It was a bright and beautiful Monday morning and almost everyone was smiling. Why? No, classes had not been canceled, and Harry had defeated the Dark Lord the previous year. No, it was better than either of those. It was the day that those who have a 'speacial someone' adore, and those who do not dread. It was Febuary the fourteenth - St. Valentine's Day. Harry was singing to himself as he carefully dressed. He wore well-cut black trousers and an emerald close-fitting sweater that set off shocking green eyes no longer hidden by glasses. He ran his hands through his hair, pulling it back at his neck, then letting it fall loose about his shoulders. "I was lost 'till you were found and I never knew how far down I had fallen until I reached the bottom..."
Tonight, everyone was going to have fun, that was sure. Fifth years and above were going to a private St. Valentine's Day celebration while the younger students had a dance in the Great Hall. Harry hummed as he tucked a scarlet letter sealed with black-red wax into his pocket and strolled out of the dorm. he made his way up to the owlery. Hedwig flew down and perched on his shoulder, giving his ear an affectionate nip. He gave her an owl treat before handing her the envelope. "You know who to take this to," he smiled. "During breakfast, please."
He grinned as he walked into the Great Hall and sat between Ron and Hermione.
"Hey, mate, why do you look so... giddy? Did you finally get some?"
"Ron!" Hermione gasped, aghast.
"It's just such a lovely day, isn't it?"
"It's Valentine's Day, Harry."
"Yes, I know."
Ron was about to point out that his best-mate had no one to send a Valentine to, but was distracted as an eagle owl hurried to the Gryffindor table, and dropped a bunch of creame colored roses with a deep, almost red, pink edge to the petals. Hermione read the note that appeared in green shimmers above the table:
The red rose speaks of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
Oh, the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.
With a flush on its petal tips;
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on the lips.
"Isn't that a Muggle poem?" She asked.
Harry nodded "John Boyle O'Reilly."
"Who sent it?"
Harry simply smiled in return and watched as his snowy owl flew to the Slytherin table and dropped his scarlet letter in front of a certain blonde. Whispers of "Potter sent Malfoy a howler!" echoed all over the Great Hall. Draco picked up the envelope and ripped it open, smirking slightly. Harry's voice boomed throughout the hall:
Drink to me, but with thine eyes,
And I shall pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I'll not ask for wine.
The thirst, that from the soul doth rise,
Doth ask a drink divine :
But might I of Jove's nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.
The whole school looked back and forth between the two of them. The boys' eyes were locked on each other. Both rose at the same instant. Draco took a cup of water from his table, took a sip and kissed the rim. When he let go, the glass hovered a moment before drifting into Harry's grasp, who took a sip as well. Draco blushed. The whole school gasped. The ice prince could actually feel! Draco cleared his throat as a smirk overtook his mouth.
I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much honoring thee,
As giving it a hope, that there
It could not wither'd be.
But thou thereon did'st only breathe,
And sent'st it back to me :
Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,
Not of itself, but thee.
Harry grinned and said over the deafening silence, "May I escort you tonight, my prince?"
There was a resounding gasp at this and yet another as Draco grinned and, inclining his head, "But of course, my knight."
Harry was about to sit back down when Hermione grabbed his right arm and pulled him out into the hallway, closely followed by Ron.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Parkinson and Zabini doing the same with Draco.His two best friends pulled him into a classroom. "What the bloody hell was that!" Ron exclaimed.
"You knew," Harry murmured.
"I knew you liked him, I knew you're gay, I did not know he liked you, too. Or that you two apparently have a thing going."
"How long?" Hermione ended Ron's tirade.
Harry smiled, "How long has been decent to you two?"
"Since the beginning of fifth year," she stated without hesitation.
"Bloody hell! Have you two been together two years?" Ron was in shock.
"A little more than," Harry replied. "We started dating that January. He makes me deleriously happy and I - I think I love him."
Ron sighed and shook his head. "Well, let's go see him. I have to give him the He's-My-Best-Mate-You-Hurt-Him-You-Die speach."
Meanwhile Pansy and Blaise hadpulled Draco into an empty room just off the hallway to the great hall. As soon as the door was closed, Blaise exploded, "What the FUCK was that!"
"That would have been a muggle sonnet. Ben Jonson- a contemporary of William Shakespeare, I'm sure you've heard of him."
"Not that - THAT!" Blaise waved his arms in the direction Harry had been pulled by his friends.
"Oh. That would have been an exchange of Valentines."
"Quit being a wit, right now, Draco, you know what he means," Pansy interjected.
"Can a bloke not send his boyfriend roses on Valentine's Day without being submitted to the Spanish Inquisition?"
"Tha Spanish What?" Blaise asked confused.
"The Spanish Inquisition," Pansy rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Blaise, read some Muggle history."
Draco sighed, they had gotten off topic, thank the gods. Pansy suddenly rounded on him, "Don't think that lets you off the hook, Draco."
Shit! "What? What did I do?" He looked deliberately confused.
He received only two pointed glares in return.
"Okay. Harry and I have been together since January of our fifth year. He makes me unbeleivably happy. And...I think I love him."
Pansy and Blaise stared at him a moment before Pansy said, "Right. Then I get to give him the You-Hurt-Him-You'll-Wish-Voldemort-Was-Back talk."
After being confronted by the best friends, Harry and Draco headed for the Dungeons for Potions for Aurors. As they entered the classroom, Snape qipped, "You boys always have to be the center of attention, don't you?"
"Only of each other's," Draco grinned back.
Severus muttered something about "idiot romantics" before starting the lesson.
The boys had to admit, they liked having the freedom to walk around the castle with each other now, but sometimes it was rather trying. Like now. Each was in a separate Quidditch meeting with their own house, but were having shockingly similar conversations.
"...You're sleeping with the enemy, Harry!"
"... He'll ask you for our strategies while you're fucking, Draco!"
"... A Slytherin, Harry!"
"... A Gryffindor, Draco!"
"... If it came between you and Draco for the snitch, that is, if he actually saw it, would you let him have it?"
"... If you saw the snitch and Harry didn't, would you point it out to him?"
Finally, on separate ends of the castle, two bellows of, "ENOUGH!" scared all the mice and snakes from the dungeons and all the birds from the towers.
"... One, I played quite well last year while we were dating, and even won us the Quidditch Cup, if you recall."
"... If you recal, we tied in our last game, it was only a matter of total points gained that got them the Cup."
"... Two, if you care to remember, it was a rather fair game."
"... And, I might add, even if he did catch the snitch, and did manage to sight it before me, did it look like I was trying to ravish him on the field?"
"... Three, you, Ginny are dating the Zabini boy, Slytherin's Keeper. And yet, he still blocks several of your quaffles."
"... Might I also point out, Blaise, that your little girlfriend from Gryffindor doesn't seem to take it too easily on you, when she's trying to score - no pun intended."
"... So why the hell is it different for Draco and me?"
"... So, why the fuck is it different for Harry and I?"
Mumbles of apology ran around both common rooms before the strategies for the upcoming games took over.
Seven o'clock finally rolled around and it saw the younger students already in the Great Hall, dancing to the Weird Sisters and the older students in the chambers under the third-floor corridor, with Seamus as their DJ. There was a bar in the back serving drinks, a few of them alcholic.
Just as Seamus started playing Heart's "Almost Paradise", Harry appeared in the doorway to the dance hall, dressed in well-cut black slacks, dragonhide boots, and a deep forest green silk shirt. I thought that dreams belonged to other men. Cause each time I got close they'd fall apart again. He turned halfway around in the doorway and held his hand out to someone behind him. Another hand grasped his and in stepped Draco Malfoy, dressed the same as Harry, except his shirt was a pastel silver-blue. I feared my heart would beet in secrecy. I faced the nights alone. They walked down the steps to the dance floor, proud and elegant, and took each other in their arms. Oh how could I have known that all my life I only needed you? They waltzed around the now-empty floor, gazing into each others' eyes, swirling in a cloud of passion, love, affection, and elegance. Almost paradise! We're knocking on Heaven's door. Almost paradise! How could we ask for more? I swear that I can see forever in your eyes. Paradise...
Half an hour later, the couple decided they needed a break. They wove their way through the other dancers and those watching the dancers and proceeded to the bar. Neville stood behind the bar and grinned at the pair. "Thought you two were going to skive off on us." He poured Harry a tulip glass of chambourde and turned to Draco. "What's your pleasure?"
"Who do you think gave Harry his taste for chambourde?" Draco and Neville grinned as the latter pulled out another tulip glass and filled it.
It was midnight, and neither boy could sleep. Harry sighed and he got out of bed and slung his school bag over his bare back and headed to the Room of Requirement. Draco, sighed at his desk, unable to concentrate on the letter to his mother, maybe he could get some school work done. He slid his arms through the sleeves of his pajama top, not taking the time to button it, he picked up his bag and began the long trek from the dungeon to the Room of Requirement.