Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

**This is the first chapter of the remake of Valentine's Mysteries. **

**Warning: Will (eventually) end up with male/male relationship, although probably nothing M rated. **

**Enjoy, and please review!**

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'Breakfast as usual,' thought Harry with a sigh. 'Some things never change, even on Valentine's Day.' That may have been an understatement. Harry Potter was slumped in his chair, opposite his two best friends. The spectacular breakfast before them may have consisted of exactly the same food as always, but for the occasion Dumbledore had asked the house-elves to spell everything so that it was glowing bright pink. Another difference about this morning, that Harry was not yet awake enough to notice, was that his friends had rushed him down to the Great Hall whilst normal people were still grumbling in bed. Once in the Great Hall, they had looked around and hurriedly snatched places at the Gryffindor table. Harry hadn't really thought about why his best friends chose to sit where they did, but as the noise level gradually rose he realised it was so that they could see the reactions of everyone else to the food.

The post owls arrived, and the noise level peaked. Everyone was craning their necks to see who got cards and chocolates. The girls squealed amongst themselves as they read their valentines to their friends, the boys laughed at each other as in turn each of their faces turned the colour of their food in response to the gifts they received. Harry watched the valentine cards and chocolates pile in front of his two best friends at the other side of the table. The memory of Hermione at the Yule Ball the previous year was clearly still in the minds of many students, and she didn't seem to mind the attention. Ron was slowly being buried in his own pile of cards and chocolates, although not as many as Hermione. Red hair was apparently in fashion this year, as further down the table Fred and George seemed to be receiving the same treatment.

Harry blinked slowly. Amidst all the pink and red, he could see a small pile of letters slowly building in front of him. He looked surprised for a moment. He had lost favour with many people after last year, with the media convincing everyone that he had been leading Hermione on, whilst the rest of the world turned away at his conviction on the matter of the return of the Dark Lord. The pile continued to grow, and it was only when it was as tall as Ron's pile that he began to notice the smoke rising from the bottom of the pile. Howlers, just what he needed. As his pile reached the same height as Hermione's, the screeching began, voices joining with each other as the letters erupted. The noise from the rest of the hall was gradually drowned out by the screaming voices of hundreds of women whom he had never met, all berating him for things that had never happened. Harry waited for them to finish, and the moment they had stopped, the talking returned to the hall, although at a much lower volume.

As Harry finished his bacon, eggs and toast, he felt a pair of eyes watching him. He wasn't surprised after the spectacle his post had just caused him, but he was still tempted to turn and take a look. He resisted, deciding it must have been the lingering gaze of someone curious about the post he had received. Nevertheless, it made him uncomfortable, reminding him of his misfortune, especially in the romance department.

Ron had been eyeing girls left and right since the start of the year. It seemed that other males of his year had picked up on this craze as well, and the girls were taking more notice than ever. As if trying to provoke reactions in the boys, the girls huddled together and whispered any time one of them passed. Since the students had returned from Christmas break, Harry had found himself being dragged, with increasing frequency, to a quiet corner of the common room to discuss Ron's latest crush. It was all Harry could do to nod along in silent resignation as Ron pointed out whatever physical attributes this girl had that made him want her. Harry never understood what any of the guys saw in the girls, but he never commented. They were too wrapped up in their own thoughts to notice.

"See you in Transfiguration," Harry muttered to his friends as he got up and left the table. As Harry walked out of the room, a pair of storm-grey eyes followed his movements, looking away only when the famous boy was out of sight.

-o-o-o-o-o-

For the Slytherins, the morning had started out quite differently. Pureblood pride was all that stopped most of them from trudging up from the dungeons that morning, or grumbling as they saw the excitement of the other houses. Pansy Parkinson was the exception to this rule. It took all of her pureblood pride not to bounce along with the rest of the school. She had tied her hair up in a pink ribbon, and only half an hour of begging by her roommates had convinced her not to cover her uniform in pink silk hearts. This however did not deter her, as instead she began to spell parts of her uniform pink.

Pansy received many strange stares as she walked into the Great Hall, all aimed at the tie she was wearing, which was now pink and silver, with hearts enchanted to streak across it. The rest of the Slytherins ignored her, and sat down at the table. It was a few seconds before these students noticed the colour of the food in front of them, brought to their attention mainly by the squeal of delight that emanated from Pansy. Several of the Slytherin students groaned audibly, before regaining their composures and slowly filling their plates with food. The fifth years stared in shock for a few moments. Twin looks of disgust passed across the faces of Vincent Crab and Gregory Goyle, who were both revolted that anyone would do this to food. The last one to react was Draco Malfoy, and it seems that his reaction was what the whole school was waiting for. Finally, a small smile graced his lips, and, audible only to those close to him, he chuckled.

Just then, the post owls began to arrive. From that point on, the conversations turned to the events of the day. Draco continued to eat his breakfast, without giving much thought to the other people in the room. It was slightly disturbing to be eating things coloured such a bright shade of pink, and Draco found himself pondering how easy it would be to slip in something poisonous when everything ended up charmed this alarming shade.

Halfway through his second pink egg on pink toast, the muttering and squealing stopped, and Draco looked up. All heads were turned to the Gryffindor table, as one after another, multitudes of howlers ripped themselves open. The unlucky recipient of these was none other than Harry Potter. Draco stared, and began to feel pity for him. This emotion was soon crushed under the steel toe of a boot labelled 'Training'. Yes, with a capital T. Nevertheless, he continued to watch Harry for the rest of breakfast. He knew that there were thoughts running through his mind that his father would kill him for if he knew they existed. They were pleasant, and, oddly enough, beginning to remind him of the colour of his breakfast.

This wasn't a first for Draco Malfoy. These thoughts had started with basic sympathy at the beginning of the previous year, when he could see that the famous boy was distressed about the prospect of competing in a possibly deadly tournament, combined with the worry that no one believed that he didn't want to do it. To those who looked, it was pretty damn obvious, but since when did anyone _really_ look? They were all too caught up with their other Champion.

The feelings had developed from there, and through each task Draco had felt a little more for the boy. When the feelings had escalated to worry and concern for his health in the final task, Draco had realised that it was more than just… but that was it, he had never been able to justify these feelings to himself, and when he began to worry about Harry Potter's health and wellbeing, he had begun to worry about his own sanity. Long nights thinking over the holidays had corrected that, and shown him exactly what he felt for the boy who lived, and now he had contrived a cunning plan to get his attention.

Harry Potter left the room, and Draco was startled out of his thoughts by his best friend. "What was that, Draco?" Blaise Zabini asked, noticing the focus of the blonde's attention.

It took all of Draco's concentration right then not to stutter _"What was what?"_. The innocence of the question did not fit the situation. His best friend had caught him staring at the Boy Who Lived, and was giving him a '_you know what I mean'_ stare.

To save himself, Draco responded with whatever first came to mind. "You will have to wait and see, Blaise." Damn, he thought as he got up to leave. He'd dug himself into a hole. Now he had to think of some stupid Valentines prank to play on the boy. Today just wasn't working out well for him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to everyone who has read this fic so far. I only posted it yesterday, and already I have had 76 people read it. Special thanks to the two people who reviewed for me (LIGHTNSHADOWS and HeartsGlow). Thanks again to HeartsGlow for pointing out the error in the summary (now fixed). And my heart was warmed by the sight of all you people who added this to your story alerts!**

**Enjoy and please review!**

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Half way to the Transfiguration classroom, Harry stopped. Something was missing. His bag felt too light. That was when he realised that he had forgotten his books for the classes that morning. He began to walk towards the Gryffindor tower, knowing he would have an extra ten minutes this morning before class started to allow the students to calm down a little before the professors had to deal with them.

He thought about nothing in particular as he walked back to the common room. Subconsciously he muttered the password to the Fat Lady before wandering up the stairs to the 5th year boys' dorms. He busied himself for a minute or two, trying to remember exactly which books he needed for which classes, before he was startled out of his musings by a tapping sound at the window. He looked up, and the owl outside stared back, flapping its wings in a steady rhythm to keep itself aloft. He opened the window, and the owl flew in and dropped a letter on his bed, before heading straight back out into the sunlight.

Harry stared at the letter, unsure of what to think. This owl hadn't arrived much later than the post, and he assumed that it could have made it to the Great Hall in time if it had really wanted. This meant the letter was from someone who didn't want him reading it in front of the other students. His mind briefly flicked to his godfather, Sirius, before remembering that the Ministry of Magic had recently begun searching for him, and Sirius was currently on the run. He wouldn't have sent a letter, because there was too much chance it might be intercepted, and the Ministry might find him. That took away the only option Harry could think of.

The envelope was plain white, and nothing about it seemed unusual. He knew if Hermione was here, she would have subjected it to all kinds of tests to make sure it wasn't someone out to get him. He didn't care, he decided, as curiosity washed over him. He reached for the envelope and pulled out the letter. He felt the familiar cool feeling of magic wash over him, but chose to ignore it for a moment in favour of the letter's content. The writing was beautifully cursive, written in a green ink that seemed to make each word glow as his eyes passed over it.

_Dear Harry,_

The greeting caused him to pause momentarily, and his eyes flicked to the end of the letter. There was no name, and Harry was left wondering why someone who chose to remain anonymous would address him with such familiarity. He started reading again.

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy Valentine's Day. I think I should apologise now for the spell you no doubt felt, activated when you touch the letter. It was a prank, initiated to amuse my peers, and to remove suspicion as to why I chose to write to you. The effects of the spell are simple. Your hair and robes will turn pink, and it will wear off around midnight tonight. I hope you find it as amusing as they do._

_I bet you are wondering who is writing to you, and why. I cannot answer who, but I have been admiring you from a distance for some time, and want to get to know you better. In truth, I wish to be your Valentine, but it is difficult to share that bond when you cannot know who I am. Not yet. _

_I really hope you enjoy your Valentine's Day, and although I did not do anything as mushy as buying you flowers and chocolate (I shudder just at the thought!), I hope you understand I will spend the day thinking of you._

_If you wish to respond, there is one owl in the owlery who will know where to take the letter. He has a tag around his left leg. The tag is the exact colour of the writing in this letter, and if you hand him your reply and say 'To your master', he will know where to take it. I do not expect you to reply. _

_Love (although I do not yet know if that is what I feel),_

_Your Valentine_

Harry stared at the letter in shock. He was contemplating disbelief, and throwing the letter in the nearest bin, but something in the tone of the words struck him as sincerity. He tucked the letter into the pocket of his robes, which he noticed were definitely now a shade of pink to rival that morning's breakfast, and finished packing his books into his bag. He knew it would try to be useless to counter the spell, and he relaxed, slowly, deciding it would be better to chuckle with the other Gryffindors over the state of his hair and outfit than to let it get to him and spoil this particular day.

He laughed quietly, understanding now that whoever this mysterious person was, they knew the prank would amuse rather than distress him simply because he was around the Weasley twins all the time. He checked his watch, and then sprinted back through the portrait hole and down to Transfiguration, where his best friends looked at him in surprise and barely concealed amusement as he slid into the seat next to them.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The day passed with little incident for Harry. He managed to make it to all his classes, and after explaining the prank with the letter (telling Ron and Hermione that he had thrown the offending piece of paper in the bin as soon as he realised its effects), everyone had a little laugh at his expense. As the day wore on, he did begin to find it a little disconcerting how many girls walked up and told him they liked that particular shade of pink, and his friends watched with glee as his blush rivalled his hair and uniform.

The twins made the day considerably easier for Harry, when at lunch time they noticed the charm. They decided to imitate him, changing their hair so it was bright pink, and spelling their uniforms pink but with an added twist. Every few seconds, silver hearts streaked diagonally across the twins uniforms, in perfect timing.

Draco sat and glared from the other side of the room as the Gryffindors applauded the Weasleys' spell work. He was happy, in a way, that Harry had taken the prank so well, and that the twins were looking out for him and making Harry's day brighter, but he couldn't help feeling peeved. He knew that if he owned up to being the one to turn Harry pink, the Slytherins would laugh at him. If the prank hadn't worked, no one need know who initiated it. It was for this reason that Draco spent lunch slumped in his chair in a very un-pureblood posture, trying to plan something else so that Blaise wouldn't complain at him later. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn't even noticed the whole of his house sitting as far from him as possible, so they couldn't be tainted by his slouch.

_He needed to think of something!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, favourited, added to alerts, etc. Keep up the encouragement!**

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Draco's slouch remained with him throughout the afternoon. He was reprimanded several times by teachers for not paying attention, although he didn't notice. By the time everyone was walking down to dinner Slytherin had fewer house points than they had earlier in the day, all thanks to Draco Malfoy. He was receiving death glares from the other members of his house, and still he was wrapped up in the thoughts that had caught him up at lunch time. How to humiliate Harry Potter?

It was just as he reached the Great Hall that the answer hit him. People stared in wonder as his posture suddenly corrected itself. He dashed away from the hall, and dinner, to write a letter.

Blaise followed his friend at a distance, wondering what had made Draco off balance for so long. When Draco reached the owlery, Blaise was even more curious, but all he saw Draco do was write a letter, mutter a brief enchantment, 'Probably so that no one can recognise his handwriting,' Blaise mused. He shrugged, no longer interested, and wandered back to the Great Hall. Less than a minute after sitting down in his seat and tucking in to dinner, Draco plonked himself down beside Blaise, again forgetting his Pureblood grace. A smirk graced his lips, and there was a twinkle in his eye, and Blaise realised that what he had seen Draco writing was no ordinary letter, and he was about to see the prank that Draco had promised.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Harry was halfway through his second helping of lasagne when the owl flew into the hall. Most students looked up immediately at the sudden appearance of the bird this late in the day. Those who were too caught up in there dinner to notice were soon coerced by their friends to pay close attention. The owl seemed to be in no hurry. It flew in several lazy circles before landing carefully next to Harry's plate.

Harry stared at the letter clutched in the owl's beak. It seemed at first to be a howler in the dusky light of the Great Hall, but on closer inspection, the envelope was not red, but pink. Harry grimaced, remembering last year how many people had got these letters. They were, in a way, similar to howlers, but at the same time much worse. Someone had developed the idea just in time for Valentine's Day the previous year. The card would smoke, burst open and scream, just as a howler, but it would spout a love message at its intended recipient instead of nasty words. Harry reached for it, hoping to get to it and run from the room before it made a sound. The owl hastily moved the letter out of his way. It walked towards Ron, who was sitting straight across from Harry, dropped it on the boy's plate, and took off without a second glance. The room was silent.

The terrified look on Ron's face was soon matched by a look of horror on Harry's as the letter burst open to reveal the voice of Harry Potter declaring his undying love for his best friend. Harry couldn't believe his ears, but apparently the rest of the occupants of the Great Hall trusted theirs, because as soon as the letter had finished loudly telling everyone that Harry wanted to be Ron's Valentine, they began whispering. To Harry's disappointed amazement, the first words from Hermione's mouth were "You could have trusted me enough to tell me," before she stormed out of the hall. People up and down the Gryffindor table kept offering him nervous congratulations, and wondering why they never noticed his homosexual tendencies before. Harry knew he wouldn't be able to talk them out of it.

Without a glance back, he stormed from the Great Hall. He didn't follow Hermione to the Gryffindor Tower, but instead headed for the grounds, intending to let the cool spring winds cool him off.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Blaise clapped Draco on the back as soon as they had reached the Slytherin common room. "That was brilliant," he mock whispered gleefully. "How on earth did you pull that off? I saw you writing the letter, but I never knew you could make one sound like someone else. You HAVE to teach me that!" The other Slytherins overheard Blaise's enthusiastic appraisal of Draco's work, and offered their sincere congratulations as well. Someone had finally managed to humiliate the boy who lived.

Draco smirked. He was pleased that he had been able to pull it off. He knew it had been a long shot, given that he hadn't payed any attention as to whether Harry Potter had spent the year chasing girls, but the look on the Golden Boy's face when he heard his voice coming from the letter, and the way the Mudblood had stormed out of the room made his victory that much sweeter. He let himself be pulled in for a long night of discussion on the spell that he had used, and was prepared to butter it up as much as he could.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Harry made sure to stay away from Hagrid's cabin. He wished he could talk to the half-giant about this, explain that there had been a misunderstanding, but as far as anyone knew there was no way to change whose voice came out of a howler or its Valentine's equivalent. Hagrid would never believe that he hadn't sent it.

Oddly enough, it was at that moment Harry realised that he felt more alone than he ever had in his life. At least at the Dursley's he had been able to talk to his aunt, uncle and cousin, and when they had stopped talking after he came to Hogwarts, he had been able to talk to Hedwig and his friends. The owl would provide him little comfort now, he knew. He wanted to talk to someone who would believe this was all a mistake, one who might even listen to him rather than simply walk off in the other direction. Sirius would be the ideal option, but it would be about as safe for Harry to send him a letter as it would be to not bow to a hippogriff before taking its feathers.

Harry sighed and watched the moonlight reflect off the lake. The castle was hidden from his sight by a large bush, and Hagrid's cabin was in the opposite direction. Here no one could bother him. It was warm enough that he felt he could lie out here without his robe on. He pulled it off, bundled it up, and tried to use it as a pillow. As his head touched it, he felt something crinkle. He pulled out the object that had caused his discomfort and gasped. He paused, hoping no one had heard him, and then looked at the letter that he had received that morning. _If he ever wanted to talk to someone, he could._

Harry composed the letter in his head as he lay on the grass. The moonlight wasn't quite bright enough to write by, so he waited until he knew that his dorm-mates would be in bed, before setting off to the owlery to write and send his letter to his mysterious Valentine.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry I haven't posted sooner. I got caught up with family visits over Christmas.**

**This chapter is brief, but I should have the next up within the day. Hope you enjoy it!**

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_Hi,_

_It's rather difficult to write a letter to someone you have never contacted before, especially since the first letter sent was a declaration of affection. However, you told me that I could write to you if I wish, and right now I seem to lack the friends I would usually talk with. One thing I would ask of you before you read on is to consider this letter with no prejudice in mind. No bias. Take my words as the honest truth, or you will not be hearing from me again for a long time._

_I don't know if you attend Hogwarts, but considering your owl is in the school owlery, I think you might. With that in mind, you probably already know about what happened at dinner, and the first thing I want to make clear is that __I did not send that letter!__ I have no idea who did, or how they were able to make it sound like me._

_The second thing I want to make clear is that I do not like Ron in any way other than as a friend. I don't like men in that way either, although, if I'm being honest, I never thought of anyone in that way, guy or girl._

_I don't know what to do. I feel like tearing my hair out every time I stop to think. I lost my friends because of someone's stupid prank, and this is worse than last year. Last year, with the tournament, Hermione actually believed that I didn't want to be doing it, that I hadn't put my name in the cup, and was able to convince Ron. Everyone knows you can't change the voice that comes from a Howler, or whatever those Valentines ones are called. She'll never believe me. I don't understand why someone would do that. Was it intended as a simple prank, or was it meant to drive my friends away from me permanently? I don't think I'll ever know._

_Right now I feel more alone than I have at any other point in my life. I hope you write back, if only so I feel like someone in the world is willing to talk to me._

_Harry_


	5. Chapter 5

Draco's first reaction when he woke up was panic. He had spent the night plagued by nightmares of what he had done to Harry… _Potter…_ his mind was confused about what to call the boy. After what happened yesterday, it certainly wouldn't be 'Harry'.

Draco's second reaction of the morning was to wince at the loud noise that had woken him. Somehow one of the Slytherins had produced alcohol last night, and now the after effects were reverberating around his skull along with the current sharp noise. He went to pull back the hangings on his bed, and discovered that not only had he forgotten to pull the curtain around his bed last night, but he had also forgotten to get undressed.

Even in his dazed, half awake, hung-over state, Draco's ears deduced that the tapping sound came from an owl. This defied logic. There were no windows in his dungeon dormitory for an owl to possibly be tapping at. The owl, it turns out, was tapping its beak on the headboard of the blond Slytherin's bed. Draco chose not to think about how it got in. Instead, he took the letter from the owl's leg and left the dormitory, letting it out as he went.

It was very early, and since Draco didn't feel like waiting for Blaise to wake up and show him his collection of hangover remedies, he trudged his way up to the Great Hall. Apparently the house elves were feeling particularly telepathic this morning, because the moment he sat down, a plate of bacon, eggs and toast appeared before him. After taking a sip of his pumpkin juice, and telepathically asking the elves to keep his food warm for a while, Draco opened the letter and began to read.

The first words that caught his attention were 'no prejudice. No bias.' He stopped, and re-read the letter from the start.

_Hi,_

_It's rather difficult to write a letter to someone you have never contacted before, especially since the first letter sent was a declaration of affection. However, you told me that I could write to you if I wish, and right now I seem to lack the friends I would usually talk with. One thing I would ask of you before you read on is to consider this letter with no prejudice in mind. No bias. Take my words as the honest truth, or you will not be hearing from me again for a long time._

_I don't know if you attend Hogwarts, but considering your owl is in the school owlery, I think you might. With that in mind, you probably already know about what happened at dinner, and the first thing I want to make clear is that __I did not send that letter!__ I have no idea who did, or how they were able to make it sound like me._

_The second thing I want to make clear is that I do not like Ron in any way other than as a friend. I don't like men in that way either, although, if I'm being honest, I never thought of anyone in that way, guy or girl._

_I don't know what to do. I feel like tearing my hair out every time I stop to think. I lost my friends because of someone's stupid prank, and this is worse than last year. Last year, with the tournament, Hermione actually believed that I didn't want to be doing it, that I hadn't put my name in the cup, and was able to convince Ron. Everyone knows you can't change the voice that comes from a Howler, or whatever those Valentines ones are called. She'll never believe me. I don't understand why someone would do that. Was it intended as a simple prank, or was it meant to drive my friends away from me permanently? I don't think I'll ever know._

_Right now I feel more alone than I have at any other point in my life. I hope you write back, if only so I feel like someone in the world is willing to talk to me._

_Harry_

One line stuck in Draco's mind. _'Right now I feel more alone than I have at any other point in my life.'_ Well shit. Draco buried his head in his arms, narrowly missing the plate of food. What had he gotten himself into this time?

He knew that he needed to write back, but he hated the fact that he was the cause of all this mess. In fact, wouldn't it be brilliant if he could explain this was entirely his fault. This thought swept him up for a minute, but after a bit of careful consideration he realised that this was the worst idea possible. Harry felt that this stranger, Draco, was the only person he could trust to talk to him. Draco couldn't take that away from him. Summoning a house elf, he asked for parchment and a quill so that he could plan his reply.

-o-o-o-o-o-

It was around the time that people began arriving for breakfast that Draco finally tucked his parchment away, still not happy with his attempts at writing a reply. He wished fervently that he had a copy of the original letter sent to Potter so that he could mimic the calm confidence that he had possessed when writing the first time.

Finally tucking into his bacon, eggs and toast (which were thankfully still warm) he scanned the hall repeatedly, waiting for messy black hair and green eyes to appear. His friends arrived, they talked, and he nibbled on bits of sausage while they ate. When they stood up to leave he told them he would see them at their first class. Eventually, the last few people trickled out of the Great Hall, and Draco grabbed his… shit. He had left all his things in the dormitory in his rush to get to the Hall to read the letter. Potter hadn't turned up to breakfast and now he was going to be late to class!

He sprinted from the Hall and raced to class via the Slytherin common room. This, it seems, was going to be another dreadful day.


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