Reasons for Hating Valentine's Day

A/N: Okay, here's my contribution for Valentine's Day. I wanted to do something nice, happy, funny, and a little fluffy. Part of me doesn't know why, just to have fun. The other part to prove I'm not a sadistic @*&#. Believe it or not, I am the same guy who does the Re-Awakening story! Hehe, surprise, surprise! Like I say, I'm not a bad guy, just a good guy tormented by bad plots . . . or something like that. Anyway, tell me how I did!

Disclaimer: Hmm, if I slip the poison in her tea . . . whoops! Sorry, didn't see you there. What? Murder plots on J.K. Rowling's life? Never! Just because she owns the immensely popular and successful world of Harry Potter that I desperately want, doesn't mean I'd kill for it! *Looks left, then right* Well, okay, maybe just a little . . . All right, all right, enough babbling. On with the show!

Reasons to Hate Valentine's Day

Hermione Granger sat in her favorite chair near the fireplace in the Gryffindor Common Room; Crookshanks curled comfortably in her lap and her favorite copy of Hogwarts: A History in her hands. To anyone passing by, she looked like she was delved deep into her reading, so deep that she wouldn't have even noticed is someone set off a Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-Bang right under her.

However, Hermione wasn't actually reading. She was trying to, but was rather distracted. The current source of annoyance was a couple sitting not more than ten feet away from her, snogging each other as if they were some kind of perverted vampires, with hormone problems, no less! She snapped her book shut loudly, which had absolutely no effect on the otherwise engaged couple, but which startled a sleeping Crookshanks, who dashed off. Huffing loudly, Hermione stormed out of the Common Room. Normally, being the prefect that she was, she would have put an end to the public spectacle long ago, and perhaps even doled out some detentions; she had been known to do so before. The one thing stopping here was today's date: February 14, St. Valentine's Day. Ooh, how she detested this day!

“I'll go to the library,” Hermione said to herself. “The library is always peaceful, and Madam Pince surely would never allow such behavior!”

However, Hermione was sorely mistaken. As she walked into the library, she could see around half a dozen couples sitting at the tables, all in various stages of making out. Taking to the shelves, Hermione figure that she would find a nice, quiet, out-of-the-way place se could sit, read, and not be disturbed. Hermione was highly disappointed, therefore, when she discovered that half the school seemed to have beaten her there, although they didn't quite share in her noble intentions.

`Ugh! What is wrong with people? Can't they control themselves? They're in the library, for Merlin's sake!' Hermione thought as she spotted, for what had to have been the hundredth time that day, a couple immersing themselves in the books. Suddenly, the boy's hand reached down and squeezed the girl's butt, and the girl responded by letting out a soft moan. “Oh really!” Hermione huffed out as she quickly turned and stalked out of the library, blushing slightly.

`I know, I'll just go outside and find a nice spot near the lake! That'll be perfect! There's plenty of space outside; no need to bother anyone.' Hermione was soon to be found walking towards the Front Doors, bouncing slightly and wearing a small smile. As soon as she threw open the doors and stepped out into the bright sunshine, she stopped her stride mid-bounce, and her smile turned into a scowl so fast that anyone watching would have sworn they briefly saw two mouths instead of one. `Bloody . . . sodding . . .' Hermione let out a deep breath she had been holding, and stared toward the lake, her path blocked by dozens upon dozens of picnic blankets (though very little picnicking was actually being done). Further on, she could easily see a veritable ring of couples surrounding the water's edge. `Well, at least I know where the rest of the school is . . .'

Hermione turned and began walking back into the castle. `Looks like I've found something else to add to my list.' In her mind's eye, Hermione saw list she had been making all morning:

Hermione Granger's Reasons to Hate St. Valentine's Day

1. It always comes, every year

2. All the girls become chattering twits

3. People seem to loose control of all ration thought processes

4. Everyone has someone but me

In her mind she added another number to the list.

1. All the quiet, peaceful reading spots are being used for, that!

By this time, Hermione had wandered through the castle and found herself standing at the end of a very familiar corridor . . .

`Of course! Why didn't I think of it in the first place! The Room of Requirement!' As she sprinted toward the spot where she knew the door to be hidden, she saw that it was, at this point in time, not hidden. That was the last straw for Hermione. She stormed up to the door, grabbed the handle, and began to shout as she opened the door. “That's IT! I've had it! Ronald Weasley, if I find you in here snogging Luna again, I swear I'll . . .” But exactly what she was going to do flew right out the window as she walked in and saw, not Ron, but,

“Harry?” Hermione gulped. `Oh no, oh no, oh, crap!' You see, another reason that Hermione detested Valentine's Day lay in the be-speckled boy standing in front of her. Hermione Granger, the super-smart bookworm and top witch of her year, had a huge crush on Harry Potter, the sodding Boy-Who-Lived. Her best friend Harry Potter. “Er, um, s-sorry about that, Harry. I, well, um . . .” Hermione's voice died down, and she looked down at the floor, feeling extremely embarrassed.

“It's alright, Hermione. I could actually use some company right now, especially yours.” Hermione looked up and noticed that Harry looked like he had a lot on his mind, almost as if he was depressed.

“What's wrong, Harry? You look kind of down. Everything all right?” As she said this, Hermione walked over and sat down next to Harry on the couch the Room had provided. She looked around at the contents of the Room, and her guess about Harry being depressed, or at least having a lot of heavy thoughts on his mind, was proven correct. The room itself felt rather small, although exactly how big it was Hermione couldn't see because the only light came from a small fireplace situated directly in front of the couch. The couch, though soft and comfortable, was a depressing blackish-gray color, and she couldn't even begin to guess what color the walls were. Other than that, the room was bare.

Harry looked over at her, sighed, and said, “I'm just thinking. This time of the year always does that to me. Never really had any love in my life before. Sure, there's always my parents, but I can't remember them. The Dursleys made it their personal jobs to make sure I was never happy. Here, people have worshiped me, hated me, lampooned me, and then worshiped me again. I just don't know anymore.”

Hermione scooted over and gave Harry a hug, allowing herself a bit of self-indulgence. `Poor Harry, he really has had a hard life, and it hasn't been getting any easier. Oh, I wish I could just take away all his pain, his worries, his troubles.' Harry returned her hug, sending a small shiver down her spine. Resting his head on her shoulder, he whispered, “Thank you, Hermione.”

Hermione reluctantly pulled away, asking “For what, Harry?”

“For always being there, for being you. Without you, I'd be dead several times over. I guess I've always kind of taken you for granted, and the fact that you've always been there for me. I - when you were hurt at the Department of Mysteries (which I will forever apologize for), I almost lost it. I don't know what would have happened if you had died. That's when it hit me just how important you really are.”

Hermione's heart began to beat faster. Surely, he wasn't . . . he couldn't . . . could he? “What do you mean, Harry?” Hermione asked, waiting with baited breath for his answer. `Why should it matter how he answers, he'll never see me in that way.'

Harry looked away, at the fire. His face went slack, and it was clear he was taking a moment to recall memories. Slowly, he turned and faced her again before he began, “Hermione, loosing Sirius was hard. Incredibly hard. But, I've managed to put it behind me, to get over it, mostly thanks to your help.” Harry paused, reached out and clasped his hands around one of hers, all without breaking eye contact. “I was able to overcome his death, but I could never get over yours. If you were to die, I honestly believe that I would not be far in following. Hermione, you are my reason for living, for carrying on, and the reason I will defeat Voldemort.” Harry took a deep breath, almost as if he was preparing to take a huge jump. Hermione's heart was jack hammering now, and breathing was starting to become difficult. “Hermione, I love you.”

Hermione felt as if she could fly! Harry loved her! Harry loved her! Harry bloody Potter LOVED HER!!! Hermione was content to die a happy girl, right there on the spot. A moment later, she changed her mind. A moment later, Harry bent down and kissed her; lightly and gently on the lips. NOW she could die happy. After a few seconds, Harry pulled back slightly, looking a little worried. “Hermione . . .” Harry began, but Hermione would have none of it.

“Shut up.” Hermione then wrapped one arm around his neck, pulled his head down and properly thanked him for his kiss with one of her own.

*****

As Hermione lay awake at night, trying to go to sleep, she couldn't help but think back on her day and smile. Harry loved her, and he was now hers! Suddenly, the image of Hermione's list floated up out of the back of her mind. She wiped it blank, hesitated, then began to imagine a new set of numbers. When she finished, she smiled, rolled over, and went to sleep, thinking of her new list:

Hermione Granger's Reasons to Hate St. Valentine's Day

1. It only comes once a year

2. I become a chattering twit

3. I can't seem to completely loose my control of my rational thought processes

4. Everyone has someone but me

5. All the best snogging spots are taken!

A/N: So, I hope you liked! Have a very special Valentine's Day filled full of love, while I sit over here in my corner all alone . . . (god I'm so pathetic, seventeen and haven't even had a girlfriend . . )

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