A/N: This idea came to me a few years back. I followed through with it for a while, then quit. But here it goes. Hope you like it!
Lavender Brown rummaged through her suitcase. "Ha!" She had finally found what she was looking for. She pulled a small glass phial from underneath the four-poster bed. The glass phial held a pinkish substance that looked insurmountably like Pepto Bismol.
"What is that?" Parvati Patil, a petite, Indonesian looking girl, asked her best friend apprehensively. Lavender leaned up against the four-poster. "Love potion. Got it from the Weasley twins shop." Lavender held a crooked smile on her face. "I'm going to use it tomorrow before the Quidditch match.
"No, Lavender, do not. This is another one of your hell-forbid plans. And it is not going to work. McGonagall will catch you and you'll be cleaning the Potions dungeon from now until Easter. Also," Parvati said, casting a sarcastic smile toward her best friend, "who do you think you'll be casting this silly love potion on? And might I also ask how you will be doing this?
Lavender had a look of ease on her face. "Par, relax. First of all, how could you have not known that Ron Weasley was the man that I would be using this on? Mind you, that's all I've kind of been talking about for, uh, days-"
"Well, er, I've kind of been focused on Seamus." Parvati admitted nervously, biting her fingernails.
"Whatever, anyway, tomorrow morning I'm going to go down to the Gryffindor table ("Well, of course, what table would you go to?") and I'm going to pour the potion into my goblet and I'll offer it to Ron as pumpkin juice, and you know, he'll take it, obviously. I'll be the first one he sees because he will be thanking me for giving it to him. He'll fall desperately in love with me, so much so that after it wears off, he'll want to be with me, not that he'll have any choice, anyway. This plan is going to work perfect." Lavender said, flopping on to the four-poster, with a smile on her face.
"There is so much that could go wrong." Parvati said, facepalming.
