Intervention

I hear them. I can't help but hear them even though they are trying to keep their voices down. I don't say anything, just bring the bottle to my lips again.

"We can't let him do it," a female voice says. I think it is Hermione – the words hold the same tone as when she would berate me for lax homework.

Not that it matters anymore. Harry Potter did his duty and defeated Voldemort. What do I get for it? All the Firewhiskey I can drink when I lift my fringe.

Ungrateful bastards. The whole lot of the wizarding world are ungrateful bastards. I raise the bottle in mocking toast, then take a drink.

"I know you mean well, but are you sure this is the way to do it?" another female voice worries. It must be Ginny. She and Hermione have been skulking about me for a week, cleaning up after me and making sure that when I pass out on the sofa I have a blanket over me.

As if that makes a difference anymore. How can it?

Hermione sounds determined when she speaks again. Merlin help us when Hermione is on a crusade. "It's the only way I can think of that we haven't tried."

Then silence.

Silence isn't all that unusual for Grimmauld Place now that Mrs. Black's portrait has been destroyed and nearly everyone has moved out. In fact, the only ones left are myself, Ginny and Hermione. They don't want to leave me alone, you see, for fear they'd come visit and find that I'd vomited in my sleep and suffocated. A most ignoble end for the Great Harry Potter.

Drink to it! I raise the bottle in toast to myself, then take another drink.

Then I hear it. A moan.

Cocking my head to one side, I listen carefully. I'm not that pissed yet that I imagined it...am I?

Another moan. Female.

I stand quickly enough that the chair falls to the floor with a crash. No one runs to investigate. Dizziness overcomes me and I have to lean over and brace my hands on the table so I don't fall on my arse. Again.

A whimper this time.

What the bloody hell are they doing?

I make my way down the hallway, using the wall for support. If I don't lean against it, I will fall on my arse.

Another moan and a whimper. Two different voices.

No, they can't be. Admittedly, I haven't been the best company but I didn't realize they were...well, that they were...

I can't finish the sentence because I take a look around the doorway into the only ground-floor bedroom and fall on my arse. The whiskey bottle shatters on the floor. For the first time in three months, I don't care that I've just wasted nearly an entire bottle of Firewhiskey.

Not when I have the picture before me.

Both of them are completely starkers.

Holy bloody fucking hell. If I'd known Hermione had a body like that... And Ginny...

Ginny and I had had a few fumbling attempts at sex in the Astronomy Tower – with a few successful tries – but always in the dark. I didn't know she looked like that during the day.

All the blood in my body raced to my lap, making me dizzy even though I was sitting on the floor.

Will they let me watch? Wait...what am I saying? They left the door open, of course they want me to watch.

For the first time since the Final Battle, it was my lucky day.

Ginny lay back on the bed, red hair fanned over the pillow, thighs spread. Between her thighs, Hermione was licking her and sliding two fingers into her.

I should sober myself just to make sure this isn't an illusion. But I don't want to leave the room for fear I'll discover this is a drunken hallucination.

I stare instead, desperately trying to resist the urge to pull off my jeans and stroke myself to the scene before me.

Ginny opens her eyes and turns to me. Fear races through me, fear that they'll kick me out, fear that they will ostracize me.

But then she smiles. It's not a welcoming smile, but a seductive one, a playful one.

"Hermione, we have company," she says with a breathy catch in her voice as Hermione wiggles her fingers.

A disappointed moan escapes me when Hermione pulls away from Ginny to look over at me. Her lips are full and glistening with Ginny's wetness. My moan this time is of desire.

"So we do," Hermione says, smiling. "Come on in, we won't bite."

"Unless you want us to," Ginny adds wickedly.

I crawl across the floor, eliciting a laugh from Ginny. She turns to Hermione and says in a loud whisper, "Maybe he will want us to bite."

Hermione's smile turns playful. "He does seem quite subservient, doesn't he?"

I'll let them play their game if it means I'm included in this. I kneel on the floor beside the bed with what feels like all the blood in my body hardening my cock.

"Stand up and strip for us," Hermione orders, wiggling her fingers once again and making Ginny moan deliciously.

I stand, wavering from lightheadedness and drunkenness. I pull my t-shirt off over my head, then begin to unbutton my jeans.

"Slowly," Ginny demands. "I want to savor it."

Looking up, I can see that her eyes are almost black with arousal. Hermione's are an amber color and lit brightly. Hermione licks her lips.

I groan. If they keep this up, they'll have to banish my jeans because I won't be able to pull them over my cock. Feeling very much like a filet mignon in a sea of ground beef under their watchful gaze, I continue to unbutton my jeans. When I part them and peel them down my legs, both women groan.

I reckon they didn't know I wasn't wearing pants. I kick my jeans away and straighten up. Grinning, I prop my hands on my hips.

Hermione studies me, then looks up at Ginny. "I want him first," she growls, staking claim and stroking her fingers inside Ginny once more.

Ginny moans, arching her back, pushing back against those fingers. "Okay," she replies breathlessly. Hermione moves her other hand to Ginny's cleft, teasing her even as the other hand strokes her. Ginny mewls piteously, writhing.

It's a wonder I can stand straight with the blood rushing to my cock. Then Hermione turns to me, smiling ferally.

"I want you, Harry," she says, voice low. "Now."

Who am I to argue with that?

I move behind Hermione, then kneel, grasping her hips.

For the first time since June, I don't feel like I need whiskey in my hand to help me through the day. I don't feel like Hermione or Ginny is smothering me, in kindness as much as anything else.

Of course they aren't, Potter. They want a threesome with you, they're not going to mother you right now. They want to use you.

I slide the head of my cock against Hermione. She's wet, very wet. We both moan. I never thought I'd be doing this with my best friend – or my other best friend's sister – but I'm not complaining.

Hermione suddenly drives downward, encasing me in her wet warmth. "That's what I want," she growls at me.

I drop my head to the back of her neck, panting already, as I begin thrusting into her. Ginny is making those mewling noises again. Looking over Hermione's shoulder, I see that Hermione his now licking Ginny once again.

I bite the back of Hermione's neck. She shivers and her walls clench tightly around me, then pulls away from Ginny long enough to whisper, "More."

Even if this is hell, I hope never to leave.

I nip at the back of Hermione's neck and over her shoulders, making her moan and writhe between Ginny and I. One more bite and she comes undone, driving down against me, muttering almost incoherently.

Ginny doesn't give me time to catch my breath before removing Hermione's fingers from herself, then moving Hermione off me. She pushes me back onto the floor then impales herself on me.

"My turn, Hermione," she murmurs, riding me. As I said, I'm not complaining.

Hermione merely smiles, then kisses me. Her lips are wet with Ginny's slightly bitter, smooth taste; even the inside of her mouth as I coax it open to sweep my tongue through tastes like Ginny. Then, as Hermione continues to ravage my mouth, I taste Hermione, cinnamon and chamomile tea flavor.

Ginny takes the opportunity to rake her fingernails down my chest. When I tremble and moan – especially after she snags one of my nipples – she laughs, a low, wicked laugh, and does it again.

Hermione pulls her mouth from mine, kissing her way down my chest until she reaches my nipples. Using her tongue, she toys with one as she pinches the other. Ginny clenches around my cock.

"You're driving me mad," I whisper harshly. It doesn't matter which one of them I'm talking to, both are at fault. Ginny merely smiles; Hermione laughs.

Then Hermione releases me and pulls Ginny's mouth to hers for a deep kiss. It makes Ginny tremble and clench around me. And watching them kiss is one of the most erotic things I've ever seen. Hermione's right hand is tangled in Ginny's red hair, her left kneading Ginny's breast.

Ginny pulls Hermione's head to one side, breaking the kiss to whisper in her ear. I'm not sure if I should worry or not when Hermione laughs again.

I decide once again that I don't care when Hermione straddles my face, facing Ginny, lowering herself over my mouth. My hands move up to Hermione's thighs of their own accord, trying to hold her still so I can feast upon her.

Arousal is thundering through me. I hope I hold out long enough for these two.

I thrust my tongue inside Hermione as she bends to suckle on Ginny's breasts.

Every male fantasy. And they're mine. These two want me. They want to use me and I'm willing to let them.

That – and Ginny's whimper as Hermione suckles with the accompanying clenching around my cock – drive me over the edge. I pull my face away from Hermione to gasp and thrust hard up into Ginny, groaning as I do.

Ginny doesn't move, just clenches tightly around me, holding me inside her. "You're not done yet, Harry," she barks at me.

Licking my lips, I shiver. "Yes, ma'am." Then thrust my tongue into Hermione again.

Hermione snakes one hand down Ginny's body, because I can feel the backs of her fingers against me as she begins to stroke Ginny once again. I try to time the movements of my tongue to the movement of Hermione's fingers against Ginny.

The sound of feminine whimpers is music to my ears. Even though I came, I haven't gone soft – oh the joy of being eighteen – and begin thrusting softly inside Ginny.

They both begin trembling, Ginny first, then Hermione. Ginny grabs a fistful of Hermione's hair and pulls her head back. Before Hermione can right herself, I see a flash of red hair about chest-level, then Hermione moans and trembles.

Moaning wildly now, Ginny pauses suckling Hermione long enough to slam herself onto me several times in quick succession, driving herself to climax. She drenches me as she comes, leaving my cock slick and hard.

Even if Voldemort were resurrected, I couldn't move right now.

Ginny tackles Hermione to the floor, holding her head still between her hands and ravaging her mouth. I turn over and, lying on my stomach, continue my ministrations between Hermione's thighs.

Hermione trembles, then moves her mouth away from Ginny's to order me inside her. Ginny growls and captures her mouth again.

I grin and move up. Hermione locks her legs around my waist, heels on my arse, and pulls me inside her.

I never saw Hermione as a sexual creature before. Damned if I won't think of her after tonight. And I didn't know Ginny could be that forceful.

Groaning, I grab Hermione's hips and drive myself into her, sinking into her wetness. Heat pierces me when she clenches tightly around me, milking me. It doesn't help my sanity when Ginny moves to Hermione's breasts, suckling them.

Of their own accord, my hips piston against Hermione, skin slapping on skin. Now that her mouth is free, she urges me on, her voice dark and dirty.

This time when I come, I empty myself into Hermione, groaning her name and Ginny's, then collapse beside them. Soft and spent, I feel sated. The shadows of three months ago vanished for one night.

I turn onto my side and prop my head in one hand, watching Hermione and Ginny. Ginny has moved over Hermione in a 69 position, allowing Hermione to lick between her thighs even as she moves her head between Hermione's thighs.

I want to be hard again, I want to be part of this for as long as it takes until they come to their senses. But the alcohol I've consumed will not allow that. I have to be content to watch.

Ginny drives Hermione over the edge first and I watch her writhe and tremble underneath Ginny. Smiling, Ginny braces her arms on the floor, giving Hermione a slightly different angle. That, apparently, is enough. Ginny trembles and screams her climax, then falls to the floor between Hermione and I.

We are silent for a long time. I think the two of them are merely recovering. I am bemoaning the alcohol I drank.

If you'd known they were going to invite you for a threesome tonight, you wouldn't have touched a drop.

Hermione props herself up on one elbow, the posture a mirror of mine. She smiles at Ginny, then gives me a stern look.

"Harry," she begins. "You can't keep drinking like you want an early grave."

"But –" I protest.

She interrupts. "He's dead, Harry. No matter how much we want it different, he's dead."

How could she be so blunt about it?

A fine panic worms through me. I desperately want a drink. Falling onto my back, I stare up at the ceiling.

Ginny crawls over me, licking her way up my leg until she settles between them, nudging my thighs apart. I groan appreciatively and drive my hands into her hair to hold her there.

Hermione grabs my head, forcing me to look at her. "Ron is dead and you drinking yourself to death won't change that." Then she thrust her tongue into my mouth.

One year later we are still together. Hermione is the logical part of us, forcing me to stop blaming myself for everything. Ginny is the sensual part of us, not blaming me for her brother's death and finding solace in both of us. I...I guess I'm the muscle.