TWENTYEIGHT

"Smell it."

Eve took Douglas's command with hesitation. She eyed the steaming cauldron on the desk in front of them, glancing again over to Douglas to meet his expectant stare. She realized now that she probably should have overseen the measuring of ingredients.

Eve kept a cautious distance as she leaned from her stool and took a short sniff from the cauldron. Nothing. She leaned closer, watching a single bubble rise to the surface of the mysterious dark brew, and took another sniff. Nothing.

"Oh, we've screwed up all right," Eve sighed, settling back down on her stool and turning away from the disaster of a Potions assignment.

"If it's any consolation, I've already counted like four groups that look just as confused as us," Douglas replied, glancing ahead of their table to where Professor Snape stood over the desk of two red-faced Gryffindors desperately trying to stir the contents of their cauldron under their teacher's unimpressed stare.

"Well, Amortentia is meant to be a pretty advanced brew to make," Douglas shrugged.

"And here I was thinking we were in Advanced Potions," Eve grinned, earning an eye roll from him.

"Maybe it's meant to be a sign that love-making is not our forte," Douglas sighed, turning in his seat to glance back at the desk behind them, "Shall we ask advice from the experts?"

Eve followed Douglas's lead to turn behind her to where Lucie and Matthew sat; the couple leaned forward in their seats over their own stewing cauldron. Eve immediately noticed the rapid bubbling popping to the surface.

"Oh, don't tell me you two got it already," Douglas said, watching as Lucie stirred the cauldron with a graceful hand.

"Matthew is superb at potions," Lucie replied, her eyes not leaving the brew, although Matthew grinned at her words from beside her.

Eve grimaced at the way superb sounded from her lips.

"You two smell each other, then?" Douglas asked expectantly, his question causing the pair to look up from their work finally. They each held their identical sheepish looks to Douglas.

When the couple made no motions of admitting their interests of love to Douglas and Eve, Douglas pushed himself up from his stool and made his way over to their desk.

Eve watched from her seat as Douglas stuck his nose between the lovebirds' faces, Lucie and Matthew moving back into their chairs and garnering equal frowns as the aromas from the potion seemingly dissipated from effect. But as their faces fell, Douglas's grew to a slight grin, as if a sort of comfortable daze washed over him.

"Well?" Lucie asked, observing Douglas's expression with impatient anticipation. When he did not attempt to answer, Lucie reached between him and the cauldron and snapped her finger.

Douglas pulled his face back from the fumes, with such tangible force one would think he had been under the restraint of a spell all along. His grin fell, and he shook his head slightly, his natural senses seemingly taking hold of him once again.

"Cinnamon…" Douglas said, a furrowed stare on his face as if he was choosing his words with particular attention as if worried of revealing too much, "Fresh grass… and campfire."

"Campfire? Very manly," Lucie replied, shrugging and reaching to give her potion another stir.

Eve's eyes remained on Douglas's intense expression, and she wondered if perhaps he had more to say. Amortentia did formulate into the smells of each takers' unique attractions, even as potent and specific as the scent of a person of fancy. It was a strange manipulation of love and magic, but that was all it really was; a simple manipulation of something real and true. Eve understood now that Douglas's expression was that of pain.

"Your turn, Eve."

Eve's stare turned from Douglas to Matthew, who sent her an awaiting nod at the brew between them. Eve hesitated for a moment, immediately feeling self-conscious under the eyes of her curious friends. She leaned a bit closer, able to watch now the bubbles frantically come to the surface before popping into the dreamy white smoke. Eve took a whiff, small and too distant to engulf, but still able to catch something that sent a wave of definite comfort over her. She leaned closer.

The pleasure grew ten folds as Eve let the fumes submerge her face. Immediately, she began to connect the smells to her memories, and a smile began to grow on in her expression, although she had no awareness of it on her face presently.

Jasmine was the first thing she could place. The flower scent was Eve's favorite, and she thought of the flower hanging in her back garden in Brighton. And then a second familiar scent hit her, another belonging to her childhood, the salty air of the sea. The sea air then morphed into something warmer, darker in quality and comfort. Eve thought of a cedar wood candle her mother always burned.

"Well?"

Douglas's voice came from behind her, but Eve did not turn immediately. There were still other scents she could feel coming to her, but they weren't as prominent in nature. Perhaps far-off memories or locked away dreams and desires. It was all too much to give an answer to at that instant. She smelt the flowers again.

"Jasmine," Eve started, a slight grin settling on her face afresh as she thought of her parents standing in their garden waving her goodbye, "Sea air and cedarwood."

"Sounds like you," Douglas replied flatly.

"There are other things too. I can't quite place," Eve said, taking another attempt at the fumes, and although the distant hug of comfort enveloped her, she still couldn't catch the other notes.

"That's normal. The potion will naturally develop scents you aren't even aware you have a likeness for. I smelled apples for some reason," Lucie said with a shrug.

"Apples are my favorite fruit. I have one every morning," Matthew noted, glancing at Lucie with a sheepish grin.

"Oh, that's right," Lucie said, her cheeks turning noticeably red even under the dark haze of the Potions classroom.

The sickly romance was enough to cast Eve out of her spell, and she straightened back up on her stool and turned to Douglas, who met her expression with a deep eye roll. The duo turned back towards their desk, where their pathetic attempt at manipulated love awaited them.

"Well, now that it has been confirmed that we did, in fact, screw this up, suppose we should dump it?" Douglas said, raising his chin slightly to glance at the mouth of the cauldron. There was no sign of life now within in, no rising fumes and not a single rumble of a bubble. They had really failed miserably.

"Snape should review it first, no?" Eve asked, glancing across the classroom to the new spot she found their professor stood. He was mixing a cauldron on the Slytherin side of the classroom. Marcus Flint was at the desk he stood in front of, but Eve couldn't even find satisfaction in the unpleased look on the boy's face. She grimaced and looked away.

"Yeah, dump it," Eve muttered.

Their plan of hiding the evidence of their failure worked successfully because just as Douglas made his way to the sink, the clocktower chimed the hour, and there was an audible sigh of relief amongst the Potions students.

"I think it was just an exercise of public embarrassment," Douglas said as he met Eve back at their desk with the empty cauldron. She grinned and glanced in the direction behind them.

"Not for everyone," Eve muttered, eyeing Matthew and Lucie as they packed up their belongings in blissful thought. Their hands interlocked the moment they finished, and they turned and headed for the door without another look at anyone else around them.

"Oh right, bye guys!" Douglas called out in sarcastic spirit, but the couple didn't turn. Eve laughed and threw her bookbag over her shoulder.

"And what's got you all bothered and bitter, Mr. Campfire?" Eve asked. Douglas's expression twisted into what Eve observed as a painful sort of scrawl. He turned in his heel and began heading for the door.

"Shall I guess then?" Eve asked, quick to meet his side as they retreated out of the cold confines of the classroom. Douglas sent Eve an apprehensive glance, although they both knew her guess would be correct.

"You know who I smelled," Douglas muttered, taking a swift glance at the movements on the staircase around them. He knew better than to utter the information so closely around adjoining students.

"Yes, I figured that much," Eve replied.

In truth, Eve had expected this from the beginning of their lesson on Amortentia. If there was anyone bound to smell the person they fancied, it was Douglas, even if he didn't want to admit that he fancied Fernando anymore.

The week prior, the pair had announced that they had talked it out between one another. Eve assumed after the kiss between her and Fernando that the boys realized there was far more serious and consequential matters than their immature emotional antics. Eve wasn't aware of the actual business discussed, but they had come to her as decided new friends with the intention of letting go their past involvement behind them for the sake of a peaceful rest of the school year. It all sounded like rubbish to Eve, but she accepted their words all the same, in any feeble attempt at keeping herself out of teenage dramatics this term.

It might have even been all a bit comical if she didn't have to see Douglas's sad, pensive stares at Fernando during dinner time. Eve assumed Douglas didn't know anyone was watching, but she always was, and always she would ask to pass the butter, and his gaze would be broken again.

"I'm sorry," Eve whispered. They met the top of the stairs and settled into the light of the castle corridors.

"It's fine," Douglas replied.

The pair walked in silence for a moment longer, passing the hordes of students that indicated the lunchtime hour.

"Eve!"

It was easy to spot Hermione when Eve turned. Her golden curls were neater than usual but still easy to spot amongst the blur of faces around them. Eve nodded at the girl and turned to Douglas, who already had a knowing look on his face.

"I'll see you at practi-" Douglas began before wincing at his unfinished words. He let out an aggravated groan as if hearing Eve's news all over again, and he retreated into the crowd with a wordless wave.

Eve turned back to Hermione, following the Gryffindor in the opposite direction of the crowd, walking through corridor and corridor and upstairs, before realizing it to be the passage towards the outdoor courtyard.

The sun beamed as the girls walked through the cobblestone yard, Hermione leading the way towards a side yard vacant from other students. She turned back to Eve as she leaned idly on a pillar as if it was Eve that had led the way all along.

Eve gave her a curious stare, watching as the girl folded her arms in front of her, a move Eve by now had noted as part of Hermione's self-assured nature. But at this very moment, the girl's freckled face held a distinctively different look.

"George told me what happened with Umbridge," Hermione stated finally.

"Oh?" Eve replied, entirely unsurprised. She had an inclination Umbridge would be Hermione's reason for coming to find her, although Eve wasn't precisely sure what Hermione's goal was in doing so. "I was truthful when I told George that she gave no hint of further suspicions about us. She truly did think I was just being a slag."

Hermione grinned slightly at this, letting out a short laugh as she began to shake her head.

"I know, I believe it. It doesn't matter anyway; she already has her suspicious about the DA," Hermione said.

Hermione's eyes began to graze amongst the courtyard as if searching for her following words delicately. Eve supposed maybe she was always like this, so careful revealing in her intentions and motives with others. Hermione was, after all, the girl directly involved in all the chaos that had ensued in the last few years at school. But when her eyes met Eve's again, Eve could see a glint of sadness take over.

"Can't believe she kicked you off the team," Hermione said.

"I don't know why everyone keeps saying that," Eve scoffed, letting out a deep sigh as she anticipated a conversation now that she felt she already had a million times.

She watched a group of Slytherin girls pass behind Hermione. The younger girls gave the two of them a curious stare. Perhaps, they had never seen Hermione speak to the Hufflepuff girl before and would make a note of it for future trouble. Perhaps, Eve was just getting paranoid. She frowned at them and turned back to Hermione.

"It just seems entirely too drastic," Hermione countered, and again she looked away from Eve and searched for her thoughts, "Maybe if we talked to Dumbledore about it."

"Dumbledore?" Eve asked, almost feeling regretful for the mocking tone she used, but she really couldn't believe the mention of the man, "Do you know something the rest of us don't? Because I don't recall seeing the man in months, Hermione."

Hermione sighed, nodding her head in immediate agreement, although she didn't seem pleased with the acknowledgment.

"No, none of us know where he's gone," Hermione replied flatly, shaking her head. "But it all just seems so…."

"So what? Unfair? Inappropriate? Excessively cruel? Seems to be the usual approach for mudbloods as of late," Eve remarked, although her expression fell when she uttered the word.

But to Eve's surprise, Hermione didn't flinch or even give a slight indication of offense in her reaction. However, Hermione must have seen the guilt in Eve's eyes because an incredulous look came over the Gryffindor girl.

"Bloody hell, Eve. I don't care if you say mudblood," Hermione said, at a tone much louder than either girl had anticipated, and for a moment, both turned their heads to glance at awaiting faces. No one had noticed, though.

"It's not fair that we can't say it, but we can get called it whenever the moment arises. Or even when it's not called, we can still look at it being said on people's faces, in their minds, and in their actions," Hermione began, looking at Eve now with the frustrated sadness she possessed at the beginning of their conversation. "I mean, the way Umbridge looks at me…."

"Yes, I know the look," Eve replied rather weakly.

Hermione nodded and looked away, and Eve wondered if perhaps she would cry. She was sure Hermione hadn't spoken like that before. But what would make their non-muggleborn friends understand, anyway?

"Oh," Hermione exclaimed suddenly, and quickly the sadness vanished from her expression as she fished inside the pocket of her robes. She pulled out a small jar and handed it to Eve, who took it and studied the reflection of the yellow speckled substance carefully.

"I've been testing this out with Harry and a few others," Hermione explained, "It's supposed to help fade scars."

Eve twisted the lid and gingerly lifted the jar to her face. She nodded at the smell.

"Lemongrass and… nutmeg?" Eve asked. Hermione grinned.

"Yes, and a few other things," Hermione nodded.

Eve took her index finger and dipped it carefully into the jelly. Taking a generous amount onto her finger, Eve lifted her opposite hand that still held the jar. She smeared the paste onto her scar and looked up to see Hermione eyeing her scar thoughtfully.

"I'm sorry if the DA got you in trouble with your personal matters," Hermione said, and again Eve could see her choosing her words mindfully. But Eve was smart enough to understand what she meant, even if it was so professionally put.

"It's fine. Fernando and I are just friends," Eve shrugged.

"Yeah, I figured so with how unbothered George seemed in talking about it," Hermione said, and although her tone was casual, her eyes flicked to Eve's with a seeking reaction.

Eve raised her eyebrows in slight surprise. Was Hermione Granger asking her about boys?

"What do you know?" Eve asked pointedly, although she wasn't even particularly sure what she meant by the question.

The belltower chimed in between their thoughts to indicate the lunch hour was half gone. And as if on unconscious cue, the girls began to walk together back into the castle.

"Only what my eyes perceive," Hermione finally answered with an indifferent shrug, although a slight grin formed on her expression, "And what my ears hear, of course."

"Your ears?" Eve asked, sending Hermione a perplexed glance as the girls walked back inside the confines of the castle's walls.

"Oh, Eve said this, Eve said that. I'm going to go early to see if Eve is already there. I think Eve would know what. Hey Fred, you reckon Eve is avoiding me?"

Eve burst out laughing. She didn't know if it was for the questions themselves or Hermione's weak attempt at George's voice, but her outburst caused Hermione to fall into giggles as well. They walked through the stone corridors and down past familiar stairwells, giggling and whispering just as teenage girls should and do, unconcerned of the looks they got from passing students.

"Does he really say that?"

"All the time! The whole Gryffindor common room has to hear it!"

"He just talks so loud, doesn't he?"

"Oh, Eve. All the Weasleys do."

The pair entered the Great Hall with a meager amount of time left for lunch. Eve glanced at the Gryffindor table, where a group of familiar faces sat talking amongst themselves. She watched George laugh at something Ron said.

"Don't tell him I told you anything," Hermione whispered, noticing the direction of Eve's eyes.

"Wouldn't chance it," Eve replied with an assured nod.

The girls exchanged departing grins before breaking ways and back into their separate colored tables of teenage amusements and particular miseries.


Author's Note: Sorry for the late update! Bit of a boring chapter, but I love Hermione and wanted to give her a bit of action. Also, gossiping teenage girls are my favorite. Thanks for reading! Happy Monday!