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Author: Delylah Story: Love Fool Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: Completed Reviews: 19 Words: 26,482
Wednesday Evening Jasmine tea, freshly brewed, as a base, 250 ml Ashwinder eggs, freeze dried, 3 Rose hips, 10 Dried orange blossoms, crushed, 35 milligrams Powdered moonstone, 20 milligrams Snozzberries, dried, 17 Five strands of human hair (student will use his or her own)
Ugh, Harry thought. Why do these things always seem to require human hair? It was Wednesday evening, and Harry was in the middle of brewing the Imitor Ardoris. He had begun with the jasmine tea. When it had steeped for five minutes, he removed the tealeaves and returned his cauldron to the fire. Then he began adding the ingredients in order of listing, beginning with the Ashwinder eggs. He was glad he had remembered to stop by Professor Snape's office and ask for them this morning; they were the one required ingredient he didn't carry in his Potions case. Well, other than his hair, of course, but that was obtained easily enough. The eggs dissolved immediately into the tea. The rose hips had to steep for another five minutes, then he removed them and added the orange blossoms, the powdered moonstone, and the dried snozzberries. The cauldron began to give off a pleasant, fruity odor. Harry stirred gently as the potion simmered for 10 minutes. Then he added the five strands of hair he had plucked from his head earlier. They dissolved into the liquid with a slight fizzing noise, upon which the potion developed a deep, golden color. Harry extinguished the flame under his cauldron and continued to stir as the potion cooled; otherwise it would separate and be useless. He noticed the liquid continued to fizz, not unlike Butterbeer. He checked the consistency and appearance against the description in his textbook; to his delight, they matched perfectly. When the potion had finally cooled, Harry looked around for his stoppered vial in order to dip out a sample for Professor Snape. It was nowhere to be found. No, I couldn't possibly have forgotten... Harry dumped the entire contents of his rucksack onto his station. He found a roll of blank parchment, several quills, his Charms text (which had Ron's Divination assignment tucked into it) and a few other odds and ends, including an empty Butterbeer bottle that Harry had polished off on the way to the dungeons. He did not find a stoppered vial. "Dammit!" Harry shouted to the empty room. He was required to deliver a sample of the potion to Professor Snape in order to pass the exam. Harry couldn't carry the potion through the corridors in an open cauldron; it was against school regulations. Snape would fail him on sight. Furthermore, Harry knew without asking that Snape would refuse to follow him back to the dungeons in order to mark his potion there. He would remind Harry that he had been responsible for gathering his supplies before the exam began and again, would take great delight in giving Harry a zero. Harry paced, wondering if he could summon a vial from his dormitory from all the way in the dungeons. When he took stock of the number of doors the vial would have to pass through, he thought it unlikely. Then his gaze focused on the empty Butterbeer bottle. Why not? he asked himself. I can at least try - the worst he can do is fail me, which will happen anyway unless I get this potion to him. Harry carried the glass bottle to the sinks at the back of the room, where he carefully rinsed out the dregs of the Butterbeer. Then he used a drying charm to remove the last droplets of water, and for good measure, he added a sanitizing charm as well. He didn't want to contaminate his potion. When he was satisfied that the bottle would do, he poured the contents of his cauldron into it and tamped the cap down. Tiny bubbles floated to the top every now and then. It looked almost exactly like butterbeer. Bet it doesn't taste anything like it, Harry thought, shuddering. He set the bottle on the countertop of his workstation and then busied himself tidying up, disposing of unused ingredients and scouring his implements. He had just replaced the last item in his potions kit when a knock sounded on the door. Harry opened it cautiously, expecting to see a glowering Professor Snape. Instead, he found a disheveled Ginny Weasley. "Hi, Harry,” she said brightly. “Professor Snape told me you were still down here. He asked me to tell you to hurry up, too, because your time is almost up. Only he didn’t say it that nicely," she added, grinning wryly. Harry couldn’t help but grin in return. Ginny’s hair was coming loose from the braid she usually wore for Quidditch practice, and he noticed there were smudges of dirt on one of her cheeks. “Rough practice?” he asked. “Don’t get me started, Potter,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You owe me one, and I fully intend to collect.” Ginny took a few steps forward and glanced briefly around the room before her eyes returned to Harry. “I don’t see a cauldron. Have you finished?” she asked. "Just now,” Harry answered, “but I have to drop a sample of my potion by Professor Snape’s office. Let me grab my things and you can walk with me. But first...” Harry reached up to grasp Ginny’s chin and gently tilted it to one side to expose the smudges of mud on her cheek. With the sleeve of his robe, he wiped them away but discovered the faint beginnings of a bruise. “That’s going to hurt later. You should put some ice on it, or a cooling charm,” he said, tracing the mark lightly with his thumb. Ginny drew back from him so that he released his grasp on her chin. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” “No, it’s okay, you didn’t. I, um, thanks,” she said, before turning and stepping back towards the door. “Let’s go,” she said over her shoulder. “If we don’t hurry, you’ll be late.” Harry retrieved his rucksack, his potions kit and the Butterbeer bottle, then joined Ginny in the corridor, where together they set off for Professor Snape's office. As they walked, Harry gestured towards the bruise on her face. "What happened?" he asked, feeling guilty that she had been injured while covering for him. "Jack Sloper happened, that's what," Ginny snapped. "He's had over two years; I just don't understand.... I mean, how hard can it be?" Harry groaned, almost afraid to ask for more details. "What did he do this time?" "Well, I'll give him one thing. At least he managed to hit the Bludger this time," Ginny grumbled. "Of course, then he let go of his bat, which came sailing along towards me. I ducked, but I wasn’t quite fast enough. The prat’s lucky I didn’t hex him." "Are you all right?" Harry asked, even more concerned now that he knew the details of the injury. She didn't seem to have sustained any serious damage, but he wondered if he should take her up to see Madame Pomfrey, just the same. "I'm fine, Harry. The bat barely grazed me. Colin and I were working on the Porskoff Ploy, like you asked, and I had just caught the Quaffle. Guess that’s why I didn’t see it coming in time." "I hope you gave him what for," Harry said sternly. He was seriously considering tracking down Sloper after he turned his potion in to Snape. "Believe me, I did," Ginny replied, nodding. "Made him run laps around the pitch, too. Oh, before I forget, the reason I came down here was because Ron needs his assignments for Divination. Hermione said you were supposed to stop by Trelawney's classroom this afternoon?" "Right, I almost forgot. I have them here, somewhere." Harry stopped in the middle of the corridor and kneeled down to rummage through his books and parchments. "Here, hold this a tick, would you?" he asked, thrusting the Butterbeer bottle at Ginny. "I would have sworn I had tucked them into my Charms text," he muttered, shifting the contents of his rucksack this way and that. "Must've got mixed up when I dumped everything out..." "Harry, is this some sort of new flavor or something? Snozzberry, perhaps?” Ginny asked. “It's awfully sweet. And what were you doing with Butterbeer down in the potions dungeon anyway? You know Professor Snape doesn't allow food or drink in his classroom." A sense of dread overcame Harry as he turned to look up at Ginny. She was looking down into the Butterbeer bottle. The open Butterbeer bottle. "Ginny, no!" Harry swiped the bottle away Ginny and peered into it. The bottle was half empty. Harry moaned in horror. "Oh, Ginny, you didn't." "I didn’t what?” Ginny asked, confused. “You've never had a problem with me filching Butterbeer off of you before. Afraid you'll catch my germs?" she teased. I can't believe this is happening, Harry thought. He re-capped the bottle and held it up to her. "Ginny, this isn't Butterbeer. This is my potion," he said fiercely. "How was I supposed to know? It’s in a Butterbeer bottle!" Ginny shot back. She cocked her head to one side and looked at the bottle, and then looked up at him contritely. "I’m sorry, Harry, but at least there's still enough of it for you to turn into Professor Snape." "I wish it were that simple," Harry said sickly. "Ginny, you don't know what you've done." Ginny’s eyes grew larger and her hand drifted up to her throat. “Harry, you didn’t just poison me, did you?” she whispered. "No...." Harry replied in a strangled voice. Ginny seemed relieved until he continued. "This might be worse." "What could possibly be worse?" she asked. Harry opened his mouth to explain, but not a sound came out, no matter how hard he tried to answer her. He groaned in frustration. Snape's "forbidding" charm wouldn't dissipate until he handed the potion in for a grade. "Harry?" Ginny prompted. Harry finally grabbed his wand and used it to draw a heart made of glowing red and gold sparks in mid-air. "What...?" Ginny began in confusion. Then her eyes grew round as saucers, and her mouth fell open into a round O. Harry grabbed her arm and began pulling her along with him her. "Come on, let's go find Professor Snape. Maybe there's an antidote." "But your books...." Ginny warbled, seemingly incapable of forming a coherent a sentence. "I'll get them later. Now, come on! If we hurry, maybe there's something he can do." Harry broke into a run, forcing Ginny to follow. When they arrived at Professor Snape's office, they burst in without knocking, both huffing from the exertion. Snape’s head shot up from where it was bent over his desk, and he scowled furiously at them. "What is the meaning of this, Potter?" Snape demanded. "How dare you...." "Ginny drank some of my potion," Harry interrupted breathlessly. He set the half-empty bottle on Snape's desk. The professor peered at it uncomprehendingly at first, but then understanding began to dawn across his face. "Do not tell me you were foolish enough to store a potion in a Butterbeer bottle," he snapped in an icy tone. Harry looked down at his feet. Somehow, Professor Snape never failed to make him feel as clumsy and incompetent as he had his first day of class. "Yes, sir. I thought I had included a stoppered vial when I collected my supplies for the exam. Apparently I was mistaken. The empty bottle was in my rucksack, so I used it instead." "Fifty points from Gryffindor for your abysmal lack of judgment, Potter. And you may expect that your midterm grade will be docked as well." "I don't care about the points,” Harry said impatiently. “I just want to know if there's an antidote for Ginny. She had no idea, it isn't fair for her to suffer for my mistake." Professor Snape’s glacial stare fell upon Ginny, who met it blankly. "Miss Weasley, being a sixth-year potions student, and a female, you are familiar with the Imitor Ardoris potion, are you not?" the professor barked. Ginny seemed to pull herself out of her shock. "The...the Imitor Ardoris?" she repeated. "Yes," Professor Snape hissed. Ginny nodded hesitantly as she answered. "Well, yes, I know it. That's the potion Harry was brewing?" she asked. If Harry didn't know better, he would have thought she was smiling. From hysteria, maybe, he thought. "Indeed,” the professor confirmed. “Miss Weasley, do enlighten Mr. Potter as to the effects of the potion, and the antidotes available." “Once administered, the potion begins to take effect within an hour at the most. The subject will begin to experience, and act upon, feelings of love and affection for the administrator of the potion,” Ginny explained, easily citing facts as if she were reading them from a textbook. “The symptoms will usually manifest as attempts to be close to the administrator, including frequent demonstrations of physical affection and flirtatious behavior. The subject will also indicate a desire to accommodate the administrator in any way possible, such as by performing tasks, providing information or fulfilling requests." Ginny paused in her recitation, glancing over at Professor Snape. When he nodded sharply, she continued. "Imitor Ardoris is one of the milder known formulations of love potions, because it simulates affection and love rather than infatuation or lust. The effects last approximately forty-eight hours. There are no known antidotes,” Ginny finished. "No antidotes?" Harry asked weakly. "No antidotes," Snape repeated darkly. "Then what do we do? There has to be something," Harry insisted. "Maybe I should take Ginny to the infirmary." "Miss Weasley is not ill, nor is she a danger to herself, to you, or to anyone else. The only thing to do is to let the potion run its course.” Professor Snape paused, and his lips formed into a horrible shape that could only be described as a smirk. "At least you've saved me the trouble of analyzing your potion, Potter." "What do you mean?" Harry asked, puzzled. "Miss Weasley's behavior over the next forty-eight hours will be a perfect barometer by which to determine your grade. If the potion was viable, you'll pass. If not, you'll fail." At that, Professor Snape directed his gaze back to the parchments spread across his desk. "I have work to do. You're dismissed. Return to your common room immediately." "What do you want me to do with that?" Harry asked, gesturing to the Butterbeer bottle. The professor didn’t bother to look up. "Leave it. I'll dispose of it properly. We certainly don't want anyone else drinking it," he said waspishly. Harry's feet refused to move. He couldn't believe his professor’s nonchalance towards the situation. It was one thing when Snape went out of his way to harass him, but this time Ginny was involved, too. Harry gaped at the professor, preparing to give him a piece of his mind, but Ginny intervened. "Come on, Harry," she said, taking him by the arm and leading him through the door. Harry expected her to head for Gryffindor Tower, but instead she turned back towards the potions classroom. "Where are you going?" Harry asked. "Your books - you just left them in the corridor,” Ginny reminded him. “Did you forget?" "Oh. Yeah, I guess I did,” Harry replied with a sheepish grin. “I'll go get them. You should go on up to the common room and, uh, rest...or something," he finished lamely. "Don’t be silly, Harry. I feel fine. Besides, I was going to go visit Ron," Ginny protested. “I promised I’d deliver his Divination assignment.” "I can take it to him. Unless you wanted Madame Pomfrey to take a look at your face?” Harry asked, knowing that while Ginny didn’t mind visiting someone in the infirmary, she hated being a patient there. Not surprisingly, she wrinkled her nose in distaste. “No, thank you,” she said firmly. “I believe I’ll go back up to the common room, after all. See you there.” Harry watched as she began to walk up the corridor alone. When she reached the corner, she turned once and waved, smiling, then disappeared from his sight. Was her smile a little too bright? And do her hips always sway like that? Harry mused for a moment. Then he shook himself and started down the corridor in the opposite direction, wondering how he would ever make it through the next two days. When Harry reached the Infirmary, Ron was the only patient staying overnight. Madame Pomfrey cautioned Harry to be quick, as lights-out was in a few minutes. Harry crept quietly over to his best friend's bed to discover he was sleeping. "Psst," Harry whispered. Ron awoke with a start and peered over at Harry with bleary eyes. "Oh, Harry, it's you. I was having a nightmare that Millicent Bulstrode was chasing me. I think she wanted to," Ron paused, turning slightly green, "ugh, kiss me." Ron grabbed for the water glass on the nightstand next to his bed and took several deep gulps. "Why were you dreaming about Millicent Bulstrode?" Harry asked, trying hard not to laugh at Ron's distress. Ron grimaced. "She was here earlier, right over there," Ron replied, gesturing to the bed next to his. "Said she sprained her ankle walking to class this afternoon. I think...I think she was making googly eyes at me." Ron shuddered heavily and took several more gulps of water. "And Goyle was with her. Glaring at me, he was. I think he fancies himself her boyfriend. He just stood there, smacking his fist into his palm. As if I would be interested in Millicent." Ron grimaced again at the very thought. "I thought I just might kiss Madame Pomfrey when she told them Millicent could go." Boyfriend... Does Ginny have a boyfriend? Am I going to have to explain to some bloke why I've given his girlfriend a love potion? Harry wondered. No. No. I'd know if she had a boyfriend. Now if I can just keep Ron from finding out.... He's liable to hex first and ask questions later. Harry shook his head and groaned softly to himself. "What's wrong, mate?" Ron asked. "And why are you here, anyway? I thought Ginny was coming." "Erm...well, Ginny wasn’t really feeling up to it. She, uh, she took a hit during Quidditch practise," Harry began to explain, but Ron interrupted. "Is she hurt? Why didn't you bring her down here?" he demanded. Ron shifted his legs over the side of the bed, as if he was set to go and see about his sister himself. Harry held out a hand to stop him. "Ron, she's fine. She was just sore, and a little tired, so I sent her up to the common room," he said. "How did you find out about it, anyway?" Ron asked, appearing puzzled. "I thought you had a Potions examination, or something." "Uh, well, I did," Harry hedged. The last thing he wanted to do was try to explain to Ron that he had inadvertently given his baby sister a love potion. Harry imagined that if Ron found out, no one would ever find all of his body parts. "She came by afterwards to get your Divination assignment, but she, uh, looked so knackered that I told her I'd bring it to you instead. Here," Harry said, thrusting a sheaf of parchments towards Ron. "Thanks. You all right, Harry?" Ron asked, eyeing his friend. "You seem a little twitchy." "Fine," Harry began in a croaky voice. "Ahem, I mean, I'm fine." Ron didn't seem entirely convinced, but he let the matter drop. "So, what potion did you have to make? You can tell me now that it's over, can't you?" "Uh...." Harry went blank. Fortunately, he was saved from having to reply by the timely arrival of Madame Pomfrey, shooing him away. Harry, relieved at first, bid Ron a good night and let himself out into the corridor. Then, as he realized he must return to the common room, and Ginny, panic began to set in. He walked slowly, taking the longest possible route he knew of to get to Gryffindor Tower, even braving Peeves's water balloons and Filch's wrath to put off the inevitable as long as possible. Finally, he reached the Fat Lady's portrait, where he stopped cold, taking several deep breaths to attempt to calm his nerves. "Whatever is wrong, dear?" she asked. "What makes you think something's wrong?" Harry asked, irritated that he was so transparent. "You're all flushed. Running a fever, perhaps? Or meeting a lady friend?" the portrait asked slyly. "Oh, hush up, you cheeky bint," Harry grumbled. “Oh!” the Fat Lady gasped, offended. Harry was immediately contrite. “I’m sorry,” he muttered to the lady in the portrait, who had turned her back on him. “Look, could you please just let me in? I’ve had a horrible day.” The Fat Lady did not turn around right away, but after a moment she relented. "Password?" she intoned icily. "Glumbumble," Harry replied in a dismal tone. The portrait opened to let Harry pass. He stepped quietly through the opening, hoping to draw as little attention to himself as possible, but in her pique, the Fat Lady slammed shut with a loud bang. Students all around the room jumped in surprise, staring at him. Harry's eyes fell upon Ginny almost immediately. She was sitting with Dean Thomas and the Creevey brothers; they appeared to have been playing cards. Ginny smiled, then returned to her card game. Harry felt his cheeks redden. "Harry. Harry? Harry!" Harry snapped to attention when he realized Hermione had been calling his name. He walked quickly to where she was waiting at one of the study tables and dropped into a chair across from her. When he angled his chair just so, he could see Ginny over Hermione's shoulder. She had resumed her game and was now giggling at Dennis Creevey, who was slapping soot out of his singed eyebrows. Dean began dealing another hand to each player, and as he flipped a card towards Ginny, he gave her a wink and a grin. Ginny grinned in return, her eyes sparkling with humor. Harry wondered if Ginny always smiled that way at Dean, in a manner that was flirtatious and almost...well, almost sexy. He vaguely heard someone mumbling something across from him. Harry shook himself out of his stupor, feeling slightly queasy, and focused his attention on Hermione. "Sorry, what?" Harry asked. Whatever Hermione had said to him hadn't registered at all. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Harry, I think whatever you were brewing has gone to your head. I asked what potion you drew for your examination?" she repeated exasperatedly. "Oh. I thought we weren't supposed to discuss it with anyone?" Harry asked, puzzled. "Professor Snape said we couldn't talk about it until after we had completed our examinations. I finished mine earlier today; you just finished yours. So, was it something dreadful?" Hermione asked, her eyes alight with anticipation. "Um..." Harry stalled, wracking his brain for an answer, but he knew Hermione would eventually wrangle the truth out of him. "It was Imitor Ardoris," he mumbled. Hermione goggled at him in disbelief. "What did you say?" "Imitor Ardoris," Harry repeated in a louder voice. Lavender and Parvati, who were sitting at a table behind Hermione, glanced at him, giggling. Harry flushed in embarrassment. "Harry, that's a love potion," Hermione whispered. "Are you certain you read the assignment correctly?" Harry sighed in exasperation. "I'm certain, Hermione. I even asked Snape about it because I didn't believe it myself." "I can't believe he would assign a love potion as a midterm," Hermione mused, half to herself. "Though it makes sense, sort of. Love potions are notoriously difficult to concoct. How did it go?" "Umm...okay, I guess," Harry muttered. "Just okay? Do you think you passed?" Harry was certain he felt Ginny's eyes on him, but when he risked a glance, she was chatting with her fellow card players. Am I imagining it, or has she scooted her chair closer to Creevey? he thought. As he watched, Colin slipped his arm along the back of Ginny's chair. He wasn't quite hugging her, but he might as well have been, as far as Harry was concerned. "Harry? I asked if you passed?" "Oh. I don't know, yet, Hermione," he said, irritation creeping into his voice. But it certainly doesn't look like it, so far, he thought. Hermione turned and followed his gaze to the table where Ginny sat. She turned back to find that Harry's gaze hadn't wavered, and a knowing smile crept across her face. "Something wrong, Harry?" she asked innocently. "No." Harry's answer was terse. He nodded his head in the direction of the card players. "Are she and Creevey going out?" "Not that I know of," Hermione replied breezily. "They're just friends. Why do you ask?" "No reason,” Harry said. “I was just thinking it would be hard to slip a sheet of parchment between them, is all. She's practically sitting in his lap." Hermione laughed. "Since when do you care who Ginny's chummy with, Harry?" Since she's supposed to be flirting with me, Harry thought. He forced his gaze away from Ginny, but couldn't quite bring himself to look Hermione in the eye. "I've always cared," he protested. "She's my friend, isn't she? Besides, Ron's in the infirmary. Someone's got to look out for her." "The last thing Ginny needs is yet another big brother hanging over her shoulder, Harry," Hermione replied matter-of-factly. "I'll say," Ginny agreed, startling Harry, who hadn't noticed her approach and stand at his elbow. "I didn't exactly mean it that way," he muttered darkly. "Good," Ginny said coolly. "Speaking of big brothers, did you see Ron?" Harry nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak. His pulse had begun to race the moment Ginny had appeared, and he was certain he was beginning to blush. Ginny didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary, however. "Was he all right?" she asked. Harry swallowed to ease the tightness in his throat. "Fine. He was fine. I only stayed long enough to give him his assignment." "You didn't mention you were going to visit Ron," Hermione said in a hurt tone. "I would have gone with you." "But.... I..." Harry stammered, unsure how to explain. "Harry went in my place, Hermione. He thought I might not be feeling well," Ginny explained with a smirk. "Is there a reason you might not be feeling well?" Hermione asked. Ginny looked pointedly at Harry, who flushed dully and looked away. Hermione's gaze darted between the two in apparent fascination. Ginny finally relented. "It was nothing, really,” she said. “I had a run-in with a Beater’s bat at practise, that’s all." "Oh, are you okay, Ginny?" Hermione asked, concerned. "Yeah, Ginny. How are you feeling?" Harry inquired sharply. "I feel perfectly fine, Harry, no different from the way I always do," Ginny replied, laying a hand on his shoulder and gracing him with a genuine smile. "In fact, I think I'll go up to bed and get a good night's sleep. See you two in the morning." With that, Ginny waltzed up the stairs. Harry watched her go, and then he turned to find Hermione watching him, her head cocked to one side. "Harry, is there something going on between you and Ginny?" Hermione asked. "Have you argued?" "No, Hermione," Harry replied shortly. "Nothing is going on at all. I'm going to turn in, too. Goodnight."
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