Chapter Text
Harry chuckled when he saw the ad. He circled it with a blazing red marker, thinking that at least he knew this one was honest. Everyone else he'd met seemed to have an agenda all their own and had been nothing like their flowery, sugar-coated ads had described. Handsome and romantic had turned out to be bald and half-drunk, friendly and outgoing had been flamboyant and annoying, quiet and sincere had been dull and boring. How he ever let Hermione talk him into this was beyond all comprehension.
Speak of the devil herself, Harry thought, as she walked into the kitchen of the flat they shared.
"Find anyone interesting this morning?" she asked as she looked over his shoulder.
"Yeah. This one seems right up my alley." He held the paper up so she could read it. He'd expected the cackle.
"You're not serious, are you?"
"Maybe it's a code. You know, like opposite day or something," he answered with a grin.
Hermione laughed again, shaking her head. "You really are rather pathetic, Harry. Twenty-two, world famous, gorgeous beyond all comprehension, and yet still a blushing virgin. And I thought my life was bad. At least I have a decent sex life when I want one."
Harry groaned. "I don't want to hear about it. It's bad enough I have to hear it. Don't you remember how to do Silencing Charms?"
"What would be the fun in that?" Hermione grinned and ruffled his hair as if he were her kid brother. "Here, have some tea and answer the damn thing if you're going to." She handed him a piece of parchment and quill with his cup.
"You don't think I'll do it, do you?"
She snorted, almost spewing tea onto the parchment. "If you meet this guy, I'll stay celibate as long as you're dating. How's that for incentive?"
Harry grinned. "You have yourself a deal." He scribbled a note onto the parchment with a hasty "Call Box# 8395-14" on the front and went in search of his owl.
"I give it two days at most," she yelled to him as he bounded up the stairs.
Harry was at his desk having lunch when his owl returned.
"Wassthat?" Ron mumbled around a mouthful of roast beef sandwich.
Harry quickly unrolled the parchment and laughed.
You've got to be joking? Are you actually desperate enough to answer that ad? It was a joke, in case you'd not noticed. No one could possibly be that pathetic. But if you're honestly interested in torturing yourself batty, then by all means, I have some time to kill this weekend. Interested?
Well, at least he had a sense of humour. That was more than he could say for his last four-hundred and twenty-two dates.
"Who's it from?" Ron asked once he'd finally swallowed his mouthful of food.
"I don't know, but I have a date this weekend." Harry grinned, quickly scribbling an interoffice memo to Hermione and sending it off with the swish of his wand. "Which means I'll at least get some sleep for a few days."
Ron gave him a curious look, which quickly turned into a horrified stare. "You didn't make another bet with Hermione, did you?"
"Yep. I swear, life was so much simpler when the two of you were together. You wouldn't want to—"
"No way, mate! Been there, done that. Once was enough!"
Harry had just finished the last of his paperwork when a large owl swooped onto the pile, scattering it in every direction. "Fuck! What the hell?" The bird sneered at him and dropped a note onto his lap before swooping off again, dislodging the remaining contents of his desk as he did.
"Bloody hell," he swore as he opened the note.
It is customary to reply when one is asked on a date. Or are you one of those barbarians who doesn't know how to make plans more than three hours in advance? Because I do have a life, you know. A schedule to adhere to. Important things to be getting on with. So...
Harry laughed again. Neurotic may have been an understatement. He dipped his quill into a jar of bright red ink and gave a time and a place. He figured dinner would be a good start. The restaurant he chose was nice, but not too stuffy. Quiet, but not too romantic. Trendy, but not outlandishly so. He grinned as he sent his owl off, expecting a return note within the hour. He was rather enjoying himself already.
He'd just entered his flat when the same malicious owl screeched to a halt on the dining room table, leaving a nasty scratch that Hermione would surely rant about for days. Harry offered it the gourmet owl treat that he'd bought on his way home. Harry grinned at the owl's surprised expression as he unrolled the parchment.
Are you completely daft? There is no way in hell I'd be caught dead at the Harpy's Head! Have you no taste whatsoever? Did you not read the bloody ad? I said intelligent and charming! If you were in any way intelligent or charming you would know that the best place for a first date is the Merman's Lair. At eight o'clock, not seven. No one in their right mind would propose dinner before eight o'clock. And DON'T BE LATE!
Harry chuckled and patted the owl on the head. "I don't blame you for being grumpy if you have to deal with him every day," Harry said gently. The owl glared, but didn't bite. It was progress.
When the owl returned in the middle of dinner, Hermione raised her wand, preparing to hex the bird if it scratched the table again. He landed quietly on the back of Harry's chair. Harry unrolled the parchment and smiled.
You're not fat, are you? Because I specifically stated no fats or fems. I won't be seen about town with anyone less handsome than I am and well, actually, that's not possible, but at least almost as handsome. So if you're not, then don't waste my time. And I adore stubble, so don't shave. Okay, shave at around lunchtime. That would normally be the optimum amount of stubble growth for an eight o'clock dinner. And I did say not to be late, right? Because I appreciate punctuality. It's an important quality in a man. So ... don't be late.
Harry handed the owl another gourmet treat and asked him to wait while he procured a clean piece of parchment and penned another note that simply said, "I won't be late. You won't be disappointed." He pulled a stunningly beautiful blue rose from his bag and attached it to the note with a very complex and impressive display of magic, then sent the bird on its way.
Hermione stared at him as though he'd just been abducted by aliens. "Was that ... are you ... where did you get that rose?"
Harry's grin widened as he sat casually and began to finish his dinner. "Just a little something I picked up on the way home."
Just as Harry had made himself comfortable for the night, the not-so-ferocious owl settled onto the end of his bed. Harry picked up an owl treat from where he'd laid it on his bedside table next to a clean piece of parchment and freshly sharpened quill. "Here you go, old boy. I hope your master is as easy to tame as you were."
The owl glared at him and ruffled his feathers. Harry chuckled and picked up the note.
Thank you for the rose. It's
fucking gorgeous lovely. How very thoughtful of you. I'm looking forward to snogging you until you can't think straight thanking you in person. Oh, and I hope you don't think me too forward, but, well, it's always good to know, you know ... just to know. You're a top, right? You're more of the masculine sort, right? I do so love to have a strong masculine body on top of me with a strong masculine cock in my the masculine sort.
Harry was starting to realise he was smiling before he even read the notes. He picked up his quill and wrote once again, "You won't be disappointed." He watched the owl fly away before extinguishing the lights, and for the first time in his entire life, he wasn't worried about a first date.
TBC