Smells wafted up towards Ron's outstretched nose as he passed the table of lined-up potions. The love potion's tantalizing scent drew him in. He could smell food; his mother's Yorkshire puddings in particular. Ron could also detect holiday traditions- candy canes and such. Shrugging, he went to keep walking before he smelled it.
Vanilla, with a faint hint of parchment.
Glancing around for Hermione, his ears turned furiously red as he spotted the cauldron.
Oh, Merlin's pants. I smelled my best mate in a love potion!
But you didn't smell Harry, now did you? Another part of his brain questioned, almost jokingly. Curious, right?
No, I'm not- I can't- we're mates? Right?
Riggghhht. Unsure of himself, he glanced at Hermione. Her eyes were lit up and there was a smile on her face. She turned towards him and her smile widened. His throat felt dry as his heat skipped a beat. Smiling weakly back, Ron did his best to ignore his flushed cheeks (not to mention ears).
I'm in love with my best mate! What now?
"Are you okay?" Hermione asked later that day.
"Yeah, yeah." Ron dismissed the jolt in his stomach at her concern. Not paying attention to his words, he told her, "You smell good." Once his words hit him, he turned away, his face turning crimson as Hermione's cheeks went a lovely shade of pink.
"Th- thank you. Are you sure you're alright?" She asked quizzically, looking up at him and gently touching his shoulder.
"Yeah," His throat seemed to have gone dry again at her touch as his voice cracked slightly, "I'm fine."
Hermione let out a laugh at the crack in his voice and said, "Let's not miss dinner, I heard there's Yorkshire puddings. I love those. My mum only makes them for holidays, so…"
He watched as she rambled on all the way down to the hall, and wondered if it was physically possible for any girl to be more perfect for him.