Drarry

A Letter and A Punch

Hermione and Harry said goodbye to Moody and made their way back to the Gryffindor common room, chatting about Moody. And Ron.

"Are you seriously thinking of breaking up with him?" Harry asked gently as they approached the Fat Lady. Hermione sighed deeply and gave the password so the portrait swung open. As they clambered through, she nodded once. Harry ran his hands through his hair. Why did this have to happen. A sudden surge of guilt rammed into him. This was all his fault. If he wasn't in a relationship with Draco, Ron would still be his friend and Hermione wouldn't be thinking of dumping him. He threw himself into a chair by the fire and stared moodily into the flickering flames.

"I'm off to bed," Hermione announced a moment later. She left Harry gazing into the fire. His dull thoughts were interrupted by a tapping at the window. He jerked up and saw that it was his owl, Dobby. Harry jumped up and flung open the window so that the jet black owl could glide in and settle on the back of the chair. He had a scroll tied to his leg. Harry removed it and unrolled the parchment.

"Dear Harry,
Ron wrote to me to tell me about you and Malfoy. He didn't seem happy about it and now that I've read the Daily Prophet, I've concluded that my youngest brother is doing a Percy, except on a more stinging level. To be honest Harry, I was very surprised to hear the news, especially when Ron said that Ginny was now going out with Terry Boot but hey, different strokes for different folks. I just hope you're okay. Give my love to Hermione and punch Ron for me. Also tell Malfoy that if he messes you around, he'll have me to answer to.
From George Weasly."

Harry smiled at the neatly penned letter. Thank Merlin that George was on his side. And he'd given Harry permission to punch Ron! Harry tromped up to the dormitory with Georges letter clutched tight in his fist. He'd almost forgotten that a certain Ron Weasly slept in the same room as he did and was brutally reminded when a crop of red hair sat bolt upright in bed.

"Finally Potter decides to grace the room with his gay presence," Ron said coldly, glaring at Harry and waiting for a response from the rest of the boys. Neville sighed and shook his head, preferring to duck under his covers than engage in conversation. Dean rolled his eyes and threw a pillow at Ron.

"Dude, what is your problem?" Dean snapped furiously. "Do you have a problem with being gay?"

"Sort of," replied Ron. "But I've got more of a problem with having a traitor amongst us."

Harry swore then and strode over to Ron. His furious green eyes were inches from Ron's and Harry drew in a sharp breath before stepping back and slamming his fist into Ron's liberally freckled nose.

"George says hello," Harry spat and climbed into bed, ignoring the shout and rapid stream of swearing. Harry felt a mean surge of vindictive happiness wash over him as he tugged his covers up over his chin. Suddenly the covers were whisked off him and he leaped up, grabbing his wand. Ron stood there in all his too small pjs glory with his wand pointed right at Harry. His nose was bleeding and for a second, Harry felt bad. Then he recalled the fact the Ron had called up Rita Skeeter. And he didn't feel bad.

"Listen, Ron," Harry said, trying to act calm. Ron shook his head.

"Don't you listen Ron me," he snarled. "C'mon. Duel me, Chosen One."

Harry rolled his eyes and lowered his wand. He suddenly realized that being angry at Ron wasn't going to solve anything. If, however, he treated the red headed git like an imbecile, that might get something through his skull.

"I'm not going to duel you, Ron," Harry said in a forced calm manner. "You might wet yourself in terror."

Ron's face changed from bright red to a brilliant red that clashed fantastically with his tousled hair. He began spluttering that he would not, under any circumstances, wet himself. Harry ignored him and grabbed his covers again. Furious, Ron left the dormitory just as everyone besides him burst into peels of laughter.