Written in memory and honour of Stefanie, 14, who died two days ago of a terminal brain tumor. She was a major Harry Potter fan and loved crackfics. She made me promise I'd write crack for her after she died, and here it is. We used to have a good laught at Valentine's Day, so I picked that as a subject. R.I.P. sweet girl.

A pillow in a green silk pillowcase flew across the girls' dormitories in the Slytherin dungeons and landed on the head of the girl sleeping in the last bed of the room. She let out a squeal and shot up, eyes wild and angry, looking around at her apparently totally asleep classmates. Not finding the guilty one right away, she raised her walnut wand and, with a twisted smirk on her face, waved it. Instantly, the pillows of the rest of the girls started banging them all on the head. Three woke up startled and whining, but the one occupying the bed directly next to her grabbed the pillow and started laughing.

"Ahaha, bless you, Black, you're always good value," the blonde with the curly hair said, and tried to sit back on the bewitched pillow that made her look like she was in a storm-struck boat.

"Very funny, Greengrass," Bellatrix hissed. "Next time I'll set the alarm clock for you, see if you like it then."

"Curses and dead cats flying over my head in the crack of dawn?" Flora Greengrass speculated. "No, thanks, I want to live. Anyway, I didn't wake you up specifically, I just thought you'd manage to wake the rest of the girls more effectively than me," she continued, for all the pureblooded children had long known of the hot-tempered and highly-skilled character of the daughter of the Black Family.

"All for the greater good, aren't you?" Bellatrix said darkly and pulled the bedcovers up her chin, placing the pillow over her eyes to protect them from sunlight.

But apparently she was the only one in the room who had found Flora's idea a bad one, because all the girls had gotten out of bed even chirpier than usual, and had started their morning routine with enthusiasm. They were comparing morning dresses and ribbons for the hair and arguing who'd be the first to observe herself in front of the mirror.

"Can you, please, be quiet?" Bella's angry voice came muffled from under the pillow. "What's wrong with all of you today?"

The whole room shook with giggles and then Flora decided to help Bellatrix out of her pathetic ignorance. She pulled the bedcovers back down and, not in the least frightened by the young aristocrat's murderous stare, she sang: "It's Valentine's Day, you genius!"

"Valentine's Day?" Bellatrix repeated, perplexed.

"And the Dark Lord chose you to train personally," Flora shook her head desperately, a slightly jealous sparkle in her eyes, "wonder how he'd react if he saw you now. What planet did you come from, girl? It's the day for couples, we celebrate our love and devotion to our partners." And she held up a teddy bear with a red heart that had the words "I LOVE YOU" written on it.

"Bellatrix is not a planet, it's a star. And that's just gross," commented Bellatrix, her nose screwed up delicately.

All the girls took a deeply wounded expression and started verbally attacking her at the same time.

"Because you couldn't recognize romance even if it was rubbed on your face-"

"Rabastan loves those teddy bears-"

"Black at name, black at heart-"

"Oh, come on, Bella, how come you haven't got a hot date with that gorgeous man who picks you up from the train station?" Flora pocked Bellatrix at the side with the stuffed toy teasingly.

"What? Tom? Why would I have a date with him?" said Bellatrix too quickly, her cheeks turning a furious crimson.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because he's your hot boyfriend? That's what boyfriends do, they take you on dates," Flora said, as if she were explaining something very simple to a very slow, very young child.

"That's what your boyfriends do, you mean," muttered the brunette under her breath, hoping wholeheartedly the pinkness would subside, because Bellatrix Black didn't blush- not ever. "Anyway, Riddle's not my… boyfriend. We're… colleagues," she improvised wildly. "And, for your information, I've never been on a date, nor did I ever want to. Teashops are way too crowded for my style, and snogging is just disgusting- especially in plain sight."

"Yeah, until that droolworthy god starts snogging you. Then you'll come back to me on your knees, apologizing profusely."

"I can totally see it happening. In my nightmares."

"Oh, come on," Flora said dismissively. "We all know you think the Dark Lord's the only worthy man on this earth, but that guy is like, the most handsome man I've ever seen, how can you resist not shagging him?"

Bellatrix took an expression suitable for an execution, which made Flora whiten and continue swiftly.

"Fine, you've got eyes only for the Dark Lord, is he at least good to look at?"

"The Dark Lord?" Bellatrix asked, all of a sudden amused. "Why, yes, I'd say that 'droolworthy god' is his only competitor, realistically speaking."

"Seriously? Hot and smart," Fiona sighed. "Well, then, tell him to come to one of our balls or something, we need to see him-"

At this moment, a falcon came sweeping through the window and left a small piece of parchment exactly on top of Bella's head. It didn't seem threatened by the awestruck girls that let out a massive 'wow', nor did it stay to be cuddled like a post-owl. It flew out of the window and the next moment it was gone out of sight.

"Told you," Flora trilled triumphantly. "Oh, you'll be singing a different song by tea time, Black." And with those words, she fastened a final bow on her curls, checked herself at the mirror and exited the room, leaving a completely confused Bellatrix looking at her lord's elegant handwriting forming a very short message: "The Three Broomsticks, 11p.m."


The Three Broomsticks were packed with students and couples enjoying romantic dates over cups of butterbeer and gilliwater. Voldemort, very politely, had requested a special, quieter room in the back of the shop, so that he and Bellatrix could have some privacy. Bellatrix suspected that the tiny room was actually a broom cupboard Madam Rosmerta had quickly cleaned up, just because her lord could be incredibly charming with those flashing crimson eyes.

The Dark Lord's presence always gave her two completely opposite reactions; stress, due to the realization of what an honour and mental challenge his company was, and calmness, because his mind, in contrast to her own, was perfectly well organized and solid. Only this time, after all that talk with Flora Greengrass, Bella couldn't take her mind off the 'date' part, and thus nothing close to calmness filled her overworked mind. Not that they were discussing anything that could be included in the average date, but then again, since when had any parts of their relationship been 'normal'? With the subject derailing her train of thoughts multiple times and shaking thoroughly her already poor concentration, she had managed to spill her Bloody Mary twice, and the Dark Lord's sharp eyes had noticed.

"-so, with some guidance from you, I believe Severus and Rabastan will be able to have their first raid at the- Bella, is something wrong?"

"Wrong, my Lord?" Bellatrix asked innocently. Even though she was blushing for the second time in the same day, she hadn't got any better at covering it up.

"You seem distracted," Voldemort stated quietly.

"My Lord, I assure you-"

"It was not a question," he intervened. "You have spilled your drink, have difficulty following the conversation and even missed the chance to mock me for ordering hot chocolate. Very ominous signs. So, tell me, what is the matter?"

Bellatrix would have liked to detect something more that mere intellectual curiosity behind his question, but was too preoccupied by fighting against her flushed cheeks to look.

"I was only wondering, my Lord, how would you call this, um, meeting?"

Voldemort blinked in surprise.

"A… meeting?" he tried, wondering where the hell the trick part of the question was.

"Well, obviously, but, I mean, like, could this classify as a… date, for example?" Bellatrix asked, eyes set on her drink.

"Are you all right, Bella?" frowned Voldemort, this time deep concern evident in his tone.

"Yes, very well, I was just having a conversation with Greengrass and she said that today is Valentine's Day, the day we celebrate our, ahem, relationships, so I was wondering whether-"

"Whether I've brought you Chocolate Cauldrons and a teddy bear?" asked Voldemort, a devilish smirk spreading on his white face.

Bellatrix nodded 'yes' spastically.

"And perhaps," Voldemort continued sadistically, "whether I have plans for dinner under the moonlight and then slow walks through the trees while I read to you out loud the poems of passion and flair I have composed in your name?"

"Ha," Bellatrix sniggered, relieved this time, realizing he was just yanking her wand. "I knew you'd never drop to that level. Okay, so you were saying about the boys, yes, I could-"

"But," Voldemort interrupted calmly, "the celebrations shouldn't find you that indifferent, my dear, especially you. Don't you know who Saint Valentine was for the Christian Church? He was tortured and killed today, and we celebrate that with spoilt chocolates and cheap soft toys."

Bellatrix stopped talking, and shot him an appraising look, before an evil smirk appeared on her young face.

"Hmm, sounds like my kind of party. Can I have some chocolate?"

A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think.