Weasley, Ron Weasley

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley wound their way through the Great Hall and headed towards the Gryffindor table. Hermione Granger already sat there with the rest of the Gryffindor fifth-years. The enchanted ceiling slid into darkness and bright pinpricks of starlight popped forth until the entire sky winked above them. The steady buzzing of hundreds of voices surrounded them and was broken by an occasional guffaw. As they passed the Ravenclaw table, Ron dug his elbow into Harry's ribs.

"Oy Harry! There's Evelyn Watson," Ron whispered, staring slack-jawed at a pretty, black-haired girl. He smoothed down the front of his dirt-streaked robes (Professor Sprout had made them weed the garden today) and flashed Evelyn a cheery, toothy grin. She looked blankly at Ron, skimmed quickly over him and settled on Harry. She smiled shyly at Harry and batted her eyelashes. Evelyn waved.

"Er, she's waving at you Ron," said Harry. He glanced sideways at Ron who scowled and turned a blotchy red.

Harry muttered a quick hello as he and Ron passed Evelyn. Ron, however, said nothing until they sat down at their own House table. He propped his chin on his hand and said morosely through his fingers, "She waved at you Harry, not me. No one ever notices me." Ron grimaced.

"Oh, she did?" Harry lied. He looked up across the table and found Hermione watching them with a curious look on her face. Harry gave his head a small shake and Hermione shrugged her shoulders.

Hermione leaned forwards and her gold Prefect badge gleamed in the candlelight. She eyed them intently and said, breaking the silence, "Have you guys started studying for the Potions test next week?"

"No," said Harry and Ron at the same time. Dinner appeared in front of them. Harry reached out and speared a sizzling pork chop with his fork. Ron spooned mashed potatoes onto his plate and drowned it under a boatful of gravy. Hermione nibbled on her own pork chop as the rest of the Gryffindors dug into the steaming plates of food.

"You really should, you know. Snape will have your heads if you do badly on this test," Hermione said.

"Yeah, yeah. Snape seems to be the only one who ever notices me. I mean, besides you two," Ron munched on his food. "But how am I to study when I haven't even opened my book yet."

"You haven't?!" shrieked Hermione, clearly scandalized. Despite many loud and obvious sighs, and appeals for quiet, Hermione lectured them on the evils of procrastination all through dinner and up to the Common Room, stopping only to declare the password to the Fat Lady ("Pickled Herring").

Once the portrait swung open and the door to the Gryffindor Common Room came into view, Ron sprinted inside, grabbed his textbook and threw himself into a cushy red armchair by the fireplace. He wrenched the book open and stared intently down at it. Hermione watched him and smiled triumphantly.

"I knew you would see reason!" Hermione smiled. She glided up the stairs and into the girls' dormitory.

Harry, however, had a sneaking suspicion that Ron had only stuck his nose into his book to get Hermione to stop harassing them. He stretched out on the red sofa across from Ron, put his hands behind his head and said, "You're not really studying, are you?"

"Nope. Is she gone?" Ron asked, looking furtively around the Common Room. Groups of other Gryffindors sat scattered at tables and armchairs, but no Hermione.

"Yeah," Harry grinned. He watched Ron slump back into the armchair. The textbook slid down Ron's lap.

"Finally!" Ron exclaimed loudly. "I thought she would never shut up. Really, she talks way too much! I mean, who studies weeks before a test? We've got loads of time to study Snape's smelly old potions. And besides, when am I ever going to need this stuff anyway?"

Ron waved a hand over his textbook and rifled through the pages. He rolled his eyes and looked down at the page he had stopped at, "Honestly Harry, am I ever going to need to use - " Ron stopped, his eye's widened and his jaw dropped. "Harry!" he shouted.

"What?" Harry asked, sitting up. Several seventh years from a table not too far away glared at them.

"This is what I need! Harry, take a look at this!" Ron jabbed a finger excitedly onto his book.

Harry leaned over and focused his eyes on the yellowing parchment page. "Hairy Ears Potion? Why? You got hairy ears you need to get rid of, Ron?

"No!" Ron cried. He prodded the page harder, and stared at Harry with an outrageous glint in his eyes. "This! Allure Juice!" Ron gripped the arms of the chair and gazed dreamily up at the darkened ceiling. "Just imagine -" he trailed off.

"What's it supposed to do?" Harry asked. He snatched the book off of Ron's lap and read the passage halfway down the page. "Allure Juice," Harry read, "For instant attraction, glamour, charm and mystique. Intended for the hopelessly gauche, unsophisticated, and often overlooked witch or wizard. Sounds great Ron, but have you looked at the ingredients list? Honestly, where do you think you'll find yellow beetle eyes, flaming holly, and not to mention powdered dragon hide? And where do you hope to mix up this potion?

"Not to worry, Harry. Leave it to me," Ron grinned blissfully. "This is going to be great, I'll be popular - for once in my life!"