A/N & Disclaimer: Not mine. Random one-shot. Yes, I ship weird couples – like Ron/Luna and this one.

Git

Ron was sitting at the Gryffindor table, minding his own business, or, in other words, eating breakfast.

"Morning, Weasley."

Ron looked around to see the Slytherin blond standing behind him.

"What do you want Malfoy?"

"Just to share some news."

"Oh, yeah?" Ron shot at him.

"Yeah…" Malfoy looked nervous. This stunned Ron – since when did Draco Malfoy get nervous?

"What is it, Malfoy? You're stinkin' up this area."

"Excuse me?" Malfoy had regained his composure. "Who's the bloodtraitor, here?"

"Well, obviously, it's me, but I thought we'd moved past that point?" Ron said in a rather bored tone. It was a year after the Battle of Hogwarts, and most seventh years that hadn't attended the previous year had opted for attending their eight year. Except for Harry, who'd been inducted into the Aurory almost instantly, and Hermione was still in the library. Malfoy sighed and made himself comfortable next to Ron.

"Yes, well, I've actually come to apologize."

Ron spluttered and choked on his bacon.

"I cannot believe you eat that." Malfoy said in disgust.

"Oh, shove off, Malfoy." Ron glared at him.

"Ignoring that obvious fail at a biting look, I truly want to apologize, Weasel… I mean Weasley. My eyes are open and tunnel-vision is now a thing of the past."

Ron's eyes narrowed. "Fine. But do not take me on about my eating habits."

"It's not that per se I have a problem with, Weasley, it's just the bacon."

"Well, I think I lost the line where I cared what the bloody hell you thought."

"Aw, you wound me."

"As long as it stings."

"I never knew you were so cold-hearted, Weasley. Wait, I take that back, I knew you were always like that. Which brings me to my next reason for disgracing myself and sitting at the Gryffindors' table."

"I'm ecstatic." Ron said sarcastically.

"Weasley, I think I might be in love with you."

Ron inhaled half a goblet of pumpkin juice up his nose. He spat and turned to Malfoy.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't enjoy repeating myself, Weasley, but just for this I will. I find your flaming hair fiery, your freckles are simply sweet sunspots, and as for your attire… well, we'll go shopping then, won't we?"

"What the… we?"

"Yes, as in you and I. Of course you will be going out with me on a date tonight, seeing as we, namely eight years, have free bounds, thus we can leave. I have already made reservations for us."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"No, not at all. Oh, here comes Granger, now kiss me and tell me you love me." He puckered his lips.

Ron slapped Malfoy across the head, jumped up and stalked off.

"Git."