I swallowed dryly and looked into the circular Gryffindor common room. Hermione and Ron were both there, and they were engulfed in their stories just like everyone else.

Hermione was near the fireplace, talking softly to Trevor. Trevor sat on the table, looking as confused as a toad could possibly look. Then Hermione bent forward and kissed Trevor right between his toad eyes. A stream of slime stuck to her lips as she pulled away from him.

I saw Ron, grasping a spoon and bending over a bowl of something, touching his tongue to the spoon to taste the food. I thought for a moment that maybe he had been unaffected and that he could help me, but when I approached him my hopes were dashed.

"This porridge is too hot!" he exclaimed to me.

Hermione began to cry behind me.

"He was supposed to turn into a prince," she sobbed. Her arms wrapped around me awkwardly and she cried into my shoulder.

"Hermione!" I said, wiggling away. "What's wrong with you?"

She stared at me, and for a fleeting moment her eyes changed. She made a face as she tasted the slimy mess on her bottom lip and wiped it away. She looked around.

"Harry, why aren't we down in the..." Hermione began, and then stopped. She caught sight of Trevor hopping across the room. Her eyes glossed over.

"Wait!" she cried to Trevor, and chased him to the other side of the room.

"I don't know what's gotten into her," Ron said. I nodded in agreement, then did a double take.

"Ron?" I asked.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Is it... I mean... you aren't...?" I tried to articulate a question that didn't sound absolutely unintelligent.

"What's going on?" I asked, generalizing as much as I could.

"Everyone's acting weird," Ron observed. Then, out of nowhere, he stood up and crossed the room, settling himself in a chair near the fireplace.

He thought for a couple of moments and said, "Too soft!

I rolled my eyes. What was I going to do? Hermione and Ron couldn't get out of their fairy tales long enough to help me out at all, and everyone else kept getting in the way.

I had to keep away from flying forks as "Robin Hood," a small third year, practiced his archery using utensils from the Great Hall and an old bow from the History of Magic room.

I managed to get Ron and Hermione to follow me wherever I wanted by holding a bowl of porridge in one hand (promising that it was 'just right') and Trevor in the other hand.

Ron, though, insisted on trying out every single chair we passed on our way to Dumbledore's office, which is where I had decided to go next.

"Come on, Ron!" I'd yell, holding Trevor out of reach from Hermione, who was straining with her arm outstretched.

"Wait!" A few seconds later... "Too small!" Ron would then get up until we found the next chair.

We made it down a couple staircases before Hermione finally snatched Trevor out of my hand and I dropped the porridge.

"Too dirty!" Ron said, staring at the porridge on the floor. I sighed and shook my head, rubbing my left temple with my fingers.

"MWAH!" Hermione kissed the toad again, and started crying when he remained a toad.

I heard the distant screaming of Malfoy, and it was getting louder.

I laughed, poking Ron in the shoulder. "Ron! Wake up! You have to see this!" I pointed down the hallway where the screams were coming from, and Malfoy rounded the corner, naked as the day he was born.

Ron, though, was preoccupied with trying to keep Hermione from sobbing on his shoulder, and ignored Malfoy, even as he passed right by us.

We finally managed to get to Dumbledore's office, eventually discovering the password (apple crisp). Ron ran in and dove into the chair in front of the desk.

"Too hard!" he exclaimed with a pout.

"Who's there?" questioned a voice from the room attached to the office. It sounded like Dumbledore, but there was something strange about it.

When he emerged, I realized there would be no help from him. He needed more help than any of us.