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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
- 59
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- 61
60—Quartet
“Say what you wanna say, and let the words fall out. Honestly, I wanna see you be brave.”—Sara Bareilles
(Severus) 
Placing a hand on either side of her hips, Severus guided her back onto the bed and signaled to Lucius and Draco that everything had gone to plan in the loo. After releasing the water, she’d slipped into a blissfully receptive state—loose, willing, and calm. Precisely as he’d intended.
As she crawled across the bed, Severus met Lucius’s eye and, with a nod, gestured toward her glistening slit. Are you seeing what I’m seeing?
Lucius arched one blond brow and climbed up behind her, leaning in to inspect the lay of the land. “Are you feeling better now, princess?” He slid a hand over her derrière and pulled one cheek to the side. “Mm! It appears you are.”
Hermione smiled and backed into his touch. “I feel bloody amazing. Is it time for buggering now? Severus only gives me an enema when someone’s going to fuck my arse. Is that what you had in mind?”
Malfoy looked back at him. ‘Are you going to tell her, or shall I?’
Severus shook his head. Let’s make it a surprise. “I thought you just told me your pussy was too empty, now at the mere mention of your arse, you’re ready to switch allegiance.”
Arching her back, she dropped her chest to the bed and gave him a x-rated view of her sex. “There’s plenty to go around. Can’t they both have fun?”
“Hmmmmm, that’s exactly what we were thinking,” Severus drawled.
Climbing up the bed, he approached her with a patience and grace that belied his true desperation. He’d missed being inside her that week, missed her little kitten moans and roaring shouts, missed her warm adoration and searing passion. But it was more than the lack of sex. Things felt “off” in general. 
Skewed.
The disorientation might have been due to the Prophet’s article, but Severus didn’t really believe that. It was something more, something deeper. The disruption to their normal routine had knocked a cog loose, and he wasn’t sure which piece needed repair. Was it her or them? Should he try to fix it or let it run its course? And if he did want to fix it, how could he without first identifying the source of the problem? 
He’d been trying to pinpoint the root of their disfunction by testing various solutions. If tranquility counteracted the disconnection, then he’d know the question involved either her emotional state or their own, which seemed like the most logical place to start.
Except his attempts to keep the intimacy as tranquil as possible hadn’t been working for any of them. Hermione was miserable, Lucius was lashing out, Draco’s forehead was creased with a permanent line of worry, and Severus couldn’t think straight. Doing any meaningful work in the lab was completely out of the question. There were combustible ingredients down there, and he didn’t want to blow up the dungeons. Lucius wouldn’t like that.
They needed to set things right. For everyone involved. Before everything came crashing down around them.
And if Hermione thought sex was the cure for what ailed them, he’d be her all-night chemist. He had a cock full of miracle elixir, and he intended to give her a clean bill of health before the weekend ended.
Snaking his hand around her waist, Snape dragged her into the middle of the bed and, with boa constrictor-like coiling, held her to him as he rolled to his back.
“Severus!” she shrieked, but then burst into riotous laughter, which obliterated any hint of indignation. “What’re you doing? I thought you were going to— OH!”
He dipped in and out of her folds a few times, wetting himself in her arousal, but without the use of his hands, he couldn’t quite align himself with her arse.
“Allow me,” Lucius purred, his vocal register dropping to it’s silkiest tones.
Apparently Severus wasn’t the only one with a prescription for sexual healing.
Malfoy grabbed the lube off the table and crawled toward her pussy, a devilish gleam in his eye. When he began to unscrew the jar, Hermione’s hips bounced in an excited jig, and Severus had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. That arse of hers was insatiable. 
Gripping his shaft in a slick fist, Lucius coated Snape’s entire length in warm oil—his attention far more glans-centric than Severus thought necessary. Once he had Severus gleaming like a new Knut, he greased Hermione’s backdoor and slipped his thumb into her keyhole, no doubt buttering her tract to a high shine. As soon as she whimpered for more, he popped out and brought the tip of Snape’s cock to her pucker. 
Her sphincter opened to him without hesitation, drawing him in before he could knock. Severus eased through her tight gateway and sank into her bum, where it was at least twenty degrees warmer—than the sun. Holy fucking hell! Had he forgotten how hot her arsehole was, or had he simply lost his protective genital tan during the week? His skin felt overly sensitive—perhaps because it had been given time to heal from the last searing romp—and he hissed as another inch of his manhood disappeared into her kiln.
“Sweet mother of Merlin,” Lucius muttered to himself. “This is . . . breathtaking. You’ve got to see this, Severus.”
“Put up the mirrors,” Severus grunted through his clenched teeth. “I want her to watch.”
The corners of Malfoy’s mouth curled in a impish grin. “As if I would make my princess a playroom without mirrored ceilings. What kind of man do you take me for?” 
Leaning over, he grabbed his wand off the bedside table and flicked it toward the sky. The white coffered ceiling dissolved to reveal a cluster of rectangular mirrors that had been centered over the bed in an almost cubist configuration. The lack of frames left the view completely unobscured, but the varying sizes and artful arrangement made Severus feel like the subject of a modern painting. Lucius had always had a knack for turning sex into art.
And Severus appreciated the view.
Grabbing Hermione by the backs of the legs, he spread her open so she could see the glistening red streak of her sex above the broad stroke of his flesh. Her eyes met his in the mirror, embers of gold flashing in the brown, like sparks shooting off a burning branch. Her mouth opened, and he could tell she wanted to say something, but all that emerged was a jagged huff of excitement.
“Look how beautiful you are,” Severus murmured, pressing a kiss to her fevered temple. “You’re glowing.”
A breathy gasp skipped over her lips.
“And your pussy is positively luminescent. Is it enjoying the show?”
She nodded, barely moving, her eyes locked on the slow in and out reflected above them.
His eyes shifted to Lucius, who appeared equally awestruck by the sight. “Do you recall the first time we had her spread out like this?”
Lucius smiled. “How could I forget? You had her in this exact position.” Reaching out, he touched her clit, tracing its crimson peak in a gentle circle, his remaining fingers drifting along Snape’s length. “And it’s just as stunning now as it was then. Perhaps more so.”
“Would care to join us?”
“You know I would. I’ve said as much on multiple occasions.”
Severus put his lips to her ear and let his question drift across her skin, “What do you say, love? I know you’re curious. Is tonight the night?”
Her rate of respiration hit a frantic high, her breasts quivering as they rose and fell. With a small nod, she consented—and then, somehow, unhinged her hips and spread her legs even wider.
Severus smiled at the wanton display. “That’s it, baby girl, just let go. We’ve got you.”
They’d discussed how they would take her, so there was no awkward fumbling or debate over who would go where. Lucius got to his knees and, placing a hand to her hip for balance, guided himself to her opening. In an attempt to provide Malfoy with adequate room for his grand entrance, Severus drew back until only his head remained inside.
Hermione’s gaze locked on the mirror, her focus on her pussy. Severus kept his eyes on the mirror as well, but he was watching her face. Peripherally, he saw Lucius move—and then felt him sliding along the opposite side of her thin wall. Malfoy’s thighs bumped Snape’s, and the soft weight of his sac hovered above his own. Such a familiar sensation. If he’d been alone with Lucius he might not have noticed it at all; but with her between them, everything felt different. New. It was like being a teenager again.
Minus the acne and bullies. Plus all the pussy and cock he could ask for. Which was pretty sweet.
Almost as sweet as that look on her face.
Hermione’s mouth had frozen in a silent “O”, and the deeper Lucius went, the longer that “O” became. Her chin fell to her chest, and her breath rattled past her lips in a shocked wheeze, but otherwise, she remained silent.
Until Severus drove all the sound out of her with his counter thrust.
“Uuuuuuuuunghhhh!” Her ribcage arced sharply, and her eyes fluttered shut, rolling beneath her eyelids as if she were possessed by the pleasure.
Severus pulled out as Lucius went in, slow and steady, filling her one at a time. Severus in, Lucius out. Lucius in, Severus out. 
Malfoy’s lip curled in an animal snarl, and every exhalation rumbled with a growl. Severus had to concur. It felt as if he’d dipped his dick into some kind of bacchanalian wilderness, a primordial jungle where his control and intelligence meant nothing. 
And where logic left off, instinct reigned; and that instinct brought with it an unexpected insight.
He could look into her eyes and read her desires like a book, but under all the yes, sirs and princess panties lay a powerhouse of untamed energy. Her primal essence crept around his cock, watching, waiting. Waiting for what, he didn’t know, but every hair on the back of his neck stood at attention, as if he were being hunted. A shiver of adrenaline surged through his body.
Draco slinked into view, all pale skin and gleaming white hair. Something in Severus reached out to him, but he didn’t think it wise to let go of Hermione. Luckily, Draco took matters into his own hand, brushing his fingers along both their arms. As soon as Draco's skin touched his, a frisson of excitement sent Snape’s stomach soaring
When he caught his breath, the surge of heart-pounding adrenaline he’d felt before was gone; Hermione’s arse was no longer prowling, ready to attack. It had settled to a contented purr.
But he knew that purr came from place of raw intensity and untapped strength. Something inside her wanted out, and Severus wasn’t sure what that something was or what it would do if set free. 
Yet something inside him wanted to pick its lock. Was he being foolhardy? What if it was something destructive? What if it hurt her? Or them?
He watched in the mirror as her upper body jolted in a series of pre-orgasmic convulsions. When Draco placed his hand over her chest, all the air rushed out of her in a loud, “Huhhh!”
“Are you close, love?” Draco trailed his fingertips around her nipple and smiled when she levitated toward his hand. “You look a little tense.”
With absolutely no warning, her face crumpled, the wobbling of her lower lip so strong it looked as if her teeth were chattering. Severus couldn’t imagine anything destructive residing in a witch that sensitive. Whatever he’d felt earlier might have been wild, but it wasn’t out for blood.
“I didn’t mean it,” Draco backtracked nervously. “You don’t look tense at all; you look totally relaxed. Relaaaaaaaxed.”
A smile sprang up behind her tears, and when she opened her eyes, they flickered with metallic gold light. Momentarily mesmerized, Severus paused in his thrusting. 
He saw a flash of happiness—the four of them together, laughing, brimming with affection—and at first he thought it was an unintentional detour into her mind. Accidental Legilimency was fairly common in sexual situations; there were so many connections and emotions it was hard to avoid. But then he realized the image had sprung from his own mind. In a dream. He couldn’t remember what else had happened, or why they’d been laughing, but he remembered the moment and the feeling that accompanied it with absolute clarity.
Warmth flooded his stomach, soft and tingling, and a fuzzy feeling settled in his heart. It was almost as if her furball of a cat had climbed atop his chest and curled up for a nap; but instead of Kneazle-scented weight, it was more like a happy memory he’d suddenly recalled, or an old friend he’d forgotten existed. Joyful but peaceful. 
And in that peace all his fears faded. “Hermione?”
She responded by raising a hand over her shoulder to touch his cheek.
His flesh seemed to expand beneath her fingers, as if it didn’t understand the laws of physics. Much like his fuzzy heart. “Would you find it insincere if a man declared his love for a woman whilst buried in her arse?”
Lucius froze mid-stroke, his eyes flying open. 
The room went still.
“What did you say?” Hermione whispered.
The buzzing in his chest pulsed in time with his pounding heart. It knew what was coming—and it approved. “I think I just indirectly told you I love you. And now I’ve gone and done it again. This is harder than I imagined.”
He felt foolish—unprepared—yet he’d also never felt such freedom. Verbal ecstasy danced on the tip of his tongue.
“You fink,” Lucius declared with a growing smile. “You told me you couldn’t say it!”
“I haven’t said it."
“Well, how am I supposed to say it now? You’ve made me the last place finisher. It’s going look as if I was the most reluctant to say it when I was just waiting for you to get used to the idea.”
“I haven’t said anything! If it’s that important to you, you go first.”
“Right now? While we’re both balls deep inside her? How romantic.”
“If it’s any consolation, I’m only tip deep.”
Hermione burst out laughing, but beneath it lay a sob, and she wavered between the two with lunatic fluidity.
They all went for her at once, attempting to soothe her with hugs and kisses—hands everywhere, a tangle of touch.
“We didn’t mean all that,” Lucius assured her. “I just wanted the moment to be special. You know how much I like a good presentation.”
She nodded, her laugh-sob descending into deranged cackling
“Shhhh,” Draco crooned. “It’s all right. You can laugh or cry all you like, but it might be good if you picked one or the other so you could breathe a little.”
She nodded again, unable to stop.
Severus met Lucius’s eye and cocked one brow. Go on. Say it. It’s what she needs to hear.
Malfoy held his gaze for a second longer, assuring himself of Snape’s sincerity, and when he saw the truth—that Severus honestly wanted this for him—his body sank in relief. Reaching out, he cupped her face in both hands and wiped away her tears with the edges of his thumbs. “I was a fool not to tell you sooner. It’s been eating at me for ages. I love you.” His voice cracked on the last word, and he stopped to take a deep breath. “I love you more than I can say.”
Severus smiled. It felt as though the room had filled with helium and laughing gas; gravity lost a little of its hold. The weightlessness added to the booming buzz of his heartbeat, and his tongue tingled with pressure. The words were out before he could second-guess them. “I love you too. Or three. I don’t mind being last this time. Better third than never.”
Her laughter faded to tears, and she chuffed out a few final hiccups before trying to speak. “I . . . I love all three of you s-so much.” Her fingers ran down his face again. “Love you, Severus.” She lifted her other hand toward Malfoy, and he leaned down to press a kiss to her palm. “Love you, Lucius.” Turning her head, she smiled at Draco. “Love you, Draco.”
Draco smoothed a hand over her breast. “Are you okay now? You want a tissue?”
She sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Yeah.”
“I’ve got it,” Severus murmured. He released her leg and swiped his hand across her face, vanishing the mucus with a silent incantation.
Hermione breathed in a rush of air and let it out in a whoosh, the sound deep and lush. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I think my heart just exploded,” she said, her expression dazed. When Draco placed his hand to her chest, as if he could hold her heart together, she grinned. “In a good way, I promise.”
Draco leaned in and touched his lips to hers. “Looks like you were right,” he whispered. “The whole damn house is in love with you. You think you can handle three maladjusted Slytherins on top of running a foundation and a public scandal?”
Severus wanted to smack him upside the head for mentioning the Prophet, but Hermione just laughed and laughed.
“Don’t see why not—I’ve handled you this long. And you know those three Slytherins are the glue that holds me together.”
Draco kissed her again, softly—but lingering long enough to make Lucius glare. When he pulled back, his lips were pink and wet, and Snape’s cock responded in a rather crude manner. Which was to be expected. It had the same reaction when they kissed goodnight. Or touched. Or looked at each other.
Merlin’s balls! Was everyone in the manor a human aphrodisiac for him?
Grinning, Draco nuzzled her nose. “Now that we’re all on the same page . . . what are you going to do with a triplicate of wizards who love you more than life itself—and who are very hard and ready to come?”
Hermione threw back her head, laughing so hard her arse spasmed around his cock. Lucius gave her pussy a gentle nudge, and her giggling bottomed out in a low moan. “I want all of you,” she panted. “Together. Inside me. Is that too much?”
“Your desires are never too much,” Severus cut in. “They’re absolute perfection.”
Draco smiled in agreement. “Kinky perfection.”
Severus curled his hips and gave her another inch to reminded her just how kinky. “Would you like to taste Draco?” he whispered. “We all know how much you love a mouthful of cock when you’re coming.” 
Her face lit with excitement, but when she tried to lift her head, she didn’t get very far. “How am I going to reach?”
“We’ve got that covered. Show her, Draco.”
Draco climbed to his knees, and Severus extended his arm so he could get closer. With one knee against his ribs and the other nestled above his shoulder, Draco straddled his arm to get within sucking range.
Growling with glee, Hermione stuck out her tongue and licked his tip. “Are you going to provide the thrusting? I can only move my head a little.”
Draco nodded. “Just push me away if I get too deep.”
“Okay. I’m ready.” She opened her mouth wide, but then shut it to say, “You’re all going to come inside me, right? No pulling out. I want to be stuck to the bed in the morning. I’m dead serious.”
Lucius withdrew and then slid back in, his smile one of sheer delight. “You’ll be dripping in it, princess. Every hole. We promise.” His fingers wandered to her hips and he grazed her flanks, following the curve of her leg until he had a calf in either hand. Bringing her legs around his hips, he locked her in place and then trailed his fingers up to her mound, where he spread her lips to expose her swollen clitoris.
Before Malfoy’s finger could even make contact, her pelvis spasmed, and both Severus and Lucius hissed as her muscles wrenched around them like a vice.
“That’s it, princess,” Lucius murmured. “Let your body take control. Don’t hold back.”
Eyes wide, she nodded, her mouth falling open in a ragged exhale. Seizing the opportunity, Draco placed a hand on her cheek and guided his erection into her waiting mouth. 
At such close proximity, the meaty musk of male lust slammed Severus in the nose like a concrete cauldron, and he couldn’t help imagining Draco spread out before him, his cock melting in Snape’s mouth like butterscotch.
His bollocks declared their fondness for butterscotch Draco by heading north.
No! Too much. One at a time.
Turning, he hid face in Hermione’s hair so his traitorous nose wouldn’t be his undoing. While Hermione’s hair was no less of a turn-on, at least he wasn’t being bombarded by every pheromone in the room.
Severus and Lucius resumed their previous pace, and as her sphincter relaxed, so did Severus. It took some time, and a little vocal coercion, but eventually she settled into a humming ball of warm energy, pliable and loose between them, her moans rolling out around Draco’s dick.
Lucius answered her moan with several of his own. His were lower though, the sound resonating from his belly. Or possibly his balls. As he swayed to the gentle rhythm of their fucking, the muscles of his abdomen flexed into a rictus of sculptured control. Every move a work of art. Severus liked that about Lucius. The precision. The willpower. 
And yet he embodied the complete opposite as well—indulgence and sensuality.
Malfoy peered down at them with a smile that bordered on a snarl, conveying both passion and love in equal measure. He wasn’t all sneers and aristocratic pomp; there was a heart there for those cared to look. His desire had meaning. With Lucius, sex was never just sex. 
But it was his preferred mode of communication. That and money.
But look at him now. Not a Galleon in sight . . . and yet still he smiles. An unfamiliar buoyancy pulled at his cheeks, tugging his features into a visage of rapture. This was Lucius in love. The veil of shadows he’d worn since Narcissa’s death had been lifted, and life filled his eyes once more.
Severus lifted his gaze to the mirror above him, wondering if he too had been revitalized by their declaration. Whilst he detected no physical alterations in his appearance, there was no doubt he felt different. The tingling energy that had coursed through his veins still lingered, painting everything he saw into vivid detail.
The bed pulsed behind him, blinding in its whiteness. Hermione’s skin throbbed with pink pleasure, mesmerizing in its multidimensional translucence. And Draco seemed to sparkle, the love oozing from his skin like etheric glitter.
But Severus knew nothing had really changed—nothing except his own perception. The world had always held this magic; he just hadn’t been able to see it.
Gliding his hand along her chest, he traveled up to her chin and skimmed her cheek. Inside, her tongue moved, her mouth working as she sucked Draco. Severus stroked the hinge of her jaw and lightly massaged the muscles running down her neck. “So beautiful. So sexy. So . . . orally agile. What are you trying to do to Draco? You know you’re not part python, don’t you? You can’t swallow him whole.”
She made a noise, but whether it was confirmation or disagreement remained to be seen.
“What was that, love? You want us to make you come now? You need it deeper?”
Her eyes popped open as he abandoned the set rhythm to impale her in tandem with Lucius. He didn’t go all the way in—just far enough to see if she enjoyed the stretch.
“Severus,” Malfoy growled in a threatening tone. “That wasn’t fair. You have to warn me first.”
“That was your warning. Next time I’m going in all the way.”
“Merlin’s beard,” Lucius muttered under his breath. “Give me a second.” He widened his knees slightly, bracing himself. “You ready to try that again, princess? It’s a tight fit.”
She made an impatient noise around Draco and wiggled her hips for more.
“You heard the lady,” Severus smirked. “Give her what she wants.”
Closing his eyes, Lucius shifted forward, easing into her as far as he could. Severus attempted to do the same, but it felt as if he were tying to stuff an anaconda into a garden hose. There didn’t seem to be any more available room—yet, as if by magic, his cock continued to disappear.
There was a point where he sensed he’d reached her limit, and she confirmed his suspicions with a keening wail. Lucius gave her the smallest of nudges, moving maybe a millimeter in and out, and Hermione began to sob. But there were no tears. Just muffled cries of desperate longing. She grabbed Snape’s hip, sinking her nails into his flesh, and a thunderbolt of passion shot through his heart.
Lucius continued to play her pussy, barely rocking, mostly just breathing, but he must have felt the rush of impending release, because his digital stimulation went from lax to determined
“Uuuuunnnghhh!” Her entire body trembled, and her back jerked in several quick spasms that seemed to proclaim: The end is nigh.
“Fuuuuuck,” Draco grunted through his teeth. “You’re gonna— Aaaaaaah!”
They fell like dominoes. Hermione’s innate need to suck her way through orgasm dragged Draco over the edge, and her rampaging pussy took Lucius down with one swift squeeze. Severus was only seconds behind him. That arse showed no mercy.
A cacophony of moans and groans filled the room—heavy breathing and hissing layered atop a constant loop of stifled wailing. Draco finished with a shudder and dragged himself from her mouth so she could breathe, and without him there to muffle her shouts, her cries filled the room at full throttle.
Hermione writhed atop him, her howling almost mournful. But Severus could feel the energy radiating off her like an electrical storm. There was no sorrow in the fitful bridge of her back or the craggy spikes of her nipples. Only resplendent power.
And Severus melded with that power, his cock pounding in time with every pulse.
He’d never felt more alive.
Needed.
Loved.
It wasn’t just Hermione. He felt it from Lucius and Draco as well. Everyone wanted him there. Just as he wanted them. And the euphoria of that unity tingled through every cell of his body.
When her shouts died to croaky panting and her muscles went slack, Severus drew his nose from her hair and breathed a sigh of relief, grateful he’d survived.
Lucius drooped, exhausted, and then slumped down for a kiss. “Was that as good as you imagined, princess?”
Hermione smiled and reached for him, but just as her hand brushed his lips, it went limp and collapsed against her chest, her head lolling to one side.
“Hermione,” Lucius said. When she didn’t answer, he patted her cheek. “You all right? Bloody hell. She’s passed out again.”
Draco ran his hand down her neck. “She feels feverish. Maybe we should cool her off.”
Severus slid his fingers around her neck and felt her pulse. “Heart rate is okay. But Draco’s right—we should cool her off; she’s on fire.”
Lucius gently pulled out, and Severus dragged himself from her arse as delicately as possible. Working as a team, they rolled her to the side, onto the cool sheets.
Draco went to the bathroom to get a wet flannel, and Lucius cast chilling charms on the bedding while Severus wandlessly conjured a breeze.
“Should we owl Veronique?” Lucius asked quietly.
“I don’t know; it doesn’t seem any different from last time. If she is ‘assimilating the magic’ as Veronique suspects, there’s nothing we can really do.” Severus combed back the frazzled hair framing her face so Draco could lay the rag on her forehead.
Hermione’s hand shot out, catching his wrist, and her eyelids snapped up like a window shade. Staring straight at him, her irises shone solid gold—the brown gone—and in a hypnotized monotone she said, “I’m okay.”
Then her eyes closed, and she began to snore. 
They all stared at her in mute shock.
Extending his hand, Lucius cautiously prodded her thigh with the tips of his fingers. “What the hell was that?”
“I . . . I think she’s just asleep,” Severus replied.
“What should we do?”
Draco wiped off her face with the cold water, but she didn’t react to his touch at all, as if she were completely unconscious. “I think she’s trying to tell us it’s time to go to bed.”
Breathing out a reluctant chuckle, Severus affectionately stroked Draco’s head to thank him for lightening his mood. “I agree. Let’s take her back to the real bed and get some rest.”
Severus scooped her up and, with Lucius leading the way, carried her down the hall to Malfoy's room. They all got into the big bed as usual and then arranged her so she was sandwiched between him and Draco.
Reaching over, Lucius took her hand in his. “Are you sure she’s just sleeping?”
Severus propped a finger under her chin and tipped back her head, which restarted the snoring with comic immediacy. “Sounds like it. But I’ll wake up every couple hours to check on her.”
“Can you do that?”
Severus nodded and put out the lights with a wave of his hand. “I can’t sleep when I’m worried.” He found Lucius’s face in the darkness and kissed him. “I’ll wake you if anything changes.”
Lucius kissed him back, almost clinging. When he released him, it felt forced. "Night, Severus.”
“Goodnight.” Severus didn’t think Lucius would respond well to a conversation about how he was feeling, so he said nothing more, but beneath the covers he pressed his foot against Malfoy’s to keep the connection strong. 
Rubbing a hand over the back of Draco’s neck, Severus leaned over to kiss him too. “Night, Draco.”
Their lips bumped, seeking the right angle in the darkness. When they finally interlocked, the fit sent a stomach-flipping rush through his guts, and his knackered prick set about resurrecting itself. For fuck’s sake, not now! I need sleep.
“Night, Severus. I . . .” Draco trailed off and sighed against his mouth. “Do you think we’re hurting her with all this?”
Severus frowned. “I honestly don’t know. I’ll restart my search in the library tomorrow. Perhaps I’ll find some mention of similar symptoms that will give us something to work with.”
“I’ll help you look.”
"Maybe you'd better spend your free time with Hermione. We’ve got two days to get her fit for another week of fighting.”
“’Kay.” The word stretched into a loud yawn, and Draco curled up behind Hermione, his hand on Snape’s chest next to hers.
Severus absently carded his fingers through Draco’s hair as he replayed that night’s finale and aftermath in his mind. There had to be some explanation for what happening to her—something more than speculation about magic semen or loose guesses concerning synchronistic arousal. He hoped Veronique was right, that the repercussions were enhancing Hermione’s life in some way. 
But in Snape’s experience, hope was a fickle bitch and an unreliable ally.
He wouldn't leave it all in her hands.
Quartet—A group of four people singing or playing music together. (Originally the last chapter was titled Quartet: First Movement, and this one was the second movement. But I decided to go with more individual names in the end.)
“Brave” by Sara Bareilles. Written by Sara Bareilles and Jack Antonoff and released in 2013.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=QUQsqBqxoR4
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Quartet