Author's Note: Written for the Houses Competition, Year 4. EWE. It's been years since the war ended and friendships are flourishing all over the place. But as always, love is a battlefield and the latest muggle craze to invade the wizarding world is a nightmare: speed dating.

Player: Slythadri

House: Slytherin

Year: 2

Category: Standard

Prompt: [Event] Speed Dating

Word Count: 1985

"Are you almost ready?"

Draco closed his eyes so she wouldn't see him roll them in his reflection from the full-length mirror. He felt her poised steps approaching him from behind, a hand gliding over his shoulder, brushing away nonexistent lint. She stood in front of him and ghosted over his perfect Windsor tie, smiling.

"You look perfect, my Dragon. I have to admit, the muggle-born tailor knows what he's doing. The suit makes you look handsome yet approachable, regardless of the ladies' backgrounds. And shows your figure better than robes."

"Let me be clear, Mother: I'm going to this ridiculous event only because I couldn't talk you out of it," he said, still looking at his reflection.

Narcissa softly gazed at her son, a look similar to the one she used when he was younger. "I appreciate you humoring me, darling. Why don't you try to relax and have fun? These events are very popular among muggles, there must be something about them to be so."

"Seriously, Mother, when I told you that I wholeheartedly supported you embracing muggle culture I should've known it would come back to bite me."

Narcissa chuckled softly and patted his cheek. "Don't be so dramatic, dear. Dating ten women in one night should be any wizard's dream."

This time Draco couldn't help himself and rolled his eyes. "Speed dating. Even the name is ridiculous," he said, kissing his mother's cheek before disapparating.

He popped up in a luxurious private dining room in a rooftop restaurant in London.

"Right on time. Very good, Mr. Bachelor, welcome to your party," cooed a familiar voice.

"Pansy. Why are you doing this to me?" said Draco massaging his forehead with his fingers.

"Don't Avada the messenger, darling. I'm just doing Cissy a favor. And can you blame her? She really wants grandchildren. Now follow me, your table is back here."

Draco took a deep breath. At least he knew now that the food and drinks would be top notch. Pansy Parkinson was the best event organizer in Wizarding Britain. She gestured for him to take a seat in the elegant, semi-circular leather booth.

"Here's how this works: ten beautiful witches are scheduled to floo in at seven-minute intervals. You'll have five minutes to talk to each one, then I'll escort that one out and bring the next candidate. That invisible ink parchment is for you to make notes whenever you like someone and would like to get in touch with her again. Of course, you will know some of them, but there will be a few fresh faces. Just have a drink, relax and try to enjoy yourself."

Draco sighed and signaled for Pansy to begin the awkward parade. He reached for the tumbler of firewhiskey that appeared in front of him, taking a long sip.

Pansy was back with a gorgeous blonde. She looked oddly familiar, and maybe a tad bit young.

"Allo, Draco, you may not remember me," she said with a thick French accent, tossing her long hair back. "I'm Gabrielle Delacour."

Draco tilted his head like a confused dog. "You're Fleur Weasley's little sister, right?"

The girl gave him a seductive smile, "I am not so little anymore, Draco. And I remember you well from our time at 'ogwards," she said reaching for a finger sandwich and biting into it suggestively.

Draco shifted uncomfortably. Blunt was not his taste. Had it been, he would have been married to Pansy by now. He sat there, quietly watching the Veela-look-alike put on a show on how to eat like a courtesan, and hoping for the mortifying moment to be over.

Mercifully, Pansy came back to get the girl, who blew him a slow kiss, which he responded with an awkward wave.

He took a deep breath. It can't get much worse than that, right?

"Hello, Draco Malfoy," said a dreamy voice. Oh, Merlin, apparently it can get worse.

"Lovegood. Hello. This is...unexpected."

"Don't worry, Draco, I am not here for you. I am here to help you by reducing the number of matches and make your decision easier."

Draco chuckled, "Thank you, Lovegood, that is mighty kind of you."

"I can see you don't believe me. But you will. By the end of the night, you'll find love."

He offered a sincere smile. It was a kind sentiment, even if he still thought the witch was a bit odd. So he indulged her by listening to a strange rant about something called a blibbering humdinger, whatever that was. She was leaving right after the event to go search for one of those somewhere in the South Pacific.

After Luna left, Draco downed the rest of the firewhiskey. When he put the tumbler down a beautiful black haired witch was sitting in front of him.

"Astoria? Didn't we already have this conversation?" he said, chuckling.

"Relax, darling, I'm here just to humor my mother. And to help reduce the number of mismatches you will have tonight. And don't you worry, I'm still gay." Then she looked around and leaned closer. "In fact, tonight I'm eloping."

Draco opened his eyes like saucers, "Don't tell me you are going to hunt for a babbling baboon!"

Astoria rolled her eyes. "It's called a blibbering humdinger, and we are not hunting them, we are searching for a colony to observe them."

Draco laughed loudly, Astoria joining him after a few seconds. Her mother had been horrified that she had chosen to become a Magizoologist of all things. And she didn't even know the whole story.

After his friend said goodbye, he was left with a ray of hope. Astoria had found love in the most unexpected place, against all odds. Maybe he would too, someday.

The next few "dates" were all over the place. Another French girl that he vaguely remembered from the Beauxbatons crew that had come to the Triwizard tournament. Pretty witch but she thought everything in England was "eedeous". Then came Lavender Brown, who apparently had time for a few cocktails before arriving, so she was all giggles and kept trying to call him "Dray Dray". Daphne Greengrass joked with him that her mother still had hopes that one of her daughters would become a Malfoy, so just like her sister she was there to humor the older lady, but she was deeply in love with a Hufflepuff muggleborn. Poor Mrs. Greengrass was in for a rude awakening. Romilda Vane seemed a bit too eager, asking if the Malfoy weddings were held at the Manor and if she would be expected to wear only heirlooms or would she pick her own jewelry. Susan Bones was pretty and sweet, but way too demure for his taste. When she left after a polite five-minute conversation, he sighed: that one too blunt, this one too demure. He was freaking Goldilocks.

He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds. Only two more witches two go and he could go have one last drink in his private library, then bed. When he opened his eyes, Ginny Weasley was sitting in front of him. Draco crossed his arms and lifted an eyebrow. He and Ginny had become friendly rivals over the years, as he was a donor for the Holyhead Harpies and was frequently invited to charity competitions between the team and the aficionados. They had good rapport, but there was definitely no chemistry there.

"Relax, Malfoy, I'm here just to help reduce the number of mismatches you would have to deal with tonight," she said, reaching for his firewhiskey tumbler, downing it in one gulp.

"Why do you all keep saying that? I thought you girls all wanted me to have a lot of dates."

Ginny made a face after finishing the drink and motioning for the glass to refill. Taking another long sip, she then gestured "no" with her finger. "Your mother wants you to go on a bunch of dates. We want you to go on THE date," she said. "That's why Pansy called reinforcements, so she could tell Narcissa truthfully that you had ten dates when actually, you are here only for one. We threw the French brats and Lav Lav into the mix just in case you actually wanted a bimbo or a party girl, and Susan would truly make a great wife but we didn't see that one happening either."

"And what about you Weaselette? Don't you want a piece of this?" he said gesturing towards himself.

"As if. But I do want something from you. Do you think your friend Zabini would let me buy him a drink?"

Draco cackled loudly at that. "Actually, the last time we went to a game together he said, and I quote, 'must be great to be the Weaselette's broom', so yeah. Are you sure you want me to hook you up with him?"

Ginny grinned evilly, "If that's true, I think I can handle it from here. Nice seeing you, ferret. I'll leave you to your main event," she said and walked towards Pansy. The two of them escorted a blindfolded woman into the room. Draco's jaw dropped.

Hermione freaking Granger.

Wearing a little halter neck black dress that showed just enough cleavage, soft curls falling over one shoulder, and beautiful black pumps with red soles, he had never seen her looking like this.

"This is ridiculous, Pansy, this is not how blind dates work! I'm not supposed to be blindfolded."

"It's for your own good honey, so you can get to know the gentleman for who he is."

Hermione huffed. That sounded like something she would say, but now that she was honest to Merlin blindfolded, she felt too vulnerable. Her friends guided her to the booth and helped her sit slowly. Pansy guided her hand towards Draco and he took them in his, an amused smile gracing his face. He decided to drop his voice an octave. This would be fun.

"Enjoy!" the Slytherin witch said and she and Ginny walked away giving him over-the-top grins and thumbs up.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Uhm, hello. This is a bit awkward, at least for me. I don't know if you are also blindfolded."

"I'm not. Maybe it is a bit unfair. But as your friend said, maybe this way you would get to know me better. Get to know the man I am."

She nodded, then realizing that he was holding her hand tried to pull it away. He held it softly and when she relaxed he drew patterns with his finger on her palm. She gasped. "Runic work. You know what you are doing."

He chuckled. There was something familiar and sexy about that, she thought.

"Indeed. Can you tell what it is?"

She took a soft breath and focused on the feeling. "It's an ancient Gaelic pattern. A plea of sorts."

He smiled. Brilliant as always. "Yes. it's a prayer to the goddess Branwen, asking for her to open the beloved's heart."

Hermione's breath got shallow. She was not superstitious, but right now she felt like her heart was indeed cracking open. "Tell me about her," she whispered.

He indulged her and went on a lengthy explanation of the old gods and the rituals to gain their favors, while she unconsciously leaned closer and closer until he was moving her hair to speak on her ear.

Goosebumps filled her skin and she spoke softly, "You know, speed dates are supposed to last five minutes, and blind dates do not include blindfolds. We are breaking the rules here."

"Neither of us is known for following the rules, Hermione."

She drew a breath, "I know who you are."

"Say it." His voice was feral, almost a growl.

"Draco," she purred.

He moved his hand slowly across her face to reach for the blindfold but she stopped him.

"Leave it. I do want to get to know who you really are."