Why Do You Love Me?

Harry was late waking up that morning, though not nearly as late as Ron was. When he got out of the shower, Ron was still asleep. With a shrug, Harry left for the Great Hall. He really wanted to get his schedule. With another glance over his shoulder, Harry decided that Ron probably wouldn’t be down for breakfast, and it would be best if he got his schedule for him as well.

Hermione was already in the Great Hall, as Harry had suspected she would be, pouring over a short piece of paper with a frown on her face. “What’s that?” Harry asked as he plopped himself down beside her.

“It’s my schedule,” she said, her brows wrinkled in concentration. “But there seems to be a mistake,”

“What’s that?” Harry asked, scooping a generous portion of eggs onto his plate.

Hermione looked up. “Oh, I see you got your appetite back,” she pointed out, though her eyes glistened knowingly. Harry gulped guiltily.

“Yeah,” he said, shoving a forkful of eggs into his mouth and talking around them. “I’m not nearly as tired as I was yesterday, either. But I think Ron’s gonna be sleeping for a bit longer.”

Hermione snorted. “He’s going to have to get used to waking up earlier from now on. How’s he ever going to support a job if he sleeps in like a slob all the time?” Hermione asked, turning back to her schedule.

“He’ll probably get a job in the afternoon,” a cold voice said over Harry’s shoulder. Hermione started and looked up to see Ron glaring down at her. He was, for some reason, still wearing his pajamas, and he looked rather sleep-mussed.

Hermione blushed.

“Um, sorry, Ron,” Hermione said quietly.

Ron ignored her, instead finding the slice of toast he was currently buttering quite interesting.

Harry sighed. “Look, you guys, this is really awkward,” he said, placing an arm on Ron’s shoulder. “She was just looking out for you.”

Ron shot a glare at Harry out of the corner of his eye.

Just then, Professor McGonagall swooped down on them. “Hello, boys,” she greeted them happily. “Your schedules?” she motioned towards a quite large pile of papers in her hands.

Harry and Ron nodded enthusiastically, and McGonagall handed them along without further ado.

Comparing, they found that they both had the same classes, once again, and nearly the exact same schedules. The only difference was that Harry had Potions first, while Ron had Transfigurations, and Ron had Potions after lunch while Harry had Transfigurations.

Ron shrugged at this. “Oh, well,” he said, his voice rather cheerful. Harry eyed him warily. “At least we haven’t got Snape this year. Oi, Hermione! What classes have you?” with that, Ron snatched Hermione’s schedule right from under her nose. Hermione cried out in protest, but Ron ignored her, as he looked hers over. “Brilliant!” he nearly shrieked as he looked her schedule over once more to confirm.

“What?” Hermione asked in worry. “Not another mistake, I hope,”

“Bloody hell, no!” Ron protested, handing Hermione’s schedule over to Harry.

“Well then what is it?” Hermione asked anxiously.

“We’ve got the same schedule,” Ron exclaimed, eyes shining. Hermione crossed her arms, and the shine left. “What?”

“That’s exactly the problem,” Hermione exclaimed in disdain. “We have exactly the same schedule. I don’t have Arithmancy or Ancient Runes!”

Ron looked at her in disdain. “You’re kidding, right? You mean you really care about those classes?”

Hermione glared at him. “Shut up, Ronald, and eat your eggs.”

Ron looked taken aback, and sulked for the rest of the meal, as Hermione stalked off towards Professor McGonagall.

Harry blinked. “You know,” he said, looking over at a sulky Ron, who pushed the food around on his plate but didn’t eat anything more. “I keep thinking of McGonagall as ‘Professor’. Isn’t that weird?”

“I guess,” Ron said thoughtfully. “I mean, she is the Headmistress, but I still think of her as a professor, too, so it can’t be that weird.”

“D’you think other people are the same?”

“I dunno,” Ron tapped his chin with the handle of his fork thoughtfully. “I mean, we probably think of her as ‘Professor’ because we know the…truth,” Ron waggled his eyebrows and Harry laughed. “But I’m sure there are others that are the same way.”

Just then, Hermione came back, looking smug but slightly sad at the same time. “What’s wrong, Hermione?” Ron asked worriedly, hoping it wasn’t something that he had done.

Hermione seemed to have forgotten about their earlier fight, and Ron was glad. “Well, I’ve got Arithmancy back, but Ancient Runes is full.”

“That’s all right, though,” Ron comforted, pushing Harry over and slinging an arm around Hermione’s waist. “You’ve still got classes with me, yeah?”

Hermione met his eyes, and her heart melted just a bit. She cracked a smile. “All but your free period after Potions, yes,” she said after a heart throbbing silence. "But I've got Potions with Harry,"

Harry broke the moment with a snort. Hermione blushed and pulled away from Ron, who looked disappointed at the loss of contact.

“Well,” Harry said, clearing his throat to break the awkward silence. “We’ve got a free hour now. What are we going to do? After I go to the bathroom, that is,”

Hermione looked at Harry curiously. “What?”

Harry blushed in embarrassment. “I’ve, er…I need to use the loo,” he said, cheeks flushing a bright scarlet.

Hermione smirked. “Oh, okay. Well, how about we meet up in the commons, then?”

Ron nodded enthusiastically, and before Harry could reply, off they were, Ron clutching Hermione by the arm and all but dragging her after him.

Harry rolled his eyes and with a sigh, stood up and found his way to the nearest bathroom.

…

…

…

It was quite odd, Harry had decided, that no one knew what he was doing in his constant after-meal trip to the loo. But of course, he didn’t blame anyone. And he wasn’t complaining, by any stretch. He was rather thankful.

With one final heave over the toilet, which to his dismay smelt rather rancid, Harry stood and flushed it, wiping his mouth with the cuff of his robe.

Staring down at the sick that swirled down the toilet, he noted, offhandedly, of course, that it had an odd green hue to it. With a grimace and a smirk, Harry went to the sink and rinsed out his mouth, staring at himself in the mirror over the faucet.

He had to admit, at least to himself, that though he didn’t look too good, he didn’t look all that bad, either. His cheeks were full and had a slight pink tint to them (probably because of all the exertion it took to make himself sick), and his eyes were glowing brighter than ever before. He didn’t look too bad. But for some reason, he had to continue to convince himself as such the whole way back up to the Gryffindor common room.

…

…

…

It was finally their first class of the day, and Harry was rather anxious to find out who their new potions teacher was. It would have been nice if it was Professor Slughorn, but Harry knew that it wouldn’t be. There were only a few people besides him, Neville and Hermione in this class, and Harry eyed the other people (mostly Ravenclaws that he didn't know, or remember) warily.

A sound at the front of the room drew his attention, and Harry looked up just in time to seem Madam Pomfrey enter the room, robes billowing in a way very reminiscent of one Severus Snape. “Today,” she said briskly, ignoring the excited chattering her entrance had brought on. “We will be studying the Draught of Peace, as I am sure several of you will need it before the year is out. If your potion is successful, you may keep it. I will be testing it on you before you take it, however, so that we may make sure there are no fatal effects. Now then,” Madam Pomfrey turned towards the board, and with a flick of her wand, instructions filled the board.

“I know that you have studied this once before, in fifth year, if I am correct, but we are making a double batch today. It will serve you well to follow the instructions clearly.” She shot Harry a glance when she said the last word, causing Harry to flush. “You may begin,”

Before Madam Pomfrey turned away, though, Hermione raised her hand anxiously. Harry set about doinghis work. “Why, Professor, are we reviewing?” Hermione asked.

“Is it not normal procedure,” Madam Pomfrey asked. “To review one’s subject after a long break from it?”

Hermione flushed. “Well, yes, it is, but we usually don’t-”

“Miss Granger, this is my classroom now, and you would do well to remember that.”

With that, Madam Pomfrey turned and left the room, probably entering her office to grade papers from the period before.

When there were ten minutes to go, Madam Pomfrey emerged from the office. All of the cauldrons were emitting a light silver vapor, as should be, and she grinned softly. “Very well done, all of you. Now I will be testing your product.”

Minutes later, everyone’s potion had been tested, and not one of them had come out badly. “Very, very good!” Madam Pomfrey exclaimed at the end of the class. “Now, if you will collect two flagons of your potion and bring it to the front, without your names, please, you may keep the rest. Now, I must warn you not to drink more than a tablespoon at a time, unless you want to sleep all day.” With a smile, she once again left them to do as she had instructed.

Harry looked down at his potion, remembering the way he had fouled it up back in fifth year. Maybe it was the pressure that Snape had put on him to be perfect, but Harry was quite proud, nonetheless. He was sure he would have fouled it up once more, if Snape was still the teacher. Although, if Snape was still the teacher, he probably wouldn’t even be here at all.

Harry grinned and scooped his potion into flagons, bringing two to the front of the room, and pocketing the third. Then, with a flick of his wand, his cauldron was empty, and he packed up his stuff.

Harrywatched Hermione as she struggled a bit to get the potion into the flagon. He had opened his mouth to offer help, but Hermione glared at him, and he instantly shut it.

At last, Hermione was finished, and they left the room, Hermione much quieter than usual. Lunch proceeded without much occurring, and Harry didn’t eat much. Hermione watched him all throughout, so Harry was forced to eat a bit to make her not suspicious, but he regretted it later, as his stomach was screaming at being filled. He had probably eaten too much.

With a groan, Harry once more made himself sick in the restroom after a meal. His throat was sore and dry and screamed in protest as his halfway digested food forced itself back up. It was difficult to make himself be silent this time, but somehow he managed.

Harry stared down into the toilet. The sick just came coming! He had certainly eaten too much. With a swear as another gag caused even more food to produce itself from his stomach, Harry promised himself that he would never, ever, under any circumstances, eat that much, ever again.

When he was finished, he groaned and flopped to the side, leaning against the metal stall door for more support than he would have liked, but too pooped to do anything but lounge on the floor to regain his strength.

Thank God that Hermione was in Arithmancy right now. What would she think of him if she found out he was making himself get sick? Harry groaned once more as he thought of it, and tried to force himself to think of something brighter.

“Harry?”

Harry was startled out of his thoughts as he heard the bathroom door creak open.

“Harry, are you in here?”

Harry nearly decided not to answer Ron, but he knew that if he stayed the way he was, Ron would be able to see his feet sticking out from under the stall. “Yeah, Ron, I’m here,” Harry managed to grind out. His throat was gritty from the sick, and all too late, Harry realized that he had forgotten to flush the toilet.

“You okay, mate?” Ron asked, pushing the stall door open roughly. It nearly hit Harry in the head, but it missed by mere inches.

“Oh, Harry, you look terrible!” Ron said, his voice full of surprise. “You didn’t seem too bad at lunch. Was it something you ate?”

Harry shook his head. “No. I think I ate too much, though.” Well, it wasn’t exactly a lie, was it?

Ron shook his head. “Do you think you’ll be all right in our next classes? I mean, you can stay here and get some sleep, if you want," Ronsuggested, gesturing towards the open door of the bathroom, that led to the boy'sdormitory of Gryffindor."But-”

“I’ll be fine, Ron,” Harry said, attempting to stand. Ron stuck out his hand and helped Harry to his feet.

Harry flushed the toilet, and made his way to the sink to wash out his mouth and greedily drink down some water. His throat was sore, parched, and hot. He groaned in near-pleasure as the cool water flowed easily down his throat.

When he was finished cleaning up, Ron was staring at him warily. “You aren’t going to get sick on me, are you, mate?” Ron asked after an awkward silence.

Harry shook his head, smiling. “No, I’ll be fine. I just stuffed myself too full, is all. I’m fine now.”

Ron smiled gratefully. “Good,” he said, and they left the room without another word.