A Vial of Submission

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine! Just JKR's and her various publishers. This also applies to all later chapters, as well.

"Shhh!" Harry hushed, bringing up a finger to hold against his lips. "We have to be quiet because they're sleeping," he whispered loudly.

Ron nodded vigorously and then gave a low moan. " 'M all dizzy," he slurred, stretching his hand out to steady himself against the wall.

Unfortunately for Ron, he missed the wall and got the door, and lost his footing with a fantastic bang as the door slammed against the wall. Neville gave a terrified yelp and sat up in bed with start.

"Christ!" Seamus grumbled. "Harry? Ron? Is that you?" he asked angrily, reaching for his wand. "Lumos," he muttered, holding the tip out in front of him

"Shhh!" Harry commanded imperiously. He gave Seamus a reproving look. "People are trying to sleep." He gestured grandly at Dean, who had slept through everything. "Come on, Ron," Harry coaxed, holding a hand out to help Ron up. Ron reached up, and it took a moment for the two to actually aim for each other's hands, sniggering all the while. Ron pulled and Harry toppled on top of him with a yelp.

"Will you two shut up?" Seamus hissed.

"Shhh!" Harry ordered. "Don't wake up Dean."

Harry and Ron managed to crawl to their respective beds without too much giggling. Although Ron had thought that Dean's bed was his own, and Seamus had gotten rather upset about that. Harry thought that Seamus was being too loud and told him so, which made Seamus even angrier. Finally, though, each boy was in his own bed.

"Goodnight Ron," Harry whispered. Ron mumbled something back.

"Goodnight, Neville."

"Goodnight, Harry," Neville said in a tired voice.

"Goodnight--"

"Say it Potter and I'll kill you," Seamus threatened.

In a very small whisper Harry said, "Goodnight Seamus." He smiled happily and snuggled into his pillow.

--

"Kill me, Voldermort," he begged

"Harry!" Hermione shrilled, scandalized. Ron and Harry winced, looking like they might cry. "It's your own fault for trusting the twins. Honestly, Ron, why you ever agreed to become their test subject is beyond me."

"For the money," Ron moaned. He looked at Hermione's plate of bacon and eggs and shuddered. "Can't you eat that somewhere else?" he pleaded. Hermione just stared at him, and Ron was the first to look away, switching his ire to the Great Hall. "Why does everyone have to be so fucking loud?" he moaned.

"It was good at first," Harry said mournfully. "But then it got a lot..." He looked at Ron.

"It got a lot," Ron agreed, feelingly. He nodded his head and then cringed in pain.

"Don't pain relieving potions work?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Madame Pomfrey won't give them to us!" Harry said bitterly. "She didn't believe us when we said we'd hit our heads."

"Wasn't the point of Fred and George's new product supposed to get you...drunk," Hermione said the word with great distaste, "without a hangover?"

"It sort of worked," Harry admitted. "We don't feel sick."

The headache didn't lessen as the day went on, and by the time they had Potions, he was seriously considering breaking into the Hospital Wing and raiding the potions cupboard.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter," Snape said smoothly as he walked into the classroom. "For an unkempt uniform," he added, as though remembering he needed at least the pretense of a reason for docking points. Harry couldn't even muster up the energy to glare hatefully.

"The instructions are on the board. You have one hour," Snape intoned, waving his wand at the board. Snape's tiny scrawl appeared and both Ron and Harry appealed to Hermione with pleading looks.

"I thought you'd be pleased," Hermione snapped impatiently. "It's a Pain Relieving potion. Harry, go get the cauldron," she ordered. "Ron, come with me to get the ingredients." Hermione stalked off to the storeroom and Ron followed her, head bowed, complaining.

Neville dropped his cauldron and Harry whimpered at the loud noise. Neville looked at him apologetically before Snape descended on him, taking points off for irresponsible handling of equipment. The pounding in his head and the pressure behind his eyes were driving Harry insane.

"Watch it, Potter," Zabini said shortly when Harry bumped into him.

Harry mumbled and apology and reached for a cauldron. He didn't notice the stunned look on Zabini's face.

The potion was a perfect shade a blue, the second to the last stage before they'd be done. "You'll have to wait for it to cool," Hermione warned, adding in the salamander tails. Ron and Harry nodded dumbly.

"Goyle, look out!" Harry heard Malfoy cry. He turned around and saw Goyle trip and stumble in Harry's direction. In the corner of his eye he could see Hermione's surprised expression.

"Hermione the--" Harry started to say, but Goyle careened into Harry, who was shoved against the table, which caused the table to tip over and the cauldron to land upside-down on the floor.

"Detention, Potter," Snape said somewhere above Harry, who was squashed beneath Goyle. "It was your haphazardly placed book bag that caused Mr. Goyle to fall." Snape sounded rather muffled to Harry, but he gathered that Snape wasn't confessing his undying love for him. Harry sighed, grateful when Goyle got off of him.

"Harry." Hermione bit her lip. "Harry, the potion..." she trailed off, gesturing to the floor.

"That'll be a zero for today," Snape said smoothly. Hermione flinched as though she'd been slapped. Ron sighed. Snape left and began to inspect a nervous Neville's potion.

He really hated today.

****

Hermione left them after their class to go study in the library. The entire day she had been quiet, not even raising her hand once in Herbology. That she hadn't even invited them to study with her told the boys that Hermione was in desperate need of alone time. Ron and Harry went upstairs to sleep off the rest of their hangovers, which hadn't lessened in any way throughout the day. Harry had almost fallen asleep when Neville burst into the room with a loud whoop.

"Neville, I will kill you," Harry swore.

"They worked!" Neville shouted. "He said there was nothing wrong with them!"

"Snape?" Ron asked, eyeing the bottles Neville was setting down on his nightstand.

"Yes," Neville said. "Just wait till I tell my Gran!"

"Neville," Harry began, struggling for calmness. "Neville, you have Pain Relieving potions?" he asked.

"And Snape said they were fine?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Neville said happily. "I'm going to go to the Owlrey and tell Gram." He grabbed his cloak and scarf and tore out of the room.

Ron and Harry leapt out of bed and stood side by side at Neville's nightstand. "One of them is a lighter blue than the other," Ron noted dubiously, pointing to one of the vials.

"Whatever," Harry said eagerly, reaching for it. "What does the color matter? Snape said they were fine, didn't he?" He uncorked the bottle with his teeth and guzzled down the potion. Harry swayed. "Wow," he said, blinking.

Ron still looked dubious, but when Harry didn't faint or foam at the mouth or explode, he shrugged his shoulders and reached for a bottle. He grimaced.

"I hate how foul those things are," he said, shuddering at the aftertaste.

"Yours was bad?" Harry asked, surprised. "Mine tasted like apples. Maybe Neville improved on Snape's recipe? No more pain though, anyway."

Ron's stomach growled and they laughed, leaving the room in high spirits.

As they walked down the stairs to the Great Hall Harry started to feel peculiar. Oh, nothing was really wrong but he felt...fluttery and nervous, as though he had forgotten something. He tugged at his shirt, fretting at a loose thread.

"You alright, mate?" Ron asked, giving him a funny look.

"Yeah!" Harry said brightly, beaming at Ron. "Are, are you happy, Ron?" he asked, his smile faltering. Harry felt stretched tight with nerves, the same way he used to feel when the Dursleys would inspect his worth. Was it good enough? Would they like it?

"Wish I had a better broom," Ron said absently as he looked at the portraits. "Hey, there's a Quidditch Captain in the painting with the chickens." He laughed, pointing.

"You can have my Firebolt," Harry said in a rush, looking eagerly at Ron.

Ron's mouth dropped and he stared at Harry. "I'll go get it right now," Harry said excitedly, turning to race back up the stairs. He got as far as the next step before Ron's hand yanked him back.

"Harry!" Ron said, utterly gobsmacked. "You think I want your Firebolt?" Ron asked.

Harry winced. "Was I insensitive? Of course I was! Your brothers have been going you their old stuff all of your life, and here I go be a prat and offer you my used Firebolt." he asked, his eyes clouded with remorse. "I'm sorry!" Harry cried, wrapping his arms around Ron and burying his face in Ron's shoulder.

Ronald Weasley had thought that he had been shocked when he learned that the boy his mum helped get through Platform Nine and Three Quarters was Harry Potter. He thought he'd been shocked when Harry had become the youngest seeker in a century. He thought he'd been shocked when he saw Hermione in that dress for the Yule Ball with Victor Krum. Compared to this, though, those other times were merely minor tingly sensations.

Traffic had frozen on the stairs, people staring outright at the two boys. A flustered Third Year Ravenclaw actually lost her footing on an invisible step. Whispers of a lovers' tiff were already spreading, and Ron felt his face flush with embarrassment. This was definitely not going to improve his chances of getting a girlfriend. Ron patted Harry's back awkwardly and gently disentangled himself from Harry.

"Let's get out of here," he muttered to Harry, jamming his hands in his pockets and walking quickly down the rest of the stairs. Harry sniffed and followed Ron, completely unaware of the scene he had just caused. "It's um, okay," Ron said as they entered the Great Hall. "I know you were just trying to be a mate," he finished, very uncomfortable with the emotional look in Harry's eyes.

"I just want you to be happy," Harry said eagerly, his eyes shining.

"I'm happy, I'm happy," Ron assured him. He looked at Harry. "I think maybe the twins' new product isn't settling well with you. Maybe I should owl them and let them know not to sell it before fixing..." he paused, looking at Harry's earnest face, "whatever it is that's wrong with you," he finished lamely.

Harry laughed. "I feel great," he assured Ron. He missed that fluttering feeling he had on the staircase when he'd asked Ron if he were happy, but he felt enormously relieved to know that Ron hadn't been offended by his offer. He beamed at Ron, who looked rather alarmed.

"If you're sure," Ron said doubtfully, reaching over Harry's plate for the mashed potatoes.

"Oh, I'll get that Ron," Harry said, dropping his fork on his plate and picking up the bowl. He didn't notice how a good portion of the table stopped eating to stare at him. He served Ron with a look of bliss on his face. "Is that enough? Do you want anymore?" he asked.

"Uh..." Ron stuttered, his ears burning red.

"I'll have some, Harry," Seamus broke in, stretching out his plate. "It's the least you can do after last night."

"I'm really sorry about last night, Seamus," Harry said, wincing as he leaned over the table to serve Seamus. He opened his mouth to offer his Firebolt when he remembered Ron. "Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?" he asked instead, blushing and looking up at Seamus through his lashes.

Seamus' eyes widened. Harry bit his lip, once again feeling nervous. Goosebumps tingled on his arms, and he licked his lips. Seamus hadn't said anything, and the stretch of silence pressured Harry to babble, offering anything. "You probably don't want my Firebolt, but I have a neat quill that punctuates your sentences. And I have some Honeydukes chocolate, and, and," Harry stutterd. Seamus just continued to stare at him, and Harry began to blink back tears. Suddenly it came to him. What if Seamus didn't want things? What if he wanted....something else from Harry.

Harry took a breath and looked Seamus in the eyes. "Or maybe we could do something else," he said softly. He saw the connection Seamus made, and Harry's breath became shallower as Seamus gave Harry a roaming, appraising look.

Whatever Seamus might have said was interrupted by Neville shaking Harry on the shoulder. Neville looked agitated and was clutching the two empty vials of potion that Harry and Ron had drunk. "Harry, someone drank my potions!" Neville said, his face pale.

"Oh, sorry about that, Neville," Ron said sheepishly. "Harry and I had splitting headaches today, and we drank them. Sorry about that. We'll make you more if you want."

"But that wasn't a Pain Relieving potion," Neville said, growing pale. "That was the Draught of Submission." All eyes turned to Harry.

TBC