Hermione lay in her bed, her face nestled in her pillow. Ginny, Remora, Alexandra, Tiffany and Lisa were all huddled in a circle on Ginny's bed talking at what seemed the speed of light. They were talking in hushed tones but Hermione could make out the words "love," "Harry," "Ron," "dance," and a few other words in that general category. The Valentine's Day Dance was in two days. Of course they already had dates, but Hermione didn't. Ron had started to ask her, she thought, but then he had tripped over his foot and needed to be rushed to the hospital wing. She only thought of Harry as a friend—and besides he was going with Lavender or Parvati or someone.
So her Valentine's Day options were as follows:
1)Go to the dance, monitor the punch bowl like her life depended on it and be the laughing stock of the entire school.
2)Sit on her cot, lie in the dark, and gorge herself on pity chocolates the girls had given her.
3)Buy a hundred cats and live out the rest of her life in solitude.
4)All of the above.
Wait—that was it. Her only choices were pity chocolates, cats, or a cheap, plastic punch bowl.
Hermione let out a moan and all the girls turned to stare at her. Ginny hopped down from the bed. She was wearing a Weasley original, a skirt with mixed shiny pink patches, a pink sweater that somehow clashed with the skirt, and chocolate brown clogs. Chocolate, thought Hermione with a surge of regret. "Hey, Hermione… why are you lying like that?" asked Ginny.
I don't want to mess up my hair; I'm avoiding acne, dermatologist recommended, thought Hermione. She frantically searched for an excuse but none came.
"I'm—um—um, tired. Yeah," Hermione fumbled.
"But it's one p.m., silly!" Ginny protested.
I'm being interrogated by a girl in pastels! Hermione leaped up and out of her bed and turned to face Ginny. "Oh, ho, well in that case I'm going to go frolic with the guys like an idiotic idiot in my totally clashing outfit. Oh wait! You've already taken that role haven't you!" Brilliant, Hermione. With that she pulled a polka doted sweater over her striped shirt and left the dorm huffing and mumbling under her breath. Outside kids were walking hand in hand and talking. A group of girls was rushing off the grounds for the trip to Hogsmeade.
Buying dresses, probably, Hermione thought and hurriedly walked past them. Harry was reading by a group of olive trees and she hurried over to see him. He snapped his book shut and smiled at her.
"Who are you taking to the dance?" she asked leaning next to him in the tangle of branches.
"I'm asking Lavender I think," he said, staring ahead to where Lavender and Parvati were showing off a slimming black dress in a bag. Gggrrrrrr…
"Oh! Um, Harry… do you think I'm unapproachable?" she asked.
He glanced down at her shirt and sweater and said: "In that—yes!"
She laughed and slapped his arm. "Oh, hey want to grab a bite?" Harry asked as he checked his watch.
"Can't, I've got to figure this out," she said—more to herself than to him.
"Figure out what?" he asked, but she was already a small polka-dotted smear against the afternoon sky.
"Oh-my-gosh-I-am-a-genius!" exclaimed Lisa. Ginny, Alexandra, Tiffany and Remora stared at her as she buzzed around the dorm giggling excitedly. Her peach velour sweats bounced with her and her brown-black curls sprung up and down uncontrollably.
"What-are you doing?" asked Ginny. Lisa stopped and plopped down on the bed. "Okay, you know how those things Hermione said were rude—and weird—and how at the same time you feel bad about how she doesn't have a date for the dance?" she blurted out in one breath. "Well, what if you could get revenge and a date for Hermione on the side?" She finished with a wicked smile on her face.
"What are you saying?" asked Ginny. All the girls hovered closer as Lisa pulled something from her trunk. Wrapped in a burlap cloth was a thin silvery vial. Some words in Latin that Ginny couldn't make out were inscribed on the side. Lisa pulled the ruby-studded stopper off and the girls gasped. Inside was a hot pink liquid that glowed and almost seemed to pulse.
"What is it?" asked Ginny dreamily.
"Love potion number nine." Lisa hissed through her teeth. In the hot pink light Lisa's face had taken on a snake-like glow and she smiled wildly.
Hermione lunged through the door of the dorm panting and pulled her robes on. She was late for dinner. After she talked to Harry she had jogged around the lake and lost track of time. She ran through the open corridor towards the Great Hall.
She burst in and sat down next to Ron, Harry, Ginny and Lisa. "Love the new look, Mione," said Lisa. Hermione looked down at the purple and yellow polka doted sleeves protruding from her robes. Hate her hate her hate her.
"Thanks, Lis-lis, dear," she sneered and grabbed at the pitcher of pumpkin juice on the table.
"Have one already made up for you," said Lisa, handing her a goblet of orange juice. The juice had an odd glow to it, almost like it was pulsing or something.
Ginny loudly gulped as Hermione raised the goblet to her lips. An odd fluttering, fuzzy feeling spread through Hermione as a peachy. rosy taste mixed with pumpkin slipped down her throat. She gagged and sputtered as the taste turned to ash. Lisa cackled as Hermione's face became distorted in disgust. Ginny whimpered and began wringing her hands.
In the middle of all of this, Neville burst into the Great Hall, tripped over a Slytherin's foot, banged into Cho Chang, who was carrying a large platter of spaghetti and tomato sauce, and landed on his face at Hermione's feet. He was covered in noodles and sauce and so was Cho.
"Are you all right Neville?" Hermione asked as she leaned over to help him up. As her hand touched Neville's, she gasped, suddenly realizing how muscular and strong he was. She looked at him as he tried in vain to tidy himself. Since when was his blue polyester sweater so irresistibly sexy? The sauce covered him all over—it dripped from his cheek down his chest and pant leg to his—
"Um, Hermione you're looking at Neville like a prime rib roast—you do realize that?" whispered Harry.
She nodded, taking a new seat at the table closer to Neville. Sexy, sexy, sexy. "I'd be like totally worried if you had gotten hurt, Nevy," Hermione cooed.
"Nevy?" said Ron and Harry in unison.
"Poor little Nevy-wevy." giggled Hermione.
"Nevy wevy?" cried Harry and Ron.
Hermione was filled with fuzzy-wuzzy feelings……wait, did she just think the words fuzzy wuzzy? Aaaaaaahhhhhhh!
Ginny, what have you done? Bad, Ginny bad! Ginny thought.
She never meant for it to go this far. Harry would hate her if he found out. Harry. She had to fix things…….now.
Hermione was in the dorm, in a pink flannel nightshirt with yellow bunnies on it. Muggle parents. Bunnies. Neville. Harry. Ron. Lisa. Ginny. Nachos. Nachos? She obviously wasn't thinking straight. Nachos? She couldn't stop thinking of Neville. His irresistible polyester goodness. Yummy. She had to go to the Valentine's Day Dance with him. Ron and his bad footing could wait. Did she just say that?
There's chapter one ya'll thanks for reading. please review. it might be a while before I write again sorry. Love you guys!