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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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A/N: Next release will be two chapters, and they’re not terribly long, so I hope it doesn’t take forever. I’ll be back with more as soon as I can.
61—Key Change
“Suddenly I see.”—KT Tunstall
(Hermione) 
The air hung heavy with the dank smell of earth and stagnant water. Hermione squinted into the darkness, struggling to detect any movement. A echoey splash and a hollow drip drip drip indicated a subterranean environment, and as her eyes adjusted to the low light, she detected the sparkle of quartz threading through the walls. 
A cave. 
The sound of rushing water called to her, drawing her through the inky blackness. Holding out her hands, she felt her way along the rough corridor. A dim light appeared in the distance, and she hurried toward it, eager for its illumination.
It wavered, shimmering, and as she neared, she understood why. A waterfall covered the mouth of the cave like a curtain, and the light lay on the other side.
Hermione extended her finger into the flowing fabric, sluicing through the water with ease. Not dangerous. Its warmth sent a thrill of excitement up her spine.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione closed her eyes and stepped though the glittering deluge, tipping back her head to keep her hair from matting around her face. When she felt a breeze on her nose, she wiped the water from her eyes and peeked through her lashes.
Fucking hell! A black and endless void stretched as far as the eye could see—an endless eternity of night—and the only thing that kept her from plunging into the unknown was the narrow ledge beneath her feet. Groping behind her for a handhold, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt another warm body. Hermione spun around, only to find Lucius leaning against the sheer rock wall as if he hadn’t a care in the world, a Cheshire smirk lighting his placid face.
“Lucius! What on earth are you doing out here?“ She caught a glimmer of movement out of the corner of her eye and turned toward the waterfall.
Draco emerged from the cascade like a blond Naiad, his hair and face sheeted in a layer of liquid so thick it looked as if he were encased in glass. He didn't seem to take much notice of it though.
“Draco? Where did you come from? Are you all right?”
Draco answered with a smile, silver rippling through his grey eyes.
The wind whipped her wet hair into her face, and she spun toward the gust to keep her curls from blinding her. That was when she spotted Severus, his black attire darker than the night around them. Damn midnight camouflage! No wonder she hadn’t seen him before! He smiled kindly, and his usual harsh expression softened with love.
Hermione was glad they were all together and unharmed, but the setting didn't fill her with confidence. “Let’s go back in the cave!” she shouted over the wind.
Draco came toward her, shaking his head, an amused grin on his lips. Severus crossed to his side, and they all stood shoulder to shoulder, facing her. 
She was going to have to shove the whole lot of them through the waterfall to get them to safety. “Go back!”
“We can’t,” Severus said calmly. “It’s too late. We have to go forward.”
Hermione peered over her shoulder. “What forward?” She couldn’t even see the ground. “What do you mean?”
As if choreographed, they simultaneously reached out and, in unison, lightly shoved her. Tripping backward, she stumbled off the ledge and fell into nothingness. Her stomach dropped like a stone, and her heart screeched to a halt. Too terrified to scream, she closed her eyes, unwilling to watch her own pulverization.
The wind roared around her, and in it, Hermione heard Snape’s whisper. “Open you eyes.”
Cautiously, she squinted through her lashes. The cliff had vanished. In its place a star-speckled night surrounded her on all sides, as if she’d been launched into outer space. On the telly, space travel looked so calm and peaceful, but in reality all she wanted to do was scream. There was no up or down, no resting point, no rules; and the vastness filled her with equal parts horror and awe.
She lost herself in a sea of endless night like a grain of sand falling into the ocean. She’d never felt so alone. So insignificant. Where did she fit in amongst such immense majesty? Did she matter at all?
Something brushed her hand, and she heard Lucius’s voice. “Open your eyes.”
Her eyes were open. 
Weren’t they? 
She blinked hard to make sure. 
They must not have been open before, because she suddenly found herself staring into the brightest light imaginable. It had to be the sun. Or a sun. When barreling toward a gargantuan ball of flaming gas, one didn’t differentiate.
People claimed that, when faced with death, a person’s life flashed before her eyes, but Hermione’s brain was strangely blank. Which was odd. Usually she couldn’t turn that thing off.
Surprisingly, she felt a quiet sense of peace. There was no tomorrow to plan for, no work, nothing she had to do or be. The sun was coming whether she wanted it or not, and she found some relief in knowing it was completely out of her control.
No control. What a strange concept. Control ruled her life. She had to be on top of things, stay ahead of the game, maintain order. Something always needed to be done. And she liked that. Goals gave her life direction. Wasn’t that point? To accomplish something? To help? To go from point A to point B?
But what was there to do when one was speeding toward the sun? She couldn’t outthink her fate or argue that she wouldn’t burn. Solar flares didn’t care whether she had checked off her to-do list or not.
She had no choice but to embrace the uncertainty.
And that wasn’t something she’d ever really thought needed embracing. The wild unknown. It seemed so dangerous. So unsure.
So not her.
But now that she was staring down everything she’d been running from—failure, oblivion, a mysterious beyond she’d dismissed as illogical—she saw the beauty in the chaos. She’d been so blinded by the need to achieve, she’d never given abandon its due.
Except during sex.
And that was the thought her mind chose as she hurtled toward death.
Sex. The one place where she’d stopped fighting and surrendered. Surrendered to passion. And pleasure. To her desires. She’d pleaded to be washed away on a tidal wave of sensation and feeling. Whether that feeling was love or romance or joy or just the longing to release all her pent up emotions in the most physical ways possible—it was all her. Hermione unleashed.
Muffy had been trying to guide her home all along, to bring her back into balance. Life wasn’t all goals and outcomes. It was art, and music, and laughter. And touch. Souls touching souls. That couldn’t be found in a report or listed on a spreadsheet. It couldn’t be mapped on a chart. It had no beginning or end. There was no perfection to attain.
No boundaries.
Funny . . . she’d always relied on boundaries to provide her with a clear-cut path through life, but no one had ever told her of the freedom she might find if she gave up the path all together.
But she guessed the sun was about to do that for her. The choice had been taken out of her hands.
Closing her eyes, Hermione gave her life one last smile, grateful for all she’d been through, all the challenges she’d faced, all the people she’d loved, all the joy she’d experienced. And then she told the sun she was ready.
The time had come. Her days of fighting were over. It was time to rest.
A hand slid across her breast, the fingers brushing her nipple, sending a shiver of electricity through her core. She’d know that hand anywhere, that touch. Draco’s palm slid over her heart, and the heat of the sun was inside her.
“Open your eyes,” he whispered.
Her eyes snapped open, and it took Hermione a few seconds to realize the alien planet before her was actually an extreme closeup of Snape’s nipple. 
Oh thank Merlin! Just a dream! Lucius was right across from her, his head on Snape’s shoulder, his hand holding hers. And Draco was pressed to her back, his arm around her waist, hand cupping her breast. Everything was as it should be.
Except she was hot as Hades and covered in sweat. Why was it so damn hot?
And why did everything look so strange? She blinked a few times and lifted her head. Even in the dark, the room appeared abnormally detailed, as if she’d put on Harry’s glasses and they’d pushed her beyond 20/20 vision. And beneath the layer of sweat, her skin prickled with hyper-sensitivity. She could actually feel Draco’s heart pounding against her back like a lethargic bass drum.
And Snape’s heart—fucking hell! She could hear it as if she had a stethoscope in her ears. 
Her fingers twitched, brushing over Lucius’s, and she noticed the soft hiss of skin on skin was more like the loud shush of paper on paper. What the hell was happening?
She could smell more too. There were no strange smells, just the normal ones magnified. The crisp scent of the sheets. The cold wood of the bed. The metallic dampness of water in the bathroom. And Lucius. And Severus. And Draco. She could smell them all as if she had her nose buried in their balls. Had she become part-canine during the night?
The pre-light of approaching dawn slipped over the horizon, and the grey glow was enough to light up the room like a lantern for her. Was she delirious? Did she have a fever? That made sense. Sort of. It explained the sweat and the surreal quality of her surroundings, but she’d never heard of super-sniffers and extraordinary ears accompanying a fever.
“You all right?” Severus croaked, his voice hoarse with sleep.
Despite her bizarre heightened senses and the unbearable heat, she felt fine. Nodding, she turned to look at him and found herself struck dumb by his sleepy stare. That black gaze sucked her into its depths, tumbling her through its shadows until she couldn’t tell which way was up.
Severus took his hand off Lucius's thigh and cupped her cheek. "What’s wrong, baby?”
“Nothing,” she breathed. In her mind’s eye, she saw him watching her while she slept . . . carrying her to the bed . . . worrying about her. “I . . . I’m really hot, and everything looks strange.”
Suddenly more alert, he pressed his hand to her forehead. “You’re sweating. And what do you mean by strange?”
“I don’t know.” Staring into his eyes was like staring into his soul. She felt voyeuristic and, for some reason, vulnerable—as if she were putting her soul on display for him in return. “Kind of unreal. Too detailed.”
“Lucius, wake up.”
There was a muddled response next to him, but Lucius didn’t budge.
“Lucius,” Snape said louder. “Wake up now.”
Across from her, Lucius blinked open his eyes. Granite grey. Not cold at all. Just solid and strong. And she could see he needed her just much as she needed him.
Confusion flickered across Malfoy’s face, but it was quickly replaced by concern. “What’s going on?”
“Hermione’s feverish and she says everything looks strange.”
“How can she tell?” he mumbled, rubbing his face. “It’s still dark.”
“Hand me my wand. I’ll check her vitals.”
Lucius rolled over with an achy groan and retrieved Snape’s wand from the nightstand. Snatching it up, Severus aimed it at her head and began to mutter a string of spells under his breath.
“Is something happening?” Draco asked in a groggy voice.
Snape pulled his arm from beneath both of them. “Just checking Hermione. She’s got a temperature.”
Draco leaned back, and a blast cool air rushed over her damp skin.
“You’re soaked,” Draco said, trailing his fingers down her arm. “And I don't mean in the usual places. You want to take a cold shower?”
Hermione moaned. “Yeeees.” Gods! She wanted to swim in a sea of ice water.
“I can’t say I want to join you. At least not without an insulation charm for protection.”
“I’ll take her,” Snape told him. “I want to make sure I’m awake.”
“I’ll clean the sheets while you’re gone,” Lucius said, reaching for his own wand. “Then I’ll go down and owl Veronique.”
Severus nodded absently. “Yes.” He flicked his wand in an arc and lit all the lamps and candles.
Hermione flinched. It was too much too fast—and it reminded her of her dream. Something about the sun? Burning?
“Sit up, love. Let me look at your eyes.”
Hermione pushed herself up on one arm, and Draco rolled aside so she could shift back onto her hips. She glanced over at him, and her heart jolted with a rush of love. He was so adorable, like a disheveled little angel. And his eyes were the cool, calm grey of the ocean. She sank into them and saw him kissing her goodnight; in fact, she saw him kissing her over and over again, a montage of past snogging sessions. Smiling, she touched his chest.
Draco gave her a dopey grin and put his hand over hers. “How do you feel, love? Sick or anything?”
“No. Just hot.”
“Look at me,” Severus said, guiding his lit wand to her eyes.
"How do they look?" she asked. “Are they gold?”
He shook his head. “Beautiful brown. Just like usual. Everyone touch her so I can see if the gold is still there.”
Lucius and Draco each rested a hand on her body while Severus tucked a finger beneath her chin to lift her head. A jittery current coursed down her spine, and her nipples went hard as rocks. Bloody hell! They were like human espresso!
“Still the same,” Severus said to himself. “How does everything look now that the lights are on?”
"Too bright. Really intense.”
“Auras still there?”
She smiled. “Yes. But . . .”
“But what?”
“I don’t really need them. I can see more in your eyes.”
The line between his brow deepened. “What do you mean?”
“I can see things in your eyes. Like pictures.”
Severus glanced at Lucius, and they both frowned. Draco, however, appeared excited by the news.
“What can you see in my eyes?” he asked, moving in closer.
Hermione turned to him and immediately drifted into his ocean once more, pulled out to sea on his grey tide. “I see you kissing me. And . . . I see us in bed together. Rolling around. And there’s me giving you a bath.”
He grinned. “Wicked. How do you see it?’
She shrugged, hard-pressed to explain. “In my head. Like a really clear memory.”
“Is that all you see?”
“There’s more I haven’t sorted through yet.”
“Like what?”
She swam deeper, watching as new scenes washed over her inner eye. “I see us all together . . . you and Severus snogging . . . you on your broom, flying. And now you’re surrounded by lots of lights. It’s Paris. You’re . . . with your mother. She’s wearing a blue dress.”
Draco’s face fell. “It’s night?”
“Yes.”
“That was the last time we went.”
“You’re kissing her cheek at a little cafe. She looks happy.”
A hesitant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “What else do you see?”
When the next wave came, Hermione’s eyes filled with tears. “You crying. Alone. In your room. With her picture. Oh God.” She clutched her chest. “It feels like my heart is breaking.”
Severus reached over and turned her face to his, snapping her connection with Draco. Using his fingers, he wiped the tears from her face. “Look in Lucius’s eyes. Tell me what you see.”
Hermione turned to Lucius, who appeared mildly alarmed by the prospect. She was apprehensive as well, but her curiosity overrode her anxiety; she had to know if his eyes held the same imagery Draco’s did. 
Meeting his gaze with a reassuring nod, she relaxed her focus and let herself meld with his magic. “I see us shagging on the patio.”
Lucius sighed in relief, exhaling a chuckle. “A worthy reflection.”
“I see us all together, shagging in this bed. I see Lucius carrying me upstairs. I see him snogging you, Severus. A lot.”
Lucius snorted.
“I see you two hugging. In this room. There’re sparkles all over the floor.”
Lucius didn’t look away, but his throat bulged as he visibly swallowed.
“I see Narcissa. She looks sick. Tired. I see Lucius sitting in her room at St. Mungo’s.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, not wanting to intrude on their private moment. Once again, she felt as if her heart had been pierced by a stiletto of pain; she rubbed at it with the tips of her fingers. “I see Lucius and Narcissa getting married.” She smiled softly. “And baby Draco.”
Lucius’s jaw clenched.
“And Draco and Narcissa playing outside. He’s picking her flowers. And . . . I see . . . a cell. It’s dark. And scary. And cold.” She shivered, her stomach lurching with nausea. “I don’t like it here.”
Severus touched her chin, turning her face back to his. “What do you see in my eyes?”
Hermione licked her lips and took a deep breath. Eye gazing was much more tiring than advertised. Tiring and disorienting. Her peripheral vision squiggled with floating shapes, and the room rotated ever so slightly when she wasn’t looking.
Severus stroked the underside of her jaw with one finger, condensing her attention into a single line of tingling skin. The room steadied, and she smiled at him, grateful for the aid, but as soon as their eyes locked, she fell into his black eyes as if she were falling into space, the infinite enormity of the universe swirling around her like a funhouse.
“I see you watching me while I sleep,” she said, clutching his knee to keep from spinning off the bed. “You’re worried. And I see . . . you in your lab, working. I’m coming through the door; you’re kissing my forehead. And there we are in the rocking chair.”
The image wrapped her in warmth, and Hermione relaxed. “You’re hugging me. Rubbing my back. I see you at school, teaching. I see you with Draco, talking in the kitchen. And you with Lucius in bed. Not shagging, just talking. And there’s the same thing I saw in Lucius’s head: you hugging him in here with a sparkly carpet. Why’s the carpet sparkling?”
“It’s glass,” he whispered. “What else do you see?”
“You and Lucius and Narcissa in bed together. But . . . you feel left out. You’re so alone, Severus.” A wave of isolation engulfed her, and a piece of her dream came rushing back—futile desolation and awe seamlessly merged into the starkest, most beautiful darkness. 
A sob closed off her throat, but after a few tries she managed to find a path around it, “I see you alone in your quarters at Hogwarts. And alone at Spinner’s End.”
His face didn’t budge, but his breathing seemed heavier.
“I see you talking to Dumbledore. And I see you standing outside a little house. I know it. It’s the Potter’s house in Godric’s Hollow. You’re scared.”
“That’s enough,” Snape rasped.
“You and a little redheaded girl at a park. You’re so young. And you’re smiling.”
“I said that’s enough.”
The pictures in her head vanished. Hermione blinked, dazed, and looked to him for comfort. Except his eyes had hardened—cold and shuttered. The old Snape was back. Oh gods, she hadn’t meant to hurt him! “I’m sorry! I couldn’t get out.”
He nodded. “It’s all right. I understand. Lucius, tell Veronique she’s displaying some kind of new Legilimency abilities. Wandless. Unrefined and rogue. She can’t control it yet.”
“Legilimency? I’ve had my mind invaded by the best, and it never felt like that,” Lucius scoffed.
“I can’t say I’ve ever known anything like it either, but the basic process seems the same. She’s entering our consciousness and witnessing our memories.”
“But she’s feeling them, Severus. That’s not Legilimency.”
“Perhaps she has some latent Empathic powers. I’ve only met one Innate Empath, so my experience is limited, but he explicitly told me Empaths only feel what others are feeling at that moment. They feel it in their bodies; they don’t have visions, and they don’t go digging through peoples thoughts. Plus I was able to block her out with Occlumency, and Occlumency can’t block an Innate Empath. Which leads me to believe it’s some kind of Legilimency.”
“Can a person be both?” Lucius asked.
“I’ve never heard of that,” Severus said, his brow furrowed in thought. “Legilimency is an openness to the intricacies of the mind, while Empaths are more connected to the emotional body and the heart. People tend to lean toward one or the other. But I don’t see why it couldn’t be possible. I’ll keep an eye out when I search the library today.” He let his hand drift lower, grazing her collarbone and trailing down to her heart. “It’s time we got some real answers about what’s going on; if Veronique doesn’t know, we’ll have to do our own research.” Severus glanced at Lucius. “We should let Hermione rest. I’ll get her in the shower and cool her off. Wait to send the owl until we’re done. If it helps, that might be a clue . . . or a symptom. At the very least it’ll be helpful information.”
His fingers glided upward to her neck, where he caressed the curve of her throat with barely any pressure, almost tickling. “Did that wear you out?”
“Sort of,” she said carefully, unsure if she had adequate words to describe how she felt.
He nodded.
“Are you upset with me?” she asked hesitantly.
He did a double-take, obviously stunned, and then looked to Draco and Lucius for some kind of clarification. “Upset with you?”
“For seeing all that. I feel as though I went snooping through your diary.”
He breathed out a small smile. “I’ll get over it.”
“You still love me?”
The hard barrier of his gaze softened. “Of course I do.”
“And you two?” she asked, Lucius and Draco.
Lucius smirked and leaned over Snape to kiss her. “We all still love you.”
Draco pecked the back of shoulder. “Slytherins just aren’t known for their emotional honesty. You outed us, and we weren't ready for it.”
She smiled at him. “I promise I won’t go looking without permission.”
“You might not like what you find,” Snape said, his voice dark with warning.
Hermione rested her hand over his and squeezed his fingers.  “I knew what I was getting into when we started this whole thing. I know you all have pasts you’d like to forget—or pasts you’re clinging to—just like anybody else. You’re not going to scare me away.” She looked at Lucius, the memory of his cell still haunting her heart. “Everyone has regrets. It’s who you are now that matters to me. I love you, past and all.”
Lucius stacked his hand atop hers, his mouth a tight line of restraint, but his eyes clearly saying thank you.
Hermione touched Draco with her other hand, and a shiver skittered up her spine. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell you what I see anymore. I don’t want to make you sad.”
Draco lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “You can tell me. Just warn me first.”
Severus patted her leg. “Come along, love. Let’s put you in the shower and see if we can get your temperature down.”
Hermione groaned in gratitude. She was ready to cool off and rinse away the sweat. And she needed time to think. Suddenly being able to poke about in people’s heads was disconcerting to say the least. She had to get used to the idea; and she had to think about how such insight might change her life. That was a lot to sort through, and it might take more than a shower to come to any conclusions.
Plus, being in the shower with Snape could be distracting. 
If she played her cards right, she might not get any thinking done at all.
Key Change—When a song changes key partway through. (Usually a half step up—I can’t think of any that go down—and usually it’s toward the end of the song. Think of the final big upward heave in Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You.”)
“Suddenly I See” by KT Tunstall. Written by KT Tunstall and released in 2005 on her album Eye to the Telescope. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=9AEoUa0Hlso
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