To Bulgaria and Back: Chapter Three
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 thought that you vould like to see our Ministry of Magic today, Herm-own-ninny?" Hermione smiled and took a sip of her tea.
"That sounds amazing, Viktor." He beamed at her, and Ron stifled a snort, then took a large bite of his toast. He was considering going back home, to tell the truth. Viktor had humiliated him with a deep blow to his manliness last night by making him give up the bed. And today Vicky and Herm-own-ninny would be enjoying the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic, while he walked around behind them and listened to people jabber about in Bulgarian. He wondered whether or not Bulgarian was a language. He'd never heard Krum speak it, had he?
The whole "vacation" seemed enough to make Ron want to scream. If they didn't visit the Quidditch pitch tomorrow, he would certainly be going home to the Burrow. He couldn't stand the repulsive looks Hermione and Krum were giving each other and the way he let his fingers rest on her hand as he poured her tea. The whole business disgusted him. Ron sighed heavily, and Krum's deep, throaty voice interrupted his thoughts.
"There are very many floors in the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic, and very many requirements for those who vant to vork there. They haff to speak English vell, and many know other languages, for it is very important in communication."
"What sorts of departments are there?" Hermione asked, her eyes shining. Ron rolled his own eyes. Count on Hermione to get excited at the mere mention of departments in the government.
"Ve haff very many, most are very similar to the ones in your ministry, but ve haff many more foreign departments. There are many less witches and wizards in Bulgaria than there are in England, so ve vork tirelessly for international communications."
"Are we going to see your Quidditch pitch?" Ron interrupted.
Krum smiled. "Of course, if that is what Herm-own-ninny vishes."
"I would love to see it," Hermione said, glancing at Ron, who smiled thankfully at her. "In fact," Hermione continued, "Ron brought his broomstick along; Last year he was made Keeper on the Gryffindor Quidditch team."
"Really?" Krum looked surprised. "I vould love to play vith you. I am Seeker, but I vouldn't mind playing Chaser against you."
"I dunno about playing," Ron said, turning pink. Truthfully, he didn't want to be playing against any Quidditch professional. "Maybe we'll just...ride around."
Krum's face fell. Hermione shot him a look that painfully reminded him of Snape.
"You do not vant to play Quidditch against me?"
"He's afraid to lose," Hermione shot in, and Ron looked at her scornfully.
"I am not...It's just...my broom isn't one of the best."
"It does not matter the broom," Krum said, waving his hand, "It is the rider upon it that matters." Ron smiled weakly. "Vell, ve haff until next Sunday, and it is only Monday. You don't haff to make a decision right avay. I have Quidditch practice tomorrow night, Thursday night, and Friday, so you both are velcome to come along and vatch."
"We'd love to," Hermione said. "What else are we planning to do during the week?"
"Vell, I was thinking of perhaps visiting our hospital, St. Cherepishki's."
"So that's it? A hospital, Quidditch, and the ministry?"
"Vell, unless you haff something else to suggest," Krum said with a touch of warning in his voice. "There are always the grounds around my house. Ve have a river, a shrine, and a herd of cattle, if you are interested."
"Whatever you'd like to show us, Viktor," Hermione said, shooting Ron a dirty look.
"How about Durmstrang? Can't you take us there?"
"I'm afraid Durmstrang is very far from here. Much farther north than Bulgaria. It takes us a couple of days by train to reach it."
"That's why fur is part of their uniforms, right Viktor?" He smiled at Hermione.
"Of course. But I am quite glad it is not closer to me than it is right now; Durmstrang holds many memories that I vish I could forget at times."
"Like Karkaroff?" Ron prodded.
"Exactly," Krum said, but he made no gesture to explain anything more, so Ron fell silent.
"Erm," Hermione said, interrupting the silence. "What time will we be leaving?"
"Vhatever time you vould like, but hopefully vithin the hour."
"All right then, I'm just going to go upstairs and get ready." She turned on her heel and climbed the stairs two by two, leaving Ron and Krum to stare at one another awkwardly.
"Vell..."
"Er..."
"Yes..."
"I'll just be upstairs waiting for Hermione," Ron said quickly, as he had no idea what to say to Viktor Krum.
This was a professional Quidditch player standing right in front of him. If it was any professional Quidditch player, Ron would be begging for an autograph or staring at him in a reverie. But this was a professional Seeker who had feelings for Hermione, and even after two years of suspicions and jealousy, Ron still didn't know how that made him feel.
Ron took the stairs one by one, leaving Krum staring confusedly after his flaming red hair and secondhand robes.
xxx
"Almost ready, Hermione?"
"No."
"Good then. The longer you take, the shorter time we'll have to stay in the Ministry."
Hermione stepped out of the bathroom that joined the room they were sharing to shoot Ron a dirty look. "You couldn't have stayed downstairs with Viktor? Just talk to him, Ron," she pleaded, "he's really very nice."
Ron stared at her without absorbing her previous words. "Hermione...your hair..."
Hermione grinned smugly. "Do you like it? I decided it's easier to manage if I put it up."
"It looks...different," he said, his expression unreadable. She had placed it atop her head with curls streaming out. Ron stared at her for a second more, still slightly shocked, then lowered himself onto the bed and pretended to look at his watch, though he was still inwardly marveling over the fact that she did not look like the Hermione he knew.
"Do you think Viktor will like it?" she asked nonchalantly, and Ron snapped his head back up to look at her, angry that she could be thinking, once again, of Viktor.
"No, he'll think it looks terrible." Hermione narrowed her eyebrows.
"You know, Ron, you could at least try to be a friend. Viktor hasn't done one thing to you. Stop acting like a child!"
"You shouldn't change the way you look so people will like you, Hermione," Ron shot at her. "If anything, that's acting like a child."
"Excuse me? You're calling me childish? Did a ruin a perfectly nice person's time at the Yule Ball in fourth year? Do I pitch a fit every time I hear my friend talking about someone she's writing a letter to?"
Ron blushed. "Well I'm just saying, Hermione...er..." he glanced at her angry face, still slightly mesmerized by her hair...When she put it up that way she sort of looked...pretty. Shaking the thought away, (Hermione was one of his best friends, how could he even think such a thing?) he cleared his throat and went slightly pink in the ears. Hermione need never know that he had thought something like that. "Er...if Vicky really likes you, he wouldn't need you to do things like that," he waved his hand at her hair, and she bit her lip in anger.
"Maybe you should stop being such a hypocrite, Ron. It certainly seems that the only time you notice me is when I do things like that." She waved her hand in imitation of him, grabbed her cloak from the chair and stomped out of the room.
Ron stared at the doorway for a moment. The only time he noticed her was when she did her hair? What was that supposed to mean? Of course he noticed when she dressed differently; how could someone not...It was not exactly hard to miss Hermione's hair when it was down...Her whole face looked different when it was back. What was she bloody getting at?
Ron stood up, shaking slightly, and went into the bathroom, took the whole bottle of whatever it was she was using to subdue her hair, and threw it against the wall in anger. A bit more calmly, he picked up his comb from the countertop and stared at his hair in the mirror; if she was doing herself up, he might as well try to look acceptable.
"You might try not to anger her so much next time," said the mirror in a knowing voice. "If you heard the things she was saying about you, mister..."
Ron grunted and threw his comb at the mirror, ignoring its moan of pain. Once again, it seemed like everybody was against him.
xxx
"And this is the Department of Magical Games. Before I became Seeker, I had a summertime job doing much paperwork."
Ron clicked his tongue impatiently. They'd been at the Ministry for nearly two hours. Two hours, wandering around and listening to a million and seven bloody people say "Ah, Viktor, who is this pretty young lady? Is she not your girlfriend?" or jabber excitedly in Bulgarian (or, if Bulgarian wasn't a language, a tongue that he did not know nor care to learn). Hermione would blush and say no, that they weren't dating, and Krum would take her hand and lead her off to examine goblin statues, and the Department for the Aid and Welfare of Creatures of Near Human Intelligence. Hermione had particularly enjoyed that one, going on and on about SPEW, which Viktor translated to an excited worker.
"Did you do things other than paperwork, Viktor?"
"Vell, just small jobs like errands and processing demands for new Quidditch equipment."
"Is that how you got recruited?" Ron asked.
"I suppose. You see, much equipment was donated to the Department to donate to our Bulgarian Quidditch team, and they feared it might contain a hex or something to that effect, so they had me test much of it out, and decided that I could be an...vhat is the word...asset to their team."
"They took you on when the old Seeker, Bily Jaroslav retired, right?" Ron asked.
"Vhy, yes," Krum said, looking surprised. "I did not know that those from England vould know so much about Bulgarian Quidditch. He vas not a very vell known Seeker."
Ron beamed, and Hermione smiled in spite of the fact that Ron had been acting like a complete git all day. At least being complimented by Viktor could make him feel a little bit better.
"How much longer are we going to be here?" Ron interrupted, and Hermione sighed.
"I vas just going to show Herm-own-ninny one last Department, if that's all right."
Ron shrugged. His feet were aching, it was at least three o'clock, and it would easily take them an hour to get back to Krum's house. "If it's all right, I think I'm going to sit down and take a rest." He sat down on a wooden bench, hoping they would agree.
Krum smiled, "Of course it is all right with me." He took Hermione's hand and dragged her off. Ron stood up for a second, contemplating whether or not he should follow them. Krum had seemed awfully happy that he was leaving the two of them alone, hadn't he?
Shaking off an unsettling mental picture of the two of them snogging beside a marble statue of a house elf, he began to walk around again. Maybe he'd have a look at the fountain in the middle of the room.
"Psst! Boy, over here."
Ron whirled around, sticking his hand in the pocket of his robes and fishing for his wand. He held it out straight, and the strange voice began to laugh at him.
"I'm not here to harm you, boy. You can put that vand away, you silly child."
"Who're you calling a silly child?" Ron asked, highly offended. A crouching old woman stepped out from behind a pillar. Her skin looked like wrinkled old leather, giving him the impression that if something touched it, it would flake off in chunks.
Swallowing a huge urge to vomit, he stared at the frightful looking woman.
"Erm...Who're you?"
"Just an old voman looking to test out her latest-"
"I don't have any gold," Ron said immediately, and the woman began to laugh. He was instantly sorry he had said anything, because her laugh made her face contort and her skin appear to slip further from the bones. His eyes widened at the sight of her.
"I don't need gold, boy, don't need any type of payment. I vork for the vell being of others."
Ron found it highly unlikely that anyone would do that, but it certainly explained her appearance. Without money, she couldn't eat, and her decrepit face and skeletal body certainly gave her the appearance of someone who was starving. He instantly felt a wave of pity for the woman. Despite her frightening appearance, she probably wasn't a bad person. He sighed.
"What've you got?"
"First, tell me who you are here vith, my boy," she said.
"Erm...Well, my best friend Hermione took me along when our other friend Harry said he couldn't come. She's visiting Viktor Krum, the Seeker on the Bulgarian Quidditch team. We're from England," the woman snorted at the obviousness of the statement, and he smiled. "Her parents wouldn't let her travel alone."
"Ah, yes, so good friend you are, aren't you? To travel vith her?"
Ron shrugged. "Everyone keeps saying so, but I only came because I don't trust her and Viktor Krum alone."
The woman nodded knowingly. "So then, you like this girl?"
"No!" Ron said quickly. "We're just friends." He mentally took back any pity he had for her; she was obviously stupid if she thought that he thought anything more for Hermione than friendship. He shook away a fleeting vision of Hermione's hair that morning. What was wrong with him lately?
The old woman smiled, displaying a gold tooth amidst her row of yellow ones. "Thinking things you'd rather not think?"
Ron blinked. How in hell... "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, rotating on the spot. There was something bloody wrong with her, and he was getting away from her as quick as possible.
The woman put her hand on his shoulder, and he turned back around to face her.
"I've vritten something that I'd like to share..." Her eyes went round and white and she stared directly at him. He took a massive step back, but it didn't stop him from hearing the words of her raspy voice...
"Six years it has been
The friendship for you
Though you tease and you fight
You are one of two
There's been fighting and dangers
Some vere and vill be taken above
I presume it safe to say
It will end in-"
"Ron, are you ready to leave?" Ron turned around, eyes wide, to see Hermione's face looking at him confusedly. "Is something wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Ron shook his head. "There was this odd old lady...We were talking..." He turned around to where the woman was standing. There was no one there. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.
"I didn't see any woman," Hermione said to him, putting her hand on his arm. "Ron, are you sure you're all right?
He didn't answer her. He was certain there had been a woman there. But what unsettled him more was the poem she had recited...The poem...He shook his head, almost dazed...He was imagining things. It stemmed from a lack of food. They'd been wandering around the Ministry for ages, obviously he would be hungry.
"Ron, are you positive you're all right?" Hermione looked very concerned.
Ron turned to look at where the old woman had been standing once more as Hermione guided him across the marble floor and past the columns toward Krum.
He was certain there had been an old woman...
"I'm fine," Ron said quickly. "Just fine."
He followed Hermione and Krum through the Ministry, the frightening old woman's raspy voice still in his head.
It will end in...
xxx