Author's note–Sigh- (story now edited) Okay…well, I'm not too sure of how much I like this one. So, if you're reading it for the first time, I'd just like to alert you to the fact that this was like, the third fanfic I ever wrote (that I considered decent enough to post, anyway) and I was young and inexperienced. So there is much OOC-ness and so on. But…I still think it's pretty cute, even if it's nothing like Ron and Hermione. SO, just keep that in mind while you're reading.
Also – THIS IS NOT HBP-COMPLIANT.
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I'd be rich enough to hire an assassin to kill off my science teacher by now.
Felix
It is breakfast time. Not that this is an abnormal occurrence for the seventh years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It just happens to be the day that could quite possibly decide the fate of two such seventh years. Their romantic fates anyway. And it is all down to one boy: Harry James Potter. Hero of the Wizarding World, The Chosen One, The Boy Who Lived, Most Eligible Bachelor (according to Witch Weekly), Best Hogwarts Seeker For Centuries, et cetera. But Matchmaker Supreme? Not Quite. Still, somehow, he has come up with a Scathingly Brilliant Idea, if he does say so himself. Not that he does say so. He could be wrong. Then Ginny might make fun of him. Ms. Ginevra Molly Weasley is his accomplice, partner-in-crime, whatever you want to call it. The Scathingly Brilliant Idea is actually hers, but she lets Harry take the credit. Why? Because it raises his self-esteem. At least, this is what she claims. Really, she just likes him. Unlike the two seventh years whose fates rest in her hands however, this is no problem, because said Boy Who Lived is also her boyfriend. So he really is not the Most Eligible Bachelor of the Wizarding World, as Witch Weekly claims. But we are getting off-topic.
Anyway, It's breakfast time. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger are sitting next to one another at the table, Ron shoveling food into his mouth and Hermione shielding herself behind the Daily Prophet. Her goblet of pumpkin juice is unattended. And Ron is too preoccupied with his own food to notice if any of Hermione's is taken for a minute or two. Perfect. Harry reaches across the table as quietly as he can and picks up the heavy glass. He pulls it back towards him and quickly hides it under the tablecloth. Ginny, who is sitting next to him, pulls out a medium-sized bottle full of golden liquid from the inner pocket of her robes. She pours about a fourth of the potion into Hermione's goblet, then hands it back to Harry. He returns it to its original place on the table, thankfully unnoticed by Hermione, who it still buried deep in her paper. He then turns to Ron, who is still resolutely shoving forkfuls of pancakes into his mouth. Ron does not have a goblet in front of him yet. This could prove to be a tiny problem, as they can't really spike his drink if he doesn't have one. So Harry reaches out, grabs the nearest jug of pumpkin juice and pours a gobletfull for his friend. He then hides it under the table and he and Ginny repeat the same process with the golden bottle. Harry turns back to Ron.
"Pumpkin juice, mate?" he says innocently. Ron shakes his head.
"I'd rather have orange juice," he says. "Where's the pitcher?" They look up and down the table, in search of the orange juice. They finally locate it, about ten feet along, between the Creevey brothers. Ron begins to get up to retrieve it, but Harry is faster.
"I'll get it!" he says, inconspicuously taking the bottle of potion from Ginny under the table. Before Ron can stand, Harry is racing down the table, pumpkin juice still in hand. Ron shrugs and continues to eat. By the time he reaches the Creeveys, the front of his white school shirt is soaked with pumpkin juice. But it seems to dry in a manner of seconds, and you can barely see the stains. He thinks for a moment about how lucky that is, McGonagall would've killed him if he'd come to class with an orange-stained shirt. Then he remembers exactly what is in that pumpkin juice.
"Hey, Colin," he says, "Can I have the orange juice?" Colin looks up and shrugs.
"Sure," he says, "but do you know where the pumpkin juice is?" Harry looks at the goblet in his hand. It is still relatively full…luckily, he thinks.
"You can have this," he says, figuring, what the hell, it's not going to kill him to give Colin a good day too, is it? Colin frowns at the glass. "No one's drunk from it yet," Harry says hastily. Colin shrugs again, takes it, and passes Harry the orange juice. Harry thanks him and fills a nearby goblet. As he walks back to Ron, Ginny and Hermione, he somehow manages to add some of the golden potion to it without anyone noticing. He sits back down next to Ginny and hands Ron the goblet.
"Thanks, mate," Ron says, raising it to his lips.
"No problem," Harry grins, winking at Ginny. She winks back, just as, across the table, Hermione takes a sip from her own goblet, blissfully unaware of her friends' plotting and planning.
Ron is heading down to Potions with Hermione and Harry, but even the familiar slime that coats the dungeon walls can't put a damper on his mood. He's had the most incredible day. Everything just seems to be going his way. He hasn't gotten into a single argument with Hermione; in fact, they've been flirting all day, which is a rarer occurrence than you might think. He's gotten back his Transfiguration essay, and he's gotten an 'O' on it, something that has certainly never happened before, and caused Hermione to give him a kiss on the cheek when he proudly announced it to her during lunch. He also remembered every name he'd needed on his History of Magic exam, though he didn't study. They reach the Potions dungeon and take their seats. Snape stands up.
"Today, we will be starting to make the very complex Polyjuice potion," he says. "Can anyone tell me what the most prominent ingredient in the Polyjuice potion is?" He looks around the room. Hermione's hand shoots up. She's the only one who knows. Well, Harry and Ron both know too, they're just too lazy to bother. "No one?" Snape says. "Pity. The most prominent ingredient is – "
"Boomslang skin," Hermione mutters bitterly, putting her hand dawn. Most unfortunately, Snape hears her. He glares at her for a minute, then he says,
"Miss Granger, did I ask for your opinion?"
"No but, you asked the cla – "
"Miss Granger, that is the second time you have spoken out of turn today. Please join me down here tonight so we can have a little discussion about this problem of yours. And while we're at it, you can serve a detention for me." Ron's blood boils. He jumps up.
"Sir, you asked us a question. Hermione knows the answer, but you ignore her, and then punish her when she tries to answer you! How is that fair?" Snape's face turns dark red.
"Well, Mr. Weasley, as you're so concerned about Ms. Granger, you can join her in detention tonight." Ron opens his mouth again, but Snape cuts him off. "That's enough Mr. Weasley, there will be no more discussion of the matter. Everyone will please take out their textbooks and turn to page five-hundred and ninety-eight." The class follows his directions, grumbling darkly as they do so. Harry frowns. Is the Felix Felicis wearing off already? Why would the potion allow Ron and Hermione to get detention with their least favourite teacher? But he knows Ginny put in enough for an entire day, twenty-four hour's worth. Maybe even more. He decides it must just be the work of Felix, and everything will go well…hopefully.
At seven 'o clock, Ron and Hermione head down to the dungeons, both scowling ferociously. Neither wants to be with Snape. They both think it is a complete waste of time: Hermione has a good book waiting for her in the dorm, and Ron is missing Quidditch practice. It would even have been fine if they could work together, but they know Snape will separate them. When they reach Snape's door. Ron pulls it open, gestures for Hermione to go first, then follows her in and shuts the door behind them. She thinks he's being a gentleman, but really, he's just afraid of Snape and doesn't want to be the first to face him. Snape is sitting at his desk, grading papers. Ron glances at the one on top. It's Harry's and there's a big red "T" at the top. Ron glares at Snape. He knows how much Harry wants to be an Auror, and he knows how hard Harry worked on that essay. He thinks he might punch Snape out if Harry's dream is crushed by the greasy git. Snape looks up at the pair of them, then smirks. Ron is rather repulsed by how yellow his teeth are.
"Ah, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger," Snape sneers. "You will be cleaning the desks. I had a rather messy group of first years in here my last class, and they haven't yet learnt to clean up properly, I'm afraid." Ron scowls and Hermione frowns, but they must do as they're told.
After about half an hour, McGonagall's magically magnified voice comes thundering through the dungeon.
"Would all professors please report to the staff room for an emergency meeting? Thank you." Snape stands up, then looks at Ron and Hermione.
"You two will stay here and finish your detention. No talking," he says, then rushes out of the room. Ron looks up once he's gone and stops scrubbing. He decides he can take bit of a break now that Snape has left. He looks at Hermione, and realizes that the situation they are in could be perceived as highly suggestive, even romantic – stuck in an empty classroom alone, just the two of them. Although it is currently completely innocent, Ron still thinks of it as being rather...well, not innocent. Hermione always looks beautiful to him, even now, while she is sweating profusely and scowling at the desk beneath her. He admires the way her long curly hair hangs in her face, obscuring her big brown eyes. He watches her thin arms, her tiny wrists and her small hands, clutching the scrub brush, and wonders how it would he to hold those small hands in his own. She becomes uneasy, feeling his gaze on her.
"Ron, why are you watching me?" She stops scrubbing the wood beneath her and looks up at him. His mouth drops open slightly, and he begins to stutter, looking slightly like a fish.
"I wasn't – I mean, Why would I – what are you – because you're pretty!" It just bursts out of him and he covers his mouth in horror. Hermione, however, giggles.
"You think I'm pretty?" She asks, blushing slightly. Ron nods, his ears turning red as he does so. Hermione puts down the brush and walks over to him. "Really?" She asks, thinking it might all be some strange sort of joke. Ron nods again. She takes one of his hands in her own and begins to trace light circles absentmindedly into the rough skin of his palm. She's been doing this a lot lately, particularly when she'd thinking about what to say next.
"Well, I think you're kind of cute." Her eyes widen and she blushes more deeply. Where did that come from? It's as if some sort of outside force is controlling her, but somehow, she knows this is the right thing to say, even if it's completely un-Hermioneish. She looks up at him, he's sort of grinning, and he takes her other hand in his own.
"Really, Miss Granger?" he says, teasingly. "And exactly what about me is so – ahem – cute?" She doesn't hesitate but answers,
"Your hair." She lets go of one of his hands to brush some of his red hair out of his eyes. "I like the way I hangs in you face." She grins. "And your eyes. They're the deepest shade of blue I've ever seen."
She is blushing furiously now, has no idea where these things tumbling out of her mouth are coming from, but somehow she feels like she can't say anything wrong. Ron grins. He studies her flushed face, then says,
"Your cheeks are a rather brilliant shade of red. D'you think you need the hospital wing, Miss Granger?" She smiles.
"No Mr. Weasley, I'm perfectly fine, thank you." He smirks.
"Are you sure? Maybe I ought to examine you myself. He puts both hands on her hips. "Hmm." He says, pretending to be in deep thought. "You're breathing rather harder than normal." This is obviously because of their close proximity, but Ron continues nonetheless. He pulls her flush against him and says, "Your heart's beating rather faster than normal as well." She looks up at him, just as he bends his head.
"Perhaps it's because I'm infatuated with you." She says in a rather dreamy voice. Then she looks horrified and begins to pull away. Ron however, grins and holds her tightly, so she can't break free.
"Really now, Miss Granger? I never would've guessed. She opens her mouth to reply, but his lips crash down on hers, and all rational thought leaves her mind.
Twenty minutes later, Colin Creevey pushes open the dungeon door. Snape has sent him down to tell Ron and Hermione that they may leave detention if they are finished. When he sees what they are doing, his mouth drops open and he thinks ruefully of the camera he left on his bedside table…or did he? He glances down and realizes that it's hanging around his neck. Something told him to take it with him. He raises the camera…
It is breakfast time again. But there is something different this morning. This morning, breakfast is full of unusual occurrences. It is Friday, which means it is the day that the first ever issue of The Phoenix Feather, the brand new, student-run, official school paper of Hogwarts, is being delivered to every student and teacher in the Great Hall. Colin Creevey is the main photographer. Harry picks up the paper from the floor, where it fell from the talons of the tawny post owl that delivered it. A big grin spreads across his face. He looks at Ginny. She is grinning as well. The entire Gryffindor table is grinning, actually. Ron's ears are red and Hermione is hiding her face in her hands. Students are running around, collecting bets. Then Ron grins and blurts,
"What the hell!" He stands up, grabs Hermione and kisses her deeply. Everyone cheers, and Harry can make out Professor Dumbledore, up at the head table, wolf whistling. He turns to Ginny.
"Looks like Colin got pretty lucky." Ginny just smiles.