FIC--Scent of a Woman (H/G, R/H)
Dec. 22nd, 2006 01:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ficsbydeenasI'm cleaning out the writing folder and had a few stories that needed to be let out of the house...
Title: Scent of a Woman
Rating: : PG
Words: : 2038
Betas: : Elisha and Victory
Summary: : Ever wonder what Ron smelled in the Amortentia potion that first day in Potions? Or have you ever wondered how Harry felt about smelling something that was uniquely Ginny?
Author Note: : This is the story I submitted to an archive under a different pen name. And lo and behold, it was rejected! Big surprise there! Well, I hope at least YOU enjoy it…
Scent of a Woman:
~*~
This missing moment from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince takes place at the end of chapter nine, The Half-Blood Prince, and the beginning of chapter ten, The House of Gaunt.
~*~
Ron was watching Harry. He didn’t do it often, but this time, Ron couldn’t help himself. Ever since he, Harry and Hermione had walked into the dungeon for their first lesson with Professor Slughorn Harry had that damned dopey look on his face. His friend wore the same look last winter when Harry had told him and Hermione about kissing Cho Chang. Goofy. That’s how Harry looked. Pathetic, too.
Ron had to wonder who or what Harry was thinking about at that moment to bring about the look of sheer and utter bliss. Slughorn? Ron nearly choked on his own thought. Out of the corner of his eye, Ron saw the portly professor stroll around the room talking about the different potions in the cauldrons that were in the centre of the tables. Acting on instinct, Ron turned off the portion of his brain that was set aside for paying attention and ventured a look at the potion in the middle of his table.
It was a shimmery pearly white and had the oddest, most delicious scent he’d ever smelled. Taking a whiff, a strange sensation filled Ron’s body and he smiled. If he’d had a mirror with him, Ron was certain his look would be as dopey as Harry’s.
Broom polish. That’s a good one. It smelled exactly like the expensive stuff Harry had. Ron was able to borrow some and use it on his own broom before school started.
The smell of the air after a rain shower. He could never get enough of that one. After a nice, good rain shower, Ron would try to sneak out and breathe in the heady scent of the clean, refreshed earth. There was something about that scent that could brighten his mood.
There was one more, harder to place, yet very familiar scent emanating from the pearly potion. Ron squinted in concentration, trying to figure out the mystery when Hermione’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
“It’s Amortentia!”
Ron’s head snapped up. He knew what that potion was. Why didn’t he say anything about it? Ron was about to add something to the discussion when a wave of the mystery scent washed over him. He looked around inquisitively, only to find Hermione sitting uncharacteristically close to him.
Slughorn was going on about something and before Ron knew it, they were given an assignment and the reward was a vial of liquid luck. Opening his tattered copy of Advanced Potion Making by Libatius Borage, Ron realized that even if he bought his own text before school, it would have most likely looked like this one. Grimacing at the thought, he set to work on his potion.
~*~
“Hey, Ron,” Harry said as he elbowed Ron while they walked down the corridor to the Great Hall for dinner. “What did you smell in that love potion? I’ll tell you…”
Ron stopped and leaned against the cool wall, watching the rest of the group file passed them. Making sure everyone had left, Ron whispered, “Broom polish, the smell of rain and something else I couldn’t make out.”
“That’s it? I thought you had something more interesting to say after all that secrecy, Ron. That’s pretty dull.” Harry gave a little chuckle.
“Well, what was so exciting about yours?” Ron watched as Harry opened his mouth but stopped him. “No, let me guess. Uh…brooms?” Harry nodded. “Now what else does Harry Potter love? Ah yes, a little thing called….oh what is it, treacle tart?” Harry laughed.
“Too right. But the last one is kind of hard to place. It’s kind of flowery and smells like something I’ve smelled at your house,” he explained, shifting his weight onto his left foot.
“Flowery? At my house?” Ron shook his head in disbelief. “The only thing that I know that’s flowery there is Ginny’s soap and shampoo. She tries to be all tough and tom-boyish, but she has to have that girly shampoo.” Ron shook his head. A thought occurred to him. “You thinkin’ about my sister?” Ron’s gaze was predatory, sending Harry into a panic.
“N-no! It’s got to be something else…uh, there’s other things that smell like flowers.” Desperately wanting to change the subject, Harry asked, “So what was the other thing Hermione smelled, you reckon? She never said.” That grabbed Ron’s attention. Harry shook his head in disbelief. If Ron couldn’t figure out what he really felt about Hermione soon, Harry thought he’d go insane.
“Who knows? Maybe she smelled Krum’s sweat.” Ron frowned at the thought. “Come on, Harry. It’s dinner time.”
Harry watched Ron stroll away from him and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the flowery scent. It couldn’t be Ginny. They were friends. She was nice and all, but that’s it, right? Harry shook his head in an attempt to clear his head and took off after Ron into the Great Hall.
For the first time in a long time, Harry noticed the girls of Hogwarts. His eyes kept falling on them as he walked passed them on his way to the Gryffindor table in a thin attempt to figure out which one could be the source of the flowery scent. He could tell for certain, that it was a girl; no bloke would smell like that on purpose and Harry was undoubtedly attracted to the female variety. Several girls smiled and giggled as he passed. Two smiling Ravenclaw girls were brazen enough to point at him, smiling cheerfully before he noticed Cho sitting two seats away. He made a mental note to swear off Ravenclaw girls for eternity. He was taken aback when three Slytherin girls began to sashay over to him before being hauled back to their seats by two dangerous-looking seventh-years. Tick the Slytherins off the list, he reminded himself. Before he could look towards the Hufflepuff table, he was grabbed by the arm and pulled down next to Ron. Gathering his bearings, he faced an irate-looking Hermione.
“Yes?” he asked her, irritated after only five seconds.
“Care to explain yourself, Mr. Potions Master in Training?” Hermione stared him down. Ron had to thump himself on the chest as he had just swallowed a mouthful of pumpkin juice.
“Oh come off it, Hermione,” Harry answered, turning his attention to the platters of sausages and beans in front of him.
“So whadya do differn den us?” Ron asked through a mouthful of sausage.
Harry then began to explain to his friends about the notes scribbled on the pages of the Potions book, garnering him stern looks from Hermione and flabbergasted, jealous ones from Ron. If Ron got the book, would Hermione be this upset? No, she’d probably fawn all over him, praising him for being so resourceful. The thought made Harry sick.
Ron surprised him saying exactly what Harry was thinking. “Slughorn could’ve handed me that book, but no, I get the one no one’s ever written in. Puked on, by the look of page fifty-two, but—“
“Hang on…” It was then that the most sweet-smelling, flowery essence filled Harry’s nostrils. He felt himself become light-headed and happier than he had been in a while. Harry turned his head and looked directly into Ginny Weasley’s deep mocha eyes.
~*~
Ron hadn’t looked up from his Transfiguration text in what seemed like hours. He hated Transfiguration and had never been any good at it. Now he had this darn essay to write about ‘The Principles of Re-Materialisation,’ some bloody thing he was sure that he’d never use in his lifetime outside the castle walls. He only wished Hermione were here. Where was she anyways? She usually came right down to the common room after dinner to do homework.
A shadow fell onto the table and Ron continued staring at his book. “You can rest easy, Hermione. I’m researching for the bloody essay.”
There was a giggle. Hermione didn’t giggle. She laughed or guffawed. But never giggled.
“Hi, Ron,” came the response. Looking up, Ron was presented with Lavender Browns’ impressive chest.
“Hi,” he muttered to her breasts. She giggled again.
“So, Ron, what are you doing tonight?” She sat down and Ron finally looked at her face. She was grinning broadly and she smelled funny. It wasn’t the smell from Potions, that was for sure. “Do you want to go for a walk?” She touched his arm and Ron stared at her hand.
“Um, no,” he stated flatly. Just go away, he thought. “I’m waiting for….”
“Hermione, yeah.” Lavender got up as quickly as she sat down and flounced over to the sofas in front of the fireplace, taking her breasts with her, but offering Ron a different view as she left. He smiled as he went back to his book, trying to find the place he left off before Lavender interrupted him. He absently rubbed his head; he was getting a headache from all this reading.
“Oh, good, you’re reading,” Hermione chirped. She sat down across from him and began unpacking her rucksack, placing her things carefully on the table in front of her. Ron watched as she lined up her quills in a neat little row and stacked her parchment, creating a perfectly aligned pile. He never noticed her do that before and he smiled quickly. “What’s the matter?”
Ron looked up at her. “Nothing. I just never noticed how you lined up your quills before. And your parchment. It’s all even and neat.” He saw her blush and look into her bag for something. “You used to put your quills above the parchment and your ink usually went on the right. When did you change?”
Hermione’s hue became a bit darker, making her almost glow. She looks pretty today, he thought.
“Um, it’s more efficient this way. I never thought you paid attention.” She placed her bottle of ink on the right-hand side of the parchment stack and began unscrewing the top.
“I pay attention to everything you do, Hermione,” he said softly. As he finished speaking, he noticed the smell was there again. Very close. Squinting in concentration, he tried to decipher the odour. It wasn’t all that unpleasant, but it was oddly familiar and its source had to be close. “Do you smell that?” he blurted out.
“Smell what?” Hermione looked around the room, looking for the source of Ron’s mystery scent. “Did someone let go a Flatulence Fire Whizz?”
“No,” he barked with a laugh. “It’s right over here. Kind of sweet but inky.” Ron lifted his nose into the air and made loud sniffing noises.
“Inky?” Her eyes lit up in recognition. “You mean this?” She held out her bottle of ink and Ron’s nostrils were flooded with the familiar scent.
“That’s it! Why does your ink smell like that?” His eyes were wide and his mind was churning at the possibilities of the meaning of it.
“Well,” she began after clearing her throat, “the regular scent makes me sneeze, so I add some essence of rosehips to it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I do it with every bottle I get.” She gave him a curious look. “Why?”
Why? She wanted to know why I smelled her ink? Oh bugger…It doesn’t mean anything, Weasley…
“Ron?” She reached out and touched his hand. She was the second girl who touched him this evening. Her touch was much more pleasant than Lavender’s.
“How long have you done that?”
“Since first year. I was sneezing all the time the first week I was here, and Madam Pomfrey suggested it.” Her hand was still on his and she began moving her thumb.
He watched her thumb stroke his skin and swallowed hard, almost sure she could hear it. “Does anyone else do that?” She couldn’t be the only one…
“Not that I know of.” She stopped caressing him. “Do you like my ink, Ron?”
With that question, Ron lost all power of speech, merely nodding his admission. But deep inside his unconscious, Ron was screaming at the top of his lungs: I love everything about you, Hermione!
~*~
Post-story Note: Stay tuned for the girls’ turn in “Scent of a Man.”
Title: Scent of a Woman
Rating: : PG
Words: : 2038
Betas: : Elisha and Victory
Summary: : Ever wonder what Ron smelled in the Amortentia potion that first day in Potions? Or have you ever wondered how Harry felt about smelling something that was uniquely Ginny?
Author Note: : This is the story I submitted to an archive under a different pen name. And lo and behold, it was rejected! Big surprise there! Well, I hope at least YOU enjoy it…
~*~
This missing moment from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince takes place at the end of chapter nine, The Half-Blood Prince, and the beginning of chapter ten, The House of Gaunt.
Ron was watching Harry. He didn’t do it often, but this time, Ron couldn’t help himself. Ever since he, Harry and Hermione had walked into the dungeon for their first lesson with Professor Slughorn Harry had that damned dopey look on his face. His friend wore the same look last winter when Harry had told him and Hermione about kissing Cho Chang. Goofy. That’s how Harry looked. Pathetic, too.
Ron had to wonder who or what Harry was thinking about at that moment to bring about the look of sheer and utter bliss. Slughorn? Ron nearly choked on his own thought. Out of the corner of his eye, Ron saw the portly professor stroll around the room talking about the different potions in the cauldrons that were in the centre of the tables. Acting on instinct, Ron turned off the portion of his brain that was set aside for paying attention and ventured a look at the potion in the middle of his table.
It was a shimmery pearly white and had the oddest, most delicious scent he’d ever smelled. Taking a whiff, a strange sensation filled Ron’s body and he smiled. If he’d had a mirror with him, Ron was certain his look would be as dopey as Harry’s.
Broom polish. That’s a good one. It smelled exactly like the expensive stuff Harry had. Ron was able to borrow some and use it on his own broom before school started.
The smell of the air after a rain shower. He could never get enough of that one. After a nice, good rain shower, Ron would try to sneak out and breathe in the heady scent of the clean, refreshed earth. There was something about that scent that could brighten his mood.
There was one more, harder to place, yet very familiar scent emanating from the pearly potion. Ron squinted in concentration, trying to figure out the mystery when Hermione’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
“It’s Amortentia!”
Ron’s head snapped up. He knew what that potion was. Why didn’t he say anything about it? Ron was about to add something to the discussion when a wave of the mystery scent washed over him. He looked around inquisitively, only to find Hermione sitting uncharacteristically close to him.
Slughorn was going on about something and before Ron knew it, they were given an assignment and the reward was a vial of liquid luck. Opening his tattered copy of Advanced Potion Making by Libatius Borage, Ron realized that even if he bought his own text before school, it would have most likely looked like this one. Grimacing at the thought, he set to work on his potion.
“Hey, Ron,” Harry said as he elbowed Ron while they walked down the corridor to the Great Hall for dinner. “What did you smell in that love potion? I’ll tell you…”
Ron stopped and leaned against the cool wall, watching the rest of the group file passed them. Making sure everyone had left, Ron whispered, “Broom polish, the smell of rain and something else I couldn’t make out.”
“That’s it? I thought you had something more interesting to say after all that secrecy, Ron. That’s pretty dull.” Harry gave a little chuckle.
“Well, what was so exciting about yours?” Ron watched as Harry opened his mouth but stopped him. “No, let me guess. Uh…brooms?” Harry nodded. “Now what else does Harry Potter love? Ah yes, a little thing called….oh what is it, treacle tart?” Harry laughed.
“Too right. But the last one is kind of hard to place. It’s kind of flowery and smells like something I’ve smelled at your house,” he explained, shifting his weight onto his left foot.
“Flowery? At my house?” Ron shook his head in disbelief. “The only thing that I know that’s flowery there is Ginny’s soap and shampoo. She tries to be all tough and tom-boyish, but she has to have that girly shampoo.” Ron shook his head. A thought occurred to him. “You thinkin’ about my sister?” Ron’s gaze was predatory, sending Harry into a panic.
“N-no! It’s got to be something else…uh, there’s other things that smell like flowers.” Desperately wanting to change the subject, Harry asked, “So what was the other thing Hermione smelled, you reckon? She never said.” That grabbed Ron’s attention. Harry shook his head in disbelief. If Ron couldn’t figure out what he really felt about Hermione soon, Harry thought he’d go insane.
“Who knows? Maybe she smelled Krum’s sweat.” Ron frowned at the thought. “Come on, Harry. It’s dinner time.”
Harry watched Ron stroll away from him and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the flowery scent. It couldn’t be Ginny. They were friends. She was nice and all, but that’s it, right? Harry shook his head in an attempt to clear his head and took off after Ron into the Great Hall.
For the first time in a long time, Harry noticed the girls of Hogwarts. His eyes kept falling on them as he walked passed them on his way to the Gryffindor table in a thin attempt to figure out which one could be the source of the flowery scent. He could tell for certain, that it was a girl; no bloke would smell like that on purpose and Harry was undoubtedly attracted to the female variety. Several girls smiled and giggled as he passed. Two smiling Ravenclaw girls were brazen enough to point at him, smiling cheerfully before he noticed Cho sitting two seats away. He made a mental note to swear off Ravenclaw girls for eternity. He was taken aback when three Slytherin girls began to sashay over to him before being hauled back to their seats by two dangerous-looking seventh-years. Tick the Slytherins off the list, he reminded himself. Before he could look towards the Hufflepuff table, he was grabbed by the arm and pulled down next to Ron. Gathering his bearings, he faced an irate-looking Hermione.
“Yes?” he asked her, irritated after only five seconds.
“Care to explain yourself, Mr. Potions Master in Training?” Hermione stared him down. Ron had to thump himself on the chest as he had just swallowed a mouthful of pumpkin juice.
“Oh come off it, Hermione,” Harry answered, turning his attention to the platters of sausages and beans in front of him.
“So whadya do differn den us?” Ron asked through a mouthful of sausage.
Harry then began to explain to his friends about the notes scribbled on the pages of the Potions book, garnering him stern looks from Hermione and flabbergasted, jealous ones from Ron. If Ron got the book, would Hermione be this upset? No, she’d probably fawn all over him, praising him for being so resourceful. The thought made Harry sick.
Ron surprised him saying exactly what Harry was thinking. “Slughorn could’ve handed me that book, but no, I get the one no one’s ever written in. Puked on, by the look of page fifty-two, but—“
“Hang on…” It was then that the most sweet-smelling, flowery essence filled Harry’s nostrils. He felt himself become light-headed and happier than he had been in a while. Harry turned his head and looked directly into Ginny Weasley’s deep mocha eyes.
Ron hadn’t looked up from his Transfiguration text in what seemed like hours. He hated Transfiguration and had never been any good at it. Now he had this darn essay to write about ‘The Principles of Re-Materialisation,’ some bloody thing he was sure that he’d never use in his lifetime outside the castle walls. He only wished Hermione were here. Where was she anyways? She usually came right down to the common room after dinner to do homework.
A shadow fell onto the table and Ron continued staring at his book. “You can rest easy, Hermione. I’m researching for the bloody essay.”
There was a giggle. Hermione didn’t giggle. She laughed or guffawed. But never giggled.
“Hi, Ron,” came the response. Looking up, Ron was presented with Lavender Browns’ impressive chest.
“Hi,” he muttered to her breasts. She giggled again.
“So, Ron, what are you doing tonight?” She sat down and Ron finally looked at her face. She was grinning broadly and she smelled funny. It wasn’t the smell from Potions, that was for sure. “Do you want to go for a walk?” She touched his arm and Ron stared at her hand.
“Um, no,” he stated flatly. Just go away, he thought. “I’m waiting for….”
“Hermione, yeah.” Lavender got up as quickly as she sat down and flounced over to the sofas in front of the fireplace, taking her breasts with her, but offering Ron a different view as she left. He smiled as he went back to his book, trying to find the place he left off before Lavender interrupted him. He absently rubbed his head; he was getting a headache from all this reading.
“Oh, good, you’re reading,” Hermione chirped. She sat down across from him and began unpacking her rucksack, placing her things carefully on the table in front of her. Ron watched as she lined up her quills in a neat little row and stacked her parchment, creating a perfectly aligned pile. He never noticed her do that before and he smiled quickly. “What’s the matter?”
Ron looked up at her. “Nothing. I just never noticed how you lined up your quills before. And your parchment. It’s all even and neat.” He saw her blush and look into her bag for something. “You used to put your quills above the parchment and your ink usually went on the right. When did you change?”
Hermione’s hue became a bit darker, making her almost glow. She looks pretty today, he thought.
“Um, it’s more efficient this way. I never thought you paid attention.” She placed her bottle of ink on the right-hand side of the parchment stack and began unscrewing the top.
“I pay attention to everything you do, Hermione,” he said softly. As he finished speaking, he noticed the smell was there again. Very close. Squinting in concentration, he tried to decipher the odour. It wasn’t all that unpleasant, but it was oddly familiar and its source had to be close. “Do you smell that?” he blurted out.
“Smell what?” Hermione looked around the room, looking for the source of Ron’s mystery scent. “Did someone let go a Flatulence Fire Whizz?”
“No,” he barked with a laugh. “It’s right over here. Kind of sweet but inky.” Ron lifted his nose into the air and made loud sniffing noises.
“Inky?” Her eyes lit up in recognition. “You mean this?” She held out her bottle of ink and Ron’s nostrils were flooded with the familiar scent.
“That’s it! Why does your ink smell like that?” His eyes were wide and his mind was churning at the possibilities of the meaning of it.
“Well,” she began after clearing her throat, “the regular scent makes me sneeze, so I add some essence of rosehips to it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I do it with every bottle I get.” She gave him a curious look. “Why?”
Why? She wanted to know why I smelled her ink? Oh bugger…It doesn’t mean anything, Weasley…
“Ron?” She reached out and touched his hand. She was the second girl who touched him this evening. Her touch was much more pleasant than Lavender’s.
“How long have you done that?”
“Since first year. I was sneezing all the time the first week I was here, and Madam Pomfrey suggested it.” Her hand was still on his and she began moving her thumb.
He watched her thumb stroke his skin and swallowed hard, almost sure she could hear it. “Does anyone else do that?” She couldn’t be the only one…
“Not that I know of.” She stopped caressing him. “Do you like my ink, Ron?”
With that question, Ron lost all power of speech, merely nodding his admission. But deep inside his unconscious, Ron was screaming at the top of his lungs: I love everything about you, Hermione!
Post-story Note: Stay tuned for the girls’ turn in “Scent of a Man.”
