A/N: And here's the next chapter! Thank you so much to those who reviewed! It's much appreciated! :)

Chapter 3:

Ron groaned as he was unceremoniously dropped to the ground. His vision was hazy and his head throbbed from when the creature had struck him. He assumed that he had received a bad concussion and decided to try and not fall asleep again. The foul smell of the creatures burned his nose and he didn't think he'd ever get used to it.

When the creature struck out at him Ron was pretty sure that it was going to be a death blow. But he had regained consciousness with an agonizing headache being carried over the shoulder of one of the creatures as they ran through the forest. His hair was matted with dried blood and occasionally his wound would reopen and slowly ooze but he did not think he was in any life-threatening condition.

The creatures had been carrying him for two days now, not counting the time that he was unconscious since he didn't know how long that had been. Ron had no idea where they were taking him and what they were going to do with him. They were still within the same forest, but that didn't mean much to Ron. He had no choice but to go with them as his hands and feet were bound and when he wasn't being carried he was tied to a tree so he couldn't escape, not that he had the energy to do so anyway.

Since the three creatures were here with him Ron clung to the hope that Hermione had gotten away. That is, of course, assuming that she had not been captured by the other creatures. Ron also worried that she had lost too much blood from her wound. Hermione was smart, though, she'd be able to fix it.

Ron knew he wasn't much of a thinker, unless it was for chess, but for the past few days all he could do was think. He had many questions buzzing around his mind but to his annoyance Ron couldn't answer any. Hermione was the smart one of the group, she'd have figured out everything in seconds with that amazing brain of hers. She probably already had a plan of attack.

But that's even if she's still alive.

Even Harry, who was not the most academic, still would have figured out some answers by now. But was Harry even still alive? Ron didn't even know when they lost him. Harry was strong though. He always was able to survive against the worst odds. Ron had faith in his best friend. Harry would save him.

The creatures started a fire and one of them went away to hunt for some food. Every now and then they would look at Ron and give a leery grin but other than that they left him alone. When the creature returned with some food Ron's stomach growled loudly. The creatures laughed at him and gave him no food, not that Ron expected it. Although he had become used to the lack of food when they were on the hunt for horcruxes he had never gone this long without something to eat. He was allowed to drink from the occasional stream that they passed but that's all he got.

Accepting that he'd not get any food that night Ron tried to make himself comfortable between some of the roots of the tree he was tied to. He brought his knees up to his chest and hugged himself for warmth because the fire was too far away to be of any use. Hopefully when he slept his head would heal faster and he'd build up his energy reserves. If things went south then he'd need all of the energy he could get to escape.

The first few pale rays from the sun were peeking through the thick canopy when Ron was kicked awake. He gave an involuntary cry of pain as the iron boot smashed into his side, immediately becoming alert and on the defensive. The creature laughed in sadistic amusement at Ron's pain as it untied the rope around the tree.

Ron clenched his teeth in anger, just wishing he had his wand with him. He licked his dry and cracked lips as he imagined killing these creatures. A simple Avada Kedavra would be too kind on these monsters, Ron wanted to cause them pain. If he ever found out that they had even touched Hermione there would be no place on Earth that these creatures could hide from him.

The monster roughly threw Ron over its shoulder like a sack and set off with its companions. Each step caused a flash of pain through Ron's newly injured side and he fervently hoped that none of his ribs were broken.

To keep his mind from dwelling on the agony his body was in, Ron looked to his surroundings in an attempt to figure out where he was. The trees around him still looked the same as they had when Ron had first come to this place. Old trees, with thick gnarled roots protruding from the ground and trunks wider than any in the Forbidden Forest. Ron sighed a hopeless sigh. He wasn't Hermione, he couldn't figure it out.

Ron was wrenched from his thoughts as the three creatures suddenly stopped. There was a quick guttural conversation before they peered out into the surrounding forest, fingering their weapons nervously. Something had them on edge, and Ron didn't know if that was a good thing. Ron lifted his head and strained to see anything out of the ordinary. There was nothing. But he could feel it, a subtle tension in the air. It was menacing and dangerous. Ron couldn't help the cold sweat that broke on his forehead, or was it just fever? The world did seem a bit blurry, hazy around the edges.

Ron's sight seemed to spin, the dark greens and browns of the forest blurred together. He started to panic, he couldn't see. The world stopped spinning and Ron realised he was laying on the ground. The rich earthy scent from the dirt was a welcome relief from the putrid stench of the creatures. Did the monster drop him? He moved his head to the side, the world spinning once again as he did so, and saw the creature standing there with its weapon raised.

It is afraid. Why is the creature afraid? What is there?

Ron strained to hear anything that could cause the creatures fear. But there was nothing. Just silence. He meant to raise his head to see, but he felt weighed down. It was as though some unseen force had settled on top of him, refusing to let him move. Darkness clawed at the edge of his vision, he could not focus his sight.

The creature that had been carrying him suddenly jerked and fell to the ground, felled by some unseen foe. Ron could feel it then, the magic that hung in the air. The dangerous magic focused on the creatures, yet so calming toward him. Ron's sight was filled with darkness but he saw the figure emerge from the trees. It was glowing, the white light so bright that it burnt. He could feel the magic rolling off them in powerful waves. Ron couldn't see except for the blinding light, but he knew, he was saved and he was safe.

Harry has come. Ron thought with a smile on his face as the darkness finally claimed him.

Hermione was irritable. Her whole body ached from riding. The past days had blurred together as the scenery remained unchanging. Hermione knew that they must have covered quite a distance yet the only change in her surroundings was that the great forest she had appeared in was no longer in her sights.

Days were spent on horseback, riding from sunrise to sunset with few chances at rest. Éomer was her constant companion. Hermione still continued to ride with him and Éomer constantly talked to her, pointing out different sights along the way. She only half listened to him and mostly let the unfamiliar language wash over her as her thoughts whirled around her mind. Éomer ate with her, always making sure she had plenty to eat and drink.

Hermione's nights were usually spent around the fire, with Éomer, or alone in her borrowed bedroll. Around the campfire the men shared stories or sang songs. They had the bond of brotherhood, and Hermione felt very much the outsider. It was in these times she would retreat to her bedroll and gaze up at the starry sky. Depressing thoughts would come unbidden to her mind and a few stray tears would fall. Her dreams were often invaded by nightmares filled with Death Eaters, Horcruxes and dead friends. Hermione would wake in tears too afraid to fall back asleep. This left her feeling drained, with little hope in her heart.

The sun was almost upon its zenith when the company of riders stopped for a rest. Éomer helped Hermione down from his horse then led her to a rock to sit on. Hermione stubbornly refused to be carried even though her leg injury was still quite painful, but relished the chance to stretch her cramping muscles.

When she had risen that morning Hermione felt a change in the men and horses. They were more relaxed and carefree and the horses had acquired an additional burst of energy. She hoped that this meant they were closing in on their destination, wherever that was. Hermione hoped that wherever they were headed had a bath, a bed and some decent food. It was too much to ask for it to have someone who understands English.

She also craved female company. The men were being nice, kind and attentive to her but it was with a reserved quality, as if it was expected of them. Their behaviour led Hermione to believe that this was some kind of medieval society where women were there to be seen and not heard. Hermione was used to being around males all the time since Harry and Ron were her best friends, but she still had female company at Hogwarts.

Éomer handed Hermione a chunk of bread then sat down beside her. He immediately started chatting away about nothing in particular. Occasionally he would look at her and Hermione would smile and nod her head pretending to be listening, but her thoughts were always elsewhere.

It wasn't long before the party once again set off on their journey. Hermione prayed that they would reach their destination soon as she was reaching the end of her tolerance for horse riding. Not only was it painful and uncomfortable but it was incredibly slow compared to apparating or even driving.

It was several long hours later when Éomer suddenly stopped talking. This caught Hermione's attention immediately. She quickly scanned the surroundings for any imminent threat, but couldn't see anything. As the party reached the top of the small hill that they were riding up Hermione saw the distinct outline of a city. Her alertness was quickly replaced with relief. She could almost cry with joy. That night she could possibly have a bed to sleep in with a nice dinner and a bath. Éomer laughed at Hermione's reaction to seeing Rohan's capital city, Edoras.

Knowing that they would arrive at the city before nightfall, Hermione forgot her aching body and irritableness. Éomer started talking once again probably about the city that they were heading to. Hermione had to admire the fact that he had kept up a total one sided conversation the whole way. He was either trying to distract her with something or he just loved to talk to himself since it was clear that most of the time he wasn't talking to the other men.

The great wooden gates were opened to let the men and their horses in. Hermione looked around at the city. It was a simple city, nothing like the cities from back home, but it was beautiful in a rustic way. The structures and layout seemed medieval and so did the people. The buildings were made from wood and stone and had clearly been built years ago. The main streets were cobbled but most other paths were dirt. Women were wearing long practical dresses and the men were wearing tunics. Some stared and greeted the riders as they entered but their attention was drawn to Hermione. Her cheeks became flushed with all the attention that she was receiving and was reminded about her dirty appearance as well as her out of place clothes.

After Éomer had given his horse over to the stable boy he took Hermione to the healer. When they got their Éomer spent a few minutes talking to the motherly woman while gesturing to Hermione. He then turned to Hermione saying a few things, gave her a smile and then left.

While the healer took in Hermione's appearance she did the same. The healer was most likely in her forties but she had a kind face with few wrinkles. She had long greying blonde hair that was braided around her head. She had kind blue eyes and a soft expression. The healer wore a simple brown dress and apron with some worn leather boots.

After a few seconds the healer introduced herself as 'Lieve' with a genuine smile. She got Hermione to sit on the bed then undid the bandage on her leg. Although Hermione was sure that Éomer had told Lieve that she didn't understand their language, Lieve merrily chatted away as she worked on Hermione's injury.

Hermione curiously watched Lieve work, twinging every now and then in pain. Like most other things in this strange world, the medical profession was also clearly medieval. There were many herbs and salves around the room and a few bone and iron surgical instruments. Hermione mentally reminded herself to heal her leg herself when nobody was looking, she didn't want to chance an infection.

After she was done Lieve showed Hermione the bath then laughed at Hermione's excitement. She showed Hermione where the soaps and towels were then left the room. When the door was shut Hermione practically ripped off her clothes then jumped into the bath. The water was nice and warm and she grabbed a bar of soap and started washing all the blood and dirt from her body.

After she had thoroughly scrubbed her body and washed her hair, Hermione leant back against the bath and closed her eyes. The warm water was the perfect thing to soothe her saddle sores and aching muscles.

As she lay in the water Hermione let her mind wander. Rohan reminded her of Hogwarts in a way. Even though Hogwarts was full of magic, it was built during medieval times and continues to be far behind in technology from the rest of the modern world. It was a great stone castle which wouldn't look too out of place here. Hermione began to reminisce over her first few years at Hogwarts. While she had the odd adventure with her two best friends, Hogwarts was fun, and safe. There was no Voldemort, Death Eaters or wizarding war. Just her, Harry, Ron and her beloved classes.

A tear slid down her face and fell into the water causing small ripples. Hermione looked in confusion as another tear fell. Then everything seemed to hit her at once. All the negative emotions she had been suppressing since the start of the war burst to the surface. Hermione hugged her knees and sobbed. She wept for her dead friends and family, for all those affected by the war, for her dear sweet friends Harry and Ron, for the failure of their horcrux quest, for the bizarre and hopeless situation she was now in, and lastly for herself.

Hermione's cries must have alerted Lieve because the next thing Hermione knew was that she was being held and someone was murmuring soothing words. Lieve held Hermione until her sobs diminished. Like drawing poison from a wound, the release of her pent up emotions left Hermione feeling much better.

The bath water had long gone cold and goose bumps had begun to appear on Hermione's bare skin. She felt completely embarrassed that she had completely broken down, in the bath, naked, while being comforted by an old woman. The more Hermione thought about it, the more embarrassed she became. Her face flush with embarrassment, Hermione turned to face Lieve and profusely apologised. Lieve just smiled with sympathy and understanding in her eyes.

Lieve held up a towel for Hermione who gratefully got out of the cold bath. As Hermione began to dry herself Lieve gave a sudden gasp of horror. Before she could react, Lieve had pulled Hermione's arm towards her. Then Hermione understood and bent her head in shame, subtly shielding the other curse scar on her chest from view. On her arm it was blood red, standing out in stark contrast to her pale skin and was the reminder of her time as a guest of Bellatrix Lestrange. The word 'mudblood' was carved into her skin on her forearm.

Not wanting to think about her time in Malfoy Mansion, Hermione yanked her arm out of Lieve's and looked at her pleadingly. Lieve had tears in her eyes even without knowing what was said in that strange language. She seemed to understand Hermione's plea as she gestured for her to stay, then left the room.

Hermione sighed as she finished drying herself, carefully steering her thoughts away from what was on her arm. Lieve came back in with a bundle of clothes in her hands and presented them to Hermione. She gratefully accepted them and Lieve left to let her get changed on her own. In the bundle was a cream coloured shift, simple brown dress and soft leather shoes. They were clearly handmade and well-worn but Hermione was thankful that she wouldn't stand out, much.

After dressing and making sure that she had her beaded bag, Hermione left the room in search of Lieve. The motherly woman was sitting by the fire mending a dress and smiled at Hermione when she entered the room. After drying Hermione's hair by the fire Lieve braided it into an elaborate braid, chatting all the while. Hermione smiled and nodded her head in silent thanks.

It wasn't long after that Éomer came back into the healer's house. He had also washed, changed and combed his hair. Éomer greeted Hermione and Lieve with a smile and warm words. Lieve then began talking rapidly with him and every now and then they both would look over to Hermione. At one particular instance Éomer looked over at Hermione in horror and started towards her however Lieve kept him back. Hermione didn't even need to guess what they were talking about but felt somewhat self-conscious and wished she could understand what they were saying.

Eventually Éomer walked over to Hermione with a smile but Hermione could see the underlying sadness in his eyes. She hoped that Éomer wouldn't treat her even more like a fragile lady then he previously did, but that was a long shot after what he just heard. He held out his arm, which Hermione hesitantly took, then lead her across the room towards the door. Before she left though, Lieve gave Hermione a big hug and kiss on the temple and sent her off with a warm smile.

The sun was setting and most people were in their homes preparing for dinner. There were only a few people out in the streets and they all stared unabashedly at Hermione. It reminded her of the time when Viktor Krum had taken her to the Yule Ball in her fourth year and everyone had stared at her. Normally it was Harry who received all of the attention and she wasn't used to it. She felt a blush rise on her cheeks but she refused to be cowed by these people.

Éomer was escorting her towards the building of the top of the hill. Hermione figured that it housed the mayor or lord of this city. Suddenly she was nervous. As if sensing her change in mood Éomer began to idly chat pointing things out to her as they went. Hermione's nerves settled but she still remained a little tense. She distracted herself by looking at the beautiful carvings on the building that she was being led to. Many of the carvings were of horses and they were expertly done.

As they reached the top of the stairs that led up to the main entrance Hermione was glad she had healed her leg back in the healer's house otherwise her leg would have been awfully sore. There were guards stationed at the entrance who were fully equipped with deadly weapons. Hermione gulped and subtly moved closer to Éomer as they entered as the guards looked at her with open suspicion.

Éomer led her through the building until they reached the dining room. Hermione could hear a murmur of merry conversation and the delicious smell of food which made her stomach rumble. When they entered the dining hall everyone stared. Hermione felt the heat rise in her cheeks as she mentally grumbled at how she wasn't even that exciting. Éomer led her over to the table which was still being loaded with food. At the head of the table was a man with a crown on his head, a king, who smiled and greeted Hermione as if she was a part of his family. Éomer sat down next to someone and introduced her as 'Éowyn'. She bore striking resemblance to Éomer and Hermione wondered if they were related. Éowyn had long blonde hair that fell in waves down her back. She had a pale face with light blue eyes and greeted Hermione kindly.

Hermione was glad when they started eating for she was starving. The food was rustic but hearty and filling. She let the conversation wash over her but she unobtrusively observed the dynamic of this society. The king was greatly respected but not feared and had a companionship with his subjects. She could see which men at the table were superior to others but observed that they all were at least friendly with each other as laughter and cheer were abundant.

It wasn't long before Hermione was full so she patiently waited for what was to come after. There were dogs running around the floor eating scraps and gnawing on bones. One dog in particular was a large black dog which painfully reminded her of Harry's godfather, Sirius Black. Sirius was pushed through the veil of death in a battle at the Ministry of Magic. His death weighed heavily and all of them, especially Harry, as it was their stupid actions that caused the situation in the first place. In a way that battle was a real eye opener and wake up call to the children. It was after that battle that they threw themselves into training. It taught them that war wasn't just a game, it was real, and it was deadly.

The hall eventually cleared out leaving the king, what Hermione assumed were his senior advisors, a man not much older than Éomer, Éomer himself and surprisingly Éowyn. Hermione immediately became tense a nervous knot grew in her stomach. The King and his advisors were examining her with serious expressions on their faces.

Hermione met the king's gaze. From what she had observed, he was a just ruler and so she was confident that he wouldn't just chuck her out. He had soft blue eyes, like Éomer and Éowyn. Were they family? It was the king who broke their gaze as he began to speak with Éomer. Hermione felt as though she had passed some sort of test and was quite relieved.

After a short exchange Éowyn stood from the table and gestured for Hermione to follow her. Surprised that it was over so quickly, Hermione stood.

"Thank you Éomer for all you have done for me. And thank you your highness for your hospitality," Hermione said with a small curtsey knowing that although they wouldn't understand her, her sentiment would still be expressed.

With a nod from the king and a smile from Éomer, Hermione followed Éowyn out of the hall suddenly feeling a lot better about her situation.

Harry was numb. He didn't know what to feel. The rancid stench burnt his nose and made him want to gag. Black Night Scales tightened her hold around his leg in comfort.

It had been two days after he met Black Night Scales that Harry returned to the exact place where he lost Ron and Hermione. It was a couple of hours after that where his faithful companion told him that his two best friends had split up.

Harry didn't know who to go after first. Hermione had been injured but after that point she had not been followed by those creatures, orcs as Black Night Scales called them, whereas Ron seemed to have been captured by them. He knew that Ron would want him to go after Hermione and Black Night Scales said that orcs were nasty, vile creatures and that Ron would most likely be dead by now. But Harry couldn't, wouldn't leave Ron for dead unless he knew the absolute truth. Hermione was smart, and mostly likely had her beaded bag with her she would be fine. So Harry and Black Night Scales set off following Ron's trail.

After three days of anxious tracking they had come across this scene. A pile of rancid ash that could only be the remains of bodies. Their corpses had disintegrated but still emitted a vile smell, of death and decay. The very ground beneath the pile had blackened as though it was being poisoned by the foul remains.

They were the remains of the orcs, Black Night Scales had said. Yet she couldn't find any trail belonging to Ron leading away from the area. The carcasses had burnt hot enough that it was impossible to tell whether Ron was a part of the pile or not. Harry himself had looked for any tracks that could have belonged to his friend. No tracks could be seen, no one had left the area. Had Ron used accidental magic to protect himself from the creatures then somehow become a victim of his own flames?

Harry felt sick. One of his best friends was mostly there, in that pile. The ashes of his loyal and first friend, mixed in with the evil ashes of monsters. It wasn't fair, for Ron having survived Voldemort's forces only to die in the few short days that had been in this place. Everyone Harry loved always ended up dying. He fists clenched against his sides in anger at the injustice of it all.

But I still have Hermione. If she's still alive.

Without looking back Harry stalked off, back the way they had come. Desperation in his eyes. He had to find Hermione for Harry did not know what to do with himself if he ended up alone again. Black Night Scales uncoiled from around his leg, slithering out in front to easily show the young Istari their path.

Harry's grief caused waves of wild magic to cascade across the ground. Leaves swayed in flurries of non-existent wind and loose dirt was swept up in soft eddies with each step. Small tendrils touched the ancient hearts of the surrounding trees, rousing them from their long slumber. These ancient bodies focussed their attention on the young grief-stricken Istari as he strode past.

The anguish emanating from the Istari caused a stir within the trees. They began to whisper, asking questions as they fully awakened from their sleep. Answers came from those who were conscious at the time of the pulse of the forest. But with answers came more questions. Whispered conversations rippled across the whole forest, stirring the many who were still slumbering.

Fangorn Forest as a whole was awakening, change was occurring as ancient magic stirred. The grief of the young Istari was uniting the forest and the trees, who for so long only considered themselves, looked to the outside world. They saw trouble brewing, war on the horizon, and they would be ready, they would help.

A/N: So what did you guys think? Reviews are welcome! :D