Ron and Hermione were at it again. On Christmas Eve, of all days, another fight had broken out between the two. Their bickering was driving Harry mad, so he figured out a way to end it once and for all.
“Ron, Hermione,” began Harry. “The day has come that you two will have your last row. You two are going to battle it out using insults; the meanest, nastiest, insults you can think of. No wands allowed. You can involve the entire school if it pleases your bickering heads. Whoever wins gets to decide what happens to the other.”
Without waiting for an answer, Harry spun on his heels and stomped towards the portrait hole. Just before exiting he stopped and spun around. “At noon, straight after lunch. In the Entrance Hall. Be there, or be square.”
Ron and Hermione looked at each other and shrugged in silent agreement. As soon as they shook hands in agreement, they both tore through the Common Room to get out first. Hermione knew that Ron wanted Malfoy on his insult team, nobody was better at insulting than him. The problem was, Hermione was thinking along the same lines.
They collided at the portrait hole, pushing and shoving, both determined to get to Malfoy before the other. Unfortunately, this obstacle took quite a chunk of time out of the little they had.
Ron, being exceptionally tall was able to use his long legs to his own advantage. He stepped far out of the jumble of himself and Hermione and took off at a sprint. He looked over his shoulder to see Hermione catching up.
Just as Ron turned his attention back to what was in front of him, a little First year darted in to the middle of the corridor and Ron tripped over the tiny child. The child burst into wild tears. Ron stopped to help the poor child and make sure that he was okay, even though it allowed Hermione to get in front of him.
He kept right on running, not giving a care that he had just trampled a kid. Hermione on the other hand, stopped to help the First year. As Ron started down the staircase he saw Hermione’s scandalized look. He had a split second of remorse before it washed away and he continued down to the dungeons.
Hermione smiled to herself. Ron hadn’t figured out her rapidly devised plan. When she saw the crying first year, she did what Ron had expected and stopped to help him. As soon as Ron was out of sight, Hermione shot up and went the opposite way down the corridor.
She skidded to a halt outside the portrait hole.
“Yuletide,” Hermione gasped to the Fat Lady.
The Fat Lady swung open allowing Hermione to clamber inside. She rushed over to the fireplace and withdrew a pot of Floo Powder. Only she, Harry and Ron knew that it was here. Dumbledore had given it to them incase one of the trio urgently needed to contact him.
Hermione through a pinch of powder into the roaring fire and clearly spoke the words, “Slytherin Common Room.”
A sickening feeling of having her head being twisted off the rest of her body occurred and Hermione shut her eyes tight so she didn’t become nauseous.
“Hey...Hey!” bellowed Hermione into the empty Slytherin Common Room.
“Er...hello?” asked a voice.
“Malfoy,” called Hermione. “Get over here ”
Malfoy strutted over to his stone fireplace to see who had flooed his Common Room.
“Granger?” he questioned. He was sure that was the mudblood Granger’s face in the fire, but, why would she be calling for him?
“I need your help,” said Hermione.
“And just why should I help you?” asked Malfoy. He didn’t have time for games. He wouldn’t do anything for Granger anyway.
Hermione considered for a moment and a knowing smile slowly crept it’s way onto her face. “You get to insult Ron.”
At the stroke of noon, Ron, Hermione and their assembled teams were standing face to face in the Entrance Hall. Harry stood in the centre of the two groups. He was dressed in black and white striped robes and was holding a whistle.
“All right then, who’s going first?” he asked Ron and Hermione.
“Me ” shouted Hermione and Ron simultaneously.
“To prevent the row I feel coming on, ladies first,” declared Harry.
“Well, then shouldn’t Ron be going first?” asked Hermione in mock sweetness
“Nice start, Hermione. Now that this is started, I’m no longer playing any part in this. Insult each other until one of you gives up,” Harry instructed his two best friends.
“You’re so dumb, you fellytoned my house when you know very well I don’t own one,” shouted Ron.
“Yeah? Well, Ron, you’re so dumb that you can’t even say telephone correctly,” retorted Hermione.
“Hey Weasel King,” called Malfoy. “You’re so poor that when you finally got a galleon, you fainted and had to use the galleon to pay the hospital bill.”
Over in another corner, two Muggle-born third years were having an insult match, Muggle style.
“You’re so dumb, you starved to death in a supermarket,” yelled one.
“Oh yeah? You’re so ugly, you make your mother scared,” jeered the other.
“Your mum is so fat, that her fat has fat,” piped up another student.
“Hey! Leave my mummy out of this,” cried the first student.
Harry watched in fascination at the madness. He guessed that Ron and Hermione had rounded up just about every student in Hogwarts, even some teachers. Harry couldn’t suppress a laugh when he saw Dumbledore and Snape standing across from each other, exchanging insults.
“Ah, Severus, you’re such a horrible murderer, that I somehow managed to remain alive,” said Dumbledore serenely. He seemed to be enjoying himself very much.
“You’re such a trusting, old, crackpot fool that you didn’t notice I was truly working for the Dark Lord instead of you,” grumbled Snape.
Harry shook his head in disgust at the madness this school had fallen into. Then he remembered that it was his fault for suggesting it in the first place.
"You’re such an idiot that if Malfoy told you Snape would give you an ‘O’ if you dumped your head in your cauldron, you’d believe him,” shrieked Hermione.
“What’s under that hair, eh Hermione? Is that bushy hair just trying to hide the fact that you’re some alien with a super huge brain, and that’s why you’re so smart?” retorted Ron.
Malfoy was standing back. He had always thought he took the cake when it came to insults, apparently, he had been wrong. Here was Granger and the Weasel, best friends and at each other’s throats. Without realising it, Potter had probably just wrecked the friendship between the two.
“Oh, is that so?” cried Hermione. “Well, you’re so stupid that I could run starkers in front of you, holding a neon green sign that sings you the words, and you still wouldn’t be able to figure out that I love you.”
“Hmm? Well, Hermione, I- what? ” gasped Ron.
“I’m out of here,” said Malfoy. He’d had enough, he didn’t want to be here for the Weasel/Mudblood snogfest.
Most of the school followed Malfoy out, but then took post behind various statues, watching the scene from afar.
Hermione and Ron had stood stock-still for minutes. Only Harry, Ginny and Professor Dumbledore remained to watch in full sight.
“M...me, too,” Ron finally stuttered.
Hermione looked at Ron for a moment, seemingly contemplating. At last, she decided she couldn’t help herself. “We all know that you love yourself Ron, but how do you feel about me?”
Ron looked at Hermione. He saw her small smile, the raised eyebrow, and he knew that she was kidding. He took her hand in his and slowly walked out of the building to the applause of Harry, Ginny, Dumbledore, and the hidden students.
As the large oak doors closed, Harry turned to Ginny and whispered, “Your sunburn and hair are so red, people mistook you for a tomato and tried to put you in their salad.”