Ficlet: Scent is a Potent Wizard
Title: Scent is a Potent Wizard
Word Count and Rating: 628, G
Summary: "It's my perfume! It's just a little unusual, that's all."
Notes: Set in 5th year. Title from Helen Keller. Written for dramionedrabble's Holiday Movie Drabble Challenge, prompt 94: "You stink. You smell like beef and cheese! You don't smell like Santa." -Elf and 100quills prompt #050: Ribbon.
Sweet Merlin, will it never come off?
Hermione stopped rubbing her neck with the damp towel long enough to pull the door to the Prefect's Bath open. The towel wasn't doing any good, anyway. After two scalding baths, one in rose-scented water and the next in lavender, she could still smell it, as if wavy stinklines were somehow emanating from her throat and wrists.
Pulling the door shut, she jumped as a familiar voice behind her drawled, “Good for you, Granger.”
Draco Malfoy lounged against the opposite wall with a fluffy towel in one arm and bath caddy in the other, obviously waiting his turn.
Hermione raised her chin high enough to look down her nose. “I don't know what you mean, Malfoy.”
“Just that you've finally embraced this thing we call bathing.” He straightened up and brushed past her on his way to the bath. “The rest of us certainly appreciate-Ew!” Draco stopped abruptly and covered his nose with one hand. “You actually do stink!”
Hermione flushed bright red and backed away, but Draco followed, dropping his hand and sniffing the air like a dog.
“You smell like...like...”
“Like beef and cheese,” Hermione said miserably.
“Yes!” he laughed. “Try using soap next time instead of lunch meat.”
“It's my perfume,” she said, indignant. “It's just a little unusual, that's all.”
“I'll say.” Draco was laughing still. “Did you buy it from a deli?”
“I didn't buy it at all.” Hermione slung her towel around her neck to smother the smell. “It was a Christmas gift,” she muttered.
Draco laughed even harder. “From whom?” he wheezed, “The Weasel? That's what you get, Granger, for dating someone who shops out of a bargain bin.”
“Ron and I are not dating.” She decided to ignore the slur against her friend for now because, really, she couldn't imagine where else Ron had found that perfume. She was surprised that Draco suddenly stopped laughing.
“Really?” He tipped his head to one side. “Still dating Krum, are you? Or,” his mouth twisted in distaste, “Potter? You could do better, you know.”
“I'm not dating anyone. Enjoy your bath.” She spun on her heel and walked swiftly up the corridor, feeling his eyes on her the entire time.
***
Alone in her room the next morning, Hermione stopped in the middle of tying her shoes when she heard a quiet tap-tap-tap on the window pane. She was surprised to see a large, somewhat familiar, eagle owl perched on the window's edge, its dark brown feathers ruffling in the cold wind that always surrounded the tower. She gently pulled the small package off his leg and fed him a few treats from the tin Lavender kept by the window.
Perched on her bed, she opened the box to find a beautifully wrapped box bound in a green and silver ribbon and a letter in Draco Malfoy's handwriting.
Granger, it read,
Although I looked for something in a nice tuna, or maybe pastrami and horseradish on rye, in the end I decided this is more you. Happy (belated) Christmas.
D.M.
Curious, she untied the ribbon and opened the box to find a little crystal perfume bottle. The scent that filled the room when she lifted the stopper was divine: mostly citrus, but with hints of vanilla and, maybe, sandalwood. Smiling, she dabbed a tiny amount behind her ears and on each wrist.
Knowing that Ron and Harry would be waiting for her to go down to breakfast, Hermione placed the bottle and letter under her pillow and finished tying her shoes. After a moment's hesitation, she pulled her hair up into a ponytail, tied it with the Slytherin green ribbon, and left the room with a spring in her step.
Word Count and Rating: 628, G
Summary: "It's my perfume! It's just a little unusual, that's all."
Notes: Set in 5th year. Title from Helen Keller. Written for dramionedrabble's Holiday Movie Drabble Challenge, prompt 94: "You stink. You smell like beef and cheese! You don't smell like Santa." -Elf and 100quills prompt #050: Ribbon.
Sweet Merlin, will it never come off?
Hermione stopped rubbing her neck with the damp towel long enough to pull the door to the Prefect's Bath open. The towel wasn't doing any good, anyway. After two scalding baths, one in rose-scented water and the next in lavender, she could still smell it, as if wavy stinklines were somehow emanating from her throat and wrists.
Pulling the door shut, she jumped as a familiar voice behind her drawled, “Good for you, Granger.”
Draco Malfoy lounged against the opposite wall with a fluffy towel in one arm and bath caddy in the other, obviously waiting his turn.
Hermione raised her chin high enough to look down her nose. “I don't know what you mean, Malfoy.”
“Just that you've finally embraced this thing we call bathing.” He straightened up and brushed past her on his way to the bath. “The rest of us certainly appreciate-Ew!” Draco stopped abruptly and covered his nose with one hand. “You actually do stink!”
Hermione flushed bright red and backed away, but Draco followed, dropping his hand and sniffing the air like a dog.
“You smell like...like...”
“Like beef and cheese,” Hermione said miserably.
“Yes!” he laughed. “Try using soap next time instead of lunch meat.”
“It's my perfume,” she said, indignant. “It's just a little unusual, that's all.”
“I'll say.” Draco was laughing still. “Did you buy it from a deli?”
“I didn't buy it at all.” Hermione slung her towel around her neck to smother the smell. “It was a Christmas gift,” she muttered.
Draco laughed even harder. “From whom?” he wheezed, “The Weasel? That's what you get, Granger, for dating someone who shops out of a bargain bin.”
“Ron and I are not dating.” She decided to ignore the slur against her friend for now because, really, she couldn't imagine where else Ron had found that perfume. She was surprised that Draco suddenly stopped laughing.
“Really?” He tipped his head to one side. “Still dating Krum, are you? Or,” his mouth twisted in distaste, “Potter? You could do better, you know.”
“I'm not dating anyone. Enjoy your bath.” She spun on her heel and walked swiftly up the corridor, feeling his eyes on her the entire time.
***
Alone in her room the next morning, Hermione stopped in the middle of tying her shoes when she heard a quiet tap-tap-tap on the window pane. She was surprised to see a large, somewhat familiar, eagle owl perched on the window's edge, its dark brown feathers ruffling in the cold wind that always surrounded the tower. She gently pulled the small package off his leg and fed him a few treats from the tin Lavender kept by the window.
Perched on her bed, she opened the box to find a beautifully wrapped box bound in a green and silver ribbon and a letter in Draco Malfoy's handwriting.
Granger, it read,
Although I looked for something in a nice tuna, or maybe pastrami and horseradish on rye, in the end I decided this is more you. Happy (belated) Christmas.
D.M.
Curious, she untied the ribbon and opened the box to find a little crystal perfume bottle. The scent that filled the room when she lifted the stopper was divine: mostly citrus, but with hints of vanilla and, maybe, sandalwood. Smiling, she dabbed a tiny amount behind her ears and on each wrist.
Knowing that Ron and Harry would be waiting for her to go down to breakfast, Hermione placed the bottle and letter under her pillow and finished tying her shoes. After a moment's hesitation, she pulled her hair up into a ponytail, tied it with the Slytherin green ribbon, and left the room with a spring in her step.