Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to JK Rowling. This idea simply popped up into my head, and it is only my take on what might've happened. None of the characters are my own, none of the spells, etc.

A/N: AU. Hermione and Ron got separated from Harry during their escape from Malfoy Manor. All three of them are continuing their mission, while trying to find each other. Hermione and Ron were recaptured, and that is where my story starts from. My concept of everything happening is still fairly fresh, and it will grow to be more elaborate as time and the story progresses. As always, reviews are encouraged. You don't have to say you loved it - if you hate it, let me know. Just please make all criticism constructive. I am here for the same reason as everyone else - to improve my writing and read great stories. Also, please bear with me through all of the rough edges and such. I'm new to the fanfic world, I'm trying to keep everything plausible, and keep everybody in character as much as possible, but as I am not JKR, clearly that's impossible. I just hope you have the patience to grow with me as a reader as I grow as a writer.

xoxo, Erin.

'Destiny is not a choice, it is a chance.
It is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved.' - William Jennings Bryan

Hermione stood silently in front of her captor. Her eyes stared at the wooden floorboards, and she averted meeting the cold dark eyes that peered at her with distaste and hatred.

"It is not wise for you to not speak," the voice belonging to her captor whispered into her ear. The hushed tone sent chills down her spine. She slowly lifted her head, sticking her chin up in defiance, and met the eyes staring at her with equal disgust.

"I will never tell you anything. You cannot make me," Hermione spat at her captor, her chocolate brown eyes filled with a fiery hatred. Her captor roughened the grip on her arm, causing her lip to quiver slightly. She quickly snapped out of it, and the rebellious look appeared on her face again as she continued to defy her assailant. Her eyes flashed over to Ron, who was currently near unconsciousness and being roughly shoved onto the ground by a Snatcher.

The Snatcher who was holding her looked over his shoulder, being sure to tighten his grip on her even more before doing so, and noted where her gaze was directed. "Oi, what do ya say we use the ginger as a punching bag and for target practice?" he loudly suggested to his colleagues with a devilish grin and soft chuckle. The howls of agreement from the others filled the air.

"So what's it gonna be, girly?" the Snatcher holding her growled into her ear, roughly dragging her to the center of the room. "You gonna talk, or watch your boyfriend die?"

"He's not my boyfriend…" Hermione quietly mumbled, trying to jerk her arm away.

"Well then it won't matter if we kill him or not!" the second Snatcher, the one holding Ron, declared, laughing loudly as he cast a body-bind hex on her, which paralyzed her and forced her to look forwards. Hermione had to remain strong. She and Ron had both known what they were getting themselves into, and they had both been prepared to sacrifice themselves for the greater good.

"Bring the ginger o'er," the first Snatcher said, nodding at the second Snatcher as he watched Hermione try to fight to hex. Her eyes told him that she was strenuously trying to fight off the hex, to no avail.

"Sorry about this, princess," the second Snatcher said with a smirk as he punched Ron squarely in the face, eliciting a gasp from Hermione. She promptly closed her eyes to avoid seeing any more, but not before a tear fell from her watery chocolate brown eyes.

"Open your eyes," a third voice said from behind her, resulting in another gasp from Hermione, this one from being caught off guard. He roughly jerked her hair and held his wand at her neck. Hermione's eyes flashed open, and horrendous sights of Ron's limp body being kicked about and being tortured, with his fear-filled blue eyes connecting to her chocolate brown ones.

"I'm sorry," she mouthed. Sorry would never suffice. She was single-handedly responsible for this, and they had both agreed to do whatever they had to do. That included not cracking if they were tortured for information. Hopefully Ron would be either dead soon, and out of pain, or they would give up, and move on to her. She was hoping for the second option.

"Leave him alone, please!" Hermione shrieked, whimpering as her hair was pulled again.

"What's that?" the second Snatcher said. "She said to leave her boyfriend alone."

"He's not my boyfriend," Hermione said quietly.

"I heard," the first Snatcher grumbled, a look in his eyes that rivaled any evil she had encountered in her lifetime. "We will, if you tell us what we need to know."

"Please, don't hurt him," Hermione pleaded, her vision becoming blurred by tears.

"You're too pretty to hurt," the third Snatcher said, stroking her chin with his long, dirty index finger as he stood behind her and whispered into her ear. "Think about it o'er the night, and why don't you heal your boyfriend. Talk to us in the morning."

The body-bind hex was lifted and she was pulled along the ground before being shoved down a set of wooden stairs and into what she presumed to be a dark cellar. She heard the thud of what she knew to be Ron's body moments later.

Mustering all of her strength, Hermione got a firm hold on him, and slowly dragged him to the corner of the cellar. It took her awhile, as her frame was much more petite than his. With an exhausted sigh, she collapsed in the corner, and lifted his head, setting it in her lap.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, kissing his forehead lightly. She brushed his hair out of his eyes as she made note of the fact that he was now unconscious. "What did they do to you?" His face was bloody and bruised, matching the rest of his scathed body.

"Her-my-nee," Ron slowly mumbled, wincing at the pain in his rib.

"Shh, don't speak, you'll wear yourself out," Hermione told him, wiping the falling tears from her face. "We both knew something like this was almost inevitable. It was going to happen sooner or later. But don't worry. I'll bet Harry comes crashing through the door any moment to save us from yet another catastrophe."

This elicited a pained laugh from Ron and Hermione gently laid his head on the dirt floor.

"Are you bleeding anywhere?" Hermione asked, kneeling beside him and carefully unbuttoning his shirt to examine the damage. Her question was answered when she saw a wound on his hip that was still gushing with blood. Her intuitive nature kicked in, and quickly tied his shirt around him, pulling it taut. She continued pulling to make sure it was as tight as humanly possible.

"How do you feel?" Hermione inquired softly, stroking his cheek gently. "You were so brave. I should have done something to save you."

"I'm…fine," Ron groaned, slowly grasping her free hand in his and squeezing it. "It wasn't your fault. I'll be back on my feet in no time."

"It is my fault, Ron, it is!" Hermione cried out before she kissed him.

"Stop it," Ron growled, narrowing his eyes. His expression softened when he saw the look of hurt on her face. "Don't blame yourself for this. You were right - we both knew what we were going to get into. I think I can already feel myself healing." He demonstrated by slowly sitting up, but unsuccessfully hiding his grimace.

"Let me help you," Hermione said, supporting him as she helped prop him up against the corner.

"Thanks," he said quietly, laying his head against the wall and closing his eyes.

"Anytime," Hermione whispered, sitting down next to him, and hesitantly laying her head on his shoulder. He looked so frail, she was worried she would hurt him. He reassured her she wouldn't when he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer to him.

"I love you, Hermione," he said as she opened his eyes and looked at her. He kissed the top of her head and buried his face in her hair.

"I love you too," she responded, taking his other hand in both of hers and gripping it tightly. "Sleep peacefully. It could be our last night together. I think they're taking me tomorrow for information. If I don't give it to them, they're going to kill you, or torture you."

"I can handle it, as long as your safe," Ron murmured, stroking her hand. "I don't think they fell for the whole 'He's not my boyfriend' thing though, love." He chuckled lightly into her hair, and Hermione sighed with content, or as close to content as one could feel after experiencing what she had just experienced.

"They didn't, did they?" Hermione asked, unable to stop the small smile she'd been holding in from spreading across her face. "Let's just enjoy this night, and agree that we will do whatever we need to do to get ourselves safe, including not going back to save the other. We both know that if we were in the position of the dying, we'd want the other safe."

Ron nodded in agreement. "I'll agree to try my best to go along with those terms, but unfortunately, I can't promise that I won't go back for you."

Hermione sighed, this time out of sadness and slight frustration. "I want you to be safe!" she protested, closing her eyes. "That's all."

"We'll both agree to try our best to follow the terms then," Ron concluded as he rocked back and forth slowly, holding her in his arms.

"Fine, deal," Hermione relented, somewhat irked that he'd won.

"Good," he said, kissing the top of her head. "Now sleep. We'll never be in a cellar as nice as this again. I mean, they really went all out with the dirt floors, and one candle."

Hermione chuckled as she buried her face in his chest. "It amazes me how you can always find the humor in something," she whispered before giving into the exhaustion that was begging to overtake her body.

The Next Morning

"Hermione," Ron whispered frantically, shaking her lightly. "Hermione, I heard them. I think they're coming."

Hermione groggily raised her head before the realization dawned on her. "It's alright," she swore, more so trying to convince herself than anything else. She scooted back so she could look at him, or try to, as there was one candle in the room, and it was hanging right by the door. "How is your rib?"

"Sore," Ron admitted, his pale features pulling into a frown.

"Oi, you and your loverboy need to get your asses upstairs!" the third Snatcher commanded, grabbing Hermione by her hair and dragging her off. Hermione kicked and fought as best she could, desperately looking at Ron as she tried to escape his grasps.

Ron realized he may have to hurt Hermione to save her, and in a moment of rash bravery or stupidity, he leaped and ignored his throbbing midsection, and swung a punch at the back of the Snatcher's head. Hermione was being dragged, and therefore, was out of range for his punch, which is what he used as the determining argument when he had debated with himself for half a second.

"What the hell?" the Snatcher muttered as he released Hermione's hair. Ron quickly grabbed her and pushed her back before he sprang again, knocking the Snatcher unconscious.

"They'll be wondering where he is soon," Ron said, dragging the Snatcher out of vision of the stairwell and taking the wand from the Snatcher. "Press yourself up against the wall, when the next Snatcher comes, I'm going to knock that one out, if things start going bad, run upstairs, catch the other one off guard, and save yourself." Ron handed Hermione the wand after he demobilized the third Snatcher, and he flattened himself against the wall right by the last step.

Hermione grimly nodded, and did the same right behind him. She was sure her heartbeat would give them away, or maybe their loud, hollow breaths, as she heard the second Snatcher call out for the third, and start making his way down the steps. With each creak of the rusty wooden steps, Hermione's nerves grew.

Before Hermione's brain even had time to register what was happening, the second Snatcher was down on the ground and unconscious. "Oh my God, Ron, you were amazing!" Hermione whispered as she flung her arms around him. She drew in a ragged breath as she clung to him.

"Thanks," he said, rather proud of himself. He was even prouder that he had succeeded with what he assumed was a broken rib. He pulled the second Snatcher's body out of the ray of light from upstairs, took his wand, and cued Hermione to demobilize him.

"This is the last one. I reckon he'll fight back and be more wary. He was the toughest of the three," Ron said as he braced himself for the third and final obstacle standing between them and safety.

"He's coming," Ron muttered, raising his wand. This time, he and Hermione had placed themselves on opposite sides of the stairwell. If both of them shot spells, he was praying they both hit their mark, which would be the best bet of knocking him out.

"Stupefy!" Hermione swiftly shouted, the wand pointed at the first Snatcher.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Ron yelled at the same time.

Ron didn't breathe until the first Snatcher hit the ground with a thud. "We need to erase their memories," Hermione said, pointing her wand at the Snatchers one by one. "Obliviate."

"Let's go," Hermione said, grabbing the wand off the first Snatcher. "It's always good to have an extra when you're on the run," she added, addressing the look Ron was giving her.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him the stairs behind her as they made a break for it. "Run!" he shouted.

"We're wizards!" Hermione screamed at him. She would've hit him, but he was injured, and she had just apparated them to a large forest in Ireland.

They both collapsed onto the ground, breathing in deep breaths as they attempted to regain a steady heartbeat. "Ron," Hermione started saying as she rolled over to look at him. "Let me…check heal wound…" She crawled over to him and placed the tip of her wand on his abdomen before uttering the incantation that caused him to cry out in pain, but also healed his broken rib. "I don't have any Dittany, so the best I can do at the moment is healing the open wounds the muggle way."

It was the first time they'd seen each in daylight without having their minds preoccupied on escape. Ron looked worse than Hermione had been able to tell the previous night. His skin was mostly a bluish-purple color, and he was covered in dried blood in multiple places.

Ron wasn't pleased with Hermione's appearance either. Her face was gaunt and pale, the circles under her eyes were almost black, and she had deep cuts all along her legs. He was lucky he couldn't see what her back looked like, or he'd have a panic attack.

Hermione felt bad, he was probably freezing, since she'd had to take off his shirt to make a tourniquet for the gash to his hip. It had been the only way to control the bleeding, since she herself didn't have the strength to keep an even amount of pressure all through the night.

"Are you cold?" she asked, kissing his forehead before she peeled back his shirt, now a tourniquet, and took a careful look at the cut. "It's looking better, and the bleeding's stopped."

"No, I'm fine," Ron lied. His chattering teeth gave him away.

"We just need to recoup and rest for a day. I doubt they'd expect us to be in Ireland."

"That's where we are?"

"Yes. I came here once years and years ago with my aunt and uncle." They sat in silence for a moment, before Hermione stood up. "If I recall correctly, caves are prevalent here. If we can find one, we have shelter."

"Brilliant," Ron said, sighing and laying his head back down.

"You don't have to do anything, just relax," Hermione said as she started examining the trees, searching for any indication behind the thick foliage that a cave might be present. She moved from the tree to tree, carefully examining the surrounding area. Several minutes later, a small explosion startled Ron out of the light sleep he'd fallen into.

"What the bloody hell was that?" he cried out, shooting up like a bullet and rushing to her side.

"Relax, love," Hermione told him. "I thought I saw a cave behind the foliage and I needed to clear it," Hermione ushered him to follow her as she slowly knelt down and crawled inside the cave that, had indeed, been hidden behind the foliage. They wouldn't have otherwise found it, had she not caused the small explosion. She scooted as far over as she could to allow Ron access.

"I have to admit, this is bloody cool," Ron said as he looked up in awe. He rubbed his hands together while his teeth clattered loudly and his body shivered.

"Come here," Hermione said, although there was barely five centimeters between them. Ron happily obliged, and she pulled him into an embrace. They lay like that for the rest of the day - their limbs tangled together and their bodies pressed up against each other.

Several Hours Later

Hermione was about to shift her body when she realized Ron was asleep. They had both sat in silence for several hours, and she'd closed her eyes, but without falling asleep. It would seem natural that he'd fall asleep. He was injured and he had probably drained himself of a week's worth of energy fighting off the Snatcher's with a wound like his.

The cold cave floor brought to light just how cold it was. It had been a bearable temperature earlier in the day, a little chilly, but not too bad. Now, it was freezing, and Hermione inferred it had come from the sun's setting.

She slowly sat up, as she had fallen into a comfortable position lying with her head in Ron's chest. Ron stirred, but did not awaken. Hermione stroked his hair lightly with her hand. Her hand was bloody and dirty, and normally she would've been hesitant to touch anyone with it in that state, but alas, he was just as grimy. His beautiful ginger hair was matted, and where cuts and bruises weren't existent, dirt was there. She couldn't find a decent-sized patch of his pale skin that wasn't dirty.

"Of course!" Hermione hissed, mentally slapping herself since her hands were currently too close to Ron to physically slap herself without waking him from the rest of her body moving. She had her bag! The Snatchers had paid no attention to her bag! They had been so infuriated by the couple's refusal to cooperate, they had immediately started focusing on the torture.

"We can get out of this cave," Hermione muttered, lifting Ron's head very slowly from her lap and setting it gently on the cave floor. She got on all fours, the cold rock irritating her skin with its jagged surface, as she crawled outside. The crisp, cold air hit her face like a pile of bricks, but she welcomed it. It was refreshing.

Hermione hadn't noticed while she was trying to get Ron into the shelter of the cave that the forest was on a plateau-type landform. Hermione grinned as she looked below and saw sand and crashing waves. "This is too amazing," she whispered as she began to climb down the ten-foot side of the plateau.

Her fit hit the sand below with a thud. Straightening her back, and wiping dirt off her hands, Hermione took off her jacket, letting the air flow around her arms, bare from the tank top she had on. Her shoes quickly followed suit, being added to the newly formed pile, along with her socks, and bag. She pulled her frizzy hair out of her face and up into a messy bun. It certainly wasn't going to cooperate for long, but while it was being docile, she was going to enjoy it.

Opening out her arms and squealing in delight, Hermione ran out into the water. She let the cold waves crash over her feet as she dug her toes into the sand. She tossed her head back, and admired the blue sky, before shutting her eyes and feeling every ounce of pressure lift from her shoulders. It was everything she needed and more. She was like a child again. She was being reborn.