Ron sniffled, and rubbed his left eye.
"Ron, stop touching your face! Whatever is wrong, you're only going to make it worse. Do you have any idea how many germs are on your hands!" Hermione lectured, grabbing his hand away, and immediately releasing it.
"RONALD! That's disgusting! When is the last time you washed your hands?" she yelped.
"This morning, I think. I don't know, why? I've already got one mum, she's bad enough, 'Mione," Ron replied peevishly.
He stomped away, to wash his hands, just to shut Hermione up.
His nose dripping, Ron furiously scrubbed his hands in the sink. Disgusting, I'll show her. While thoroughly scouring his hands, Ron heard a gasping, drowned noise from the third stall to the left.
Funny, doesn't Myrtle usually haunt the girl's rooms?Ugh, she's so nettlesome.
"Get out of here, nobody cares, alright. Go mourn in the girl's room or something," Ron humphed. The stall door slammed open, and Theodore stormed out, looking viciously livid.
"You fucking Weasleys, I'm gonna slaughter your whole family one day. I suppose it wouldn't take more than four seconds, considering the size of your house. First your skanky-ass sister, fucking with my boyfriend. And you, you wanna know something? Your precious Hermy, she's shagged Draco at least four times. So you just shut the fuck up." he hissed, wiping his face dry with an angry movement.
Ronald stood stunned, the sink still running cold water over his now pristine hands.
He called down the hallway, "I'm sorry! I thought you were Moaning Myrtle, I didn't know..."
I didn't know Slytherins could cry.