I do not own any of the Harry potter stuff (dang). This story is dedicated to Vicky, A.k.a Ginny. (And my wonderful beta, Ree, a.k.a Ron- you honestly don't know how bad it was before I got it, not the actual story, just the grammar, from Ree)And it is based on my Christmas day this year (2006) where I ate an entire box of after eights to my self and well you can imagine. (Sugar hyped 16 year old)
so read no brave knight or what ever and please revies co well it would make my day and make me jump for toast.
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Ron sat opposite Hermione at the table in the common room, a box of muggle sweets open in front of him, "After Eights", and He was slightly hyper since he had eaten almost the entire box. (And by slightly hyper, I mean he was completely off his rocker, and should have been locked in a secure hospital for the mentally insane.)
As he had gone through the box of deliciously tempting sweets,(excuse me while I drool), he had screwed up their wrappers in to little balls, and then lined them up in front of him, in a row. Hermione was looking at him rather suspiciously as he munched his way through the rest of the box, continually scrunching up the wrappers and adding them to his line of balls.
By the time he had finished the box, (which only took him about half hour), he was on the biggest sugar hype of the century, (have you any idea the amount of sugar in one of those delicious sweets). Hermione was just about finished with her homework, (nearly, as in, had finished checking it for mistakes, for the 500th time, although there had been no mistakes in the first place).
Hermione looked up from her page and stared at Ron, who was sitting there, a wide stupid looking grin on his face, and he kept twitching and bobbing up and down.
"Um, Ron, are you ok?" enquired a Concerned Hermione
"FINEFINE, NEVER BETTER, FEEL LIKE A TURNIP ON TOP OF A MOUNTAIN, LA LA LA LA LA", yelled Ron, in the loudest voice possible.
"Ok," replied Hermione, and added as an after thought, "If you say so."
Ron bent low in his chair, and stared at his line of after eights papers. He had been staring at them for quite some time, when he started to laugh. (And laugh hysterically.)
PING. One of the papers shot across the table and hit Hermione on the head. She looked up, confused, just as a second paper flew at her, and only narrowly missed her nose, hitting her cheek instead.
"Ron, could you please stop that?"
"OK."
PING! Another paper flew across the table, and bounced off of her nose.
"RON!" She said in a stern and loud voice, so that only a baboon could have missed the fact she was serious, and getting annoyed. (But then Ron is a baboon.)
PING!
"WILL."
PING!
"YOU."
PING!
"STOP."
PING!
"THAT."
PING!
"PLEASE!!!"
PING! PING! PING!
"HARRY!"
"Eh? Someone call?" Said Harry, from over by the fireplace.
"Yes, will you please stop this baboon, (see, I told you so), from flicking, OOWW!" Another wrapper had just hit her in the eye.
"Ron, will you please stop it? Harry, if you don't stop him, I think I'm going to kill him."
Harry just laughed, as Ron sent another ball flying at Hermione.
"Oh, lighten up 'Mione. It's Christmas."
"Humph!" She huffed, and looked down at her page, now littered with sweet wrappers.
PING!
"Ron, if you don't stop that I will kill you!" Ron simply looked at her and laughed.
PING! Hermione sent a paper flying at Ron, and she was a considerably better aim than him, as the paper lodged it self up his nose.
PING! PING! PING! PING!
Papers were flying in every direction, as, what had started as a fun game to amuse a sugar hyped little idiot, turned in to a full scale war, Brains against Blunder; A.k.a. Hermione and Ron.
Spectators ducked for cover, as little paper balls shot at them at full speed.
It seemed Hermione was very good at this game and had charmed some of her papers to fly full pelt at Ron, then continually bounce off of his head and face as he tried to aim the balls at her, (a very effective technique on Hermiones part, as it stopped Ron seeing properly and ending up sending rouge papers at innocent bystanders).
After almost two hours of this paper flicking fun, Ron's hyperness started to ware off, and just as he hit reality, he was also hit with ten paper balls, (and the fact that all his after eights had been eaten).
"Ok who was that?" He yelled at the baffled common room.
"And who ate all my sweets?" He whined in a hurt tone. He started to stare around the room, as if trying to see the sweets in some ones stomach with laser vision. His gaze met Hermiones, and travelled along to her raised hand, still clutching a load of the crumpled sweet papers.
"It was you! You ate all my sweets! And then threw the papers paper at me, why do you mock me so?"
"I didn't! You ate them your self! Ok I threw the papers, but the eating part was all you."
"Then why do you have the wrappers in your hand? Ha get out of that one!"
"Ron, you ate the entire box of sweets, and then started to flick the papers at me, we then got in to a paper fight."
"What?" Ron looked at her with an expression of utter confusion on his face. He cast an eye around the room, and saw all the papers on the floor, and all the scared looking faces poking out from behind tables, that had been tilted on to their sides, to protect the hiders from the paper bullets.
"Really?"
Almost every one in the room nodded at this question, all accept Hermione, who just raised her eyebrows as if saying, "see told you so."
"Well, in that case, Hermione, don't ever, EVER! Buy me another box of those deliciously, delectable delicacies"
"Fine by me, next Christmas, I'll get you a box of Guylivan sea shells and a bag of mint crumbles."
"Oh goody! What are they?"
"Oh you'll see!" Was all Hermione said, before retreating to her dorm for a well-earned rest, after, "the battle of PING!" as many were now calling it.
This Christmas would not be forgotten too quickly. Brains and Blunder had made sure of that.