A/N: Hey guys! Lauren here, and I have a bit of news for you all: I'm changing my penname. From the next chapter on, it'll be WalkTwoMoons, okay? I won't change it just yet, cause I want everyone to get a chance to read this first before I go and get you all confused. Nothing else is changing, just the name…Someone asked in a review if I was going to keep the ending the same as it is in the movie, and the answer is no. For those of you who have seen the movie, I bet you've noticed how much the ending sucks. (I know I have.) For those of you who haven't, don't worry about it. You'll like the ending, that's all you need to know. And from this point on, things will be a little different from the story. It won't be horrible or anything, I'm just adding my own little flair to it. Except for this chapter, where I actually kept the chain of events pretty much the same (including the song—something I can't duplicate.) I hope you guys like it. Anyway, enjoy this chapter. It's one of my faves…seeing Hermione crazy is always a good thing. And review!

And by the way, I've decided to keep all the "define" lines, because I just think it's so incredibly sexy the way Ed Burns says it...ahh…it's good. I had to keep it in, because Ron is sexy, and Ed Burns is sexy, so…Ron gets his lines. End of story.

Lauren

Disclaimer: no. No, no, no. No way I own Harry Potter.

Chapter Six

(Can't Get No) Satisfaction

It was ten forty-five in the morning and Ron was pacing back and forth, running the grass bare. Jones had disapparated back to the Ministry, and Darcy and the others were trying their best to conduct business as usual. Hermione hadn't shown up for work, which was always unusual because she was always early. They had looked for her at her apartment, they asked Heather if she'd seen her, and they even contacted Don to see if he'd heard anything. But there was no sign of Hermione anywhere. Ron looked up and fell still as he heard a popping sound: it was Jones.

"Well, I talked to Abernathy, and she hasn't called in sick or anything. There's been nothing from her since yesterday."

Ron grimaced, putting his hand over his forehead and wishing he had a fever and were laying at home in bed. Actually, anywhere would have been better than there.

"Well then, what can we do?" he asked.

"Abernathy said he's looking for a fill-in for today, and that he'd contact us in about half an hour to let us know."

"No! We should wait, I know she'll show up. If we just give her a little more time, she'll get here. This is so unlike her. She'll show up," Ron argued, pacing again. Just then he heard something behind him and spun around.

"Hermione! Where the hell—jesus, what happened to you?"

Hermione was walking toward them, looking like quite the professional. She had on a Chudley Cannons baseball cap over her wild, frizzy hair that fell loosely down her back. She was wearing a tee shirt and a crooked black skirt, with a pair of black Converse; one was untied. She walked clumsily, and she kept tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Hey guys! Good morning!" she said, a big grin on her face. Ron and Jones exchanged unsure glances.

"Um, good morning," Jones said, chuckling.

"Where've you been?" Ron asked gently.

"Oh, you know, here and there mostly," she replied with a wink. She was obviously smashed.

"Hmm, 'here and there'…well, all right then!" Ron said cheerily. "Um, why don't you sit down Hermione, take a rest. You don't have to worry about doing anything today, someone else will come and do it for you, okay?" Ron said, bringing over a chair and placing it next to Hermione, encouraging her to sit down.

"No, whaddyou mean?" she slurred. "I can do it. I want to."

"Hermione, I really don't think you're in any condition to be working right now, so please sit down," Ron whispered, gently pushing her into the chair.

"Mr. Weasley, please remove your hands from me, or else I will have to have a word with Mr. Abernathy about the appropriateness with which this project is being conducted!" Hermione cried, shoving his hands away. Ron jumped backwards as several curious heads turned their way.

"She's just—she's just kidding. There's nothing inappropriate—Hermione! Stop it, stop it, this is ridiculous," he said. "Fine, work, see if I care. There's no point in stopping you. Jones," he said, turning away from Hermione, "tell Abernathy that we won't be needing that fill-in after all. If Hermione wants to work, so be it."

Jones nodded, then disapparated. Hermione stood up, tugging at her shirt and raising her head indignantly. Ron looked at her, shook his head, and walked away. Hermione approached—or stumbled, one would say—a man of about 4'6, who was standing in the middle of a crowd of people waiting to get in line. She stopped in front of him, smiled, and roughly grabbed his papers.

"So, um, Mr. Taylor, is it?" she asked, reading the top line. "What is it you have to complain about?" Hermione slurred. Mr. Taylor gave her an odd look. A haughty Ministry secretary stood nearby, keeping tabs on Hermione and monitoring her behavior.

"Well, I feel that my kind—you know, leprechauns—are severely underpaid and unappreciated! We work hard, you know, we work very hard, but creatures like goblins and veela get paid much more than we do," he said, looking up at Hermione from his chair. Hermione gave him a wry grin.

"Unappreciated, eh? I can understand that, certainly," she said, casting Ron a harsh look. He sighed and began rubbing his eyes embarrassedly.

"I'll tell you about unappreciated," she continued, raising her voice. "You wanna know what it's like to be unappreciated? Try being in a relationship with someone who has no time for you!" The crowd around her became silent as her volume still increased. "Yeah! You spend all your energy trying to make things perfect, and what happens? He doesn't even notice! He's too busy off doing whatever it is he decides is more important than caring about you, and you end up unappreciated!" She was practically screaming now. "Isn't that just the worst? I'll tell you something: it sucks. A lot. It's time to put an end to unappreciation!!" she cried, and the crowd of people around them erupted in cheers.

Ron looked at Jones in desperation, thoughts zooming through his mind. Was she talking about him? Since when did he not have time for her? What the bloody hell was going on? Jones was looking around frantically, torn in anguish between attempting to calm them and running of in the other direction. Unfortunately, their hesitation left the window open for chaos—and it came rushing through.

"Hey I think I know somebody else who felt a bit like we do…his name was Keith…Jagger, and he had the same problem. And you all know what he said…" Hermione asked, the crowd nearly screaming. Ron rolled his eyes. Mick Jagger…and it's bloody Keith Richards!

Just as he snapped back into the moment and realized exactly what was happening, the crowd had erupted into a spontaneous, horribly blurred version of Satisfaction, which was now turning into more of an animal call. The Ministry monitors stood nearby, their quills jotting rapidly, not bothering to help break up the chaos. Ron caught one last glimpse of Hermione as she disappeared into a sea of people (and other such creatures present), her hand bobbing up and down as she and the others rocked along to the beat.

It was dark, and Hermione had to rub her eyes quite a bit before she was able to open them properly. With her mouth stretched out in a satisfying yawn, she looked around the room and took notice of the large bed she was in, the blue of the duvet clashing a bit with the greenish-yellow of the sheets. She stretched her arms above her head and sat up quickly as she heard a noise from somewhere behind her.

"Well, rise and shine," said Ron, walking in with a tray in his hands. His hair fell lightly over his eyes, which appeared to be a little tired, but his smile was refreshing and bright. Hermione would have gasped if she hadn't felt something catch in her throat at that moment. He walked over to her side of the bed and laid the tray down next to her.

"Here we go…a hair of the dog that bit you. What were you drinking last?" he asked, a chipper grin on his lips. Hermione groaned, looking at the several glasses and settling on a particularly intense-looking drink. Ron chuckled.

"Oh yes, that'll do then," he said, picking the glass up by the rim and handling it to her gingerly. Hermione grimaced, watching it for a while, and Ron got up to open the blinds. As he sat back down, she gave him a skeptical look, but, seeing Ron's face, resigned and proceeded to down its contents. She immediately gagged, and it was all Ron could do to slap her on the back a few times to get her to relax. She extended her tongue a few times in disgust—much like a cat would with a fur ball—and then took a deep breath. Ron watched her silently.

"So, how are you feeling?" he asked finally. She looked up at him wearily.

"Like hell. What happened?" she asked. Suddenly, her eyes grew large. "Wait, we didn't—"

"No! No, we didn't." he answered, chuckling. "No, you um, you passed out in my car."

Hermione smiled meekly, giving him a small 'oh'. She remained silent, wringing her hands nervously in her lap, until a thought suddenly occurred to her.

"Ron, what exactly was I doing in your car? What happened yesterday?"

Ron's eyes flicked up to meet her, and she noticed a sudden nervousness appear in them. He looked around the room, looking for something that would either aid in the creation of an excuse or distract her. Hermione noticed just then a wand—her wand—sitting on the bedside table, and before he realized it, she grabbed for it and pointed it at the box sitting on the table on the opposite side of the room.

In the instant that Ron lunged over to grab it from her hands, the box flickered on, producing a small wisp of smoke as it did. A picture filled the edges of the box and there, on the screen, sat two news wizards, laughing hysterically at something wickedly humorous.

"If you're just tuning in, our top story tonight is that of Hermione Granger, an employee of the Magical Creatures department at the Ministry," came the sophisticated, almost cocky voice of the female news anchor. "Miss Granger has been previously recognized as a hard-working and very promising employee, conducting breakthrough research concerning, most recently, the tolerance of goblins in the workforce. But this morning, we here at Wizard News received some rather shocking information—yesterday, at a weeklong convention being held by the Ministry, Miss Granger showed up…well, maybe we should let you hear it straight from the source. Mrs. Westley?" As she finished up, Hermione could hear the faint laughter of the woman and her coworkers. The screen twisted, transforming into another picture, which showed the face of, to Hermione's surprise, one of the haughty old women at the convention. Hermione felt her breath suddenly depart from her body; Ron's heart sped up and he shifted uncomfortably, facing away from the telebox and looking at the wall.

"Yes, hello Diane," came a shaky, yet very indignified, voice.

"Mrs. Westley, could you tell us what exactly happened yesterday, by your accounts?"

"Miss Granger displayed irresponsible and, frankly, disturbing behavior yesterday afternoon. She arrived at work, seemingly very drunk indeed, and not only roused the crowd into an impromptu—and horrendous, might I add—performance of that old Rolling Stones song, but made a complete and utter fool of herself, screaming and tossing herself about in a very un-ladylike and very unprofessional fashion. I very much doubt the stability of Miss Granger's position at the Ministry at this point, considering that it would most likely be a very controversial decision to keep a woman like this employed in such a conservative environment."

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Westley," Diane said, as the picture on the screen transformed back to the news studio. "And that's the latest on our top story. We'll be back in a moment after these messages."

Hermione felt the color drain from her face like someone had sucked the blood completely from her body. Her hand, previously holding the wand, dropped limply to her side, and her head cocked to the left slowly. Ron looked at her cautiously, opening his mouth tentatively, but realizing her really didn't know what to say. His eyes drifted toward the telebox. A little leprechaun came on the screen now, apparently advertising cookies, but he pushed this out of his head.

"No, but—but, they can't…they…no…" she whispered, not moving. Ron sighed, shifting over to rub her arm.

"Hermione, it's not that bad, I mean…look, I'm sure you can meet with Abernathy, discuss it with him, and everything will be fine, okay?"

"Yeah, right. Sure, it's that easy, easy for you to say, your life didn't come crashing down in the course of one single day. I mean, my life is ruined!"

"Well, define life."

"Well, I have no boyfriend, no friends, probably no flat, and now no job, so basically nothing worth sticking around for. So like I said, easy for you to say—"

Just then, a loud popping noise resounded from downstairs and a booming voice began to speak, causing Ron to jump up in surprise.

"Hello? Mr. Weasley?"

"Don't move, I'll get that."

Hermione watched as he descended the stairs, her heart settling heavily in the pit of her stomach. What had she been thinking? Surely her breakup wasn't awful enough to get horribly drunk and show up at work to act like an idiot. She suddenly realized that the voice that was coming from downstairs was a very familiar voice, and felt a chill run up her spine. She stood up, crept down the stairs, and stood at the bottom, peeking around the corner. Protruding from the fireplace came Abernathy's head, as jubilant and wobbly as ever. Ron's back was to her, and his hands were wedged firmly across his chest.

"No, sir, I haven't heard from Miss Granger since yesterday morning," came Ron's tired voice.

"All right then, Weasley, if you hear from her, let me know, all right?" His left chin seemed more active than the right. Ron nodded, and with another loud pop, Abernathy was gone. Ron sighed and turned around, walking over to the counter, when he noticed a pair of wide eyes in the corner. When he looked at them, their owner straightened up, embarrassed.

"Um…thanks. For that," she said, straightening up. Ron gave her a sweet grin.

"Yeah, no problem."

They stood in silence for a few moments, looking around the room with goofy, artificially interested grins on their faces.

"So, um, what do you want to do then? Do you want me to get you back home? I mean, you're in no state to apparate on your own, so I'd definitely be willing to help you. Or maybe you could um, go find Don, try and work things out…if that's what you want. Not that you should. I mean…" Ron felt his face flush, and it made Hermione giggle. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

"Actually, I was thinking…maybe I could um, stay here, for a little bit? That is, if you don't mind…"

Ron smiled as he caught her eye.

"No, that would be just fine. I'd love for you to stay."

Hermione sighed, relieved, and gave him a warm grin, which was all Ron needed as thanks. They resumed their awkward position, eyes roaming around the room idly, finding something remotely eye-catching to distract them. Then, out of the blue, Ron chuckled.

"What?" Hermione asked, looking up at him.

"I'll only let you stay if you take a shower, or else we may all be dead by noon."

Hermione laughed nervously, tucking her hands behind her back, but laughing all the same. She nodded her head in agreement and, with one quick look back, made her way up the stairs to clean herself up.

Heehee, hope you guys liked that one! The next chapter is already in the works (in which we'll see more cute moments), and the next one for Magic is almost done as well, so it won't be long. Review please!! Love you guys, thanks so much!