Harry Potter: The Vampire Prince

"Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!" Lockhart announced with an overjoyed expression. Eve thought that if he had an instrument in front of him, he'd have rushed up to bang drums and clash cymbals without hesitation. "I've received quite a few Valentine's cards from some lovely ladies, and I deeply appreciate their kindness! And—yes, that's right—I've taken the liberty of preparing a little surprise for you all!"

"He calls this a surprise?" Miles scoffed, pulling shredded paper out of his goblet with an expression of sheer disbelief.

Eve let out a quiet chuckle. "I'd bet anything that Lockhart actually thinks he's doing a good deed."

"Why don't you all like this?" Camille was the only one who seemed to enjoy Lockhart's arrangements. She giggled, clearly delighted. "Isn't the Great Hall feeling sweet and romantic today?"

"No." The Slytherins answered in perfect unison.

And then, as if things weren't bad enough, Lockhart clapped his hands, summoning a group of strange-looking creatures into the hall.

They were short, oddly shaped, and carried tiny harps. Even worse, they each had a pair of ridiculous golden wings strapped to their backs.

"What are those monstrosities?"

"No idea…" Nolan, who had just woken up, blinked blearily at the bizarre little beings, swallowed hard, and muttered, "I've never seen—how do I put this—such hideous and disturbing creatures before."

"We haven't either." Again, the Slytherins answered in eerie unison.

"They are our friendly and adorable Cupid Messengers!" Lockhart declared gleefully. "They will be roaming around the castle, delivering your Valentine's cards! But that's not all! After all, we're wizards! Why should we sit around passively, waiting for love to come knocking, like Muggles do? Why not take the initiative? Perhaps Professor Snape could teach you how to brew a Love Potion! Or maybe Professor Flitwick could show you a spell to make someone fall for you!"

"Love Potion?" Camille gasped, her enchanting eyes darting toward Nolan. She sighed dreamily. "That actually sounds quite nice…"

Nolan shuddered violently. He had the distinct and unsettling feeling that he was being hunted.

More specifically—by dozens of girls.

"That stuff should definitely be classified as a banned substance," Montague grumbled.

Miles, grinning mischievously, elbowed Nolan. "Relax, Snape would never teach anyone how to make a Love Potion. Not unless he was planning to kill them afterward."

Snape's expression at that moment was positively murderous.

In fact, it seemed like if Lockhart made one more ridiculous remark, Snape might actually pull out his wand and cast the Killing Curse on him right then and there.

After that, the rest of the day was pure chaos.

To everyone's horror, it turned out that Lockhart's Cupid Messengers could actually fly. Not by using their absurd little wings, of course, but by riding around on what appeared to be enchanted flying carpets.

This was discovered when a group of them barged into the first-year Flying class, attempting to deliver a Valentine's card to Madam Hooch—who was in the middle of a lesson. Suffice it to say, the flying Cupids were swiftly detained and later packaged up along with their carpets to be displayed in Lockhart's trophy case.

The trouble didn't stop there.

During Transfiguration class, one of the Cupids was transfigured into a chair by Professor McGonagall and handed over to Hagrid for his hut.

In Charms class, another was caught mid-flight and, under the influence of a well-cast Levitation Charm, was tossed straight into the Black Lake.

By the end of the day, Hogwarts was in a state of absolute bedlam, thanks to the invasive, troublemaking Cupids.

Everyone except Lockhart, that is.

He was ecstatic. For reasons entirely beyond comprehension, he had convinced himself that everyone was enjoying the so-called "festivities."

Even the usually energetic Weasley twins were having a terrible day.

George was in a foul mood because he'd discovered that the girl he liked, Angelina Johnson, hadn't given him chocolate—but had instead sent a Valentine's card to Thomas, a Hufflepuff fifth-year.

As for Fred… well, his situation was even worse.

Since Christmas, Fred had developed a massive crush on a fourth-year Ravenclaw girl. He thought she was gorgeous, adorable, and a truly charming young witch.

A week before Valentine's Day, Fred had painstakingly copied down what he believed to be the most romantic Muggle poetry (which George thought was hilariously awful), intending to recite it to her in person.

Then came disaster.

During their last trip to Hogsmeade, Fred had accidentally witnessed the girl he liked kissing another Ravenclaw boy inside the Three Broomsticks.

Five minutes before that, he had been laughing along with everyone else about how Percy had gotten slapped by Penelope Clearwater.

In short, for the Weasley twins, this Valentine's Day was nothing short of a complete catastrophe.

By dinnertime, the twins were slumped over the Gryffindor table in despair.

"Hey, mate."

"How'd it go? Did you have any success?"

Their friend Lee Jordan, equally dejected, heaved a sigh. "An absolute, undeniable failure." He shrugged. "I took your advice and casually asked Doralee who she was planning to give her sweets to. She smiled at me and, with great enthusiasm, said she'd already given them to Nolan. She even said she personally made them and really hopes he'll like them. Then she asked me, 'Do you think I'm as good as Stock?'"

Lee Jordan stabbed his fork into a sausage, tearing it to shreds.

"Don't let it get to you, mate."

One twin slung an arm over his shoulder.

The other plopped down on his other side, plate in hand. "Cheer up. Look, every wizard at Hogwarts had a rough time today. Eight got turned down by Penelope, five got rejected by Lauren, and the beautiful Miss Siss—poor, unfortunate soul—gave all the coveted sweets to Diggory. Face it, nobody won today."

"Nobody?" Lee scoffed, nodding toward the Slytherin table. "Say that after you take a good look at Nolan."

"Oh, for the love of Merlin—I knew it!"

At the Slytherin table, an actual mountain of colorful Valentine's gifts had formed.

Eve Stock sat beside it, looking exasperated as she tried to sort and organize the sheer volume of presents. Alicia Field was helping her, while Miles Bletchley hovered nearby, making all sorts of unnecessary comments.

Throughout the Great Hall, dozens of male students—many of whom had suffered various romantic failures that day (estimated to be about 80% of the school's male population)—were now glaring daggers at Nolan.

This group included not only the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan but also the Boy Who Lived himself—Harry Potter—and his best friend, Ron Weasley.

"Nolan has officially angered the masses," one twin murmured darkly.

"You know," the other mused with a sinister grin, "he has the right to be happy. But we also have the right to strip that happiness away and drown it in misery."

"We must defend our rights!" the first twin declared dramatically.

"I'm in," Lee Jordan said, smirking as he clapped hands with them. "Nolan can't have it this easy. He has to suffer. Just a little."