Reviewers! Stahchild: I made you scream? Dang! Well hey, if you thought that chapter was crazy, check out this one. LOL E.A.V.: Thanks for the insightful comments. Hermione, to answer your question, didn't check the wards because I blew it. LOL Thanks for your queries. As it happens, I have a question for you. Is the apparition rule that you can't apparate INTO or OUT OF the castle, or is it INSIDE? I can't remember the wording that Snape used when he was seething so spectacularly in PoA and I've put my book 3 away somewhere. Could you please check the wording for me? If I've goofed then I'll remedy it, but I just want to make sure. IAm: Mind you don't get an infection in those hands. LOL Here's more. Thanks for the support! Angel: Oh, I'm so happy you liked Snape! He's a very difficult character to write. I tried to make him not just an evil bastard, but human, tired, and grumpy. Success! Whoo hoo! Shiba: Yay! Hermione thanks you for your help. LOL Enjoy.

CHAPTER SEVEN: Thieves

"LEGILIMENS!"

Hermione, not knowing Occlumency at all, had no hope of blocking Snape's attack. He shouted that awful word at her and it felt like someone had struck her in the face with a frying pan. There was a scream of fright (hers, she realized) and suddenly memories were flashing before her eyes in a blinding stream. Her third birthday party … Winning a spelling contest at eight … Nine years old, falling in a duck pond on a class outing … Eating a chocolate frog on the Hogwarts Express … Kissing Harry on the cheek at the end of fourth year … The memories were flying by almost too fast for her to catch, and then suddenly she could see herself talking to Ron on Sunday about Harry … and worse, horribly, their conversation just a few hours ago about her discovery.

Oh, not that! Don't look at that! She shrieked in her head, but that just made something burrow painfully into her mind.

"NO!" she hollered.

Right, as though a mere word could stop this. The attack kept pressing, tunneling its way into her brain with such force that she moaned. She couldn't stand it, couldn't take any more … and then it was over. Her legs gave out. She crumpled to the floor. Her head was aching so badly she thought she might cry.

Dizzy and miserable, she looked up at Snape from where she'd fallen. He was towering over her now, hands on his hips, a wicked smile playing about his face. He looked like Christmas had come early.

"Vivus Vitae, eh?" he sneered. "I knew Potter had to be doing something stupid, I just didn't know what. Thank you ever so much for clarifying that. By the way, I will report this to Professor Dumbledore and make sure that twit is expelled. Golden Boy or no, he can't go around taking illegal draughts."

"Don't … Don't know what you're … talking about," Hermione said, now feeling horribly queasy. The room began to spin. God, did Legilimency always cause nausea this bad? She couldn't even imagine what Harry had gone through last year.

Snape snorted. "Don't insult my intelligence, Miss Granger. Mr. Potter has braided enough rope to hang himself, you, and that infernal Weasley boy, wherever he is, so for Merlin's sake, just come clean. Who knows? I might even have mercy on the two of you and you'll only get suspended …"

Snape kept talking, but Hermione wasn't paying attention anymore. How on earth could she get out of this? She assumed Ron was still "guarding" the hall, the word "guarding" very much in quotes, and Snape was … still blathering, now looking quite pleased with himself for his dirty trick.

Hermione began to shake. A frighteningly powerful emotion was racing through her: pure, unadulterated rage. That unctuous bastard had just … raped her mind, for lack of a better phrase. And now he was smiling about it.

Well that, she decided, was going to stop immediately.

Snape's shouting got Ron's attention outside. He stood up and tried to listen at the open doorway. Still under the invisibility cloak, he was mostly hidden from view.

More arguing. Another shout. And then suddenly a wave of magic hit him full-on, whistling through his bones. Someone had just cast an incredibly powerful spell.

This was followed by the distinctive, shrill scream of his female best friend. Ron felt his breath catch in his chest. That couldn't be good. He had to do something.

Plan B! Of course, there had been no Plan A, but … details, really. Ron looked around for Filch. Not seeing anyone, he took off the invisibility cloak and shoved it into his schoolbag. On Hermione's advice, he'd taken it with him on this little mission. They'd need somewhere to put their stolen ingredients.

He slung his schoolbag over his shoulder and took a quick peek into the classroom. Snape was just standing there, his back to the doorway, his shoulders tense with effort.

And Hermione was on the floor.

It took all the willpower Ron possessed not to yell her name and go barging in. Whipping back around the corner, he hugged the wall and stared out at the hall, wide-eyed. Snape had caught Hermione. Snape was doing something very bad to Hermione. This entire thing was going to hell. What was he supposed to do now?

He glanced around. There was a decorative fireplace about twenty feet down the hall, and something glittering next to it. On instinct, he ran for it. The glittering item turned out to be a stand which held an ornate golden set of fireplace tools: a poker, a long-handled brush, and a shovel. Ron's face curled into a grim smile.

So he thinks he's the be-all and end-all of deviousness, does he? Hermione thought. Well, he'd better think again.

Hermione was not the brightest student in her year for nothing. She recalled a spell that she had taught herself after seeing its effects the summer of her fourth year. It was dangerous and difficult to control, so she had sworn that she would use it only in emergencies. This definitely counted. Harry's safety and school career were both in jeopardy unless she did something. Besides, how dare this bastard think he could just waltz into her head and pull out information?

All she needed was one clean shot. She wasn't dizzy anymore, but in order to pull this off she had to make a good feint. Staggering slowly to her feet, making a big show of looking off-kilter and nauseous, she bit her tongue to keep from laughing at Snape's raised eyebrows. Then she stumbled forward dramatically. Snape gripped her shoulders and guided her to the middle of the room, away from the workstations. He stood and faced her, his back to the open door.

"Stay where you are," he said in annoyance. "Everyone reacts differently to Legilimency, and I don't want you vomiting on anything valuable."

Hermione pretended to gasp and cough. She licked her lips, looking at him with what she hoped was helpless anger in her eyes, and again swayed dangerously on her feet. Snape gripped her shoulders in irritation and held her still.

"Before I report you," Snape said, "Do you have anything to say to me?"

"Yes I do," Hermione said softly, in a crackly, weak voice, gathering her concentration. Ten minutes, she chanted in her head, as she again pretended to struggle wildly for balance, clutching her wand tightly. Ten minutes. Ten minutes.

It only took half a second. She stood up ramrod straight, threw Snape's arms off her, pointed her wand at his very surprised face and shouted …

"OBLIVIATE!"

The effect was immediate. Snape looked hypnotized. His normally scowling countenance had gone slack, and he looked far more approachable for it, but Hermione didn't have much time to contemplate this. Yes, the man was an ogre, and yes, she'd obliviated him, but he was the sort that didn't miss anything. He would eventually realize that he had ten minutes of blank time and begin to wonder what happened.

It was a risk Hermione could not afford to take. Snape, for his part, looked as though he was struggling towards lucidity. Good. As soon as he could talk, she had to implant a memory to cover the ten minutes. A "false alarm, I was on patrol, heard you shout and came running" story would explain her presence here quite nicely.

"Miss Granger?" Snape asked vaguely, shaking his head slightly. There was a charming innocence in his oily voice that Hermione had never heard before. "What's happ-"

CLANG!

Snape's dark eyes rolled up in his head and he pitched sideways, crumpling to the floor in a heap. Ron was standing behind him, heaving for breath and holding a golden fireplace shovel, his schoolbag slung over one shoulder.

"Herms, are you all right?" Ron asked.

Hermione's mouth dropped open. She stared at him, then at Snape (who had just passed out peacefully on the floor), then back at him.

"Not really!" she said, her voice rising as she panicked. "Damn it, Ron, what the hell did you just do?"

Ron snorted. "Oh nothing, I just saved your life is all!"

Hermione made an indistinct noise of frustration. "No you didn't! And don't call me Herms, it chafes!"

Ron scratched his head, processing her first sentence and ignoring the second. "I … didn't?"

"No!" Hermione insisted. He still looked totally baffled. So she attempted to explain, although she was getting angrier by the second. "Snape legilimized me, so I obliviated him, and you stormed in here and knocked him out before I could finish the spell! You idiot!" she snapped.

Ron apparently wasn't that concerned about Hermione's spell or her fury. "He did what?!" he responded, appalled. "That bastard! That's completely illegal! You can't just legilimize students! What in the name of Merlin was he thinking?"

"Nothing reasonable," Hermione said truthfully. "I don't think I've ever seen him that ferocious or discombobulated. Well, there was that one time in third year, but …"

"Does he know about Harry?" Ron interrupted.

"I'm not sure. I told you, I tried to cast a memory charm on him," Hermione spat. "But now I don't know what he'll actually remember because you, like a prat, bumbled in and ruined it!"

"How did I ruin it?" exclaimed Ron.

Hermione growled at him. "He passed out before he could hear the new memory I'd made for him to replace the old one! I could have had him convinced that a false alarm had brought him down here, he shouted, you and I came running, etcetera, and just let him just toddle off to bed so we could try to get at the storage again, but oooooh, no! You had to come up behind him and smack him with a ruddy shovel! Now what are we going to do!"

They both stood there in silence for a moment, Hermione heaving with rage and frustration, Ron staring sullenly at the ground and twirling the shovel on its point. He looked rather disappointed with himself. Finally, he made eye contact.

"Now we get what we came for," he said.

Hermione snorted dismissively. "And then what? Leave Snape laying on the floor for the poor house-elves to find?"

Ron ignored that comment. "Look," he said, digging in his schoolbag and producing three small sacks. "You take care of the ingredients. I'll figure out something to do with Snape."

Hermione eyed him suspiciously.

"I'll keep watch over him while you're in there," he said.

"Just mind that's all you do," she warned, and ran for the door to the private stores. "Alohomora!" she said quietly, brandishing her wand and putting plenty of intention behind the spell. Nothing happened.

She tried again, with the same result. Then suddenly Snape's words filtered back to her.

"You thought it would be a lark to test the wards I set up!"

The wards … he set up the wards! His wand! That was the key! Hermione ran over and grabbed Snape's wand where it lay next to him on the floor. She hurried back to the door, and, using it, said the spell again with all the focus she possessed.

The latch clinked open.

"Yes!" said Ron. "All right, what do we need?"

"Carrow Lily Root, Knurfle Paste, and Kelpie Scales," Hermione said distractedly.

She stopped on her way to the door, turned, and gave Snape a glance that looked just a bit like pity. Then she motioned at the unconscious teacher almost in disbelief.

"That's your mess, you," she barked at Ron. "I suggest you clean it up!"

"Yes, Mum," Ron muttered as she disappeared through the door.

He was now alone in the creepy, cold classroom with an equally creepy, cold (and now motionless) Potions Master. Ron glanced at him, secretly a bit glad that Hermione's plight had produced this opportunity. Snape was no longer his professor, so braining him with a shovel had been like drinking one of those newfangled Diet Butterbeers: utterly satisfying and nearly guilt-free.

Ron began to whistle tunelessly as he picked through his bag, wondering how he could make good on his promise to Hermione. They couldn't just magic Snape back into bed in his chambers, because none of the students knew where he lived. So they would have to leave him here. But how could possibly they do it without it looking suspicious?

Ron pondered this as he rummaged through his things. He hadn't unpacked today, so his bag was stuffed with parchment, quills, the invisibility cloak, and still weighed down with … other stuff. He took out the heaviest item in his schoolbag to lighten the load.

Just then, Hermione came barreling out of the storage room. The three tiny bags were all full, sealed, and magically labeled. She spelled the door shut with Snape's wand and hurried over.

"Come on, Ron, let's get out of here," she said. She knelt at Snape's side and put his wand back in the pocket of his dressing gown.

But Ron didn't answer her. He was too busy admiring what he'd pulled from his bag: the bottle of Firewhisky he'd nicked from behind Harry's armoire. He looked at the bottle, then at Snape, then back at the bottle.

"I've got an idea," he said.

Hermione stood up and glared sourly at him. "Ron, you don't have ideas, you have impulses." She pointed again at Snape's prone form. "Exhibit A. We are leaving, now, before you have another one."

"Not just yet," Ron said, shaking his head stubbornly and heading for the nearest sink.

And with that, he opened the bottle of Firewhisky. Next to the sink was a pile of clean towels. He grabbed one and soaked it liberally with the liquor. Then he dumped three-quarters of the bottle down the drain, so there was only a little left inside.

Hermione watched this bizarre action and hissed, "What are you doing?"

"Cleaning up my mess," Ron hissed back. "Here, put this on his desk."

He tossed the Firewhisky cap to a mystified Hermione, who did as she was asked. Ron, meanwhile, knelt next to Snape. He brushed the cloth gently over the Potion Master's hooked nose, bravely parted his teacher's lips and sponged his yellow teeth with it, drizzled some of the whiskey into his greasy hair, and even dripped some onto his pajama shirt. Then he gently slid the now nearly-empty bottle into Snape's limp right hand.

"All right," Ron said. "Let's go."

He looked up just in time to see Hermione's jaw drop for the second time in as many minutes. And then she stared at him for a moment with the queerest expression he had ever seen.

"Who are you and what have you done with Ronald Weasley?" she asked.

Ron just grinned. He grabbed his shovel, tugged on her hand, and soon they were tearing out of the Potions classroom. Together, they pulled the door shut and ran for their lives back to Gryffindor Tower.

They stopped just down the hall from the Fat Lady to smooth down their hair and clothes. Ron couldn't stop smirking as he looked at Hermione. Hermione, in turn, kept smirking as she looked at Ron. She cracked first, giggling nervously. He joined her. They couldn't stop laughing for the longest time.

Hermione couldn't believe what they had just done. It was mad. It was sneaky. It was wrong. It was so utterly un-Gryffindor.

It was exhilarating.

"You know," she said finally, when both had rid themselves of the giggles, "What you did back there was very, very stupid, but you did save me from him. And your cover-up was surprisingly brilliant, I must say. So … thank you."

Ron beamed. "What's this I hear? Now you're thanking me for saving your life?"

"Well, you didn't exactly save my life …" Hermione began, rolling her eyes.

"But I did save you," Ron pressed.

"Yes," Herimione said, her lips twitching. "Yes, you did."

"I believe you owe me a reward, then," Ron said.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "We're friends! What do you need a reward for?"

"Time spent worrying about you," Ron said, a smug grin now playing about his face.

He was plotting something, it was as plain as the freckles on his nose. Hermione decided to humor him.

"Oh, fine," she said, with only a touch of her usual annoyance. "What do you want, then? Candy? Some pranks from Zonko's?"

Ron looked slightly affronted. "Tch. No!" He paused, very uncomfortably, and then said, "Halloween Dance. With me. Will you go?"

Hermione leaned against the wall and stared at him. Even after she sorted out his miserable syntax, it took her a minute to get her bearings.

Go to the dance with Ron? She distinctly remembered telling him "no" a few days ago. Honestly, the boy had the memory of a gnat. Besides, what did he want to take her for? They would probably walk in together, he'd get distracted by some pretty girl, abandon her in about five minutes, and leave her fuming and unhappy for the rest of the night. Ron was Ron, after all … girl-mad and horribly stupid about it. However, he was her friend, and he had saved her arse back there. She couldn't let him walk through those doors alone.

And anyway, maybe everything would work out differently. Really, as well as she thought she knew Ron, in spite of her jokes about his abysmal revision skills and his poor grades … he'd been quite brilliant tonight. Perhaps there was more to this tall, underachieving redhead than met the eye. Perhaps she'd just seen a flash of it. Perhaps, if she went to the dance with him, she'd see a flash of it again.

"All right," she said. And she smiled.

TBC

So they've got the ingredients. And Ron did something ingenious! Whose minds did I blow? Raise your hands! LOL Here it is … your overly-dramatic teaser.

Will the potion work? Will Harry suspect? And what will happen to Snape? Find out in the next thrilling installment of Fizz! Coming soon!

Thanks, as always, for reading. You all rock! - Kiki