Seeing Blind - Ch. 1
Summary: After years of wasting their time, Harry and Hermione make a promise to swear off blind dates, forever this time. A pair of meddling friends are determined to change their minds -- and help them see each other in a different light.
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It was Friday night, and Hermione was sitting on her couch in her favorite holey pajamas, reading the latest copy of Potioneers Monthly. It had become a bit of a habit for her. She came home from her job in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, changed into her most comfortable clothes, and settled in with the newest academic publication that caught her eye. Part of her thought it was a bit sad, really, but it beat the alternative. Hermione was single, and she had zero faith in the current dating scene. She occasionally let a friend set her up with someone, but that rarely ended well. So sheâd created her own weekend rituals, things to keep her mind busy and her heart content. Well, content enough.
She was engrossed in an article about the mutable properties of lacewing flies when her Floo roared to life.
âShitâHermione?â a frantic voice hissed through the flames. âHermione? Are you still awake?â
She dashed across the room and crashed to her knees in front of the fireplace. âWhatâs wrong, Harry?â
Even blurred by the embers, she could tell his responding grin was a bit sheepish. âUh, nothingâs wrong, not really. I was just wondering if you were awake, and I didnât realize what time it was until after Iâd already started the call, and I didnât want to wake you if youâd already gone to bedââ
âLet me rephrase then: Whatâs going on, Harry?â she asked, unamused.
His smile twisted into a grimace. âWould you mind coming over for a little while? I had a shit night, and I donât want to end the day that way.â
âOf course,â she said immediately. âIâll be there in five minutes.â
Hermione quickly changed into more presentable loungewear and Apparated to the living room of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Harry was sprawled across the warm leather sofa, his tie hanging loose around his neck. His shoes had been toed off and allowed to fall haphazardly beneath him, and his dark hair stuck up at all angles, as though a hand had been run through it many times. The image was a bit forlorn but not unfamiliar to Hermione. The open bottle of firewhiskey on the table and the empty tumbler dangling from his fingers, however, sent her eyebrows rocketing upward. âIt really was a shit night, huh?â
âShit week, really.â Harry grunted as he sat up. âI had a rough few days revising with this Auror class. Theyâve got a Stealth final next week, then a few more tests before the final practical exam. Ron thought he was helping ârelieve some of my stressâ by setting me up on a blind date.â
Hermione groaned and collapsed on the sofa with him. âNot Ron and his blind dates. You know, last time he set me up with a reserve Beater for the Arrows. The guy never took his eyes off my chestânot once the whole night!â
âThis girl wasnât any better,â Harry lamented. âShe kept dropping little hints, asking all these probing questions about my investment portfolio, the Potter estate, âwonderingâ how big the diamonds in my cufflinks were.â He allowed himself a little chuckle. âYou should have seen the way she snatched her hand back when I told her they were fake.â
âBut theyâre not,â Hermione said with a frown. âI bought you those last year for your birthday.â
Harry shrugged. âI know that, and you know that. But I wanted to see how she would react. She practically ran out the door after she finished her glass of wine.â
âGod, where does Ron meet these girls?â
âI guess thatâs Quidditch fangirls for you. On the bright side, at least I didnât have to suffer through dessert, too.â
Hermione threw her head back and laughed. âI think I can take care of that one. Want to put on a movie and eat ice cream straight from the carton?â
Harry grinned. âMost definitely. How would you feel about The Maltese Falcon?â
She stood up and headed for the kitchen. âThat sounds perfect. You go upstairs and change, and Iâll grab the ice cream.â
Hermione was popping the DVD into place when Harry came back into the living room, clad in comfortable sweats and carrying a thick blanket. âDid you remember to get two spoons?â
She grabbed the pair of spoons from on top of the carton beside her and waved them at him.
âStupid question,â he muttered, settling under the blanket and then lifting it to let her crawl under too.
Hermione passed him a spoon and then clinked her own against it. âHereâs to dumping a crappy blind date for Bogart and Butter Pecan.â
âUgh, you picked this flavor, didnât you?â
âI won the coin toss!â
âYou always win the coin toss,â he grumbled, popping the lid off the carton anyway. âAnd Iâm quitting blind dates. For good.â
Hermione rolled her eyes. âYou said that last time, and the time before that, and the time before that. So did I.â
âAnd look where thatâs gotten us!â he cried.
She tilted her head in capitulationâshe never wanted a repeat of her last blind date.
Harry sighed deeply. âIâm perfectly content with my life as it is. I donât need to go on a date just for the sake of going on a date. Next time, I want it to be because I like the person. I want to go out knowing thereâs a good chance Iâll enjoy myself.â
âYouâre right,â Hermione said, sitting up straight. âWhy should we continue to subject ourselves to hours of sub-par social interaction for the sole purpose of going on a date? Weâre perfectly fine as single people.â
âHear hear!â
She held up her utensil as if it were a champagne flute. âHereâs to the end of crappy blind dates.â
They clinked their spoons together and tucked into the slightly melted tub of ice cream.
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