Draco Malfoy #12

You and Draco Malfoy have clashed since your first year. You're both Slytherins, both ambitious, but you're a half-blood, which has always made your relationship more strained. Between venomous remarks, constant competition, and carefully feigned contempt, you've never been close. What no one knows (and Draco would least of all admit) is that he's secretly liked you for a long time, much to his own frustration.

The Potions class progresses until Severus Snape presents Amortentia and explains that its scent changes depending on the person, revealing what they most desire, not what they love. One by one, the students perceive different smells.

When the bottle reaches Draco, he wrinkles his nose in disgust.

“This is disgusting,” he murmurs. “It smells bad.”

Snape looks up.

“Be specific, Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco sniffs again and tenses up.

“It smells like…” he stops, “like her.”

The class erupts in laughter. Draco straightens up abruptly.

“Not her. Her perfume. Or her soap. Or whatever she uses.”

Snape gestures for them to be quiet. He approaches slowly.

“Amortentia reveals neither affection nor conscious intention,” he says. “It reveals desire. Obsession. That which the mind tries to deny.”

He stops behind Draco.

“For you, Mr. Malfoy, the potion takes on the young lady’s scent because her presence occupies a persistent place in your attention. It is not a choice. It is chemistry.”

The silence is absolute. Draco is rigid, furious, ashamed.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he says through gritted teeth.

Snape looks down at him.

“It means exactly what it means,” she replies firmly. “And nothing more.”

The class continues, but no one is really listening anymore. Draco avoids looking at you, though his expression betrays him. The Amortentia is still steaming on the table, as if it still has something to say.