#Professor: You guys did an amazing job but I'm gonna have to dock points because you guys just left.

[hawkbucks]

SteveTony Harry Potter AU for anon! :D Whose ask I have lost once again since it was on my old blog. 

Original prompt: hogwarts!au where tony & steve's class started lessons abt Amortentia, but Tony is unaware of w/c potion they are brewing; he's too out of the loop bc of another allnighter maybe? So Tony's confused as to why the room smells so much like Steve & thinks that he’s pranking him bc of a prank he did on him earlier? Or thinks Steve somehow found out he likes him and it's his way of teasing/making fun of him so he snaps loudly at Steve to Cut It Out

Tony wrinkles his nose as he measures out exactly 20 grams of powdered moonstone and adds it into his cauldron. They’re supposed to be making a potion that does… things? To be quite honest, he isn’t sure what it is they’re supposed to be making. Every word that his professor uttered went in one ear and out the other, the nook and crannies of his mind busy being taken over by dreamy thoughts of cuddling up in his warm bed with a belly full of food. Damn his N.E.W.T.-levels and the near obsessive way they have to study for them.

He stirs his potion clockwise once, then counterclockwise thrice, idly following the instructions written out on the textbook he has sitting next to his cauldron. He reduces the flame underneath his cauldron and leaves the potion to simmer, waiting for it to turn a sky blue.

He starts to crush 5 dried rose petals in his mortar and pestle, eyes wandering around the room. One student, Peter Quill if his memory serves him right, seems to having trouble with the way that he’s still trying to stir some peppermint into his cauldron. Another student, Kamala Khan, seems to have already finished, the professor standing over rnext to her and complimenting the fantastic sheen of her potion.

Then there’s Steve Rogers, who Tony’s eyes always seem to land on no matter where they are or what they’re doing. He seems to be on the same stage as Tony, the tip of his pink tongue poking out between his teeth as he works on crushing the petals. Tony briefly wonders if Steve’s hands are as large as they appear to be.

That’s inappropriate, his mind chides, but can anyone blame him? Steve Rogers is the epitome of perfect Hogwarts student. He’s a prefect (that Tony strongly suspects will be made Head Boy) as shown by the badge pinned to his chest, the Keeper on the Gryffindor Quidditch team along with being the team captain, an excellent dueler, and he’s earned an Outstanding on all of his O.W.L’s bar 2 subjects.

In short, he’s way out of Tony’s league, which is exactly why Tony’s chosen to have a crush on him.

It’s not helped by the fact that Steve seems to go out of his way to talk to Tony whenever he can, whether that means complimenting him on his wandstance or offering to buy him a Pumpkin Pasty or a Cauldron Cake whenever their shockingly interwoven group of friends ventures to Hogsmeade for the weekend. Plus, Steve, it turns out, is a bit of a nerd when it comes to collecting Chocolate Frog cards. It’s frustratingly endearing, especially when he offered to give Tony his card of Derwent Shimpling simply because he knew that Tony was intrigued by Shimpling’s story.

Speak of the devil, Steve catches his eye and smiles sweetly, eyes closing into crescents as he tilts his head to the side.

Tony huffs, embarrassed at being caught staring, and turns his eyes back to his cauldron.

The potion’s color is satisfactory, and he assumes the petals are crushed enough. He places the pestle off to the side. Using one hand, he stirs the potion clockwise and pours in the petals with the other.

It takes effect almost immediately; the surface of the potion forms this beautiful mother-of-pearl sheen, starting from where the petals were dropped in and expanding the more and more Tony stirs it. Steam spirals up into the air. He takes a deep breath, relieved that his potion turned out better than he expected.

And, wow, that potion smells fantastic. Freshly brewed coffee, petrichor, and… Steve, all sandalwood and vanilla. He takes another sniff, chest clenching when he realizes that Steve’s scent isn’t going away. He fists his hands, shoving them into the pockets of his robes.

The first thing his mind jumps to is that Steve knows. He knows all about Tony’s pathetic little crush on him and decided to tease him by spraying that stupid cologne or whatever he uses all over the room to see that lovesick look in Tony’s eyes whenever he catches a whiff of that scent that he associates so strongly with desire. It has him thinking whether Steve ever thought of him as a person or if he thought of him as a heart that he could string along and play with until he got bored.

God, and all of his other friends probably knew about this, too. Lose one, lose ‘em all, he supposes.

“Can you cut that out, Rogers?” he calls out, an agitated set to his jaw. He ignores the curious looks that a few other students throw his way.

Steve looks up from where he’s putting the petals into his own mixture, confused and looking as innocent as the day he was born. “What? I’m—am I doing something wrong?”

He’s a good actor, Tony’ll give him that. How else would he have been able to put him under the false pretense that Steve might actually want to be friends? “Stop spraying your perfume all over the room. It’s suffocating.”

Steve’s eyes go wide. Ha. Caught. “I’m—I’m not spraying anything.”

Tony snorts. “Sure.”

“No, I—Tony, you know what we’re making, right?” A few students snicker in the background, and Steve throws a hard glare their way. “We’re making Amortentia.”

Amortentia. Oh. Oh, no. He looks down at the textbook and, sure enough, Amortentia is written in bold words right at the top of the page. Heat engulfs his entire face and his knees start quaking. The most potent love potion in existence, he reads, finding this all very familiar from the precursory study he had to do a week before, distinctive for its mother-of-pearl sheen, spiraling steam, and an odor unique in the fact that it adapts itself to smell pleasant to anyone within sniffing range, with each person having their own combination. He should’ve known the second the petals hit the liquid.

Instead, he ends up outing his crush in front of all his classmates. Gossip spreads like wildfire around the school, so he has no doubt that everyone from the Headmaster to the squid in the damn lake would know about his crush by the end of the week, if not the end of the day.

“Professor,” Tony manages to get out, voice miraculously not wavering, “I need to use the restroom.”

He doesn’t wait for his professor to reply before he’s sweeping out of the room, tears threatening to fall.

Stupid. How could he be so stupid. He couldn’t just keep his mouth shut and confront Steve about it after class. No, he had to put on a show and now everyone knows. Everyone knows. They’re probably making fun of him. Steve’s probably laughing. Fine. It’s fine.

“Tony, wait!” Steve calls out from behind him, having followed him out into the hall.

He continues to walk, upping his speed. If Steve wants to mock him, then he can damn well do it later.

Steve’s footsteps get faster, louder, and then Tony’s wrist is held in a firm yet gentle grip, keeping him from moving any further forward. “Wait, Tony, please,” Steve says, out of breath.

Tony turns around, eyebrows furrowed together as he desperately tries to blink away the tears. “It’s not like you’re giving me much of a choice,” he grouses. He gives one experimental tug of his wrist, unsurprised that Steve’s grip doesn’t falter even a bit.

Steve pulls him closer until they’re standing almost chest-to-chest. Tony has to tilt his head up to even look at Steve in the eye. “The Amortentia… did you really not know?”

A peal of laughter tears itself from Tony’s throat. “No. I didn’t know. Why? You here to make fun of me all because it had your scent? Because I admitted to having a crush on you without me even knowing?” He tries one more time to get his wrist out of Steve’s hand. “That’s a pretty low blow, Rogers.”

Steve shakes his head. “The Amortentia scented like you for me.”

He sounds so genuine, so honest, that Tony hopes. Oh, he hopes. “You’re joking,” comes out of his mouth instead. “You’re lying.”

“Out of everything you think I’d lie about, do you really think I’d lie about this?” Steve says. “Honey and lavender. That’s what I smell, and it comes from you. You and hot chocolate and paint. That’s what it smells like for me. I like you, Tony. I’ve always liked you.”

Tony frowns. “Yet you’ve never told me.” 

“I didn’t think you’d like me back,” Steve admits, expression turning sheepish. “I mean, you could have anyone, really, so I… I don’t know. I didn’t think that I’d have a chance.”

“You,” Tony says in disbelief, “didn’t think you’d have a chance with me?”

Steve shrugs, smiling nervously. “You’re real kind, Tony. I’ve seen how you are with that Peter Parker kid; you’re basically his older brother. You’re not afraid to speak up, and I admire that. You’re smart and talented and…—” a red flush appears on Steve’s cheeks— “you’re cute. You could have anyone, and I didn’t think that you’d want that anyone to be me.”

Tony searches Steve’s face, stares him in the eye, looks for anything that could tell him that Steve is lying. He wants to believe that Steve is truthful, but he doesn’t want to but his heart at risk by blindly accepting his words at face value.

Thankfully, he finds nothing but earnesty.  

“You’re really not lying, are you?” he says, voice no louder than a whisper.

Steve swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing. “I’m really not.” He loosens his grip on Tony’s wrist. “Sorry for just grabbing you like that. I do, uh… I do like you very much.” He fully lets go of Tony, chewing on his lower lip.

Tony nods. “It’s alright.” He hesitates for a second before slowly reaching out with one hand and intertwining his fingers with Steve’s, restoring that connection. “We should probably get back to class.”

Steve laughs and squeezes Tony’s hand. “We probably should.”