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Astonishing scent

Summary:

"I hate to ask again, but what do you want from me Riddle?" he sneered. Riddle, however, didn't give him an answer but let one of his slender hands wander to the back of Harry's neck and tightened his grip. "And why exactly did your little brain come to the conclusion that I would want something from you?"
Harry took a breath to tell Riddle what his thoughts on that were, when he suddenly jerked him forward by the neck and pressed soft lips to his.

Harry is surprised by the smell of his Amortentia.

Notes:

Disclaimer: All rights belong to J.K Rowling. Only the plot is mine, if you would like to translate it, please contact me first.

Work Text:

The only empty seat in the Potions classroom was, of course, the one at the very front at Riddle's table. Harry groaned, why had he dawdled around like that? It was obvious that all the good seats would be taken. Admitting defeat, he moved to the vacant seat and cleared out his school supplies. As usual, Riddle paid him no attention, but looked straight ahead like the nerd he was, where Professor Slughorn was already preparing the lesson.

"My dears, today we will be dealing with the most powerful love potion in existence: Amortentia!" From then on, Harry blanked the professor. He was not good at Potions either way.

A bang jolted him out of his daydreams and he looked startled at his seatmate, who had slammed the textbook down on the table. "I know you don't give a shit about your grades, but I'm not going to get a bad grade because of you!" hissed Riddle. Harry knew from experience that it wasn't a good idea to stand up to the older Slytherin and simply nodded. "Tell me what to do," he tried to reassure him. The red-eyed man growled again briefly, but then let it go and explained to Harry how to prepare the ingredients.

They progressed very quickly and so it was no wonder that they finished much earlier than the others. They were congratulated by Slughorn and given points. When the professor had left again, Harry leaned curiously over their potion and inhaled deeply. It smelled fresh somehow, like washed laundry, but at the same time like old parchment and books, and there was a slight whiskey whiff too. Did he know anyone who smelled like that?

Slowly he leaned back again, but the smell remained in his nose. Even after he had moved a little away from the kettle, it could still be smelled. Strange. Harry looked around, but no one was close enough to him. He kept turning until his gaze met red eyes staring at him curiously. Harry felt a chill go down his spine. No. All the colour drained from his face as he put one and one together. No, it just couldn't be. He felt sick and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. He had to get out of here. Thought, done. He picked himself up awkwardly, stumbled and pushed the chair away from him. Then he rushed out of the classroom. All the time he felt a certain pair of red eyes following him.

He walked a few metres down the corridor and then leaned against a wall and slid down it. Squatting, he grabbed his hair and pulled at it desperately. This simply could not be true. If there was one person not to have a crush on, it was Riddle. Not only did everyone know that he didn't believe in interpersonal relationships, but he was also a huge asshole who didn't shy away from violence.

Suddenly a bag landed next to him, Harry's bag. A pair of polished shoes appeared in his field of vision and Harry released his hands from his hair, then looked up. He let out an exasperated laugh. "What do you want Riddle?" His counterpart just grinned and crouched down in front of him. "What, you're not even allowed to make sure your classmate is alright?" "Like you care about other people?!" "Now, now," Riddle leaned closer to him and stroked Harry's cheek with a slender finger.  "Of course I care about my fellow humans. At least as long as they have some value to me." The smug grin was firmly planted on Riddle's face. "You're an asshole, Riddle!"

By now Harry's cheeks were firmly in Riddle's hands and his thumbs were digging uncomfortably into Harry's skin. "Watch your language, Potter!" Harry scoffed and looked at him in disbelieve.

"I hate to ask again, but what do you want from me Riddle?" he sneered. Riddle, however, didn't give him an answer but let one of his slender hands wander to the back of Harry's neck and tightened his grip. "And why exactly did your little brain come to the conclusion that I would want something from you?"

Harry took a breath to tell Riddle what his thoughts on that were, when he suddenly jerked him forward by the neck and pressed soft lips to his. All tension left Harry's body as he tried to process the shock. His brain short-circuited. Had he really just been kissed by Riddle? And why didn't he think it was as horrible as he should? His thoughts wandered back to the Amortentia. Probably there was something to it.  Nevertheless, he was unsure whether all this was really happening. Riddle? Of all people kissing him? Unlikely.

While Harry couldn't decide what to do, the latter took advantage of the situation and moved closer to Harry. With the hand that was not on the back of Harry's neck, he ran through his hair and gripped it firmly with his long fingers, causing Harry to gasp. Immediately Harry had not only Tom's lips on his but also his tongue in his mouth.

Finally coming out of his stupor, he hesitantly returned the kiss and pressed his own tongue against the intruder in his mouth. Tom seemed to like that, because this time it was his turn to let out a low moan. This strengthened Harry's self-confidence and he dared to let his own hands slide into Tom's hair. It was just as smooth as it looked.

The two of them deepened the kiss and Tom slowly let his hands slide to Harry's upper body and then disappear under Harry's top. Harry squirmed slightly and tried to express his displeasure, but Tom released his mouth only briefly and breathed in a velvety voice: "Shh, precious. Let it happen. It'll feel good." Immediately Harry was engulfed in a breathtaking kiss again and had no time to say anything back. Tom's cold fingers ran over Harry's abs, which he had gotten from all the Quidditch training, and produced goosebumps all over his body.

Slowly they moved lower and lower and one bold long finger ran along the inside of Harry's waistband. Harry squirmed a little and moaned softly into Tom's mouth. The latter grinned into the kiss and dipped a second finger into Harry's trousers. "So good for me, little one."  Tom released the kiss and looked down at Harry. His second hand dipped down the back of Harry's trousers and Tom's fingers first gently caressed the soft skin over Harry's bottom before he lowered them completely and grabbed one butt cheek firmly.

Harry moaned louder this time and quickly put his hand over his mouth and blushed. Tom laughed softly. "If I'd known how needy you were, I would have done this a lot sooner, darling". He kneaded Harry’s buttock tightly and coaxed more sounds out of Harry. Meanwhile, his gaze was fixed on Harry to see every expression on the boy's face.

The hand on Harry's front brushed very close to his dick and he sucked in a loud breath. "Tom…" "Harry, tell me what you want from me." Harry looked up and gave Tom a desperate look. "Please!" Tom laughed again: "No, little one. It doesn't work like that. You'll have to spell it out."

Inwardly, Harry cursed the arrogant Slytherin in front of him, but he wanted him to continue. It had felt so good. His stomach tingled and he knew that a bulge had formed in his trousers. With great reluctance he looked at Tom begging, but he just grinned and raised an eyebrow. The message was clear. Harry gathered all his Gryffindor courage and murmured: "Tom, please g-"

Suddenly loud noises sounded from the classroom and interrupted Harry. The lesson was over. Startled, Harry broke away from Tom and stood up frantically. Bright red, he looked down at Tom, who only raised his eyebrow again and looked at him, expectantly. Panicking, Harry grabbed his school bag, turned away from Tom and fled down the corridor.

Tom looked after him and rose elegantly from his crouching position. He patted non-existent dust from his clothes and smoothed out small wrinkles. He ran a hand through his curls to tidy them up as well and hung his bag around his shoulder.

Grass, broom polish and treacle tart. Tom laughed softly, this promised to be interesting.

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