Amortentia
Summary: Professor Slughorn is teaching about the dangerous potion, Amortentia, and you smell someone you're not supposed to.
Trigger Warning(s): Potions, Slughorn (for those who don't like him), teasing, Pansy Parkinson, cursing(?), mentions of love/like/relationships
Word Count: 743
A/N: Just a quick drabble I wrote from a small idea. I wasn't too sure where to go with this, but I hope whoever reads this likes it :) Also, please take this as my application to be apart of the Draco side of tumblr/DracoTok.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three
"Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world," Slughorn said. "It is distinctive for its mother-of-pearl sheen, and steam rises from the potion in spirals. Amortentia smells different to each person, according to what attracts them."
You watched as the professor executed the last steps of the potion, lavender swirls fuming into the air.
"Do we have a volunteer?" Professor Slughorn asked.
You rolled your eyes as Hermoine approached the cauldron with slight apprehension. She leaned forward, her chest rising as she took a deep breath.
"Can you tell us what you smell?" asked Slughorn.
Hermoine nodded, uttering, "...Freshly mown grass...new parchment...and...and..."
Your eyes widened slightly, flickering toward the only Weasley in the classroom. Did the brains of Gryffindor have a crush on Weasley?! You stood up, making your way to the cauldron.
"I'd like a smell," you said, fiddling with the sleeves of your robe.
Professor Slughorn chuckled as some of the others girls in the class echoed the same desires. They all wanted to smell and see what attracted them.
"Alright, one at a time. Go on," Slughorn urged.
You took a deep breath and inhaled the fumes. They turned dark green and you smiled, expecting to smell the familiar scent of cedar wood from your boyfriend's cologne. But you didn't. The smell, it was sweet and crisp--apples? Your brows furrowed and the fumes changed to a rich, blackish-brown color. The sweet and crisp smell of apples merged and changed into an earthy, sweet scent. Leather. The third scent you recognized almost immediately as the metallic tang hit your nostrils. Money.
You stepped out of the way, letting a very eager classmate take your place. You sat at your shared table and rest your chin on your hand. Apples, leather, and money? That wasn't what your boyfriend smelt like... You chewed on the inside of your lip, deep in thought. If that wasn't your boyfriend, then who was it?
"Hello? Earth to Y/N? Did you hear what I said at all?"
Your gaze shot up to your partner, Pansy. She was starting at you, eyebrows bunch with annoyance.
"Hmm? Sorry, deep in thought," you responded, turning your head towards Pansy. "What was that?"
"I was telling you what I smelled," Pansy stated, her annoyance seeping into her tone. "Galleons, leather, and apples. Do you know who that is?"
Galleons. Leather. Apples. That was exactly what you had smelled. And knowing Pansy... You swallowed hard. You thought you had a good idea of who those fragrances belonged to.
You were almost too scared to respond to your portions partner. "...Draco..?"
Pansy beamed at you. "Draco," she confirmed. "I told you we're meant to be."
You rolled your eyes, desperately trying to dull the panic rising in your chest. Why had you smelled Malfoy, of all people? Not your boyfriend, not even someone remotely nice. Malfoy.
"You know that potion only shows us who we're attracted to, right?" you replied matter-of-factly. "You're just attracted to him. It's not meant to be."
Okay, maybe you had added that last part more for you than for her, but you needed some reassurance. And Pansy was sure as hell not the one to give that to you. If she ever found out who you had smelled in that Amortentia potion, you'd never hear the end of it. Hogwarts wouldn't hear the end of it. Everyone in this school would know you were more attracted to Draco and not your boyfriend.
Pansy opened her mouth to speak, her face contorted with irritation when Professor Slughorn proceeded with his lecture. "Amortentia doesn't really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room, causing a powerful infatuation or obsession."
"Dangerous?" someone scoffed. The timbre in the voice sounded familiar, arrogant. "This silly love potion?" Some of your classmates laughed at Draco's comment, a handful agreeing with him.
"When you have seen as much of life as I have, Draco, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love," Slughorn responded.
You didn't dare steal a glance in Draco's direction. Throughout the rest of the class, you kept your head down. When you were finally dismissed, you waisted no time ejecting yourself from your seat and fleeing to the common room. You needed some alone time, some time to think.
Why had you smelled Draco Malfoy instead of your boyfriend?
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‘Oh,’ said Slughorn, repressing a large belch. ‘Oh, dear. Yes, that was – was terrible indeed. Terrible ... terrible ...’
He looked quite at a loss for what to say, and resorted to refilling their mugs.
‘I don’t – don’t suppose you remember it, Harry?’ he asked awkwardly.
‘No – well, I was only one when they died,’ said Harry, his eyes on the flame of the candle flickering in Hagrid’s heavy snores. ‘But I’ve found out pretty much what happened since. My dad died first. Did you know that?’
‘I – I didn’t,’ said Slughorn in a hushed voice.
‘Yeah ... Voldemort murdered him and then stepped over his body towards my mum,’ said Harry.
Slughorn gave a great shudder, but he did not seem able to tear his horrified gaze away from Harry’s face.
‘He told her to get out of the way,’ said Harry remorselessly. ‘He told me she needn’t have died. He only wanted me. She could have run.’
‘Oh dear,’ breathed Slughorn. ‘She could have ... she needn’t ... that’s awful ...’
‘It is, isn’t it?’ said Harry, in a voice barely more than a whisper. ‘But she didn’t move. Dad was already dead, but she didn’t want me to go too. She tried to plead with Voldemort ... but he just laughed ...’
‘That’s enough!’ said Slughorn suddenly, raising a shaking hand. ‘Really, my dear boy, enough ... I’m an old man ... I don’t need to hear ... I don’t want to hear ...’
‘I forgot,’ lied Harry, Felix Felicis leading him on. ‘You liked her, didn’t you?’
‘Liked her?’ said Slughorn, his eyes brimming with tears once more. ‘I don’t imagine anyone who met her wouldn’t have liked her ... very brave ... very funny ... it was the most horrible thing ...’
‘But you won’t help her son,’ said Harry. ‘She gave me her life, but you won’t give me a memory.’
Hagrid’s rumbling snores filled the cabin. Harry looked steadily into Slughorn’s tear-filled eyes. The Potions master seemed unable to look away.
‘Don’t say that,’ he whispered. ‘It isn’t a question ... if it were to help you, of course ... but no purpose can be served ...’
‘It can,’ said Harry clearly. ‘Dumbledore needs information. I need information.’
He knew he was safe: Felix was telling him that Slughorn would remember nothing of this in the morning. Looking Slughorn straight in the eye, Harry leant forwards a little.
‘I am the Chosen One. I have to kill him. I need that memory.’
Slughorn turned paler than ever; his shiny forehead gleamed with sweat.
‘You are the Chosen One?’
‘Of course I am,’ said Harry calmly
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