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Chapter 447 - Valentine's Finale

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Pansy was waiting in the Arithmancy corridor, of all places. Empty, quiet, dim enough to feel like after-hours. She stole a couple of candles from the study alcove and floated them up near the tall windows, giving the corridor a soft amber glow. She wasn't sitting or pacing, just leaning against the stone, arms crossed, like she was ready for ages and everyone else was the late one.

Harry approached with an eyebrow raised. "Romantic corridor rendezvous?"

"Better than sharing a couch in the common room while Daphne listens in with Extendable Ears," Pansy replied with a teasing smile.

"I am sure she would appreciate the dedication to planning."

"She would appreciate a full report," Pansy muttered. "But I am not giving her one."

She studied him for a beat, then gave a small nod toward the alcove. "I 'acquired' a bottle from Snape's stores. No, don't get smug... everyone else's dates were themed. I thought potions and sabotage suited me better."

Harry followed her gaze to a small picnic setup... if it could be called that. A thin blanket, two glasses, the pilfered bottle half-wrapped in a tea towel, and a plate of charmed biscuits that definitely came from the Slytherin stash. Everything had that no-nonsense, just-shy-of-tidy look that was peak Pansy.

"You are the only one who brought contraband," he said, crouching down.

"Tracey brought treacle tart, which is basically contraband. Daphne bought an entire reservation. Luna folded birds that scream dreams. I figured you would appreciate something low-effort."

He sat beside her, unwrapping the bottle. "What is this, anyway?"

"Spiced cordial. Harmless. Probably."

Harry poured them both a glass. "To closing out Valentine's."

Pansy raised hers. "To being the finale."

Pansy took another sip of the drink, then leaned back against the wall, one leg stretched out, the other bent beneath her. "You realise this is insane, right?"

"Which bit?"

"All of it. This group. You. Us. The scheduling. Daphne's bloody charts."

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"You going to keep it going?"

"For now."

She didn't look put off by that. If anything, she looked vaguely amused.

"Well, I hope you've got more stamina than sense. Because I am not making you tea when you collapse."

Harry smirked. "You would poison it anyway."

"Only if you got boring."

Pansy shifted to face him more directly. "I know I don't do the whole sweet thing. I am not Luna. Or Hermione. I don't want a picnic with moonlight and paper birds. I don't want to sit and talk about feelings. I just want..." She broke off, not because she was hesitant, but because she was deciding how much to say.

Harry waited. Didn't rush her.

"I just want to not be the one left out," she said, finally. "I don't need the rest. I just need my share."

Harry leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "You've got it."

Pansy gave him a look. "Don't humour me."

"I am not." He met her eyes. "You think I would be here if I was?"

She huffed, clearly trying not to smile. "You are lucky I like a bit of madness."

"You are part of it," he said, tilting his head. "And you are not quiet enough to be ignored, so…"

She leaned in then, quick and decisive, and kissed him. Straightforward, like ticking something off a list she already decided was hers.

When she pulled back, she gave him a short nod. "There. That's mine."

Harry blinked, then laughed. "Alright, Parkinson."

She picked up another biscuit. "Don't think this gets you off the hook, Potter. There's going to be another review meeting. I expect full transparency. Rankings. Incident reports."

"Right. We'll schedule the next chaos council."

Pansy grinned. "Better bring snacks."

They stayed there a bit longer, finishing the drink and arguing over which biscuit was actually enchanted to taste like champagne. Pansy claimed she could tell by colour. Harry claimed she was guessing. She hexed one at him. He ate it.

Eventually, she stood and brushed off her skirt. "Back to the dungeon, then."

Harry stood too. "Don't want to risk Daphne sending a search party."

"She would send Astoria. Worse fate."

Pansy paused just before turning away. "Happy Valentine's, Potter."

Harry gave a crooked smile. "You too, Parkinson."

She left with the last biscuit and most of the charm from the bottle, hair catching the candlelight as she turned the corner.

Harry stayed behind for a moment, leaning against the wall, watching the candles flicker above.

Nine girls.

One long day.

That night, all nine girls returned to their dorms to find something waiting on their beds. A single rose, deep red, real and freshly charmed to last years without wilting. A small box of chocolates, handpicked, not the standard Honeydukes variety. And one extra item, tailored.

Daphne had a slim silver quill, neatly boxed, tipped with serpentine design. Tracey found a tiny book bound in forest green leather... blank, with pages charmed never to smudge. Hermione's was an annotated edition of Arithmantic Theory & Practice, one she only ever seen in the black market list. Luna's had a charm bracelet with a tiny swan charm already drifting around the chain.

Susan received a heavy glass inkpot, etched with Bones family sigils she recognised, filled with scarlet ink that shimmered faintly. Hannah got a practical set of enchanted gloves... dragonhide, fitted, and perfect for Herbology work, with a note tucked inside: So you stop stealing mine.

Pansy's gift was a little bottle of perfume, not overly floral, but sharp, with notes of smoke and clove. A scent that said do not touch without needing to.

Ginny's was simpler... a red hair ribbon, not cursed, but slightly warm to the touch. Charmed to never come undone in wind or broomspin. She joked about needing one like that ages ago. Apparently, Harry had been listening.

And Astoria, though not officially on the "Valentine's schedule," still found a note on her pillow beside a folded unicorn-shaped chocolate. 'When you are older. Until then, stop bribing Luna for tips.'

No one said much the next morning. But breakfast was suspiciously quiet on the girls' end... smiles passed across the Hall, quick glances between schedules and sips of pumpkin juice. Even Pansy didn't complain about the toast.

Ginny flicked a bit of scrambled egg at Fred, who made a scene of swooning. Hermione was reordering her notes, but the corners of her mouth wouldn't quite stay down. Luna walked past the table, dropped a folded paper swan onto Hannah's plate, and settled next to Ginny. 

When Harry arrived, the entire end of the Slytherin table seemed to shift. Nine sets of eyes locked on him... each belonging to one of his Valentine dates. Plus Astoria, who looked like she was five seconds away from declaring a formal duel for "inclusion rights."

Across from them, the boys had clearly gathered for their own version of post-battle commentary. Fred and George were seated together, both flanked by Angelina and Alicia, respectively, looking far too pleased with themselves. George had hearts drawn across his knuckles... either Alicia's doing or his own. Probably both.

Draco was sat beside Lavender Brown, looking vaguely amused as she chatted away, her hands doing half the talking. Blaise had taken the seat next to Su Li, who looked calm and vaguely curious, quietly sipping tea. Nott, meanwhile, was awkwardly trying to keep up with Megan Jones, who seemed determined to fill every silence with stories from Herbology. None of them looked miserable, though... just vaguely resigned to the social chaos of Valentine's morning.

Neville, somehow, had roped in McGonagall's help to arrange a spot for Fleur at their end of the table. She was seated neatly next to him, calm as anything, and smiling softly at something he just mumbled. He was red to the ears, naturally, but didn't look like he was planning to leg it.

Cho and Cedric were there too, seated next to from Fred. Cedric looked far too comfortable, his hand resting lightly over Cho's. She kept brushing her hair behind her ear, looking half-distracted by him and half by the toast. Fred had Angelina propped up against his side, both of them loudly making fun of a failed serenade at the Hufflepuff table. George kept nudging Alicia with his elbow every time someone said "love," which was more often than you would think.

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