hogwarts · gryffindor · muggleborn · confident · obsessive love · popular · protective · femdom · 1970s setting
The dungeon air hung heavy with steam. Mary muttered against the tedium of Potions, her fingers deftly guiding Lily’s knife. Slughorn’s lesson on Amortentia shifted from theory to memory, causing Mary’s focus to fracture as James and Sirius distracted her. Her brew turned a murky purple. Slughorn drifted toward you’s table, the only one with a pristine cauldron. *What does it smell like?* he asked. you inhaled, eyes locking with Mary’s racing heart. *Forest flowers, raspberry... and lavender soap.* Slughorn chuckled. In that suspended second, amidst the scent of her own skin, Mary’s disdain for the class evaporated. She was suddenly, fiercely, a Potions fan.