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The multiverse can be a very strange and frightening place, especially if your name is Harry Potter. An infinite number of possibilities appear to exist. There are realms where Harry is a girl, realms where he is the twin brother to the supposed Boy Who Lived, realms where Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven is the protagonist (though those realms, for the sake of our sanities, should be ignored at all costs). Yet if you had asked Harry Potter, he would say that not a single one of those realms would be stranger than the one he was currently occupying. A realm that seemed so incalculably unlikely that even a realm where Dobby wielded a groinsaw seemed more plausible.
In this universe, Harry was actually paying attention in history class.
In Harry’s defense, he had a very good reason for it. It had been a very confusing few days for him. He was being forced into attending the stupid Yule Ball. Apparently, it was mandatory for Triwizard champions. Never mind, of course, the inconvenient fact he wasn’t a real champion, and had been entered in the deathtrap masquerading as a tournament against his will. Never mind the fact Harry would rather just spend a pleasant evening reading. No one ever gave a damn what Harry Potter wanted, did they?
So now he had to find a date to a ball he desperately did not want to attend, in order to honor a champion who had been placed in a tournament against his will as a murder attempt! That was so perverse that it bordered on absurd in his opinion. Now in theory, Harry shouldn’t have had any difficulties finding a date. Quite a few girls had already asked him, but he turned them down. In most cases, he told himself that he just refused to go with someone he didn’t even know the name of.
But he’d also turned down Lavender Brown, who he thought was nice and pretty even if she wasn’t precisely his type. Harry told himself, and sometimes believed it, that the reason why he’d turned down Lavender was because he didn’t want to lead her on. After all, there was a very decent chance he wouldn’t survive the school year. What kind of thing was that to do to someone?
But then he’d turned down Katie Bell, who made it very clear she was just asking as friends because she’d noticed how freaked out he was by the prospect of asking someone to the ball. She’d made it quite clear that she neither expected nor wanted any romantic entanglements out of him; to her, he was pretty much her little brother. Logic dictated that Harry should have accepted. After all, Katie was fun to be around. They could have had a very pleasant evening. But he still said no.
He told himself that the true reason why he had rejected all those girls was because he wanted to go with Cho Chang. Oh, Cho was simply gorgeous and she was amazing on a broom. But he simply couldn’t bring himself to ask her. And though he told himself it was because he was too nervous, Harry knew there was another reason. He didn’t want to ask Cho to the Yule Ball. In truth, the real truth, there were not one but two people he wanted to be his dates. But he couldn’t ask either one of them.
As much as his friends had urged him to let go of the horrible things the Dursleys called him, Harry couldn’t help but think that maybe the Dursleys had had a bit of a point sometimes. Harry, you see, had a dark secret. He liked boys. And more than that, he liked Ron. It had crept on him slowly over the last year. Slowly, insidiously, Harry was forced to confront the fact that not only was his best mate phenomenally attractive, but he was also funny, sweet, and charming. Even perfectly ordinary mannerisms conspired to attempt to make Harry a blushing mess.
Oh, Harry had tried to deny it. Over and over again. He wasn’t some queer. He liked girls! And that part wasn’t denial. He could appreciate female beauty as more than mere aesthetic. It’s just he felt the same way about male beauty. Desperately, he’d tried to hide his feelings about Ron to himself. But it proved to be futile. The last straw was when Ron had bravely stood up against a man he thought was a mass murderer while his leg was broken. At that moment, Harry knew he was hopelessly in love with Ron Weasley, a boy who would never return his feelings, no doubt.
But then things got even more confusing and bewildering for him! Because then he’d had to save Buckbeak and Sirius with Hermione, and on their time traveling adventure, riding on the back of Buckbeak, pressed against his friend’s back, he had the exact same feelings. And why not? After all, Hermione was exceptionally beautiful. How anyone could mistake her for plain or even ugly made no sense whatsoever. She was staggeringly brilliant and ferociously loyal.
By all accounts, Harry should have confessed his feelings to her. It was the logical thing to do. He was a boy, she was a girl. It was the right way of doing things. Asking her out to the ball was also logical. Yet…yet if Harry asked her out, he’d have to give up on the dream of having Ron be his boyfriend, as freakish as that dream might be.
The thoughts this dilemma kept on inspiring in Harry continued to percolate and boil and left him severely discombobulated, desperately seeking some sort of distraction. Hence the almost incomprehensibly unlikely circumstance – bordering on thermodynamic miracle level, really – of him paying attention in history class.
“…deposed by the Triumvirate in 1777,” Binns said as Harry forced himself to listen. “Jones, his husband Francis and his wife Anne, ruled the Ministry of Magic until 1805…”
Harry blinked. And then he blinked again. He could not have heard what he just thought he heard. A male historical figure – a ruler of the mages of Britain – had a husband?! And a wife?! In the eighteenth century? And people were okay with it?
“Wait, whoa, hang on a second,” Harry said, not caring that he was interrupting the class. “You’re saying he was married to a man? And a woman? But this was, like, some special nobility thing, right? We don’t do that anymore, do we?”
Everyone stared at him. “Uh, no, Harry,” Neville said. “I mean, polyamory is pretty common these days. And, of course, the magical world is fine with homosexuality…well, some bigots like Malfoy have a problem with it.” He frowned. “Do you?”
“No!” Harry said quickly. “No, no, I was just, uh, surprised. We don’t…Muggles don’t really like boys who like, uh, other boys. And we – they certainly don’t appreciate people who are in a relationship with more than one person…and…you know, I really want to hear what happens next, please, professor?”
Binns launched into the next part of his lecture without even seeming to notice he’d been interrupted in the first place, as was par the course for him. Things were getting back to normal insofar as Harry was no longer paying attention in history class…but the reason for that was anything but normal.
He could do it.
He could ask Ron and Hermione out! He could be in a relationship with both of them, with the beautiful brunette and gorgeous ginger of his dreams. People in the magical world wouldn’t think Harry was a freak. Well, no more than they already did. The thought of having both Ron and Hermione on his arms, of going to dates with the three of them in Hogsmeade, it just wouldn’t leave him.
But would they say yes?
Just because they could say yes didn’t mean they would. What if Ron didn’t like boys? What if he thought of Harry as like his brother? Their friendship still felt unstable after their reconciliation after the first task. What if this caused it to shatter, yet again, into a thousand irreparable pieces? And Hermione was Muggleborn. Maybe she was homophobic herself. The idea of losing even one of them was crushing, let alone both. Perhaps it was just better to keep it to himself.
“So you see, Katie, that’s probably the best course of action,” Harry said as he explained all this to her at dinner. For some reason, Hermione and Ron were nowhere to be found, but that wasn’t unwelcome, because it gave Harry a chance to talk to one of his closest confidants without the subject of his conversation potentially listening in. Ever since the two of them had become friends, Harry just found it so easy to talk to Katie and confide his problems in her. Without her, he'd have probably gone mad eons ago.
Katie studied him carefully and then proceed to flick him rather sharply on the nose. “What was that for?” Harry demanded.
“You’re being an idiot, Harry Potter, that’s what that’s for,” Katie said bluntly. “Do you have any idea how much those friends of yours adore you? Even if they didn’t feel the same way – and honestly, how could they not; how can you not feel the tension between you – what makes you think they’d stop being your friends just cause you have a crush on them?”
“Ron stopped being my friend cause he thought I entered my name in the Goblet,” Harry reminded her.
“Yeah, and he learned his lesson,” Katie shot back. “He’s not going to make that mistake twice. Look, I wouldn’t be surprised if they knew already and were just waiting for you to realize it. I mean…it’s kind of obvious.”
Harry let out a gasp. “It is?”
“Well, maybe to me cause we’re siblings,” Katie conceded. It was a running joke between the two of them that they were brother and sister. At least Harry thought Katie was joking. Sometimes, he wasn’t so sure.
Something suddenly occurred to Harry. “Hang on a second. If you knew the whole time, why’d you ask me to the ball?”
Katie shrugged. “Cause I was getting sick of being asked out by boys who thought no was optional. If I went with the Boy Who Lived, they’d back off. And you may be spectacularly dense at times, Harry, but you’re definitely a gentleman. I knew you wouldn’t make a move on me.”
Harry shuddered at the very thought. The idea was almost sick. “Of course not!”
Katie suddenly gave him a smile. “Tell you what, Harry. You ask them and if they don’t say yes, I’ll go with you as a friend. Either way, you’ve got yourself a date. And if they give you trouble…” Her grin turned diabolical. “Well, let’s just say I know a lot of useful spells.”
“Thanks, Katie,” Harry said. “I’m glad you’ve got my back.”
When Harry returned to the common room, he was both excited and dismayed in equal measures to see Ron and Hermione waiting for him, deep in conversation with one another. A part of him wanted to take the easy path and just slip past them and go to sleep. But unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, the part of him that wanted to ask them seemed to be in control. Harry could feel his heart thundering in his chest like it was about to explode.
It was so bizarre! He’d literally faced down a dragon. He’d killed a bloody enormous basilisk! He’d fought his parents’ killer in his first year at Hogwarts. And he was scared of his two best friends. The idea should have been laughable. But it wasn’t. Harry was just practically shaking with fear.
“Harry?!” Ron said, his eyes wide with horror. “Bloody hell, mate, what happened to you? You’re white as a sheet! Oh, shite, did you run into a boggart?”
“Whatever it is, we’re here for you, Harry,” Hermione promised.
Harry took a deep breath. Here it was. The moment of truth. If Neville had been pranking him, he was going to rip his esophagus out and strangle him to death with it. “Would you go to the ball with me?!” he practically shouted at the top of his lungs. Thank God the common room was otherwise empty.
“Of course I would, Harry!” Hermione said at the exact moment Ron said, “I’d love to!”
The two of them looked at each other and blinked, looking surprised, but only mildly so. “Oh, so you were serious, then?” Hermione asked Ron.
Ron stared at her like she’d sprouted a second head. “Blimey, Hermione, you think I’d joke about something like that?” Harry had no clue what was going on, and honestly, it was kind of reassuring, because that was par the course for him. Ron turned to look at Harry. “Uh, so which one of us we’re you asking?”
Harry steeled himself. “Both of you? I’m sorry, I know it’s wrong! But I like you both, and I just can’t decide! And I know I shouldn’t like boys, and I tried to tell myself I like girls, and I do like them, and it’s so bloody confusing!”
Hermione put a hand on his chest. “Breathe.” In Harry’s opinion, if Hermione wanted him to calm down, that was entirely the wrong gesture to get him to do it, but at least it had managed to get him to shut up, so that was a plus. “Harry, there’s nothing wrong with you at all. You’re bisexual. It’s not a popular thing in the Muggle world, but in the magical world, it’s perfectly normal. Well, unless you’re a Death Eater type, of course.”
“Me too,” Ron admitted. “Blokes and birds, I like them both.” He blushed. “You and Hermione, I like you both.”
“I like the two of you too,” Hermione admitted, her blush even more pronounced than Ron’s, which was a considerable accomplishment.
Harry blinked repeatedly. Maybe this wasn’t happening. Maybe he’d nodded off on one of the couches while waiting for Ron and Hermione to return and this was all some glorious, fantastic dream he was having. He pinched himself, but he didn’t wake up. Well, if this was a dream, he might as well go along with it, he figured. “You both like me?” he asked in amazement. “And you both want to go with me to the ball?”
“As dense as you can be, you do have some positive qualities,” Hermione said jokingly.
“Oi, lay off him!” Ron said. “Even here, it can be bloody puzzling figuring this stuff up. And I bet Harry’s relatives didn’t like people like us…”
“Oh, goodness me, you’re right, Ron,” Hermione said, her face turning pale. “I didn’t even think about that.”
Harry clenched his fists. “I don’t want to talk about them.”
“You’re quite right, Harry, there’s much to be done,” Hermione said briskly, slipping into her patented planning mode. Harry and Ron shared a fond smile. Their girlfriend – and holy shit that was a thought that was as bizarre as it was amazing – could be quite predictable at times. “We’ve obviously got to do something about those robes of yours, Ron – I’ll ask Parvati; she owes me a favor. I need to find some way to let Viktor down easily; I already accepted his invitation, but of course I didn’t know you two liked me like that.”
Harry and Ron stared at Hermione. “Viktor Krum asked you to the ball,” Ron said flatly. “Drop dead gorgeous Viktor Krum, the best Seeker outside of this room, asked you to be his date?”
“Well, you needn’t be so surprised,” Hermione said crossly.
“It’s not that,” Harry hastened to assure her. “It’s just…you could have gone with the most famous Seeker out there, and you chose to go with us instead.”
“You are the most famous Seeker out there, technically, you know. Look, just between the three of us, Viktor is in a relationship with one of his male classmates – I’m not at liberty to say which one – but Bulgaria is a lot less accepting of that sort of thing than we are. He just wanted someone to go with who wouldn’t make a move on him.”
Harry brightened. “So did Katie! They can go together!” It was the least Harry could do for her, after all, after Katie went to the trouble of talking some much needed sense into him.
As the ball approached, Harry felt happier than he had in years. Ron was his boyfriend, and Hermione was his girlfriend. Even one of those things would have been an incredible miracle, let alone both. It was assuredly the best thing that had ever happened to him since he found out he was a wizard. In fact, he was in such a good mood, he got a lecture from Professor McGonagall about the dangers of excessively using cheering charms. When he told her the real reason behind his happiness, the lecture morphed into one about how to use contraceptive spells; Harry could not get out of the room fast enough when he was dismissed.
Sirius had been pretty pleased too when he heard the news through a letter, pointing out that he had his father’s taste in both gingers and exceedingly smart girls. He reminded Harry that communication was the key to any successful relationship and a polyamorous one – Harry had never heard that term beforehand – required even more communication than average.
Mrs. Weasley, as it turned out, had been absolutely ecstatic when she heard the news. She’d been pretty much planning Harry and Ron’s wedding since the summer after his first year (Harry was amazed it had been so obvious even back then) and adding Hermione to the mix just made her even happier. Hermione ended up getting her first Weasley sweater and she barely even seemed to go anywhere without wearing it.
“I can’t believe they gave you a goddamn tissue,” Hermione muttered on Christmas Day upon hearing the news the Dursleys had, in fact, given Harry a goddamn tissue. It was rare she ever swore, though the Dursleys were one of the most common subjects that prompted her to do it. “Right, that’s it. There’s no way I’m letting you get back to that house this summer. My boyfriend deserves better.”
Harry gave an embarrassingly dopy grin at the word boyfriend, as he seemed to do every time his boyfriend and girlfriend called him that. “That’s so nice…uh, but I think there’s nothing you can do about it, Hermione.”
Ron winced. “Oh, now you’ve done it, love.”
“Don’t you ever say something is impossible,” Hermione hissed, a scarily calm expression on her face. Harry shivered with fear and a tiny bit of lust. “I do not believe in the limits of the possible. We are mages. Nothing is impossible for us.”
“Yeah, Harry!” Ron agreed, scooting away minutely. “I mean, they said it was impossible to defeat a troll, but we did that too, anyway? We’ll get you away from those awful people.”
Harry grinned at his partners. He didn’t want to give himself too much hope, lest it be taken away from him later, but it was really hard not to feel hopeful with the way they looked right now. Anyway, he wasn’t going to spoil his good mood with thinking about the Dursleys. Not when he was about to show off his partners to the whole school. Okay, sure, everyone knew about it. They hadn’t been precisely subtle nor had they tried to hide it. But this was the official moment they were going to go public. It was as exciting as it was terrifying.
On the bright side, people didn’t really seem to care very much that the Golden Trio was now a Golden Triad. In fact, the general consensus seemed to indicate that it was “about bloody time” in the words of Seamus. Sure, berks like Malfoy and Parkinson gave smug and rude comments, but they did that all the time, and would have done it no matter who Harry dated.
It took forever for Hermione to get ready for the ball. Being in a relationship with a girl, it would seem, did not mean some things wouldn’t remain forever a mystery, and Harry had a hunch it was best if those things stayed one. On the bright side, it meant Harry got a lot of time to marvel over Parvati’s handiwork. (She figured she might as well help out the rest of the boys with their robes as well, especially since she was going to the ball with Neville.) Somehow, though the idea seemed even more miraculous than magic itself, Parvati had transformed Ron’s dress robes into something that made him look suave and dashing, if rather old fashioned.
“Oh, thanks a million, Parvati,” Ron said fervently. “I owe you one. No, one million!”
“No problem, Ron,” Parvati said with a smile. “I couldn’t let you go to the ball dressed like that. It’d make Gryffindor look like a laughingstock.”
Harry grinned and, summoning every bit of Gryffindor courage he had, kissed Ron on the cheek. Ron touched his cheek in awe and giggled. “Cor blimey,” he mumbled.
“We’re going to have to deal with years of this,” Parvati complained.
“I think it’s nice,” Lavender said with a smile. Harry was just glad she had no ill will towards him for turning her down.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door to the common room opened and Hermione stepped through. Harry’s jaw was on the floor. The time had been well spent to say the least. Hermione looked gorgeous, stunning, almost ethereal and angelic. Well, she always looked like that, in Harry’s opinion, but all of those attributes had been dialed up to a hundred now.
“Wow,” Harry breathed, amazed he was even able to function enough to say that word.
“Oh, you like it, then?” Hermione asked, sounding self-conscious. “I was worried it might be a little much.”
“It’s great!” Ron shouted so loud he made everyone wince. “You look stunning, Mia.”
Hermione blushed. “Mia? I…I like that.” She twisted her hands nervously. “Oh, this is so nerve-wracking. I’m absolutely awful at social situations. And so many important people will be there. I’m just worried I’m going to screw up!”
“What’s to screw up?” Harry demanded. “We’re gonna have a good time. It’s not like anyone will be trying to kill us there…I hope.” Though with the way his life was, he didn’t entirely rule out the possibility.
“All right, enough chatter,” Lavender said, suddenly clapping her hands. “We have a ball to get to.”
Holding the hands of his partners, Harry allowed himself to be escorted into the Great Hall. A part of him still wanted to scream and run, but he figured it couldn’t be worse than the basilisk. Harry braced for jeers and sneers from people as the Golden Triad was introduced, but aside from the usual suspects, whose comments were blunted by all the authority figures around them, no one seemed to give a damn.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way to the top table, along with the other champions and their partners. Harry was fairly shocked to see Padma as Fleur’s partner, though Katie and Krum being together was hardly a surprise. Katie seemed very smug with Krum on her arm, though Harry knew it was only because she liked everyone being jealous of her.
When they reached the table, Harry was shocked to find that no one seemed to care very much that he had two dates. Dumbledore was smiling beatifically at them, looking almost proud. Madame Maxine didn’t even seem to notice. Bagman seemed just as jubilant as everyone else. Karkaroff, of course, was fuming mad, but then again, Harry didn’t really give a damn about his opinion, and he really couldn’t do much, not in front of everyone. And Mr. Crouch…wasn’t there. Huh. Instead, Percy was looking at him very, very smugly.
“Harry, old chap, good to see you again,” Percy said in an affable tone. “I’ve been promoted, you know. I’m Mr. Crouch’s personal assistant – if you hurt my brother they’ll never find your body – and I’m here representing him.”
“Sorry, what was that last part?” Percy just gave a bland, innocent smile, and Harry was reminded that for all his love of rules and authority, he was still from the same family that had sired the twins.
“Relax, Perce,” Ron said, wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulder. “Harry’s a decent bloke.”
Percy’s smile turned more unthreatening. Well, relatively so. “That’s good to hear. Just remember, I work at the Ministry now…and I can make life utterly miserable for you.”
“Bold of you to assume it’s not miserable already,” Harry quipped. Dumbledore coughed and Harry could have sworn he was trying to hide a smile. The dinner was a little awkward, what with the international visitors and Karkaroff trying to make increasingly blatant comments to provoke Harry. Fortunately, Katie came to the rescue by keeping the conversation as far away from them as possible. Unfortunately, she was not always able to direct the conversation successfully all the time.
“Of course, in Bulgaria, we don’t stand for deviant elements in our society,” Karkaroff sneered. “Such elements are not tolerated. They are…”
“Unnatural,” a gruff voice called out. Harry’s head shot up to look at Moody, walking towards the table, his face even tenser than normal. “When I was their age, I wouldn’t have even considered showing up with two dates, much less a boy.”
Hermione let out a snarl that seemed even more frightening, somehow, than the dragon had. “How dare you? Apologize right now, sir!”
Moody opened his mouth to speak, but before he could do so, Dumbledore suddenly drew his wand and cast a Stunning Spell on Moody, who crashed to the ground, unconscious. “Sir!” Harry shouted. “I appreciate the support, but was that really necessary?” While he appreciated Dumbledore defending him, this was taking it too far in his opinion.
“That is not Alastor,” Dumbledore said gravely, his face grim and angry. “Or he is under some influence. Alastor never had any problem with homosexuals or triads. Severus!”
Snape stepped forward, his face dispassionate. He immediately went for “Moody’s” trademark flask and sniffed it. “Polyjuice potion.” He flicked his wand and handcuffs formed around the fake Moody’s hands. “That should keep him dealt with until it wears off…”
“He must have put my name in the Goblet of Fire,” Harry realized.
Dumbledore gave a weary, ponderous sigh. “I have had too much on my plate for too long, I think, if I did not notice that. Perhaps it is time I…no, now is not the moment to discuss such things.” He cast a Sonorus so the whole crowd could hear him. “Everyone, please do not panic! We will have this whole situation resolved presently. You are in no danger. For now, remain in this room and enjoy the rest of your evening.” He and Snape quickly brought the unconscious imposter out of the room.
Harry shook his head in wonderment. “I…I can’t believe it. And just think, if I’d hadn’t asked the two of you out, maybe we never would have found him until it was too late.”
“I wonder what his endgame was…” Hermione mused. “If he gave you the advice you needed to survive the first task, then winning the tournament was surely part of his plan.
Ron coughed. “Hermione, I’m sure the adults have the situation handled.” She arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. “What I mean is, I want to dance.”
“Oh!” Hermione said, her face turning red with embarrassment. “Right. Sorry about that.”
“How…how is this going to work?” Harry asked, and he wasn’t entirely meaning just the dancing part. By the looks of it, Ron and Hermione realized that too.
“Well…we’ll figure it out together,” Ron said.
So Harry took his partners over to the dance floor and for the first time in ages, just enjoyed the experience of being an ordinary teenager. He didn’t have to worry about deadly tasks or the scorn of the school and if Hermione had her way – which she nearly always did – he wouldn’t have to worry about the Dursleys for a while.
In the fullness of time, Barty Crouch Jr. would reveal the whole plan under Veritaserum. He would name names and those names would stand trial. The Aurors would capture Voldemort’s homunculus and throw him through the Veil of Death. Peter Pettigrew would be killed resisting arrest. Sirius Black would be free and Harry would live with him. In time, the Horcruxes would be found and destroyed. In time, the magical world would be spared another devastating war.
But for now, Harry just danced with his partners and drank in the magic around him, none of which was more powerful than the love he saw reflected in Ron and Hermione’s eyes.