You?!

"It's here!" Ginny sing-songed, sidling up behind Hermione's desk and waving an envelope in front of her face. Hermione impatiently brushed the younger woman aside, trying to concentrate on the speech she was proofreading for Minister Bones. But Ginny persisted, finally snatching away the speech Hermione had been so intently studying.

"Hey!" Hermione exclaimed, a large blot of ink forming on the page as it was rapidly pulled away from under her quill. "Listen Ginny, I appreciate what you're doing for me, but I simply must get that speech read."

The redhead rolled her eyes. "You've been working at this desk for seven hours straight," she said accusingly. "Isn't it time you took a break? You haven't stopped for tea or a trip to the loo since you got here at precisely 7:13 am."

Hermione looked up suspiciously at Ginny. "And how exactly do you know my every movement, or lack thereof?"

Ginny waggled her eyebrows, nodding in the direction of the intern Hermione had put to work stuffing envelopes. "He's taken quite a fancy to you, you know. If it doesn't work out with this compatibility test, you can always date him." Ginny laughed as Hermione rolled her eyes, looking repulsed at the very thought of being near the clumsy, pimply teenager on an occasion that was not strictly work-related.

Ginny, spotting an opportunity, took advantage of Hermione's silence, grasping the older woman's arms and physically hauling her out of the chair. Hermione was so surprised she didn't resist. "We're leaving," Ginny informed the stunned intern. "Come on, Hermione." Protesting faintly, Hermione was cajoled, pushed and finally, literally dragged across the threshold and out the door.

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"I can't believe I just did that," Hermione said, looking ruefully at the entrance of the Ministry building that she and Ginny had just exited only moments before. "I've never just up and walked out of work before."

"Precisely why you simply must do it now," Ginny stated, nudging Hermione along at a more rapid pace. "Anyway, we've got to get you ready. You have a date in less than two hours."

"WHAT?" Hermione exploded, stopping suddenly. She grabbed Ginny's arm, pulling the younger woman so that they stood face to face. A number of passing Muggles turned to look at them oddly. "What do you mean I have a date tonight?" Hermione hissed, gritting her teeth.

"You, er, got a letter from the Yenta Livery Company." Ginny fished around in her pocket, pulling out a neat letter and handing it to Hermione. Hermione snatched the letter, reading it half-aloud to herself.

"Dear Ms. Granger....a match located....96% compatibility...please respond..." Hermione waved the letter in Ginny's face. "Let me guess, you responded for me."

Ginny nodded sheepishly, having sense enough to look ashamed. "I figured that you might not want to go through with it," she reasoned. Hermione's nod of agreement at that statement, rather than dissuade Ginny, gave her a surge of confidence. "See! You wouldn't have made anything of this. Maybe you aren't too familiar with this system, but a 96% is a very good score."

More exasperate than angry now, Hermione sighed. "Couldn't you have at least told me in advance? I have a lot of work tonight, I won't be able to make it to this meeting."

"No," Ginny declared. "You are going tonight. You're going to go home, and we're going to get you dressed and ready. No ifs, ands or buts."

"I don't have a dress," Hermione pointed out dryly, knowing it was a lame excuse as soon as she said it. But she really didn't have any other logical reason to not go.

"That's fine," Ginny said, shrugging it off as she steered Hermione down the sidewalk. "I've got plenty, and we are just about the same size. Mum will help with any tailoring if we need it." She glanced down at her watch. "Now lets go– we've only got an hour and forty five minutes before you need to be there!"

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Yenta Livery Company

Yenta Livery Company, London Office

Snape blinked at the letter in his hands. This was unexpected, to say the least. An uncharacteristic bubble of hope burgeoned in his chest. Who would have thought that anyone would have a 96% compatibility rating with him? And to think that they were so close by!

Snape scratched a large checkmark into the 'Yes' box, quite curious to see who this mystery match was. Perhaps– he was loath to say it– but perhaps Dumbledore still did have a few functioning brain cells left after all.

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Hermione, though she wouldn't admit it to Ginny, was actually looking forward to meeting this mystery man now that she'd thought about it. After all, who was it that she had so much in common with? Vaguely she toyed with the disconcerting thought that her match would be another rule-obsessed workaholic much like herself before banishing the thought from her head.

"Ready?" Ginny chirped cheerfully, sticking her head into the bathroom where Hermione stood, criticizing her appearance in the mirror. Hermione shook her head, struggling to pin her charmed curls into place. Ginny knew all sorts of spells for this type of thing– hair, make-up, even clothing could be altered with a tap of her wand. But in truth, Hermione felt nervous with all the preparation going on. She couldn't help worrying that she was working herself up for nothing, and that it was all going to be a disappointment.

"I'm ready," Hermione said finally, stepping out of the bathroom. Ginny nodded her approval, secretly glad she had forbidden Fred and George from accompanying them to the meeting place. Their wolf whistles might have scared Hermione off.

Ginny tossed a handful of Floo powder into the fire grate, bowing slightly to Hermione. "You may go first." She was not about to let Hermione sneak off and miss her appointment.

"Yenta Livery Company, London office," Hermione declared loudly as the flames seemingly swallowed her up. Ginny followed a moment later, and both girls emerged in a pleasant, posh sitting room. The walls were painted a pale lavender, and an almost sickeningly sweet smell filled their air.

"Ms. Granger?" A plump, smiling witch enquired, eyeing Hermione. The young woman nodded, and the YLC witch smiled. "Right this way, please." With one last fearful look at Ginny, Hermione allowed herself to be led into a small sitting room.

It was sparsely furnished, having only a small loveseat and a table with a simple tea service on it. Trying to distract herself, Hermione focused on the pleasant view depicted in the enchanted windows. "Lovely, isn't it?" The plump witch sighed. Hermione nodded distractedly.

A small popping sound was heard, and the witch promptly glanced down at the clipboard in her hands. "Oh! It looks as if your match is here already!" She smiled; Hermione gulped. "Why don't you take a moment to get settled, and I'll send him in a minute." Snapping out of her semi-lethargic state, Hermione nodded. Nothing to be worried about, she reminded herself. This was simply a meeting. How bad could it be? After all, they were extremely compatible.

"Good luck, dearie," the plump witch said, exiting the small room. Hermione nodded, occupying her trembling fingers by smoothing the folds of her skirt. Again she gazed out the enchanted window, using all her powers of self-control to not whip around and see who her match was as the door creaked open.

A young, shapely witch stood with her back to him as Snape entered the room. She looked promising, he thought, clearing his throat to get her attention. Slowly she turned around, offering him a polite smile. Snape was on the verge of smiling back when– oh Gods! It couldn't be. The smile fell off the woman's face immediately, and her eyes widened in both shock and horror.

"Professor?!" Hermione squeaked, staring incredulously at the dreaded Potion's professor she had thought she'd left behind at Hogwarts. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Snape replied sourly, his stunned expression replaced swiftly by his usual sneer. No way. There was no possible way in hell that Hermione Granger, the little know-it-all that had constantly tortured him all throughout her years at Hogwarts, was his ideal match. "However, I don't think I shall be staying long, if that is alright by you, Miss Granger." Pivoting on his heel, he swept back out the door. Or, at least he tried. His efforts were in vain. The door had been locked. From the outside.