Do I Need This?

Do I Need This?

Ron sat on his bed and reread the slip of parchment he'd taken from his trunk. The words on it hadn't changed; they still specified that (blank space for signature) gave his or her permission for Ron Weasley to be given a potion which would reduce the chances of him catching a sexually-transmitted disease, as well as lowering his sperm count to make it less likely that he could get a girl pregnant. The words had been the same all eighteen times he'd read it now, and he didn't think they were likely to change.

'Do I even need this?' he asked himself. 'What are the chances of my being in any situation this year where I might sleep with a girl?'

Ron tried to imagine asking his father -- or worse, his mother -- to sign the form. It wasn't as if he'd have to explain what it meant, it was all spelt out, right there on the permission form; reading between the lines, it also said 'Your son is growing up faster than you realised, and this is probably going to be necessary soon'.

He looked at it again, and thought about how each of his five brothers must have had the same form, the same experience, the same trepidation when they had to go and ask their father to sign it. Even Percy -- probably -- must have had to face this, judging by the way that he and Harry had almost caught him and Penelope together in the dungeons at Christmas in their second year. He grinned at the thought.

Of course, Ginny had actually caught Percy kissing Penelope ... and next year, she'd have a similar form. He tried not to think about that. Despite Ginny's crush on Harry, Ron knew that Harry was interested in Cho Chang. Well, he had been, until he knew that Cho was invited to the Yule Ball by Cedric Diggory. Would Cedric's death change Harry's feelings? He tried to think about Neville and Ginny dancing together instead -- surely Neville would be too shy to ever do anything.

Ginny would probably ask their mother, rather than their father, to sign her form. He wondered if any of their brothers had asked her to sign their form, or if they'd all chosen to ask their father. Somehow, it just seemed easier for the boys to ask him, rather than their mother.

*

Outside in the field, Fred and George were enjoying the sunshine, and discussing new ideas for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes where their mother couldn't hear them.

'What's Ron up to?' wondered Fred. 'He seems to be spending all his time in his room lately.'

'He's sixteen next year. He's probably got the Nonpater permission slip, and is trying to get up the courage to ask Dad to sign it,' said George.

'Oh, if that's it, we ought to go and help him decide,' said Fred with a wide grin.

'And definitely not tease him unmercifully?'

'Well, maybe a bit.'

*

Ron thought about what it must have been like for Bill, as the oldest, to first bring one of these forms home. How had he approached it? He'd probably have gone straight up to his father without all these doubts, Ron admitted. That was the courage that led him to become a Gringotts curse-breaker, instead of taking the safe Ministry job their father had tried to get him to take.

Ron thought back to the Yule Ball in the past year, and the arguments he'd had with Hermione -- before, during and after the Ball! He sighed, and looked again at the slip. What chance was there now that she'd be even the slightest bit interested in ... well, him? And even if she was, did it matter if he took the boys' potion, as long as she took the girls' one? How would she even be able to tell? Would a green spot appear on his forehead to show that he was 'safe' when he took it? He grinned at the thought.

Then he thought harder about it. There certainly weren't any pupils he'd ever seen at Hogwarts walking about with green spots on their foreheads -- but what about elsewhere? There was another obvious, but hidden, place where the spot would make perfect sense; or perhaps a green stripe instead? He wished he dared ask someone. Fred and George would tease him if he asked, and probably make something up. Percy wouldn't answer. Bill and Charlie would probably answer, but they weren't even in the country.

Suddenly, he gulped, realising he'd been completely overlooking two other family members; both his parents had been Hogwarts students in their day, hadn't they? They'd know. But ... 'Ick! No! I don't even want to think about them as students and having to get these signed!'

He shook his head energetically and tried to clear those thoughts out of his mind by going back to imagining Hermione: how she'd looked dancing at the Ball, how she usually looked at school, how she might look in a more intimate setting. He suddenly remembered that during their second and third years at Hogwarts, Hermione had come into their dormitory on Christmas Day and woken both him and Harry, even though girls weren't supposed to be allowed in the boys' dormitories, any more than boys were allowed in the girls' dormitories. He drifted off into thoughts of what might have happened if Harry had gone back to the Dursleys' or to stay with Sirius over Christmas ...

He was brought back to reality when his door opened, and the twins entered.

'What happened to knocking?' asked Ron irritably, while his hand surreptitiously hid the parchment slip under his pillow.

'I knew it,' said George, 'it's that permission slip.'

Ron glared at them. 'Even if you're right, why does it matter?'

'We just wanted to help you decide,' said Fred innocently. 'When you were given the form, did anyone explain to you that girls can tell if you've taken the potion?'

'No. How can they tell?'

'Your balls turn green to show that you're "safe",' said George.

'Let's see them then.'

'What?' asked the twins together.

'You've both taken this potion, right? So show me just how green they go.'

The twins looked at each other, then at Ron. 'OK, you caught us,' said George.

'So, is there any way at all a girl can tell if you've taken it?'

'No; she just has to trust you, or rely on the potion she took,' said George.

'So, you're hoping to get further with Padma Patil?' said Fred, trying to get back to them teasing Ron instead of the unfamiliar reverse.

Ron laughed. 'I don't think Padma would be interested in me after the Yule Ball.' Nor would Hermione, he thought sadly to himself.

This conversation was not going according to the twins' plan; Ron was no longer the eleven-year-old who could believe that Sorting hurt a lot, and involved wrestling a troll.

'Well, we'll be out in the field if you want any autographs done, or advice on talking to Dad,' said George, leaving the room. Fred followed him.

'Autographs?' wondered Ron. He hadn't considered forging his father's signature, but it sounded as if Fred and George had done just that with their permission slips. He'd assumed they'd had the courage to ask, especially as they outnumbered their father.

He looked at the permission form again. It still had exactly the same words as it had done the first eighteen times. He admitted it to himself: he was never going to be able to ask either of his parents to sign this, and he didn't like the idea of forging a signature. He wouldn't even be sixteen until after Christmas, as his birthday was in March. Maybe -- if Hermione did turn out to be interested after all, and if there really were some way that she could tell if he'd taken the potion -- he could send the form back home with Pig and avoid actually having to talk to his father face-to-face about it.

He thought about that idea for a while, and decided it sounded like the best approach. Basically, he admitted to himself, the form was just the school being excessively cautious, and fanning the embers of his daydreams. He wasn't really going to need it. Hermione certainly wouldn't be interested in him in that way -- not now, after their rows about the Yule Ball -- and he couldn't think of any other girls at school who would be interested in him, either. He sighed and put the form back in his trunk, still unsigned. Then he headed downstairs, to go and join the twins in the field and see if they were planning more items for their joke shop -- anything to take his mind off Hermione and impossible daydreams.