How am I the last one to know?!” Harry looked as if he was a heartbeat away from either blasting his way through Malfoy Manor or crying.
Theodore Nott sighed, sharing a glance with his cousin. Pansy blinked rapidly to hide the roll of her eyes, but her husband nudged her anyway.
“I thought you knew!” Hermione threw her hands up, and Harry slumped back into his seat, defeated. “Draco knew from practically the beginning, and I know he immediately told these two.” Hermione gestured at Theo and Pansy. “I assumed they told both of you! Neville didn’t exactly act surprised when Draco came in to berate me for leaving them!”
Neville nodded, looking slightly ashamed and caught Pansy’s elbow in his ribs. Harry’s mouth worked like a fish, before sputtering, “you left them and then went back!?” He turned his incredulous expression to his beau, who shrugged.
“You were there when we discussed it. I thought if you wanted to discuss it, you would bring it up.”
Harry just blinked at Theo, who shrugged again.
Hermione turned her attention to the dog in her lap, who seemed perfectly content, her tail wagging slightly, with her chin resting on Hermione’s knee so her owners were visible. Hermione hadn’t thought Pansy was the dog type, but she doted on the small spaniel. Neville likewise adored Ivy, but that was less surprising.
“You really think I would know Hermione was sleeping with not just Severus but Lucius Malfoy AT THE SAME TIME and not bring it up?!”
Heat flooded her face, and she sunk into the armchair, wishing Neville’s floor would open and swallow her whole.
“As if you can talk, Potter,” Pansy snapped. “You didn’t mind being the centre of a Theo and Draco sandwich but you don’t hear us whining!”
Hermione’s jaw dropped, and her head snapped up, finding Harry looking guilty and Neville the shade of the Gryffindor scarf hanging in the hall behind him. At least that solved the mystery of them magically getting along. Apparently using sex to win one over was yet another trait Draco shared with Lucius, but not something she wanted to dwell on.
“That was one time,” Harry objected weakly, and Neville shot to his feet, mumbling about drinks and disappearing down the hall. Ivy’s head perked up, and took off after him, using Hermione as a springboard.
“One time that left you mad as hell when Dray turned us down for another after getting with Brown,” Theo shot back, and Harry sank back into his seat, cheeks pink.
“Now that we’re done judging Hermione for her perfectly reasonable choices, maybe we should focus on how to keep Severus and Lucius from attempting to murder another ministry official and robbing her of good sex while they rot in Azkaban, hmm?” Pansy arched an eyebrow at Harry, but he stayed silent, oozing petulance.
“The knobhead has nothing,” Theo said, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. Pansy glared daggers at him, but he ignored her. “Olgivy sees it as the old boys’ club. She’s young, she’s female, and she’s powerful. He’s threatened and throwing shite to see what will stick. Her privacy is hers, but people will question if you’re trying to hide something more than just a relationship.”
Pansy sat back, arms crossed and thoughtful.
“If Lucius even wants to see me, after being dragged into the ministry in chains,” Hermione said softly, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m not worried about Severus, but Lucius…”
“Lucius is harder to dissuade than that,” Theo reassured her, and Harry narrowed his eyes at him. “What? The man’s practically my second father. He knows what he wants and nothing stands in his way.”
Hermione leaned forward, bracing her elbows on her knees and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes to disguise her tears. He’d taken ages to come around after she’d foolishly left him. He’d been angry and embarrassed and she couldn’t see how this would be any different. If anything, this humiliation was public and would keep him at a distance.
Neville returned with drinks, bottles of wine and a decanter of whiskey that only Theo and Pansy reached for. He passed hermione a glass, and she turned the glass of ruby liquid in her hands. It only served to remind her of Lucius and the first night they’d shared. He’d dipped his long fingers in his glass, tracing pink shapes across her skin that he’d followed with his tongue.
The others continued talking around her, but she just stared into the depths of the wine, heart aching.
It was late before Harry dragged Theo through the floo, and Pansy had pried the glass from her hands, ushering her up the stairs to their spare room.
As she laid in the unfamiliar bed, she could hear Neville’s footsteps as he let Ivy out and then methodically checked each door before retiring. When the house was silent, she cried silently into the pillow, wondering if it was too late to seek solace in Severus’s arms. But if she was being honest… It wasn’t Severus she needed.
Severus was sharp edges and the depth of the night. He was whiskey and rosemary, restraint and the crack of a whip. He would give her answers and urge her to act. He would plot and plan until her head spun, as Harry, Theo, and Pansy had all night.
Lucius was the bright light of midday. He was silk and satin, indulgence and extravagance in the simplest things. And she wanted nothing more than to curl in his lap as he read a book, the ends of his hair fluttering across her face, his aristocratic fingers caressing her skin as he let her simply be.
She fell asleep on a pillow damp with her tears, wondering if Lucius would ever forgive her.