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. |
A/N: Okay, I’m getting neurotically obsessive about editing, so that means it’s time to post.
Next release will be a single chapter as well (and except for the epilogue I think it’s the last single chapter release for the rest of the story.) It is the shortest chapter of all (currently weighing in at 950 words), but the whole thing needs to be rewritten, so I have no idea how long it’ll take (or how long it will be once I’m finished with it). But I shall return as soon as it’s presentable :)
56—Impromptu
“The boy is mine.”—Brandy & Monica
(Lucius)
Lucius took his usual seat at the kitchen table and riffled through that morning’s Daily Prophet, rapidly scanning each page before flipping to the next. There was supposed to be an article about Hermione's charity, and he wanted to read it before she came down for breakfast.
She'd made great strides in only a month’s time—so either people didn't care that she was shacking up with the three of them, or they hadn't heard yet. Due to the lack of death threats, he was betting on the latter.
Ah! There she was! Hermione’s radiant smile lit up the entire top half of the “Community News” section. Potter and Weasley flanked her on either side, and they each had an arm draped over her shoulders in a phalanx of joyous camaraderie.
His eyes dropped to the article below:
The Golden Trio Gives Back
Magical beings everywhere, rejoice! The Phoenix Fire Foundation is here to fight for you! Founded on the principles of magical equality and brotherhood, the Phoenix Fire Foundation is the first of its a kind: a charity devoted to the aid and representation of all magical creatures. Never before has a witch or wizard attempted to bridge this massive and often overlooked chasm between the species. But if there’s one witch who has proven she’s up to the challenge, it’s war hero, and outspoken champion of creature rights, Hermione Granger
“I believe that everyone deserves to be heard. The truth needs to be told, and someone needs to stand up and say enough is enough. For too long non-humans have been dismissed, their problems swept under the rug like a dirty secret. I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen anymore. If you’re being treated unfairly, or if you’re in danger, please contact The Phoenix Fire offices in London. Your story matters.”
Ms. Granger’s impassioned plea has already drawn hundreds of hopeful creatures. She sits down with each of them, one on one, and every creature we interviewed had the same awestruck reaction: “She really listens, and she really cares.”
But it’s not just Hermione Granger making her voice heard. Her best friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, are encouraging everyone to lend a hand. “This is a big job,” says Harry Potter, “and Hermione can’t do it all on her own. If you have the time or money, please get in touch. There are so many creatures who need our help.”
The-boy-who-lived pleading for people-who-care. If you would like to show your support, please contact the offices and let them know how you can contribute.
“Even if you just knit or sew, we need things like blankets and sometimes clothes,” Ron Weasley added.
“Kindness has been pouring in,” Ms. Granger assured us, gesturing toward boxes of donated supplies. “But there’s always so much more to do. Please stand up for our magical brothers and sisters. Their liberation is everyone’s liberation.”
Ms. Granger is a powerful voice in the fight for magical equality, and she’s ready to take on her opponents. Her track record speaks for itself: fifty cases—all successfully resolved. And she says she’s just getting started.
“Every case I take on is personal to me. After everything we went through, everything we fought for, it pains me to see creatures still living in fear—all the while thinking they have nowhere to turn. That ends today. I’m here, and I’m on your side. And there are plenty of other people here at the Foundation who will stand with you. You are not alone.”
If you would like to add your voice to Ms. Granger’s, she invites you to stop by the offices, which are located two blocks west of Diagon Alley, next to Tea for Two and across from Fezziwhig’s Animal Emporium. Business hours are from 8 A.M. to 7 P.M. Monday–Friday, but a 24-hour guard is on duty if any creature needs a safe place to stay at any time. “Day or night, we’re here for you,” Ms. Granger told us with a warm smile. “Our doors will always be open to those in need.”
A giddy laugh bubbled in Lucius’s chest. Bloody hell, she had that reporter eating out of her hand!
“How’s the article?” Snape asked as he set a stack of steaming crepes on the table and picked up the pitcher of pumpkin juice.
“It's good. Very positive. She’ll love it.”
“Thank Merlin,” he muttered, splashing some juice into his own glass before starting on Hermione’s. “She needs to relax.”
“Well, I hardly think this is going to help her relax. She’s just going to work even harder to live up to the hype.”
"I know,” Severus sighed. “But maybe this will bring in some new help and she won’t have to do everything herself.”
Lucius snorted. “Hermione? Outsource her life’s work? I won’t hold my breath.”
“Mm,” Severus grunted in agreement. “I’m going to have a talk with her this weekend. At the rate she's going, she’ll be completely burned out by the end of next month.”
“By talk, do you mean tie her to the bed so she can’t work?”
Snape looked up, the hint of a leer on his lips. “But of course.”
“I get to watch.”
“You’ll do more than watch. I think all three of us might have to gang up on her and have an intervention.”
“Sounds therapeutic. I’ll bring the jewels.”
“I’ll bring the paddle.”
“What’s Draco going to bring?”
Severus snickered. “Depends on his mood. The riding crop perhaps . . . or possibly a litter of kittens. You never know with him.”
Lucius reached around the paper to blindly spear a crepe onto his plate. “Is it just my imagination, or has that boy become even more annoying lately?”
Severus pursed his lips in a reproachful frown. “He just misses Hermione. I think he’s going through withdrawal.”
“Have you been filling in for her?” Lucius asked nonchalantly. He'd seen the way Draco had been looking at Severus—and the looks Severus had for him in return.
Snape took his usual seat across the table and shook out his napkin before spreading it over his lap. “Does that upset you?”
Lucius bit his tongue. He found arguing with Severus distasteful under any circumstances, but without the proper levels of coffee in his system, picking a fight just sounded like an unnecessary headache. Hitching one shoulder in a weak shrug, he feigned indifference. “Are you fucking him?”
“No!”
“What? That’s too far? Sex I could at least understand, but you’ve actually been kissing him goodnight, haven't you?”
Snape’s gaze never wavered. “It helps him sleep.”
Lucius rolled his eyes. “Please.”
“All right, it helps me sleep.”
“I knew it,” Lucius crowed, his smirk triumphant. “Never thought I’d live to see the day. What the devil’s happened to you?”
“Me? What about you?”
“What about me?”
"You've been letting Hermione handcuff you to the bed.”
Malfoy looked down at his coffee, shocked he’d been found out. “She likes to tease me—it’s harmless fun. And I’m not handcuffed to the bed . . . just to my other wrist. Either way, I hardly think you’re in a place to comment, daddy dearest.”
Severus peered at him, a smile breaking through his usual stoicism. “So, we’ve been living with her for a grand total of four months now . . . What do you think, are we already pussy-whipped?”
Lucius couldn’t help laughing. “I certainly hope so.”
Snape's low chuckle echoed around the room like velvet thunder. When it died to a soft sigh, he took a sip of coffee but studied Lucius over the rim of his cup. “You know,” he said slowly, “I could kiss you goodnight as well. Hermione would love that.”
Hermione would love it. Lucius wasn’t hating the idea either. “Think it’ll help me sleep?”
"Couldn’t hurt.”
Nodding, Lucius turned back to his paper, surreptitiously checking the clock to see how much longer till bedtime. “I suppose I could try it for a while.” With another glance, he assessed Snape’s mood and deemed it propitious. “Speaking of Hermione and all that she loves, have you . . . returned her sentiments yet?”
Snape’s lip curled in a sneer of discomfort—or possibly nausea—and he lowered his fork as if he could no longer abide the sight of his sausage. “I can’t say it.”
Lucius nodded sympathetically and, looking down, ran the pad of his thumb around the lip of his coffee cup. “I think I’m going to tell her soon.”
Shoulders sinking, Severus turned his eyes toward the ceiling in a frustrated half-roll. “Marvelous. Then I’ll be the only one not saying it.”
“I know, and I don’t want that to happen—for your sake or hers—but I need to tell her.”
“You just don’t want her to like Draco more than you.”
“Of course I don’t want her to like Draco more than me!”
Severus flinched, his expression tinged with remorse. “She doesn’t,” he said in a gentler tone. “I’ve been in her head. She loves us all equally. And she doesn’t care that we don’t say it.”
“Yes, she does,” Lucius shot back. “You know perfectly well she does. Everyone wants to be told they’re loved. And I want to say it. It's eating me alive.”
Snape didn’t reply.
Lucius took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. “I’m not trying to ruin your morning. Honestly,” he murmured. “I just didn't want you to be blindsided by my decision, and I certainly don't want to make you the odd man out. But, Severus, I think you might be approaching this whole concept from the wrong angle. If you did tell her . . . that won't mean the things you felt in the past never happened.” No way was he mentioning Lily’s name first thing in the morning. He didn’t want to come home to a poison soufflé. “You don’t have to stop loving one to love the other.”
Snape’s jaw appeared to be set in stone. Bloody hell, that man had a piercing stare.
“Hermione specifically told me she’s fine with me still loving Narcissa. In fact, she seemed encouraged by it. She says it means I don’t love lightly, that I really mean it. So I’m sure she’d understand your situation.”
One black eyebrow rose, but the rest of his face remained lifeless.
“Just think it over, Severus.”
Severus looked away, his face pinched, deep in thought. “Saying it seems so . . . final.”
“That's precisely why I want to say it. It is final for me. I want her to know she’s safe here, that she can depend on me for everything.”
“You don’t feel as though you’re leaving Narcissa behind?”
Lucius winced and set down his coffee. “Narcissa is always with me. I’m not leaving her behind. I’m just . . . opening a new chapter in my life. And to be honest, it’s already open; all I'm doing is putting a title on it.”
Snape nodded as if considering that.
Risking a hex, Lucius dared to utter the L-word, “Why don’t you just tell her about Lily?”
“She already knows.”
“You told her?”
“No. She already knows.”
Did that man have to be so mysterious at such an early hour? “Then I’m sure she understands your reticence.”
“I’ll think about it.”
They both heard Hermione giggling, and turned to see her stumble through the kitchen door with Draco, the two of them grappling with each other like a couple of randy teenagers.
“Crepes!” Hermione cheered. “I’m sooooo hungry.”
“After everything I just gave you?” Draco asked in mock disbelief. “I thought you were full.”
“Never!” She leaned in and kissed Snape’s temple. “Morning. Why do you look so serious? Is something wrong?”
Severus shook his head and pointed at her plate. “Sit down and eat, love. You have a busy day.”
After brushing an inky hank of hair from his face, she pecked his cheek. “I’ll be home for lunch today. Can I sit in your lap while I eat?”
Snape’s scowl lightened. “Yes, of course you can.”
Hermione pressed her lips to his ear, whispering so only he could hear.
She was telling him she loved him. She told them all every morning, but she only said it out loud to Draco, as if anything above a whisper might spook the two older men.
Snape met Lucius’s eye as she took her seat, and Lucius could tell Severus wanted to say those words just as much as he did.
Hermione leaned over and kissed the corner of Lucius’s mouth. “Morning.”
“Good morning, princess. Guess what I saw in the Daily Prophet this morning.” He waggled the newspaper at her.
“My article?” she exclaimed, grabbing it up and searching the headlines.
“Mm-hm. Page six.”
She pawed through the first pages and upon seeing herself, broke into a bouncy dance. “This is great. Hopefully it’ll bring in some volunteers. We need more people to answer all the owls we’re getting.” Hermione turned to him. “What are you doing today?”
“I have to look at some property in Wales and then go to the bank for a few meetings.”
She skewered a sausage link with her fork and lifted it to her lips. “Will you be home at the usual time?”
“I will. Will you?”
Grimacing guiltily, she raised both shoulders. “That’s my plan, but I always seem to get tied up with something unexpected.”
At the mention of her getting tied up, Lucius flashed Severus a secretive look, and Severus hid his smile in his coffee.
Draco scooped up his stack of crepes and, after arranging three sausage links in the center, folded everything over into a sandwich. “I’ve got a meeting this morning. I’d better run. See you after work, love.” He walked around Snape’s chair and kissed Hermione’s poofy head before speeding toward the door. “No working late,” he called over his shoulder. “I get anxious when you’re not here.”
“I’ll try. Wait! come back here.”
Spinning around, Draco jogged back to her side.
Hermione tugged on his tie so he’d bend down, and when he was in her face, she rubbed her nose over his and pecked his lips. “I love you, Draco. Be good today.”
"But it's so fun to be bad,” he retorted with a devious smile.
Grinning, she poked him in the chest. “I know what you’re trying to do. You can’t be bad just to get my attention. You’re not going to like how I handle that.”
“Yeah? We’ll see. You can’t reprimand me if you’re not home, so I’m not too worried.”
Hermione appeared a bit hurt by yet another slight on her obsessive work habits, and Draco must have noticed, because he placed a smattering of loud kisses across her cheek then buried his face in her neck. Squealing in delight, she pretended to struggle against him.
Draco laughed and placed a final kiss to the top of her head. “I love you. See you when you get home.”
Gasping with giggles, Hermione could only nod.
On his way to the door, Draco’s hand brushed along Snape's arm in an absent caress. “Bye, Severus.”
Snape met Lucius’s eye to see if he saw. “Goodbye, Draco.”
Jealousy pounded though Malfoy's veins like throbbing magma—That is MY man!—but his outburst was tempered by the flash of affection sparkling through Snape’s gaze.
Well, well, well. What have we here? Had Draco already breached Snape's defenses? This was more than goodnight kisses and long talks in the library. Severus had become attached.
And despite what everyone thought, Lucius wasn’t so selfish he would deny that man the human contact he so obviously needed.
He just wished Severus could have “connected” with someone other than Draco. Not just because Lucius couldn’t stand the thought of Draco stealing his lover, but because he knew Severus had been subtly supporting and guiding the boy, and he didn’t want anyone usurping his role as father.
Although, to be fair, he might have dethroned himself. No one wanted to hear unsolicited criticism about every facet of his life—it had certainly never endeared Abraxas to Lucius—but remaining silent would be like telling Draco, “I’m fine with you living a substandard life,” and Lucius couldn’t do that. Draco needed guidance.
But whose guidance did he need more? The tough-love of a solicitous father, or the lenient care of a neutral third party?
Lucius watched as Snape methodically dissected his crepes with the tip of his knife. Totally calm and collected. Cool. Fucking hell, who was Lucius kidding? If he were in Draco’s shoes, he’d pick Severus in a heartbeat.
And what about Severus, who would he pick if the choice were between Lucius and Draco? What if he preferred the softer touch of a submissive partner? What if he preferred Draco’s playful neediness? Merlin’s balls, what if he just preferred the way Draco kissed? Goddammit! If he thinks Draco’s a better kisser than me, I’ll hex the both of them.
Malfoy slammed down his coffee with a loud clunk and then blushed when Hermione and Severus gave him matching looks of concern. “Sorry,” he muttered, dabbing at the spill with his napkin. “Caffeine rush.”
Hermione narrowed her eyes as if she saw through his fib—damn aura vision—but she didn’t call him out. Instead, she turned to Snape and changed the subject, “Are you working in your lab today?”
“That was my intention. Failure three ninety-six will be ready when you get home.”
Hermione put her hand over his. “You never know, today might be the day.”
“I don’t expect it to work. I’m merely going through the motions so I can say I exhausted every avenue.”
She squeezed his fingers. “Maybe I can help you this weekend.”
“There’s nothing for you to help with,” Severus grumbled, clearly sensitive about his ongoing failure. “You’ve already gone through all my notes.”
“Okay then, maybe I’ll just suck the disappointment out of you.”
A snicker broke through his gruff exterior, and Severus raised his coffee to her. “I look forward to that.”
Laughing, Hermione glanced at the clock. “I’d better get going.” She chugged her juice in three large gulps then leaned over and kissed Severus goodbye. “Lots to do. I’ll see you at noon.”
“Have a good day, love.”
Hermione beamed at him and then ran over to Lucius. “You have a good day too. I’ll miss you.”
Tucking a migrated curl back behind her ear, he pulled her in and nipped her juice-sweetened lower lip. “I’ll miss you too, princess.”
“Love you,” she whispered in his ear.
He smiled. “Be home on time. We all need you as much as your charity cases.”
“I’ll try my best.”
Hermione grabbed her briefcase, and before he could blink, she was out the door. Gone for the day. She always seemed to be in such a hurry lately. It left him feeling oddly nervous.
Snape cut his eyes toward the dirty dishes, and they zipped to the sink like a herd of frightened first-years. With a resigned grunt, he pushed himself out of his chair and followed them over, mumbling an incantation to bring the sponge and water to life.
As each clean dish emerged from the water, Severus plucked it from the air and then dried it with a wave of his hand. Another wave sent the plate to its respective home.
Sipping his coffee, Lucius watched him for a minute, turned on by not only the way those hands worked their wandless magic but also the way Snape’s black shirt stretched and moved over every muscle in his upper body. How did that man turn the most mundane job into something sensual? In his mind’s eyes, he saw Severus shirtless, the long valley of his spine disappearing into the tapered waist of his trousers. Too bad he felt the need to glamour away the scars that crosshatched that perfect back. They lent a certain air of mystery and danger and were, quite frankly, sexy as hell. Sexy but sad. They each told a story Severus probably wanted to forget. He’d been hiding them since his mid-twenties, and even though Lucius had insisted they turned him on, Snape refused to drop the concealment charms.
Remembering the way those scars used to shine in the candlelight sent Lucius reeling into the past: past nights alone with Severus after Death Eater meetings, past nooners in the dungeon during Snape’s planning period, past threesomes with Narcissa upstairs in their bed. The further into the past he went, the more scars he saw, and the more scars he saw, the more he remembered what had brought them on. All the abuse. The pain. He couldn’t help thinking about everything Severus had been through. Everything they’d been through together.
And that’s when an overwhelming sense of synchronicity rippled through his gut, and he came to the sudden realization that so much of what made Severus Severus was what made Lucius Lucius. They’d shared almost an entire lifetime. They existed in one another.
Malfoy rose to his feet, drifting toward Snape without consciously knowing why. When he was just behind him, an inch away, Lucius raised his hand and brushed aside the curtain of stringy, black hair blocking his path. A choppy lock feathered over his fingers, and the sensation felt so familiar a warm shudder of déjà vu prickled up his flesh. This was where he was meant to be. Bowing his head, he pressed his lips to the nape of Snape’s neck and breathed in the salty clean scent of his skin.
“What are you doing?” Severus asked, not sounding displeased. “Don’t you have an appointment?”
Lucius caught him by the wrist, fingertips pressed to his throbbing pulse. Sliding his hand up Snape’s crisp cotton sleeve, he mapped the ropy contours of the muscle beneath. There were scars hidden there too. He knew them all. When he reached his shoulder, Lucius curled his fingers around the sharp bone and drew him back against his body. For a moment there was peace, and Lucius closed his eyes, settling into its purring hum. But then, as if his blasted bollocks knew only one response to that energy, a rush of desire flared through his sex, and his scrotum began to rise. Need you! Now. Sinking his fingers into Snape's shoulder, Malfoy took a step back and roughly spun him around.
Severus looked at him, eyebrow lifted in a blasé arch, but a tic of amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Lucius stared at that mouth, that wickedly sinful mouth that had explored every inch of his body with complete abandon. The mouth that had hurled the most venomous, cutting insults, but had also sung the most healing songs imaginable. The mouth that, after a lifetime of guarded silence, couldn’t even open to say three simple words to the witch they both loved.
Lucius leaned in, hovering a breath away. That was his mouth.
With surprising force, he attacked, kissing Severus so violently the impact knocked the Potions master into the counter. But Severus came right back at him, giving as good as he got, and Lucius’s heart roared so loudly the walls of his chest rattled.
Just as he started to lose himself in the hypnotic swirl of Snape’s tongue, he realized he’d lost track of time, and unfortunately, the man he had to meet was a stickler for punctuality. Knowing he didn’t posses the strength to quit that kiss on his own accord, Lucius grabbed a fistful of raven hair and hauled Snape backward.
Inches apart, their eyes met, and if not for the ragged echo of their panting to mark the passing seconds, Lucius would have thought time had stopped. A deep hunger electrified the air between them, the vibrations of it buzzing through Malfoy’s lips and groin. When he finally managed to speak, the quake of those vibrations traveled all the way up to his vocal cords, “Have a good day, Severus.”
It took a few seconds to register, but then Severus blinked and whispered, “You too,” his smooth baritone raspy with want.
As if Imperioused by that rasp, Malfoy’s hand dropped to Snape’s placket, and the stiff heat of growing arousal pulsated in his palm. Severus growled and thrust into his touch, his black eyes somehow going even darker. Swallowing hard, Lucius squeezed him and, with a tight nod, assured him they would pick up where they left off as soon as he returned home.
Afraid he’d fall prey to his urges and lose a day of work if he didn’t leave right then, Lucius forced himself to turn away, willing his feet to move across the kitchen, out of Snape’s gravitational pull. As he strode to the door, his own erection became tangled in his shorts, and Lucius reached into his trousers to adjust himself.
When he felt his cock in his hand, solid as marble, he smiled. Draco and Hermione might give Severus a taste of sweet and soft, but a man couldn’t live on fairy cakes alone. Sometimes a wizard needed to tear into something hard to remind himself of his own strength.
And sometimes a wizard needed nothing more than a kiss to quiet his fears. It had been ludicrous to think Severus might pass him over in favor of Draco. If anything, it was Draco who had the weakest foothold. Last in, first out and all.
But if it was true what Hermione had said about there not being a limit on how many people a person could hold in his heart, then really no one had to be left out. It didn’t have to be a competition.
It could just be.
If Severus wanted to let Draco in, then perhaps Lucius shouldn’t take it personally. The jealousy might always be there, but he couldn’t deny that Draco and Severus complemented each other in ways Lucius and Severus did not.
That might’ve been cause for jealousy as well, but Lucius was confident the bond he shared with Severus couldn’t be broken. Their history together had woven a safety net neither man wanted to lose, and the peace they found in the other’s presence was matched only by their inexhaustible passion.
Lucius and Severus had their own unique melody—just as Draco and Severus had theirs, and Hermione had hers with each of them. Currently, they were all playing in harmony, and Lucius didn’t want to be the tone-deaf monster who ruined the song for everyone. The piece as a whole was too beautiful to risk.
But if anyone tried to steal one of his duets . . .
He growled low in his throat and bared his teeth at the empty hall. Hell hath no fury like a Lucius scorned.
Impromptu—A short piano piece, often improvisational and intimate in character.
“The Boy is Mine” by Brandy and Monica. Released in 1998. Written and composed by LaShawn Daniels, Japhe Tejeda, Fred Jerkins III, Rodney "Darkchild" Jerkins, and Brandy. Inspired by the 1982 hit duet “The Girl is Mine” by Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Va1Y6uAgNJY
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