*This piece was written as an alternative to the Deathly Hallows Part 1 film scene in which Hermione almost has a run-in with Scabior and Harry (very nonchalantly) turns up next to her. I would have loved to have seen Ron come to her rescue instead, so read on and see how it happens.
It had been an entirely uneventful few days. Every night on watch duty found Hermione staring into the fire, followed by staring into the large expanse of black woods surrounding her. Mentally, she was too tired to reread "Beetle the Bard" and even if she could manage enough energy for it, her mind's focus always landed elsewhere…mainly the weakened redhead who lay resting just inside the tent. She knew Ron was doing much better, now that he had spent the last several days recovering after being splinched, but, much to Harry's concerns, Ron was not still strong enough to apparate.
SNAP!
Hermione's eyes darted over to where a twig broke in the distance. Her thought process halted and her heart paused for a moment. She stood to get a better view. Nothing. Something about the darkness of the forest made Hermione feel terribly small. She began to move away from the tent, the glow from the fire decreasing with each tentative step. Although she was positive that the sound simply came from a passing animal, the ambiance of the forest at night played with her imagination. Her breathing became labored and her heartbeat felt heavy. Her eyes scanned around her but saw nothing more than black trees. She strained her ears but the only noise besides her breathing was the fallen leaves crunching beneath her feet. Just as she suspected, she was alone.
As soon as Hermione thought it, the unmistakable sound of footfalls burst from her right and she stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide with panic. Three large men were strolling casually in front of her, one carrying an unconscious body. Her first instinct was to call back to the tent but she realized she had no idea if she was still within the protective boundaries she set, or if the men were about to pass through them. She couldn't risk giving Harry's whereabouts away.
Fear overcame her, and all she could do was stand and hold her breath. Her brain screamed at her legs to turn and make a run for her wand but they suddenly felt like lead. Why the hell would she leave her wand? She felt the tears brewing in her eyes as they passed within feet of her, the head of their victim bobbing unceremoniously in the large man's arms. The last of the group, a skinny man with long, dark hair passed her by and for a brief moment Hermione was sure they would walk on, leaving her undetected.
"What's that?" he spoke softly, stopping in mid-step. The others obediently stopped and waited. Hermione's heart dropped when the man turned back, slowly stepping to within inches of her face. Instinctively she took in a gulp of air that was entirely too big and held it. The man held up a finger and asked, "What's that smell?"
Hermione immediately remembered splashing on some perfume this morning…for Ron. She never imagined it would get them caught. Suddenly she felt like a foolish girl.
Hermione watched as the man took a deep breath in, as if he was memorizing her scent. Hermione felt like prey in a corner and, although the man's eyes weren't meeting her own, she felt as if he were looking right at her. One more step forward is all it would take to reveal the tent, and it would all be over.
"HERMIONE!" A voice rang out through the silence. Ron's voice. Hermione jumped but otherwise did not move, watching for a reaction from the still unmoving man in front of her. The other two men were talking to him now, egging him to continue onward.
"Don't touch her!" Hermione heard Ron yell as he approached, his heavy steps crunching the leaves. Her fear wouldn't let her turn away from the man but she saw Ron's wand come into view, aimed at the head of the rouge wizard. She felt his hand on hers, pulling her back several steps and, before she knew what was happening, Ron had her behind his back, wand still pointed threateningly. She felt his shoulders heaving with adrenaline as they stood still as statues, huddled together.
"Snatchers." Ron said as the men disappeared through the trees. He turned to Hermione, his voice laced with anger, "Next time, if you hear something, come get me, all right?"
A wave of foolishness washed over Hermione and she suddenly couldn't look Ron in the eyes. She felt tears well up and she tried her best to force them back down. She shook her head angrily. "You're supposed to be inside resting. What were you doing?"
He chuckled sarcastically, "Are you complaining?"
"No! I'm just…worried about you." Hermione pointed to Ron's bandaged arm.
Something about the weakness in Hermione's voice melted Ron's frustrations away. He gathered her into a hug. "I'm alright. You know I'm feeling better. You know that. And, well, I'm worried about you too. It's allowed, ya know. I was just checking on you."
There was a moment where Hermione nodded and just looked into Ron's eyes, attempting to erase the memory of the snatcher's predatory face. "Come on, Mione. S'almost Harry's watch. Let's get you some sleep."