Isn't she just.

Palatua herself is rather plain, regardless of the expensive robes and careful kohl. The assumption is she must be more interesting than she lets on somehow.

The ball is a masquerade in the sense that one is to show up with a decorated mask on a stick, but even if he never put his down Timothy would be recognizable by height and hair, and Palatua makes sure anyone who didn't see the owl or hear the gossip gets the point.

Timothy was not planning shenanigans, mask-oriented or otherwise.

He looks into love potions. It is, after all, the long-term plan. Something with unremarkable ingredients, because it'd be a disaster if people learned, something with an antidote so he can have a clear head when he needs it, something with no resemblance at all to floaty, compelling contentment - 

Palatua doesn't think her favor entitles her to more than the Halloween ball, so when he's given that a fair shake she presents her hand to be kissed and makes no further demands on him, but he could always proceed of his own accord.

He's seventeen. He doesn't need to have a plan at seventeen. But he needs to have a plan eventually and this caused more of a stir than it should have because there hadn't been anything before -

- he finds her between classes one day a week later and says sincerely - "I don't know if I'm serious. With that in mind, care for lunch together in Hogsmeade next weekend -"

"I'd be delighted," she smiles.

They get lunch. He is charming and has presents (and four indubitably pureblood grandparents) and otherwise has fairly little to offer seventeen year old girls. 

He looks into potions. Gets in the habit of ordering miscellaneous potions supplies, so no one'll pay it much attention later. Rules out all the ones with ingredients only used for love potions; with the additional constraints this leaves two options. 

He decides over winter holidays he'll test them.

Can't be anything Palatua has to make for him, can't be unsustainably expensive, needs an antidote which also meets all the constraints -

One of them is a fiendishly complicated brew that, adding insult to injury, only makes a week's dose at a time. Mercifully he can tell if he got it right by whether it turns the correct robin's-egg blue. Also he will need some of Palatua's hair. The flavor is staggeringly repulsive, but maybe he still has that potion-taste-masking potion Karen got him for Christmas last year; if so it's within date. Incompatible with any other intoxicant or he'll break out in a rash.

The other is simpler and he can make two months in one go with a big enough cauldron, but dosing is dicey and if he takes too much or takes a day's drop an hour too early he's going to start speaking in verse, mostly about the object of his affections, and the comedown - if he skips a dose or just takes the antidote - is rumored to be brutally unpleasant; heartbreaking.

Which would he like to try first?

Sigh. 

He kisses Palatua on their third date, acquires hair, has a go at the complicated one - eventually he'd probably get good at it - he'll try that first if it comes out right -

It comes out right! It looks beautiful and smells like liquid fish guts.

He still has Karen's Christmas present for him. He locks himself in his room, soundproofs it and freezes his wand inside a block of ice so he can't do anything until it's melted.

He tries it.

It is not floaty, it is matter-of-fact. Palatua is perfectly wonderful, who wouldn't love her? She has qualities, probably, fill in the blank, and attributes, and characteristics, and traits, yes she does. What an insert positive adjective here girl he has himself. If he were to try kissing her again that would also be absolutely pleasant in some way no doubt about it.

Well, once the attraction piece is in place he can pick a girl he finds more compelling as a person. He is not tempted to trust her more than seems warranted, he is not tempted to embarrass himself, it's all right to prioritize her more but she hasn't totally warped his sense of priorities -

Of course she's trustworthy, that's a positive trait, right?

Once he's taken the antidote he rolls his eyes ...so he's going to need to be careful. All right. 

He tries the other one, just for comparison's sake, same arrangement in case he messed the dosing up.

This one's a rush. Tumbling head over heels, obsessively delighting over everything from her eyelashes to her presumably existent toenails, ten minutes after he takes his drop he's not speaking in verse and it's stabilized into a longer-term-sensible but still bubbly affection, he would be so pleased if she walked in the door, enthralled to hold her hand, she is the natural person to come to mind if he should need companionship for anything, if he wishes to meditate on the prospect of more than handholding that sure is some nonspecific but enthusiastic nervous excitement.

 He meticulously writes down answers to the questions in his notebook about how tempted he is to trust her, to prioritize her - he gets distracted from doing so, but finishes eventually -

Prioritize yes, she's so precious, how could he live with himself if anything happened to her or if she were neglected - trust not especially - he would like to, very much, but needn't.

And when it wears off -

- sudden crash of agony like he really loved her that much and then she died right in front of him and it was his fault and then what feels like thirty years of grief condensed into ten minutes and then it's over.

...next time he'll try stunning himself first, see if that helps any. 

God.

He curls up in bed and mopes. 

For Christmas he gets Miranda another spell plausibly from his valuable book in Holland, written out in her new notation - this one does indexing - and a silver bracelet supposedly enchanted so one can only put it on or take it off with a clear head. He doesn't know if it works to check if someone's Imperiused, he's not up to humans yet. It works on his love potions. He arranges Minor an introduction to an acquaintance who has a passion for linguistic drift in English since the eleventh century and gets him a illustrated Tales of Beedle the Bard from 1306. He gets Michael a whole array of things he found while looking for presents to ask Palatua to the ball with. He gets Theodore a bowtruckle.

He spends a while with Karen trying to enchant a stick of wood that can read Miranda's wand notation and move accordingly; they can't get it by Christmastime but they expect they'll get to surprise her with it sometime in February. Instead he writes up some of the spells he learned in China for her, and for Karen.

Karen is really excited about the Demonstrative Stick. As a placeholder she gets Miranda a book with a hinty note. She applies herself to the Chinese spells, which have no difficult grammar and therefore come easily enough.

Miranda loves her bracelet and the indexing spell and the hints drive her nuts what is it what is it what is it?

They're not telling!! Half the Ravenclaw common room has probably seen them working on it but they'd better not tell either, Minor will hex them.