A/N: I wrote a much smaller version of this fic close to a year ago, and decided to expand on it.

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, objects, and places belong to J.K. Rowling, not me. I am not making any profit.


It's been floating around in his mind for months, the idea steadily gaining appeal, when he first suggests it. Ron and Hermione both stare at him like he's crazy, eyes wide and mouths agape. He smiles nervously at them, wishing he could take it back. The silence stretches on, and Harry can feel his face heating up. It seemed so natural to him, the three of them together, but then, he's had time to come to terms (want) with it. He's quick to backpedal, looking down at his feet as he sucks in a breath.

"Forget it, I don't know what I was thinking." They drop the subject happily and the matter is forgotten (not really). It lingers in the back of their minds for days, burning a hole in both their subconscious's. For her, the idea is intriguing. It's uncharted territory, that's for sure, but somehow it makes sense. She knows that something isn't quite right between her and Ron, and maybe this is it.

Ron has a harder time with the idea. His first reaction is outrage, borderline hysteria. His mind is racing with ideas, trying to compensate for Harry's complete and (hopefully) temporary lapse in sanity. Loneliness, that had to be it, Harry was just really lonely, and seeing him and Hermione together was making it worse. Harry wasn't gay, and Ron knew that he certainly wasn't gay, it was just a crazy (stupid) idea.

When she brings it up, weeks later, Harry smiles indulgently and they both look at Ron expectantly. He splutters indignantly, trying to think of the words to say. When none come, Hermione begins talking about work, and things go back to normal (for the most part). Now that he's had time to think about it, now that it's been mentioned twice, Ron can't get it out of his head. All of the sudden, it doesn't seem so crazy. It may have taken him awhile, but Ron knows that something is missing in his (their) life.

It's Friday night, and they are sitting at the kitchen table, eating dinner in companionable silence. The air has been charged with electricity the past few weeks, and every once and a while (right now), it comes to a head. They all stop when they feel it, Harry and Hermione exchanging glances.

"Yes." Ron says suddenly. They both know exactly what he's talking about, and the three smile at each other. The rest of dinner is a rushed affair, all clanking silverware and slurping drinks. Instead of the cook sitting out while the other two clean, the three friends rush through the cleanup together, anxious excitement coursing through them.

Once they finish the dishes, they instinctively climb the stairs to Harry's bedroom. The three sit in awkward silence for a moment before Hermione laughs quietly, and leans in to kiss Harry. From then on, there is no stopping them, they become a tangle of limbs and a pile of clothes forms at the end of the bed. It's surprising how easily the three of them fit together, but then again maybe it's not so surprising after all. It's always been the three of them (together), no one else ever understood, and now they know why.

As they begin to fall asleep, the boys wrapped around their girl, sleepy smiles form on their faces. Hermione wonders why they didn't do this sooner, it seems so obvious now. She and Ron never fit together perfectly, not without Harry. Her heart swells at the thought of living the rest of their lives like this, blissfully together. Lying in Harry's bed with both boys cuddled up next to her, she smiles, knowing that the puzzle is complete (finally).


Please R&R!