This was originally inspired by the song of the same name, and by the quote by Neil Gaiman, given below as part of the story. It is (obviously) not part of the series of vignettes in my Warming Trend series, but it does have one of those adorable heart-warming, cavity-inducing, sweet little endings that kind of make me wonder what the hell I was thinking when I wrote it. Enjoy.

SSHP

"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love". Neil Gaiman

What is Neil Gaiman saying here? Well, there is the obvious, of course: That love can kill you with just a few words. But I think he's saying that love is what it is cracked up to be at the same time. You look at this statement and see a cynic, a man whose heart was broken and wants nothing more to do with love. But I see a man who has seen the ins and outs of love and seen its every secret. Because he's right, isn't he? You can fall in love at the slightest provocation, if enough interest is had. And the one you love can just as easily tear you down. It's the same reason we say there is a thin line between love and hate. You're interested, believe it or not. Sure, you hate them, but something keeps you looking at that person and wondering how next to get under their skin and inside their head. If one thing changes, just one…He or she says something kind, or supportive. You exchange a moment of understanding across a room, or in a dark corner. You smile at how ridiculous you're both being…All it takes is one limited interaction, and your heart has been touched. Then it isn't yours anymore. And no matter how hard you try, you'll never get all of it back. Even when he or she returns to normal interaction with you, you can't recall the animosity, and you can't take back your heart. Because now it's theirs, and when that sharp tongue, biting wit, or quick fist leaves its mark, you'll ignore it at first. You knew it'd happen, after all, didn't you? One moment of understanding doesn't erase years of enmity. But give it a day, perhaps a little less, and you'll find yourself crying for no perceivable reason. Maybe not in public, maybe not even visible to any who dare to look. But you're crying, on the inside. And you will for weeks, months, sometimes years. Life goes on, and you can't explain why you don't want to go on with it, so you keep moving with the timeline. This is what society calls "autopilot living". And you'll do that until something changes. Until reality sets in. Maybe you decide to speak out against your own complacency, maybe someone gives you a new reason to live…and maybe, the person you've worked so hard to ignore realizes just why they worked so hard to keep you in their life. There's no telling what will pull you out of the hole, yourself or someone else, but always something will break the mold and you will never be the same again.

SSHP

Harry set the book down and rubbed his eyes. "What a load of bollocks," He muttered, slamming the book shut.

"What is, Harry?" Hermione asked, sitting at the table beside him. They were in the library, studying for their Potions final. Professor Snape had assigned the hardest potion ever to see a syllabus since time immemorial, and Harry could find nothing of use to finish off his anthology of "what is love".

"This book…it's the philosophy of love, and I thought it might be useful for our final essay, but it's just useless," Harry moaned, shoving the book aside.

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes. "Well you can't expect it to have the answers, Harry, its philosophy. You're only supposed to be looking for a basis, we have to come up with the words ourselves."

"Words for what?" Ron asked, joining them with Lavender attached to his hip.

"Our final potions assignment," Harry answered tiredly. "Snape decided we weren't well-rounded enough as adults, so we have to explain why even the weakest love potions can affect anyone. And Remus has decided to work in conjunction with Snape, so we basically have to write a bogus essay of at least four feet as to what we believe love is, why love potions and spells work so well, and if they are actually inducing love or a hormone imbalance or some such. Then they're going to test the soul-seeker spell on us in whichever class we have first."

"Why that spell? It isn't a love spell, it's just to tell you what type of personality best suits you according to the type of character you have at the time. Young witches giggle over that spell at sleepovers," Lavender said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's part of the lesson. One thing we're required to mention in the paper is why compatibility doesn't always make for the best life-partner or lover. It's the philosophy of 'opposites attract'. Our characters attract someone who compliments our personalities, but, as illogical humans, we're more likely to be immediately happy with someone who not only compliments us, but challenges us, which is what true compatibility means. The spell is designed to take all of that into account, so there's no telling what it might say our best-suited match is: someone very similar, or someone who's nearly our polar opposite, whichever attracts us most. Most of the girls in class are going nuts, convinced that their boyfriends or girlfriends will be perfect for them. Even some of the Slytherins began shooting Harry looks when Snape told us our ideal match might be our opposite, apparently convinced the differences between them will turn out to make him a perfect choice," The intelligent witch said, digging some parchment out of her bag.

"Well, it is possible, isn't it? I mean, Harry is a hardcore Gryffindor, so any Slytherin would be able to oppose his personality, right?" Ron teased.

Harry groaned and stood up, grabbing his bag. "This is ridiculous. If anything, I'll be better suited to a Hufflepuff," He said. He looked at Hermione. "I'm going to go write this somewhere that no one will find me, or interrupt. I'll catch you guys at dinner." He walked away, ignoring his friends as they tried to stop him and make him tell them 'what was wrong' as if studying alone were a crime.

SSHP

Harry paused in the scratching of his quill to stretch his back, then leaned back over the already two-foot essay to continue. He moaned when hands began kneading at his shoulders. "God, Pansy, don't stop," He said, laying his head on his forearm.

"Still haven't told the Golden Gryffindorks where you disappear to?" Draco asked, sitting next to Harry.

"How'd you guess?" Harry countered, opening an eye to look at him.

"I just passed Granger as she was coming out of Snape's office, and all I got was a huff. I figure once you've told them I'll have her ten foot down my throat," Draco shrugged. "I thought you were going to tell them before graduation, which is only a little more than a month away."

Harry sighed. "How do you think I should go about doing that Draco? 'Oh, classes are fine, yes my homework is finished, I've been getting my work done in the Slytherin Common Room, which, by the way, I don't need a password for because Hogwarts herself has decided I'm an honorary Slytherin'; that'd go over well. I can see Ron blowing up already, claiming I'd been brainwashed, and that I'm under a spell. Not to mention the betrayal on 'Mione's face," He muttered. "I don't want them to know, anyway. Then they'd know where to find me when I try to disappear, and as much as I love them -we've been friends forever- I'm tired of having them cling to me like cats, claws and all."

"So you really have grown out of the friendship, then?" Blaise asked taking over Harry's shoulders as Pansy sat down with Millicent at Draco's side.

"I guess I have, yeah. They don't need to know everything about me, and I'm tired of feeling like I owe them something," Harry admitted. "Is that bad, Neville?"

The young Herbologist looked up from where he was working on an essay and sucking on a sugar quill on a couch a few feet away. "Not if it's what you want, Harry. I still think you should tell Professor Snape, though. He even knows I'm in here regularly."

"Yeah, but he likes you, now that he knows your ineptitude in Potions is because of your aptitude in Herbology," Blaise chided his boyfriend. The boy shrugged and turned back to his parchment.

"Yeah, why doesn't he like you still, Harry? I mean, you out-mark Draco and Granger in class now that you have time to concentrate and we're not working to sabotage you, so what's he got against you still?" Theodore asked, joining them at the table.

"Dunno, maybe it has something to do with the fact that my father was his personal bully for seven years?" Harry said sarcastically. "Anyway, he doesn't outright dislike me anymore; he just isn't very keen on me."

"Bitter old bastard, he is," Draco muttered, earning him a soft cheer from around the table.

Harry chuckled. "Don't worry about it. Maybe I'll win him over next year when I take over Remus' job. For now, I would like to finish this essay."

"Working on Snape's final Potion's assignment?" Blaise inquired, leaning over Harry's shoulder.

The Gryffindor sighed. "Yes, though I'm not sure how to give my opinion on this 'opposites attract' idea."

Theo snorted. "Just imagine what your reaction would be to finding a description of Ginny Weasley as your 'ideal match', that should give you an idea of what to say," He pointed out jokingly. "It's what all of us were thinking when Snape mentioned it."

Harry glared at the Slytherin. "That's not funny, Theo, the idea is revolting. May I please just do my work in peace, without one of you inducing sickness?"

The group threw up their hands in mock surrender, making the Man Who Prevailed chuckle. He shook his head at his friends antics and returned to his half-finished essay.

After a few minutes, Draco broke the muted silence. "So are you going to the dance this Saturday?"

Harry rolled his eyes, dropping his quill to glare at the other boy. "I thought you were going with Theo, since neither of you have dates?"

"I am, I just want to know if you've thought at all about our idea to have you come with all of us. If it helps at all, Neville has agreed to go as a Slytherin," Draco coaxed.

The Wizarding savior rubbed his eyes in frustration. "Sure, why the hell not? It's not like anyone in Gryffindor has asked me to go, as a group or otherwise." For the second time in as many hours, he stood up, gathering his materials. "Now, I'm going to commandeer your dorm room, since I'll obviously get no peace here. Come get me when it's dinner."

Draco nodded, and as Harry began to walk down the corridor that led to the Seventh Year boy's dorm, the whole of the table echoed a goodbye. Harry waved over his shoulder at them, knowing they'd let him alone to study. He was glad for the Slytherins. If he'd tried a stunt like that in Gryffindor, he'd have been followed by at least twelve students thinking something was deathly the matter.