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Just My Luck | ||||
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Category: Post-HBP Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Humor, General Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 8 Summary: Harry needs something to go his way very badly, so he turns, once again, to a tricky little potion Hitcount: Story Total: 5072 |
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A/N Okay I’ll say it right up front here, this fic basically came about as an excuse for me to make up a formula for Felix Felicis. I like Potions and, were Hogwarts a reality and I an attendee, I think it would be my favorite class, Snape or no Snape. If I can ever think of a logical plot for them, I’ll probably do Amortentia or Veritaserum or maybe some other tricky little potions that need to be explored some more. I don’t own any of the characters, Even Felix :P. And as an added bonus, I‘ve hidden a lot of superstitions involving Luck (good and bad) throughout this piece, see if you can spot them Just My Luck By Saint Paul “...‘Yes, it’s a funny little potion, Felix Felicis.’ Said Slughorn. ‘Desperately tricky to make, and disastrous to get wrong’...” - HBP, American Version, pg. 187 Harry grinned proudly as he placed the gold Galleon in the exact center of his cauldron and the ring of six bronze Knuts surrounding it, all of which were face up. It was the first step in creating Felix Felicis, the liquid luck potion that had made Harry a success in his sixth year and had also kept all of his friends safe in the Death Eater attack on the school. He had decided to take up the challenge of making some for himself. True, he was never spectacular with potions, at least not unless he had the Half Blood Prince’s help, and it was also true that this particular potion was notoriously tricky to produce, which was why he was taking every precaution to ensure success. He’d gone over the precise directions with a fine-toothed comb and with a dedication not even Professor Snape could have found fault with. He’d measured the exact portions of every ingredient three times just to be sure he had the right amount. He’d even gone so far as to perform the suggested, non-required, actions; such as hanging a Horseshoe over his cauldron (Open end down- to let the luck fall into his potion, of course.) As well as beginning the preparation on July Seventh. (The seventh Day of the Seventh Month) And why, you may ask, was Harry going to all this trouble to make this fortuitous formula? What event in Harry’s young adult life could he be so worried about that he would resort to an undertaking of such magnitude? Well, simply put, he was planning on asking Ginny Weasley to marry him, and he wanted absolutely nothing to go wrong. So he was taking no chances and ensuring that it happened precisely according to his Master Plan. Of course, he would have to wait forty-nine days (or rather, seven times seven days) for the potion to brew. But he figured it would be worth it in the end. He lit the fire beneath his cauldron just before pouring the measured amount of already boiling water, which would be the base for his potion, over the seven coins arranged at the bottom. After it had begun to bubble again, he sprinkled along the top a half cup’s worth of holly leaves, four ounces of ginger root, a dozen spider eggs, and a handful of magnetic sand. He then stirred it three times counter-clockwise with a unicorn horn and, after enchanting the room so Ginny would not think to enter it, left the potion to brew. Every day at precisely noon he would give the potion a one-eighth stir, alternating every four days whether it was clockwise or counter, then reversing the pattern. Every seventh day at midnight he would stir the mixture three times, again alternating every week clockwise or counter. At this time he would add the ingredients in the prescribed order, week two was the right front paw of a white rabbit, then came four ounces of the ashes from a Chimney Sweep’s broom the next week, followed by the wishbone from a Diricawl The week after that. Then, eggshells from seven Occamy eggs, and a dozen four-leafed clovers in the sixth week. Finally Harry walked into his workroom on the beginning day of the last week to add some of the final ingredients, the four aces and the Wheel of Fortune from a Tarot deck and the tooth of a badger. It was only after placing the cards into the cauldron and stirring the right amount of times did he notice the broken mirror lying on his desk, just beside the cauldron. Harry suppressed the irritation he felt. The mirror had been a gift from Ginny after he’d graduated from Hogwarts, after all. He decided he could safely pin the blame on Casper, (the cat he’d gotten for Ginny when they‘d first moved in together,) after discovering a few ebony colored hairs laying near the mirror. He really hoped that the cat hadn’t gotten into his potion, as the slightest variable could be disastrous. He checked his notes again, but the potion seemed fine. It was the right color, consistency, and temperature, for the stage he was at, anyway. Shrugging he decided not to worry about it and left his potion to simmer for another day. Seven days later there was but one final step it was by far the easiest and most confusing of all. All he had to do was take a pinch of everyday, ordinary table salt in his right hand and throw it over his left shoulder and into the cauldron. Ironically, it didn’t matter exactly how much of the salt made it into the cauldron, only that some of it did. Harry looked at his unfinished potion, which at this point was a rather unusual (but normal for this stage in the process) electric blue color and had the consistency of maple syrup (also normal.) Harry shrugged and, taking the pinch of salt, turned around and threw it over his left shoulder. There was a sharp hiss and the potion boiled suddenly, releasing a cloud of blue steam. When it cleared Harry was pleased to see leaping drops that he remembered, and not a drop was spilling. But... well, it was gold, true enough. However, it wasn’t the brilliant, luminous brand-new-galleon gold that he remembered from Professor Slughorn’s class those many years ago. It was really more of a burnished bronze color. Darker than he recalled. He checked his notes but could find nothing wrong with his preparation. He decided with a shrug that he must have been remembering it wrong, perhaps even romanticizing it a bit, since taking that potion had gained him quite a bit in his sixth year. Harry had a hard time suppressing the wave of nervous excitement he felt. The potion was finally ready, tomorrow was his date with Ginny, and he was going to pop the question to her And, with any luck, she’d say yes. The next night was clear and beautiful, with a billion stars in the sky, and not at all hot, considering the time of year. Absolutely perfect for his date with Ginny... and perhaps for a little moonlit walk through the park after dinner. Harry smiled to himself in the mirror. This was it; everything was going to be just fine. After surreptitiously checking that Ginny was busy in getting ready for that evening, Harry stole down to his workroom where he had stashed his good luck charm... or potion, as it were. Looking over both shoulders, as if he expected a squad of Aurors to come bursting in at any moment, Harry dipped a teaspoon into the cauldron and took a dose of the concoction. At first there wasn’t any change, then, slowly at first, but coming on faster, came a stunning wave of confidence. Suddenly each and every worry, fear, anxiety and doubt he’d had about this night was just... gone. like magic. He looked into the newly repaired mirror, and ran his fingers through his messy hair, taming it instantly. He made a few slight adjustments to his shirt and jacket, then suddenly remembered that he had a bottle of cologne that Ginny had given him stashed up in his dresser. It was her favorite scent on him, only he wasn’t sure he had any left. Well, he reasoned, it couldn’t hurt to look. He was pleased, though not particularly surprised given the circumstances, to find just enough left in the bottle for one more use. He had it applied just in time for Ginny to sneak up behind him and snake her arms around his middle. “Mmmm.” She inhaled. “You’re wearing that scent I like.” Harry smiled devilishly, took her hand from around his waist then spun and dipped her, ending the move by placing a kiss upon her laughing mouth. After a few moments he let her up to breathe. “You ready to go then?” He asked her casually, as if nothing had just happened. “Sure am, handsome.” She smiled up at him. She was wearing a stunning, tastefully low-cut green dress with accompanying blue beaded necklace and earrings that had been a gift from Hermione the previous Christmas, she was, however, still barefoot. “Just let me put my shoes on.” She sat down on the bed and placed her left high-heel on, but had some trouble locating the right shoe until Harry pointed out that it somehow had gotten onto the other side of the bed. Once she was all ready, she grasped Harry’s hand lightly and with a faint pop the two of them disapperated. They appeared in a dark alleyway of muggle London near the restaurant they were to be eating at that night. They walked down the street towards the restaurant hand-in-hand, separating just long enough for Harry to duck underneath a ladder that some sign painter had left on the sidewalk overnight. After about a block and a half, they reached their destination “The Rainbow Room.” Ginny read the neon, multicolored sign above the door. “Sounds exciting.” With a dazzling smile she took a hold of Harry’s arm and the two of them entered the extremely posh restaurant. They had to wait behind another couple before they could approach the Maitre d’. “Yes, I have a reservation for 2, under Potter.” Harry said as soon as they’d made it to the front. The young man scrolled down his reservation sheet, a small frown creasing his features. “I’m sorry sir, I don’t seem to have a reservation for you.” Harry was shocked for a moment, before he continued. “However, we did just have a cancellation before you walked in, so we can seat you immediately.“ “Well that sure is lucky.” Ginny muttered in Harry’s ear, her breath tickling him slightly. He smirked silently, but didn’t respond. “Robert!” The Maitre d’ signaled to a nearby waiter. “Please escort them to table thirteen.” With a polite bow the waiter indicated that they should follow them. He led them through the restaurant to a side table adorned with a maroon table cloth and a vase filled with beautiful red and white roses. Ever the gentleman, Harry pulled Ginny’s chair out before sitting into his own, after a moment, Robert returned with glasses of water. “Would you like to order drinks right away?” He asked. “A bottle of red wine please.” With a curt nod, Robert disappeared into the kitchen. “Any old bottle of wine then?” Ginny asked archly, her eyes sparkling with humor. “Not their finest?” “Wine is wine Ginny, no matter what the vintage, it never seems to taste any different to me.” It was but a moment before they had their wine and the menus, and then Robert departed again. Ginny perused her menu for a moment, while Harry poured them each a glass of the deep red wine. “So what do you think you’ll be having?” He asked her as he placed the bottle off to the side of the table. “I don’t know.” she murmured, reading over the laminated folds “It all looks very good.” “Well, while you’re thinking on it,” Harry said as he raised his glass, slopping a little bit over the edge and on the table, which neither took any notice of. “I would like to propose a toast.” Ginny arched an eyebrow, but raised her own glass slightly. “And just what are we toasting?” Harry thought about it for a moment. “To a long and happy relationship.” He began “To being together.” Ginny chimed in. “And to the most cliched, uninspired toast by anyone, anywhere.” Harry finished clinking his glass with hers, pleased by the happy smile he received as she drank. “You never were one for making a toast.” Ginny told him, eyes alight with humor. “Remember Ron and Hermione’s wedding?” “Don’t remind me!” Harry shook his head. “It was awful.” “It was sweet, in a stuttering, nervous-wreck kind of way.” Ginny reached over and clasped his hand fondly. “Don’t worry, someday it’ll be Ron’s turn to give that speech.” Harry almost choked on his drink. Did she know? Was she able to find out what he was planning to- no, she didn’t it was just an offhand remark. And it wasn’t like they hadn’t discussed getting married before. “Hopefully he won’t have as hard a time with it as I did.” “No. His will be worse.” Ginny said wryly. Their waiter reappeared and took their orders, vanishing into the kitchen as soon as he had done so. They passed the time with comfortable conversation and the meal itself passed without note. Harry seemed to make all the rights moves throughout dinner and by the end of it Ginny was practically glowing with happiness. At the end Harry paid their Bill and had just decided to go for a moonlit stroll when a sudden wave of nausea gripped Harry and left his head spinning for a moment. “Harry are you alright?” Ginny asked, her voice tinged with concern as she helped Harry stay upright. “I’ll be fine.” Harry grunted in response. “I think something I ate just isn’t sitting right, that’s all.” “Maybe we should go home,” Ginny responded. “So you can lie down.” Harry shot back upright so fast that he cricked his neck. “No. I’m fine now, see? Let’s go for that walk now, shall we?” “If you’re sure you feel up to it.” Ginny took Harry’s proffered arm and the walked side-by-side down the street to the nearby park. Suddenly she stopped at pointed. “Look at the Moon Harry, have you ever seen it so big?” Harry answered in a negative, he had never, in fact, seen the moon so big before. They soon reached the park and were just beginning their first lap around the park when a deafening clap of thunder roared in their ears and a torrential downpour fell on their heads, soaking them to the bone almost instantly. “Now where in the Hell did this come from?” Harry roared over the pounding rain. “It was clear skies a moment ago.” Ginny’s response was hard to hear, but Harry guessed she had no idea either. so much for the perfect evening. Harry thought just a little bitterly. and I didn’t even get to ask her the question. “We should get out of this!” He heard her shout over the downpour. As much as Harry hated to admit it, the evening was over. He nodded to Ginny and led her towards a safe place to apparate away from curious muggle eyes. They were just about to Apparate away from the rain and the ruined evening when Harry heard a very distinct click! and felt something pressed into the small of his back. “Yer money or yer life kid.” Said a gruff sounding voice behind him, audible now that the rain was lessening. This is not what I need right now. He reached into his pocket, slowly, as if he were going for his wallet, but instead drew out his wand and, aiming it backwards into the other man’s torso, silently shot off a Stunning spell. pleased when he heard the man fall to the ground behind him. Shrugging nonchalantly to Ginny he prepared to Apparate home. “Harry? ....Harry?” He heard Ginny’s voice but it sounded very, very far away to him, and for a moment, all he could see was blackness. “HARRY!” His eyes snapped open and, after adjusting to the glare of the light of their sitting room, came to focus in on... Ginny’s foot. I must have lost my balance and fell when I apparated in. He thought vaguely, his head swimming. “What... What happened?” He asked his girlfriend. “You splinched yourself Harry.” Came Ginny’s matter-of-fact, yet somewhat amused response. “WHAT?” Now that Harry’s head had cleared, he could now see that he was simply a disembodied head, and that his torso was nowhere to be seen, although he could make out an arm on the other side of the couch. “Oh gross.” Harry said, feeling sick to his stomach... or he would, if it were still attached. “How do you think I feel? I’m the one that had to go retrieve your... er... wayward pieces.” Now that Harry had a chance to look about, he could see a few more bits of himself lying in a corner. “I’m sorry about that Gin. This night has been a perfect fiasco.” “This night had been just fine.” Ginny said, bending down to pick up his head in her hand. “Up until the rain anyway. And that’s nobody’s fault.” I’m not so sure about that. Harry thought sourly. Something MUST have gone wrong with that potion. He looked up into Ginny’s eyes and saw them twinkling suspiciously with amusement. “Ginny... what is it?” Harry asked cautiously. She was now trying very hard, and very unsuccessfully to hold in her laughter. “Oh Harry. You’re going to hate me for this, but I just can’t resist it.” “Ginny what are you-” Harry started to ask, before she took him in one hand, stared into his eyes, and said in a loud, very dramatic voice, with grand sweeping gestures: “Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio; a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy.” “Oh ha ha Ginny.” “he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rises at it.” “I am SO going to get you for this when I get put back together. So help me.” “Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft.” She leaned in to place a quick kiss on his lips. “Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning?” “Are you quite finished.” Harry asked sulkily. “Quite.” Ginny said, attempting to fight down the grin that despite her best efforts, would not leave her face. “I never knew you read Shakespeare.” “You are talking to the girl that used to get detentions for quoting Macbeth in potions class.” “Macbeth?” Harry asked, failing to see the significance. “Specifically the part with the three witches. You know, ‘Double Double toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble’ Snape was not amused.” “I’ll bet.” Harry responded wryly. “Say Gin, you don’t suppose I ought to, you know, go to the hospital... to get put back together.” “I suppose.” Ginny said with a fake sigh. “If you must. Truth be told I was just waiting for you to regain consciousness so you wouldn’t get freaked out or anything.” She stepped behind the couch and Harry saw the rest of his body, minus the left leg and right arm. “So that’s all of me that came through huh?” Harry asked, slightly disoriented and seeing his decapitated self. “No. That’s what you left behind, you must have been very distracted Harry.” Harry responded with a noncommital grunt, while Ginny hefted his body onto it’s remaining foot and helped to support him with his one arm. She tucked his head under one arm and picked up a duffle bag with, presumably, his other arm and a leg. With some difficulty she managed to toss a pinch of floo powder into the fire. “St. Mungo’s!” And they were away. It was a short wait before the doctor was able to see them. A Doctor Merriweather She was an older lady, a short, sort of pudgy woman. But with a nice, caring face. “Dear dear dear, gone and splinched yourself have you. Badly too, I might add.” “But you can fix me, right?” Harry asked, a little desperately. “Oh certainly. But I’m afraid it’ll cost you an arm and a leg.” She burst into a rather annoying, to Harry anyway, fit of giggles. “Well here you go then.” Ginny said, handing her the bag with Harry’s arm and leg, causing her to burst into another fit of giggles. “I’m glad this is so frightfully funny to the two of you.” Harry muttered sullenly. “I’m sorry dearie. Bad joke I know, but that’s no reason to get bent out of shape.” It was Ginny who couldn’t help laughing this time. Doctor Merriweather laid out Harry’s various pieces in the correct order on the examination table. With a complex wave of her wand and a muttered incatation, followed by a sucking pop sound, Harry found himself back in one piece. They thanked the doctor profusely, and endured another one of her puns, before they found themselves home once again. The two of them were snuggled together on the couch in front of the roaring fire for a full five minutes before Ginny turned to him and asked. “So are you going to explain about the cauldron of Felix Felicis potion brewing in the walk in closet or what?” Busted. "How did you know about that?" "Please Harry, I am a witch you know, I can recognise a Confundus Charm when I sense one. Naturally, that made me curious as to what you were hiding in there." "And you couldn't simply let me have my little secret now, could you?" Harry responded with a touch of sarcasm. "Of course not." Ginny replied mischieviously. "What would be the fun in that? So... are you going to tell me, or do I have to tickle the information out of you?" So Harry stammered his way through an explanation of why he undertook brewing it in the first place, finishing his explanation by showing her the ring he’d planned on giving her. “Harry it’s absolutely beautiful.” She gasped, trying it on her ring finger. “So are you going to ask me, or what?” Harry grinned. “Ginny, will you marry me?” She shrugged nonchalantly. “Sure why not?” While it wasn’t quite the answer Harry had been imagining, it hadn’t been the evening he’d been imagining either. But even so, Harry still felt like the luckiest guy in the world. |
| Reviews 8 |
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