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Chapter 1: Logistics

Author's Notes:

My first piece of fan fiction, written for my dear friend Quizzical's birthday. Happy birthday darling!

Thanks heaps to my beta ministrychick for her wonderful help and support.

There they were; his two best friends. They were sprawled together on the other side of the couch, sharing a box of something chocolaty and bickering, as usual. Harry almost turned around, not wanting to interrupt their moment. But he knew that if he did that he’d just be moping in his room, and they both hated him moping. So he wandered over and flopped down on an armchair. He figured he should come straight out with the reason for his long face.

“Ginny got sick of waiting. She told me it’s over.”

“Oh Harry,” came the comforting words from Hermione.

“And to bugger off back to the Dursleys before she bat-bogeyed my arse.” Harry laughed weakly as he remembered Ginny’s idle threat.

“You ok mate?” asked Ron, and there was something of a hesitation in his voice.

Harry looked up at the concerned faces. As he looked from one to the other he saw how focussed they were on him, how genuinely worried they both were. Suddenly, inexplicably, he felt something warm. It reminded him of that monster in his gut that used to creep out whenever he saw Ginny back in 6th Year.  Whatever it was, it felt good, and Harry decided to trust it.

“Um… yeah, I’m okay.” The warmth only increased. “Somehow, I really don’t think I mind at all. I feel… um…” Harry shrugged.

Motivated, perhaps, by that odd warmth, or by the inviting looks of concern directed at him, Harry stood and moved to where Ron and Hermione were sitting on the floor against the couch. They shuffled apart and Harry sat down in the space between them saying “thanks guys.”

Ron’s hand moved to rest on Harry’s thigh, patting him gently in unspoken comfort. The moment Ron did it he saw that Hermione had done the same thing on Harry’s other side. Harry watched as their eyes met across him, and then turned to meet his gaze.

Those eyes. Two pairs of eyes that he’d looked at a hundred times a day for almost ten years. One pair blue, with freckles; laughing eyes, familiar and so comfortable. The other pair brown, with mousy wisps of hair hanging down; thinking eyes, revealing the amazing mind behind them.

As Harry looked into those eyes he felt a hand again, moving gently upwards on his thigh. He jumped; this surely couldn’t be right. What was that? He’d imagined something for a moment there, it felt like… like friendship and love and warmth and something much more… too much more perhaps.

He stood up and stepped away, confused by the expressions on Ron and Hermione’s faces. Maybe they’d been playing some kind of game, or maybe they were drunk. Maybe…

“Maybe we should grab a drink or something mate?”

“You two sit down. I’ll make something.” Hermione headed into the kitchen, licking her lips and glancing between Ron and Harry as she disappeared past the door.


Ron’s gaze paused on the empty doorway for a moment before turning back onto Harry’s flushed face. He couldn’t read the expression in those spectacular green eyes. He ran his hand through his hair and breathed out slowly.

“So do you want to sit down?”

“Uh, no. No, I’m right.” The answer came quickly but Ron wasn’t convinced. Now Harry had that famous evasive look that was supposed to convince people he didn’t need them. What it really meant was that he needed them more than ever.

“Don’t believe you.”

“Well, I dunno.” Harry was looking at the floor and carrying on with the I’m fine act. “I’m sorry, that was weird. I didn’t mean to look at Hermione like – “

By the time he looked up Ron was already right in front of him. He registered the slight shock on Harry’s face and grabbed his hand before he could jump away.

“I don’t think it was weird at all mate.” Ron said, keeping his eyes on Harry’s. “And I’m pretty sure you were looking at me the same way you were looking at Hermione.”

There was a strange pause as Harry just opened his mouth, staring into Ron’s eyes. It looked as though a hundred thoughts crossed Harry’s mind before he settled on something that looked like hope. Ron saw his opportunity and stepped even closer, allowing his other hand to rest gently at the back of Harry’s hip.

“I liked it. That look.”

“Y-yeah?” breathed Harry. As he inched closer, Ron felt his hand being brushed hesitantly by gentle fingers and he responded, tightening his grip on Harry’s hand and hip.

“Hermione liked it too.” Ron could hardly speak now, with Harry staring so intently into his eyes. He could feel warm breath against his chin.

Just when Ron thought he couldn’t stand it any longer, that he would have to either break away or kiss him now, Harry moved. It was hesitant at first, a gentle nose and lips brushing against Ron’s cheek, moving around, exploring, like a hurt creature finding his way home. Ron closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Harry’s hair and skin, moving both hands to trace through the messy black hair, slowly across his neck and down to his waist.

As Ron felt a soft kiss underneath his ear, he opened his eyes to see Hermione standing in the kitchen doorway, watching them, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip. She smiled a wishful smile and said “You didn’t sit down.”

Harry heard the voice and looked up too. He smiled and held an arm out toward Hermione.


Hermione had never pondered the logistics of kissing two men at once; the thought had never occurred to her. Right now, though, it suddenly seemed the most natural, wonderful idea in the world. Harry’s tongue was in her mouth and Ron’s soft lips were tracing down her neck. There was a warm hardness against her hip, and as she returned the kisses, she realised what this meant… two kisses at once, two boys; hers.

The thought sent her heart racing and her head spinning with possibilities. Her boys must have read her mind, because suddenly there were two hands cradling her face; the familiar one, tanned and freckly, and the other, soft and pale and beautiful. As Hermione returned the touch to Harry’s face, catching a glimpse of pure desire in those deep green eyes, her tongue reached out to the freckled hand, licking the length of a finger and drawing a gasp of longing from its owner.

That gasp was stifled, though, by a kiss from Harry. She watched as he covered Ron’s lips with his own, sucking and almost biting at that wonderfully soft top lip. As Ron’s tongue responded, flicking out to stroke Harry’s, Hermione leaned in towards Ron’s ear. She nibbled and licked, and her hand moved down Harry’s neck, caressing tenderly past his chest and around to his behind. At the same time, she reached down to grab Ron, and pulled them both closer to herself. She grinned as they were startled away from their kiss, their breathing heavy and their eyes glazed.

“What?” gasped Ron.

“You’re beautiful. You two. Beautiful.”

Harry was still holding Ron, mouth open, and running a hand along Hermione’s arm.

“We can sit down, now, if you like…” he whispered, but Hermione just shook her head, thinking of something she’d much rather do. And again, Ron read her mind.

“We, uh, we have a pretty big bed…”

But neither boy seemed to be able to bring himself to move, so Hermione turned, keeping her hands firmly around the waists of her two boys, and led them, aching with anticipation, into the bedroom.


Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

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