Chapter 27: Guinevere and that Damn Flirt, Lancelot

"Oi, ferret-face!"

Melissa and Malfoy turned around to see a red-faced Ron and Harry stalking towards them.

"Oh, dear," Melissa murmured. She and Hermione had failed to think about this when they were preparing. Malfoy's grip on her arm tightened protectively as Harry and Ron neared.

"What the bloody hell d'you think you're playing at, Malfoy?" Ron hissed once they were close enough. Melissa saw Professor Lupin half-rise in his chair before Professor McGonagall pushed him back down.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand the question," Malfoy responded coolly. "What do you mean, what am I playing at?"

"Well, you've obviously got her under some sort of spell!" Harry exploded.

"It would seem your association with Weasley here has caused for some of his heated temper to rub off on you, Potter," Malfoy shot at him. Melissa cringed inwardly and quickly stepped in front of Malfoy as Harry went to dive at him.

"Melissa, get out of the way," Harry told her, his emerald green eyes smoldering with barely contained anger. Melissa shook her head.

"No."

"Melissa, move."

"No."

"Get out of the way!"

"No!" she exclaimed stubbornly. "I won't let you hurt him."

"Since when?" Ron asked.

"Since I said so."

"Why are you defending him?" Harry asked. "Look at him! He's a low-life, snotty, Death-Eater's-son, ferret-face!"

"I'll thank you kindly not to call him that," Melissa replied coldly, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Now, if you two don't stop acting like a couple of twits, I'll be forced to resort to measures I'm sure I'll think about regretting."

Ron's eyes widened.

"You . . . wouldn't hex us?!" he cried, scandalized.

"If that's what it came down to, to ensure you won't hurt him," Melissa told him. Just then, Hermione popped in between Ron and Harry.

"Now, I'm sure there's some place for us to talk this out . . . civilly and without Muggle brawling?" she suggested, glancing up at the Head Table. Lupin, McGonagall, and Dumbledore were conducting a whispered conversation. Snape sat glaring at the five students standing at the Slytherin table. A moan was heard next to Melissa and Malfoy. All five looked over to see Pansy sit up on the stone floor and look around.

"Wha—How—How did I get . . ."

She trailed off and looked up at Melissa standing with her fingers laced with Malfoy's. With a loud, trailing sigh, she slumped to the floor again. Melissa stared at her for a moment before turning back to the situation at hand. A motion caught her eye. Professor Lupin was hurrying over to the fight waiting to happen.

"Follow me, all of you," he ordered briskly before striding off. The five students followed after him hesitantly. They walked out of the staring eyes into the Entrance Hall. Lupin led them through several winding passages and a few hidden corridors before they stepped out from behind a tapestry to a short hallway on the fifth floor. There didn't seem to be any other way to enter the corridor other than that tapestry. Lupin gestured to a portrait a few feet away and walked to it. The painting was of a young woman, seeming to be in her early twenties. Her dress told a different age, however. She was wearing a very medieval dress, blue with white lace frills. Her hair was done up elegantly, curls piled atop her head. At the moment, she was snoozing gently, leaning against her frame. Lupin waited a few moments, then cleared his throat. Another minute. Lupin started tapping his foot. The woman stirred in her sleep and shifted slightly. Lupin sighed impatiently and tapped the frame of the painting. Nothing. Lupin looked decidedly aggravated and cleared his throat again loudly. The portrait snored on.

"Guinevere!" Lupin finally said, his voice reverberating off the walls of the tiny corridor. The woman in the portrait jumped and looked at the six people in front of her in surprise.

"Oh, my dear! Terrible fright you gave me, my dear Remus," she said, slumping against the side of her frame. After composing herself, she sat up straight and looked at Lupin.

"Now, what can I do for you, my dear?" she asked, smoothing her dress.

"I'd like to set a password for your room," Lupin told her.

"Of course," she responded graciously. He nodded. Just then, she seemed to realize there were students watching this whole exchange. "Oh, hello, children!" she called, waving excitedly. "I'm Guinevere."

"Like . . . Queen Guinevere? And Sir Lancelot?" Hermione asked tentatively. Guinevere rolled her eyes and tsked.

"That Lancelot was an absolute flirt with anything in a dress!" she exploded. She then proceeded to rant about Lancelot in a very medieval sounding French. She took a moment to calm herself down before smiling at the students. "Now, what are your names?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Harry Potter."

"Ron Weasley."

"Melissa Potter."

"Draco Malfoy."

"Ah, well, lovely to meet you all and—"

"Got it!" cried Lupin, who, up until now, had been silently contemplating something. He grinned at the students — a bit of a knowing grin, in Melissa's opinion — before turning to Guinevere.

"The new password is unitas est vita," Lupin told Guinevere. Guinevere nodded and looked expectantly at the students.

Latin, Melissa thought. Wonder what it means?

"Unitas est vita . . .?" Melissa reported in a questioning tone. Guinevere beamed and the portrait swung easily open. Lupin ushered them inside. Melissa's mouth dropped when they stepped inside. The room was filled with plush armchairs in deep hues of red and green.

"Slytherin colours," Hermione murmured, saying what everyone was thinking, "and Gryffindor."

Lupin turned around to face them and looked them sternly in the eye.

"Now, you five will sit in this room until you work things out and you two—" he said, pointing at Ron and Harry "—don't hurt Draco. That's an order. Now talk." With that, the Defense professor turned and walked from the room, closing the portrait behind him. The five students looked warily at each other for a few moments before each went to sit down. Melissa and Malfoy sat together on a dark red couch while Ron and Harry sat in red armchairs opposite them. Hermione sat in a green chair between the four.

There was a stony silence for near to five minutes, Melissa and Malfoy glaring at Ron and Harry, who were glaring just as stubbornly back. No one noticed Hermione stand up and walk into an adjoining room. When she returned, she had a bottle of butterbeer in her hand. She sat down in the green chair she had recently vacated and twisted the bottle open. The cap came free with a slight 'pop.' Harry, Ron, Melissa, and Malfoy looked at her in surprise as she raised the bottle to her lips. Hermione looked over the rim at all of them and lowered it.

"This is going to be a long night, I can feel it," she replied before taking a sip. Harry shook his head and looked at his sister.

"Mel, why are you doing this?" he asked plaintively.

"Doing what?" she replied.

"This!" Harry cried, gesturing wildly at Malfoy. "How can you do this? Wait, he's got you under a spell, doesn't he?"

"Potter, shut up," Malfoy snapped. "I have put no spell on Melissa, merely talked to her."

"And bloody kissed her!"

"Yes, well, that came a bit later," the Slytherin conceded.

"But why, Melissa?" Ron whined pityingly. "Why this little toerag?"

"I don't know," Melissa whispered, gazing at the rug. "It just . . . happened."

Harry and Ron proceeded to glare daggers at the blonde intruder.

"Oh, won't you two grow up!" Hermione snapped after a few moments of cold silence. "Harry, can't you just accept your sister is happy?"

"What about Fred?" Ron interrupted loudly. "What about my brother?"

"Oh, we broke up long ago," Melissa told him, waving her hand. "You really should read up on current events, Ron."

"You broke up with my brother?!"

"It was mutual," Melissa explained. "He'd met a girl his own age at his and George's joke shop."

"Still!"

"Ron, stop being so stupid," Hermione snapped at him this time. He glared back at her. She stared right back, one eyebrow arched. He finally looked away, glancing everywhere but her. Harry stood up abruptly.

"Harry?"

"I—I need some time to think this over," he said, running a hand through his raven hair, causing it to stick up even more. Melissa felt—and probably looked—crushed. She had hoped Harry would at least try to accept the budding romance. Harry turned and strode out of the room. Ron waited a moment before glaring at Malfoy and racing after his best friend. Hermione stared wide-eyed after the two of them, before glancing guiltily at Melissa and Malfoy.

"Go ahead," Melissa told her tiredly. Hermione stood up and swayed, either from the affects of the butterbeer or from uncertainty. She took a step and looked again at Melissa.

"Well. Um, I'm going to go find them," she said unnecessarily. "In the meantime . . . uhhh, have fun and . . . uh . . . well, just don't do anything I wouldn't do!" She then turned and fled the room, her cheeks burning.

"She could be very amusing to be around," Malfoy commented a few moments after the portrait swung shut. Melissa swatted his shoulder before he placed a kiss on her forehead. He wrapped his arms around her and they both fell into a much-deserved sleep.