The window sparkled with remains of frost and Draco sighed, his hand fisting through his striking blond hair. His eyes swept over the freezing pane, before he picked up his quill and let his gaze fall to the parchment in front of him.
Dear Lucius,
He grimaced at the dull black ink, before leaning back in his seat and turning his head to glance instead at the shelves filled with books after books, putting off writing the letter as long as he could.
Scratching out his lone line of progress, he chewed his lip anxiously.
Dear father
I am looking forward to visiting the Manor for our annual spring break.
Draco let out another muffled sigh, before trying to smooth down his hair and crumpling up the nearly blank parchment, deciding he'd reply last minute. Writing home wasn't his favourite past-time—not at all—but his father insisted on a monthly report as if he were an obedient employee rather than obedient son.
The library was incredibly silent and nearly empty, which was unusual for the prime-studying hour and almost eerie. However, Draco knew it was because mostly every student at Hogwarts was out with their beloved, locking lips in courtyards and sending out cliché poems without the even slightest trace of true emotion.
Valentine's Day had never been greatly anticipated by this particular young Malfoy.
He wasn't sure whether it was because of the sickly décor hanging around the school, the sloppy kisses being shared in corners of the hallway or because he was sitting alone in the library trying to write a letter to a less than loving father.
It was obviously the repulsive snogging taking place in every dingy corner of the halls. All the Hufflepuffs were especially giddy on the particular holiday, which only managed to disgust the young Slytherin even more.
Glancing at his watch, he rolled his eyes. It was only half past seven, which meant there was an entire evening to waste before life would return to normal and all the seemingly gushing couples would cease to speak to one another ever again.
His surprise was unimaginable as a school owl came rushing toward him, the sickliest fuchsia coloured envelope latched firmly in its beak. He almost feared it would be from Parkinson, even though the girl had finally found herself a boyfriend.
The owl didn't come to a stop, instead dropping the letter hurriedly and rushing out the window once more. Draco hid his disappointment that the many packages tied to the owl's loaded talons weren't for him, and snatched up the envelope, glancing at it suspiciously.
"Anonymous?" He said finally, turning it over to break the seal. "I hate secret admirers." Though, the anticipation in his eyes was unmistakable.
It wasn't anything special, Draco noted with dismay.
Dear Draco,
Please meet me at the fourth greenhouse entrance at 8PM sharp.
Your secret Admirer.
Folding the note carefully, Draco's eyes traveled over to the clock before he smiled slightly to himself, slipping the parchment into his robe pocket and standing up a little more enthusiastically than usual.
x.x.x.x
The evening air bit at his sensitive flesh, and Draco narrowed his eyes impatiently, staring at the note and making sure he was at the right place. He would never admit to anyone that he had dressed in his best navy blue robes and spent a little extra time on his hair. He'd especially never admit to anyone that he was feeling extremely excited, not completely sure whether it was because he had a secret admirer, or because he'd finally get to experience the cliché Valentine experience.
Running a gloved hand through his hair, he looked again at his watch, noticing it was five past eight already. He suddenly made a face, knowing all Slytherins were punctual and didn't even want to consider the idea of his "secret admirer" being some Hufflepuff first year who didn't quite understand the concept of house rivalry yet.
At ten past eight, he began to fidget, his ears growing red in the chilly wind and his previously beautiful hair sticking up in all possible directions because of the agitated habit of forcing his slender fingers through the strands every thirty seconds. Biting his lip, feeling foolish he shoved the note back into his pocket, rolling his eyes and trying not to feel disappointed.
It was then a silhouette appeared in the distance, and Draco had to fight a losing battle to keep the shy flush off his face. He wasn't usually so bashful, but even someone born to a family who had as many facades as articles of clothing were still human, and such an embarrassing yet anticipated moment was enough to make even Malfoy tint prettily.
Lowering his eyes slightly, biting his lip and trying to keep the smile from sliding onto his face, he inhaled sharply, before raising his head once more. His eyebrows furrowed at once while his mouth parted in confusion. For, the silhouette had suddenly duplicated, and two figures strode hastily toward him, their closeness indicated by the slight crunching of footsteps audible to the young blond.
"Who's there?" He said uncertainly, raising an eyebrow and holding onto the clasp of his cloak nervously.
A sudden snicker caught his attention, and he squinted his eyes, watching the figures approach quickly. Widening his eyes, Draco took a step forward, face flushing in embarrassment.
"Look, he actually came."
The weasel's voice rang out, traveling over the wind as he neared, his freckled face leering at Draco unattractively.
Harry stood by his side apprehensively, his face half hidden by his scarf has he adverted his gaze from Draco's. "Yeah." He muttered, his eyes finally reaching Draco's somewhat timidly.
"Do you really think there's anyone in this school that'd admire you, Malfoy?" Ron said, his grin wide as he nudged Harry, letting out a chuckle.
Draco rolled his eyes, his hand in his pocket as he slid his fingers over the parchment a bit longingly. "That's a bit rich coming from you," he said dryly, his cool mask in place once again, not letting the two Gryffindors see his slightly disheartened hope. "Even Granger finally came to her senses and left with Krum."
Ron bristled, his face growing a disgusting shade of red as his usual temper took over any rational thought – if such a thing existed within a Weasley – and he lunged for Malfoy, obviously at a lost for any other retort.
"I bet you thought someone was coming for you Malfoy," he said wickedly, clearly still sore about the Quidditch star stealing his supposed-to-be-girlfriend. They had gone to Australia during Winter Vacation, still not having returned which was rather odd as Granger had missed a number of lessons that she'd usually fret over.
"Sixteen and still pining over your 1st year love, Weasel?" The arms clutching at his shoulders tightened and Draco glared at the towering figure maliciously, before the weight proved to be too heavy and they toppled over in the snow, Draco instantly spluttering out indignant remarks about his cloak and the freezing weather as he had been the one to hit the snow.
That was what it took to initiate a barbaric fight as Ron threw the first punch, awkwardly hitting his shoulder though not very hard as the snow and tangle of limbs was preventing them from actually hurting each other. Furious still, however, Draco tried to push himself up, clawing at the boy above him.
Suddenly, the weight was lifted off his legs and Draco sighed in relief, sitting up and nursing his cramping limbs.
"You're the one that tricked him into coming, Ron, it's as much your fault as his—in fact, I think your brilliant plan was the whole cause of this."
"But you're not supposed to stand up for him, Harry," Ron said angrily, pulling himself from Harry's grasp. "You heard what he said about 'Mione… He's wicked! He deserved it—"
Harry rolled his eyes, looking back at Draco and taking a step back noticing the fiery stare directed at the both of them.
"No one deserves that kind of treatment, Ron. Especially not on… Valentines day…" He said unsure of himself, scratching the back of his neck a bit embarrassedly.
Draco let out an exasperated sigh, pulling himself up off the snow and ignoring Ron's furious footsteps as the redhead walked away, mumbling about how both his friends abandoned him. The blond only narrowed his eyes, brushing the snow off his cloak, finding his fingers brush over the parchment once more and finding his eyes sting slightly.
Fine, he had been somewhat happy he seemingly had a secret admirer.
Harry stared at him confusedly as he stood frozen in spot, his fingers still brushing across his pocket. Then, taking a step forward, he shoved both his hands in his pockets. "Malfoy?"
Draco snapped out of his short reverie, before sneering. "I, for one, am deeply grateful that you're not actually my secret admirer, Potter." He said, fixing his scarf and pulling back on one of the gloves that had slipped off during the tiny quarrel. "I was hoping she'd be some Slytherin beauty—maybe a fourth year pining away at a mature, sixth year Adonis like me. Instead I get a filthy Weasley and the ever chivalrous Scarhead."
"Hoping?" Harry said, catching his slight stumble. "Don't tell me you didn't see this coming?"
Draco flushed, crossing his arms and looking away haughtily. "It's not unfathomable that someone would be my secret admirer. I'm not some unkempt ogre like you."
"Actually," Harry said with a raised eyebrow. "I got plenty of valentine's." He narrowed his eyes a bit vengefully, a little sore that, even though it had been Ron's fault, the ferret had caused the two Gryffindors to fight. "All of them real, too."
Draco clenched his teeth. "That was a nasty trick… something a Slytherin would pull."
"I was surprised you didn't, to be honest." Harry said nonchalantly, pulling his hands out of his pockets and staring at them a bit sullenly. "Even a fake Valentine from you would've been nice."
He bravely looked up to see the Slytherin's reaction, and grimaced at the look of pure revulsion on the boy's face.
"You actually care for all this Valentine's Day bull?" He said, completely throwing Harry off, actually provoking the messy-haired youth to let out a confused "Huh?" That was definitely not the response that he had expected.
"No… not really." Harry said carefully, taking a few steps closer so he wouldn't have to talk as loud as he had been. "It's even worse now that we're older, it seems it's even a bigger deal now than it was with Gilderoy back in second year."
Draco nodded sharply, looking over to Harry briefly before turning back to the castle. His fingers smoothed over the rough parchment once again, and he refrained from biting his lip. "None of it's real. They'll never speak to each other again, it's like a one night of no strings attached romance."
Harry shrugged, a bit put off that the Slytherin had seemingly decided to ignore his previous comment. "It'd be nice though, I suppose… to feel loved, even if only for a night."
Draco silently agreed, before taking out the parchment and shoving it in Harry's face. "I believe this is yours."
Harry looked at it before turning to Draco apologetically. "I—er… I know I wrote it, but it was Ron's idea… and I'm sure he didn't even mean it, really—"
Draco shrugged carelessly before a long silence enveloped them and the boy stared at Harry curiously. "I'm afraid I don't send out Valentines, Potter." He said suddenly, breaking the surprisingly comfortable silence.
Harry looked over at Draco confused, eyebrows raised in questioning.
"So I can't send you a Valentine—fake or not." He said slowly, crossing his arms over his chest in a guarding motion, before turning back to the Gryffindor.
Harry smiled slightly. "What about that no-strings attached romance then?" He ventured, turning to face the blond shyly.
Draco looked at the folded parchment in Harry's hand, before shrugging. "That, I can comply with."
Harry bit his lip cautiously, before grasping Draco's shoulders with a feather-light touch and leaning in toward the Slytherin. Draco closed his eyes tightly, his inexperienced lips twitching as Harry's warm breath washed over them.
The kiss was everything Draco knew it would be. Inexperienced, desperate yet hesitant and messy. The typical Valentine's day snog.
However, it was missing one important element to fall under the Valentine Day stereotype:
It wasn't lacking in emotion.
x.x.x.x
A/N: Oh my! Bear with my writing :P I haven't written in ages and this was like the warm-up to hopefully another Valentine one-shot that'll be up before Wednesday. I'm so rusty and my inspiration is limited… Ah well, I hope you liked the concept behind this, if nothing else.