HP fic: Three Is a Magic Number [Draco/Harry/Hermione, adult]
Title: Three Is a Magic Number Author: celandineb Fandom: HP Pairing: Hermione/OCs, Hermione/Draco, Hermione/Draco/Harry Rating: adult Length: 23,543 words (posted in three parts) (6955 this part) Warnings: BDSM, polyamory, EWE Summary: Hermione never expected to become a domme, and she certainly never expected it to lead her down this path in life. Note: Written for the hermionebigbang in 2009. This was inspired by several drabbles and ficlets that I wrote for inell. Many, many thanks to snegurochka_lee for beta-ing; her suggestions have (I hope) much improved the story, and any remaining errors and infelicities are entirely my own responsibility.
When the Sunday in question arrived, she found herself pacing in a welter of nerves before Draco arrived at her flat to Apparate them together to his parents' house.
Neither the senior Malfoys nor Hermione made any allusion to the previous time that Hermione had been on the premises. It was all very civilised, in fact, except for the way that Draco's parents kept telegraphing their astonishment to each other and to their son whenever they thought Hermione wasn't looking.
"I understand you work at the Ministry?" said Narcissa Malfoy. She gestured, which confused Hermione for a moment until a house-elf appeared to hand around a tray of canapes.
She ignored the house-elf – resolving to have a word with Draco about that later – and said, "Yes, in the Department for Magical Law Enforcement ."
"How very exciting that must be. I never worked myself; I've never needed to." Narcissa's smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
"I quite enjoy it, actually. I feel that I'm doing something meaningful with my life there," said Hermione as politely as she could.
"I must confess that I was somewhat surprised when Draco told us that he wanted us to meet you, dear," Narcissa said, the endearment ringing falsely. "Where did the two of you meet?"
Hermione suppressed a mad desire to say, "He came to a Muggle library and asked me to beat him," just to see the look on Narcissa's face, and instead replied, "At school, of course."
Narcissa's smile was so brittle that it looked as though her face might crack. "Of course, but I meant more recently."
"We have some similar interests." Hermione flicked a glance at Draco, who was making what appeared to be equally strained conversation with his father. "Films. Books. Politics. That sort of thing. It's been quite a gradual development, from having mutual interests to being mutually interested, if you see what I mean."
"Certainly," Narcissa professed, although she remained plainly confused as to what her son could possibly have in common with Hermione Granger. "Draco, darling, you didn't tell us that your Hermione was interested in politics."
Draco raised his eyebrows at Hermione, who gave him a tiny shrug, as if to say, "What could I do?"
"We both want to see the wizarding world survive and thrive, Mother," he said. "Since she works in the Ministry, Hermione has a good sense for what's going on. You know how people talk in the canteen, Father."
Lucius inclined his head. "Yes, although such gossip is frequently inaccurate."
"Do you find it so?" asked Hermione in her sweetest voice. "I think that depends on the person to whom you're talking. Some people are more trustworthy than others."
Draco coughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Lucius glared at Hermione.
"You have a very high opinion of yourself, young lady."
"Not higher than her abilities warrant," said Draco, which effectively cut off that line of conversation, as none of the three Malfoys appeared to be willing to quarrel too openly.
After a pause that stretched rather awkwardly, Narcissa remarked upon the unseasonably warm weather, and for the rest of the visit, all was at least superficially amiable.
"Goodness," said Hermione when they were back in Draco's flat, where she planned to spend the night. She stretched, putting her hands against the small of her back and bending backwards to stretch her muscles. "That was a delightful afternoon. I'm sorry," she added when Draco frowned. "I know you love your family, but you must admit they didn't exactly greet me with open arms."
"I know," Draco admitted with a sigh. He came up behind Hermione and began to massage her neck and shoulders. "They've accepted that it's expedient to change their ways, but I can't say that they've changed their underlying attitudes very much. Hermione."
"Hm? Don't stop, that feels lovely."
Despite her injunction, Draco's hands stilled, and he turned her around to face him.
"I know that you've wanted to keep what we do at Brands separate from the rest of our lives, but please, I need it badly tonight." He shoved back a lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes and gazed at her beseechingly. "As a special favour, please. I want you to beat me."
Hermione hesitated. She was still somewhat annoyed by how the visit with Draco's parents had gone, although she had hardly expected anything very different, and was concerned that if she acquiesced to Draco's request, she might use her anger to fuel the punishment that she doled out. She took several deep breaths, trying to let go of her emotional reaction.
"All right," she finally said. "But all of those things are at my flat, so we'd better go there."
Draco's anxious face relaxed. "Thank you," he said softly.
Although she had her equipment at her flat, she had no permanent installations like whipping-posts or wall shackles such as they had at Brands, so she would have to improvise somewhat. While Draco obeyed her order to strip completely, Hermione looked over her toys and made several selections.
She showed Draco the harness before she buckled it on him. It would hold a butt plug snugly inside him, while at the same time restraining his cock. The plug she had chosen was large, although its flared base was small enough that it would not prevent her from beating Draco once it was in place.
He took the plug with only a slight quiver at the speed with which she inserted it, bowing his head as she pulled the straps tight to secure his cock.
Lacking any post against which to have Draco stand, Hermione chose instead to have him bend over and grasp the back of her sofa. It was a huge overstuffed piece, very heavy, and Draco ought not to be able to move it accidentally. Besides, there was a certain frisson in doing this in her living room; the door was bolted and the Floo locked, but it nevertheless felt more like a public space than did her bedroom, and if she was going to act as a dominant at home, she would rather it not be in her private sanctum.
She adjusted the plug so that it sat firmly inside Draco's arse, hearing him give a soft grunt as she did so. She stroked his trapped prick as well, fondling it as it swelled against the leather of the restraint. Then she stepped back, gauging the distance, and lifted the paddle she had chosen to use. She generally preferred to use a paddle with Draco; his skin was tender, and it took great control with a whip not to mark him excessively, control that she wasn't sure she had tonight. As it was, his arse reddened immediately with the first blow. He counted the strokes as they fell, in accordance with his training. Hermione liked the verbal acknowledgment. She gave him an even dozen and then left him there to wait while she went and changed, putting on a loose silk kimono and leaving her feet bare. After spending the afternoon dressed up for Draco's parents, she didn't feel like wearing her usual dominatrix attire. The blood-red silk with its embroidered black designs suited her mood well enough.
She ran a hand along Draco's spine when she returned to stand behind him, smoothing the skin of his bum, now only faintly pink after the pause.
"More?" she asked.
"Yes, please."
"Another dozen, then," decided Hermione. As she began the series, she remarked, "I noticed today how much you resemble your father physically. I wondered if he resembles you in liking this?" At the final word, she gave Draco an extra-hard smack.
Draco gulped. "I've no idea. It's really not something I've ever wanted to think about."
"But it's rather attractive to imagine," murmured Hermione. "The oh-so-stern Lucius Malfoy, willingly under the lash." She shivered and then caught herself. This was exactly what she had been concerned about; that she would transfer her dislike of the father into how she treated his son.
When she had finished the second dozen blows, therefore, she decided that she had better risk no more physical discipline of that sort tonight. She moved to sit on the sofa, loosening her kimono and letting it fall open, and then beckoning Draco to come kneel in front of her. At her gesture he bent forward, his tongue lapping at her cunt lips to spread her open fully, then focussing his attention on her clitoris as he slid two fingers inside her and began to finger-fuck her as well. He was amazingly good at this, even better than Damien, Hermione thought dreamily as his circling tongue coaxed her up and up to orgasm. Whether it was native talent or a skill he'd perfected with other women, she really didn't care so long as she could enjoy the benefit of it. She groaned when her orgasm hit, and Draco slowed his motions, now suckling at her gently so as not to overstimulate her too much.
"Lovely," she murmured, and stroked his head with one hand as the other caressed her breasts. He continued to mouth her cunt, making her come several more times before she told him to stop and sit back.
His cock was a deep red, visibly pulsing against the leather band that encircled it. Hermione unbuckled that portion of the harness, leaving those straps in place which held the plug.
"I've never asked; how limber are you?"
"Limber?" Draco sounded puzzled.
"Can you bend enough to suck your own cock?" Hermione clarified. "If you can, I want to watch you do that. Make yourself come on your own face."
"I think I can," Draco said, and began to bow himself forward. "I may have to lie down, though."
"However you can make it work," Hermione said.
Draco pushed the coffee table away and stretched himself out on the rug there before gradually contorting himself until he was able to close his lips around the head of his cock. He had to grasp his thighs to hold himself in place, which made it difficult for Hermione to see as well as she would have liked, but she enjoyed the spectacle nevertheless. The long wait that Draco had endured meant that he came quite quickly, within only a few minutes of beginning to fellate himself, and as she'd instructed, he let go so that the spurt of his semen splashed across his cheek.
"Circe," he cursed softly. He uncurled and arched his back to stretch out the muscles. "Are you ever going to stop coming up with new ideas like that? I hope not."
Hermione chuckled. "I hope not, too. Come here."
She had him stand before her so that she could remove the plug, playing a bit with his loosened hole although his spent cock barely twitched as she did so.
Draco turned his head to look at her. "Thank you. For being willing to do this for me tonight. I know it's not your preference to act as dominant here."
"No." Hermione blew out a long breath and patted the sofa beside her. "Partly because, as I've told you, I couldn't possibly play that role all the time, so I've preferred to keep it entirely separate. Tonight, though, I was worried because I was upset by your parents. They weren't openly rude, but I could tell that they still think of me as –" she swallowed, "– as a Mudblood, with all the pejorative associations that has. As if I were dirt. And since you resemble them physically, especially your father, I was afraid I might lose control myself, go too far when I beat you."
"I'm sorry, Hermione," Draco murmured, and put his arm around her. "I didn't realise you felt that way. Another time, tell me, please?"
"I will," Hermione promised, "although it worked out all right in the end."
"Yes, it did." Draco gave her a kiss.
The sexual success of that evening caused Hermione to rethink what it was she wanted. Since he had taken her to meet his parents, Draco was obviously serious in his intentions toward her, and she acknowledged to herself that increasingly she felt the same. Having made a point of wanting to retain her independence, though, she took several months to taper off her involvement with her other men at Brands. She did bring Draco to meet her own parents sooner than that, though. Draco got on surprisingly well with them, considering how little they all had in common other than Hermione herself.
"How often do you see them?" he asked the next day. "I've just realised that I don't really know how close you are to your family."
"Probably not as often as I should," Hermione admitted, "given that I'm their only child. Maybe once a month, although I speak with my mum almost every week on the telephone. My dad isn't much of a phone person."
Draco nodded. "I can see that."
Hermione didn't think it wise to mention to Draco that her mother had asked about how Harry was doing, and had said that he'd come to visit them a few weeks earlier.
"Such a nice young man," her mother had said. "I used to think the two of you might find something special together, after you and Ron broke it off. You had always written so much about Harry from school. But it seems I was mistaken, and as long as you're happy with Draco, that's what matters."
Hermione had agreed, but she felt somewhat guilty that Harry had been lonesome enough to visit the Grangers by himself. Recently she hadn't spent as much time with Harry as she liked, and she resolved to herself to do better. She didn't want to be one of those women who abandoned their friends when they became involved with someone.
By autumn Hermione had found someone else to take over for her with each of her three other partners at Brands. For all of Damien's protests, he was actually the easiest to suit, as it turned out. Lloyd ended up with a man, somewhat to Hermione's surprise, and William with the same woman who took on Damien.
"I'd like to talk again about living together," she told Draco the next evening.
Draco gave her a grin of pure delight. "Really? Are you certain?"
"Certain." Hermione smiled too. "My flat definitely isn't big enough, but we can think about whether yours would be, or if it might not be better to find a new place altogether. I would really prefer to have a room that was my own, where I could work if I needed to bring something home from the Ministry without feeling as if I were getting in your way or making you turn the wireless off if you wanted to listen to a programme or something. And we might want to have another room especially for scenes, I'm not sure. Then I think I'd feel more comfortable doing them at home instead of at Brands – I could keep more of a mental separation."
"My flat does have two bedrooms, but the second one is fitted out as a guest room, as you know. Not that I've had that many guests, but I like the idea of having somewhere to put them that isn't on the sofa. I'm not sure if we could squeeze a desk in there as well. Although... how good are your shrinking spells? We could shrink the bed and put it away and only get it out if there actually were a guest to put into it."
"I suppose that would work," said Hermione, but she sighed.
"What is it? You don't like the idea?" A line appeared between Draco's eyebrows as he gave a worried frown.
"Well, I'm sure it's more practical to keep your flat and only have to move my things, but I'm afraid that then it will always feel like your place, not our place. Does that make sense?"
Draco gave a slow nod. "Yes... I remember from when I was young, my mother saying things like that. Of course Malfoy Manor had been in my family for generations, so it wasn't just my father's home, it had centuries of Malfoy taste stamped all over it."
"Right. Your flat wouldn't be that bad, but..." Hermione shrugged.
"No, I can see your point. We can look for a place that suits us both, and this time I won't let my mother decorate it, either." Draco smirked slightly. "You can be the one who decides how everything should look."
"Oh no. You'll help," said Hermione firmly. She was not going to take sole responsibility for that.
They gave a housewarming party to celebrate once they had found a suitable place and moved in. The fact that Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were living together caused more than a few raised eyebrows, but the party was a smashing success. They invited Draco's parents, who sent a stiff note declining, and Hermione's, who turned out to have a dental conference that week and were off in Corfu. Ron came, however, with his new wife Susan, and gave Hermione a hearty hug and a buss on the cheek.
"Never would have expected it, Hermione, but as long as you're happy?"
"I am. Very. And I can tell that you are with Susan," Hermione responded.
Ron's expression softened almost to fatuousness as he looked across the room at his wife. "Yes. Susan's great. Funny how things work out, really."
Harry came and hugged Hermione too. He didn't say much, just gave her a smile tinged with melancholy as he looked around. He shook Draco's hand as well and congratulated him on having persuaded Hermione to move in with him.
"I didn't persuade her," Hermione heard Draco say. "I suggested it first, true, but after that I left it completely up to her to decide."
"Hermione's good at that," Harry agreed.
"So are we going to see you settling down any time soon, Harry?" George Weasley had come with Angelina Johnson, and Hermione suspected that George would be popping the question any day now. Or maybe it would be Angelina who asked?
"Leave him alone, George," Angelina said, giving Hermione the barest of winks. "Not everyone wants to settle down right away. Look at your brother Charlie."
Harry flushed nevertheless and hastily moved away, although the next people Hermione saw him talking to were Ginny and Neville, which seemed odd, almost as if he were deliberately reminding himself that he'd been the one to break it off with Ginny.
The party went on until the wee hours of the morning, and by its end Hermione was too tired to want to do anything except fall into bed, pushing her speculations about Harry to the back of her mind for the time being.
They fell quite rapidly into a pleasant, domestic routine. Draco's hours at St Mungo's were more irregular than Hermione's at the Ministry, but they did manage to eat dinner together most nights – Hermione's mother had always emphasised that as she was growing up – and found time for other activities as well. Mostly they indulged in the domination and submission that they both enjoyed on weekends, when there was time and opportunity to enact more elaborate scenarios if they wished, and sometimes they still went to Brands to do so, although once or twice they talked about investing in more permanent installations at home. Concern that some family member or friend might pop in unexpectedly and see what they preferred to keep private, however, kept them from actually doing so.
Hermione considered it her greatest triumph when she convinced Draco that he could indeed cook dinner for two of them, without the assistance of house-elves. She'd been dismayed when she learned that he had borrowed house-elf services from his parents on a regular basis before they moved in together, and made him promise that they would never have house-elves work for them in future. Even Draco, though, could not have much trouble opening tins of soup or putting something pre-made into the oven. Over time, he even ventured to try a few recipes from scratch, finding that the skill wasn't so very different from potion-making, at which he had always excelled.
Draco hadn't actually made the potato and leek soup that they were eating one fateful evening, although he had cooked the sprouts and sausages that were to follow. Somehow the bowl slipped through his fingers and landed with a hot splash on Hermione's lap.
"Oh, fuck," she yelped. "Damn it, Draco, you're not that clumsy!" She struggled to hold back tears; it hurt badly, although Draco pulled out his wand immediately to cast a cooling spell, and then fetched a healing potion to ease the scald further.
Despite his apologies, Hermione was still in a cross enough mood later that evening that when Draco asked if she had any new sexual ideas she wanted to try out, she said, not entirely in jest, that she fancied bringing another man into their bed sometime; to be specific, she fancied Harry.
Draco didn't react quite as she had expected. After a few moments of silence, he seemed more intrigued by the idea than threatened by it, in fact, asking if she was serious, and what made her think that Harry might be interested.
"The way that he looks at us," Hermione said. "You, me, the two of us together. I noticed it a while ago, but at that engagement party for Ginny and Neville last month, he couldn't take his eyes off us. You were feeding me a bite of cake and Harry looked... wistful, I suppose is the word I want. Not quite jealous, but as if he wished he were the one being fed, or maybe doing the feeding, I'm not sure.""
"Couldn't he?" Draco ran his fingers through his hair and leaned back. "I didn't notice that, but it didn't occur to me to pay attention, either. So you think that Harry might go for it?"
Hermione nodded. "He's dated a couple of wizards as well as various witches over the years," she said. "Discreetly, but still, he's done it. So perhaps he'd be interested in the two of us together. Just to see what that would be like – you know."
"I know that no Gryffindor can resist a challenge," Draco murmured. "I think that's why you first agreed to see me."
There was definitely some truth to that.
A few days later, while they were having one of their more-or-less regular lunches, Hermione invited Harry over for the evening. "It's been awhile since we've been able to talk without me having to race back to work, and I'd like you and Draco to get to know each other better, now that I'm living with him."
Harry looked slightly uncomfortable, but he agreed. "Shall I bring anything?" he asked.
"Only if you want to," Hermione said.
"All right. I'll see you at six-thirty on Friday then. I have to run – I've a meeting with the team sponsors in ten minutes. I think they want to convince me to do more publicity photos." He rolled his eyes, sketched a quick salute at her, and hurried out of the Ministry canteen.
Plenty of wine, Hermione decided, was going to be necessary to get Harry into the proper state of mind to hear out her proposal. Candles. An atmosphere that was sensual without being too overtly romantic, since that might frighten him off. Draco chose the wine and helped to get everything else ready the night before, since unfortunately his shift at St Mungo's wouldn't end until six.
"Nervous, love?" he asked Hermione as they waited for Harry's arrival. Draco had raced home to take a quick shower and change out of his hospital uniform, and his hair was still a little damp, clinging to his neck.
"Yes," she admitted. "He's been my friend for years and years, but what if I misread him? I think he's attracted to both of us, but what if I'm wrong? What if this idea upsets him?"
Draco stroked her back soothingly. "Don't worry about it. You know Harry too well to make a mistake like that. Maybe he won't be interested, but I shouldn't think he'd be offended, either."
A thump of the Floo signalled Harry's arrival, and Hermione put aside her worries to greet him with a warm hug.
During the meal she made sure that Harry's wineglass remained full; she calculated that he drank perhaps the equivalent of three or four glasses in the end before he finished and moved back to the living room where he accepted a glass of brandy.
She curled up next to Draco on the sofa, tucking her feet to the side and leaning against him. Whenever Harry wasn't talking, she could see hints of forlornness on his face as he looked at the two of them together.
The conversation had wound through variations on politics and Quidditch and general gossip and had died down to near-silence when Hermione said, "Harry."
Harry glanced up, the candlelight muting the green of his eyes behind his spectacles. "Hm?"
"We've seen you watching us." She turned her head and glanced at Draco, who nodded and patted her shoulder. "Both of us. Separately and together."
She could see Harry swallow hard.
"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean for you to realise. Don't worry, I won't let it happen again."
He set down his nearly-empty brandy glass and shoved his fringe back from his forehead. "I'd better leave."
"No, don't," said Draco.
Harry had begun to stand, but now he let himself sit back down, although he was on the edge of his chair and looked as though he might leap up and run out at any moment.
"We asked you here tonight because we thought you might be interested in acting on what you've been thinking," said Hermione. She was proud that her voice didn't seem to reflect the nervousness she felt.
"What?" Harry stared.
"Do you need it repeated?" Draco earned a brief elbow in the ribs for that remark. He added, "It's a serious offer, Harry. Hermione and I have talked it over, and decided that we both wanted to invite you to share our bed."
Harry turned his head away, and Hermione saw him blink rapidly as he tried to master his emotions.
"You don't have to answer now if you don't want to," she said anxiously.
"If I don't want to?" Harry's voice broke on the penultimate word. "God, Hermione, you don't know..." He took a deep breath. "You don't know how much this means to me, how amazing it is to have something I've dreamed of for ages actually happen." His voice cracked again.
Hermione slipped out from the circle of Draco's arm and went over to Harry, kneeling in front of him and putting her hand on his leg. He clutched at it as she said, "You and I have been friends more than half of our lives, Harry. I love Draco, but I realised that I can be attracted to you this way, too, without diminishing what I feel for him."
"Draco?" Harry was so rigid that Hermione knew it must be a deliberate attempt to keep himself from trembling.
"I'm not just doing this because Hermione wants it, if that's what you want to know. Don't you remember what happened when you got me out of the Room of Requirement?"
Hermione supposed Draco must be talking about the Battle of Hogwarts, but she had no idea what exactly he meant. She resolved to ask Draco later, however. Whatever it was, it seemed to convince Harry, for the tension in his body softened.
"I remember."
"Well, then," said Draco, with a "there, that's settled" air.
"Right." Harry stroked Hermione's hand where it rested on his knee. "I don't see any reason to wait when I know the answer I'll give is yes."
"Oh, Harry." Hermione reached her arms to draw Harry closer. Their first kiss was clumsy, tentative, as if Harry was still uncertain whether or not he should be doing this. The very awkwardness managed to be erotic, however; Hermione felt a flutter in her stomach as the kiss ended. She heard Draco behind her, standing up to walk over, but she couldn't take her eyes from Harry's face. He looked back at her with equal absorption until Draco laid his hands on Hermione's head, and then Harry glanced upward.
"I don't think this is going to be the most comfortable place to do much. Perhaps we should take things elsewhere?" suggested Draco.
"Yeah," agreed Harry a little hoarsely.
Hermione let Draco help her rise to her feet, and they each held out a hand for Harry to take as he stood.
"I'm really not sure how this is going to work out," Hermione admitted against Harry's chest as they stood in a three-way embrace for a long moment. "Physically, that is. Logistically."
Harry's chuckle had a slightly hysterical edge to it. "Neither do I."
"Nor I," said Draco, "so let's just try it and see."
It was only a few steps down the hallway to Draco and Hermione's bedroom, but it took rather a long time to get there, as they couldn't keep their hands off one another as they went. By the time they reached the bed, in fact, the two men had managed to undress Hermione completely and were wearing scarcely more themselves. Hermione stroked Harry's cock through the tented white fabric of his pants. Harry gave a soft groan, his head falling backward against Draco, who was standing behind him.
"God, yes," he said in an intense near-whisper.
Draco smiled at Hermione over Harry's shoulder, and she smiled back. "Let's take these off and lie down," she suggested, tugging the fabric down Harry's legs.
"How do you prefer it, with men?" Draco murmured, stroking the skin of Harry's shoulders.
"Hm?" Harry was glassy-eyed, his lips swollen with kisses.
"With men," Draco repeated. "Would you rather top or bottom?"
"Er. I usually prefer topping –"
Draco smiled at that.
"– but what about Hermione?" finished Harry.
"We don't have to do everything at once," Hermione said sensibly. "We've all the time we want. I'd rather enjoy watching the two of you together, I think." She had only ever once or twice watched Draco with another person, and that had been strictly in the context of dominance and submission, when she had deliberately handed him over to other women as part of his discipline. She was keen to see how Draco would respond to someone else, especially a man, without the security of those roles. She lay on her side, using pillows to prop herself up so that she could watch them comfortably while caressing her breasts with one hand and fingering her clit with the other.
Apparently Harry needed no further encouragement, for he turned to Draco and began kissing him, fierce slow kisses, pinning Draco under him. Draco's thighs parted so that Harry's knee could slip between them, and Hermione could catch glimpses of their cocks rubbing against each other's thighs.
"Yes," Draco muttered as Harry's mouth travelled along his neck and bit the hollow of his throat. "Go on, I like it rough."
Harry stilled for a moment at that, and Hermione wondered if perhaps Harry was put off by Draco's words, but he said hoarsely, "Lube?"
"I'll get it." Hermione used a wandless spell to Summon the bottle, which she had left inconveniently across the room. "Here, let me."
Harry sat up to let Draco roll onto his hands and knees.
"I like it like this," he told Harry, who nodded.
Hermione squeezed a generous dollop of lubricant onto Harry's fingers, and another onto her own. Together they made certain that Draco was ready to accept Harry's cock. Then Hermione guided the head of Harry's cock to Draco's tight aperture and watched as her lover was penetrated. She shuddered and her hand flew back to her cunt, pressing against her clit and rubbing in firm circles. She was familiar with Draco's expressions of pleasure during sex; he was unquestionably enjoying the way Harry fucked him, deep and slow. Harry looked dazed, as if he couldn't quite believe this was happening. He gripped Draco's hips like a lifeline, but his eyes rested on Hermione, who spread herself to give him more of a show.
"Do you like that, Draco?" she asked softly. "Harry's gorgeous prick splitting you open? I can tell you do, the way you're so flushed. Another time you can fuck me while Harry's fucking you, but I like watching like this too. You're so sexy together I can't stand it." She rubbed herself faster, a series of minor orgasms flickering through her.
Harry's face and chest were flushed with arousal. "God – gonna –" he choked out.
"And another time you'll fuck me, Harry. You'll pound into me and I'll come around you the way I am now." Hermione was panting, but she managed to keep talking. "Or maybe the two of you together could eat me out, one from the front, the other from behind. Draco has the most amazing tongue; you'll find out."
"Ohhh," Harry groaned, and arched his back as he came. He bent forward to put his arms around Draco's chest and rolled them over together, his cock still buried in Draco's arse. Reaching for Draco's prick, he began stroking it, saying, "How's this, then?"
"Rougher," begged Draco through gritted teeth, and Harry complied, increasing the tempo of his stroke. Then Draco was coming, spurting through Harry's fingers, the sharp smell of it tickling Hermione's nose.
"That was marvellous," she said.
"You didn't feel left out at all?" asked Harry with a touch of anxiety in his voice.
She chuckled. "No, I really didn't."
"I never imagined that you'd talk like that in bed." Harry blushed. "It was pretty hot."
"She's a real firecracker in bed," Draco agreed, stretching lazily and leaning over to give Hermione a lingering kiss. "Bossy, though."
Which was, of course, true, but they hadn't said anything at all to Harry about how they had gotten together in the first place. Someday perhaps they could tell him... especially if they did this again.
Harry stayed with them that night, a little shyly, borrowing a toothbrush from Hermione and a pair of too-large pyjama bottoms from Draco. Hermione would have expected to find a third person in bed disturbing – she had had enough trouble getting used to Draco – but somehow Harry's presence didn't bother her a bit. She slept well and deeply between the two men and woke in the morning with Draco sprawled out and snoring lightly to one side and Harry curled up against her on the other.
"I'm not quite sure what to do now," admitted Harry over breakfast. "I mean, you two are a couple already, and while I was pleased, even honoured, by your inviting me to join you last night, I don't want to presume too much." He took an enormous bite of toast thickly spread with marmalade and looked from Hermione to Draco and back again.
"The sex was good," said Hermione matter-of-factly, causing Harry to choke slightly and produce a spray of wet toast crumbs across his plate. "At least, I certainly enjoyed it, and you both seemed to as well."
"Oh, unquestionably," Draco agreed, running one sock-clad foot along Hermione's calf.
"Yes, fine, but um. We've been friends for a long time, Hermione and me," said Harry when he managed to swallow properly. "Is this going to change things between us?"
"I hope not. It doesn't have to," Hermione said.
"Okay." Harry sounded relieved, although there was something in his voice that Hermione couldn't quite label, too.
He left shortly thereafter, saying that he'd Owl Hermione about having lunch again soon. She didn't hear anything all week, and fretted about it to Draco, who advised her to wait a little longer, send a message to Harry the following week if he still hadn't been in touch.
On Friday, at six-thirty, the doorbell rang. Harry stood there holding a bottle of wine.
"Can I come in?"
Hermione smiled enormously. "Draco!"
She led Harry inside. They hadn't planned on having an extra person to feed that night, but it didn't matter; the three of them ended up going directly to the bedroom anyhow.
The following Friday, it was the same, although this time Hermione guessed that Harry would turn up and made sure to have enough frozen quiche for three.
After a couple of months in which Harry came over every Friday and stayed the night – Quidditch season was over, luckily – Hermione woke up one Saturday to find Harry propped on his elbow, looking at her.
He saw that she was awake and stroked a stray lock of hair out of her face. "What are we doing?" he asked quietly, as Draco slept on.
"I... don't know," Hermione confessed. "Maybe we should talk. With Draco, too."
Harry nodded. "Want me to help make breakfast?"
They got up and went into the kitchen. Eventually the smell of frying bacon lured Draco out to join them at the table.
"I've really been happy being with the two of you, these past weeks," Harry said in a rush. "But the thing is, I want to know where matters stand. If this is just about the sex... I'm not sure I want that. Not that I don't like it, I do, very much, but I want more."
"Of course you do. It's only natural that you should want to settle down into a relationship, something meaningful. Not that everyone wants that, but you've never been the go-it-alone type, Harry," said Hermione, and spooned up a grapefruit section. "I think we could move forward with things."
"What are you suggesting?" Draco asked.
"Obviously this isn't something that can happen at the drop of a hat; think of how long it took us to develop an emotional relationship, Draco," said Hermione. "I think that perhaps the way to go about it is for the three of us to spend time together, getting to know each other in different ways: talking, doing things, and so on. Not just having sex, good though that is."
"Perhaps both you and I should each spend time alone just with Harry, too," said Draco thoughtfully. He had finished eating his toast and now rose to make a fresh pot of tea.
"I'd like that," said Harry. "Hermione and I might have been friends for years, but it's still different now, and you and I have never really gotten to know each other, Draco."
"As long as none of us expects all this to happen overnight. We each have jobs, for one thing, and other friends and family. But I think Draco's suggestion is a good one. This week, for example," Hermione said, "I'm going to be terribly busy at work, as we're coping with some newly-proposed legislation, but Draco's schedule is freer, I think?"
Draco nodded. "You and I could have lunch or dinner together sometime this week, if you're free," he told Harry, who nodded.
"That would be great."
"See?" Hermione smiled at Harry. "Not so difficult, really. Although time will tell if we can work it all out."
"If we want to, we will," Draco said in a firm voice.
After Harry had gone home, though, Draco wasn't quite so sanguine.
"I like having sex with him," he told Hermione.
"I'd noticed," she said with a laugh.
"Come on, I'm trying to be serious here. I like having sex with Harry, but more? I don't know. You and Ron broke up because you didn't feel you had much in common. What do Harry and I have in common, really?"
"Isn't that what you'd be spending time alone with him to find out?" Hermione asked reasonably. "If you really don't get along outside of bed, then it'll become clear that there's no long-term future for the three of us. It wouldn't be fair to Harry to just have sex with him, and me be friends; that's not what he wants or deserves, so it would be better to figure out sooner rather than later if the two of you can become friends, too."
Draco frowned. "Yeah."
"What's the problem? You don't look that happy."
He denied that there was one, but when Hermione pushed, he finally snapped, "You've been so happy with Harry in our bed – I feel like I'm being pressured to get along with him, or you might decide to go with him instead of me."
"No." Hermione shook her head. "Draco, I love you. Yes, I love Harry too, but it's still more of a friendship kind of love, along with physical attraction, admittedly. You and I have something special together, though, and I don't want to lose that. If it's really a problem for you, becoming friends with Harry, I want you to be honest about that."
"Okay." Draco took a deep breath. "I'll try. But without you there – he and I, you know how we acted toward each other in school. I'm afraid we'll fall into that pattern again."
Hermione chuckled. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe part of the reason why the two of you were always sniping at each other was because you were each attracted to the other and didn't want to admit it?"
Draco blinked. "No."
"Well, think about it. And have lunch or whatever with Harry, and see how it goes." Hermione kissed him. "Meanwhile, I have a suggestion to pass the time." She whispered in his ear, and Draco responded enthusiastically.