Title: Harmony

Rating: PG

Pairing: Harry/Ron/Hermione. Yes, a PG related threesome. I apologise. ;P

Warnings: Erm.. threesome? Oh, and drinking.

Author notes: Written for the Ronficathon on my livejournal forever ago. :)

There was no room at the inn.

The 'inn' being the Three Broomsticks, of course. Ron had recently read about the first Muggle Christmas and was recalling details of it at random intervals ever since. It was very odd.

That February day in Hogsmeade was unceasingly cold and Ron, Harry and Hermione were starting to wonder why they had ever bothered to step out of the castle in the first place. There had been no matter of importance to make the trip necessary, they had simply felt like taking an evening off of schoolwork (or rather, Harry and Ron talked Hermione into taking a break whilst they played chess).

Ron insisted they could simply squeeze in, but that idea was quickly thrown back out on the streets. Literally, as the three of them were tossed out amidst a low-pitched alarm announcing that capacity had reached its maximum. One more limb would cause the building to topple.

"I refuse to believe that's true," Ron muttered, brushing snow off as he got to his feet. "Over dramatic buildings.."

"Well, we'll obviously have to go some place else," Hermione said. "I wonder where there'd be room, though, it's just so crowded."

They quickly realised that there was, in fact, no room. They were starting to complain about thirst and warmth and both put together, when they stopped by a small teashop.

"No."

Hermione stared at Harry. "What?"

"No," he repeated in a sort of desperate tone. "I can't go in there. Not again, not after last time."

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry." Hermione left no room for discussion and she walked through the door.

Ron grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him along. "I get it, mate, I do, but I'm not staying out here for any longer, so come on." They entered Madame Puddifoot's.

The overload of pink frills was enough to make Ron miss the cold.

"Over here, I found us a spot!"

Ron and Harry reluctantly made their way through the mini-maze of small tables to where Hermione now sat.

"Are you certain that's a table?" Ron asked pointedly. "It looks more like a footstool." The small round stand looked to be barely enough room for two people, let alone the three of them.

"Look around, Ron, this is literally the only place left," Hermione scooted over to make more room, which was rather a pointless task. They ended up squished around, elbows nudging, Ron sardonically wondering how they had even managed to find three chairs.

A cupid fluttered over their heads; Harry practically dove under the table. Ron didn't bother to muffle his snicker and got a glare for his trouble.

Hermione began chattering about how ridiculous the teashop was, though it was nice and warm and because it was small, it gave off a sort of cozy feeling. She wouldn't meet either of the boys' eyes.

Ron raised an eyebrow at Harry, who shook his head wearily. It appeared that the atmosphere had caught Hermione up in its unrelenting girly-ness, which was a shame.

While they snickered at Hermione's expressions, they ordered a round of butterbeer. The warm liquid was heavenly and it seemed to taste even better than usual –

"This has more alcohol than we're used to! Did one of you sneak this by somehow?" Hermione set down her mug with a scowl and crossed her arms.

Harry rolled his eyes, said "Calm down, Hermione," took a sip and promptly coughed the cough of a person who is not expecting to find alcohol in his glass.

Ron ignored Harry's coughs and said, "How would we sneak it passed anyone? Obviously it was just a mistake."

Hermione looked skeptical but didn't press the issue. "Well, we should send them back."

"Hermione! We aren't prefects here. And it's barely anything, let's just enjoy ourselves."

Hermione tutted and began to say that that was not the point, but didn't get very far before Harry interrupted.

"Oh, shut it, the both of you." He scowled at them as he gulped the drink. Harry apparently had yet to relax in the shop; his eyes darted around the room as if he were expecting Death Eaters to burst in at any moment. A bit of confetti landed on his glasses and he swiped it away. "I hate this place."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance. Ron had a brief thought that Harry was rather attractive when he was angry, and then he nearly choked on a sip. Where had that thought come from?

"Sorry, Harry. It's fine," Hermione said soothingly. She patted his hand and there was a moment when her eyes met Harry's and they both turned a slight shade of red before she drew her hand away. Ron was inexplicably irritated.

Even so, he managed to think Hermione was nearly adorable when embarrassed.

It must be the cupids.. They're giving me these thoughts..

"Thoughts, Ron?"

Ron started. "Oh. Had I said that out loud?" Perhaps it was the drink as well, he thought, silently this time, studying the golden liquid as if it would answer him directly.

Harry snickered. "Yes, so what are these thoughts of yours?"

There was no way Ron would admit to what he was thinking. No way.

"Nothing, really. You're both quite nice-looking, that's all, and so I was wondering whether those little cherubs were influencing me, but it seems to be the alcohol instead and why am I actually saying all of this?" Bugger.

Two pairs of eyes blinked back at him. Ron felt a blush begin to creep across his face and he entertained the idea of simply jumping up and running away like a madman. Harry shifted in his seat. Hermione giggled.

"I just - I was just thinking the same thing!" she said with a sort of glee. Her laughter continued, and Ron thought she looked very beautiful like that. She must have been just as affected as he was.

"You were?" Harry looked slightly uncomfortable. Hermione calmed herself a bit and nodded, then shook her head in the negative.

"Well, not quite the same. I was sort of.. sort of thinking about-about.. You know what?" She leaned forward conspiringly, seemingly changing the subject mid-word. "I couldn't ever imagine dating either of you. Well, not one of you, anyway." She grabbed her mug. "This really is quite good. Quite." She giggled at the word.

Ron thought she had never giggled more in all the years he'd known her. He peered into his mug again. Just how strong was this stuff?

"'One'?" he repeated. "What, you'd want to date us both at the same time?" He and Harry chuckled at the idea, but Hermione's eyes widened.

"Oh, can I?" She sounded very eager indeed.

It was a mark of how the butterbeer was getting to them, for instead of dismissing the idea as completely loony, the boys began to seriously discuss it.

"You mean.. we'd sort of share you?" Harry asked, wincing at how that sounded. Ron was amused at the idea of Hermione ever willingly letting herself be shared by anyone, it was so bizarre.

Sure enough, she rolled her eyes and explained, "No, no, there'd be none of that. Ever." A well-timed glare. "No, why can't it be.. Why can't it be the three of us? It's always the three of us," she sighed sort of dreamily, which was usually reserved for her favourite books.

Ron nearly knocked over his mug in his wide-eyed terror. Harry seemed to become catatonic.

"Come on, you two. Ron, you just said Harry was attractive." Hermione launched into Logical Lecture Mode.

"Nice-looking! I said he was nice.. looking.." Ron trailed off, eyes darting nervously to Harry.

"And Harry, remember the Second Task? Is this really such a shock?"

Why was she so calm about this? Would she be this way when she wasn't gulping down a full butterbeer? Was it such a shock? Ron's thoughts were jumbled together and he may have had trouble breathing correctly at that point, but the nice thing about alcohol was that it saved you the problem of second-guessing your decisions.

Ron felt Harry's knee against his, under that insanely small table, and he decided.

Harry seemed to have come to the same conclusion at the same moment: they nodded to Hermione in unison.

Hermione smiled serenely and took Ron's hand in her right, Harry's in her left. She slowly brought her hands together before her. And just like that, Ron and Harry's were intertwined together.

They stared at each other. Ron wanted to look away, but at the same time, he really didn't. Then Hermione entered his line of vision, blurring as she leaned closer. All went black as he closed his eyes instinctively, a soft pressure against his mouth.

He was kissing Hermione for the first time. His own mind wouldn't even admit it but he had waited for, wanted this moment for ages.

And his hand was still clasped in Harry's, palms growing damp as they gripped tighter. Hermione pulled away, stumbling slightly in her seat, and glanced at their hands. She smiled and placed her own fingers on theirs. Her smile seemed to brighten and soften at the same time, if it was possible for smiles to do so.

Harry inched closer to her, not that there had been more than inches to begin with. Ron watched as his best friends kissed before him, a ghost of a kiss really, and felt no jealousy, no anger. He had both their hands on his and knew he would never be left out. None of them would ever be.

Harry and Hermione separated and Hermione smiled encouragingly. Right, Ron thought. This was it.

He stared into green eyes, unmoving. Finally, it seemed Hermione lost her patience, because she gave Harry a push.

Ron caught him before he landed in his lap, thankfully. Now they were closer, much closer, and after another moment of staring Ron figured it couldn't be that different after all, and went for it.

Warm, dry lips that didn't stay dry for very long, against his. It was good.

They pulled away, smiling at each other in a way that was pure bashful boy. Hermione sniffled, apparently overcome with joy. Ron rolled his eyes playfully at her, but quickly, his mouth sought hers again. Their kisses were different, but in a way that was just right, because somehow he knew his own kiss was the missing piece between them.

Hermione's lips parted under his, he could feel her soft breath mixing with his own. Then he nearly bit off her tongue as he jumped from the sudden feel of another mouth on his neck.

A wave of arousal swept over him. He twisted around and met Harry's eyes, he seemed just a bit unsure of his boldness, and Ron took care of that quickly as he leaned forward to kiss him again.

Ron felt Harry's tongue against his bottom lip and Hermione's hand through his hair and he had never felt this good before--

"I beg your pardon!" A shrill voice behind them was their first clue that they'd been spotted, and that their show was unappreciated.

Madame Puddifoot herself stood, looking utterly horrified at the threesome, her rather large frame bumping into half of another couple. The boy glared at her before returning to his groping partner.

"Mad-Madame, we can - I can explain!" Hermione began, appearing to be quite horrified as well. Ron vaguely wondered if the liquor was already wearing off.

Madame Puddifoot had none of it: "I will not sit idly by while you – you - miscreants defile my respected place of business!"

Ron, Harry and Hermione exchanged looks of disbelief. Was she unable to see that every single person in the room was involved in activities that would be surely rated 18? She was obviously focusing on them because of the number of people in their group.

"Out! Out, now!" Puddifoot fairly shrieked. Ron muttered that she was ruining the mood for them all, Harry snickered, and Hermione grabbed their arms and stood. They shuffled out a bit too slowly, trying to retain their balance and ignore the various stares around them.

Outside, it was just as cold as ever.

Without a word, Ron, Harry and Hermione huddled together as they walked, in no hurry to find shelter. They could make their own warmth.

End.