Let the game begin. Beta'ed by my adorable Magzillasaurus.

Chapter Three

The whole floor of the Leaky Cauldron wasn't big enough to accommodate the number of registered participants. Not only the majority of Hogwarts alumni class of '98 but from a few years before the war, and a surprising group of older wizards that fell within the age range of the law. So, instead of the popular pub, the whole event was moved into a large room at the Ministry, now adjusted with similar tables and its dividing curtains. The catering was in hands of a house elf team; a concession from Hermione, after negotiating payment for the elves.

Seeing some witches over the forty enter the room, Pansy and Hermione gathered a quick meeting, "Our guys will freak out if they are paired with an old bat." The Slytherin princess sounded panicky.

"I see your point, not that you should call those women old." Blaise and Ron's faces looked as if they reached the same conclusion.

The small admin group, complete by now when the others approached, "Granger, charm this thing decently so no wrinkled old bat arrives at my table."

"I hate to say it, but Blaise is right, Hermione." Ron nearly begged her. "Can't we send them to a separate room? Have a space for those close to the expiry date?"

Blaise punched Ron in the arm, "Good idea, Weasley!"

The girls exchanged a glance, Padma filling in, "I guess I wouldn't like to waste time on a grandpa myself, Hermione."

"Okay, then where and how do we split them? I can't say aloud: all wrinkled ones in the corner!" Hermione remarked watching the crowd grow. She saw a flash of blond hair appear and she frowned. "Oh Merlin, he's here too…"

"Who?" Pansy looked over her shoulder and caught on quickly, "What did you expect? Draco is in the same position just as you." She huffed, "Here's the deal: he's my friend, one of my best ones. He suffered more than you think. Hurt him and this cease-fire between you and me ends immediately. No prejudices, remember? Your own words, swot."

"I don't like him a bit, Barbie."

"Who's that bint?" The sting missed its target, clearly, "I'm not asking you to fall at his feet right this minute either, Granger. I'm putting up with your Ron, give me the same courtesy regarding Draco."

"Fine." Hand dismissing it, to end the dispute, "How do we split the older from the newer generation? Draw the line at the thirties?"

A unanimous nod followed, Michael spelt it out, "From seventeen till thirty to the left, over thirty-one to the right?"

"Unless you don't find your taste inside your group at first?" Hannah remarked, "What if a witch in her thirties wants to test the waters in the older group?"

"Let her move in the second round." Blaise shrugged, "You gotta set the line somewhere. I'm eager to begin."

"With your test-ride?"

"That too, Macmillan."

"Hermione, one last thing. Which kinda questions should I ask? I have no idea." Ron rubbed his scruff.

She shoved him a copy of her own little notes, "I've set up a series for myself, here use mine." Just like in the old days…

Blaise snatched the parchment from her hands, "Let me see this...hmm...makes sense...smart question...didn't think to ask that...Granger, I want a copy too."

Pansy checked it quickly, "Woman, would you mind giving me one too?"

"Pans, just add one extra question: Top or bottom."

"Why would I do that, Blaise?"

"Is he dominant or a submissive? Or a switch? It's important to know if your partner knows his way around in bed, it's the first sign."

"You and your one track mind!" She shoved him off her, "Granger, is it too much work to copy this a few times? I bet there are folks in here that could use a nudge, not only your Weasley."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but set to work, making a pile of copies for whomever wanted them. Pansy gave her a radiant smile, "Blaise's question might be important, add it to your personal list, girl."

"Dominant in bed? Not a priority."

"Knowledge in bed is more important than their preferences. We women have needs too, witch."

"So, discovering the seductive arts with your partner is not good enough?"

"Believe me, one that already knows how to press the buttons is so much better than one you have to show the instruction manual to." Slytherin grin. "Let's start, everyone looks as they are about to take off. Jump on that platform and lecture the masses, Granger."

"I'm not out there alone, you all will come with me."

Using the magnifying spell, her voice sounded through the room effortlessly, "Hello! Thank you for being so plentifully present. My team and I," gesturing behind her, "Welcome you at the first of a few sessions, hoping, in the end, to help you find your other half." She cleared her throat, "We'll be dividing you into two groups, all of you between seventeen and thirty: you'll use the left side of this area, from thirty on…"

Blaise whispered to Ron, "Including all wrinkled about to expire females."

Pansy's finger probed in his side, "And males. Shut your mouth, sweetie, before she hexes your lips."

The brunette shot them an ugly look, "...go to the right. For those who wish for some guidance, there's a list with examples of questions you can use. Now, my friends and I will assign each wizard a number which will remain hidden until the very last challenge. The wizards will do this behind the curtain, witches please, remain on this side, we will be with you shortly."

While she spoke people moved into their appropriate places, divided according to age group and gender. "We'll magically link your name to your number, so cheating will be impossible. If you attempt to do so, you'll be aware of the consequences."

Pansy noticed a certain pleasure in Hermione's gaze. The Slytherin witch heard the brunette explain further, "The women will sit on this side of the table, dividers and automatically enhanced muffliatos between each occupant to ensure privacy. Each session takes ten minutes, ask your questions, give honest answers and at the end, write down the number of your partner plus if you want to see him again or not."

Blaise interrupted, "Easily said: if you like him, check it otherwise cross his number off. Fellows, got it? Oh, and what she almost forgot. Don't share your identity before the end, we want you to choose your partner based on your gut feelings." He winked at Hermione, "Not let prejudices or preferences cloud your judgement. Granger, can we start with those lists?"

"Of course, Zabini. Will you do the honours for your fellows?"

The next half hour was spent assigning each participant his ID number. Blaise made sure he had the easy job, "My mate Ron here and I will identify the wizard. You and Ernie write it down." Ernie and Michael had difficulty keeping up with the registering of names, Ron and Blaise kept a hard pace.

Blaise perused the parchment, "Macmillan, number sixty-nine is mine. If you see it appear, add my name to it."

"What's special about that number?"

"Sixty-nine? Boy, I'm not giving you those types of lessons, mate. Find the meaning for yourself or ask Granger for a practical demonstration." He shared a look with Ron to see his reaction, but the ginger-head gave him a confused look.

"I might do that." Ernie didn't get the hidden hint.

"Please, tell me afterwards," snort, "How it went."

Ron announced, "Harry you're number fifty-five."

Harry inquired, "And you?" Ron signed him for later.

"My mate, Draco, you're number eighty-four." Blaise patted the blond, jerking the man forward. He got rewarded with an annoyed look.

"Funny, Blaise. And thanks for getting rid of the old bats, for a while I feared being paired with a rag almost as old as my mother."

"Imagine your mother's face!" Blaise broke into a laughter, just like Ron, who heard it all. "Mum, meet my fiance and yes, she's only two years younger than you."

"Zabini, you're full of shite, bro. It will cost you a firewhiskey tonight."

"Good thought, let us gather tonight at the Leaky and discuss our first day." Blaise elbowed Ron, "Weasley, you coming?"

"Since when are we chums?"

"New leaf man. New leaf. Men have to stick together, and we might be able to catch up on a few numbers so we can rule out some ugly bint."

Harry warned them, "If Hermione finds out… remember Edgecombe?"

"Have no idea who you're talking about." Blaise looked confused, though Draco had more a cautious face, "But, I guess I shouldn't neglect your advice. Ok, instead, we can vent our frustrations."

"I don't know, Zabini, too much bad blood."

"Later, Weasley. We'll discuss it later. NEXT!"

"How many more Granger?"

"We are almost done."

"This is boring. NEXT!"

"Daphne, you're number eight." Hanny spoke, looked up and smiled, "Hi, Luna, for you, I have twenty-nine." Scribbling quickly on the list.

"Granger, do you have a number already?"

"We're last, Pansy. Only fifteen witches left before our turn."

"Girls, why don't we get a butterbeer after this? What do you say, at the Leaky, all the women together?"

Luna jumped in, "Yes, all of us, Ginny, Daphne. Share our thoughts and nargle attacks."

Hermione gestured Padma to move on, "Why not? NEXT!"

Ron wrote his number on the back of his parchment, sixty-six. Blaise gloated, "I'm sixty-nine, mate. Just like I wanted."

"What's the deal with that digit, man?"

"Weaz, sixty-nine. Do a sixty-nine with a woman. Ring a bell?"

"Nope." Ron wondered if Blaise needed a vial for disillusions.

"Mate, didn't you ever go down on Granger while she sucked your dick? At the same time?"

Ron answered quite blankly, "Huh, no. Never did it to Hermione. Besides, I'm not sharing sex-secrets."

"Wait a minute, don't tell me you never satisfied the swot properly, licking her quim?"

"Zabini, stop it. No, we didn't do such things." Ron was happy that no one was paying attention.

"She never sucked your whistle? Is she such a prude?"

Hermione's voice sounded around the room, "Let us begin."

Ron answered quickly before choosing randomly a seat. "Don't call Hermione prude, she did suck my whistle. And she's pretty good at it if you want to know. One word to her about this, and you'll regret it."

"Than you're a tosser, you return the favour to your girl." Blaise shook his head, "Take this from me, I'm a pro. They'll thank you so much more for it." He chose his own place.

"Ginny, thank god, you're the last! Your number is forty-nine. Pansy, you're twenty-three, and my number is...thirty-seven."

"Oh, pity, no sixty-nine for us."

"Parkinson, I don't do sixty-nines, you sound just like Blaise."

"Girl, you don't know what you're missing."

"Pans…" She gestured a zip over her mouth. Hermione maximised her voice again, "Let us begin."