Love is Strong

Chapter 3 – Do you feel the same?

From last time: - "Can we just be friends? I need time to think," asked Harry.

Hermione smiled, sniffed, and nodded.

Two months later, Harry still hadn’t decided. More boys were making passes at Hermione, and she ignored every one, even Draco Malfoy, who was undoubtedly on the top ten guys list. She was just waiting for Harry. Hermione was growing weak from malnutrition, thinner and paler. She hadn’t eaten or slept well since she had confessed to Harry of her love. She was breaking.

On the way back from an awful Potions lesson on Polyjuice Potion, which Harry knew all about already, and Snape had given him grief about, Harry had the feeling he was being followed. He turned round, and no one was there. "Hello? Argh!" Someone grabbed him from the back, spun him round and pinned him to the wall. (guess who...)"Hermione! Get off! I’ve still got to think!"

"I’ve had enough of your deciding Harry James Potter! I love you! I’m gonna make you decision for you!"

The next thing Harry knew, he was enveloped in her arms and her lips were on his, breathing his name, kissing him, and he was kissing her back and she was undoing his shirt and robes and oh, god this is wrong and he pushed her off him, backing far up against the wall and saying; "Herm, give me time, please give me time."

"If that’s you answer, I’ll take it as ‘yes’ then. I want you now, right now."

Harry grabbed her wrists to avoid the embrace she attempted. "No, Herm, please." She kissed him on the nose. "No!" He spun round, letting go of her wrists, to run, but she rugby-tackled him from behind, and sat on his back, caressing his hair. "Oooh, look your glasses are broken! Reparo! There, all better. I’ve always loved your hair’ she whispered by his ear in a singsong voice, sending chills down his spine, and little hairs on his neck to stand up.

"Get off!" The floor muffled Harry’s voice.

"Only if I get a ‘yes, I love you Hermione’."

"WHAT?"

"Or a kiss..."

"No!"

"Fine, stay here, it’s a great view from where I’m sitting."

"I’ll settle with the kiss."

As she rose to let him up, he scrambled up, snatched his glasses and ran. Echoes followed him of; "No, Harry please!" matched by his pounding footsteps.

"Where’ve you been?" inquired Ron, as Harry came crashing into the empty common room, panting. "I need a word."

"Sorry, Ron. I’ve just had Hermione trying to passionately snog me, while undoing my trousers, but yeah, feel free to talk."

He turned to Ron. "Sorry, I’ve just had the worst day in history. Hermione, Snape, Hermione, Quidditch practise, Hermione. It’s stressing me out!"

"Well...this might make it worse...erm...Harry...I’m in love with...you."

"What, so now I’ve got TWO people who fancy me, one who’s gay, and one who can’t keep her lips to herself?!?!?"

"Actually, I’m bi, I liked Herm, remember? My parents were seriously worried. They thought I’d end up like Percy."

"Percy? He’s gay?"

"Yeah, well...he’s going out with someone at his office."

"Really, I never knew, and didn’t want to know. Thanks."

"No problem. Anytime. Now about this..."

"No, Ron. I don’t love you. Can we forget this ever happened, please? I just want to get back to a normal life, without Hermione trying to snog my lips off everytime I pass, and without you feeling like that."

"It’s ok. It’s just a crushy thing; I’ll get over it. I always have with Lavender...and Parvati...and Seamus...and..."

"Let me guess, the whole of Gryffindor?"

"Just about, yeah."

"Oh, God."

"Is that another Muggle phrase? Can I use it?"

Walking to their table, and sitting down, they noticed that once again Hermione was absent from the table.

"You don’t think she’s gone to do another stunt, do you, ‘cause I turned her down again?" worried Harry.

"Well, Cho’s over there, so she’s alright. Oh no, is that...?" he said pointing at the Slytherin table.

"Hermione!" they both gasped.

To Ron and Harry’s disbelief, they saw Hermione, on Draco Malfoy’s knee having a full out snog.

"What the hell?!?!" Ron exploded.

As they watched, Hermione pulled away to give them a wave, and Malfoy was looking very dazed, but delighted.

"Don’t look, she’s trying to make us jealous," warned Harry.

"Well, she’s doing so, Malfoy’s number one on the girls’ top ten guys list. He replaced Diggory. They’ve all got pictures of him in leather trousers."

"Please, don’t tell me you like Malfoy...Eewwwww!"

"No, but you’re number two. Ginny told me."

"Great, I could sing!"

"Well, don’t. You’ll wake the dead! Ow!"

"Good morning class," said Professor Lupin. "Today we are learning about the necromancer. Firstly, the history and description of them. Necromancers have been around for as long or maybe before wizards. They can be bad or good. Their talents are spells way beyond normal teaching levels, and they are associated with the dead. Bad necromancers have been known to raise armies of zombies and vampires. Their singing can be deadly. (Ron sniggered, and passed Harry a note, saying ‘that’s you!’ Harry kicked him.) They can make ghosts solid, by making themselves ghosts. They can also revive recent victims of the Killing Curse ‘Avada Kedavra’. Good necromancers help fight evil, and help to stop the number of Auror and innocent peoples’ deaths by reviving them. Now: the description. They can learn any spell, brew any potion, know most of the historical past and are very beautiful. There can only be one necromancer at a time. The last one was two hundred years ago, by the name of Elizabeth Crozier. We do not know her married name, but we know that it is someone in this school, in this year, who is her descendant. Necromancy is hereditary, or can just appear. When a necromancer is sixty, they lose their powers and return to normal wizards. The powers only start to show when you are fifteen and after, in a time of need. Now, please copy down notes from page twenty-two."

"Ow!" Ron yelped. "Oh, sorry I got a splinter, Professor," seeing the whole class staring at him. Then whispering to Harry; "Look," he unfurled a sheet of parchment. He read; Dear Potty and Weasel, have you got partners for the Yule Ball? I have. "The slime-ball." You’ll have to go together otherwise. Ha ha! D. Malfoy.

"I’m not going with you!" exclaimed Harry. "What ball?"

"The one Dumbledore announced this morning, hello, were you listening?"

"No. Do we need partners?"

"Na. We just turn up."

Hermione was still deteriorating rapidly over the two weeks, paler, thinner, and weaker. She seemed happy with Malfoy, reasoned Harry, but it could be an act. Yeah, but if you don’t like her, why did you enjoy the kiss? nagged a voice in his head.

So far the ball was running well apart from Fred and George spiking the fruit punch, so that Professor McGonagall attempted the tango with a chair, whom she reckoned was Professor Snape. (A/N Awful thought, or what!)

Harry had danced with Ginny, and Lavender and a pretty girl called Eloise Midgen (A/N. Remember her? The one who cursed her nose, instead of her acne?), and Ginny again. Boys were constantly asking the girls to dance, so Harry hardly got a dance.

Harry decided he was tired at set off for the Gryffindor common room, passing a rose bush, which contained Ron and Eloise Midgen snogging. (A/N. And he said he hated her...) Ah, he did get over the crush on me then.

He was passing another rose garden, when a movement caught his eye. Hermione and Malfoy. He sat down in the dark to watch.

"I’m only doing this to get Harry not for you, Draco!" Since when were they on name terms? thought Harry.

"Yeah, but," sneered Malfoy. "We both want to annoy Potter and make him jealous, but what’s even better is...I get to snog you!" And he moved in for the kill.

"Piss off!" screeched Hermione, and proceeded to do the unlady-like thing. She kicked him where it hurt.

"You only do that when Harry’s around, right?" Malfoy, who was hopping around swearing, was in too much of a state to answer. "Goodnight, Malfoy."

Following Hermione in the dark, in the direction of his dorm, Harry tripped over a prone figure.

"Hi, Harry, want some punch?" giggled a sleepy Neville.

"No thanks, off to my dorm. Bye."

He continued along the corridor, stopping every now and again, to see if Hermione had heard him and Neville. No, she hadn’t. So he continued, pausing again and again, until he came near some pipes. Someone was there, breathing hard.

"Hello? Ron? Look, this isn’t funny."

"Deligo!" (A/N. Hey I looked up ‘to bind’ in Latin and I got this, so soz if it’s wrong!)

Harry shot backwards, against the pipes; his hands suddenly bound to them, with a strong rope. He struggled, but the rope and the spell were too strong, and he ended up losing his glasses. "Hello?"

"Hello, Harry. I’ve been waiting," whispered a soft voice in the region of Harry’s ear.

Oh, bugger. "Hi, Herm. Look, this isn’t fair or funny. I know you hate Malfoy. Let me go. I’m tired. I need sleep."

"No, ‘cause now I’ve got you, you can’t run away. I want to prove a point. You’re not so brave, Harry Potter, when faced with girls. After all the scrapes with You-Know-Who, you’d think you’d have some courage. I’ve been thinking about the kiss, and I liked it."

"Yeah, well, I didn’t." Yes, you did. You kissed her back. Shut up! "Anyway, I can’t see a thing. My glasses are on the floor."

"They’ll stay there then." She placed her arms around his neck. "You’re powerless to stop me."

She enveloped his lips with her’s. Harry’s head exploded again, with fireworks, and his stomach turned over and over, him kissing her fiercely back. Hermione ran her tongue along his lower lip, arousing a shudder from deep within Harry’s soul. Hermione moved her arms down to encircle his waist. This time, Harry felt no guilt or wrong, but bliss. Leaning more into the kiss, he felt Hermione’s knees give way and they sank to the floor, Harry’s back digging into the pipes. Breaking off for air, Hermione straddled his chest, gasping, before once again leaning back for more. Finally, breaking off, she breathed, "Well, Harry James Potter, yes, or no?"

"Wasn’t it obvious? Yes, you idiot!"

"He he," giggled Hermione, and she planted a row of kisses along his neck. "Let’s go back to the ball, we’ve got half an hour."

"Ok. Erm, Hermione?" said Harry, as she rose to leave.

"Hmm?"

"I’m still tied to the pipes."

"Oops. Sorry. Finite Incantatum! And here’s your glasses."

"Thanks."

They re-entered the hall, as the music changed. Harry rested his hands on Hermione’s waist, and she rested her hands on his shoulders, and her head on his chest.