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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
- 67
- 68
- 69
A/N: Snape’s_Princess: Hahaha! Yeah, I am a little evil (the cliffhangers bring it out in me).
68—Requiem
“Knock knock knocking on heaven’s door.”—Bob Dylan
(Hermione) 
Where the hell am I? And why is it so foggy? Am I near the docks? Hermione waved her hand in front of her face and attempted to clear a path for her vision, but the fog didn’t really move; it just hung in the air like hazy soup, thick and opaque. She couldn’t even see her feet to know what kind of ground she was standing on.
“It can’t be defined,” said a voice from behind her.
Hermione spun around. “Who’s there?”
Should she run? It sounded like a woman, but female didn’t automatically mean safe.
“It’s just us.” The voice seemed to come from all directions at once. “We’re here to help.”
Hermione squinted at what she thought was movement. “Us who? Where am I?”
She caught a glimpse of red hair, and then a woman’s face materialized from the dense vapor. Hermione had seen that face before. In pictures. “You . . . you’re Harry’s mum.”
The woman smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Hermione.”
Lily Potter held out her hand, and without thinking, Hermione shook it. The hand was warm. Very alive. Not what Hermione expected. “Am I . . . Am I dead?”
“No, not at all,” Lily said reassuringly. “You're just . . . how shall I put this . . . in between. Your magic has opened you enough to come to this place and experience something not of the physical realm.”
A second person stepped from the fog, and Hermione’s eyes went wide. “Mrs. Malfoy?”
The blonde bowed her head in greeting, her refined expression slightly amused. "Please don't look so horrified. I haven’t come all this way to frighten you.”
“Right,” Lily confirmed. “We came to help. Or at least help those you love.”
Too stunned to speak, Hermione just stood there, staring at them both with all the slack-jawed charm of a mounted mackerel. This couldn't be real. She was having a conversation with two dead women, for God’s sake! Granted, they seemed perfectly nice, but the whole situation screamed psychotic break.
Mrs. Malfoy stepped closer and looked into Hermione’s eyes. “I don’t know how to gracefully segue into such a personal conversation, so I’ll just be blunt. I came to tell you that Lucius needs you.”
“He does?” Hermione croaked. Could the conversation possibly get any more surreal?
Narcissa smiled and took her hand. Although her touch was as warm as Lily’s, Hermione felt a cool breeze wash up her arm, and for no explainable reason she suddenly felt as if she had a deep, emotional link to the woman.
They were old friends.
Nodding, Narcissa went on, “He needs a powerful witch to keep him in line, a witch who won’t back down from a challenge. Because Lucius can be a challenge. He’s a magnificent man, loving and strong; but he’s also contemptuous of anything that threatens his world view. By the time we married, I was so inured to his arrogance I barely noticed it. But as Draco grew older, I saw how Lucius’s scorn was hardening Draco’s heart. I tried to make up for it, but a boy needs a father’s love. You’ve already helped them much more than you realize. Don’t let up. Lucius loves you. He’ll listen to you. They both need your compassion.”
Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat. “You’re not angry that I’m with them? That we’re all . . . ?”
Narcissa’s grey eyes softened. “I’m not angry in the slightest. Even when I was living, I knew solitude wasn't good for Lucius. I never wanted him to be alone if I died. He needs the give and take of a partner, someone to remind him there’s more to life than Galleons and prestige. And now you’ve given him a family again. He needs that more than anything.”
“Severus does too,” Lily said softly. “A real family, who openly loves one another. That means more to him than he lets on . . . the unconditional love. I offered him a chance to explore his gentler inclinations, but Severus was . . . fearful. Resistant. He chose power to protect himself—and with his upbringing, I can understand why. But you’re his chance at redemption, Hermione. He’s so afraid he’s going to fail you both he can’t fully accept your love or his own. But he just needs time and patience. Now that he knows about the Quartet, it’ll be easier for him.”
“I won’t abandon him,” Hermione whispered.
Lily broke into a wide grin. “I never doubted you for an instant. You don’t give up on anyone. But Severus has a lot of baggage; and it’s going to take some extra hands to lighten his load. He has to let go of the past to move forward. He has to reconnect with Harry. They both have deep wounds that can only be healed by the other. And after everything they’ve been through, Harry and Severus both deserve peace.”
Severus reconnect with Harry? Was this witch crazy? “I’ll . . . do my best.”
Lily’s lips quivered with restrained laughter, and Hermione noticed her eyes crinkled at the corners exactly like Harry’s. “Don’t worry,” Lily told her. “It won’t involve any Unforgivables. Just be ready; you’ll know what needs to be done when the time comes.”
“Okay.”
“And make sure Draco is taken care of,” Narcissa added in a rush, as if their time were growing short. “He's come a long way on his own, but you give him the acceptance he needs to thrive. He has the capacity for so much love. It’s going to take all three of you to make him overflow with it.”
“I’ll take care of all of them. I promise.”
Lily and Narcissa both heaved out matching sighs, seemingly relieved to have passed on their messages. Lily put her hand on Hermione’s arm, and Hermione shivered as another calm breeze blew through her bones.
“They’re getting scared; you should go back now,” Lily told her.
“And how exactly do I get back?”
Narcissa and Lily gave each other a look that didn’t fill Hermione with confidence.
Wincing, Lily raised her shoulders in a reluctant shrug. “We can get you there fast if you like.”
“All right,” Hermione said haltingly.
“Don’t be frightened,” Lily went on. “You’re not really falling.”
“Falling?”
“Close your eyes,” Narcissa suggested. “It makes it easier. Count to ten.”
Hermione shut her eyes, and felt two hands alight on either shoulder. She waited for some kind of signal, but all she felt was a boisterous shove. 
Hermione soared backwards, arms and legs flying in all directions, preparing for the jarring slam of impact. But there was no ground. That was very wrong. She squeezed her eyes tight and counted in her head, her stomach dropping the whole time as if she’d missed a step on the staircase.
When she counted, ‘Seven,’ her body jolted, and Hermione opened her eyes wide, her gaze darting back and forth in an instinctive effort to reestablish her location in the universe. Place? Time? Lack of fog? She recognized her surroundings, and realized she was naked on the chaise. Still outside. But she wasn’t alone. Draco sat next to her, doubled over in soundless tears as he clutched her limp hand between both of his.
"Draco?”
Sniffling, he looked up and wiped his eyes. “You're awake! Thank gods!”
“What happened?”
“You don’t remember?”
“I went somewhere. I talked to . . . your mother and Lily Potter.”
“That’s putting it lightly.”
“What do you mean?”
“They talked through you, Hermione. We heard their voices.”
“Really?” How could someone talk through her without her knowing? How long had she been out? “What did they say?”
“I . . . I don’t know if I can remember it all. It happened so fast.” Draco paused, wiping his eyes and taking a deep breath, but then he began to systematically recount the confab piece by piece, a talent he’d developed during countless meetings at the Ministry, “Mother told me she loves me and she’s proud of me. She said the same to Father and then told him to stop trying to make me something I wasn’t. She said he should learn to love again. And then she told us to make sure you know how much we love you.”
He covered his face with one hand, and his shoulders began to shake. “I d-do love you, Hermione. So much.”
Hermione sat up and threw her arms around him, rubbing his back in slow circles. “Shhhhhhh,” she murmured. “It’s okay. I know.” After kissing his cheek, she blotted away the tears that had dripped down his jaw. “I love you too. With all my heart. But I’m confused—where are Lucius and Severus?”
Draco pointed to the edge of the garden, and Hermione saw Lucius by the rose bushes, his back to them, head bowed in sorrow, obviously crying. Her heart went out to him. How startling must it have been to hear from his wife again? No warning. No preparation. Just raw emotion. Vulnerability wasn’t Lucius’s strong suit. Hermione would have to let him calm down before she ventured over.
“Snape freaked out after hearing from Lily,” Draco whispered, as if reluctant to mention it. “He stormed off without saying a word.”
“What did she say that upset him?”
"She thanked him for everything he did for Harry, but then she said she was disappointed that he couldn’t look past his hatred of James to treat her only son with more kindness. That was when he freaked out. It looked like someone stabbed him in the stomach; I thought he was gong to retch. She told him his heart wasn’t made for such self-imposed guilt—he couldn’t go on blaming himself. She said something about love not always ending in misery and it being time for him to try again. Then she said she forgave him and hoped he could forgive himself and reconcile with Harry one day. She was gone after that, and Snape was too.”
“I should go check on him. Are you all right?”
He nodded. “I just wasn’t ready for all this . . . and I was scared you were never going to come out of it.”
“I will always come back to you,” she said firmly. “Just like your mother did. When you love someone, you never leave them. Not really. I promised her I’d take care of you, and I never go back on a promise.”
Draco squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”
Smiling, Hermione leaned in and kissed his cheek. “It’s really no trouble. How could I ever go on without the sweetest piece of my heart?”
He gave her a watery half-smile in return. “You couldn’t. You need me. And I need you. But so does Snape. And honestly, you’re the only one who can talk to him when he gets like this. Go make sure he’s not doing something mental. I’m worried.”
"I’ll find him. Keep an eye on your father till I get back. I’ll check on him as soon as I make sure Severus is okay.”
"Here.” Draco pulled off his shirt and put it around her shoulders. “I don’t know where all your clothes are.”
“Thank you, love.” She slipped her arms into the sleeves. “Very chivalrous.”
He smirked.
Hermione stood and, after giving Draco a parting peck on the head, stepped over the wall of melted candles and made her way across the yard. The house was dark and quiet when she got inside, and she padded through the halls wondering where Severus had gone. The lab? His room? Or had he just up and left?
Closing her eyes, she concentrated on an image of him and got a sense of his presence. So he was in the house. Her Quartet-navigation system said upstairs. 
On the second floor, Hermione immediately headed toward Lucius’s bedroom without knowing why. The interior appeared dark and empty, but the bathroom door stood slightly ajar. Not how they’d left it.
Creeping to the door, Hermione peered into the inky shadows and spotted a shirtless Severus sitting on the floor, curled into his knees like a terrified child, his wand forgotten on the marble tile beside him. Tiptoeing to his side, Hermione bent down to pick it up so she could light the lights. A swish and flick brought up the gas flames—and what their soft glow revealed stopped her heart.
The center of the mirror looked as though it had been smashed by a wrecking ball; cracked glass splintered out from the impact in a massive spiderweb of broken reflections. A million decapitated Hermiones blinked back at her. Five or six blinked from the sink’s basin, where several jagged shards had fallen and shattered against the porcelain. It took her a second to realize why they looked rusty.
Hermione glanced down. Snape’s right fist was bloody and mangled, dark red rivers streaming over his knuckles. Her hand flew to her mouth. Oh, Severus. What have you done to yourself?
Dropping to her knees before him, she gently touched the back of his head. A flash of heavy pain traveled up her arms, like heartache and nausea cramping through her muscles, but she didn’t pull away. 
Lily had been right: Severus did deserve peace. And Hermione longed to help him find that still spot in his soul, the place where the monsters in his mind couldn't be heard and the horrors of his past lost their definition.
But first Hermione had to remind him that he was neither those monsters nor those memories, because as long as Severus considered himself unworthy, the door to salvation would remain in the shadows. He wouldn’t even go looking for it.
Hermione vowed right then and there to let her love for him burn so brightly that he couldn’t help but find his way back to her. 
Back to all of them. 
A home, full of love and acceptance, was the only sanctuary Severus ever really needed. Hermione just had to remind him he was already there. He’d never left. Couldn’t. Home was where the heart was, and he could never be outside of their love.
Sanctuary was his for the taking.
The only question was, would he take it or not?
Requiem—A composition for the repose of the dead.
“Knocking on Heaven’s Door” by Bob Dylan. Written by Bob Dylan and released in 1973.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=_bWzyiU-S_w
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- 69
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