Chapter Two:

Got Lust?

"I need a De-Loving Potion," Hermione sighed in the library, unable to concentrate on Arithmancy at all. Ginny was sitting beside her working on her Potions homework, "deeply involved," but able to overhear Hermione all the same.

"For what?" she asked.

Hermione only ignored her as she continued to drown in melancholia. "You know what—it's not even really, love, I'm sure. It's lust. I need a De-Lusting Potion."

"Is there any such thing?" Ginny asked, slightly confused, but persisting with her questions though Hermione continued not to hear a word she said.

"I'm inventing the De-Lusting Potion—'Got Lust? Get Potion!' That's what the commercial is going to say, definitely, definitely…"

"Commercial?" said Ginny, more bewildered than ever.

"I'll be De-Lusted if it's the last thing I do!" declared Hermione, gathering together all her materials, and rushing out of the library, the gears in her head turning impossibly fast as the thought of being De-Lusted grew and grew.

"What's she got to be De-Lusted for?" Ernie Macmillan muttered in his corner of the library.

---

"No one ever said there'd be homework," Ron groaned as he dumped the load of books onto his bed in the dormitory, then collapsing onto the bed beside them. "And what's all this supposed to teach me about love anyway? I don't even know who this Spooks-Spears guy is."

"That's William Shakespeare," Harry said grinning from ear to ear. "I thought of it the minute Dobby said, 'To flee or not to flee.'"

"Whatever," Ron shrugged. "But I've got to read all this? You're kidding me—I've got too much homework as it is, seeing as how this is the year Snape decided to really hate me instead of practice hating me."

"Do you want to work things out with Hermione?" said Harry, his expression suddenly becoming serious. It was the middle of the afternoon, and he would usually be off practicing Quidditch with the rest of the team, but it had been cancelled, so now he was inside teaching Ron about Shakespeare, which he thought he'd never do.

"Of course I want to work things out with Hermione," Ron replied sullenly, looking around, "I just don't want to have to read to do it."

Harry couldn't hold back a grin. "Just pick one—I picked all the romantic ones… I think."

"Where'd you get all these anyway? They wouldn't be in our library, if they're by some old, dead Muggle, would they?" mentioned Ron, picking at the dirt underneath his fingernails.

"I borrowed them… from Pansy Parkinson," he laughed. "Now, start reading—I want you to be spouting quotations by the time we get back to class on Monday."

Ron reluctantly picked up the copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream, and began reading the first page. Before long, he had turned to Harry again. "Wait… so Pansy Parkinson's touched this?"

"Just read it."

---

Ginny rushed through the halls, insatiably curious. What on earth is a De-Lusting Potion? Suddenly, she stopped and backtracked, unsure if she had seen what she thought she had seen. Was that Ron—reading a book? Ginny continued onward, knowing that she had to keep going—she had to know what a De-Lusting Potion was… and, just maybe, where she could get one.

"If there really is such thing as a De-Lusting potion," Ginny thought, "then I really do need one. I mean, doesn't every girl need a De-Lusting potion?" Now the commercial slogans were running through Ginny's head: The De-Lusting Potion—every girl needs one—for those pesky feelings that just won't go away!

And did Ginny ever know about those pesky feelings! As a matter of fact—

Smash.

The noise was coming from Hermione's dormitory, and Ginny, knowing Hermione, knew that something odd must be occurring. Usually, Hermione was reading or doing miscellaneous homework—both quiet activities. Ginny had to remind herself that snooping was immoral—but she was there anyway—so what was the point in turning back now? Exactly. And Hermione was there, so it wasn't snooping, not at all.

"Hermione?" Ginny whispered, sticking her head through the door. Ginny was shocked and appalled: there was Hermione, refined and dignified—chasing Crookshanks, who had an entire package of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans in his mouth, around the room. "Hermione?" repeated Ginny warily.

"Oh, Ginny!" exclaimed Hermione. "Thank goodness you're here—I could definitely use your help. You have absolutely no idea…"

"Do I want to know?" asked Ginny. Inside she was screeching: Yes! I want to know! Tell me, tell me, tell me—what's a De-Lusting Potion???

Hermione sat down on her bed and Ginny rushed through the door and quickly pulled up a chair, intensely interested. "I'm making a De-Lusting Potion—but please don't go telling everyone: this is a one-time thing."

"Oh, oh, of course," Ginny agreed eagerly, happy just to be part of it. "Now, what is a De-Lusting Potion? Oh, let me guess—you're trying to fall out of love with Ron—is that it?"

"Lust—I'm trying to fall out of lust with Ron," Hermione corrected emphatically. "There's a quite a difference," Hermione explained.

"Oh, of course, but how on earth can I help you?" asked Ginny, her subconscious squealing: And if I do, may I please, please, please use some? Please???

"Well, Ginny," Hermione sighed, "I've made a list."