Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
A/N: Thank you to everyone who's reviewed this fic so far.
I was intending for this fic to be told almost exclusively from Harry's PoV but at the request of danielerin among others, Hermione got at least this one chance to tell her side.
There are some things from QTTA in this chapter so you might want to skim through it again to fully understand everything that happens.
Thanks again, and enjoy!
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The Reasons for Dating
Chapter 3: Compatibility
She couldn't believe this was happening.
Harry- Harry couldn't be- he was trying to set her up with someone. On a date.
Oh he was being subtle (at least, subtle for Harry) about it but he looked slightly ill at ease and his eyes never quite met hers when he was talking about how he'd also invited this David Lawson, a friend who also worked at the Ministry of Magic, and he thought this Lawson fellow and she would get along. ("I've heard him talk about having read Hogwarts: A History and L'Histoire de Beauxbatons more than once," he said, his teasing for once falling rather flat.)
He was trying to set her up. She couldn't believe this.
And mixed in with her disbelief was a nagging knot of emotion in her throat that would be something like heartbreak, if she ever acknowledged its existence.
He was trying to set her up. He thought she should be dating someone- someone who wasn't him. Oh the hurt was there, practically a living presence in her heart now. She had given up hoping, she thought, that Harry would ever return her feelings for him (the feelings she'd finally acknowledged to herself). But now, faced with this proof that Harry really didn't see her as anything other than his best friend (a best friend he needed to find a boyfriend for- she thought with the first flash of annoyance and outraged pride), she realized she had still hoped. Some small part of her mind and heart had still retained some hope. But no longer…
She couldn't bring this up now, not with Ron and Luna there. She forced a smile. "I can go," she agreed and saw Harry smile, a flash of something like relief in his eyes. "Actually, Harry, can I talk to you about something for a minute?"
"Of course," he answered immediately as she had known he would, and she turned to go into the living room of Ron's flat, leaving Ron and Luna to talk quietly. And suppressed a brief pang of envy at their obvious together-ness. If only-but no, she wouldn't allow herself to think of that.
She waited until he shut the door before she turned around to face him. "Harry, am I being an idiot or are you trying to set me up with David Lawson?"
For a moment, he could only stare at her in dismay. Oh no, oh no, oh no. This wasn't good. She was angry with him now, which he hated more than almost anything else, and he could almost see his brilliant plan (which was beginning to look less brilliant by the second) being shredded to pieces. "Er," he began, "you're never an idiot, Hermione." Right, that was a lame response, Potter, he thought sardonically.
She looked torn between anger and some hurt; there was a wounded look in her eyes that sent a sharp pain through his chest. She of all people should never have that sort of look in her eyes. "Harry, what did you think? That I'm so pitiful I need my best friend to set me up on a date because I obviously can't find a date on my own? I'm not an object of pity, Harry!" For the moment, the anger seemed to be winning out.
He flinched. "No! That's not it!" He lowered his voice, realizing how much it had risen in his earnestness. "No," he repeated more quietly. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't lonely, Hermione. I don't want you to be lonely and I thought having a boyfriend might be the best way to prevent that."
Hermione sighed, her anger gone suddenly. Dear Harry, still so considerate and yet so incredibly misguided at times… "Harry, you of all people should know that being lonely has nothing to do with the people you have around you, the number of your friends or if you're dating. Loneliness is a state of mind, not a state of being."
Harry deflated at her words, remembering all his years at Hogwarts and the loneliness he'd sometimes felt even when surrounded by people, even when he was with Ron and Hermione. She was right, as always; he of all people should have understood that dating someone wasn't a complete cure for loneliness. "You're right, Hermione," he acknowledged heavily. "I'm sorry. I only wanted you to be happy."
She smiled softly at him. "I know, Harry, and I love you for it. But please believe me when I say that I am happy as I am. I'll go with you to the match and I'll get to know this David. Just promise me you won't try to set me up again."
"I promise." He gave her a sheepish, hesitant smile. "Forgive me?"
Hermione's smile this time was her usual one, filled with affection and wry humor. "Of course, Harry. Do you even need to ask? Besides, there's nothing to forgive; you had the best intentions and only my own good at heart."
She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and left the room leaving him to stare after her.
His heart warmed as it always did at any reminder of Hermione's loyalty, the very steadfastness of her friendship. He needed it, depended on it, as the one certainty in his world that was usually so filled with doubts.
And it was no doubt only that same heart-warming knowledge of Hermione's friendship that made the spot on his cheek which her lips had brushed still tingle. That he could still feel the fleeting touch of her lips to his skin. It was only his own appreciation for that friendship that had given him the mad impulse for a second to turn his head so that her lips would touch his lips and not his cheek. It was only friendship...
He shook his head slightly, dismissing his thoughts as simply an aberration in the heat of reaction to his conversation with Hermione, his thoughts returning to what she'd said.
Loneliness is a state of mind, not a state of being.
He sighed. She was right, of course, but part of him still felt he needed to do this, needed to try, in any way he could, to keep Hermione from being lonely. He needed to do something. After all she'd done for him, to not act while she was feeling lonely, was unthinkable. He cared about her too much not to act…
His thoughts turned to David Lawson, someone he'd become friendly with while at the Ministry. Lawson worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as well, although in the Wizengamot Administrative Services section, which was how Harry had gotten to know him. He was a few years older than Harry and had attended Hogwarts for his first three years before being transferred to Beauxbatons because his father had been appointed the new Ambassador to the French Ministry of Magic. It had occurred to Harry a few times in passing that something about the way Lawson was very organized and the precise, logical way he spoke and thought reminded him of Hermione. It wasn't until the week before though that his idea had fully formed.
What if David Lawson and Hermione…? He knew Lawson was clever; he was steadily rising within the Wizengamot Administrative Services and he was certainly an extremely conscientious worker. And while Lawson wasn't the wittiest wizard he'd ever met, he did have a sense of humor. All in all, Harry rather thought that David Lawson and Hermione could do very well together.
He'd first broached the idea with Ron, when they'd met up for dinner the next day (Ron being at something of a loose end with Luna off on one of her occasional weird creature hunts).
"You know, I think I know a fellow who would suit Hermione," he'd begun at the first pause in their conversation. He watched Ron for his reaction but saw only curiosity and interest. Apparently his date with Evelyn had served at least one purpose in convincing Ron he didn't care about Hermione in that way to make him want to date her.
"Oh really? Who is he? Do I know him?"
For a moment, Harry studied Ron; there was something slightly odd, suspicious even, about Ron's sudden enthusiasm for his plan of finding Hermione a boyfriend but he dismissed the thought. This was Ron, after all, his best friend whom he'd known for so many years now.
"His name's David Lawson and he works at the Ministry with me." He'd gone on to tell Ron what he knew of Lawson and when he'd finished, Ron was nodding thoughtfully.
"Well, seems like you've thought this through a lot already, mate." Then he'd grinned and added, "But then this is for Hermione and no one but the best for our Hermione, eh, Harry?"
Harry grinned back. "Right." No one but the best for Hermione… She deserved nothing less.
"So I've got six box-seat tickets to the next match between Puddlemere United and the Kenmare Kestrels. I'm going to ask Evelyn Scott and Lawson to join you, me, Luna and Hermione. We can make it a sort of triple date," he'd suggested.
Ron had agreed readily, even eagerly. (Then again, he rather suspected Ron would have happily agreed to go watch the match with Snape, Malfoy and maybe even a Hungarian Horntail for company as long as it meant he would be there watching the final qualifying match to determine who would be playing against the Cannons for this year's League Cup- especially given this was the closest the Cannons had come to winning the League in a century.)
All had gone well (Evelyn and David having both accepted his invitation gladly) until he'd brought the idea up the next time he saw Hermione, at the dinner to welcome Luna back and hear of her adventures in search of the Winged Fromgak. Luna had agreed readily enough (with a smile at Ron whose enthusiasm was obvious). Hermione had said little, then, until they were alone when she'd confronted him.
He sighed. Thinking about it now, he supposed he should have known Hermione would see straight through his plan. She always had been able to know what he was thinking without his saying a word. This plan was no different.
He'd only thought to make her happier… He saw again the flicker of hurt in her eyes and winced. He hated knowing she was hurt by something he had done. He would rather cut off his right arm and go back to live with the Dursleys than cause her any sort of pain. But it was too late to do anything now, except resolve not to try to set Hermione up again…
~*~*~
He couldn't believe this was happening.
For the first time in his life, he couldn't concentrate on a Quidditch match.
It was an exciting match as the Kestrels and Puddlemere United were well-matched, keeping fans of both sides on the edges of their seats and requiring the referee to step in and prevent several overly-enthused fans from causing havoc with their wands by shooting fireworks off into the stands and onto the Pitch.
And yet he couldn't concentrate.
Beside him, Ron (and Luna and Evelyn) gasped, cheered and applauded with the rest of the fans. He was aware of it all on a peripheral level and stood up along with the rest of the crowd as if by rote, usually not quite sure what had happened to bring all the fans to their feet (and finding out afterwards).
The first (and second and third and…) time Puddlemere scored, he started at the roar that went up. Ron's cheer when the Kestrels scored, while not really that loud, nearly deafened him simply because he hadn't been expecting it.
At any other time and any other game, he would have thrilled when the Kestrels formed the Hawkshead Attacking Formation to finally break the tie that had existed for most of the match, bringing the score to 180-170. Or when the Seeker for Puddlemere United, Lionel Snaith, tried the Wronski Feint (which, while an impressive show of his flying ability, failed as Peter O'Neill, the Kestrels Seeker, in an equally impressive demonstration of deft flying, avoided crashing into the ground.)
But for once, none of that mattered much.
His eyes kept wandering from what was happening on the pitch to Hermione, sitting at the other end of their box, beside David, usually smiling and gesturing as they conversed animatedly. He tried but couldn't hear anything of their conversation beyond scattered words here and there, for all the noise the rest of the audience was making. Were Quidditch games always this loud? Was it necessary to constantly yell encouragements to your particular team? (He decided that there was a fortune to be made for anyone who could invent a selective Silencing Spell that would only silence the noises one didn't want to hear while allowing you to hear what one did want to hear.) Occasionally, he heard Hermione's laugh, rising above the din, followed by David's deeper chuckle. And for maybe the first time in his memory, hearing Hermione laugh didn't make him want to smile as well.
He should be happy, he told himself. He should be happy. Smug, even. This was his idea, after all; he'd been the one to think that David Lawson and Hermione would get along well. And they were. They were getting on like a house afire, to use an old Muggle expression he remembered reading somewhere. He tried and failed to remember when he'd last seen Hermione so animated while talking to someone she'd just met. While not shy, she tended to be more reserved, quieter, on first meeting people. Lawson, damn the man, had her talking and smiling and laughing as naturally as if she'd known him for years. As naturally as if, he suddenly realized with a sharp stab of surprise and something very like dismay- and could it be? jealousy? (of course not; that was absurd, preposterous in the extreme)- she were talking to him or to Ron.
His gaze narrowed as he studied Lawson. There was something almost too congenial and friendly about him, he decided. As if Lawson practiced how to make people feel at ease with him. And who ever heard of coming to a Quidditch match as someone's guest and then monopolizing that someone's best friend without paying the slightest attention to the actual game itself? That was rude and showed a lack of consideration to other people's feelings. He mentally added Courtesy and Thoughtfulness to his list of qualities required in Hermione's boyfriend.
And Lawson was too tall for Hermione. He was a full head taller than her and it required her to look up at him constantly, especially when they were seated next to each other in the box. If only for the sake of sparing her neck the strain, Hermione's boyfriend should be shorter, he decided.
He was jerked out of his thoughts when the entire stadium went up in a roar that was nearly deafening. The Kestrels' mascots, the leprechauns, were dancing around and throwing out leprechaun gold pieces with gleeful abandon. Out on the pitch, the Kestrels were swarming around Peter O'Neill, who was wildly waving one hand in which he could just see the glint of the Golden Snitch, struggling futilely to get free of O'Neill's grip. The score-board read 360-240.
He had just had time for his mind to register all this when Ron was turning to him, grinning ear to ear and cheering as loudly as Harry had ever heard him cheer for the Cannons. "Did you see that, Harry! Never seen anything like it; O'Neill just dove and then basically pulled a Starfish and Stick and caught the Snitch, almost before Snaith knew what was going on! It was absolutely bloody wicked!"
"Yeah, brilliant," Harry found himself saying and for the first time knew a moment of keen regret that he had been so preoccupied with Hermione and how well she and Lawson were getting along. To have missed such a move as that! He made up his mind to borrow Ron's omnioculars as soon as he could. He had to see what sounded like it had been a move that would go down in the annals of Quidditch as one of the best catches ever- and move Peter O'Neill forever into the ranks of history's best and most famous Seekers. (Quidditch vs. Hermione- when it came down to which was more important to him, Hermione won easily. But still, this sounded like a move not to be missed…)
Evelyn too turned to him, grinning widely, still applauding. "That was incredible, wasn't it, Harry?"
"It was," he agreed, much more heartily than was warranted by the fact that he hadn't actually seen what it happen.
Evelyn threw him a teasing glance. "You were awfully quiet during the game, though, Harry. Are you always that quiet at Quidditch matches?"
He felt himself flush uncomfortably. No, he wasn't always that quiet but at this particular match, he hadn't had any attention to spare from the suddenly annoying prospect that Hermione and David Lawson might actually begin dating. He opened his mouth to answer lightly but was spared the need to when Ron answered for him.
"Oh, of course. He's too busy analyzing every move the Seekers make to pay attention to the people around him," Ron quipped, winking at Harry.
He managed to laugh along with Ron, thankful that Ron had intervened. And then glanced at Hermione again. She and Lawson had stood up along with the rest of the audience and were applauding (without as much enthusiasm as most of the others admittedly). He saw Hermione give Lawson a bright smile, one she usually used with him, and was surprised to feel a pang of something very like- jealousy. But that was ridiculous, of course. He wasn't jealous. He couldn't be jealous. He had just decided that Lawson wasn't good enough for Hermione and he didn't like to see such a clear sign that Hermione did like Lawson.
They had already planned to go have dinner after the match. Which was, at this point, both good (he would have more time to watch Lawson and Hermione interact and hopefully find a way to somehow ensure that Lawson and Hermione didn't begin dating in earnest) and bad (he would have more time to watch Lawson and Hermione interact and the last thing he wanted at this moment was to see yet more evidence of how well they were getting along). At least, at a dinner, Lawson couldn't monopolize Hermione's attention the way he had been. He still felt that this was going to be one very long afternoon and evening.