All right, all right, calm down. It's not another chapter of SotS, sorry. I got caught up in reading all these Valentine's Day fics, and since I hate the holiday oh so much, I thought I'd join in. I was reading, and I noticed that most of these fics come from Hermione's point of view; which is the reason for my having lonely!Harry being the main focus of this story. Just a bit of angsty fluff for the soul, nothing else. Like all of my other non-novel length stories, this is a one shot, and will NOT be made longer.
I repeat, this is a one shot, and will not be any longer. I will be paddling people who ask me when the next chapter is coming out ;)
The title was inspired by the song, in case any of you were wondering. This story is simple, pure, unadulterated fluff. About 300% I'd say. Call the dentist in advance for an appointment, you're sure to need lots of fillings after this one. Enjoy!
Note: This is unbeta-ed. Please excuse any grammatical/spelling errors I may have made. Thank you for your time.
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It's The Most Miserable Time of the Year
Harry Potter lay in his four-poster bed while fully dressed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and sighed. He had woken up that morning and gotten dressed, before remembering what day it was and collapsing back onto his bed and drawing the curtains shut. On a normal day, getting back in bed and sighing usually wasn't part of the agenda. Of course, his days were almost never normal anymore what with the prophecy and constant death eater attacks, so this was a more frequent occurrence. However, even though most days weren't typical for Harry anymore, today was the one day he always dreaded the most since his 5th year.
Valentine's Day.
To be honest with himself, he didn't really dread the date with Cho in his fifth year, but he was certainly nervous about it beforehand. Looking back on it though, he realized (and most people agreed with him) that he should have dreaded it.
Sixth year was far worse. Hermione and Ron had just started dating a few weeks prior, and it was around then that he came to the conclusions that he had feelings for Hermione.
Strong ones.
Feelings that one should not have towards their best friend.
Tingly in the pants feelings.
It was when those feelings started that he tried to convince himself that he didn't like Hermione that way. The more he tried to push her away, the more he ended up caring about her. It was right before Valentine's Day that year that he figured out (or at least finally admitted to himself) that he was in love with her.
So it was with a troubled mind that he chose not to go into Hogsmeade that day, for fear of running into either Hermione, who, being his best friend and all, would insist that he spent the remainder of the day with herself and Ron (something that Harry knew his red-haired friend would not appreciate), or even worse, Cho, who would probably remind him of the terrible excuse of a date that they had the previous year.
Instead he sat miserably in his dorm, played wizard chess with Neville (whom he had lost to in three straight games, though not in as sound fashion as he would've to Ron), and, deciding he needed some space and time to relax, sought out the Room of Requirement, only to find the door already in existence. Having been named a prefect when Ron formally stepped down from the post, Harry already knew what it meant when the door to the Room of Requirement was already there, and more often than not it was a couple 'expressing their feelings' for each other. Not wanting to intrude (or being given a reminder of his non-existing relationship with Hermione), he knocked loudly, hoping that at least if anyone was in there they would have time to straighten themselves out before he entered. Therefore, it was to his surprise when a shaky, albeit familiar voice responded almost instantly.
"Come in."
He turned the brass knob of the old, worn door and entered to find none other than Luna Lovegood sitting on a Room-produced couch, crying silently with her back turned to him as she stared at a roaring fire, not unlike the one found in the Gryffindor common room.
"Luna?" Harry asked. "What's wrong?"
She turned around to see who had entered and let out a loud sniffle. It was obvious she had been there for a while; her eyes were red and puffy, and the tear streaks going down her cheeks were causing her makeup to run. '....Luna's wearing makeup? She never wears makeup...just like Hermione...'
"Oh...hello, Harry," she said softly, turning back to the fire. "I'm fine...I'm just a little
tired, that's all."
Harry didn't believe her for a second. For one, Luna never showed emotion. Usually, even when she was sad or troubled, her face and words always remained passive and stoic. He supposed it was years of being teased that helped give her such a hardened exterior, but then again it could just have been her lineage.
"Out of all the times you've told me that, this is one where you are most definitely not fine," said Harry, sitting down next to her. "What's wrong?"
"It's really okay," she said, dabbing her eyes with the sleeve of her robes. "I'm sure you don't want to hear about it, you probably have some wonderful girl who needs your company and attention."
"It's quite the opposite really," said Harry with a sigh. "There's a wonderful girl whom I would like to give my company and attention to, but she wants it from someone else." Luna sniffled but turned to look at him.
"I'm sure Hermione will come around," she said with a small smile.
"I doubt it, she seems really happy with Ron....how did you know I was talking about Hermione?" he asked, somewhat taken aback that Luna had known without him telling her.
"It's completely obvious that you're in love with her," Luna replied, reverting back to her normal, confident self. "Anyone who's not Hermione or completely oblivious can tell that."
"Ron can't tell."
"Harry," Luna said reprovingly. "Think about what you just said."
He considered her point for a moment before giving a small chuckle.
"I suppose you make a point," he acquiesced. "But that doesn't explain why you're here by yourself, crying your eyes out. Shouldn't you be off somewhere making a bloke stumble over his own words with your charm?"
"Charm?" Luna snorted. "Hardly. I'm Loony Lovegood, remember?"
"You didn't answer my question," Harry interrupted.
"No, I suppose I didn't," sighed Luna. "I happen to have the same problem as you, actually."
"Really?" Harry asked curiously. He had been much friendlier to Luna since the end of fifth year, and as a result was spending much more time with her, learning about her home life and what it was like to be Luna Lovegood, but he didn't know that she fancied anyone.
"I can't believe that you even know you're in love with Hermione," Luna said seriously. "You fall right into the 'completely oblivious' category, right alongside Ron."
"Erm..."
"I've fancied Ronald since last year," she said pointedly. "And I've been in love with him for about five months. And I've been making it so bloody obvious too! He's just too thick to see it!" she cried out in exasperation. Harry was startled by Luna's uncharacteristic use of strong words. "I even put on this stupid stuff today," she continued, vanishing her makeup with a flick of her wand. "He just ignored me in the hall when I tried to say hello. I looked like a damned cartoon."
In hindsight it made sense to him. She had been trying to get Ron to notice her for some time, Harry thought. All those greetings during breakfast in the great hall, asking to come along for Hogsmeade visits...Harry swore that she even used magic once for one of the trips to make certain parts of her body bigger.
"You know..." Harry said, this last thought having sparked an idea in his mind. "Maybe Ron doesn't want someone who's all dressed up and cartoon-like."
"What do you mean?" Luna asked, confused.
"Well, look at Hermione," said Harry, a wistful expression coming over his face. "Out of all the people in the world, she would be the last person to ever wear makeup or use spells to make...things...bigger." Luna's face reddened at having that little fact revealed. "She's plain. She doesn't need any of those things to make her look beautiful. Her hair doesn't need highlights or whatever all the other witches are using these days to look good. She doesn't need lipstick to help accentuate the fact that her lips are already an extremely lush shade of pink and extremely kissable. She doesn't need cover-up because her face always looks perfect no matter what shade of bright red she's blushing."
"Does she need breast enlargement spells, Harry?" asked Luna sarcastically, though it was with a small smile.
"Erm....I guess I got a little off topic there," he admitted, a blush of his own creeping up to his ears.
"Just a little."
"The point is, she's beautiful just the way she is," he said. "And you're just the same. Although I think Ron likes Hermione because he knows her better than any other girl, I think the fact that she's so beautifully simple helps."
"I'm not beautiful," said Luna looking away.
"You are, in your own right," Harry replied firmly. "Just let Ron see that for himself."
"Thank you, Harry," said Luna after a pause, extending her hand. Harry smiled and shook it. Shaking hands was a ritual that Harry and Luna had that replaced hugs. It was something that Luna had started and he always found it to be one of the more quirky things that he liked Luna as a friend for. "So what are we going to do about this?"
"Do about what?" Harry asked.
"Ron and I, and you and Hermione," she replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"What are you thinking of?" Harry asked, still not entirely sure where this was headed.
"Well, how about a plan where you help Ron notice me, and I help Hermione realise she loves you?"
"She doesn't love me," Harry replied.
"Fine, she doesn't," said Luna dismissively. "Will you do it anyway?"
"I'm not the kind of person who likes to be a home wrecker," said Harry.
"Oh, that won't matter," Luna replied. "They're going to break up in two weeks anyway."
There had been rumors flying around that Luna Lovegood was actually a gifted Seer, but Harry never passed judgement either way. Deciding that it couldn't hurt to see if she was right, he shrugged.
"All right. If, in two weeks, they've broken up, I'll help you," he said, causing Luna to smile.
She had proven to be correct. Two weeks later, Ron and Hermione had a minor (compared to some of their others) row, and decided it would be best if they broke things off. Harry and Luna had immediately implemented operation 'Get the Oblivious to not be Oblivious' and within three weeks Ron and Luna were happily dating.
The problem was, Hermione either had a stubborn streak to beat all, or she really didn't feel anything for Harry. Luna tried for months on end, even during the summer break to get Hermione to admit feelings toward Harry, but nothing came of it. When seventh year started, he told Luna to give up on it. It was obvious that Hermione felt nothing for him, so why bother wasting time and energy to try to convince her otherwise? 'Besides,' he reasoned, 'I want her to be happy. If being with someone else instead of me makes her happier, then she deserves that.'
It really was the most miserable time of the year.
"Mate?" Ron voice disturbed him from his Valentine's Day thoughts. "I'm leaving to go meet up with Luna now. You going to come along later in the day or do you want me to bring you back anything from Honeydukes?"
"I'm fine, Ron," Harry replied through his bed curtains. "Go on and have a good day."
"Thanks, mate," he said. "And I know this day will be tough on you. Just try not to feel too depressed about it."
Harry had long since admitted to Ron how he felt about Hermione, partly because he didn't want his best friend to be mad with him if Luna somehow helped himself and Hermione get together.
"I'll be fine," Harry lied. "Just enjoy yourselves."
"I'll see you later, then," said Ron. Harry heard the door to the dormitory open and close, before letting out another sigh. 'Dumbledore was right,' he thought. 'Unrequited love is a bitch.'
In an effort to help make Harry understand his potions teacher, Dumbledore had revealed to him that Snape once harbored feelings for Lily. Though thoroughly surprising and scaring Harry, he now understood how difficult it was to go through something like that, and almost felt a small amount of sympathy for the greasy git. Almost.
Deciding he needed to take his mind off things, Harry pulled back the curtains and swung his legs over the edge of his four-poster. The day, despite being mid-February, was gorgeous, and he quickly chose to fly around the grounds on his Firebolt to help pass the time. The rush of air always did good for his mind. Grabbing his gloves, wand, and broom, he opened the door to the dorm and closed it behind him before walking down to the common room.
Upon arriving there, he thought he had walked into a version of hell run by a woman. Although the common room was not overly hot in temperature, everything was either a shade of pink or red. Streamers with little floating hearts about them were hung from the ceiling, Valentine's Day decorations of all sorts were strung up about the room, even the fire was pink instead of its normal orange and red.
"I'm going to have to talk to Dobby about this," Harry muttered. He was halfway to the portrait hole when he noticed someone sitting on the couch, apparently deep in thought. Turning to see who it was, he was mildly surprised to discover that it was, in fact, Hermione.
He now had two options. One, he could sneak out of the common room as quietly as possible and try to avoid a conversation with the girl...woman who currently made him despise Valentine's Day more than any other, or two, he could go and find out why she looked so lost in her own mind. Despite his better judgement, curiosity won out in the end and he walked over to the couch.
"So how come you're not in Hogsmeade today?" he asked from about half a foot behind her. Hermione jumped about a foot in the air before whipping around to see who had startle her.
"Harry!" she exclaimed. "Don't do that! Why aren't you in Hogsmeade like everyone else?"
"If you weren't so lost in thought," he said, walking around the couch and sitting down on it next to her. "You'd know that I just asked you the same exact question."
"You didn't ask me the same question, you left out the 'like everyone else'," she said matter-of-factly.
"So you were paying attention," Harry replied with a grin.
"I was hoping you wouldn't notice me, so I stayed silent," said Hermione. "I didn't hear you sneak up on me."
"Oh," said Harry, visibly disappointed that she didn't want to be around him. "I...er...I guess I'll go then." He stood up and made to leave but Hermione stopped him.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean it like that."
"Then how did you mean it?" Harry asked, sitting back down.
"You still didn't answer my question as to why you're not in Hogsmeade," said Hermione.
"You didn't answer mine," Harry replied, not noticing that she had just successfully changed the topic.
"I just wasn't in the mood," she said.
"Shouldn't you be off somewhere making a bloke stumble over his own words with your charm?" Harry asked, purposely using the same words he had in his previous year with Luna.
"Charm?" Hermione asked skeptically. "Hardly." Harry did not fail to notice that she gave the exact same answer that Luna had, and that in turn put a thought in his head.
"You fancy someone, don't you?" he asked. Hermione's eyes widened at this, and he knew he hit the nail on the head. "I had this same conversation with Luna last year when she was pining away for Ron."
"Oh," said Hermione. "Well...um...yes, I suppose you could say I fancy someone."
Harry's heart fell three feet at hearing this.
"Who is it?" he asked in as cheerful a voice as he could muster up.
"I'd rather not say," said Hermione, reddening slightly.
"I think we're a bit old for secrets," Harry replied with a frown. "I did tell you a pretty large one of mine about a year ago."
"Shhhh!" Hermione said waving her hand at him. Ever since Harry had told her the prophecy, she always tried to get him to keep quiet about it in public, even if he never mentioned it directly. "I...I'm not really sure if I can tell you."
"Of course you can," said Harry, starting to get slightly frustrated. "Just open your mouth and let the words come out."
"Ugh, that's not what I mean and you know it," Hermione said in a frustrated voice.
"Then what do you mean?" Harry asked. "Because I don't know why it would be so tough to tell your best friend who you like."
"That's exactly why!" Hermione exclaimed. "I can't tell you because you're my best friend!"
It took a moment for her to realise what she said, but when she did her eyes widened and she clapped a hand over her mouth.
"Hermione -" Harry didn't have time to say anything else though, because she had just sprinted for the girls stairs and bounded up them two at a time. A few seconds later he heard a door slam in the distance.
'Why would she take off like that?,' Harry wondered. 'She can't tell me because I'm her best friend...' He sat and thought about it for a little while. 'There's something I'm missing here.'
Then suddenly Luna's voice came to him.
"You fall right into the 'completely oblivious' category, right alongside Ron."
"Me?" he asked the room aloud. "She likes...me?"
Quickly deciding that he needed to know the answer to this, he ran over to the girls staircase and shouted up it.
"Hermione! Can you please come down?!" he yelled. After waiting for about a minute, he realised that she wasn't going to come down, and he had no way to get up to her. Sighing he trudged back over to the couch and sat down next to his Firebolt.
"So much for that," he said absently picking up the broom. "I can't get up there because of those bloody stairs...wait a second." Suddenly an idea came to him, and holding onto his broom, he ran back over to the stairs and swung a leg over it. "Here goes nothing."
Slowly, he ascended about two feet into the air and flew up the staircase. About twenty stairs up, the familiar alarm went off and the stairs turned into a slide, but being on his broom, Harry was not affected. Smiling to himself for his ingenuity, he continued up until he reached the door that read 'Seventh Year Girls'. Deciding that it would be best to knock first, he did. However when no answer came, he supposed that Hermione must not have heard him over the wailing siren, and so he carefully opened the door, just in case she wasn't fully clothed.
She was, however, and she was lying face down on her bed sobbing. A frown coming to his face, Harry flew into the room and gently closed the door behind him before dismounting. As he walked over to her bed, the siren outside the dormitory went silent, which he was thankful for. Kneeling next to the bed, he gently put his hand on her shoulder.
"Go away, Lavender," Hermione said into the pillow. "I'm not in the mood to hear about who tried to get upstairs this time."
"I succeeded in my 'try' thank you very much," Harry said in a dignified voice. Hermione instantly turned to face him, eyes wide.
"Harry!" she exclaimed. "How did you get up here?!" he held up his firebolt for her to see and she groaned, burying her face in the pillow again. "You shouldn't have done that."
"Well I was worried and it seemed like a rather good idea," he said. "And it worked."
"Yes, well...I wanted to be left alone."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because I couldn't...can't stand the thought of you just rejecting me so easily," she said in a strained voice. The way her shoulders were shaking it was obvious to Harry that she was crying again.
"Why would you think I would reject you?" he asked.
"Because you're you!" she shouted though it was muffled. She turned to face him. "You could have your pick of any supermodel-bodied women in the world. Why would you want plain old me?"
"What I want to know," Harry said. "Is, if you like me, why did you not let Luna know anything about it whatsoever?"
"I didn't want anyone to know, and....wait. How did you know her pestering me about that all the time?"
"Well...I...erm..."
"Did you put Luna up to that?" Hermione asked.
"We both did," Harry replied. At her confused expression, he continued. "I agreed to try to help Ron notice her and she said she would try to make you lo-like me."
"You like me?" Hermione asked. "Why?"
"Because, despite what you just said, you're the only person who knows that I wouldn't want any supermodel-bodied woman who likes me for being Harry Potter. And all of them but one feel that way."
"And who's that?" she asked sullenly.
"You, obviously," Harry replied.
"I do not have a supermodel body," Hermione scoffed. "Quite the opposite, in fact."
"Actually, you're wrong," Harry said. "Not only are you the most gorgeous woman I've laid eyes, you have both a body and legs that could knock any normal man senseless."
Hermione's eyes brightened with what could only have been hope, and she stared at him for a moment before speaking.
"You really like me?" she asked, stunned.
"No," Harry replied after a moment of thought. Her face immediately fell and Harry could swear he almost heard her heart break. "I love you."
It took a minute for her head to register the words but when she did her jaw nearly hit the floor.
"Wha-what?"
"I. Love. You," he repeated. "Have for over a year. Or, at least, realised that I did for over a year. I think I may have been in love with you since the day I met you."
"I...I don't know what to say," Hermione admitted.
"You could say that you feel the same way," Harry asked, hope lacing his words.
"Oh, of course I love you!" she exclaimed in an exasperated voice. "How could I not after all these years?"
"Well, there was Ron last year," Harry said with a frown as he looked at the floor.
"Do you want to know why I dated him?" Hermione asked. Harry raised his gaze to meet hers. "He was the closest I thought I would ever come to being with you."
That was probably the last answer Harry expected to hear from her, and, if possible, his heart swelled even more for her. Never breaking eye contact with her, he leaned in slowly and captured her lips with his for the first time.
It was though a surge of electricity went through his body starting at where his flesh touched Hermione's. Every emotion he knew came forth as her lips parted and he felt her tongue run across his lower lip. Almost by instinct, he opened his mouth and felt her tongue contact his own. Sighing into the kiss, he brought his hand up to caress her cheek, only to feel her pull away, leaving him with an empty feeling inside his body that he hated.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, praying dearly that there wasn't.
"Well, your knees must be getting sore from kneeling on that hard floor," Hermione said with a slight smile. "Come here." Although slightly nervous that he was getting into Hermione's bed with her, he did, his apprehensive state leaving immediately once he looked into her eyes.
"I never thought this would happen," she said softly.
"I know," he replied. "I felt the exact same way.
"Think of all the time we could've had together," she said with a hint of sadness. Getting some of his confidence back, Harry put his hand until her chin and tilted her head until their eyes met.
"Then we should make up for it," he said with the first genuine smile he smiled in a long time.
"You know, up until now I hated Valentine's Day," Hermione said as she pressed her lips to his.
"So did I," Harry said into the kiss. "Merlin, so did I."
Harry decided then and there that he would spend every Valentine's Day from then on out thanking whatever gods were out there for what had just transpired. 'Funny,' he thought. 'Who would've thought I would go from despising February 14th to loving it in a matter of minutes?'
And at that point in time, Harry didn't think his heart could ever hold more love than what he felt for Hermione.
She proved him wrong about a week later.
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Got cavities yet? And by the way, YES, that last line does mean what you think it means. Anyway, no more from me for tonight. It's almost six in the morning and I really need some sleep. Thank you all for reading, and I hope you have a very miserable Valentine's Day! Just kidding, of course.
-G.S.