Valentine’s Day

The words didn’t put a spring in Harry Potter’s step, or a song in his heart. They twisted his stomach into knots.

Somehow, he’d gone and asked Cho Chang to Hogsmeade on Valentine’s Day. He hadn’t meant to. It was just that she’d seemed to want to go, and he finally got the hint, and now he was walking beside the girl he’d wanted to be with for so long.

The village was filled with strolling couples holding hands. Did Cho expect him to hold hers? He felt so awkward, reaching for her hand. She stopped abruptly and gazed into a shop window. Harry brought his fingers up to smooth his unruly black hair down. Had she noticed his lame attempt? Her sparkling black eyes were riveted to a display of dress robes. Thank Merlin, she hadn’t.

~

Cho smiled at her reflection in the window. Those ice blue dress robes would look amazing on me. She glanced at Harry, pleased that he seemed to be aware of how fortunate he was. She could’ve chosen to spend Valentine’s Day with a dozen other boys. Instead, she honoured the only one who’d been with her Cedric when he died.

Tears welled, but she blinked them back. It wouldn’t do to have a splotchy complexion. She turned Harry and smiled mistily. They resumed their stroll along the streets of Hogsmeade. 

Cho frowned when raindrops started flattening her hair. Since Harry seemed oblivious, she suggested they go grab a cup of coffee at Madam Puddifoot’s.

~

The place reminded Harry of Umbridge's office. Hope the frilly stuff doesn’t cover creepiness here. The bow and lace bedecked teashop brought unhappy memories to mind. He warily eyed the golden cupids hovering overhead, not looking forward to having pink confetti tossed at him.

They sat at a table in front of the shop window. Good thing it was fogged up by all the steaming teapots. Harry didn’t want to be a display for passer-by to gawk at.

The Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain was sitting close by with his date. Harry noticed Cho watching the other couple hold hands. She had to drag her eyes away to order coffee from Madam Puddifoot.

After the silence between them lengthened awkwardly, Cho said, “Umbridge is awful, isn’t she?”

Eagerly, he agreed. They had a good time running the ‘Inquisitor’ down. After that conversational gambit was exhausted, they sat smiling at each other.

“Mmmm…”

Roger Davies and his date had gone from holding hands to snogging. Harry tried to pretend that he didn’t hear the sounds. What if Cho wanted him to hold her hand and snog her? Their one kiss in the Room of Requirement wasn't one he particularly wanted to re-enact. He tried not to remember, but it was no use. A scene flashed into mind.

~

“Mistletoe,” said Cho, looking up.

"Yeah, it's probably full of nargles too." Harry could have hexed himself. Why in the blazes was he thinking and talking about Loony Luna when Cho Chang was moving nearer?

She came so close Harry noticed Cho had a few freckles sprinkled across her perfect nose. The sight short-circuited his brain. He couldn’t think, couldn’t move, could only see the tears shimmering on her eyelashes and rolling down her cheeks.

A panicked feeling made it hard to breathe. This wasn’t the way he’d imagined a first kiss! He’d dreamt about drowning in black pools, but not once had he envisioned swimming in tears that poured from puffy red eyes. The perfect nose had not-so-perfect drops of moisture dripping from it. Her lips were pretty, but they were trembling with sadness, not excitement.

Cho’s mouth touched his. The kiss wasn’t very pleasant. It was wet. The moisture that transferred from her face to his made him shudder, and not in a good way. Bizarrely, a phrase from an old Muggle film Uncle Vernon loved- Ghostbusters- popped into his head.

She slimed me.

~

While Harry sat remembering, Cho impatiently waited for him to snap out of the trance her loveliness had undoubtedly sent him into. She enviously watched Roger kiss that blonde who probably didn’t even know that she was his second choice. He’d wanted to go with her, but she'd picked Harry instead.

What a bad move that was turning out to be. It was nice to be worshipped, but a little verbal appreciation would make all the soulful looks even better.

Harry got a grip and then completely lost it by asking her along to go meet Hermione Granger at the Three Broomsticks after their date. To prove she too had other options, Cho announced that Roger had asked her out.

Harry fumbled with the sugar bowl in surprise that turned into callousness. All she’d done was mention that she’d been with Cedric there the year before. Couldn’t Harry spare a few moments to talk about the boy who had died at his feet without even a word about her? Did he have to mention Quidditch?

Who cared about the Tornadoes when she needed to express how deeply her loss had affected her? Ask questions about how her love died? Harry could talk to Hermione about it, but not her?

Tears of disillusionment flowed. She was so choked up, she could barely tell him off in front of an entire tea room full of avid listeners. After a meaningful, sidelong glance at Roger, Cho made a dramatic exit.

~

Stunned by what had happened, Harry listened to the ironically joyful tinkling sound the door made upon closing, wondering why he’d even bothered to try his hand at romance. He was lousy at it.

He didn’t understand women. Why had Cho wanted to talk about sad things on a day that was supposed to be happy? And how could she cry so much?

He ran through the cold, hard rain to the Three Broomsticks and chatted with Hagrid before Hermione waved him over to a table where she waited with Luna and that nosy reporter Rita Skeeter. Luna smiled dreamily at him. It made Harry feel bad for calling her loony.

Hermione had a great plan to have Rita tell the ‘real’ story about You-Know-Who. Luna’s father would publish it in The Quibbler.

Skeeter wasn’t thrilled with the idea of no pay, but Hermione's reminder that an unregistered Animagus got time in Azkaban made the woman get out her Quick-Quotes Quill in a hurry.

After the interview, Luna offered to share her umbrella shaped like a full moon on the walk back to Hogwarts. Hermione was going to wait for Ron, but Harry accepted the offer. People were already going to think him barmy once that story came out after the one on Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. Why not go for broke and be seen with Loony Lovegood? He might as well get used to being called Potty.

Inside the castle, he looked down into Luna's serene face and thought she would be pretty if she didn’t wear raw radishes for earrings. Not that cooked ones would be better, but that kind of quirkiness lessened attractiveness almost as much as gross kisses. Grimacing at the thought, Harry was startled when Luna pulled him to a halt by the dungeon stairway and asked, “Would you do me a favour?”

Well, he did owe her one for the interview. He looked down curiously. “What?”

Pale pink lips curved. “I’m trying to get over a fear of the dark. If I go into a dark dungeon, and nothing bad happens, I should be cured.” Ruefully, she admitted, “I just don’t want to go alone.”

That was rather brave of her. He wouldn't mind helping. He said, “Sure, I’ll come along.” 

Luna's smile made her blue eyes sparkle. Harry had never seen her look so animated. She looked less like an otherworldly creature and more like…a girl. A pretty girl with long, blonde hair and thick, curling eyelashes.

Uncomfortable with the realisation that he’d been eyeing a fourth year who'd worn a life-sized lion’s head as a hat, he said brusquely, “Let’s go.”

Dungeon five was currently unused. The moment the door closed, the cold chamber was plunged into darkness.

Immediately, Luna began to babble, “This isn’t so bad. Yes, its pitch black, and I can’t see anything, and something could be hiding in here, waiting for me to let my guard down so that it can come and I don’t know what, really, but I’m okay.” Several ragged breathes sounded. “Harry," she said in a small voice, "I’m not okay.”

He smiled in the dark. “Come here, Luna. I’ll distract you.” He meant that he’d talk to her, but she had a different idea.

“You will? Oh, Harry!”

Soft lips pressed against his in a tentative kiss. Did she have radar of some kind? The paralysed- I don’t know what to do, so I’m just going to stand here- feeling was back.

His lack of response didn’t faze Luna. Her mouth brushed back and forth and then melded to his lips. Fingers slid into his hair, holding him in place while she kissed him gently, and then with more enthusiasm.

By the time she traced his lips with the tip of her tongue, Harry was returning the kiss. The pressure was sweet, not soggy. He felt good inside instead of thoroughly miserable. Slowly, he lifted his hands to stroke down long, silky hair. When he started rubbing circles on a slender back, Luna sighed. Suddenly, he was consumed with the urge to make her moan. Parting her lips wider, he started to glide his tongue along hers.

The door to the dungeon flung open, spilling light inside. They sprang apart.

“What is the meaning of this, Mr. Potter?”

The cold drawl couldn’t disguise malicious glee. Narrowing his eyes against the light, and at the malevolent bat curling a lip, Harry said curtly, “Nothing. Luna wanted to overcome her fear of the dark.”

Black eyes glittered in the torchlight with something the boy had never seen in them before. Sallow fingers waved them out of the dungeon.

Luna looked at Harry with large eyes and red, shiny lips. His attention was diverted in the corridor by the unholy sight of a brief smile flickering across Snape's face.

The professor repeated silkily, “Fear of the dark? How interesting. Tell me, Miss Lovegood, why did you not share this fear when I asked you to retrieve a pickled specimen from that dungeon last week?”

Luna threw an entreating look at Harry. “It comes and goes?”

A slight sneer curled thin lips. “How convenient. Return to your Houses at once.”

Harry’s face burned. That…that loony had tricked him! She’d lured him down to the dungeon on false pretences. The only thing she’d wanted was…him….

Once they’d returned to the main corridor, Luna said in a small voice, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Harry.”

He stared at the girl moving toward Ravenclaw House. Incredulous, he called, “Aren’t you going to say that you’re sorry?”

Luna half turned and gave him a Mona Lisa smile. “No, because I’m not sorry.” Waggling her fingers, she drifted off. Harry watched her go, feeling gobsmacked. Lips that had experienced what a kiss should be twitched with reluctant humour. 

He heard someone call his name and pivoted to see Ron and Hermione. “We heard about your incident with Cho in the tea shop and hurried back. Are you all right?” Hermione asked in a low, sympathetic voice.

A hand raised to trace his upturned lips, Harry replied, “Yeah, maybe even brilliant.” Grinning over Ron’s confusion, he challenged his mate to a game of wizard chess.