Author's Note: OK, I lied. Here's another chapter. I know it's different from the others, being in regular story form rather than script, but I wrote it to update on SIYE which doesn't allow script stories, and I was just too lazy to rewrite it for This story will probably end up a fourshot, the last chapter featuring Ron reading fanfiction. Then I might write a sequel called "The Trio and Ginny Write Fanfiction" but I'm not sure yet.

In Which Harry Finally Succumbs, Reads Fanfiction, and Has Mixed Feelings

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were gathered around one of the outside tables at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Hermione and Ron were sharing a large dish of ice cream while Ginny sipped a milkshake. Surprisingly enough, Harry was on Hermione’s laptop making use of the Wizarding Wireless provided in Diagon Alley, a forgotten chocolate banana split melting at his left elbow.

“This is really good,” Ginny commented lazily, leaning back in her chair and taking another sip of the frothy white liquid. “Why didn’t we think of this before?”

“Probably because Diagon Alley has been practically deserted for so many months,” Hermione said, her spoon stopping halfway to her mouth. “But you’re right, Gin, we really should come here more often.”

“Th’ foo’s goot,” Ron said, his mouth full of ice cream.

“Ron!” Hermione chided. “Manners, please.”

“What? Harry doesn’t care,” the redhead said, stuffing another bite of ice cream into his mouth.

“That’s my ice cream!” Hermione protested, slapping his hands away. “Remember? We divided the dish down the center, so no more for you.”

Ron tried to argue, but Hermione pulled the bowl out of his reach and continued, obviously not finished with her lecture. “And yes, Harry does care about manners; he’s much more a gentleman than you are when you’re eating.”

Ginny snorted. “That’s debatable.”

Hermione ignored her. “Harry wouldn’t stuff his mouth with food and then try to talk. Would you, Harry?”

Her question was ignored. Harry was still staring unblinkingly at the screen of the laptop. Hermione tried again. “Would you, Harry?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Harry said vaguely.

Ginny smacked his arm and Harry jerked out of his reverie. “What?” he said, looking annoyed.

“Hermione just asked you if you’d stuff your mouth full of food and then try to talk, and you agreed,” Ginny explained patiently.

At least Harry had the decency to blush. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I just wasn’t paying attention, that’s all.”

“That,” stated Hermione, tossing her hair, “is an understatement.”

Harry grinned weakly, then immediately returned to the computer screen.

“Hey, Harry, your ice cream is melting,” Ginny said, waving her hands in front of his face, but to no avail.

“You can have it,” Harry said distantly.

Ginny huffed in frustration. “I don’t want your banana split!”

“But I do,” Ron said cheerfully, reaching directly across the table to snatch Harry’s dish, Both girls protested loudly.

“Ronald!”

“I can’t believe I’m related to you,” Ginny moaned, shrinking down in the chair. “I’d give an arm and a leg for an Invisibility Cloak right now.”

Ron simply shrugged, grinned, and dug into Harry’s forgotten ice cream.

Harry was still staring at the screen, seemingly mesmerized. Finally, Hermione decided she’d had enough. “Hibernatia,” she muttered, pointing her wand at the laptop.

“Hey!” Harry cried angrily as the laptop beeped loudly and the screen turned blue and then black.

“What were you doing anyway, Harry?” Ginny asked interestedly.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, his face turning a brilliant shade of red.

A Malfoy-like smirk crossed Hermione’s face. “You were reading fanfiction, weren’t you?”

An expression of understanding flooded Ginny’s face, and she leaned back in her chair, a bemused smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. Ron, on the other hand, looked appalled. “Harry, how could you?”

“It’s interesting,” Harry said defensively, shrinking down in his seat.

“But they get all the details mixed up!”

“And that’s exactly why it’s so interesting,” Harry replied.

Hermione and Ginny exchanged knowing smiles. “So, what’re you reading, Harry?”

Harry shrank even lower in his seat. “Nothing.”

“Harry…” Hermione began threateningly.

“FINE!” Harry said exasperatedly. “It’s an AU story…”

“What’s AU?” Ron interrupted loudly.

“Alternate Universe,” Ginny supplied. “Continue, Harry.”

“Well, it’s kind of complicated,” Harry began hesitantly. “It’s an AU story where instead of killing my parents and trying to take my life, Voldemort sent Pettigrew to kidnap me and raise me as his heir.”

Ginny looked considerably less surprised than Ron, whose mouth was hanging open in numb disbelief. Hermione merely nodded. “Keep your friends close and your enemies even closer,” she said dryly.

Harry nodded and continued haltingly. “It seems that he…in the story, mind you…he decided to train me—the other me, that is—oh bother…”

“You were raised and trained by Voldemort, then sent on missions to kill Order members,” Hermione filled in calmly.

“You’ve read it?” Harry said incredulously.

“Oh yes,” Hermione said dismissively. “It’s quite a popular story with a nice plot, but the writing and characterization aren’t done very well.”

“I think I’ve read it too,” Ginny remarked, wrinkling her forehead in thought. “Maybe a while ago…but I’ve read so many stories that I can’t tell one from another now.”

“Well, get on with the story,” Ron demanded, and Harry looked desperately at Hermione, who sighed.

“Harry worked for Voldemort until he was captured by Sirius Black and a group of Aurors and taken to Grimmauld Place. To make a long story short, Harry was sent to Hogwarts with magical limitations to keep him from running away. The Ministry, of course, had wanted to chuck him in Azkaban or throw him to a Dementor because of the murders they blamed for him, most prominently the deaths of the Longbottoms.”

“Yeah, I’m way past that part now,” Harry said. “I’ve already escaped Hogwarts, returned to the Death Eaters, learned the truth from Pettigrew, and destroyed the Horcruxes in revenge against Voldemort for lying to me. Now the Ministry has caught up with me and I’m going to trial for the murders.” His eyes widened dramatically. “And I’ve got to find out what happens! I can’t believe you hibernated the computer, Hermione!”

Hermione laughed. “You’ll survive. And no, I’m not going to tell you the ending.”

“But what if they send me to Azkaban?” Harry whined. “I’ve got to know whether I get convicted or acquitted.”

“It’s fanfiction,” Hermione consoled him. “Of course you’ll be acquitted. And if you aren’t, you’ll miraculously escape from Azkaban one way or another. But you don’t really need to worry about the trial, Harry. Think…what is it about the Harry in the story that makes him different than the other Death Eaters, even before he was captured and found out the truth?”

Harry frowned. “His saving-people thing?”

Hermione smiled. “Exactly. Don’t worry about the trial—Dumbledore’s smart, and you’ve got a lot of evidence supporting your innocence because of your saving people complex.”

“It’s not a complex,” Harry grumbled, but he looked a little relieved.

“Oh, come on, Harry. We all know about your complex,” Ginny joked. “Don’t try to deny it.”

“Oh, right,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve got to save three people a day or I get all twitchy.”

“Finally you admit it,” Hermione said exasperatedly. “I’ve been trying to tell you for years! At least the author got that part of your character right. How many people did you save in the story so far?”

Harry shrugged, embarrassed. “I lost count.”

Suddenly Ginny clapped her hands. “Wait…I think I remember! Wasn’t that the story where I fall off a rooftop during a Death Eater attack but Harry sweeps in on his broom and saves me?” she asked excitedly.

Hermione nodded; Harry just turned even redder.

“And I don’t know who rescued me but I have dreams about the black-haired man with piercing green eyes who saved my life?” Ginny continued.

“The eyes,” Hermione cut in exasperatedly. “Why is it always the eyes?”

“Hey,” Harry protested. “My eyes are the only thing good looking about me! Don’t insult the authors for picking my only good characteristic. Other than my eyes, I’m just a short, scrawny guy with glasses…”

“I wouldn’t say that your eyes are your only good feature,” Ginny cut in. “You’ve got a nice bum too.”

The look on Harry’s face was priceless—not because he hadn’t heard her say things like this before, but because she now had the audacity to verbalize it in front of Ron and Hermione.

But Ginny had never been one for subtlety. “In fact,” she continued as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, “I wouldn’t even use the word ‘scrawny,’ Harry. Maybe when you were twelve or thirteen, but definitely not now…” She squinted, looking him over as he gaped at her. “You’ve filled out quite nicely, actually—any girl would go for those muscles.”

Ron choked; Hermione looked on the verge of a fit of laughter.

“Can’t we talk about something else?” Harry said weakly, and Ron vehemently nodded, looking as if he was about to be sick.

Ginny shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

Harry looked desperately at Hermione, who finally caught his drift. “So, Ginny,” she said hastily. “Have you read that story where Harry and Voldemort change bodies?”

This does not help either Harry or Ron; the latter looked as if he might lose his ice cream any moment. Finally Ron choked his mouthful down. “What on earth…?” he sputtered incredulously.

“Don’t be such a baby, Ron,” Ginny said. “It’s just a story! And a darn funny one too, if I’m not mistaken.”

“So I ended up in Voldemort’s body?” Harry said dryly. “I’ve tried the whole possession thing before, after all… I mean, it’s not pleasant, but I suppose worse things could happen…”

“There isn’t anything worse than that,” Ron exclaimed incredulously, and Ginny punched his arm good-naturedly.

“Honestly, Ron, I’m beginning to think you’re as bad as Percy at recognizing jokes,” she chided. “Of course Harry wasn’t happy about ending up in Voldemort’s body—but neither was Voldemort about ending up at the Dursleys for the summer…”

Harry snorted. “What happened?”

“Well, you were at Voldemort’s Manor, learning how to conduct Death Eater meetings, fending off the advances of Bellatrix Lestrange, and trying to figure out how to get to ‘Harry’ so you could figure out how to reverse the spell,” Hermione said. “Voldemort was still pretending to be Harry while he tried to get his powers back….”

Ginny smirked. “Do you think Voldemort really shagged Bellatrix in real life?” she asked. “He is a male, after all…”

“Ginny!” Harry groaned. “I did not need that picture stuck in my head for the rest of the day!”

“Sorry! I was just curious…that’s all…”

“New topic!” Ron demanded.

“The story was quite humourous, though completely implausible,” Hermione said to Harry. “But I’ve read worse.”

“Like those time-turner stories,” Ginny put in. “Did you read that story where we all—well, us four and Draco and Lavender, though I can’t for the life of me remember how Draco ended up with us—went back in time to kill Tom Riddle before he became Voldemort and then Hermione ended up fal….”

“That’s enough information, Ginny,” Hermione said pointedly, sending messages in her eyes. Ginny stopped, probably remembering the last time they’d discussed pairings with Ron around. His reaction had been bad enough to the Hermione/Snape stories—she didn’t want to know what he’d do with the information that some thirteen-year-old had had the audacity to write a story where Hermione Granger fell in love with Tom Riddle a.k.a. Voldemort…

“Yeah, those time travel stories are all messed up,” Harry said hastily, and Hermione wondered if he’s read the ‘offensive’ story too and was simply helping them cover the near-slip. “I’ve read a couple of the stories where I end up at Hogwarts during my parents’ seventh year and get to meet the Marauders when they were our age, but somehow I always end up having feelings for my mum and then getting all angsty because she’s got to marry James so I can be born… A load of crap, if you ask me.”

Hermione sighed. “Most of the stories out there are, but not all of them. I mean, some of them are pretty good. I think a really good author could take almost any pairing and make it work in a well-written story. Except slash,” she added hastily when Ron gave her a look.

He just groaned. “Do we have to talk about all the other people our fans think we should be with right now?” Ron asked piteously.

Hermione grinned at him and leaned over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Sure, Ron.”

“So,” Ginny said, still wanting to talk about fanfiction but not wanting to violate Hermione’s promise to her brother, “have you guys read that story where Harry wakes up one morning to find that Neville was the boy-who-lived and everything was different?”

“Yeah,” Harry inserted, anxious to display his new-found knowledge of fanfiction stories. “There’s that one story where I’ve got a sister, right?” Ginny nodded, and he continued. “And we end up at Hogwarts and eventually go looking for Horcruxes after Pettigrew kills my Mum.”

“That’s a pretty good story,” Hermione said, frowning a little, “but do you really think that your mum would have come back as a ghost?”

“So all three of you have read the story?” Ron demanded, looking a little left out.

“Yes. And that’s why you should read fanfiction, Ron,” Ginny said, patting her brother on the arm.

“Never!” Ron exclaimed vehemently. “What if I accidently came across one of those stories…where me and Pansy…” he broke off, shuddering.

“Actually, you might enjoy that story,” Harry said quite seriously, and Ron looked up in horror.

“Not you too,” he exclaimed, dismay written all over his face. “You didn’t! I mean, they…Ginny and Hermione….but not you, too… I’ve…I’ve got to…you know, go….”

He shoved back his chair and made a hasty exit, headed in the general direction of the Quidditch shop.

Hermione watched Ron’s retreating back. “Do you think you overdid it, Harry?” she asked worriedly.

“Ron’ll be fine,” Ginny said. “He’ll come around when Harry tells him that he was joking…” She trailed off and turned to Harry, eyes narrowed. “You didn’t actually read that story, did you, Harry?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Harry said seriously.

Ginny looked genuinely doubtful, but Hermione snorted. “Give it up, Harry. You didn’t really read the Ron/Pansy story.”

Harry merely raised an eyebrow.

“It paired you with Millicent Bulstrode.”

Harry choked. “Fine, fine! I didn’t really read it!”

Hermione leaned back, looking as contented as a cat.

“Do you think he’ll ever come around and read fanfiction?” Ginny asked, frowning in the general direction Ron had last been seen.

“Who knows?” Harry said. “Ron’s usually stubborn like that. He won’t listen to suggestions, and he definitely won’t read the stories unless he gets it into his head that he wants to, you know?”

Hermione muttered something that sounded a little like “stubborn redheads.”

“I resent that,” Ginny began, but Harry silenced her by planting a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“I happen to like stubborn redheads,” he said slyly.

“So do I,” Hermione said loudly before the two got too carried away. “And if you’ll both excuse me, I’ll go looking for mine…”

Neither was listening by now.

“At least the fanfiction stories get one thing right,” Hermione muttered, giving them a disgusted glance. “You two are much worse than Ron and Lavender ever were.”

A/N: Some of the stories the Golden Quartet read were made up by me, and some were stories actually posted here on No offence or ridicule was meant to any of the mentioned stories; I have nothing but highest regard for the authors. In fact the "real" stories mentioned are all on my favorites list, I believe. I just wanted to explore the reactions of our favorite characters could they read the stories written about them.