A/N: I'm revising this story. I read it the other day and realized just how corny it was. I'm hoping to eliminate some of that. This is sorta a song fic…later there is a bit from the song "El Tango de Roxanne" from Moulin Rouge. This story was thought up from that scene. You don't need to have seen MR to understand the story. Please R/R, and I'm sorry if it's still uber-corny!
For the past year, things between Ron and Hermione had been strange. She was still seeing Krum though, she never did go to Bulgaria last summer. (Which made Ron ecstatic.) He didn't really know why, even. Well, perhaps he knew, deep down. But he refused to admit it. ('There's no way that I fancy Hermione!') Hermione knew it though. It was painfully obvious to her. She'd known that she liked Ron since her third year. She was so hopeful forth year when he was so angry with Viktor. ('Please let him be jealous!') But he never did anything. Other than screaming that he would not allow her to go to Bulgaria.
"Well, Ron, you're a little late, my father has already told me all this!" she had screamed angrily at him. Which was true. When she told her parents about Viktor they'd been happy, but as soon as she had mentioned "18-years-old" and "invited me to Bulgaria for the summer" her father nearly had a coronary. (Seven broken dishes, 27 cups of tea, and three sore throats later, Hermione was starting to think her parents might not want her to go…)
So, that summer before fifth year, Hermione had gone to the Burrow, like usual and just wrote to Viktor. Which pleased her, because it also made Ron happy.
She honestly had no romantic feelings for Viktor. He was sweet, and her certainly liked her a lot, but he was just a friend. A good pen pal. She just pretended to date him in hopes on making Ron jealous, and reviling his un-dying love to her. So far, no good. (She was also starting to feel thoroughly horrid about treating Viktor as she was.)
In his last letter, Viktor asked her to come to Bulgaria again. Even if it was just for a day or two. She meekly confronted her parents.
"Ahem…" she cleared her throat to get their attention. "Urm…Hullo," she said smiling. "I just got a letter from Victor," Mr. Granger tensed, "and he asked me to come visit him again…In Bulgaria." Now Mr. Granger was stiff as a board and a light shade of purple. "Not for the whole summer!" Hermione said quickly. "Just for an afternoon or two. Please?"
"Hermione, he's nineteen, and you'd be in another country, and all boys only think of one—"
"Daddy! I can take care of myself! Viktor would never do anything like that! Don't you trust me?" She played the Trust Card, and threw in the puppy-dog-eyes for good measure. It seemed to be working. At least her father wasn't breaking anything.
Mr. Granger took five deep breaths before saying anything. Of course, the first thing he said was not "Of course you can go to a foreign country with a more-than-likely-horny boy who's four years older than you Hermione!" It was "What do you think, Alison?" directed towards Mrs. Granger.
Uh-oh.
Hermione could only use the "I'm-your-sweet-little-girl-you-can-trust-me-let-me-do-what-I-want" faces on her father. Her mother saw right threw them. (Perhaps because it was her mother who taught Hermione how to use those faces?) Hermione could only hold her breath and wait.
Mrs. Granger was quiet for a moment. Then said, "I suppose…No more than two days, though! How about Sunday through Tuesday?"
Hermione was about to agree, when, "Oh wait! I already told Ron I'd be at the Burrow by Saturday!"
"Well, perhaps it would be better that way," Hermione's mother said. She added in a low whisper, "That way your father won't go to jail." When Hermione looked confused, her mother smiled. "If Viktor were to show up at our door, your father would probably murder him."
Hermione smiled and thanked her parents profusely. She waited until she got back to her room let out a loud "whoop!"
Not that she was particularly looking forward to spending two days alone with Viktor Krum. The man still couldn't pronounce her name. All she wanted was another chance to make Ron realize that he liked her. First she scrawled a quick note to Viktor saying she couldn't say much, but her parents had said 'yes.' She gave him directions to the Burrow, and told him to get her there on Sunday. Then she wrote a letter to Ron:
Dear Ron,
Viktor invited me to stay in Bulgaria for a while, and my parents agreed this year! I guess a year has made them see…
But, the only time we could arrange it would be the day after I arrive at your place. I hope it won't be a problem. I'm sure he'd just apperate over, and we'd go back with a Portkey. I'd only be gone for two days or so; you'd hardly even notice I'm gone!
I'm sorry this letter couldn't be longer, but I have to get packed! I should be Floo-ing over to your house tomorrow afternoon sometime. Bye!
With love,
Hermione
~*~
Ron had a fit when he read the letter. After he shouted for ten minutes, he put a hole in his wall with his foot. (Which did not make Mrs. Weasley happy, to put it simply.)
How could she do this?! How could her parents let her?! Ron spent the whole day sulking in his room. (Hermione was never to find this out.)
(Of course Harry, who had been at the Burrow since the third day of summer break, found this all entirely amusing. Ron was so in love with Hermione, but he wouldn't know it if (to quote Ron) it danced naked in front of him wearing Dobby's tea cozy.)
Hermione arrived the next day. Ron was very aloof. He was not unpleasant, but not overly friendly either. Hermione unpacked her things in Ginny's room, leaving three days worth of things (even though she really only needed two, she was trying to work up Ron) packed to go to Bulgaria in the morning.
The day passed quietly enough. The twins had moved out, and were living in Hogsmead in a building near the joke shop they were starting. So it was only Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in the house.
Ginny was shamelessly and openly flirting with Harry (in the past year several boys had started paying unusual amounts of attention to her and it had raised her confidence so high that she could talk—and flirt, obviously—with Harry without resembling a tomato. Harry seemed to have no objections.) Mrs. Weasley was knitting (judging by the maroon thread, and the way she kept sizing up Ron, it was his new Christmas sweater.) And Mr. Weasley was playing chess with Ron.
Hermione was sitting on the couch with her book upside-down, day-dreaming. Presumably about Viktor and Bulgaria, but really about Ron. She wondered if she should just come out and tell him that she was madly in love with him, or just snog him into the wall, and just hope for the best. (She was particularly enjoying the snog fantasy.)
That night she asked Ginny, "How do you tell a guy that you like him?"
"Um…Hermione? If you've been dating Viktor for a year, I think he's figured that out for himself. Surly he's not as dim as Ron always mutters that he is."
Hermione smiled. "Well, this is more of a hypothetical question," she said.
Ginny sighed. "Well, there's always the bold thing. Just walk up to him and say, "Hey, I fancy you." Or…you could take the subtle approach and just flirt with him. Touch his arm, and smile while you talk. Crack jokes. I would advise not flirting like Parvati or Lavender…They tend to give guys the wrong idea." Both girls giggled, remember how the year before Seamus Finnigan had nearly choked Lavender with his tongue when she "flirted" with him. "Why are you asking?" Ginny said.
"Oh…I dunno," Hermione said quickly. "Well, I'm tried. And who knows when Viktor will be here tomorrow. Good night."
~*~
It was five in the evening and Viktor wasn't there yet.
"Maybe he's not coming!" Ron said. Despite how much it pleased Hermione to hear him sound so happy; she sent him a dirty look.
'She's so beautiful,' Ron thought, then mentally smacked himself for thinking. 'Where did that come from??' But it was true. She was wearing a black dress that was a little to short for outings, if you asked Ron. She had put something in her hair that made it sleek, but still let her keep her beautiful curls. She was also wearing make-up, which shocked Ron to see. Hermione never wore that stuff! She was also wearing perfume. Ron had an almost unbearable urge to walk up to her and breathe in the wonderful sent. But he had no idea why…
At that precise moment, there was a loud knock on the front door of the Burrow.
Hermione dashed over to answer it, and in all his duck-footed glory, was Viktor bloody Krum.
His eyes upon your face…
Viktor smiled widely when he saw Hermione.
His hand upon your hand…
He reached for her hand, which she had presented to him…
His lips caress your skin…
…And kissed her fingers.
It's more than I can stand!
Ron stood up so fast he knocked over the chair he was sitting in, and ran up the stairs two at a time. He planned on putting another hole in his wall…
Why does my heart cry? Feelings I can't fight…
'What am I doing?!' Ron asked himself. 'Why do I feel so…hurt?'
You're free to leave me, but just don't deceive me…
He looked out his window. Hermione was holding Krum's hand, and he was holding what looked like an old pair of earmuffs—the Portkey to Bulgaria.
And please, believe when I say I love you!
'I love her…' Ron thought. Then he punched a hole in his wall.
~*~
It hurt Hermione to see Ron so upset. It also made her feel good—which in turn made her feel guilty. She knew he was jealous. But did he? Maybe when she got back she would just tell him, and he'd realize he felt the same way.
It felt so wrong to hold Viktor's hand. But she did so anyway, and waited for the Portkey to take them to Bulgaria. She held her breath when she felt the tug behind her navel…
When the world stopped churning, Hermione was trying to steady herself in a great marble foyer. Three or four house elves scurried up to her: to take her coat, to offer her tea, or something to eat. They did the same to Viktor. When they both had gotten what they wanted (well, Hermione, still working for the rights of house elves, didn't get anything) they all scurried away, except for one. She followed closely behind Viktor as he showed Hermione around his house. She was in awe at the sheer size, and the furnishings just added to it all. She had already seen four indoor fountains, and they were only half way threw the first floor.
On the third floor (and eighteen fountains later) Viktor showed her his room. There was a dinner table set for two inside. "Oh, it's beautiful, Viktor!" Hermione said.
"Please, sit down," he muttered, pulling out a chair. He then sat opposite of her. (The house elf that had been following them stood in the corner waiting until she was needed.)
As dinner progressed on, Viktor said more and more things that made Hermione feel guilty. She was leading the poor man on! He was talking about the future, and she was using him to make Ron jealous! She was wallowing in guilt, and had stopped listening to what Viktor was saying. He was saying something to the effect of "when we live here together…" when she had to stop him.
"I'm sorry Viktor, I can't do this."
"Vat to you mean?"
"Viktor…I don't have and romantic feelings for you. You're a wonderful person, and I enjoy your company, but—"
"Vat?" Viktor interrupted. "You haff been lying to me?
Hermione nodded slowly. "Yes…"
Viktor stood up and violently shoved the table out of the way, toppling it over and scaring Hermione to death. He growled and stood over her. "No!" he shouted.
"Viktor, please, I—"
"Why?" he shouted.
"Victor—"
He cut her off again. "Is there somvon else?" he demanded angrily. Hermione wouldn't meet his eye. "Who? Who is if that you loff?" (Loff being his pronunciation of 'love') "If not me, then who? Potter??"
"No…" Hermione tried to stand, but Viktor grabbed her shoulders roughly and held her.
"Veasley??" He shook her. "NO!" He shoved her away and she tripped and landed on the bed. Viktor stood over her again. She tried to slap him, but he grabbed both her wrists. "You…made me beliffe that you…loffed me!"
"No…" Hermione whimpered. "Viktor, you're hurting me!"
"No!" he shouted, "I vill not let you go!" He tried to kiss her. She rolled over and he missed. But unfortunately, this gave him access to the zipper of her dress. He had the zipper down, and ripped the straps off her shoulders to expose her bare breasts. Hermione squirmed and screamed. Viktor tried to kiss her again. Hermione tried to twist to get out of his grasp, and he ended up biting her shoulder. Hermione shrieked. "No! No! Get off! Stop! HELP ME! SOMEBODY! HELP! NO!" She felt Viktor push his hand up her dress. Hermione screamed louder for help. "HELP ME! ANYONE!"
Hermione heard a loud CRACK! And a few seconds later a louder SMASH! CRASH! Viktor wasn't on top of her anymore. She opened her eyes, tears streaming down her face, to see Viktor unconscious and lying on a broken table. The very table he had thrown not ten minutes ago.
"Are you alright, miss?" a small voice squeaked. Hermione looked down. At the foot of the bed stood the house elf. Immediately Hermione tried to cover herself. (To no use. Her zipper was broken, and her straps were ripped.) The house elf walked around the bed to hold out a long fingered hand out to Hermione. "You will be alright, miss," she said with a toothy grin. Hermione nodded, and took the house elf's hand, who led her to one of the many fire places. On the mantle above it, was a bowl of Floo-powder. "Finnee will take Miss to where she is safe."
~*~
"Ron?" Harry called threw his friend's bedroom door. He'd ran up there so suddenly, and then Harry had heard a loud noise and a yelp of pain.
"Come on in, mate…"
Harry walked in. Ron was sitting by his window, rubbing the knuckles of his right hand. There was another hole in the wall.
"Did you know?" Ron asked after a few minutes.
"Know what?" asked Harry curiously.
"That I was practically in love with Hermione."
Harry smiled weakly. "Yeah, I knew. Hate to break it to you, mate, but it was painfully obvious."
"Why?" Ron asked after a moment.
"Why what?"
"Why her? Why does she have to like him? Why didn't I realize sooner and get her before that git did?"
Harry was quiet for a minute. "…I dunno…"
After a few minutes of silence Ron burst out, "I hate him!"
"Ron, come downstairs. Get something to drink. Calm down. You can talk to Hermione about this when she gets back. If you keep looking out that window waiting for her all weekend, you're going to drive yourself mad."
Ron looked at Harry. "Yeah, okay," he said after a moment, and trudged downstairs to the kitchen.
Ron had just started his fourth biscuit, and second glass of pumpkin juice when two bodies came tumbling out of the fireplace. A tiny something with big ears, and tented slightly green, and a beautiful, brown haired, sobbing something that flung herself onto Ron the moment she saw him.
"Oh, Ron!" Hermione cried into his chest. "Ron! You were right! You were right and I'm sorry! I'm sorry for everything! Krum was an idiot! You were right! And I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!" she said in a rush, muffled slightly by his shirt.
Ron stared wide eyed at the girl in his lap."What? Wait a minute, Hermione, what's going on?" Ron only now just registered that Hermione dress was falling off slowly, but surly, and felt his cheeks heat up.
The house elf cleared her throat.
"Master Krum…He…tired to…urm…take advantage of Miss. He was very angry that Miss said she did not love him, sirs," she told Ron and Harry. Hermione cried harder, and Ron's blood boiled.
"I'll kill him!" he said. "I'll kill him! Bloody bastard! How dare he! Oh, god, Hermione, are you okay?? Did he hurt you? I swear to you, I'll kill him if he hurt you."
Hermione's only reply was to sob harder. Ron pulled her into his lap and caressed her hair, and rocked her gently. "Shhh…" he said. "It's okay now, you're safe. Shh…please don't cry. Oh, Hermione, I hate seeing you like this…I'll kill him for this, honestly I will. Shhhhhhh…" (While Ron was otherwise preoccupied, Harry slipped out of the room. He was just as angry as Ron was, but he wanted to give the two of them some time alone.)
"Oh, Ron, I'm so sorry…" Hermione said again.
"Why?? What on earth do you have to be sorry about? It's that son-of-a-bitch who should be apologizing!"
"I'm sorry for fighting with you about it. You were right: he was a git. A bloody, damn dirty git. And I yelled at you for that. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry for ever fighting about anything." She looked up at him now. "I hate fighting with you."
"And I hate fighting with you," Ron said, wiping away a tear that fell down her cheek. "And I hate seeing you cry."
Hermione laid her head back down on Ron's shoulder. He continued to rock her, and to murmur things about how he would kill Krum, and if she was okay. Hermione continued to cry. "Oh, Hermione…Please don't cry. I hate seeing you like this…" he kissed the top of her head (though he had no idea where he got the courage to do so). "This is going to sound corny, but my mom always used to say this: No man is worth your tears…And the one who is won't make you cry."
Hermione lifted her head, and brown eyes connected with brown eyes. "That's beautiful, Ron…" she breathed. Ron wiped away another stray tear.
Ron gulped and said hoarsely, "I'll never make you cry, Hermione…"
Hermione nodded slowly. "I know…" She bit her lip and said, "Ron, I love you."
At the exact same moment Ron said, "I love you, Hermione." Then his brain processed what he had just heard. "What?"
"That's why this happened. I never liked Krum. Not like that. I was trying…I was trying to make you jealous. And then I started to feel bad…I wanted to tell you so badly…When I told Krum that I had feelings for someone else he…He went mad. And…"
Before she could say any more, she was silenced with a kiss. A sweet, soft kiss full of love. She kissed him back before she realized what was happening. His tongue brushed her bottom lip, requesting entrance, which she provided willingly. She wasn't sure how long they sat there kissing, but it seemed like an eternity of bliss. They finally pulled away for air.
"It worked," Ron finally said.
"What did?"
"You made me jealous. I didn't even realize until you left with him tonight how much I loved you…But I have loved you…For so long, I have loved you with every fiber of my being…I just didn't know it. And I will love you until the end of time," he whispered.
Hermione leaned in to kiss him again. This time they were startled apart by someone clearing their throat.
They had forgotten Krum's house elf.
"Finnee will just be going then, shall she?" she said with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Finee will bring back the things you left, miss." And with a small pop! she was gone.
Hermione giggled, and Ron out-right laughed. He kissed her hair. "I love you," he muttered.
"I love you, too," Hermione said. They kissed again.
And to ruin a perfectly good moment, Ron blushed when they broke apart and said, "Urm…Hermione…your woman-chest is exposed…"
Fin.
A/N: Okay…So…Well…Indeed. As you can see, I'm not that great of a writer and couldn't take the corny-ness out from the ending. I hope I did better in other places. o.O;; Oh, by the by, there at the end, there are a few other Moulin Rouge references…If you can spot them, brownies to you! :-) (And don't just ask for brownies in your reviews…if you even finished reading it so you could review…tell me the references!)