Chapter Three: Speculations and Love Potions

Their keepers interrogated both young people when they returned home in the early hours of the morning.

"Where were you," Tom snapped, his back to her sitting in a chair. For the first time talking to Tom, Lucy faltered and she didn't know why.

"I… I was working my mission," she told him, truthfully.

"Mission?" Lucy could hear the mock in Tom's voice as he turned to her. "Bah! You were with a boy!"

"Geoffrey Dumbledore, Tom!" Lucy cried defensively. "It was Geoffrey Dumbledore. I was only doing what you told me to do!" Tom raised an eyebrow at her suspiciously.

"Are you falling in… Falling in love with this… this boy?!" he spat out the words 'love' and 'boy' with disgust, as if he had never experienced either and never wished to experience them. Lucy almost felt like defending Geoff and pointing out to Tom that Geoffrey was older than Tom was, but she bit her tongue.

"No," she said, calmly, her eyes vacant of any emotion that would suggest otherwise. "He is merely our bait." Tom smiled a crooked smile and for the first time in her life, Lucy realized she had never seen the young man smile a natural smile.

"Good," he said, satisfied. "Because if I see one ounce of actual love for that boy in your eyes, I swear you will not know the meaning of that word ever again." Lucy smiled one of her own twisted smiles.

"But Lord Voldemort," she said guilefully. "You won't see anything but love in my eyes for that man…" At the look on her master's face, her smile disappeared and she said quickly and seriously, "That's how good I am, Master, and you know it." Appeased, the beast withdrew and nodded slowly.

"Yes," he said with a look in his eye Lucy didn't like. "I do."

"Geoffrey, can I speak with you," Geoffrey poked his head into his uncle's office, his glasses askew and pretended to be tired.

"Yes, Professor?" he said in a fake sleepy voice Albus Dumbledore could see straight through.

"Where were you tonight?"

"Asleep, uncle!" Geoffrey sounded appalled that his uncle would think otherwise. Albus cringed at the sound of the word 'uncle' and Geoffrey knew he didn't like it much when he called him that. But it just made Geoffrey's blood boil. Why would Albus be ashamed of him? Sure, his inventions weren't exactly successful, nor was anything else in his life for that matter, but he was a polite and kind boy! At least he tried to be. Why did he deny their kinship to others? But Geoffrey kept silent, knowing Albus probably knew he had gone out that night. Albus's next words confirmed Geoffrey's assumptions.

"Why do you lie to me, Geoffrey?" Albus asked with hurt eyes. Geoffrey immediately felt guilty for all the cruel thoughts he had just been thinking about his uncle.

"I… I'm sorry, Uncle, you're right, I went out."

"With who?" Albus seemed interested, but Geoffrey knew that he was just trying to find out who it was so he could forbid Geoffrey from seeing them ever again.

"A girl…" said Geoffrey, playing with his thumbs and looking anywhere but his uncle. Albus's frown deepened.

"What girl?" his voice had deepened too, and Geoffrey knew he was trying to find out who the girl was so he could warn Geoffrey to stay away from 'girls like that.' He did it every time Geoffrey made a friend and it drove him mad. Boiling with fury once more, Geoffrey could barely contain it as he spoke his next words.

"I'm not going to tell you," he said, stubbornly. Albus leaned over his desk, his eyes narrowed.

"And why not?" he asked. Geoffrey wondered if his voice was threatening. Slightly frightened, but still burning with rage, Geoffrey continued.

"Because!" he declared defiantly. "Because every time I make a friend, you have to take him away and tell me 'he's not the right sort' or 'why don't I buy you a dog?' I'm sick of it, Uncle! I don't have a single friend, not one! If I died in a cave one day, the only one who would miss me is you and I don't think even you would notice my absence!" Panting and surprised at his own outburst, Geoffrey was suddenly coy and winced. But he saw the smile on Dumbledore's face.

"A boy after my own heart," he heard him mumble. Confused, Geoffrey listened to the older wizard. "Fine. Keep your secrets. Go out with this mystery girl for as long as you want! But just let me meet her before you marry her!"

Geoffrey was startled at his Uncle's response to his befriending someone Albus hadn't even met. And yet, he was happy at the same time. Albus was allowing him to have a friend. To have his blessings made Geoffrey feel like he… Like Albus finally trusted him.

As he laid in his bed staring up at the ceiling, he listened to the soft hooting of owls outside his window. The moonlight spilled in like a silver white liquid and Geoffrey smiled. He enjoyed nights like these.

Something in the stars made him think of Lucy. The way they sparkled and winked at him mischievously reminded him of those sparkling green eyes. The wisps of nearly invisible clouds wove together to create her lips and soon, Geoffrey seemed to see her whole face in the sky. She was so beautiful…

He begged silently and desperately to himself that if he ever did become serious about Lucy and if he ever did introduce her to his uncle, that Albus would approve. Though the man frustrated Geoffrey, he was all Geoffrey had. He had grown up without any parents, without any friends at all. Albus was the only person he knew. And then there was Lucy. And though he had known her only for a day, he felt like he'd known her for years. As if he'd seen her in his dreams before he'd even met her. As if she had been his child playmate (though he had had no child playmates). She was quickly becoming the second closest thing to his heart, the first one being his uncle.

As he sat there, staring at the ceiling, he found his heart thudding against his ribcage. His mind was racing and skirting around inappropriate thoughts. Every time he thought of the girl it made him feel dizzy. He had never felt this way before about anyone and he wasn't quite sure what it meant. Her deep jade eyes burned a blissful scar on his mind.

"Your eyes…" he muttered. "Like emerald spheres locked in a pool of beauty…" He smiled slightly to himself as he thought how poetic she made him feel. Inspiration. And he desperately needed inspiration.

Unwillingly, his thoughts shifted to his work. He longed to think of his damsel with hair as fiery as her spirit, but a little voice kept nagging him, like a child pulling on its mother's dress. You can't make it go away until its satisfied. And so, reluctantly, he heeded the voice and concentrated on his work.

There were not many people who did what Geoffrey did. What could you invent that magic had not already made possible? What did people need that they didn't already have? How could he use magic to his advantage to make life easier?

Love.

A love spell. Not a wizard, nor witch for that matter, had ever succeeded in mixing a potion of amour without side effects. Either the potion would wear off, or cause mayhem. Either the spell was broken and forgotten with the first kiss, or it lasted until the victim was driven insane and could not think of anyone else but the object of their affections.

Geoffrey cringed. He thought of someone falling so deep in love that they went mad and became obsessed with their love. It was a depressing and frightening thought. Those were the most dangerous love potions they no longer sold on the market. He needed to mix a different kind of love potion than anyone before him. Not one to be used to make someone fall in love, but merely to bring up unconscious feelings. The potion was only to be used for that reason only. If it was given to someone who had no feelings at all, they might develop a small crush, but after the potion wore off, no damage would be done. On someone who did harbor feelings for the mixer, the potion would bring about a revelation to their eyes as they understood their love. After the potion wore off, they would still feel the burning love.

It was an interesting thought. A less powerful potion to encourage love instead of create it. But one problem remained. How on earth was he supposed to make a love potion when he had never felt love himself?

Lucy flew once more to his thoughts like an angel. She was so gorgeous and beautiful… He thought of kissing those crimson lips and stroking her warm cheek. He thought of holding her hand gently in his. Something suddenly came over Geoffrey, a numb feeling of happiness. All of a sudden, he thought to himself, Is this what love feels like?

"Ah, a love potion…" Albus murmured dreamily. "Excellent, idea, Geoffrey. Now I really should be going…"

"I really think I'll be successful on this, Uncle Albus," Geoffrey said, excitedly. Albus grinned at the boy before he left.

"Yes, Geoffrey. Just remember success isn't everything. Success does not necessarily mean happiness. It could mean wealth or a good reputation or a steady job or a loyal wife… but things are only happy if you this is what you want." Geoffrey nodded.

"You're successful and you're happy," he pointed out. Albus gave him a sad smile.

"There are many things about me that you do not know, Geoffrey," he said. "Even the most successful have their painful secrets."

"I want this, Uncle," Geoffrey said, at last.

"Then go for it," Albus urged. "I believe in you, boy."

His uncle forced Geoffrey to go to a lecture on potions after Geoffrey has proposed the idea of a love potion.

"It will help with your work," Albus urged. Geoffrey had been happy to go.

However, the lecture didn't seem to be helping him with his work at all. It was as dull as hell as the man droned on about how this ingredient would do this and this ingredient would do that and combined together they would make a shrinking potion. It was nothing Geoffrey was interested in at all. Nothing useful came out of the mouths of any of the speakers.

As he was close to falling asleep, he caught sight of a flash of bright red hair in his row a few chairs down. His eyes snapped open as he whipped his head to his left and saw a young girl, her elbow on her knee and her hand on her cheek, trying to stay awake. Grinning, Geoffrey whispered to her.

"Lucy," he uttered. He saw her eyes droop and hissed, "Lucy!" The girl's eyelids fluttered and she looked around, startled. The corners of her lips twitched as she noticed who had spoken.

"Geoffrey…" she uttered softly on those crimson lips he dreamed of kissing.

"Lucy…" he whispered, a stupid grin forming on his own face. He shook his head out of it and beckoned her to sit closer to him. They were sitting in the back where there were many empty chairs. She moved and sat right next to Geoffrey.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, quietly so not to disturb anyone.

"It's my potions detention," she said. "The Professor insisted I come to this lecture. He said it would be 'beneficial.' What about you?"

"A new project I'm working on. A love potion," Geoffrey replied. "My uncle thought this would help me. But it isn't." A devilish grin crossed Lucy's features.

"Let's get out of here!" she urged. "For all my professor knows, I'm at this lecture and you have nothing to gain." Geoffrey nodded eagerly. Lucy snatched his hand and, bending over so they wouldn't attract too much attention, they sneaked out of the hall, trying hard not to burst out laughing as they did so.

When they exited the building, it didn't take them long to notice the torrential rain. Standing there for two seconds already made them look as if they just stepped out of the shower. They were overcome with fits of hysterical laughter at the look of each other.

Lucy's black robes were sticking to her skin and her emerald green long-sleeved shirt looked like a green plastic bag. Her now dark red hair was plastered to her face, but she didn't seem to care.

Geoffrey's dark blue robes were too heavy for him in the rain and he threw them off to reveal a black shirt. His wild brown hair was drenched and his glasses were askew as he looked at Lucy through love-struck blue eyes.

"Come on," he said, "We need to get somewhere dry!"

"Here!" Lucy pulled the young man under a nearby red and white striped awning by a café.

"You look ridiculous!" he cried.

"And you don't?" she replied with a laugh. Geoffrey looked out at the rain, then up at the awning above him, which was being attacked by bullets of water.

"I don't think this will last long," he said.

"Neither do I!" Lucy answered with an adventurous glint to her eye. "Where do you want to go?"

"Go?"

"Yeah! We can go anywhere you want!" They were practically shouting over the storm.

"Hm…" Geoffrey thought. But Lucy had that look on her face.

"I'll meet you there," she said.

"Meet me where?" Geoffrey asked, but before he could get an answer, she Disapperated.

A small parchment fluttered to the watery floor. Geoffrey grabbed it before it became utterly soaked. In blotched ink, it read 'Scarlet Glade.'

Smiling as he thought of the place, he followed the girl.