Draco Malfoy sat in silence. He was stunned. Shocked into a stupor. In his hands he held the scariest piece of paper ever. It had to be a joke. Someone wouldn’t actually say all that. Would they? It was rubbish and drivel… it was terrifying.

Draco Malfoy sat in the middle of the Great Hall. In his hand he held what had to be the best Valentine’s joke of all time. It had to be a joke! No one in their right mind would say these things. Let alone say them to him. It just wasn’t right.

It was pink. It was pink and it smelled…pretty. He moaned and started to snap back to reality.

“Hey, Draco! Wake up man, even if it is in purple ink it can’t be that bad,” came a voice from his left shoulder. It was Greg.

“Can’t be that bad? It’s purple ink! Whoever she is, she’s bloody mental! Listen to this! ‘Realizing the truth of love can lead to great happiness. Everything seems to be of beauty now. Chocolate seems to be sweeter, soap operas seem to make more sense, love songs have more meaning and being all by yourself on a hot summer day doesn’t seem to be so bad after all,’” Draco finished with one last groan.

"What’s wrong with a hot summer day to begin with?” This came from across the table. It was Vin this time. “She’s either really blinded by love or she’s pulling your leg something fierce. Good luck, Draco."

"Well, thanks for the support guys."

"I don’t see why you all assume it’s a girl."

Three Slytherin heads popped up to find the source of the interruption. Sitting a few seats down was Pansy, obviously listening in on their conversation again. "As fun as it is to watch you hyperventilate Draco…"

"You’re not implying that this came from a…a…" He was starting to get even more worried.

"Dear Merlin, no. What I meant was that it’s probably a prank. Someone who also thought it would be fun to see you panic. I thought that would be evident too-"

“Well of course it’s a prank, Pansy! How stupid do you think I am?” Pansy’s answer was in her eyes…she didn’t think very highly of him and she didn’t like getting cut off. Go figure. She did it enough herself.

“Yeah, well if it’s a joke, who sent it?” Greg piped up. He seemed rather amused by Pansy and Draco.

“Do you think it was the ‘rotten trio’?” said Vin absentmindedly, who seemed more interested in his bowl of cereal and his newspaper than anything.

Draco looked over his shoulder to where the ‘annoying three’ sat having breakfast. They seemed extremely uninterested in anything to do with him and they had never been the subtlest group. Especially when they were planning something.

Just as Draco was about to respond, Pansy continued with her two cents. “No, it’s not them. They haven’t been interested in Draco for ages. Now don’t pout, Draco. I wouldn’t take it personally."

For a girl who was supposed to be so well bred, she could fool… like, everyone.

Draco looked up and scowled at Pansy. He had been re-reading the letter. It was not improving with age. The words seemed to have burned into his mind now, continually repeating behind his eyes. Haunting him. They were just words, dammit!

‘Everywhere I go I can feel your eyes burning into me. Just thinking of you gives me the shivers.’

His eyes hadn’t been ‘burning’ into anyone! He was sure of that! Absolutely sure!

“Give me that letter, Draco,” Pansy demanded, pulling Draco out of his misery once again. Damn her.

“So you can memorize it and go tell all your gossip buddies? Hell no! Piss off, Pansy.” Draco was loosing his cool, which was not improving his mood in the least.

“Oh, shut up, Malfoy! Ridiculous sod. I help Snape, remember? I mark almost all his reports. Let me see if I recognize the writing.”

“No.”

“For Circe’s sake, Malfoy! Give her the letter.” Greg wrenched the letter out of his hands and placed it beside Pansy’s place setting. Draco sat and pouted. Yes, he was being juvenile, but he was allowed every so often.

“I’m not sure I want to help him, now. He’s just so rude!” Pansy seemed to have decided she was also going to put on airs, but it didn’t last long as the three boys glared at her. “Well, fine, but you all owe me.”

Picking up the letter disdainfully she began to read it to herself. When she looked up she caught Draco’s eye. “Stop pouting. It really isn’t that bad. Though I’m sure someone is getting a great laugh from all this. I might even know who it is…” Pansy trailed off leaning in slightly. Draco leaned in too, over almost three seats.

“Spit it out, Pansy. You’re not amusing and we all know you’re just jealous someone else sent Draco a valentine,” piped up Vin, who was still buried behind the Daily Prophet and only half listening.

If Pansy hadn’t been huffy before, she was now. Pansy hated Vin; he was one of the few people who didn’t humour her need for attention and told her the frank truth. Crossing her arms over her chest and flipping her long black hair over her shoulders, she settled back into her seat. With cold distain, which was directed almost exclusively to Vin’s newspaper, she added her last comment.

“I’ve seen the writing before -it’s very distinctive- but I’m not sure where. It’s definitely a fourth year Gryffindor’s though. Good luck!”

As soon as she finished Pansy turned and joined the conversation behind her with a few other Slytherin girls. Draco had held onto her every word and sneered at her overly cheerful last remark. “Thanks,” he mumbled under his breath. Greg was still grinning beside him. He thought this whole thing was hilarious.

Draco reached out across the table and pulled ‘his’ letter toward him. “I still can’t believe it’s pink,” he thought, and turned it over to look at the writing on the back. Instead of reading it, he examined how the words had been formed.

Pansy was right about the writing. It was very distinctive. The letters were small and precise. The quill tip had been extremely thin. All of the letters seemed rounded and the loops were slightly exaggerated, but it was the capital letters that stood out the most. They were perfectly formed and extremely fancy. The letters at the beginning of paragraphs were slightly bigger than the other text and had even more excess loops around them. Making it look like the letter was from some old book.

Draco hadn’t noticed much of this during his first reading, but now he sat in awe. Draco’s own handwriting wasn’t as beautiful. He had never had the patience to sit and practise the methods he had been taught as a child. Whoever had written this letter had practised for hours after having a similar wizarding education to Draco’s.

Whoever had written this was a pureblood witch…or wizard, and Pansy had said that it was a fourth year Gryffindor who had written it. What Gryffindor was from a pureblood family? Well, all right there were a few, but none who would have the money for this level of education. Right?

“Alright, list all the Gryffindors in their fourth year that are pureblood and could have had training in ancient writing.”

Greg and Vin both looked at him stunned. “Give me a break, it’s not that weird of a question,” Draco huffed.

“Only when you ask it, mate,” Greg chuckled to himself.

“There must be a few… Longbottom? No, wait he’s fifth year,” Vin had finally abandoned his newspaper and was concentrating deeply. “The only fourth year I can think of who’s pureblood is the little Weasley girl. Well, don’t look so horrified Draco, at least it’s a girl.”

Draco hadn’t thought this morning could get worse, but apparently he had been wrong. He had to agree with Vin the only possible Gryffindor fourth had to be Ginny Weasley.

“Yeah, it’s a girl and Weaslette’s certainly joking around. Hey Draco, where are you going?” Greg looked confused as he watched Draco get up.

“To my room,” he replied curtly turning to leave.

“Well, don’t forget your letter…”

“Burn it, Greg! I never want to see it again,” he yelled over his shoulder as he stalked out of the hall. He caught a few people’s attention, including Pansy’s, who he could hear whispering gossip.

He growled as he entered the empty entrance hall. Well, the almost empty entrance hall. Sitting a few steps up the grand staircase was the little redhead herself. She was relaxed, and seemed to be waiting.

When Draco looked up and saw her, he growled again. Straightening his posture and slowing his walk, he made his way over to the bottom of the steps. He was towering over her, but unlike some, it didn’t seem to unnerve her; instead, she smiled, a beautiful big smile that went all the way to her eyes.

“Hi,” she said, in a calm voice that barely reached Draco’s ears.

“That was very funny, Weasley. Bloody hilarious. I hope you got some fun out of it. I’ll always remember that ‘realizing the truth of love can lead to great happiness’ and all the rest, too. It’s burned on my brain if that makes you happy.” He was being rather sarcastic, not that he cared.

“Sorry.” She was a girl of few words. He would never have guessed based on her letter.

“Why the hell did you write that letter? I’ve never done anything extremely horrible to you…I think.”

The girl sitting at his feet laughed softly at him. Then, she stood up. She was standing two steps above him and still only just made his height. She smiled again and looked him straight in the eye. Her eyes were even more beautiful than her smile.

“It was a little heavy, but I had to get your attention somehow.” With that she turned around and slowly walked up the staircase.

As she walked out of view Draco was left very confused. A very beautiful, very interesting girl had just left him completely perplexed. It was definitely worth investigating further…even if she was a Weasley.

THE END