Chapter Four: The Restricted Section

A/N: To everyone who's been so patient, and sent me very sweet reminders to update, this one's for you! :) Anya, I feel your pain. I am slow. I am sorry. :)

Harry was very quiet that evening at dinner as Ron and Hermione discussed their planned trip to the Restricted Section that night. They agreed in conspiratorial whispers that because there was no longer room for three under Harry's invisibility cloak, Harry and Hermione would go and Ron would stay behind.

"All right, Harry?" asked Ron.

"Hmm?" said Harry, dragging his attention back to his friends. "Yeah, sure." Ron shot Hermione a look as Harry returned to staring down the table at Ginny.

The youngest Weasley was eating bread and butter – not the sexiest thing in the world, you might think, but only if you'd never seen Ginny do it. She'd pick a piece up and after each bite she would delicately lick the tips of her fingers. Harry had noticed this before, before the potion. Then he had just thought it was cute. Now a little thing like that could make him long to run over and kiss her.

"Harry?"

"Wh-?" To Harry's surprise he realised that he'd begun to push his chair back to stand up. Attempting to get a grip on himself, he tried to concentrate on his dinner.

Harry let Ron and Hermione's conversation drift over his head as he stared at his plate, contemplating what it would take to get rid of this – this feeling. Tonight's trip to the Restricted Section looked like his last chance before they were forced to go to McGonagall and ask for help. Please, please let us find an antidote, he prayed numbly.

It was Ginny who noticed Harry beginning to nod off at the table. He'd looked exhausted all evening, and as she watched his eyes began to struggle to stay open and his head drooped slightly. Ginny tried to fight back a grin as his nose approached his shepherd's pie.

What hell he was going through she couldn't begin to imagine. This afternoon, after she was sure Harry and Hermione would be gone, she'd gone to the library to find out everything she could about love spells. Without knowing it, she had come to exactly the same conclusions as Hermione about it probably being a potion. From what she had read, it was clear that being under the influence of a love potion could be a most unpleasant experience for all involved. At least Harry was a good, stable person. She'd read of some people losing all control under the strength of the love that was forced upon them, and harming themselves and others when the object of their affection did not return their feeling. No risk of that here, she thought wryly.

Harry yawned, and seeing it Ginny couldn't help yawning too. He glanced over, saw her and grinned. Ginny smiled back. She hadn't been sleeping too well herself recently.

Just then Ron and Hermione, who had been engaged in a muttered conversation, nudged Harry, and all three began to whisper secretively. She'd known the three of them long enough to know that they were planning something, and she bet she knew what it was. They were going to sneak into the Restricted Section to find an antidote, she was sure of it. Her brother and Hermione seemed to be trying to convince Harry of something, because he looked annoyed and eventually resigned as the pair talked to him. The Hogwarts corridors were a dangerous place late at night, what with Filch and Mrs. Norris constantly roaming around. She hoped they weren't going to do anything stupid.

Harry couldn't sleep that night. Too tired to sneak to the Restricted Section indeed, he thought bitterly, turning over and bashing his pillow into shape, trying to get comfortable. He'd been in bed for what seemed like hours, tossing and turning, and not once had he felt tired. Ron and Hermione still weren't back. That could mean they'd found something to work with, but on the other hand it could mean they'd been caught by Filch and were being strung up in leg irons in the dungeons.

Harry looked at the glowing dial of his digital watch. It was nearly two in the morning, and Ron and Hermione had planned to leave at 12. It must have been later than that, though, because Ron had fallen asleep and Hermione had had to sneak up to the boys' dormitory to wake him in an angry whisper.

"Ron. Ron!" she'd hissed. Ron had grunted and grumbled and eventually reached a sufficient state of consciousness to remember about the Restricted Section, and be suitably embarrassed that Hermione was crouching within the curtains of his four-poster bed. "Is Harry asleep?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, he dropped right off," replied Ron, and there were rustling noises as he pulled his school robes on over his pyjamas. Harry begged to differ. Just because he'd stopped replying to Ron's continual muttered enquiries of 'Are you asleep yet?' it didn't mean he'd actually been asleep.

Frustrated, Harry rolled over again, tangling up the twisted sheets even more. He'd barely slept more than a few hours since the potion – or, what they assumed was a potion – had taken hold two days ago. How was it that during the day he was sleepy and disorientated and totally distracted, and during the night he was wide-awake and alert and restless? It wasn't fair. He didn't want to think about Ginny all the time – he wanted to be normal again and think about Quidditch and lessons and how much he hated Snape. At the moment the only feeling he could summon towards Snape was a sort of mild dislike, as though all his emotions were being channelled into loving Ginny.

Ginny Weasley. She was perfection. Harry was acutely aware that it was only the spell making him feel like this, but at the same time a part of him wondered why he'd never noticed how great she was before. Or maybe he had, but hadn't noticed he'd noticed. Maybe he'd liked her all along. Harry felt himself carried away by this train of thought. It was rather a pleasant one. It was a good feeling, knowing that he'd liked her even before someone cast a spell on him to make him. They'd worked together on the Quidditch team all this year, hadn't they? They'd talked, they'd got along, been friends. But now that just wasn't enough for Harry.

Ginny woke up very suddenly, as though some noise had awakened her She listened intently, but the only sound was the deep breathing of the sleepers in the other four beds. She fumbled for her wand on the bedside table and by its light checked her watch. Just after two.

With a sigh put out her wand and settled back down in bed, closing her eyes and snuggling under the warm covers. Now, what had she been dreaming about? Something good, she was sure of it. There had been – what was it? But no, it slipped her memory completely and the harder she tried to recapture it the more it evaded her and the less she felt like sleeping.

She lay there trying to get back to sleep for what seemed an interminable length of time, getting hotter and more uncomfortable by the minute. In vain she lay there and tried to think of relaxing things, but every time she closed her eyes she only began to think of Harry and what danger he could be in wandering around the school at night. Filch could be out there now, catching him. The invisibility cloak couldn't possible cover all three of them! Eventually, her heart thumping hard in her chest though she wasn't sure why, she got up, pulled on her dressing gown and crept noiselessly from the dormitory.

Ginny had never been in the common room alone at night before. It was almost completely dark, with just the dimmest silhouettes of the furniture visible through the gloom. Gingerly she felt her way around the edge of the room and opened the velvet curtain a crack. The moon was almost full, casting an eerie light across the Hogwarts grounds, and the Forbidden Forest lurked at the edge of her vision, a dark and sinister presence.

She turned back to the room and her heart leaped in horror as a beam of moonlight illuminated a dark shape sitting in one of the chairs round the fire. Her heart thumping in her chest, Ginny froze, barely breathing lest she make a sound. For long, almost interminable moments time hung by a thread as she stood like a statue listening to the frantic drumming of her heart. Then someone snored.

Waves of relief rushing through her, Ginny cautiously approached the sleeper. "Lumos," she whispered, and her wand illuminated with a soft glow the comical form of Harry Potter asleep in a chair, head lolling to one side, mouth open. She had to fight back a nervous giggle at the sight. So he wasn't roaming the corridors, he was napping in an armchair. Did that mean they were back? Probably not. More likely Ron and Hermione had gone without him when they'd noticed how tired he was. Ginny grinned, relieved, and gently picked up the heavy book that had fallen flat in his lap, 'Magical Theory, Volume XXIV' by B. B. Warffler. No wonder he'd dropped off.

Just then Harry grunted and muttered something that sounded like 'mimblewimble.' Trying to make as little noise as possible Ginny groped for a table on which to put down the book. As she found the table the tips of her fingers encountered something that slipped out of her reach, and too late Ginny realised that she'd accidentally knocked over someone's pile of Exploding Snap cards. There was a succession of sharp 'cracks' as the deck slipped over, and Harry jerked awake, muttering something about buttered toast and ice cream.

"Wha-?" Harry muttered, and looked woozily around him, wondering with a slight edge of panic where he was and how he'd got there.

"Ssshhh!" hissed Ginny, and Harry sprang awake as it all came flooding back at the unexpected sight of her. He'd settled down to wait for Ron and Hermione, completely unable to sleep and desperate to know what they'd found out. But he must have dropped to sleep, and now –

"What are you doing here?" he asked in a hushed voice, wondering if it was wrong to be wondering what exactly Ginny was wearing under her dressing gown.

"I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep," she whispered ruefully. "You don't think that noise will have woken anyone else up, do you?"

Harry was about to say he didn't think so when there was a slight noise coming from the direction of the portrait hole. "Er, I think so," he said hurriedly as the two of them jumped up in alarm.

"Quick," Ginny hissed and grabbed his hand, dragging him behind one of the heavy red drapes that covered the windows at night. They extinguished their wands and waited in breathless silence, and what with all the excitement it took Ginny a moment to realise just how close they were standing, and that she was still holding his hand. Unfortunately Harry was all too aware of Ginny's proximity, especially as he couldn't help but notice that her dressing gown had slipped open a little. He wouldn't have seen it in the pitch black, but his hand had happened to brush across her chest in the rush to get behind the curtain and he was certain that the fabric of her dressing gown didn't feel quite as warm and soft and smooth as-

Harry cut off the thought and shrank back a little, and at the same time Ginny dropped his hand like it was a hot coal. In the silence their breathing seemed deafening, and Ginny was sure Harry must be able to hear the wild thumping of her heart. She was acutely aware of his presence at her side – she couldn't think, she could barely breathe, his dark shape seemed to eclipse everything else, even the threat of discovery; and for a moment Ginny wondered if this was what a love potion must feel like.

There was another sound from the direction of the portrait hole, a sort of scratching and fumbling, and Ginny instinctively leaned closer to Harry for support. At the same time he turned towards her and the result was that his lips clumsily grazed her forehead, sending a shiver through both of them. Ginny froze and then, hardly knowing what she was doing, she leaned back her head to look at him. A ray of moonlight from the window illuminated them for a moment, and in that moment it looked as if he were about to kiss her. Ginny's whole body seemed to tremble.

Just then the portrait burst open and Ron's voice broke the silence. "Bloody passwords," he muttered.

"Shush, Ron, you'll wake somebody up!" came Hermione's whispered voice as the pair climbed through the portrait hole.

Harry gave a little gasp and stepped quickly backward.

There was a silence. "Hello? Is there anyone there?" Hermione asked quietly.

Several choice swear words entered Ginny's head. Of all the places she and Harry could have been when her brother and Hermione got back, why did it have to be half-concealed behind a curtain in the small hours of the morning?

Slowly, she and Harry emerged, guilt written all over their faces.

Harry didn't feel much like eating the next morning, even though the entire Gryffindor team had been up at the crack of dawn for an early Quidditch practice. The rest of the team were tucking into a cooked breakfast at the Gryffindor table, but for some reason Harry couldn't bring himself to make more than a half-hearted attempt to eat. Ron shot him a funny look across the table, but didn't say anything. For a moment last night Harry had been sure Ron was about to punch him, but instead he had gone all tight-lipped and quiet. Hermione had been very understanding about it all, of course, but Ron had been treating him funny all morning, giving him these odd looks and frowning as if he was deep in thought.

"Cheer up, you two," Hermione said as she sat down beside Ron. "We might have drawn a blank last night, but there's got to be something else we can do. If I ask Professor Snape-"

Harry recoiled in horror. "Snape?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I was going to say if I ask Professor Snape, he might let me look at his private collection of potions books. I'll need them anyway if I want to get top marks on my extra Sansubstification Solutions essay. What do you think?"

"Sounds good," said Harry dully, pushing his plate away. "I might go back to the Common Room." And without waiting for a reply he got up and left the Great Hall.

Hermione and Ron exchanged a worried glance. "To be honest, Hermione," Ron began, looking guilty. "To be honest, I know you're really good with the potions and everything, bit if there was nothing in the Restricted Section, why would there be anything in Snape's private stuff? What would Snape be doing with a love potion?"

"I don't know, but it's better than nothing, surely?" Hermione replied, looking a little surprised.

Ron shook his head. "I don't know, Hermione. I mean, you're a genius and everything but maybe we need to accept that we need the teachers' help for a change." Hermione looked astounded. "I mean," continued Ron, "Harry can't go on like this. It's not fair on him or Ginny. He can't even concentrate, you should have seen him in Quidditch this morning, and Ginny was almost as bad."

"Ron, if this is about the match with Slytherin…" began Hermione darkly.

"It's not!" insisted Ron. "Not totally. Think about his NEWT work. He's not eating, he's not sleeping, he's… looking at Ginny all the time…"

"So it's about him and Ginny? If it were anyone else but her he'd fallen for, would you be acting differently?"

Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I dunno, Hermione, but Harry's not himself and you know it. I reckon we should go to McGonagall. Otherwise what if we can never get the spell off him?"

Hermione gave a weary sigh and rested her head in her hands. "I suppose you're right."

Harry hurried along the corridor, totally occupied thinking about Ginny. Why had he allowed himself to almost kiss her? Why had she let him? Part of him was insisting that he mustn't let it happen again while another, equally insistent part told him that he'd done nothing wrong, only react to his feelings, and what feelings they were! Being so close to Ginny in the dark had brought sensations to the surface he hadn't known were possible. Not taking her in his arms and kissing her had required a truly Herculean effort.

Just then Harry bumped into someone. He looked up.

"Harry!" It was Cho Chang, and he'd knocked a pile of books and papers from her arms.

"Sorry," he said distractedly, bending down to help her pick them up.

"You look like you're in a hurry to get somewhere," she remarked, hurriedly gathering up the books and pieces of parchment.

He looked vaguely at her. "What? Oh, not really."

She looked oddly at him. "Take care, alright Harry?"

He barely heard her. "Hmm."

When Harry got back to Gryffindor Tower all he felt like doing was sleeping. What with last night's escapade and the early rise this morning, he felt like he could sleep for a week. As he lay down on his bed, still wearing his Quidditch robes, Harry felt a hard lump in his pocket as he began to drift off. He rolled drowsily over and stuck a hand into his pocket, only to withdraw Ron's Quidditch flask. For a moment Harry drew a blank. How had that got there?

Then he remembered Ron asking him to bring it back to the Common Room for him. Harry had found the flask where Ron had left it in the boys' changing rooms, and then – Harry's stomach flipped over as he realised the vital clue that he had completely forgotten about. He had drunk the pumpkin juice which Ron had not had time to drink himself.

Heart beating madly, Harry opened the flask. Inside were several drops of bright orange liquid. This could be the only way he had ingested the potion. This flask held the clue to Harry's enchantment.

Harry literally ran back to the dining room, but Hermione and Ron were gone. When he asked a couple of fifth years whether they'd seen them, he found that they had left a few minutes ago. "Sounded like they were arguing about something," said one. "Not that I was eavesdropping or anything," he added, quailing slightly at Harry's expression. "Only then Weasley got up and said he was going to see McGonagall."

To Be Continued…