Harry Potter: The Unconscious

Since the twins' famous serenade, all of Hogwarts had been divided into two camps: those who were impatiently waiting for Harry to finally understand and those who were betting on the fact that he would remain unconscious forever. The problem was that no one could predict when he would finally open his eyes. Harry Potter, The Survivor, The Savior of the Wizarding World, He-Who-Faced-a-Twelve-Year-Old-With-a-Sword, was also He-Who-Didn't-Understand-Absolutely Anything-About-Love. And the Weasley twins had decided to remedy this.

It had all started innocently. "Harry, you're gorgeous today," George said. Harry raised his head, puzzled, a piece of toast in his hand. "Uh... Thank you?" "No, really, Harry. Your eyes are a bewitching green." Harry blinked, chewing slowly. "You need my notes in potions, right?" George collapsed on the table, exasperated. "By Merlin, it's worse than we thought."

The next day, Fred decided to be more direct. "Here, Harry, sit down there!" And before Harry understood, Fred was half sitting on his lap. "Are you comfortable, Harry?" asked George, trying to keep his seriousness. "Not really, no," Harry growled as he tried to get Fred off his legs. "I love it when you're grumpy," Fred whispered. Harry looked at him suspiciously. "You're doing a social experiment, right?" George burst out laughing. Hermione, who was watching the scene, struck her forehead against the table. "I'm giving up."

A few days later, the twins decided to move up a gear. "Harry, we have a riddle for you!" "Again?" "What do a love potion, a Yule ball, and two very charming red twins have in common?" "Uh..." "It's you, of course!" Harry raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?" "Nothing, Harry, absolutely nothing..." George whispered dramatically. Fred and George patted each other on the back. "We're going to have to be even more explicit."

At this point, the whole school was suffering. The Gryffindor students had bet that Harry would finally realize the situation by Christmas. Ravenclaws were taking notes on "the Potter phenomenon" and attempting to analyze his complete lack of understanding. Hufflepuffs looked at the situation with a mixture of fascination and sympathy. The Slytherins... well, even Malfoy had stopped looking for trouble for Harry, too busy staring at him with a flabbergasted look at every interaction with the twins. Only Lupin and Snape refused to join the general chaos. "It's just a phase," Lupin said with conviction. "Harry is still a child." McGonagall stared at him in disbelief. "Remus. He's about to turn fourteen." "Exactly! He's far too young to think about... that." Flitwick snorted. "If we wait for him to think about this, we risk waiting until he is forty." "He'll figure it out eventually," Sprout assured optimistically. "Yes, but when?" sighed McGonagall. At that moment, a scream resounded from the other end of the room. "I'M NOT AN ARMCHAIR, FRED!" "If you were, you'd be the most comfortable at Hogwarts, my dear Harry." McGonagall massaged his temples. "It's my worst nightmare..."

"You know, there's always a chance that Harry will never feel that way," Lupin said. All the professors slowly turned their heads towards him. "Remus," McGonagall said in a slow voice. "We ALL saw James before he realized his feelings for Lily. Do you remember the level of denial?" "It was spectacular," Flitwick admitted. "But Harry doesn't look like James," Lupin insisted. "Oh yes," McGonagall said. "And twins are a lot like Sirius," Sprout added with a mischievous smile. "Nonsense," Lupin grumbled. "In fact, Harry already has the twins wrapped around his pinky," Flitwick said. "And he doesn't even realize it," McGonagall concludes. Lupin opened his mouth in protest, but stopped short when Fred passed behind Harry and whispered in his ear, "See you under the Astronomy Tower tonight, Potter. We have a surprise for you ~". Harry shrugged. "Okay. Is it for a new prototype of a farce?" Fred and George exchanged glances. "… Yes, Harry. Exactly." Lupin laid his head on the table. "It's a nightmare," he whispered. "No," McGonagall corrected with a sigh. "That's the daily life of Hogwarts."

"Ignorance is the night of the spirit, but a night without moon and without stars." — Confucius