A/N: Thank you for all the response to this story!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Chapter 3

Someone was shaking his shoulder. Ron groaned and half-heartedly waved his hand at whoever was trying to wake him up. He felt his hand lightly strike something, and heard an annoyed grunt above him.

"Stop. I don't wanna get up yet," He muttered without opening his eyes.

A deep and frighteningly familiar voice sounded above his head. "Whether you wish to get up or not is irrelevant Mr. Weasley. We have to move away from here."

"Snape!" Ron shot up with his eyes now wide open, realizing it wasn't one of his dorm mates who had been shaking him. Upon the heels of that realization was the more horrifying thought that he had just hit the most feared teacher at Hogwarts in the face.

"Professor Snape," sneered the potion master, but his voice didn't seem quite as cold as usual.

His teacher's admonishment went unheeded, however, as a wave of pain and dizziness overcame Ron. He groaned and clutched his bright red hair, taking deep breaths and focusing on not being sick.

"Here, take this."

A small vial was pushed into his hands, containing a thick purple liquid. Ron looked questioningly up at his professor.

"It will relieve the symptoms of the concussion, and some of the pain from your leg," Snape explained, to Ron's surprise.

Grimacing, but realizing the necessity of taking the potion, Ron plugged his nose in a useless attempt to block out the inevitably disgusting taste and tipped the vial's contents into his mouth. He spluttered a few times, but swallowed the liquid down. Almost immediately, the dizziness and headache he had been experiencing disappeared.

Ron was surprised upon meeting his teacher's black eyes to see something like concern dancing across the face which he had surmised only ever showed anger or scorn. Unwilling to go so far as to say thank you to Snape, he gave a small nod to show that the potion worked.

Immediately the concern disappeared that Professor Snape's features rearranged themselves into the more familiar expression of annoyance.

"What, precisely, were you thinking running off like that into the woods Weasley? I gave you very specific and clear instructions that you were to stay close to me. Instead, you did the exact opposite, and ran straight into trouble. Did your foolish Gryffindor tendencies compel you to end the day throwing yourself into danger from which someone else has to drag you out of? Idiot!"

"But professor, there were all those spiders!" Ron protested from his place on the ground. He tried to shift his position, but a stabbing pain from his leg caused his to quickly abort the maneuver.

"Spiders I was able to deal with in only a matter of minutes with no immediate danger to myself, or to you if you had remained and done as you were told!" Professor Snape snarled. "However, you decided to run off and get yourself nearly killed. I suppose you thought it would earn you a story to share with all your Gryffindor friends."

Knowing that any further protest would be futile, Ron remained silent. He watched Snape as he lectured, noticing just how bedraggled his usually impeccably dressed teacher appeared. The professor's black robes were covered with patches of dirt and leaves, and even torn in a few places. His greasy hair, never a strong point in the first place, was matted and even had a few twigs stuck in it. The bag that had held the mushrooms was nowhere in sight. Ron also noted that Snape was breathing heavily, and despite his frustration he had remained kneeling and held himself very still, with one arm placed against his ribs.

Taking this in, Ron wondered just what had happened after he had blacked out. Evidently, his teacher had defeated the troll, but it appeared that he had not remained unscathed from the encounter.

Ron let his eyes rove around the vicinity, realizing that the pair of them were sitting in a clearing created by the toll's destructive attacks. Broken branches lay chaotically across ground and jagged stumps of trees jutted up like teeth towards the now cloudy sky.

Then he saw a lump like a huge boulder on the other side of the devastated area. After a few more moments of inspection, Ron realized that it was the downed toll.

Looking at Professor Snape, who had stopped speaking and was rummaging around in his pockets, Ron asked, "Is it dead?"

Snape paused in his activities for a moment and simply answered, "Yes," before taking out another vial and drinking it himself.

Then Professor Snape bent over Ron to look at his leg. Ron followed his gaze, but quickly looked away upon spying the injury. The potion and his distraction had kept his attention away from the injury, but seeing it brought all the pain back like a tidal wave, and Ron let out a small groan.

Snape turned his eyes to Ron. "The potion I gave you healed your concussion and reduced some of the pain from your broken leg. However, its analgesic affects are not very long lasting."

At this Ron only gave another groan, because of the pain as much as because of his professor's statements.

Professor Snape continued, "We cannot stay here. You need medical attention, and the dead troll will soon attract more creatures to this area. I will levitate you so that we can leave the forest."

Ron nodded in understanding, clenching his teeth tightly in anticipatory pain. Snape waved his wand and incanted "mobilicorpus" and Ron felt himself raise from the ground. The movement was surprisingly gentle and only caused a small amount of extra pain.

With a glance at his student to assess his condition, Professor Snape began walking, guiding Ron in front of him and ensuring that he did not bump into anything. A little guiltily, Ron remembered when Sirius had used this charm on an unconscious Snape in third year. The animagus had not been particularly careful as he had moved Snape through the tunnel back to Hogwarts.

The forest around them was surprisingly silent as they made their way under the scraggy branches overhead. Ron could only hear the rustle of Snape's feet and slightly strained breathing behind him.

Watching above as the sky periodically appeared between gaps in the trees of the forest, Ron tried to distract himself from the pain in his leg. The potion Snape had given was wearing off, and sharp spasms were knifing up from the injury.

As his discomfort grew, Ron shut his eyes began murmuring under his breath. Snape, ever observant, eyed his student and asked, "What are you doing Weasley?"

His voice held its usual sneer, but underneath there was a note of worry in the deep baritone.

"Chess," Ron answered tightly.

Although he couldn't see Professor Snape's face, he could hear the raised eyebrow in the teacher's tone. "Chess?"

"Yes, sir. To distract myself," Ron answered. It was something he had done as soon as he had become good enough at the game to keep track of the pieces in his head. With his dad he often would play invisible games, each stating their move to the other periodically through the week. When he wanted to be distracted, he would play games against himself. It wasn't the same as playing against an actual opponent, but it served its purpose and kept his mind occupied.

Professor Snape didn't immediately reply, and Ron internally cursed himself for saying anything. Now I look like a wimp, Ron groused.

"Pawn to d4."

Ron opened his eyes in surprise and tried unsuccessfully to turn to see his professor's face. "Professor?" he asked hesitantly.

"Pawn to d4," Snape repeated in an even tone with an undercurrent of challenge.

Still shocked, Ron shut his eyes again and visualized a chess board. "Um… pawn to d5," he responded.

Immediately, Professor Snape countered with, "Pawn to f4."

Again Ron hesitated, unbelieving that he was actually playing chess with Snape of all people, but then he vocalized his next move.

At first Ron played slowly, thinking through each of his moves with careful consideration, but as time passed he gained confidence and comfort from the familiarity of the game and his deliberation was more swift. He found that Snape was as cunning in chess as he was in life, and his focus was completely on the game. With a touch of pride, he noticed Snape taking longer to decide on his next move as the game progressed.

The pain from his injury didn't go away, and he still let out the occasional moan when the intensity increased at times, but for the most part his mind was taken up with pawns and rooks and elaborate strategies.

Ron was waiting for Professor Snape to make the next move when they finally emerged from the trees of the Forbidden Forest and the welcome sight of Hogwarts came into view. He gave a loud sigh of relief, and was surprised to hear the sigh echoed behind him.

Looking around, Ron was momentarily confused by the unusual amount of activity on the grounds considering the late hour, before belatedly realizing that it was because of him. Hermione and Harry must have noticed that he hadn't come back from detention and gone to get Professor McGonagall. Ron allowed himself a moment to wonder what dreadful imaginings his friends had come up with when he had failed to return. They probably figured that Snape had finally gone and used him in a potion's experiment.

Suddenly a commotion rose when the professors who had been looking for him and Snape saw them coming towards the castle. In a flurry of activity Ronald found himself laid upon a stretcher and heard the voice of Madame Pomfrey overhead. As Ron was swept away to the infirmary he surprised himself with the thought, I never got to finish my game with Snape.

Ron lay awake in the silence of the infirmary. Upon arrival earlier in the evening, he had been moved to one of the hospital beds while Madam Pomfrey tended to his leg and other scrapes and bruises. As she had done so, Ron noticed Professor Snape lingering in the background, explaining the evening's events to Dumbledore. Ron couldn't hear Snape's voice, but his face was as scornful as ever while he talked. In the light of the infirmary Ron could see just how disheveled his professor looked, and he could also see some bruises standing out against that pale face that he hadn't seen before

When Madam Pomfrey was finished with Ron, she had given him a potion to help him go to sleep. As he nodded off he had seen the mediwitch turn with determination to Snape, who was still holding himself stiffly and bracing his arm against his side, and order the dour Professor to a bed. He had fallen asleep to the professor's indignant but futile protests.

Now the infirmary was quiet and empty. Ron heard some shuffling coming from a bed near him. He closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. Light footsteps, only audible because of the complete lack of any other sound, came towards his bed and stopped about two meters away.

Ron tried to remain still, but a draft blew through the infirmary and he couldn't suppress a small shiver. A voice which Ron recognized to be Snape's murmured an incantation, and the sheets around Ron warmed up instantly. Keeping still, Ron heard footsteps, leading away this time, out of the infirmary. After a few moments, he fell asleep again, comfortably warm and secure.

Sunlight was drifting in through the infirmary windows, lighting up the room in a soft glow, when Ron woke up the next morning. He lay still for a moment with early morning lethargy, which was quickly driven away by a shrill voice calling his name.

"Ronald! Oh Ronald, I'm so glad you're okay. When you didn't come back last night we were so worried. And then, when you did come back we weren't allowed to see you and we were sent to bed, but we were told we could come in the morning."

Hermione's rambling was accompanied by an exited but gentle hug. Through her bushy hair Ron could see Harry standing with a smile on his face.

"Tell us what happened Ron!" Harry demanded, sitting in the chair by the bed while Hermione remained perched at Ron's feet.

Ron gave his friends a brief description of the events the night before. Harry grimaced in sympathy as Ron explained having to clean the grime off of the cleaning rods, and listened in commiseration as his red-haired friend told of the spiders. He told them of meeting the troll, and of being levitated back through the forest by Snape.

"That's rough, Ron. It must have been awful going through that with only Snape for company," Harry said, ignoring Hermione's glare.

Ordinarily Ron wouldn't have given it a seconds thought before agreeing with Harry. But he thought back through the previous night and couldn't quite muster up the will to agree.

He thought about Snape jumping in front of a troll to protect him, of the injuries the professor had received for the act. He thought about the brief flash of concern in Snape's eyes as he tended to Ron and the gentle way he had guided him through the trees. The forest was a maze of bushes and branches, but not once had Snape let Ron hit anything on the way back. He thought about Snape playing a game of chess with him to help distract him from the pain in his leg and he thought about the man getting up in the night to check on his student and casting a warming charm to keep him comfortable.

"Actually… Professor Snape wasn't so bad." Hermione looked up in surprise when Ron used Snape's title. He ignored Harry's puzzled look and Hermione's pleased expression, swinging his feet out of bed. Checking to see that Madame Pomfrey was nowhere around, he stood and gestured to his friends, indicating his wish to escape the infirmary. Hermione gave him a quick once over, reassuring herself that he was okay, before leading the way with Harry to the door.

As Ron turned to follow, he saw a flash of white in the corner of his eye. Looking to the bedside table he saw a note sitting upon its surface. Perplexed, he picked up the note. He was even more confused when he saw that the writing upon it was Professor Snape's. When he read the contents of the note his lips parted and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Ron, are you coming?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Yes," Ron quickly responded. He turned and followed his friends out of the infirmary. As he walked he looked down at the note in his hand and read its contents again with a smile.

Rook to b6

End.