MEMORY VIAL 7: SPINNING BOTTLES & CUPID'S CAULDRON (YEAR 3)

It was the first weekend in December, and certain students from the four Houses had gathered in various places throughout the school to catch up on their social lives and idle about. Harry, Hermione, and Ron had joined a group of other second- and third-year students in an empty lecture hall on the first floor.

Draco and his gang, having picked up on the boisterous commotion coming from the other side of the classroom door, stalled on their way up to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Let's see what's going on in here," Malfoy said nosily while swaggering up to the oak door. He pushed it open a crack, giving himself, Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle just enough space to look in.

There were various students huddled in a wide circle demarcated by chalk on the floor behind them. A small black cauldron stood bubbling between Ron and Hermione, emitting cottony purple clouds of smoke like Fizzlefluff candy. At the center of the circle stood an empty Butterbeer bottle that someone had apparently smuggled from Hogsmeade during the year's first scheduled trip.

Harry was sitting among several Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. A handful of them appeared to be reassuring an anxious Neville Longbottom, whose entire face resembled a plump ripe tomato.

Intrigued, Malfoy shoved the door wide open to announce his arrival and paraded his four friends into the room. Pansy hung from his arm as usual, while Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise lumbered imperiously behind them. They strolled up to the circle, and everyone paused from the discussion about Neville to look apprehensively at the intruding brood of Slytherins.

Lisa Turpin from Ravenclaw appeared to be directing the game. Upon noticing them, she exuberantly motioned for them to join in, whispering to a distraught Hermione that the Slytherins' participation would add even more "juiciness" to an already nerve-racking game.

"More like more venom," Hermione commented indignantly.

Malfoy came to a halt as his friends fanned out on either side of him. He quietly said, "Not interested in playing, Turpin, but I am curious to see what the hell you stupid lot are up to."

Harry was sitting cross-legged in front of him at ten o'clock, and Draco glared down at him, infuriated that he failed to notice him at all.

Harry didn't look up even once when Lisa announced that Slytherin had volunteered a handful of fascinatingly grotesque specimens to the game, at which point everyone groaned, including Seamus Finnigan who complained, "But they'll ruin everything! They always do!"

Malfoy briefly considered joining in, if for no other reason than to get Harry to acknowledge he was there.

He took another step closer as the current players scooted aside at Lisa's command to make more room for the five dour-faced newcomers. After deciding he would not be playing after all—whatever this game was—he chose not to sit down with the other students.

"Go on, Neville! Give it a spin!" Hermione encouraged in her sweetest voice, ignoring the fact that the person she hated most after the Buckbeak incident was now casting his tall shadow over an otherwise perfectly fun game.

Wiping sweat from his forehead, Neville stretched a shaky hand out with his wand and gave it a flick, which sent the amber bottle into a grinding spin.

Glancing around, Malfoy noticed several of the girls clinching their eyes shut and muttering silent prayers to themselves. Smirking, Malfoy looked once more at Harry who seemed lost in concentration and was whispering something in Hermione's ear.

The bottle's neck eventually came to a stop. It was pointing at a curly-haired Ravenclaw girl, who hid her face behind her fingers and whimpered, "No…"

"Is this supposed to be Spin the Bottle?" Malfoy sneered. "The Muggle game?

"Only Longbottom's grandmother would ever want to kiss him," he jeered aside to his friends.

"You shouldn't talk about yourself that way, Malfoy," came Harry's casual voice from across the way. "I'm sure someone will want to kiss you. If not now, then certainly when you get back home and your mum runs up to greet you."

Patches of red broke out over Draco's face. A fit of snickering circulated the room. Harry still wasn't looking at him, but was helping Hermione fold several tiny pink cuttings of parchment, which she was scooping into the cauldron in handfuls.

"At least he has a mother, Potter," said Pansy in a snooty tone. "And he's already taken, so he doesn't have to play a stupid kid's game like this one to convince me to kiss him."

"You're the only girl who would ever kiss him, Pansy," Harry said coolly, glancing up at her. "But you're not someone worth mentioning since you're practically his twin sister."

"How dare you!"

Pansy made as if to cross the circle, but Draco stopped her by holding his arm out to bar her path. "Leave him to me," Draco said, watching as Harry finished folding the last of the paper notes. "He won't get away with it, I promise."

"You see?" hissed Seamus, gesturing up at Malfoy. "I told you letting the Slytherins play would spoil all the fun."

"Come on, guys, let's not fight," said Ernie Macmillan. "Let's just have some fun and chat nicely while we're at it."

"Is he actually going to play?" Hermione asked Harry in a pained voice.

"Don't think so," Harry said. His eyes flicked up at Malfoy for a long moment, as if daring him to do so. "But you heard Lisa. He's more than welcome to, and I don't have a problem with it either. As horrible as he's been the past few months, Lisa is right that it'll make the game more interesting if we have some wild cards strewn in."

"What'll it be, Neville?" Lisa prompted.

"Seven minutes," Neville decided with an anxious gulp. "I'm too… too nervous about whatever Fred and George cooked up on those Dares to brave the Cupid's Cauldron."

"What is this game?" Malfoy asked angrily. "This isn't any normal Spin the Bottle, is it?"

"It is, Malfoy," Fred chimed in from the corner of the room. A Butterbeer bottle shined dully in his hand from the nearby torchlight. "Lisa Turpin's idea, but George and I volunteered to help add some magical elements for these hot-to-trot ickle young'uns to spice things up!"

"What's Spin the Bottle?" Goyle asked, feeling woefully uninformed.

"Didn't you hear him?" Malfoy snapped irritably. "It's in the name. It's that stupid Muggle game that… that filthy Muggles and blood-traitors play. If the bottle lands on you, you kiss the idiot who spun the bottle in the first place."

"Oh." Goyle nodded, then cast a smarmy glance at Susan Bones, who shrank back from the circle with a grimace.

"Alright then, Neville? Mandy?" said George from outside the circle. "Into the closet you lovebirds go for seven minutes. In the meantime, we'll let others take their turn, and we'll use that cabinet over there instead if we need to."

Malfoy folded his arms with a petulant scowl as two other players took their turn, including Hermione. The first was Seamus, and he decided to use a Pass when the bottle landed on another boy and spun the bottle a second time.

Both Seamus and Hermione chose the Cupid's Cauldron instead of Seven Minutes, which meant they had to pluck one of the many paper Dares from the bubbling cauldron in their turn.

Hermione was especially disappointed with the Dare she ended up with. Her shoulders deflated upon opening the parchment. "We have to trade wands for a week, Ernie," she announced. "Which is the worst possible Dare I could have gotten. Now it'll be that much harder for me to study and participate in class."

"You've been studying too hard, anyways," said Ron, nudging her companionably. "You need the break."

"You're wrong, Ron. I shouldn't have come here," Hermione said with tears springing into her eyes. "I already have so much work, and now I'll have to study even harder!"

"You're the best, Hermione," Harry said with a worried frown. "You'll figure it out."

"Well, I hope you have better luck than me, Harry, because it's your turn now."

Pansy tugged on Malfoy's robe and stamped her heel. "Dracoooo, this is boring…"

But Malfoy waved her off like a buzzing fly. He was fully invested in the game now that it was Harry's turn to spin the bottle. He took a step forward and watched as Harry flicked his wand; the bottle whirled into a blur. It would never stop spinning at that rate, and Draco almost thought the Gryffindor had launched the bottle at that speed on purpose.

When the bottle finally slowed to a grinding halt, Malfoy relaxed as the bottle's neck angled clearly away from him. It was pointing straight at Ginny, who squeaked with horror and hid her face behind both her fists.

Malfoy tensed visibly upon realizing the bottle had selected her out of everyone in the circle.

Harry was smiling sideways at Ginny, but Ron shoved threateningly at him and said, "You aren't kissing my sister, mate."

"It's all right," said Harry, without missing a beat. "I don't think she'd want her first kiss to happen this way either, so I think… I could use Cupid's Cauldron, but it could end up worse for her from what I saw of Fred and George's contributions to the Dares. Guess I'll use up my final Pass."

"Are you sure?" Lisa asked. "It could be a harmless Dare if you pick one of the notes I wrote."

Harry seemed to calculate his chances, but then surprised Malfoy by glancing up at him. "Mark off my final Pass."

Ginny visibly relaxed and heaved a sigh of red-faced relief.

"Thank God I'm not playing," Malfoy grumbled under his breath, while Pansy tugged impatiently at his robes.

"But if it lands on Ginny again," Harry went on, reaching for the bottle manually this time, "I will kiss her, Ron. If she lets me, anyways." Harry twisted his wrist, then let the bottle fly.

"If she lets you, mate? She'll snog your bloody face off if you give her an inch!"

"Ron! Shut up!" Ginny cried, sounding distressed.

Harry smiled harmlessly at her, waiting for the bottle to begin its deceleration.

Draco held his breath, oblivious to how Pansy was yanking on his arm to urge him out of the room.

After several seconds, Harry's eyes crept slowly up and alighted on his rival once again. Malfoy had been staring at him with a stoic expression the whole time, so that he didn't even notice when the bottle finally stopped.

A deadly silence came over the circle when the grind of the bottle had ceased. Harry was doing everything in his power to hold back his smile.

"Malfoy," he said. His voice was warm and weirdly inviting.

Draco frowned when it dawned on him that everyone's eyes were trained on him. The bottle's neck was pointing straight at him, but he said in a flippant tone, "I'm not playing, remember?"

"Oooh… yes, you are," Lisa Turpin assured him, pointing to where Draco was standing. "You're in the circle, so you are playing, I'm afraid…"

Malfoy twisted around. Sure enough, he had inched his way over the line at some point.

"So what?" He snarled. "I don't have to do anything if I don't want to."

"Oooh… yes, you do," Lisa continued to explain. "Because the bottle is enchanted, the game is magically binding on the two people it connects. According to the rules of the game Fred and George made up, there are only two ways to dispel the magic, and that is to either kiss Harry or carry out whatever's in the Cupid's Cauldron. Harry gets to decide which one you have to do, by the way," she added as an afterthought.

"Magically binding," Malfoy echoed faintly.

Harry noticed the look of quiet panic coming over him, and said, "It's alright, Malfoy. We're just two guys."

Hermione blinked at Harry, amazed.

"I'm not kissing you," Malfoy said, feeling suddenly defensive and somewhat queasy. "That's bloody disgusting." He stepped out of the circle and meant to leave, but something invisible snagged him by both ankles and tripped him onto the floor.

"The magic is binding," Hermione repeated for his benefit. She bit her lip and glanced quickly between Harry and Draco. "Oh, Harry…," she said apologetically.

"It's alright," said Harry. "It doesn't bother me nearly half as much as it's bothering him."

Hermoine sighed and considered Malfoy as he propped himself upright. "You know, you don't have to kiss Harry if you just go in the closet with him. I'm sure he won't touch you. You can both draw blood instead, or find out who can cast the deadliest spell."

"That's dark, Hermione," said Ron. "Especially considering what Sirius Black would like to do."

"I'm only trying to lighten the mood."

Ron scrunched his face while he puzzled over the humor of that statement.

Just in time, Neville and Mandy stumbled out of the closet, both looking flushed for very different reasons.

"It's your call," Harry said to Draco in a mild tone. "Seven Minutes or Cupid's Cauldron. I'll do whichever you want if it calms you down."

Still sprawled on the floor, Draco glowered at Harry whose lips were turned up at a wry angle. His mind raced. Seven Minutes would certainly be easier and quicker, but his father might hear about the optics of his son crawling into a closet with another boy for what amounted to seven minutes of making out.

"If it's unavoidable, then Cupid's Cauldron," Malfoy said automatically, not needing to think any further beyond what his father would say. "I can't afford to be locked away in a fucking closet with you, Potter—and I mean that with all due disrespect."

Harry reached into the bubbling cauldron, unfolded the parchment, and then announced, "That's fine. We'll just have to spend the next seven days with each other as a consolation prize. According to this, we will be bound to each other every day from dawn until dusk, so we won't even be able to access our separate common rooms during that time."

Fred laughed. "No way."

George's eyes bugged out of his head. "Brilliant!" he shouted triumphantly. "That's the one I wrote."

Draco became even paler than he already was.

"You… you ended up with that one?" Hermione looked grieved for Harry's sake.

"Seven days," Harry repeated, lowering the Dare to his lap. "Together. Every moment that the sun is up."

Malfoy's pulse surged into overdrive.

"But—" Ron made the attempt to wrap his head around what that meant. "You'll have to sit next to him during class, and eat in the Great Hall together, and spend every extracurricular activity together—and what if you aren't in the same class for a given period?"

"They almost are," Hermoine explained. "Somehow, they ended up with nearly identical schedules with their doubles, and they even chose the same electives for this year. I think they only have a couple of classes that don't match. What they'll have most trouble with is Quidditch practice. They'll probably have to sit that out for just this week."

"But if they can't even go to their separate common rooms, how are they supposed to use the toilet?" Ron pointed out, voice cracking on a squeak.

"Well, that'll be a nightmare." George rubbed his chin, apparently not having taken that into consideration.

"I've changed my mind," Malfoy said weakly. "Let's do Seven Minutes and get it over with."

"Too late," said Fred. "You chose Cupid's Cauldron, and Harry agreed. You don't get to change your mind. The magic is—"

"—Binding," Malfoy finished for him abruptly. "So I've heard. But what happens if we decide to ignore your stupid curse and go on with life as usual?"

George grinned mischievously. "Then you'll both be tied to each other until you get over yourselves long enough to dispel it I'm sure you will find that the magic will be more than a little persuasive if you try to ignore it."

"This is a lovers' game, after all," reminded Fred.

"We aren't lovers!" Draco thundered.

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks," George quoted, his eyes glittering with glee. "The bottle has spoken."

"I'm sure a teacher will know the counter-curse," Pansy said to Draco, casting George her meanest sneer.

"Go for it," laughed George. "I guarantee they won't be able to figure it out—and you can Finite Incantatem it all day, it'll just do nothing. Even Fred and I can't break it!"

Blaise finally spoke up. "Why would you make an unbreakable rule like that?"

"What good is a game like this, unless it has pretty high stakes and stringent rules?" Fred opined, looking offended. "Especially with all the Outs the players get already with two Passes and Cupid's Cauldron."

After looking back at his friends, Draco shrugged his shoulders, suspecting that he had no choice but to give in. "Seven Days with the so-called Golden Boy," he scoffed, "what could be better…"

"Well," said Harry lightly, concealing his mirth. "I could have you in a tongue-lock right about now."

Fred choked on his own simulated vomit, while everyone else vacillated between uneasy grins and yellow-faced snickers.

"You're disgusting, Potter…"

"The feelings mutual."

"You will regret this."

"Oh, really? And what if I don't?"

Draco went silent at that, feeling taunted—and somehow viciously flirted with.

Ron stared in horror at the enchanted bottle in front of him, second-guessing his decision to play. Meanwhile, Ginny slumped her shoulders, and Hermione twisted around to grab her bookbag in order to sneak in some reading.

"So, when can I leave?" Draco asked furiously, meaning to indicate the magic pinching around his ankles. "Or do those seven days start now?"

"It starts tomorrow," Fred explained, "but you have to stay in the circle till the game is finished. Only then it will release you."

Ron grumbled under his breath. "But what if I have to use the toilet…?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Draco swore under his breath. "I'm not spinning any fucking bottles…"

"Then the game will unfortunately end with you," George said, annoyed. "Next time, don't waltz right into a circle without looking both ways first. Or didn't your mummy ever teach you to keep a lookout for magical traps? Calling everyone else idiots, I swear…"

"Sorry about this, Potter," George said spryly, patting Harry on the shoulder. But Harry merely shrugged and kept his excitement to himself.