Author's Notes: Many, many thanks to Amy, my wonderful beta. I wouldn't be the writer I am now without her. (It's up to you to figure out if that's a compliment, Amy!)
Two weeks, three days, four hours, and nineteen and one-half minutes. That's how long I have been dating The-Boy-Who-Won't-Die.
I'm dating Harry Potter.
I'm dating Harry Potter.
I'm dating Harry Potter.
I'M DATING HARRY POTTER.
Oh, blessed, beautiful day. Look! The sun! The clouds! Oh, but there are no clouds in my mind now…
I should stop rambling.
It's all thanks to Valentine's Day that we're together, you know. February 14th. That's a day that should be marked in history.
You see, it all started when Snape announced a project he wanted us to do…
* * *
"I have just received word that the O.W.L. Board has decided to add another potion to the list that fifth years are required to know. It's an advanced Sleeping Potion, one that will not only knock the drinker out for several hours, if not days, but that will also provide them with a dreamless sleep. It's a potion quite commonly used with Healers nowadays. I hope," he sneered, "that you are all taking notes, as I will be testing you on this."
There was a flurry for quills and parchment.
"However," he added. "This potion takes a full fourteen hours to brew, and must be tended to every second. So, I have arranged with the fifth year teachers to spend one day with each of my two fifth year Potions classes."
I was groaning inwardly, and, looking around, everyone else seemed to be too. Even the Ravenclaws can't enjoy learning with Snape teaching.
"For this class," he told us, "that day will be February the fourteenth."
There were indignant gasps throughout the room. People being to murmur wildly.
"But, Professor," I said boldly, standing, "that's Valentine's Day!"
"Your point, Ms. Weasley?"
"Well…I sort of wanted to…er…that is…" I turned a Weasley red, stumbling over my words.
"Please, Ms. Weasley, do regale us with tales of what you're going to do with Mr. Thomas," Snape told me, yawning. I glared at him.
"Well, that was uncalled for," I snapped back. I gasped at my own daring.
"Five points from Gryffindor for cheek, Ms. Weasley, and sit down and close your mouth before I make it ten."
* * *
Do you see what I have to put up with? It's not bad enough that I have six teasing older brothers, two overprotective parents, and no pet! No, we have to add an awful teacher to the mix. Isn't my life just peachy?
…Yes. Yes, it is. Because I'm DATING HARRY POTTER.
I've got to hold my horses. I'm not there yet. Where was I? Oh, yes, Snape was informing us that we were going to have to spend all of Valentine's Day with him. Smarmy git. I really wanted to spend it with Dean; we were seeing each other at the time. Fast-forward two months – Dean and I have broken up, and I had no qualms with getting out of seeing all the others gasp and cry happy tears about how sweet their boyfriends were, and how touching a gift this was. Here we are, Valentine's day, exactly two weeks, three days, four hours, and twenty four and three-quarters minutes ago. Oh! Twenty five minutes!
* * *
I managed to make it out of bed with little incident. I had been up late the night before, finishing an essay Snape was making us turn in that day – four feet! Honestly! Ron, seeing me in the Common Room at midnight (he and Harry had been off having an illegal game of Quidditch), took pity on me and told me he'd correct my essay.
I realized it was still in his room, so, slipping on a dressing gown and slippers, I padded down the stairs.
The entire Common Room was bloody pink and red. I hate those colors. Lavender, Parvati, and a few other girls were grinning in the corner, apparently waiting for me to admire their handiwork.
I shook my head at them. "Looks like a pink monster went crazy in here," I remarked as I headed up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. I am not a morning person.
Anyway, entering Ron's room, I headed straight to the top of his trunk, and there was my essay, neatly corrected (by Hermione, of course). I was going to leave when I looked around the room. Seamus had a pillow over his head, and Dean was quite unconcernedly sleeping…with cotton balls stuck in his ears. Harry, on the other hand, was sitting on his bed, looking like positively like he was going to vomit. Ron's drapes were closed, and I realized that there were some very funny noises coming from it.
Then I heard Hermione's voice, quite clearly, coming out from behind the curtain. "Ron, don't push so hard…ow…"
Can we say DISGUSTING?
I looked over at Harry and he pointed his finger down his mouth and made gagging noises. I made an executive decision.
I yanked open the covers of the bed.
This produced a rather odd reaction. Harry let out some sort of a strangled scream and dived onto his bed. Dean magically awakened and turned to face Ron's bed, and the pillow came off of Seamus' head.
"USE A BLOODY SILENCING CHARM!" I screamed. Pulling the covers back together, I skipped out of the room.
* * *
Okay, I have to admit, that had nothing to do with, well…anything. But it was rather funny, don't you think?
* * *
The day was excruciatingly long. The fumes from the Sleeping Draught were making me rather tired, and all I wanted to do was lay my head down on the table. Unfortunately, I couldn't do that with Snape hovering around like a hawk.
But, Merlin, it was exhausting. We were tediously stirring the potion, which had to be watched carefully, lest it start to boil. Stir…stir…stir…
It was so dry in the dungeons. There was no moisture in the air, none at all, and I was so parched. I mean, I'd had a glass of pumpkin juice at lunch, but my mouth was so dry.
Sighing, I shook my head and continued to stir my potion.
I thought I had remembered to pack a bottle of pumpkin juice, but I was awfully drowsy…Oh, yes, I had…there it was.
* * *
Clunk. That was the sound of my head hitting the table. In my own defense, the fumes were strong and I'm always disoriented when I'm sleepy. I didn't mean to grab a vial of the potion instead of my pumpkin juice. Stop looking at me like that; it's not my fault.
* * *
There was a horrible taste in my mouth.
It rather felt like when I was little and Mum would give me some sort of awful medicine. I'd choke it down, gagging all the way. And she'd put her hand on my forehead and make soothing noises.
Was I going crazy? I felt like her hand was there again, on my forehead. I could even hear the noises.
I tried very hard to open my eyes, but I couldn't. I began to cough, trying to rid myself of that taste.
"Shh…shh…Ginny, calm down," came a voice. Wait! I knew that voice!
"You have to try to open your eyes, Gin…"
I was a little confused, but I tried again to lift my heavy lids. It wasn't working.
"I can't," I told him.
"You have to try," he said. "You took a premature sleeping potion, and if you don't open your eyes soon, you might not ever again."
His hand was still on my forehead. "Please, Ginny, try."
It seemed like there were four hundred pound weights on my eyes. I tried so hard to lift them, but they weren't going anywhere.
"Let me help," he said, and he ran his fingers over my eyes.
"Stop that!" I laughed. "It tickles!"
"It tickles your eyes?"
"Yes!" I said, and even as I said it I could feel the tension in my eyes beginning to lift.
When I opened my eyes everything was bleary. The only thing that was clear was Harry's glasses, the black round frames were astoundingly distinct.
"You're lucky I was dropping off something for Snape," he told me. I think he was laughing, but I still couldn't see clearly. "I don't think he'd have even bothered to take you to the Hospital Wing."
"Yes, well, I'm ever so grateful to you," I told him, my mouth turning up at the corners.
"You should be. Er…Ginny?" His voice had gone all funny – kind of tight, and he sounded…apprehensive?
"Yes, Harry?" I asked. Something was a little off here.
I still couldn't see him clearly but his voice was trembling. He was looking around, his eyes darting from place to place. "I…er…that is…I wanted to…"
What?! I was thinking. Wanted to what?
He leaned forward, ever so slowly. And then…and then…I shut my eyes.
And then he kissed me.
Harry Potter kissed me. And it was on the lips. And it was of the French variety. And it was beautiful.
Happy Valentine's Day to me.
* * *
Do you see how beautiful that was? Amazing. Awe-inspiring. My life is a fairy tale, I tell you.
Well, except for the whole my getting possessed thing. And the thing about my boyfriend being on the run from the most evil wizard on earth. Oh, and the whole six-older-brothers-that-plan-on-beating-up-my-boyfriend thing.