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Chapter Six
"It has to be a mistake," Harry said quickly. After the Quidditch practice the trio had reunited in the Gryffindor common room, Ron's arm slung casually over Hermione's shoulder, and had recounted the earlier scene. Harry had listened with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, commenting and encouraging them in the appropriate places and smiling at their obvious happiness. As soon as Ron had gone off to bed though, Harry had been quick about sharing his doubts. It couldn't be right, he was sure of it. It was just so unlike Ron. Hermione however was a little more than annoyed. She looked at Harry in shock, her eyes narrowing into tiny, disapproving slits.
"And why is that? Am I so unlovable that something like this could never happen to me?" Hermione demanded, folding her arms over her chest defensively. Harry sighed, shaking his head.
"Hermione, you know I didn't mean it like that. I simply meant that that wasn't Ron. True he's loved you for years, but he has never—would never—do something that daring. And in front of Lavender and Parvati? Come on Hermione, be reasonable." Despite her anger, she had to admit that it was pretty unusual for Ron. He wasn't exactly the best at sharing his feelings. Especially in front of others, others who were likely to have the whole school buzzing in a matter of minutes. Hermione groaned inwardly at the thought of Lavender and Parvati. No doubt they had already spread the story through the entire house or worse, the school. By breakfast Hermione knew that everyone would be talking about it; staring at her with sidelong glances and knowing smirks. How could I have not known it wasn't genuine? Hermione asked herself. I knew that Ron would never have opened himself up like that if he wasn't positive of how I would react. Silently she cursed herself for letting the romantic side of her brain temporarily blind the scholarly side.
"I suppose you're right Harry," she mumbled in defeat, flopping heavily onto a nearby chair. He shrugged apologetically as if he regretted voicing his doubts. He hadn't wanted to make Hermione angry. He had just been concerned for Ron.
"Now I guess the question is; why would he do that? I mean, what would suddenly make him so…eager?" Hermione shrugged.
"Maybe he realized that I wasn't going to wait around forever and he better get his arse in gear if he ever wanted a chance with me," Hermione said bitterly, having lost all the raw giddiness she had been brimming with earlier. She knew deep down that Harry was right. She just didn't want to admit how blind she had been. Harry sighed loudly, sitting in the chair across from Hermione.
"If you aren't going to help me figure this out…." He warned tiredly. Quidditch practice had gone late and he had loads of homework to do. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Hermione's sulkiness.
"Fine, fine, I'll help you figure this out," Hermione snapped, sitting up in the chair. She faced the warm fire, brushing her hair away from her face. She knew that she had to focus if she wanted to figure anything out but she was having trouble clearing her head. A moment ago her head had been dancing with possibilities; for a moment Ron had finally felt like she had for so many years. Not only felt it either, he had admitted it to her with such unbridled passion that it was hard not to get swept up in the moment. Think Hermione, she told herself, trying to take in all of the facts. When did the change occur? That's easy, right after we left the pub. He was acting all funny and giddy when we were parting and then he just conked out once we got him home. Hermione made a mental note of this and continued. What are some of his symptoms? Well, besides his declaration of love (which couldn't possibly be an honest admittance); she glared at Harry who was thinking by himself, he had been acting funny, and sort of lightheaded. He was loud and could barely keep his eyes off me. Hermione bit her lip, turning the facts over in her head. Now that everything was laid out in front of her they did seem a little fishy. God, I was stupid, Hermione scolded herself; I was so swept up in the moment I didn't even realize that he was acting so strange.
"Have you though of anything?" Harry asked suddenly, breaking Hermione's train of thought. She rolled her eyes in annoyance.
"Have you?" She asked, her voice laden with sarcasm. He shrugged.
"Actually, I was thinking maybe it was something he ate. Like, maybe the butterbeer was bad or something. The brews are just added to, never cleaned out. You don't know how long that pot had been sitting out—or how much magic it has been exposed to. Those kinds of pubs are filled with all sorts of magic." Hermione looked at Harry skeptically, one eyebrow raised.
"You think that Ron suddenly decided to declare his love for me because of food poisoning?" The doubt was evident in Hermione's dry tone. Harry shrugged and turned back towards the fire, trying to come up with a more suitable solution. Suddenly, something that Harry had said clicked in Hermione's brain. Maybe it was something he ate…you don't know how much magic it has been exposed to.
"That's it!" Hermione cried loudly. It explains everything; the sudden lightheadedness, the sleepiness, the sudden declaration of love.
"What, what's 'it'?" Harry asked, turning once more to face his friend. Hermione however was too excited to explain. She looked at the clock in the common room, its long spindly fingers depicting a somber hour. Hermione bit her lip. There was no way she would be able to get into the library this late. Even if she did manage to sneak past the patrol around the hallways the library had long been closed. Still, she knew she wouldn't be able to get to sleep now—not with the discovery she had just made.
"Harry, I have to research this. I think I know what's wrong with him!" Hermione stuttered excitedly. Her head was going a mile a minute—she could barely piece together a simple sentence. All of the resentment she had been feeling earlier about not really being loved had been pushed down to accommodate her thirst for knowledge—for the truth.
"Hermione, what's going on? What's wrong with Ron?" Harry pressed eagerly, impatient to know what Hermione was going on about.
"Harry don't you see—it was something Ron drank at that stupid pub!" Hermione was saying in a distracted tone. She had bigger things to think about—how she was going to break into the library for instance—and she couldn't be sidetracked trying to explain the situation to Harry. Harry, for his part, was sufficiently confused.
"Hermione!" He said, grabbing her by the shoulders. She stared straight at him, thinking vaguely how it was the second time she had been grabbed like that in one day. "Hermione, breathe okay? Now, tell me slowly. What is wrong with Ron?" Hermione took in a deep breath, calming the nerves that had been running on high for the past minute or two.
"It was something in his drink—don't you see?" Hermione asked. When she still received a blank look from Harry she sighed. "A love potion Harry—Ron was slipped a love potion."
