A/N: Hey guys! Okay, sorry it took so long for this one, but it took me a while to figure out what to put in this chapter. I think of all the upcoming chapters, this one is definitely the most boring and action-less. If you guys end up bored halfway through this one, I don't blame you and will not take any offense. I only hope that you'll stay for the next one, cause that's gonna be much easier to write. All the good stuff starts next chapter, all right? So please stay! I love you guys! So try and enjoy this one! Oh, and you guys were right, Hermione doesn't really curse, but in extreme situations, she's been known to curse and, worse, drink, as you'll find out in this chapter. That's just how I see her. If you don't agree, I'm sorry! That's how my story goes though.

And thanks to all of you who reviewed my first chapter! I'm glad you guys like it so far! Keep it up!

Lauren

Disclaimer: JK never has to apologize to her readers for crappy chapters!

Chapter Two

Meeting For the First Time…Again

Hermione found herself faced with someone she hadn't seen or spoken to in exactly 3 years, four months, 2 weeks and 5 days. Ronald Weasley was standing only feet away from her, and the only thing between them now was…well, Mr. Abernathy's desk. As Hermione's face contorted into a look of grotesque shock, Ron smiled.

"Well, it's just great to see you again too, Mio-Miss Granger," he said, catching himself. Hermione threw him a dangerous look, but Ron smiled even bigger, as though taunting her, which only made her gasp. Mr. Abernathy turned around to look at her.

"Well, don't you have anything to say to Mr. Weasley? The man you'll be working with the next few weeks? Come on Hermione, you and I both know you can handle this. You might not be used to having a partner from another department, but really, I think I know what I am doing. You trust me, don't you?" he asked, and this time Hermione was too flustered to notice his dancing chin. She crossed her arms over her chest and sat into a chair behind her.

"I see no reason why I can't do this assignment on my own, to be honest. You've seen my work, you know I can handle myself!" she snapped, realizing how immature she sounded, but she didn't care. There was no way she was working with Ron, no way in hell.

"Hermione, I know what you're capable of, yes I've seen all your work, of course I know you can handle yourself! I just think that in this particular area, you could use some assistance from someone who, whether you'd like to admit it or not, may know more than you in this field! That's all, Hermione. I know you have an issue with pride or something, but you have got to get over it, and now! I don't think our American counterparts will be very impressed if you can't even work with a partner without your ego getting in the way, do you?" Mr. Abernathy said, and Hermione fell silent. Ron watched on apprehensively as Hermione felt her face grow hot, but she rested her hands in her lap and sighed. When she looked up at Mr. Abernathy, her eyes showed a glint of steel.

"No, I don't, you're absolutely right, Mr. Abernathy," she said a bit shamefully. "I'll be ready by 7:45 tomorrow morning. Can I expect to see you at Gloucester Field at that time?" she said, speaking to Ron for the first time. Ron, at this gesture, looked a bit taken aback, and cleared his throat.

"Oh, um, yes. Yes, I'll be there at 7:45, Gloucester Field," he said, touching the collar of his shirt nervously. Mr. Abernathy chuckled.

"There, that's more like it! I knew you'd be all right, Hermione. You're team will be there at 7:45 as well, so no need to worry there. Both of you, get a good night's rest, so you can be ready for tomorrow!" he said, shaking Hermione's hand, and then Ron's. Ron looked at Hermione, as if asking to shake her hand. Looking him straight in the eye, Hermione grasped his hand roughly and shook it. Ron smirked back, and as soon as he let go, she spun around and left down the hallway in a huff.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione was rushing down the busy streets of London, pushing her way through the crowd walking down the sidewalk until she reached her destination. She pushed open a large oak door that creaked under the pressure, then let it swing back closed as she entered the dimly lit room. She walked straight over to the long bar at the front of the room and slid into a stool. The bartender idled over, a rag in one hand and a martini glass in the other.

"Well, what a surprise, seeing you in here," the man said, running a hand through his balding hair. Hermione grinned sheepishly, but his action made her think of Ron. Distracting herself from awkward thoughts, she glanced around the room in search of something.

"Oh, your friend's not here yet, Hermione," the bartender said, reading her thoughts.

"Oh, right," she said, chuckling.

"Anything I can get you while you wait?"

"No thanks, I'll just wait till she gets here…"

When Hermione's friend Heather walked in fifteen minutes later, Hermione was halfway through her third Cosmopolitan and playing with a dish of olives. Heather slipped into the stool next to her and hung her purse on the knob of the chair.

"Well, looks like I've got some catching up to do, doesn't it?" she joked, picking up one of Hermione's olives and popping it into her mouth. "Hey Martin! The usual, please," she said to the man behind the bar. Martin winked, then disappeared behind the bar.

"Wow, must be some emergency, you're actually consuming alcohol," Heather said with a wry grin, picking out another olive as Hermione drained her Cosmopolitan.

"Well, I've just been given another assignment," she said darkly, plopping her glass on the bar, "and guess where I get to go?"

"Hmm…I have no idea, where?"

"Mmm, Gloucester Field," she said, sticking an olive on her pinky finger before gnawing it off.

"Ooh, exciting, can I assume this is quidditch related then?" Heather said, taking her very dry martini from Martin's large hand and taking a sip. Hermione nodded.

"Oh yes, yes you can. Knowing that, can you guess who I get to work with?" Hermione asked gravely.

"Hmm…quidditch related eh? So, obviously it's someone from Magical Games and Sports…haha, you know what I just thought? It'd be hysterical if you had to work with that Ron Weasley bloke, don't you think? I mean, wow. Now he is cute, very, very cute," Heather spouted, resting her chin on her hand and staring at the bar, deep in thoughts of Ron. Hermione laughed bitterly and asked Martin for a refill.

"Well, get ready to laugh, cause that's exactly who it is."

Heather looked up into Hermione's face, expecting her lips to crack into a joking smile at any moment, but realized that this was serious. She clasped her hand over her mouth and began to giggle, while Hermione looked at her reproachfully.

"Are you serious? Ron? Ronald Weasley? Oh my god, you're not joking, are you? Oh dear," Heather said, keeping as straight a face as possible. Hermione growled.

"I mean, I tried telling Abernathy that I know exactly what I'm doing and that I don't need the help, but he wouldn't hear it! It was ridiculous, the way Ron was looking at me today, I could have sworn he was taunting me or something. Grr, what nerve he had, smiling at me like that, I could have hit him," she said, taking her next drink and setting it on the bar.

"Wait, you saw him today?!" Heather exclaimed, surprised.

"Well, yeah, I went back to Abernathy's office to retort his demands and there he was, just standing in Abernathy's office like a child or something. It was completely unexpected, you have no idea," she said, and she took a long sip from her glass. Heather watched her and smiled furtively.

"Well, was he cute?" she asked.

"What? Are you sure we're talking about the same Ron Weasley?" Hermione asked, stifling a laugh.

"Herm, don't try to deny the fact that he's attractive, because you, me, and the whole of the Ministry of Magic know exactly how damn cute he is, all right?" Heather said, chewing on an olive and grinning uncontrollably. Hermione, who had been taking a sip of her drink, spit into her glass.

"Wait, wait a second…you're joking, right? Wow…I cannot believe you just said that, I'm starting to feel a bit sick just thinking about it," Hermione said, and Heather started laughing hysterically.

"Oh come on, don't lie, he's cute and you know it! And he's definitely um, experienced," Heather said, sipping her martini with a knowing grin. Hermione choked on an olive.

"What? Heather, what exactly do you mean by that?" she asked, her cheeks turning red. "Wait, don't tell me, I get the feeling I don't want to know…" she said, taking a long swallow from her glass. Heather giggled revealingly.

"Oh Hermione, it was nothing you wouldn't do, trust me. But really, he is quite talented…"

"Oh really, and when did you um, come to experience this?" Hermione asked, smiling but growing a little uncomfortable and holding her left ring finger.

"Hmm, well, you know our annual Christmas party?"

Hermione needed know no more. She smiled and immediately asked Martin for yet another refill. Heather didn't notice the look of disdain on Hermione's face.

"So, is anything, you know, happening with you two?" she asked uncomfortably.

"Oh no, it was just a one-time thing, you know, that's all," Heather responded, fiddling with her cocktail napkin. "I would never think of anything happening with Ron, he's really not my type anyway."

"Oh, certainly not , not at all," Hermione said, comforting herself. "I certainly don't think he could be anybody's type, really."

"Not like Don. Now he's definitely your type, am I right?"

Hermione twirled the three-carat diamond that nearly floated above her left ring finger and smiled.

"Yes, you are quite right, he certainly is."

At exactly 6:15 the next morning, Hermione rolled over in her bed and slapped her hand down on the blaring alarm clock. She rubbed her eyes, stretched her legs, and sat up. She pulled back the covers and, just before stepping onto the floor, pressed her lips to the mop-headed Don, who in turn grumbled something that sounded a little like "no, Mom, I don't like potatoes." Outside the window, the cheery (through rain-soaked) citizens of London strolled down the soppy streets. Hermione sighed, remembering the day that lay ahead.

Exactly an hour and fourteen minutes later, Hermione stood in the middle of the living room, briefcase in hand. Don walked out of the kitchen to say goodbye and nearly dropped his coffee mug.

"Wow, Hermione…taking my advice after all, are you?" he asked, eyeing her in awe.

"Advice? What advice?"

"You know, when I told you to flirt with what's-his-face…uh, never mind. All I can say is, I wish you dressed up like that for me once in a while," he said, smirking. Hermione looked down at her outfit, but didn't see anything noteworthy: just a pair of three-inch white and red heels and a dress suit. She looked back up at Don questioningly.

"Don, I have no idea what you're talking about, there's nothing out of the ordinary here," she said with a playful yet earnest smile. Don chuckled.

"All right, well, whatever you say. You look beautiful, Hermione, you really do, be careful with that. And good luck, I know you'll do just fine," he said, walking over to her and hugging her tightly (yet mindful of his mug… he had had quite a few mishaps in the past concerning farewell hugs and coffee spills.)

"Thanks, I sure hope so. I'll see you tonight then?" she asked.

"Of course, tonight," he responded, but Hermione's mind was too busy reeling to notice the slightly exasperated tone with which he answered her. She flashed him a smile, and with a snap, she was gone.

She arrived just moments later in a rather large building, with aisles and aisles of ticket booths and turnstiles, and assumed she was in the entrance to the stadium. She headed through the turning doors and outside, where the first thing she saw across the field was…

Okay, here we go… "Ron, I hope you realize that this is a completely professional relationship, and I am only here on my own will to get this job done, so…" ah, no. No no no… "Ron, ahem, I mean Mr. Weasley, I just want to get a couple of things straight: our working relationship will be based on just that: work, and nothing else."

The walk across that field felt like it took ages, and wasn't helped by the racing thoughts in Hermione's head. As she approached them, she saw a group of people, most of whom she recognized as her co-workers and now, apparently, the members of her crew. Standing a bit taller than the rest was Ron, and as soon as she acknowledged this, she felt a knot tighten in her throat.

Okay, okay… "Good morning, Mr. Weasley, how are you? Are we ready to set up? Do we know when the subjects are arriving?" Alright, I'm ready. I think…

"Well, here goes nothing," she whispered to herself.

"Morning, Hermione," came a voice turning the corner. Hermione gripped the handle of her bag and nearly tripped over herself.

"RON! Um, good morning, how are you?" she asked, adjusting her skirt and taking a deep breath. Ron looked down at her (from his comfortable perch of 6'2) and chuckled.

"Me? Oh, I'm wonderful, and how are you?"

"Fine, thanks, just fine. So where is everyone else? Are we waiting for them, or are we ready to set up?" she asked, straightening up and becoming quite professional. Ron laughed even harder.

"What? What are you laughing at?" she asked, feeling put out.

"Um, nothing. It's nothing, just…you look nice today," he said, changing the subject. Hermione looked down at her attire and suddenly, as though having a revelation, inhaled sharply.

"Oh, uh, thank you, thank you," she said, and she turned away self-consciously.

Fortunately for Hermione, the remainder of her crew had begun crossing the lawn and was almost across the field. Hermione looked up with a smile.

"There you all are, I was beginning to worry," she said.

"Miss Granger, always worrying about something, aren't you. Well, well, Weasley, haven't seen you around these parts lately, nice to see you again," said a man wearing a large fedora and carrying an overstuffed briefcase. He set it down at the edge of the grass and it popped open at once. From it sprang a large table, complete with a tablecloth and a plate of cookies. Hermione regarded it improper to offer sweets at a time like the one at hand, but didn't mention it. Instead, as the others began setting up their respective goods, she grabbed Ron's arm and pulled him around the corner.

"I do hope you understand that this is completely professional: we are both here to do a job, and that job only. Anything that happened is irrelevant and will stay in the past, so whatever you had in mind--"

"Hermione, I'm only here because I was instructed to be here, and I will have to do so for the next two weeks, after which I will go home, and after that onto my next assignment, and so on and so forth. I'm not here to stalk you, or harass you, and I agree that the past will most certainly remain the past, so please, have no fear. I promise, I'll be good." He gave her one of his crooked smiles and, as Hermione began to feel quite foolish, walked away toward the others to help them finish setting up. Hermione stood alone, watching silently.

"Hmm, wonderful job, Hermione, good show," she mumbled to herself.

Okay guys, review please! I promise the next chapter will be more exciting, so please hang in there! I just had to establish this stuff first, it'll get interesting from here, really! So please review!!