"Ron! Are you even listening to me?" a fuming Hermione spat.

"Hmmm?"

"Urgh! Why can't you pay attention for a second, you insolent jerk?" Hermione plopped her behind down on the nearest sofa. A stray feather popped out. She crossed her arms fervidly, like a child and turned her lips upside down, giving Ron a sour look.

Ron was completely captivated by the mince pies that he was shoving into his stuffed mouth. His chewing muffled Hermione's voice; he was in his own little fantasy world…of food.

They were at the Burrow, alone, fighting to hold their relationship together. Ron was at the dining room table bingeing on all types of food trying to drown Hermione out. He became annoyed when she yelled at him. He hated fighting with her, but it seemed quite inevitable. Hermione was a stubborn, headstrong, and suffered from anger management…obviously. To tell you the truth Ron was scared of her. He could almost feel the fury that radiated from her sitting form. He would rather be quiet and not talk because she would interrupt him anyway.

He decided to drown his 'sorrows' in pies, candy, fruit (only healthy food), pumpkin juice, roast beef, ham, mashed potatoes, those little chicken wings, which was all covered with whipped cream…literally.

Hermione nearly gagged in her mouth as she watched him continue. He was like a bottomless pit. This raised her temper just a bit more. She leaned over to the other side of couch and picked up a pillow that she flung at Ron's head, which missed by four feet. She did always have a bad aim. Not her best forte. She stood up.

"Ron you're such a jerk. Why don't you ever listen to me?"

He continued to ignore her. "Do you love food more than me?" Her face lit up in bewilderment. He still didn't answer, causing her face to turn bright red in frustration.

She tried another pillow, hitting the table instead, causing all his food to spray all over him. It landed particularly on a spoon that was embedded in fluffy, white mashed potatoes. The spoon flew out of the bowl, splashing warm potatoes on his already beet-red face.

Hermione's jaw dropped in surprise, instinctively causing her to place her cupped hand around her mouth; she was trying not to laugh at the sight of Ron. At that moment, all of her anger left her body. She couldn't help the choked sound that escaped her throat. Her eyes were tearing from the contained laughter in her system.

Ron glared at her, wiping the potatoes of his face. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," she pursed her lips, trying desperately not to giggle. A high-pitched squeal left her mouth, leaving no guard for the rest of her laughter, which came streaming out in hysteria.

"You think this is funny, do you?" He couldn't help, but smile at the tears that came out of her eyes. To get back at her he grabbed a hand of potatoes and threw them at her. Hermione gasped in shock as they landed on both her face and hair around her right temple.

"Why'd you do th--"

She didn't finish because he flung a pie at her, which landed on her chest.

"Oh you little bugger!" She ran over to the table and grabbed food to throw at him.

Five minutes later, they were caked with Merlin knows what. They landed in a heap on the kitchen floor, laughing their dear hearts out.

A silence came, filling the air with sweet tension.

"I don't love food more than you Hermione. It's just that you never let me talk so I try to shut you out. Merlin you can be too damn stubborn for me sometimes." He said in a rush.

Hermione gazed into his eyes lovingly. "Say it again?"

"Wha--"

"I love you too Ron."

"I love you Hermione."

"When did you become the talkative type. I never thought I'd see the day where you would tell me off. Ron if you felt that way you should have told me be--"

Ron cut her off with a passionate kiss. It started off slowly, a slight brush of his lips to hers. He became more demanding, asking for entrance with his gentle tongue; he received it willingly. They became more aggressive as a dire need flowed through their bodies. Ron stood up, helping up Hermione as well. She flung her arms around his neck longingly. She secretly let one go behind her back to the table where a quarter bowl of potatoes was left untouched. She grabbed a handful, breaking their union, and shoved them into his face and hair.

She squealed in delight as he chased her up to their bedroom, where the promise of the night called them and would continue for the rest of their lives.