Valentine

Valentine

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, although if I did I wouldn't be writing fanfiction now would I? They are the sole property of J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, Bloomsbury Publishing, and Warner Bros.

A/N: My first attempt at something more lighthearted. I really needed something to bring up my mood, since I’m at a crappy place in my life right now. Feel free to comment and review. I’d love to hear what you all say.

Thanks to: The entire Wonky/HOAF crew for helping me get through the good times. BtB for getting me in a bad mood in the first place, which led to the writing of this. And my best friend, Christina for being an H/Hr fic fiend.

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Chapter One: Bollocks!

“Bollocks!” Harry shouted, throwing his wand across the room in frustration. He had his hands on his hips and was breathing heavily. Scattered along his four-poster bed were various bits of colored paper. A haphazard disaster was formed into what was presumably an innocent valentine.

A few minutes later after his lashing-out, the sound of hurried footsteps reverberated off of the spiral staircase. Harry jumped up quickly as if he had been electrocuted. He made to stash away the remnants. He stuffed a few scraps of paper and supplies in his bedside drawer. Heart beating rapidly, he was nearly about to stash the rest underneath his pillow, but at that moment, the door burst open.

“Harry…” Ron stopped. He started curiously at Harry with wide, protruding eyes and at the leftover valentine pieces being held in his arms. “What’s all this?” he asked, a grin growing upon his face as soon as he realized what Harry was carrying.

Harry rushed over to his bed and stuffed the pieces under his pillow. He straightened up to look at Ron and began twisting his hands behind his back nervously. “It’s nothing, really.”

The grin on Ron’s face grew even wider. “Come on, Harry. Do you really expect me to believe that? Honestly, you can tell me. Who is it for?”

“I told you, it’s nothing,” said Harry, who was obviously getting flustered. “I was just practicing some of those new spells for Flitwick.”

Ron was absorbed in mock pondering. “I don’t seem to remember Flitwick teaching us spells to help us create valentines,” he said very matter-of-factly. “And I’ve never seen you so worked up over homework that you would throw your wand across the room.” He pointed towards Harry’s wand, lying forgotten on the floor. “That kind of magic is something only a girl can do, mate.” Ron paused to let the words wash over Harry.

Harry blew air through his teeth, thinking silently for a moment. Should he tell him or should he not. “Sod it,” he muttered. “I was making a valentine…but it didn’t go over too well.”

“I’ll say, judging by the looks of this mess,” Ron smiled. “But, that’s what Hermione is good for!” He tapped Harry on the back consolingly. “She’s the brilliant one. Or you could ask Dean…he’s artsy.”

Harry’s heart fluttered at the sound of Hermione’s name. He gripped his stomach nervously. He couldn’t ask her for help with the valentine. She was the one that was going to receive it! He had already thought of using Dean and his artistic expertise. However, he felt that Hermione would be able to spot someone else’s handiwork a mile away. Harry wanted the valentine to come strictly for him.

“I think I’ll be fine on my own,” Harry lied. “I just have to tough it out, that’s all.”

Ron shrugged. “I guess you’re right. How hard could making a valentine be?” He looked around the room once more. His face turned a brilliant shade of scarlet. “Er-forget I said that. So who is it for?”

Harry remained silent and still has Ron continued to gaze at him absently. He looked down at his feet, determined to not make eye contact. Ron caught onto this tactic fairly quick.

“It’s not Cho again, is it?”

“Of course not.”

Ron thought for a moment. He began racking up the names of the entire female student body at Hogwarts one-by-one.

“Parvati?”

“No.”

“Lavender?”

“She’s dating Seamus, remember?”

“Oh yeah…” Ron suddenly mused. “Well, I’m going to make this list a bit shorter. Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? I’m getting impatient. Is it a Ravenclaw?”

“No.”

“Hufflepuff?”

“No.”

Ron’s face suddenly garnered a disgusted expression. “It’s not Slytherin, is it? If it is, I swear I’ll…”

“No!” Harry replied rather vehemently. After hearing this, he couldn’t shake the image of him giving the valentine to Pansy Parkinson. He shuddered.

“Well, I guess it’s a Gryffindor then,” stated Ron in mock puzzlement. “Just tell me, Harry! It would be much easier, because I’ll probably find out sooner or later anyway.”

Harry shook his head feverently. He had never been comfortable with sharing the details of his personal life (his love life, especially). “I suppose you’ll have to learn the hard way, because I’m not telling you.”

Ron groaned in exasperation. He began inching around the room, but Harry hardly took notice that he was sauntering ever closer to the bed. “Shall we go through the list one-by-one?”

“Or you could just give up,” Harry interjected hopefully.

Ron wagged a finger impatiently at him while still closing the gap between himself and valentine lodged underneath the pillow. “Oh, that’s not an option, I’m afraid.” He began to recite a list of names that he seemed to have memorized.

After ten minutes, Ron was down to just two girls. His sagging form was sitting atop Harry’s bed. Harry’s arms were crossed irritably as he paced around the room.

“And then there were two,” Ron muttered, a grin suppressing his face once again. “I think we can stop here, mate. I know who it is.”

Harry blinked in utter confusion. He stopped his incessant pacing. “You do?” he asked Ron curiously.

Ron threw his arms up excitedly. “Of course, I do. I’m not always terribly dense. I do notice things, you know. I’m happy for you two,” he added. “Although, you could have told me sooner.”

“I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable about it. I guess that was a mistake, since you seem to be fine with it. But, if I were you, I’d be a bit uncomfortable if my two best friends were dating.”

“Well…” Ron stopped suddenly, coming back to the harsh reality. For one brief moment, he had thought Harry was referring to Ginny. However, now he could see just how wrong he was. The valentine was for Hermione, their best friend and the girl he himself had been infatuated with since their forth year.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ron had known it all along. He had always noticed something special between them. And unbreakable bond, if you will. He felt has if his mind was ripping in two. Conflicted, was how he felt at that very moment. Half of him wanted to scream out loud and beat Harry to a bloody pulp, but the other half wanted to smile and be happy for Harry and Hermione.

“Hermione?” Ron asked weakly, his voice breaking slightly.

“Yes…”

Ron massaged his throat. “How long has this been going on?”

Harry looked down at his feet. “A few years,” he mumbled. “But, only a few days officially.” Listen, Ron, I can see that you’re upset about this. You have every right to be. But no one, with the exception of you at times, can understand me in the way that she does. It’s hard to explain, really.”

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Ron nodded slowly. “I want to be happy for you, Harry. Believe me, I do. But, I love her.”

“No you don’t, Ron.”

“Excuse me?” snapped Ron.

“You don’t love her,” stated Harry, still refusing to look Ron in the eye. “Not in the way that I do, at least. If you loved her, would you continue to do the things that you do? Would you continue to shamelessly flirt with other girls, or bicker incessantly with her?”

Ron sat there contemplating Harry’s words. He could feel a lump rising up in the back of his throat. What Harry had said made perfect sense, but he was too stubborn to want to fully accept it. “I support you two, Harry. But, it’s going to take a bit of time.” With that he picked himself off of the bed and strode over to the door. Without looking back at Harry, he opened the door at left the room silently.

Harry threw himself forcefully onto his now empty bed. He grabbed a pillow and pressed his face into it, screaming all of his frustrations out. Breathing deeply, he let go of the pillow and threw it across the room where his wand lay. “Bullocks!”

A/N: Ok ok…it’s not as lighthearted as I would have hoped. But, it does get more so in later chapters. Now, on to Chapter 2!

Valentine

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, although if I did I wouldn't be writing fanfiction now would I? They are the sole property of J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, Bloomsbury Publishing, and Warner Bros.

A/N: My first attempt at something more lighthearted. I really needed something to bring up my mood, since I’m at a crappy place in my life right now. Feel free to comment and review. I’d love to hear what you all say.

Thanks to: The entire Wonky/HOAF crew for helping me get through the good times. BtB for getting me in a bad mood in the first place, which led to the writing of this. And my best friend, Christina for being an H/Hr fic fiend. Oh, and Jere for listening to my ranting and raving. And ALL of my friends, actually. Nitya, for inspiring part of this plot bunny and for writing such amazing poems.

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Chapter Two: Butterflies

The dreaded Valentine’s Day came a week later, much to the displeasure of Harry, who was still ashamed of hideous valentine that he was about to give. He didn’t even want to dwell on the day of love. How could he expect to give something so horrid to a girl he thought was beautiful in her own extraordinary way.

But the minute Harry walked into the Great Hall, the feeling of dread grew even worse. It was the most lurid thing that surpassed anything Lockhart could have achieved. The Great Hall was engulfed in pink haze. Gaudy pink and red heart confetti was falling freely from the enchanted ceiling. Over a dozen cupids were flying though the air, dropping valentines in front of unsuspecting students.

Harry looked over at Ron, who had entered the Great Hall with him. His face was scrunched up in disgust. He brushed confetti irritably from his hair and leaned in towards Harry. “McDiarmid,” he muttered.

McDiarmid was their latest sad excuse for a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Her demeanor was so overly flamboyant, that she made Lockhart look tame and normal. Her eccentricity often drove the students to the brink of insanity. She stood at the staff table directly at the front of the hall, waving her arms about dramatically with great gusto. Her appearance quickly resembled that of an overlarge stick of cotton candy.

“Grotesque, isn’t it?” said Ron, voicing everybody’s unspoken opinion. “If anything could put me off of Valentine’s Day forever, that certainly would.” The pair walked down the aisle and sat silently across from each other at the Gryffindor table.

Harry’s eyes roamed around the Great Hall, searching aimlessly for Hermione, but she had not arrived yet. He sagged just slightly and tapped his robes gently. He had placed the valentine inside the pocket of his robes, hoping to give it to her that morning. He continued to stare at the entrance of the hall for just one glimpse of bushy brown hair. With a sigh, he looked away and began shoveling bits of food onto his plate unenthusiastically.

He looked over at Ron, whose face was set uncharacteristically rigid and firm. He could imagine only too well how he must be feeling. For a day such as this, it’s tough to be alone and single. Fred and George once joked that it should be named Singles Awareness Day. Harry choked back a laugh as he remembered.

“Cheer up, Ron,” Harry said, trying to bolster his friend into a better mood.

“How can I cheer up!” Ron exclaimed. “I’m single on the worst, bloody day of the year. What part of that is supposed to cheer me up?”

Harry dropped his fork gently to his plate. “I know that this might be hard for you, Ron. But, I’m sure you’ll find your valentine soon enough.”

Ron rolled his eyes upwards. “Yeah, and how soon will that be?”

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but a small heart-shaped valentine was suddenly dropped by one of the floating cupids into Ron’s kippers and eggs. Ron gave an obscene gesture towards the cupid.

“Bloody hell!” shouted Ron. People in the Great Hall turned around sharply to see what the commotion was. His face turned a brilliant shade of red and he was reduced to slinking back in his chair so far that only his vivid red hair was visible. He gestured towards the valentine to Harry.

He took the hint and pulled the valentine from Ron’s breakfast. Predictably it was heart-shaped, but there was definitely something unusual about it. All around it, pictures of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. Harry’s mouth began forming into a wide smile. It didn’t take someone like Hermione to figure out who this particular valentine was from. He turned over the valentine to confirm his suspicions. And sure enough, in a glimmering script, stood the name Luna Lovegood as clear as a vile of Veritaserum.

Harry handed the valentine over to Ron, still smiling. Ron raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “What are you so smug about?”

“Turn over the valentine,” he stated simply. “Now, that has to be the recipient of the Best Timing award.”

Ron shakily turned over the valentine and nearly fell out of his chair. Once again, people in the Great Hall turned to see what was going on. Ron recovered miraculously by holding himself steady on the table. He glanced nervously towards the Ravenclaw table afraid of what he might see.

A dreamy Luna Lovegood sat there, twirling her long blond hair absentmindedly. Her wide blue eyes were gazing at Ron in such an expression that Ron felt stupid not figuring things out a bit sooner. It certainly would have helped after the electric shock that he received after reading her name upon the valentine. She suddenly drew out of her aura of dreaminess with such force that it nearly knocked her back. It was only then that she noticed him looking back at her. However, it wasn’t the usual petty annoyed look that he often gave her at times. This time is was more curious than calculating.

Ron turned back around in his seat, now facing Harry. “You know what, mate? I say Valentine’s Day isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

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Hermione awoke rather reluctantly than she would have liked that Valentine’s morning. There was no bright sun to help alleviate her mood. On the contrary, the sky was dull and dreary, covered with a multitude of dark clouds. She groaned loudly at the appearance of the clouds. Horrid weather always seemed to damper her mood. And today of all days!

She jumped out of bed and began to pull on her robes, not daring to speak to her fellow Gryffindor girls who happened to share a dorm with her. She knew better to speak to them when they were laughing and giggling wildly in a corner of the room. They were far to busy squealing over the valentines that they had just received to pay any attention towards her at all.

“Look!” exclaimed and exuberant Lavender Brown, shoving her valentine under Hermione’s nose. Hermione looked down at it and rolled her eyes. It was a typical valentine. Heart-shaped and trimmed with lace. But it was the little artistic, magical flair that caught her eye. She vaguely wondered if Dean had helped out Seamus out with the valentine.

“Isn’t beautiful?” she gushed, her face lit like a beacon. Parvati, holding up a similar valentine of her own, nodded in agreement. She eyed Hermione suspiciously.

“What about you, Hermione? Isn’t there a special someone? Don’t you have a valentine?”

“If I did, you two would be the first ones to know,” she muttered in a satirical tone of voice.

Parvati snorted. “No need to get your knickers in a bunch. We were only curious. Pity.” With that, she shrugged.

Hermione turned around to face her sharply. “Pity? What is that supposed to mean?”

Parvati rolled her eyes. “Oh, just forget about it,” she exclaimed vehemently with a dismissive wave of her hand. “You’re so uptight.” She silently gestured to Lavender and the pair of them left down the spiral staircase for breakfast.

Hermione continued to stare at the door for the longest time. She shook her head to and fro and plopped back onto her bad with a sigh. Am I really that uptight? A sweet, familiar voice filled her ears as if to respond to that very question. ‘Of course not…now get your arse down to the Great Hall.’

She grumbled and rolled off the side of the four-poster bed. Today was simply not going her way at all. Some days she felt as if she if she were living for the hours in which she spent her time with Harry. Just the sight of him at times was enough to lift even her darkest moods. Her heart lifted in spite of herself. She smiled slightly to herself at the promise of seeing him today, of all days.

Valentine’s Day: A day of love, lovers, and being loved. To be quite honest, Hermione wasn’t expecting much. Merely spending the day with him, as they do every day, was enough for her. That was her valentine. Nothing store-bought and predictable. You don’t need a piece of decorated paper, candy, or flowers to know that you’re loved. Somehow, just knowing that you are loved could be the greatest valentine that you could ever hope to receive. This was exactly what Hermione was feeling inside.

She could feel a small fluttering of butterflies within her stomach. Hermione learned that you didn’t have to be near the person to feel that special feeling. Simply thinking about them is enough to trigger those little butterflies. The first time this had happened she was caught in a mix of shock and surprise. It was the moment she learned of Harry’s feelings for another girl. Hermione was crushed by the thought, but everything turned out all right in the end. She sighed breathlessly to herself. Picking herself up, she exited the room and bounded down the spiral staircase, an extra bounce in her step. The sooner she saw Harry, the better.

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The fluttering in my stomach
that’s now starting to feel familiar
whenever I’m anywhere near you
or even when I’m not near you
but instead thinking of you

“Butterflies” by Nitya

A/N: Yes, I know it’s a short chapter. That’s entirely my fault. But, I do promise a long Chapter 3. Please write helpful or complimentary reviews.

Valentine

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, although if I did I wouldn't be writing fanfiction now would I? They are the sole property of J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, Bloomsbury Publishing, and Warner Bros.

A/N: blinks…I’m really amazed at all of the nice reviews that I received for the first two chapters. Believe me, I didn’t think this story was good enough to merit a review. Feel free to comment and review. I’d love to hear more things from you. By the way, this is the final concluding chapter of Valentine. Hope you enjoy it. And sorry for the late posting of this. I was hoping to have it all up before V-Day, but that didn’t work out.

Thanks to: The entire Wonky/HOAF crew for helping me get through the good times. BtC for getting me in a bad mood in the first place, which led to the writing of this. And my best friend, Christina for being an H/Hr fic fiend. Oh, and Jere for listening to my ranting and raving. And ALL of my friends, actually.

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Chapter Three: Love Is…

Love is something completely indescribable. It’s not something that can be defined simply, although Hermione had tried that several times. It’s a whiplashing whirlpool of emotions coursing through each and every nerve of your body, wrecking havoc upon every sensible thought in your mind. It may not be the most positive of analogies, but it sure was accurate. When their eyes locked in the Great Hall on the morning of St. Valentine’s Day, it could possibly be compared to a cosmic connection. It was something that only the two involved could notice. Everyone else that morning was busy gushing over their valentines or else scoffing at the disgusting display put on by Professor McDiarmid, who was now twirling about the room while playing lurid love songs on a small harp. Hermione hardly took notice of these things. It was only Harry, just Harry.

She wanted to run towards him with all her might, jump onto him, and start snogging him senseless, but she managed to restrain herself at the last moment. Hermione sauntered down the aisle, not unlike a bride walking towards her groom, closing the gap between her and Harry. The butterflies began to rise in her stomach once more and her cheeks were steadily becoming as red as the head of a Weasley.

Harry’s brilliant green eyes twinkled with delight as he saw her enter the Great Hall. He vaguely felt a familiar tug on his nerves, but hardly took notice of it. He tensed slightly as she sat down on his right, flashing a bright smile as she did so.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Harry,” she said calmly, trying to feign her nervousness.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he replied. He held her gaze for quite awhile until remarking, “What’s wrong? You look a bit flushed.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said a bit too quickly for it to be entirely true. “Just a bit of Valentine jitters.”

Ron looked up at the pair and grinned knowingly. Seeing them here together after learning the truth of their romantic developments, did something inside of him. It made him realize just how much they were right for each other. He found himself amazed that he didn’t figure it out much sooner. Looking back on the past 5 years, Ron could now identify several moments, which may have seemed insignificant at that time, that led up to this moment. They were small things that led to a much larger picture. He only wished that he could experience something as special as this with someone else.

He glanced over at the Ravenclaw table, hardly able to stop himself. Luna was dreamily drifting off to space, staring into nothingness. Ron sighed to himself. ‘Yeah, she’ll do,’ he thought.

“You know, I could always leave if you two lovebirds want me to?” Ron said, setting down his utensils with finality. He rose a bit out of his seat, fully expecting to leave them to their “love business” alone. To be quite honest, he wanted to leave. Best leave now before he loses the remainder of his breakfast while witnessing them snog inappropriately. He turned around; eyes catching sight of Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson do just that. Ron shuddered and nearly lost his breakfast right then and there. If anything could put somebody off of Valentine’s Day forever, that sight certainly would do the trick just fine.

“Only if you want you,” Harry said, catching onto Ron’s obvious discomfort.

“I think I ought to,” Ron nodded. He got up steadily from his seat. “Besides, I have some other business to attend to.” He threw a wink in Harry’s direction and grinned. Hermione was looking back and forth between them, wondering what on earth they were talking about.

“What was that about?” asked Hermione curiously.

“Oh, nothing,” said Harry, giving her a wide grin. “Only that Ron received a valentine a few moments ago from none other than Luna Lovegood.”

Hermione, who had been taking a large swig of pumpkin juice, choked. Patting her chest, she said, “Are you serious? You’re kidding, right?”

“Does it look like I’m kidding?”

She surveyed him for a few moments, determining whether he was playing around with her. Finally, she sat straight up and took another drink. “No, of course not. Well, this is a surprise.”

“You can’t tell me that you didn’t expect it to happen?” He placed an elbow on the table and swiveled in his seat to look directly. “You’re the smart one after all. Miss Know-It-All.” He playfully pinched her.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, tossing her hands on her hips indignantly. “I resent that attack on my character, Harry Potter. Shame on you!” She pointed a finger in his direction jokingly.

Harry’s face glowed with laughter. One of the many misconceived notions about Hermione Granger was that she was always serious and never had enough fun. How wrong that turned out to be. Sure, she worked and studied extremely hard to the point of exhaustion, but she knew when to put aside the quill. It was simply one of the many things he adored about her.

“Shame on me?” Harry questioned. “I’m not the one who sent 6 bloody valentines to Gilderoy Lockhart, thank you very much.” He crosses his arms over his chest smugly.

“That was 4 years ago!” Hermione retorted. She took a small bite of toast and continued. “And while we’re on the subject of Valentine disasters, need I remind you of your disastrous date with Cho Chang last year?” With this, she smiled slyly, knowing that she had him cornered and right where she wanted him.

Harry plopped his head down hard on the table. The result was a loud thud, that caused everyone in the vicinity to stare at him with wonder. He lifted his head and saw Hermione grinning wickedly at him. “Must you keep torturing me by bringing that up, Hermione?”

“I’m your girlfriend, Harry,” she commented, setting down her toast to talk to him. She leaned in closer to him. “Therefore, it’s my job to remind you of embarrassing escapades of your ex-girlfriends. Or in your case, it would be one ex. But, if you want me to stop, I’d gladly do so.”

“Yes, please,” said Harry, gladly appreciating the change of subject. How could he forget his first and last date with Ravenclaw Cho Chang? He was forcefully reminded of it, much to his disliking, every time he was face-to-face with her on the Quidditch pitch or else trying to avoid her in the hallways. She might be easy to avoid, but the memories certainly were not. She was his first love. You can never forget something like that no matter how hard you try.

As for Hermione, she couldn’t help but be glad that Harry resolved his crush with Cho, even though it did end less than amicably. It was during this relationship that Hermione began to realize where her true personal priorities lie. She could still feel the sharp pang of hurt within her when he described Cho kissing him under the mistletoe last Christmas. The ache in her heart that evening told the true story of her feelings. She had been pleased when their date was abruptly cut short and even more ecstatic when she had learned of Cho’s new romantic developments with Michael Corner. Hermione disliked how Harry had to divide his attention between two girls, but now she didn’t have to worry about such a thing. She hated to feel selfish, but she didn’t want to share him with another.

Abiding by Harry’s wishes, Hermione quickly changed the subject. “Eat up, Harry. You look terribly flushed.” She had just noticed all of the color draining from his face and he now stuck his hands firmly in his robe pockets.

“I’m not hungry,” he stated simply, picking up his fork and stabbing his food senselessly. ‘Just give her the bloody valentine,’ his mind snapped. ‘No, not now,’ the other half replied. ‘Bloody hell, I’m talking to myself.’

Hermione continued to study Harry curiously, narrowing her eyes a bit. Finally, she casually went back to her breakfast. “That’s unlike you,” she said softly, concern etched all over her voice. “Normally, you only get that way before a Quidditch match, or right before…oh.” She diverted her eyes off to the side, blushing furiously.

Harry noisily cleared his throat. “Er-Hermione?” he stammered. “ I want to talk to you…in private,” he hastily added to the end of his sentence.

“Alright,” she said, abandoning her meal and following Harry out of the Great Hall and up the staircase towards Gryffindor Tower. There was no better place to go, since everybody else were either eating breakfast or preparing elsewhere for their first class.

When they arrived inside the common room, Harry began pacing rather nervously to and fro. He kept his hand clamped over the valentine in his pockets, as if he were afraid that it might be lost. “I know it’s not much,” he said quietly, hardly able to look her in the eye, for his knees might give way at any given moment. “It’s the thought that counts, right?” He pulled out the valentine to show to her.

As disastrous as Harry thought his valentine was, Hermione didn’t think it was a monstrosity at all. On the contrary, she thought it was quite sweet. It was a bit rough around the edges, but that could be easily overlooked. Creativity and thoughtfulness was what truly shined in the valentine. Unlike most cards, Harry’s wasn’t heart-shaped. Hermione suspected that he wanted his to be set apart from the crowd; and indeed, it was. Small, moving pictures of hippogriffs decked with heart wreaths around their necks, were flying gracefully over the valentine. Hippogriffs always seem to hold a special place within their hearts ever since the pair had helped to rescue Sirius a few years ago from the jowls of the Ministry. Small touches of sentimentality here and there brought it to life. In the midst of all this was a poem, written in Harry’s own hand.

How much do I love you? You’re asking me.
My answer –
endlessly.
I love you endlessly.
No matter how much I try to deny it, only to find out that I can’t
and in fact that I don’t want to
I do.
You do so much for me –
and what’s my thanks?
Love. That’s all. And that’s enough.
More than enough.

All these little quirks and habits that only you have
make me love you even more.
You only look at me with that look of yours
trying very hard to hide a smile,
and my words are echoed to me then –
I’ll love you endlessly.

Hermione couldn’t help but draw a tear as she read the poem. It was unarguably the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for her. She brushed her hand across her face gently and looked up at Harry, who was startled to see tears on her face.

“Is it really that bad?” Harry asked uneasily. “I knew it was horrible. We can always burn the thing if that makes you feel better.”

“And why would I want to do a thing like that?” Hermione asked rhetorically. “I adore it, Harry. Sometimes you’re too sweet for your own good.” She grinned and Harry’s heart felt dramatically lighter than air.

“You really like it?” Harry questioned her curiously. “You’re not just saying that so you wouldn’t hurt my feelings, right?”

Hermione laughed. “I thought you knew me better than that by now. I’m an honest person, Harry. I tend to speak the truth. Besides, I wouldn’t lie about something like this. Now, I definitely think a ‘thank you’ is in order.”

She leaned over to him and kissed him gently on the cheek. They hadn’t quite yet moved to the point of kissing each other on the lips. They subconsciously felt that they ought to take things slow in the beginning. The pair had plenty of time to speed things up later, if they wish. But, not at the moment.

“Thank you, Harry.”

“For the valentine? You’re welcome.”

Hermione shook her head to and fro, her hair whipping around her face as she did so. “No, not just for the valentine. For everything. I can’t imagine spending a better Valentine’s Day with anybody else other than you.”

The mood within the common room shifted subtly. It was so subtle, that both of them hardly noticed a change in the winds at all. Their heads were bent close together from before, not moving away and inch, but growing even closer. Suddenly, their lips found each other’s and every thought flew out of Harry’s mind in a daze.

It wasn’t Harry’s first kiss, but it was certainly living up the expectations as being the most memorable thus far. Unlike his tryst with Cho Chang, this kiss was less desperate, less needing, and thankfully not as wet. Hermione’s eyes were fluttering as their kiss continued to linger. Harry could tell that Hermione was feeling the same exact emotions: warmth, love, comfort, and everything else in between. They both could have stayed there for an eternity, but found themselves abruptly interrupted by a noisy crowd of Gryffindors making their way into the common room. Harry and Hermione both broke off the kiss just in time. That saved a lot of awkward questioning and curious looks.

“I always knew there was something straining to get out behind that mysterious façade of yours,” Hermione said breathlessly, her heart still racing from the kiss. “Hope you have a few more of those tricks up your sleeve, because if any of them are like what just happened, I’ll be looking forward to many of those in the future.”

Harry laughed. “You can count on it.” Thank God for Valentine’s Day.

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A/N: Well, that was the final chapter of Valentine. Sorry about posting this last bit post-Vday, but that’s fine..right? Oh well, too late now. The poem from the valentine was an excerpt from the loffly and talented Nitya’s wonderful poem Endlessly. Like last time, I thought she deserved some recognition…especially since she constantly puts herself down!