It was a work of art, utter genius, even. It had size, it had grandeur: there was no way his beloved would ever doubt his affection again!
“It’s pink,” Remus observed.
“Yes,” Severus grinned, causing Remus to consider just how much effort the other man had put into this, and at what point it had caused him to become mentally unhinged.
“And … are those sparkles?” Remus eyed the thing (Merlin, what was it?) askance.
“Yes,” Severus nodded enthusiastically. “There are several sizes, and they respond to various stimuli.”
Remus frowned at the dark-haired man. Obviously his pure intellect hadn’t been compromised, even if his sanity had. “Right.” He poked at the monstrosity gingerly, starting back when it released a series of iridescent bubbles that popped, sending wafts of rose scent into the air. “And … what does it do?”
“It doesn’t do,” Severus scoffed, “it is! It is a monument to the boundless love I have for you – that’s why it’s so big,” he added solemnly, “and now everyone will know that I love you!”
“Yes,” Remus nodded. “The four foot high words ‘Sevvie loves his Lupie,’ complete with spangled love hearts does rather give that impression.”
“See!” Severus beamed. “I knew you would love it! I … I…”
Remus watched, concerned, as Severus began to twitch. First his eye twitched, then his mouth, until his whole body was jerking. Remus was on the verge of summoning Poppy Pomfrey, when Severus suddenly froze, and toppled to one side. Remus managed to catch him before he landed, and immediately raced to the school’s infirmary, bellowing for Poppy the moment he appeared.
Poppy came running, and directed Remus to lay the petrified professor on a nearby bed. “What happened?” she cried.
“He was showing me something, and talking about it when he suddenly stopped talking, and it looked like he was having a major seizure. Then he just went stiff, and fell over. I brought him straight here.”
“Oh dear,” Poppy murmured. “He’s the third we’ve had today.”
“You mean there’s more of those, er, I mean more of this?” Remus cried, alarmed.
“Oh, yes,” Poppy nodded. “Why, earlier today the Headmaster was carving an ice sculpture of Grindelwald when he seized up just like Severus here, and I have honestly never heard anything like the caterwauling young Mr Malfoy was performing for, apparently, young Mr Potter before he keeled over in a dead faint. Stiff as a board, he was. Mr Malfoy, of course,” she nodded. “Poor Mr Potter is in another wing of the infirmary, attempting to recover from near-mortal embarrassment.”
Eyes wide, Remus murmured, “I can only imagine.”
“It happens every year,” Poppy nodded. “I can’t imagine why the Headmaster allows the school to remain populated on this date, though I dare say he will rectify that for next year,” she added, smirking.
“But why?” Remus asked, puzzled. “And will they recover?”
“Oh, yes,” Poppy nodded, drawing a sheet up over Severus’ chest. “This time tomorrow, they’ll be fine. As for why it happens, when some say it goes back to the Founders’ time, when Godric Gryffindor concealed a desperate love for Salazar Slytherin. It’s said,” she added, dropping her voice for a good gossip, “that Salazar got so fed up over Godric’s dithering, that he cursed the castle to expose the men who hid their love for other men. So every St Valentine’s Day, such men are driven to displaying their desire for all to see. Of course, that never ends well, and,” she waved her hand towards the comatose Potions Professor, “well, you can see the results. But this time tomorrow, he’ll be hale and hearty as ever.”
“Right,” Remus blinked. “Well, I guess… Oh, Merlin, I’d better deal with that … monstrosity before too many people see it. Excuse me,” he nodded to Poppy, and raced away.
Poppy snickered, and turned back to the rigid form beneath the sheet. “I do hope someone manages to get a picture of whatever you did.”