Chapter Text
Harry and Ron rushed into Professor Slughorn’s classroom, arriving a bit late and earning disapproving smirks from the Slytherins.
“Ah, Harry, my boy!” Professor Slughorn greeted him eagerly, barely acknowledging Ron. Harry smiled politely but backed away, a familiar smell distracting his senses as he tried to figure out what it was. Slughorn noticed Ron for the first time.
“You must be a Weasley! I do love your father, such a good man,” he said distractedly, turning back towards the class and taking the lid off of a large cauldron. Harry stood near Hermione and Ron as a semicircle of students formed around the cauldron, which was now emitting wafts of red and pink steam. Draco Malfoy strode towards him, a cold grin etched onto his pale face. He took an exaggerated sniff of the air and wrinkled his face in disgust.
“You know, Potter, when I walked in here, I swear I could smell you. I mean, you must stink so bad, probably all the time you’re spending with Granger.”
A few Slytherins behind him chuckled. Ron didn’t hear the comment, or he would’ve come rushing to Hermione’s defense. Harry’s face got hot with anger, but Professor Slughorn had begun to teach the class, so he turned away from Malfoy.
“Now, before I explain what this potion is, would anyone like to make an observation?” asked Slughorn, earning giggles from several girls.
“Potter Stinks!” shouted Malfoy, causing Slughorn to turn around and frown, confused. Despite Malfoy's outburst, he cleared his throat and continued with the lesson.
“Miss Granger, what does it smell like to you?”
Hermione stepped forward cautiously, sniffing the steam that was floating out of the cauldron.
“Well, it smells like freshly mown grass, fresh parchment-” she sniffed again, “-and spearmint…toothpaste…” Hermione trailed off, a dreamy look in her eye. Malfoy crept up behind Harry and whispered in his ear.
“Potter Stinks,” he said, sending shivers down Harry’s spine. He recognized the familiar smell. Harry could place broom polish, mild cologne, and…apple?
The potion smelled like Malfoy. How…strange. Harry noticed Slughorn had finished his questions, and tried to listen intently. He ignored the knot of dread in his stomach, but it grew as Slughorn rambled on.
“This is amortentia, the most powerful love potion in the world,” said Slughorn.
Malfoy glanced at Harry.
“It smells differently to each person according to what attracts them,” Slughorn said slowly, observing his student’s reactions. Malfoy’s eyes widened in horror as they focused on Harry, who was suddenly having trouble breathing. Harry backed slowly away from the cauldron and towards the door. A Slytherin boy looked at Malfoy curiously.
“Hey, Draco, weren’t you saying at the beginning of class-”
“NO!” snapped Malfoy, lunging toward him. The boy whimpered and backed away. Professor Slughorn noticed Harry leaving the room.
“Harry, what are you doing? I still have a lesson to teach—are you feeling quite alright?” he asked, noticing the sudden lack of color in Harry’s complexion. Harry shook his head in disbelief, staring at Malfoy, whose face was beet red, a striking contrast.
Malfoy glanced up. He strode toward Harry, grabbed his arm, and pulled him out of the classroom. Confused whispers broke out behind them, but Harry didn’t turn around, and let Malfoy drag him away.
“We need to talk,” Malfoy growled, gripping Harry’s arm firmly as they hurried through the doorway and into the dim corridor. He shoved Harry against the wall, releasing his grip as he let out a strained sigh. They locked eyes. Malfoy looked away.
“I don’t know why-” Malfoy began.
“Nor do I!” Harry interjected.
“But I didn’t mean-”
“Of course you didn’t,” Harry cut him off again.
They both stared at the ground, aware of everything that hadn’t been said. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't think of anything to say. Malfoy broke the silence as he straightened up and stared at Harry, his expression suddenly cold and rigid once more.
“It never happened.” he said, his voice so low that it was barely audible.
Malfoy turned and walked away, the click of his heels on the stone floor echoing in Harry's ears long after he was out of sight.
Harry leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. The unmistakable smell of apples still lingered in the corridor.