A/N:  Thanks to all who've left feedback and given me wonderful comments.  You're helpful and great!!


Disclaimer:  Everything belongs to JK Rowling.

******************************************************

Hermione looked into her closet, wondering why, whenever she actually needed something halfway decent, she had absolutely nothing to wear.  Well, honestly, it wasn't as if she needed anything extra special to wear because she wasn't really going any place special- just Diagon Alley.  But still, she wanted to look nice.

For... other... reasons.

Her parents had left early that morning, sneaking into her bedroom to kiss her goodbye and promising to call later that night after they'd settled into their hotel room.  She still wasn't entirely sure what the purpose of the Paris trip was, and she wasn't actually quite positive that she even wanted to know.  They'd mentioned something about business, but there was really no telling.  And Hermione certainly didn't want to guess.

All she knew for sure was that her parents were going to be gone for five days, leaving her all alone in the house.  She loved staying alone because she always felt so peaceful and content when there was absolutely nothing around to distract her but her own thoughts.  Although, sometimes her own thoughts were too much of a distraction for her to handle.

Like right now, for instance.

Giving up on finding something that would make her look gorgeous, she settled for a simple pair of khakis and a red short-sleeved shirt.  It was a boring enough outfit, but it wasn't too dreadful.  Besides, she certainly didn't want to appear obvious, and the last thing she wanted anyone to know was that she had actually put effort into finding a nice outfit.

After all, Diagon Alley was nothing to get excited about.

She'd mentioned to her mum that she was probably going to make the trip and get new supplies for school, and though her mother had been a bit reluctant about her plans of running off to London alone, she'd finally decided Hermione was quite capable of taking care of herself and had left her money, which, when converted to Galleons, would buy her enough things to last her for the entire school year.

The digital clock beside her bed flashed the time at her.  She was doing well on time, and so she took time to mess with her hair, a horrific feat at the best of times.  The hot and humid weather that was still plaguing their country simply wouldn't allow too many options; leaving it down certainly wasn't attractive.  She fiddled around with it for several minutes before finally deciding that the best she was going to get would be a simple ponytail. 

Her eyes fell on a small blue bottle on her dressing table, which was filled with pink liquid.  It was the perfume Ron had given her for Christmas that year, and she bit back a grin at the memory of opening it and being met with no idea whatsoever as to how to react.  It was certainly different than anything else he'd ever given her, and she remembered her words to him.  "That perfume is unusual."  She hadn't meant that it smelled strange because it didn't; it was a nice, pleasant flowery smell, a mix of wildflowers.  What's she'd meant was that the actual gift itself was unusual, as he'd never given her anything more personal than a box of sugar quills in the past.  She'd been beyond pleased when he had acted so nonchalant about the present; it would have been quite awkward otherwise.  Deciding that just a dab couldn't hurt her, she splashed a tiny amount of the perfume to her neck and replaced the cork of the bottle.  And with one last glimpse in the mirror, she shrugged and went downstairs to her fire.

Traveling by Floo Powder wasn't her ideal form of transportation, but it was quick and relatively painless as long as she kept her mouth and eyes shut tightly.  The only real downside to it was the mess that it normally left her in; of course, there wasn't really any way around that, so she would simply have to do her best to clean up once she got to Diagon Alley.  Taking a pinch of the white powder, she threw it into her fireplace and was instantly met with the huge green flames native to the Floo network.  Squeezing her eyes closed, she stepped into the flames and managed to say, "Diagon Alley!" before pressing her lips together tightly.

After all of the spinning and tugging, she found herself being pushed out of the grate and landing flat on her butt.  Luckily, the Diagon Alley grate was in the back of the Leaky Cauldron, and there wasn't anyone back there to witness her rather ungraceful arrival.  She stood up and walked across the room to the old cracked mirror that still hung from what was probably years and years before.  She wasn't too badly dirty, nothing that a bit of dusting off wouldn't fix.

Later, after she'd cleaned up a little and pecked her way through the entrance to Diagon Alley, she checked her watch and saw that she was just on time.  Ron was supposed to meet her outside of Fortescue's, and when she turned the corner, she perked up a bit, seeing that he was, as promised, waiting for her, a small caramel sundae sitting in front of him.

"Hey," she said brightly, sliding into a seat at the otherwise empty table he was sitting at.

He grinned in return, making Hermione suddenly remember exactly why she wanted something nice to wear.  "Are your parents gone?"

She nodded.  "Yeah, they left this morning."

"Want some?" he asked, pushing the half-eaten ice-cream toward her.   She smiled and took the spoon, the fact that Ron had just offered to give away food not at all lost to her.  "It's good, isn't it?" he asked, as she took her first bite.

She nodded and swallowed the cold treat.  "Yeah, because it's so hot out here."

"I know," he groaned, a bit over-dramatically, in Hermione's opinion.  "It's never been this hot before!"

She had to agree and took another bite of ice-cream before offering the spoon back to him.  "So, Ginny's gone to West Hamm, huh?"

Ron scowled slightly.  "Yeah," he said begrudgingly, dipping the spoon into the sundae.  "But all I know is that she better not be gone too long because I would hate to have to kill Dean."

Hermione snorted.  "Yeah, that probably wouldn't be such a good thing."

He shrugged and took his bite.  "I still can't believe she's being serious about that."

"Well, she is," said Hermione knowingly, gratefully accepting the spoon, which he offered to her.  "I think she really likes him."

Ron rolled his eyes.  "I don't think I want to hear about it."


Snickering to herself, Hermione finished off a bit more of the sundae.  "So, did your mum make a big deal about you wanting to come out here today?"

He shook his head.  "Nah, not really.  She'd already promised me and Ginny new things, so she gave me enough money to get things.  She still hasn't told us about Dad, so I figure that if they want to keep that a secret, I won't feel guilty about taking their money."

Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or scold him.  She settled on a sigh and a headshake.  There was a brief moment of silence in which she focused her attention on eating the sundae before sliding it back to him to finish off.

"Have you heard from Harry lately?" he asked a moment later, his mouth full of ice cream.

She wasn't sure why it bothered her that he wanted to talk about Harry.  It almost seemed like everything was always about Harry.  Still, though, she shook her head and answered.  "No, not since I called him.  He didn't really seem too keen to talk to me."

Ron nodded slowly and was quiet for just another few seconds before taking the last bite and looking up at her.  "Why do you think that is?"

Hermione was caught slightly off-guard by the question.  Not really knowing what answer he was looking for, she shrugged and said, "I don't know.  Maybe I'm too lowly for him."  She couldn't quite believe she'd actually said that.  It wasn't like she hadn't truly been thinking it but still.

To her surprise, though, Ron seemed completely nonplussed by her response.  "Yeah, me, too."

She raised her eyebrows, a bit shocked that he felt the same way.  "Really?"

"Yeah.  I mean, I sent him his birthday present and everything, but it's like he just doesn't want to even acknowledge that we're supposed to be best friends."

"He's just so withdrawn."

Ron nodded.  "Yeah, I know.  It's like he doesn't even want us to try and understand."

Hermione didn't know why she was so shocked that Ron seemed to just get it so perfectly.  After all, it was probably twice as hard for Ron to deal with Harry's avoidance than it was for Hermione to deal with.  Hermione, after all, had always put Harry and Ron in the same category as to their friendship with her; Ron, on the other hand, was Harry's best friend and vice versa.  Hermione just didn't add up for either of them the way they added up for each other to her.  She hadn't been stupid and completely missed the way they had each tried and failed miserably at trying to overcome this obstacle when she was all they had to work with during their fight in fourth year.

"I sent him something, too," she said quietly.  "But I haven't heard anything from him."

"I wonder what Luna sent him," said Ron with that familiar mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Hermione stared at him.  "Luna?  As in Luna Lovegood?"

"How many other Lunas do we know?"

Hermione just shook her head.  "Why on earth would Luna send him something for his birthday?"

"Because she wrote Ginny and asked where she could send something to Harry.  I don't know if he wrote back, but it's still funny."

She giggled.  "I can't believe that."

"Yep," said Ron with a grin.  "She must fancy him."

"But I thought Luna liked you."


"What?!"  Ron sputtered, his eyes bulging slightly.  "Why the hell would you think that?"

Hermione giggled again, amused by his reaction.  "Good luck, Ronald," she said in her best dreamy sort of voice.

Ron glared at her and kicked her under the table.  "Shut up.  That doesn't mean anything."

"Ow!" she grabbed at her shin, still snickering.  "I don't think I'd've minded.  I don't like dancing much."

"That is stupid reasoning," Ron said firmly.  "For all we know, she could have liked you." 

Hermione pulled a slightly disgusted face at the thought.  "Um, no, I think not."

"Then again, I don't think you're really her type."

"I should hope not."

"Too logical is what you are."

Hermione glared back at him, and then they both started laughing again.  This was nice.  This is what she missed, him making her laugh.  He could always do that, even when she was feeling her worst; it was a gift.

"So, are you done with your ice cream?" she asked, staring at the empty bowl and already knowing the answer.

"Yeah, do you need to go to Gringotts?"

She nodded and felt to make sure she still had the money in the pocket of her trousers.  "I've got to make an exchange."

They chatted along mindlessly as they walked down the crowded road to the bank, and Hermione hid a smile as Ron held the door open for her when they reached the entrance.  For once, Gringotts seemed free of its usual waiting lines.

"Yes?"  The goblin at the exchange desk looked up at her with a scowl, the look so native to goblins, yet still so unnerving.

"Um, I'd like to make an exchange.  Muggle to wizarding." 

"Name?"

Hermione had never been asked to identify herself at Gringotts before, but she answered anyway.  "Hermione Granger."

"Granger?"  The goblin studied her through wire-rimmed spectacles.  She swallowed nervously.  "From the newspaper.  Potter's friend."

Hermione glanced sideways at Ron, both of their eyes widening slightly.  Ron suddenly seemed quite keen to back out of the goblin's line of sight. 

"I've seen your name in the Prophet," he told her calmly, though it still freaked her out a bit.  "Last month."

With no idea as to how she was supposed to respond, she simply swallowed again and nodded a little shakily.  "Um, yes, sir..."

"Muggle-born, are you?" he asked, his tone suddenly cool and mysterious as he stared at the Muggle notes she'd laid on the desk.

She glanced sideways at Ron who looked just as confused as she felt.  "Yes," she said slowly.  "I am."

He nodded, and without another word, he disappeared with her Muggle money and returned with the proper exchange of galleons, sickles, and knuts.  Hermione didn't wait around to be questioned any further; she simply scooped up her money and dropped it into her bag and then turned and hurried out of the bank and down the stone steps, Ron close at her heels.

"What was that about?" he asked, finally catching up to her as she reached the bottom of the steps and started back down the street away from Gringotts.


"I don't know," she said, glancing back at the large bank.  "But he was definitely creepy."

"No shit."

"Nice language," she said dully, not knowing when everyone around her had turned into such filthy mouths, only knowing that she found herself closer and closer to the edge of joining them.

"Flourish and Blotts?"  Ron ignored her scolding and stopped in front of the bookshop.  Hermione, mildly surprised that he would be the one to suggest going for their books, smiled and nodded.


They entered the crowded store and walked towards the back where all of the Hogwarts books were located. 

"Did you figure out your schedule?" Hermione asked, as they browsed through the various editions of the spell books.

Ron nodded absently.  "Yeah."  He pulled out two copies of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six and handed one to her.  "Charms, Transfiguration, Defense, Care of Magical Creatures..." he stood on tiptoe to check the higher titles and lowered himself back down a moment later, "and Potions."

"You're taking Potions?" Hermione couldn't hide the shock in her tone. 

"Yeah," he looked at her strangely.  "Why wouldn't I?"

She shrugged and looked down at the cover of the new Charms book.  "I dunno.  I just figured that, given the choice, you'd opt out of Potions this year."

"Well, I can't, can I?  I've got to have a N.E.W.T. in it to apply to the Auror Academy."

At this, Hermione looked up and noticed that he was now staring very hard at the book titles, though it didn't really look like he was seeing them at all.  She knew he was extremely unsure of his abilities to make the cut in the field, but she also knew that being an Auror was his one real dream. 

"Well, then that's great.  We'll have that class together."  She smiled at him, hoping to convey some of her confidence in him.

"Did you figure out your schedule?"  He seemed put at ease by her reaction, though she wasn't at all calmed by his question.

She nodded uneasily.  "Yeah, I guess I'll just keep taking everything."

He stared at her as if she'd gone mad.  Perhaps she had...

"Why the hell do you want to take everything when half of that stuff is useless?"

"It's not useless," she said defensively.  "And anyway, I haven't even come close to deciding a career, so I don't know what I'll need.  Better safe than sorry."  She hoped that the disappointment she felt in herself at not having been able to choose a future for herself.  After all, she certainly had a reputation for being on top of things; something as serious as a career choice should have been taken care of ages ago.

Ron, though, didn't seem phased by her lack of direction.  He was still stuck on the first part of her explanation.  "Hermione, you'll kill yourself trying to keep up with all those subjects and Prefect stuff and S.P.E.W."  He rolled his eyes at the last part of his statement.

She turned a look of very vague interest on him.  "I managed just fine last year."

"But things are going to be harder this year.  The classes are going to be much more advanced."

"Ron," she sighed and shook her head.  "Ron, I've been doing N.E.W.T. standard work for a long time; I'm pretty sure I'll manage just fine."

He still didn't seem convinced but simply shrugged and went back to browsing the titles.  "Well, here," he said, heaving a particularly hefty book from a high shelf.  "You'll be needing this."

Hermione stared down at the title.  Advanced Astronomy: A Closer Look at the Universe.  Although Astronomy was definitely not one of her more enjoyable subjects, she did feel that it had its advantages and could possibly be an important asset to her future.  Setting it on top of the Charms book she'd now set on the floor, she turned and helped browse the shelves.  Within fifteen minutes, they'd found all they needed, Hermione's stack standing quite a bit higher than Ron's.

"Do you want to switch till we check out?" he asked, eyeing her load, which was probably more than twice as heavy as his own.

She thought it very sweet of him to offer to carry the books until they were ready to leave; afterwards, it wouldn't be difficult at all as the shop owners always set Weightless Charms on their packages.  Smiling her gratitude, she said, "If you don't mind, that would be very nice."

He shrugged and bent down to heave her load from the floor.  She knew it had to be heavy as his much smaller stack wasn't light.  He didn't complain, though, simply followed her around the shelves to the other section she wanted to visit.  They deposited their loads once more, and Hermione felt herself getting engrossed by the rows and rows of books.  Ron waited patiently, barely sighing at all, until she finally found something that piqued her interest.

"Ancient and Almost Forgotten Spells of the Past."  Ron read the title out loud as he stared down at the book in her hands.  "Planning on using some long-ago deceased magic, Hermione?"

She wasn't sure why she was drawn to the book, but she could definitely see it having something very important within.  "I don't know," she answered honestly.  "It just looks interesting, I guess."


With that said, the duo made their way to the check out and paid for their books, both leaving the shop carrying virtually weightless package.  Hermione carefully placed both packages into her messenger bag; it was a tight fit, but she managed.  The street outside was still very crowded, and the hot sun was blazing brightly, causing Hermione to squint until her eyes adjusted to the light.


"I need to get new robes," said Ron, looking down the road toward Madam Malkin's.  "Do you want to come, or do you just want to meet me somewhere later?"

She shrugged.  "I'll go with you.  I can look around if nothing else."


They started making their way down the street toward the robe shop, squeezing in and out of the crowds of people shopping; apparently all the witches and wizards in England had taken it upon themselves to go out on that particular Saturday. 

They walked in silence for a few minutes until Hermione tripped over one of the laces on her trainers.  "Hang on a second," she said, stopping in the clearing of two buildings to drop to a squatting position and pushing her bag out of her way so she could tie her shoes.  Ron stopped and turned back around to wait.

"What's wrong?" she asked curiously, as Ron was staring at something behind her very oddly.  Before he could make any type of answer, though, she felt something sharp poke the back of her neck.


And that was the last thing she remembered.

************************************************************

Ron woke up with a splitting headache, the sort of pain that made it nearly impossible to even open your eyes.  He was immediately aware that he had no idea where he was even before he got the chance to glance around at his surroundings; wherever he'd been slumbering was hard and cold, not at all like the worn mattress on his bed at the Burrow or even like his slightly more sturdy four poster at Hogwarts.  Forcing his eyes open, Ron winced in the light and groaned, the pain in his head doubling instantly.

From his reclining position, he could see nowhere except straight up; what he saw, though, gave no clue to him except that he was outside.  The sky was above him, visible through what looked like an opening between two tall buildings.  A sharp pain shot through the front of his head, and he grabbed at it out of instinct and felt something wet and sticky on his fingers.

"Ugh," he said, bringing them back down to his view and looking at the thick blood, his blood, that was now covering them.  Realizing that something was definitely not right, as he was outside sleeping and bleeding, he forced himself into a sitting position and tried desperately not to notice the pain that was still plaguing his head.

"What the hell..."  He looked around at his surroundings and saw that he seemed to be lying in the middle of some deserted alley.  It was still daylight outside, but the area he was in was dim because of the constriction from normal view.  He had no clue where he was, as nothing at all looked familiar.


Except for the unconscious form of a certain brunette that was lying not five ten from him...

"Hermione!"  He forgot all about the blood and the pain and jumped up to rush to her.  He dropped back down to his knees when he reached her and winced at the sight of a large purplish bruise that was showing prominently underneath her left eye.  She was breathing, though; her chest was rising and falling steadily, and for this he was more thankful than he could even comprehend.  He didn't know what had happened, only that they couldn't afford to stick around and figure it out.  "Hermione, wake up!"  He reached for her shoulder and shook her lightly.  She groaned and mumbled something but didn't open her eyes.  "Please wake up, come on, Hermione, get up..."  He shook her more roughly, and this time her eyes did flutter open.

"Ron?"  Her voice was groggy, and she was staring up at him with still unfocused eyes.  "What happened?"  Her eyes started to close slowly, but he shook her shoulder again.

"I don't know.  But we have to go."  He reached with both hands and lifted her into a sitting position.  Her eyes opened once again as he struggled to balance in his squatting position while supporting all of her weight.

"You're bleeding..."  She looked at him strangely and slowly lifted one of her hands to touch the wound he could now feel more prominently.  He expected it to hurt when she touched it, but instead it felt strangely less painful.  "Why are you bleeding?"  She sounded so distant and dreamy as she lowered her hand to stare at the blood now covering it.

"I don't know."  They didn't have time for this.  "Come on, we've got to get out of here."

"Not so fast, Mr. Weasley."  Ron stopped in the middle of trying to pull Hermione to her feet and turned his head at the sound of his name.    There was no one behind him, so he carefully set Hermione back down, thankful that she was now awake enough to sit up on her own, and he stood up to look all around him.

Suddenly, though, a man in a black cloak seemed to materialize out of thin air, and it was only after Ron saw the Invisibility Cloak drop away that he remembered.  He'd turned around to wait for Hermione while she tied her trainer but had seen a hand clutching a wand appear out of nowhere.  He remembered seeing Hermione just topple over for seemingly no reason, but that was the last thing he could recall.

"Who are you?" he demanded, instinct telling him to back away and ignore the urge to try and get a better look at the hooded man's face.

"That, I'm afraid, is none of your concern."  The man stepped forward a bit, and Ron realized all too late that he was heading to the place where Hermione was now sitting, looking now fully awake and quite terrified.  "Miss Granger, is it?  How are you feeling?"

Hermione jumped up immediately and backed away from the man and closer to Ron. 

"There's no need to run, children," said the voice, calm and serene.  "You won't get very far if you make this difficult."

"What do you want?"  Hermione was now looking not so much terrified as she was extremely pissed off.  Ron had no doubt that she was remembering the last time they'd been around any of these familiarly cloaked figures; this man was a Death Eater as were all the ones who tried to hurt them in June. 

"I think you know what we want, young one," the man now sounded almost amused.  "Quite thankful we are, for the lovely little tip-off that you two were visiting this Saturday."


The Gringotts' goblin...  Ron looked sideways at Hermione, who stared at him with a look of equal comprehension.

"I'm sure Mr. Potter would join you if he could, perhaps you'd like to tell us where we can find him?"

"Go to hell."  Ron glared at the man despite the fact that eye-contact was impossible.  He was surprised that he wasn't more scared than he was; he was, if anything, feeling blinding anger.

"I'm afraid that can't be arranged."  A cold, nasty laughter sounded from beneath the hood.  "You see, my death is not on the agenda today."

"Neither are ours," Hermione said defiantly, and the man laughed again.


"How naïve you are."


"You can't kill us," she said, not backing down in the least.  "You need us."

Ron couldn't express how impressed he was by her complete lack of fear.  If she was feeling any, she was doing a damn good job of hiding it.  It was almost as if she'd been waiting for something like this and knew exactly how to go about handling it.  She never failed to amaze him.

"Top of your class, aren't you?"  The man shrugged.  "Well, yes, you're certainly very intuitive.  However, you're also very badly mistaken."

"If you want Harry, you need us," she said simply.  It was almost as if she were bargaining with the Death Eater.

"Correction," came the reply.  "We need one of you."

Hermione faltered, and Ron looked at her, hoping to catch her eye but she didn't respond.  Not knowing what else to do, Ron dug his hand into his pocket and reached for something that was not there.

"Looking for this?"  The Death Eater produced one and then another wand.  Ron recognized them immediately as his own and Hermione's.  "Surely, you didn't think we'd give you a fair chance in all of this."

Finally, Ron was able to catch Hermione's eye.  He saw in it a deeply hidden hesitation.  She was afraid.

"Of course, before we get to the main fun, I don't suppose it would hurt to have a bit of warm up."  He deposited the two extra wands back into his robe and pulled out his own.  "How about a bit of trivia?  You're smart, aren't you?  Prefects?  Top of the class?"  He looked at Hermione, who was now staring at him very intently.  "I'll ask the questions, and you two answer.  If I like the answer, you move on to the next round.  If not..."  His voice trailed off, and Ron could just make out the shadow of a smile on his hooded face.  "We'll start with you, Weasley.  Where is Potter now?"

"Fuck you."  It was the first response that came to mind, and he didn't regret it at all, even if he was sure that Hermione was silently chiding him for the language. 

"Ew, that's a wrong answer, I'm afraid."  The Death Eater's tone was a very fake one of sympathy.  "Lucky for you, though, there's a bonus question."  Ron glared at him.  "And guess what!  It's a repeat!  Where is Potter, you little piece of shit?"  His tone was no longer joking and jovial, and he brandished his wand threateningly in Ron's direction.

Ron, though, was determined not to give him the satisfaction of letting him know that wand unnerved him in the least.  "Well, guess what.  My answer's a repeat, too!  Fuck you!"

"Crucio!" 

Ron didn't even have time to register the Curse before the pain hit him; it was like nothing he'd ever felt before, truly, truly unbearable.  For a brief second, he remembered the way the spider had writhed during his fourth year when the fake Mad-Eye had demonstrated the Unforgivables, but then he couldn't think of anything at all.  His knees buckled, and he hit the floor.

He heard Hermione scream in terror and saw her jump back in shock as he fell, but he bit down hard on his tongue to stop his own screams.  It hurt so badly...

And then it was over.

The Death Eater lifted the Curse, leaving Ron panting on the ground and Hermione now looking thoroughly horrified.  They were both stunned silent.

"So, perhaps you'd like to answer my question now, yes?"  The man walked closer to stand over Ron, but his face was still fully concealed.

Gasping for breath, he managed to shake his head.  "No."

The wand was pointed at him almost instantly.  "Are you sure about that?"

Ron stared at it, trying his best to not notice that Hermione now appeared full to the brim of all the fear she'd been void of moments before.  For some reason, the fact that she was so afraid bothered him more than his own fear.  Gathering up a breath, he managed once again to defy the Death Eater.  "I'm not telling you anything."

"Crucio!" 

This time the spell seemed to hit with more force, and Ron actually cried out at the initial shock.  He felt like he was on fire; pain was burning him from the inside out, and all he could do was pray for it all to be over, pray that he would somehow pass out and not have to feel the twisting and burning of his insides anymore.

"Stop it!"  Hermione's shrill voice echoed in his head, but he couldn't move his head enough to see her.  She sounded absolutely terrified, though, and that seemed to triple the pain.  "Stop hurting him!"

The Death Eater's voice also joined the mix, now with the tone of someone who was trying to be coaxing.  "Would you care to cut a deal, Miss Granger?"

"Yes!" she shouted.  "Just stop!"

The Curse was lifted, and Ron let out what seemed to be the longest breath imaginable.  He realized that he'd been holding his breath in as a way to deter the pain. 

"Well, if you answer my question," said the Death Eater, now facing Hermione, "we won't have to use that lovely little method anymore."

Ron looked up frantically at Hermione, who was now twisting the hem of her shirt nervously.  It was clear that she had no clue what to do, so Ron tried to help her out.  "No, Hermione!"

She looked over at him, and he saw that there were tears glistening in her eyes.  She shook her head at him and turned back to their kidnapper.  "What question?" 


She was stalling; Ron could tell that she knew exactly what question, but he was positive that she was doing anything to buy them some time.  He hoped she could manage to buy some more.


"Where does Dumbledore hole Potter away when he's not around?" asked the Death Eater vengefully. 

Hermione didn't answer.  Her lips moved, but nothing came out.  It was almost as if she were completely faltering over which decision she should make.  What was wrong with her?  There was only one decision she could make.

"I..."  She looked over at Ron, and her face fell.  "I... can't tell you."

It was the right decision, of course, the only decision, but it didn't ease the horrifying pain at all when the Death Eater whipped around and once again sent the Cruciatus Curse at him.  A scream echoed, and Ron wasn't sure if it was his own or Hermione's; he wasn't able to comprehend anything except that he wasn't sure how much more of this agony he could endure.  His vision was clouding, and he was finding it hard to focus on anything, though he forced himself to listen to the conversation going on around him.

"Please stop!" Hermione sounded as if she were sobbing now, but he could no longer make out her face; all he could do was squeeze his eyes shut as tightly as possible.

"I'll stop when I get my answer."

"We're not going to tell you, damn it!" Hermione never swore.

"Then I'm not going to stop."


"Please!"  She was begging now, pleading even.  "Just please stop..."

The Death Eater laughed and, surprisingly, lifted the Curse.  "Had enough, Weasley?" he asked jovially.


Ron couldn't even respond.  He just pressed his face to the cold concrete beneath him and struggled to breathe.

"Would you like to switch places with the young miss?  Just say the word, and I'll let her take over for you."

Ron forced his head up and glared daggers at the other man.  "Fuck you," he spat out with the last of his breath.


"Repetitive, aren't you?"  The cloaked man shrugged.  "Very well.  I can be repetitive, too.  Crucio!"

The pain from the last time hadn't even receded before he was blinded with a whole new set of agony.  Seconds could have turned to minutes, minutes could have turned to hours; Ron had no idea.  He had no concept of anything now except for the throbbing that seemed to have taken over his whole body.  He could hear Hermione screaming something in the distance and heard what sounded like a struggle, but he couldn't make anything out.

Only the horrible, horrible pain...


And then he blacked out.

*********************************************************

 Hermione wasn't sure how she got back to the street with Ron's limp body because he was a lot taller than her and weighed quite a bit more than she did, but she somehow managed to drag him through the alley and up to the main road. 

The escape had been a narrow one and one she wouldn't likely forget any time in the near future.  After the last Cruciatus was thrown at Ron, she'd grabbed hold of the Death Eater's cloak and literally begged him to stop; of course, it was to no avail, and the Death Eater had simply laughed her.  He shouldn't have laughed, though.  He didn't know that she'd managed to grab a sharp piece of glass that happened to be lying discarded by a bin, but he moment he turned his back, she'd reached down and snatched it.  So when he was laughing at her in such close proximity, she'd done the only natural thing and jabbed the shard into his side.  Of course, he'd screamed in shock and let go long enough for her to shove the glass even sharper into him.  He doubled over in pain, and she managed to reach for his pocket and salvage Ron's and her wand before turning a Stunning Charm on him and rushing over to Ron's now unconscious body.  Balancing her bag on her shoulder, she somehow got his body up enough to where she could drag it as she was now.

She was completely out of breath when she dropped him unceremoniously onto the sidewalk.  She didn't take even a second, though, to catch her breath before she started screaming to the people on the street.

"Someone help!"

Several people stopped and stared at the pair of teenagers, one of which was unconscious and bleeding from the head, and the other who was covered in bruises and hysterical. 

"Please!" she yelled desperately.  "Please, somebody help!"

Within seconds, two wizards had rushed over to survey the situation.  They said something hasty to each other and together, carefully lifted his body into the air and started carrying him toward the nearest shop.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked quickly, pushing her way through the crowd and rushing after the men.  Panic rose inside of her at the sight of strangers taking him somewhere unknown.

"Getting him out of the heat and away from the crowd," said one dismissively as they kicked open the door to Ollivander's and took him inside.  "Now get out of the way."

Hermione bit back the retort; if they were helping Ron, she wouldn't do anything to get in the way.  She looked up to see Mr. Ollivander hurrying out of his back room to see what the commotion was.  "What's going on?"

One of the two wizards started explaining the situation; Hermione gathered from the bits and pieces that she picked up that they were Healer assistants.  At this, she was comforted, and because she at least recognized Mr. Ollivander, she made a haste decision and rushed for the door.

"Where're you going?"  The man who had dropped down to his knees and was examining Ron looked up as she opened the door.

"I'll be right back!" she called quickly and dashed from the wand shop and down the street.

She couldn't remember ever running as quickly as she did right then.  Her mind was surprisingly clear, and she focused only on getting where she was going as fast as possible.  The sign outside of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes was glittering as usual when she skidded to a halt in front of the double story store and burst through their doors.

"Fred!  George!"  She took in a great gulp of air and was prepared to call for them again, when they both appeared immediately in front of her.  Everyone else in the store stopped what they were doing and looked around at her to see who was making such a racket.

"Hermione, what's wrong?"  Fred stared at her with a look she wasn't used to seeing on his normally jovial face.  "Where did those bruises come from?"

Hermione looked from one to the other and struggled with how to tell them.  Finally, she realized that her brain wasn't working properly anyway, and she just blurted out, "Ron's hurt!"

Fred and George exchanged a look of solemn panic, and then George turned back to Hermione.  "Where is he?"

At this, Hermione lost her sanity and burst into tears.  All of the emotion she'd been feeling over the past hour seemed to explode, and she had to take several long steadying breaths before she managed to answer the question.  "At Ollivander's."

Fred turned around to one of the employees and said, "Julia, lock up the store."  Then he headed for the door in a half-fun; George grabbed Hermione's hand and followed.  Hermione was thankful that George was more pulling her down the street than forcing her to walk on her own because she wasn't quite sure if her legs were still working properly.

They reached the wand shop in no time, and they dashed into the store at full speed.

"Stay out!" barked one of the Healer assistants without bothering to look up.

"That's our brother," Fred said fiercely.

One of the wizards looked up and surveyed the new additions.  "Oh, good," he said shortly.  "St. Mungo's is sending an emergency van."

Fred and George still looked panicked, but they seemed slightly calmed by the actual sight of Ron.  "What happened?"  George looked over at Hermione quizzically.

She, however, could do nothing but cry, her on-end emotions still not soothed in the least. 

"Someone needs to get that little girl out of here," the same wizard who had yelled at them when they entered the store looked up at her with a look of disgust, causing her to do nothing except cry harder.

Fred jumped and put an arm protectively around her shoulder, a gesture she hadn't expected but that made her feel better nonetheless.  "You leave her alone," he shot back sharply.  Then he looked carefully at Hermione and said, "Do you know what happened?"

She took in several gulps of air and then managed to weakly make out the one word that terrified her.  "Cru...  Cruciatus."

There was an immediate silence in the room as all of its occupants stared wordlessly at each other.  Just as Hermione was sure that someone was going to ask her to elaborate, though, a large green van arrived out of nowhere just outside the door of Ollivander's.  The words 'St. Mungo's Emergency' were emblazoned on the side in bright pink.

Three witches rushed into the store, a stretcher levitating between them; Hermione recognized them as mediwtiches- the wizaring equivalent to Muggle paramedics. 

"Cause of injury?" asked one promptly; she was clutching a clipboard in one hand and a quill in the other. 

George glanced at his twin and then at Hermione before slowly repeating, "Cruciatus."

Once again, there was a silence, and all of the mediwitches looked momentarily stunned.  Quickly, though, she went right on with the questions as her two coworkers dropped to either side of Ron and carefully moved him to the stretcher.  "Cause of head injury?"

Everyone looked at Hermione, but she just shook her head and whispered honestly, "I don't know..."

They didn't ask her again; instead, the three witches just started levitating the stretcher out the door and to the van.  Fred, George, and Hermione rushed after them.

"Can we go with you?" Fred grabbed the arm of the witch with the clipboard, who Hermione now saw was wearing a name tag with Veronica on it.

"Only one," she said briskly.  "There's not enough room."

"You go on, Hermione," said George.  "We'll go tell Mum and then Apparate to the hospital."

She nodded wordlessly and moved to the back of the van where the other two wtiches were now climbing in behind the stretcher.  Veronica, though, stepped over and stopped her.  "Are you family?  Family only."

Not wanting to delay the process anymore, Hermione just shook her head and stepped backwards.  George, though, glared at Veronic and said, "She's his best friend.  Let her in the damn van."  His voice was harsh and cold and left no room for argument.

After hesitating a second, Veronica finally shrugged and said, "Fine.  But hurry up, we need to get back."

Hermione nodded and then glanced once more at the twins; they both offered her half-smiles, but she couldn't force any sort of grin onto her face as she climbed into the back of the van with the others.

The van sped off almost immediately in what felt remarkably like travelling on the Knight Bus.  Hermione took a seat beside one of the other mediwitches, while the third carefully removed the makeshift bandage from Ron's forehead and examining the wound. 

"Can you answer some basic questions?"  Hermione looked up to see the mediwitch beside her, a young woman with the name tag Elle.  Hermione noticed that her accent wasn't British, though she couldn't concentrate hard enough to figure out which country she was originally from.

She nodded slowly.  "Yeah, yeah, I'll try..."

"Name?"

"Ron Weasley."  She glanced over at Ron, who was still unconscious.  "W-E-A-S-L-E-Y."

Elle nodded.  "How old is he?"

"Sixteen."  Hermione had stopped crying, but she was no less nervous than she'd been while standing in the middle of Diagon Alley.

"And what's his birthday?"

"Uh, March 1, 1980."

"What about allergies?  Is there anything he's allergic to?"

Hermione shook her head.  "I don't think so, but I'm sure.  His mum'll be at the hosptial soon, so you better ask her."

She was prepared to try her hand at the other questions, but the bus skidded to an abrupt halt.  The doors of the van flew open, and Hermione spotted the back of St. Mungo's.  She wasn't sure how the hospital was accessible like this from the van since the only other time she'd ever visited St. Mungo's, she'd gone through a deserted department store.  However, she didn't have time to ponder this, as the stretcher started floating toward the door, and the mediwtiches headed after it.  Hermione started to follow, but Elle turned around and offered her a sympathetic smile.

"They won't let you in the room.  No one but his parents until he wakes up."

Hermione frowned and strained to see the disappearing stretcher carrying Ron.

"Why don't you go have a coffee or something?"

Hermione shook her head and stepped out of the vehicle.  "No, I'll just wait for his family, I think."

Elle nodded.  "Okay."  Then she offered another half-smile.  "He'll be alright.  Fourth floor, okay?"

Hermione nodded and watched as Elle turned and hurried after her coworkers.  Hermione took a deep breath and entered the hospital; the help desk was in the front room, and Hermione ignored the long line of people sporting various maladies.  She headed for the staircase and climbed it slowly to the fourth floor. 

To her surpise, the waiting room of that ward was completely empty.  She took a seat in one of the plastic chairs and picked up a copy of this month's Quibbler.  She didn't really pay attention to what she was reading, which she was sure a bunch of rubbish anyway.  But it was something to hold her attention long enough until the stairwell doors burst open again, and Mrs. Weasley rushed in, followed by Fred and George.

Hermione stood up immediately and dropped the magazine to the floor.  Mrs. Weasley rushed over to her and gripped her arm.  "Is he awake?"

"I... I don't know."  Hermione suddenly felt like crying again.  "They won't let anyone in besides his parents."

Mrs. Weasley nodded; her face was as white as Hermione could ever remember seeing it.  She brushed a strand of hair out of Hermione's face and held it there, staring at the bruise on her cheek.  "Has anyone checked you over?"

Hermione shook her head.  "No, no, I'm fine."

Mrs. Weasley stared at her for another moment before nodding and swallowing.  She then hurried off after a passing Healer, apparently determined to find Ron's room.

Hermione sat back down with the twins.  They sat in silence for a few minutes until Hermione finally said, "Is Ginny still at the football match?"

"No, she got  back about an hour ago, but she has to wait until Dad gets home and can fix a Portkey.  The Burrow's Floo is only connected to a few other private residences, and it doesn't go anywhere public anymore."

Hermione hadn't know then.  "How did Ron get to Diagon Alley then?"

"He took the Floo to our flat."  George reached down and picked up the discarded copy of The Quibbler. 

They sat around and chatted about mindless things for a few more minutes until Bill arrived with Fleur in tow.  Hermione rolled her eyes despite herself.

Ginny arrived with her father soon, and Mr. Weasley rushed off immediately to find Ron's room.  Ginny took an empty seat next to Hermione and patted her knee encouragingly.  She didn't seem nearly as upset as Hermione would have expected.

"He'll be okay, Hermione," she said seriously.  "I would know if he wasn't."

Hermione didn't know what Ginny meant, but she was calmed a bit nonetheless.  She nodded and studied her shoes as a thought occurred to her.  "Did anyone tell Harry?"

"Yeah, I think Mad-Eye is going to tell him.  I don't know if he'll be able to come, though."

It was important for Harry to know.  Of course, he was likely to blame himself completely and fall even deeper into depression about things that he considered himself.

She wouldn't think about that now.

"I wonder when he'll wake up," said Ginny absently, tugging at a loose string on the hem of her shorts. 

Hermione shook her head and glanced around the room, her eyes falling on one person in particular.  "I don't know, but maybe they should send Fleur in there," she dropped her voice.  "Ron'd wake up for that, I'm sure."

Ginny snickered and kept her eyes adverted.  "Probably not as fast as he'd wake up if they sent you in there."

Hermione felt her cheeks heat up and looked down quickly.  "Shut up, Ginny," she whispered, but a smile was threatening to play on her face.  Ginny knew certain secrets that nobody else did, and Hermione intended to keep it that way. 

Ginny grinned widely and nudged Hermione with her elbow.  "I speak only the truth."

Hermione kicked her.  Then they caught each other's eyes and broke into quiet giggles.

Two hours and a couple of cups of coffee later, Mr. Weasley reentered the waiting room; he looked very tired and exhausted, but his appearance immediately drew the attention of all the waiting room occupants.

"He's awake."

A collective sigh of relief sounded around the room.  Bill stood up, clutching Fleur's hand behind his back, and said, "Why was he knocked out for so long?"

"Well," Mr. Weasley sighed, "he had a head injury, too, and when the Curse hit him, he couldn't handle the mix of it and the blood loss."

"Right," said Fred, smirking.  "More like he pulled one of his attention-seeking stunts."

Everyone laughed in response; it was as though they were glad to have some sort of humor relief.

"You can go see him," said Mr. Weasley, still chuckling, "but try not to be too loud because Molly's about had it as it is."

Everyone nodded their understanding, and Ginny grabbed Hermione's hand.  Together, they followed everybody else down the hall to Ron's room; Hermione was suddenly quite nervous again.

They all squeezed into the tiny room; he'd been given a private room due to the seriousness of his injury cause.  Mrs. Weasley was sitting in a chair by the window, and Hermione couldn't help but notice that she looked as if she'd just been faced with her worst fear.  Ron, however, was sitting up in the bed and looking quite perfectly fine.  The bandage on his head was the only sign that anything at all was wrong.

"You stupid prat!"  Ginny let go of Hermione's hand and launched herself at Ron, wrapping him in a tight embrace.  "You better get out of here soon, or I'll have to degnome!"

Her brothers laughed, and Ron jerked out of her grasp.  "Do you mind?" he asked, gesturing at his head.  "I'm injured."

As the rest of his brothers took turns taunting him in that affectionate way that siblings had for each other, Hermione snuck another glance at Mrs. Weasley.  Her eyes were bloodshot, but her face was completely void of color.  She was staring at her children but without any sort of emotion on her face.  It was almost scary.

"You know Fleur, don't you?"  Hermione's head spun back so quickly that she almost cricked her neck.  Bill was apparently introducing his 'roommate' to his youngest brother.

"Oh, yes," said Fleur smiling.  "We met at 'ogwarts.  Do you remeember?"  Hermione scowled; her English was getting quite a bit better.

Ron had an almost dazed expression on his face as he nodded vaguely.  "Yeah...  Yeah, I remember..."

Ginny snorted and gave Hermione just enough of a shove to make her lose her footing; she stumbled in surprise, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room, including Ron.

He stared at her for a moment and then said, "You alright?"  He was eyeing her bruises oddly.

She nodded quickly and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.  "Yeah, fine," she mumbled quietly.

"Surprising, really," said Fred suddenly.  "Considering she hauled your heavy butt all the way back to Diagon Alley."

Ron stared at her in shock.  "You carried me?"

She shrugged indifferently.  "More sort of dragged, really..."

There was no time for any further inquiries because the door to the room opened again, and another visitor entered: Mad-Eye Moody.

"Everybody out," he said firmly.  "'Cept for you," both eyes spun to Hermione. 

The rest of the visitors did as Moody instructed; even Mrs. Weasley got up and left the room without protest.  Hermione had a very strong urge to follow them, but she didn't dare do anything except for exactly what Moody said.  She would be lying completely if she said she wasn't a bit scared of the ex-Auror.

"Sit," he said promptly, indicating the chair that Mrs. Weasley had been sitting in.  Hermione made a move to go to it, but Moody summoned it before she could even take a single step.  It shot across the room and stopped sharply right in front of her.  Without hesitating, she sat.

"Now, I want to know exactly what happened," he said gruffly, his eyes flittering between Hermione and Ron.  "And don't leave anything out."

Ron took the initiative to tell the story, and Hermione was surprised that he told it quite accurately.  She had a feeling that after a few more times of telling it, it would become insanely exaggerated.  He explained how neither of them remembered the actual kidnapping and how the Death Eater had tried to turn them against each other by using Cruciatus. 

"So, how did you get away?" Mad-Eye asked, eyeing them each at the same time when Ron finished the story.

"Um," Hermione swallowed slightly, "I stabbed the Death Eater with a broken piece of glass and then got our wands and Stunned him."

"You stabbed him?" Moody asked quickly, both eyes spinning around to Hermione, who found his gaze quite unnerving. 

Hermione swallowed nervously and nodded.

"Is he dead?" 

Hermione was horrified by the idea.  Shaking her head quickly, she said, "God, no!  I just stabbed him in his side so I could get our wands back.  I didn't kill anyone!"

Moody's face twisted up even more than normal.  Instead of being glad that she wasn't a murderer, he seemed mad.  "You knew the location of a Death Eater and you just left him there?  Why didn't you alert someone of his whereabouts immediately?"

Hermione opened her mouth to reply but found that she didn't know the answer. 

"That was incredibly stupid," Moody said harshly.  "I thought you were supposed to be the smart one."

"Hey!"  Ron had spoken up and looked completely shocked.  "We could both be dead if she hadn't gotten us out of there!"

Hermione was thankful for his comment, though it did nothing to calm her already frazzled nerves.

"Yeah, and you're damn well lucky you ain't," said Mad-Eye fiercely.  "What the hell were you two thinking, runnin' off all by yourselves?"

"We needed school supplies," said Ron defiantly.


"Well, somebody else'll have to get them now because you two ain't going nowhere until you go back to Hogwarts, you here me?  You're going with the Weasleys," he added to Hermione.  "I don't trust you where I can't keep an eye on you."

Hermione wanted to cry, and she didn't have the faintest clue why.  Maybe it was all of the day's events, maybe it was Mad-Eye's tone, maybe it was a mix of everything.  But she wanted to cry.

"Your folks are in Paris, no?" he asked, staring at her.  She nodded meekly but said nothing.  "Well, you'll go with Molly and Arthur until they get back, and then we'll get you to your house so you can get your things."

Hermione didn't have the willpower to do anything except nod once again.

"I'm going now," he said, watching them carefully.  "And don't let me hear of anymore stupid stunts like this one."

He left without another word, and all Hermione could do was pray that she would wake up in the morning and find out that the whole thing had been a nightmare.

********************************************************

A/N: I had more planned for here, but it was already long enough and I didn't want to bore you.

Feedback is appreciated!!!