A/N: I may need to take 1-2 weeks off from posting, as I have a very busy travel schedule coming up. Chapter 7 should still come next Sunday, but the following week may be my break. I can't say for sure, but I hope to continue posting on time!

Also several lines in this chapter are inspired by the script of You've Got Mail (1998).

Subject: Tonight

Dear Jane,

I missed you tonight. I have come up with a million reasons why you didn't come, but all of them fall flat. I hope you'll share with me the reason. I hope you trust me to hold that for you, and I hope you know that my opinion of you will never change because of it.

Questioningly yours,

Nick

Hermione stared at the email from behind her fingers, hands on her face. She'd guessed it would be a gut punch to read, and she'd been right.

She sat in front of her computer, a cup of tea steaming to her left, a towel wrapped around her head. After a shower that did nothing to relieve the stress and mortification that flooded her after leaving the cafe, she decided to check her email, knowing she was looking for exactly this.

Nick — Malfoy — was upset. Of course he was. She saw on his face how badly he'd wanted Jane to come through that door. But instead, he got her.

"And you didn't want to tell him the truth?" Ginny had asked when Hermione had Floo'd her that evening.

"No. I couldn't. I mean, aside from the fact that he would never believe that it was the truth, I had dug myself too deep at that point. Insults and prying questions and everything."

Ginny's hand had appeared in the flames, scratching her forehead. "I see. Will you ever tell him? Blimey, I can't believe you've been having an affair with Malfoy of all people."

"It's not an affair," Hermione had said. "We were never… intimate… over the computer."

Blinking rapidly, Ginny said, "Is that… is that a thing?"

Hermione had given her a very basic overview of cyber sex before excusing herself to a shower.

Now, Hermione sat with a very difficult email in front of her. She could lie? It would be terribly easy to do so. He would never be able to check.

She clicked Reply.

Subject: re: Tonight

Dear Nick,

I had an emergency. My aunt was

Hermione paused. She didn't know if she'd ever mentioned an aunt. She'd have to go back through all her communication with him if she brought up an aunt. He'd proven tonight that he remembered every single thing she'd ever said to him.

Sighing, she deleted and started again.

Subject: re: Tonight

Dear Nick,

I am terribly sorry, but I had a crazy evening. I was mugged on my way to the restaurant. They got my purse and

She tore the towel off her head and rubbed her scalp. No, that wouldn't do. She knew he'd be sympathetic and caring, and that would make her feel even more guilty.

"Ha!" she laughed to herself. Draco Malfoy being sympathetic and caring. That was a laugh.

She squeezed her eyes shut, realizing that she couldn't think of them as different people any longer. It would be maddening.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione put her fingers on the keyboard again.

Subject: re: Tonight

Dear Nick,

I am so sorry that I missed you tonight. It is completely my fault, and it isn't a reflection of you or how I feel about you. I ran into a situation that had to be handled immediately. I'm sorry I can't say more, but truly I'm afraid if I did, it would sound even worse — the idea that I couldn't pull myself away to get to you.

Tell me everything about the evening. How was the cafe? How was the food?

How much do you hate me?

Apologetically yours,

Jane

She sighed, read it for errors, and hit Send. By the time she'd brushed her teeth, there was a reply. Hermione hesitated. She didn't want to read the answers to her questions. She was afraid her excuses weren't enough, and that he would decide to be done with her.

Her fingers hovered over the keys.

Would that be so bad? She considered. It was Malfoy after all. Shouldn't she be trying to figure out how to get out of this terrible situation instead of prolong it?

But she couldn't do that to Nick. Even now knowing that Nick was Malfoy, she cared for him.

She cared… for Malfoy?

Hermione rubbed her temples. No, that wasn't it. She wasn't ready for that statement.

She opened the response to her email.

Subject: re: re: Tonight

Dear Jane,

I'm quite relieved that everything is alright with you. Of course you don't have to detail your personal situation, but I would be happy to lend an ear or some advice if you ever wanted it.

I can't even begin to describe the evening I had. You didn't arrive, but someone else did. Someone that boils my blood and makes things terribly difficult. Someone who believes the worst of me. I couldn't describe the cafe or the food, because it was all ruined by her.

Apologies. It's late and I am still anxious about the whole thing. I should mention that it isn't you that ruined the evening. It was her.

I would very much like to continue talking with you, either on-line or in-person. That's completely up to you.

Humbly yours,

Nick

Hermione stared at the words for what felt like hours. She couldn't concentrate on anything except — boils my blood… ruined by her… terribly difficult.

She could take those sentiments from Malfoy. But from Nick? It didn't matter that she knew they were the same. They were still different in her heart.

She paced in front of her computer, waiting for the right words to come to her. When they didn't she decided that the almost-right words were close enough.

Subject: re: re: re: Tonight

Dear Nick,

I feel terrible that you found yourself in a situation that caused you additional pain. You were expecting to see someone you trusted and found the enemy instead. The fault is mine. Someday I'll explain everything. Meanwhile I'm still here. Talk to me.

Devotedly,

Jane

She shut down the computer and tucked herself into bed, where she stared at the ceiling for several hours, replaying everything.

Arriving in Diagon Alley the next day felt like Apparating directly into a battlefield. Hermione was skittish and looking over her shoulder the entire walk to the store. She was terrified of the idea of running into Malfoy, but secretly hoping she would.

When she turned onto Horizont Alley, she scurried across the street to Foxglove and Belladonna, not daring to look over her shoulder. It wasn't until she was inside the shop with the door firmly shut behind her that she darted a glance across the cobblestones.

Black Apothecary's lanterns were lit, but no one was in the doorway, glaring at her. She breathed a sigh of relief, but she still couldn't pull herself from the window.

She could just make out Malfoy's blond head, shining in the lamplight. He was at the register, looking down at a book.

She had the sudden urge to know what he was reading. What did he fill his head with before the business day? Was it something to distract himself? Did he always read in the morning? Did his book choice reflect his mood, like hers?

She watched him pluck up a quill, dip it in his inkpot, and start scribbling in his book.

Hermione realized it must be his bookkeeping, not a novel. He was looking at his numbers first thing in the morning, before the store opened. Remorse hit her like an arrow. She was the "larger grocery store across the street," giving him problems. Nick's grandfather's shop that meant the world to him… was suffering.

And Hermione would normally have cheered to hear this about Malfoy. But Nick…

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, and she watched it fall across his forehead again. The strands caught the light. She'd told Ginny the truth — she did think he was attractive. If Nick had looked anything like Malfoy, she'd have been head over heels for him. It was the fact that he was Malfoy that was the problem.

"Alright, Hermione?"

She jumped. Neville was coming down from upstairs, watching her closely.

"I didn't know you were already in!" She laughed. "Yes, um… I was just checking to see if Malfoy was… open."

Neville blinked at her. "Oh. Was he going to start opening at nine?"

Hermione winced. "No, I didn't think so. I just…" She cleared her throat and changed the subject. "How was your evening?"

"Good," he said, and immediately blushed. "I… Well, Luna and I had a drink."

She smiled brightly. "Neville, that's brilliant! Did it go well?"

He nodded sheepishly, and started to give her the barest details. She loved this for them, and it gave her the perfect opportunity to distract herself.

When the shop opened at ten, she flipped the sign in the window and opened the door. Across the street, Malfoy was doing the same. Her heartbeat stuttered. He did it without magic, which she thought was odd. Was it something he focused on? To not use magic if he didn't have to? She knew he had his wand still.

She was still gazing at him when his head tilted up and he caught sight of her. She almost waved at him, she was so shocked to be seen staring. Malfoy's eyes hardened, and he retreated inside.

Hermione felt a stab in her chest. Nick's eyes hardened. Nick felt that way at the mere sight of her.

Before she could think too much about it, she said, "Neville, watch the shop for a moment?" and followed her feet across the street. The stones felt wobbly under her.

She stepped through the threshold of Black Apothecary, and again she felt that warmth and welcoming. It was possibly an enchantment. She'd have to look into it.

Malfoy was back at the counter, just about to pick up his quill again. He sneered at her. "What is it?"

Her heart thumped in her throat. "Good morning," she said. "I just wanted to… to apologize for last night." She took a shaking breath. "I was antagonistic for no good reason. And I'm sorry."

He stared at her, eyes drifting over every inch of her face, as if looking for the game. He said nothing in return.

Hermione stepped further inside, gaze catching on the plants that had grown more leaves since the last time she was in the shop… as "Jane" but not Jane. Merlin, had he thought she was his Jane then? He must have.

He quickly closed his bookkeeping as she got closer. He didn't trust her, and that made sense.

"How did your date go? Was she everything you hoped for?" Hermione tried a smile. She was flying a bit too close to the sun, but she couldn't stop herself.

He sighed, as if she were a child bothering him. She watched his throat click.

"It was wonderful, thank you. She's perfect."

Hermione's breath caught. She nodded tightly. "Glad to hear it. Will you see her again?"

"What do you want, Granger?" he asked sharply.

She had no idea. Looking down at her hands, she wondered if she could tell him. How would he react? Was this the right time? The right place?

"I wanted to apologize—"

"And you have." His voice was like ice. "What else can I do for you?"

She got lost for a moment in his hard gaze. It was different from the way he used to look at her at Hogwarts, she realized. She was beneath him, then. Now… she was a pebble in his shoe. An irritant that you couldn't wait to be rid of.

She wondered if she could change his mind. She wondered if she wanted to.

A sudden excuse came to her. "I guess I was going to offer… if there's anything you need to know about the Muggle world, I'd be happy to help."

His brows pinched together. "What?"

She stepped back from the counter. "Since you're dating a Muggle girl, you might get stuck on some term or reference. And if you needed help with it, I'm here."

He stared at her like she'd sprouted wings. He said nothing in thanks, so she gave him a friendly wave and exited the store as quickly as possible without running.

When she came into Foxglove and Belladonna, there were four customers inside already, compared to the zero at Black Apothecary. She excused herself to the office, locked and silenced it, and screamed into her hands for thirty seconds before slapping her cheeks and returning to the sales floor with a smile.

By the end of the day, she'd counted six customers that had come into Black Apothecary, compared to her forty-seven. And Malfoy had been tucked over the books whenever he was alone, which sometimes was hours on end.

On Sunday, Neville pulled her aside. "I have some… news. And I'm afraid to tell you."

Her eyes widened. "Afraid? You're afraid of me?"

"Well, yeah," he said with a shrug. "You did Petrify me for several hours when we were eleven—"

"Yes, yes, alright," Hermione said, waving her hand. "What's the news?"

"Um… Professor Sprout is retiring. And McGonagall offered Herbology to me."

Hermione felt a jolt go through her. Her first instinct was to convince him not to take it. She couldn't do this on her own. Besides, she had an appointment on Monday with the Hogsmeade historical society to see about opening a location of Foxglove and Belladonna there. Who would run that location? She'd always thought Neville…

But he was looking at her through hopeful eyes, almost bracing himself for her refusal.

How could she refuse him? She didn't have that authority.

"Neville, that's wonderful!" she said, grasping his arm. "What an absolute dream come true!"

His relief was palpable. "Yeah," he said, breathing out. "I think… I think I'd like to take it."

Hermione nodded a bit too eagerly. "Yes. Yes, you must. You'll need to be there the last week of August?"

He winced. "Actually, the second. Because I'm new I'd need to—"

"Of course!" she said brightly. "That makes perfect sense."

Her heart was racing, and her smile felt like melted wax. It was 1 August. She only had two weeks to replace him.

"I was thinking," he started, "that customers would decrease a bit by then. And I would of course help you find a new assistant."

Hermione was doing math in her head. Training a new assistant could take up to a full month, but she hardly needed one. It was just the fact that she had to finish her licensing program to become a Master Potioneer by the time Horace left… and then she'd need to be brewing during the day after that… but also, she supposed she could brew at night. It would be just like Hogwarts — three hours of sleep suited her fine—

"Hermione," Neville said, shaking her out of her thoughts. "It will be alright. I promise."

"Of course!" She smiled brightly. "And Neville, I'm so, so happy for you. Truly."

Neville gave her a charming half-grin and set to closing the shop.

At home, Hermione paced around her living room, staring at the computer. She'd been trying to wrap her head around the new circumstances of Neville's departure for the past hour, and the only thing she wanted was to ask Nick for his advice.

But that meant… asking Draco Malfoy for his advice… about her shop… that was putting him out of business.

That didn't seem fair.

Hermione bit her nails, something she hadn't done since third year when she was running around the school like a maniac, trying to juggle several different lives. She tugged her fingers out of her mouth and plopped herself in the chair.

Subject: My turn for advice

Dear Nick,

Have you ever looked into the future and seen yourself spread too thin? I got some news today that reshapes my vision for the rest of the year. Things are going well at the store, but I can see my grasp slipping. I'll be making my own clothes soon, and that will take away from the time running the store.

On top of this, my assistant will be leaving in two weeks.

I guess I wondered how good you were at time management.

Thinly yours,

Jane

Subject: re: My turn for advice

Dear Jane,

I feel exactly the same, so I'm not sure how much help I'll be. In school, I would create schedules and charts for my time, but I feel like you must be looking for more than that.

Can you hire someone to replace your assistant? Maybe someone who just knows the register so you can focus? Hmmm…

Unhelpfully yours,

Nick

Hermione frowned at the screen. Knowing that it was Malfoy talking to her was confusing. Malfoy created schedules and charts for his time in school? She couldn't envision it. But she guessed that having Quidditch practice in addition to his top grades would have been difficult.

Perhaps he scheduled in time to be an absolute ass to her. That made more sense.

She shook her head. No, she couldn't think ill of him anymore. Not if she wanted to stay sane.

Before she could reply, another email came in, like an afterthought.

Subject: re: re: My turn for advice

What about making clothes in the store? Where everyone can watch? Hmm. Perhaps a bit too like a taffy shoppe… children pressing their greasy faces against the window, their tongues lolling.

Hermione laughed. A taffy shoppe. She envisioned it for a moment. She could remodel the upstairs to be the laboratory. She'd have to clear permits with the Ministry, but that would be months away regardless.

She felt a stab of guilt that she'd emailed Malfoy to begin with, so she followed up.

Subject: re: re: re: My turn for advice

Nick,

How is your grocery store? I hope the big bad supermarket is playing nicely.

Hopefully yours,

Jane

Subject: re: re: re: re: My turn for advice

Jane,

Not too good unfortunately. Business is slow, and much slower than this time last year — by about fifty percent.

I will probably be closed by the end of September.

Woefully yours,

Nick

Hermione's stomach dropped. She hated this. She hated feeling responsible for this, and she hated feeling like she'd just tricked Malfoy into telling her this information.

She ran her hands through her hair, and then responded with her apologies. She made a promise to herself that she wouldn't take advantage of this information in any way.

For Nick's sake.