As always, thanks to my wonderful betas, Christina Teresa and Seakays. I also appreciate the wonderful people who not only read, but take their time to review. For their Chapter 18 reviews, thank you to Mist, inlovewithron, Sunflowa (who followed the story to SQ, too! MANY thanks!), and Harry Lvr. Hope you enjoy this one! NZ

Chapter 19
Her Knight On Shining Armor

Ch 18 Summary: Ron tells Leo he won't be back to work. Leo guesses what he's about to do and gets Ron the maintenance reversal spells for the security wards at Trapperton. Fred and George tell Ron they can't get Harry out of Privet Drive until the following day. Harry Floos Ron to tell him he's overheard Umbridge isn't in St. Mungo's as she's supposed to be and that Ron needs to go that night to get Hermione out, even if he has to go alone. Harry will follow when he can. Fred and George disclose their escape plan to Ron. Ron leaves for Trapperton and finds Pig along the way.

Hermione was surprised to find she'd awakened from a deep sleep. It was such a strange phenomenon to have actually slept for a few hours for the second night running that she was suspicious it had been the quiet that had awakened her. Either way, it felt good to know that not only had she slept, but that she could go back to sleep and sneak in a few more hours' worth.

Unfortunately, her mind was also so stunned at the silence and at having got some rest that she had trouble calming it down now she was awake. True, she had heard one short Yeti call earlier in the night , but it had apparently not been enough that the handlers thought it necessary to release the dogs. What's been different about last night and tonight in the habitat to make the Yeti quiet? She listened carefully to see if she could hear the trainers or anyone else out and about in the camp, yet she heard nothing but the low droning of a Muggle airplane in the distance.

Well, maybe since Dr. Null wouldn't tell me any more than he has about why the Yeti were so upset, he'll at least tell my why they haven't been for the past two nights. I'll ask him tomorrow if there's been some sort of breakthrough or something.

Hermione pulled the covers up around her neck (not that she needed them for warmth, but she just couldn't sleep any other way), then she nuzzled her face into her pillow as she habitually did, closing her eyes. The low humming of the airplane in the distance continued, perhaps a bit louder now, and she thought about how that sound was sometimes a comfort to her, just to know that someone else was awake out there, no matter how far away. Perhaps it would help her drift off to sleep...

Just as she began to feel that everything around her was getting fuzzy, she mentally noted that the airplane noise was actually getting fairly loud and close, even though it sounded much more like a small, private aircraft rather than a larger one. It did make a strange "Pop!" two or three times as it continued, but perhaps it just sounded so loud because so far the night had been a peaceful one. Ah well...who cares...?

Her eyes blinked open again.What was that? She had no idea if she'd just slept a few seconds or a few hours, but something had awakened her. Something in the air was different now-- the dogs were barking madly, though from far away in their pens, she figured; the peaceful droning of the airplane was gone. She hadn't heard aYeti call, which was what usually set off the dogs, and the enormous lights hadn't yet been lit; all of this calamity must have just begun.

Something small, like a tiny stone, hit her door. No more than a minute later, so did another. Hermione sat up, listening intently. There was no wind tonight, so it couldn't have been twigs or seeds blowing against the door. Was there something there or...? Perhaps it was just a forest animal crawling around. After a few minutes of silence, she laid back down, but while settling into her pillow again, she could have sworn she heard a soft tapping.

That's it! I refuse to lie here like a sitting duck waiting for something to burst in on me!

As quietly as she could, in case something or someone outside her door could hear her moving around inside, Hermione slid out of bed and grabbed her wand from the bedside table. "Lumos minimus!" she ordered quietly before a soft glow appeared to help her navigate the small room.

On her way to the door, she considered her next move. If she couldn't hear anything from her side of the door, she could reverse the Security Spell to open it and have a peek outside, wand ready. But that would leave her at the mercy of whatever was out there as well. Tulip or Tod maybe? But why would they be out wandering at this time of night?

With her ear to the door, she thought she could hear the rustling of a rather large body, something or someone bigger than herself. And there was a crunching sound, like parchment moving about... was that a very low "hmm" she heard? Perhaps one of the handlers? But why would they be bothering her now, unless they'd somehow found out what she'd overheard?

Hermione was already very sure of herself with her Full Body-Bind Spell. If I reverse the spell and pull open the door, then immediately hit them with the Full Body Bind.. .Even if it's someone important, how could they blame me with them skulking around in the night like that? It's either that, or stand here till morning, wondering...

Stepping back from the door so she could swing it open quickly, she readied herself to incant the reversal in as confident and even a voice as she could muster: "Invertare Incantado Bilius!" She instantly reached to grab the doorknob, but before she could turn it, she heard a moaning complaint in a low, familiar whisper:

"What? Aw, Hermione, how could you? You know how much I hate that name!"

With a gasp of utter shock and a tingling in her eyes, Hermione wrenched the doorknob to the right and nearly yanked the door from its hinges. Grabbing the first handful of Ron that she could reach, she seized his jacket front and pulled him, stumbling, over the threshold. The sudden movement startled Pig into flight from somewhere, then there were feathers floating in front of Ron's nose and he immediately sneezed -- twice. The tiny owl zipped around the room in circles, chittering happily once he saw who they had come to visit.

"Bilius! Silencio!" Hermione stated in a firm, but confused voice to re-set the Security Spells and begin a Silencing Spell as well.

Ron blinked at her, trying to recover from his twin sneezes; but as soon as he did, he simply stood there staring at her with that devilishly wonderful grin. "Bilius? Interesting choice, Hermione."

Oooh! Twenty seconds! He's been here twenty seconds and he's starting already! she thought, quite embarrassed that he'd discovered what was supposed to be her secret.

She was so glad to see him, she fought the urge to criticize him-- almost succeeded, too. Almost.

"What are you doing, Ron?" she demanded. "You could have been caught! They would have arrested you, you know--maybe killed you! Breaking into a Ministry compound! You-you--" But she couldn't hold back a moment longer, " -- you wonderful idiot!""

Hermione threw her arms around his neck, standing on bare tiptoes to reach that high. She wanted to hug him quickly and let go--she did -- at least her mind told her so.

Ron struggled a bit and coughed, laughing and gently loosening her arms. "Wait, you're choking me! Geez, Hermione, I can't tell if you're trying to kill me or if you're glad to see me."

She pulled her arms from around his neck and moved back a bit to look in his face, tossing her still-lit wand aside on the bed. But she'd so desperately missed that playful look of happiness in those eyes that had been so cold and angry the last time she'd looked that deep. There was nothing to say right now -- nothing -- and only one thing to do. More gently, but still determined, Hermione reached inside his open jacket to circle her arms around his waist and lay her head against his chest; that way he wouldn't be able to see the hot tears splashing down her face.

Ron chuckled softly in apparent embarrassment once, but it quickly died out and after a few moments she felt his arms slip awkwardly but warmly around her back. He'd probably never know how much comfort this brought or how much she needed this moment to fill that deep well of loneliness inside of her with as much of him as he would give.

Finally, she felt him loosen his arms. "Hermione?" he said softly.

Pig hooted quietly at the sound of Ron's voice from where the owl had finally settled down on the top of the dresser. No doubt the dim light and their calm silence had helped.

Okay, I can do this now, she told herself. Sniffing, she pulled her arms from around him and took a few steps back. She swiped her hand across her face to push away the teary residue and she noticed him pointedly ignoring the gesture. He never had known quite what to do when she cried -- no matter how quiet she was about it (although she was fairly certain he must be aware, but also gallantly ignoring, how soaked his shirtfront was at this moment).

"Okay, I do have a problem here," Ron began. "I had to leave Sirius's motorbike in the bushes outside-- I need to get it in here before someone finds it."

"Sirius's motorbike?" Hermione said in awe, recovering a bit of normalcy now. "That's how you got here?" Of course, the droning of the airplane... "That engine sound--that was you?"

Ron winced. "Yeah--how bad was it? That motorbike's never taken a Silencing Charm, no matter how I try. I waited until there was a Muggle air-o-plane flying over before I started in, though. But it sounds like those dogs definitely caught on. Are those the ones you've told me about?"

"Yes-- though they're probably still in their kennels from the sounds of it. You onl sounded like an airplane, though --maybe a really close one," Hermione answered. "But so far the floodlights aren't on, you're probably safe. What happened to the Security wards? I mean, thank heavens they didn't go off, but --why didn't they?"

Ron flashed her a smug smile. "I have the Maintenance Test Reversal Spell for the wards. Don't worry-- they'll re-set themselves automatically after a few minutes."

He'd made those pops she'd heard...Hermione realized how stupid she must look with her mouth hanging open and snapped it shut. "How in the world did you get that? How did you learn to do that?"

Ron shrugged. "I, er, well, let's just say I know someone." He looked worriedly at the door. "Can I go get it now?"

Hermione was still thinking about all he'd told her. "Oh -- oh, yes. Go on, bring it in. But be careful because Dr. Voyde's cabin is next door--and no telling what she'd do if she found you." She listened to the continued yelping and barking outside for a moment, fearful that her 'friends' would disturb the whole camp. "Oh, those dogs! Why won't they get quiet now?"

Ron just stood there, finally pointing upward. "Erm...Security Spell?"

"Oh -- right," she said, walking to retrieve her wand from the bed and holding it up.
"Invertare Incantado Bilius!"

Though she could tell he was dying to say something else, all he did was smirk at her when she incanted the last word of the spell. Then he turned and headed out of the door, probably missing altogether the sneer she shot at him.

"Be careful!" she whispered loudly. "--And quiet! The dogs might have woke the handlers!" It took no more than thirty seconds of staring at the darkness through the doorframe before Ron appeared there again, pushing a gleaming machine that was so different from the one Hermione had seen weeks ago in the shed, she could hardly believe it was the same motorbike. Just as Ron was pulling the rear wheel of the motorbike over the threshold, a blazing blast of light illuminated everything behind him.

Hermione gasped. "Hurry! It's just the floodlamps, but when they're on, everyone can seeeverything!" Ooooh, those dogs get nothing from me tomorrow!" Quickly shoving the door closed behind him, she whispered to re-set the Security and the Silencing Spells.

The shock of the light hitting his eyes had only hurried him into the room, but once inside he moved carefully, apparently to avoid knocking anything over with the motorbike and attracting unwanted attention from anyone outside. He walked the motorbike over to a corner next to the desk and set the kickstand.

Hermione wandered over with her lit wand, muttering "Maximus!". Between that and the shafts of light coming in around the window blinds, she found herself gaping in awe.

"Oh, Ron," she said, transfixed. "It's--it's beautiful!"

"Runs great now, too," Ron boasted. "Not even one problem, the whole way here." He flopped himself into her desk chair.

After staring at the motorbike for several minutes, she could feel his eyes on her. It was only then that she realized all she had on was her T-shirt and her pyjama shorts. Her face hot again (second time in fifteen minutes, she thought irritably), there was nothing to do but face him head on and embarrass him back, which she did. (She knew it would be easy to embarrass him, but she found it charming in a twisted sort of way. Muggle boys wouldn't give a thought to what she had on, not even someone like Harry, because they were accustomed to seeing girls in so much less, even in the ads on the tellie. Ron, on the other hand, used to long, loose robes and females being almost fully covered his whole life, couldn't take even a little extra exposed skin...) He looked away quickly, blushing so deeply she could even tell in the dim light; he picked up an old quill from her desk to distract himself.

"So--" he began, still looking at the quill, "is that what you're wearing home? Because it's a bit colder at about three thousand feet, you know."

Engrossed in her thoughts about embarrassment, she thought she'd misunderstood him. "Wearing...home?"

"Yeah," he said. "We don't have much time. I'm not sure we can make it back before sunrise even now, but maybe we can get part way and hide somewhere for the day. Hurry -- get your things -- just enough to get you by."

"What? Wait--" Hermione said in disbelief and confusion, shaking her head. "I'm not going home."

Ron's gaze snapped to her face, his embarrassment forgotten. He smiled a bit, as if she must have been joking. "Oh -- okay, to the Burrow then. Hermione, I came to get you out of here. Don't you know how dangerous it is?"

"It's not dangerous for me -- just for the Yeti," she said. "You can't imagine what they're doing to them."

"Well, we can't take them with us on the motorbike, that's for sure."

"Exactly." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and stared. Seeing her firm stance seemed to deflate Ron's enthusiasm a bit. "There's something strange going on here besides that. I don't know what it is, but this isn't just a research compound. Voyde's men--"

Ron was frowning now and didn't seem especially interested in hearing her long, convoluted story. In fact, he seemed rather irritable. "Who?"

"Voyde's men--remember those men from King's Cross? In the station, with Bruno? They were on their way here." Hermione had been afraid to send that information to the boys in a letter, even via their shipping system that seemed like it ought to be quite secure. She wasn't sure just what the men's connections were in the world outside Trapperton, but she knew how evil they felt while they were here within. She assumed that if someone intercepted a letter pointing that out, they might not be pleased about it...

"Those men are here?" Ron asked blankly.

"They're the trainers for the Yeti," Hermione explained. "They're doing things to deprive them, but I just don't know how far they'll take it--or why they're doing it - yet. Oh, I have so much to tell you."

"Well, you can tell me on the way back--"

Hermione couldn't believe he'd made that assumption. "Ron, you can't come storming in here expecting me to just drop everything and go."

"Didn't you read my last letter?" Ron said, incredulous. "I came to get you out of here--don't you have any idea who's coming?"

Hermione could feel her jaw setting. "Phelix Nardstone-- yes, I know.

Ron stood and moved closer to look down at her, though as long as she'd known him he'd never managed to intimidate her with his height. "I know that's what everyone says officially, but when we were told to ship his stuff, it belonged to someone else. It wasn't his."

Smirking just a bit, Hermione shifted on her feet and looked up into his face. "And you know this-- how?"

"Unless there's something Phelix Nardstone isn't letting on, I pulled a black hair bow from his satchel."

"A hair bow?" she scoffed. "Well, maybe it's his wife's, or his daughter's."

Ron acted a bit like he was talking to a child, or to someone hard of hearing. "Hermione -- he's a two-hundred-year-old miser--he has no wife or daughter. He has no hair either, come to that."

"Then a female friend," she said stubbornly.

Ron sighed in apparent exasperation. "I repeat, he's a two-hundred-year-old miser. Besides, I found a memo in Nardstone's office saying that someone would be coming here to take care of an urgent problem."

"Yes, but they always talk like that about the projects. And no one's coming for two days. That will give us some time to find out what's going on and get information to take back to the Ministry...or Dumbledore..."

He didn't appear to be registering what she was saying at all. "But it wasn't Nardstone's stationery unless he likes that pink, too. Don't you remember? Hair bows, pink parchment stationery? Umbridge, Hermione. Umbridge is coming here. Here. Who knows why? And who cares? But you are not her favorite person, remember? We need to get you out of here."

"Ron, how do you know she's coming?" Hermione said tersely. "Did you read it somewhere? Hear it from the Order? How can you be so sure?"

"Well, I can't, really," Ron said irritably. "And I don't know for sure. But there are so many bits of information that lead that way--it's got to be -- I can feel it. And Harry--he overheard Tonks and Moody talking about Umbridge. They don't think she's in St. Mungo's like the papers have been saying she is -- Kingsley Shacklebolt was sure he saw her at the Ministry last week."

"Yes, but even if he's right --that doesn't mean she's on her way here."

Ron acted as if he wanted to tell her something else, but was having a difficult time getting it out-- finally he seemed to purposely throw it off. He looked down to search her face and eyes for several moments before asking a question he seemed to already have the answer to. "You're not coming back with me tonight, are you?"

Hermione looked up at him almost apologetically through her eyelashes. It wasn't that she didn't want to, but... "I...can't, Ron. I can't just leave them here at the mercy of those men--not without trying to help. I might be their only chance--maybe I really am supposed to be here--for that, for them. Please try to understand."

Ron's threw his hands in the air and turned away, shaking his head. "Shoulda known. With you, I shoulda known."

She could hear the disappointment in his voice. "If you need to go, I'm sure I'll be all right. I wouldn't blame you if you left."

"I flew all this way, thinking..." Ron paused a moment, looking up and blinking at the ceiling. "Oh, I don't know what I was thinking." He looked back down into her face, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "But you know what? I came to make sure you were safe. If I leave, I might as well have never come. Reckon I'll just stay and make sure you're safe that way."

"Really?" she asked, almost afraid to hope.

"Yeah, what the hell," Ron said. "But not forever. I'll give you until midnight tonight--well, after the day's over, as it stands now."

Hermione struggled not to reflexively snap at him for his language -- he didn't need that right now. She knew she might need longer than midnight -- but his heart was in the right place, as always, and she could work on stretching the time element with him later.

"All right, so you have all day to see what you can do about this scientist and see what more you can find out," Ron reasoned. "That'll still get us out out of here before whoever comes, comes, and we can still get out in the dark if we have to. We just have to let Harry know when we leave if he's not here by then. But we have Pig--"

Hermione's eyes widened. "Harry's coming?"

"He's trying," Ron said, seeming to be losing steam, "but we're not sure how far he'll make it before the Order catches up with him. He was worried about you, too, you know, once I told him everything. Plus we didn't know what we'd run into once we came to get you out. It was just that he couldn't--"

The realization of what all that meant was hitting her. "You let Harry leave that house? Don't you know what could happen to him? Far worse things than could happen here!"

Hermione was just working herself up to a good rage when Ron slumped onto the end of the bed behind him.

"Stop, Hermione-- please?" he asked weakly. "If you won't leave tonight, then can you wait until tomorrow to yell at me? I'm sure you'll still remember how really hacked off you are, and well--I'm just really tired...it's been kind of a long day...two days, really. Do you have a bit of floor I can use?"

The fact that Ron had even considered letting Harry leave Privet Drive was enough to set her off screaming for hours. But he looked so defeated and exhausted sitting there, his eyes drooping, that all of a sudden she didn't have the heart.

"Where's Harry now?" she forced herself to ask calmly.

"With his aunt and uncle still," Ron answered dully. "Where can I --" he yawned and swung a forefinger at the floor, "--be out of your way?"

She looked around the small room, trying to mentally change gears. "I don't know. Just-- wait there a minute. I'll get a pillow and some blankets."

"No, that's--" Ron yawned again, trying to shake it out of himself to talk to her, "-- that's okay."

"Honestly, Ron," she fussed. "Obviously, you need some decent sleep. Just sit there." Padding through the short bathroom hallway toward the back closet where Tod had shown her the extra bedding was kept, she pulled out a pillow and several blankets. She carried them out into the main room, only to see that, as usual, Ron hadn't done as he was told. He was no longer sitting.

Ron had slid to the floor at the end of the bed and was fast asleep, crumpled into a heap in a half-upright position. Aside from the fact that he was going to have a terrible kink in his neck once he woke, she was also going to have trouble walking over his long legs to get around in the room herself.

Hermione laid a blanket out on the floor and dropped the pillow at one end. Reaching over to his arm, she tugged until he was lying flat, then half-pushed, half-rolled him onto the blanket. Without opening his eyes, Ron seized the pillow the instant his face touched it, waking only enough to shove the thing into a wad, roll onto his stomach, and mumble, "just five more minutes, Mum..."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione considered trying to get his leather jacket off, since it looked like it'd be very stiff, hot, and uncomfortable to sleep in; she'd never seen him wear it before, yet it did look familiar somehow... But she didn't want to wake him to do it, so she only slipped off his shoes, threw them under her desk, and tossed the other blanket haphazardly over him. If he was uncomfortable, it certainly didn't seem to be affecting his sleep at all.

She stepped carefully over Ron's feet, climbed into bed and pushed around in the blankets until she found her wand to whisper, "Nox!" Lying there awake, her eyes became accustomed to the darkness after a few minutes. Hermione could see the bulky, dark outline of the motorbike filling a corner of her room and half of the long, low outline of her best friend stretched out on the floor beyond the end of her bed.

Things had turned out so strangely and so differently at Trapperton than she had first imagined that she wondered if Ron could be right. He had little evidence to go on, from what he'd told her so far. Did he know more? Or could he be that certain from just the few clues that he'd talked with her about? Was he blowing things out of proportion, or was there something she was missing? Maybe that third flat wasn't for more house-elves...

She tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. The sheets felt hot and sticky against her skin and she kicked her legs to throw them off. Still too hot. Nights like this made her crazy, knowing that she had so much to do the next day and certain that she'd be exhausted if she didn't force herself to sleep. Yet the harder she tried, the farther she felt from it.

Hermione sat up in exasperation, unable to stand lying there any longer. Her mind would not keep still. With the vague hope that doing so might unwind her, she went over all of the clues she'd managed to find out about the Yeti and what the handlers were doing to them, all of the things she'd seen and overheard. But she kept coming back to the same question: Why? Why would someone like Dr. Voyde, who had supposedly devoted her life to the welfare of magical creatures, suddenly allow others to antagonize and mistreat them? Could impressing Carl Smeggers be that important to her? How could Dr. Null be so blind? Was he that afraid for his reputation? Even though she still thought the idea was pretty far-fetched, what would Dolores Umbridge want with Trapperton?

I could kill Ron for dragging Harry into this, Hermione thought, but she knew how close the two of them were. In all honesty, she might have been more surprised if he'd told her Harry knew nothing about it.

She heard Ron shifting around on the floor and tried to peer over the end of the bed to see him. It felt strange to have him sleeping in the same room with her and hear his deep, even breathing (not to mention an occasional little coo from the also-sleeping Pig on the bureau); yet it was wonderful to have some relief fom the horrible loneliness that had been her constant companion for so many days.

Bored and tired of trying to figure out difficult answers when everything was so confusing, Hermione threw herself on her stomach at the foot of the bed to watch Ron sleep. She wished she felt as peaceful as he looked there in the near-darkness, though she could guess that once he was awake, his peace would be just as non-existent as hers.

Whether he was right or not, the fact was that he had come to save her from whatever evils he believed to be out there. Somehow the image of first-year Ron as the knight on McGonagall's giant chessboard flashed into her mind and she smiled to herself. She remembered how horrified, yet awed she'd been then at the idea that a twelve-year-old boy would be willing to sacrifice himself for the good of his friends and the wizarding world, if necessary. It had always amazed her how accepting Ron was of putting himself in harm's way to keep those he loved as far from it as possible. How lucky she was to be one of those he...well...cared about.

Her mind wandered off into the thought that perhaps it was cooler on the floor. In fact, it probably was, she convinced herself. Ron looked perfectly comfortable down there, even in that thick, heavy jacket. Oh, Hermione, stop lying to yourself...

The fact was, she didn't want to sleep in the bed--not when she had missed her friends so much, not when Ron had just got here, not when he had come to save her from some terrible fate, whether that fate was in the cards or not. ...Not when he was warm and funny and brave and so very Ron and all she had to do was reach down and touch him...And suddenly she couldn't help herself.

Her face burning in embarrassment, even though there was no one to see and no real reason to be embarrassed, Hermione shakily climbed to her knees on the bed to look down and make sure. On the far side of Ron, there wasn't much space, but it was more than enough. She pulled off her sheet, grabbed her pillow, then silently crawled out and tiptoed around the end of the bed. Carefully, she stepped over him and edged herself into the space, because how in the world would she explain what she was doing if Ron woke up? Come to that, how would she explain it in the morning anyway? She would wake up first, that's all. She had to be in the lab by nine, anyway.

Settling herself into the space near him, she noted that it definitely was cooler there. Ron had rolled onto his side and his front jacket flap was lying open on the floor between them. After watching him sleep a few minutes to make certain she hadn't awakened him at all, she allowed her fingers to creep out toward his jacket and touch the soft fuzziness of its flannel lining. Pulling a handful of the flannel into her palm, she found that it somehow made her feel so safe--and comfortable--just like Ron could make her feel sometimes.

Her eyelids began to feel heavy and she sighed as she nuzzled her face into her pillow, feeling the sheet around her neck. Her inadvertent sigh told her that handful of lining was all she needed to sleep now -- to know Ron was really there, that he wasn't some dream she'd wake up from and realize that she was back to being truly alone at Trapperton with her fears and her worries. The fact that she could feel his warm, even breaths ever so softly tickling her cheek from several feet away was a complete bonus--though she had to work hard to ignore the tingles they caused. Finally, she felt as much at peace as he looked -- at least for now.

Lying on the hard ,hot stone surface in the sweltering Egyptian summer heat, Ron looked down from his niche on the side of the Great Pyramid onto the desert floor below. From here, he could see the ward markers that would go off between himself and the flat sands of the Sahara on his way down, alerting all of those evil men who rode giant, snarling and salivating dogs and held enormous floating brains by their thought ribbons, ready to unfurl and fly toward him at a moment's notice. Just the thought was making him sweat, and they must have already hit him with some evil curse that made him feel restricted and confined, unable to move and free himself. They must have been starving him too, purposely, because his stomach rumbled hard, loud, and long enough to bring him closer to consciousness...

"Argh," he moaned, pulling his head from the pillow, confused. It had been a long time since he'd thrown himself out of bed as he used to when, as a child, he dreamt of doing a Wronski Feint while playing Quidditch for the Cannons. But here he was, on the floor. Or -- had he jumped from the side of the Pyramid after all?

Squinting, he looked around, and as his eyes began to focus better, he realized he wasn't at home in the Burrow; it all began to come back. His arm still asleep across a second pillow a foot or two away, Ron slowly and painfully lifted it and sat up, finding that the restrictive spell and the heat in his dream were both a result of the fact that he had apparently slept in his leather jacket. He quickly wrenched his arms from the sleeves and pulled it off, throwing it forcefully to the side.

Hermione, he thought. "Hermione?" he tested quietly, hoping she was nearby. No response. Pulling himself up far enough to peer over the edge of her bed, he found it empty save for a balled-up sheet lying on top. He didn't remember much about earlier in the dark this morning after begging her to yell at him later, but she must have been the one to get him set up here, unless she always stayed prepared for overnight guests with bedding on the floor. The last thing he really remembered was sitting on the end of her bed, waiting for her to come back with something...

Next thing he knew, he woke up down here with blankets and pillows. Wait -- blankets and pillows? Looking at his pillow and the one nearby, then back at the empty space on the bed, he was perplexed. She must have sacrificed her pillow for me since I was on the floor, he thought. She didn't have to do that. And I already had one...He looked back and forth between the pillow and the space on the bed again...odd, that. Suddenly it felt as if there was a big blank space in his mind again, just like there had been after the night of the Department of Mysteries break-in--he felt as if he'd missed something really important--and this time he hadn't even been hit with a spell. Oh, well -- pillows were hardly the most pressing problem of the day.

Speaking of that, it had to be almost -- he swung his head around to find her bedside table -- ten o'clock! No wonder I felt like I missed somethng -- I did! Almost half the day gone and no doubt -- missed breakfast! Ron stood and stretched, his stomach rumbling. As he lowered his arms, he felt a soft weight on his shoulder and something nibbling gently at his cheek.

"I know, Pig. I'm starving too," Ron said, wondering just how he was going to eat when he was effectively under house arrest until he spoke to Hermione about how or if he should go outside. "Wonder where she is in this place?" Ron reached for the map that he'd shoved into his back pocket on his way to get the motorbike last night. Unfolding it, he and Pig stared down at the diagram of the camp and beyond. "Whaddya thInk? The habitat? Commons? Lab building?"

"Shhraww," said Pig.

"Yeah, me too --- the lab building, I'd wager," Ron agreed. "But I'm sure there are lots of people there, too. Well -- nothing to do but wait. I drove, so I'm showering first -- you'll have to go second," he teased.

Pig blinked up at Ron, nibbled his cheek again, and flew to the top of the bureau.

Revived and refreshed from his shower, but still hungry, Ron wandered into the main room of the cabin to find Pig sitting atop the curtain rod of one of the few windows that had more than just a blind for cover. The little window on the habitat side of the entrance door was making an odd noise -- or something outside was making an odd noise against it. Pig was obviously trying to let Ron know, but was sitting and cocking his head from side to side curiously as if he wondered what it could be himself.

"Scourgify!" - ing his T-shirt before throwing it on quickly over his jeans, Ron grabbed his wand where he'd left it on the bureau and did his best to walk silently across the room. A faint rustling and a continual "dink--dinnk--dink" went on for a minute or two while Ron listened. He pulled the bottom of the blind away from the wall a few inches to see around the side of it and saw a paper airplane jamming itself nose-first into the glass over and over. Tugging the blind out a bit farther, Ron reversed the Security Spell and quickly unlatched the window, shoving it open far enough for the paper airplane to fly in.

Ron could see that the wing of the 'plane' said Shipping Message, but it was in Hermione's handwriting. He unfolded the parchment, only to discover that the message was coded in runes, just like the names he'd learned to decode in Shipping at the Ministry.

"You're so damned brilliant, Hermione," Ron muttered, smiling and realizing there weren't likely many people in camp who could knew the spell to decode the note in case it was intercepted. He incanted the spell at once and read softly to Pig:

"Dear Ron,
I had take to care of post and be at work in the lab by nine, all while you were having a lovely lie-in. I suppose some of us have to work around here. I've had Tod (the house-elf, remember?) leave what I explained to be 'leftovers' from breakfast for 'me' to eat later. They should be suspended on the porch. It isn't much, but it's the best I could do. Stay there -- I'll get there as soon as I can without arousing suspicions.

Love,
Hermione"

Ron felt his ears go hot at the final two words, but the butterflies in his stomach were losing out to the vicious growls, so it was the latter that forced him to the door. Cautiously and quickly, he opened and closed it to retrieve the bag, which he found full of wonderful things to eat. If this 'wasn't much' in Hermione's opinion, he wondered if a house-elf could carry something that was 'enough'.

After a full night's sleep, a shower, and an ample breakfast, Ron could see how someone could be lulled into believing that nothing was wrong here. Not that he'd looked or been outside at all, but just the quiet peacefulness of the camp alone was definitely a change from the Burrow, the Ministry, or Hogwarts -- all of those noisy places that his life was usually lived out. He leaned back in the desk chair to stretch his full stomach and smile at Pig, who after stuffing himself with what Ron shared, was contentedly preening himself on the desktop.

He hadn't exactly expected to be waking up on Hermione's floor this morning. This hero business was much more uncertain and difficult than he thought. Or maybe it's just this particular damsel-in-distress that's the problem... Of course, he hadn't really expected Hermione to be imprisoned in some tower, held prisoner at swordpoint by ogres and dragons. But he'd thought she might be just a little relieved that he'd shown up to spirit her away and move her out of danger. Wasn't that the way it was supposed to be?

But you, Weasley, of all the damsels in the world, have to go and try to to save Hermione. Hermione, who when you have something urgent and important to tell her, says "Wait, I'm almost done with this paragraph" or "Wait, just let me finish this sentence". Hermione, who has more important things to do or say than just to drop everything and walk away or listen to you. Hermione, who insists she can handle all kinds of danger by herself. Yeah, you should have known it would be "Wait, I'm not in danger, but they are. Let me figure out this mystery I'm working on to help them long enough for someone to come to hurt me.Then we'll worry. Oh, yes, and by the way, thank you for stopping by." Yeah, Hermione would be the problem.

Somehow Hermione didn't seem like she was worried about being in danger, she was more concerned about these Yeti she was working with than she was about herself. He really had trouble figuring out how someone could be so self-sacrificing about other creatures -- people, maybe he could understand -- but creatures? He secretly hoped that her crusading was founded on more than it had been so far for S.P.E.W. -- that these beings really did need her help to protect themselves, and more importantly, that they wanted the help.

But he'd show her. He would wait -- just in case, because he was sure he was right. She'd find out and then be grateful and pleased he had known and cared enough to come save her. And he'd do the same ten times over if only he could be her hero for once...

All this thinking led him to realize it was getting hot and stuffy in here. Ron considered opening the window to get some fresh air and a look outside. Certainly he'd heard no one all morning nearby and only a few bangs and voices in the distance. Probably everyone was at their work places by now-- and according to the map, the buildings around this one were only sleeping quarters. Leaning forward over the desk, Ron pulled the blind down a bit to release it upward, but just as he did, he caught sight of movement not far outside.

Quickly pulling the blind back down except for a small opening of a few centimeters, Ron crawled around the side of the desk onto the floor so that he could see out through the space without being seen himself. A mousy-looking woman in white lab robes was standing in front of the cabin next door to Hermione's, kicking the toe of her shoe into the dirt and looking expectantly toward the middle of the camp where he'd first landed last night. She didn't seem to have any idea that anyone was watching her, so Ron reckoned that, luckily, she hadn't seen him lift the shade. He assumed, from what Hermione had told him about Dr. Voyde's cabin being next door, that the woman must be her. But what was she doing?

It became clear when a huge, lumbering man came into view: she'd been waiting for him. The man's gait was familiar, even without the long trench coat and the hat -- that was definitely the man with the dog from King's Cross, and once more-- he didn't appear happy.

As the man approached, Dr. Voyde hurried up to him, smiling and reaching her arms around his neck. But without so much as raising his eyes, the man reached up and shoved the woman's arms away, continuing to walk farther back between Voyde's cabin and Hermione's. Near the rear of the cabins, where it would have been almost impossible for anyone from the camp center to see them, he stopped and turned to her.

What is all this about? Ron thought. He'd almost turned away when he saw Voyde's first move toward the man, thinking that this was just a little lover's getaway out of sight from the other camp workers. But once he saw the man's reaction...

Voyde's face had fallen when the man rejected her embrace, and she'd been following him with mincing little steps until he stopped. Now she crossed her arms in front of herself as she faced him, looking vaguely as if she might cry.

"That little girl in there?" the man growled, shoving a thumb in the direction of Hermione's cabin.

"No," Voyde replied nervously, as if she was expecting him to explode, "I just saw her in the lab not five minutes ago. Why?"

"That one, she's always into things where she's not wanted, that's why," the man said. "We need nothing wrong now -- but maybe you're not so worried about that, eh?"

"What?" Voyde asked. "What are you talking about?

"Last night, you-- you trying to throw off the pattern for those animals," Carl accused. "What did you do? Tell the men to go back to the want and the pain? You told them too early! It is not yet time!"

"Carl - I have no idea what you're talking about!" Voyde whined. 'What do you mean -- throw off the pattern?"

"Sure, you say you know nothing!" Carl sneered. "It was supposed to be a reward last night -- a quiet night. The Yeti animals, they earned it -- that black monster earned it for them all again by killing the horse - he is learning, that one. But it was only the second night -- the reward is for three this time, then we start in again."

"I know," the woman said. "I know it's for three nights. What makes you think I --"

"The dogs, woman!" Carl said fiercely, then toned his voice down. "Didn't you hear the dogs? You think Carl's too stupid to hear the dogs?"

"Well, yes-- I mean, no, you're not stupid, darling. I heard them, but -- I haven't any idea why they were barking --"

"Really!" Carl said. "So the Ministry wards you and your Dr. Doolittle can do-- that you're the only ones who know the magic for -- you didn't hear popping like firecrackers?"

Voyde looked completely baffled. "The wards? They were popping?"

Ron cringed. He knew exactly when and why the wards were popping.

"Like independence day!" Carl snapped. "And surely you knew -- because I saw Null outside his cabin in undershorts looking at the sky as curious as me after it happened."

"When was this?" Dr. Voyde asked, still seeming confused.

"Two in the morning -- just after. Did you not see the lights go on?"

"Well, of course -- but I didn't know why," Voyde explained. "And I must have slept through the wards being broken. Are they still down? Are we operating without them?"

"No - they're working now," Carl said. "Which means someone who knew put them back. Again, you or Null - two choices only. And only one choice makes sense if you saw the stupid, confused look on his face. It was you."

"But why do you think I'd do anything with the wards? What purpose would it serve?" Dr. Voyde asked.

Carl smirked at her. "Ha. You think I don't know. You brought another horse in from the back range -- so they can hear it and kill it. But it's too soon! There's been no 'want time' -- those animals, they need to know the want and feel the pain before they get a chance to kill. You push too fast, they do not understand, they do not learn."

"I know -- I know how the positive and negative reinforcement works," Voyde insisted, starting to sound a little huffy herself. "But I didn't turn off the wards, I didn't bait another horse! Go see for yourself -- if you can find one in the habitat, then I'll take some of the blame. But I only say that because I know you won't find one."

"Yeah, sure," Carl said. "Good idea -- I go look. Maybe I see where your heart really lies. Maybe not with Carl. Maybe you think you have a better idea." The man turned and stomped away, back between the cabins and out toward the center of the camp.

"Carl!" she called after him, but he kept walking. Dr. Voyde first looked as if she wanted to follow him and not let him leave angry, but then she caught herself and turned away. Muttering, she appeared to be forcing herself to stay back and wait for him to get out of sight, maybe so that others wouldn't see the two of them emerging together from some unseen area. After sputtering a few minutes more, she gritted her teeth, picked up a palm-sized stone, and promptly pitched it at the back corner of her cabin.

"Men!" she hissed and stomped away toward the center of the camp herself.