Title: A Night at the Ministry
Author: celandineb
Characters: Harry/Neville/Percy
Rating: NC17
Warnings: uh, threesome? it's actually pretty vanilla, in its way
Themes/kinks chosen: pheromones, relics, insufflation, romantic marriage (sort of)
Word Count: ~2650
Summary: Neither Harry nor Percy enjoys Ministry functions. Usually.
Author's notes: Thanks to alisanne for listening to me brainstorm about this! It's epilogue-what-epilogue, by the way.


For all that Percy and Harry lived together, each worked for the Ministry, and were both still quote-unquote war heroes some ten years after the Battle of Hogwarts, they rarely attended any given Ministry function, much less together. Harry had always hated the fame attendant on being who he was, and avoided any public event whenever possible. Percy went if his position as junior minister required it, but since Shacklebolt actually liked that sort of thing, and Percy preferred to spend his evenings with Harry, it generally worked out that Percy did more of the behind-the-scenes negotiating and spent less time in the public eye than his boss.

Percy and Harry had considered getting married, some five years into their relationship. Percy made an offhand comment about "regularizing matters" and after Harry had first teased him about it and then dragged him off to bed to show him how enjoyable irregular activities could be, the two of them had discussed the question more seriously.

"Mother suggested it," Percy admitted, his glasses slightly askew, otherwise naked in bed and propped up on one elbow so he could look at Harry. "All her other children are married, after all, and while she knows there aren't grandchildren from me in her future – "

"We might adopt someday," Harry pointed out.

"Not the same thing, to her. And besides, I told you ages ago that I don't want children, and you agreed with me. Unless you want to revisit that?" asked Percy cautiously, glad when Harry shook his head. "Anyhow, the point is that it was her idea, and I brought it up because she asked me to, but I don't really care. Do you?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't need to marry you to promise to be here for the rest of my life." He touched Percy's face. "I love you."

"I love you too, Harry."

And they had left it at that, not dismissing the possibility entirely, but not seeing it as something necessary to them or worth the fuss and trouble that it would doubtless entail. They didn't need it for themselves, so the only reason to get married would be to have the ceremony for Percy's family, and that seemed rather a waste of time and effort.

Since they were not married, though, and the Ministry was still rather old-fashioned in spots, the official Ministry invitations were normally addressed to either "Harry Potter" or "Percy Weasley," and did not include "and guest" as they would have included "and spouse." Which meant that Harry saw no need of attending anything Percy was asked to, and in fact he avoided attending even those functions to which he himself was invited whenever possible.

This night, however, it was unavoidable. Ten years after Voldemort's death, the memorial celebrations would be extensive, and both Harry and Percy would have to attend or look standoffish and ungrateful.

"I suppose it's best robes," said Harry in a tone of disgust, reaching for them.

"Of course." Percy was running a brush through his hair. "I should have found time to get this trimmed."

"I like it longer like that, though," said Harry. He stroked the back of Percy's neck. "This is going to be incredibly dull, you know. Speeches and toasts and all the usual tripe."

"Probably. I could pretend to be whispering something to you and really be blowing in your ear, if you like."

Harry blushed and shivered pleasurably. Percy had discovered long ago that Harry's ears were extremely sensitive, and took shameless advantage of the fact. "Do you really want me to have stand up and speak in front of everyone with a raging hard on?" he protested.

"No one will be able to tell, given that you're wearing formal robes," said Percy matter-of-factly. "But all right, I won't. Let's just hope that there's someone interesting to talk to for a change."

The event being extremely formal, both Harry and Percy were seated at the head table, raised above the rest of the room: Percy for his Ministry position and Harry, of course, because he was Voldemort's defeater. They were even next to each other, which Percy muttered must have been due to sheer chance. To Harry's relief, though, not only was there someone he knew on his other side, it was Neville Longbottom, whom he hadn't seen in several years. Neville looked very brown and fit, and the warmth of his handshake made Harry's pulse beat just a little faster.

Neville had much to say about conditions in various parts of the world, where evidently he had been traveling and collecting specimens to send back to his green houses, which were supervised in his absence by the unlikely team of Alicia Spinnet and Terry Boot. He leaned around Harry from time to time to ask questions of Percy on Harry's other side, mostly about the regulations regarding importation of restricted plants.

Each time that Neville leaned close in that way, Harry felt another jolt of excitement. He couldn't stop staring at Neville, watching the way his throat moved when he talked and wondering how Neville's lips would feel against his own. Neville smelled good, like... Harry couldn't think of what it was like. He almost felt as if he had drunk Amortentia. Under cover of the table, he reached for Percy's hand and squeezed it, trying to distract himself.

Percy whispered in Harry's ear – and it was a real whisper, for once he wasn't trying to turn Harry on – "Neville grew up to be quite something, didn't he?"

Harry turned his head to look carefully at Percy, who was trying to maintain a bland expression but had a hint of a smile playing around his mouth.

"He certainly has," Harry agreed, sotto voce. He ran his tongue over his lip. They had talked in the past about one of Harry's sexual fantasies, to have a third man in their bed, but had never acted on it. Perhaps now was their opportunity. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Percy's glasses caught the light as he nodded. "He's been watching you. Ask him over for a drink afterward or something," he whispered.

When Neville had stopped talking with Luna Lovegood on his other side and turned back to Harry, Harry rested his hand lightly on Neville's thigh. "If you're not otherwise engaged after all the obligatory speech-making is finished," Harry said, "perhaps you'd like to come back to our place for a drink?"

Neville sought and held Harry's eyes with his own for a moment, flicked a glance over Harry's shoulder at Percy, and then nodded deliberately.

"Excellent," said Harry. Neville's leg quivered under Harry's fingertips, and he gave Neville one last pat before the speeches began.

At the end of the meal, Neville said in an undertone to Harry, "Did the two of you Apparate here or take the Floo?"

"Apparated," said Percy. "Do you know the coordinates for our flat, or would you like me to Side-along you?"

Neville's teeth were white against his tanned cheeks as he grinned. "I think I can manage. Just give me a couple of minutes; I wanted to say hello to one or two people first."

"All right. We'll expect you shortly," said Harry.

"I think this calls for brandy," said Percy as soon as they had materialized in their living room. Harry agreed.

"I'll just get down the glasses. You open that new bottle."

Percy had poured three drinks and he and Harry were sitting on the squashy grey leather sofa when Neville arrived a few minutes later.

"Brandy?" offered Harry, gesturing at the untouched glass on the table. "Grab it and come and sit here."

Neville nodded, and for a moment Harry could see the awkward boy Neville had once been as he reached clumsily for the glass and nearly spilled it in his haste to sit down.

For a few minutes they carried on the same sort of general conversation that they had been having at the banquet, then Harry decided to get to the point. "Do you like going to bed with men, Neville?"

Neville choked on his brandy, and Percy murmured, "Harry."

When Neville had finished mopping at his streaming eyes, however, he met Harry's gaze squarely and said, "I always have."

"Really?" Harry was slightly surprised. "But you went to the Yule Ball with Ginny."

Neville laughed. "I was in fourth year at the time, as you'll remember, and I wasn't exactly prepared to rock the boat to that extent. Besides, you actually went out with her for quite some time." He glanced meaningfully at first Harry and then Percy.

"I hadn't realized yet that my affections lay with a different Weasley." Harry leaned against Percy and felt Percy's arm around his waist.

"Well, if I tell you that Ginny and I spent most of our time together at the ball talking about you, Harry, would that make a difference?" Neville's face was pink beneath his tan.

"Really?" Harry asked.

"Really," Neville said. He opened his mouth as if to add something more, turned even redder, and shut it again.

"What?"

"Nothing," Neville muttered.

"Oh, come on," said Harry. He finished his brandy and set the glass down, then leaned forward, took away Neville's glass too, and put his hands on either side of Neville's face to draw him in for a kiss that left them both gasping. Percy stroked Harry's warm back as Harry kissed Neville.

"What is it you were going to say?" Percy asked when the kiss was over.

He had deliberately used what Harry called Percy's Head Boy voice, which meant that whoever he was speaking to generally answered without even thinking about it, and such was the case with Neville.

"I didn't just talk about Harry, back in school." Neville gulped. "Harry, I don't know if you remember that from time to time one of your socks or undershirts went missing from your Quidditch gear?"

"Not really, but I never paid that close of attention to my socks. If I did I probably thought that Dobby had taken them. Are you saying...?"

"I, um, I 'borrowed' a few things." Now Neville was bright scarlet, but Harry could see that he was also aroused, his trousers tight across the bulge of his cock. "I used to wank over them... actually, I still have one shirt."

"I've always found that the real thing is better," said Percy. "If you'd like to try him out."

Neville looked at Percy curiously. "You don't mind?"

Percy shrugged. "Harry and I have been together for eight years. I trust him, so if he wants you, I'm willing to give it a try. Once, at least."

Neville reached past Harry to grasp Percy's hand.

"I appreciate that, more than you can imagine." He grinned suddenly. "And frankly, I may have been secretly mooning after Harry for years and years, but that's not to say that I don't think you're pretty hot too in your own way."

It was Percy's turn to blush, then.

"Now that that's all settled," said Harry, "perhaps we might adjourn this to somewhere a little more suitable, like the bedroom?"

Once there, Neville insisted on being allowed to undress Harry, and he lingered almost reverently, pressing kisses to each inch of exposed skin. Percy removed his own clothes, laying them tidily over the back of a chair, and began to watch them from the bed. He stroked himself seemingly idly, but he was enjoying the sight of his lover with another man rather more than he'd expected.

When they were all naked at last, Harry drew Neville down to the bed, positioning himself between Neville and Percy. "How do you want this, Neville? I'm quite happy as either a top or a bottom, myself."

Neville went a delicious pink again at Harry's straightforward question. "If you really don't mind, I, um, I'd rather top."

"Good," said Percy, with a kiss to Harry's neck. "I much prefer bottoming, so Harry doesn't get to do that as often as he'd like."

Harry gave Neville another kiss, running his hand along Neville's side and hip. "Percy? Want to get me ready first, and then Neville can start fucking me while I do the same to you?" He caressed Neville's prick, which quivered in his hand.

"Merlin's teeth, Harry, if you aren't careful I'm not going to be able to hold out," Neville swore.

Harry gave him a wicked grin. "Then we'd have to wait until you were ready for another go, wouldn't we?"

Neville smiled and snorted and pulled Harry's hand away, bringing it up so that he could suck on Harry's fingers one by one, his tongue tracing the length of each, provoking an answering pull in Harry's groin. Behind him Percy was probing at his arsehole, opening him with slick fingers.

"That should do it," said Percy.

Harry rolled over in Neville's arms, wriggling his bum against Neville's eager cock and kissing Percy hard even as Neville breached him. Neville's cock was hot and thick and Harry groaned with delight as Neville began to thrust. His own hands were busy feeling up Percy, sinking into his very willing arse.

"From behind, I think," Percy murmured. Harry nodded. Usually he preferred to be able to look at Percy, but that would probably be easier. Besides, he wasn't sure if he wanted Percy watching his face while Neville was fucking him.

Harry sighed with pleasure as his cock slid into familiar tight heat. The tempo of his thrusts was controlled by Neville's movements, a fraction slower than Harry would have chosen, and Percy gave a small whimper, pushing himself back hard against Harry, whose hand dropped down to fondle Percy's cock and bollocks.

"God, Harry, god," Neville panted into Harry's ear, making Harry squirm and shudder.

Then Neville speeded up, pumping his hips more vigorously, and Harry gasped as a shift in angle stimulated his prostate. He bit into Percy's shoulder and cried out softly, retaining just enough control to keep from shouting out either man's name, instead babbling, "Yes, yes oh fuck yes," as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm him.

Percy was writhing and yowling like a cat in heat, and Harry knew that Percy too was on the verge of coming. Moments later Percy's seed spilled hot and thick into Harry's hand, his arse clenching Harry's cock in rippling contractions that triggered Harry's own orgasm.

Neville was still thrusting into Harry, giving little grunts as he did so.

Wanting to encourage him, Harry began to talk, something he often did on the occasions when he'd persuaded Percy to top.

"Yes Neville, come on, fuck me, your cock feels so good, give it to me, yes." He went on in the same vein for several minutes, telling Neville what it felt like to be fucked by him, how good it was, begging him to keep going.

Neville seemed to like Harry talking dirty as much as Percy usually did, because he gripped Harry harder and pounded into him wildly, coming in one last silent thrust and then stilling, his forehead pressed against Harry's shoulder blade and his breath coming in quick pants as he slowly pulled out.

Harry's arse was a bit sore and he could feel the trickle of Neville's semen tickling him as it dripped, but he was telling no more than the truth when he said, "That was brilliant." He reached awkwardly behind him to pat Neville's hip, and rubbed his cheek against Percy's back at the same time.

"Yeah," breathed Neville against Harry's neck. Percy was nodding.

"It was; I have to say I was a little dubious, but that was wonderful."

"Thanks." Neville sounded shy. "I should probably get going, though."

"No, stay the night," Percy invited him. "I'll make Harry cook us eggs in the morning."

Harry laughed. "Sure, if you want. Do stay, Neville."

So Neville did.