The Sweetest Downfall

No Time For Love

Hermione voiced her agreement and then returned her attention to reread the suspect's profile. Even though she had written it herself, there was still a possibility that she had overlooked a tiny detail.

As the three went off into a silence, Harry looking disapprovingly at the long list of victims, Ron eating another sandwich as he read an archive of one of the suspect's sons, the few minutes of independent work were disturbed by a knocking on the door. Whoever was on the other side, they didn't wait for Hermione's call to enter.

"Hello, you three." At the door, dressed to impress with a very flirty, knee-length cocktail dress, was a smiling Ginny. "All business in here as usual, I see."

Even though Ron nor Hermione seemed entirely pleased to see the redheaded woman, Harry couldn't fight off the giant smile on his face even if he tried. Though he was stressed to no end with this case, there was never a moment that seeing Ginny did not do wonders for his mood.

"I thought I was meeting you at home?" Harry rose from his chair, embracing Ginny and giving her a quick peck to her lips. "It's not even seven yet."

"You are right, it isn't seven, Harry—it's eight now."

Harry let out a curse. "We lost our dinner reservations, haven't we? Hell. I'm sorry, Gin."

"I figured you were going to lose track of time, as it is customary of you, so I Flooed the restaurant. As soon as I mentioned Harry Potter, the manager was quick to reserve his best table all night long for us." Ginny smirked at Harry's sour, uncomfortable expression. "Come off it, you love it there."

Harry grumbled at the unwanted attention he was still getting in his twenty-six years of age. He hadn't done anything remarkable since Voldemort, yet the world was keen in treating him like he was the Queen of England.

"You'll join us for dinner, won't you, Hermione?" At the mention of her name, the brunette glanced up to see Ginny staring at her expectantly. "Ron is going, along with what's-her-face. Not to mention Oliver Wood will be there, and you know he's had his eye on you for a long time."

Ron glared at his sister. "First of all, her name is Tracey Davis, not what's-her-face," Ginny rolled her eyes at this, "and you never mentioned Wood would be there."

"Does it matter?" instigated Ginny.

"Of course it does! I don't want to sit through dinner with that git!"

Hermione let out a low groan at Ron's echoing shout. She placed the file she'd been examining onto her desk, and used her hands to rub circles on her temples. She'd been having a headache all bloody day, and it was certainly getting worse with Ron and his old grudges hanging around.

Long ago, back when the end of war was fresh, she and Ronald decided to try a relationship. Everything seemed promising, seeing how close they'd grown and the blooming love they felt since before the war had commenced. It seemed right at the time, sort of destined in a way. She knew that a relationship with Ron would be tricky, considering how often they argued, but she thought her love for him could overcome that. She was wrong, of course.

Around when they were twenty-one, after four years of dating, Hermione could no longer keep her frustration silent with him, and their rowing began. Little by little, the relationship started falling apart. Before total devastation, Oliver Wood became quite a good friend of Ginny's, spending some nights with the Golden Trio and the Weasleys, and he'd shown interest in Hermione—a respectful kind of interest. Being the hot-head that he was, Ron didn't take that harmless interest well. No longer able to handle his jealousy or brooding, Hermione ended their relationship. Since then, Ron had been convinced that a tiny part of Hermione decided to break up with him because she fancied Oliver. Although Ron and her were in good terms now, still best friends despite it all, he was still touchy on the subject and it still annoyed Hermione to no end.