Always Something There to Remind Me

Christine often despaired of buying anything decent in shops which sold new robes. Many of the styles were far too ... something. They were not right. Not for her and she would find herself back in this jumbled mess of a shop. If she'd owned such a gem of a place she certainly would have made more sense of it. Placing everything in a grouping.

And yet when she actually went looking she would find herself enjoying the hunt for something special. Something which the well ordered shop in her mind would never provide. She moved past a few old Quidditch robes and found herself down another aisle following a faint hint of orange blossom. It wasn't something she'd ever experienced in this place before. Usually it smelt of musty old clothes and colognes and a little extra hint of history. This one gave her a prickling of wetness in her eyes.

She stopped and delicately sniffed the air again. Yes. It was there. Christine turned and stopped. A lovely feminine set of robes were on display in front of her. So old fashioned and perfect. "Orange blossom," she whispered and touched the soft material lightly. "Do you not believe this smells of love?" she asked a nearby customer. It did and Christine wiped away at the tear in her eye. "Oh dear. The dust must be playing with my sinuses," she remarked.