It was almost sunrise—a time when any normal person would be fast asleep. But Harry leaned against the headboard of his bed, wide awake, curtains drawn, listening to the pounding rain, Ron's snore, and dreading the morning.

Why, he thought to himself, does Valentine's Day exist?

It certainly did nothing for his conscience to accept the love-potion-poisoned chocolates of twenty simpering girls, only to throw them away later. He understood their feelings, he supposed, unrequited love could make you desperate, after all—but he doubted he could ever be that desperate. Weren't there other boys in this school besides the famous "Chosen One?" He felt even worse because he knew that he didn't deserve their affection. It wasn't him they loved, after all. It was his title.

By this time, of course, it had become light, Ron's snoring had turned into a sleepy, waking-up yawn, and the rain had quelled to a gentle patter on the window. Harry sat still for a few more moments, squeezing his eyes shut in mental preparation, then dressed and slipped down the spiral staircase and through the portrait hole, dreading what was to come.

It was even worse than he had feared. His plan had been to simply turn down the girls who offered him anything, rather than fill his trash can with unwanted candy again (sending a wave of guilt through him any time he looked at it) but things weren't going so well.

"Please," one girl bleated, at the brink of tears and attempting to shove a giant white chocolate cupid into his hands, "I spent all my pocket money on it. Why won't you just take it?" Some of the girls just dumped their valentines into his arms and dashed away, and Hermione caught a tiny first-year with a mass of blonde hair trying to stuff hers into the back of Harry's robe.

"This is ridiculous," said Ron who had received a few chocolates of his own. "You should just take them, mate, or they'll never quit." Harry eyed the cupid in his arms, which he had unsuccessfully tried to get rid of and which had now begun to pose at the students going by, beating Harry in the side of his heat with its chocolate wings.

"That's easy for you to say," he said, craning his neck to avoid the cupid, and groaned. He had just spotted a head of slick blonde hair approaching him through the crowd, and knew his day was about to get even worse. "Take these and go to the common room," he muttered to Ron and Hermione quickly through the side of his mouth, and shoved his pile of goods at them. It would be bad enough dealing with Draco Malfoy without having to hold a giant fidgeting cupid as well. Hermione glanced at him, opening her mouth as if she were about to say something, but he looked at her fiercely and she scurried after Ron just as Malfoy sauntered up, flanked on either side by the massive Crabbe and Goyle who were carrying his own pile, by the look of it.

"Well, well, if it isn't Potter," said Malfoy, mouth curled into a sneer. "Enjoying your glory?"

Harry said nothing.

"What's wrong?" asked Malfoy in mock sincerity. "Oh, did you have a valentine for me? Well by all means, hand it over, though as you can see" —he gestured at his pile— "It may get lost among all the—"

"I don't have anything for you, Malfoy," Harry snapped, taking a step forward as Crabbe and Goyle sniggered. Just then, a box fell out of his robes and they all looked down simultaneously.

"What's this?" said Mayfoy gleefully. "You mean you did have something for me? Really, you shouldn't have." Harry stared at him, horror-struck, as he reached down, pulling a chocolate out of the box with his slender fingers and popping it into his mouth. "Don't wet your pants, now," he said smugly, tossing the box back onto the ground. "That's all you get, wouldn't want you to get your hopes—" Suddenly, he stopped, a peculiar expression coming over his face. Harry, who had opened his mouth to voice his rebuttal, paused in confusion.

"What—"

He was interrupted as Malfoy ran off towards the dungeons, leaving Crabbe, Goyle, and Harry behind. They looked at him stupidly, as if waiting for him to clarify what just happened, but when he offered no explanation they toddled after Malfoy, leaving Harry to wonder on his own.

Harry was still wondering as he went up to his dormitory to inspect the box of chocolates Malfoy had taken from. He figured it was safer up there than in the Great Hall or even the Common Room where girls could still sneak up on him. He flipped over the box, recognizing it as something from Fred and George's shop and groaning. He had been betting on Constipation Chocolate (though why a girl would have that strong a grudge was beyond him) but what he saw was much, much worse. The chocolates were creamy brown, dart-shaped, and if that wasn't enough, the label stuck to the back of the box stated, in bold script,

Tired of always being left out on Valentine's Day? Wishing you could have a cupid of your own to shoot an arrow into someone's heart? Well, just give him a Chocolate Infatuation Arrow™ and he'll be madly in love with the first thing he sees. Just make sure it's you, and he'll be all yours for the next twelve hours! After that, it's up to you to win him over on your own—but don't take our word for it! Try out an Infatuation Arrow™ toda—

Harry stopped reading. If the claim on the label was true (and he was sure it was; the Weasley twins had never let him down before) then his day had gone from bad to simply disastrous. Harry figured the best thing to do would be to wait in the boy's dormitory until the twelve hours was up—at least it was only twelve hours, and not a week…or forever. Now that would be disastrous.

Harry tried his hardest to sit quietly and not think about what Malfoy could be thinking at the moment, or doing, but after telling Ron he was tired and spending the day alternately napping and staring at the curtains of his four-poster, he was restless beyond belief and didn't think he could spend another second in bed. So, he slipped on his invisibility cloak, tiptoed past Hermione, who was sleeping with her head on a pile of books in the common room, and crept out the portrait hole, eager to stretch his legs and telling himself that he could easily avoid Malfoy for a few hours as he made his way towards the Prefect's bathroom.

Harry was still telling himself this as he removed his invisibility cloak, turned the knob of the bathroom door and stumbled right in—upon Malfoy himself.

Bullocks.

"Who's there?" Malfoy drawled, but stopped short when he saw Harry, who was hurriedly trying to back out the way he had come. In a flash, Malfoy was out of the tub and pulling Harry inside, a strange light in his eyes that Harry had never seen. His stomach lurched in a most unexpected way.

"So kind of you to join me," Malfoy said silkily. "Haven't seen you all day…"

Malfoy begun to unbutton the front of Harry's robes and Harry did all he could to escape…but the warm steam clouding the room was intoxicating, and Harry felt his muscles slacken…Malfoy's hands were slippery against his bare skin...Harry shuddered, though not in an entirely bad way…and just then, Harry's elbow slipped backwards, hitting the handle of the door, and the jarring pain broke the strange spell he had been under. Harry wrenched free from Malfoy's grasp and ran, gasping, through the corridor until he had hidden himself safely behind a suit of armor and thought he was safe. His breath came is short bursts and his heart pounded, his mind ablaze.

What just happened? Why couldn't he get away from the beginning? Why had he felt…Harry put his head in his hands, unwilling to pursue that line of thought any further. Malfoy was his enemy. He always had been. Why should it be any different now? A little—what was it called—Infatuation Arrow wouldn't change that…Harry slid down the wall until he was sitting, and stayed that way until a giant grandfather clock about two suits of armor down began to chime. It was midnight, and the effects of the Arrow had definitely faded off. Harry sighed with relief, though his heart still thumped a bit louder than it should, and stood up again, rubbing his cramped legs. It should be okay to return back to his dormitory now. He'd had his Invisibility Cloak all along, but…for some reason, he didn't even want to run into Malfoy with it on. Grimacing a little at the thought, he peeked around the corner, making sure the coast was clear, and ran back to Gryffindor Tower, dashing up to the boy's dormitory and leaping into his bed, which he had never been so happy to get back into.

Harry rolled over, getting ready for sleep, and felt something hard poking him in the back. He shifted, annoyed, reaching underneath him, and pulled out, of course, the box of Infatuation Arrows. This, at least, was one thing he wouldn't feel guilty about throwing away. He was about to toss it towards the trash can, when something caught his eye. It was the bottom of the label, the part he hadn't bothered to read before. Valentine's Day Special, it said. "True Love Coffee" Flavor—only works if he's already in love with you. Good luck, gals!

Harry was frozen. He couldn't think, he couldn't comprehend what this meant for him, for anything, only that it meant another sleepless night with him and his thoughts. Though perhaps…it wouldn't only be him for much longer.