Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, etc. The best disclaimer I ever heard went something like, "Nothing in this belongs to me, but the blood, sweat, and tears."

OK, bare with me folks. I'm an independent Harry Potter fan, in that I've had little contact with other fans. So I'm not trying to break any rules, or bring up old debates or anything. I just had an idea for a story and wanted to write it. Wow, that sounds friendly. lol. Please r&r! :-)


Chapter 1: Asparagus and Liver Oil

It was a Sunday evening, and Ginny was hardly paying attention to the asparagus with a side of Liver Oil that lay in the middle of her plate. She was staring up at the ceiling of the great hall, which was showing the deepest red sunset she had ever seen.

Deep, like my love for you... she thought as she moved her gaze to the boy at the other end of the table. He had untidy dark hair, bright green eyes, and round glasses with tape round the band - Harry Potter.
She made a mental note to scribble down her sunset metaphor. All that year, she had been writing stories - stories about herself, stories about Hogwarts, and the people there. She had gotten the idea while listening to her mother's - Mrs. Weasley's - program on Wizarding Wireless Network one morning. The announcer had gone on about the monotony of every day life, until finally saying, "wouldn't it be nice to add a little spice to your life? Try our all new Spontaneity potion - for only three easy payments of 10 knuts each!"
Later that day she had been hurried up to her room to study for the coming year, but something about the announcer's voice stuck with her. Instead of taking notes on the differences between Warlocks and Wizards, she had scribbled, "What if" inside a badly-drawn Hogwarts shield. Then she had the urge to continue the sentence. The first thing that came to her mind was "What if Harry loved me?" But she pushed that from her mind right away. Who was she kidding? But... Fred sort of liked that Angelina girl, she'd thought. Before long, she had written a nice little story about the two of them. Quite a good story, she thought. But she burned it later that night, fearing Fred might find it.
As the summer went on she continued her written fantasies. The best ones she kept, and couldn't bear to throw in the flames. By the time school came about, she had abandoned the "common matches," as she thought of them, and went on to such curious romances as the one she wrote about Peeves and Alicia Spinnet.
But she had always put off the one story she truly wanted to write - the one about her and Harry Potter. She had finally resolved to write it, and had devoted her mind to its plot for the past three days, not wanting to ruin a thing.
Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted when Neville, a round faced boy a year older than her, came skidding up to the table, panting.
"Peeves - oil - slipped in the hall." he managed to get out. Ginny nodded sympathetically. Peeves the poltergeist had long been a thorn in the side of practically everyone at Hogwarts - except for the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin ghost, though nobody knew why.
Neville took a seat next to her, and grimaced at the food. "What is it?" he asked, prodding the long green vegetables. "Ugh, liver oil. My grandmother used to make me drink this stuff."
Ginny smiled as he picked up an asparagus and sniffed it. Ever since he had asked her to the Yule Ball last Christmas, they had become close friends. He pushed his plate to the center of the table, and took a piece of celery from the vegetable dish.
"Pass the carrots?" a feminine, slightly commanding voice said. Ginny turned to see Hermione Granger receive a bowl of carrot sticks, along with a grudging glare from a boy with bright red hair, much like Ginny's own. He was her brother, Ron, and hadn't been terribly friendly to Hermione this year. In fact, nobody had. They didn't hate her, but no one was very pleased with her "revolutionary ideas" for Hogwarts. Ginny had been in the train compartment with her, Ron, and Harry on the way to Hogwarts that August.
"You know, I did some reading over the summer." Hermione had begun.
"Uh oh," Ron had whispered. "There's always trouble when she starts off with that."
"I've found that the wizard longevity is much greater than that of muggles."
"Big shocker there. Look at Dumbledore, he's what 200?" Ron yawned.
Hermione ignored him. "I've also found that wizards consume more sweets than the average muggle... magical ones, of course, but unhealthy nonetheless." She saw the look Harry was giving her and continued, "My parents asked." Then she added for Ginny, "They're dentists."
"Well, just goes to show all that chocolate can do you some good," Ron said enthusiastically.
"Actually, no." Hermione rummaged through her bag to remove a handsome leather-bound book. The spine read, "Statistical Studies of Magical Britain: 1996-7."
"You see, I found that wizards and witches who don't eat sweets can live up to twice the normal expectancy."
Ron was gaping at the book. "You read that?"
Hermione shrugged. "Not all of it. Just a few sections."
Ron flipped through "a few sections" and shook his head, handing the book back to her. Hermione looked like she wanted to say more, but just then the candy cart came through, and the boys wouldn't hear another word of the consequences of "consuming extra carbohydrates."
None of them had thought much of it, until they arrived at Hogwarts that night. The train ride always made them especially hungry, and they looked forward to the opening feast.
By the time the Sorting Ceremony was over, they were positively drooling over the prospect of a meal. Harry sat, fork at ready. "I hope you all enjoy the feast this year," Dumbledore had said from his seat at the center of the staff table. "It should be especially - er - nutritious this year. The menu was recommended by a student and their parents as an experiment. Now, enjoy!"
But the burst of good smells they had been so accustomed to was not to be had - instead, mountains of steamed cabbage and pickled beets materialized before their eyes.
Many students recoiled in horror, and one looked quite sick. Harry, realizing he had speared a cauliflower and not a juicy piece of chicken, dropped his fork on the plate.
"What - happened?" he breathed.
Down the table, Fred and George were making faces as they held up the limp, smelly leaves of cabbage. But Ron was staring, awestruck at Hermione.
"You wouldn't," he mouthed. Hermione blushed, and tried to stomach her fried peas with a smile.
At first, nobody could believe this was their feast. They all thought there had been some terrible mistake. But as the teachers ate their food, some grimacing and gulping down excess amounts of drink, panic set it. Some outright refused to eat, while others claimed they weren't hungry. As the meals went on, however, the students got past their initial revulsion as hunger took over, and began to eat.
Even Fred and George couldn't sneak sweets from the kitchen. They reported loudly near Hermione that the house elves were upset because nobody liked their cooking anymore, but said they had strict orders to only cook health food.
To everyone's great relief, the Halloween feast was filled with all the usual sweets, and students stuffed themselves doubly so. Even Professor McGonagall could be seen forcing multiple Chocolate Frogs into her mouth.
It made the next meal all the worse, having eaten such a delicious feast and then returned to bland and bitter vegetables. While nobody knew for sure that Hermione had been the one to recommend the change in diet (Harry, Ron, and Ginny had all sworn themselves to secrecy), they all suspected her and it was not until past the new year that she could walk down the hallways without receiving many a nasty glance.

"Eurgh!" Neville coughed, and stuck out his tongue. Traces of Liver Oil could be seen dripping down it. "I'd forgotten how nasty that is - I imagine Peeve's oil would've tasted better!"
Neville tried to wipe the oil from his mouth by drinking his goblet of cider in one gulp, but judging by the look on his face the rest of that evening, the taste never quite went away.
The pack of Gryffindors finished eating, and headed off for the tower. As they passed the Slytherin table, however, Draco Malfoy tugged at Neville's sleeve.
Draco was about as nasty as Peeves, but while Peeves loved chaos, Draco seemed to thrive on torturing Harry and his friends in particular. It was well-known that Slytherin and Gryffindor were rival houses, and Harry and Draco illustrated this perfectly.
"Malfoy, what do you want?" Harry said, suddenly next to Neville.
Malfoy squinted up at him. "Who are you?" he said, trying to make his voice sound quivery. "Are you with this other boy here... the one they say is our son?"
Neville clenched his jaw so fast he bit his lip. He pulled out of Malfoy's grasp, and stepped back.
"Draco, don't talk about my parents..." he said through gritted, bloody teeth. Neville's parents had once had to face Voldemort, and had been tortured for information. While still living, they had been driven mad by the Cruciatus curse, a curse which caused nothing but pain. Neville only had the chance to visit them once a year, with his grandmother. When he did see them, they didn't even recognize him.
"Your parents?" Malfoy went on. "Come now, you're confusing me... OH!" he suddenly shrieked, though under his breath so the teachers couldn't hear. "The pain! They're doing it again! Oooh, ow!"
Neville took a step forward, opening his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
"Come on!" Hermione hissed, taking him by the hand and leading him away.
Harry was about to yell at Draco, but Ginny spoke up first.
"You're terrible!" she said a little too loudly, and a few of the teachers looked up. "You know that, don't you? The only reason you have friends is because... they're... they're terrible too!"
Crabbe and Goyle, who had been sniggering at Malfoy's act, were now glaring at her. Malfoy just yawned.
"Oh come now, I'm just trying to make him feel like family."
That did it for Ginny. Pursing her lips, she walked forward to punch him, slap him, anything to cause him pain... but she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and saw it was Harry.
Suddenly turning pink, she stopped dead in her tracks.
"Come on Ginny, let's not waste our time with them," he said coolly. But it wasn't just the threat of time wasted... Professors McGonagall and Snape were staring straight at them now, ready to break up a fight and hand out detentions.

* * *


"They really are awful," Ginny said as the two of them left the Great Hall.
Harry nodded. "What I wonder is, how do they know about Neville's parents? He hasn't exactly told anyone."
Ginny, who was still briskly walking off her anger, replied, "He overheard Neville and I talking about it. Since then they haven't left him alone."
When they reached to Fat Lady's portrait (the way into the Gryffindor tower), they came upon Hermione, who was talking to Neville.
"...and if they bother you again, just don't say anything. Ignore them. They'll get bored of it eventually and- oh, hi," she looked up when she saw the other two approaching. Neville was still looking quite disturbed. He muttered the password (Flemish Meatballs), and headed inside.
Hermione sighed, gave the other two a look meaning "don't talk to him about it," and followed.