An Us - H/R/H - R
Title : An us.
Author : shocfix
Threesome : Harry/Ron/Hermione
Words : 2300
Rating : Rish – no actual smut, I’m afraid.

Written for the triofqf’s 4th Round.

My challenge : Two of the Trio suspect that the third may be cheating on them.

I really thought I could write HBP compliant Trio, but apparently not, so this is a sequel to my story For Both of Them, written for the magical_menage Threesome FQF.

It's a tad plotty, so I will wait while you go and read it….

…OK, you're back?

Good.

Many thanks, as always, to magicofisis, who tamed my punctuation and made me balance out their relationship a bit better – I have an awful tendency for Harry and Hermione to worship teh Ron and not touch each other!


An us
****
We barely had time to feel smug that the ritual had worked, or awkward that we'd had sex, as the Death Eaters' watches were running fast that year and they attacked the school early in the summer term.

After all the death and destruction – though thankfully not of anyone close to us – the NEWTs and OWLs were postponed and the school closed.

Harry and I moved a terribly frustrated Hermione into a small flat in Hogsmeade and we were too busy sorting out the rest of our lives to worry about our love lives.

She put on a brave face, but I knew that leaving school NEWTless was driving her crazy.

We were supposed to sit them in the autumn some time, if we wanted to, but the professors were pressing letters of recommendation on any seventh years who wanted one. Hermione, of course, had such glowing recommendations that the departments at the Ministry were tripping over each other to get hold of her.

Harry and I started Auror training, the Ministry having waived any qualification requirements for anyone who wanted to join the fight.

Hermione started working as an Unspeakable and our long hours, plus the fact that she was one of very few people who insisted on finishing our NEWTs, meant that we rarely saw her.

On Christmas Eve, Harry and I were sitting in our tiny lounge with an open bottle of butterbeer each, trying to unwind after a hellish week of physical combat training. We'd barely had the energy to shower and put on clean clothes. Harry, at least, had managed to find some jeans, though he was bare-chested. I'd grabbed boxers and a t-shirt.

And maybe this wasn't such a good idea, because I was gazing at his chest and I know he was staring at my bare legs.

See, the sex thing? Hadn't happened since we completed the ritual. Not with Harry, and not with Hermione, either. And I was pretty sure they weren't carrying on behind my back.

Auror training was exhausting; Hermione was never home when we were, as Harry and I had been on the night shift for the past few weeks.

But I was eighteen. I was, even if I say so myself, in pretty good shape physically, what with all this training.

This sweaty physical training, and they always put me and Harry together.

He was gorgeous when he fought to the death. Focused. Intense. Hot. Sweaty.

Damn.

I was pretty sure I was ready for a proper three-way relationship.

I snorted in my head. Yes, I was ready for the traditional stone cottage in the Cotswolds, with roses around the door and my male and female lovers waiting inside for me.

The works.

But I was worried we'd missed our chance; worried that they both thought of what we'd done as just for the spell. And I know it makes me sound like a bigheaded arse, but I was pretty much caught in the middle.

Even apart from the spell, I thought they'd both wanted me, but they hadn't made a move since.

Harry's hands would be all over me in training, but it didn't distract him, he still won our bouts, still pinned me to the floor, so maybe he wasn't interested anymore.

And Hermione. I don't think she'd touched me since.

And there was something else.

Something I hadn't told Harry yet.

I cleared my throat. "I think Hermione might be cheating on us," I said.

Harry looked startled. "Us?" he echoed.

"I've seen her lunching with Terry Boot three times this week," I explained.

"Us?" he repeated.

"And, before you say that no-one has an affair in the Ministry canteen, they looked awfully cosy – heads together whispering."

"Us?"

"Will you stop saying that, Harry?" I complained. "I'm trying to explain something important here."

"But how could she be cheating on 'us'?" he asked softly.

"Well, he was in Ravenclaw, wasn't he?" I mused. "I was always secretly scared she'd go for the really brainy type. I mean, look at us! Half naked and drinking – that's how we relax – I bet Hermione and Terry are still at work, laughing over some Latin joke in a fourteenth century manuscript."

Harry shook himself, like a dog coming out of the lake. "OK," he said slowly. "Putting aside the fact that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Terry is gay, and that he had the hugest crush on you all through school, so he obviously goes for the athletic, rather than academic sort, anyway."

"What?" I gasped.

Harry ignored me. "And putting aside the fact that Hermione would never, ever cheat on anyone. What do you mean 'us'?"

"You and me, us," I explained.

"Hermione is cheating on you and me?"

"Well, clearly not, not if Terry is gay," I said. "So, that's a relief," I stood up to fetch another butterbeer, but Harry grabbed my arm and pulled me back down beside him.

"Ron," he said painfully. "We aren't an us, are we? You and Hermione are an us."

"We're as much of an us as we are," I floundered.

"What does that even mean?" he asked.

"The three of us. Are an us. Aren't we?" I finished uncertainly.

Harry looked stunned. "I thought… I assumed that you and Hermione were together, since… you know…"

"Oh," I said, feeling rather stupid. "I assumed we were all together."

"Oh," he said. "But we haven't done anything."

"We’ve been busy."

We stared at each other.

"You didn't say anything," he pointed out.

"I didn't think I needed to," I shrugged. "We'd just shagged."

Harry snorted. "Because Hermione told us to! But I know how you feel about her, Ron. You don't have to include me anymore. I feel awkward even being here sometimes."

"You stupid bastard!" I snapped and he flinched. "We only… she… we… the whole point was so we could live here, together, safely."

"Exactly," he said in a very small voice. "To protect me, not because either of you wanted to. Not because you wanted us all to be together."

"Because we love you, you idiot!" I shouted. "D'you think we'd have done that for just anybody?"

Harry looked bewildered.

"It wasn't just for the ritual, OK?" I said. "I didn't just… it wasn't just shagging, was it? You… I…"

"You kissed me," he whispered.

"Yes."

"I… I thought… I hoped…" he made a strange, choked sound. "I didn't dare hope…"

"It was for you, not for the spell," I muttered.

"But it was only the one time, Ron," he looked so confused, so hopeful and I grabbed hold of him and pulled him close.

"Ron," he whispered against my neck as I rested my cheek on his hair. "Really? How can you want us both?"

"I'm a greedy bastard," I joked and he laughed, although slightly hysterically.

There was a popping sound in the hall and a soft, "oh," from the doorway and Harry tried to pull away, but I held him in place.

Hermione came and stood before us.

"Hermione," I said, "what stupid assumptions have you made since the ritual?"

She bristled. "Stupid?" she demanded.

"Well," I explained. "Harry assumed that you and I were together, and that he gets in the way."

She flushed. "So did I," she whispered.

Harry made a sad, resigned little noise. "See?" he said. "It's no use."

Hermione knelt before us. "No, Harry," she said. "The two of you. I thought you didn't need me."

"Are you crazy?" Harry asked. "Ron's straight – he's been in love with you for ever."

"Well," she sighed, "for a straight man to do what he did with you, Harry, well, he wasn't thinking of me, he was making love to you."

"But d'you still want to be with him?" he asked gently.

"Yes," she blushed. "And do you?"

"Yes, of course."

"Oh. Well," she looked sad.

"Oh, for God's sake, what's wrong with you?" I demanded. "The whole point was to do it together. To be together!"

They both flinched.

"Ron?" she asked, wide eyed. "Is that what you want? Both of us? Together?"

"Together. Separately. Both of you. Yes," I replied.

"You didn't say," she breathed.

"Well, I sort of assumed," I said. "What with the whole three-in-a-bed thing. But I guess I’m the only one that wants that…”

“No,” she said sharply.

I laughed at her vehemence. “You want us, Hermione?” I teased.

“Yes,” she said, lifting her chin and looking me straight in the eye.

“Harry?” I asked, giving him my best puppy-dog look.

“Yes,” he said. “I do.”

“Now?” I asked eagerly.

They both laughed. “Now?” Hermione asked.

“Now!” I said. “We’ve wasted eight months. Bed, now.”

I hauled them to their feet and dragged them into Hermione’s room, knowing it would be the tidiest.

We stood and looked at the narrow bed, in the tiny room.

“Not here,” she said, wildly. "I can enlarge the bed, but wouldn't like to move the walls."

We laughed and rushed down the hall to my and Harry's room.

Hermione wrinkled her nose at the mess, at the dirty clothes we'd left on the floor after coming back from work.

"Not here," Harry said, grabbing a clean shirt from the wardrobe and throwing a pair of jeans at me.

"I don't want to get dressed, Harry," I pouted. "I want to get naked."

Harry laughed, his eyes sparkling. "Give me five minutes and Apparate to the Three Broomsticks," he said.

"I'm not thirsty," I complained.

"I'll book a room, you idiot," he explained, coming closer and kissing me softly.

Then he vanished.

I looked at Hermione. "Is this OK, Hermione?" I asked, scrambling into my jeans. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," she smiled. "Why wouldn't I want my boys?"

"But you and Harry…"

"Will work things out," she interrupted, and Apparated.

I took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down. This was all my fault, I hoped I didn't mess things up. Then I Apparated.

Harry was standing at the bar, talking to Madam Rosmerta, who had tinsel in her hair. She gave me a wide smile as I approached and Harry smirked at me, knowing I still had a bit of a thing for her. She automatically handed me a butterbeer and I know I blushed. Hopefully at the thought that she didn't realise what I had planned for my evening.

She turned to serve someone else and I whispered to Harry, "Where's Hermione?"

"Well, she came home from work and walked straight in on us. I thought she'd like to shower before we go up." He blushed.

"Very considerate, I'm impressed." We looked at each other for a few seconds. "I'm pretty sure she's clean now," I said.

"And wet," he added.

We headed swiftly for the stairs and raced and shoved each other as we ran up to the room.

We skidded to a halt outside the room and I knocked softly. Hermione came to the door wrapped in a towel, her hair dripping everywhere. "I'm still wet," she complained as I pushed her towards the bed and Harry locked the door.

"Good," I growled and her eyes opened wide.

"Ron," she said, pulling away from me, "we haven't even discussed how we're going to do this."

"No discussing," I said. "Last time was awful for you, so we're going to take care of you."

"It wasn't awful," she frowned. "What we were doing was important."

"Possibly," I said. "But Harry and I came twice each and you didn't come at all."

Harry sniggered.

Hermione scowled. "We are not going to keep score, Ron," she said.

"Well, no, not for ever," I said.

They both blinked at me. "For ever?" Hermione asked.

"What?" I said, looking back and forth between them.

"For ever?" Harry asked.

"What's wrong with 'for ever'?" I said.

"This is 'for ever'?" Hermione asked.

"It's us," I said, as if it was obvious. "After everything we've been through together, it can't just be a fling, can it?"

They looked at each other and my heart fell. "Can it?"

"No," said Hermione, shaking her head slowly. "Not a fling."

I turned to Harry. "Harry?" I asked.

"Well," he said. "The 'for ever' isn't a problem, it's just that I … I don't usually go for women."

I snorted. "Well, I don't usually go for blokes, do I?" I demanded. "But it's us."

"It's us," he echoed as Hermione pulled us both down to lie with her.

****
It wasn't perfect.

Although I utterly adored her, Harry and I didn't have much of an idea what to do to please Hermione, though we tried our best, and she was a patient teacher; Harry and Hermione were still a little awkward together, though it was better when we both touched her at the same time.

And Harry and I? Watching his face now that he knew I meant it was simply wonderful. Touching him now that I'd realised how I felt about him was a revelation.

It wasn't perfect, but it was wonderful.

Afterwards Hermione asked us how we had finally been in each other's arms when she came home.

"I was telling him I thought you were cheating on us," I explained with a grin.

"Cheating on you?" she spluttered. "I would never… I mean, even if I didn't actually realise that we were together," Harry sniggered, "but I would never… who did you think I was seeing, anyway?"

"Terry," I muttered,

Hermione bit her lip. "Oh, my," she said.

Harry sniggered again.

"Well, I suppose I have been seeing rather a lot of him," she said, trying not to giggle.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Well, Terry and I have rather a lot in common," she said, with as much dignity as she could muster through the laughter she was holding in.

I raised a cynical eyebrow.

"We have been consoling each other," she explained, looking at where my hand rested on Harry's hip. "Because we both thought that you were sleeping with Harry."