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"Goose, you sure it’s the real thing? Why does it look so weird?"
Pete shook the vial and regarded the liquid in it with a suspicious face. Even if it was just a prank, he — the youngest Seeker Gryffindor had ever seen in history who had terrified so many enemies both on the oval pitch and in love — needed to ensure that it was the best prank of this century. Using some fake stuff? Totally unacceptable.
"Of course." Nick nodded, holding a book as thick as a brick. "Absolutely. Transparent, colorless, bubbling. Exactly the same as written in the book. Besides, it was from Carole’s third aunt’s second cousin who has connections in the Knockturn Alley. So if you doubt this potion, you will be doubting Carole."
There seemed to be something wrong with the logic. But Pete was not gonna argue with his best friend.
"But I thought it would be a bit… fancier? Like, I don’t know, pink? After all, it’s…"
"Love Potion, I know. But love is just like this, Mav." Nick sighed sagely. "When love approaches, there is not necessarily any obvious sign. You won’t be noticing anything. But when it strikes, it’s arresting, overwhelming. Like the peace before a storm."
Pete couldn’t help but howl with laughter. He shook his head, massaging the aching stomach. "Such a poet, huh, Goose? How many Carole’s Muggle fics have you read?"
With great amusement, he watched a blush climb its way into Nick’s cheeks, and the taller wizard began to stammer out a feeble denial.
"All right, all right. Like you could have me fooled with that. But it’s not bad, considering that we will add it to water. Less likely for them to notice."
Nick was visibly relieved. He put the book down and summoned the cup they prepared.
"Carole told me that the Love Potion is custom-made, and it will not push whoever drinks this to fall in love with us. Rather, it will let them love a random somebody. The effect lasts for one day."
Pete smirked with mischief. "What a pity. I’d rather be loved by some dumbass Prefect, and then dump them. Must be delicious."
Something unreadable flickered across Nick’s face. He opened his mouth, then decided against it. Just as Pete was about to ask whether his friend was hiding something from him, Nick took the vial from his hand and opened the cork.
Instinctively, Pete inhaled.
A strange feeling spread from the tip of his nose, like a long winter that was finally clearing up, with warm sunlight gradually seeping into his blood. He felt his heartbeat suddenly quicken as if it were trying to break free from its restraints and reveal all the secrets he had hidden away. Pete felt like he was dreaming. He wanted to wake up but knew he would rather give up everything—except Quidditch, maybe—than let this dream end.
He felt both excited and scared.
The air was filled with... the unique pine fragrance of a brand-new Firebolt, the sweetness of chocolate cookies, and another scent, not overpowering, but it instantly captured all of Pete's attention.
Mint.
It was a faint minty smell similar to a Muggle snack called chewing gum.
He knew this snack because there was someone who loved it. The said person was always chewing it, a habit that could be annoying, but the minty scent around him was actually pleasant. So every time Pete saw him, he couldn't help but lean closer—though most of the time it was to tease and counter-tease. Each time he passed by him on the Quidditch pitch, catching a glimpse of the other’s sweaty blonde hair and rosy cheeks from the corner of his eye, Pete couldn't help but close his eyes and take a deep breath, unable to resist imagining whether the man's kiss would also be...
"What did you smell, Mav?"
Pete was snapped back to reality.
"Uh, well…" His voice was a bit hoarse. "Just, Firebolt."
Nick frowned at him with disbelief written all over his face. Pete knew his own face must be flushed, but he stubbornly stared at his friend, refusing to back down.
Fortunately, Nick was just as clueless about Legilimency as Pete was. Otherwise, he would discover Pete's extremely awkward crush.
A crush on the biggest rival of Gryffindor in Quidditch.
A crush on the Ravenclaw prefect, the Quidditch captain, and the Straight-A student—someone who should have been Pete's sworn enemy.
The crush on Tom Kazansky.
Pete cleared his throat, grabbed the potion, and added two drops to the cup in front of him, trying very hard not to let his hands shake too noticeably. "We need to hurry, Goose, only a few minutes left."
That was true, though. Only five minutes later, the Prefect’s meeting would start, as the time announced on the bulletin board, and they still had to sneak back to the secret room behind their dormitory.
Nick shrugged and let it pass. But Pete knew he would eventually ask about the love potion again.
He’d deal with it later.
That was his life motto anyway.
Five minutes later, Pete stood in the empty common room, starting to doubt his entire life.
"Where is everyone?"
Nick shook his head, indicating he didn’t know either.
"Then what was the point of all this preparation?"
"Preparation for what, Maverick?"
Great. Just fantastic. It seemed that fate had decided to make things harder for him, as Kazansky chose this moment to walk into the common room.
Pete cursed under his breath and slowly turned around.
Fuck. He shouldn’t have done that.
Kazansky had just finished a round of Quidditch practice, it seemed, as he was still in his sweaty suit that clung to him. A few beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, sliding down beside his perfect lips and along his perfect cheek. His face was slightly flushed, probably from the exercise, and his breathing was a bit heavy.
Pete had to clench his fists to prevent himself from doing something stupid (like reaching out to touch Kazansky’s hair, as he had been wondering if it was soft).
Kazansky took a step closer, tilting his head. The mint scent surrounding him made Pete a bit dizzy.
"What the heck are you up to this time?" he asked, leaning in further, fixing his gaze on Pete.
Pete would retort back, he really would, but that would have to wait until something meaningful solidified in his brain. For now, he could only stare into those icy blue eyes, desperately praying that his gaze wouldn’t drift down to Kazansky’s lips (or that he wouldn’t be caught if it did).
The suspicious and slightly annoyed prefect mode somehow made Kazansky look even more attractive, which was unreasonable.
"We… got you some water!"
Both of them jumped at Nick's cheerful voice. Pete turned to see Nick holding up a cup of water.
Holding up that cup of water.
No.
He was about to speak when Kazansky interjected, "I don't believe that you guys would be so kind…"
Pete nodded vigorously toward Kazansky, at the same time trying to signal to Nick with his eyes that they were not gonna do this.
"Yes, that’s right. Don't trust it, Iceman."
He wasn't ready to face Kazansky, who had taken the love potion and fallen in love with a stranger, even if it was just for a day, even if it was all fake. Whenever he tried to imagine Kazansky tenderly looking at someone who had a blurred face, smiling at that person, slender fingers holding the other's wrist, then slowly, slowly moving closer, gently giving the other a mint-flavored kiss, Pete felt his heart tightened suddenly as if he had just eaten the most bitter Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean.
"...But seeing you agreeing with my point of view makes me doubt again."
DAMN.
"It seems like your plan is to not let me drink this cup of water."
It’s not. Not at all.
"Then I'm definitely going to drink it."
Seriously, how did Kazansky get into Ravenclaw with this only brain cell?
In slow motion, Pete watched Kazansky reaching for the cup.
He quickly raised his wand, intending to knock Kazansky unconscious, but the other easily deflected his attack, swiftly dodging to the side.
"Really, Maverick, Stupefy? Just for this glass of water?"
After speaking, Kazansky raised the glass and drank it in one gulp.
Pete stood dumbfounded, unable to speak or move. Kazansky licked his lips with his tongue, and put down the empty cup.
"Sweet, tastes like butterbeer. Wait, now it's kind of... like... like..."
Kazansky furrowed his brow, his gaze searching the room, then settling on Pete. Pete watched as the clarity in those blue eyes gradually faded, replaced by a strange, dazed determination.
"Pete."
Kazansky pronounced his name softly, as if it’s a prayer, as if in murmured whispers, as if this name meant more to him than the whole world, as if this name was the only thing he wanted, as if...
As if it belonged to his lover.
No.
No!
Nonononono.
Pete took a step back, then another. He turned towards the wall to escape, but Kazansky strode over, grabbing his wrist with a searing warmth that clutched his pulse.
"Pete, don't go, please, I need to tell you something..."
"I don't wanna hear it."
"You... you don't want to hear it?..."
Pete froze, even though the blonde had already let go of him.
Kazansky sounded... soft. Cautious. Quite unsure.
Very sad.
Pete squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He knew he would regret this, but he didn't want to hurt Kazansky, even if it meant his own heart would shatter into a million pieces.
And this might be his only chance to feel what it's like to be loved by Kazansky, said the part of Pete's heart that was accustomed to self-deprecation.
He took a deep breath and turned around.
—And then forgot how to breathe.
While he was steeling himself for the inevitable, Kazansky had moved a few steps closer, trapping Pete between his strong body and the wall. Now there was only a breath's distance between them. Pete could feel the hot breath of the other brushing his cheek, making him shudder involuntarily. He had to lift his head to gaze into the eyes that had occupied countless of his dreams, eyes that were now looking back at him with endless affection.
Kazansky leaned down, his lips close to his ear.
"I remember you said you didn't want to hear it?"
Pete bit his lower lip to keep himself from making any embarrassing sound.
"So, you want to hear it now?"
Their bodies pressed tightly against each other. Pete felt the other's warmth, the scent of mint around them so heady that it clouded his thoughts.
He nodded.
Kazansky looked into his eyes and grinned broadly.
This was the first time Pete had seen him like this. Kazansky radiated pure joy, flashing his white teeth at him. There were small lines at the corners of his eyes, his nose slightly wrinkled, as if nothing would make him happier than Pete willing to hear him speak.
"I love you, Pete Mitchell. I love you so much."
Pete felt his eyes stinging with tears, but he fought to keep them open.
Tom was confessing his feelings to him. He couldn't cry.
Even if it was all fake.
"Really?"
"Really. I have been in love with you for so long. Ever since I saw you fly for the first time. No, ever since I saw you. I noticed you, Pete, you must have forgotten. But I noticed you in your sorting ceremony in the first grade. You were queuing up for your sorting, and I looked up and our eyes met. I was completely stunned at that moment. All I could think was that I had never seen such beautiful green eyes."
Pete hadn’t forgotten.
During the sorting ceremony, he felt like others were all rumoring about him, so he was a bit lonely and scared. But he stood tall, chin up, putting on a brave look. Then, a blonde boy sitting at the adjacent table looked up, his clear blue eyes earnestly observing him. Somehow, Pete felt more at ease, walked with his head held high to the front chair, sat down, and then walked to the Gryffindor table, where he saw Nick smiling kindly.
"You were sorted into Gryffindor, I was a bit disappointed—though later, after getting to know you, I found out you were indeed not a Ravenclaw—but you made it into the Quidditch team. You know, every time I saw you on the Quidditch pitch, I couldn't help but stare at you. Pete, I just couldn’t focus. You flew like a maniac, but you're always laughing, tilting your head back to let the wind blow through your robes, always risking yourself to help your teammates out of trouble—although, to be honest, most of the trouble was caused by you. I've been secretly watching you all the time, and it's a miracle I haven't been knocked out by a Bludger yet."
It's unbelievable, Pete thought, that Kazansky hadn't noticed him staring back.
Oh. Then he remembered. It's just the Love Potion speaking. How could Tom really love him?
"Do you remember when Nick got injured last year? When I saw you then, I just wanted to reach out and hold you, tightly and never let go, to let you know that everything would be okay, to tell you I'd always be here, whether you wanted me or not."
He wanted. He wanted so fucking badly that it almost hurt.
"Can I..." Kazansky lowered his gaze to Pete's lips, then back to his eyes, "Can I kiss you, Pete? I've wanted to kiss you for so long, and that’s all I could think about sometimes."
Nodding was too easy. He didn't even need to say anything, just tilting his head slightly, and he would be meeting Kazansky's lips, to know if his kiss truly tasted of mint.
Everything he wanted was right in front of him.
The only problem was, it was all fake.
Tom's love was fake, Tom wanting to kiss him was fake, Tom's gentle gaze was fake, everything Tom said was fake, all because of that stupid Love Potion.
He could kiss Tom, but after today, the Love Potion would wear off, and he would return to a life without Tom, the only difference being that now he knew the feeling of the other's lips on his own. But he could never have them again.
This was your life, his inner voice began to mock him, always sabotaging yourself, always fantasizing about things you could never have, ending up with an empty heart trying to grasp ephemeral love.
"I want to kiss you, I love you, Pete, I..."
"Enough."
Pete blinked, ignoring the tear that fell at last.
"Enough, Tom. I'm sorry, but I can't let this go on any longer."
He raised his wand, hesitated for a moment, then raised his left hand to touch Tom's cheek. Tom turned his face into his palm, his gaze shifting to the wand.
"Although you won't remember..." Pete hated the tremble and choke in his own voice, "but I love you, Tom Kazansky."
Tom opened his mouth to say something, but Pete didn't give him the chance.
"Finite Incantatem," he whispered.
Magic flowed from his fingertips, and Pete felt like a part of his soul had gone with it. He closed his eyes and only wanted to return to his room and sleep for three days after Kazansky left.
"...You love me?"
Pete opened his eyes sharply.
Kazansky hadn't left. He was frozen all over, unmoving as if turned into ice (excuse the pun). He looked at Pete, his face transitioning from disbelief to surprise, then ecstatic joy, then to cautious hope.
"You love me?"
What’s wrong? Pete racked his brain, trying to recall the spell he had just cast. It should've worked, thinking of the Love Potion, pointing at the target, casting the spell, it should've broken the charm—though honestly, he spent most of his time in Charms class stealing glances at Kazansky instead of listening to the Professor.
He raised his wand again.
"...Finite Incantatem?"
Kazansky was still there, squinting his eyes at him.
"Alright, it is quite dubious now... Have you been under Imperio, Maverick? That could explain you saying you love me..."
"What? No, I haven't!!"
"He hasn't, I can prove that. It's you."
Pete was startled by Nick's voice. He had completely forgotten his best friend was still in the room. Kazansky took a step back. Pete turned to look, and Nick's face was a mix of awkwardness and amusement.
"I've been under Imperio?"
"No, no. More precisely..." — Pete closed his eyes, preparing for the impending embarrassment and heartbreak — "You've been under Veritaserum."
"What?"
"What??"
"The truth serum, the strongest kind, a precious baby." Nick held up the vial in his hand.
"But weren't we supposed to use Love Potion, Goose? How did it turn into Veritaserum? You clearly told me..."
"Where did you get the Veritaserum? This violates Educational Decree number thirty-five, I should hold you in..."
"...Carole's third aunt's second cousin has connections in Knockturn Alley? Wait, so you're saying this idiot here just..."
"...detention. Wait, Nick, he mentioned Love Potion? You were planning to give me a Love Potion? And this idiot here..."
"...drank Veritaserum? But he clearly said..."
"...did he also drink it? Because he just said..."
"...he loves me."
They said in unison.
Pete felt like all his thoughts had become a tangled mess in his mind. His breathing hadn't calmed down yet, and he could only stare at Nick in front of him, watching him raise his wand and point it at Kazansky, reciting the antidote spell for the truth serum.
Kazansky took in a sharp breath beside him.
"Although I didn't understand most of what was said earlier because you two morons were too loud, I heard the last sentence. Yes, you both said it. Now, I'm leaving this room. Firstly, because that will definitely be the most embarrassing memory of my life, even if I include the time I accidentally rode my broomstick into the Whomping Willow when dating Carole. Secondly, because I have some tasks to report." Nick gestured towards the door, "So… Enjoy yourselves. Don't ever tell me what happens."
"Report?" Kazansky asked, deliberately avoiding looking at Pete.
"Chipper and Sundown posted the meeting notice. Wolf and Wood got the special truth serum, Slider was mainly responsible for letting you know Mav is here."
"You..."
"We couldn't take it anymore, bud. If you two don’t bone each other for one more second, we will all go crazy."
"So Carole wasn't involved after all?"
"Carole's suggestion was to snatch your wands and lock you both in the broom closet, but I thought that was too violent."
Nick winked at them and left the room.
In the silence, Pete felt his heartbeat thundering in his ears. He stood stiffly, his gaze fixed on the ground, feeling like his knees were about to give way any second.
He didn't know how to make sense of what had just happened. Should he pretend nothing happened and flee the room, taking advantage of Kazansky's distraction...
"Maverick."
Well.
The blonde hesitated, reached out a hand, and clasped his wrist. His pulse throbbed against Kazansky's palm, like a kind of declaration.
"Pete, I..."
"Do you really love me?"
"You are asking the floor?"
Pete raised his head, meeting Kazansky's gaze. His eyes had always been sharp, but now that light was soft with his long eyelashes slightly lowered. Like Pete was the most precious treasure in the world and he didn't know how to express how much he loved the person in front of him.
Pete knew this feeling so well.
"Yes, I love you. Maverick. Pete Mitchell."
"You think I can't get into Ravenclaw?"
Kazansky—no, Tom—rolled his eyes, furrowing his brow in feigned anger, but the curve of his lips gave him away.
"After all those heartfelt words I said, that's what you remember?"
Pete shrugged and tiptoed closer until their breaths mingled.
"I just want to make sure you remember what you said."
"Do you remember, then?" Tom tilted his head, brushing Pete's cheek with the tip of his nose.
"Remember what?"
"If you play dumb, I will leave now."
"Don't! Don't," Pete laughed, reaching out to wrap his arms around Tom's neck, "I remember. I love you."
"You didn't drink any love potion?"
"Honestly? Tom, you are my love potion."
Seeing Tom's expression like he had just eaten a whole lemon, Pete grimaced too.
"Sorry, cliché. But..." He pulled Tom closer. "...you like it?"
Pete tried to make it sound like a confident tease, but some insecurity seeped in and it ended with a slightly trembling question mark. Tom probably sensed it, because he reached out to embrace Pete's waist, leaning down to press his lips against Pete.
Pete closed his eyes.
"I love it."
Mint. he thought dimly. Soft, sweet, perfect minty taste that was exclusively his.