'Only one more night then we head back to England, right?' Harry asked Ron, as he drew closer to the campfire. It was bitter cold in the mountains, the wind howled outside the tent. They had stopped because of the blizzard was getting ever more powerful by the second and when they landed on the hard snow, they gave up for the day.

Harry looked around the tent. Neville was reading his latest letter from his mother. Truth be told, it was only a scribble but Neville looked it as if it was a masterpiece. Ron and the twins were in deep conversation about Quidditch. Bill was staring into the fire with concentration and Mr Weasley and Charlie was talking quietly.

As Ron had wrote in his letter to Hermione, they had been travelling. Perhaps little too much travelling, Harry thought as his teeth started to clattered. He just didn't understand why all the wizards had to travel with the Governors for more wizards. Travelling all these countries is not anyone's ideal of fun, he thought, shivering in his cloak. Well, then he thought, France was funny, well, maybe not for Ron.

Harry laughed underneath his breath. Ron was dying for a chocolate frog, ask Bill what to say. Bill, who had been taking lessons from Fleur, told him of course. Ron had practiced it over and over again then walked in the shop and proudly spoke in his best French accent. Soon after, Ron was running out of the shop, having small trinkets aimed at his head. Apparently, Ron had said something that insulting about the owner's mother. Harry was sure that Ron won't be able to live that down for a very long time.

Neville gave a large yawn and smacked his lips together softly, eyes drooping slightly. 'Yes, quite right Neville, I think that it would be best if we all went to bed,' piped in Mr Weasley.

With sleepy murmurs of agreement, they all pulled their blankets over their bodies and closed their eyes until morning.

The next day was a haze. Harry woke up with a stiff neck from the night breeze blowing on it. The blizzard was over and sunlight was streaking through the tent. As it was so cold, they hadn't bothered to change out of their coats and scarves before they feel asleep. They all got up, and when to the kitchens to have a steaming bowl of porridge.

Apparently, Scrimgeour had just had a very long and a very tiring discussion the Bulgarian Minister of Ministry during the late hours of the night. Harry overheard two wizards talking about it.

'Oh yes,' the first wizard said, his lips slightly blue from the cold, his hands over his hot bowl, 'Volovic said that he would only let Scrimgeour about hundred and fifty men. Its looking good for our, doesn't it?'

'I wouldn't say that, Bob,' his companion said, shaking his head. 'I mean, we know that you – Know – Who may not have that many wizards on his side but he has other creatures and all sorts as well.'

The wizard called Bob, looked as though he was going to say something but just shrugged. 'Suppose so, Eugene,' he muttered.

Ron must have being overhearing as well because he then said to Harry, 'Yeah, but don't we have creature as well?' Harry looked at Ron, shrugging. He hadn't seen any dragons or giants or anything of the sort that could possibly help their side. He doubted they did have any. Maybe Grawp could help, Harry thought, hopefully.

'Ron, look!' Harry said, a little louder than he had meant to. Ron looked at what Harry was pointing at, as well as some other people, and they saw what looked like a dark cloud but Harry knew better.

It was the Bulgarian army the Ministry had sent for. They leaned forward and landed with an ease in front of the breakfast tent. They seemed untroubled by coldness or the harsh wind in their faces. One by one, broomsticks on shoulders, they entered the tent.

Harry, who wasn't sure if it was just him, thought they look awkward and wished to be somewhere else. However, there was one who looked over his peers, as if he was searching for someone. It was, with no mistake….

'Vicky,' Ron muttered, 'what is he doing here? Hasn't he got a Quidditch match to win or something?'

'Harry rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face.

Ron said nothing more of the matter. However, he looked vivid when Viktor Krum asked Harry if he could sit with them. Harry, taking a deep breath in, nodded, saying, 'Sure.'

'Thank you, Harry. The others don't want to be here. They don't care,' Krum, said, dully. He sat opposite Ron, who was concentrating on his porridge. 'How have you been?' His English had improved greatly since Harry last saw him.

'Not too bad,' Harry replied, putting a spoonful of porridge in his mouth. He felt it travel down his throat, warming every part of him.

'Hermi-knee is well?' Krum asked. Ron looked up and he started to rub the back of his neck. Obviously he looked up too quickly for his neck's liking.

'She's fine,' Ron snapped. Harry shot him a little. 'She's been fine, I mean,' Ron said more slowly, looking down at his porridge again. 'After you dumped her,' he added in a whispered. He hoped that Krum didn't hear but he did.

'Ron, you've got me wrong,' Krum looked shocked, 'She broke up with me.' A flicker of sadness flashed on his face. 'She said that I was too old, and she wasn't ready for a long distance relationship, when I asked her to visit me. We still friends though. I think she may of have feelings for another though at the time.'

Ron, looking interested again, looked up and tried to cover up his smile, 'Really? Who do you think it was?'

'Well, at first, I thought Harry,' Krum almost look embarrassed, 'but after that talk we had, I was mistaken. Then I thought you, Ron.'

'Oh,' Ron's eyes were going red. He was looking everywhere, except Krum's face.

'Am I right? Does she have feelings for you? Or is it you who have these feeling for her?' Krum asked, looking at Ron hard. Harry, who seemed to be blocked out of this conversation, had his mouth slightly open. Krum had just asked Ron was he; Harry had always wanted to ask him! Harry fixed his eyes on his redhead friend. Ron, whose mouth was doing the action of a fish, looked horrified and even scared.

'Well… I…. She… Oh look at the time! Go to go and pack!' Ron stood up and almost ran out of the tent.

Krum, looking slightly disappointed, looked at Harry again and asked, 'Was it something I said?' Harry just sighed as a reply.

Ron had already packed the previous night.