InsaneJournal

Hermione sat, her thoughts consumed by a cloud of despondence. She tried not to let Harry see it, but when he was not there…well, she just could not help it. Hermione held her wand between her thumb and forefinger. She allowed the weight of the willow to draw the tip of the wand towards the ground. Hermione dragged the tip lightly over the cold ground, coating the tip in crumbling dirt. Hermione could feel the tears burning behind her eyelids; the all too familiar jagged lump grew steadily in her throat. Hermione attempted to deny its presence: she gulped emphatically, and rubbed her eyes trying to drive the inevitable tears away, but to no avail. Letting her eyelids fall closed, and her wand tumble gently to the dirt on which she sat, Hermione felt the warm liquid caress her cheeks. Hermione shook her head: “Enough”, she whispered harshly to herself. She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand before retrieving her wand and slipping it into the pocket of her jeans.

 

Hermione crawled to her feet. As she stood, she wiped the dirt from the seat of her pants, before smoothing the denim that clothed her slender thighs. Hermione looked around, peering into the deepening dark of the winter afternoon. “Where is Harry?” Hermine asked herself. She bit her lip nervously: he had been gone an awfully long time. “Too long,” Hermione muttered to herself as she jogged hastily around the perimeter of where they had set up camp.

 

Hermione’s chest tightened, her breathing quickened: where was he? Her eyes darted, searching for the familiar black mop of hair, and the piercing green eyes: surely, she thought to herself, surely he would emerge from the nearby wood at any moment. Hermione stood, hands on her hips, her right foot tapping almost uncontrollably: any moment now.

 

Only…there was nothing. No shock of black hair, no bespectacled emerald eyes: nothing. “Oh no,” Hermione whispered under her breath: Oh no. Hermione broke into a jog as she made her way back to the tent: she would have to look for him, Harry, she would need…

“Hermione!”

Hermione dropped the things she held in her trembling hands as her head snapped around.

“Hermione!”

Hermione’s face cracked into a grin, her front teeth seeming more prominent than ever as she tore out of the tent into the open.

“Hermione!” Ron gasped as Hermione ran towards him and Harry.

Hermione broke into a run at the sight of Ron’s freckled, if a little beleaguered face.

“Ron,” Hermione croaked breathlessly as she buried her face in the crook of Ron’s neck.

Ron enveloped Hermione’s panting body in his arms: he could feel her chest rising and falling, her breasts pressing against his torso. Ron closed his eyes, surrendering to the warmth of Hermione’s welcoming embrace.

“Oh, Ron!” Hermione breathed against Ron’s neck, calling the covering fine fuzzy hairs to attention.

Ron squeezed Hermione’s body against his own, a firm hand placed on the small of her back. Hermione’s hands roved through Ron’s matted hair as she nestled her cheek against his defined chin. Ron parted his lips, cold and wet from his experience in the lake, pressing them fiercely against Hermione’s. The heat of Hermione’s lips and tongue, and the saliva that was now mixing with his own sent a shiver through Ron’s entire body. Ron gripped Hermione’s buttocks firmly in each hand, holding her so close, and so tightly, that he could feel the bones of her pelvis grating against his own.

 

Standing not more than a few steps from this scene was Harry. He stood, shuffling his feet uncomfortably. As he watched Ron and Hermione embrace one another, the bitterly cold wind whipped through the clearing, chilling Harry to his very bones. He cleared his throat as he dug the toe into the dirt.

“I’ll just…I’ll…” Harry almost seemed to whimper, gesturing towards the empty tent. Harry sighed: his pathetic attempt to draw their attention to his rather awkward presence was unheard between the heaving chests, heavy breathing and crumpling of fabric between fingers and fists. Harry turned to return to the tent, his head hanging, hands in his pockets.

“Harry,” whispered Hermione. Harry turned his head.

“Harry,” Hermione repeated, louder though no less gentle this time. Hermione’s eyes seemed to glow with a previously unseen warmth (at least, it had not been noticed by Harry) as she extricated herself momentarily from Ron’s grasp. Hermione, her hips still pressed against Ron’s, but her face inclined towards Harry, extended a small hand. She motioned for Harry to walk towards her. Harry was puzzled. He lifted one leg as though to step, but hesitated: he wasn’t sure what it was exactly that Hermione meant. Seeing Harry’s uncertainty, Hermione nodded, smiling, her buckteeth protruding slightly from her mouth and pressing against her full bottom lip. Harry gulped, turning his questioning gaze to Ron: he, too, nodded.

 

Harry strode, more confidently now, towards Ron and Hermione. Hermione reached for his hand as he approached. Harry allowed his fingers to entwine with Hermione’s, her fingernails occasionally scratching his palm. Harry looked at the smiling Hermione, and at the drenched, though somewhat contented Ron.

“Ron, are you…?” Harry asked tentatively.

“Yeah mate, I’m sure,” Ron replied, as he grasped Harry’s free hand. Satisfied that this was, in fact, alright, Harry joined Ron and Hermione in smiling: it had been far too long since any of them had engaged in the activity, and the freedom with which they did it now was liberating.

 

The three friends stood, enclosed in a tight circle, bodies pressed against each other. Their breathing, which increased in sheer anticipation of what they were about to do, cast silvery patterns in the air, mingling, joining, and then disappearing completely.

 

Hermione and Ron each placed a hand behind Harry’s back, clasping their fingers as they did so. Hermione leaned across, kissing Ron with a passion that Harry didn’t think she had in her. Ron licked the side of Hermione’s tear-streaked face as she turned to Harry. Lips parted, Hermione kissed him. Ron entwined his long fingers in Hermione’s hair, urging her to turn her attention back to him. She did, as Harry stood, stunned and excited, watching his two friends lock lips for what seemed like an eternity.

 

Harry could feel his cock twitching uncomfortably against his trousers as he watched the interplay of Ron and Hermione’s tongues, a mess of sticky pink flesh and saliva. And then…their heads parted, revealing a grinning Ron. Hermione nodded at him, and then at Harry. Harry felt a hand gently caress his buttocks, slender fingers tracing the line and shape of his flesh. Hermione stepped back. Placing one hand on Ron’s shoulder, and another on Harry’s, she turned them to face one another. Harry gasped as Ron’s lips clashed against his own. Ron’s pushed his tongue past his teeth and into Harry’s mouth, where it met its slimy, muscular compatriot. Harry groaned as Ron pulled him close: he could feel Ron’s arousal increase with each movement of their lips and tongue.

 

“Oh,” Hermione rasped suddenly, drawing the attention of both Ron and Harry. Their lips detached, a strand of saliva finding Harry’s chin. Hermione slid a hand down over her own stomach and rubbed it against her crotch, stimulating herself through the fabric of her jeans. Ron released Harry and almost threw his body at Hermione’s. Hermione grunted noisily as Ron unbuttoned her jeans, letting them slide softly over her thighs. Ron took the cotton of Hermione’s underpants between his thumb and forefinger and, creating a sort of band, slipped it between the lips of her cunt. Ron manipulated Hermione’s underpants, grinding the seam against her clitoris as she moaned. Her hips gyrating, Hermione emitted a shrill squeak as she bucked suddenly against Ron’s hand: the fabric of her underpants was soaked through.

 

Ron thrust his hips against Hermione’s. She could feel his erection pressing against her body. Her cunt throbbed. Her inner thighs were slippery and glistening with the evidence of her arousal. She looked over Ron’s shoulder to see Harry: pants bunched around his ankles, Harry fumbled somewhat violently with his cock, panting. Hermione chewed her bottom lip as she unfastened Ron’s belt, exposing his erection to the wintery elements. Hermione rubbed her hand against her cunt, coating them in a layer of lubrication. She gripped Ron’s cock in her hand, sliding her fist up and down the shaft.

 

“Hermione,” Ron moaned, his stomach convulsing as his breathing increased, “Hermione,” he begged again. Hermione released Ron from her grip. She fell to her knees before him, positioning herself on the ground so that she was lying flat on her back, her legs spread. Shocked by the sudden halt to proceedings, Ron looked frantically around for Hermione’s hand. He found it: Hermione reached up from her prostrate position and holding onto the bottom of Ron’s short, forcefully pulled him down on top of her. Hermione could feel Ron’s prick throbbing as it rested against the base of her stomach.

“You sure?” Ron asked Hermione eagerly.

“Yes,” Hermione whispered, pulling Ron to her in a passionate kiss.

Ron pressed the tip of his cock against the outer lips of Hermione’s cunt, parting them gently as he thrust slowly into her. Hermione moaned, her expression one of confused pleasure. Ron rocked slowly deeper into Hermione, desperately trying to control his thrusts so as not to hurt her at all. Behind them Harry stood, mouth agape, hips bucking against his own hand.

 

“Harry!” Hermione growled suddenly, her hand reaching upwards. She waved her fingers hurriedly: Harry shuffled towards her, trying not to trip over the pants that were around his ankles. As Harry approached the writhing bodies on the cold, hard (and, undoubtedly uncomfortable) ground, the urgency of Ron’s thrusts increased; Hermione’s hips involuntarily rose to meet Ron’s. Harry continued to stumble forward, his prick in hand. Ron’s face contorted drool trickling over his lips as he moaned in ecstasy.

 

Ron fell against Hermione, resting his head on her stomach, his hair tickling her breasts. Hermione squirmed beneath Ron’s weight, attempting to sit up, resting on her elbows as he withdrew his cock, whimpering gratefully.

“Harry,” Hermione said suddenly, tilting her head upwards: she was confronted with the sight of Harry’s balls and cock just inches from her face as he stood over her. Hermione pulled Harry down by the calves. At Hermione’s request, Harry turned his body around, positioning his cock for easier entry into her mouth. Hermione licked her lips, moistening them before she placed them lightly on the head of Harry’s prick. Hermione sucked gently on the tip.

“Nngh,” Harry groaned as he closed his eyes. Hermione slurped hungrily at Harry’s cock, examining every inch of his erection with her tongue. Harry’s body began to tense as he tried to control his sporadic pelvic movements. Hermione subjected Harry’s prick to one last, long slow swirl of her tongue, drawing forth a climactic shout of pleasure from The Boy Who Lived.

 

Harry, who had been straddling Hermione’s face, scrambled weakly away from her, collapsing onto the ground. Hermione, holding Harry’s come in her mouth, crawled towards the recumbent Ron as he lay on the ground, lazily looping his fingers around his sticky cock. Hermione slid her body over Ron, kissing him full on the mouth: Harry’s semen mixed with Hermione and Ron’s saliva. Extricating their lips and tongues from one another, Ron and Hermione both swallowed what remained of Harry’s arousal, moaning contentedly in unison.

 

Ron and Hermione then got to their feet, pulling up and fastening underwear and jeans where required. They walked hand in hand to where Harry still lay, half-asleep. Ron and Hermione each hooked one arm through one of Harry’s and, hoisting him to his feet, the three walked back to their tent. An air of subdued joy emanated from the Trio: Ron had returned (itself a happy event) and, tonight, at least, they would sleep.