Part II

She stuck to Ron.

Literally stuck to him.

She skirted around Harry, avoided his gaze, ignored Malfoy and stuck like crazy glue to Ron.

Because she knew, Harry wouldn't dare say anything in front of Ron. He would be silent, quiet. And she wouldn't have to talk about anything with him. But she hadn't anticipated the lengths he would go to, to speak to her.

'Hermione…'

She spun around violently pulling her skirt down. Gasping, as she saw who it was, she turned away. No way. He couldn't- no, wouldn't- follow her to the girl's bathroom to talk to her. He just wouldn't. It had to be that bastard who dragged him here. He was here somewhere. He had to be.

And he was.

He was in front of her now.

Harry behind her and him in front of her. She turned away yet again. Rather Harry than him. She was so angry her fingers were shaking. Or that's what she told herself. I am angry, pissed off beyond doubt and reason with both of them. Yes, Harry too. I am not scared. I am angry.

'We need to talk.' Harry said quietly.

'No.' her voice quivered dangerously. Shaking with anger, she reminded herself. 'You need to leave. This is a girl's bathroom and both of you are-'

'-boys?' How dare that bastard mock her? Just fuck all, really! How dare he? 'Come on, Granger,' he said patronizingly, 'We knew that before we got in here and it didn't stop us. You think you're saying it makes the fact that we're boys news to us?'

She chose to ignore it. 'Harry?' she protested and it came out sounding more childish and whiny than she expected. She flushed immediately.

'Hermione, you wouldn't talk otherwise. You were always around Ron and we all know that he…' Harry hesitated. He felt guilty. Of course he felt fucking guilty. That Ron knew fuck all about this beautiful little affair that was blossoming behind his back. He felt terrible.

'…Can't know.' Malfoy said firmly. He, however, felt absolutely no guilt in admitting that this was hidden from Ron. Like he gave a fuck. As far as he was concerned as long as Harry was staying, it was okay. Everything seemed fine. Whom he was lying to and what he said meant absolutely nothing to Malfoy.

But it obviously wasn't. Fine. It wasn't fine at all. It couldn't be. Golden Boy Potter and Slime Prince Malfoy? The universe had somehow gotten fucked up.

Hermione's eyes darted towards the door. 'We don't need to talk. There's nothing to talk about.'

'Au Contraire- there is, sweetheart.' Malfoy smirked.

'There isn't.' she protested earnestly, taking two steps towards the door, 'And don't call me sweetheart.' She added furiously.

'Then what do I call you, love?' he was still smirking.

'Shut up, Malfoy,' she snarled, her eyes flashing. Her cheeks were flaming and her chest was rising and falling rapidly. He was riling her up, pissing her off and he knew it. And he liked it. Because he couldn't tick her off so often. She almost never reacted to his taunts and jibes, because they meant nothing to her. Even "mudblood" had grown old now.

This, however, was a refreshing change. He was going to get to fuck with her mind, now that Harry was involved. And after yesterday's revelation, er…confession(?)…well, she had a pretty good idea of what was coming her way.

'Or what?' he was still smirking smugly. Oh how she wanted to slap him. 'Or what, Granger?'

She turned to Harry, who couldn't seem to be able to stop watching her. She flushed a darker red. And her heart was beating a little faster. 'Hermione…'

'…Harry, this has got to stop.' She strode confidently towards the door. 'I can't believe you went through with this. And now I have to leave.' Harry didn't move and this frightened her slightly. Would he block her and stop her from leaving? She turned her back on him as she reached him and looked at Malfoy.

She was startled to find him right behind her. He was towering over her and the proximity…oh Gods, she was getting all tingly. She had to physically restrain herself from moaning as she felt his breath against her skin; he was so close. She swallowed loudly to hide a hitching breath.

'I can tell people. About you, I mean,' she said struggling to keep her voice even. 'Ab-About th-the t-two of-f y-you, I m-mean.' she stuttered abysmally. That was because Harry had closed in behind her. He was standing right behind her. His chest rising and falling, his heart racing too. He was afraid too. Their friendship sustained him. He didn't want to fuck that up. He needed her and she understood that. She needed him too. In more ways than one. But that was not going to happen.

Too many consequences. Ron. And Ginny. The Weasleys. And fuck, all of Hogwarts would talk. The Golden Trio was no more. And what else? Their "chosen one" was a homo. A fucking homosexual! And who was his lover? The prized son of Voldemort's closest Death Eaters- Malfoy. Oh, this was fucking fabulous.

'You mean, bi,' Malfoy said suddenly.

'What?' she hadn't said all that aloud, had she?

'He's bisexual. He likes girls too. That is, if you consider yourself one. Don't worry, the Wonder Boy hasn't rotted to the core.' She had. Said it aloud.

Harry hadn't said a thing yet. He just stood behind her, silent and unmoving. He was pondering something. She could see his face in the bathroom mirror. He was looking at the top of her head, frowning. His hair was messy as ever and their inky blackness was hypnotizing.

'What is that supposed to mean?' she demanded, confused suddenly. Or so she told herself.

'Granger, seeing you mad, turns me on,' he smirked, 'Seeing you play dumb doesn't. If we,' here he gestured to Harry and himself, 'wanted bimbos, you think we forgot Parkinson?'

'Shut up,' she tried to seethe. She turned him on. She turned him on! It was the one thing that registered in her mind. Her lips even moved to say that she wanted to jump his bones at the thought of him. But she stopped herself.

'Harry here,' he reached over to tousle his hair, brushing her shoulder and making her shudder in the process, 'is hopelessly in love with you-'

'-Shut up.' this time it was Harry. It was a quiet, you've-said-enough shut up. It was a shut up that screamed, 'He just told you the truth, Hermione!' 'Hermione,' he started, paused and struggled. He paused, 'We need to talk.'

'Oh fuck it, really!' Mafloy burst out. Harry glared at him. 'Words are not going to work, Potter. So deal with it or,' here he paused again, glanced at Hermione and then Harry, a steely glint. Now she got scared. She recognized that look. She'd seen it so many times. In that changing room? Yeah…there. This was lust.

'Or,' he licked his lips and she stared, hypnotized. 'We could go through with my…ah…idea.' She didn't like the way he said idea. She didn't like it at all. She suddenly felt she knew what was happening. Or going to happen.

'I think…Malfoy- I don't think that's a good idea. I don't want to risk it…' Harry was hesitating. What was this "idea"? Hermione needed to know. She bit her tongue and swallowed her question.

'…It's a risk you have to take. Otherwise you'll never know, Harry.' It was the first time Malfoy had used Harry's given first name. Apart from when he cried it as he came. It was his trump card. The trick up Malfoy's slimy sleeve. Though she (now) knew he was anything but slimy. 'And,' he added almost as an afterthought, 'you think too much.'

And with that, he moved forward and plunged his hands into Harry's hair and pulled his head forward. And kissed him on the lips. And he had mashed Hermione between them, giving her a perfect view of their lips. Their mouths. Their tongues.

Touching, licking, nibbling, little moans of "Potter" and "Draco". Sliding, slipping against each other's velvet softness. She stared. Sweet Merlin. They were so beautiful together. She felt the tingling in the pit of her stomach. She felt the telltale sinking and the weakness in her knees. And then it came.

The first, fresh spurt of wetness.

She blushed, ashamed. She pressed her thighs together and she felt the wetness- warm. Her lungs were on fire as she struggled to breathe. She needed…wanted…oh Gods. She didn't hear the mumbled exchange between the two kissing boys. She didn't see Harry turn to her as he pulled his now, swollen, red full lips of Malfoy's.

And he kissed her.

She moaned. She couldn't help it. She felt Malfoy's erection pressing into her back, and Harry's into her front. Harry's mouth was on hers deliciously hot and soft. His tongue was magic. Malfoy pressed closer behind her, his tongue tracing the shell of her ear and then his teeth lightly grazing her lobe.

She leaned back into Malfoy's hard, muscled chest as she broke apart from Harry, gasping for breath, knees weak…wanting more. Malfoy circled his arms around her waist, seemingly holding her up against him. Harry's hands were in her hair and she relished in the hot, soothing feeling of his fingers against her scalp.

'You like that, don't you, Granger?' Malfoy whispered into her ear, his breath tickling her. She flinched slightly and stared straight ahead. 'Come on, Granger,' he cajoled, his voice a low growl, 'Don't be so frigid,' he smirked.

She took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

He had no idea how wet she was at that very instant.

She stared Harry in the eye. She was just about to ask him something when Draco's fingers brushed her skin. He pulled her hair back, exposing the curve of her neck. She waited in anticipation. He let his breath hit her skin first.

She hesitated.

And he pounced. His teeth sank into her skin. She closed her eyes and turned her head away, invariably giving him more access to her skin. Harry inched forward. She let a small moan escape her lips as his- he rocked against her slightly. She could feel him, hard and aroused. Waiting…

Draco bit into her a little harder and she gasped. It hurt, it was painful, but there was pleasure too. She could feel how much they both wanted her. She could feel the urgency in the way his teeth nipped her skin. She could feel his desire in the way his mouth hungrily devoured her. She could feel that this was more than lust- he didn't want to hurt her. He soothed the burning of his bites with his tongue.

He moved out from behind her and pressed her back into the cold wall.

Her back arched at the loss of warmth and the shock of the cold. She was panting slightly and her back was straight, her fingers trying to grasp this wall. She shook her head. This was wrong. This was so wrong.

'You haven't spent long thinking up excuses, Granger.' Malfoy smirked.

'Its right, Hermione,' Harry said quietly, 'There was so much at stake when it was me and Malfoy. If it was lust…' he shook his head, 'You know I wouldn't. It's not just lust. It's…' he struggled a little, '…more. it's more.' he affirmed.

Damn her for voicing her thoughts. Since when had she begun to do that anyway?

'Since yesterday, I think.' Malfoy grinned. It was wolfish and wild and made her heart race. He hadn't ever grinned at her like that. Harry was on the receiving end of all those things.

She'd spoken. Again. she had better shut up.

'Yes, you had better.' He was still grinning and looked like he was fighting back a laugh. 'I prefer them quiet. Except when you come. Then I'd like you to scream my name. ' he hastily corrected himself, 'mine and his.' He nodded at Harry.

She blushed, mortified. Not going to think anymore, she intoned to herself, I'm not thinking. If I don't think then there's nothing to say.

'True,' Malfoy seemed to think about it, 'But like I said before, if we wanted a bimbo we would've taken Parkinson.'

'Draco, stop it.' Harry grinned finally. 'Hermione, he's an accomplished Legilimens. You're not saying anything out loud. You're thinking it and he's messing with you. And he shares the thoughts he hears with me.'

'I'm not messing with her,' he said to his nails as he inspected them, sounding offended.

'Oh whatever. You're fucking with her.' Harry laughed.

'Haven't begun yet, but yeah, that's what's on my mind,' he said grinning at her again.

'You both are crazy,' she said finally. It was the first time she had spoken. 'To think this is anything. This is nothing. If you need a wank- go to a shower for Merlin's sake!' she was panicking. Two boys. Both so beautiful what if they didn't- what if she wasn't good enough? She didn't think herself inferior, she knew she was a little attractive, un conventionally. But for the two of them?

'Hermione,' Harry sounded slightly stunned, 'What's wrong with you-?'

'-With me?' she tried to not let her voice shake, 'Wrong with me? Take a long, hard look in the mirror, Harry, maybe you'll realize that what's wrong is not with me- its with you. There is so much at stake here! Our friendship, our-'

'-Oh shut the fuck up, already, Granger. You're a filthy whore for this, ' ('Draco.' Harry had warned), 'and you know it. How many days have you come to the changing room and watched us and touched yourself?'

He pressed closer and she cowered against the wall. 'How many times have you wished one of us had touched you? How many times, Granger? And don't fucking lie to us. Because you'll be lying to yourself.'

'Harry,' Hermione whimpered weakly. His proximity was too much. He was much too close to her. He was such a bastard. Now just reach between my legs, she thought, and…

Suddenly he wasn't close to her anymore.

He wasn't there.

She suddenly realized that her eyes were screwed shut. She opened them and found the bathroom door swinging silently shut. She leaned against the wall and sighed. It was a dream.

Wasn't it?

A/N: Title changed to The Lust Triangle. R&R folks before you run to the bathroom to touch yourselves, evn though this wasn't all that smutty.