Chapter One: Jinxed Juice

Harry Potter sat down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall and rested his forehead on the table next to his golden plate. He was dead tired after a night of relentless Potions homework. Snape had once again given a ridiculously long essay on the properties of love potions, and their different variations. All the girls, of course, thought it was fascinating, and the boys had groaned with the prospect of a week of giggles and whispers, and never drinking anything that they hadn't seen fixed before their very eyes, for fear of falling under the spell of such a potion.

Of course, the concocting of a love potion was illegal by Ministry laws, but still, considering all that had happened at Hogwarts since the arrival of Harry Potter, the sixth year boys never could be too careful.

"Morning," Ron grunted, sitting down across from Harry, who kept his head on the table, but managed a grunt of acknowledgement back. Had he lifted his head from the wood, he would have seen that Ron was livid, but he needn't bother, because Ron soon expressed this in words.

"Hermione's gone mad. She found out that I burned that damn homework organizer, and she blew the coop. She went completely berserk, and started ranting about how I'm always putting off my homework until the last minute, and that if I keep it up, I'd end up unemployed."

Harry lifted his head from the table and looked up at Ron. He was obviously infuriated. His ears were as red as his hair, and his eyes were shining. "She said that if I didn't straighten up, I'd end up as poor as the rest of my family," he muttered, finally. Harry's jaw dropped.

"Ron…She didn't mean it, and you know it…Hermione's just under a lot of stress, you know that. She can't think properly when she's stressed, and sometimes she says things she doesn't mean. You know she just wants the best for you," Harry consoled. Ron was quivering, half with anger, and half with sadness.

"I know…But it really struck home."

"Your family is not…" He trailed off, not wanting to actually say it.

"Poor?" Ron supplied, defeated. Harry nodded.

"…not because your parents don't work hard, or aren't good enough. But your dad doesn't have the best job at the Ministry, and considering there's eleven of you, you'd have to be as rich as the Malfoys to be considered 'well-off.' But if there weren't eleven of you, where would I be? Miserable, and without my best friend, that's where. I'd only have Hermione to keep me company. I'd go mad!" Ron looked up and managed a smile.

"You're right. I should've known Hermione couldn't mean it. She'll probably come running to me, teary eyed, begging for forgiveness. Anyways, are we having practice today? Because I've got some really good moves I thought up last night…"

And so Ron was off, ranting about his Quidditch moves he had deciphered. Although Harry was captain, he depended a lot on Ron, and had finally gotten Ron officially declared co-captain, though he'd always been. He was much better at Keeper now that he didn't have Angelina "Channeling-Oliver-Wood's-Spirit" Johnson breathing down his neck, and he was good at coming up with strategy. Despite this, he still liked to creep around the Quidditch pitch during the Slytherin team's practice time.

Harry was so tired, he didn't really listen. He had a vague idea that Ron's latest tactics involved combining the Dopplebeater Defense, Woollongong Shimmy, and the Wronski Feint, but he wouldn't stake his life on it. Yawning, he picked up his goblet of Pumpkin Juice and took a long gulp of it.

It was bitter and sickly sweet at the same time, like poisoned honey. Harry choked and spluttered, spitting out what little he hadn't swallowed, but most of the juice had gone down before he could react.

"Harry, are you all right?" Harry's head snapped up, and his eyes met those of Ron, who was halfway leaning across the table, his blue eyes filled with concern for his best friend. "Did you choke?" he asked, and Harry felt his stomach do a flip-flop. Ron looked so beautiful when he worried…

Beautiful! Harry gasped to himself. He jerked his hand back, which, to his horror, had been reaching over to grasp Ron's jaw, and fell backwards, off of the bench. He crashed to the floor, then scrambled up. Ignoring Ron's shouts, he fled the Great Hall, leaving it in a stunned silence.

His breath coming in ragged gasps, he ran for the only place he knew he could find solitude. He headed for the library in search of his other best friend.

Bursting into the library and ignoring Madame Pince's evil looks, Harry headed for Hermione's usual table. Sure enough, behind a large stack of ancient books was the not-so-bushy head of Hermione Granger.

"Hermione!" he gasped, skidding to a halt next to her. She looked up and Harry realized her eyes were red and swollen from tears. "'Mione, what's wrong?" he asked, sinking into the chair next to her. She gazed back at him, and blinked back more tears.

"R-Ron," she whimpered, wiping, futilely, at her eyes. "I s-said the m-most horrible things t-to him!" Harry took her hands in his, comfortingly. "I told him that if he d-didn't work hard, he'd end up as p-poor as the rest of his family!" She began to sob, loudly, and Harry hugged her.

"Shh…Calm down, Hermione," he soothed, rocking her, slightly. "I already talked to Ron. I told him that you didn't mean it, and that you were only looking out for his well being. If you apologize to him, I know he'll forgive you." Hermione lifted her brown eyes to his.

"You think so?" she sniffed, hopefully. He nodded, and smiled at her. Then it struck him. He had his own problem with Ron.

"Um, Hermione, I kind of have my own problem with Ron, and I need your help…" Harry trailed off, awkwardly, and Hermione wiped at her eyes.

"Yes?" she prodded, looking at him, expectantly. He blushed, slightly. How was he supposed to tell her that he had suddenly wanted to put his arms around Ron, run his fingers through that silky red hair, and kiss every freckle he possessed?

"Um, uh, well you see…" he started, but the bell had suddenly rang. Hermione jumped up.

"We're late for class!" she gasped. "I'm sorry, Harry. I'll have to talk to you later! We'll talk during lunch, okay?" Before Harry could say anything, she had dashed off. Dismayed, Harry stood up and headed for the Gryffindor Tower to get his things as well. However, every single class he had was with Ron. It was going to prove to be a long and tedious morning.