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A Game, A Bet and a Dinner Party..	By : BirdofFire Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 11699 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I am responsible for all that you have read and enjoyed in... Oh, wait, wrong disclaimer. Ahem. All rights for the creation of the Harry Potter series are property of JK Rowling. I do not make any profit from them or this work of fiction & right

Chapter List
- 1-A Game, A Bet and a Dinner Party..
- 2-Part II
- 1
- 2
Part II

Dessert.

23:12 pm.

After the earlier revelation, Hermione had struggled to keep her mind clear. There was no way she was going to give Malfoy any more ammunition to use against her when the time inevitably came; no more than she already had, anyway. That meant no discreet glances (which she would now allow had happened more often she had previously admitted), no eye contact and, above all, anything that would remind her of that night was firmly off limits.

But, for the fiftieth time that month, her opponent was calling her bluff and she was holding a shit hand.

For dessert, Pansy and Harry had continued on with their Italian theme, serving three choices – all chocolate or ice-cream based, which, for everyone else, was the cherry on top of a fantastic evening. For everyone, that was, but Hermione.

See, she had managed to avoid eating either foodstuffs for over a month (cream was another delicious, previously-adored indulgence that had since become a permanent no-go area). Indeed, it was either that or risk tumbling head first into another memory. Admittedly it was just as delicious, just as satisfactory; but the aftermath was considerably more severe. Hot sweats, shakes and cravings: Hermione now had all the symptoms of a recovering drug addict. And one bite was all it took.

"Hermione, why haven't you taken any?" Once again Harry was the guileless doomsayer in this piece, innocent confusion written all over his face. "It's your favourite." Hermione's grip on her unsoiled spoon tightened as Pansy and several others looked over. With gritted teeth, she smiled briefly before heaping some Neapolitan ice cream into her bowl, but Harry was not to be deterred. Green eyes gazing meaningfully at her plate, he waited until she loaded her spoon with a hefty bite and plopped it into her mouth, the assorted flavours hitting her palate instantly. Nodding approvingly like a doting father, Harry turned away satisfied and, theoretically, that should have been the end of it. But, as the evening's events had shown, Hermione was a glutton for punishment. Once again and going against sheer common sense, she glanced up at Malfoy and Zabini. The two were gazing back at her, heatedly, indigo and silver holding her willing captive.

.. . ..

Trails of vanilla ice cream melted by the heat of Blaise's body ran down his golden sculpted torso. Hermione, mouth watering at the sight, caught it with her tongue, tracing it up to his tightened, dusky nipples. A husky groan sounded from above her and Draco chuckled from her left.

.. . ..

Unthinkingly, Hermione swept her tongue slowly across the swell of the spoon, catching the last few morsels of ice cream. Zabini swallowed and Malfoy's eyes became quick-silver.

.. . ..

Sighs and groans echoed around the warm, musk-scented room. Sticky, heated skin clung together as the three moved in unison, the silk sheets cool beneath their aching limbs. The blindfold now lay in the corner of the room, but Hermione's eyes were still closed, her heart thudding a metronome loud enough to wake the dead. Draco and Blaise moved swiftly, passionately, in and out of her, hands sweeping over her inner thighs and brushing over her nipples intermittently.

.. . ..

Still lost in the memory, Hermione's tongue traced across her full lips, teeth catching her bottom lip. Zabini's eyes remained locked on her mouth, sending a warm heat rising from her core, rippling from her toes all the way to her fingertips. The silver gaze of his blond counterpart held Hermione his continued captive, growing more and more heated as he presumably read her traitorous thoughts.

.. . ..

When a fingernail scraped across her swollen, pulsing clit, a keen ripped from Hermione's throat.

God. She couldn't take much more.

Pants, whimpers, more whispered groans.

"Oh, Merlin, please…."

.. . ..

Unable to withstand it any longer, Hermione dropped her spoon, leapt from her seat and rushed out of the room, paying no heed to her friends' questioning calls. She continued down the wood-panelled hallway and into the chrome-and-silver kitchen, where she collapsed, breathing heavily, against a countertop.

Why had she eaten that damn ice cream? Why? She could very easily have made her excuses, no matter how incredible, and left. It would have been a far better option than to bow to every weakness, demonstrate how badly she had needed them, how badly she still needed them.

For as much as she may have denied it to herself over the last month, she very much did. Daylight, with its various responsibilities and her harried work life (which had become admittedly easier since she had insisted on being transferred to Contracts as soon as she got back to London, keeping her from any contact with Malfoy and Zabini) was one thing, but when night came…. when sleep finally overtook her wracked, overtired body… that's when the dreams would make their unwelcome appearance. And morning would come, leaving her unbearably unsatisfied, yet craving her next hit.

... ..

The headboard was banging loudly against the wall but was drowned out by stuttered moans, almost-shouted groans and desperate keens. She couldn't catch her breath, not when their hands were causing such devastation on her senses. Not when her nipples and sensitive nub were being tweaked, teased, stroked, caressed and pulled almost painfully away from her body.

As her head fell back onto Blaise's shoulder, she managed to lift a limp hand to grasp Draco's sweaty shoulder. The two men groaned immediately, holding her even tighter and surging even deeper…

.. . ..

Merlin, how long could she go on like this? For how much longer would she be able to survive on as little as two hours of sleep a night, when there seemed to be no relief in sight?

"Hermione?" An instantly recognisable (and concerned) voice interrupted her thoughts and, too tired to resist any longer, she looked up to see its silver-eyed owner and Zabini standing before her, looking large and out-of-place in the enclosed area.

"Not now, Malfoy," Hermione pleaded, tiredly, raising a hand to rub soothingly at her throbbing temple. "Please not now."

"Hermione," Malfoy's tone was firmer. "Enough of this. You're exhausted and it's time you went home." The brunette stiffened at his words. Of all people, how dare he? After what he and Zabini had planned, after the way they had humiliated her.

Because it hadn't been enough for them to bring about the ruin of her relationship (although, in hindsight, it was a long time coming), mock and humiliate her. Oh, no; they had to make her enjoyit as well.

"With all due respect, Malfoy, why don't you fuck right off?" Hermione's tone was acrid, her eyes spitting sparks. Zabini raised an eyebrow at the former Gryffindor's uncharacteristic use of the expletive as a tick pulsed beside Malfoy's eye. "Do you honestly think that after everything you two have done to me, that I would want anything to do with either of you? Get the Hell away from me."

With that, Hermione tried to brush past the two former Slytherins, only to find her way unceremoniously blocked. The two tall men had closed ranks, rendering her a prisoner.

"Didn't you have enough last time?" Hermione goaded them, irritation fuelling the knowledge that, in the mood they were clearly in, Zabini and Malfoy could prove just as stubborn as she was. "Or is forcing yourselves on women how you two get off?"

Hermione regretted her bitter words almost as soon as they left her lips. Zabini's indigo eyes glittered with obvious hurt, while Malfoy only eyed her in clear disappointment and Hermione's heart inexplicably sunk. Truth be told, it was neither fair nor entirely accurate. She had been more than a willing participant by the end – a fact that she had also tried to push to the back of her mind.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" She offered, hesitantly, eyes now on the ground. "I just… I don't need this right now. I've had more than enough to deal with this past month, what with Vegas and what happened – between us and then, of course, the fact that you have yet to apologise –"

"Hermione, enough of this," Zabini started, crossing his arms, muscles rippling even through the material of his suit. "If you had answered just one of our owls or floo-messages you would know by now just how regretful we are about the entire situation." His words took the wind completely out of Hermione's sails. The former Gryffindor had thought that having Zabini and Malfoy apologise for the one-night affair would bring her closure. That she'd finally be able to move past the entire sordid event and resume her life, even pursue another relationship if she so wished.

So, no one would have been more surprised than Hermione at the slow, viscous stream of disappointment flooding her veins as well as the startling epiphany that she had never wanted an apology. Indeed, far from it. What she really wanted, what she needed, was a repeat performance.

One, two, maybe more. And Blaise had just made that clear that that was definitely off the table.

Hermione swallowed hard around the growing lump in her throat. Why was it that she was usually an emotional fortress (to the extent that several of her exes had always complained about her being 'emotionally unavailable'), but around these two she couldn't seem to control herself?

A large hand gently raised her chin and she was helpless but to meet a pewter gaze.

"What is it, Hermione?" Draco's voice was as gruff as his grip was gentle. "We understand that what we did was wrong and we're more than ready to do whatever you want to make up for it. As long as it had nothing to do with that awful charity of yours, S.P.I.T. or whatever it's called."

Hermione sniffed but couldn't contain a quiet giggle.

"It's called S.P.E.W," she said, huffily. "And it hasn't been in operation since Hogwarts." But she also couldn't prevent a small smile from coming to her lips. Zabini grinned, seemingly relieved at this, and Hermione was struck by how it rendered him even more beautiful.

"There you go," Malfoy was also smiling, seemingly indulgently, and Hermione noticed that it was equally as stunning. It also hit her that the only time she had ever seen them wear similar expressions of apparently sheer joy was on that night. "What do you want us to do? Say it and it's done."

Hermione's gaze switched between the two men, unsure of what to say. She couldn't possibly suggest it, with their shared history (the events of a month ago aside) they'd most likely laugh at her and she didn't want to let go of this Malfoy and Zabini ('Draco and Blaise', her inner voice urged gently) for anything.

Seemingly sensing her insecurity, Za- Blaise cleared his throat, drawing her attention from the white ceiling back to them.

"We'll do anything, Hermione," His voice was a quiet purr, eyes glowing. "You just have to ask." Anything, huh? Hermione gathered up all her infamously Gryffindor courage and resolved to hold them to it, by asking the question that had been frequenting her brain for over a month.

"Why did you agree to it?" She asked, breathless with anxiety. Draco and Blaise glanced at each other, clearly confused, before turning back to her. Not wanting to ask again, but clearly having to, Hermione raised her chin and met their gazes once again.

"Sleeping with me," She explained, only her fidgeting hands giving away any hint of nerves. "Why did you agree to it? You could have turned it down and requested something else." Her gaze switched from theirs to her hands, so she missed the questioning look Blaise gave Draco and the brief nod he received in answer.

"Why wouldn't we have agreed to it?" Blaise's uncharacteristically unsure tone brought Hermione's eyes back up to his, surprised. "Surely you know how we feel about you, Hermione" His voice grew deeper towards the end, eyes searing into her soul. Her heart continued to pound and her mouth grew dry as Hermione glanced at Draco for some much-needed clarification. There's no way they could be trying to say what she was hoping…? But he only returned her gaze, steadfastly, his eyes returning to their earlier quick-silver.

"What do you… what do you mean?" Hermione stuttered, confused. Draco's full lips stretched into a self-mocking smile.

"Come now, Hermione," he drawled. "There's no need to play coy. We couldn't have made it more obvious." Now Hermione was more confused than ever.

"Made it more obvious?" Hermione was incredulous. "You two have hated me since time immemorial, everyone knows that."

Draco and Blaise chuckled quietly, with the former shaking his head in apparent disbelief.

"During our Hogwarts' years, yes," the Malfoy heir continued, "Maybe even when we first started working together. But definitely not as of two years ago."

Hermione was stunned. Her mouth fell open slightly, thoughts racing through her mind at two-hundred miles per hour. There was no way they could be telling her that –

"We thought you knew," Blaise took up, chuckling quietly, eyes searching Hermione's in disbelief. "We were so obvious." He and Draco exchanged abashed glances once again as Hermione struggled to take in what they were telling her.

"Obvious?" She repeated, still stunned. "Far from it. All the mocking –"

"Playful teasing," Draco interjected.

"Tugging my hair –"

"Your hair is gorgeous; of course we couldn't keep our hands off of it."

"Making fun of my appearance –"

"We called you beautiful, hardly 'making fun of you."

"Constantly criticising my boyfriends, particularly Anthony-"

"Well, they didn't deserve you. And we all know how that prick Anthony turned out."

Hermione huffed, indignantly, as Draco eyed her, eyes twinkling with amusement. Blaise was still laughing to himself, quietly.

"But then…" Hermione trailed off. If this meant what she thought it meant. But there was no way. Surely, there was no way. Blaise, apparently taking pity on her, stroked her arms, comfortingly, warming wherever he touched.

"Yes, Hermione," the Italian confirmed, gently. "We couldn't believe our luck when that idiot offered a night with you as collateral. After having waited so long; having to stand by and watch as you paraded boyfriend after boyfriend in front of us, each one more unworthy than the last, we were finally going to get our chance. Truth be told, we would have cheated if necessary to make sure we won the lot."

Draco chuckled, agreeing, and Hermione's eyes flickered between the two of them, unable to believe her ears.

"So, you didn't cheat?" Hermione asked, quietly, eyes huge in her face. Draco's smile grew soft and he curled a chocolate-coloured lock behind her ear.

"No, sweetheart, we didn't cheat," He answered, quietly. "We didn't exactly have to. Goldstein couldn't bluff if his life depended on it and his tells would be obvious to even the most unskilled amateur. He had a good hand, but we had the best."

"So, then… all the candles and the chocolate and the champagne..." Hermione trailed off, disbelievingly, the ceiling spotlights seeming brighter than ever before.

"We wanted to make it as special as possible, even under the circumstances," Blaise explained, a wry smile on his lips, indigo eyes now almost visibly looking into the past. "We thought that if we could convince you to stay; if we just showed you what it could be like, that you might give us a chance to 'woo you' properly after we got back to London.

"But you never gave us the chance, tesoro," he continued, gaze alighting on the petite brunette once again. "You didn't answer so much as one owl, one floo-message. You ignored all our efforts to contact you and you even quit working in Litigation. Why? Was it that awful, that…. disgusting that you couldn't bear to even be in the same room as us?" Blaise's eyes shimmered with confused hurt and Hermione couldn't hold back any longer.

"No, not at all," She rushed to explain, switching her gaze to Draco to assure him of the truth. "It was the most amazing, the most beautiful- " When they continued to eye her, oddly unsure, she rushed on. "I only left because I didn't think you'd want to see me again and I couldn't bear for you to tell me that it was a mistake; that you would never touch a – a mudblood under normal circumstances –"

Blaise growled angrily at her words and Draco's eyes turned fierce. "Don't you ever call yourself that again," he growled, silver eyes flashing warningly.

"Well, it's what you used to call me, right?" Hermione persisted, despite their anger. "Draco, you made sure I had a wonderful introduction to that word."

"And I haven't said it once since the war, if you remember," Draco explained through gritted teeth, eyes clashing with Hermione's. "Not a day goes by that I don't regret it." At his clearly genuine confession, Hermione's momentary anger subsided, and she nodded briefly, accepting his apology. Satan was surely ice skating a few miles under their feet, because Draco Malfoy actually committing an act of contrition had previously been considered as only likely to happen in conjunction with a sudden wave of frost way down south.

At Hermione's acceptance, Blaise and Draco smiled, briefly, relieved, and the latter continued, "Of course we wanted you, how could we not?" the platinum-haired man's tone was almost reverent and Hermione couldn't help but be captivated by his words. "That's the main reason we turned up tonight. We knew that this would be our only chance to try to convince you to see us again before you got snatched up by another, lovelorn idiot or even just to return to working with us, where we could at least see you, even if we couldn't do anything else."

"Both of you?" Hermione had to be sure of this. There was no point in being half in love with both (because, she now admitted, that was clearly were she was, regardless of social mores or the various expectations placed upon her thanks to her position as one of the glorified 'Golden Trio') if they didn't both want to at least pursue a relationship. But Blaise didn't even have to glance at Draco before he answered,

"Yes, most definitely both of us," He was endearingly earnest in his intensity and relief rushed over Hermione. An irrepressible smile crossed her lips and she felt a familiar twist in the pit of her stomach. Draco slid his hand, that up until now had returned to toying harmlessly with her hair, down to the nape of her neck, tracing his fingers along her spinal column. A warm languid heat spread from his rough fingertips down, her nipples instantly tightening and an unbearable heat settling where she ached most. Blaise watched intently as Hermione's tongue moistened her suddenly dry lips, his gaze only serving to up the temperature in the room.

Slightly breathless, Hermione eyed her two former Slytherins, whose attention she held equally rapt. "What now?" she asked, arching slightly into Draco's still-stroking hand, unable to keep her gaze from Blaise's full lips.

"What do you want?" Blaise asked, reminding her of the last time he had asked her that question. Her eyes flicker to see that his are alight with knowing and a grin crosses her face. Glancing at Draco, she sees a similarly aware, dangerous smirk on his face.

.. . ..

"Just a bit more, please," she begged, between pants, nibbling on Draco's ear. He groaned in response and grasping her hips, tilted them slightly, hitting a spot that sent her spiralling. In response, Blaise whimpered and surged into her even faster, even deeper.

.. . ..

"Anything?" She almost whimpered. How could she be this close and they had barely touched her? How would Hermione survive what she was about to suggest? Blaise leaned in, the scent of sandalwood enveloping her senses.

.. . ..

Stroking hands, soft lips, a searing tongue sweeping across the tight points of her aching breasts.

"Oh, Merlin…"Blaise moaned, his fingertips dancing over her swollen nub, inflaming her even more. Draco's hands rasped over her breasts, brushing her nipples with every deep stroke he made.

.. . ..

"Anything, cara," He murmured, voice rumbling in her ear, warmth sweeping across where Draco's fingers still tease. The raven-haired man brushed his lips so gently across her pulse point and a moan left Hermione's lips.

.. . ..

Sweaty bodies moving faster and faster, a ringing in her ears.

Breathless, desperate.

.. . ..

"Can we –"she leaned over to whisper her suggestion into Draco's ear, which was now directly beside her mouth, his own lips occupied with nibbling their way along her clavicle. The scent of evergreen and unadulterated pure Draco almost overwhelmed her. A husky chuckle echoed around the cavernous kitchen, sending another pulse right to her aching clit.

..

God.

..

"For starters," Draco answered in a seductive drawl, nibbling on an earlobe that she had never before realised was quite so sensitive. As her legs gave out from underneath her, she felt four strong arms grasp her even tighter. "Hold on."

Hermione's eyelids fell shut; Blaise gave a rumbling chuckle; Draco traced his tongue down under her spaghetti-strap and….

*pop*

.. . ..

.. . ..

FIN.

So, what did you think?

Review if possible and let me know. I could be convinced to do a sequel if people would like one...

The Bird of Fire.
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A Game, A Bet and a Dinner Party..