Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

What it comes down to	By : melinda1293 Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 115219 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 43
- 44
- 45
Chapter 43. The Eve of Everything
Ron opened his eyes. It was still dark, still hours away from twilight. Hearing no disturbance in the house, he wasn't sure what had caused him to wake. Reaching out automatically to touch Hermione's sleeping form, he felt the tiny bumps along her spine as his fingers trailed down her back over the soft worn fabric of one of his own night shirt she'd worn to bed. She sighed softly at his touch and burrowed into her pillow, still facing away from him. Assured then of her presence and her continued slumber, he blinked a few times, yawned, and then pulled a hand out from under the blankets to scratch at his chest before sliding the hand under his head. It was then that he noticed someone sitting in the chair at the foot of the bed.
His adrenaline surged and he gasped in surprise, terrified for a split second before he realized the silent figure was Harry. His legs were pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them as he sat perfectly still. His chin rested on his knees while the toes of his bare feet hung off the edge of the chair.
Tonight was the first time Ron was aware of that he’d ever come to their room without being asked. Wondering what had driven him out of his own bedroom and into theirs, Ron turned onto his side, propped on his elbow as his heart rate returned to normal. It was a nightmare, most likely. And it must have been another bad one to make him flee to their room.
“Harry?” he called softly. “You okay?”
He waited, but Harry didn’t respond, which made Ron squint at him in concern. Unable to see Harry’s face clearly enough in the darkness, he wasn’t sure if he was asleep sitting tucked up in a ball like that or comatose from fear. He'd not reacted at all to Ron's startled alarm at noticing his presence, nor so much as turned his head when Ron had called to him. Sitting up to get a better look, he saw Harry’s eyes blink.
Okay. So he was awake, he supposed, or possibly sleep walking again. Perhaps too restless with anxiety about their looming task at the coming dawn for his mind to allow him rest well tonight. With that thought, the worry and concern that seemed to have become his automatic reaction to Harry overtook him.
Ron really had no idea what had driven him out of his own bed to sit at the foot of theirs in the darkness, for who knew how long. His queries had gone unanswered, and pressing Harry wasn’t apt to get him any further details, either. It was just as likely that Harry didn’t know himself.
“Are you awake?” he asked.
Harry nodded once, yet remained silent.
Ron closed his eyes briefly in thankful relief. “Come here, then,” he beckoned.
To his complete surprise, Harry obeyed. Without a sound, he left the chair and walked over to Ron, who immediately scooted over into the middle of the mattress, crowding Hermione so that she was now in danger of falling off if she tried changing positions and turned the wrong way in her sleep. Still watching Harry curiously as he stood silently beside the bed, Ron lifted the blankets. Harry swiftly crawled in next to him. Ron expected him to be cold from the way he was holding himself in the chair, like a frightened child. Harry was in nothing but his pajama bottoms, which was unusual, but he was radiating heat as he always did.
“You don’t have to wait for an invitation, you know,” Ron told him when Harry had settled beside him.
“Bed’s not big enough.”
“Well, if you’d have agreed to let us all move back into Sirius’ room, it wouldn’t be a problem. That bed is big enough.”
Harry shook his head, and Ron sighed at his stubbornness. But when was Harry not stubborn? It appeared to be his most dominate trait.
They lay silently for what felt like a long time. Harry was curled on his side facing away from Ron while Ron stroked his arm, feeling surreptitiously along the inside of his elbow for any telltale marks on his skin before Harry finally spoke.
“I'm sorry, but I can’t sleep, and I really don’t want to be alone tonight,” he whispered. Rolling towards Ron suddenly, he buried his face in Ron’s neck. Ron tilted his head back, sighing at the feel of Harry’s stubbled chin scratching against his neck as he burrowed into him.
“I know how you feel, but we’re as prepared for this as we can be, better than we were trying to get that locket from Umbridge, at least,” Ron said encouragingly, now stroking Harry's back soothingly. “We’ve got an inside guy… or goblin, this time. We’ll get that Horcrux tomorrow and we’ll be one more down. You’ll see.”
Characteristically taciturn, Harry merely nodded before kissing the underside of Ron’s jaw. Then he placed a hand behind Ron’s head to pull his face down and claim his lips, effectively circumventing Ron’s banal attempts at further conversation. Running a hand down Ron’s back and into the waistband of his boxers, Harry grasped a handful of his arse as the kiss deepened. Abandoning his curiosity and concern about the reasons for Harry’s sudden appearance in their room for his own carnal desires, Ron eagerly mirrored his lover’s actions, and they pulled themselves together, pressed against each other from chest to knee.
Ron was more than a little surprised at Harry initiating this, but pleasantly so, excited to be woken up in the night for some heavy petting. He’d drop whatever he was doing for this, even set aside a conversation about the fear of their imminent death to feel Harry’s body against his own. Hell, he wasn’t ever sure that Harry was really awake, or knew what the hell he was doing. He still hadn’t ruled out sleepwalking again, in which case, Ron was taking advantage of him. But he had Harry pressed down into the mattress, rubbing against him, and it was too late to worry about it now.
Breaking the kiss, he bent down to take Harry’s nipple between his teeth. Harry clutched at the back of his head in response, arching his back while Ron tugged on Harry’s pajama bottoms and boxers to slide them down his legs before kicking them down to the bottom of the bed where they’d likely never find them again. Pulling back, he ran his hands up Harry’s bare thighs, cupping his balls and rolling them in his palm while Ron watched his expression. Unable to stifle the moan that rose up through his chest, Harry arched up again, thrusting his already firm erection into Ron’s hand. He was obviously quite eager tonight.
“I’m asking, Ron,” Harry whispered breathlessly when Ron wrapped his fingers tightly around his velvet length and squeezed.
“You’re asking what?” Ron questioned absently as he leaned down to return to Harry’s mouth.
“I’m asking,” Harry repeated again, more strongly this time, pulling his head back to deny Ron his lips as he looked Ron in the eyes.
Ron stared at his shadowed face a moment before his meaning finally became clear. “Why?” he asked suspiciously, forgetting to keep his voice down in his surprise. He lowered it again. “Why now?”
Harry didn’t answer.
“We’re not going to die tomorrow, you prat! If that’s what this is about…”
“It’s not… I’m just ready to try if you want to,” Harry responded, his fingers trailing down Ron’s stomach to stroke a finger enticingly over Ron’s cock though his own boxers.
“No,” Ron said then, gathering his resolve and shaking his head. “Not tonight, Harry.”
“What?” Harry asked, sounding stunned at the rejection. “Why?”
“Ask me again tomorrow when we’re in the tent, after we’ve come back from the bank and are one more Horcrux down.” He leaned down and kissed Harry quickly. “Ask me again then, and I’ll know you mean it, and not as some desperate, last chance gift to me, or something.”
“Come on, Ron,” Harry pleaded, now squeezing the head of Ron’s cock. “I need you tonight. Don’t make me beg.”
“Damn you,” Ron growled. “You’re making me the bad guy here.”
“Then don’t say no.”
“Stop guilting me into this, Harry! This is a mistake,” Ron hissed warningly, but he was crumbling, and Harry knew it. He badly wanted Harry, was desperate to try, and it was a difficult thing to refuse when Harry was so willing and insistent. God damn him!
“You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you? Harry asked petulantly as his hand slipped past the elastic of Ron’s pants. “Fine. Please, Ron? Please will you fuck me?” Licking his lips, he ran his thumb around the rim of Ron’s prick before leaning into him. But Ron jerked back, feeling suddenly panicked as warning sirens blared in his head.
Startling Harry, Ron quickly rolled over him and off the bed as if it had just burst into flames around him. Harry stared up at him a moment, dumbfounded before sitting up. Then he slid off the bed himself to stand naked in front of Ron.
Bloody hell, he was magnificent! His body seemed to glow slightly in the dim moonlight, as if the heat from his body cast a visible aura around him.
“What’s wrong? I know you want this from me, Ron,” he whispered, taking a step forward.
“Why are you doing this?” Ron demanded in a harsh whisper. Stepping back from Harry, Ron maintained his distance, as if afraid for him to get too close lest he lose control of the tenuous grip on his own self-control. Already his voice was unsteady and his body tremulous at the sight of Harry beautifully aroused and stubbornly resolute.
Harry took another step closer anyway, closing the gap between them again as if stalking his prey. Lifting his arm, he slowly reached out to Ron, who just stood there this time. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. The room was chilled with the night air, but he felt much too warm. Then Harry’s fingertips brushed against his arm as he came even closer. Ron jerked back to life at the feel of those unnaturally warm fingers. Glaring at Harry with a sudden anger that that didn’t warrant the occasion of being offered what he’d long wanted, he shoved Harry backwards so that the smaller wizard stumbled slightly.
“Stop it!” Ron hissed as Harry spread his arms wide, palms up to Ron in a gesture of surrender. His head was turned to the side, jaw clenched, his features resigned for a moment before he slowly faced Ron again and penetrated him with that stare. His mouth was a grim line of determination, but otherwise, his features were composed again, the mask back in place.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. His hands slowly dropped back to his sides, and then in that same slow way, he sank to his knees in front of Ron. Staring up at him now, those eyes pleaded with him. “Please don’t turn me away, Ron. I need you… I need you tonight,” he begged.
His hand came up again while Ron stared down at him, open mouthed, nearly swaying on the spot. His whole body throbbed with desire for Harry. Kneeling in front of Ron, Harry pleaded with his words, surrendering, yet demanding Ron’s surrender at the same time.
Without his invitation, Ron was irresistibly reminded of seeing Harry naked and on his knees like this before, on the dirt floor of the Malfoy cellar. Pleading then, too, he’d begged Bellatrix for their lives, begged her to spare them from the cruelty she and the others had inflicted on him. Then, another unwelcome memory came to him, another scene of desperation. Ron saw Harry once more like this, on his knees in the bathroom, begging Ron to help him after Dobby died. He’d wanted Ron to hurt him then.
“I need it to hurt, Ron.” He’d said.
That’s what he wanted tonight, too, Ron realized with certainty. Harry was looking for something to take the edge off his fear of what tomorrow would bring, or of what his subconscious had tormented him with tonight. He didn’t crave sex. He craved pain, or a different kind of fear to drown out the rest. But fuck that! Ron wasn’t going to oblige him. Not like this.
“You don’t want me to fuck you. You want me to hurt you, don’t you? That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” he accused, his conviction making him feel sick, like he had when he discovered that Harry had been cutting himself over and over again for relief.
Harry shook his head in denial, but Ron didn’t believe him.
“I don’t want this, Harry,” he lied.
“Yes, you do. You’ve wanted to be inside me from the very first time you ever snogged me. You would have taken me then and every night since then if I hadn’t stopped you. We both know it. So what’s changed?”
“Not… not like this,” Ron whispered, which was the complete truth. This was all wrong. This was not how this was supposed to happen between them.
“How then? I’m willingly offering you what you want, Ron. Even begging you, just like wanted me to. What more do I have to do?” Then those warm fingers were on him again, sliding up the back of his thigh to the hem of his boxer shorts before Harry laid his palm flat against him. The heat was almost searing on Ron’s bare leg.
Snapping his mouth shut against the moan in his throat, a shudder ran through Ron, a spasm of fear and desire, of desperate longing. Harry watched the conflict within him, watched his resolve crumbling as he kneeled before him, his eyes never wavering from Ron’s.
Ron realized hopelessly that Harry had finally come to understand how much power he held over him. He’d discovered how to wield it. Harry had learned exactly how to play him, capitalizing on Ron’s weakness for him. Harry was manipulating him, asking for what he knew Ron wanted to get what he really wanted, which Ron knew in his heart was something entirely different.
“I need you, Ron. Please. I’ll do anything… I’ll do whatever you want me to do,” he whispered when Ron remained silent, jaw all but clenched. “You can psychoanalyze me, later. I know you want to, but fuck me first… please. Give me back what they took from me, Ron. Give me back the power they stole.”
“Nooooo,” Ron moaned. “I can’t, Harry.”
If only he could. Without hesitation, he would reach into his own chest, rip out his still beating heart and hand it to Harry if he thought it would make him whole again. But this? What he was asking? Ron feared it would only destroy Harry more, and him and Hermione right along with him. Yet, if he refused, Harry would likely find another method to relieve the pressure inside him, probably with the pointy edge of a cold steel blade.
“You promised you’d help me,” Harry accused. “You told me to come to you if I needed help. Well, I need help, Ron. I need you to help me now.” Not giving in, Harry’s hand went higher, urging Ron closer as he leaned in. Then he pressed his lips against Ron’s stomach, kissing him below the navel once before moving lower to nuzzle against the underside of his erection which was thick and hard, tenting the front of his boxers.
Ron couldn’t stop the desperate moan that fought its way out of him this time as the head of his cock tingled with the desire to orgasm at the feel of Harry’s lips and warm breath on him through the soft cotton fibers. Unable or unwilling to move away, Ron’s feet remained rooted to the floor. His cock was oblivious to his conflict. It had no conscience. It wanted everything Harry was offering.
“Let’s wait,” Ron moaned as Harry mouthed him again, blowing hot breath on him. “Just one more day… please, mate.”
Harry shook his head and stuck out his tongue, dampening the cloth with his saliva as he licked up the underside of Ron’s eager shaft. Feeling light headed, his whole body shuddering as goose bumps erupted across his chest, Ron cursed under his breath.
Smiling slowly in triumph as he stared up at him, Harry reached down between his legs then, to stroke his own erect cock. That’s when Ron caved.
“Fuck! You know I can’t say no to you, you bastard,” he growled, yanking Harry to his feet and crushing him against his own chest as he took possession of his mouth. “I hate you for this!”
“Liar,” Harry whispered against Ron’s frantic mouth as his hands slid over Ron’s arse to grip him.
Ron all but carried him back to the bed, where Hermione still lay sleeping, oblivious to the potentially disastrous decision Harry had just made for them all. Forcefully pushing Harry onto his back, Ron crawled on top of him before throwing the blanket back over them and shifting quickly down his body to engulf him.
Harry let out a startled gasp of surprise, before muffling it with his hand. Then it was only the sound of Ron’s wet tongue on Harry’s hard shaft and the rustle of sheets from his head brushing against them as he pulled on him furiously with his mouth. Harry didn’t make a sound that Ron could hear. His only concession was to shift his leg up and plant his foot on the bed, pushing against it and letting it slip back down again over and over as if he were trying to slide out from under Ron while he fought against the urge to thrust his hips against Ron’s face. When his climax approached, Harry’s stomach clenched and his body stiffened. Then he came almost silently into Ron’s mouth.
Ron sucked him dry and then licked his spent cock clean again before crawling back up his body. His own cock was aching, but he was half hoping that the orgasm he’d just given Harry would curb his willingness to allow Ron to bugger him. Perhaps Harry would simply return the favor with his own mouth. But Harry made no move to take Ron’s throbbing erection into his hand. He only looked up at him expectantly.
“It’s not enough, Ron. You said when your mouth wasn’t good enough anymore. I need something more tonight.”
“Are you absolutely sure?” he asked, giving Harry one last chance to back out of this. Please say no, please say no, he thought furiously.
Harry nodded. “I’m sure, Ron.”
“Fuck,” Ron growled, but he didn’t hesitate. Rolling Harry onto his stomach, Ron pushed his unresisting legs apart with his knee before settling himself between them. Then he rested most of his weight on Harry, working his mouth and tongue over his neck and down his back between his shoulder blades as he pressed his arousal into Harry’s arse.
Harry’s body stiffened under him as if bracing for the painful penetration, but Ron had no intention of taking him quickly. He knew Harry was really craving pain tonight, no matter how much he denied it, but Ron was going to do his damndest to prevent it. Instead, he continued to edge his way down Harry’s spine, massaging his arms, and shoulders to relax him as he worked his way down.
Truly, he had no idea how to even begin to do this, but instinct told him that he needed to go slow and have Harry totally relaxed if he had any hope of not causing him pain. His head was completely under the blankets again, his chest against the back of Harry’s thighs. His own feet were dangling off the bed which probably made them look like one extremely long, oddly lumpy body if anyone were viewing the scene.
Harry had finally relaxed, but Ron was feeling more nervous as he slid his hands over Harry’s arse. His heart was pounding with excitement and a more than a little fear. He was afraid of hurting Harry, of scaring the hell out of him. Harry went completely still, tensing again as Ron ran his thumbs down the cleft of his arse and over the tops of his thighs where his legs joined his body. Stroking him soothingly, rhythmically, Ron did nothing more until Harry relaxed again.
Then he added his mouth, placing his lips softly against Harry’s skin in the curve of his back. When that seemed okay, he added his teeth, lightly nipping at Harry’s back, his buttocks and his upper thighs as he continued the stroking of his thumbs. He was applying more pressure now, though, pulling the globes gently apart with every pass. Finally, he added his tongue, running it between the crease on the next pass of his thumbs. Harry let out a startled gasp, and clamped down his muscles.
“Shhhh,” Ron whispered, as Hermione shifted on the bed again. His warm breath blew against Harry’s damp skin and he stroked him once more with his thumbs. “Do you want to stop?”
Ron could hear Harry’s head brushing against the sheets as he shook his head, but of course, he couldn’t tell if it meant continue or stop.
“Yes or no?”
“No,” came Harry’s muffled response.
“Okay, just relax, then. I’m not going to hurt you. If it does, we’ll stop, all right?”
The swishing of Harry’s forehead was his reply. Ron took it for agreement as Harry slowly unclenched his muscles. Immediately, he went back to work. When his tongue finally made contact with Harry’s furled entrance, he yelped again, shuddering all over before groaning into the pillow.
Ron had absolutely no misgivings about touching Harry with his tongue, there or anywhere else. There wasn’t a single spot on Harry’s body that Ron didn’t want to touch and get to know intimately, to claim as his own. Harry always insisted on being squeaky clean for them anyway, nearly scrubbing himself raw before he would allow them to touch him, so that Ron had no thought of shying away from this. He wanted to, in fact. He was working on instinct alone, preparing Harry the only way he knew how.
Harry tried to hold still and keep his muscles relaxed for Ron, but he was squirming, jolting every few seconds as Ron lapped at him, restless against the onslaught of Ron’s tongue as he worked him.
“Oh, God,” Harry moaned, arching his back and lifting his hips slightly when Ron added his finger, pressing against his opening, yet only barely penetrating the ring of muscles.
“Does that feel good?”
“Yeeeessss!” Harry hissed. He was shaking, his toes digging into the mattress as he spread his legs farther apart for Ron.
“Cool.”
Harry was humping the mattress slightly now, whimpering as he rubbed himself against Ron’s tongue and finger which Ron was still barely pushing into him in rhythm to Harry’s undulating hips.
“Ron, what are you doing?” Hermione asked then, finally roused from sleep by their antics.
“I’m trying to shag Harry,” he replied around the mouthful of tender flesh in his teeth.
Harry actually chuckled. Ron didn’t think he’d heard that sound nearly enough recently, and it made him smile, too.
“Do you want us to stop? Are we disturbing you?”
“No, well yes, but I don’t mind.” She shifted on the bed, rolling onto her side to face them. “Harry?” she questioned quietly, a note of concern in her voice.
Harry didn’t reply, making Ron think that they were communicating silently, as they often did. Then she spoke again.
“Would you mind if I watch?”
Harry must have given another non-verbal reply because the next thing Ron heard was Hermione’s whispered, “Lumos.”
Ron crawled back up Harry’s body and pulled the blankets down off his sweaty face. His hair was damp and plastered to his head, but his calves and feet were freezing. Playfully, he placed a frozen foot against Hermione’s leg. She gasped and scrambled to get away as Harry got to his hands and knees, readying himself for Ron.
The idea of being behind him in that submissive pose, of taking Harry like that made Ron’s cock throb, but that’s not how he wanted this to happen between them, not the first time, anyway. He scooted up, stroking Harry’s back.
“No, Harry. Not like that. I’m afraid it will hurt. I want to see your face because I don’t think you’ll tell me if it does, and I don’t feel much like getting my dick singed here tonight, understand?”
Snorting softly, Harry turned his head to look back at Ron.
“I want you to know who I am when I take you. I want you to look me in the eyes. If you freak out on me, we’re all dead,” Ron said seriously. “Get on your back for me, mate.”
Nodding once, Harry complied, rolling onto his back without a word as Hermione scooted herself up to recline against the headboard. She pulled her knees up to give them more room on the too small bed, her lit wand at her side to soften some of the glare. Ron stared at Harry’s face, which was now deeply shadowed, so that he couldn’t see him clearly.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked one final time.
Harry nodded again. His own renewed arousal lay thick against his belly, evidence that he wanted some kind of satisfaction, but Ron required more than a mere head shake to take this further.
“Yes, or no. I need to hear you say it.”
Harry met Ron’s eyes, holding his gaze as he licked his lips nervously. “Yes, Ron,” he whispered.
Damn at that submissive tone! It made Ron hot all over. Christ all mighty! He didn’t think those two words could sound so seductive. Harry was surrendering himself completely to Ron’s control, and fuck if that didn’t turn him on.
“Thank God!” He breathed in relief, crawling on top of Harry.
Straddling him, Ron placed a hand on either side of Harry’s head and leaned down to taste his mouth again. Harry ran his hands up Ron’s thighs and grasped his erection, stroking Ron once before adding his own cock, pressing them together in his tight fist. Ron groaned into his lover’s mouth, bucking his hips as Harry worked his hand over both of their lengths.
Pulling Harry’s bottom lip between his teeth, Ron rested his forehead against Harry’s and squeezed his eyes shut, panting at the feeling of Harry’s shaft sliding against his own while Harry jacked them simultaneously.
“Tell me you’re ready,” he moaned, aching for relief. “I need you to be ready.”
“I’m ready,” Harry replied, releasing them both.
Again with the jolt of electricity at Harry’s words! Ron was so worked up that Harry could probably talk him into orgasm right now. Quickly shifting his weight, he allowed Harry to pull his legs out from under him, laying them over Ron’s and relaxing his thighs. Ron ran a finger over the slick head of Harry’s cock and then down his length as he scooted closer, spreading Harry’s legs farther apart.
“I could use a little help. How ‘bout doing that fancy lubrication spell again?” he asked, rubbing his finger slick with pre-cum in circles against Harry’s entrance.
As soon as Harry nodded, RonArrHarRo began pressing in, wiggling his finger past the tight ring of muscles. Harry tossed back his head, arching his back as he let out a long shaky breath. Warm silky wetness from Harry’s silent spell coated Ron’s finger as it sank into Harry.
“Relax,” Ron said coaxingly. “Just relax for me.”
He ran his thumb over Harry’s perineum, stroking him firmly until Harry’s muscles, still clamped tightly around his invading finger, finally relaxed again. Continuing the stroking of his thumb up to the underside of his scrotum, Ron began working the finger around inside him in a bit of a circular motion. When he felt that Harry was ready again, he added a second.
Grunting, Harry clutched at the sheets while Hermione began carding her hands through his hair to calm him.
“Okay?” Ron asked worriedly.
Harry nodded again, though his eyes were still squeezed shut. Ron held still for Harry to adjust again before sliding his fingers slowly in and out, working the wetness around.
“Breathe,” Ron warned him. Damn he was tight! “Keep breathing so you can’t tense up so much.”
“Unnhh… it burns,” Harry moaned as Ron added a third and began scissoring his fingers inside him to stretch him a bit further because his cock was going to be considerably larger. But as he attempted to remove them, the tip of his finger brushed against something that made Harry’s whole body jerk.
“Oh, fuck!” Harry gasped, staring up at him wide-eyed with irises that had gone entirely black.
It wasn’t an exclamation of pain, Ron realized. Intrigued, he pressed against that spot again more firmly, rubbing the tip of his fingers in small circles over it. Harry’s legs shook as he pressed his head back into the pillows and clenched his teeth so hard that all the chords stood out in his neck while he keened in unmistakable pleasure.
“Oh, my God, that feels good!”
“Really?” Ron asked in surprise.
“Yeah, stop or you’re gonna make me come,” Harry panted. Grasping the base of his cock, Harry squeezed to stifle the orgasm that had rushed him unexpectedly.
“Damn,” Ron said in awe. Harry had a secret button just like Hermione.
“Fuck me already!” Harry growled, shuddering and glaring up at Ron when Ron brushed against that nerve bundle again.
Hermione moaned. Ron agreed with her, Jesus, he was sexy!
Not needing to be told twice, he slowly pulled his fingers out of Harry to position himself at his entrance. As Ron stroked himself, liberally spreading his own lubrication and that of Harry’s spell over his cock, he slid Harry’s legs farther up and got to his knees.
“I’m scared,” he admitted, frightened now that the moment was upon him. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Harry.”
“It’s okay, Ron. I’m fine,” Harry assured him.
Ron was shaking as he pushed forward, breaching Harry, who hissed, bearing down against the intrusion. With only the head of his cock inside Harry, Ron stopped again to let Harry try and relax, though it was taking a considerable amount of restraint on his part. God, Harry was tight, and the muscles were strong, squeezing Ron, resisting him.
“Keep going?” he asked worriedly.
Harry nodded his head in agreement, though the movement was jerky, and he didn’t seem able to speak. Squeezing his eyes shut again, Harry bit his lips to keep from crying out in pain, Ron was sure, as he very slowly began inching inside him.
“I’m hurting you,” Ron said miserably when he was only about half way in.
“No… just… just full,” Harry gasped.
He shook his head in denial, but Ron knew he was lying. God help him, he didn’t think he could stop, though. Unable to resist the instinct to burrow his way inside, he strained to prevent his pelvis from continuing its relentless push forward because if he thought the outside of Harry’s body was hot to the touch, it was nothing compared to how hot his insides were. It was like his cock was being engulfed in an inferno of liquid heat. It was incredible.
Harry was holding his breath again, the skin around his mouth going white as Ron continued to bury his length inside him, filling him up and stretching him open. They were both breathing hard once he was finally fully seated. Ron felt light headed by how tightly Harry’s body was constricting him.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
Harry did, peeling his eyes open to stare up at him. He looked delirious.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Yes,” Harry hissed through gritted teeth, nodding his head. “Ron… you’re Ron.”
The sound of his name on Harry’s lips made Ron’s own eyes glaze over and more blood pool in his groin.
“Tell me to stop, and I will, all right? We don’t have to do this, now or ever.” He needed Harry to tell him now while he still could, before he started to move and couldn’t stop. Yet even as he said it, he knew it was already too late. The idea of being denied the gift of his body was now an unimaginable cruelty.
“No, it’s okay. I swear,” Harry assured him, his teeth still clamped tightly together.
Yeah right. It wasn’t okay. This was traumatic for Harry, for them both, yet Harry was determined to see this through. Feeling like a complete jerk, Ron pulled back slightly, and then pushed in again as a tear leaked out of the corner of Harry’s eye, and he gripped the sheets. Harry let out a trembling breath as Hermione wiped it away with her thumb. Ron may have been crying then, too, because things got a little blurry for a second before he blinked it away and slid out again, a little farther this time.
He wanted to stop, to end this now, but just as Ron was gathering his resolve, already mourning the loss, Harry, sensing his reluctance, shook his head. Opening his eyes, he stared into Ron’s.
“I’m all right, Ron,” he whispered, now gripping Hermione’s hand. “Please don’t stop.”
Eyes still locked on Harry’s, Ron obeyed, sliding into that incredible heat again, feeling miserable from the pleasure.
On the fifth stroke Harry seemed to have relaxed some, finally letting go the muscles in his thighs. Relaxing his fist in the sheet and the one around Hermione’s hand, he took in several deep breaths while Hermione continued to brush the hair off his forehead and around his ear, murmuring soothing words to him.
By the tenth, Ron couldn’t continue with the agonizingly slow pace. Harry felt amazing, which only made him feel even worse. Grasping Harry’s now semi-hard cock in the hand that was still slick with lubrication, Ron clutched at Harry’s thigh with the other to anchor himself and began to move, striking up as slow a rhythm as possible as he tried his best to pleasure Harry.
It was a bit difficult to try and stroke Harry at the same time as he was curling his hips into his body, but Harry seemed to appreciate the effort anyway, growing fully hard again in Ron’s fist. What he needed, Ron decided, was to find that spot again. Changing his angle, he shifted his position, leaning over Harry and folding Harry’s leg back against his body.
Ron was rewarded when he’d evidently found it after a few tries, as Harry let out a guttural moan and his body flared with searing heat. Tilting his head back again with his mouth open, Harry squeezed Ron’s hand on his thigh and around Ron’s cock with his muscles, his pulse visibly throbbing in his neck. Panting heavily, he stared up at Ron, his eyes growing huge and black again with his arousal.
And then it was on. Whimpering, Harry came hard all over Ron’s hand and his own stomach after about a dozen more strikes to that spot, which was a good thing because Ron wasn’t long after. Too soon his body was convulsing inside Harry with his own powerful orgasm.
When it was over, and his vision had cleared, he leaned farther forward on his hands and knees, bending Harry double. His breathing still labored, his heart still pounding, he kissed Harry passionately, sliding his tongue into his lover’s mouth to stroke his while he went soft still wedged inside Harry’s body.
He ended the kiss, but with his lips still pressed to Harry’s, he said accusingly, “You lied. That hurt you.”
Ron sat back up and eased his spent cock out of Harry, allowing him to relax his legs into a more comfortable position around Ron after having them nearly pinned behind his own ears.
“At first, it did a little,” he admitted. “But then… I don’t know what the fuck you were doing, Ron, but it felt really good. Where the hell did you learn that anyway? Who taught you how to do those things?”
Ron shrugged, feeling pleased with himself. “Instinct.”
“Well, you’ve got fucking fabulous instincts, then. That’s not at all what I was expecting. I didn’t know it could feel like that.”
“I’m just that great a lover,” Ron replied, smiling smugly. “I’m offended that you would doubt me.”
Hermione let out a snort of derision at his bravado, and Ron turned to frown at her. “Hey, don’t take my moment of glory away from me. I deserve to bask in my own delusion for a moment at least, after that masterful performance.” Then he turned back to look down at Harry. “In all seriousness, mate, you’re amazing, and I don’t deserve you,” he said earnestly. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
“I doubt that. But I’m never going to want to stop doing it now, either. Damn, you’re sexy as hell!”
Harry snorted. “Yeah, right. Sexy, that’s me.”
“You are to me. That was absolutely incredible, Harry. Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“Well, I’m certainly not going to get back to sleep after that,” Hermione chimed in, now stroking Harry’s chest. “You two look so beautiful together, and I’m all hot and bothered over here with no one to satisfy me.”
“Help us get cleaned up, luv, and we’ll see what we can do for you. I might need a few minutes before I can give another masterful performance though,” Ron replied, smiling as Harry captured the wandering hand at his chest and slid his hand into hers before pulling her towards him. Ignoring Ron, Hermione leaned down and kissed Harry, sliding her hands into his hair.
Typical, he thought as he reached for his wand. Harry always got all the glory, the little, fucking amazing prick.

In the gray before dawn, Ron lay propped on his side, staring down at Harry who was right where he belonged, wedged between him and Hermione. He slept as peacefully as a babe, probably more restfully than he had in days judging by how worked up he was last night.
He had to be completely exhausted. He’d come twice more last night to Ron’s utter amazement, forcing him to question just how many times Harry could get off in one night.
“Is that another rhetorical question?” Harry asked sleepily. “Or do you really want me to answer because I actually know the number.”
“Christ!” Ron growled, rubbing at his face. “How many?”
“How ‘bout I just let you know if we ever break it, okay?” Harry replied.
Then he sat up and kissed Ron on the mouth before curling up next to Hermione. He nuzzled into her neck as she stroked his head. He thought Harry might have fallen asleep before Ron had even lain down next to him and pulled the blankets over them.
Ron wished he could stop time, twisting the time turner over and over to keep them in this place at this moment, safe with him as he watched them sleeping. But it was nearing daylight, and when the sun did rise, they would go to Bill’s and get Griphook before setting off after the Horcrux in Bellatrix’s vault. Ron didn’t know what would happen then, but right now, he had Harry and Hermione in his bed, and he wasn’t going to waste the time they had left worrying about it.
Whatever was coming, would come. They had to face it, and they would, together. But right now, in this moment, they still had each other, and he still had another hour to gaze at them beside him and marvel at the gifts he'd been given. He didn’t plan to waste a single moment of it.

After a quick breakfast of toast, which was all any of them could manage, the three of them stood together in their converted drawing room. None of them voiced it, but each was hoping it wouldn’t be the last time they’d see Grimmauld Place. Instead, Ron tried to focus on successfully completing the task in front of them, trying to look forward to spending the night together in the tent, like old times. Hoping for the chance to be inside each of them again tonight under the stars, Ron wanted to make love to them both without the weight of this Horcrux hanging over their heads or around their necks like a noose.
He and Hermione were wearing clothes transfigured for the people they would be impersonating. Harry was in his traditional blue jeans, flannel shirt and hoodie, the invisibility cloak concealed inside his jacket and his Mokeskin pouch hidden down the front of his shirt.
Tucked inside his left trouser pocket, Ron’s carried his own personal talisman; the Deluminator Dumbledore had given him. Today was the first time he’d carried it since they’d met with Draco. It was his path back to Harry and Hermione, his insurance if things went bad and they somehow got separated from each other.
Hermione carried the beaded bag, packed with all their worldly possessions including the Sword of Gryffindor and the tent they’d borrowed from Bill. The sword was their only weapon against the Horcrux, the price of their payment for Griphook’s services, and the tent was their temporary shelter for the night, assuming all went according to plan at Gringotts.
“Don’t forget! We don’t use these unless it’s an absolute emergency,” Hermione told them sternly as she passed out the Decoy Detonators, and they each pocketed two of them.
Her warning wasn’t necessary. They all knew the plan by heart. She acted as if they might lose their heads as soon as they entered the bank and started tossing them out in all directions, but it was only her nerves talking. They had no plans to use Fred and George’s devices as a distraction to sneak into the bank, but they were their planned ticket out and back past the guards at the entrance with Hermione, Harry, and Griphook under the cloak if the Polyjuice Potion wore off before they found the Horcrux. If it wasn’t safe for Ron to follow Disillusioned, he would hang back in the tunnels until they were safely away before using the Deluminator to meet up with them. Outside of that, they were only to be used in an extreme emergency.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best plan they had and the first time they’d ever made proper contingency plans if things got bolloxed as they so often did with these things. It made him feel a lot calmer at least, which was something. God knows they were all a lot more nervous for this mission than they’d ever been before, and for damn good reason. They each understood all too well what likely awaited them this time if they failed.
Frowning in concentration, Hermione raised her wand to Ron, ready to begin transfiguring his appearance. She would take the Polyjuice potion right before they Apparated to the bank to give her the most time possible disguised as Bellatrix.
“Wait,” Ron said suddenly, grasping her wrist. “Wait a minute.” Then he turned to Harry who was staring at him questioningly, eyebrows raised. Catching him by surprise, Ron gripped him by the head and kissed him, hard.
Harry’s hands came up, sliding over Ron’s shoulders to steady himself as the kiss lingered and deepened, while Ron worked to mark Harry thoroughly. When they finally broke apart, Ron rested his forehead against Harry’s, still gripping him by the head.
“I wanted to do that before Hermione turned me into a stranger. I wanted you to remember that it was me.”
Harry nodded solemnly as Ron stared into his face.
The weight of their looming task had rendered Harry mute all morning from anxiety. In contrast, it gave Ron diarrhea of the mouth. Harry’s approach made him look much more dignified and much less stupid, but Ron couldn’t help it and realized that it was worthless to try. He had too much nervous energy to bottle it up. While Harry stood silent and calm like a rock of confident leadership with only his overly bright eyes giving him away, Hermione expressed her own nervousness by worriedly double and triple checking her bag, and going over the plans with them over and over again like a mantra. In understanding, they both let her.
“Listen to me. We’re going to be all right today. We’re going to get that Horcrux and walk back out of that bank safe and sound. You understand?” he asked sternly. “And even if I wasn’t absolutely sure of that, Hermione and I’d still be right there beside you.”
Leaning into Harry again, he kissed him once more, capturing his lips softly this time.
“I’m going anywhere you go, mate. Wherever the destination, whatever the consequences, I’ll follow you. Always.” He hugged Harry then, and Harry hugged him back tightly. “I mean, except to the loo. I’m not following you there. Well, unless you need me to, of course,” he rambled on like a moron, unable to stop babbling as he stalled for more time with them.
“Way to ruin a moment, Ron,” Hermione sighed.
“I truly hope that won’t be necessary anymore… Ever!” Harry replied softly. “But thank you, Ron. I mean it. Thank you both for… well… everything.”
“Okay,” Ron said, nodding once. His body was relaxing and his insides were calming for the first time all morning at the reassuring sound of Harry’s hoarse voice. Then he turned back to Hermione. “I think I’m ready now.”
Hermione nodded, her face wet with tears.
“I love you,” Ron whispered as he wiped them from her face with his thumb before kissing her, too. “I love you both.”
“You two are my heart and my soul,” Hermione said tremulously, gripping both of their hands in hers. “Wherever you lead, Harry, Ron and I will gladly follow. Whether it be to our end or to our salvation we will forever be beside you on this path.”
Leaning down, Harry kissed her cheek before he straightened back up, his emotions masked in steely resolve. “Then let’s do this,” he said grimly.

~.~ The End ~.~

Readers –
This brings us back into canon events of their break in at Gringotts and the battle of Hogwarts that follows. I have no intention of re-writing those scenes. I know that will disappoint some of you who thought I would take this all the way through those events. But I could never presume to do them justice, and it would probably take me longer to write than Rowling did penning the entire series.
This has just been my little sojourn into darkness with the trio and back out again, which took much longer than I intended (my sincere apologies) and covered more than I ever expected it would when I began.
Initially, I intended to end when Harry first woke up after their escape from Malfoy Manor back in chapter eleven. The entire healing process after that, and the relationship that developed between them, just sort of happened. I discovered it as I wrote it. But I’m so glad I did, as it became the true focus of this fic, which I believe it always should have been. I had written them into hell, and I couldn’t finish until I had written them back out of it again.
I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, though I know parts of it were very difficult to get through. Thanks to those of you that stuck with it…
However, I’m not completely done. Epilogues will follow as a final farewell to my favorite literary characters of all time. Thank you so much for reading and especially for reviewing. It’s been a journey that I have dearly loved, yet it’s also most likely my last, my one and only opus to Harry Potter.
– Greycie
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What it comes down to