Valentine's Day arrived a few weeks later with a mountain of new snow and a mind-numbing pile of gifts at the end of Harry's bed. Most were proposals of marriage, or something naughtier, like he'd received at Christmas, though this time they came with trinkets and boxes of chocolate. Those were immediately discarded, the chocolates left in the common room with a note for anyone to take them. The rest were declarations of love from fellow students, or young girls not yet old enough for Hogwarts. Many of them were from 'secret admirers'; it made Harry cringe at the cowardice of his devotees.

Throughout the day, in classes and at meals, he received a dozen or so more valentines, including one or two singing howlers, all before the midday meal had even ended. When the last howler had burned itself up with Harry looking on in disgust, the Boy Who Lived shoved away his lunch and put his head on the table.

"God, I hate today," He murmured into his folded arms.

A soft hand rubbed his back soothingly. "I know, Harry, but at least it's Friday. Tomorrow we can spend all morning burning the leftover letters." Hermione answered.

He turned his head and grinned at his friend. "That could be fun. I've always wondered what color a fire will turn if you throw cardboard and tin foil in at the same time."

Hermione laughed. "Turns blue…like, Ravenclaw blue. But see, you've got something to look forward to." She leaned forward to whisper almost inaudibly. "And besides, if I'm not wrong, you get to see a certain someone tonight. A late night stroll through the torch- and moonlit corridors with the one you love. Tell me you aren't looking forward to that."

Harry sat up, still grinning. "Yeah, yeah I really, really am. No better way to spend Valentine's, right?"

"Not that you'd know, you sorted knob," Hermione said endearingly, running a hand through his hair. "First real Valentine's for you, isn't it? And, no, that farce with Cho doesn't count."

The brunette boy chuckled. "Under those strict rules, I suppose it is. Not very romantic, since he doesn't know, but at least it'll be spent at his side." He leaned an elbow on the table and put his head in his hand, staring at his closest friend. "Enough about me and my pitiful love life. What about you and Ron? Any plans for your first official Valentine's as a couple? Where is that ponce anyway? He should be here plying you with gifts and poetry."

Hermione blushed and stared down at her plate. "He got a detention with Rogers for casting a stinging hex at Malfoy. As for tonight…well, Ron's invited me to meet him in the Room of Requirement for dinner, rather than coming to the Feast. I think he requisitioned Dobby to help. I-I'm thinking about…" She looked up apprehensively. "I think tonight might be the night, Harry."

"Don't, 'Mione," Harry said sternly, sitting up again. "You said you were going to wait. What happened to that?"

"I know, Harry, but Ron's been pressuring me, and now he's going to romance me in the room-of-anything-goes. What else am I supposed to do?" She pleaded.

"You say 'no'." Harry told her in his sternest tone. "And if he keeps pushing, then you slug him. You're Hermione Granger, the smartest girl in our year, possibly the smartest ever to attend Hogwarts, and you don't have to do anything that you don't want to, no matter what anyone says."

The witch looked back at her plate. "Thanks, Harry…you're right. I'm not ready yet. I'm not even sure I'm in love with Ron, why should I give him that secret part of me? But," She looked into his eyes imploringly. "What if he leaves me because I won't? Ron's my first real boyfriend since Victor, and I don't exactly have a ton of other boys vying for my attention."

Harry ignored it as yet another owl landed beside his plate with what he was sure was another Valentine. He scooted towards his friend on the bench and started gently moving her hair over her shoulder and away from her face. She leaned into his touch sadly.

"First off, if Ron dumps you because you said 'no', then I'll kill him myself. I don't care how long we've been friends." He said seriously. "Secondly, you are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes upon, not to mention the smartest. Any guy would be lucky to have you."

"You never went for me."

Harry pulled back, startled. "What? Hermione, I'm not- I love you, but, you're like my sister. And besides, I-"

"No, don't-" Hermione giggled. "I'm sorry, Harry, that's not what I meant. You're like my brother, really…it's just that you're different from other guys. You don't look at a beautiful girl and fall head-over-heels, you look past their face at what's underneath. It's enough to make a girl- make me wonder why you never saw anything in me. I mean, we know now, but…oh, you know what I mean."

The brunette grinned in understanding. "Okay, I see what you mean. You didn't really want me to, but you don't get why I didn't." He thought about it for a minute. "Well, if I'm totally honest, it's probably because, from the moment we became friends, or there about, I knew I loved you. You're my best friend, Hermione. Ron was my first friend, and he'll always have a place in my heart, but you mean more to me than…anyone. I did think about it, for a few months in our Second Year, when you were the only one who didn't think I was either Slytherin's heir or a nutter. But when you wound up petrified because I was hearing voices in the walls, I realized that I loved you too much to ever go out with you. It would dissolve our friendship, for better or worse, and that's something I couldn't let happen. I value our closeness more than anything."

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione cried, her eyes wet with unshed tears. She wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him into a fierce hug. "That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. I love you, too." She jerked away with a start. "Ouch! Stupid bird."

Both Gryffindors turned to look at the owl that was now standing at the edge of the table. "Must have a stubborn owner," Harry muttered. He looked over at his friend's hand. There was a ragged red scratch, but no blood. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine," Hermione demurred softly. "I think you better field this one, Harry, the bird is getting agitated. Maybe it's important?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Just another fanatic, probably." He reached over and removed the letter from the owl's leg. "I'm half-tempted to burn it without even opening it." He split open the seal on the parchment and unfolded the short letter. He frowned as he studied the tidy, looping scrawl. "It's from Rogers."

"Professor Rogers sent you a Valentine?" Hermione asked disbelievingly, leaning heavily on his shoulder to try and read the note.

Harry laughed. "No, he-no. He's asking me to come to his office tonight, before dinner, says he wants to discuss his offer further. Probably wants to know if I've made my decision."

"And have you?"

"I dunno," Harry admitted. "It's a really good offer, but…I don't know." He hadn't told her about his strange feeling, or Snape's veiled warning to stay away from the Defense Master. Even now, he saw no point in worrying her needlessly. "I guess I should come up with an answer by tonight, though."

Hermione smiled and ruffled his hair playfully. "Guess so, future-Professor Potter."