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The strange smell hit you as soon as you rushed into the Potions classroom, the usual damp stench replaced by something familiar that you couldn’t quite place. Stopping in your tracks, you looked around to find the source of the almost addictive scent, no longer concerned by your tardy arrival to class. Garreth stood at his station with a bubbling pot, and some of your friends gathered around him; they too appeared to be curious about what the redhead could’ve mixed up. You gave Poppy a quizzical glance, but she just shrugged, seemingly as confused as the rest of the lot.
“Where’s Sharp?” you asked as you made your way through the room, peeking into Garreth’s cauldron. “I thought I was late!”
“Somebody thought it’d be funny to frame Leander with a jinxed cauldron so that he could work on a new potion…” Sebastian spoke, eyeing Garreth with a smirk. The Slytherin was relaxed against a table, his arms crossed casually in that indifferent attitude that drove you crazy. Well, not that crazy- usually.
“I maintain that he deserved it,” Garreth responded, slowly stirring the mixture in his pot. “And it gave me just enough time to finish this.”
The group watched as Garreth gave one final stir to his potion, a magenta puff of smoke leaking from the cauldron in curling tendrils around the room. Whatever scent you’d detected when you’d entered the classroom intensified as you breathed in the lingering vapors that permeated the air. What was it that you were smelling? The pages of an old book, maybe?
“What exactly did you brew, Weasley?” Imelda asked, unsurprisingly. Although usually curt with everyone, any semblance of politeness she could possess always vanished in the presence of her least favorite Gryffindor.
“Well, tried to brew,” he admitted, “and you’ll have to find out after.”
“After what?” Poppy responded, her eyes widening. Like Imelda, she never had much faith in Garreth’s antics- especially when it came to his potions.
“It’s harmless! I’ll even join in on the fun,” Garreth answered, putting a jovial tone in his voice to reassure the skeptical Hufflepuff.
“I fear for what you consider ‘fun’, Weasley,” Ominis muttered from the back of the room, finally making his way over to the group huddled around Garreth’s station. As he got closer, the red glow of the Slytherin’s wand illuminated the changing expression on his face. Was he also smelling worn parchment in the smoke emanating from the cauldron?
Garreth rolled his eyes, then leaned over his station to stare into the bubbling pot. He sniffed deeply, pulled back as if to consider what he’d inhaled, then went back for another deep breath of smoke.
“Should you be sticking your head in like that, Garreth?” Amit asked timidly, his voice almost a squeak. The boy was flushed, his face reddening as he spoke. The Ravenclaw was one of the furthest from the bubbling pot, yet seemed to be visually affected by it more than the others.
“I do not know what he is doing,” Natty spoke, “but I do not think it is correct. Something is strange about that potion.”
“You smell the Quidditch pitch, too?” Garreth asked, pulling his head away from the swirling wisps of smoke. His red curls were limp with sweat, his nostrils flared despite the smile on his face.
“Why would it smell like grass?” Poppy asked, leaning over to catch a whiff. She blushed, pulling back quickly. “All I can smell is something musky, like a pomade… maybe I’m just imagining it.”
Imelda pushed through the group to Garreth’s station, moving the redhead and Poppy to the side as if they were obstacles in her way to the potion. The brunette girl bumped into Amit, the maroon on his face deepening as he tried to catch her. Ominis glared at Imelda, but seemed hesitant to act.
“It’s botched, Weasley,” the Quidditch star spat out, “smells like a burnt potion. Not grass, not hair gel.”
You watched as Imelda and Garreth began to argue, their faces flushed and foreheads damp. It felt quite warm in the classroom, and you raised an arm to wipe a bead of sweat off your own brow. The dungeons usually gave you chills, but you found yourself loosening your tie in the heat of the room. Everyone seemed to be affected in some way by the potion Garreth had brewed, though no one could quite name exactly what was happening. Your eyes widened as they moved from the dispute in front of you and landed on Sebastian; he was unbuttoning his shirt, fingers deftly working to relax the collar, his robe discarded on the table behind him.
Sebastian caught your eye, a red flush spreading from the tips of his ears to the freckles on his collarbone. You turned away quickly, embarrassed to have been caught staring at your friend. Despite the crush you had on the Slytherin—since you’d befriended him, if you were being honest—you’d made it a point not to act on your feelings. In your new eyeline, you watched as Ominis slowly made his way to Garreth’s station, ignoring the quarreling bodies that blocked his path. With his wand in his hand to guide him, he strode up to the table and leaned over the cauldron. As soon as he breathed in the magenta smoke, pale blue eyes closed in concentration, he backed away suddenly. The arguing seemed to stop once Ominis’s wand hit the concrete floor, the sound echoing through the classroom.
“You alright?” Sebastian asked his friend, moving quickly to steady Ominis and hand him his wand.
“What’d you smell, Gaunt?” Garreth asked, his green eyes so dilated they looked black. He turned away from Imelda, making the brunette huff in frustration.
“I, I don’t know,” Ominis mumbled, shaking his head as he accepted the wand from Sebastian. He glanced at Poppy, then pushed his way to the farthest wall from Garreth’s station, presumably for a breath of fresh air. Poppy watched his retreating form, her hand slightly reaching out as if asking him to return. You watched her hand drop, the blush creeping back onto her pale face.
“I must admit, I am curious,” Natty spoke, eyeing the cauldron.
Everyone watched with bated breath as she inhaled, no one quite sure if she’d smell anything or if the batch was simply burnt. After a few seconds, Natty pulled away, a smile spreading on her perspired face.
“Ah, fresh air- like the cool crisp breeze at night,” she sighed. “It is very pleasant, Garreth. Maybe you have brewed the potion correctly.”
“Well, is it supposed to smell like something?” Amit asked, turning towards Garreth. The redhead casually shrugged in response.
“Depends, care to take a turn?”
Amit hesitantly walked up to the potion station, watching Natty as she moved to give him room. It seemed like everyone was smelling something different, and you tried to recall what type of potion could elicit that kind of effect without having to drink it. Besides, the aroma of parchment and libraries that had been so potent when you’d first walked into the room was shifting, taking on a more woodsy scent. How had Garreth managed to practically bottle the complicated smells of the Forbidden Forest into a pot? What potion was this?
“My nose must be stuffed,” Amit spoke carefully, “or someone has Puffskein fur on their robes.” He leaned in further, taking a deep breath, “Tea leaves? No, it’s some herb that I do not recognize.”
Amit pulled away from the pot, shaking his head in disbelief; he had smelled two things, just as you did, though you weren’t quite ready to stick your face near the cauldron- or let anyone know what it was that you were smelling. You willed your brain to ignore the pleasant fog that had taken over, curiosity towards the potion’s name overtaken by the compulsion to inhale it deeper. Garreth grinned, his face as red as the hairs on his head. He moved to stir his potion again, more curly wisps of smoke leaving the cauldron as his ladle swirled through the shiny liquid. “It’s working,” he exclaimed, earning a glare from Imelda.
“What kind of potion is this, Weasley? No one else is taking a whiff until you explain yourself,” she grumbled.
Looking around at the state of your friends, you couldn’t blame the Slytherin girl for trying to take control of the situation. Everyone was sweating, blushing, and avoiding eye contact. You found yourself hoping that Professor Sharp would return and bring the group out of the weird state you were in. It was clear that Garreth hadn’t quite delivered on the ‘fun’ he’d promised; the aroma leaking from his potion was making you dizzy, the swirling smoke clouding your thoughts until all you could think about was-
“Amortentia!” Sebastian finally spoke. “You tried to make Amortentia!”
He pointed at Garreth accusingly, his finger poking the redhead’s chest. Amortentia! You recalled the name from an encyclopedia on dangerous potions you’d borrowed from Sebastian, recognizing too late that the curling smoke from the potion should’ve given it away. Of course, you all smelled something different, you realized; the scent of an Amortentia reflected what, or who, you found attractive. The old books… the Forbidden Forest…
You blushed, your eyes darting around the room to gauge your friends’ reactions to the news. Amit smacked himself in the face, muttering something in Gobbledygook. Ominis shook his head again, his arms crossing against his chest protectively.
“I knew something was wrong,” the Gaunt boy muttered.
Imelda’s glare had faltered, an embarrassed grimace replacing the scowl she’d been shooting at Garreth the entire time. Natty seemed to be having an internal crisis, quickly shedding her robes and loosening her collar in her distress. Poppy, unlike everyone else, seemed calm; she stood still, large eyes glued to Ominis, without saying a word. Garreth backed away from Sebastian, his hands raised defensively.
“I wasn’t sure it would actually work!” the redhead tried, his figure shrinking as Sebastian towered over him. You worried that your impulsive friend was going to hex the boy if no one stepped in; you finally decided to get involved when the sound of the classroom door opening kept you firmly in place.
“It didn’t, Weasley,” a tired voice spoke. “Fifty points from Gryffindor.”
Professor Sharp limped through the doorway to Garreth’s potion station, quickly using a spell to drain his cauldron and clear the last tendrils of smoke from the room. As soon as the pinkish clouds disappeared, you felt like you could think clearly again, your thoughts no longer centered on the alluring scent emanating through the air. Looking around at your motley crew, it was obvious that you weren’t the only one whose mind had been fogged by the Amortentia imitation; your friends were sighing in relief, the disarray in their compositions fading away.
“You’ve polluted not only your brain, but those of your peers. Love potions should never be experimented with- under any circumstances,” he reprimanded. Professor Sharp turned to walk towards his desk, then, with a hint of a smirk on his pale face, added, “and you forgot the pearl dust.”
Garreth snapped his fingers as if realizing he’d neglected the most crucial aspect of Amortentia, likely sidetracked by the potential effects other ingredients could elicit. You thought back to the time he’d asked you to nick a Fwooper feather from Sharp’s office- during your first class with the strict teacher, no less. Why wouldn’t you assume that Garreth would follow the recipe without adding some of his own flair?
“Two pages on the dangers of love potions from each of you, I’ll get to work on an antidote. I don’t want to test the effects of a botched Amortentia with the lot of you,” Professor Sharp announced. “Hormonal teenagers,” he muttered wistfully under his breath.
As everyone dispersed towards their brewing stations, the tension--awkwardness, really--was palpable enough to be cut with a butter knife. Imelda seethed at Garreth, visibly upset that everyone was being reprimanded for his actions, a spontaneous essay assigned to even the supposed victims of his experiment. You sat next to Sebastian at your shared workspace, hoping your burning cheeks wouldn’t give away the nervousness you felt coursing through your body. This was Seb, one of your closest friends at Hogwarts. When had your feelings for the boy ever made you act this way in front of him?
Getting out some parchment and quill, your eyes wandered around the classroom to assess the state of your friends- and avoid the constant looks from Sebastian in your peripheral vision. Amit and Natty were sitting as far away from each other as possible in the small space of their station, the Ravenclaw still anxiously perspiring. Poppy was staring at Ominis from her spot next to Garreth, who was seemingly unfazed by the trouble he’d caused- yet again. And was that Imelda sneaking glances at him? Like Ominis, she was sitting alone, though her Potions partner, Everett, was sick in the Hospital Wing. Leander, Ominis’s partner, was likely being scolded by the Deputy Headmistress for whatever hijinks her nephew had caused before your arrival.
For the first time that year, everyone seemed relieved that Professor Sharp had assigned seats rather than letting you all choose your partners; if Poppy and Ominis had been sat next to each other, or Garreth and Imelda, you were sure that the anxiety in the room would’ve doubled. Yours weren’t helped by the fact that your crush—unnecessarily confirmed by the Amortentia—was sitting a foot away from your restless leg.
“What, uh, what did you smell?” Sebastian whispered suddenly. You turned to face him, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “In the Amortentia…”
“Oh, um,” you started, your words spilling out before you could stop them. “It was the library.”
Sebastian nodded thoughtfully. “Same,” he whispered, then added with a smile, “I didn’t know you felt that way about Madame Scribner...”
You giggled, earning a suspicious glance from Professor Sharp. He appeared to be more focused on brewing some sort of remedy to Garreth’s mystery love potion than ensuring everyone finished their assignment before the end of class. More than likely, your group would be working on it later that evening in the Library- Friday plans be damned.
“What do you think it was for Ominis?” you whispered, looking over to your friend. Sebastian did the same, falling for the distraction. The blonde member of your trio was dictating his wand to write on his piece of parchment, but he seemed as distracted as everyone else. Ominis’s eyes were glassy, his forehead lines creased. Could he not feel Poppy’s willful eyes from across the room?
“Promise you won’t tell a soul?”
You nodded quickly- a little too quickly. Ominis was never one to share his feelings, even as close as you considered your friendship with him to be. To find out what he might’ve smelled in the potion…
“I think he’s got a thing for your friend, the small one,” Sebastian continued.
“Poppy?” you asked, smiling as Seb confirmed with a nod. “She’s madly in love with him, you know...”
“Really? Never thought a Hufflepuff would go for the brooding type.”
“And a Slytherin would be interested in an outgoing people-pleaser?”
“Slytherins can be interested in many different types of girls,” Sebastian whispered, a blush creeping onto his face again as the words left his mouth.
You swallowed quickly, your quill shaking in your hands.
“What… uh, what kind of girl does this Slytherin fancy?” you whispered, gesturing to Sebastian. “Or, um, girls…”
His eyes widened, the nervous shaking of his leg jostling the table a bit. You wondered if, like you, he was still feeling the effects of the botched Amortentia. That was what was driving the conversation, you decided; why he was so restless, so awkward. You hadn’t ever acted like this, had a conversation about something as intimate as crushes- at least not with each other.
“Girl,” he mumbled, risking a glance at you. “Just one…”
The rest of the classroom seemed to blur, your attention solely dedicated to the words coming from Sebastian’s mouth. How were you supposed to write about a love potion when you felt like you were still under the spell of one?
“I, I don’t think I’m supposed to see her that way,” Sebastian mumbled, turning his attention to his blank piece of parchment.
“The same… the same for me,” you found yourself admitting.
Sebastian's eyes glanced your way, cautiously resting his hand on the table. He slowly inched it towards yours, your fingers splayed against your parchment. You glanced at the inch of space in between your shaking hands, trying to look anywhere but those eyes that broke down every barrier you’d put up around your friendship with Sebastian.
“Maybe my heart is right,” Sebastian whispered, his voice barely audible, even in the silence of the room. “What if she’s the one I should be thinking about…”
“Your heart?” you heard yourself ask, your pinky finger reaching to meet his. You weren’t even looking at each other, yet you could feel his hesitant smile as your hands touched.
The door to the classroom slammed open, the moment interrupted; your hands jerked away from each other just seconds after his fingers had touched yours. It was the potion, you reminded yourself; he was acting like that, saying those things, because of a botched Amortentia. Sebastian probably hadn’t even felt that way before he’d been exposed to the fumes…
Leander walked into the room with an air of superiority, and you knew he’d figured out some way to get back at his fellow Gryffindor for nabbing him a detention. You and Sebastian watched as he ignored Professor Sharp, pausing at Natty and Amit’s station.
“You put on too much perfume this morning,” Leander said to Natty, his nose crinkling despite being a few feet away from the girl.
“Funny story…” Garreth started.
---
As you hurried out of the classroom, Professor Sharp’s assignment looming over your head thanks to your confused state, you heard Sebastian call your name. He pushed past Imelda to catch up to you, not noticing—or caring about—the obscene phrase she’d responded with. With the antidote certifying that any lingering effects of Garreth’s potion were gone, you were left overthinking your interaction with Sebastian. Even the revelation of your classmate’s crushes on each other wasn’t enough to distract you from thinking about the heat of his hand grazing yours, the soft smile of relief on his freckled face when you’d moved your fingers closer to his.
“Did I say something?” Sebastian asked, his large steps catching up to you even at your hastened pace.
“It wasn’t you talking, Sebastian,” you responded, trying to avoid his prodding eyes like you’d confess everything with just one glance. “Don’t worry about it.”
Sebastian stopped suddenly, pulling you to the side of the hallway so that you were out of your classmates’ way. You finally met his gaze, not quite used to looking up at him since his growth spurt over the summer. Like you, he was fidgeting with his Potions textbook as he worked up what to say.
“It wasn’t the Amortentia- or, sort of Amortentia. It didn’t work like it was supposed to, right? But I know what I smelled in that potion.”
“Books,” you responded. “That could be anyone, Sebastian…”
“And the Forest. Your shampoo, the musk of the Undercroft. The grass in Feldcroft. Butterbeer and pumpkin pasties. It was overwhelming, as if I was smelling every single memory I’ve ever shared with you.”
Your breath hitched, the butterflies in your stomach creeping up your throat.
“It wasn’t the potion,” Sebastian whispered. He reached towards you, entwining his freckled hand with your smaller one. “If anything, it just confirmed what I suspected all along…”
“What are you saying, Seb?” you responded in a wavering voice. Looking at your interlaced fingers, then back at him, you continued, “That you knew how I felt the whole time?”
“How you felt?” Sebastian answered, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “I was talking about my feelings.”
Your breath hitched as you looked up at him; his eyes held back a quiet intensity, his hand gripping yours as if you were steadying him. “I didn’t know you had… feelings, of any sort, really,” you mumbled.
“I tried not to,” he admitted, brown eyes never leaving yours. “We’ve always been-”
“Friends,” you finished for him.
Sebastian nodded, reaching his free hand to rub at the back of his neck. “I wasn’t sure if you’d ever want anything more from me, especially since I couldn’t come to a conclusion on what I wanted.”
“And you know now?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.
“I do,” Sebastian replied. He tightened his grip, rubbing his thumb against yours as a soft smile overtook his freckled face. “I want to be with you, I’m sure of it.”
Butterflies swirled in your stomach, relief cooling down your flushed cheeks. “You have no idea how long I’ve wished for you to say those words,” you admitted, looking down at the floor self-consciously.
“How long?” Sebastian asked quietly, beaming at you with a genuine curiosity.
“That trip to Hogsmeade,” you confessed, smiling at the giddy boy in front of you. “My first week here at Hogwarts, really.”
Sebastian laughed, the beautiful sound echoing through the hallway and reverberating around your head; nothing filled you with as much joy as bringing out his toothy grin. You felt yourself smile at his reaction, as bashful and nervous as you felt with his hand in yours.
“Ah, I’ve loved you longer,” he teased. With the potion’s effects worn away, and the reassurance of your feelings, your usual Seb seemed to have returned. “Since you knocked me on my arse in Hecat’s class, your first proper day at Hogwarts.”
“You love me?” you asked, the realization of his casual comment hitting both of you at the same time. Sebastian immediately flushed, his land loosening in yours, and began stammering.
Letting your clasped hands fall apart, you looked up at your best friend. He stood there practically vibrating with nerves, his freckled face red and perspiring, and simply watched. Sebastian waited with bated breath for your reaction; the thin line that had been protecting your friendship was now crossed. You looked around the hallway once, twice, and in a surge of confidence, you reached up to grab his shoulder and kiss his flushed cheek.
As you pulled away, your lips humming from being pressed against his warm skin, Sebastian blinked rapidly. You wondered if, like you, the romantic gesture had caused his entire nervous system to malfunction. Sebastian reached one large hand to his face, his fingers ghosting over the spot where your lips had touched. Willing yourself to be patient and for him to respond, you felt your blush deepen at the impropriety of your actions; not only had you just shown Sebastian your true feelings for him, but you had done so with little regard to common courtesy. Sebastian surprised you by embracing you into his large frame; one hand resting against your jaw as he kissed you, a tenderness behind his lips that melted every last concern you could have had about his feelings. The kiss was gentle, soft- the love behind it something that couldn’t be manufactured by a simple batch of Amortentia. As Sebastian pulled back with a content smile on his face, his eyes fluttering open, you softened in his arms.
“I know that’s not the most proper way to ask if I can court you, but I had to make sure Sharp’s antidote truly worked,” he said, searching your eyes for any hint of disappointment or disgust at what he’d done.
Nodding your head—though he hadn’t even properly asked the question yet—you reached up to bring your lips to his again, fully kissing him with all of the passion you’d restrained in your two years of friendship. As Sebastian returned the kiss, his arms wrapping around your torso to pull you closer to him, you couldn’t help but feel grateful towards Garreth.
But you’d never tell him that.