Hermione: Yes, I dove into this project with a point in mind, but though the act of writing, it's been lost… but not forgotten!
Ron: I never even knew what it was.
Hermione: Those charts I was talking about earlier are actually very important, but let's focus on just one of them for a second.
Ron: Argh! Not the charts!
Hermione: Be quiet. Even you could appreciate this one. It's called the 'plot pyramid' and it is indispensable for a comprehensible fanfic.
Ron: I like incomprehensible.
Hermione: Please! This is really easy! You simply start at the top layer of the pyramid with the main plot, and work your way down with all the branching sub-plots, and such.
Ron: (sniffles) Goodbye, fun, spontaneous fic…
Hermione: (exasperated) Don't you think there are already enough spontaneous fics out there? Elly and The Gundam Wing Fan have written enough for the whole country. We do not need to add to them.
Ron: I should have known it was too good to be true. Having a good time with you while working on a project, that is.
Hermione: Okay, authors, get out a piece of parchment and a quill, and write one sentence describing the main plot of your fic at the top-middle… Ron, why aren't you writing?
Ron: What!? I'm just along for the ride!
Hermione: (screams) Write!!!
Ron: (startled) You can be so scary sometimes! (picks up quill)
Hermione: (calmer) Once you've got your main plot, you can move down to the second level which can contain any number of sub-plots connected to the top-plot. For simplicity's sake, let's keep the top layer to only one main plot, although you could technically have more. What do you have so far, apprentice writer?
Ron: Ahem: Top Layer: Harry and Ron ride the Colossus Cruiser.
Hermione: (silence)
Ron: That's wrong, isn't it… it's always wrong with you!! Like when we're working on homework…
Hermione: Seriously… do you seriously believe that's the main plot!?
Ron: Well… it does seem a little silly…
Hermione: Silly? Yes, I do think writing an entire story based around that premise would be silly.
Ron: What's the answer then?
Hermione: (sighs) Do I have to do everything? Fine. In this story's case, I'd say the top-plot would be: The Globe of Fortune!
Ron: The Globe of What?
Hermione: Yes, I have gotten a little off-track, haven't I? Well… it's your fault, anyway!
Ron: Me? I've only been trying to help!
Hermione: Let's just try to iron this out, shall we? Moving down to the second layer. All of these sub-plots have to be directly connected to the top-layer… so the Colossus Cruiser doesn't count obviously.
Ron: (grumbles)
Hermione: Instead, I'm going to write down the 'barber's pole portkey,' and of course the 'minion's tipping off.'
Ron: And you say my jokes don't make any sense…
Hermione: I know what I'm doing! You should have more and more sub-plots as you move down layers in the pyramid; which is why it's a pyramid, don't you see?
Ron: I'm getting dizzy.
Hermione: (writing rapidly) So on the third level, connecting to the 'barber's pole portkey,' I have the 'Colossus Cruiser,' and the 'muggle money stash.' Connected to the 'minion's tipping off,' I put 'convenient sabotage.'
Ron: Wait a minute… I thought you said the Colossus Cruiser wasn't the right answer… and what does it have to do with that globe thing?
Hermione: The beauty of the pyramid, is that you write your story from the base up! In other words, we're not to that part yet.
Ron: So what level are we on?
Hermione: Whichever level contains the 'devil camera' sub-plot, and the 'treasure map' sub-plot.
Ron: I still don't recognize any of that.
Hermione: Just watch and learn:
"What's the shopping list say, then?" Harry kicked a tin can off the sidewalk. He and Ron were sitting on a bench, going over their assignment.
Ron scrunched up his nose. "Weird stuff! Two movie-tickets, one medium popcorn, Jr. Mints? Harry, what are Jr. Mints?"
"Muggle sweets," Harry said, taking the parchment. "Looks like our assignment's going to the movies! Lucky!"
"What's that?"
"Er," Harry wasn't sure how to explain. "It's kind of like television."
"What's that?"
"Maybe it's like a performance?"
Ron shook his head. "I guess I'll just find out, huh?"
"Yeah," Harry was relieved. "So what kind of questions will we have to answer for the assignment?"
"Leave it to my dad to come up with questions like these!" Ron smirked. "For example: Describe the comfort level of the cinema seating. Is it firm? Is it cushy? How do you see over the head of the person in front of you? Can you hear the film over the sound of crunching popcorn? How?"
They both laughed.
"So, you're the expert," Ron looked around. "What do we do now?"
Harry thought. "Well, I guess we find the nearest cinema. I've never actually been before, but Dudley talks about some of the movies he sees sometimes. Maybe we could flag down a taxi and let them take us?"
"Okay!" Ron said enthusiastically, standing up from the bench and waving his arms around. "Taxi!"
Ron: You're making me sound stupid again.
Hermione: Well, how would you know how to properly call a taxi?
Ron: Still, I don't think I'd be imitating a dying bird as my first try.
Hermione: (shrugs) Guess there's nobody better to ask. Ron, what would Ron do?
Ron: Something like this:
"Ron, don't!" Harry called, too late.
"Taxi! Taxi!" Ron muttered a few strange words, and produced his wand from his sweater. The wand sprouted a small, yellow piece of cloth with the word 'taxi' printed on it. Ron waved it around like a flag.
"We're not supposed to use magic here!" Harry warned.
"Well," Ron lowered the self-fashioned flag, remembering the rules. "Where else are we going to find a taxi flag?"
It struck Harry that this would be a very difficult assignment if he didn't take control of things. "You don't actually need a flag," he said patiently. "Just watch the road for a taxi and flag it down, like this."
Ron watched as Harry called a cab, scribbling down some notes on their parchment for extra-credit. "Hold up your hand, and wait for the taxi to arrive… but watch out or you might get run over!"
"Hey!" Harry exclaimed as the taxi pulled too far over, nearly hitting him.
Hermione: How is that so much more dignified?
Ron: That's what I would do.
Hermione: Well… okay:
"Take us to the nearest cinema, please!" Ron ordered the driver, excitedly.
"Er… how much money do you think it will be?" Harry asked.
The driver sniffed distractedly. "Nearest theatre's just down the street."
"Perhaps we'll just walk then," Harry couldn't finish his sentence before the cab had kicked into gear and raced down the street again, missing flattening his toes by an inch. "Friendly…"
Ron started writing again, "And don't offend the driver-person, or they'll try to mow you down." He stuffed the quill and parchment into his sweater with the abandoned wand. "Gee Harry, that was close! London's exciting!"
Ron: You don't know me at all, do you?
Hermione: What do you mean?
Ron: I would never say 'gee!' That's so stupid!
Hermione: All right, enlighten me. What would Ron say?
Ron: Hmmmm:
"Watch where you're driving! You're a disgrace to the road! You should have your license revoked! Hit and run! Somebody note that license plate!" Ron jumped up and down, pointing at the offending cab.
Hermione: (smiling) That's not what you'd do!
Ron: How would you know?
Hermione: You always get so quiet during crisis situations! (thinks) Except when you're being strangled or stabbed, that is. You woke all of Hogwarts up that one time!
Ron: I do not get quiet! I would totally curse that taxi out, but you're reading this, so I've got to keep it under control!
Hermione: (giggles) Okay, maybe you're right:
"Stop swearing!" Harry covered his ears as Ron yelled his mind to the departing car.
"Sorry, Harry." Ron shook his head as the taxi cruised out of view. "But he could have killed you!"
Ron: That's better!
Hermione: (sarcastic) You have no idea how relieved I am. I was starting to think that nothing short of yet another explosion would make you happy!
Ron: Don't worry! I'll blow something up before this is over.
Hermione: Please don't ruin the story… I've worked so hard…
Ron: Take it easy for once, Hermione:
As is common for excited people, Ron began to worry about ridiculous things. "Harry, how will we know which movie to see? What if we can't count out the money properly? What if I have to sneeze during the show?"
Harry smiled despite himself, leading the way down the street. "Go ahead and sneeze, I'd say. And while you're at it, don't worry so much. It'll be easy!"
"Probably easier than Hermione's economics report, anyway," Ron agreed. "I feel kind of bad for leaving her back there… passed out and everything."
"She's fine," Harry located the old building they were seeking. "Hagrid's there."
"This is it, huh?" Ron admired the theatre as they made their way to the ticket booth.
"Do you have the wallet?" Harry asked.
"Oh, yeah," He pulled a shiny wallet out of his sweater. Harry was beginning to wonder how much stuff he had stashed in there. "Better let you handle the money."
Harry took the wallet. "Okay. Which film do you want to see?" He gestured at the posters lining the front of the cinema.
It was your typical summer offerings: action shows aplenty, a few dramas, and the all-necessary chick flick.
"Not very good advertisements, are they?" Ron judged. "Now if they had pictures that moved on these posters, I might have a better idea of what to see."
Harry shrugged. "They kind of save the moving pictures for paying customers. You'll just have to take your chances."
"Okay then, I pick… this one! It's called 'The Front Line.' That sounds good, right?"
"Sure," Harry proceeded to the booth. "Two for The Front Line, please." He tried to smile naturally, but felt out of place.
The ticket-taker looked bored. She looked down her long nose at Harry. "Doesn't start for an hour."
"Er… we'll buy them anyway."
"It'll be eight fifty."
At this opportunity, Ron came hurtling to Harry's side, watching closely as he removed cash from the wallet. "How can you tell them apart?"
"It's not hard," Harry forgot about paying for a moment. "You just read the bill amounts here, and the coins have their value stamped on them."
Ron marveled.
"You act like you don't know what money is, kid." The woman tapped her long nails against the cash register impatiently.
"So?" Ron shot back defensively.
"I don't know," She said snootily. "Just seems to me that an eighteen year old kid should know what money is."
"Well for your information, I'm only sixteen!"
"Here," Harry handed over eight-fifty, terribly embarrassed. "Let's go get popcorn, Ron."
"I happen to be tall for my age!" Ron yelled over his shoulder as Harry dragged him into the depths of the theatre.
Hermione: Now you would do that.
Ron: (proud)
Hermione: Well, let's leave them there, and see what's up with the toiletries report:
Hermione took both hands off the shopping cart so she could rest her fists on her hips. "You're not helping."
Draco had been uselessly following her around the drug store, looking disgusted the whole time. "I wouldn't know where to look for…" He randomly picked an item off their list. "For tweezers! I don't even want to know what tweezers are!"
"Well you're going to find out!" Hermione fumed, knocking over a display with the cart. "And you're going to help! Go get the toothpaste!"
He was about to whine about not knowing where any toothpaste was, but was interrupted by Hermione's finger, pointing out the dentistry products.
"That way."
"I'm only doing this because," He started walking. "Because… well, because! That should be a good enough reason for you!"
"Oh, whatever!" She stuck her tongue out, but felt relieved to be shopping alone for a minute. Now where to find that antibacterial soap…
There was a feminine giggling sound coming from the shampoo aisle. Hermione saw a girl about her own age shopping there, trying to hide the fact that she was laughing. "What's so funny?"
"Oh, you heard me?" The muggle girl looked at her, still holding some brand-name shampoo.
"I was just wondering what you were laughing about?"
The girl leaned in as though she were about to divulge a secret. "It's just that… well… that reminded me of me and my boyfriend. We fight all the time."
Hermione had never been so tempted to try out the Plodari spell. "He is not…" She stammered, imagining how satisfying it would be to watch all those shampoo bottles combust… and it would only take one flick of her wand. "We're not… you're wrong!"
"Oh!" The girl threw the shampoo into her shopping basket. "I'm sorry!" She evacuated the aisle, noticing Hermione's wrath.
"Magic's not allowed…" Hermione tried to talk herself out of performing some violent act of magic while she picked out some hair spray. "The Ministry'd be all over it if I blew up a drug store."
Still, the idea was very tempting… and much more entertaining than trying to decide between 'natural hold,' and 'ultimate strength' hair spray. "What difference does it make?" She growled, taking both. She wondered how bad the other assignments must be, and pictured Harry and Ron studying car grease. The thought sedated her a bit.
"There you are." Malfoy's voice woke her from her revelries. "I got your toothpaste." He tossed it into the cart angrily.
"You didn't get the floss?" Hermione said bossily.
"You didn't say anything about floss!"
"It says right here on the list: toothpaste and floss! How stupid are you?"
That must have been the 'line.' Malfoy grabbed Hermione's arms and slammed her into the shelves. The sight of the shampoo bottles breaking on the floor from the force was not nearly as satisfying as what she had just been imagining. "Not as stupid as a dead mudblood." He squeezed her arms painfully. "If I could do magic right now you'd be the consistency of this, right now." He tapped his foot on the spreading shampoo.
Hermione struggled, mentally cursing having such a weak, small frame. She closed her eyes and tried to reason that Dumbledore wouldn't let anybody get hurt on the fieldtrip, especially by other students. The reasoning seemed pathetic since her arms currently hurt like the blazes.
"What's going on?" A clerk had finally arrived to see what all the noise was about.
It took a few seconds before Hermione felt the pressure loosen up, but eventually she was released.
"Sorry," Draco addressed the clerk. "She'll clean it up." He pat the side of her head roughly, as though she were an insignificant animal.
The strange compulsion that had been making her be mean to Harry lately took control again. "Whatever you say," she said submissively.
"Well," The clerk sounded cranky. "You'll pay for this! You've ruined a lot of our products, and I expect to be reimbursed!"
"To hell with the Ministry," Malfoy gritted his teeth and drew his wand on the clerk.
"Right," To his surprise, Hermione followed suit, brandishing her wand aggressively. "What do those fools know, anyway? We should be ruling these people, not hiding from them!"
"What are you playing at?" He turned to her, prepared to block any surprise attack she might be planning.
But she didn't attack… didn't attack him anyway. She proceeded to cast a memory charm on the clerk, looking as though she were enjoying herself.
"Now," She said casually, ignoring the clerk's disorientated expression. "I believe we still need to find a disposable camera and a pair of tweezers."
Ron: The plot thickens!
Hermione: I hope you've noticed that the Ministry hasn't done their duty in either of the magical abuses.
Ron: Either one? There were two?
Hermione: You turned your wand into a flag, remember?
Ron: That's right. So what's up, then?
Hermione: Oh, I established that ages ago. The characters aren't going to put it together yet, though. They'll just believe they were really lucky… or in cases like yours, they won't notice at all.
Ron: (disappointed) Well, I guess you really are evil now. For a while there, I thought you forgot about that.
Hermione: Of course not… aw, don't look like that…
Ron: It just always works out that way. We're enemies, we're friends, we're enemies, we're friends, and now we're enemies again.
Hermione: Well, you always seem to say exactly the wrong thing.
Ron: And you're always on Harry's side!
Hermione: He's more sensible…
Ron: He's just easier for you to boss around!
Hermione: Well, at least he's not so insensitive that he's hurting my feelings all the time!
Ron: What are you on about?
Hermione: Implying that I had nothing better to do than go with one of you to the Yule Ball, as if I were the one that couldn't get a date! I don't want to be your last resort!!
Ron: Speaking of which, how are you and Viktor getting on? Have you taught him to spell yet?
Hermione: Fine way to speak about your own idol! And we've had more intelligent conversations that you and I ever had, so I wouldn't talk!
Ron: Fine!! You can write the fic with him, then!
Hermione: I never wanted your help in the first place!
Ron: Fine!! Give Miss Unoriginality my regards! (leaves)
Hermione: Fine… so… anyway… um…