Disclaimer: Harry Potter, etc. are the intellectual property of JKR; no infringement is intended.

Chapter 7: Don't Judge a Book…

Ron stood up to his full height, his fists clenched by his sides and ready to strike. Hermione's first instinct, on the other hand, was to pull the cloak up to her neck to cover herself before realizing that she was fully dressed underneath. Snape's gaze moved from Hermione to Ron and then back to Hermione again. One of his eyebrows lifted in a questioning manner and the corner of his snarl twitched a bit.

"Isn't this cozy," he remarked, his snarl back in place. "Now what the bloody hell are you two doing out here…besides playing house," he verbally jabbed and Ron's face turned red with anger—Hermione's turned red in embarrassment.

"You bloody git," Ron spat, and Snape's gaze darkened.

"That insolence, Weasley, towards a Hogwarts Professor, will cost Gryffindor greatly," he threatened, his voice low.

"You're no professor and I will not show respect to a Death Eater. We know what Lucius Malfoy has planned for tonight; do you really think we're going to let you attack Hogsmeade?" Ron replied, and Hermione saw Snape's scowl waver for just a second.

"You know nothing, Weasley. Do not presume to know all that's happening here," Snape's voice was cold, but it was no different than how he usually treated them. Had he truly been a Death Eater, however, he would not even have bothered revealing himself to them; he would have killed them without hesitation.

"I believe you," Hermione said quietly. She could tell that she had stunned both of them—Snape couldn't believe she trusted him and Ron couldn't believe that she'd just agreed with a Death Eater over him. Hermione stood up next to Ron who looked at her incredulously.

"You can't be serious," he said.

"Listen to you girlfriend, Weasley," Snape said told him. He threw Hermione an apprising look, his gaze glued to her bandaged head. "She may not be much to look at, though that hair is an improvement, but for once something useful has come out of her mouth," Snape spat. People could usually get away with a lot if they were insulting Ron directly, but the minute they attacked Hermione, he always jumped at her defense. Snape knew that, and was using it to push Ron's buttons. At Snape's remark, then, Hermione knew that Ron was only seconds from lashing out and she put her hands around his arm to hold him back. Snape was only trying to provoke them, but this was not the time for fighting, not when they were the only three people who could stop the Death Eaters.

"Ron, I'm a little thirsty," Hermione feigned ill. "I think my head is starting to act up a little. Could you melt some snow so that I can have some water?" She was actually feeling fine, but she needed to speak to Snape and she knew that with Ron there, she'd spend more time breaking up fights between the two than actually getting a word in edgewise. Ron looked reluctant to leave, but after taking his cauldron out of his bag he retreated, throwing Snape a dirty look for good measure.

"What are you two doing here, Miss. Granger?" Snape asked her. His voice was a little softer but that was not saying much.

"We were on the Hogwarts Express; our care broke away from the rest of the train and derailed." Hermione had intentionally hesitated on the 'broke away' to see what Snape's reaction would be. His nod showed that he understood…probably everything.

"And your head?" he asked, showing a rare wave of concern.

"I had a run-in with my trunk," Hermione replied flippantly, downplaying her injury.

"I see; well I suppose the reason you and Mr. Weasley have been stranded is partly my fault, for as you seem to be aware, the car did not break-away on its own. I had, however, thought it to be empty at the time."

"But why did you even attack the school train if you're not a Death Eater?"

"It was a way to prove myself to Malfoy who has for some time doubted where my loyalties lie. I had counted on derailing only the last car, blaming the failed attempt on the poor weather, and was certain that it was empty, as I have stated already. I could not see very well for the snow, of course, but had anyone been sitting in a compartment I would have seen them…unless of course they were not sitting at all." Hermione blushed for she remembered how she had fallen on top of Ron and how her hair had wound itself around the button of his shirt; neither of them had been in any hurry to get up.

"It is a wonder that you didn't see us, then," she said, deciding to employ the ignorance approach although she was certain that Snape could see right through her.

"Yes…a wonder," he replied, and this time his snarl did not just twitch, it transformed into a knowing grin. Hermione had to look down at her feet as her cheeks flushed brightly. Snape's temporary moment of merriment, however, lasted only a second and he was soon back to the task at hand. "You had better give me those wands, Miss Granger, before Misters Crabbe and Goyle come-to and realize they're missing." His voice wasn't forceful at all, but he still meant what he said.

"But how will Ron and I protect ourselves? We can't just let Malfoy and his goons destroy Hogsmeade and attack Hogwarts students."

"You can, and you will, Miss. Granger. Simply because we are not in a school setting that does not mean that you can question my authority."

"We could be half-way home by now! We came back because we couldn't let you fight all by yourself." If Snape was surprised at Hermione's admission, his only reaction to it was a slight twitch of his eyebrows. He still looked every bit as surly as usual but when he spoke his voice was almost—friendly?

"Hermione," he said, and Hermione was taken aback because he had never addressed her by her first name…not in seven years of having her as his top student, "give me back those wands. They wouldn't do you or Mr. Weasley any good anyway. They have been used for Dark Magic for too long and neither of you could control them very well. As for 'Malfoy and his goons,' it is up to me to put a stop to their actions. This is none of your concern and you will do well to remember that. Potter's 'heroic' comportment has put ideas in your head—preposterous ideas. This situation is unlike any of your previous childish escapades. Do not believe yourself immortal," he finished and Hermione reluctantly gave him the two wands when he shot her a piercing glare. If Snape thought that she would give up entirely, however, he was sorely mistaken.

"You're daft, you know that?" Hermione asked, raising her voice. The fact that she was addressing a Hogwarts Professor was either completely lost on her, or she was choosing to ignore it. "You know," she continued, becoming a little more adamant, "we've always thought you were a complete twit. For seven years we've absolutely loathed you; do you know how much convincing it took to get Ron to come back here? He's completely convinced that good or bad we should just let you die and right now, I'm not completely sure that I don't agree with him. Do you think that we don't know that we're probably going to die? After all we've been through, and we've only just—" she had been about to reveal the recent developments in her friendship with Ron but bit her tongue when she realized it. "—Well, regardless. We couldn't just ignore the fact that no matter how much we dislike you, you're still our only hope at defeating this. So if you think that we're going to let you do this alone then you are the git we've always believed you to be," she finished. Ron had returned in the middle of her speech and now stood dumbstruck, staring at her. Snape looked slowly from one to the other.

"Very well," Snape relented after a moment, "but I still cannot allow you to keep these wands as they would only contribute to the suspicions over me. You will stay here until I send for you. Until then, you will both get some rest, and by rest I mean sleep," he looked crossly at the both of them before pulling a vial of clear liquid out of his pocket. He motioned Hermione to the side and spoke quietly to her. From Ron's position, one could hear nothing, only see Hermione blush profusely and shake her head when Snape asked her something. Snape tapped the vial with his wand and the liquid inside turned a deep purple. He handed it to Hermione, who accepted it shyly and drank it down, handing the vial back to Snape, though she did not meet his eyes. Snape threw a look over at Ron, muttered something else to Hermione, and then turned on his heels and walked back towards the Death Eater camp.

"What was that all about?" Ron asked her but Hermione shook her head.

"I'll tell you later," she muttered and she looked mortified.

"Did he say something to you?" Ron asked her, but Hermione placed a gently hand on his arm and mustered a smile—though it did not reach her eyes. Ron knew to drop the subject for the moment and he placed the cauldron near the fire where the snow melted. He let the water cool slightly before drinking and handing the cauldron to Hermione who did the same.

"We should get some sleep," Hermione whispered and headed for the cloak they'd been using as a bed. Ron came to lie beside her a minute later, but Hermione kept her eyes clamped shut and pretended to sleep. Not even when Ron placed his arm around her and snuggled close did she respond, and after what seemed like hours she finally did sleep.

~*~

Hermione slept, but she did not sleep well. Judging by the way Ron kept tossing beside her, it was apparent that he too was trying hard to get some rest but couldn't quite achieve it. Hermione's drams were filled with flashing green lights and the sensation of a thousand knives stabbing her at once. She dreamt of Ron lying on the ground but as dreams usually go, Ron turned into Crookshanks with a broken leg, hanging by the tail near a wall of silvery letters while Moaning Myrtle floated about, sporting yellow eyes and whiskers. Hermione woke with a start. It was daylight now and it was freezing. The fire was only barely lit and Hermione added some twigs to it, sitting up and hugging her knees as she stared in the revived flames. Snape had been concerned about her—genuinely concerned about her and that in itself was just so incredibly bizarre…so unlike him. Maybe all these years his behavior had all been an act, although if that were so he deserved to become a professional.

When he'd pulled Hermione aside, he'd asked her whether she and Ron had used any protection the night before. Hermione was mortified even just thinking about it now. They hadn't, of course. She had slept with Ron with the certainty that she was going to die the next day. What was it about death that made people want to grab the nearest member of the opposite sex and 'go at it,' as Ginny had called it? Hermione and she had discussed the subject at length last summer when Ginny had stayed with Hermione one weekend and they'd spent the entire three days wishing that Ron and Harry were just a little more like the characters in the movies and that they would come to their senses and make their moves. Still, when they'd watched a movie where a giant asteroid threatened to destroy the Earth and kill everyone on it—a situation that Ginny had pointed out to be very unrealistic as everyone knew that the Ministry had highly trained wizards whose very job it was to divert the course of such objects—they had fallen into a conversation about death and sex. Essentially, they had gathered that when faced with death, it was the human imperative to reproduce so that on the off chance that one would survive, the legacy would live on. Of course, that was complete rubbish.

There was no chance of Hermione becoming pregnant as Snape had given her a potion to prevent it, and even though Hermione knew that she was by no means a mother, the thought of having a little red-haired boy running around, the spitting image of his father, warmed Hermione's heart. The thought that she and Ron could both contribute to making something so small and so beautiful was simply mind-boggling. Hermione knew that even though it could not happen right now, that it would inevitably happen one day. Before Snape had left he had also told her that if Ron did not marry her, he could not imagine any other man who would be able to keep up with her.

If Hermione had slept with Ron it had not been because of some basic instinct for one last chance at reproduction. She had not merely 'slept' with Ron; she had shown him with actions what she could not tell him in words: that she loved him…that she would always love him. Now that they had Snape on their side, that they knew for certain that he was against the Death Eaters, they had a better chance to survive, a better chance to tell each other how they felt.

Hermione was not tired, but weary as she continued to stare into the flames. She could only hope that if on of them had to die it would be her; she knew that if Ron died, she would ease to exist, anyway. A stray tear fell down Hermione's cheek. She had cried more tears in the past three days than she had her entire life. She knew that she had to do this, but it was still so unfair. For the first time in her life she truly realized how Harry must have felt every time he stepped into a situation like this one, and she felt a new-found respect for her best-friend…now a man; one that she loved as a brother.

"I'm never going to give Harry trouble about his legacy again," Ron muttered, sitting up behind Hermione and inching closer to the fire in search of warmth. It was a wonder how they were always on the same train of thought and that never ceased to amaze her. This only served to reinforce Hermione's conviction that they were indeed on together…as schmaltzy as it sounded, she knew that they were meant to be.

"I know exactly what you mean," she answered Ron, wiping her cheeks from their lingering tears.

"Hermione," Ron began, placing his hand on her shoulder. He seemed uncertain, even reluctant. Hermione turned to look at him and his facial expression mirrored his doubt. "Is everything alright? Do you regret…"

"No," Hermione answered adamantly. "I don't regret last night. I won't regret what happened as long as I live," she told him with conviction and Ron's tension vanished immediately.

"Good," he responded, smiling slightly. He was as torn up over their situation as she was. They were about to embrace when noises from the Death Eater camp alerted them that something was happening—and whatever it was, it could not be good.

"Bugger! What the bloody hell was that?!" Ron exclaimed; he and Hermione jumped to their feet and ran as more shouts and sounds of struggle were heard. When they neared the spot from which they'd observed the Death Eaters the night before, both of them instinctively crouched-down low so as not to be seen. When they finally made sense of the chaos before them, their hearts caught in their throats. Amidst the crowd of Death Eaters was one whose robes were torn and whose face was very badly bruised. It was, of course, Professor Snape who was barely conscious as the Death Eaters dragging him threw him on the ground and one of them kicked him in the ribs. Hermione made as if to run towards the camp but Ron stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Don't," he whispered, "we won't be any help if we're caught."

"But they'll kill him!" Hermione insisted, barely able to keep her voice quiet or the fear from appearing on her face.

"He took the wands, remember? Just wait—maybe something will come up. Maybe they'll let him go." Hermione threw him a look. "Well it might happen," Ron defended himself.

"We can't just stand here and let him get killed. We have to do something!" Hermione continued as she watched the Death Eaters beat Snape some more before Lucius Malfoy spoke-up.

"We have a traitor among us!" Malfoy yelled as the thralls of Death Eaters calmed-down to listen. Snape was still on the ground, but at least no one was hitting him. He tried to get up but only managed to raise himself on all fours, clutching his ribs. "Severus Snape, you have shown yourself disloyal to the Dark Lord. For a long time I have suspected this man of being less than commitent to our cause, and tonight those suspicions were founded when this slime was found sneaking in the tents of Misters Crabbe and Goyle—" Hermione heard a soft expletive coming from Ron before he got up and doubled back to their camp. Hermione didn't have time to ask him what he was doing, and she feared that if she followed him she might be made-out and captured also. She hoped that Ron would be back soon, and turned back to the Death Eaters.

"This 'man'," Malfoy spat, still speaking about Snape, "this traitor has been serving the Muggle lover Dumbledore all these years. He has been tortured and interrogated at length. We have no use for him. What have you to say for yourself, slime, before we kill you?" Hermione turned just in time to see Ron running back to her, carrying all of their things. He winked at her, and took her hand.

"Get ready to run," he whispered. They looked back at Snape who had managed to stand upright, though it was with much pain.

"Go to hell, Malfoy," he drawled, and spat on the snow at Malfoy's feet. The look on Malfoy's face clouded over and he raised his wand, the Killing Curse on the edge of his tongue, no doubt, but before he could utter it, a small explosion went-off at Hermione's back and then a series of other ones. Hermione had no time to wonder what was happening for as the Death Eaters were distracted by the noise, Ron pulled Hermione into a run, both keeping as low to the ground as they could, and led them into the nearest tent. They paused, catching their breaths as Hermione looked around her.

"No what?" she asked.

"I don't know; I'm playing it by ear," he replied, and peeked out the tent. Only two Death Eaters were outside. There were shouts in the distance and Hermione heard Lucius Malfoy issue the order to search the mountainside. Ron snickered.

"Stupid git; wouldn't occur to him that we might be right under his nose, would it?"

"I say be thankful for that, Ron; for once, it's a good thing that all Malfoys are idiots."

"I suppose this is one of those few times where I'm happy that Malfoy's an idiot, and I'm even happier that it runs in the family.

""Yes, well, that's all well and good, but what now? If we stay here it's only a matter of time before someone falls upon us and then we're in Barney for sure."

"You don't say!" Ron replied sarcastically. Women were so irrational sometimes—no wonder he liked them so much. Ron peeked-out the tent again; one of the Death Eaters was still standing a few feet outside, his back facing them, while the other had taken to watching Professor Snape, probably in the hopes that the latter would try to escape so that the former would have an excuse to perform the Cruciatus curse on him until Malfoy could come back and finish what he'd started.

Ron looked around the tent they were in, the gears in his head turning as he formulated a plan. They were, after all, in a kitchen; he walked to one side of the tent where there were a collection of heavy cast iron pans and picked one up, weighing it. Hermione caught the glint in his eye and immediately understood what he was thinking. She nodded her assent as Ron turned back to the tent flap.

"Psst," he whispered, getting the Death Eater's attention.

When the Death Eater entered the tent to investigate, all he saw was Hermione standing in the middle of the room looking sheepishly at him before he felt his skull crack underneath the weight of the skillet. Hermione looked down almost sympathetically at the Death Eater.

"Trust me, that's no fun," she told him, subconsciously clutching at her bandage before turning to Ron with a smile. "Forget about Quidditch; you should consider a baseball career," Ron looked at her blankly, missing the reference. "I'll explain later," Hermione said.

"Ready for an encore performance?" Ron asked, helping Hermione drag the knocked-out Death Eater into a corner before they got back to business.

"Yes; show me my public," she joked, and Ron returned to his position behind the tent flap. After several tries at gaining the man's attention with whispered 'pssts' and failing, Ron tried another tactic on the burly Death Eater. Putting-on his slimiest voice, he called to him.

"Oi, mate! Come see this, looks like Brother Malfoy's been keeping his own stash of Treacle Pudding!"" At the mention of food, and the implication that someone might be eating something he wasn't privy to, the Death Eater left his watch over Snape and ambled into the tent. As with the previous Death Eater, Ron swung with all his might, satisfaction coursing through him as he felt the hard metal of the pan connect with the man's head. The burly Death Eater swayed for a few seconds and eventually collapsed. It took quite a bit longer to drag him into a corner due to his weight, but after a few minutes the bodies of both Death Eaters were well concealed.

"They won't be too happy when they wake-up; luckily we'll be far away by then," Ron said as Hermione and he left their tent…only to find Snape gone. Hermione's heart leapt in her throat until she spotted him ambling out of a tent, clutching his wand. The couple rant to him.

"If that was your idea of a signal, I'd think of a better one next time," Ron teased, trying to lighten the mood. Snape threw him a look that was almost amused, although he tried to cover it with a scowl.

"I'm surprised the two of you haven't gotten yourselves killed, yet," he told them, trying to sound authoritative but not quite achieving it.

"Yes, yes, let's keep the lecturing to a minimum until we get out of here if you don't mind. You can give us all the detentions you want when we get back to Hogwarts, but don't forget that we did just save your hide," Ron told Snape who was still clutching his ribs. Hermione looked at Snape standing in front of her for a second before snatching the wand out of his hands and pointing it at him, her brow furrowed.

"Hermione!?" Ron gasped as he now watched Hermione threatening a man with his own wand.

"Miss Granger," Snape echoed cautiously, although he looked as if he was in too much pain to defend himself at this point. Ron seriously believed for a second that Hermione was under the Imperius curse and that her mind was being controlled; when a series of Latin words came out of her mouth, he shut his eyes tightly, fearing the worst.

"Than you," Ron heard Professor Snape mutter grudgingly a second later, and the fact that there were no screams of pain being uttered indicated that it was safe to open his eyes again. He did so in time to see Hermione—who looked very smug—hand Snape back his wand; surprisingly, Snape was looking as if he was in less pain, and was standing a little bit more upright.

"A modified binding charm," Hermione explained proudly to Ron. "Rather than metaphorically binding his magic, I physically bound his ribs," she exclaimed.

"I'm sure Professor Flitwick will be very proud," Ron managed to croak-out, still in too much shock to say much of anything else. Hermione looked pleased at the praise, and Ron could only stare at her some more.

"Yes, yes, very touching moment indeed, but now let it be my turn to remind you that it would be imperative for us to leave…post haste," Snape interrupted, foreseeing a schmaltzy moment between the two that they just could not afford at the moment. Snape rolled his eyes and turned his back on the couple, trying to see a way away from the Death Eaters. Unfortunately, as Ron and Hermione had found-out before, the only way to make it back to Hogsmeade safely was to go through the mountains. With a few distractions, they would be able to get by the Death Eaters relatively easily, and once they were in the mountain they would be relatively safe.

"So, what now?" Hermione asked, looking at Ron who's jaw was still on the ground and turning her gaze to Snape who was now scowling even more than was normal for him.

"I don't like that look on your face," Ron said, finally snapping out of his trance. Indeed, Snape was facing a crucial decision. He and Hermione would not be able to make it up the mountain injured as they were, but Ron had no major injuries to speak of and he was by far the strongest of them all. If he could make it to Hogsmeade and get word to Dumbledore of the attack, then he and Hermione might stay behind and attempt to stall the Death Eaters. They only stood half a chance of pulling-off something like that but half a chance was better than no chance at all—which was precisely what they had if they stayed there pondering their options. The only problem Snape had, then, lay in convincing the two lovebirds to see matters his way.

~*~

She had cried, and so had he although he'd hidden it from her. He'd put on a brave face, had told her—promised her—that he would see her in Hogsmeade. Ron felt as though his heart had been torn out of his chest, as though his very breath had been stolen from his lungs. Their good-byes had been short, much too short. Ron wanted to trade places with Hermione. More than anything now he wanted to be the one who was injured. Climbing a mountain was fannying about compared to facing an army of Death Eaters. Even though Ron knew that Snape would give his life before letting anything happen to Hermione it did not reassure him any. He was eighteen years old, a mere child, but he felt at least eighty. Here he was with the fate of an entire people on his shoulders, and his girlfriend facing certain death behind him. These were not events that he was supposed to face. He was supposed to be worrying about what he was going to do once he left Hogwarts and about how he would ask Hermione to accompany him to the Graduation Ball. Death and Mayhem were words that should have been obsolete from his vocabulary but instead they were the most prominent. He supposed that's what it meant to be Harry Potter's best friend. Until the Dark Lord was defeated, trouble would always follow them wherever they went…it was inevitable, really. Ron would do anything to help Harry, and realistically speaking it was only a matter of time before something happened to one of them. They were young but by no means invincible. They had survived seven years of attempts on their lives. One of these days, one of them would fail to come out unscathed.

"I love you, Hermione," Ron whispered. Even though Hermione wasn't there to hear him, somehow getting the words out helped him, soothed him. Ron continued on his trek, picking-up pace. Whatever Hermione was doing, he hoped that she was all right.

~*~

At the Death Eaters camp, however, things were far from being all right. The tents were all ablaze, the flames setting an orange glow to the smoke-invaded clearing. Clouds hid the sun and the atmosphere was one of gloom, and panic. Among the shouts of frantic men, Professor Severus Snape and Hermione Granger had spent the past several hours keeping the returned inhabitants of the camp at bay. Somewhere along the outreaches, Snape and Hermione had been separated and now, blood streaming freely from her head and several gashes on her arms, Hermione Granger collapsed.

"I love you, Ron," she whispered with difficulty, clutching her charm bracelet…her last link to the man she loved…as her eyes rolled into her head and darkness overtook her.