40 Days

November 25, 1997

My heart pounded as we walked through the tiny shop, picking up soup mixes and other shelf stable items to try to keep us through a month at least. Even though we had gone early on Tuesday and the shop was empty except for the bored clerk, I still felt like eyes were watching me and my skin prickled uncomfortably in fear.

We had obtained hairs from a couple in their late twenties, using some of the stolen store of Polyjuice.

Polyjuiced Harry strolled along next to me without a care as I moved quickly through the aisles, holding the packages I passed to him. We had no money, so even though I felt guilty about it, I had transfigured several leaves into banknotes to hand to the muggle clerk as payment.

I couldn't seem to calm down though, the feeling growing worse as we quickly shopped, even when we apparated back and stepped into the relative safety of the tent the feeling just intensified. It was a struggle to breathe, and I wobbled, feeling like I was choking.

Harry grabbed me, spinning me to face him as the ragged sound of my breathing echoed through the tent. I was gasping now, my throat too tight to let air through as I watched his features rearrange themselves back from the stranger's face he had worn for our trip back into the Harry I knew.

His wand was in his hand, and I felt the impact of the spell hit me.

"Imperio. Breath, Hermione, calm down." The spell shot through my veins like a drug, like the most wonderful feeling. The cool rush of air hit me, a lazy calmness making the tips of my mouth curl upward.

Somewhere deep inside, an alarm jangled, but it was easy to ignore when I stared into his crystalline green eyes feeling like I was floating. His hand came up to cup my cheek, leaning his lips closer to mine. "You feel good?"

The locket brushed against me, sharp and hot as always, but the pain muted and transformed as the wires in my brain crossed, turning the painful bite into pleasure.

You feel good?

You feel good.

"Yes." I breathed.