The Sugar Quill
Author: InsidesOfAPumpkinHead  Story: Telling Viktor  Chapter: Default
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Telling Viktor

Telling Viktor

Summary: Sequel to “Don’t Be Ridiculous”. After finally acting on her feelings for Ron, it’s time for Hermione to break the news to Viktor.

Disclaimer: Ha ha ha ha ha… I’m sorry, I was just laughing at the fact that anyone would think that I own these characters… I’m sorry, do I have ‘Big British Genius’ stamped on my forehead? No, no I don’t. Nor do I own anything that has to do with Harry Potter.

Hermione had never been happier. Other than her knowledge of the impending war against Voldemort, it was all Hermione could do to stop herself from skipping merrily around the Burrow, and singing, “I’m So Happy Ron Finally Kissed Me and Is No Longer the Hugest Prat on Earth!” But she wouldn’t, because that wouldn’t be a Hermione thing to do, so she contented herself with merely grasping Ron’s hand under the table at dinner, and giggling girlishly when no one was around.

3 days after coming to the Burrow, Hermionereceived a letter. From Viktor. She was re-revising her Transfiguration essay when an owl flew through Ginny’s bedroom window.

Hermione,

I have been extremely worried since you left. What was it that was so urgent? Receiving no letter from you, I am only left to assume the worst… Please write back soon, I have not been able to concentrate.

Love,

Viktor.

Hermione had never been madder at herself. How could she have forgotten to let Viktor know she was all right? Of course, she had been pre-occupied with other…things, but she had always thought herself to be a considerate person, and now she had left Viktor to worry. She picked up a quill to write a response.

Viktor,

I’m so sorry. I should have written you sooner. The urgent thing turned out to be Ron worrying about vampire attacks near Bulgaria. I’m afraid I won’t be able to come back to Bulgaria this summer as I have promised Ron I would stay here. Sorry again…

Hermione.

Hermione sent the owl out the window, feeling a little bit relieved, although not much. She realized that she purposefully hadn’t signed ‘Love, Hermione’.  During that time in Bulgaria, Hermione had noticed that Viktor had been trying to get closer to her. He would brush her hand with his on purpose, and play with her hair (although he stopped that after an unfortunate incident where her bushy hair had swallowed up his hand, and it had to be removed by magic). He had even tried to kiss her once.  Hermione had caught on to his intentions, and turned her head just in time so that Viktor just got her on the cheek. While in Bulgaria, she had tried to let him down gently.  It had been very difficult considering that every time they had been alone and she was just about to tell him that she didn’t ‘feel that way’, one of Viktor’s relatives would burst into the room and start yelling in Bulgarian about the unfairness of British Quidditch referees (Viktor translated the yelling for Hermione later, minus the cursing).

Sure, Hermione liked Viktor, but just as a friend. The hard part was telling him that without hurting his feelings. After a few minutes’ deliberation, Hermione decided that she would tell Viktor about her and Ron. She resolved to tell him to his face instead of in a letter, for that wouldn’t be a Hermione thing to do.

Hermione closed her books, and went down the stairs to ask Mrs. Weasley if she had any of the Floo powder that allows you to stick just your head in the fire and be able to talk to people in front of other fireplaces.

She had almost made it down the stairs when she felt something grab her foot and she shrieked. She looked down to see a chuckling Ron, obviously satisfied with Hermione’s reaction.

“Ron! What did you do that for?” she asked him, hopping off the last two stairs and standing in front of him.

“You just looked so lost in thought; I had to snap you out of it. If you think much more your head will likely explode,” he answered, raking his right hand through his hair, and messing it up.

His hair looks awfully cute when it’s all messy like that’ Hermione thought.

Without realizing it, Hermione reached her hand up and attempted to flatten Ron’s hair for him. Ron looked a little surprised, then caught Hermione’s outstretched wrist with his hand.

“It’s a lost cause, Hermione.” Ron said would-be-seriously.

“Hmm, Ron, I’m on a mission, I can’t get distracted,” said Hermione even though she was stepping closer to him.

Y’know,” said Ron, “The rest of the family and Harry are all outside watching the neighbours try to fend off an army of flying toasters they accidentally transfigured. I’m just in here getting binoculars, and the way I see it, it’s so entertaining, they won’t even notice I’m gone.” He brought her hand down and let it rest on his shoulder.

Hermione didn’t need telling twice. She brought her other hand up behind Ron’s neck and pulled his face down to hers to kiss him. He responded eagerly. Obviously, Ron was as desperate to kiss Hermione again as she was to kiss him. Hermione leaned back against the banister, and Ron followed. They continued like this for quite some time, when Hermione finally came to her senses and reluctantly pulled back, determining that she had to get her situation with Viktor resolved before she lost her nerve.

“What’s wrong?” Ron asked Hermione breathlessly.

“I told you, Ron,” said Hermione straightening his rather disheveled shirt, “I’m on a mission.”

“To do what, exactly?” inquired Ron.

“I’ve got to talk to Viktor,” said Hermione. Though the second it came out of her mouth, she wished she could take it back, seeing the look on Ron’s face.

“Oh,” said Ron, abruptly letting go of Hermione and stiffening, “I see. Have fun then.”

Ron turned around and began to walk slowly towards the back door.

“Ron,” said Hermione hastily, “I’m going to tell him about us.”

Ron visibly relaxed, and he stopped and turned around.

“Have fun then,” said Ron, trying not to smile, “Wait, you’re not going back to Bulgaria, are you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ron, of course not. I was actually looking for your mother to ask her for some head-only Floo powder,” said Hermione.

Ahh, I see,” said Ron, again looking happier, “I know where that stuff is. I’ll show you.”

Ron led Hermione to the kitchen, and opened one of the higher up cupboards.

“There it is,” he said, pointing to a green pot.

Hermione approached the cupboard and reached upwards.

“I can’t get it,” said Hermione standing on her toes and reaching up her full extent.

“I’ll help you then,” said Ron mischievously.

He walked up behind her, and standing as close as possible, Ron reached a hand up, and effortlessly plucked the pot from the top shelf, bringing it down more slowly than was necessary. Hermione knew what Ron was trying to do, but she didn’t mind. She turned around and quickly kissed him and said ‘thank you’, as she took the pot from his hand and scurried out of the kitchen.

“Hermione, wait!” called Ron, “I’ve got to show you how to use it!”

“I can handle it!” Hermione called over her shoulder. Ron was so easy to tease.

Hermione entered the living room, and sat down in front of the hearth. What was she going to say to Viktor exactly? Hermione hadn’t thought of that until now. Counting on her quick thinking, Hermione scattered some powder from the green pot into the fire, hoping she would think of something when she saw Viktor’s face.

“Krum residence, Bulgaria,” she told the fire.

Hermione poked her head into the now green-glowing fire, and saw a whoosh of fireplace grates rush past her face. Then, the face of Kitka, Viktor’s house-maid, appeared before her.

“Herm-ion-nunny! How lovely to see you again!”

“It’s nice to see you too, Kitka. May I please speak to Viktor?”

“Of course you can, he’ll be relieved to see you, he vos extremely vorried.”

Kitka got up and fled the room to get Viktor. Hermione saw Viktor arrive in the doorway a few seconds later. He hurried over to the hearth and knelt down in front of it.

“Herm-own-ninny! I vos so worried!” cried Krum, looking as if he would burst with happiness.

“I know, Viktor, and I’m really sorry, but I’ve got something to tell you. Now I want to get it all out, so please don’t interrupt,” said Hermione quickly.

Krum nodded.

“Ok, now you may or may not have had some expectations when I agreed to visit you in Bulgaria. Romantic expectations, I mean. Now, I’m really flattered that you would feel that way about me, even when you could have any girl you wanted. I’m afraid I don’t feel the same way though. You see, I haven’t known you for very long, and well, I’m with someone now, that I’ve known for four years, and—well--I hope you find someone, Viktor, I really do. But I’m afraid it won’t be me,” said Hermione softly.

“So Rita Skeeter vos not lying, then,” muttered Krum.

“What—you think… Me… and Harry?” said Hermione, “No, I’ve told you, we’re just friends… It’s Ron actually.” Hermione blushed a little.

Krum’s facial expression changed from quiet anger to disbelief.

“But, you and the red-haired one? You alvays fight,” said Krum.

“No we don’t,” said Hermione a little more defensively that she meant to.

“I see,” said Krum, “Vell, I want you to be happy, Herm-own-ninny. But know that I’ll be here for you if you need me.”

“Thank you, Viktor,” said Hermione.

Vell, I’ve got to get back to Quidditch practice. Herm-own-ninny… Do keep in touch,” said Viktor.

Hermione nodded, “I’ll write you soon, I promise,” she said.

Krum nodded. He then got up and said, “Good-bye, Herm-own-ninny.”

“Bye, Viktor,” said Hermione as she withdrew her head from the fire.

‘He took that better than I had expected,’ thought Hermione. She wasn’t disappointed, though. Hermione’s feeling of intense happiness returned as the guilt of stringing Viktor along was lifted. She got up quickly, and picked up the green pot to take back to the kitchen.

Hermione was dragging a chair over to the counter to step on to reach the top cupboard when she thought of something. She out back the chair and carried the pot over to the back door and popped her head out into the garden where she observed that the neighbours, in fact, had not yet accomplished the task of ridding the area of toasters.

“Ron!” Hermione called gently.

Ron was laughing heartily at the sight of one of the neighbours attempting to fling bread at the toasters, as if feeding them would make them go away.  He turned around and said, “Yes?”

“I need your help with putting this pot back!” she said, gesturing to the pot in her hand.

Ron jumped up from the picnic table immediately, receiving strange looks from his family. He walked with all the dignity he had left over to the back door

“I knew you would,” he said quietly as he passed Hermione on his way in.

Hermione giggled and followed him inside, shutting the door behind her. She set the pot down on the counter. Needless to say, the pot stayed there for quite some time before getting put back—on the wrong shelf. It seemed as though Hermione was OK with getting distracted after her mission.

//
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