Once Upon a Valentine's

Valentine's Day.

Whoever thought to enslave the human race with frilly hearts and oversweet candy was sick. Brilliant, yes. But nonetheless, sick.

With all the chaos February 14th held, you almost expected Voldemort to show up in the Entry Hall screaming, "The sky is falling!" But before we're mauled by Chicken Little for infringing on his copyright (chickens these days), we'll get back to the story, shall we?

One person in particular was the most miserable of all. Now, we do not say this lightly- however, let it be known that we did not interview the entire world- plant, muggle and wizard alike- asking questions like: "If the world ended now, would you say it was: A) Predictable, B) Slightly unusual..."

Hermione Granger hated Valentine's Day more that any other human being in existence. Unless, of course, Voldemort could be considered a human being. Then, naturally, he would receive the much sought after title: THE Biggest Hater of Valentines Day to Date. Cue the applause.

But, since the subject of Voldemort's humanity, or rather un-humanity remains under subject of debate, and since the individual himself refrains from making comment- the title will be awarded to Hermione Granger by default.

As you might imagine, Hermione couldn't have been unhappier. About the date, mind you, not the title. No, she adored the title.

The pink streamers grated on her nerves and the heart themed food only served to irritate her more. The shy smiles exchanged all around made her want to pound the creator of Valentine's Day into the ground until he was good and ready to take his commercialism with him to the grave- where she would also happily send him...despite the fact that he was already quite dead. As this satisfaction was indeed denied to her, she was forced to settle for attacking some poor unsuspecting first years under the pretense of testing their reaction time. There was a war on, after all. Or maybe that would be considered a bad thing for a Prefect to do?

Oh- what is it that you ask? Why would such a seemingly sweet, well-mannered girl do such rude and- erm...not sweet things? Ah, actually we have no idea what happened. We're not even quite sure that anything happened at all to make her so... unagreeable.

All we are aware of is that Hermione has always hated being alone. She hated the sort of doomed weight that settle in her belly when she saw Ron cuddling (read: snogging) Lavender, or Cho stalking Harry.

Everyone seemed to have someone. For goodness sake, even Draco Malfoy had an entire fan club lusting after him. Why, only heaven knows (and knows quite well, thank-you-very-much.)

"Oi. 'Mione. All right there?"

Startled out of her thoughts (Doom! Doom!), Hermione forced a smile at Ron that disappointingly came across a weak grimace.

"Yes. I think I might have eaten a bad heart- well, thing..."

Looking at the table with his brow furrowed, Ron muttered to himself, "Why in the bloody hell did it have to be the same shape? Merlin, I can't tell the chicken from the treacle tart. I'll tell you one thing though...they have it in for us, they do."

"Oh! Is there chicken?" Ginny piled it on her plate and...fed it to Seamus. Hermione rather felt like murdering something. Or someone really- just because the little tart had grown some womanly parts over the holidays the boys were jumping all over her! No, Hermione was not jealous...

As she vented, more roasted chicken miraculously appeared. In truth, it was not chicken, but turkey cleverly disguised as such. Those devious house elves... but Ron would uncover their evil plot!

"Won-Won!" Seeing as Lavender had become miffed at his lapse in attention, Ron did the honorable thing and sacrificed his evil-plot-detecting skills in favor of strawberry lip gloss.

Turning her head away disgusted at their nearly one track minds, Hermione stood abruptly.

"I'll see you all in the common room."

"I'll come with you."

"No, Harry. It's all right-"

He cut her off with his hand, waving it emphatically. Hermione thought he looked a bit green.

"I'm done anyway. Let's go."

~~~~~~~~~~

Peeves cackled; Filch shouted; Mrs. Norris meowed and hacked up a hairball.

Oh- sorry, wrong scene.

~~~~~~~~~~

Silence.

Not the lovely peaceful kind, mind you. Rather the sort that you wished you could drop dead during so as to escape the awkwardness. Naturally, such a silence allows for the assumption of something having gone horribly, horribly wrong.

Hermione could feel a drop of sweat make its merry way down her back. Perhaps returning Harry's heartfelt concern with the frustrated remark of something along the lines of: "Honestly, Harry! I'm alone- I'll end up a spinster with only Crookshanks for company! I'll be an OLD MAID!" wasn't the greatest idea she'd ever had?

Breathing heavily, Hermione fingered a strand of loose hair. "I'll just go now."

She had gotten a good 10 feet before Harry came back to his senses.

"I don't think so."

"Harry, let me go."

"No."

"Please."

"Not a chance."

"Ah."

"Is that what this is all about?"

"What?"

"Hermione..." He started to laugh.

"..." Of all the nerve!

"Don't be daft, Hermione."

"What? My fears are perfectly well-"

But unfortunately, her well thought out arguments were silenced...with his lips. A rather effective way now that she considered it. But that was beside the point.

"You've got me," he whispered. He then proceeded to thoroughly kiss her for the second time.

Suddenly Valentine's Day didn't seem so bad. Though she still didn't like it. No, not at all.