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Harry paced through the Weasleys' apple orchard, each step leaving deeper imprints in the soft soil than a fourteen-year-old boy should make. He ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair, which had grown thicker since Lupin's claws had raked across his chest.
"Bloody hell," he muttered, kicking at a fallen apple. The fruit shot through the air like a bludger, splattering against a tree trunk thirty feet away. "That's just perfect."
His mind replayed Hermione's words from earlier: "Ginny wants to join us. Both of us. Together."
The very thought sent a surge of heat through his body that had nothing to do with the summer temperature. His jeans suddenly felt uncomfortably tight.
"Down, boy," Harry growled at himself with dark humor.
These new instincts were maddening. Part of him—the part that remembered being just Harry, the skinny kid from the cupboard—was horrified at the idea. But another part, the wolf part that now lived under his skin, practically purred at the thought of having both witches.
This isn't normal, he thought. Even by wizarding standards, this has to be weird.
His mind drifted to Emily, her experienced hands and breathless voice. "God, Harry, where did you learn to do that?" He hadn't learned it anywhere—it had been pure instinct. She'd cried when they said goodbye. "I'll miss you, Harry. More than I should."
But with Hermione—that had been different. Every touch had felt like coming home, like finding something he'd been searching for without knowing it.
"Shit!" Harry cursed as he accidentally snapped a low-hanging branch clean off the tree he was passing. He stared at the broken wood in his hand, still not entirely used to his new strength. With a frustrated grunt, he hurled it into the distance.
He closed his eyes, trying to center himself. Taking deep breaths, he focused on categorizing the scents around him: apple blossoms, freshly turned earth, the distant aroma of Mrs. Weasley's cooking, and—
His eyes snapped open, now glowing a faint yellow.
Hermione.
Even from this distance, he could smell her. Parchment and vanilla and something uniquely her. His body responded instantly.
But there was another scent too—flowery, warm, like sunshine on cinnamon. Ginny. She was nearby as well.
Harry leaned against a tree trunk, pressing his forehead to the rough bark.
"Focus, Potter," he hissed to himself. "Think with your upstairs brain."
The full moon was just two days away. He could feel it pulling at him already, making his skin feel too tight, his senses too sharp, his needs too urgent. Every night, his dreams had grown more vivid—dreams of Hermione beneath him, her bushy hair spread across his pillow, but now Ginny had started appearing too, her fiery hair tangled with Hermione's brown curls.
Harry's fist connected with the tree trunk, leaving a small indentation in the bark.
"This isn't just about what I want," he muttered. "It's about what's right for all of us."
He pushed away from the tree, decision made. Talking to them separately would only complicate things. He needed to see them together, to understand if this bizarre proposal could actually work or if it would destroy the best friendship he'd ever had.
"Right then," Harry said with determination, turning back toward the Burrow. "Why is this more difficult than facing the Basilisk?"
As he walked, he couldn't help but grin ruefully. "Never a normal year at Hogwarts," he muttered. "Philosopher's Stone, Chamber of Secrets, escaped convict godfather, and now this. What's next, a bloody dragon?"
Harry found Hermione in the Weasleys' living room, curled up with a massive tome entitled "Partial Transformations: From Animagi to Zoanthropes." Her eyes darted up as he entered, and a faint blush immediately colored her cheeks.
"We need to talk," Harry said quietly, glancing around to ensure no eavesdroppers lurked nearby, especially the Weasley twins. "All three of us. Can you find Ginny and meet me in that clearing in the orchard? The one with the fallen oak."
Hermione's brown eyes widened slightly. "You've decided to—"
"I've decided we need to talk," Harry clarified, keeping his voice even despite the way his heart hammered in his chest. "Properly. Together."
She nodded, marking her place in the book. "I'll find her."
Twenty minutes later, Harry leaned against the massive trunk of a fallen oak tree in the secluded clearing. His enhanced hearing picked up their approach long before they came into view—two sets of footsteps, one brisk (Hermione), the other lighter (Ginny).
When they entered the clearing, the summer sunlight caught Hermione's hair, highlighting hidden strands of gold in her brown curls. Beside her, Ginny's red hair glittered like rubies. Harry swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of how his senses amplified his attraction to both of them.
"Well," Ginny said, breaking the awkward silence with characteristic boldness, "this isn't awkward at all."
Despite himself, Harry snorted with laughter. "Right. Just another normal day at the Burrow. Secret meetings, propositions, potential catastrophic friendship implosions."
"We don't have to do this," Hermione said quietly, though Harry noticed she didn't specify what "this" was—their meeting, or Ginny's proposition.
"Actually, I think we do," Harry responded, gesturing for them to sit on the fallen oak. He remained standing, too restless to settle. "Ignoring it won't make it go away."
Ginny sat down while Hermione perched stiffly beside her, leaving a careful distance between them.
"So," Harry began, running a hand through his hair, "let's be clear about what we're discussing. Ginny has proposed that the three of us... become involved. Together."
"It sounds ridiculous when you say it like that," Ginny said, rolling her eyes, though Harry could smell the nervousness beneath her confident exterior.
"How would you phrase it?" Hermione asked, her academic curiosity seemingly overcoming her embarrassment.
"I'm attracted to Harry—always have been," Ginny said bluntly. "But I'm not blind. I see how you two look at each other. And rather than mope about it or try to compete, I thought... why not explore something different?" She took a breath. "And it's not just about Harry. I've always admired you too, Hermione."
Hermione's eyes widened. "Me?"
"You're brilliant, brave, and frankly gorgeous even if you don't see it," Ginny said, her boldness causing even Harry to blush. "Plus, with Harry's new... condition... maybe traditional relationships aren't the best fit."
Harry frowned slightly. "I'm not some beast who needs multiple partners to be satisfied, Gin."
"That's not what I meant," Ginny replied quickly. "But you're changing, Harry. Your magic is different. Your needs are different. Maybe what satisfies you emotionally and physically might be different too."
Hermione twisted her hands in her lap. "What about Ron? Or your parents? Or everyone at school? People would say horrible things."
"Who says they need to know?" Ginny countered. "It's no one's business but ours."
Harry paced a few steps, gathering his thoughts. "I need to be honest with both of you," he finally said. "Hermione, what we shared... it meant everything to me. It wasn't just physical. But Ginny..." He glanced at the redhead, struggling to articulate feelings he barely understood himself. "I can't deny there's something there too."
"Different, but real," Ginny supplied, and Harry nodded gratefully.
"This is insane," Hermione whispered, but Harry noticed she hadn't actually rejected the idea outright.
"Maybe," Harry acknowledged. "But so is having a partially lycanthropic teenager secretly practicing wandless magic in your orchard. The normal ship sailed a long time ago for all of us."
That earned a small smile from Hermione. Progress.
"We'd need rules," she said after a moment, her practical nature asserting itself. "Boundaries. Expectations. Communication protocols."
Ginny rolled her eyes again. "Of course you'd want to organize even this."
"She's right though," Harry interjected before Hermione could bristle. "This could get complicated fast. We need to be clear about what we're doing."
"And what happens if it doesn't work out?" Hermione asked, voicing the fear that had been gnawing at Harry's insides. "What happens to our friendship then?"
A heavy silence fell over the clearing.
"Maybe," Harry suggested carefully, "we try it once. Just once. See if there's even anything real here to worry about. Maybe it'll be awkward and terrible and we'll all laugh about it someday."
"Or maybe it'll be brilliant," Ginny added softly.
Hermione bit her lip, clearly running through every possible outcome in that magnificent brain of hers. Finally, she looked up, determination replacing uncertainty in her eyes.
"Tonight," she said. "After everyone's asleep. Ron's staying with the twins after losing that chess bet, so Harry's room should be empty."
Harry's eyebrows shot up at her decisiveness. "Are you sure?"
"No," Hermione admitted with a nervous laugh. "But I'm sure I want to find out."
By the time they agreed to meet at midnight, the air between them felt charged.
"Until tonight, then," Ginny said as they prepared to return to the house separately to avoid suspicion.
Harry nodded, suddenly finding his mouth too dry for words.
Hermione stood, brushing off her jeans. Before turning to leave, she caught Harry's eye. "This is absolutely mad, you know that, right?"
"Completely bonkers," Harry agreed with a small smile. "Fitting, really."
As he watched them walk away—Hermione's measured stride and Ginny's lighter step—Harry wondered if he'd just made the best decision of his life or the worst.
Either way, there was no turning back now.
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The Weasley dinner table was its usual chaotic symphony of clattering dishes, overlapping conversations, and the occasional explosion from an experimental product Fred and George had smuggled to the table. Harry sat between Ron and Hermione, with Ginny directly across from him—a seating arrangement that suddenly felt like an exquisite form of torture.
"Pass the potatoes, would you, Harry?" Ron asked through a mouthful of chicken.
Harry reached for the bowl, accidentally brushing Hermione's hand as she reached for it at the same time. The brief contact sent an electric jolt through him, and he caught the slight hitch in her breathing that no one else at the table could possibly detect.
"Sorry," they both muttered simultaneously, causing Ron to roll his eyes.
"You two are weird today," Ron observed, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling around him.
Harry shrugged casually. "Just thinking about the upcoming World Cup."
The lie came easily, and Ron immediately launched into a long talk about Quidditch, giving Harry a moment to compose himself. Across the table, Ginny caught his eye and slowly, deliberately licked a drop of gravy from her bottom lip. Harry nearly choked on his pumpkin juice.
"You all right, mate?" Ron asked, thumping him on the back.
"Fine," Harry wheezed. "Went down the wrong way."
Fred and George, seated on either side of Ginny, exchanged a look that Harry didn't like one bit. Those two noticed everything.
"So, Harry," George began with deceptive casualness, "You told us that you have started using Wandless Magic."
"Just the basics. Nothing fancy."
"Show us something," Fred urged, eyes glinting with mischief. "Wandless, like Charlie mentioned."
All eyes turned to Harry. He hesitated, then shrugged. "Fine. Something small."
Harry focused on the salt shaker in the center of the table, extending his awareness toward it the way he'd been practicing. With a subtle motion of his fingers, he whispered, "Accio salt."
The shaker slid smoothly across the table into his waiting hand. Ron whooped appreciatively while Mrs. Weasley applauded.
"That's advanced magic, dear!" she exclaimed proudly.
Emboldened by their reaction, Harry held out his palm and concentrated again. "Lumos."
A small ball of light appeared above his hand, casting his face in a warm glow. As he manipulated the light, making it dance between his fingers, he became acutely aware of a shift in Hermione's scent beside him—a warm, musky note that made his nostrils flare and his pulse quicken. Without looking, he knew she was watching his hands with rapt attention, her pupils dilated.
"While I must admit that's impressive," Percy interjected pompously, "I feel obligated to point out that underage wandless magic, while undetectable by the Ministry, is still technically illegal for students outside of school."
A collective groan rose from around the table.
"Thank you, Percy, for that critical information that absolutely everyone was dying to know," Ginny said dryly. "The Ministry would surely collapse without you there to enforce the regulation on teenage hand-glowing."
Fred and George burst into laughter, and even Mr. Weasley hid a smile behind his napkin. Percy's ears turned red as he huffed indignantly.
"I'm simply stating the letter of the law," he insisted.
"And we're simply stating that you're a prat," George replied cheerfully.
As the conversation devolved into bickering, Harry became increasingly aware of the symphony of sensory information assaulting him. Hermione's quickened heartbeat beside him. The subtle shift in Ginny's posture whenever their eyes met. The faint scent of arousal from both of them that no one else could detect but that filled his nostrils like an intoxicating perfume.
It was becoming unbearable.
"I should go," Harry announced abruptly, standing up. "Need to do my, uh, lycanthropy meditation before it gets too late."
"Oh yes, of course dear," Mrs. Weasley said sympathetically. "Hermione mentioned those exercises are best done at dusk."
Harry shot Hermione a grateful look. Leave it to her to have created a plausible excuse in advance.
"Don't let him turn furry, Mum," Fred called, earning himself a swat from Mrs. Weasley.
"Thanks for dinner, Mrs. Weasley. It was delicious as always," Harry said politely, then quickly exited before anyone could delay him further.
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The ancient floorboards of Ron's attic bedroom creaked softly beneath Harry's bare feet as he paced back and forth, glancing occasionally at his watch. It was 11:52 PM. Eight minutes remained until the appointed hour, but his enhanced senses were already on high alert, attuned to every sound in the sleeping household.
He'd spent the past hours in a state of nervous anticipation, alternating between cold showers and practicing the most complex wandless magic he could manage to distract himself. Neither had been particularly effective.
Ron's absence felt like both a blessing and a curse. The empty bed across from his own seemed to stare accusingly at Harry. Some friend he was, planning to... well, whatever was about to happen... with Ron's sister.
"He'd hex me into next week," Harry muttered, running a hand through his perpetually messy hair.
Yet he couldn't bring himself to call it off. Something inside him—something that had awakened beneath Lupin's claws—wouldn't let him.
At 11:58, Harry heard it: the whisper-soft sound of bare feet on the landing outside. His heartbeat accelerated as he flicked his fingers toward the door, casting a silent Alohomora. The latch clicked, and the door swung open to reveal Ginny, her red hair cascading over the shoulders of a simple white nightgown.
"Hi," she whispered, slipping inside and closing the door behind her.
"Hi," Harry replied, suddenly feeling terribly awkward despite the confidence that had been growing in him all summer. "I wasn't sure if you'd actually come."
Ginny arched an eyebrow. "You really don't know me very well yet, do you, Potter? When I make up my mind about something, wild hippogriffs couldn't keep me away."
Her bravado made him smile, though he could smell the nervousness beneath her confident exterior. He cast a silent locking charm on the door, followed by the most powerful silencing charm he knew.
"Impressive," Ginny nodded, glancing at his wandless magic. "Hermione's been right about you all along. You really are exceptional."
Before Harry could respond, a soft knock came at the door. Three precise taps—Hermione's signature knock. Harry released the locking charm with a gesture, and the door opened to reveal Hermione, clutching a slim volume entitled "Protective Enchantments: Personal Applications."
Her eyes darted between Harry and Ginny, and a blush colored her cheeks. "I'm not interrupting, am I?"
"We were waiting for you," Harry said softly, relocking the door behind her. "Both of us."
The three of them stood in the center of the small room, illuminated only by moonlight streaming through the window and a small magical orb of light Harry had conjured earlier.
"So," Hermione began, her practical nature asserting itself despite her obvious nervousness, "I've been researching protective spells. There are several contraceptive charms that—"
"Trust you to bring homework to a seduction," Ginny teased gently, but there was affection in her voice rather than mockery.
Hermione flushed deeper. "I just thought we should be prepared and—"
"It's perfect," Harry interrupted, moving closer to her. "It's perfectly you, and that's why it's perfect."
The simple honesty in his words seemed to calm Hermione. She placed the book on Ron's desk and took a steadying breath.
"We should establish some ground rules," she said. "Boundaries. And perhaps a safe word, if anyone becomes uncomfortable and wants to stop."
"'Snape' ought to kill the mood instantly," Harry suggested with a grin.
Both girls laughed, and the tension in the room eased slightly.
"How about 'textbook'?" Ginny suggested. "Simple, memorable, and not something likely to come up... otherwise."
Harry nodded. "Textbook it is."
"And as for boundaries?" Hermione asked, looking between them.
"I think," Harry said carefully, "we should just... take it slow. See what feels right. If anything doesn't, we stop and talk about it. Simple as that."
The practical discussion had helped calm their nerves, but as silence fell between them once more, the electric tension returned tenfold. Harry could hear both girls' heartbeats, smell the complex cocktail of emotions emanating from them—nervousness, excitement, arousal.
"Someone should probably make the first move," Ginny pointed out after a moment, "or we'll be standing here until breakfast."
Harry took a step toward her, glancing at Hermione. She gave him a small nod of encouragement.
He closed the distance to Ginny and cupped her face gently in his hands. Despite his newfound strength, he'd learned to be extraordinarily careful with his touch. "You're sure about this?" he whispered.
In answer, Ginny rose on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was tentative at first, a question rather than a demand. But as Harry responded, it quickly deepened, igniting something fierce and hungry within him. Ginny's lips were soft, her small hands clutching at his shoulders.
When they broke apart, both breathing heavily, Harry turned to find Hermione watching them with an expression he couldn't quite decipher.
"Your turn," Ginny said softly to her.
Harry held out his hand to Hermione, who took it after only a moment's hesitation. Kissing Hermione was like coming home.
"You two together," Ginny murmured, watching them with darkened eyes. "That's even more beautiful than I imagined."
When Harry and Hermione separated, Hermione turned to Ginny with a questioning look. "I've never... with a girl..."
"Neither have I," Ginny admitted. "But I want to. With you."
The two girls moved toward each other. Their first kiss was hesitant. Harry watched, transfixed, as they slowly gained confidence, Hermione's hands tentatively finding Ginny's waist while Ginny's fingers tangled in Hermione's wild curls.
What began as an experiment quickly transformed into something passionate and genuine. When they finally broke apart, both girls were flushed and breathing heavily, looking at each other with newfound wonder.
"Oh," Hermione said simply, touching her lips in surprise.
"Yeah," Ginny agreed with a slightly dazed smile. "Oh."
Harry felt a surge of possessiveness unlike anything he'd experienced before—not jealousy, but a fierce, protective desire for both of them. His eyes, he knew, would be glowing yellow now; they always did when his emotions ran high. The sight usually unnerved people, but when Hermione and Ginny turned to look at him, he saw only fascination and desire reflected back.
"Your eyes," Ginny whispered, stepping closer to him. "They're beautiful."
"Extraordinary," Hermione agreed, moving to his other side. "The lycanthropic manifestation is most pronounced when you're experiencing strong emotions."
Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Only you would analyze werewolf eyes in the middle of... whatever this is."
"It's who she is," Ginny said, surprising Harry with her insight. "And we wouldn't want her any other way."
Harry felt his enhanced senses heightening further as Hermione's fingers found the buttons of his shirt while Ginny's hands slipped beneath the hem.
"May I?" Hermione asked, her fingers poised at his top button.
Harry nodded as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt, each newly revealed inch of his chest bringing a deeper flush to her cheeks. Ginny, meanwhile, had begun to trace the scars on his abdomen – the marks left by Lupin that had forever changed him.
"Does it hurt?" she asked softly.
"Not anymore," Harry replied, his voice hoarse.
When his shirt finally fell open, both girls stared at the transformation his body had undergone. No longer was he the scrawny boy who'd arrived at Hogwarts. Months of intense training combined with his lycanthropic condition had sculpted him into something else entirely – lean, defined muscle rippling beneath pale skin marked by the silvery tracks of Lupin's claws.
Hermione traced one scar reverently. "These changed everything," she murmured.
"For the better?" Harry asked.
"Different," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Not better or worse. Just... more intensely you."
Ginny pushed his shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. "Definitely for the better physically," she added with an appreciative glance at his chest. "Though I'd have wanted you either way."
He reached for Hermione first, drawing her close for a kiss. As their lips met, he felt Ginny press against his back, her hands sliding around to his chest, her fingernails gently scraping against his skin.
"You two are gorgeous together," Ginny whispered, pressing her lips against Harry's shoulder blade. "Even better than I imagined."
Harry broke the kiss with Hermione, turning his head to capture Ginny's lips over his shoulder. "And how long have you been imagining this?" he asked with a playful smirk when they parted.
"Longer than I'd care to admit," Ginny confessed, her boldness returning as she stepped around to face them both. Without preamble, she crossed her arms and pulled her nightgown over her head, leaving her in nothing but a pair of pale blue panties. Unlike Hermione, she wore no bra, and her small, perfect breasts with their rosy nipples drew Harry's gaze immediately.
"Bloody hell," he breathed, taking in the sight of her.
"Language, Potter," Ginny teased, mimicking Hermione's typical admonishment.
Hermione laughed, then stepped back slightly to unbutton her own pajama top, revealing the cotton bra beneath. Her fingers hesitated at the clasp. "I believe you're more familiar with this part now," she said to Harry, her voice soft but confident—so different from her nervous uncertainty during their first time together.
Harry stepped forward, reaching behind her to unhook her bra with practiced ease that made Ginny raise an eyebrow.
"Quick study, aren't you?" Ginny observed with an appreciative glance.
"You have no idea," Hermione replied with a knowing smile that made Harry's blood heat. Her bra fell away, revealing her breasts—fuller than Ginny's, with pink nipples that immediately hardened under Harry's gaze.
"I think it's time you caught up with us," Ginny said, her eyes dropping to Harry's jeans, where his cock was making a bulge on his pants. She knelt before him, looking up through her lashes as she unbuckled his belt. "May I?"
Harry nodded as Ginny slowly unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. The sound echoed loudly in the quiet room, amplified by his enhanced hearing. She tugged them down his legs, leaving him in just his boxers, the impressive outline of his erection clearly visible through the thin fabric.
"Merlin's beard," Ginny whispered, her eyes widening slightly.
Hermione bit her lip, a flush creeping up her neck as she remembered their night in the orchard. "It's even more impressive without the barrier," she said, her voice dropping to a husky whisper.
Ginny glanced up at Hermione, a silent question in her eyes. Hermione nodded, and together they hooked their fingers into the waistband of Harry's boxers and slowly pulled them down, freeing his considerable length. Nine inches of hard flesh sprang up.
"Well," Ginny said, her voice slightly higher than normal, "You've been holding out on the wizarding world, Harry Potter."
Harry laughed softly, a mixture of embarrassment and pride coloring his cheeks. "Another side effect of the partial lycanthropy. Everything's... enhanced, it used to be only seven inches."
"Definitely enhanced," Hermione agreed, kneeling beside Ginny to get a closer look. "I thought it might have been my inexperience that made it seem so... substantial... but no. It's definitely you."
Hermione noticed something as she looked up at him. "Your eyes," she whispered. "They change when you're aroused. Just like last time."
"Do they scare you?" Harry asked, suddenly concerned.
"No," both girls answered simultaneously, then laughed.
"They're beautiful," Ginny added. "Wild."
"Like something ancient and powerful looking through you," Hermione agreed.
Harry reached down, offering each of them a hand. "Stand up," he said, his voice deeper than usual. "I want to see all of you."
They took his hands, allowing him to pull them to their feet. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of Hermione's pajama bottoms, looking into her eyes for permission. She nodded, and he slowly pushed them down her legs, revealing simple cotton panties that matched her discarded bra. He repeated the process with Ginny, both girls now standing before him in just their underwear.
"Together?" Ginny suggested, glancing at Hermione with a mischievous smile.
Hermione nodded, returning the smile with equal playfulness. "Together."
They both hooked their fingers into the sides of their panties and, keeping their eyes locked on Harry's face, slowly pushed them down their legs and stepped out of them. Harry's enhanced vision took in every detail despite the dim light – the soft curls between Hermione's legs, slightly darker than the hair on her head; the neat triangle of vibrant red hair between Ginny's thighs.
"Perfect," Harry whispered, his voice rough with desire. "Both of you. Absolutely perfect."
He guided them backward toward the bed until they sat side by side on the edge. Kneeling before them, Harry placed a hand on each of their knees, gently urging their legs apart. They complied, opening themselves to him with a trust that made his heart swell.
"I want to make you both feel good. Together."
Hermione's breath hitched, remembering how skilled his mouth had been during their night together. "Yes," she breathed.
"Please," Ginny added.
Harry started with Ginny, placing soft kisses on her inner thighs, working his way higher as she trembled beneath his touch. When he finally reached her center, he gave her one long, slow lick that made her gasp and grip the bedsheets.
"Oh Merlin," she moaned as he explored her with his tongue.
After bringing Ginny to the edge of pleasure, Harry shifted his attention to Hermione, who was watching them with darkened eyes and parted lips. His tongue found her most sensitive spot immediately, making her cry out and tangle her fingers in his hair.
"Harry," she gasped, her hips lifting involuntarily to meet his mouth.
Back and forth he went, alternating between them, bringing each close to the edge before switching. The room filled with their gasps and moans.
As he worked, Harry brought his hands into play. He slid one finger into Ginny while his mouth was on Hermione, then reversed the pattern.
"More," Ginny begged, her head thrown back in pleasure. "Please, more."
Harry obliged, adding a second finger, curling them forward to find the spot that made her arch off the bed. Meanwhile, his mouth continued its attention to Hermione, his tongue circling her sensitive bud in the pattern he knew drove her wild.
Then, in a move that made both girls gasp, Harry positioned himself perfectly to slide his fingers into both of them simultaneously.
"Fuck," Ginny swore, a word Harry had rarely heard from her lips. "That's incredible."
"Language," Hermione tried to admonish, but it dissolved into a moan as Harry's fingers curled inside her just right.
Harry increased his tempo, his fingers moving in perfect counterpoint within them both. He could feel them both building toward release, could smell the change in their arousal, could hear the quickening of their heartbeats.
"I'm close," Hermione gasped, her thighs beginning to tremble.
"Me too," Ginny agreed, reaching out to grasp Hermione's hand.
Harry redoubled his efforts, determined to bring them both to climax together. His fingers found the perfect rhythm. The combination of sensations pushed them both over the edge simultaneously.
"Harry!" they cried in unison as waves of pleasure crashed through them. Harry felt their inner walls pulsing around his fingers as they rode out their orgasms, their hands clasped tightly together, their bodies arching.
As they came down from their high, Harry gently removed his fingers and sat back on his heels, admiring the sight of them—flushed, breathless, and utterly satisfied. His own need throbbed insistently, but he found pleasure in their pleasure, in knowing he had brought them both to such heights.
"That was..." Ginny began, struggling to find words.
"Extraordinary," Hermione finished for her, still catching her breath.
Harry grinned, pleased with himself. "Just getting started," he promised.
Both girls looked down at his impressive erection, still standing proudly at attention.
"Your turn," Hermione said, sliding off the bed to kneel before him. She gestured for Ginny to join her. "I think he deserves some special attention, don't you?"
"Absolutely," Ginny agreed, kneeling beside Hermione. "Though I might need some guidance. This is my first time with... well, any of this."
"Just follow my lead," Hermione said with newfound confidence, then turned her attention to Harry. "And you—sit on the edge of the bed. This will be easier that way."
Harry complied, perching on the edge of the mattress as the girls positioned themselves between his legs. The sight of them both kneeling there, naked and eager, made his heart race.
Hermione took the lead, wrapping her hand around the base of his length. "He's quite thick," she explained to Ginny in an almost instructional tone that somehow managed to be incredibly erotic. "So you might not be able to take much at first. Start with just the tip."
To demonstrate, Hermione leaned forward and took the head of Harry's cock into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it in a way that made him groan deeply. After a moment, she released him with a soft pop and turned to Ginny. "Your turn."
Ginny, never one to back down from a challenge, leaned forward to replace Hermione's mouth with her own. Her technique was different—less practiced but enthusiastic—and the contrast sent shivers up Harry's spine.
"That's it," Hermione encouraged, watching closely. "Now try taking a bit more."
Ginny attempted to take more of his length, managing about halfway before she had to pull back. "Merlin's beard," she gasped. "How did you—"
"Practice," Hermione said with a slight blush.
"Show me," Ginny requested, her eyes bright with curiosity.
Hermione nodded, then turned her attention back to Harry. With slowness, she took him into her mouth again, this time sliding down his length until she had taken nearly three-quarters of him. Harry's hands fisted in the bedsheets as he fought to maintain his control.
"Bloody hell, Hermione," he groaned, watching her with glowing eyes.
When she pulled back, Ginny looked impressed. "Remind me never to underestimate you again, Granger."
Hermione laughed softly. "There's a reason I excel at everything I put my mind to."
Together, they established a rhythm, taking turns with Harry's length—sometimes one would focus on the head while the other kissed and licked the shaft, sometimes they would alternate completely, and once, in a move that nearly undid Harry completely, they positioned themselves on either side and ran their tongues up his length simultaneously, meeting in a kiss at the tip.
"You're both trying to kill me," Harry gasped, his control fraying at the edges.
"Not before we've had our fun," Ginny replied with a wicked grin.
Despite their enthusiastic attention, Harry's lycanthropic stamina kept him from reaching his peak too quickly. Minutes stretched on as they explored different techniques, discovering what made him groan and what made his thighs tense.
"He tastes good," Ginny commented during a brief pause, licking her lips. "Better than I expected. Almost sweet."
"Another benefit of the lycanthropy," Hermione explained, running her finger along the underside of his length. "I did some reading. Apparently, it changes the composition of bodily fluids. Makes them more... palatable."
"Of course you researched this," Harry laughed, the sound turning into a groan as Ginny took him into her mouth again.
The combination of their efforts eventually brought Harry to the edge. His breathing grew more ragged, his muscles tensed, and his eyes glowed brighter. "I'm close," he warned, his voice a low growl.
"Together," Hermione suggested to Ginny, who nodded in agreement.
They positioned themselves side by side, their faces close together, both with their mouths open and their tongues extended slightly. With a deep groan, he erupted, his release coming in powerful jets that landed on both their tongues, chins, and chests. The volume was astonishing—far more than normal due to his condition—and it kept coming in wave after wave until both girls were glistening with it.
"Merlin's beard," Ginny breathed when it finally subsided, wiping a drop from her chin and licking it off her finger. "That's a lot."
"And surprisingly delicious," Hermione added, doing the same. "Like honey."
They looked at each other, then simultaneously broke into giggles at the absurdity of their situation—both covered in Harry Potter's release, discussing its flavor like a fine wine.
"You're both incredible," Harry said, his chest still heaving from the intensity of his orgasm. Despite having just found release, he remained partially hard—another benefit of his condition.
Hermione noticed, her eyebrows rising. "Already? That's new."
"Getting better at controlling it," Harry explained with a slight shrug. "The more I adapt to the changes, the more I can direct them."
"Lucky us," Ginny said with an appreciative glance at his recovering erection. She turned to Hermione, a question in her eyes. "So, what happens now?"
Hermione gave Harry a knowing look. "Well, Harry and I have already been together once. I think it's only fair that you get to experience that next. If you want to?"
Ginny's eyes lit up. "Yes," she said simply, no hesitation in her voice.
Harry reached for his wand on the nightstand. "First, let me clean you both up, and then we should cast the protection charm."
A quick cleaning spell later, and both girls were free of the evidence of Harry's pleasure. Hermione reached for her own wand, casting the contraceptive charm on all three of them—a golden glow briefly surrounding each in turn.
"Now," Hermione said, settling back on the bed and patting the space beside her, "come here, Ginny. Let's make your first time special."
Ginny climbed onto the bed, positioning herself in the center. Harry moved between her legs, his renewed erection pressing against her entrance.
"Are you sure?" he asked, searching her face for any sign of hesitation.
"I've been sure for a long time," Ginny replied with a smile. "Though I didn't exactly imagine the circumstances quite like this."
"It might hurt," Harry warned.
"I know," Ginny said, reaching up to touch his face. "I trust you."
Harry began to push into her slowly, careful not to rush. Ginny's breath caught as he stretched her, her fingers digging into his shoulders. Beside them, Hermione stroked Ginny's hair soothingly, whispering encouragement.
When Harry met resistance, he paused, looking into Ginny's eyes. "Ready?"
She nodded, her jaw set with determination. "Do it."
With one swift movement, Harry pushed past the barrier. Ginny gasped, her eyes squeezing shut as pain flashed across her features. Harry held perfectly still, allowing her time to adjust, pressing kisses to her face and neck.
"You okay?" he asked after a moment.
"Yes," Ginny breathed, her body gradually relaxing around him. "You can move now. Slowly."
Harry began to rock gently, keeping his thrusts shallow and controlled. Hermione, meanwhile, leaned down to kiss Ginny deeply, swallowing her small gasps as pain gave way to pleasure.
"That helps," Ginny murmured against Hermione's lips. "Keep doing that."
Hermione smiled, then shifted her attention to Ginny's breasts, taking one small, rosy nipple into her mouth while her hand caressed the other. The dual sensations—Harry's gentle thrusts and Hermione's mouth and hands—soon had Ginny moaning in unmistakable pleasure.
"More," she gasped, her hips rising to meet Harry's. "Deeper."
Harry obliged, pushing further into her with each thrust.
"You feel amazing," Harry groaned, fighting to maintain his control. "So tight, so hot."
"You're so big," Ginny gasped in response, her head thrown back in pleasure. "Merlin, it's like you're splitting me in two, but it feels so good."
Hermione moved her attention to Ginny's other breast, sucking and licking the hardened peak while her hand slid down to where Harry and Ginny were joined. She found the sensitive bundle of nerves above their connection and began to circle it gently.
The combined sensations pushed Ginny toward the edge quickly. "Oh Merlin," she cried, her inner walls beginning to flutter around Harry. "I'm going to—Harry—please—"
"Let go," Harry encouraged, increasing his pace slightly. "Come for me, Ginny."
With a cry that would have alerted the entire household without Harry's silencing charm, Ginny shattered around him, her body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed through her. Harry continued to move through her orgasm, prolonging it until she collapsed, boneless and gasping.
"That was..." she panted when she could speak again, "bloody brilliant."
Harry, still hard inside her, began to move again. Ginny's eyes widened as she realized he wasn't finished.
"Again?" she asked, her voice a mixture of disbelief and excitement.
"We're just getting started," Harry promised, his eyes glowing intensely. "If you're up for it?"
"Absolutely," Ginny agreed, wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him deeper.
The second round was more intense than the first, with Harry setting a faster pace now that Ginny was fully adjusted to him. Hermione continued to play a supportive role, alternating between kissing Ginny deeply and whispering encouragements in her ear.
"He feels amazing, doesn't he?" Hermione murmured, loud enough for Harry to hear. "The way he fills you completely, stretches you just to the edge of what you can take."
"Yes," Ginny gasped as Harry hit a particularly sensitive spot. "Oh Merlin, right there!"
Harry focused on that spot, angling his hips to hit it with each thrust. The room filled with the sounds of their pleasure—skin against skin, Ginny's increasingly vocal moans, Harry's deep groans, and Hermione's encouraging whispers.
As Ginny built toward her second peak, Harry felt his own release approaching. His thrusts became more forceful, his enhanced strength carefully controlled but evident in the power behind each movement.
"I'm close," he growled, his voice deeper than usual.
"Me too," Ginny gasped, her nails raking down his back. "Don't stop, don't stop, don't—ah!"
Her inner walls clamped down on him as she reached her climax, the pulsing sensation triggering Harry's own release. With a deep groan, he emptied himself inside her, each pulse sending another wave of pleasure through them both.
As they came down from their shared high, Harry carefully withdrew and collapsed beside Ginny, his chest heaving. Hermione leaned over to kiss them both—first Ginny, then Harry..
"That was incredible to watch," Hermione admitted, her eyes dark with arousal. "I never thought seeing someone else with you would be so..."
"Hot?" Ginny supplied with a languid smile.
"Exactly," Hermione agreed.
Despite having just found release, Harry was already beginning to recover. Noticing this, Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"My turn?" she asked, a playful challenge in her voice.
"Definitely," Harry agreed, sitting up with renewed energy. "How do you want it?"
A blush colored Hermione's cheeks, but there was determination in her eyes. "Like before, but... rougher."
"Are you sure?" he asked, searching her face.
"I'm sure," Hermione said firmly. "I trust you, Harry. Completely."
Harry nodded, then positioned himself behind her as she got on her hands and knees. Ginny, recovering quickly, moved to kneel in front of Hermione, her eyes bright with curiosity.
"Is this okay?" Ginny asked, gesturing to her position.
"More than okay," Hermione assured her, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on Ginny's inner thigh.
Harry positioned himself at Hermione's entrance, his hands gripping her hips firmly. Without preamble, he thrust into her, making her gasp and arch her back.
"Yes," she moaned as he set a rougher pace than before, his hips slapping against her with each powerful thrust. "Like that, Harry. Just like that."
Emboldened by her response, Harry allowed more of his primal nature to surface. His fingers dug into her hips, sure to leave marks, and his thrusts grew more forceful. The bed creaked beneath them as he pounded into her.
"You're so tight, so perfect," he growled, one hand moving to tangle in her wild hair, pulling her hair. The action made Hermione moan louder, her back arching further.
"Yes, Harry," she gasped, pushing back to meet each thrust. "More, please more."
Ginny, watching with fascinated eyes, shifted position slightly so that she was directly in front of Hermione. Understanding the invitation, Hermione leaned forward and began to explore Ginny with her mouth, her enthusiastic sounds muffled against Ginny's most intimate place.
The visual—Hermione on her hands and knees, being thoroughly claimed by Harry while she pleasured Ginny with her mouth—was the most erotic thing any of them had ever experienced.
"Good girl," Harry praised as Hermione took him particularly deep. "Taking me so well while you taste Ginny. So perfect for me."
The praise made Hermione whimper against Ginny, the vibrations causing the redhead to gasp and tangle her fingers in Hermione's hair.
"Merlin, Hermione," Ginny moaned. "Your mouth feels incredible."
Harry continued his relentless pace, one hand still in Hermione's hair, the other reaching around to find the sensitive bundle of nerves. The added stimulation made Hermione cry out, the sound muffled against Ginny but still unmistakable.
"That's it," Harry encouraged, circling his fingers in the pattern he knew drove her wild. "Let go for me, Hermione. Be a good girl and come on my cock."
The commanding tone pushed Hermione over the edge. Her inner walls clamped down on him as waves of pleasure crashed through her, her cries of release muffled against Ginny but still reverberating through the room.
The combination of Hermione's orgasm and her increased enthusiasm in her ministrations quickly brought Ginny to the edge as well. "I'm close," Ginny gasped, her thighs beginning to tremble. "Oh Merlin, Hermione, don't stop!"
Harry, still pounding into Hermione through her orgasm, felt his own release building. "Together," he growled, his movements becoming more erratic as he approached the edge. "Come together with me."
As if on cue, all three reached their peak simultaneously—Harry emptying himself deep inside Hermione with a groan, Hermione experiencing a second, more intense orgasm that had her collapsing forward, and Ginny crying out as waves of pleasure crashed through her under Hermione's devoted attention.
They collapsed together in a tangle of limbs, sweaty and satiated.
"Well," Ginny said after several minutes of contented silence, her voice slightly rough from their activities. "I think we can definitely say that wasn't terrible and awkward."
Hermione laughed softly, the sound muffled against Ginny's thigh where she still rested. "I believe 'brilliant' was the alternative prediction."
"Brilliant doesn't begin to cover it," Harry murmured, carefully withdrawing from Hermione and lying down beside them both.
With gentle movements, they rearranged themselves into a more comfortable position—Harry in the middle, an arm around each of them as they curled against his sides.
"So this is... a thing now?" Ginny asked, propping herself up on one elbow to look at them both. "The three of us?"
"If you want it to be," Harry said carefully.
"I think," Hermione said, "that we have something unique here. Something worth exploring further."
"Hermione Granger, suggesting we need more practical research?" Ginny teased. "I'm shocked."
"Extensive practical research," Hermione corrected with a smile that made Harry's heart skip a beat. "Very thorough, very... hands-on."
"I've created monsters," Harry groaned dramatically, though the grin spreading across his face belied his complaint.
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