Thanks to Sanguiyn my wonderful beta, who not only saves me from grammatical errors, but also dresses as a super hero when she does it.

Disclaimer:

Loosely based on '10 Things I hate about you', which was based on Shakespeare's 'Taming of the Shrew'.

You all know that I don't own the Harry Potter characters (JKR does). But if I did, something like this would happen to them...

Harry Potter had never been normal. Even before he was a wizard, people had treated him differently. When he was young he was an outcast. The other children never played with him and he had always been referred to as 'that strange Potter boy'. This made him somewhat as an individualist.

The moment he had discovered that he was a wizard, and a famous one at that, he became somewhat of a consumer product from constantly being in the public eye. After every newspaper article printed about him, Harry felt as though they were making a copy of him, slowly selling him off piece by piece.

His individuality was lost between a scar and a prophecy. And now, after the media uproar during Voldemort's death, he felt that he had none of himself left. He felt like a soup can that someone had picked up at a grocery store and now processed forever, leaving him doomed to spend the rest of his life sitting on a shelf, merely watching everybody else pair off and carry out normal lives.

Harry craved to be normal. To go a week without having anything printed about him in the papers. To have people not constantly staring at his scar. To be able to fall in love without complexities. To have someone love him in return.

People loved him in the sense that they admired him. They put him up on a pedestal and stared blankly at him in awe. Fans claimed to be in love with him, but Harry saw it for what it really was. They loved his scar. They loved his bravery. They loved his victory over Voldemort.

They didn't love him.

Harry yearned for someone who would love the simple more real things about him. Love his flaws, like the way he always left his wet towel on the floor after showering. Love his hands and the way they felt in theirs, despite his numerous blisters from Quidditch training. Love the way he looked first thing in the morning when he had just woken up. Love his laughter. Love his smile. Love his voice. Love his smell. Love his touch.

He yearned to love someone in return. Have someone to buy things for at Hogsmeade weekends, hold hands with at mealtimes and in between classes, and make out under the bleachers with all weekend. But it seemed like a lost cause.

That is why, the evening of the dance, Harry dressed himself half-heartedly. He emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of casual baggy jeans and a simple t-shirt.

"You're not wearing that, are you, Harry?" Seamus asked in disbelief.

"Yeah." Harry looked down at himself self-consciously. "What's wrong with it?"

"You need to dress yourself up more!" Seamus proclaimed, and received eager agreement from his other dorm mates who were getting ready around them.

Seamus began rummaging through Harry's drawers and eventually stepped back clutching a pile of clothing. He handed it to Harry and pushed him back into the direction of the bathroom.

Inside the bathroom, Harry pulled his jeans on first, immediately realising why he hadn't worn these in a while. The denim was incredibly tight on him. He figured that there was no point in trying to change again, as Seamus seemed as determined as ever. He sighed audibly before putting on the shirt. It was a dark green colour that brought out his eyes very well. It clung to his body, showing the muscles that no one knew he had gained from all those years on the Quidditch pitch.

He sat down on the lid of the toilet in order to put on the stylish pair of shoes that Seamus had handed him. He didn't even bother looking at himself in the mirror before going back into his dormitory.

"Looking good, Harry," Seamus said, winking at him. "Let's start heading down to the Great Hall, the others have already left to meet up with their girls."

Harry decided that this was a good opportunity for him to discuss the pact with Seamus, seeing as they were alone.

"Seamus, I've been meaning to talk to you about something," Harry told Seamus cautiously as they climbed through the portrait hole.

"Fire away, mate." Seamus smiled at Harry, whilst stepping out of the portrait hole with a slight jump.

"Well," Harry began. He lowered his voice as they started walking down the corridor; it was crowded with other students heading down to the dance, and he did not want to be overheard. "I think that it would be a good idea if we called off the pact."

"Why on earth would you think that?" Seamus threw Harry a confused look, but continued walking nonetheless.

"It's just," Harry sighed, "it's not fair on you."

"What?" Seamus asked. "Of course it's fair. The fairest. The Snow White of fair. We're making sure that we're both not lonely or left out. We're looking out for each other!"

"I know that," Harry continued as they began filing down the stairs, "but I just can't see myself being with someone, and I know that you want to start dating seriously. It's not fair that your love life has to suffer just because I can't find someone."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Harry." Seamus gave him an encouraging pat on the back. "There is someone out there for you. You just have to give these things time."

Harry nodded glumly, still not convinced. "Then why don't we break it off just for tonight, so then you can at least have a good time dancing with someone else, instead of being forced to hang around me."

"Listen, Harry," Seamus said suddenly, becoming uncharacteristically serious. Harry immediately noticed a change in the tone of Seamus's usually cheery and energetic voice. "I know that it's hard for you to keep an open heart. Ever since Voldemort's death you've feared that people will always see you as the archetypical branded hero, and only want you for your fame. But don't go ruling everyone out just yet. Don't you think that you need somebody? Everybody needs somebody; that goes for heroes too."

"It's just so hard," Harry complained.

"I know that it's not easy to find someone," Seamus reasoned. "It's hard for all of us. You're not the only one."

"It's easier for everyone else than it is for me," Harry contradicted. "At this rate, I'll never have anybody. I might as well give up now."

"You can give up for now, Harry," Seamus sympathized, "but sooner or later you'll need someone."

"I need someone now," Harry murmured, more to himself than to Seamus.

"I know," agreed Seamus. "But there is someone out there who is capable of loving you for you, Harry. And I'm going to help you find them. I want to make the sacrifice you made for the whole wizarding world worthwhile."

"How?" Harry asked disbelievingly.

"Well," Seamus decided, "we keep the pact, including for tonight. And if someone asks one of us to dance, we have to accept, but we also have to make sure we find the other someone to dance with. And in the meantime we can just hang out."

"I guess that wouldn't do me any harm," Harry agreed, although he really didn't feel up to dancing with anyone tonight. He knew that if they asked him to dance, it would purely be based on the fact that he had recently saved the world from evil, not because they felt a true connection to him. In fact, the thought of dancing meaninglessly with someone made him feel quite nauseous.

He knew that he wouldn't get what he wanted out of any of these relationships. But to please Seamus, he would try, and knew sadly that he had a duty to his friend and had to soon accept one of the numerous offers to date that came his way. He ached for a love that burned like fire and moonlight, but that seemed impossible to achieve right now. So all he could do, as he and Seamus entered through the doors of the Great Hall, was hope that no one asked either of them for a dance.