Ron's Turn

Nefertiri's Handmaiden

Disclaimer: I own diddly. I own squat. Diddly-Squat.

Note: This one was brewing in my head while I was reading a particularly good fic by SaraDarling called 'Not on Speaking Terms' in which Ron punches Malfoy. It occurred to me that Ron is the only one who has yet to actually hit Malfoy (in the books). Harry's done it (OotP), Hermione's done it (PoA), and I supposed it was Ron's turn.

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Ron was sick of Malfoy.

It was the middle of their Sixth Year (a year that was, without a doubt, the most dangerous they had faced yet) and Ron decided he'd had enough. He wasn't going to let Malfoy torture him any more.

So as he stood there, holding back Harry with the help of Hermione, listening to Malfoy question Harry's parentage, insult Ron's. . . err. . . lack of financial stability, and call Hermione things that were rather rude (to use a major understatement), Ron told himself that he was finished just listening.

"You know, Malfoy," started Ron nonchalantly, cutting the Slytherin boy off. "You're a disgusting pig."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "Watch it, Weasel," he hissed. "You might say something you'll regret."

"Oh, I doubt that, Ferret-boy," continued Ron casually, letting go of Harry, who had stopped struggling and was starring at Ron with a mixture of shock and admiration, Hermione mimicking him. "You see, I've decided that you really are the foulest being to ever walk the earth."

"Is that so, Weasel? At least I don't LIVE in one of the foulest places on the earth."

"Beside that, you rat-faced mama's boy," Ron said, as if he'd not heard Malfoy's remark, "You really need to shut the bloody hell up,"

"Who's going to make me?" asked Malfoy maliciously.

"Me," responded Ron. It was rather amazing how he had managed to keep his cool demeanor.

"You and what army?" sneered Malfoy. He was attempting to stay as offhand as Ron, but they could see his blood beginning to boil.

"I don't need an army, gel-head," said Ron, who had strolled closer to Malfoy as Hermione and Harry gaped openly. "It happens to be that you're such a pathetic excuse for a witch – sorry, wizard - that I could take you alone."

Malfoy snapped. He threw a punch at Ron, but the red-haired hero was too quick for him. He grabbed Malfoy's fist in mid-air with his left hand, and punched Malfoy as hard as he could in the stomach with his right. Malfoy's eyes went wide with pain and his hand fell. Ron slammed his hand into Malfoy's stomach again, and the slimy blonde boy doubled over. Ron pulled his fist back one more time, hit Malfoy square on the jaw, and there was a loud crack as it broke.

Malfoy slumped to the floor, and Crabbe and Goyle stared at Ron, a little frightened and confused without a leader. Then they gathered what little wits they had, picked up Malfoy, and headed to the Hospital Wing.

Meanwhile, Hermione and Harry stared at Ron, who had turned around, shaking his hand out. He met their eyes and grinned.

"Do you know how long I've waited to do that? Six years! It took me six years to get a chance to pummel that stupid git! Damn, that felt good!" And he headed up the stairs toward the Common Room. Hermione and Harry looked at each other then up the stairs after Ron.

"Damn," said Harry.

"Oh, he's going to be in so much trouble," worried Hermione.

They looked at each other again.

"Well, good for him. Malfoy got what he deserved," concluded Harry. Hermione simply began to chew on her bottom lip.

And they hurried up the stairs after Ron.

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