The chill of February hung heavy in the halls of Hogwarts, but there was a different kind of warmth spreading through the student body—a giddy anticipation that colored conversations with giggles and side glances.
Valentine's Day was nearing.
The castle seemed to hum with quiet excitement. Hearts began appearing in curious places—floating above paintings, curling into the foam of breakfast hot chocolate, even coalescing in bursts of pink steam from potions cauldrons. Peeves, naturally, added to the chaos by singing terribly off-key love songs from the rafters.
And Iris?
Iris was oblivious.
At least on the surface.
She noticed, of course, that people suddenly seemed very invested in her hair—asking what shampoo she used, complimenting her eyes, or offering help with parchment they never looked twice at before. Her cheeks colored more than once, though she handled it all with her usual dry wit.
She hadn't realized until now how many students had begun to take notice of her.
Dora was far more aware.
She grinned every time someone tried and failed to make a smooth compliment to Iris, hiding behind a too-wide sip of tea. But her eyes flicked often to Hadrian, and more often than not, she found his gaze already on her.
Each time, both would quickly look away.
Hadrian, for all his calm and collected demeanor, was growing... twitchy.
Not because of Valentine's Day itself, no. It was just that every time someone mentioned it, Dora would fidget with her sleeve, or tuck a curl behind her ear, or chew the corner of her lip—and somehow, those small actions held more weight than any prank or potion gone wrong.
One afternoon, as the trio sat by the fire in the Hufflepuff common room pretending to do homework, Iris suddenly looked up from her book.
"So... any plans for Valentine's Day?" she asked, voice deliberately light.
Hadrian choked slightly on his tea. "Er—not really."
Dora gave a suspiciously casual shrug. "We'll probably prank someone. Classic distraction method."
"Right," Iris said slowly, her eyes dancing. "Very subtle, both of you."
Neither responded.
But they did glance at each other.
And they did blush.
Iris smirked into her parchment. Oh yes. This Valentine's Day was going to be very interesting indeed.
Unbeknownst to the trio, in a corner of the Ravenclaw table, a cluster of first- and second-years were already planning who would try to give Iris a card. It was turning into something of a competition, with wildly varying strategies ranging from enchanted origami hearts to attempts at heartfelt poetry.
Love—or at least the middle school version of it—was in the air.
And the countdown had begun.