A/N: Hello, dear readers. We meet once again (well... kinda...). I'm sorry if it's not good. It's just some random creative crap I made at 3 in the morning. Ain't done yet. Two -shot or three shot, maybe.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is a genius. I am merely an amateur.

Love.

It's such a trivial matter. I don't get why people would do the impossible just to get the ones they love fall in love with them. It's stupid and impractical. I don't get all the googly-eyes and lovey-dovey stuff. Ugh, that's just gross. And let's not forget all the things they buy each other. They're just wasting money on such unnecessary things! That's so foolish!

And speaking of love, today's Valentine's Day.

Great, more mush coming up! Oh and don't forget a side dish of couples making out!

Eww, gross. Agh! I need those mentally-scarring images out of my head!

Oh dear. Is that Pansy Parkinson sucking Harry's face? Oh Merlin, I'm gonna throw up. Wait, wait, wait – Is that Ronald's hand on Lavander's bum? Oh dear me. It's coming out. My lunch... HOLD ON A SECOND. IS THAT GINNY STRADDLING BLAISE – BLAISE ZABINI? I'm not feeling so good...

Suddenly, she was on the run. Where the bloody hell is the nearest bathroom!

Ah! There it is!

As Hermione runs towards it, she crashes into another figure, resulting in her very graceful fall to the floor. It had so much impact that she swallowed the vomit she was going to puke out.

OH GROSS!

Her eyes opened wide and her mouth opened slightly before she screamed, "GROSS!"

"Oh Merlin, I feel more sick than before. Bloody hell dang it!"

"Oh dear me! I just heard the great Hermione Granger curse! The world must be ending!" came Draco Malfoy's mocking voice.

Hermione looked up. It really was Draco who she had bumped to. "What now, Malfoy?" she asked with a great air of annoyance. Ah great, could this day get any worse?

"Oh, nothing dear mudblood," he sneered. "Y'know, you don't need to get so cranky just because you don't have a date tonight. Or someone to spend this special Hearts' Day with."

Apparently, it did.

"...date tonight? What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Hermione asked, confused.

Malfoy gasped – though it was rather obvious that it was faked – and said, "Dear, dear, poor Hermione Granger didn't even know of the ball tonight. How pitiful. No wonder. No one asked you to accompany them, eh? I understand them. I mean, I'd rather take an enormous Blast-Ended Skrewt than take a filthy being like you, with your bushy hair all over the place and your boring brown eyes, plus you don't even have an amazing body to make up for your face. Filthy ugly mudblood."

Too harsh. It was all too harsh.

Forgetting completely what she was previously sick about, Hermione ran to the lake and didn't stop until she reached her destination. She was still feeling sick, but not the I-wanna-vomit kind of sick, but the oh-dear-me-maybe-malfoy-is-right-maybe-I-am-worse-than-a-skrewt-that-no-one-would-take-me-or-even-tell-me-about-the-blasted-ball kind of sick.

She then sat down on a bench and cried.

And cried. And cried. And cried.

Malfoy, you were a tad too harsh.

A/N: Tsk, tsk, tsk, Malfoy. Too harsh, don't you think so? How was it? Review to keep me writing.