Neville Longbottom was trying to study in the Gryffindor common room. His bedroom was too noisy, what with his friends gossiping about Harry Potter, Sirius Black, and now the mysterious love note that had been sent to Hermione. Neville tried valiantly to stay awake, despite the boring diagrams on the vascular structure of Nightshade.
"And I thought I liked Herbology.." he murmured.
At that moment, Ginny Weasley came running down the girls' stairs. She looked distraught and clutched a white envelope in her hand.
"I can't believe it!" she exclaimed.
"What's the matter, Ginny?" he asked.
"Harry - Harry Potter sent me a love letter," she stammered, clearly trying to keep away tears, "and it's all wrong!"
Neville frowned. "I thought you liked him?"
"Yes, I thought I'd like this too- BUT MY HAIR IS RED! NOT PLATINUM BLONDE!" She threw the envelope on the table.
"Oh, that's odd - may I look at it?" asked Neville.
"I don't care!"
Neville fumbled trying to get the letter out, but he read it quickly enough once he had. "This doesn't seem to be .. addressed to you."
"It doesn't have a name."
"But it's not for Hermione either."
"Is that true about her getting one too!?"
"It was a mistake, I thought?"
"This has to be a mistake too. My hair's not blonde, and I certainly don't look like 'a flashing emerald lighting up the sky during a Quidditch match!'" She folded her arms grumpily.
"Hm. There's a girl on Hufflepuff team who has blonde hair." Neville offered. "What's her name? - Affery Flintwitch?"
"Isn't that a Dickens character, Neville?"
"Oh.. right. I guess Hufflepuff robes wouldn't be emerald anyway.." he frowned and the two of them sat in ponderous silence. "It's hard being secondary characters who don't have the wherewithal to figure things out on our own, isn't it?"
"We're just PAWNS in other people's tawdry love affairs! I'm not taking part in this. Where he is?" Ginny stood up abruptly.
"Harry went out about a half hour ago..."
She looked at her watch. "To the astronomy tower, of course! Well I'm not going. Let him sit up there alone." She turned on her heel and stormed back up the stairs.
---
Harry was indeed sitting alone in the astronomy tower. The wind swept around him, and he scowled in the cold.
"It's so bone-chillingly cold yet I have no Draco to warm me up! O WOE!"
"He's probably cold-blooded anyway," Harry scoffed outloud.
"Was that sarcasm, Harry Potter? CAN I BE HAVING A MOMENT OF SELF-DOUBT!?"
"I just noticed I hadn't been through the token period of denial yet, and now's as good a time as any."
"Right, because when he shows up then there will be no more doubt!"
Harry got up and began pacing in circles. "Where is Malfoy anyway!?"
"Perhaps he's trying to tear himself away from his friends, to try to invent excuses for himself-"
"Or maybe having a tortured monologue like this..." Harry grumbled. "Torturous is a better word for it."
"I cannot give up hope! Perservation is --"
"No multisyllabic words! "
"I mean - Preserverence?"
"Just stop now"
"Perserverance?"
"It's been an hour. I'm going to bed!"
"Only an hour! I must wait - what if he COMES!?"
"Then he can wait. I'm going!"
"Staying!"
"GOING!"
"STAYING!" Harry found himself rooted to the spot, unable to make up his mind, but lurching back and forth like a fledgling about to fall off a branch.
"Ok..." He froze a moment. "Why don't I on something else - like.. his hands?"
"SO BEAUTIFUL - long graceful fingers and pale untouched skin..." The inner voice thus distracted, Harry snuck out of the astronomy tower and back to his room.
---
"Plan 3: Poiso- Love Potion"
For the third breakfast in a row, Harry was not interested in Ron's and Hermione's stories of class or Quidditch. He was staring intently across two tables at Malfoy's glass of juice.
"As soon as he drinks that he'll be in love with ME!"
"And Snape thinks I'm bad at potions. I just need a little.. inspiration. I defy even Hermione to make such a sure-fire potion in just one night!"
Hermione looked at him skeptically. "I heard my name. And by the way - we found the second love note."
"YEAH!" said Ron angrily, "My sister got it!"
"Oh," Harry looked embarrassed, "I really have to talk to Hedwig about that."
"HE'S DRINKING!"
"He's going to drink!" Harry yelped.
"Now what?!"
"Love potion - invisibility cloak- his drink!" Harry was beyond complete sentences at this point as Malfoy raised the glass to his lips and took a sip. And promptly spit out the concoction all over his plate.
"WHAT!! - Who put turpentine in my orange juice!?" Much confusion at the Slytherin table.
Hermione laughed, and Ron too - in spite of himself. "That's pretty good, Harry."
"I told you not to try a love potion," Hermione said matter-of-factly.
"I don't understand - its supposed to taste like whatever drink its in!!"
"It's supposed to be tasteless," Harry said crossly, folding his arms.
"Hahah - turpentine - you really are bad at potions, aren't you?" laughed Ron.
Meanwhile Malfoy turned around and glared directly at Harry. "Trying to poison me now, are you, Potter?!" he hissed across the room.
"Who is poisoning whom ? and without my permission at that...." Professor Snape had appeared at Malfoy's side, and by now the entire Great Hall was watching.
"Potter, and this." Malfoy primly held up his glass.
Snape sniffed it and scowled. "Potter. Detention."
"But-"
"For the rest of the week."
"I have Quidditch practice-"
"For the irresponsible and incompetent use of advanced potions."
Harry didn't argue, although he wasn't convinced it was irresponsible - incompetent, yes. But one thing was clear.
"I need a more direct approach - PLAN FIVE-
"Four"
"-whatever! - DIRECT CONFRONTATION AT THIS SATURDAY'S QUIDDITCH MATCH!"