Split personality potion (acts retroactively)

Hermione giggled excitedly as Harry read the labels, then held up a dusty green bottle.

"Open wide," he grinned, and Hermione eagerly complied, glugging down the potion like she was dying of thirst...

Hermione sat up with a start, rubbing her eyes. Her heart was still pounding from the dream, and she was dripping with sweat. Gulping, she reached beneath her duvet to find a particularly damp spot between her legs. Where did that come from? I've never even considered Harry as anything more than a...

Her mind wondered to all the times she had seen her 'brother' topless. Their many lingering hugs. Their one kiss - stolen by Rita Skeeter.

No. I can't afford to be having these silly feelings, especially not whilst we're carrying a horcrux, Hermione admonished herself. Harry's just a great friend - always has been, always will be.

Even as she got dressed for the day, Hermione was still puzzling over her dream. When she was stressed - and if the locket did anything, it made her stressed - she usually had a classic 'forgot something' dream. Recently, she had been spending most every night watching her friends die because she forgot to pack the right book of counter-curses, or arriving at her NEWTs only to discover she'd forgotten to revise. She didn't know which nightmare was worse. But a sex dream... she couldn't remember the last time she'd had one. In fact, over the last couple of years she had come to wonder if she was, in fact, asexual. Her inability to understand either romance, or the need for sex, was one of her greatest shortcomings.

Hermione sighed. It was a nice dream, an innocent fantasy. If only I had more like it. But that's how dark magic works, right? Pain and temptation in equal measures.

Giving her frazzled hair a quick brush, Hermione's heart sunk at the sound of Ron and Harry arguing. She wanted to ignore them, to pretend it wasn't a problem finally work out the dozen knots that had worked their way into her hair. But as the boys' voices grew into shouts, Hermione realized that this was bad. Very bad.

"There is no plan!" Hermione pushed through the tent flaps, right into Harry's full-on shout. "Dumbledore told me to find the Horcruxes, then Snape killed him. That's it."

Ron's face was flushed a deep beetroot. "I didn't sign up for this shit! I signed up for hunting horcruxes and killing fucking You-Know-Who, not camping in the fucking forest!"

"You knew as much as I did about what we were signing up for!"

"Well I definitely didn't sign up for being dragged around the country whilst you two fuck each other silly!"

Hermione gaped. "Ron!" She couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe he would ever accuse her of something like that - and with Harry!

"Don't pretend," spat the Weasley boy, turning on her. "I can hear you in the tent, moaning whilst he pounds into you. You didn't even cast a silencing charm - you wanted me to hear!"

"Ron," swallowed Hermione, trying to control her spiralling emotions. "Take off the locket."

He glowered at her, his anger unabated. "Why?"

"It's putting ideas, maybe even memories in your head that aren't real. I would never do... that to you." Her voice wavered with tears.

"So now you care about me?" snorted Ron. "As much as you do about Harry?"

Hermione looked to the black-haired boy for help, but his mouth was firmly closed. "I love you both as friends," she answered honestly. "Platonically. I don't know what the locket's gotten into your head about, Ron, but it isn't even possible for me to do something like that whilst we're fighting You-Know-Who."

For a moment, Ron's expression softened, as Hermione stared into his green eyes pleadingly. Then his rage came rushing back, contorting his face. "I don't believe you! You're fucking lying to me. You always have been!"

"Ron, stop blaming this on us!" shouted Harry, his own temper suddenly lashing out. "If finding and killing Volde-... You-Know-Who isn't what you signed up for, just do it already and go home!" Hermione looked at him, shocked.

"Maybe I will!" To Hermione's horror, Ron unclasped the locket from around his neck, grabbed his wand, and stormed away from them.

"Ron, wait -" began Hermione, but it was too late. With an echoing crack, Ron disapparated.