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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.

Chapter List
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- 52
A/N: DS: 45– “Does she really believe that she can love all three equally and that that the quartet can ever be a long-term proposition?”—Hmm, we’ll see :)
“I’m not sure if it’s possible for my cold black heart to experience such a thing”—Pfft! Nonsense! Your heart’s enormous (and most likely pink) :)
“there was a little ‘oh’ after that”—He’s so fluffy, isn’t he :)
“possibly a poodle’ – bahahahah! Loved this.”—Yeeees! I don’t think anyone else mentioned that line, and it’s one of my favs.
46–“this was hot and sweet and beautifully written, it was worth the extra effort”—Thank you!
“where David Brent does the same thing asking ‘am I funny?’”—Hahahaha!
“impeccable timing as always. More than happy to show him exactly where he’s needed BTW :)”—Bahaha!
“but I wonder how fair it is for her to be expecting them all to tell her that they love her”—She doesn’t expect it; but she might want to get her own feelings off her chest :)
“Is she reckless?”—:) Not about love. But I like seeing you debate it with yourself :)

51—Lacrimoso
“. . . close your eyes and think of me, and soon I will be there to brighten up even your darkest night.”—Carole King
(Severus) 
Severus froze, knife poised above the half-chopped zucchini, listening as the ominous, oscillating hum of his alert charms grew to a metallic throb in the cold steel kitchen. 
The front door had been opened—but no one was expected home until dinner. He’d set the security wards to only admit the Malfoys, Hermione, and himself. Anyone else needed an escort. 
But there were ways around that if one was clever enough.
Trading his knife for his wand, he suspended his duties as chef and slipped into the familiar role of spy. He crept through the halls, making his way toward the front door, silent as velvet on satin. As he passed through the shadows of the east wing, he heard someone crying in the foyer, and the anguish of that sound sped his gait to a hushed jog.
He slowed to a stop at the final turn and, taking advantage of the low light and sharp angle of his approach, peered around the corner, his eyes darting in all directions at once. 
What the devil? 
A jumbled heap of what appeared to be Hermione had collapsed into the chair by the front door—and she was sobbing so hard it sounded as if she were about to retch.
“Hermione?” Severus muttered as he entered the hall, his arm dropping to his side, the panic of possible home invasion fading to confusion. “What’s wrong? Why are you home? Are you hurt?”
When he took a knee to search her for wounds, she threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him so hard his vision went dim. What the hell was going on? A reel of horrifying scenarios flickered across his mind’s eye. Was she sick? Had there been an attack? Had something happened to Draco at work?
"Baby?” he whispered, placing his hands on her back to still her shaking. “What’s the matter? Why are you crying?”
“Th-they—they fired me,” she hiccuped. “The whole C-Creature Justice unit is g-g-gone.”
Although somewhat bewildered, Severus held her tighter, relieved no physical harm had befallen her or Draco. “I’m so sorry, love. I know how much that position means to you. But there’s no need to worry; I’m sure the owl offers will be pouring in once everyone hears the famous Hermione Granger is up for grabs.”
Her crying surged to a wail. 
Bloody hell, he didn’t know she was so in love with the Ministry.
“Noooo, they won’t,” she groaned. “H-Harry knows, and so w-will everyone else soon.”
Her reply was so convoluted it took him a moment to work out what she could possibly mean. “While I agree that Potter’s manners are questionable, I hardly think he'll blame you for being let go. And neither will anyone else.”
“No,” she gasped and then hiccuped again, this time in his ear. “I mean, he knoooows. About us. All of us. Everyone has f-figured out I'm shacking up with Draco, and they're already speculating about Lucius. When they find out y-you're here too, th-they're gonna work out what's go-ing on.” Fresh sobs ripped through her in convulsive waves, and she crumpled in his arms.
For a split second Snape couldn’t move. His eyes lost focus, and the chair’s ornate back blurred. Fuuuuuuuuuck!
How long would it take gossip like this to spread? How much time did they have until their lives turned completely upside down? A week? A month?
Severus had long ago accepted the role of outcast, but since receiving that Order of Merlin, he’d grown accustomed to not being reviled. Well, that was over; it had been nice while it lasted. Lucius had never regained his popularity after the war, so he didn’t have far to fall. Draco, however, had made a name for himself at the Ministry, and most people considered him rehabilitated if not outright likable. But for someone as exalted as Hermione, a man needed to be flawless, not just well-liked. Her adoring fans would crucify him.
Fuck fuck fuck! Once this got out, Hermione wasn’t going to have any adoring fans. She’d be branded a traitor. Or insane. And no one was going to hire a witch who lived with three ex-Death Eaters. She’d never be trusted.
Severus sank his fingers into her hair and stroked the back of her head, desperate to protect her from the encroaching storm but unsure how. “Come on, love. Let me take you someplace more comfortable. Keep your arms around me and don’t let go.”
He rose, and as she unfolded, he drew her pencil skirt above her hips so she could wrap her legs around him. When he lifted her into his arms, her thighs wound around his hips without prompting, and she clung to him with a strength born of abject grief. Severus carried her to the drawing room and took a seat on the nearest sofa. While brocaded loveseats and crystal vases had never struck him as soothing, at least her cries were no longer echoing back on them like a torture chamber. Rubbing the nape of her neck, he encouraged her to relax, but she stayed locked around him, her thighs squeezing his hips, her wet face smashed into his shoulder.
She cried as if it were the end of the world, which, maybe for her, it was. Sickened by the idea that her mere association with him had caused so much strife, Severus cursed himself, damning his past and its demons. When he alone had been the sole casualty of his many mistakes, he’d borne the burden without complaint, but now those ghosts had latched onto the one woman he cared about, and the shame of bringing her such suffering made him physically ill.
She didn’t deserve this. Her life was devoted to helping others, to standing up for victim’s rights. Even if she fucked a hundred Death Eaters, that didn’t negate all her years of selfless work and sacrifice. She was a bloody saint—albeit a saint with a smart mouth and a penchant for kink, but that changed nothing! He’d never met such a fireball of fierce care, a witch always ready to speak for those without a voice.
Dammit! May those Ministry parasites rot in hell! Quietly seething, Severus imagined himself as her avenging angel, leaving a trail of bloodied administration personnel scattered across the Ministry’s polished atrium.
He hadn’t had such violent fantasies since the war, and a part of him cringed at the thought of venturing down that bleak road once more. 
But another part of him rejoiced. 
Passion could be either inspiring or destructive—or in his case both—but no matter the result, feeling that strongly about anything gave one’s life purpose; it demanded action and fueled the fire in a man’s belly. A fire he’d forgotten existed until Hermione. In that instant he realized he’d do anything for her. Literally. Anything to keep her safe, to protect her. Anything to make her happy. 
And he knew very well that violence wouldn’t make her happy. Quite the opposite. He just hated feeling helpless, and punishing those who had hurt her, even if it was only in his head, provided some consolation.
Perhaps it was time to seek out a healthier outlet for his anger issues.
When her crying began to slow, Severus used his wand to unclog her sinuses, and that must have been more magical than he’d anticipated, because her next exhalation held no sob, and she settled against him, soft as an angel, the energy around her shifting from woe to recovery.
Relieved, Severus smoothed down her hair with one hand and kissed her fevered temple. “Are you all right to talk? Can you explain to me what happened?”
Hermione tucked her face into his neck and nodded. “Mr. Hiddleman told me they’re cutting several units, and mine was one of them” Her voice had gone hoarse from crying, and each word cracked under the weight of her sorrow. “He said he’d do anything he could to help me find a new job; but then he pretty much told me to find another job as soon as possible, because he’d heard some rumors that might make things difficult for me. He thought they were lies . . . and I didn’t correct him. But then Harry was looking for me, and he started hounding me about Draco, demanding to know if I was really dating him, and when I told him I was living here, he asked me how I was dealing with Lucius; and he must have seen the truth in my eyes, because he freaked out and called me a Slytherin whore.”
Severus saw red. “I’ll kill him,” he growled. “I can’t believe that arrogant little shit actually said that to you!”
She backpedaled immediately. “Well, he didn’t use those exact words. But then he accused me of not being sane and made it sound like I was purposely hurting myself by seeing you three.”
The prickly heat of vengeance melted back down below Snape's collar. “And how did you respond?”
Her body went limp against him, and her shoulders shook as she began to cry again. “I basically told him fuck off.”
Severus smiled into her hair. Good girl.
“I told him I was happy and said if he cared about me, he’d get over it and let me be. Then I screamed at him that I’d just lost my job and made a big scene. So I’m sure by now the entire Ministry knows I've been sacked.”
A frantic pecking came from the window, and they both turned to see a small brown owl fighting the glass pane. Flicking his wand, Severus opened the window, and the bird swooped in with a fretful hoot. Alighting on the arm of the couch, it held out its leg and hopped about as if it had a bomb strapped to its foot rather than a bit of parchment.
Severus removed the scroll and squinted at the minute scrawl. “It’s from Draco. He wants to know if you’re here and if you’re all right. He went to get you at lunch, and someone from your department told him what happened. He says he’s sneaking out early to come home.”
“Write him back so he knows I’m okay. I don’t want him to worry.”
"Are you okay?”
“I don’t know!” She curled into a little ball, practically burrowing into his armpit. “I kind of want to bury myself in a hole and stay there until everyone’s forgotten about me.”
Severus kissed the top of her head, sympathetic to those sentiments. “I promise it won’t always feel like this. Scandals can't go on forever. But . . . if you want to move out to keep up appearances, I think we’d all understand.”
Sitting bolt upright, she gawked at him as if he had five heads. “I’m not leaving! Everyone else may have turned their backs on me, but you three haven’t! You’re here for me every single day.” Fresh tears streamed down her face. “I need you!”
“All right,” he murmured, pulling her back in. “We need you too. I just want to do what’s best for you.”
"You're what's best for me."
Severus pressed his face into her hair. He didn’t know if that was true, but he wanted it to be. “I’ll owl Draco and Lucius and let them know what’s happened. But that can wait until I’ve gotten you settled. Tell me what I can do for you. What do you need?”
“Just hold me.”
“Of course,” he whispered, squeezing her even tighter. “But there must be something more I can do. Would you like to lie down? I could get you a Calming Draught.”
Her stomach chose that particular moment to rumble, and she put her hand to it. “I guess maybe I could do with a snack.”
“I’ll make you lunch. What would you like? A sandwich?”
“Ice cream.”
Snorting, Severus shook his head. “You need real food after the day you’ve had. Actual nourishment. Sandwich first, ice cream after.”
“Will you make me a cheese toastie?”
"I just baked a fresh loaf of sourdough this morning, and we currently have enough varieties of cheese to feed the the entire French army; I can make you the finest cheese toastie the world has ever known. Do you want to change your clothes first?"
“Will you change them for me?”
Sweet Circe on a sultana! Was she trying to kill him? He wanted to strip off all her clothes and kiss every inch of her body until she couldn't remember her name let alone the tragedy of the day. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure if that would be considered selfish or helpful, and he didn’t want to pressure her by asking. “I’ve got some princess panties I’ve been saving for you. Do you want to be my little girl, or do you just want to rest?”
"I want to be your little girl . . . and Lucius will like seeing me in princess panties."
Severus chuckled and rested his cheek against her head. “Who knows; he just might.”
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-
Severus kept her by his side for the rest of the day. She must have been chilly in only a tee shirt and knickers, but she never once complained. While he finished preparing that night’s meal, Hermione picked at her lunch until her sandwich lay crumbled and smeared all over her plate like a greasy crime scene. That ice cream she’d been so excited about having wound up melting to a sugary soup, its chocolate chips wallowing in a swamp of marshmallow goo. Her lack of appetite worried him, but given the circumstances, it was understandable, so he only mentioned the fluid state of her dessert once before vanishing the remains. 
After lunch, in a bid to distract her troubled mind, Severus carried her down to his lab, and she sat on the counter while he brewed. He showed her the progress he’d made with the Tentacula venom, and as the potion simmered, she scoured his notes, searching for any possible solutions to his venom conundrum. She said she couldn’t think of anything he hadn’t already tried, but then, hugging him round the neck, told him she was sure he’d figure it out soon. 
He had to admit, having her in the lab made failing far more pleasant.
When the brewing proved fruitless, and he could no longer bear the sight of his cauldron, Snape carried her back upstairs, and they sat in the library for over an hour, holding each other and kissing. There was no lust involved, just an unhurried brush of lips and fingers that spoke of simple tenderness.
He wound up hard as a rock, which perturbed him, as he wasn’t looking for a lay, but Hermione seemed enchanted by the prodding. And the way his erection twitched in response to her kisses actually got her to smile, so he couldn’t bemoan its unseemly rebellion with any real conviction.
Lucius and Draco returned home at precisely the same time, and both Malfoys burst in on them mid-snog, keen to determine her state of mind for themselves. Draco got to the sofa first, and smooth as silk, pulled her into his lap. The household’s Head Hugger had arrived, and Snape couldn’t have been more relieved. While his own strengths lent themselves to untangling her knotted mind, when it came to mending a broken heart, Draco was the better man for the job.
Draco enveloped her in a hug and proceeded to cover her cheek in a noisy smattering of kisses. “Are you okay, love? Everyone said you bit off Harry’s head and then stormed out. I didn’t hear a peep about all the cutbacks until I ran into Jeanette’s friend, Betty, and she told me six other subsections are gone. I thought I might be able to talk to someone in Shacklebolt’s office about bringing you back, but then I heard they got rid of you because . . .” He glanced at Snape, a look of guilt pinching his brow. “Because of the rumors. They’re saying you were a liability.”
Hermione growled in frustration and pulled at her face with both hands. “I don’t want to talk about the goddamn Ministry anymore! I can't stand all this petty scheming and maneuvering. I’m fighting for creatures’ lives and they’re jockeying for political power! And you notice they conveniently waited till Kingsley was out of town before announcing anything. They knew he’d object, and now they can claim ignorance and pretend they were just doing it for financial reasons.” Her tirade ended as quickly as it had begun, and she slumped as if all the wind had been taken out of her sails. “I feel wretched about yelling at Harry though. He was right to be angry; I should have told him about you straight away. I shouldn't have hidden all this. What kind of person doesn’t even tell her best friends that she’s moved? My God, what if he’d gone to my old flat looking for me?”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to anyone,” Lucius interjected. “If I went arou—“ He abruptly stopped and, narrowing his eyes, looked her up and down. “What are you wearing?”
That seemed to snap her out of her funk. At least temporarily. With a bashful smile, she wiggled out of Draco's lap and smoothed down her shirt so Lucius could see. Printed across the front, large looping letters proclaimed her Daddy’s Little Princes. The cartoon tiaras and scepters on her knickers made for a whimsical exclamation point.
“Don’t I look nice?” she asked quietly. “Severus dressed me.”
Lucius quirked a brow in Snape’s direction. “Did he? I can’t say it’s quite my taste—but I am fond of the princess motif. Do you like it?”
"Mm-hm.” She slipped her arms around Malfoy's waist and curled into him. “He made me lunch too. A cheese toastie with a crown grilled into the bread. Posh, huh?”
Breathing out a surprised chuckle, Lucius grinned at him over her head. “Very. I’m glad someone was here to take care of you.” It sounded as if he genuinely meant that second part.
Severus waited for him to comment on the cheap plastic balls holding her hair in bunches, but Malfoy never said a word; he just lifted her chin and pressed his lips to hers in a long hello kiss.
When he pulled back, his thumb lingered on her cheek, as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching her. “I’m so sorry about your day, love, but please don’t worry about finding a new job right away. I’ve got more than enough money for all of us. I can take care of you.”
“It’s not about the money,” she said with a sigh. “It’s the work. I can’t stay at home, puttering around the manor, when there are so many creatures who need help.”
“I know,” he whispered. “I just didn’t want you to worry.”
A tender smile brightened her face, and she grazed Malfoy's cheek with the tips of her fingers. “Kiss me again. I’m a lot calmer when snogging is involved.”
Lucius bowed his head, his smile matching hers. “I’m at your service, my queen,”
Severus felt the corners of own lips lifting. While he liked being necessary, Draco’s easy affection and Lucius’s calming strength had been sorely missed, and he appreciated their talents even more after trying to fill in for them for five hours. “Hermione love, is it time for your bath now? I’m sure Lucius and Draco would love to join us. Three scrubbers are better than one.”
Hermione’s face lit, and she looked up at Lucius. “I need all the cleaning I can get; I’m a very dirty princess.”
Lucius’s chuckle rumbled through the room. “Sounds perfect. A nice hot bath should help us all feel better.”
Hermione tugged on his hand. “Good. Let’s go right now. Come on, Draco.”
Draco mashed his lips in an apologetic smile and shook his head. “You go ahead, love; I’ll take a shower later. I have to go out. I’ll be back in a bit.”
In a rare moment of overt surprise, Snape’s jaw almost hit the floor. Draco lived for bath time with Hermione. What the hell did he have to do that was more important?
“Where are you going?” Hermione asked in a small voice, obviously hurt by his refusal.
“Just an errand.” Draco flashed her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be back before you know it.” He bent down for a kiss and then gave her hair a playful tug. “Leave in the bunches. They’re making me hot.”
Hermione touched her hair, her mouth twitching in a tentative grin. “Okay.”
After one last peck on the cheek, Draco ran for the door as if he were late for an appointment. “Don’t do anything too fun without me,” he shouted over his shoulder.
Severus almost called him back, feeling the boy's absence before the door had even closed, but positive Draco would never leave at such a volatile time without good reason, he chose to hold his tongue.
Hermione reached out a hand to Severus, wordlessly pleading with him not to hit her with another rejection. “Lucius hardly ever takes a bath with me. Can we show him my new vibrating rubber duck?”
Snape nodded as he rose from the couch to take her hand. “Of course we can. Maybe you should tell him about our other new game.”
She caught on immediately, and her forehead furrowed into three tightly knit rows of apprehension. “Uhh . . . first you two kiss hello.” Before either of them could object, she added, “It'll make me feel better.”
Lucius snickered at her sweet manipulation and gave Severus an appreciative look over her head. Sliding his hand behind Snape’s neck, he leaned in, grey eyes sparking like steel. “I think I’ve got a fairly good idea what you two have been playing.” 
He pressed his lips to Snape’s, and Severus returned the kiss, using his body to trap Hermione between them. Where she belonged.
It had been a few days since their last kiss, and as soon as they met, a sense of calm settled over Severus. Lucius had become the longest lasting, most steady presence in his life, and since moving in with him, his kiss had begun to feel like home. Or what Snape assumed home would feel like if one came from a loving family. Severus relaxed into it, grateful for the support.
When their breathing became too heavy to sound casual, Malfoy broke the connection, his eyes dark with lust, but his lips smug with satisfaction. Clearly he didn’t mind being forced into a welcome-home snog any more than Severus did.
“So,” Lucius said, petting Hermione’s head but looking at them both, “Daddy Death Eater took care of our little princess today. I’m impressed.”
“Don’t call him that,” Hermione chastised. “He was very sweet.”
Lucius nodded. “I’m sure. Did he select this . . . ensemble, or did you?”
She angled her head backward to look at Snape upside down. “Severus picked it out.”
“And after Daddy dressed you, did he sit you in his lap for a horsey ride?”
Hermione sagged a little and rested her face against Malfoy’s chest. “No. I was crying too much for that.”
Lucius grimaced, regret searing every line of his face. “I’m sorry, princess. I know how sad you must be. I wasn’t trying to make light of that.”
“It’s okay.” She placed one hand on his heart as if he were the one in need of consoling. “I am sad, but I feel better now that you’re home. I wish Draco were here, but . . . I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”
“He will be,” Severus murmured and leaned in to pin her firmly against Malfoy. “But in the meantime, Lucius and I are certainly capable of bathing you on our own.”
“I’m looking forward to our bath,” Lucius purred. “I’ve never used a flannel to clean my little princess; she always insists I use my tongue.”
Snickering into his chest, Hermione nodded, making it clear that was the only proper way to bathe a princess. 
Snape’s stomach unclenched. Lucius had already accepted their new dynamic and was using it to help her feel better, adjusting his game to suit her mood.
It was Snape’s turn to be impressed. That was downright magnanimous for Lucius, who usually scorned any kink he deemed unworthy. Malfoy liked to give and take pleasure, but he did so on his own terms, playing by his rules.
And now look at him, decades of sexual prejudice gone in an instant. 
Severus had to hand it to their little miracle worker—she had powers beyond anything he’d ever dreamed.
He just hoped those powers benefited her as much as those she loved. 
She needed a miracle of her own.
Lacrimoso—to play in a sad or plaintive style.
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