Wish Upon A Star

Ron's Felix Felicis

Quidditch practise wasn't exactly what Ashlyn would call...nice. 

 After letting in half a dozen goals, Ron's technique became wilder and wilder, until he finally punched an oncoming Demelza Robins in the mouth.

"It was an accident, I'm sorry, Demelza, really sorry!" Ron shouted after her as she zigzagged back to the ground, dripping blood everywhere. "I just —"

"Panicked," Ginny said angrily, landing next to Demelza and examining her fat lip. "You prat, Ron, look at the state of her!"

"Demelza, come here," Ashlyn said. "Episkey," and fixed her lip.

"Ginny, don't call Ron a prat, you're not the Captain of this team —" Harry said flying over towards them.

"Well, you seemed too busy to call him a prat and I thought someone should —" Ginny huffed.

Harry forced himself not to laugh.

"In the air, everyone, let's go. . . ."

"Good work, everyone, I think we'll flatten Slytherin," Harry said bracingly.

"I played like a sack of dragon dung," said Ron in a hollow voice when the door had swung shut behind Ginny.

"No, you didn't," said Harry firmly. "You're the best Keeper I tried out, Ron. Your only problem is nerves."

Harry and Ashlyn kept up a relentless flow of encouragement all the way back to the castle, and by the time they reached the second floor, Ron was looking marginally more cheerful. 

When Harry pushed open the tapestry to take their usual shortcut up to Gryffindor Tower, however, they found themselves looking at Dean and Ginny, who were locked in a close embrace and kissing fiercely as though glued together.

"Welp, I'm out," Ashlyn whispered and slipped right out. 

She could hear Ron yelling as she walked away as fast as she could.

Ashlyn sighed. She'd have to take the long route now. Adjusting her broom over her shoulder, she climbed the flights of stairs up to the Gryffindor tower.

On the seventh floor, she met Malfoy. He was standing in front of the blank stretch of wall, with a small first-year girl, who she knew was either Crabbe or Goyle. The little girl tugged Malfoy's robes and he turned around sharply to look at her. Ashlyn sighed.

Without so much as a second glance, she walked right past him, and into the next corridor, and up to the next floor.

The next morning, Ron was cold-shouldering Ginny and Dean and was treating a hurt and bewildered Hermione with an icy, sneering indifference. What was more, Ron seemed to have become, overnight, as touchy and ready to lash out as the average Blast- Ended Skrewt. 

"Harry stop it, you are making it obvious," Ashlyn muttered to Harry

"Making what obvious?" he said tearing his eyes away from Ginny and Dean.

"Really, Harry? You look at Ginny, then Dean, then your porridge, and then glare at it like it owes you money," Ashlyn sighed. 

"Ashlyn, what are you talking about?" Harry said pretending to know nothing, but he had a pink tinge on his cheeks. 

Shaking her head with a smirk, Ashlyn turned to her breakfast.

Ashlyn kept well out of their way, but Harry spent the day attempting to keep the peace between Ron and Hermione with no success; finally, Hermione departed for bed in high dudgeon and Ron stalked off to the boys' dormitory after swearing angrily at several frightened first years for looking at him.