The Scent of Love

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters within the stories.

Summary: After a late night of Weasley pranking, Ginny finds herself locked in a closet with a yummy smelling young man. His mysterious identity fascinates her, as does his clever mind and nimble hands. Can she find true love sight unseen, identity unknown?

Authors Note: I'm sorry for those of you who hate fics that aren't cannon. This story tickled my imagination (and my funny bone). I had to run with it. Also, I don't know if Dissimulo is the disillusionment charm. I do know, however, that this is a close Latin equivalent for the word and so I'll stick with it until proven incorrect. Thank you.

Chapter One

"Oh, this is going to be splendid! Glorious! Filch shall-"

"Nick! For the last time, shut up!" The ghost wilted under her best glare and shame suffused his face.

"I do apologize, my lady, truly. I suppose my joy of being included is-"

"Shhhhh! I let you come 'cause I needed a lookout. Don't make me regret that." She didn't even wait for his nod before returning to her nefarious work.

It had come to her in a flash of brilliance that the great hall needed a woman's touch. Many women. There were painted floozies, silk-clad harem girls, leather bound slave girls, and all sorts of other women of few clothes and fewer inhibitions. Each lounged on large silk cushions, twittering together or just looking bored and sexy. Decorated in a nouveau bordello-industrial chic, there was red velvet and chains all over the hall. She was just transfiguring the last butter knife into an obscene phallic shape when Nearly Headless Nick came up behind her and whistled.

"I say, my lady, this is a splendid sight indeed!" Color was high on his transparent cheeks as his eyes roved over the lovely women. "Brings to mind some of my travels before…well, before the unpleasantness of my beheading."

"I know," she replied with a wicked smile, rubbing her hands together in anticipation. "I can't wait 'till that prudish bastard sees this at breakfast."

Ginny was practically skipping on her way back to the common room. She'd split with Nick outside the great hall and was now alone, sweet thoughts of revenge flittering around in her head. Ron was going to flip; perfect! This would teach her self-righteous brother not to interfere in her life. Or ruin promising relationships just because he was a repressed prat!

Despite its…intimate nature, the doctored photo was an interesting gift. She'd never known you could alter magic pictures like that. One second she's looking at herself smiling (and fully clothed) waving from a sepia photo while lounging on a bed, the next she's still waving and still smiling but without a stitch of clothing. It was hilarious if a bit embarrassing. Unfortunately, Ron hadn't seen it that way; he proceeded to beat Collin to a pulp. Poor lad hadn't shown much interest in anything since, much less a romance with her. Her brother had put him in the hospital wing, after all.

I have to be in the hall before he-. SLAP, SLAP. SLAP, SLAP. She stopped mid-thought, freezing and barely daring to breath. Someone was coming up from behind her and fast. Shit, they've already found it, she thought frantically before breaking out into a run. She tried to keep her steps quiet with a muffling spell, but if the person following her had found the hall already then they knew a student was out after curfew. The sound was coming closer and panic started licking at her heels. Linked up with a prank like that, she'd be expelled for sure. Her eyes searched for a place to hide, seeing nothing but an uninterrupted expanse of stone. She was getting desperate until…There! Salvation was in sight, a door at the end of a long empty hall.

Now, if I can only make it before-No no no no! Suddenly, everything was dark, freezing dark, and she was running blind. She suppressed a fearful squeak at this turn of events and barely avoided a collision. Jerking the door open, she hurried inside the closet, careful not to slam the door in her haste. That can't be Filch, she thought, trying to calm her racing heart and jittering hands, he's a squib. And those lights were definitely put out with magic. Who's chasing me with magic, all for a crude prank? A cold that had come with the darkness intensified as the footsteps came closer, faster, sounding like more than before. It seemed they were following her down the hall and her control over the fear began slipping. Darkness seemed to be closing in, suffocating her in its black velvet folds. Covering her mouth to muffle fearful whimpers she couldn't suppress, she burrowed farther back into the heaps of rags and riffraff.

She felt, rather than heard, when the door opened. A slight ripple in the air told her someone had invaded her dubious sanctuary. She groped for her wand and cursed fluently in her head as it failed to appear to her questing fingers.

"Dissimulo." His voice was soft as it whispered the disillusionment charm; she could tell from the tone that he must be a fellow student. His heavy breathing held her entranced and she didn't realize until too late that he was backing farther into the closet just as she had. He fell onto her silently while a squeak escaped her lips. "Shhhhh," he hissed, rolling on top of her and clapping a hand over her mouth. They both shivered with cold and fear for what seemed like hours, despite the warmth of their bodies pressed together. She could hear their pursuers outside the hidden closet, silent but for their footsteps.

His breaths were like a wave, rushing forward to warm the exposed half of her face and pulling back to leave it all the colder for that absence. Finally, he removed his hand and she almost cried out again from the pain of the temperature change.

"W-what is it," she asked, fear growing along with the intensifying cold. "Who are they?"

"Dementors," he bit out in a viscous whisper. "Do you have any chocolate?" She shook her head vigorously, forgetting the dark for a moment as her mind raced.

"No...Dementors? In Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

"But why…how?"

"Never you mind. Damn it, that spell was useless, they'll sense our reactions to their aura. It's just a matter of those with them finding the door." They laid in the darkness contemplating what would happen after that when something occurred to her.

"Serotonin," Ginny asked. "That brain chemical muggles discovered. It's supposed to make you happy."

"Yes, that's what the chocolate's for! Just like…"

"But how do we-" They'd spoken together but suddenly, she found herself cut off mid-sentence by a very insistent mouth. She managed to push his face from hers, but not before noticing a rather pleasant scent emanating from his person. "What are you doing," she demanded, a blush riding high on her cheeks.

"Explanations later, now shut up," and with that a total stranger proceeded to kiss the daylights out of her. After a moment, she noticed that scent once more. A warm spicy smell that reminded her of Christmas; very pleasing, really. After a few moments, she also realized what he was at. Amorous contact raised serotonin as well…and a hell of a lot quicker than even the best chocolate. Well, that may have been his original intentions, but he was a teenage boy. Even with her limited experience, Ginny could tell he wasn't in this just for the lifesaving mood boost any longer. Not that she was one to point fingers; she was having quite a bit of fun herself. Hell, if they were going to have their souls sucked out but those slimy, creepy…things, the least the world could give them was a last few moments of fun.

Just as she was finally relaxing, really getting into the situation, he pulled away slightly. "I-I think their gone," he stated shakily. His breathlessness gave a warm tingle to her womanly pride. Silently, they lay there, listening for any sounds that would give their pursuers away. After a few moments he began fidgeting, moving this way and that, trying to find a place to settle; he did seem to be a bit…uncomfortable. "Um…sorry 'bout that. I was just-"

"Yeah, I figured it out for myself. Why else would you still be conscious?"

"Ha…um, yeah" he said nervously, finally finding a comfortable position. He lay along her side, both a leg and an arm thrown across her body, his head resting on the same pile of cleaning rags as hers. "So why were you out after curfew?"

"Why were you?"

"Ah…hmm, okay, so we won't go into that."

"Why were dementors chasing you?"

"Or that, I'm afraid."

"Okay, how about your name?" She could feel the shake of his head that let her know that subject was also taboo.

"You can't even tell me your name? Why not?"

"It's complicated…I just can't allow you to know who I am."

Allow? Who does he think he is to "allow" anything, she thought furiously. "Fine, then. I guess I'll be going if you're refusing to talk about anything. I don't see wh-"

"No," he said sharply, holding on tighter to keep her in place. "We should stay here awhile. Just to make sure they really are gone." She couldn't see his face, but his tone let her know he was serious and not trying to keep her here for dubious reasons. She decided not to bite the hell out of him and relaxed instead.

"Are you just going to ignore me until you deem it safe to leave?"

"No," he said softly, and so commenced a lengthy conversation about nothing. While they were speaking, his hand began playing with the sleeve of her robe. It traveled from her sleeve to her waist, continuing the gentle tickle as the conversation, and avoidances, progressed. They could not discuss why they were out of bed or any other identifiable information. Allowed topics were which school subjects were their favorites, careers they may want after Hogwarts, how many canary crèmes incidents can occur before fingers start pointing your way.

"You did not," Ginny exclaimed.

"I did, I swear; my mother forced me to wear the most hideous set of dress robes you could imagine. Said they were all the rage. Bright yellow with frilly lace decorations; I looked like a giant bird. Well, I decided that if I had to look that way, so did everyone else. The engagement ended shortly after it began with her odious guests bursting out with bright yellow feathers. I'd drop canary crèmes into the soup tureens. Poor house elves were in an absolute tizzy, I can tell you. Squeaking out condolences and trying to pluck their masters…" They giggled together for a few seconds then slowly caught their breath. "Her punishment was to forbid me from ever attending one of her dinner parties again."

"I'm sure you were devastated."

"Yes, yes. I've made do, of course. Stiff upper lip and all." A new round of giggles ensued and the two snuggled closer as they ended. His nuzzled his nose close to her ear and asked, "Did you know you smell like vanilla? With a little bit of lemon." The sudden break in witty banter threw her off. She'd never had experience with a boy commenting on how she smelled. Well, except her brothers after a quidditch match.

"Um, thank you? It's just my soap. Mum makes it in batches for the whole family and gives different fragrances for the different people. Why, is it bothering you?"

"No, not at all; I quite enjoy it. If I have to be stuck in a closet with someone, at least they smell good. Sorry to mention it, I have issues with blurting every little thought that crosses my mind. Gets me in more trouble than I can say."

"I would think so…" After a short uncomfortable pause, they continued to discuss silly little nothings. Eventually, the pauses became longer, their words slower, until finally, they fell asleep on the heap of rags, wrapped up in each other's arms.

2nd Authors Note: Well, that's the first chapter. I was wondering if any of you wanna guess who Ginny's mysterious young man is. Any takers? All comments will be appreciated.