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
- 57
- 58
- 59
A/N: I thought I was moving along so quickly with this, but rewriting four chapters never goes as fast as I think it will. *Sigh* I’ve finally gotten to that place where I know I can’t read these chapters one more freakin time, so it’s time to post them. Hope you all enjoy. (I’ll get one up each day. I still need to write the notes for 59-61 and do some last minute editing.)

Snapes_Princess: Thank you so much for the lovely review <3 And I’m glad you’re enjoying the story. Hope you like what’s coming up just as much :)
DS: I’m going to have to shove all my replies to your multiple reviews into one huge lump to fit them in here.
Glad you enjoyed their perspective on the DD stuff even if it’s not your thing. (That seems to be the consensus for most people.) And your commentary had me snorting the whole time.
Your back and forth laughter/feels on 49 was exactly what I was after :)
As always, thank you kindly for all the corrections. (Now I just have get off my lazy butt and actually fix it all. *Sigh*)
58—Bridge 
“If you think you've had too much of this life, well hang on, ‘cause everybody hurts . . . sometimes.”—R.E.M.
(Hermione)
Hermione wasn’t a stranger to frustration, but the past week gave the word new meaning. Instead of requests for help or offers of assistance, the foundation got bags of hate mail and Howlers, all of which had to be sorted through in search of legitimate cases. 
Hermione and Florence donned protective gloves and goggles each morning and spent the first half of the day fighting off Snapping Memos and Attack Envelopes. While dividing the “correspondence,” Hermione bit the proverbial bullet and confessed to Flo who had sent those flowers so long ago. She didn’t feel right lying to her second in command, and after ten years of working side by side, Florence had proven herself a trustworthy friend. Not to mention the woman was completely unflappable. If ever there was a Queen Of Cool Calm Cats, it was Flo.
True to form, Flo brushed off the news with aplomb. She said she didn’t care who shared Hermione’s bed—she only cared about continuing the mission of the foundation.
Hermione had never been so relieved in all her life. Not only because her bizarre love triangle—quadrangle?— had been accepted, but because she no longer had to keep her home life a secret. Severus could fire-call her in the middle of the day without raising suspicion, and Draco could stop by for a nooner if so inclined. For the first time ever, Hermione felt free to express the many facets of her love outside the manor, which once experienced, was rather revolutionary.
A step toward free love, however, was the only break she got.
After the first influx of Howlers, most of the volunteers quit, leaving Hermione and Flo to cover all the bases on their own. None of the cases left—they had nowhere else to go—and new ones were coming in all the time. Hermione’s obsessive orderliness and uncompromising determination kept everything running smoothly, but the pressure to succeed thickened the air with an oppressive heaviness. If she failed, it might set back creature rights twenty years. And then Skeeter would have gotten the best of her, and she couldn’t live with herself if that happened.
Unfortunately, stress didn’t give a shit about determination, so the harder she pushed herself, the harder she fell. Affronted by her rabid willpower, her brain and body took turns going on strike. One minute she’d be staring into space, zombified by exhaustion, and the next she’d be flat on her back in the break room, desperately trying to stop the spasms in her shoulder and hip.
Each night, she dragged herself home and bawled in the bathtub until she was too worn out to think. Draco had abandoned the playful little boy routine to be her sensitive man, and he’d taken to stroking her into a cuddle coma as Severus bathed her. After the bath, Lucius usually ate her pussy while Draco tongued her tits; Severus provided the audio: a suggestive commentary that had Muffy weeping the silkiest tears of gratitude.
She wanted all three of them to fuck the hell out her—to blot out reality with cock after cock after cock—but they kept refusing, claiming to be too worried about her. While she appreciated the consideration, she was going to start assaulting them in their sleep if the weekend didn’t bring on some kind of semen tsunami.
‘Semen storms,’ Muffy intoned. ‘Didn’t the Meteorological Committee recommend taking shelter in one’s home during such inclement weather?’
Damn straight, Hermione snickered to herself.
She glanced at the clock and was grateful to see it agreeing with her for once: Quitting Time. The day had been absolutely endless; she swore when she wasn’t looking the minute hand had been running in reverse. Despite her enthusiasm for helping the underrepresented, all she wanted to do was go home and be the cheese in double-decker Malfoy-Snape-Malfoy toastie. The logistics of making that work were too much for her addled brain, but she knew Muffy would come up with some kind of configuration once she had the raw materials on hand.
After saying goodnight to Flo and locking up, Hermione Appartated to the manor and called out the password to the gate without even realizing she’d spoken. The driveway felt too long, as it often did after a trying day, but as soon as she saw the soft light filtering through the downstairs windows, her step quickened. Home sweet home.
Or snake pit sweet snake pit.Slytherins were far more snuggly than anyone gave them credit for. At least hers were. Very accommodating and attentive too. 
Her feet and back ached something awful, and she wondered if one of them would give her a massage before dinner. Lucius was the foot rub master, and Draco could always get that knot out of the middle of her back. Maybe she’d ask them to tag team her so she could have both. If he wasn’t busy in the lab, Severus could massage her clit. 
‘With his tongue.’ 
Hermione snorted at Muffy’s proviso as she threw open the front door.
In the entrance hall, she found Draco on his knees, re-stacking what appeared to be an overflow of letters. He glanced up, and when he saw it was her, a pang of guilt flickered over his face.
“What are you up to?” Hermione asked, dropping her briefcase on the table next to the chair.
“Nothing. Just tidying up.”
“Tidying up?” Draco didn’t clean. He didn’t even know any cleaning charms. Crouching down, she snagged several envelopes from the floor.
“No, Hermione! I’ll get those. You go see Severus. He’s down in the lab waiting for you.”
Hermione ignored him and opened the letter.
Harry Potter doesn’t need enemies with friends like you.
It was unsigned.
She flipped to the next one. That’s blood money! Death Eater Whore!
The next. The worst kind of evil is the kind that hides behind a mask of righteousness. You know what you are.
The one after that was far more creative. Cut-out letters of different shapes and sizes had been spellotaped to the parchment, and the discombobulated text suggested she do something rather rude to Muffy with a poisoned dagger. How sweet. “Did these come to the house?”
Agony shot through Draco’s stormy gaze. “We didn’t want you to see.”
She handed him the letters. “You don’t have to hide them. We’re getting the same thing at the office.”
“I know, but you deserve to rest when you get home. You shouldn’t be dealing with this shit every second of the day.” Draco gathered up the parchment and exploded Howlers into a scattered bundle.
“Ginny came by the offices today to help out. She said Harry’s been getting letters too, mostly telling him I can’t be trusted.”
Draco tapped his wand to the stack, and the whole thing vanished with a muffled pop. Hermione stared at the empty spot, a wistful frown on her lips; if only all her problems could be so easily dispatched.
Rising from the floor, Draco drew her in, his hands gripping her flesh as if he needed to make sure she was real. After touching his lips to her forehead, he sighed into her hair, and that sigh captured her sentiments to a tee—thoroughly exhausted but grateful for the moment of respite. 
“How was your day besides the letters?” he murmured.
“It was okay. We got some new cases. And I got to watch Flo blow up a Howler before it could scream at me. That was pretty exciting.”
“Let’s go down and tell Severus you’re home. He’ll be glad to see you.”
“Is your father home yet?”
“I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”
“Did you sneak out of work early?”
“Of course I did. It’s Friday, isn’t it? And I hardly want to hang around the office with everybody talking about me behind my back.”
Her stomach lurched. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, tucking her head beneath his chin and hiding her face in his heart. “I know how hard you’ve worked to rebuild your reputation—and now . . . it’s like you’re back at square one. This must be so hard for you.”
He growled and hugged her tighter. “The only thing that’s hard for me is seeing you so tired and sad.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. Fuck. She was tired and sad. Hermione felt as if she’d been treading water for days on end. And beneath the choppy surface an ocean of unnameable horrors waited, each more terrifying than the last. So she kept swimming. Failure wasn’t an option. There were too many people counting on her. She had to be strong. Had to play it smart. Had to prove herself
As a hero.
As a woman in a man’s world
As the person she thought she was supposed to be.
And sometimes the weight of all that expectation crushed her. She wanted to scream and cry and break into a million pieces, but the only time she felt she could do that was when she was at home with the three of them. And even then, sometimes it was difficult.
Wrapping Draco in a ferocious hug, Hermione clung to him in the hope he would keep her afloat for a few minutes so she could rest. “I love you so much, Draco.”
“I love you too,” he whispered. His arms cinched around her—harder and harder. Until she couldn’t inhale.
Which was exactly what she needed. Expelling all the air in her lungs, Hermione sank into his embrace and relaxed for the first time in twelve hours.
In the middle of Draco’s hug, the front door creaked open and Lucius appeared, his angular face bursting into a surprised smile as soon as he saw her. After depositing his briefcase on the table next to hers, he strode toward them, and Draco passed her off to his father, a seamless transition from Malfoy to Malfoy. 
Lucius gave her a soft kiss, the kind that made her knees turn to jelly, and Hermione moaned for more.
Chuckling, he pulled back, his mouth moving against hers as he spoke, “You’re actually home on time. I’m in shock.”
“I just got here.”
He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “How was your day, princess? Did you save the world?”
Smiling, Hermione dragged him close and buried her nose in his chest, breathing deeply to immerse herself in his scent. A hint of cologne lingered in the weave of his shirt, but she could smell the real Lucius underneath, the salty Lucius who reeked of sex and snogging. Gods! She needed to keep that scent on tap at work. Whenever things got too tense, she could just sneak into her office for some pheromone aromatherapy.
Now if she could just get Lucius and Draco to stand close enough so she could sniff them both at the same time. One for each nostril. Olfactory heaven.
“Have you told Severus you’re home?” he asked.
“I was just going.”
“We’ll go with you. I’m sure he’ll be ready to take a break. And he'll be pleased you’re home at a decent time.”
Mmmmm, lab-scented Severus. Not quite as good as sex-scented Severus, but definitely worth a sniff. Plus, she felt uneven without him. She’d layered herself in Eau de Draco and Essence of Lucius, but she needed those top notes of pure Potions master to balance out the medley.
A niggling urge flared to life in her belly. A compulsion. She had to fill in the missing piece.
Grinning at her two blonds, she spun around and made a dash for the dungeons. Draco caught up with her first, and she heard Lucius just behind him, both of them snickering at her impatience.
When they reached the lab, Hermione flung open the door, and Severus jerked up from his cauldron, a crooked scowl of confusion crinkling his black eyes. Hermione ran at him full tilt, but instead of alarm, she saw a small smirk rolling up the edges of his mouth.
He bent down and caught her, spinning halfway around to absorb her momentum. “What are you all doing down here?”
“Coming to get you.”
Severus kissed the top of her head. “I can’t believe you’re home before dark. Is this some special occasion? Have I won the— Oh Merlin . . . Did something happen at the office?” The sharp tips of his fingers pierced her shoulder. “I knew I should have put up some kind of protective charms. Those wards you’re using are far too basic.”
Shaking her head, she squeezed him tight to still his anxiety. “Nothing happened. I was just too tired to stay.”
His grip loosened ever so slightly. “I’ve been worried about you all day. I know you like to think the best of society, but there are a lot of treacherous people on the loose.”
Hermione hid her smile in his shirt. Most of the wizarding world considered these men the epitome of treachery—highly dangerous—yet here, in this den of former Death Eaters, was where she felt safest. People weren’t always as they appeared. “I know. And I was careful today; I promise. But I came home to get away from all that. I just want to go take a bath and relax. And I mean take a bath with all of you. As in naked. Cocks on parade. Followed by a live show in my pussy.”
His breathy laugh ruffled her hair. “I believe that can be arranged. But first I  think a discussion is in order; two matters in particular need to be dealt with before we book any live shows.”
Nooooo! Not before the bath! Discussion meant seriousness, and Hermione couldn’t take any more seriousness. She was all serious-ed out. But to keep the peace, she put on her big girl knickers and gave him her best Gryffindor smile. “Sure. What is it?”
“Well, number one, since we’re all here, I’d like to address the hours you’ve been keeping. We’re concerned about you—and not just because of the threats. You’ve been working too hard lately, and it’s taking a toll on your health. Those circles under your eyes have gotten darker this week, and you haven’t been eating enough. I refuse to let this go on any longer. None of us can stand by and watch you destroy yourself. Doing your job and working hard is one thing—we’re very proud of what you’ve done—but you need to come home at a normal time and set all that aside.”
“But there’s so much to do, Severus! How am I supposed to get it all done?”
He cupped her face in one huge hand and placed his thumb lightly across her lips to wipe away her panicked grimace. “If need be, we’ll come in and help you. Keeping you sane and healthy is always our first priority.”
Tears rushed her eyes, and Hermione ducked her head, pressing her face to his chest to hide the eruption. She didn’t want them to see how close she was to breaking.
Over the past week, she’d felt the leaden weight of their concern tugging at her heart, but she’d put on her bravest smile and pretended to be getting better so they wouldn’t worry.  It hurt her to hurt them.
But at the same time, she hadn’t been able to stop being the cause of their hurt.  She had to work. It consumed her. She had to push herself. Had to be the best. Her world would descend into chaos without her lists and goals. What would she do if she had nothing to strive toward? She had to leave a mark—make a difference. And that took commitment. Sweet Circe . . . it took so much of her.
And it had taken her away from them.
But they didn’t get cross. They didn’t blame her or belittle her stubbornness.  Here they were, just trying to support her in whatever way they could. Wanting her to succeed. Wanting her taken care of. 
Which was more than she could say for herself. She’d been so obsessed with the foundation, she’d been neglecting her own self-care. There was no time for healing when a new emergency came bursting through her door every ten minutes.
But it dawned on her that she wouldn’t have anything to give if she had nothing left. She was hurting the foundation by not taking care of herself.
And worst of all she was hurting Severus, Lucius, and Draco.
With her throat too tight to speak, all she could do was nod at what Severus had said.
“Well that was easy,” he quipped. “I guess we’ll move on to issue number two. What would you like to do about Skeeter’s article? Do you want to become a silent partner with the charity and let Flo be the frontman? Do you want to go down the the Daily Prophet and give Skeeter the comeuppance she so richly deserves? Or do you want one of us to . . . take care of her?”
Hermione sputtered out a shaky laugh. “I really hope you don’t mean that in a mafia sense. She’s a conniving bitch, but I don’t want her dead.”
Snape shrugged, seemingly indifferent. “Your call.”
“I don't know what to do yet,” she sighed. “If I react, it'll look as though I've got something to hide.”
“You do.”
Hermione smiled. “Okay then, I'll look guilty. And while I’d gladly plead guilty to loving you three, I hardly think anyone is qualified to pass judgement on me.”
“I am,” he shot back. “And let it be known that, in this house, the punishment shall always fit the crime.”
Oh, thank Merlin! She'd recognize that clit-rattling rumble in his voice anywhere. He was going to fuck her back to health. “Sounds fair. Would you say that spanking is the proper punishment in this situation?”
His brow quirked. “Hardly. Love begets love, and I suspect we’ll have to love you raw to make sure you learn your lesson.”
“I hope that means actual cocks inside me, because my pussy’s starting to atrophy.”
Severus gave her the most wicked grin and, sliding a hand over her arse, traced the valley of her cheeks with one long finger. Bowing his head, he brushed back her hair with his nose and put his lips to her ear. A warm exhalation ghosted over her skin, and his voice followed, rolling through her like velvet thunder, “From abundance springs satiety.”
Bridge—“A bridge provides a new melody, deepens lyrical meaning, and takes a song in a slightly new direction before returning to either a repeat of the chorus or a new verse.”—secretsofsongwriting.com
“Everybody Hurts” by R.E.M. Written by Bill Berry, Peter Buck, Mike Mills, and Michael Stipe and released in 1992 on their album Automatic for the People. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5rOiW_xY-kc
“From abundance springs satiety.”—Titus Livius (Roman Historian), known as Livy in English. Author of Ab Urbe Condita, a history of Rom from the time of its founding until the reign of Augustus.
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