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“Okay class, settle down now, settle down!”
Professor Slughorn strode about the front of the classroom, his walrus-like mustache twitching as he smiled.
“I see you have all found the vials I left on your tables. Since we have been studying love potions, I thought we would have a little quiz---now now, don’t start pocketing some to slip your special someone!” He winked at a girl on the Slytherin side of the room, who slunk behind her cauldron.
“As we have already covered, it is impossible to replicate or create true feelings of love. We can, however, mimic some effects that come close. Now, each of your potions exhibit different traits. I want you all to take your vial and brew its antidote, using what you know about the potion’s physical properties and its effects. Yes, you may have to try some of it!,” someone flinched, “but I assure you that all of these are harmless, though possibly a bit embarrassing.
“These are fairly simple potions, so I hope you will have all found your antidotes by the end of class. If you have not, please review your textbooks and brew it outside of class.They are all required by tonight, before dinner; if you have not successfully brewed something by then, come to my office before the deadline for your antidote. Doing this will result in a failing grade for the assignment.
“Good luck!” With these words, everyone began uncorking their vials and opening their textbooks. As Harry began to open (and stare blankly at) his vial, Professor Slughorn strutted over and threw him a grin.
“Now Harry, yours may be a bit trickier to figure out--but I know that won’t stop you!” His eyes flashed with excitement; he then turned to the class, seemingly randomly, and called out “I look forward to seeing your positive results!”
As he left their table with a wink, Hermione looked rather smug.
“I guess your precious Prince won’t be of much help this time around.” She smiled darkly before starting on her own potion, seemingly brimming with confidence.
Ron, however, expressed only fear. “Will he really not be able to help us?”
Harry quickly flipped through the textbook; while there were notes on how to create love potions, there was little on how to identify and cure them. His face fell.
Hermione began to hum under her breath.
The hour flew by, though regularly punctured by confessions of love and horrible pick up lines. A few students struggled to brew their antidotes while being hugged by classmates.
“Any luck, mate?”
Harry shook his head; he had drank some of his vial not long after he had given up on the Prince’s help, but had yet to feel a single change.
“How am I supposed to make an antidote for a potion that doesn’t work?” He gazed at what was left of his potion with frustration. With each second that ticked by, he felt the disappointed eyes of Professor Slughorn burn into his skin.
When class ended, most of the class had turned in their finished antidotes. A few voices mumbled darkly about the assignment, though; Dean and Seamus still hadn’t figured out how to stop holding hands.
“Aw man, I have no idea how to do this! I should just accept my failing grade now and ask for my antidote, I don’t want to go through the rest of my day singing love ballads.” Ron had walked out of the classroom in a slump--he had found himself singing to three different girls by the time class had ended, and almost sang to Professor Sprout on the way out. Harry had nearly memorized what was supposedly one of Mrs. Weasley’s favourite love songs.
“Yeah, well at least you know what yours does! I still don’t have a clue whether mine worked or not.” harry looked at his half-filled vial and frowned.
Hermione chose this moment to finally talk to them.
“Well, maybe if you two had just learned the material like the rest of us, you wouldn’t be in this mess! Especially you Harry, you use that book of yours like a crut—WOAH!”
In that moment, Harry suddenly felt his body running toward Hermione of its own will—he kissed Hermione on the lips and jumped back immediately, obviously shocked.
Ron was fuming. “Hey man, what did you do that for?!”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know, it just happened!”
Hermione stood agape. Ron, still in a foul temper, was yelling that ‘it better not happen again’ when Colin Creevey walked up from behind them.
“What’s everyone yelling about, Harry?”
And just like last time, Harry found his body out of his control. He kissed Colin swiftly before jumping back.”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I think it’s a potion—”
“No, it’s okay,” Colin replied, a bit dreamily. “Uh, I gotta go tell my friends something, bye.” Still in a bit of a daze, he flew over to some other Gryffindors, soon talking in shocked, awed tones.
By now, Hermione had gotten over her shock and seemed to be in deep thought, while Ron looked highly skeptical.
“What’s up with you, Harry—NO NO NO NO NO!”
Harry had rushed up to kiss Ron. Luckily, Ron had pushed him away in time.
“Thanks Ron, that was a close one.”
“If you hate it so much, why’d you try to snog me?!”
“I don’t know, I can’t control it!”
Hermione stood still, her brow knit in thought. “Do you think it has something to do with what we’re saying?”
“I talked with him all through potions! Maybe it doesn’t work in the dungeon or something…”
Harry frowned. No matter which way he saw it, there was no clear answer—for all he knew, he would be kissing every person he saw. Something uncomfortable tightened in his stomach.
“I don’t think I should go to our next class.”
“But you’ve simply got to! We’ll hold you down if you fly off the handle, so you don’t have to worry.”
It turned out that there was plenty to worry about. He ended up kissing two classmates when Ron and Hermione were off their guard, one of which he had to run all the way across the classroom to reach. When he finally took the walk of shame back to his seat, all eyes were on him. His face was burning. To make things worse, Peeves floated into the classroom, snickering evilly.
“Aw, is ickle Potter feeling a bit... Peckish?”
He howled with laughter as Harry attempted to jump to Peeves with his lips pursed. Ron and Hermione managed to hold him back, but he looked like a fool once again in front of the whole class.
Harry left the room at the end of class feeling considerably more depressed than when he had entered. Hermione tried to console him, but it didn’t do much good.
“It could have been worse, you know—you could have kissed the teacher!”
“I think the professor was too scared to call on me…”
As they walked down the hall, they became aware of Draco Malfoy not too far ahead of them, backed by his usual grunts Crabbe and Goyle.
“I heard from Peeves about your little self control problem, Potter. He’s telling every—”
Before he could finish his sentence, Harry had already cut him off with a kiss. Both boys jumped apart immediately, Malfoy actually stumbling into Crabbe and Goyle. If it was possible, Ron looked even more disgusted than Malfoy did.
“Y-you!!” Malfoy swiped roughed at his own mouth, wiping it with his sleeve. Anger dyed his cheeks a swift red.”How DARE you! I won’t stand to be humiliated like this—j-just you wait, Potter!”
Harry kissed him again. Malfoy slapped him hard across the face before turning on his heel and dragging Crabbe and Goyle down the hall. His shoulders shook with rage as he seethed, and every now and then the quiet was cut by one of his agonized screams or spat out profanities.
Harry, meanwhile, stood in place, his cheek red and stinging, a look of utter despair painted over his face.
“Are you okay, mate?” Ron asked tentatively.
Harry slowly shook his head.
Hermione cleared her throat. “Well, if it helps… I think I figured out your trigger.”
Harry’s head shot up. “What is it?!”
“Harry.”
He suddenly ran up to kiss her, but she pushed him away just in time. “Just as I thought—It’s your name. You kiss anyone who says your name.”
“What kind of dumb potion is that?” Ron exclaimed.
“I’m sure some awful romantic could use that to their advantage—or some bully. Anyway, since you know the symptoms now, it should be easier to find an antidote.”
“You’re going to help me?” Harry immediately stood straight up, grinning with relief.
“No, I’m not.” Harry deflated. “Personally, I think that you would have been able to complete that assignment if you didn’t lean on that book so much. You’ll be solving this one on your own… I gave you all the help you need by telling you the trigger.”
Despite Hermione’s smugness, making the antidote did not become any easier. Ron and Harry both spent all evening with their potion-making kits in the commons room, but between Ron’s love ballads and Harry’s need to be restrained anytime someone talked about him (which happened a lot, due to Peeves), neither made much headway. Dinner was quickly approaching, and their failing grade drew ever nearer.
Hermione, putting aside her studies, sat down beside them in the last few minutes, looking rather frazzled. “Fine, fine, I’ll help if it puts an end to that infernal singing! Ron, if you don’t stop soon, I will put a gag on you! And you’re doing it wrong; you’re supposed to use snake eyes.”
She was able to finish Ron’s antidote fairly quickly, but by the time she was finding ingredients for Harry’s, the common room had been emptied.
“I think everyone’s already gone down to dinner. We don’t want to get there late, I heard there’s something excellent tonight.” Ron, massaging his throat, stood up with a grin. “Harry, you can get your antidote when I turn in mine. Hermione can go ahead and save us some spots.”
There was a note of boasting in his voice that Harry didn’t exactly enjoy, especially since Hermione was the one that made his antidote. He got up all the same.
“Fine. I wonder how surprised Professor Slughorn will be when he realizes that I’ve failed the assignment…”
Leaving through the portrait hole, they separated with Hermione and started toward Slughorn’s office. The halls were primarily empty, but they saw a few stragglers going to turn in a last minute antidote or secure a cure. There was also, surprisingly, Draco Malfoy. At the sight of him, Ron broke into a huge grin.
“Hey Malfoy, were you not able to make an antidote?” Ron held up his own vial proudly. Malfoy, however, only scoffed.
“I finished mine in class, Weasle.” Ron’s grin disappeared. “No, I came to get my revenge on a mister Harry Pot—”
Before he knew it, Harry had run from Ron’s side to kiss Malfoy full on the lips. The result was immediate; his pale cheeks burning crimson, he back-pedalled and thrust out his wand.
“N-now see here Potter, I—”
Another kiss. Malfoy’s screech was muffled against the other’s lips. Something like an idea flashed through Harry’s eyes.
“You were saying, Malfoy?
Harry was, oddly enough, smiling.
“I…” Eyes wide, he slowly tried to find his words through his anger and shock. “How dare—!!”
He was cut off by another kiss. Ron audibly gasped.
“I’ll hex—”
A kiss.
“If you don’t—”
Another.
“Stop—!”
Yet another kiss interrupted him, this one a bit longer than the others. Malfoy visibly struggled, pushing and hitting Harry weakly, but Harry must have done something, because Malfoy suddenly went rigid, struggling no more.
When they parted soon after, Malfoy was out of breath, his usually pale face now flushed. For a moment, he seemed at a loss for words.
“.....Potter…”
Another quick kiss cut him off. Harry pulled back, looking perfectly pleased with himself.
“Sorry Malfoy. See, it’s the love potion I got from professor Slughorn this morning.”
“A-ah, I see…”
“Yeah, he gave me something a bit more difficult to decipher, since I’m so great in class and all.”
“Yeah…”
“I need to go get my antidote now, so I hope you won’t mind if I go now.”
“Sure, sure….”
Harry gave the braindead Malfoy a modest smirk, seeming to find a lot of amusement from the sight. After a moment Malfoy began to snap out of it, because his dazed look soon returned to a weaker form of its usual sneer.
“Well? Get out of here before I really hex you!”
Harry grinned and ran off. He was still grinning when Ron rejoined him, a look of horror across his features.
“What the bloody hell was that?! Half of those times, he didn’t even say your name!”
Harry merely shrugged in reply. “I know. I faked those.”
Ron choked. “You faked—why?! What in heavens for?”
“After the first one, it just felt so easy, and I wanted to shut him up… And, I don’t know, it felt like I had power over him, or something. Yeah, I felt powerful.” Something seemed to light up in his eyes. “Did you see him at the end, there? Usually he wouldn’t have even hesitated to hex me!”
Ron blanched.
“You’re sick, man! You’re sick in the head!”
“Maybe. I might do it again, it really did shut him up well. Just don’t tell Hermione, she’d have a fit.”
Ron merely shook his head, his face turning a delicate shade of green.
“I don’t want to think about this anymore. I think that potion poisoned your brain…”
“Then let’s hurry and get my antidote, I’m starved.”
“I think I lost my appetite.”