Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other piece of JK Rowling's empire. I just write the fanfic.

Severus Snape wouldn't have said, if you asked him, that the second semester of this year was going to be different from any other. Then again, he had never put much stock in divination; he was interested in magic, not hocus-pocus. So when Sybil Trelawney told him at the Hogwarts staff Christmas dinner that this Valentine's Day would be a special one, he didn't pay her much mind. Then again, if he had ever listened to a word that came out of her mouth, he might have noticed the distinct difference between this prediction and her usual death-doom-destruction combo. In fact, if he paid attention to any of the women on the staff at Hogwarts, he might noticed that they were all acting a good deal girlier than he had ever seen them act before. But he didn't, and he snapped and snarled his way through January blissfully unaware of the chaos to come....

Curse this wretched holiday, thought Severus Snape as he swooped through the halls of Hogwarts, taking off ten points here, fifteen points there, from the old and new couples that flooded through the school like a tidal wave of lovey-dovey cheer. It wasn't a good Valentine's Day unless he had racked up at least 500 points worth of deductions. Young love in particular made him ill – little do they know, he liked to cackle to himself, picking out the couples doomed to failure, destined to break when they got their first taste of the real world.

Yes, he was one of the choice few who saw life for what it was: a cosmic joke, a mad jape played on those stupid enough to believe that it could be soft and kind. Stupid, stupid, cruel life….

Bah humbug, he thought as he swept into his first class of the day.

He had gotten to 400 points deducted from various houses (including Slytherin; why should they be exempt? his inner monologue sneered) by the last class of the day, double Potions with Slytherin and Gryffindor. He figured he'd have an easy time of it, between this class and dinner, to knock off the remaining hundred points. Gryffindor was already used to him finding any excuse to take off points, and Slytherin…well, they could bloody well learn. As usual, Snape waited in his office until class had very nearly started, then swooped in, letting the door bang behind him. To his great disappointment, everyone – even Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil – were sitting silent and ready. Apparently, they'd smelled the blood in the water and were electing not to push him. Even Neville Longbottom had on his best poker face.

For the first half of the period, everything went swimmingly. Much better than normal, actually. No one talked out of turn and no one melted his or her cauldron. Almost every single potion was a sickly greenish color, which is exactly what they were supposed to look like. Snape was beginning to get really annoyed when Neville Longbottom raised his hand.

"What-is-it?" Snape hissed, trying to look menacing.

"I was wondering if I couldn't have a new knife, sir," said Neville, averting his eyes slightly as one might do when looking at the sun. "This one is dull and it's not cutting my asphodel very well." Snape looked at the perfectly sliced, if raggedy-edged, plant. His lips pulled back from his clenched teeth alarmingly, but he simply nodded and got a new knife. Neville went back to work.

Shortly thereafter, a knock resonated through the silent classroom.

"Enter!" shouted Snape imperiously.

George and Fred Weasley entered, sporting identical Cheshire Cat grins and each carrying a package. They handed over their packages without a word and, still grinning, moved to the back of the room. Ron, watching, had the distinct impression of soldiers scurrying away from a bomb that was about to go off.

Severus Snape looked at the boxes in his hands. One of them was labeled "Open Me First!" and to the other was attached a greeting card with "For my favorite Potion Master. Your SA" written on the envelope. Deciding with not a little gleeful spite to open the one with the card first, he found that it was a boxful of cordial cherries. Inside was another note.

Dark chocolate for my dark dear. Are you as delicious as these are? –SA

Setting down the box as though it could explode at any moment, he opened the greeting card with shaking hands. He read it, then reread it, then flushed a deep red that stood out particularly well on his pale skin. Then his reflexes kicked in and clenched his fists, squashing the card. Putting it on his desk next to the chocolate-covered cherries, he opened the second box. He didn't understand at first; he had to pull the thing out to get it. With the entire class plus Fred and George now watching, he lifted the item to eye-level…and immediately wished he hadn't. It was a pair of black silk boxer shorts. He couldn't see the words that were printed in red on the seat – that side was facing the class.

"Spanish Fly – Not Just For Breakfast Anymore," read the back of what were clearly a pair of men's underwear. The class was stunned into silence. All, that is, except for Fred and George Weasley, who, unable to contain themselves any longer, burst out laughing.

That broke the tension; no one, even the Slytherins, could stop themselves from howling. Neville Longbottom banged his head on his desk doubling over with laughter.

"SILENCE!" roared Snape. "Weasley!"

"Yes?" chorused Ron, George, and Fred, still chuckling a bit.

"Not you," Snape snapped at Ron, "You two. You would have done well to save this bit of trickery until after you'd graduated. I'll have both your red heads for this."

"Oh, no," said Fred (or possibly George), "It wasn't us. Wish we could take credit, but we're just the messengers."

"Yeah," the other agreed, "Don't you know that this kind of jape requires a woman's touch?"

Gales of laughter flooded the room again. Fred and George slipped out quickly, giving each other high-fives.

"A woman?" Snape wondered, ignoring the class. "Could it be you?" he shouted, pointing a long, accusatory finger at Hermione Granger.

The class quieted, waiting to hear what would happen. Hermione's eyes widened until they were roughly the size of Bambi's.

"Me?" she squeaked, trying to sound outraged and finding that her voice had fled.

"Of course," Snape went on, eyes flitting madly around the room, 'It all makes sense. The way you looked at me..."

"With utter disgust?" Hermione shrieked. Her voice was back with a vengeance.

"...trying to torment me with that ridiculous behavior..."

"Ridiculous?" huffed Hermione. "What's ridiculous about –"

"...getting my attention constantly…" Snape went on, not listening to her protests, "Yes, Miss Granger, I believe you're in love with me!"

"But..." Hermione was near tears. The sound of rushing blood and laughter rang in her ears. Looking to Harry and Ron for support, she was unpleasantly surprised to find them both laughing uproariously. Hermione slapped them each across the face and ran out, no longer bothering to control the tears that fizzled on her burning cheeks.

Snape frowned. That didn't gel. He turned to the Slytherin side of the room. "Or was it you, Parkinson? I've seen the way you toady up to Malfoy, why not head straight to the top?"

Pansy favored him with her best scandalized look. "I only like Draco!" she declared, to fresh laughter from the Gryffindors. She blushed deeply and tried to sink into the floor. No luck.

"No kidding!" shouted Parvati Patil. "You've all but sent out wedding invitations!"

Snape whirled. "And what about you, Miss Boy-Crazy Patil? Thought you could handle a man?"

Parvati's eyes popped and she started to hyperventilate. Lavender Brown bent over her concernedly.

"No matter," said Snape dismissively. "I'll find out, mark my words. For now, know that I'm taking 50 points from each of your houses. Class is over for today." With that, he swept out of the room with as much dignity as he could muster, not bothering to take his gifts with him. The class continued to chatter excitedly.

"Hey," said Seamus Finnegan, "what d'ya suppose that card says?"

"Only one way to find out," said Ron with a mischievous smirk. He went to the front of the room and grabbed the card. "AHEM!" he said loudly, to get the class's attention. They quieted quickly, seeing what he was holding. He began to read:

"Just 'cause you haven't a Valentine yet,
Don't think you're down on your luck
You've grabbed this tigress by the heart,
And she's a girl who likes to –"

"Whoa!" said Ron, and set the card on Snape's desk with the exact stiff movement that Snape himself had earlier. He returned to his seat looking thoroughly traumatized. Harry and Seamus were looking at him curiously; before either of them could say anything, he declared, "You don't want to know."

Severus Snape, meanwhile, had retreated to his office to cook up a suitable response.

Author's notes: This is a response to a challenge, and as such, some of the major plot points (i.e. the gifts) were already determined. Mainly, I just tried to stay within the bounds of the books and the challenge while having some fun with the dour Potion Master. Warning: this chapter is much funnier than chapter 2. But if you don't read chapter 2, you won't know who the secret admirer is! *g*

Also, if you have any feelings about the format of this story (I intentionally made it only so wide and centered on the page), please let me know. Thanks!