The Little Plot Bunny That Could

One morning, a small, fuzzy bunny hopped out of his hole on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. This bunny had a goal.

Ever since he was a tiny bunny, his brother and sisters had made fun of him because he was smaller and weaker than the rest of them. By time they were of Plotting age, all of them had hopped their way into the brains of countless unsuspecting fan fiction writers. All of them, that is, except for this one smaller, weaker bunny.

But now, he was about to prove himself to his hundreds of brothers and sisters. He was going to hop into someone's brain, and not allow that someone a moment of sleep until they had written out his plot! Not the plot of one of his siblings... his!

"Today is my day!" the little Plot Bunny declared to a nearby stump.

Unfortunately for the involved characters, this little Plot Bunny was a novice Plotter, had zero experience, and thought he could make do with reading just the Sparknotes...

~

Draco Malfoy was drawing. He could never recall having drawn anything in his life, save for some idle doodling in the margins of his History of Magic notes. But he had awoken from his beauty sleep that morning with the desire to draw. And not just anything... he wanted to draw a masterpiece. Something that would capture his soul and make him immortal so that a thousand year from now, Hogwarts first years would walk into the castle for the first time and gaze up in awe at the beautiful piece of artwork that he was currently putting up on the entrance hall walls.

"What the bloody hell is this?"

The sound of these six crude words snapped him out of his artistic reverie. Standing at the foot of the marble staircase were Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley. It was the last of the said three who had made the vulgar pronouncement.

"Is Malfoy drawing?" Harry asked the other two, quite sure that he was hallucinating.

"Is he drawing on the school walls?" said Hermione, utterly horrified.

"Why, yes, Granger. I am," said Draco, grinning maniacally.

"What is wrong with you?" Hermione cried, brandishing her wand in his face. "That's defacement of school property, that is! How could you?!"

"Don't worry, Hermione," said Ron, gazing around the hall in awe. "It's for the greater good of wizardkind. We should be applauding him. Draco's a hero."

There was dead silence.

"Very funny, Ron," said Harry. "Now why don't we stop playing along with whatever Malfoy's up to and go have some breakfa - "

"Don't mock what you don't understand, Harry," Ron snapped.

"Ron, what are you saying?" said Hermione. "Are you defending Malfoy?"

"He understands," said Draco, coming to stand next to Ron. "Ron here knows what I know."

"And what exactly is that?" said Harry, irritated.

But before either of the two boys could answer, there was a loud explosion that erupted from inside the Great Hall.

"Come, Ronald!" cried Draco. "That signal means we've been discovered! We must take refuge in the bowels of the castle!"

The two of them took off at a run, leaving Harry and Hermione to goggle after them in confusion.

"I have to stop them!" Harry yelled at no one in particular. "If I don't, the whole castle will soon be covered in Malfoy's attempts to recreate the Mona Lisa!"

He started after them in a fury.

"No - Harry - stop - !" said Hermione, pulling him back by the neck of his robes. "It's not up to you to stop them!"

"Of course it is!" said Harry, looking scandalised. "I'm the Chosen One! I'm the bloody Boy Who Lived!"

"Oh, shut up, don't try to feed me that rubbish," snapped Hermione. "Why do you always have to play the hero? It's always you whom we have to protect because you are the one who's supposed to stop Voldemort. Why do the books always have to be named after you? Why is it always about you, Harry Potter?"

Harry blinked.

"I think you're missing the point here," he said. "The point is, Malfoy and Ron are going to wreak havoc throughout the school if I - er - we - don't do something to stop them!"

"You're right, Harry," said Hermione. "I think we need to see the headmaster."

"Good idea," said Harry.

Hermione opened the doors to the Great Hall, but before they could walk through them, Fred and George came bursting out.

"I don't know what's wrong with those people!" Fred was saying indignantly.

"Carrying on like that, as though school is supposed to be fun!" said George in disgust.

"This is a place of learning, for heaven's sake! We should be studying, not enjoying a laugh over an exploding coffee pot over breakfast!" Fred proclaimed, gesticulating wildly with his whole body.

"Some people have no respect for education," said George, shaking his head. "And what are you two looking at?"

"Er... nothing," said Harry, quickly rushing past them to get into the Great Hall.

"You two really need to lighten up," Hermione told the twins. "Come on, life's too short to be worrying about schoolwork."

The twins gasped, staring at Hermione as though she had just uttered the most shocking and blasphemous of words.

"Life is schoolwork!" cried Fred dramatically.

"Exactly!" said George. "Come on, Fred. Let's go to the library."

And the two stalked off, muttering under their breath about foolish children who joked around when they ought to be studying the ways to improve cauldron bottom thickness.