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fic & art about the one big happy family
Games People Play (In The Middle Of The Night) (Ron/Harry/Hermione, NC-17) 
13th-Mar-2013 04:45 am
Weasley is my King //Mina
Title: Games People Play (In The Middle Of The Night)
Author: ragdoll
Characters/Pairing: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley/Harry Potter
Word Count: ~3700
Rating: NC-17
Warning: threesome, polyamoury, non-penetrative sex
Notes: Written for hp_3somes 3some Fest.

Full disclosure: As much as I enjoy reading Trio-fic, I'd never actually put these three together before so it was a terrific challenge. (It also forced me to re-read Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows which was actually a good thing!)

As always, thanks to sdkshelly for all her help and cheerleading.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: Ron had a plan to get Harry and Hermione to forgive him for leaving them on their Horcrux hunt. Perhaps it wasn't a cunning plan, or a brilliant scheme, but it was a plan nonetheless. Now he just had to implement it...

Ron had a plan. Perhaps it wasn't a cunning plan, or a brilliant scheme, but it was a plan nonetheless. He was thrilled to be together again with Harry and Hermione after so many weeks of misery, but while he was happy to be back on the road, his friends seemed to be miserable. He knew Hermione was still seriously hacked off at him for leaving, spending most of her time with her nose buried in books, but Harry had been unhappy ever since he'd come to the conclusion that the Dark Lord was looking for the Deathly Hallows. Ron wasn't certain Harry was right – although he wasn't certain Harry was wrong either – but Harry had become sullen and withdrawn ever since they'd returned after the mess at Xenophilius Lovegood's house.

And that made Ron unhappy too.

There had been enough unhappiness, animosity and rowing before he'd left – and his time away had taught Ron that he needed his friends more than he'd ever been able to admit before. He now knew they needed him as well. "We want you," Harry had said, making Ron's heart skip a beat, and his pulse start to race. The awareness that Harry and Hermione hadn't wanted to be without him had made all that Ron had endured, all the suffering worthwhile.

This hadn't quite been the homecoming Ron had expected. Or at least, had dreamt about. He'd had a lot of time on his hands while staying at Shell Cottage. His brother and his sister-in-law were newlyweds, so it only stood to reason that they wanted their privacy whenever possible. It wasn't difficult to suss out what they were up to (especially when they were hardly quiet about), and so Ron had entertained himself in a similar – albeit solo – fashion.

Most of his fantasies focused on long bouts of mad, passionate lovemaking with either Harry or Hermione, or both. In his fantasies, they'd both welcomed him with open arms (and open legs), letting him know just how much they'd missed him. Now that they were all together again, Ron was more than a little embarrassed by his less than pure thoughts about his friends, especially when he had no clue whether or not his feelings were requited by either of them.

Still, he had to hope...

"Right," Ron said loudly, as the three of them huddled in their separate corners of the tent. "I've had enough of this."

"Enough of what?" Hermione shot back, barely raising her head from her copy of Beedle The Bard. Ron had learnt to be jealous of the dusty old book.

"The three of us not speaking to one another. There's too much tension," Ron replied. "I didn't come back just to have us all at odds."

"No one's at odds with you," Harry insisted. He hadn't been doing anything but his usual sulking.

"No, I didn't mean me. I just meant..." Ron pursed his lips in thought. "Well, it's the three of us, innit? We're not talking, we're not making any sort of progress, and we're not communicating, are we?"

"If you're unhappy, you can always go back home again." Hermione closed her book with a huff of frustration.

"No, I can't."

"No, he can't," Harry echoed. "It's too dangerous."

"I don't want to go home. I just want us to talk to each other. To start working together again." Ron stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans, trying his best not to fidget. This wasn't going quite as he'd imagined either. "I had an idea. Something we should try."

"Which is?" At least Hermione looked slightly less peeved, and slightly more intrigued.

"Alright, well, when I was a kid, and me and my brothers – usually Fred and George – weren't getting on, my mum made us play a game."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up somewhere into the vicinity of her hairline."A game?"

"What? Like Snakes and Ladders?" Harry blinked in confusion.

"Snakes and Ladders? I don't even know what that is," Ron said with a grimace. "No, we'd play—" he started to blush, the tips of his ears beginning to burn. "Well, she called it 'Kiss And Makeup.'"

Harry let out a snort, while Hermione stared at him, her mouth hanging open in a an O of surprise.

"And you expect us to—?" Harry started.

Ron cut him off immediately. "No, listen to me! I borrowed a bottle of Ogden's Old from Bill and—."

This time Hermione interrupted him. "Borrowed? That implies you're planning to return it at some point."

"Okay, perhaps 'liberated' is a better word. At any rate, I've got a bottle of Firewhisky in my rucksack, so I reckoned we all should have a drink or two, and sort this all out between us."

"There's nothing to sort." Hermione snapped, her jaw set stubbornly. Ron felt his heart sink just a little. "Besides, it's not safe. We have to keep our wits about us, not get drunk."

To Ron's relief, Harry smiled ever so slightly. "We've got all our security spells and protections in place, Hermione. No one's managed to find us yet. Maybe Ron's right. Maybe we do need to work things out a bit."

"I'm not saying we need to get properly stinking. Just, you know, take the edge off a little bit."

"So," Hermione asked, "what are the rules of this game?"

"It's simple," Ron explained. "We just get off our chests whatever's hacking us off, and then have to say something nice about the other person. Then we sort of kiss and make up."

"You kissed your brothers, did you?"

Ron's blush deepened. "Of course not! That would be completely disgusting."

"What about us, then?" Harry's smile had grown a little wider, now verging on a smirk. "Do we get to kiss, then?"

Doing his best to look nonchalant, Ron gave a little shrug. He hadn't exactly forgotten the twisted vision of Harry and Hermione that the Horcrux locket had shown him. "That's up to you, mate." He drew in a deep breath before adding, "That goes for Hermione as well."

Neither of them interrogated him further as he went to his rucksack and pulled out the purloined bottle of Firewhisky. It was nearly full. Ron supposed he ought to have felt guilty for nicking it from his brother's liquor cabinet without asking, but he'd reckoned he might need it far more than Bill would — for courage to face up to Harry and Hermione, or to keep himself warm while he searched for them in the cold December weather, or perhaps something even more dire. Thankfully Ron hadn't needed it for anything until now.

Hermione was kind enough to rummage through her beaded bag until she came up with three heavy glass tumblers which she placed on the table in front of them. Ron waited until she and Harry got settled before going any further. He poured the Firewhisky liberally into the tumblers, then raised his glass in salute.


Harry did the same; Hermione watched them cautiously through narrowed eyes, waiting a moment before joining in. Ron took a deep, long swallow, letting the fiery liquid course over his tongue and down his throat, savouring the burn. Harry tossed back his drink in one quick gulp while Hermione sipped hers slowly and carefully as if to avoid any repercussions from the liquor.

"Now what?" asked Harry. He wiped his lips on the back of his hand, then set his glass down.

"We tell each other the truth — why we're angry and stuff, then say why we still care about one another."

"Who goes first?" Hermione ran the tip of her finger over the top of her glass in contemplation. Ron suspected she was just desperate to have a go at him, and perhaps he deserved it.

"If you want to, you can, Hermione."

"No, not me," she protested.

"Do you want me to, then?"

She cast him a frosty look. "What grievances could you possibly need to air compared to the two of us?" Hermione indicated Harry, then herself with a wave of her hand. Ron wasn't sure if he wanted to flinch or roll his eyes, but managed to do neither.


"Hermione," Harry broke in to the conversation, his voice calm and almost indulgently patient, "Ron's got as much right to be upset with us as we have with him. None of us have behaved very well at times, even if it was due to that bloody locket. We've all got to have our turn."

She pursed her lips together tightly, looking peevish, but not arguing about it.

"Harry, why don't you go first, then?" Ron offered, then took another swig of his Firewhisky. He hoped it would brace him for the oncoming emotional upheaval.

Nodding, Harry reached for his glass and had another drink. Ron immediately refilled the now-empty glass. "Right. Hmmm." He screwed his face up in thought for a moment before continuing. "Ron, I was really hurt when you buggered off the way you did. The way you kept whinging and moaning about every little thing, and wouldn't listen when we tried to explain to you what was happening. But—" he drew in a deep breath, "now I know that a lot of it was that damned locket. And why you might have been upset with us."

A knowing look passed between them, leaving Hermione perplexed.

"Hermione, you've been pretty amazing throughout this whole thing, but sometimes — sometimes, you drive me mad. You won't listen to me about the Hallows, you're very bossy, you're too emotional, and...and, you broke my wand!"

"I'm sorry!" she wailed. "You know I didn't do it on purpose! I was trying to save our lives!"

"Yes, I know. It doesn't mean I'm not still upset about it though." Harry sighed. "Besides, you were really hard on Ron. A lot. You seem to expect him to be psychic and know how you feel about him, but you've never once told him your side of things. You can't get cross with him for not coming out and telling you that he fancies you if you haven't had the nerve to do the same. For a clever girl, you're really quite thick sometimes."

Ron's eyes widened at Harry's words, Hermione's immediate flushed cheeks and flared nostrils telling him that Harry had struck a nerve. She was looking everywhere but at Ron now, squirming in her seat.

"You both have done some incredibly stupid things," Harry continued, "but you're the best friends I've ever had in my whole life. At some points, the only friends I'd ever had. I wish I could tell you just what you both really mean to me."

"It's all right, mate. You don't have to." Ron leaned over and grasped Harry's hand in his, squeezing hard. He half-expected Harry to pull away, but instead, he lingered, the contact of skin on skin sending a frisson of excitement up Ron's spine.

Still holding Ron's hand, Harry indicated to Hermione to come closer. With his free hand, he looped his arm around her neck and drew her into a warm hug. He pressed his lips to the crown of her head, then gave Ron's hand a squeeze before letting both of them go.

"Is it my turn now?" Hermione asked.

Harry and Ron nodded in unison. Quickly, Ron poured himself another drink and steeled himself for her response.

"Right. Well," she huffed. "I am furious with you, Ron Weasley."

That was to be expected.

"You—you just walked out on us, didn't you? Ran away when the going got tough because—well, I don't know why! Do you know how terrified we were that something might've happened to you? That something horrible had happened or that we'd lost you for good?!" Her voice became progressively shriller, but her eyes were welling with tears.

"I didn't think—" Ron started, but she cut him off.

"That is quite obvious!" Before either he or Harry could stop her, Hermione had launched herself at Ron, giving him a good smack on the chest.

"Hermione, that's enough!"

She stopped at the sound of Harry's voice, turning to him instead. "And you, Harry Potter! You're obsessed with those damn Hallows when you should be focusing on hunting for Horcruxes. You're reckless, and you never think either, do you? Going off to follow that doe without telling me — what if Ron hadn't been there to save you? You might've been k-killed too!"

"But he wasn't!" Ron blurted.

"And the pair of you — always sticking up for one another like that! Typical boys!"

He had to grin at that. "Well, we are both blokes. It sort of comes with the territory."

"Of course it does," she sneered.

"If it makes you feel any better, we do actually like that you're a girl." Ron thought he heard Harry let out a faint snigger.

Hermione glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest. "I sometimes wonder if you notice at all."

"Believe me, Hermione," Harry insisted, "we notice all the time."

"In the best of all possible ways," Ron chimed in before she could say another word. She replied with a snort of annoyance, her face pinched in thought.

"I suppose," she said finally, "I ought to forgive you both now?"

Harry nodded. "That would probably be helpful."

"All right, then." Hermione flung her arms around Ron's neck, then kissed him soundly on the mouth. For an instant, he was too stunned to respond, then slowly, his whisky fuelled brain kicked in, demanding he do something before she stopped. He kissed her back, relishing the feel of her full lips against his own.

She pulled back, smiling triumphantly, then turned to Harry. "Your turn."

Harry glanced over at Ron, as if asking for permission. Ron gave him a slight nod of consent, knowing he needed to trust his friends completely. Hermione kissed Harry as well, although Ron was pretty sure it was less impassioned than her turn with himself. He could only hope.

Looking dazed, Hermione released Harry. "I forgive you both — because I love you both so much."

Ron could feel his heart beginning to pound. He tossed back another quick drink before speaking. "I know I mucked up utterly and completely. I let you both down, and I suppose I'm more angry with myself than either of you. But— look, Harry, you're really good at playing the hero and sometimes, it's bloody hard to even try to share the spotlight. I know you don't mean to be that way — but, it's easy for a guy like me to be intimidated. You made this trip sound so, I dunno, easy. I reckoned we'd be streets ahead of where we are right now. It's not really your fault, but it can be really frustrating."

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

"And as for you, Hermione — " Ron cleared his throat, trying very hard to think before he spoke, "it's like what Harry said. You seem to think that I am clairvoyant, that I know what you want, when you want it, and sometimes, well, it's not so easy to suss out, is it? I've got five older brothers, so I am not very good with girls."

She opened her mouth to argue, but he continued before she could get a word in edgeways.

"Ginny doesn't count. She's not a typical girl to start with, and it's not as if we've sat down and discussed that sort of thing. I know I've messed up a lot of things with you, but you've got to learn to be more forgiving! Or at least try to communicate better. You're brilliant and clever and beautiful — but when it comes to people skills, you're kind of pants at it."

"Oh, look who's talking!"

"I never said I was very good at it either." Ron scowled. "Look, I came back because I care about you both. I know I never should have left, but I really did try to return almost immediately. I missed you terribly while I was away...and I'm really sorry."

Hermione put her arm around him, snuggling against him, while Harry did the same on the opposite side. It felt wonderful to be in their combined embrace. Emboldened by the booze, Ron leant down and kissed Hermione very gently, then throwing all caution to the wind, turned and did the same to Harry. Ron was thrilled that Harry didn't pull away — or worse.

Ron heard Hermione giggle, then Harry start to laugh. It was infectious, and he couldn't hold back. It was if a dam had broken — the three of them laughing and kissing and touching all at once. Ron felt two distinct pairs of lips on his, two distinct pairs of hands skimming over his back and chest, two very different bodies—Hermione's softer and rounder, Harry's harder and flatter — pressing against his own.

He couldn't have been happier.

Somehow they managed to make their way to the tent's makeshift bedroom, clothing flying off behind the three of them as they went. The three of them collapsed in a giggling, gasping pile, the last vestiges of their clothes stripped off in haste. The room was chilly, but Ron felt warm and comfortable as they lay in a tangle of limbs, kissing, stroking, rubbing against one another.

Hermione's fingers trailed over his skin, her touch delicate and light; Harry did the same with larger, more calloused hands. Grabbing Hermione, Ron rolled her beneath him, his mouth closing over one pert nipple and sucking hard. Hermione moaned, arching her back and pressing her wet sex up against Ron's thigh. He was glad that she liked it — clearly his interminable time with Lavender hadn't been a total loss after all.

Meanwhile, Harry's teeth were grazing over the nape of Ron's neck, his breath hot and moist. Ron shifted as Harry settled against his back, his weight oddly comforting, his hard cock nestled in the cleft of Ron's arse.

It was Ron's turn to groan as Harry's hips beginning to pump slowly, his shaft sliding roughly along the line of Ron's buttocks. Ron moved in turn against Hermione's hip, matching his thrusts to Harry's as he continued to lave Hermione's breast, letting his tongue swirl against the pebbled flesh.

Hermione wriggled underneath him, tightening her leg around Ron's while she moved, her fingers burrowing in his hair. A string of filthy suggestions escaped her lips, and she dug her nails into his scalp, spurring Ron on to pump harder and faster.

Ron hissed in approval before turning his attention to Hermione's other breast. He bucked his arse up and back, causing Harry to moan even louder.

All three of them were writhing with abandon, moving as one. Harry was panting and gasping for air, his thrusts growing more and more erratic. "Fuck," he grunted, fighting to keep pace with Ron. "Fuck, I'm gonna...gonna come."

"Mmmm, yes, Harry—" Hermione's words broke off into a guttural cry of her own.

That seemed to be all the encouragement Harry needed. He tensed and clutched at Ron, and then there was the sensation of hot, thick spunk spurting along the line of Ron's back.

Capturing Ron's mouth with hers, Hermione kissed him hard while Harry lazily nuzzled his neck and shoulders. It only took a few more thrusts before Ron felt his control slipping away, and he too was coming in violent shudders against the curve of Hermione's hip. Dazed, he tried to keep his focus on her breasts, knowing she deserved release too.

Harry seemed to agree — Ron felt Harry work his hand between their flush bodies, and heard Hermione cry out as Harry's questing fingers reached her centre. With a few quick touches, he sent her over the edge, spiralling down into a loud, keening orgasm.

Ron had never heard a sweeter sound.

They continued on, kissing and caressing, until they all collapsed into a sticky, sweaty, sated heap. Somehow, Hermione managed to find her wand in the midst of things, Summoning blankets and pillows around them until they'd made a soft, warm nest to cuddle in. Ron lay between Harry and Hermione, one arm wrapped protectively around each of them. He kissed them in turn, marvelling at how good it felt to be with both of them once again.

Hermione let out a sigh of satisfaction, kissing Ron, then struggling to reach Harry in order to do the same. "Well, that was unexpected," she said.

"For us, maybe," Harry mused.

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione suspiciously.

"Yeah, what do you mean?" echoed Ron.

"Well, Ron was the one who wanted to play 'Kiss And Makeup'. I think he got his wish, don't you?"

Ron chuckled softly. "Might've done."

Hermione stared at him in surprise."You had this planned all along?"

"Plan? Me?" Ron tried to look as innocent as he could. "When have I ever made you or Harry do anything you didn't want to?"

"Nobody said anything about not wanting to, mate," Harry murmured, "but then again, you are the master strategist when it comes to playing chess. It's one of your greatest talents."

"I hadn't thought of that," Hermione replied, then cuddled closer to Ron, her fingertips gently brushing the crook of his neck.

Ron let out a snort. "I didn't plan it though. Not really." He stifled a yawn, a wave of contented drowsiness washing over him. "Trying to get us all to talking again, okay. But this?" He nudged them each with a bare hip. "I just hoped it might go this way."

Harry raised his head, and grinned. "If you say so."

"We should get some rest," Hermione said sleepily. "We've still got to look for more Horcruxes..."

"And Hallows," Harry added. "Don't forget the Hallows."

"Not now. We'll get it sorted in the morning." Ron silenced them both with quick kisses, then allowed himself to drift off into the best and most restful sleep he'd had in ages.
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