Chapter 2: Two Grooms and a Bride

Later that summer, the Burrow had been transformed into a marquee for the second time in a year. Only this time, there would be no Death Eaters gate-crashing and a lot more paparazzi. The media was in frenzy that the Golden Trio would be marrying each other. Ridiculous theories abounded, some of which included polygamy and others went so far as to accuse Harry and Ron of being gay (which they weren't). Minister Shacklebolt had to hold a press conference to dispel these outlandish claims and explain the rare magical concept behind what some had termed The Wedding of the Century.

When the big day finally arrived, there was no shortage of guests. Security was at its maximum, and even some who were on the official guest list had to be turned away for lack of space and fire code concerns. These people were redirected to a hill overlooking the Weasley home, where a rented jumbotron, bewitched with magic, had been set up to broadcast the event live.

Down behind Mr. Weasley's tool shed, Mr. Granger looked his daughter up and down. She looked stunning, but that did nothing to dispel his emotions. As a father, he had ever right to be nervous over giving his only daughter away. But the fact that it was to not one, but two men – men who were arguably the most powerful wizards in the magical world – made the feelings all the more enhanced. He had his misgivings, to say the least.

"Sweetheart, are you sure about this?" he asked Hermione for probably the tenth time that morning. Hermione just smiled at him.

"Daddy, I want this. More than I've ever wanted anything. I love Harry and Ron, and they love me. They're honest, they're sweet, they would never do anything to hurt me…and they'll protect me. You just have to trust that they can."

Mr. Granger sighed. There was no changing his daughter's mind; that much was clear. Grudgingly, he escorted her to the foot of the marquee to be ready for the start of the ceremony.

Meanwhile, in an upstairs bedroom, Harry and Ron were helping to fix each other's suits.

"Ready for this, mate?" asked Harry.

"Absolutely," Ron said. "But still nervous, too." He paused before asking. "Say, Harry? How are we going to work out…"

"…the logistics of tonight and every night for the rest of our natural lives?" Harry grinned. "We'll figure it out tonight, or just let Hermione do it. Knowing her, she probably already has." Ron laughed.

The best friends proceeded down to the front of the marquee and slipped through a fold in the tent to reach the altar without coming down the aisle and encountering Hermione before it was time. Soon, the procession began. Finally, when Harry and Ron could stand it no longer, she appeared.

Neither of the men could belief it. Hermione had morphed into an angel, a goddess, or any other ethereal creature that made mere mortals drool. She was the epitome of beauty in her dress and her blissful smile at the sight of her loves made her look even more radiant. She finally reached them.

"You look brilliant," Ron whispered to her.

"Yeah, why don't you dress like that more often?" Harry inquired.

"Always the tone of surprise," Hermione smiled. They paused, waiting for Kingsley to begin presiding.

"Well, here we are," Ron offered up to fill the gap.

"Together forever," Hermione concurred.

Finally, the ceremony began. It was slightly more complicated than a traditional wedding, as the vows had to be said and rings exchanged an extra time and it had to be assured that each participant had said their words to everyone else. At last, Kingsley declared the Golden Trio husbands and wife. Everyone applauded and Ron and Harry were grinning like fools. Then, it came time to kiss the bride. Harry and Ron did not try to hide their confusion over who should initiate this.

"You go first," Harry offered.

"No, you, you're the Chosen One," Ron countered. The crowd got a big kick out of the spectacle, and everyone laughed.

Oh, for Godric's sake, boys, it's not like I have cooties, Hermione thought, but she remained patient and took it upon herself to randomly choose who to kiss first. She turned to the youngest Weasley boy and said sweetly, "Ron…I think you're supposed to kiss me."

"Oh, right," Ron agreed, as if he hadn't known all along that's what was supposed to be done. He took Hermione in his arms and kissed her with the passion of someone who had waited for years to express his feelings. Hermione was surprised by Ron's enthusiasm, but found herself responding wildly to his lips. They broke apart after a moment, and Hermione felt dizzy with happiness.

"My turn," a voice whispered in her ear, and Harry wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. She turned back to him and he kissed her gently. Hermione nearly collapsed at his touch. Both of them tasted oh so good, and she knew she didn't want to kiss anyone else ever again for the rest of her life.

The audience went nuts at this and didn't stop applauding for twenty minutes.

The reception was the party of the year. The butterbeer and feast was overflowing, and George Weasley looked his happiest in months. Hermione felt like she was in heaven. She danced with her dad, and then was passed back and forth between her boys for the rest of the night. She leaned into their muscular frames and smiled in contentment.

At long last, the crowd began to disperse. Harry, Ron and Hermione were hustled by Aurors past the paparazzi to their waiting limo and it sped away. Ron whispered to Harry if they could put up the shield separating the back from the front so one of them could privately consummate their marriage with Hermione. Harry nearly cried from laughter, knowing it was a joke, but nevertheless felt the need to tell Ron to be patient until they got to their new home.

The house turned out to be in Harry's infanthood home of Godric's Hollow. The newlyweds got out of the limo and approached the front door.

"Oh, I can't wait to see the inside! Let's go!" Hermione said, but Harry stopped her.

"Whoa there. Old English custom- carry the bride across the threshold." So saying, he swept Hermione off her feet and went inside. The bride squealed in partial protest, partial delight.

"Harry Potter, put me down!"

"No," Harry laughed. To vex her more, he began to waltz around the room with her in his arms, humming as he went. "Dum, da da dum, da dum, da dum dum dum…" He spun, and effortlessly passed Hermione off to Ron, who then proceeded to carry her upstairs to their waiting bedroom. All three of them laughed heartedly. Ron finally reached the top landing and kicked the door open with his foot.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Potter-Weasley," He said grandly. The three of them had agreed that this would be her new name, and the men would simply keep their surnames. Hermione smiled at her new identity. She began to kiss Ron all over his face in a sweet display of puppy love.

"Can you take me to bed?" she whispered in his ear. Ron gladly set her down on their bed. Hermione stretched out and looked up at her husbands lovingly. She watched as they went about the room and into the adjacent bathroom, making sure everything was just so. She thought they were so cute when they engrossed themselves in a task. Finally, they moved out towards the hallway.

"Give us a second, love. There's something we need to discuss," Harry told her. When he and Ron were alone, they faced each other. "I think you should be the first to make love to Hermione. You were in love with her before I was."

Ron blushed slightly at Harry's directness, but agreed. He had dreamed of being the one to take away Hermione's virginity, and was touched that Harry was conceding this task to him without any sort of argument. "Alright. Thanks, mate. I'll call you when we're done." He strode back into the bedroom, where his gorgeous bride was waiting.

"Are you ready, love?" Hermione asked him. Ron sat down on the bed.

"I've been ready for a long time," he admitted. Hermione sat up.

They kissed, tenderly at first, and then with growing passion. Ron gently unzipped Hermione's wedding dress and slipped her out of it. Hermione threw off Ron's suit, little by little. The pair fell back onto the bed, ready to consummate their marriage. Ron decided to tease his new wife a bit by not caving right away; instead, he started kissing her all over her body. Hermione giggled at his touch.

"This is completely different from…" Hermione stopped short. Ron paused in his caressing of her.

"Different than what, love?"

Hermione would not meet his gaze. "Ron, honey, I'm sorry, but I have to tell you." Her voice lowered and she murmured. "I'm not a virgin."

Ron looked dumbstruck. His eyes filled with tears, and he began to shake in rage. Someone had gotten to his true love first. "Who?," he growled. He could only think of one possible person, and his guess was all but confirmed when Hermione didn't answer him right away.

"Krum. I slept with Victor Krum." She reached for him pleadingly when Ron looked as through he wanted to stalk from the room. "But I regretted it the minute it was over. It was spur of the moment, Ron. You've got to believe me."

"How could you sleep with him?" Ron asked, looking as though he was about to cry. "How? I didn't sleep with Lavender! Not once, not once, did I give in to her desires to do it with me, because I wanted to save my first time for someone extra special: you!"

"I know, and I want you to have that. You're my husband; I love you. I'm yours, Ron: forever and always yours. Please don't be mad at me for something that's in the past. Krum never did and never will mean what you and Harry mean to me. Let's make love and move on. Please."

Ron softened, though he still looked sad. A single tear rolled down his cheek, but he steeled his nerves. "Alright." He bent over Hermione and began to make love to her. Hermione gasped as he entered her, but slowly began to relax at the familiarity.

"Oh that's wonderful," she breathed in between heated kisses with her husband. And, then, because she meant it and wanted to eradicate his sadness: "God, you're so much better than him."

Reinvigorated, Ron thrust faster and faster and quickly found a rhythm. He touched Hermione in all the right places, discovering what turned her on. Finally, with a scream of his name, she climaxed. Ron followed seconds later, and feasted on her body hungrily. When their lips met in a searing kiss, Hermione could taste her juices on his tongue. She pulled back to look into his eyes.

"I love you, Ronald Bilius Weasley," she sighed. Ron grinned at her.

"And I have always loved you. Rest, now, while I go get Harry." He slipped into some boxer shorts and a T-shirt and left the room.

A few minutes later, Harry strolled in, wearing only his boxers. "You look bloody gorgeous," he told her. Hermione looked him up and down and grinned seductively.

"And you look like someone I want. Come here, you." She grabbed him and kissed him hard, pulling him down on top of her. Once again, she felt that electrifying feeling as a man unified with her. Thus the Chosen One and the Brightest Witch of Her Age began to have sex.

Harry was like a machine. He lit up his bride faster than Ron even did, going right for her weak spots immediately. Hermione guessed that Ron had communicated all of them to Harry, like one would share cheat codes in a video game. She moaned sweet nothings to him as they began to move in sync faster and faster. At last, Harry groaned, "Oh, god!" and he came. Hermione seized his manhood and sucked on it with the greediness of a baby. When she had had her fill, she sank back into the pillow and sighed.

"Harry James Potter, I adore you. What did I do to deserve such attractive, loving young men?"

"For just being you," Harry smiled. He kissed her once and shifted off of her. "Go to sleep, darling. You must be exhausted."

That was the last thing Hermione heard before she drifted into unconsciousness.