In Which Ron Examines a Teaspoon

In Which Ron Examines a Teaspoon
By Danielle B

Potions had to be the worst class of the day, Ron Weasley told himself as he starred up at the board for the day’s lesson.

“Complicated and advanced, the drought of aestnus will require your full attention. However, some of you,” said Snape, giving Neville a furtive look, “may find it above your level of comprehension, at which I suggest you don’t even try in the first place.”

Ron saw Neville gulp, yet proceed to draw out his cauldron and ingredients.

“It is with that,” Snape continued, flicking the board with his wand, “that I give you the instructions. Begin.”

Ron starred at the board.

He hadn’t a clue where to begin. Though, he noticed Hermione had already started and was now absentmindedly muttering to herself.

“One cup moonstone, counter-clockwise, must stir three minutes...” Ron shook his head. Hermione really ought to stop talking to herself.

With a great sense of dread, Ron started taking out his ingredients. A cup of moonstone, a pinch of figfins, a teaspoon of lacewing...

Teaspoon. The word triggered a thought in Ron’s memory.

“Just because you have the emotional range of a teaspoon...”
It was his emotional range, Ron remembered. Nearly two months ago, Hermione had compared his emotional range to that of a teaspoon’s.

Not that she was right, Ron assured himself as he carefully poured the moonstone into his cauldron and brought the potion to a boil. Afterall, he thought, glaring at the teaspoon, it really was a small amount.

“What are you doing?” Hermione said in an annoyed tone, stirring her brew in a timely manner. It was then that Ron realized he was starring mouth open at the teaspoon.

“Nothing,” said Ron, placing the utensil down and proceeding to stir the contents counter-clockwise.

“Can I borrow this?” Hermione asked, referring to the teaspoon on the table. Ron shrugged indifferently as he added a pinch of figfins to his potion. Immediately, the potion turned a dark magenta.

“Magenta?” Ron said disgustingly as he ladled some out of his cauldron.

“Yes, magenta Ron,” said Hermione. Ron was relieved to find that her potion as well was a deep shade of purple

Ron was just about to ask Hermione if he could have his teaspoon back, when a loud shriek came from the other end of the dungeon.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Ron heard Lavendar Brown scream, pushing away Seamus who was undeniably trying to kiss Lavander.

“Ew, what are you doing?” said Parvati who, in protection of her friend, splashed some of her potion at Seamus’ face.

“Silly boy!” Snape yelled, grabbing Seamus by the collar and dragging him back to his own cauldron.

“How many times have I warned you not to intake a potion!”

“Actually, never, Professor,” said Dean who was calmly stirring his own potion.

“Ten points from Gryffindor!”

Ron turned to Hermione, who hadn’t seemed to notice Seamus and was once again muttering to herself.

“What does the drought of anus do, anyways?” Ron asked, turning up the heat on his own cauldron.

“Aestnus, honestly Ron. If you payed attention once in awhile you might find that you would know the answers to your questions.”

“Just because I have the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn’t mean I have the brains of a teaspoon too,” said Ron, pouring silverwings into his potion.

Hermione looked taken back by Ron’s words. She opened her mouth, and for a minute, Ron thought she was about to apologize.

“The drought of aestnus is supposed to sharpen...feelings,” said Hermione, who turned red, and looked immediately down at the floor on the pretense of searching for something.

“You mean it’s some kind of love potion?” said Ron, who realized he probably could have figured that out by himself.

“Not exactly,” said Hermione, stirring her potion once again. “Aestnus is derived from the latin word for emotions meaning it’s supposed to magnify people’s emotions for...other people.”

Ron had no idea what Hermione had just said.

“You mean a love potion?” said Ron, who was much too interested in Hermione’s explanation to care about the potion itself.

“Kind of,” said Hermione. “But it works for other emotions too, like hate, jealousy, and lust.”

“So basically, a love potion.”

“No, Ron, not a love potion,” said Hermione, who was wearing that utterly perturbed look that Ron just couldn’t resist.

“The drought of Aestnus holds certain properties that differ greatly from a common love potion,” said Hermione, turning down Ron’s cauldron temperature and adding the toadskins for him.

“For one, if you’ve never felt love, or lust, or jealousy towards that person, you will continue to not hold those feelings while swallowing the potion. However,” Hermione continued, stirring Ron’s potion clockwise, “if you have felt those emotions towards a person and intake the drought, your feelings will be...brought to the surface.”

“That would qualify it as a love potion, Hermione,” said Ron, who was utterly perplexed with Hermione’s explanation of things.

“Oh honestly, Ron, you do have the brains of a teaspoon!”

Ron turned away from Hermione and refused to talk to her for the remainder of the class. A few times, Ron noticed Hermione to open her mouth and try to say something, but would evidently give up and go back to her potion.

“Black, Weasley?” came Snape, who was starring over Ron’s shoulder and into the cauldron where a charcoal-type mixture was bubbling.

Ron gulped as he glanced at Hermione’s cauldron where a hot pink liquid was calmly steaming.

“Tell me, Weasley, did you not clearly read the third line of directions where it says to add a teaspoon of lacewing?”

“But it’s only a teaspoon!” came Ron, looking daggers at the teaspoon that lay at the other side of Hermione’s cauldron.

“Fail for Weasley,” said Snape cooly. “Perhaps next time you’ll remember that a teaspoon can make all the difference!”

Ron turned back to his charcoal cauldron and tried hopelessly to get the substance out of his cauldron.

For a moment, he glared at Hermione who was calmly dishing some hot-pink potion into a flask.

As Ron grabbed his bag and started heading out of the dungeons with Harry, Ron felt a small tap on his back.

“Don’t forget this,” said Hermione, putting the teaspoon into Ron’s charcoal-covered hand.

If it wasn’t for the black of his hands contrasting so greatly with the white parchment, Ron wouldn’t have noticed the note Hermione had slipped him under the teaspoon.

Ron carefully opened the paper, trying hard not to smudge it. A smile crossed his face as he read what was written on it.

A teaspoon can make all the difference. Love from, Hermione.

Ron folded the note and placed it in his pocket.

For a moment, he thought he had swallowed some of Hermione’s love potion. For, to Ron, Hermione had never looked more beautiful.