I initially wrote this piece for Valentine's Day 2011, but it wasn't ready to publish yet. It's just a bit of sexual humor and then some sexual tension thrown in there for fun. I'd like to think that I was good at both, but who knows? Oh wait, you guys do :) Please review and let me know what you think.
And I feel compelled to leave a warning here. Warning: undertones of sex in this fic. Read if you care for that sort of thing.
And another obligation: The characters are not mine. The concept has probably been done before in the infinite world of fanfiction. But typing this up was all me. All me :)
"Why should I care what day it is? It's just some stupid Muggle holiday."
Hermione raised one eyebrow, an amused look on her face. "Oh really, Malfoy? I would have expected an elite Pureblood like you to have known the Wizarding roots of the holiday."
Draco glared at her for the sarcasm he heard in her voice. It had been more than a year since he had even spoken of his blood prejudices, yet the witch in front of him still taunted him at every chance. He said nothing of it, though, and continued to sit at the bar in silence. Hermione took it as an allowance for her to keep speaking.
"Actually, I hadn't known about it until only a few years ago, when Ginny told me the wizard's legend.
Apparently, some 1700 years ago, there was a wizard whose name was Valentinus. He was your average wizard, but he was very talented with his wand."
Draco chuckled. "Your average 4th century wizard," he mimicked. "I assume that means he lived on a farm with his livestock and milked cows for a living. And if it's Weaselette who said that he was good with his wand... Well, I don't think she was referring to some sorry twig that he snapped of a tree to wave around, Granger." He smirked at her as he lifted his glass of firewhiskey to his mouth.
Hermione was about to roll her eyes at his all too expected innuendo, when a light bulb went off in her head and her mouth formed a small 'o'. "That would explain so much," she mused to herself.
"Care to share, Granger?"
She looked back at him. "That actually makes sense, Malfoy.
So Valentinus was your average incompetent 4th century wizard who was good with his wand. And his abilities with his wand had all the women in the neighbouring villages, married woman and maidens alike, after him. It didn't help that he had demonstrated his abilities with his wand to many women already, and it made him very popular."
Hermione broke off and shook her head. "I can't believe Ginerva had me thinking this whole time that his wand was actually his wand."
"Well, Granger, those legends are always tweaked so they don't maim the impressionable minds of young children. She probably didn't even know what she was referring to."
"She was in fifth-year Malfoy." She sniffed. "And I was in sixth." Draco laughed as she knew he would.
"Alright then, Granger. Weaselette definitely knew what she was talking about. And it doesn't surprise me one bit that little, innocent you had no clue." He chuckled once more and downed the rest of his firewhiskey. Hermione remained quiet, and Draco could practically hear the cogs turning in her head from thinking to hard.
"Go on, then," he said quietly. His voice seemed to snap Hermione out of her reverie, and she continued her story.
"Valentinus and his wand were so popular by the time he was twenty-five, that all the men in the surrounding villages were extremely jealous. They went to their wives and tried to show off their own abilities with their wands, but the wives weren't impressed. The women banded together and declared that the men weren't worthy of their love and affection if they couldn't handle their wands like Valentinus could. They all left their homes and went to live on Valentinus' farmland."
Draco started laughing at this point and Hermione shot him a look for interrupting her tale. "He got himself a harem!" he choked out. Hermione couldn't help but crack a smile herself. "If you think that's amusing, then listen to this:
The men were so angry that Valentinus had stolen their women, that they went to the most powerful wizard they knew, an old man who lived by himself in a remote house in the forest. They petitioned him for help, and after hearing their story, he obliged. The old wizard lifted his arms to the sky and spelled a long incantation none of the men could understand.
'I have cursed Valentinus,' he said. 'You may return to your homes now, and expect your wives and daughters and sisters to come back to you soon.'
'But what curse have you cast?' demanded one man.
'I cursed him to have as much power in his wand as I have in mine.' The old wizard spoke with so much pride that the villagers thought he was boasting. They jeered at him and called him names and threatened to burn his house if their women hadn't returned. They left the forest and returned to their villages. And as they entered their homes, they found their wives and sisters and daughters all waiting patiently for their return. The men were amazed by the miracle, but none of them questioned it and they planned to move on with their lives.
But the man who had questioned the old wizard found himself curious once more. He asked his wife that very evening why the women had returned home. His wife told him, 'Valentinus was showing off his skill with his wand to the women, when suddenly it snapped! And no amount of effort we women put into mending it would work. Valentinus was so embarrassed that he ran into his hut, and we women decided that enough was enough and we returned home.'
And so the curious man told his neighbour, and soon all of the surrounding villages knew about Valentinus and his broken wand that no woman could repair. Valentinus became the laughing stock of the entire region, and in shame, he fled his farm. The villagers began to call him 'Shamed Valentinus' and they referred to the day as "The Shame of Valentinus". Over time, it melded with Muggle religion and customs and somehow got twisted into 'Saint Valentine'. And that is the wizard's legend of Valentine's Day."
Hermione finished with a smile and picked up own drink. Sipping slowly, she looked at Draco out of the corner of her eye, waiting expectantly for a comment. But Draco remained silent, his eyes focused on the empty glass in front of him, a small smirk playing on his features.
"Well..?" she prompted. Draco turned to look at her, his smirk firmly in place now.
"That has got to be the most unromantic story I've ever heard, Granger. I mean, really? A holiday exists to celebrate the fact that a man-whore couldn't get it up? People actually celebrate that?"
"I suppose the meaning behind has been skewed over centuries. The theme of love seems to have won out over the rest of the story."
"Nothing about that story has to do with love, Granger. It's all about sex. And jealously."
Hermione wrinkled her nose. "You have such pessimistic ideas, Malfoy. People are capable of love, you know. Love is very important. Love saved us all - "
"Yes, yes, Granger. Potter loved everyone and it was his love that saved us. How sweet." He rolled his eyes. "We should stop celebrating St. Valentine's and start worshipping St. Potter. He has his own legend all ready too." He paused as if recollecting something. "And if I remember correctly, didn't you break his wand? Snap it in half and everything?"
"And then he stole yours."
Draco pondered this for a moment before sniffing indignantly. "He did not steal my wand Granger! My wand is completely intact. Would you like me to prove it to you?"
"What are you talking – Oh. OH. No, Malfoy! I don't want to see your wand!"
"Are you sure Granger? I could demonstrate my special talents you know. I'd like to think I'm a lot more talented than a 4th century farmer."
"Keep it in your pants, Malfoy."
Draco chuckled, having successfully riled her up. "You sure, Granger? I promise no one's ever snapped my wand."
"In your dreams, Malfoy," she shot back, rolling her eyes.
"As in yours, Granger." He smirked at her. She glared back.
He stood up and held out his hand. "I'm heading back home Granger. Shall I drop you at your own abode?"
"As long as you keep your wand hidden at all times, Malfoy," she said, grudgingly placing her hand in his. To her surprise, he pulled her close to him. Their bodies were now flush against each other, his eyes bored into hers. He leaned his head down; his lips were mere millimetres from hers.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Granger."
I know the ending left you hanging. But I suppose you can decide what happens next. Leave me a review and let me know what you think Draco and Hermione do.