The food at Hogwarts had been deemed acceptable by the standards of one Aiden Brant.

It wasn't exactly the fare he was used to, but it was reasonably decent. More importantly, during the meal he had spotted Target #2: Hermione Granger. He hadn't taken much time to observe her before embarking on his challenging and perilous quest, but in his brief and careful spying during dinner he had observed that...

1. She liked mashed potatoes

2. She seemed a tad bossy

3. She was (thankfully) not completely unfortunate looking

4. But her hair was decidedly…pouffy

5. There were two boys sitting next to her that seemed to be her close friends, though he hadn't detected any signs of her being claim, which was encouraging

It wasn't the best of circumstances, but he had certainly had worse. He flopped back onto his bed, mind whirling. What he needed now was a game plan.

There was a version of this sport that merely required slipping one of his personal concoctions into both of their drinks and then locking them in close quarters together, but that seemed a bit beneath him for this particular case for several reasons. The first being that they were still in school, and that was a bit over the top. Secondly, it seemed unlikely that, after the effects of the potion had warn off, they would be any more amiable then they were now, which led to reason number three: that Draco had specified "love" as being the challenge, not "lust".

Lust was easy. Lust was physical attraction, but, while it was involved in love, it was not sufficient on its own. Cupid would settle for "like", but having them sleep together was not his goal on this excursion. He felt it was more of a challenge, this way.

He was in pretty good company with Draco and his dense cronies, but Hermione was going to be an entirely different problem. There were these invisible lines drawn all around the school of what areas belonged to which houses, which people could cross them and who could speak with whom. It was all terribly frustrating. He had tried to introduce himself to one of the Gryffindors, and Draco had looked at him like he had violated some cardinal rule of the universe.

He had been grabbed, dragged aside, and questioned about his "loyalties" and "purity". Aiden was not stupid, and had quickly lied his way through the interrogation, satisfying Draco's concerns. But the ordeal had opened up an entirely different can of worms: Hermione was a muggleborn. That was definitely going to be one of the two top obstacles to his matchmaking ploy.

Aiden had not been blind to this arrangement when he entered the school, but it had been a while since he had muddled in relationships spanning the debate (you don't think Andromeda and Tonks fell in love without any help, now do you?) and he had forgotten how much he detested the issue. It was ridiculous, really.

But it did make for interesting plot developments.

A grin spread across his face. He could do it, even if Hermione was a righteous little rule follower and Draco was an arrogant whiny snot. There had been less likely couples throughout the centuries that had gotten together.

Right?

He just couldn't think of any right now. He settled onto the bed, digging through all the famous stories of screwed up love that he had managed to make work despite massive issues.

Tristan and Isolde?

Tristan had killed her uncle, and she had nearly sliced Tristan's head off for it. And yet they had managed to fall in love. That had to count for something.

No, wait… that had ended tragically. And there had been a love potion involved, in any case.

He would think up a whole list later, to make himself feel better.

A hissing sound followed by a faint pop caused him to sit up. A girl looking to be about his own age was standing there, looking a bit out of place in a sweeping green dress, her long brown curls hanging around her shoulders and a quizzical expression in her golden eyes. "What on earth are you doing here?" she asked, surveying her surroundings carefully.

"I could ask the same thing" he said with a clearly forced smile, eyes dark. "Aletheia."

"You're not meddling with these mortals again, are you? Honestly, Eros, if you screw up like you did in Istanbul last week, I swear…"

"Relax. I won't. Love-hate relationships are my specialty."

"Tell that to all the tragedies you leave in your wake," she said, folding her arms across her chest and fixing him with a disapproving look.

He shot her a glare, grabbing ahold of his bedpost and swinging out of the bed. "Could you please do something about your clothing before someone comes in here?"

"Fine," she snapped her fingers, and instantly changed into a neat set of Hogwarts robes. "There, happy?"

"Ravenclaw, how quaint," he said, glancing at the badge on her chest.

"Your mother's looking for you again," she informed him, "How long do intend on being here?"

"I dunno yet," he shrugged, smiling mischievously at her knowing full she didn't like it when he looked like he was up to something. Probably because ninety-nine times out of a hundred he was. She looked about ready to launch into a lecture, and suddenly he had a flash of inspiration (which was divine inspiration, of course, coming from the depths of his own glorious soul) and he gaped suddenly with shock and joy.

Aletheia was disturbed by the sudden change of expression on his face. "What?'

"It's perfect!" he exalted, congratulating himself on his brilliance.

"What is?"

"You!"

That cynical left brow of hers was rising steadily toward her hairline. "Excuse me?"

"You're a girl," he declared proudly.

"Yes," she said slowly, cautiously, not appreciating the way he was suddenly seizing her up critically. "Your powers of observation astound me, as always."

"Look, I can't get to Hermione because the blokes in this house think I'm pureblood and there's vicious rivalry going on anyways between Gryffindors and Slytherins. They say it's because Gryffindors are brave and reckless, and the Slytherins like to look out for themselves, but the real reason is that they're both cheaters and they hate each other for it," he gushed quickly, beginning to pace excitedly back and forth. "Anyway, I'm trying to set her up with Draco Malfoy, my bunkmate. You can get into the Gryffindor house and help me from that angle."

"And why would I want to do that?" she asked with an incredulous shake of her head.

"Because you can't resist the opportunity to keep an eye on me."

"Ha ha. No, really."

"Come on. It's either that or I get desperate and start using love potions."

""Hermione Granger? Are you mad?"

"Of course. Love is hardly sane." He reached for his outer robes, fastening the clasp. "I'm going to find Draco, you square everything up with Dumbledore and we'll be set. Cheers."

Aletheia groaned. "Eros…"

He paused by the door, flashing her a charming smile. "Oh, and you might want to do something about those eyes. Gold isn't a particularly common color amongst mortals."

I have no idea whether or not I'm going to deal with the whole Voldemort/war thing that's supposed to be brewing in the background during all of this. If I happen to find a way to mesh it in with things or (if I'm extremely fortunate) I manage to find some way to make it matter to the story plot, then kudos for me. I don't know who's going to end up with whom yet.

Aiden: what do you mean? Of course we know how it's going to end. I'm brilliant.

He's sure, but I still have my doubts. We'll see what happens.

Oh, and some quick notes about the mythology portion.

Eros/Cupid/Aiden... Eros is the greek name for Cupid.

and Aletheia is Greek for truth. She's an original character, but she's supposed to embody logic/wisdom.