Title: Songbird
Author: writcraft
Characters/Pairings: Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger, Harry Potter/Hermione Granger
Rating: NC-17
Kinks/Themes Chosen: Group sex
Other Warnings: OTK spanking, clit spanking, cropping, anal, use of toys, oral sex
Word Count: ~2,500
Summary/Description: Hermione has a fantasy. Ron does what he can to fulfil it.
Author's Notes: Thanks to A for the quick beta read. Enjoy!



“I just want to treat you well.” Ron is battling with himself – his fists clench, and his cheeks flush a dull pink.

“I’m not asking you to treat me badly.” Hermione is embarrassed and wishes she hadn’t said anything. Ron doesn’t seem to understand and she fears she’s just made everything worse.

“But you want me to hurt you?”

“Not exactly,” Hermione sighs.

“Is there a book about all this?” Ron grins, the mood lightens, and he reaches for Hermione to squeeze her hand.

“There might be something.” Hermione returns Ron’s smile because he knows her too well. She finds the book of stories which piqued her interest and slides it across the table. “Would this help?”

“I’ll take a look,” Ron answers.

He pockets the book and that is the end of the discussion.

* * *

“You took your time. I left the Ministry two hours ago – it must have been a long meeting.”

“You could say that.”

“Dinner will be ready in an hour or two.” Hermione turns her back to Ron and continues to prepare their meal.

“Dinner can wait.”

“That’s not what you usually say,” Hermione laughs.

“Perhaps not.” Ron stands behind her and Hermione can feel him, hard and eager, even through his thick Auror robes. He hesitates, nips her ear and places a light thwack on her backside, his voice gruff. “Too much?”

“No, not too much.” Heat spreads between Hermione’s legs and she feels restless, eager and flushed with need.

“Then strip. Over my knee.” Ron sits, with a scrape of his chair and pats his thighs. Hermione obliges, and strips down to her underpants, bending over Ron’s lap with a low moan. He traces his hand over her backside and slides her knickers down. “I told you to strip. Naughty girl.”

He brings his hand down with a crack and the sharp sting is both painful and perfect. He hesitates, breathless, and Hermione presses up for more. Ron’s hand smacks down on her backside again in reply.

And that is the beginning of it all.

* * *

“Keep them open.”

The crop whispers through the air and falls with a light tap, tap in between Hermione’s legs, which she spreads, willingly. She finds it hard to speak when she’s like this, her arms stretched out ahead of her and her body arched over their dining room table.

She wonders why Ron chose this location of all places, when they have a perfectly good bedroom just upstairs. The end of the crop rubs between her legs and Hermione sucks in a breath. Ron is something of a pro at this now, although Hermione still remembers the time when it was all about how and why as they tried to find their way together.

Ron seems to enjoy taking charge, and that’s what Hermione really craves at times. In all other respects, Hermione likes to be in control, and it’s only ever Ron that she allows to take that control from her – because he is the only one Hermione trusts to give it back, in the end.

“Why are we in the dining room?” Hermione twists, but Ron has been practicing his Incarcerous and Obscuro and she can’t move her body very easily or see anything from beneath her blindfold.

“Because I invited a friend round for dinner.” Ron still sounds distinctly Ron, but his voice takes on a note of command when they play like this and Hermione shivers.

“You wouldn’t.” Hermione flexes her hands and struggles a little, to no avail. There is a whoosh from the Floo and she stills. “Ron? Ron, please…”

“Do you trust me?” Ron’s hand slips over Hermione’s side and he presses his lips to her ear.

“Yes.” Because she does – with everything she has.

“You can stop this at any time, do you understand?”

“Yes.” Hermione knows she just needs to say the word.

“We’ve talked about this before.”

“I know, but I never thought…” Hermione trails off, unable to deny the way her body reacts to Ron's plans. She knows the answer before she asks the question, because there’s only one person Ron would trust with this. “Who?”

“Harry – who else?”

She knows there is nobody else, but the name sets Hermione’s heart racing and she clenches her hands which stretch uselessly in front of her.

“Oh Merlin - Ron, I can’t let him see me like this.”

“Trust me, love. Can we carry on?”

Shifting from side to side, Hermione closes her eyes behind her blindfold. She wonders why Harry would ever agree to this, given everything, but she doesn’t have time to process that because Ron is waiting for an answer.

“Yes – we can carry on.” Hermione shifts her legs and holds her breath, as Ron kisses her cheek and she can hear footfall and murmured conversation.

Then there is a warmth behind her, and she can tell it’s Harry because she can smell his familiar cologne. He dips his head and kisses her cheek, and when he speaks his voice is warm and wonderful.

“You look bloody lovely.”

Of course he would say that, because he’s Harry and he’s good and kind.

“You have to say that.” Hermione laughs, but it comes out choked because Harry’s hand is stroking her backside and it’s damned distracting.

“No I don’t,” Harry replies, cheerfully. “I’m only telling the truth.”

Harry kisses her and whispers that he’s wanted this for ages. Then the warmth leaves her, and the crop returns with another tap between her legs.

“Nice and wide.” That’s Ron this time, and she opens her legs dutifully, already aching from the excitement of being watched.

The crop falls over her clit with perfect precision. The taps become harder snaps and Hermione groans and closes her legs. The slide of the crop – now damp against her bare thighs – prompts her to open them wide again.

When Hermione struggles to keep her legs open, the crop snaps over her backside with a whistle through the air. She flinches and melts against the table and listens for Ron’s gruff voice to bring her back into the moment.

“Count them.”

Hermione nods and does as he asks, counting up to twenty and flinching on every smack against her skin. After twenty, the crop clatters to the floor and the warm heat returns behind her once more. She breathes in deeply and the cologne is the same, familiar scent from before. Hermione whimpers as Harry’s hand moves between her legs and cups her, his lips running along her neck.

“You enjoyed that?” Harry sounds surprised and rubs his fingers over her, before smacking his hand against her most intimate parts. “And this?” He smacks again and Hermione presses into his hand, desperate for another touch, nodding eagerly.

Harry continues to smack between Hermione’s legs until her moans are loud and desperate. His touch caresses her backside, before he pulls back and with a crack his palm connects with her skin. Harry spanks her backside with a firm, sure hand until Hermione knows she will feel it the next day and the day after that. He lets out a hum of satisfaction, seemingly pleased, and returns to run his fingers over her, making her jerk under the touch.

“Are you allowed to come or do you have to ask permission?” Harry sounds amused and breathless, and he nibbles her ear.

“I can come.” Hermione lets out a soft moan as Harry’s fingers return to teasing her. Ron has never been one for controlling her pleasure, and the fact that Harry thinks about it makes her flush. She wonders what other tricks he has up his sleeve.

“It seems a shame to rush things.” Harry sounds amused again and his fingers move higher, through her crease. He pauses to rub his thumb over her hole and Hermione tenses. “No?”

“It’s just…only Ron…”

“I see.” Harry moves his fingers away and back to teasing over her clit and presses his lips to her ear, his hot breath making her shiver. “And if Ron’s alright with it?”

“Then…then I am, too.” Hermione gasps out the words, as Harry presses two fingers inside her, quick and deep.

“I’m pleased to hear it. Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Harry continues his ministrations, his fingers working deep inside Hermione, palming the heel of his hand over her clit as he does so, until Hermione shudders and clenches around his fingers and murmurs his name as she reaches completion.

“Harry.”

When she comes down from her orgasm, she wonders where Ron is, thinking he’s been awfully quiet. She almost stops thinking altogether when cold lubricant slides through the crease of her buttocks. Harry’s fingers return to that place and he works one inside her, with a slow pumping motion as he nips at her neck and kisses her lips to help her relax.

“That’ll do, mate. She likes it tight.” Ron’s back and Hermione wants to kiss him, but she doesn’t have a clue where he is. She can tell he’s close because the voice came from nearby, but it sounds as though he’s lower down, somehow. She squeezes her hands together and then cries out when she feels the firm flick of Ron’s tongue over her clit. At the same time as Ron begins to circle Hermione’s clit slowly with the tip of his tongue, she feels Harry’s cock press into the one place she never thought she would share with anyone other than Ron.

Hermione gasps at the feeling of fullness and tries to adjust to Harry’s size, Ron’s movements in between her legs making her relax, as pleasure rushes through her. When Harry begins to move, Ron works his fingers deep inside her, continuing to flick his tongue over her clit. When it becomes too much, Hermione comes again with a shout, and she clenches around Harry and Ron.

Hermione can hear Ron stand and Harry pulls out, and then she hears Harry behind her, fisting his cock until he comes with a groan over her bare, stinging backside. She scrabbles against the table with her hands, feeling a rush of shame and wanting Ron now more than ever. He shushes her and removes the blindfold and the ropes and pulls her into his arms.

“It’s alright, love. I’ve got you.”

Hermione tries to keep herself upright, but in the end she just lets herself be held. She looks around and wonders where Harry is and Ron’s hand strokes through her hair.

“Harry.” Hermione looks up at Ron and she can see various toys next to the ropes and blindfold and Ron smells different – just like Harry. “He was never here at all, was he?”

“No, he wasn’t.” Ron kisses Hermione and cups her cheek in his hand, still keeping her close and upright. “I thought it was one of those fantasies best to play as a fantasy…I don’t much like the idea of sharing you. It’s private, what we do and I want that part of you all to myself.”

“I’m glad it was just you.” Hermione smiles, because she really is. Her mind had already been working into a frenzy trying to understand why Harry would do this and what it would mean for them all.

“I’m glad that you’re glad.” Ron kisses Hermione’s nose and grins. “You’re so lovely.”

“And you’re so soft.” Hermione laughs and kisses Ron back, letting him swing her up into his arms and carry her to bed.

* * *

“How did you do it, then?” Hermione traces lazy circles on Ron’s chest and smiles at the proud look he gives her.

“I used the Oscen spell.”

“Of course, the singing bird.” Hermione nods, and thinks about the spell. “It changes the caster’s voice, just in the way Polyjuice can change appearance.”

“Exactly. Took me ages to figure out how to cast it, and I had to practice like mad so I could do it non-verbally. I hope you appreciate the effort.” Ron looks smug and puffs his chest out, causing Hermione to smile and kiss him lightly.

“You already know I appreciate it – all of this. I’m very impressed, you must have put a lot of thought into the whole thing.” Hermione’s cheeks heat and she rubs her face against Ron’s chest, liking the way the wiry hair feels against her skin. “It felt like Harry was there – how did you manage that?”

“That was magic too.” Ron tugs at Hermione’s hair and kisses her, a proud flush on his face. “I’ve put a lot of time into it. It’s easy enough to transfigure toys, use levitation, put on a bit of different cologne, that sort of thing. With your senses being so heightened, I could make a sound by the Floo and if I told you someone had come through, you would believe it. Your own imagination does a lot of the work. You’re not disappointed it was only me, are you?”

“Not in the slightest.” And she means it, she really does.

“You know he’s seeing Malfoy now?” Ron chuckles and shakes his head. “Just in case you were interested in the real thing.”

“No, I didn’t know.” Hermione continues to trace her fingers over Ron’s chest and kisses him. “I think we’ve involved Harry in enough of our fun for one night. Why don’t we just focus on you and me?”

“Sounds bloody perfect.” Ron grins and presses Hermione onto her back. He kisses her deeply and it’s a long time before they talk about anything else at all.

* * *

When Ron falls asleep, Hermione stays awake for a while and listens to the gentle huff of his snoring. She decides to go downstairs to make herself some hot milk which she hopes might help her sleep.

While the milk heats, she remembers a time long ago, when the sky was filled with stars and two teenagers thought they were going to die. She remembers the urgency – the grappling hands and the desperate kisses. She remembers being frightened of death and how, in one moment, everything changed.

Hermione picks up the robes Ron had worn that night, draped casually over the chair, and she thinks about secrets and lies.

She runs her hand over the thick material and notices the scent of cologne which isn’t Ron’s, but which is nevertheless achingly familiar.

She lifts the robes to her face, and breathes.

~Fin~