I Can't Fight This Feeling

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 6

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The first match of the season was scheduled for one week later, on a Saturday afternoon. It was Gryffindor v. Slytherin, and the whole school would be turning out to watch the game. Already they were gathering in the stands; chattering excitedly about the upcoming match, placing bets, holding signs for team favorites. There was, however, one person was missing.

Hermione sat on the window seat in the girls' dormitory, trying to decide whether to go or not. A week ago, the decision would have been obvious, but now she didn't know if she could face Ron. She'd been avoiding him all week, becoming almost as much of a loner as she had been before Harry and Ron saved her from the troll back in First Year. She'd even avoided Harry, knowing that wherever he was, Ron was sure to be close by. She walked to classes alone, sat as far away from Ron as possible, and even found herself sitting with Ginny and her group of friends a little way down the Gryffindor table from her usual spot.

She came to the conclusion that that might not have been such a brilliant idea the second day she joined them. All they seemed to want to talk about was who was going to the Yule Ball with who. Even Ginny, who normally seemed much more mature, chattered on about it endlessly, the girls discussing what they would wear, and how they would have their hair done. It was rather depressing, actually. A few weeks earlier, she had entertained hopes of going with Ron, but now that was out of the question.

Her actions didn't go unnoticed. The whole of Gryffindor was talking about it, as well as a generous portion of the other houses. Even Slytherin had their gossips. Rumor's abounded about the couple's "split", and while some of them came close to the truth, nobody except she and Ron knew the real story.

She often found herself reliving those moments, wishing she could go back and change everything from lunch onwards. Where was a stupid time-turner when you needed one? Maybe she could get her old one back from McGonagall...But the Transfiguration Professor would never allow it. Too bad though, it might have worked...

Then she wouldn't be forced to look at Ron's angry face every day. It was bad enough to have to endure the mental torture she inflicted on herself, constantly regretting her unthinking words and actions, but it was worse to be constantly reminded of it every time she saw him. He never just looked at her anymore; just glared. And then Hermione would have to come up with some excuse to leave the room very quickly or she feared she'd break down into tears in front of everyone.

And all the while, her mind kept repeating the same thing: If only, if only, if only, if on-

But it was no use. She couldn't go back in time and change what had happened; there was only the future.

A knock sounded on the door then, and Hermione's head jerked up at the sound. Who could that be? She thought everyone had left...

She opened the door a crack, peeking out. There were certain people she really didn't want to talk to right now. Lavender and Parvati for instance, who had been hounding her for "The Ron Story," as they called it, all week. But it was only Seamus.

"Hi," she said, pushing the door open farther. "What are you doing here?"

Seamus regarded her levelly. "I could ask you the same question."

Hermione bit her lip and glanced away, suddenly uncomfortable. "Look, I know I should be out there, but-"

"Damn right you should be. So what are you doing in here?" He stuck his head through the door, noting that there wasn't a book in sight. "Not studying I'll wager."

Hermione shrugged. "I can't do it, Seamus. It'll be the first time I've faced him in-"

"A week," he finished for her. "I know. That's what I came to talk to you about. Can I...?" he asked, gesturing toward a cluster of nearby chairs.

Hermione nodded and followed him over, taking a seat beside him.

Seamus hesitated a moment, then went on. "I know you two had some kind of row-" he faltered, unable to meet her eyes for a second. "but you can't spend the rest of your lives avoiding one another. Sooner or later you'll have to face him, and if I were you, I 'd go ahead and get it over with as soon as possible."

"You're not me." Hermione crossed her arms, ashamed of the sulking tone in her voice but unable to help it.

Seamus sighed, running a hand through his dark brown hair and causing it to stick up in places. "You're right," he said. "I'm not. But, Hermione, you can't just think of only yourself right now. The whole team, the whole house, is depending on you. You're not going to let us down are you?"

"Oh, so you're here speaking on behalf of the rest of Gryffindor are you?" Hermione found herself suddenly angry. He didn't really care about her feelings at all, he was just worried Gryffindor was going to lose the bloody game! "Well, the entire lot of you can just sod off! I'm not coming." She crossed her arms even tighter and sank back into the chair, determined to stay right there until the game was over. Who cared if Slytherin won because she didn't show up?

"Hermione-" Seamus began, but she cut him off.

"Just leave."

Seamus stood up slowly, his eyes still fastened on her face, even though she refused to look at him. "You know I'm not just here for the team, Hermione. I'm here for you too." In spite of herself, Hermione found her eyes being drawn to him, and when he knelt down in front of her she couldn't resist glancing at him.

It was her undoing. His eyes met and held hers as he continued. "You're tearing yourself up inside, and Ron's hurting too. He doesn't talk to me anymore-I have a pretty good idea why- but I can see it just the same, Hermione. He needs you as much as you need him. You have to talk to him."

Hermione found tears welling in her eyes, and she blinked hastily, trying to force them away. They fell anyway, and suddenly she found herself throwing her arms around Seamus and just sitting there, sobbing.

Seamus tensed, surprised at first, but then he relaxed, and put his arms around her awkwardly, making soothing noises and patting her back until she quieted.

Hermione pulled herself away from him after a moment, uncomfortably reminded of the time Ron had held her in almost the same way, letting her cry in his arms until she couldn't cry anymore. But that had been different than what she felt now. When Ron had held her, it had felt natural, and right. Just perfect. When Seamus held her, it felt right too, but in a different way. Seamus was a good friend, but that was all he would ever be.

"Sorry," she mumbled, swiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. "Got a little carried away I guess," she added with a small, shaky laugh and a half-hearted attempt at a smile.

Seamus grinned back, relieved that she had stopped crying and trying his best not to look it. "No problem. I was going to change robes before the game anyway."

This statement, so obviously a lie, had Hermione really smiling. "Liar."

Seamus tilted his head to one side, considering. "Yeah," he replied simply with a little nod of his head. "Suppose I am."

Hermione laughed again, and Seamus took the opportunity to pull both himself and her to their feet. "So what are you going to do?" he asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral.

"Are you joking?" Hermione smiled. "I've got a game to get to, haven't I?"

"You mean, if it hasn't already started without you?" Seamus teased. Horror flooded Hermione's eyes and he laughed jovially. "No, you've still got time, if you hurry."

She nodded in relief, her mind already racing. Where was her broomstick? And she had to change into her Quidditch robes...

"I'll leave you to it, then," Seamus said, catching the look in her eye. He started towards the door, but stopped when she called him back. "Yes?"

"I...I.." Hermione couldn't think of any words to really thank him enough, so she leaned up and gave him a quick peck on the cheek instead, and settled for a simple, "thank you".

Seamus flushed, and started to reply, but a cold voice interrupted them.

"Getting a quick good luck kiss in there are you, Hermione?" Ron's voice had never seemed so ominous, and his face wore a similarly angry expression.

"I-I-" Hermione stammered, her heart leaping into her throat and finding herself unable to form a single coherent sentence through the swirling cloud of thoughts and emotions that were racing through her mind.

"I think I'll go now," Seamus said uncomfortably, quickly retreating towards the door and squeezing around Ron, who refused to move and was glaring at his housemate like he'd just committed a deadly sin. The sound of his footsteps could be heard as he went quickly down the stairs, growing fainter and fainter until the finally disappeared completely.

And then they were alone.

Hermione tried to keep herself from trembling, but all the emotions she'd been bottling up for the past week came bubbling to the surface, and she felt that if it would do her any good, she'd throw herself into Ron's arms right then and start babbling apologies.

But one look at his face was enough to show her that it wouldn't. "What are you still doing up here?" he asked, his voice hard and distant. "Besides the obvious, I mean."

Hermione took a deep breath to calm her shaking and collect her thoughts. She'd made too many mistakes before with her rash words, and she couldn't allow that to happen again. If she wanted to make amends with Ron- if that was even possible anymore after what he thought he had just seen- then she was going to have to phrase her words carefully. "I was about to get ready."

"With Seamus in here?"

"Of course not!" she protested angrily, the words spewing from her lips like venom. "That has to be one of the stupidest things-" She stopped abruptly then, realizing what she was doing. "I mean," she tried again carefully, "No, Ron, I was about to get ready right after Seamus left." She gazed at him coolly, waiting to see what he would do.

"So you're coming to the game?" He seemed surprised.

"Yes, Ron, I'm coming." She waited, but he didn't say anything else. Just looked at her, his head tilted slightly to one side, as if he didn't quite know what to make of her. She gave him a small smile, and for a brief moment, she could have sworn she saw something akin to hope in his eyes, but then it was gone, and the hard, stony expression was back.

Good," he said. "Now I don't have to drag you down there. But you'd better hurry," he added as he walked out the door, "because if you aren't on the field in exactly five minutes, I will come back and make you come." The door shut behind him with a clang, emphasizing his words. He was not exaggerating.

Hermione had never changed as quickly in her life as she did then, even risking detention to get to the field faster by flying out the window instead of going through the castle. She made sure to land far enough away so that most people didn't notice her arrival, however.

Pushing her way through the still-gathering crowd of students, all vying for the best seats, she reached the spot where the rest of her teammates were gathered. A collective sigh of relief came from them all at her appearance.

"'Bout time, Granger," Ashley Simmons, a fourth year, muttered loudly.

Hermione offered an apologetic shrug. "Sorry I'm late." She didn't look at Ron.

Harry moved close to her, his face betraying his uneasiness. "You all right?" he asked in a soft voice so that no one else could overhear them. It was the same question he's been wanting to ask her all week, but hadn't quite dared. She'd seemed too upset, too...well, emotionally unstable for any such conversation. But now, when Harry looked at her, she seemed quieter somehow, more resigned to her fate or something. It shook him almost as badly as when he first heard-or rather saw, because neither of them ever told him exactly what had happened- the results of their fight in the corridor.

"I'm fine." Hermione smiled slightly, but it was a smile without life, without energy, and it was far from reassuring.

What else could he say though? He settled for saying nothing, simply laying a hand on her shoulder and squeezing lightly before walking away.

Hermione watched in a vague sort of way as he placed himself in front of all of them, but forced herself to pay attention when he started speaking. She was part of the team now, after all, and was supposed to listen to the little pre-game speeches Harry gave them. But she did wish he'd hurry up. The sooner he finished, the sooner the game could start, and then the sooner it would be over.

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Ron listened to Harry with barely concealed impatience, wishing his friend would shut up, but knowing that Harry had a duty as captain of the team to fulfill. Fortunately, Harry wrapped things up fairly quickly, and the game got underway.

The first half-hour was more or less as games normally did. A few points scored on both sides, but neither on gaining a distinct advantage. When he wasn't busy guarding the goals as Keeper, Ron found his eyes being drawn towards the bushy haired, dark-eyed Chaser. No matter how much he wanted to be mad at her, he couldn't help but watch her whenever he got the chance. She was playing remarkably well, for someone who couldn't even properly ride a broomstick a month ago, a Ron felt a surge of pride as he watched her. He'd done a pretty good job with her, hadn't he?

At least in that area. The other, more personal matters between them hadn't turned out so well. He couldn't understand it. He finally had the girl he'd wanted since fourth year, one of his best friends no less, and suddenly all they did was fight. Well, okay, maybe it wasn't completely sudden. They'd fought plenty of times in the past, but most of them had been more or less arguments. Not out-and-out-won't-even-talk-to-one-another fights.

He knew part of it was his fault, he admitted that willingly, at least to himself. But he couldn't help it if he had caught her and Seamus in the hall. She was his girlfriend, what was he supposed to do? Shrug it off and say that it was no big deal? But it was. It was a big deal to him. When he'd saw Seamus touch her arm in the hall, and then wink at her like that, he'd seen red. He'd been so jealous he couldn't even think straight. How dare he touch her? The boy was lucky Ron hadn't went after him then and there. Instead, he had taken his anger out on Hermione. And why shouldn't he have?

Then this morning-

Ron's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the screaming of the crowd and the yelling of his teamates. A Slytherin Chaser was headed straight for the middle ring, and Ron was no where near close enough to block the goal. He jerked his broom around and sped into position, but it was too late; the Quaffle flew through the hoop and Slytherin gained a ten point lead.

Damn it, Ron cursed himself. Pay attention, Weasley. You've got plenty of time to think about the girl after we've won this game. Ron turned his concentration back to the game with a vengeance.

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The action was getting intense now. The two bludgers seemed to be everywhere at once, and Hermione would have sworn they seemed to be coming at her more often then anyone else. Was the Slytherin team trying to take advantage of her inexperience? With Draco Malfoy as their Captain, and a new Beater. she wouldn't put it past them.

Where'd that sneaky prat get to anyway? she wondered absently as she maneuvered into position beside a Slytherin Chaser. She came up behind him and just a bit to his left, where he couldn't quite see her without turning around completely. Then, as he started to throw the ball, she put on a burst of speed and knocked it from his grasp in that one brief instant when his grip was the most precarious. Diving down after it, she caught the Quaffle in her arms and raced back towards the Gryffindor goal posts.

She urged her broom faster, ducking and dodging Slytherin Chasers and a bludger. Her movements were still a bit jerky, but she was getting there. The goal posts drew closer, and she thought furiously, trying to judge which way to go would give her the best chance of scoring. She chose the center hoop. The Slytherin Keeper was positioned directly in front of it, so he wouldn't be expecting that.

Carefully, she turned her broom like she was positioning herself to take a shot at the left hoop, waited until the Slytherin moved to block her, then jerked the broom around and down, diving under him and straight back up to toss the ball through the hoop.

The resulting cheers from her teammates and Gryffindor fans alike rang in her ears, and she smiled broadly. From the corner of her eye, she saw Malfoy glaring at her, his eyes narrowed. She turned to face him, her smile turning into a pleased smirk. The expression turned even more smug as she heard the announcement that the game was over. Harry had caught the snitch. And Gryffindor had won.

She veered away from the Slytherin Captain, taking secret pleasure in his barely contained fury. I showed him! He thought I'd be horrible, but I bloody well wasn't!

She searched the faces of her teammates gathered a little way down the field, and looked unconsciously for the shock of red hair she knew must be there somewhere. And then she found him, and he was looking at her too. There eyes met, and it was the strangest thing, because even as she smiled at him, she saw his eyes go wide and an expression of horror cover his face. Weir-

The bludger came out of nowhere. Hermione never even saw it. All she knew was that one moment she was flying down to join her teamates, the next an extraordinary pain had exploded in her left side, spreading like wildfire through the rest of her body. The breath was gone from her lungs, and she couldn't seem to be able to get it back. The rest of her felt funny too, and with an odd kind of detachment, she realized that her hands were slipping off the handles, and she was starting to tilt way too far to the right. Her mind was fuzzy, and though she knew she should try to straighten up, to hold tighter to the broom, her body had stopped obeying her commands.

I can't even hold my hands right, she thought, giving a silent, choking, hysterical laugh. In the back of her mind, the part that was still functioning correctly through the haze of pain, she knew it wasn't really funny, and terrified tears poured from her eyes as she toppled from her broom, helpless to stop it.

And then there was a rushing of air in her ears and her mind went blank. Darkness claimed her.

And even as I wonder, I'm keeping you in sight

You're a candle in the wind, on a cold, dark, winter's night

And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might

Ron watched Hermione steal the Quaffle right out from under the filthy Slytherin's nose and go speeding back towards the Gryffindor goals. Go Hermione, go! he urged silently, willing the girl to score. That would put them even with Slytherin again; sixty to sixty.

When she dodged the Slytherin Keeper in a brilliant move Ron had no idea she was capable of and sent the red ball spinning through the center hoop, Ron shouted in delight. Yes! Now the game was tied...

"Gryffindor wins!" came the excited cry from the announcer. "Harry Potter has caught the snitch!"

Okay, so the game was over. He grinned in happy relief and headed across the field to meet his cheering teammates. He was almost there when a thought struck him: Where was Hermione? He searched the ecstatic faces that were already gathered, but couldn't find her anywhere. She must still be in the air.

He turned to look, just in time to see Draco Malfoy glaring furiously at someone. Then the Slytherin boy raised his club and hit a hovering bludger so hard Ron thought he was going to fall off his own broom in the effort. Ron's stomach fluttered, and he suddenly got a sickening feeling in his gut...

Ron followed the other boy's line of vision, wanting to see what the object of his rage was but almost not daring to look. His suspicions were correct.

Ron met Hermione's eyes, horror dawning in his features. He watched as if in slow motion as the bludger struck her in the side, watched as her smile faded abruptly and a look of intense pain and confusion replaced it. And he watched her start to fall...

The crowd had gone deadly silent, and all eyes were on the lifeless figure that was falling through the air, the ground rushing up to meet her...And then she was flying, flying through the air in the arms of a boy with brilliant red hair, a boy who could very well have come out of thin air for all that they saw of his approach.

But he hadn't come out of thin air, he'd darted into action the moment Hermione had begun falling, swooping underneath her with a speed and a purpose that not even Harry displayed when reaching for the snitch.

And then he had caught her, just seconds before she would have hit the ground with a sickening crunch. Later, he would wonder where all the Professors had been, and why they hadn't done anything. And later, too, he remember that a staff meeting had been called, so there were fewer Professors present than usual, and that the ones that had been there had been in no position to do anything with a crowd of teeming students around them.

But for now, there was only the wide-open sky around him and Hermione. The feel of her limp body in his arms was alarming, to say the least, and Ron was so scared he thought he'd drop her himself if he didn't get his hands to stop shaking. He forced himself to tear his gaze away from the awful sight of her closed eyes and still face. He had to get her to the Hospital Wing, or at the very least back to the ground.

He landed as close to the castle as he could, with Harry coming up right behind him. Both dropped their brooms on the ground and rushed inside.

Madame Pomfrey was waiting for them in the Hospital Wing. How she had learned what had happened so quickly Ron never knew, but she was there and ready to help, and that was all that mattered.

After making sure Hermione was settled in a bed, and that Madame Pomfrey was taking care of her, Ron headed back out the door, his pace quick, but purposeful.

Harry glanced around after him, surprised. "Where are you going? Aren't you going to stay with her?"

Ron didn't look back, his eyes narrowed in anger and focused on something Harry couldn't see. "I'll be back later. I've got something to take care of."

Harry's eyebrows rose in confusion, and he felt a trill of alarm rush through him. Ron wouldn't leave Hermione right now unless it was very, very important. "What?"

Ron's answer was short and to the point, and said in such a tone that Harry felt his insides grow cold.

"Malfoy."

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A/N: Well, hopefully I've left you with another cliff hanger; I intended to! *grins evilly* So, what happens next? You'll just have to wait and find out. The next chapter will be out Wednesday. Thanks to all my wonderful, fantastic, amazing, brilliant-I could go on and on- reviewers. Reading your comments really makes my day!

kneh13 (yes, that's exactly what he thought! Don't you love the way people just jump to conclusions-often incorrect ones-sometimes?);cat-chan (I just love reading your reviews, they always make me laugh! Thanks for the vote of confidence too, I hope you won't be disappointed. And the song's great, isn't it?); ThinkingOfaName (Thank you, that is the best complement you can give a fanfiction writer, honestly.); Line- from Denmark (Glad I've still got your interest, lol); hp/charmed obsesed (It's quite simple really, I just upload the story in HTML format.)