Full disclaimer. I don't speak French and I have never studied it. The French parts are generated purely by Google Translate. 

Having been forced into an unfamiliar, and potentially hostile environment, Hermione decided to stick to what she was comfortable with. She intended to approach the "speed dating" round of the MaPS dating service, as though she was conducting research for a study. Hermione reassured herself, that today would be nothing more than a quick dissection of character. Although she would eventually have to evaluate her findings and come to a reluctant conclusion, Hermione found her method much easier to deal with than the unfamiliar notion of "speed dating." She had even concealed her trusty notebook and quill in her bag, ready to record her findings.

Following their briefing from Avril, Hermione, Katie and the other women were led into a corridor that was lined with boring brown doors. It was much like the corridors Hermione had navigated, down in the Department of Mysteries, however what was behind these doors was infinitely more terrifying. Each door was numbered, and led to a room which contained a potential male suitor, whom Hermione assumed had been disguised to keep his identity hidden.  

Steadying herself, Hermione took a deep breath, feeling her anxieties from earlier resurface. What was she doing here? Why didn't she just flee the country, like many witches and wizards her age had after the passing of the Act?  She could have stayed in France and concealed herself from The Ministry. She could have gone to Australia, and found her parents, and a strapping Aussie bloke to match. In a worst case scenario, Hermione could have abandoned magical society altogether, and lived the rest of her life posing as a muggle. In reality, it was all so much more complicated than just abandoning her home. 

As cliche as it sounded, Hermione's whole life was in the UK. Her parents had forgotten about their know-it-all magical daughter, and lived happily in Melbourne as dentists. It had been a tough decision to obliviate them, but the right decision after Lord Voldemort had begun targeting muggles during the war. Her only remaining family were Harry and Ron, and the rest of the Weasley's. She didn't think she could survive a week without them. 

The overwhelming irony was, that the Postwar Population Planning Act was supposed to be an incentive for the magical youth to start their own families. The thought of having children at the age of 20 (providing she did manage to find a match) made Hermione feel uncontrollably nauseous. 

Taking a deep breath, Hermione opened the door that Avril had assigned her. What would Eligible Bachelor #8 be like? 

The room itself was rather plain and small. The walls were dark, the only light coming from a soft lamp in the corner. There was a sleek, leather two-seated sofa that took up most of the floor space inside of the room. The wall opposite the sofa was made out of opaque frosted glass. Hermione could see the blurred outline of an individual, who appeared to be sat on a similar couch in an adjoining room. 

"Hello?" said a deep voice. It sounded clear, as though the man was sat right next to her. 

Hermione sat down on the couch and opened her notebook. "Hi?" 

Let the experiment begin, she mused. 

____

Over the course of the next 5 days, Hermione had met and "dated" all 12 potential suitors that the Ministry had selected. While she would argue that none of the dates had gone horrifically, Hermione was of the opinion that some of the men were very ill-suited to her personality. It was clear, also, that not all of the candidates were blushing seventeen year-old virgins. In fact, she was glad to have discovered that some of the suitors were older than her. All of them had been pleasant, polite, and even a little awkward at times. It was not at all the stifling display of testosterone-fueled showboating that Hermione had expected.

Overall, it had been a rather humbling experience. Naturally some of the dates had been more successful than others. Hermione's first hint of a genuine connection arrived on the second day, with Eligible Bachelor #11. 

"How is your Ministry mandated dating experience going so far? Is it everything you dreamed it would be?" The man joked. His voice piqued Hermione's curiosity. There was a slight hint of an accent. It sounded oddly familiar, but she couldn't place where she had heard it before.

"It's certainly been insightful." Hermione chuckled. "It's strange, talking to people and not knowing what they look like." 

"I'll bet every bloke has told you that he's 6ft 3 and ripped?" 

Hermione nodded, forgetting that the man couldn't see her. "I've heard that once or twice."

"Trust me, I've met all of the other guys and not one of them meets that description." The man assured her. 

"What about you?" She asked, taking the bait. 

Surprisingly, few of the male candidates had asked Hermione about her physical appearance. From her point of view, it seemed silly to ask her suitor to describe what he looked like, as it defied the point. The Ministry, it seemed, were a bunch of terribly misguided hopeless romantics. The whole purpose of this masochistic charade was to make a love match, based on personality. As if it would somehow satiate the public, by allowing them to have a perceived element of choice. Besides, there was no guarantee that the men (or women) wouldn't falsify their self-descriptions. 

"Oh i'm 7ft 3." The man said without missing a beat. 

Hermione snorted. "So, are you part giant? or grossly over-compensating for something?" 

The man gave a loud and genuine laugh. Hermione felt a small flutter in her stomach. She enjoyed a man with whom she could laugh but found it difficult to find a man who knew when it was appropriate to stop joking. Harry and Ron had been a prime example, during their teenage years. 

"I think i'll leave some mystery and decline to answer that question." The man teased. 

Glad that the ice was most definitely broken, Hermione felt comfortable enough to begin gently prying into the man's life. "So, where are you from? You must be British for the Law to apply, but you have a slight accent that I can't place." 

"I am British." confirmed the man, with a hint of mystery to his voice. "I left the UK when I graduated from Hogwarts. I've been travelling around Europe for work ever since." 

"Interesting." Hermione murmured, scribbling down her findings in her notebook. "Where have you been to?" 

"I've lived in Hungary, Romania, Czechia and France." He listed. "I suppose I've just picked up a bit of a continental accent." 

"La France est un pays où il fait bon vivre, non? J'ai étudié pendant 3 ans à l'université française." Hermione flaunted. 

"Oui, la France est belle." Bachelor #11 agreed. "alors tu es drôle et intelligent?" 

"If you say so." Hermione muttered shyly, feeling herself blush. "Why did you come back to England? Surely you must have known about the marriage law?" 

The man seemed unperturbed by her swift change of subject. "I did know about the law. Honestly, I returned because of my family. So much has happened since I went travelling. I had two baby nieces I hadn't met, so I eventually gave into my mum's nagging and came home. I live with my older brother now though, I don't think I could cope living with my parents again." 

Hermione smiled. "Your family must be important to you then?" 

"Of course." He answered. "What about you? Do you have a big family?"

She had generally managed to avoid the topic of her family up until this point. Hermione thought about how to answer for a second. If Eligible Bachelor #11 turned out to be the man for her, then Hermione would have to explain her family situation, regardless. Given that he was the only man she had met thus far who seemed remotely interesting, she took the leap. 

"I lost my parents a few years ago." Hermione said quietly, hoping that the man wouldn't hear her and she would have a chance to change her answer.

He sighed. "Merlin, I'm sorry." 

"It's ok. I'm Muggleborn, so pretty much as soon as I started Hogwarts, one of my friend's family took me in and have sort of been like my surrogate magical parents. When I lost my actual parents, my friend's family really helped me out. It almost softened the blow." Hermione admitted. 

"You must still miss your parents, though." The man said, sympathetically. 

"Everyday." Hermione confirmed. "Wow, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring the mood down. You seem pretty easy to talk to." 

The man chuckled. "It's no problem at all. I think you're easy to talk to as well."

____

Following her successful date with Potential Suitor #11, Hermione seemed to have hit a rather solid brick wall. She had spent most of the week making inane small talk with a bunch of men who were either too interested, or not at all interested in what she had to say. There hadn't been a whiff of intelligent conversation since Tuesday, and she was beginning to feel like her brain would melt away and pour out of her ears. Her faith in the male side of the population was rapidly depleting, and Hermione was feeling more and more hopeless as the week progressed.  

She was striven to find someone who was forgivable at best. Even so, it was almost the end of the first stage of the programme, and only one man seemed even remotely suitable. Eligible Bachelor #11 stayed firmly at the top of her list. It was terrifying to think that her choices were so limited (if not a little non-existent). 

Hermione couldn't imagine even considering a future with Mystery Man #1 (her latest date), who seemed far more interested in discussing his own medical history than he was anything remotely relating to Hermione. 

"Do you like food? I do, of course. Who doesn't? But I have to be careful. I'm allergic to lactose and Gluten. If I eat any kind of nut my tongue swells up like a balloon. I can't eat seafood either. Doesn't really leave me with a lot of options." He listed, as though it was some kind of feat to have multiple life-threatening allergies. 

"Really?" Hermione had asked, not even bothering to sound interested. 

"I have severe hayfever too, even in the winter. I can't touch any kind of fur. I break out in hives. You don't have any animals, do you?" The man continued. 

Hermione smirked. "I have six cats."

"No wonder I've been feeling itchy. Even though we're in separate rooms, I can still sense the fur on your clothing." The man sounded increasingly more concerned by the second. "I don't think this is going to work out between us."

Hermione, in fact, did not have any cats. Crookshanks had passed away before she had left for university, and she didn't have it in her heart to replace him. 

"I don't think so either." She agreed, unable to hide her relief. 

____

By the time Friday had arrived, Hermione had almost completely depleted her social battery. Her morning had started really rather dismally, and her expectations had hit rock bottom. Hermione Granger had never failed at anything. She was a chronic over-achiever, and had worked incredibly hard to receive her impeccable school grades. She was a typical Gryffindor; she went heart-first into every argument, often acted rashly, and she stood up for what she believed in. The marriage law had stamped all of Hermione's determination out of her. It was an argument she was never going to win. It was looking increasingly likely that she was going to fail the MaPS programme, something that Hermione was having a hard time dealing with.

Feeling completely disheartened and disillusioned, Hermione attended her first date on Friday morning. She slumped down onto the sofa, ready to spend another half-hour bathed in disappointment, only to be pleasantly surprised.  

"Hello?" said a rich, velvety voice.

Hermione gasped in surprise, he sounded a lot older than she did. "Hello?"

"Are you quite alright?" The man almost sounded bored. There was no actual concern for her well-being.

"I'm s-sorry." Hermione stuttered. "Your voice, I wasn't expecting it to be quite so... deep."

The man snorted. "I'm sure that says more about the my peers than it does for me. I Imagine you were hoping for someone younger? Maybe closer to your own age?"

He sounded like a man who was tired of socializing, who just wanted to be left alone. Hermione could sympathize with that. "Physical age is not something I am particular about. Maturity is essential. It's just a shame that most men who are closer to my own age are disappointingly juvenile."

"I assure you, I am very mature. Most unfortunately, that applies to the physical sense as well as the mental sense." Bachelor #4 purred. "I suspect you are older than the rest of the women?"

Hermione couldn't believe the decadence of his voice. It sent goosebumps across her flesh. She tried desperately not to think of how much it reminded her of a certain Potions Professor who had tormented her during her years at Hogwarts. But Professor Snape's voice was not as baritone as this man's. She hadn't seen Snape in years. She wasn't even sure he had remained in the country. Perhaps this man was a relative? A younger, (hopefully) very distant cousin? 

"I am." Hermione confirmed.

"Do you work?" The man asked. 

"I work in the Department of Mysteries." Hermione said, almost bragging. 

"Ahh you're an Unspeakable." He sounded a little smug.

Hermione was ignorant to her own smile. "There are a lot of job roles in The Department. But yes, you are correct, I am a Junior Unspeakable."

"What did you study for your Mastery?" The man asked. 

"Arithmancy, at Sorbonne."

He hummed, Hermione could almost hear the smirk in his voice. "Admirable. I was never much of an Arithamancer. I have a Mastery in Potions from Oxford."

Hermione's quill stopped abruptly on her parchment and her heart stopped, her smile turning into a frown. Hermione was glad that the man was sat in another room, behind an opaque pane of glass. She was an open book after all. The image of her former Potion's Professor imprinted on her mind's eye. Surely there were a lot of men who had Mastery's in Potions? Severus Snape was most certainly not the only Potions Master in Britain. It had to be coincidence. 

"Do you work for The Ministry?" Hermione tried to sound unperturbed, but it wasn't that convincing. "Or do you teach?" 

"I own a private company." He said. "I supply Potion's to various vendors across the country. I often brew for St Mungoes, and the Ministry of Magic."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't a teacher. "That sounds rather time consuming."

"I enjoy my work." The man said, shortly. "I do a little research on the side to keep things interesting."

"Have you ever published?" Hermione asked, anxiously. She was already, mentally rifling through her Potion's magazines and books, trying to guess this man's identity. 

He chuckled, a low sound that made Hermione's ovaries quiver. "I have. But I'm not telling you exactly what, in case you have a few copies of Potions Monthly lying around at home."

"Spoilsport!" Hermione laughed. 

"Where's the fun in learning my identity?" He asked. "Curiosity killed the cat, after all."

"It's just so tempting to try and figure out the puzzle." Hermione said. 

The man remained silent for a second. "And what if you don't like the answer?" He said elusively. 

"What if you don't like mine?" She countered. 

____

Following her date with Single Man #4, Hermione was left feeling intrigued and a little confused. She had added this candidate to her list, only because she wanted to know more about him. He seemed to be incredibly clever, something that really stood out for Hermione. His bluntness and dour composure, she suspected, was a mask to conceal something that was much more complex. He was older, but she wasn't sure if he was too old. It would be hard to tell for sure, until she actually met the bloke. He seemed to enjoy teasing her in that amazingly delicious voice of his. It was a rather intoxicating combination. 

Hermione entered room #7, still distracted by the man she had met prior. Her thoughts were terminated, when she was greeted by a very familiar voice.

"Hello there." He said. There was no mistaking his identity. 

She wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear forever. 

"Hello?" He called out again, waiting for an answer. 

Hermione took a deep breath. "Hi. I apologize. I'm sure what came over me." 

There was another awkward pause. Hermione suspected that Eligible Bachelor #7 had, in turn, recognized her voice.

"Not at all." He smoothed. "I completely understand. Its a nerve wracking experience, meeting one's potential future spouse for the first time." 

Much to Hermione's relief, the man appeared to understand the complexity of the situation. Of course, he had always been rather intelligent. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement, to pretend that they hadn't spent their formative years at each other's throats. She felt her horror dissipate slightly, although it didn't entirely disappear. 

"What exactly are you looking for?" Hermione asked, her inquisitiveness once again pushing the boundaries to the limit. 

"What a question to ask!" The man laughed. "Have you interrogated all of the men you've dated this week?" 

Hermione giggled. "That was a little bold of me. I think that after meeting so many people in such a short space of time, its refreshing to just cut the crap. Get down to business." 

"I suppose you're right." He said, unable to argue with her. "It's only fair that you have to answer the same question."

"Deal." She said, trying to push away her previously opinion of the man. 

He hummed. "I'm looking for somebody who is open minded, that is essential. Someone who values family as much as I do. I would prefer that she is smart, because I enjoy intelligent conversation. I would like to be with someone who has a sense of humor too, and someone who is as competitive as I am." 

Hermione bit her lip. "I think you might have a hard time finding someone who meets your full criteria." 

"Not really." He said, wistfully. "I just have to find the perfect woman." 

"If only it were easy." Hermione laughed cynically. 

The man seemed amused. "You don't believe in true love? Tell me, what are you looking for?" 

She faltered. "I never said it don't believe in true love. I just don't think I'm going to find it here. I just want a man whom I tolerate." 

"That's bullshit. At least I was honest with you. Tell me what you really want." The man pushed.

"I too, value intelligence. I would like a man who's not threatened by me, and who won't hold me back from my career. I want someone whom I can have a laugh with, and of course, someone who will prioritize our family." Hermione admitted. 

"See? That wasn't so hard. Was it?" He flirted.

"Shut up." She laughed. 

The man seemed a more than capable match for Hermione. "When, in the history of people telling one another to 'shut up', has anyone ever 'shutted up' after being told to do so?" 

"There's a first time for everything." Hermione couldn't hide her grin. 

"Today's not the day, I'm afraid."