Chapter 2: Breaking Boundaries

Warning - Explicit Content Ahead!

By: KioSpice

Harry's eyes were still bleary from sleep, but there was no mistaking what he saw. Hermione, her skin flushed, standing there with Ron, their clothes disheveled, her jumper already tossed aside. The sight struck him like a curse, freezing him in place for a moment, the confusion of waking up from a nightmare quickly giving way to a different kind of confusion. His chest tightened, not from fear, but from something deeper, something more primal.

His first instinct was to look away, to turn his head and pretend he hadn't seen anything, but the tension in the air kept him anchored. There was a thick, unspoken pull between them, something that felt both foreign and familiar. He had felt this before—the closeness, the need for connection—but he'd always pushed it down. Always told himself it wasn't the right time, wasn't the right situation. After all, they were at war. They couldn't afford distractions like this.

But now, with Hermione and Ron standing before him, so close, their bodies almost trembling with the weight of what had just happened and what was about to happen, Harry felt something stir inside him. A need. A desire. Not just for them, but for everything they represented—for the bond they shared, for the closeness that had always been just out of reach.

Ron's eyes flickered to Harry's, and for a second, the two of them just stared at each other. There was no anger, no jealousy—just understanding. Something had shifted between the three of them, something that the Horcrux had brought to the surface, but which had always been there, lurking underneath their friendship.

"Harry..." Hermione's voice was soft, almost hesitant, as she turned to face him fully. Her lips were still swollen from Ron's kiss, her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. She didn't say anything else. She didn't need to. Her eyes told him everything.

This was happening. This was real.

Harry's throat was dry, his pulse hammering in his ears as he sat up slowly, his fingers curling around the edge of the cot. His head was swimming, still fogged with the remnants of his nightmare, but his body—his body was already responding to the tension in the air, to the sight of Ron and Hermione so close, so exposed.

"Mate," Ron said, his voice low, almost gravelly, as if the words were pulled from somewhere deep inside. He stepped back slightly, giving Harry a look that was equal parts invitation and challenge. There was something unspoken in his expression, something Harry recognized from years of friendship, of shared battles and silent conversations.

Without thinking, Harry stood, his legs unsteady as he crossed the short distance between them. His hand reached out, hesitating for a fraction of a second before brushing against Hermione's arm. Her skin was warm, her body trembling under his touch, and the feeling sent a jolt through him, like electricity racing down his spine.

Ron watched, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, his eyes never leaving Harry's face. There was no turning back now. The three of them stood there, the space between them shrinking, the air growing thicker with each passing second.

Hermione swallowed, her gaze darting between the two boys, and then she reached up, her fingers trailing over Harry's chest, her touch light but insistent. Her hand trembled slightly, as if she, too, was unsure of what came next, but the Horcrux's influence was still there, whispering dark promises, feeding the hunger inside them all.

Harry's hand slid up her arm, tracing the curve of her neck before coming to rest against her collarbone. The necklace—the cursed locket—pulsed beneath his fingers, cold and metallic, but he didn't pull back. Instead, his other hand moved to the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head in one fluid motion. The cool night air hit his skin, sending a shiver down his spine, but it wasn't the cold that made his heart race. It was the way Hermione was looking at him, her eyes wide, her lips parted slightly as she took him in.

Ron was the next to move, his hands already working at the buttons of his shirt, yanking it open and tossing it aside with a kind of careless urgency. His gaze flicked to Hermione, then to Harry, and for a moment, the three of them just stood there, half-dressed, half-exposed, teetering on the edge of something they couldn't come back from.

"Harry," Hermione whispered again, her voice softer this time, almost pleading. Her fingers reached out, grazing over his bare chest, and then she was pulling him closer, her body pressed against his, her breath hot against his neck. Her hands slid lower, tugging at the waistband of his trousers, and Harry could feel the heat rising between them, the weight of her need, her want.

Ron stepped forward, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts, his hand resting on Hermione's waist, his fingers brushing against Harry's arm. The three of them moved together as if drawn by an invisible force, their bodies pressed against each other, their breaths mingling in the cool night air.

Hermione's hands worked quickly, slipping beneath Harry's waistband, tugging at the fabric until his trousers slid down his legs, pooling at his feet. The feel of her hands on his skin sent a shockwave through him, and he let out a soft gasp, his hands moving to her waist, fingers gripping her firmly as the last barrier between them fell away.

Ron was already pulling at his own trousers, his movements fast and desperate, and soon all three of them stood together, completely bare, their skin flush with heat, the night air swirling around them like a cold breath. But none of them felt it. The fire that burned between them was too strong, too consuming.

Harry's hands slid down Hermione's back, his fingers tracing the curve of her spine as she pressed herself against him. Ron's hand found hers, their fingers lacing together as he moved closer, his body pressing against hers from behind. The three of them stood there, a tangle of limbs and heat, their breaths coming in short, sharp bursts, their hearts pounding in time with each other.

Harry's lips found Hermione's neck, brushing against her skin as he kissed her, soft at first, but with growing urgency. Ron's hands moved lower, his fingers skimming over her hips, and Hermione let out a soft moan, her body trembling between them.

The night was quiet except for the sound of their breathing, the soft rustle of the tent canvas as they shifted, the crackle of the fire in the distance. There was no Voldemort here, no war, no danger—only the three of them, wrapped in each other, lost in the moment.

Harry's hand slid lower, his fingers brushing against Hermione's inner thigh, and she let out a sharp breath, her body arching between him and Ron. Her skin was warm, slick with sweat from the fire and the heat building inside her, and Harry's touch sent shivers racing down her spine. His lips trailed along her neck, his breath hot against her ear, and Hermione's pulse quickened, her body reacting instinctively to every sensation.

Ron's hands gripped her hips tighter, pulling her back against him, and she could feel the hardness of his body pressing into her. He kissed the back of her neck, soft at first, but then his teeth grazed her skin, sending a shockwave of pleasure through her. Hermione's breath hitched, her hands clutching at Harry's arms, holding on as the sensations overwhelmed her.

It was as if the three of them had been waiting for this moment for years—like something that had always been there, simmering beneath the surface, had finally been unleashed. The Horcrux's influence had torn down the walls they'd built around themselves, the barriers that had kept them from crossing this line, and now there was nothing holding them back.

Harry's hand moved higher, slipping between Hermione's legs, his fingers brushing against her in a way that made her gasp, her head falling back onto Ron's shoulder. She was trapped between them, their bodies pressed so close to hers that she could barely think, barely breathe, and she didn't want to. All she wanted was this—this feeling, this connection, this release.

Ron's hands slid up her sides, his fingers grazing the underside of her breasts, and she let out a soft moan, her body trembling in their arms. His lips found her ear, his breath hot and ragged as he whispered her name, and the sound of it sent a jolt of pleasure through her.

Harry's fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, and Hermione's hips bucked involuntarily, her body responding to every touch, every kiss. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, and her hands gripped his arms tighter, nails digging into his skin as she tried to ground herself in the overwhelming sensations.

She turned her head, her lips finding Ron's in a desperate kiss, her body pressing back against him as Harry's fingers quickened their pace. The tension inside her was building, rising higher and higher, until she thought she might shatter under the weight of it. But she didn't want to stop. She didn't want to think. She didn't want to be Hermione Granger, the smartest witch of her age, the girl with all the answers. She just wanted to feel.

Ron's hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples, and Hermione let out a strangled moan, her head spinning. She broke the kiss, her breath coming in ragged gasps, and turned back to Harry, her lips crashing against his with a kind of desperation that felt almost primal.

Harry kissed her back just as fiercely, his free hand gripping her waist, pulling her closer, until their bodies were pressed so tightly together that she could feel every inch of him against her. His fingers never stopped moving, drawing her closer and closer to the edge, and Hermione's body trembled, her legs threatening to give out beneath her.

Ron's hands slid down her body again, gripping her hips as he pressed himself against her, his breath hot against the back of her neck. His voice was low, rough with need, as he whispered, "Hermione..." and the sound of it sent a thrill through her.

She was on fire, every nerve in her body alive with sensation, and she could feel the tension inside her building to a breaking point, rising higher and higher with every touch, every kiss, every breath.

And then Harry's fingers pressed just a little harder, just a little faster, and everything inside her shattered.

Hermione cried out, her body convulsing between them, her legs giving way as the pleasure crashed over her in waves. She would have fallen if it hadn't been for their arms around her, holding her up, grounding her as her body trembled with the force of her release.

Ron's lips were on her neck again, kissing her softly as she rode out the last of the pleasure, and Harry's hands gently pulled back, his fingers trailing over her skin in a way that sent aftershocks of pleasure racing through her.

Hermione's head fell back against Ron's shoulder, her body spent, her mind spinning, and for a moment, she just let herself exist in the warmth of their embrace, the weight of their bodies pressed against hers. She didn't want to think about what this meant, about how everything had changed. Not yet. Right now, she just wanted to feel.

But the moment didn't last.

Harry's breath was ragged, his chest rising and falling as he stared at her, his green eyes dark with desire. His hands slid down her body, resting on her hips, and for a moment, they just looked at each other, the air between them thick with unspoken tension.

Then, without a word, Harry moved closer, his lips finding hers in a kiss that was softer this time, slower, but no less intense. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her down onto the cot with him, and Hermione followed without hesitation, her body still humming with the remnants of her release.

Ron followed, his hands never leaving her skin, his breath hot against her back as he pressed himself against her, his desire evident in every movement, every touch.

The three of them tangled together, their limbs intertwining as they kissed and touched and explored each other's bodies, the fire outside their tent crackling softly in the background. There was no hesitation now, no second-guessing. The line had been crossed, and there was no going back.

Hermione's fingers found the waistband of Harry's trousers, tugging them down as her lips moved over his chest, tasting the salt of his skin. He groaned softly, his hands sliding down her back, and she could feel the heat of his body pressing against hers, the tension between them building once again.

Ron's hands moved lower, his fingers brushing against Hermione's thighs as his breath quickened. His touch was more insistent now, his desire palpable, and Hermione arched into it, her body responding to the heat radiating from both of them. She could feel the tension building again, a heady mix of need and want that coursed through her veins, making her head spin.

Harry groaned softly beneath her, his body shifting as she tugged his trousers down, her fingers brushing against his skin as she peeled the fabric away. His muscles tensed under her touch, his breathing uneven, and for a moment, Hermione's focus was entirely on him—on the way his body responded to her, the way his hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer, as if he couldn't bear to have any space between them.

But then Ron's hands slid up her thighs, and Hermione's attention split, her mind barely able to keep up with the sensations flooding her. Her breath hitched as Ron's fingers found her again, teasing and gentle at first, but quickly becoming more demanding. His lips brushed against the back of her neck, and she shivered, her body trembling between them.

She wasn't sure how long they stayed like that—her, sandwiched between Ron and Harry, the three of them moving together in perfect, unspoken rhythm. Time seemed to blur, the outside world fading away as they lost themselves in each other. Every touch, every kiss, every moan felt like it was driving them closer and closer to the edge, the tension between them building to a fever pitch.

Harry's hands roamed over her body, exploring every inch of her skin, his touch both tender and hungry. His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her down for another kiss, and Hermione melted into him, her lips parting to let him in. His kiss was deep, consuming, and she moaned into it, her body pressing harder against him, desperate for more.

Behind her, Ron's hands never stopped moving, his fingers sliding over her skin in a way that made her head spin. He was relentless, his touch setting her on fire, and she could feel him pressing closer, his breath hot and ragged against her neck.

And then, all at once, it wasn't just touching anymore.

Hermione gasped as Ron entered her, the sudden sensation overwhelming. Her body tightened around him, her breath catching in her throat as she adjusted to the feeling of him inside her. It was too much, too intense, and yet it wasn't enough. She wanted more. Needed more.

Ron's hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he moved, slow at first but quickly picking up speed, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. His lips were on her neck again, kissing, biting, and Hermione moaned, her head spinning with the intensity of it all.

Harry's eyes were dark with desire as he watched them, his hands gripping her waist, pulling her closer. His breath was hot against her skin as he kissed her again, his lips moving down her neck, his hands sliding over her breasts, teasing her nipples until she was gasping for breath.

The three of them moved together, their bodies slick with sweat, their breaths mingling as the air around them seemed to crackle with heat. The tension was unbearable now, the need between them so thick that it felt like it was going to suffocate her, but Hermione didn't care. She wanted to drown in it, to lose herself completely in the feeling of them.

Ron's thrusts became more urgent, his hands tightening on her hips, and Hermione let out a soft cry, her body trembling as she felt herself nearing the edge again. Her hands clutched at Harry's shoulders, holding on for dear life as her body moved between them, caught in the rhythm they had created together.

Harry's lips found hers once more, his kiss slow and deep, and she could feel his own need building, the tension in his body almost as palpable as her own. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her down onto him, and Hermione let out a sharp gasp as she felt him press against her, his body hard and ready beneath her.

The pleasure was overwhelming now, her senses flooded with the feel of both of them, and she couldn't hold back any longer. Her body tightened, her breath catching in her throat as the waves of pleasure washed over her, her muscles trembling as she rode the high of her release.

Ron groaned behind her, his grip on her tightening as he thrust into her one last time, his body shuddering as he followed her over the edge. His breath was ragged, his lips brushing against her neck as he collapsed against her, his body spent but still clinging to her as if he never wanted to let go.

Hermione barely had time to catch her breath before Harry was pulling her closer, his hands guiding her onto him, and she gasped again as she felt him fill her, the sensation so sudden and intense that it took her breath away.

He moved slowly at first, his hands gripping her hips as he guided her, his body pressing up into hers with every thrust. His lips found hers again, soft and gentle this time, and Hermione melted into the kiss, her body still trembling from her previous release but already building again, the heat between them too strong to ignore.

Ron's hands slid over her back, his fingers brushing against Harry's as the two of them moved together, their bodies perfectly in sync with hers. The sensation of being between them, of having both of them so close, was overwhelming in the best possible way, and Hermione moaned softly, her head spinning with the intensity of it all.

Harry's pace quickened, his movements becoming more urgent, and Hermione could feel the tension building inside her once again, the pleasure rising with every thrust. Her hands clutched at Harry's shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as her body moved in time with his, desperate for release.

And then, with a sharp cry, she found it.

The pleasure crashed over her in waves, her body trembling as she came apart in their arms. She felt Harry shudder beneath her, his breath catching in his throat as he followed her over the edge, his hands gripping her tightly as he found his own release.

For a long moment, the three of them just stayed there, tangled together, their bodies spent and slick with sweat. The world outside the tent was silent, the fire crackling softly in the distance, but inside, everything had changed.

Get the chapter a day early (or get the next two chapters) on our writing group's blog https://fictioneers.thinkific.com/pages/blog.