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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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72—Mezzo Piano
“Put a little love in your heart.”—Jackie DeShannon
(Lucius) 
Lucius slid from the bed and sauntered toward the bathroom, his body slack and loose, oozing relaxation. After a solid hour of cuddling in the big bed with everyone, Lucius had gotten an additional thirty minutes of alone time with Severus, and apparently that was enough magic to tranquilize every overwrought cell in his body. Blissed out of his gourd, he could scarcely walk a straight line.
And that was simply from lying about and talking.
Well . . . not only talking. Malfoy smiled to himself, the memory of Snape’s thigh still warm in his hand. He’d have to get a bit more of that when he returned.
They’d talked privately while Hermione and Draco bathed, and the discussion ranged from the two in the tub to what they were going to do about Hermione’s increasing psychic talents. They did not discuss the otherworldly messages they’d received that night, but they did wonder if mediumship would be a common occurrence. Snape thought not, and Lucius agreed—but he carried a tiny torch of hope that he might hear from Narcissa again.
Not any time soon . . . just somewhere down the road.
When Lucius entered the bathroom, he found Hermione on her knees, toweling Draco’s legs dry as she kissed the water from his prick. Sighing, Lucius shook his head. Must she coddle him so? How would Draco ever learn to be his own man if she kept making him her little boy?
This is how empires fall and families lose their fortunes. One weak link.
Surely Narcissa hadn’t been referring to such infantile behavior when she asked him to stop trying to change Draco. This was their son they were talking about; they both wanted success for the boy, and that would never come about if Draco continued to regress into childhood.
And why isn’t Hermione licking me like that when we get out of the tub? Why the hell does she only do things like this for Draco?
‘Jealous much?’ his bollocks snarked.
I am not jealous! I’m merely asking a question.
‘If you want her to lick us, then why don’t you just ask? Has she ever turned you down?’
Hmmmmm. No, I suppose you’re right.
‘Of course we are. We’re always right. We’re you.’
Smirking to himself, Lucius stood at the sink and studied his reflection in the partially-mended mirror. He looked a bit haggard: stubble on his cheek, hair in disarray, eyes shadowed with exhaustion. Definitely not his best work.
Opening the top drawer, he pulled out a jar of cream, the finest dark circle remover money could buy, and patted it into the skin around his eye with his ring finger—just as Narcissa had taught him. The circles faded, taking about ten years off his appearance, and he silently thanked the Magic Factor company for producing such a quality product. Eye issues resolved, he went in search of his charmed comb, which had somehow gotten shoved beneath the giant jar of tooth whitening powder. He worked his way through the tangles, and once every strand had been returned to its rightful place, he tossed the comb aside and leaned in to assess the stubble situation. Growling inwardly, he waved off the razor signals from his overly fastidious reflection. Shaving would have to wait till morning; his brain wasn’t up to the task.
Gaze slanting to the side of the mirror, he couldn’t help noticing what Hermione was doing to his son, her bobbing head the only discernible action in the room. Although he preferred to never dwell on Draco’s genitalia, the way she moved kept Malfoy spellbound. Those lips. That tongue. That should be me in her mouth.
Lucius put on his most disarming smirk and peered over his shoulder. “Am I next?”
“If you like,” she said with a grin. “I’ll give you a taste after I put Draco to bed.”
Lucius rolled his eyes. “He’s a grown man, not a child. He can put himself to bed.”
That must have been the wrong thing to say, because her expression instantaneously hardened.
“Don’t you start this,” she hissed, her voice sharp with fury. “Not tonight. Everyone wants to be cared for. Even you. So you can fucking cool it with the caustic comments.”
Taken aback by her vehemence, Lucius could only reply with a series of rapid blinks.
“She’s right.”
Malfoy turned to find Severus casually leaning against the doorframe. 
“At least Draco is honest about what he wants,” Snape drawled, his fingers raking along his bare chest in a thoughtful scratch. “That’s more than I can say for myself.”
“Oh, so now I’m the heartless father because I want my adult son to not act like a damn toddler?”
Severus arched a brow at him. “What we do in this house is our business. Draco’s a fine man when he goes out into the world. But when he’s with us, he should be able to get what he really needs. That’s what keeps him sane enough to be a good man.” A look of sudden understanding flickered over his face. “Perhaps that’s what we all need—to refuel.”
Snape walked over and cupped the curve of Draco’s cheek, his thumb tracing the angular contours of the boy’s face. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to Draco’s forehead, and Draco froze in surprise, obviously caught off guard by the onslaught of attention.
The jealousy in Malfoy’s gut ignited to a raging inferno. Those hands belonged on his body. That kiss was meant for his lips. All of that was for him. His lover. His Severus. His Hermione.
Not for Draco. Draco didn’t deserve . . .
The half-finished thought rolled through Lucius like a gong. 
What was he going to say? Draco didn’t deserve love? Draco didn’t deserve pleasure? Draco didn’t deserve care? That wasn’t what he believed. His son deserved the best of everything. Where had such a vicious train of thought come from?
‘You know,’ his gut replied. 
Why the hell was his body being so argumentative all the sudden? I know?
‘You only put up defenses when you think you have to protect yourself.’
Are you saying I think I have to protect myself from Draco?
‘Did you get defensive? Did you lash out? Did you think things that went against everything you believe? It seems you’ve answered your own question.’
Why on earth would I need to protect myself from Draco?
‘What an excellent question. Why would you feel your only child is a threat?’
I don’t. I just don’t want him to . . . take what’s mine.
‘Sounds like a threat. What do you think will happen? How will he take them from you?’
They might decide they prefer his company. He’s all “sweet” and “loving.” And I’m . . . not.
‘Well you’re not when you get like this. Do you honestly think Hermione and Severus have been humoring you all this time, that they secretly wish you were more like Draco?’
Well, when you say it like that, it sounds absurd. Why would they want me to be like Draco when they have Draco?
‘Why indeed. Do you think that, perhaps, hearing from Narcissa tonight might have been a trigger?’
What do you mean?
‘I mean you’ve been cold toward Draco ever since the seance. Have you noticed?’
I couldn’t help it. It was . . .
‘Automatic?’
Yes.
‘Why? Why was your automatic response to Narcissa’s presence to shut Draco out, to hurt him?’
Because . . . I don’t want her to love him more than me.
‘Do you believe she did?’
Yes. She adored him.
‘Narcissa loved Draco more than you. You know that to be a fact?’
It seemed like she did at times.
‘So if you make him look bad, there’s no more competition? You win?’
Yes.
‘Then turning Draco into the enemy must have made Narcissa love you more. Tell me, how much more did she love you?’ 
It . . . it didn’t make her love me more.
‘Is it making Hermione love you now?’
No. Lucius clutched his stomach as a wave of nausea swept through his gut. The opposite.
‘Perhaps that’s something to think about in the future.’
Marvelous! I’m a horrible father! What the hell am I supposed to do about it? How am I supposed stop an automatic reaction?
‘I don’t know. But you’re a determined man who seems rather fond of the idea of personal responsibility. I’m sure you’ll find a solution.’
Lucius stood there, stone still, his forehead damp, too staggered by the truth to move.
Severus bent down and looked into Draco’s eyes as he slowly stroked his pointed chin. “You are such a good boy. Why don’t you go get under the covers with Hermione and get warm. It’s almost time for bed.”
Draco nodded, and Snape leaned in to give him a kiss on the lips, which had Hermione beaming like a million watt bulb. Rising to her feet, she pecked Snape’s chest and, without looking back, took Draco by the hand and led him out to the bedroom. Lucius loved seeing her smile like that, but he certainly didn’t like being the odd man out. He’d become a pariah in his own home.
When they were alone, Lucius crossed to Snape and whispered so they couldn’t be overheard, “What was all that with the petting and the ‘good boy’? Are you trying to turn my son into your baby too?”
“That boy needs all the tenderness he can handle.” Severus replied evenly. “And he needs a man’s love. If you aren’t going to give it to him, I will.” Severus snaked his arm around Lucius’s shoulders and, with a sigh, pressed his forehead to Malfoy’s. “I love you, Lucius. But, sometimes, you can be a judgmental prick.”
Lucius gaped at him, stunned. Not about the prick comment—he’d heard worse from Severus—but because he hadn’t been expecting the I love you. At least not so soon. How long had it taken Severus to say it back to Hermione? Months? And now here he was saying in less than two hours! What progress!
And the way he’d softened the blow of affection by blending it so seamlessly with a personal rebuke—how perfectly Snape. A laugh of delight danced over Lucius's lips. “Are you going soft on me?” he asked, smiling to show he wasn’t really upset.
Severus ground his burgeoning erection into Lucius’s groin. “Not in the slightest,” he murmured. “But this is the best I’ve felt in years, and I don’t want to lose that—or any of you.”
Snape’s unveiled honesty reawakened the ache in Lucius’s heart. Severus had been alone for so long. No witch. No family. No real home. And now he had it all. They both had it all. So then why did Malfoy’s subconscious insist on making a mess of everything?
Lucius turned Snape’s face to his and kissed him, nipping his lower lip the way Severus liked. “I know,” he whispered between bites. “I don’t want to lose this either.”
“Mmmmm . . . We should be doing this out where Hermione can see us.”
“Want to go show her how much we love each other?”
Snape shrugged as if he didn’t care, but a smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth. “I suppose I could do with an encore.”
Mezzo Piano—Moderately soft.
“Put a Little Love in Your Heart” by Jackie DeShannon. Written by DeShannon, Randy Myers (her brother) and Jimmy Holiday and released in 1969.
The song, which message-wise is one of my favorites, has been covered by many artists, and my favorite is probably Al Greene and Annie Lennox. It was also used in the movie Scrooged, and is sung at the end by the whole cast.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=SZqQ9Yijh0M
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=S3J_3mcOwdQ
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