A/N: A short chapter. Maybe the last since I never intended for this story to go for so long... Anyway, read and (hopefully) enjoy :)
Ron was noticeably absent from the Ministry for the rest of the week, his manager coming to speak to both Harry and Hermione out of concern for Ron. Nobody in their team had had any luck trying to contact him. Harry spent most of his spare time roaming around visiting friends, asking them if they had seen Ron. Ginny kept in constant contact with Bill, George and Charlie, encouraging them all to keep their ears to the ground.
By the end of the week, an owl finally arrived from Charlie. Ginny and Harry quickly unfurled the letter and scanned it. Ron had been staying at Percy's apartment just out of the city while Percy was abroad, although he was quickly working on the nerves of Percy's flatmates with his flaring temper. Harry's shoulder's relaxed.
"Thank god," he sighed, "He's okay…" Ginny put an arm around him, similarly relieved.
"But what are we going to do about him?" she asked, biting her lip.
"I guess go get him before he causes anymore damage…" Harry said, setting his face. He turned and strode across the apartment, pulling his and Ginny's coats down from the hooks on the wall. Ginny nodded sombrely, it was time to go and stop Ron from spiralling.
It was the end of the working week and Fleur had come to meet Hermione outside of her work, kissing her softly on the cheek.
"So, yours or mine?" Fleur smiled, "Or to muggle town?"
Hermione smiled warmly, "I think I'd like to go to a bar somewhere near here…"
Fleur's eyebrows raised, surprised. Hermione had come a very long way with being more open about the last shred of her private life, but she had still never had the courage to take Fleur on a public date in a wizarding area. The most open she had been were the times she had declared her feelings for Fleur at Bill and Remus' parties. Fleur smiled broadly, showcasing her perfect teeth.
"If you're sure, ma petit," she purred, looping her arm in Hermione's and walking through the cold streets.
It wasn't long before they came across a warm and inviting looking pub and Hermione nodded confidently at Fleur. They ducked inside, spotting a small table near the entrance. Fleur swept in and claimed it while Hermione weaved through the crowd to get them some drinks.
Fleur took off her jacket, flinging it carelessly over her chair before sweeping her silver-blonde mane over a shoulder. Hermione returned to the table, placing their drinks down before jealously scanning the room at the glances Fleur was receiving.
"Oh, mon amour," Fleur purred, putting her hand on top of Hermione's on the table, "I like when you get all jealous…"
Hermione smiled and went to retort when she froze. She recognised the figure sitting across the room from them. Rhinestone jewelled spectacles, curiously rigid blonde curls, crimson two-inch nails clawing their way around a martini glass.
"Rita Skeeter…" She hissed, remembering how much she hated the poison pen excuse for a journalist.
"No way," Fleur exclaimed, slowly moving her gaze to follow Hermione's, "I had forgotten that foul woman even existed."
"Its okay…" Hermione said, her gaze returning to Fleur, but her hand retreated from underneath the French witch's. Fleur tried to hide her disappointment, not wanting to pressure the younger witch, by changing the subject abruptly to Quidditch. Hermione laughed heartily at the attempt to lighten the mood, Fleur was about as interested in Quidditch as she was. Had she already forgotten the hot summer they spent at the Burrow avoiding being drafted into the Weasley's rag tag teams to play? Hermione smiled at the memory of the summer she had first realised her feelings towards Fleur.
There was a thick thumping of boots and a tall figure came to loom over their table. Hermione looked up, irritated at the interruption, only to see Ron glaring down at her.
"How many times did I try to take you out for a drink and tell you about Quidditch?" he snapped loudly, drawing several glances from tables nearby.
"Ron!" Hermione said, deliberately lowering her voice to a mutter, "How did you even find us here?"
Ron narrowed his eyes at Hermione lowering her tone before turning to sneer at Fleur, "well I guess I'm not the only one not good enough for her, she can't even admit to people how she knows you can she?"
"Ronald," Fleur said calmly, "You're drunk, let us take you home…"
Hermione noticed from behind Ron's arm that Rita was starting to take notice from across the room, producing an acid green quill quickly from within her jacket. Hermione clenched her jaw.
"I might be drunk, but at least I'm no liar…" Ron slurred bitterly, "Hermione Granger, brave member of the golden trio, yet too cowardly to tell anyone how she really feels… Or maybe she'll only tell people when she meets someone she deems worth her time."
At this, Fleur's face darkened to an icy frown as she eyed the drunken redheaded boy angrily. Hermione drew in a deep breath.
"Ron," Hermione said, louder now, "I love Fleur. I have for a long time. I'm sorry I wasn't honest to you about it, and maybe you're right that it was cowardly, but I'm not going to hide it anymore."
She reached back across the table and took Fleur's hand tightly, no longer caring as Rita Skeeter's acid green quill scratched furiously on a scrap of parchment.
To Hermione's surprise, Ron's eyes began to well up, and she stood quickly to hug him, Fleur flashing her a supportive smile.
"Ron, I'm sorry, you're still so important to me, and its painful to see you like this" she said soothingly into Ron's ear, "Its time for us to get you some help."