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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.

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70—Espressivo
“Oh brother, we'll go deeper than the ink, beneath the skin of our tattoos. Though we don't share the same blood, you're my brother, and I love you that's the truth.”—Kodaline
(Lucius) 
As Lucius crested the top of the stairs, he scanned the corridors for any signs of life. He’d been searching the house for over ten minutes, and his anxiety grew with the passing of every empty floor. Where the hell were they?
Glancing into his darkened bedroom, he spotted light seeping beneath the bathroom door, its glow signaling success. The strip of illumination created a path for him along the floor, and as soon as he started down the lighted trail, the bathroom door opened and Hermione emerged, creeping out backward on her tiptoes and pulling the door closed with a quiet click. She must have sensed his presence though, because she whipped her head around and peered into the dark.
“Lucius!” she whispered, as if she were both shocked and delighted to see him.
Rushing toward each other, Lucius swept her into a fierce hug, lifting her off the ground and holding her against his chest for a moment before allowing her to slide down his body. "Are you all right?" he demanded, still riding the agitation of his panic. “You scared the hell out of me disappearing like that.”
Hermione nodded. “What about you? Are you okay?”
Lucius pressed his face into her hair. “I’ll be fine.” Now that I’ve found you. 
He didn’t want to compound the night’s drama by mentioning that he might in fact be bleeding to death, his heart ripped open by the surprise visit from Narcissa. Lucius had attempted to staunch the aortal flow out in the garden, but he’d only managed to soak the wound in tears, which might have been cathartic but, ultimately, accomplished nothing; it still felt as if a rusty spike had been yanked from his left ventricle; and while he would be eternally grateful to Narcissa for removing the nail, the hole it left behind seemed problematic, as he didn’t know emotional first-aid.
He only knew that when he had Hermione in his arms, it hurt a little less.
“Draco told me what happened while I was out,” Hermione said hesitantly.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to tell you myself, love.” Lucius rubbed the back of her neck and kissed her head. He was supposed to be her rock, her protection from the world, and instead he’d been having a nervous breakdown by the roses. Sweet Salazar, what good was he as a partner if he wasn’t there when she needed him most? He’d failed to deliver on his most important assignment.
Had he also fallen down on the job with Severus? What was his job with Severus? Snape didn’t need Lucius to take care of him. Did he? No. That couldn’t be right. Severus didn’t need anyone to take care of him.
Although, to be fair, Hermione didn’t need anyone to take care of her either; that was just an idea Lucius chose to believe so he could feel useful. But still he believed it; and he believed in loyalty when it came to Severus. That didn’t give him any clues as to what the proper etiquette was in such a situation, but he didn’t want Severus to be alone after what had happened outside.
Lucius had initially hoped that Lily’s sweet words of forgiveness and love would help Severus find some much needed peace—but Snape hadn’t embraced the entirety of her message. And perhaps with good reason. Lucius didn’t appreciate any voices from beyond the grave critiquing his friend’s social skills. So Sev was a little cold sometimes. So what? He’d come a long way since the war, and Lucius thought Evans could cut him some slack—the man had died after all. And he was immeasurably warmer than he used to be. Hell’s bells, with Hermione he was downright affectionate. 
There was just no pleasing some people.
Lucius raked up Granger’s wild hair with both hands and tipped back her head so he could see her face. “Is Severus in there?”
She nodded. “He’s pretty upset. He punched the mirror.”
Malfoy’s eyes darted to the bathroom door. He didn’t need to see the damage to know exactly what had happened. 
Snape hadn’t punched the mirror—he’d punched himself in the mirror. Like Lucius, Severus reveled in the light of Hermione’s love . . . but there was so much darkness in him that that light could sometimes be painful. It wasn't anger that fueled his outburst, merely self-loathing, which, of the two, could be far more destructive. Lucius had been tempted to break his own face on multiple occasions but hadn’t managed more than a few bruised knuckles. It seemed Severus carried a bit more rage in his swing.
Hermione pressed her face to his chest and kissed his heart, her warm exhalation puffing over his nipple. “I don’t want to annoy Severus after everything that’s happened tonight, and I know he wants to be alone; but I can’t just leave him to suffer. I don’t know what to do. I guess I’ll try again in a little bit.”
Lucius smiled into her hair. That was Hermione—desperate to make sure they were taken care of, even after a tumultuous night of magical orgies and acting as medium for their deceased loved ones.
She looked up at him, and her brow puckered as she searched his gaze. “You love him, don't you? I mean really love him, like . . . he’s a part of you.”
Lucius hadn’t been prepared for such an intimate question, but the thought of lying never crossed his mind. “Yes,” he breathed. “You know I do.”
“Then, please, go in there and help him. You know him better than any of us. What would you want him to do if the situation were reversed?”
The situation had been reversed, and Severus was living proof that emotional proficiency wasn't a requirement when it came to comforting a friend. He'd instinctively supported Lucius and provided precisely the right blend of stability and understanding. No judgement. No demands. No expectations. That was love. He’d asked nothing of Lucius; he wanted only to be there in his hour of need.
And Lucius wanted to do the same for Severus. “I’ll talk to him.”
Hermione broke into a wide smile and her eyes spilled over, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Thank you.”
Spinning in his arms, she took Lucius by the hand and led him to the bathroom. He followed willingly, but his heart jolted with a rush of apprehension. He didn't like not having a plan. Winging such a delicate negotiation sounded dangerous.
When they walked in, Malfoy's eyes flew to the shattered mirror, its stark sparkle impossible to ignore, but then he saw Severus sitting on the floor, slumped dejectedly against the wall, his bandaged hand in his lap. The domineering posture Lucius knew so well had melted into utter defeat.
Hermione left Lucius by the door, and, walking over, crouched down and tentatively touched Snape’s shoulder. “Severus? I know you want to be alone, but . . .” She bit her trembling lower lip and looked up for help.
Malfoy crossed to Snape’s opposite side and took a knee. A wall of black hair hid Severus from view, but Lucius didn’t need to see his face to know he’d been crying. The anguish rolled off him like a thundercloud. 
“But we can’t leave you alone,” Lucius said, finishing Hermione’s sentence. “If you want to beat yourself black and blue, we won’t stop you. That’s your right—and I understand where you’re coming from—but you aren’t alone anymore.”
Severus lifted his head and looked at Lucius. His features had twisted into that of a stranger, but around the edges of his eyes, Lucius thought he detected a hint of relief.
Malfoy rested his hand on Snape’s neck, his fingers stroking the concealed scars that lay below the surface. It tore him up inside to see his friend in such pain, but that distress just made him all the more determined to hold tight. Devotion thrummed through Lucius’s veins like a beating drum, and the power of its resonance drove the words from his heart to the tip of his tongue. “We’re all here for you, Severus. I’m here for you. Don’t you dare try to push me away. You know I’m too damn stubborn to leave. And I wouldn’t want to. I . . . I love you too much. You’re a part of me now. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 
Snape’s black eyes bored into his. Perhaps peering into his mind. His face betrayed nothing.
“I know Draco loves you too,” Hermione whispered. “Why don’t I go find him, and we can all get in bed together? Does that sound okay? I’d like to rest a bit . . . with all three of you around me.”
Lucius nodded. “That sounds perfect. But we can’t do it without you, Severus. Come to bed. Rest for a while.” He held out his hand. “Please.”
Snape’s gaze dropped to his palm. But he said nothing.
No response.
Not even a twitch.
The silence of the room screamed in Malfoy’s ears, its interminable void pulsating in time with the tendon in his temple. Could a moment last an eternity?
It seemed it could.
Shit! Had he said the wrong thing? Hermione could get away with all that demonstrative honesty, but Lucius didn’t have her warmth. Had he overplayed his hand? Did Severus prefer their affection remain unspoken?
Hermione’s eyes darted between them, her teeth pinching her lower lip until it shone white, the anxiety visibly vibrating through her body.
Lucius remained completely still, but inside, his stomach rattled like a freight train. It seemed impossible that no one could hear it amidst the sepulchral hush.
The piercing silence became a high-pitched wail, the weight of it bearing down on them, its pressure so intense he knew Hermione would burst into tears if something didn’t happen soon.
And he might join her. All that quiet provided too much room for doubt.
Fuck! What had he done? Had he just destroyed a thirty year friendship? When would he learn to keep his big mouth shut and leave well enough alone?
Snape’s cold eyes shifted from Malfoy’s hand to his face, glaring, and Lucius’s heart plummeted into his colon. So devastated was he by those black eyes that it took him a moment to realize Severus’s good hand had risen from his lap.
In what seemed like slow-motion, Snape slid his palm over Lucius’s and locked his fingers around the base of his thumb, tightening his grip until every last doubt had been purged from Malfoy’s mind. 
Lucius folded his fingers over and squeezed him back.
A wave of freedom surged through his body, the same wild rush that he used to feel when he first started shagging Severus, both of them high on adrenaline and testosterone. They’d been invincible.
Perhaps they still were.
Hermione’s face glittered with fresh tears, and heaving out a relieved a sigh, she pecked Snape on the cheek. “I’ll just go find Draco. He’ll be sad if he doesn’t get to love you too. Meet you in the big bed, Daddy.”
Severus kept his eyes on Lucius’s, but he smiled ever so slightly.
Lucius smiled back . . .
and the lingering pain in his heart faded to a whisper.
Espressivo—“The Italian musical term espressivo is an indication to play expressively, and may also encourage physical expression by the performer. Espressivo allows a performer to convey the mood of a musical composition by taking slight liberties with its articulation and dynamics.”—Source: ThoughtCo.
“Brother” by Kodaline. Written by Jason Boland, Vincent May, Corey Sanders, Jon Maguire, Mark Prendergast, Alex Davies, and Stephen Garrigan; and released in 2017.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=m6TXPNybrmk
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