Unified Front

By: JennyfromtheBurrow

 

 

“So what are we doing here, Mudblood?” drawled Draco Malfoy

 

“Well, I just wanted to clear some things up. I’m very concerned that all the fan fiction will distort the canon. We have to be proactive with PoA coming out this summer,” Hermione said.

 

Hermione, Draco, Ron, and Harry sat around a small table in a corner of The Three Broomsticks. Ron had reached for his wand for the third time in ten minutes at Malfoy’s use of the word ‘Mudblood’, but Hermione had placed her hand on his wrist which succeeded in making retract his wand and blush.

 

“It’s important to have a unified front and let everyone know that up until this point everything has been platonic with the main characters,” Hermione continued.

 

“Right, like the PoA publicity picture of Harry with his arms wrapped around you doesn’t send a mixed message,” Ron said sourly.

 

“Do tell,” drawled Draco

 

“It’s all over the bloody internet. People changing their web pages left and right in tribute of their little jaunt under the Whomping Willow! All I got was a lousy group shot with the back of my head in the Shrieking Shack!”

 

“Well I can’t change that,” Hermione said impatiently. “What concerns me is not the publicity shots. It’s the fan fiction on the internet.”

 

“Since Potter spent his youth in a cupboard and Weasley spent his in a bin, you may want to enlighten them on what the internet is.”

 

“Well,” Hermione said, “the internet is a communications tool used the world over where people can come together to bitch about movies and share pornography with one another.”

 

“What the Eff was that? You totally ripped off Kevin Smith! And I DO know what the internet is!” Ron said. Harry just nodded rapidly.

 

“Granger does have a point,” Draco said. The others looked at him in surprise. “I mean, fan fiction is great publicity for the Boy Who Lived, but have you read any?! Honestly, I’ve had a romp with everyone from the Mudblood to Snape!”

 

“Oh, now it’s getting spicy,” Fred said as he and George emerged from a neighboring booth. No one had noticed them. Fred and George pulled their chairs around the table.

 

“Isn’t it a bit odd that Malfoy is here sitting with us. And not flanked by his henchmen no less?” George asked.

 

“Well, Weasley, it’s a small corner. And all Crabbe and Goyle do is grunt and agree with me. They can do it from over there.” Draco nodded toward the bar where Crabbe and Goyle raised and butterbeer, nodded at everyone at the table and seemed to grumble among themselves.

 

Just then the door opened and Ginny Weasley walked in. She looked suspiciously at Draco.  “Malfoy,” she stated icily.

 

“We’re trying to come to an agreement about how we’re represented in cyberspace,” Harry explained.

 

“Well, I don’t mind most of the stories.” Ginny blushed and watched Harry as he peeled a label from his butterbeer with the utmost concentration. “Then again, I do seem to get paired up with Malfoy more and more these days.”

 

“Oh, come off it little Weasley. I usually save your life. Half the time I marry you, at least once I rescued you from Harry smacking you around.” Harry winced.

 

“Married!?” Ginny shrieked.

 

“Yes, the usual premise is that you need money and I need a wife. We hate each other, but I usually have you pinned against a broom closet by the end of it.” Draco said off handedly.

 

“Malfoy!” Ron turned red.

 

“Yes, you go ahead and do that, Weasley. Turn scarlet and see if some fan doesn’t dredge up the comparison between your face and your hair and those treacherous glad rags you wore to the Yule Ball!”

 

From Ginny, there escaped a slight throat clear that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle in disguise. She rose from the table with a start, knocking over some of the multiplying empty butterbeer bottles.

 

“Right on cue, little Weasley. We have some nasty remarks, then end up alone in a corner,” Draco said, standing to block her path to the bar, dramatically placing one hand against the wall behind her.  

 

“You’re not alone,” Harry said angrily putting his bottle on the table a little louder than he had intended. The remaining bottles clinked together.

 

“Get a hold of yourself, Potter. It’s a small bar,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “Look, I did my part by clearing those great lumps out of this scene.” He waved his free hand toward Crabbe and Goyle, who again raised their butterbeer bottles and grumbled to one another on cue. “Why don’t you clear some of the dead wood? He waved toward Fred and George.”

 

“Dead wood!”

 

“Hardly, we’re hysterical”

 

“Everyone loves the scene where we get caught in the Dursley's wall!”

 

“Or the line about taking Pig to the ball. You need some comedy in between scenes where Harry witnesses someone snuff it!”

 

Ginny giggled and tried to push Draco aside, but his arm did not budge. Instead he leaned his head toward hers, casting a glance at her lips. “Don’t you want to know how it ends, Weasley?” he said quietly. He moved his other hand to the wall so he had her blocked against it. The he looked at her with his slate gray eyes / cold gray eyes / through some stray pieces of silver hair…

 

“Alright, we get it JennyfromtheBurrow!” Hermione shrieked.  Right

 

Harry cleared his throat. “Cat got your tongue, Potter? For Merlin’s sake. She’s fancied you for years, and you can’t even throw an arm around her after you tried to kill Weasley Senior.” Draco said, still holding Ginny to the wall.

 

“That wasn’t me!”

 

“Whatever. You just watched her on the couch and stupidly noted the firelight in her eyes. Don’t think that went unnoticed,” Draco drawled. He leaned his head toward Ginny and she felt the warmth of his body pressing against hers / his hot breath on her neck / his hands traveling to her waist / his eyes drawing to her lips…

 

“Jenny!” shrieked Hermione again. Sorry. Jenny meant it. An extra butterbeer was written into the scene in front of Hermione.

 

Harry rose from his seat and pulled Draco away from Ginny by the back of his robes. “We get it. You snog Ginny in a story or two, but it’s not a ship that most will sail,” he said loftily. 

 

“We’ll see. There’s still over a year before Book Six. They can’t construct ways for Ginny to end up in your room at the Dursley's forever,” Draco smirked.

 

“Are you alright?” Harry asked, placing his cloak around Ginny. And wrapping his arms around her waist. And tucking a firey lock of hair behind her ear. And gazing into her chocolate brown eyes…

 

“Good Lord, Harry! Its 120 degrees in here!” laughed Fred as Ginny blushed and hastily returned Harry’s cloak.

 

“And her hair’s in a ponytail anyway,” noted Hermione, rolling her eyes.

 

“Yeah, like Malfoy would try to snog her in front of three of her brothers!” roared George.

 

Harry released his arms from Ginny. “Well, I just…”

 

“Oh, Harry, it’s just not the time,” said Ginny with exasperation. “It’s not one of those stories where you realize you love me right after I almost get cursed, killed, raped, petrified or what have you.”

 

“But…”

 

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione sighed. “You are a great ‘hero’. But your ‘romantic hero’ does leave a bit to be desired.”

 

“How will I know then?”

 

“Oh,” said Hermione thoughtfully, “you’ll just know.”

 

“Potter, you’re an imbecile,” Draco said shortly. “Now if I had been alone in that chamber with Weasley….”

 

“Malfoy! That’s my sister you’re talking about!” Ron yelled.

 

“Plus she was eleven in book two, you pervert,” said George.

 

“Not that there aren’t sites for that,” Draco pointed out.

 

“Malfoy!” shrieked Ginny.

 

“Oh, relax woman, not about you,” Draco said, smirking at her. “Adult sites in general. It seems to be the only place Percy gets some action,” he added thoughtfully.

 

“I thought only I was allowed to add things ‘thoughtfully’!” said Hermione.

 

Harry rolled his eyes and looked at Ginny. “Can I buy you a butterbeer at least?” he asked.

 

“Sure!” Harry and Ginny walked over Madame Rosmerta at the bar.

 

“Honestly, he’s so thick!” Hermione sighed, watching them.

 

“He did step in front of her when Bellatrix tried to curse her,” Fred said. “And the part where he touched her hand in CoS inspired dozens of web sites.”

 

“I shook Vernon Dursley’s hand, d’you think we’ll get a site of our own?” asked George.

 

“But it was my ‘furtive’ glance that seemed to really fuel the fire,” Ron said proudly.

 

“You should see some of the restricted sites!” Draco laughed.

 

“Am I in any stories?” asked Fred curiously.

 

“Are you that thick, Malfoy? That’s our sister you’re talking about!” Ron yelled, ignoring Fred’s question.

 

“And possibly my brother, or distant cousin,” added Hermione.

 

“What are you on about, Hermione?” George asked.

 

“Haven’t you noticed that Harry and I BOTH have messy hair. I USED to have a bit of an overbite.” She cast Draco an icy glare as he laughed. “As does Petunia Dursley!” Hermione folded her arms, satisfied with her explanation.

 

“Messy hair and bad teeth! According to your theory, all of England shares the same DNA!” laughed Draco. Hermione sniffed indignantly and looked away. “And how do you explain Potter’s mother having red hair without relating her to the Von Trapp’s over there?” he nodded toward Ron, George and Fred. Ron and George were momentarily transfixed on a butterbeer cork that Fred had charmed to plug in and out of a bottle. For the first time, Hermione silently agreed with Lucius that perhaps their expressions did come across as vacant.

 

“I just know these things!” Hermione said. “JKR wouldn’t do that to Ginny. She already has loads of brothers, only to find out the love of her life is a distant Weasley?! No, that can’t happen.”

 

“Then what will happen, Granger?” Draco snapped.

 

“We’ll just have to wait and see. And use our imaginations in the mean time.”

 

“Oi Malfoy!” George said suddenly. “You have good hair, good teeth, and loads of money. JKR hasn’t really done you in with the exception of a few temporary hexes. Do you recon you’ll snuff it by the end?”

 

Draco shook his head lazily. “Nope. And I won’t turn ‘good’. And I absolutely will not end up shagging Granger.”

 

“I should hope not!” Ron spat, then turned beet red (like that time at the Yule Ball….) when he realized everyone including Hermione was smirking. “So, book six may not be out for another year. What do we do in the meantime?” Ron asked to change the subject.

 

“Well, I’m going to head back to Malfoy Manor and enjoy being rich and spoiled until I eventually meet my demise by becoming a Death Eater or defying Lucius.”

 

“Yes, and Ron, you and I are going to have a misunderstanding, which will stem from our unspoken and often misunderstood desires for one another.”

 

“I’m going to lament that I can’t admit my feelings for Ginny in a noble attempt to protect those I love from Lord Voldemort,” Harry added, as he and Ginny returned to the group.

 

“I’m going to completely underutilize the fact that Harry spends most holidays a bedroom away from me,” Ginny whispered to Hermione. Draco overheard, snorted a laugh and shook his head.

 

Everyone looked at Fred and George, awaiting their plans.

 

“Well, we don’t really have a huge undercurrent in the plot. I can’t see spending the whole year making Weasley Wizard Wheezes,” Fred said.

 

George looked at Malfoy. “Perhaps it’s time to see what everyone’s to keen about. Malfoy, how exactly do we get to those ‘restricted’ pages?”