hpkinkfest | Fic: So That's Her and Me (With a Side Order of Him)

sashaminx.livejournal.com posting in

Title: So That’s Her and Me (With a Side Order of Him)
Author:

sashaminx
Prompt Number: #291 submitted by

kitty_fic
Kink Showcased: Double penetration
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Harry/Hermione/Draco
Summary: Draco has a suggestion and Harry is almost drunk enough to go for it.
Warnings: Het & a bit of slash, nothing else that the kink doesn’t already imply.
Word Count: under 6k
Author's Notes: It could almost be said

sirona_gs co-wrote this, because she whipped it into shape – and me along with it – until it was something I actually like. I love you, hon! <3 Never leave. And more hugs for

wendypops for correcting my vast and confusing edits so incredibly promptly! All remaining mistakes are mine! Thanks for the fun prompt

kitty_fic I know you love and write this trio yourself, so I only hope I did it justice if you read this.

So That’s Her and Me (With a Side Order of Him)

It was the fourth annual ‘Potter’s Piss-up’, a tradition that had begun because of the prolific amount of alcohol Harry received from various people and organizations each year at Christmas, his birthday and the like, that he couldn’t palm off onto anyone else.

It always ended up in a complete shambles, of course, an imbroglio of bodies and drinking shrapnel spewing from one room to another. By morning almost everyone would be gone; only those who couldn’t even make it out of the front door to wave their wands for the Knight Bus would be lying wherever they’d fallen the night before. Two and a half hours in, and tonight’s party looked to be running along the usual lines.

Draco nudged Harry with his elbow, spilling some of Harry’s drink and not caring in the least. “Looks as though Longbottom’s three-year drought has ended.”

Harry tried to focus on Neville, who sat over on the couch. Where most of their friends had developed more mature features over the past few years, Neville’s face was still plump and boyish, never quite losing the innocence of childhood. A bright red flush currently stained the top of his cheeks as Hannah Abbot casually brushed her hand along Neville’s thigh.

Harry’s brow rose in surprise. “Hannah? Wow. I haven’t seen her since school. I didn’t even know she was coming.”

“By the look of that bulge in his trousers, I’d say Longbottom’s not far from coming himself,” Draco snickered.

Harry gave Draco a chiding look, but his lips were curved in amusement. “Shut it. You promised to play nice.”

The alcohol in Draco’s system caused his usually controlled façade to diminish; his movements were relaxed and exaggerated. He managed to splash some of his drink over the edge of the glass as he pretended to be affronted, “I am playing nice!” At Harry’s raised eyebrow, he continued, “I have refrained from commenting on many things.” He leaned in, poking at Harry’s chest. “Many, many things that have presented themselves to me, purely out of respect for your very noble, exceedingly loyal, and utterly lacking in fun Gryffindor sensibilities.”

“I’m touched,” Harry deadpanned. “You must be practically bursting at the seams with all of that unleashed snark roiling around inside you.”

Draco rubbed a hand across his chest, “It’s almost physically painful,” he lamented, draining his glass and leaving in search of another.

Their friendship was barely a year old, but it was one they both carefully nurtured. If one was present, it was not unusual for their group of friends to expect to see the other.

“I’m heading home, Harry.”

Harry started.

“Don’t go, Hermione!” he countered. “It’s early yet. Stay.”

Hermione didn’t socialise much anymore; she had been in a destructive relationship for months before any of them realised what was going on, and though the bastard had never hit her, he had put her down at every opportunity. She was well rid of him now, but she still hadn’t returned to normal. The experience had changed the way she saw herself, and the task of getting her confidence back seemed almost insurmountable. At times like this, it was as if she had already given up trying.

Hermione crinkled her nose. “I’m not really into it tonight, Harry. Maybe I’ll feel more like it another time?”

“Come on, Hermione.” Harry held her wrist to stop her from walking away. “We don’t see you enough anymore. Just … let me get you a drink, or something. You can go after that, if you still feel like it.”

Hermione nodded and sighed, her shoulders drooping slightly. Harry quickly wove his way to the kitchen and poured the first three things he laid his hands on into a glass. He topped it up with cranberry juice and ice, tossed in a slice of lime and when he returned to the living room, presented it to her. She sipped at it unenthusiastically, but was eventually pulled into a conversation with Ginny and Luna.

“She needs to feel sexy again,” Draco announced as he joined Harry, a drink in each hand, his lips chasing a straw around one of the glasses, trying to corner it.

“I guess,” Harry murmured. Rolling his eyes at his friend’s antics, he reached up, steadying the straw. Draco wrapped his lips around it gratefully. “It’s unlike her not to bounce back, though. I wish I could do something…”

“You could shag her.”

It had been precisely the wrong time for Harry to take a sip from his own glass, he reflected, as it sprayed out before them.

“What?” he choked, wiping at the dribble with the back of his arm.

Draco shrugged, his drink slopping over the top of his glass and onto the carpet. Harry realised he was going to need some really good cleaning charms in the morning. “She needs to feel good about herself again. And you need to save her. So shag her.”

“But … ” Harry cast around, trying to follow the path of logic Draco had taken.

Draco sighed. “It’s really not that difficult.”

“She’s my best friend. I can’t shag her.”

“Ever imagined kissing her?”

“Well, yeah,” Harry answered as if it should be obvious. “We were around each other during the ‘Desperately Horny Teenage Years’.”

Draco snickered. “Then, why not?”

“Well … What if – what if I don’t like it? What if it’s like shagging my sister or something, and I want to stop halfway through?” Harry’s face scrunched unpleasantly, and then another thought occurred to him, making his expression go slack. “Or worse … What if I like it too much and want to do it again?”

“Well, you can’t stop halfway through,” Draco conceded, taking an experimental sip from his other drink.

“That would be bad.” Harry agreed.

“Oh, hello Draco,” Luna greeted him pleasantly, sidling up from somewhere nearby. She acknowledged Draco’s drinking-glass salute before turning to Harry. “What was in that drink you gave Hermione, Harry?”

“Huh? Oh, I don’t know. I didn’t really pay much attention. Why?” Harry asked, studiously ignoring the tutting sound of disapproval coming from Draco.

“Nothing really, I was hoping you’d make another one for me, but, oh well.”

“Take Granger into the kitchen with you, she’d probably be able to help you figure out what was in it. You could re-build,” Draco suggested, and then tapped a finger to his head; or at least tried to – he ended up knocking his glass against his ear. “She’s a smart girl, that one. Very analyth … analyth … anal … ” Draco sighed, giving up.

“Oh, well, I would,” Luna smiled, “only she passed out by the bay windows, so … ” She shrugged a pale shoulder and drifted off.

Harry shoved past his guests to where Hermione lay sprawled on the floor. He took in the slow movements of her chest as it rhythmically went up and down, and sighed. “Damn. She’s going to be pissed when she wakes up.”

“C’mon, Potter,” Draco quipped, passing off his drinks into the nearest free hands and picking up her feet. “Let’s get her to bed.”

Harry paused. “I’m not going to shag her while she’s unconscious.”

Draco stared at Harry. “So she can sleep it off, you great git.”

“Oh. Right.” Harry lifted Hermione’s other end and together they moved through the hubbub.

“Is that Hermione?” someone asked.

“That’s one down, then. Only twenty-two to go … ” said another.

“It’s nice of them to make sure she’s comfortable.” Luna’s dreamy voice added.

“Yeah. Hang on. I could transfigure this mat into a mattress then just try and sort of aim for it when I pass out, thereby saving them the trouble when it’s me.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Ron.”

“Oi, Finnegan! That’s my finger you’re sucking on … ”

And so it went on, as they laid her on the bed in the spare room.

*

By around two o’clock in the morning the party had degenerated. Clumps of it kept passing out, and with Draco nowhere in sight Harry decided it was a good time to check on Hermione. He had stopped drinking around midnight, as he always did (someone had to get up in the morning and clean up, after all), and he was feeling quite sober as he entered the bedroom.

The door to the ensuite bathroom was wide open. Light spilled out into the shadowed bedroom and Harry could make out the clear wet glass of the empty shower stall, partially steamed around the edges, indicating it had just been vacated. Hermione had on the towelling robe he left for visitors, her hair hanging loose and damp as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Harry wondered how long she had been standing there.

She startled when Harry cleared his throat.

“Harry!” She turned, flushing awkwardly.

“Hey,” Harry said. “You all right? I’m sorry about earlier … the drink, I mean. ”

“It doesn’t matter. I should have known better. Anyway, it’s not like I couldn’t taste the alcohol in it,” she conceded. “Sometimes oblivion has its appeal.”

Harry frowned. He didn’t like the sound of that, especially coming from Hermione, once so practical and strong.

He had no idea what he should do, but he wanted to help. He held his hand out and spoke softly, “Come here.”

Hermione nervously pushed her hair back and, steeling herself, she walked towards Harry, stopping in front of him and taking his offered hand.

“I wish you’d never met that shit,” he said soberly, facing her. “He had no right to make you feel this way, and if I ever get my hands on him I’ll wring his scrawny little chicken neck!”

Hermione tried to smile, but ended up looking down at her feet uncomfortably. Harry sighed, unsure what to do. He hated that someone had dared hurt her, but he was never good at emotional stuff.

“He’s right,” a third voice sounded from somewhere in the room, and both their heads spun in its direction. There in the shadows, his back leaning on the wall, sat Draco, his head tilted back, his eyes heavy-lidded. “He had no right to take away that know-it-all smile of yours.”

Hermione’s breath hitched. She frowned and then her eyes shot nervously to the bathroom as realisation hit.

“Yes, I watched you shower, Granger.” Draco got up with cat-like grace, and Hermione’s eyes darted to the floor between her and Harry’s feet, embarrassed.

“What are you doing in here?” she mumbled.

“I came in here to relive the head-spins. You were still passed out on the bed, so I settled for the floor.” He tilted his head questioningly. “I must have fallen asleep; when I next opened my eyes, you were already in the bathroom.” He approached them slowly, Hermione’s wide, anxious gaze not daring to leave the floor. “You left the door wide open, Granger, and I had such an advantageous view that it would have been remiss of me to pass it up.”

Draco stopped behind her, her tense stance screaming her discomfort. Harry stroked the back of her hands with his thumbs comfortingly, trying to soothe her. He was a little agitated himself by Hermione’s increasing distress, and at the fact that Draco had watched her shower. Naked. It stirred something disturbingly like jealousy in his gut; though looking at them both now, he couldn’t decide who he was jealous of.

“Why would you watch me?”

Hermione’s whispered question was barely understandable, but Draco seemed to have been waiting for it. “Why?” He leaned his head in, his lips almost brushing her ear. He held Harry’s gaze over her shoulder as he spoke low and intimately. “Because the sight was exquisite. Watching those tiny droplets of water sliding over your naked body – it had my mouth watering.” Hermione breathed in sharply. “I imagined following them with my tongue, licking each and every one of them from your skin.”

Harry licked his lips as Hermione’s pulse sped up, her head tilting unconsciously toward to Draco. It was as if Draco was sharing the experience with him, the way he held Harry’s gaze, and Harry felt parts of him that currently resided in his trousers, swell. Which should have felt wrong – but it didn’t; endorphins this good couldn’t feel wrong.

“You have no idea how you affect the men around you, Granger,” Draco purred. “I bet you never knew that Harry wants to kiss you.”

Harry’s eyes widened as Hermione’s eyes snapped to his. It wasn’t strictly true, what Draco had said; Harry had long ago come to terms with never kissing her, because he’d rather that than risk their friendship; and though the look in her eyes told him that she was surprised, and perhaps a little wary, there was something else there, too, that reflected the spark of excitement and curiosity that surged through him at Draco’s words.

“Harry?” she whispered, looking for confirmation.

“I wonder, will you let him kiss you now that you know?” Draco’s hot breath in her ear caused goose bumps to sprout all over her skin. “Even if it’s just for tonight?”

Hermione swayed a little, and Draco placed his hands on her arms to steady her. Her eyelids drooped marginally at the touch, and she whispered Harry’s name again.

Harry panicked. He knew he could take that kiss from her right now, but he also knew there would be consequences. But, then again, he was a red-blooded man and who knew if he’d ever get the chance again? He decided to stop over thinking it and leaned in close, pausing just shy of her lips. This close in, the scent of the Moroccan oils in the soap she had used filled his senses; Draco must have smelt this all along as he had been whispering seductively in her ear – it was no wonder his own eyelids were heavy.

Hermione’s gaze flickered to Harry’s lips, pausing as if aware that they were about to do something they could never undo; but then her eyes closed and her lips were on his.

It was warm and soft and the sudden pang of raw need in his gut took him by surprise as their lips opened and the kiss deepened. He had known Hermione for so long now that he thought he knew pretty much everything there was to know – but the way her lips moved against his, the way her tongue slid in, all warm and wet and searching, had him re-thinking. His tongue met hers and caressed it, tasting and touching and reaching into her in ways that had them both moaning before long. It was as if the kiss had been bottled up for years, and now that they had let it loose, it was devouring them both. Hermione’s hand became entangled in Harry’s hair, holding his head to hers as the kiss became more urgent, their breaths deteriorating into raw gasps.

Hermione was trying to get closer still now that they had discovered this new intimacy, and Harry could feel the need in her, could sense the urgency with which she was trying to cast off the bane her ex-lover had scarred her with. But it caused him to back off somewhat. Harry wasn’t sure he could handle this. The last thing he wanted was to mess up somehow and end up making the situation worse. He loved Hermione, but he really wasn’t good at the emotional stuff; his upbringing hadn’t exactly been conducive to ensuring his own emotional health, let alone taking on the responsibility of someone else’s. Harry dragged his lips from Hermione’s, disturbed by his thoughts and unsure what his next move should be.

Panting, Hermione stared at Harry’s chest, somewhat stunned at her reaction to the kiss as Harry turned his gaze on Draco.

Draco was watching them, eyes dark and intense, his own breathing strained. Sensing Harry’s doubt, he took over.

He moved in close, brushing Hermione’s hair from her neck as Harry watched. The three of them were so close now, and Harry was struck by the strange, yet utterly enticing, thought that he was about to witness Draco seducing someone.

Hermione’s breath caught at the movement, having temporarily forgotten Draco’s presence. He touched his fingers lightly to the sensitive flesh on her neck, trailing them down to her shoulder. He softly pressed his lips to the exposed skin.

Harry palmed her cheek and she leaned into it with her eyes closed. “Are you all right, Hermione?”

She hummed as Draco gently pulled at the collar of her gown, exposing more of her skin to his questing mouth. His lips crept down her shoulder and back up to her neck, settling on steadfastly suckling the flesh there.

Harry’s erection grew harder as he watched Draco work Hermione’s throat while his hand sought the tie that held her robe together. He had never imagined how hot it could be, watching Draco’s pale fingers questing over someone else’s body. Not just someone, his best friend. But it was incredibly erotic seeing Hermione with her head tipped back like that, her eyes closed and her lips parted, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

And when Draco finally found the tie and pulled, unravelling it easily and letting the material slide apart, exposing her naked front to his eyes, his head spun.

Unfortunately, Hermione had stiffened noticeably, her eyes snapping open as awareness of her sudden vulnerability hit her. Draco’s mouth was already back at her ear, hushing her, his eyes trained on Harry, and Harry realised Draco was expecting him to make the next move.

Hermione glanced at Harry cautiously as he let his gaze wander over her semi-naked body, taking in the long, slim legs that led to her trim curls, the contours of hips, her slightly curved belly, and finally, the lush swell of her breasts. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. Harry stepped nearer, trailing his fingers across the delicate bone above her chest and then down over the smooth rise of flesh until he cupped her breast. His thumb teased the dusky nub as he leaned in just short of kissing her. “So beautiful,” he murmured.

Hermione seemed unable to hold herself back. She keened, suddenly pressing her lips to his and wrapped her arms around his neck, her nipple pebbling taut at his touch. Draco waited only a moment before he murmured that he wanted to see her naked body as well. Unwinding her arms from Harry and coaxing them to relax, he slid the robe from her shoulders.

She kissed Harry even more desperately then, clinging to the one thing that could distract her from the anxiety that threatened to peak after being exposed so dramatically.

She shivered, a strangled sound escaping her throat as Draco ran his hands down her sides. They stopped just past her waist, thumbs digging into the flesh above her arse, fingers grasping her hips as he yanked her back toward him. She groaned as his clothed erection pressed into her arse.

Harry pulled back from the kiss to gain his breath, and to watch what was unfolding.

She was stretched out, her body taut, her arms reaching back to encircle Draco’s neck. The back of her head rested against his shoulder and her arse was thrust back into his crotch and Harry very nearly came right there and then at the sight.

But there was no way he was going to miss out on this.

He stripped as quickly as he could, fumbling with his belt and buttons awkwardly in his haste, yet managing somehow to keep his eyes on Draco and Hermione the whole time.

Draco had his face buried in the crook of her neck, sucking a dark purpling bruise into her pale skin as she writhed in his arms, her head tilted invitingly to the side. Her breaths came quick and heavy as one of Draco’s hands squeezed her breast, while the other rested splayed over her belly.

Harry groaned hungrily. Sounds were coming from Hermione that he had never heard before, and watching Draco take charge – playing with her body and wresting those needy moans from her – made his cock throb. He moved before he’d even consciously made the decision, joining them again – as naked as she was – and with no intention of holding back.

He dropped to his knees in front of her.

Draco caught the movement and stopped marking her neck. He eyed Harry with a raised eyebrow and a smirk playing at his lips. Hermione looked down at Harry as well, gasping as Draco palmed both of her breasts, her nipples rolling under his thumbs. Harry tentatively kissed her belly, circling her navel before dipping his tongue in and trailing it down. He kissed the inside of her hip, and then gripped her thighs firmly as she trembled.

“You’re dying for him to taste you, aren’t you?” Draco taunted. “Can you imagine it, Granger? His hot, wet tongue inside you?”

Hermione whimpered as Harry kissed his way to her mound. He ran a finger along her slit, opening her up gently and easing it between her slick folds. She was so wet and ready that Harry wasted no time; adding another digit he pushed them further, entering her welcoming heat smoothly. Hermione groaned, her legs wobbling as Harry slid his tongue in and along her already swollen clit. Draco caught her around the waist as her legs threatened to give out, and she cried out almost as if in pain as Harry laved her clitoris, his fingers gliding in and out gently, and it wasn’t long before Hermione’s body shuddered as she came, her cries turning to sobs from the pure force of it.

Draco shuffled her languid limbs, trying to get his shirt and trousers off whilst still supporting her. Eventually he managed as she began to recover, and Harry took advantage of the chance to get a good look at him.

He was pale under his clothes, but a healthy blush currently covered parts of his chest and neck. His cock was long and hard, curving slightly towards his belly near the tip. Pale like the rest of him, it stood out proudly; the head flushed pink and a clear drop of fluid seeping from the tip. If Harry hadn’t been kneeling already he would have fallen over, shocked by the sudden urge he had to touch it, to feel it, to take it in on his tongue and taste Draco just as he had Hermione.

Harry glanced up to find Draco watching him intently. Blushing furiously and hoping he hadn’t completely freaked Draco out, Harry lifted himself to his feet. He rubbed his thumb over Hermione's cheek, getting her attention. Her eyes had been closed, nestled as she was into Draco’s shoulder, but at the gesture she opened her eyes questioningly.

“You okay?” Harry really had really never been good with words.

“Mm,” she nodded slightly, her cheeks flushed partly from embarrassment, and Harry kissed her again deeply, letting her know they were all right. They had only separated for a second when he pulled her back in for another kiss or two, not yet ready to let her go, but eventually he had to.

“Take a seat on the bed, Harry.” Draco directed. A spark ran through Harry at the casual order, and he dropped onto the bed. Draco pressed himself to Hermione’s back, leaning in. “Ever wanted to have your cake and eat it, too?”

Hermione caught her lip between her teeth as Draco ran his hands over her. He whispered something and suddenly a bottle of lotion came flying out of the bathroom; he caught it deftly. He shuffled Hermione forward, walking her the few paces to where Harry sat, and then placed a hand in the middle of her back, pushing her to bend over.

“Lay back, Harry. But stay on the edge of the bed,” he urged as Harry lowered himself onto his elbows. Hermione ended up with her thighs pressed against the bed, bent over Harry. Her cheeks blushed pink as she imagined the view Draco must be getting; going by the way his hands began roaming over her arse, she gathered he didn’t mind it one bit.

He leaned heavily over her, bunching the hair off her neck and kissing the hickey he made earlier. “Has anyone ever had your fabulous arse, Granger?”

Her breath hitched at the question, her eyes widening as she shook her head. It wasn’t something she’d ever really considered doing before. She already had one perfectly functioning hole. But one hole just wasn’t going to cut it tonight – not if she wanted to play out this fantasy – and she did want to; she wanted it more than anything.

“All right. I don’t want to hurt you unnecessarily,” he comforted, kissing her shoulder, “So just try and relax.” He trailed kisses up her neck until he reached her ear. “Just do as I say, okay?” She nodded and Draco soothed a hand down her back before straightening, reaching into the container to coat his fingers with lube.

When the first slick finger entered her, she yelped in surprise. It hadn’t actually hurt, but it was a strange and intrusive feeling. She flushed scarlet.

Harry took that as his cue. He leaned up and, brushing some of her unruly curls back, kissed her. What Draco was doing to her right now turned Harry on more than he cared to admit; he didn’t want to risk her changing her mind, so he distracted her as best he could. He trailed kisses along her jaw and down her neck, but when she suddenly cried out he stopped, needing to make sure that she was okay.

Meeting her gaze, he was stunned to see that her eyes were glazed over with lust, not agony. There was pain there too, but nothing to indicate that she wanted to stop. He moved out from under her arms for a better look; two of those long, pale fingers were in delving into her arse, teasing and stretching her carefully, and she closed her eyes and rocked back eagerly as if she couldn’t wait for a third.

Watching Draco stretch her hole, his fingers penetrating and loosening in preparation for his cock was making Harry desperately hard.

He moaned. He couldn’t help it.

Draco looked up then, his eyes fierce as they met Harry’s. Harry thought at first he might be angry; maybe even disgusted that Harry was so obviously turned on from watching him, but just as earlier in the evening, he held Harry’s gaze, this time as he eased another finger into her gently.

“Oh god, Draco.” cried Hermione. She puffed and panted and Harry realised he was needed. He shuffled back under her, placing a hand on her cheek.

“You’re doing so well Hermione,” he whispered, kissing her lightly, “You look so fucking hot … with his fingers in you … you have no idea!” Her cheeks were still flushed with colour as she held Harry’s gaze, gaining strength from his comforting words. Draco leaned down then, forcing her to drop onto her elbows. He placed his mouth at her ear, his eyes also on Harry as Harry laid back flat on the bed.

“In a moment you’re going to straddle Harry and lower yourself onto his cock,” he softly instructed, “I’ll give you a moment to adjust before I enter you from behind. It’s going to hurt. But if you relax the pain won’t last. Can you do that for me?”

She hesitated, but then nodded. Harry groaned. Embarrassingly loudly. Hermione’s eyebrows shot up and Draco’s mouth curved in amusement.

Harry slapped his hands over his face in an effort to hide from their knowing looks, utterly mortified. A few seconds passed where Draco snickered before he spoke again.

“Alright, Granger, mount up.” He slapped her arse cheek lightly as he disposed of the lotion.

Hermione moved up to straddle Harry. There was some awkwardness as she grasped his cock in hand, but she waited until he had uncovered his face before she lowered herself onto it.

Harry clasped her thighs, gasping as the warm, wet heat engulfed him.

It should have been weird. He had known Hermione for more than half his life, and they had never done anything like this before; but somehow it didn’t feel weird. It felt bloody incredible.

Hermione sank down gradually until he was seated all the way inside her. And then she moved. Her hands were pressed to his shoulders as she rode his cock, using them for support and leverage. The heat of her passage was wickedly wet, and Harry gripped her hips so he could control her movements a little better. Hermione threw her head back and groaned, rocking on his cock as desire arced through her.

“Fuck it. I can’t wait any longer.”

Draco suddenly appeared, urging Hermione forward, pushing her to lie across Harry, presenting her arse to him. There was a shift in weight as Draco spread her cheeks apart and lined himself up. Harry held his breath – for what, he didn’t know, until it happened.

Draco’s cock pushed at Hermione’s opening, and Harry could feel it almost as clearly as if there were no barrier between them at all. Draco eased in gently until the head was past the furled ring, and paused. Hermione let loose a string of ‘oh’s, sounding winded and somewhat pained, but Draco gave her a moment before he suddenly pushed forward again, sliding home the rest of the way.

Both Hermione and Harry cried out at the sensation of Draco’s cock pressed tightly into the hole. “Jesus fucking Christ,” Harry panted, and Draco gasped, squeezing his eyes shut in an effort to control himself.

Once Draco was ready, he opened his eyes again, running a soothing palm down Hermione’s back. Hermione was straining to accept the intrusion, visibly trying to relax as she puffed in aide of catching her breath.

In the end it was Draco who moved first. He pulled out slowly and thrust back in forcefully, causing Hermione to gasp and Harry to whimper. Harry had never whimpered in his life, but for some reason the feelings he was experiencing overwhelmed him to an extent that he couldn’t manage anything more coherent. As Draco set up a rhythm, Harry found one that complimented it, thrusting and thumbing Hermione’s clit as the three of them moved together.

As they brought her to the brink, Harry noticed that Draco’s eyes, half hidden by a curtain of hair, were not closed as he had figured, or even focused on Hermione’s back – they were trained on him, piercing and intent and leaving no room for doubt as to what it was he was thinking about – or who. They didn’t shy away as Harry’s gaze fell on him; instead they held his gaze, determined.

Hermione reached her orgasm with a sobbing cry, inner muscles clenching around Harry and Draco both, sending them over the edge one after the other. Once their bodies gave out they collapsed in a heap, and Harry moved Hermione further up the bed, making sure she was comfortable as Draco settled next to him. Hermione murmured her thanks tiredly, snuggling into his chest as Harry stroked her hair. She drifted off with a small smile on her lips.

*

Harry awoke a short time later to someone jostling his shoulder. He blinked up at a bushy head leaning in close. “Hermione?”

“I’m going home, love,” she said softly, petting the side of his face. Harry sat up carefully, aware that Draco was still sleeping next to him.

“Ah, sure. Everything okay?” he asked. Hermione smiled and nodded, though in the moonlight Harry couldn’t tell if she meant it.

“Come over to my place Sunday next. Both of you. I’ll do dinner.”

“Okay.” Harry glanced down at Draco’s sleeping form, his hair glinting silvery in the light, and something strong stirred within him. Hermione’s hand guided his cheek so he was looking at her.

“He feels the same, you know,” she said. Harry swallowed. She smiled and let her hand drop, getting to her feet.

“Watch where you tread out there.” Harry indicated the doorway, lifting his chin.

As she opened the door, letting light spill into the room, Hermione looked over her shoulder. She hesitated for a moment, her lips curving into a smile. “I’m glad I stayed, Harry,” she said before she disappeared into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

Harry felt some of the uncertainty he had been experiencing leave him. He turned to face Draco, propped up on his elbow. Draco was lying on his side, facing him, his eyes fluttering open at the click of the door. They stared at each other for few minutes, blinking, not saying anything, and then Harry leaned towards him. Draco met him halfway, and their lips pressed together.

It was an unexpected experience.

At first it was timid, tentative and unsure, but as they settled into it there were lips and teeth and tongues, and a passion born of emotional extremes. The two who had always dramatically collided, whose souls had entwined for good or for ill, twisted from so many opposites and yet destined on parallel paths, had finally discovered an outlet for their passion.

They took the opportunity to bask in it; gently delving as they shared long, languid kisses, tasting and learning as fingers brushed across hair, cheek and lips.

“I could feel you inside her,” Draco murmured as they separated.

Harry hummed. “And I thought it was just me getting off on that.”

Harry lay back, putting an arm behind his head. “We have dinner with Hermione next weekend. Sunday. Don’t forget.”

“She’s important to you,” Draco conceded soberly.

“I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

Draco snorted good-naturedly. “She was more than okay earlier. Frankly, I never thought we’d get as far as we did. She’s surprisingly hot.”

Harry chuckled. “It might seem like there’s nothing to her other than books, but Hermione’s always had fire in her.”

Draco’s lips twitched. “Quite.”

Just then the door burst open and someone tumbled though it.

“Ah, shite. Wrong feckin' door again!” said a familiar Irish voice.

Harry propped himself up on his elbow. “Seamus?”

Seamus stopped and turned his attention to the bed. His eyes were bleary and red around the edges, and he was obviously having difficulty standing. His eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as his gaze flicked from Harry’s naked torso to Draco’s.

“Well, fuck me.”

Harry blushed. Seamus shook his head as if shaking a hallucination from his mind.
Harry wanted to say something, anything, but before he could Seamus turned back to the door, muttering, “It’s like being down the rabbit hole, this place. First Gin and Looney are at it, and now this. I seriously need to quit drinkin’.”

He left, pulling the door closed behind him.

Draco laughed.

Harry huffed. Draco laughed even harder.

And all was as befuddling as it usually was after an annual ‘Potter’s Piss-up’.

Fin.

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