Need - H/R/Hr - NC-17
Title : Need
Author : shocolate
Threesome : Harry/Ron/Hermione
Words : 5000
Rating : NC-17

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

30. A powerful spell has unexpected consequences for all three of them.

I deeply apologise for this story.

There is not enough substantial Triofic in the world, and I could have written something plotty.

Well, there is a Horcrux.

But I woke up with a fully-formed crack!bunny, that could fit this prompt, and you lovely people have done nothing to deserve it.

Crack.

Total crack.

I am sorry.

So many thanks to magicofisis for going beyond the call and betaing the blasted thing.

5000 words of crack.


Need
****
The Horcrux was where they had hoped it would be, sitting in a niche in the wall of a well in the ancient kitchens of Malfoy Manor.

They had snuck through the wards by draping themselves in Harry's Quidditch cloak from fifth year, still bloodstained from his brawl with Malfoy, after the Gryffindor versus Slytherin match.

Harry smiled fondly at his memory of the look on Ron's face when he came up with the plan.

They had reached the kitchen without problem, but they didn't dare use magic to reach the Cup, for fear that they'd attract the attention of the Death Eaters in the Hall upstairs.

They had ended up dragging one of the heavy wooden tables over to the well; Ron had hooked his legs round it and lain down, holding Harry by his ankles as he hung head-downwards in the well.

Hermione kept up a whispered chant of "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon."

Harry's fingers had just closed around the cup and Ron was straining to haul him up, when Hermione screamed.

The boys struggled upright to find her being held by the hair by Lucius Malfoy, his wand against her throat.

"Let her go," Harry said, in a low voice.

"Or what?" Malfoy drawled.

"It's me you want," Harry insisted.

"Well, I certainly don't want to dirty my hands on your filthy Mudblood."

He held her away from his body with a look of distaste on his pale face; Ron shouted and lunged forwards; Hermione twisted and kicked Malfoy in the shins; Harry raised his wand; Malfoy hissed Suscito Infinitus and red light knocked Hermione to the floor; Ron reached Malfoy and slammed him against the wall, punching him hard in the gut and knocking his breath from him.

Harry knelt at Hermione's side and rolled her over. "Ron, stop," he shouted. "We have to get out of here, she's hurt."

Ron looked round, wild eyed and nodded; with an uppercut to the face, he knocked Malfoy out cold and flung him to the floor, then he stooped to gather Hermione in his arms and followed Harry from the room.

They sprinted across the grounds, Ron clutching Hermione to his chest and Harry clutching the Horcrux.

Harry stopped, abruptly. "The wards," he hissed. "I left the cloak in the kitchen."

Ron shifted Hermione in his arms and smeared Malfoy's blood from his knuckles onto her cheek and Harry's.

"Worth a try," Harry admitted, stepping through the wards and slumping with relief at finding he was unharmed.

Ron followed him and they both Disapparated.

<'))))><

Back at Grimmauld Place, Ron laid Hermione gently on her bed and took off her shoes as Harry frantically Flooed Remus.

Ron was hovering, nervously over her, his wand in hand. "Should I try and wake her?" he asked.

"I don't know," Harry said. "I don't know what the curse was. She seems comfortable enough; maybe we should wait for Remus. I don't want her to wake up and be in pain; we should wait and see if there is a counter curse, or a potion or something."

Ron nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed, talking her limp hand in his and stroking it gently.

Harry stood behind him, his hands on Ron's shoulders.

With a whoosh, Remus stepped into the room. "What happened?" he asked.

"We got the Horcrux," Harry said. "But Malfoy hexed Hermione with something, and we had to get out pretty quickly."

"A curse?" Remus asked, sitting on the far side of the bed and putting his hand on her forehead.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Suscito something."

"Excite?" Remus said, frowning. "She's out cold, not excited."

"Suscito Infinitus," Ron said.

"Shit," Remus whispered.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"Infinitely excited," Remus said. "I've heard of it. Sirius talked about it. His great-uncle used to torture Muggle women with it."

"And?" Ron prompted.

"And we had better keep her asleep, while I read up on it," Remus said. "And stop touching her."

Ron dropped her hand as if scalded. "What'll it do to her? Does it hurt?"

"It." Remus swallowed. "It's a good thing she's asleep. It… It's not so much infinitely excited as… aroused."

"What?" Ron squeaked.

"Aroused for ever?" Harry asked.

"No," Remus said. "We have to keep her asleep, and unaroused. Because, if she did get aroused, well, then you would have to keep her aroused."

"Or?" Harry said.

"Or it would kill her."

"You cannot be serious," Harry said.

"So, you mustn't touch her, just in case."

Harry and Ron looked at each other.

"In case she enjoys it," Harry said weakly.

"You can not be serious," Ron said.

"I am going to go and look up counter curses," Remus said. "You are going to monitor her."

"How?" Ron asked nervously.

Remus took out his wand and pointed it at Hermione. He cast a Charm and a soft yellow glow surrounded her.

"Keep an eye on her," he said. "Let's hope she doesn't dream of anything too erotic, or the field will turn orange."

"And then what?" Harry asked.

"Well, then she will have to stay aroused, stay orange, but not too aroused, or she will glow red as she climaxes."

"Why is there a Charm for this?" Harry demanded.

Remus sighed. "It's a bit of an unofficial charm," he muttered. "Sirius developed it."

"Sirius? Why on earth?" Harry asked.

"We used to cast it on your dad's bed," Remus admitted. "Then we'd know when he was, well, touching himself, so, no matter how quiet he was being, we could all call out your mum's name when he came."

"That's brilliant," Ron said and Harry glared at him. "Well, not the bit about your mum, but that's fabulous magic."

"Anyway," Remus said. "Hermione. If she glows orange, you have to be prepared to keep her aroused."

"Keep her…" Ron trailed off, wide eyed.

"Touch her," Remus said.

"Her hand?" Ron asked hopefully.

Remus looked at him. "And that would keep her aroused, would it?"

Ron shook his head.

"I will be as quick as I can," Remus said heavily. "You should take it in turns to get some rest; if she needs it, you can take shifts to caress her. And don't forget to use a lubricant or she'll get sore. And don't get too carried away; remember, aroused, but not climaxing."

He stepped back into the Floo and Harry and Ron gaped at each other.

<'))))><

They sat at the end of her bed, talking in whispers.

"We can't do this," Ron said.

"We can't let her die!"

"Remus has lost his marbles," Ron insisted. "He can't really expect us to… touch her."

"Do you really think he's playing a joke on us?" Harry demanded.

"Fred and George would," Ron muttered.

"Maybe we should just wake her up and explain what we have to do," Harry suggested.

"She would go insane," Ron moaned. "Can't you just imagine it?"

"But she'd be too angry to get aroused," Harry pointed out.

"But then it'd be out there," Ron said.

"What would?" Harry asked.

"Sex," Ron whispered. "We'd have used the word, and we wouldn't be able to forget about it, and we wouldn't be able to look at each other, and there'd be all this tension."

Harry blinked.

"I'm sure it's best to keep her asleep, as long as possible," Ron said firmly.

"Yeah, she's not likely to get aroused in her sleep, is she?" Harry said nervously.

Ron raised an eyebrow. "What if she… dreams about me?" he asked, flushing.

Harry sniggered. "Or someone sexy," he suggested.

Ron snorted. "Look, if she has a… sex dream," he swallowed hard, "and the thing turns orange, then we'll have to do it."

"Touch her."

"Yes."

"Should we undress her?"

"What, now?" Ron looked terrified.

"I don't know," Harry snapped. "Look, we'll wait for her to turn orange, and then we can Banish her clothes."

"I don’t think we should waste time," Ron said. "Let's tuck her in and Banish her clothes under the covers, and then we'll have easy access, if she turns orange."

Harry nodded earnestly and they went and stood on either side of the bed.

"Right," he said, and pulled a blanket over Hermione's unconscious body.

Ron took out his wand and lifted a corner of the blanket; he took a deep breath and cast a Banishing charm, dropping the sheet before he could get an eyeful of naked Hermione.

"Bloody, buggering hell," he muttered, sitting beside Harry on the floor. "This is too weird."

Harry tipped his head back and closed his eyes. "Look," he said. "You… you're gonna go first, right?"

"Me?" Ron squeaked.

"Well, yeah," Harry said. "You and Hermione are, well, you know."

"I've kissed her," Ron said miserably. "I have never stroked her for hours at a time, 'making sure she is well lubricated'. Fuck."

Harry groaned. "Hours?" he said.

Ron shrugged. "Well, Remus said sleep in shifts, finger her in shifts. Shifts!"

Harry looked scared. "I can't," he said. "I just can't."

They looked at each other.

"How arousing is, you know, playing with her… tits?" Harry asked.

"I've never," Ron muttered.

"How about Lavender?"

Ron flushed. "Um, well, yeah, I guess."

"So, anyway," Harry said briskly. "How about I go for her," he mimed breasts, "and see if that is good enough. And only try the fingering as a last resort?"

Ron blinked. "I am not having this conversation," he said.

Harry huffed. "Look," he said. "I'm just trying to set boundaries, here. She's your girlfriend, so I didn't want you to get all… territorial."

They looked at each other.

Ron sighed. "Look, Harry," he said. "It's us. You do whatever it takes, right? We are never gonna talk about this, with anyone but Remus, and I am not telling my mum that Hermione died because I wouldn't let you touch her… area."

Harry sat back and leant his head against Ron's shoulder. "Maybe Remus'll get back before she wakes up."

"In which case," Ron said. "We never tell Hermione about this conversation, either."

<'))))><

Harry was asleep on the couch and Ron was sitting on the end of the bed, knees drawn up under his chin, when Hermione's head started tossing on her pillow.

Ron leant closer, frowning, hoping she wasn't in any pain.

"Hmmm," she muttered. "Please."

She pulled her arms out from below her blankets, which Ron hastened to adjust to keep her breasts covered.

She flung one arm back above her head. "Ron," she murmured, her eyelids fluttering.

"Hermione?" he whispered, leaning closer, but she was still asleep.

And she was starting to glow oranger.

"Oh, god, oh god, oh god," Ron muttered.

She smiled in her sleep and murmured his name again.

Ron blushed.

Hermione hit orange and the Charm throbbed.

"Right," he muttered to himself. "I can do this. I always wanted to know if Hermione dreamt about me, this is excellent."

He adjusted the blankets, from the bottom of the bed, uncovering her up to her waist.

"Oh my god," he whispered, settling beside her and propping himself up on one elbow. "I'm so sorry, Hermione."

He reached out and carefully parted her curls, running a finger through her folds.

Hermione murmured and spread her thighs.

"Wow," he whispered.

He grabbed his wand and murmured Lubricus, letting the warm gel drip down onto her.

Hermione hummed.

Silently thanking his older brothers for having tormented him with pornographic magazines for many years, he gently touched her, circling her clit with his fingertip.

He hadn't realised she would move, and the breath caught in his throat as her hips echoed his circles.

This should be the greatest moment of his life; would be what he'd dreamt of for years, if Hermione was actually awake, and knew he was touching her; wanted him to touch her.

As it was, she was going to kill him.

Ron closed his eyes, deciding that watching his fingers sliding over her was even more intrusive.

He rested his head on his other hand and exhaled, his fingers moving in gentle hypnotic circles, almost sending himself to sleep, as well.

<'))))><

By the time he had been caressing Hermione for two hours, he hated his life.

What should have been his first sexual experience had been totally ruined.

When he should have been watching her face as she came, he was watching the colour of her Monitoring Charm, keeping her orange, and nowhere near red.

When he should have been marvelling at how her body reacted to his touch, at how wet she was for him, he was periodically topping up the gel under his fingertips.

When he should be hard as a rock, at being allowed to lie between Hermione's parted thighs, his wrists ached and he was swapping hands every ten minutes.

Harry rolled over on the couch and Ron heard a whispered, "oh, fuck!"

"Yeah," he muttered.

Harry came over to the bed, rolling his shoulders and stretching his back. He stood by Hermione's head, trying not to look at what Ron was doing.

"You've been… how long…" he trailed off.

"Nearly three hours," Ron sighed.

"Oh," Harry said. "What happened?"

"She… dreamed, I guess," Ron said. "She was murmuring stuff… and then she went orange."

"Stuff?" Harry asked vaguely.

Ron blushed. "Stuff and my name and stuff."

"Wow, way to go, Ron."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"She really does have sex dreams about you."

"Yeah, well, there's something completely unsexy about turning your girlfriend orange."

Harry shrugged.

"Look, it's your turn, now, Harry," Ron said.

"I can't."

"You have to," Ron said firmly. "Come here, I'll show you what to do."

"Show me…"

Ron sighed. "I've taught you so many things about the Wizarding World; I never dreamed I'd teach you how to finger my girlfriend."

Harry sat tentatively on the bed beside him, his eyes finally falling on Ron's fingers. "Wow," he whispered.

Ron cast Lubricus again, and gel dripped onto Hermione's folds.

"Now," Ron said, his ears flushing. "You know how too much lube means wanking doesn't feel as good."

Harry gaped at him.

"Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry said weakly. "Not enough friction."

"Exactly," Ron nodded encouragingly. "I experimented a bit and I think that this is the same. If there is too much gel, I don't think she feels it properly, and she gets far too yellow. Just wipe some away and she'll go orange again."

"Oh, god."

"Now," Ron said, his ears pink. "I don't want to know if you've done this to my sister…"

"I haven't," Harry interrupted swiftly.

"Right," Ron said, with a small smile. "Good. Well. You don't have to put your fingers inside her, that doesn't seem to do much good."

"OK," Harry said nervously.

"You run your fingers up and down each side, here," Ron said, demonstrating the required action. "And round in circles, here, but don't press too hard."

"OK."

"Here, give me your hand," Ron grabbed Harry's limp hand and placed it between Hermione's legs.

Harry closed his eyes.

"Watch what you're doing, Harry," Ron chided him, gently. "Until you get the hang of it."

Harry moved clumsily and Ron placed his hand on top of his, leading his fingers through Hermione's folds and stroking her clit together.

"Oh, god," Harry murmured.

Ron watched him out of the corner of his eye, seeing his face flush, feeling Hermione moving under their hands, feeling his cock taking an interest in the bizarre proceedings for the first time.

"Yeah, good," Ron murmured, pulling his hand away and raising one knee, to try and hide the evidence growing in his jeans.

Harry's eyes were glazed over, behind his glasses, but he manfully kept stroking; Ron could almost hear him counting inside his head to keep his rhythm going, like when he had to dance at the Yule Ball.

Hermione sighed and stretched. "Harry," she whispered.

Harry and Ron stared at her, then turned to look at each other.

"Um," Harry said. "She must have heard my voice."

"It's OK," Ron said. "Really. I don't mind."

Harry frowned.

Ron adjusted his boxers as they both looked back down at Harry's fingers.

"Well," Ron said. "I… you're doing fine. I'll get some sleep. Wake me if you… well, yes."

He made it over to the couch without Harry seeing his erection straining in his jeans, and pressed his hand against it, desperately trying to will it away and to ignore the fact that he hadn't become aroused until they had touched her together.

<'))))><

Harry was used to his life falling to pieces.

He was used to death; but, hey, most people lost someone close, eventually; they grieved, they moved on.

But how was he ever going to move on from this?

He was laying between Hermione's parted thighs, experimenting with different caresses, his heart racing every time her hips rocked, her arse shifted.

This was Hermione.

Hermione was like a sister to him.

He shouldn't be able to smell her… sex.

She was his best friend.

She was his best friend's girlfriend.

A best friend who meant more to him than anything in the world.

A best friend who had showed him just how to stroke Hermione's clit and make her murmur his name.

It wasn't fair that his first real sexual experience was with someone who slept through the whole thing, to save their life from a stupid curse.

That didn't happen to other people.

Well.

It had happened to Ron, too.

Ron had covered his hand, and long, freckled fingers had pushed through Hermione's folds with him, and he had become so hard, so fast, his eyes had glazed over.

He shouldn't be turned on by touching Hermione like this.

He really shouldn't be turned on by touching Ron.

His fingers were wet and slipped through her folds so easily, and he was picturing Ron's cock sliding through them and he was going insane.

He shifted onto his other side and switched hands.

It was even easier, right handed, and his mind wandered.

Wandered to images of Ron and Hermione together; something he'd never come anywhere near imagining, before.

Even seeing them kiss made him uncomfortable.

Thinking of them naked was the least sexy image he could have come up with; he would have used it to get rid of unwanted erections, if he'd have been able to face them, afterwards.

Before.

But now.

Now he wanted Ron to wake up.

He wanted to watch Ron touch her; he wanted to know if it made Ron hard.

He whimpered and Hermione arched into his hand.

Fuck, she was far too dark orange.

Letting his mind conjure up images of a naked Ron had distracted him from the task at hand, and Hermione was dangerously aroused.

He pulled back, gently stroking her thighs until she sighed and her colour faded.

"Everything OK?" Ron asked, yawning.

"Huh?"

"She seemed a little too excited," Ron said.

"I must have got my rhythm wrong; it's better, now," Harry muttered.

Ron came over and sat beside him.

Harry flexed his fingers and changed hands.

"Want me to take over?" Ron offered.

"Sure, yeah, it's your… she's…" Harry babbled.

"It's OK," Ron said, running his thumb absently through her folds.

Harry sat back on his heels, his erection pinching in his trousers.

He looked at his glistening fingers and moved to wipe them on the blanket, but Ron's hand closed over his wrist.

He looked up and Ron met his eyes as he pulled Harry's hand up to his face and sucked two fingers into his mouth.

"What are you doing?" Harry whispered.

"Um…" Ron said. "I… her taste… I wanted."

He shifted, nervously, and Harry's eyes fell to the bulge in his jeans.

"Me too," he said.

Ron licked his lips and Harry moved closer, unable to believe that he was going to taste Hermione on Ron's lips, but unable to stop himself.

He grabbed a double handful of Ron's t-shirt and one of Ron's hands came up to cover his, the other still caressing Hermione.

Ron's breath was hot against his face and he opened his mouth.

"Ron," Hermione gasped. "What are you doing?"

They both turned to face her, their lips parted, Ron's fingers stilling between her thighs.

Hermione's cheeks were flushed and her eyes were wild and she was too aroused to be upset or angry yet.

"D'you trust me?" Ron asked swiftly.

She nodded.

"Touch yourself," Ron said.

"What?" she said.

"Look, Hermione, I swear, we're not doing anything dodgy, here. You were cursed, and Remus is looking for a counter curse, but you need to be kept aroused. Don't ask. Not too much. Not… you know. Just constantly aroused."

She looked down at her lap, where Ron's fingers retreated, nervously.

"I'm glowing," she muttered.

"Orange," Ron said. "Orange means aroused; don't argue with me, or you'll slip into yellow, and don't get… too excited, or you'll glow red. OK?"

She nodded, her eyes locked on his.

"What d'you want me to do, Hermione?" he whispered. "Don't be frightened, we want to help."

She looked from him to Harry.

Harry was still clinging to him so tightly his knuckles were white.

"Carry on," Hermione said.

"What?"

"You were going to kiss him."

Her fingers slipped between her legs, delicately stroking herself, and Ron moaned.

Harry tugged hard on his shirt and he turned back to him.

His hands came up, to cup Harry's face, but Harry turned his head and captured Ron's fingers between his lips, sucking them clean of Hermione's juices.

"Is this OK?" Ron begged her.

"Yes," Hermione whispered. "That is definitely OK."

Ron groaned and bent his head and his mouth closed over Harry's.

They both snapped.

Six hours of constant and inappropriate sexual tension ripped through them and frantic hands tugged off shirts and plunged into trousers.

Ron gasped into Harry's mouth as Harry's fingers closed around his cock.

They pulled back and looked at each other; Harry's eyes were wild, but Ron nodded and Harry squeezed him as he stroked.

"Dear god," Hermione murmured.

Ron laughed, freeing Harry's cock and smirking as Harry's eyes rolled back in his head.

He pushed their jeans down over the curve of their arses, and slid his cock against Harry's, wrapping his hand round both of them and stroking.

"Ron!" Harry and Hermione moaned in unison and his smile turned positively wicked.

He buried his free hand in Harry's hair and lowered his head. "Remember, Hermione," he whispered against Harry's lips. "Don't go too far."

They kissed, and Harry's hands settled on Ron's hips, thrusting forward, into the circle of his hand.

He lapped at Harry's lips and Harry sucked his tongue into his mouth, moaning and grinding their cocks together.

Hermione watched them, hypnotised, her fingers moving in lazy circles.

Harry’s hands had slid to Ron's arse, and his mouth was sealed on Ron's neck as he grunted and rubbed his cock against him.

Ron's thighs were parted, bracing himself against Harry's onslaught, his hand between their bodies squeezing and tugging at their cocks. Harry was muttering into his skin, desperately reaching for his climax as Ron pressed kisses into his hair.

Ron looked down at Hermione. "Don't… don't get carried away, now, will you?" he gasped.

"No, Ron," she whispered, her eyes locked on their bodies.

"We'll… fuck, Harry… we'll take care of… you… hold on."

His head tipped back and he closed his eyes as he climaxed, his come spurting between their bodies and making Harry groan and jerk against him.

"C'mon, Harry," Ron whispered, squeezing out the last of his aftershocks and stroking Harry's shaft with slippery fingers.

Harry looked up at him, wide eyed, and crumpled into his arms as he came.

Ron held him, brushing sweaty hair out of his face with his clean hand and kissing his forehead.

"You OK?" he asked. "We have to look after Hermione."

Harry nodded, weakly, pulling his jeans up and turning to look at her.

Her eyes were locked on Ron's cock, still casually hanging out of his boxers.

"Hermione?" he asked. "What d'you need? We both… we touched you, while you were asleep, because we had to. But now… whatever you want."

"I feel like I am going to explode," she whispered. "I want… want…"

She licked her lips and Ron's cock perked up.

"Touch me," she begged.

"Yeah… sure," Ron said, nodding enthusiastically.

"Wait," Harry said, grabbing his hand and Tergeoing their come away from his fingers.

Ron flushed and sprawled between her parted thighs, running his fingers over her; thrilled that she was awake and wanted him to; carefully watching the look on her face as she gazed down at him.

"I'll… you just…" Harry muttered, getting off the bed.

"Don't go," Hermione said.

"But you…" He gestured between her and Ron.

"Stay," Ron said firmly.

"I'll be back," he promised. "I'll check on Remus."

He knelt at the fireplace and threw in a pinch of Floo powder; sticking his head in the flames, he called out Remus' address.

<'))))><

"Remus? Are you there?" Harry called, peering round what he could see of Remus' kitchen.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway, and Remus entered the room, clutching an armful of books.

"Harry!" he said, dropping them on the table and crouching at the hearth. "Is she OK? Is she still unconscious?"

"Um, no," Harry said. "She woke up. Well, first she dreamed, and went orange, and stuff. But we… took care of… things. She just woke up, though, and we managed to, um, explain things and distract her, and Ron is… well, he's…"

"OK, Harry," Remus interrupted. "I think I have something for you."

"A counter curse?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Not a complete counter curse, no," Remus admitted. "It'll remove the Suscito Infinitus, but leave her aroused."

"Until she…"

"Well, she won't be able to bring herself to climax, I'm afraid. One of you will have to do it."

"Do it, how?" Harry asked nervously.

"Any way at all," Remus said. "Just bring her to orgasm."

Harry sighed deeply. "Look, Remus," he said. "We'll take care of this, Ron and me. But you won't ever tell anyone what happened, will you?"

"Of course not," Remus assured him. "I don't want to know what you've had to do; just take care of her."

<'))))><

He took his head out of the fire to find Ron had kicked off his jeans and was curled up between Hermione's legs, his face hidden by his hair and Hermione's damp curls.

Hermione's eyes were closed and her hands were wandering over her breasts.

"Wow," he breathed. "Um, guys?"

He sat beside them on the bed and Ron looked up at him, his lips glistening.

"Fuck," Harry whispered, unable to stop himself from leaning in and stealing a kiss. "You taste… fuck, Ron."

"Well?" Ron asked, his hand automatically returning to Hermione's folds and stroking her gently.

"We have a sort of counter curse," Harry confirmed. "It'll remove the danger, and then all you have to do is make her come and it'll break the curse."

"Me?" Ron asked.

"Well," Harry said, looking flustered. "Someone. You can't do it yourself," he explained to Hermione. "They used to take the curse off of the girl and leave her aroused until she could get someone to bring her off."

"Do the spell," Hermione said firmly.

Harry nodded and dug his wand out from the tangle of blankets. He cleared his throat nervously, removed the Monitoring Charm and performed Remus' spell.

"Now we can just let go," Ron said, "and take care of you, properly."

"I'll…" Harry muttered.

"Stay," Ron and Hermione said together.

"Really," Hermione said. "If… if you want to?"

Harry smiled and nodded. "Very much," he said. "Very much, yes. If you both…"

Ron laughed and kissed him. "We do," he said. "Want you. And want you to."

Hermione reached for the zip on his jeans and Harry frowned. "This is for you," he said, stilling her hand.

"I know," she said. "And I want you both naked."

"Excellent plan," Ron said, ripping off his boxers.

Harry laughed and stripped off his jeans and boxers, and clambered onto the bed with them.

He met Ron's eyes and nodded. He sat back against the headboard of the bed, legs spread and pulled Hermione to lie against his chest, groaning as his cock pressed against her back and stirred.

Ron knelt, his cock straining towards them. "What d'you want, Hermione?" he asked, his voice low.

"I want you inside me," she whispered.

"Are you sure?" Ron asked.

"Of course I'm sure," Hermione said impatiently.

Ron reached for his discarded wand, swallowed and cast a Contraceptus Charm.

Shuffling closer, he leant down to kiss her; Harry brushed his fringe off his face and watched them kiss; Ron knelt up to steal a kiss from him and moved into position.

He looked down at her as his cock slid inside her body; her face was flushed, her eyes locked on his; Harry's hands were cupping her breasts, thumbs working in circles over her nipples.

"This," Ron murmured, withdrawing and thrusting back hard into her. "This… us… we're together, now, yeah?"

"Together?" Harry whispered, one hand running down Hermione's belly and slipping between her body and Ron's to caress her.

"The three of us," Hermione confirmed, straining up to capture Ron's lips. "Together."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, watching their bodies joining together.

"Together," Ron moaned. "Always… fuckgodyesplease… we do everything together… right?"

"Right," Hermione whispered, arching beneath him.

"Right," Harry echoed. "Please."

He wrapped his arm tightly around Hermione's shoulders and held her against him, Ron's cock sliding past his fingers as he stroked Hermione, Ron's mouth sealed over his.

Hermione cried out and they broke their kiss to watch her, Ron thrusting harder and Harry's fingers caressing them both.

She writhed against them and they both held her tightly as she finally climaxed, sobbing into Ron's neck.

Harry sat up, pulling her up with him, her head resting back on his shoulder; Ron pulled out of her body and wrapped his long arms around both of them.

Together.
****
In a spirit of giving full credit, yes, this was a cruel thing to do to Speed, and I am not implying that Hermione is a bus.

The cock!frotting is for cork, of course.

The Harry genuinely wanting Hermione is for abigail89.

They can both refuse my offerings, if the crack is too much.

But remember, I could have had her come while they frotted and killed her off.

And I am rather proud of Sirius' Charm.