A/N: Slughorn may have just poisoned a student. I thought to tell this HBP scene from Professor Slughorn's PoV. I'm sure he had a few interesting thoughts about the situation. I do not own Harry Potter.

Submission for:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments): Potions Assignment #7 -Write about someone getting poisoned then being cured by a bezoar. Prompts: shock, "Yikes!"

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments): Hogwarts Scavenger Hunt - Ronald Weasley

The Lottery Competition: dancing, love struck, alcohol, fight, sour

I had been a bit of trouble sleeping since Potter's horrid question. After years, I had been able to put the memory behind me, distracting myself with potions and books, but there was no way I could run away from it. It was all my fault. It haunted me then and it's haunting me now.

There was a soft knock at my office door pulling me from my thoughts. 'Who could that be at this hour on a Saturday?'

Drawing on a robe, I quickly moved to open the door to reveal a slightly-worried looking Harry and his friend who looked a bit dazed trying to look into the room behind me.

Harry whispered, "Professor, I'm sorry to disturb you but my friend Ron's ate a few chocolates infused with some type of love potion. Could you make him an antidote? I'd take him to Madame Pomfrey but-"

I frowned, not really wanting to spend too much time around the boy after our discussion. "I'd have thought an expert potioneer like you could whip up an antidote quickly?"

The dark-haired boy shifted nervously but then his friend jabbed him in the ribs. "How old were these chocolates? Their effects get stronger over time," I wondered out loud.

Harry practically fighting with his friend to keep him from running into my office. 'Yikes! Definitely strengthened.' Harry looked at me pleadingly, "It's his birthday, Professor."

I sighed and turned to let the boys inside. The redhead burst into the room and almost tripped on my rug. "You promised she'd be here, Harry."

Harry answered, "She isn't here yet," while I quickly moved to my little potion kit and began making up the antidote. A simple potion would counteract a little love potion.

I turned back to the boys. The love struck redhead was dancing on the balls of his feet and mumbling something. Typical effects of the potion really. I should properly investigate those chocolates. "How do I look?" he asked Potter.

"Very handsome," I said as I handed the him the finished potion. "Now drink that up." The boy made a sour face before I added, "It'll help with the nerves and keep you calm before she gets here."

That did the trick. Weaselby eagerly downed it one go. It took two seconds before his beaming smile sagged and vanished to be replaced with one of horror. "Blimey, where am I?" he asked.

I chuckled as Harry commented, "Back to normal then."

The boy collapsed into a nearby armchair. "Now how about a little pick me up?" I asked as I moved towards my little drinks table. "Nothing like a drink to chase away the pain of love." There was butterbeer, wine, a bottle of oak-matured mead... Though the boys were underaged, there was nothing wrong with a little alcohol to warm up the bones and to get over love.

I poured each of them a glass and raised his own. "I propose a toast. A very happy birthday to Ralph!"

Harry muttered something but Weaselby drank his glass eagerly. That boy needed to learn how to drink a bit slower.

I was about to say more when Harry shouted "Ron!"

Weaselby dropped his glass and then fell out of the chair and onto the floor, shaking uncontrollably. I'm sure the shock was evident on my face. I took the mead bottle and sniffed the opening slightly. I just poisoned a student.

What to do? What to do? Potter was on the ground, trying to help his friend who was frothing at the mouth. Harry shouted something but I didn't really hear anything.

"Oh dear," was all I muttered, frozen in place. The boy twitched and his skin was slowly turning blue.

Potter suddenly sprang to his feet and ran to my potion kit, pulling out bottles and pouches until he returned with a little stone. He then quickly shoved the stone into the shuddering boy. It was a tense few seconds before the redhaired boy gave a rattling gasp then stilled, his breathing leveling out.

I finally found my voice and asked, "Harry, what did you do?"

"Bezoar, Sir," Harry said.

The same bezoar I confiscated from him. Brilliant. I swallowed sheepishly, "Well done, points to Gryffindor." Then I looked down at the unconscious boy, "Let's get him to the hospital wing."