The start of seventh year at Hogwarts wasn't on such a positive note. Especially not when Harry started out with a lesson of double Potions with Snape and the rest of the . He could have hoped for more, but after the dreadful summer he'd had at the Dursley's, Harry was grateful being back at his true home. Even though Snape had already taken ten points from Gryffindor, five from Harry and five from Neville, it was home. Not that anyone, not even the Slytherins, were surprised at such an abrupt start, and definitely not the people who'd gotten the onslaught. Harry had gotten used to Snape's unending and undeserved hate, but that didn't mean he didn't mind it; he did indeed find it very offending but reluctant to complain about it, because of the repercussions it would bring.
Snape had started out by giving them a quick test, not that his expectations were high, but he'd wanted to see how much the summer holidays had "decayed the lesser students' brain cells". He didn't have to cough; Harry already knew his name was implied during that speech. And if Harry did indeed get a few answers correct, Snape would blame it on luck.
Now, however, Snape was bringing out a cauldron. Steam was rising from it in spirals, which enchanted the entire class as their eyes followed the sight. From what Harry could see, the potion was slightly pink with a sheen of mother-of-pearl. Harry actually thought the potion was beautiful, or at least very appealing.
Malfoy, who was sitting in the aisle, leaned towards the cauldron as Snape stalked by. He balked at the smell, wrinkling his nose and quickly sat back with a contemplative look. Snape carefully placed the cauldron on his table and looked out at his students.
"Miss Granger, if you would?" Snape ordered and gestured for Hermione to take place next to him. With the typical eagerness that Hermione displayed, she slithered up to the table and looked expectantly at the potion. A smile spread on Harry's face when he regarded Hermione's enthusiasm. She was so different from many of the other students at Hogwarts, including himself, who always seemed to complain about the amount of homework and self-studying the classes and teachers required. But he was proud that Hermione was his friend, and also grateful for the excessive help she had already given and would give him this following year. Across the room Harry heard Malfoy whisper some offending joke about Hermione, and he sent Malfoy a chiding gaze, but of course the git didn't react to that.
"As I believe you are the only one in the class who has already read this year's book, which is rather disappointing," Snape sent a withering gaze across the class," you may explain what this potion is. Particularly why the smell is notable." Snape's' ominous voice stopped as he took a step back. It was rather odd that he let a student do this, rather than just explain it himself. Or so Harry thought. Perhaps it was a new teaching method. Maybe Snape even fancied Hermione. Nearly snorting out loud, Harry tried to hold in the snort, resulting in choking himself. Snape sent him a baleful look, but returned his attention to the bushy haired girl.
Hermione leaned over the cauldron and carefully sniffed it. Her eyebrows shot up and she looked over the class. "Well, the mother-of-pearl sheen is very common for this potion when it is brewed correctly, as is the spiral steam. It's to make the potion more inviting. However, the smell is particular. As this is-"
"The potion stinks like Potter," Malfoy interrupted. "What do you do, bathe in this potion everyday, trying to be more appealing? I'll tell you, Potter, it's not working." He sent a condescending and smug smile at Harry, while Pansy nearly shrieked in laughter and Goyle guffawed next to him.
Both Hermione and Snape snorted at the same time, and then looked at each other in surprise, even sharing a shocked smile. "Please proceed, Miss Granger, in your explanation," the professor said, quickly rearranging his features and shot a silencing look at Malfoy.
"Well, as I said, the particular smell, or smells, is also common for this potion, as it is Amortentia, the love potion. The smell usually takes form of what the individual is attracted to. For instance, I smell freshly mown grass, new parchment, there's also a scent of spearmint toothpaste... And, uh, Ron's hair..." At the last words, Hermione blushed furiously, but no one were noticing, because they were staring at a horribly pale Malfoy, who was almost choking where he was sitting in his seat. He suddenly leapt up and ran out of the classroom, leaving all his belongings behind.
Harry sat back in his seat, strange emotions unfurling in his stomach. Apparently Malfoy was finding Harry appealing. Draco Malfoy. Actually, Malfoy found Harry so attractive that a love potion, a love potion, was influenced by his affections. But for how long had this been going on? Had it been long, or had his affections developed recently? Harry thought that they must have been going on for some time, otherwise Malfoy wouldn't have smelled Harry in the potion. There was something that stomped Harry then: if Malfoy was in love, in love, with Harry, then why was he such a prick? Why did he continuously mock and taunt, when what he possibly wanted to do... was in a whole other league.
The rest of the class had apparently continued, and while Harry was merged in sacred thoughts, Hermione carefully watched him. Perhaps Harry would realise his somewhat irrational, but very intense emotions towards Malfoy. He was only riled because Malfoy riled him, but if the emotions were focused otherwise, Hermione was sure he could develop feelings towards Malfoy. They both were rather intense about each other, and often focused on nothing but each other, so why couldn't there be something between them? She was determined to make Harry realise that as well, even though Malfoy was a prick. Yet, when he fought with Malfoy, Harry showed more emotion than he'd done since Sirius had died. And Hermione cared about his happiness, because that was one thing Harry most certainly deserved.
As Harry left the classroom, a sweet, indistinguishable scent followed him. It was familiar, yet he couldn't, or well... wouldn't, place it.
Roaming the empty halls, Harry had finally shaken off both Ron and Hermione. When Ron heard what had happened, he laughed with a roar, almost silencing the Great Hall. Several Slytherins sent killing looks towards their table, but Ron and then Dean along with Seamus started laughing. Harry had to leave not long after; he simply couldn't stand their joy, even though he could understand it. It was a little funny that Malfoy had made such a scene in Potions. But Harry had to deal with an epiphany himself. Maybe his irate feelings towards Malfoy were actually focused wrongly. Maybe he was focusing them with hate rather than realise that he actually found he liked Malfoy too. It was disconcerting, to say the least, when he'd disliked the boy since their first meeting.
Suddenly he was stopped in his thoughts, as he heard a groan resounding in the suddenly not so empty hall. Malfoy had just turned around the corner and he looked straight at Harry. Then he turned around and tried to hurry back around the corner as though he hadn't been seen.
"Malfoy!" Harry shouted. "Wait!" Running after Malfoy, he desperately thought of what to say. How would he confront him? Harry was already rather awkward, and he would probably only become more than awkward braving this situation.
As he reached Malfoy, who was still turned away from Harry, he placed a hand on the tall boy's shoulder. It certainly stopped Malfoy, who took a deep breath before turning to face Harry. His face was filled with vulnerability, but quiet determination. Whatever Harry was going to say Malfoy was going to take it in stride.
For a moment Harry was surprised at this mature Malfoy and it hit him hard, so he thought," why the hell not?". Then Harry's lips were on Malfoy's. Shocked at himself, he broke the kiss off, just before either of them got too into it.
"Well, Potter, that was certainly eloquent," Malfoy commented, a sly smile spreading over the now wet and red lips.
"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry growled and leapt for Malfoy's lips again.
