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by Resonant

The bed moves, and moves again, and there's a soft, moist sound, and Hermione smiles without opening her eyes. That will be Harry and Ron, kissing each other good morning with their usual thoroughness.

The sounds go on as she drifts, only half awake. They sound as though they're serious. She should really wake herself up and join them. Her two and only.

But it's so difficult to let go of sleep. It was long past midnight last night when they dragged her away from her thesis with a very appealing distraction, and she knows she'll have to go right back to the thesis this morning. Just a little more rest, an hour or so more. That's all she needs.

Someone's breath is breaking with a little catch, right beside her ear. She thinks it's Harry, which means Ron is probably licking his ears; everyone likes that, but it makes Harry insane. And if Harry retaliates the way he usually does -- ah, there it is, a half-stifled whimper from Ron that means Harry has grabbed his arse and squeezed.

She's lying half on her stomach, facing them, and if she she opened her eyes, she could watch them. Harry blushes, still. It's almost a good enough incentive, but not quite.

A hiss -- that will be either Ron, if Harry's touching his nipples, or Harry, if Ron has breached the barrier of his pajama bottoms. Really it's interesting how she can't entirely tell who's making what sound. There are patterns, of course, but they're still full of surprises, both of them.

There's a long moment of increasingly focused kissing noises, and then someone whispers, "We've got to stop."

"Would she mind, do you think?" That's Harry; he always defers to Ron as the expert on What Hermione Would Think, which is kind of funny considering how hopelessly ill-informed Ron has always been on the subject. Though he's getting better.

"Dunno," he whispers now. "Mm. No, stop. It seems like cheating, to carry on without her."

"She works so hard." Harry's whisper is louder; he must have turned over to face her. "We should -- oh -- we should wait and let her rest."

With incredible effort, Hermione bestirs herself to open her eyes. Harry's on his side, facing her, his mouth very red the way it gets when he's been kissed. Ron's behind him, pajama top unbuttoned and hanging off one shoulder. He's supporting his head with one hand; the other one is hanging, in a way that only looks casual, over Harry's hip, where a single curl of his long fingers would put Harry's cock in his hand.

"You're awake?" Harry says, sounding hopeful.

"Not really," she murmurs. "Need an hour or so before I can get up and work." She nearly laughs at the dismay on their faces.

Harry's hand is right next to hers on the mattress. She wraps her fingers around it. "You can go on without me," she says, closing her eyes. " 's nice just to listen."

There's a rustle of cloth and a gasp, and Harry's hand tightens on hers. "Oh," he says. "Oh!"

She smiles with her eyes shut. "After breakfast," she says, "you can show me what I missed."














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July 31, 2004