A/N: Alright guys, I wasn't planning on writing all of this, but it turned out to be longer than I thought. This is for the Love in Unusual Places challenge from the Twin Exchange, and based off of the movie You've Got Mail. My prompt was a muggle cafe, and Gemma, weasleyobsessed, I really hope you like it! :D

"Come on, Hermione!" Harry groaned, trying desperately not to sound like he was whining.

His friend of eleven years pressed her lips together and thumped a stack of parchment files down on her desk. "Harry, stop whining. It's not going to do any good at all."

"But Mione, we've tried everything! There's nothing else to try but this!"

Hermione angrily pushed stray strands of curly hair behind her ears, telling herself with all her might that she was not allowed to hex Harry so badly he and Ginny could never fully enjoy their weekends ever again. No. Such a thing would be childish and uncalled for.

…

Well, it would definitely be childish.

"I'm not going to do it, Potter, so just drop it." Hermione huffily moved around to the other side of her desk and sat down in her chair. She absolutely abhorred the times that Harry decided to drop into her office to have this discussion. "It's desperate, and…and probably unsafe." Darn. She knew she should have kept her mouth shut.

Harry knew the same thing. She was grasping at straws, trying to give him a verbal outline of why she shouldn't try it. "It's not desperate. People do it all the time, and really, how else do you think you'll have this opportunity, huh? You're in your office all the time and when you're not here, you're with me and Ginny."

Somehow, Harry's words struck Hermione like a blow to the chest. Was he saying that he didn't want her around? Did he want her to leave them alone? Life hadn't changed much for the Weasley, Potter, and Granger gang, except that almost everyone was married and living almost-happily ever after.

Practically everyone sans Hermione. And the twins, though George was currently chasing after Angelina Johnson.

Harry saw the change in Hermione's features and watched with trepidation as his friend blinked quickly, staving off the tears that were surely welling up behind her eyelids. "No, I didn't mean it like that," he amended. He ran a hand through his hair, still as messy as it had always been, and groaned. "Merlin, I didn't mean it like that. Ginny and I love having you around, but we both want you to have what we have. Ginny was the one to see it first. Mione, you're lonely, and even though you try not to show it, we all know that you are."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest. "No I'm no-"

"You may not think so," Harry cut her off, "but you are, and we don't want to see you continue to watch us all move on while you're stuck in your job and taking care of us." Harry took a breath and brought out the bellow-the-belt punch. "I know you want kids and, well, you're running out of time."

Hermione groaned and dropped her head onto the desk, pressing her hands over her ears. "Please don't start on the Ticking Time Bomb card, Harry James Potter. I'm not that old!"

Harry had the decency to wince.

He thought she would say more, would tell him to get out of her office so that she could get some actual work done, but instead, Hermione stared at him for a long moment, her lashes every so often brushing against the bags under her eyes, one of the many testaments of her long hours at work, and finally sighed. "Alright," she said softly, so softly that he almost missed it. "Alright, you win."

Harry's features perked up. "Really? You'll do it?"

Hermione glared at him, but her stare held only minor annoyance, no actual malice. "I don't really have a choice, now do I?"

Harry smiled. "Nope!" He moved around the desk and kissed Hermione's cheek. "Thank you, thank you, Mione. Everyone will be so happy!"

She waved him off flippantly, struggling not to laugh at his exuberance. Just as he was stepping out the door, she called out, "But so help me, Harry Potter, if I end up dead in some alleyway, I'll haunt you for the rest of your life!"

Harry just grinned at her over his shoulder. "I'll take the risk."

Hermione stared at the sheet of parchment in front of her, gnawing on her lip so hard she had tasted fresh blood several times already. Now that the parchment was in front of her, she wasn't sure that she could actually do it. Curse Harry, Ginny, and everyone else who decided that she needed to start dating again.

More specifically, she hated the way they were forcing her to approach the dreaded dating game once more.

The parchment on the table served her like a muggle online dating quiz, magically sifting through thousands of other people's responses to find her "Mr. Right" based on who else had a close enough response to hers. The quill that came with the paper was magically warded to only work when the user was telling the absolute truth, and Hermione wondered if it might have been treated with Veritaserum.

And now, it was just sitting there on the table, practically staring her down. Who knew that a piece of paper could be so intimidating? "All right Hermione, suck it up," her mind ordered. "You're a big girl and you can do this. It's just a piece of paper, for Merlin's sake!" Yet, that didn't make it any easier to pick up the quill and read the first question.

What do you look for in a prospective mate?

"What are we?" Hermione scoffed. "Animals?" And yet, she quickly marked the boxes next to the words "smart," "tall," "honest," and "loyal." Her quill moved over and scratched across the "successful" box, but no ink came out, not even a sputtering drop. Hermione frowned, confused, and then remembered that the quill would not mark anything that wasn't true. Really? She wasn't looking for someone successful?

She tried to move on, but the quill jumped from her hand and hovered over the first question again, signifying that her answer was not complete. Hermione frowned, but continued down the row of boxes until "sense of humor" and "playful" were added to the list. Was this thing for real? Hermione wondered if it was really working properly.

Next question: Would you be willing to leave your job for your mate?

Hermione easily swished the quill over the "NO" box, absolutely certain that the answer could not possibly be "YES." The quill didn't make a mark. "What?" she asked aloud. "That's impossible! I love my job!"

The quill, however, was firm in its decision, and Hermione knew that she could not move on to the next question until she marked the "YES" box.

The quiz went on for what seemed like an eternity, probably due to the fact that most of Hermione's answers were not what she had expected. If the quill was really enchanted, then it knew more about her than she knew about herself. How was that even possible?

She was never so happy to send an owl off as she was when she sent her quiz back. It took on a few minutes for her to get a response, but when she did, all the parchment asked her to do was to pick a location, either in the muggle or wizarding world, for the first meeting. Hermione had to smile when she realized that the dreaded word "date" was never used. Considering that this was indeed a wizarding matchmaking service, Hermione's first thought was to find a place in Diagon Alley or some other place close by to meet.

Someplace with plenty of witne-she meant people, and a very small percentage of alleyways.

But the longer she thought about it, the more and more Hermione's mind kept turning back to this small café in muggle London that she and her parents used to frequent on special occasions. It was much better than a diner, but it wasn't fancy enough to cause much harm to her date's wallet, so Hermione deemed it average…and perfect. She would have the upper-hand here, at least comfort-wise. A Spoonful of Sugar was almost like a home court for her, and it would be easier for her to relax than to try to acclimate herself to a new restaurant and a new person sitting across from her at the same time.

She sent the parchment back, marked only with the restaurant name and a few simple directions to help guide her date. According to her quiz, he would have to like muggleborns, so there shouldn't be much of a problem meeting at a muggle café. Now, she would just have to wait. According to the rules of the matchmaking service, they would meet the next evening at the restaurant and would then begin corresponding if they chose to continue seeing each other. If not, the service would automatically pair them with two different people.

Easy, right?

Wrong.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her fingers drumming against the tabletop to keep from wriggling too much. If she kept herself occupied enough, then she could overlook the fact that her date was over an hour late. Anxiety was clawing at her throat, demanding a way out, and it was taking all of Hermione's willpower to force it down. Her lack of experience in dating was so glaringly obvious that she was surprised there wasn't a sign like "I'm completely out of my league" hanging over her head in flashing neon lights. Should she leave? Should she wait? Had she missed daylight savings time or something? No, that was only in America. Shoot.

The waitress stood before her again, tapping her foot against the floor to get Hermione's attention. After the fifth time, she had stopped clearing her throat. Hermione gazed up at her anxiously and gave a nervous half-smile, half-laugh. "Maybe a few more minutes?" she asked. The waitress just rolled her eyes, smacked her gum, and walked away.

She was obviously displeased. Well, Hermione really couldn't blame her. She prided herself on punctuality, and this certainly was not meeting up to her standards.

"Well Granger, this is an unpleasant surprise," a voice Hermione knew well commented.

Hermione turned her head and found Draco Malfoy standing by her shoulder, smirking down at her. Immediately, Hermione tensed up. Draco was her coworker at the Ministry, and a good friend after the War, but he was definitely not someone she wanted to see right now. Plus, he was happily married and expecting his first child. Hermione just rolled her eyes. "Grotesque as always, Malfoy. You'd better not stick around for long, though. Luna will be quite displeased."

Both of them reveled in their banter, and neither became easily offended by the other anymore, so Draco just grinned. "I'm actually suffering with your presence tonight because of Luna. I need ideas for her birthday next week." He nodded toward the only other chair at Hermione's table. "Mind if I sit?"

Hermione saw the waitress practically jump towards them, anticipating the arrival of her tardy guest. However, Hermione stopped them both with a shake of her head. "Sorry Draco," she apologized, all teasing set aside, "but that seat's actually for someone else."

It took Draco one moment to realize that she was denying him sitting rights, then another moment to take in Hermione's semi-formal state of dress, and finally another couple of seconds to identify the book and red rose perched on the table in plain sight of anyone walking into the establishment before he finally put the pieces together and stared at Hermione. "You're on a blind date?" he practically screeched, causing Hermione's heeled shoe to make painful contact with his shin.

"Announce it to the whole world, why don't you," she growled while he cursed, bending over to rub his smarting shin.

"You caught me by surprise, Granger," he finally said, stealing the chair so that he could reach his shin easier. "I don't remember you ever dating. After the Weas-Ron, I mean."

Hermione flushed, embarrassed by the truth. After all the disasters with Ron, she'd just stopped thinking too much about dating. Her job swept her away most times, and her family (even the adopted sections of it) meant more to her than anything, or anyone, else. "So? A girl can't date every once in a while?"

Draco just shrugged, acquainted enough with the influx of women's emotions to know that anything other than a shrug would surely get him in trouble. "Guess I'll see you around then, Granger."

Hermione nodded. "I'd be happy to go over it with you tomorrow. Maybe at lunch?"

Draco nodded. "Perfect." He turned to leave, and Hermione once again dropped her head, but he called out, "And Hermione?" When she looked up at him again, he smiled softly. "You look great tonight."

Hermione smiled in return, feeling the smallest bit of warmth flood her body. A compliment like that from Draco meant that she really looked good. "Thanks Drake."

The nickname made Draco smile wider, then he turned and strolled out of the restaurant. Belatedly, Hermione forgot to ask how he had even known where to find her! Someone must have told him and neglected to add the part about it being a date, or worse, he knew all along and was just messing with her.

It was probably the latter.

She blew a strand of hair out of her face, not even bothering to push it back. The hand that was resting on the rose and her favorite copy of Hogwarts: A History trembled just slightly before she tightened it into a fist. Why was this happening to her? Why had he not come?

"Hermione?"

Hermione's head shot up in surprise and found a very tall, very purple-haired Fred Weasley standing across from her with a surprised look on his face. "Fred?"

He ran a hand through his re-well, purple hair and asked, "What are you doing here?"

Could this night get any worse? Did everyone and their grandmother have to come in and see little Hermione Granger, one third of the Golden Trio, sitting alone at a table with a rose and a book, ready to cry because her date stood her up? Apparently so. "I'm meeting someone here," she said tersely, harsher than she had anticipated. She was about to ask what he was doing standing by her table, but what came out of her mouth was, "What happened to your hair?"

Fred rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair again, a nervous twitch he had unfortunately picked up from Ron. "Product testing gone wrong," he said, as though it would explain everything. Strangely, it did. "George is an idiot sometimes." He grinned down at her with that crooked grin of his, and Hermione felt the old stirrings she had felt for him as a young Gryffindor.

She quickly pushed them away. She had no business thinking about Fred and how she was possibly still in love with him when she was about to meet someone else. But perhaps….could Fred be-

She pushed those thoughts away as well. Ridiculous.

Fred chose this moment to ask, "Who're you waiting for?"

What did she have to lose? Her date was well over an hour and a half late, so why not just admit it? "Someone who stood me up." The bitterness in her own voice surprised her, and Fred, because he raised his eyebrows.

"Someone stood up our Hermione?" he asked with a frown. He nodded to the chair across from her and asked, "Can I sit?"

Hermione just nodded. It wasn't like her date was going to come anyway. And when Fred asked her to share the story with him, she couldn't refuse. She told him everything from the beginning, and teasingly blamed Harry and Ginny for the whole thing. Fred laughed and frowned in all the right places, and Hermione felt herself easing up around him for the first time in a while. Though her crush on Fred had always flamed high, she had struggled against her fear that he would prank her whenever he saw her and make a fool out of her.

"So are you going to write to this guy and chew him out?" Fred asked, pushing his pasta around on his plate. Hermione's waitress had been so excited that she was actually going to have a paying customer at her table that she had rushed their food out almost as soon as they ordered it.

Hermione chewed on one end of her bread before she shook her head. "Perhaps he has a good reason for not coming tonight. I think, though, that I'll wait until he writes to me. If he doesn't, then I know that for some reason, he wasn't interested. But no matter what, I'm not going to chase some guy around just because a magic pen and a dating service says that we should be together."

Fred nodded around another mouthful of pasta, but thankfully waited until his mouth was empty to comment. "Good choice," he told her.

They were both quiet for a while, finding comfort in not having to fill the silence with meaningless, trivial comments. Finally, Hermione glanced down at her plate and said softly, "I wanted him to come."

When she looked up, she found Fred watching her with an odd expression-was it sorrow?-on his face. "I know," he admitted with a nod.

When Hermione finally left the restaurant after saying goodnight to Fred and thanking him for spending time with her and paying for dinner, she apparated into her apartment and sighed, kicking her heels into a corner. Well, the evening had been pretty much shot, unless she counted the time she had spent with Fred…which she most certainly did!

She prepared for bed and had propped herself up to read just as an owl began tapping at her window. It took her a few moments to untangle herself from her covers, but she finally managed to tumble out of bed and stumble to the window. "Thank you," she said softly, letting the strange bird nuzzle into her hands. This must be her awaited letter. The bird waited on her windowsill, so Hermione opened the folded square of parchment and read the small note within.

Roses are Red

Violets are Blue

Sugar is Sweet

And so are You

Hermione's heart fluttered, despite the cheesy cliché of the note, but her smile soon faded when she read the second part of the note…

But the Roses are Wilting

The Violets are Dead

The Sugar Bowl's Empty

And so is Your Head

Hermione's eyebrows shot up and her lips pressed together angrily. She wandlessly summoned her quill and scrawled on the bottom of the note the most appropriately cutting retort she could think of at the moment:

Well, if you woo all your women with such insulting phrases, it's no wonder you have resorted to matchmaking services. I will make sure to request someone else directly.

She sent the owl off with one last pat, whispering, "Give him a good nip or two for me." The owl hooted softly and flew off into the night.

Hermione left the window open, and was pleased that she had because the owl returned swiftly, plopping down among her blankets and fluttering her wings agitatedly. Hermione opened the note attached to the owl's leg and found a slightly different scrawl of handwriting covering it.

If you ever take enough pity on me to open this note, then I must beg your forgiveness for my brother's stupid actions. You see, there was an accident at my business tonight and I was unable to make it to our date. Since it was a muggle restaurant, I couldn't send you any notice, and the owl only arrived after you (presumably) arrived back home. It was at this time that my brother decided to be funny, since he found the bird before I did, and write that note to you. Sadly, he is the one that is steadily dating, and I am left in the wake of his creative outbursts when it comes to women. If there is any forgiveness in you, send back a response and let me start afresh.

Yours Faithfully,

Topsy-Turvy HexaU

Hermione frowned and stared at the parchment in her hands, unsure what to make of the signature at the end. The note itself made sense, since owls bringing messages was not an easily-explainable practice in a muggle restaurant, but the signature at the end bothered her. Topsy-Turvy HexaU? What kind of name was that?

If there truly was an accident at your shop, she wrote, then of course you are forgiven. I understand how difficult getting word to someone you don't know might be. As for your brother, I hope you can manage to keep him away from this note!I welcome fresh responses, and will look forward to getting another one.

Yours Sincerely,

Time-Turning Lioness

P.S. Why are we not using our real names?

Hermione read over the letter critically. Was her signature too obvious? Should she have used something else, or would he be stumped? So few people knew about the Time Turner incidents anyway, that she had a feeling of relative anonymity with that one. She sent the owl away and was not surprised when the poor creature flew back only a few minutes later. Indeed, Hermione was quite excited.

You are fair as well as witty. I must thank you for giving me another chance. As for my brother, I have locked him in a cupboard until we are done talking! (Don't worry, it's a large cupboard and he's perfectly fine.) Tell me about yourself, as much as you feel comfortable with….

Yours Faithfully,

Topsy-Turvy HexaU

P.S. Writing to you like this is more fun, like a brain-teaser. Plus, I hope to meet you soon and take you out on an actual date, so I would prefer to get to know each other's names face to face.

Hermione grinned and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment, turning to the owl next to her that was already starting to settle down amongst the sheets and blankets. "Sorry, my little friend, but it seems that it's going to be a long night…."

"So how's it going with your mystery man?" Fred asked two weeks later when Hermione dropped in to visit him. She'd been coming around more often, something she couldn't quite explain, and Fred never mentioned her increased visits; they simply existed together. She asked him questions, he gave advice.

Hermione shrugged, trying to keep her blush down as she thought about all the things they talked about. She'd never been so personal with someone she'd never met. Heck, she'd really never been so personal with people she had! But somehow, Topsy's easy manner made it effortless to share anything and everything that had gone on throughout the day. She could share anything, and she didn't have to worry about him judging her. More often than not, anything embarrassing she wrote, he returned with something just as embarrassing about himself. "Fine, I guess," was all she said, feeling somewhat shy about talking about Topsy while shoppers mingled around the store.

Fred seemed to sense this as well and motioned George over. "Hermione and I are going to go get something to eat really quick," he said, and George nodded, turning around just in time to catch some toy that a young customer had let loose.

"Hurry back!" he joked easily.

Fred and Hermione meandered through Diagon Alley, Fred listening while Hermione talked. She told him everything she was willing to tell him about her letters, asking for his advice as usual. "He hasn't asked me to meet him again," she said carefully after a while. "What if he was just saying that he wanted to meet me as a way of being nice? I mean, what if he showed up, took one look at me, and left that night?"

Fred shook his head. "Not possible."

His abrupt answer startled Hermione and she stared up at him. "Why not?"

Fred was silent for a moment, stepping away from Hermione as he avoided colliding with another wizard. When he joined back up with her, he said, "Because you're too beautiful to stand up." They were both silent for a moment as Fred gazed at her, almost daring Hermione to say something. When she didn't, he grinned the famous Weasley grin and added, "Besides, maybe it's him."

"What?"

"Maybe he's the reason he doesn't want to meet you," Fred explained. He snapped his fingers excitedly. "Maybe he's fat. Yup, he's fat," he said with sillier conviction. "He's a fatty."

Hermione only rolled her eyes. "I don't care about that."

Fred snorted. "You don't care that he's so fat, he's one of these guys that has to be removed from his house by a crane? You don't care?"

Hermione sniffed and stepped around a mother and her young toddler. "That is very unlikely." Her eyes met Fred's teasing ones and she couldn't help a small snicker. "That's completely ridiculous!"

Fred smiled wide and shook his head, easily slinging his arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Yeah, it is. Mione, he's probably a good guy." He glanced around the busy plaza. "He could be anyone! It could be that guy right there!" He pointed out a wizard buying flowers from a vendor, obviously flowers laced with magic to keep them from wilting. "And those flowers could be for you!"

Hermione had to laugh. "Maybe," was all she said, most of her brain focusing on the pressure of her shirt, the only article separating Fred's arm from her skin. Why should such a simple gesture affect her so much? Her nerve endings were not supposed to be firing sensations marked "tremble" and "pleasure" to her brain just by such an innocent touch!

That night, after her lunch with Fred and a little dabbling in the twins' backroom magic, Hermione arrived home from work and upon entering her front door, heard the ding! that she had charmed to go off when-

"You've got mail."

Her own voice, previously recorded and so exhilaratingly excited, made Hermione kick off her heels and dash up the stairs, her long day of filing papers completely forgotten when she found the familiar owl flopping around on her bed. "Good evening, Bronwyn," she murmured, stroking the bird's white breast feathers, for which she had named her. "Do try to not peck at my pillow again," she chided and tapped the owl on her beak before taking the piece of parchment and curling up on her bed. "You ripped it to shreds last time."

My Lioness,

You have no idea how much I've missed you since we spoke this morning before you left for work. How did your day go? I bet it wasn't as fun as mine!

Hermione grinned and continued to read his long, hilarious account of an angry customer in his shop, and how he had hexed the bloke in return with quite a funny spell, despite the consequences. Whenever he spoke about his shop, Hermione wanted to ask him what he did, but he always skipped around telling her. Would it be something too obvious and give his identity away?

It was a logical explanation.

As always anymore, Hermione's response was just as long as Topsy's, and she ended it tiredly with this:

Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life - well, valuable, but small - and sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven't been brave? So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around? I don't really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void. So good night, dear void.

Yours Sincerely,

Time-Turning Lioness

"Give him my love, Bronwyn," she said softly as the owl flew off into the night. She hadn't expected a response, since it was rather late tonight, but Bronwyn flew back anyway, fluttering and hooting to get Hermione's attention. She untied the small piece of parchment and read the words that would change her life….

While others might not understand you as well as I hope I do, your life is so very important to me. Will you meet me tomorrow?

Ever Yours,

Topsy-Turvy HexaU

Hermione sat, frozen. "What do I do? What do I do?" she mumbled, tumbling off the blankets. She crossed the room to stare at her reflection in her mirror, hoping that she would see something in her features that would tell her what to do.

After all this time of wanting to meet him, all this time of hoping that he wasn't putting her off because he was disappointed, and now Hermione didn't know if she could go through with his request. It was sudden. Maybe too sudden.

"But the blind date wasn't," her reflection scoffed, and Hermione had to admit that she had a good point.

"Alright, so if it's not the amount of time we've had, then what's holding me back?" Hermione asked herself.

She didn't need to look at herself in the reflection to realize that the answer to her question wasn't a what, but a whom. Fred Weasley.

She laced up her shoes and apparated out of her room before she could stop and think. She found herself tumbling through the wards of the twin's flat and reflexively reached out to catch herself before she felt all the way into Fred Weasley's lap.

That was not the way she'd planned on arriving.

"Uh, hi Hermione," Fred murmured, gulping, his hands poised halfway between his lap and her hips, not sure whether to steady her or fiddle with the soft material of his pants.

Hermione wasn't doing much better with her verbal communication. "Hey Fred. I, uh, kinda dropped in. You mind?"

Fred's eyes darted from her face down to where her hips were so close to his, and then back up again. He cleared his throat. "No, not at all. What's up?"

Hermione eased herself out of her precarious position and stood rather awkwardly in front of him. "I want to talk about Topsy."

Fred frowned for a moment and scooted back further onto the couch. "Okay…" he said slowly. "What about him?"

Hermione turned away from him, staring at the fireplace with its crackling hearth, and had the urge to crack her knuckles. So she did. "He wants to meet up," she said, studiously studying the flames instead of the man seated behind her.

Fred sounded just as bemused as she felt when he asked, "Isn't that what you wanted?"

Hermione had to nod. "Yes, I did…"

"But you don't know now?" Fred finished.

Hermione was starting to feel frustrated, both with him and with herself. Why did he have to be so wonderful? Why did she have to be so tongue-tied? "Maybe," she huffed shortly.

There was silence for quite a while, and Hermione wondered abstractly if Fred had left the room, but when she turned around to see if she was alone, he was standing right behind her. She jumped back, but almost collided with the mantelpiece, causing Fred to reach out and catch her around the waist. They stared at each other for what seemed like ages, their faces so close, so dangerously close, before Fred swallowed and asked softly, "Why?"

Hermione almost let out a nervous laugh. Why? He was asking her 'why?'? That was almost laughable! How could she explain that even though she had a charming, sweet, and successful man writing letters to her whenever he could spare a moment to put a quill to parchment, she was still factoring an old crush (which had manifested itself again) into the equation. She was hanging around with the twins too much. Fred was giving her too much advice on her love life. Now, whenever he asked about Topsy, Hermione found herself wishing that they were one person. Fred could be a profound thinker of occasions when it was absolutely necessary, so why wasn't there a spell that she could use to merge the two bodies together? That would save so much trouble.

Before she could really think about the words coming out of her mouth, Hermione whispered, "I think I'm in love with him."

Fred hadn't moved, hadn't stepped away from her or loosened his grip on her waist. Something flashed through his eyes for a moment, but before Hermione could figure out what it was, he craned his neck down slightly, bringing their faces closer together, and voiced the obvious question, "But?"

Hermione could not bring herself to speak above a whisper, and focused her gaze on the collar of his shirt. "But…I think I might be…i-in love with someone else t-too."

She hesitantly lifted her eyes to Fred's after a few long moments of silence and found everything she had been looking for in them. Gentleness, happiness, and…love. Her heart sped up as it leapt into her throat, and-wait, was he moving closer?

Their foreheads were touching now, and Hermione could feel Fred's breath fan across her face with each deep breath. Was he going to kiss her? What would she do about Topsy then? But Fred didn't kiss her. He simply closed his eyes and breathed in for a moment, sighing deeply. "You should go and meet him." His voice was husky and his fingers on her waist were absently rubbing in loose circles, causing tingles to run up and down her spine.

It was like cold water hitting her face. Hermione pulled back a little, confused. "What?" she asked, frowning. Had she missed something, misinterpreted something? Was everything that had just gone on in the last few minutes a figment of her imagination and Fred didn't really like her?

"I think you should go and meet him," Fred said again, yanking Hermione out of her analysis. "See what he's like and whether you feel a connection or not." He smiled, but it looked a little forced to Hermione. "You know where to find me." He tugged on one of her curls, something he had become accustomed to in the last few weeks, and slowly turned away from her. He left her standing in front of the fireplace, alone and confused before she apparated home.

As she mechanically slipped into her pajamas, Hermione battled through the options in her mind. Could she really meet someone else, knowing that she was truly in love with Fred? How could she give either of them hope if she couldn't even decide where her heart lay on the matter? Talk about topsy turvy! Her thoughts couldn't be more upside down!

Hermione froze with one sock on and the other hanging haphazardly off her toes. Upside down. Upside down. Upside down!

She reached over and found the spare pile of parchment she had installed on her bedside table for times like this, startling a sleeping Bronwyn in the process, and began to write. Her note was short and simple, but her letters were slightly shaky from excitement. Could it really be that simple?

She sure hoped so!

I would be happy to meet you tomorrow. How about the café? I'd love to start over again.

Ever Yours,

Time-Turning Lioness

The ball was in his proverbial court, and it wasn't long before Bronwyn was flying back with a positive answer. Good. It was done. Now, Hermione just hoped that she was right….

She was nervous. She was incredibly nervous. Merlin, she was sweating! "Knock it off, Hermione," she told herself sternly. "He'll be here. He promised. Heck, he's rented out the entire café! He wouldn't do that unless he was planning on making it!"

But the waitress from the previous night's debacle was there once more, making Hermione nervous all over again. What if this was just an elaborate way of embarrassing her? She quickly shook herself out of such thoughts. He wouldn't do that.

The door at the front of the café opened, and Hermione's head jerked up, even as her heart leapt, skipped a couple beats, and then began pounding so hard that she was surprised no one else in the café heard it. She saw one leg appear around the corner, and then another. She quickly let her eyes drift up the long torso until she reached the face. Hermione felt her lips stretch into a wide, wide smile and tears pricked behind her eyes without her consent as the man walked towards her. He was getting closer, and when he reached where she was sitting, he gently tugged her up and wiped the tears that were beginning to escape down her cheeks. "Don't cry, Hermione. Please don't cry."

She gave a little half laugh, half cry and smiled up at him. "I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly."

Fred smiled, tucking her hair behind her ears just the way he had last night in the flat. "It's me." Then, he smirked. "You know, I was planning on coming in and saying how holey ravishing you look, but I decided that that was much more George's speed."

Hermione laughed and rolled her eyes, so relieved that she didn't know what else to do. "Wait, why did you not just tell me that first night when you came in here?"

Fred shrugged, looking rather embarrassed. "I really did plan on not going at all. George and I had messed up one of our potions and my hair wasn't going to change back to its normal color any time soon, so I couldn't go and just introduce myself to someone new with purple hair. But, my curiosity got the best of me and I just had to go see who the girl was that I'd been paired with. At first, when I saw Malfoy sitting there, I thought you were just there coincidentally, but then I saw the book and the rose and I knew you were the one." He shrugged again and combed his hand through his hair. "I kept meaning to tell you, but I could never work up the courage, and then George had to further ruin my night by writing to you before I could."

Hermione smiled at the memory. Yes, George would do something like that to her!

"When we started writing," Fred went on, "I kept being surprised by how much I was learning about you. I didn't want the letters to end, but you kept coming around the shop asking for advice, and I couldn't turn you away, so I pretty much sunk myself…or so I thought until you wrote back last night and agreed to meet me. How did you figure out that it was me?"

Hermione smiled up at him and explained, "I signed my letters 'Time-Turning Lioness' because of my Gryffindor days when I used the Time Turner. You signed yours 'Topsy-Turvv HexaU.' I didn't realize it until last night, but your signature means six U's turned upside down and then back up again. Topsy-turvy. If you pair them up, it becomes WWW." She raised an eyebrow and concluded, "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."

Fred chuckled. "Definitely the brightest witch," he affirmed, reaching out slowly and putting his hands around her waist once more. "So tell me, my Time-Turning Lioness, do I have any chance at all?"

Hermione smirked back and let her hands gently cup his cheeks before whispering with a twinkle in her eyes, "I'm holey yours."

Fred laughed and picked her up, swinging her around in a circle before leaning down to capture her lips with his. The kiss was gentle yet deep, expressing everything that they still had left to say. Fred drew Hermione closer and she willingly moved further into his arms, letting him control the kiss and take it wherever he wanted it to go. When they finally drew back from each other, Hermione rested her forehead against Fred's shoulder, feeling the loud thumping of his heart, and sighed happily. "I meant what I said last night," she said softly. "I'm in love with you."

Fred's embrace tightened around her waist and he leaned down to kiss her forehead. "I love you too. I've liked you for a couple of years, ever since you helped me and George in the shop when Verity quit." He chuckled and added, "Even if you complained every few minutes about it!"

Hermione had the decency to blush. "That was only to get your attention."

"You had it," Fred assured her. "You'll always have it."

They were interrupted by the waitress who strolled up with her comically small pad and pencil, tapping her foot and raising an eyebrow. Apparently it didn't matter to her that they were her only customers. Hermione raised one eyebrow and tried not to laugh as she asked Fred, "Well, shall we?"

Fred grinned back. "Definitely."

There are three words that forever changed Hermione's life, and they were all because of Harry, Ginny, and the rest of her friends who gave her the push she needed to begin really living and let love permeate the air. Three words that forever altered the way she looked at relationships, and three words that had quickly become as much a part of her life as Fred Weasley now was:

You've Got Mail.

A/N:Hope you all liked it. Many quotes here are actually taken from the You've Got Mail movie, so bonus points to those of you that recognize them! Please review, and if you can, vote! Voting begins after the 20th, and I would love all the votes I can get! ;) I'll be getting back to my regular stories now that this one's over, but I think it was worth all the work! I hope you thought so too! :D