( Hey, this is a romione story, but it shifts from harry, ron and hermiones, you can usually tell who's it is. xxKellyn)
Harry lay on his bunk as they rested in the tent. It was 1:47 in the morning and he had not slept at all. He felt no longer felt the pulse of the cold, gold metal that was the locket. It was destroyed. A pattern seemed to drum in his head.
The cup, the snake, something of Ravenclaws...the cup, the snake, something of Ravenclaw's..
For several minutes this pattern raged on until-
"Ron? Are you awake?" Hermione's voice sounded from outside the tent.
Silence followed. Hermione entered the part of the tent where the bunks stood.
"Is it my turn to watch?" Ron replied softly.
"No. It's just..really cold. Do you have a sweater?" Hermione's voice shook slightly.
"Mione, come'ere. It's below zero. Just stay here with me. We'll wake Harry when it's his turn. Come on, just sit here." Ron said from the bunk below him.
"Is-is Harry asleep?" Hermione whispered. Harry could hear the creaking of the bed as she sat down.
"I think so. Why'd he be up anyways?" Ron said softly. Harry felt his flush creep up his cheeks as the unmistakable sound of lips meeting each other sounded from the bunk below. They broke apart with a soft puckering sound. He could hear Hermione's deep breaths.
"Shouldn't we cast Muffiliato? If you want to.." Ron said. These words suddenly hit Harry. Ron and Hermione had been friends for years but they had always been a bit rocky. He knew Ron's loved Hermione- at least, he was sure of it til Ron left. But when Ron returned, he brought a new sort of passion to Hermione. Twice Harry had seen the pair intertwined, kissing fiercely, once as Hermione was stewing mushrooms and Harry had entered the kitchen to give her a fish he caught and had gone unnoticed as they were far to busy- Ron was on a kitchen chair, Hermione straddling his lap until the fingers on Ron's left hand started fiddling on the waistline of Hermione's jeans and his right hand massaging the flesh of her breast and Harry made himself known. The second time was another night when Ron and Hermione had been snogging in the lightly falling snow when Harry awoke for his turn to stand guard. Despite the cold, Ron was shirtless and Hermione's jeans were laying crumple beside the couple. Few times had Ron been redder. Now it was Harry's turn to flush. The charm didn't work. His ears were not filled with buzzing. He could hear Hermione's lips meet Ron's and judging from the noises, they were they were again intertwined and rolling about Ron's bunk. He was indecisive. He could either be the damper of their spirit (which was quite remarkable considering the fact that they were trying to destroy pieces of Voldemort's soul) and risk they being too embarrassed to enjoy one another's presence or he could attempt to block the noises from his ears and opt to sleep. Hermione's voice quivered.
"Oh, oh! R-Ron!" she managed to get out. Harry's face blazed- his two best friends were having sex beneath him. "I..erm..read about this. It's supposed to be brilliant, for you, I can't remember the name though." She said softly. There was a rustling of fabric and in the dim moonlight, Harry saw a pair of jeans, followed by a pair of boxers, hit the floor. Harry clamped his eyes shut, desperately wanting to forget the memory that was now etched into his head.
Hermione chewed her lip as she looked at the man she had loved since she could remember. For the first time, she was gazing at Ron's nude body, his long legs and nicely defined abs. In between the ever so long legs, was a mass of curly red hair, surrounding the thing that had filled her fantasies. She was sweaty from her previous orgasm that Ron had brought her to with only his fingers. Pressing her lips to his length, he let out a soft groan. He was slightly propped on his elbows, so he could see her face but his legs were stretched out, spread slightly Hermione knelt in between them now softly suckling on his long cock. Ron's groans got louder as she increased her pace, drawing her tongue along every inch of him. Ron shut his eyes, his breaths coming in short pants as Hermione took as much as she could of him into her mouth then back out. Her fingers softly played at his balls, rubbing tenderly. She firmly pressed her lips back on his tip as he came, crying out her name and jutting his hips against her mouth as he climaxed, the hot, salty liquid filling her mouth. She swallowed, the sticky fluid wasn't disgusting but not altogether tasty. Hermione moved up to Ron who breathed deeply.
"Where on earth did you read about that?" He sighed as Hermione pulled up the sheet, around their naked bodies.
"A girls magazine."
Harry gave an inward groan as in shoved ear plugs into his ears- they didn't work. He could still hear Hermione and Ron's voices suggestively teasing. From the sound of it, they had just had oral sex and Ron and Hermione were playing along the lines of all out dirty talking. Hermione whispered something that sounded suspiciously like "I think I heard Harry move!" and within second, there was a scrambling of movement and Ron (dressed in hastily pulled on boxers) had climbed the ladder and was now peering at Harry who willed himself to stay still, his eyes closed, the lids relaxed. Ron swiftly murmured that he was sound asleep to Hermione and with a creaking of the bed, soon followed by the sliding of fabric on skin, Ron rejoined Hermione.
"Are you ready?" Ron's voice came, flooding through the ear plugs.
"Please." Hermione whimpered.
Ron slowly pushed a fraction of an inch into her. She nodded quickly. Another few inches..another...until he was completely inside of her, her walls constricting as he stretched her. Looking into her eyes, he noticed that her teeth were clenched with pain.
"Should I stop?" He knew he should ask, as little as he desired to.
"N-no. G-go on." She half growled. Ron pulled half out then thrust back in. Hermione gripped the edge of the bed, knuckles whitening.
"Are you sure?"
"Keep going, I'll be fine, it j-just takes a minute." She said, a lost tear trickling down her cheek. He maintained a slow and steady routine, the pressure in his thighs growing to a pounding ache for more. But his desire was blockaded by Hermione's whimpers of pain.
"Don't lie to me. I'm hurting you." Ron said as Hermione drew blood from the lip she was so tightly biting.
"It's just..I've never done this before." Hermione said softly, Ron not daring to move.
"Not even with Krum?" Ron said. The question had been burning in his mind but he never found the moment.
"We only kissed. And when we did, I thought of you." She said, Ron looking into her eyes. He gently slid out then carefully pushed back in. Hermione sighed deeply. He continued, slowly picking up pace. Hermione let loose a low moan as he hit the spot that made her want more. Ron took this for a sign to go faster, the pressure that was built up in his thighs and groin reaching a painful height. Ron was sent into a blissful oblivion as he came, Hermione's breaths coming in short, steamy gasps. He carefully pulled out, pulled up the sheets to cover them, kissing passionately until-
"Ron? Is that you?" Harry's weary voice sounded above them.
"Wha- oh. Erm, yes." Ron said, trying to find a way to get his boxers without Harry realizing.
"I thought I heard voices..and other things." Harry practically whispered.
Ron's face reddened. The Muffiliato charm must've broken. But when? "Oh..Mione and I were just...going to wake you for the watch." Ron invented as Hermione searched for her clothes.
"Oh." Ron could hear the embarrassment searing in Harry's voice. Harry's feet appeared on the ladder. Hermione yanked the covers to her chin. In the early dawn light, Harry's face was a bright red and he hurried out of the tent.
Harry closed the tent flap behind him. He had heard Hermione's voice. She was in pain and Ron was telling her that they should stop but she wouldn't let him. For several minutes, he heard the sharp gasps of pure pain that came from, Hermione. Then the pained gasps stopped and were replaced by needing pants and moans. He felt like an intruder upon their love. He thought maybe they would have gotten dressed after the scene had ended. Wrong. They were clearly naked and intertwined under the sheets, Ron hasting to pulled away. He felt like an idiot. Having to listen to his two best friend have sex beneath him, almost seeing Hermione naked. That would have been call for disaster. As much as he hated it, he would often find himself thinking of Ginny with another man, perhaps doing exactly what Hermione and Ron had just done. And on the unfortunate occasions in which Hermione had bent over, giving him a view of her backside or her cleavage (which he desperately tried not to think about on the nights where hormones raged) he tried thinking of Ginny, but that would then again, get him thinking of her with Seamus or Neville. It made him boil with fury that this very minute she could be removing various articles of clothing...
Hermione ached, the sex with Ron had not at first been as she hoped. He was quite big and stretched her, causing liberal amounts of pain until finally they sunk into it and both felt pleasure even if he had not made her orgasm. She felt a flush grow on her cheeks as she asked Ron how it felt. "Mione, you are brilliant. I've never felt anything like it. You're wonderful. How about you?" He asked.
"Oh. Well-I- it hurt at first but that's logical, I mean, I'm- I was- a virgin so obviously, it hurt. Nothing to do with you." She said, making sure Harry was not listening in.
"Did you...enjoy it?" asked Ron, cheeks rosy.
"Yes. You're amazing. I meant it. I would never want to do it with anyone else." Hermione breathed as Ron moved a small bit closer, lips almost touching.
"Not even when I left? Not with Krum? Or Harry?" Ron said, his voice trembling.
"Harry!" Hermione cried, forgetting to be quiet. Harry's head poked into the tent, gazing around for the source until he laid eyes on Hermione and Ron, covered only by threadbare sheets.
"Wha-oh! Sorry." Harry said, face growing red. "It's 6:30..thought you might want to know..I'll get breakfast ready." Harry said, practically running to the kitchen to avoid the scene.
Harry gave a groan of annoyance at the pair as he threw old mushrooms into the pan to heat them up. There was a shuffling of feet, a whine from Hermione and she and Ron appeared in the kitchen, Ron's ears blazing and Hermione's hair disheveled. Thankfully they were both dressed. "Sorry 'bout that." Ron said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. Hermione gave a weak smile then departed to read. Ron got comfortable on the table that rested in the kitchen.
"Erm..when did the er Muffiliato charm break?" Ron asked suddenly finding his feet of great interest.
Harry decided to answer honestly- Ron was his best friend. "Well, it kinda never worked. I just didn't you know, listen. Found some ear plugs, head under the pillow, that sorta thing. But, seriously, next time just don't do it underneath me." Ron gave a half smile.
"You probably could have told us that you were up before we.." Ron said, itching his neck. Harry smirked.
"And risk you two being too embarrassed to talk? She's been upset about you..temporarily leaving..for weeks. I just thought if you two had some "alone" time maybe things would patch up." Harry sighed, shrugging.
"Well, it worked. Other than that..well..I guess you might've heard but I..well, I think I might've hurt her." Ron mumbled shamefacedly.
"Oh. Er..well, yeah, I might have heard that part...But I think she was alright.." It was Harry's turn to flush. They were talking about Hermione and Ron's sex. Of all the possible things! But he stood his ground. He was Ron's best friend and that's what friends were for. To talk about each other's sex with their other best friend.
"The problem, is I don't think she really enjoyed it. I'm a lot taller than her, she's rather small and well, I just don't want to hurt her."
"Maybe it's not what you were doing, but how. I guess she might not have liked the, uh, position, you were in. Maybe you just need to try a different one, just, please, not where I can hear."
Ron cracked a brief smile that faded when Hermione walked into the kitchen, wincing slightly as she walked in a t-shirt; a t-shirt that was not her's but Ron's old Chudley Cannons shirt, ragged and slightly torn. It was baggy on Hermione while tight on Ron. It looked as though she was wearing nothing else, but as the shirt went to the middle of her thighs, she wouldn't need anything underneath it and Ron's pants became slightly tighter when she bent over, seeing that she wore only underneath it the pair of grey knickers she had removed so sexily the night before. She walked to the fridge, grasped a handful of ice and summoned a shirt of hers, wrapping the ice in the shirt. She gave a curt nod to Harry and a smile to Ron before exiting, hobbling slightly. Ron inwardly cursed himself. He should have stopped when Hermione was whimpering not in pleasure but in pain. She probably didn't enjoy it but faked pleasure to get it to stop. The sight of her wincing as she lay back in bed was maddening. He was filled with pure shame that it was his fault that there was a makeshift ice pack between her legs. His fault. Harry handed Ron two plates of mushrooms with a side of mixed berries. Harry murmured for Ron to give Hermione her portion then climbed up the ladder to his bunk, draping a blanket over himself, no doubt to catch up on sleep having been awake the night as Ron and Hermione had sex. Ron sat on the edge of Hermione's bed.
"You aren't alright. So don't lie." He said handing her the tin plate. She shoved a berry into her mouth.
"It's not that I didn't enjoy it. I honestly loved everything until..well, you're a lot bigger than me and I guess I just need practice. It was only my first." "Practice? With who?" Ron asked, out of the corner of his eye glaring at Harry's thin, sleeping form.
"Oh honestly. You!" Ron briefly sighed then sat closer to Hermione, digging into his mushrooms. When they had finished, Ron got up to shower, slightly surprised when Hermione too, stood up, removing the ice pack from between her thighs and followed Ron to the bathroom. He entered the small bathroom. Hermione followed. He closed the door. She didn't move. Cautiously, he removed his shirt and undid his belt. Hermione removed the shirt of his. Only a thin bra and knickers were left. Ron slid his jeans off, leaving his plaid boxers on, and turned the knob to 'Warm' on the shower. Water gushed out.
"Can you undo the clasp?" Hermione said softly, turning around. It was like a pad lock. He finally found out how exactly to undo the clasp that was so nearly the death of their romantic scene. The thin fabric fell to the floor with a Clink!. She stepped out of her knickers, trying to stuff them out of view, but before she did, Ron saw a glimpse of red. He scooped them up. Dried blood encrusted the crotch of them.
"Mione!" Ron said, dropping the knickers. Hermione looked into his blue eyes. "I can't do this with you anymore. It's not because I don't want to, but I can't hurt you." said Ron softly. Hermione shook her head.
"I love you. You really expect us to go about our daily activities, seeing each other in thread bare clothes? People bending over or coming out of the shower wrapped in only a thin towel? Ron, you're 18, as am I. I really don't think that's going to happen." Hermione said, stepping into the shower. Ron had to admit, she was beautiful. Water drizzled down her curves. Her breasts were quite ample and her legs hairless and long. Removing his plaid boxers, he too stepped under the spray. His lips found hers and they met in a breathtaking kiss, one hand steady on her back, the other stroking her hair as the water flowed down.
Harry lay under the ratty blanket, ignoring the noises coming from the bathroom where Hermione and Ron were "showering". Breathing heavily, he swung his legs over the bed and plopped onto the floor, crossing the canvas tent to where one of Perkins' old armchairs laid, soft and squishy. There was a much louder noise from the bathroom and he cringed, trying to focus on the Snitch in his hands. I open at the close. But what did that mean?
His thoughts were interrupted by Ron exiting the bathroom, wearing a pair of old stripped pyjama pants in maroon. His hair was plastered to his head, wet and on his neck, there was a very easily noticed hickey.
"Looks like you did a bit more than shower, got something on your neck there, mate." Harry said, gesturing to Ron's neck on the left side. Ron hastily grabbed spoon and checked his reflection and spluttered.
"Well- I well, you see- we-" His splutter was broken, seeing Harry's joking expression soften slightly. "What?"
"It's just, well, I know that you aren't having the time of your life and I guess sex would make that better." He realized that he sounded slightly bitter. "Of course, I wouldn't know."
"You've never, you know..."
"No. Not Cho, Ginny. Sex, shagging, making love. Whatever you want to call it." Harry said, shrugging.
"Oh. Well, it's, um, brilliant." Ron said, looking embarrassed.
"I guess I won't ever know. I think you know, and I do too, that I probably won't last this war. I'll never know.." He said, sighing.
"I think that's Mione..I think she enjoyed it more this time. It was bloody brilli-" Ron said, following a small "Ron!" that came from the bathroom.
"Oi! I don't need to hear! 'M already hard half the time, don't make it worse." said Harry, departing to the room.
Hermione called for Ron. It took a few seconds for him to reach the door, sliding in and looking at her. "What's wrong?"
"I wanted to talk to you." Hermione said. She wanted to tell him about how wonderful it felt. "I really, honestly, loved it. You're wonderful."
She watched Ron breath heavily. "I loved it too. You're amazing, you know that?" Ron said, looking at her. She was suddenly self-aware that all she wore was a ratty t-shirt she had fished from the hamper. It was Harry's but he never wore it. Only underwear was beneath. She nibbled her lip, rubbing her arms. Ron took a step closer to her, blue eyes meeting brown.
"We have got to work on our silencing charms." Ron said, one hand slipped below the shirt. A finger traced her knickers.
"Not right now, Ron. I read that if you have sex too often, then it can become, plain, boring. We don't need that. Besides, we also need some condoms, I packed some in my bag, just in case.."
"Bloody brilliant. You came prepared." Ron said, not relinquishing. She watched his lips. A tongue poked out and moistened them. Then he dived, kissing and intertwining...
Harry smacked his forehead, feeling severely pained. In the small beaded bag of Hermione's, he had found a small toiletries bag. Looking for a bandage for his paper cut, he had opened the bag. Inside, there was a box of condoms. Condoms. There was also a small box of pills that he assumed were Birth Control pills. A bottle of lubricant. There was a pamphlet that described positions for sex. Hermione's bag. He resealed the bag and shoved it as far as he could into the beaded bag and tried to forget about it, but the pressure built in his thighs that hurt to a high level. His scar torched. He forgot about the paper cut, the ache between his legs was too much to think about a stupid paper cut. Slow erratic moans issued from the bathroom. This did not help the stinging pain of his erection that was crying for need. He stood up and walked mechanically towards his bed, climbing the ladder and laying under the threadbare blanket. The fact that the ratty material of his boxers made his erection even more uncomfortable was irritating and he fought the urge to knock on the bathroom door (where Hermione and Ron were still busy) and ask to shower, to fight the painful erection that was present at almost all times, ceasing only during showers or occasionally on the lucky night where he drifted to sleep early. It was 8, according to his watch. He returned to the table and summoned a glass of water downing it in one go. He fixed a small slice of salmon on his plate, leaving more for Ron and Hermione. He ate it, chewing idly then walked up to the bathroom door. It had been over an hour and a half since he had last seen Ron. He knocked sharply on it. Hermione gave a little squeak of "Come in." Harry cracked open the door, surprised it was unlocked. Hermione was sitting on a stool, her back facing Ron. Her chest was covered by a towel and her back was bare. A long jagged sort of cut ran across her back and Ron was washing the cut out with a cloth.
"Well, you see, we were, oh damn you know. We were having sex." Hermione flushed. "When we..finished..Ron grabbed his trousers and well, his wand fell out. It sent sparks at the mirror, which broke," She said, gesturing to the shards of glass littering the sink. "One of them cut me."
Ron wriggled nervously as Hermione whimpered slightly due to the cloth pressing her back. Harry almost asked why they didn't come out but opted not too after noticing Ron was in a pair of old plaid boxers and it seemed Hermione was wearing only a pair of knickers, a simple white bra lay on the floor with the rest of their clothes.
"What did you need?" Ron asked, dabbing the cut.
"I was going to shower, but I can wait til morning..I guess." Harry shifted his feet. He was not going to explain that he had a painful erection in front of Hermione- he didn't even want to peruse the subject with Ron, his best friend.
Harry rapped his knuckles hard on the door. The sound was not welcome in the pair's ears. Hermione grabbed a towel to cover her bare breasts and Ron grabbed and pulled on a pair of boxers as quickly as he could. He continued dabbing the cut on his wonderful Hermione's back. They had sex. Real sex. Not under fading blankets, trying not to moan as Harry was supposed to be asleep above them. Real sex. Passionate. Wild. Hermione was beautiful. It had started with a snogging session, then Hermione had ever so delicately pulled her shirt off. It all went wonderful from there. He was sure she enjoyed it. Had the slightest whimper of pain issued from her he wouldn't have continued but she wanted him. She told him she did. Against the wall, he had held her, soft breaths became pants. Soon Hermione had came over 2 times, each sending her and Ron into blissful oblivion. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he hardly noticed Harry.
"I'll just go then." Harry's voice strained slightly. Ron wrapped the towel that hid Hermione's cleavage a bit tighter around her, so that Harry couldn't get a glimpse.
"Come on , Mione. I'm sure there's something in your bag." Ron leaned in and whispered to Hermione who nodded then allowed Ron to help her out of the bathroom. Harry gave a weak smile and closed the door behind him. Ron snuggled his head in the crook of her neck, smelling her hair- it smelt of the flowery shampoo that he had liberally applied during their shower. "Here," Ron murmured, grabbing the bag. She removed her panties, causing Ron to swallow deeply. She lay chest down on the bed, Ron realizing what was being asked of him. He had never tried to give a massage before. He laid the towel over her firm butt, in case Harry walked in on them. "I dunno if I'm any good at this..But I thought I should try." Ron said. He plunged his arm into the beaded bag withdrawing a duffle bag.
"What's in there?"
"Oh. Me and Harry had some stuff that we packed separate." Hermione raised her eyebrows but said nothing. She lay obediently on her stomach waiting. Ron pulled out a bottle of oil and cautiously poured some onto her back. She gave a surprised gasp.
"What is that!?" She cried.
"Er..Massage oil." Ron cringed. Hermione gave a little knowing 'Oh!' and was still. Ron carefully placed his hands on her lower back and rubbed in the oil. Hermione softly moaned. He poured a small bit more oil on and kneaded into her smooth flesh. His hands ran over her sides, making her shudder. He reached the danger zone- her firm butt. Slowly, removed the towel and he rubbed the oil into her skin, his fingers delicate on her skin. She softly sighed as his hands caressed her.
"Roll over." Ron said softly, leaning over her to whisper in her ear. "Harry should be awhile." he nibbled affectionately on her ear. She obediently rolled over, onto her back, wincing slightly from the cut. He poured more oil onto her stomach. The oil was making her flesh slick and smooth, his hands traveled to her breasts and massaged the oil in, then to her shoulders then down her arms. She was slippery with oil, his hands only brushed over her most sensitive parts, making her moan gently. A rustle came from the bathroom.
"Oi! You two, get dressed. I don't need those images in my head." Harry called.
The water had soothed the pain in between his legs and after a fashion, Harry had finished washing up and (with a towel wrapped quite firmly around his waist) he had told the other two that they needed to get dressed. Cold air whooshed against his bare chest, causing the hairs on his arms to stand on end. Hermione had donned a pair of baggy pajama pants and one of Ron's tops, Ron dressed similar. They lay together, Ron stretched out on Hermione's bed and Hermione in between his legs, head rested on his chest. Harry sighed, throwing Ron and Hermione another blanket, which was accepted in a flurry of thanks. He rolled his eyes as Ron suckled the skin on Hermione's neck.
"Mmm." Hermione breathed as Ron's lips left highly noticeable hickeys.
"Turn around." Harry muttered. Hermione rolled onto her side, out of Ron's legs. He looked faintly disappointed. Harry dug through the beaded bag. "Where on earth is our duffle bag?" Harry shot at Ron, who was affectionately rubbing Hermione's thigh.
"Under the bed. I had to get something out of it." Ron mumbled, not relinquishing his rubbing. Harry crawled on his stomach, under the bed and grasped the handle on the bag and withdrew it.
"Thanks." Harry murmured, digging through the bag until he found a clean pair of boxers and his favorite shirt. "'Kay, you can look now." Harry said, now dressed in clean clothes.
Hermione was perched on Ron's lap, his head was buried in her neck, licking and kissing.
"Ugh. I'll take the first watch then." Harry sighed, swinging down to the floor of the tent, taking a heap of blankets with him. Ron nodded, partially pitying Harry, in that he had no one to turn to in these dark times but a part of him was glad he had left, so he could have time with Hermione.
"Ron!" Hermione breathed as his hand slipped under the thin pajama pants, rubbing her through her panties. He wanted her to feel pleasure that he had felt when they had sex. Carefully, he pulled the material aside and rubbed small circles at her entrance. Hermione gave a little whimper as a single finger slipped into her. His forefinger worked in and out until he slipped another finger inside and made a movement like he was beckoning someone forth. Ron pressed his thumb on the Hermione began rocking her hips against his hand, crying out his name as she came. Ron breathed a sigh of relief. He knew how to get Hermione to enjoy their time together and she knew all to well how to get him to orgasm with the slightest touch
.
Harry wanted to yell at them to shut up. Ron was again having sex with Hermione. Again. Harry swore under his breath. How many times could they shag in a week. It was kinda pathetic. Of course, he was oblivious to how sex would feel seeing as he was a virgin. Perhaps it was so brilliant that they couldn't keep off each other. Perhaps, if he lived through this war, he might have an opportunity to maybe steal a private moment with Ginny. Ron would surely kill him but he loved her. Just great. Louder noises came from the tent. He tightened the wrapping of the blankets. Snow started falling, dusting his shoulders and speckling his black hair, creating the illusion that he had very bad dandruff. He wrapped a blanket over his head and after paying closer attention to his hands, he noticed that his fingertips were a light blue. He sucked on his fingers, trying to warm them up, the cold was stinging at him, his toes numb and his legs going the same way. He slowly drifted off into slumber until a stabbing pain caught him sharp in the forehead. It took an enormous effort to stand up and stumble into the tent. Hermione and Ron were wrapped in each other and draped with sheets. Their clothes lay forgotten on the floor. A sharp pain stabbed Harry's forehead again. Crying out, he grabbed his forehead, thumb trying to ease the white hot pain in his scar. He fought back the urge to vomit, swallowing down the bile. He dropped to his hands and knees when searing pain blinded him until a darkness washed over him and everything was black.
Hermione leaned over Harry. He had stumbled into the tent while they were having insanely brilliant sex, grasped his forehead then collapsed. She had thrown a shirt over her naked body and hoped Harry wouldn't awaken until they both wore something suitable. "Oh my God!" She exclaimed. His fingertips were blue as were his toes. Frost was forming on his ears and his hair was soaking wet. "Ron! Bring a towel! He's ill." Harry gave a shuddering groan and retched up the contents of his stomach. She hadn't seen Harry so pale in a long time and she was near tears as he groaned, grasping his head in pain.
"Hurry!" She cried. Ron rushed over with a towel and washcloth. After laying the towel over his crotch, she waved her wand to try and remove his shirt but it left a slashing cut on his chest. HArry cried out in pair as the cut bled heavily. She repeated the wand movement and this time the soaking clothes folded themselves neatly in a pile next to them. "Go get a clean pair of boxers!" Ron waved his wand and a pair of boxers landed next to Harry who's skin was dotted with goosebumps. She waved her wand again and the boxers slid under the towel and onto him.
"What happened?" Ron asked, helping carry him to the bed. Hermione knelt by the bed and mopped Harry's forehead with a warm cloth.
"Oh we're such idiots! Having sex while our best friend his half dead from hypothermia!" Hermione said as Harry groaned again, writhing around in evident pain.
"Hy-pot-what?"
"Honestly. It's when your temperature is too low. Oh damn, he must've fallen asleep in the snow! Okay, I need a hot water bottle and a bucket." Hermione breathed, Ron immediately rushing to get the things she required. Hermione pressed a hand to Harry's bare chest, feeling his heart beat. "Shh, Harry. It's alright. Oh God." Hermione said softly as Harry grasped his stomach in pain. Ron returned carrying a bucket and the hot water bottle she had requested. Placing the hot water bottle on Harry's chest and layering blankets over him apart from his head and shoulders, she wiped the frost of his ears with a warm cloth and tried desperately to get him to warm up. He was sweating but deadly cold, as though he had been dead for hours. With another great heave, Harry vomited into the bucket, eyes clamped shut. Ron Vanished the vomit, looking quite nervous as Harry became still. Hermione leaned her head over Harry's slightly agape mouth and listened for breaths, one hand feeling his heartbeat then other checking for a pulse.
"I-I think he's alright. There's a heartbeat and a pulse. Bring me some hot water, Ron." Ron left and returned with a glass of hot water. Carefully, Hermione poured a small bit of the water into Harry's mouth, tipping his head back so that the water trickled down his throat. He gave a splutter and his vibrant eyes fluttered open by a millimeter.
"Mmph." He moaned, clutching his stomach.
"What's wrong? Here, drink this, it'll make you feel better." Harry couldn't raise his arm, so Hermione poured a small bit into his awaiting mouth.
"Hea-d-d and s-stomach and-d co-ll-d. So c-c-cold." Harry shuddered. Hermione hadn't seen him so weak. He could barely form words.
Ron looked highly alarmed. He scooped up the blankets from the other beds and draped them onto Harry. Harry grabbed one of the blankets and threw it over his head, curling up in a fetal postion. Hermione sat on the edge of Harry's bed, but Harry shook her off.
"G-go." He moaned into the blankets hiding his head.
"Oh, Harry. Just, say my name if you need us." Hermione said reluctantly.
Ron started clambering up the ladder to Harry's bunk, seeing as Harry was in Ron's but Hermione's fingers brushed over his ankle as he climbed.
"I thought..maybe we should be closer to the ground. In case Harry needs us." Hermione said, gesturing to Harry, from which soft whimpers were coming from. Ron didn't argue, but dug through the beaded bag until he found two sleeping bags and laid them on the floor near Harry. Ron worriedly glanced at Harry who was still curled up and was still whimpering.
"I don't think it's hypothermia." Hermione breathed from next to him.
"Whadd'a reckon it is?" Ron replied, leaning a bit closer.
"It looks like the flu. But, that wouldn't explain why he's so..in pain." Hermione said, allowing Ron to wrap his arms around her.
"He'll be alright. This is the Chosen One we're talking about." Ron breathed, against the nape of her neck. She pressed her entire body weight onto him, not that it mattered. She was light, whereas, if he attempted to try the same thing, it was likely that he might crush her. Slowly, Hermione fell asleep against him, her bushy hair smelling beautiful, even if flyaway and fluffy. Ron glanced at Harry. He had disowned his fetal position and was now laying flat on his back, clutching his stomach in agony. Ron looked at him and Harry looked back, his gaze lingered on Hermione then flicked back to Ron. He shook his head, just slightly.
Ron whispered. "Are you okay?"
Harry swallowed. "Yea- No. In a lot of p-pain." Harry groaned, his breaths heavy. His face was a dull, chalk white, except beneath his eyes where dark circles had formed. He laid his head back down on the pillow, glancing away from Ron and Hermione. Ron peered at him for a moment then settled back down with Hermione, drifting off as well.
Few times had Harry been in such agony. Perhaps when he lost all the bones in one arm and had to regrow them..but his scar was not scorching with blinding pain then. His stomach felt like someone was slowly constricting it forcing it's contents up his throat. Once more he retched into the bucket, the bile stinging his mouth and throat. His eyes watered from the pain that built in his forehead. He wasn't sure why, but it was astoundingly difficult to remain ill in Ron and Hermione's presence. He felt like he was supposed to be strong. He was supposed to be the tough one, not the one lying in bed, throwing his guts up, his fingers and toes numb with frostbite and his head throbbing. On top of everything, his scar was stinging. Pain like no other. Hermione and Ron were lucky. They got to lay in each other's arms, he could practically feel the love that radiated from them. He was envious of them, how wondrous it would be to lie with Ginny and perhaps even have an amazing night of sex. Who could tell, if sex was truly brilliant? He was so immersed in thought that he didn't realize that the pain had subsided in his stomach and lessened in his head. He found the energy to stand up and retrieve the glass of water, which he hastily gulped, almost immediately regretting it- for the second the liquid made it to his stomach, he vomited it back up, into the disgusting bucket. He gripped the bed and stumbled slightly, the water bottle crashing to the floor with a splash and the water sprayed Hermione who woke up spluttering and coughing.
"Oh Harry! Are you alright!" Hermione cried softly, looking at Harry.
"F-fine. B-Bathroom." He mumbled, stumbling to the bathroom and once inside it, locking the door. He threw himself onto the ground by the toilet and opened the lid, After placing a hand towel onto the seat, he rested his head on the towel, gripping the sides of the toilet when he needed to vomit. After throwing up everything possible, He lay on the floor by the toilet, laying his head on the floor by the shower. The night suddenly grew darker as the pain rebuilt in his head.
Hermione watched Harry stumble into the bathroom, latching the door. The click of the lock was followed by a retching noise and a splash- he had again vomited. Pity swelled inside of her as well as guilt. If she and Ron hadn't been having sex then Harry would've never gotten so sick. After a fashion, she shook Ron awake.
"Ronald! It's Harry. He's been in the bathroom for over an hour." She whispered.
"'S wrong, love?" Ron mumbled, his face nuzzled in her neck.
"Ron! I don't think Harry's quite alright." Hermione stood up, causing Ron to roll sideways. He jumped up as well.
"Where is he?" Ron asked, looking at his empty bed.
"Bathroom." Hermione said, striding towards the door and knocking sharply on it. It didn't open. She unlocked it to find Harry, crumpled on the floor, quite lifeless.
"Harry!" she cried, throwing herself down beside him, he stirred feebly.
"Wha-a-a-t?" He yawned. He still had the look of someone who had been tortured. He was pale and the toilet was swimming with vomit. Hermione flushed it, looking revolted, before heaving Harry up.
'You! I cannot believe it. You almost die of hypothermia, you are helplessly ill with the flu and you lock yourself in the bathroom wearing nothing but thin boxers and oh God, Harry! What on earth do you think you were doing?" She raved as Ron helped her carry him back to bed.
"Nothing much, just throwing my innards out." Harry groaned as they laid him back in bed, Hermione wrapping blankets over Harry.
"This is not something to joke about!" Hermione said shrilly, using a cloth to wipe frost from Harry's eye brows and arm hair, Harry moaning in relief as she laid a warm cloth over his abdomen.
"Thanks, Mione. Could you get me a new hot water bottle please?" His voice was hoarse, Hermione noted. She waved her wand and siphoned of the bile on his chest.
"Ron, could you get the water bottle and some bandages- Harry has a cut on his chest, thanks to my handiwork. Sorry." Harry ran a red thumb over the cut but shook his head.
"Mione, not your fault. You were only trying to help." He said, giving a weak smile. But Hermione still thought it was her fault.
Ron grabbed a bottle and tossed it to Hermione who caught it and pressed it to Harry's stomach in replacement for the cloth. He breathed heavily in relief.
"Give me those bandages, Ronald." Hermione said sharply, trying to help Harry sit up, so that she could dress the wound. She applied some cream then wrapped the bandages around his torso. Harry slumped back, thanked them both then pulled the blankets a bit tighter and curled back into the fetal position yet again. Ron looked into Hermione's soft brown eyes and leaned forward, softly kissing her on the cheek. She flushed.
"We should get better clothes on." Ron murmured, nibbling at the nape of her neck. He pulled away and dug through the beaded bag until he found a pair of clean pants and trousers and after removing the only article of clothing he wore, he pulled these on, trying not to flush as Hermione watched him. He threw on a Weasley sweater and lay down in the sleeping bag, chancing a glace at Hermione- She had removed the top she wore to reveal a plain, white bra that was somehow sexy and a pair of blue, faded knickers. He pulled the sleeping bag over his crotch and legs, trying to hide the fact that he was hard just from the sight of her. She quickly pulled off the bra and replaced it with an identical clean one, then threw a sweater over it. She glanced at Harry who was still curled up in the fetal position, facing the wall, not the couple, then she removed the knickers and pulled on a fresh pair along with baggy pajama pants. She too slid into the sleeping bag, nuzzling close to Ron, who tried in vain to hide his erection.
"Oh!" Hermione squeaked as they cuddled. Ron felt a flush creep up his neck and face. Hermione said nothing more as they wrapped themselves in each other's embrace, slowly fading to sleep.
Harry began to feel better within about a week. He still hadn't eaten a bite of anything except a small piece of bread. The pain in his forehead had lessened and the agonizing knot in his stomach had seemingly disappeared but he had a tendency to rush to the restroom to throw up after Hermione and Ron were in bed (almost always sharing a bed, which didn't help the feeling of loneliness that often consumed him). Hermione and Ron were snuggling close, giving a Harry a very uncomfortable position. It was particularly mortifying when Hermione's shirt landed on the floor and he had to give a loud fake cough, to prevent them from again having sex. Ron wouldn't look him in the eye at breakfast. He would often adopt the position of curling up, back facing Hermione and Ron, so that when they undressed for bed, he was not going to watch that. The ever lasting question was, where to find the Horcruxes? Or was it the Hallows? Hallows or Horcruxes?
"OUCH!" Harry cried, his scar burning as they ate a measly dinner of toast and eggs. Hermione looked alarmed.
"Is it your stomach again? Or your scar?" She asked, eyes wide.
"Scar." Harry mumbled, rubbing the scar that had so pained him for the past 7 years. "Bathroom." Once in the refuge of the locked bathroom, once again, he threw himself on the floor by the toilet, breathing heavily. He tried not to throw up his dinner as his scar torched.
"Ron..Do you think he's alright?" Hermione said, glancing to the bathroom door.
"Well, he's been better..but I think his scar is just hurting.." Ron said, chewing his lip. "Nah, he's good." Hermione marched up to the bathroom door and knocked. No reply. She cautiously entered. Harry was laying on the floor, his head resting on the side of the bathtub.
"N-nice of you to join me." He said feebly, rubbing his scar.
"Harry! Are you alright?" Hermione said, throwing herself beside him, pressing a palm to his fore head. "You feel like you have a fever." She concluded, removing her hand.
"Oh, I'm fine, just having a causal vision into Vol-" Harry started.
"NO! THE NAME'S TABOO!" Ron yelled.
"-demort's mind." Harry snapped.
A sound came from outside the tent. Ron clicked the deluminator and the lights went out-
"Come out with you're wands up, we have 5 wands pointed at you and we don't care who we curse." came a rasping voice.
Hermione looked frightened, but pointed her wand at Harry and there was a bang and flash of white light, Harry felt his face swell. He felt a bursting pain in his face and tripped backwards. A stubbly man entered.
"Oi! Rockfold. There's a nice bitch in 'ere." said the man. Another man entered. He was taller than everyone, including Ron, and he grabbed Hermione by her shirt and dragged her outside, Hermione screaming in protest.
"No! NO!" Ron screamed.
"And 'o 're you ugly?" Scabior grasped Harry by his hair.
"Dudley. Vernon Dudley." Harry gasped, trying not to vomit. An un-earthly smell was wafting from the tent entrace. Fenir Greyback stood in the entrance, picking at his yellow teeth with his bloody nails. He smiled a horrible smile.
"That girl, won't tell me what 'er name is, see." He rasped.
"Give'r to Rockfold. He can git her to talk." Scabior laughed, kicking Ron. "And who are you?" He asked. There was the sound of knuckles hitting flesh and Ron cried out in pain.
"Bardy. Bardy Weasley." Harry could tell his mouth was full of blood, as there was a spitting noise, followed by retching.
"Blood traitor relative. Good..10 Galleons, I say. And this one. What's your status, ugly?"
Harry told them he was pureblood and then confirmed this by telling them how to get in the dungeons. Hermione was limp in Rockfold's arms, blood trickled down her leg which might mean-
"NO! NO!" Ron was again fighting against his bonds. Hermione was tied next to Harry and he got an whiff of blood and stale cologne.
"Say's her name's Penelope Clearwater. Half blood. Good enough. Thats 2 mudbloods, one blood traitor and a pureblood. We can get a good 500 galleons offa that." Rockfold said, his voice hoarse and cold.
"Oi! Theres a Phrophet in here! Say's the Mudblood known to be traveling with Harry Potter. It looks mighty like you missy." Travers said to Hermione.
She stirred a little. "It-it isn't me!" She squeaked. But her tone was a good as a confession. He interrogated Harry next.
"Oh God! This might be Harry Potter- looky 'ere! See that! It's a scar!" He cried, jabbing a finger at Harry's scar. A wand was waved over Harry's head and everything was dark. When Harry awoke, Malfoy was standing over him. He heard Lucius's eager voice. "Is it him? Is it?"
"I think so. Yeah. Whatever." Draco left, sounding bored.
Bellatrix's lofty tone reached his ears. "Send the prisioners down to the dungeons, Draco. All except..the mudblood. We need to have a talk..girl to girl." She laughed. Hermione gave a whimper of pain as she was thrown to the ground.
"HERMIONE!" Ron bellowed. They were shunted into the the dungeon, Hermione's screamed echoing in the Manor. ROn was now sobbing as Hermione cried out, screaming in agony.
Bellatrix grabbed a sharp, silver knife. "Where did you get that sword?" She cackled, eye's insane.
"We found it! We found it!" Hermione cried.
"CRUCIO!" Hermione felt as though she had been dipped in lava then in cold water. He skin burned as she drew her legs up to her chest. She could hear Ron crying for her. It make her heart ache. Bellatrix wielded her knife and in bold, horrible letters she carved "Mudblood" on Hermione's arm. Hermione cried and cried but no-one came to her rescue. Ron was sobbing and crying, calling her name. Then she had an idea.
"It's a fake! A fake!"
Malfoy marched down to the cellar to collect Griphook. Hermione was sifting out of consciousness as blood seeped down her arm and legs. She could just barely hear Griphook's rasping..
"It's a fake." She could barely hear him assuring Bellatrix the sword was not real. A dull CRACK sounded below her, she could hear it from her ear pressed to the ground. Suddenly, Bellatrix gave a shriek and a the next thing she knew, Bellatrix was holding her upright, the sharp knife just barely digging into her flesh. A few spare drops of blood trickled down her already ruined clothes. Ron was screaming her name, his voice stuffy as though he had been crying. She wanted to run but Bellatrix pressed the knife still deeper into her throat.
Words swam..."Drop it or she dies."...followed by Bellatrix's mad scream and darkness. Hermione was positive that she was dead. She was so sure..until she felt a cool cloth wipe her forehead. She was in a dimly lit room and a figure was kneeling over her. She somehow thought of Mrs. Weasley mostly due to a gleam of red. But then she thought about Ron. It turned out to be Ron.
"It's alright, love." Ron said softly, pressing his lips to her forehead.
"Oh Ron! I-it-but-how?" She cried, attempting to hug him but a stabbing pain in her ribs stopped her.
"Look, Dobby helped everyone out of the cellar then us back to the tent. Everyone else when to Shell Cottage. We visited on and off there for a week then left for good. Look, love, Harry has decided to break into Bellatrix's vault. He- We, think there's a Horcrux in it. Griphook is going to meet us at Gringotts in 4 more days." Ron said.
"What happened? Like, after she tortured me?"
"Well, the chandelier fell, thanks to Dobby, and it hit you. It took a long time, but I think we got all the glass out. There were several shards that got embedded in your skin." Ron mumbled, gesturing to her arms. She looked down- she wasn't donning anything apart from a towel around her waist and a thin strip of cloth was placed makeshifted across her breasts. She looked around for Harry and found him sitting shyly on the bunk across from them. He was avoiding looking at her and was instead twiddling an unrecognizable wand in his fingers. Hermione felt self conscious. With effort, Hermione draped an arm across her breasts.
"Sorry..I'l' just leave then." He said softly.
"Oh, don't go! We need to talk. Just, pass me a shirt please." Hermione said, thankful that Harry didn't look as she removed the cloth and replaced it with the shirt Harry had passed her. It was thin and white and see through but Hermione decided that there were worse things than nudity right now. Harry diverted his eyes from her chest and instead found her eyes, gave a weak smile then returned his face into the lines of solemness.
"I'm really sorry guys. I said the name. My fault. Hermione, it's my fault you were tortured, I'm so sorry." He looked at his feet as he said this. Hermione felt a tear trickle down her cheek.
"Oh Harry! No, listen, it's not your fault, perhaps that they found us, but you didn't make Rockfold hurt me a-and you didn't make Bellatrix use the Cruciatus Curse! And that damn knife!" Hermione cried, raising her arm to show him the scrawled letters that spelled 'Mudblood'. Harry stared, nodded and wiped away a tear that had formed in his bright green eyes.
Harry felt ashamed. Ashamed that Ron was wiping blood from Hermione's privates and legs. Ashamed that she bore the legend "Mudblood" on her arm. Ashamed that it was his fault they got caught. Ron had an expression of pure worry on his face as he wiped away the liberal amounts of blood from her legs, there was a large bruise in the shape of a fist that marred her stomach. Harry felt slightly uncomfortable as Hermione was completely nude, being rubbed down by Ron with a tub of water and a cloth. The water was now murky with Hermione's blood. Ron's hands shook as he cleaned her skin, It seemed he had deemed her clean because he asked Harry to pass him a towel that was on the floor and he ripped a long strip of cloth from his own shirt and laid it over her now clean breasts. Harry knew he shouldn't but inwardly, he thought that Hermione was quite hot. Ginny. he told himself. But Hermione's breasts were quite ample and he thought it slightly sexy that she had left a patch of curly brown hair inbetween her legs. Hermione stirred as Ron laid the towel over her most intimate parts. Her words barely registered in Harry's ears. Guilt was swimming over him. Ron leaned forwards and kissed Hermione on the lips, the kiss lasting several moments. Harry leaned back to the bed and buried his face in his lumpy pillow, groaning in annoyance.
"Ronald!" Hermione said shrilly.
"'T is it, love?" Ron asked.
"Think about Harry! We can't just sleep together while poor Harry just sits there. Absolutely not." Hermione gave an irritated sniff.
"The thought never crossed my mind." Ron pecked her on the forehead then climbed the ladder up to his bunk, as he and Harry had swapped bunks.
"Harry?" Ron murmured.
"Mmph?" Harry removed his face from the lumpy pillow to reply. "What's wrong?"
"I wanted you to know that we don't blame you." said Ron from the bunk above him.
A weight seemed to lift from his chest. Ron's voice worked as a comforter. "Thanks mate. That means a lot." Harry sighed, turning over and slowly falling into peaceful slumber.