Enchanted

Part 2
Turning and Twisting


Harry breathed heavily, trying to regain the breath he had lost as he practically ran for his life. Finally, he had escaped, and he was safe in the empty Gryffindor, fifth year, boys' dormitory. Collapsing onto his soft bed, he recalled the events that had just occurred. He knew it was wrong to abandon Hermione in her condition, being under an enchantment and all, but when he thought about the specific spell it was, he reasoned it was all right. She wasn't herself anyway, so she wouldn't be offended.

He just couldn't believe it though. Hermione, of all people! It really made him uneasy to see her like that, flirting with him and coming so close to kissing him. She was supposed to be his friend, who could remain sane and rational. She was probably the last girl on earth he would expect to act the opposite. This spell was completely changing her, and he didn't like it one bit. Hermione wasn't supposed to be the person he fell in love with...was she?

"Shut up," he muttered to himself. "She's under a spell. She's not thinking her thoughts, or acting of free will. I can't blame her for any of her actions, and I can't assume it means a thing. I should really let this go."

"Let what go?" Ron had entered the dorm, with a bemused look on his face. "Talking to your invisible friend?"

Harry didn't say anything, not even hi. Normally, he would come up with some equally sarcastic answer, and they would carry on with their ridiculous conversation for a long time before finally addressing more serious issues. (Example: "Yes, I am talking to my invisible friend," Harry would answer. "His name is Maurice. Maurice, say hi to Ron." Ron would laugh and play along. "Nice to meet you, Maurice. By the way, I absolutely love your hair," and so it would go on.)

(A/N: Out of character? Wholly. There's plenty more to come. And don't make fun of my friend Maurice! He can't take all the insults.)

"What's up?" Ron asked, eyeing him wondrously. "Either the world is ending, or something bizarre is happening."

"Don't even joke about the first one -- it's the latter," he answered gloomily. (It seems that everyone seems to be saying "the latter," and it's seeped into my brain too.) "Guess what?"

"What?" Ron asked curiously. "Tell me."

"Just take a stab at it."

"Ummm...Malfoy's found secret love with his goon Crabbe?" he asked hopefully. "That'll be the day --"

Harry actually found himself grinning, despite everything. "No, but close. This does have something to do with that dumb slimeball."

"What, he *is* gay?" Ron suggested, his grin increasing. He was starting to get caught up in this horrifying but hilarious vision of Draco Malfoy. "That would be so funny...and if he fell for an ugly Muggle boy..."

"Ron, sorry to interrupt your secret fantasies, but this is serious," he said, still inwardly laughing about it. Ron glared at him, his brown irises going dark.

"Well, if it was so serious, why did you make me guess?" he asked crossly.

"Because I don't really want to talk about it..."

Ron raised a clenched fist, trying to look menacing, but he burst out laughing, and therefore, he looked just as threatening as Neville Longbottom standing up to them in first year with fists ready and raised. "Spill it or I'll knock it out of you," he joked.

Harry snickered. "All right, all right. You know the Entrancement Enchantment?" He scanned Ron's face for any sort of reaction, but he just looked indifferent.

"Is this what you wanted to tell me at lunch?" he asked lazily, falling back onto a sitting position his own four-poster, facing Harry.

"Yes, and no. Okay, first off, I've been studying this spell, and it's like a Slow Acting Venom," he tried to think of the explanation he had given Hermione, but a condensed version to save time. "Really gradual, but then it just rockets off."

"And then?" he wondered. (Haha, 'Dude Where's My Car!' "And then...and then...and then...")

"I was getting there!" Harry said indignantly. "Anyway, the scary part is..." He paused dramatically, which made him feel kind of stupid...so a few seconds afterwards, he said it. "--it worked."

Ron gasped, his mouth hanging wide open. "On Hermione, you mean?"

"Who else?" Harry cried, throwing his arms into the air.

He leaped back up onto his feet and hopped up and down. "I can't believe it!"

"Me neither!" Harry yelled. He realized they were starting to sound like overexcited teenaged girls, very similar to Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who had just discovered the cutest, most popular boy in school (*coughHarrycough*) liked them.

"But that's just crazy...it's not possible -- Malfoy knows how to do a spell?" Ron said in utter shock.

Harry burst out laughing, which pretty much ruined the magnitude of the situation. "Come on, Ron, this is bad," he said seriously. "You should have seen Hermione; I mean, she was so -- so flirtatious that it scared me. In the library, she kept flirting with me, and complimenting me, and giggling nonstop, and then she sat in my lap and tried to kiss me! I know she would have, but then Madam Pince came over and threw us out! A whole lot of people saw us. You probably could have hatched a dragon egg on my face...

"Then, she made me close my eyes and dragged me to the Prefect Lounge, but I couldn't see because she had taken off my glasses, saying I looked better without them. I knew she would make a move on me then, so I said I had a surprise, made *her* close her eyes, and I just only got away." Harry exhaled deeply; he had explained the entire story without taking a breath once.

Ron wasn't shaken or fascinated -- he was...envious? Yes, very jealous-looking. "You're lucky to have a girl treat you that way."

"*Lucky?!* This is *Hermione!* Hermione Granger!" he was shouting now. Surely the boys in the corridor outside, if they hadn't already heard them shouting about the Entrancement Enchantment, had to have heard him now. "You know, Hermione Granger? This spell is so creepy that I can't stand it. I'd rather face a group Dementors --wait, I've already done that," he said cynically.

"I wish I had your problem," Ron said, still looking at him like there had been another great injustice, in which Harry came off the winner of the situation and Ron was left with nothing.

"What problem?" Seamus had just come into the room.

"Harry has a girl who's madly in love with him," Ron informed him. "She's tried on occasion to sit in his lap, kiss him, and bring him to snog in the Prefect Lounge."

The sandy-blonde haired boy stared at Harry in total shock and disbelief. "Is there something *wrong* with that? Anyone would kill to have that problem! Why are we even calling this a 'problem?' That's the best thing I've ever heard."

"It's Hermione!" Harry said angrily. When he saw Seamus' smirk, he added, "She's under the Entrancement Enchantment!"

"I saw her coming in the portrait hole," Seamus informed him, "right before I went upstairs. Anyway, she was asking where you went. She should be here right..."

They all checked their wristwatches at exactly the same time. "NOW!" they shouted simultaneously, as the door creaked opened.

The person in the doorway stared at them. Ron and Seamus groaned, but Harry, who had dived behind his four-poster and was in the process of trying to crawl and hide underneath, looked thoroughly relieved.

"Aw, it's just Dean," Seamus said, waving his hand like he wasn't important at all.

Dean stared at them in confusion. "And a cheery hallo to you all, too."

"We thought you were Hermione," Ron explained.

"An easy mistake," the six-foot-four, black boy said derisively. "But she just left...said something about 'I guess I'll see Harry at dinner'..."

"Oh no she won't," he said flatly. "I prefer starving."

"You are really one messed up idiot," Seamus said, looking at Harry and shaking his head.

Ron was distracted, surveying Dean closely. "Hmmm, that's true...if you stand right there in the sunlight, from this angle, I can almost see the resemblance--"

"If you're blind and completely mental! Where'd she go?" Harry asked eagerly.

"I thought you were trying to get away!" Ron exclaimed, though still offended. It was true, from his certain spot, there was a real similarity...

"I am," he replied nonchalantly. "I need to find out which places not to go, so I can avoid her."

"Someone fill me in here," Dean cut in, making a time-out sign with his hands. "Are you two fighting?"

"The opposite." Since Harry refused to reiterate it again, Ron retold the tale, and Seamus and Dean listened intently.

"Hey, that's not bad," Dean replied cheerfully. "Not only have you got a girl who worships the ground you walk on -- okay, well a second, for you, Harry--" Harry's face flushed, "--but you can get a better grade. Call it studying for Charms firsthand; maybe Flitwick will give you extra credit."

"A real blessing in disguise," Harry said dryly. His marks weren't bad in Charms; he had inherited some of his mother's well-known charm skills. After all, what was one 'A' in a class if he had [another] girl stalking him?

"You never know," Seamus said to him.

"I don't know what it is, but I don't like it," Harry said firmly, crossing his arms. Then, changing his mind, he uncrossed it, formed a fist with one hand, and punched it into the other palm determinedly. "And I'll find a way to stop it all."

* * *

"Harry, you are coming down to breakfast and that is that," Ron said firmly, tugging on Harry's arm as he tried to lug him down the stairs from the dormitory and into the common room. "Dobby isn't going to keep sneaking up into our dorm to give you your dinner, nor will I. Face it, you're going to have to see Hermione eventually. Except for Divination, she's in ALL your classes. There's no getting away forever. Don't think she won't drop the act just because there's a teacher around."

Harry didn't want to admit it, but despite how studious Hermione was, he really didn't think this would overpower the enchantment. It was not a hopeful thought. In fact, nothing that morning seemed like it could lift his spirits after last afternoon. But in the end, he agreed to come down to breakfast, at least, thinking he could just sit on the very opposite end of the very long Gryffindor table from her.

When he and Ron entered the Great Hall, Malfoy immediately caught Harry's eye and smirked nastily. He pointed and said something to his goons, who sniggered mulishly. Harry could have sworn Malfoy's lips had formed the four syllables of 'Her-mi-o-ne.' Luckily, she was not at the table, but Harry made sure to get a seat in the most crowded area, so there was no chance of her joining him.

She did come down about ten minutes after they did, looking unspeakably nervous. She whooshed right past where Harry was sitting, refusing to touch any of his food, and sat down in a chair at the opposite end, barely murmuring a greeting as she passed.

"Well, what do you think of that?" Seamus said incredulously, casting his green-blue eyes over at Hermione, whose face was buried behind a very thick book with faded lettering on the leather-bound cover. 'The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts' could just be made out, but surprisingly, only the normally forgetful Neville Longbottom remembered what Hermione said in first year about what that book contained information on. However, he was the only fifth-year Gryffindor boy who didn't know about Harry's predicament.

Ron shook his head at Seamus and Dean, considering this perfectly normal. "No, no, it makes sense." And he went on to refresh their memories of exactly how an Entrancement Enchantment worked. "See, Harry? That's why I told you not to worry about eating breakfast this morning."

"Yeah...I guess so," he muttered casually, but inside, he could never be more relieved. His chest felt considerably lightened of a great burden, and he finally picked up his fork and began to eat, with a newfound (glory! j/k) vigor. Why had he been making such a big deal? He didn't even have to try to avoid Hermione right now. He should have realized how the enchantment worked -- first, it started off with a bang, as proved yesterday. Then the Slow Acting Venom part kicked in. For a couple of days, Harry would have nothing to worry about.

* * *

It was as if nothing at all had happened in the beginning. Besides being less of a loud-mouthed, bossy person, Hermione was still the same. Obsessed with schoolwork... It was easy enough to get her attention off Harry in classes, and he was hardly the only person she focused on. Sometimes, she constantly bickered with Ron and didn't even say a word to Harry. After she got over her deathly shyness that was undoubtedly the first phase, she dared to talk to him...though it was always strange and awkward.

"I like your -- um, hair," she told Harry, blushing the next morning when he came down to the Great Hall. That day, she had gotten there first, since Harry had overslept. Ron snorted into his porridge, and Seamus and Dean exchanged knowing grins. Ginny shot Hermione a sympathetic look.

"Oh," Harry said, bewildered, though very aware that his hair, even if this could be considered a good day for it, was still uncooperative and going about every which way. "Thanks."

And Hermione buried herself behind her book ('Modern Magical History'), the red of her forehead still visible.

Once the discomfiture melted away and her confidence steadily grew, she was content with going back to being friends with Harry. He found he could carry on a conversation with her quite normally, and no one found it odd if she inquired where Harry was. The gushing compliments were in question, along with the fact that she had taken to actually finishing his homework for him, but otherwise, nothing was obvious.

Yet.

* * *

Harry and Hermione had taken to studying in the common room, since Madam Pince had been frowning at the two of them ever since that memorable day. Ron had given up studying almost entirely, with the upcoming Valentine's Day ball the only thing on his mind. So here Harry and Hermione were, alone together...

"I still don't get the point of making a potion for purple ear hair," Harry groaned, rifling through page after page in their Potions textbook.

"There is none," Hermione answered distractedly, translating a document written in the Runic alphabet.

He dropped the book onto the table with a loud slamming noise. "Snape does it to torture us. We aren't even learning about this lot! I've still got my stupid Love Potions essay to do..."

"That's why he does it," she remarked. "Since he's being tortured to teach us about Love Potions, he's decided to torture us even further. That's Snape for you."

"I think I'll move on to Charms, then." Harry jammed his Potions assignment into his bookbag and pulled out 'The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five' and his trusty wand. He flipped to a certain page about restoration magic and raised his arm. "All right then... A simple Patching Spell. Shouldn't be too hard." He aimed the point of his wand at one of Uncle Vernon's foul, brown socks with a large hole in the right toe and said an incantation.

Nothing happened.

"It should have worked! I did it just like the book said..." He glanced down at the page again, and then attempted the spell a second time. And a third...and a fourth... When the most he had gotten was a single thread connecting the gap, he dropped his wand on the armrest and leaned back in his chair. "Another mental block."

Hermione finally looked up from her homework, laying her quill down on top of it. "We're just going to have to do this the Summoning Spell way."

He looked at her. "What, threaten me with a Horntail?"

"No," she said impatiently, picking up his wand and placing it back into his hands. He felt her hand trembling as she closed his fingers around the wooden stick. "We're going to make you practice this a thousand times until you get it. This is a very useful charm, Harry. Unless you'd rather pick up sewing and an embroidery class, you should probably learn it."

And so he tried, but failed every time.

"It's quite simple, Harry..."

"That's what you've been telling me for the past half hour," he said, irritated. "It hasn't helped at all."

She sighed. "I know you wouldn't want to learn the theory... So then what would?"

He merely shrugged. Maybe a dragon really would help him learn this spell...as if a dragon had a pair of socks it needed him to patch up.

Hermione walked over to him and adjusted his grip on his wand. Her hands were shaking again, and since they were next to the roaring fireplace and she was wearing a thick woolen sweater, it had nothing to do with the temperature.

Maybe it was just an excuse to hold his hands, and Harry had no patience for that blasted enchantment. "I've been holding my wand that way for years, Hermione, I really don't think--"

She closed her fist over his and pulled his arm up. "Say the spell again. I'll do it with you this time."

*Couldn't you use your own wand?* he wanted to snap at her, but if this really helped, then he couldn't complain anymore... He brought his wand swishing down, bringing Hermione's arm with it. This was her signal to say the word at the exact same time he did. A burst of aquamarine sparks came out of the tip of the wand, reaching the filthy sock and sewing up the hole.

"Finally!" Harry exclaimed.

"Finally," Hermione repeated. She sounded thoroughly relieved, though she said 'Diffindo!' at the sock and made him try the spell on his own. It worked now. It came to him so easily that he wondered why he had ever had trouble in the first place.

"I guess I just needed your help," he admitted to Hermione.

Other than her cheeks going a light shade of pink, nothing else showed that she was really under the Entrancement Enchantment.

* * *

Albeit gradually, things were changing. Whenever Harry showed up in the morning, or was leaving to go to bed at night, Hermione gave him a friendly hug. When they sat next to each other in class, she always managed to have her arm positioned in just the right place so that she could write her essay and have her arm touching Harry's. Sometimes, she'd sling her arm around his shoulders when they walked down the corridors, or even held his hand.

Harry hated to think it, and especially not tell it to Ron or other boys, but so far, it wasn't so bad. If it hadn't been for the enchantment, he wouldn't complain at all. He'd probably even start to like Hermione more than a friend... But then common sense would return, and he'd wipe the offending thoughts from his brain almost instantly.

With the O.W.L.s coming ever-closer, and five-a-week Quidditch practices, Harry had more than enough on his mind to worry about Hermione 24/7. Quidditch was his favorite distraction -- and it was an added bonus that Hermione did not particularly enjoy the sport. Soaring through the air on his broomstick seemed to make all his worries vanish.

"Well, see you," Harry said mostly to Ron. He was ready to head off to the locker room with the rest of the Gryffindor team, for their match that day against Ravenclaw.

"Yeah," Ron said offhandedly, drooling and staring in the direction of the Ravenclaw girls (avoiding Padma, of course) who were entering the stadium. "Here's to hoping you don't smash headlong into a goal post."

Harry shot him a venomous look; an 'I-Can't-Believe-You-Brought-That-Up-Again; You're-Going-to-Pay-For-That-Later' sort of expression. "That was ages ago... You know I don't like Cho anymore."

He could have sworn he saw Hermione smile.

"Well, good luck to you, Harry!" she said, standing slightly on her tiptoes (Harry had grown quite a bit) to give him a kiss on the cheek. This was the first time since that day in the library that she had attempted to kiss him. However, her aim was off, and it caught it half on the lips.

He turned bright crimson, tucking his Firebolt under his arms, and jetted away to the locker rooms. He was certain this had made Ron smile.

* * *

Those days when a kiss on the lips was an accident were long gone. It had gotten serious. She had grown more passionate and obsessive too, following him everywhere, hugging and attempting to snog him at every chance, practically sitting in his lap at meals and eating off his plate, sitting awfully close in the library (the number of times they had gotten the 'no making out in the library' lecture from Madam Pince!) and common room.

It really didn't help to have Ron, Seamus, and Dean calling him mentally unbalanced at every chance they could get, or even worse, taunting them in front of everyone else. And Hermione, just like the three boys (though it was in a very different way), never gave him a break.

Which was why Harry was especially dreading their Double Potions with the Slytherins that afternoon. He didn't want to see the true trouble Malfoy had caused, as it was bound to give him tremendous pleasure. And the rest of the Slytherins, for that matter. Anything that involved an illegal spell with hilarious consequences on Gryffindors was something they'd take delight in. Then just to make it all better, Snape...

Harry buried his head in his hand. He might as well dig a hole and climb into it, to rot away in his shame. His whole face was bright crimson just thinking about what might happen. Every time he had envisioned how a Potions class would go, it involved Hermione sharing a chair with him and trying to stick her tongue down his throat, Snape giving him a year's detentions and taking away all of Gryffindor's House points, all the Slytherins guffawing and rolling on the stone floors with laughter. Malfoy would be laughing the hardest of all, with a huge smirk on his face that was incapable of being wiped away. Then there he'd be, jetting out of the dungeons about to literally die in shame, with Hermione still at his heels.

That afternoon was the umpteenth time in a few days that Ron had to drag Harry somewhere, whether it was to a class, out of the boys' dormitory, out of the common room, or anywhere Hermione might possibly be. This was the most difficult one yet. A lengthy scuffle ensued, which resulted with Ron getting a bruise near his temple and Harry apologizing profusely -- or as best he could while pressing his fingers against his lower lip to clot the bleeding.

"You're going," Ron said firmly, still clutching a hand to his head. "Either that or we're both skiving off Potions, and with my abysmal grade, I can't afford to do that. Plus, you know my mum. She'd go berserk, send me a Howler, screech something about 'putting one toe out of line,' and then I'd be back home at the Burrow, scrubbing old cauldrons infested with Chizpurfles and de-gnoming the garden."

"Fine," Harry groaned. "I'll come. But we are staying far, far away from Hermione, even if it means I have to sit next to Malfoy and beat her off with a collapsible cauldron."

~ ~ ~

But before we see what happened in Potions, let's take a look at the past few days...

Harry woke up that morning with a great feeling of unease. His dream, or a nightmare, rather, had confirmed his worst suspicions about the enchantment. If he didn't find a way to stop it, he wouldn't be able to shake Hermione off until he reached his grave. In the dream, he had married her purely out of pity, which was a terrible thing. Except...he had found himself starting to fall in love...

With an exaggerated, violently sweeping gesture, he pushed his curtains aside and tumbled off his four-poster. The other boys were already awake and watching him intently. He looked back, his eyes still lidded with tiredness. "What?" he asked, yawning.

"Did you know--?" Dean started.

Seamus picked it up. "--that you have a very hilarious--"

"--unfortunate tendency--" Neville said, his entire face lit up like he had just learned a great secret.

"...of talking in your sleep?" Ron finished, a glint in his brown eyes that never meant anything good.

Harry buried his messy head in his hand. Oh, he could just imagine what he had might have said out loud... "Oh, great. What did I say?"

"Let's put it this way," Ron said flippantly, "you did the unthinkable -- used 'love,' 'I do,' and 'Hermione' all in the same sentence."

"Was it preceeded by the statement: 'this is something I would never say in a million years'?" he groaned.

They didn't say anything, as his question had been rhetorical.

"It was a dream," he said flatly.

"You know what they say about dreams," Seamus said in a singsong voice.

"I do," Harry said shortly. "And don't say it."

"'A dream is--" Dean started, and the rest of them finished, as it seemed they had developed a habit of doing, "--a wish that your heart makes when you're sleeping.'"

*

"Hello, Harry," Hermione said brightly, running up to him as he climbed out of the portrait hole. "I waited for you."

"Gee, thanks," he said sarcastically.

She threw her arms around him so tightly that it nearly suffocated him. To help it, she had also brought her face forward and was leaning in to kiss him--

When something soared in the air above them and exploded, coating everyone underneath in a pasty, glue-like blue substance. Hermione let out a small shriek, and Harry took advantage of this opportunity to step away and then run off. When he neared the Great Hall, then he performed a simple Cleaning Spell on his robes and walked inside. He was proud that he had gotten rid of Hermione so easily, mainly thanks to Fred and George. Never had he been glad that they had performed a prank on him.

*

"I'm going to the library," Hermione said, fixing her gaze on Harry's emerald eyes. "Want to come?"

*Not for a thousand Galleons,* he thought privately. "No, I -- er...you know Madam Pince." It was the best excuse he could come up with, and in reality, it wasn't a bad one at all. Madam Pince was a perfect excuse to avoid the library. Every time they entered, she looked like she wanted to kick them out. Sometimes, she did.

"How about you, Ron?" she asked, turning to her other friend. It was surprising that she still talked to him; perhaps her obsession with Harry didn't leave her entirely committed to being with him every second.

But Ron went out of his way to make it that way. "Can't," he said breezily, "I've got to go find Seamus and Dean..."

"What for?" Harry asked quickly, with a pleading look in his eyes.

Ron ignored this, trying to suppress the amused grin on his face. "Valentine's Day Ball," he mumbled, before getting up and jetting away.

"Everything is about that ruddy Valentine's Day Ball with Ron," Harry grumbled. "Can't he think of anything else? Exactly how one-track minded can you get?" He realized that he was telling this to the wrong person.

"Aren't you looking forward to the ball?" Hermione asked, lapsing into the dream-like voice that she had regained since that first day in the library, when the enchantment began to take its effect. That was just about the state she had reached.

"No."

"Oh, yes, me too," she said with relish, displaying her inability to hear properly, and tendency imagine the things she wanted to hear. "I hear it'll be dozens of times better than the Yule Ball, and you know how that was. We were trying to show off to Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. I just know it will be absolutely marvelous and a great deal of fun."

"I'm sure it won't be."

"Someone's awfully negative," she said, concerned, moving closer to him.

Harry pushed her back, forcing a false, sugary grin onto his face. "I'm positive. See? All happiness and sunshine and smiles and rainbows--"

"You look very adorable that way," she mused. "Smile like that more often."

It faded at once.

"Have you got a date for the Yule Ball?" Hermione asked, slowly easing her body closer to his...and closer...until she was sitting on his thigh. Reaching her arms up, she fastened them around his shoulders and clung there. She tilted her head to look him in the eye. Looking back, he was surprised to see faint traces of anxiety in her eyes.

"Yes," he lied.

"Oh." Her arms, now limp, dropped back to her sides. "Who with?"

His immediate reaction was to say Cho. That would get Hermione right steaming. But if the enchantment hadn't worn off by the ball, and he had to go with the girl he said, Cho probably would turn him down. There was only one person he knew for sure that would agree to go with him... "Ginny," he said, unable to believe that he was actually saying that.

"Ginny never told me," she commented, sounding her. Little by little, she had slid back into her own original seat.

"It's kind of a secret. We promised we wouldn't tell anyone." Harry was surprised how realistic this was coming out. It was a well-known fact that he was a terrible liar. Anyone could tell by the shifty look that his eyes always got, or the way he'd fidget uncomfortably, or his voice would have a slight quaver in it. Either Hermione's sense of common sense had gone when the enchantment came, or she was just very gullible, but she seemed to buy this explanation.

She stood to her feet, smoothing out her robes. "Okay. Well, I better get going...the library, you know..."

Harry found this odd, but he was in no way complaining. "Sure then."

She turned away, and he breathed a low sigh of relief. And then she turned back again, looking hesitant.

He found her stares unnerving. It was like she was trying to decide what she was going to do to him, and this made him extremely nervous. "Yes?"

"I forgot something..." she said vaguely.

"What?"

Hermione walked back to him, stopped when she was right in front, closed her eyes, and leaned her head down. Her lips connected this time, however briefly. She pushed her lips up hard against his with a sort of hunger and desire, like she had been longing to do this for years. Harry was attempting to push her away, but his will was beginning to dissolve...

To his surprise, she was the one who pulled away first. It wasn't lack of breath; that had hardly been enough to render one winded. "That," she whispered, her nose still touching his. But the look in her eyes had one of guilt -- and were people under enchantments allowed to show emotions outwardly that way?

Now Harry almost wished he had agreed to go to the library with Hermione, to research more and try to figure this enchantment out. With all the searching he had done on his own, chances of a cure seemed bleak. He read basically every book available in the Hogwarts library (when Hermione wasn't in there, of course), but not a single spellbook gave the counter-spell for a person enchanted with the Entrancement Enchantment. He was thoroughly exhausted with running from Hermione and trying to stop her from kissing him, while looking for a cure at the same time, which didn't seem to exist. Again, he *almost* wished he had agreed to go to the library with Hermione...

But remember that emphasis on 'almost.'

~ ~ ~

Double Potions with the Slytherins

It wasn't as bad as he had imagined at all. Hermione was how she always was in Potions: hidden behind her bubbling cauldron and adding ingredients, hissing instructions in Neville's ear, ignoring all the taunting she was getting from the Slytherins. Naturally, every one of them knew about the Entrancement Enchantment thing by now. And what would you expect; Malfoy was the most pleased.

"At least we're done with Love Potions," Harry said happily, not at all complaining as he added one pig's bladder to his potion. "How do you think you did on your essay though? I had a total learning block with it..."

"Did you see Hermione's?" Ron asked, a look of horror on his face.

He looked up from his sliced beetroot. "No, why?"

Ron held up six long fingers; five on his left, one on his right.

"Six sheets? That's not so bad, considering this is Hermione; mine was about three and a half--"

"Six ROLLS," he breathed, looking like the mere thought of it was impossible. "You know how long rolls of parchment are...we were all complaining in third year when we thought we'd have to do a two-roll essay for Snape in DADA."

"I guess Hermione really hasn't stopped being so engrossed in her studies," Harry said. *But then,* he thought to himself, *if anyone should know anything about loving somebody against your will because of magic, that'll be Hermione.* He didn't want to say this aloud, as it would give the Slytherins a hearty laugh.

Luckily, Hermione didn't do a thing that period. She didn't even come over to their table (which was directly across the classroom from hers), except once, and that was to ask if she could borrow a scoop of beetle eyes, as she was fresh out. She aimed this question at Ron, and didn't even look at Harry, and especially not Malfoy, who was two rows back.

"Hey, Granger," he called loudly, and all the eyes in the class swung over to him. "How's the Entrancement Enchantment?"

She went even redder than she had ever gone before, and half-ran back to her own table after thanking Ron...but forgetting the beetle eyes in her haste.

"Wonder why she acted that way?" Ron remarked, a bemused expression on her face. "She looked like she had seen a Dementor."

Harry shrugged. "At least she didn't do anything... It's almost as if she *knows* she should tone down her charms and not try anything in front of Snape..."

"Didn't you say that was impossible, though, to fight an Entrancement Enchantment?" he asked interestedly.

He nodded slowly. "That's what all my research said. Sure, Hermione's strong-willed and ambitious and can do anything she has her mind set on, but..."

He couldn't talk anymore. Snape was giving him another of his infamous, evil glares, so Harry shut his mouth and went back to mixing his potion, trying to avoid the very opposite look that Malfoy was giving him, which clearly showed his glee.

~

Harry and Ron were walking down the halls after Divination. Professor Trelawny, for the first time ever, had not seen any omens for Harry dying, even when she checked his palm again, looked into a crystal ball, quickly drew up a star chart, and tried various other ways. For once, he wanted a death omen. He kept insisting that she try it again, even though he never usually believed her predictions. Instead, she found love and romance in every one, and she said that he would fall in love with his best friend -- girl, of course.

"I can't believe it," he moaned after they descended the ladder.

"Hey, why not? At least you have an automatic date for the Valentine's Ball," Ron said, with that ever-so familiar twinge of envy in his voice. " I mean, not a single girl wants to go with me. Padma's told the entire school that I'm a horrible date because I kept goggling over Hermione."

Harry snickered, privately siding with Padma. "If it gets so bad, you might have to go with Eloise Midgen."

"Her nose is off-center!" Ron yelled. "And I don't care what Hermione said; her acne is NOT loads better--"

Then Harry broke into a run and ducked behind an elegant tapestry of iridescent unicorns in the hall. "We're in the Arithmancy corridor. Hermione might be around still. I have to get away. It's driving me mad, Ron! I have to stop her!" he exclaimed.

"You do know what you have to do now, right?" Ron said to him.

"What?" Harry asked, panting. He wiped off his sweaty forehead, and backed against the wall, cautiously peeking to see if Hermione was nearby.

Ron watched his best friend panicking with some amusement. It was strange to see Harry this way; the effects of the enchantment on Hermione had changed him also. "Obvious, isn't it? I don't know why you didn't think of it. Well, it sort of is a last resort, I mean, pretty desperate," he said. "Plain and simple. You should just go --"

"Good idea," Harry said, taking off without even listening to the rest. "I think I saw her."

Ron sighed. "For someone so brave, you can be a complete chicken sometimes," he said to Harry's retreating figure, which disappeared to the right through a doorway. When he was running away, he had a knack of constantly switching directions to make it harder for Hermione to follow him.

"Hello, Ron!" Hermione said cheerfully. "Have you seen Harry? I haven't seen him all week! You'd think he was hiding!" She giggled girlishly.

"Quite the contrary," Ron invented. "He was searching for you too. Anyway, he went thataway." He pointed -- to the exact way Harry had run off to.

Hermione beamed hugely. "Thanks, Ron!" Then she skipped off, humming a cheerful tune.

Ron grinned deviously. "I know I shouldn't be enjoying this..."

* * *

Harry took a deep breath. He had managed to escape Hermione -- he hoped. He probably shouldn't have run off though; Ron's advice might have been helpful, whatever it was. Right now, he needed a place to hide, so he darted into an empty classroom.

He regained his breath and then looked around the room. It wasn't empty at all. With a jolt of fear, he realized he had walked into a classroom with the teacher sitting at their desk grading papers, and it just so happened to be Flitwick.

The tiny wizard, who was sitting atop a stack of spellbooks on his chair just so he could see over his desk, lifted his head and looked at who had entered. "Hello, Mr. Potter," he said in his familiar squeaky voice. "What brings you here?"

"Well, I was trying to hide from Hermione --" He cut himself off. "I mean...I mean..." Suddenly it hit him like a Bludger in the face. Surely Ron's advice had been to consult Flitwick. Even if it wasn't, it was good advice. Though Harry usually went out of his way to avoid bringing a professor into his private life, he couldn't do that this time. Who else would know more about Entrancement Enchantments than the Charms teacher? "Well, I need some guidance."

"I'll be glad to help!" the small wizard said keenly. He laid the papers down, and walked over to him, looking up. "What do you need?"

"I was trying to study ahead," Harry lied, but it was Dean's idea anyway. "And I was really -- err...*fascinated* with Entrancement Enchantments."

"Ahhh, yes," Flitwick said, bobbing his head up and down so vigorously that his pointed hat went askew. "It is a very interesting spell."

"And I was searching through all the library books," he said truthfully now. "There was a lot of information, but I just couldn't find one thing: the cure or counter-spell."

"That's correct."

Harry stared down at his teacher blankly. "Er -- what's correct?"

"It doesn't have a counter-spell," Professor Flitwick said as casually as if he was talking about the weather. "For what makes it so appealing, not to mention illegal, is that it is one of the only spells without a known spell, potion, or any sort of magic to counteract it."

Harry gaped. "But that can't be --" he spluttered. "You said it was like Newton's third law of motion! 'Every action has an equal but opposite reaction.' You said all spells were like that!" (And there was your science lesson for the day; I know all about that motion crap from learning physics [how boring!])

"Calm down, Mr. Potter, those were only the basics. We're learning about very complex spells here. Wizard scientists have been studying this spell for a very long time. Now that your O.W.L.s are approaching, not everything will fit into those categories of beginning Charms. You of all people should know that some things just break a few rules, shouldn't you?" He winked. "Now shouldn't you be going outside? It's Friday, I suggest you go out and enjoy the sunshine."

"I guess so," he mumbled. "Thanks, professor." He shuffled to the door.

"Why are you so disappointed?" Flitwick inquired, stopping him.

Harry paused. Should he tell him? Maybe it would be best if he did...he had no other choice... "Well, I know someone who's under the spell, and there's no way to get it off," he replied, trying to remain vague.

However, Flitwick was no clueless Gilderoy Lockhart. He, thanks to Irma's gossip in the staff room, knew all about Harry's predicament. After all, it was a secret, so naturally, everyone at Hogwarts knew. "Miss Granger, I presume. After you, I'm sure? I'm basing this on the facts of the Entrancement Enchantment. Well, if you could get her here, I'm sure I could check her and see if I can do something at all."

Harry threw his hands in the air. "But I've been running all day, I'm not going to go and talk to her now! She's still enchanted."

"You want her cured, don't you?"

"You just plainly stated there was no cure!" he nearly yelled. It really was no way to act in front of one of his professors, but this was a serious matter. The truth, added with the stress caused from Hermione's actions, was really starting to drive him towards the brink of insanity.

Flitwick sighed, and calmly said, "Just get her to me when you get the chance, and I'll see what's going on."

"She's entranced, that's what!"

"Please, Mr. Potter, just relax. I'll see you later; I'm quite busy grading your exam scores." He ushered Harry out of the classroom and shut the door behind him.

*'Relax?' 'Don't worry?'* How on earth could people give him that advice?! If there was ever a time when he couldn't relax (and yes, there were many), this was definitely one of them. Harry groaned and leaned his back against the closed door, running his fingers through his hair.

"Hard day?" a voice asked.

He didn't have to look up or even open his eyes. "Hello, Hermione," he said dully. Just his luck... Then he realized he could get her to Flitwick right now, and see if he couldn't fix her up after all.

She giggled; the horrible giggle she had developed that Harry recognized from miles away and constantly echoed through his mind. "I know what will make you better!"

Somehow, Harry knew it would only make him worse. She wrapped her arms around him pulled him close to her. Harry's eyes snapped open, and he started to protest, but it really was no use. Hermione stood up on her tiptoes and brought her arms around his neck to give him a long, passionate kiss.

Harry was too stunned to react or push her away. For the past few weeks, Hermione had attempted to kiss him several times, but she never truly succeeded. Either Madam Pince wrenched them apart and squawked lectures, or Harry managed to find a way to escape. *Why do I escape, though?* he thought, as one's mind is prone to getting jumbled up when someone else's lips are pressed against theirs. It makes it extremely difficult to concentrate or remember anything else. And so, with the primal instincts of any teenaged boy, he kissed her back.

It took a few seconds before he grasped that he was only making it worse. He shoved Hermione away and then panted for air like he had been underwater without gillyweed. His cheeks flushed and his face burned with shame and embarrassment. "Don't -- ever do -- that again," he said, completely out of breath, and not sounded very commanding at all.

A smile was still playing on her lips, but she said nothing.

With lightning agility only a Seeker could possess, he grabbed her wrist like it was the Golden Snitch itself, and knocked on the door with his other hand. "Professor Flitwick!" he called out proudly. "I've got her!"

Hermione's wrist went very slack in his grasp, and she gasped. "No, don't --" she begged.

*Now what kind of person under an Entrancement Enchantment does that?* he wondered, and remembered that Hermione had done that plenty of times over the past week. He still had a look of deep thoughtfulness on his face when Flitwick opened the door.

"Back already, Mr. Potter? Is it that serious?" He let them in, giving one short glance at Harry's lipsticked lips, before studying Hermione closely.

The girl looked deathly pale as a ghost, but Harry didn't seem to notice; he was too anxious for all this mess to be over -- if it could be. Oh, he hoped it could be. Flitwick had been speaking like he knew how to fix her up.

Well, Mr. Potter, why don't you fill me in on the way she's been acting ever since she was enchanted?" Flitwick waved his wand and two chairs behind students' desks flew over and landed in front of his desk. He motioned for them to sit, and he settled down in his very high chair.

Harry was used to long explanations, and he took a deep breath and began. Flitwick listened fixedly, occasionally nodding, or murmuring things like, "Ahhh, yes," "that makes sense," and "I see."

"Well?" Harry asked, when he had finished a few minute's later; the story probably would have taken a lot longer if he didn't choose to hide some very embarrassing details.

"That does sound curiously like she's enchanted." (*Well, duh!* Harry thought to himself, incensed.) Professor Flitwick leaned over and stared searchingly into Harry's green eyes. "I just have one question -- how did she get under the spell?"

Harry tried to hide his smile, obvious proof of his glee. Now it was time to bring Malfoy into this and get him in trouble for using a spell without authorization, which was illegal, not to mention, and in the school corridors to top it off. "It was Draco Malfoy, sir."

"Hmmm...well, we'll have to find Mr. Malfoy then. My guess is he's either in the Slytherin common room or out on the grounds like the rest of the students--"

"He's roaming the corridors with Crabbe and Goyle," Harry said quickly. Discreetly, so Flitwick wouldn't notice (though Hermione had), he had whispered, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," when he pulled the Marauders Map out of his pocket and under the desk. "In fact, they're right outside the classroom." Harry had a strong feeling that they were the ones who pointed Hermione to where he went, and now they were waiting to see what happened.

"Then I'll go get them." He got up and went out of the classroom for a while.

"Harry?" Hermione whispered, her face white and her eyes shining with tears.

"What?" he asked, whipping around to look at her. She hadn't said a word since they got in the classroom. And the voice she just used sounded surprisingly normal, though undoubtedly frightened.

"Before this gets out of hand, I have to tell you something--" she began, but Flitwick pushed the door open and came back inside, with a smirking Malfoy behind him.

"So I'm guessing it is you?" Flitwick questioned him. "That's an awfully big smile, Mr. Malfoy, after just getting caught for performing a charm against school rules and wizarding laws -- and in the hallways to top it off."

"Oh, but Professor," he said greasily, "I did no such thing. This is just a figment of Miss Granger and Mr. Potter's imaginations. You see, they assumed I did a spell, because I waved my wand, said something, and pink sparks shot out."

"Yeah, that's called *doing a spell,*" Harry said angrily, but Flitwick raised a hand for him to cease.

"Let Mr. Malfoy continue his story."

Malfoy gave Harry a smug grin before Flitwick faced him again. "As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, I gave them the impression that I had performed a spell, but the only one I used was to make sparks fly out. I said no Entrancement Enchantment, nor do I even know how one would accomplish that. I do study, but that spell is far too advanced -- way beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level--"

"Are you saying that you didn't even do a spell?" the professor asked incredulously.

Malfoy nodded.

Harry glared at him, enraged. What kind of stupid, unbelievable lie was he trying to get away with? Hermione, though, was staring down at the ground.

Flitwick got an idea. "Wait a minute, let me see your wand. The Slytherins haven't been in my class since before this spell was supposedly performed, due to certain circumstances. Now before I do this, are there any other spells you previously did that I'm not supposed to know about?"

Malfoy shook his head, still grinning. Harry just couldn't believe him. Surely Malfoy had to have cursed some innocent Gryffindor in the hallways in the process of a week!

Flitwick raised Malfoy's wand and said clearly, "Prior Incantato!" A gray-tinted image of sparks shooting out at the tip of the wand made Malfoy beam with pride.

"That's not right, he could have just done that seconds before you caught him!" Harry burst out, outraged that Malfoy had found a way out of getting in trouble.

"But you see, I can also tell when the spell was performed. That one said precisely ten days ago. I think he's telling the truth," Flitwick replied.

"Try a truth telling spell!" Harry cried out. "Veritaserum, anything--"

Flitwick lowered Malfoy's wand, looking at Harry sideways. "Mr. Potter, you do heavily suspect Mr. Malfoy of doing this --"

"Of course I do," he said flatly. "How else could Hermione be acting like this?"

They turned to look at her, and she squirmed nervously in her seat, avoiding all three of their gazes.

"Wait a minute, Mr. Malfoy. If you didn't really do a spell, why did you tell them you had performed the Entrancement Enchantment?" Flitwick asked sharply.

He had a look of innocence on his pointed face that was about as convincing as the ones Fred and George Weasley pulled off. "It was just a childish, puerile (vocab. word!) schoolboy prank. I had no idea it would be taken so seriously..."

Harry jumped out of his seat. "That's a lie!"

"Now calm down. Mr. Potter, do you really want me to perform a Truth Spell on him? Maybe we can actually get to the bottom of this, you think?" Harry nodded, and Flitwick rolled back the sleeves of his robes and raised his wand.

"DON'T!" Hermione shrieked, standing up so swiftly and forcefully that her chair was knocked over. Everyone stared at her, as she burst into tears. "Oh, I didn't want it to get this far," she sobbed.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"Harry," she said in a feeble voice that was just above a whisper, "Malfoy was telling the truth...Professor Flitwick probably suspected it all along... I knew that Malfoy hadn't performed the right spell, because I didn't feel a thing, and I've studied tons about Entrancement Enchantments; I was lying to you and Ron when I told you otherwise. But I -- I just pretended that he actually did and that it worked..." She buried her face in her hands and collapsed back into her seat that the professor had put right-side up.

"So you're -- you're saying you *faked* the whole thing?" Harry asked her, feeling an overwhelming sensation of incredulity all over. "But why?"

"Don't you know?" she asked miserably. "It would be better if everyone didn't stare at me while I said this, it is awfully embarrassing..." Flitwick turned and pretended to be very interested in a bird outside the window, Harry still looked at her sideways, and Malfoy, of course, didn't listen to her at all and watched her intently, an even bigger smirk on his face.

"I did it because -- because..." She took a deep breath and began to talk so fast that it was all they could do to understand her. "I did it because I like you, Harry; I mean, I *really* like you...but since you considered me only as a friend, and that would probably end if you ever found out the truth, I took advantage of Malfoy's prank, just like he knew I would, because he had found out about my feelings and wanted to embarrass me. By pretending I was under the spell, I was able to do all the things I had dreamed about, but dare not do for the sake of our friendship," she said very quickly.

Harry gawked at her. "Really?"

She nodded sadly, too ashamed to hold her head up. "I'm sorry I caused all this mess...everything is all my fault. I never should have done this, it got so out of hand! I had no idea it would go this far...and I -- I'm sorry," she said, burying her tear-streaked face in her hands again, and then she ran out of the classroom.

"Hermione, wait!" Harry yelled, and went after her, still dubious about her confession. How could it be?

"So then it's all solved, and I'm not in trouble?" Malfoy asked Flitwick hopefully, once the other two were gone.

"Not quite," Flitwick said disapprovingly. "You have helped cause a lot of grief, Mr. Malfoy. That's why I'm taking twenty points from Slytherin. And I know Miss Granger and Mr. Potter still have some things to sort out -- but it should come out right in the end."

~End - Part 2~