The Slytherin Transfer

15: "Always the gentleman, Potter."

"The look on Malfoy's face!" James cackles as he and I walk in late to Potions along with Sirius. We had just gotten back from pranking a group of seventh years, one of them being Lucius Malfoy, a greasy blond kid who I know for a fact is already on the road to being a Death Eater.

"That was priceless," I say, a grin on my face as Slughorn looks up from where he has the class gathered around, sniffing some Potion before telling the class what they smell.

"You three are late!" He calls, "Now, Mr Potter and Mr Black, I expect, but Miss Milton?"

"Sorry, professor," I say, a smile still on my face, "We had some important business to attend to."

"Yeah, you know, the usual," James adds, "helping old ladies cross the street."

"And donating to our favourite charities."

"Mine's St Mungo's," I say cheerily.

"Just," Slughorn pinches the bridge of his nose and beckons us over, "find a spot in line."

"Yes, sir." We all salut and follow his orders, getting in behind Lily, who's listening to something Snape is muttering in her ear with a small smirk on her face.

"Careful, Evans," James says, "I think you've got a bit of grease on you. Might not want to let that thing get that close."

She ignores him, though none of us miss the eye roll as she takes Snape's hand and turns him around, preventing him from snapping back at James.

"I smell lavender, nail polish, and a campfire," Mary says cheerfully after smelling the potion.

"What are we doing?" I mutter to her as she passes, and she smirks.

"It's a love potion. Whatever you smell is supposed to be connected to what you love." She shrugs, and I groan, rolling my eyes at the stupid tradition that Slughorn does every year. I've always smelled the same three things: fresh bread (which I know is made by Penny), lemongrass (which is the scent of Ms Delgado's shop), and then usually it's either raspberries or old book pages, but it's changed every year.

"Miss Milton, if you will," Slughorn says, gesturing me forward as I roll my eyes yet again.

I step up to the potion, leaning over the steam and inhaling deeply.

"I smell fresh bread, lemongrass, and . . ." I hesitate, a pit dropping into my stomach as I don't smell raspberries or old books, but something else that sets off alarms in my head. I quickly shake myself out of my daze and come up with a suitable lie, "and, um, cedar."

"Very good, that last one is new," Slughorn says, a bright grin on his face as he beckons Sirius forwards. The boy tries to wink at me as he passes, but I avoid his gaze completely, instead staring at the ground as I head back to the line, still shocked and concerned.

I recognized the strange smell as soon as it reached my nostrils, because it's the same smell that I smelled on the train, when Sirius took my hat.

Tobacco and vanilla. His cologne.

I run a hand trough my hair and try and forget about it, because what good does it do? I'm not in love with the boy, I barely know him.

Then why did the potion smell exactly like him?

"Are you okay, Cass?" Lily touches my arm, and I jump slightly, pulling away as she and Snape stare at me, the latter narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"Yeah. I'm good." I avoid the greasy kid's gaze and instead focus on my feet, listening to Sirius as he says what he smells.