You guys, because I was utterly astounded at the amount of reviews you bestowed on me last chapter, so I decided to post again for you all (plus, that cliffhanger was terrible, I know. This one isn't as bad, I promise!). So many reviews, that you all blasted the 200 count out of the water. Thank you all so much!

"I am not writing that."

"Yes, you will. I don't want Snape charging in here thinking I'm holding you against your will."

Hermione stared at Ron, mouth open in absolute shock. "But you are holding me against my will, Ron. I will not write anything to Severus other than assure him I am okay." He must be sick with worry, she added privately.

The idea of what Severus was going through right now made Hermione almost physically ill. She knew he had insecurities. She knew he was probably thinking she had left him, and the thought killed her inside.

"Fine. I'll write it. I know you well enough, and I've got a quill from Fred and George that copies a person's handwriting," Ron decided. He walked out of the room and carefully locked it behind him. Hermione had graduated from being tied up to being locked inside the room, and she was thankful for the upgrade.

But that didn't stop her from plotting to overtake Ron at any minute. She had tried attacking him already, but he had quickly overpowered her. She had never hated her small frame more than she had in that moment. Since then, Ron generally kept his distance from her; never trying to come closer than two feet or so. Nor did he bring his wand into the room, for fear that Hermione would take it from her.

He had explained to her why her wandless magic wasn't working the other day. She had brought the question up as discreetly as she could manage. She had been impressed beyond herself to learn that Ron had actually done some reading and spent time practicing a spell that made it impossible for a certain person to perform magic without a wand in an area. He had performed it well, too. She couldn't even levitate a feather due to the strength of his spell.

She didn't blame him, not really. She would have made every grab for that stick that she could have. It was infuriating being held as a prisoner by Ron. If it had been anyone else, she would be in fear of her life. But as it was, it was just highly irritating. It was impossible to feel any real danger; deep down she still liked Ron. Being friends so long can do that to you.

Even now, she didn't hate him. Not really. And a part of her even understood his reasoning, as biased and ludicrous that it was. The entire thing was just...strange. Being held as a captive by one of her ex-boyfriend in their previously shared apartment definitely counted as a strange situation, in her opinion.

It was closing in on the fifth day that she had been here, though, and she was starting to get extremely fed up. And now, to add on it all, Ron was sending Severus a letter that said she didn't want to be with him anymore. Hermione felt a tear slid down her cheek. Severus would hate her. He might never get over it, either. He wouldn't know it wasn't her, if Ron was able to write it in her handwriting like he said.

Unless...it could be possible. Couldn't it? Well, anything was worth a shot at this point. "RON!"

No answer. Hermione took a deep breath and screamed his name at the top of her lungs. The lock clicked, and the door swung open.

"Merlin, 'Mione, are you trying to bring the house down?" Ron glared at her, the piece of parchment in hand.

"Ron, I'll write the letter." Hermione gave him her most defeated look, and offered him a small smile in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. "What do you want it to say?"

"Make it as mean as you can. Tell him you're done with him, you never want to see him again." Ron grinned at her. "I'm so glad you're starting to come around!"

Hermione smiled weakly at him, trying to ignore the bile that rose up in her mouth the more she thought about what she had to write. Hopefully, just maybe, her idea would work. Severus would be crushed, but perhaps he will see what she was trying to do. She took the parchment from Ron, and hastily swiped the single tear that slid down her cheek away.

Setting the quill on the parchment, she took a deep breath, and began to write.

Hermione watched the grey owl fly off, and chocked back a sob. Merlin, let him understand. She knew exactly how it looked to Severus, and she hated it. She had spent a couple sleepless nights running through how it appeared to him over and over again.

She had just disappeared. And if he had gone to question her friends, he would take their lack of knowledge as them protecting her. She knew he was too good of a man to use Legilimency on them. He would think they were covering for her.

"Well, now that's done, we can focus on spending time together," Ron said amicably as he sat down. "How about a game of Wizarding chess? I know you don't really know how to play, but I can teach you as we go along and it's a great way to pass the time."

Wizarding chess. Ron had been her friend for over ten years, and he still didn't believe that she hated the game. She steeled herself, and nodded at Ron. "Sure. Do you want white?"

"Nah, you can have it," he replied as he set the game up.

Hermione scoffed to herself. In his mind, offering someone white in a game of chess was like buying them a brand new broom. "Okay. Pawn to E three."

The game progressed for a few hours, and eventually ended in Hermione checkmating Ron because of his own mistake. Ron looked at her in disbelief after he had scanned the board for any possible ways of getting out of the checkmate.

"How? You don't even play!"

"I don't like to play, Ron. I never said I didn't know how," Hermione replied airily. She knew that the key to escaping lay in getting him to trust her, but it was a task that made her almost physically ill.

Ron ran his hand through his hair, and grinned at her. "Wow. We should play again, and this time I won't hold back."

"Ron, I'm actually really tired. Could I have a nap, maybe?" Hermione looked at him as sweetly as she could manage.

"Yeah, I guess. I told Harry I'd go see him anyways. Sleep tight, 'Mione."

Hermione nodded and watched him turn around. Quickly, she hopped up and ran as quietly as she could to the door, and put her ear against the door. She smiled to herself when she heard the front door shut.

One thing Ron didn't prepare for was the fact that she had lived in this apartment for two years with him, and she was Hermione Granger. There was a spare universal key in every single room that worked with every lock in the house. After being locked out of the bathroom the first month they had lived here, she had ordered the universal keys just in case something like this ever happened again.

Pulling a stool over, she climbed on top and felt above the door frame. Her hope started to drain as she neared the middle of the door frame. She had placed it on the left side last time, and it wasn't there. Squeezing her eyes shut in anticipation, she felt over to the right side.

She heaved a sigh of relief as she felt the cool metal of the key under her fingertips. She grabbed it and hopped down, her excitement causing her fingers to tremble as she fit the key in the lock and turned it. The door swung open, and Hermione let out a whoop of excitement. It wasn't total freedom, but she would tear the place apart until she found a way out.

Severus stared numbly at the floor, the patterns of the rug swirling together. He raised his glass to his lips, and knocked back the last of the firewhiskey. The quick warmth that enveloped him gave him a brief relief to the mind-numbing cold that had settled over him since Hermione had left.

He cringed. Hermione. Somehow, he knew this would happen. He knew having her in his life was too good to be true. It had only been a matter of time before she came to her senses. Two months. He was surprised she had stuck around that long, if he was being honest. In fact, he was still surprised she had stayed the very first morning.

Severus groaned, and summoned the decanter of whiskey. When the glass was full, he flicked his wand and it zoomed back to the shelf. I'll have to buy more soon. He was on his last bottle. Since visiting Longbottom's house, he had steadily worked his way through all seven bottles he owned. The constant drunken stupor was far better than the crushing despair that would overcome him with sobriety.

Even though he had, deep down, always known she would leave, the fact that she had didn't hurt any less. It was so sudden. The night before she left, they had been fine. She had kissed him good bye. Had she been planning all along to leave? Had it all been just a farce that he had been too blinded to see through? He swore loudly and took another gulp of whiskey.

This was bad, he knew. This sorrow. This pity. It wasn't like him. He dealt with everything in a precise manner, but here he was, the edges of his sanity were slowly unraveling due to a couple months with Granger.

Suddenly, Severus felt disgusted with himself. Why was he letting Granger's departure affecting him so? It was time to get back to the way his life had been before her. He stood up, and quickly regretted it.

Gritting his teeth, he waiting until most of the dizziness had abated and then he started for the stairs. He would sleep the liquor off, and then he would set about returning to his life. He entered his bedroom and sat down wearily on the bed.

He was in the middle of pulling his shoe off when a harsh tapping resounded through the room. What in the blazes? Peering around, he tried to locate where the sound was coming from until he finally realised it was the window. An owl?

He stood up quickly, ignoring the pounding in his head, and opened the window. The grey owl swooped in gracefully, and perched on the windowsill and dropped the envelope it held in its beak into the sill. It didn't wait for Severus to do anything more than watch the letter drop before it flew off.

Slowly, he picked up the letter and turned to over. It was addressed to him, in Hermione's handwriting. His heartbeat quickened. Perhaps this was it. This was the explanation as to why she did what she did. Yes, Hermione was too Gryffindorish to just leave. She must have had a reason, and now she was explaining it. Perhaps the owl had gotten lost. Although that didn't explain why it took five days to get it, but still. It was plausible.

Severus drew in a sharp breath as he sat down, and broke the wax seal on the envelope. He pulled out the paper, and opened it.

Severus,

I am writing to tell you that I am through with you. Thank you for all you have done, I appreciate it greatly. I have realised though, that I belong with Ron, he has stolen me, and my heart. I am sorry, but there is no way around the truth. The situation I am in stops me from calling to Aurelia, but if you could, I would appreciate it if you would call her whilst thinking of me, and send her to me. Do not follow her.

H.G.

Severus stared at the piece of parchment, and read the words over again. Ron. She had gone back to him. How fucking ironic. That was it. She had actually left him, and returned to Weasley. Just like that. He slid his thumb over the words on the paper.

That was it. He heaved in a breath, and shuddered violently as the reality of the words Hermione had written hit him full force. A strangled sob escaped his lips as he let the parchment flutter to the floor. He lifted a shaking hand and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at his scalp as his breathing quickened. She was gone, with him. There was no point in doing anything other than moving on with his life now.

Severus hunched over, burying his face in his hands as the utter despair he had been covering with whiskey suddenly washed over him once again. A tear slid down his nose, and landed on the letter.

Lifting his head, he sneered, his lip curling as he realised he was crying. He never cried. This was utterly ridiculous, and it would stop. Now. "Fergus!"

"Yes, Master?"

Severus glared at the elf as bitingly as he could manage, under the circumstances. "Bring me some strong, black coffee. And a hangover potion."

The elf nodded and disappeared. Severus stood and headed for his bathroom. He undressed quickly, and turned the shower on, setting the water to cold. He stepped in, and suppressed a shudder as the liquid ice flowed over him and eradicated the lingering warmth of the alcohol.

So, she was gone now. At least she had taken the time to tell him with finality, so he wouldn't be left hanging. He knew if she hadn't done that, he would have lived the rest of his life harboring a sliver of hope, despite himself.

Once the fog of the liquor had receded for the most part, he turned the water warmer and washed himself, steadily ignoring the bottle of flowery shampoo that belonged to her. Finished, he stepped out and cast a drying spell on himself. Hermione had insisted on stocking the bathroom with towels, but he had never gotten the point, especially when it was easier to just speak a word and be automatically dry.

Although, if he recalled, she did mention it had something to do with her hair. He scowled. He had to stop thinking of her. He would start clearing the house of everything that was hers tomorrow. For now, he had to find a distraction. He strode into his bedroom to find a tray holding a cup of steaming black liquid, and a small flask of light grey potion on the bed.

Wonderful. He gulped the potion down, and followed suit with the coffee, ignoring how the hot liquid scalded his tongue. Fergus knew he would have drank it without any regard for the heat, and Severus could tell he had cooled it down some. It still tingled unpleasantly, though he relished it. Any feeling besides the ones he didn't want to experience was good enough for him.

It was time to go to the Apothecary. He hadn't stocked the shelves in almost a week, and he knew a good portion of the potions would be spoiled. He put stasis spells on most of them, but some of the ones that he enjoyed brewing he left. They were also the ones that sold the quickest, so it didn't matter that he brewed those potions often.

Once he had finished dressing, he strode out of the house with an urgency he didn't know he had. He needed distraction, and soon. He hated feeling emotionally overwhelmed, and brewing never failed to calm him down.

Fergus watched as his master shut the front door behind him. Where was the Mistress Granger? She hadn't been home in days, and he was starting to worry. He liked her, Mistress Granger. She was like Master Severus, and treated him kindly, and he liked that.

Fergus sighed and shook his head. She needed to return, and soon. He headed up the stairs to the Master's bedroom. It had been an entire day since he had dusted, which was far too long. He felt the distant urge to hit himself for being so lacking, but he ignored it. He had never been a normal house elf. The magical enchantment that bound him to his masters had never been as unforgiving as others he had seen. Or perhaps it was the fact that he simply didn't wish to hurt himself over trivial things. Fergus didn't really know what it was that made him different, but he didn't mind it. He supposed every species had a member that was not quite like the rest.

He hummed quietly to himself as he went around the bedroom, his duster flying across the shelves with its usual speed and proficiency. When that was done, he made the bed. Hopping down after straightening the pillows, he jumped in surprise when he landed on something with a loud crinkling noise. Paper? He had just cleaned. How had he missed this scrap? Fergus scowled to himself as he bent to pick the parchment up.

Turning it over, he noticed the writing on it. Ah, a letter to Master Severus. He probably shouldn't read it, but something was telling him to. Fergus had learned long ago that when something told him to do something, he should probably do it. The instinctual magic that helped him along the way was nearly always right, and in some instances, although Fergus would never tell his prideful Master this, it was smarter even than Severus Snape.

He scanned over the paper over,and recognised Mistress Granger's impeccable writing. He had never learned to write, but he knew how to read, so he did. The Mistress left Master Severus? Fergus couldn't begin to understand why, but he continued reading til the end. This was certainly odd. Why did she need to have Master call her bird? If the bird was her familiar, Mistress Granger could call her from wherever she was.

Fergus shrugged. All though he wasn't happy with Mistress Granger leaving, she was a witch, after all, and she could do such things. However, Fergus thought as he placed the letter on the bed, he could call the bird for his Master, to make it easier on him. "Aurelia?"

The bird appeared at the open window easily, and Fergus felt quite pleased with himself. "The Mistress Granger wants you, Aurelia. She sent Master Severus to call you for her, I don't know why, but I called you for him." He puffed up his chest as pride swelled in his words. "I always look out for Master Severus."

The bird looked at him curiously, and hopped towards him. There it was again, the feeling telling him to do something. He stuck out his hand, and the golden bird placed its beak to his wrist. A series of images flashed across his mind, and Fergus nodded in understanding. His Master will find out soon enough. "Will you wait for Master Severus?"

The bird blinked, and Fergus took that as a yes. He placed Mistress Granger's note on the pillows of Master Severus' bed, in plain view, and walked out.

Satisfied, Severus headed home. It was late, and he need to rest before removing Hermione's things tomorrow. Upon entering the house, he hung his cloak up and headed straight upstairs. He got to his bedroom, and glanced at the clock. Nearly ten. He had been brewing for longer than he thought.

A three-note trill reached his ears, and he whipped around to see Aurelia perched on top of his pillow, Hermione's letter in her beak. "What are you doing here?" he asked, not expecting an answer. He went to the bed and tugged the note from the birds beak, and suddenly noticed the cleanliness of the bedroom. "Ah. Fergus."

The elf appeared with the usual pop, and looked up at him expectantly. "Yes, sir?"

"Why is the bird here?"

"Fergus wanted to help, sir."

"Help with what?"

"With what Mistress Granger is telling you to do."

"Fergus, if you wanted to help, why is Aurelia still here? Miss...Granger wants her bird back," Severus said wearily, trying to ignore the difficult he had saying her name. "Fergus," he added kindly, "Miss Granger doesn't live here anymore."

Fergus raised an eyebrow. "If that is what Master would like to think, then fine."

"What I'd like to – Fergus, she left."

"Read the note again, Master."

"Don't call me that. And why? It says plainly enough that she has no wish to be with me anymore."

"Sir," the elf regarded him with the air of condescension. "Fergus understands he is being too forward here, but you are being incredibly dimwitted for someone of Master's intelligence." With that, the elf bowed and disappeared with another loud pop.

Severus glared witheringly at the space the wayward elf had just occupied, and sat down with the note still in hand. "Read it again, he says. Bloody elves." The bird merely trilled again in reply, and looked at him expectantly. Severus rolled his eyes, and began to read the note again.

The words were as crushing as they had been the first time, but this time Severus noted the oddness of the wording. "He has stolen me?" He spoke to the air, but Aurelia responded with a loud, doleful sounding note. Her writing was different then too, Severus noticed. Her normally neat writing dipped off into the realm of nearly childish fonts in some areas.

The bird let out a single note, and Severus jerked up as the spark of an idea hit him. "It couldn't be..." he stared at the parchment musingly. Holding it up again he read the words for the third time, this time ignoring what most of it said, and focusing on the letters that weren't written in Hermione's neat cursive. "Ron, he has stolen me. Aurelia, follow her."

Suddenly, Severus felt as if a great weight had been lifted off him. She didn't leave. She had been taken from him. He stood up swiftly, only to be staggered as the full realisation of what Hermione had written hit him full on. Ronald Weasley had kidnapped Hermione.

Severus could no more stop the wave of intense rage that washed over him than he could stop the earth from shifting. His very fingertips shook with the intensity of his anger, and he clenched his fist in an effort to stop the trembling. He took a deep breath, and the pounding abated slowly. He did not want rage controlling him. No, Weasley didn't deserve blind, reckless rage.

He deserved far, far more.

See? Not as bad...and don't worry. The next chapter is almost entirely devoted to beating Ron up in various ways ;D Also, just a quick note, I completely understand that Ron is so far OOC that it's nearly unbelievable. I apologise if that irks anyone, but I had far too much fun writing the Severus-beats-up-Ron scene to be truly apologetic, and that couldn't have happened with Ron being his normal self. So. Enjoy and review!