Amortentia
Chapter One
The solitary Hufflepuff in Seventh-year Potions was Nymphadora Tonks. Sitting at a table, alone, at the back of the dungeon, she was particularly inattentive this lesson. The reason for this was a small cauldron at the front of the class, which was bubbling and oozing a seductive scent of liquorice, firewhiskey and something that smelt vaguely warm and musky.
Tonks always had a hard time concentrating in potions, but today was worse than normal, what with that cauldron giving off intoxicating smells and Professor Snape pacing up and down constantly, giving information which she was supposed to be copying down.
"...most powerful love potion in existence..."
'Love potion, eh?' thought Tonks, sleepily. ‘That’d be useful.'
"...Amortentia is very complex to make..."
'Complex? I'd be no good.'
"...the scent is unique to each individual..."
'Awesome.'
"Are you writing this down, Nymphadora?" demanded a silky voice that could have been echoing a hundred miles away.
Tonks snapped back into consciousness.
“I…er…yes, sir,” she stammered.
She began to make notes feverishly, bending her current nose (which was beak-like and pointed) very close to her parchment so as to hide her shifty smile. The fact was, every time Professor Snape spoke to her, it had this effect. Even when he criticised her potions or snapped at her in class; it gave her a bizarre, pleasant little twinge.
* * *
Much later that day, Tonks lay on her stomach in her dormitory, golden-yellow bed hangings drawn, hiding her from view. She had her copy of Advanced Potion-Making open and was perusing it with interest. This was unusual enough, since she never read textbooks for fun, but this was different. She scratched her now-normal nose with a quill and made an annotation to the ingredients list for Amortentia.
Tonks let out a sudden giggle and shook her head, so that her pink hair bounced in the golden glow of her surroundings. An idea was hatching in her mind; a mischievous, daring, risky idea, but one so exciting it was making her shake.
Severus Snape: her sarcastic, intimidating, demanding (and weirdly alluring) Potions teacher, impaled by his own sword? She grinned with anticipation. It was her own guilty secret that she had harboured a crush for her teacher since fourth year. She blamed it on a lack of choice, since none of the other male teachers were up to much. But underneath the greasy hair there lurked a closet Casanova, she was quite sure of it. A plan firmly hatched in her mind, Tonks climbed out of bed and reached for her Potions kit, and began to gather ingredients.
Tonks always had a hard time concentrating in potions, but today was worse than normal, what with that cauldron giving off intoxicating smells and Professor Snape pacing up and down constantly, giving information which she was supposed to be copying down.
"...most powerful love potion in existence..."
'Love potion, eh?' thought Tonks, sleepily. ‘That’d be useful.'
"...Amortentia is very complex to make..."
'Complex? I'd be no good.'
"...the scent is unique to each individual..."
'Awesome.'
"Are you writing this down, Nymphadora?" demanded a silky voice that could have been echoing a hundred miles away.
Tonks snapped back into consciousness.
“I…er…yes, sir,” she stammered.
She began to make notes feverishly, bending her current nose (which was beak-like and pointed) very close to her parchment so as to hide her shifty smile. The fact was, every time Professor Snape spoke to her, it had this effect. Even when he criticised her potions or snapped at her in class; it gave her a bizarre, pleasant little twinge.
* * *
Much later that day, Tonks lay on her stomach in her dormitory, golden-yellow bed hangings drawn, hiding her from view. She had her copy of Advanced Potion-Making open and was perusing it with interest. This was unusual enough, since she never read textbooks for fun, but this was different. She scratched her now-normal nose with a quill and made an annotation to the ingredients list for Amortentia.
Tonks let out a sudden giggle and shook her head, so that her pink hair bounced in the golden glow of her surroundings. An idea was hatching in her mind; a mischievous, daring, risky idea, but one so exciting it was making her shake.
Severus Snape: her sarcastic, intimidating, demanding (and weirdly alluring) Potions teacher, impaled by his own sword? She grinned with anticipation. It was her own guilty secret that she had harboured a crush for her teacher since fourth year. She blamed it on a lack of choice, since none of the other male teachers were up to much. But underneath the greasy hair there lurked a closet Casanova, she was quite sure of it. A plan firmly hatched in her mind, Tonks climbed out of bed and reached for her Potions kit, and began to gather ingredients.