"Looking good, Potter."

Harry swivelled around at the sound of the all-too familiar drawl. "Malfoy!"

Draco Malfoy was leaning against a shower stall in all his bare, blond glory, clad in nothing but a towel that he'd slung loosely around his waist. Harry swallowed hard and tried not to blush but, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep his eyes from roving downwards.

"It's all right, Potter." Yup, there was the characteristic smirk, too. "Look all you want, I don't mind. I rather enjoy the view myself. You've made an effort to keep fit, I see."

Malfoy stepped closer, extending a hand to lightly touch Harry's broad shoulders. Harry's mind was racing as he tried to come up with a witty answer. What kind of game was Malfoy playing? Why had he stayed behind until the two of them were alone in the showers?

Two months ago, Ron had called Harry to tell him about the Quidditch match planned for their ten-year class reunion. "Two teams, each mixed from all the houses. Just for old times' sake, you know?" Harry had been just as enthusiastic as his friend. This had been the perfect opportunity to meet all the others again and to relive the good times they'd had. Much better than just sitting around and talking.

It hadn't come as a big surprise when he and Malfoy had ended up as the seekers of the two opposing teams. As a matter of fact, it had been exhilarating to face his old rival again. When he'd stolen away the Snitch right from under Draco's hands, he had felt the same triumph he had back at school. For all that they'd outgrown their childish quarrels by now, some things would never change.

After the match, Harry had found excuses to take his time in the showers, relishing the memories evoked by the familiar smells and sights, dreaming of the past while the others had already gone off to celebrate. It seemed he wasn't the only one.

Malfoy's hands slowly traced his collarbone, and Harry's breath hitched. At such a close distance, and with nothing but their towels between them, there was no way to hide his body's reaction, and it made Malfoy's grin widen even further. Though he himself was by no means unaffected, Harry couldn't help but notice.

"Granger is bloody gorgeous, too." Malfoy's silky voice had him hypnotized, or at least it was the only explanation Harry had for why he didn't turn and walk away. Malfoy chuckled. "Funny that the two of you should have discovered your feelings for each other after all this time. Though, really, I'm just glad she didn't end up with Weasley. He would have been in way over his head."

"Yeah. Funny," Harry croaked in agreement, because really, there was nothing else to say. Draco's analysis was spot on.

Ron and Hermione had lasted for all of two weeks after their final exams. After one particularly epic quarrel involving lots of shouting and wand-waving, she had disappeared without leaving an address. Both Ron and Harry, who had feebly tried to defend his best friend's point of view, had been taken by surprise by the extent of her fury. Later, they had learned that she had moved to Paris, of all places. To be honest, Harry hadn't been sure they would ever see her again.

Ginny and he hadn't fared much better, much to her mother's chagrin. She was engaged to be married to a bloke from the ministry now. Decent chap, from what Harry had heard. Ah, well. They had all been much too young, really. And wasn't it silly, the way everyone had expected those teenage romances to last a lifetime?

Yet, when he had run into Hermione again, two years ago, they had both known immediately that this was it. They had been all over each other from the moment they'd met, in a Muggle bookshop close to Diagon Alley, and they had hardly been apart ever since. Ron had been mad at first, but eventually he'd come around.

"So, what do you say, Potter?" Draco's face was right before Harry's now, so close he could feel the other man's breath on his skin, so close he was drowning in those cool, grey eyes. "Would you and your charming girlfriend consider coming to my place tomorrow night? For... dinner?"

Without waiting for an answer, Malfoy crossed the distance between them, catching Harry's lips in a kiss. It started out slow, almost tentative, but turned frantic at shocking speed. Before he knew it, Harry found himself pressed hard against Malfoy, cupping his ass through the thin towel, moaning into his mouth as their erections rubbed against each other. He was dizzy with arousal, more than ready to take this further, when Malfoy suddenly let go of his lips and took a step backward, breathing heavily.

"Well?" Draco tilted his head to the side, smiling with just a hint of malice. "Will you come?"

Harry's throat was almost too dry to speak, but he nodded. "I'll talk to her."

"Good. Send me an owl." With a final flash of his teeth at him, Malfoy was gone.

Harry leaned back against the wall, willing his erection to subside. "Merlin!" This reunion had just taken a completely unexpected turn. Unexpected, but by no means unwelcome.

Hermione yawned and stretched, wiggling out of her dress and kicking off her shoes. The reunion had been lots of fun. It had been interesting to see what had become of the others. Some had stayed around, found ministry jobs, built houses. A few were even married with kids already. Hermione made a face at her reflection in the mirror as she shook out her hair and reached for her brush. She was so glad she'd taken the leap and gone abroad for a while. Nothing like being on your own in a foreign city to widen your horizons. She smiled dreamily at some of the memories of her four years in Paris… Those French wizards had definitely been worth a closer look or two.

"'Mione?" Harry popped his head around the corner, eyeing her appreciatively while struggling with his tie.

He looked flushed and happy, and he'd definitely had one or two drinks too many tonight. It was a good thing she had stayed sober enough to apparate them both home to the tiny London flat they shared.

"What is it?" She rose to walk over to him and began to gently free him from the tie.

To her surprise, he seemed a little nervous when he spoke. "I… We have a dinner invitation for tomorrow, actually."

She raised an eyebrow and began to unbutton his shirt, slowly and deliberately. "Who from?"

Harry swallowed, and she noticed he was avoiding her gaze. "Draco Malfoy."

"Who?" She wasn't entirely sure she'd heard right. "But why would he-"

"Well, that's it, you know." The words were tumbling from Harry's lips in a rush now, the way they did when he was nervous about something. "He… may have something more than dinner in mind."

"Something more… Oh. Oh!" Hermione chewed her lip thoughtfully. They had talked about this, once, when they were sharing their favourite sexual fantasies. A third person in the mix… They had both admitted it would be exciting, but had agreed it would be hard to find a suitable candidate. "What makes you think that?"

Harry actually blushed. "Well, he told me how good we both looked. He was quite charming, really. And then he... He kissed me. In the showers, after the match."

"Merlin!" Hermione felt her eyes widen. "Did he really? And, did you like it?"

Harry didn't reply, and he was still avoiding her gaze, but she knew him well enough. There was a faint flush on his neck, and when she moulded herself against his body, her suspicions were confirmed. If even the memory of that kiss was enough to turn him on like this… "You want to go."

Harry's hand travelled down her naked back, pulling her even closer. "Yes. But, do you?"

She shivered under his touch, closing her eyes in pleasure while she considered her answer. If nothing else, she was curious. Would Malfoy really make a move? And, what would it be like to have them both? She truly enjoyed sex with Harry, so it wasn't as if he couldn't satisfy her. Yet, there was no denying that Malfoy was damnably attractive, with that lithe, slender body of his, and those lovely grey eyes… He had been a pain at school, but she was no longer the girl she'd been back then, and he had changed more than any of them. Besides, it was kind of a triumph, if Malfoy wanted her now, after all those snide remarks about her looks…

"Yes." Having made up her mind, she met Harry's gaze without flinching. "Let's do this. We'd never forgive ourselves if we passed up this kind of opportunity."

Harry didn't answer, but the shudder that went through his body at her reply told her more than a thousand words. Picking her up in his arms, he carried her over to their bed with ease. When he dropped her onto the sheets and reached for his belt buckle, a look of single-minded focus on his face, she couldn't hold back a happy moan. This promised to be an exciting night.

Dinner at Malfoy Manor turned out to be a surprisingly enjoyable affair. The food was delicious, the wine exquisite, and Draco was a charming and impeccably polite host. Yes, Harry found he was having a splendid time. Hermione, too, from what he could tell. Fondly he watched her discuss the current political situation in wizarding Britain with Malfoy.

She was so beautiful like this, her face flushed and animated, her eyes flashing fire. Her hair flowed freely over her shoulders and her curves were perfectly accentuated by her short black dress. Harry was immensely proud of her, and the heated looks Malfoy shot her only served to heighten that feeling.

"So, what do you say?" Draco got to his feet in an elegant, fluid movement. "Would you like a tour of the house? It's been extensively renovated since my parents moved out."

"Sure." Hermione allowed him to take her hand and help her up, smiling when he lifted it to his lips.

He surprised them both by turning her hand around at the last moment and breathing a kiss on her wrist. Hermione shivered visibly, and Harry felt an odd stirring of… jealousy? No, not quite. Arousal, definitely, and a strong urge to be a part of what was happening between them. Draco's eyes flickered back and forth between the two of them, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a wicked smile.

"Come on. I'm quite proud of how the place turned out."

He led them through several tastefully furnished rooms, and then up the stairs. Harry had to admit that Malfoy Manor looked a lot less stuffy and palatial than he remembered it. There were a few select pieces of modern art, which made Hermione squeal with delight, and of course she loved the library.

"And here we are. End of the tour." Draco ushered them through a door into what was quite unmistakably the master bedroom.

A large bed dominated the space. Hermione walked toward it, her hips swinging seductively. Malfoy let the door fall shut behind him with an audible thud, leaning against it and watching them both, his grey eyes clear and intent.

When Hermione turned around, she looked uncertain. "What now?"

Draco smiled. "Whatever you want."

Slowly, he advanced toward her, stopping when he was right in front of her, and glancing at Harry, a question in his eyes. Harry nodded, once again tongue-tied. Still moving at a careful pace, giving her lots of time to pull back if she wanted to, Draco bent down to kiss Hermione.

The moment their lips met, she moaned, soft and low, and Harry couldn't bear just to watch them any longer. Two quick steps took him right behind her, embracing her, running his hands up her body to cup her breasts. She moaned again, arching into his touch, and he felt her nipples harden under his hands.

When Draco finally pulled back a little, her lips were swollen from his kiss, full and red and delectable. Locking eyes with her, Draco slowly unbuttoned his shirt, then shrugged it off. His skin was pale, but perfect, smooth and soft, and Harry couldn't resist reaching past Hermione to touch him.

"You, too, Potter." Draco's eyes were dark, his pupils widely blown. "Let me see."

"Harry," Hermione corrected him, placing a finger on his mouth.

"Harry," Draco acquiesced, but his eyes crinkled with amusement, and before she could pull back her finger, he had already caught it between his teeth and sucked hard on it.

She reacted with a full-body shudder, and just like that, Harry was fully hard. With shaking hands, he took off his own shirt, then his pants, adding them to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Draco followed suit, leaving them both in nothing but their boxers.

"You're overdressed, love," Harry breathed into Hermione's ear, and she made a small, humming noise of agreement.

"Well, that's easily fixed," Draco drawled, running a teasing finger along the cleavage of her dress. "Harry?"

He nodded, finding her zipper and sliding it slowly down. The dress slid off her shoulders, pooling at her feet, and Draco was immediately down on his knees to help her step out of it and take off her shoes. Underneath the dress, she was wearing a set of black, lacy lingerie Harry had given her for her last birthday. She looked stunning in it, as she well knew. Stunning and sexy and sinfully gorgeous.

Draco seemed to agree with this assessment, judging from the low sound emerging from his throat. He was hard, too, and obviously bothered by his boxers. With an impatient huff, he got rid of them. Harry did the same, glancing over briefly, unable to resist the urge to compare. No need to worry, though. Draco was an impressive size, but then, Harry had never had a reason to be self-conscious either.

Draco was still kneeling at Hermione's feet, so the next step seemed obvious. With a quick glance up at her face, he firmly took hold of her thighs and pulled her closer, placing a soft kiss on her through the silky fabric of her panties. Harry's own hands found her breasts again, kneading them softly. Between the two of them, they soon had her writhing and begging, swaying on her feet, only held upright by Harry's firm grip.

When Draco pulled down her panties with a final flourish and Harry sneaked a hand between her legs, she was soaking wet. On impulse, he extended his glistening fingers to Draco who eagerly caught them between his lips, tasting her with relish. Harry felt his cock twitch at the sight.

"Merlin, Gr-" Draco caught himself just in time. "Hermione. Will you let me…" He reached past her into the drawer of the bedside table, producing a stack of condoms.

"Yes. Please." Hermione's fingers tightened on Draco's shoulders. "Is this okay, Harry?"

He nodded. "More than okay."

Draco quickly rolled on the condom, unfazed by their eyes on him. "How do we do this?"

Hermione hesitated for a moment, but then a familiar look of determination appeared on her face. Shrugging off her bra, she climbed on the bed and arranged herself on her hands and knees, wiggling her ass enticingly at them. Draco didn't need to be asked twice. Moving behind her, he placed one hand on her hips and used the other one to guide himself into her.

Harry couldn't take his eyes off the scene unfolding on the bed. He hadn't expected this to be such a massive turn-on, watching the woman he loved being taken by another man, but it was immensely exciting. The expression on her face as Draco slowly pushed deeper; the way she arched her back to help him find the perfect angle; the fine sheen of sweat on her skin that made her hair cling to her back…. He was aching with the need to have her, to make love to her, to fuck her. It was an exquisite torture to find himself relegated to mere spectator, and yet he didn't want to miss a second of this. Draco, too, was beautiful: the deep frown of concentration on his face as he held back; the tension in his slim body; and the sheer grace of his movements.

A heart-felt sigh of longing escaped Harry's lips, and Hermione's eyes opened, fixing on him with a mischievous gleam. "Come here."

He gasped when he realized what she had in mind. Kneeling before her, he buried his hands in her long hair, his head flying back on a long sigh when her lips closed around him. Draco echoed his groan, his hands tightening visibly on Hermione's hips as he slowed down to give her a chance to concentrate on what she was doing to Harry.

Harry was beyond words, beyond thoughts even, unable to focus on anything but yes, good, more, don't stop. Hermione's mouth on him felt so amazingly good, hot and moist and perfect, and he couldn't possibly last long like this. When he came, the rush of pleasure was so overwhelming that he actually shouted out loud, his vision going white for a moment.

Draco had been watching him avidly, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. When Harry pulled back, he turned his attention back to Hermione, his hips moving faster now as he pounded into her with increased vigour. She moaned and trembled, but Harry knew it wouldn't be enough. Moving behind them, he took one of Draco's hands, breathing a quick kiss on his shoulder blade.

"Wait. She needs-" He guided Draco's hand around her body, down between her legs.

As soon as their entwined fingers touched her, Hermione cried out, her whole body going taut. It only took a few quick, light strokes to send her over the edge, with Draco immediately following her. It was the hottest thing Harry had ever experienced, both of them coming practically in his arms, both of them going soft and boneless against him.

They all tumbled onto the mattress afterwards, sweaty and exhausted. Draco stared up at the ceiling, his face unreadable, while Hermione snuggled into Harry's arms. For a moment, Harry was unsure of what to say or do, but then he decided that this was not the moment to overthink things.

"Draco?" When the other man shot him a questioning glance, he reached out to pull him closer. "Thank you. That was..."

"Marvellous? Amazing? Mind blowing?" Draco suggested. "Merlin, yes. We should do that again some time."

"We definitely should," Hermione agreed.

Harry sighed contentedly. For the life of him, he could see no reason to contradict them.

Hugs and thanks to my wonderful beta suilven.