Need You

by orphan_account

Summary:

Harry's first heat is spent with the two people he's loved for half his life, even if they don't know it.

Chapter 1

When he woke up, he knew something was wrong. Harry rolled over onto his side and curled into a ball on his bed, as the sharp, sudden pain in his lower abdomen drove him to alertness.

 

It hurt. It hurt really badly and he cried out into his pillow. His muscles ached too like he’d worked out too much in too short of time but he hadn’t really done much before he’d gone to bed the night before.

 

He reached for his wand on the nightstand, the rising urge to call for help, to call for them in specific only helped along by the wetness he could feel sliding down his inner thighs and, when he looked down, the startling amount of blood staining the boxers he’d went to bed in.

 

He sent off two messages through patronus and then curled up again, crying into his knees. Only a few minutes later his bedroom door slammed open and then there were hands on him. Comforting, familiar hands. He collapsed into Hermione when she tried pulling him up.

 

“Harry...” her tone was astonished as she stared down at him. “You’re....you’re...”

 

Ron was gaping at him; standing at Hermione’s side but what Harry was more focused on was the scent when he breathed in where his face was buried in Hermione’s neck. Surprisingly, it calmed him down and he wasn’t sure if it was his imagination but he thought his pain eased as well.

 

She smelled like the books she liked so much but also something he couldn’t describe if he wanted to, something comforting and familiar. Something that made him want to press closer to her.

 

When Ron got closer, it was the same. Not the same scent but the same feeling and he whimpered when they pulled away.

 

“Harry,” Hermione started, her hands on either side of his face, “do you know what this means?”

 

“I don’t...” He paused, closed his eyes. “Presenting.”

 

He had been taught all of this before. Of course he knew what it meant. It just shouldn’t be happening, should it? He was nearly twenty years old. Nobody presented that late.

 

When he hadn’t, everyone had assumed he wouldn’t. It was getting more uncommon but there were still people who didn’t. Betas were what people called them, and he’d been sure that was what he was.

 

He’d been okay with it, at first. It wasn’t until Hermione and Ron had started dating he’d started feeling not so okay with it.

 

“Come on. You should get cleaned up.” Ron lifted him from the bed and Hermione went ahead to his bathroom to fill a tub. He was then left alone to get out of his ruined boxers and into the water.

 

He still felt achy and not quite right, still wanted them close and had to bite the inside of his cheek to not protest them leaving. Still, he simply lowered himself into the tub and sat with his knees pulled up for several minutes, delaying the inevitable. Finally, with some reluctance, he parted his legs and looked down at himself and sucked in a breath.

 

His dick and balls had shrunk. They had shrunk to make room for something. Harry let his hand wonder down to the new opening and let out a gasp when his fingers almost slipped inside. Curious, he did let one press in and a jolt of pleasure shot through him. A new sort of wetness came with it.

 

Slick. He was producing slick. The full weight of what that meant hit him and he closed his legs, hugging them to his chest. Omega. He was an omega. He would have heats, unless he used the potions designed to stop them. His breath hitched. He could get pregnant.

 

He removed one hand from his knee to place it on his stomach, imagining what it would be like, imagining how big he would get. He remembered seeing Malfoy last year, in the later stages of his pregnancy and he noticed other changes as well, like how his hips seemed wider than they had the night before.

 

Harry quickly removed his hand and closed his legs again when there was a knock on the door and Ron poked his head inside. He and Hermione both came in and Harry pulled his legs tighter to himself, embarrassed suddenly about his thoughts and about the changes to his appearance.

 

“Harry, we need to talk,” Hermione said softly, keeping her eyes on his face, “you know what this means, right?”

 

“Come on, course he does,” Ron interjected, “doubt he wouldn’t notice the changes that came with that.” He sat down on the edge of the tub.

 

“Right,” Hermione said, her eyes narrowing briefly at Ron, “do you also remember what’s going to happen next?”

 

Harry froze when he did. “Heat.” Omegas go into heat after presenting. Panic started to form in his chest. He had, like most kids probably had, thought about presenting when he’d been younger and imagined both sides of it.

 

The biggest put off when he’d thought about being an omega had been the heats. He’d heard how painful they could be if you didn’t have an alpha, and the idea of being so desperate hadn’t been something he’d imagined would be fun.

 

Of course there were potions to stop them. Most omegas used them, just because of how inconvenient it was to be completely out of action for a couple of days, unable to work or do pretty much anything.

 

The first one, though, couldn’t be stopped. It wasn’t just going to be his imagination this time. He was going to be stuck. He was going to be locked in some room begging someone to fuck him. He shuddered at the thought.

 

“We could take you to one of the heat rooms at St Mungo’s,” Hermione suggested, “or...”

 

“Or,” Ron picked up, “we could help you out.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the end of the offer and Harry’s head shot up.

 

“Help me out,” he repeated.

 

“Yes,” Hermione said, “it’s easier on omegas with an alpha there. We’re friends, we want to help.

 

Friends. Right. His face burned as he thought about it. He had loved them both for what felt like his whole life. What would that do? Letting them...help. Wouldn’t that just make it worse? And then what?

 

But... maybe it was his only chance to be with them any at all. That was probably selfish. He really shouldn’t be thinking like that. He couldn’t help his imagination though. He also couldn’t help these new instincts.

 

“Harry?” The both of them leaned closer, their scents mingled, and Harry felt light all of the sudden.

 

“Okay,” he said finally. They shared a look and Ron reached for him, putting a hand on his head.

 

“Okay?”

 

Harry nodded, leaning into the touch. It was nice and he didn’t want them to leave. 

 

“Do you want us to leave now so you can get dressed?” She asked next and he looked down.

 

They would see everything, wouldn’t they and it was already hard to think with Ron’s fingers in his hair.

 

“You still haven’t washed,” Ron pointed out, “do you want us to do it?”

 

With his fingers working through his hair and their scents tangled together, Harry couldn’t even think to say no. Ron stood when he nodded and Harry already missed the touch. He and Hermione shared a conversation that Harry couldn’t decipher in a few looks and then they were both pulling off their robes.

 

His voice died before he could even say anything as they stripped. His face heated when he got a look at their bodies, at the fact that they were both so much bigger than him now and then they were slipping into the bath with him, Hermione behind him and Ron in front.

 

“Harry,” Hermione said, making him shudder at how close her lips were to his ears and her hand running down his ribs. Ron coaxed him out of the curled position until his legs were straight, on either side of Ron. He felt drunk, almost. Floaty. And he wanted to tilt his head to the side to give her more access.

 

Ron gripped his thighs and he could feel himself leaking, even in the water. He was hard as well and couldn’t bring himself to care that he wasn’t any bigger hard than he was soft.

 

“Harry,” Ron said, staring so intensely at him, “can I...?”

 

“Yeah,” he answered breathlessly. Ron’s hand moved upward, ghosting over his cock and then the new opening. He squirmed against Hermione when Ron rubbed the pads of his fingers against him and then sank two inside.

 

He loosened to accept them immediately, like his body was made to be penetrated and Harry had never felt anything like it. His entire body felt like a live wire as Ron worked his fingers inside and Hermione kept him steady, her nails grazing over his ribs and then nipples.

 

“Do you want it now, Harry?” Ron asked, the blue of his eyes darker somehow. He twisted his fingers, spreading them apart, making pleasure jolt through Harry. “Do you want something bigger?”

 

“Pl-please,” Harry stuttered out, arching. He whined when the fingers disappeared, feeling empty but he didn’t feel that way for long.

 

“Wait,” Hermione said, grabbing her wand and casting a quick spell on him, “just something to make sure you don’t get pregnant.”

 

“Oh.” None of them said anything about the disappointment in his tone. It’d be blamed on the heat later.

 

Ron gripped his hips and then pushed him back a bit until his back was flush with Hermione’s breast. A second later, Ron was lifting him and then bringing him back down and something longer and thicker sank into him.

 

Despite his earlier assessment, it burned, just a little but not for long. He was fully seated in Hermione’s lap with her buried deep inside of him. He didn’t have time to think about how this was his first time because Ron was lifting him again and then bringing him back down.

 

He gasped out, every part of him on fire because he could feel every part of her. She was moaning into his neck and Ron’s eyes were almost fully black as he watched, staring almost entranced at where Harry and Hermione were connected. 

 

He cried out when Hermione bucked up into him and the pace quickened. Ron bounced him up and down in Hermione’s lap and Harry lost all sense of anything except for the slide of her inside.

 

There was something missing, though. He didn’t know what until there was something growing. It popped in and out of him for a few thrusts until Ron slammed him back down for the final time and Hermione ground up into him. Her knot grew a bit more until it locked him in her lap and it filled every part of him. That was his tipping point and he came with a shout.

 

When he came back to himself he was slumped boneless against Hermione and Ron was petting his hair again. He could feel his inner muscles rhythmically clenching down on her knot and he could feel her release pumping inside.

 

Harry still felt hot, but also sated. He wanted to stay there forever, even thought about what it would be like to tip forward and take Ron into his mouth.

 

“Looks like that sent you fully into it, mate,” Ron said. He pulled the plug on the tub and stood. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

 

Hermione hugged him closer to her. “You smell so good, Harry. Feel so good like this. I want...I wish...”

 

Her forlorn tone brought him a bit out of his floating satisfaction and he reached for her hand. “Love you,” he mumbled, because it was the truth, even if she wouldn’t interpret the way he really meant it. She squeezed him tighter.

 

Ron came back a bit later carrying something that he didn’t pay attention to because he could feel the knot inside of him deflate. He didn’t even notice it when Ron passed whatever it was to Hermione because the burning got worse as she slipped out of him and he felt suddenly, achingly empty.

 

She was there though, pressing something hard and smooth against his opening, pushing it inside until the big, rounded end popped in. The empty feeling dissipated some, although it still wasn’t as good as her knot.

 

“That should help for now.”

 

They lifted him up, and Ron turned on the shower. He rested against Ron’s chest as they cleaned him slowly and softly, still floating. The plug kept most of Hermione’s release locked inside of him and it did help, some.

 

However, by the time Ron had carried him to his bed, he needed something else. He whined as he rolled on the bed, panting at the heat.

 

“What do you need, Harry?” Ron asked softly, running a hand over his ass. Harry, lost in it, rolled over onto his hands and knees, presenting himself to the older boy. Ron got up behind him; pressing his thumb into the plug and making Harry drop his head.

 

“Please...I want...I want...”

 

“What do you want?” Hermione asked, settling in front of him.

 

“Both,” he said, trying to pull her closer and opening his mouth, making himself very clear. Ron pulled the plug free and replaced it with his cock at the same time that Hermione got up on her knees and pushed hers into his mouth.

 

The pushed and pulled him back and forth between them. The thickness of them inside his opening and on his tongue satisfying but not nearly as much as when their knots began to swell. Harry did not pull off Hermione when it happened, letting her knot lock behind his teeth while Ron’s locked inside from behind. He had to swallow around her and consciously relax his throat to keep from choking but it was worth when he was locked into place between them. He swallowed her release and felt Ron’s painting his insides.

 

“You’re amazing,” Hermione murmured, scratching along his scalp. He hummed around her knot. His jaw would ache before it went down, but that would be satisfying as well.

 

He had no clue how many hours they spent like this. They traded him back and forth, sometimes had him between them like that, replacing the plug each time.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Hermione groaned again as Harry’s inner muscles squeezed her knot. His heat had been winding down for the last hour or so and at the moment he was sleeping against her chest. She knew when he woke the heat would be gone and she worried.

 

“You don’t think we took advantage, do you?” She asked tentatively, working her fingers through Harry’s hair.

 

Ron frowned. “He wanted it.”

 

“Yes, but...” but he’d been in pre-heat when he’d agreed to it. What if he hated them in the morning? What if this ruined things?

 

She loved him and she knew Ron did as well. They’d been content so far as friends but this would change things.

 

“Go to sleep, Hermione. Harry could never hate you.”

 

She smiled and reached for his hand. When her knot went down, she replaced the plug and settled Harry between them before going to sleep.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxcxxcxxx

 

Harry woke with a start and then a groan. He ached. Every part of him did like he’d had an intense workout. And, oh, he did have one, didn’t he?

 

Harry lifted himself on his hands and looked down at his two best friends, sleeping soundly on either side of him. He flushed when he sat up more and felt the plug inside of him shift.

 

Carefully, he crawled over Ron and limped towards his bathroom, locking the door and getting into the shower. When the water heated up, he stepped under it. Embarrassment rose up when he pulled the plug out and he felt both their releases and his slick leaking down his thighs.

 

It rose up further, heating his cheeks when he remembered all the things they’d done, when he remembered how many times he’d begged to be caught between them and how content he’d felt like that.

 

However, fear soon replaced the embarrassment. What if this changed things? What if they couldn’t be friends after? Did they know how much he loved them? How much, even without the heat, he still wanted to be caught between them, and not just in a sexual way?

 

He had almost worked himself up into a panic by the time he’d stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself.

 

The hand that he reached for the doorknob with shook but there was only one thing he could do. Harry had been called a lot of things, a lot of them true, but he had never been a coward. He opened the door and stepped out.

Chapter 2

Hermione was sitting up, sheets pulled up to cover her chest when Harry came out of the bathroom. They stared at each other for several seconds before Harry made a beeline for his closet to get dressed.

 

It was a walk-in and Harry went all the way inside and shut the door partway before dropping the towel. Now, not influenced by his heat, he stared down at the changes his body had gone through and hated them, if only for what they had led to.

 

Harry slipped out of the bedroom a few minutes later while Hermione was trying to wake a snoring Ron. His stomach felt hollow as well as everything else wrong. At least he could get some food, fix that, even if everything else was up in the air.

 

He set a pot on the stove to boil water for oatmeal, wanting something simple, and stared down at it, the full ramifications of everything that had happened weighing down on him.

 

He’d had sex with Hermione and Ron. He’d let them both knot him, begged for it even. He’d never had sex and hadn’t imagined, even before he had thought he wouldn’t present, that it would ever end up like this.

 

Sure, he might have dreamed about being with them. But still, not like this.

 

“Harry?” Hermione’s tentative voice made him turn. She stopped at the kitchen island with Ron beside her.

 

“You okay, mate?” Ron asked, coming around the counter and bumping shoulders with him.

 

Harry shrugged, uncomfortable. Was he? Was he okay with how his life had just changed? Not just with how they had…helped him but how his body had changed, how people might look at him differently now.

 

“Not a big deal right?”

 

Harry’s head shot up to stare at Ron. “Not a big deal?”

 

“Yeah, I mean, we were just helping, right?”

 

“Right. Just helping.” His chest felt just as hollow as his stomach at the words, even though he’d known that already.

 

“Harry,” Hermione started, sitting and leaning forward, “are you okay with everything else? I mean, I know presenting can be…a big deal.”

 

Harry shrugged again and turned back to the stove. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. When Ron started talking about other things, forcing the conversation off what had happened between them, Harry let him.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

If there was another thing Harry would hate about being omega, it was this. In order to get the potions required to suppress his heats, he was required to submit to an examination. The healer that was standing at the bottom of the bed were his legs were spread, exposing him to her also wanted to find out why he had presented so late and if it would cause him problems.

 

“It may be due to the trauma you’ve suffered over the years,” she had said. Trauma. He’d been beaten by Dudley and his friends, bitten by a basilisk, put under the cruciatus more than once, possessed by Voldemort, and hit with the killing curse twice.

 

She had stared at him with such wide eyes when he had told her all of this, even though most people knew at least some of it. She had set up some charms to monitor him and now she pressed something thin and unyielding into him.

 

He dug his fingernails into his palms but couldn’t help but to get hard and wet. He was extremely sensitive now, not just there. He flushed with both embarrassment and arousal and no amount of her reassurances that it was natural and all omegas were sensitive like that would make him feel less so when she pressed it in as deep as she could so the charms she had attached to it could check his womb made him have to bite down on the inside of his cheeks to keep from making a noise.

 

When she moved it around some, brushing parts of him inside that had him close his eyes and bite down harder on his cheek. He could feel himself leaking. He didn’t really understand why it had to be done anyway. He’d had his internal organs and bones checked with just a spell before when he got injured.

 

She got it out of him finally and turned her back while she checked over her results to spare him further embarrassment. He sat up and pulled the gown down and tried to calm himself as well. The results were much faster as well and he felt a jolt of fear when he saw the sympathy in her eyes when she turned back around.

 

“Mr. Potter,” she started, “there appears to be some damage done.”

 

“Damage,” he repeated, an edge of panic starting to rise. She held up her hands, stepped closer to him again.

 

“Don’t worry, it can be fixed. I’d like to put you on some potions that will heal the damage. It’ll be a slow process because of how delicate this is but it can be fixed.”

 

“But there’s another catch,” he said because her tone was still apologetic.

 

“Yes. It might make your heats a little erratic and you won’t be able to take the suppressant potions until the damage is completely fixed.”

 

“Oh.” There was that panic again.

 

She hesitated. “Is there an alpha that you can trust? It would be much easier on you to spend them with an alpha. This can make them more painful. You’re an auror, aren’t you? I’d also suggest not taking any missions that could put you away from home for a significant length of time. Your heats can come early or late unexpectedly.”

 

Harry’s hands fisted in his lap. Of course this would happen. Of course he couldn’t have been normal when he’d presented. She got him the potions that would last for a month and told him to come back when they ran out so she could adjust the dosages after examining him again.

 

He left with a sense of dread welling in him.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Harry lay on his bed on his side, staring at his wall. He wondered idly if he should be crying, if he shouldn’t be feeling mostly numb again after the day he’d just had. There was a sense of things spinning out of his own control again for him.

 

The suggestion, when he’d gone into the ministry after the exam, had been that he should take a leave, that he should wait until he was fully healed and then apply again to be an auror. The excuse given was the potentially unpredictable heats.

 

It made some sense, but it still left him reeling. Maybe, if he really thought about it, his decision to become an auror in the first place had been a bit of a spontaneous one on his part in an effort to do something after the war but to have that choice taken away because of things that other people had done to him as a kid…

 

He blinked several times. Maybe he was going to cry. Maybe he was angry, mostly at Dumbledore this time, even though the man was dead and it was pointless. He ignored it when the knock came on his door and didn’t look away from the wall when the door opened.

 

“Harry?” Hermione called. He didn’t move but they did, the both of them climbing onto the bed with him, Ron behind and Hermione in front.

 

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said like she knew what had happened. Probably did and she pulled him into her until his face was pressed into her shoulder.

 

Ron, who even at the age of twenty still had the habit of letting his mouth run away from him, didn’t say anything. His assertion that morning that they were just helping, that it hadn’t been a big deal still stung, anyway. Harry turned after a while, successfully managing not to cry and lay on his back between them for several minutes.

 

 

“Harry, I was told that you weren’t going to continue as an auror. Why?” There was a hint of something in her voice, like she was ready to be angry if it was just because he had presented omega.

 

He put his hands on his face after a moment. “Damage. There was damage.”

 

“What?”

 

“I…I can’t take the potions. Gave me some to heal some damage that caused me to present late. Can’t take the ones to suppress the heats because of it and they’ll probably be unpredictable.” He said all this fast, and saying it out loud made it almost worse, and made him angrier.

 

“Oh. Harry…” Hermione turned into him this time, hugging him to her again.

 

They fell silent again after that and Harry was grateful that they didn’t start talking about next heats, at least not yet. It was another thing he didn’t want to think about at the moment. He just let himself fall asleep between them again.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Hermione woke to Ron’s snoring and the space between them empty. Propping herself up on her elbow, she looked towards the door. She didn’t reach for Ron this time, instead sitting up and sighing.

 

It wasn’t really fair, was it? Harry had gone through too much already when they’d been kids. That he’d present this way was unfair. Hermione hadn’t thought Harry should be an auror. She suspected that it had been a combination of other people’s expectations of him pushing him there as well as not wanting to stay too still after the war was over.

 

She’d seen the look on his face when Ron had suggested that what had happened between them was no big deal that morning. She hadn’t wanted to say anything about it, at least not until she talked to Ron first, but maybe she should tell him the truth.

 

Maybe she and Ron should talk to him about it, even if he didn’t feel the same. There was a possibility that he did, wasn’t there? A possibility that meant they might have hurt him that morning.

 

There was apprehension about it too, of course. Apprehension at the possible rejection but she was no longer a child, and neither was Ron. They could talk about it like adults, couldn’t they? Hermione reached for Ron, intending on waking him so they could talk about it before speaking with Harry.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Once again, Harry sat in his bath, face pressed into his knees. He’d actually cried this time and he didn’t know what to do. Hermione and Ron were still sleeping on his bed, and he’d once again ended up in between them, this time not sexually.

 

He wondered if they’d offer to help with his heats until he was completely healed, wondered if Ron would be casual about it, like it wasn’t a big deal. He was just offering to help, after all. It wasn’t a big deal to him, right?

 

Squeezing his legs a little tighter, Harry felt a little bad about the fact that he couldn’t say any of this to them, that he couldn’t speak to them like the adult he was supposed to be. The fear was overwhelming the rationale that he should.

 

He couldn’t bring himself to and he knew it was going to get worse because of that, that he was going to make it worse because he couldn’t do it. And, yet, even knowing that, he also knew he couldn’t do it.

Chapter 3

Notes:

Sorry about the ridiculous wait for the last chapter. Real life stuff happened and it unfortunately took me away from writing for a while.

There's this quote from Buffy the Vampire Slayer where Giles asks Cordelia if she's ever heard of tact and she says "Tact is just not saying true stuff. I'll pass." This is always how I've characterized Ron in my head.

Harry pushed the broom faster, body bent low over it, fast enough that crashing would be a serious injury. The tips of his shoes skated along the edge of the grass in his massive backyard.

 

 

He abruptly pulled up when he got close to the trees, banking hard enough that if he weren’t as good at this as he was, he would have crashed.

 

 

The wind whipped at his hair, cold stinging his bare arms. He had come out on a whim after spending all day drowning in his doubts and feeling sorry for himself. He hadn’t even thought about a coat.

 

 

It didn’t matter how long he’d been doing it, flying was still a rush, and one that took most his concentration away from what all had happened lately.

 

 

He didn’t want to think about presenting or what had happened between himself and his two best friends or how weird they’d acted earlier before the both of them had headed to work.

 

 

He leaned closer to his broom, pushing his luck and skill just a little further. His bodily changes were almost impossible to ignore but this was at least a distraction.

 

 

He nearly did crash when he spotted his two best friends standing just outside his back door watching him. He could see Hermione wringing her hands.

 

 

“What is it?” He asked after flying close to them, gripping his broom tighter and noticing, for the first time, how cold it really was.

 

 

“Harry! That looked so dangerous! And it’s so cold out here! Why don’t you have a jacket?!”

 

 

Harry stared at her a moment before sharing a Look with Ron. That had sounded a little too close to Molly to be comfortable.

 

 

“I’m fine,” he said, although he dismounted. “Nothing blue, see?” He wiggled his fingers at her. They ached a bit but nothing serious. He started past her before she could answer, heading inside.

 

They followed him inside and into his kitchen. When he turned around after getting a glass of water, Hermione was still wringing her hands and Ron was shifting on his feet. He raised an eyebrow. “What?”

 

Hermione stepped closer. “Harry…We just…we thought we should talk.”

 

Harry tensed. “Yeah?” He set the glass down slowly, anxiety already building in his chest.

 

“There was something we needed to ask but everything was so sudden and I didn’t know how to do it because what if you don’t want…”

 

“We should mate,” Ron blurted out and Harry froze. He watched as Hermione turned on Ron.

 

“Ron!” She shouted. “You can’t just say things like that!”

 

“Why not?! It’s what we came here to say isn’t it?”

 

“I mean, yes but do you even know the definition of tact?!”

 

Ron scoffed. “You mean that thing where you don’t say what you actually mean?”

 

Harry stood between them, numbly shocked, while their argument escalated.

 

“Are you saying that I don’t say what I mean?” Hermione asked, voice lower this time, angrier.

 

It didn’t help when Ron rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say that.”

 

Harry, feeling a little lightheaded now, watching them argue and seemingly forget their purpose for coming into his kitchen in the first place, pushed past them both and out of the kitchen. This action immediately stopped the fighting and they were silent behind him when he stumbled back outside and sat down on his steps.

 

Harry’s had bent forward with his chin resting on his knees by the time they came out, sitting on either side of him. Ron knocked his knee into Harry’s, looking truly chagrined.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be.” Harry usually liked how blunt Ron was so he directed the next question to him. “Why?” However, it wasn’t Ron who answered.

 

“Because we love you, idiot.” Hermione still looked overly anxious but she shrugged when Harry turned his gaze on her. “Ron’s right sometimes. Tact can be over rated.”

 

“Enough that you want to be tied to me forever?”

 

“Geez, Harry,” Ron said with another scoff, “like we aren’t already.”

 

Harry snorted, and supposed that was true. Even if they didn’t mate, he didn’t think he could manage without them in his life in some way and he knew that he would have died very young without them.

 

He relaxed. They loved him. Like, actually loved him. There was no second guessing their words. They never lied to him. He had, at different points in his life trusted them with everything and he would do it again in a heartbeat. They loved him.

 

“Okay,” he said finally, tension completely draining out of him.

 

Hermione practically bounced in her seat. “Okay?”

 

Harry couldn’t stop a smile. “Yeah. Okay.” He flushed. “I love you both two. Think I always have.”

 

Hermione gave a cry and then dragged him close, almost into her lap, actually and Ron crashed into his back.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

They took a while after that. A while to talk about things, to hash things out. Also the both of them wanted to take time off. They were all going to want to stay in close proximity to one another for a while after so it made sense.

 

Harry was practically vibrating out of his own skin. He went back to the doctor to talk about it, even, and read a bunch of stuff about it and while he was nervous, there was also excitement.

 

The reality of it hit him after they’d talked and he just couldn’t believe that he was getting what he wanted and he was very glad that they were braver about expressing themselves than he was. He wondered if he would have ever said anything if they hadn’t.

 

This felt right. Maybe more so than anything else he’d ever done in his life. And if it felt that right, if he got to have this, then being an omega couldn’t be so bad.

 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

The stretch, that he had worried about hurting before they had started, actually felt amazing. They were both surrounding him, both inside of him, moving in sync with one another and cradling him in-between.

 

The burn of the stretch got a little worse when he felt their knots starting to form but his body really was made for this now. Their lips were on either side of his neck and they waited for just a few more minutes, until they were catching inside of him, until he was almost tipped over the edge.

 

They bit down, hard, and Harry’s vision and hearing went out for a bit. He wasn’t sure how long it lasted afterwards but he was still held between them when he came down, they were still inside him and he could feel them.

 

Not just the physical, not how he was resting against Ron’s chest or how Hermione’s arms were wrapped tightly around him from behind. But in his head, in his chest. There was something there that hadn’t been before.

 

He could feel them releasing inside of him too but what had embarrassed him in the aftermath before now just made him smile. There. Now he really was theirs, they really were his. He fell asleep between them, content with that knowledge and with the surety that they would be there when he woke up.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Ron/Harry/Hermione Alpha/Omega AU