Unified Front

"I'm not angry, Hermione. I just think it's a terrible oversight. There is so much injustice in the world," Ron said, expelling a long-suffering sigh.

Hermione frowned and placed her hands on hips. She stood in the doorway of the private dining area at The Three Broomsticks. Harry and Ginny sat at the table with Ron, who was doing his best to avoid Hermione's glare at the moment.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Ron! I didn't write the script!" Hermione sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. This was getting very old.

"I know that! Of course, they'll probably put your name on the cover and give you credit for it," he said uncharitably. Hermione's eyes darkened and she turned on her heel and stalked over to the bar.

"Honestly Ron, it was one line," Harry said.

"But Harry, it was my line. I'm supposed to be brave, and the script completely undermined that fact. When we're in the Shrieking Shack, I'm supposed to tell Sirius--"

"I know, I know: if he wants to kill me, he'll have to kill you and Hermione, too. And listen mate, don't think that I don't appreciate it. It was a very generous offer," Harry said.

"You're just trying to placate me," Ron sniffed, but straightened up a bit in his chair and thrust his chin out. Hermione walked back over to the table and made quite a gesture of handing a bottle of butterbeer to Ginny and then Harry. Holding one more bottle in her hand, she coolly looked at Ron for a moment, then reached into the pocket of her robe and produced a fourth bottle which she put on the table in front of him. He mumbled something that sounded like 'hey who' and she appeared to be satisfied.

"You've been rather quiet, Ginny. What did you think of the film?" Harry asked nervously.

"Yes, you haven't had much to say since the movie came out," Hermione observed.

"It's called method acting, Granger," a voice drawled. The group turned to find Draco Malfoy leaning in the doorway. He smirked, and then sauntered over to the table. Ignoring Ginny's scowl, he sat in the chair beside her and elegantly plunked his bottle of butterbeer in front of him.

"Weasley," he drawled, addressing Ron, "I barely recognized you without that dodgy hat."

"You're one to talk about hats, Malfoy!" Hermione said.

"You haven't a clue about fashion, Granger. I'll have you know, that hat was a traditional Russian ushanka," he said without a trace of embarrassment.

"It turns out that Hermione does know a few things about kicking your ass," Ron said angrily.

"Elegantly stated, Weasley," Draco drawled.

"Oh, enough! At least you all had moments. I suppose I had gotten rather comfortable playing a pivotal part in so many fanfics that I forgot my part is not quite so developed by the third book," Ginny said glumly.

"After the fifth book, it's obvious that you'll become very, um, instrumental, Ginny," Harry said kindly.

Draco snorted. "Instrumental? Honestly. Oh, this is just painful to watch. It's a good thing you have that scar to distract women from your abysmal colloquia. Instrumental indeed!"

Harry flushed, and looked extremely confused, but altogether put out. He reached for his wand, but was interrupted by Hermione.

"Well, Ginny, we have talked about this before. Sometimes the fanon does distort the canon. There are so many clichés about that after a while it does become difficult to differentiate true canon from ideas generated outside of the books," Hermione said.

"Ginny. Ginny, Ginny, Ginny," Draco sighed. When the rest of the table looked at him in confusion, he continued to lock his eyes on Ginny's. "Ginevra," he drawled.

"What? Knock it off Malfoy," she said irritably.

"I'm trying to demonstrate a cliché. The one in which I use your proper first name, thereby causing you to swoon in delighted confusion and break up the flow of an otherwise pleasantly mediocre tale to comment about it."

"Comment?"

"You, you called me by my first name," Draco said breathlessly, placing his hand to his heart for emphasis.

"I never said that! Why would they think I sound like that?" she asked irritably.

"I really don't care, Ginevra," Draco drawled.

"Are you insulting my name? Because let me tell you something: my name is the Italian form of Guinevere, derived from Gwenhyfar. It's romantic, it's historical..."

"Actually, Guinevere had an affair with Mordred, which was the catalyst for the battle of Camlann. Arthur and Mordred both perished in that battle," Hermione noted.

"Ah, well done little sister. You might not be a footnote in the history books after all. What arch rivals are you destined to fall in love with?" Fred asked from the doorway.

"And be the death of?" added George.

Hermione surveyed her companions. Ginny and Harry both flushed, each studying objects apparently located in their laps. Draco arched an eyebrow and stared at George expectantly. And Ron. Well, once again, Hermione couldn't help but note that Ron's expression did look a bit vacant.

"Actually I think the text gives blatantly obvious allusions toward my entanglement in a torrid love triangle between Fleur and Madame Rosmerta," George said, swelling his chest.

"Dream on, you incredible git!" Ginny laughed. Fred and George simultaneously tipped their hats and turned to join Katie Bell and Lee Jordan at the bar.

Ron smiled a little at his sister, then rolled his eyes. "You know what's going to be the death of me?" he asked.

"Waking up next to Granger for the next fifty years?" Draco suggested. Ron ignored this.

"Maroon?" Harry smiled.

"Oh, sod off," Ron said, allowing his lip to curl into a faint smile. "I do wish the fanon wouldn't make quite such a big deal about it. But at least I'm not condemned to fall in love with Loony Lovegood a couple dozen times."

"What is all this rubbish about you fancying Luna Lovegood?" Ginny asked innocently.

"Oh, hell, Ginny. I haven't the faintest idea," he said, rumpling his hair. "I thought she fancied Ron actually," he added as an afterthought.

"She doesn't!" Hermione said quickly. "I mean, I think it's pretty clear that she and Neville are meant to be together."

"Did you see Neville? Did you? I'm supposed to let him take me to the Yule Ball in the next movie!" Ginny wailed.

"Of course we saw him. We actually had scenes with him," Draco smirked. Ginny huffed, then paid an enormous amount of attention to the clasp on her bracelet.

Harry grimaced, which looked suspiciously like he was struggling to keep from smiling.

"Your part was played very well. Quiet, unassuming...." Hermione began.

"Don't patronize me, Hermione," Ginny sulked.

"And the line about the Fat Lady being missing was pivotal to the second half of the movie," Harry added kindly.

"Yes, it was an invaluable contribution to the next twenty scenes of Potter and Granger running hand-in-hand through the pumpkin patch," Draco drawled.

"I hadn't noticed," Ginny sniffed.

"Right," Draco said under his breath.

"Well," Hermione said, looking quite flustered, "the Yule Ball scene might not be shot for the next year. That's plenty of time for Longbottom to complete puberty. Oh, Ron, do shut up!" she snapped, which only caused Ron to laugh harder and bury his face in his hands.

"Will someone remind me why you are all sitting around fretting about Longbottom?" Draco asked.

"We're not. Anyway, some of the fanon clichés are based on rather thought-provoking theories," Hermione said.

Draco steepled his fingers. "Perhaps. I do wish they would bin all the speculation on my relationship with my father. It's a bit creepy."

"What about the ferret references? I rather enjoy those," Harry said. Hermione and Ron both laughed.

Draco narrowed his eyes and whipped his head toward Harry. "Don't you have an invisibility cloak you could be bawling under?" he asked slowly.

Harry stopped smiling. He leaned toward Draco and lowered his head a bit. "As a matter of fact, I do. I'm using it to hide Buckbeak at the moment. Would you care to fetch it?"

Draco drew in a great breath. "Perhaps I will. You never know when a Dementor is about. It would be simply terrible for your little friends to find you in a heap somewhere," he drawled. The table fell silent.

"I can see why they heap such heavy praise on you. You're clearly the emotional center of the Gryffindors," Draco continued in a neutral voice.

"That is enough!" Ginny hissed. Harry looked slightly surprised, while Draco merely looked bored and drew in a great breath as he turned his head toward the fireplace.

"It's alright. Malfoy can think whatever he wants," Harry said in a low voice, staring at Draco. He drew his eyes to Ginny and noting her worried expression, he extended his pinky. "I swear." She returned the gesture and gave a small smile as they made a pinky swear. Their hands remained connected for a brief moment more before each of them nervously retracted, noticing Ron's curious expression.

"What--?" Ron began.

"It's a muggle thing, you wouldn't understand," Hermione said sweetly.

Ginny rifled through her pocket and pulled out a few coins. "More butterbeer, anyone?" Harry and Ron both nodded, but Draco elegantly gave a wave of dismissal. He touched his wand to his bottle and it automatically refilled.

"You might have done that for the rest of us," Ron said.

"Why?" Draco asked.

"Out of the goodness of your heart," Ron said. Draco gave him a withering look. "Oh, right," Ron said.

"You can share some of mine, Ron. You know, until Ginny comes back," Hermione said, blushing. Ron and Harry turned their attention to Hermione, and Draco rose from the table.

Ginny walked back toward the room neatly balancing three bottles in one hand.

"Need some help?"

Ginny jumped. Draco was leaning on his elbows against the window ledge outside of the dining room. He took the bottles and sat them on an empty ale barrel. The spaces between the wooden blinds allowed thin bands of moonlight to reflect off of the bottles.

"What are you doing?" asked Ginny suspiciously. Draco gave her a look of bland interest as she unnecessarily adjusted the charm on her necklace.

"Demonstrating another cliché," Draco said, closing the distance between them with two steps. She had never been this close to him before. This attention made her extremely self conscious, and she looked over his shoulder at the closed dining room door for several seconds before mustering up the ability to return his stare.

"And what is that Malfoy? Going to called me Weaselette? Going to let me discover your Dark Mark at some inopportune time?" she asked sharply before she could stop herself.

He turned his palm upward and casually lifted his arm, allowing his sleeve to drop back to reveal his bare arm. His skin was unflawed. He dropped his arm, allowing his hand to trace the length of her arm during the dissent, his fingers lingered on hers for a moment.

"OFF!"

Ginny's eyes snapped toward Harry, who was standing in the doorway. Draco casually turned around.

"Potter. Is there something I can do for you?" Draco asked in a very discouraging tone.

"Go away." Harry said slowly.

"Ah, well, that I won't be doing anytime soon. Besides, I was only trying to help. The door was stuck. She couldn't get it open," Draco said indignantly, crossing his arms.

"So open it then. You're magical, aren't you?" Harry said angrily.

***

"What was that about?" Hermione asked, as Harry, Ginny, and Draco all silently took their seats.

"I was merely demonstrating the classic fairy tail archetype," Draco began, "in which the knight in shining armor rescues the princess from the--."

"Mountain troll?" Ron offered.

"Wicked step-mother? Evil Count?" Hermione asked.

"Dragon," Ginny mumbled. Draco smirked, then winked at her. She blushed and checked to see if Harry had noticed.

He had.

"Relax, Potter. Haven't you read any fairy tales? Don't you already know how this ends?" Draco said in a bored voice.

"No, and no," Harry said, looking confused.

"Well, perhaps it's about time you started reading fairy tales, Potter. I know you generally like to wing it with this good-versus-evil thing you have going, but honestly, it wouldn't hurt to have a clue about the girl bit," Draco drawled.

"Oh! There are some lovely books in the library, Harry!" Hermione said brightly. "I'll show you where they are when I go to help Ron with his Potions essay."

"Potions. That could very well be the death of me!" Ron said.

"Probably being my best friend isn't doing much for your odds of survival," Harry said darkly.

"Don't be daft, Harry," Ginny said mildly, making Harry blush when she patted his hand. "Did Hans Solo die? Did Jimmy Olsen snuff it? Did Sam get smelted in the fire? No, no, and no. Ron's become an important enough supporting male character to survive."

"Er, thanks," Ron said awkwardly. "Then I wonder what will mark my demise."

"Waking up next to me for the next fifty years," Hermione said neutrally, looking straight ahead, but smiling a little when Ron's bottle of butterbeer landed on the floor.