A/N – Hello lovely readers, I was inspired to create a sweet and lighthearted story for Valentine's Day, I hope you enjoy it!

"Most people are perfectly afraid of silence," Draco murmured, drawing her attention out of her book.

"Excuse me?" Hermione scrunched her nose up in confusion.

"Your book." he gestured. "E.E. Cummings, right?"

"Did you just quote a muggle poet?"

"I had a well-rounded education from my governess, thank you very much," he replied with faux offense. "My father insisted that I cover poetry, art, and literature in my studies before Hogwarts."

He considered the book she was defensively clutching. "Why are you reading poetry?"

Hermione paused as if she was deciding whether or not to reply.

"My mum studied literature during university. She's always loved to read but out of every book in the house this one was her favorite." Hermione closed the book and offered it to Draco who carefully thumbed through the worn pages.

"It's the first book my dad gave her," she explained. "When I was young, I used to sneak outside and sit in the backyard under the lilac tree to read this book for hours. I'd pick a lilac bunch for my bookmark and press it between the pages. Mum was always finding pressed flowers in her books because of me." Hermione smiled fondly at the recollection.

Hermione Granger was officially panicking. It was less than a week until Valentine's day and she had procrastinated, again. Every year was the same, she was so consumed with schoolwork and her friends that she put off finding a date until it was too late.

Ultimately, she would end up at Hogsmeade platonically with whichever friend was also dateless, usually Ginny, Harry, or Neville. They would be surrounded by infatuated couples sharing ice cream at Fortescue's Parlour or sipping butterbeer at the Leaky Cauldron.

Not this year, Hermione determined, this year she was going to have a real date. After all, her friends already had plans and she was not about to spend the night snuggling with Crookshanks; she was much too young to become a lonely cat lady. Though she did love cats.

Ginny and Harry were going to Madam Puddifoot's, Ron had Lavender ("Oh Won-Won!" Lavender had cried out during dinner last week "Of course I'll be your valentine!" while his ears had turned bright red) and if their past behavior were any indication, they would spend the entire night snogging. Even Neville was taking Luna out to dance under the waning moon. According to Luna this is the time of month when Nargles are hibernating and away from the mistletoe that grows wild in the forest.

Hermione had conceded long ago that attracting dates was not her forte. As a result, this year she deferred to her dormmate Parvati who promised to spread the word that she was looking for a date for Valentine's Day.

That was a week ago.

Since then, Hermione had been approached for a date by Michael Corner, Anthony Goldstein, and Zacharias Smith. She had happily accepted each invitation but then almost immediately they had all backed out with varying excuses for why they were suddenly completely unavailable February 14th.

She joked to Ginny that she must have a man-repelling curse on her but a little voice in the back of her head was wondering what it was about her that pushed their interest away so instantaneously.

There was only one week until Valentine's day when Cormac McLaggen had swaggered toward her in the hallway after arithmancy.

"Hermione!" he called out with a confident smirk. "Next weekend, you, me, Hogsmeade?"

"Sure, Cormac." she smiled. It's not as if I have any other plans, she added silently.

"Great, I'll meet you outside by the carriages at 6." He winked and her stomach sank.

Cormac was not her first choice for a date, but she was looking forward to not spending the night with her cat.

Later that evening Hermione was headed to the library to return a stack of books when she overheard an altercation outside the library entrance.

"Hey McLaggen," a menacingly low voice growled out as Hermione heard a muted thud. "You're going to tell Granger you're busy Saturday, something came up, you find an excuse but you're not going on that date."

"Oh yeah?" Cormac challenged. "why would I want to do that?"

"If you don't, I promise I'll make you regret it," the voice threatened.

Hermione's eyes widened and her cheeks flushed with anger—was this why all her previous dates had canceled on her? She flew around the corner in a fury just in time to see Cormac stumbling away from a smug looking Malfoy.

"YOU!" she snarled, charging at him.

"Granger…" Draco's mouth slipped open in shock; she might have laughed at his expression under different circumstances.

"You're the one who has been sabotaging my dates! Why?!"

"I heard how he asked you," Draco sniffed haughtily, looking down his nose at her. "Yelling at you across a busy corridor is hardly the way to ask you on a date. He's a tosser. Plus, he wasn't even going to pick you up for the date, he's practically a bumbling caveman. It's not as if he's good enough for you."

"Good enough?" she slowly repeated his phrasing, her thoughts skipped on the words. "Why are you trying to make me dateless for Valentine's day?" she narrowed her eyes at him, anger bubbling up under her skin.

"I'm not," he looked away carefully. "Maybe I'm just making sure you're available when the right person asks you."

Before Hermione could counter with a response Malfoy had turned on his heel and left her standing there, bewildered at the entire interaction.

Three days until Valentine's Day.

Hermione resigned herself to another year alone, this time the blame was solely on Malfoy. She glared daggers at the blond Slytherin who was seated three rows ahead of her in potions.

Scribbling furiously on a scrap of parchment Hermione folded it and flicked her wand, the paper sliding onto his desk.

Who are you to say who is good enough for me? You don't even know me

She was not sure what response she was expecting, but she was expecting to elicit at least a small reaction. Instead he read the paper and tucked it into his bag, turning his attention back to the assignment.

One day until Valentine's Day.

Hermione woke up to a rectangle package at the foot of her bed. Her eyes flicked over to her sleeping dormmates and then back to the package. It was wrapped in simple brown wrapping, tied up with a silk periwinkle-blue ribbon. She found a card attached, the text written in decorative calligraphy.

I know that your favorite colour is periwinkle

She flipped the card to the back

I know you look beautiful in periwinkle

Fighting back a smile she carefully untied the ribbon and unwrapped the package. It was a book of plays written by Shakepeare with another card attached.

I know that everyone thinks your favorite book is Hogwarts: A History but really your favorite book is A Winter's Tale, after your namesake

Hermione brushed her thumb over the cover, tracing the letters. It was a beautiful leather-bound book with gold lettering. On impulse she grabbed the ribbon and tied it into her hair, smiling to herself as she walked to her first class.

In Transfiguration she found another brown wrapped parcel resting on her assigned table. She glanced around the still empty classroom and opened the gift. The box was packed with sugar quills and a note in the same writing as before.

I know that sugar quills are your favorite sweet and that you eat them when you're stressed

She could barely focus during the lecture, thinking back to a leather-bound book and pack of sugar quills in her bag. She absent-mindedly played with the ribbon in her hair. Was this Malfoy? Thinking back to her note in potions she had told him that he did not know her. Perhaps he did, she mused.

Hermione found herself excited to walk into Charms and see if anything was waiting for her at her desk. Turning the corner into the classroom she smiled widely at the thin long package in brown wrapping on her chair.

This time other students were already settling in their seats, but she was ripping off the paper before she even sat down.

The card on the package read

I know that you have a kind heart and will always fight for the underprivileged and the forgotten

Unwinding the rolled-up parchment she choked back a laugh and blinked slowly in surprise. It was an official paper from Malfoy manor documenting that the family house elves were receiving monthly wages and private rooms.

Well this is definitely from Malfoy, she thought as she covered her mouth with her hand trying not to draw attention to herself as she smiled uncontrollably.

There was a second card inside

No house elves were harmed in the making of this document

*They were, however, greatly offended, Pinky stopped making my favorite shortbread for two weeks

**Wages were accepted with the promise that no knitwear would be forced upon them

The back of the card read

The hats are cute though

*You are too

**It was really good shortbread

Hermione covered her face with her hands and squeezed her eyes shut as her face tinged pink. She laughed to herself, fondly reminiscing her S.P.E.W. days.

The thought 'Draco Malfoy thinks I'm cute' was running through her brain so many times she almost wrote it in her charms notes instead of details from the lesson.

The final class of the day was history of magic and she raced to class to see what Draco had left for her. Her feet faltered when she saw an empty chair and table. Hermione had been so sure that he would have left another package that she felt disappointment gnawing in her chest.

After class, Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor table for supper, fixed herself a large bowl of soup, and opened her bag with the intention of pulling out her latest book to read as she ate.

In her peripheral she caught a flash of pale violet as it fell onto the table from an owl above.

It was a cluster of lilacs with another card attached.

I know that your favorite flowers are lilacs

Flipping the card she read

They're my favorite too, they remind me of you

She looked up and saw a flurry of owls flying through the great hall toward her, all carrying bunches of lilac flowers. They landed on the table in front of her, one by one dropping flowers and flying away.

Everyone had turned to watch the commotion; Hermione was clutching the card, reading the words over again. She glanced up at the Slytherin table, but Malfoy's regular seat was empty. She could not stop smiling widely at the growing pile of flowers in front of her. She could barely see the table in front of her, her food buried beneath the blooms. Picking up a bunch she closed her eyes and inhaled. It smelled like summer, sunshine, and childhood.

A voice behind her gently recited "here is the deepest secret nobody knows and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart," he paused, taking a breath. "I carry your heart…"

"I carry it in my heart," she finished the line, turning around quickly. "Draco," she whispered, suddenly feeling breathless.

She recalled her brash note she had sent him the day before, 'You don't even know me'.

He was holding a bundle of lilacs tied together with another silk ribbon.

She had been so wrong.

"Granger." The corner of his mouth perked into a smile. "Would you be my date tomorrow?" he paused as if reconsidering the words and asked, "will you be my valentine?" he twisted the bouquet in his hands.

"Oh Draco," Hermione grinned, biting her lower lip. "How'd you know I still needed a date?" she teased.

Balancing up on her toes, she pressed her lips against his, her heart hammering in her chest. He swept a hand to the small of her back, pulling her closer as he returned her kiss.

"Told you that you look beautiful in periwinkle," he smirked as he brushed the ribbon with his hand pulling softly through her curls.

At the exact same moment they both became acutely aware of their surroundings. They were standing in front of the Gryffindor table, which was buried in lilacs, with classmates and professors downright gawking at the intimate display of affection from the unlikely pair.

She reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers.

"Of course, I'll be your valentine if you will be mine."

"Granger, I thought it was obvious," he mused. "I've always been yours."

Across the great hall at the head table a single galleon slid across the table from Professor Snape into the hand of a smirking Professor McGonagall.