A/N: My apologies for the het sex in this one, but I really, really wanted to do one with Ron and Hermione. No worries, Harry and Draco are in this too.
I realise we're a long way from May, and I also know most Beltane celebrations are on April 30, not May 1. But if you get the reference, then you will understand why I did it this way and you won't complain. :)
There are probably three more chapters after this, all planned but not yet written.
First of May
Harry sat on the grass as far away from the bonfire as he could convince his friends to go. Somehow, Hermione had gotten the idea that he needed some fun in his life, and she and Ron had dragged him to a public wedding and Beltane celebration. He'd rolled his eyes; there wasn't anything that sounded fun about sitting through Muggle Neopagans acting out their version of ancient 'magic' rituals. Yet there he was, watching the festivities.
It was long into the evening, and the ceremonial portion of the night was over. For the most part, they were surrounded by semi-drunk—or entirely drunk—revelers laughing and fighting and snogging. Even Ron and Hermione were getting in on the spirit of things. Harry glanced at his friends and huffed quietly.
"Would the pair of you mind terribly taking that elsewhere? I'm trying to relax here," he groused.
"Hm?" Ron asked, pausing long enough to make eye contact before returning his mouth to his wife's.
"I said, I don't need to see it, thanks!" Harry snapped. "Merlin. You'd think the pair of you were Hogwarts sixth years instead of adults with grown children."
"Oh. Erm. Right." Ron nudged Hermione. "Let's find somewhere more private."
She giggled, and Harry scrunched his nose. He'd never been fond of Hermione when she'd had too much to drink, rare though the occasion was. Ron stood and pulled her to her feet, and they escaped among the trees. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
Of course, that still left him with nothing to do but sit staring into the fire and brooding. He checked his pocket watch and smiled wickedly, pleasantly surprised to discover how late it was. Time to go find his way to another part of the festival. He rose and set off in search of the one person who might redeem the evening.
Ron wasn't so tipsy he couldn't cast a few good spells. He added a cushioning charm to an already soft, mossy clearing between the trees and spread down the blanket they'd brought. He arranged himself on it and patted the space next to him. Hermione sank down and stretched out beside him.
He kissed her softly, intent on making this special. He knew she was feeling her age lately, suffering the pangs of an empty nest. Hugo had followed in his uncle's footsteps and was in training to work with Dragons in Romania, which meant he'd taken off the moment he'd left school. It had been nearly a year, and she missed her younger child terribly. He'd already confirmed he wouldn't be home again until Rose's wedding in August.
This night had been Ron's idea, a way to do something to take her mind off her troubles. He'd been a bit annoyed with her at first for inviting Harry along. After all, he seemed perfectly happy these days—unusually so, in fact. Hermione had insisted, however, and he'd agreed in hopes that Harry would make himself scarce and let them have their night.
Unfortunately, Harry had chosen to be exactly as miserable as Hermione had imagined him to be, and he'd stuck with them all evening. Aiming to make him too embarrassed to stay, Ron had plied Hermione with good wine and a bit of light groping. It hadn't worked quite as planned—instead of Harry leaving, he'd insisted the others find a different spot. It didn't matter; Ron had Hermione's undivided attention now.
He kissed her again, drawing it out and nipping at her lower lip. She opened up for him, and he slid his tongue against hers. Slowly, he moved his hand from her shoulder to cup her breast. She hummed and pressed into him. He teased a little, slipping his fingers just under the hem of her shirt. He wanted to make it last as long as possible.
They continued to explore each other, their senses full of the beautiful, starry night—the cool breeze on their rapidly heating skin, the soft moss beneath them, the scent of the earth and the sky and the trees all around them. For a few glorious moments, everything else was lost in the joy of rediscovering each other.
There was a faint rustle amongst the shrubbery, and Hermione paused mid-kiss to listen. Ron ignored it and trailed a path to her ear, nibbling on the lobe. She shook him off.
"Shh!" she hissed.
They sat very still. When a minute or two passed without incident, Ron shrugged and resumed what he'd been doing. A few seconds later, there was another rustle. This time, Hermione shoved at Ron's chest.
"Stop," she muttered. "There!" she whispered when another noise emanated from a short distance away.
For several tense moments, they lay there, listening. They were rewarded with a faint moan. Hermione giggled; Ron groaned quietly.
"Why can't we just have some peace?" he whined.
"Because lots of other couples want to go Beltaning too. Come on, don't worry about it."
Ron arched an eyebrow at her. She must really be tipsy if she didn't care about having their semi-public sex overheard by the nearby couple. He frowned. "Why are you so casual about this?"
She smiled indulgently. "I did some reading before we came. I knew what to expect, or I wouldn't have let you lead me out here."
"Oh." Ron shrugged. "Want me to cast a Muffliato at least?"
"You can't!" she declared. "This is Muggle space. You'd have to Obliviate them." She tilted her head towards the other couple. "All part of the experience, I suppose," she said.
Before they could continue their conversation, the rustling and moaning increased slightly in volume. A second voice joined in, and Ron's eyes widened. "Oh, Merlin!"
Hermione narrowed her eyes and craned her neck, straining to hear. "Ohhh," she breathed. "That's…hot."
"Hermione!" Ron choked out. "That's—that's—it's two blokes!"
Her face coloured. "Er. I realise that."
Ron's jaw dropped. "You like hearing two men going at it?"
"Not exactly." Her flush deepened just as one of the men let out a series of very loud groans.
"Then what?"
"Well, I've never actually heard two men having sex before," she confessed. "But I've read those Auror romances…" her voice trailed off.
Ron wasn't sure how to react to Hermione's admission; words failed him. He shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around it. At last he said, "You do know I used to be an Auror. And Harry still is. Wait…is that why you like them? Oh, gods. Were you fantasising about us together?"
"No!" she said. "Of course not. Erm. I may have given one to Harry after he and Ginny divorced. And I may have…readitmyselffirst." She stared off into the trees.
Ron flopped onto his back and looked over at Hermione, processing. "Well," he said, "we may as well take advantage of the moment." He rolled onto his side and kissed her cheek.
"Really?" she squeaked.
"Yes, much as I may regret this later."
They resumed their kissing, the sounds of the other pair fading into the background. That is, until they were brought sharply into focus again. Just as Ron had Hermione's blouse off and his hand on her breast, the other pair stepped things up a notch.
"Oh, yeah. Right there. Ungh."
Ron froze, incapable of continuing. Hermione elbowed him, and he looked down at her. Hair spread around her, face flushed, half undressed as she was, it struck him that she was as beautiful as the day he'd fallen in love with her. He decided the 'magic' of the evening combined with the wine was making him sappy. He closed his eyes and concentrated on making her feel good.
It was awfully hard to pay attention, however. The pair in the shrubbery were now making nearly constant noise.
"Oh, gods. Yes."
"You like that?"
"Ah…ah…yeah…"
"Shit, I'm so ready. I need you to fuck me."
Ron was positive his face must be tomato red, and it wasn't from all the foreplay. At least, not his own. He rested his forehead on Hermione's shoulder.
"I can't do this," he whined.
"Please," she begged. "I'm so turned on right now. I need you." She ran her hands over his bare chest and down to his trousers, unfastening them.
"Aaaaah!" moaned one of the other men.
Heaving a great sigh, Ron made his best effort to return to what he'd been doing. Hermione sat up slightly and shed her bra then lay back down. She hummed with pleasure as Ron's lips brushed her exposed nipple. Wriggling a little to get closer to him, she ran her nails up and down his back. He shivered. He'd never been able to resist that. Drawing her nipple into his mouth, he sucked lightly while his hands wandered down between her legs. He slipped his fingers up underneath her skirt and rubbed her over the top of her knickers.
She sucked in her breath and let it out in a sensual, breathy moan. Seeing her like that, so free, so aroused, had him taking renewed interest in their activities. He pulled back long enough to shed his trousers while she pulled off the rest of her clothes. The moonlight made her skin glow, and she smiled up at him.
Beside them, the other couple were no longer speaking, but they hadn't ceased their erotic sounds. Ron heard both of them panting and grunting, along with the sounds of their skin slapping together. Damn it if Hermione wasn't right—it was hot. They were obviously so lost in their own pleasure they couldn't help it. Ron groaned softly, and Hermione tugged him down to her.
Their lips met. Everything became hands and mouths and heat, kissing and touching everywhere they could reach. They undulated their bodies against each other, the sensations driving Ron mad with want. He tangled his finger's in Hermione's hair and panted into her mouth. She shifted, pressing on his chest so he would roll onto his back. He obliged her, and she straddled him. Slowly, she eased herself down onto him, and he arched up at the sensation of being inside her. She remained still for only a moment before she began to move.
She rocked gently at first, then increased her pace. He bucked up into her, tipping his head back and squeezing his eyes shut as aching need built. Vaguely, he heard the other couple still going. It sounded like they were on the edge of orgasm, their drawn-out moans reaching desperate pitch. Just as one of the other men uttered a string of profanity and a sustained groan, Ron thrust hard upwards, causing Hermione to gasp. With a cry, he let go, gripping her hips to steady himself as the rush of his climax tore through him.
Breathing hard, he opened his eyes. Hermione was still rocking slightly. When Ron looked up at her, she extracted herself and flopped down next to him. She pulled him in for another kiss. Slipping his fingers down between her folds, he made slow circles, causing her to press against his hand. Her breath came in ragged gasps.
One of the other men moaned loudly. "Oh, gods. I'm gonna come. I'm gonna fucking come. Yeah…faster…yeah…oh, fuck!"
Hermione's face contorted and her whole body shook with the force of her orgasm. Ron continued gently stroking her through it until she relaxed back onto the blanket, a contented smile on her face. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head. They lay that way for long time, and Ron realised the other couple had also fallen silent. He stared up at the stars, thinking that it wasn't so bad to have shared that moment with them. At least they were complete strangers and he would never have to see them again.
After a time, they tidied themselves the best they could, dressed, and gathered their blanket. Ron would've cancelled the spell on the ground, but Hermione was right—they couldn't risk it in the presence of Muggles. He left it the way it was and they headed back out of the trees, hands clasped together.
Harry lay on his back, hands clasped behind his head, looking up through the canopy of trees to the starry sky. He turned his head to look at Draco and grinned.
"Worth it?" he asked.
"Gods, yes." Draco chuckled. "Even if that did feel absolutely filthy talking to you that way for their benefit. Why'd you want to do that, anyway?"
"Two reasons. First, because they'd been all over each other all night. It was maddening. I tried to get them to go away by acting all grumpy, but I finally just had to tell them to go shag somewhere else."
"And? What's the other reason?" Draco prompted.
"And," Harry continued, "because I knew Hermione would enjoy it. She's been pretty miserable lately, and she needed to relax." He snorted. "She was serious about those Auror romances. They're dreadful, by the way." He laughed. "I wish I could've seen the look on Ron's face."
"Sneaky bastard." Draco nudged him with his toe. "I realise we're long past being schoolboys, but you definitely should've been in Slytherin."
Laughing harder, Harry replied, "I almost was."
"You were not." Draco sat up. "Were you? And what do you mean, almost?"
"Exactly what it sounds like." Harry, too, rose to a sitting position. "The hat wanted to put me there. I asked it not to."
Draco was silent for a moment. "Because of me." It wasn't a question.
"Yes," Harry said quietly. "I'm not sorry for the choices I made. But"—he took Draco's hand—"I'm sorry that we didn't give each other a chance back then."
Draco shook his head. "No, don't be." He leaned in and kissed Harry. "It never would've worked. You still needed to save the world, after all."
"Arse."
"I wasn't joking." Draco's grey eyes shone in the moonlight, and for a moment, he held his serious expression. It changed, though, and he chuckled. "How did we end up here?"
"I dragged you into the shrubbery and forced you to do naughty things to me in earshot of my friends." He cringed, thinking he knew more about Hermione's kinky appreciation for gay sex than he wanted to.
"Not that." Draco rolled his eyes. "I mean this." He gestured between them.
"Oh, that? Didn't it start with your ex-wife and the gardener?" Harry's face heated up again. "And, er, a fantastic blow-job in the men's loo of the most posh establishment in Wizarding England."
"Watch it, Potter. I'd suggest your mouth is going to get you in trouble, but it seems it already has."
Harry tackled him and pushed Draco onto his back, pinning him down. Instead of replying, he leaned down and kissed Draco. "My mouth always finds trouble," he whispered before claiming Draco's lips again.
Eventually, tired and sated, they exchanged one last lingering kiss. They tidied up and put their clothes back on then parted ways with the promise to see one another later. Harry crept back out of the trees and located his friends, who were listening to the Muggle band performing.
"There you are, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "We wondered where you'd gone."
"Yeah, mate," Ron chimed in. "This band's not half bad." He nodded his head towards the musicians. "I'm fairly certain at least one of them's got connections because they played a classic Weird Sisters song."
Harry laughed. "The Weird Sisters…that's going back a long way." Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Hermione staring.
"What?" he asked.
"Er, Harry, you're a little…" She pursed her lips. "Your shirt's not done up right. And are those leaves in your hair?"
He reached up his hand and brushed absently at his hair. "Oh. Must've missed a few."
"Just what were you—wait, no, never mind." Ron shook his head. "I don't want to know."
"Same thing you were doing, I expect," Harry answered. He allowed a slow smirk to bloom. "You sounded like you were enjoying yourselves."
"How the hell would you—" Ron's mouth dropped open. He closed it, opened it, and closed it again. He swallowed several times. "Fuck."
"Ronald!" Hermione exclaimed.
He rounded on her. "You didn't seem to mind when you were listening to them use the word—repeatedly." He clutched his stomach. "I think I'm going to be sick."
Harry narrowed his eyes at Hermione. "Why doesn't it bother you that you heard me?"
She shrugged, and a faint pink tinge appeared on her cheeks. "I may have—sort of—figured out it was you." While Ron was busy making retching noises, she asked, "So, who is he?"
"We're keeping things quiet for now. It's sort of new."
"Oh." She smiled at him. "When you're ready, we'd love to meet him." She pressed her fingers into his arm.
I don't know if you'll ever be ready, he thought. Aloud he said, "Absolutely."
"Can we just watch the band play? I need a distraction," Ron said with a huff.
"Definitely," Harry agreed.
They turned back towards the fire, listening to the music in companionable silence. Sufficiently distracted, Ron reached for Hermione's hand, and they entwined their fingers. A gentle smile played on Hermione's lips, and she appeared the most relaxed Harry had seen her in ages. He mentally congratulated himself on a job well done.
