Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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.

Chapter List
- 40
- 41
- 42
A/N: Okay, I’ve got five chapters for you all; I’ll post one a day till I get them all up. Just a short note on the previous chapter: Lucius made a comment about Draco wanting to stock Hermione’s new room with bottles and breast pumps, and numerous people asked if that meant that Draco wanted kids. It didn’t. It was just Lucius derisively commenting on what he sees as Draco’s increasingly infantile demeanor and his obsession with her breasts. Sorry for the confusion; I just didn’t know how else to convey Lucius’s thoughts on the matter. Snape’s reply will make more sense in the near future. *cough*-chapters 48 and 49-*cough* (Health update: I did get to the gastroenterologist and had an endoscopy. No word yet, but it’ll take some time for the biopsies to reveal anything. Thank you again for all the support and well wishes. I appreciate you thinking of me.)
DS: “Where did you get ‘Aunt Pittypat’ from?”—Gone With the Wind (it’s in the ending chapter notes).
“and that sinking feeling again . . . I just know she will!”—Draco’s character is designed to bring out certain feelings (in the other characters and in the reader), so that empathy you feel is not misplaced, but I’ll save you some fretting and say that the real conflict will come from a completely different direction (and I haven’t even revealed the main idea of the story yet).
“Have you seen that pic doing the rounds on FB of the snake at the front door talking about the Lord Voldemort? Anyway, made me giggle, as did this.”—Oh gods, yes. I saw it in a meme collection years ago and wished I could unsee it immediately. I don’t know where that picture was taken, but I never want to visit there. Ever.
Alas, Severus is not next. It’s Hermione again (but Snape is there). I’ve got another line up to get posted (five chapters/one scene).
41—Theatre
“In your room, your burning eyes cause flames to arise.”—Depeche Mode
(Hermione) 
Hermione’s weekend was spent in an orgiastic furor of reading. Aura Theory wasn’t a subject she’d ever studied before, and it was wonderfully exciting to pore through a bevy of new books. When she went to work the next week, she was pleasantly surprised by the clarity her new vision brought to the job. It was easy to identify which witches had it out for her around the office, and it was clear when to approach and when to avoid the department heads. Cases, too, began flowing smoothly, the questioning of witnesses no longer hindered by dubious reliability. Liar’s auras went all blotchy and brown like blobs of mud, and weeding out the troublemakers early helped to avoid the setbacks that normally haunted their cases.
But beyond all the practical applications, it was profoundly gratifying to see the colors change around the creatures she was helping. They’d go from sickly hues of worry to bright and calm jewel tones or pastels, and it buoyed her spirits to know she was improving their lives before their cases could even be solved.
Work became less demanding, less draining. Each night she'd head home with Draco feeling tired but fulfilled. And with everything shipshape at the Ministry, it became easier to unwind when the day was done. The men in her life seemed to particularly appreciate that added bonus.
On Friday evening, after a rather steamy walk up the driveway, Draco and Hermione burst through the front door, tearing at each other's clothes, only to find Severus and Lucius waiting for them in the foyer. Her senior Slytherins looked quite pleased with themselves, and she wondered if they’d been shagging without her there to watch.
“What are you two up to?” she asked as she ran to Severus for her after-work hug.
Stroking her head with a sweep of his long fingers, Severus returned her embrace then urged her toward Lucius, who lifted her into his arms and pecked her on the lips.
“We have a surprise for you,” Lucius announced with a smile.
“From both of you?” She was used to Lucius’s random gifts, but a surprise from Snape usually meant she’d go to sleep with a red bum.
“Yes. Are you ready to go see it?”
She couldn't help grinning at the excited energy dancing around his head. It made him look fifteen years younger. “Does this surprise warrant a quick shower?”
“No, not at all.”
Pity. "Okay, I'm game. Where do we have to go to see this surprise?”
"Just upstairs."
“Is this a naked surprise?” she asked hopefully.
“You’ll just have to wait and see.”
Lucius took her by the hand and led her upstairs, but instead of going left toward his room, he went in the opposite direction, toward the wing no one used. When he got to the first room on the right, he released her hand to reach for his wand, and with a flourish, he charmed open the French doors.
“The Granger Palace,” he proclaimed.
Hermione stepped inside and stared around the room in total bewilderment. The walls were papered a shiny, textured silver-grey, and there was an enormous cherry four-poster bed dramatically arranged with its back to the tall picture window, which was draped in creamy curtain swag. A short, sparkly chandelier dripped from the center of the ceiling, casting daubs of rainbow light all over the lush carpet that flowed across the floor smooth as fresh milk. It was gorgeous but not out of the ordinary when compared to the ornate furnishings found throughout the mansion.
What they’d added, however, was truly spectacular: intricate benches that were clearly made for punishment positioning, sex toys all lined up on the bureau, restraints that hung from the ceiling like black streamers, and an entire wall of paddles, floggers, and canes displayed like collector’s items, complete with spotlight accents and decorative wall mounts.
She didn't know whether to blush or drool.
With a hand to her lower back, Severus urged her to explore, and merging to the left, she started with the most intimidating area first. Merlin’s beard. Not only were there enough ropes and cuffs to satisfy any possible bondage scenario, there was a whole rigging system dangling from the ceiling. Which one of them wanted to hang her from the ceiling? 
Probably Snape.
Further along the left wall was the paddling capitol of Great Britain, and seeing it up close only amplified its intimidation. Just the sight of all those riding crops and cat o’nine tails made her backside ache, the snap of the leather echoing in her imagination. Muffy told her to just bend over right there and beg for a spanking so they’d see how wet she’d gotten, but she kept moving, desperate to discover what other panty-drenching surprises awaited her discovery. 
Next to a sizable black leather ottoman sat an antique punishment bench, and it looked as if it would hold open her legs just enough for Snape to see everything. Her body wandered toward it, urging her to climb up and test it out, but her brain derailed her course and steered her toward the curious conglomeration of toys set out on the dresser.
The lacquered bureau was so shiny it reflected a mirror image of the phallic garden that appeared to have sprung from the fertile loam of the aged mahogany. Some of the dildos were glass, and some were silicone, a few were super realistic, and others were modern and ergonomic. She stared at them, utterly confounded. Did they really need that many reinforcements?
Tearing her eyes from the hoard of technicolor toys, Hermione walked around the bed, running her hand over the plush comforter as she passed. The bed wasn’t as big as Lucius’s, but they’d all fit in it easily enough. And those sturdy posts would be handy for tying someone up. 
Hopefully her.
On the other side, sitting out on the wide nightstand, she found even more sexual aids: a variety of harnesses—the purpose of some surpassing her limited knowledge—a chastity belt, various kinds of nipple clamps, and a selection of gags and anal plugs. No kink was unrepresented. They’d be able to do anything to her . . . and she’d be able to do anything to Draco.
Muffy began to laugh wickedly, delighted by the possibilities, but she stopped short when Hermione's eyes moved to the right of the nightstand. A queening throne! How had they guessed? She'd only seen pictures before, but having the real thing at her disposal made her stomach flutter with excitement. She could just picture Draco trapped beneath her, his face buried in her pussy—or maybe her bum—his hands bound to the throne’s frame so he couldn’t move.
Well, these knickers are a lost cause, Hermione mused. Muffy gurgled in agreement. She was going to have to towel herself down if somebody didn’t lick her clean soon.
Turning full circle toward the door, Hermione was absolutely flabbergasted to find the entire remaining corner jam-packed with giant stuffed animals. One of the teddy bears was bigger than her. Next to the menagerie sat a white sawhorse with a padded crossbeam, its purpose a mystery. In the midst of the stuffed animals squatted a white bureau of some sort—about the size of the exam table at Veronique’s. What the hell was all this for? It was cute, but she couldn’t imagine any of them picking it out. Well, maybe Draco. Except Draco seemed just as floored by the room as she did. He trailed behind her, still back by the nipple clamps, studying some of the items she couldn’t identify.
There was a large white rocking chair set before the stuffed animals, and Hermione tipped it back and forth with one finger, just to double check that she wasn’t hallucinating. This room is completely insane. What kind of man displays anal plugs and stuffed animals as equals?
“That door leads to the bathroom,” Lucius said softly. “Why don’t you see what we did to it.”
Good lord, what did he do to the bathroom? Muffy sped her across the floor to find out. She crossed the threshold and blinked at the remodeling in awe. They'd replaced the usual claw-footed tub with a hot tub. It gleamed, sleek and posh, like a spa, and it was big enough that they’d all be able to fit in it together. 
On the counter lay a sparkling new collection of enema equipment, and she tentatively inspected each piece, wondering if her arse was up for the more daunting choices. Snape had provided a variety of nozzles and bags, and there was an enema bulb if he wanted to take his time . . . the flared tip slipping into her rectum again and again, fucking her as he filled her . . . her belly pressing against his thigh as he held her across his lap . . . 
Fabulous. Knicker destruction complete. Hermione wiggled a hand under her skirt and peeled her plastered gusset from the crease of her lips. Her clit was screaming, but she didn’t dare risk masturbating to a counter full of enema supplies. If anyone found her, she'd never hear the end of it.
When Hermione returned to the bedroom, the three of them were just outside the door, their eyes set on her, waiting for a yay or nay.
“So,” Lucius asked, leering at her like a devilish satyr, “what do you think of your new palace?”
Hermione licked her lips and glanced around the room. “I think you spent way too much on all this.”
“No, I didn’t,” he crowed proudly. “The tub is Severus’s transfiguration handiwork. The rest of the bathroom is untouched. In here the only things I bought were those bears and a few of these toys. Everything else was either already in our possession or transfigured. I hardly spent a thing.”
Hermione looked around the room again, reevaluating. She was impressed. He’d done all this for her while honoring her wishes to not spend a fortune. “I think . . .” she paused, searching for the right words. “I think I’m a little scared what you plan on doing to me in here, but to be quite honest, I’m already wet.”
Severus threw Lucius a smug grin. “I told you so.”
Snickering, Lucius waved him off. “Yes, yes, we all know you’re brilliant.”
Severus began to unbutton his black shirt, gliding toward her like a panther in heat. “And for my next brilliant idea, I say it’s time to play. I’ll go start the tub.”
As he drew closer, the sexual energy rolling off him blasted her back like a heat wave. Draco caught her mid-stumble, and the hard ridge of his erection branded her backside; grinding into him, she groaned and clutched his hip to keep her balance. Severus brushed his fingers along her cheek as he passed, a smirk twisting his lips, but as soon as he was gone, Lucius appeared, his eyes as dark as lead and his movements sinuous as silk. Dropping his chin, he studied her the way a wolf studied a hare, his nostrils flaring and his tongue creeping along his lower lip as if he could taste her arousal.
“Let’s get you out of this stuffy suit,” Lucius purred, his fingers trailing down her buttons. “Work is over; Severus says it’s time to play.” He nudged her waist with his rock hard cock, and Hermione’s knees buckled. 
The weekend promised to be one she’d remember.
Repeatedly.
Theatre—A building with a stage where performances take place.
“In Your Room” by Depeche Mode. Written by Martin Gore and released in 1994. https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=1&v=cGvZyrhObrg
Queening throne—I don’t know if I’m allowed to post links to businesses or not, but if you do a google search for “Queening Throne” the first two images (from BDSMgear dot com) are very much like Hermione’s new throne.
- 40
- 41
- 42
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Quartet