"Hello?" Hermione said, looking at the frosted divider as though she could see through it. 

Her first allocated date was with Potential Suitor #7. Avril had cheerily led her to the room in which her date would take place, and wished her the very best of luck before practically pushing her through the door. Hermione was a little perturbed by Avril. She didn't trust people who were always smiling. In fact she often gloomily wondered what, about this whole situation, there was to be smiling about. As Ron would say, Avril was "completely mental", and Hermione was forced to agree. She seemed to have no idea how inappropriate and demeaning the Marriage Law was, despite reportedly having found her husband in the service. 

Hermione couldn't decide whether Avril really was that dense, or whether, like Dolores Umbridge, there was a hint of darkness behind her sickly sweet exterior. She couldn't help but wonder who exactly in The Ministry was training these people.

"Ah, I see we're not as shy today." Said an annoyingly smug voice that could only belong to #7. 

"Good morning to you too." Hermione scoffed. "And thank you, I suppose. For choosing me."

The man laughed humourlessly. "There's no need to thank me. You clearly made an impression the last time we met."

"A good impression?"

Silence. 

"Wow." Hermione was stunned, and quite frankly ready to stand up and leave. 

"No! Wait!" The man seemed unable to hold back his laughter. "I'm only teasing. Of course it was a good impression."

She breathed an audible sigh of relief, the corners of her mouth twitching up into a smile. "Indulge me. Why exactly did you pick me? You obviously know who I am."

The man hummed. "You surprised me. You were far more genuine and honest than the other women. I've never spoken to you without your two idiotic friends before, you intrigued me." 

"Don't call my friends idiotic." Hermione snapped. 

"I'm sorry." He said. "It's true though. You're much more relaxed when you're without them." 

Hermione admitted. "I don't feel relaxed. Yesterday, I had to narrow down my list of potential husbands to 3, having only briefly met all of them, and I have no idea if I've made the right decision." 

"I know. I get it." Elligible Bachelor #7 said hastily. "But, had we crossed paths naturally, do you really think we would be on a date right now?" The man asked. 

"Having met you before? Probably not."

 "See? Why don't we just forget about this whole situation for a moment, and pretend that we're dating the old fashioned way." 

Hermione willed herself to calm down. "What do you suggest?"

"Imagine we're in a bar. We're complete strangers, and I've just bought you a drink and introduced myself. What's the first thing you would ask me?" The man said. 

"You want to play pretend?" Hermione asked. 

"Well I'd much rather tell everyone that I met my wife in a bar, than via the Ministry Dating service." 

"What kind of bar?"

"A sophisticated one. You'd be sat on a stool, staring into your nearly-empty drink, and I'd come over and buy you another one. We'd get to know each other, right up until closing time, and I'd suggest another date." 

Hermione thought for a second. She wondered how many women he had met this way, but decided she probably wouldn't like the answer if she asked. Instead, she pictured herself alone, perched on a bar stool, cradling a glass of wine. Hermione imagined being approached by Mystery Man #7. She had guessed his identity straight away. She didn't have to create a face that matched his voice. She knew exactly what he looked like. "What brings you here?" 

"I'm here because of an inescpabale prior commitment." He replied. "How about you?" 

"The same." She said. "You wouldn't believe how boring it's been." 

"I think I can probably guess." The man said. "At a risk of sounding cliche, what's a pretty girl like you doing sat all alone in a bar?" 

Hermione snorted, breaking the illusion. "You think I'm pretty?" 

The man groaned from behind the frosted glass. "You are pretty. Beautiful, in fact. Now, I believe I asked a question?" 

Hermione blushed, unable to get over the fact that Eligible Bachelor #7 thought she was beautiful. That was incredibly out of character for the man whom she thought she knew. "There is no one I wanted to be with."

"Me neither." The man said flirtaciously. "Perhaps we could be alone together?" 

"Thats an oxymoron." Hermione stated. 

Bachelor #7 laughed. "You're ruining the fantasy." 

"Ok! I'll try to stay in character!" Hermione found herself smiling. "What exactly do you do for a living?" 

It was a white-lie question. Hermione knew precisely what occupation the man behind the screen held, partly because he too headlined The Daily Propet on occasion. Her best friends seemed to have frequent awkward run-ins with the man, in addition. Harry and Ron often moaned about the Deputy Head of their department, in the same way they did when the 3 were at school together. She didn't mention it to Bachelor #7, though. 

The man replied. "I work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I'm the Deputy Head of The Department, actually."

Hermione couldn't resist. "And who did you have to bribe to get you that position?"

"I earned it! I studied 3 years of magical law at Oxford, I'll have you know! I got promoted after 3 months of joining. A lot of women would find that impressive." The man defended, although there was humour in his voice. 

"I suppose you'll have to try harder than that." Hermione teased. 

"What is it you do, exactly?" The man countered. 

She bit her lip. "Im a Junior Unspeakable."

"That is impressive." The man seemed a little startled. "I heard their interview process is impossible."

Hermione looked a little sheepish. "It was incredibly difficult. But when you begin to learn more about the job role, you understand why they are so strict with their applications. Of course, I can't really tell you any more about what I actually do." 

The man didn't pry further. "Lets change the subject to something you can actually talk about, then. What do you do when you're not at work?" 

Hermione sighed. "Surely you don't want to hear about all that? I'm boring!" 

Eliigable Bachelor #7 seemed to disagree. "Well I happen to like boring. Tell me." 

"I live alone. I drink wine. I read books. I eat takeout most days of the week because I can't cook to save my life. I occasionally see my overbearing friends, but it's always uncomfortable because they're all married, and I'm still single." Hermione said, feeling her embarrassment increase. 

"What do you mean you can't cook? I thought that everyone could cook?" The man asked, astonished. 

"I am a disaster in the kitchen." She blushed. 

He didn't seem to understand. "I grew up in a Manor with house elves, and even I know how to cook! Didn't your parents teach you?"

"I know how to prepare a meal in theory, but it never quite works in practice. Like riding a broom. I can't fly either."

The man laughed. "Believe me, I remember."

"Shove off." Hermione began to laugh with him. "There must be something you can't do?"

His laughter tapered off, and Hermione caught a hint of shame. "I can't tie shoelaces." 

She tried to hold back her snort, she really did. It didn't work though. "Seriously?" 

He made a noise in agreement. "I was always helped to dress by house elves when I was a child. Of course, they use magic. I've tried to teach myself how to do it manually. But I still can't do it." 

Hermione pitied him. "It sounds like your parents weren't too involved with your upbringing." 

The man audibly shuffled. Although she couldn't see him, Hermione imagined the anxious frown on his face. During their sixth year, her companion had adopted an increasingly nervous disposition, in which said frown was permanently etched on his countenance. She wondered whether The War had erased the frown, or whether it was a permanent battle scar. 

 "My parents were almost too involved in some aspects of my upbringing. In particular my education. My father made sure that I had the best tutors before I attended Hogwarts. I was schooled from the age of 4. He always tailored my curriculum to what he thought was most important. He even arranged private flying lessons with one of the Ex-Captains of the England Quidditch team. My mother was kind, and nurturing. She always read books to me, real children's books, unlike the ones my father wanted me to read.

"Neither of them were particularly involved in the "messy" part of raising a child. That was all carried out by the house elves. They bathed me and dressed me. They tended to me when I was sick. Until I was 10 years old, I wasn't allowed to eat at the dinner table with my parents. I would have to eat upstairs, alone. When my parents had parties, I would be forced to stay out of sight."

Hermione's heart broke a little. "It all sounds rather lonely."

"I have always wanted a sibling." The man said, quietly. "My mother told me when I was older that her and father had tried for years, to give me a younger brother or sister, but with no success." 

"Im sorry." Hermione tried to soothe.

"It's not your fault." He sighed. "I hardly knew how to act around other children when I arrived at Hogwarts. I had only seen how my parents acted around other adults. As you well know, my parents were not the best role models. It doesn't excuse my behaviour though." 

"That was years ago. We all said things that were unexcusable. We're adults now, and we can start to build new relationships." Hermione said. There was a pregnant pause. "Besides, I thought we were pretending to be strangers?"

The man cleared his throat, and said in a brighter voice. "Of course, my apologies. Where were we?"

Hermione felt her pity transform into excitement. "I think that my imaginatory glass is beginning to look rather empty." She said with a smirk. 

The man seemed spurred on by her flirtatious tone. "Well, I suppose I should offer you another drink?" 

"I accept your offer." Hermione said. 

Bachelor #7 snorted. "You're not going to argue that you can afford to buy your own drinks?" 

"If i've learnt anything, it would be that free drinks don't come around very often. Therefore it's wise to accept them when they are being offered." She replied diplomatically. "But ordinarily, I believe that husband and wife should make equal financial contributions."

"That's refreshing." The man said. "Is that a muggle belief? Or just your own standard?"

Examining the wizarding families she had met, her companion was correct. The husband was often the breadwinner of the family while the wife remained at home to look after the children. She considered that it was convenient, that the muggle schooling system in the UK meant that children could go to school from the age of 4 (or even earlier if the parents could afford nursery school). Therefore, double income families were considerably more feasible than they would be in the Wizarding world. Not everyone had house elves to raise them. 

When Hermione had asked Ron about his upbringing, it seemed that he had had unimaginable freedom until the age of 11, when he was forced to attend Hogwarts. His only "schooling" prior to then, had been basic literacy and mathematics, taught by Molly and/or his older siblings. It was considerably different to what Hermione had received. She recalled being forced to sit her SAT's when she was in her final year of primary school, to ensure that she secured herself a place in the best high school in her area. Ron had been horrified at this development, but at least Harry had been sympathetic. 

She explained all of this to Mystery Man #7, who seemed equally shocked. "Don't you think that's rather cruel? Forcing 4 year olds to be apart from their parents? Is it not the duty of the parents to teach their children?"

Hermione defended her upbringing. "You only really learn the alphabet and how to count at that age. They don't expect you to start writing essays. Mostly, primary school is about interacting with other children and learning social dynamics. Plus, your parents are still expected to teach you things outside of school, like the basics of life. How to cross a road, and so on." 

"There must be side effects of being separated from your parents?" He asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Hermione hummed. "I guess most children do get homesick at first, but school becomes a positive place, so it wears off. I imagine its awful for wizarding children, to turn 11 and suddenly be shipped off to boarding school?"

"You have no idea." He muttered, his change in tone hinting that it was a topic he would rather leave undiscussed. 

He coughed awkwardly. "What shocked you the most about wizarding society? Aside from learning that you could practice magic, of course."

"Everything is just so old fashioned." Hermione said. "Obviously, I've studied Magical History and understand that people who have practiced magic in the past were attacked, and so wizardkind were forced into hiding. But I believe that things have changed. There are plenty of muggle books, and TV shows and films that portray fantasy beings; werewolves, vampires and such. I don't believe that muggles would attack, should we reveal ourselves. I know there is far more to it than that, and everybody has their own reasons for wanting to hide. 

"But I believe that some members of The Ministry possess such an irrational fear of muggles, that they force themselves further into hiding. Which is mad, because the muggle society is now far more advanced! Yet people, not to target anyone in particular, still believe muggles to be the inferior race. Wizardkind has almost become its own enemy." 

The man seemed shocked into silence. She had forgotten whom she had been talking to. Hermione felt a wave of dread embrace her. She had ruined the date entirely, didn't she? There was an awkward pause that seemed to last an eternity. 

Hermione was unable to stop the verbal diarrhea that poured out of her mouth. "I didn't mean to offend, but you asked my opinion. I can't help it if you don't agree with me. I don't-"

"It's okay." Eligable Bachelor #7 interrupted. "You haven't offended me. I'm certainly not mad at you for having an opinion." 

"You're not?" 

"I told you I wanted an intelligent wife. I had just forgotten quite how intelligent you are. You're rather attractive when you're passionate about something."

Hermione blushed. "You can't even see me." she reminded him. 

"I don't have to." He said, lowering his voice.

 It was odd, to be attracted to someone she had grown up hating. Hermione grimaced. What would Harry and Ron think if she suddenly announced that she was going to marry their former enemy. Hermione told herself that she wouldn't allow her friend's opinions to affect her future. She forced that annoying little anxious voice inside her head to quiet itself. 

She was venturing into dangerous territory. The casual flirting had been alright. She had expected it. But now he was seemingly admitting his attraction towards her. After only two dates! She was reminded of the fact that in a few short weeks, she could be married to this man for the rest of her life. Was the attraction mutual? Definitely. But did she feel like it was strong enough to marry him? Not yet. 

Hermione fiddled with a strand of her hair, unsure of what to say. Mercifully, there was the ringing of a bell, indicating that their time had run out. Hermione let out an audible sigh of relief. Merlin! She hoped he hadn't heard that. 

"Hermione?" The man's voice called out, sounding uncharacteristically timid.

"Yeah?"

"I'm not good at admitting my feelings... But I really enjoyed our date." He surprised her. 

"I enjoyed it too." She said, softly. 

He seemed encouraged by this. "I'd understand if you don't want to choose me, though. No hard feelings."

"Likewise." She said, before promptly exiting the room. 

____

Hermione had disillusioned herself, in order to shield herself from the view of any curious on-lookers. She stood on the bank of the Thames in Westminister, not far from the street entrance to The Ministry of Magic. She hastily wiped her tears on the sleeve of her jacket and forced herself to catch her breath. 

She had bolted from the Ministry, far too overwhelmed by her feelings to stop to chat to Katie or anybody else. Hermione had desperately needed to get out of the underground establishment, and into the fresh January air.  It was cold, her cheeks were reddened by the wind coming off of the river. Despite the briskness, there were still tourists pointing cameras at the nearby London Eye or Westminister Bridge. Hermione was glad they couldn't see the state she was in.

Her tears were uncontrollable. She was angry at The Ministry, for forcing her to marry at the age of 20. She was angry at her fellow Witches and Wizards for their compliance with the new law. There had been protests, do not mistake her. But there should have been riots! The magnitude of the situation was unprecedented. She didn't understand why more people weren't as enraged as she was. 

Most of all, Hermione was furious with herself. She had convinced herself that she would remain impersonal with her dates - she wouldn't get invested. Here she was, blushing and giggling after the first attempt. She would not admit that the service worked. She would not allow herself to be proven wrong. Hermione Granger didn't want to be added to the list of "successful" Ministry guided "love matches", when she had tried so damned hard to get the law revoked. 

There was the very real possibility that she could be happy with Bachelor #7.

What about the other men? With two dates outstanding, would the other men make her feel nauseatingly special too? Merlin. Hermione genuinely hoped that the next couple of days would be awful, just to soften what was already shaping up to be a pretty life altering blow.