alisanne

Title: Homecoming
Author:

alisanne
Rating: Soft R
Pairing: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley/Harry Potter.
Summary: Ron comes home.
Word Count: 790
Warnings: Threesome.
A/N: Written for

hp_may_madness' 2015 fest.
Day twelve prompt(s) used: We didn't start the fire, Nimbus 2001, Clover, Fish and chips, Shattered.
Kink: Group sex (threesomes or moresomes).
Thanks for all your fabulous threesome suggestions! ♥ I may have to write them later this month.
Beta(s):

torino10154. Thanks, hon!
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

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Homecoming

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The first few days after he got back, Ron got the cold shoulder. He could understand it, he’d abandoned them after all, but when, at night, Hermione would give him a look and then slide into Harry’s bed and close the curtain...Well, it stung.

Angry with himself, he lay there, listening to the whispers, which were eventually replaced by soft moans, and then, finally, the breathy cries of release, and he’d fondle himself, remembering how it had been before he’d gone and bolloxed it up.

Often, he’d torture himself by recalling the look on Hermione’s face when he’d stormed off. She’d been shattered, devastated. And that was how he felt now, convinced they’d moved on without him.

Hermione forgave him eventually, of course, but it took time. And Harry’s help.

“It’s cold in here,” said Ron one night.

Harry looked up from the book he was reading. “That’s because we didn’t start the fire yet.”

“I guess I can do it,” said Ron. He glanced towards Hermione. “If we all agree it’s cold?”

Hermione shifted, her lips thinning, but she didn’t look up or reply.

Harry winked at Ron. “So, what’s for dinner? What I wouldn’t do for some fish and chips.”

“You didn’t like the beans I made last night?” Hermione asked, frowning.

Harry hummed. “They were fine, I’m just craving something different.”

Ron, after starting the fire, cleared his throat. “The Lucky Clover’s close by.”

“The what?” Harry asked.

“It’s a pub with good fish and chips and it’s...well, it’s not close but I could Apparate there and pick some up. The owner’s not a friend of the Snatchers and--”

“Oh yes,” sneered Hermione, looking up and focussing on a point just the left of Ron’s ear. “Great idea. And while you’re at it maybe you could pick up some ale, too, and we’ll have a party!”

Ron bit his lip. Hard. “I would be careful,” he said quietly. “It’s just--”

“It’s just what?” Hermione snapped, slamming shut her book and standing up. “It’s just you want us to like you again? To accept you again after you abandoned us, so you’re willing to go off and risk everything again for what? For some chips?” She waved her hands. “Maybe you should just pick up a new Nimbus 2001 or whatever number they’re up to now and bring that back as well! Hell, we should all go, have a night out, pretend that we’re not in a war and he isn’t trying to kill us. Would you like that?”

“I didn’t mean--”

“What did you mean?!” she shouted. “What did you mean when you left us, Ron?”

“I was scared, all right?” Ron shouted back. “You and Harry are the perfect couple and what am I? The third wheel. Did you even miss me when I left?”

Hermione’s eyes flashed, her hands balling up into fists. “You arse! I love you. We love you. Of course we missed you.”

Ron’s eyes went wide and he looked over at Harry, who was smiling. “You what? You never said--”

“You idiot.” Hermione looked away. “It should have been obvious. If we’d wanted it to be just us we wouldn’t have begged you to stay.”

Ron slowly moved closer. “I thought you were just being--”

“What? Polite?” Harry murmured, still watching them closely.

Hermione started when Ron took her hand but didn’t snatch it away. “No one’s that polite, Ron,” she said. “If I didn’t want both of you I’d have said so.”

Kissing her felt like coming home, and when Harry joined them and they stumbled to bed, Ron was nervous, careful. He held back, wanting to watch rather than ruin anything.

“Honestly, Ron,” Hermione finally said as he gently fingered her. “Come on.”

Harry, behind her, nuzzled her neck while eyeing Ron. “She wants you to fuck her,” he said. His hands moved from her breasts to her thighs, which he pulled apart. “She told me last night.”

Unable to resist having what he’d missed for so long, Ron moved forward and was soon sliding into Hermione. Both hers and Harry’s arms surrounded him, and as he moved in and out of her, he kissed them both, clinging.

They did everything that night, as if trying to make up for lost time, but it wasn’t until afterwards, when he lay, in the circle of their arms, his head on Hermione’s breast, and Harry kissing his shoulders and neck, that Ron cried.

“Shh,” Hermione soothed. “We forgive you. It’s all right, you’re home.”

And that was when Ron finally knew it was true.

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