Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Dramione. I only wish I did.
Amortentia - A Dramione Oneshot
The dungeon was filled with an array of potion aromas, none of them quite alike, but not so different. As Hermione entered the room, she saw cauldron after cauldron of simmering brew, spouting fumes in the sunlight. Along the far end of the table, she saw a cauldron half-filled with potion, its steam rising to the ceiling in spirals.
"Hey Granger, first time to see a cauldron?"
Hermione didn't have to turn around to know who had spoken. But she did anyway.
"Funny, Malfoy. I thought a person with a brain like yours couldn't distinguish cauldrons from cooking pots."
She saw Draco's jaw clench. "Are you calling me unintelligent, Mudblood?" he spat at her.
Trying to hide the offense, Hermione smirked. "Well aren't you? You spend majority of your time bullying others, and you let yourself get beaten at everything by a Mudblood."
Students were filing in, and Hermione saw Harry and Ron enter and take a two empty seats. A couple of her fellow Gryffindors came walking past Draco and her.
"If you'll excuse me, Draco. I have better things to do than argue with you."
Quickly, she took the seat beside Harry and Ron, who were both looking sulky. Apparently, none of them wanted to be in the dungeon surrounded by brass and pewter cauldrons and bottles of eels eyes and beetle wings.
"Okay, class." A small, bald, and enormously fat man clad in brown robes emerged from Snape's old private stores. He had a big, round belly that looked like a balloon about to pop, and a white moustache that drooped down, making him look like an old walrus. He was holding a small vial in his hand, and a smile was painted on his crinkly face.
This must be Professor Slughorn, Hermione thought.
"As you can see now," Slughorn said, waddling past the brewing cauldrons. "You are surrounded by potions of different names and uses." He stopped short in front of the last pewter cauldron in the row.
"Malfoy looks a bit surly," Ron suddenly whispered into her ear.
"He's always surly." Hermione didn't even look at both of them. She focused her attention at Slughorn.
"Who can tell me what this potion is?" And with a flourish of his small, stubby hand, Slughorn motioned towards the brew.
Hermione's hand shot up.
"Yes, m'dear."
"That's amortentia, sir," Hermione said confidently.
"Very good, and what about amortentia?"
Hermione's hand flew up again.
Slughorn nodded in her direction.
"It's the most powerful love potion in the world."
"Exactly! And can anyone describe what amortentia can do?"
For the third time, Hermione raised her hand.
"What's your name, dear?" Slughorn asked her.
"Hermione Granger, sir."
"Well, Ms. Granger, can you tell me what amortentia can do?"
"Amortentia can give the drinker a powerful infatuation or obsession. Its effects are instantaneous; once the drinker takes in the potion, the infatuation comes to effect right away. Of course, it cannot create real love - just an infatuation. Amortentia smells different for everybody, reminding the person of the things they find most attractive, or the person they are attracted to, even if they themselves don't acknowledge it."
Slughorn clapped his fat hands together. "Excellent, excellent, Ms. Granger. Couldn't have made it more clearer! Would you take a whiff of the amortentia and tell us what you smell?" He motioned again for the pewter cauldron with spiraling fumes.
"Of course, sir." Hermione walked forwards, bending over the cauldron to get a whiff of the love potion.
"I smell... apples. And... French perfume... and newly-washed robes... and dust, perhaps?" She looked up, a bewildered expression crossing her face. Why had she smelled those? Who would smell like that? The aroma of the potion was... somewhat expensive - something she would associate with extravagant balls or fancy restaurants. Even the dust smelled exorbitant in its own way.
Slughorn chuckled at the look on her face, probably guessing what she was thinking. "You said it yourself, Ms. Granger. The potion reminds the person who smells it of the object of their attraction, even if they themselves don't acknowledge it."
Hermione straightened up and went back to her seat, flushed but still thinking about what just happened.
Draco walked inside the dungeon with a surly expression on his face. He just came back from the Room of Requirement, which was filled with dust at every possible nook and cranny. The vanishing cabinet was there, yes, his suspicions had been right. But how could he repair it?
He tutted as he entered. How can they replace Snape with an old walrus bloke? Snape was the only teacher who recognized his aptitude at Potions.
But then he remembered that Snape would be watching over him more this year. Draco sighed. Yes, it was a good idea to replace him. He wouldn't be able to carry out his plan right if Snape kept his beady eyes on him all the time.
He saw a familiar bushy, brown head looking over the cauldrons in the room. It would be a nice time to bully Granger, he thought. He swaggered closer to her and put on the famous Malfoy smirk.
"First time to see a cauldron, Granger?"
She turned around, a look of anticipation on her face. Ah, she was expecting me, he thought.
"Funny, Malfoy," she retorted. "I thought a person with a brain like yours couldn't distinguish cauldrons from cooking pots."
Draco's jaw clenched. It was one thing to make fun of his parents (understandable), or his physical appearance (although he couldn't see why anyone would do that - he was handsome, for crying out loud), but to call him stupid was something else altogether.
"Are you calling me unintelligent, Mudblood?" He spat the word at her, knowing that it would offend her. He smiled when he saw her flinch.
"Well aren't you? You spend majority of your time bullying others, and you let yourself get beaten at everything by a Mudblood." Only because you dream of marrying a textbook one day, whilst I have better plans with my life, Draco thought.
A lot of students were coming inside; a couple of Gryffindors began snaking around them to sit on their side of the room. Draco scowled.
"If you'll excuse me, Draco. I have better things to do than argue with you." Hermione left to sit with the two buffoons she called friends with a triumphant smile on her face.
This isn't over, Mudblood, he thought, making his way back to the Slytherins on the other half of the dungeon.
But as he passed by the last brewing cauldron, he stopped in his tracks. What was that smell?
The aroma from the potion was overpowering. It smelled like... orange blossoms... lavender? He couldn't tell which was which, but he was sure he could smell both of them in there. And there was something else. He could smell the pages of an old book, and cat hairs.
What was that potion? He walked closer to it and looked below the cauldron, to see if there was a tag or indicator of the potion's name. But just as he was about to stoop down, he saw Slughorn walking back from the private storage room. He scowled. That walrus man had befouled Snape's private stores - it didn't matter that he was there even before Snape was. Reluctantly, he walked back to an empty seat at the far back, avoiding the seat Pansy had saved for him.
He looked sideways and scowled, seeing that he had seated beside the Golden Twits; it was only the aisle in the middle separating them. Weasel was whispering something in Granger's ear, looking in his direction.
He gritted his teeth. Why was he leaning that close to a woman? Was that considered a rule of etiquette nowadays? And why was he looking at him? He felt his hands ball into fists.
Granger seemed not to mind whatever he said, and with this Draco's fists unclenched. He managed to smirk at the thought of Weasel being disregarded by a bushy squirrel.
Argh, he thought. I shouldn't care about them!
But wait.
Why was Draco suddenly caring about the what Granger did or what Weasel did to her?
Draco shook his head. No, it was only because you just had a fight with her. Yes, that was it.
Author's Note: Please review afterwards! I want to know what you think of this story.