Word Count: 1018

Warnings: NA

Blind Date

"I don't want to go on a sodding blind date," Harry protested, shaking his head. "I don't want to go on a date at all! It's not like it went well for me last time, is it?"

"It's been over a year, Potter," Draco replied, sighing heavily.

Actually, it had been fourteen months, a week and two days, but who was counting? Harry glared at his Auror partner. He wasn't ready to start dating again.

Clearly not caring about the glaring, Draco continued.

"Besides, Granger said that if I don't find someone for you to go on a date with, then she will, and you know that she'd been talking about the weird guy in Maintenance for you."

Harry groaned. "Why can't all of you just mind your own bloody business? I don't need a relationship! I don't need a date, and I certainly don't need my friends setting me up!"

"Actually, I disagree," Draco said, leaning back in his chair. "Because I really think that you need to get laid. Like, yesterday. You're getting moodier by the fucking week."

"Fuck you."

…

"I blame you for this," Harry grumbled, giving Hermione the stink eye as he got dressed in the clothes that she'd set out for him.

Ron, lounging on Harry's bed, snorted, while Hermione rolled her eyes at him. She cast a charm on his hair, trying to make it resemble something that was under control.

She'd given up years ago trying to make it look neat. It never worked, and often ended up worse than when she'd started. These days, she aimed at 'artful messiness' and most of the time, Harry's hair would accept it.

"Is it really such a bad thing that we want you to be happy?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Harry sighed, but softened slightly. "Why do none of you believe that I am happy? Single people can be happy too, you know?"

"You're an affectionate person," Hermione pointed out softly. "Your main love language is literally physical touch. I'm not saying that you can't be happy while you're single, Harry, but you'll be happier with someone you can be affectionate with."

"Hermione."

"What?"

"Draco is literally just trying to get me laid, so that I'm in a better mood when we have to do paperwork at the office."

…

Harry arrived at the restaurant first, and he was led to a private booth. He took a seat, grateful that Draco had, at least, taken his concerns about the public watching his every move into account when he'd booked the restaurant.

He tugged at the sleeves of his blazer jacket slightly. Hermione had made him wear it, though she'd at least also let him wear jeans, instead of a full on suit.

He supposed that it wasn't the worst thing to have an evening out of the house. He'd been staying home a lot recently, and even his cat, Merlin, was getting fed up with his moping around.

Tapping his fingers on the table absently, Harry didn't realise who would be joining him, until the white shirt of the waiter caught his attention as he led Harry's blind date to the booth.

Harry looked beyond him to see if he knew who his blind date was, and his stomach dropped unpleasantly, as if the ground had suddenly just opened up.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" he asked, before he remembered that they were in a very public place, where it actually wasn't a good idea to go for a knock down, drag out fight.

"I'm here for our date," Tom replied softly.

Harry stood up to leave, shaking his head. He wasn't playing these games.

Tom Riddle was the junior undersecretary to the Minister, though everyone knew that, eventually, he would get the top job. There were enough whispers about it, even now, despite Tom still being quite young.

Fifteen months ago, Harry had been deliriously happy as his boyfriend, and hadn't known that Tom was about to detonate a bomb on his happiness.

Their break up had been… messy. That was the only word Harry could think of to describe it. Tom had been cruel, and Harry had been…

Shattered.

Tom touched his arm, and even though it wasn't even on his skin, Harry felt like he'd been electrified.

"Please, Harry. Just one date. If you want to leave after, and never see me again, I'll accept that. I… I miss you. I think that we deserve a second chance."

Harry paused, looking at Tom. Merlin, but he had missed the man so much, he couldn't deny that. Especially not to himself. The last fourteen months had been… not the most fun, and Harry wasn't over him.

He didn't know if he would ever truly be over Tom.

Sighing, he sat back down in the booth silently, and Tom slid in, facing him. "Thank you, darling."

Harry shuddered slightly. 'Darling' had always been Tom's preferred pet-name for Harry, and it had always made him feel warm inside, like he was loved, and wanted.

"Why now?" he asked, tilting his head. "It's been fourteen months, Tom."

"And a week, and two days. I know."

Harry blinked. "You've been counting?"

That was… unexpected. Harry wasn't really sure what to make of it. Sure, he knew how long it had been, but he was the one who'd had his heart broken.

Tom hadn't even really seemed bothered.

"Every day without you," Tom confirmed. "I just… didn't know if you would want to see me. When Draco informed me that Miss Granger had tasked him with finding a date for you… I couldn't take the chance that you'd find someone new, not without at least trying to win you back first."

"I'm going to stab him with my quill tomorrow. Just so you know. If he bills you for the dry-cleaning, that's why."

Tom chuckled. "Worth it."

"I'm not sure he'll see it that way."

"Likely not, but if it makes you happy…"

Harry rolled his eyes, and then picked up the menu. "I hate you."

"I know, darling. I know."