My Cheesy Greeting Card Valentine

A Harry Potter Slash Fic.

Rating: PG-13 (at the moment)

Summary: Draco Malfoy begins receiving very, very cheesy valentines.

Warning: Slash peoples! That means boy/boy action (albeit very tame action) so if you don't like it get acquainted with your  back button!

Disclaimer: Delusional fantasies aside, I don't own Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy or any other of the fine cast of these wonderful books. That honour goes to JK. Also, the Valentine sent to Draco is from a selection of very Chessy greeting cards picked for this very fic.

A/N: Okay, this is my first Harry Potter fic as well as my first slash fic. Please be kind and let me know how good (or bad as the case may be) this is so I know whether or not to continue writing. There's no point posting if no one wants to read it. Oh, and I just want to say thanks to Crystal Star Guardian, who absolutely has no idea who I am, but whose wonderful Harry/Draco fics have inspired me to try my hand at some myself. Love your Work! ^__^

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Chapter One

"What the…?"

Love was in the air.

At least it would seem to certain fools who let a little late February snow awaken every romantic notion in their Valentine addled brains. Possessed suddenly with the full force of Valentine's Day fever, the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had taken the late snow as indication of some pathetic omen of love's dream come true.

All except Draco Malfoy.

Valentine's Day?

Ha! Any day that caused one's brain to fill with fluffy bunny rabbit style crap was certainly not worth his time, nor, it could be reasoned, the time of any sane individual with half a brain in their heads. However, Draco remained completely alone in this notion At least, if the scene now playing around him at breakfast was any indication.

Every table in the Great Hall seemed to be breeding couples the way the Weasleys did children. The sheer amount of people sitting in each other's laps was enough to reacquaint Draco's plate with the small amount of food he'd managed to stomach since the food had appeared that morning.

The Slytherin glanced over to the Griffindor table, curious to see the mating habits of the average self-righteous moron. Draco didn't bother to stifle a groan, ignoring Pansy's inquiry to his heath, at the sight that presented itself. That Irish slut, Finnigan, was perched in Thomas' lap, feeding him some unidentifiable food as though his boyfriend was incapable to summon the brainpower required to feed himself.

Although, Draco mused, it wouldn't be that big a surprise if he didn't.

That damn female Weasley was pulling the most pathetic pair of goo goo eyes in Potter's direction Draco had a sudden urge to reach across three tables to slap her. And one look at the Weasel and the Mudblood cooing at each like doves on heat definitely erased the only surviving portion of his appetite. Only Potter seemed relatively immune to the general idiocy that surrounded him, content to munch on his apple danish, casting emerald eyes around in vague amusement.

God, how Draco hated Valentine's Day.

The truth be told, ten days still remained until Valentine's Day reared its ugly head but, much to Draco's chagrin, the Valentine Spirit had arrived early this year.

"To my dearest sweetest Marcia! Your eyes are like…"

Draco stifled a groan. He'd kill whatever stupid git had come up with the brilliant plan to convert a simple parchment into an enchanted (but irritating) message. With a simple spell, a poor lovesick fool could charm said valentine to read aloud whatever message was written in a myriad of pathetic voices and sing an equal amount of pathetic songs. Much to Draco's horror, the craze had taken hold with a vengeance. It would seem people couldn't contain their sap just to one day. Messages of this kind had been spontaneously spouting off since the first of the month. All it achieved, in Draco's mind, was a dull throb in the back of his head that refused to go away.

Disgusted and pointedly ignoring the sap gushing from the latest valentine, Draco made to escape the insanity when a scroll promptly fell into his bacon. Glancing up, he spied a nondescript school disappearing, having delivered its mail. Pausing to wonder why his own owl had not delivered the scroll, he retrieved it from his plate before it acquired a greasy stain and a breakfast smell. He barely had a chance to glance at his name (scrawled in quite an intricate script) before Pansy squealed.

"Draco! You got a valentine!"

Wonderful, Parkinson. Tell the entire school.

"So it would seem." Came his only reply.

"Aren't you going to open it?"


"Awwww, Draco! You haaaaaave tooooooooo! It's tradition!"

"Since when? These insufferable things only started four days ago."

"But Draco, you have to. Doesn't he, Millicent?"

"Of course he does," the girl had followed the conversation since the arrived of the scroll and now stared curiously at Draco's hand, still clutching the unopened valentine.

"What does Draco have to do?" Goyle's voice grunted into the conversation.

Excellent. Now everybody is interested in this bloody thing, Draco sighed. There was no way he'd be leaving the table until the damn thing had been opened now that Pansy had opened her trap. Letting out another longsuffering sigh, Draco opened the scroll, cutting Pansy off mid-sentence. The voice that sprang out of that Valentine could only be compared to bull horn cutting through a foggy night. So loud and clear it commanded the entire table's attention as it began to read:


            You sexy little devil (at this Draco felt hundreds of eyes bore into his head)

            Here's my Valentine's desire.

To have you beside me all night long

And light each other's fire."

Draco stared in horror at the parchment as a few scattered snickers sounded off around the hall. If all attention hadn't been on him before, it certainly was now. Unfortunately for him, the valentine was far from over.

            "The evening would be magical

            Such passion we'd provoke

            Most fellas couldn't manage

            Other guys are just a joke"

Draco sunk into his seat, dismal expression written all over his fine features. Why oh, why hadn't this pre-pubescent girl sent this damn valentine to Potter instead of him. He could only imagine the mileage that damned Griffindor would get out off this.

            "Gorgeous as you are (now there Draco had to agree with them)

            You always back it up with action

Bum and other sexy bits

Are part of the attraction"

By now the entire hall was howling with laughter, especially the occupants of the Griffindor table, who found the remarkable shade of pink, Malfoy's ears were turning quite amusing. Draco, himself, was seeing red. Whether from embarrassment or rage he'd yet to determine.

            "On the whole you're perfect

            And you know just what to do

            Planet Earth has many men

But none compare to you!"

Finally, the damned thing shut up, leaving only the hysterical laughter of his fellow students echoing throughout the hall. Draco had finally decided which emotion suited this particular occasion. Fury flashing in his silver eyes, Draco rounded on his first victim.


Pansy snorted back her giggles as she turned to Draco, "Yes, Draco"

"Did you send this…this piece of…"

Pansy snorted again, "Of course not! Why would I send you such a pathetic valentine?"

Though what her mouth said and her face said was an entirely different story and Draco plainly saw "But I wish I had" written all over pug-like face.

"Oi! Malfoy! Seems you've a rabid fangirl after your bones!"

Draco whirled to face the voice, belonging to a very smug Ron Weasley, who at that very moment was trying very hard not to collapse on the floor. Incensed, Draco stormed over to the table where most of the seventh years were having a time keeping themselves upright.

"Shut up, Weasel," Draco snapped.

"A little slow on the cutting sarcasm today are we Malfoy?" Seamus added from his place in Dean's lap.

"A little slow on the brain activity today Finnigan?" came Draco's response, "Wouldn't want you to try too hard and strain something important."

"Now there's that wit we know and hate. I was 'fraid you'd lost it in a haze of romantic urges."

If looks could kill, the entire Griffindor table would be incinerated before they had the chance to cry "Mummy!" Draco's eyes shot ice at everyone in his line of sight but it achieved little, save inciting another gale of laughter to erupt over the entire table. Draco sniffed, casting one final glare in Finnigan and Weasley's direction and stalked back to his own table, not bothering to wonder why Potter had been remarkable silent during his friends ribbing. Had he not been so preoccupied in staring Seamus and Ron into their graves, Draco may have of noticed the tiny smirk, threatening to turn up the lips on a certain raven-haired rival named Harry Potter.

And he might of, just might of noticed a similar rolled up piece of parchment to the one he now held in his fist, peeking out of Harry's robe.

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Well, there's the first chapter. I'll post the other one if you people show enough enthusiasm. Oh yeah, this whole fic came from sorting out the Valentine Day card order at work with my good pal Kerrie. I work in a gift and card store and got inspired while laughing at the many funny cards we read that day.

Until the next chapter

The Princess Bard.