Landlocked

Chapter 2

by Bone Structure

"I think I'm in love, 'Mione!" After the last bell rang Ginny ran up to Hermione, crushing her ribs in a tight hug. "Number thirty… Is he looking at me now?" Ginny loosen her embrace and Hermione turned her head to look for the man in the crowd. "No, no! Don't look at him now! He'll catch you!" Ginny was actually giggling.

"Ginny, I hardly think you're in love after five minutes." Hermione rolled her eyes at the silliness of her friend, but also smiled, happy for Ginny's happiness.

The hostess came out and wildly rung her bell. "All right, everyone finish up your selections. Please seat yourselves while we collect and sort out your forms!" Hermione grabbed her giddy friend and took a seat at the nearest table.

"You didn't see this man. He was beautiful man, a bloody beautiful man. I died the second I saw him. I'm praying he chose me," Ginny handed her parchment to the hostess.

"If he's half a smart as you think he's attractive, he will have," Hermione put her hand on Ginny's arm, trying to calm the girl down. At the same time she began to gaze around the room, perhaps looking to see if a certain blond witch was still around.

"Damn right, he better have. Now, what about you? I saw that parchment of yours, number eighteen? I didn't see them."

"No one important," Hermione fibbed, "They were the lesser of all evils."

"In case anyone hasn't told you, you're a downer. You must have had at least twenty dates and you hated all of them? You're rotten. And picky."

"I get enough of that from Ronald now. Don't you start with that now."

Ginny was thankful to hear the hostess ring the bell again. She loved Hermione, but she also knew the girl could be insufferable when the mood hit.

"Alright, witches and wizards! Your selections have been sorted. At the flick of my wand, a number should appear on your hand. This is the person you have matched with. No number, no match. Sorry folks." The hostess flicked her wand and Hermione instantly felt a warm sensation run through her as the spell was cast on her. For a moment she hesitated, though she knew there was only one person with whom she could have been matched, and then she anxiously she opened her palm.

Nothing! Hermione open and closed her hand again and yet nothing appeared. She hadn't expected this. Bloody Fleur, she thought bitterly, I only picked her because she picked me! Leading me on…

" 'Mione, did you match?" Ginny asked, too busy looking at her own hand to notice the scowl on Hermione's face.

"This is ridiculous! The audacity of that woman!"

"Huh?" Ginny's eyebrows perked up.

Hermione didn't even hear her redheaded friend or see her confusion; she immediately stood up and went on a rampage, searching through the crowd for the source of her anger. She couldn't find the French witch anywhere. In her rage she walked out of The Forum and pulled out her wand. She knew precisely what to do.

Stoutly, Hermione muttered an incantation, and a blood-red envelope appeared in her hand.

X

Fleur was a few blocks away when Hermione was angrily recording her message. She had left The Forum not terribly long after her mini date with the younger witch. There had been a moment afterward, while she was watching Hermione from across the restaurant, when an idea had struck her. Perhaps it was something about the way Hermione's hair framed her face, or the way her jaw curved… but a tiny flame was light inside her. Suddenly the thought of Hermione brought a tiny smile to her face.

"Do you need any help?" An old man came out from behind the store counter. He walked over to Fluer, accidently bumping into a table on his way, almost knocking down a vase of flowers.

"Oh, yes. Please," Fleur smiled warmly at the old man. She had her hand out, gently touching a rose. "I want a flower. But this does not feel quite right. I do not think this is the one I want." Fleur let go of the rose.

"What is the occasion?" The old man slightly adjusted the orientation of a few flowers in front of him. Fleur took a good look at the man. He was short with glasses and a small scruffy beard. Something about his hand knit red sweater made him seem kind. She imagined him going home to a wonderful wife and a cozy fire.

"A spark," Fleur finally answered the man's question, after a moment of thought.

"A spark?" the old man's eyebrows perked up from under his thick glasses. There was a little look of curiosity in his face.

"Preciously," said Fleur standing firmly in her vague answer.

"I've never found a flower for a spark before. Many birthdays, weddings, anniversaries… never a spark."

Despite the oddness of the request, the old man went to work immediately. He disappeared between rows of flowers and came back with a white flower in hand. Although Fleur knew nothing of flowers, except the most common ones, she suspected it was a lily. The man looked at the lily and at Fluer, then back at the lily again. He muttered something under his breath, disappeared once more, and came back with a flower Fleur definitely recognized. It was a sunflower.


AN: Please forgive any grammatical errors for the moment. Excitement prevents me from being able to reread and edit properly. I will definitely go back and edit this later. Anyway, thank you guys kindly for reviews. It honestly makes my day to receive them and knowing that people are out there reading is definitely motivation. You guys are lovely.