Hermione looked at her hands, continually clasping and unclasping them on the table in front of her. The skin around her fingernails was frayed and irritated, flushed an ugly pink from her continual nervous picking. She idly wondered why she never painted her nails; admiring it on other women, but rarely doing it herself. Perhaps she should pamper herself more often. Is nail polish healthy? All those chemicals on her skin couldn't be good in the long term. Did nails count as skin?

In times of great stress, Hermione liked to busy her mind with less emergent thoughts. Thinking about the properties of gillyweed and hemlock was a good way to stabilize panic in combat. This habit proved useful while she avoided the gazes of the three men sitting at the table in front of her.

The silence hung in the air, thick and tense. Hermione's upper back and shoulders were taut under her pale pink cardigan. Usually, the way the soft cashmere clung to her slender frame lent her comfort, but tonight it felt suffocating. The quiet felt solid in her throat and lungs, filling her up until she felt she might burst. All of the noise she held in would pour off of her tongue in a nonsensical torrent. She wrung her hands and bit at her lips in an attempt to keep calm.

"Hermione." Remus' calm voice rung out in the kitchen and cut through the hush. Even his smooth, deep tone seemed severe in contrast. He leant closer, letting his hand rest over hers and willing his serenity to permeate her pores and rise through her fingers. Hermione's eyes were locked on his rough hands.

She quietly slipped her hand out from under his and it retreated to her lap. His disappointment was audible.

"I don't understand how or why you didn't tell me." She spoke to her lap; unsure whether she was unwilling or unable to meet the eyes of her roommates.

"We don't fully understand it either, love." Sirius scrubbed a hand over his face, the exhaustion apparent in the deep folds under his dark eyes. His arms were crossed over his chest, presenting his tattoos proudly and providing a protective barrier between himself and the intimacy of their situation. The quiet scuff of his hand rubbing against his stubble soothed Hermione's nerves slightly.

"How long have you all known?" She still refused to look up. She heard their discomfort in the shifting of their shoes against the floor and the creaking of their aged chair frames.

"I became curious after we had been living together for a few weeks." Remus responded. "We have always been close," he sent a small smile her way, but she did not see it, "but I recognized a deeper connection to you that I had never noticed before. I felt it deep inside of me, and the wolf is passionate about you in a way that he never has been before." His voice dropped into a gruff bass tone at the mention of the wolf, and Hermione felt her thighs shiver under her thin floral skirt. She grimaced and crossed her ankles.

"I shared my concerns with Sirius after that morning in the kitchen. I'm sure you remember the numerous amorous incidents between you and Sirius and I. He and I decided to research mates and bonds, digging through the Black family library for any reasonable explanations for the phenomena. The theory of mates was the first crossed off, as I would have been enraged by Sirius' pursuit of you." Hermione nodded to herself in silent agreement. She could feel all three of them looking at her. Remus took in a deep breath in preparation for his length explanation.

"Merlin's balls, Lupin, could you do this any slower?" Draco groaned, rubbing the itching lines of his healed wounds with a bruised hand.

Remus bristled and opened his mouth to retort, but Hermione raised a hand to silence him. She met Draco's eyes with cool defiance.

"Want to tell it faster, ferret?" His responding grin was razor sharp.

"Gladly." He reached over to grasp the slim neck of the firewhiskey bottle, tipping it to pour amber liquid into his tumbler. The three matching glasses sat unused around the table. "You're stuck with us." He tilted his head back and the liquor slid from the glass into his mouth.

Hermione and Remus stiffened and Sirius let his head fall back with a frustrated groan. "You really had to phrase it like that, Draco?" Sirius glared, aggravated by the waves of discomfort that he could feel rolling off of Hermione.

Remus reached for Hermione's hand again, but reconsidered and withdrew before making contact. "You're not stuck with us, Hermione. We're um…" He looked to Sirius for confirmation.

"We're yours, and you're ours." Sirius took the bottle from Draco and took a deep pull, forgoing the glass completely.

"What does that mean?" Hermione growled, "I don't understand how this happened or what any of this means. What happened with the dreams? Why aren't either of you bothered that I was unfaithful? Why was I unfaithful in the first place? I don't understand what is happening us and if you don't explain it, I will leave!" Hermione clutched her glass tightly to keep her fingers from shaking. Her free hand was fisted tightly and she felt her nails dig into the skin of her palm.

"We don't fully understand it either, love." Sirius kept a few fingers loosely hung around the neck of his bottle. "All we know is that old pureblood families have a history of bonds created from life debts. We believe that these bonds were created as a way to transfer belongings and fortunes to non-blood relatives during times of infertility and conflict. Moony and I," he motioned to Remus with a lazy hand motion, "experienced it for the first time during the initial rise of Voldemort. I was injured during an Order raid and Remus put himself in front of a cutting curse for me. It easily would have ended me." Sirius took another swig of the whiskey. "We didn't notice it at the time, but we noticed the way we felt more calm in each others' presence in an entirely unfamiliar way." Remus and Sirius exchanged a meaningful look.

Sirius cleared his throat. "So obviously, Remus and my bond is different from yours with us. We have never had a relationship further than familial. Clearly, the bond we share with you is quite different." Remus nodded.

"We believe that your and my bond," Sirius asserted, "was established either when you rescued me from the dementors in your third year, or when you pulled me from the veil a few years ago. We aren't sure when your bond was created with Remus, or whether it is dependent on my bond with him. It's hard to understand how this all works because we're not sure when this all started."

Hermione paused thoughtfully. "I know when it started." She said quietly. Remus and Sirius perked up.

"I saved Remus during the Final Battle." Hermione muttered.

"What?" He shook his head in objection. "I don't remember seeing you until the end?" His eyes were full of confusion.

"You were mourning Tonks," she paused respectfully, "and your back was turned. Antonin Dolohov had woken from your stunning spell and snuck up behind you. He was about to cast a spell," she cleared her throat, "and so I cast first." She met his eyes firmly, content with her decision.

"You killed Dolohov?" Remus swallowed thickly. Sirius and Draco were watching Hermione carefully. They hadn't known that the Gryffindor Princess had taken a life.

Hermione nodded and responded softly. "I did."

The four of them sat in silence for a few moments, before Sirius chimed in.

"I killed a person last week." He took another pull from the whiskey bottle before Remus snatched it from him.

Draco grabbed it from Remus, wiped the mouth, and took a sip. "I killed two people last week." He nodded neutrally to Hermione, sardonic but firm in his solidarity.

Remus groaned and rubbed his face. He took the bottle back from Draco and took an enormous drink. Sirius winked at Hermione across the table and she fought a relieved smile.

"We've been bonded since the end of the war as well." Draco nodded to her. Sirius and Remus looked between the two curiously. "At Malfoy Manor." She nodded in understanding and looked back down at her hands.

"What the bloody hell were you doing at Malfoy Manor?" Sirius growled, his eyes darkening at the thought of Hermione being forced to visit the reviled former home of the Dark Lord. His fists were clenched on the table. He was clearly remembering the scars that littered her skin and imagining all sorts of scenarios that could create them. Remus was silent, but rigid as well. The wolf was clearly anxious and riled.

"I, um." Hermione couldn't meet their concerned eyes. She looked to Draco instead.

"It's okay, Granger. They can handle it." He nodded to her calmly, and let his hand come up to brush a curl behind her ear. Hermione smiled gently at him and steeled her resolve. Her caution did little to soothe Remus and Sirius' nerves.

"Harry, Ron and I were captured by snatchers during the war." Remus and Sirius' looks darkened further. "I successfully kept them from identifying Harry with a stinging spell, but Draco saved us all by refusing to confirm his identity." Hermione nodded as if the story was finished, but it was clear that there was more to it.

"What happened after that? It's not as if they would let you go, surely some of them would be able to identify you and Weasley." Sirius crossed his arms, glaring at her for postponing her answer.

"You don't have to share if you don't want to." Remus jumped in, instinctively reaching for her hand again. He quickly realized his mistake and went to pull back, but she let her fingers curl around his cautiously.

"Bellatrix was there." Hermione kept her eyes fixed on their intertwined fingers. She could sense the tension that poured off of Remus and Sirius across the table. "She locked Harry and Ron in the basement and tortured me, certain that we had stolen the Sword of Gryffindor from her. Harry found it in the woods late one night, but Snape had placed a copy in her vault and she believed that we had somehow broken in and stolen it.

"We realized that another horcruxe must be in her vault because of her level of panic, and so we broke into her vault after we escaped and were able to destroy another piece of Voldemort's soul." It was clear that Sirius and Remus wanted more details regarding her safety, but they understood that while their questioning may assuage their fears, it would do little to comfort Hermione herself.

"Do we know why the bonds are exclusive yet different between all of us?" Draco interjected, eager to change the subject and give Hermione relief. "I saved Potter and Weasley's lives as well, but I'm not panting for some cock or anything." His grin was dark and amused, but hid a deeper level of concern. "I also don't feel a connection to either of the two of you. We feel like family, but I think that's more from the actual close relationship we've grown over the years and not some magical fairy bond."

Remus cleared his throat at his language, but Sirius barked a chuffed laugh.

"We believe that there needs to be a deep connection or attraction between the parties for the bond to take hold. We've also observed that the bonds solidify and strengthen with prolonged proximity." Remus nodded to Hermione. "We were all able to tolerate your relationship with Weasley for several years, so we believe that the bond is reliant on intentions and emotions. The first few weeks you lived with us, our bond was mostly familial and affectionate, but it grew…" Remus cleared his throat and a rose flush crawled up his neck, "…more romantic over time."

Hermione flushed darkly, looking up hesitantly and found herself locked into Sirius' dark and determined gaze. She coughed slightly and looked towards Draco, feeling the butterflies in her stomach drop lower at his comparably dark and steely eyes. She caught a glimpse of Remus' eyes flickering between blue and amber, before settling on the safe sight of the table.

An awkward silence settled between them once more, broken by Draco setting his glass down hard on the weathered wood.

"Well, I'm not fucking any blokes."


In the week following Hermione's discovery, she had seldom seen her housemates. She could feel them lingering nearby, eager to give her any aid in adjusting, but also understanding that Hermione needed time to think in solitude. She idly considered their sensitivity and understanding of her needs, and appreciated them immensely.

Hermione woke late on Saturday morning, exhausted from her late night at work the day before. She quietly padded down the stairs, carefully avoiding the creaky step. She paused in her descent; interested by the low singing she could hear.

"Why do you build me up, buttercup baby, just to let me down? And mess me around, oh, and worst of all. You never call me back when you say you will. But I love you still!"

Hermione peaked into the kitchen and was thoroughly amused to see a shirtless Draco Malfoy dancing barefoot in the kitchen. He kept his singing quiet and his dancing subtle, merely shifting his weight from foot to foot with the slight sway of his hips. While considered discreet by most people's standards, on him, it was absolutely alien. However odd the situation in Hermione's perspective, she mused, he seemed awfully comfortable on his feet, and his singing wasn't half bad.

Her humor was slightly dampened by lust, as she took her time to admire the strong planes of his broad back and shoulders. The jagged scars from his attack stretched across his skin, but their angry redness had faded. She felt a strong desire to feel their roughness against her tongue.

She coughed in surprise at her last thought, unwittingly giving away her presence. Draco froze, mid-step, turning to her sharply. His cold eyes locked on her; her hair was tossed from sleep, soft cotton shorts and top rumpled.

Hermione couldn't pull her eyes away, frozen in the blonde's firm gaze. He quietly set the spatula aside and his large fingers circled her pale wrist. He gave a slight tug, and she drifted into his arms. His rough hands slid underneath her light top, completely enveloping her hips and pulling her closer, until his hardness prodded her stomach gently. He turned her, such that her back was against the wall, and slowly dropped his head down until his lips caught hers in a soft, but far from innocent, morning kiss.

Their lips moved with the synchronicity of long time lovers, and she felt an old piece of her click into place. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, letting her fingers splay across his smooth skin. He growled softly when she grazed his skin with her nails, and he slid his hands down to grip her curvy bottom. He lifted her quickly, smirking at the surprised squeak that escaped her. She wrapped her legs around his waist automatically, rubbing her hips against him and he rubbed harder into her center in response.

He moved them quickly from the kitchen, stopping briefly while she kissed down his neck to turn off the burner of the stove. He strode quickly into the parlor, dropping her on the couch and giving her a dark grin when she looked up at him in confusion. He leant down to rip off her shorts, falling to his knees and tugging her to the edge of the sofa.

"Wait, what are yo- OH MY GOD, MALFOY!" Her question was quickly forgotten at the first teasing swipe of Draco's tongue across Hermione's clit. She cried out in shock, her back arching sharply off the couch and Draco had to band his arm across her hips, tossing one of her legs over each shoulder and holding her down firmly. He softly licked circles around her center, stopping to pull away for a moment every so often, and keeping Hermione's body electrified. He smirked to himself at her loss of composure, enjoying her body and responses immensely.

He slipped one arm free from her legs, moving down to slip a finger inside her soaked slit. He thrust deep, moving back to bite deeply into her inner thigh and he laughed at her strangled scream. Satisfied with the dark red mark, he slipped another finger deep within her and pumped deeply, taking her clit back into his mouth once again.

Feeling her coming close to the finish, he slowed down to let her hover at the limit and reached up underneath her shirt to caress her peaked nipples. Hermione was lost in the trio of sensations, flushed and moaning as Draco drove her further and further towards relief. She let out several frustrated moans and mewls and flexed against his firm hold, but he gave her bottom a firm slap and tugged her hair teasingly.

"You piece of shit, Malfoooooy!" Hermione cried in relief, finally tumbling over the edge when he simultaneously sucked her clit hard into his mouth and pressed insistently on her g-spot.

Hermione laid there for a few moments, struggling to regain her senses, while Draco rubbed her stomach soothingly. He smirked as her dark eyelashes lifted to reveal sleepy honey brown eyes, and he squeezed her thigh smugly.

"Morning, Granger." He grinned, then smoothly stood and returned to cooking his breakfast.

Hermione's head dropped back onto the couch with a quiet thud, and she stared up at the ceiling, exhausted.


Sorry that this update took so long, but I've been working hard in school. New chapter soon to follow, I promise!