A/N: It is 1.25 in the morning on the 22, March. I am half asleep, and yet, I pull out my pen and paper and start writing. Here is the result.

Defending Your Honour

He was punched in the face so hard that he dropped to the ground. He was kicked in the ribs once, twice. He grabbed the foot as it swung towards him a third time and yanked, kicking his own foot out and hitting his attacker's free foot, causing said attacker to crumble to the ground.

Crack!

The skull bounced off of the cement, the attacker looking surprised. Ron rolled away and slowly clambered to his feet, the crowd of people unsure whether to help him up or not. Ron straightened himself, his breathing shallow.

'Don't you ever call my girlfriend that again,' he growled before turning and limping away.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows and looked at the clock; 11.18 pm. Putting her book down, Hermione got up and opened the front door.

'Ron!' she exclaimed as her beaten and battered boyfriend all but collapsed onto her.

Holding him up as best she could (he was taller and heavier than she was), Hermione dragged him into her flat and closed the door.

'Sweet Circe, Ron,' she whispered as she sat him on her couch. 'What happened?'

Hermione started to undo the buttons on Ron's shirt as he groaned and let his head fall back, his eyes closing. She briefly caressed his cheek before going back to the buttons of his shirt and gently pushing it down his arms. She inhaled sharply.

'My God,' she breathed. 'Ron, did you get into a fight?'

Ron nodded weakly and Hermione huffed.

'Why would you fight, Ronald? What was the point?' she muttered, pointing her wand at his ribs. 'Sanare.'

Ron whimpered slightly in pain and Hermione felt her heart crack a little. She gently pressed her lips against his cheek.

'Ow.'

'I'm sorry it hurts luv,' she whispered.

Ron opened one eye and Hermione shook her head.

'I thought you and Harry were only going for a drink.'

'Defending honour,' he groaned, his eye closing again.

Hermione frowned slightly.

'Honour?'

Ron nodded.

'Yours.'

Hermione felt her heart swell.

'You ... you got into a fight to defend my honour?' she asked softly.

Ron nodded and Hermione gently pressed her lips against his. He grunted in pain.

'Jaw,' he groaned.

Hermione brushed her fingers against Ron's jaw.

'Is it broken?'

'I think so,' he gritted out.

Hermione healed his jaw with the same spell she used to heal his ribs and then summoned a bowl of warm water and a wash cloth. Ron eyed it suspiciously and Hermione gave him a small smile.

'Since you fought like a Muggle, I think it's only fair that I clean you up like a Muggle,' she whispered, dipping the cloth in the water.

Ron gave her the ghost of a grin. Hermione smiled back and wrung the cloth out.

'So what happened?' she asked gently.

'Harry left early and I was going to finish my drink then come back here,' said Ron, wincing slightly as Hermione wiped as gently as she could at the blood at the side of his mouth. 'I paid for my drink and went to leave when some drunk guy comes up to me and starts talking to about you. He said he'd seen us -- you and me -- before and then he started calling you a whore and I cracked and threw a punch at him. He came back with a punch of his own and it caught me off guard.

'I fell and he started kicking at me. Finally, I got a hold of his foot and knocked him off of his feet, stood and came home.'

Hermione smiled slightly as she absorbed that Ron had basically called her 'home'. She dabbed as gently as possible at the cuts on his face before Ron took the cloth from her and gently tugged on her hand, dropping the cloth to the floor. He kept tugging until she was settled on his lap. He kissed her deeply, his hand twisting its way into her hair. Hermione gave a groan and pulled back slightly.

'Thank you,' she whispered.

'What for?'

'Defending my honour,' she murmured.

Ron brushed back some of her hair.

'You're welcome,' he breathed. 'So you're not angry at me for fighting?'

Hermione smiled at him again.

'Not this time.'

Fin

A/N: It's now 2.04 am. No idea. Don't ask. I don't even remember writing this, to be honest.