Forbidden Feelings

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me but this particular story.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I am somewhat surprised at the response to this little story that started out as a one shot. Thanks again. Hats off to my beta Sevfank.


Forbidden Feelings


Chapter Three

“Harry, do we have a quiz in DADA today?” Ron asked as he shoved a forkful of food into his mouth.

“Nope,” the other boy answered through gulps of pumpkin juice.

“What about extra homework in Transfigurations?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Harry answered absently, obviously more intent upon his food than the conversation they were having.

“And what about Potions?”

“Ummm…”

“Did we have an extra long essay due today?’

“Again, no,” Harry answered, at last turning his attention to his red headed friend.

“Then please explain to me, if you would,” Ron continued, “why Hermione has been in such a good mood lately!”

They both turned their attention to the subject of their conversation. Hermione looked only slightly annoyed as she glared at them both.

“Honestly, Ronald,” she replied. “If you want to know something then maybe you should just ask.”

“Right,” he considered this a moment. “Hermione, what have you been so cheerful about?”

“I think you both could do with a little more cheer in your life, Ron,” was her only response.

“Oh bloody hell! What kind of answer is that?” he asked. “Now do you see why I didn’t just ask you?”

“He’s got a point, Hermione,” Harry told her rationally. “You have been uncommonly cheerful this last week. What’s up?”

“To tell you the truth, Harry,” she replied ignoring Ron altogether. “I’m not really sure. I just feel happy. Complete. Satiated,” she finished in explanation.

Ron rolled his eyes at her choice of words, some of which he didn’t know the meaning of. “Like you just got shagged, you mean?”

“That was crude, Ron.”

“But like that…”

“I guess…something like that.” She desperately wanted to change the subject. Anything to get the focus off of her.

“So have you finished with the Transfiguration homework, yet?”

Ron smirked at her change of subject and Harry stifled a chuckle.

Everyone did seem to be in a good mood lately.

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“I will see you all next class,” Professor Lupin stated as the students packed up their supplies. “Please note the homework listed on the board.”

“Harry,” he directed his next question to the young man passing by his desk. “Could you and Ron help me with something?”

“Sorry Professor,” he said regretfully. “Ron and I have Quidditch practice.”

“I could help you Professor.”

Remus looked over at his star pupil. He had tried his best to stay away from her for the last week. Although the memory charm he had placed on her was strong, it was not foolproof. She was too quick for her own good and it was harder than ever to keep his feelings hidden from her. How could he get out of accepting her help though without hurting her feelings or raising her suspicions?

“Thank you, Hermione,” he replied, thinking quickly. “Perhaps Neville could assist me as well?”

“Sure, Professor,” Neville stated, although he sounded anything but sure.

After everyone had left the classroom, Professor Lupin led them down to a seldom used storeroom.

“In here there are boxes of things left by previous DADA professors.” He smiled wryly at them. “Probably should have been thrown out years ago, but then again you never know what will be useful one day.”

“The particular item I am looking for,” he continued, moving boxes out of their path, “is an amulet. Gather any amulets that you can find and I will go through them later.”

“Surely, Professor,” Hermione began. “It would be helpful for us to have a more complete description of the object.”

There was no way he was giving her that information. She was entirely too clever. Hell, it might not even be here. And the less information she had the better.

He shook his head at her. “That won’t be necessary, Hermione,” he said quickly. “I need to get to my next class. Thank you both for your help.”

Hermione watched her professor hastily leave the small room.

Something was wrong.

The room was musty and dank as if it hadn’t been used in years. The smell triggered something in her memory. Hermione felt as if she had forgotten something important. But what could it be? She had flashes of something that seemed just out of reach.

As she went about her task, there were actual moments when she felt she was reliving her memory. Although she couldn’t see anything, the sensations-smell, sound, taste were so strong…she felt as if she were there…but then it was gone, too quickly to identify. She moved this way and that…trying to capture it once more. It was so important! She was sure of it!

The memory stirred up something else as well. As Hermione sniffed disdainfully at the dusty air, she realized she felt aroused. It was a strange, alarming sensation and Hermione desperately tried to explain it to herself. Was it the scent of Professor Lupin still lingering in the air? But when she tried once again all she could smell was the musty aroma of the enclosed room.

Her feelings should have dissipated at that point but instead they grew stronger. Hermione knew she wasn’t attracted to Neville so what was causing these unusual stirrings?

“Hermione?” Neville asked quietly. “Are you all right?” She knew her behavior must have seemed strange to him.

“Fine, Neville,” she stated. “Let’s just get this finished, shall we?”

If she thought that work would take her mind off the disquieting sensations she was feeling she was sadly mistaken. She found herself becoming more and more aroused as they worked; the dusty smell increasing instead of decreasing her reaction. It was almost as if it reminded her of a similar situation. One in which she was intensely aroused, she mused. If only she could remember. But no such memory surfaced. The more she tried to remember the more she felt the memory shatter into many different pieces, each one lost to her.

Hermione hurried to complete their task. The sooner she got out of that room the better. She even thought there might be a spell on the room but Neville seemed unaffected.

As Hermione opened one of the last boxes, the lid brushed against her breast. She could not contain the moan that escaped her lips and she looked over at Neville, shocked at her own behavior.

He stared at her in surprise. Silently they rushed through the rest of the stuff. They had found five amulets in all. Usually Hermione might have been curious of the artifacts, but at this point, she just wanted to go to her room and get some relief. All other thoughts were driven from her head as they exited the room. Neville volunteered to take their find to Professor Lupin and for once Hermione was glad. She definitely did not need to see her professor in the shape she was in. Not given the fantasies, she was ashamed to admit, that she had about him.

Unfortunately, Hermione did not have the chance to relieve the tension that she was feeling. Professor McGonagall had wanted to talk to her about some of her classes and then she joined the boys for lunch. It would have been suspicious if she had sneaked away. However, she had to admit was feeling slightly better and decided that surely she would be all right to go to Potions class.

Hermione hurried to class with her friends rushing to keep up with her. She was irritated with them and had to ignore too many questions about where her good mood had suddenly gone.

She was even thankful, although only for a second, that Snape had paired them off in class and she was stuck with Draco Malfoy instead of her inquisitive friends.

Of course, she hated Malfoy and it didn’t take long for her to regret that wish. He sneered at her and made snide comments, and although this was nothing new, her reaction to him was unusual. At one point, she had to add an ingredient to the potion and had gotten close to him. Something about his hair, he had let it grow long over the last year, tugged at her memory. That and a faint scent of something else; she was not quite sure what. However, the effect was similar to what had happened in the storeroom.

It couldn’t be! She definitely was not interested in Draco Malfoy. Not in the slightest. She had never, ever been attracted to him.

So now, why was she longing to touch his hair? To kiss his lips? To take his hand and place it…

No! What had gotten into her? Something was definitely wrong!

Hermione tried to focus instead on the potion they were working on. She had almost added the wrong ingredient and stopped herself just in time.

“What is your problem, Granger?” Draco sneered at her. “Let me do it if you are just going to mess it up!”

Normally she would have fought with him about it but now she just let it be. He was probably right; she would just mess it up in her current state. Her only goal at this point was to make it though the period without begging Draco to take her there right in the middle of potions class!

When the class was finally over Hermione rushed from the room, she was thankful to have made it through without any further embarrassment. As she hurried through the hallway, she did not watch where she was going and ran headlong into someone.

Her senses were immediately assaulted by a scent so familiar, so intoxicating, so arousing that she felt herself become weak. Strong arms kept her from falling and she looked up into the amused face of Lucius Malfoy.

Nothing made sense to her anymore. It was if she were missing important pieces to a puzzle that everyone else seemed to have.

“Mr. Malfoy,” she said breathlessly. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what has come over me. I feel faint.”

Hermione did feel light headed and she wondered what would happen if she just passed out.

“It is quite alright, my dear,” he stated in a sultry voice. “Let me take you somewhere quiet, so that you can recover.”

Instead of taking her to Madam Pomfrey’s, like she might have expected if she had been in her right mind, he took her to a deserted classroom.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” he asked, as he continued to hold her up.

Suddenly, it was too much for Hermione. The desire that came over her was stronger than anything she could ever remember feeling before. And it seemed so familiar. Perhaps that more than anything else prompted her to do what she did next.

“Oh, God, yes, Mr. Malfoy!” she breathed as she pulled him toward her. Her hand threaded through his hair as she hungrily kissed him.

He hesitated for a second, although only for a second. She felt it and it fueled her determination even more.

“Lucius, please,” she begged and taking his hand she pushed it underneath the edge of her uniform skirt. She guided it to where she wanted, moaning as his fingers brushed against her center. He was no longer hesitating as slid his hand under her knickers to explore her depths. His other hand moved down her back to caress her bottom.

Neither had noticed the other man who had silently entered the room and now watched; the look on his face was a mixture of suppressed anger and need.