Reasons for Hating Valentine's Day by mysticdueler

Rating: G
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 14/02/2005
Last Updated: 14/02/2005
Status: Completed

Here's a Valentine's fic for all the people out there. Something funny, yet fluffy.




1. Hermione's Reasons for Hating Valentine's Day
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A/N: Okay, here's my contribution for Valentine's Day. I wanted to do something nice,
happy, funny, and a little fluffy. Part of me doesn't know why, just to have fun. The other
part to prove I'm not a sadistic @*&#. Believe it or not, I am the same guy who does the
Re-Awakening story! Hehe, surprise, surprise! Like I say, I'm not a bad guy, just a good guy
tormented by bad plots . . . or something like that. Anyway, tell me how I did!

Disclaimer: Hmm, if I slip the poison in her tea . . . whoops! Sorry, didn't see you there.
What? Murder plots on J.K. Rowling's life? Never! Just because she owns the immensely popular
and successful world of Harry Potter that I desperately want, doesn't mean I'd kill for it!
*Looks left, then right* Well, okay, maybe just a little . . . All right, all right, enough
babbling. On with the show!

Reasons to Hate Valentine's Day

Hermione Granger sat in her favorite chair near the fireplace in the Gryffindor Common Room;
Crookshanks curled comfortably in her lap and her favorite copy of *Hogwarts: A History* in
her hands. To anyone passing by, she looked like she was delved deep into her reading, so deep that
she wouldn't have even noticed is someone set off a Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-Bang right
under her.

However, Hermione wasn't actually reading. She was trying to, but was rather distracted. The
current source of annoyance was a couple sitting not more than ten feet away from her, snogging
each other as if they were some kind of perverted vampires, with hormone problems, no less! She
snapped her book shut loudly, which had absolutely no effect on the otherwise engaged couple, but
which startled a sleeping Crookshanks, who dashed off. Huffing loudly, Hermione stormed out of the
Common Room. Normally, being the prefect that she was, she would have put an end to the public
spectacle long ago, and perhaps even doled out some detentions; she *had* been known to do so
before. The one thing stopping here was today's date: February 14, St. Valentine's Day.
Ooh, how she detested this day!

“I'll go to the library,” Hermione said to herself. “The library is always peaceful, and
Madam Pince surely would never allow such behavior!”

However, Hermione was sorely mistaken. As she walked into the library, she could see around half
a dozen couples sitting at the tables, all in various stages of making out. Taking to the shelves,
Hermione figure that she would find a nice, quiet, out-of-the-way place se could sit, read, and not
be disturbed. Hermione was highly disappointed, therefore, when she discovered that half the school
seemed to have beaten her there, although they didn't quite share in her noble intentions.

`Ugh! What is wrong with people? Can't they control themselves? They're in the library,
for Merlin's sake!' Hermione thought as she spotted, for what had to have been the
hundredth time that day, a couple immersing themselves in the books. Suddenly, the boy's hand
reached down and squeezed the girl's butt, and the girl responded by letting out a soft moan.
“Oh really!” Hermione huffed out as she quickly turned and stalked out of the library, blushing
slightly.

`I know, I'll just go outside and find a nice spot near the lake! That'll be perfect!
There's plenty of space outside; no need to bother anyone.' Hermione was soon to be found
walking towards the Front Doors, bouncing slightly and wearing a small smile. As soon as she threw
open the doors and stepped out into the bright sunshine, she stopped her stride mid-bounce, and her
smile turned into a scowl so fast that anyone watching would have sworn they briefly saw two mouths
instead of one. `Bloody . . . sodding . . .' Hermione let out a deep breath she had been
holding, and stared toward the lake, her path blocked by dozens upon dozens of picnic blankets
(though very little picnicking was actually being done). Further on, she could easily see a
veritable ring of couples surrounding the water's edge. `Well, at least I know where the rest
of the school is . . .'

Hermione turned and began walking back into the castle. `Looks like I've found something
else to add to my list.' In her mind's eye, Hermione saw list she had been making all
morning:

Hermione Granger's Reasons to Hate St. Valentine's Day


It always comes, every year


All the girls become chattering twits


People seem to loose control of all ration thought processes


Everyone has someone but me


In her mind she added another number to the list.


All the quiet, peaceful reading spots are being used for, *that!*


By this time, Hermione had wandered through the castle and found herself standing at the end of
a very familiar corridor . . .

`Of course! Why didn't I think of it in the first place! *The Room of
Requirement!*' As she sprinted toward the spot where she knew the door to be hidden, she saw
that it was, at this point in time, not hidden. That was the last straw for Hermione. She stormed
up to the door, grabbed the handle, and began to shout as she opened the door. “That's IT!
I've had it! Ronald Weasley, if I find you in here snogging Luna again, I swear I'll . . .”
But exactly what she was going to do flew right out the window as she walked in and saw, not Ron,
but,

“Harry?” Hermione gulped. `Oh no, oh no, oh, crap!' You see, another reason that Hermione
detested Valentine's Day lay in the be-speckled boy standing in front of her. Hermione Granger,
the super-smart bookworm and top witch of her year, had a huge crush on Harry Potter, the sodding
Boy-Who-Lived. Her *best friend* Harry Potter. “Er, um, s-sorry about that, Harry. I, well, um
. . .” Hermione's voice died down, and she looked down at the floor, feeling extremely
embarrassed.

“It's alright, Hermione. I could actually use some company right now, especially yours.”
Hermione looked up and noticed that Harry looked like he had a lot on his mind, almost as if he was
depressed.

“What's wrong, Harry? You look kind of down. Everything all right?” As she said this,
Hermione walked over and sat down next to Harry on the couch the Room had provided. She looked
around at the contents of the Room, and her guess about Harry being depressed, or at least having a
lot of heavy thoughts on his mind, was proven correct. The room itself felt rather small, although
exactly how big it was Hermione couldn't see because the only light came from a small fireplace
situated directly in front of the couch. The couch, though soft and comfortable, was a depressing
blackish-gray color, and she couldn't even begin to guess what color the walls were. Other than
that, the room was bare.

Harry looked over at her, sighed, and said, “I'm just thinking. This time of the year always
does that to me. Never really had any love in my life before. Sure, there's always my parents,
but I can't remember them. The Dursleys made it their personal jobs to make sure I was never
happy. Here, people have worshiped me, hated me, lampooned me, and then worshiped me again. I just
don't know anymore.”

Hermione scooted over and gave Harry a hug, allowing herself a bit of self-indulgence. `Poor
Harry, he really has had a hard life, and it hasn't been getting any easier. Oh, I wish I could
just take away all his pain, his worries, his troubles.' Harry returned her hug, sending a
small shiver down her spine. Resting his head on her shoulder, he whispered, “Thank you,
Hermione.”

Hermione reluctantly pulled away, asking “For what, Harry?”

“For always being there, for being you. Without you, I'd be dead several times over. I guess
I've always kind of taken you for granted, and the fact that you've always been there for
me. I - when you were hurt at the Department of Mysteries (which I will forever apologize for), I
almost lost it. I don't know what would have happened if you had died. That's when it hit
me just how important you really are.”

Hermione's heart began to beat faster. Surely, he wasn't . . . he *couldn't* .
. . could he? “What do you mean, Harry?” Hermione asked, waiting with baited breath for his answer.
`Why should it matter how he answers, he'll never see me in that way.'

Harry looked away, at the fire. His face went slack, and it was clear he was taking a moment to
recall memories. Slowly, he turned and faced her again before he began, “Hermione, loosing Sirius
was hard. Incredibly hard. But, I've managed to put it behind me, to get over it, mostly thanks
to your help.” Harry paused, reached out and clasped his hands around one of hers, all without
breaking eye contact. “I was able to overcome his death, but I could never get over yours. If you
were to die, I honestly believe that I would not be far in following. Hermione, you are my reason
for living, for carrying on, and the reason I will defeat Voldemort.” Harry took a deep breath,
almost as if he was preparing to take a huge jump. Hermione's heart was jack hammering now, and
breathing was starting to become difficult. “Hermione, I love you.”

Hermione felt as if she could fly! Harry loved her! Harry loved her! Harry bloody Potter LOVED
HER!!! Hermione was content to die a happy girl, right there on the spot. A moment later, she
changed her mind. A moment later, Harry bent down and kissed her; lightly and gently on the lips.
NOW she could die happy. After a few seconds, Harry pulled back slightly, looking a little worried.
“Hermione . . .” Harry began, but Hermione would have none of it.

“Shut up.” Hermione then wrapped one arm around his neck, pulled his head down and properly
thanked him for his kiss with one of her own.

*****

As Hermione lay awake at night, trying to go to sleep, she couldn't help but think back on
her day and smile. Harry loved her, and he was now hers! Suddenly, the image of Hermione's list
floated up out of the back of her mind. She wiped it blank, hesitated, then began to imagine a new
set of numbers. When she finished, she smiled, rolled over, and went to sleep, thinking of her new
list:

Hermione Granger's Reasons to Hate St. Valentine's Day


It only comes once a year


I become a chattering twit


I can't seem to completely loose my control of my rational thought processes


Everyone has someone but me


All the best snogging spots are taken!


A/N: So, I hope you liked! Have a very special Valentine's Day filled full of love, while I
sit over here in my corner all alone . . . (god I'm so pathetic, seventeen and haven't even
had a girlfriend . . )

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