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Semblance of Normality	By : Ladylala04 Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 28248 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise or the characters. They are a product of J.K. Rowling's wonderful mind. This story is purely a work of fiction and it serves for entertainment purposes only. I gain no monetary profit from this story.

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A/N: I just wanted to say thanks for all of the reviews, votes, and hits!!!! And thank you Salon_Kitty for your great Beta work!!!!

Harry wasn’t always the bloody perverted bastard he was today. He was once wholesome and innocent. Well, as wholesome and innocent as one could be when their secret ambition in life was to be the meat in a Ron-Hermione sandwich.

Harry would always chuckle whenever he heard that expression. He thought it was one of the most absurd sexual innuendo phrases ever. Likening shagging to a lunchtime meal? He just didn’t get it.

Damn this Tûz Pálinka is good. I only had three sips and I already feel like I’m starting on my fourth ale, the heavily buzzed brunette mused. He always slipped into a pensive state whenever he saw the bottom of his third pint. Ron had the uncanny ability to tell which round he was on by his mood. He could just hear the sexy git now, “Brooding, hmm…you must be done with your third. Have another so you can lighten up, you twit.”

Harry reached for the glass to take another sip then stopped. He didn’t feel like being lively or perky. He wanted to sit and brood about the complexities of love and attraction. He closed his eyes and thought about how he’d ended up in his current dilemma.

Well, he supposed it all started eleven years ago with a train, a pasty, and a missing amphibian; the train being the Hogwarts Express and the pasty being of the pumpkin variety. He remembered that day as if it were yesterday- sitting alone in an empty compartment, equal parts excited and scared witless about his journey to a new life and unknown future. And then enter Ron Weasley. The tall, peculiar looking ginger lad was all arms, legs, and freckles; and after a few shared Pumpkin Pasties and sweets, Harry decided that he was just… perfect.

Ron didn’t make him feel like an unwanted burden as his family did. Ron didn’t cast him aside and make him feel invisible like his Muggle peers did. Ron didn’t ogle and revere him as if he was some sort of messianic figure like the other witches and wizards he had recently met. Ron made Harry feel like Harry, and for the first time in his life, he was ok with just being himself.

And before the enchanting feeling of acceptance fully sank in, he was rudely introduced to a loud, brash, bushy-haired, know-it-all, wrapped up in an irritating little package called Hermione Granger.

Before working for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures , and before the inception of S.P.E.W., Hermione’s first humanitarian aid effort was helping a downtrodden little lad find his lost pet frog. She was so confident, intelligent, and assertive. She was everything Harry thought he wasn’t but secretly wished he could be, and now he realized that jealousy was the reason why, in the beginning, he and Ron avoided her like the plague.

Then after a series of events which included: a troll, self-sacrificial chess, Voldermort on the back of a guy’s head, the Heir of Slytherin, polyjuice, petrification, giant spiders and snakes, a black dog, an escaped convict, and a werewolf, Harry’s bond with Ron and Hermione deepened.

While his peers were discovering their newfound sexual awareness and interacting with the opposite gender, Harry was busy trying to survive a treacherous tournament and cope with seeing someone he knew die. So when mother nature finally caught up with him, she used her most devious weapon; a wet dream.

Harry remembered waking up one morning confused and sweaty in cum laden sheets. He had just had the most mental dream about him and Ron doing… stuff together. Stuff he only saw glimpses of men and women doing when he went down stairs late at night for a glass of water while Dudley was secretly watching the telly. The dream made him feel dirty and weird. The dream made him feel that maybe there was some validity in the Dursley’s claims of him being a freak. His questionable sexuality coupled with being kept in the dark from the Wizarding World is what caused somewhat-regular Harry to become filled with angst.

Fifth year was one of the most turbulent times of his life. He still doesn’t like to think about that year. He felt that his sanity was rapidly unraveling with Dumbledore and his secrets, Snape and his cruelty, and then he was having strange sexual dreams about Hermione. WASN’T HE SUPPOSED TO BE GAY?!?!?!?!?

He needed a break. He needed to focus on something other than the tragedy that was called his life and him wanting to fuck a bloke. Cho seemed like the answer. She was pretty and she was a girl and she wasn’t Hermione. However, just like everything else in his life, his little foray with her ended badly.

Then two major events happened to him. Sirius died and he almost lost the two people closest to him due to his kick-ass-first-ask-questions-later attitude. Seeing Ron and Hermione lying in the infirmary after the Department of Mysteries fiasco made Harry finally acknowledge that his feelings for them went beyond being best mates and even further beyond familial affections. The realization that he was in love with them frightened the hell out of him.

If he told them, how would they react? Would Hermione write a three-foot parchment detailing all the reasons a relationship between them would never work? Would Ron beat the shite out of him for being a poofter and possibly stealing looks at him in the showers? Through all their adventures, they had stayed by his side and he never wanted to drive them away because he couldn’t keep his own emotions in check. So, he decided ignoring his amorous intentions for them was in all of their best interest.

When he smelled Amortentia in sixth year, he made himself believe he smelled treacle tart, a broomstick, and something flowery that he thought he might have smelled at the Burrow. When in actuality, it was Hermione’s cinnamon shampoo and the brand of ink she always used. It was also mixed with the smell of Ron’s breath after he had eaten too many chocolate frogs and the redhead’s musky scent after a vigorous pickup game of Qudditch at the Burrow.

With some effort, the girl in his dreams no longer had brown curls and he traded the redhead’s broad shoulders for breasts. Slowly but surely, he found a person to replace them that had some of the same qualities he found so enduring. She was intelligent, brave, witty, and confident. She was Ginny Weasley and Harry was more than happy to love and have her in his life.

Then the war started and everything changed.

People important to him were dying left and right and they had Horcruxes to destroy; it was a living nightmare. Harry tried to keep Ginny a strong influence in his heart, but she was gradually becoming a weaker force.

Ron leaving during that rainy night in the tent had been a severe blow not only to the mission, but to their friendship. The weeks of his absence were some of the hardest he ever experienced but the only thing that comforted him was Hermione. The time they spent together was bittersweet and it reaffirmed his emotional connection to her. He was almost tempted to go and tell her his feelings then suddenly the silver doe appeared and he was given a reason never to reveal his secret: Ron and the Slytherin Locket.

He never knew his friend harbored such ill thoughts about himself. Ron thinking his mother loved him the least was preposterous, and all that stuff about Hermione choosing Harry over… well wasn’t that partially what he wanted anyway? For Hermione to accept his feelings and love him as well? For Ron to declare his undying devotion for the both of them and everything working out in the end? Well how could that ever happen if the one thought that almost drove his mate insane involved Hermione actually wanting Harry?

When all was said and done, and the horrifying locket lay shattered upon that flat stone, Harry knew what he had to do. He wanted to keep Ron and Hermione in his life, even if it meant a lifetime of lying to himself and denying his feelings. He forced himself to say he only saw Hermione as a sister and he told himself that he would take the real way he felt about them to his grave, which surprisingly didn’t happen as soon as he thought.

He defeated Voldermort and saved the world. He survived and now it was time to play Happily Ever After. So he tried his damnedest to fit in the role everyone wanted him to be in. He tried to hold on to the illusion of being in love with Ginny, but with each passing day, his perfect vision of a happy-ever-after with her was dimming. Until, one day Ginny just had enough and decided a clean break was what they both needed. Them no longer being together was all Harry’s twisted little mind needed to take its dark descent into carnal lust.

He had wanked to thoughts of Ron and Hermione in his Hogwarts days. However, now it seemed to have come back with a vengeance. But the perpetual deviant notions and obsessive wanking kept the other thoughts at bay. The other thoughts that almost made him risk everything and tell them the truth. The thoughts that made him continue to believe the Dursley’s were right about him after all; that he was indeed a freak.

Harry shook his head to clear his mind. He certainly didn’t mean to take that long and detailed a trip down memory lane, but when you don’t have your drinking partner there to encourage you to drink until you make an arse out of yourself, that’s what happens.

He pushed the half empty glass to the side and pulled out his wallet. He placed a large enough stack of galleons on the table that would pay for the drink and keep Aberforth smiling for a week. When he was closing up his wallet, he took a quick glimpse at his business card and smiled. In bold black letters it read: Harry Potter, Junior Auror. He really liked his business cards because his title on them was simple and it described who he was. He often joked to himself that magical folk would better recognize him if his cards had The-Boy-Who-Lived or The Chosen One printed on them.

Harry nodded at Aberforth as he made his way out the door and headed to the Disapparation point.

Maybe he should print out his own cards with his proper title on them, and in the spirit of capitals and hyphens it would read: Harry Potter, The-Man-Who-Was-In-Love-With-His-Two-Best-Mates-But-Is-Too-Shamed-And-Chicken-Shit-To-Ever-Admit-It-To-Them-Dammit!! Then it would follow up with his business address and contact information.

Harry let out a little snigger before he vanished.

End Notes: Sorry I didn't deliver the promise of Smut, Smut, and more Smut in this chapter. I always wanted to set up a back story for the Trio. I promise the next chapter will be nice and smutty.
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Semblance of Normality