Pairing- Major- Draco/OC Minor- Harry/Ginny, Hermione/Ron
Timeline- Post Deathly-Hallows, pre-Graduation, pre-Epilogue
Summary- Valentines Day approaches and Harry has his plans finalized, but Draco has a mysterious piece of jewelry no one has ever seen before. Who is Draco's secret valentine?
"Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors. Did you know you're unlike any other? You'll always be my thunder." Thunder- Boys Like Girls
The snow fell in soft, downy flakes outside the Gryffindor common room. However, Harry could see no reason to pay attention to the falling little pieces of fluff that had begun to accumulate on the sill. February had always been Harry's favorite month. It was shorter than all months, but his favorite holiday was in this month.
Harry never used to like Valentines Day. It would just be another reminder of loves lost and loves that he royally fucked up. But with the immediate danger gone, Ginny was once again wrapped in his arms. Her long red hair was caught back in a ponytail as she dozed on Harry's shoulder. He played idly with her hair, a mirror of what Ron was doing with Hermione. She had a book propped on her thigh, but for once, Ron was reading over her shoulder. It seemed interesting enough.
Harry was feeling slightly stifled, so he moved Ginny off of him gently and tucked her back into the couch. He kissed her freckled cheek and made his way to the library, of all places. He could have gone to the Seventh Year lounge, but if Katt were there, he wouldn't be able to do any relaxing or anything of the sort. Plus, Malfoy was there all too often, watching as the other Seventh Year girls fawned over him.
Unfortunately, Malfoy was tucked into a corner in the library, his face in its normal sulky doleful pout. His blonde hair, recently shorn into several short layers until the point at the base of his neck just touched his shirt collar, was messy. His silver eyes were lidded in exhaustion. His ankle was crossed over his knee, his rear pushed to the very front of the seat, his lean arms stretched out in front of him. His wrists were bare save for some old scars.
The air of superiority that Malfoy always used to radiate seemed to have diminished recently. Though the cause was unknown, the change was evident, judging by his severe lack of opulent casual clothing and the fact he hadn't worn his hair in that damnable, sleek style in so long. Harry looked closer at the other boy's wrists—the scars there were a pale, puckered pink, crisscrossed on each pale wrist. They didn't look self-inflicted, but Harry never knew when it came to Malfoy.
Gray eyes met green ones as Malfoy's eyes rose from his work. He scowled at Harry, but the frown and the forlorn look that he always seemed to wear these days severely weakened the potency of it.
"Malfoy," Harry said, nodding curtly.
"Potter," Malfoy almost sighed.
"Something wrong?" Harry asked. He was asking Malfoy what his problem was? I must be out of my mind, he thought.
"Tomorrow's Valentine's Day," Malfoy sighed. "Or International Gag-Inducing Lovey-Dovey Couples-and-Lacey-Red-Hearts-Day. Either way, never a good time of year for me."
"Please," Harry scoffed.
"What?" Malfoy asked. Harry could almost hear the glower in his voice.
"You have girls throwing themselves at your feet so frequently, I'm surprised you would even want to make anything permanent."
A book slammed and a chair scraped noisily against the floor. Malfoy was livid with rage—that much was evident—as he stared Harry down; "You have no idea, Potter. You really have no idea."
With that, Malfoy stalked out without taking care of his books. Disturbed by the somewhat loud and recent, however brief, ruckus, Madame Pince ushered Harry out of the library curtly. She waved her wand at the books they hadn't taken care of and they flew to the shelves. Harry had no choice but to return to the common room.
The next day, the Great Hall looked like a great pink explosion. It was a Saturday, with no classes, so the couples were all making plans to "find" themselves alone. Harry quickly found Ginny and sidled in next to her at the table, presenting his gift to her with a kiss. Ron had gotten Hermione a beautiful and tasteful gold locket that she adored. Harry had gotten Ginny a little box of Chocolate Heart Truffles. Ginny hated jewelry and had told Harry that a big box of candy would do any day.
Malfoy seemed to be the only boy not wrapped around a girl. But there was an addition to the scarred wrists that had never been there before. As thin as yarn, a black wire was wrapped loosely around his wrist three times and tied off at a knot on the inside of the wrist. Hanging from the bottom was a tiny silver heart charm.
Harry's eyes widened. Never had Malfoy shown enough affection for a girl to even hold hands in public, let alone wear a token of her affection in return. He turned his wrist slightly towards himself. It was subtle, but Harry knew that face well enough to know that slight blush and the gooey smile that was itching to come out.
"Hey," Harry nudged Hermione as she gazed lovingly after a retreating Ron. "Malfoy's got a secret Valentine!"
"Harry, I knew he would have a girl this year," Hermione said scathingly. "He has one every year."
"Not since Voldemort!" Harry countered. Hermione cringed a little. The name being tabooed for some time had certainly given her a reason to fear. "He's been downright miserable and now he's practically glowing!"
"Why do you care?" Hermione asked. "I thought we were over this exceedingly unhealthy infatuation with everything Malfoy does."
Harry shrugged and went to look at Malfoy one last time. He was gone. Most of the young couples had begun to filter out, leaving the hall two-by-two. The only reason Harry noticed her—a pretty redhead from the Ravenclaw table, with a curiously familiar shade of green eyes—was because she left alone.
Ginny kissed Harry quickly before rushing to grab their jackets and scarves to go to Hogsmeade. Harry leaned against a door jam and waited, but he was interrupted from his musings with a flick of red hair, a swirl of black robes, and a muffled giggle. The expression curiosity killed the cat escaped his mind while Harry investigated.
What met his eyes was more of a shock than he had come to expect. Malfoy… Malfoy was lounging on the floor, his cloak spread out beneath him. His back rested against the bookcase, his legs out long, his knees slightly bent, his long arms wrapped around a pretty girl nestled between his legs. Her dark red head was rested on his toned abdomen. One arm was tucked around him, but the other was running long fingers softly up Malfoy's arm. Her eyes were closed in contentment, her long legs sheathed in jeans, her waifishly thin form lost in masses of a gray sweatshirt with a green number screen-printed on the back. (Most likely Malfoy's Quidditch sweatshirt.) Malfoy pulled his long fingers through her dark red hair, twisting the long, wavy locks in his fingers. He mumbled something and slipped his long finger under her chin, raising her eyes to look at him.
"What?" she asked a little more clearly.
"I said you look beautiful with your hair like this," Malfoy said, the gooey smile threatening to make an appearance.
"Thank you, Draco," she said, resting her head on his chest. "Wait, like what, down?"
"Yeah," Malfoy said, sliding down a little more.
"I wear it down all the time," the girl said.
"Yeah, but you always straiten it," Malfoy said, his crystal-colored eyes smoldering. "What, you run out of potion?"
"Yeah," the girl sighed. "I guess, if you like it, then I can use the potions a little more sparingly."
Malfoy sighed and closed his eyes in contentment, memorizing the texture of the girl's hair with his fingers. She ran her fingers up his arm again, pausing on the wire with the heart charm on it.
"I'm glad you're wearing your present," she said. "I didn't have a lot of money this month. I thought you would think this is stupid."
"I've gotten expensive presents my whole life," Malfoy mused. "And they didn't mean much. This means more the me than any gift anyone has ever given me because I know it came from you, and that you put a lot of thought into it."
Their smiles suddenly became gooey. The girl looked up expectantly and Malfoy began to lean into her. Harry knew at this time that it had become much to private and he was beginning to make the flying leap into Peeping Tom-ville. He sighed once he was clear of the room—maybe Malfoy was human. The way he seemed so utterly at ease with the small, yet unnervingly familiar, redhead in his arms, Harry knew Malfoy was in love. It was possible that he and Malfoy could perhaps bridge their differences, now that Harry knew he was somewhat vulnerable and lovable, when the pretences and facades were off.
Then again… maybe not.