A/N: I know I haven't updated in ages – and I am sincerely sorry. Anyway, continuing on with the story – you might want to read the previous chapters to remind yourself what is going on here.

Disclaimer: If HP was mine, I wouldn't be writing this now. Yeah…it's not mine.

Hermione was humming to herself gently, spinning wool for the servants' tunics. It was a soft grey colour that her mother had liked so much and had insisted everyone wear. Agnes sat on a stool opposite her chatting to her. It was dark in the loom shed and a bit dingy – it hadn't been used in a good while and Maria, in charge of the wool was bit of a delinquent.

"I'm sorry my lady," she kept on repeating.

Hermione waved off her apologies and wearily began to spin, after a good few mess-ups, as spinning wasn't part of the curriculum at Hogwarts. She had finally got the basics of it when she was interrupted. A frown crossed her brow.

"What is it?"

"The visitors are here. They've come."

Hermione rose reluctantly from her stool.

"The rushes in her must be changed Maria." She told the girl while leaving, Agnes followed her.

Lord Hurst had two sons with him; one was a stocky well built man and the other was a thin wispy looking boy. Neither of them appealed to Hermione much. She made them welcome and treated them to the noon day meal, hoping that they would leave.

No such luck.

The guests had made themselves comfortable, already drinking her ale and eating her meat flavoured with her herbs. Hermione was never a selfish girl but she did like to be respected. And she was the mistress of her father's fortune now. She didn't need a husband to keep unwelcome visitors out. Did she? Well, apparently, according to Agnes, she did.

"Make them leave Agnes!" Hermione hissed in her ear during dinner. The three 'gentlemen' were all merrily drunk and were groping at her maids.

Hermione cringed.

"Hermione, they won't leave until you explicitly tell them to leave. Even then…" Agnes trailed off and lowered her voice further. "They might not respect you enough."

Hermione glared at her three visitors.

Damn them.

Lord Hurst grabbed a serving girl's bottom. Hermione stood up and cleared her throat.

"My Lord."

Lord Hurst turned his drunken eyes toward her. "Yes m'lady?" he slurred.

Hermione turned her head disgustedly and briskly walked out of the hall.

Lord Hurst laughed.

Hermione's hands fisted at her sides as she turned back to face him.

"My Dear Lord Hurst – I am sure you have had a fine time here at Ipswich castle but our ale is running low and our meat turning scarce. I am afraid we cannot accommodate you further and must ask you to leave."

Lord Hurst blinked stupidly and stood up shakily. "Pardon m'lady?"

"I said,"

"Father, it is plain that Lady Hermione cannot accommodate us further at her castle. She has been thoroughly generous already and I think," one of his sons began uncertainly

"It doesn't matter what you think boy!" Lord Hurst snapped at his son and turned back to Hermione.

"But my dear lady…you are without a Lord." He said mockingly.

"I really don't see how that matters."

"Oh but it does…our King Edward wishes…"

"I know what his majesty wishes. But I will make the choice myself in due course and to put it frankly, you have overstayed your welcome. I would therefore prefer you leave early next morning."

Hermione lifter her head a little and stared at Lord Hurst straight in the eye.

Lord Hurst burst out in to loud laughter. "Why Lady Hermione, you are doing an excellent job of running the keep…I really don't see how King Edward had to send us here to 'test you' as he put it." Lord Hurst continued laughing, followed by his sons.

Hermione started to redden. The king has overlooked her and sent three men to TEST HER?!

"Oh don't worry – I'll give an excellent report back to the king." Lord Hurst winked and sat back down at the table. Hermione had no idea what to do and just decided to leave.

"Oh come now, Lay Hermione – don't leave the feast now." Several people form the table said merrily. The soldiers had gone back to groping her maids.

Men.

They never change.

Next day, Lord Hurst and his sons left, Hermione bid them farewell and told them they were welcome to stay anytime they chose.

"I have to say Agnes. I have never been so glad to see the back of someone before. Now if I could only convince the others to leave as well…"

"Well it is nice to have one's house to oneself again."

"Not quite." Hermione looked over her shoulder to the myriad of men. They were still eating her food.

Harry came up to her quite urgently, looking anxious.

"Could you help me?"

"What is it?"

"Ron is sick."

Hermione was almost heartless enough to say "Let him fester and die then.". But Harry was giving her a pleading look.

"Alright then. Where is he?"

Harry led Hermione up the solar stairs in to the men's quarters. The men's quarters were quite crowded – which explained why they so frequently spent their nights drinking away down at the great hall. Ron occupied a bed next to the windows, which was a blessing for him – the cool breeze ruffled his fiery hair while he groaned.

Hermione examined him for a few minutes and recognised immediately his symptoms as dyspepsia. Otherwise know as indigestion. But she frowned in mock concern and examined him for a longer time sighing and tsking.

"Well it looks like a serious case of dyspepsia." She said grimly.

"Is it bad?"

"Oh yes." She replied, nodding fervently, her brown eyes twinkling mischievously.

Ron looked greener and sicker than before. "Is there a cure?" he gasped.

Hermione crossed her arms clinically and tried to look grim. "Yes…but only the strongest of men survive it."

Harry blanched.

"He will have to take some bitter herbs…and stay off food for a week at least and drink nought but water."

Ron didn't look happy and raised himself on his elbows. He looked a little suspicious – no doubt he was under the impression that food was good. Under any circumstances.

"Are you sure?"

"Well, if you don't want my help…" Hermione shrugged and turned away. Harry grabbed her arm.

"He's just being stupid. Shut your cakehole Ron."  Harry pushed Ron back on the bed.

"What does he have to do?"

Hermione was touched by Harry's concern for his friend.

"Just a few days off solids. It's mild really. But don't tell him that or else he'll start gorging himself again." She whispered in Harry's ear.

Ron was looking at her with his eyes narrowed from the bed.

After giving Ron some herbs, Hermione went into her room and bolted the door and crawled under her huge four poster bed. From beneath it, she pulled out a big wooden chest – filled with her magic things. She took out her carefully hidden wand from the folds of her robes and tapped the chest lid three times. The lid sprang open, revealing her hard-gotten books and her potions supplies, telescope, charts and her prized invisibility cloak. She fingered the watery silky material for some time and carefully took out her potions supplies. She had promised to send Alice some freckle remover. Out side her window, she could see her owl perched upon the willow branch. She looked Hermione a little reproachfully, as if accusing Hermione that she had to stay outside and live in a tree and not a cage like all civilised delivery owls did. Hermione smiled and opened the window,

"Don't worry; I'll give you something to deliver to Alice later." She gave the owl a gentle pat and went back to her cauldron.

Muttering to herself, Hermione carefully brewed the potion and poured it into a vial and corked it with a little stopper.

"There." She said satisfactorily. She took out some parchment, quills and ink from her drawer to write Alice a short note but jumped a mile when she heard a knock at her door and nearly knocked over the vial. Fear ran through her, she was sure to be burnt at the stake if someone were to run into her brewing a potion. Trying to keep her voice steady, she cleared her throat,

"Agnes is that you?"

"It's Ron."

Her eyes went wide.

"Just, just wait a moment please!"

Hermione looked around her room in panic. With a wave of her wand, she put out her magical fire and grabbed the cauldron and pushed it under her bed. Grabbing her chest of potions supplies, she shoved that under the bed too.

"Lady Hermione?"

"Ow!" she bumped her head against the bed post in her haste to get up from her crouching position.

"A moment pleases kind sir!" she called out.

She banged her lid shut and kicked the chest under her bed, hurting her foot. Finally, she straightened her gown and brushed her unruly curls out of her face and unbolted the door.

Ron looked a little better, but was holding some nasty looking brown pellets in his hands.

"Am I supposed to eat this?" he asked in a half disgusted manner.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yes."

Ron's face screwed up in disgust.

"It looks like rabbit droppings!"

"It's dried bitter herb paste. It will help you."

Ron did not look convinced.

"Alright then, come here – I'll crush them for you into a powder – then you might put it in water or your porridge." Hermione led Ron in to her room and sat him down on a stool.

"Wait a moment please."

She opened her drawers and took out her ceramic grinding bowl.

"Here, give me the herbs."

But Ron was paying attention to something else. He was staring up at her drawers, mouth open in silent recognition. Hermione followed his gaze and found her wand.

Oh dear.

A/N: I think that was a cliffy – but we all know the Ron's a wizard too so Hermione can't be in THAT much trouble. Review!