Chapter 13: Love Potion Number 9

"So, are you going to tell me what this is about?" asked Harry.

He was sitting in the twins' office, which doubled as their laboratory. They were surrounded by several tables with inventions in various states of completion, with bubbling potions and squeaking toys and floating things that somehow weren't as chaotic as they should have been. It wasn't as nice as his laboratory, though, and that was the important thing. His had a bigger bookshelf.

The twins stood in front of him, hands clasped solemnly behind their backs. One of the twins—George, maybe—said, "We've been meaning to tell you this, but our profit margins…"

"They're not as wide as they should be," finished Fred. "And that's because of the back orders of love potions. We're getting a lot of complaints."

Harry shrugged. "Yes, well, you did promise them a month ago. What's wrong?"

"We can't get the formula right. If it works at all, it's too strong, and the antidote only counteracts that half the time."

"Uh huh," said Harry, folding his arms. "Are you asking me to help you fix it? Because I already told you, I'm not getting involved in this project."

"Yes, we know, you don't approve of love potions. But it's an important component of pranks and trickery, and the people demand it. We think we can fix it but…" They trailed off.

Harry sighed. "So, you want money then. I offered you a set amount of funding to complete this project, and I'm not increasing it. I've told you before about the sunk cost fallacy, and just because you've put a lot of work into something, doesn't mean you should keep throwing time and money away trying to fix it. If you want, I'll help you smooth things over with the back orders. Let's offer them something else from our stock, or perhaps we could bring back a limited edition item. Better yet, why don't you give me a list of the students' names, and I'll see if I can find—"

"We can't give up, Harry," said Fred, shaking his head. "This has gotten too big, and we don't want money from you. We have a few promising love potions that we think are ready for human testing. So…you're here to help us with that."

It suddenly occurred to Harry that he was completely alone in this room with the twins, whose hands were suspiciously hidden behind their backs. Harry slowly reached for his wand. "Hold on, what exactly are you asking me to do? Do you want me to help facilitate testing the product on students? Because that's completely unethical."

"No!" the twins shook their heads. "Of course not. It's only right that we test the product on a willing subject, someone who has interests at stake of making sure this works correctly."

"Ahh. I see." He stood up.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving. You said willing test subject, and that is not me. Ever. If you want to turn yourselves into lovestruck fools, be my guest, but I won't be a part of it. Goodbye."

Harry was a few steps from his freedom when he heard a soft knocking.

"Come in," said George.

Neville peered inside. "Hello, everyone. Harry, what are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" asked Harry.

"The Weasley twins said they needed help, so I came, and—"

"Umm, Neville," Harry blocked the doorway with his arm, holding him back. "Perhaps we should talk outside—"

"Hey!" cried a girl's voice. "Would you move, already?"

Harry stepped back as the girl shoved past both Neville and Harry, then brushed her curls back over her shoulders. Harry recognized her as a Gryffindor 4th year who spent time with Ginny, but he couldn't remember her name. She stood opposite the twins, hands on her hips, and said, "Hello Weasleys. Shall we begin?"

"Okay, I'm really confused," said Harry. "Is she your test subject?"

"Yes," said Fred. "We are going to dose ourselves with the love potion—"

"And we need Romilda Vane to give it to us," said George. "To see if we fall in love with her."

"She's a good match for this test, since collectively, our attraction for her is 0%."

Romilda snorted. "Well, same to you. I don't like gingers."

"But—" said Harry, his brain spinning. "Why did you call us then?"

"Because, we need you to make sure nothing untoward happens."

"Ummm…." said Harry.

"For example," said Fred, who was rummaging through a drawer. "We don't want to have any physical contact with the test subject. No matter how much we beg you or threaten to harm ourselves. Also, if we turn purple and start foaming at the mouth, we would appreciate it if you would Floo us to Saint Mungos."

Harry was really regretting coming here. He should have just stayed with Hermione in his lab. Maybe he could contact her and ask her to use the time turner to burst into the room at this exact moment, set off a smoke bomb, and evacuate everyone with the excuse that Hogwarts was on fire. But then, if the twins saw her, they might try to get Hermione involved as a test subject. And just maybe, Hermione might feel obligated to help

No, he'd gotten himself into this mess, and he would get himself out.

"Listen, I appreciate the amount of trust you have in us, but I'm afraid it's not something we're comfortable doing. Right, Neville?"

Neville folded his arms. "If you want to leave, that's fine. But I promised to help, and I don't back out on my friends. It's not the way of Hufflepuffs."

Harry sighed. "You know, sometimes it's okay to—"

"Harry, listen," said George, who had dug up some rope and tape. "We need you both. Neville is strong, and you're smart. Together, you should be able to make certain the operation is a success."

Harry eyed them warily. A poorly designed love potion brought terrible side effects—lustful rage and a complete shutdown of the forebrain was one of them. He knew the Weasley twins were formidable wizards, and if push came to shove, they could probably break themselves out of any trap set for them. Neville wasn't strong enough to hold off two crazy, 7th year Gryffindor Chasers alone. It would take an incredibly cunning wizard to devise strategies that would keep them in line. And yes, that wizard was Harry.

He could spend all evening trying to talk them out of it, with small chance of success. Or, he could just get this over with.

"Fine," said Harry. "But just so you know, you owe me a big favour."

"Huzzah!" cried George.

"We knew we could count on you," said Fred. "Now, do whatever you think will keep us in line. We suggest tying us up and taking our wands."

Harry shook his head and got to work.


Considering the constraints, Harry thought his whole plan was quite comprehensive.

The twins had their wands removed from the room, along with all sharp and heavy objects. Their hands and feet were bound. They'd objected to having their mouths taped over (they were working on growing beards) and moving to another room (they had magical protection charms necessary for the experiment). They had also "somehow" become immune to silencing charms. This was inconvenient, but Harry would work around it.

After starting the experiment, Neville would keep his wand trained on them. Every five minutes, Harry would use his mirror to send a message to himself to confirm that all was well. If he didn't, then McGonagall would be informed immediately of injured students and to call St. Mungos. That was the plan Harry told everyone, while secretly, he had a Plan B for if his Auror mirror was stolen, and a Plan C if Neville got jinxed or love potioned and turned against him, and a Plan D if the room suddenly came to the twins' defence, like a guard dog or something…

And as for Plan E, Harry was really, really hoping not to have to resort to Plan E.

"Alright," said Harry, taking a final sweep of the room. "I think we're ready."

"Are you sure? Did you forget the kitchen sink?" asked Romilda. "Because we wouldn't want that."

"Neville, if you'll do the honours," said George, from his perch on a high backed chair, his arms tightly bound behind him.

Neville walked over to the cabinet, took two boxes of chocolates and two vials, and set them down on the table.

"I'll ask you one more time," said Harry. "Could you please reconsider doing this experiment together? That way, only one of you needs to turn green and start vomiting."

"It has to be like this," said Fred. "We do it together or not at all."

"Of course you do," sighed Harry, resigning himself.

Romilda came to the table and took the chocolates, saying the secret incantation inscribed on the back of the box, and then brought them to the tied up Weasleys. She fed them the chocolates, and then stepped back while the boys chewed.

"Come on, Cupid," said Fred.

"La la la," George sang.

And they waited. Romilda stood near the door, in case she needed to make a quick getaway.

Fred and George passed the time practicing their comedy routine, which Neville chuckled at, Harry assumed from an impulse to be polite. Romilda was picking at her nails, while Harry kept glancing impatiently at his watch.

"Looks like it's another dud," said George.

"Too bad," sighed Fred. "Suppose it's off to the pub with us."

"Seriously?" Romilda rolled her eyes. "That's it, I'm leaving."

"Wait," said Fred. "We need to make absolutely sure. Why don't you come closer?"

"Romilda, don't do that," said Harry, drawing his wand. "Neville, can you check their vital signs?"

Neville approached the twins, checking their pulse. "Their hearts are beating really fast, and their pupils look dilated."

"What does that mean?" asked Romilda.

There was a moment of tense silence, where no one moved or spoke. Harry clenched his wand, prepared to cast Somnium if the twins broke their bonds, his mind racing through all the ways this could go wrong.

Most wizards didn't experiment with love potions, and for good reason. They were notoriously volatile and could do anything to the Weasleys, including—in very rare cases—increasing their strength to Hulk-like proportions. Rapidly accessing his surroundings, Harry realized that Neville stood mere steps away from the twins, close enough that they could lunge and snap his wand. Romilda waited near the door, but she wouldn't be safe if the Weasleys found a way to block her in, break her legs, or simply summon her.

The twins had unpredictability and sheer force on their side, and Harry had squat. Dread built inside him as he realized he'd made a terrible mistake. He wanted a rope, so that he could hang his common sense.

Harry was so tense that he jumped at the low chuckle from the pair of tied up boys.

"What do you think it means, sweetie?" asked George.

"Aww, listen to that adorable voice," said Fred, chuckling.

"I'm adorable, huh?" she teased, cocking her hip. "Tell me more."

"Your eyes are like candy hearts," sang Fred. "They say, 'Be mine.'"

"Your face is like lemonade," countered George, straining in his seat to see her better. "It makes my lips pucker."

"Your lips are red like you just ate a popsicle." Fred grinned. "And I wish I was the popsicle."

"Oh, kinky," she said, beaming. "Now, this is more like it."

As Harry came down off his adrenaline, it occurred to him that he would have preferred green, rage filled Weasleys over this. It felt like someone had taken a soldering iron to his ears.

"Oh, Rommy, I loooove you!" sang Fred, in the tune of On Top of Old Smokey. "And both of your knees!"

"If you had SPA-GHE-TIII," continued George. "I'd grate you some cheese!"

This is not the way I go, thought Harry, gritting his teeth. This assault on my sanity will not be the end of me.

The plan was to wait exactly 20 minutes for the potion to take full effect, and then administer the antidote. This was to make sure the effects of the potion remained stable, merely impairing their ability to make rational decisions on a romantic level, rather than, say, turning them into rage zombies. This meant everyone had to sit through several more minutes of horrific jokes and off-key singing, at which point even Romilda looked annoyed. "I think you've covered every body part. Give it rest, yeah?"

"We can't rest until we've won your heart!"

"Come on, brown sugar, come closer and give us a kiss."

"Ohh, Ginny is going to freak out when she hears about this!" Romilda snickered. "Once we finish up here, can I take the leftover chocolate? I have plans for it."

"What?" Fred pouted. "But…you only share chocolate with me."

"Who is this other man?" growled George. "I'll punch him in the throat!"

"Romilda, you should leave now," said Harry. "We'll take care of the rest."

As soon as she left the room, Harry prepared the syringe. It was usually taken orally, but if Harry knew a way to "vanish" liquid without a wand, then the twins likely had a trick of their own. While Neville distracted them, Harry was to turn invisible and give them the shot.

"Hey, Fred," said Neville. "You know what I like most about Romilda? Her smile."

"Yeah," said Fred, with a dreamy sigh, then frowned. "Wait, why do you care?"

"Last week, we studied Transfiguration together. She kept smiling at me, and then she put her hand on my arm. I thought she'd kiss me, but—"

"Woah, kiss?" said George. "Are you the chocolate man?"

"Well…" said Neville.

"He's the chocolate man!" cried Fred. "Get him!"

"Somnium," said Harry from behind them, and the two boys fell asleep. He cast it one more time, just in case.

Harry plunged the syringe into Fred's arm, and then another into George's. They sat down to wait the five minutes until the potion took effect.

"So," said Neville. "Do you think food related pick up lines really work on girls?"


A few minutes later, the boys woke up.

"Hey," said Harry, tapping a message on his Auror mirror. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," said George, yawning. "I wouldn't mind going back to sleep."

"Me either," said Fred.

"Fred, George," said Romilda's voice. "Can you hear me?"

Instantly, their heads whirled around.

"Where are you, my pumpkin?" said Fred.

"We can't see you!" cried George.

Harry sighed. He got out the second syringe, with another dose of antidote, and put them both to sleep again. After administering it, he sat down, and Neville said, "We could just let them sleep it off?"

"Do you have 48 to 72 hours to waste on that? Because I don't. Besides, we still have three more doses before we reach the maximum safe amount."

"Well," said Neville. "Orally, that's true. But intravenously, they've almost hit the overdose limit."

There was a moment of silence.

"Did Professor Sprout tell you that?" asked Harry.

"No, Madam Pomfrey, while I helped clean her office." Harry could have kicked himself. Of course people who did the quests got the secret info. "Anyway, there's no way to tell what an overdose would do, so we have to assume the worst. Hope you packed some snack bars and reading material, this is going to be a long wait."

There was another moment of silence, in which Harry's brain shattered into a million pieces.

No…not Plan E!


Hour: 4

"Good Lord," said Harry, examining the antidote box they'd unearthed from the chaos. "One of the side effects is incontinence." He turned to Neville, face distraught. "What if they have to go to the bathroom?"

"Ummm...I believe there's a spell to help with that? What was it..."

George mumbled in his sleep, and Harry reflexively cast Somnium.

Harry's hand covered his face. "I'm not even sorry," he mumbled.


Hour: 8

"So, you're saying," said Harry, "that if I had given them smaller doses over a longer period, it might have worked?"

"It's possible. Professor Sprout mentioned something about it last week."

Harry's brain exploded.

"Arrrgh! Tell me, why is it that I make a comprehensive, well thought out plan, and I miss one detail, ONE, and the whole thing falls apart?"

"I don't know," said Neville, his voice sharp. "How is it I keep getting involved in everyone's stupid plots?"


Hour: 34

"Would you quit it?" sighed Harry. "Some people are trying not to go batshit crazy over here."

"But I need to practice," said Neville. "This is important to me."

"Fine," said Harry, through gritted teeth. It's not like his day could get any worse.

After a few minutes of mumbling to himself, Neville said, "Harry?"

"What?"

"I have some jokes prepared, but I can't figure out if they're good. Could you listen to ten different food puns and tell me which ones suck the least?"

"Food puns. Great. Hold on, let me bang my head against the wall first."

The twins shifted in their seats.

"What's this about food puns?" said Fred. "Great idea, I need new material to woo Romilda."

Harry sighed, casting Somnium. Both of the twins blinked slowly.

"Huh, looks like we're immune to Somnium now."

"Imagine that," said George. "Now, about those puns—have you considered saying them in haiku? We suggest the title 'Sweetest Romilda.'"

While Harry's mouth hung open, Neville said, "Hang on, I might have a plant based sleeping draught."

"Oh thank Merlin," said Harry. "I was afraid I was about to get sent to Azkaban for applying staples to mouths."


Hermione was at breakfast on Monday morning when Harry sat down beside her. He mumbled a greeting and shovelled food onto his plate.

"Hello," said Hermione, examining his dishevelled form. "So…did you help the Weasleys solve their problem?"

"Why yes," said Harry curtly. "They woke up an hour ago and proclaimed that they'd figured it out. If I'd known that drugs and a good night's rest were all that was needed, I could have given them a Xanax, read them a bedtime story and avoided all that nonsense."

"What happened?" asked Hermione.

"Let's just say," said Harry. "That I discovered my own personal form of hell. If adventure ever calls for me again, I'll just tell it I'm too busy doing real work with you."

There was silence for a few moments as they ate their breakfast. The boy on Harry's other side made a joke about his pancakes, and Harry winced.

"Hermione, how do you feel about food related pick-up lines?"

"Uhh…"

"Because those are now a banned topic of conversation, in case you were wondering."

Hermione looked down at her plate. "Alright, but Harry, I do want to tell you one thing."

"What?"

"It's grape to see you."

She fell into a giggle fit, while Harry stared at her with narrowed eyes. Then, he sighed.

"Orange you lucky that I'm such a kind, forgiving friend?" She started laughing even harder, her fist banging the table. He ruffled her hair, then said in wry tones. "Grape to see you too."


Neville strode down the hallway, hands flexing at his side, bracing himself for the scariest moment of his life.

Today, he was finally going to confess his feelings to his one true love.

He'd been daydreaming about this moment for so long, that there was no way it could be as amazing as he had imagined it. His favourite was the one where they flew away on Buckbeak to a forgotten island. As they explored the hidden treasures of nature and gazed at the setting sun, he would tell her how he'd loved her since the first moment he saw her. Then they would share stories, laugh, and fall asleep holding hands.

It was going to be so perfect. And yet, if love potions were about to descend upon Hogwarts, then he couldn't wait any longer. A simple confession in the common room would have to do. Hopefully they would still be able to at least hold hands.

He'd decided that wouldn't actually tell her the food related pick up line, but it kept rattling around in his head anyway. "If you were a vegetable, you'd be a cutecumber." It was too cheesy, even by his standards. He would love it if a girl would make up random puns for him, but that seemed like a little too much to ask for.

Finally, he was standing outside the door to her common room, hand poised to knock. If they let him in, it would be a sign.

He kept standing there, hand poised to knock.

As easily as he imagined his confession, he could see his rejection. She would laugh at him, mock him, call him pudgy (even though he'd outgrown it) and simple-minded (even though he did well in class). The sad truth was that Hufflepuff girls could date anyone they wanted, but no one wanted a Hufflepuff boy except other Hufflepuffs.

Slowly, his hand lowered, and he turned and walked away.