To Bulgaria and Back: Chapter Two

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

"I think it's a great idea. Viktor Krum's bound to be willing to show you around. You can take the camera and take pictures, Ron."

Run grunted and shoveled mashed potatoes into his mouth. Hermione would be arriving in an hour. He had agreed to go along with her, but he'd assured Hermione in his last letter to her that if anything happened between Krum and her directly in front of him he'd be taking the next fireplace straight back to England, and he meant it.

"I think it'll be fabulous, mum," said Ginny, taking a bite of her chicken. "It's a shame Harry can't go, but he'll love to see photographs, won't he?"

"You just love making Harry happy, don't you?" Ron said, and took a bite of his food before Ginny could protest.

"Professor Dumbledore has his reasons for not letting Harry along," Mrs. Weasley said, spooning mashed potatoes onto her husband's plate. "I'm just quite glad we all can have dinner together before you two leave tomorrow," she said to Ron and Ginny.

"Yes," Mr. Weasley said, "And you'll be quite all right with Fred and George in Diagon Alley, Ginny?"

Ginny nodded, "I'll be fine, daddy."

"Don't make too much trouble for them," Mrs. Weasley said resignedly, as she still didn't approve of the career choice of her twin sons.

"Leaves us free to stay at Grimmauld Place and do some extra work for the Order," Mr. Weasley said quietly. Nobody met his eyes. Grimmauld Place had always been a dark place, but with the death of Sirius, it seemed even more so.

"Ron, dear, how is Hermione arriving?" Mrs. Weasley asked heavily, breaking the silence that hung in the air around the four.

Ron swallowed. "I think she said her parents were planning to drive her in their car."

"Are they planning to come inside?" asked Mr. Weasley excitedly, "I had wanted to ask them about this machine I heard…A cumpewter, I thought it was…"

Ron tuned his father out as he enthusiastically began talking about mice and montyers. He was still concerned with the week that lay ahead of him. His stomach turned over and he felt as if the chicken he was eating was clucking at him.

A sudden ringing broke through the house, and Ginny, Mrs. Weasley and Ron looked up fearfully.

"What's that?" Ginny asked.

Mr. Weasley blushed, "It's…er…nothing, nothing at all." He stood up and walked to the front room to open the door, where stood Hermione and her parents. Mrs. Wealsey followed him.

"What in the world was that, Arthur?" she asked with disdain.

"Muggles call it a doorbell," he said, as though this was ingenious. He smiled at Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who wheeled Hermione's trunk into the house. Ron swallowed the last bite of his food, and, followed by Ginny, went to greet Hermione.

"And you made this awful thing ring when people arrive? This is what muggles use to greet each other with?"

"Actually, it's like a knocker, except louder," said Hermione helpfully.

"Arthur, honestly," Mrs. Weasley said, "I hope you didn't use magic to tamper with this in any way."

He shifted uncomfortably and looked down at the floor, then turned to the Grangers, "Care for a cup of tea?" They smiled and followed him into the kitchen.

Mrs. Weasley followed, and audibly mumbled, "Installing silly muggle trinkets…this is what he spends his time doing…"

Hermione smiled, then gave Ginny and Ron each a hug. "I'm sorry Harry couldn't come along with us," she told Ron, pushing a bushy curl behind her ear.

"So am I," Ron agreed quickly. He secretly wished that Harry could've gone so either he wouldn't have had to, or so that he would've had a companion. Hermione gave him an odd look. "Er…I mean…It's a shame he can't see the pitch Krum plays on…he sure would've loved it." Hermione stalked away towards the kitchen, and Ginny followed, throwing Ron an immensely dirty look.

He shrugged. Hermione certainly shouldn't be the one angry with him, considering her only means of arriving in Bulgaria were connected directly to him. Perhaps I'll just tell her I changed my mind, he thought evilly, though he knew he'd be going along whether he liked it or not. His mother would throw him straight into the fireplace, not caring whether he choked to death on dust or arrived in Madagascar.

He took Hermione's trunk and wheeled it over to the fireplace, then resignedly trotted off towards the kitchen.

"Hello," he said awkwardly, seeing as he was interrupting. Hermione and her parents were seated at the table with his father, and Ginny and his mother was bustling around pouring tea for everyone sitting at the table, already deep in conversation, no doubt speaking about cumpewters, or what a dentist was.

"Hello," said Mr. Granger, reaching out a hand to shake Ron's. He took it and shook meekly, and then turned to Hermione, who didn't meet his eye. "We're awfully glad you'll be taking care of our daughter for a week," he said. Ron blushed.

"Don't worry, she'll have Viktor Krum for that," he said without thinking.

Hermione's mother arched an eyebrow. "Hermione, dear, are you-"

"No, mum," Hermione said quickly, shooting Ron an angry look, "Ron's just got a bit against Viktor."

"We aren't quite sure why," said Ginny helpfully, "Viktor's awfully nice." She sent Ron a look that told him full well not to say anything more.

"That's certainly the makings of a good friend," Hermione's dad said, clapping Ron on the back, "If you don't even like the boy and you'll travel across Europe for her to see him."

Ron gave them a false smile. "He's…not bad," he said, but the words felt like poison on his tongue. "Er, can I speak to Hermione for a moment," he asked, "Alone," he amended, as Ginny made to stand up with her.

Hermione followed Ron out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Honestly, Ron, the nerve, Viktor and I are just friends, you can't go around saying that Viktor'll take good care of me in front of my parents!"

"Well, why can't I, it's absolutely true!"

Hermione struggled to keep her voice level, "No matter what you may think, Ronald, Viktor Krum and I are not dating. I haven't made mention of this to my mother, she thinks I just get along quite better with boys than with girls. Please keep anything you may think about our relationship to yourself."

Ron smiled emotionlessly, "So, your mum doesn't know that you fancy Viktor and he fancies you?"

Hermione bit her lip to keep herself from screaming, and the result was a snarl that made Ron take a step up the stairs away from her. "I don't fancy Viktor, Ron, and you should quite well know that."

"I- I should quite well know that? All I know is that you're constantly writing novels to send off to him, and then you ask me for a favor and I agree, and you act like a-"

"Like a what?" Hermione asked dangerously.

"You asked Harry before me!" He shouted at her, "You didn't want me to come at all!"

Hermione looked at him quizzically, "How did you know that?"

"Your letter seemed to give it away," he said pleasantly, pulling a crumpled bit of parchment from his pocket. He unfolded it and noticed it was blank, with smudges of green ink on it. "Er…Mum must've put these pants in the wash," he said embarrassedly.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Ron, I only asked Harry first because I know he gets along with Viktor better than you do."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that…Well…I'm sure that Viktor remembers how you treated him at the Yule Ball, Ron…It isn't as if you apologized."

"I asked him for his autograph, Hermione," Ron said, as if this was an apparent way to apologize.

"That's not an apology, Ron," Hermione sighed.

"It's as good as one," he said angrily. "Listen, you should be happy I'm going along…I know you didn't expect it."

"I certainly did expect it. And I'm glad you're coming along, now you won't whine and wonder just what Viktor and I did as soon as you found out I went to visit him."

"I don't whine!" Ron shouted.

"No, of course not," Hermione yelled, "How could I have been mistaken? You whimper and complain."

Ron eyed her angrily, "Fine, you know what…I won't come along, Hermione."

Hermione looked as if this information hadn't had the slightest effect upon her. "You know full well that your mother will throw you straight into that fireplace with me, as you've already promised that you'd come along. Why bother to argue?"

Ron shrugged and sat down on the steps. Hermione sat down next to him. "I can't stand it when we fight," she said quietly.

"Why, because you never win?" Ron asked, a grin tugging his lips upward.

Hermione narrowed her eyebrows. "For your information, I-"

"Are you two ready to leave?" Mrs. Weasley asked, interrupting Hermione's angry response. "Ron, dear, your trunk's all packed?"

"Yes mum," he said, standing up, "It's right next to the fireplace." She smiled and grabbed him, pulling him into a large unwanted and unreturned hug.

"You'll be all right, now, won't you?"

"Yes, mum, I'll be fine." She leaned in to hug him again.

"Hermione, you'll take care of him, won't you?"

Hermione smiled, "Of course I will, Mrs. Weasley."

"See that he changes his underpants every day, Hermione, he has a bad habit of-"

"MUM!" Ron shouted, turning pink. Hermione began to laugh and hugged Mrs. Weasley.

"Of course I will," she assured her. Ginny, Mr. Weasley, and Hermione's parents came into the front room to the fireplace.

"Ready to leave?" Mr. Weasley asked, clapping his hands together with excitement, "We just bought more Floo powder, so we'll be sure to have enough," he assured them.

"Do you both have your trunks? And Ron, do you have your broom?" Ginny asked as they followed Mrs. Weasley into the front room.

"Yes," Hermione and Ron answered.

"And the camera?" Mrs. Weasley asked, rushing over with it and placing it inside his trunk.

"Cloaks, in case it gets chilly?" They nodded. Mrs. Weasley ushered them towards the fireplace, barely letting Hermione stop to kiss her mother and father goodbye. Ron threw a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace and waited for it to turn emerald green, then grabbed his trunk by the handle and made to stoop into the fireplace.

"Take her hand," Mr. Weasley said, "If you get lost, at least you'll be together. Come straight back here if you do."

Hermione reluctantly took Ron's hand, as she was still quite angry with him, then grabbed her trunk and waved goodbye to her parents.

They stepped in the fireplace and Hermione shouted Ekaterina Place. And they were spinning violently through the air; their ears were screaming as a whirl of green flames brutally attacked them. It was like this for more than a minute, and then everything suddenly went deadly still.

xxx

Ron toppled out of the fireplace, landing headfirst on a dark red wooden floor. He rolled over, moaning, and Hermione fell out of the fireplace, straight on top of him.

"Ouch!" he said angrily, boosting himself up off the floor.

"Well, if you hadn't let go of my hand!"

"I didn't let go of your hand, you let go of my hand!"

Hermione looked at him angrily, but decided to stay nothing. She stood up and looked at the room they were in. The fireplace they had just come out of was built of beautiful red stones that, although jagged, seemed to fit together perfectly. There was a bearskin rug covering the floor across from the fireplace, with a matching couch and armchair. A massive chandelier hung from the center of the room, where all the visible wooden beams met. It curved down gracefully and sent streams of light across the room.

"It's very pretty, isn't it?" Hermione asked Ron, who still hadn't gotten up from the floor.

"I think I broke my back," he muttered painfully. "It aches like mad." Hermione lent him a hand to stand up with and he took it, but didn't look at her. "Where are we?" he asked, brushing his pants off a bit.

"I suppose we're in Viktor Krum's house, Ron," said Hermione with a touch of sarcasm.

"Are you sure we got off at the right grate?"

Hermione shrugged. This was the first time in her life that she was not quite sure about something.

"Viktor! It's Hermione! I've gotten here all right." Hermione shouted, and Ron sent her a disgruntled look, then settled himself down on the sofa. "Ron, you can't sit there, you're covered in soot!" She opened her trunk, took a large brush out of it, and proceeded to brush Ron off, while he blushed and muttered something that particularly sounded like mom.

A thumping came down the stairs in the other room, and then a dark clad figure ran into the room.

"Herm-own-ninny," the figure said happily, wrapping his long arms around her.

"Hello Viktor," Hermione said quietly, hugging him back.

Ron gave a loud cough from the couch, and Krum looked up, taken aback. He stared at Ron for a moment, then stared at Hermione.

"Herm-own-ninny?" Krum said uncertainly.

"Mum and dad didn't want me traveling alone," Hermione said in a false bright voice. "So, I brought Ron along."

Ron stood up and put out his hand for Krum to shake. He took it, but shook it weakly, still slightly speechless.

"Er…Vell, ve vill have fun regardless," Krum said slowly. He took Hermione's hand and led her to the kitchen. "Are the two of you hungry?"

"No, we just ate," Hermione said, and Ron closed his mouth, which was intending to say the exact opposite. He glared at Hermione, whose hand was intertwined with Viktor's.

"Vell, ve only haff one room prepared, you will haff to share it, is that all right?"

Both Hermione and Ron looked at each other uncertainly.

"I suppose," Hermione said tonelessly. "I'll just get my trunk." Ron followed her, grabbing his own trunk.

"I vill take them," Krum said, pulling his wand from his pants pocket and tapping the trunks. They followed the three up the staircase, and Krum stopped in front of a dark wooden door after making a left at the top of the staircase.

"There is only one bed," Krum said, "I'll look for a sleeping bag for Ron."

Hermione opened the door, and Ron followed her in. "It's beautiful." A crimson comforter covered the dark wooden bed on the wall across from the door, and it had a matching canopy. The same dark wood used in so much of the home was on the floor covered with a crimson rug, and there were matching dressers and tables, along with large, soft white pillows on the bed.

Ron jumped on top of the bed, bouncing slightly. "How come I get the sleeping bag?"

"Because you're supposed to give up the bed for the girl, Ron."

Ron stretched out on the pillows comfortably. "Why can't we share it? It's big enough."

"Because that's not proper, Ron."

"Because that's not proper, Ron," he mimicked. Hermione threw a pillow at him.

"You're the biggest prat I've ever met."

Ron buried his face in the pillow. "Fine then, you take the sleeping bag."

"Here, I haff it," Krum said, entering the room. He set it down on the floor; Ron made no move to climb into it. "You vill not give up the bed for Herm-own-ninny?"

Ron blushed, and Hermione made an impatient clucking noise with her tongue. "It is vhat any man would do, especially I," he assured him. Ron got off the bed as if it were on fire, and Hermione flashed Krum a grin. He smiled and shut the door. "I vill see the two of you in the morning for breakfast."

xxx