Hermione lay on her stomach in the humongous room that was the guest room
in Krum's castle like home. She had been there for the most part of the
first month of summer vacation. She had left her home half heartedly. She
had spent most of the year at school, and spent her Christmas at Hogwarts,
just as she had done in previous years, but now Hermione missed her parents
a great deal.
Of course Harry was on her mind, how wouldn't he be? He had just witnessed a friend get murdered, Voldemort come into power right in front of him, and he still has to live with the Dursley's. From her "little" area she had sent Harry a couple of letters, but was met with the same security measures that Ron had encountered before. Though this time she was sent a letter from who she assumed was Harry's cousin, saying that he, "Harry", was totally pissed off with Hermione. Being the genius that she is, she ignored it and just stopped sending letters.
Ron? Hermione received no letter from Ron, she had received one from Harry, telling her to not send another letter, but at least he sent one. She had convinced herself not to send him a letter, not until he sent her one first. Though in her subconscious she knew that he was waiting for her to send him a letter before he would even think of picking up his own quill.
An owl glided through the window of Hermione's room. The owl was gray and young looking, not an owl that she recognized. It hooted to a stop in mid air, right in front of Hermione with its right foot sticking out to show the letter to her. Deftly, Hermione took the letter and stayed to watch the owl leave before she sat down on her bed to read the letter.
Dear Hermione,
How are you doing? We're fine, we're here at Charlie's for the rest of summer vacation. What are you up to? Well, I just wanted to say that Ron is at your house. Anyway have a nice summer Hermione.
Your superior, Fred Weasley.
To say that Hermione was shocked would be an understatement. Most of all she was embarrassed beyond belief of what Ron might be doing in her home. Her parents were very trusting, not that she didn't trust Ron, but the temptation he must feel of seeing his muggle friend's room must be overwhelming. Not that she had anything to hide in her room, she took all of her clothes (the ones that fit her), and hid her most personal belongings in a fireproof safe, which Ron would not magic open since it's against the law. But just the thought of Ron in her room made her - made her - well she didn't know how she felt, but it would be best if he didn't enter her room.
"Miss Granger dinner is ready," called her hand maiden from the door. Since the inception of her stay in Krum's home she was given a handmaiden for the duration of her stay. Since day one Hermione treated her handmaiden, Kelly, with the utmost respect and friendship. In turn Kelly treated her the same way confiding in Hermione that "I really was intent on hating you, but I just can't seem to do so. It's all your fault."
"I'll be along in a minute Kelly," answered Hermione suspiciously quickly. She stuffed the letter into her jean jacket. She had on her jean jacket over her yellow Hurley tee-shirt, faded jeans and her blue and yellow Osiris shoes.
Hermione walked over to the door, sparing another look in the direction from which the letter came. Ron was at her house and she was in Bulgaria. Nothing she could do but enjoy her stay here and return home to deal with Ron later.
"Herm-own-ninny," asked Krum, "how is your dinner?" Krum looked across the table, the very long table, to Hermione who sat alone, excluding the butlers/waiters, and maids/waitresses. Krum, across the table, was surrounded by a similar looking group, though looked a little more surly than Hermione's side. Maybe it was because Hermione didn't down her drink in one gulp, and kept spilling things on herself, making them get her a new drink and clean her up at the same time. Whatever it was Krum didn't notice.
"It's fine Viktor," Hermione half-yelled across the table. Hermione surmised that this table was meant for much more than just two diners, it was probably meant to sit Krum's father's colleagues and benefactors, and maybe even the Bulgarian Quidditch team too.
"Alfred," whispered Krum to his waiter friend, "go over there and make sure everything is okay. I vant everything to be perfect." Alfred only nodded in compliance before he left on his journey across the never ending table.
"Miss Granger," asked Alfred, in amazingly excellent English, "is there anything you want? All you need is ask? Anything at all." Alfred leaned over in an non-menacing way, but it left Hermione feeling awkward in such scrutiny.
"No... Mr....," Hermione said trailing off for Alfred to finish.
"Just Alfred Miss. Alfred," he said smiling. In a whisper he added "Master Krum is very fond of you. I've never seen him ask me to speak to any of his lady friends before. He is nervous that you are not enjoying yourself, if you were to ask for something he would be most pleased. Say a goblet of milk and cookies or something else if you wish."
Hermione was in shock that Krum had his - his butler say those words to her instead of himself, but none the less was very flattered and her face managed to flush slightly at the compliment. Hermione sat muttering to herself about "how very quickly everything is happening" and how she "doesn't know how she feels about him" before Alfred cleared his throat cryptically.
"Oh, yes," Hermione said as she snapped out of her little trance, "milk and cookies will be fine." Though how he thought she could eat lobster with a side of milk and cookies was preposterous, but she didn't speak otherwise.
Alfred quickly ran to the kitchen, giving Krum a wink as he walked past him. Krum busied himself with opening his lobster. Normally he would have asked one of his servants to open it for him, but now, in front of Hermione, he wanted to show her that he was capable of doing anything, even something trivial as opening his lobster. Hermione watched him with somewhat interest; for someone who is very fond of her, he did very little to acknowledge her presence and make her feel as though she were welcome.
Almost as quickly as he ran into the kitchen, so he did on the way out. In his up stretched arm held a tray which had upon it a bag of chocolate chip cookies and a tall clear goblet of milk. His steady stride ensured that the tray would not fall, but that was not what fate had in mind.
"AHH - !" cried Alfred, he went tumbling head first into Hermione with the goblet of milk spilling on her clothes, and the cookies getting in her hair. Though thoroughly drenched in milk, Hermione stayed calm and gave her hand out to help the fallen butler up onto his feet.
"YOU'RE FIRED!" heard Hermione from across the room. It seems that Krum was very displeased with Alfred over his recent bout of clumsiness. Krum came running from across the room toward Hermione and Alfred. With Krum's arms reached out in that manner Hermione immediately thought he came over to inspect her for injuries, but instead picked up Alfred and tossed him out of the manor.
"You may get your things tomorrow morning, that is if I don't decide to toss them into this evening's fire!"
Hermione sat in her chair leaning over to get a last glimpse of Alfred, whose eyes were wide open in shock that he had tripped. He had never tripped before, even when he was just starting out. Slowly the door was closed on the once faithful butler, now a was-faithful unemployed person who shall forever be known as the perfect butler that lost his footing.
"You didn't have to fire him," Hermione said in a whisper. "I'm fine, just a little wet."
"The reason I wanted everything perfect for tonight was because I am dumping you, Hermione. I am sorry," said Krum sincerely looking remorseful.
There Hermione sat, her eyes growing damp, her mouth growing dry, and her heart stopped and dropped into her stomach, being eaten away by the acids.
Her first major relationship, and her first major rejection; fate had dealt Hermione a bad hand and with that hand all ready played, will she go for broke with Krum, or take the long shot, hot shot, that she left back home, her home?
Of course Harry was on her mind, how wouldn't he be? He had just witnessed a friend get murdered, Voldemort come into power right in front of him, and he still has to live with the Dursley's. From her "little" area she had sent Harry a couple of letters, but was met with the same security measures that Ron had encountered before. Though this time she was sent a letter from who she assumed was Harry's cousin, saying that he, "Harry", was totally pissed off with Hermione. Being the genius that she is, she ignored it and just stopped sending letters.
Ron? Hermione received no letter from Ron, she had received one from Harry, telling her to not send another letter, but at least he sent one. She had convinced herself not to send him a letter, not until he sent her one first. Though in her subconscious she knew that he was waiting for her to send him a letter before he would even think of picking up his own quill.
An owl glided through the window of Hermione's room. The owl was gray and young looking, not an owl that she recognized. It hooted to a stop in mid air, right in front of Hermione with its right foot sticking out to show the letter to her. Deftly, Hermione took the letter and stayed to watch the owl leave before she sat down on her bed to read the letter.
Dear Hermione,
How are you doing? We're fine, we're here at Charlie's for the rest of summer vacation. What are you up to? Well, I just wanted to say that Ron is at your house. Anyway have a nice summer Hermione.
Your superior, Fred Weasley.
To say that Hermione was shocked would be an understatement. Most of all she was embarrassed beyond belief of what Ron might be doing in her home. Her parents were very trusting, not that she didn't trust Ron, but the temptation he must feel of seeing his muggle friend's room must be overwhelming. Not that she had anything to hide in her room, she took all of her clothes (the ones that fit her), and hid her most personal belongings in a fireproof safe, which Ron would not magic open since it's against the law. But just the thought of Ron in her room made her - made her - well she didn't know how she felt, but it would be best if he didn't enter her room.
"Miss Granger dinner is ready," called her hand maiden from the door. Since the inception of her stay in Krum's home she was given a handmaiden for the duration of her stay. Since day one Hermione treated her handmaiden, Kelly, with the utmost respect and friendship. In turn Kelly treated her the same way confiding in Hermione that "I really was intent on hating you, but I just can't seem to do so. It's all your fault."
"I'll be along in a minute Kelly," answered Hermione suspiciously quickly. She stuffed the letter into her jean jacket. She had on her jean jacket over her yellow Hurley tee-shirt, faded jeans and her blue and yellow Osiris shoes.
Hermione walked over to the door, sparing another look in the direction from which the letter came. Ron was at her house and she was in Bulgaria. Nothing she could do but enjoy her stay here and return home to deal with Ron later.
"Herm-own-ninny," asked Krum, "how is your dinner?" Krum looked across the table, the very long table, to Hermione who sat alone, excluding the butlers/waiters, and maids/waitresses. Krum, across the table, was surrounded by a similar looking group, though looked a little more surly than Hermione's side. Maybe it was because Hermione didn't down her drink in one gulp, and kept spilling things on herself, making them get her a new drink and clean her up at the same time. Whatever it was Krum didn't notice.
"It's fine Viktor," Hermione half-yelled across the table. Hermione surmised that this table was meant for much more than just two diners, it was probably meant to sit Krum's father's colleagues and benefactors, and maybe even the Bulgarian Quidditch team too.
"Alfred," whispered Krum to his waiter friend, "go over there and make sure everything is okay. I vant everything to be perfect." Alfred only nodded in compliance before he left on his journey across the never ending table.
"Miss Granger," asked Alfred, in amazingly excellent English, "is there anything you want? All you need is ask? Anything at all." Alfred leaned over in an non-menacing way, but it left Hermione feeling awkward in such scrutiny.
"No... Mr....," Hermione said trailing off for Alfred to finish.
"Just Alfred Miss. Alfred," he said smiling. In a whisper he added "Master Krum is very fond of you. I've never seen him ask me to speak to any of his lady friends before. He is nervous that you are not enjoying yourself, if you were to ask for something he would be most pleased. Say a goblet of milk and cookies or something else if you wish."
Hermione was in shock that Krum had his - his butler say those words to her instead of himself, but none the less was very flattered and her face managed to flush slightly at the compliment. Hermione sat muttering to herself about "how very quickly everything is happening" and how she "doesn't know how she feels about him" before Alfred cleared his throat cryptically.
"Oh, yes," Hermione said as she snapped out of her little trance, "milk and cookies will be fine." Though how he thought she could eat lobster with a side of milk and cookies was preposterous, but she didn't speak otherwise.
Alfred quickly ran to the kitchen, giving Krum a wink as he walked past him. Krum busied himself with opening his lobster. Normally he would have asked one of his servants to open it for him, but now, in front of Hermione, he wanted to show her that he was capable of doing anything, even something trivial as opening his lobster. Hermione watched him with somewhat interest; for someone who is very fond of her, he did very little to acknowledge her presence and make her feel as though she were welcome.
Almost as quickly as he ran into the kitchen, so he did on the way out. In his up stretched arm held a tray which had upon it a bag of chocolate chip cookies and a tall clear goblet of milk. His steady stride ensured that the tray would not fall, but that was not what fate had in mind.
"AHH - !" cried Alfred, he went tumbling head first into Hermione with the goblet of milk spilling on her clothes, and the cookies getting in her hair. Though thoroughly drenched in milk, Hermione stayed calm and gave her hand out to help the fallen butler up onto his feet.
"YOU'RE FIRED!" heard Hermione from across the room. It seems that Krum was very displeased with Alfred over his recent bout of clumsiness. Krum came running from across the room toward Hermione and Alfred. With Krum's arms reached out in that manner Hermione immediately thought he came over to inspect her for injuries, but instead picked up Alfred and tossed him out of the manor.
"You may get your things tomorrow morning, that is if I don't decide to toss them into this evening's fire!"
Hermione sat in her chair leaning over to get a last glimpse of Alfred, whose eyes were wide open in shock that he had tripped. He had never tripped before, even when he was just starting out. Slowly the door was closed on the once faithful butler, now a was-faithful unemployed person who shall forever be known as the perfect butler that lost his footing.
"You didn't have to fire him," Hermione said in a whisper. "I'm fine, just a little wet."
"The reason I wanted everything perfect for tonight was because I am dumping you, Hermione. I am sorry," said Krum sincerely looking remorseful.
There Hermione sat, her eyes growing damp, her mouth growing dry, and her heart stopped and dropped into her stomach, being eaten away by the acids.
Her first major relationship, and her first major rejection; fate had dealt Hermione a bad hand and with that hand all ready played, will she go for broke with Krum, or take the long shot, hot shot, that she left back home, her home?