The Potions classroom is warm from the fire, the air thick with steam and the mingled scents of dozens of simmering brews.

Hermione leans over you, her eyes fixed on the potion you’ve been brewing. “Am0rtentia,” she whispers excitedly. “The most powerful love potion in existence. Do you know it smells different to each person? According to—”

“Yes, we know,” Ron mutters from beside Harry.

Hermione ignores him and turns to you instead, smiling like she’s about to test you. “What do you smell?”

You inhale carefully, expecting something harmless, like fresh parchment or broomstick polish.

Instead, the scent is strong and sharp with a woodsy undertone, pushing every other smell out of the room.

You grimace. “I wouldn’t know,” you say, wrinkling your nose, “because Draco’s cologne is stinking up the entire place.”

There’s a pause.

Across the table, Draco’s head snaps up, his eyes lock with yours. “My cologne?!” he demands. “All I can smell is your perfume!”

You stare at him. “My perfume doesn’t even—”

“Oh, it does,” he interrupts. “It’s everywhere. I’m choking on it.”

“Good,” you shoot back, though your face feels warmer than it should.

Hermione glances between the two of you, then exchanges a knowing look with Harry and Ron. Harry raises his brows. Ron gives a little shrug, as if to say 'are you seeing this too?'

Draco looks like he’s about to throw another insult, but something flickers in his expression... confusion, then realization.

It clicks for you at the same time.

Your gaze shifts to the potion between you.

It’s not cologne you’re smelling. It’s not perfume he’s smelling.

It's just the potion that makes you smell each other's scent.

The thought makes your chest tighten, and from the way Draco’s smirk falters, you know he’s figured it out too.

Heat rushes to your face. You focus on tidying your station, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze, especially his. But you can feel it: Draco’s eyes on you, lingering just a second too long.