Disclaimer: People who think that I am J.K. Rowling need help. I don't own Harry Potter, probably never will.

"…" means talking

'…' means thoughts

Some people get confused : )

Hermione Granger was one mad witch walking back to the Gryffindor common room from the infirmary. She had just spent three hours in there, Madame Pomfrey fussing over her while clicking her tongue at her recklessness. Really, the bastard had it coming but she had been so consumed with rage that her spell backfired. Actually, she didn't even know what spell she was trying to use but it didn't matter. The fact of the matter was that somehow she had ended up hurt, looking like she had been in fight with a gang or something. He still has it coming to him.

"Jolly green giant."

Reaching the portrait she uttered the password to the Fat Lady and hastily went into the common room. Almost the whole of Gryffindor was down there waiting on her to come back. They all looked relieved to see that she was all right, but they were being somewhat apprehensive.

'Good, they should be,' Hermione thought.

"Hermione, thank Merlin you're OK! I was so worried about you. Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let me back in to see you after I brought you to the infirmary. Are you alright?"

Good-old Harry, she could always count on him.

"I'm fine Harry. Really. Just a little shaken up, that's all. I promise. Quit giving me that look!"

"Well good. Um, why don't we go sit down? We could talk…"

"I don't want to talk about it Harry. It's alright, I promise you. Let's just get to work on that potions essay that we were working on."

Ah, finally, the rigors of academia. A nice, hard essay is what I needed right now and Snape sure knew how to give them. Today's topic: The Different Types of Love Potions and How They Affect Different People. Yes, this could be my greatest accomplishment to date! Harry and I had been in the library, researching and drafting ideas when the fiasco had started. Needless to say, I was quite pissed when I was interrupted which probably hadn't helped the situation very much.



Harry had made the suggestion that we brew a love potion and test it on each other to see if two people who share a strong platonic and fraternal bond, like Harry and I, would become romantically interested in each other or if that bond was too strong. He even had the brilliancy to come up with the idea of brewing the antidote just in case the potion did generate some unwanted feelings, and possibly a memory charm afterwards. It was a brilliant idea and I latched onto it rather quickly. Big mistake apparently.

The bastard had been listening to the conversation and had to put his two-cents in.

"I don't want you to do that Hermione."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me! I don't want you taking some love potion that might take you from me."

"But we'll have the antidote. Nothing is going to happen."

"I said no! I won't have it! You are my fiancé and you will do what I say!"

'Oh no he didn't!'

That bastard had it coming from a mile away.

Thank you so much to those of you who took the time to read this. It's 3:00 in the morning here but this plot bubble has been in my head all night and I had to get it out. I don't know if I want this to be humor or drama yet so help me out. I hope you enjoyed it! Who's the bastard? We must wait until Chapter 2 to find out, won't we! Please review! All comments, criticisms, and suggestions are welcome!