Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

He just knew it	By : 2910leiv Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 5510 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make any money from this. At all.

Chapter List
- 1-He just knew it
- 1
Warnings: AU, creature inheritance, threesome, bisexuality

Seventh year, Voldemort was killed by Harry (somehow last year). All the good guys are still alive. Unbeta-ed and English is not my native language.

He just knew it

Harry lazily glided past the opponent’s goal hoops as he scouted for any sight of the snitch. At one point he had thought to have spotted it by the corner of observation turret holding most of the teaching staff, but it had vanished by the time he made his way over there from the opposite side of the pitch. It had been a fairly uneventful game so far. But then again that was only to be expected of a Gryffindor – Hufflepuff game. If it had been against Slytherin, then… As it was the score stood at a comfortable 70 – 10 to Gryffindor with no injuries or fouls on either side, something the Slytherin spectators were loudly protesting about.

Harry watched as Katie Bell got hit by a bludger and saw Ginny Weasley speed after the Hufflepuff boy who had sent the ball at her teammate. He watched as they sped upwards, Ginny yelling obscenities at the poor boy and then Harry saw it. The tiny flutter of golden wings. The snitch. Sparing a look toward the other seeker he took off after it. The other seeker didn’t notice until one of his teammates yelled at him to get going, but Harry knew the boy would be too late. He was almost there. Just a little further. Almost…

“Arrrrgh!” Harry yelled as a sudden fierce pain coursed through him. As if in slow motion the spectators watched as the Golden Boy relinquished his hold of his broom and fell.

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He groaned at the light piercing his eyelids in a most painful way. He tried moving a little to turn away from the obnoxious light, but to no avail. He groaned. His subconscious was busily diagnosing his physical wellbeing (tired and sore, but undamaged) and his location (bright light, antiseptic smell, feel of the bed and sheets… hospital wing, no doubt about it), while his conscious mind struggled to gain a stronger foothold. Within moments he heard the soft clacking of footsteps approaching. They were not rushed or hurried, nor were they calm either. Harry knew from his vast experience of being in the hospital wing that rushed footsteps were a bad sign. In no time at all the footsteps were upon him and the gentle but firm voice of Poppy Pomfrey greeting him.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Potter. I’m glad to see you among the land of the wake once again.” She said with a fond smile. Harry tried to open his eyes, but the light still hurt too much. Madam Pomfrey noticed and pulled the curtains around his bed with a practised wave of her wand.

“There that should help.”

He tried opening his eyes again. This time the subdued light didn’t sear his eyeballs and he managed to squint up at her. Her round friendly face swam in to view. He blinked a few times, and then opened his eyes wider. He tried to sit up, but for some reason it was almost impossible. He felt as if he had been drained of all energy somehow. Madam Pomfrey immediately used her wand again this time to bring him to a sitting position with a pillow behind his back.

“Easy now, Mr. Potter.” She said. “You’ve been unconscious for twelve days and your body has undergone quite an ordeal, so it is only natural for you to feel drained.” Harry looked at her sharply. A million questions already zooming around in his head. Pomfrey held up a hand to keep him silent.

“When you fell off your broom did you experience any pain before hand?” she asked.

“Yes, wh..?” his voice was rusty as if he hadn’t used it in a while.

“When you were brought in here you were unconscious. It is a normal reaction to the transformation. Particularly if it is a painful one, which yours no doubt was.”

Even as Harry opened his mouth to interrupt, she continued.

“The transformation, Mr. Potter, is what some young people go through when they come into their inheritance.”

Harry’s eyes widened. He of course already knew about the inheritance, having attended a magical school with other magical students, whom all went through some type of inheritance at some point during their teen years. But it wasn’t often that it was accompanied by a transformation as well. Last time was a year and a half ago when a Ravenclaw transformed into a veela. What in Merlin’s soggy pants am I?

Seeing his slightly panicked look, Madam Pomfrey conjured a small handheld mirror and handed it to him. With a weak and trembling hand he took it and held it up before him. There’s no difference! He thought with great relief. But why would she hand him a mirror then. He glanced at Pomfrey and then looked into the mirror again. First thing he noticed was that he wasn’t wearing his glasses, but was able to see perfectly fine anyway. He turned his head a little to admire his spectacle-free appearance and saw his ears. They were pointed! He used his free hand to grab at one ear, to feel along the strange new point. A slight squeeze confirmed that they were indeed real and attached to him.

“There aren’t really any other distinguishing features.” Madam Pomfrey said with a smile. He looked at her distractedly.

“You seem to have acquired a little bit of height and weight,”

At this he startled, not having noticed his slightly more fleshed out body. Though he still was rather slim, he no longer had that gaunt unhealthy, starved look.

“You have also managed to loose all traces of previous injuries and scars – except of course the curse scar – even your allergy to Gruddleberries has vanished.”

She added the last with gentle amusement. It never ceased to amaze her how beneficial a transformation could be. Harry looked at her and at his own changed reflection in the mirror in a daze.

“B…but what am I?” he whispered roughly. Madam Pomfrey conjured a glass of water and made him drink some before answering.

“You’re an elf, Mr. Potter.” She said kindly, knowing from experience with others the state of shock he must be in.

“An elf.” He whispered as he stared at himself.

“Yes, an elf. Headmaster Dumbledore is still trying to determine how that came to be, since neither of your parents displayed any signs of a creature inheritance. The current theory is that there was an elf among one of your more remote ancestors. It is after all not unusual for the creature inheritance to skip a few generations.”

Harry sighed deeply. An elf! Him! Why couldn’t he just have gotten a magic boost like Fred and George or a particular skill like Seamus? Why couldn’t he be normal for once? He had done what they had asked of him and killed Voldemort - was it really too much too ask for him to lead a normal life now? Unbeknownst to Harry everything in the room started shaking; responding to his accidental magic.

“Mr. Potter, do restrain your self,” Professor Snape said entering the room; the curtains around Harry’s bed flew open.

“And cease this juvenile display of…” he didn’t get to finish as all the glass in the room burst into tiny fragments. Madam Pomfrey shrieked in surprise and Snape hurriedly cast a protego over a resting second year two beds down. The windows had broken with a resounding noise and rained fragments of glass down the side of the castle. Potions began seeping from destroyed vials and dripped from the shelves and onto the floor, mixing in untold combinations, and some sending up noxious fumes.

With an angry snarl Snape banished the fumes and ruined potions and stomped toward Harry’s bed. Harry’s eyes widened in shock, both at the devastation he had caused with his accidental magic and at the menacing potions master charging toward him. He felt certain the man would harm him, maybe even kill him and he instinctively held up his arm as if to ward off a blow.

But nothing happened.

He heard Madam Pomfrey gasp and glanced at her then looked over at Snape – who was doing a mime act, it seemed. The man was holding up his hands and patting thin air as if it was a wall in front of him. Harry felt his eyebrows rising. Snape pushed at the invisible wall, and then pounded at it. Then he tried going around it, but to no avail. He seemed completely stuck. Harry gaped. The angry man’s mouth was moving as if he was speaking, or rather shouting – angrily, but no sound could be heard.

“Mr. Potter! Release Professor Snape at once!” Madam Pomfrey shrieked. The second year in the other bed sat up in her bed and stared at the proceedings with huge, frightened eyes. Snape looked ready to commit murder. Harry was flabbergasted. Had he..? How? He impersonated a fish out of water as he gaped confusedly at the mad professor in the invisible cage.

“I… I don’t… I don’t know how.” He pleaded, looking desperately at her and at Snape. The enraged man threw himself at the barrier toward Harry and Harry flinched back, though Snape was still trapped.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake!” she exclaimed and pulled her wand out and pointed it at Snape. Harry flung himself at her, and grabbed a hold of her arm.

“No, don’t.”

He sent Snape a terrified look. If she released the man now he would be a dead elf for sure. Pomfrey sent him a consternated look and shook him off.

“Control your self, Mr. Potter.” Then pointing her wand yet again at Snape:

“Finite.”

Harry held his breath and bit his lower lip, dreading the worst. But nothing happened. When Snape tested the barrier – i.e. pushed and pounded on it – it was still there. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Madam Pomfrey sent him a stern glance and then spoke to Professor Snape.

“I shall alert the Headmaster, Severus.”

Then with a final stern glance at Harry she marched off to her office to place the firecall. Harry looked at Snape with great trepidation. The man pounded the wall again, making Harry jump. He had never seen Snape so emotionally deranged before. It was uncanny and downright frightening. He drew back and pulled his legs up to his chest, making himself as small as possible. Snape continued to glare at him, making him nervous. Why did these things always happen to him?
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“Oh my.” Flitwick said as yet another spell proved unsuccessful at freeing the potions master, who by this time was standing with his arms crossed and with a menacing glare resting constantly on the young elf in the hospital bed. A small army of house elves had swept through the hospital wing and cleaned up the glass and magically installed new window panes.

The house elves had all seemed to be unusually deferential to Harry, treating him almost as royalty. After his defeat of Voldemort they had treated him with even more respect than before – something Harry had not thought possible – but now that he was an elf, they were truly overdoing it. Harry was now resting in a deluxe hospital bed with the softest pillows and beddings, and he had four trays full of his favourite foods, prepared to perfection, and wore silk pyjamas. He nibbled on a slice of cheese and watched as the professors tried to free Professor Snape.

Professor Sprout was dabbing her forehead with a handkerchief as she tried calming her breath. Flitwick and Dumbledore were throwing spell after spell at the invisible barrier and McGonagall was standing to the side with Pomfrey, discussing the matter. If Harry hadn’t been the cause of the commotion he would have been greatly amused by it. But being under the constant death glare from Snape was unnerving enough to kill all attempts at levity.

Suddenly a new commotion was heard as an invasion of red heads made their way through the door.

“Harry!” his name sounded in a multitude of voices. The Red Hair Brigade made its way past the stunned professors and over to Harry’s bed. Within moments he was surrounded and being hugged tightly by Mrs. Weasley while being patted on the back – and arms and legs and feet (any part of him they could reach, really) by Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, Percy and Arthur. Just as he thought he would pass out from lack of oxygen Mrs. Weasley held him out at arms length and smiled a teary eyed smile at him.

“Oh my poor Harry, let me look at you!” she sniffled.

“Nice ears, Harry.” Fred said – or was it George?

“Yeah, they’re right to the point.” George said – or was it Fred? The twins laughed, while the others smiled at their antics.

“Never figured you for an elf, Harry, but it suits you.” Charlie said, making Harry blush. He didn’t often get complements on his looks, so he always turned crimson when he got some.

“Thanks, Charlie.” He mumbled.

“What happened to you?” Charlie had a large bandage on his neck and presumably down his chest, though it was covered by his shirt.

“Oh, just had a discussion with a dragon.”

He shrugged and waved off his mother’s hand as she fussed over him. There was a loud yell in the back ground where the professors were still trying to spring Professor Snape from his jail. Dumbledore was sending a bright purple spell at the barrier which lit up blue but held just as firmly as ever.

“Merlin’s beard! What is going on?” Arthur said, his hand still resting on Harry’s shoulder. Harry flushed deep red again and sank a bit into the bedding. The Weasley’s were all staring at the commotion and didn’t notice. Then the doors opened again and in rushed Hermione, Ron and Ginny. When Ginny noticed her family she forgot all about Harry and hugged her parents. Ron and Hermione hurried over to Harry, though Hermione gave the professors an odd glance as she passed them. As soon as she was past them she ran over to the bed and threw herself into Harry’s arms. Charlie just managed to pull one of the twins out of her path or he would have been bowled over.

Harry had the most peculiar reaction to Hermione, though none of the Weasley’s discovered it. Normally he would be quite comfortable with her hugs, suffocating though they were. She had been hugging him since first year. It was normal. It was nice. It was Hermione. But this time he instantly felt something he had never felt before. A single thought appeared in his mind.

‘Mine.’

When she moved to pull away again he growled a warning. He wasn’t about to let her go. She struggled and he was too weak still to prevent her. She looked at him with concern and contemplation.

“Harry, what..?”

She never got to finish, as Ron pushed past her and dunked Harry on the shoulder, making him wince a little.

“Harry, mate,”

Harry’s heart did a summersault at that word. Again the overwhelming feeling of possessiveness and the thought: ‘Mine.’ made it self known. He didn’t really hear what Ron was saying next. Nor did he notice when both Ron and Hermione were staring at him. What in Merlin’s name was going on?

“Harry? Harry? Earth to Harry?”

“Oi, Harry? Can you hear us, mate?” Harry blinked out of his stupor.

“Mine.” He whispered.

“What was that, Harry dear?” Mrs. Weasley asked her eyes still on Snape and the professors.

“Mine.” Harry said louder and with conviction. Then he grabbed Hermione and Ron by the wrists and pulled them as close as he could, making Ron tumbled down on top of him and Hermione stumble with a little startled yelp.

“Both mine.” He growled at the other Weasley’s and sent a wary glance at the preoccupied professors. He drew a protective arm around Hermione and half leaned over Ron who was struggling to get up.

“Mine.” He repeated.

“Oh my.” Arthur said as the rest of the family gasped and spluttered.

“Oi, let me go. Harry this isn’t funny.” Ron was protesting.

“Harry, let go.” Hermione said and gave a slight pull, making him clutch tighter.

“Harry? Mr. Weasley, do you know what is happening?”

She looked at Harry with growing concern. Ron made another protest. Arthur looked at them. Mrs. Weasley wiped her nose on her hanky and looked caught between a smile and worry.

“It seems Harry has chosen his mate, or in this case, mates.”

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“ARE YOU COMPLETELY STARK RAVING BONKERS?”

Ron was pacing up and down the floor of the hospital wing. The rest of the Weasley’s were seated on various beds around Harry. Hermione was standing at the foot of Harry’s bed; reluctant to leave him but unwilling to abandon Ron to his temper tantrum either. Harry was curled up in bed; halfway in tears, and feeling miserable. One of his chosen mates was rejecting him and the other was undecided. Snape was still trapped in the invisible cage and glaring at him. When he had gotten up that morning – all right it was twelve mornings ago – he had been human with two best friends; now he was an elf with two mates that didn’t want him, who were now also sure to be his two former best friends. Harry whined in misery. You’re whining now? Seriously? Harry get a grip. You defeated Voldemort. You can get through this. He whimpered miserably.

Then suddenly a pair of arms were around him and a strong masculine scent was in the air. Charlie, his subconscious provided. He burrowed into the embrace, accepting the comfort that was given. The fact that this was Charlie and not Ron or Hermione made him even sadder and tears began to well up. He closed his eyes firmly shut, refusing to allow them to fall. Seriously, how old are you, Harry? He told himself.

“It’s okay, Harry. Everything is going to be okay.” Charlie was whispering to him and stroking his back. Harry shook his head. No it wasn’t going to be okay. They didn’t want him. His mates didn’t want him. That would never be okay. He could feel another hand stroking his hair gently – the owner was identified as Arthur Weasley by Harry’s subconscious use of magic. Though he wasn’t really aware of it he knew where every single magical signature in the room was located and who they were. In the background he could hear his mates arguing loudly.

Suddenly there was a loud piercing whistle cutting through all the yelling and talking. Everybody turned and looked at Percy.

“This is accomplishing nothing, but making us all deaf and unhappy.” He said in a tired, prim voice. The twins went over and each slapped an arm over Percy’s shoulders.

“Nice whistle, Perce.”

“Yeah, where did you learn to do that?” they asked. Percy smiled a rare smile and flicked his head in their older brother’s direction.

“Bill taught me.” Bill smiled like a rouge at them and winked. Mrs. Weasley frowned disapprovingly at them.

“Can you.”

“Teach us?” they asked speaking in turns.

“Now don’t you go about putting ideas into their heads. There’d never be a moment’s peace if they know how to whistle like that.” Mrs. Weasley scolded. Both Percy and Bill held up their hands in surrender – a gesture remarkably like one often used by their father.

“Aww, Muuuum.” The twins whinged in unison.

“Be that as it may, we do have other more important things to worry about.” Arthur said, drawing the crowds attention to Harry, who was miserably sobbing into Charlie’s shirt clad chest.

“Oh Harry.”

Mrs. Weasley pushed Arthur out of her way and began stroking Harry’s back and hair, whispering words of comfort to him. Charlie rocked him gently, as he had so many times with his younger siblings when they had been unhappy. Harry was like another little brother to him and a member of the family; hence the reason for them flocking to Hogwarts when the news about Harry had reached them.

Madam Pomfrey made her way through the throng of red heads and soon was able to cast a diagnostic spell on Harry.

“Mhm. It is as I suspected.” She told the people looking at her expectantly.

“Harry, you are experiencing some hormonal fluctuations that are causing your emotions to be unstable.”

There were nods of understanding and sighs of relief all around. Okay that would explain the crying and the clinging, he thought.

“But that is not all, I’m afraid.” Harry glanced over his shoulder to look at her fearfully. What now?

“You seem to be going through the initial stage of rejection.” There were shocked gasps. Harry looked at her in confusion and worry.

“No!” Hermione was at the foot of the bed, looking shocked.

“Yes.”

Madam Pomfrey gave her a stern look. By now several of the teachers had circled the bed as well, though at a respectful distance. Snape was standing glowering in his cage, temporarily abandoned. Ron stepped a little closer, so as to better be able to hear the conversation.

“Poppy, are you certain?” Dumbledore asked quietly, the twinkle in his eye greatly diminished. This was his de facto grandson they were talking about. Madam Pomfrey straightened to her full height and adjusted her apron.

“Headmaster, I do not go around questioning how you do your job; kindly refrain from questioning me on mine.”

“My apologies, Poppy, I meant no offence. It’s just that…” he gave a slight wave of his hand in Harry’s direction.

“I know, Albus… but there is no doubt about it. The scan was quite clear.”

The headmaster’s face fell and people in general seemed to slump. Harry was just about to yell at them to tell him already, when Ron stepped into the circle next to Hermione and asked:

“What’s wrong with Harry?”

Hermione sobbed and threw her arms around Ron’s neck. He patted her on the back, but kept looking at the adults. The sight of his one mate weeping and clinging on to his other mate and knowing that he wasn’t wanted to comfort them broke Harry’s heart and he dove back into Charlie’s chest and renewed his own bout of crying. Several pairs of arms surrounded him and their hands were stroking him, trying to calm him down.

“When an elf has chosen his or her mate or mates it is of great importance that they are able to claim them. If the mates reject them the elf will go into a deep depression. The elf will then become actively suicidal. If however they are unable to commit suicide, they will become catatonic and slowly fade away into death.”

This was said by Professor McGonagall, as it seemed neither Pomfrey nor Dumbledore were willing to announce the truth to the boy. Ron paled as he looked from his professor to Harry, who was sobbing even worse.

“Bloody hell.” Ron said.

“Way to go, Ron.” Fred said angrily.

“You-know-who couldn’t kill Harry, so now you try to instead?”

“George!” most of the people around them said.

“Sorry.” George said, but he still scowled at his little brother.

“There must be something we can do?” Ginny asked, finally breaking out of her pensive silence. She wasn’t at all happy with Harry choosing Ron and Hermione over her, but she would much rather that he remained alive and happy, than dead. Dumbledore shook his head quietly.

“I’m sorry, Miss Weasley, but there is nothing we can do.”

Hermione whimpered and Ron looked close to fainting. Ginny felt her tears finally breaking through her tight hold and flowing silently down her cheeks.

“The only ones who can save Harry are his mates.”

Hermione startled a little upon hearing this. Maybe it wasn’t too late? Maybe they could still save him? She had been enamoured with Ron for several years now and thus never really given Harry any thought in that way. But now she had been forced to look beyond that. Suddenly she had had the choice thrust in front of her and had found the answer wasn’t as clear as it once would have been. Ron had always been her romantic focal point and her very opposite in nature. He was everything that she was not and vice versa. But, she had realised, they had always had Harry to temper them; to be the glue that held them together. They needed him. Seeing him this broken; knowing he would die without them settled her mind as well as her heart. She would love him.

Without hesitation she released her hold on Ron and stepped around Madam Pomfrey and the others and moved to the head of the bed. Very gently she placed her hand on Harry’s back.

His reaction was instantaneous. The moment they made contact his spirit soared and he wrestled free of Charlie’s embrace and flung himself into Hermione’s. She quickly wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he grabbed her around the waist, pulling her closer. He burrowed his face at her neck and inhaled her scent, committing it to memory. There was still a gaping hole in his heart where his other mate should be, but he felt infinitely better. He knew it wouldn’t last however. He still needed Ron.

Ron stood paralyzed at the foot of the bed as he watched his almost-girlfriend turn away from him and choose Harry instead. It was his greatest fear come true. Greater even than his fear of being chased by giant spiders and that one had come true as well. All his life he had been in the shadows of first his brothers and then Harry’s. But then Hermione had shown an interest in him. Not in Harry. Not in his brothers. But in him. He still didn’t know why, but he wasn’t about to question it, not when the greatest girl to walk the planet had chosen him, Ron Weasley, as worthy of her attention.

And now she had turned it away from him.

For a moment he felt angry and jealous. Then his sense of reality, such as it was, reasserted itself. He should have known. It was always too good to be true. Why would a girl like Hermione want to be with him anyway? And why would Harry want to have him as a friend either. They were both such great people, were both beautiful and smart. Just look at them! He looked at them and was surprised to see Hermione looking back at him, holding her outstretched arm out toward him, silently begging him to take her hand.

“Ron?” Harry squeaked as he peered at Ron from Hermione’s embrace. “Please. I need you.”

“WE need you.” Hermione said with a smile. Harry put up his hand mirroring Hermione’s gesture.

“But…”

Ron couldn’t believe it. She still wanted him? And Harry wanted him too? It had been a long time since he had been so confused about anything.

“But why me? Harry, I’m not even gay. I’ve never even considered it.”

Harry deflated a little bit, but Hermione wouldn’t let him. She squeezed him a little tighter.

“I don’t know, Ron.” Harry finally said.

“It’s not like I’ve ever thought about it either, you know. But when you walked into the room and you put your hand on me… I just knew… that you are my mates. I don’t care if you are male or female, because you are my mates. It’s like it was always supposed to be that way… like my life would have no meaning without you.”

At this his voice broke and Hermione stroked his hair – why is everybody doing that all of a sudden? - and placed a kiss on his forehead.

Ron stared at them. They wanted him. Harry wanted him; had said his life would be meaningless without him. But it was all so confusing. This was Harry. His best mate since first year, his brother, his confidant, his accomplice, his fellow soldier in the fight against the dark and his saviour many times over. This was Harry. The boy who he had grown up with, who he had played with, studied with, argued and fought with, who he had discovered the opposite sex with, who he had exchanged blushing giggles with in secluded corridors, when perusing through a copy of PlayWitch, stolen from his older brothers. Who he had wanked along side with one drunken night behind the chicken coupe at home. This was Harry.

“Harry.”

His voice was breathless as he whispered his name, but the elf heard him regardless. Silently Harry disentangled himself from Hermione, though he still held onto her hand, and crawled down along the bed to where Ron stood - and still without saying a word he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on Ron’s lips. Ron stiffened and gasped, pulling back a little in surprise. But Harry remained as he was, with his lips just out off reach of Ron’s. For a minute they remained close together, breathless and with pounding hearts. Then Ron made his decision. He moved forward slightly and kissed Harry back.

The rest of the world around them faded to non-importance as they were completely absorbed in each other; registering only when Hermione joined them and put her arm around Ron. After several hours – or was it merely seconds? – they broke the kiss and Harry rested his forehead against Ron’s.

“Wow.” Hermione said softly, making Ron snicker a little, but Harry turned to look at her. Gently he put his hand on her neck and kissed her too. Hermione submitted to him without hesitation and soon opened her mouth, inviting him in. As he plunged his tongue into her mouth his hand found its way up Ron’s back, caressing him. Before things could get any more heated, there was a loud disturbance. They broke away gasping and looked around them to see that every other person in the room had stepped away to the other side of the hospital wing.

It was presumably intended to insure some privacy for them, but given that the majority of the people were still looking at them, it was a rather moot point. Most of them were smiling. Mrs. Weasley was dabbing the corner of her eye with her hanky and so was Madam Pomfrey. Dumbledore was beaming at Harry, looking like a proud grandfather. Indeed the only people who were not looking happy were Ginny, who looked a bit sad and Professor Snape. The latter was stomping furiously out of the hospital wing, swearing loudly as he went. The invisible cage Harry had erected around him must have vanished when he got suitably distracted.

Harry looked at his two wonderful mates and smiled in perfect happiness for the first time in what felt like… forever. After placing a kiss on both their foreheads, he pulled them into a tight hug.

Things were going to be different from now on.

They were going to be better than ever. He just knew it.

The end?

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This was actually just going to be a PWP exorcise with Harry, Ron and Hermione. But as I was writing it, it kind of morphed into a real story (without the porn!).

I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to continue it or leave it as a one-shot.
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He just knew it