"The Very Secret Admirer" a cliché, cheese-packed story by Quidditch, Anyone?

Day of Paper Hearts and Pink Frosting

Urgh. Valentines' Day. The day most adolescents await all year so they can tell their little crushed their 'true feelings' and giggle as they hold hands down the corridors. Day of stupid songs and sappy poems. Anything but a day of real love, the kind of love when you start to not notice when your boyfriend burps or the girl you're seeing doesn't seem to care how her hair looks when she's around you. No, the commercial hearts 'n flowers day of dating seems as fake as those Styrofoam cupids that hang in store windows.

Most fortunately, another week was left before the plague of Valentines' Day hit the bustling castle known as Hogwarts. Their were many mixed opinions about this. On one side of the case, bubbly girls like Parvati and Lavender were anxiously waiting by marking off days on pink, scented calendars. Then the normals were groaning with less-than-eager knots in their stomachs. Hermione, for once, didn't have much of an opinion. She saw it as just a holiday when the dessert is always something smothered in pink frosting and you are guaranteed to find at least two couples snogging in broom cupboards by noon. Never had she given it enough thought to maybe think that someone liked her.

"Week left!" piped Lavender as she and Parvati giggled their way into Transfiguration. She spoke to no one specifically, but a few people here and there started exchanging enthusiastic whispers.

"Oh, right!" Hermione said. "I've completely forgotten about Valentines' Day!"

"And that's a bad thing?" asked Ron.

"Why so against Valentines' Day?" asked Hermione with a puzzled look.

Ron shifted a little in his seat. "Just, er... an experience, you could say."

"Go on, go on... elaborate," Harry prodded with a grin. He loved hearing about the embarrassing events that took place during Ron's wizarding childhood.

Ron blushed as pink as Lavender's new fluffy pink quill she just pulled out. "Er, nevermind."

Hermione smiled. "No need to stop now, Ron. Tell us what sort of, er, traumatic experience you've been through this time."

Thankfully, right at that moment Professor McGonagall walked in and transfigured an empty chair into a screeching parrot that squawked "QUIET!" to get the class's attention.

Ah, saved by the spell...

When the pupils stopped chattering and the chair regained its original form, Professor McGonagall was free to speak.

"As some of you may already know, the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade has planned on hosting its very own Valentines' Day ball, opened to all students and village citizens alike," she began. A few girls squealed and clapped while a couple of males hollered.

"However," the Professor's voice rose above the cheers. "We cannot allow you students to attend."

You would have thought that she had canceled the entire holiday. Many people just gaped and tried to speak several times, while others stood up with an ear-splitting "What?". Then, of course, were the series of swear-words from the back row.

"Please," McGonagall said calmly. "I can assure you that you will all find other ways to-"

"Why aren't we allowed to go?" asked Dean from the third row.

"Mr. Thomas," she said irritably. "I will ask you not to speak out in class in such a way!"

Dean shut his gaping mouth, but still looked sour.

"I suppose it is only fair to tell you, however," their teacher said quietly. "that we fear that if too many of you are going, other villagers might complain of the noise. It's one thing having the whole lot of you students here, because Hogwarts is isolated away from private wizarding homes. The problem with having you all go into a bar right in the middle of a town is a completely different story."

"Well, not all of us would go. They could sure count me out no matter what," Ron said quietly as he leaned back in his chair.

Hermione rolled her eyes and concentrated back on Professor McGonagall.

"Now, there will be no arguments, no questions, nothing left to discuss, so get your minds off of that silly dance and focus them on your work, please!"

·~··~··~·

The Famous Threesome walked down the halls without any emotional-breakdowns. The same couldn't be said for a few girls who had taken the announcement as a death sentence. Well, anyway, Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked casually down the corridors on their way to lunch with the V-word far from their minds. That is, until the doors of the Great Hall opened. To their shock, their gag reflexes were put to the test at the sight of a very large cupid sculpture with a large sign reading '7 Days Left' on it, pink goblets and plates on the table, and a variety of heart-shaped food to accompany them. They overheard from a third-year Hufflepuff that this was all due to the fact that Dumbledore felt guilty about not allowing his students to go to the Hogsmeade ball. The term "different surprises every day," was well distinguished.

"Just what we need," Ron said, annoyed, as he plucked up a heart- shaped ham sandwich and plopped it onto his rose colored plate as if it carried some horrible love-sickening disease.

"I agree," Hermione stated. "Making a huge fuss about such a stupid holiday."

I triple-dippy-dog promise that this is NOT going to be one of those fanfics with a second corny ball when Hermione goes with Ron, they fall in love, blah blah, mush mush. The mention of the ball is a very minor part to this fic. The real fluff and squeezy-cheese goodness comes later, so put your assumptions back in your junk drawer of fanfiction thoughts. This is kind of a stupid fic, I know, so don't get your hopes up for another screen play of a Meg Ryan movie or something. In fact, this may become ditch material, so I'd appreciate your deepest, most inner-emotional thoughts.