"OH come on Mione, Are You Being Served is on."
"Damn it Sirius, pay attention this is important."
Remus, sensing that the proverbial hackles on their young witch were on the rise, tried to ward off the fight before it began. He reached over and flipped off the telly, his shaggy hair framing his face he smiled up at Hermione. "We're listening Love, what do you need?"
Hermione drew a small stack of index cards from her pocket and sat down on the loveseat opposite the two wizards. "Practice" She stated firmly, in the no nonsense tone she usually got when they've done, or are about to do, something stupid.
"Practice? Practice what?" Sirius asked.
"We're going to my parents tonight for dinner," she began "and not only are they only expecting one boyfriend, they are certainly NOT expecting me to have shacked up with two men old enough to be my…my…"
"Incredibly handsome older brother?" Sirius quipped with a smirk.
"Professor?" Remus finished with a wicked grin.
Hermione growled at them. "Are you two going to be serious?"
Sirius grinned, "No, I'm going to be Sirius, and He's going to be Remus. You can be Hermione if you want to, otherwise I've always been partial to the name Wanda."
Completely and utterly exasperated with the two wizards, who she knew in her heart were only trying to make her smile Hermione began to beat her head against the wall behind her.
"Peace love," Remus said crossing the room to sit beside her. He placed his hand between her head and the wall keeping her from releasing the tension she was feeling in a way that didn't involve screaming at the top of her lungs. "You don't need to do this. You know everything will be fine. We love you; they love you. It will all end up right in the end. I know this whole thing will be quite a shock to them, but we'll be right there with you and they will realise that you've made the best decision for you."
Sirius pushed off the couch and crossed over to kneel before her; gathering her in his arms he smiled. "Come now, Wanda- lets go to bed and relax a bit before we have to get ready."
Hermione looked deep into the grey eyes of the dark haired man before her and a smile lit up her face as she let him lead her to the bedroom.
Much later, Hermione was trying, unsuccessfully, not to wear a track in their floor as she waited for the boys to get ready.
"Hurry Up!" She yelled for the umpteenth time.
"We're almost done," Sirius's voice wafted out of the bathroom. "You really can't rush perfection you know."
Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she surveyed the men before her. The outfit Sirius was garbed in was a pair of black trousers that fit like a second skin. Hermione hadn't even known you could get linen that tight. His jacket was black raw silk shot through with treads of a deep cerulean blue, that matched his collarless silk shirt. Remus was dressed all in browns and golds, linen pants the color of peat and twin to Sirius's in cut, a matching jacket shot through with gold thread and a soft gold silk shirt. In short the two men standing before her looked good enough to eat. Hermione smoothed down the dress Sirius had chosen for her; the deep vee of the neckline seemed to offer her breasts up as sacrifices to their hungry eyes. The velvet dress was a dark blue to match the shirt Sirius was wearing, patterned with golden embroidery to match Remus. They were perfect. The fact that they had gone to so much trouble to impress her parents made her heart rise and beat a little faster, even if it did nothing to quell the rising panic, that they had tried so hard to suppress all day.
"So milady do we pass muster?" Sirius asked her.
"You both look perfect." She replied smiling at them "I suppose we should get going."
They left the Apparition point near her parents' house and walked quietly down the street.
"You know, I've changed my mind, we really don't have to go." Hermione said stopping dead in her tracks as the house came into view.
"Yes, yes we do." Remus said smiling at her and wrapping his arm around her waist. "Now stop dithering like a first year Hufflepuff and summon that vaunted Gryffindor courage and lets go."
Her eyes flashed, and she snorted at him "A first year Hufflepuff? Ouch, that hurts."
He smiled back at her serenely, "Whatever works to get you to open the door."
Steeling her courage she opened the door and called out to her parents.
"We're in the den, Mione!" Her mother's voice wafted through to them in the vestibule. Hermione led the two men to the den, stopping outside the ornate French doors that closed the room off from the rest of the house.
"Wait here," She whispered to them before opening the doors just enough for her to squeeze through.
"Hermione, my dear, it's so good to see you!" Her father said crossing the room to envelop her in a warm hug.
"So where is this boyfriend we've heard nothing about?" Her mother inquired. "And since when do I have to find out you are seeing someone from Molly Weasley?"
"I'm sorry mum," Hermione replied. "I really wasn't sure how to tell you."
"What exactly is there to say? 'Mom, Dad, I've met this great guy.' Would have worked just fine." Jane Granger retorted.
"Ok then. Mom, Dad, I've met these great guys." She crossed the room and opened the French doors; she turned her back avoiding seeing the shock on her parent's faces. "I'd like you to meet Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, my boyfriends."
Hermione turned back quickly, when she heard the sharp gasp and a large THUMP of her mother's, now unconscious body hitting the floor.
As they all were seated around the dinner table, a very concerned Remus asked, "Are you feeling better, Dr. Granger?"
"Oh yes, thank you, Mr. Lupin, just a dizzy spell. It happens from time to time."
"Please call me Remus."
"Remus, yes well…" she began, "What do you do for a living?"
Hermione was beginning to feel as if they should have practiced some more. Not that she thought anything would really help her now.
Remus took a deep breath and replied, "I used to teach, now I do odd jobs when I can, and favors, of course, for friends."
Hermione could see the wheels turning behind her mother's eyes, and suddenly it clicked.
"Didn't you teach at Hogwarts? I distinctly recall Hermione raving about a Defense teacher named Lupin."
"Yes, she was referring to me. I taught Defense against the Dark Arts in Hermione's third year."
"Exactly how old are you, Remus?" her father asked softly.
"I'll be 45 this September."
At that point, only the fact that both boys had grabbed her hands kept Hermione from bolting from the room, as her father's mouth gaped open. John Granger recovered himself with a shake of his head.
"And you, Mr. Black…"
"Sirius."
"Yes of course, and you Sirius, what do you do?"
Hermione could see his eyes sparkle with mischievous intent, as he opened his mouth to respond.
"I used to be an Auror but since my return from the Veil, I've mostly been living off my inheritance from my parents."
For one brief moment Hermione sighed in relief, she was shocked but quite happy with Sirius' restraint. That is of course, until her mother made the second connection of the evening. Hermione watched with a sinking heart as her mother's face drained of all color, again.
"You're THAT Sirius Black?" she squeaked.
Sirius smiled, Remus rolled his eyes, and Hermione groaned. "Yes Ma'am" was his reply.
"Well Hermione, you certainly know how to surprise us."
"How's that, mum?" Hermione answered, trying not to flinch at the icy cold tone in her mother's voice.
"Your former professor, and your best friend's godfather?"
"I do believe this is the very first time in my life that I wish you had not listened quite so closely to what I've said," Hermione mumbled.
"I'm sure you do," her mother retorted before addressing the rest of the table.
"Gentlemen, if you would follow John into the den, Hermione and I will join you with desert and coffee."
Knowing there was nothing they could do, the boys gave Hermione's hands one final squeeze of support before trailing out of the room after her father. Hermione stood from the table, squared her shoulders as if preparing for battle and followed her mother into the kitchen.
"Have you gone completely mental?" when Hermione started to reply, she continued, "Don't answer that! What in the name of everything holy were you thinking? To date two men, who are old enough to be your father…a werewolf and an ex-convict? How could you ever think this was right? It's bad enough the men you've chosen are so much older than you, but to have to date two men at the same time. There are no words for what I feel right now Hermione, none at all."
"What is right mum? Explain to me, what I'm supposed to do? I love them."
"How can you? I don't understand it; I just can't understand how you can love two different men in the same way. How you could want to be with them together? Can't you just figure out which one you care for more and choose?"
"I don't want to choose, Mum. Moreover, I don't need to choose. They love me, and I love both of them. If we are happy with it then what is wrong? I know it seems odd to you, and is hard to grasp but this makes me happy; they make me happy. Can you not just be glad that I found them?"
"How can you love them both the same way? Is there not some difference, some small way in which you love one more than the other? Something that is missing in your relationship with one that the other is used to fill?"
It struck Hermione as somewhat funny that her mother had quoted almost verbatim all the usual questions people had about Polyandry. The same questions she had once asked Pavarti one night in the Gryffindor common room after several glasses of Firewhiskey and giggling girlish confidences.
"Well, to be completely honest, no. Years ago, while I was in school I asked that exact question to a friend of mine who was in love with and eventually married two year-mates of mine. She gave me the best explanation I've ever heard."
"Fine then, explain it to me," Jane said.
"The Greeks once divided love up into many different divisions, C.S Lewis even touched on it once. Agape, is the first type of love. In Ancient Greek it generally refers to a 'pure', ideal type of love. It has also been translated as 'love of the soul'." Hermione began ticking off the words on her fingers. "The second type is Eros, passionate love, with sensual desire and longing. Although Eros is initially felt for a person, with contemplation, it becomes an appreciation of the beauty within that person, or even becomes appreciation of beauty itself. Eros helps the soul recall knowledge of beauty, and contributes to an understanding of spiritual truth. Lovers and philosophers are all inspired to seek truth by Eros. Some translations list it as 'love of the body'. The third type is Philia, which means friendship in Modern Greek, a dispassionate virtuous love. It includes loyalty to friends, family, and community, and requires virtue, equality and familiarity. Next comes Storage, which means affection in Modern Greek; it is natural affection, like that felt by parents for offspring or vice versa. Ludos is the kind of love that is playful and fun, and Maritos is the love of a woman or a man toward the partner they want to spend the rest of their life with, like you have with dad. I love them both with Eros and Maritos, as well as with Philia and Ludos. I cannot choose between them as they cannot choose between the other and me. Loving both of them does not diminish my love for either one. In fact, it actually increases my capacity to love and appreciate them, because love is the one thing in the whole universe that, the more you feel, the more you express, and the more you give, the more you have to feel, and express, and give. What we have together is different, I know, but it is good and pure. There is something that is so right about being with them. I have loved them for so long, and like you, I once thought I would either have to choose between them or live without them forever. I am lucky, because that is not my fate. We can all be together the way we want to be and it is all right and accepted in our society, even if it is viewed as strange by yours. I hope you can find it in your heart to understand that."
Jane listened intently to her daughters' impassioned speech. If she was to be completely honest with herself, the words meant very little to the change she felt in her heart. It was the look of pure joy and love shining in her daughters eyes as she continued to talk about the two men she loved that made the cold feeling that had settled over her, since she had woken up from her shocked faint, begin to melt away.