To Bulgaria and Back: Chapter One
By: Susan
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything.
Summary: Set the summer before sixth year. Hermione is invited to visit Viktor Krum. However, her parents don't want her traveling alone to meet someone they don't know, so, they convince her to take Ron along.
xxx
Night had fallen on Privet Drive. The sky was a dusty piece of black velvet, with pinpricks of light from distant stars that seemed to pin it up in every corner, as far as Harry Potter could see.
The air was sticky and voluminous. It seemed to cover every inch of the room and
surround Harry to the point where he wanted to be sick. He had been lucky; he'd found a tiny fan in
the back of a drawer and he'd shifted it to high power. The breeze that drifted from it was certainly
better than nothing, even though it was incredibly small.
Harry crawled onto his bed, and began rereading Quidditch through the Ages, desperately trying to keep his mind from wandering back through the door in the Department of Mysteries…
It was midway through July; Harry had received letters from almost everyone he knew; Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, letters from whom were common during the summer, and even a few from his old teacher, Professor Lupin, and his headmaster.
Most had sidestepped the topic of just what had happened about a month ago, except for Lupin. He seemed just as upset as Harry, but since he was older and had lost many more people he loved than Harry had, he was quite a comfort to him. Harry found him to be healing the void Sirius' death had left in him, and slowly helping him to fill it again. Lupin seemed to realize that Harry needed someone to speak to and confide in and he offered himself, knowing his best friend would've wanted it.
Harry flipped to the next page, skimming the words but not absorbing them as he would've liked. He stood up quickly and stared out the window…Something was flying straight at him, illuminated by the crescent moon.
A large barn owl glided straight into his room and perched itself happily on Harry's bedpost. He crawled across the bed and ripped at the envelope tied to the brown owl's leg that was bearing the letter.
Hermione's neat handwriting gleamed up at him from the parchment. He pushed his glasses straight up onto his nose and began to read.
Dear Harry,
I do hope you're well. The owl, by the way, is Viktor's; he sent me a letter and I immediately used his owl to write to you after it recovered from the journey with me for a few days. Viktor invited me to spend a week with him in Bulgaria, and I haven't written him back yet. I feel terribly, he's wanted me to visit since last year, but we were busy in Grimmauld Place. The problem is that my mum and dad aren't exactly happy to send me off to Bulgaria to meet someone they'd never met; especially a boy. I've told them that it's quite easy, I'd just use Floo Powder and be there in an instant, but they're not keen on having me trouncing about in the many fireplaces from England to Bulgaria.
I suppose that's why I'm writing. You see, Harry, I've told them quite a lot about school and especially about the things you, Ron, and I have faced and they said they'd let me go if I bring one of you along, because they've met you both, even if it was just for a moment or two.
Now you know why I'm writing; perhaps if I ask Dumbledore to let you come with me to visit Viktor he'll agree? I'm sure he'd love to play Quidditch with you and take you to the stadium where he plays. I haven't answered Viktor yet because I'm waiting for your response. I know you'll agree with me when I say that I don't think Ron would enjoy traveling to Bulgaria with me…I won't go into details, but I do think you remember the Yule Ball?
I hope you'll think about it as I've already written to Dumbledore. His response should be coming any day now. I put up a great defense; I don't think he'll refuse.
Love from,
Hermione
Harry lowered the letter in disbelief. He was certain that Hermione had gotten her hopes up a bit too high. As much as he would've enjoyed seeing the stadium and Quidditch pitch where Krum played, he was sure that Dumbledore would not let him leave Privet Drive unless Voldemort had lost power, which he knew would not be happening anytime soon.
He felt a pang of sympathy for Hermione; she probably wouldn't be able to travel without him, and he thought she was quite right not to want to take Ron. Why had he been thrown into this life? He was hurting everyone around him by being so connected to Lord Voldemort.
Harry glanced back at the letter. He would've loved to see the Quidditch stadium Krum played in, and a professional Quidditch practice up close. He'd need to, as he had been hoping to be made Gryffindor Quidditch Captain when he arrived back at Hogwarts.
He put down Hermione's letter and picked up Quidditch through the Ages once more. If he couldn't see Bulgaria's stadium in person, he might as well read a bit more about it.
xxx
Hermione awoke the next morning to a knocking noise on her window. She stood, yawned, and slid it open, letting the pretty brown owl inside her room. The sky behind it was a brilliant shade of blue that made her ache to be at Hogwarts, sitting on the grounds looking up at the sky. The owl landed on her desk and happily sipped some water she'd left out in a bowl.
She gently detached the letter from its leg as it drank, unfolded it, praying that the headmaster had agreed to her wishes. She was incredibly excited at the thought of leaving England and seeing Bulgaria, which Viktor had told her quite a lot about. It was summer, so it would be a bit warmer then he'd described (at least she hoped), but it would still be quite beautiful, and probably have quite a lot of interesting wizarding history.
Her face fell as soon as she put her eyes on the parchment. It would be too much of a gamble…Harry needs to be under the protection of his aunt and uncle at this point in time, Hermione…She bit her lip to keep from crying out. How was she supposed to go anywhere? Honestly, the way her parents talked, it seemed as if they thought she had no ability to defend herself. She would be sixteen in September and had studied quite a lot about magical defense.
Hermione was pulled from her thoughts by a knocking at the door.
"Did you get a response from Harry, dear?"
It was her mum. Count on her to cut right to the chase.
"Yes, mum," Hermione said quietly, "He can't come…er…His Aunt and Uncle won't let him." Hermione hadn't told her parents about Harry's strange connection with Lord Voldemort.
"The poor boy, being raised by people like that. But Hermione dear, it's not that I don't trust you; it's that I don't trust other people. If Harry can't come, perhaps your friend with the red hair…Ronald?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. She imagined that the response from asking Ron to come along would be strikingly similar to asking Voldemort very nicely to stop killing muggles.
"I…I don't know," Hermione told her mother, opening the door and handing her the hamper.
"Well why not?" her mother responded, "He's the only other friend of yours I know. I'm not about to ship you off to Bulgaria unless someone I know quite well goes along."
Hermione grimaced. "Ron's a bit…He…well…doesn't like Viktor much," she said quickly, looking down at the floor when she noticed the knowing look on her mother's face.
"Hermione, dear, if he's your friend, I'm sure he'll go along regardless."
Hermione gave her a false smile. Her mum didn't know Ron.
xxx
"I'll take scrambled eggs," Ron decided, "And catsup."
"Ron, that's disgusting," Ginny said, handing him the bottle. "It looks like bloody brains."
"Bwansrntellow," Ron responded, loading his plate up with more eggs. He swallowed. Ginny's eggs were not the same as his mothers, he thought involuntarily. She'd been out working for the Order for the past two nights, and his father was hopeless when it came to cooking. Fred and George were in Diagon Alley working on their shop, and his father was asleep. Percy was still defiantly ignoring his parents and family, which left Ron and Ginny home to fend for themselves.
Tap. tap. Ginny spun around to see a giant brown owl flapping its wings to keep itself airborne outside the kitchen window.
"You want to get that?" she asked, taking the milk from the icebox. Ron licked the catsup off his fingers, and she gave him a dirty look. She opened the window and the owl fluttered in, clacking its talons on the kitchen table.
Ron swallowed another mouthful, then detached the envelope from the owl's foot. He opened it warily.
"Whose owl is that?" Ginny asked Ron, but he ignored her and wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt as he scanned the letter.
"Fine then," Ginny said huffily, "Don't respond."
"Is she serious? Does she really think- I can't even- Honestly, the nerve," he sputtered, "I don't believe her," he said finally.
Ginny took the letter from Ron's hands, and he lifted another forkful of eggs to his mouth. "Whose it from? Hermione?" she asked, noticing the neat handwriting, "Wait, whose owl is this?"
Ron laughed cynically, "It's Vicky's, of course, who else's would it be?"
Ginny gave Ron a knowing look, but he didn't seem to notice. She unfolded the letter and began to read.
Dear Ron,
Viktor's invited me to spend a week with him in Bulgaria, and I was wondering if you'd like to come along. My mum and dad don't want to send me alone, even though I'll be sixteen in September, because they've never met Viktor.
Harry can't come with me because Professor Dumbledore won't let him, and I think it would be fun if you came to see the Quidditch pitch where Viktor plays and to see his team practice.
I can't go without you, Ron, and I really hope you'll consider coming along. I think it'll turn out to be a great time. We can use Floo Powder and leave from the Burrow as soon as I get your response.
Love from,
Hermione
"Oh Ron, you're being silly," Ginny said, "She wants you to come along with her."
"Only so she can see her boyfriend," he protested, "You know, the one who can't even say her name."
Ginny shrugged, "I think she really would enjoy having you along. And she can't go without you," she turned the letter over in her hands, "You wouldn't be much of a friend to tell her no."
Ron dropped his fork into the empty plate. "Listen, Ginny, I don't think you understand. I'll be like…the odd man out…Krum and Hermione are-"
"Ron," Ginny said impatiently, "Did you ever ask Hermione what Krum meant to her?"
Ron shrugged. "I'm not going. They'll be at his house, probably kissing every other minute, and I'll have to sit and watch his big nose crushed up against her face. Sounds like a great week, doesn't it?"
"Well," said Ginny nonchalantly, "I suppose you'll have to go along to make sure that doesn't happen, won't you?"
Ron bit his lip. If he didn't go, he would spend a week imagining just what was going on between Hermione and Krum. If he did go, he would spend a week knowing what was going on between Hermione and Krum. Either way, he wouldn't like what he saw, but it seemed smarter to see the truth and not his imagination, which he would admit, sometimes ran quite far away.
Ginny stood up and took a quill off the table next to the couch.
"Here," she said, "Take this and write her; tell her you'll come along. I can't bear to spend the week with you if she goes without you. You'll be absolutely terrible; just go along."
Ron picked up the quill and turned over the piece of parchment. He expected that Hermione would be very surprised when she got his response.
xxx