Title:Names
Author:AidenDavis
Pairing:Harry/Ron
Word Count: c.450
Summary: Hermione listens to another squabble and fit of namecalling between the boys.
A/N: They belong to JKR. Don't sue.

On a side note, the howler in my icon is supposed to be from Harry. Didn't really know how to make that clear.

Hermione was sitting on the couch, her face hidden by the day's Daily Prophet, when the two came in, Ron shouting the first insult.

"Over-dramatic Martyr."

"Squib wanna-be."

You had to have seen several of their fights to tell the difference. There were times when even Hermione was unable to tell when they crossed the surprisingly fine line between strange terms of endearment, name-calling, and actual fighting. It didn't make it easier that all three very often ended up with heavy snogging, and… other things.

"Impotent tosser."

"Sack of bubotuber pus."

Hermione classified this one as a name-calling session. A level two, at best. She moved on to the next article.

"Brainless git."

"Lousy Poufter."

Hermione thought back to when the three of them had first moved into this flat, each into their own rooms. Well, that was what they had wanted her to think. She sighed. It had been a sad day when they had 'broken the news' to her about their new relationship. She had, of course, figured it out long ago. But her knowing meant she had to miss out on her favorite sport: their excuses. They always had an inventive and curious reason for why they were entangled on the couch when she came in the front door. And a perfectly implausible excuse for being so scantily clad in the kitchen when she apparated home from work. Her favorite, of course, was the final incident; when she had been sitting in the living room as the two had walked out of the shower together; in one towel.

"Tiny wankered Sissy."

"Bitch."

She had noticed, around last week, that they had run out of creative names, and begun recycling old ones from Hogwarts. Funnily enough, the ones used by Malfoy. They refrained from most of the nastier ones, most of the time.

"Scarhead."

"Weasel."

Speak of the devil.

"Boy Who Takes it in the—" Harry cut him off this time.

"Bilius."

Hermione looked up from her reading at Harry, and then Ron. That was a new one.

"Oh, that's low. That is so low. No one calls me by my middle name and gets away with it."

In one swift motion, Ron dove for Harry's midsection, but in a swifter one, Harry jumped up and back. The floor shook as Ron hit it.

"Ow."

"Honestly." Hermione covered her face in the Daily Prophet again.

Ron's retaliation shook the bookcase on the wall, and Hermione heard the vase wobble to the edge, and then stop wobbling. She shoved the paper down. "Accio!"

The vase shot straight into her hand, arrested in its free-fall.

"I knew I shouldn't have tried to put this in here." She stood up and walked into her room with the vase and the newspaper. As she left, she heard the wrestling stop. She decided to finish reading elsewhere.

A/N: Okay, so it's still somewhere between drabble and ficlet.