Chapter 5 : Rule #5
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"Come on Harry, move your ass! Find the Snitch!" Ron Weasley screamed from the stands. It was a Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Quidditch match, and Ron would be damned if the stupid green people won.
"Ron!" Hermione cried indignantly. He barely passed a glance at her scolding, he was far too used to it by that point.
Besides, he was too busy watching in anger as Draco Malfoy, the twat, elbowed his Gryffindor mates in attempt to find the snitch.
Bloody wanker, he thought.
"Shove off, wanker!" he shouted at Malfoy. There was no doubt in his mind that Malfoy would hear the insult, even over the boom of the crowd.
Unfortunately for Ron, Malfoy, once again, did not hear the insult; but Hermione did.
"Ron Weasley!" she cried indignantly. "Watch your language!"
"Hermione, I’m fourteen years old. I’m a bloody man! I can say whatever I want."
Hermione was shocked into silence, by both Ron’s stupidity and his ego.
Ron’s swears grew increasingly frequent as Malfoy continued to knock into his mate in the quest to find the snitch before Harry.
"That’s it," grumbled Ron.
Ron ran to the bottom of the stands and wildy waved his arms and yelled, trying to gain the attention of his peers. Obviously, since there was a raging Quidditch game in front of them, no one payed attention to the lanky, redheaded boy.
"Hermione, please help," he grumbled to his friend, who had followed him to make sure he didn’t cause any trouble.
"I don’t think I want to, Ron," Hermione said. She smiled at the power she held over him.
"Please?" he whined.
"Nope." Hermione spun on her heel and walked away smiling.
Ron stood, dejected, unable to grab the Gryffindors’ attention.
"Having trouble, little brother?"
Ron looked over to see his twin brothers, Fred and George, smirking at him with identical grins. "We can help there."
"All you need is a simple spell-"
"We just want to make sure you use it while you’re up to no good-"
"So what is it that you need help with, ickle Ronnie?"
Ron explained, under his breath, what his plan was.
"Wicked," his brothers professed at the same time.
"Sonorus," Fred whispered, pointing the wand at his younger brother’s throat. "Now, you should be louder than Lee." The twins’ best friend, Lee Jordan, was the commentator for all Quidditch matches.
"Good luck, little brother." George clapped Ron roughly on the back.
Ignoring the second thoughts that Ron was having about getting in trouble (if only to spite the unhelpful Hermione) Ron made his way to the edge of the stands and called loudly onto the Quidditch pitch, "Draco Malfoy takes it up the ass!"
The cheering in the stands stopped. Lee stopped, if only because all the players on the field stopped. McGonagall shouted an indignant, "Mr. Weasely!" into the microphone, the Gryffindor team burst out laughing, and the slytherin team all turned their brooms towards Ron and flew at him with terrifying speed on their Nimbus 2001’s.
This was all in a matter of five seconds.
Well, thought Ron, as he took off towards the woods to lay low for a while, there’s a price to pay for glory.
As Ron raced out of the stands, he caught a glimpse of Hermione’s face. Yeah, it was worth it.
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