Amortentia Project
Potions class with Severus Snape was either interesting, or a bore. It was always a bore to Gryffindors, but eased with Slytherins. Gathered around by Snape's desk, students from the red and green house lean over to the cauldron with bubbling steam-rose.
Amortentia, as Hermione had answered, was the most powerful love potion in the world. What you smell varies from others, the scent that fills your nostrils is the scent that you are most attracted to.
Uninterested with the idea of love, Harry doesn't bother making an effort in going closer to the cauldron. His mind somewhere off, anywhere but the carved words on his right hand with the words "I must not tell lies".
He knew himself that he wasn't telling any lies.
If only he could hex Umbridge, and everything would feel like it's back to normal.
"Amortentia, as said by Miss Granger, is the most powerful love potion is existence. It causes the drinker to grow an obsession, or infatuation for the one who administered it. Understood?" Snape says, prompting for the class to respond.
"Understood, Professor." The class, including Harry, responds in unison.
Something catches in Harry's ear. It wasn't a bug, it wasn't anything at all. It was the lack of a certain voice, the one filled with sass and detest. The voice Snape would exempt out of nearly everything—the one in which Snape favored out of all.
Draco Malfoy.
Harry's eyes travel around the students leaning over to the cauldron, scanning the hair colors, particularly searching for pale blond hair. He leans forward to get a better view, and the scent of dark plum, and green apples intoxicate his nostrils. Freezing mid-lean, his eyes round with frustration.
And shame.
In disbelief he leaned over Hermione, whom he placed a hand on to warn her about his weight, he needed to take another whiff. There was no way his Amortentia was that.. Stupid Slytherin. He closes his eyes, taking in the smell again, and the intoxicating scent of green apples now dominating, fills his senses.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No, he couldn't smell that Slytherin.
No, he wasn't his Amortentia.
No, he couldn't possibly be attracted to —
"Good Afternoon, Professor Snape. Sorry for being late." Malfoy spoke with haste, shutting the door behind him as he reaches for his hair, attempting to check it.
All heads turn to Draco, including Harry.
"You haven't missed much, Mr. Malfoy. Please go back to your seats." Snape responds dismissively, which Harry had obviously expected.
Draco walks to a desk, far, far from Harry, sitting beside Blaise and Pansy who make space for him and whisper of what had happened beforehand.
---~---
"Now, for your assignment, I will be grouping you into pairs. What you will be doing, is to research on the properties of Amortentia, and possibly give me a vial of it." Snape instructs with a flick of his wand, gathering the previous Amortentia and vialling it into different containers. "This vial will be your basis. You may research more in the library. I expect 2 rolls of parchment as your report."
Draco nods in acknowledgement, eyes on Snape as he listens on to the Professor's words. His eyes anywhere but green eyes.
"Now. Granger, and Longbottom.."
Snape had been grouping them by pairs, not putting into consideration that some were practically going to fail or not. But then again, none of the students ever saw him give a single shit about student dynamics.
Draco's ears listened on intently at the words that escapes Snape's mouth. Keen on hearing the syllables of his name, and who'd his partner be.
Blaise.
Or Pansy.
Either of them.
"Parkinson and Zabini."
Shit.
Pansy nudges Blaise with her elbow, raising her eyebrows in a playful action. A snicker escapes her, which was responded with a light scoff by Blaise; who was already used to it. Unfortunately. "Hey, Draco?" Pansy glances at him.
"Yeah?" Draco turns to her.
"Who do you think your partner will be?" She asks with curiosity, which was accompanied by Blaise's nudge. "Hey!" She whispers hastily, the corners of her lips twitching. Both looked knowing. Like they knew who his partner was going to be.
"I don't-"
"Potter and Malfoy." Snape's voice echoes with a tone that he had repeated.
"Shitttt.. Good luck." Pansy snickers, gently pushing Draco to Potter's direction despite them being across the room.
Draco's eyes instantly narrowed at the sound of both their syllables in the same sentence. Him, having to work with Potter? It was going to be unbearable. Considering the fact that the 'oh-so-chosen-one' was probably gonna depend on him for nearly every step of the way. He'd have to meet him everyday consistently, like not seeing him everyday wasn't enough.
"Please sit next to your partners."
He bit down on the inside of his cheek, suppressing a snarky comment that was about to leave his mouth. This was a project. This was worth a grade.
This was worth a grade.
This was worth a grade.
This was worth a grade.
This was worth a grade.
This was worth a grade.
This was worth a grade.
He chanted those same words in his head like a prayer, more like a mantra of some sort. He had to get his head in the game, he couldn't have anyone else be better than him in Potions. Nobody will ever, in his name.
"Fancy being your partner, Malfoy." Harry says dryly, actually trying to sound pleasant. Like he wasn't going to start another banter with the blond, even if it was ever so tempting.
"Keep the bullshit to yourself, Potter. I'm only going to work with you because this was worth a grade." He spat bitterly.
Harry furrows his eyebrows for a fraction, keeping his temper in check at his reminder. "So, Amortentia."
"Amortentia, indeed." Draco nods, uninterested.
"Look, Malfoy. I know we aren't exactly.. Friends." Harry clears his throat awkwardly. "We aren't close." Draco states. "Right right right.. But I do want you to know that I care about my grades as much as you do. Well.. At least not as much, but you get my point, do you? I hope?"
Draco eyes Harry, arching a brow with judgement. "I get your point, Potter. Now, shall we finish this godforsaken assignment?"
"Deadline is next Friday." Snape announces, flicking his wand and the Amortentia vials go gliding into the perspective tables.
Draco stares at the vial being set on their table, taking in the Mother-Of-Pearl-Sheen shade of the potion.
His eyes on the blond, Harry notices his light furrowed brow. The way his lip twitches ever so slightly as he stares down at the vial. He swallows down the words he wanted to say, keeping them into the deepest pits of his stomach as he tried to hold on to the threads of dignity he had left. With reluctance, his fingers hold the vial, showing it to him.
"I'm not four, Potter, I know what it looks like."
"Just offering it to you. Sniff it, at least." He speaks with a slight grumble.
Draco scoffs under his breath, taking the vial from him and taking off the lid carefully. Before he knew it, his head was under the influence of chocolate and cedarwood, both familiar scents that he couldn't remember where he smelled them from.
He inspects the vial with a keen eye, his spare hand scribbling his observations on parchment. He holds the vial with three fingers, careful enough not to drop it. His intrigue is piqued when he notices a small smudge of crimson on the glass, his eyes immediately snapping to Harry's hand.
Clean. His hands were clean. The left, and the right.
"Must've been a trick of the light.." Draco mutters under his breath, closing the vial once again as he gives it a slight swish—discerning the way the potion sways inside the vial, the density, the consistency.. Everything had to be perfect. Perfect. Perfection.
He thrived, and lived for perfection. All things matter on perfection.
As he finished his own observations, Draco holds out the vial back to Harry, who had his eyes on both Ron and Hermione.
"Oi, Potter! I'm your partner, not that Weasley and Granger." Draco blurts out without filter, biting his tongue as he realized the implications of his own words. How stupid! How ridiculously stupid did his words sound? He couldn't possibly want Potter to be his partner, and his only, right?
"I look at them for five seconds, and you scold me?" Harry raises an eyebrow, scoffing lightly.
"Scold you for reasonable reasons. This is worth a grade, and the fact that you aren't taking it seriously is absolutely infuriating. I wonder how Weasley and Granger—Bloody hell, even people tolerate you with that low of an attention span!" Draco sermons, barely audible to the rest of the class.
Harry purses his lips into a thin line, his patience running down into a thread. "You can stop lecturing me now."
"Lecture? I'm stating!" Draco retorts incredulously, scoffing at his audacity.
"Stating condescendingly." Harry mumbles, raising his eyebrows as he takes the vial from him and begins to observe the contents.
"Don't you mumble at me, Potter, My father will-"
"Your father will hear about it, yes, Malfoy." Harry frowns, leaning his elbow on the table.
Draco parts his lips to speak, but none come out. He had retorted with such efficiency, it had silenced the Draco Malfoy. He didn't know whether to be insulted, offended, frustrated—
Or to be fond.