Why you were being taught about the potion, you had no idea. It was more than clear that Snape was ever so against the topic, and it was only due to it being a part of the curriculum that he was even covering the blasted concoction, and even so, it was only to know how to avoid it, never how to make it.
But despite the clear disapproval of the topic from both your professor and at least half the class, you found yourself stood as a part of the class eyeing off the potion with a certain level of distrust. You knew it was supposed to smell different to every person, a mixture of your favourite smells or something of the like, but while many of your classmates were eagerly edging forward to see just what theirs might smell like, you stood back. Did you really want to know what it smelt like? What if it was supposed to smell like your true love? Did you really want to be able to distinguish them from a smell?
A soft nudge pulled you from your thoughts as your best friend, Oliver continued to look ahead diligently, in the hopes that Snape wouldn't notice as he began to whisper to you. "Looks like Carter there wants to get her hands on it," he muttered with an amused smirk.
He was right, one of your classmates had been edging her way towards the potion ever since Snape had explained what it was, and you knew all to well just which professor she had her sights set on dosing; but then, with Gilderoy Lockhart as your teacher, it was hardly surprising.
"Miss Y/L/N," Snape drawled out, capturing not only your attention, but the entire classes as you wondered just what you had managed to do wrong this time. "Perhaps you could tell us exactly what Amortentia smells like."
With a quick glance towards the potion, you remained exactly where you were. "It smells different to everyone," you shrugged. "A mixture of your favourite smells."
"Yes, thank you for that quotation from your book," he replied slowly, gesturing with a slight nod for you to go towards the potion. "And what, pray tell, does it smell like to you?"
It was the exact question you had been dreading, but with a slight push from Oliver, you found yourself approaching the dreaded liquid, much to the envy of a few of the girls to your left. Taking a deep inhalation through your lips, you ready yourself, hoping beyond belief that it would simply smell of your favourite food or something of the like. But as you took a good whiff of the potion, your fears were instantly realized. Grass, ashwood, and a smell you could only associate with the Gryffindor Quidditch teams changing rooms flooded your senses, as your eyes opened suddenly in shock. Taking a quick glance back towards your suddenly very curious best friend, you instantly knew what those smells had in common and a soft blush began to grow on your cheeks.
"Today, Miss Y/L/N," Snape prompted you, drawing you out of your fear-filled revelry.
"G-grass," you began, swallowing what felt like a lump in your throat as you let your gaze return to your professor. "Fresh grass and ashwood," you answer, deciding to leave the rather telling third smell from your answer.
Snape's eyes squinted slightly at your answer, as if he knew there was something more, something you were holding back, but in a rare show of kindness, he held his tongue. However that kindness was instantly squashed as his gaze flittered towards Oliver in realization, the smallest hint of a smirk playing on his lips.
"Mr Wood," he began once more, his eyes lighting up as the opportunity to cause a certain level of chaos presented itself. "What does it smell like to you?"
With a soft nudge of encouragement, Oliver passed you to get to the potion himself, a gentle reminder that although it may feel like it, you were not in fact alone in the hell that was potions class.
Silence pulled over the class like a heavy curtain as Oliver inhaled the smell, a good proportion of the Gryffindor girls leaning forwards in hopes that whatever he might smell may relate back to them, but as Oliver too remained silent, fear began to play across the room.
"Do all Gryffindors wish to waste my time?" Snape drawled, his smirk only growing at your friend's silence.
"Blood orange, lime and spearmint," Oliver replied uncharacteristically quietly, his gaze anywhere but towards you, and you instantly knew why. It was the exact combination of fragrances you smelt of, from your blood orange body wash to the lime infused conditioner and spearmint toothpaste.
"How very interesting," Snape spoke simply. "Well, back to where you were, both of you," he ushers you back to your spots where you had stood oh so close only minutes earlier, spots that suddenly felt both far too close and a world apart all at the same time.
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"You know what, Jesse is right about you!" you yelled in frustration, throwing your hands up in the air in a desperate need to express just how aggravated the man had made you. "You are a pain! But at least with her you have the excuse of being her father. What the hell is your excuse with me, hmm?"
With an exaggerated sigh and roll of his eyes, Harrison humphed in response, his lips tightly closed as he carefully considered his words, his tone scarily even. "I am allowed to be protective," he spoke, as if the words were almost forced.
"Yeah," you nodded, your hands taking a potentially permanent place on your hips, "of your daughter. You don't get to be controlling over me, Harry. Only I get to say what I do and do not do."
"You listen to the others!" Harry rebutted, his tone losing it's calm clarity as his own irritation began to show. "You listen to Barry and Caitlin and Cisco when they tell you not to do something!"
"No, I listen to their concerns, they give me reasons why I shouldn't do something and I make the decision. You just tell me not to do things whenever anything is potentially dangerous," you refuted.
"Because I don't want you to get hurt!" Harrison yelled, his words seeming all the louder for the silence that instantly filled the room as he finished. "I don't want you to get hurt," he repeated softly, his tone sincere as his eyes met yours in a desperate plea to get his point across.
"Harry," you sighed, trying to find the right words. "That-That is very sweet," you smile, nodding in acceptance towards him. "But you're still a pain."
You had been doing your best to avoid Sirius ever since first arriving at Grimmauld Place, and it was beginning to show. You hadn’t seen your old flame in over a decade, and while a part of you leapt at the opportunity to see him once more, to reassure yourself that he really was back, safe and well, it couldn’t diminish the guilt you felt ever since learning of his innocence.
His eyes had been on you all throughout the meeting, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, even with Remus throwing you questioning looks, you simply kept your head down as you listened to your orders. But as the meeting drew to a close, and you readied yourself for a speedy getaway, you soon found your path blocked by the one man you had wanted to avoid.
Without a word, Sirius carefully wraps his long fingers around your wrist, pulling you up gently from your chair, without any argument from yourself, and leading you off towards the study.
Closing the door behind you, Sirius lets your hand go with a sad smile, as if every action he had taken since seeing you enter the house had caused a doubt to flood his mind.
“Tell me,” he prompts softly, his gaze piercing through you, knowing there was something heavily set on your mind. It didn’t matter that there had been some 14 years since you had last seen one another, he could still read you like a book, and you aren’t sure if you like that or feel uneasy about it.
With a slight shake of your head you let your gaze flitter back towards the ground, only to find a single finger catching under your chin, drawing your attention back towards him.
“Tell me,” he repeats with a soft encouraging smile. “I promise I won’t judge.”
His words hit a little too close to home and you felt tears begin to brim at the corner of your eyes. Forcing them shut, you shook your head once more, but this time you let words fall with it.
“You should,” you utter, your voice broken and quiet.
“Y/N,” Sirius practically sighs your name, and you can’t help the slight flutter of your heartbeat at the sound. Oh how you had missed his saying your name, how you had missed the tight hold he would have around you when he hugged you. Oh how you missed him.
“I- I doubted you,” you admit, pulling away from him, disgusted in yourself. “I thought you were guilty, I thought you betrayed Lily and James,” tears flow freely from you now as you begin to pace around the room, desperate to get some of the anxious energy out.
“And?” Sirius prompts, raising an eyebrow in amused curiosity as he steps towards you, blocking your path in order to stop your circles.
“What do you mean, ‘and’?” you question, your brow furrowed as you chance a glance up at his confused features. “I thought you were guilty! I thought you were actually on the other side!”
“Well there was a lot of evidence to support that,” Sirius shrugged as if it barely mattered. “I don’t blame you, you know. Come on, Y/N, Remus thought exactly the same thing as you, and I promise I haven’t hexed him or anything for it.”
“But I- I was supposed to love you, who loves someone and doubts them?” you ask, your sights finally settling on his.
“I’ll tell you what,” Sirius begins, tracing a finger along your jaw as a mischievous grin plays at his lips. “You spent 14 years doubt me, you can spend the next 14 making it up to me.”
A single laugh falls from your lips as you watch the man in front of you burst with pride at your change of mood, however slight it may be.
“And just how would I do that?” you ask, holding back a smirk as you lean into his touch ever so slightly.
“Well, I did just spend 14 years without a kiss, excluding that one dementor, but it really wasn’t my type...”
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“Cisco Ramon, if you don’t close your mouth right now I swear I am going to smack you back into reality,” you grit out as your gaze flickers between the scientist and the actress you had suddenly grown an incredible hatred of.
“Y/N, that’s-”
“I know exactly who it is,” you cut off far harsher than you had intended. Honestly, you didn’t quite understand why you were so short tempered all of a sudden, all you know was that the actress you had been ready to fangirl over only an hour earlier was suddenly in your bad books, and as such Cisco should stop fawning over her... or perhaps that was wrong. Perhaps she was in your bad books because Cisco was fawning over her.
A heavy set frown made its way onto your lips as you considered the thought for a moment before Cisco interrupted them.
“I thought you liked her,” he commented, his tone surprisingly soft as he looked to you in confusion.
“I-” you start, not knowing what to say. “I just don’t want you to make an idiot of yourself. Fangirling is all well and good, but this is a whole other level.”
“Wait,” Cisco grins mischievously as he takes in your uncertain stance, watching carefully as your sights set on the ground below you. “You’re not jealous are you?”
“What?!” you ask perhaps a little too loudly, “of course not! I don’t need you blubbering around like a fish with me.”
“Mhmmm,” Cisco nods, a knowing look on his face as a smile plays at his lips. “So you’d be totally ok if I went up to her and asked her out.”
“W- I-” you stutter, the vision of your best friend falling in love with the actress and spending the rest of his life with her suddenly filling your thoughts as a frown takes over you.
