Happy Valentine's Day, Hermione

Hermione Granger was trying to finish reading three chapters of Exotic Carnivorous Plants (How to Survive Owning One) for her Herbology essay, entitled “How to Care for the different kinds of Carnivorous Plant Traps”. She furrowed her eyebrows. “The Superior Venus Fly Trap needs constant care and supervision,” she muttered. “If not maintained for a short period of time, it will emit a very horrible stench coming from—argh!”

Succumbing to frustration, she snapped the book shut and sighed loudly. That was the forty-third time she read that sentence in the past ten minutes. She just couldn’t concentrate! “Shh!” shushed Madam Pince, as the eagle-eyed librarian gave her a piercing glance. Hermione didn’t even look up, only muttering a “sorry” under her breath. She did, however, see Madam Pince wave her index fingers at several giggling Hufflepuff fourth-years who were poking their friend who was receiving a bouquet of red roses from a tall Ravenclaw admirer, it seemed. “This is a library, a room of great learning, and not a meeting of lovers,” the librarian said huffily, fixing her spectacles.

Hermione watched the group shuffle away and sighed again. She finally knew what was getting her goat.

Valentine’s Day.

Every year around the second week of February, the Great Halls became littered with red and pink decorations. You’d even see Peeves dressed up as Cupid and “accidentally” hitting Filch in the posterior with one of his golden arrows. Professor Flitwick would be showing them how to distinguish between an Aphrodite Charm and a Venus Spell. Professor Snape would be demonstrating how to concoct a Love Potion, much to his dismay and repulsion. Aside from that, everyone would become all mushy and even more inattentive in their classes, daydreaming that their latest crush would ask them to be their valentines. Those with steadies were saving every Galleon to purchase a gift for their loved ones in time for that special day.

It was all a load of dung. She did not enjoy it one bit.

Why was she being a Valentine Grinch? Oh it wasn’t that she didn’t receive any valentine cards. How shallow was she to get mad over that silly reason? She received some, from her friends and family. No no. It was, to put it simply, the uselessness of the occasion. And how people became so giggly and romantic during that particular holiday. You could hardly talk to anyone without that person bursting into peals of laughter. It just did not make sense. And Hermione hated things that did not make sense to her.

She sighed and blew a stray strand of her now straighter locks (straighter; not entirely straight yet, but she was working on that) away from her eyes. She checked her watch and blinked sleepily. Five more hours to the fourteenth of February, she thought wryly. Gee, the day when I get to watch people make fools of themselves. I can hardly wait.

She could only console herself by thinking that she only had a year to go before ridding herself of this ridiculous tradition.

Gathering the pieces of parchment she had scribbled her notes on, she lifted herself heavily off of the seat. It was suppertime already, her stomach told her. She had approximately five minutes to leave all her belongings in the girl’s dormitory and head down to the Great Hall for supper. Valentine’s Day. Bugger. What else could go wrong?

* * * *

Breathless, she burst through the door of the Gryffindor Sixth Years Girl’s dormitories. Or what she thought was the dormitories. It had been so this morning. Her heart sank miserably. This is not what I need, definitely not what I need.

“Wha—Wha?” she stuttered. She stared at the numerous rose- and lilac-colored silky, gauzy sheets draped over the four-poster beds and bedside tables. She gawked at the heart-printed cotton comforters and the pink, mind you, PINK velvet drapes that hung around her bed. She gaped at the peach and red rose petals scattered all over the floor, strategically placed so that one would follow a path that would lead them to look at the most appalling change of all. Smack-dab in the center of the room, was a blown-up eight-foot picture of Harry Potter.

Parvati and Lavender had obviously redecorated the entire room in the span of an hour. They did a pretty good job of it, and Hermione would have been impressed if it hadn’t been for her incredibly bad mood, the fact that they didn’t ask for her permission (as it was her dormitory too) and that she didn’t want her best friend’s face plastered all over the wall.

Parvati leapt over to Hermione, grinning widely. “Isn’t it wonderful, Mione? All the pastels, the roses, the hearts... romantic isn’t it? See, we even redesigned your bed! It looks marvelous doesn’t it?” She linked her arm around Hermione’s as Lavender bounced over, her perfect teeth dazzling. “And the roses, aren’t they superb? Have you smelt them? You’ll be showered with their heavenly scent while you sleep!”

Hermione stared at them openmouthed.

They gave her startlingly brilliant smiles, “Well?”

“Why is the picture of my best friend enlarged to an unimaginable size and pasted on the wall?” she replied, with all the self-control she could muster. Both girls glanced at the picture and gave audible sighs of infatuation. “Oh Mione, you’re such a laugh. You of all people should know. He’s your best friend! You’re with him all the time!” The last statement made their eyebrows furrow and their eyes narrow.

“Are you angry because... Harry and you? You and Harry? Hmm?” Parvati sniffed snottily. Lavender gasped at the notion her friend was implying. “No of course not! Right Hermione? I mean, your relationship with Harry is completely platonic.”

Both girl’s sneered unfriendly-ly at her. “Right?”

Hermione threw up her hands in disgust, “I will not even dignify that question with an answer!” She glanced at her four-poster, already searching her head for the spell to revert it back into her old one. She was also trying to figure out how to take down Harry’s picture without Parvati and Lavender pitching a hissyfit. She looked at Harry’s smiling face, enlarged twenty times it’s normal size. The picture was waving cheerfully, giving her a warm grin. His messy black hair flopped into his eyes, obscuring the scar. His green eyes glinted with hidden mischief. Her bad mood diminished slightly. Just a teensy weensy bit.

“Where on earth did you get such a picture?” Hermione wondered, her brow unfurrowing. His position looked so familiar. He was in his scarlet Quidditch robes, leaning against a wall. He looked quite exhilarated, as if he just won the game. She remembered having a similar picture to that one, tucked into her treasured photo album.

The pair reddened, and Parvati started twiddling her fingers. “Well, we kind of... er, that is... when we borrowed your photo album... wekindasortoftookit.” Both cringed at the fury that emanated from their normally studious roommate. They didn’t realize that the photo meant that much to her.

Ding! That was the limit for Hermione's patience.

“You WHAT?! You STOLE that picture from my photo album?!” she yelled. “Who said you could even LOOK at the album?! How DARE you take things without MY permission?! How DARE you decorate OUR dormitory without even CONSULTING me?! How DARE you blow up MY picture of MY best friend without telling ME?! Do you think you could just IGNORE my opinion?!”

Both girls cowered under the other girl’s furious gaze. “Hermione,” Lavender reasoned. “Dear, please think rationally about the situation.”

“Yes yes!” Parvati agreed readily. “You shouldn’t overreact.”

“Gets that blood pressure of yours up. And we wouldn’t want you to get all huffy and faint, would we?”

“And besides! Why should you be in a bad mood?”

Both girls grinned and threw their arms out, silly grins spreading on their faces. “It’s Valentine’s Day!”

Hermione stared at them dully for a second, before turning around and stomping away. Curses were being muttered and the pounding of her feet echoed around the hallway to the Common Room and continued until they heard the portrait hole being slammed shut. Both girls blinked.

“So d'you think we can keep it?” Parvati wondered.

Lavender shrugged. “I reckon so.”

Parvati grinned happily. “Good! Now, did you see Harry in Care of Magical Creatures this morning?”

* * * *

Hermione flopped onto the chair nearest to the fire upon entering the empty Common Room. Her eyes drooped tiredly. It was three quarters past eleven, and she had spent the entire evening avoiding their dormitories. Parvati and Lavender probably hadn’t taken down the decorations as she had requested, so she decided to enter when darkness blanketed the room and she wouldn’t have to see the ridiculous room design as she came in.

She twisted a piece of wavy brown hair around her finger, lazily watching the fire through half-lidded eyes. She curled up in the chair, enjoying the coziness and comfort it offered her. February was still very much cold, and any time near the fireplace was welcomed. She snuggled into the nook of the chair, her eyes closing and her mind debating whether to spend the night here instead of in her bed.

“Mione?”

She opened one eye and saw a disheveled form creeping up to her. He had a messy mop of black hair and bright green eyes. His glasses were slightly askew, and his clothes were rumpled adorably. “Hullo Harry,” she murmured, yawning widely. She smiled at the sight. He looked so young, so much younger than his age of sixteen.

“Hullo,” he said, smiling back at her. He collapsed onto the sofa opposite to Hermione’s chair. “Up so late?”

“I cannot stand Parvati and Lavender!" she exploded suddenly. "They’re just so... inconsiderate!” Harry chuckled good-naturedly. “You’ve been their roommate for six years and you only realized it now?” She made a face at him. “That’s not all. They even went so low as to steal...” She stopped and giggled, surprising him.

“What is it?”

“If I tell you, your big head’ll inflate even more,” she joked, ruffling the top of his head playfully.

He wrinkled his nose in annoyance. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, my all-star Quidditch-playing friend, that they took my picture of you from my album and blew you up twenty sizes too big,” she confessed. It actually seemed funny now, come to think of it. The looks of terror on Parvati and Lavender’s faces were positively hilarious! "I blew up and left them in states of adoration and decided to steer clear of the room until necessary.”

Harry scowled at the thought of his face in the girl’s dormitories before realizing what Hermione said. “Hey! Does that mean you’re not the least bit attracted to my manly charms?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively, making her laugh. “You wish Potter,” she snorted. “Manly charms or no, you’ll still be special to me.”

A strange look overcame Harry’s face. “You really mean that, Mione?”

She let out a heavy sigh. “Of course, you daft git! You’re my best friend; nothing will ever change that.” She didn’t notice that the glint in Harry’s eyes faded slowly and he muttered an “Oh...” under his breath. Seconds ticked by as they watched the fire in the hearth flicker softly. Hermione drew in a breath apprehensively. The flames were like fingers, reaching and clawing at the heavens, trying to climb higher and higher. The orange and red and yellow, clashing in an eternal battle, fighting for supremacy in the enclosed, tiny fireplace...

She shook her head. Valentine’s Day was making her too damn poetic for her own good.

“What’s wrong Mione?”

She harrumphed loudly. “Valentine’s Day. That’s what’s wrong Harry.”

“And what, pray tell my dear lady, is wrong with Valentine’s Day?”

“What’s wrong? What isn’t wrong?! I absolutely abhor it, and with good reason. I mean, think about it! The atmosphere is just too damn irrational and downright insensible for our good. Instead of progressing through a normal day, I have to walk down the corridor and see at least three couples snogging the brains out of each other--” Harry colored at her choice of her words “—plus, the lessons that Professor Dumbledore makes the teachers give are completely not included in the curriculum. Instead of using the week to discuss points that are possibly in next year’s NEWTS, we have to make LOVE POTIONS!”

She glared pointedly at him, expecting him to agree with the complete pointlessness of Valentine’s Day.

Harry shook his head and chuckled. “Hermione, for you this might be terrible, but for others it’s sort of a break. The seventh years take time off from studying and just spend time with the people they love instead of worrying about their tests. And not just the seventh years. To the people in love or who want to be in love, there is an air of romance about. For some people, amour is more important than books.”

Hermione looked aghast at the very statement. “The seventh years?! How can they think about Cupid when the test of their lives are approaching?! Have they gone mad?! Have YOU gone mad?!” she sputtered, “And besides... how can they believe love is more important than learning? Than-than... books?!”

Harry gave her a Look.

She let out a sigh of resignation. “Oh all right, you may be right about that. But that isn’t the way I think.”

Harry gestured for a space next to her on the large armchair. She obliged, straightening up to allow him to sit next to her. Much too close for comfort. His chest was pressed to her back and she could smell him. Very clean, like soap and water, with a grassy Quidditch scent and a bit of pumpkin pie. It was so comforting, so... Harry. Hermione flushed at his nearness. But somehow it seemed too natural to be uncomfortable. Subconsciously, she laid her head across his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around her.

Anyone who knew them and caught them like this wouldn’t give it a second glance. Harry and Hermione were very close; they embraced exaggeratedly to surprise people and Harry even went as far as to give both her cheeks big, sloppy kisses. It was imprinted in everyone’s mind that they did such things without any malice at all. And there wasn’t.

But this embrace... it was different. It seemed as if Harry were trying to tell her something, through his actions. Pouring out an invisible something. SOMETHING. Very very peculiar. For once in her life, Hermione found that she had nothing to say to Harry.

“Huk—” she started. She cleared her throat. Why was she so nervous? This was Harry. HARRY. Her best friend. The person to whom she told everything. So why was she acting this way? Damn Valentine’s Day. Was that what was making her stomach flutter? Was that what was making her throat dry up? Was that what was making her blush and tense?

Or was it something else?

Embarrassment. Yes, that what it was. But... that was preposterous! She’s never been embarrassed in front of Harry. He was too close to her for her to be embarrassed about the things she did or didn’t so why did she feel embarrassed when there was nothing to be embarrassed about unless of course there was something to be emb-... oh my Lord, am I babbling?!

Damn Valentine’s Day.

Damn it to hell.

“Yes Hermione, it isn’t the way you think at all,” Harry said, with a philosophical intonation. She bit back a giggle. “But Hermione... you need to look past your books and look at the world around you. People are HAPPY with Valentine’s Day. Happy to spend one day just being romantic and free and loved. Above all things, loved. And you should be too. You of all people deserve this sort of break. I know a lot of people would love to ask you to be their Valentine.”

Hermione snorted. “No one would want a killjoy bookworm to be his Valentine, I assure you that. I mean... the thought is nice and all but... I’d rather stick to my books than risk my trust on something unstable like love. Books never let you down. They’re always there... they don’t hurt you or... or... lead you on and in the end just... leave you to cry.”

The arm around her tightened. “No one will ever hurt you like Krum did anymore. Not while I’m here.” A slight pause. “I will never ever let you down.”

At his words, she turned to look at him. His face was so expressionless but his eyes... they were turbulent with emotion. The light from the fire reflected in them. She was seeing him differently now, not as the best friend she had always thought he was, but as the knight in shining armor she never knew was there.

The ambiance from the fire and the feeling of his arms around her was making her heart thud faster. What was this? Was this... oh my... do I LIKE Harry? No! It's just... the fire! Because... it's orange! And it's too hot! Goodness, where on earth is my BRAIN?! That idea was simply... unthinkable! Forbidden!

And yet... it seemed like the most logical thing in the world. And Hermione exulted in logic.

“And I don’t think you’re a killjoy bookworm...” he continued. His face suddenly turned pink and he lowered his eyes shyly before fixing her with their piercing honesty once more. “I think you’re a very beautiful person, inside and out. You’re bright, witty and determined. Sure, you tend to scream a lot more than the normal individual, but I’m used to it.” He bit his lip and shrugged. “I’m sorry; I’m not very good at waxing poetry...”

Hermione shook her head numbly. “No it’s quite alright.” A smile slowly spread onto her face. “You really think so, Harry?”

He smiled. And that answered her question immediately.

They were jolted by the newly added grandfather clock in the Common Room. They watched the little witch fly around the clock twelve times before reentering the small door in the middle of the clock face.

It was February the fourteenth. Valentine's Day. The most horrible day of her life. But somehow… being here with Harry… didn't seem so horrible. In fact, it felt almost… romantic. Ick! Romantic?! How she hated that illogical, impulsive adjective. But Harry here was making her doubt every little outburst she had about the day. Oh what the hell! This was driving her barmy!

“Happy Valentine’s Day Harry,” she whispered to him. He didn’t answer; he just looked at her. Then. Very carefully, he leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. Gently, softly. Her heart stopped. Oh my… now I'm really doubting every grain of sanity I have left… This will change everything you know… but… I think I want them to. Slowly, he pulled away and gave her a brilliant smile. “Hermione Granger, will you please be my Valentine?”

Hermione felt his arms encircle her fully, drawing her into a more intimate embrace. Her heart leapt. She snuggled into it and gave a happy sigh. Was this why everyone was so giggly and inattentive? She could see why now… she was even ENJOYING it. “Harry James Potter, you daft git, what do you think?”

He feigned innocence. “I don’t know. Assure me.”

She gave him a playful bop on the head before pressing her lips to his quickly. Maybe Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~