A/n: Written for the Valentine's Day Challenge at Plano Hogwarts. I think this should serve as proof that ideas can come at any time, anywhere. Even when you are blow-drying your hair sometime around 2 in the afternoon on a Saturday.
Disclaimer: Sure, I don't own them. But the plot is all mine. And I find great pride in the Gryffindor password I mention in this.
Muggle Candy Comes In Handy
Ron Weasley had heard much commotion about Valentine's Day in the span of almost sixteen years. However, this was not necessarily a good thing. That is, Ron Weasley greatly disliked Valentine's Day.
Except for the candy, of course. He loved that part of the damned holiday.
His infamous twin brothers, Fred and George, knew this very well. They knew this so well, in fact, that this particular trait of their brother's had become positively endearing. Thus, they had decided to do something special for Ron's latest Valentine's Day extravaganza at Hogwarts. They had decided to, for once, make it an actual extravaganza.
Thus it was that Ron found himself attacked by a frivolous old owl the day before Valentine's Day at breakfast. It was a much more frightening ordeal than it could have been, as the owl had been very obviously dyed pink. And as everyone knows (or should know), pink is a very frightening color. So it was to no one's alarm that Ron let out a shriek as the horridly pink owl plunged into his cold oatmeal. In fact, everyone was quite relieved to see that Ron had reacted the correct way to the atrocious color.
But let's not dwell on the almost toxic properties of a color such as pink, lest we hurt ourselves.
Let us instead examine what it was that this poor, mildly abused animal was bearing on his leg. As Ron watched in awed horror, the pink soggy mess of feathers emerging from his oatmeal stuck its leg up high in the air, squawking amidst gurgles. Quite disgusted, Ron untied the package from the creature's leg and heaved it out of the oatmeal, as he imagined it would be quite unpleasant to be stuck in oatmeal at such ungodly hours of the morning. Especially if you'd been dyed pink.
The owl squawked gratefully, but Ron ignored it. He was staring with apprehension at the names on the return address: "Fred and George Weasley, Masters of Weasley Wizard Wheezes! Diagon Alley, up Gargoyle Glade Ave. Business is Booming!"
"So, what the hell is that, Ron?" Harry asked casually, glancing up at him briefly from Wonderful, Wacky, Waloominous Wizard Watches, a book Luna had lent to him.
Ron merely shrugged in response. He quickly tore the paper off the box and opened it to find a ridiculous amount of pink confetti explode in his face. After another brief shrieking spell, he managed to get the confetti out of his nose and mouth and read the bright pink note lying atop a box of Chocolate Frogs. The note said:
"Hey, Ickle Ronniebobkins, our lad. We think you ought to have some fabulous candy on such a fabulous holiday. And who else could provide anything fabulous than your beloved brothers? Try to answer that, Casanova. You probably don't even know what we mean by that, you sad son of a Kelpie. No matter. We will give you this candy nonetheless. It would be Unwise to share it, first of all because—ha—sharing is caring, my arse. Or our arses. Have it your way. Second, it is especially designed for you. Yes, you can give these Chocolate Frogs to your bonnie lass, who may or may not have voluminous hair, and she will confess to her crush that she is terribly smitten. If for some ludicrous reason she is off confessing to some tosser who is not you, aforementioned tosser will not remember a thing, your bonnie lass will be rendered free of embarrassment—which, if you think about it, is no fun for us, but we are willing to make sacrifices—and you will have an average Valentine's Day.
But we highly doubt that's how it'll go.
Have fun, pet. And, yes, we're laughing at how we make you cringe. It would be sacrilege not to.
Exuding Male Grandeur,
Fred and George
P.S. We anticipated you'd have a bit of trouble understanding what to do, so instructions are included."
Ron blinked at the note in awe and held it tightly between his fingers, fully ignoring the fact that it was, indeed, pink. He felt a smile tug at his lips, even though his first instinct was to be wary of a product concocted by the Prank Masters themselves. However, the thought of having a bearable—maybe even GOOD—Valentine's Day was much too tantalizing to give up.
"What is it, Ron?" Harry asked again, when he noticed his friend had finished reading.
Finally deciding to smile, Ron looked up and said, "It's the only thing that might make me survive Valentine's Day without resorting to Cheering Charms."
br
Ron was not one for romantic gestures or secretive scheming. However, this seemed like it could be fun enough and nothing really terrible could come out of it. So instead of sending his brothers a Howler screeching about how they should keep their freckled noses out of his business, he read the instructions tucked into a flap on the side of the Chocolate Frogs box carefully and decided to try this crazy thing out.
That night, he went up into the Sixth Year Boys' dormitory much earlier than usual, saying he needed all the energy he could get to survive a day so dreadful as Valentine's Day unscathed. Soon, he got to work on writing a short note (following the instructions he'd been given) for the young witch who would be receiving the package from him later on that night, making sure he did not sound like either a pompous git or a lunatic stalker. Neither would get him anywhere. Once he had written a suitable note—which he supposed counted as an actual Valentine in anyone's book—he secured it to the box of Chocolate Frogs, not bothering to wrap the box or anything, lest he terrify the girl with his atrocious gift-wrapping skills.
By the time he'd finished, the digital clock Dean Thomas kept by his bed read 10:00. Ron took a deep breath and stuffed the package under his arm. Then he threw Harry's Invisibility Cloak over his head and hurried out of the common room, knowing everyone was too drowsy to notice the portrait hole door open and close of its own accord. Who would ever suspect Ron Weasley of all people would be sneaking out after dark to the Owlery to send a Valentine?
It was out of the question.
br
Hermione sat nonchalantly at the top of the Astronomy Tower, looking into her telescope and once in a while jotting down something quickly on a piece of parchment. Lavender and Pavarti had insisted she was out of her mind for being out here, "and the night before Valentine's Day, too!" Apparently this was the time for her to get something called "beauty sleep," but she thought that title for something like sleep was a bit of an exaggeration.
Everything around her was very silent and still. It was highly relaxing and she was gladder than ever that she was not down in her dorm, as she was sure that Lavender and Pavarti were discussing Valentine's Day make-up instead of getting their beauty sleep. She was quite content with being so high above the castle grounds, where she could see the slightest ripple in the lake or a breeze through the forest or a giant owl through her telescope—
Startled, she sprang away from her telescope when the looming shape of a tawny owl invaded her line of vision. It was a very raucous bird, but she thought that might be due to the fact that it was carrying a somewhat large package. She couldn't help but feel extremely grateful that the owl was of a normal color, and not preposterously pink like the one Harry said descended upon Ron at breakfast that morning. A loud squawk from the owl interrupted her grateful reverie; quickly, she untied the package from the owl's leg and let it fly off with a disgruntled hoot.
There was no wrapping paper on the box, so it was evident that it contained Chocolate Frogs. This secretly pleased her, as she loved Chocolate Frogs but hated to admit it, with her parents being dentists and all. However, what caught her attention was the fact that attached to the box was a note in the shape of a red heart. She felt her pulse quicken as she began to read the note, which she realized was in fact the first Valentine card she had ever received:
"Hermione Granger,
Happy Valentine's Day. Have some chocolate; forget cavities for once. I want to ask you to throw caution to the wind and try these Chocolate Frogs. They're more magical than usual. This is how they work: you can give them to whatever lucky chap is the object of your affections as you confess your true feelings, and if he feels the same way, he will tell you. If he does not, he will immediately forget all that you told him. It works, I promise you, and I hope you will try it so maybe I can find out if I haven't been wasting my time all these years.
Plus, who could object to candy?
Love,
Perhaps You'll See."
Upon reading the card, Hermione felt very woozy, almost like she'd swallowed the owl that had delivered the trinket. Of course, she felt most flattered that someone had taken the time to find these special Chocolate Frogs, and she was honored that someone had endured the task of cutting out a heart (albeit, a reasonable red one), just for her sake.
Thus it was that she packed away her telescope, parchment, and quill and marched down to the dormitory, feeling an odd sensation near her navel, almost as if she were traveling by Floo Powder. It was a peculiar sensation that she could associate with being spontaneous, which didn't happen very often to her.
But what harm could there be?
br
On Valentine Morn, Ron awoke smiling. This made him feel very dizzy indeed, and he wondered whether he was possibly ill. Once he decided that he was fine as far as health was concerned, he thought it might have to do with his candy intake—that is, the lack thereof. Of course, this served as a reminder of the reason as to why he was so positively cheery.
Today could actually be a bearable Valentine's Day!
However, there was also the horrid chance that Hermione would not meet up with him somewhere, bearing the frogs and making his day. No, he might end up sunken down in the kitchens, with only a mug of butterbeer and greasy house-elves for company.
This only made him feel even woozier, so he opted for not thinking about it at all and instead taking a walk.
br
On the morning of February 14, 1996, Ron Weasley came to terms with the fact that he didn't like walking in the mornings. He much preferred his normal pastimes of sleeping in or having a large Weasley breakfast. Or, better yet, kicking the remnants of the Viktor Krum action figure around some more.
But such barbaric deeds might only anger Valentine gods. This encouraged him to keep away from causing further damage to the Krum doll, lest Cupid descend upon him and unleash a crusade of dancing mini Cupids the likes Hogwarts hadn't seen since the time of Lockhart.
Shuddering at the thought, he came upon the portrait hole to the Gryffindor Common Room and heard a giggle. He looked up to see the Fat Lady wearing pink heart-shaped jewelry and nibbling on equally pink, heart-shaped cookies. His eyebrows flew up as she winked at him and giggled some more.
"Are you feeling all right?" he asked tentatively.
"Oh, aren't you a dear?" More giggling. "Sugar, don't look so grumpy, it's Valentine's Day. A day made for love and kindness and all things sweet."
Trying not to gag, Ron replied, "Er…sure." He cleared his throat and said, "Pink Hater," the current password.
The Fat Lady eyed him warily. "I think I need further…persuasion before I let you in."
"Come again?"
Again, she giggled, this time very shrilly, and her cheeks turned pink. "For the sake of the holiday, love…would you mind giving me a kiss, just here?" She pointed a chubby finger at her crimson cheek and wiggled her eyebrows. At first, Ron was inclined to believe she was seriously drunk, but when he realized she was perfectly serious, he sighed.
"Very well, then." Sighing again, he saw her dance in place giddily and then lean down as far as she could in her portrait, so that Ron could reach her cheek if he stood on the tips of his toes. He shut his eyes tightly and pressed his lips against the rough material of the portrait.
The Fat Lady burst into giggles as soon as he pulled away and, blushing, swung open. "Thank you, darling," she cooed after him. He did not bother responding.
Somehow, this day had consisted of much more than he'd expected. He just hoped the right things were falling into place, so that the Fat Lady wouldn't be the only one he'd ever be kissing.
br
The door to the nearly abandoned girls' loo, the one Moaning Myrtle liked to bawl in, creaked open one particular Saturday morning of one particular Valentine's Day. The head that poked out from inside the foul bathroom was the bushy-haired one of Hermione Granger, a top student who was much more commonly found in the library. But on this one occasion she had sought Myrtle's bathroom as a much more suitable place for something like this. After all, she wasn't allowed to bring chocolate into the library, as it tended to give Madame Pince fits of Librarian Rage. Hermione knew there was no way she could've gotten away with bringing the Chocolate Frogs into the library, even with the promise that they wouldn't be Chocolate Frogs anymore upon her leaving the library.
Hermione was not one to do what she was expected to do. She was an overachiever and always went above and far beyond the expectations. This was no exception to that fine rule. She did not want to simply do as the one who'd sent the Frogs had told her. No, she wanted to make it even more interesting for herself. Therefore, she had decided to transfigure the Chocolate Frogs into a very common Valentine's Day Muggle candy, as a sort of tribute to her Muggle background. She had gone into Myrtle's bathroom very early that Valentine morning and carefully transfigured each Frog into a brightly colored candy heart with engraved phrases like, "Be Mine" and "U and Me," and equally ridiculous proclamations of love or something like it. Now she had a small satchel of the Muggle candy tucked into the pocket of her robes. The candy hearts had retained all the magical properties the Chocolate Frogs had, but they were now a completely different form of candy. She found it extremely fun to toy with the idea that, if it so happened that who she was going to confess to had actually sent the frogs in the first place, he wouldn't know right away what she was about to do.
So far, this was turning out to be a very interesting holiday indeed.
br
Ron roughly knocked a white castle off the chessboard, muttering to himself under his breath. At this point in time, he had come to decide that there truly was no justice in the world. And what better way to channel such anger at the world than by playing a game of chess? Albeit, he was playing by himself, and he had had absolutely no candy so far even though it was already past noon, but it was something.
He glanced around at the few bored people loitering around the common room, none of which paid any attention to him. There were a few second and third years lazily playing games of Exploding Snap or Gobstoppers. However, all his fellow sixth years were outside enjoying a celebratory Saturday. In fact, his own sister and best friend had gone off to Hogsmeade that morning, saying they would be back within the hour.
"Bloody liars," Ron growled through clenched teeth, slamming his black queen into the center of the chessboard. He really did not feel up to the task of trying to entertain himself; he already knew he was absolutely dreadful at it.
Just as he was rising from his seat by the window, he heard a loud tapping sound to his left. He turned to see his own small owl, Pigwidgeon, ogling at him, his owl face plastered against the glass. There was a square piece of parchment in his mouth. Intrigued, Ron opened the window and let the mad bird in. Ron had to endure a few seconds of watching him zoom rapidly around his head and kept calling, "Pig! Pig, get DOWN here!" Finally, the silly thing listened and landed precariously on his master's shoulder, hopping about as Ron took the letter from his beak.
It was a short note from Hermione:
"Hey, Ron, come down to the Owlery! My parents sent me some Muggle candy that I think you'd like. I don't want to go up there, in case hungry crowds of Gryffindors try to take it. Come down quickly!
- Hermione"
Wondering why in the hell she was actually encouraging him to eat candy, he stuffed the parchment into his pocket and lumbered out of the common room, Pig hooting happily at his shoulder.
br
Bright sunlight filtered in through the open windows of the Owlery, received by animate hoots from the owls. It is safe to say, however, that the owls were animatedly hostile at the sunlight, seeing as it illuminated the shameful state of the floor of their humble abode. Owls, although quite apathetic at times, are very mortified by their own secretion.
The disgruntled state of the owls was not the cause for concern for Hermione Granger. She paced about (safely away from the droppings, of course) chewing on her nails, something she only did when she was under very stressful situations (or around her dad's clients, but with teeth like theirs, this could also fall into the category of stressful situations, so we shall move on). Having just invited Ron down, she knew that any moment now he would arrive and she'd shove the candy hearts at him and finally tell him.
Her hand brushed against the bag in her pocket and she fished it out. Then, almost as if on cue, she heard a voice behind her say, "Do you actually expect me to eat candy in here? I mean, I love candy and all but…Urgh." She turned to see Ron looking around the Owlery, pinching his nose with two fingers. "These owls are just getting worse and worse when it comes to hygiene, eh?" He started to laugh but stopped when he saw she wasn't.
"Ron," she squeaked. "Er…here." She thrust the bag at him, and he willingly took it, examining the hearts with interest. "They're candy hearts. Big in the Muggle world on Valentine's Day. The things they've got written on them are very ridiculous, but the hearts themselves are really sweet."
"You mean you've actually eaten these? You took the chance of getting a cavity for these?" Ron looked at the tiny heart he was holding in his fingers with newfound admiration. "This must be some candy."
Hermione took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, um…eat one."
"You don't have to tell me twice," he said, grinning, and popped the candy into his mouth.
Hermione didn't know what she had been expecting, but nothing at all happened. Ron just stood there chewing rather loudly and looking through the sayings on the hearts. She thought, for a moment, about just letting him eat and not saying anything at all, but decided that would just be stupid. "Well, Ron, I…actually, I wanted to tell you that…"
Somehow, his chewing seemed to get louder, and she felt her eyes narrow. How would he ever hear her with all that commotion? He looked at her blankly, blinking and throwing more candy into his mouth.
"You know, I've always thought Viktor was nice—"
Ron snorted.
"Would it kill you to tolerate his name for once?"
He shrugged. "Maybe."
Oh, she should've known this was going to be impossible. "Ron, I don't care about Viktor. He is just my friend. It doesn't matter what his intentions are. I could never…fancy him. You see?"
Ron stopped eating candy. "Oh. Um. Okay."
Hermione made a very frustrated noise and crossed her arms over her chest. "Maybe I should try a different approach."
"To what?"
"Shut up."
"Okay."
They were silent for a moment as Hermione thought. She might as well just try the truth about where the candy came from. Glancing at Ron, she saw that he was waiting for her to speak. "All right," she murmured. "I didn't actually get this candy from my parents."
"Did you make it yourself?" he asked eagerly. "It's brilliant. Somehow, it tastes very familiar, even though I've never had it before."
"But you've had Chocolate Frogs before, haven't you?"
Ron paused. "Sure." He looked down at the bag of candy in his hands, and then back up at her. "Sorry, I'm not seeing a connection here. These look nothing like Chocolate Frogs, and believe me, I know a Chocolate Frog when I see one."
"Well, then, I really must be the cleverest witch in our year," she said, smiling.
He nodded. "I could've told you that. But…why do you say?"
She pointed at the candy. "Those used to be Chocolate Frogs. But I transfigured them into these candy hearts. I did receive them by owl post, but not from my parents, and not today. An owl was sent to me last night carrying a box of Chocolate Frogs—"
There was a light thunk sound as the bag of candy hearts dropped from Ron's hands and hit the Owlery floor. Ron was staring at her, his eyes wide. Hermione felt her cheeks redden. Everything seemed so stopped that even the hooting of the owls seemed very far away.
Very abruptly, Ron stood up and nodded slowly. "When you put it that way…I think I see a connection."
Hermione felt like owls were tugging her hair out of her head, but at the same time, she felt a strong urge to commend whoever had made concocted such brilliant candy. "And…how?" she asked, her voice strangled.
Ron laughed weakly and said, "How else? I wouldn't give up an opportunity to share candy like this with you."
"Oh. Well…thank you." The statement sounded very stupid, but she couldn't help but smile.
Tentatively, Ron reached out and took her hand in his. "No problem." He smiled and looked around at the peeved owls. "You know, in first year, when I said you were a nightmare?"
Hermione nodded and made a face. "How could I forget, you git."
"Ah," Ron replied, grinning.
"What about that day?" she asked, tightening the grip she had on his hand.
Ron nodded his head for a few seconds before he spoke. "That day, I decided…I'm very fond of nightmares."
FINITE INCANTATEM!
