Chapter Three

One Excited Pair

Harry sat in his room again that evening, reading up on his Charms work. He'd mastered the Animating Charm and was now researching its uses. He had learned that the charm was how the wizarding world got regular household objects to do things all by themselves.

Harry thought back to the first time he visited the Burrow and watched all Mrs. Weasley's kitchen gadgets do their work independently. He smiled at the memory of the dishes scrubbing away at themselves. I wonder what charm it was that made the voice speak to me after I sniffed at that rose this morning. Harry sighed, frustrated. He set his book back on his desk and propped his head up on his hand, elbow resting on the desktop wood.

He had been quite proud of himself for doing some of his homework, and not think about his 'delectable mystery' man. Unfortunately, every time he would manage it, it never lasted for very long. Harry was still thinking about the valentines he received that day. Two now. He must really like me… Harry smiled again, pondering who this secret classmate of his was.

He assumed it must be a classmate, even if it wasn't a Gryffindor, because who else would be able to know those things about him. Harry sighed. He knew it was useless to wonder, but he couldn't help it. His mind started raking through all his yearmates, thinking who it could possibly be.

Harry pulled out a spare sheet of parchment and dabbed his quill into the inkwell on his desk. He wrote down all the names of the boys in his year. Well, it's not Dean, Ron, Seamus, or Neville, because he flat-out said he wasn't a Gryffindor. Harry crossed his four ex-roommates off his list. He went to the Hufflepuffs next.

In fact, Harry went through all his male classmates, and he couldn't think of anyone who would have sent him the love notes. Everyone was either seeing someone, or they were straight. Harry shook his head. I guess I'll just have to wait and see who this guy is. He looked over at his Charms book. Back to work.

Harry pulled the book back to him and tried to concentrate. But after only five minutes, the words on the page started swimming together and forming the words that had appeared in his phantom's letters.

"Bloody hell!"

~ " * " ~

One Delectable Mystery sat at his desk. He happily resided in a single room, just like the object of his obsession. He was concentrating on what exactly he was going to say that night when he finally revealed himself to Harry. He looked at his wristwatch. Not too much longer.

The mystery man stood, stretching his frame to its full height. A slow smile spread across his lips. The young man was about to tell Harry Potter about the addiction that had been created inside his very soul. An addiction to Harry.

There was one thing that was plaguing the teen's mind, though. What if Harry doesn't like this revelation? The worry sat in his heart, threatening to overcome the urge to disclose his identity.

If Harry rejects anything about me, then I will at least know. If I do not do this, I will regret it for the rest of my life. Our delectable mystery made up his mind, once and for all. He was going to tell Harry the truth, and to hell with consequences. He took a deep, relaxing breath and began steeling himself against the possible rebuff that may be directed toward himself.

He checked his watch once more. He had just enough time to get himself dressed and ready to go. He pulled his wand. A quick spell, and then I'll dress. The young man smiled slightly and whispered an incantation.

~ " * " ~

Harry took a steadying breath. " 'Mione, do I really look alright?" He looked down at himself. He was now wearing pressed gray pants and a blood red sweater. The sweater was tight enough that it showed off just enough of his muscular torso. Encasing his feet were a pair of freshly, and magically, polished boots. He stared at himself in the mirror.

Hermione smiled soothingly and patted her best friend's shoulder. She stood on her tiptoes and looked over his shoulder in the mirror. "Harry, you look great." She slipped her arms around his waist from behind and gave him a little squeeze. "It's not like the guy's going to see the whole ensemble perfectly, though. You're going to be wearing your cloak, remember."

Harry nodded. He was still nervous. Why in bloody hell am I so nervous? I'm acting like a school girl. This is ridiculous. Harry sighed.

"What's wrong, Harry, sweetie?" asked Hermione.

Harry sighed again. "I'm being stupid."

Hermione tilted her head to the side. "Why are you being stupid?"

"I'm getting all excited about a couple of valentines I got. It's just stupid." Harry shook his head.

Hermione smirked. "No, you're not being stupid. I think it's really romantic."

Harry groaned. "I hate 'romantic.' It's so annoying. Gah! Why am I even going?"

Hermione shook her head now, bushy curls bouncing around her head. "Because, Harry. You could find out that this guy is someone that could make you really happy. When was the last time you were really happy?"

Harry took a deep breath. He couldn't remember the last time he was really happy. Was he ever really happy? He didn't think so. He said so.

"Well then, don't you think it's about damn time that you were happy?" Hermione stepped out from behind him, her hands on her hips.

"I suppose so." Harry fidgeted with the hem of his sweater. He looked himself over in the mirror. "Do I really look alright?"

Hermione groaned. "Isn't it about time you get going, Harry?"

~ " * " ~

The delectable mystery looked at his watch and saw that it was time for him to go to the designated meeting point. He took a long, soothing breath.

He started out of his room and out toward the lake. The mystery man was finally off to reveal himself to the only person he'd ever loved.

~*~TBC~*~