the first time valeria carrow smells amortentia is fifth year. she’s been at koldovstoretz nearly a year----long enough to acquaint herself with her parent’s idea of a better environment, and long enough to have, for the most part, moved on from the initial pangs of loneliness she felt at being separated from her sisters. koldovstoretz is cold, and she was determined to hate it on principle, but she’s found ways to pass the time, and people to do it with. however, when the steam spirals upward from the cauldron in front of her, bringing to mind so many of the things she holds dear, it’s enough to make her heart ache, for a moment.
chocolate truffles: rich, decadent, and probably excessive. valeria is spoiled, in her way, she knows; and spoiling others is how she shows the affection she so often fails to put into words. so its no surprise when she picks out the scent of one of her favorite guilty pleasures.
a roaring fire: this one brings back memories of gryffindor common room, loathe as she is to admit it. as much as she may have complained, the common room’s warmth was a stark contrast to her own home----where, from her parents, she could expect cool indifference, at best, and a glacial anger, at worst.
a crisp autumn night: specifically, late night quidditch practices, memories of the wind blowing through her hair and the rush of knowing nothing could touch her so high in the sky. freedom is really what she’s recalling.
fresh linens and aftershave: this one hits her like a ton of bricks. koldovstoretz hasn’t been as unkind to her as she’s dreaded, but there’s one thing----one person----that’s made it bearable, and she recognizes his scent, mixed with the sheets that he keeps fastidiously clean (ones she’s spent too many nights in, as if they were her own)---and her stomach flutters at what that means.
