Disclaimer: No, this isn't mine. Andrew Wells and the Buffy crew are the brainchild of Joss Whedon and Hermione Granger and Harry's posse are JK Rowling's idea. Those two are my gods…

Summary: Hermione and Andrew have been pen pals for 15 years. What happens when they meet? And what will their friends think of it? (Post S7 and post Hogwarts)

A/N: I am so happy right now. Within an hour of posting this, I got reviews. I didn't think I was being original…Anyway, thanks to my reviewers, you guys rock my socks!

This chapter goes out to James, because he asked me to dedicate something to him. Sorry it's not porn, but it'll have to do.

Snail Mail

Chapter 2

"So, has the ponce written back yet?" asked Ron about three weeks after Hermione had sent off her letter to Andrew.

"No," she replied, acting in a way that could only be described as pouting. "And don't call him that; you know it bothers me."

"Maybe that's why we do it," Harry replied. "Besides, what's gotten you so worked up about this letter? You're never like this whenever Andrew has to reply."

"Nothing's gotten me worked up, as you so delicately put it," Hermione replied quickly. However, she was quite nervous, and it was so obvious that even her friends—who were blind to everything except for blonde bimbos and Quidditch—could see it. "I'm fine, really; there's nothing to worry about."

"Well, if you're sure," said Harry, looking apprehensive. He knew what stress could do to people, and if Hermione got too stressed, it was obvious she was going to implode.

"I'm fine," Hermione emphasized. "Now go, go, before Wood has your arses on a platter for missing practice."

"Okay, okay, we're going, we're going," said Ron.

"But you know you can come to us if something's bothering you, right?" added Harry.

"Yes, I know I can come to you guys if I have something to talk about," Hermione conceded. "Now get out of here before Wood has my arse on a platter for making you late."

With grins and waves, Ron and Harry Apparated out of the apartment. It was then, and only then, that Hermione groaned and buried her face in her hands. She was beginning to think she was a little rash when she had asked Andrew to visit. She'd probably completely freaked him out to the point where he'd never wanted to speak to her again. Well, write to her…

Since she hadn't checked her mail that day, Hermione left her apartment and went downstairs to the post area. There, she unlocked her mailbox, and to her surprise there was only one letter in it. She recognized the handwriting instantly, and she bolted back up to her apartment in a haste to read it.

Dear Hermione,

Yes, I know I haven't been writing either; you don't need to rub it in, you know. I've been busy as well; the last time I wrote to you was just before we found out about the leak, and we had to get out of town. I don't know why my friends chose Cleveland, but I went with them because I had no where else to go. Not exactly the best plan; they aren't exactly my friends, more like people I went to high school with. The only one that talks to me without barely-veiled annoyance is Dawn, but she's at school most of the time so I don't get to talk to her much.

What the heck is a ponce, I wonder? It doesn't sound good, judging by your tone. Why don't they like me? Are they jealous because they think I'm going to horn in on their territory? Because if those two are anything like you described, then stealing you away is hardly worth it. Darn those dastardly friends who don't recognize your brilliance!

I think that visiting is a good idea, even if all I want to do is convince you to watch Star Wars. Or even read the books. I know how much you prefer literature to movies. I'd have no problem securing funds for a ticket; one of the people I live with (he's kinda the father-figure of the house) came into a rather large inheritance recently and he's been sharing it with all of us. Since I don't have a job (the prospects for a sci-fi computer geek are slim, surprisingly), I can come anytime. What's best for you?

Reply back as soon as you can!

Love,

Andrew

P.S.—Enclosed is a recent photograph of yours truly. I know you need to change the one that you keep on your nightstand. winks

Hermione took out the photo, wondering what to expect. When she looked at it, she saw that he hadn't changed much. Still short (but seemingly not as short as her), still skinny and still blond. He was smiling innocently at the camera, his boyish geekiness screaming at her even from a photograph. He was cute, in a way, and she was definitely looking forward to finally meeting him.

She scanned the letter one more time, making sure that she had read it right. Hermione had expected to go back and forth for a while before Andrew had even considered coming to England, so it came as a surprise when he agreed so readily. It was a pleasant surprise, but still a surprise.

With a happy smile, Hermione began penning her newest missive to her geeky but strangely adorable pen pal.

OoOoOo

Andrew had been walking on a cloud in the weeks following the arrival of Hermione's letter, and no one could figure out why. Well, it was more like no one cared to figure out why. As long as he didn't pester anyone, then they left him to his own devices.

About a month later another letter arrived, and while Andrew wasn't quite as worked up as the last one, he was still pretty excited. Everyone stayed clear of the high-strung geek, even if it was to avoid hearing him wax poetic about his pen pal.

Andrew greedily opened the letter as he sat on his bed down in the basement, his eyes skipping over the tiny script excitedly. Xander just shook his head as he left the room and headed upstairs.

Andrew,

A ponce is a rather effeminate male. You're right in the fact that it's not good; at least, I don't like it when Harry and Ron call people that. They're rather overprotective of me, and they don't like it when they're excluded from my relationships. They were like this when I still wrote to Viktor after my fourth year. However, that relationship was a bust when I found out that he was already engaged and was just stringing me along. Harry and Ron don't know that yet, because I love annoying them so.

You'll be proud of me, though; I've watched a few Star Wars movies, a few being episodes four, five, six and one. What I don't understand is why George Lucas made the middle three in the 1970's, and is just now getting around to making the first three. However, I am still a die-hard Star Trek fan; at least in Star Trek there aren't any hints of incest. Luke and Leia…eww!

As for visiting, I hadn't expected you to agree to it so readily; I mean, we haven't been in contact for months, and I just dropped the bomb on you. If anything, I expected you to say I was being too pushy. I've been accused of that, and I didn't want to come off that way. Anyway, I have some vacation time coming up in a few weeks. If that's too short notice, I could probably get my supervisor to push it back a couple more weeks so that you can make your arrangements in time. Since it'll take too long for you to write back, I've enclosed my phone number at the bottom of the page. You have to remember, I'm five hours ahead of you. Don't phone after five o' clock your time, and you should be fine.

Best wishes,

Hermione

P.S.—True to form, I have also enclosed a recent photograph. Unfortunately, I couldn't find one with me all by my lonesome, so you get to see me with my two best friends. Hopefully that doesn't detract from the experience.

Andrew then noticed the piece of paper that had fallen onto his bed when he opened his letter. He snatched it up and turned it over. He didn't care what she looked like; she could be a seven-foot gorilla woman with too much body hair and a thing for stilettos. However, that definitely wasn't the case.

Hermione was sandwiched between two males, a red haired guy and a black haired guy. They had their arms slung around Hermione's shoulders and all three of them were smiling goofily at the camera. However, Hermione was the only one Andrew was interested in. She was shorter than both of her companions, coming up to Harry's nose and Ron's shoulder. Her bushy hair was pulled back from her face in a poofy ponytail, giving her the appearance of someone five years younger. The freckles across her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes added to that.

In Andrew's eyes, she was perfect.

Quickly, he checked his watch; it was two o'clock in the afternoon. Doing some quick math, he found out that it was seven o'clock at night in London. It was Friday, and Andrew hoped she hadn't gone out or something. Grabbing the cordless phone next to Xander's bed, Andrew dialed the overseas number with shaking hands. Four rings later, someone picked up.

"Hello, city morgue, you stab 'em we slab 'em."

It was a male voice, and Andrew's heart fell slightly until he heard something in the background.

"Harry, what have I told you about answering my phone!" a shrill female's voice cut through. There was the sound of a struggle, and a triumphant yell from the girl.

"Hi there, sorry about that," she said.

"Uh, hi," said Andrew, slightly nervous. "This wouldn't be Hermione Granger by any chance, would it? Because knowing my luck, I probably dialed the wrong number."

"Yes, this is Hermione," the woman replied. Andrew sighed in relief. "What can I help you with?"

"Oh, right, that," said Andrew. "It's me, Andrew. You know, your pen pal."

There was silence on the other end of the phone, and Andrew didn't like the heavy feeling that was settling on his stomach. Maybe I should just hang up now and avoid further embarrassment, he thought.

"Uh, is this a bad time?" he asked. "Because if it is, I can call back later if you want. It sounded like you were busy anyway."

"No, no, no, it's not like that at all," Hermione replied. "I was just a little surprised, that's all. Besides, Harry was just leaving, weren't you Harry?"

Andrew heard something in the background that sounded like, "Yeah, yeah, I'm going I'm going," and then a door slamming.

"Sorry about that, but he needed to get his mail from when he was out of town," Hermione explained. "So, what can I do for you?"

"Er…well…that is to say," Andrew stammered, not really sure what else to say. He hadn't had much of a plan of what he wanted to talk about; he was just eager to talk to Hermione, to hear her voice. "I was thinking we could…maybe talk about the trans-Atlantic flight I might be taking within a couple of weeks?"

"Oh right, that," Hermione said, and Andrew again felt the bottom of his stomach drop out. It sounded as if she didn't want him to come after all, until her next statement. "When do you think you'll be able to make the flight? I know I have vacation time, two weeks in fact, coming up on the ninth of next month. I know it is a little short notice, but I could probably get it pushed back a week or two. One of my co-workers wanted to switch with me anyway…"

"Hermione, shush," Andrew said, stemming her flow of words. Hermione's end of the line went silent. "It shouldn't be a problem. Knowing the people I live with, they probably can't wait to get rid of me."

"Well, if you're sure…" Hermione began, trailing off slightly.

"Yes, I'm sure Hermione," Andrew said firmly. Just then, Xander came back down the stairs. He looked at Andrew curiously, and the smaller man just glared at him.

"Who are you talking to?" Xander asked as he rummaged around in his underwear drawer. "I mean, who would willingly talk to you?"

"Shut up Xander," Andrew shot back.

"Oh yeah, that's real mature," Xander retorted. "Don't take too long, I'm waiting for a phone call."

"Okay, I won't," Andrew shot back as Xander ascended the stairs again.

"And that would be…?" asked Hermione, sounding curious.

"That would be my lair-mate, Xander," Andrew replied.

"Lair mate…?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah, we share the basement," Andrew replied. "They don't trust him with all the nubile young girls upstairs."

"Uh…huh," said Hermione. "He sounds rather…er…"

"You can say he's a festering jerk, I don't mind," Andrew replied. "In fact, I'd probably agree with you."

"I'm not going to make judgments on people before I even meet them," Hermione replied. "I know how much it hurts, and I'd rather not put anyone else through it."

"Well, suit yourself," Andrew replied. At that moment Xander thundered down the stairs again.

"Look, twerp, I said get off the phone," he said. Andrew rolled his eyes at him.

"Look, Hermione, I have to go," he said, rather regretfully. "I'll call you back later, if you like."

"Sure, sounds great," replied Hermione. "'Bye Andrew, talk to you soon."

"Bye Hermione," Andrew echoed before the line went dead. He turned off the phone and handed it to Xander. "There, happy now?"

"Thanks muchly," Xander replied with a grin, taking the phone and dialing a number on it. With a sigh, Andrew got up off of his bed in search for something to eat, Xander's laughter echoing up the stairs.

OoOoOoOo

Okay, here's chapter 2. I know it's not great, but I have plans for the next one. Don't forget to review!