Choice's Curse {d.m.}

Restless

For the next week, the only thing running through my head was that deeply familiar scent, the sound of Malfoy's voice so low in my ear, and the way that he had said Pansy didn't smell of vanilla. The way that he said it, like he was admitting something shameful, made me wonder if the scent of the potion had any connection to its purposes. He had gone back to not talking to me again, which frustrated me to no end, though I couldn't show it, especially in Snape and Slughorn's classes, where I was in such close proximity to him that it was all I could do not to have every single thought be about him, and I was incredibly, painfully aware of any glance he might spare me, or any time he even showed he knew I was there. Our time alone was on my mind even at the end of the school week, and one day while sitting next to Ron and Hermione during lunch, I asked casually:

"So, does the smell of Amortentia have anything to do with it being a love potion?"

Ron and Hermione both looked at me from where they were sitting across the table, their hands intertwined even as they ate. It made my heart ache, but just for a moment. Luckily, Harry wasn't there, or I knew I wouldn't be able to stop myself from quickly glancing at him, and that ache would've been much worse.

"That's like, what it's known for," Ron replied, his mouth half stuffed with the warm lunch spread before us. "Shouldn't you know that? I mean, didn't you just make it, Ms. Slughorn's Prodigy?"

I rolled my eyes, sending Ron a fake-angry look, and he grinned back at me jokingly. I nodded and shrugged, pushing my food around my plate. "I was...distracted, I guess, when Slughorn went over it," I said.

Distracted. Funny.

"Whatever it smells like is most attractive to the one smelling it," Hermione explained. "Some people smell flowers, or clean laundry, or fresh cut grass, or even something like fireworks or smoke. It just really depends."

"Oh," I said, though try as I might, I couldn't keep the interest out of my voice, or the terribly feigned look of indifference that was written across my features.

"Why? What did it smell like to you?" Ron questioned eagerly, which earned a sharp nudge from Hermione. "What?"

"Oh, it's okay. It smelled like...I don't know, really. Kind of spicy, woodsy, something like that I guess. Malfoy was being a complete ass about it when he and I made it up last week," I said, my eyes glued to my plate in front of me, which meant I couldn't see the look that passed between my two friends, one that was full of well-meant, yet irksome pity.

"How? I mean, isn't he always kind of awful to you?" Hermione asked, tucking a strand of curly hair behind her ear.

"Oh, you know. The usual. Wouldn't leave me alone until I told him, and when I asked him what it smelled like to him, he acted like it was some big secret," I said, shaking my head at the memory.

I hadn't told anyone the full extent of our exchange, too scared that talking about it would convince me it didn't happen. And I didn't want it to have been some figment of my imagination. Not even the way he had turned so angry so quickly.

"Out of curiosity," Ron began, "What did his smell like? I can't imagine what sort of thing that foul git finds attractive."

The flash of his silver eyes when Malfoy had told me echoed in my mind as Ron asked.

"Vanilla and something else were his exact words." I answered. "But he said that isn't what Pansy smells like, which I thought was odd."

"Vanilla? That's...Wait, Malfoy and Pansy are dating?" Ron realized, a look of shock spreading over his freckled face.

I nodded vigorously. "You didn't know? God, I've already run into them once while they were making out, and I nearly vomited. It doesn't even seem like he likes her, anyways," I added, though I wasn't sure why. "Not that I expect he could like anyone after all."