Chapter 1: It's My Party

Disclaimer: None of the characters or settings are mine. I only play with them for a while.

A/N: I'm happy to finally be able to thank my betas lux_astraea and lady_karelia for all their help and being available literally at the last minute. *hugs* Thanks also to firefly124 for helping with the brainstorming at crucial moments and for helping with the chapter titles. And finally I'm indebted to lux_astraea for all our brainstorming sessions when I came to visit after Easter and in several chat sessions after that. Without her this fic would never have seen the light of day and I would be on Shiv's wall of shame. Thanks sooooo much!!! *death-hugs* Also thanks for supplying the Chinese for Voldemort's new title. *winks* She had some really good ideas with regards to the different pairings as well and is totally responsible about how the foursome turned out. :D

Thanks also to the little one, who deigns to put up with Mommy's writing antics.

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Trials of Matchmaking by shalimar1981

Chapter 1: It's My Party...

Remus wondered if it was possible to do permanent damage to facial muscles by keeping a fake smile plastered on it for hours on end. He hoped not; the 'party' had only been going on for about an hour, and he knew he had no chance of escaping just yet.

Making sure to mingle enough to keep certain, ahem organisers out of his way, he chatted amicably with various people in the room.

He was counting on something happening, as it had at the last party, to give him the opportunity to leave unnoticed, but it had yet to occur. Looking about, he did notice that a certain Ministry official and Ex-Death Eater were chatting with their heads rather too close together for polite conversation. Maybe they'd be the ones to provide the distraction tonight.

In fact if there was one good thing about Molly's machina...uh, parties, it was that everyone seemed to pair up rapidly and in the most interesting of combinations.

After the somewhat anti-climactic end of the war, everyone seemed to be in the mood for romance and he couldn't blame them. He was in the mood for it as well, although he knew fairly well he was no great catch. Besides the witch he had his sights on surely was too smart to fall for him, he thought, his mood rapidly going downhill.

As his Horcruxes were destroyed one after the other and the pieces of soul then returned to him, Voldemort became rather worried... not that he told his Death Eaters that.

However instead of creating some more Horcruxes, like any other evil Overlord would've done, some kind soul (Remus suspected Snape) told Voldemort the rest of the Prophecy. Some other kind soul (Remus suspected Draco Malfoy, judging by the ever-present smug smile on his face) also threatened to off his pet snake, Nagini, the last of the Horcruxes.

Voldemort then did something surprising; he thought long and hard over the situation, the Prophecy and his options. He finally came to the conclusion that it just wasn't worth the hassle, someone else could take the Dark Lord job, and went to a remote town in the border region between Siberia and the People's Republic of China, where it was not too warm, and founded his own religion.

There he had minions who were neither too demanding nor too educated, he was the undisputed religious head without a bloody Boy-Who-Lived and could levy taxes to live like an undisputed religious head should. The Ministry was mainly fine with it as long as he didn't violate the Statute of Secrecy and had put some magical binding on him so all he could use of his magic was of the equivalent of a common Muggle magician. Just in case. It was quite a surprise to Ministry officials that, considering his history, Voldemort didn't seem to mind much having to live as a Muggle from now on. He'd seemed to have acquired a taste for manipulation and coercion instead, so the loss of his magic didn't weigh too heavily.

So Voldemort, who called himself Regou-mai, the Great now, was happy, finally having what he'd wanted all along: power, wealth, loyal minions and fame, since after a while celebrities from a town called 'Hollywood' started showing up on his doorstep exclaiming how 'cool and realistic his make-up was' and that the Dalai Lama and Kabbala teachings were so passé, didn't he agree?

So the wizarding world was happy, having won a war without having to fight it, and Voldemort...pardon, Regou-mai, the Great was happy in China.

But were all happy? Of course not. Naturally that would've made things too easy.

No, the former Death Eaters weren't happy at all, both with Voldemort's decision and with the fact that their master had apparently bound their magic to him with the Dark Mark, which meant they now were reduced to near-Squibs as well and competed for the vacancy of the new Dark Lord, most killing each other neatly in the process before Aurors had a chance to intervene (although it would've been hard for them to take more time answering that particular floo-call).

With most Death Eaters dead and the rest reduced to near-Squibs, the survivors either pleaded 'Imperio' in an almost bored fashion and were set a trial date in a month along with being assigned sponsors to oversee them during that time, or in the case of Snape and Draco, were exonerated almost immediately by some handy Pensieve memories buried in Hagrid's pumpkin patch of all places.

That was why Weasleys, Ministry officials and Ex-Death Eaters came to mingle at the last party at Grimmauld Place before refurbishment started and everyone would move to number twelve, Grimmauld Place. And that meant everyone. Or rather almost everyone.

It had started with Harry's best friends, the Weasleys, whose abode was finally going through some much-needed refurbishments due to Arthur's improved standing at the Ministry. Then some friends had fallen on hard times and the sponsored Death Eaters were released and had to be put up somewhere since their possessions including their habitations had been confiscated until further notice. Remus himself had just found a job as a Muggle school teacher, but had some debts accumulated which made renting a flat by himself impossible. Harry had been kind enough to offer him the use of the attic for as long as he needed to. The only one not living at Grimmauld Place aside from Hogwarts staff seemed to be Hermione.

The younger generation seemed to want to shake off all the more 'expected' relationships they had been involved in and started to date across the board, experimenting a little. Though most choices seemed to become permanent quickly, they seemed genuinely happy about it even though those choices were sometimes somewhat... eccentric.

The same went curiously for the older generations as well.

While no one had been really surprised by Argus Filch and Mrs Figg pairing up (because let's face it, no one really wanted to think about it if they were totally honest). But the two of them eloping to Timbuktu and leaving their cats in Harry's care certainly had thrown everyone – most of all Harry.

Harry was not very pleased about all those cats running around his house all the time, not to mention that everything smelled like Mrs Figg's house now which annoyed him to no end.

It was because of these new circumstances that Harry had managed to get out of today's party. Some of the cats had had a nasty fight and had had to be taken to Hagrid.

Sympathetic to the cats, Molly had agreed to Harry taking care of the 'poor dears' (considering the magnitude of the fight, totally undeserved compassion) but had drawn the line when he and Snape had magnanimously offered to help Harry with this task. Harry was damn lucky as always.

Then again... maybe not. Molly had never forgiven Harry and Ginny for breaking things off amicably and without even explaining why. Now that Harry had got out of attending this Matchmaking Madness there, would be no stopping Molly trying to fix him up with someone.

As Remus himself had learned the hard way (with Nymphadora), trying to resist Molly's considerable will was the equivalent to gaining her unswerving attention.

That was why he was here, completely aware of the real nature of this gathering while pretending otherwise and making very sure to talk with everyone equally.

Oh-oh, clearly the evasion technique is no longer working. Molly Weasley was approaching, dragging a miserable-looking Hermione Granger along.

~*~*~*~*~

Hermione stood glowering in one corner, determined not to be in a good mood for the rest of the evening. As it was, this 'party' wasn't voluntary anyway and seemed to have one purpose alone: matching up the remaining singles in the social circle of Molly Weasley.

She dearly loved the woman, but she'd gone too far.

Besides, the potion she'd been experimenting with had been mucked up by that dratted... uh, misled owl. It had been in a critical stage when the owl had wanted to drop off the blasted invitation to yet another party. This had to be the seventh in the past three weeks. She loved her surrogate family, but there was such a thing as too much contact.

Hermione looked at the doorway again, wondering if she could make a dash for it. Checking the room again for any barriers to this plan, she saw that, no, she couldn't. The Misguided Matchmaker was doing her rounds, and it looked like she was next. Oh, to be able to disappear into thin air! But no, Harry had to keep the Anti-Apparition wards active. A few dozen fangirls in your bedroom were nothing really compared to the plight of your best friend, honestly?

Hermione drunk deeply from her drink (generously dosed with Firewhisky) to prepare herself for the oncoming menace. And then there she was: Molly I'll-manage-to-pair-up-everyone-in-my-vicinity-or-else Weasley. Hermione wondered what that woman had done before all of her children had left school. Oh, right! The twins. She snorted.

"Hello, Hermione! How good of you to come. Are you enjoying yourself?"

Like a day in Hell.

"Oh, yes. It's a nice party."

''Glad to hear it,'' she said, looking about. ''Now then, why don't you go talk to Remus, I'm sure he'll be pleased to see you.''

If he has any sense, he'll have left by now.

''Yes, Mrs Weasley, I'll talk to you later?''

Now, if I could just make it to the door...

"Not that way dear, he's over there." The Matchmaking Menace steered her away from the doorway and even further into the room.

I'm never going to escape, she lamented.

"Hello, Remus! Look who I found trying to hide behind the family clock!"

"Hello, Molly. Why, what have you been doing behind the family clock, Hermione?" Remus teased her with a smile.

"Just the usual, collecting dust samples for my project, counting spiders..." Hermione joked back.

"You two will be all right, while I go check on Ginny?"

"Yes, Molly," they chorused, smiling at her.

They waited until Molly had disappeared in the crowd before succumbing to the laughter they'd just barely held back before.

"She's incorrigible!" Hermione gasped once their laughter died down a bit.

"That she is," Remus agreed with her. "I could shag you on this settee in front of all these people and she'd still approve."

"Remus!"

"What? Don't deny it, you know as well as I do that I'm right."

"Of course, she would approve of anything that would pair us up, but... you and I, that's just..." Hermione said, staring at him waiting for the correct words to come out of his mouth so she wouldn't have to say anything.

"... crazy," he replied, staring right back at her with a kind of searching look of his own.

"... ridiculous," she finished on her own, feeling quite confused. She was simultaneously glad she hadn't made some blunder and down-right disappointed because of his answer.

"Exactly. I mean we're friends right? The idea even..." he trailed off, his stare now fixed to one of the potted palms in the far corner.

"Right," she replied feeling more down than ever.

A short uncomfortable silence descended on the two as it always did when a conversation drifted into that particular direction, each wondering what the other was thinking.

"So how is your project going?" Remus finally asked, grasping at straws to break the silence.

She merely groaned in agony and hid her face against his shoulder at the memory. Then she told him all about the poor owl and her botched experiment the day before.

When she reached the point when Hagrid had scolded her sternly with the surprising back up of Professor Sprout of all people, who were both ignoring her assurances that she would never use animals for her experiments, Remus was laughing tears. Even she could see the humour in the situation now, though it hadn't been very funny then.

"Oh, I needed that," he gasped, wiping his cheeks dry.

"So glad to amuse you," she replied dryly, but smiling nevertheless.

"Good," he replied with a grin, then continued more seriously, "You could always ask Severus to help you."

She laughed in disbelief. "You must be joking!"

"I'm not, actually," he replied, though a smile was playing about his lips at her aghast expression. "Sure, he is bound to put his old show on, and he'll probably not take you seriously for a while, but he still is one of the foremost Potions Masters in the UK. Plus he has a vested interest for your project to succeed – after all, its results will affect him, too." They looked at Snape sitting in a dark corner, who was hanging onto his glass with a grim determination.

"He's drinking his way through the bar!"

"Well, I'd do the same if I were him. I mean, what has he left? There were two things he did and did well in his life: spying and teaching. No more spying, and who would've guessed that Voldemort had bound his powers to that of his followers leaving them near-Squibs. So he has nothing to do to speak of. His whole way of life is gone with the loss of his powers."

"I know, I know. That is one of the reasons I'm working on this project in the first place."

"Oh, really?" Remus asked with an amused smile. "That is interesting. And here I thought you despised him like everyone else. Do I sense the remnants of a schoolgirl crush?" he teased her, but didn't want to admit that he'd really like to know the answer and not for very altruistic reasons.

"No! A crush? On him? Don't be ridiculous! There is a middle ground between 'despise' and a 'crush', you know," Hermione said firmly, but a deep blush was rising in her cheeks, and she couldn't help but look over at the man in question again.

~*~*~*~*~

Scowling, Snape looked about the room, noting with satisfaction that there was a conspicuously empty space of floor around him. The fact that he was next to the drinks table and it was now empty was just a coincidence, of course.

That was the only thing to get him through one of these insufferable 'parties'.

The only thing more ridiculous than the actual parties themselves, was the unofficial goal of each and every one of them. Molly Weasley had come to the conclusion that now that the war was over everyone should just pair up, marry, and have lots of offspring. Snape grimaced at the thought and took another large gulp of his drink. She'd even started in on him. What a preposterous thought.

Her 'matchmaking' had the most eccentric results so far. Not that he was interested in the romantic escapades of his fellow Order members, but since he had nothing else to do... It was at least moderately entertaining to watch how Molly's efforts were foiled time and again.

She had naturally started on her own offspring first. With Bill safely married and Charlie Weasley off to India with Luna Lovegood, she skipped over Percy Weasley and his amour, wisely deciding not to interfere there, and focused on her twins next.

People being stupid, everyone would naturally assume that one set of twins would fit perfectly with another set of twins. And Fred's choice in Padma Patil seemed to undermine that theory. When Parvati Patil came out of the closet, however, and snogged her long-time 'best friend' Lavender Brown at the Graduation Ceremony, that bubble had burst.

Molly had subsequently tried to throw George in the way of available witches everywhere, but she had been too late. George had taken some, uh, 'backup lessons' at Hogwarts to improve his flying prior to the End Of The War That Hadn't Been and was now happily involved with Rolanda Hooch.

If one could believe it.

So next on her list were of course Ronald and Ginevra. These two were much harder to pair up, which surprised everyone but him.

Ron Weasley was being as jittery and shifty-eyed as he'd ever been while breaking rules at Hogwarts, and since Harry-bloody-Potter was busy trying to hide his homosexuality everyone knew of already and Hermione Granger was apparently busy blowing up owls at Hogwarts in search of some potion (curiously he felt like crying at that, but at least it wasn't Longbottom), Snape guessed the younger man was already involved with someone he was afraid to tell his mother.

If Ronald Weasley thought deflecting every attempt his mother made to pair him up with someone would get her off his back sooner or later, he didn't know his mother at all. Already she seemed to consider other options. Options which could prove to be highly entertaining. So Snape resolved to sit back and watch.

Ginevra herself seemed to be a hopeless case. Every male pushed at her soon turned out to be either involved with someone else already, homosexual or paired up with someone else immediately. And her mother was fast running out of options.

Harry-bloody-Potter himself, who Molly considered another one of her children, just like she did with Miss Granger, seemed to flit from one flower to the next (here Snape had to stifle a chuckle; he was getting tipsy and found this very funny for some indefinable reason), always being so conspicuously careful, everyone already knew that it was only a matter of time for him to come out of the closet officially.

Now Hermione Granger seemed to be the one exception (aside from Ginny Weasley of course) in this pairing up game. After breaking up amicably with Ron Weasley after only being together for three weeks before the end of the war, she had made no move toward dating anyone at all. Instead her hair was more bushy than ever, she always wore the same grubby, Potions-stained robes (which unaccountably made him smile fondly if one could believe it) and threw herself into her apprenticeship with Hogwarts' new Potions mistress. At that he 'humphed' loudly. Not that anyone heard him.

Though she was sitting awfully close to Lupin on that settee. And she was laughing with him, Snape observed, frowning. They seemed to get along very well, judging by the ease of their animated conversation.

Now if she'd only talk to me that wa... his thoughts ground to a halt at the blush rising in her cheeks. Then she looked up directly at him, and their eyes locked for a long moment.

Lupin said something else to her, and she turned her gaze back at her companion.

Snape decided a talk with Lupin about his intentions toward a certain witch was in order.

Helping himself to his third? fourth? drink of the evening, he sat back and watched in terror as Molly Weasley, henceforth known as 'Nosy cow' made her way toward him.

~*~*~*~*~

Meanwhile in another corner of the room stood Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and did what they did best: look extraordinarily beautiful and plot.

"I won't have it! This can't go on!"

"Yes, my dear. It has gone on long enough."

"I won't be followed by that French tart any longer!"

"I don't like Bill Weasley's presence any more than you do his wife's. So, what do we do?"

They thought long and hard, then a devious smile dawned on Narcissa's ethereally beautiful face, and she leaned in to whisper in her husband's ear.

As she outlined her plan, Lucius' face slowly grew a wicked grin. A grin that clearly didn't bode well for someone. "Oh, I love the way your mind works, my dear," he said and proceeded to kiss his way down her neck as he thought over her plan. It was devious as a plan by a Malfoy should be. And wicked, very wicked.

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A/N: The chapter title is taken from the song 'It's My Party' by Lesley Gore.

Voldemort's new name Regou-mai is Mandarin, courtesy by lux_astraea, and means 'hotdog seller'. *evil grin* I bet he didn't know what it meant when his minions started calling him that.