So, these are random drabbles, parts of their relationship. They probably won't be in order, just to let you know.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.


If Hermione was asked what her bed back home smelt like, she'd say ... fabric softener that her mom's used as long as she can remember. She'd say it smells like fruity shampoo and parchment. It smells like the vanilla lotion she used to rub into her hands every night before bed. Sometimes it smelled like coffee, when her parents allowed her to have son. Or popcorn, from her late-night movie sessions.

If she was asked what her bed here smelled like, she'd say, potions sometimes. She slept on the spare cot, and shared a room with Merlin. It was cramped and a little awkward sometimes, but it worked, and both seemed content with the arrangement. It would probably smell like whatever she'd helped cook for dinner, or the flour that inevitably got caught in her hair.

But here, sitting on the very edge of Arthur's bed (nervous another servant – or worse, Merlin, or worse – Morgana, or even worse- Uther!) would catch her in the somewhat inappropriate spot. Merlin was still 'ill' so she was filling in. So here she sat, on Arthur's bed and she couldn't place what it smelled like. It smelled like... a normal bed really. It smelled clean, like all laundry in the castle, with just the smallest hint of sweat. He was watching her as she thought, not saying anything. Blue eyes drinking her in. She smiled a little at him.

"What on earth are you doing?" he asks when her nose twitches. She pauses in her nasal investigation enough to blush.

"Nothing," She says a little too quickly. When Arthur's eyebrows rise, she flushes again. Finally, she manages to stumble out the words. "I was... um, I was thinking ... about what your, erm ... What your bed ... smelled like."

Arthur smiles a little at this odd statement, but finds her ever more adorable. "And what exactly, if I may ask, does it smell like?"

She considers this for a moment. "I'm not really sure; it smells a little like ... dirt. Or maybe grass. But mostly, it doesn't smell like anything."

Arthur blinks. "I see," There's an awkward pause, because neither are quite sure what to say. "Is that a bad thing?" He asks finally, leaning on his elbows.

She shakes her head, brown curls flying around her face. "No! Just odd. Everyone's bed should smell like something."

She smiles suddenly, and reaches into the pocket of her apron. In it is a small oddly shaped bottle, with some sort of nozzle on it. She smiles fondly as she looks down. When she was sent here, it was lucky she had her bag on her. The small bottle of peppermint perfume had been from Ginny, who'd given it to her last Christmas. She keeps it with her, and sprays it on her wrist whenever she gets homesick. It was enchanted never to run out, so she could use as much as she pleased.

She turns, in a sudden move of confidence and Arthur watches her, unsure of her intentions as she leans across his large bed. With three quick spurts, she sprays in a diamond shaped motion. A spritz for the left side of the bed, a spritz for the right side, one for the foot of the bed, and one for the top.

After the deed is done, and she looks at Arthur who is staring at her with a baffled expression, what she had just done suddenly hit her like a brick wall. She'd be less embarrassed if she'd sprayed the sheets, so the perfume would be washed off in a couple days anyways. She'd actually stripped the sheets – just like Merlin told her too – when Arthur had stubbornly laid eagle spread in the middle of his bed, refusing to let her continue, unless she stayed a moment and talked. Thus why she had been on his bed in the first place.

She'd sprayed the bare pillows.

The actual mattress.

The scent of peppermint would linger until use finally wore it out. She flushed a tomato red, and without saying goodbye, or uttering an excuse, she rushed out of the room. Arthur was so bewildered; he dropped down from his elbows, flat on his back. As soon as he did that, a burst of peppermint rushed up to greet him.

And though he'd deny it if asked - he spent a good fifteen minutes repeating the actions until he was pretty sure he was drunk with the scent of peppermint.

The scent of Hermione, he reminded himself.


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