AN: Now featuring a Cinderalla-esque subplot nobody wanted :)

Hermione sent an owl to Rita Skeeter with instructions to publish the note enclosed in its entirety.

Dear Miss Skeeter,

I am hoping you may assist me in a rather delicate matter. I would like the letter below published in the next edition of the Daily Prophet. Please do not change or make any additions to the piece. I have contacted you as it will make for a rather juicy piece of gossip for your readers and I know how you can never resist having the best.

Sincerely, Josiah Blane

A separate piece of parchment had the article she wished to have published.

Dear Miss Delacour,

I wish you do not begrudge me for trying to contact you in such a public manner, but as you left last Friday without a way to contact you, I was left with few alternatives. I hope these feelings are not merely one-sided as I had enjoyed our time together that evening and have spent the past week searching for you. Unfortunately, there was no luck to be had in locating you. I do so wish you were more than a figment of my imagination as I am dreadfully uncreative and you are a work of God himself. I could spend the rest of this letter praising your beauty and your intellect, would you like that? I fear I could spend days on such a subject as I have grown lonely without your company. I would spend the rest of my life searching for you if only to gaze upon your eyes once more, there is no doubt the feelings I have for you. If you were not just a mere hallucination brought on by too much loneliness, I pray that you will contact me as I'm sure you know how.

I will be awaiting you.

Ever yours, Josiah Blane.

Hermione folded up the parchment and tied it to the leg of a tawny owl that had taken up residence on her desk as she wrote. She didn't spend long admiring her work as she knew if anyone caught her with such incriminating evidence, she'd never live the embarrassment down. And though she had no doubt about her feelings for the blonde, she was slightly embarrassed at how quickly they had been brought on.

After the owl had taken flight, she attempted to get back to work, though it was to no avail, she spent most of her time doodling on the papers in front of her, her mind currently wandering in search of the French witch.

A plain black owl swooped down and chirped at her, a note tied to its leg. She looked at the owl cautiously, unable to recognize it and unsure of who had written her when it chirped again, angrily this time as its patience was wearing thin. It hopped closer to her and stuck its leg out, demanding that she take it, which she did with an unsteady hand.

The owl took off without waiting for a reply and Hermione checked it over, looking for any sign of curse or hex. Upon finding none, she unrolled the parchment, finding it to be a rather short letter from Bill's ex, Ashleigh.

Hermione,

Bill contacted me regarding your issue the other day. I have found out some information, however I'm unsure if it will be of much use by the time you receive this. Fleur is a Veela, and from what I can tell, she and her sister Gabrielle are the last of the Delacour clan. They used to be quite prominent but, there is little information on this subject, something happened and my clan had thought they had all died years ago. If she is in fact from this clan, my grandmother warns, you should be very careful. Obviously, if you are looking into her, you are aware that she is nothing but trouble. However, the Delacours were shall we say, loose in their usage of their thrall.

Something that you may not know is that the thrall works as well as it does by creating an addiction in its target, the more they use it, the stronger the addiction until eventually, they die. Fleur will have no apprehension with using it to get what she wants.

Please, Hermione, be careful around her, your life may depend on it.

"Shit," Hermione breathed out upon finishing her letter, she had read it many times over, but the words never changed, there they were in black and white, and she once again scratched absently at her side. That pesky feeling had only gotten worse.

Knowing what that meant, she tried harder than ever to focus on her work. But the only work she could focus on was the case at hand, her notes had been added to with the new information she had received from Ashleigh. But despite this, she found herself decided she would risk whatever it took if it meant she could see Fleur again. All her hope was put into that letter she had sent, and she spent the rest of her workday twirling her quill in her hand, staring at a blank piece of parchment in front of her.

The next morning, Hermione sat at her kitchen table at her home in the countryside, she had found she quite enjoyed the peace and quiet and rather hated the city, when her copy of the Daily Prophet was dropped off, the tiny brown owl swooping in and out without pause. She quickly opened it, looking for Skeeter's column, hoping she would see her letter. She did, below a nice paragraph added on by Skeeter herself, which she had to admit was better than it could have been. Though it certainly wasn't flattering.

Our bachelor who was looking for love, seems to have found it last Friday, explaining his sudden disappearance from the spotlight. He seems to rather enjoy pining for his lost love who seems to have disappeared much like Cinderella herself but this time she didn't even leave behind a shoe. Miss Fleur Delacour, whoever you may be, where ever you are, know that you are the envy of thousands of witches all over Britain, any one of which would be more than willing to replace you should you not respond.

"Well," Hermione thought, "I certainly hope this works." And with a small pop, she disapparated.

Paper still in hand, she walked into work, a small smile playing upon her lips, a light skip in her step. She was still going to have to play the waiting game, but she felt confident about this. Though she froze in her step when she opened the door to her 'office' and saw Harry already sitting at her desk.

He smiled up at her and she braced herself for the teasing that was to come as she made her way over to him.

"It does certainly read like you found love Friday. Did you really write that letter?"

A blush quickly colored Hermione's cheeks as she mumbled "Yes," turning away from Harry so as to hide her embarrassment.

Harry turned her back around and looked her in the eyes, "Don't be shy 'Mione, we'll figure something out. You can't help who you love."

She looked at him questioningly which he quickly remedied, "You know I'd never planned on loving Ginny, I mean, she was Ron's little sister, and remember how obsessed she was in our second year?"

Hermione nodded.

"Life just has a way of surprising us sometimes. If you want I'll help you find her."

She stood there silently as he patted her on the shoulder before walking out of the office and back to his own, a slight swagger in his step.

A couple days passed with no news from the blonde to either her or Josiah. Harry and Ron had been by a couple times, checking in with her, running new plans through, not that she could remember, or focus all that well on them, though the mention of Fleur had definitely made her perk up. Her work was slipping and she knew it wasn't fair that they had stepped up to pick up her slack and make it look as though her attention was undivided when it came to catching Aphrodite.

Thursday however had a surprise in store for Hermione as she was sitting at her desk, once again twirling her quill, when Harry walked in a small brown rectangle in his hand. He dropped it on her desk in front of her saying it had been delivered to Grimmauld Place and walked off, a knowing glint in his eyes.

Her fingers shook as she scrambled to open the small letter, beautifully flowing cursive spelling out "My dearest Josiah" on the front, a wax seal with an ornately stylized D on the back. It hurt her to have to break open the seal to read the letter, a task that had given her pause before she decided she had to know the contents more than she wanted to preserve the letter.

Josiah,

I hope this letter finds you in a better condition than I had left you in. I apologize for leaving you as quickly as I did, though we both know what the circumstances were. As such, though I find your letter quite touching, I am unsure as to whether or not I should trust the sincerity of your words. Perhaps you are trying to save face? However, I am touched by your actions and if you are in fact being truthful, I will agree to meet with you. Friday at 5 pm, meet me at the Leaky Cauldron. I expect you to be alone and with a single white rose placed by your right hand. If you do not, you will not see me, nor will you hear from me again. I do not give second chances.