Burning Ash and Lemongrass
Jon was balancing his cauldron in one arm, and his three textbooks in the other, heading to Potion's class. He slumps himself heavily down the stone steps beyond the base of the castle. Rushing students brush by him coldly— shoulder checking him, like he were invisible.
Better the cold shoulder than everyone staring at him...
He loathed the new attention.
He heads down the stairs, alone, into the Hogwarts dungeons, wrinkling his nose at the nearing smell. The Dungeon's stone walls shimmered a glossy film of light mildew, and he shudders at the newly chilled air, now walking a bit more cautiously down the corridor. He feels the air begin to tighten, cooling sharp in temperature.
"Jon!" A voice calls bluntly from behind him, “Wait!”
Her voice.
Anxiety of all sorts pools in his stomach.
He tilts his head around to see— but she's not how he expected— bright eyed, and... unnaturally giddy. She slows down her steps next to him, clutching neatly onto her stack of Potion textbooks.
Something was off... Did she forget what happened last night?
"Hello," she smirks to him dryly. The slight undertone of sarcasm in her expression was notably unnerving.
He nods back at her quietly, "Uh, hi..."
The Potion's classroom neared closer as they walked. Dany suddenly pulls him by his arm over to the side wall, guiding him aside.
Jesus.
"Can’t let anyone hear this,” she reasons, “But, about our detention tonight... I was thinking—"
Jon instantly interrupts, "Yeah, I'm really sorry about that. We should've went to bed when we had the chance. It was my fault."
She rolls her eyes, "Stop it. We were equally stupid. But I was thinking... Maybe we could talk about a plan of some kind, you know, before we go into the forest."
"A plan? A plan for what?"
She dips her chin down flatly, "To search for Bran. While we're in there?"
Jon blinks back at her thoroughly confused, judging her expression.
"What?"
"I know my way around in there quite well, actually," she boasts.
He narrows down his eyes at her, hinting a faint smile. "You're joking, right? We're not going in there?" he coughs casually, "They wouldn't allow a student to go back in there, after last night?"
"Oh, really? Well if that were so, why haven't we been notified?" She argues condescendingly, "Because, as far as I'm aware, no one has told us otherwise... so why haven't they? Brienne doesn't know about Bran... Arya still doesn't know about it. Nobody knows about it, except for us, and Sam."
"What? So were supposed to just pretend like we didnt hear any of that?" he says, nervously regripping his supplies, holding them stronger in his arms.
She raises her dark brows high at the obviousness of it, "Yes? How else would you like to explain to someone how we know, what we know? Especially after last night when you so clearly convinced me that we can't tell anyone."
Okay, she beat him there... But not really. Because this was entirely different. Now they could be in possible danger.
A few Slytherin students pass them, searing some stereotypically harsh, critical looks in their direction.
Dany shifts over further, pulling him by his arm again, "Hey. We won't be alone, okay? We'll have an adult with us?" her shoulders drop sadly. "And Bran's out there remember? Maybe there's a reason that we both got detention."
"Hold on..." He gapes at her for a moment, scrunching his face in slow realization. "You want to go out there don't you?" he accuses her with a smirk. "You'd rather die than get in trouble again, is that it?"
"Were not going to die, Jon Snow. And yes worse, I would prefer not get caught this time."
Wow uhm, she really needs to sort out her... priorities.
"This isn't a game, Dany," he averts his eyes, now walking away towards the classroom. He shakes his head, stubbornly turning around to her, "And if for some reason, they don't switch our detention to another room, I am going to tell someone."
She follows him with crossed arms, seeming to know him better than himself. "You won't tell anyone anything. You think I’m right."
Okay... that was annoying.
He stops under the stone frame of the doorway, squinting at her candidly. “You don’t... know me.”
He flinches around to suddenly Tormund, Sam, and Gendry behind him, almost pushing him into the classroom, Tormund bumping into him on purpose, belching loudly in his ear, completely oblivious to Dany eyeing him from across the hall.
Dany followed in behind them, ignoring the boys as she passes by to go to sit up front with Meera and Arya.
The boys take their seats, while Tormund suddenly scans around the room anxiously. "Where's Gilly?"
Sam's shoulders fall, frowning at him sadly, "Oh. She didn't receive a high enough score on her O.W.L.S. last year... for her to continue potions."
“Oh no,” Tormund shakes his head solemnly, “that’s just terrible.”
Sam narrows his eyes in accusation, now scowling at the pitying red-head. "Which now concerns me... how in Merlin’s hell are you in here?"
Tormund grins back cheekily, pretending to whisper, "Well, I uh, cheated. Off you, remember?"
Sam coughs out disapprovingly, "Not with my permission, I don’t? Oh... that's just great, Tormund? You know this is Advanced Potions? I'm not helping you with anything."
Suddenly distracted, they all turn around towards a familiar-sounding, cackling student.
"HA— oh my mother will be hearing about this."
In an attention seeking entrance, the loud-mouthed, blonde Slytherin boy struts into the dewy stone classroom, chuckling evilly with his two friends.
Joffrey Baratheon spots Gendry immediately.
Jon hadn't been at Hogwarts long, but he'd already hated Joffrey more than anybody.
And with his cocky gait, the boy dip strides over to Gendry, doting a very obviously, jealous grin.
"Well, well, what do we have here..." he taunts him, turning around smartly to his teeth flash-grinning friend, Ramsay Bolton.
Gendry squints up at them cautiously, as Ramsay rubs a rough, demeaning hand across his shoulder.
"I dunno, Joff... This one looks like a scared, frightened little bastard if you ask me..." His unstable, wide eyes burn, lit with insanity. An air-headed Robin Arryn chuckles stupidly behind them on his tip toes.
"What do you two want?" Gendry bites back.
"Oh, nothing... Waters," Joffrey teases, "I just wanted to talk about your little pity date last night with my girlfriend. I... just wanted to know how it went."
Gendry narrows his eyes. "Oh. Your girlfriend? That's odd... considering she's the one who asked me out..."
Joffrey scoffs back pathetically, about to spit back another comeback, when a tisking Professor Baelish squeezes a cold hand onto his shoulder.
"How about we take our seats for now, Mr. Baratheon..." the smug faced Professor murmurs, "And you too, Mr. Bolton."
The two smirking boys first glance at each other before walking away. Ramsay beams back tauntingly once more at Gendry, as Robin scurries along pathetically behind them.
Gendry rolls his eyes at them in secret, craning his neck around to whisper something witty to Tormund, but then he suddenly stops... upon catching Arya's warm brown eyes, glaring back at him. She instantly turns around, hiding her blush.
That’sinteresting. Jon watches Gendry slump back quietly in his seat.
Professor Baelish walks up to the front of the room, clearing his throat huskily, "Alright students, I assume that you all have your materials for today." He stirs at his already bubbling cauldron on his wooden desk.
He lowers his head, inhaling the aroma longingly. "Today class, we will be brewing Amortentia, the most powerful love potion in the world."
All the girls in the class, faces light up, giggling to each other in quiet excitement.
"Yes, yes..." He walks down the aisle, "And if done so properly, it should smell, quite exactly like your sweetest and most secretive desires," he swoons darkly.
Gendry scoffs out in disgust, silently mouthing to Sam, "Creep..."
Baelish eyes him dangerously, taking a blissful sip of something from his goblet. "And you will raise your hand when you are finished, so I can give you my approval. I'll also be coming around for available help when you get to work. Alright?"
The professor sighs out loud, when they don't move, gesturing to them all condescendingly. "So... go ahead and take out your ingredients from your cauldrons... And get to work."
"Jon?" Sam whispers quietly, as he lifts out his first materials. "What was Dany saying to you, before class?"
Jon eyes the ingredients thoughtfully, and then copies Sam's movements, taking out his Ashwinder eggs and Moonstone, then exhales in quiet frustration, "...She thinks we'll still have detention in the Forbidden Forest tonight."
Sam lifts a shocked brow at him. "What? They can't do that?" He chuckles nervously, "They w-wouldn't... Dumbledore won't allow it," he assures him, although he doesn't sound at all too confident.
"Yeah, well, I dunno now," he admits shortly.
Watching Sam carefully lay out his Peppermint leaves, he frowns in confusion, "Wait, don't the instructions say to... crush the pearls first?"
Sam shakes his head thoroughly, as he scrapes his Peppermint leaves with his own tool. "No, no. Do it my way, trust me, it works better than the instructions."
"Okay..." Jon shrugs at him carelessly. Copying his directions.
He subtly brings up Dany again, "By the way, can you believe, that after all that fuss, she didn't even tell uh—“ he looks over again at the girl with the dark hair and big eyes, “—Arya," he whispers, huffing lowly. "...It's crazy. But I think she actually wants to go in there."
Sam smirks at him first, but then scoffs in uncertainty, "Well, you told her not to tell her, right? And in where? ...The forest?"
"Yeah." Jon nods, crushing his moonstone into a soft powder. "And yeah I told her not to, but I didn't think she was the type to listen what people tell her to do."
"That's a good thing she listens to you at least..." Sam spoons in some of the dust, then huffs, "Cause she surely doesn't listen to anyone else. And you know what, I never truly realized how mad she was before last night..." he smirks a nervous grin, "...she's honestly delusional."
"I don’t think she’s mad..." Jon hums softly, "I mean... she's a bit off, I think... But I think she has a good heart."
Sam stops pressing the powder with his ladle. "Jon, no offense, but you really don’t understand who she is—" he tries to read his expression carefully. "...Wait a minute. You're not thinking about her... in that sorta way, are you?"
"What?"
Sam sighs at him, his expression growing tired, "I think you should know by now, that I'm no git, Jon." He continues crushing the silvery white stone, snooting his nose over, "I saw the way you looked at her last night..."
"What?" Jon huffs at him defensively. "I didn't look at her... in a way..." he scoffs.
Sam squints an eye, wincing in wavered rebuttal. “Ehhh...”
"I mean, I obviously looked at her, but like— where else would I look—“
"Right..." Sam smirks back lightly, patting his back, "Now, I don't blame you for it, Jon, but hear me out. Whatever she's planning, just don't get involved in it, okay?" he breathes out heavily. "Daenerys Targaryen is trouble," he emphasizes warning, "Reckless, impulsive, trouble."
"That's a bit dramatic."
Sam first checks up a glance at Baelish, as the man unnecessarily bends over, helping a pretty, young witch stir her cauldron, hand over hand.
“Ugh... anyway—“ He whispers back to Jon sadly, "Okay. Let me explain this. She thinks you're dangerous... and you're not," he gestures to him in verification, "Now, I'm just warning you not to think of her that way because she's not seeing you the same. Once she realizes you're not a psycho, she'll get bored. No offense."
"What? If she thought I was dangerous, why would she keep trying to talk to me?"
"Because she fancies danger, Jon!" He chuckles, as if it were obvious, "She goes out of her way looking for it. And she may have good intentions, considering she wants to solve the world's problems in a day... but when she gets the information that she wants, out of you, she'll move on."
"Well..." Jon squints into his sparkling, smoky pot, "no offense, Sam. But I think this is different."
“Yeah?” Sam points over to a handsome boy in a maroon sweater, laughing across the room. "Look over there," he head nods. "Good old Daario Naaharis.”
"What about him?"
"Well, last year— Daario told all of us that he was bloody dating Daenerys Targaryen." Sam raises his eyebrows at the ridiculousness of it. "Meanwhile, when she figured out what she needed out of him, for whatever it was she was looking for,” he squints up at the low rotten-wood ceiling, “I think— it was like about his family's house elves or something—" He rolls his eyes, "She shut him out cold, in the drop of a hat. No explanation."
Jon eyes the other dark haired boy cautiously.
Dating her... how?
"She thinks she's a part of this greater purpose. Like helping the ones who can't speak for themselves— blah blah blah," Sam goes on, "It's mad. Like she actually believes that house elves shouldn't be house elves? Like where would they go?" he chuckles. "And if I'm for certain about one thing, Jon. It's that she does not care a single smidge, whose feelings she steps on along the way— if it'll help the greater good. Just... be careful with her."
Then in a quick whiff, Sam's cauldron starts bubbling wildly over the brim.
"Ohhh, look at this," Baelish sneaks over, upon hearing the finished potion. "Oh my, I think we may have our first brew. Here we go, class. Let's take a look—"
He leans over, smelling the flowing pop-brewing liquid. "Ah..." he nods contently, "Well done, Mr. Tarly..."
Then he looks down at it again, suddenly puzzled. "Although I don't quite understand why it looks lighter in color... It should be a dark magenta... not a pale pink... But other than that, it does seem exquisitely right, indeed. 15 points to Gryffindor."
The professor smirks at their whole row, "Go ahead boys, take a whiff. Wow—" he realizes, laughing, "This actually seems to be extremely potent."
Tormund instantly lifts his head and dips it all the way into the pot.
Baelish yanks him back by his hair, scolding him, "—Not so close, boy? You don't want to bloody pass out."
“Wow.” Tormund peers back over at Gendry in a dreamlike daze, "Wow... that's... really so... lovely," he breathes.
"Well, what does it smell like?” Gendry wonders, “Or who...” he wiggles his eyebrows.
”—No, I smell hot cinnamon rolls... and four-leaf clovers... like it's right here, in front of me!"
"Lame." Gendry laughs heartily and then slowly bends over to inhale the pink concoction himself, “Move over.”
Immediately his shoulders relax— and then he sinks back into his chair. "Ohhhhhhh. That is nice..." He slouches, sinking even lower, "That smells like..." he squints, now somewhat confused, "Wait a minute... that kinda smells like dog?"
The class giggles. He goes on, "But wait, it could be a wolf— with a hint of pretty winter lilies... and fried turkey." The class giggles again.
"All right, that's enough Mr. Waters," Professor Baelish quips. "I don't even want to know what that's relating to."
•
After all the silly commotion of students, smelling each other's love potions, and teasing each other until the very end of class, Jon stares down critically at his greenish, golden goo. Bubbling ever so slightly in his own clumpy pot. He decides to privately take a quick sniff at Sam's.
"I thought you didn't want a turn?" Sam asks, innocently catching him.
Jon smirks a shrug, trying to hold down the warm fizzy feeling floating up from the pit of his stomach.
Wow.
"Well, whats it smell like?"
"Like... chocolate... frogs, maybe," he exhales, "...and burning smoke. Ash... with lemongrass..."
He comes back down from the high, glancing back at Sam who was grinning at him scandalously.
Sam gathers his books, "Hmmm... I wonder what Daenerys smelled?" he teases him lightly.
"Shut up." He whacks his arm jokingly. "If you don't want me to like her, don't say things like that."
”So you admit it, then?”
Jon rolls his eyes. “No.”
“...Right, well," he says, biting back a grin, gathering together his notes. "Just let me give you one more piece of advice, Jon."
Jon nods, blinking back in acknowledgment.
"If you do, end up in the forest tonight..." he warns sternly, "I would stay as close to the group as you possibly can. And— no matter how hard she tries to lure you away... don't follow her. Okay?"
Okay...
"Yeah I get it. I promise." Jon rolls his eyes again, patting his back.
Sam's eyes flicker a light of grave sorrow, "I'm serious, Jon... I'm worried about you coming back alive."