Chapter Three:
Of Lists, Lusts, and Love NotesIt was by far the strangest list Ginny had ever read, but did it matter? If these were the volatile, dangerous, yet oh so romantic ingredients of the De-Lusting potion, then Ginny had no choice but to retrieve them—in the name of love.
"I've arranged them in the order they must be retrieved—some of them are only very useful for a short while, so those are at the bottom of the list and they should be retrieved last. I'll take half of the list and you'll take the other half. I'd prefer that you'd start first, since you'll have less homework. I've already retrieved the first item."
"Oh yes," Ginny agreed, "I understand completely."
Hermione smiled and Ginny left the room, beaming with her copy of the list in hand, on her way to Divination. She reread the list several times and nodded her head: this seemed absolutely perfect. She knew she could trust Hermione to make a De-Lusting Potion that worked!
Despite the fact that it had never been done before, of course.
De-Lusting Potion 1.0
Earwax Flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean
Violin string
Wood pulp (preferably of love note)
Lock of hair—this is volatile
1 frozen Ashwinder egg
An article of clothing belonging to OOL
A pair of doxy wings
Phoenix ash
One tub of extra-strength hair gel
13 individual demiguise hairs.
Only when she read the second item on the list was she discouraged—did she know anyone who played the violin? As Ginny wandered up the stairs to the Divination room, she began to feel more and more let down—there would be no de-lusting, and she would forever stay in lust with—
Squeak.
Creak… creak… squeak.
From the Divination room there was a restless squeaking, which quickly interrupted Ginny from her thoughts of unrequited lust. It sounded quite like someone was murdering a cat—or running a goat over with tractor—or beating Neville with a broom while he was bound and gagged and on laughing gas.
The door flew open the instant Ginny got near enough to hear properly. Professor Sybill Trelawney in swathes of purple was floating around the room, eyes closed, looking more bug-like than ever, with a violin in hand. "Da-dee, da-dee, da-DUM, da-da, da-dee, da-dee, da-DUM, da-da, da-dee…" she hummed as she waltzed across the room. "Oh, Dumbly, you're DEVINE... you send shivers down my SPINE… Oh how I wish that you were MINE, my Dumbly, my Dumbly…"
Luckily for Ginny, the door slammed shut before she could hear: "Oh, Dumbly… quite humbly… when you're near my heart goes numbly…"
"Oh my," murmured Ginny before she rushed downstairs, deciding she would wait a while before returning to the Divination classroom.
"Dumbly, my Dumbly, I ask of you of quite humbly, release my heart, oh, Dumbly, do…" was the verse Trelawney had just finished singing when Ginny returned into the classroom, unpleasantly surprised to find the violin gone.
---
Later that day, Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered into the Potions classroom. Not together, of course. Hermione had gotten to class early and another pixie had found its way up Ron's nose, so he and Harry had been late. Snape had yelled at them for the three minutes he required of himself and then told them to stand for the entire period—which today would last one hour. No slouching.
And through the entire period they could faintly make out the words: "Not a word can I utter, without melting like butter, my heart begins to flutter…"
Hermione had looked back at them once, full of pity, but after a while, she had made herself stop by repeating the effective mantra of: De-Lust! De-Lust! De-Lust!
Snape wandered around the classroom, sniffing at people and making sure they were putting the right amount of toxic materials into their potions, spreading the scent of Melvin Klein Wizarding Cologne. He had read in his latest self-help book—just one in a fascinating collection—that wearing cologne boosts confidence, so this morning he had happily slathered it on over his Eau de Mordu and waltzed into class über-confident and raring to go. He was also mentally repeating his self confidence mantra of the week.
"Open your textbooks to page three-HUNDRED-and-fifty-TWO—"
Because I'm sexy.
"—and read passages one through six—"
Because I'm sexy.
"—then close your books and return your attention to me."
Because I'm sexy.
Believe it, Snape, believe it!
It was working already.
"Harry," Ron whispered, staring as the fluid in his cauldron turned bright pink, "how is all this Shakespeare supposed to help with me and Hermione—she won't even look at me!" As Ron spoke the pink fluid sloshed onto his shirt and burned a heart-shaped hole in it. It was almost cute. But not.
"Hermione loves Shakespeare," Harry whispered as quietly as he could, noting that the heart-shaped hole was turning in to a fish-shaped one. "Write her a note." Harry handed Ron his quill.
"Er—Dear Hermione—"
The quill began scratching on the piece of paper on the ground: My dearest, darling Hermione, it read, so far, making Harry wonder if, supposing Ron actually gave the note to Hermione, she would even for a second believe that he had actually written it.
"Ron, don't tell me you've cast that foul spell of Rita Skeeter's on that quill," Harry sighed.
"It's helpful you know—makes for good Divination essays," Ron shrugged. Ever since Trelawney had been reinstated, (Firenze had retreated back to the Forbidden Forest after he realized how little the art of Divination was respected at Hogwarts) Ron had realized that she couldn't really tell the difference. He watched as the quill penned: My dearest, darling Hermione, passion of my life—
"Good grief," Harry groaned as the quill continued to scratch away at the piece of paper. Ron only nodded his head as he continued to dictate to it.
"I'm—er—really sorry—" he said, which readily produced: My days and nights have been filled with the deepest regret.
"—I wish you would talk to me—" became: If you would but look my way, the world and its wrongs would be instantly righted…
Harry looked away, sure that the quill would do just as good a job without his staring at it. Snape was grimly discussing the effects of the potion—and casually mentioning that if it had turned pink then twenty points would be deducted from the grade.
"Here—take it," Ron said, shoving the note into Harry's hands, causing him to spill his bottle green potion onto the floor and onto Snape's shoes.
"I see Potter sees it fit not to pay attention in class," Snape hissed. "What's this Potter? Has Potter got a love note? Hand it here."
Harry reluctantly gave Snape the note.
"Oh, how sweet," Snape smirked. "You won't mind if I read it aloud, will you? I'm sure Miss Granger is dying to hear the contents." Snape had already begun reading before Harry could say a word.
"My dearest, darling Hermione, passion of my life,
"My days and nights have been filled with the deepest regret; if you would but look my way, the world and its wrongs would be instantly righted. My heart belongs to you only, but—alas!—it seems you do not know it. So I leave you now, with the words of a poet—"
"Ron!" muttered Harry under his breath.
"I couldn't help myself," Ron replied.
"But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
It is the East, and Juliet is the sun!
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief
That thou her maid art far more fair than she.
Be not her maid, since she is envious.
Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off.
It is my lady. O, it is my love!
O that she knew she were!"
"I never knew you were so sweet, Potter," Snape seethed. "Detention!"
7