Ron had never liked Mondays. They were expectant and pushy. But he wanted to be an Auror so much for so many reasons that he dragged himself out of bed. He washed, ate, left, and trained. Feeling half alive, a sensation no amount of Pepper-Up would diminish. He ate lunch because Harry insisted but sent Hannah an owl for himself.

She was a nice girl. That understanding had stayed with him drunk and hung-over and sober. Hufflepuffs were loyal. That was one of their prides. They wouldn't go slagging around with Championship Quidditch players as though she wanted to rub his nose in it. Pure-blood Sacred Twenty-Eight only son and rich, like she had a bloody check-list to find someone better than him.

Ron hexed the stuffing out of two training dummies before he could think straight again. Probably too soon to start dating. He needed to clear his head. But he'd sent the owl. He couldn't just send another one 'sorry changed my mind'. Hannah didn't deserve that.

When the trainees finished for the day, they went in a group to the Leaky Cauldron because it was cheap and they were on apprentice wages. Ron let Neville order for him. He stewed at the table thinking himself a wuss until his classmate started flirting clumsily with Hannah.

Ron was not much for introspection. He found himself at the bar before he realised he really did not want Neville talking to the pretty blonde before he'd had a chance to explain.

"Um." The wizard heard himself, knew his ears were going red then decided he did not want to sound like a fool. So think of something. "We still good for the weekend, Hannah? If you've changed your mind, that's alright." Bloody hell, now he sounded Confounded. "Sorry to interrupt. Your round, Neville."

Both wizards looked at the witch, both awkward and not wanting to seem a cad by snubbing a friend over a girl. Hannah's smile let them off the hook. She poured a butterbeer for each of them.

"The Prismatic Dragon is having an wine and cheese tasting this Friday. I would quite like to go, and if both of you go with me, you can give me your opinions on the food." Hannah suggested, reckoning that brie would be a good chaperone. She liked both Ron and Neville, did not want to play them off each other, and the food would fill any gaps in conversation.

Neville looked at Ron. Ron looked at Neville. They came to an accord. No one was stepping on anyone's toes if they went to a cocktail lounge together. Plus the Prism was the place to go if you wanted to brag about it at work. Proper London posh.

Tuesday went in a blur. Wednesday dragged. Ron found himself wanting to talk to Hermione about some ward problem then realised she would not be at the Burrow when he got off work. He lay in his bed in his tiny room in the trainees' flat staring at the off-white ceiling. Hermione would not give a damn about his ward problem. She was Mrs Flint. Probably picking out curtains right now.

Unless she was staring at Flint's bedroom ceiling.

Shite.

Ron got up because he was not going to cry over her. He was going to go to the Burrow and eat his mum's shepherd's pie. He would listen to Ginny complain about try-outs and Percy drone on about regulations or something. Instead of going directly, he stopped at Diagon Alley and bought a tub of his dad's favourite ice cream. Because family mattered.

Thursday was a bit better. He trained. He chatted to his mates. He managed the whole 'getting over it' bit until he saw Malfoy's ferret arse loitering at the Ministry with a bunch of other snakes. They looked right put out. Good. Ron made sure to grin as he strode past. He would have made a rude gesture except he'd promised his mum to keep a lid on his temper.

Friday saw him on the floor during duelling practice. The new restraint spells were a challenge. He wasn't the only one bowled over like a nine pin. But he held his ground and his shield and got Dean with a tendriculos hex that needed three wizards to undo.

So, Ron told himself in the bathroom mirror, he could face fancy drinks and runny cheese. No moping in his bed feeling like a failure. He was very nearly an Auror. He used all the grooming charms he knew and found some clean trousers. Ginny had been so pleased that he was going out she had bought him a blue waistcoat she assured him was very fashionable.

The door-beast at the Prismatic Dragon did not seem to agree about the waistcoat. There was a distinct sniff as he walked in. Hannah was already there and Neville due any minute so Ron got himself a drink and joined the witch at her table.

"I should've worn something bright. People keep mistaking me for a waitress." Hannah smiled, nodding at his outfit. The blue brought out the colour of his eyes. She was wearing her best dress, a little black number, and felt shabby. "Some of the handbags cost more than my rent."

"We don't have to stay if you're uncomfortable." Ron said politely. He had left a lot of events early due to Hermione's dislike of parties. He was surprised when Hannah simply shrugged.

"I don't mind. Most of the bags are ugly." She tossed her hair in a playful, dismissive gesture. It had taken her hours to get rid of the beer odour. Hannah promised herself her next job would not leave her smelling like a distillery. "How was your day?"

"Good." He answered shortly then flushed at her sympathetic look. "Sorry." He groaned at himself. No moping. Nice, pretty girl and good booze. Don't be a prat. "We were learning the advanced arrest hexes. All the Ministry approved take-downs. It went well."

"Your sister owled me twice to make sure you had a fun night." Hannah was not sure she should tell Ron but guessed if he found out some other way, he would think that she had gone out with him out of pity. "So, do you want to try a few of the silly cocktails or elbow our way into the reception room for the cheese?"

"Cheese. Definitely cheese." Ron vowed to have it out with Ginny for interfering. He might have left then however Neville arrived at that moment so he couldn't retreat without it looking like he was conceding the field. They talked about work some more and Quidditch. Hannah was mad for the Caerphilly Catapults, which got her into a friendly argument over bumphing with Chuddley Ron and Wimbourne Neville.

Biased referees and suspect fouls got them comfortably through the first cocktail and into the wine tasting. The Prismatic Dragon had several private rooms for VIP events. One of which was given over to the lavish spread of nibbles and self-satisfied alcohol. Another was an exclusive party. As he sampled some Belgian cheese with a name like a spelling mistake, Ron noticed a lot of baddies slithering into that room.

Both Carrow twins, a Yaxley, three Rosiers and a brief glimpse of white pale hair that had to be Malfoy. Trainee Auror Weasley took his companions aside to share his concerns. All three of them were DA. Some things never left you. Ron kept an eye on the door while Neville found a fireplace and Hannah tried to wheedle some information out of the barman.

A amiably curvy blonde could do a lot of wheedling. Her intel did not make Ron feel any better though. They sauntered over to the Sauternes table in the corner to cover their discussion. Hannah was good at reading people and she was sure the bar staff were falling over themselves to bring drinks to the VIP room. Whoever was there was spending hand over fist.

"The owners have opened the executive floo. One of the cocktail waitresses said the room was booked as a birthday party. Specifically as a 'private family event' to conform with the Ministry house arrest and probation rules." Hannah's affable demeanour faltered. "Not enough to let the real bastards attend but I know that Pansy Parkinson is in there."

"Can we get in?" Ron thought about borrowing Harry's cloak but Kingsley had been rather firm on them not using it, at least until they were Aurors. A Notice-Me-Not would not be enough. Someone in such a large group would spot something. No time to Polyjuice. "We can disguise ourselves as waiters. We need to find out what those bastards are up to."

"It really is a birthday party." Neville padded up to them with surprising stealth for such a tall man. He had a small tray of crackers he had caught as it floated past. "A friend at the Permits Office confirmed it. Lucian Bole's twenty-third. The paperwork is properly signed off. He even submitted a guest list." He waited until Ron swallowed his mouthful as he did not want to be sprayed with masticated biscotti. "Hermione's on it."