From the moment Ron learnt that Harry and Malfoy had been speaking with Kingsley, he knew they would be complaining about him. And the press conference only confirmed his suspicions as it was clear that not only had they been complaining about him, but they'd been discussing the case and taking action Ron should have known about as the lead investigator. As such, Ron was expecting to be hauled over the coals by Kingsley when they returned to the Ministry, but he had no intention of lying down and taking whatever the Minister was going to throw at him. He was going to fight his corner and deny whatever malicious allegations Harry and Draco had tried to throw his way.

"Sit down, Ronald," Kingsley said sternly when they entered his office. "We've got a few things to discuss."

"Like decisions being made on my case without anyone informing me?" Ron snapped. "Shouldn't I have been told about a public appeal? As the officer in charge, I should have made the appeal."

"Normally, that would have been the way things worked," Kingsley admitted. "But you're being taken off the case."

"Taken off the case?" Ron echoed in disbelief. Even though he'd expected some sort of complaint had been made against him, he'd at least expected the opportunity to defend himself, and he'd certainly never expected to be taken off the case. "They can't do that."

"Who can't do that?" Kingsley asked.

"Harry and Malfoy," Ron spat. "They can't walk in here and demand I'm taken off their case."

"And why not? If a member of the public, or in this case two members of the public, are unhappy with a service the Ministry is providing them with, they have the right to complain. And I'm sorry to say Ron, but that is exactly what has happened. I have a formal complaint about you sitting on my desk."

"A formal complaint?" Ron gulped, panic starting to set in. Any complaint was bad, but he'd thought Harry and Draco had just spoken to Kingsley, he had no idea that they'd made their complaint formal, which automatically made it more serious.

"Yes, I'm sorry Ron, but I have no choice but to suspend you pending an internal inquiry," Kingsley said sombrely.

"I cannot be suspended simply because Harry and Malfoy don't like the fact I'm in charge of their case," Ron argued vehemently. "I have handled the case as I would any other."

"The thing is, Ron, it's not your handling of the case that's the problem," Kingsley explained. "I do think there's an issue with you not doing an appropriate background check on Draco's business, but that's a minor infringement, and would only earn you a warning, and a reminder to tick all the boxes on future cases. The main problem is the article that appeared in this morning's papers."

"What the hell? They can't blame me for my wife doing her job," Ron hissed. "This is discrimination. I will fight this with everything I have, Kingsley. I will not let them bastards get away with this."

"The issue isn't with the fact your wife wrote an inaccurate article," Kingsley said, keeping calm in the face of Ron's growing anger. "As you saw for yourself, they are taking steps to deal with that problem. Their problem with you is that they believe you contributed to the article. They believe you supplied your wife with information."

"Poppycock," Ron snorted.

"So it's just a coincidence that Lavender hit on the fact Draco was back in the country just after you'd met with him?" Kingsley questioned.

"I may have mentioned it," Ron admitted. "But you can't expect me not to talk to my wife about my day. That is completely unreasonable."

"No-one is saying that Ron. But we do expect both you and Lavender to display a sense of discretion. You are trusted not to talk to anyone about confidential information you learn in your role as an M.L.E. officer."

"I never told Lavender anything confidential," Ron argued. "I would never do that."

"It is Draco's belief that you told your wife things she used in her article, things she couldn't have otherwise known."

"Bullshit. He can't prove anything."

"No, he can't," Kingsley agreed with a nod. "But he is very convincing. Firstly, there's the issue of your wife claiming Hermione was the family nanny. Draco believes the idea came from you, when you saw Hermione looking after her son. But the big issue is Draco and Hermione's son. No-one outside of close friends and family had seen him Ron, no-one but you. Yet, Lavender knew about his existence. You are going to have to explain these coincidences, Ron."

"And so what if I did tell Lavender about the Malfoy boy?" Ron demanded sharply. "It wasn't confidential information. I did not compromise myself or the M.L.E office."

"That remains to be seen," Kingsley snorted. "But from where I'm sitting, you're starting to look very untrustworthy, Ron. I cannot have members of the public scared to deal with my officers because they're unsure if what they tell you, or what you learn, will become public knowledge. I'm sorry, Ron, but you've backed yourself into a corner here, and I don't see how you're going to explain yourself to the satisfaction of the committee who will be in charge of your hearing."

"What will happen if I can't explain myself?" Ron asked. "Could I lose my job?"

"I don't think it will come to that," Kingsley admitted. "You're likely to be demoted, and there'll most certainly be a period of supervision in your future. And of course, this complaint will stay on your record and it will be considered if any other disciplinary action is taken against you."

"I can't believe this," Ron muttered with a shake of his head. He'd worked so hard to get to where he was, and he'd always thought he had a bright future ahead, but not everything was in jeopardy and he knew this could well haunt the rest of his career.

"You need to go home, Ron, and take a long, hard look at yourself," Kingsley ordered. "Whether you want to deny it or not, we both know the initial information for Lavender's article came from you. You cannot do things like that in your position. If you can't keep your personal and private life separate, maybe you need to think about a career change. You have half an hour to vacate the building, and you're not to step foot inside the Ministry until you attend your hearing. I'm sorry things have come to this, Ron. I always thought you were an officer I could trust."

Fuming at the injustice of it all, Ron stormed from Kingsley's office and headed to the M.L.E department to gather this things. Not wanting to stick around, he didn't bother to speak to anyone as he quickly grabbed his things and headed home. At home, he threw his belongings down in the corner of the room and poured himself a generous glass of fire-whisky. Drowning the liquid in one go, he poured a second glass and slumped down on the sofa, cursing his former friends and the Slytherin snakes they'd gotten entangled with.

000

At the same time Ron was being chastised by Kingsley, Lavender was being dragged into the editor-in-chief's office, alongside her editor on the society section. Only unlike Ron, Lavender was already fearing the worst, and worst of all she knew she had no defence for the article she had wrote. She'd believed in what she'd wrote whole-heartedly, and now it was proven to be false, there was nothing she could say that would justify her actions.

"I cannot believe this," the editor-in-chief, Duncan Stirling yelled, not bothering if anyone outside of the office could hear him. "This is a complete shambles. Who the hell let this happen? Wilson?"

Dick Wilson, the society editor, shook his head gravely. "I'm sorry, Duncan. I thought I could trust my staff."

"Funny, I thought the same thing," Stirling sneered. "Now the paper is facing a lawsuit all because no-one bothered to check their facts. And why was that, Lavender?" he demanded, turning his attention to the reporter who had brought this mess to his desk.

"I'm sorry, Sir," Lavender whispered. "I thought I had all the facts."

"And how could you possibly have thought that when everything you wrote was wrong?" Stirling demanded. "How can such a thing happen? Where did you get your information from?"

"Some of it came from old stories in The Prophet," Lavender answered, knowing full well that she wouldn't be allowed to leave until she'd at least tried to explain herself. "I knew Malfoy and Greengrass had been a couple and had left together. When I heard they were back, I assumed they were still together."

"And Potter and Granger?" Stirling demanded. "What made you think they were a couple? The article about those two being a couple read more like rumours."

"My husband used to be friends with the pair, and he knew they were together when they left," Lavender replied.

"I suppose I can understand your confusion on those matters," Stirling conceded, although his tone of voice didn't sound very understanding. "But where the hell did the nanny nonsense come from? Was Granger a nanny when she left the country?"

"No, but she'd expressed a desire to work with children," Lavender explained. "From what I'd learnt of her return, it seemed feasible to believe she was the Malfoys nanny."

"And it was feasible she was having an affair with her boss?" Stirling sneered. "An affair they were conducting in public. Alarm bells should have started to ring then, Lavender. But you were so caught up in your own narrative that you forget to even check the basic facts. I'm sorry, but I cannot keep you on staff after this. You are clearly not to be trusted, and I will not allow such shoddy journalism on my paper. You're fired."

"Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir," Lavender muttered.

"And as for you," Stirling snarled, turning on Lavender's immediate superior. "You're a waste of space. It is your job to check these stories. You should have checked this story had been verified. You never should have allowed anything like this to cross my desk, let alone push it for the front page. You're just as bad as she is. You're also fired. The pair of you have fifteen minutes to vacate these offices and never darken our door again. And don't bother asking for references, as they would be no use to you, not after I've had my say on your complete and utter incompetence."

With tears brimming in her eyes, Lavender rushed out of the editor-in-chief's office and hurried to her desk. That morning when she arrived every eye had been on her and she'd revelled in the attention, but now every eye was on her for a very different reason and Lavender hated every second of it. Not daring to look anyone in the eye, as she couldn't handle seeing their pity or worse still, their judgment of her incompetence, she hastily packed her things and fled from The Prophet's offices.

Only once she was outside, carrying a box stuffed with her things, did it truly hit her that she'd been sacked. She had no job, and worst of all, no prospects. At least not in journalism. No other paper or magazine would hire her, after today's events she would be a pariah. What she was going to do with her life now, Lavender had no idea, but she did know that she had to tell Ron what had happened.

Heading home, Lavender planned on dropping off her stuff and sending a message to her husband to see if he could come home early, but instead she found Ron slumped on the sofa, a half-empty bottle of fire-whiskey sitting on the floor beside him.

"What's wrong?" she asked, knowing it was unlike Ron to drink during the day.

"I've been bloody suspended," Ron sneered, his voice slurring slightly revealing that he'd already had a few drinks. "The bastard Malfoy and Harry have lodged a complaint against me."

"Will you lose your job?" Lavender asked shakily, not sure how they would cope if both she and Ron were out of work.

"No, but at the very least I'll be demoted," Ron muttered. "And even though Kingsley never said as much, my chances of promotion are now pretty much stuffed."

"At least you still have your job, which is more than can be said for me."

"The bastards fired you?" Ron demanded, shooting to his feet.

"Oh Ron, it was terrible," Lavender sobbed, throwing herself into her husband's arms. "Everything is ruined. I'll never write again."

"And all because of those so called friends of mine, and those Malfoy gits," Ron hissed. "They won't get away with this, Lavender."

"Ron, don't," Lavender said softly. "Don't start a war we can't win. Like it or not, we were wrong. We jumped to the wrong conclusions and now we're paying the price. But going after them won't change anything. it'll just make things harder for us."

"But they've destroyed us," Ron argued, pouting like a petulant child. "They've made all of this public and made us look like idiots. I can't forgive them for that."

"No-one is saying you should forgive them," Lavender said. "But don't let them take any more from us, Ron. We need to forget about them and move on with our lives."

"And how do we do that? They've lost you your job and created plenty of trouble for me at mine."

"The important thing is that you still have a job," Lavender said. "And since I've no longer got a job, I've got plenty of time to raise a family. Maybe it's time we had that baby we've been talking about."

"Yeah, that would be good," Ron agreed.

But even as he smiled at his wife, he was still fuming. Their lives had still been torn apart, and he would never forgive those who had orchestrated it. What he just couldn't see that the only people to blame for their predicament was him and Lavender. They'd started it all, and they'd brought everything on themselves. They were the ones paying for the mistakes they'd made, and at the end of the day they had no-one to blame but themselves.