Chapter Eleven

The World's Most Dangerous (and Embarrassing) Potion Ever!

Another sleepless night drove the Headmistress into her office to review paperwork and administrative tasks. Thinking that going over the school fiscal records would put her to sleep was a good assumption, but it turned out to be wrong. Despite the fact that a copy-cat (pardon the pun) attack had happened on the school grounds, everything seemed to be returning to normal. Hate-owls and howlers seemed to be coming in fewer and fewer numbers, students generally seemed at ease and comfortable, and the teachers seemed to be performing well.

She sighed for a moment—there was still no sign of her niece. The Ministry of Magic had not been able to find the woman who was attacked nearly six months earlier. McGonagall knew that she was going to have to snuff out and flicker of hope that burned inside her heart for the return of her beloved niece. The old Headmistress stood up from her chair, removing her glasses and rubbing her tired eyes. She turned a small cabinet in the office and opened the doors. In front of her, silvery misty swirled within the magic pensive. She reached up for a vital of liquid and poured it into the basin below.

McGonagall found herself standing inside a warm and cozy house built of red bricks and large wooden beams. The fire place cackled and radiated warmth inside the house. This was the manor she grew up in as a child. Ever since the McGonagall family moved from Scotland to Wales many generations ago, they lived in this house. And there she was, sitting upon the couch reading a book. She was a few years younger—her hair still mostly dark instead of grey. Lines were starting to form along her face and eyes, but as compared to the present, she was almost twenty years younger.

The young McGonagall closed her book as voices approached the door.

"Do we really have to do this?" A man's voice spoke.

"What better time than today?" A woman answered back.

"You know they won't like it. They'll blame me for ruining their Christmas or something."

"They'll just have to accept it. No going back now." The woman grasped the door handle and burst into the house. "We're here!"

"Matilda!" The young McGonagall leapt off the couch and hugged her niece.

"Aunt Minerva! You look so well!"

Relatives poured from the kitchen. First came Matilda's mother, greeting her daughter with warm hugs. Her mother's two sisters followed afterwards with cheek pinches and kisses. Cousins came with greetings, hugs, and warm welcomes. Finally, Matilda's father came. He grabbed the girl into a massive hug and spun her around the room to everyone's delight.

"Uh, hello, everyone." Mark said, still standing in the doorway.

"Close the door, boy, before you freeze the house!" Matilda's father said looking over at the man before turning back to his daughter. "Happy Christmas, darling!"

One of Matilda's aunts started poking at Matilda's side. "Someone's been enjoying Honeydukes a little too much, eh, sweetums?"

Matilda's mother looked over her daughter. "Yes, you are looking a little fuller. I was worried he wasn't feeding you enough…"

"She eats just fine, Helen." Mark said.

"Yes, mother, I'm fine." She said with a slight laugh. "In fact, I'm more than fine." She said, taking a step back from her family. They all focused their attention on her, surveying her actions. She continued backward and reached out for Mark's hand, which he took. "I suppose now is as good of a time as any." She looked to Mark then back to her family. "Everyone," She couldn't help but look at Mark again. "Mark and I are going to have a baby."

There was a moment of silence before everyone erupted in excitement. The family reached forward and pulled Matilda into their midst for hugs, belly rubs, and kisses. Again, Mark was left by the door alone. As the older McGonagall watched the scene unfold, Mark merely walked over to the corner of the room and sat dejected onto an old stool.

The Headmistress pulled out of the memory with tears stinging her eyes. She missed the sweet face of her niece so much that it hurt. And the memory of her hypocritical actions hurt as well. She had spent her time in two wars to protect the Muggles, and yet, when it came to her own family, she rejected them. She had to take off her fogging glasses and laid them upon her desk. No matter what, she vowed to herself that she was going to be more support Aurora's decisions in life, whether she understood them or not.

The girl, seventeen years later from the pensive, stood in front of her mirror at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry brushing her long black hair. Satisfied, she laid the brush down on her dresser and picked up her lip gloss. She traced her lips carefully, giving them a beautiful shine.

"We've got to get going—that is, if we want breakfast before class." Ginny said to her roommates.

"Coming!" Hermione said, gathering the last of her supplies into her bag.

Aurora laid down the lip gloss and reached for a small bottle of perfume. It was cold to the touch—like ice. She gave herself a small spritz then set the bottle down. She quickly headed for the door, grabbing her bag along the way, and exited with the other 7th year girls from the dormitory.

At the same time, the 7th year boys came barreling down from their dormitory. It made for crowded quarters down the stairs, through the common room with other Gryffindors, and down the winding staircases towards the Great Hall. By the time they reached the entrance hall, everyone else was trying to get into the Great Hall for breakfast too.

"If you wouldn't have decided to experiment with that ridiculous eye shadow spell this morning, we wouldn't be late!" One Ravenclaw girl hissed to another. "At least you don't have to go all day looking like this!" The girl with whom she was taking turned towards the Gryffindors, which they all flinched at the sight of what looked like a double-black eye encounter.

Avalon Stratford found himself a bit preoccupied with thoughts rather than to be irritated with the large crowd. Sometimes thinking about an idea filled his head and imagination for hours, making it difficult to notice the little inconveniences in life such as waiting in lines. As he pondered upon the theories of transfiguration, a pleasant scent tickled his nose and danced around his mind. He took in deep breaths of the delightful scent and looked around for its source. In such close quarters with students pressing all around, it wasn't too difficult to find. He looked up into her face.

She noticed him looking at her. Aurora reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Yes?" She asked, a little annoyed.

"Uh," He realized just how dumb he probably looked at that moment. "I smell something."

She looked rather offended.

"Something nice!" He added quickly. "Like a sweet smell, but also it reminds me of a cold winter's day." He looked a little confused.

"It's my perfume then." She said, formally. "Cherry Frost."

"Oh," He said. "Smells nice."

She wasn't paying attention anymore.

The bottlenecked crowd finally loosened up and the students were able to get to their respective tables to have breakfast. Professor Pascal was moving up and down the table passing out parchments to students. He finally came up to the seventh years.

"Has anyone lost their permission forms to go to Hogsmeade? I have extras here." The students answered no and he continued on, bumping into a Hufflepuff on his way to breakfast."

"Sorry about that, Mr. Whitby." The Professor said with a smile. Kevin Whitby nodded with a smile as the Professor left and then sighed.

"It's really a shame," Kevin said.

"What's a shame?" Ginny spoke up from the Gryffindor table.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts—it's cursed. He probably won't make it throughout the year. Poor soul. I liked him though."

"You're talking as if he's ready dead!" Hermione spoke up. "And besides, the curse on that job is broken."

"As far as you know," Kevin said matter of factly. "Explain to me why McGonagall had such a time getting someone to even take the job?"

"Because nobody wanted to teach a git like you!" Ritchie Cootie spoke up. "Now leave our House Professor alone! Or I'll curse you and all your descendants."

"That's if you don't die first!" Jimmy Peakes added.

Kevin closed his mouth and continued forward.

"That's about the third time this week I've heard that." Dean Thomas spoke up. "I don't see why anybody thinks Professor Pascal's going to die."

"I'm going to die?" The Professor questioned with his thick accent from behind.

"Professor!" Dean spun around. "No, I didn't mean…"

The wiry man burst out into hearty laughter at the sight of Dean's frightened face. "I may have an eye missing, but I haven't died yet with all the hazardous things I've done."

"But people think your job is cursed, Professor. Doesn't it bother you that people think you're going to die?"

"I am going to die, Dean. In fact, statistics say that 100 out of 100 people will die within their lifetime."

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle which eased the tension.

The Professor looked over all of them. "I take risk seriously, but not at the expensive of living." He paused for a moment. "My wife used to always say to me, "Joie de vivre…"

"The joy of living," Hermione translated.

The Professor nodded.

"Was she French?" Ginny asked.

He nodded. "Yes, born and raised." He looked towards the staff table. "Anyway, I must be going. See you all in class."

Ginny sighed deeply.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"He still loves her."

"Who?" Jimmy Peakes asked.

"His wife," Aurora supplied, rolling her eyes. "Boys!"

"Oh," Jimmy and Ritchie uttered together, starting to understand the situation.

"How long do you think she's been gone?" Jimmy then asked.

"Remember in class what he said?" Hermione spoke up.

Avalon nodded. "Since the first war. Almost twenty years."

The conversation was limited the rest of breakfast.

That afternoon, the seventh years headed down to the dungeons for a double helping of Potions class. In the past, this would have been the equivalent of being hanged, drawn and quartered for high treason—that is, having double potions with Professor Snape. These days, however, things ran a little differently with Professor Slughorn. He wasn't a bad teacher, sometimes perhaps a little longwinded with his stories of famous people, and of course, there was his blatant favoritism towards certain students—but other than that—he was alright. It was much better than having your guts hated.

At least, Ginny thought that feeling was gone until she nearly ran into the new teaching assistant for Slughorn, Miranda Mirkwood. As the seventh years headed through the dungeon corridors, they almost ended up plowing Professor Mirkwood over, and she happened to be carrying potions.

The pale and thinly woman took in a deep breath and surveyed the students before her with a large scowl on her face. Those dark eyes pierced through the student before her, making them squirm uncomfortably.

"Sorry, Professor," Ginny uttered. "I guess we came around the corner too quickly."

Professor Mirkwood only grunted before continuing on with her mission.

"She's kind of scary." Aurora said.

"Yeah," A Hufflepuff, James Tuckett , uttered in complete agreement. "I still haven't gotten used to her yet."

"At least she knows what she's talking about," Orla Quirke, a Ravenclaw, said to with which Hermione wholeheartedly agreed.

"Scary or not, we better get in there or we'll be late." Ginny said as they entered into the specific room set up for potions.

On double Potion days, the class usually brewed a certain potion during the first hour and worked on their essay reports during the second. Today they had brewed the Volubilis Potion with little to no problems, except for a few voice changes for those who chose to sample. Between the class periods, the students put away their brewing materials and began to start their essays about today's lesson and potion.

Thinking it would be funny, a Slytherin suck out his foot while a Ravenclaw passed by. The boy fell forward and flung his cauldron forward. The empty cauldron crashed into the back table, breaking a few beakers and vitals and causing general chaos.

"Are you alright," Many of the students said at the same time.

Professor Slughorn barreled through the crowd, pushing his big belly forward. "What's happened here? What's all the commotion? Mr. Porter, are you alright?"

The Ravenclaw, Alex Porter, boy stood up and brushed off his robes. "I'm alright, Professor, I just…tripped." He caught a look from a couple of mocking Slytherins.

Professor Slughorn observed the messed up counter. "Well, quite fortunate. Only a couple of empty beakers," He looked to a Hufflepuff girl. "Miss Zeller, would you clean this up while I got fetch some new beakers?"

The girl nodded, giving a flick of her wand. "Reparo!" For the books, she placed them back by hand, careful to make sure not to bump the potions that were on the burners. One satisfied, she returned to her seat. However, one of the simmering potions had its lid askew.

The class was quiet and settled down once again to being work on their essays. Avalon had already started his essay and was past the introductory paragraph. The gears in his mind started to turn furiously as he wrote about the potion he brewed today. The other boys at his table noted his work ethic.

She was feeling a bit rushed and disheveled today, but as she took a deep breath in, she felt much more relaxed. It was curious. Instead of the normal musty smell of the dungeon, Hermione could smell the faintest scent of new parchment. Perhaps it was the parchment she was writing her essay upon, but it didn't seem that new. Then, for some reason, she started to remember a common image during the summer time—her father cutting grass at home. He always had trouble with their old lawn mower and many humorous events ensued because of it. Next, she thought she smelled something else. She blushed deeply. She however shook her foggy head and went back to work.

Ginny was starting at her textbook, looking frustrated, as she pondered over her assignment. However, her face relaxed greatly, almost taking upon a dreamy look. She found herself hungry as images of some of her mother's cooking came to mind. It seemed so real that she swore she could smell it. Next, for some reason, she thought of the wildflowers that grew near the burrow. She always loved lying in the tall grass on that hillside and smelling the pretty scent of those flowers. Most unrelatedly, she thought of a memory of one Christmas many years ago. Harry Potter sat in the living room at the Burrow by the fireplace. Everyone was talking wildly and enjoying each other's company. She sat quietly on the couch watching everyone else. As she gazed across the room, Harry met eyes with her and offered a warm smile. She couldn't help but be bashful around him, but she managed to smile back. The smell of fresh burning wood seemed to cancel out the musty smell of the dungeon. Oh, that's right. She was supposed to be working on an essay. Ginny cleared her thoughts and went back to work.

Aurora was scribbling away furiously on her parchment when memories started to flood her mind—not a particular memory, but many. Her father was a photographer and artist. Often, their house smelled of art supplies and materials. A small smile came to her face as she thought of her father. Even though the Wizarding community could not understand his art—his still photographs and un-magical materials—she loved his art. He was truly talented, and he did it all without magic. Oddly, another thought came to her mind. Even though it was a bright and sunny day today, she loved the smell of a cool fresh rain coming from a thunderstorm. It was something both her and her mother enjoyed. They would crawl up onto the roof of their house and watch the storms approach. Sometimes her dad would join them, but often, he did not, knowing it was the best time for mother and daughter to bond. Images of something else started to come to her mind, but immediately, she shut them down. She forced herself back to work.

Avalon continued to work at a fast pace. For a few minutes, he relentlessly described his experiences with brewing the Volubilis Potion, but as he was about to reach down into his bag for a book, a curious scent filled his nostrils. As a child, he remembered visiting the Great Library of Alexandria in Egypt (currently believed to be destroyed according to the Muggle population). The library was filled with ancient tomes from all over the world. He remembered the scent of the ancient parchment, papyrus, and leather-bound books. A small smile then came to his face as another euphoria washed over him—the scent of fresh, cool mountain air made him feel as though he were riding his broomstick high in the clouds without a care in the world. He then started to smell something else, something fruit like.

"Hermione," Ginny whispered. "I thought it turned back to red after green, but everyone else has been saying pink. What do you think went wrong with mine?"

"Probably not enough honeywater," Hermione said.

"That or you had your burner too hot," Aurora whispered. "Likely, the honeywater though."

Hermione nodded in agreement.

Ginny looked back at the directions. "I thought I put enough in,"

A feverish tingling came over him, his thoughts were distracted. He felt anxious and sweaty. He kept trying to work on his essay but the longer that time passed, the less he cared about it. He started mumbling incoherent things to himself while fidgeting in his chair.

"Dude, you alright?" Steward Ackerley, a Ravenclaw asked.

"Yeah, you don't look so good," Alex Porter, the boy who tripped, said, surveying Avalon. "Maybe you should go to the nurse."

Hermione looked up, across her table.

"I can't stand it anymore!" Avalon threw down his quill.

"Uh,stand what?" The Ravenclaw boys asked.

He looked at them, fiercely impassioned. "Her fair complexion…beautiful gorgeous eyes…long and shin black hair…" Then a dreamy look washed over his face, "so sweet and yet so cold…like a winter's day."

Aurora, who was back to back with Avalon, found herself shooting straight up in her seat with her eyes bulging. Hermione and Ginny looked completely dumbfounded.

"She's everything I want!" Avalon exclaimed louder so that the whole class was disrupted by now. He shot up out of his seat.

"Mr. Stratford, what is the matter with you?" Professor Slughorn called from his desk.

"I'm in love!" Avalon exclaimed with his arm wide open. "I'm in love! I'm in love! I'm in love!" He chorused to his classmates to which they began to laugh.

"What the blazes?" Professor Slughorn stood up from his seat.

Things got even stranger. While Avalon hugged himself and twirled around the room singing, "I'm in love," the door flew open and Professor Mirkwood stepped inside holding her potions from earlier. Once Avalon caught sight of her, he ran over to her, almost knocking a Slytherin girl over, and kneeled before her. "Miranda Mirkwood, I love you. Will you marry me?"

The room was dead silent. Avalon looked at her hopefully, clasping his two hands together, waiting for an answer. Professor Mirkwood stood stern faced looking down at the boy in front of her.

"Please?" He asked with a cute smile.

She laughed. And it wasn't just a small one either. Nobody in a million years would have guessed that Miranda Mirkwood had the capability of laughing, but here she was, cackling until her sides were about to explode. Even though her laughter was exactly like that of the classic Muggle portrayal of a cackling witch, she still clearly found it humorous to no end. The other students started laughing too.

Avalon rose to his feet, looking angrily at everyone. "What's so funny? Huh? Huh?" He continued to look at all of them so seriously which made them laugh even more. "I love her! And if being in love makes you a fool then I guess I'm the biggest one of the all!"

Avalon turned to Miranda. "How about it, darling? Will you marry me?" He closed his eyes and lunged forward to kiss her cheek.

"There will be no public displays of affection in my classroom, Mr. Stratford," Professor Slughorn said, catching the collar of Avalon's robes and yanking him back.

"Professor, what happened to him?" A concerned student asked.

"I think I know the answer to that," Professor Mirkwood spoke up.

"Of course you do!" Avalon said. "You're so smart, darling,"

The female Professor's cool demeanor was back to normal. She ignored Avalon's advances and turned her attention to the students and Professor Slughorn. "I brewed up a sample of Amortentia for a potions survey in fifth year classes."

"So someone gave him your potion?" A student asked.

Professor Mirkwood walked over to the counters with the burners and looked at the crooked lid. She then pulled the lid. A swirling potion with a distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen and steam arose in spirals. "No, the cauldron is full. It doesn't look like anyone helped themselves to a draft of it." She looked at the euphoric boy, still wearing her usual scowl, I better go and brew the antidote.

"A good idea." Professor Slughorn said.

As Professor Mirkwood left, Avalon tried to reach out of her. "Don't go! I love you!"

Professor Slughorn looked around at his students, but still tugging at Avalon's collar to keep him away from Professor Mirkwood. "For 50 house points, can anyone tell me what is happening to Mr. Stratford.

Clearly it was a difficult question. First of all, Slughorn had offered 50 house points for its answer, and secondly, Hermione Granger's hand did not immediately shoot up in the air. He waited however as the students thought it through.

"Maybe someone only gave him a little bit of potion. Not enough to notice it was gone." Someone spoke up.

Avalon started giggling madly and dancing in place. That answer clearly was not correct. Hermione slowly raised her hand.

"Ah, yes, Miss Granger." Slughorn looked to her.

"I believe I remember reading somewhere once—although it was a very long time ago—that some people are more sensitive to the certain effects of potions than others."

Slughorn nodded with a smile. "Go on, Miss Granger."

"In the case with Amortentia, I seem to remember that even the slightest smell of it could cause euphoria in certain individuals, although the case is rare."

"Very good, Miss Granger! 50 points to Gryffindor!" Slughorn looked at his students. "Miss Granger is correct. What we have here is someone with a rare ultra-sensitive reaction to Amortentia. Unfortunately for Mr. Stratford, even the slightest scent may induce—well…" He looked over at the boy behaving rather strangely. "It is likely that Mr. Stratford would be affected by other forms of love potion as well seeing that their key ingredient is…" He looked to the class.

"Ashwinder eggs," Hermione said. "Although rose thorns, peppermint and Moonstone are common ingredients also."

Slughorn nodded. "Precisely."

"Why are some people sensitive and others are not?" A student asked.

Slughorn shrugged his shoulders. "Some have suggested that just as the attractiveness of the giver's looks is important in determining…"

"You know who's attractive?" Avalon interrupted. "Miranda Mirkwood!"

Slughorn spoke up, "In determining the lasting quality of a love potion that perhaps the attractiveness of the receiver plays a part. Others suggest it is merely an allergy to a certain property in the potion. Cases such as these…" He had to give another tug on Avalon's collar. "…are really quiet rare. Not enough study has been done."

It only took a couple of minutes for Professor Mirkwood to come back with the antidote. Avalon's eyes lit up. "I knew you'd come back! Not even fate could keep us apart!"

Professor Mirkwood handed Slughorn the vital then walked away. Avalon frowned. "Darling, I don't understand! Where are you going?"

"Don't worry about her, Mr. Stratford." Slughorn said.

"How can I not?" Avalon really started to look worried. "What if something happens to her? How would I feel about myself then?" He started to tear up.

Slughorn sighed. "Oh, dear." He looked to a Slytherin student. "Mr. Hensen, would you take Mr. Stratford out into the hallway and administer the antidote?"

The student nodded and took the vital.

Slughorn gave one last look at Avalon. "Make sure he drinks it all—every last drop."

The student nodded and grasped a hold of Avalon's arm.

"What are you doing?" Avalon looked angry. "Nobody touches me but Miranda Mirkwood!"

"Mr. Hensen is going to take you to Miss Mirkwood," Slughorn assured Avalon. "But first you need to drink a special potion that Mr. Hensen has for you. It'll calm your nerves. You don't want to be all nervous and flustered when you see her again, do you?"

Avalon shook his head vigorously. "You're right. I don't."

"Come on then," The student guided Avalon out into the hallway. Once they left small giggles started to break out again.

"Well, that was most interesting." Slughorn said with an exasperated sigh. "There's a reason why they call it the world's most dangerous potion." He walked back over to his desk. "I knew I should have stayed in retirement," he said, mumbling to himself.

The students stood motionless for a few moments, giggling and whispering. Hermione stood out of her seat looking towards the door to the hallway. She felt sorry for Avalon, and yet, couldn't help think that this was sort of funny. She glanced over at Ginny who seemed to be having the same thought, but as she glanced over at Aurora, she looked rather unhappy sitting in her seat away from the crowd.

"AWE, BLOODY HELL!" Avalon yelled angrily, clearly not in love anymore, from the hallway. It was then that whispers and giggles became uncontrollable fits of laughter within the dungeon.

It was not a fun day for Avalon Stratford after potions class. Besides having a throbbing headache, everywhere he went, people teased him relentlessly for declaring his love to the world's crankiest professor. Students thought they were clever when they'd say things like, "Should I expect my invitation to the wedding by owl?" or "Are you two registered at Magical Menagerie yet?" but Avalon ended up hearing those jokes at least twenty times before dinner.

All of his classes were finished for the day so he headed in the direction of the Great Hall, but reaching the Entrance Hall and finding a whole crowd of students waiting for dinner made him think twice.

"Oh, look its Big Head Boy," a student piped up.

Avalon spun around, clearly not amused. Behind him were some of the same Slytherin students he yelled at a couple of days ago for being too close to the Forbidden Forest. "You have no business with me. Just get going," Avalon tried to say without blowing his lid.

"Why, you waiting for Professor Mirkwood," Spyros Catassus smirked.

Avalon flushed bright red. "You do realize that I can take house points from you, don't you?"

"For doing what?" Graham Pitchard spoke up. "We're not doing anything wrong!"

Avalon glanced up as Ginny, Hermione, Aurora, Jimmy Peakes, Ritchie Cootie, and Dean Thomas came down the stairs. Flustered, angry, and red in the face was not how he wanted his friends to see him.

Spyros laughed as he watched Avalon become more flustered. "Looks like you're going to freak out again."

Avalon gritted his teeth and charged up the stairs. His fellow Gryffindors parted quickly to let him through.

"Hey, man, where you going?" Jimmy called to Avalon.

"I have a headache!" Avalon snapped as he stormed upstairs.

"Or he's got a date with Mirkwood!" The Slytherins started making cat-calls and kissing noises.

"Cut it out, right now!" Hermione stepped forward, stamping her foot.

The Slytherins only laughed as she threatened them. "Jealous, Big Head Girl? Jealous that you and Big Head Boy aren't an item?" One of the boys spoke up.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I've got better things to worry about that you lot." She continued down the stairs.

Aurora looked into the crowd of Slytherin boys. Cain was with them, but he seemed to be really interested in his feet at the moment.

"Oh that's right," Spyros said with a smirk. His voice dripped with cruelty more than the others. "A pureblood like Big Head would never dare touch a filthy Muggle-born like…"

Spyros' voice started belching like a frog. Aurora stood with her wand pointing toward her victim and a large smirk upon her face. When she took a step forward however, the smirk washed away. "If I ever hear you insulting Muggle-borns again..."

"Aurora," Hermione put her hand over Aurora's wand hand and lowed it gently. "It's alright."

Aurora regained her composure. "I'm sorry,"

Spyros only stared her down furiously, but as he tried to retort something angrily, all that came out was the sound of a large bull frog. He stormed off and his followers quickly behind him.

"That was awesome!" Ritchie Cootie laughed.

Ginny nodded fervently. "Amazing reflexes—like a cat! Can't wait until our first Quidditch game! See if they can get the quaffle through your hoops!"

Hermione sighed as they continued downstairs. "You know, I really should take away house points for that action."

"Oh, come on, Hermione! You wouldn't!" Jimmy Peakes exclaimed. "She was defending you, wasn't she?"

Hermione sighed again, looking at Aurora. "Next time, I'll have to. I can't play favorites."

Aurora nodded. "I understand."

"Thank you though," She gave a small smile with Aurora returned.

They entered into the Great Hall. "Look, its Harry and Ron!" Ritchie exclaimed. The group walked up to them and greeted the two former students.

"See you both were conveniently around for dinner again," Ginny said, taking a place at the table.

"We're working hard to solve this crime," Ron said.

"And what have you found?" Ginny asked.

"Absolutely nothing," He said, smiling as Hermione tackled into him. He threw his arm around her while continuing to talk to his sister. "I guess it was just a stupid stunt."

The rest of them sat down as food started appearing on the table. Ginny started putting mashed potatoes on her plate. "You really think we're not going to see anything else then?"

Harry pondered for a moment. "I don't know. It would seem that way, but something just doesn't settle with me right."

"Like what?" Hermione asked.

"The other day, Avalon and I were walking away from the Quidditch fields when we saw a bunch of Slytherins hanging around the Forbidden Forest." He looked over at Ron as he told this story since he hadn't even told Ron about it yet.

"So?" Ron shrugged. "Fred and George used to sneak off into the forest all the time."

"That's because they're idiots!" Ginny said. "Nobody in their right mind would do that."

Harry, Hermione, and Ron exchanged glances with one another.

"Speaking of Mr. Popularity, where is he tonight?" Ron looked around. "Not hearing interviews, camera flashes, or girls screaming."

"Ron, you really shouldn't call him that. He's just like one of us." Hermione looked saddened. "Besides, he had a really rough day today."

Ron's nose wrinkled.

"What happened to him?" Harry asked, looking mildly concerned. "Anything suspicious?"

"No," Ginny rolled her eyes at Harry's seriousness. "Apparently he has a sensitivity to love potion. A few sniffs and he went nuts today."

Harry raised his eyebrow, remember how Ron acted over tasting love potion. "Who gave it to him?"

"Nobody," Ginny said. "He just had to smell it. Unfortunately, he wound up falling in love with Professor Mirkwood since she brewed it."

Harry and Ron immediately started laughing hysterically.

"Stop it!" Hermione chided. "How would you like it if it was you?"

"It was me, remember?" Ron said. "But that wasn't funny," He stopped laughing once he thought of himself going gaga over Romilda Vane.

"So it's only funny when it's not you?" Hermione looked angry.

"Uh, yeah?" Ron said.

Hermione slapped her boyfriend upside the head and crossed her arms over her chest. "I for one do not think it's funny. He's probably hiding in Gryffindor Tower right now because of what happened."

"So?" Harry said. "Hiding isn't going to help."

"Well, what would you do?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I guess when you have people trying to kill you all the time some things become a little irrelevant."

Hermione sighed. "Boys are so insensitive. You never think about how things make people feel." She sat up straight, resolved. "I'll just have to take him some dinner when we go up to the dormitory tonight since nobody else seems to care."

Ron scowled as he looked down to his shepherd's pie on his plate.

"You didn't get a vat of love potion did you?" Harry looked at Aurora, who was picking at food on her plate with her fork but not really eating.

It took her a moment to notice that someone was talking to her. "Huh? Me?"

"What's the matter?" Ginny asked. "You looked distracted,"

"Nothing. I'm fine." She put on a smile. "Just not hungry."

Everyone continued talking through dinner.