A Quest for Love: Chapter 3

I had always known that the name of my cat had to have some meaning behind it. Oh, of course I had heard of the little fluffy angel boy who shoots arrows poisoned with Love Potion. That's not what I meant. There had to have been a reason that my cat, of all the cats in the world, had to be named Cupid. So when I hit upon this particular plan, I decided that it had to be fate.

I suppose that none of this makes sense to you. Be patient; it will in the due course of time.

It was hard to decide where I would stage my little drama. Class wasn't the best idea; that would mean that I would have had to do everything under the watchful eyes of the teachers. On the other hand, where else could I expect to see a Gryffindor? And I was sure that Neville would do all that was in his power to avoid me.

Finally, I decided that the only way to do it would be to kidnap Neville sometime after school. It wasn't as criminal as it sounds. I wasn't planning on keeping him for ransom or anything like that. I just wanted sufficient time to make him fall in love with me, by natural or artificial means. By the time I was done with him, he shouldn't want to leave.

So one day after Transfiguration class, I grabbed Neville's elbow just as he was trying to hurry past me unnoticed. He tried to pull away, but submitted when I seized a chunk of his hair. Luckily, it was last period. I guided him down the halls to one of the doors that led outside. I carried my cat along, too; ever since the day when Cupid had been turned into a pickle, McGonagall had been very lax about allowing pets in class. She pretended that she didn't notice he was there, even when he was preening on a desk under her very nose.

It was a beautiful day; although the sun was glaring brightly, the air was crisp and rather cool. I dragged a resistant Neville to a shady tree. It was a weeping willow, and there were several large rocks under its canopy that were conveniently positioned for sitting.

The night before, I had done a tricky little spell on my dear cat. I had transformed him into a real, live cupid. Not that he was suddenly chubby with feathers. But whenever he licked a person, they fell madly in love with the first person that they saw. It turned out to be rather hard to keep Cupid from licking people. He had already licked Pansy Parkinson, who was infatuated with Gregory Goyle. He had licked Draco Malfoy, who had fallen in love with Hermione Granger. The cat had even licked Professor Snape, and the last time I had seen him, he was serenading Professor Trelawney. But as I said, a Slytherin doesn't let anything get in the way of their ambitions, even mass chaos.

The scene was set. Neville was sitting across from me, nursing his sore head. The cat was purring peacefully in my lap. All I had to do was wait for it to lick him.

Unfortunately, even the best plans can go wrong.

The stupid cat was supposed to lick Neville. But cats are very contrary creatures. Poor Cupid had been in a foul mood ever since he had spent a day as a pickle. I suppose I can't blame him.

So instead of licking Neville, the stupid cat licked me.

I can't explain to you exactly how it felt to be passionately in love with Neville Longbottom. I looked at his round, chubby face with its innocent brown eyes, and I suddenly felt that it was the most beautiful thing in the whole world, although a minute ago it had seemed a bit funny. I wanted to smother him in kisses. I have always done whatever I wanted to, so sooner or later I would. But something had to be said first.

I reached across and took Neville's hand. He looked startled, and tried to jerk it away again. But I managed to grab hold of it. He squirmed, but stopped trying to resist.

"Neville," I said, looking deep into his eyes, "I love you, you know." It was clear to me that I had loved him all along; how I could have ever thought him anything less than perfect was a mystery to me.

Thinking back on it, I must have looked ridiculous from Neville's point of view. This is a girl that has never done anything nice to him, a girl that has continually hurt him. And all of a sudden, her eyes glaze over, and she declares her undying love to him. If he was really observant, he might have noticed that at that moment, the black cat in her arms had given her a vigorous swipe with his tongue. But even if he did see it, I doubt that he would have attached any importance to the incident.

Neville started to stand up, but he had forgotten that I still had a grasp on his hand. I pulled him down so that he was sitting next to me on the rock. I put my arm around him and cuddled him. He was cute and squishy, just like a teddy bear! The ideal boyfriend. My heart was overflowing with love for him. I started to kiss his plump, soft cheeks. Neville groaned, and dropped his face into his hands. Sensing his reluctance, I stopped for a minute.

"Neville, do you love me too?" I asked him.

He looked up, frightened. "Yes?" he replied unconvincingly.

"Are you sure?"

His head went back into his hands. "No," he whispered.

I scooted closer to him, so that I was almost in his lap. "Why did you say yes, then?" I queried.

Suddenly, he stood up. "Maybe because I'm afraid of being attacked by a lovesick, violent lunatic!" he shrieked.

I stood up and attempted to embrace him. He stepped away, holding his free hand out in front of him. I stood rooted to the ground in shock. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be! He was supposed to love me, to kiss me, to caress me. And instead he thought that I was going to hurt him!

"Neville, my sweet, you know I would never hurt you. You are far too precious to me."

"Well in that case, how about letting me go!" With a sudden spurt of energy, he wrenched his hand from my grip, and ran back to the castle.

I remained under the sheltering leaves of the willow. Now that Neville had left, I could think clearly. How had my plan gone so drastically wrong?

I should have put that stupid cat under the Imperious Curse. That would have solved all of my problems. Neville would have been smitten with me, instead of the other way around. But it was too late now. At this point, the only thing that I could have possibly done was avoid Neville for the rest of the day. I thanked God that the spell wore off within 24 hours. Tomorrow, I could work on thinking up a new strategy.



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