Chapter 2: The Dangers of Blending Magicks
He had been late to breakfast that morning. Rushing down the stairs, he had pounded into the Great Hall clutching his peaked hat to his head. He slid into a seat at the Gryffindor table under the disapproving gaze of Professor McGonagall, gracelessly bumping into Hermione in the process. Reaching for the eggs, he turned his head to swiftly apologize and accidentally bumped his chin against her forehead. Both groaned and clutched their injured faces, apologizing profusely to one another at the same time.
"Is your girlfriend trying to teach you the fine art of snogging, Weasel-by?" a pretentious voice drawled. Draco Malfoy and his mongoloid body guards Crabbe and Goyle had strolled up behind the trio to offer this jibe. Turning to his attentive sycophants, Draco continued, "S'been hired to make Potter jealous, no doubt. After that Rita Skeeter exclusive even a weepy Potter won't waste time on this trifling shrew." He gestured loosely at a gaping Hermione with a limp white hand. "After all, why would any self-respecting wizard lower himself to a mudblood level…if not for the money?" Turning to meet a fiery-faced Ron, he continued, "Saving up for your second-hand dress robes, I suppose?"
Ron's insides boiled with his fury. Hands clenched around a jug of juice, he struggled to his feet, sloshing the contents dangerously close to Draco's school robes. "Skeeve off, you blast-ended prat!" He ground out.
"Yeah. What's wrong Malfoy?" Harry added, his fingers biting into the table across from the intruders. "You're not jealous, are you?"
"Jealous of your leavings, Potter?" Malfoy countered, "I think not!"
"What?" Ron continued menacingly, "Suddenly realized these two giddy gits are unable to satisfy your animal appetites? Or are you holding out the hope that there's another great, ridiculous bouncing ferret that'll take you up on a shag?"
"Yes," chortled Hermione beside him, "If you asked Professor Moody nicely, I'm sure he'd transfigure someone into a hopping pug pup upon whom you could enact your ferrety seduction. I'm sure Pansy would volunteer for THOSE furry attentions."
The trio collapsed upon their seats in a fit of laughter as Malfoy's face flushed a violent shade of magenta. Crabbe and Goyle merely gaped at them before turning their heads to meet the glare of Pansy Parkinson, who had hung back at their elbows. Wrinkling her snub nose, she scoffed loudly before flouncing from the room. Her Potter Stinks button winked dangerously from its position on her heaving chest and seemed to glare down the entire length of the Gryffindor table. Malfoy followed suit, slapping the button on his chest with violent force before storming from the room, all the while muttering about retribution. Crabbe and Goyle jutted their chins out at the Gryffindors menacingly and then hulked off behind their fur-less leader.
Harry shook his head at their retreating backs, stood up from the table, and made his way towards the library for another round of research. He waved to Ron and Hermione and shared a lingering grin with them as they prepared to leave for class.
After that morning's mild success, classes seemed like a tranquil retreat. Ron visibly sighed with relief as Professor Flitwick announced that they could treat his class period as a free review. Most of the students, especially after seeing Harry's performance at the first trial, decided to practice the Summoning Charm while others focused on its opposite, the Banishing Charm. Unfortunately for Ron, Neville was more concerned about honing his Cheer Charm as Hermione had stressed that it would probably show up on their O.W.L.'s. He and Seamus were partnered behind Ron and Hermione as they all began to practice.
Ron's Summoning Charm was relatively shaky due to his lack of concentration. He kept reflecting on Mad-Eye Moody's transfiguration of that albino git Malfoy into a bouncing ferret. He treasured that memory as one of the highest points in his life. His mild hero-worship of Professor Moody had lead to dreams of becoming an Auror when he grew up. He wondered whether he'd be able to use the Imperius or Cruciatus Curse on another person. He didn't think he'd have the heart. It was easy to picture Malfoy as a guinea pig for those exercises, but, then again, he was a prat; he seemed subhuman with his unfeeling attitude and cruel, elitist family. He couldn't picture himself in control of another living being and brought this point up to Hermione.
"Accio libros! Erm, Hermione? Do you think that a wizard can become an Auror if he, y'know, is a bit of a…pacifist- when it comes to the Deadly Curses?"
"Ronald! Honestly, you must concentrate on the object you are summoning. You must focus on an ACTUAL book, not just books in general." Glancing at his pensive expression, she sighed and considered his query. "Well, I suppose that could be a breaking point in their career. The Deadly Curses are outlawed presently, but who knows whether or not they'll be needed to fight a war in the future. Of course, there are other ways of enacting a form of the Imperious Curse using only a simple Cheer Charm and Veritaserum."
"Veritaserum? You mean that truth potion that oily git Snape threatened Harry with?" Ron looked at her with wide eyes as she nodded shortly. He was always amazed by her familiarity with subjects great and small. He choked back his mild jealousy. He knew that Hermione studied hard to master so many topics, but it always seemed like the answers flowed from the air, through her riotous curls to her brain, and out through her mouth like a kind of cosmic osmosis.
"Ronald WEASLEY," She admonished. "Snape is still our Professor! He may be a bitter, nasty scold but we mustn't use such language, ever. It makes us just as petty. As mum would say, 'Ron, use your big-boy words.'" Hermione chuckled a little at her small joke before continuing. "Honestly, it is truly fascinating how the combined dis-inhibitors in the Cheer Charm and Veritaserum can completely deplete its victim of his free will. Why, anyone who wanted to take advantage of the afflicted could get them to admit to any truth as well as anything else they wished him to confess."
Ron ducked swiftly as Neville's charm misfired in his direction. Neville was known for overly potent charms, and with Hermione's latest revelation Ron was even more skittish about being hit. He glanced at her with a harried expression, saying:
"What do you mean? I know that the Cheer Charm can lower your inhibitions and make you feel super-happy, like you've drunk well beyond your tolerance of mulled mead, but I thought Veritaserum forced you to tell the truth and ONLY the truth."
"That's just it, Ron. Both alone can alter your state of consciousness enough that you could confess your deepest, darkest secrets to your worst enemy, but when they are both combined it acts like a form of Muggle hypnosis. Only the subconscious mind remains intact and the victim becomes highly suggestible. He can no longer recognize the boundaries between what is right or wrong. There is no difference between fiction and reality or truth and fabrication in his mind, nor can he foresee the consequences of his unwitting revelations. The victim can let his innermost secrets slip out without a qualm, but he can also parrot what the people around him suggest. For example, if you were afflicted and I was to point at your mum and say, 'that woman is no true mother,' you might respond by saying, 'I have no mother,' or even tell her that she is not truly your parent! Can't you imagine the damage that would cause? A truly evil sort of person could make you confess to a murder or profess your devotion for someone you hate, or vice versa."
"Bloody hell!" he murmured. "So, you mean that someone could literally seduce someone, to any action or vow, just by combining those two magicks?" She nodded firmly in response while pursing her lips.
He reflected on this bit of information while gazing into Hermione's bright eyes. They were such a beautiful amber color- a rich and warm brown base with honey-gold flecks that swirled outward in intoxicating patterns. It was like watching one of those muggle confectionary machines that pulled seawater taffy mix toffee and caramel. He licked his lips subconsciously and glanced away, trying to turn his attention back to their conversation.
He frowned softly as he thought of his own words. Seduce, as in seduction? Now where had that come from? Hermione hadn't contradicted him though, so he must have been correct. But who would misuse magic in order to seduce someone else? Love charms and potions were outlawed for similar ethical reasons, although he was sure that dark wizards paid no heed to such restrictions. His frown deepened to a scowl as he looked at Hermione. A fierceness that he couldn't define welled up inside him as he thought of dark wizards and darker deeds. He continued his speculations in a low voice:
"Like, an older guy could completely take control of a younger girl and make her DO things . . . or convince her that he was good when he was really just a dirty, stinking Durmstr—"
Ron faltered as he glimpsed the cloudy expression on Hermione's face. "Erm, I was going to say Drama Queen," he amended.
"Honestly, Ron! What have you got against Viktor Krum? You don't really believe that he's a dark wizard, do you?" She gazed at him with a hurt expression.
It was always this way when they discussed Krum. She always assumed his disapproval of Krum was a judgment against herself. He wondered how she could believe that Durmstrang prat was innocuous. Everyone knew he was a world renowned athlete. He was stronger than her, taller than them both, and older. Everyone knew about older boys and younger girls . . . especially one Hermione Granger. How could she trust HIM when they hadn't even ever . . . and HOW did she know about the supposed seduction response of the two combined magicks. Surely not from experience!
"Ron?" She chastised, and then with a panicked expression shouted, "OH!—duck!" She attempted to deflect Neville's charm with a heavy tome, but it struck Ron right in the chest with a violent force.
He found himself flipping over his desk and falling to the classroom floor, winded. His head struck the stone with an audible crack, but he never felt a thing. Already, his entire body was suffused with a gentle heat. It spread from his chest out through his limbs, and finally it filled his head with bright light and contentment. He rubbed his chest, marveling at the softness of his robes and looked up into Hermione's face as she fell to her knees beside him. He glanced to the left of her shoulder and spotted Neville, that wonderful boy, clutching his wand to his chest as a concerned expression marred his features. He sent him a chipper grin, and saluted Professor Flitwick as his face came into view above his own.
"Cheer Charm?" He asked Neville solemnly. The boy looked down and nodded grievously. "Well," Professor Flitwick continued, "no real harm done there. Nothing for it but to wait until it has passed. By Mr. Weasley's pupil dilation, I would give him another three hours to recover." He carefully ran his fingers over the back of Ron's head before continuing. "And it looks as though you may have a knot here, but there's no need to visit Madam Pomfrey as of yet. I can help you, here." And with that, Professor Flitwick pulled his wand from the voluminous folds of his left sleeve, muttered an incantation, and then helped Ron to rise. "Keep an eye on him, won't you Miss Granger?"
"Yes, Professor. Of course I will." She answered firmly.
With help from Seamus and Neville, they managed to get Ron back to his seat. Neville seemed devastated about his mistake. He continued to apologize profusely as they all walked out of the classroom and into the hall. In an effort to cheer him, Hermione said, "Don't worry about it Neville. After all, no one was really hurt. Things could be much, much worse." She assured him.
"Yes," agreed Ron with a laugh, "you could have given me a dose of Veritaserum and made me admit my deepest, darkest secrets to the Slytherins!"
"And what would that entail, Weasley? That you're forced to share knickers with your little sister?" Pansy Parkinson's nasty voice squeaked from behind them.
Ron turned to greet her hateful expression and his grin widened. Plucking at the fabric of her sleeve, he leaned in close and said, "Bet you'd love that, wouldn't you Pansy-pug?"
It was the suggestive wink that accompanied his comment that forced Pansy to choke on her retort and scurry off down the hall towards her fellow Slytherins. Hermione, however, was no less shocked by his actions, and proceeded to thwack him on the shoulder with her Potions textbook.
"Ronald Weasley!" She breathed incredulously. "How utterly horrid and wicked!"
Ron brushed off her attack with his hands and swayed on his feet. Flinging his arms out, he fell towards her but managed to brace himself with his hands on the wall behind her.
Hermione found herself trapped between his arms as she pressed her back sharply into the wall. He watched her closely as her panting slowed and her eyes dilated from their fearful pinpricks.
Smiling a crooked grin, he replied, "My hero!—Or is it heroine?—Hermione the heroine. You saved me from falling with this convenient wall. Ta!"
She looked up at him with a confounded frown, her cheeks growing warm under his appraisal. "If that's your idea of a thank-you," she replied, "then I shudder to think what the opposite might be!" Raising her arms, she gripped the crooks of his elbows and pressed him back towards Neville and Seamus. "Could you please help him to the Great Hall?" She asked them. "I need to run to the library before going in to lunch."
"No problem, Hermione," Seamus answered with a teasing grin, "we can manage this drunken sot with no trouble at all, right Neville?"
"Right," Neville reassured her. "Have fun?" His warm comment came out more like a question. Hermione was forced to smile at his tone and nod in response before leaving them to make their ungainly way into the Great Hall.
While Ron was more than capable of walking on his own, he was constantly distracted by little things and continuously attempted to shift directions towards this person or that painting. Eventually the boys managed to get him seated at the long Gryffindor table. Once there, he waved cheerily at Fred and George, who were already seated at the long table. They laughed and waved back, plotting to send an interesting tell-all missive to their mother by the end of the day. Ron turned his head and spotted his sister Ginny seated across from him with her friends Colin and Dennis Creevey.
He slouched towards her with a great grin, saying "Hullo, Ginny!" He glanced over to Colin and Dennis and gestured towards his sister with a jerk of his thumb and head. "That's m'sister," he told them. They nodded, trading anxious smiles with one another.
He felt someone walk up behind him even as Ginny's frown became a deep scowl. Turning in his seat, he looked behind himself to see Malfoy standing by his elbow with a glass of pumpkin juice.
"Weasley," Malfoy began.
"Ferret," Ron answered, chuckling aloud as Malfoy's expression tensed with fury.
Malfoy's pale fingers clenched tightly around the glass, quivering silently, before his face broke into a condescending smile.
"I see that the rumor about Neville's Cheer Charm has proved true," he replied. "I thought that you might be due for a glass of pumpkin juice." He shook the glass gently in Ron's face. Ron laughed in confusion.
"Why would YOU want to do ME any favors, Faco?" He queried.
"Draco." Malfoy corrected firmly.
"Yeah, okay, whatever Milt-boy," Ron waved his hand in the air flippantly to emphasize his words. "What do you want?"
"I was out of line this morning, Weasley. I shouldn't have suggested you'd waste time making eyes at Granger. She's with Krum now, right? Besides, we're both from established wizarding families, and that shouldn't be overlooked. So, look, bygones, alrigh'? Well, at least for today," he amended.
In his cheerful state, Ron accepted Malfoy's words without more than a cursory suspicion. Accepting the glass from the pale-haired Slytherin, he saluted him with the raised glass and a nod of his head. After all, who was he to refuse free pumpkin juice? He'd already begun to take a drink as he turned his face back to his tablemates.
Gulping the pumpkin juice down in three hearty swallows, he lowered the glass to see Harry seated to the left of his sister. Harry was looking at him with a confused frown and rubbed his scarred forehead absently. Watching Malfoy slink back towards the Slytherin table with an evil smirk, he asked Ron what Malfoy had wanted. Hermione echoed his question almost immediately as she walked up to the table and squeezed in beside Ron.
"What did HE want?" She asked, looking first at Harry who shrugged his shoulders and then at Ron.
"Bygones," said Ron with a lopsided grin. "Apologized for making an arse of himself this morning." He braced an arm around her shoulders in a warm hug. "Bugger admitted you weren't a waste of time!" He shook her shoulders slightly before pausing, obviously pondering something. "Wait a tick. He said you were with Krum, too."
Looking at her with a bemused expression, he watched her face flush bright red as his thoughts began to lighten. They seemed to float out of his head, leaving only softness and warmth. He turned to Harry and replied, "Hermione was in the library with Viktor."
All eyes seemed to focus on his bemused expression at this odd offering of words. There seemed to be no emotion behind them; he was neither jealous nor ecstatic. He acted as if they were spoken by someone else and failed to react at all. They all shared a round of shrugs while Hermione explained that he'd been the victim of a potent Cheer Charm. Nonetheless, she turned a concerned expression upon him.
As they all turned their eyes back to Ron, he offered them a vacant stare and a half-smile. Hermione frowned as she watched him. His stomach began doing acrobatics as he sat under her gaze. At first he mistook them for the normal twists his stomach suffered when she looked at him, but then the knots tightened, and burst. Ron doubled over, clutching his stomach in pain, even as lavender smoke began leaking from his ears.
"Ron?" Hermione called. She seemed so far away. "Ron! What's wrong?"
She gasped as she noted the signs: he was suffering from severe stomach cramps, lavender smoke was curling out of his ears, and as he looked up at her, she noted that his normally blue eyes were glazed over with an acid-green sheen of tears. Looking between Ron's anguished expression and the raucous Slytherins, who were busy laughing and pointing at him in glee, realization struck her. She tipped his empty glass and noted faint silvery traces of potion against the sides.
"He's been infected!" She cried, obviously horrified.
"With what?" Everyone seemed to call.
"Cheering Charm," she pronounced, " . . . and Veritaserum!"