Chapter 11 Owline Dating
Hermione sat in her pajamas with a cup of hot tea in one hand and The Daily Prophet in the other. She had yet to begin her Saturday morning ritual of devouring the contents of the paper because her mind kept wondering to the events of the night previous. She touched her lips in remembrance of the kiss. She couldn't comprehend it. At first he was cold, then welcoming. What had changed his attitude? When she tried to sift through his mind he unwittingly allowed her into his thoughts and she discovered he had fantasized about reading to her. Reading Hogwarts: A History no less! Until last night, she was certain her love for that book was unparalleled. However, as a member of the Golden Trio, she was often sought out by greedy wizards wishing to use her fame to their benefit. She kept searching her mind for any wizard beside Ron and Harry that knew the depth of appreciation she had for that book. Was it possible a wizard might have known it was her and was trying to manipulate the date? After a few minutes she dismissed her paranoia. Nobody but Malfoy knew she was a Legilimens, and he had already mentioned once, outside Court Eight, that he did not see her as marriage material. Besides, the Anonymity Hat had grouped the most compatible witches and wizards for each night of Polyjuice Speed Dating, so it should not be so odd that she found a fellow book lover. Hermione just never imagined it was so precise.
By the time her tea had cooled to room temperature, she was able to focus once more and reread the front page headline: Polyjuice Speed Dating a Magical Cultural Affairs Success. The article was written by none other than Rita Skeeter, so naturally it was riddled with twisted information and inaccuracies. To begin, Skeeter credited the Wizengamot Council with foreseeing "Wizarding Britain's dire need to come together as one, and creating the Office of Magical Cultural Affairs" as its answer. She continued their praise and aptitude by recognizing "the brains behind it all, the Head of the newly appointed Office, Mr. Draco Malfoy, who so cleverly outlined the Voluntary Search for Compatible Partners campaign." As she continued to peruse the article, bitterly reading her words and ideas unjustly ascribed to Malfoy, her anger grew exponentially. She had to perpetually remind herself that the article was by Rita Skeeter, and Malfoy very well could have accredited her. There was mention of a Polyjuice Ballroom Dance which Hermione had never discussed with Malfoy. She was sure there was truth to the event since affluent Malfoy was a socialite at heart, and the date nights had been advantageously positive. The article ended with Skeeter asking Malfoy if he was looking for love. His response was, "Love comes in so many varieties, and we are programmed to accept it. Witches and wizards participating in the VSCP campaign need only surrender to the Love around them." Hermione read and reread the final lines of the article, wondering what truth, if any, lay behind his marketing words.
Over the past month, meeting with Malfoy had been a surprisingly pleasant event. On her gradient scale of acquaintances, he was creeping closer and closer to what she would define as a friend. He seemed to enjoy her presence as well. At least, that is what she perceived, but Hermione had found her social deficiencies left her with an ineptitude of knowing when she was disliked. Every once in a while, the most miniscule of a thought of him romantically snuck into her forethoughts. Embarrassed, she would quickly dismiss it. However, after last night's "date," the notion of a romantic Malfoy was cast aside and replaced by the idea of Daniel. The thought was short lived as Hermione remembered Ron was dropping by and quickly dressed.
Ron floo'd in within minutes of Hermione pulling her hair into a bun. He walked over to kiss her cheek in greeting and they began a chat about their successes last night. "So, what did you look like last night, 'Mione? I had a tall muscular build. It made me want to lift some weights afterward. Still do, come to think of it."
Hermione laughed. "Well then, we definitely did not meet each other last night. I was the short strawberry blonde with big assets."
Ron's eyes widened. "I saw you! I was going to introduce myself, but all the guys around me described you as 'uninviting', to put it pleasantly. I didn't want to spoil my night."
She laughed once more. "I take it you had a successful match?"
"More than one, actually. Good thing the owline started this morning. I posted my profile and wrote to two of the women I saw last night. I hope they post soon. Were you the one that invented the charmed parchment? I signed it Ron and my signature erased immediately. I kept resigning it until I realized I needed to use my pseudonym. I figured that was your work." He walked into her kitchen and then back out with a croissant in hand.
"It was. Although Rita Skeeter would have you believe it was all Malfoy's."
"Oh yeah, I was wondering what you thought of that. She is full of it." Ron took a bite. "Just remember all the lies she wrote about you and Harry. I can't believe I am defending Malfoy of all people, but he seems to not be the antagonistic prat he was before the war, and he really is executing all your ideas well." Ron was not privy to the secret partnership Hermione and Malfoy had formed for mutually beneficial reasons.
There was a tap at the window. Hermione recognized the southern white-faced Ministry owl as one recently purchased by the new office. "This must be an owline message for you, Ron," Hermione stated as she opened her window. The owl flew in, pecked at Ron's half eaten breakfast, and dropped the letter on Hermione's table before swiftly flying off.
"They must be working overtime already. I hear Malfoy had to create an Owline Caregiver position because it was just too much." He eagerly walked to the table. "'Mione, you were wrong. This isn't for me, it's for you. You didn't tell me you met someone," at that Ron lifted his eyebrows up and down at her.
She playfully hit his shoulder before taking the owline message. "If you don't mind, I will read this later, in private."
"You are postponing reading? Oh, this is big. What did the bloke do? Did he talk about Hogwarts: A History?" Ron chuckled at his own joke, but Hermione stood motionless. "Wait, he did talk about Hogwarts: A History? Blimey, 'Mione, I thought you were the only one that liked that book! I will leave you to your letter then," he proclaimed quite amused. "I hope the witches I met last night blush as prettily as you when they receive my messages. See you at work on Monday." Ron kissed her cheek and left the same way in which he came.
The moment she was alone she tore open the letter and ravished the words on the parchment. It read:
Dear A,
I thoroughly enjoyed our little repartee last night. It was unfortunate that it was not our true lips that touched when I stole a kiss. Nevertheless, I regret nothing. Tell me I will see you again at next week's Polyjuice Ballroom Dance. I hope to confiscate much more from you that night.
Your Thief,
D.
Hermione touched her lips, flushed. Seduction by a verbose stranger was enticing and new. She would never admit it to anyone (primarily because she never considered herself that type of witch), but five short minutes and a lascivious letter was all it took for her to fall for a wizard.
