40 Days

November 28, 1997

I sat at the table, staring down at a calendar I had pulled from my beaded bag. I moved my finger slowly across the days counting. Ron had left on the fifteenth.

Thirteen days. I whispered it to myself. So little time and yet Harry and I were completely off the rails. It had been two days since he cast the imperius curse at me.

The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it.

The remembered words from Barty Crouch Jr impersonating Alastor Moody echoed in my head and my shoulders hunched a little. What did it say about me that I haven't even fought? Not like I should have.

The intellectual part of me was unwillingly fascinated as I experienced the effects of the curse. I hadn't realized how intimate it would feel to have someone moving about in your head. The first day I had been under the spell, my hold on reality had been hazy and couldn't really process what was going on around me. I still wasn't too sure what had happened that first day. I had just floated along, almost as if Harry had drugged me.

But the tight clutch of the spell had eased by the second day, or Harry had learned to control it better. I almost felt myself. Almost . The curse was like a leash. I could feel the coils of the curse moving along inside my bloodstream and I knew at any moment it could tighten to bring me under control.

Sometimes the hold of the curse felt so light I thought I could break free. Maybe freedom was right in front of me and I was too chickenshit to reach for it. I heard a noise and looked up into Harry's pale eyes. He wasn't smiling, but there were the tiniest crinkles at the edges of his eyes and I could feel his amusement along the connection created by the imperius curse between our magics.

Harry reached for me, holding his hand out and I stood up, walking to him and letting him pull me into his lap. He shifted, leaning backwards and urging me to rest against his chest, his hands stroking through my wild hair.

"Do you want to be free of me, Hermione?"

I stroked my fingers along his bare chest, hearing his heartbeat along with a weaker pulsing from the locket. The push for the truth pulled at me, but it was weaker than it had been, not squeezing me breathless, just an easily fought impulse.

"Would you let me go if I wanted to leave, Harry?"

His hand paused on his stroking of my hair, cradling my head against his chest. "I think so. It would be hard. I think I'll ..."

The silence stretched as I waited for him to continue. "You'll what?" He still didn't answer, and I lifted my head to look at him. It looked like fear on his face as he stared into the fire.

"I think I'm afraid of dying alone." His hand rose to close over the locket, his fist so tight his knuckles were white. His gaze met mine, the fire reflected in his eyes. The fatalistic surety of his voice regarding his death made my heart thump hard.

"You're not dying."

His expression didn't change. "Why not? Because I'm too young? Like Cedric? Because I'm skilled? Like Moody? Because life owes me a fucking good turn? Like Sirius? Why exactly am I not dying? The real question is, who else is going to die before me?"

"You're not dying!" I repeated angrily. What the hell was the point of everything? What the hell were we doing here? Going slowly insane in fucking Cumbria! I clutched at him, my nails finding grooves in his shoulders I had already worn into him with other activities. "We're going to fucking win this!"

Harry laughed at me, as if I was some crazy animal doing tricks and it just flamed my anger higher. I leaned down and bit his lip. I tasted the bite of his blood, and he grunted, his laughter stopping.

Harry stared at me as I pulled back, a small trickle of blood dripping down his chin. "Are we going to win? Weren't you just asking me to let you go?"

I licked my lips, tasting his blood, and made my decision. "I'm with you."

"To death?"

"Until victory. Until we win. Until we go home and get our happily ever after because we fucking earned it."

"Your optimism is irritating, but the sound of you saying fuck is really hot." Harry said lightly, his fist finally releasing the locket to come up to my hair again.

I looked at him as he ran his hands lightly through my hair. I followed his tongue as he licked his lips.

His lips.

His lips that showed no injury even though I had just bitten him. Hadn't I? I sucked in a shaky breath, feeling dizzy. "There's no escape, is there?"

He stood up with me in his arms, walking towards the bed. "No, not for either of us."