Due to the… unorthodox schooling last year, professors often found themselves teaching lessons that normally would’ve been taught the year before. When Harry walked into potions, he felt a wave of dejavu wash through him at the sight of the five cauldrons placed in the center of the room. Professor Slughorn beckoned everyone to gather around the potions and began the lesson.
When he reached the cauldron next to Harry, he called on Harry to name it. Harry took one look at the mother of pearl sheen and knew what it was: Amortentia. He could almost hear Hermione’s voice in his head as he gave nearly the same explanation she had two years ago. As he spoke, he caught a whiff of the scent.
It was… different.
Intrigued, Harry leaned forward and breathed in the scent. Without meaning to, he spoke his thoughts aloud, struggling to put them into words, “I smell fresh grass and brooms, like - like a quidditch day, and treacle tart and - “
He breathed in deeper, seeking that new scent. He couldn’t quite place where he knew it and yet, at the same time, it seemed so familiar. It was like a mixture of —
"Citrus and vanilla," Harry said aloud.
Too late, Harry recognized that scent and realized his mistake. Heat rushed to his face and he dropped his eyes to his potions book, praying the connection wasn’t made. He didn’t notice the gray eyes on him from across the room.
"Isn’t that the kind of cologne you wear?" Pansy asked beside him. "Citrus and vanilla?"
Draco didn’t respond, his eyes never leaving Harry.