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Gripes and Groans	By : JanisJ Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 17091 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I am making no money from this writing.

Chapter List
- 1-Gripes and Groans
- 1
Gripes and Groans

The real story of why Ron was so grumpy in the tent during the horcrux hunt-- and exactly what it takes for the trio to turn gloom into gold.

~~~~

The rain dismally pattered on the roof of Perkins' old dilapidated tent and matched the glum atmosphere plaguing the occupants within. Thoroughly disheartened by their lack of progress in the horcrux hunt, the trio was spending another desultory evening in the sitting area of their make-shift dwelling. If Harry hadn't seen the locket destroyed before his very eyes he would have bet money that it was either Ron or Hermione's turn to wear it.

His two best friends were back to their normal routine of sniping and bickering about anything and everything. Hermione hadn't completely forgiven Ron's traitorous departure over Christmas and the fiery redhead was trying to keep his discontent quiet, but it filtered through in his grouchy attitude when things looked bleak.

It was wearing on Harry's nerves; their spoken and unspoken vitriol grated against his conscience which was already raw with guilt and self-doubt. Tonight the oppressive bitter strain among them was nearly unbearable.

Hermione was of course poring over the heavy tomes she had brought along. Ron, adamantly insisting it was indeed research ("'Potterwatch' is our best way to get information on what's happening out there in the world!"), was on the floor fiddling with the dials on the wireless and swearing every time his password guesses turned up nothing. Hermione would shoot irritated looks around the cover of her book when his noisy outbursts disturbed her, but had thankfully remained silent so far. Harry was glad she was making such an honorable effort to keep the peace.

Harry had given up all pretenses on studying the texts of Hermione's beaded-bag library and was skimming an old Quidditch magazine that he and Ron had read, analyzed and discussed dozens of times. ("C'mon, let the man breathe, Hermione!" His best mate had stuck up for him, perhaps in another conciliatory gesture to make up for his previous abandonment. "He'll be no good to anyone if he's too stressed out to function!" To his credit, Hermione's stern expression had softened-- looking suitably chastised-- and gently relented to give Harry some 'free time').

Curled up in one corner of the threadbare sofa, Harry listened to the steady drip-drip of the rain and let his mind wander.

He was spending yet another listless night wallowing in self-pity. He kept recounting each of his past failures and all the seemingly impossible tasks looming ahead that he needed to complete. He also felt ashamed that-- right at that moment-- he was unsure if he was more depressed by Ron being back and creating more sulkiness and tension or by when his best mate had willfully left the other two-thirds of the trio to fend for themselves, betraying their supposedly unbreakable bonds.

Ron's stomach let out a huge rumble. Hermione huffed. Ron grumbled. Harry tried to ignore them.

The brunet didn't want to call attention to the awkward pressure building between them three. Ron, who was used to three square meals a day (and any number of snacks in between) courtesy of either Molly or Hogwarts for his entire life, was downright awful to be around when he was hungry. And his bad moods always transferred themselves most negatively to Hermione.

The grumpy redhead was becoming more and more frustrated with his fruitless attempts to find the underground radio program he’d tried to convince them was 'brilliant'. He had taken to slapping the box in escalating aggressive smacks while Hermione's lips pursed increasingly tighter and tighter until her expression rivaled that of McGonagall’s on a trying day. There hadn't been two more minutes of this potentially volatile situation when Ron's digestive distress protested loudly once more.

Ron belched. Hermione blew out a long, put-upon sigh and turned a few pages forcefully. Harry maintained 'Switzerland Status' and resolutely kept to his own thoughts.

Giving up on the wireless as a bad job, Ron flopped down on the opposite side of the decrepit couch (that still smelled of cats), scratched his balls then whipped the Deluminator out of his pocket. Noooo, Harry thought wincing, sinking further into the pillows in a wandless attempt to Disillusion himself into the furniture. If you use that it's bound to set her off, you fool! Harry's luck did not hold out as there was a click and all the lights went out, even the jam jars of warm blue flames Hermione had been so adept at conjuring since first year.

"Ronald!" Hermione's voice cut through the sudden, absolute darkness.

"Sorry. Habit," Ron replied, flipping the button and the lamps sprung back into illumination.

The disgruntled girl searched to find her place again and hid her face behind her book, obviously in an attempt to hold her tongue. Harry's eyes surreptitiously flicked back and forth between the two, starting to feel anxious that this would not end well.

Ron's guts gurgled audibly again. Massaging his belly he groused, "Eurgh, my stomach feels like crap! That ‘food’ was disgusting...." Harry could see the side of Hermione's face as she paled, looking about ready to snap. Her knuckles whitened under the death-grip she held her book in.

Ron appeared oblivious to annoying his companions and idly fingered Dumbledore's gift before he pressed the device's trigger, yet again plunging them into blackness-- But not a split second before Harry caught the embarrassed look on the redhead's face and the subtle lifting of one leg. Like it being dark would cover what he'd just done! Harry mirthlessly snorted, then immediately realized that inhaling deeply at that point was a huge mistake; the odor ominously creeping towards him was eye-watering.

"Ron!" The girl's aggravation was palpable. Harry heard his best mate gulp and the lights re-appeared. He looked sheepish. "Put that toy away if you can't resist it! I'm trying to read here. I'm trying to help us get through this nightmare! You need to stop acting like a pathetic pre-pubescent prat and either contribute or stay out of my way!"

"So sorry, I don't have your powers of concentration while starving to death!" Ron retorted back with a mutinous glare. "I need real food to live and think and can't survive on parchment and ink alone!" Hermione looked scandalized at the dig on her precious literature. "And don't start in on Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfiguration again! My mum or the Hogwarts house-elves really could have made something edible out of that, no matter what swill it started out as! Hell, even Dobby or Kreacher could!"

Harry sucked in a dismayed breath. His rash friend just HAD to press the worst hot-button issue there was after insulting Hermione's first love of the written word. Idiot! They were all hanging together by a single, measly thread as it was! And when the quarreling got this heated, more often than not Harry got taken down with Ron, unjustly lumped into the same category of ‘boys!’

"Well then, why don't YOU scavenge, forage and cook for us Ronald? Hmmm?" Her eyes were narrowed into furious slits and her hair seemed to puff out in self-righteous agitation. Oh, this was not good! Harry could tell she was gearing up for one of her patented scathing tirades. The fists balled on her hips were never a good sign (and though he'd never say this to either of them, she looked reminiscent of Molly Weasley just then).

Ron suddenly looked uncomfortable and squirmed in his seat. Harry hoped this was going to lead to an apology but soon learned he was sorely mistaken as he saw Ron shift his hips and angle a butt-cheek in Hermione's general direction.

The contemptuous clever witch didn't seem to notice what this gesture meant (her formative years having NOT been with spent with hordes of brothers, or a gluttonous cousin and uncle, or a bedroom full of juvenile male dorm-mates that had to share one washroom) and continued her rant unfazed.

"What? No witty response? Without Mummy or a handy little Slave-Elf to order around you don't know how to feed yourself? No?" she paused, drawing a deep indignant breath, and went in for the kill, “Maybe you could just BUY some decent food then!" Her shrill speech ended with her glowering defiantly at the redhead, daring him to answer.

Nooooo, Harry thought again, cowering and cringing, wanting to disappear. Too far! Too far!

Ron's crimson complexion suddenly turned grey. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped soundlessly. Satisfied that she had shut him up, the cross witch pointedly placed her wand in her lap and picked up her book. Ron rose abruptly with a pained grunt and walked stiff-legged to the en-suite loo, slamming the door behind him. Hermione shrugged without a trace of remorse and pretended she couldn't care less he was gone.

Several moments passed and Hermione had immersed herself in her musty pages when the most horrifying scent started to swirl around them-- faint at first, then got undeniably stronger. Harry smirked at the bathroom door, fully aware of what was going on in the too-small WC and noted that it was far too close to their sitting area for any true privacy.

He had to suppress a snigger as he watched Hermione's brow start to furrow behind the flimsy shield of her book; he watched in morbid fascination as her nostrils flared, then wrinkled and scrunched. She valiantly tried to continue with her reading. Harry was jiggling with silent giggles as her nose twitched a bit and she brushed at it subconsciously every few seconds, like a donkey swatting at a fly with it's tail. Apparently, she wasn't paying enough attention to hear the distant splattering sounds of devastation defiling the toilet bowl.

Harry smiled widely at his friend as he made his way back to the couch with a blush and a scowl on his freckled face. "Shut up," he mouthed as he flopped down holding a protective arm around his middle. Harry barely concealed a chuckle as he pinched his nose, fanning his hand. Ron kicked him lightly on his thigh with a socked-foot.

Hermione looked slightly green as the stench grew stifling, impossible to deny any longer. The nauseated witch lowered her text in resignation. "Harry," she balefully began, purposefully excluding Ron, "can you not smell that? Do you think we should move the tent? The stink of the river water is really getting to me. Maybe we should relocate further up the bank, away from that brackish marsh."

Ron's eyes bugged and tore the Quidditch magazine from Harry to hide behind. Harry could barely speak from attempting to hold in his laughter. "Uh, no, Hermy, that probably won't help,” he choked out, catching Ron's eye, "I don't think that THAT'S the bog we have to worry about...." Ron raised the rolled magazine in mock menace to hit Harry with, and then mumbled some indistinguishable curses at him.

Hermione unconsciously swished her wand in some intricate pattern and the offensive miasma cleared. "Ah, that's better...." she said more to herself than anything and went back to her book.

Ron fumed at Harry’s chortling then cracked an evil grin worthy of the twins and aimed his ass towards him. His mischievous face quickly turned into a panicked grimace and he clapped a hand to his back-side. He rushed to the bathroom once again. Harry watched him with amusement then turned to see Hermione's reaction.

"Eww! There it is again!" she squealed, pulling the neck of her jumper up over her nose and angrily jabbing her wand around again to purify the polluted air (thankfully taking with it the lingering scents of old cat piss permeated in the draperies and the fish they'd cooked for supper). Hermione still didn't seem to have a clue as to the origin of the pungent nuisance and resumed her research.

Harry shook his head in disbelief that the brightest witch of their age was so clueless; he didn't understand how she could possibly miss the impolite noises emanating from the bathroom and not piece together the evidence. But then, he figured, she had always been able to focus and tune out extraneous diversions when she was studying. After all, she was the only one who succeeded in completing the two foot mid-term potions essay in the common room during the height of Fred and George's testing phase of future WWW products.

This dance (hilarious to Harry, excruciating for Ron, and exasperating for Hermione) continued a few more times, with Ron slinking back to the group only to spring up again and urgently rush into the loo again. In his discomfort, Ron had now begun to crack his knuckles (and right big toe) while he sat on the couch, something he only did when he was nervous.

"How is it that he can still be so distracting without even saying a word?" she murmured to herself, barely registering her surroundings.

Finally, after the fifth time this had occurred, she lifted her gaze at the closed door when she realized that the taps were turned on.

"Oh dear God!" She exclaimed. "Has he forgotten the twins put their imbecilic Portable Swamp hex on the shower during the World Cup? Turn it off, Ron! Turn the shower off!" she screeched. (When they discovered that their shower was irreversibly contaminated that first day in the tent, it was a low blow to their morale-- Sure, they had all bemoaned the lack of proper bathing, but Hermione seemed to take it very personally that she was unable counter the spell).

"It's only the sodding sink, OK? FUCK! I'm not that stupid!" Ron yelled back, his voice echoing and muffled.

Harry winced to hear all the conflicting feelings boiling in his best friend; contrary to popular belief, Ron actually did have an emotional range far broader than the teaspoon Hermione credited to him. Harry could hear frustration, mortification, disappointment, fear, helplessness, despair, hope, love, thwarted desire, home-sickness, whining at physical illness and impotent rage. He flinched again as he could clearly hear another nasty onslaught bursting out of Ron's bum, not completely disguised by the running water in the sink.

The redhead emerged once again (amidst a fetid cloud so heavy that it surprised Harry it wasn't visible) and plopped down on the cushions. "What is your problem, Ronald?" the exasperated girl immediately started provoking him. "Are you purposefully thinking up more ways to get under my skin?" Harry held his breath waiting for Ron to explode (his temper was legendary after all).

3....2....1....

"Oh, pardon me, your royal highness!” Harry dearly wished he had been disappointed with an inaccurate prediction, but the classic Weasley bristle proved The-Boy-Lived’s questionable ‘Seer’ skills with acute precision this time.

“We can't all be perfect like YOU!" Ron sounded terribly petulant in his sarcasm. “What’s my problem? My problem is what passes for food on this god-forsaken mission! We all ate the same thing, yet you two are laughing it up while I suffer!" His chest was heaving and his eyes blazing.

"You may all have innards of steel, but I need actual food to survive, not some bollocksy half-baked fish and manky boiled mushrooms that my mum wouldn't be caught dead slopping our pigs with! I can't help it if shit is sliding through my system at the fucking speed of apparition, that I'm blowing my fucking guts out every two seconds!"

Now that he'd started, he didn't seem to be able to stop venting. He bellowed out his bile:

"I can't help it if the Snatchers disabled my bloody wand and I can't do anything more than basic spells or charms! And the one I nicked doesn't work properly for Harry! I can't find the other horcruxes! I can't fix things for Harry or do anything to keep us all safe! I can't be smart enough for you! I can't do anything....I can't...." he panted and gripped his hair in his fists, neck bowed as speech left him defeated and unable to articulate everything that was wrong with the world.

"Ron," Hermione breathed, "I swear to god--"

"Oh yeah?” His head whipped up, eyes icy in fury. “And what god would that be, Queenie? The god of Unholy Stench and Utter Emasculation?" Hermione just stared at him, completely affronted and gob-smacked; she looked close to crying. (Harry was dumbfounded that Ron knew such a big word as 'emasculation' and vaguely wondered where he might have learned it).

Then Ron's intestines bubbling broke the silence. He lurched forward, wrapping his arms around himself, trying to hide the fact he was blinking back tears.

Harry's heart broke in that moment; he felt guilty now for poking fun at his best friend who he loved more than any one else on Earth. He knew this humiliation in front of the girl he wanted to impress and be attractive to was the last straw in a long series of hardships and disappointments.

He felt responsible for dragging the rest of his trio on this wild and dangerous goose-chase even though they demanded to accompany him. It was his fault they were stuck in this impossible situation-- It was his fault they were all scared and miserable.

If it wasn't for him, those two probably would be dating like normal people, going to sappy dances and dinners, planning to get married like normal people.... They would have children and a wonderful life together, naturally blending their extended normal families together.... growing old with each other like normal people do.

Normal people. Not prophecy and scar marked freaks like him. Harry always knew he was on the outside looking in, but never felt it more profoundly than now.

Hermione's lips pinched a little in repulsion to Ron's vulgar language and rumbling of his tummy, but wisely chose to overlook the hurtful revelations he’d hurled at her and focus on what she could do to help.

"Ron, I'm sorry for being so short with you," she sighed and attempted to soothe him even though his words had cut her deeply. "I'm having a rough time too and I should be more patient." She was looking at him with such earnest honesty; Harry was never more grateful for Hermione's brains, maturity and compassion as he saw Ron relax a bit.

"Look, now that I know what the problem is I can help. I'll do the spells since I have the only fully functioning wand." Ron weakly lowered his head in acquiescence and allowed her to continue the lecture he knew was coming.

"First, we'll invoke the Imperturbable Charm to seal the bathroom from all sounds and smells while the door is closed, just like the permanent ones at the Burrow and Hogwarts." The boys looked at her incredulously as she drew delicate motions over the door frame and outer door knob, never ceasing to be amazed at her knowledge. Harry caught, 'Imperturbatem' and then a long string of Latin he didn't recognize.

"And I keyed the wards on the lock for each of our magical signatures…. Now we can each open the door at any time, so we'll just have to respect privacy if it's closed, agreed?" The boys nodded mutely. "And leave it open if it's vacant, yes?" The boys simply nodded again.

"Next, air-freshening....” She continued with a flourish and a flick (aiming at each wall, the inside of the door and a specific concentration around the toilet), "will automatically go off when the inner handle is touched. If it needs, uh, erm, more than usual, hold it for a few seconds.... or, um, as long as needed, and then open the door."

She looked a little embarrassed as she explained the "protections" she was administering due to exactly what she was combating, but somewhat satisfied and calmed to have something to teach-- and something she could feel some sort of measure of success with.

"Last, a Healer's spell for Ron: 'Chymen Expulsora'," she intoned, twirling her wand at Ron then swishing forcefully downwards.

"Gah! What the HELL?!" Ron doubled over, clutching his stomach. Concerned, green eyes rounded on Hermione, glaring at her accusatorily.

"Don't worry; it's just a purgative charm." Noting their baffled expressions, she elaborated. "It'll get rid of, um.... all your, uh, you-know in one shot, rather than scooting off the loo every two seconds."

Ron's face melted in relief then hardened into horror; he waddled with his cheeks clenched as fast as he could into the newly remodeled bathroom and vanished within.

Hermione looked smug when it was obvious her spell-work was effective, but Harry could tell she was still worried and grieving about their row.

Harry pulled her to him and held her tight, absolving her without words. She couldn't help but babble, "Please don't be angry with me! I'm sorry I didn't do the spells before, I just wasn't sure they'd be compatible with the outer wards, but, with this experiment I know they are now.... even if we are still trying to keep traceable magic use to a minimum…. And I don't mean to be so snippy, but this is all so difficult! We have so far to go and we’ve no idea where! This hunt seems insurmountable.... I'm not used to challenges taking so long to solve...." She sniffled.

"Hush, Hermy, I know...." Harry jostled her shoulder in what he hoped she take as forgiveness and camaraderie. "Sometimes I feel hopelessly powerless too. The future is so…." He trailed off, unable to finish that sentence in a consoling or positive way.

He didn't have the heart to tell her how many times he'd seriously considered packing it all in and holing himself up in Kansas or Timbuktu (or strapping dynamite across his chest and parachuting into Voldemort's lair on a kamikaze dive). At his most overwhelmed moments he could admit to himself that three kids trying to stop a Dark Lord was in fact, nothing more than a suicide mission.

She squeezed back in sympathy, letting him know she heard and understood everything he said and didn't say. "But at least you two have each other. You guys have fun despite everything we’re going through. I'm just a strict, business-minded stick-in-the-mud. And I'm just....alone....I...." she trailed off, not trusting herself to keep strong and not break down.

"C'mon, we’d be lost without you and we're going to be all right. We just need to keep depending on each other, be patient with each other and everything will work out, you'll see.... We'll come out of this just fine." Harry really hoped he was telling the truth to her.

As they all settled into their beds a short time later, he wasn't sure if he believed it himself-- but he really, really wanted to.

****

It was late and Harry was still wide awake. Again.

He was horny and hard and contemplating sneaking off to the bathroom to take care of it when Ron lowered his head over the side of the bunk. Harry blinked up at him owlishly, watching the blood pool in his upside-down freckled face, much like his own was converging and throbbing in his cock. He pulled his covers in a bunch over his crotch to conceal his erection. "What?" he hissed a little too harshly and instantly regretted his tone.

"Sorry mate, couldn't sleep.... Only wanted to take a peek and see if you were up," Ron answered sounding hurt.

"No, I'm sorry. I couldn't sleep either," Harry confessed. "And fuck, yeah, I'm 'UP'-- and I need get off like you wouldn't believe....It's driving me mad to have you so close by and not be able to do anything about it. And worst of all," he furtively whispered, "we have no where private to go-- she's too smart, she'll figure it out if we try!" He sighed, then magnanimously added, "And then there go your chances with her...."

"I know...." Ron all but whimpered. "But I'm aching here...." and Harry saw his shoulder shift and knew he was squeezing his own neglected boner. "Listen, just let me come down there and we can have a quick shag-- She completely emptied me out and I'm clean as a whistle." He tried to tantalize Harry further into finally giving in as he hadn't so far on this hellish farce of a camping trip.

Harry rolled his eyes at the lascivious brow-waggle he knew would be accompanying that admission and nearly groaned aloud at the squeak of the crummy mattress above when he knew that Ron was wiggling his hips.

And he wanted to give in and do it-- Oh god did he ever want to! His swollen prick needed attention, and soon! In short, something was going to snap for both of them, consequences be damned. He knew they were both skating on a dangerous edge of denying desire and release.

They'd had this same secret discussion almost every night since they left the many-roomed walls of #12 Grimmauld Place (barring the spirit-crushing separation of Ron's abandonment). Harry always adamantly insisted that they couldn't fool around in front of Hermione, not in the cramped quarters of the tent with her lying only meters away.

They would not be able to leave the tent without setting off the wards. And no, there was nothing to cast a silencing charm on-- not like the four poster curtains of the dorms or whole rooms to themselves at the Burrow or at Headquarters. ‘Muffliato’? The ear-buzzing too obvious to someone so knowledgeable and might wake her up. Both of them disappearing into the bathroom? Even more incriminating. They couldn't even count on the white noise of a shower since the twins had unknowingly cock-blocked with that particular prank-- not even for individual masturbating sessions! (They both vowed revenge for that one if they got out of this alive!).

They'd come very close the night Ron returned and pulled Harry out of the frigid pond along with the sword of Gryffindor-- Their arms wrapped strongly and desperately around each other, the ice and fire breathing renewed lust in their bodies, the all-consuming passion igniting with the reuniting of their souls.

But it was not to be; what with the threat of hypothermia, the taunting locket horcrux, Harry's feeling of being watched by the origin of the doe Patronus and the over-all weariness of battle fatigue, they simply headed back to the tent to face the wrath of a best friend scorned.

"Harr, I swear I'll be quiet," pleaded Ron, cutting across Harry's pensive reverie, throwing in his pre-emptive rebuttal to what he knew would be the brunet's first objection. He felt rather than saw the skeptical raised eyebrow; they both knew that was impossible.

Temptation was killing Harry's resolve so he defensively lashed out in the most wildly inappropriate way. "What makes you think I want to stick my cock in your ass when you've been farting and shitting up a storm all night?"

Again, he instantly felt bad at his cruel outburst when he saw Ron's hopeful expression crumble. "No. NO! FUCK! I didn't mean that, I'm just frustrated as all hell, ok?" He violently raked his fingers through his unruly hair. "I can't take much more of this.... I wanna, UH!" He punched his fists into his blankets. "I want you.... I need you...."

Ron's hackles were instantly soothed by that. He understood implicitly. He frowned in consternation and then brightened. "How about the bathroom now that it's Imperterbed?" His eagerness was infectious, but Harry had to quash that too. He could shoot down every suggestion with "too obvious" but sadly, it was true.... there was no plausible excuse to be discovered in the loo together in the middle of the night, or any other time for that matter.

"Fine!" the redhead let out a grumpy growl and disappeared onto his upper bunk again.

"Ron!" Harry anxiously whispered as loud as he could get away with. "Ron, please don't be mad...." He knew turning down his best mate was for the best, even though it shattered his heart to do it; he could never live with himself if he was the reason Ron's chance with Hermione was dashed. "I couldn't stand it if I was the cause of you two not having the future you deserve. If I don't survive, I need to know I didn't ruin this for you...."

He sounded so plaintive that Ron knew he could never be truly peeved at his best friend. "I'm not angry," he mumbled, "Just wish things were different.... wish we didn't have to hide....." Of course he couldn't see Harry's wistful expression and nod along in agreement. But he felt it. "Let's just try and get some shut-eye, shall we? Maybe we can sneak away tomorrow on a hike or something...."

"Yeah." But both knew it was doubtful they could achieve it; they hadn't managed a private rendezvous so far since Hermione kept their schedule too efficient and structured. And this was how they ended most nights, complaining and whinging until they tossed and turned in silence, finally drifting off to their respective, fitful rests.

Neither of them noticed that the young woman, lying on her cot barely two arm-stretches to the left, had heard every word. Of course they wouldn't see her eyes wide open and filled with tears since her back was turned, but they were also oblivious to seeing her shoulders shaking with grief and suppressed sobs, burdened with a loneliness more profound than both of theirs put together.

Now more than ever it was clear that they had each other; they had a deeper history, they were more connected. She had nothing-- No one to want or need her, no one to hold her. And no one to call her own. She was all alone.

****

Harry was about to drift off; his mind was skittering past old memories like fluttering photographs, mostly of him and Ron finding sexual gratification with each other’s bodies, when an agonized scream rent the air.

"Wha??" He bolted upright and promptly conked his head into the underside of Ron's bed but persevered, looking around for immediate threat. Ron instantly called out, "Harry!" when he heard the dull thud and his resultant pained groan.

"Nooooooo," Hermione wailed, "Noooo--no-not Harry, don't take them. Not either of them...TAKE ME !!!!!! Help meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Harry! Harry!?"

Ron gallantly jumped off the top bunk and stood in a cheesy crouch before his best mate's lower bed armed with his deficient wand at the ready. One click of the Deluminator had a couple of her blue-flame jars throwing an eerie glow on the room.

There was no intruder, just Hermione thrashing in her bed-clothes, twisting them and squealing in protest and anguish as if fighting an unseen foe as she tangled in them even worse.

"Hermy!" Harry yelled, unwinding his own legs from his blanket and rushing over, bruising his knees as he fell by her bedside. "I’m here, we're right here!" He looked helplessly at Ron, wondering what to do for such intense nightmares (Hermione had never cried out in anguish before or shown any weakness that they knew of-- She was always the most emotionally strong out of all of them).

This was completely new territory for him. He didn't know if he should touch her-- his best mate was the expert on soothing terrifying night-visions, not him. Ron nudged him closer. Harry took one last glance at him and laid his hand on her upper arm. She seemed to calm breath by breath until she was serene once more.

“Keep going….” Ron murmured. Harry knew Ron fancied Hermione and wasn't sure how he was interpreting this, if he was OK with Hermione seeming to need and ask for only him.... “Tell her how important she is to you….”

When he could trust his voice, Harry continued: "Herms, we're right here. We aren't going anywhere. We love you, you know?" Harry smoothed her hair off her sweaty brow and looked questioningly back at Ron. He had some stormy emotion swirling in his eyes that Harry didn't recognize but solemnly nodded for him to continue. Harry shrugged, "We’ll always need you and keep you safe."

Why was Ron pushing so much for Harry to voice his feelings for their best friend? Ron sounded a bit strangled. "You love her...." it wasn't exactly a question and it wasn't really an accusation either-- it was..... An opportunity to explain? Confess?

"Of course I love her-- are you crazy?" Harry felt thrown off balance by that and clutched her arm a little too roughly.

The sleepy witch came around enough to mumble, "Harry, are you there? I need to feel you, come lie down next to me....." Harry wasn't sure, (but the bulge in his pajama pants seemed sure!). "I just want to know you're really here-- don't you feel like that after a nightmare?" Her voice was slurred and gravelly.

"Ummm, yeah.... but, I never felt anything like this...." He'd felt ostracism, isolation, a wish for connection-- but nothing that could be considered as actual reassurance! Most of his worst nightmares (besides the usual Voldemort torture of nameless faces) were memories of people who were already gone and could never come back due to his own incompetence-- not of those he feared to lose but were truly still by his side. He really had no choice and slithered under the covers.

Harry couldn't bear to look at Ron's expression but could feel his presence and vigilant surveillance over his shoulder. It felt great to wriggle under the warm blanket and he somewhat awkwardly wrapped an arm under her neck, pulling her into his embrace. She sighed and petted a tremulous hand up and down his chest. It felt good. It felt more than good and his cock twitched in agreement as he traced small comforting circles on her back.

Suddenly, she stiffened in his arms and called out in a panic. "Ron! Where's Ron? We need Ron!" She blindly flailed out in the dark, searching frantically, scrambling over Harry and grasping at thin air until he stepped into her range and she caught his knee in a severely tight hold.

"I'm here," Ron answered, sounding somewhat choked.

"Come here, I need to know you're really here with us." For once, Ron was not one to argue and shuffled in with the other two, pushing Harry to the edge by the damp canvas wall, Hermione between them and his hip bone balancing on the uncomfortable metal outer rim of the meager cot. He then spread his arms, encompassing both his best friends.

They stayed that way for what could have been minutes or hours, barely breathing, just enjoying the closeness of warm bodies and feeling better than they had in a long time. It appeared that their girl was sufficiently pacified enough to drift off again, feeling safe and secure between the two hard masculine chests enough to sleep.

Then Harry tentatively reached across their bodies and ran his finger tips up Ron's flank; he couldn’t resist a secretive, scandalous feel of his lover. Ron turned his head a fraction of an inch and trailed his up Harry's fore-arm that was draped over Hermione. Harry's tumescence renewed itself in full-force with that simple touch and Ron's twitched, having stayed at full mast since their earlier conversation.

Unfortunately, (or fortunately depending on how you looked at it), Harry hardness poked her hip and roused her somewhat. "Mmmmm...." she hummed, reaching for any skin she could reach (Harry's neck and Ron's bare chest).

Ron froze. Harry quaked. This was the end; she would wake, feel their erections pressing against her and they would be unceremoniously dumped from the bed on their asses. The quest to save the Wizarding World would be over all because two randy teenagers couldn't control themselves.

But it never happened.

Hermione proceeded to subtly squirm against them, only fueling the smoldering embers that were threatening to burst into flames. The boys caught each other's eyes and were agonized. Then, as one, they seemed to decide they needed to see where this would go. They massaged a bit more at each other with Hermione between them; and she, seemed to rub right back, undulating against them with amazing precision for someone supposedly in slumber.

"Oh god," Ron wheezed as his hands wandered to traveling up and down Hermione's abdomen and she didn't slap him away. Harry, emboldened by Ron's success, followed his fingers in his wake and then laced them with Ron's, sustaining eye contact. Together they brought their conjoined fists lower, slowly as they dared, slipping under the waistband of her pajama bottoms. Brushing over her crinkly hair, they gently pressed between her legs, the clenched knot of their fingers nestled in her heat and rested there.

"Ohhhh....." she sighed in her sleep. The boys didn't know what to do so they just stayed there, trying not to hyperventilate. They were not ready for the minute rocking of her hips. The faint grinding of her pubic mound against their wrists and squeezing of her inner thighs around their linked hands had them frozen in disbelief. She was wanking on them!!

Ron swallowed with an audible gulp, and grew harder than he'd ever been in his life; he thrust his boner into her leg before he could stop himself. From what he could see of Harry in the dark, his pupils were dilated beyond whatever lust he'd ever induced him into. There was something so incredibly erotic about the three best friends entwined with such intimacy that he was afraid he might blow his load right then and there.

Hermione's gyrating pelvis gathered momentum and then her eyes burst open. "Ron!" She flung herself at him. "I need you, I need you NOW!" Ron was at a loss for words and just stammered out a few incoherent syllables. "Please..... I don't want to die a virgin!"

That proclamation rang out and was met with complete silence. Ron stared at Harry over her shoulder with apologetic longing, seeking permission.

Sad green eyes looked back at Ron with resignation, acceptance etched into his pained features; he always knew this day would come, when his and Ron’s trysts of comfort and convenience would end, he just hadn't expected it to hurt so much (or have such a ring-side seat). He simply nodded once; he dejectedly started to get up and go back to his own bunk.

The ache of loss was heavy in his limbs.

"NO!" Hermione screamed with a tone to rival a Banshee and a grip on his bicep to make a Grindylow proud. She collapsed into a whimper. "No, Harry, I need you too. We need you. Please stay...." Her voice dwindled off into an almost pathetic pleading, and if Harry didn't know better, it was the expression of a heart-felt desire that was feared to be rejected.

He didn't say a word and lay back down avoiding Ron's gaze. Her lips quivered and tentatively met his in a kiss. Harry hesitated a moment, afraid of Ron becoming jealous, but instinct took over and his lust and love poured into her mouth. His heart sped up as the kiss deepened and his breath became short. Just as he was contemplating what Ron's reaction would be, she broke away panting and turned to the other boy and attacked his mouth, nipping and licking at him.

Harry watched in wonder at his two best friends exploring each other's mouths for the first time with passion and fervor; he'd never seen anything so beautiful! A quiet moan escaped him and he couldn't help but nuzzle at the back of her neck.

He wasn't sure when it happened, but the boys had freed their hands from each other and were traveling almost of their own accord, all over the newness of the soft feminine curves between them and over each other, relishing the more familiar muscles and coarse body hair. Clothes were torn off and flung away in ungraceful, clumsy haste.

The three together blended into one marvelous mass of tangled limbs, heated bodies and blissful debauchery.

Hermione pulled back from Ron and turned to Harry. Ron stared in enthralled fascination as a string of spit stretched from his lips to hers, snapping and landing on her cheek as she dove in to slurp at Harry once more. He lapped it up, starting near her ear and worked his way towards the locked lips of his best friends. Wedging his face in, he added his tongue to theirs and then all three were snogging each other senseless.

The young witch was astounded and pleasantly surprised with the ease that her two best friends had with kissing and caressing each other. And it was all with her body in the middle (her steaming, sizzling, yearning body in the middle)! She felt a niggling tingle as she watched them together that intrigued her-- and even more of a jolt when they turned their focus on her.

WHY hadn't they done this sooner? Oh yeah, the boys never thought it possible.... She was the uptight bookworm of the group. And she'd never pursued the idea like this. She’d never even hinted that they could proceed in this way and she’d never been so bold as to suggest her deepest fantasy. (Plus, before tonight, she hadn’t known they had a history of intimate play, so she’d never thought it could become a reality so readily).

The wanton hiss that escaped her was rewarded by echoing groans when she sought out and squeezed their straining penises. With one in each hand, she tugged and drew dizzy, lung-fulls of muggy air, yet never felt better. One tongue was laving her neck and one was flicking its way down her collar bone and onto one of her taut nipples. At this point she didn't care who was doing what-- just that they didn't stop.

Everything was hot. This was hot-- she was hot! They were incredibly hot!

Soon, she had the two boys she adored most in the world vying for attention and space on her skin, each suckling on her breasts, hands sliding inexorably to the juncture between her legs. Before she could truly comprehend it, the two tousled heads were making their way downwards, following their fingers past her navel. She felt the lips against her skin and then pause to taste each other, only to be re-applied to her feverish flesh again.

They both budged her thighs apart and delved towards her most sacred space, ear to ear, exuding more eagerness and erotic sensuousness she ever knew was possible. She squealed when the first tongue swiped her vulva.

Hermione was embarrassed for the sloppy sounds emanating from betwixt her nethers, figuring that her privates would be un-appealing, but judging from the enthusiasm and of her boys 'down there', they were enjoying themselves. She was delighted at how they both seemed to jockey for position to run their determined mouths over her throbbing folds. They both appeared to be savoring the experience with reverence, (if the cute little noises of excitement they were making were any indication).

She had never loved them more than at that moment. And she was more than happy.... to... uh.... allow.... uh.... give?..... uh, erm, uh.... coherent thought left her. Two insistent tongues twiddled her clit, battling each other, then one ducked lower and to her utter shock, laved over her butthole!

"Mmmmmmnnnah!" her astonished gasp escaped her unbidden. She’d never even considered that particular act—and, oh my, the naughtiness of it turned her on all the more. “Oh my god! Yes!” she keened, her fingers clenching in the inky and scarlet locks jostling together at her crotch.

A long finger entered deeply, tickling her cervix and then another from a second hand joined in teasing the soft palate of her G-spot. Inevitably, so much exquisite attention (and her writhing strategically against their ministrations) sent her closer to the most dramatic climax ever, a divine ecstasy beyond her wildest imagination.

"Ahhhh!" She screamed suddenly, experiencing an epic orgasm, the first brought on by another person(s). Her two best friends, lapping at her swollen labia, drinking in her juice and hungrily nipping at each other, were dumbfounded and proudly triumphant. Hermione was never more gorgeous in their eyes.

She gulped a few frantic breaths she turned and wrapped her legs around Ron’s waist. “I need you! Take me now!” She was demanding in her urgency and shoved her drenched pussy onto his hardness. Ron, again, looked over her shoulder and searched Harry’s face for acceptance.

Harry nodded once and held Ron’s ribs around Hermione’s body. They were all lying on their sides so Harry just curled along her body, molding his chest against her creamy back, and waited for Ron to take what he’d wanted for so long.

The-Boy-Who-Lived was somewhat sad since he felt left out, separate from their love, but was happy for his friends and was grateful for the chance to be a part of this ultimate communion, years in the making; a somewhat bittersweet realization and rejection.

He saw Ron grit his jaw as he fumbled and found the point of gentle, moist, give that yielded to the tip of his aching cock….. and witnessed the relief and relish that washed over his face when he finally found his angle and started to push his way home.

Harry knew she would not be able to take him penetrating her anus during her first time like he desperately wanted to, but he couldn’t help but plunge forward, searching out friction and contact for his weeping member and slid it along the velvet skin of Hermione’s crack. He burrowed a little more in between the cheeks, then, slipped downwards, pressing his palm on the underside of his erection, pushing and trapping it tight against her.

Ron was grunting rhythmically, gliding in and out of the newly christened hole with care and effort not to come too soon. Ron was spreading quite a bit of slickness around the surrounding area on his strokes outward, so Harry slithered his cock into it and wasn’t disappointed. He was more than content as he smeared the libidinous juices all around while he slid up and down along her heavenly crevice.

He loved that his engorged head poked the sides of Ron’s throbbing shaft and into the sensitive seam between his balls. As a result, the panting brunet was getting himself and the entranced redhead off by stimulating their parts together like they always used to. Harry was amazed by the silky softness of Hermione’s buttocks and eagerly rubbed his length in the delectably scented sensuous slime of her sex.

Too soon, Ron was grabbing frantically at Harry’s ass, pulling him closer to Hermione and himself, and starting to buck his hips erratically. Harry knew Ron was about to lose control so he snaked his left hand under Hermione’s waist, around her hip and found her clit; he wasted no time massaging the buzzing button in time with the pulse thudding in his veins. He was rewarded by unrestrained howls and moans and more natural lubricant dribbling from her core.

Ron was biting his lower lip so hard he drew blood until he heard the sharp cry Hermione let loose, shuddering and shivering, convulsing between her two lovers; the exerted redhead’s mouth fell open in a loud multi-syllabic guttural groan and then he allowed himself to jerk and spurt his long held-back spunk deep inside her.

Their vocalizations of pleasure set off Harry as he was unable to hold stop from shooting his come on them and added his own wetness to the mix.

****

Harry gulped for air, still clutching them fiercely and then asked, “All right Ron? Everything better now?”

“Better than all right…. Brilliant…. Fan-bloody-tastic,” he gasped, breathlessly laughing a bit. “Hermione?”

“Never better,” she sighed, snuggling closer into the sweaty masculine muscles that enclosed her trembling form. “Harry?”

He remained silent. “Mate?” Ron questioned, immediately apprehensive, worried that he knew what Harry was thinking—that this was the first and last time they’d be together like this, that Harry would think he needed to sacrifice their relationship for his and Hermione’s new one.

Downcast green eyes flicked toward them, “Thanks for letting me share tonight….but….” Harry mumbled, sounding forlorn, starting to tug out of the embrace.

“NO!” Ron and Hermione asserted at the same time, grasping on and would not let him leave.

“No, Harr, it’s all three of us, or none at all.” Ron stated with a finality that left no room to argue.

“Harry,” Hermione cooed, “He’s right. And I for one want to do this again. All of us again and again and again…. In loads of different ways….” She trailed off while stroking his arm, happily exhausted. They both looked at their best friend with hopeful, begging expressions, wishing for him to accept the new dynamic of the trio.

Harry hesitated, it sounded too good to be true. “If you’re sure….”

“Don’t be daft….” Ron muttered and squished his two best friends in his arms, showing them he never intended to let them go and sought out their lips to seal the deal. He groaned in bliss as all the past bitterness and angst faded from his life; they both melted next to him and it was so perfect.

Listening to the light pitter-patter of rain on the roof, singing like a serene release after the tempestuous storm of earlier that evening, it felt like all was right with the world. The three of them were absolutely sated and elated.

The luxurious kisses the three shared, shakily coming down off their euphoric high were gentle, soft and affectionate-- yet every bit as lovingly rough, ragged and raw as pure sexuality can be. That night, the trio forged new, precious links that would sustain them in the hard days to come-- an unbroken chain more precious than gold.

~~~~

A/N: I just always thought there had to be some sex going on in the tent during the horcrux hunt. I mean, c’mon, three hormonal teenagers alone in close proximity together with plenty of free time on their hands during desperate and ‘in-need-of stress-relief’ times? Seriously, there would have to be more to the story than just the slight UST of canon. And more angst involved with having to cohabitate during hardships.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this fic-- and please don’t think I hate Ron cuz I was so mean to him in the beginning. I don’t-- I love him! He’s a perfectly delicious young man and I wish I could have the chance to get at him!!!!

(Cupcakes with cherries on top for those who actually got the Monty Python, Firefly and Grateful Dead references from the twisted effluence of my mind! ;)
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Gripes and Groans