Hermione dropped onto the old bed in the cramped room she was to share with Ginny and tried not to cringe as the tired springs dug into her body at weird angles. She thought of all the magic in the world that had already been invented, and yet somehow not a single wizard had ever attempted to replicate a Tempur mattress. Hermione pulled the thin duvet up to her chin and twisted the edges around her hands, trying to prevent any of the frigid air from getting into the bed with her. Not only was Grimmauld Place falling apart, creepy and damp, it was also freezing at night. Dragon had taken one look at their new surroundings and refused to get out of Hermione's trunk at all, and she found she could hardly blame him. Hermione had managed to wedge open the lid, using a few of her old textbooks, and Dragon had bedded himself down in her jumpers. He was no doubt a good deal more comfortable at that moment than she was.
All in all, a happy, restful night of sleep seemed unlikely. Hermione was debating whether to brave the wrath of Mrs Weasley to go out in search of another blanket - or maybe the materials to start a small fire - when she heard socked feet rush across the cracked wooden floor and Ginny all but fell on top of her.
"Get your claws out of the covers and let me in Hermione," Ginny demanded as she grabbed at the insubstantial blanket.
Hermione, realising that another person would make the temperature almost habitable, gave in quickly and the girls huddled together in the darkness. As Ginny twisted in the sheets, Hermione moved back cautiously to give her some more room. She supposed that a lot of girls her age would find sharing a bed hugely irritating, but to her, someone that had never had many friends, it was a chance to experience things she had never gotten to do when she was little.
Muggle primary had afforded her no opportunity for sleepovers, even though she had heard them talked of often. At the time Hermione had not felt envious at all, there hadn't been anyone there she had wanted to spend more time with, and frankly, she had liked the way she got to relax when she was back home. In the safety of her own living room, Hermione could talk about whatever she wanted, and was never afraid to say what she liked or didn't for fear of falling foul of whatever was currently in favour. But now, with real friends, Hermione was pleased to note how different it was. Sure, they all teased her for her love of books and her constant spouting of facts no one else cared about, but it never felt overly malicious.
Ginny peddled her legs under the blankets until she got comfortable, and when she stopped she stared into Hermione's face until they both adjusted to the dim light. "I'm so glad you are here."
Hermione shrugged. "I'm not so sure, it's great to be with you but… this place its-"
"Yep," Ginny interjected, "its rank and filled with misery but what is it you always say, 'misery loves company'? Imagine what it's been like with just Ron's whinging and scrubbing to fill my days." Hermione made a comforting noise and pushed her hands under the worn pillow - pillow, singular.
"So, tell me all about the plans for Bulgaria," Ginny prodded happily, "I can't believe your parents said yes!"
In spite of herself and her surroundings, Hermione grinned. "I don't know anything yet. I sent the dates to Viktor, but I don't know much else. It would be sort of weird for him to send an itinerary. It wasn't all that easy, my Dad was pretty close to saying no, but my Mum convinced him in the end," she replied.
Hermione had known Ginny would want to ask more questions, and though she had managed to give her friend prior warning of her trip, the letter she had sent before arriving at Grimmauld Place had been deliberately scant on information, partly because Hermione didn't know many details herself but also because a tiny part of her delighted in having something to tell.
"That would never happen in my house," Ginny mused, "more like the other way around. Dad's a soft touch, Mum on the other hand. Well, you know."
Hermione bit her lip. "I do know, and that's why… Listen, Ginny, please don't be angry with me."
"Angry at you? Whatever for?"
The bed creaked and Hermione felt Ginny shuffle closer. She was dreading this, she hated disappointing people, but there was nothing to be done.
"My Mum wanted me to go with someone, she said it was because the journey would be safer in a pair, but I think it was more so that I wasn't at Viktor's house by myself." Hermione paused and took a breath, "I asked Luna, and she's going to come." Ginny was silent and Hermione fought to keep her pitch even. "I really wanted you to come with us, but I knew there was no way we could convince your mum and I didn't want to get your hopes up."
Ginny made a muffled noise of frustration, and it took Hermione a moment to realise her friend was groaning into her pillow.
"Fuck!" Ginny exclaimed, the word splitting the silence of the room. She pounded a fist into the bed - that the dilapidated mattress could ill afford - before she sagged back down. "Not you, just… I'm so annoyed, I would have loved to go with you, but you're right, there is no way my mum would say yes, even if I'm not doing anything worthwhile here."
"Harry should be here soon," Hermione ventured in a quiet voice.
"I'm going to pretend you didn't mention that."
"Which is your prerogative," Hermione replied, happy to drop the subject. At another time, when Ginny was in a better mood she could always attempt to comfort her friend by reminding Ginny that she didn't have to travel anywhere to see the object of her affection - as Harry came to her home every summer.
Ginny sighed. "I'm glad your taking Luna, she will be thrilled and she will be an excellent buffer for your nerves. I'm just going to hate being left here."
"It will only be a few days, a week at most."
"It will feel like an eternity of deprivation," Ginny said dramatically. Hermione would have normally laughed at such theatrics but in this case, she was almost in agreement, she had not yet been at Grimmauld one full day and it had past by incredibly slowly. Instead, she braved the chill to stretch out her arm and pat Ginny's hand, hoping to give some small comfort.
"We'll write you letters," she promised.
"I know you will, it's just not going to be the same. It's not your fault but its so crap."
"I know," Hermione agreed.
"I suppose I don't feel so guilty about asking to be the little spoon now," Ginny said in a mock pouty tone which did make Hermione laugh. The girls moved around carefully, doing all they could not to dislodge the blanket. "Well this is cosy," Ginny observed as she pulled Hermione's arm around her tighter, "and I suppose it's good practice for you, what with you seeing Viktor so soon. Though I imagine, he would insist on being the big spoon, being the gentleman that he is."
Hermione instantly felt flushed and was glad of the darkness. "Oh please," she replied, hoping she didn't sound as breathless as she felt, "he's still living with his parents, and it's not like we will be sharing a room let alone a bed." Though even as she said it, Hermione couldn't help but imagine what would happen, just for a moment, before she quickly shut the door on those thoughts.
"If you say so," Ginny singsonged and Hermione was reminded of how her friend managed to wind up all of her brothers with what always appeared to be minimal effort.
"I do," Hermione replied curtly.
"Careful Hermione, I can hear your disappointment."
"You can go back to your own bed if you carry on," Hermione chastised as she shoved Ginny's shoulder.
"So violent, does Viktor know about this side of you?"
Hermione tried for an indignant reply, but she couldn't suppress a giggle, and soon both girls were laughing wildly. Their entertainment came to an abrupt stop a few moments later when they heard footsteps coming past their bedroom door. The steps seemed to pause for a moment, but then they were trailing off again, down the corridor and up the next flight of stairs.
"I suppose we better go to sleep," Ginny said, her voice much quieter now. "No doubt there will be an endless list of scintillating tasks for us to undertake tomorrow."
"No doubt," Hermione replied bitterly. She tried to push the thought of tomorrow out of her mind and instead focused on using her left foot to drag the right leg of her pyjama pants back down.
"Hermione?" Ginny murmured, as she shuffled back into Hermione's hold.
"Yes?"
"You better tell me everything when you get back… and I mean everything."
"I will," Hermione promised, though she felt awkward even at the thought of what that implied.
"Good," Ginny replied, "I love you, I would say sweet dreams but as we have already established, with your head full of Viktor-"
"Ginny!" Hermione bit out in warning.
"Oh all right then, spoilsport, good night."
Hermione smiled into her pillow. "Goodnight Ginny."
Viktor appeared in the well-hidden apparition point for the small central town near his home and was quietly pleased with himself for not swaying as he did so. Apparition had not come naturally to him, and he had fallen over the first hundred or so times he tried it. Landing on his feet had never been a strong suit of his. Viktor nodded in brief, polite greeting to the lady who arrived behind him and quickly made his way out of the quiet alley, and into the throng of people milling around in the twilight.
Viktor adjusted his coat, pulling the warm sheepskin lining around his neck as he glanced up at the stars. He loved this time of year. It was hot during the day and cool and crisp at night, and the good weather always had the same miraculous effect on the general populous; everyone seemed happier and more satisfied, able to smile at strangers as they completed mundane tasks or travelled to their places of work.
Viktor followed looping streams of orange and yellow lanterns that lined the streets around the bars and restaurants, not getting much attention as he went. He had lived in the same small town his entire life, and while the people were incredibly proud of their homegrown talent, they never treated him like a star. Instead, they seemed to take a perverse sort of glee in not noticing him. He had often heard a shopkeeper or bar owner say 'oh that's just Viktor' to an interested outsider, wanting to stress how normal they found it all, arguably to make themselves seem superior but for whatever reason, Viktor was glad of it.
Viktor was glad of the boots he had decided on as kept a quick pace through the cobbled street, and now, totally alone with his thoughts for the first time all day he was free to imagine a time - thankfully very soon - when he might not be making a solitary journey.
Filip and Mikhail were already there when Viktor finally arrived at the pre-agreed upon bar, once again proving the age-old argument that in the case of meeting up with a group the person that lived the closest was invariably the last to arrive. His friends had opted to sit outside, which Viktor was glad of, on a small wooden table that let them watch the comings and goings around them. Viktor waved as he approached and rushed into the outdoor area lit by more modest versions of the lanterns from the main street, feeling the subtle warming charms against his cheeks as he stepped over the perimeter.
Filip stood up and pulled him into a hug while Mikhail punched him on the back and handed him a butterbeer. Viktor lowered himself onto the free chair and the three friends delighted in catching up on their recent comings and goings. It was an adjustment, not seeing each other every day like they had for the last seven years, but it hadn't diminished their relationship at all.
After Mikhail finished outlining the early plan for his full-time Charms Mastery, now that a professor had accepted him, he turned to Viktor, "So, what's new with you? Have you got any further with sourcing a flat? How is training?"
Viktor grinned betraying a lot of how he felt. "Training is going well, in the beginning it was hard, so many new things to learn but it's starting to pay off. The team feels more cohesive, there is an anticipation in our play that wasn't there before and…" Viktor trailed off for a moment and his friends exchanged a look. "I could talk more about it, I would love to at some point but… two days ago I found out that Hermione's coming here, to Bulgaria, and I can't think of anything else."
Viktor didn't have to wait long for a reaction from his friends. Filip whooped loudly, drawing the curious attention of some nearby tables and Mikhail begrudgingly handed their momentarily obnoxious friend a small wad of notes.
"Betting against me?" Viktor asked, but it was clear he was without rebuke. Mikhail had been adamant that Hermione would never be able to convince her parents to come.
"Never," Mikhail replied with a smile, "just a friendly wager."
Mikhail got the attention of a barman to order more drinks as Filip excitedly listed off ideas of what they could do during Hermione's trip. Viktor tried not to look like he was taking too many mental notes, but it was apparently clear he needed help when Mikhail smirked at him. "Surely you're not worried?" he asked incredulously. "If Hermione is coming she's still interested."
"Or she could just want to see Bulgaria," Viktor hedged, and Filip snorted.
"Yes because all British school girls dream of coming to a rural town they've never heard of for their holidays," he said sarcastically.
Mikhail eyed Viktor appraisingly before handing over a fresh drink. "I will never understand how you get so flustered around this one girl. Hermione is great but it's not like she's the only girl you have ever spoken to, and I would hardly describe her as intimidating."
"Can't you?" Viktor replied with a smirk of his own, "I forgot to mention, Luna's coming."
Mikhail's hand briefly tightened on the neck of his bottle - a reaction so small Viktor would never have noticed if he wasn't looking for it - and he suddenly became incredibly interested in a patch of condensation on the table. Filip rolled his eyes at their usually stoic friend's behaviour. "Really?" he pressed, "I hadn't been aware you were inviting all of the girls from Hogwarts School. Did you ask anyone for me?"
"I wasn't, and I didn't. Hermione asked if she could bring Luna along and I didn't see that it would be a problem. Her parents thought it would be safer for her to travel with a friend," Viktor explained.
Filip laughed into his drink. "You mean they thought their daughter needed a chaperone to visit 'international quidditch star' Viktor Krum?"
"Her virtue is safe with me," Viktor protested as he shifted in his seat.
"Sure it is Viktor, sure it is."
"Can we talk about something else?" Viktor pleaded. He really didn't need any excuse to think about Hermione in that way, but he wasn't lying, she was safe with him. Not to mention his mother would have forty fits if she thought anything like that was going on under her roof.
"Of course," Filip agreed, "what are we going to do with Hermione while she's here?"
"We?"
Filip nodded aggressively, "Yes we. I am seeing her right? I know she's here for you but, well, I miss her too. Not in the same way you do but-"
"Yes," Viktor interjected to cut Filip off, "I have a few ideas, but I want to try something… Muggle," he admitted a little sheepishly.
"Muggle? Like what?"
Viktor sighed, "I have no idea, I need your help."
Filip grinned, "Of course you do."
On the morning of her first full day at Grimmauld Place, Hermione sat in the kitchen to eat breakfast and was assigned her very own cleaning duty, thus enabling her to join the rest of the underage Weasley children in whatever circle of hell this was. While the chorus of groans and protests rang out amongst the porridge bowls, Hermione tried to keep calm, she had an out after all. Though, she was especially annoyed to discover she had been called away from her own family to tidy up a neglected townhouse.
Moans about the cleaning up turned into further exasperation as Molly told informed them there was going to be an Order meeting later that night after they had all gone to bed. Again, Hermione kept herself in check, and while she couldn't help but complain, she did so less than the rest. She had stopped expecting to be told pertinent information long ago, and the adults keeping stuff from them wasn't unexpected. Additionally, she was currently hiding - or rather not disclosing - her onward journey from Mrs Weasley and as such, Hermione decided it was wisest to keep a low profile and do what she was asked to with as much grace as possible.
Following a lengthy deliberation over how to effectively separate the twins, Mrs Weasley sent Hermione and Ginny to the Black family library, with a smile that told Hermione the matriarch thought she was doing her a favour. Hermione had to concede - if only non verbally - that it was the best piece of fruit in the rotten barrel until she was told she couldn't actually touch any of the books.
"It's just this house dear," Mrs Weasley had said, "we suspect many of them are likely to be cursed."
Great, just great.
Hermione and Ginny made their way into the library, grumbling as they went, and stood at the furthermost wall. They had a list of jobs from Molly for that particular room and they had decided to tackle the tasks grossest first. As such, they were beginning with the skirting boards and attempting to chase out whatever insect that appeared to have colonised there.
They were just about to open the only book they were permitted to touch today, a battered edition of housecleaning spells, when they heard voices. Ginny eyed Hermione for a long moment and then tilted her head in the direction of the muffled sound. Hermione agreed, and walking quietly the girls moved past a particularly rusty looking stack, revealing Sirius and Remus sitting in a worn pair of armchairs in front of an unlit fire.
Hermione knew by now that the two men had been friends while they were at school and at one point closer than brothers. However, if she hadn't known it she would never have believed it to look at them. Both Sirius and Remus seemed to be drowning in their own pain, not that it stopped them from noticing each others, they just didn't seem particularly adept in solving it.
Sirius had a bottle in his hand that was clearly alcohol, and he was drinking straight from the neck without bothering to use a glass in between, despite the early hour. Hermione recognised the torn label as Firewhiskey from having seen it behind the bar at the Three Broomsticks. The girls shuffled indecisively as Remus looked at his friend with poorly concealed exasperation that Sirius was purposefully ignoring.
"I'm sorry," Hermione stumbled out, awkwardly announcing their presence. She had no interest in getting on the wrong side of Sirius after the day before, and she did not want him to suspect they were eavesdropping. "Molly sent us in here… to clean, we didn't realise you were…. We'll just be going."
Hermione gripped Ginny's wrist and made to turn around; they could ask Molly for a different job, they could come back here when Sirius retreated to wherever he normally hid for most of his time. Hermione didn't think Mrs Weasley would mind, she seemed to avoid Sirius' presence more than anyone else currently in residence.
"Packing?"
Sirius' voice - loud and cold in the tired old room - pierced the air behind them and Hermione was unsurprised by the nasty glint in his eyes when she spun back to face him. "Pardon?"
"I understand you aren't staying with us very long… much more pressing places to be."
"Pads," Remus chastised, but to no effect, Sirius leant forward in his battered seat.
"I hear Eastern Europe is beautiful at this time of year."
Hermione felt herself stiffen in shock. "How did…"
"Sorry, Hermione," Ginny said quietly, "Fred got a hold of your last letter and you know what the twins are like, everyone knows."
Hermione's face must have reflected the embarrassment she felt as Ginny slid closer to her and dropped her voice so their audience couldn't hear. "Don't worry, there wasn't any teasing, I think the boys are too awed for that. But… you might want to watch out for Mum, I don't think she was all that happy."
Hermione swallowed and tried not to fidget, that was an unexpected development. Still, there was nothing she could do about it now and, she told herself, Molly didn't have any real power over whether she could go or not. Her own mother and father had agreed and by the time she left Hermione would have put in a week of helping out for no reward, and would no doubt resume as soon as she returned. They had no say in her summer, whatever she chose to do with it, or wherever she decided to spend it.
Clenching one hand into a fist, Hermione forced herself met Sirius' eyes with what she hoped was an unaffected gaze. God only knew why he had it in for her, but frankly, he could stick it. She had rescued the man from a certain, unjust, and untimely death, and she was tired of his attitude.
"Yes, I will be travelling to Bulgaria next week, not that its any business of yours."
"Easy there kitten," Sirius shot back but the dark edge had gone from his voice, he appeared to be almost smiling at her now.
"Don't you kitten me, Sirius Black," Hermione snapped and turned on her heel to make a hasty retreat. As she heard Ginny scurry to catch up she thought to herself that both her and Sirius had now each had a turn to stomp off dramatically. She could own that the childish behaviour was barely acceptable in someone of her own age, so who knew what it said about Sirius.
Hermione had just got to sanctuary promised by the open library door when Ginny pulled her back before she could reach the corridor. Hermione made to protest but Ginny placed a finger over her lips and in the sudden silence she could hear the conversation continuing behind them.
"Must you wind her up? I realise you are scrambling for something to do, but tormenting children seems a bit harsh. She's a good girl, Sirius," Remus said, and Hermione was embarrassed by how much those words pleased her, especially coming from a former teacher.
"Of course you like her, I bet she was a right little teacher's pet while you were there." That assessment, although not surprising given its source, pleased Hermione much less and she was happy to hear Remus scoff.
"She's just too easy, I can't help myself," Sirius admitted after an uncomfortable silence.
"You'll be the death of me."
"You can't blame me, surely? It's been a long time since I've had anyone other than the voices in my head to fight with and honestly, those guys get repetitive after twelve years stuck in a cell. The rest of you treat me like I'm on the verge of a significant mental collapse. At least the girl calls me on my shit."
"We all call you on it, Sirius, you just don't listen, you never have."
"Whatever you need to tell yourself Moony."
Ginny and Hermione look at each other worriedly, before heading to the kitchen to be redeployed.
Later that day Hermione was unenthusiastically sweeping a high ceiling with a magically extended broom when she had her first sighting of the twins, well, one of them since breakfast, or, more importantly, since Ginny's revelation about her letter. Hermione narrowed her eyes and briefly thought about turning her cleaning instrument into a weapon until she thought better of it.
"Fred," she called out. The twin in question took one look at her stony countenance and increased his pace. "No you don't, come back here Fred Weasley."
Not one for being ignored, Hermione chased after Fred down the dingy corridor and decided to utilise the element of surprise and jumped on his back. However, as this was the first time in her memory that she had ever even attempted to launch herself at and onto another human, she miscalculated the speed and distance required and rather than stopping Fred in his tracks they both fell to the floor.
"What the bloody hell is up with you Granger?" Fred shouted as he rubbed his knee before backing himself against the hall wall.
"Care to tell me why the whole house seems to know about my love life, Freddy."
Fred sagged. "Oh, that's what this is about? For a blissful moment I thought one of my favourite fantasies was going to play out in real life."
Hermione pulled herself up to kneel and rubbed her elbow that had collided with the hard wooden floor. "What are you on about Fred?"
He grinned toothily at her, "You, me, a hallway that hasn't seen a cleaning charm in over a decade, ahhh sweet romance."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Be serious for a moment, I had to endure some pretty barbed mocking from Sirius Black of all people this morning, I should think you could manage an apology."
Fred got to his feet and proffered his arm to Hermione who warily accepted his help. "I don't see why we need to say sorry, unless you're put out that you missed the dramatic reading of your letter, George did a voice and everything it was fantastic."
Hermione huffed and made a futile attempt at dusting off her jeans. "I don't like people knowing my business."
Fred shrugged, entirely unconcerned. "It's not like it was going to stay quiet for long. Hermione, your family, you should know by now that everything is our business and you will be mocked accordingly. Also, where's your sense of charity? There is less than nothing going on here Granger, we need the entertainment."
"Fine," Hermione gritted out, giving up her anger and picking up her broom again, "It's not as if I could have expected better."
Fred smiled, "Before I leave your wonderful, dusty presence I wanted to check something, have you spoken to my brother about you going?"
Hermione tilted her head to the side, "Not yet, why?"
"Ronniekins didn't seem to enjoy it much," Fred reported with his familiar air of mischief, "he missed the comedy value entirely I would say."
Hermione waited for Fred to disappear from view before she vented her frustrations on the ceiling, only to end up with a hair full of dirt for her trouble. She should have expected that the twins would be unrepentant, but it didn't mean she had to like it.
If she was honest with herself, Hermione knew she deliberately hadn't raised the trip with Ron. If the previous year had taught her anything, it was that their friendship had limited strength, and that limit seemed to be as soon as the world around them deviated in any way from the status quo. Ron had not covered himself in glory when it came to Viktor and it made Hermione uneasy, she didn't know how to approach this situation. Ron was likely to become upset if she didn't speak to him about it, he didn't like to be the last to know anything, but at the same time, she didn't want to feel like she was rubbing it in.
Hermione took one last look at her broom and decided to give it up as a bad job. When cleaning almost seemed like a pleasant alternative to speaking to her friend she knew she was avoiding the issue, and not just Viktor, she was acutely aware that neither of them had mentioned Harry since her arrival and more than anything she needed some of Ron's no-nonsense reasoning to assuage some of her guilt.
Hermione eventually found Ron, her friend was a floor above where she had been stationed, half-heartedly trying to remove a trail of Ivy that had somehow started growing within the walls of the house. Hermione passed him the tea that she managed to make in the kitchen, and the two of them sat on the floor, looking out of one of the smeared windows.
Hermione's fingers tapped against the outside or her mug, and she leant her head back against the cold stone wall. "Ron, have you spoken to Harry at all since we left the Express? I won't be cross or tell on you if you went against Dumbledore's instructions. I just want to know."
Hermione had been holding on to some small hope that Ron had flouted the rules to stay in contact with their friend. She had speculated that the twins might have had some way to communicate in the magical world that would have not required owls, and as such a better chance of remaining undetected.
Ron shrugged a little shamefaced, "I haven't sent anything, I wanted to but I was worried he might end up in more trouble."
Hermione nodded. "I'm worried. Harry was… the events of last year are going to affect him for a long time and I can't help but think that not having any contact from the wizarding world for months on end is going to make it worse."
Ron set his cup down and rubbed at his face, his pale skin quickly turning pink. "I know, but what can we do? We're stuck here, under almost more supervision than we would have a school."
"Maybe we could speak to Sirius?"
Hermione couldn't leave it, while in the Muggle world she had no one she could talk to about it, no one with any ability to do anything in any case.
"Mione, I'm not sure that's such a good idea," Ron replied, "he's… well, he's not in good shape. Ginny said that you've had a few run-ins with him, but honestly it's the tip of the iceberg. Despite him being here all of the time we hardly ever see him, and when he is around its like he could fly off the handle at any moment."
You're telling me.
"I know," Hermione agreed, and she did. She had briefly considered asking Professor Lupin but she suspected that he would just repeat what Dumbledore had said. Sirius, on the other hand, didn't seem like he was overly concerned about who had given what order. "But he's still Harry's Godfather, that must count for something."
"Of course, but if you must speak to him don't let my Mum find out, and try and catch him in one of his rare good moods."
"I'll do that."
There was silence as they drank their teas and Hermione stared out of the window again until she heard Ron awkwardly clear his throat. "So, you're going to Bulgaria?"
"Yes, I am," Hermione confirmed, "next week, Luna is coming and I will be there for a few days."
"To see him?" He asked quietly.
"Would I go for any other reason?"
"No, no I suppose not."
"Ron?"
"Yeah?"
"Nevermind."
A/N: Hey lovelies, sorry for the delay with this chapter, I have been waylaid with prep for Nautical Paramour's Fenrir February. Do not despair, Hermione will be in Bulgaria in the next update.