Title: All That Matters
Ships: Harry/Ron/Hermione
Rating: I have no idea. R/NC17ish. Tell me what you think (I suck at ratings)
Spoilers: HBP
Disclaimer: Say it with me now ~ me ... don't ... own.
Summary: This isn’t normal, what we have. But then again, what about our lives has been normal?
Authors Notes: Okay, I have a few things to say so bear with me. First of all, as anyone who has read a lot of my fics knows, I usually avoid writing sex scenes like that plague. But I have now decided to get over that and this is the result. So be kind - I'm like a smut virgin. :O) Anyway, I would really appreciate peoples thoughts on this fic.

A thousand hugs and kisses to mrs_remus. She knows why. The next one will be for you, promise.

And lastly, this was written for the amazing inell and her big, birthday bash. I know it's a bit late, but hey, better late than never, right? I really hope you enjoy this, though I'm sure even if you dont you'll tell me that you did, coz you are too sweet to be mean. :O)

So now, after all of that, on to the fic.



All That Matters


I remember being so confused. I didn’t know why I disliked them so intensely. Cho, Fleur, Lavender, Ginny. It didn’t make sense.

Okay, so I could admit I was slightly jealous of Fleur and Lavender. I liked Ron. I knew it. He knew it. The entire student body at Hogwarts knew it. But I couldn’t for the life of me work out why I felt so venomous towards the girls in Harry’s life.

At first I just thought that they weren’t good enough. That certainly would apply to Cho. But what about Ginny? She was my friend and Ron’s sister. So why did I hate the idea of Harry and Ginny together?

In the end, I told myself it was because I was worried she would break Harry’s heart. Harry had so few people he could trust and just be himself with – hell, he pretty much only had me and Ron. I was terrified Ginny would move on from Harry like she did from all her other boyfriends, leaving a broken Harry behind.

I was so relieved when they broke up.

*

So off we went, the three of us, searching for Horcruxes.

Ron and I started gravitating towards each other. It was inevitable really. I will never forget our first kiss, a sweet peck that lingered too long to be considered platonic. But then Harry arrived back with our dinner so that was as far as it went. That night, anyway.

By a tacit agreement, we didn’t tell Harry what was going on with us. After all, we were on a dangerous mission, and this really wasn’t important enough to distract Harry from that. It’s funny, looking back now, wondering why the warning bells in my head weren’t going off. It was so easy to say that was the reason not to tell him but now I know the real reason. The reason that was always there, no matter how hard we tried to ignore it. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The search for the Horcruxes was taxing work, no doubt about it. It was hard and dangerous and vitally important. So then why did it feel at times as though it was just the three of us hanging out together? That it was just an excuse for us to get away from everyone and be together?

With everyone from the Order making this their top priority, information on the location of the remaining Horcruxes was coming through thick and fast. And we found them with surprising ease – clearly Voldemort was nowhere near as clever as he thought he was.

My relationship with Ron progressed slowly but surely. It was hard to be together because we were always with Harry. But we found a way to make it work. And then, one night, not too long after destroying the fifth Horcrux, it happened.

We finally managed to get separate rooms at a hotel. Throughout the trip, we just snuck into hotel rooms in whichever town we ended the day in, memory charming anyone who came across us and wondered what we were doing there. But that also meant the sleeping arrangements were always nice and cozy. Two people in a bed and one on a couch. Two people in one bed and the third in the second. You wouldn’t believe how quickly we became accustomed to sleeping together in one bed: me and Ron, me and Harry, even Ron and Harry.

Again with the absent warning bells.

But this night we found two rooms next to each other with one of those internal doors. So for the first time in months we had a bit more space. The boys chivalrously decided to take the room with the two single beds while giving me the other, with the queen size bed all to myself. Now that was luxury!

After eating dinner and watching some TV in the boys room, we bade each other goodnight. An hour later, I heard the door between our rooms creak open. Then I felt a weight beside me and a warm body touching mine. I smiled and kissed Ron passionately.

That was our first time together. I’m not gonna lie – it wasn’t perfect. It was kinda awkward and clumsy, but it was also beautiful and special and intense and held the promise of many more nights together. We were so happy.

That happiness was shattered less than a week later. We got word that Ginny had been attacked and was deathly ill. We all wanted to go and see her but the truth was that what we were doing was more important. Harry and I talked about it and agreed. Ron should go and be with his sister while we carried on.

The three of us sat down and talked about it rationally. Ron was reluctant to leave us but we knew how worried he was about Ginny and how much he wanted to see her. In the end he agreed, saying he would go and spend a few days with her and then come back to us.

Saying goodbye was a surreal experience. It was only for a few days, after all. Then why was the idea of the three of us not being together breaking my heart? I hugged Ron fiercely, kissing his cheek. Then I watched as Ron and Harry hugged each other, having a quick, whispered conversation.

They released each other and with a grim smile, Ron apparated away. Harry came to my side and took my hand in his, squeezing my fingers reassuringly. "Come on," he said. "Let’s go."

*

And so our work continued. After a few days, Ron owled us and said Ginny was showing no improvement and he couldn’t leave her. We immediately owled back and told him to take as long as he needed.

It was strange, being on the hunt with Harry. I missed Ron. We both did. But I had to admit it was nice to have some time with just the two of us. We hardly ever had time alone during our friendship and I kinda liked it.

We stumbled into another random hotel room, exhausted. It was a month after Ron had left us and he still hadn’t returned. But the Order had found out some info that could lead to the last Horcrux. It could all be over soon. But we had more important matters to attend to right then, like Harry’s fractured arm, sustained during a close encounter with some brainless Death Eaters.

Harry collapsed onto the bed, grimacing slightly. The adrenaline from the fight had gotten him through but now in the silence and stillness of our room, the pain came flooding back. I sat beside him and pointed my wand at his arm. I hesitated.

I looked up at him. What if I made it worse? What if I made the damage irreparable? As I went to voice my worries, he looked me in the eyes and earnestly said, "I trust you, Hermione."

I nodded and returned my attention to his arm. Taking a deep breath, I said a healing charm. A warm purple light engulfed his forearm for a moment and then disappeared. We glanced at each other for a second before I began examining his arm. I got him to flex his arm and squeeze my fingers. He wasn’t in any pain. It worked.

We looked at each other and grinned.

And that’s when I felt it.

My stomach suddenly tightened and my skin tingled. I ignored the sensation, in denial about what I knew I was feeling. Attraction.

I smiled weakly, then muttered that we needed to get some rest. He nodded in agreement and after taking it in turns to shower, we climbed into the bed.

I couldn’t sleep. I was aware of every breath that Harry took, every movement he made, despite the fact my back was to him.

I rolled over, now facing Harry. He was facing me and I could see in the minimal light of our room that he was asleep. I stared at his features, wanting so badly to reach out and touch them.

I should have felt guilty. I was with Ron but here I was having thoughts and feelings about his best friend. But to be honest, guilt was the furthest thing from my mind. Again, note the lack of warning bells.

I finally closed my eyes, attempting to sleep. But then I felt Harry place his hand on my bare leg. It was soft and subtle and he made no further entreaties upon my person.

With a heavily beating heart, I placed my hand atop his. Our fingers interlaced and I thought I would die from sheer anticipation.

I opened my eyes to see him looking at me, a slight smile on his face. Then we simultaneously crashed forward, meeting in a drugged kiss. Our arms and limbs wrapped around each other and we desperately clawed at each others clothes.

And so, within the space of six weeks, I had slept with my two best friends. I should have felt guilty. Dirty. Bad. Anything. But I didn’t. My reasoning was that there was simply no time to think about the consequences of my actions. There were far more important things going on. That lie got me through quite a lot, let me tell you.

So, we found and destroyed the last Horcrux. We returned back to Headquarters and were reunited with Ron.

That first night back, the three of us stayed up all night, beating back our exhaustion just to be together and fill each other in on everything that had happened during our separation.

Well, almost everything.

*

After Harry defeated Voldemort, the three of us decided to move out together. You would think that after being together twenty-four seven for the better part of a year, we would want some space from each other. But the truth was we couldn’t imagine not living together. How could we not see each other every day? Even before the hunt, we hadn’t been apart for more than a few months and at school we had seen each other every day. To be so separated after all of that would be just plain weird.

We found a nice double storey house in the quiet countryside. Mine and Ron’s bedrooms were upstairs and Harry’s was downstairs. We all got jobs and saw our friends and hung out with the Weasleys. We began to finally live normal lives.

Except for one small detail. We were lying to each other.

We acted like we always had. Three best friends. But the truth was, we were so much more than that. I spent some nights with Ron. I spent others with Harry.

As time went by, it became increasingly clear why I had felt so many of the things I had felt in my life. I disliked Cho and Fleur and Lavender and Ginny because Harry and Ron like them and not me. I was comfortable sharing a bed with either Ron or Harry because I wanted both of them. I didn’t feel guilty sleeping with both of them because I was in love with them both.

I began to crave the night. I loved being with Ron – learning how to make him scream and loving the feel of his rough hands all over my body. I loved being with Harry – staring into his deep green eyes as he touched me in such a way that I trembled beneath him. But in the back of my mind, I always knew that something wasn’t quite right. I knew it had something to do with the reason Ron and I never told Harry about us when we first got together. I was just in denial about what that reason was.

*

Who knows how long this charade would have gone on - Ron and I hiding from Harry, Harry and I hiding from Ron. But would you believe that in the end, it was something so mundane as a storm that shattered the illusions we were all living under.

It was past midnight, about a year after we all moved in together. I was awoken by the thunder rumbling outside our house. I don’t like storms, never have. So even after the storm dissolved, I couldn’t get back to sleep.

I headed downstairs in search of a glass of warm milk, hoping it would help send me back to the land of nod. But then I heard it. A strange noise in the still of our house.

I was imagining things. I must have been. I was still on edge after the storm. So I ignored it and crossed the lounge room and headed to the kitchen.

We were out of milk. Typical. I grabbed some water and drank a few mouthfuls before heading out of the kitchen.

There it was again. A crash. Starting to get worried, I headed to the direction of the noise. Harry’s room.

I gently pushed open the door and froze at the sight before me.

Harry and Ron.

Kissing.

Heatedly.

They were both clad only in boxers. Ron had Harry pressed against the wall, his hands on his hips. Harry’s hands weren’t idle, running over Ron’s face, through his hair, over his back.

I should have been shocked. Angry. Disgusted. Heartbroken. Anything. But I wasn’t. On the contrary, I was enthralled and, I’ll admit it, a little turned on. It was as though everything had suddenly fallen into place. As though suddenly everything just made sense.

Ron broke the kiss and as they stared into each others eyes, he grinned and moved his hand from Harry’s hip and slid it into Harry’s boxers.

Harry groaned.

So did I.

They both turned to me. They were so shocked to see me standing there that they didn’t even move away from each other. Ron was still touching Harry and I could barely force my eyes from the spot where his hand disappeared under the cotton material.

Finally I met their eyes. They both looked terrified.

"Hermione-" Ron began before I cut him off with a gesture.

"Don’t..." I said, faltering slightly. I swallowed and then began again. “Don’t stop.”

And I thought they looked shocked before.

"Hermione?" Harry said, confusion and surprise and something else entirely lacing that one word.

I closed the door behind me and leaned against it. "Don’t stop," I repeated.

They glanced quickly at each other, the message slowly sinking in.

"Are ... are you sure?" Ron said, his eyes searching mine.

I grinned at them. "Don’t make me come over there," I replied mock-seriously, crossing my arms over my chest.

Harry and Ron broke out in grins too. As we stood there, grinning stupidly at each other, everything changed in that one moment. Although … maybe nothing really changed at all.

And so they continued. I watched them kiss. I watched them touch. I watched them fall to the floor in their passionate embrace.

I watched as Ron pulled down Harry’s boxers and got him off with his hand, my thumb brushing over my hard nipples through the cotton of my t-shirt as Harry came. I watched as Harry kissed down Ron’s body, removed his shorts and took him in his mouth.

I was so turned on. I subtly snaked my hand under my top and began teasing myself. I could feel myself becoming wet from the sight before me. Part of me wanted to stay and watch as the act before me came to its natural conclusion and part of me was desperate to rush back to my room and release the tension that was building inside me. And another part of me wanted to combine those two desires.

With his hands in Harry’s hair, Ron came, a rough moan escaping his lips. Harry kissed his way up Ron’s body and they kissed again, sharing the taste of Ron between them.

My legs gave out from under me and I collapsed to the floor.

They looked so beautiful together. My boys. They seemed to have forgotten all about me, lying together on the floor, sweaty and breathing heavily, hands still roaming over each others bodies, heads together and stealing the occasional kiss.

I slowly crawled over to them. They finally remembered me and though Harry went to speak, I cut him off with a kiss. He opened his mouth to me and I could taste the lingering flavour of Ron. Harry and Ron. It was bliss.

I broke the kiss suddenly and leaned over Harry and kissed Ron, just as hard. As our tongues fought for dominance, I could feel Harry lightly slide his fingertips up and down my arm. And when he moved his hand to my stomach, I gasped, involuntarily breaking the kiss with Ron.

Without saying a word, Harry gently gripped my arms and moved me across him so I lay between the two of them. Ron and Harry shared a grin before Ron kissed me and Harry lifted up my t-shirt and kissed my stomach.

It all happened so quickly. My top was pulled over my head. Ron nipped and sucked my breasts while Harry removed my pyjama pants. Harry kissed my mouth, my neck, my chest, while Ron removed my burgundy knickers.

I gasped as he gently pushed a finger into me, then added a second, all the while rubbing my swollen clit. And when Ron replaced his fingers with his tongue, I pulled Harry to me and kissed him hard, enjoying the feeling of having both Harry and Ron’s tongues inside me. I came quicker and harder than ever before.

I was breathing heavily and trembling slightly, sweaty and warm. But it wasn’t over yet.

Harry and Ron swapped positions. Harry lay atop me and Ron was beside me. All three of our faces were mere inches apart. Ron and Harry kissed in front of me and I bit my lip, trying to will myself not to orgasm just from the sight before me. They broke the kiss and when Ron leaned across and kissed me, Harry entered me.

Bliss. That’s all I remember. Pure bliss.

Harry buried his head in my neck as I moved my hips to meet his thrusts. Still kissing Ron, I reached out and ran my hand down Ron’s body until I found his cock. I grasped it and began stroking him in a rhythm that matched the one Harry and I were so deliciously creating.

I remember the sounds that filled the room: moans, groans, sighs, gasps, the occasional yes or the murmur of someone’s name. I was swimming in sensation. Drowning in desire.

And then we came together. All three of us.

We lay on the floor, sweaty and panting, me lying between the two boys. There were no words of endearments, no confessions, no questions. Just us.

Harry reached up and pulled a blanket from his bed, then covered us with it. We couldn’t stop touching each other; legs entwined, hands on stomachs and chests and arms, mouths on shoulders and necks and cheeks.

We finally drifted off to sleep, a tangle of arms and legs together on the floor of Harry’s bedroom. And when we awoke in the morning, it was the first day of the rest of our lives.

*

This isn’t normal, what we have. But then again, what about our lives has been normal?

Every time I think that what the three of us are doing is wrong, I simply remember.

I remember the laughs we share, the secret smiles we give to only each other, the secrets we keep for each other, the way our eyes seem to light up whenever one of us walks into the room.

I remember the feeling of having Harry and Ron kiss and lick and caress every inch of my body, teasing me until I beg for one of them inside me. I remember the look on Harry’s face as Ron sucks his cock, that look of utter abandon and joy and freedom, that grin before I lean in and kiss him, hard. I remember the sound Ron makes, the sigh as he enters me and then the moan as Harry slides into him. I remember the ecstatic noises we make and our sweaty skin and the loving kisses as the three of us move together.

I think about the reason that all those years ago, Ron and I never told Harry what was happening with us. Because it felt strange and wrong to have something so important that didn’t include him. Because, when it comes to the three of us, two just isn’t enough.

And I know that, despite what others may think, this isn’t wrong. What we have is real and important and right.

We love each other. And that is all that matters.