The Time In Between

Chapter 7: Mounting Tension

"Here," she said, passing his a cup of tea, "I'm going to go and bring Harry inside. I will take the next watch. I left a sling on your bed. After you get dressed, put it on. Your arm really should be elevated a bit. I'll change the dressing on it when I come back in." At this last sentence, she flushed slightly, remembering how she changed his dressing the previous night. Giving him a half-smile, she turned, lifting up the tent flat to go relieve Harry.

It was his turn to wear the locket. He hated it. He hated the weight of it against his chest. He hated that despite the heat of his body, it would remain cold. He hated the way he could feel its irregular heartbeat against the regular rhythm of his own. He especially hated the darkness that accompanied it. Everything seemed to be emphasized when he was wearing the locket. His hunger, the pain in his arm, and especially his desire for Hermione.

He was watching her now, curled up on a chair, reading the book of children's stories. She was blissfully unaware of thoughts that he was having. She was twirling her hair absently as she flipped the pages, her long legs swung over the side the chair. Occasionally she would bite her bottom lip, as if in contemplation of something she had just read. At one point, she put the book on her chest, leaning back on the other arm of the chair, her long hair almost touching the floor, her eyes closed. She started to stretch, reminding Ron of Crookshanks. Her back arching off the chair, arms thrown back over her head, a look of pleasure on her face as her muscles stretched. Ron let his eyes wander over her, taking in every inch of her body. She looked like she was offering herself up to him. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes skimmed over her chest. He could see the roundness of her breasts and just make out their slightly hardened tips, probably due to the coldness in the tent. He felt an instant surge of heat to his groin and shifted uncomfortably on his bunk. She was doing this on purpose, he thought, teasing him. Then later, in the darkness of the night, she would creep into his bunk, pressing into him and expect him to lie there and not do all of the things he fantasized about doing.

Hermione turned, to see Ron glaring at her. She shifted in the chair, noticing the chain of the locket peeking out from his shirt. She sighed inwardly. That damn locket. They all had noticed the affect it had on them when they wore it but it had a profound effect on Ron. She had suggested more than once that maybe he shouldn't have to wear it but he wouldn't hear of it. Of course he said that when he wasn't wearing it. To suggest anything to him when he had it on would be to risk having one's head bitten off. But yet, despite the tension during the day, when the night came, it would melt away. Harry had taken to doing the first nightshift, leaving Hermione and Ron to get a few hours of sleep. She would always start off in her own bunk but after a few minutes, she would go over to Ron. He wouldn't say a word, just throw back his blanket and make room for her. She could feel all of the stress melt away as he put his arms around her, pulling her back into him. Within minutes she would fall asleep. But the daytime was a different beast altogether.

Ron would never have the locket on at night, his twelve-hour shift seemed to fall during the day. His surliness would begin with breakfast, or the lack there of. It would continue as Harry and Hermione would spend the morning in discussion about where the other horcruxes would be. Ron would sit and brood on his bunk, offering very little or he would be outside, keeping watch. In the afternoon, Hermione was usually on watch until early evening. She would sit outside the tent, sometime joined by Harry and they would try destroying the locket only to be disappointed in their attempts. Ron would come outside but rarely say anything. If he did speak, it was with a tone of condescension. Harry could sense the toll it was taking on Hermione and would often volunteer to wear the locket more than his allotted time. But even then, the conversations between Hermione and Ron were tense and stressful.

Now here they were, mid-morning. Hermione had gotten close enough to a few campers yesterday to summon some bread and cheese. They had feasted on it last night and had the remains of it this morning. But it was getting closer to lunchtime and there was no food left. They would have to take their chances trying to catch a fish in the nearby stream.