Amortentia

He was late. Hermione was going to kill him. The pounding of his heart was deafening to his already aching head. Face dripping in sweat and forehead creasing in concentration as he focused heavily on not tripping over his own feet or falling from the undone laces whipping against his shins. It was safe to say that he was not impressed with the way summer had ended and the events that had taken place on the way to getting here. But that was in the past and he needed to centre his attention on the incoming danger of Hermione’s looming words on the horizon of the future.

The train was set to leave at 11 o’clock on the dot; he glanced at his watch, finding the time to be 10:58. This wasn’t good. His feet moved in a blur and with a silent spell, he proceeded on, faster than before. His polished shoes became scuffed as he bucked it down Pancras Road. Harry was forced to slow down as the throng of people got thicker and more of them got in his way. As he squeezed his way through the doors of the station the massive clock hanging from the ceiling hit one minute to eleven.

Harry gained his pace again and flung himself down the corridor towards the platform’s entrance. His hand brushed the shrunken luggage in his pocket and relief washed over him: at least one thing went right today. He jumped into the wall and the warping sensation took over him once again. The warm hug of familiarity wrapped around him as he looked around… Well, that was until his eyes clocked the time and watched, as if in slow motion, the hand strike eleven o’clock.

His hair flopped to the side as his head swung around to see the steam escaping the top of the train faster and faster. It then began to move. He twisted his body in a sharp circle and disappeared from sight, only to reappear in the brown interior of the train. He crashed against the wall in relief and took a moment to gather himself before pushing off and going to find his friends.

After being berated heavily by Hermione, Harry finally hugged both her and Ron and slumped into his seat. His heart was pounding faster than it had in months.

“I can’t believe that we are going back to school after saving the bloody world” complained Ron as he started his annual session of annoyance. Hermione rolled her eyes at him as though she had heard it ten times before which, Harry supposed, they basically had.

“As I have explained to you countless times Ronald, we need an education to do well in life, okay?” she said slowly,”Now, will you please shut up.”

Ron turned to Harry with an eyeroll as Hermione took out her newest leather-bound book. It was a massive tome that would’ve taken Harry at least a year to read. He huffed out a chuckle at the pair of lovers in front of him, finding their bickering quite endearing.

Harry opened his eyes to the train’s slow decrease in speed and the screaching of the metalwork as it grinded to a stop in hogsmead station. The lights of the old village twinkled beyond the windows and looked like stars in the inky sky of night. He stood up in union with his two bestfriends and slid open the compartment’s glass door. Waiting for a pause in the flow of people, Harry checked his pockets for his shrunken belongings and wand. After finding that they are all present and seeing a break in people, he stepped out into the corridor.

He sauntered down towards the lined up carriages led by those skeletal horses. Finding an empty carriage, he waited for his friends to turn up once they got through the masses of children around them. He watched as Ron pushed his foot in the path of a small child that had mouthed back at him after he walked into him. Harry watched as the rude little brat fell into the muddy grass and laughed. He chuckled harder as he watched Hermione’s face turn to one of horror as she pulled Ron with her, trying not to let people see her boyfriend, who was head boy, bullying children.

Once they finally got the the carriage, Harry and Ron still laughing their heads off and Hermione trying to hide her smile at their shenanigans, the other two sat down hard. The happiness flooded the carriage as it rattled along the cobbled and uneven road. The school was approaching offering its comfort for those who needed it.

He really did love his friends.

They were sat in the great hall with old and new faces. Ceiling sparkling and candles lit, they sat their waiting for the speaches to start. Chatter filled his ears and warm pink lighting shielded his view from the rougher edges of the walls.

The screeching of a heavy chair hushed the crowded students into silence. Headmistress McGonagall was standing up. She survayed the hall with a sharp eyes. They lingered for a moment as she moved up in ages of students; the groups got smaller and smaller as the ages increased. Those eagle eyes grew soft and sad as all attention was drawn to her. She knew there was no going back and saving those she had lost and couldn’t protect but there was always that nagging guilt in the back of her head.

“Hello again students.” She announced, voice powerful capturing all attention and commanding the room like the leading lady she was. “Another year has arrived. But this one is not quite like any other, this year we come back with gaping wounds and heavy hearts. I am not going to stand here and pretend that the war didn’t affect me. I am not going to tell you to get over it. I’m not going to force you to do anything. I am, however, going to tell you that it is hard, I know it is, we all feel the loss, we all feel the sharp shadows of those that used to stand next to us, we all have lost and we all have given as much as we can. So, I implore you, don’t blame yourselves, don’t sit here feeling guilty for living and don’t you dare blame anyone else who sits among you. For we all have experienced this tradgedy, don’t make it worse for you or anyone else.”

Her words were left hanging in the air, swallowing those in the room and wrapping around them. No body felt the need to clap. It was not something to celebrate, her words were meant as a firm reminder to treat those around you with the same cherishment and love as you would your bestfriend because if you don’t then everyone will feel ten times worse. Life was tricky and if you mess up then there may be no fixing it.

It was safe to say that Harry’s good spirit had vanished and with it went his appetite. They left behind a sombre and empty feeling, eating him up from the inside. The rest of diner passed in a blur, Harry didn’t know how he ended up in the eighth year dorms or where they even were for that matter. All he could focus on was the pounding of his heart in his ears and the pain suffocating his heart.

The morning had wizzed past him, he knew he had eaten and he knew that he had taken a shower and brushed his teeth but he didn't remember having a single thought throughout those processes. In fact, by the time he had woken up, it was half way through breakfast and close to the point where he should be getting up and going to his first lesson: potions. Great.

Ron and Hermione had left a while ago, Hermione to pick up a book from the library and Ron to go with her because quote on quote, he didn’t want to “deal with Harry’s bullshit”. So he wandered down the large halls of the castle that had been his first and last home all alone. He floated down the long tunnels like a ghost, ignoring all the stares and whispers like he was used to.

The sunlight started to fade as he made his way to the dungeons. The further he got the colder he got. It was rather unpleasant and he wondered how on earth the Slytherins stayed warm in the winters. Harry wrapped his arms around himself and held in the shivers that quaked his bones.

Finally arriving at Slughorn’s door, he realised that he was rather late and knocked on the door. It opened rather quickly and he saw the pompous man wave him in. Harry shuffled in as fast as his cold muscles would let him and pulled his books out and onto the table in front of him, next to Ron and Hermione. They looked at him worridley as Slughorn started talking again, he just shook his head and told them he would talk about it later.

His eyes wandered to the chalk board and made out the word ‘Amortentia’ through the hazy vapour in the classroom that seemed permanent.

“So students, now that I have given you the basics, open your new potion guide books and begin this new version of the most powerful love potion in the world.” Slughorn announced with a flourish. Before walking over to his desk and picked up his rather bedraggled quill and scribbling furiously on a blotched piece of parchment.

Harry brought the potions book towards him and flicked through it until he saw the title ‘Ministry approved version of Amortentia’. He collected all of the ingredients from the cupboard which smelled slightly like lavender and rosemary. He dumped all of the exotic ingredients onto the table with reckless abandon. He didn’t really want to be an auror any more, he never wanted to be in another fight ever again. So was there really any point in trying?

The answer was no.

He chopped and stirred and swirled the potion until it resembled a distant relative to Hermione’s potion which, in Harry’s point of view, was absolutley fabulous. Faint aromers filled the air: treacle tart, that woody smell of a broomstick and another smell which he couldn’t quite place. He racked his mind trying to remember where on earth he remembered it from. He totally forgot where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. Harry’s gaze wandered the classroom as his mind was in the clouds but they caught on one certain tall blonde’s head.

He stares for a while until that blob of silvery hair suddenly whips around like he sensed something, and caught Harry staring straight at him. Harry’s face flushed at being caught and quickly stared back down at his potion guide, trying to figure out what else he was supposed to do now.

Harry was in bed at the ripe young time of 7 o’clock that night. His mind was still buzzing with the wonderment surrounding the mystery smell that he apparently loved. His mind was drifting so much that he couldn’t even stomach the thought of eating diner so, with a rushed excuse to Ron and Hermione, he went up to get ready for bed.

But even in bed, he didn’t get any respite, his dreams were tormented with the thoughts of the new smell and a path leading towards a faceless figure in the distance that had blond hair. The dream ended before he got to them and when he woke up in the morning he didn’t remember a thing.