Author's Note:

First off: Harry Potter, his friends, enemies, teachers, and locale are not mine and never were, since they're the property of JK Rowling and all those other people who have, unlike me, paid money for the rights.

Secondly: The following is not meant to be taken seriously, so if you are a real Hermione/Draco Shipper, I suggest you back off slowly. I wrote this after being plunged into a mire of badly written romance fics in which Hermione and Draco end up together, which, in my mind, is a totally appalling circumstance, one to which I hope Mrs. Rowling will never subject her characters. It would ruin all the fun of Malfoy's existence...

But now is neither the place nor the time for me to rant on and on about how much I love to hate Malfoy... So, shall we begin?

Click on, fair readers, and beware...

ONE
In Which Plotters Plot And A Time Frame Is Conveniently Set Up

Snow fluttered to the ground as a chill wind whipped up miniature snowstorms on the grounds of Hogwarts School. Oblivious of the snowflakes falling into their bright red, and now rather wet, hair, Fred and George Weasley lounged indolently on the shore of the half frozen lake, occasionally tossing bits of leftover toast to the giant squid. Classes had ended for the day no too long ago, so students were prowling the grounds, putting off doing their homework. A couple of third years had begun a snowball fight and were now screeching and chucking balls of snow that had been magicked for better aim at each other.
"It's that time of year again," George pointed out mournfully, shredding a piece of toast.
"So it is," Fred agreed nonchalantly. He poked a bit of toast with his wand, watching distractedly as it grew to the size of a small watermelon and then exploded with a loud POP, spewing toast guts into the air. "I think we're rather overdue for a bit of fun. What say you?" he added, brushing toast off his robes and scarf.
George eyed his twin quizzically. "Pray tell, divulge your mighty plans, oh ingenious one," he asked dryly. "What could you possibly have in mind a mere five days before Valentine's Day?"
Fred grinned and looked pointedly towards the opposite shore where Hermione was engaged in a heated argument with Draco Malfoy. Harry and Ron were discussing something else entirely, ignoring Hermione's indignant retorts to Malfoy's drawling insults.
A look of sly cunning oozed slowly across George's mischievous countenance. "I don't know how well I'll look as a small, fat, cherub," he said by way of agreement, "but I'm willing to try it."
"I think we could put Cupid out of a job this February." Fred smiled toothily. "Come on."
They both stood up and headed back into the castle, making their way up to Gryffindor Tower.



"Ooh, that Malfoy!" Hermione fumed as she, Harry, and Ron sat down to breakfast the next morning. "Who does he think he is? That great, big —" Hermione broke off here, apparently unable to find the words to describe just exactly what Malfoy was. She huffed angrily and viciously skewered a sausage.
Harry shrugged. He had long known what a great git Malfoy was and was rather surprised it had taken Hermione this long to figure it out. He took a gulp of his pumpkin juice and pointed out, "Well, you can expect more of him this morning. We've got double potions with Slytherin first thing."
Ron groaned into his eggs. "What a lovely start to a Wednesday." He raised his goblet in mock salute towards the Slytherins. "May they fall into the lake and get eaten by the giant squid! And may Snape trip and fall into Malfoy's cauldron and drown," he added as an afterthought.
Harry grinned and raised his own goblet. "Hear, hear! Though the squid gets the shorter end of the deal, really. Feel sorry for it." They both grinned and took a long draft of their pumpkin juice. As they lowered their goblets, Hermione shrieked in dismay.
"Fred!" she yelled. "What were you doing?"
Ron and Harry turned in the twins' direction to find Fred hastily mopping up spilled pumpkin juice and attempting to keep it from running over the edge of the table onto Hermione. George righted Hermione's goblet as Fred apologized profusely.
"Sorry, Hermione, really, I am. Here," Fred shoved his own goblet towards her. "Take mine. I don't want it, and I've gone and spilled all yours. So sorry, Hermione."
Hermione groaned frustratedly and since her breakfast was now a soggy, pumpkin flavored ooze, she downed Fred's goblet in one, angry swig. Slamming the goblet back onto the table, she picked up her schoolbooks and stalked from Great Hall.
Ron and Harry exchanged looks. "Guess we better go after her then," Harry decided, and they both stood and followed Hermione.