Faery Heroes

Chapter 1: Fae-Crossed Lovers

I welcome one and all to the first chapter of my response fic! Since only a few people have told me which of my story ideas they would prefer to see, I'm going to be posting both of them for a couple of weeks and judge which, if either, is being enjoyed more. This will (hopefully) be funny and happy, so please enjoy.

Disclaimer: Did Harry choose one girl at the end, and one of the worst available at that? If so, I don't own the Harry Potter franchise; it belongs to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, Warner Bros., and whoever else she sold the rights to.
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"No means no."

"Come on, Harry. Pleeease?" begged a blonde woman, her silver eyes glistening with tears as she gazed into Harry's emerald ones. "We haven't had pancakes in so loooong."

Harry stared at his lover in astonishment. "We had them yesterday!"

"But that was for breakfast, and it's dinner now. You never make us pancakes for dinner." Her point made, Luna pouted at him, cutely of course. She couldn't afford to lessen her chances to make him cave.

Harry, however, was unmoved. "I have enough trouble with you wanting them every day for breakfast, you're not having them for dinner. If you want pancakes that much, you or Hermione can make them."

Her glare was enough of an answer, but she followed it up in case he was being spectacularly stupid. "Harry, sweetie, Hermione may be an expert in potions brewing, but not even starving babies would eat her cooking. Don't you remember what her last attempt was like?"

"Nope." He grinned at her surprise and tapped his temple, "I dislike Lockhart for many reasons, but I do agree with him about Obliviate. It's a handy spell to have."

"What's a handy spell?" his other lover asked as she entered the den. "And what's for dinner?"

"Harry's making us pancakes!" Luna cheered. He could resist Hermione, he could even occasionally resist her, but he would never be able to resist them both.

"What! No I'm not!"

"Really, Harry, pancakes? You have to learn to say no to her eventually. But since you have decided to make them, I won't stop you this time."

He sighed, hung his head, and began shuffling to the kitchen, missing his girls' twin expressions of glee.

"And use some of those blueberries! There aren't many places we can get them, after all."

Whoever said having multiple girlfriends at the same time was a good thing had obviously never experienced it.

Even though they're pains in my arse, I wouldn't give them up for anything, Harry thought as he mixed berries into the batter for the trio's dinner. His time with them had been the happiest of his life, and it would be perfect if not for the conditions outside their manor. War had a way of putting a damper on one's enthusiasm.

Voldemort had not been quite as dead as everyone had hoped. The day before the battle, he had apparently been so terrified by the loss of his Horcruces that he created another, this one a simple stone that he left at the bottom of the Black Lake. Thanks to Lucius Malfoy's assistance, he had returned to physical form in just four years and immediately proceeded to take over the Ministry of Magic – again – and declare war on 'the enemies of all wizards', the Muggles. His first strike was an assassination attempt against the Queen and Prime Minister.

It failed miserably.

No one in the Ministry knew anything about how Muggles waged war. In retrospect, that should have been obvious; after all, their 'expert' was unable to recognize children's bath toys or even pronounce Muggle words correctly. When grenades and bullets rained down on Diagon Alley, there had been no warning and no quarter. Two years later, the magical population of Britain had fallen from its previous 14,000 to only 4,500, and those survivors all nearly worshiped Voldemort as the one man to recognize the threat Muggles presented. Strange how quickly they forgot who it had been who first stirred up that hornet's nest.