Chapter 9

Hermione went down to the Great Hall to eat breakfast. Ron was still asleep. She had not thanked Ron yet for the perfume, and she wanted to get it back from Peeves first. Then she could thank him while she was wearing it! How romantic! She concentrated on her breakfast. Eating alone was boring. She grabbed a couple of slices of toast and left the Great Hall to see Harry. The minute she left, Peeves zoomed in clutching the perfume…

xx

Harry read the letters that were being forced upon him. They scared him instead of inspiring love (except maybe Ginny's). He could see why Professor Slughorn thought that love potions were so powerful. The girls were all clustered around him, eyes brimming with blind devotion and manic obsession.

"Er…" said Harry awkwardly, "They're really good. These poems are really quite clever."

"Really? You really think so?" asked Ophelia in a very flattered tone. A delicate shade of rose tinted her cheeks, and her eyes glistened with tears of joy.

"Really," replied Harry, a note of impatience in his voice.

"Really really? I mean you really don't think Juliet's is better? Or Ginny's? Or Miranda's?"

"Er…" mumbled Harry yet again. The other girls were glaring daggers at him, awaiting his judgment.

"They're all great," sighed Harry, finally.

"Really really?" gasped all four girls. "Do you really mean that? Do you think mine is really that good?" Harry groaned. He wanted to die. He should have let Vodemort finish him when he had the chance.

"Really."

"Really really? I mean do you really think so? Like really really?"

"Yes. Really really."

"Like what kind of really? Like really like you really mean really? Or really like you don't really mean really?" Harry's patience was beginning to wear thin.

"It's great ok? Now stop bothering me! I'm tired!" growled Harry. He instantly realized his mistake. The four pairs of eyes began to glisten, and four bottom lips were trembling uncontrollably.

"I'm really sorry! Are we really bothering you? We'll leave!" quavered Juliet.

"No, no, I'm fine. I'm just kind of tired," muttered Harry. He closed his eyes halfway, and feigned weakness. "I need my rest," he croaked.

"Oh Harry! I'm so sorry! This is all my fault! If only I can make up for it!" wailed Ginny. She began to sob over Harry's broken and bandaged body. It looked just like a touching scene from a movie. Harry pretended to deteriorate even more. He tried to muster up a sick, blank look in his eyes. All four girls clutched their hearts in misery.

"No Ginny, don't feel bad. I'll be fine," rasped Harry dramatically. "I just need my rest." Harry rolled his eyeballs up into his head, then closed his eyes in slow motion for what seemed like the last time…

"Oh Harry! Please don't leave us! Don't leave me!" cried the four girls in unison. A loud scream of anguish broke forth from their lips! A second scream of horror came from the next bed over. It was Colin Creevey! Harry began to snore.

"Surely it can't be true!" wailed Colin, "The noble Harry Potter cannot be dead!"

"O' woe is me!" lamented Ophelia, "Harry has passed on to the great sea beyond the clouds, to leave eternally in a land of paradise and flying silver pigs!" Harry snorted a few times and tried to roll over, but the best he could do was direct his eyelids to a different spot on the ceiling.

"He shall live on forever in our hearts and minds!" declared Juliet, trying to smile bravely through her torrent of tears.

"He'll see his mother and father again, at least," grieved Miranda. Harry sucked up a sliver of spit from the corner of his open mouth.

"He shall never awaken in our world again," sighed Ginny. Harry's eyebrow twitched a couple of times. He continued to pretend to be asleep. "We must build an altar to him in reverence to this fallen hero."

"Yes. Now let us pluck up this divine pair of Harry's socks from his immortal belly and place it in a place of prominence," proclaimed Ophelia through her waterlogged face. She snatched the lurid socks that Dobby had made, and that Harry had never worn off of Harry's white and bandaged stomach. A sigh of relief escaped Harry's lips. The socks were finally off his hands! He could still feel their burn through his eyelids.

"I should like to worship at the temple that you will erect in his honor," said Colin from his hospital bed.

"Then you must join our sacred Sisterhood. Only high priestesses may worship at our holy temple," declaimed Miranda. "In your case, if you do join, we'll make it a Brotherhood and a Sisterhood and you can be a high priest."

"Ok!" beamed Colin, "When can I start?"

"Right after you get out of those bandages!" Ginny smiled at his enthusiasm. "I can see now that you are another Harry-shipper. Let us be friends and rejoice in the existence of other Harry-shipians."

"Right-o!" hollered Colin. In his bliss, he tore himself free from the hardened cocoon of bandages, fully healed and ready to function. "Take me with you! A miracle has happened today thanks to the Great Harry Potter!" With a majestic leap, Colin sprang rejuvenated from the bed.

"Oh Colin! You are just too cool! I can tell that you are a prophet of Harry Potter's! Please! I beg of you to go on a date with me to Hogsmeade next vacation!" yelled Ginny. She grasped Colin's hands earnestly in her own. He was a full head shorter than she was, but did she care? No! Colin was a believer, and so was she. As far as she knew, that was good enough.

Another miracle happened.

Harry bolted up from the bed despite his injuries and former paralysis. "WHAAAT?"

"Oh Harry! You're alive! Please bless our joyful union!"

xx

A Ravenclaw girl calmly ate her breakfast. She was deep in thought about the crossword puzzle in the Daily Prophet. She had already finished the Sudoku in five minutes, even though its toughness level was five stars. She chewed slowly and thought for a while. An uncontrollable spirit of chaos, she thought. This one had her stumped.Suddenly, she heard an insane cackling. A poltergeist!

Peeves rushed in! He was carrying a horrible bottle containing a foul yellow substance. It was most likely urine! Quickly, all of the Hogwarts students protected their slices of toast under their bodies. Some even made a futile dash for the exit. Others tried to dive beneath the tables, but they were all too late! Much too late! Overwhelmingly late! Peeves unleashed a massive spray of the odious fluid all over the Great Hall. It came out in a lovely mist, but smelled horrendous! Exactly like skunk underwear! Every student and every teacher inhaled…

A drop of yellow liquid.

There was a moment of bewilderment on everyone's faces. A second later, their faces snapped into focus, and a ray of pure, beautiful sunlight bathed students and teachers alike, while a chorus of heavenly angels began to sing in the background.

Exalted cries of "Ron Weasley" erupted all over the Great Hall!

xx

Ron rolled over a couple of times. The bloody sun was too bloody bright! He couldn't sleep any longer. He had to wake up. Ron wondered what time it was. By the looks of the empty dorm room, it was probably afternoon.

Ron stumbled out of bed. Where's Harry, he wondered. Then he remembered. Harry was in the hospital wing, probably surrounded by endless amounts of candy and tons of fan girls. Truth to be told, Ron was insanely jealous of Harry's fame, though he did not want to admit it to himself. He was not in touch with his emotions. Ron felt frustrated that he could never stand out among his tons of brothers and peers. To make matters worse, he stood in the shadow of the Great Harry Potter, the Chosen One!

Ron fumbled about for a set of robes. He put it on, and the hem barely got passed his knees. He looked as disheveled as Mundungus, with a capital D-U-N-G! It seemed that Ron had grown another foot during the night. He would have to write home for another set, though he doubted he would get one. His mother would most likely be unable to afford it. This was another aspect that Ron hated about his life! He wished his parents had a bit more money! Ron staggered into the bathroom and brushed his teeth, than ran his fingers quickly through his hair. There was no point in making an effort to look nice; girls would not notice him anyway. The redhead was feeling extremely deflated at the moment. He would always be second, third, fourth, fifth, but never first. He would never ever be at the top. He would never be famous, and he would never have the instant popularity that he so longed for. Never ever ever…

Ron blinked his eyes to get rid of the disgusting crust that had formed over them during the night. Then, he rubbed his mouth a bit. A crust had developed there as well, because he had been drooling. He really was not attractive. Ron was as gruesome in appearance as an unshaven hag. All that he had going for him was his height, but that was about it. Ron wondered if any girl would ever like him. He doubted it. Perhaps girls like Eloise Midgen would, but Ron had really high standards. He only dated good-looking girls, but no good-looking girls would date him. Lavender Brown was an exception, but she wasn't good-looking in Ron's opinion. Besides, she was a slut! And he never liked her anyway. He just used her to assure himself that he was a man, and the girls liked him, but now that he thought back on it, Lavender liked him only because he was the Chosen One's best friend! How demeaning! That strumpet!

Ron was deathly hungry. He decided to go down to the Great Hall for some lunch. Then, maybe, he'd go see Harry if the line wasn't too long. Hermione was probably already at Harry's bedside. Ron felt a pang of jealously at this, but he shrugged it off. He left the dorm… Was it his imagination or were people singing "Weasley is the King" in the distance? Perhaps it was that untrustworthy mind of his again…