Cupid and His Twin by Leora V
Summary: Valentine's Day is nigh at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and an unexpected couple is making the halls buzz. But are Malfoy and Hermione really made for each other, or is it just another joke?
Categories: Humor Fics Characters: None
Warnings: None
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 4 Completed: Yes Word count: 7210 Read: 8858 Published: 11/09/04 Updated: 12/17/04

1. One: The Confusion Begins by Leora V

2. Two: The Truth Revealed... to Those Who Pay Attention by Leora V

3. Three: Snape Gets Involved and the Twins Present a Lame Defense by Leora V

4. Things Come to a Head by Leora V

One: The Confusion Begins by Leora V
Snow fluttered to the ground as a chill wind whipped up miniature snowstorms on the grounds of Hogwarts School. Oblivious of the snowflakes falling into their bright red, and now rather wet, hair, Fred and George Weasley lounged indolently on the shore of the half frozen lake, occasionally tossing bits of leftover toast to the giant squid. Classes had ended for the day not too long ago, so students were prowling the grounds, putting off doing their homework. A couple of third years had begun a snowball fight and were now screeching and chucking balls of snow at each other.

“It’s that time of year again,” George pointed out mournfully, shredding a piece of toast.

“So it is,” Fred agreed. He poked a bit of toast with his wand, watching distractedly as it grew to the size of a small watermelon and then exploded with a loud POP, spewing toast guts into the air. “I think we’re rather overdue for a bit of fun. What say you?” he added, brushing toast off his robes and scarf.

George eyed his twin quizzically. “Pray tell, divulge your mighty plans, oh ingenious one,” he asked dryly. “What could you possibly have in mind a mere five days before Valentine’s Day?”

Fred grinned and looked pointedly towards the opposite shore where Hermione was engaged in a heated argument with Draco Malfoy. Harry and Ron were discussing something else entirely, ignoring Hermione’s indignant retorts to Malfoy’s drawling insults.

A look of sly cunning oozed slowly across George’s mischievous countenance. “I don’t know how well I’ll look as a small, fat, cherub,” he said by way of agreement, “but I’m willing to try it.”

“I think we could put Cupid out of a job this February.” Fred smiled toothily. “Come on.”

They both stood up and headed back into the castle, making their way up to Gryffindor Tower.



“Ooh, that Malfoy!” Hermione fumed as she, Harry, and Ron sat down to breakfast later that week. “Who does he think he is? That great, big ”” Hermione broke off, apparently unable to find the words to describe just exactly what Malfoy was. She huffed angrily and viciously skewered a sausage.

Harry shrugged. He had long known what a great git Malfoy was and was rather surprised it had taken Hermione this long to figure it out. He took a gulp of his pumpkin juice and pointed out, “Well, you can expect more of him this morning. We’ve got double potions with Slytherin first thing.”

Ron groaned into his eggs. “What a lovely start to a Thursday.” He raised his goblet in mock salute towards the Slytherins. “May they fall into the lake and get eaten by the giant squid! And may Snape trip and fall into Malfoy’s cauldron and drown,” he added as an afterthought.

Harry grinned and raised his own goblet. “Hear, hear! Though the squid gets the shorter end of the deal, really. Feel sorry for it.” They both grinned and took a long draft of their pumpkin juice. As they lowered their goblets, Hermione shrieked in dismay.

“Fred!” she yelled. “What were you doing?”

Ron and Harry turned in the twins’ direction to find Fred hastily mopping up spilled pumpkin juice and attempting to keep it from running over the edge of the table onto Hermione. George righted Hermione’s goblet as Fred apologized profusely.

“Sorry, Hermione, really, I am. Here,” Fred shoved his own goblet towards her. “Take mine. I don’t want it, and I’ve gone and spilled all yours. So sorry, Hermione.”

Hermione groaned, frustrated, and since her breakfast was now a soggy, pumpkin flavored ooze, she downed Fred’s goblet in one, angry swig. Slamming the goblet back onto the table, she picked up her schoolbooks and stalked from Great Hall.

Ron and Harry exchanged looks. “Guess we better go after her then,” Harry decided, and they both stood and followed Hermione.



“Today,” Snape began the lesson, striding up to the front of the class, “we will be concocting the highly involved and very difficult ”” Neville groaned softly, “” Invulnerability Brew. It is highly useful in combat, as it protects the drinker from all of the most common curses, jinxes, and hexes but it is nuisance in any other situation. Instructions are on the board,” Snape flicked his wand at the blackboard and the ingredients and method appeared. “Begin.”

“Hey, Potter,” Malfoy whispered from behind Harry. “What are you and your girlfriend doing this weekend, Potter? Have a romantic date planned for you and the mudblood?”

Feeling his temper rise, Harry concentrated on ignoring Malfoy and powdering his dragon claw.

“Shut it, Malfoy,” Ron muttered.

“Why, Weasley? Jealous? Bet you’d never be able to afford a date, even with a mudblood like her””

“I said shut it, Malfoy! If you call Hermione a ” that word ” one more time, I swear I’ll””

“Threats, Weasley?” Snape murmured admonishingly, his voice loud enough to carry to the whole class. “Ten points from Gryffindor.” Ron glared daggers at Snape’s back as he swept away and Malfoy was having trouble controlling his malignant laughter. Hermione turned around to retort, but as her eyes made contact with Malfoy’s, a strange expression crossed her face. To Harry’s amazement, Hermione blushed. She turned back to her cauldron and Harry looked, confused, at Malfoy, who was staring at nothing with a foolish grin on his face. Ron was too busy bashing up his dragon claw to have noticed, so Harry finished the rest of his Invulnerability Brew in bewildered silence.

When class ended, Harry scooped up a sample of his potion and placed it on Snape’s desk, Turning back to clean up, he saw Hermione had already finished and had gone on ahead, seemingly intent on catching up with Malfoy. As Harry left class, he explained, in whispers, to Ron what had transpired when he was too angry to notice.

“Weird,” Ron agreed, as they walked into History of Magic, “but maybe Malfoy has, I dunno, developed telepathy, or something, and they were communicating, you know, telepathically.”

“Right, Ron,” Harry said disbelievingly. “But that still doesn’t account for that look on Malfoy’s face. I mean, usually he’s looking pretty full of himself when he’s pulled of some trick like that.”

That sat down next to Hermione, who barely even registered their presence. She, like Malfoy not too long ago, was staring into space with a look of foolish happiness. Ron gave her a weird look and seemed about to ask her a question, but Professor Binns began first, heading off any further conversation for the moment.

Nearly all the way through the lesson, Harry was interrupted from a daydream (in which he’d been trying to stuff the snitch down Malfoy’s throat,) by Ron leaning over to Hermione and asking her, “What’s wrong with you?”

Hermione looked startled, as if she had only just noticed Ron was there. “Wrong? With me? Why, nothing, really.” She smiled dreamily. “I feel better than I’ve ever felt before!” She sighed happily, returning to her notes.

Ron gave Harry an exasperated look. “Just leave her alone. Let her take her notes.” Harry stifled a yawn. “Or else we’ll fail the class.” Ron grinned at the truth in that statement.

“What’s Binns talking about just now? Gobrid the Garish?” Ron leaned over to look at Hermione’s notes. She moved a hand to cover them, but too late.
Ron let out a strangled noise. “What is this?” he exclaimed as the bells rang, ending class. He jumped up with Hermione’s parchment.

“Give it back!” she screeched. Several people leaving the classroom gave her weird looks, but she ignored them and tried to jump Ron, who was, unfortunately for her, taller. “Ron!”

“Just let me read this thing, Hermione! Dearest Draco, ”” Ron cast a bewildered look at Hermione who was scrabbling at Ron’s wrist frantically.

“Ron! Give it back! Stop reading it!” Hermione yelled. Ron just shook her off and scanned the rest of the parchment.

Never before have I felt such an overwhelming torrent of emotions, tumbling around in my” What is this drivel, Hermione?”

“Here, give it to me,” Harry reached out, by now sufficiently curious to take Ron’s side. He grabbed the parchment from Ron’s fingers and continued, “I feel the need to speak, my dear Draco, and to give vent to these thoughts and feelings which have all of a sudden, like lightning across the sky, taken root in my heart... What the”? And what’s this? ...Even as I write these words, my heart is beating faster and faster at the thought of you reading this letter. For there is yet one question that remains unanswered”

“I’m not sure I want to know what that question is,” Ron interjected, still fighting to keep Hermione from reaching Harry.

“Well, here it is,” Harry continued. “...These feelings for you which have come alight in my breast... do you reciprocate them? Or shall I continue to wallow in misery at the painful thought that my love must remain unrequited?” Harry stared, completely pole axed, at Hermione. Ron was no longer putting up much of a fight, so Hermione was able to break through and rip the parchment from Harry’s hand. Her cheeks were flaming as she folded it neatly and then stuffed her books into her bag. She practically ran out of the classroom, saying nothing to either of them.

“C’mon, Ron,” Harry said after a moment of stunned silence. “We’ll be late...”

“Yeah. Right,” Ron agreed, absentmindedly gathering his books and heading towards the grounds for Care of Magical Creatures.
Two: The Truth Revealed... to Those Who Pay Attention by Leora V
Care of Magical Creatures was interesting only because both Hermione and Malfoy were not there. Their absences were made even more conspicuous (at least to Harry and Ron,) because of certain recent revelations.

“You don’t think she actually gave it to him, do you?” Ron asked Harry worriedly, surreptitiously glancing around, as if Hermione might pop out of nowhere at any time.

They were supposed to be studying the crup leashed in front of them and making note of the differences between itself and a normal Jack Russell terrier. They ignored the animal, however, and sensing their disinterest, the crup ran around in circles, barking for their attention. Harry absently reached out and patted it on the head.

“I hope not,” Harry replied. “What do you think has gotten into her?”

“Well,” Ron appeared deep in thought. “It is, what, two days until Valentine’s Day? Maybe she’s getting desperate...”’

“Yeah, but Malfoy?” Harry pointed out.

They didn’t speak for the rest of the period, each lost in their own thoughts. The crup barked, but other than moral, fluffy, support, was unable to give any other helpful insight into their problem.



Hermione didn’t show up again until lunch, which, far from giving Harry and Ron any relief, only made them more apprehensive. For when she arrived, she sat down, her cheeks flushed, and pulled out another piece of parchment. This time she offered no resistance when Harry pulled it from her grasp, but merely stared over at Slytherin table with misty-eyed happiness.

“What’s it now?” Ron asked. “A poem, perhaps?”

Harry’s expression was one of entertained disgust. “No, worse. It’s from him. Get this:

“Dearest Hermione,
Your letter has, I must admit, put to rest my fears that my love for you would, as you so eloquently put it, ‘remain unrequited’. It is with great joy that I pledge my love to you in this letter, although I hope that soon I may be able to voice my feelings to you personally, and not through such impartial medium as parchment and ink.”


“’Impartial medium’? What kind of codswallop is that?” Ron asked indignantly. Harry ignored him and continued:

“It is my continuing hope that past differences will not interfere with what I feel could become a blooming love, if attended to properly.”

“’Blooming love’?” Ron spluttered, choking on his pumpkin juice. “Blooming idiot, more like!”

“Would you stop interrupting? Otherwise we’ll never get through this thing! It’s like a small novel!” Harry exclaimed.

“Fine, fine, continue with the torture...”

Harry smiled grimly and did so:

“For you, my dearest bloom of perfection, are a dream come true for me. All my life I have told myself that I would never stumble upon a love so perfect as this! But now it is as obvious to me as writing on the wall that this love was meant to be ””


“Stop! Now!” Ron begged, a small moan escaping from where he was bashing his head against the table.

Harry laughed and grabbed Ron’s head before it could make contact again.

“Why are you laughing?” Ron asked accusatorially, rubbing his forehead. “How is this funny?”

“It’s extremely funny, little bro,” Fred said, from next to Ron. “Take a look at the lovebirds.” He pointed with his fork at Hermione and Malfoy, who were now staring at each other from across Great Hall. Neither was eating or paying any attention to anyone around them.

Ron groaned again and let his head fall to the table, narrowly missing his soup.

Suddenly, Hermione and Draco both stood up and turned to leave. They rendezvoused at the entrance and left Great Hall hand in hand.

Fred, and George leapt up grinning. “Oh, we have got to see this!” George voiced the thought on their minds. Harry and Ron looked up to see them leaving.

“Hey! Wait up!” Harry shouted. The two jumped up and ran after them.

“How can you even want to witness this? It’s sickening!” Ron added, disgusted.



The four boys followed Hermione and Malfoy at a distance out onto the grounds, where the two sat down underneath a barren tree. Fred and George hid behind a nearby bush and Harry and Ron followed them.

“Oh my love,” Malfoy was saying, clasping Hermione’s hand. She stared adoringly into his eyes. Ron made a retching noise. “I fear, dear Hermione,” Malfoy continued, “that this love will never survive in such a society as that which surrounds us.”

“No, dear love, say not such things! Love can endure all things, and so must ours! Or else, my dear heart, I fear I must surely die!” Hermione collapsed into Malfoy’s arms.

Malfoy made soothing noises as he patted Hermione’s head. “Do not fear, darling. You shall not need to resort to such tragic measures. I can feel it my very soul that ours is not a love doomed to end in tragedy,” he declared, having changed his mind rather quickly about the state of things, Harry thought.

Ron snorted loudly. Harry elbowed him in the ribs, but Ron whispered sarcastically, “Doomed? Them? Never!”

Hermione sighed mournfully, too wrapped up in her misery to have heard Ron’s noise. She pulled away slightly and asked, “But what will our friends say of us should they learn of this?”

“Should we learn of them... How dense would we have to be not to notice?” Ron muttered.

“Fear not, my sweet. I am quite sure, that, given time, we can win them to our side. For nothing is more worthy than true love! None but the foulest of dark creatures would dare stand in our way!” Malfoy declared.

“That’s right, Ron,” George whispered. “We knew all along there was something fishy about you and I think Malfoy’s hit it right on the nose, there. ‘Foulest of dark creatures’... Has a nice ring to it.”

“Stuff it, you, I’m trying to hear,” Ron muttered.

Malfoy had pulled Hermione closer to him, and now he was speaking into the top of her head. “I had never dreamed in all my life... Never even bothered to fantasize...” he murmured.

Harry grinned at Ron who gave him a look of disgust. “Enjoying this, are you? This is sick.”

“C’mon, Ron, you don’t find this even a little bit funny? I mean, think about it, Malfoy and Hermione. Together. How impossible is that? It’s like a colossal joke.”

Ron glowered at Harry and looked away, but the twins gave Harry thumbs up and winked. Comprehension suddenly came to Harry. He opened his mouth, but Fred put a finger to his lips. Instead Harry mouthed, “You?” They nodded and grinned. Harry could feel a slow smile creeping across his face. He couldn’t help thinking about how much Ron, Hermione, and Malfoy were going to hate Fred and George when this was all over. He laughed quietly. Ron gave him a scathing look.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he asked angrily.

“No, it’s you who doesn’t get it, little bro. Haven’t caught on yet, have you?” Fred asked mischievously. “Time to leave the two lovebirds to their own devices.” The twins casually stood up and walked away. Harry poked his head over the bush and saw Hermione and Malfoy were too busy with each other to notice anything else. He pulled Ron up and they walked back to the castle, Ron fuming silently, and Harry laughing to himself.



That night in the common room, Ron, dragging Harry along, converged upon Hermione, demanding to know what was going on.

“I mean, it’s Malfoy for goodness’ sake!” Ron ranted. “When has he ever been deserving of your attentions? To him you’re just a ” you know ” not pureblood,” he finished lamely.

Hermione eyed him coldly, if a little distractedly. Clearly her mind was still on Dearest Draco. “I was right,” she declared. “I knew that you would never be able to accept Draco and me together. He is so naive, dear Draco,” she smiled slightly, “he claimed that you would understand. Silly boy.”

Ron was opening and closing his mouth, clearly at a loss for words. He turned to Harry for help. Harry shrugged, trying to keep himself from smiling. Fred and George were geniuses. How did they ever manage to make Hermione and Draco of all people fall in love? Harry knew he should probably tell Ron, but he was having too much fun watching Ron flounder in incredulity.

“True love,” Harry began imperiously, “cannot be destroyed by any means we possess, dear Ronald.” He had a hard time not laughing at the look on Ron’s face as he, in Ron’s mind, sided with the enemy. Hermione was giving Harry a look of mindless adoration. He found it rather unnerving.

“Oh, Harry!” She threw herself at Harry, embracing him emotionally. “I knew that you would understand!” Disentangling herself she ran up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories, but not before pausing to blow Harry a kiss.

Once she was out of earshot, Harry collapsed into an armchair laughing. Ron looked at him with a bemused expression. “I still don’t understand how you find this so funny,” he muttered, flinging himself into the armchair across from Harry’s. “This is so wrong. Don’t you get it? Hermione and Malfoy.” Ron shuddered.

“It’s you who doesn’t get it, Ron. C’mon,” Harry got up, “Let’s go to bed. I’m too tired to do any homework.”

Ron grunted in assent and stood up. “I still don’t understand why you were laughing,” he grumbled as they took the stairs two at a time. “It just isn’t funny.”

Harry grinned at his friend.
Three: Snape Gets Involved and the Twins Present a Lame Defense by Leora V
Hermione awoke early on Friday with a pleasant buzzing feeling. Nothing, she felt, could ruin such a lovely day! She jumped out of bed, and, humming, pulled on her robes. She paid uncharacteristic attention to her hair this morning, as she wanted it to look perfect for her love. With a satisfying jolt, she suddenly remembered that tomorrow was Valentine’s Day. Excitedly, she wondered what Draco had planned for her. She was sure it would be something absolutely spectacular. No other girl was as lucky as she, to have such a lovely boyfriend! Ron and Harry just didn’t understand. She sighed. Ron was especially against it, although Harry seemed to view the whole thing as a joke, which, in her mind, was worse than outright opposition. But they would come to accept Draco and her together soon enough, she was sure of it.

The other Gryffindor girls were beginning to stir. A few rolled out of their beds and sleepily began to prepare themselves for the day. Parvati Patil came up behind Hermione. She stood behind her for a second, obviously trying to think if how to broach a topic of conversation.

“So,” Parvati began tentatively, “I hear that you and Malfoy are, er, going out now?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Hermione turned around and smiled at the shocked expression on Parvati’s face. Some of the other, more awake, girls had heard the short exchange and were also looking at her with mixed expressions of surprise and disgust.

“But ” but he’s a Slytherin! You-Know-Who’s house!” Lavender Brown exclaimed incredulously.

Hermione was suddenly not feeling so warm and fuzzy. She turned to Lavender and said coldly, “I know that, Lavender. But I, unlike you, find myself able to look past such things and not be a stupid great prat. Good morning.” She turned and stalked out of the dormitories, her less-bushy-than-normal hair swinging peevishly.

Once in the common room, she marched right past Ron and Harry, who had obviously been waiting for her, and straight through the portrait hole. Draco was waiting for her just outside.

He took one look at her angry countenance and asked worriedly, “What’s wrong, my love?” He took her hand and they began walking towards Great Hall.

Hermione sighed irritably, then turned to smile at Draco. “Nothing, really, darling.”

“It’s not Harry and Ron, is it?” Draco asked, his eyes clouding over menacingly.

“No, not them, not this time anyway. It’s just the girls in my dormitory, that’s all. They seem to think that anyone from Slytherin is a clone of You-Know-Who.”

Draco smiled bitterly. “Such is the curse that we of the noble house of Slytherin have to endure. But you don’t think such things, do you, Hermione, dear?”

“Of course not!” Hermione turned and gave Draco a quick kiss on the lips. He put a hand to her cheek and smiled, his gorgeous eyes twinkling. She leaned forward a bit, and nearly fell on top of Draco when a loud, fake cough came from behind.

“Ronald Weasley!” she shouted shrilly, glaring at the red head. “Leave me alone!” Clasping Draco’s hand tightly, she pulled him along the corridor at a furious pace.

“What?” she heard Ron call after her. “You’re so touchy lately!”



If she were a little braver, Hermione would have gladly sat with Malfoy at the Slytherin table, but there was also the fact that his friends were most likely to object violently to her presence. So she settled for blowing kisses at him from the end of Gryffindor table. She could hear Ron trying his hardest not to gag and smiled to herself.

Hermione barely survived the classes without Malfoy, and for once in her life, she actually looked forward to potions in the early afternoon. Nothing Snape could do would dampen her cheery mood. Unfortunately for her, she had underestimated Snape, which is a thing that one should not do when one is in such a position as Hermione.

She was in the midst of measuring out the amount of giraffe bile needed for her Noxious Brew when something landed lightly on her desk. She smiled as she saw what it was. Unfolding the note, she read:

“I love you so, my dear sweet witch,
I fear that I’m in thrall,
For who but you
Could cast such a spell
To capture my heart, dear witch?”


Pulling out a quill, she replied:

“This spell of love has captured me too,
You are not alone in this.
I see in your face,
Incomparable bliss,
I only have eyes for you.”


And so it went, back and forth. The poems became steadily sappier, and Draco’s rhyme scheme steadily worse. Hermione didn’t care, however, about such trivial things as rhyme and meter when there was love in the air. She soon forgot about her potion entirely, devoting the rest of the class period to finding the perfect way to express her feelings for this gorgeously platinum blond Slytherin.

“And what is this, Miss Granger? Where is your potion?” Snape’s voice suddenly asked testily. Hermione looked up into the face of her greasy haired potions teacher, her stomach sinking. “I see that you have measured out the giraffe bile, but why is it not in your cauldron? And what could possibly have distracted you so much that you still remain on step three?”

Hermione, turning pink, rather stupidly tried to hide the parchment on which she’d been writing, but she wasn’t fast enough. The movement alerted Snape and he reached down, grabbing the parchment from her hand. She stared hopelessly at Draco, who had pained expression on his face.

“And what is this?” Snape asked for the second time. He scanned the parchment as a cruel smile spread across his face. He cleared his throat and inquired maliciously, “Am I reading this correctly, Miss Granger? ‘Draco, my love, my only one’ … ” he read in a mocking voice. The Slytherins laughed loudly and even a few of the Gryffindors tittered. “’I only have eyes for you’. What is this rubbish, Miss Granger? Are we feeling a little desperate for Valentine’s Day? Potter not paying enough attention to you?”

Hermione could feel her face burning. She snuck a glance at Draco. He was staring determinedly at the blackboard, but there was a faint pink tinge to his pale cheeks.

“Twenty points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for passing notes, disrupting class, and failing to complete your assignment. And a zero for the day, I believe. Evanesco.”

Hermione’s eyes began to fill with tears. She angrily blinked them back, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. When the bell rang, she picked up her things and angrily left the dungeon, heading straight for Gryffindor Tower.



Harry was stunned. Not too long ago he had found the whole thing rather funny, enjoying Ron’s indignation. But now, because of the Twin’s demented sense of humor, Hermione had just received a zero in potions and would probably never be able to show her face in public again.

“This has gotten way out of hand,” he muttered to Ron as they headed to Great Hall for lunch.

Ron nodded, his eyes blazing. “It’s just like Malfoy to do something like this. When I get my hands on him ”“

“You still don’t see it, do you, Ron? It’s not Malfoy who’s done anything. He’s the butt of the joke too.”

“A joke is it? Well I’m not laughing, mate! And why did Snape have to go and read those bits aloud? Does he have no respect for anything?” They both sat down and Ron angrily began attacking his meal. After a moment he paused in his desecration of the meat and asked, “If it’s a joke, who’s behind it?”

Harry smiled cynically. “Think about it for a sec, Ron. Who, in this whole school, has a sick enough sense of humor to pull a joke like this?”

Ron thought for a moment and then he turned his head to stare at his brothers. “Them,” he whispered murderously. He stood up, clasping his knife dangerously, and walked over to where the twins were seated.

“What is wrong with you two?” he yelled. “I mean, I knew you liked to create trouble, but this? It’s bloody sick, is what it is, and if you two don’t switch it back right now, I swear, I’ll ”“

“Calm down, Ron!” Fred said, alarmed. He pulled Ron down between himself and George and asked as he removed the knife from Ron’s hand, “What is this all about, now?”

“YOU KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!” Ron roared.

“Stuff it! You sound like mum!” George whispered. “What did we do this time?”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know,” Ron said nastily, though quieter.

Fred gave him a scathing look. “Let’s just pretend that we are pretending, alright? What are you so mad about?”

Ron stared hard at his brothers.

“Ah yes, the two lovebirds,” George murmured after a moment. “So we wanted to have a bit of fun. Where’s the harm in that?”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Hermione was caught passing notes to Malfoy in potions. Snape took twenty points from Gryffindor and gave Hermione a zero,” he stated. “Have fun explaining that to Hermione when she comes around.”

“A zero?” Fred reiterated.

Ron nodded.

“Hermione?“ George asked incredulously.

“Which is why you have to fix it.” Ron said.

“And soon,” Harry added.

The twins averted their eyes. “What? Just give her the antidote to whatever you gave her,” Ron pointed out.

“Uh, well, dear little brother of mine, you see,” George began lamely. “Er, we only made the one, er, thingy, so ”“

“There’s nothing you can do about it?” Harry asked disbelievingly.

Fred smiled, relieved that Harry had understood so quickly and that he wasn’t shouting. “Right you are. So seeing as there’s nothing we can do about it, it’d probably be a good idea if we just waited for it to wear off, right?”

“And when will it wear off?” Ron asked through clenched teeth.

“Hmm, now there’s a question,” Fred said happily.

“You don’t know.”

“Well, it could be by tomorrow, or it could take another whole week. Not quite sure about that.” George said helpfully.

Ron put his head in his hands as a small moan escaped his lips.

“Cheer up, little bro,” Fred encouraged, patting his brother on the shoulder. “It’s you we could’ve made fall in love with Malfoy.”

Ron groaned.
Things Come to a Head by Leora V
The weekend had finally arrived, and usually that was good thing. But as this Saturday was Valentine’s Day, Harry and Ron both awoke with feelings of trepidation and impending doom. Maybe the potion would wear off today, Harry thought hopefully. Maybe Malfoy and Hermione would kill each other when it did. That way neither would have to face the humiliation that was in store for them back in reality. But then again, Harry thought, he’d miss Hermione. And life would be rather dull without Malfoy to taunt and threaten to beat up. Or maybe, Harry suddenly thought chillingly, they’d pull a Romeo and Juliet and kill themselves out of their fake love. That must never happen, Harry resolved.

“You know what today is, mate?” Ron said from the next bed over.

“Indeed,” Harry replied.

“You know what we should do?”

“Chain up Hermione and Malfoy so they can’t get within two feet of each other?”

“No, though that is an ace idea. But we should write to my mum.”

Harry rolled over to face Ron’s bed. “Write to your mum?”

“Yeah, so she can tie up Fred and George and then break their wands and their spirits so they become monks in Iceland and never speak to anyone ever again. Better yet, let’s just kill them.”

“Yeah.” Harry nodded. “Or maybe… maybe we should talk to Dumbledore?”

“So he can tie them up and make them monks in Iceland?”

“No, so he can fix this whole mess and memory charm everyone involved.”

“Good idea, mate,” Ron said slowly, sitting up. “Do you know how to do a memory charm?”

“No, and I wasn’t suggesting that we modify everyone’s memories, but ”“

“Why should we get Dumbledore involved?”

“Because I am the headmaster of this school, Mr. Weasley,” Dumbledore said.

Ron shrieked in surprise. Harry turned his head slightly to see a smiling Dumbledore leaning against the doorframe of the boy’s dormitories.

“Professor!” Ron exclaimed. “Are you allowed in here?”

“Don’t be daft, Ron. Of course he is; he’s the headmaster,” Harry said.

“Indeed, Harry. That I am. And I came here to discuss the little problem of Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy. But not here,” Dumbledore added, nodding towards the stirring forms of the other Gryffindor boys. “Let’s take a stroll, shall we?”

“Er, can we get dressed first, Professor?” Harry asked.



“And I was about to carve out their intestines “ sorry, Professor “ but then I figured they wouldn’t be able to explain everything if I did.” Ron continued explaining the details the Twin’s mischief with Harry adding helpful tidbits every now and then. When they reached the end of their tale, Harry asked curiously, “So how did you know about this, Professor?”

Dumbledore smiled enigmatically. He stopped at the shore of the lake and said, “I have my sources. But don’t you think that it’s rather suspicious when one of Hogwarts’ brighter students mysteriously receives a zero for the day in a class? Well, I thought so and I brought it upon myself to investigate. But now I see that there is nothing that I can do ”“

“Nothing?” Ron squeaked. “But Professor ”“

“” At the moment, Mr. Weasley. Meanwhile I think it would be a good idea to keep your eyes on Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy to make sure that they do not get into any more trouble. I believe they’ve made plans to meet at Madame Puddifoot’s this afternoon at, oh let’s see, 2 o’clock was it? Not, of course, that I am encouraging eavesdropping on your peers…”

"Oh, of course not, Professor.” Harry said, attempting an honest, good-boy face. “We wouldn’t dream of taking your suggestion that way.”

“Never,” Ron added helpfully.

“Splendid,” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses. “Have a good Saturday, then, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter.” He began to walk away but then stopped and turned back to the boys. “And I really would not advise you trying a memory charm on anyone, Mr. Weasley. If there is any of that to be done, do ask me first?”

After Dumbledore was out of sight, Ron turned to Harry and asked, “So now what?”

Harry shrugged. “We wait until two.”



And so they did. They only saw Hermione once before then, and that was at breakfast. After that, she seemed to have disappeared.

“Off to go snog that bloody platinum git,” Ron said bitterly when they saw her leave Great Hall with Malfoy close behind.

“Please, Ron, bad imagery,” Harry pleaded. He poked disconsolately at his sad looking eggs.

Ron growled in disgust and slumped back in his chair.



The next few hours seemed interminable and when it was around one-thirty, Ron became even more fidgety. He and Harry were playing a slow game of wizard chess in the common room when Ron suddenly jumped up. “C’mon, Harry. Let’s just go. I’m tired of waiting.”

Harry looked up, not admitting that he, too, was impatient for the spectacle at Madame Puddifoot’s.

“Come on, Harry!” Ron insisted, already at the portrait hole.

“All right,” Harry said and stood up, glad to surrender the game. He was going to lose anyway.



Madame Puddifoot’s, Harry decided as they entered and sat at a corner table, was rather intimidating, and more than little frightening. The soaring cupids really weren’t helping, and Harry was feeling slightly nauseous from all the soppy-eyed glances couples were exchanging. The paper hearts and confetti swirling from the rafters weren’t that appealing either. Harry couldn’t understand how anyone could tolerate it all. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Hermione and Malfoy had just walked through the door, Harry would’ve been all for scrapping the plan and getting out of there, quick.

Ron elbowed him in the side. “Look,” he whispered, pointing at the door. “There they are.”

“Yes, Ron, I have eyes,” Harry muttered. Ron ignored him, staring conspicuously at the mismatched couple.

They took a table near Harry and Ron’s and ordered some drinks. Then they sat and stared at each other. Harry had the sudden thought that maybe they were trying to bore through each other’s eyes and see into the other’s brains, they were staring so intensely. He wondered what was so interesting about another person’s eyes. Maybe Ron was right and they could speak telepathically. Or maybe they were speaking in code. Sort of like two blinks in a row would mean “I love you, dearest,” and then another two would be saying, “You have lovely brains.” Harry smiled to himself. Could a person have lovely brains? Harry’s impression was that all brains were sort of gray of smushy, kind of like overcooked noodles. And still Hermione and Malfoy weren’t doing anything, and Ron was getting fidgety again.

Now Hermione’s eyes were flitting over Malfoy’s face. From his eyes to his nose to his eyes again then to his lips and then back to his eyes. Then suddenly Malfoy’s hand stretched out towards Hermione’s face and she leaned forward, once again intently staring into his eyes. Their lips met and Harry had to turn away. It was wrong; Hermione and Malfoy making-out over a small confetti littered table in a small confetti-littered café in Hogsmeade. He felt indecent just witnessing the scene.

Harry could hear Ron spluttering to regain his breath as he choked on air. Ron clutched Harry’s arm and whispered frantically, “Harry, do something!”

But Harry’s intervention, thankfully, was not needed. For as soon as the couple’s lips separated, Hermione’s face became distorted with a look of absolute surprise and horror. She stood up so quickly she knocked over her chair. Heads turned all over the café to look at them. Malfoy, too, had stood up and was now backing away, his face a picture of disgust and anger.

“What were you doing, Granger?” He wiped his mouth as if to cleanse it of contamination.

“What were you doing, Malfoy?” She grabbed her drink from the table and took a hasty swig, Malfoy having clearly not tasted very good. “Eurgh, this is disgusting. What in the world ”“

“I can’t believe it.” Malfoy interrupted, clutching his forehead. “Did we ” ? I mean, did I ” ? I kissed you! A mudblood!” He looked around, noticing the other patrons and added, “In public!” He seemed about to say more but Harry and Ron rushed over, Ron’s face red with thoughts of murder and doom.

“You!” Malfoy screeched, his usual sangfroid slipping away. “You did this! You rigged this whole thing ”“

“Don’t be a git, Malfoy,” Harry said, disgusted.

“Why would we want to subject Hermione to the absolute humiliation of locking lips with an arse like you?” Ron added angrily.

“Oh,” Hermione gasped, turning bright red and looking like she was about to collapse.

With impeccable timing, Fred and George rushed into the café. Fred, spotting the four, asked, “Did we miss the show? Er, I mean, ah,” He stopped, noticing the looks on Malfoy’s and Hermione’s faces. “I mean, we should be going, now, George, eh? C’mon then.” They turned to go but heavy hands landed on their shoulders.

“Not yet,” Ron said murderously. He reached into his back pocket for his wand. “You have some explaining to do to Hermione.”

“What about me?” Malfoy said indignantly, sounding very uncharacteristically squeaky.

“Uh, well, you see, Ron, brother, dear,” George began nervously. “We, er, have, ah, a pressing engagement, and well ””

“You’ll not be going anywhere,” Dumbledore said quietly from a corner, once again surprising everyone with his sudden and timely appearance, “except my office. All of you.”



“C’mon, Hermione,” Harry said coaxingly. “Was it really that bad?”

She shuddered, staring resolutely at the common room fireplace. “You have no idea, Harry. We composed poetry about each other. And I stared into his eyes.”

“We’ll kill him for you if you like,” Ron suggested helpfully. “And maybe Fred and George too. Though I think Dumbledore has that pretty much covered."

Harry nodded. "It's a good thing he showed up when he did."

"Rather a deus ex machina, don't you think?" Hermione said thoughtfully.

Harry and Ron shurgged. Neither had any idea what she was talking about. Harry did have to agree with Ron about Fred and George. Dumbledore had been particularly ruthless with the twins, subjecting them to a month’s detention with Filch. They ought to be glad Filch still wasn’t allowed to string students up by their toenails. Though Harry couldn’t say that they didn’t deserve it. The headmaster had made the twins tell the whole story, beginning with spiking the pumpkin juice Hermione drank, all the way to the end. Dumbledore had also been kind enough to convince Snape to allow Hermione to redo her Invulnerability Brew, which she did flawlessly, of course, progressing beyond step three and efficiently adding the giraffe bile to her cauldron in the proper order. However, the headmaster had not agreed with Ron’s suggestion to modify everyone’s memories of the incident and Harry suspected that Dumbledore had actually enjoyed parts of the whole debacle.

Malfoy was back to his old tricks, the snide remarks once again oozing from his lips with arrogant condescendence. But it seemed that whenever he met Hermione’s eyes, he froze, and Harry fancied he could see a faint blush creeping up his cheeks at those times. Harry began seeing the whole event as something to hold over Malfoy’s head in the future. Harry liked that feeling of power.

Ron was still indignant about the whole affair and Hermione seemed to find his protectiveness of her somewhat amusing. After a while, though, she was back to her old self, and whenever Ron or Harry would mention the day at Madame Puddifoot’s she would curl her lip in scorn, though her eyes still retained a bit of the horror that she had displayed in the café. At times, Harry began wondering if he should just modify all their memories against Dumbledore’s wishes. Clearly, this matter would not be forgotten otherwise. And Harry would never be able to look at pumpkin juice the same way again. At least not while Fred and George were around.
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