The Makings of a Modern Love Triangle

In the grander scheme of things, it meant absolutely nothing.

After all, there was still Voldemort lurking about, the fact that Harry Potter was, for all intents and purposes, a sitting duck, the increasingly powerful threats of the Death Eaters, and the upcoming Quidditch match to consider, among other things.

It was absolutely ridiculous to fixate on such an inconsequential, silly little thing.

Hermione certainly didn't. She was the one that got the owl. When the little tawny bird dropped the delivery between the porridge and the bread rolls, she barely glanced at it, too absorbed in her Defense of the Dark Arts, Fifth Year notebook to care about what The Daily Prophet had to say.

Truthfully, Harry wouldn't have cared either. In what seemed like barely months, The Daily Prophet had gone from becoming a respectable paper to a rather absurd last attempt by Crouch to reassure the entire witch and wizard population that Voldemort, the evil Dark Lord, had in fact NOT risen, and there was nothing to worry about, and weren't things just lovely? There was absolutely nothing of merit in the bureaucratic paper at all nowadays, and Harry himself would have ignored it, had it not been for the front page special about the upcoming Quidditch World Cup.

Ronald Weasley reached for it first.

"You sure you don't want to see it?" he couldn't resist tossing out to the girl across the table, a sneer in his voice, tone twisted into a drawl as he unrolled the paper. "I hear they've got a full page spread on your precious Vicky."

Harry fought a small smile, thankful his mouth was currently occupied chewing toast as Hermione flickered a cold look at her other best friend. "Now why would I do that," she retorted sweetly, "When I have all those lovely pictures in color that Viktor sent me just last week?"

That was enough to make the sneer falter, sparkle dimming slightly in Ron's eyes as he held the paper slack. Hermione crossed glances with Harry, and at the amused glance he gave her, twisted her lips into a private smile, before once again glancing down at her notebook.

Harry's own grin widened, shaking his head and turning back to the paper, which Ron had momentarily forgotten in his quest to glare the bugger out of Hermione.

The silent tension - what with Ron glaring and Hermione pretending to ignore it - was getting a little tiring, in Harry's opinion, and after a short second, his impatience to see the spread won over his desire to see Ron's face flush even more crimson.

"Well? What does it say?" he prompted, reaching over the cereal to grab at the paper with slightly greasy hands.

Ron seemed to shake out of whatever hold Hermione's indifference had on him, and once again he snatched at the paper, shrugging off Harry's hands with a glare.

"You're smudging it!" he complained, reading over the headline. "Bloody hell, nothing on the Cannon's as usual, you'd think they would-"

"What's that?" Neville Longbottom piped up from the other side of Ron. The accident prone fifth year seemed to be staring at something on the other side of the page.

Ginny Weasley, red hair falling off her shoulders, obstructing her vision when she leaned over the table, pushed at the strands to clear her face, also reading as well as she could from her awkward position.

"What, did you find something on the Can..." Ron trailed off, eyes also suddenly focused. Harry frowned, curiosity now beginning to bother him as Ron pulled the paper closer, making it impossible to see what the three were gawking at. "Well, bloody hell!"

This time, even Hermione looked up. "What is it?" she asked, eyes darkening in concern, shifting from Ron and the paper and then to Harry. "I wasn't sure it was possible for Ron to grow the color of an apple without at least a little magic."

The tone was only half teasing. The annotation behind it, however, was serious. Harry shrugged at her bewildered glance.

It was Ginny who answered, piping up in a flat tone, "You're in the paper again," before plopping back into her seat and helping herself to another corn muffin.

"Bloody hell!" Ron repeated.

"Harry's in the paper again?" Hermione asked, rising out of her seat, clearly confused. "But Harry hasn't done anything lately other than exist-"

Suddenly Neville began to chortle, shaking his head. "Not just Harry."

"Bloody hell!" Ron said again.

Between Neville's laughter and Ron's exclamation, their corner of the Gryffindor table was getting quite a bit of attention.

Harry once again tried to grab at the paper. "Ron, what does it-"

"Here, let me have it!" Hermione astonishingly, was quicker, snatching at the newspaper and nearly tearing it apart in the process, ignoring Parvati and Lavender as they crowded behind her.

"What the... Oh, HONESTLY!" Harry blinked, suddenly unsure what to think when Lavender's palm slapped to her mouth, and Parvati suddenly relapsed into a state of hysterical giggles. Eyes on his friend, he discovered the color draining from Hermione's face, before the girl's eyes lolled up into the back of her head. "Of all the rubbish- that WOMAN!"

With that, Granger let The Daily Prophet flap to the table in angered disgust, and grabbed at her books. "Hog wash!"

"What's hogwash?!" Harry burst, scrambling to grab the paper before someone else beat him to it. Unfortunately, someone did.

This time, Angelina Johnson was pushing Parvati and Lavender aside, Fred and George Weasley behind her.

"Ron!" Harry turned, cheeks suddenly warmer when his teammates gave them both incredulous looks and began their own round of cheeky laughter. "What's it say?"

"I... well... that's..." Ron was lost for words, and absolutely no help.

"That's my lil' brother!" George said happily, reaching over with one lanky arm and scruffing at Ron's hair. "Loverboy!"

"Hermione! Did you read what she called you?" Parvati called as the curly haired girl walked straight toward the doors. Hermione ignored her completely.

"What did she call- What's going on!" Harry asked, reaching for the paper again. Angelina seemed to finally take pity on him. With a shrug and a grin, she turned the paper over and allowed him to glance at the headline.

Fred happily read it for him. "'Scarlet Woman Breaks Potter's Heart Yet Again.' Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

Harry's eyes widened. There, under the headline, was last year's photo of Harry, Hermione and Ron.

"What the-" Harry finally managed to grab the paper, feeling the uncomfortable feel of bodies surrounding him as they pressed in to read the article. "'Harry Potter never seems to learn from his mistakes, Rita Skeeter reports. Despite the heartache and turmoil Harry Potter subjected himself to in his fourth year at Hogwarts, falling for the rather dubious charms of a rather plain Muggle born student, the Boy Who Lived has yet again given his heart, and to the same woman no less.

'Last year, Hogwarts Champion Harry Potter named best friend Ronald Weasley (son of Ministry of Magic's Arthur Weasley) as the most important figure in his life. In a past littered with tragedy, it appears that the increasingly unstable Mr. Potter has truly decided to share all with his young friend, including his girlfriend. Hermione Granger, a Muggle Born student in her fifth year, was not quite satisfied with regular steadies Bulgarian Seeker Viktor Krum and Mr. Potter. Sources confirm that Ms. Granger has also attracted the attention of Mr. Weasley. 'They're always together,' Draco Malfoy, fellow student, reports. 'It's weird, those two fighting over her.'

'She's still not even that pretty,' Pansy Parkinson, also a student at Hogwarts, insists. 'She's all skin and bones, still. And her hair? It's more bushy than curly. Last year Harry and Ron didn't speak nearly the whole year because of it. I still think it's love potions.'

Professor Dumbledore has yet to investigate these claims on the young witch, and the fate of Mr. Potter and his hapless rivals is still under question. Will their friendship survive? This reporter believes it might, as soon as their good sense returns.'"

"Good sense?!" Ron had finally managed, it seemed, to get a hold of his ability to speak. "Why that bloody git!"

Harry was still, eyes once again moving from the picture to the headline. "Scarlet Woman?" he repeated. "She called Hermione a scarlet woman?"

That, unfortunately, was enough to set Fred and George off again, the roaring Seventh Years attracting even more attention to the table.

"'As soon at their good sense returns'!" Draco Malfoy crowed from his place with the Slytherins. "She'll be waiting a good long while!"

Harry crossed glances with Ron, who was still roughly the same shade as his hair. "I thought Hermione had made her promise not to tell these-"

"Yes, well, we all know how TRUSTWORTHY that woman is," Ron snapped, exasperation on his face as he pushed off from the table. "Rubbish. Stop laughing!" he growled, pointing a finger in George's face.

George slapped at it playfully. "You old dog! Never knew you had it in you!"

Ginny, still the only one at the Gryffindor table not exploding into fits of giggles, laughter or chortles, looked up from her porridge and offered him a shrug. "It was bound to happen, Ron."

Harry joined Ron in giving her a bewildered glare. "What does that mean?"

The youngest Weasley stared into her porridge as she remarked lazily, "Two boys, one girl. Hermione's gotten quite pretty, all the fourth years have noticed. And the both of you are always with her. It's a modern love triangle ready to happen."

"A what?!" Ron sputtered.

"We've always been with her," Harry argued. "There's always been three of us. Nobody bloody brought it up before!"

Ginny gave Harry a long stare, before she sighed noncommittally and wiped primly at her mouth. "Of course we did. Just not in front of you." Standing, she gathered her books, glanced at her watch, and moved from the table. "I better find Hermione. See you later." Pushing past her older brothers, Ginny left the Common Room.

Ron and Harry gave each other another dumbfounded look, ignoring the jeers, the slaps on their shoulders, and the hoots and hollers.

"A modern love triangle?" Harry repeated.

--

"A modern love triangle!" Ronald Weasley adjusted the strap on his shoulder, eyes narrowed in a long glare as he trudged alongside Harry on the way to Herbology. "Have you ever heard of anything so ridiculous!"

"Not really, no," Harry answered. Well, he actually had, last year, when the same nosy reporter had gone and reported that he and Hermione were an item in the first place, causing her all sorts of trouble, and making the situation rather embarrassing for him. Still, that was last year, and last year, it was different, what with the tournament and Voldemort's uprising and all. There had been more important things to worry about back then than a silly fictional love triangle. There were STILL more important things to worry about than a silly fictional love triangle.

Harry felt himself flush crimson when a group of fourth year girls caught his attention, laughing and pointing at he and Ron as they passed, erupting into a fit of giggles.

He craned his head, staring back at them before snapping his focus back on Ron, who continued to stride forward with a look of fury on his face.

"Must everything be so bloody typical?" Ron continued. "Just because there's three of us, there has to be some sort of romantic connection?"

Harry cocked an eyebrow. He considered mentioning Ron's disturbing habit of stealing pictures of Viktor Krum from Hermione and placing hexes on them so that the Bulgarian Quidditch Seeker appeared to be wearing a dress, but decided against it. Ron's redheaded hair had a temper to match.

"Bugger that!" Ron ranted. "It's Hermione! It's not like she's just a girl! She's... well... she's Hermione!"

Harry once again found himself distracted by the flash of a familiar paper in the hands of one Pansy Parkinson. The Slytherin girl and her friends grinned widely at the sight of them. The heat radiated from Harry's face, forcing him to look away.

"Hermione isn't LIKE a GIRL," Ron was apparently quite satisfied with speaking to himself. "She's... she's... Hermione!"

"Yes, you've said that twice already, thank you Ron," Hermione piped up from behind.

Ron flushed, and once again, Harry was very aware of the other students. How must it appear, he wondered, to be standing this way - automatically flashing Hermione a smile and moving aside so she could take her place between them? One boy on each side, Hermione slightly ahead...

"Where were you?" he asked. The brown-haired girl interrupted her glare toward Ron to shrug slightly, books hugged protectively to her chest as she picked up their pace.

"In the library," she answered promptly. "And don't tell me you both are still obsessing over that silly article."

"Silly?" Ron gave her a scrunched glance, shaking his head disbelievingly as they turned a corner. "Shouldn't you be a little more worried? The last time you were painted out to be a-"

"If you say 'Scarlet Woman', Ronald Weasley," Hermione snapped primly, "You shall have large, flapping ears of a donkey to match your hair."

A group of sixth years walked by, and among them was Cho. Harry found himself swallowing hard when the pretty girl caught his eyes, swerved her gaze to Hermione, and looked away without hardly a wave. Harry blinked at the cold attitude, continuing his pace alongside his friends.

"It's rubbish," he said quickly, stepping a littler farther away from Hermione than necessary.

"Of course it's rubbish," Hermione agreed a second later. "There are far more important things to worry about."

"Well, I think it's pretty bloody important, and so should you," Ron muttered. "After all, you were the one that ended up with those sores all over your fingers."

Harry almost stopped completely. "That's right," he breathed, the memory of last years hate mail flooding through his mind. He cast Hermione a worried look. "Hermione- what if they send more curses-"

"Well, I shant be so stupid as to open them, will I?" she remarked, more than a little ticked at the insinuation. "Can you two think of nothing else? We do have a quiz today, or have you both forgotten?"

Oh... bugger. Harry HAD forgotten. The excitement of the morning breakfast had driven it completely out of his mind.

"Blasted..." He frowned, searching his mind. "What was it on again?"

He received an exasperated look in return. "Mushrooms, Harry."

"Oh, right." Sneaking a peak over Hermione's head to Ron, he found his friend with his own blank expression. "What about mushrooms?"

Apparently, that question didn't even deserve the honor of an answer. Once again, Harry received a patented Hermione glare, before, having had enough, she quickened her step, leaving them behind as they stepped into the greenhouse.

Harry Potter had had his share of recognition, more than his share, actually. He discovered, even at almost sixteen, he did not crave the fame that Ron so envied. It brought more trouble than it did anything else, and today, obviously, was no exception.

Immediately, upon their arrival, the entire fifth year class looked up and focused on them walking in.

"Bet this never happens to Neville," he grunted under his breath, following Hermione and Ron inside.

Malfoy, blonde hair gelled back and sharp features lighting up at the sight of them, didn't waste a moment.

"Oh, look - it's the Scarlet Woman!" The Slytherin group snickered from their places, murmuring amongst themselves as Draco cast a lazy glance over Hermione. "Tainted reputation at such a young age."

Hermione, as usual, walked right past Draco and his followers, giving him no attention at all.

The indifference she displayed seemed almost directly proportional to the rage that immediately flooded Harry, hands tightening over his books when Draco narrowed his eyes at her brush off.

"What's the matter, Granger? Think you're too good to engage in conversation, now?" Hermione paused, back held straight, hair tossed over her shoulder as she sent a scathing glare his way. Draco smiled at the reaction. "One shouldn't have to remind a Mudblood where her place is-"

A fern gave a loud shriek when it was pushed to the side, then nearly trampled on, as Harry surged forward. Ron, however, got there first.

"Say another word, Malfoy, you'll be spitting up slugs for a week," Ron growled, wand out and pointed directly at Malfoy's heart. Weasley's eyes glittered with anger, cheeks flushed scarlet. Draco turned, and found Harry directly behind him, eyes darkened in fury, mouth set in a determined scowl.

"We've had just about enough from you," Harry said slowly. Crabbe and Goyle, both about a foot taller, stood directly behind him, but Harry didn't care at all. He had faced Voldemort in a duel, he had killed a basilisk - this little blonde aristocrat was nothing.

Malfoy's self confident expression froze for just a second, enough to betray the sudden intimidation at the situation, before the arrogance took hold. His features stretched into a contemptible smile.

"Look, Granger!" Draco's gaze shifted from the murderous glares of Ron to Harry, voice echoing over the sudden silence in the classroom. "Your lovers are defending your honor!" He grinned. "Don't worry boys, I don't have your bad taste. She's all yours."

"Oh, honestly!"

Small hands blocked his push forward, pressing him back before he had a chance to get to Malfoy. Harry blinked. Hermione now stood between them both, shielding Draco, one hand pressed to his chest, the other to Ron's. An impatient sigh fell from her lips as her eyes rolled in exasperation. "Harry, put that wand back right now! And you, Ronald- YOU'LL be spitting slugs, you git. You don't know the first thing about that curse- DON'T!" she yelped when Ron tried to push past her.

"Hermione!"

"Now, listen, Hermione, this is between the men-"

"MEN?! Don't you mean boys?" She cocked a cold eyebrow, not at all greedy with the glower she gave them both. "Would you PLEASE get back? Have you forgotten about the quiz? Professor Sprout will be here any moment!"

Draco grinned, and Harry's jaw dropped when the Slytherin leaned forward, pressing palms to Hermione's hips.

"Granger, have to admit- these boys are just a little below your league..."

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER!" Harry wasn't sure who said that, he or Ron, but they had the same affect, Draco's palms dropped immediately.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Once again, hands pushed as Harry started forward, and Hermione struggled visibly to hold back both her friends before giving up and turning to Malfoy. "Touch me again," she said sweetly, her own wand of yew and unicorn hair wavering threateningly in Draco's face, "And I'll make sure you have hooves instead of hands, all right?"

"What is going on in here!"

Professor Sprout, hands on her hip, expression painted in a patented glare, waddled into the room, eyes fixated on their little scene.

Hermione gave a small groan, shooting Harry a glare, as if all of this was HIS fault. "You see?" she whispered angrily.

"Ah. Granger, Potter, Weasley. I should have known. Trying to curse Malfoy, were you?"

"He started it!"

"I didn't-"

"Yes, they WERE," Malfoy said immediately, nodding.

"But he called-"

"ENOUGH!" The Professor, despite her rather... stout figure, seemed to tower over them in her glare. "Of course- it would be the three of you. Into your seats! At this moment!"

"But, Professor-"

"Not a word, Mr. Weasley! Sit! Or it's ten points from Gryffindor!"

Hermione gave another groan, offering the professor a smile of apology before shoving at Harry, eyebrow rising when he gave a small "Oww" at the force. When he glared, she shifted the eyebrow higher, as if daring him to comment. With a disgruntled sigh, Harry finally turned obediently around toward the back of the room.

Malfoy sniggered loudly, and Harry almost stopped again, when he felt a small hand propel him forward.

"Idiot," he muttered, settling into the corner, arms crossed. Ron also seemed to be struggling to get back at Malfoy, but Hermione held his hand in a lock tight grip, pulling him down as she sat down next to Harry.

Professor Sprout gave them another warning glance, and began her lesson.

"That's just what we need," Hermione grumbled, removing her quill from her satchel and unrolling a parchment. "The entire Gryffindor house to be mad at us AGAIN for losing points."

"We always get them back, don't we?" Harry retorted. "Saving their lives and all."

"Malfoy is a git," Ron growled. "He had it coming, Hermione."

"He's a BORE," she enunciated, eyes on the teacher. "It's been five years, you'd think the little blond mouse would find something new to do other than obsess about the three of us. The two of you should just ignore him. And hush up, she's starting."

"But-"

"HUSH," she said. Harry frowned. Hermione was damned bossy, but he had no chance to retaliate, because Sprout was glaring at them again, forcing him to keep silent.

Finding the focus to concentrate on mushrooms when his blood was boiling hot took a discipline Harry Potter wasn't quite sure he had. He sat, hands careful as he handled the poisonous caps, and yet it was as if he stared right through them.

The piece of parchment sticking out of Ron's bag caught his attention, and once again, Harry pondered at it. It was ridiculous, honestly. A love triangle- the three of them?

They had been best friends for five years, since they were children, they had grown together, fought the dark wizards and solved puzzles. There had been countless nights staying up late in the library, tiptoeing around in the invisible cloak avoiding Mrs. Norris and Filch-

They were above such petty things as romantic triangles. Wasn't it obvious?

Hermione, arm brushing against his as she tilted her head, chewing on the edge of her quill, lost in her quiz, provided a quick character study. She hadn't changed. Sure, her hair now tumbled with curls, falling over her shoulders in shiny ringlets, and her teeth, now nice and straight and white, gave her a rather beautiful smile. And yes, he had... noticed that she seemed to have... grown a bit in the... bosom area, but that was quite natural. She was a teenage girl, after all.

She was still... Hermione.

It had been slightly gratifying before, to think Viktor Krum had actually considered HIM, four years younger, a viable rival for Hermione's affections, but he had told him, it was ludicrous. And Ron, sure Ron was slightly possessive of Hermione, he was too, but that didn't mean there was a...

Harry paused, suddenly swiveling his head to the Slytherins. Draco Malfoy's head was up, and his eyes were fixed on something between him and Ron.

Malfoy was staring at Hermione.

That bloody bastard. With a near growl, Harry shoved himself closer to his friend, grabbed his wand, and whispered softly.

The mushroom in Draco's hand exploded.

The class erupted in laughter, and silently, Harry put his wand away, a smile on his face as he turned innocently back to his own mushroom, pointedly ignoring the accusing glares directed his way by both Hermione and Madame Sprout.

--

"What do you think she meant?" Ron asked suddenly, hands shoved into his robe.

Hermione wasn't there to answer - apparently, she was still in a snit about the whole Herbology incident. She had eaten lunch in about ten minutes flat, gathered her books and left in favor of the library.

That had been just fine with Harry. It was embarrassing enough to have to endure the constant cat calls and hoots when it was just he and Ron, he certainly didn't want to face it when the three were together.

"Who?" Harry asked, walking toward Hagrid's hut with a slight bit of dread. Care of Magical Creatures was, quite regularly, under Hagrid's care, something more like, 'Care of Disgusting and Dangerous Creatures'. He was afraid to think what they'd be subjected to treat today.

"Ginny. What on earth do you think she mean, they've all talked about it."

"I think she meant, they've all talked about it," Harry responded.

"It's hardly obvious," Ron said suddenly.

Harry paused, staring at his friend in ill disguised scrutiny. "What's hardly obvious?"

Sensing the study, Ron's ears turned slightly pink. "Nothing," he said quickly. "Nothing, just...What I meant was... with Hermione and me... and you-"

"Hermione's right," Harry said after a moment, suddenly uncomfortable. "It's all rubbish. This entire thing is just rubbish and we should just forget it."

"I WOULD," Ron muttered, glaring at another group of girls that giggled their way by. "If everyone else would. But, Harry! They've talked about it!"

"I'm no stranger to gossip, Ron, and neither are you," he answered methodically. "Remember the time everyone thought I was the heir of Slytherin?"

"That was different."

"How?"

"I wasn't the one being gossiped about."

Harry suddenly grinned, laughing at the glum look on Ron's face. "Well, you always did want to be famous."

"No, I wanted to be RICH," Ron corrected. "There's a difference."

Harry chuckled, reaching Hagrid's hut with the others.

"Gather round, gather round!" Hagrid was smiling, waving to him before turning to the other students. "We've got something special here for you today!"

"I shudder to ask," Draco said drolly, edging away from the hut.

Hagrid ignored him, grinning gleefully from behind his bushy beard. "Dumbledore let me borrow Fawkes."

Harry found a genuine grin spreading on his features at the collective gasps on his classmates faces. Fawkes was a Phoenix, and a beautiful one at that. The red-feathered bird flew a circular path above them, before gently landing on Hagrid's arm.

"Hello, Fawkes," he said cheerfully, reaching forward to ruffle the bird's feathers. The bird blinked at him in recognition, head rubbing against his palm affectionately.

The class crowded around the bird, but Ron had his attention elsewhere. "Where's Hermione?"

"Don't know," Hagrid said, shrugging. "Not like her to be late, is it?"

Harry frowned, stepping back to allow the class their own turn to fawn over Fawkes as he searched the grounds for their friend.

"Maybe she got caught up in the library," he said to Ron. "You know, once she gets into her books..."

"Yeah." Ron scrunched his face in obvious distaste for that particular hobby. "Just proves this old triangle thing is all hogwash, doesn't it?"

Once again, Ron's logic completely failed Harry. "Why?"

Ron grinned cheekily. "Neither of us would fall for a girl who spends that much time reading books, would we?"

Harry cocked an eyebrow, suddenly annoyed. "Worked for Krum, didn't it?"

He got a scowl in return.

Hermione didn't show up until Hagrid's lesson on the healing powers of a Phoenix was nearly over, and when she did, it was at a running pace. Cheeks flushed, she looked quite the sight, out of breath, shiny with perspiration, she nearly glowed.

"Sorry, sorry, Hagrid," she said, nearly plowing into Parvati as she continued her pants of apologies. "I just... it's because I was caught up and... well, you see-"

"We'll talk about it later, Hermione," Hagrid interrupted, "Now pay attention."

It should have been intimidating, coming from a big giant of a man like Hagrid, but the snap came out almost as a lofty laugh, and Hermione grinned right back up, shrugging and stepping back.

She looked so ready to burst. Harry moved forward, a curious smile floating on his lips as he cast a quizzical glance at Ron. His other friend also stared, stepping away from the others as she came forward.

"What?" Harry asked, hand reaching out to take hers as she clamped both he and Ron's fingers tightly, squeezing.

"McGonagall called me into the office as I was coming," she said breathlessly, grin spreading on her features, cheek to cheek as she glanced at them both. "And guess what?"

In her happiness, she never looked more beautiful. Harry grinned right back. "What?"

"I've been made a prefect!"

"A prefect?!" Ron looked positively disgusted. "What for?!"

"Oh, shut up, Ron," Hermione said, scowling at him. "It's a GOOD thing."

"Oh..."

Harry laughed, shaking his head as Hermione jumped into his arms, laughing when he shot her a congratulatory grin. "That's wonderful, Hermione. You'll be head girl in no time."

Ron stood, again slightly at a loss why anyone would WANT to be a Head Girl, but still tapped Hermione on the shoulder, forcing her attention on him. "In that case, that's wicked!"

"I know very well what you think, Ronald Weasley," she chuckled, turning in Harry's arms to let her eyes twinkle at Ron's. "And not even YOUR bad attitude is going to spoil this. I'm so ready to burst you get a hug too, as punishment!"

Harry found his palms sliding from Hermione's waist as she threw her arms around Ron. The boy turned the color of a beet, patting at her awkwardly before releasing her just as quickly. He smiled indulgently at her. "That was quite a punishment."

Harry's own grin faltered, and without thinking, he stepped forward, tugging at her curls playfully. "It's bloody brilliant."

Her smile spread from ear to ear. "I think so."

"If the three of you are done," Hagrid said from behind them. "You would have realized class was over about two minutes ago."

Hermione flushed. "I've been made a prefect, Hagrid. Next year! That's why I was late."

"Ah... well that's quite wonderful, Hermione! Not that it's a surprise." Hagrid gave her shoulder a squeeze, chucking at her chin. "As for the three of you, would you watch it with the public displays of affection and all? Lookit here, you're getting even ME thinking there's some truth to that whole-"

"Oh, no, not YOU TOO, Hagrid!" Harry growled. "That's rubbish!"

"Nonsense!"

"Hogwash!" Ron finished.

Hagrid chuckled, hands up in surrender. "Just a remark. I saw the article and-"

Hermione humphed, decidedly more cold than she was a second ago. "If you don't mind, Hagrid, I have to go to the library."

"Again?" Ron asked. "Why don't you just move in?"

"And by the way," Hermione said, a sigh falling from her lips as she swiveled on her heel and began to walk away. "If you see a beetle floating around, feel free to crush it."

Hagrid blinked, and Harry felt he had to explain. "Hermione doesn't like beetles."

"I gathered that - why she would want to turn murderous on them..."

"She REALLY doesn't like beetles," Ron grumbled. "Bye, Hagrid."

Harry sighed, shrugging as he glanced back at their old friend. "Not that we don't agree."

He left Hagrid with a decidedly confused expression painting his hairy face.

--

When she was given the position of team Captain for the Gryffindor team, Angelina Johnson made it clear on the very first day that she was not going to be as obsessed as Oliver Wood was with winning the Quidditch Cup.

"No," she said, amidst the gasps of relief. "I'm worse."

Angelina did not lie. As the rain fell from the sky, Harry was shivering with cold, glasses streaked with rain as he struggled to keep an eye out for the golden snitch. Once again, he cursed himself for not remembering the anti fogging charm Hermione had once given him. It would have made things a lot easier.

Still, he was grateful for the distraction. The team, fixated on their practice and their team effort, kept him focused on the thing that really mattered: beating the stuffing out of Slytherin at their next meet.

The team worked hard, and four hours later, it was late, and Harry was dirty, sweaty, sopping wet, and happy as hell about it.

Trudging up the stairs, it was George and Fred who disturbed the Fat Lady. She woke up from her snoring, staring at them both with a droll glare, before asking with an irritated scowl, "Password?"

"Chocolate Pudding," they answered dutifully, stepping back as the portrait swung open. Harry shook his head, hand dragging his broom as he followed suit into the Common room.

"Good practice, Harry," Angelina called, wiping at her hair, dripping the water onto the floor as she flashed him a tired smile. "We'll be ready for that game if it kills us."

"Too late."

"Shut up, Fred."

"That was George!"

"Shut up, George!"

"That was Fred!"

Harry rolled his eyes, leaving the twins to bicker with their captain and turning into the fifth year bedroom, stripping his robes as he went. Falling into bed in his boxers, Harry turned, and sighed, nestling into the flannel sheets, before he heard a small, "Harry?"

Harry blinked his eyes open. "Ron?"

"I've been waiting up for you." Harry turned, his body a sudden dead weight as he discovered Ron sitting up in the bed next to his.

"Why?"

Ron looked troubled, red hair falling into disarray into his face. Harry studied him in the half light. He had grown in the past year, taller than Harry, with strongly defined arms and without the lanky awkwardness that Fred and George had been subjected to.

If asked, Harry would have been forced to admit he thought Ron had grown into... a handsome bloke. Harry wondered for a moment if Hermione thought so.

"Well, I've just been... I couldn't sleep," Ron finally admitted, brushing back at his bangs and scratching dully at his ears. "I was with Hermione today after dinner, and I was-"

"Hermione? What were you doing?" Harry blurted, and it came out as the stupidest thing he had ever said.

Shooting him a strange look, Ron answered evenly, "What we always do when you practice, sit in the common room."

"Oh." Harry had the sense enough to blush, and was thankful for the dark half light that kept his features at least somewhat hidden. "Right."

"But it did get me thinking."

"About what?" Harry asked.

"What if one day... and not Hermione- but another girl, because we don't... not like that... but if a girl- say I liked a girl, and I suspected she might have had feelings for you-"

Harry stared hard at Ron, flickered down his gaze to find Ron held a picture in his hands.

The shape was familiar. He had his very own copy, in his photo album, hidden under his invisible cloak. It was a picture of the three of them at the end of the fourth year.

Harry looked down. Ron's face when Hermione was dancing with Krum at the Yule Ball last year now was painted vividly in his memories. The kiss burned on his cheek that Hermione gave him, and the look he received from Ron as a result... the constant torment Ron put Hermione through this year- more than ever...

"Harry, if it did come out that you... perhaps that you were... slightly interested in... Hermione-"

Harry closed his eyes, pulling off his glasses. For some reason, he no longer wanted to see Ron, not right now. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, broke into Ron's mumbles with a sigh.

"Ron..." Harry began heavily. "Are you in love with Hermione?"

Ron was absolutely quiet, a little too quiet. "No," he said suddenly. He laughed, and it seemed just a little too loud. "Not that I don't think she's turned... she's got a cute nose and all..."

Harry grinned, a picture of Hermione with her nose scrunched making him laugh slightly. "Yeah..."

"But... It's Hermione!"

Harry blinked. "Right. It's Hermione! And..."

"That's all there is to that. There's simply not... she's not a girl, she's... "

"Hermione," Harry finished with a heavy sigh.

"That's right!" Ron fell silent, suddenly twiddling with his sheets. "Harry?"

Harry fell flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling, hands crossed against his chest. "Yeah?"

"Are you... you know..."

Harry heard it coming. He knew that there was something close to fear in Ron's tone. He heard it, and he knew his answer, but he almost choked getting it out- remembering suddenly a thousand different moments with Hermione. Smiling over her books, staying up till past midnight working on summoning spells, the look on her face when Malfoy cursed her with the rabbit teeth...

He swallowed down hard. He wasn't. He wasn't at all, but... dismissing the possibility... telling Ron... it might leave one to think that Harry would never... and if that was true then... Ron might...

"No," he said finally. "I'm not. And you're not."

Ron was quiet entirely too long. "I'm not."

"Good," Harry said, no longer able to look at him, teeth now digging into his lower lip as he let out a sigh. "Because... we don't need that. A love triangle. It would ruin... things."

"There IS no love triangle!" Ron said, as if it were the most ridiculous thing on earth. "I mean, there are far more beautiful girls in this school than Hermione!"

Harry closed his eyes and thought of the cold look on Cho's face... of the decision almost a year and a half ago when he beheld Ron, Hermione, and Cho all underwater, all needing rescuing...

For a moment all he saw back then were Hermione and Ron.

"Yes, after all Hermione is just... Hermione."

"Exactly!"

"Of course!"

"All RIGHT!" Two beds down, Neville Longbottom sat up, rubbing at his eyes. "WE GET IT! You're both in love with Hermione! Now, shut up!" Grumbled murmurs of agreement came from all around the beds.

Harry sat up so fast the blood rushed into his head, making him slightly dizzy. With a groan, he rubbed at his head, sharing a panicked glance with Ron before turning toward the culprit.

"We're NOT in love with her!" he shouted.

"That's right!" Ron sputtered. "If you're going to eavesdrop into our conversation at least do it right!"

"All right! You're not!" Neville grumbled from his bed. Harry shook his head, sharing a glance of exasperation with Ron. There was a moment of silence, then, "But you are."

"No, we're not!"

"Yes, you are!"

"We're NOT!"

"Ron!" Harry reached forward, stopping Ron from jumping off the bed. Ron gave him a furious glance, but Harry's expression was pure resignation. "Forget it. Let's go to bed."

"But they-"

"Don't know a blasted thing. Let's go to bed."

Ron's face twisted into a scowl, but he nodded, and Harry gave a sigh of relief, shifting in his sheets, and closing his eyes.

"Night, Harry."

For some reason, he wasn't the least bit sleepy now. His eyes opened, and he stared at the doorway.

"Night, Ron."

--

Dredging into the breakfast room the next day, Harry discovered Hermione by herself, happily chewing on a piece of toast. Settling down on the bench, Harry offered her a smile, once again envying her alert attitude.

"Are you all right?" she asked, pushing a piece of toast to his side of the table, flashing him a concerned pout. "You look tired."

"I am," he remarked honestly. "Quidditch practice ran late, and then Ron and I..."

"Ron and you what?" she asked curiously. Harry paused, glancing up and staring into her eyes, just for a minute.

"Nothing," he said after a moment. With a rueful grin, he reached over and grabbed a napkin. "You've got crumbs on your chin. Here."

She blushed in embarrassment, but obediently held still as he flickered away the crumbles clinging to her skin. She smelled nice, like jasmine and hortencias. He grinned, until his gaze shifted and the stare of Cho suddenly burned into him. Caught staring, she immediately averted her gaze. He blinked, shuffling and feeling oddly guilty.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked suddenly.

"Mmm... as well as can be expected," Hermione answered, scooping up a ladle of porridge. "My reputation as 'the Scarlet Woman' and unrepentant love of Harry Potter's life, has made me quite the funnel for gossip." He managed a tight smile to her big one. She shrugged. "Where's Ron?"

"Still asleep when I left," he answered quickly. "He's coming."

"He's here," she answered, smile breaking into a wider grin as she looked behind him. "Hey, Ron!"

"Hermione," Ron grumbled, pushing down next to Harry. "Harry," he said after a moment.

"Ron," Harry answered, averting the glare, knowing the reason for it. Harry usually woke Ron up before breakfast, and yet... this morning something had stopped him. Hermione was usually there first, and Harry thought it would be nice, just nice, to talk to their friend alone...

Ron and Hermione exchanged the usual pleasantries, and Harry, still tired from the fretful night and aching with a worry he could not pinpoint, kept his arms crossed, sitting next to Ron, staring across the table to Hermione.

"Mail's here!" someone announced, and on cue, hundreds of owls flew into the room. Harry didn't look up for it. Even now, he didn't have much mail, with occasional exceptions thanks to Sirius and Remus, which were scarce thanks to their hunts for Voldemort.

It came as no surprise, however, that Hermione ended up with no less than ten owls crowded around her. Harry pushed aside one bearing a howler, sharing a sigh of contempt with Ron.

"It's started already," Ron said frankly. "What did I tell you?"

"And what did I tell you?" Hermione snapped back. "I'll ignore it!"

"You've got two howlers!" Neville said cheerily. "Try ignoring those!" Hermione rolled her eyes, plucking the hate mail from the waiting birds and letting them go on their way.

"Oh, dear..." she gave the two howlers a mortified look. "How will I-"

Ron and Harry glanced at each other, then at the waiting room of students. "Give them here," Harry said finally, he and Ron each taking a Howler. "We'll get them."

Hermione clamped her hands over her ears. "Would it be premature to call you both my heroes?"

"Just a bit," Harry remarked, scowling.

"On three, ready?" Ron asked, a smile forming on his features. At his look, Harry couldn't help but smile back. This was really too ridiculous for words.

"I'll count," Hermione said, grinning now too. "One... two... three!"

The howlers were ripped open, and curses filled the hall as Hermione Granger was called every name in the scrolls by what appeared to have been a twelve year old and a forty year old that sounded suspiciously like Ron's mother ("Honestly, Ron!" Hermione said above the noise. "Would you please ask her to stop believing this rubbish?"). By the time the howlers tore themselves into pieces, Ron and Harry were both cracking up, and even Hermione had collapsed into giggles.

The entire hall had joined in, and perhaps that was what they all needed, the laughter at the entire situation that ended with Harry clapping Ron on the back in an amiable hug, shaking his head as he attempt to recover.

"Bloody hell," Ron said, shoulders shaking. "It can only get better from here!"

"Don't count on it," Hermione said, hands to her mouth as she gave in to another set of giggles. "Wait until Viktor's teammates read it. You'll BOTH be getting these!"

THAT was decidedly less funny.

The quiet fell over the trio again, and while Harry battled a nightmarish vision of Bulgarian Seekers chasing him on Firebolts with bats, Ron popped up with a question he was utterly unprepared for.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"If there was a triangle-" Harry choked on his food, but Ron continued. "And you were- you had to choose..."

Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "I think we've established by your fervent denials, that there is no feasible way the two of your would ever develop romantic feelings for me. After all, I'm just 'Hermione'."

"Yes, well- but if there was-"

"Ron-"

"Hermione, if there WAS." Hermione sighed, placing her fork on the table and settling back patiently.

"Yes?"

Ron swallowed visibly, glancing toward Harry. Harry himself was now frozen solid, horrified by Ron's question, and yet, bloody curious... He whipped his head back to Hermione.

Now that both boys had their attention fixated on her, Hermione looked slightly taken aback.

"If there WAS a triangle," Harry managed, shifting a look at Ron. Ron nodded. Harry nodded back, and took a breath. "Not that there IS-"

"Yes, I KNOW, Harry," Hermione snapped.

"Right- well, if there WAS-"

"I'm rapidly losing patience with this," she remarked, gathering her books.

"Who would you choose?!" Ron was so fretful to get the words out, he nearly shouted the sentence. The entire hall suddenly quieted, and Hermione suddenly found herself the focus of attention, yet again.

The look she gave them would have wilted lesser men. "I don't believe this," she said finally. "Honestly!"

"Well?" Harry asked, leaning forward.

Hermione's eyes glittered, staring at Harry, then at Ron, shifting between both boys. "I would think it'd be obvious!" she huffed indignantly, in the most patronizing, contemptible tone she could muster.

Harry blinked, and before he could stop himself, mumbled "Ron?" at the same time he heard "Harry?" coming from Ron.

The look they both received clearly insinuated she thought they were both idiots.

"NEITHER!" she finally burst. "Honestly! Do you really believe I would jeopardize our friendship for something as trivial as a fancy fling? Please!"

With that, Hermione grabbed her books, and with a swish of her robes, a flounce of her body, and a jiggle of her curls, she left the table, jasmine and hortencia scent in her wake.

Potter was severely unnerved, and the snickers he heard around him did nothing to stop the slight pang of betraying disappointment. The dumbfounded expression on Ron's face seemed to mimic his own, and for a moment, all he could do was sit there.

Ron recovered first. "Ah," he said. "I guess that settles that."

"Yeah," Harry said numbly. "Not that there ever WAS..."

"Of course not." Ron gave a hollow laugh. "'Makings of a modern love triangle.' Ha!"

"Yeah. Rubbish."

"Right."

They fell silent.

Harry Potter twiddled with his wand, staring down at it as he sat beside Ron, suddenly unsure what to say now that the fate of the nonexistent triangle had been decided so easily.

"You know, I think I'll go see if she needs any help in the library," Ron said suddenly.

Harry pushed away his toast, getting up immediately. "I'll help you!"

Both boys scrambled off the bench and headed fast and quick toward the main hall's exit, hurrying after their friend.

FIN