Chapter 7

The class had moved on from the circus that was Snape blowing off a bit of steam at the start of year. He was now back to being as serious as anyone would have expected. Currently the whole class were gathered around his instructional area. For anyone with passion or aptitude for the subject, they were watching a masterclass. Snape looked like he was having to purposely slow his action's down while in the fever flow of his art, just to allow the mere novices he was teaching even the slightest chance to keep up and make notes. He barely spoke as he worked, and if he did it was either a murmur to himself or something he barked out when he really wanted them to take note. Half an hour in and he stopped, not a single bead of sweat threatening his brow.

"You have all just watched the process for the successful brewing of the Draught of Eternal Death, this is a subsidiary of the Draught of Peace, which you are expected to create for your O.W.L and you will be attempting next week in preparation for your exams. Today you will be brewing this, the Draught of Eternal Death is more complicated, more dangerous, and not expected to be successfully brewed until your sixth year". Snape allowed for a moment of silence to pass, "While the Draught of Peace soothes the drinker and calms anxiety. This potion, which should not be confused with the Draught of the Living Death, places the drinker into a dream like state where they are able to enter the eternal planes. From there it allows the drinker to communicate with those deceased, that might then be able to return as ghosts like those in this castle". "Today you will attempt to brew this in pairs, and I thoroughly expect any student of mine to be able to step up to the task. This has taken thirty minutes; you will have one hour. As this is above your year it does not feature in your textbooks and so you will find what instructions I have given, on your desks, although I expect you to have all made adequate notes during my demonstration".

The class looked amongst itself taking stock of the fact that hardly anyone had made notes except for Tracey, Pansy, Hermione, Draco, and Dean. Snape sneered and Pansy suspected that next lesson, no one would be stood around watching without quill and parchment in hand. They all returned to their desks and Snape issued the order to begin.

Ron stood at his desk looking on as Harry and Hermione were shoulder to shoulder as they started their task. As he was at the back of the class and couldn't see their faces, but he hoped for nothing more than a dull experience brewing for them both, in the nicest possible way. Something enjoyable yet unremarkable that would stick in Hermione's mind as a so-so experience. He was jolted out of his train of thought when Pansy came over and stood on his right. He turned to look at her and, just as they had twice that day, their eyes met and locked together for a moment before both looked away awkwardly.

Ron, unable to concentrate, found his eyeline snapped forwards to where Hermione and Harry were. He'd heard the unmistakable sound of her giggling. Again, he tried to ignore it and get back to starting his own work. He didn't want to give Snape any ammunition today. He turned back to his partner and again they locked eyes, remained planted and then turned away from each other.

"Oh, bloody hell", Ron moan irritably, "what is going on with you". It came out quicker than he could censor himself and while he had nothing positive to say about the girl, he wasn't annoyed with her or trying to be insensitive. He was just slowly edging into a bad mood.

"Me", Pansy scoffed in anger, "what's got into you. Don't you take a pop at me because you're having a bad day", she hissed back. She too didn't feel like arguing, especially after the afternoon she had had. But he had prompted an automatic reaction from her.

He opened his mouth to fire back when his eye's found Harry and Hermione again, now he thought he saw their hands hovering over each other's for a second. It deflated him, he didn't want to know right now, and he didn't want to keep tabs. He turned back to Pansy.

"Wow", he breathed, almost a whisper through his lips in betrayal of himself. With the distraction on the other table, he had barely been paying Parkinson any attention what with Hermione and Harry fogging his mind. Now though, determined to push them from his mind he'd turned back to her with fresh eyes and a resolve to be clear minded and the effect was instant. Taking the sight of her in completely this time he was shocked to his core when he turned to face her a third time. Like earlier that morning he noticed how incredibly small she was but now he was noticing 'all' of her. He couldn't believe how pale her porcelain skin looked and the way it contrasted with the dark shadows of her eyes, piercing lines of her face and jaw. Her hair was longer than he'd seen before and flowed past her neck a marvellous raven black shining against the dim fire light of the room. The same firelight illuminated in her amber eyes, and it completed the image that struck him dumb.

'She's beautiful', he was shocked to hear himself admit.

"Wow what?", Pansy narrowed her eyes at him. She wanted to get whatever was going on between them over with and begin their task. But the Weasley boy continued to stare, and it bugged her. Mostly because in this light his blue eyes were magnificent, two cold flames in an expanse of red Weasley fire.

Ron was at a loss of what to say, he didn't want her knowing he was attracted to her, he had only just found this out himself. He felt this was also problematic enough in its own right. He recognised it had been his own stupid fault they started to argue and that he didn't want to carry it on with her. It all brought his pen pal's letter trailing into his mind. This made him go over Sea's words. Her 'being nice thing', why wasn't that something he could do too. He was a nice person after all, or so he thought. She was a Slytherin though and he did have a particular hatred of them. Parkinson was a particularly nasty one at that, when had she been nice to him, she was a cow with Hermione. Almost comically he couldn't dwell on it for long before he consciously realised, he was still fixatedly gawking at her.

'Oh, to bugger with it', and he thought about all the times he'd been a nasty git, whether he'd meant to or not.

Ron had never been one for talking to girls and the idea of being charming was beyond him. He then realised that almost like Sea, he didn't actually care about Parkinson, he didn't know either of them. Yes, he was now struggling to think of girls he'd seen who he was more attracted to, but they had lived by a hatred of each other for years, so who cared. Their indifference to each other outweighed the impactedness of her beauty so in his eyes, he didn't see why it would be a challenge to talk to her. Giving into the idea, decided to do something he'd never done with the opposite sex and just trust himself not to, well not to be a clot as Snape had put it. And once again as he had done already that day, for better or worse decided to just go with it. Thinking quickly or more precisely, drawing on a lack of any actual thought regarding what he should say or do. He went down a route for the first time in his life where he let the worry and lack of confidence take a back seat. He likened it to passing control over to his instincts and letting them, take the wheel as it were. Because, if it all went to pot, who cared. She could only dislike him more.

Ron dropped his head to the side a little and brought his eyes to meet hers. He tried to offer her a small smile and spoke softly. "Look, I'm sorry. I was being an idiot". He noticed the trace of shock on her face, "can we start again, for the sake of doing a half decent job at this if nothing else". He thought that might do the trick but finished by adding, "I don't really care if you don't like me, it is what it is, it'd just be nice to get along for a change".

Pansy recoiled when he smiled at her, again she reacted without reason. But Pansy was a tactician and hadn't missed a thing when he came over to her. Take away the shock of nearly being bowled over by him this morning and just standing side by side now, she noticed all of him. Here was this tall lanky boy who she'd known as a scrawny ginger for years. And he now had the audacity to turn up at start of term having filled out noticeably. And what was more were the prominent facial features chiselled out and a mop of hair that resembled phoenix fire instead of the ginger locks she had in her memory of the younger version of him. His usually pale skin was darker now somehow and not just in the dim light. He finally seemed to have taken in some son and it had stuck, it made his freckles pop, they were now a very cute feature on his sharp face. His chin solid and jaw sharp, it gave him a strong appearance. But his hair was the most notable, whether he had never been ginger and she failed to notice or this was another change, it was anything but. It was a lengthy and untamed lions' mane of deep scarlet.

"Gods, he's gorgeous, how is he gorgeous!", she thought desperately.

She had no time to think with this ambush he was orchestrating against her. She felt truly played by the boy. And to top it off he was now beaming at her in a way that suggested he was only too aware of these changes and was gifted a newfound confidence. The result was as instant as it was unwanted in her. She felt impossibly pissed off at him and more to the point, at herself as she noticed the quickening of her pulse and the heat rising in her cheeks. He was so handsome up close and for the first time since they met, speaking a kindness.

"Yes", she stared into his eye's.

Pansy shook her head frustrated, 'yes, yes what, idiot, don't go to pieces over a Weasley damn it', she scolded herself. But she couldn't ignore the fact that he was now being kind to her and that too was unnerving. So she didn't feel bad when she thought, 'a trick?'. She considered him and couldn't deny it felt genuine. Horse came to her mind for a second, she had told him she wanted to explore this change in attitude. Maybe these feelings were more common than she thought for people their age. And if all else failed, if he meant it then it would hopefully be an argument free afternoon and she needed that after the day her emotions had had.

Unable to find good reason, other than him being a Red, for her not to go with it. "Ok, apology accepted". She turned away, back to all the ingredients and materials they needed to complete the task. "Let's try and get this done together then". The impish humour that plagued her often poked her in the ribs and she added slyly, "Merlin knows you could use the grades in this class", maybe it was that side of her that couldn't resist being an arse or maybe she just wanted to see what his reaction would be. With a side glance in his direction, she noticed the small smile edge onto his lips. Looking away again she tried to hide her own, and the quickening of her pulse again.

She put him on ingredients prep duties while she concentrated on weights and measurements. They worked for a good length of time and Pansy was satisfied any time they lost they were making up. Then Pansy caught him cutting the Knotstem root wrong. "No", she said and caught his hand in her own, "they need cutting across, not length-ways". She let go of his hand quickly and side stepped away, not realising how close they'd drifted.

Frowning Ron pointed at the parchment in front of them. "No look Snape said length-ways, says so there".

"Yes but he's testing the class", she started to cut across the ingredient, "see how much less juice comes out when you cut this way". She stilled as he took a step nearer, leaning over her to get a better look. He had taken back the step she had taken from him. Heat rose in her cheeks. "Erm", again all she could do was err at him as he forced another quiver from her. Her brain it seemed, like her body was now betraying her as he forced her to blank. It didn't help that he was close enough that she could smell the boy. She was used to the boys of Slytherin smelling of aftershave and in the case of Draco, only the finest at that. Weasley wasn't so obvious, he smelt like cut grass and a sort of earthy scent. Not dirty, it was actually appealing to her, it was something she'd smelt before, but she couldn't pin it. It was just something that threw her a little and reminded her of hazy warm evenings, it made her think of summer. She snapped out of it, "when he was demonstrating he did this and at least five or so other instructions differently to how they're written on here".

"And we need less 'juice?", he breathed down onto her neck, purposely she suspected.

Pansy's eyes rolled as the hairs on her neck pricked, his breath hitting her skin making it rise like gooseflesh. Her eyes narrowed with menace, she knew his game, she was just shocked to know he knew it too. The slimy git. But it was working and that wouldn't do. She also noticed the trace of humour in his voice as he spoke, that very male trait to find simple words funny by making them sound dirty, 'the big child', she thought affectionately.

"Yes, we need less as we need the raw ingredient with as little Knotstem… juice… as possible". She did her best not to react to him and didn't respond in any way that would let him know he was getting to her. Really though that wasn't true, she was huffing, raising an eyebrow in shock, the odd hint of a smile and a small moan had all involuntarily occurred at one point or another. She was getting drawn in by him. And it annoyed her, more so when she realised, she was enjoying it. She carried on, trying to ignore him, and marked off each one of the other instructions on the parchment with a scribble of how to correctly prepare each one as they continued.

"Sorry", Ron moved, coming up behind, leaning over her. "Just getting a better look at the parchment". She kept making faces at him or at least he thought she was, as far as he could tell. The sort of faces and reactions he had seen girls give when they were speaking to boys in the school that he new were the good looking ones. It was the type of thing he'd always secretly wished for. He couldn't believe he was noticing them in her. Like little 'tells', things he looked out for in chess opponents faces during a match. Each time she did it he felt an electricity in him and lightness in his stomach. He had never had a girl look at him like this, not to this extent anyway. And it seemed to be because of the things he was saying or doing. It was quite thrilling for someone who never got any attention.

Leaning over her he picked up an ingredient and plonked a small piece of meat down, "so this beaver liver needs to be sliced this way, diagonally, but not touched for five minutes to reattain the moisture, got it!", he confirmed.

At this point he was fully behind her with his arms either side of her head, propping him up as he leaned on the table. Pansy felt in danger that she might be fully enveloped in his arms. His arms, she hadn't failed to notice, were round and ever so slightly bulging with definition. Since they began working, he had removed his cloak, rolling his sleeves up in the heavy air of the classroom. She could see his clothes were handed down, as was always noticeable with Weasley. But now the fact that his school shirt was ever so slightly too small on him did nothing but good things for him. She didn't know what he'd been doing over the summer or what amount of hormones had bombarded him but the effect was striking. She noticed once or twice a distant look of quizzical interest from some of the girls in the class. Clearly no one else had been privy to these changes as of yet.

Ron remained where he was, his arms either side of her shoulders as he leaned over her. "Err… what sorry?", she found herself lost again in her thoughts, 'Damn it'.

"The err, Beaver", he breathed onto her neck, "the liver needs to be sliced diagonally and then left for five minutes to reattain the moisture, yeah?"

She looked over her shoulder with a dark look, a sour smirk grew across her face, knowing he was up to something with these questions. She had to fight to stop her face developing into a smile or let him win in any way. He hadn't yet moved his arms, so that now when she turned to face him, she was still trapped by him. Only now they were almost nose to nose. She nodded slowly in response, trying to peer at him with as piercing a look as she could muster. She was learning very quickly he had a wicked tongue, and a humour that matched her own. She already knew where his mind had gone to.

"So dry stem, wet beaver, got it", he purposely wasn't looking at her anymore and was staring down at all the ingredients nodding.

Pansy closed her eyes smiling as they arrived at where he had been going with this. She dramatically looked back over her shoulder at the ingredients he was staring at and then turned back to facing him so that once again they were deadlocked. She tried to hold her dark eyes on his, purposely being as intimidating as possible which she knew was impossible but tried all the same. Looking up into his face which was still only inches from hers. "Yes Weasley, the beaver should be… wet". They began to stare each other down and Pansy couldn't stop the thin smile that slowly lit her face and the flush in her cheeks. He too was struggling to stop a mischievous smile from showing on his own face. The last thing she needed was her betraying herself but she couldn't help but start biting involuntarily at her bottom lip under the pressure of those eyes. "I'm going to keep tally of these you know", she warned with a whisper, "I don't think you know what you're getting into starting this with me".

Something in the back of Ron's mind flagged up the danger that was the arousal stirring in him, he managed to overcome it. Right now, all he could do was keep staring at the brilliant gold in her amber eyes, determined not to blink. Now he was sure, no one had ever looked at him like she was doing. He was excited, his heart was thumping in his ears, and he'd never felt this alive just talking to someone like they were doing. It was so bizarre, all he was doing was winding her up, which he did to everyone all the time. He'd spent his school years winding Hermione up and it never led to anything like this. He didn't know if it was Hermione's nature, or Pansy's or maybe something about him that was different now, like the way he was conducting himself, but it was working for him. Then she began to bite her lip and his chest nearly exploded with the butterflies that had come up from his stomach.

"I think I'm getting a pretty good idea….".

They both span away from each other and adopted a much more innocent stance side by side with a huge blast of adrenaline as there was a billow of black robes that fluttered by them, it paused as it reached them.

"Miss Parkinson", Snape eyed their table with intensity, "I dare say these ingredients are almost flawless. Five points to Slytherin for allowing Weasley to ride your coat tails". He began to walk off. They both glanced at each other and raised their eyebrows, each knowing the other was trying to hide the sudden rise and fall of their chests in the thrill of being caught off guard.

Snape paused and turned back to them again, "Weasley I suggest you study Miss Parkinson closely if you wish to improve unassisted".

Instead of scowling back at the man as he might of usually, he turned to Pansy and squinted at her hard, staring her up and down dramatically. She scoffed and rolled her eyes, "such an arse!".

They worked quietly for a further twenty minutes until their cauldron was bubbling away with what Pansy had informed him was 'perfect dark green hews' as was needed. All they had to do now was not mess the timing and they were bound to get an Outstanding between them both, or at least a mock grade of that level.

"It's all a bit Slytherin, Potion's I mean", Ron sat leaning with his back to the table casually.

"You think?", she was happy to indulge in some conversation with him. The potion was on point and although something kept telling her she needed to get a grip and stop with him, she wanted to know him more. It pained her to admit that about a Red, but she was deeply attracted to him. It was also a new thing for her, talking to a boy like this. She had never really looked at any other boys before, she conditioned herself so much for Draco. But moving past all that she couldn't help but wonder if Weasley had any substance about him. So she listened as he went on.

"Well, I don't think it hurts being a Slytherin in this class what with Snape being the professor, but it's not what I mean". He looked down at her as she cleaned and absentmindedly began to help keep on top of the workstation with her. "I mean it's the same as Defence Against the Dark Art's, it's a very Gryffindor subject".

Pansy rolled her eyes as she realised, she knew this line of thinking already and she couldn't help but remorsefully skip ahead to the part where she found him a bit of a disappointment. 'We're talking about subjects like there good an evil? because this is in a dungeon by the Slytherin head? and Gryffindor's prefer to fight for the light in Defence Against the Dark Art's?', she thought cynically. It was predictable in her eyes and therefore very disappointing. She had just been enjoying his company for the first time as well. She felt bitter about it, she had an out of place feeling about him being interesting but was now feeling he was going to be a let-down.

"I think anyone can do well in any lesson if learning's your thing", he paid her little attention and threw himself into the cleaning as they talked. "I just think that there are subjects that suit houses better than others. Like Potion's is a slow-paced thing when you break it down. Don't get me wrong, Snape can make it look like a hurricane in here when he's doing his thing". He paused as he glanced at her, unapologetic with his next words, "I mean I hate the slimy git, but he's no less impressive. But it is still a bit slow and dull sometimes-…".

"…-And Slytherin's are slow and dull", she cut over him. Pansy kept her words even, she knew whatever their little game had been, it would never be anything more than the little bit of a flirt that it was. Admitting that they had been having a flirt in the first place messed with her head a little. But now that he was chatting to her the magic of it all was dying away. She was attracted to more than just looks and found it hard to ignore the feeble logic.

"…Nope", Ron cutting her off in turn, "no, it's slow and sometimes dull because it's a lot of thinking and patience, its why I've always found Slytherin's are the best Chess opponents. Shame too because getting a game out of you lot is hard enough without it carrying over into a fight".

Pansy stopped and fully turned to look at him, she was shocked into giving him her full attention at hearing what she had taken as a compliment towards her house. "Slytherin's are good at chess, because were good at Potion's?", she struggled to hide her confusion and blinked at him almost dumbfounded. But also, 'where had this come from', she thought as she was instantly drawn in by him again. Weasley was Potter's best friend, she couldn't think of anyone who oozed Gryffindor more than Potter did. So, hearing anything that resembled a compliment towards her lot was just odd.

"Probably, I mean, maybe", he turned to face her too, "but that's not what I meant". "Chess is strategy at its core, Potion's is too, I mean I think by that logic. Well just look at how much preparation we had to do to get this spot on". He saw her quizzical head tilt as she pondered so he continued, "You guys are all about cunning and the slow game to get what you want, yeah? And I bet you'd have a good chance at kicking my arse in a duel but really, Gryffindor's are all about reaction. Call it bravery, stupidity, or whatever you want but it's all the same. Defence Against the Dark Art's, in practice is all about action and reaction. It's still as slow as any other class really, but again…in practice. Gryffindor's thrive on the quicker pace and Slytherin's thrive on the slower, more deliberate pace". He felt triumphant at the look on her face. He guessed she had probably thought him a bit of an idiot, so it felt nice to surprise her. "So…Potion's…a very Slytherin thing".

She knew she was showing it, but it was a highly intelligent assessment on his part, and she looked down on herself for judging him. She decided to offer him a compliment as a reward. "But I thought you were one of the best Chess players in the school, from what I've heard", she saw the flush in his cheeks. His theory seemed sound, if not downright accurate when she considered it. "But wouldn't that mean that you should also be pretty good at Potion's too, seeing as it shares so much in common with Chess…but you've always been crap at Potions". She waited for a reaction on his face and chalked up another win for herself.

He swore mouthing at her silently and then thought about what she'd said. "Your right though, I guess I've never cared for it. But it's true, if I thought about it like a Chess match then I'd probably be able to apply myself better". "Actually, not a bad idea at all seeing as I'm going to be trying to get into Snape's class next year".

"Oh?", she turned away from him to look at the cauldron, "four stirs anticlockwise and three clockwise", she inclined her head at the ladle, happy to see he took orders well, "and don't forget to stir up the sediment at the bottom of the pot". She smiled as he did as told, 'good boy', she thought. Feeling brave she leaned in as close as she could reach to his height and whispered, "another one to me I think".

"I'm going to have to get creative if I want to catch up on this bloody scoreboard of yours", she was right though, she could have added ten on for that one, the effect had been instant, breathing down his ear, secretly he'd loved it.

She took the ladle from him and started to clean it, taking care to lean over and examine the potion carefully. "Try to lower that flame a few degrees", she wanted to hide her interest in him as best she could. "So that means you've picked your classes next year then. I'm guessing you have a career in mind if you've decided before we've had our career one-on-one's".

"Yep", Ron biting his lip in concentration as he adjusted the flame, "Auror, what about you?".

But she was taken back by how flippantly he answered, "wait, an Auror, why would you want to be an Auror".

He stood upright finishing with the tinkering, "Well, the world need's Auror's and I'm willing to give it a go".

'Why is this not a big deal to him', she thought. "Well, it's a bit more than that though, isn't it? Its dangerous", she paused, "I mean its 'really' dangerous".

"Ok", he frowned not understanding the issue, "but that's what I think I'd be good at, and I can't see much else motivating my dopey arse into working hard enough to get the grades for".

She too frowned, "shouldn't make jokes about that, you're smart enough to do well if you apply yourself", she cursed herself for being openly empathic. "Anyway, don't you remember the Dark Art's professor from last year, or at least the one that weirdo was pretending to be. He had bits missing and all sorts". He was smiling at her again and now it confused her, "what!?".

"Yeah, I do, Mad Eye, or the real Mad Eye at least, is a mate of my dad's", he leaned over, "Parkinson, are you worried about me?", he teased the last with the smile and rubbed his shoulder against hers. He felt her go rigid and leaned in again, "stick that on your bloody score board".

She wanted to hit him, the great posturing oaf, but she smiled all the same, "very well have it your way and get yourself killed, just make sure this bloody potion is done first".

"Well wait a minute, what about you", he barely realised he was leaning towards her again.

"What about…", again, she felt her cheeks flush, "oh you mean what I want to go into. Alchemy", she answered flatly.

"That's the making gold and stuff, right?".

"Gryffindor dropped the Quaffle the day you got in didn't they", she smiled at the face he pulled, "not quite though, it's a bit more complicated than that". Again, she was drawn to him and turned to face him, "there's something beautiful behind the subtlety and art to it all. It's complicated and intricate, delicate, and powerful. And it's not all about gold and precious metals, it's the chemical science of our whole world and…". She frowned at him, "you know you're really starting to wind me up, what are you smiling at now!".

Ron's smile turned to a grin, as her eyes flashed dangerously, he had to put a hand up to apologise as he started to laugh, "I'm sorry, I'm laughing at me, not you… honest. I just had no idea how much I'd enjoy listening to you talk that's all. I wasn't expecting to hear you talk so passionately".

His answer immediately caught her off guard and what danger she had shown in her glare vanished. This time there was no hiding the sweetness in her smile as she was taken aback by his comment. Once again for the numerous times that day they stood staring into each other's eyes.

The time for the class to brew their potions came to an abrupt halt with Snape's announcement. It shocked some who weren't clearly ready, panicked others who were but had made a mess of it and the rest simply downed tools and awaited instruction. Snape inspected each sample that was ladled up and brought to him in pairs. He did his best to both praise and belittle the houses respectively. For the few interhouse teams, Pansy and Tracey were praised heavily and Neville just appeared relieved to not be on the receiving end of a scolding.

The time came for them to leave, and they began to pack away. While they did, they remained silent, casting the odd glance at each other when the opportunity allowed. When they were done the class began to exit.

Ron made to walk off and paused, turning to look at her. He felt like he had a lot to say to her, but nothing came to him. He didn't speak.

Pansy too was trying to leave but found herself wanting to comment on how much she had enjoyed the lesson with him and would look forward to doing again, but she couldn't get anything out now. She was surprised how annoyed she was that it had ended.

Ron began to feel awkward turning one way to leave then back towards her and in the end, he went on instinct again and offered her a genuine smile, "bye".

She was struck again by the sweetness of his stupid, handsome smile and again she felt a quickening, finding none of her own words she managed, "bye", when a smile of her own appeared without her permission.

She watched as he left and on autopilot followed towards the door. Stepping through the threshold she was gripped around the arm and pulled away quickly.

"What in the chocolate frog did I actually just witness in there", Tracey beamed into her ear.