A/N This is a Christmas present for everybody who has me on alert or as a favourite author.
WARNING: This fic contains sexual content and Hermione's sexual fantasies of watching two men together. If the suggestion of slash offends you please click the back button. Homophobic comments are not acceptable.
Live Bed Show
"Oh...oh...oh yes!" Harry's voice sounded very excited indeed.
"Come on," Ron was moaning, "come on you bastard. Oh stop showboating and put the fucking thing in!" he cried out in desperation.
"That's it, that's it, that's it!" Harry's voice grew higher and more frantic.
"Oh yes!" Ron roared.
"YES!" Harry agreed with gusto.
"Oh I love you," Ron was euphorically whimpering, "Where has this Dick been all my life?"
"Practicing," Harry sighed, "all day and all night, eating, sleeping and breathing balls and rings until this moment."
"I never thought this moment would come," Ron said, almost crying.
"Hey, come here mate," Harry said, softly, "you deserve this. Loyalty like yours, devotion, commitment...I just feel bad for Ginny."
"Fuck Ginny," Ron barked, "she's had her moment, years of moments and now it's my turn."
"And what about Hermione?" Hermione Weasley said as she pushed open the living room door and stepped through to glare at her husband.
Ron and Harry were standing on the sofa, arms around each other and television flickering away in the corner of the room.
"Hermione!" Ron cried out and leapt over the back of the sofa to grab her, pick her up and spin her around, "We're winning the league! The fucking Cannons are winning the league, we're one hundred and seventy points ahead, and even if they catch the fucking snitch we'll still win."
"Counting chickens Ron!" Harry warned, grinning widely and bouncing up and down on the sofa.
"Two grown men acting like children." Hermione sighed and shook her head.
"Children!" Ron exclaimed before bellowing at the top of his lungs, "Rosie...Hugh...get down here and watch Daddy's life finally have a meaning!"
"Ron!" Hermione gasped while Harry fell onto the sofa in fits of hysterical laughter.
The kids' footsteps thundered down the stairs and Hermione was scolding Ron while he jumped off the sofa and flung himself before the TV set on his knees.
"Over thirty years Hermione, three decades of pain and humiliation and now, finally..." Ron was actually stroking the television set as he spoke.
Rose and Hugo ran past their mother and into the living room. Hugo flung himself onto Ron's back and Rose dropped to her knees beside him and bounced up and down.
"Is Auntie Ginny's team winning Daddy?" Rose asked him, happily.
"The Harpies aren't Auntie Ginny's team, Auntie Ginny doesn't play for them anymore, you support the Cannons love, remember?" Ron instructed his daughter.
"The Cannons!" Hugo roared, punching the air and gripping Ron around the neck with his other arm.
Ron jumped to his feet, Hugo still on his back and joined his son in chanting at the screen.
"Can-nons, Can-non, Can-nons..."
Harry rolled off the sofa and picked Rose up to fling her over his shoulder, following Ron and his son around the room.
"Join in Rosie," Harry laughed, "one day in the future you'll really appreciate why Daddy's so happy...and why he'll probably start crying."
"I don't want Daddy to cry!" Rose said, alarmed.
"Don't worry, sweetheart," Hermione called out, "it'll be happy crying."
"And look, look, look, look...YES!" Ron was pointing wildly at the screen before leaping into the air and almost banging Hugo's head on the ceiling as the Cannons' Chaser scored again.
Harry and Ron tried to hug while carrying the children and the children laughed and clapped. Hermione watched from the doorway and shook her head, a bemused smile on her face.
"You see that man?" Ron was kneeling before the TV again and jabbing his finger at the screen, a drunk looking man with wild sandy hair was giving the Harpies' fans a two fingered salute.
"The man swearing at the angry people?" Rose asked, happily.
"That's him," Ron nodded, "that's is my new hero. I love him. Hermione," Ron turned to look back at his wife, "You need to get pregnant tonight, have another son and we can call him Dick!"
"Excuse me?"
"Well I can't have his babies can I?" Ron said, as if his wife was complete idiot.
"Dick Swinton," Harry said as he bent over so Rosie could see the picture better, "has just scored twelve times in a row and Daddy's very much in love," Harry glanced over to Hermione and threw her a mischievous look, "you don't mind sharing do you Hermione?"
Ron and Hugo were dancing around the living room and chanting again.
"We love Dick! We love Dick!"
"Oh my God," Hermione said as she fanned herself and turned to leave the room, finding that she had to make herself a cup of tea very urgently.
"So he was happy then was he?" Sandra, Hermione's colleague at the Internal Investigations department, asked with a chuckle.
Hermione had just recounted how Ron had screamed himself hoarse when the Cannons Seeker had finally caught the Snitch and they had been awarded the Quidditch League Championship trophy by Gwenogg Jones.
"Yes indeed," Hermione nodded, eyes wide, "he cried and then Rose cried because she always cries when somebody else does, then Hugo was sick from all the jumping around. Harry hugged Ron and then they stood in front of the television set with their arms around each other singing 'You'll Never Walk Alone'!"
"Oh dear," Sandra laughed.
"All Ron's brothers came over to celebrate with him and Ginny kept me company, she didn't get a lot of sympathy for her former team mates losing the title but didn't want to put a dampener on Ron's good day."
"Poor cow," Sandra said with a shake of the head, "I got lucky with my husband, he has no interest in Quidditch at all. Looks like you might become a Quidditch widow Hermione."
Hermione was looking at a framed photograph on her desk, thoughtfully, before shaking her head and looking up at Sandra again.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I said...What are you off thinking about madam?" Sandra smirked, I know that glazed look.
Hermione blushed and sat up straight in her chair.
"It's nothing."
"Oh come off it, tell me!"
Hermione sighed; she hadn't been able to confide in Ginny because of the awkward situation, this was her brother after all.
"Well the thing is," Hermione shifted around in her seat and checked the open door before lowering her voice, "when I first heard them watching the match, the sounds they were making and the things they were saying...it sounded like...like sex!"
Sandra threw back her head and laughed.
"So I bet you went running in there to join in eh?"
"What? No!" Hermione said, shocked at the very suggestion, "I was going to say something but then I got caught up watching them enjoying the end of the match and then the house was full but later on..."
Hermione squirmed again, this time smiling to herself. Sandra wheeled her chair over to Hermione, their knees bumping together, and stared at her with wide eyes.
"Oh well you've got to tell me now!"
"Alright," Hermione said and she leaned in even closer, "well when everybody left Ron and Harry were a little drunk. I was coming back down from putting the kids to bed when I saw them in the kitchen."
"Better than beating Voldemort, better than losing my virginity, better than getting married, better than the babies being born...this is the best day of my life!" Ron was talking to the ceiling and leaning into Harry's side.
Harry was unsteady on his feet and kept swaying under Ron's weight, grabbing hold of him to regain his balance, and trying to reach for the neck of Ron's bottle of beer with his puckered lips.
"Hold it still f'ra sec," Harry mumbled before deep throating the bottle and sending foam shooting out of his nose. Ron snorted and collapsed against the kitchen counter in fits of laughter.
"The Chosen One just came through his nose!" Ron's laugh made his speech shaky.
Harry wiped his chin on Ron's sleeve and swallowed before sniggering, dopily.
"Harry," Ron said, pausing to stifle a burp, "it's like, it's like they did it for me."
"I think they did it for you," Harry nodded and patted Ron on the chest.
"You do?" Ron said, eyebrows lifting and smile wide.
"Of course, they owe you!" Harry said, gripping Ron by the lapels and looking up into his face, "You deserved this mate. This was payback for all your years of loyalty."
"It's been YEARS Harry!" Ron said, pained expression on his face.
"I know, I know," Harry said, soothingly, patting Ron on the side of the face, "you've suffered."
"I have," Ron said, sounding like a little boy whining that his mother was treating him unfairly.
They sighed, deeply, and took a long swig of their beers. The bottles were drained and set, rather clumsily, on the counter before Harry pushed himself away from Ron and toppled backwards. His eyes were wide with shock at the fact he was falling but he didn't do anything to prevent it. Ron caught him by the front of his shirt and pulled him forward.
Harry slammed against Ron's chest and they chuckled before staggering, arms tangled around the other's body, along the hallway to the living room.
"Y're too drunk to Floo, y're gonna sleef on the sopa...sleef on the sopa...wait, I can get this."
Harry laughed and threw himself down onto the sofa, pulling Ron down with him. They both groaned, tiredly.
"We're not young anymore," Harry sighed, "'Member when we could drink all night and get up early the next morning to go to work?"
Ron adopted a thoughtful expression for a moment before responding.
"No."
"Oh right, that wasn't us, that was Dean and Seamus!"
They began cackling and soon settled into a sleepy silence. Harry's head grew heavy and gradually laid upon Ron's bony shoulder.
"Thanks for stickin' wi'me." Ron mumbled.
"Huh?" Harry barely opened his eyes as he responded.
"Well you got stuck wi'me as a kid and you coulda dropped me when I didn't deliver but y'didn't. Y'stuck wi'me and eventually I wasn't a looser anymore. I'm your Cannons."
Harry lifted his head to look up at Ron sleepily. Ron turned his head to look down at his best friend and they were a breath apart for a second before Harry spoke.
"You were never my Cannons; you were my Patronus...my permanent, flesh and blood Patronus."
They were still looking into each other's sleepy, drunken faces. Ron's nose was almost touching Harry's. Hermione held her breath and Ron's lips parted, he licked them and closed his eyes.
"My patronus is a dog."
With that, Ron's head fell forward and he passed out. Harry was already asleep. Their heads rested together and the fire lit them with an orange hue.
"...and I was actually disappointed. I was spying on my intoxicated husband and brother in law, both of whom are my best friends, and I was willing them to kiss each other." Hermione said in horror.
"Yes." Sandra nodded.
"What's wrong with me?" Hermione cried out before throwing herself upon her desk and burying her face into her arms.
"Um...nothing," Sandra said, simply.
"What?" Hermione frowned, lifting her head and peering through her mass of hair at the woman.
"Okay, don't take this the wrong way Hermione, I fantasise about having a threesome with another man and watching him and my husband getting off all the time."
"You do?" Hermione gasped.
"Of course, and here's the thing you're not supposed to take the wrong way alright? I've fantasised about your husband loads of times."
"You have?" Hermione sat up and clamped her hands over her mouth to keep any further exclamations to herself.
"And Harry Potter, I mean...they're both gorgeous! I'd pay money to see the two of them snogging."
"Bu...Wha...Ron and Harry? My Ron and Harry?"
"You just said yourself you wanted to see them kiss."
"But it's not something I was overjoyed about. It wasn't something I imagined other people thought about either."
"Oh calm, down, it's harmless." Sandra said with a shrug.
"I will not calm down, I'm having fantasies about my husband kissing my best friend!"
"Okay, alright, let's put this into perspective and show you just how normal you are." Sandra took Hermione by the hand and dragged her out of her office and spotted a gathering of witches at the end of the corridor, "Hey, you lot, have you ever had a sexual fantasy about watching two men together?"
Nearly all the women nodded, enthusiastically, one of them was looking as alarmed as Hermione.
"Do you know this lady, Hermione Weasley?" Sandra said, pointing to the utterly humiliated witch beside her.
All the women at the end of the corridor nodded and waved at Hermione, who tried to hide behind her hair as she waved back.
"So you know her husband Ron?" Sandra asked.
Again, all the witched nodded, this time with very vocal 'yes's.
"Have you ever had a sexual fantasy about him with another man."
"Oh of course!" the witch who had looked alarmed said before clamping her hand to her mouth and squeaking.
The other women giggled and then one of them called back.
"I used to have a big poster on my wall of him and Harry Potter from my Mum's Witch Weekly. I could look at that all day long." She said as she gazed, dreamily, into the middle distance.
"Did you know that if you put Ron Weasley and Harry Potter Chocolate Frog cards face to face they run off out of their pictures in the same direction and come back looking all rumpled and sometimes wet?" Another witch added with enthusiasm.
"They say that they run off to play Quidditch but people with imagination find better ways to fill in the blanks!" A third witch said before they all broke into giggles again.
"Thank you ladies," Sandra smiled and nodded before dragging Hermione back into her office and closing the door behind them, "So you see, it's not only normal, it's very popular."
Hermione sat down at her desk to die of embarrassment...
...and write a note to herself to buy Chocolate Frogs on the way home.
Ron was building a sturdy bookcase from beech, the beautifully crafted piece of furniture was almost finished, and he was bending over to sand down the rough edges.
He was bare chested and sweating as his arm pumped backwards and forwards along the flat surface of the wood. The muscles in his shoulders rippled and the hollow at the small of his back glistened with a moist lustre. His jeans were slipping down as his body moved and she kept waiting, hoping, willing the faded and tattered old denim to wriggle down enough to reveal the crack of his buttocks.
The sunlight pouring through the window onto Ron's freckled skin was a glorious golden colour, as if the light has passed through a filter of honey, and his hair was blazing like fire. Even the fine hairs on his scarred arms were catching the light and emanating an ethereal glow to make him look like a mystical God of sex and carpentry.
As Ron stood up with a grunt and wiped his brow with his forearm two other arms curled around is body, hands splaying across his chest, and suddenly Harry was at Ron's back. Harry sighed with a smile, resting his cheek between Ron's shoulder blades, and was also shirtless.
"Take a break," Harry mumbled into Ron's skin.
Ron let his head fall back as he reached behind him with one arm to run his fingers, covered with sawdust, through Harry's unruly black hair and grip it loosely.
"It's not finished yet," Ron sighed as Harry began nuzzling into the side of his neck.
Ron's eyes closed and he bit his bottom lip as Harry began to trail kisses up to his jaw and slide his hands down the lean body to press into the sparsely freckled stomach.
Ron moaned and turned his head towards Harry, lips parting. Harry rose up on his tiptoes and heaved a sigh into Ron's waiting mouth before his tongue pushed between the two pink fleshy pillows. Ron turned in Harry's arms to crush their mouths together and swallow Harry's tongue.
Harry's hands moved around Ron's body and drove themselves down beneath the waistband of his jeans. Ron pushed his hips into Harry's and changed the angle of his head, letting his own tongue slide against Harry's. Harry squeezed Ron's arse beneath the loose denim.
Ron was holding Harry's head in place with both hands and moved his head in and out, hungrily devouring Harry's kiss as if it was melting ice cream he couldn't bear to miss a drop of.
"Touch him," Hermione whispered, nothing more than a disembodied voice swirling around the two men.
Ron made an impatient sound as he released Harry's head and dragged his hands down the shorter man's torso. Ron's thumb teased Harry's nipple and his long fingers rippled down the corrugated flesh of his ribcage.
"Oh God Ron, yes, just like that, touch him!" Hermione panted.
The image swam before her and Ron's face was hovering above her, his hands on her shoulders. She tried to shrug him off and shove him back to Harry.
"No, go to him, touch him Ron. Please keep touching him!"
"Hermione?" Ron was looking down at her in alarm.
"I want to watch you kissing!" Hermione growled with frustration as she sat up and almost brained herself as she clonked foreheads with her concerned husband.
"Bloody hell, what's wrong with you?" Ron said, wincing and rubbing the bridge of his nose, eyes watering.
"Oh...was I...? I was dreaming. Sorry love, I was dreaming, I didn't mean to worry you." Hermione said as she pulled Ron's hand away from his face to examine his nose.
Ron was still looking at her as if she was speaking a different language.
"You...were dreaming about...me," he said, uneasily.
"Um, I don't remember," Hermione lied, "You know how it is with dreams? You don't remember most of them do you?"
"You were saying my name and," Ron paused to process the information himself, "telling me to touch somebody, to kiss them for you."
Hermione giggled, wildly, which seemed to terrify Ron so she stopped abruptly.
"Oh dreams are so silly aren't they?"
Ron stared at her, warily.
"Hermione, love, what's going on?" Ron asked her, body tense and frown lines deeply creasing his forehead above his nose.
"Just a nonsensical dream," she grinned, "like that time you woke up and had to Floo call everybody to make sure they could still speak English?"
Ron was still unconvinced.
"I did that because I dreamt that nobody could understand me and were talking to each other, about me, in a flibberdy-floberdy language," Ron said, sitting right up in their bed and looking his wife in the eye, "You said you wanted me to keep touching him, you wanted me to touch a man Hermione. You were talking about me kissing a 'him'!"
Hermione tried to think of a way to laugh this off but was drawing a blank.
"Please tell me what's going on," Ron said, tension leaving his body ever so slightly, but worry seeming to worsen, "do you think I'm cheating on you?"
"No!" Hermione said, adamantly, "Never!"
Ron let out an unsteady sigh and then nodded.
"Good, I would never..."
"I know," Hermione sat up and cupped his face in her hand, "look I just had an odd sex dream about watching you with another man ok?"
Ron blinked in shock.
"It doesn't mean I think you're gay or having an affair or anything like that, it's just a silly sex fantasy. I was talking about erotic fantasies with the girls at work and two men together came up and I started thinking about you and...how sexy you are."
"You weren't in your own sex fantasy?" Ron said, looking slightly rejected.
"I was, I was watching it, I was enjoying it."
Hermione was blushing and Ron was looking as if his head was about to spin off his shoulders.
"You were enjoying me touching a bloke." He was speaking for his own clarity.
"Imagine me and...and..." Hermione thought for a moment, "Ok, imagine me and Madam Rosmerta helping each other put on tight corsets."
Ron's ears went bright red. Hermione smiled at him and held his hand with both her own.
"It's nothing more than that Ron," she said with a relieved sigh, "just me seeing you with a man instead of a woman."
"Oh," Ron said, still slightly distracted by the corset image she'd planted in his head but seeming relieved all the same, "right, I'm with you."
"Good," Hermione said as she leaned in close and delicately kissed him on the lips, "because you're what makes the fantasy Ron. It wouldn't have been sexy if it wasn't you."
Ron looked flattered but embarrassed.
"So uh, who was my 'Rosmerta' then?" he grinned sheepishly.
Hermione pressed her lips together and hoped he wouldn't lose his perspective on the matter when she told him the truth.
"Well, it was just you for a while, I was watching you looking great and sexy and manly...and then Harry started touching you and it got...much better."
Ron's eyes bulged.
"Harry?"
"Yes."
"Me and Harry?"
"Yes."
"You were getting all sexed up like that over me and Harry...touching?"
"Yes."
Ron sat back on his pillow and ran his hands over his mussed up hair.
"We weren't putting corsets on each other were we?"
Ron was her husband, father to her children, and she loved him more than life...and books!
Harry was her best friend, Godfather to her children, and she loved him nearly as much as she loved Ron.
Ron and Harry were brothers and best friends and two halves that make a whole and they loved each other more than they loved themselves.
So it came as no surprise to Hermione that her beloved husband had told Harry all about her embarrassing 'fantasy' and even less of a surprise that Ron and Harry found great amusement in teasing her about it as often as possible.
"More toast Harry?" Hermione asked one winter morning.
Harry had stopped by to pick Ron up and go to work, as was the norm, and had sat down beside him to read the paper over his shoulder and have a cup of tea.
"Oh thanks Hermione," Harry said brightly.
He rose from his chair and leaned right across Ron to pluck a triangle of golden brown toast from the toast rack and clamp it between his teeth.
"Better eat that quick," Ron said as Harry moved back across him to drop back into his seat, "we have to floo no and saying the address with your mouthful gets you where?"
"Getsh me shent to an old peoplesh home in Easht'ourne," Harry said with his mouth full.
"Yes," Ron nodded, looking very amused to be recounting the story, "the bathroom of the old people's home in Eastbourne. And what did the arse of that old man look like, I can't remember what you said now?"
Harry swallowed and narrowed his eyes at Ron for winding him up.
"I think he said it looked like yellow cottage cheese with red liquorice bootlaces running through it," Hermione said with a grin.
"And thank you both for reminding me of that," Harry said with a shudder before taking another bite out of his slice of toast and crunching away at it.
Ron chuckled and Hermione gave him a look of playful mischief.
"Better or worse than the time you Flooed to the Burrow in the middle of the day and saw your parents having sex on the kitchen table Ron?"
Ron looked as if a ghost had just passed through him and shivered.
"He should not be touching my mother like that!" Ron said, waggling his finger as if his father was sitting across from him at the table.
"Oh come on mate," Harry sniggered, "seven kids...you must know how they got seven kids. They didn't find you inside a box of Chocolate Frogs y'know?"
Ron shoved Harry and Hermione laughed at her husband's adorably old fashioned innocence. Ron cast her a devious look and then turned back towards Harry.
"We have to go now and you still haven't finished that toast," Ron said in a smooth, deep tone of voice.
Harry's eyes twinkled with impish glee and he shoved the half eaten slice of toast part of the way into his mouth and lifted his eyebrows.
"Wuh're oo 'unna oo agou'it?"
Ron's mouth curled upwards into a wicked smile and he leaned forward, tilting his head to one side and parting his lips, and began to eat the piece of toast that was hanging out of Harry's mouth. Harry stroked his hands, lightly, up Ron's arms and made a moaning sound as he began to chew. Ron groaned and ate his way closer to Harry's face, rubbing his hands up and down his best friend's thighs. Just as their lips were going to smoosh together they tore the toast in two and sat back from each other, looking very pleased with themselves.
"You are not in the least bit funny," Hermione hissed before storming out of the kitchen.
"Oh come on 'ermione!" Ron called after her while Harry choked with laughter on his toast, "Give us a bit of direction and we'll do it the way you like!"
She slammed the door and fanned herself, furiously.
Christmas was well on its way and Hermione was torn between the two families and their desire to have her, Ron and the children at their table for Christmas dinner. Ron was working overtime to pay for all the gifts and extra food. Hermione was working overtime to pay for the childcare for Rose and Hugo while she and Ron were at work and Molly was flustered with the preparations for a Weasley family Christmas.
At the end of every day they would spend time with the kids, put them to bed and then collapse into their own bed without time or energy for conversation.
"Ok, so I get back at four to pick the kids up from Muggle nursery school and drop them off at Bill and Fleur's to play with Eponine and Marius," Ron said as he struggled with his cloak before realising he was trying to put his arm into the hood, "I'll give Victoire a galleon for babysitting them until seven when you come and take them home."
"Right," Hermione nodded, "but give her two Galleons, that's three hours with two of your children."
"What have they done to make them my children?" Ron huffed.
"It isn't what they've done, it's what they will do," Hermione said before pausing to drain her cup of tea, "Now I'll have them home and fed by eight, when do you think you'll be back?"
"Ummmmm..." Ron said as he walked backwards, towards the fireplace, eyes upturned as he tried to organise his thoughts for the day, "I should be home at nine."
"Nine?" Hermione said, doubtfully.
"Thirty," Ron amended with an apologetic shrug.
"So I'll put them to bed and make you a snack for ten?"
Ron cringed and nodded.
"Sorry."
Hermione strode across the kitchen to give her husband a hug and a kiss goodbye.
"It's not your fault."
"Look, if I can get back to put them to bed I will, I'll see if I can get somebody to pull a late shift tonight alright?"
"And end up having to work your day off in return?" Hermione said, pinching him, "I don't think so."
Ron squirmed away from his wife's teasing thumb and forefinger and laughed.
"Well I'll still try ok? And don't worry about making me anything to eat; I'll have something at work." Ron leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.
"I'm making you a triple-decker sandwich and you're going to eat it Ronald Weasley!" Hermione growled, "I'm not having my husband eating a stale pumpkin pasty from that rat hole you call a canteen!"
"To be fair love, they never found any rat holes...just a rat."
Hermione gave a weary sigh and shook her head.
"That's it, no more overtime."
"But..." Ron began to protest.
"No, I mean it, I don't want a big fancy Christmas present, I want my husband home at a reasonable hour to enjoy his family and then enjoy his wife. I hereby forbid you to buy me a Christmas present this year."
"I am not going to cheap you out of a Christmas present," Ron said, fiercely.
"You are not spending a Knut on me, that is an order." Hermione said, defiantly.
"An order?" Ron chocked on his own incredulity, "You can't boss me ar...Oh bollocks, what am I talking about? Of course you can!"
Hermione laughed and Ron looked pained to agree with her 'no Christmas present' plan.
"Go to work, put an end to the overtime, and spend more time at home worshipping and adoring me."
Ron grinned.
"I can do that."
It was Christmas Eve and the 'Father Christmas' Free House Elves Service' was busy preparing to magically fill the pillowcases of the children of witches and wizards everywhere.
Rose and Hugo were in bed and Hermione had arranged to take the family to her parents house in the morning and then Floo everybody to the Burrow for Christmas dinner. Her mother had agreed on the proviso that she spend Christmas Eve helping Molly prepare the turkey, Christmas pudding, Christmas cake and make Hermione's favourite stuffing. If she was honest with herself Hermione was positive that Molly was relieved to have the help.
It was going to be a tiring day and she shoved all her work aside and snuggled in front of the fireplace, watching the fairy lights twinkling on the tree, and smiled as she heard Ron's footsteps.
"I'm in the living room love," she called out as she shuffled along the sofa to make room for him beside her.
"Hi," Ron said, hesitantly, as he appeared at the door.
He looked nervous and excited about something and kept glancing back through the door to the hallway.
"What's the matter Ron?" Hermione said as she sat up and silently vowed that if her husband was being called in to work late on Christmas Eve she was going to Stupefy him and hold him hostage.
"Well," Ron said, shifting from foot to foot and looking back through the door again, "it's time to give you your Christmas present."
Hermione groaned and sank back in the cushions of the sofa.
"Oh Ron I told you not to buy me anything, I said I wanted time with you instead of an expensive gift and I meant it."
"Didn't cost me a penny," Ron said with a cagey smile, "just a really uncomfortable conversation with my sister, who never wants to hear this spoken of ever again. She specifically asked me to tell you that."
"Ginny? What?" Hermione frowned.
Ron drew in a deep breath and his eyes shifted to the side, to whatever he kept looking at in the hallway, again.
"Oh for goodness sake!" Hermione huffed as she jumped to her feet and barged towards Ron to see what he was looking at.
She froze when she saw Harry standing with his cloak draped over one arm and a bottle of Oak Matured Mead clutched in his hand. He smiled at her as if she would automatically know why he was there just by his very presence.
Hermione turned and looked up at Ron. He put his arm around her and pulled her into his side.
"Merry Christmas Hermione," Ron said in a low, hopeful voice, "for one hour only, me and Harry'll do anything you want."
Hermione gasped. She looked from her husband to her brother-in-law and back to Ron again. She opened her mouth and blinked. After making no sound at all she closed her mouth and looked back at Harry.
"You can tell us to clean the kitchen if you want," Harry smiled and gave a half shrug, "or make the bed..."
Hermione still hadn't exhaled since she'd gasped and her head was spinning as she looked back at Ron.
"Or," Ron continued, a slight edge in his voice, "make us get off with each other on the bed...if you'd like."
She was hot and dizzy and all the lights were dimming around her worried looking husband as he knees buckled, he swore, and she was swept away in the arms of darkness.
"Maybe she only liked the idea in her head?" a voice was saying, echoing around her skull like a pin-drop in a cavern.
"I don't think she fainted because she was horrified by the idea Ron."
"Ron?" Hermione said, feebly, as her eyelids fluttered open.
There was an orange haze before her and as she regained her focus she saw a pair of startlingly blue eyes blinking back at her. Ron was looking worried as he slowly moved his hand to her face to push back her hair and cup her cheek.
"Hermione love, are you alright?" Ron was trying to smile and sound reassuring, but appeared to need some convincing himself.
She reached up and brushed her thumb against Ron's chin.
"I fainted?"
"Yeah," Ron said, tension leaving him now and eyes lighting up along with his smile, "you went down like a sack of spuds. I only just caught you."
She laughed, softly, and patted him on the cheek.
"My hero!"
"Yeah, he was very dashing when he fell over backwards onto his bony arse," Harry's voice said with a snort of amusement.
Ron huffed.
"You didn't have to ruin it by telling her I fell over!"
Hermione sat up and stared at Harry in shock, before remembering that he was partly the cause of her swoon, and broke into a sudden blush.
"Are you...feeling ill?" Ron asked, looking fretful again.
"Uh, no, not at all," she said as she tried to come to terms with her dreams having leapt out of her head to become reality, "I just seem to remember you and Harry telling me I had you at my command...as a Christmas present."
Harry chuckled softly and Ron's head dropped with a sigh of defeat.
"I'm such a prat love, I thought I was being clever, I fooled myself into thinking you'd like it. I even got Harry and Ginny to agree to i-"
Hermione clamped her hands to the sides of her husband's face and kissed him, firmly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Harry biting his lip and smiling. She broke the kiss and stared Ron in the eye with intensity.
"Now," she whispered, "I want you to do that to Harry."
Ron blinked and his lips glistened with moisture from their kiss. Hermione stroked his face and nodded, smiling happily.
"Go on, give me my present, I want to see you kiss him."
Ron rolled his shoulders, cleared his throat, and turned to glance at Harry. They looked at each other, nervously. Ron swallowed and Harry removed his glasses and set them down on the bedside table.
The two men moved forward, with caution, and stared into each other's erratically darting eyes as they drew closer. They seemed to want to close their eyes but were fighting the urge so it didn't compel the other to do the same.
"Close your eyes," Hermione whispered, excitedly.
They both did it instantly and pressed their lips together, firmly, before opening their mouths a little and pressing harder. Harry's top lip was between both of Ron's and he tilted his head to one side so he could tug at Ron's lower lip and tease the opening a little wider with his tongue.
Hermione clenched her fingers tightly around the bedcovers and her breath caught in her throat as she watched the two wizards massaging their lips together.
Something was a little off and she soon realised what it was. When Ron kissed her he was all hands; in her hair, on her face, exploring her body; and both he and Harry were only touching at the lips.
"Touch each other," Hermione said, with more urgency than she had really intended to convey to her jittery performers.
Ron's eyes rolled towards her to look for further instruction while Harry turned his head to look at her discreetly.
"Where do you want me to touch him?" The partially blind Harry blinked.
"I want you to feel underneath his clothes, touch his stomach and his chest," Hermione said, beginning to smile at how easy this was becoming for her, "And Ron, I want you to push your fingers into Harry's hair and hold his face while you snog the breath out of him!"
Harry turned back towards Ron and strong, freckled hands gripped the sides of his face and angled his head upwards before crashing their mouths together and enticing Harry's tongue out of his mouth with his own.
Harry moaned into Ron's mouth and pushed his hands up the back of Ron's T-shirt to rake his fingers down the narrow yet muscular back. Ron's fingers sank into Harry's jet black hair and his thumbs fell into the hollows of the smaller man's cheeks.
Ron's head was tilted right over as he sucked upon Harry's tongue and Harry wriggled closer to him on the bed and began pushing Ron's T-shirt up his body and fighting to force it past his shoulders.
"Lift your arms Ron," Hermione ordered.
Ron released his hold on Harry and raised his arms above his head, still kissing Harry all the while. Harry tugged the T-shirt over Ron's round shoulders and then tore himself away from their kiss to yank the cotton fabric over Ron's head.
"Kiss his neck Harry!" Hermione demanded as she sat up and balled the sheets tightly within her fists.
Ron's head was tipped back from the removal of his T-shirt and his throat was extended and exposed. His arms still in the air above his head made his neck and arm muscles flex gloriously.
Harry licked along Ron's neck before trailing kisses from the hollow well beneath his Adam's Apple all the way up and around behind his earlobe. Ron exhaled with a breathy moan and fell back onto the bed, Harry slamming down on top of him. Ron moved beneath the weight of Harry's body as the smaller man crawled up the long pale torso and nuzzled back into the side of his neck.
Ron's arms were still pinned above his head but his knees were bending and hips lifting off the bed, pushing Harry's body up with them, and he clenched his jaw with intensity as he fought not to grind his hips into the body on top of him.
Hermione bit her lip so hard she almost drew blood. Her husband's breaths were short and ragged and his face was lined with deep furrows because of his struggle not to get too excited by their 'act'.
"Rock your hips Ron," Hermione said, shakily, unable to believe how much she wanted to see the man she loved turned on by his best friend.
"Herm...love..." Ron was gasping as he tried to pull his hips away from Harry's body but the weight on top of him just pressed him back down onto the mattress, "...this is different!"
Harry rolled off Ron and looked at her in shock. Hermione felt almost feral in her disappointment.
"You look beautiful," Hermione huffed, "you look sexy and wonderful and you were really turning me on, now grab Harry's arse and nibble on his nipples!"
Ron's eyes were wide and Harry's lips were red and puffy from Ron's abrasive stubble. Hermione knew that feeling well enough. The men looked at her and she shimmied her skirt up and over her hips and slipped her hand into her knickers.
"Tease his nipples Ron," Hermione purred, "I want to see you get Harry all hot and bothered."
Ron swallowed and licked his lips. Harry's mouth was hanging open and he was panting.
"Give me my Christmas present boys!" Hermione growled as her hand began to move, slowly.
Ron grabbed hold of Harry's arse cheeks and squeezed them hard before plucking at the red berry-like nipples with his tender lips. Harry drew in a sharp breath and closed his eyes. His hand moved to the back of Ron's head and pushed it into his chest.
Ron opened his mouth a little more and flicked at the glistening, wet nipple with his tongue.
"Oh God!" Harry gasped, fisting Ron's copper hair in his hand, tightly.
"He's so good at that isn't he?" Hermione smiled widely before humming with satisfaction and rolling her hips against her hand.
"S-S-Ssssssssogood!" Harry quivered as Ron dragged his teeth along the pert nipple between them until it pinged back, elastically.
Ron smiled around Harry's nipple and nipped at it once more before sliding both hands beneath Harry's trousers and kneading his buttocks with his strong fingers. Harry kissed Ron's up curved mouth and tried to push his own hands beneath the tight denim that was moulded to Ron's succulent arse.
She knew, before Harry grunted and huffed in annoyance, that the jeans would be too tight for Harry to achieve what he wanted. Ron would always grumble about how she couldn't get the sizes right for his clothes. He would tut and moan that she had shrunk his new jeans and he could barely pull them on. It had been that way ever since she had packed his tight jeans for the Horcrux mission.
Ron's arse needed to be hugged and not covered.
"Take them off him Harry," Hermione said, sinking deeper into her soft pillow and watching as Harry's hands set about undressing her husband.
It was the hottest thing she'd seen since Ron had playfully wrestled with his brother Charlie in the back garden at the Burrow during the summer.
Harry's fingers fumbled at Ron's flies and Ron began to help him.
"Hands above your head again, Darling!" Hermione said, with a wicked glint in her eye, "Grab on to the bed frame and hold on tight!"
Ron looked at her, blue eyes filled with his enormous black pupils, and slowly swung his arms back away from Harry and dropped them flat against the mattress above his head.
"Anything else, Gorgeous?" Ron said, watching her touching herself and writhing with desire at the sight before her.
"You just grab hold and don't let go until I tell you," Hermione said, voice unrestrained in expressing her pleasure at having them at her command.
Ron clung to the bed frame and wriggled his hips to assist Harry with the removal of his jeans.
"And what about me then?" Harry said as he peeled away the tatty blue denim.
"You," Hermione said before closing her eyes and riding out a wave of pleasure, "You grab hold of his hips," she hissed and moaned before opening her eyes again and blinked the sight of Harry curling his fingers around Ron's sharp hipbones back into focus, "You hold him like that and kiss his belly."
Harry smiled and lowered his head to kiss Ron's flat stomach over and over again.
"Kiss every freckle!" Hermione sighed, her hand moving faster beneath the fabric of her underwear.
Harry dragged his lips across Ron's navel and pressed kisses into his side. Ron groaned and shifted his hips beneath Harry's touch, eyes closing and body squirming as he fluctuated between pleasure and resistance, and his breaths quickened.
"I can't actually see," Harry murmured into Ron's skin before licking and kissing another patch of skin, "anything at all," he ghosted his lips along Ron's skin and crossed over his happy-trail to the smooth taut skin on the other side, "so I'll just have to do this," he sucked upon a spot just beneath Ron's ribcage, "by touch alone."
"Hermione we have a problem," Ron whimpered, back arching away from the mattress and hips straining beneath Harry's palms.
She looked at her husband, who was panting as if he was running with his whole family on his shoulders, and felt her crotch quake with pleasure.
"Wh-What is it?" she asked, flustered and breathless.
Ron threw his head back and let out a high pitched squeal. His lean stomach curved in just enough to form a reservoir where the sweat he was working up could pool and his underwear was straining under the tension caused by his erection.
"Oh wow!" Hermione gasped, partly with her first orgasm and partly in shock that Ron had become so aroused by their show.
"Whoa!" Harry yelped as he felt the hardened cock pressing against his bare chest and flung himself backwards, almost off the bed completely, "I didn't mean to...I can't...touch him there!"
"No," Hermione said as she crawled forward and took Harry's place, astride her husband, "that's my Christmas present to Ron."
Harry nodded in relief and snatched up his clothes from the floor.
"I'll just be...I'll just get back to...I'll..." Harry babbled.
"I'm sure Ginny's waiting to be unwrapped too Harry," Hermione said as she cupped Ron's penis through his underwear.
Harry opened the door and was about to hurry home to his wife when Hermione looked over her shoulder and called after him.
"And Harry...thank you for my present, it was exactly what I wanted."
"You're welcome Hermione," Harry said with a nervous smile before leaning to look around her to Ron, "and you...well, I'll see you on your birthday!"
MERRY CHRISTMAS!