All right, you "abusive bickering" crack hos. Here's your Ron/Hermione. :D

It's a very short vignette, since I've pretty much used up all my R/H bunnies over the past few weeks.


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"C'mon, Hermione! Just question 12." Ron leaned across the table and had barely touched the edge of Hermione's homework before she snatched it away.

"No," she said icily, holding the parchment close. "Is it my fault you've been busy with Lavender all evening? You can learn to do all your own work from now on."

He glared at her and folded his arms. "You let Harry copy it."

"Maybe that's because Harry was doing homework for other classes, while you were latched onto Lavender's face like a Dementor at a Christmas party." She stuffed the parchment into one of the books stacked high beside her, then returned to her work, her quill scratching furiously. "I've been here all night," she went on as she wrote, "trying to catch up on all this work. Some people actually do their assignments, Ron Weasley."

"Okay!" he exclaimed. "You sound like my mum." He slammed one of his books open. "Only she doesn't sound quite as much like a banshee."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "I do not sound like a banshee. And even if I did, it's better than sounding like a giggling... stupid..." She trailed off, gave a disgusted sigh, and looked down at her book again.

"You're just jealous," he muttered.

The few seconds of silence before she answered seemed to stretch over a week. "Jealous?" she repeated in a dangerous tone. "Of what?"

"Because Lavender has a boyfriend, and you don't."

Hermione's cheeks were flushed with anger, but she smirked a little. "But look what she's got for a boyfriend."

They glared at each other for some time, then both got back to their homework, their quills and turning pages the only sounds that disrupted the stony silence. When Hermione blinked her eyes and squinted into the quiet darkness in confusion, she realized that she had fallen asleep on her books. She rubbed her eyes and sat up slowly, stretching the sore arm that had been her pillow. Ron was gone, and she actually wished for his company - however unpleasant - now that she faced the prospect of staying up all night and finishing her work. She didn't remember him leaving, which must mean that he had left her asleep there. This thought made her even more irritated. Looking more closely, she saw that he had even left some of his work behind. Couldn't he even clean up after him---

As she picked up the rolls of parchment, a scrap of paper fluttered to the table, and Hermione picked it up.

Just copy these and give them to me at breakfast. 'Night. -Ron.

"Yes," she thought. "I'm jealous."