Chapter Sixty

Chocolate Cake and Best Friend Bracelets

Romilda:

Gryffindor Tower is unusually quiet for a friday night. Romilda sits in an armchair in the corner of the room the other fifth years had claimed, and studies her potions book, her fingers trailing over the glossary list as she searches for just the right potion to suit her next project. That is, until the sound of her name being raucously called pulls her from her task.

'Romilda!' squeals Ginny Weasley, bounding over to her, her face bright with a wide-eyed smile that Romilda has never in her five years of sharing a dorm with the girl seen directed at her before.

'Uh, hi,' says Romilda.

Ginny reaches out and grasps her hand. 'Romilda, Milly…ohh, Milly, that's so cute, can I call you Milly?'

Romilda blinks, her mouth dropping open. 'Milly?' she manages.

'Milly and Ginny,' says Ginny, her eyes going faraway, even as she squeezes Romilda's hand. 'Oh that has a nice ring to it, don't you think?'

A snort sounds from behind her. 'Milly?' asks Ron, rolling his eyes as he all but shoves his sister out of the way. 'Romilda is far to pretty a name for you to just butcher like that Gin. How about you go back to your little camera friends and leave the grown ups to talk.'

'Grown ups?' Ginny asks, eyebrows shooting up. 'You're not serious.'

A grin stretches across her face, and she shoots Romilda the kind of expression that two close friends might share…only, Romilda and Ginny weren't friends.

'Ron, if you're a grown up, then I'm a blast-ended skrewt. Now, run along. Milly and I have plans to make…ohhh, we should make best friend bracelets!'

'Best friend—?'

'That sounds like the dumbest thing ever,' says Ron, rolling his eyes at his sister. 'Why would she want to make dumb bracelets with you, when she can come upstairs with me and have cake and chocolate.' He turns to Romilda expectantly, his gaze heavy and warm, and beams at her.

'You want to share your birthday cake with me?' Romilda asks, glancing back and forth between them.

The siblings stare back at her, each eager and expectant. Annoyance curls along Romilda's spine. Ron Weasley has never exchanged two words with Romilda and Ginny? Well, Ginny has shared a dorm with her for five years and has never had a nice thing to say to her, let alone asked her to make bracelets together.

'What is this?' she asks, a frown wrinkling her brow. 'Are you making fun of me?'

'Making fun of you?' asks Ron, aghast. He drops down beside her chair and grasps her hand. 'Never.'

'Of course not,' says Ginny, frowning. 'Why would I make fun of my best friend?'

'Best friend?' asks Romilda. She shoves to her feet. 'We are not best friends.'

'But…of course we are,' says Ginny, her eyes going wide, her face paling.

Romilda glowers at her. Thoroughly annoyed by whatever joke the two siblings are trying to play on her she turns to storm away, only to come almost nose to nose with Harry.

'Hey Romilda,' he says in that soft, shy voice of his.

Her breath catches and for the barest moment her mind goes blank. She forgets her irritation. She forgets Ron and Ginny teasing her. She stares into those vivd green eyes, gazes at the soft curve of his lips, is overwhelmed by the smell of fresh earth and coffee and treacle.

'Hi,' she says, breathless.

His smile quirks up and her knees go weak. 'I, uh, I was wondering if we could go for a walk out—'

'Oi!'

Harry is barged aside as Ron shoves him, his face blossoming in furious red. 'That's my girl you're asking out there, Harry!'

Harry staggers back. He shakes himself off, straightening to glare back at his best friend.

'You're girl?' asks Harry, his voice hardening. 'I'm sorry but how is she you're girl?'

'Because I was just about to ask her out!'

'Well, too bad, I guess I beat you to it,' says Harry flippantly.

'Fuck off! She's mine and you know it! You only want to ask her out because I do. You…you're trying to steal her from me! You're just jealous!'

'Jealous? Of you? I don't think so.'

'She's going out with me.'

'She is not!'

A sigh beside her breaks Romilda from her stunned surprise. 'Boys are such idiots,' says Ginny, shaking her head as she gazes at the two now-shouting boys. She turns to Romilda and smiles. 'Hey, let's go to the kitchen and get hot-chocolates. I bet we could—'

Hands wrap around Romilda's shoulders, yanking her forward into that overpowering smell of grass, coffee and treacle. Lips press firm against her's, hot and almost rough with insistence.

At first, she's so startled she's not sure what to do.

Harry Potter is kissing her.

Harry Potter is kissing her!

Harry Potter is kissing her and it's not at all what she expected.

He slides his fingers into her hair, his fingers tugging on the strands as they get tangles in the curls. She winces, distracted from the kiss that she's longed to have for so long. A kiss that tastes too bitter. His breathe smells like coffee, and yet he tastes sweet, like chocolate and strawberries, and—like that—something clicks in her brain.

Chocolates.

Before she can do anything else, before she can decide whether to deepen the kiss, or untangle his hands, or figure out if she's enjoying this at all, it's all yanked away.

Her eyes fly open just in time to see Ron slam his fist into Harry's face.

They both go tumbling, crashing into a table and sending students scattering and shrieking.

'Look out!' Ginny pulls Romilda back out of the way of the two wrestling boys. 'Merlin, can't you two get a grip! You almost hurt Romilda! What the hell is wrong with you? And you claim to love her?'

Romilda turns sharply to Ginny. 'Love?'

Ginny glances at her. 'Of course,' she says. 'Why wouldn't they love you? You're amazing. Not that they're good enough for you. I mean, any idiots who roll around on the floor like animals—' she says this bit in the direction of the still fighting boys, raising her voice at them but neither of them even pause in their fight to acknowledge her.

Ginny shakes her head. 'Honestly,' she says, and flicks her hair over her shoulder. 'They aren't good enough for you.'

'But—'

Harry rolls away, avoiding a punch to the head from Ron, before scrabbling to his feet and pulling out his wand. He swipes blood from his nose, and levels Ron with his wand.

Ron glowers back at him and, without even trying to get up, pulls out his own wand. 'She's mine,' Ron declares. 'I'm in love with her.'

'The hell you are,' Harry growls, and raises his wand.

A bang echoes through the room and both wands go flying out of Harry and Ron's hands. Everyone in the room goes still, including the two fighting boys, who turn to stare at whoever has intervened.

Romilda turns, half expecting to find Professor McGonagall glaring at them all. The reality is much worse.

Hermione Granger stands in the doorway to the common room, her face red with outrage, her wand in one hand, Ron and Harry's in the other. She looks around at them all, his gaze dark and furious/

'What the hell is going on in here?'


Hermione:

A freshly healed Ron falls into bed, a stupid smirk plastered over his face as he snuggles into a pillow. 'Hm,' he mutters. 'She always smells so nice.'

Hermione rolls her eyes, trying and failing to resist the urge to glare at him.

'Yeah,' says Harry dazedly, sitting down heavily on the next bed over.

Ginny, who is already sitting on the bed, grins and reaches out for him, drawing him back against the headboard with her, looping an arm around his shoulders. 'Who?' she asks, running a hand through Harry's hair (rather like one would bet a dog) as he flops back next to her.

'Uh, what?' asks Ron, leaning up on his pillow to frown over at them, confusion on his face.

Ginny laughs and rolls her eyes. 'You said, "she always smells so nice" but you didn't say who? You mean Romilda? Or Lavender?'

Ron wrinkles his nose. 'What?' he asks again, and his frown increases. 'Oh no, not them. Hermione. She always smells so nice. Like…like warm hugs and hot chocolate and you know what I mean?'

Heat floods through Hermione, and she stiffens, her mouth dropping open as she stares at him. After all, doesn't he realise that she's standing right there at the ends of their beds?

Ginny giggles, glancing sideways at Hermione. 'No,' she says, winking at Hermione. 'I don't know sorry.'

'I do,' Harry says, slouching down on the bed as his eyes droop sleepily. 'Draco always smelt really good. Like honey and lemons and hazelnut coffee.'

Ron leans up on his pillow again. 'Mate, I'm gonna be honest, that doesn't sound that great.'

'It was the best,' says Harry, leaning his head back and blinking up at the ceiling. 'I stole one of his shirts once, just too—' he interrupts himself with a yawn. '—just so I could feel close to him when I go to sleep. Like he was there with me. Protecting me…' his voice trails off and after a moment, his eyes drift shut. He takes a deep breath and sighs. 'I miss him.'

Ginny, who has been running her had through his hair all this time, gives him a sad smile. 'Go to sleep, Harry,' she says. 'You're safe here. We'll watch you until Draco comes back.'

'Mm,' Harry murmurs, turning his head and dropping off to sleep.

Ron, of course, is already snoring.

'Alright Miss Weasley,' says Madam Pomfrey stalking back out from her offices, 'into your own bed now.'

Ginny pouts, slouching down more firmly in the bed next to Harry. 'But I'm not tired,' she objects. 'And he still needs me.'

'You might not feel tired now, but you will. Mr Potter will be fine without you to…pat his hair,' says the woman dryly, eyeing Ginny's hand.

'But he's sad,' Ginny mutters. 'You need your friends when you're sad. To hold your heart together so you don't break. I don't want him to break. He's my best friend.'

Madam Pomfrey steps over to the bed, placing a hand on Ginny's shoulder. 'I won't let him break,' she says softly.

Ginny looks up at her, chewing on the inside of her mouth. 'Draco was good for him, wasn't he? Harry doesn't realise it yet, but you see it too, don't you? Harry needs him doesn't he?'

'Perhaps,' says Madam Pomfrey, guiding Ginny up and over to the next bed. 'Perhaps.'

Hermione watches as Ginny climbs into bed, already starting to yawn.

'Don't worry, Miss Granger,' says Madam Pomfrey, tucking Ginny in with expert hands. 'They'll be asleep before long, and by the time they wake the potion will have worn off.'

'They aren't talking about Romilda anymore,' says Hermione, frowning as Ginny rolls over to stare over at Harry in the next bed (completely oblivious to everyone else in the room).

'No,' says Madam Pomfrey, straightening up and glancing across at the boys. 'As the potion wears off, the first thing to go is the hold of the potion maker. Some of the impulses and compulsions may remain, as you can see.'

Hermione crosses her arms over her chest, looking over at Harry, at Ginny and back again, worrying at her lip with her teeth as she tried to puzzle something out. 'There's something that's been bothering me.'

'Oh?'

'Harry and Ron were affected by the love potion. But Ginny…she was different. She wanted to be best friends. Did she eat something different?'

'I doubt it,' says Madam Pomfrey. 'I imagine it was just an issue of compatibility.'

'Compatibility?'

'A love potion cannot change the sexuality of it's consumer. It can, of course, still cause an obsessive behaviour, such as Miss Weasley displayed, but not in a romantic maner.'

'Oh,' says Hermione, and her eyes widen. 'Oh. So everything they're saying now…they mean that?'

Madam Pomfrey glances sideways at her, a wry smile lifting the corner of her mouth. 'In a manner of speaking,' she says. 'Love potions are a compulsion, they remove inhibitions that the consumer would normally adhere to, allowing for the intense declarations of affection that love potions are renowned for. The loss of inhibition is the affect that tends to remain the longest. So that even when the impulse to love a particular person is gone, their own feelings of affection—whether romantic,' she gestures at Harry and Ron, 'or simply friendship,' she points at Ginny, 'are more pronounced. They may be acting unusually affectionate, yes, but this comes from a genuine emotion.'

Hermione finds herself blushing again. Her gaze strays over to Ron, still snuggled into his pillow, and warmth floods through her. 'Do you,' she hesitates, glancing over at Madam Pomfrey. 'Do you mind if I sit with them for a while?'

Madam Pomfrey offers her a brief smile and dips her head. 'They'll likely be asleep for the rest of the night, but you're welcome to sit with them until curfew if you wish.'

Hermione nods. 'Thank you,' she says, and moves to sit in the chair between Harry and Ron's beds. 'I can't believe they ate dosed chocolates. Honestly, how many times have I told you two to be careful…'

'Yes, well,' says Madam Pomfrey, shaking her head. 'You needn't worry about that. Miss Vane will be dealt with. Along with any other love potion chocolates lying around the castle.'

A small bur of satisfaction worms it's way along Hermione's spine. 'Good.'


A/N: Sorry it's so late! And I apologise, I have not edited this. I haven't even looked at it since I wrote it but I just wanted to get something posted. I hope you enjoy it anyway!