He was almost late for potions. Too bad that apparition within Hogwarts was not possible. He wasn't old enough for apparition anyway, but when had he ever cared if he was old enough for anything? He was already one of the most powerful wizards in this school, having surpassed some of the teachers. And yet, he was running like a common muggle to reach his potions class in time.
Panting, Tom arrived at the Dungeons. Professor Slughorn was already there, but the lesson had not started yet. There were four large tables in the classroom, a cauldron of potion on each of them.
Tom sat down, sharing a table with Walburga and Abraxas.
"Is everyone here now?" Slughorn asked.
"No, Algie Longbottom, that idiot, almost got his arm ripped off by a Thestral," Avery announced and his fellow Slytherins snickered.
Yes, it had been amusing to watch Longbottom in panic as he got attacked by the beast invisible to him. Tom of course had been able to see it. And he didn't even associate any unpleasant memory with it, quite the contrary.
Tom examined the potion in front of him. The liquid was of a shimmering pearly colour and fumes were rising from the bubbling cauldron.
After scolding Avery for his remark about Longbottom, Slughorn started his lesson, asking them to identify the potions in front of them.
"Polyjuice-potion-allows-the-drinker-to-assume-the-body-of-a-different-person-for-one-hour." Emilia Wood of Ravenclaw answered rapidly.
"Very good, ten points to Ravenclaw."
Tom turned his attention to the potion in front of him again. To his annoyance, he was unable to identify it. The lack of smell would indicate Veritaserum, but the colour didn't match.
"Mr Riddle, could you tell me how the potion in front of you smells?" Slughorn asked.
"Professor, that's a trick question, because it has no scent at all," he said, confident that he had answered correctly.
Walburga and Abraxas were clearly not paying attention to the class. Especially Walburga's behaviour was odd. The scowl she was usually wearing had been replaced by a blissful and absent-minded smile, as if she was under a badly executed Imperius curse.
Slughorn meanwhile appeared very confused by Tom's answer.
"No scent at all, you say? Move a bit closer to the cauldron, maybe you can tell me now."
He moved closer to the cauldron, trying to catch a smell, but there was none. Not the faintest scent.
"I'm sorry, Professor," he replied. "But I can't smell anything."
Scratching his balding head, Slughorn remained quiet for a few seconds.
"Oh well, Mr Malfoy then. What do you smell?"
"That's a very personal question, isn't it?" Abraxas said. "For the potion in this cauldron is Amortentia, the most powerful known love potion. It smells different for everyone, depending on what and whom they love."
"Very well explained, Mr Malfoy," Slughorn replied. "Have twenty points for Slytherin. And Tom, if you've got a stuffy nose, you'd better get a pepperup potion from the hospital wing. After all, you surely don't want to be sick at our little party tomorrow evening."
Tom's nose was completely fine of course. But after what Abraxas had said, he thought it would be better not to say anything against the excuse Slughorn had so conveniently provided.
That evening, Tom thought long about what this meant. Did the potion just not work on him? Or was there truly nothing he loved? True, he had never given much attention to that feeling, but the incident in potions class had sparked his curiosity.
At night, as he lay in his bed in the Slytherin dormitory, the realization suddenly struck him. Of course he had perceived no scent, because the potion had smelt exactly like its surroundings.
For the only thing he truly loved was Hogwarts itself; his home.
