Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger sat around the campfire outside their tent, leisurely toasting marshmallows on long forks that Hermione had conjured for them. They talked very little, which was the only real clue that this comfortable scene was not what it appeared.
In actuality, it was the trio’s last night before embarking on the final leg of Harry’s journey to fulfill his destiny and rid the Wizarding world of Lord Voldemort, the most evil dark wizard who ever lived. After Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts’ beloved Headmaster, was killed at the end of their sixth year, Harry had been determined to set out on this journey alone, because nearly everyone important in his life had met an untimely demise at Voldemort’s hand. Harry’s own parents had been killed by Voldemort personally when Harry was just a year old. Voldemort attempted to kill Harry as well, but the curse rebounded upon the Dark Lord, leaving him in a less than human state without a proper body of his own, and leaving Harry with a lightening shaped scar and unwanted fame as “The Boy Who Lived.”
Orphaned, and forced to live with his mother’s sister’s family, who clearly didn’t want him there, Harry had known little happiness and nothing of the wizarding world to which he belonged, until he was invited at the age of eleven to begin his magical education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was on the train to school in their first year that Harry met Ron and Hermione, and their adventures began.
Each year at Hogwarts had not only furthered the trio’s magical education, but had presented unexpected challenges that would have tested even the most advanced of witches and wizards. Harry, Ron and Hermione faced them together, strengthening their abilities, their wit, their character and perhaps most importantly, the bonds of their friendship.
Harry found his Godfather at the end of their third year, only to lose him again at the hands of one of Voldemort’s followers as his fifth year drew to a close. Near the end of the trio’s fourth year, Harry was witness to the death of a fellow student, killed by the very same of Voldemort’s men who’d betrayed his parents, and who, after killing Cedric in front of Harry, then forcibly took blood from Harry’s arm to use in the spell which restored Voldemort to human form. But the loss of Professor Dumbledore last year was perhaps the worst blow, as Dumbledore had been Harry’s true mentor, a symbol of inner strength and of everything that was good and right in the world. Always considered to be the only wizard Voldemort ever feared, Professor Dumbledore’s death drove home to Harry just how vulnerable everyone would be until Voldemort was stopped, and he realized that the sooner he pursued the fate prophesied for him, “that either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives,” the more people would be spared if Harry was successful. Professor Dumbledore’s death was also what made Harry end his relationship with Ron’s sister, Ginny. He loved Ginny more than words could express, but he knew that Voldemort would go after her to get to him, and the only way Harry might protect her was to distance himself from her.
Harry was first to break the silence. “You two know you don’t have to go with me tomorrow . . . I mean, I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’re here, and there’s no way I could’ve found and destroyed those last Horcruxes without you, but it’s going to be dangerous and Voldemort could win.”
“Harry, don’t be silly,” chided Hermione. “We’ve always been together no matter what, and that’s the way it’s going to stay. The prophecy may have been about you, but Professor Dumbledore wouldn’t have told you to tell us about it if he hadn’t thought we could help you.”
“She’s right, mate. You’re stuck with us,” mumbled Ron through a large mouthful of gooey marshmallow.
After another short silence, Hermione began wondering aloud about what they were facing and how they might deal with the challenges that lie ahead. She assured them she’d brought all her textbooks and some things she’d borrowed from the school library that she thought might help them as well. Then, in a softer voice, Hermione said she truly hoped they would succeed in their quest because she didn’t know what would happen to Ron’s family, and the other members of the Order of the Phoenix, and to their friends at school, and even to people like Harry’s aunt and uncle, or to her parents – her voice breaking then – who only knew the wizarding world existed through them, and to the other Muggles, who remained blissfully ignorant of the magical world. Even Hermione’s parents remained in the dark about Lord Voldemort because she knew if she’d told them, they would never have allowed her to return to school or to be here now with Harry and Ron; of course, they didn’t actually know she’d been leaving the safety of the school on weekends with the boys to help Harry search for the pieces of Voldemort’s soul that were hidden all around the country in his quest to be immortal. They certainly didn’t know that now the trio had found and destroyed all but the last piece, the one that remained within Voldemort himself, and that they were embarking on the last phase of Harry’s destiny, where either Harry must kill Voldemort, or be killed by him.
It was Harry who moved first to comfort Hermione, realizing she’d only stopped talking in an effort to conceal the tears streaming silently down her cheeks. Ron had noticed, but he’d had such a crush on Hermione for so many years that somehow physical contact was more difficult between them than it was between her and Harry. Harry said nothing, but put his arm around Hermione and allowed her to bury her face in his shoulder while she tried to regain control of herself. Ron, feeling awkward and uncomfortable in the moment, felt obligated to fill the silence.
“It’ll be all right, Hermione. Things have got to be okay because we still have a whole year of school to go and Mum would go spare if another son dropped out before finishing seventh year, and I’m just starting to get a little good at Quidditch and it would be a shame to waste that now, and besides, I’ve never even had a proper girlfriend.”
Ron blanched when he realized he’d said that last bit aloud, and Harry not to laugh because visions of Ron with “Lav Lav” during the previous school swam quickly into focus in his mind. (Ron had been in a mercifully short relationship with Lavender Brown that had consisted mainly of snogging all over the school, which Harry suspected only started because Ron was jealous that Hermione may have kissed Viktor Krum after the Yule Ball two years earlier).
Hermione, who already seemed overcome with emotion, released Harry and turned to Ron, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him, but then letting go quickly. “At least the two of you have been properly kissed, I’ve never even felt what it was like,” she said. “And before either of you mention Viktor, he never did kiss me, except on the back of my hand. I wouldn’t let him.” And with that, Hermione blushed crimson, rose to her feet and walked hurriedly into their tent.
The tent, which looked large enough for little more than one person from the outside, was magically expanded inside so that it was more like a modest two bedroom flat. Hermione had the smaller bedroom to herself, and Harry and Ron would share the larger one. With Hermione already gone to bed, Harry and Ron doused the fire and tidied things up outside so they could get an early start in the morning, wisely recognizing that it would be to their advantage to turn in early so they would be fresh for the challenges that lay ahead.
Uncharacteristically, Harry was already asleep when Ron first heard the muffled sounds coming from Hermione’s room. He thought to wake Harry, but then decided he should go see whether he was imagining things – or if Hermione really was still awake and crying – before interrupting Harry’s sleep. Poor bloke almost always had nightmares, and it didn’t seem right to wake him if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.
Ron quietly pushed back the canvas flap that served as a door to Hermione’s room to see inside, but was quite unprepared for the sight that met his eyes. Hermione was lying face down on the bed, wearing nothing more than lacy black knickers and a thin t-shirt, probably one of his or Harry’s actually. The vision was enough to stir to life a part of Ron that he normally made valiant efforts to control in the presence of friends. Ron could see the slight tremble of Hermione’s body as she sobbed into her pillow, struggling to muffle the sound so that he and Harry would not hear and worry over her, or worse think that she shouldn’t join them on Harry’s quest.
Ron stood at the doorway, transfixed for several long moments, not knowing what to do. He thought perhaps he should leave, so that he wouldn’t embarrass Hermione, but he also thought he should offer her comfort. And he thought maybe he should go get Harry because Harry would know what to do, but a louder and more audible sob propelled his feet toward the bed.
He sat gently at the edge and asked, “Hermione, are you okay?”
When Hermione looked up at him, through lashes still glistening from her tears, and whispered “I’m so scared, Ron,” Ron’s inhibitions momentarily left him and he pulled her into his arms, trying to reassure her that things would be okay, the three of them had faced Voldemort before – well, at least Harry had, but usually with some sort of help from them – and they’d always been okay. Then he bent to kiss her on the forehead, hoping it might make her feel a bit better.
Neither was ever really sure what happened at that point because the next moment they were kissing softly, and then Ron’s hands began to roam across Hermione’s body and she didn’t stop him. Likewise, Hermione began to test the feel of Ron’s bare chest and back with her fingertips – he never did sleep with a shirt on – and the next thing she knew, Ron was pulling the thin t-shirt over her head, leaving her exposed to his gaze and wearing nothing the lacy black knickers.
Ron hesitated, waiting for Hermione to stop him. It wouldn’t have surprised him at that moment if she’d reminded him they were both school Prefects and this type of behavior was not setting a good example for the younger students, even though they weren’t currently at school, but when no words came and Hermione’s face showed nothing more than eager anticipation, Ron stripped out of his pyjama bottoms and blushed a little, causing his face to clash spectacularly with his red hair, when his erection poked out through the front of his Chudley Cannons boxers. Hermione was undaunted and reached out her arms to Ron, who moved into them instantly.
Harry woke abruptly, thinking he must’ve had one of his dreams, but his scar wasn’t hurting and he could remember nothing since extinguishing the fire and stretching out across his bed. He was about to settle himself down to sleep again when he realized Ron’s bed was empty. He listened intently, wondering where Ron had gone, then he heard the soft sounds coming from Hermione’s room, and assumed she was crying again.
Harry slipped silently out of bed and walked to Hermione’s doorway, worried about what was bothering her, and still wondering where Ron might have gone. He was mesmerized by the sight before him, as he too pulled back the canvas flap; Ron and Hermione locked in a loving embrace, their lips melted together, with Ron’s totally naked and muscular body, visibly tense as it pressed against Hermione’s smaller, softer and also very bare form. It was the most beautiful and most erotic thing Harry had ever seen, and was the perfect picture of what he’d longed to do to Ginny, ever since their first kiss after the final Quidditch match of last season.
Harry knew he shouldn’t watch, but he was entranced by what he saw and his feet seemed rooted to the spot. Strong emotions conflicted within Harry’s chest; more than anything, he was happy for his two best friends because he’d known for years they were crazy about one another and belonged together, but were either too thick or too proud to admit it. Still, if he was honest with himself, he was also a little hurt. Until he’d started going out with Ginny, the only happiness he’d ever known in his whole life was the time he’d spent with Ron and Hermione . . . they’d been practically inseparable since early in their first year at Hogwarts when he and Ron had saved Hermione from a troll that she probably wouldn’t have been facing if Ron hadn’t hurt her feelings earlier that same day. But this, this was something private between the two of them and he, Harry, was left out for the first time in their relationship and he wasn’t sure how that made him feel. It wasn’t that he was jealous exactly, because even though he’d ended their relationship, his romantic interests were still clearly directed toward Ginny, but he’d always done everything else for the first time with Ron and Hermione, and if Voldemort should win, Harry might never experience what was happening between the two of them now, right before his eyes.
The sudden absence of sound reached Harry’s ears, making him realize that Ron and Hermione were now looking back at him as he’d momentarily lost himself in his thoughts. He stammered an embarrassed apology, saying he hadn’t meant to intrude, and started to back away when Hermione spoke, “Harry, don’t go.”
Harry’s face burned with shame knowing they’d caught him watching them, and he shook his head, taking another step backward.
“No mate, stay . . . really,” said Ron, while Hermione got off the bed and moved toward Harry, taking him by the hand and guiding him gently to the bed.
As if they’d read his thoughts, which wasn’t impossible in the wizarding world, although Harry wasn’t aware that either of his friends had mastered the art, Ron said “We’ve always gone on every new adventure together, and this one might very well be our last. Hermione and I want you with us for the first time.”
Harry didn’t know what to say, but didn’t resist when Hermione began to untie his pyjama bottoms, allowing them to fall to the floor, as Ron pulled Harry’s t-shirt over his head and tossed it away, leaving Harry, who never wore anything under his pjs, just as naked as the two of them.
Harry was embarrassed again when he realized how hard he’d grown from watching them, but a little amused that for once the tables had turned and Ron was the one who seemed confident and in control of the situation and he, Harry, was the one confused and ill-at-ease.
Ron and Hermione took Harry by the arms and pulled him onto the bed between them, and he felt a tingle shoot through his body that made him nervous and excited at the same time. It was Harry’s strength of character that forced him to say, albeit reluctantly, “if this is your first time together, it should be just the two of you, and not with me. I know we do everything together, but this is different.” He knew Ron would hate him for it later if he stayed.
“Don’t be a prat, Harry,” Ron said, with a determined look on his face. “If the world were normal, I wouldn’t want you anywhere near Hermione like this, and I certainly wouldn’t want you near me like this, but we’re at war and we may not live, and we’ve always been there to give each other strength, and comfort and support. Tonight isn’t about love or sex, Harry, it’s about all three of us being there for each other.”
Harry relaxed a little at Ron’s heartfelt words, and felt only slightly guilty when Hermione put her arms around his shoulders, drawing him into a soft kiss. She’d kissed him before, on the cheek or the forehead, but never on the mouth. Her lips were softer than he’d expected, given her somewhat bossy nature, but that encouraged him too because if this were wrong, Hermione would have already told them so.
He was surprised when he felt Ron’s hands on his shoulders, massaging them, but he realized Ron was only trying to help him relax and to show him the only way he knew how that it was okay with him for Harry to be there. Ron’s hands felt good actually, rubbing the tenseness out of his neck muscles and gradually moving down his back.
Lost in Hermione’s kisses and the little dance their tongues were doing together, Harry scarcely noticed when Ron’s arms reached around him to cup Hermione’s breasts, which were now resting softly against Harry’s bare chest. Harry liked the feel of Hermione’s skin next to his, and of Ron’s fingers inadvertently brushing against his nipples while they played with Hermione’s, and he knew Ron intended nothing sexual towards him in that simple act, but was a bit surprised at himself when he realized right now he wouldn’t care anyway. He supposed that was why it didn’t bother him when Ron moved more closely to him from behind, placing a leg on each side of Harry, so that he could better reach Hermione, and Harry could feel Ron’s erection pressing against his back. Somehow it felt right being here between the two of them, bare skin on bare skin, with literally nothing to stand in the way of their friendship.
Harry wasn’t sure when his own hands began to explore Hermione’s body, but became quite conscious of the wetness caressing his fingertips as he realized he was probing her most private place and she was moving gently against his hand, while his cock was only centimeters from her tangled triangle of brown curls. He groaned softly when he felt a hand gently surround him and begin to move slowly up and down, and though his mind dimly registered that the hand was much too large to be Hermione’s, he would not look down to confirm his suspicions that it was Ron’s hand that held him. He could feel the same stroking behind his back and knew that Hermione had taken Ron in hand and was providing him with those same delicious sensations.
The trio stayed entangled with one another in this manner for what seemed an eternity, Hermione kissing first Harry, then pressing tightly against him so that she could kiss Ron. Then, without knowing why he did it, Harry turned toward Ron and their mouths joined in a clumsy kiss, rougher than with Hermione, but still warm and welcome.
“Trade places with me Harry,” Hermione said breathlessly as she began to rise. Harry moved away from Ron, actually feeling – he couldn’t really describe it – maybe a sense of loss when the contact with Ron’s body was broken. Hermione settled herself in his place, and said matter-of-factly in her best, bossy voice, “I’ve worked this all out so that no one gets neglected.”
With those words, Hermione pushed Harry onto his back on the bed, positioning herself on all fours between his muscular thighs, “Now you get behind me, Ron,” she coached, just before running the tip of her tongue up the length of Harry’s throbbing penis, eliciting both a gasp and a groan from not just Harry, but from Ron as well.
Ron realized Hermione’s intentions for him, but not knowing how wet she already was from Harry’s touch, he feared it might be too much to just thrust himself inside her, and he wanted her to remember the moment fondly. He couldn’t describe how good it made him feel to know that she’d chosen him to actually take her virginity, and not Harry, of whom he’d always been a bit jealous, even though they were all sharing their first time together, and he didn’t want Hermione to remember tonight as the time when he, Ron, had hurt her. He opted instead to roll over onto his back and push himself underneath Hermione so that he had an unbelievable view of her most private place. He reached up and gently pulled her down towards his mouth, invading her first with his tongue and causing her to cry out in pleasure, muffled somewhat by the mass of Harry’s cock which had disappeared inside her mouth.
Harry rose slightly, supporting his weight on his elbows, so that he could watch Hermione’s lovely mouth sliding up and down his length, stopping occasionally to plant a soft kiss against the mass of tangled black hair at his base or to tease the tension from his balls with her tongue. And if he leaned ever so slightly to one side, Harry could see Ron’s tongue assaulting Hermione’s core, and he could tell from the sounds she was making that Ron must be doing it right.
Just as Harry begin to feel himself on the verge of an explosion, Ron moved from under Hermione and rose to his knees, momentarily drawing Hermione’s attention away from Harry and giving him the opportunity he needed to regain control of his breathing and hold on awhile longer. Ron moved in behind Hermione, placing the head of his now throbbing penis at her opening and resting a hand on each of her hip bones. “All right there, Hermione?” he asked.
“Never better,” was her reply, and with that, Ron thrust himself deeply inside her, noticing the feel of her hymen breaking and hearing her squeak in a mixture of pain and pleasure, but completely unable at that moment to stop himself. Harry almost came just from the intensity of emotion in the air, and the expressions of ecstacy on his two best friends’ faces, but he was glad that he didn’t because then Hermione may not have resumed her oral exploration of his lower body, now somewhat more erratic because of the bounce caused by Ron’s steady thrusts into her.
It was only a few short moments before Ron pulled back from Hermione and grasped his cock in his hand, stroking it the last few times before the milky white proof of his orgasm splashed onto Hermione’s back and Harry’s chest. Hermione raised herself and moved towards Harry’s belly to dip her tongue into the salty sweet substance, making both boys groan in unison. She dropped her weight onto Harry, grabbing his shoulders and rolling so that he ended up on top of her.
Harry placed a hand on either side of Hermione’s shoulders and lifted his body above her, but then hesitated and slid down the bed so that he too might taste Hermione’s passion. She whimpered when his tongue touched the tender bud just outside her opening, and she made sounds almost like a cat’s purr when he slipped two fingers inside her as he continued to nibble at that most sensitive spot. Harry never even flinched when he felt Ron’s hand close once again around his erection and stroke him slowly. Savoring the feeling of closeness by being so intimate with the two people who’d always stood by him, Harry continued his sweet torture of Hermione’s senses until he felt the trickles of her orgasm slipping across his fingers.
Ron released his grip on Harry when he saw Harry raise his head from between Hermione’s creamy thighs, and allowed him to move his body closer to her. Harry looked back at Ron and asked, “Are you really sure? I can’t take it back once it’s done.”
“Go ahead Mate, this night is for all of us,” Ron said, moving himself towards Hermione’s head so that he’d have a better view as Harry’s cock disappeared inside Hermione.
Hermione reached up to gently massage Ron’s balls, hoping to stir him back to life, unwilling for their lovemaking to end, and was rewarded when he soon began to rise to her challenge. She gripped him with her hand and began to pump his shaft, matching the rhythm of Harry’s thrusts into her. The feeling of having control of both Ron’s and Harry’s most vulnerable parts was exhilarating to Hermione and she began to feel herself climaxing almost at once, causing her to squeeze her muscles tightly around Harry, creating something of a chain reaction. Harry pulled out of her just in time to spurt semen on her breasts and face, and a little on Ron’s tummy and cock.
Harry blushed and muttered an embarrassed apology for his aim, as Ron moved to lick Harry’s cum from Hermione’s chin and cheeks, which Harry found so erotic that he could feel himself already begin to stir anew. Without thinking, he reached for Ron’s cock and began to stroke it slowly. Ron raised himself to face Harry and they kissed, while Hermione watched from beneath them on the bed. It was a sign of the solid bond of their friendship that she didn’t think it wrong or unnatural to watch the two of them together like this, still kissing, and now stroking each other, as Ron had reached for Harry as well.
When she could take it no more, Hermione moved toward them and began to lick alternately at the two of them, teasing their excitement to a fevered pitch, before telling them, “I want you both,” and grabbing her wand from the beside table, waving it past each of them in turn as she whispered a few well chosen words, which the boys learned much later were contraceptive and lubrication charms. She silently thanked Merlin the boys had the sense to pull out of her the first time since she’d never even stopped to think about birth control when they’d gotten started.
Clearly, neither Ron nor Harry was sure what she meant by saying she wanted them both, so Hermione nudged Ron to the edge of the bed, guiding him to lie down so that his legs dangled off the side. She seated herself on top of him, taking him completely inside herself and making him cry out in pleasure, then she leaned forward, pressing her breasts to his chest. “Get behind me, Harry.”
Harry walked around behind Hermione, still confused about what she wanted until he realized her bum was sticking conveniently up in the air. Still very wet from Hermione’s tongue, he wondered if he could do this without hurting her. He tentatively traced a slow circle around her other opening with his finger, in case he’d gotten the wrong idea and she wanted to stop him. When she said nothing, Harry gently pressed his finger inward to test her reaction. She was so tight, he knew he must be hurting her, but the lubrication charm was working its magic and when she softly whispered “More,” Harry withdrew his finger and tenderly replaced it with his cock. Only the tip was inside her, and when Hermione made no sound of protest he gradually thrust a bit farther into her, feeling himself gripped tighter still within her, and rather excited by the knowledge that Hermione may have chosen Ron to take her virginity, but he, Harry, was first to explore other territory.
Harry noticed Hermione had stopped moving against Ron and realized he could actually feel Ron’s cock against his own, with only a bit of Hermione’s tender insides separating them, as both were competing for space inside her. When Harry stopped moving to contemplate the sensation, Hermione began to move ever so slightly, rocking herself between them so that both boys’ cocks were slipping in and out of her openings in perfect erotic rhythm, and it seemed all either of them could do was to hold on for the ride. Hermione moved slowly; although the feeling was exquisite, her arse felt as if it would burst from Harry’s size. When the sensations grew stronger, she reached with her own hand to massage the little nub next to where Ron disappeared, and it was too much for her. She came with a violent explosion, drenching Ron’s cock with her creamy fluid. She pulled herself loose from the two of them and instinctively rolled sideways onto the bed, as if to get out of the boys’ way while she caught her breath.
Ron looked nervously at Harry, “It’s really slippery right now, thanks to Hermione.” (And he still didn’t know about the lubrication charm). Harry said nothing, but lay back on the bed and pulled his knees to his chest, offering himself freely to Ron. Just as Harry had done with Hermione, Ron wondered if he could do this without hurting Harry, but the idea of being inside Harry somehow fascinated him. He pushed gently and felt Harry tense up, then relax. Ron was so slippery from Hermione’s silky fluids that he had no trouble pressing himself slowly the rest of the way into Harry and the sensation was incredible. When Harry made no effort to stop him, he began to move a little faster. Harry slowly stroked himself with one hand, and it wasn’t long at all before Ron was coming inside him.
Hermione was fascinated watching the two of them, and when Ron pulled out of Harry, she grabbed a bottle of body lotion from her bedside table and together, she and Ron massaged Harry’s cock with the lotion before Ron dropped to his knees before Harry’s throbbing member.
Hermione backed out of the way as Harry grasped Ron’s hips and pulled him back against himself. Using the same technique he had with Hermione, although a bit less concerned about whether he might hurt Ron since now he’d experienced it for himself, Harry pushed himself into Ron’s tight opening and waited for him to relax. Slowly he increased his rhythm, and felt somehow gratified when he felt Ron pressing back into him to meet him thrust for thrust. It didn’t take long; Harry came with a force that would wake the dead, and with the satisfying knowledge that he was totally spent.
Hermione kissed them both, and no one said a word as the three of them fell into blissful sleep, a mass of tangled bodies on Hermione’s bed.