A thank you to my reader, Jessie Cage. And it's not over yet, dearie. It's not even close to done. Isn't that fun?

Anyhoo, on with chapter 2

I make my way down the dungeon halls, trying to get to my rooms as quickly as possible.

I enter through my chamber door, going over to my desk, wanting to grab that relaxing potion I brewed a few nights previous.

I shuffle through the mess of papers in the drawer, looking for the small vial that concealed the potion.

"Damn it, if I don't relax, I'm likely to kill myself with all this paranoia."

Defeated by none other than a little vial, I slump in my chair, taking a few deep breaths to try and relax.

"It's not as good as a potion, but it helps some." I mutter to myself.

I'm almost actually kind of relaxed, when I notice something on the end table of the couch once again.

I get up from my chair and walk over.

I find the same kind of envelope, the same lettering, the same silver-ish black ink. It was another Valentine.

"How the-, whu, what, HOW!?" I was flabbergasted. How the hell did anyone get a Valentine in here so quickly? Everyone was at breakfast!

Not knowing what to think, I open the damned Valentine, finding the same kind of heart as before, the same silver ink in the black heart, reading what it said:

Severus,

Hmm, you looked a bit confused at breakfast, but it makes me want to be with you even more.

You're a debonair kind of man. You don't show it too much, but I can tell, I see it when you look at me and I see those black, onyx eyes. You can tell much about a person when you look straight into their eyes.

Love,

Your Secret Admirer

". . . . ." I'm completely and utterly speechless. How in bloody hell did they get this in here!? How did they get here before me if everyone was at breakfast!?

I hate questions. You usually have one, then a hundred more pop up!

I crumple the evil, blasphemes, heart shaped Valentine and throw it to the floor, smashing it with my foot. Now I take my wand out and say a spell to the pathetic looking heart on the floor, making it burst into flames.

I smirk at my work. How I love to see a flaming heart on Valentines Day. If I could, I would set all Valentines that students received a flame.

Hmm, the last Valentine that I made burst into flames was when I was a student myself. . .

I quickly banish the thought from my mind. No time to visit memories from Hell right now. I have to gather my thoughts so I won't curse everyone that walks by me in a ten foot radius. . .although, it wouldn't be too bad either if I did. I smirk again as I leave my room to teach my first class of the day.

"I swear, those third years are the most idiotic students I have ever had the displeasure of teaching!" I say to myself as I watch the last of the third year Huffle Puff, and Raven Claws leave, one of them seeming to hear me quickens their pace.

I look at the tubes with their daily potion in them, none of them looking at all what they're supposed to look like.

Some of them blue, some of them black, some of them bubbling and shooting out sparks! A spark shoots out of the tube, I duck, barely missing it. The damn thing is supposed to be red and non-sparking!

I slump in my chair, putting my fingers to the bridge of my nose, ebbing away a headache.

And then there was that Valentine. A Hufflepuff girl was giving it to a blonde boy Ravenclaw under her desk. I couldn't let that happen, so what do I do? I of course snatch the thing and read it aloud:

Jeremy,

You're so cute, and your hair shines like the tapioca we had with lunch yesterday. What I'm saying is, would you be my Valentine?

Your Maybe Valentine,

Cindy

Sure, they were embarrassed beyond belief, but can you really blame me? You'd think that they would have enough sense not to exchange Valentines in their "snarky" Professor's class.

I take my hand away from my headache that just wouldn't go away, and now, just start to think, hands folded in my lap.

God, when did I become this "Snarky" man? Merlin, I hate the word snarky. What the hell does it mean anyway?

I guess it started mostly when I was in my fifth year. Yes, I was nasty before then, but it evolved more in fifth year.

So many things happened then. That damn Valentines Day. It's one of the reasons why I loathe this day so much now. My eyes start to drift close as I remember that day from Hell. . .

"Come on, Severus! We're going to be late for Potions!"

"Okay, Lucious. Just give me a second to find my other tie."

"Honestly, I don't know how you could let that damn Black get a hold of your tie and turn it into poison ivy. By the way, how's that rash doing on your neck?"

"It's like a hand is massaging my neck, how the hell do you think it is!? It's like a hundred pixies are biting it!"

"No need to be rude. I'm going. Catch up when you find your less itchy tie." and he was gone.

I'm left all alone to search for my missing tie, looking high and low, in my trunk, under my bed, now in the bed side table, something catches my eye. Something just sitting on the bed. How could I have not noticed this before?

It was a card. Just a plain envelope with my name in blue cursive on the front.

I open it, and find a red card, a pink heart on the front. I now open it, and find the same blue ink in a message form:

Severus,

I like you. Your hair, your face, I like it all. Would you do me the honor of being my Valentine?

-Anonymous

I eyes open in a flash as I realize my teeth were clenched and my hands were now on the arms of the chair, clawing it with a vice like grip.

"You must be playing a cruel joke on me, God, if you're doing the same thing to me twice." I spit out the last word as if it were the most disgusting thing to say. And it really was. I now hate this day more than I can even comprehend!

I now just notice how much of a grip I had on the chair. My knuckles were white, and I think there was a few pieces of the arm chair wedged in my finger nails.

I let go, seeing that I was right. I pick the pieces of chair from my finger nails, and now cross my arms over my chest.

God, I hate this day.

And that was chapter 2 folks. Hope you enjoyed. Reviews are greatly appreciated, for they are the life force of writers.

Bye for now.