A/N- Well, I told you it would be slow going. And it is, super slow. I apologize. But I've got this chapter up at least, so please enjoy and R/R! Also, I'll take any requests/ideas you want to throw at me…I aim to please.
"—A Valentine's Masquerade!" Dumbledore said triumphantly, grinning around the hall. Fred and George cheered loudly, and minor clapping ensued, but the majority of the hall appeared to be confused. "Has he gone mad?" Snape whispered desperately to Lupin, who happened to be the only one within whispering distance.
As much as the two didn't really get along, Lupin tended to agree with Snape on this one. The two didn't have time to discuss it further, however, as Professor Dumbledore seemed to realize that no one knew what he was talking about.
"I take it from the darting eyes and tentative clapping that not many of you are aware of this ancient tradition," he said bemusedly, as if it was very surprising that the general student body had not heard of a tradition that hadn't taken place since perhaps the '70s, "Unfortunately, judging by the faces of my colleagues, I would be remiss in keeping you from your classes any further. Therefore, I leave you to find out throughout the day, and we will continue to discuss exactly what festivities will ensue at tonight's dinner!"
Dumbledore sat down rather pleased with himself as the entire student body of Hogwarts rushed out of the Great Hall. He had never seen them so eager to get to class. The professors, on the other hand, were not so eager. "Dumbledore, have you lost your mind?" Snape hissed more loudly once a fair amount of students had left the hall.
Even McGonagall looked a little worried. "When you said dance, Albus, I thought you meant something more along the lines of last year's Spring Ball…do you realize what chaos this will cause?" she asked, trying to be gentle in telling him that he had really lost it this time.
"Dumbledore, at least do us all a favor and don't invite Sirius," Lupin said regretfully, "He's my best friend and I love him, but this is going to cause enough madness without his wildness." Dumbledore smiled sheepishly. The invitations had already been sent, and Lupin had spoken too late.
"I understand you all question my sanity on this matter, but I entreat you to go to class and drum up some spirit for this fascinating event. Honestly, February is such a bland month; we need something exciting to spice it up," the Headmaster attempted to explain himself. Extremely skeptical but without much choice, the lingering professors made their way to their classes.
Snape had always hated having to teach Gryffindor/Slytherin Double Potions, but he had never hated it so much as that morning. "Professor, you are going to tell us what the Headmaster was on about, aren't you?" Draco drawled when Snape entered the room looking more like an overgrown bat than ever.
"Yes, please?" Hermione echoed, curious despite herself about this apparently age-old tradition. Somehow, in all her readings of Hogwarts, a History, she seemed to have missed anything about a Valentine's Masquerade. The Potions Master had had no plans to tell his class about Professor Dumbledore's ludicrous idea, but the fact that even Hermione didn't know what was to happen seemed to inspire him to share.
"Something Miss Granger doesn't know?" he said silkily, "Ah well, for something like this that is to be expected. The Valentine's Masquerade is, as Dumbledore said, an ancient tradition. It is also one that has not been attempted since I was at school, mainly due to the raging hormones you lot seem to possess in great quantities."
"It is, of course, a dance in honor of Valentine's Day. However, your partners are assigned through a mystery Cupid, rather like the Blind Date show that accompanied last year's Spring Ball. While you are not required to stay with your partner throughout the dance, you must kiss them at midnight. The key word there is must, and I cannot emphasize enough how imperative it is that you take the Masquerade incantation seriously."
He finally stopped to take a breath, and opened the gates for a flood of whispering. "Sounds like a blast!" Ron said, looking to Harry and Hermione for encouragement. He got it from the excited look in Harry's eyes, but Hermione looked just as skeptical as McGonagall had talking to Dumbledore. "I'm not sure. Professor Snape sounded awfully serious about the necessity of kissing your partner at midnight. And what if this 'mystery Cupid' is as stupid as the gangster sock?"
"Please Granger. Nobody could be as stupid as that sock, thinking you and I were a perfect match," Draco sneered, his lip curling at the misfortune of hearing the voice of Gryffindor's resident know-it-all so early in the morning. Hermione glared back at him, unfazed, while Ron seethed and let Harry hold him back.
The gossip would have continued until dinner had their schedule been different. However, Professor Snape had never been much for letting his students enjoy life. He also had no desire to talk about an event that he had been trying to forget since he could remember.
"Silence!" he finally snapped, eyes flashing around the room, "Next person who says a word about any Valentine's Masquerade will write me two rolls of parchment on the value of keeping your mouth shut, due tomorrow." This would normally have been enough to silence any sane student, but the clear discomfort in Snape's voice made it difficult for any of them not to laugh.
"Detentions all around!" Snape snarled, trying to keep up as little bursts of laughter cropped up all over the room. It was hopeless. No one could keep a straight face. "Damn you all! Two rolls…keeping your mouth shut…CLASS DISMISSED!" he sputtered, waving one black-cloaked arm towards the door.
Such loud cheering had not been heard for a very long time throughout the halls of Hogwarts. Now, in addition to the prospect of a very exciting and mysterious Valentine's dance, one lucky class had managed to get out of Potions for the day.
"This is bloody brilliant!" Ron exclaimed as he, Harry, and Hermione made their way past the Fat Lady into the Gryffindor common room. "Bloody brilliant is right, little brother," Fred echoed, poking his head around from behind a couch where he and George had been plotting, "Did you manage to get yourself a clue?"
Between Harry and Ron, the twins managed to get the idea that the Valentine's Masquerade involved some sort of incantation, there was some sort of Cupid involved, that it was extremely important to kiss your partner at midnight, and that Professor Snape was absolutely nuts. "Well, sounds like you got the gist of it," George said, a smirk struggling to remain hidden, "But did he mention the bit about raging hormones? Because that's the best part..."
"Well are you going to tell us, or just sit there and smirk?" Hermione asked, a surprising edge to her voice. Ron attributed it to the fact that for once the brunette didn't know exactly what was going on. Harry was beginning to wonder if it was just the opposite, and that she knew something they didn't. Fred and George seemed to be on the verge of saying something when a mob of people rushed into the common room. The cherished lunch break had just begun.
"Alright Weasley, I just sat through a whole History of Magic class thinking of nothing but what the hell you're on about, and Professor Binns didn't stop lecturing long enough for anyone to ask any questions. Spill, or you're not coming near these lips until we graduate," Angelina said, smiling in spite of the accusatory note in her voice.
Fred's ears immediately perked up. "That's my girl," he said proudly, pulling her down onto the couch between him and George, "Have a seat, everyone, and let George and me tell you a little story. It goes something like this."
"Once upon a time there were two excruciatingly good-looking young lads with vibrant red hair. One dull January day, they got tired of sitting in front of the blazing Gryffindor fire and decided to find something entertaining that could perhaps work the school into a proper uproar. After all, what's Hogwarts without a little chaos now and again. Anyway, after searching our brains and finding nothing of interest other than the usual dying Snape's hair pink or filling the Prefect's Bath with grape juice, we decided to do the only logical thing we could think of."
"So we called upon the king of pranks and all magical marauder mischief, a man almost but not quite as incredibly good-looking as ourselves. The dashing and drunk Sirius Black managed to disentangle himself from his ice cream sundae long enough to tell us about one fine day back when he was at school and his raging hormones led him to attempt to reinstate an age-old tradition known as the Valentine's Masquerade. Following his lead, we did the only other logical thing we could think of, which was of course to talk to Dumbledore…"