Tag Team

"Ronald Arthur Weasley!" she yelled, slamming the kitchen door behind her.

"Oh shit..." Ron hissed, looking across the couch at Harry's snickering face. "Don't laugh... it'll be you next, you know."

Harry flashed him that wide eyed innocent look that may have worked on Dumbledore or McGonagall, but made Ron want to slap him silly. Or kiss him silly. Sometimes he wasn't sure which. He settled for aiming a lumpy throw pillow at Harry's chest.

"You shouldn't have left your Wellies where she could trip over them," said Harry, stifling a laugh and deftly catching the pillow mid-air with one hand. Damn Seeker's reflexes.

"She's in one of those moods. I can tell by the tone of her voice. Wait until she discovers the kitchen."

Ron loved Hermione to the depths of his very soul, but she could be an absolute pain in the arse at times. She was a nag and a bossy so-and-so, but she was also the smartest, sexiest witch alive and Ron thanked his lucky stars every single day she belonged to him. And Harry, of course, but Harry belonged to him too.

"Harry James Potter!" Hermione's voice echoed off the kitchen tiles.

Ron looked at Harry as if to say 'I told you so', but Harry only winked at him in return.

"Yes dear!" Harry called back sweetly, fluffing the throw pillow and arranging it artfully (well, by Ron's dim notions, anyway) with the others on the couch.

"Fred and Angelina will be here with the baby in an hour! Honestly, what have you two been doing all day?"

Ron looked guiltily around the sitting room. Chocolate Frog wrappers, empty crisp packets, the broom maintenance kit Harry had left on the floor in front of the fireplace, the remnants of a particularly brutal game of wizard chess... He and Harry had completely forgotten they were supposed to be getting the house in order while Hermione was out doing the shopping. Granted, Harry had baked the pudding as promised and Ron had indeed de-gnomed the garden as instructed...

"Uh..." Ron looked around for his wand. Harry was busy stuffing a butter beer bottle between the cushions of an armchair. He could hear cabinets banging, dishes clattering, muffled mutterings and rubbish flying into the bin. "Uh, don't come in here, we're... we're naked."

"Oh, bloody brilliant, Ron," mouthed Harry. He had found his own wand and was using it to send the empty crisp packets flying out an open window. "Like that will stop her."

Ron smiled to himself. No... it wouldn't stop her, but it would... well, it would do something. Bloody brilliant, indeed.

"Harry, quick, take off your clothes!"

Harry goggled at him, leaving a slightly mangled rook hovering in mid-air.

Was he going to have to tear the clothes off the boy himself?

"Come on, I've got a plan," Ron said, as he kicked the broom maintenance kit beneath the couch and began shucking his sweatshirt.

Harry just stood there for a moment, his face slowly breaking into a mischievous grin.

"Tag team," he said, smiling, placing a warm hand on Ron's bare chest. Ron shivered deliciously at the touch, recalling one of the many, many reasons he loved Harry so much.

"That's right, mate," he said huskily, fumbling for Harry's zipper. Ron could hear Hermione's angry footsteps approaching. He covered Harry's smile with a deep, penetrating kiss. Drinking him in and absorbing a bit of that raw, intoxicating power that was uniquely Harry. This wasn't entirely for Hermione's benefit, after all.

"What are you two...?" Hermione stopped mid-sentence and stared from the hallway. Out of the corner of his eye, Ron watched as one side of her lovely, delectable mouth began to twitch. Ron could tell she was fighting the uncontrollable urge to smile. And to shag them both senseless, of course.

Neither Harry nor Ron said a word. Instead, they exchanged knowing looks, and approached Hermione where she stood. Ron watched as Harry deftly slipped behind her, pinning her small, pretty wrists to her back with one hand. He watched Harry's other hand slip beneath her summery blouse and his lips softly graze the nape of her neck. Ron watched the angry tension ebb from her body. He watched her long, dark eyelashes flutter against her cheeks, her head tilt back and her lips part with a soft moan. He just took them in for a moment, hungrily. Only for a moment, as Hermione's parted lips and pink tongue were too much for him. He had to have a taste.

***

It just wasn't fair, really, ganging up on her like that, Ron thought as brushed wet tendrils of Hermione's wild, unruly hair away from her glowing face. They had been quick on account of the impending arrival of their guests, but they had also been thorough. Very thorough. Harry, his head resting on Hermione's stomach, winked at him. Oh yes, it was exceedingly unfair. Two against one.

They made quick work of the sitting room and kitchen. Their magic always seemed to work better in concert. Three part harmony. Ron was never quite able to figure it out, but there was a synergy that made the whole somehow better than the sum of its parts. He couldn't explain it, but he could feel it. That was what was important. Even doing something as mundane and simple as housework, they were stronger together than they were apart.