Chapter Text
“Fitz, make sure you stir that counter-clockwise exactly seven times.”
Fitz huffed, “Yes, Jemma, I know. I helped create this potion too, you know.”
The 7th year Ravenclaws were best friends and typically so in sync with one another their friends referred to them as a single unit-- Fitzsimmons. But with the deadline for their capstone project in Slughorn’s NEWT potions class quickly approaching, tensions were at an all time high.
They had been tasked with developing a brand-new potion. Both Muggleborns who had bonded over a love of science, they had approached the project with gusto, applying the scientific method to their magical homework.
The pale blue potion glistened and shimmered, a fragrant steam rolling off of it.
Jemma peered over the edge of the cauldron, “I think it’s ready.”
“Guess there’s only one way to find out.”
Jemma laddled the potion into two flasks and handed one to Fitz. Testing the potion on themselves was a little risky, but necessary in this case
“Cheers,” Jemma said, raising her flask in the direction of Fitz.
“Bottoms up.”
The pair both downed the potion in one gulp.
Fitz asked, “Did it work?”
Jemma wrinkled her brow, “I’m not sure.”
She had to admit, it didn’t look promising. The potion was supposed to induce flight, but at present, their feet were firmly rooted on the ground.
Suddenly, Jemma was reminded of their flying lessons with Madam Hooch in their first year. That sparked an idea— maybe it needed a trigger to work.
She thought the word “up” and suddenly, she was floating off the ground.
“Fitz, the potion works! You just need to think the word up,” Jemma exclaimed, using her arms to propel herself higher.
Fitz joined her in the air, “This is awesome.”
Fitz tried to make his way over to where Jemma was hovering, but ended up colliding with her in midair. They both yelped in pain, but eventually, that feeling gave way to laughter.
“Okay, control leaves something to be desired, but that’s something we can work on. The important thing is that we did it! We officially made a brand new, functional potion.”
“We did, didn’t we?” Jemma smiled brightly. “This is going to look amazing on our resumes when we apply to the Department of Mysteries after graduation.”
All of a sudden, Jemma realized how close they were to each other, floating above their workstation in the empty classroom. They locked eyes and electricity crackled between them.
Asking permission with his eyes, Fitz closed the short distance between them, pressing his lips to Jemma’s. Soft and tentative at first, she grabbed Fitz’s robes and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. With no leverage or gravity pulling them down, they spun around in the air.
Breaking apart, Jemma rested her forehead on Fitz’s, “Wow, that was amazing.”
Fitz nodded, “And amazingly overdue. I’ve wanted to do that since fifth year.”
Instead of replying, Jemma pulled him in for another kiss. This one was more playful and passionate, trying to make up for lost time.
And then suddenly, they came crashing to the ground in a tangled mess of limbs.
Jemma rubbed her head, “Ow.”
Scrambling to his feet, Fitz pulled Jemma up and asked, “You alright?”
“Slightly bruised, but on the whole, never better.”
“Me too,” Fitz looked at his watch. “Looks like the potion lasts about 10 minutes. Not bad, but we can probably increase the efficacy.”
“Let’s work on it tomorrow.”
Fitz raised his eyebrows, “Who are you and what have you done with Jemma Simmons?”
“I had something else in mind tonight.”
“Yeah? And what’s that?”
“Well, I thought I’d celebrate an enormous academic achievement with my new boyfriend and partner,” Jemma said earnestly.
Fitz beamed, “I like the sound of that. All of it.”
“Good, let’s get out of here.”
The new couple gathered their notes and supplies and left the classroom, hand in hand.