Title: Vendetta to you

Genre: Harry Potter

Warning: Slight slash, swear word...bit of angst

Rating: pg-13

Summary: Sometimes, Ron's thoughts are a little open minded.

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Anything worth doing is worth doing well.

Ron's mother has told him this a dozen times; mostly during the summer, over an essay he's rushed through or a chore he's yet to complete. He knows this is true; because if he took his time, he could get good grades like Hermione, have Quidditch talent like Harry, or even be sub-standard at something other then chess.

He just doesn't want to waste his effort on something that will be ignored for someone more important anyways. What's the point?

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Music is magic for the soul.

Ron likes listening to Oasis in his room, the windows wide open as the rain comes pouring down. Hermione bought him the cd of muggle music before her last trip in, and Ron finds it bloody fantastic, like a drug. It's the sort of music that makes him think of his own flat, painted in black and white and chrome galore, with a big open window overlooking downtown traffic.

It's the sort of music that makes him wonder if things would have been different, had he been born a muggle; had he not met Harry Potter.

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You don't get anywhere's if you take one step forward and two steps back.

Ron's tried, relentlessly, to make this work in favor for him, but it doesn't, and he always ends up in the same spot as he started. It's a lot like being at home, or at school, and he doesn't think he can handle it anymore; because Harry's at home now, and school's nothing more then a place to be taught how to fight for the side of Light. Ron doesn't want to fight; Ron just wants to graduate; get out alive; and take a trip out of England, out of Scotland, out of here, to some where that won't remind him that his best friend is destined to die in a fight he can't prevent.

Ron wishes that, for once in his life, he could take four steps forward and none back.

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There's a thin line between love and hate.

The line's there; it teases and taunts Ron because there's nothing he can do about it. He hate's that he's fallen for the rebel; for the bad boy; for his own worst enemy. Harry's got Voldemort, Hermione's got Pansy, Neville's got Snape, and who does he get? Draco Malfoy, bane of his existence. He fights with him, punches and kicks and taunts and teases and really, it's a shame.

Because all he really wants to do is trap him in one of the corners of the school and kiss his breath away.

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Kissing in the rain tastes so sweet.

Ron can't be sure of this, but he knows it sounds good. He just hopes he lives long enough to find out.

Fin