Summary: When a potion is tweaked to make it "better", the unknowing drinkers get more than they bargained for. Frequent trips to relieve themselves leave them feeling restless and unsatisfied. There was only one bushy haired girl in all of Hogwarts that had the brains to help them out.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and do not hope to make any money off of the fantastic brain child that is J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter. There are also small bits that I took from A Midsummer Night's Dream. Thank you, Mr. Shakespeare!
Granger Always Has the Answer
Prologue:
The streets of Diagon Alley were deserted and dark; the sun had set over an hour ago. A ruckus could be heard from the pub at the end when the front door opened, but all else was still. The pets in the Emporium dozed in their cages and the giant doors to Gringotts had been bolted shut. Not everyone had turned out their candles, however.
One shop on the street, always more lively than any other during the day, was run by a set of twins. What a pair of entrepreneurs they were. That very evening, the two men stood in the back room of the shop, both bent over two large cauldrons; one brimming with a violent pink mixture and the other with a dark, velvety blue.
"Our greatest invention ever, George," one ginger-haired man says to the other.
"You say that about every product, Fred," the other replied while making a mark on his clipboard.
"And I'm always right," Fred agreed. He reached for a small bottle on the counter that was supporting various other potions ingredients. "Love-in-idleness juice," he announced, sucking up a liberal amount into the eyedropper that was nearby.
"Strange name considering what it does," George commented as he looked down at his notes. "Only a bit," he cautioned, "we don't want to overwhelm the tempered cocoa."
"That's mostly for flavour anyway, it wouldn't be any good if it tasted grand but the effect wore off," Fred countered.
"That isn't the only ingredient affecting the effectiveness." George held up his clipboard. "We've tested it with three drops and it's worked well. Let's just keep it at that."
"Of course, dear brother." Fred dropped three distinct drops in the pink liquid. "If that's what the paper says." He deposited the same amount into the other cauldron. Both tinctures bubbled excitedly before simmering.
"Right then, off to bed." George yawned, stretching his arms overhead. He took three steps toward the staircase that led up to the second floor before he noticed his brother wasn't following. "Coming, Fred?"
Fred was kneeling, his fingers wrapped in the laces of his trainers. "Be right up," he promised. He bowed his head and finished the knot. By the time he was done, George was already gone.
Grinning like a cat, Fred picked up the flower juice and added another three drops to each potion. Knowing what they would be used for, he didn't feel the slightest bit of guilt as he returned the small container to its proper place on the shelf. They would probably thank him in the long run, if they ever knew.