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Hogwarts X Press or How Ronald B Weasley Learnt a Valuable Lesson

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Ron had decided that it was inhumane to keep people on a train when it was this unseasonably hot. The Hogwarts Express was chugging along happily, as if lazied by the oppressive warmth of the Indian summer they seemed to be having.

Ron could feel his face flushing, his t-shirt had sweat patches and jeans were sticking against his skin. He hated going red. It wasn't something Weasley's did at all well. Of course, the reason he was so hot, as much as he hated to admit it, was not perhaps the Indian summer after all.

Harry was sprawled next to him, the buttons of his shirt practically undone to his navel, the sweat making his hair, somehow, and Ron had no idea how, look rather raffish all stood up.

Across from him Hermione had her legs draped over Neville's lap, and Ron couldn't help noticing they were rather less girly and stick-like and rather more rounded and tanned than he recalled. But right now he did not need to be thinking about Hermione's legs. Short skirts were definitely some obscure form of torture. And how in all realms of good and evil and shrimp, could Neville be asleep right now?

'So I'm thinking,' Hermione was saying in that ever neat and ordered voice (apparently oblivious to the fact her bra strap had slid off her shoulder, Ron noted), 'that things should probably go pretty smoothly at the start of the term until Voldemort - don't jump Ron - or whatever evil thing is going to try and kill you this year Harry, kicks in a bit before Christmas.'

Harry snorted and raised an eyebrow at Ron, who duly noted that a bead of sweat was caught in the hollow between Harry's collarbones.

'So, I've drawn up some revision and study schedules that I want you both to look over – don't frown Ron,' Hermione continued, smiling pleasantly as if she were speaking about unicorns, or sugar quills, or possibly the way she smelled right after a shower, 'so that if something, you know, apocalyptic does happen, your study won't suffer.'

Harry laughed and sat up straighter making his shirt fall open.

'Ah my dear Hermione, who needs to fear death when we've got failing to worry about,' Harry said agreeably.

Ron made a mental note to ask Harry what kind of Quidditch training he'd been doing. Ron's stomach muscles definitely did not look like that.

'Yes. Well,' Hermione coughed, 'I'm just thinking about your futures.' Her eyes strayed to Ron. 'Erm. Ron, you okay?'

Ron spluttered, mind desperately trying to figure out what to say that didn't involve how fucking turned on he was.

'Uh – just hot.'

Hermione shrugged and absentmindedly, or so it seemed to Ron, wiped away some sweat that had been prickling delicately on her chest.

Ron concentrated very hard on breathing.

'Mmm. I'm bored. We don't have to go up to the prefects meeting for a bit yet,' Hermione said, fanning herself fastidiously, 'anyone wanna play cards?'

Harry leaned back again looking rather pleased with himself for some odd reason or other. Probably thinking about Quidditch.

'So. Hermione. D'you think Ron has ever heard of 'Suck and Blow'?' Harry said casually, green eyes shimmering behind his glasses.

Okay. Maybe not Quidditch, then.

Hermione grinned at him.

'Ron?' she said sweetly.

Well this was certainly an unsettling development. He tried to think what exactly 'suck and blow' might mean. He was having a fair few ideas right now, mostly along the lines of, well, porn, but none of which he was prepared to share with his friends.

Harry had produced a pack of cards...Ron watched carefully...maybe it was just a simple card trick...or perhaps not...Harry was putting one card up to his mouth...and...holy Merlin in a lake...Hermione was leaning over and he could see down her top...and mother of Mary and all the kings in Britain...Hermione seemed to be attaching her lips to the other side of the card...

Ron concentrated very hard on not fainting.

Maybe this was a chapter in Hogwarts: A History that he'd missed. You know, like, "How To Best Past Time on the Hogwarts Express. A Discussion. With Examples". Ron then realised he'd never actually read Hogwarts: A History.

'Um...?' he heard himself say.

'Come on then mate, pass the bloody card – Hermione's gonna go blue in the face soon!'

So Ron leaned over, impossibly close to Hermione who was all sweaty, which a few years ago would have been gross but now – not so much – that and the fact he could see straight down her top (white bra, blue lace, at least a C-cup)...his lips connected with the smooth cool surface of the card then –

Something far softer. And wetter. And...yup. The card dropped to the floor and Ron's brain dropped into his cock. Those were Hermione's lips under his.

From the black pool of hormones Ron heard someone laughing. It was Harry. Ron decided Harry had to die.

Opening his eyes (when had he closed them?) he saw a very flushed Hermione whose mouth was nonetheless quirked into that know-it-all grin.

Harry, still sat in the corner of the carriage, was clutching at his stomach.

Really. Ron didn't think it was nearly that funny.

'Oh bloody shut up you moron – so I dropped the card playing your stupid perverted game – ha ha –– very funny – ' Ron broke off when he realised that Hermione too was giggling.

He raised his eyebrows trying to work out exactly what was going on.

Hermione had picked up another card off the pack and Harry had gotten up to face her. This time as Harry leaned forward he slipped a hand around her waist pulling her flush against him as he sucked the card off her lips.

He turned to Ron who gulped. Harry raised an eyebrow over the rim of his glasses as if somehow to warn Ron what was coming. Then he stepped forward, slid his hands into Ron's back pockets and brought the card onto Ron's lips.

The action in turn, Ron discovered, caused other areas of their bodies to connect...which made Ron's ears turn red and furthermore, (just like some twisted arithmantic chain of cause and effect Ron's mind, currently in the vicinity of his navel, thought) made him drop the card.

Harry's lips were harder than Hermione's, and Ron could feel Harry's tongue almost straight away. He opened his mouth under the pressure and felt Harry let out a triumphant noise as the hands he still had in his pockets drew Ron's groin painfully close.

'Good game, isn't it?' came Hermione's voice dryly.

Ron struggled to come up with something coherent. This was hard a) because his brain had turned to pumpkin juice and b) 'cause Harry's tongue was stuck down his throat.

Again, Hermione spoke, well, purred really, Ron decided.

'Harry. Be a good boy and share.'

Before Ron had time to completely comprehend the full implications of the statement (or any implications really) he felt a cool hand slide over his chest and somehow Hermione managed to work her way into the space between him and Harry. It was a trio-sandwich. Maybe, his brain offered, clearly affected now by heatstroke, it's a trandwich? Or triwitch? Ron couldn't believe he just thought that while his two best friends were practically snogging him to death.

Well, there's a new development, Ron noted as something white flew over his shoulder in the direction of the door. No shirt. Just lace and ... well...his best friend's breasts. And now...his best friends breasts with his other breast...whoops...best friend's hands on them.

He was never going to forgive them. Or let them leave the carriage.

'Um. Um...?'

No! Why in all that is good, proper and right are words coming out of your mouth Ronald Bilius Weasley?!

'Oh don't worry Ron. We've only been mucking around a bit. Nothing serious,' Hermione whispered onto his lips.

'Not long mate; things were a bit boring sometimes this summer for Hermione. So we spent a bit of time in the library,' Harry said mouth near Hermione's collarbone.

'Library?' Ron squeaked.

Hermione smiled impishly; 'I always told you the library was educational.'

Hermione sild her arms around his neck and kissed him harder than he ever thought girls could kiss. And it was bloody brilliant. But then she stopped.

'Well, better be putting our robes on,' her business like tone returning with ease. 'Ron, we should go and patrol the train for a bit and – accio shirt – we've got to be ready to help get the first years on the boats and Harry, you ought to wake Neville –'

'But...ahhh...wha...' Ron discovered complete sentences and indeed, complete words, were far more difficult than he'd previously been led to believe.

Harry winked at him. 'It's okay mate, just a bit of teaser really. I mean the sorting, the great feast, getting the first years to sleep...all that won't take that long.'

Ron looked back and forth between his friends smirking faces. Then Hermione came very close, so close, Ron thought, she might be ready to forgo the tradition of having the prefects, well, be bossy. Of course, he had underestimated her respect for the rules.

Hermione leant forward, and Ron felt her lips brush across his earlobe. He blushed. Then her hand snaked beneath his belt to where his jeans were sitting at a less than regular angle. He blushed more.

'Just as well we're changing into robes, isn't it?' She said before sweeping, imperious as always, out the cabin door.

Ron looked over at Harry, eyes wide, mouth gaping like a fish, open and closed, and open again. He was quite sure he'd just stumbled into a strange dimension in which everyone acted like a porn star. And to tell you the truth, it wasn't that he disliked it...it was just...a little odd.

And a bit stickier than usual.

'Ron. You okay?' Harry said, looking completely unfazed, robe on, face calm and set carefully as always.

Ron finally found his temper: 'You – what – she – YOU!'

'Calm down, calm down, she's never going to shag you if you keep up that boiled beetroot look,' Harry giggled, muttering a quick spell to bring Neville out of what Ron now realised was a less than natural afternoon nap.

Neville snorted a little and rubbed his eyes blearily, 'Miss anything?'

Ron gave Harry a good and proper stink eye (metaphorically as it was a very difficult spell) before throwing his robes on, desperate to press his face against a window, or a cool glass of water, or Hermione's back, actually disregard the last, he was aiming for something cool.

Heading for the door Ron looked back at Harry who winked and waved his watch in the air.

Ron tried to find some words, but found that the faculty of speech had not yet properly returned. In fact, he wasn't sure it ever would.

However, he was quite certain that some parts of his body at least were responding very proficiently.