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A Dispute over a Pink Ribbon

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"Hermione," said Ron in an awed voice. "Is this yours?"

She hastily turned around, praying that she wouldn't see what she thought she would see.

"No," she said quickly, her eyes widening. She snorted in a most un-Hermione like fashion. "Don't be silly, Ronald. It's probably Parvati or Lavender's. Now give it to me and I will pass it on to its rightful owner."

Ron's eyes suddenly twinkled, and he grinned at her. "You'll have to get it, I'm afraid," he said gleefully and stretched his arm up in the air.

Hermione gasped. "Ronald Weasley! I am appalled."

She glared at him as he waved the blasted thing just above her head, grinning as though he had just outdone himself. Then she sighed deeply, looked up at the object of her current hatred, and made a grab for it.

"Ha!" Ron shouted, jumping with glee. "It is yours! I bloody knew it!"

Hermione growled, threw herself at Ron and grabbed the wretched thing. They landed on the floor, Hermione on top of Ron, noses almost touching. She suddenly forgot how to breathe as he looked at her in a peculiar way. Then she remembered herself and muttered darkly,

"It. Is. Not. Mine."

Ron smirked. "If you say so, Hermione."

She stood up and offered him a hand, which he accepted.

Later that night, before she went to sleep, she fingered the pink ribbon. Then she looked down at it, smiled ruefully and smelled it, inhaling deeply. It smelled like Ron.

What had been an embarrassing childhood gift from her mother was now her most prized possession.

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A silly little drabble. What did you think?