Title: Speed Dating Doesn't Work

Words: 3,166

Summary: Harry is forced go speed dating. Unfortunately, one of his dates is a familiar face.

"Hermione, this is ridiculous!" Harry exclaimed loudly, as he forcefully attempted to move out of his best friend's firm grasp. Hermione, ever the ruthless wench, paid him no mind and continued to steer him in the direction of the jostling pub. Harry could already see several men crowded around a set of tables that had been arranged in a neat circle, each sizing up the other as they waited for the woman who held a stopwatch in her hand.

"Stop being difficult, Harry," Hermione scolded, coming to a stop among the sizable crowd. "This is good for you."

She beamed at him as the men who surrounded them eyed Harry interestedly. He groaned and tried to make one last dash for the door, before Hermione's hand shot out and latched itself to his arm. She lead him towards the bar where they managed to snag two empty stools.

"This is the worst idea you've ever had," He muttered at her, faking a smile at a rather horse-looking gentlemen who had just winked at him. He felt ill. "And that's including the time you thought dating Cormac McLaggen was a good idea."

"You know I only did that to make Ron jealous," Hermione said crossly, nodding her thanks to the bartender as he served them two butterbeers. She took a long swig and shook her hair from her face. "Not that it mattered in the end."

Harry looked at her in regret. Their breakup had not been an easy one. It had involved shouting, jinxes and a lot of mention of one Lavender Brown. It had been so long ago now, almost two years, that it was easy to forget what a sore subject it still was. "Sorry, Mione."

She smiled at him softly. "Just try and give this a chance, Harry. I know speed dating isn't the most practical way of meeting someone, but let's be honest here, you've tried just about everything else."

Harry glared at her but didn't disagree. She was right, of course. He had tried the online dating, the blind dates, the club scene, but it was all to no avail. He couldn't seem to make a connection with anyone. After the war, Harry had attempted to restart his relationship with Ginny. He had been completely exhausted of the battles, the adrenaline rushes and excitement. A quiet relationship with Ginny was exactly what he needed. Or what he thought he had needed. But after months of arguing and fighting, he realized that they were both too different to be together. The war had changed everyone. It was not a bad thing, Harry had come to accept later on, but it was change nonetheless. He had moved out of their flat a week later and they were slowly on their way to rebuilding the brother and sister relationship they had before. Ginny was a great girl, but maybe it wasn't a girl he needed. Harry had come to realize that he was attracted to both sexes and he was surprisingly okay with it. So many things were different when it came to Harry Potter and he chose to accept his sexuality as another. It didn't mean, however, that he needed to rush to find someone. Sure, it was nice having another person to share everything with, to curl up with on the couch after a long day of work, but it didn't mean Harry had to find that person right away. He tried to explain this to Hermione one last time.

"Oh hush, Harry," Hermione said, waving her hand. She craned her neck excitedly towards the woman with the stopwatch, who began to hand out nametags to the surrounding men. When Harry made no move to get one, Hermione huffed impatiently and hurried over herself. Harry could see her begin to talk to the woman, bushy hair bouncing as she chattered on. He ducked down as he saw her point over in his direction with a large grin.

"First time?" The bartender asked sympathetically, wiping down a mug with an old rag.

"And last." Harry answered, running a hand through his unruly hair. He took off his glasses and quickly wiped them down with the corner of his jumper. As he put them back on, a shot of Firewhiskey was placed in front of him. Harry looked at the bartender gratefully.

"On me, mate," The bartender said, putting the bottle back on its shelf. "For luck."

The woman with the stopwatch began to call all the participants over, her voice carrying easily through the pub.

"Shite," Harry mumbled and raised the shot to his lips. "Cheers."

"I can not believe you're making me do this, Pansy." Draco Malfoy whispered under his breath, glaring at the woman beside him, but it was useless. The bint was no longer listening to him as Pansy made eyes at one of the men standing by the entrance door. He snorted. The man was a fucking rainbow, a beacon of pure gay, but he didn't bother telling her. She was the one making come to the this stupid thing.

"Right on time, darling." Pansy said to him excitedly as a blonde woman motioned for all participating wizards to join the circle of tables arranged in the center of the pub. Speed dating, it was utter nonsense. He couldn't think of anything more ridiculous. Draco almost stumbled as he was pushed in the direction of the crowd, Pansy's nails embedded in his back.

"What the hell was that for?" He hissed at her, but she looked unfazed. "Do that again, Parkinson, and you'll lose that arm."

"Oh, quit your moaning, Draco, and go get a name tag." Pansy answered, perching one perfectly manicured hand on her hip.

He scoffed and smirked at her. "Name tag? No need. Even these blathering idiots will know exactly who I am."

Pansy rolled her eyes as the signature Malfoy mask became firmly plastered on Draco's face. "Hide behind that prick exterior all you want, I know there's a part of you that's hoping this will work out."

"Please, Parkinson, don't be ridiculous," Draco drawled, even as he strutted over in the direction of the tables. Already she could men perking up, eyes wandering down to her best friend's denim covered arse. Draco Malfoy made a hot Muggle and Pansy had no trouble admiting it.

"Have fun!" She called out to him in a singsong voice and ignored the finger he flipped back at her. With a flip of her hair, she strode towards the bar, intending on having a few drinks and watching in on all the fun. She stopped short, however, when she spotted a familiar head of bushy hair.

"Granger, is that you?" Pansy exclaimed delightedly, pulling up next to the other woman.

Granger turned to her and smiled shortly. "Hello, Parkinson."

"What brings you here, then?" She asked saucily, winking in the direction of the men who had taken seats at the tables. "Hoping you can snatch one of them? In case, you hadn't noticed, Granger, they're all poofs."

"Oh, I hadn't noticed," Granger answered dryly and took a sip of her butterbeer. Pansy wrinkled her nose. Butterbeer was completely plebian. "I'm actually waiting for a friend whose participating in this."

Pansy looked surprised. "I thought Weasley was still with Brown?"

"I'm waiting for Harry, not Ron." Hermione responded, rather bitingly.

A sudden shiver of delight ran up Pansy's spine. Oh, this was excellent. This was amazing, in fact. Draco would have a fit the moment he saw Perfect Potter. The Chosen One and the Death Eater's son, mortal rivals, on a 2 minute date. This was brilliant. Pansy glanced gleefully at the circle of men, who had begun the speed dating. She could spot Draco, viciously pouncing on a poor mouse of a boy who looked as if he would faint at any moment, and at the opposite end of the circle, his back to Draco, was Potter, who was miserably attempting to make conversation with a balding lard of a man.

"Who did you come with?" Granger asked suddenly, staring hard at her.

Pansy gave a tinkling laugh.

"You'll spot him soon enough."

Harry glanced over at the lady with the stop watch for what like the thousandth time. The man in front of him, Bernard, continued to chatter on about his accounting, stopping only to occasionally wipe the sweat of his brow. This was utterly mortifying. This was worse than any other date he had ever gone on. He didn't know who was worse, Bernard, or Thaddeus, the man before him, who had stared at him in adoration and thanked him profusely for saving the Wizarding World. Harry couldn't wait for this to be over.

"...I calculate the annual costs and I subtract them from last year's in order to–"

"Time!" Rhonda, the supervisor of the event, clicked her watch impatiently. "Next!"

Harry didn't even bother bidding Bernard good-bye before breathing a sigh of relief.

"Hello there," A man who looked to be about Harry's age sat down and smiled shyly. Harry immediately perked up. He was very good looking, with soft brown eyes and cropped hair. He was dressed in very nondescript clothing, nothing too flashy or tacky. He looked completely normal and Harry could appreciate normal. "I'm Joseph."

"Harry Potter," Harry answered back with a smile of his own. "Do you do this often?"

Joseph laughed softly. It was a nice sound. "Not at all. I saw the ad in the paper and thought, what the hell, I might as well go for it. I'm not really the type to go out to clubs to meet people and I thought this might be the next best thing."

"My friend dragged me out here. I'm not the type to be into clubs much either," He responded cheerfully. "I'm more of a sit at home, watching the telly sort of guy."

"I like that sort," Joseph said, giving Harry one of those shy smiles again. "I might be one of those sort too–"

"Time!" Rhonda's voice cut through the air.

"Oh, c'mon!" Harry exclaimed, looking at the other man regretfully. "Just when I get someone good."

"Contact information is at the bar and we get to pick one person," Joseph whispered lightly at Harry. "Just in case you might need to find someone after this."

"Thanks for the tip." He grinned delightedly. Finally. He actually met someone good, someone completely normal, not fazed by who he was. Someone who wanted to the Harry who stayed home some Friday's and just watched constant reruns of Doctor Who. This was brilliant. This was more than brilliant, it was fantastic. He couldn't believe his luck. Things were starting to finally look up.

"Potter?!" A voice interrupted his thoughts and suddenly, the flicker of happiness in his belly was exterminated as none other than Draco Malfoy looked back at him from across the table.

–

Draco tried to hide the shock from his face as none of other than Harry Potter stared at him from over the table, green eyes widening comically in despair.

"Merlin, someone up there has it out for me!" Potter exclaimed, throwing his hands up and then over his face.

"It's probably Snape," Draco commented after a few seconds. Potter looked up at him in disbelief. "If there's anyone twisted enough to come up with something like this 'up there' as you so eloquently put up, I'd go with Snape."

Potter continued to stare at him with those bright green eyes until he began to laugh. It did have a tinge of hysteria in it, but Draco took it as good sign. "I reckon you're probably right."

Normally, Draco would have been just as dismayed as Potter to find his school rival as his date, particularly as it involved something so humilating as speed dating. But Draco had to admit that time had been quite good to Potter. He was no longer scrawny, Draco could see, as his green jumper clung to deliciously broad shoulders and a trim waist. Potter's hair had finally been groomed, though wild as ever. And those eyes... they were still the same shade of captivating green.

"Potter, this could go two ways," Draco said carefully, leaning back against the chair and stretched slightly, running a hand through his silver blond hair. This did not go amiss by Potter who, Draco noted gleefully, regarded him with thinly concealed interest. "We could throw tables, scream and hex each other till we're blue in the face..."

"What's the second option?"

"We could talk and enjoy this little date like the mature, grown men we have become." Draco finished and looked at Harry expectantly.

Potter snorted but appraised him. "Someone has done some growing up, I see."

"I don't think I'm the only one," Draco responded and he let some of his own interest in Potter escape. His eyes flashed with approval. "You've grown up quite well, Potter."

"I'm not the only one." Harry said, repeating Draco's words back to him. Those green eyes burned mercilessly at him.

"No, you aren't." Draco said, smirking at him.

–

Harry couldn't believe it. Here he was, flirting away with Draco Malfoy, when two seconds ago, he had been thinking of quickest jinx he could throw in the other man's direction. He didn't even know what he made him stay where he was. All he knew was the second he had seen seen Malfoy's stormy eyes narrow at him, a fire he hadn't felt in months flamed in every vein in his body. Malfoy could rile him with a single word. But this time was different. Malfoy was riling him up in an entirely different way. Instead of the normal disgust, Harry felt a small wave of desire rise through him. He hadn't been lying. Malfoy had grown up quite nicely. He was sinewy and lithe, a perfect Seeker's build. His hair was soft and loose and Harry could physically feel his fingers itch to run through it. He couldn't fathom having such thoughts about Draco Malfoy.

"Like what you see, Potter?" Malfoy inquired, his lips curling into that infuriating smirk.

Harry smirked back, but then shook his head. "We're supposed to be getting to know each other, Malfoy, not flirting."

"But I was having fun." Malfoy sighed, but his eyes danced with mirth. "Besides, I probably know you a lot better than you think."

Harry scoffed. "I doubt it."

The other man shrugged him and smirked again. "Try me... and I bet you know more about me than you think."

Harry looked at him disbelieving but then nodded. "Very well. When's my birthday?"

"July 31st." Draco answered immediately and sneered. "National holiday, remember? And mine is..."

"Is it... June 5th?" Harry responded hesitantly. Draco nodded in affirmation. "I remember you used to get showered with sweets and gifts on that day every year."

"What can I say, I was a spoiled cheeky brat." Draco said with a wink. Harry tried not to smile. "Quidditch team?"

"Yours are the Falmouth Falcons, aren't they?"

"And you and Weasley used to sport that garish orange in support of the Channons," Draco said in turn. "We know each other a little better than you think."

Harry remained dubious. "That's all well and good, but I'd hardly say knowing my birthday means you know me at all, Malfoy."

"Maybe you're right," Draco said seriously, as Rhonda called for the next turn, "But Potter, we can get to know each other. And let's be honest, Potter, I know you want me. I can see it on your face. Either you step up and go back to being that risk-taking, annoyingly bold Gryffindor we all know you still are and you can go and pretend you're a meek, domestic normal guy, who would like nothing more than a quiet, submissive partner."

"Merlin, Malfoy, you're annoying." Harry snapped, hating the fact that Draco had cornered him in such a way and hating even more that he had never been so attracted to the smug prick.

Malfoy smirked once more. "See you around, Potter... or not."

Hermione waited excitedly on Harry's couch, taking the occasional sip out of her glass of red wine. It was a week after the whole speed dating fiasco and much to her surprise, Harry had let her know that he was actually going on a date with one of the men he had met at the pub. Personally, she hoped he had picked the rather mousy looking boy, timid but sweet. Joseph, he was called, as Hermione had cheekily managed to sneak his name out of the participant directory. Even if Harry hadn't picked him, Hermione was determined that if this mystery date didn't work out, she would set Harry up with Joseph. Harry was due home any minute, she was sure, and she had let herself into his flat, eager to be the first to hear about his date. She finished her wine and got up to the kitchen to pour herself another. As Hermione uncorked the bottle of wine, she heard the door to Harry's flat slam. Excitedly, she hurriedly made her way back into the living room, opening up her mouth to greet Harry, when the scene before her eyes made her stop short.

Harry had Draco Malfoy pressed against the wall, their lips working furiously against the other's. Harry had Draco's legs firmly wrapped around his waist, one hand of Malfoy's arse and the other tugging at his hair. They were rutting shamelessly against the other, groans of pleasure echoing throughout the flat.

"Fuck, I want you so bad." Harry growled into Malfoy's mouth, and Hermione almost squeaked. She had never heard him sound like that. Clapping her hand over her mouth, she carefully retreated back into kitchen. She kept one ear against the door. She'd never be able to Disapparate quietly enough and she would be mortified if Harry found her snooping about.

"Oh Sweet Merlin." Hermione whispered to herself, as Malfoy gave a particularly loud groan. She grabbed the glass of wine, along with the bottle and slid down to the floor, forehead against the door. Hermione took a long swig of wine. She couldn't help but feel a slight thrill of satisfaction. Harry had found someone through her meddling efforts, even if it was Draco Malfoy.

"Speed dating doesn't work?" Hermione grinned and closed her eyes. "My arse."

A/N: Just something that's been in my brain for awhile. Review if you're cool!