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hpkinkfestTitle: Watch, Feel, Love, Heal
Author: Good_Witch aka![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pern_dragon
Prompt Number: 164, submitted bysoftobsidian74, plus more inspiration from 333, submitted by mistress_ashley
Kink Showcased: voyeurism/exhibitionism, double penetration
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): HP/HG, HG/RW, RW/HP, HP/RW/HG
Summary: After years of relying on each other to survive, now the Trio must rely on each other to live.
Warnings: (highlight for details): *voyeurism/exhibitionism, double penetration, threesome, rimming*
Word Count: 18,100+
Author's Notes: This fic was supposed to be a PWP romp, but when I got the bright idea to make it canon-compliant and pick up at the end of the last chapter of the last book (before the Epilogue of Doom ™), all of that got crushed under the heavy emotions that avalanched down in the aftermath of war. So, we ended up with this much-longer-than-anticipated fic. I hope the smut manages to make up for the heaviness and pain, and that you enjoy it, even though I’d bet dollars to doughnuts that something like this was the furthest thing from your mind when you wrote your prompts. Thanks tonannycrafts, gelsey, snapeybears, and darkcelestial20 for beta and feedback. Any and all remaining mistakes are my own problems and in no way reflect on those lovely ladies.
Watch, Feel, Love, Heal
May 2, 1998
The war was finally over.
It had ended, leaving Harry—among far too many others—bruised and weary and with an ache in his soul that just kept hurting. He and Ron and Hermione left the Headmaster’s office and trudged up to Gryffindor Tower to get away from the anguish that permeated the Great Hall. They perched on the edges of the boys’ beds, unbearably tired but unable to bring themselves to relax and rest.
They stared at each other with hollow eyes, Hermione leaning against Ron within the protective curve of his arm.
“You look awful, Harry. You need to get some sleep,” she said, gazing at him mournfully. Ron nodded.
Facing them, a united front at last, Harry sighed and murmured, “We all do.”
Ron nodded again and started to rise, saying, “We’ll let you rest—,” but panic flooded Harry at the thought of being alone, and he sprang to his feet, his hands outstretched.
“No!”
Ron fell back, and he and Hermione stared at Harry, bewildered.
Harry wrapped his arms around himself and whispered, “Please. I don’t want to be alone. Not yet.”
Hermione’s lips trembled and she looked at Ron, whose jaw was throbbing as he ground his teeth. As one, they stood and closed the distance between them and Harry, reaching out to draw him into their embrace. Harry clung to them with fierce desperation, and Ron mumbled against Harry’s shoulder, “You’re not alone, mate. It’s us. We’re always together.”
Harry’s shuddering sighs were dangerously close to becoming sobs, and Hermione rubbed his back to soothe him, gently saying, “Why don’t we get you out of here where you can get some peace and quiet. You deserve it.”
Harry croaked, “Where?”
Ron backed away and said, “Can’t you summon Kreacher and have him find out if Grimmauld Place is clear now that Voldemort is gone?”
Harry took a deep breath, nodding at the encouraging look Hermione gave him as she squeezed his upper arm. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s a good idea.”
Ron flashed a lopsided smile at him, clapping him on the shoulder. Harry stepped back, leaving Ron and Hermione with their arms around each other, and fervently hoped that the ancient house-elf hadn’t been one of the casualties as he said, “Kreacher, I summon you!”
They all nearly wilted in relief at the loud crack of Apparition when Kreacher appeared. “Master called?”
Harry collapsed to his knees and buried his face in his hands, grateful that the elf was alive and relatively unscathed, unlike poor Dobby. “I’m so glad you’re all right, Kreacher. Thank you for fighting.”
Kreacher thrust his chest forward and said, “Kreacher is a good house-elf! Kreacher will always help his Master. What does young Master need?”
Harry’s smile was weak but sincere. “Can you tell us if Grimmauld Place is safe now?”
Kreacher nodded, bowing low, then disappeared with a loud crack. All three of them were silent as they waited for him to return. Finally, after several long moments, Kreacher reappeared and announced, “All is clear, Master.”
Harry exhaled a long note of relief and looked up at his friends. “Well, there’s plenty of room at the house…”
Ron nodded sharply and said, “Why don’t you and Hermione head on over, and I’ll go tell Mum and Dad and McGonagall where we went.”
Hermione beamed up at him in gratitude and helped pull Harry to his feet. “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Ron. Come along, Harry.”
Kreacher said, “Master needs to eat and rest. Kreacher will have something ready soon.”
Harry leant into Hermione’s comforting arm around his shoulders and said, “Thanks, mate. And you, Kreacher. I reckon some hot chocolate would go down a treat.”
They all trekked out of the dorm again, Ron heading to the Great Hall and Hermione Apparating herself and Harry to Grimmauld Place. Ron joined them soon after, and they ate a simple meal in silence before climbing the stairs to the bedrooms.
Harry passed the smaller, individual rooms on his way to the master suite. It had nothing to do with him being the master of the house; he just wanted to find the biggest room with the biggest bed. When he paused on the threshold, casting freshening charms on the furniture and linens, he looked back at Ron and Hermione and said, “There’s enough room, isn’t there? Just… stay with me.”
Hermione’s lips spread in a gentle smile of reassurance and Ron nodded. They trooped into the room, and Harry headed straight for the bed, but stopped short before flopping down onto it. Glancing down at himself, he muttered, “I’m filthy. I should clean up before I lie down.”
Hermione perched on the dressing table chair and said, “Go ahead and shower. I’ll get something for you to change into. And then we can do the same.”
Ron was standing at her shoulder, one hand idly stroking her hair. “Go on, mate. We’ll be right out here. No worries.”
Harry nodded sharply, taking a deep breath as he strode into the spacious bathroom, pushing the door almost closed, but not latched. The shower washed all the dirt and grime away, leaving him feeling raw—and not just where he was cut and scratched and burned. The howling pain inside him welled up, and he allowed himself the luxury of sobbing his heartbreak into the cleansing spray, his tears mixing with the water to drip down his face.
He heard the door open and held his breath, listening hard, relieved when he heard Hermione saying, “It’s just me, Harry. I’ve put your pyjamas on the counter.”
He cleared his throat and croaked, “Thanks, Hermione.”
“It’s no trouble.” There was a pregnant pause, then she continued, “Is there anything else I can do?”
Harry couldn’t help but smile at the great surge of love and gratitude that helped mask the pain. “No, thanks, Hermione. I’ll be out soon.”
“All right then.” The acoustics in the bathroom changed again as she once again pulled the door to.
He composed himself and finished up, drying off and donning the old pyjamas that had been left behind when they had been forced to abandon Grimmauld Place. When he emerged, he found Ron and Hermione curled up on the floor together, leaning against the foot of the bed.
At Harry’s perplexed look, Ron said, “Didn’t want to get the bed dirty.” He turned to Hermione and patted her shoulder. “You should go next. I know girls take longer.”
Hermione grimaced at him, torn between being impressed at his offer and exasperated at the underlying sexism in his oblivious comment. Shaking her head, she smiled and said, “How thoughtful of you, Ron.”
He flashed a self-satisfied smile at her as she rose, then heaved to his feet to drag the chair from the dressing table to beside the bed. As the door to the bathroom closed, he gestured toward the bed and said, “What are you waiting for?”
Harry padded over and flung the covers back, letting the breath sough out of him as he lay down. His eyes closed for a beat, then they flew open again to look at Ron straddling the backwards chair with his arms crossed and resting on the chairback. His brow creasing in a worried scowl, Harry said, “It’s really over, right?”
Ron pursed his lips in an attempt to still their sudden trembling, and his eyes misted as he rasped, “Yeah. It’s over. You won.”
Harry curled forward and reached out to grip Ron’s arm. “We won. Not just me.”
They stared at each other in silence for a long moment, then Ron jerked his head in a brusque nod. His voice was a gravelly whisper as he said, “I just wish we hadn’t lost so much in order to win.”
The lump climbed into Harry’s throat again and he murmured, “I’m so sorry, Ron. Really, I am.”
Ron rubbed his sleeve against his eyes and sniffed. “I know. I don’t blame you. I just… miss Fred, y’know?”
Harry swallowed hard, his eyes smarting with hot tears. “I do. I miss him too.” His voice trailed off into a whisper as he said, almost to himself, “Him and so many others.” There was a heavy silence, then he continued, “Can I tell you something?”
Ron looked at him, instantly concerned. “Of course!”
Harry blinked several times, taking deep breaths, working out how best to say it. He flicked a glance at the bathroom door and said, “It hurts… so much… that so many people died—for me. I never wanted that! But, as awful as it sounds, and as horrible a person as it makes me… if they all had to die in order for you two to be alive… to me, it was worth it.”
His eyes begged for understanding as he met Ron’s gaze. Ron’s jaw twitched. In the silence after his confession, the click of the bathroom door opening sounded like a gunshot. Hermione slipped out quietly, drawing their attention. She gazed at them solemnly as she crossed to the bed, where she sank onto the edge by Harry’s knees. She looked between them and softly said, “I heard what you said, Harry.”
Both boys turned wide eyes to her, Harry’s wary and pleading, Ron’s shadowed with grief. She placed her hands in each of theirs. “I understand.” Holding Ron’s gaze, she said, “And I don’t think you’re a horrible person, Harry. You’ve lost more than both of us put together.” Ron closed his eyes and inclined his head, taking deep, steadying breaths. “But I can appreciate how you feel about us.” She released Ron’s hand and tenderly brushed his hair back, cupping his cheek, urging him to look at her. When he lifted his glassy eyes to meet hers, she continued, looking at Ron but speaking to Harry, “We love you, too, Harry.”
She and Ron exchanged a resolute look, and Ron reached out to clasp their joined hands. Then they both turned to look at Harry, who looked a little startled that they had included him in their expression of devotion. They all dropped their gaze to their tangled hands, then Ron squeezed once before pulling away, saying, “My turn in the shower.”
Both Harry and Hermione looked up at him, and he quirked a faint, weary smile. When he had disappeared into the bathroom, Harry turned to Hermione, gratitude overflowing like the tears that drowned the green of his eyes.
“Thanks again, Hermione. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
She pulled him into a hug and said, “Don’t worry about it, ‘cause you won’t have to.”
When she backed away, Harry sank back onto his elbows, and Hermione scrambled into the middle of the bed, leaning against the headboard. She plunked a pillow on her lap and patted it. Harry smiled and crawled closer, laying his head on the pillow and hugging her knees. Her hands rested on him, one rubbing his shoulder and the other playing with his hair. Harry felt himself start to relax, finally starting to feel safe.
He had fallen into a light doze when Ron emerged from the bathroom, but quickly sat up and squirmed back to the side of the bed, rubbing his face. Ron snorted as he leapt onto the bed, bouncing them all. “Ease up, mate. No worries, remember?”
Harry blinked blearily at them, and they both smiled. Hermione scooted further down the bed, shoving her feet under the covers. Gesturing at the boys to lie down properly, she flicked her wand at the lights and said, “Nox.”
Ron sprawled on one side and Harry sank back on the other side, framing Hermione in the middle of the large bed. Once they were settled, Harry yawned, then murmured, “Thanks…”
Ron’s voice was thick with his own yawn as he said, “No problem, now shut up already.”
Hermione tsked and added, “Go to sleep, Harry. Everything’s fine.”
Harry, warming up under the covers, felt himself being pulled back into oblivion, and the repeated surge of love and gratitude was his last conscious thought before he fell deeply asleep.
*****
A few hours later, Hermione woke to the feel of Ron pulling her tighter into his spooning embrace. His nose was nuzzling against the back of her neck, and he slowly ground his erection against her arse. She came fully awake with a gasp, freezing as she remembered where they were and what had happened. When she felt Ron’s lips grazing along the side of her throat, she stifled a moan.
Eyes opening wide in the darkness, she tried to see if Harry had woken up as well. It was too dark, so she slid her hand under her pillow to grip her wand, non-verbally casting Lumos and slipping the wandtip out from under the pillow. In the faint glow, she saw Harry curled up with his back to them, his breathing still deep and steady.
Ron looked too, and when he saw that Harry was fast asleep, he pressed his advantage and lifted up over Hermione, turning her in his arms. She met his heated gaze for a moment before he descended on her with a fierce kiss. Hermione squirmed onto her back, her hands roaming over his back as he shifted to press his hard cock against her leg and drag one hand up her side to cup her breast.
They lay there, snogging vehemently and grinding, flicking glances at Harry until they no longer cared, and Ron’s hand crept under her top to caress her breast and palm the stiff nipple. Hermione dipped her fingers beneath the waist of Ron’s pyjama bottoms, kneading his arse and undulating against his knee pressed between her legs. As if by unspoken accord, Ron slipped under Hermione’s waistband and stroked her damp curls at the same time she grazed her hand around his hip to grip his straining erection.
Their shocked cries were muffled by each other’s lips, but their eyes flew open to stare at each other in molten desire. Backing away, they panted shallowly, then Ron whispered, “I want you so much.”
Hermione exhaled a shuddering breath and retorted, “Don’t wake Harry.” She licked her lips and breathed, “Carefully now—get off the bed.”
Ron’s brow furrowed in confusion, but he complied, frowning when her soft hand released him. Hermione watched Harry as Ron backed out of the bed, but he never stirred. Then, slowly, she edged out as well, holding her breath until they were both standing there, waiting to see if he noticed their absence. After a long moment of silence, she turned to Ron and tilted her head toward the bathroom. Twining her fingers with his, she led him to tiptoe across the room and push the door almost closed behind them.
His breath tickled her ear as Ron whispered, “Why not shut it?”
Leaning her faintly lit wand against the mirror, Hermione hissed, “You heard how loud it was earlier. We just have to be quiet.”
Ron squinted at her in the dim light and said, “Be quiet doing what?”
Hermione pinned him with a scorching look and backed him against the counter, her hands tangling in his hair as she pulled him down for a kiss. He responded eagerly, wrapping his arms around her and gripping her arse as he guided her to one side, turning them so he had her trapped against the counter instead. Shifting his hands to grasp her waist, he lifted her enough that she sat on the countertop, her knees spreading to pull him closer as she wound her legs around his hips. Her embrace was crushingly tight as she pulled away from the kiss and buried her face against his neck, rasping, “I was so scared I’d lose you.”
Ron breathed, “Me too,” then lifted her face to look her in the eyes. “I was afraid something would happen and I’d never get the chance to tell you I love you.”
Hermione gazed at him adoringly and whispered, “I love you, Ron. I have for ages. And I’ve wanted this for so long now.”
Their lips met in another passionate kiss, and Hermione trailed her hands down his back and under his pyjama bottoms again, massaging his arse and pulling him tight against her cleft as she perched on the edge of the counter.
Ron kept one arm wrapped around her but let his other hand roam over her body, once again ending with his fingers slipping along her damp curls, eliciting gasps of pleasure from Hermione.
Suddenly, she let go of him and backed away, causing Ron to blink at her in alarm and step backward. But she simply wriggled out of her pyjama bottoms, shoving them down her legs and leaving her bare-arsed on the countertop.
Ron sucked in a ragged breath, his cock bouncing as he drank in the sight of her naked from the waist down, spreading her knees again as she beckoned for him to come back. He bounded forward again, his hands caressing her thighs as they snogged. Hermione fumbled with his clothing until she had one hand wrapped around his aching erection and the other arm around his neck, holding him close so she could whisper in his ear.
“Please… I want to feel alive. Ron, please… I love you.”
He turned to look in her eyes and she squeezed his cock, making him shudder. Incredulous, he choked, “Are you sure?”
Hermione nodded even as she kissed him, then breathed on his lips, “Make love to me, Ron.”
He groaned and shifted to shove his pyjama bottoms down, feeling them pool around his ankles. His cock sprang forward, twitching in excitement, and he gently stroked her curls, dipping one finger between her slick, swollen lips. She gasped in his ear and tilted her hips, spreading her legs further in encouragement.
The tip of his finger sank into her wet heat, and his thumb traced upward, sliding until he touched her throbbing clit. Her stifled moan sent a jolt of arousal through his body, ending in his bollocks. He thrust into her, adding a second finger, then spread her slippery juices over her heated flesh.
When he withdrew his fingers and licked his palm to coat his length with saliva, Hermione’s breath caught in anticipation. Closing in on her, he guided his cock toward her cunt, exhaling slowly as he sank in. Once the first couple of inches were safely inside her warm embrace, he gripped her hips and tugged her forward, tilting her back so she was barely resting on the counter, her arse hanging over the edge. She locked her legs around his waist and wrapped her arms around his neck as he pressed forward with agonizing slowness until he was fully immersed in her clutching depths.
Hermione’s eyes rolled back and she heaved a deep sigh of satisfaction. Ron tilted his hips, grinding into her, and she gasped. With one hand, Ron unbuttoned her pyjama top to cup her breasts and tease her nipples as they rocked in a languid rhythm.
*****
Harry woke with a start. Something had woken him, and he strained to see and hear in the darkness. He heard faint sounds of breathing in the bathroom and carefully rolled over, his questing hand finding nothing but empty bed beside him. A flash of panic—Don’t leave me alone!—made him sit up, throwing the covers back and snatching his wand from under his pillow.
Eyes wide, trying to see any movement in the bedroom, Harry gingerly slid off the edge of the bed and tiptoed toward the bathroom, from which a sliver of dim light shone along the narrow opening of the door. The sounds of breathing grew more discernible, as did the rustling of clothing, of skin rubbing on skin. Edging up to the door, he peered in, holding his breath.
Hermione was wrapped around Ron, her head thrown back as he fucked her, rocking her at the edge of the bathroom counter. Hermione had opened Ron’s pyjama top and shoved it off his shoulders and down his arms, where it bunched and hung around his elbows. Hermione’s top was rumpled in a heap behind her, halfway in the sink to one side, and her breasts bounced with every thrust.
Harry slowly released the air trapped in his lungs, relief that he wasn’t alone, and that they were apparently in no danger, washing over him like a bucket of cold water. Immediately after that, a wave of heat followed, and he bit his lip to hold back the moan of fascination that threatened to expose him as a voyeur.
He stood there, mesmerized by the play of muscles in Ron’s freckled shoulders and chest, the dance of soft light and shadow over Hermione’s smooth skin and blissful expression. He smiled at the realization that the two people he loved most had finally come together the way they should have long ago.
Ron’s legs couldn’t stay in the same position much longer, so he pulled Hermione closer and whispered, “Hang on a tick… I need to move.”
Hermione unlocked her legs from around his hips and leant back on her elbows as his cock withdrew from her completely. He stepped out of his pyjama bottoms, let his pyjama top fall to the floor, and circled around the side of the counter, lifting one foot to settle on the toilet lid and steadying himself with one hand against the wall. He beckoned to Hermione and she grinned, spinning ninety degrees to the side and raising one foot to rest on his shoulder as she lay back along the counter and scooted her arse over the edge again.
Ron grinned back at her as he gripped her thigh and tilted forward, sinking into her again and making her arch in a silent squeal.
From Harry’s vantage point, he could see the top of Hermione’s head, down her slender body to the junction where Ron’s bright red curls meshed with her dark brown bush on every stroke. Ron was facing Harry’s direction, and Harry could watch the rippling muscles down his pale chest and belly as well as the ever-shifting expressions of pleasure on his face.
Hermione kept undulating against Ron, her breathing uneven. Ron increased the pace and force of his thrusts, and one particularly hard one was met with just the right angle of Hermione’s writhing hips, eliciting a short cry. Ron’s eyes widened, and he flicked a glance at the door.
Harry was rooted to the spot, and he couldn’t even react when he realized that Ron could see him watching them through the cracked door. Ron’s eyes locked with his and he swallowed hard, but he didn’t stop plunging deep into Hermione, making wet, rhythmic, smacking noises.
There was a long, charged moment, then Ron nodded slowly at Harry before whispering, “Hermione, I want to feel you come on my cock.”
Harry’s eyes closed with the tingle that raced over him at Ron’s words. He swallowed and opened his eyes again to see Hermione trailing one hand down her belly to circle her clit. Ron tore his gaze from Harry to look down at the erotic sight, cursing under his breath. When he looked back at Harry, his blue eyes were almost black with lust.
Harry nodded encouragement, and Ron pistoned faster as he panted, “Yeah, Hermione, come on my cock. I wanna’ feel it. Fuck, you’re so wet…”
Hermione was panting too, and her fingers were dancing over her clit. Her other hand crept up to fist in her hair, her mouth open as her head canted back, and her eyes screwed shut. Ron looked down at her as she crested her peak, flashing a triumphant grin at Harry as she shuddered and convulsed in climax.
Ron locked eyes with Harry again, pounding hard to draw out her orgasm. When she relaxed, gasping, his eyes blazed at Harry as he backed away enough to stroke himself. His fist was pumping feverishly on his cock, and he licked his lips just before his eyes closed and he bucked, his face contorted in a rictus of ecstasy as he came, spurting ropes of creamy liquid all over Hermione’s mound and belly.
When he opened his eyes again, breathing heavily, he instantly checked to see if Harry was still watching. A deliciously sated smirk spread his lips and he rasped, “Fuck, that was brilliant!”
Hermione chuckled in agreement, reaching down to caress his fingers where they were wrapped around her thigh. “I love you.”
Ron smiled and pressed a kiss to her leg where it was propped on his shoulder. “I love you.” He continued kissing down her leg, flicking smug glances at Harry, until he sank onto the toilet lid and leant down, burying his tongue in Hermione’s cunt, making her writhe in pleasure. Licking and suckling on her glistening flesh, his mischievous eyes barely visible above her mound, he held Harry’s fascinated gaze.
Hermione was quickly becoming aroused again, and Ron lifted his damp face from her pussy enough to sink two fingers into her, fucking her with them. She clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle the moans that she couldn’t stop. Ron bent down and sucked her clit between his lips, cocking one eyebrow at Harry as she thrashed and flailed.
Ron continued his carnal assault until he could feel her cunt tightening around his fingers, then he winked at Harry as he hummed encouragement. The vibrations of his voice against her sensitive spot, coupled with the pressure of his fingers inside her, sent Hermione over the edge into another shuddering orgasm.
When she quieted again, Ron released her and sat back, murmuring, “You taste so fucking good…”
Hermione sighed in repletion and whispered, “I promise I’ll return the favour soon.”
Ron snorted faintly and grinned. “I promise I’ll let you.”
They both laughed silently, then Ron cast a meaningful look at Harry and whispered, “Why don’t we get cleaned up and get some sleep? I don’t know about you, but I feel pretty relaxed.”
Harry jerked back from the doorway and scrambled back to the bed, taking care to gently climb back in, hoping the mattress wouldn’t squeak. He had burrowed back under the covers, heart pounding, when the bathroom door slowly opened. Shutting his eyes and feigning sleep, he listened as Ron and Hermione crept back to bed, carefully slipping under the covers and settling beside him.
He lay there, trying to regulate his breathing, and heard them kiss before lying still. After a long while, he heard Ron’s faint snoring and Hermione’s steady breathing, and he relaxed again, relieved that he hadn’t been caught—well, by Hermione, at least.
It took a long time for Harry to fall asleep again. He couldn’t stop replaying what he had seen—Hermione’s smooth curves and sensuous movements, Ron’s lean muscles and intense gaze—and while it did make him fairly hard, it was the feelings in his heart that interested him more than just the feelings in his trousers.
May 3, 1998
The next morning, Harry was up before either of the other two, having been roused from his fitful sleep by nightmarish flashbacks of the battle. His shallow, racing breathing slowed as soon as he looked over at his sleeping mates—he wasn’t alone. Quietly, he slipped out of the bed, got dressed, and headed down to the kitchen to look into breakfast.
Ron woke next, a slow smirk spreading his lips at the memories that assailed him of his middle-of-the-night liaison. Yawning and stretching, he glanced over to see Harry’s space in the bed empty, and an amused yet relieved expression took up residence after his yawn. He edged out of bed, trying not to disturb Hermione, and got dressed. Before he left, he crept onto the bed again and kissed Hermione to wake her.
“Hermione, sleep as long as you like. I just wanted to let you know Harry and I were up and about. If I’m gone when you get up, don’t worry. I’ll be back soon. Love you.”
Hermione sighed and blinked blearily at him, smiling as she mumbled, “Mmm, ‘kay. Love you…” She rolled over and burrowed more comfortably under the covers, and Ron shook his head, flashing a fond grin.
Harry was at the kitchen table, eating porridge and reading the Daily Prophet when Ron loped in and sat across from him. He looked up, wary and startled, scrabbling for his wand, then relaxed immediately when he saw it was him. Harry’s smile of greeting was tempered by his awkward flushing, remembering his voyeuristic antics.
Ron nodded, one corner of his mouth quirked up in a knowing smirk, and took the steaming bowl of porridge from Kreacher with a cheerful, “Thanks, Kreacher.” As he spooned sweetener into it, he drawled, “How are you feeling this morning? Did you sleep okay?”
Harry swallowed nervously, unable to meet Ron’s knowing gaze. Playing with a corner of the newspaper, he said, “Uh, yeah, I guess. I had some nightmares this morning, so I just got up.”
Ron’s smirk vanished, his brow furrowing with a look of concern. “Are you all right?”
Harry shrugged, shredding the corner of the paper. Suddenly, his anxious movement was stilled by Ron’s hand covering his, gripping it and stroking his thumb along Harry’s skin in a soothing manner. Harry snapped his gaze up to Ron, green eyes meeting blue.
Ron’s expression was full of compassion as he said, “It’s okay. It’s all over. We’re here with you, and we’re not going anywhere.”
The knot of tension in Harry’s belly loosened, and he heaved a sigh of relief, closing his eyes for a beat before offering Ron a shaky smile. Ron beamed back at him, squeezing his hand before returning his attention to his porridge.
Harry looked down at the paper, his brow furrowing again at the headlines detailing all the carnage and destruction of the day before, and Ron, deciding not to tease Harry—it really wasn’t the moment for that—mumbled around a mouthful of porridge, “I’m gonna’ go to the Burrow after breakfast and check on everyone.”
Harry nodded, the stabbing pain of loss and guilt making him unable to meet Ron’s eyes. He knew as well as Ron did that “everyone” mostly meant “George.” Gut roiling, Harry stammered, “I-I want t-to… know, but… I don’t think I can… go…”
Ron gripped Harry’s hand again and said, “I wasn’t expecting you to, mate. You need to stay here, away from the chaos, so you can work on healing yourself. As much as I love my family, I don’t know that I could stay there long—in that atmosphere. Besides, you need me, too. Like we said, we’re in this together, the three of us. That’s why I’m going: to tell them that I’m staying with you but I wanted to see how they’re holding up.”
Harry’s eyes misted as the intense feeling of love and gratitude welled up. Throat tight, he managed a whispered, “Thanks.”
Ron squeezed Harry’s hand again before finishing his porridge and pouring a tall glass of pumpkin juice. Harry was staring at the list of those who had died the day before, his gaze lingering over Lupin’s and Tonks’s names, when Hermione entered the kitchen.
“Morning!” She went first to Harry and gave him a hug, dropping a kiss on his head, then rounded the table to sit by Ron, ducking to give him a chaste kiss on the lips before sinking into the chair and caressing his thigh as she reached for the pumpkin juice with her other hand. Once she was seated, and had her breakfast in front of her, she looked at Harry and said, her voice full of concern, “Apparently you were up first… is everything all right? How are you feeling?”
Harry shrugged, keeping his face averted to hide his blushing cheeks. “I had some nightmares that woke me, so I just got up instead of trying to go back to sleep or taking the chance of waking you two. I’m okay now.”
Hermione flicked an anxious glance at Ron and he nodded, indicating that things were as fine as they could be under the circumstances. Hermione relaxed and began eating her toast as Ron gulped the last of his juice and stood.
“All right, I’m off. I doubt I’ll be gone long.”
Hermione peered up at him and clasped his hand. “Where are you going?”
“The Burrow.”
Her face fell. “Oh, of course. Should we go with you?”
Ron met Harry’s gaze and said, “No, you two stay here. It’s… it’s a family thing for now; you understand.”
Harry heaved a silent sigh of relief as Hermione said, “Of course. Well, give them our love.”
“Will do.” Ron bent down to kiss Hermione, then strode to the fireplace to use the Floo.
When he was gone, Hermione appraised Harry again, then said, “Here, why don’t you give me that. You shouldn’t torture yourself by dwelling on things you can’t change.”
Harry sat back in his chair, allowing Hermione to tug the paper from him. He scrubbed his face with his hands and said, “I don’t know how I can face all the funerals…”
Hermione made a faint noise of sympathy and immediately got up to round the table again, stopping beside him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Don’t think about that right now. You have to focus on you.”
Harry snorted. “That’s what Ron said.”
Hermione voiced a low chuckle and murmured, “Well, he was right.”
“What happens now? I mean, it’s finally over, but there’s so much that’s been destroyed. What do we do now?”
Hermione sat in the chair beside him and gripped his hand. “We live, Harry. We move ahead into the future that waits for us. We clean up what needs to be cleaned up, remember those who died fighting for this new reality, and honour them by learning to enjoy life and love again.”
Harry looked into her earnest brown eyes and felt warmed by the love he saw there. He twisted and enveloped her in a tight hug, his breath shaky as he whispered, “I’m so glad you and Ron are safe. I love you both so much.”
Hermione soothed him, murmuring, “We know. And we love you too. We’ll get through this, Harry. Together.”
He nodded and released her, letting her drag her breakfast across the table so she could remain beside him.
After she had eaten a bit more, she said, “To be more specific, in answer to your question… I plan to go to the Ministry to talk to the Magical Reversal Squad about whether it’s possible to repair my parents’ memories and bring them back from Australia.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “Hermione, that’s brilliant! I’m sure they can help.”
Her smile was watery, but she said, “I hope so. But if not, I at least want to make sure they’re all right.”
She wiped her mouth with a napkin and pushed her plate away before sitting back in her chair, looking pensive. Harry said, “What are you waiting for? You’re finished eating, right?”
Hermione snapped her gaze to his and said, “Ron’s not back yet!”
“Are you going to take him with you?”
Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head. “No. But I’m not about to leave you here alone. When he gets back, I’ll go then.”
Harry blinked, the realization at how seriously they took staying with him once again sparking a surge of relief and love.
Hermione looked at him and smiled gently. “So, why don’t we do something fun? Take your mind off… things.”
Harry shrugged and said, “Sure. What?”
“How about some Exploding Snap?” She stood and proffered her hand.
Harry clasped her hand and rose, too, and they went upstairs to settle on the library floor with the game.
A little over an hour after he left, Ron returned; Harry and Hermione heard his muffled call, “I’m back!” They heaved to their feet and dashed to meet him at the top of the kitchen stairs. His face was drawn, and he moved wearily. Hermione immediately threw her arms around his neck.
Harry watched them hugging, his gut roiling with tension. Ron opened his eyes and saw Harry watching them again. With one hand, Ron reached out, inviting Harry into the embrace. Harry exhaled in relief, his gut calming, as he stepped into Ron’s arm, wrapping one arm around Ron’s shoulders and one around Hermione’s.
Hermione’s voice was muffled against Ron’s chest as she said, “Are you all right?”
Ron sighed, squeezing them both before backing away. Hermione’s anxious eyes were trained on his face as he said, “Yeah. I’m glad to be back. It’s… pretty awful over there.”
As one, they moved into the library again, Ron murmuring, “George is holed up in his room, dosed up with some sedative potions. Mum is practically stuck to Ginny. Bill and Charlie have joined with the Ministry people working on clean-up at the school. Percy is helping Dad and the others at the Ministry itself, clearing up after the Death Eater infiltration. Mum did tell me that there had already been discussion about having concurrent funerals.”
At that, Harry winced, and Hermione flicked a glance at him, squeezing his hand.
Ron continued, “Mum also said that Kingsley is personally attending to each and every department, making sure things are going the way they’re supposed to. He’s been flitting from one group to the next non-stop since yesterday.” He looked at Hermione. “So, if you want to get folks working on retrieving your parents, I reckon you better get over there fast before they get too long a list of other things to do first.”
Hermione bit her lower lip in anxiety. She glanced back at Harry, and he said, “Well, go on. Ron’s back, so you don’t need to stick around any longer.”
“Are you sure?” Her brow furrowed with worry as she looked back and forth between them.
Both boys nodded, and Ron said, “Hermione, go. We’ve got things under control here.”
Nodding, she darted forward and hugged them, saying, “Hopefully, I won’t be long,” before hastening down to the Floo.
Left in the silence of the library, Ron sank back onto the couch, closed his eyes, and scrubbed his face. Harry summoned Kreacher and quietly requested some Firewhisky. The elf returned with a dusty bottle and two tumblers, bowing low in response to Harry’s thanks.
Harry poured a liberal amount into each glass and held one out to Ron, clearing his throat to get his attention. Ron blinked at him in a mixture of surprise and gratitude, took the glass, and held it aloft, saying, “To absent friends.”
Harry mumbled the toast and touched glasses before downing a large gulp, gasping at the searing burn as it made its way to his belly.
Ron coughed, eyes tearing at the intensity of the alcohol, then croaked, “I always thought that was such a trite thing to say… but I guess it really does mean something after all.” He took another swallow, then said, “Thanks, mate. It does help.”
Harry shrugged. “I didn’t know what else to do, and I don’t think we have any potions in the house.”
Ron snorted, reminded of George in his potion-induced haze. Then, he shook his head violently and took a deep breath. “So, what were you two doing while I was gone?”
Harry gestured to the game on the floor. “Hermione said we should do something fun to take our minds off things.”
Ron smiled. “She would. ‘S a good idea—same thing with this stuff.” He lifted the Firewhisky. “Right then, let’s think about something fun…” He closed his eyes for a beat, then opened them and pinned Harry with a smug, amused look. “Last night was pretty fun, wouldn’t you say?”
Harry blushed, averting his gaze from Ron’s wicked blue eyes. “I-I’m sorry about that…”
Ron laughed and said, “Don’t be sorry! If I’d had a problem with it, I’d have done something about it then, yeah?”
Harry glanced up at him, incredulous. “You didn’t tell Hermione, did you? I reckon she might feel a bit differently.”
Ron grimaced and took another sip of Firewhisky. “Nah, she doesn’t know.” There was a pause, then he added, “Did you wish it was you?”
“What?”
Ron regarded him with narrowed eyes. “With Hermione, like that. Or with me like that, for that matter.”
Harry’s eyes flew open wide, and he could only gape helplessly at his best friend. Unable to answer, he gulped more alcohol, coughing at the burn.
Ron tossed his head. “I mean, I know you and Ginny—”
Harry cut him off. “Ginny and I never did that!”
Ron nodded. “I know that. I meant, I didn’t know if you wanted Hermione like that, since… y’know… Ginny.”
Harry blinked. “I love Ginny. But… not like you two. The three of us have been through too much that she can’t ever understand like you two can. Besides, she’s still got to finish school, and I… I don’t know if I could even be with her right now. Everything is too raw. You guys keep saying it: I need to get better first…” and he ducked his head as he continued in a whisper, “…and I need you two for that.”
“I know what you mean.”
At that, Harry looked back up in surprise. Brow furrowed, he said, “What do you mean by that?”
Ron eyed Harry speculatively, took another drink, and said, “I mean that as amazing as finally being with Hermione was last night, it was better with you watching.”
Harry’s mouth went dry.
Ron continued, “I guess I need you both too. At least, until I can get whole on my own. I’m pretty sure that Hermione feels the same way. I just didn’t want to freak her out, since it was our first time together, but I wish I could’ve invited you in.”
Harry’s gut fluttered, and he swallowed hard. His voice was cautious as he said, “I didn’t think you were into blokes.”
Ron snorted, tossed back the last of his Firewhisky, and smirked lopsidedly at Harry. “I’m not. But you’re not a bloke. You’re just Harry!”
Harry couldn’t help but return the smile. Somehow, Ron had managed to put into words the exact thing Harry had been feeling the night before as he lay in the dark and pondered what he had seen and felt. Clearing his throat, he said, “So, you reckon you’re gonna’ say anything to Hermione about all this?”
Ron frowned in thought, then sniffed. “Some time. I mean, I’m done keeping things bottled up—that’s how that damned horcrux nearly got me. And, we know how short and precarious life can be… So, yeah, I don’t know when, but it’s bound to come out at some point.”
Harry snorted at the inadvertent pun and drained his glass of Firewhisky, reflecting on the pleasant lassitude that was extending through his body, numbing the ache at the reminder of everyone they’d lost. He spun from his sideways perch beside Ron to sink back onto the couch next to him, smiling when Ron flung his arm around Harry’s shoulder and squeezed his arm. They propped their feet on the low table in front of them and squirmed until they were comfortably ensconced, Harry’s head leaning against Ron’s bicep and Ron’s cheek pillowed on Harry’s untidy hair.
After a long moment of companionable silence, Ron murmured, “Got any more of that?”
Harry Summoned the bottle and tumblers and poured the remaining alcohol into their glasses. He dropped the empty bottle onto the floor and held up his glass. Ron clinked his glass against Harry’s and said, “Time for another toast.”
“Like what?” Harry snuggled a little lower and turned his head enough that he could hear Ron’s heartbeat.
Ron tousled Harry’s hair with a lazy movement and said, “How about, ‘To love’?”
Harry smiled and added, “It’s what got us through this war; it’s why we won. I like it. To love!”
They downed the rest of the Firewhisky, even though it took several swallows to get through it. Once they were finished with their coughing fits, Harry twisted to look up at Ron and said, “Everything’s gonna’ be okay, innit?”
Ron gazed down at Harry’s upturned face and felt the warmth of the alcohol mixing with the warmth of being safe and comfortable with Harry, away from the anguish elsewhere. Quirking a lopsided smile, he whispered, “Yeah, mate. We’re all gonna’ be brilliant,” then bent his head to press a Firewhisky-laced kiss to Harry’s lips.
Harry froze, his reactions slowed by the alcohol-induced haze. Still, he found himself opening his lips to Ron’s tentative tongue. Tingles streaked through him, and he felt surrounded with warmth and comfort. Harry shifted enough to allow their snog to progress more easily, so his neck wasn’t twisted awkwardly. His movement spurred Ron to twist toward Harry, lifting his far hand to cup Harry’s jaw and hold him in place for Ron’s languid kisses.
The weight that seemed to rest on Harry’s shoulders felt lighter, and his heartache eased under the tender onslaught. His hand gripped Ron’s leg just above the knee, but as their snogging continued, his hand slid higher until his wrist bumped against Ron’s erection. At that, Harry’s roaming hand stopped, but he stroked Ron’s thigh, his fingertips tracing circles and massaging the crease of Ron’s leg.
Blissfully fuzzy and relaxed from the Firewhisky, the two boys lost themselves in pleasurable sensations. They were so oblivious to the world that they never heard Hermione approaching the library.
Hermione paused on the threshold, too stunned to even voice her surprise. Eyes wide, mouth open, she stared unblinkingly at the scene, taking in the empty bottle of Firewhisky, their empty glasses, and the slow, sweet nature of the two boys’ intimate embrace. As unprepared as she was for such a sight, she was less prepared for the stab of heat that raced over her, leaving goose bumps on her skin, ending with a throb in her centre.
Sucking in a steadying breath, she backed away from the doorway, edging to one side and across the corridor so that she could watch without being seen. Her pulse was racing from the shock, but, the longer she watched them together, the more it raced in joyful recognition.
She would have been terribly hurt if she had come upon Ron snogging anyone else this way, seeing it as a betrayal of their relationship. But, Harry… He wasn’t anyone else; he’s Harry. The three of them had a bond like no one else she had ever heard of, after all they had gone through together. It seemed only logical that their love for each other should be expressed this way.
Still, she didn’t know how they would react to her catching them in the act, so she waited and watched, feeling her face warming in response. After several long minutes, the slow kisses stopped, and Ron pressed his forehead against Harry’s, heaving a deep sigh of contentment. Hermione barely heard his whisper as he said, “Wish Hermione was here…”
Harry’s faint, “Me too,” made Ron smile and Hermione’s breath catch. Ron let go of Harry’s jaw and lifted his head, guiding Harry’s head back to its previous position cradled against Ron’s chest.
The pose was peaceful, and Hermione realized it was safe to “come home” now. She tiptoed back down the corridor, descended a few steps before turning around again, and called, “I’m home!”
She heard the boys’ pleased cries, and by the time she had strode down the corridor again, they were both at the library door, to welcome her back.
Ron pulled her into a hug and said, “Well, what’d you find out?”
Harry’s eyes lit up with hope at her tentative smile. “I got to speak to the Squad, and I even saw Kingsley—he says to send his regards. I’m on the list of tasks, but it’ll still probably be a few weeks before they can even begin looking into things.”
Ron dragged her to the couch where he had so recently been snogging Harry and guided her to sit in the middle, so he and Harry could sit on either side of her. She bent to move one of the tumblers out of the way, casting a querying glance at them.
Harry flushed and said, “Sorry. It wasn’t a full bottle to begin with, but we should have left some for you too.”
Hermione shrugged. “It’s okay. If you needed something to take the edge off, I can’t say I blame you. But I am glad I didn’t come back to find you pissed.”
Ron beamed at her and said, “A little tipsy, perhaps, but hardly soused. I have full control over my faculties, thank you very much.”
Harry snapped his gaze to Ron and found him pinning him with a meaningful look. He flashed a smile and looked away, not noticing Hermione’s pink cheeks and quickened breathing.
Hermione murmured faintly, “Perhaps we should take stock and place an order for supplies—including more Firewhisky if you want to keep some around.”
Ron nodded. “Good idea. Let’s go.” Shooting to his feet, he proffered a hand to each of them, pulling them to their feet and dragging them behind him as he headed back to the kitchen. When they reached the library door, Harry and Hermione—both with their hands in Ron’s iron grip—knocked against each other, forming a scrum in the doorway and making Ron jerk to a stop as they sorted themselves out.
By the time Hermione disentangled herself from Harry, noticing how nice his body felt against hers, everyone was laughing. Glad of the excuse for her flushed cheeks, Hermione continued jostling the boys as they romped their way along the corridor and down into the kitchen. The roughhousing gave her another reason to touch them and be close to them, without revealing that she had been a voyeur to their earlier intimacy.
Later that night, when it was time for bed, they once again took turns bathing. While Hermione was in the shower, Ron grinned and whispered to Harry, “Want a replay of last night?”
Harry’s eyes widened even as he shivered at the memory. He hissed back, “What do you mean?”
Ron leant closer and breathed, “I’ll make sure to shake the bed enough to wake you, just don’t act like you’re awake. Then you can watch us again.”
“Do you really think we should do that?”
“Don’t you want to?”
Harry swallowed hard and flicked a guilty glance at the bathroom door. “Well...” He trailed off, then was surprised when Ron surged forward and kissed him, gripping the back of his neck.
“Please, Harry? It’s so much better when you’re a part of it.”
Harry could only stare mutely at Ron, who sank back onto the bed, away from Harry as they heard the water stop. A couple of minutes later, Hermione emerged from the bathroom and smiled at Ron as he passed her on his way in.
As she clambered into the middle of the bed again, Hermione said, “I hope you’ll sleep better tonight. It was nice to finally have a peaceful day like today, wasn’t it?”
Harry smiled at her, then frowned anxiously. Hermione instantly knelt closer to him and clasped his hand, saying, “What’s wrong?”
Harry closed his eyes, feeling his face warm as he struggled to find the right words. “I was just wondering… what you think… someone… should do… if they saw something… personal…”
Hermione froze, going pale in shock. In an aghast whisper, she said, “How did you know? I thought you couldn’t see me!”
Harry’s brows shot up to his hairline as he met her mortified gaze. “What?”
Hermione shook her head and gripped his hands, her expression imploring. “I didn’t mean to spy—not at first! I just… never expected to see you two like that. But then I realized how perfect it was…”
It all came together, and Harry rasped, “How much did you see?”
Hermione whispered, “I saw you kissing, and… and it was so gentle… and sweet.”
Heart pounding, Harry said, “And you didn’t mind?”
Hermione lifted a hand to Harry’s cheek and said, “I was shocked, but it makes sense. After all we’ve been through, I know you must’ve bonded with Ron as much as I have.”
Harry covered her hand with his hand where it lay against his cheek and whispered, “It’s not just me and Ron, or you and Ron. It’s all of us. You know that, right? We can’t say it enough: we’re all in this together.”
Hermione nodded, biting her lower lip. Harry lifted his other hand, releasing her bitten lip with his thumb and leaning into her palm. Then, meeting her dilated eyes, he leant forward and kissed her, taking a moment to suckle her lower lip in an attempt to soothe it. Hermione sighed and kissed him back, until they heard the water stop again, and they backed away with a start, casting guilty glances at the bathroom door.
Harry smiled shakily and said, “I don’t know why we stopped. It’s not like it would bother him.”
Hermione let out a shuddery breath and whispered, “Not right now, Harry. It’s all just so new… Soon.”
Harry nodded and settled under the covers as Ron came out of the bathroom. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get some sleep—and we didn’t even do much today!”
Hermione, rebuilding her composure, said, “Well, we do have a lot to make up for, and we deserve a rest, so just take it when you can get it.”
Ron grinned and flopped into the bed, leaning over to kiss her before dousing the light. “Trust me; I will.” At Harry’s snort and Hermione’s exasperated huff, he chuckled. “Sweet dreams, mates!”
Harry and Hermione chorused, “G’night,” and they all settled down for the night.
***end part one***
Part 2
Author: Good_Witch aka
pern_dragonPrompt Number: 164, submitted by
softobsidian74, plus more inspiration from 333, submitted by mistress_ashleyKink Showcased: voyeurism/exhibitionism, double penetration
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): HP/HG, HG/RW, RW/HP, HP/RW/HG
Summary: After years of relying on each other to survive, now the Trio must rely on each other to live.
Warnings: (highlight for details): *voyeurism/exhibitionism, double penetration, threesome, rimming*
Word Count: 18,100+
Author's Notes: This fic was supposed to be a PWP romp, but when I got the bright idea to make it canon-compliant and pick up at the end of the last chapter of the last book (before the Epilogue of Doom ™), all of that got crushed under the heavy emotions that avalanched down in the aftermath of war. So, we ended up with this much-longer-than-anticipated fic. I hope the smut manages to make up for the heaviness and pain, and that you enjoy it, even though I’d bet dollars to doughnuts that something like this was the furthest thing from your mind when you wrote your prompts. Thanks to
nannycrafts, gelsey, snapeybears, and darkcelestial20 for beta and feedback. Any and all remaining mistakes are my own problems and in no way reflect on those lovely ladies. Watch, Feel, Love, Heal
May 2, 1998
The war was finally over.
It had ended, leaving Harry—among far too many others—bruised and weary and with an ache in his soul that just kept hurting. He and Ron and Hermione left the Headmaster’s office and trudged up to Gryffindor Tower to get away from the anguish that permeated the Great Hall. They perched on the edges of the boys’ beds, unbearably tired but unable to bring themselves to relax and rest.
They stared at each other with hollow eyes, Hermione leaning against Ron within the protective curve of his arm.
“You look awful, Harry. You need to get some sleep,” she said, gazing at him mournfully. Ron nodded.
Facing them, a united front at last, Harry sighed and murmured, “We all do.”
Ron nodded again and started to rise, saying, “We’ll let you rest—,” but panic flooded Harry at the thought of being alone, and he sprang to his feet, his hands outstretched.
“No!”
Ron fell back, and he and Hermione stared at Harry, bewildered.
Harry wrapped his arms around himself and whispered, “Please. I don’t want to be alone. Not yet.”
Hermione’s lips trembled and she looked at Ron, whose jaw was throbbing as he ground his teeth. As one, they stood and closed the distance between them and Harry, reaching out to draw him into their embrace. Harry clung to them with fierce desperation, and Ron mumbled against Harry’s shoulder, “You’re not alone, mate. It’s us. We’re always together.”
Harry’s shuddering sighs were dangerously close to becoming sobs, and Hermione rubbed his back to soothe him, gently saying, “Why don’t we get you out of here where you can get some peace and quiet. You deserve it.”
Harry croaked, “Where?”
Ron backed away and said, “Can’t you summon Kreacher and have him find out if Grimmauld Place is clear now that Voldemort is gone?”
Harry took a deep breath, nodding at the encouraging look Hermione gave him as she squeezed his upper arm. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s a good idea.”
Ron flashed a lopsided smile at him, clapping him on the shoulder. Harry stepped back, leaving Ron and Hermione with their arms around each other, and fervently hoped that the ancient house-elf hadn’t been one of the casualties as he said, “Kreacher, I summon you!”
They all nearly wilted in relief at the loud crack of Apparition when Kreacher appeared. “Master called?”
Harry collapsed to his knees and buried his face in his hands, grateful that the elf was alive and relatively unscathed, unlike poor Dobby. “I’m so glad you’re all right, Kreacher. Thank you for fighting.”
Kreacher thrust his chest forward and said, “Kreacher is a good house-elf! Kreacher will always help his Master. What does young Master need?”
Harry’s smile was weak but sincere. “Can you tell us if Grimmauld Place is safe now?”
Kreacher nodded, bowing low, then disappeared with a loud crack. All three of them were silent as they waited for him to return. Finally, after several long moments, Kreacher reappeared and announced, “All is clear, Master.”
Harry exhaled a long note of relief and looked up at his friends. “Well, there’s plenty of room at the house…”
Ron nodded sharply and said, “Why don’t you and Hermione head on over, and I’ll go tell Mum and Dad and McGonagall where we went.”
Hermione beamed up at him in gratitude and helped pull Harry to his feet. “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Ron. Come along, Harry.”
Kreacher said, “Master needs to eat and rest. Kreacher will have something ready soon.”
Harry leant into Hermione’s comforting arm around his shoulders and said, “Thanks, mate. And you, Kreacher. I reckon some hot chocolate would go down a treat.”
They all trekked out of the dorm again, Ron heading to the Great Hall and Hermione Apparating herself and Harry to Grimmauld Place. Ron joined them soon after, and they ate a simple meal in silence before climbing the stairs to the bedrooms.
Harry passed the smaller, individual rooms on his way to the master suite. It had nothing to do with him being the master of the house; he just wanted to find the biggest room with the biggest bed. When he paused on the threshold, casting freshening charms on the furniture and linens, he looked back at Ron and Hermione and said, “There’s enough room, isn’t there? Just… stay with me.”
Hermione’s lips spread in a gentle smile of reassurance and Ron nodded. They trooped into the room, and Harry headed straight for the bed, but stopped short before flopping down onto it. Glancing down at himself, he muttered, “I’m filthy. I should clean up before I lie down.”
Hermione perched on the dressing table chair and said, “Go ahead and shower. I’ll get something for you to change into. And then we can do the same.”
Ron was standing at her shoulder, one hand idly stroking her hair. “Go on, mate. We’ll be right out here. No worries.”
Harry nodded sharply, taking a deep breath as he strode into the spacious bathroom, pushing the door almost closed, but not latched. The shower washed all the dirt and grime away, leaving him feeling raw—and not just where he was cut and scratched and burned. The howling pain inside him welled up, and he allowed himself the luxury of sobbing his heartbreak into the cleansing spray, his tears mixing with the water to drip down his face.
He heard the door open and held his breath, listening hard, relieved when he heard Hermione saying, “It’s just me, Harry. I’ve put your pyjamas on the counter.”
He cleared his throat and croaked, “Thanks, Hermione.”
“It’s no trouble.” There was a pregnant pause, then she continued, “Is there anything else I can do?”
Harry couldn’t help but smile at the great surge of love and gratitude that helped mask the pain. “No, thanks, Hermione. I’ll be out soon.”
“All right then.” The acoustics in the bathroom changed again as she once again pulled the door to.
He composed himself and finished up, drying off and donning the old pyjamas that had been left behind when they had been forced to abandon Grimmauld Place. When he emerged, he found Ron and Hermione curled up on the floor together, leaning against the foot of the bed.
At Harry’s perplexed look, Ron said, “Didn’t want to get the bed dirty.” He turned to Hermione and patted her shoulder. “You should go next. I know girls take longer.”
Hermione grimaced at him, torn between being impressed at his offer and exasperated at the underlying sexism in his oblivious comment. Shaking her head, she smiled and said, “How thoughtful of you, Ron.”
He flashed a self-satisfied smile at her as she rose, then heaved to his feet to drag the chair from the dressing table to beside the bed. As the door to the bathroom closed, he gestured toward the bed and said, “What are you waiting for?”
Harry padded over and flung the covers back, letting the breath sough out of him as he lay down. His eyes closed for a beat, then they flew open again to look at Ron straddling the backwards chair with his arms crossed and resting on the chairback. His brow creasing in a worried scowl, Harry said, “It’s really over, right?”
Ron pursed his lips in an attempt to still their sudden trembling, and his eyes misted as he rasped, “Yeah. It’s over. You won.”
Harry curled forward and reached out to grip Ron’s arm. “We won. Not just me.”
They stared at each other in silence for a long moment, then Ron jerked his head in a brusque nod. His voice was a gravelly whisper as he said, “I just wish we hadn’t lost so much in order to win.”
The lump climbed into Harry’s throat again and he murmured, “I’m so sorry, Ron. Really, I am.”
Ron rubbed his sleeve against his eyes and sniffed. “I know. I don’t blame you. I just… miss Fred, y’know?”
Harry swallowed hard, his eyes smarting with hot tears. “I do. I miss him too.” His voice trailed off into a whisper as he said, almost to himself, “Him and so many others.” There was a heavy silence, then he continued, “Can I tell you something?”
Ron looked at him, instantly concerned. “Of course!”
Harry blinked several times, taking deep breaths, working out how best to say it. He flicked a glance at the bathroom door and said, “It hurts… so much… that so many people died—for me. I never wanted that! But, as awful as it sounds, and as horrible a person as it makes me… if they all had to die in order for you two to be alive… to me, it was worth it.”
His eyes begged for understanding as he met Ron’s gaze. Ron’s jaw twitched. In the silence after his confession, the click of the bathroom door opening sounded like a gunshot. Hermione slipped out quietly, drawing their attention. She gazed at them solemnly as she crossed to the bed, where she sank onto the edge by Harry’s knees. She looked between them and softly said, “I heard what you said, Harry.”
Both boys turned wide eyes to her, Harry’s wary and pleading, Ron’s shadowed with grief. She placed her hands in each of theirs. “I understand.” Holding Ron’s gaze, she said, “And I don’t think you’re a horrible person, Harry. You’ve lost more than both of us put together.” Ron closed his eyes and inclined his head, taking deep, steadying breaths. “But I can appreciate how you feel about us.” She released Ron’s hand and tenderly brushed his hair back, cupping his cheek, urging him to look at her. When he lifted his glassy eyes to meet hers, she continued, looking at Ron but speaking to Harry, “We love you, too, Harry.”
She and Ron exchanged a resolute look, and Ron reached out to clasp their joined hands. Then they both turned to look at Harry, who looked a little startled that they had included him in their expression of devotion. They all dropped their gaze to their tangled hands, then Ron squeezed once before pulling away, saying, “My turn in the shower.”
Both Harry and Hermione looked up at him, and he quirked a faint, weary smile. When he had disappeared into the bathroom, Harry turned to Hermione, gratitude overflowing like the tears that drowned the green of his eyes.
“Thanks again, Hermione. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
She pulled him into a hug and said, “Don’t worry about it, ‘cause you won’t have to.”
When she backed away, Harry sank back onto his elbows, and Hermione scrambled into the middle of the bed, leaning against the headboard. She plunked a pillow on her lap and patted it. Harry smiled and crawled closer, laying his head on the pillow and hugging her knees. Her hands rested on him, one rubbing his shoulder and the other playing with his hair. Harry felt himself start to relax, finally starting to feel safe.
He had fallen into a light doze when Ron emerged from the bathroom, but quickly sat up and squirmed back to the side of the bed, rubbing his face. Ron snorted as he leapt onto the bed, bouncing them all. “Ease up, mate. No worries, remember?”
Harry blinked blearily at them, and they both smiled. Hermione scooted further down the bed, shoving her feet under the covers. Gesturing at the boys to lie down properly, she flicked her wand at the lights and said, “Nox.”
Ron sprawled on one side and Harry sank back on the other side, framing Hermione in the middle of the large bed. Once they were settled, Harry yawned, then murmured, “Thanks…”
Ron’s voice was thick with his own yawn as he said, “No problem, now shut up already.”
Hermione tsked and added, “Go to sleep, Harry. Everything’s fine.”
Harry, warming up under the covers, felt himself being pulled back into oblivion, and the repeated surge of love and gratitude was his last conscious thought before he fell deeply asleep.
*****
A few hours later, Hermione woke to the feel of Ron pulling her tighter into his spooning embrace. His nose was nuzzling against the back of her neck, and he slowly ground his erection against her arse. She came fully awake with a gasp, freezing as she remembered where they were and what had happened. When she felt Ron’s lips grazing along the side of her throat, she stifled a moan.
Eyes opening wide in the darkness, she tried to see if Harry had woken up as well. It was too dark, so she slid her hand under her pillow to grip her wand, non-verbally casting Lumos and slipping the wandtip out from under the pillow. In the faint glow, she saw Harry curled up with his back to them, his breathing still deep and steady.
Ron looked too, and when he saw that Harry was fast asleep, he pressed his advantage and lifted up over Hermione, turning her in his arms. She met his heated gaze for a moment before he descended on her with a fierce kiss. Hermione squirmed onto her back, her hands roaming over his back as he shifted to press his hard cock against her leg and drag one hand up her side to cup her breast.
They lay there, snogging vehemently and grinding, flicking glances at Harry until they no longer cared, and Ron’s hand crept under her top to caress her breast and palm the stiff nipple. Hermione dipped her fingers beneath the waist of Ron’s pyjama bottoms, kneading his arse and undulating against his knee pressed between her legs. As if by unspoken accord, Ron slipped under Hermione’s waistband and stroked her damp curls at the same time she grazed her hand around his hip to grip his straining erection.
Their shocked cries were muffled by each other’s lips, but their eyes flew open to stare at each other in molten desire. Backing away, they panted shallowly, then Ron whispered, “I want you so much.”
Hermione exhaled a shuddering breath and retorted, “Don’t wake Harry.” She licked her lips and breathed, “Carefully now—get off the bed.”
Ron’s brow furrowed in confusion, but he complied, frowning when her soft hand released him. Hermione watched Harry as Ron backed out of the bed, but he never stirred. Then, slowly, she edged out as well, holding her breath until they were both standing there, waiting to see if he noticed their absence. After a long moment of silence, she turned to Ron and tilted her head toward the bathroom. Twining her fingers with his, she led him to tiptoe across the room and push the door almost closed behind them.
His breath tickled her ear as Ron whispered, “Why not shut it?”
Leaning her faintly lit wand against the mirror, Hermione hissed, “You heard how loud it was earlier. We just have to be quiet.”
Ron squinted at her in the dim light and said, “Be quiet doing what?”
Hermione pinned him with a scorching look and backed him against the counter, her hands tangling in his hair as she pulled him down for a kiss. He responded eagerly, wrapping his arms around her and gripping her arse as he guided her to one side, turning them so he had her trapped against the counter instead. Shifting his hands to grasp her waist, he lifted her enough that she sat on the countertop, her knees spreading to pull him closer as she wound her legs around his hips. Her embrace was crushingly tight as she pulled away from the kiss and buried her face against his neck, rasping, “I was so scared I’d lose you.”
Ron breathed, “Me too,” then lifted her face to look her in the eyes. “I was afraid something would happen and I’d never get the chance to tell you I love you.”
Hermione gazed at him adoringly and whispered, “I love you, Ron. I have for ages. And I’ve wanted this for so long now.”
Their lips met in another passionate kiss, and Hermione trailed her hands down his back and under his pyjama bottoms again, massaging his arse and pulling him tight against her cleft as she perched on the edge of the counter.
Ron kept one arm wrapped around her but let his other hand roam over her body, once again ending with his fingers slipping along her damp curls, eliciting gasps of pleasure from Hermione.
Suddenly, she let go of him and backed away, causing Ron to blink at her in alarm and step backward. But she simply wriggled out of her pyjama bottoms, shoving them down her legs and leaving her bare-arsed on the countertop.
Ron sucked in a ragged breath, his cock bouncing as he drank in the sight of her naked from the waist down, spreading her knees again as she beckoned for him to come back. He bounded forward again, his hands caressing her thighs as they snogged. Hermione fumbled with his clothing until she had one hand wrapped around his aching erection and the other arm around his neck, holding him close so she could whisper in his ear.
“Please… I want to feel alive. Ron, please… I love you.”
He turned to look in her eyes and she squeezed his cock, making him shudder. Incredulous, he choked, “Are you sure?”
Hermione nodded even as she kissed him, then breathed on his lips, “Make love to me, Ron.”
He groaned and shifted to shove his pyjama bottoms down, feeling them pool around his ankles. His cock sprang forward, twitching in excitement, and he gently stroked her curls, dipping one finger between her slick, swollen lips. She gasped in his ear and tilted her hips, spreading her legs further in encouragement.
The tip of his finger sank into her wet heat, and his thumb traced upward, sliding until he touched her throbbing clit. Her stifled moan sent a jolt of arousal through his body, ending in his bollocks. He thrust into her, adding a second finger, then spread her slippery juices over her heated flesh.
When he withdrew his fingers and licked his palm to coat his length with saliva, Hermione’s breath caught in anticipation. Closing in on her, he guided his cock toward her cunt, exhaling slowly as he sank in. Once the first couple of inches were safely inside her warm embrace, he gripped her hips and tugged her forward, tilting her back so she was barely resting on the counter, her arse hanging over the edge. She locked her legs around his waist and wrapped her arms around his neck as he pressed forward with agonizing slowness until he was fully immersed in her clutching depths.
Hermione’s eyes rolled back and she heaved a deep sigh of satisfaction. Ron tilted his hips, grinding into her, and she gasped. With one hand, Ron unbuttoned her pyjama top to cup her breasts and tease her nipples as they rocked in a languid rhythm.
*****
Harry woke with a start. Something had woken him, and he strained to see and hear in the darkness. He heard faint sounds of breathing in the bathroom and carefully rolled over, his questing hand finding nothing but empty bed beside him. A flash of panic—Don’t leave me alone!—made him sit up, throwing the covers back and snatching his wand from under his pillow.
Eyes wide, trying to see any movement in the bedroom, Harry gingerly slid off the edge of the bed and tiptoed toward the bathroom, from which a sliver of dim light shone along the narrow opening of the door. The sounds of breathing grew more discernible, as did the rustling of clothing, of skin rubbing on skin. Edging up to the door, he peered in, holding his breath.
Hermione was wrapped around Ron, her head thrown back as he fucked her, rocking her at the edge of the bathroom counter. Hermione had opened Ron’s pyjama top and shoved it off his shoulders and down his arms, where it bunched and hung around his elbows. Hermione’s top was rumpled in a heap behind her, halfway in the sink to one side, and her breasts bounced with every thrust.
Harry slowly released the air trapped in his lungs, relief that he wasn’t alone, and that they were apparently in no danger, washing over him like a bucket of cold water. Immediately after that, a wave of heat followed, and he bit his lip to hold back the moan of fascination that threatened to expose him as a voyeur.
He stood there, mesmerized by the play of muscles in Ron’s freckled shoulders and chest, the dance of soft light and shadow over Hermione’s smooth skin and blissful expression. He smiled at the realization that the two people he loved most had finally come together the way they should have long ago.
Ron’s legs couldn’t stay in the same position much longer, so he pulled Hermione closer and whispered, “Hang on a tick… I need to move.”
Hermione unlocked her legs from around his hips and leant back on her elbows as his cock withdrew from her completely. He stepped out of his pyjama bottoms, let his pyjama top fall to the floor, and circled around the side of the counter, lifting one foot to settle on the toilet lid and steadying himself with one hand against the wall. He beckoned to Hermione and she grinned, spinning ninety degrees to the side and raising one foot to rest on his shoulder as she lay back along the counter and scooted her arse over the edge again.
Ron grinned back at her as he gripped her thigh and tilted forward, sinking into her again and making her arch in a silent squeal.
From Harry’s vantage point, he could see the top of Hermione’s head, down her slender body to the junction where Ron’s bright red curls meshed with her dark brown bush on every stroke. Ron was facing Harry’s direction, and Harry could watch the rippling muscles down his pale chest and belly as well as the ever-shifting expressions of pleasure on his face.
Hermione kept undulating against Ron, her breathing uneven. Ron increased the pace and force of his thrusts, and one particularly hard one was met with just the right angle of Hermione’s writhing hips, eliciting a short cry. Ron’s eyes widened, and he flicked a glance at the door.
Harry was rooted to the spot, and he couldn’t even react when he realized that Ron could see him watching them through the cracked door. Ron’s eyes locked with his and he swallowed hard, but he didn’t stop plunging deep into Hermione, making wet, rhythmic, smacking noises.
There was a long, charged moment, then Ron nodded slowly at Harry before whispering, “Hermione, I want to feel you come on my cock.”
Harry’s eyes closed with the tingle that raced over him at Ron’s words. He swallowed and opened his eyes again to see Hermione trailing one hand down her belly to circle her clit. Ron tore his gaze from Harry to look down at the erotic sight, cursing under his breath. When he looked back at Harry, his blue eyes were almost black with lust.
Harry nodded encouragement, and Ron pistoned faster as he panted, “Yeah, Hermione, come on my cock. I wanna’ feel it. Fuck, you’re so wet…”
Hermione was panting too, and her fingers were dancing over her clit. Her other hand crept up to fist in her hair, her mouth open as her head canted back, and her eyes screwed shut. Ron looked down at her as she crested her peak, flashing a triumphant grin at Harry as she shuddered and convulsed in climax.
Ron locked eyes with Harry again, pounding hard to draw out her orgasm. When she relaxed, gasping, his eyes blazed at Harry as he backed away enough to stroke himself. His fist was pumping feverishly on his cock, and he licked his lips just before his eyes closed and he bucked, his face contorted in a rictus of ecstasy as he came, spurting ropes of creamy liquid all over Hermione’s mound and belly.
When he opened his eyes again, breathing heavily, he instantly checked to see if Harry was still watching. A deliciously sated smirk spread his lips and he rasped, “Fuck, that was brilliant!”
Hermione chuckled in agreement, reaching down to caress his fingers where they were wrapped around her thigh. “I love you.”
Ron smiled and pressed a kiss to her leg where it was propped on his shoulder. “I love you.” He continued kissing down her leg, flicking smug glances at Harry, until he sank onto the toilet lid and leant down, burying his tongue in Hermione’s cunt, making her writhe in pleasure. Licking and suckling on her glistening flesh, his mischievous eyes barely visible above her mound, he held Harry’s fascinated gaze.
Hermione was quickly becoming aroused again, and Ron lifted his damp face from her pussy enough to sink two fingers into her, fucking her with them. She clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle the moans that she couldn’t stop. Ron bent down and sucked her clit between his lips, cocking one eyebrow at Harry as she thrashed and flailed.
Ron continued his carnal assault until he could feel her cunt tightening around his fingers, then he winked at Harry as he hummed encouragement. The vibrations of his voice against her sensitive spot, coupled with the pressure of his fingers inside her, sent Hermione over the edge into another shuddering orgasm.
When she quieted again, Ron released her and sat back, murmuring, “You taste so fucking good…”
Hermione sighed in repletion and whispered, “I promise I’ll return the favour soon.”
Ron snorted faintly and grinned. “I promise I’ll let you.”
They both laughed silently, then Ron cast a meaningful look at Harry and whispered, “Why don’t we get cleaned up and get some sleep? I don’t know about you, but I feel pretty relaxed.”
Harry jerked back from the doorway and scrambled back to the bed, taking care to gently climb back in, hoping the mattress wouldn’t squeak. He had burrowed back under the covers, heart pounding, when the bathroom door slowly opened. Shutting his eyes and feigning sleep, he listened as Ron and Hermione crept back to bed, carefully slipping under the covers and settling beside him.
He lay there, trying to regulate his breathing, and heard them kiss before lying still. After a long while, he heard Ron’s faint snoring and Hermione’s steady breathing, and he relaxed again, relieved that he hadn’t been caught—well, by Hermione, at least.
It took a long time for Harry to fall asleep again. He couldn’t stop replaying what he had seen—Hermione’s smooth curves and sensuous movements, Ron’s lean muscles and intense gaze—and while it did make him fairly hard, it was the feelings in his heart that interested him more than just the feelings in his trousers.
May 3, 1998
The next morning, Harry was up before either of the other two, having been roused from his fitful sleep by nightmarish flashbacks of the battle. His shallow, racing breathing slowed as soon as he looked over at his sleeping mates—he wasn’t alone. Quietly, he slipped out of the bed, got dressed, and headed down to the kitchen to look into breakfast.
Ron woke next, a slow smirk spreading his lips at the memories that assailed him of his middle-of-the-night liaison. Yawning and stretching, he glanced over to see Harry’s space in the bed empty, and an amused yet relieved expression took up residence after his yawn. He edged out of bed, trying not to disturb Hermione, and got dressed. Before he left, he crept onto the bed again and kissed Hermione to wake her.
“Hermione, sleep as long as you like. I just wanted to let you know Harry and I were up and about. If I’m gone when you get up, don’t worry. I’ll be back soon. Love you.”
Hermione sighed and blinked blearily at him, smiling as she mumbled, “Mmm, ‘kay. Love you…” She rolled over and burrowed more comfortably under the covers, and Ron shook his head, flashing a fond grin.
Harry was at the kitchen table, eating porridge and reading the Daily Prophet when Ron loped in and sat across from him. He looked up, wary and startled, scrabbling for his wand, then relaxed immediately when he saw it was him. Harry’s smile of greeting was tempered by his awkward flushing, remembering his voyeuristic antics.
Ron nodded, one corner of his mouth quirked up in a knowing smirk, and took the steaming bowl of porridge from Kreacher with a cheerful, “Thanks, Kreacher.” As he spooned sweetener into it, he drawled, “How are you feeling this morning? Did you sleep okay?”
Harry swallowed nervously, unable to meet Ron’s knowing gaze. Playing with a corner of the newspaper, he said, “Uh, yeah, I guess. I had some nightmares this morning, so I just got up.”
Ron’s smirk vanished, his brow furrowing with a look of concern. “Are you all right?”
Harry shrugged, shredding the corner of the paper. Suddenly, his anxious movement was stilled by Ron’s hand covering his, gripping it and stroking his thumb along Harry’s skin in a soothing manner. Harry snapped his gaze up to Ron, green eyes meeting blue.
Ron’s expression was full of compassion as he said, “It’s okay. It’s all over. We’re here with you, and we’re not going anywhere.”
The knot of tension in Harry’s belly loosened, and he heaved a sigh of relief, closing his eyes for a beat before offering Ron a shaky smile. Ron beamed back at him, squeezing his hand before returning his attention to his porridge.
Harry looked down at the paper, his brow furrowing again at the headlines detailing all the carnage and destruction of the day before, and Ron, deciding not to tease Harry—it really wasn’t the moment for that—mumbled around a mouthful of porridge, “I’m gonna’ go to the Burrow after breakfast and check on everyone.”
Harry nodded, the stabbing pain of loss and guilt making him unable to meet Ron’s eyes. He knew as well as Ron did that “everyone” mostly meant “George.” Gut roiling, Harry stammered, “I-I want t-to… know, but… I don’t think I can… go…”
Ron gripped Harry’s hand again and said, “I wasn’t expecting you to, mate. You need to stay here, away from the chaos, so you can work on healing yourself. As much as I love my family, I don’t know that I could stay there long—in that atmosphere. Besides, you need me, too. Like we said, we’re in this together, the three of us. That’s why I’m going: to tell them that I’m staying with you but I wanted to see how they’re holding up.”
Harry’s eyes misted as the intense feeling of love and gratitude welled up. Throat tight, he managed a whispered, “Thanks.”
Ron squeezed Harry’s hand again before finishing his porridge and pouring a tall glass of pumpkin juice. Harry was staring at the list of those who had died the day before, his gaze lingering over Lupin’s and Tonks’s names, when Hermione entered the kitchen.
“Morning!” She went first to Harry and gave him a hug, dropping a kiss on his head, then rounded the table to sit by Ron, ducking to give him a chaste kiss on the lips before sinking into the chair and caressing his thigh as she reached for the pumpkin juice with her other hand. Once she was seated, and had her breakfast in front of her, she looked at Harry and said, her voice full of concern, “Apparently you were up first… is everything all right? How are you feeling?”
Harry shrugged, keeping his face averted to hide his blushing cheeks. “I had some nightmares that woke me, so I just got up instead of trying to go back to sleep or taking the chance of waking you two. I’m okay now.”
Hermione flicked an anxious glance at Ron and he nodded, indicating that things were as fine as they could be under the circumstances. Hermione relaxed and began eating her toast as Ron gulped the last of his juice and stood.
“All right, I’m off. I doubt I’ll be gone long.”
Hermione peered up at him and clasped his hand. “Where are you going?”
“The Burrow.”
Her face fell. “Oh, of course. Should we go with you?”
Ron met Harry’s gaze and said, “No, you two stay here. It’s… it’s a family thing for now; you understand.”
Harry heaved a silent sigh of relief as Hermione said, “Of course. Well, give them our love.”
“Will do.” Ron bent down to kiss Hermione, then strode to the fireplace to use the Floo.
When he was gone, Hermione appraised Harry again, then said, “Here, why don’t you give me that. You shouldn’t torture yourself by dwelling on things you can’t change.”
Harry sat back in his chair, allowing Hermione to tug the paper from him. He scrubbed his face with his hands and said, “I don’t know how I can face all the funerals…”
Hermione made a faint noise of sympathy and immediately got up to round the table again, stopping beside him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Don’t think about that right now. You have to focus on you.”
Harry snorted. “That’s what Ron said.”
Hermione voiced a low chuckle and murmured, “Well, he was right.”
“What happens now? I mean, it’s finally over, but there’s so much that’s been destroyed. What do we do now?”
Hermione sat in the chair beside him and gripped his hand. “We live, Harry. We move ahead into the future that waits for us. We clean up what needs to be cleaned up, remember those who died fighting for this new reality, and honour them by learning to enjoy life and love again.”
Harry looked into her earnest brown eyes and felt warmed by the love he saw there. He twisted and enveloped her in a tight hug, his breath shaky as he whispered, “I’m so glad you and Ron are safe. I love you both so much.”
Hermione soothed him, murmuring, “We know. And we love you too. We’ll get through this, Harry. Together.”
He nodded and released her, letting her drag her breakfast across the table so she could remain beside him.
After she had eaten a bit more, she said, “To be more specific, in answer to your question… I plan to go to the Ministry to talk to the Magical Reversal Squad about whether it’s possible to repair my parents’ memories and bring them back from Australia.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “Hermione, that’s brilliant! I’m sure they can help.”
Her smile was watery, but she said, “I hope so. But if not, I at least want to make sure they’re all right.”
She wiped her mouth with a napkin and pushed her plate away before sitting back in her chair, looking pensive. Harry said, “What are you waiting for? You’re finished eating, right?”
Hermione snapped her gaze to his and said, “Ron’s not back yet!”
“Are you going to take him with you?”
Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head. “No. But I’m not about to leave you here alone. When he gets back, I’ll go then.”
Harry blinked, the realization at how seriously they took staying with him once again sparking a surge of relief and love.
Hermione looked at him and smiled gently. “So, why don’t we do something fun? Take your mind off… things.”
Harry shrugged and said, “Sure. What?”
“How about some Exploding Snap?” She stood and proffered her hand.
Harry clasped her hand and rose, too, and they went upstairs to settle on the library floor with the game.
A little over an hour after he left, Ron returned; Harry and Hermione heard his muffled call, “I’m back!” They heaved to their feet and dashed to meet him at the top of the kitchen stairs. His face was drawn, and he moved wearily. Hermione immediately threw her arms around his neck.
Harry watched them hugging, his gut roiling with tension. Ron opened his eyes and saw Harry watching them again. With one hand, Ron reached out, inviting Harry into the embrace. Harry exhaled in relief, his gut calming, as he stepped into Ron’s arm, wrapping one arm around Ron’s shoulders and one around Hermione’s.
Hermione’s voice was muffled against Ron’s chest as she said, “Are you all right?”
Ron sighed, squeezing them both before backing away. Hermione’s anxious eyes were trained on his face as he said, “Yeah. I’m glad to be back. It’s… pretty awful over there.”
As one, they moved into the library again, Ron murmuring, “George is holed up in his room, dosed up with some sedative potions. Mum is practically stuck to Ginny. Bill and Charlie have joined with the Ministry people working on clean-up at the school. Percy is helping Dad and the others at the Ministry itself, clearing up after the Death Eater infiltration. Mum did tell me that there had already been discussion about having concurrent funerals.”
At that, Harry winced, and Hermione flicked a glance at him, squeezing his hand.
Ron continued, “Mum also said that Kingsley is personally attending to each and every department, making sure things are going the way they’re supposed to. He’s been flitting from one group to the next non-stop since yesterday.” He looked at Hermione. “So, if you want to get folks working on retrieving your parents, I reckon you better get over there fast before they get too long a list of other things to do first.”
Hermione bit her lower lip in anxiety. She glanced back at Harry, and he said, “Well, go on. Ron’s back, so you don’t need to stick around any longer.”
“Are you sure?” Her brow furrowed with worry as she looked back and forth between them.
Both boys nodded, and Ron said, “Hermione, go. We’ve got things under control here.”
Nodding, she darted forward and hugged them, saying, “Hopefully, I won’t be long,” before hastening down to the Floo.
Left in the silence of the library, Ron sank back onto the couch, closed his eyes, and scrubbed his face. Harry summoned Kreacher and quietly requested some Firewhisky. The elf returned with a dusty bottle and two tumblers, bowing low in response to Harry’s thanks.
Harry poured a liberal amount into each glass and held one out to Ron, clearing his throat to get his attention. Ron blinked at him in a mixture of surprise and gratitude, took the glass, and held it aloft, saying, “To absent friends.”
Harry mumbled the toast and touched glasses before downing a large gulp, gasping at the searing burn as it made its way to his belly.
Ron coughed, eyes tearing at the intensity of the alcohol, then croaked, “I always thought that was such a trite thing to say… but I guess it really does mean something after all.” He took another swallow, then said, “Thanks, mate. It does help.”
Harry shrugged. “I didn’t know what else to do, and I don’t think we have any potions in the house.”
Ron snorted, reminded of George in his potion-induced haze. Then, he shook his head violently and took a deep breath. “So, what were you two doing while I was gone?”
Harry gestured to the game on the floor. “Hermione said we should do something fun to take our minds off things.”
Ron smiled. “She would. ‘S a good idea—same thing with this stuff.” He lifted the Firewhisky. “Right then, let’s think about something fun…” He closed his eyes for a beat, then opened them and pinned Harry with a smug, amused look. “Last night was pretty fun, wouldn’t you say?”
Harry blushed, averting his gaze from Ron’s wicked blue eyes. “I-I’m sorry about that…”
Ron laughed and said, “Don’t be sorry! If I’d had a problem with it, I’d have done something about it then, yeah?”
Harry glanced up at him, incredulous. “You didn’t tell Hermione, did you? I reckon she might feel a bit differently.”
Ron grimaced and took another sip of Firewhisky. “Nah, she doesn’t know.” There was a pause, then he added, “Did you wish it was you?”
“What?”
Ron regarded him with narrowed eyes. “With Hermione, like that. Or with me like that, for that matter.”
Harry’s eyes flew open wide, and he could only gape helplessly at his best friend. Unable to answer, he gulped more alcohol, coughing at the burn.
Ron tossed his head. “I mean, I know you and Ginny—”
Harry cut him off. “Ginny and I never did that!”
Ron nodded. “I know that. I meant, I didn’t know if you wanted Hermione like that, since… y’know… Ginny.”
Harry blinked. “I love Ginny. But… not like you two. The three of us have been through too much that she can’t ever understand like you two can. Besides, she’s still got to finish school, and I… I don’t know if I could even be with her right now. Everything is too raw. You guys keep saying it: I need to get better first…” and he ducked his head as he continued in a whisper, “…and I need you two for that.”
“I know what you mean.”
At that, Harry looked back up in surprise. Brow furrowed, he said, “What do you mean by that?”
Ron eyed Harry speculatively, took another drink, and said, “I mean that as amazing as finally being with Hermione was last night, it was better with you watching.”
Harry’s mouth went dry.
Ron continued, “I guess I need you both too. At least, until I can get whole on my own. I’m pretty sure that Hermione feels the same way. I just didn’t want to freak her out, since it was our first time together, but I wish I could’ve invited you in.”
Harry’s gut fluttered, and he swallowed hard. His voice was cautious as he said, “I didn’t think you were into blokes.”
Ron snorted, tossed back the last of his Firewhisky, and smirked lopsidedly at Harry. “I’m not. But you’re not a bloke. You’re just Harry!”
Harry couldn’t help but return the smile. Somehow, Ron had managed to put into words the exact thing Harry had been feeling the night before as he lay in the dark and pondered what he had seen and felt. Clearing his throat, he said, “So, you reckon you’re gonna’ say anything to Hermione about all this?”
Ron frowned in thought, then sniffed. “Some time. I mean, I’m done keeping things bottled up—that’s how that damned horcrux nearly got me. And, we know how short and precarious life can be… So, yeah, I don’t know when, but it’s bound to come out at some point.”
Harry snorted at the inadvertent pun and drained his glass of Firewhisky, reflecting on the pleasant lassitude that was extending through his body, numbing the ache at the reminder of everyone they’d lost. He spun from his sideways perch beside Ron to sink back onto the couch next to him, smiling when Ron flung his arm around Harry’s shoulder and squeezed his arm. They propped their feet on the low table in front of them and squirmed until they were comfortably ensconced, Harry’s head leaning against Ron’s bicep and Ron’s cheek pillowed on Harry’s untidy hair.
After a long moment of companionable silence, Ron murmured, “Got any more of that?”
Harry Summoned the bottle and tumblers and poured the remaining alcohol into their glasses. He dropped the empty bottle onto the floor and held up his glass. Ron clinked his glass against Harry’s and said, “Time for another toast.”
“Like what?” Harry snuggled a little lower and turned his head enough that he could hear Ron’s heartbeat.
Ron tousled Harry’s hair with a lazy movement and said, “How about, ‘To love’?”
Harry smiled and added, “It’s what got us through this war; it’s why we won. I like it. To love!”
They downed the rest of the Firewhisky, even though it took several swallows to get through it. Once they were finished with their coughing fits, Harry twisted to look up at Ron and said, “Everything’s gonna’ be okay, innit?”
Ron gazed down at Harry’s upturned face and felt the warmth of the alcohol mixing with the warmth of being safe and comfortable with Harry, away from the anguish elsewhere. Quirking a lopsided smile, he whispered, “Yeah, mate. We’re all gonna’ be brilliant,” then bent his head to press a Firewhisky-laced kiss to Harry’s lips.
Harry froze, his reactions slowed by the alcohol-induced haze. Still, he found himself opening his lips to Ron’s tentative tongue. Tingles streaked through him, and he felt surrounded with warmth and comfort. Harry shifted enough to allow their snog to progress more easily, so his neck wasn’t twisted awkwardly. His movement spurred Ron to twist toward Harry, lifting his far hand to cup Harry’s jaw and hold him in place for Ron’s languid kisses.
The weight that seemed to rest on Harry’s shoulders felt lighter, and his heartache eased under the tender onslaught. His hand gripped Ron’s leg just above the knee, but as their snogging continued, his hand slid higher until his wrist bumped against Ron’s erection. At that, Harry’s roaming hand stopped, but he stroked Ron’s thigh, his fingertips tracing circles and massaging the crease of Ron’s leg.
Blissfully fuzzy and relaxed from the Firewhisky, the two boys lost themselves in pleasurable sensations. They were so oblivious to the world that they never heard Hermione approaching the library.
Hermione paused on the threshold, too stunned to even voice her surprise. Eyes wide, mouth open, she stared unblinkingly at the scene, taking in the empty bottle of Firewhisky, their empty glasses, and the slow, sweet nature of the two boys’ intimate embrace. As unprepared as she was for such a sight, she was less prepared for the stab of heat that raced over her, leaving goose bumps on her skin, ending with a throb in her centre.
Sucking in a steadying breath, she backed away from the doorway, edging to one side and across the corridor so that she could watch without being seen. Her pulse was racing from the shock, but, the longer she watched them together, the more it raced in joyful recognition.
She would have been terribly hurt if she had come upon Ron snogging anyone else this way, seeing it as a betrayal of their relationship. But, Harry… He wasn’t anyone else; he’s Harry. The three of them had a bond like no one else she had ever heard of, after all they had gone through together. It seemed only logical that their love for each other should be expressed this way.
Still, she didn’t know how they would react to her catching them in the act, so she waited and watched, feeling her face warming in response. After several long minutes, the slow kisses stopped, and Ron pressed his forehead against Harry’s, heaving a deep sigh of contentment. Hermione barely heard his whisper as he said, “Wish Hermione was here…”
Harry’s faint, “Me too,” made Ron smile and Hermione’s breath catch. Ron let go of Harry’s jaw and lifted his head, guiding Harry’s head back to its previous position cradled against Ron’s chest.
The pose was peaceful, and Hermione realized it was safe to “come home” now. She tiptoed back down the corridor, descended a few steps before turning around again, and called, “I’m home!”
She heard the boys’ pleased cries, and by the time she had strode down the corridor again, they were both at the library door, to welcome her back.
Ron pulled her into a hug and said, “Well, what’d you find out?”
Harry’s eyes lit up with hope at her tentative smile. “I got to speak to the Squad, and I even saw Kingsley—he says to send his regards. I’m on the list of tasks, but it’ll still probably be a few weeks before they can even begin looking into things.”
Ron dragged her to the couch where he had so recently been snogging Harry and guided her to sit in the middle, so he and Harry could sit on either side of her. She bent to move one of the tumblers out of the way, casting a querying glance at them.
Harry flushed and said, “Sorry. It wasn’t a full bottle to begin with, but we should have left some for you too.”
Hermione shrugged. “It’s okay. If you needed something to take the edge off, I can’t say I blame you. But I am glad I didn’t come back to find you pissed.”
Ron beamed at her and said, “A little tipsy, perhaps, but hardly soused. I have full control over my faculties, thank you very much.”
Harry snapped his gaze to Ron and found him pinning him with a meaningful look. He flashed a smile and looked away, not noticing Hermione’s pink cheeks and quickened breathing.
Hermione murmured faintly, “Perhaps we should take stock and place an order for supplies—including more Firewhisky if you want to keep some around.”
Ron nodded. “Good idea. Let’s go.” Shooting to his feet, he proffered a hand to each of them, pulling them to their feet and dragging them behind him as he headed back to the kitchen. When they reached the library door, Harry and Hermione—both with their hands in Ron’s iron grip—knocked against each other, forming a scrum in the doorway and making Ron jerk to a stop as they sorted themselves out.
By the time Hermione disentangled herself from Harry, noticing how nice his body felt against hers, everyone was laughing. Glad of the excuse for her flushed cheeks, Hermione continued jostling the boys as they romped their way along the corridor and down into the kitchen. The roughhousing gave her another reason to touch them and be close to them, without revealing that she had been a voyeur to their earlier intimacy.
Later that night, when it was time for bed, they once again took turns bathing. While Hermione was in the shower, Ron grinned and whispered to Harry, “Want a replay of last night?”
Harry’s eyes widened even as he shivered at the memory. He hissed back, “What do you mean?”
Ron leant closer and breathed, “I’ll make sure to shake the bed enough to wake you, just don’t act like you’re awake. Then you can watch us again.”
“Do you really think we should do that?”
“Don’t you want to?”
Harry swallowed hard and flicked a guilty glance at the bathroom door. “Well...” He trailed off, then was surprised when Ron surged forward and kissed him, gripping the back of his neck.
“Please, Harry? It’s so much better when you’re a part of it.”
Harry could only stare mutely at Ron, who sank back onto the bed, away from Harry as they heard the water stop. A couple of minutes later, Hermione emerged from the bathroom and smiled at Ron as he passed her on his way in.
As she clambered into the middle of the bed again, Hermione said, “I hope you’ll sleep better tonight. It was nice to finally have a peaceful day like today, wasn’t it?”
Harry smiled at her, then frowned anxiously. Hermione instantly knelt closer to him and clasped his hand, saying, “What’s wrong?”
Harry closed his eyes, feeling his face warm as he struggled to find the right words. “I was just wondering… what you think… someone… should do… if they saw something… personal…”
Hermione froze, going pale in shock. In an aghast whisper, she said, “How did you know? I thought you couldn’t see me!”
Harry’s brows shot up to his hairline as he met her mortified gaze. “What?”
Hermione shook her head and gripped his hands, her expression imploring. “I didn’t mean to spy—not at first! I just… never expected to see you two like that. But then I realized how perfect it was…”
It all came together, and Harry rasped, “How much did you see?”
Hermione whispered, “I saw you kissing, and… and it was so gentle… and sweet.”
Heart pounding, Harry said, “And you didn’t mind?”
Hermione lifted a hand to Harry’s cheek and said, “I was shocked, but it makes sense. After all we’ve been through, I know you must’ve bonded with Ron as much as I have.”
Harry covered her hand with his hand where it lay against his cheek and whispered, “It’s not just me and Ron, or you and Ron. It’s all of us. You know that, right? We can’t say it enough: we’re all in this together.”
Hermione nodded, biting her lower lip. Harry lifted his other hand, releasing her bitten lip with his thumb and leaning into her palm. Then, meeting her dilated eyes, he leant forward and kissed her, taking a moment to suckle her lower lip in an attempt to soothe it. Hermione sighed and kissed him back, until they heard the water stop again, and they backed away with a start, casting guilty glances at the bathroom door.
Harry smiled shakily and said, “I don’t know why we stopped. It’s not like it would bother him.”
Hermione let out a shuddery breath and whispered, “Not right now, Harry. It’s all just so new… Soon.”
Harry nodded and settled under the covers as Ron came out of the bathroom. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get some sleep—and we didn’t even do much today!”
Hermione, rebuilding her composure, said, “Well, we do have a lot to make up for, and we deserve a rest, so just take it when you can get it.”
Ron grinned and flopped into the bed, leaning over to kiss her before dousing the light. “Trust me; I will.” At Harry’s snort and Hermione’s exasperated huff, he chuckled. “Sweet dreams, mates!”
Harry and Hermione chorused, “G’night,” and they all settled down for the night.
***end part one***
Part 2
Tags:
- category: het,
- category: slash,
- fic length: long,
- genre: drama,
- genre: hurt/comfort,
- genre: romance,
- kink: cunnilingus,
- kink: double penetration,
- kink: exhibitionism,
- kink: fingering,
- kink: first time,
- kink: masturbation,
- kink: rimming,
- kink: threesomes,
- kink: virgin,
- kink: voyeurism,
- pairing: hg/hp,
- pairing: hg/rw,
- pairing: hp/rw,
- pairing: hp/rw/hg,
- rating: nc-17,
- type: fic
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no subject
Date: 2011-02-01 12:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-01 05:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-02-06 07:30 pm (UTC)I *really* like that Ron is the linchpin here. Really, if he were opposed, Harry and Hermione would probably never suggest it.
I don't think I've ever seen such hot sex on a bathroom countertop. And that kiss on the couch? GUH!
no subject
Date: 2011-02-06 10:45 pm (UTC)