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Hello again! I wrote this fast and didn't feel like going over it much, so if it has any mistakes or weirdness in it…then it just does lol

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"I'm sorry, Mr. Woodson, but I must reiterate the instructions I gave you last week," Ron said, attempting to maintain his patience as he faced the elderly man."You need to stop feeding your dog sweets."

"But Ruby loves sweets," the man explained in a squeaky voice, "and you see, today is her birthday..."

Ron sighed. "Just how many cupcakes did your dog eat today, Mr. Woodson?"

The old man paused, his lips pursed as he thought about it. "Well, I walked her to the little bakery down the road and bought a box of them… a dozen, I believe," he said, "When we got home, I ate two and then I gave Ruby the rest."

"Ten?" Ron asked incredulously. "You fed your dog ten cupcakes?"

Looking sheepish, the old man gave a small shrug. "It's her birthday," he repeated, though his eyes were remorseful as he peered down at the dog laid out on the table between them.

"The good news," Ron explained as he started pulling his gloves off, "Is that she will be okay. Her stats are normal and her stomach is neither too hard nor too soft- both of which would be very worrisome." The old man let out a small, relieved sounding sob. "She might vomit or have diarrhea tonight, though, so watch out for that." He patted the dog affectionately on the head, his voice softening. "She's currently having one hell of a stomach ache, but Lavender at the front desk will fix you up with some nice meds that will help make her feel better."

"Oh thank you, Mr. Weasley, thank you," Mr. Woodson blubbered, his eyes watery. Ron gave the old man a closed mouth smile as he lifted the medium-sized dog off the table. "Let's get you feeling better, Ruby," he said to her, and Ruby wagged her tail in response.

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"You alright?" Lavender asked, smiling as Ron rubbed at his eyes. After discharging Ruby and wishing her and Mr. Woodson well, Ron had flipped the open sign to closed, the long work day finally over.

"I hardly had five minutes between patients all day long," he complained.

Lavender shot him a mock-sympathetic pout. "You poor, poor man," she teased. "Having to save sick animals for a living."

"Oi! Hush it! You do know I could fire you just like that, right?" he asked, snapping his fingers.

Lavender smirked. "Yeah, but you wouldn't."

Ron rolled his eyes as she stood up and strolled towards him. Four years and some months after hiring her, it was painfully evident that his repeated threats to fire her held no weight.

"Do you have anything exciting going on tonight?" he asked as she reached behind him to grab her purse from the hook on the wall.

"Another blind date," she replied casually, pulling the purse's strap over her shoulder.

"You go on those a lot."

Lavender slipped a pair of sunglasses over her eyes. "Only because my hot boss hasn't asked me to marry him yet."

"Is that right?" Ron asked, arching an eyebrow. "Well he sounds like an idiot. What kind of bloke wouldn't put a ring on you as soon as possible?"

"He is an idiot." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. "Bye, Ron, I'll see you Monday morning."

"Bright and early."

With that, Lavender was gone, the clicking of her heels fading as she walked out the front door and into the sunshine. Ron slipped off his white coat and placed it on a free hook. Making sure he had his wallet, keys, and cellphone in his jeans pocket, he looked around the room. "Come on, Pig," he called out. "Time to go home."

The brown and white rat ran out from somewhere behind the front desk, making its way up Ron's body until it settled comfortably on his shoulder.

"We should stop at that taco stand on the way home," he suggested to Pig as he walked out of the small building, making sure to lock the door behind him. "I didn't even get to eat lunch today, can you bloody believe that?"

The weather had been nice that morning, so Ron had opted to walk to work rather than drive. As he and Pig made their way to the taco stand a few blocks away, his mind drifted to his encounter with the bushy-haired woman several weeks prior. For some unknown reason, he hadn't been able to get her off his mind. Hermione Granger had cast some sort of spell over him, and no matter how hard he tried, he was unable to shake it off. Even being with other women hadn't forced her from his head, and as time went on, instead of thinking of her less, Ron found himself thinking of her even more.

"Do you ever get lonely?" he asked Pig after pondering. "Lonely for a female companion, I mean?" He turned his head to see the rat watching him intently. "Or male," he added hastily, "You know I don't judge." Pig lifted his nose and sniffed the air, the smell of street tacos getting closer. "Maybe I should get you a friend," Ron went on, the idea making him smile, "But a girl rat might be out of the question, mate… Your kind multiplies like you wouldn't believe."

Rounding the corner, Ron came to an abrupt halt. There, in front of the very taco stand he'd been heading to, stood Hermione Granger. The man running the stand handed her a wrapped taco, Hermione smiling as she gave him her thanks.

Ron frowned. She hadn't smiled at him like that.

"Great," he muttered under his breath, "Now I'm jealous of the taco stand guy."

Jumping behind a thin light pole, Ron watched as Hermione walked his way, oblivious to his presence. "Is this considered stalking?" he whispered to Pig, who was now fidgeting on his shoulder, eager for some tacos. "Because I feel like a stalker."

Hermione made it to the light pole and stopped when she noticed him. "Ron?"

Instead of responding, Ron immediately bent down over a dead roach on the ground. He looked up at Hermione with a pained expression. "It was too late," he moaned, "I couldn't save him!"

"What are you-" Hermione spotted the roach at his feet and rolled her eyes. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Kidding you?" Ron exclaimed, "His name was Norman and he was beloved by all! Unfortunately, life on the streets isn't easy and the city isn't a safe place for a small fellow like him."

"Were you following me?" she demanded, not looking at all amused.

"Woah, woah, woah," Ron said as he stood up and faced her. "I wouldn't do that." She gave him a look of disbelief. "The first time doesn't count!" he defended, " You were a suspected catnapper!"

"If you weren't following me, why were you hiding?" Her eyes narrowed as she awaited his answer.

"Maybe I did it so I could avoid this awkwardness." He gestured to the building across the street. "I live in this building here. I was on my way home from work, and Pig and I were planning to stop for some tacos from our favorite taco stand. This run in was pure coincidence."

Hermione looked him up and down, her gaze lingering on Pig before again meeting his eyes. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Work?" she asked. "You mean as a pet detective?"

"Not today, no." He shook his head. "Haven't had an inquiry in a week or so."

The corner of her mouth quirked up. "Maybe you're just not very good at your side job."

His mouth dropped open. "Bloody hell! You sure know how to tear a bloke down!" She laughed and he smiled. "You remembered my name when you addressed me earlier," he continued. "Don't tell me you've been thinking about me?"

Her cheeks went pink and his smile widened. "You tried to steal Crookshanks," she huffed, "Of course I remember your name." She crossed her arms over her chest. "At least your first name. I never got your last."

Ron held his hand out to her. "Ron Wentura: Pet Detective," he said, winking at her.

Hermione didn't take his hand. "Wentura's an odd name."

"It's not my real last name," he admitted. "But maybe I'll tell you my real identity once we get to know each other better." He resisted the urge to tell her how much he'd been thinking about her these last several weeks. If he did, she'd be sure to think he was insane.

"Like a date?" Her words were slow and Ron wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Not just any date! It would be the best date you've ever been on!"

"You sound confident in that," she said dryly.

"I am."

"Hmm." She appraised him yet again and Ron felt a little zap of pleasure run down his spine. "Sorry, but I don't think so."

His face fell. "Why not?" he pressed. One of his hands went to the top of his head. "It's my hair, isn't it?" he guessed. "You don't fancy ginger blokes."

She gave a small laugh. "It's not your hair. If you do recall, I have a ginger at home and I love him very much."

"And he's a damn lucky cat to have your affections."

Hermione gave him an odd look. "Speaking of Crookshanks, he'll be waiting for me." She took a step forward as if to continue on her way.

"Until we run into each other again, then," he said glumly, knowing there was nothing more to say, at least for the moment.

"Goodbye, Mr. Wentura."

Ron was only several steps away when Hermione spoke again. "Ron?" Hopeful, he turned back around to face her. "Word of advice," she said, "don't ask a woman out on a date when you have another woman's lipstick on your face."

Cursing under his breath, Ron's hand immediately covered the offending cheek that was surely now as red as the lipstick on it. "It's not what you- I mean-" he spluttered, but Hermione was already gone, her curls lost in a sea of other people.