Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or their world, they belong to JKR; or Valentine's Day for that matter (though I wouldn't mind owning that - perhaps then I could get rid of it entirely.. sigh, wishful thinking never got anyone anywhere, sadly). I just own the plot, words, etc.
And yes, you all guessed it - many of Hermione's thoughts in this happen to be identical to many of my own thoughts regarding this abominable holiday that begins in just two hours. Oh, and for those of you who have been following So Lost, I have not forgotten it, I actually have finished chapter two and am slowly beginning chapter three - it's just that my poor beta, Aoi Me (who worked on this story, too, btw- thanks babe!), happens to be swamped at the moment, and is having some trouble getting it back to me. It'll be out as soon as she gets it back to me, I promise! Don't lose hope - CONSTANT VIGILANCE!
Evil Starts with "V"
Has anyone ever noticed how many negative words begin with the letter "V"? Violence, Vindictive, Vain, Vile, Viper, Volatile, Voracious... Voldemort. These are just a few of them, though I have neglected to list the one word that has prompted these thoughts in the first place, the most horrible, terrifying, detestable, disgusting, awful, heinous, atrocious, dreaded, evil word in the English language: Valentine's Day.
Okay, so technically it's two words. Nonetheless, it is the most despicable and revolting holiday concept man, Muggle or Magical, has ever invented. Whatever nincompoop thought it up should be castrated and then hexed into the next universe. If only someone would kindly tell me who it was, and point me in the right direction, I'd be more than happy to do it myself.
The bloody day is tomorrow... on a Monday, no less. It couldn't at least be on the weekend, when I could avoid it and stay in bed with the curtains drawn all day, reading or doing something productive – as opposed to spending the last half hour being forced to help oversee the decoration of the castle. This was the first time I've ever regretted being made Head Girl.
It was pure torture, I'm telling you. Being made to watch over those idiotic fifth and sixth year prefects was ridiculous – the boys were standing around, refusing to do anything unless it was a direct order, pretending to be nonchalant, and the girls were giggling hysterically and turning everything pink, all the while throwing furtive glances at the boys. Thank Merlin I was never like that. The seventh year prefects were at least a little more mature – well, except Ron, of course. Honestly, that boy will never cease to amaze me – despite all that he, Harry, and I have been through over the years, he still acts like a five year old when it comes to things regarding emotions, relationships, or, Merlin forbid, girls (notice how he still manages to talk to me... apparently I don't fall under that category). All I did was ask him to string up some of the enchanted heart banners, and he got all sulky and refused; I had to practically threaten him with hexes to get him to help. Then he messed it all up, stupid boy; he kept turning around and looking to see if anyone was watching him – really, I was the only one there! – and the garlands got all tangled up and the hearts somehow started spewing blood all over the hallway. I ended up having to put them up alone and leaving Terry to supervise all the others for half an hour.
Plus Ron was acting very oddly. He kept giving me sideways glances, and opening his mouth to say something, but then promptly closing it whenever I looked at him. Really.
You know, I bet he wanted to ask my advice on what to get some bimbo from another house for Valentine's Day. Oh I bet it's that slut Hannah Abbott! I've seen him looking at her as she passes us in the hallways, or during Herbology...
Oh Merlin. Did I just think that? I did, didn't I... Damn, and I hadn't had any thoughts like that towards Ron in ages. I'm Head Girl, I should be able to control my own emotions and thoughts at least! Ugh, stupid Valentine's Day!
Hermione Granger was sitting in one of the warm, plushy couches in front of the roaring fire in the Gryffindor common room, on February 13th, consumed entirely by her thoughts. So much so, in fact, that she didn't notice that the object of most of her thoughts of any given day or time (not matter how much she tried to deny it) was walking over to her.
"Hermione, you okay?" Ron's deep voice startled our poor Miss Granger out of her holiday-hating stupor so much that she actually leaped a foot or so out of the couch and into the air.
Once she noticed who was talking to her, she sighed and retreated back into the couch's warmth. No! She thought furiously, burning holes in the fire with her glare. No, I am not bloody okay, because tomorrow is Valentine's Day, and the one guy I want to feel anything other than friendship towards me doesn't even know I'm a girl!
"I'm fine, Ronald."
Ron studied her face, which was resolutely facing the fire, and let a half-grin escape his lips before he frowned. "No you aren't. You never call me 'Ronald' unless you're upset about something. Granted, usually that something is me, but unless you're still upset about those hearts – which wasn't entirely my fault by the way, that fifth year prefect from Hufflepuff didn't help any! – I haven't done anything to make you mad recently. So, on with it, what's bothering you?"
Hermione flicked her gaze towards him briefly, just as he flounced onto the couch next to her. She rolled her eyes up to the ceiling before straightening in her seat and looking back into the fire. "Well, if you must know, I am simply not in a very good mood, because of... because. But, I have some extra Astronomy work I need to catch up on, so if you'll excuse me..." Abruptly she stood up, and made her way to the portrait hole, briskly stepping into the corridor and making her way towards the entrance hall.
Merlin, you can't even keep your head about you for five minutes around that boy, can you, Hermione? A sly little voice in her head chuckled. Oddly enough, it sounded somewhat like Ron. She sighed, and kept walking. That boy is like quicksand – the more I move to get away, the further in I'm pulled.
Before she got very far, she heard footsteps behind her, and a familiar voice calling, "Hermione, tell me what's really bothering you. C'mon, you know you can tell me anything!"
Oh really? Hermione thought wryly. So then I could tell you that I think I may be in love with you, my best friend, just as I could tell you if I wasn't sure I understood the last lesson in Potions? She chuckled audibly – as if either of those things would ever happen – continuing to walk quickly through the halls.
"What's so funny? You know, I really am a good listener; you just never try me out. You always go to Harry if you want to talk about something, or Ginny." The pout in Ron's voice was more than obvious, even though she hadn't looked at him once.
They were just outside the front doors as Hermione stopped in her tracks and motioned for Ron to keep up with her. He caught up, and they continued to walk towards the lake as Hermione tried not to look up into Ron's deep blue eyes, knowing that if she did, she would lose herself completely in them, especially since they were now outside in the shining moonlight.
"Oh Ron, I do tell you things, I just don't think that you, or anyone else for that matter, would understand this." Hermione sighed, and stopped walking – they were at the shore by now, and she finally turned to look him in the face. Oh that was a mistake... oh Merlin, I wish I could just keep looking into them forever...
"Hermione? Hello?" Ron waved his hand in front of her eyes to bring Hermione back to earth.
"Huh?" She had barely snapped back into reality before Ron began to talk again.
"I said, you won't know until you try me." At this, he plopped onto the grass next to the sandy shores of the moonlit lake, his crimson locks catching a moonbeam, making him look vaguely angelic.
Hermione chuckled inwardly at that thought, Ron, an angel? Right, and Snape is Cupid. She sat gracefully next to him, hugging her knees to her chest, and looked at him furtively. "Fine, I'll tell you. But you have to promise not to laugh."
Ron was suddenly very serious, as he turned his head slightly towards her and said, almost whispering, "I promise, I would never laugh at you."
Hermione sighed, and looked back out at the lake's peaceful waters, the exact opposite of her current state of mind. "I hate Valentine's Day."
Ron turned to her, perplexed. "Why? I thought all girls loved mushy holidays like that."
Ah, so he does know I'm a girl... albeit in a stereotypical, sexist way... but it's something at least.
"Well, for one, Mr. Weasley, I am not like 'all girls.' And for another – excuse me?" Hermione paused, convinced she heard Ron say something under his breath.
"Nothing."
Hermione frowned. She could have sworn she heard him say "And do I know it," whatever that meant. "Right... anyway, for another, it's just so overdone. I mean, look at all of the ridiculous decorations we just spent the past hour putting up! Plus all those silly Valentines people will be sending all over school tomorrow, disrupting classes. How ridiculous. Furthermore..." She paused. I can't do it... it's just too embarrassing. "Never mind, you don't want to hear this."
Ron let out an exasperated, "Oh for Merlin's sake, 'Mione! If I didn't want to know, would I be asking?"
Surprised at his outburst, Hermione nodded. Point taken. "Fine, fine. The real reason I hate Valentine's Day is because... it's just mean, and evil. And, well, because I'm always the girl who's left out of it. Every year, all the other girls get at least one Valentine, or rose, or something, and I never get anything. When I was younger I used to always hope that I would get something, and nothing ever came; it was exactly the same every year: I would get filled with hope, just as the Valentines were being delivered, and then nothing would ever get delivered to me. I'm never noticed on Valentine's day... it's just the evilest holiday of the year. Ugh, and it doesn't help that the guy I'm crazy about doesn't even-"
"There's a guy you're crazy about?" Ron was suddenly sitting more rigidly on the ground, and looking suspiciously at her.
Hermione could feel her face flushing – thank goodness it was too dark out for Ron to be able to tell. "Did I say that? I meant to say that all the guys here drive me crazy about... just... well, they drive me crazy!" She bit her lip, hoping that Ron would buy it.
He didn't say anything for a few minutes, and Hermione shifted uncomfortably in the silence that ensued.
"Right... so, you actually want someone to send you a rose, or a letter, or something?"
Only if it's you. She sighed. "No. ...It would be so public, and I know whoever it was wouldn't actually mean it, because chances are, I don't know him that well. I was... just stating a possible reason for hating Valentine's Day that I'm sure many other girls at school could understand." Back to lying through our teeth, are we?
Expecting Ron to call her on it, Hermione turned to him, prepared to argue her point – but all she saw was him, simply looking at her. The unusual thing about that look was the strange glint in his eyes that she just couldn't identify. "What are you staring at?"
Ron quickly averted his eyes, and refocused his gaze on the lake's shores. "Nothing."
Hermione's forehead creased slightly. "Oh..." Is it just me, or do I hear an echo out here?
After a couple minutes of fairly awkward silence, Ron smiled, and turned towards Hermione, patting her on the shoulder. "Well, don't worry about it so much, 'Mione. I'm sure tomorrow won't be as bad as you're expecting... though I have to agree with you about the decorations. They're a nightmare... did you see those hearts Colin was putting up outside the classrooms? They were spurting red glitter everywhere... though it was pretty funny, whenever he tried to get them to stop, he got a face full."
The two of them shared a quiet laugh, before Ron stood up and held his hand out to Hermione. "We'd better get back."
She smiled, and took his hand, letting him help her up. "I was thinking the same thing," escaped her lips, though she hadn't been thinking anything of the sort – all her present thoughts had been about staying with him, alone, as long as possible. "I have to patrol the corridors. Let's go."
As soon as she was standing, Ron dropped her hand, leaving her feeling quite disappointed as they headed back to the castle. They walked back to the Gryffindor common room in a companionable silence, both lost in their own thoughts.
When the reached the Fat Lady, Ron waved goodbye, and stepped through, leaving Hermione outside. Beginning her hour of lonesome patrolling, Hermione let herself become absorbed completely in her thoughts again. I wish he had said something before he went inside... I don't know what, just something else, anything else. I wish I could stop thinking about him... Ugh, curse Valentine's Day!
The next day came all too soon for Hermione, and as she stumbled out of her bed to use the loo, she spotted Lavender and Parvati already squealing over the outfits they were going to wear and who they wanted to get Valentines from. Rolling her eyes as she shut the door, Hermione groaned. This is going to be a very, very long day.
Hoping to pretend the day wasn't happening, Hermione did her best to protest it on principle by wearing very non-Valentine's Day colors, a dark blue sweater and khaki pants, under her normal school robes. She skipped breakfast, opting for a granola bar she kept in her bedside table for emergencies like missing her alarm or, in this case, trying to avoid the squealing and uncomfortable immaturity that would certainly be occupying most of the Great Hall this morning.
As Hermione headed towards her first class, Ancient Runes, she was glad it didn't have Ron or Harry in it – this gave her time to figure out her excuse for missing breakfast and figure out how she was going to make it through the day while spending as little time with other human beings as possible. To top it all off, while walking into class, she got spurted with one of the decorative, glitter-filled, charmed hearts that Ron had been describing last night, earning her a few laughs from classmates. She shot them a wry smile, and sat down in her seat, trying to get as much of the sparkly stuff off of her robes. Merlin, what else could go wrong?
Little was she to know that ten minutes into class, the appearance of a large group of owls would signify something else that was going to make her day much worse.
As the flock of birds flew in through the open window, Professor Vector cleared his throat, and sighed. "Ah yes. Class, I neglected to tell you that during the course of the day, owls will be flying around the school – through corridors and classrooms alike – delivering Valentines. I would ask that those of you who receive letters will please set them aside to look at later – and that includes you, Ms. Patil. Now, as I was saying about the rune for 'river'..."
Hermione watched the swarm of owls ebb and flow through the classroom, giving the letters to those special people who had admirers, or friends who cared enough to drop a friendly Valentine note. Though the logical part of her mind warned her not to get her hopes up – who would want to deliver me a Valentine? – Hermione couldn't help but follow their path through the classroom with her eyes, noting each person who got one. She also couldn't help but feel disappointed when the owls retreated the way they came, leaving her with a desk empty of anything except her text book and quill. Figures, I am Hermione 'the bookworm' after all. I shouldn't expect anything else.
Despite all her efforts to doing the contrary, during every one of the rest of her classes, whenever those magical birds would fly gracefully through the open windows of her classrooms, Hermione couldn't help but let her heart swell with just a little bit of hope, that maybe, for once, she wouldn't be left out. But every time, the birds would fly out again, again leaving her with no more than her notes and inkwell for company.
So absorbed was she in watching for what she knew wouldn't come, that Hermione never noticed that Ron (who was in the rest of her classes – along with Harry, of course) always quietly observed her avid attention shift from the classroom to the birds whenever they swept in, bringing with them both the happiness and sadness of countless teenagers that day.
By the end of the day, walking out of her last class (Potions – fantastic way to end a horrible day, eh?), Hermione could hardly notice that even Harry and Ron had received Valentines – on their arrival, both boys blushed bright red. Ron immediately handed his over to Harry, and then Hermione, to read, throwing it away the first chance he got – it was from Luna Lovegood, hoping that "all the love-dust in the air today wouldn't give him allergies." Harry, who had been just as embarrassed as Ron, refused to tell either of them who it was from, insisting that it didn't mean anything and that he was going to bin it (though he slipped it in his bag when he thought neither of them were looking, but Hermione wasn't the smartest – and most observant – witch in their year for nothing).
See, Hermione? You knew you wouldn't get a Valentine, but you got your hopes up anyway, and now look where you are: depressed and left with lots of homework. Her sad thoughts caught up to her in the library around three hours later, and a tear threatened to leak out of her otherwise guarded eyes. Furiously she blinked the droplets back – Hermione Granger does not cry in front of other people. She sighed, and looked around. The setting of her attempt at studying certainly wasn't helping her any – couples were huddled at the desks surrounding her, and various groups of immature third-years (and under) were giggling at the mysterious Valentine some girl got, and of course it was from that guy she likes, it's just too obvious...
Hermione slammed her Arithmancy textbook closed, and stood up. I can't take this anymore... I'll go see if Harry and Ron are back from Quidditch yet, they might at least be able to take my mind off of this horrible day. As she strode briskly back to the common room, her thoughts came to a screeching halt. WAIT, sitting with Ron won't help any! He and Harry might be able to amuse me for a short period of time, but remember: it's Ron. He'll just make everything worse. Right, that's it, I'm going up to my room to study.
Walking into the common room, Hermione quickly ascertained that Harry and Ron were, thank goodness, not back from Quidditch yet (or had already gone off to dinner without her), and it was quite safe to stay in the common room while everyone else was eating. Upon setting her work up, and getting into her Potions essay, Hermione sighed with relief at the peaceful, studious, and most importantly, silent, solitude she was able to immerse herself in. Thank Merlin, hopefully I'll be able to forget about this blasted holiday for an hour at least.
Apparently no one had ever told her the phrase "Don't count your chickens before they hatch," because only around twenty minutes later, her object of most distraction walked into the common room. Hermione glanced up to see who had entered, and upon seeing Ron, groaned inwardly before returning her eyes to her only half-finished paper.
As Ron hurried over to her, concern written all over his face, Hermione stood up and made to pack up her things, intending on moving to her room like she had planned on in the first place. "'Mione? Are you alright? You never came to dinner, Harry and I saved a seat for you... You look kind of pale, are-"
Hermione brusquely cut him off, "Yes, Ron, I'm alright. I just wasn't hungry, and I need to get as much studying done before my patrols as possible. I'll see you later, okay?" Please don't start with me today, I can't deal with fighting with you on top of all this!
Ron seemed to hear her thoughts, as he only frowned slightly and studied her face for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders. "Alright, I'll see you later, then."
Smiling, grateful that he didn't push things like he did the night before, Hermione picked up her bag, and walked up her stairs to settle at her desk and submerge herself in her homework.
Two hours later, Hermione set her quill down, satisfied that she had done a sufficient amount of homework to allow herself to begin her patrols a little early... after all, the faster she finished them, the faster she got back to her room, and the faster this awful day would end.
Glancing at her watch as she walked into the now full common room, Hermione realized that she was actually a little late in her patrols and not early as she had previously thought. Apparently she had gotten a little carried away with her Transfiguration essay... not surprising; it was one of her favorite subjects. Walking through the common room, she didn't notice that Ron's head snapped up as she passed, and he continued to follow her with his sapphire-blue eyes as she walked to the portrait hole, and then out into the corridor. He, too, checked his watch, before returning to the chess game he was playing with Harry, who chuckled at Ron's distraction.
Around an hour later, Hermione was almost done with her patrolling; it wasn't very exciting, though she did catch one couple trying to sneak into the prefects bathrooms. I certainly do not want to know what they were planning on attempting in there, she mused disgustedly as she sent them to their Head of House.
She sighed, trying to keep her mind as blank as possible as she walked these hallways she knew so well. Hermione always walked the same route every night, always at the same times – she was, naturally, a stickler for routine.
Unfortunately for her, something out there didn't seem to want her to have any peace and quiet, because just as she was starting to relax and wind down from this mind-numbingly long day, she imagined Ron's voice echoing through her head. Great, that's just what you need to think about now – the guy you're madly in love with. Wait a minute...
"Hermione!" Ron yelled after her as he ran to catch up.
Oh, right. Hermione plastered a confused look on her face over the sad one she had worn just a moment ago, as she turned to look at Ron, who was smiling bemusedly at her. "What are you doing here?"
He continued to grin, though she thought she noticed a little nervousness on his face now. "Looking for you."
Only then did Hermione notice that he was holding one hand behind his back, and she frowned slightly. "How did you find me?"
Ron shrugged. "You always take the same route."
If she was surprised that Ron knew the route she took every night, Hermione didn't show it as she let her curiosity get the better of her. "Oh... well, why were you looking for me?"
Never before had Hermione seen Ron, of all people, smiling shyly, but here he was, standing in front of her, doing just that. But nothing could have prepared her for what he did next, or that his voice got around two octaves deeper when he spoke. "To give you this..." And from behind his back Ron pulled out a beautiful, scarlet rose.
Hermione's jaw almost dropped down to the dungeons. She took the fully bloomed flower delicately into her hands as if it was made of the thinnest spun glass, turning it around to examine its petals. Her eyes turned wonderingly up to look into Ron's face, searching for any clue as to why he had given this gorgeous flower to plain, bookish, boring old her.
Ron smiled softly at her reaction. "I know you're thinking that yesterday you said you didn't want anything... but, for one, I could tell you weren't telling the truth – I know you better than that. And for another, you said that it wouldn't really mean anything because you probably wouldn't know the bloke very well. Well, I figure that you know me pretty well... so it definitely means something. Lastly, you said you wouldn't like anything because it was too public. So, I waited until there wasn't any one else around so I could give it to you."
Tears threatened fill up her eyes. Why is he being so sweet? Hermione swallowed, and smiled tremulously up at him. "Thank you, Ron... but you really didn't need to..."
She was stopped from the speech she had been about to make by the fact that Ron had taken a step closer to her, and was cupping her cheek softly with his large hand. The look in his eyes was indescribable, and Hermione felt like she was being swallowed whole in those azure quicksand oceans. "Yes, I did need to. If anyone deserves to feel special and beautiful on a day like today, it's you." He paused, and removed his hand from her face, eliciting a deep sense of loss from the skin on which had been in contact with his moments before. "But I also had an ulterior motive for giving it to you..."
Hermione smiled, pleasantly baffled, up at him. Ron frowned slightly, and raised his hand to his messy red hair, mussing it up even more in frustration. He sighed, looking at the empty hallway next to them, and tried to continue what he was attempting to say. "I... blast, I don't know how I'm gonna say this..." His intense gaze turned back to her, and a look of shy realization stumbled onto his face. Ron slowly took one more step to bring him closer to Hermione, who, utterly perplexed, didn't move away.
Hesitantly, Ron leaned further down, and brushed a few stray locks of hair away from her face, and settled his hand where it had been just a minute before. Hermione felt as if she had turned into stone, and yet as if she was suddenly hypersensitive to everything around her, all at once. She couldn't move. The feel of Ron's peppermint-scented breath on her face, his warm hand carefully caressing her cheek, his infinite blue eyes gazing intently into hers, was intoxicating... then suddenly, Hermione's world stopped.
That moment when Ron's lips first softly brushed against hers, when his hand slid to tangle itself in her bushy, brown hair, when his hand gently landed on her hip, settling her more firmly against him, was the moment Hermione's life as she had known it ended... and she couldn't have been happier that it did.
The kiss itself was not particularly long, though it felt eternal to the two participants. Ron eventually pulled back slightly, and Hermione looked blissfully, though still a little perplexed, again into his fiery cobalt eyes; and unwilling to create any more distance between them, she left her hands (one still holding the rose) entwined gently around his neck. He grinned softly, continuing to stroke her hair and face as he spoke. "I've been waiting to do that for ages..."
"Why now?" She whispered back softly, pressing her forehead against his (she was only able to do this because he was bent over just enough for her to do so), keeping her chocolate brown eyes fixed on his blue ones.
"Yesterday when you told me how you felt about Valentine's Day, I decided that I needed to prove you wrong – that Valentine's Day wasn't evil." He grinned, and straightened up, bringing one hand down to softly grasp hers. "We should be getting back; you've usually returned from your patrols by now."
Hermione grinned up at him again as they started to walk slowly back to the common room. "Well, it seems that I was distracted." Ron continued to grin down at her, and chuckled quietly.
The red rose was being held primly in Hermione's left hand as they walked back to the common room, and settled together a couch near to the fire, Hermione leaning against Ron's broad chest. The latter looked fondly down at the former, and grinned, still stroking her hair softly.
Harry walked by at one point, heading up to the boys dormitories from the portrait hole, and grinned at the two of them. He nodded his head in silent approval as he passed, as the two of them continued to sit quietly with each other, grinning quite ridiculously, it must be said. Leaving them to re-discover each other, Harry continued on his way, grinning along with them for some unknown reason.
Hermione couldn't stop smiling as she lay contentedly against Ron, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Hmm... you know, there are a lot of good words that begin with 'V' as well... Valor, Voyages, Values, Vanilla, Velvet, Virtue... and one very important "V" word that brought about the best thing that's ever happened to me –
"What're you thinking about?" Ron said, languidly breaking into Hermione's thoughts. This time, however, she didn't mind at all.
"Nothing, Ron. Just thinking about how Valentine's Day isn't so evil, after all." She smiled contentedly up at him, which he returned just as happily. The two of them remained on that couch for a long time, not wanting the night to end; the rose glinting knowingly in the light of the flickering fire.
Now, review, pretty please:D
Oh, and a very Happy Valentine's Day to everyone, especially all those lonely spinsters out there like yours truly. :)