Author's Note: This is my entry for the first round of the Quidditch League fanfiction competition. This story is canon through the end of DH, but ignores the epilogue and follows Harry and his friends to Hogwarts for an eighth year after the war. It is not a part of my other series.

Title/Link: Ardent Admiration

Team: Wimbourne Wasps

Position: Beater 1: The Rebel - Fear: no power

Prompts: (object) love letter, (emotion) hopeful, (setting) Room of Requirement

Word Count: 2963

Ardent Admiration

Hermione Granger sat in the Great Hall, enjoying her morning tea and porridge on a quiet Sunday morning. It was Valentine's Day, and she planned on spending most of the day with Ron—after he finally got out of bed, of course— and seeing as how she'd made sure Harry reminded him of the day and the expectations of one's girlfriend, she even had hopes that he'd do something to make it special.

She looked to her best friend quietly sitting next to her as he picked at his bacon sandwich, wishing that he'd find someone to make him happy. After the war, she'd hoped for a short time that he'd get back together with Ginny, but when Ginny noticed Harry's lack of attraction to her and his increased attention to certain males, including her brother Charlie, Hermione had quickly put that idea to rest. Instead, she tried setting him up with the boys of their class she knew might be interested.

It didn't hurt that he was Harry Potter, and even some of the boys who might not normally be interested in a man were intrigued by the idea of dating the Man Who Vanquished. Harry, though, seemed bored with it all and begged her to stop. "Hermione," he'd said, "leave it, please. I can find my own date in my own time, thank you. I don't just want someone who wants me because of my name, okay? I want someone who wants all of me, including my crazy friends and my bad temper and all my issues."

So she'd relented. But that didn't mean that she didn't wish he had someone to be with today, of all days. She watched him closely as the morning post came, owls dropping gifts and letters onto each of the tables. Knowing he had a block on unknown post owls to protect his privacy, she didn't expect him to get one, but it still made her sad as she watched him finish his breakfast with no Valentine.

"Harry," she began, "are you sure you'll be—"

Pop!

Cutting her off, Kreacher approached Harry with a rolled parchment tied in a deep red silk ribbon. "Master," he croaked in his low voice, "you have a letter Kreacher's been tasked to deliver." He dropped the item onto Harry's outstretched hand as though it were poisoned, then disappeared with another pop before Harry could question him.

Hermione leaned over, trying to see, but Harry rolled his eyes and turned away, opening the letter where she couldn't see. She watched him closely as he read, looking for a reaction. His shoulders tensed and he cocked his head. "Harry? Can I see?"

He seemed to think about it, then blushed and nodded. "I guess. It says it's from— well, you look at it, then."

Hermione prevented herself from grabbing it outright and gently took the letter, then began to read.

Dearest Harry,

In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.

I know you surely realise that a match between us should not be possible, but I cannot fight my heart. I am powerless against the tide of my passion that has made me but a simple vessel pushed about by the waves.

The demands of my station in society, and yours, prevent this from being the logical choice, but since when has the brain had a choice over the heart? Instead, I concede defeat and allow my heart the power over me to choose its other half, you.

Have you felt it too, this force that draws us together against our whole and better judgement? Have you wondered, as I have, if you've lost your mind to even consider such a thing? Alas, if I have indeed lost a part of myself, it is because it now resides with you.

That a man such as myself could find himself at the mercy of a man such as you will come to the surprise of many, I am sure. My friends and yours may object to our romantic alliance, but I assure you that I am willing to face any trial to have you at my side. Your kindness, humour, passion—and dare I admit, your intelligence—far outweigh any difficulties I may face to be with you.

Harry, I beg you that will agree to be with me, on today, this day for lovers. If you will, please meet me this afternoon at two o'clock at the place where you first convinced me that I had a life left worth living, if only it were with you. If you are unable to decipher the spot I describe, possibly because you do not feel the pull I do and have not figured who I am—or Merlin forbid, do not wish to meet with me if you have—then I hope you will be kind and allow me to wallow in my pain in peace.

Yours truly and forever

-Your Secret Admirer

Hermione's heart melted at the words as she read them. The romance and sincerity rang throughout the letter, though she felt she read clues periodically as to who could have sent the letter; she just needed a little while to work them out. She cleared her throat, then feeling a blush of her own, glanced up to her best friend, who seemed to be trying to avoid her gaze.

"Harry? What are you going to do? Do you know who wrote it?"

Harry gave a little shrug. "It sounds like they expect me to know, doesn't it? Who do you think it's from?"

She glanced through the first few lines then grinned. "Come on, let's go wake up Ron and work on it. It's been a while since we had a mystery to solve, right?"

Harry laughed and leaned over to give her a little hug. "Right. Grab him some food, though, or we won't get anything out of him."

Carrying a plate of food, Hermione made her way up to the eighth-year common room and followed Harry into his and Ron's private dormitory. Each of the eighth year students had been paired with only one other student, and they all shared a common room. This meant that the trio had spent the year getting to know their classmates from other houses better, including the Slytherins. It had been an interesting experience.

For now, though, she was pleased that they had a private place they could share Harry's exciting love letter and dissect each piece until they could figure out who it was from, and what it all meant for Harry! She was trying to remain neutral, but the opening words felt familiar, and she was sure they were a clue. She loved clues. And she loved romance. It was perfect. And on Valentine's Day! She really hoped this worked out well.

By the time she entered the room, Harry had already sat down on his bed and thrown a pillow at Ron, who was gradually waking up. He noticed her and a huge smile crossed his face. She loved it when he looked at her like that—like she was the source of his happiness and delight. He didn't even notice the plate of food, he only saw her. That's what she wanted for Harry. She wanted him to know this feeling, and it reminded her of the letter. Right. Down to business.

"Ron, here, we made you a plate, but while you eat, we have a mystery to solve."

"Blimey, 'Mione, already? It's only half-past nine on a Sunday morning. What could possibly be so urgent?"

She rolled her eyes and glanced at Harry. "Harry received a love letter from a secret admirer, but if he's going to meet him, we have to figure out who it is, if he wants to meet him at all, and if so, where he needs to go."

Ron looked sharply at Harry and narrowed his eyes. "A secret admirer, Harry? Seriously? And you don't know who it is?"

Harry looked uncomfortable and shrugged. "Hermione reckons there are clues in the letter."

"Right," Hermione sat down next to Harry. "Harry, can I make a copy of the letter for each of us? I'll burn the others before we leave the room so they don't get out."

"Er—you promise? There's some really personal stuff in there. I don't think—"

She tutted. "Of course I promise." He held out the letter, and she pulled out her wand, duplicating the letter twice. Handing one to Ron, she then began examining her own copy closely. "Harry, this first line— it's from something I've read before." She read it out loud, trying to hear it in her mind. "In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you." She stood up and paced. "In vain I have struggled… What is that—of course!"

Both boys looked at her expectantly, Ron grinning in admiration.

She brushed her hair out of her face as she flopped down on the bed beside Ron. "Harry, have you ever heard of Pride and Prejudice?"

Harry shook his head slowly. "Uh, no, should I have?"

She let out a little huff. When were these guys going to finally pick up a book for fun? "It's a book, a Muggle classic. This is from the first marriage proposal Mr Darcy made Elizabeth Bennett. Basically, he's a rich upper-class landowner, and she's the daughter of a much poorer country gentleman with a crazy family. He proposes to her but bungles it all up by telling her how he's so much better than her but he's willing to overlook all that to be with her."

"So this guy used that in Harry's letter? How is that romantic?" Ron asked once he'd finished chewing his bacon. She smiled. He was turning out so well.

"Well, Darcy turns out to be a great guy, she just didn't know him well enough to recognize it. I think it's a clue. I think he's trying to tell you that he's like Mr Darcy. Given what else he wrote here, maybe he's pure-blood or something, and rich. But more importantly, I think he's saying that if you knew him better, you'd see his true self—like Elizabeth had to know Darcy better to see his true worth."

Harry nodded. "I guess I can see that. Pure-blood, you think? But if it's a Muggle novel, wouldn't you think it's a Muggle-born or half-blood?"

"Could be, I guess, but look at what else they wrote here." She skimmed down through the paragraphs. "'A match between us should not be possible,' and 'The demands of my station in society,' and finally 'My friends and yours may object to our romantic alliance.' Harry, I think it's pretty clear it's someone of whom we wouldn't normally approve—maybe a Slytherin?"

Ron growled at that, and she glared at him. "Ronald Weasley, did you even read this letter? This person is in love with Harry. He is willing to go against his friends and family and society to be with him. He admits he's powerless against this—which can't be easy for a Slytherin—and he sees Harry for who he is. 'Kindness, humour, intelligence.' Don't you want that for your best friend?"

Ron looked down at the letter, finally taking a moment to read it. "Blimey, Harry, this bloke is crazy about you." He kept reading, then laughed. "He even calls your temper passion. Only someone totally gone over you would think that."

Harry glared at the redhead, then scowled. "Well, only Hermione here would think your—"

"Harry!" Hermione interrupted him before the two could start bickering. "What do you think he means by 'the place where you first convinced me I had a life worth living'? Surely that must give it away?"

She had a feeling Harry knew who it was, but was trying to keep quiet. She watched him closely, but it was Ron who spoke in an awed whisper. "It's Malfoy."

She looked up sharply and almost missed the look on Harry's face—his eyes dropped and his mouth tight. It was a look filled with worry.

She focused on Ron, who seemed to be taking it much better than she expected. She'd been somewhat suspecting Malfoy since she'd first seen the handwriting, but she wasn't sure and didn't want to overlook other possibilities by verbalising that thought in her mind. She let Ron think about it a bit more, then finally gave him a nudge with her foot. "Ron?"

He jumped, then his blue eyes met hers. "No, seriously. Think about it? Who else would write a poncy love letter like this, and still have the audacity to talk about his station in life and shite like that? And 'life worth living'? Harry outright saved his life in the Room of Requirement last year, and I know he's been tutoring you there in Potions lately."

Harry's blush was now covering him entirely; even his hands looked red. Harry finally looked up and met their eyes. "Should I meet him, do you think?" Harry sounded hopeful but unsure.

"What?" Hermione and Ron both yelled in unison. She hesitated and let Ron talk. "Of course you go, you idiot. Didn't you hear what I said? The bloke is in love with you? And given the way you're looking not freaked out, I assume you like him back, yeah?"

Hermione held her breath, waiting for Harry to speak. She was sure this was Malfoy now, but if Harry didn't like him back…

"Yeah. I guess I do."

"Yes!" she squealed, then slapped her hand over her mouth. "Sorry," she laughed, then stopped. "Oh, Harry, this is great! Ron, come on, we have to help him figure out what to wear and get ready. He can't go like this."

"Hey!" Harry complained, but Ron laughed and helped her get him ready. They would make sure this all went perfectly. Harry had always been obsessed with Malfoy, and now he liked him, and Malfoy was in love with him. She wanted to sigh at the romance of it all, but instead, got to work.

At two o'clock exactly, Harry walked up to the door of the Room of Requirement, which was already showing, so there was no guessing as to what he should imagine the room to be. Hermione and Ron had dressed him in dark grey trousers and a deep green jumper, then tamed his hair as best they could. He let them do their best as it made them happy, and it amused him to see their eagerness.

Merlin, they were actually excited at his going on a date with Malfoy. He shook his head in disbelief, then opened the door to find Draco Malfoy waiting inside. The blond man was dressed in a pale blue jumper of his own and had a large smile on his face; there was no sign of the nervousness from his letter anywhere to be found.

"Harry."

"Draco," Harry said quietly. "I got your letter and I'm here."

"I see. Thank you for indulging me."

Harry snorted. "Indulge you, indeed, you prat. What the hell did you think you were doing? That could have totally backfired." He walked up and pulled his boyfriend of three months into his arms. "But the letter was beautiful, thank you. I think you had Hermione on your side at that Mr Darcy nonsense." He leaned in and felt Draco's familiar lips against his.

"Mm-hmm." Draco pulled back slightly and rested his forehead against Harry's. "And Weasley?"

"Ron," Harry laughed, looking up and pushing a stray white-blond lock behind Draco's ear, "actually persuaded me that I'd be stupid to let someone go who saw my temper as passion, even if he was a poncy ferret. Then he allowed that you weren't as bad as you used to be and helped pick out a pair of trousers that made my arse look good."

Draco laughed, then turned around to look at the arse in question. "Not bad, Weasel," he muttered, then gave Harry a shaky smile. "Well, at least that's settled and done with. I admit that I was really nervous it wouldn't go well, especially when Granger realized it was me." Harry tried to speak, but Draco stopped him. "I know you said it wouldn't matter, but it does, and after I sent the letter, it was out of my hands. I really hate not being in control."

"Draco," Harry said fondly, "You are such a git. I love you, too. But what about your friends?"

"Not a problem anymore." He pulled Harry back into his arms. "Who do you think helped me write the letter?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You are such a Slytherin, but you're my Slytherin, so I suppose it's okay." He hesitated, then decided he had to know and asked hopefully, "But did you mean all that stuff you said in the letter?"

Draco's grey eyes smouldered. "I did. It probably wasn't wise of me to lay myself bare like that, and it went against all my instincts, but I thought it was the only way for your Gryffindor friends to take me seriously. I can't say that I enjoyed it, though."

Harry smiled, then pulled Draco over to the sofa he'd set before the fire. "So, what are the plans?"

"For today? For tomorrow? For next year? You need to be more specific, Potter."

"All of the above? Come on, we'll talk about them later. I have more specific plans for now." He pulled Draco down onto the sofa beside him and set about giving Draco his own Valentine's Day gift.

The End