Romance: Menage A Trio (Harry, Ron and Hermione). Also known as Troika.

Rating: PG

Author: Quoth the Raven


He was asleep, raven-haired head nestled on Ron's shoulder as he lay curled up in between his lovers on the soft couch They loved to cuddle him after Quidditch practice, and this had been a particularly brutal one which had worn him out completely. Their eyes met over his dozing form, and they shared a small, proud grin.

"I can't believe he caught Colin at it again," Hermione murmured, halfway between amusement and annoyance.

Ron snorted. "You'd think that kid would have learned by now how much Harry hates that camera. Especially when he's in the nude."

A yawning sound interrupted them. "I can hear you, you know. I am awake." This was a hypothesis which Hermione immediately decided that she wanted to investigate, followed by an eager Ron. Gentle kisses and tender, playful caresses were rewarded with soft moans, Harry's arms reaching out to them, eyes closed with pleasure, face open and trusting.

Harry himself simply didn't understand it, as he told them numerous times as they huddled together in Hermione's room. Being Head Girl did have its advantages, as Hermione often observed in a smugly pleased tone. Time and time again he expressed his bewilderment, wished he could understand why on earth people were still so obsessed with a scar that his mother's sacrifice earned him. Why they had to get pictures of a skinny boy with messy hair and ugly glasses. The mirror apparently didn't show him what everyone else could see - a lithe, slender, graceful body; lively green eyes dancing with hidden humour and intelligence; a shy, winning smile.

It was a communal thing, really. Everyone was obsessed with Harry.

Colin Creevey was an obvious example. Despite numerous pleas, threats and even outright bribes, the little shutterbug still insisted on snapping photos of Harry every chance he could get - and if that meant hiding in the Quidditch change rooms or the Gryffindor boys' showers, so be it. Harry was furious, but couldn't stop the pictures from being sold by Colin at a significant profit.

The fact that Draco Malfoy had bought several copies of every single photo Colin managed to take, every single time, hadn't improved his mood any. Although many of them turned up embarrassingly defaced, or placed in conspicuous places such as Snape's desk (where it was immediately confiscated and mysteriously never seen again), Colin insisted that he always sold Malfoy more photos than that. Harry wanted to know what the hell Malfoy was doing with them.

Everyone else just wanted to know where Malfoy had hidden them. They weren't under his mattress, according to Blaise Zabini...

Not to mention that Colin had been seen talking to Snape the day after the photo-on-the-desk debacle, their conversation mysteriously hushed. Harry didn't have a clue why Snape had stopped taking points from him and instead tended to give him more detentions now - but he certainly complained that Snape was waiting for him to do something wrong, watching him like a hawk all the time, watching...

And then there was Lavender Brown. Parvati Patil. Her sister, Padma. And Justin Finch-Fletchly, who now blushed and stammered whenever talking to Harry during Herbology. Not one of the Hufflepuff girls seemed able to look Harry in the eye now - normally their gazes were directed much lower, much to Harry's frustration and dismay.

It wasn't just his looks, either - Draco Malfoy was admittedly the other male sex god in their year, but his attitude tended to put off the more choosy amongst the Hogwarts denizens. Harry's innate gentleness, politeness and inner strength, on the other hand, created an aura that seemed to bring the admirers around in droves.

It didn't matter, though. None of them were interested in actually talking to Harry for any length of time. None of them really wanted to get to know him, although some truly thought that they did. None of them could have been bothered to write to him during the long summers, when he was alone and isolated in a house where he was disliked, distrusted and generally used. None of them read his wistful letters that spoke of a time next year when he could be free to do as he liked with his summers, instead of scrubbing floors. None of them wanted to hear of his nightmares, his memories of Cedric, his self-imposed burden of guilt.

None of them wanted an imperfect young man to replace their pin-up fantasy boy.

But despite their lover's already-forgotten upset, Ron and Hermione continued to grin as they strategically drove him crazy.

Yes, almost everyone was just wild about Harry.

But Harry was only wild about them.