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Draco's slouch remained with him throughout the afternoon. He was reprimanded several times by teachers for not paying attention, although he didn't notice. By the time everyone was walking down to dinner Slytherin had fewer house points than they had earlier in the day, all thanks to Draco Malfoy. He was receiving death glares from the other members of his house, and still he was wrapped up in the thoughts that had caught him up at lunch time. How to humiliate Harry Potter?
It was just as he reached the Great Hall that the answer hit him. People stared in wonder as his posture suddenly corrected itself. He dashed away from the hall, and dinner, to write a letter.
Blaise followed his friend at a distance, wondering what had made Draco off balance for so long. When Draco reached the owlery, Blaise was even more curious, but all he saw Draco do was write a letter, mutter a brief enchantment, 'Probably so that no one can recognise his handwriting,' Blaise mused. He shrugged, no longer interested, and wandered back to the Great Hall. Less than a minute after sitting down in his seat and tucking in to dinner, Draco plonked himself down beside Blaise, again forgetting his Pureblood grace. A smirk graced his lips, and there was a twinkle in his eye, and Blaise realised that what he had seen Draco writing was no ordinary letter, and he was about to see the prank that Draco had promised.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Harry was halfway through his second helping of lasagne when the owl flew into the hall. Most students looked up immediately at the sudden appearance of the bird this late in the day. Those who were too caught up in there dinner to notice were soon coerced by their friends to pay close attention. The owl seemed to be in no hurry. It flew in several lazy circles before landing carefully next to Harry's plate.
Harry stared at the letter clutched in the owl's beak. It seemed at first to be a howler in the dusky light of the Great Hall, but on closer inspection, the envelope was not red, but pink. Harry grimaced, remembering last year how many people had got these letters. They were, in a way, similar to howlers, but at the same time much worse. Someone had developed the idea just in time for Valentine's Day the previous year. The card would smoke, burst open and scream, just as a howler, but it would spout a love message at its intended recipient instead of nasty words. Harry reached for it, hoping to get to it and run from the room before it made a sound. The owl hastily moved the letter out of his way. It walked towards Ron, who was sitting straight across from Harry, dropped it on the boy's plate, and took off without a second glance. The room was silent.
The terrified look on Ron's face was soon matched by a look of horror on Harry's as the letter burst open to reveal the voice of Harry Potter declaring his undying love for his best friend. Harry couldn't believe his ears, but apparently the rest of the occupants of the Great Hall trusted theirs, because as soon as the letter had finished loudly telling everyone that Harry wanted to be Ron's Valentine, they began whispering. To Harry's disappointed amazement, the first words from Hermione's mouth were "You could have trusted me enough to tell me," before she stormed out of the hall. People up and down the Gryffindor table kept offering him nervous congratulations, and wondering why they never noticed his homosexual tendencies before. Harry knew he wouldn't be able to talk them out of it.
Without a glance back, he stormed from the Great Hall. He didn't follow Hermione to the Gryffindor Tower, but instead headed for the grounds, intending to let the cool spring winds cool him off.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Blaise clapped Draco on the back as soon as they had reached the Slytherin common room. "That was brilliant," he mock whispered gleefully. "How on earth did you pull that off? I saw you writing the letter, but I never knew you could make one sound like someone else. You HAVE to teach me that!" The other Slytherins overheard Blaise's enthusiastic appraisal of Draco's work, and offered their sincere congratulations as well. Someone had finally managed to humiliate the boy who lived.
Draco smirked. He was pleased that he had been able to pull it off. He knew it had been a long shot, given that he hadn't payed any attention as to whether Harry Potter had spent the year chasing girls, but the look on the Golden Boy's face when he heard his voice coming from the letter, and the way the Mudblood had stormed out of the room made his victory that much sweeter. He let himself be pulled in for a long night of discussion on the spell that he had used, and was prepared to butter it up as much as he could.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Harry made sure to stay away from Hagrid's cabin. He wished he could talk to the half-giant about this, explain that there had been a misunderstanding, but as far as anyone knew there was no way to change whose voice came out of a howler or its Valentine's equivalent. Hagrid would never believe that he hadn't sent it.
Oddly enough, it was at that moment Harry realised that he felt more alone than he ever had in his life. At least at the Dursley's he had been able to talk to his aunt, uncle and cousin, and when they had stopped talking after he came to Hogwarts, he had been able to talk to Hedwig and his friends. The owl would provide him little comfort now, he knew. He wanted to talk to someone who would believe this was all a mistake, one who might even listen to him rather than simply walk off in the other direction. Sirius would be the ideal option, but it would be about as safe for Harry to send him a letter as it would be to not bow to a hippogriff before taking its feathers.
Harry sighed and watched the moonlight reflect off the lake. The castle was hidden from his sight by a large bush, and Hagrid's cabin was in the opposite direction. Here no one could bother him. It was warm enough that he felt he could lie out here without his robe on. He pulled it off, bundled it up, and tried to use it as a pillow. As his head touched it, he felt something crinkle. He pulled out the object that had caused his discomfort and gasped. He paused, hoping no one had heard him, and then looked at the letter that he had received that morning. If he ever wanted to talk to someone, he could.
Harry composed the letter in his head as he lay on the grass. The moonlight wasn't quite bright enough to write by, so he waited until he knew that his dorm-mates would be in bed, before setting off to the owlery to write and send his letter to his mysterious Valentine.