Disclaimer: Don't own it, not making any money..ladeda.
Chapter 4- Hidings and Findings
Anxiously, Hermione looked out for the landmark bridge. She kept her eyes downcast as she passed the strangers, who appeared to be threatening and dangerous in the shadows of the streets. She wasn't sure if she was still in muggle Burgas, a city on the coast of the Black Sea, or if she had inadvertently strayed into the wizarding area. If only her parents had let her research and explore the magical side of Bulgaria! They had gone out for drinks downtown with some friendly Americans visiting the country as well, having their fun. Well, Hermione thought defiantly, now she was having her own fun as well. Here she was, in a foreign country, on a secret rendezvous to visit her older boyfriend. It sounded like something out of a cheap romance novel. Now, if only it felt that way. It was hard to make-believe it was something that nice when she could feel blank stairs ogling her scantily clothed body. She pulled her coat around her tighter, despite the heat, and breathed a sigh of relief as she saw the bridge, brightly illuminated by many streetlights.
"Viktor?" she called out uncertainly. She peered around a dark alleyway. If she didn't find him soon, she would turn around and go back to the hotel. She didn't feel comfortable wandering around late at night with no purpose. "Viktor!" she tried again.
Suddenly, a rough pair of hands grabbed her around her waist. Too startled to even scream, Hermione struggled against the hands. But they only wrapped tighter around her middle with every wrench she made to get away.
"Hermione," said a rough whisper. "Calm down!" said the voice more frantically.
"Viktor!" said Hermione loudly, furious. "What in the world were you thinking?" she yelled.
Quickly, Viktor clapped his hand around her mouth. Hermione's eyes widened and she attempted to scream, but his grip was firm. Picking her up with his other arm as if she weighed no more than a small child. He walked three steps and then sat her down gently on a bench. "Hermione," he whispered, still not taking his large hand off her mouth, "I need you to rust me for a second, please." But her brown eyes were still wild, and Viktor could tell that if he let her go, she would scream. "Please, Hermione," he pleaded. "I didn't mean to hurt you…but we need to be quiet and I have to talk to you." Slowly, she nodded. Viktor had a tight-lipped smile, and slowly he let his hand off her face. "I'm sorry," he apologized. But Hermione was silent and refused to look him in the face.
"I need to tell you something…and it's going to come as a shock."
Slowly, Hermione lifted her head and looked him in the eye. "You're forgiven…I-" she stumbled, looking for the right words, "I just didn't know what you were thinking, or who you were. You scared me half to death, Viktor."
He smiled sadly. "I know, Hermy-own," he said, using his nickname for her. "I just didn't know vhat else to do!" he cried, anguished. Immediately, he looked around, seeing if anyone had heard his outburst.
Concerned, Hermione asked, "What is it?"
Viktor grabbed her hand and led her around a corner to deserted street. "They've come after me, Hermione. They vant me to join them!"
"They?" she repeated, confused.
"The Deatheaters. They vant me."
**********
Ron struggled as he climbed up the old tree in their backyard. From their living room window, he was pretty sure he could see red mixing in with the green of the leaves on the tree, and he was pretty sure that that meant Ginny was perched up their somewhere. His hands gripped the tough bark tightly, but his palms were sweaty and one slipped off of the tree. Wildly, he grabbed for a handhold, but the best he could come up with was a tiny twig. He balanced precariously on a small branch holding him up, and he was grabbing the twig tightly. His left leg was wrapped around the trunk of the tree in an awkward attempt to not fall to the ground.
But soon enough, the skinny branch broke and sent him sliding down the tree, his leg rubbing raw on the trunk. "Who is that?" Ginny called out below her, into the masses of leaves. She heard Ron's groan of pain, and immediately identified him. "Oh, Ron," she complained, and extended a slender, tanned arm to help him get up.
'Thanks," Ron said. He sat on a think, gnarled branch next to her and began to wipe leaves and sticks off his clothes and out of his hair. "How in the world do you get up here?" he asked good-naturedly.
Ginny just scowled. "It's easy, when you're small. But with your long legs and monstrous arms, I'm not surprised you had some trouble."
Ron grinned back at his sister. "Hey!" he said. "I didn't come up here just to be insulted by my baby sister."
Obviously, Ginny was in no mood for joking. She just turned to Ron and asked pertinently, "Well then, why did you come up here?"
For a moment, Ron was at a loss for words. He tried to think of a good lie, but stopped short of saying it when he realized Ginny would be able to see right through it. "I- I came to check up on you," he admitted.
"Who sent you?" Ginny questioned, sounding more bored than angry. Her brothers had been "checking up" ever since school had ended, and, frankly, it had become a tad annoying.
"No one." When Ginny gave him a long, hard, stare, reminiscent to their mother's, Ron repeated it again. "Honestly," he confirmed. "I just came to see you myself." He gulped hard. "I'm worried about you, Gin. You haven't been talking a mile a minute lately, and no one knows what's wrong with you." He tried again to make her laugh with his incessant teasing.
It hadn't worked. "I'm just tired, that's all," she said listlessly, inadvertently picking a lone bright green leaf off the tree.
Ron sighed, apparently frustrated. "There's more to it than that, Gin," he said. "Your excuses may work for everyone else, but not for me. I'm Ron, your closest brother, and I know you."
"Not anymore," she whispered quietly, immediately regretting it afterwards. She kept her head down, not wanting to look at Ron, as if avoiding his stare would make her words disappear.
"What do you mean?" he asked, puzzled. "We've always been the closest. Don't tell me suddenly Percy's stepped in and took my place!"
She finally met his piercing stare. "No one's taken it Ron, it's just simply…disappeared." She could tell by his expression he was hurt. "It's no one's fault, Ron," she explained. "It was natural, I suppose. You went off to school and found new friends. I should have as well."
"You didn't have a chance to," Ron said quietly. "Because of Rid- Volde-…You-Know-Who," Ron fished around, trying to figure out what to call him. "I should have been there for you."
"No use crying over split milk," Ginny said, using one of her Mother's old adages. Ron didn't know how to respond to that. So he just sat uncomfortably on the branch and watched Ginny try to look everywhere but at him. Ron, however, studied her. Her eyelashes were long, and a very deep brown that matched her dark brown eyes. But they also looked odd on her skin, which was tan from being outside so much but didn't have a healthy glow. Instead, underneath she looked pale. Her straight hair was dark, but lacked luster or shine. It hung limp, falling just past her shoulder blade that he could see prominently through her thin summer shirt. Ron had to admit it to himself- she just didn't look well. Mum's homemade pepper-up potions didn't even seem to be working, and none of the Weasley's had ever known those to fail.
"No use trying to avoid it, Ginny," Ron said suddenly, shattering the quietness of the backyard.
"What?" asked Ginny, confused. What was Ron talking about?
"I'm going to figure it out, and I'd much rather you tell me as opposed to me being a snoop and sneaking about," stated Ron.
"Ron Weasley, what on Earth are you talking about?"
"You. Virginia Marie Weasley, please just tell me what's wrong!" Ron cried, thoroughly exasperated at his sisters obstinacy.
Ginny looked at Ron for a long time, but his expression of worry never changed. Finally, she broke down and told him. "It's only been since the end of school, you know." But Ron didn't say anything, in fear that interrupting might make her stop talking. "That's when they started." But Ron couldn't curb his curiosity any longer, and his impatience got the better of him.
"What started Gin?" he asked. She was quiet for a while, and he was afraid that she had decided not to tell him. But then she said-
"The dreams. Those horrible nightmares. And in each of them, there's the same…same thing!" She took a deep breath, and looked paler than usual. Her white skin contrasted greatly to her dark red hair, that was slowly intermingling with brown strands and looking less and less like the trademark Weasley orange each day.
"What thing is in them?" Ron said, leaning in closer. "Is it really bad, Gin?"
She nodded slowly. "It's Voldemort."
Ron, responding with pure shock, tipped over, and promptly fell right out the three story high tree, descending to the ground at an alarming rate. Ginny screamed wildly and Mrs. Weasley, baking pies in the kitchen was startled when the glass pie holder shattered in her hands. She looked at the runny mess that was left in her hands and the shards of sharp glass the suddenly were lying around her feet. Then she grabbed her wand off a shelf in the kitchen and ran outside, through the back paddock door. She had a clear view of her youngest son plummeting rapidly towards the ground.
TBC……..
A/N: Lots of cliffies today, aren't there. It has been a while since I've last updated, but I haven't had any real urge to write. But I wanted to get a chapter up before next year!
Xavien: Of course it's a small world! That's the way it has to be, for the plot of my story to continue! :) No…I don't think the boyfriend's spotted the toenails yet…How was the Hermione scene?
Tezka: Thank you for the compliments! More cliffhangers in this chapter.
Thank you too Lei Dumbledore, amaya, hp-crazed, and everyone else who read! (And also reviewed…hint hint, nudge nudge.)