Chapter Three - A Scentsational Wheeze
Sunday and Monday were uneventful, and Hermione was left regretting the decision to lessen her workload until after the New Year. With the large order for St. Mungo's taken care of, she only had a few smaller orders to fill in the next couple of weeks. This was supposed to be a perk of self-employment, and it usually was, but her planned days of shopping, baking, and decorating weren't taking her mind off the situation with Fred and the secret admirer, if there was one. She still hadn't heard anything else from whoever had sent her lunch.
When she awoke Tuesday morning, it was to the sound of an owl she didn't recognize tapping on her bedroom window. After she let the little creature in, it dropped the parcel that it had carried onto her bed and immediately flew away again, not even bothering to wait for an owl treat.
She turned to examine the package and found a shimmery white box embossed with the insignia of a posh London bakery. It was tied with a blue satin ribbon, and there was an envelope wedged under the bow.
Immediately suspicious, but still curious, she went through the same series of spells that she'd used to check the food delivery nearly a week before. She ripped open the envelope, finding a card nearly identical to the one that had come with her Italian meal. Instead of a Christmas tree though, this one was printed with a silver snowman. Inside was a single line of text...
Fancies for the gorgeous woman that I fancy.
Your Christmas Admirer
Still no real clue to the sender's identity. She knew who she wanted her Christmas Admirer to be, and it did seem like something he would say. It was just corny enough, and there was that word again… gorgeous. Had she really heard him say that, or was it just a lovely dream? She hadn't heard from Fred since that night, which wasn't unusual, but she was feeling a tad bit insecure.
But then, there was still a chance that this was malicious; someone luring her into complacency by sending innocent gifts and waiting for her to let her guard down. Or it could be a crazed stalker. She'd been the recipient of all kinds of attention, negative and positive, immediately after the war. That was one of the biggest reasons she hadn't gone to work for the ministry or done anything in the public eye of the wizarding world.
Harry… she hated to bother him, but it was time. Going to the floo, she threw in a pinch of powder, stuck her head in, and called out his address. She knew that he wasn't supposed to be working today. "Harry, are you home?"
Suddenly he was in front of her. "Hermione? Are you alright?"
"I'm okay. It's nothing urgent, but when you have the time I could use your help. I have a situation that I need you to check into."
"Step back, I'm coming through."
She stood, brushing the soot from her hair; after just a moment, Harry stepped out of her grate. "What's going on?"
For some unknown reason, she felt apprehensive about telling her friend now that he was in front of her. She knew that she should be safe and have it checked out, just in case, but this didn't feel like the stalkers, unwanted admirers, and criminals who had sent gifts in the past. This felt real… but maybe that was just her silly desire for it to be real. With the way her emotions had been out of control the past couple of weeks, could she really trust herself with this?
So, she told Harry everything. By the end of her explanation, he was grinning. Cryptically, he told her, "Give me half an hour. I have an idea that I want to check out. I'll be back." With a kiss on the cheek, he disapparated straight through her wards, the cheeky prat.
True to his word, he returned. Granted it was a little more than a half-hour later and she'd nearly worn a hole in her floor pacing in front of the floo during his absence, but he was back and that annoying grin was still firmly in place. "So, do you know who sent those things to me?"
His grin widened. "Yep."
She waited for him to elaborate, an expectant expression on her face. Finally, she gestured for him to get on with it. "Aren't you going to tell me who it is?"
"Nope, I can't. I've taken a wizards' oath." He crossed his arms over his chest, his expression becoming a little defiant.
"You haven't done the Unbreakable Vow have you?"
"Of course not, but you don't truly expect me to tell. Trust me, what I've agreed to will make what happened to Marietta Edgecombe look like a minor rash. Nope, sorry, you'll have to wait and see."
Hermione sighed deeply. "What can you tell me?"
Placing a hand softly on her arm, he met her eyes, a genuine smile on his face now. "This could be really great for both of you. I can see it truly working out." She started to ask if he could give her a little more to go on, but he just shook his head. "That's all I can tell you, don't bother asking anything else."
Saturday morning, Hermione awoke excited for the day ahead. Angie, Lavender, and Ginny were all supposed to come over for brunch and a day of baking. They were going to make an assortment of Christmas pies, cakes, and biscuits. Harry, Ron, Fred, George, Percy, and Oliver promised to stop in after work, and whatever Percy and Oliver had planned for the day to act as taste testers.
After dressing quickly, she made her way into the kitchen where, on her countertop, sat a bottle of Veuve Clicquot Demi-Sec. Just as she wondered where it came from and how it had arrived in her kitchen, she spotted the familiar-looking envelope under the bottle. Now that she knew that the gifts were from a safe source, she wasn't concerned, but that didn't exactly explain how it came to be inside her house. But… "Harry," she muttered aloud, of course... he had direct access anytime and now that he knew and approved of the admirer, he was likely acting as a delivery boy.
Hefting the familiar bottle, she smiled tearfully. This had been her parents' favourite champagne; her father had splurged on the sweet bubbly when he proposed to her mum. Hiding the ring in the bottom of her flute, he got down on one knee and asked her to be his wife just as she took a sip.
It was a story that she'd heard every year when her romantic parents shared a bottle on the anniversary of their engagement. It had been the first wine that she'd ever tasted, and it was still her favorite.
She knew that she'd shared that story with her closest friends. They'd all come over to comfort her when she discovered that the spell that she'd used to modify her parents' memories couldn't be safely reversed. That night, she had shared many happy memories that she had of her family and everyone listened, allowing her to cry and reminisce. There was only one single male who was present for that, but she didn't want to speculate too much. The disappointment would be awful if she was wrong.
Finally, she opened the card and couldn't stop the hot tears that began to flow freely down her cheeks.
Hermione,
I won't tell you how I heard the story, because I'm not quite ready to give my identity away, but learning of your parents' special tradition involving this particular champagne stuck with me. It's been in the back of my mind for all of the years since I heard it. I'm not perfect, I know I'll never be, but if you will let me, I can promise that I will love you like that.
Your Christmas Admirer
It was several minutes before she could stop the tears. That was exactly what she wanted. Someone who could give her the sort of love that was inspiring to others. She'd observed the same kinds of things in the couples at The Burrow over the years. With so many wonderful examples, how could she have ever settled for anything less? Now, all she had to do was hope that she felt the same when she learned her mystery man's identity.
With the help of cold water, a glamour, and some cosmetics, Hermione was able to rid herself of the red puffy eyes left behind by the crying jag well before her friends showed up. She'd just finished making their meal when everyone arrived within minutes of the others.
As they began to eat, Angie announced to the group at the table, "Fred and George need our help with a new product this evening. They're going to bring it over when they close the shop." At the sound of groans around the table, she laughed. "I promise that this one isn't bad. I know what it is and I can attest that there will be no strange side effects, no blurting of secrets, nothing bad at all. You know how protective of me George has been since we found out that I'm pregnant," at the answering nods of agreement, she continued, "well, this is so benign that I've already tested it."
Hermione still felt apprehensive, but Angie's declaration seemed to relax the others. However, as they began to bake, she managed to forget all about it. Hours later, they sat around the table, giggling and sipping tea as they sampled their creations. Everyone was covered in flour, frosting, and sprinkles, but they'd had a great time.
It was nearly seven and the men were supposed to be arriving. Hermione spoke up, "I didn't think about dinner. We haven't eaten a real meal since eleven. I'm sure the guys will be hungry too."
Lavender shook her head. "We don't have to worry about it. I told Ron to make sure that he and Harry bring dinner for everyone when they show up."
Ginny snorted. "It'll be pizza or fish and chips if you didn't tell them otherwise."
Angie rubbed her belly. "Mmmm, either of those sound good to me. I hope they get here soon, I'm starving."
A few minutes later, she got her wish when Harry and Ron arrived, bringing not only pizza and salads, but fish and chips as well. Harry looked a little sheepish. "Sorry, we couldn't decide so we got both."
Next to show up were Oliver and Percy, still wearing dress robes from whatever function they'd gone to that day. Because Angie was hungry, they didn't wait until the twins arrived. They were nearly finished with the meal, and the men were beginning to sample some of the baked goods when George and Fred finally came through the floo.
Upon seeing Fred, Hermione's tummy flipped. She couldn't help but wonder if he was the one sending her the gifts. Could he be ready for a relationship like that? She really didn't know.
As soon as everyone had eaten their fill, Fred and George stood and explained about the product that they were testing. It was a new unisex cologne. Other than promising that it wasn't any kind of love or lust potion, or a joke product, they wouldn't say exactly what it did.
They had everyone line up several feet apart. Fred approached Hermione. "I want you to do this part so that there's no way that George or I can possibly tamper with anything. We're going to go stand over there," he pointed across the room, "and go last. Before Hermione sprays anyone with the scent, I want you to take turns sniffing each other. Then she's going to go down the line and spray everyone, after which you'll all go back and see if you notice a difference. Once that's done, we'll have you do the same with us."
Hermione followed the instructions, feeling a little silly as she sniffed each of her friends in turn. She dutifully spritzed each of them and sniffed again. When she was done, she turned to Fred and George, "There was no difference at all. They all smelled exactly the same before and after."
George grinned, "I want everyone else to see if they think that the scents are the same."
Ron went first, starting with Harry, then moved to Ginny. "Blech, Gin, you smell awful."
Ginny nodded. "You do too, Ron."
Ron continued down the row and announced that Percy also smelled horrible, with Harry and Oliver remaining the same, but when he got to Lavender, he buried his nose into her neck, "Wow, Lav, you smell amazing."
"Oh, Ronnie, you do too!" She dropped her voice to a whisper, but it was loud enough that everyone could hear, "We need to go home now. I can't wait to get my hands, and lips, on you, you smell so good."
Hermione laughed along with the others as she shouted for Ron and Lavender to take their share of the baked goods. Thankfully, she'd had the foresight to box the treats as soon as they'd cooled.
Results were similar with the others. The Weasleys complained that their siblings now stunk, but were eager to leave with their significant others. Soon, Hermione was left with Angie, George, and Fred. George asked her to repeat the process with them as Angie stood across the room with an unreadable expression.
Hermione had a sinking suspicion that she was going to discover the source of the intoxicating scent that Fred wore on the night they spent cuddled together in her chair. Purposefully, she went to George first. She smelled him, sprayed him, and smelled him again — nothing. He smelled the same.
Approaching Fred, she sniffed him. He smelled nice, better than the others even before the addition of the cologne. She moved her arm to spritz him, but stopped, needing answers first.
"What is this, exactly?"
He smiled kindly. "Have you heard of muggles using pheromones in their perfumes, and colognes?"
She nodded.
"Then you know that the pheromones are supposed to increase attraction." He paused, watching her intently, obviously waiting for her to understand before he continued. "Well, we've managed to isolate the pheromones, and change them so that they work with a person's body chemistry in a way that only makes them more attractive to someone who already has feelings for them. It also repulses those who shouldn't be attracted, as you saw with my siblings."
Bravely, she stepped forward and sprayed him with the contents of the bottle. Before she moved any closer, Angie announced cheerfully, "We're leaving too. We'll see you two later."
It was Fred who moved first, coming close enough to breathe in her scent and allowing her to do the same. Her senses were overwhelmed by his proximity. Soon, she found herself in his arms as he buried his face in her hair. "I'm sorry that I wasn't more forthcoming, I… I… I just needed to know."
What did he need to know? If she was reacting to the pheromones on him, or if he would react to her? She honestly didn't know and still didn't know if her scent was truly affecting him as well. Needing to see his face, she lifted her head, meeting his gaze.
Their eyes locked for a moment before Fred's lowered to briefly glance at her mouth. Before she could react, he leaned down, lightly pressing his lips to hers. Almost as soon as he made contact, he pulled away, his breath shaky, "Not like this, I can't have you influenced by anything."
His expressive eyes searched hers, seemingly beseeching her to understand, but she didn't, not really. Was he feeling the effects of the pheromones and didn't want to act on something he may regret? Or was it possible that he did have real feelings for her and he was just as afraid as she was to take the next step and admit those feelings? If that was the case, she could understand not wanting to have any doubts about the influence that the cologne could be having on both of them. A first kiss was special. It wasn't something that you could do again.
Stepping away, he reached out a hand, grabbing hers but holding her at arm's length "I have to go. Staying here like this isn't a good idea. I'll owl you tomorrow."
She nodded shakily, unable to trust her voice not to break. With one final apologetic look over his shoulder, he was gone. And for the second time that day, she was unable to hold back her tears. Sinking to the floor, she wrapped her arms around her knees and cried miserably.