SAVOUR THE AMOUR | drarry

vi

EDITED — 29/09/18

wc : 1893

"Potter, pass me the vials."

Midnight eventually blanketed Hogwarts and Harry wanted nothing but to catch his sleep after being labored endlessly by this cruel evil merciless woman (read : Parkinson) that they have been brewing Amortentia for the last 7 hours or so in the uninhabited part of the library.

Harry's bottom was starting to grow even more sore by sitting in the same place for hours, he wasn't even allowed to leave the bloody chair!

Harry, who was pretty much half-asleep, was startled by Parkinson's dangerously calm tone and fumbled for the vials immediately. Once his fingertips brushed the cold glass that was fastened shut by a small cork in each vial, he handled it to the girl that eagerly accepted it with her small hands and spooned it inside. Harry leaned into the bubbling cauldron that had spiraling steam on top of it, the content was a charming shade of a mix of purple and blue, mainly the purple because it was a pretty dominating shade.

Then he took a whiff. My, my, he wanted nothing but to submerge himself into the heavenly liquid, it smelt so amazingly good, so like a particular blonde that Parkinson had to push him away from the potion.

"Merlin, Potter! You almost plunged your whole face into the potion! We need it clear from Potter germs!" Pansy shrieked, leaning forward to check the potion only to freeze right in front of it and took a deep whiff of the aroma and her shoulders visibly relaxed.

Harry raised an un-amused eyebrow, and had too push her away from the potion too, back to her seat. "Potter! What are you doing?"

"Refraining you from plunging yourself into the potion! If you could do it, why can't I?" Harry crossed his arms.

Pansy smirked, "Now, Potter, stop acting like a petulant child and cut the crap. What did you smell?"

Harry turned wan and shifted uncomfortably in his seat under the piercing eyes of the Slytherin, she can't know that he smelt his best friend! Pansy however, wasn't having it, and growled, "Potter, what did you smell?"

"Why is it any of your business?" Harry shot a glare to the bobbed hair girl that with a smug expression on her face.

Pansy averted her focus to her nails, "Because, Potter, we need to write down what we smelt in the essay that we have to collect to Snape, you moron." She shoved a piece of parchment into his face and a feathered quill that looks funny. A small part of the quill was transparent with glass, and inside it was overlooking something like water, clear and glassy that is spiraling and activated. The tip of the quill was clear glass, and the feather was a shade of blue. In the glass, a small but noticeable text was engraved, veridicus. What does that even mean?

He leaned forward to scrutinize the quill even further and squinted at the spiraling thing inside it, "Parkinson, what kind of quill is this?"

Pansy looked up from her nails and raised her brows in surprise, "Oh, that is a very rare quill with the rarest peacock feather that I obtained for myself whilst my trip in Switzerland, Potter. Now will you get on with it and stop staring at my quill, growing rather tired at this time of night." She glared.

"No, I mean, this spirally thing." Harry nodded to the quill, eyes still glued to it.

"Oh, that is a simple luck charm my father set up for me. Now go on with it, Potter, we haven't got all night." She drawled airily.

Harry hesitantly dragged the tip of the quill along his scrawny writing, he didn't want Parkinson from all people to know that he has a crush on Draco! Who is, unfortunately, her best friend. He pondered for a second and an idea popped in his head, he could just write down Ginny's scent! He vaguely remembered Ginny's sickening aroma of women's perfume and this and that shoved into one into a very girly scent! You're a genius, Potter.