Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Ah, young love. It's a beautiful thing, really. But never has anyone felt more detached from love then young Harry Potter. Who is Harry Potter? Well, he's a young wizard boy with the weight of the world on his soldiers. Doesn't he deserve a little bit of romance in his life, or any feeling other than pain and suffering? That's very much what the young boy was thinking as he walked down the corridor towards Gryffindor Tower. Never has a boy been met with such tragedy, such sadness. At the age of one, the poor boy lost both his parents in the heinous crime committed by Lord Voldemort, an evil wizard such as the wizarding world had never seen before. Forced to live with his heavily prejudiced relatives, he was locked in a cupboard until the age of eleven. The day that he found out he was a wizard, he had hoped that his entire life would change for the better. In a way it did, but there were still too many painful experiences along the road to adulthood. Assassination attempts on his life. Friends being controlled by evil wizards. The death of Cedric. The death of…Sirius, the closest thing he had to family. Then suddenly he learns that he is the only one who can take down one of the most feared wizards in all of history. He, a fifteen year old boy.

Right now Harry felt nothing except fear and pain. He wished that there was something, someone who can take his mind off things, someone that can help him feel the love and happiness he had been waiting for. Little did he know, that someone was right under his nose, all along. But he was soon going to find out. When Harry finally reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, he found on the ground before it a little note. Scribbled in beautiful neat red handwriting, the words: To My Harry

"To my Harry?" said Harry to himself, thoroughly confused.

"Oh yes!" chirped the Fat Lady, fanning herself teasingly and looking flushed at the sight before her. "Someone came in just a little while ago and left the note!"

Harry blinked.

"W-who?" he sputtered, going a bit red himself.

"Now, it wouldn't be any fun if I told you, now would it?!" As Harry groaned the Fat Lady continued, "Go on now, open it, open it! I haven't got all day!"

Harry rolled his eyes. This didn't even have anything to do with her. But his curiosity was far outweighing any feelings of annoyance. Slowly he picked up the letter, opened it and read.

My Dearest,

You may have been wondering who in the world would be leaving a letter for you outside of your common room like this? Well, you won't have to look too far. I've been with you Harry. All this time, you've seen me, even talked to me, from time to time. And it's time I made my feelings for you official. But not like this, not in a letter, Harry. We must meet somewhere. Somewhere where I know we can be alone. I'm not allowed to do this but, at midnight tonight, go down to the Prefect Bathroom and wait for me to arrive. There, we will meet, and I promise you, it'll be worth your while (fancy a little swim?). The password is 'Ficklesnout'. Gosh, it even looks weird on paper, doesn't it? Well, wait for me there, Harry, and please don't disappoint me. I promise you, tonight will be the night where both our lives change forever.

Love,

Your Soon to be not-so Secret Admirer.

Now Harry's face was completely red. Immediately he looked up at the Fat Lady, his eyes slightly narrowed.

"Is this some sort of a joke?" he whispered breathlessly to her. The Fat Lady only laughed boyishly.

"Oh no, no it isn't love, I can assure you. The person showed up alone and was blushing quite hard while dropping the letter. It was so adorable. But I was told not to tell you much more than that. So, love, what will you do?"

Harry looked down at his toes. He couldn't believe it. Was it possible that someone really had a crush on him? It seemed like more than a crush. In fact, it seemed like…he couldn't say it. The 'L' word, it was too surreal, especially for someone like him who had been dealt with nothing but pain and sadness his entire life. But why was it so strange? Wasn't he considered…at least somewhat desirable? Ginny had a crush on him for a while. And he did go out with Cho, for some time. Could it be either one of them? No, no, Ginny had a new boyfriend and so did Cho. But still…that couldn't rule out…Suddenly, Harry almost smacked himself on the forehead, an act that would have greatly caused him a great deal of pain. Whoever his secret admirer was new the Prefect Password. Therefore…it had to have been a prefect. He knew that there were at least four prefects that he could have chosen from, but his mind immediately flew to one person: Hermione Granger.

Could it have been Hermione? No, no, it was ridiculous! Wasn't she…didn't she like Ron? He had always assumed that the two of them had something going on, but…who else could it be? Now that he thought of it, he wasn't sure that he much minded the idea of Hermione being his secret admirer. In fact, the more he thought of it, the more his heart sped up. He had started to notice, as the years went by, that Hermione was becoming more and more independent, more and more confident, and (he blushed) more and more beautiful. Now that he thought of it, he almost half hoped it was her.

"Ahem!" coughed the Fat Lady. Harry looked up. "I said so love, what will you do?"

Harry smiled, his face exuding defiance and excitement. "I'm gonna do it! I'm gonna go!!"

Harry, dawning his cloak, snuck out of the Gryffindor Common Room at the stroke of midnight. He had not seen Hermione there. Maybe she was out…preparing for their rendezvous? Harry blushed yet again at the thought. He had to remember to stop doing that when he was in front of her, at least. He had always felt that men looked less, well, manly when they were blushing. But no, he didn't need all that front. He would soon be with Hermione, after all. They were comfortable enough with each other not to have to dawn masks to deceive one another. He smiled, as he turned the corner and found himself to the Prefect Bathroom.

"Ficklesnout" he whispered and the door opened. Steeling himself, he walked in, only to find that he was alone. "Don't worry, Harry," he told himself. "She told you to wait. She'll be here." But it seemed that he would have to wait for quite some time. Soon ten minuets had passed, and still no secret admirer. Feelings of embarrassment and disappointment were soon starting to creep up inside of him. In order to keep those emotions from erupting from him like molten lava, he decided to take a nice warm bath. A bath would keep his mind off things. And if Hermione came while he was inside….he grinned devilishly. Well, she did mention something about a swim. They were both adults, after all, sixteen. There was nothing wrong with having… a little dip. Harry snickered, as many sixteen year olds do when they think of having…dips.

Quickly, he took off his clothes, folded them and placed them atop a counter and started pouring the water. When it had filled the entire tub, he jumped inside, making a big splash and began swimming a few laps. Suddenly, the door creaked. Even though he instinctively lowered himself into the water so that only his head showed, he was very excited to see who would show up through that door. And with all his heart he hoped, prayed - no, knew that he would finally confront his secret admirer, Her-

"MALFOY?!!" Harry screamed as Draco Malfoy came through the door. Draco looked as shocked as he was.

"What the hell are you doing, here, Potter?" he said.

Harry suddenly realized that he was a non-prefect, swimming naked in a prefects only bathtub.

"Uh…I'm certainly didn't sneak in illegally, if that's what you're insinuating, Malfoy?"

Draco looked at him and smirked. Then, he shrugged, took off his clothes and jumped inside the tub.

"What the hell are you, doing!?" cried Harry.

"I fancied a swim," Malfoy said simply. He grabbed a tube of liquid soap, sprayed it onto a sponge, and began washing himself. Then, he held the sponge up to Harry with a smile on his face. "Want me to do you? It's still soapy."

Harry was horrified. Had Malfoy gone mad!? They were sworn enemies, and yet there they were, completely naked in the prefect's bathtub. No, it wasn't possible. What the hell was going on!!? Suddenly, Harry heard the door creak again. Oh crap. This time it really was Hermione. If he didn't do something quick, she'd think - oh god, he couldn't even imagine what she would think if she saw the two of them there.

"Draco, how long can you hold your breath?"

"I don't know -"

"Too bad, do it."

He placed a hand on Draco's head and submerged him under the water. Then, the door opened, and in came Professor Snape.

"SNAPE!!!?" bellowed Harry, completely struck with disbelief.

"That's Professor Snape, Potter," the man said with a sneer.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Snape shrugged.

"Fancied a swim."

Then he took off his clothes and jumped inside the tub. Harry was mortified. This was a nightmare. It had to have been. Harry closed his eyes, completely convinced that when he opened them again, he'd be in the bathtub with Hermione. He opened his eyes again, but only when He felt a soapy hand rubbing his shoulders.

"What's wrong, boy?" said Snape from behind him. "You seem tense. Need a rub?"

Harry shrieked and moved away from Snape as fast as he could. As he did, Draco reemerged from the water, gasping for air.

"Oh, Snape!" he said when he saw their professor. "What are you doing here? Fancied a swim?"

"Sure did, my boy? Need a rub?"

"Please."

And Harry watched in horror as Snape began massaging Draco's shoulders.

"Wow…hey Harry, you'll want in on this. Feels great, it does," said Draco.

"DEAR GOD NO!!!" screamed Harry. "NO MORE!! I HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!"

But just then, the door started to open, and Harry froze. Just then, he saw the beautiful, willowy figure of-

"P-P-PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE!!!!?" screamed Harry.

Dumbledore smiled and shut the door behind him.

"Ah Harry, my lad, and how are you today? Draco, Severus, hello old boys."

"Hello Professor," they both said, and went back to their massage.

Harry could hardly feel his body as he watched Professor Dumbledore take off his clothes and hopped inside the tub.

"So, Harry, what brings you here?" said Draco as Snape continued to rub his shoulders.

At this point, Harry was close to tears. He felt so weak that he couldn't complain, or run. He just replied.

"I-I got a note telling me to come here," he said soberly. "A love note, from a secret admirer."

"Love notes, sounds disgusting," said Snape adding some ointment to Draco's shoulders for a better massage.

"I'm afraid, Harry that I once again have all the answers to the strange mystery that has presented itself before you," said Dumbledore.

"What do you mean?"

"It was me, Harry, all me. I wrote that note."

Harry's jaw dropped.

"What? But Professor, why?"

"Because I love you. Yes, Harry, my dear boy, I love you with all of my heart."

Silence. Except for Draco's mild groans.

"W-wha?"

"It's all true my love." Dumbledore swam close to Harry, and wrapped his 100 year old arms around his young, firm body. "Now how bout a shag?"

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" was the last thing he said before he ran out of the Prefect Bathroom, naked.

Hermione was sitting down on the Gryffindor couch the next morning, reading a book. Then suddenly she looked up and there was Harry. He looked slightly insane.

"Hello, Harry, what's wrong?"

"You…you…"

"What? Harry, you're scaring me!"

"Do you love me?!"

Hermione gasped and dropped her book. She began to blush wildly, feeling her heart beat madly in her chest. She stood up and looked Harry squarely in the eyes.

"God no, Harry. I can't believe that you would think such a thing. In fact, the very notion that I may actually be in love with you is so ridiculous, so terrifying, that it makes me sick to my stomach hearing it.

"But-"

"Harry, do you even realize how ugly you are? How miserable?"

"But-"

"And god, talk about emotional baggage. I mean, you should know all this Harry! You're a terrible excuse for a man! Such an ugly, ugly, stupid creature! In fact, looking at you makes me want to kick you in the balls."

Hermione shook her head sadly and sat back down, resuming her book. Harry stared at Hermione for a moment, as though expecting her to stand up and say that it was all a joke. He waited, and waited, and waited. Finally he sighed and turned around when suddenly he felt a delicate hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see Hermione's smiling face.

"Oh Hermione!" he said. "I knew that you were just joking!"

And then she kicked him in the balls.

"GAAARGARARHHHAH!" yelled Harry as he clutched his crotch in pain.

"No, I just forgot to actually kick you in the balls. You know, before when I said that looking at you makes me want to kick you in the balls. I forgot to actually do it. That's all."

And she continued reading her book.

The moral of the story - Harry's only secret admirer is pain.