A/N This is for PrimroseAmelia's Amortentia challenge of at HPFC. Hope you all enjoy it because I had a good tome writing. (Amortentia challenge: #36 Ron Weasley)
Sausages, Stones, and Socks
Ron stood back from the Amortentia potion that Professor Slughorn stirred gently. He, honestly, didn't want to get a whiff of the concoction. Especially after seeing the ogled looks on all the girls faces, even Hermione's. He leaned over Harry's shoulder to see the shimmering surface that held swirls of glinting purples and pinks. The steam, he noticed, rose in curling columns and heart-shaped puffs. It was almost too sickly sweet looking.
But then it hit him. A curve of steam snaked its way over the girls crowded at the front of the class, over the heads of all the boys, passed Harry's ear and entangled itself in Ron's nose. The smell of it was absolutely enticing and seemed to consume the entirety of Ron's head. Entwining in his hair, rippling down his throat, and fizzing in his ears. It was nothing like anything he had experienced before. He could smell three very distinct, separate things that flourished together to become a whole. Where one fragrance wasn't quite distinguishable from the next.
His head began to spin with the savory smell of simmering breakfast sausages. His mouth began to water to the point where Harry's shoulder was in imminent danger of becoming sopping.
"Ronald Bilius Weasley!" Molly Weasley hissed to her little flame headed boy that had made his way up on top of the kitchen counter. "Get down now!"
Ron's clear blue eyes began to collect tears at their corners. Molly shifted a sleeping Ginny to free up her right arm.
"Oh sweetheart, there's no need to cry and wake your sister," Molly's voice was almost in a panic. Almost. She had been doing this for many years. Granted little girls where much harder to get to sleep than little boys, Molly had had plenty of practice with boys. She grabbed a piece of breakfast sausage from her plate and popped it in between Ron's quivering lips.
In an instant the tears disappeared and where replaced with a glimmer of pure joy. Ron swallowed and opened his mouth in Molly's direction revealing four little, square teeth - two on top and two on bottom. His fingers waggled, begging for more.
The gristle smell of sausage faded. Harry looked up over his shoulder at Ron with a silly expression on his face. An expression that Ron was sure was on his as well. Then the cold, dry smell of stone dust filled Ron's nose.
"Ha! Beat you as well Charlie!" Percy proclaimed as he swept the remnant of Charlie's king off the chess board. "Who's next? Bill?"
Bill was standing in the far corner of the room next to the Christmas tree. He was only there to observe just how good his little brother was at chess. Percy had defeated Fred, George, his father, and Charlie, the best chess player in the family, within the hour. He had even played nine year old Ginny. Bill grimaced as he sneaked back into the kitchen to help his mother with the pies.
"What's wrong Bill? Afraid your little brother is going to beat you?"
"I want to try," Ron said from the stairwell.
"You? Want to play? Ron you can't even focus on finishing a game of exploding snap. You could never have the patience let alone the skill to play wizards chess!"
Ron payed no attention to Percy's heckling as he sat across the coffee table from him. After moments of staring him down, Percy assembled the lines of pieces in front of Ron. With every move Ron made Percy just couldn't seem to get ahead. By this time all of the Weasleys, save Molly, had gathered around in a tight huddle. And finally...
"Check mate," Ron said with a silly grin on his face. His queen took up its little stone sword and swung to kill Percy's king. A puff of stone dust rose from the board. Ron inhaled deeply and savored the smell. It was the smell of victory.
The smell of chess pieces dissipated rapidly and Ron was flooded with the strongest of the scents. One he would never have thought of if asked his favorite things. The smell of perfumed wool enveloped him. "
Ron hand me that basket will you?" Hermione gestured to the basket full of woolen yarn and half knitted socks that had been placed under the chair he was sitting in.
"Merlin Hermione, how many feet do you have?" Ron snorted as he fished the knitting from under his seat.
"They're for the house elves!" Ron, annoyed by Hermione's know-it-all tone, shoved the basket in her direction causing its contents to spill all over the common room floor. A wave of perfumed woolens floated up as the socks and balls of yarn tumbled to the floor.
"Ron! Why do you have to be so...so," Hermione couldn't think of what to call him this time. As she bent over to clean up the mess Ron could see her face beginning to turn a terrifyingly beet red shade. As to not upset her anymore than he already had that day he crouched from his seat to help. After all he had planned to ask for her help with his charms essay.