A Whole Lot Of Capitals - AKA The Potter Problem Project - Drarry

In Which Hermione is Done™

The woman's name was Alicia Baldwin and according to Ron, she'd answered every question the way Harry's ideal partner would. The only problem was that Alicia was a gold medal-winning ballroom dancer. The good news was that his reputation for being a terrible dancer had been mostly kept out of the papers. She wanted a partner who could dance and that was perfectly reasonable, but Harry couldn't. Yet. He was half-convinced Ron had done this to mess with him.

He agreed to go to a function he'd been putting off RSVPing to for months now, the Auror's Annual March Ball, and invited Alicia to go with him. Now he had a date and he just had to learn to dance. In 10 days.

His Floo lit up as he was practicing and Ron came through.

"Well, this takes me back."

"If you aren't here to help, bugger off. I have to learn these moves before the Auror's Ball."

"Harry," Ron started, taking his hands and assuming the male dance position despite Harry's complaints, "you'll never learn in 9 days, you're a hopeless case and you always have been." Ron spun him around in a circle and Harry tripped over his foot.

"This isn't helping."

"I thought maybe it'd give you some perspective."

Harry sighed and Ron let their arms drop.

"Why'd you lie to me about the Malfoy thing? He didn't know about the problem."

"Oh... are you angry?"

"Not really, I just want to know why."

"Well it was a misunderstanding at first and I thought it'd be funny to watch you put your foot in your mouth a bit. Then, Hermione kept saying how much fun you two were having. I thought maybe there was something you weren't telling us about why it was so hard for you to find a wife."

"What do you mean?"

"You know just... your fascination with Malfoy could also be looked at as..." Ron gestured but that didn't help.

"As?"

"Attraction! Merlin, Mione said you'd be oblivious but I thought-"

"I'm not gay."

Ron put his hands up in surrender. "I hear ya mate. It'd be fine if you were, though. You know that, right?

Harry scoffed. It'd be fine, would it? God, he could just imagine the reactions now. "Fine for who, the Prophet? My leagues of adoring fans? You and Hermione might be fine with it but no one else would be."

"Mate..." Ron put his hand on Harry's shoulder and he knocked it off.

"Whatever, it isn't bloody important. I'm not gay."

The look on Ron's face didn't change and Harry nearly screamed in frustration. "I'm not! Just because I can't find a wife doesn't mean I want to bugger Malfoy!"

"Fine fine, I believe you. Look, I might have convinced Malfoy to go to the ball alone. If it wasn't for whatsername I'd suggest the same to you."

"And then what? We'd dance together like fourth years at the Yule Ball? If it makes any difference, we already discussed the possibility of one of us being romantically interested in the other and neither one of us is. It's simple."

"When is anything between you and Malfoy ever simple," Ron said.

Harry went to Hermione for advice on his date with Alicia now that he and Ron were fighting-not-fighting. Hermione and Ron would be there since they were both still considered major celebrities and Hermione wanted a night off from the kids.

"Just be yourself, Harry. No witch worth marrying is going to decline a second date with you because of who you are."

"I don't think anyone will ever accept me for who I am."

"Bollocks." Hermione rarely swore. "What about me and Ron? The Weasley's? Andromeda?"

"That's all different."

"What about Malfoy?"

"I'm not gay!"

"I wasn't asking if you were, I was just asking if he accepted you for yourself."

Harry thought about it for a few moments. Hadn't Malfoy always been the one who accepted him for who he was? Hadn't he always been the kind of person who thought the fame was a lie and Harry was just Potter after first year?

"Yeah, I guess since he's never thought of me romantically, he's never held me to the same standards some people do."

"It's probably good you think that."

• • •

Feelings were going to ruin Harry's life. In addition to missing working on the Malfoy Murder Mission instead of The Problem, he now spent every free second of his time stressing about his first date with Alicia and having to dance in public.

Hermione had given him a book a few years ago that was supposed to help him achieve maximum happiness. The book basically said that as long as you keep living, you'll have spikes of happiness after achieving goals and there are ways to be happier for a bit, but your general level of happiness will always remain consistent. Harry thought it was bullshit and Ron had helped him use the copy to make paper aeroplanes, much to Hermione's chagrin.

Now, though, Harry remembered the part that asked him to think about the happiest day of his life. It had been a while since he'd had to conjure a Patronus and it had taken him some thinking. He'd realised that his happiest days had all been spent at Hogwarts and that since he'd graduated, few had measured up. Over the last couple of weeks though, the answer had shifted and his night spent teaching the children while Malfoy mixed drinks stood as one of the most fun of his life. There had been something so freeing about the night that he'd had so much worry over initially, even if he had had to suffer through dancing with a handsy witch twice his age.

Now Harry had to think about what would lead to his overall largest number of happiness spikes. For years, he'd been centering his life around the idea that that thing was a person. When he looked at all his friends and saw them happy and in love, he didn't miss the connection. However oblivious Hermione thought he was, it was impossible to miss some things. What if this date with Alicia was his only chance to find someone who wouldn't treat him like a hero because of something he did as a teenager? What if it was his only chance at love? And most worryingly, what if he blew it all over not being able to dance?

Harry went shopping for dress robes that would suit him that weekend. At least if he messed up his dancing, he wouldn't look horrible.