A/N:Thank you as always to the lovely WordsmithMusings for alphabeting!
*Please note this chapter contains adult content*
Enjoy!
Chapter Eight:
The next morning passed in an easy rhythm. Hermione found herself at the desk again, Sirius and Draco on either side of her.
The sound of the mail flap on the door trailed in from the hall, and together they stood to retrieve it. Draco received a small letter from his mother and another from Gringotts. There was also a note from Harry, his scrawl instantly familiar to Hermione. Kingsley had agreed to let them go to Hogwarts, but only after curfew. McGonagall had been told of the situation—much to Kingsley's chagrin—and would open her Floo for them.
They returned to their previous occupations, Hermione tittering with excitement. She hadn't seen the library since graduating, and she couldn't wait to run her fingers along the familiar spines of those books.
Draco read the letter over from his mother before the one from Gringotts. "They'll be delivering the painting I selected for your stairwell shortly."
"How are you keeping this from your mother?" Hermione asked. "Wouldn't she know you just randomly took a painting from the vaults?"
Draco furrowed his brow. "No. When my father was given a life sentence to Azkaban, his accounts were transferred to his heir, me. My mother no longer has access to the Malfoy vaults anymore."
"Your father never merged their vaults?" Hermione scoffed. "So typical. Of course not; it's not her money, right?"
Draco's sharp gaze cut through her. "My mother never wants for anything, Granger. She has her own account, and I give her a monthly allowance. If she needs more than that, she only need ask me. I don't deny her anything."
"How noble of you," Hermione muttered, wrinkling her nose at Draco as he summoned a writing desk before she turned her attention to Sirius. He was paying neither of them any mind, a forgotten cigarette burning in the dish beside him. His eyes scanned pages of the book in his hand, but Hermione couldn't see the front cover.
She read the backside, and her stomach dropped.
"Sirius," Hermione grimaced. "Why are you reading The Duke and I?"
Sirius was finally pulled from his reading, his dark grey eyes filled with mischievous merriment. Hermione could already feel the judgement rolling off of him as his lips split into a grin.
"Draco loaned it to me," Sirius said simply, finally taking a drag from his half-snuffed cigarette. "I find I quite like it."
Hermione clenched the quill in her hand, the spine of the feather bending beneath her grip. She returned to her list and forcibly tried to ignore the fact that both Sirius Black and Draco Malfoy had read smut. Smut that she liked. That they knew she liked.
"What part are you on?" Draco asked, his quill scratching loudly against the parchment. Hermione assumed it would be obvious to anyone with a proper education not to press the tip quite so hard to—
"Simon just enjoyed Daphne ala mode atop a library ladder," Sirius paused, and Hermione wanted to sink into the floor. "It's a shame we don't have any here."
Hermione's quill snapped clean in half, her heart leaping into her throat at the images that came to mind. Her eyes snapped to Sirius, only to find him grinning wide into his book. Across from him, Draco smirked as his quill continued its infuriating scratch.
"Will you stop that!" Hermione lashed out at Draco. "Pick up your quill properly, or don't write at all!"
"At least I don't snap mine in half while having perverted thoughts." Draco bit back, his smirk widening. Hermione opened her mouth to deny it, but he cut her off. "It was written all over your face, Granger. We could see it."
Sirius snuffed out his cigarette and leant forward. "Are you sure you aren't mad that we've both read this book, kitten?"
"I couldn't care less what the two of you read!" Hermione half-shouted.
They both laughed at her, and Draco reached over. His fingers grazed her temple, trailing down her cheekbone and tracing the shell of her ear to tuck a strand of hair behind it. "I doubt that very much, Granger."
They returned to their tasks as if nothing had happened. Hermione sat stunned for a moment before dazedly grabbing a new quill. Her mind raced to process and compartmentalise. These two were making it difficult to breathe, let alone think. It was an odd sensation for Hermione; she'd always had her thoughts about her—mostly. She did have her moments, but Sirius and Draco always knew what to do to make her brain fuzzy.
A knock sounded at the door, and Hermione jumped. Draco waved his hand at the floating desk to make it move and stood. Sirius and Hermione followed, the three of them lumbering to the front door.
Draco opened it, keeping it cracked enough to allow Hermione and Sirius to be hidden.
"Draco Malfoy?" The goblin greeted. "Wand, please."
Draco hesitated a moment before handing the wand over. The goblin inspected the wand before being satisfied with his identity. "Sign, please."
A quick—infuriating—scratch of a quill sounded before a wrapped parcel floated into the hall, and Draco shut the door.
"There, see," Draco said breathlessly. It was obvious he'd been nervous. "Let's hang it."
The parcel floated to the stairs, the trio trailing behind.
"And what painting did you bring me?" Sirius asked.
The wrappings unfurled, brown paper falling to the floor. It revealed a woman dressed in Renaissance-style clothes as she leant against a tree, wildflowers in her hand. They stuck from all angles out of her hair, giving her a wild appearance, yet her dress and beauty suggested she was a lady of standing.
"Ophelia," Draco said as it hung in place, covering the dust marks from Walburga's portrait.
"It's not enchanted?" Sirius asked, staring at the painting.
"It's muggle?" Hermione speculated, noting in astonishment that the picture didn't move.
"It was painted by John William Waterhouse in 1910. A lover of magic and myth." Draco said. "But a muggle. His style is Romanticism, but in a different way-like he knew what love was."
"Why do you say that?" Sirius asked.
"His paintings are very..." Draco trailed off, thinking of the words as he stared at the painted woman. "In 1889 he finished another painting titled Ophelia, his first Ophelia. It showed a woman lying in a meadow, hair wildly spread around her. Every painting after that showed her features. No one knows who his model was, but they worked together for thirty years.
"Over time, you can see his regard for her change. At the beginning, she wears little clothes, sometimes partially naked, a seductress drawing you in. But when he painted this, she becomes a lady. Always finely dressed, no longer looking to seduce, but to someone of dignity. He completely changed his style for her."
Hermione stared at Draco in awe as he realised where he was. He cleared his throat as a faint blush stained his cheeks.
"Interesting," Sirius quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And have you ever been in love, Malfoy?"
Draco clenched his jaw. "No."
Sirius hummed as if he didn't believe him. Hermione paid them no mind as they began to squabble; her eyes focused on the portrait before her. Art wasn't her forte, but she could appreciate it.
Romantic. Hermione could see it, perhaps, the soft brush strokes, the expression on the woman's face. The longer she stared into her eyes, the more Hermione felt the stirring of something else. Intimate knowledge—a sharing of private information.
"Do you like it?" Draco whispered into her ear.
Hermione jumped. She'd been so lost in figuring the painting out she hadn't realised Sirius and Draco waited for her.
"It's—very nice," Hermione coloured and trudged back down the stairs. Her stomach fluttered as Sirius and Draco shared secret grins despite the fact they'd just been fighting.
Something told her Hogwarts was going to be a disaster.
"Are you all ready?" Harry asked that night as they all stood in the living room. Hermione nodded. "Good, this is going to be quick. First, we'll—"
"Harry," Hermione interrupted. "I know what we're doing. You left detailed instructions in your letter, which were very good, by the way. Well done."
Harry scowled, and Hermione laughed. "Stop worrying so much. It'll be fine."
"Only a rule breaker when it suits you," Harry muttered.
"It's already after curfew," Draco supplied.
Sirius nodded, "And we'll have the invisibility cloak. That saved us from a world of trouble when we were kids."
Harry's scowl only deepened as he glanced between all their faces. "You three together are trouble."
He turned to open the Floo, and Hermione, Sirius, and Draco laughed. To Hermione's surprise, their bond wasn't such a weight today. Instead, it felt friendly and light. As if Wlwalls were being torn down between them all.
He held out the powder to them, and together they climbed into the widened hearth, disappearing in green flames. Harry dropped in just after them.
The Headmistress's office was just as Hermione remembered; McGonagall had kept up the tradition of keeping out sweets, and the nearby silver bowl was filled with Jelly Slugs. Their translucent bodies wiggled around. Hermione wrinkled her nose.
"They're not terrible once you get past the wiggling." McGonagall's familiar Scottish accent sounded beside them. Hermione turned and was pulled into a crushing hug from the Headmistress. She and McGonagall had kept in touch since she graduated, but it had been a long time since they last saw each other.
The bonds on Hermione's wrist yanked back as McGonagall pulled her, the glowing blue light illuminating the corner of the office. McGonagall blinked and bent over to inspect them. "Harry and Kingsley had told me what had happened but to see it in person. Oh, Hermione. What have you got yourself into now?"
Hermione refrained from answering her question, and McGonagall's eyes trailed up the rope to Sirius.
"Hello, Minnie," Sirius grinned.
"Sirius Black, well." McGonagall's voice sounded thick, as if she was holding back tears. "It is so good to see you."
"You know just what to say to butter me up," Sirius pulled her into a tight hug.
Hermione, Draco, and Harry all stood slack-jawed at the way Sirius treated McGonagall—and the fact that she let him do it.
McGonagall pulled from the hug and cleared her throat, a slight blush tinging her cheeks as she smoothed her robes. "Well. I'm glad to see you haven't changed at all, Mr Black."
The clock at the front of the office chimed ten times, the deep reverberating echo of a bell vibrated the room, ending the spell they'd all seemingly fallen under. Harry rushed them forward to the spiralled staircase, waving to Mcgonagall as the door shut behind him. The invisibility cloak shimmered as he pulled it from his bag and unfolded it.
"You remember rule number four?" He asked, draping the cloak over them. Sirius and Draco huddled closer to her, and Hermione clasped her hands together. Awkward energy radiated through her as she waited to go under the cloak.
"Yes, Potter. We know all your stupid rules," Draco rolled his eyes and pulled the cloak over them. Being beneath the fabric together, where no one else could see what they were doing shot a thrill through Hermione. But she adamantly pushed it away. She was here to find books to get them unbound, not daydream about shagging beneath the invisibility cloak.
The halls were empty as they passed through them. It was a bit difficult to keep up with Harry's quick steps, especially squashed between two men, but she did her best. Hermione barely had time to enjoy the familiarity that surrounded her as they walked through the halls. The Library doors were closed when they approached but thankfully unlocked.
"Wait until we get to the Restricted Section to take off the cloak," Harry whispered, leading them to the back of the room. Nostalgia swam through Hermione as she looked around; the rows of books were like greeting old friends. It felt like being home, like being back where she belonged.
Harry pulled a key from his pocket and slid it into the lock, the chains that kept the Restricted Section closed off slipping to the ground. "We still have to be quiet. Filch and Pince don't know we're here, and I'd like to keep it that way."
Sirius pulled the cloak off of them when they stepped through the gate, and Hermione quickly patted her hair down as static electricity coursed through it. She looked around at the Restricted Section, excitement filling her stomach. Hermione had been here a handful of times during school, twice during eighth year, but never with permission. She itched to pull every book from the stacks and consume as much knowledge as possible, but they didn't have a lot of time.
Hermione pulled the list from her pocket, noting the first thing she listed. Find a book on wandlore.
"It's best just to leave her to her own devices," Harry warned. "I'll keep a lookout at the gate."
Hermione led Sirius and Draco around the shelves, pulling various books on wandlore, bonds, and runes. They floated in piles around her, perfectly sorted and organised. She ignored the muttered swot comment from Draco and the grin from Sirius.
They walked to the back of the stacks, the lanterns much dimmer than the front. Hermione lit the tip of her wand and crouched as she searched through the section. None of the books here would help her, and just as she turned away, a leather journal caught her eye.
It was plain and brown, and had no notable features. But the name scratched into the cover gave her pause. Yaxley. Why was it familiar to her? Out of interest, she picked it up, walking back to her pile on the nearby desk.
"Hey, Malfoy," Sirius mumbled, elbowing Draco in the side. He gestured to a nearby book ladder. "Think Minnie will mind if I borrow that?"
Draco chuckled, and Hermione scowled. She whacked Sirius on the back of his arm with the book, a satisfying thump echoing against the shelves. He turned abruptly and looked at her with surprise, but his coat caught a nearby lantern, knocking it to the ground.
The clatter of metal reverberated through the high ceilings. Sirius flinched and scratched the back of his head. "Oops."
The door to the library opened only a moment later with a loud squeak, and the three of them froze.
Harry turned down the aisle and sprinted toward them. "Put on the cloak and go to the back. Stay hidden."
They heeded his words, racing to the last row and huddling in the corner. Adrenaline coursed through Hermione's veins. It felt like school all over again when they'd sneak out for Merlin knew what.
Voices sounded from the gate, and Draco quickly unfurled the cloak, wrapping it around them as Sirius pulled Hermione against him. Her back pressed into his front, and Draco stood in front of her, their chest only just touching. She was smashed between. Her heartbeat no longer sped from the voices, but from the two men around her.
Sirius' hands rested on her hips, and her bum pressed squarely against his crotch while Draco gripped her shoulders. Hermione's brain could barely understand anything other than the feel of their bodies against her. She looked up at Draco beneath the invisibility cloak; his lips were parted, his breathing short, eyes dark as he stared at her.
Sirius leant forward, his words whispering into her ear. "I think he wants to kiss you, kitten."
Hermione blinked, pressing back into Sirius in surprise. Kiss Draco Malfoy? The very idea was absurd. Especially the fact that he wanted to kiss her too.
His features turned crestfallen, taking her pull away from him as disgust instead of surprise. Hermione rushed forward to console him, but her foot was tangled in the cloak. She tried to free it, but twisted in such a way that she fell sideways, Draco and Sirius following after her.
Harry rounded the shelf, hovering above them. "At least I managed to get Filch out before this happened."
Hermione quickly stood, a fresh blush coating her cheeks. Sirius only laughed and brushed off his jacket, Draco following suit though his frown stayed.
"I think it's about time to get out of here," Harry checked his watch. "Do you have everything you need, Hermione?"
Hermione looked through her stack, eyeing the journal that sat on top. "Yes, I do." She placed them gently inside her bag, careful to stack them so they didn't fall.
Sirius pulled the cloak from the floor and settled it around them, Harry leading them back out through the Library. Hermione already missed the comforting smell of old parchment and lantern oil.
The nostalgia only lasted for a moment until Sirius touched her hand.
Hermione was acutely aware of every move Draco and Sirius had made since arriving home, her body wound tight with desire. Showering had become difficult again, her lecherous eyes failing to stay on Sirius and Draco's faces.
Hermione glanced at Draco's back, his breathing deep. It had only been an hour since laying down for bed, and already he was sleeping. She glanced over her shoulder at Sirius, his bare back also facing her.
For the tenth time since laying in bed, Hermione clenched her legs together as her core throbbed. Maybe if she just slid her hands between her legs she could quietly rub herself and relieve some pressure. They were both sleeping, anyway. Now was as perfect a time as she could get.
I think he wants to kiss you.
Hermione's pinky grazed her clit atop her pyjamas, hips bucking forward to seek friction. She chewed at her bottom lip to keep her shaking breath silent. Her legs shifted to allow a more direct touch. She closed her eyes, flashes of images passing through her mind. Draco and Sirius in the bath; Sirius' hands gripping her waist in the Library. Draco fucking her against the shelves while Sirius watched.
A small whimper escaped her lips, and Sirius shifted. Hermione froze, her pulse jumping in her throat.
Gentle fingers prodded the exposed skin of her side, her shirt crinkled beneath her. Hermione hadn't even noticed, too far gone in her imagination. Her breath quickened as Sirius pressed his thumb into her muscle, and she pulled her hands away from her apex with a hot face.
"It's okay to touch yourself, kitten," Sirius whispered into her ear, his lips grazing her lobe. "We can't be apart and it's natural to need a release. Look at Malfoy, for instance."
Hermione opened her eyes and glanced at Draco. His breath was no longer even and deep. Instead, it was short and erratic like hers. At some point, he had moved to his back, and a tent formed beneath the blanket. Draco's large hands went under to squeeze himself, his legs shifting and pulling the blanket down.
Her eyes darted behind her to Sirius, and his pants were no different. Sirius took hold of her hand and guided it back down her body. His fingers were warm against hers, the rough calluses rubbing across her knuckles.
"Tell me to stop," he muttered, his voice thick. Hermione's fingers grazed her stomach, his hand continuing to push hers beneath her pyjamas. It was too surreal, whatever was happening, but she didn't want it to stop.
So she stayed silent. Sirius pressed a kiss to the edge of her jaw, and lightning shot down her spine. Malfoy continued to squeeze himself beside her as her fingers settled between her thighs. Desire coursed through Hermione, and it showed with the slickness of her apex.
Sirius squeezed her hand once before retracting his own, slowly, deliberately taking his time to graze his fingers over her skin. He settled back against his pillow, using that hand to touch himself. No one removed their pants, only touching themselves atop and beneath. A brief thought of how off this was, with Sirius and Draco being cousins. That they didn't care about doing this near each other, but Hermione pushed those thoughts aside—if they didn't care, she wouldn't care either.
Her fingers worked her clit, entirely caught off guard and highly aroused as she watched Sirius and Draco masturbate beside her. A symphony of moans and heavy breathing filled the room.
They went on for what felt like an hour; Sirius' other hand had found its way to her hip, the steady press of his tattooed fingers keeping her grounded as she found her way towards an orgasm. Draco had moved his face to her shoulder, his lips pressing against her heated skin.
He came first, his hips bucking sharply and wetness coating his pyjamas. Sirius came moments later, unabashedly pulling just the swollen tip of his cock out to finish over his stomach. That sight, plus the gentle kisses Draco peppered along her shoulder and arm, sent Hermione over the edge. Her muscles contracted, fire and electricity shooting through her body. Bright white light filled her vision, and her brain went fuzzy.
Hermione's chest heaved as she came down, her body going limp with exhaustion. The room fell into an awkward silence, and Sirius began to laugh. Hermione and Draco soon joined in, and the mood lifted. There was still an air of uncomfortableness, an unknown of what just happened and where to go from here, but exhaustion took precedence.
Sirius grabbed his wand and cast a cleaning spell over the three of them, their moment of abandon gone in an instant. He righted the blankets and settled on his back, his hand seeking Hermione's. Draco shifted on his side to face her and grabbed her other hand, curling it against his chest.
For the first time in days, Hermione thought of nothing and drifted off to sleep instantly.