40 Days

November 21, 1997

What would you do for it?

Anything.

The question from the day before echoed through my head the next day as I woke up, my whole body stiff, my last memory of Harry knocking me out. I forced myself to get up. Neither one of us brought up what had happened yesterday, we both had masteries in silence by now. I tried to help him as I hadn't been the past few days with breakfast and just general tidying. Harry worked around me, not asking me to do anything, merely adjusting his tasks as I completed some of them.

Despite being knocked out it was probably the best sleep I had had in ages, and I felt a renewed sense of determination to figure out a plan of action. I would save all of us, and then maybe I would go pay a visit to the Durselys.

I re-read The Tales of Beedle the Bard over and over trying to figure out what Dumbledore may have been trying to tell us. I did everything I could think of to see if there was some hidden message in the writing.

I wrote down the first letter of every sentence. I counted the syllables of each word, writing them down to see if there was a pattern. I studied the cover, running my fingertips carefully over it, teasing the ends to see if there was something hiding there. Things I had done before, but repeated obsessively, trying to find the clue that would help us, that would let us move forward from stagnating here on this hill.

"Hermione."

We had barely spoken today, and his voice made me jump as I looked over to where he stood. "Come, let's go for a walk. You haven't left the tent in days."

I looked down at the book again. "No, I want to try counting the vowels. I don't think—"

"Hermione, you've done that. Just take a break and come for a walk. We both need a distraction."

I didn't glance back up at him as I tightened my hands on the book. "You go. I'll stay here."

The weight of his stare was heavy, and I waited tensely for him to try to force me to go, but he sighed, and turned to leave. I let out a small huff of breath when he was gone, not quite able to believe he hadn't pressed the issue. Maybe my breakdown yesterday would work in my favor.

I relaxed in the chair, leaning back to stare up at the ceiling of the tent, bracing my hands behind my head. The air seemed clearer with Harry away from me. I needed to get that locket away from him.

Before the Horcrux ate my best friend, turning him into someone I couldn't recognize.

I stood up to pace as a plan of action started to take form in my mind. I reached into my pocket, palming my wand. Harry wouldn't expect me to attack him with magic. I wobbled as I spun to pace in the other direction almost too quickly.

It was like he was imperiused, that's all. I just needed to get the locket off him. I stopped suddenly, pulling a chair towards the middle of the tent facing the entrance, and sat, my wand pointing towards the tent entrance.

I sat there unmoving, my arm shaking and aching from the strain of keeping it focused on the entrance for what seemed like hours. My fingertips felt frozen, but I refused to move as it grew darker outside.

Where the bloody hell was he?

Finally, I heard a noise, and I caught my breath. Harry didn't enter so much as he fell inside the tent blood covering his torso. I jumped up and ran but it was like I was moving underwater. I dropped my wand and sped towards my bag, bringing out the dittany and rushing back to drop to my knees next to him where he had flopped over on the floor.

I scrambled over him with my hands running over his body, searching for wounds. "Where are you hurt? Where is it coming from?"

His hand came and captured mine as I slid my hand down his stomach under his shirt, pressing my palm harder against his warm skin, his stomach flexing. "That feels nice."

I struggled with my emotions as I looked at him and he smirked at me. It was hard to squeeze the words out. "Why–what–Harry..."

He looked at me as he spoke. "Accio wand." My wand flew into his free hand. "Because I know you, Hermione."

He held both of our wands pointing at me. "No cheating."

It was like I was a puppet and my strings were cut. I collapsed on him, hugging him tightly as I started to cry. "Please Harry. Please. Please. Please give it to me. It's hurting you."

Let me save you.

How had I missed how far he had spiraled since we got the locket? Why hadn't I taken it that first day when I saw how far it had pushed Ron?

What had he done? Blood spatters covered him from head to toe. Hadn't I just thought about how lucky it was that Harry always just disarmed death eaters?

Harry cleaned himself with his wand while I sobbed into his chest and then picked me up. "I told you should have gone walking with me. You'd be feeling better right now."

He carried me to his bed, laying me there like I was a doll. I didn't care. Fuck it, I just laid there, my eyes glazed. The lights went out, but I could see him put our wands right next to the bed within easy reach. I didn't bother to try to grab mine. He was faster than me, anyway.

I was afraid to ask him what he had done. I didn't think I could handle it right now, so I stayed mute while he climbed into bed behind me. He didn't lie down, though. He braced himself over me with one hand, while the other stroked my hair. "You're not going to ask me?"

I didn't bother responding and his hand drifted lower to rest on my throat. "I never thought you were a coward, Hermione."

I tried to turn away from him, and his hand tightened on my throat. This was it, wasn't it? The creeping threat that I tried to ignore every time his hands touched me. "Are you going to hurt me, Harry?"

His head moved close, his lips near mine. "Only a little bit."

Then he leaned forward, pressing his lips to mine, his tongue sliding out to push aggressively into my mouth. His hand never moved as he held me pinned for his kiss. My first kiss. His other hand moved to grasp my hair, making sure I couldn't move my head at all as he tasted me.

I was panting by the time he pulled back, resting his forehead against mine. "What would you do for the locket, Hermione?"

This time, I answered out loud. "Anything."

"Good." He whispered in satisfaction.