Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 76
- 77
- 78
77—Tempo Rubato 
“It's been written on the scars of our hearts.”—P!nk
(Severus) 
Just before dawn, Severus roused a lethargic Hermione from her sex coma, and the four of them set off for St. Mungo’s under the cover of darkness. Lucius and Draco camped out in the waiting room while Hermione and Severus sneaked up to the second floor, both of them disillusioned to avoid being detected by any nosy medi-staff.
They found Potter and the youngest Weasley huddled together on a faded vinyl bench in the corner of a dark hospital room. The young couple looked as though they hadn’t slept a wink, their eyes hollow and bloodshot, while beside them, an infant fitfully napped in a quarantined bassinet.
The illness had progressed rapidly, just as it had with Narcissa. Most of the baby's skin was already mottled with the foreboding green and purple rash—and with him being so small, there wasn’t a lot to cover.
Severus swallowed thickly and drew back, the stench of sickness all too visceral; James went from being a vague concept to a real person with one whiff. Sweet Salazar! What a nightmare. He didn’t hate Potter enough to wish this kind of misery on him. No man should have to watch his child die.
Harry and Ginny accepted Hermione’s hugs like a pair of mindless Inferi, barely moving or responding. Dead silent. Hermione kept up a brave front, her voice calm and reassuring, but Severus saw the shiny truth of tears standing in her eyes.
Sliding his arm around her shoulders, he braced her against his side. He needed to keep her relaxed and clearheaded so they could explain the plan as succinctly as possible. Time was of the essence. That baby didn’t look as if he had three days left in him. Maybe not even two.
“What are the healers saying?” Hermione asked them quietly. “Anything?”
Potter covered his eyes with one hand, mouth tight. His chin puckered and began to tremble, and Severus had to look away when the first wet tracks appeared from beneath his palm. 
Ginny shook her head blankly. “They’ve given him everything they can. They say there’s nothing more they can do except wait and see. He’s still getting worse.”
"We think we have an answer," Hermione said as she reached for Severus’s hand on her shoulder.
He squeezed her fingers.
Ginny and Harry lifted their heads, a spark of mad hope lighting their haunted eyes.
“But,” Hermione said before they could ask, “it’s incredibly dangerous. And although we both believe it will work, it’s never been tested.”
"What is it?" Harry croaked. “How dangerous?”
Hermione looked to Severus for an appropriate response. Unfortunately, there was no nice way to say what needed to be said. Snape answered to spare her the burden, “He could die.”
“He’s already dying,” Ginny said, her tone flat, but her voice breaking.
Severus inclined his head in reluctant confirmation. “Precisely. If this works, he’ll recover fully; if not—please pardon my bluntness—but the outcome would be the same. Only faster. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain.”
“We do have something to lose!” Harry lashed out, his hand balling to a fist. “Days. My last days with my son. You can’t just take that from us!”
Pained, Severus nodded solemnly, and when he managed to reply, he could scarcely hear himself, “Days of watching him slowly fade. Of watching him suffer. Totally helpless. Is that really how you want to spend your remaining hours with your son?”
Potter sighed and wiped at his stubbled jaw, tipping his head back so he stared at the ceiling. He said nothing. 
Ginny, however, stared intently at Severus, possibly scanning him for deceit. “But you think you have something that will work? Really work. Cure him?”
Severus glanced at Hermione before nodding. “Yes. I believe so.”
Ginny turned to Harry, who was still staring at the ceiling and trying to control his shaky breathing. “I don’t want James to suffer,” she whispered.
Harry pushed his fingers up under his glasses, and his shoulders shook as a torrent of silent sobs wracked his body.
“This might be our only chance,” Ginny pleaded, “assuming it isn’t already too late. If he doesn’t make it, at least he’ll be at peace. But . . . if he does . . .”
Harry let out a shuddering exhale and threw both arms around her, his face hidden in her hair. “I don’t want him to suffer either.”
Ginny rested her head in the crook of his neck, and her tears soaked into his crimson T-shirt until a large dark spot obliterated his entire left shoulder. “Tell us the plan,” Ginny said, not looking at Severus but clearly addressing him. “What do we need to do?”
Severus took a deep breath; the next part would require some finesse. “The potion is extremely powerful—potent enough to destroy every trace of the virus in minutes. But it needs something to keep it from destroying your son.”
Ginny angled her face so she could see him. “Like what?”
Severus forced himself to meet her warm brown eyes, the color so similar to Hermione’s. His mouth went dry, and he licked his lips in a fruitless effort to alleviate the drought. “A blood sacrifice—the protection of a parent giving up their life for their child. The power of unconditional love.”
Harry and Ginny gaped at him in disbelief.
“It’s the only thing strong enough to arrest the damage.”
“One of us has to die?” Ginny breathed.
“Just temporarily,” Hermione clarified quickly, as if it weren’t exactly as horrifying as it sounded. “You’d be revived as soon as the last drops of blood are collected.”
The Potters both stared at them as if they’d lost their minds. Maybe they had.
“I know it sounds disturbing: draining you to death” Hermione went on, wincing at her own words. “But then we can seal the wound and pump you full of Blood-Replenishing Potion, re-start your heart. You’ll feel awful for a bit, but after a few hours you’d be okay. And . . . it might save James.”
Ginny and Harry looked at each other, their faces unreadable, but then, in unison, they both blurted out, “I’ll do it.”
Harry grasped Ginny’s face and held her firmly, shaking his head in denial. "No. You have to stay. If something happens to me, James needs his mother.”
Severus looked away, all too aware of the reason Potter had been denied that basic staple of childhood. He could see Lily in his mind’s eye standing between her baby and certain death, scared out of her mind, but not for herself—for him. A part of Severus had always blamed Harry for that. If it weren’t for him, Lily never would have found herself in such peril. 
But of course that was madness, self-deception masquerading as grief. How could he have ever entertained a delusion so twisted? The Dark Lord had been the cause of her destruction—full stop—not an innocent toddler.
And why in the hell had he ever thought Lily would abandon her baby to save her own skin? Evans’ nerve and bravery were precisely what had captured his heart in the first place. As a child, he’d hoped all that daring would prove invincible, that she would be obstinate enough to buck the system and love a damaged misfit from a broken home.
And she had been strong enough to thumb her nose at the naysayers—until he made it impossible. Until he decided that love didn’t mean as much to him as power. Or anger. Or vengeance.
If only he’d known then that hatred and anger never resulted in satisfaction; they only brought more misery. Love was the only thing in his life that had ever amounted to anything of value. 
And for something so valuable, it seemed strange that it required absolutely no effort. He never had to work to love Hermione or Lucius or Draco. In fact, it was only when he denied how much he loved them that he ran into any problems—problems he could have easily avoided if he just stopped dragging the pain of the past into the present.
His gaze flashed to Potter.
Bloody hell. He was still doing it.
Potter wasn’t the enemy; Severus had made him one out of sheer spite. He’d made his own misery.
Far more disconcerting, though, was that he suddenly felt a strange kinship to the boy. Their similarities were glaring once he dropped the pretense of rivalry. How many people could say they knew what it was like to die—and then return? How many people understood what it was like to sacrifice everything—their hopes and dreams, their future—for the greater good? And how many people knew what it was like to finally, after all that upheaval, find the family you’d been searching for your entire life?
He doubted there were two people in the world who understood each other better.
Severus knew if he were in Potter’s place, he’d be inconsolable. The thought of losing one of his own struck such terror in his heart, his throat closed up just thinking about it. Draco, Hermione, and Lucius were his world; he’d kill to protect them, and he die to save them. No hesitation. And how much worse would it be if the life on the line belonged to a child he’d created with Hermione, a literal embodiment of their love? It would destroy him.
But Severus understood that it wasn’t just a child’s life at stake for Potter; it was the indescribable sense of belonging and “rightness” that came from being part of a love bigger than one’s self. Ginny and James were Harry's home—his heart. They were a part of him.
And part of him was about to be ripped away.
“No, no, no!” Ginny put her hands over Harry’s. “You already died once. You’ve met your quota. I can’t ask you to do it again.”
“I’ve had more practice,” Harry countered. “I should be a pro at it this time. Besides . . . you know I couldn’t watch you die, Ginny. Jesus . . . it would kill me.”
“I trust Hermione and Snape to bring me back. Just pretend I’m—”
“Actually,” Snape interrupted softly, reluctant to reveal the final piece of the puzzle, “it should be Potter.”
Ginny’s head whipped around. “Why!”
“Because he carries the magic of his mother’s love in his veins—it's a bloodline of parental protection. It should make the potion twice as strong. Twice as effective.”
Ginny buried her face in Harry’s neck, her renewed sobs muffled by the column of his throat. He wrapped her in his arms, his expression pained, but having a purpose must have given him some peace, because Severus saw no new tears in his eyes.
Harry nodded resolutely and, looking up, met Snape’s gaze dead on. “I’m ready when you are.”
Tempo Rubato—"free in the presentation" (Italian for "stolen time") is a musical term referring to expressive and rhythmic freedom by a slight speeding up and then slowing down of the tempo of a piece at the discretion of the soloist or the conductor.—Wikipedia

“Just Give Me a Reason” by P!nk featuring Nate Ruess. Written by Pink and Jeff Bhasker. Released in 2013.
“The song attained worldwide success, topping the charts in twenty-one countries including the United States, Austria, Australia, Canada, the Czech Republic, Iceland, Ireland, Lebanon, Italy, Luxembourg, Mexico, Netherlands, New Zealand, Poland, Portugal, Scotland, Slovakia, Sweden, as well as peaking within the top five in more than ten countries as United Kingdom, Belgium, Brazil, Denmark, Finland, France, Israel, Norway, Switzerland and Spain. In the US, it became Pink's fourth number-one single on the Billboard Hot 100.”—Wikipedia
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=OpQFFLBMEPI
- 76
- 77
- 78
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Quartet