When Three Become One - H/R/Hr - NC-17
Title : When Three Become One
Threesome : Harry/Ron/Hermione
Words : 4400
Rating : NC-17

Written for triofqf’s Fifth Wave’s First Subwave.

33. Some sort of spell or potion goes horribly awry (yay for Plot Device Magic^TM!), and Harry is left feeling all the physical sensations that Ron does. Ron is, ahem, involved with Hermione, and Harry ends up experiencing their sex life vicariously, which leads to R/Hr becoming H/R/Hr.

Thank you to the Spice Girls for the title – OK, that was Two Become One, who cares.

And, really, considering the prompt, it is barely crack at all.

How odd.

So many thanks to the lovely belovedranger for the squeeful beta.


When Three Become One
****
Unthinkingly, Harry reached for the locket.

The last thing he felt was Ron's hand closing over his and trying to pry his fingers open, before heat flooded his body and everything went black.

<'))))><

He opened his eyes to a ward at St Mungo's and blinked to try and bring the room into focus.

"Harry!" someone squealed and Hermione and Ron appeared at his bedside, hand in hand. She stroked his hair out of his eyes and Ron clumsily slid his glasses onto his face.

"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked.

"M'hand hurts," Harry muttered.

"Well, the locket burnt itself into your skin, mate," Ron said.

Harry lifted his right hand, covered in bandages, and frowned at it. "No," he said. "Other hand. Like something sharp is cutting into it."

Hermione let go of Ron, stepped closer and took his hand, unfurling his fingers and examining his palm.

"I know what you mean, Harry," Ron said, wringing his hand and flexing his fingers behind her back.

"'S better, now," Harry muttered, falling asleep again.

<'))))><

Once he was officially out of danger, Ron and Hermione went home, and Harry spent a few days doped up on painkilling potions. He slept a lot and only vaguely remembered them taking it in turns to visit him.

When he received the all clear, Ron arrived to take him home.

"You OK?" Ron asked, helping him change into the clean clothes he'd brought with.

Harry felt strangely distracted, and flushed as he looked away from his own bare legs.

He was all fingers and thumbs, trying to do up his buttons, and Ron had to do it.

"I'm still a bit out of it," Harry said, frowning.

"You wait until we get you home," Ron said. "Mum has been cooking up a storm for you. You must be sick of hospital food."

Harry, who'd just finished a large, and rather good, breakfast, was suddenly hungry again.

"Ready to go?" Ron asked.

"Absolutely."

"We missed you," Ron said simply.

"Right," Harry scoffed. "Like you didn't take advantage of being alone together."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think that would have been appropriate behaviour, with you on your death bed?" he said severely, picking up Harry's bag and following him out of the room.

"Hermione's attitude, I take it?" Harry laughed.

"Yup," Ron confirmed. "Whereas, I…"

"Spent a week wanking in the shower, thinking of Hermione kneeling at your feet," Harry interrupted, flushing at the vivid image in his head.

"Yeah," Ron said. "How d'you know that?"

"I know you too well," Harry muttered, joining the queue at the Floo point.

<'))))><

They stepped out of the fireplace, and Hermione flew across the room and flung her arms around him.

"Oh, Harry, it's good to have you home," she breathed.

Harry was suddenly aware of her breasts, crushed up against him.

Of course he realised that Hermione had breasts, but he'd never watched them bounce as she ran across the room before. He blushed and accepted her kiss on his cheek, before turning to Ron and catching him ogling his girlfriend's flushed face and heaving chest.

Surrounded on all sides by images of breasts, he was only too pleased to sit down and have a second breakfast.

Ron ate hungrily and Harry found himself piling his plate high and then unable to do more than pick at it.

"Don't you have much of an appetite?" Hermione asked.

"I dunno," Harry said. "I already ate."

He pushed his food listlessly round his plate.

"Why don't you go and lie down?" she said. "This is the first time you've been out of bed for a week."

"Oov owny gus gok ouk ov geg, go koo geg?" Ron said, through a huge piece of sausage.

"What?" Hermione said.

"You've only just got out of bed, go to bed," Harry translated and Ron laughed, sausagely.

Hermione stuck her tongue out.

Harry felt a jolt of arousal. "Actually," he said. "I think I will take a nap, I feel a bit… odd."

He trailed out of the kitchen and up to the room he shared with Ron.

He flopped, face down, onto his bed and closed his eyes, trying to block out the strange thoughts of Hermione.

<'))))><

He awoke from an erotic dream, his heart racing.

It had been so real; it was as if ghostly fingers were wrapped around his cock.

It still felt like ghostly fingers were wrapped around his cock.

He rolled onto his back and stared at his groin.

His cock was achingly hard and trapped inside boxers and denim, but he could feel gentle fingers running up and down his shaft.

Even though his legs weren't spread, a soft hand was cupping his balls, was sliding under his body and squeezing his arse.

He frantically unzipped his jeans and freed his cock.

He glared at it, but it wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary. It was still being stroked, with a rhythm that was just that tiny bit slow, a rhythm that was never going to bring him off, but it was the first time that someone – something – else had touched his cock and he bit his lip and moaned.

He kicked his jeans and boxers off and spread his legs, but the spirit fingers had lost interest in his balls and were moving up his chest; they pinched his nipples and then something hot and wet closed over one and sucked.

Harry never played with his nipples when he wanked, and couldn't understand why they were suddenly so sensitive.

Why he was arching off the bed.

Why, with teeth worrying at his nipple and one more tug on his cock, his climax started rippling through him.

He felt his balls draw up, his cock jerking and spilling over someone's hand.

He looked down his body.

He was turned on, yeah: his cock was rigid, his balls aching.

But he hadn't come.

He reached for his erection, trying to draw a climax out of his body as it was flooded with post-climax lassitude.

He stroked harder, but his cock drooped in his hand, his phantom orgasm having drained his system.

What the fuck was going on?

<'))))><

He took a quick shower, dressed, and wandered downstairs, looking for Ron and Hermione.

He was still feeling a bit grumpy and frustrated and… smug and aroused.

He nearly missed his footing on the staircase and grabbed hold of the banister, closing his eyes and trying to work out what was happening.

There was a girl lying under him, a hot mouth returning his greedy kisses, her hands tangled in his hair.

He was cupping her breast in his hand, his thumb running back and forth over an erect nipple.

He opened his eyes and looked at his hands; they were stationary, before him, but his fingertips tingled as they slid through smooth, wet heat he instinctively recognised.

He took a deep breath and carried on down the stairs, his eyes nervously sweeping the hallway until his head was suddenly filled with a musky scent that brought him to his knees.

Why would a spirit be aroused?

Why would it be pressing down on his head, pushing his face into a heat and aroma that had his cock achingly erect?

He staggered to his feet and opened the door to the sitting room just as his mouth was flooded with the taste of…

Fuck.

He froze in the doorway, watching them.

Hermione was lying on the couch, her skirt up round her waist; Ron was bare chested and kneeling between her thighs; her eyes were closed and she was pressing his face to her and whimpering as he sucked.

Harry could feel Ron's arousal, his pride in making Hermione lose control; he could feel Hermione's fingers in his hair, holding his head down as she rocked against his tongue.

And he could taste her.

He cried out and Ron turned round, his eyelids heavy, his lips wet.

Hermione screamed and tried to cover herself and Ron looked back and forth between them, obviously unsure which one was in a worse state and needed him more.

"Fuck, Harry, I…"

Harry was staring at Hermione; remembering the feeling of her phantom hand wrapped round his cock, no, Ron's cock; her hands and mouth dragging Ron's climax out of him; her smell, her taste.

He whimpered and sank to his knees, closing his eyes and pressing his hand against his erection, finding it subsided swiftly as Ron became more panicked and embarrassed and worried.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, coming to kneel by his side. "Is it your scar? Is Voldemort in your head?"

She stroked his hair out of his face and he looked up at her.

"No," he whispered, his jaw set, his head full of her scent for real. "Not Voldemort."

Ron knelt beside him, one hand between his shoulder blades, radiating concern, but still tasting Hermione on his tongue.

Harry pushed him away.

"Harry, what is it?" he asked, feeling hurt.

"You," Harry breathed. "It's you."

"Harry?" Hermione said.

"Ron," Harry said, not looking at either of them. "Ron is in my head."

Ron shook his head. "I'm not doing anything," he protested.

Harry looked up at him. "You were," he said flatly. "I was woken up by Hermione giving you a hand job."

"What?" Hermione squeaked.

"And she bit your nipple and you came," Harry continued relentlessly, despite their scarlet faces and Ron's feeling of mortification. "And, as I came downstairs, I could feel Hermione beneath your hands; I could smell her, could taste her."

Ron licked his lips automatically.

"Taste?" Ron breathed, and Harry was amazed to feel arousal welling up in him again.

"Stop it, you sick bastard," Harry shouted. "I don't want to feel you getting turned on; I don't want to taste your girlfriend."

Hermione's hands flew to her scarlet cheeks. "Oh, Harry," she breathed. "I am so sorry, but you know we haven't done anything on purpose. It must have been the Horcrux: Ron was touching you when you passed out."

"Just what I need," Harry spat.

"Hey," Ron protested. "This isn't my fault."

"It's just," Harry wilted at the hurt feelings Ron was pumping into him. "Isn't it enough that I have a homicidal maniac in my head, and I can feel him torturing people? Now I have you in there, too and I can feel Hermione stroking your cock."

"Well, you don't have to compare the two like that," Ron complained.

"I just want my own head back, OK?" Harry demanded.

"Well, I don't want to be in your head!" Ron said. "And I really don't want you going down on Hermione."

"Well, I don't want to go down on Hermione!"

"Well, thank you very much!" Hermione snapped.

They both turned to face her.

"I… I didn't... I meant," she stammered. "Oh, you know what I meant!"

They both shrugged.

"And this is a truly ridiculous argument," she said sternly. "Especially after all we've been through."

"Sorry," Harry muttered.

"Yeah, sorry, Hermione," Ron said.

"What we have to do is work out what has happened – and what we are going to do about it."

Ron grabbed his shirt and slipped it back on. "How are we supposed to do that?" he demanded.

Hermione waved him away and turned to Harry, in research mode.

"Is it just sexual feelings you can pick up?" she asked.

Ron glared at her.

"No," Harry said. "I'm picking up irritation."

Ron glared at him.

"What else have you sensed?" Hermione asked.

"I think I've been picking up random emotions – I was suddenly hungry, this morning, when I'd already eaten," Harry said, frowning with concentration.

Hermione snorted. "We really are in trouble," she said. "If you are picking him up every time he is hungry or aroused, well, that is a full time job!"

"Thanks," Ron muttered.

Harry laughed. " I've been feeling a bit off since the explosion, but I just ignored the odd emotions," he explained. "The two of you took it in turns to visit me, so I guess Ron wasn't perving. He'd just be feeling a bit worried, which wasn't very different from what I was feeling. It wasn't until I was woken up by the ghost of a hand job that I realised something was going on!"

"Exactly what did you experience?" she asked, her cheeks flushing faintly as Ron made a strangled noise and stomped round the room.

"Excruciating embarrassment," Harry said, pointing at his best friend.

Hermione laughed. "I don't know why he's embarrassed," she said.

"I… I felt your hand on me… well, I thought it was on me… even though I still had my jeans on," Harry said. "And then you used your… your mouth, on my… chest, and it felt amazing, but my nipples aren't sensitive. And then I felt as if I came, but nothing…. came."

"You felt me come?" Ron demanded, wild eyed.

"What is it with the nipple thing, anyway?" Harry asked him.

"Shut up."

"Ignore him, Harry."

"So I knew something was going on, something was in my head. It wasn't until I got down here, and saw Ron… and tasted... sorry."

"It's OK."

"No it isn't," Ron complained. "It's creepy."

"It could be worse," Hermione pointed out.

"How, exactly?"

"It could be the other way around," she snapped. "Harry is being an adult about this; how would you like to taste it when he's with Ginny?"

Ron went scarlet.

"I haven't," Harry said, holding both hands up in front of him, trying to stay calm and placate a furious Ron as he felt his anger and… jealousy. "We never did anything like that, Ron, I promise. And what have you got to be jealous about, anyway? You're the one with the sex life."

"Not anymore, I'm not," Ron complained. "Not if we've started selling tickets. And stop feeling me."

"Harry, try blocking him with Occlumency," Hermione said, leaning closer and peering at her furious boyfriend.

"He's not breaking into my head; he can't see what I'm thinking. He's just in there."

"Like a sort of…"

"Anti-Horcrux," Ron said.

They both looked at him.

"Well," he said. "You're worried that You Know Who made you an accidental Horcrux when he tried to kill you. How about, I saved you from being killed when the Horcrux exploded and that left something protective inside you."

"But you didn't mean to," Harry protested.

"Well, he didn't mean to, either."

They both looked at Hermione.

"I don't know," she said. "It's… it's about love, isn't it?"

Ron blushed and Harry felt his embarrassment and blushed, too.

"You saved Harry because you love him," she said seriously. "And Dumbledore said that Voldemort didn't understand love."

"Yeah, but he meant the concept, not the taste!" Harry protested.

Hermione flushed.

"You know what," Ron said. "You have coped so badly with feeling me and Hermione together, just imagine what it'd do to You Know Who."

He laughed, and Harry and Hermione looked at each other.

"If I could… connect the Ron to the Voldemort, in my head," Harry said slowly.

"Let him see what love feels like," she said.

"Oh, right," Ron said. "What do I have to do while you fight You Know Who? Have Hermione go down on me to confuse him. I'm not having her give You Know Who even a ghost of a blow job."

"Honestly," she protested. "You don't have to have sex in the middle of a battle; but what if you were focussing on how much you love Harry?"

"I don't love Harry," Ron protested.

"Of course you do," she scoffed. "And there is no point in denying it, because he can feel it."

Ron looked horribly embarrassed and wouldn't look at Harry.

"'S OK," Harry said. "And it's not like I'd know what it was, anyway."

"What?" Hermione gasped.

He blinked at her. "I… it's OK, Hermione. I just," he shrugged. "Well, it's not just Voldemort who has never been loved, is it?"

"Harry James Potter," she spat. "How dare you say that?"

"I know," he said, recoiling. "Of course, my parents…"

"Not your parents," she interrupted

"Not?"

"Well, yes, your parents, of course they did. But how can you think that Ron and I don't love you?"

"What? I never…"

"Don't you love us?"

"I… what? I don't… how would I know?"

She frowned. "Ron," she said, turning on her skulking boyfriend. "You're going to have show him how you feel."

"You're not serious," he said flatly.

"I think that this is important," she said. "And not just as a weapon against Voldemort. You grew up surrounded by love, and Harry didn't. It's one more thing you have to teach him."

"He's not stupid, Hermione," Ron snapped. "It's… it's just the same as how he feels about us."

"But we have this chance to show him exactly how you feel," she said. "I… I'd love to really know how you feel about me."

"Oh, for god's… Hermione!" Ron spluttered to a halt and looked at Harry through his fringe. "Look, of course, we love you," he said, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

Harry watched him, feeling his embarrassment turn to a wonderful, deep glow, which made his heart ache, before Ron got confused and embarrassed and aroused again and left the room, slamming the door.

Hermione sighed. "I don't know why he's being so petulant about this. I'm sorry, Harry."

"He… he was embarrassed."

"Well, he shouldn't be," she snapped. "Of course he loves you; no one is going to be surprised about it."

"He, um," Harry frowned. "He was getting aroused again." He closed his eyes. "He still is," he said. "And now he's angry."

"Aroused?" she said. "When he thought about you?"

"No," Harry said, swiftly. "He must have been thinking of both of us. He loves both of us, that was your point, right?"

"Maybe not," she said slowly.

"What?"

"You said he felt jealous when I mentioned you and Ginny," she pointed out. "Well, he wouldn't be jealous of you being with her. But we know our Ron; just how jealous would he be of his sister if she had what he wanted?"

Harry scoffed. "He doesn't want me, Hermione," he said.

"What did you feel?" she asked. "Why was he so embarrassed?"

Harry frowned. "You shouldn't have pushed him," he muttered. "He's furious."

"That settles it," she said. "He's furious because we have stumbled on his deep, dark secret."

"You're really not helping," Harry protested.

"How do you feel about this?" she asked.

"What?"

"How would you feel about Ron having romantic feelings for you? Because, if you're not interested, then the only problem is calming him down."

Harry flinched. "Look, you don't have to hold back, Hermione. I've seen how you get when you're jealous over him. Just hex me."

She waved that away. "That is not the same thing," she said dismissively. "Snogging Lavender when he didn't even fancy her is one thing; this is you."

"Yeah, anything for the Chosen One," he muttered.

She smacked him round the head. "Anything for you, Harry," she said.

"You can't give me your boyfriend," he said.

"No, but I'd share him," she said.

He raised an eyebrow.

"I wasn't joking about him being aroused twenty-four hours a day; there'd be plenty to go around."

"Hermione!" Harry blushed.

"If you want him, that is," she said calmly. "You got very upset about experiencing us having sex; was that because it was me, or because it was Ron?"

"I… I was confused," he said slowly. "Because I was suddenly having such intense sexual thoughts about you, and I never had before."

"Well, it's nice to know how he feels about me, even if it's you telling me about it," she said. "But how did you feel about experiencing someone else's orgasm?"

"It was scary, at first, not knowing who was coming."

"And when you realised it was Ron?"

"It was… oh, fuck it, it was hot."

They looked at each other.

"So, what I propose is this," Hermione said briskly. "We both go up there and ravish him. He'll be OK, once he realises he hasn't humiliated himself. And then we can discuss what this means for facing Voldemort."

"I wish he wasn't part of our sex life," Harry sighed.

"So, we have a sex life?"

"Is this just a one off, to calm Ron down?" he asked.

"No," she said simply. "I think we should be a couple."

"Three people can't be a couple, Hermione," he said.

She shrugged. "I don't care."

"Nor do I."

<'))))><

They went upstairs and stopped outside Ron's closed bedroom door.

"What is he feeling?" Hermione asked.

"Still angry; embarrassed, scared." Harry sighed. "He's gonna go on the offensive, as soon as we go in there; he's not going to give us a chance to explain we're all a couple, now."

"So, we don't give him a chance to," she said.

"We can't ravish him while he shouts at us."

"So," she shrugged. "We'll ravish each other; that should shut him up."

Harry laughed. "Superb plan," he said. "Do we know our boy, or what?"

He pushed the door open and followed Hermione as she walked briskly over to his bed and enlarged it with a flick of her wand.

Ron had sat up, ready to complain and bluster and shout and Harry felt his anger turn to confusion as Hermione lay down on his bed and pulled him down with her.

He bent his head and kissed her, and it felt new and wonderful and familiar, and not just because he'd felt Ron tasting her kisses, but because she was his Hermione.

"Is this OK?" he asked her, running one hand up her smooth stomach to stop just beneath her breast.

"No!" Ron shouted, stalking across the room to stand over them.

"Yes," Hermione breathed, pulling him down for another kiss and opening her legs as he moved over her and pressed his knee between them.

He felt her tongue in his mouth and her hands on his back and Ron spitting nails behind him.

He tried very hard to concentrate on kissing the pretty girl beneath him on his bed, but would have been conscious of the angry wizard looming over them, even if he hadn't been able to feel the fury coming off him in waves.

"He's really angry," he whispered into Hermione's mouth.

"Sod him," she whispered back, tipping her head to the side so he could suck on her neck.

"What fucking point do you fucking think you are fucking making?" Ron shouted.

Hermione looked steadily at him. "Cutting out the middle man?" she suggested.

"Fuck," Harry muttered, cringing against her and waiting for Ron to hex them.

But Ron's anger left him and he sagged and sat on the end of the bed.

Hermione ignored him, pulling Harry's shirt off and running her fingers up his chest. "So, really no nipple thing?" she asked, after twiddling them for a minute.

"No," he said. "Nothing like Ron's."

"I'm right here," Ron muttered.

Harry ran his thumb over her nipple and she gasped. "Or yours," he murmured, against her neck.

She laughed and unzipped his trousers, her hand slipping into his boxers.

"Right here, Hermione," Ron moaned. "Look, I'm sorry I got angry, but I haven't done anything to deserve this."

Hermione pouted up at Harry. "Not very flattering to a girl," she said, stroking him inside his trousers.

"Oh god," he muttered. "I… I don't think I can."

"I should think not," Ron snapped.

"Not with Ron feeling so sorry for himself."

"You're kidding," Hermione said. "So both of you have to be aroused?"

Harry shrugged.

"I'd hoped you could take it in turns," she complained.

"Very funny," Ron said.

"I lost my erection before, when Ron came," Harry said. "I was all sleepy, as soon as he was."

Hermione frowned. "This is going to be more complicated than I thought, if you're both going to want to climax."

"I just have to come first," Harry said thoughtfully. "What's his stamina like?"

Ron grabbed him by the arm, pulled him off Hermione and threw him to the floor. "What the fuck is going on?" he demanded.

"Don't man handle Harry," Hermione snapped, sitting up on the bed and glaring at him.

"Well, why is he fucking my girlfriend?"

"He can't," Hermione pointed out. "Not unless you let him get aroused."

"What?" Ron squeaked.

"So," Hermione continued relentlessly. "Will you please just admit that you want both of us, and come to bed?"

Ron looked wildly between her determined face and Harry's worried one. "B-both?" he stammered.

"Well, we both want you," Hermione said calmly. "And poor Harry cannot do it when you're flooding him with anger."

"Both?" Ron echoed.

"We have a lot to work out, Ron," she said. "I know you promised Bill you'd see to my needs first…"

"Shut up, Hermione."

"…but it seems you'll have to make sure that Harry climaxes before you, too."

"You’re serious?" he asked weakly.

"Deadly," Hermione said.

"Harry?" he said, not looking Harry in the eye.

"I can feel it, Ron, you do want to."

"And it's OK?" Ron asked.

"Why wouldn't I want to be with my two favourite people in the world?" Harry said. "Especially when I can feel what you do for each other."

"You mean it?" Ron said, falling to his knees beside Harry on the floor. "I mean me, 'cos you know, I'm not surprised you want Hermione."

"I mean it," Harry said firmly, taking Ron's hand.

"And he never looked at me like that, Ron," Hermione assured him, joining them on the carpet. "Not until he saw me how you do. It's you, really."

"Me?"

"Well, I seem to have a thing for red hair and freckles," Harry said, flushing.

"So I haven't buggered everything up?" Ron demanded.

"Not yet," Hermione said. "Although that had better be an idea you are comfortable with, if we're inviting Harry into our bed."

Harry gasped.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Just you wait," he told him. "She takes the piss about me being sex mad, but you won't believe the animal she's turned into."

"Why d'you think I want both of you?" she asked, smiling and taking their hands.

"So you can watch the two of us, together?" Harry suggested and then jumped at the surge of arousal he felt from Ron. "Wow!"

Hermione looked at Ron's flushed face. "So," she said, briskly. "Until we get the hang of things, I suggest that Harry makes me come, then you make Harry come, then I make you come."

"Sounds… fair," Ron whispered, weakly.