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Quartet	By : OracleObscured Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 128263 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 11
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters/things/places created by J.K. Rowling. I make no money from my fan-fiction.

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A/N: RequiredReading--Glad you liked the Draco chapter. :)
38—Syncopation
“You radiaaaaa-a-a-a-ate.”—Fleming and John
(Hermione) 
Hermione smelled smoke and cracked open her eyes, only to find herself standing in the center of a parched and barren clearing, the fried grass crispy beneath her feet. Her eyes darted to her immediate surroundings. Fire. Everywhere. She was encircled by a high wall of flickering orange flames, the forest beyond wavering in the rippling heat. But then, with great relief, she saw that Lucius, Draco, and Severus were there too, just outside the demonic circle.
Undaunted by the smoky peril, Draco smiled brightly and sprinted toward the firewall like a runaway freight train. Hermione held her breath, momentarily paralyzed by terror—speed couldn't render a man inflammable—but Draco emerged from the conflagration without a single mark. Totally safe and whole. She slapped at his clothes in search of lingering embers or injury but found nothing. Were the flames charmed? If they were, then why was it so bloody hot? The sweat rolled down her forehead in blinding streams of salt, and her clothes clung to her like a sticky second skin.
Oblivious to her perspiration issues, Draco wrapped her in his arms and proceeded to snog her to the point of suffocation—but she’d never been happier to have an airway blocked. He was fine. More than fine. At least that’s what the bulge in his trousers seemed to indicate. She held him as tightly as she could, overcome by a mixture of relief, excitement, and joy. Her hand crawled up his shirt, and she dug her fingers into the sinewy muscles sheathing his back, reaffirming his physical integrity for her own peace of mind. His skin felt cool against her palm, like a burbling creek, which soothed her fevered body and dissipated some of the immense heat.
Draco leaned back and, beaming at her as if he were high on Ecstasy Elixer, wove his fingers through her hair and drew her close so his baby blond fringe dusted her forehead. The tip of his nose touched hers, and he shouted over the roar of the flames, “I love you!”
Hermione burst into a delirious grin, her heart bobbing up into her throat on a wave of elation. Was this really the time to spring something so monumental on her? Oh, sod it. There was never wrong time for love. “I love you too!”
Lucius called out to her, and they both turned to see the two older Slytherins eyeing the inferno with growing apprehension. Grimacing with reluctance, Lucius squeezed his eyes shut and barreled through the flames as if he couldn’t bear to be apart from her any longer. Hermione grabbed at him, ready to extinguish his clothing, but once again, there wasn’t a single scorch mark. He wasn’t even pink. Lucius seemed just as surprised, patting at his chest and checking himself for injuries, but when he found none, he smiled gratefully and pulled her into his arms.
“I missed you, princess.”
Hermione stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “I missed you too. Is Severus coming?”
Lucius glanced over his shoulder, and after a thoughtful pause, quietly replied, “I’m not sure.”
Severus glared at the flames as if he’d been burned by them before and was plotting suitable retribution. He looked so alone, a solitary black figure contemplating the insurmountable obstacle that barred his path. Hermione’s heart ached for him. There was no reason for him to feel alone any longer. 
Determinedly, she stomped to the edge of the fire, prepared to pull him across if need be. Fucking hell! The flames definitely weren’t charmed. It was like standing at the gates of hell. But there was no way she’d leave Snape out there all by himself. He belonged with them.
Hermione didn’t want to burn, but she knew Severus just needed a nudge—a sign that he was wanted. Needed. Taking a deep breath to steel her nerves, she thrust her hand through the flickering heat, and when it emerged on the other side, it felt as if she’d plunged into a tornado. She could barely keep her arm from being blown back across the line of fire.
To her shock, the flames didn’t burn her. They couldn’t; she was the same temperature. Fighting the manic push and pull of the wind, Hermione extended her hand toward Snape, but for several seconds he just stared at it blankly, as if its purpose were a mystery.
Then, finally, she felt his long fingers close around hers, and the howling gale grew so loud she sqinched her eyes shut and slapped her free hand over her ear to block out the roar. 
But throughout the tumult she never gave up her hold on Snape.
When Hermione peeked out to see if he’d made it through the fire, she found herself staring at a ceiling. Lucius’s ceiling. Hadn’t there been a mirror there a moment ago? Or fire?
Severus knelt at her side, wiping her forehead with something cold; and Lucius was on her other side, his usual pompous expression marred by concern. What was going on? And why was she so hot?
“There you are,” Snape murmured.
Everything was too loud. And bright. She flinched away from the glare of the room. “What happened?”
“You passed out. You’re all right now.”
Tell that to the rotating room.
“I’ll get her some chocolate,” Lucius volunteered.
Severus wiped her brow again. “We’ve got some water here whenever you want it.”
She was pretty thirsty. Parched actually. Hermione rubbed her face to wipe away the electric cobwebs of unconsciousness that still tickled her skin.
"Here, love," Lucius said, tucking something into her palm. “You’ll feel better once we get some chocolate into you.”
Hermione peered at her hand and, after identifying the nugget, took a small bite. Closing her eyes, she sucked on the rich mouthful and waited for her head to clear. What a strange night. She’d never passed out from shagging before, and she couldn’t say she was overly fond of sexual syncope. And why did she keep remembering a fire? Was her brain overheating?
As the throbbing in her skull faded, she peeked open her eyes to see if things had stopped spinning. The room seemed less mobile, but Severus and Lucius were studying her closely, making her feel like an animal exhibit at the zoo.
“Is it too bright in here?” Severus asked.
“Yes,” she whispered.
With a wave of his hand, the room dimmed to just 1000 watts. Much better. 
“Could I have that water now?”
Severus turned to the bedside table for the glass. “Are you sure you’re ready to sit up? There’s no rush.”
“I’m really bloody thirsty,” Hermione croaked. Wait, something’s not right here. “Where’s Draco?”
They looked around, and Severus gestured toward the shadowed sitting area, where the light from the remaining candles was too dim to reach. “He’s right here, waiting for you to recover.”
Hermione squinted into the semi-darkness; her eyes bleary. Why wasn’t Draco with her? He was always the first one holding her hand and kissing her better. Not that Severus and Lucius weren’t doing a fine job, she was just confused by Draco’s absence.
Lucius helped her sit up, and Severus handed her the glass, hovering by her side to make sure she didn’t drop it. Hermione wasn’t going to drop it; she might, however, chug it till she burst open like a fire hydrant. The first sip was nothing short of H2Oh-my-God! Her throat felt like sand. She wasn’t sure if she was drinking or absorbing. Or maybe it was turning to steam before it reached her stomach. Lifting her other hand, she rubbed her hazy eyes as she took another deep gulp.
Snape braced her back with one arm and used his thumb to massage her spine in a slow circle. “We should have been more careful. Maybe three in a row was a bit optimistic for your first time.”
Her lips curved up into a weak smile. “Are you barking mad? That was glorious. I honestly don’t know what happened. I was fine after I came.”
Severus held the glass for her while she took another bite of her chocolate. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Smiling.”
Lucius sputtered out an unexpected laugh and stroked her face with the backs of his fingers. At least one of them thought she was funny. 
Severus still looked deathly serious. He folded the flannel and placed it behind her neck. “And you felt totally fine then?”
“Amazing,” she assured him and then rubbed her eyes again.
“Does your head hurt?” Severus asked, sounding concerned.
“Not anymore, but my vision’s all wonky.”
“What do you mean?” He gently turned her chin toward him. “Look at me.”
Hermione met his pitch-black gaze, blinking hard to dispel the floaty haze surrounding his outline.
“Lucius, get my wand. I want to make sure she’s all right.”
Lucius handed it over, and Hermione waited, nibbling her chocolate while Snape cast several diagnostic charms at her head. They were all clear.
Severus brushed the cool pad of his thumb along her cheekbone and tipped his head to one side as if he needed a new perspective on the situation. “I can’t find anything wrong. What are you seeing?”
“You’re all glowing.”
Snape’s eyes shifted over to Malfoy, and she saw a flash of solicitude pass between them.
“Do you mean just us or everything in the room?”
She looked around. "Just you three."
“Glowing how?” Lucius asked, a perplexed furrow crinkling his forehead.
“Like . . . medieval paintings of halos, expect around your whole body.”
Severus leaned in, and after a full minute of visual scrutiny yielded no answers, he murmured, “Don’t blink,” and held his wand to her temple.
She knew he was searching her mind, rifling through her memory to see if there was some trauma she’d forgotten while she was unconscious, but he must not have come across any pertinent information, because he withdrew with a disappointed shake of his head.
“I can’t find anything strange. Do you feel sick?”
“Not at all. I feel fine now.”
“Can you tell me more about what you're seeing?”
She sighed. That was hard to describe. “You're all a bit different, but it's kind of like when a prism shines on the wall. You know, sort of dancey and shimmery.”
“Describe what you see around me.”
Studying the borealis surrounding his head and shoulders, she slowly replied, “Wavy colors. Silver. Shiny. But there’s a lot of black in there too.”
“Sounds like you,” Lucius quipped.
“What about Lucius?” Severus asked, ignoring the jibe. “Is he the same color?”
“No. He’s . . . dark red,” she reported after checking Lucius’s palette.
“What about Draco?”
Hermione could just barely pick up a glimmer in the distance, but the poor lighting made it difficult to see. “I’m not sure. Hold on.”
She started to climb out of bed, but Severus and Lucius restrained her.
“Hold on a second,” Lucius admonished. “Maybe you shouldn't be walking around just yet.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m fine,” she protested. “Let me go.”
After a silent eyeball conversation over her head, they both reluctantly released her, and Hermione patted their hands reassuringly before wiggling down to the end of the bed. Draco was silent in his chair, watching her approach; she could see the shine of his eyes reflecting the guttering candles, but the rest of him was shrouded by shadow.
Easing off the bed to test her legs for durability—as falling on her face would have seriously undermined her earlier insistence on independence—Hermione carefully padded across the room and climbed into Draco’s naked lap.
No longer obscured by darkness, the pained expression twisting his features became immediately visible, stopping her cold. He looked miserable. And nauseated. “Draco,” she whispered. “What is it? Are you all right?”
He shook his head.
“What’s wrong, love?”
“I feel sick.”
“Sick? What kind of sick?” she asked as she pressed a hand to his brow. “I’m sure Severus has something you can take; I’ll get it for you.”
Draco tipped back his head and, closing his eyes, blew out a tense exhalation through his pursed lips. “Nervous sick,” he whispered. “I thought you were never going to wake up.”
Hermione glanced over at Snape and Lucius; they were watching her but talking quietly between themselves, unaware of Draco’s tenuous emotional state. Draco was obviously trying to hide his reaction from them, and she didn’t want to out him by making a scene. Smoothly sliding her arms around his stiff shoulders, Hermione hugged him as tightly as she could and whispered in his ear, “It’s all right. I’m fine now. I’m sorry I scared you.”
Draco buried his face in her neck, his breath breezing hard and fast over her skin. She rubbed the back of his head to calm him, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. His shoulders heaved, and she felt the wet warmth of tears splatter her skin as he began to silently cry.
“Oh God, Draco,” she whispered, hugging him tighter. “It’s okay.”
She hadn’t seen Draco cry in ages. And never sober. Despite her surprise, she understood. His most debilitating moments of misery all hailed from the same painful source. Hermione put together the pieces of the puzzle she’d been given and winced at the picture presented. Seeing her passed must have brought back all the memories of his mum during her final days. Unconscious in her hospital bed. Never to return. Merlin’s buggering bollocks, I probably scared the shit out of him.
“Please don’t ever leave me,” he rasped.
“I won’t,” she promised. “Not ever. I’m never letting you go.”
Draco grasped her shoulder as if he could maintain his composure if he just held her tightly enough. Hermione’s heart went out to him. She’d been in the same frame of mind after the final battle, clinging to everyone who’d made it through alive as if she could keep them from disappearing if she just held on a little tighter, a little longer. 
Wiping the tears from his face with her fingertips, she kissed his damp cheek. Who would have ever guessed that the pompous git she'd met her first day at Hogwarts would grow up to be the most heartbreakingly sensitive man she knew. Even though she felt awful for him in that moment, she was amazed by the changes he'd made in his life.
Lucius's snide voice cut the room like a dagger. “Are you crying? For Merlin’s sake, son. Grow a pair and get ahold of yourself. I thought—“
Hermione whipped her head around and fixed him in a furious glare. As soon as the heat of her anger hit him, he fell silent. Draco had cringed away from the verbal attack, but she blocked him from any more barbs with the protection of her body.
“I can’t believe you, Lucius,” she hissed. “Draco can feel any damn way he pleases. And since he’s the only one of you with the balls to cry in front of me, maybe you’re the one who needs to sac up.”
Snape and Lucius both gaped at her in shock.
“You didn’t mock me for crying earlier, so why would you say such a thing to your only son? We’re both human beings, and our sex organs do not preclude or absolve our tears. Don’t you ever say anything like that ever again.”
Lucius blinked, his face frozen in stunned bewilderment. Severus glanced at his friend, and she knew he was wondering when Lucius would explode. Hermione steeled herself for just such a battle.
But Lucius didn’t explode. He merely sat back against the pillows, a thoughtful look of befuddlement tilting his features at an odd angle.
Hermione kept one eye on him as she pulled Draco in for another hug. “It’s all right, love” she murmured. “You can be scared and sad all you like. You can feel any way at all.”
He panted against her neck, and his arm clenched so she was trapped against him.
“You are such a sweet boy,” she cooed, kissing his cheek. “Would you like to go to bed now? You’ll feel better after a good night's sleep.”
He nodded.
“Okay. I’ll take you. Come on.”
Draco wiped his face, and she took his hand, pulling him out of the chair as she rose from his lap.
“Don’t worry about them,” she said under her breath.
Draco kept his eyes down, but he followed her willingly, his hand gripping hers so she wouldn't let go.
When they reached Draco’s side of the bed, Hermione calmly addressed Severus and Lucius, “I hope you’re both tired, because we’re ready to go to sleep.”
Severus said nothing, but he made way for Lucius to return to his usual spot. Lucius budged over, still watching her with an expression of ponderous confusion, and when they were back in their regular places, Hermione climbed up and pulled Draco in after her. 
“Come on, love. Get under the covers.”
Draco had a similar dazed look to match his father’s, but he did as she said and slid in next to her. Hermione got him settled then drew the sheet around his chest and pecked his lips. “There,” she said, patting his heart. “You can rest now. We’ll talk about this tomorrow if you like.”
He nodded again, his shoulders incrementally relaxing.
Placing a light kiss to the tip of his nose, she whispered, “Good boy,” in his ear.
Turning, Hermione eyed Lucius and Severus. She hadn’t snapped at Snape, so he had no reason to be wary, yet she couldn’t help noticing he appeared mildly flummoxed. But maybe also a little amused.
“In answer to your earlier question, Draco’s color was bright yellow, like a lemon. But . . . now that he’s calmed down, it’s shifted to a pleasant green.”
Snape’s eyes shot over to Draco, and she could see the wheels in his head churning to life. Leaving him to his musings, she reached out to Lucius, resting the back of her hand on Snape’s ribs.
Lucius stared at her as if he didn't understand the gesture, so Hermione wiggled her fingers until he finally got the hint and placed his hand atop hers.
Smiling softly, she stroked his fingers. “I care about all of you very much, and I would fight to defend each of you. I’m not angry with you. I know what kind of man you really are. But if I’m going to live in this house, no one’s emotions will be ridiculed. Not Draco’s. Not yours. Not Snape’s. Not mine. If we’re going to make this work, we have to be honest with each other, and that means we can't hide how we feel. I know that’s harder for you and Severus, and I’m willing to be patient. Do you want to be honest with me?”
For a moment his face lost all life, and she could see the hesitancy dulling his grey eyes like storm clouds. But to his credit, he nodded.
Hermione squeezed his fingers. “I’m glad.” Climbing over Severus, she wrapped her arms around Lucius and pressed her lips to the side of his neck. “You’re not a monster, Lucius. I would never feel this way about a man who didn’t have a good heart. Don’t forget how much I need you.”
He suddenly engulfed her in a desperate embrace, his body shuddering and his exhalations rough with restraint. “You continue to amaze me, princess. Or should I call you warrior princess now? I thought you were going to set me on fire with your glare earlier.”
Hermione kissed his cheek. “Never. Just because I get upset doesn’t mean I’ve stopped caring about you. You and Severus and Draco make me happier than I’ve ever been. I’m not going to give that up without a fight. I know we don't always talk about it, but I care about you and think about you all the time. All of you. You’re never not in my heart.”
She could hear him swallowing, and the muscles in his neck bulged as his jaw clenched. He was eating his feelings again. She wished he'd just let them out before he choked.
“Thank you, princess,” he whispered.
Hermione kissed him for real then. Deep and slow. He returned the tenderness, his tongue no longer dueling with hers but dancing. Dipping. Flickering. Rolling. She sighed into his mouth and carded her fingers along the roots of his hair to pull him closer. She wanted him to feel just as safe as Draco did. He deserved a good night's sleep too.
When they finally pulled apart, they were both out of breath, and her lips were starting to swell. Caressing the line of his jaw, she brought his face to hers so she could nuzzle his adorably aristocratic nose. “Goodnight, Lucius. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He turned his head to press a solemn kiss to her palm. “Goodnight, Hermione.”
He helped her crawl back over Snape, and when she’d returned to her usual spot, she shifted about until she was face to face with the pale Potions master. “That all goes for you too; I know you were listening.”
His brooding onyx eyes never left hers. “Hermione the lionhearted. You’re so quick to get over my knee and suck my cock, I’d started to forget that you’re not all submission and embarrassed blushes.”
Smiling, she nodded at his assessment. “I guess I’m a whole lot of things. But it’s all me. You can’t have some without the other.”
The corner of his lips ticked up on one side. “No, you can’t.”
“But I know you know how much I need you. I love the way you make me blush.”
His half-smile pulled to a smirk. “And I love seeing it. Was that enough honesty for one night?”
Hermione laughed. “From you it was an outright confession. I’m proud of you.”
Snape’s eyes blustered with consternation, and she guessed by his reaction that that wasn’t a phrase he heard too often. It seemed to really throw him. So much so that he changed the subject.
“If your vision isn't better by tomorrow, we’ll take you to a specialist.”
“Do you really think it might not go away?”
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t worry about it. If it’s not hurting you, then I see no cause for alarm.”
Hermione leaned in to kiss him, but he suddenly jerked back, peering into her face so intently her stomach swooped with unease. Catching her chin in his hand, he turned her head back and forth.
“What?” she asked.
“I thought I saw something.”
“Where?”
“In your eyes. It must have just been a trick of the light.” He didn’t sound entirely convincing, but when he touched his lips to hers, she silenced her misgivings in favor of a much-needed goodnight kiss.
Severus initiated kisses so infrequently it was like a sighting of Halley’s comet. But in one night he’d done it not once but twice—really kissed her—lips and tongue joining together to lay waste to her brain.
Snape pulled back, and somehow, that same devious smirk still stained his lips. “Goodnight, Miss Granger.”
"Goodnight, Professor Snape.”
“Don’t get smart with me, little girl. I haven’t forgotten your spanking tomorrow.”
“I haven’t either,” she assured him. “No backsies.”
“No whatsies?”
Draco laughed, and she was glad to hear it.
“She means you can’t go back on your word.”
Snape arched a brow as if offended. “A promise is a promise.”
“Good,” she said brightly, pleased that her fainting spell hadn’t cancelled the morning spanking. It was her favorite way to begin the day. Snuggling down next to him, Hermione twisted around and rolled onto her back. “Come on, Draco. I know what makes you feel better.”
Draco rested his head on her heart, and Hermione wrapped her arm round him as she reached over Severus to hold hands with Lucius. His fingers wound through hers, and she sighed contentedly as a fuzzy cloak of peace bundled her heart in a warm hug. Closing her eyes, she smoothed her thumb along Draco’s shoulder in a drowsy tick tock to help him sleep. The tendons in Snape’s arm shifted in a similar rhythm, and she found the slight rocking to be a potent relaxant.
It took her a minute to realize he was stroking Draco’s head.
And Draco hadn’t flinched an inch.
A secretive smile stole over her face. What an interesting turn of events. The kind of interesting that made her want to pin them together and hump something hard.
How long had that been going on? Was there something sexual happening between them, or was Snape just being nice? Either way, it was incredibly touching. And therapeutic. Severus was finding a home for all his repressed emotions, and Draco was getting acceptance and affection from a man who could have been his father. Too bad it wasn’t actually his father.
Still, it was a big step forward for both of them. In fact, once she gave it some thought, the whole night had been rather cathartic. For everyone. She’d have to think about that more in the morning, because her eyes absolutely refused to remain open a second longer.
Hermione quickly drifted into a deep sleep, where she dreamt of a three-headed snake who valiantly protected her garden. Despite the rarity of three-headed serpents, she was neither frightened nor surprised by its presence.
Snakes were a good omen in any garden.
Syncopation --In music, syncopation involves a variety of rhythms which are in some way unexpected which make part or all of a tune or piece of music off-beat. More simply, syncopation is a general term for "a disturbance or interruption of the regular flow of rhythm": a "placement of rhythmic stresses or accents where they wouldn't normally occur. --source: Wikipedia
"Radiate" by Fleming and John.
Written by Fleming McWilliams and John Painter (who are husband and wife) and released in 1999 on their album The Way We Are.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=P9Srb1Nz7Bs
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