* This was based off a three-word prompt that SaintDionysus gave in our Writer Wellness group in FB.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter.

'This was a huge mistake!'

Hermione sighed for the fifth time since she'd stepped into the rustic bar in the outskirts of Diagon Alley, down the road leading to the mystical mountain where teenage witches frequent to perform the so-called 'soulmate ritual' on the eve of the Summer Solstice.

She fiddled nervously at her glass of wine. She was neither a teenager nor was she there to perform the 'soulmate ritual'; she was there for a totally different reason - a reason she knew she would probably bring with her to the grave. She sighed again.

Her phone lit up and startled her. A Tinder message appeared and she blushed to high heavens. It was a message from him.

'I'm nearly there, angel. Can't wait to see you.'

A smile appeared on her face as she read the short message from the cursed dating app that she'd installed one lonely Friday evening. Within minutes, she'd gotten messages from several guys, but there was one message that caught her attention - one from a guy who only had a picture of a green apple and the initials SP on his profile - the guy whose message read - 'how do you pronounce Leviosa?' and the rest, as they say, was history.

For over a week, they'd been going back and forth with each other - telling each other about how their days went, without giving a lot about themselves away. It killed her not knowing who her mystery wizard was, but the possibility of seeing each other at long last killed her even more.

And yet there she was, tapping her fingers on the wooden table at the same tempo her heart was beating at that precise moment. She glanced at the glorious sunset from the window beside her to calm herself down and caught sight of fireflies in the distant horizon.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

An all-too-familiar voice startled her out of her daydream, and she jumped in surprise. She felt her heart leap to her throat as she fixed her brown eyes on the person standing in front of her.

"Granger, is this seat taken?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice a whisper. "I'm actually meeting someone here today."

"Ah, wonderful," he said, as he plopped down the chair as elegantly as he could in the small rustic bar. "So am I."

"You don't understand, Malfoy, he could be here any minute."

"What makes you think he isn't here yet," The dashing blond businessman asked, as he fished his mobile phone from his pocket and placed it right next to hers. "Angel?"

She felt her face flush as the nickname she'd come to love fell delicately from his lips. Lowering her gaze, she bit her lower lip and tapped her fingers on the table once more.

"Slytherin Prince, Granger… SP," he drawled as if reading her mind. "I thought it was pretty obvious."

She remained silent for a few more seconds, wondering what the hell he was playing at, getting on Tinder to meet up with her. He cleared his throat. Nervously, she lifted her gaze to meet his once more. And as his silver-grey eyes plunged into hers, she saw uncertainty rather than his usual self-confidence in them.

"I wanted to ask you out for a few months now, but I somehow couldn't work up the courage to do so," the Slytherin Prince started, as he slowly placed his hand on hers. "When I saw you had Tinder installed, I jumped on the chance to see you without being shut down upfront. You're not disappointed, are you?"

A smile stretched across her lips. "Only because you haven't kissed me like you promised."

His eyes sparkled before they grew darker, and a mischievous smirk now played on his lips, as he drew her closer.

"I think that can be arranged," he whispered against her lips. And the rest, as they say, was history.