Determined
Title: Determined
Rating: Oh, NC17, decidedly
PairTripling: Harry/Ginny/Draco
A/N: ~3400 words. This is a fic I forgot I said I'd write for rikibeth a couple of weeks ago (sorry!), after I griped about a colleague asking me to ship them something anything (to use in training; they wanted work documentation...but my mind went to the bad bad place). She asked for Harry/Draco/Ginny, involving eyeliner.
This has been run through spellcheck and looked at by my eyeballs, but feel free to point out leftover stupidos.
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Determined
It was odd, being at the Burrow without Ron. Arthur had dragged his youngest son-the only one still at home and thus the only one he could credibly compel-off to some event at which Muggle hardware would be abundant. Harry, ‘home’ for Christmas as tensions rose in his seventh year, hadn’t been able to go per Dumbledore’s rules, and Ginny had begged off-“Cramps, Dad.”
Harry hadn’t wanted to know that, but as soon as Arthur was out of earshot, she’d turned and winked at Harry. “Works every time.”
“You mean you’re not, you’re. Um.” Harry turned very nearly purple. “Do not even answer what I just didn’t ask.”
Ginny giggled at him. “You’d think with seven kids he’d be more comfortable with…oh, fine, Harry. It’s just biology, though.”
“Biology? Wizards don’t study biology.”
She raised one red-gold eyebrow at him. “No? Witches do.” She tipped her head and let her eyes run sidelong down his body, snickering as he squirmed. “Merlin, Harry. You need to get…”
“We’re not talking about this. We’re not. I’m not discussing…biology with my best mate’s baby sister.”
She just shook her head. “See? What am I telling you. Biology. Younger sister? Yep. Baby? Not so much, baby.” She stuck out her tongue at that last and disappeared up the stairs.
Five minutes later Molly found Harry sitting alone, doing nothing in particular, in the sitting room. “Wasn’t Ginny entertaining you, dear?”
“I’m fine, Mrs. Weasley.”
“Molly! Or Mum. Enough with the missus.” Molly smiled gently, then turned and bellowed up the stairs. “GINNY! You were to entertain Harry!”
“I’m fine, real-“
“Be right down!”
“All right then. See that you do.” Molly turned back to Harry. “She’ll be right back down. Will you be all right alone for a moment?”
Harry wasn’t sure when he’d been declared legally incompetent, so he just nodded and watched her bustle back out into the yard where she was degnoming enthusiastically.
Thirty seconds later, Ginny reappeared, carrying a box and looking rather…odd.
“What happened to you?”
“Idiot. This is half my face.” She gestured at her face. “Other half’s still in the box.”
“Huh?”
“Honestly! Box of makeup. Doesn’t go on by magic, you know. Well, it can, permanently, but for day to day use, by hand is a better idea. So apparently you aren’t to be left alone.” She plunked back down on the couch and picked a slim pencil out of the box, pulling at the lower corner of one eye with her left ring finger and sticking her tongue out in concentration as she drew a delicate line under that eye.
Harry snickered. “Yes, evidently your mother believes I shall simply expire if left to my own devices. Here, what on earth is that?”
Ginny waved the vaguely-scissorlike device at him. “Eyelash curler.”
Harry winced. “Doesn’t that hurt?”
“Haven’t you ever seen a girl put on makeup before?”
“Well…no. Hermione doesn’t exactly, and then what, I should have ogled my Aunt Petunia at six in the morning?”
“Ah, right then. Here. Let me show you. No, it doesn’t hurt. I swear.”
Harry was too busy trying to figure out where to put his hands as Ginny landed in his lap to get around to protesting abuse to his lashes. She had his glasses off and his eyelashes entrapped before he located an area that was not thigh or bum or belly, and then he thought it possibly unwise to jerk away while she had his eyelashes in the grip of that medieval-looking vise. She wriggled a bit to get to the other eye, and once again Harry was too distracted, this time by the fairly predictable response to Ginny’s bum, which, discussing biology or not, he had in fact noticed was damn fine, sliding about in his lap, and by the time he recovered she was leaning back and examining critically. Then she twisted round and grabbed the box. “Sit still.”
“May I, um, have my glasses back?”
“Nope.” She put them away from him, where he couldn’t reach without leaning into her.
“What are you doing?”
“Harry, you have beautiful eyelashes, for which I would kill or at least maim. I’m just, here. No, look up.”
“Gin!” He batted her hand away, willing his cock to shut up already as she giggled, shaking, in his lap. “Boys don’t wear makeup!”
“Sure they do. And you definitely…just shut it and let me do this, and then we can go wash it off if you hate it.”
Harry sighed. “Fine.” Anything to get her off his lap before she noticed. He looked up.
“Damn, Harry,” she said when she finished. “Come here.” She slipped off his lap and scooped up his glasses and led him to the first-floor washroom.”
He looked at his reflection in the mirror, six inches from the glass to see, then with his glasses framing his already huge black-line eyes. He raised his eyebrows and turned to grin at Ginny. “See? I told you. Boys don’t wear makeup. I look ridiculous.”
“Wrong! You look fucking hot.”
“Gin!” Harry stepped back as she leaned toward him, bumping into the into the sink at the tops of his thighs, stopping abruptly as she continued forward. “You! I! We!”
She put a hand on his belly, which caused his cock to start thinking lewd thoughts once again, and smirked up at him. He’d somehow never noticed her usage of the full range of twins expressions, such as this one, which meant something like, don’t you tell me I can’t because I damn well will and it’s fucking funny that you think otherwise. “We?” She stood on tiptoe and nipped at his lower lip. “Hot, I’m telling you.” The hand on his belly moved, curved around his ribs, and when she bit down gently a second time he leaned into her, let her draw his lip into her mouth, shuddering as she suckled, ran her tongue along the inner edge, pulled it into her mouth and let it slide away before recapturing it. As her attention moved along his jawline, to one flexible sensitive earlobe, he fought a brief fierce battle with himself; “this is Ron’s baby sister!” lost badly to the argument mustered by his cock and ear, working in concert: “Warmfuckummneckthroatwetwarmfuckfuckhot.” He bent at the neck then, to nip at her ear in return, enjoying the shiver that traveled up her body, which had been encircled by his arms when he wasn’t looking. After a moment, she pulled away and grinned up at him.
“What?” he asked, feeling slightly stupid.
“First, you were hot before, with the eyes. Now you’re all swelly and flushed. Positively shaggable.”
Harry swallowed convulsively. Not-so-little Ginny Weasley didn’t say words like that. Did she? To him? And, er, mean them? But she was still talking.
“And I suggest we either go play Exploding Snap upstairs, or go somewhere else, because it’s possible Mum wouldn’t approve of us fucking on her washroom floor.”
All right, Harry thought, that word was even more…problematic. “Exploding…Snap?” He managed.
She smirked. “Don’t know about you, Har, but explosive is a good word for…”
He groaned. “As if she’d approve of us…upstairs.”
“Yes, but it would take her longer to find us.”
“Fuck.”
“Why Harry Potter. Are you propositioning me?”
“N-no.” He told his cock, now dripping wet onto his underpants, to sod off.
“No?”
“No.” He almost managed to say it firmly, this time. “No. Much as…it is her house.”
Ginny grinned in a manner that was entirely evil, but did back off. Harry watched her leave the room, winking cheekily at him as she crossed the threshold, and took a deep breath.
Well before Ron and Arthur returned, Harry had convinced Molly he’d be fine for a while reading upstairs, and Ginny had been hauled off to help in the garden. There was a somewhat frantically active three-minute delay before any reading actually commenced, but by the time they got there, he was absorbed in a lengthy treatise on construction of defensive charms-Hermione would be pleased; he was actually finding the topic interesting.
“Harry!” Ron said as he bounced into the room, doing a double-take at Harry’s face, “Are you…wearing makeup?”
“Ron. You left me here with your little sister? What did you suppose we’d do while you were gone?”
Ginny poked her head into the room on passing. “Yeah, you great oaf. You figured we’d spend the afternoon shagging in the downstairs loo?” Harry nearly choked to death on the frog Ron has just given him; fortunately, Ron took this as a sign of the unlikelihood of Ginny’s question representing an actual possibility. By the time Harry regained normal breathing patterns, face scarlet, eyes tearing and running the remaining makeup away, Ginny had disappeared.
“Well. At least it suits you, mate.” Harry stared at him. “What? The year before I left for school, when it was just the two of us here, Merlin, did she ever make me sit through tea parties, complete with dress-up and, uh, that eye paint stuff. Damn near every sodding day.” Ron rolled his eyes. “But you just look like one of those Muggle rock stars in that shit.”
“Uhm…thanks. I think.”
--
They got to the train early, and nearly immediately Hermione and Ron went off to join the other Prefects, Ron complaining all the while, as the meeting was not mandatory. Hermione was insistent, though, and off they went. They’d been gone just seconds before Ginny popped up off her seat and joined Harry, crossing her left leg across her own body and over his left as well and leaning into him, sitting on her right hip. Her hand trailed down his far thigh, and before she ever got her lips to his earlobe his body notified him of two important things. First, hurried wanking in Ron’s bedroom had not in any way dulled his desires, and second, he was no longer standing in the Weasleys’ home. “Fuck.”
Ginny giggled. “There you go again, propositioning me. But first,” she waggled her eyebrows, “we have to do your eyes again. Hold still.”
He had no idea how she’d got the little makeup parcel in her hand again without him noticing, nor how it was that he was sitting there letting her draw on his face again-although, when he thought about it after the fact, he determined there was a decent chance the fact she was by then straddling him and ever so subtly rocking her hips, pressing on his painfully swollen cock through his baggy denims. might have had something to do with it. This was how Draco found them.
He was walking past, apparently heading for the prefects meeting as well, when he looked into their compartment. He stopped dead, staring, and opened the door before they even realized he was there. “What on earth are you doing to him?”
Ginny leaned back slightly and turned Harry’s face toward Draco. “Sod off, Malfoy,” Harry said, without heat.
Draco just stood there, still, and after a moment, Harry felt for his glasses so he could fairly stare back. “What?”
“You. Look. Mother of fucking Circe.”
“Hot, isn’t he?” Ginny smirked. Harry swatted her bottom, which made Draco groan. Ginny ground into Harry in response, which made him gasp, upon which, Draco shut the door and pulled the blinds. Harry lunged forward and stood, dragging Ginny up with him, her legs wrapped now around his waist. Draco turned back to look at them, gulped audibly, and pointed his wand at the door, muttering a locking spell and taking a single step toward the pair. Ginny arched an eyebrow and dropped one leg to the floor. “Did you…want to join us?” She dropped her other leg, running a hand between herself and Harry, sliding along the length of him, watching Draco nod convulsively.
“Gin,” Harry began.
“What?”
“Are you a witch?”
“I thought you knew that!”
“No, I mean, did you do something to us? To me, and Malfoy?”
“Not a thing. Although…” She walked the three steps to Draco, took his wand from his unresisting hand, and raised up on tiptoe to lick his earlobe ever so gently, the space between her nose and his ear appearing to Harry to shimmer as a mirage, and suddenly he found himself over there as well.
Draco looked him steadily in the eye, blinking only when Ginny bit the same earlobe, tugging gently, and Harry found himself wanting to garner the same response. He ducked toward Draco’s other ear, nipping and licking hesitantly, Draco more than blinked; he put his arm and cradled Harry’s jaw, pushing him around to kiss his lips, unknowingly echoing Ginny’s actions of the day before.
When Ginny turned her attention from Draco back to Harry, who was lost in the kiss in the first place, he thought he might actually combust, so he pulled away a bit. “Gin?” His voice cracked and he swallowed and tried again. “Gin? You do know if Ron comes back…”
“He won’t.” She help up her wrist and for the first time, despite years of seeing it, Harry realized she wore a wristwatch much like the clock at the Burrow, but for that the locations pointed to seemed mutable; Ron’s currently said “dozing off in Prefects meeting. He realized he had a hand, too, which he didn’t think deeply about just now, and that it said “engaged in threesome, compartment H2, Hogwarts Express.”
“Is that thing always that descriptive?”
“Yep. For instance, I know about the time you and Neville got…”
He did the first thing he thought of to stop the rest of that sentence from coming out of her mouth, copying her own lip-biting technique. Draco leaned back in then, returning the assault of on earlobe, nimble fingers unbuttoning Harry’s collar as anxious lips traced down the cords of his neck. Harry found his own fingers busy, too, working loose the top buttons of Ginny’s collar, stopping, flummoxed, at the collar of her jumper, tracing down her front to pull the hem up, untuck the shirt underneath, touch soft skin of her belly beneath that. He felt Ginny’s hands also, helping Draco with Harry’s shirt, working at Draco’s; then simultaneously all three of them broke loose to drag jumpers over flushed faces and fall back together, pale, freckled and rosy skin intertwined, fingers now working at buckles and zips, until they were forced to break apart once more to get trousers past loafers. They collapsed into a feverish pile on the floor of the compartment, breathing heavily, Draco with one shoe and trouser leg still on, Ginny wearing only an elastic in her hair.
Harry, stripped but for eyeliner and socks, rolled onto his back, letting Draco follow, leaning over him, tracing unpatterned badges on his chest with wet lips and hard gentle teeth. Ginny worked her way down his belly, stopping to nip at the crest of one sharp hipbone before following the crease of hip and thigh between his legs, still biting hard enough to make Harry want to tell her to stop except he was afraid she might and that would be intolerable. “Gin!” he panted.
She looked up, breath whispering on his balls, poised to nip at sensitive skin there too.
“Gentle. Did you.” She didn’t bite, then, she licked, in one long stroke, starting under underneath, following the seam up up to his cock and up the length of him. “Fuck! Plan?” She grinned and did it again as he ground out, “This?” and Draco, attentive to detail, began working his way down as well, pulling Harry’s leg up and out and out of his way, detouring along his way to dip his tongue into Harry’s navel, which made him jump; to take the head of Harry’s cock barely between his lips as Ginny began another long stroke; to continue down onto the back of the upraised thigh and back up, nipping again now. Harry heard himself speaking again, but couldn’t for the life of him figure out what he was trying to say as heat and sound coagulated around him and though Ginny didn’t answer, he found he didn’t care, as long as neither of them stopped doing that.
When the world stopped spinning and he heard himself breathing hard, felt the rumbling rough tremor of the train’s movement in the carpet under his shoulders and warm shivering inside the skin just grazing his sensitive nipples, saw brilliant blond and sharp-bright red hair hanging loose above his chest. Draco and Ginny were kissing across him, Draco, he realized suddenly, pressing hard into his thigh, and Ginny, he realized even more abruptly, doing the same, straddling his near thigh. He reached off to the side, unnoticed by his busy companions, and found his abandoned wand, and whispered a lubrication spell he was relieved to get right, having learned it silently from a magazine under Ron’s mattress. He leaned up then, and whispered in Draco’s ear, gently, until he broke away from Ginny and turned to stare. He turned then and whispered in Ginny’s ear before she turned to glare, and a the glint in her eyes, he nodded and reached for Draco’s cock, sliding oily fingers over smooth flesh, feeling his own cock stiffening once more. Ginny watched, barely breathing in starts and stops, as he whispered the spell again, wand pointing to Draco’s waiting palm, then dropped the wand and in a startling swift motion flipped her over on her hands and knees and drove into her, sliding into warm wet in one sharp push. Immediately he felt Draco’s oiled fingers pressing into him and he moved faster, bucked as two fingers slid and pulled and were joined by a third, and then Draco was behind him, inside him, hard and full full full and he felt things spinning once more, reaching for delirium.
They all hit the floor together once more, gasping and panting and shaking, and Harry rose quivering to his knees and took each of Draco’s legs in turn, folding at the hip, stretching the lovely muscles that formed his buttocks and the backs of his thighs, eliciting a pained, wonderful, wondering groan with the first and a flat-out purr with the other. Draco rolled to his knees and did the same for Ginny as Harry collapsed back to the floor, and Ginny, catching the thread, tried to push one of Harry’s long legs up the same way. Her slight weight and stature made this difficult and in the end, Draco had to help, but in a short minute all three of them were curled together, utterly relaxed, on the floor of the compartment.
“Gin?” Harry mumbled, low.
“What?”
“Did you? Plan this?”
“Him? No. You? Absolutely.”
“Are we doing this again? It might kill me, but fuck, what a way to go.”
“I should say,” Draco put in. “Who wouldn’t want to go wrapped around a Malfoy?”
“Next time, your turn, beautiful.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“Don’t you have a meeting to go to?”
“Optional. Malfoys don’t go to noncompulsory events.”
“Oh? So where were you heading when you stopped?”
“Oh. Looking for you. It would appear Miss Weasley and I-what?”
Ginny giggled. “Possibly we no longer need hold to formality, Master Malfoy.”
“Good breeding is always worth showing. As I was saying. Miss…Ginny and I apparently had the same plan. Although this, I must say,” he said, tracing the remaining smudged eye makeup, "was a stroke of unbelievably hot genius."
"Thank you," Ginny and Harry both said, then laughed.
Harry turned to Draco. "Really? When did this happen?"
"I don't know. It just...did."
“Right.”
“Right.” Harry wasn't sure what he was agreeing to, but with every muscle and tendon limp and sated, agreeing felt entirely perfect. “So, are we doing it again, then?” he repeated.
Ginny and Draco looked across him and nodded in unison. “Definitely.”
Rating: Oh, NC17, decidedly
PairTripling: Harry/Ginny/Draco
A/N: ~3400 words. This is a fic I forgot I said I'd write for rikibeth a couple of weeks ago (sorry!), after I griped about a colleague asking me to ship them something anything (to use in training; they wanted work documentation...but my mind went to the bad bad place). She asked for Harry/Draco/Ginny, involving eyeliner.
This has been run through spellcheck and looked at by my eyeballs, but feel free to point out leftover stupidos.
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Determined
It was odd, being at the Burrow without Ron. Arthur had dragged his youngest son-the only one still at home and thus the only one he could credibly compel-off to some event at which Muggle hardware would be abundant. Harry, ‘home’ for Christmas as tensions rose in his seventh year, hadn’t been able to go per Dumbledore’s rules, and Ginny had begged off-“Cramps, Dad.”
Harry hadn’t wanted to know that, but as soon as Arthur was out of earshot, she’d turned and winked at Harry. “Works every time.”
“You mean you’re not, you’re. Um.” Harry turned very nearly purple. “Do not even answer what I just didn’t ask.”
Ginny giggled at him. “You’d think with seven kids he’d be more comfortable with…oh, fine, Harry. It’s just biology, though.”
“Biology? Wizards don’t study biology.”
She raised one red-gold eyebrow at him. “No? Witches do.” She tipped her head and let her eyes run sidelong down his body, snickering as he squirmed. “Merlin, Harry. You need to get…”
“We’re not talking about this. We’re not. I’m not discussing…biology with my best mate’s baby sister.”
She just shook her head. “See? What am I telling you. Biology. Younger sister? Yep. Baby? Not so much, baby.” She stuck out her tongue at that last and disappeared up the stairs.
Five minutes later Molly found Harry sitting alone, doing nothing in particular, in the sitting room. “Wasn’t Ginny entertaining you, dear?”
“I’m fine, Mrs. Weasley.”
“Molly! Or Mum. Enough with the missus.” Molly smiled gently, then turned and bellowed up the stairs. “GINNY! You were to entertain Harry!”
“I’m fine, real-“
“Be right down!”
“All right then. See that you do.” Molly turned back to Harry. “She’ll be right back down. Will you be all right alone for a moment?”
Harry wasn’t sure when he’d been declared legally incompetent, so he just nodded and watched her bustle back out into the yard where she was degnoming enthusiastically.
Thirty seconds later, Ginny reappeared, carrying a box and looking rather…odd.
“What happened to you?”
“Idiot. This is half my face.” She gestured at her face. “Other half’s still in the box.”
“Huh?”
“Honestly! Box of makeup. Doesn’t go on by magic, you know. Well, it can, permanently, but for day to day use, by hand is a better idea. So apparently you aren’t to be left alone.” She plunked back down on the couch and picked a slim pencil out of the box, pulling at the lower corner of one eye with her left ring finger and sticking her tongue out in concentration as she drew a delicate line under that eye.
Harry snickered. “Yes, evidently your mother believes I shall simply expire if left to my own devices. Here, what on earth is that?”
Ginny waved the vaguely-scissorlike device at him. “Eyelash curler.”
Harry winced. “Doesn’t that hurt?”
“Haven’t you ever seen a girl put on makeup before?”
“Well…no. Hermione doesn’t exactly, and then what, I should have ogled my Aunt Petunia at six in the morning?”
“Ah, right then. Here. Let me show you. No, it doesn’t hurt. I swear.”
Harry was too busy trying to figure out where to put his hands as Ginny landed in his lap to get around to protesting abuse to his lashes. She had his glasses off and his eyelashes entrapped before he located an area that was not thigh or bum or belly, and then he thought it possibly unwise to jerk away while she had his eyelashes in the grip of that medieval-looking vise. She wriggled a bit to get to the other eye, and once again Harry was too distracted, this time by the fairly predictable response to Ginny’s bum, which, discussing biology or not, he had in fact noticed was damn fine, sliding about in his lap, and by the time he recovered she was leaning back and examining critically. Then she twisted round and grabbed the box. “Sit still.”
“May I, um, have my glasses back?”
“Nope.” She put them away from him, where he couldn’t reach without leaning into her.
“What are you doing?”
“Harry, you have beautiful eyelashes, for which I would kill or at least maim. I’m just, here. No, look up.”
“Gin!” He batted her hand away, willing his cock to shut up already as she giggled, shaking, in his lap. “Boys don’t wear makeup!”
“Sure they do. And you definitely…just shut it and let me do this, and then we can go wash it off if you hate it.”
Harry sighed. “Fine.” Anything to get her off his lap before she noticed. He looked up.
“Damn, Harry,” she said when she finished. “Come here.” She slipped off his lap and scooped up his glasses and led him to the first-floor washroom.”
He looked at his reflection in the mirror, six inches from the glass to see, then with his glasses framing his already huge black-line eyes. He raised his eyebrows and turned to grin at Ginny. “See? I told you. Boys don’t wear makeup. I look ridiculous.”
“Wrong! You look fucking hot.”
“Gin!” Harry stepped back as she leaned toward him, bumping into the into the sink at the tops of his thighs, stopping abruptly as she continued forward. “You! I! We!”
She put a hand on his belly, which caused his cock to start thinking lewd thoughts once again, and smirked up at him. He’d somehow never noticed her usage of the full range of twins expressions, such as this one, which meant something like, don’t you tell me I can’t because I damn well will and it’s fucking funny that you think otherwise. “We?” She stood on tiptoe and nipped at his lower lip. “Hot, I’m telling you.” The hand on his belly moved, curved around his ribs, and when she bit down gently a second time he leaned into her, let her draw his lip into her mouth, shuddering as she suckled, ran her tongue along the inner edge, pulled it into her mouth and let it slide away before recapturing it. As her attention moved along his jawline, to one flexible sensitive earlobe, he fought a brief fierce battle with himself; “this is Ron’s baby sister!” lost badly to the argument mustered by his cock and ear, working in concert: “Warmfuckummneckthroatwetwarmfuckfuckhot.” He bent at the neck then, to nip at her ear in return, enjoying the shiver that traveled up her body, which had been encircled by his arms when he wasn’t looking. After a moment, she pulled away and grinned up at him.
“What?” he asked, feeling slightly stupid.
“First, you were hot before, with the eyes. Now you’re all swelly and flushed. Positively shaggable.”
Harry swallowed convulsively. Not-so-little Ginny Weasley didn’t say words like that. Did she? To him? And, er, mean them? But she was still talking.
“And I suggest we either go play Exploding Snap upstairs, or go somewhere else, because it’s possible Mum wouldn’t approve of us fucking on her washroom floor.”
All right, Harry thought, that word was even more…problematic. “Exploding…Snap?” He managed.
She smirked. “Don’t know about you, Har, but explosive is a good word for…”
He groaned. “As if she’d approve of us…upstairs.”
“Yes, but it would take her longer to find us.”
“Fuck.”
“Why Harry Potter. Are you propositioning me?”
“N-no.” He told his cock, now dripping wet onto his underpants, to sod off.
“No?”
“No.” He almost managed to say it firmly, this time. “No. Much as…it is her house.”
Ginny grinned in a manner that was entirely evil, but did back off. Harry watched her leave the room, winking cheekily at him as she crossed the threshold, and took a deep breath.
Well before Ron and Arthur returned, Harry had convinced Molly he’d be fine for a while reading upstairs, and Ginny had been hauled off to help in the garden. There was a somewhat frantically active three-minute delay before any reading actually commenced, but by the time they got there, he was absorbed in a lengthy treatise on construction of defensive charms-Hermione would be pleased; he was actually finding the topic interesting.
“Harry!” Ron said as he bounced into the room, doing a double-take at Harry’s face, “Are you…wearing makeup?”
“Ron. You left me here with your little sister? What did you suppose we’d do while you were gone?”
Ginny poked her head into the room on passing. “Yeah, you great oaf. You figured we’d spend the afternoon shagging in the downstairs loo?” Harry nearly choked to death on the frog Ron has just given him; fortunately, Ron took this as a sign of the unlikelihood of Ginny’s question representing an actual possibility. By the time Harry regained normal breathing patterns, face scarlet, eyes tearing and running the remaining makeup away, Ginny had disappeared.
“Well. At least it suits you, mate.” Harry stared at him. “What? The year before I left for school, when it was just the two of us here, Merlin, did she ever make me sit through tea parties, complete with dress-up and, uh, that eye paint stuff. Damn near every sodding day.” Ron rolled his eyes. “But you just look like one of those Muggle rock stars in that shit.”
“Uhm…thanks. I think.”
--
They got to the train early, and nearly immediately Hermione and Ron went off to join the other Prefects, Ron complaining all the while, as the meeting was not mandatory. Hermione was insistent, though, and off they went. They’d been gone just seconds before Ginny popped up off her seat and joined Harry, crossing her left leg across her own body and over his left as well and leaning into him, sitting on her right hip. Her hand trailed down his far thigh, and before she ever got her lips to his earlobe his body notified him of two important things. First, hurried wanking in Ron’s bedroom had not in any way dulled his desires, and second, he was no longer standing in the Weasleys’ home. “Fuck.”
Ginny giggled. “There you go again, propositioning me. But first,” she waggled her eyebrows, “we have to do your eyes again. Hold still.”
He had no idea how she’d got the little makeup parcel in her hand again without him noticing, nor how it was that he was sitting there letting her draw on his face again-although, when he thought about it after the fact, he determined there was a decent chance the fact she was by then straddling him and ever so subtly rocking her hips, pressing on his painfully swollen cock through his baggy denims. might have had something to do with it. This was how Draco found them.
He was walking past, apparently heading for the prefects meeting as well, when he looked into their compartment. He stopped dead, staring, and opened the door before they even realized he was there. “What on earth are you doing to him?”
Ginny leaned back slightly and turned Harry’s face toward Draco. “Sod off, Malfoy,” Harry said, without heat.
Draco just stood there, still, and after a moment, Harry felt for his glasses so he could fairly stare back. “What?”
“You. Look. Mother of fucking Circe.”
“Hot, isn’t he?” Ginny smirked. Harry swatted her bottom, which made Draco groan. Ginny ground into Harry in response, which made him gasp, upon which, Draco shut the door and pulled the blinds. Harry lunged forward and stood, dragging Ginny up with him, her legs wrapped now around his waist. Draco turned back to look at them, gulped audibly, and pointed his wand at the door, muttering a locking spell and taking a single step toward the pair. Ginny arched an eyebrow and dropped one leg to the floor. “Did you…want to join us?” She dropped her other leg, running a hand between herself and Harry, sliding along the length of him, watching Draco nod convulsively.
“Gin,” Harry began.
“What?”
“Are you a witch?”
“I thought you knew that!”
“No, I mean, did you do something to us? To me, and Malfoy?”
“Not a thing. Although…” She walked the three steps to Draco, took his wand from his unresisting hand, and raised up on tiptoe to lick his earlobe ever so gently, the space between her nose and his ear appearing to Harry to shimmer as a mirage, and suddenly he found himself over there as well.
Draco looked him steadily in the eye, blinking only when Ginny bit the same earlobe, tugging gently, and Harry found himself wanting to garner the same response. He ducked toward Draco’s other ear, nipping and licking hesitantly, Draco more than blinked; he put his arm and cradled Harry’s jaw, pushing him around to kiss his lips, unknowingly echoing Ginny’s actions of the day before.
When Ginny turned her attention from Draco back to Harry, who was lost in the kiss in the first place, he thought he might actually combust, so he pulled away a bit. “Gin?” His voice cracked and he swallowed and tried again. “Gin? You do know if Ron comes back…”
“He won’t.” She help up her wrist and for the first time, despite years of seeing it, Harry realized she wore a wristwatch much like the clock at the Burrow, but for that the locations pointed to seemed mutable; Ron’s currently said “dozing off in Prefects meeting. He realized he had a hand, too, which he didn’t think deeply about just now, and that it said “engaged in threesome, compartment H2, Hogwarts Express.”
“Is that thing always that descriptive?”
“Yep. For instance, I know about the time you and Neville got…”
He did the first thing he thought of to stop the rest of that sentence from coming out of her mouth, copying her own lip-biting technique. Draco leaned back in then, returning the assault of on earlobe, nimble fingers unbuttoning Harry’s collar as anxious lips traced down the cords of his neck. Harry found his own fingers busy, too, working loose the top buttons of Ginny’s collar, stopping, flummoxed, at the collar of her jumper, tracing down her front to pull the hem up, untuck the shirt underneath, touch soft skin of her belly beneath that. He felt Ginny’s hands also, helping Draco with Harry’s shirt, working at Draco’s; then simultaneously all three of them broke loose to drag jumpers over flushed faces and fall back together, pale, freckled and rosy skin intertwined, fingers now working at buckles and zips, until they were forced to break apart once more to get trousers past loafers. They collapsed into a feverish pile on the floor of the compartment, breathing heavily, Draco with one shoe and trouser leg still on, Ginny wearing only an elastic in her hair.
Harry, stripped but for eyeliner and socks, rolled onto his back, letting Draco follow, leaning over him, tracing unpatterned badges on his chest with wet lips and hard gentle teeth. Ginny worked her way down his belly, stopping to nip at the crest of one sharp hipbone before following the crease of hip and thigh between his legs, still biting hard enough to make Harry want to tell her to stop except he was afraid she might and that would be intolerable. “Gin!” he panted.
She looked up, breath whispering on his balls, poised to nip at sensitive skin there too.
“Gentle. Did you.” She didn’t bite, then, she licked, in one long stroke, starting under underneath, following the seam up up to his cock and up the length of him. “Fuck! Plan?” She grinned and did it again as he ground out, “This?” and Draco, attentive to detail, began working his way down as well, pulling Harry’s leg up and out and out of his way, detouring along his way to dip his tongue into Harry’s navel, which made him jump; to take the head of Harry’s cock barely between his lips as Ginny began another long stroke; to continue down onto the back of the upraised thigh and back up, nipping again now. Harry heard himself speaking again, but couldn’t for the life of him figure out what he was trying to say as heat and sound coagulated around him and though Ginny didn’t answer, he found he didn’t care, as long as neither of them stopped doing that.
When the world stopped spinning and he heard himself breathing hard, felt the rumbling rough tremor of the train’s movement in the carpet under his shoulders and warm shivering inside the skin just grazing his sensitive nipples, saw brilliant blond and sharp-bright red hair hanging loose above his chest. Draco and Ginny were kissing across him, Draco, he realized suddenly, pressing hard into his thigh, and Ginny, he realized even more abruptly, doing the same, straddling his near thigh. He reached off to the side, unnoticed by his busy companions, and found his abandoned wand, and whispered a lubrication spell he was relieved to get right, having learned it silently from a magazine under Ron’s mattress. He leaned up then, and whispered in Draco’s ear, gently, until he broke away from Ginny and turned to stare. He turned then and whispered in Ginny’s ear before she turned to glare, and a the glint in her eyes, he nodded and reached for Draco’s cock, sliding oily fingers over smooth flesh, feeling his own cock stiffening once more. Ginny watched, barely breathing in starts and stops, as he whispered the spell again, wand pointing to Draco’s waiting palm, then dropped the wand and in a startling swift motion flipped her over on her hands and knees and drove into her, sliding into warm wet in one sharp push. Immediately he felt Draco’s oiled fingers pressing into him and he moved faster, bucked as two fingers slid and pulled and were joined by a third, and then Draco was behind him, inside him, hard and full full full and he felt things spinning once more, reaching for delirium.
They all hit the floor together once more, gasping and panting and shaking, and Harry rose quivering to his knees and took each of Draco’s legs in turn, folding at the hip, stretching the lovely muscles that formed his buttocks and the backs of his thighs, eliciting a pained, wonderful, wondering groan with the first and a flat-out purr with the other. Draco rolled to his knees and did the same for Ginny as Harry collapsed back to the floor, and Ginny, catching the thread, tried to push one of Harry’s long legs up the same way. Her slight weight and stature made this difficult and in the end, Draco had to help, but in a short minute all three of them were curled together, utterly relaxed, on the floor of the compartment.
“Gin?” Harry mumbled, low.
“What?”
“Did you? Plan this?”
“Him? No. You? Absolutely.”
“Are we doing this again? It might kill me, but fuck, what a way to go.”
“I should say,” Draco put in. “Who wouldn’t want to go wrapped around a Malfoy?”
“Next time, your turn, beautiful.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“Don’t you have a meeting to go to?”
“Optional. Malfoys don’t go to noncompulsory events.”
“Oh? So where were you heading when you stopped?”
“Oh. Looking for you. It would appear Miss Weasley and I-what?”
Ginny giggled. “Possibly we no longer need hold to formality, Master Malfoy.”
“Good breeding is always worth showing. As I was saying. Miss…Ginny and I apparently had the same plan. Although this, I must say,” he said, tracing the remaining smudged eye makeup, "was a stroke of unbelievably hot genius."
"Thank you," Ginny and Harry both said, then laughed.
Harry turned to Draco. "Really? When did this happen?"
"I don't know. It just...did."
“Right.”
“Right.” Harry wasn't sure what he was agreeing to, but with every muscle and tendon limp and sated, agreeing felt entirely perfect. “So, are we doing it again, then?” he repeated.
Ginny and Draco looked across him and nodded in unison. “Definitely.”