To Bulgaria and Back: Chapter Five

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.

A/N: I must apologize for the SEVERLY long time between updates. (More than 4 months! winces) I've been awfully busy with school and homework. Finally on Christmas break, and I think I may be able to finish this story up during it. I want to thank a bunch of loyal reviewers for begging me to continue this story…I do hope you come back and read it. Thanks for making me want to continue. You guys are awesome.

xxx

"Ron?" Hermione's voice was loud, even though Ron had both the door to their room and the adjoining bathroom closed. "Ron, are you all right?"

He ignored her and focused on scrubbing at the mess on his robes and pants, which he had taken off and laid on the counter. He stood in his tee shirt and shorts, with his bare feet frozen on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor. Ron had seriously considered borrowing Viktor's toothbrush to help him clean his pants, but he had thought better of it at the last moment.

"Ron?" the bathroom door slid open and Hermione's face peeked through.

"GET OUT, HERMIONE!" Ron yelled, leaping behind the toilet. "I'm in my shorts!"

He heard the door click shut and her laughter from behind it, but he did not find the situation remotely humorous. He stoodup once more and turned the water faucet back on.

"Ron? Do you need some help?"

"No."

"Don't be angry at me, Ron. It wasn't my fault you fell."

"It was your fault you brought me here."

"You chose to come," Hermione's voice said, and he noticed a tinge of sadness in her voice. "I thought we would have fun together."

"Right. Fun with Vicky," Ron said through gritted teeth. He took the brush and scrubbed harder. The door creaked open once more. "HERMIONE!"

"What- Oh, Ron, you're all covered. It's nothing I haven't seen before." She tiptoed into the bathroom and took the pants and robes from his hands. "Why don't you go change while I work on these?"

"I said I didn't need any help."

"Well, I want to help, Ron." He muttered something incoherent back at her. "What was that?" She glanced at him, and their eyes met for a split second. She lowered her eyes and suddenly her face began to burn. He suddenly remembered he was standing beside her in his shorts. It was Ron's turn to blush.

"I told you not to come in," he stammered at her, after a moment of awkward silence between them. Hermione's face turned magenta.

"I'm sorry, Ron."

"About barging in?" Ron asked, and then added hastily, "or about laughing at me?"

"Is that why you're upset?" Hermione asked, it suddenly dawning on her, "Because we laughed at you?"

"No," Ron said immediately. Hermione looked at him quizzically, but said nothing for a moment.

"I'm sorry for both of those things, Ron," she finally said. He grunted back at her. "You could at least accept my apology," she said, rubbing his robes with the brush.

"Thanks," Ron told her gruffly.

"You know, it was silly of me to laugh at you then when I could be laughing at you in your shorts now," Hermione joked. Ron turned pink, and they stood together in awkward silence for a couple of moments, until Ron walked out of the bathroom to change.

Hermione watched him from the bathroom with a bemused expression for a second. His rumpled red hair and freckled nose, his wrinkled shirt and embarrassment at her seeing him in his shorts made her stomach turn. She went back to scrubbing at his pants, feeling color rise to her cheeks even though Ron was in the other room. What was it about Ron Weasley that made her feel differently than she had ever felt before?

xxx

"Ron? Are you asleep?" Hermione's voice came from the door behind him. He was laying with his eyes shut on the bed, facing the window. It looked like it was beginning to rain, and his mood matched the storm on the outside.

"No."

"Viktor's just left for Quidditch practice and I told him we weren't coming along."

"You didn't want to go and watch?" Ron asked sarcastically.

"I wanted to spend a bit of time with you," Hermione said gently.

Ron studied her face for a moment, wishing he'd kept the sarcastic comment to himself. "Thanks, Hermione."

She smiled at him, then sat down on the bed. He sat up beside her, and she moved closer to him when they heard heavy drops of rain begin to fall.

"D'you know what we are doing tomorrow?" he asked. She studied his freckled nose for a second, then shook her head, landing a few of her curls on Ron's neck

"I thought Krum said something about going into town," Ron offered weakly, as the roar of the rain became louder and Hermione placed a hand on his own.

"Maybe," Hermione whispered, running her fingers along his warm hand, but snatched her hand back almost immediately. What had gotten into her?

"D'you think that one day everything will be normal?" Ron asked suddenly. "With Harry? And…You…Vol…Voldemort," he stammered.

Hermione felt that this was an appropriate time to squeeze his hand and did so; Ron blushed scarlet, and she felt her heart do a nosedive. What was getting into her?

"I hope so," she said quietly. "But nobody will know until it happens."

"I…I don't think we should fight anymore," Ron said, turning towards her and focusing his eyes on her own. She kept her eyes lined up with his own, trying not to notice their interesting color or their sparkle despite the subject they were talking about.

"Never thought I'd see the day," Hermione said sarcastically, and Ron grinned in spite of himself.

"I'm serious though," Ron said once he'd finished chuckling. "Harry needs us. And we can't be so focused on one another if we want to help him."

Hermione stopped. Did he mean what she thought he did? She pulled her hand out of his immediately. They couldn't be focused on one another if they wanted to help Harry. Focused on one another…how so? Romantically? Or pugnaciously?

It seemed like he noticed her confusion. "You…don't want to stop fighting?"

"Oh, don't be silly Ron," Hermione lied quickly, "I just thought it's easier to promise something than to keep that promise."

"Well, we've been best friends for six years," Ron said defensively. "I would think we'd be able to keep promises by now."

"We can keep promises, Ron, it's just that this is different somehow. I can't promise that to you unless our relationship changes somehow." She put her hand over her mouth, but Ron barreled on, not noticing her allusion to a romance that even in the past day, she had been suddenly craving more than anything.

"Well, I can change, Hermione. I can promise you that. I'll…I don't know, do my homework more often. I won't ask you to let me copy yours. And I won't make fun of you about SPEW either."

"It's S.P.E.W., Ron."

"I know, Hermione, I just couldn't resist," he grinned sheepishly at her, and she couldn't help but smile back at him. That suddenly mischievous, handsome smile- and she'd thought only Fred and George had the mischievous streak of the Weasley family. Perhaps Ron had more surprises within him than she'd thought. In six years, she'd never seen him smile like that at her. As if he was egging her on, teasing her purposefully.

It was flattering, come to think of it. Her cheeks began to burn, which made that smile ever wider.

"Well, how about this, Ron. I'll lecture you less often about doing your homework in a timely fashion. And I'll let you copy mine more often."

"Really?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Absolutely not," Hermione responded. "You'll never learn if you don't do it on your own."

Ron grinned at her again, and Hermione laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She wished their promise of not fighting was something that they might one day be able to keep, because she figured that with it would come seeing Ron's handsome smile a bit more often, and she certainly liked seeing that smile.

xxx

"Ve are very lucky," Krum said, grabbing the metal handhold above him. "Ve just made that train. Ve vill not haff to vait for the next one."

"Here," said Ron, "You can sit down." He motioned to Hermione, who smiled at him.

"Thanks Ron," she said. He gripped the handhold above her and tried not to look into her eyes. She turned to look out the window of the train for a moment. It was creaking along, the whole car shaking, and Ron was careful not to follow with his eyes to where Hermione was looking. He had eaten quite a bit too much before they had gotten on the train and he expected he'd be nothing less than queasy if he looked at the spinning scenery outside of the train window.

They were headed into Plovdiv, a large city in southern Bulgaria. Viktor said that all women enjoyed looking into the large windows at the fancy clothes and jewelry, and had insisted that Hermione visit it before they left Bulgaria.

Ron looked over at Hermione- she was grinning as she peered out the window at the twirling landscape. He glanced toward Krum, who was sifting through his wallet. He met Ron's eyes for a moment, and motioned the wallet towards Hermione. Ron felt a giant stab of jealousy in the pit of his stomach. He slipped his hand in his pocket, trying not to attract Viktor's birdlike stare. Four sickles. He felt his lunch leap up into his mouth, a combined effect of a sudden turn of the train and his realization that he had nothing to offer Hermione on this excusion. He was confined to watch from the sideline as Viktor Krum, international Quidditch star, wooed his best friend and long-time but short-admitted love interest.

Ron glanced over at Hermione again, and noticed immediately that her eyes were upon him; she blushed and turned back towards the window.

"Are you haffing fun, Herm-own-ninny?" Viktor asked. He seemed intent on providing Hermione with the perfect trip.

Hermione turned towards him with a quiet smile. "Of course, Viktor. It's beautiful." He smiled back at her, and Ron felt his stomach quiver.

"It is the next stop," Viktor said after about fifteen minutes of silence. He shifted his weight on the pole he was holding, and Ron bit his lip, watching Viktor's impressive muscles shift with him. He remembered that tomorrow he would be on the Quidditch pitch playing against him.

The train slowed to a stop, and Krum took Hermione's hand and ushered her and Ron to the doors of the train, which opened as soon as they got there.

They were standing on an open air train platform, raised many feet above the ground so that Ron could easily see much of Plovdiv. The buildings were tall, but there were no skyscrapers. He grinned in spite of himself. It was incredible to look at a wall of trees on a hill to his right and buildings to his left.

"Come," Viktor said, and Ron came back down to earth when he realized he was still holding Hermione's hand. "I haff to show you the stores, Herm-own-ninny."

Ron followed from behind as Viktor and Hermione peeked into store windows, still holding one another's hands. He tried not to remember that it was just last night when Hermione had held his hand. He shook the thoughts of how her hand felt in his own from his mind. It was obvious she was interested in Viktor, and he'd do well to forget about this stupid crush and let her be happy.

"Vell boy, how has it been?" Ron swiveled his head around and noticed a crouching old woman beside a lamp post. "Haff any luck vith the pretty girl?"

Ron bit his lip. It couldn't be. If it was…He turned toward the voice. There was no mistaking her leathery skin. The woman began to laugh; a loud, throaty croaking sound that made many of the bustling people on the street turn to stare.

"I…er…don't know what you're talking about," Ron said, and began to walk to where Viktor and Hermione were, just twenty meters ahead of him. The old woman's hand shot out. He was surprised at how strong she was, for she was able to steer him back towards her.

"I haff something to say to you, boy," she said. Ron rolled his eyes. He honestly was in no mood to hear another poem. The first one had left him troubled enough. He suddenly realized how unlikely it was to see the same woman in Plovdiv and in Krum's small town about an hour away. Was he being stalked? A sudden shiver went up his spine, but it seemed the old woman hadn't noticed. Her eyes had gone white and round like marbles, just like that first time she had spoken to him.

You haff realized something
You denied once before
This is no fling
It is something, for sure.

But vhat is it? Vho knows?
Tell her how you feel
Don't let her suppose
Or she von't know for real.

"Are you aware that your poetry is really quite terrible?" Ron asked her.

The woman grinned, revealing rows of rotting teeth. "But it is helpful, no?"

Ron shrugged. "I suppose. It's just…How did you-"

"Ron?" He turned his head towards Hermione's voice.

"Hermione?"

"We're just going to go into this store, if that's all right," she said. He forced a grin.

"Sure, Hermione." She smiled broadly at him.

"All right, Ron," Hermione said. She pranced away towards Viktor, and Ron clenched his fists in anger. Suddenly she came swirling back towards him. "You know, Ron, you can come inside with us, if you'd like," she offered.

He nodded. "I'll meet you inside, then." If possible, her smile grew wider.

"Thanks, Ron." She ran back towards Viktor, and Ron noticed he tried to take her hand in his own, but she pulled it out of his grasp. His chest suddenly felt like it would burst from excitement. Ron turned back towards the old woman with an enthusiastic roar, but she was nowhere to be found. He was alone next to the lamp post.

He supposed he should go inside and meet them, and he did so, accompanied by a tiny euphoria that he sincerely hoped would grow.

xxx