Harry’s Attempts at Matchmaking (With the Aid of Love Potion)

Please review…I might start posting some of the other fics I’ve written if I get some good feedback. If you can’t think of anything to say, just rate it. Please.

This hasn’t got anything to do with any of my other fics, and I don’t like Ron and Hermione going out, but they were necessary for the fic. This is set near the start of the Fifth year at Hogwarts for Harry and co.

Harry was sick of the way Ron and Hermione always argued with each other. It was obvious that they were meant to be with each other. So he’d come up with a foolproof (or so he thought) way of making them fancy each other. Let them get into an argument together, then put love potion in their drinks. They would drink them, and then fall wildly in love.

So now, as they sat at breakfast glaring at each other, Harry grabbed his chance, and the initiative. He dropped a couple of drops of love potion in each glass. Easy. Now all he had to do was watch his friends drink them. “You are not the authority on Quidditch, Ron! There are lots of things that you don’t know at all!” Hermione was shrieking, rather like a banshee. “Oh, and you know so much about Quidditch! Because you always have to be right, don’t you, Hermione? You can’t take it that you’re wrong!” The Gryffindor table was too used to this to bother listening, or even looking up.

“If you paid a bit more attention to work, instead of bothering about silly little things like Quidditch all the time, then maybe you wouldn’t be so thick!” Hermione yelled, draining her glass and slamming it down on the table an inch from Ron’s hand. Ron picked his own goblet up, and waved it in front of her face. “If you weren’t so self-obsessed – !” he started, but he was interrupted by the slow, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy.

“Are the Weasel and the Mudblood fighting again? How monotonous. And how very Gryffindor.” the slow, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy interrupted, and they all looked up, to find, not surprisingly, that Malfoy was standing near them. “Weasel, don’t tell me you’re having another lovers tiff.”

Ron’s face went red, and he said, heatedly, “Sod off, Malfoy, if you know what’s good for you.”

“What’s good for me? You don’t even have a wand!” snorted Malfoy, derisively. The tip of Ron’s nose went white, and he hurled his goblet of pumpkin juice all over Malfoy.

A now very dripping wet Malfoy glared down at Ron. “Is that the best you can do?” he sneered, and then he was gone. Harry was mildly annoyed. Ron had thrown away all of his love potion. All over Malfoy. All over Malfoy? “Oh, noooo.” Harry groaned as he realised what he’d done.

“I think I’ll just go and see if Draco’s alright.” Hermione said breathlessly, rising from her seat and hurrying away. Ron looked after her in horror. “What’s she doing?”

“You don’t think – not Hermione – she surely doesn’t fancy – Malfoy?” Harry asked, a little shocked.

“She called him Draco.” Ron said, thunderstruck. Harry wasn’t even listening. Oh no, what have I done? He thought. Let’s see…for the spell to be completed, Malfoy must have got some of that stuff in his mouth and swallowed it. Quick, the antidote! “Must go, Ron, urgent business to sort out, bye!” Harry gabbled and ran off upstairs.

Thankfully the antidote was easy to find in his potions book. But not so easy to make. It required simmering at two different points. And some ingredients that would have to be stolen from the Potions classroom. That would mean three night-time trips, two to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom to simmer the stuff and one to – Harry gulped – Snape’s dungeon.

Two days later, Draco and Hermione were the talk of the school. Everyone was wondering what was going on between them. All sorts of rumors were flying around the school, and most people were saying that Hermione had quite obviously brewed up a love potion, because Draco had all the signs of someone under the influence of the love potion. But Harry was ready. He made his way down to the Gryffindor Common Room, where Ron and Hermione were arguing again.

“But I love you, Hermione!” Ron howled, and Harry was impressed. Maybe this was what Ron had needed to finally get him to admit to it. “Well, I love Dracy! And there’s nothing you can do against our love!” “Love? He doesn’t love you! And why are you calling him Dracy? His name is Malfoy! Malfoy the Annoying, Malfoy the Mean, Malfoy the Evil, Malfoy the Amazing Bouncing Ferret! But not Dracy!”

Ron’s face was bright pink, with a spot of white on the end of his nose, and he was looking quite formidable.

Harry conjured up some tea, dropped some antidote in, and gave it to Hermione, saying calming words. She subsided into a chair, glaring evilly at Ron, and took a small sip of the tea, thanking Harry. Harry prayed. Please let the spell be broken, please let it work…

Suddenly Hermione stood up again. “Do you know what?” I think you’re right, Ron. I don’t love Malfoy at all. He’s a slimy little git.”

“Wha– too right he is.”

“I think I only said that because I was delirious.”

“Too right you were.”

“And I think that I really love you, Ron.”

“Wha– too right you do.” Ron said, and he kissed her.

And there were no more arguments.