Three for All

by Warviben

Harry and Hermione grow closer after Ron leaves them during the hunt for horcruxes. Their lives become even more interesting when Severus Snape joins them after the final battle. Strong warnings for sexual content (see inside for details).

2. Chapter 2

THREE FOR ALL

by Warviben

Summary: Harry and Hermione grow closer after Ron leaves them during the hunt for horcruxes. Their lives become even more interesting when Severus Snape joins them after the final battle.

Warning: This fic is for grown-ups. It contains detailed descriptions of sexual activities between two characters (a male and a female) and three characters (a female and two males). If you are not old enough, or if this type of thing is not for you, please stop reading now.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or the basic premise for their existence. I guess I do own some of the characters that come later – you'll know who they are.

##########

From Chapter 1:

Harry and Hermione had no chance to talk about the Minister's visit, and Hermione had no time to tell Harry that Snape had woken up, before Minerva's head popped up in the fire. "I'm coming through," she informed them briskly.

"Good," Harry said. "I was just coming to see you."

##########

Harry's day went from bad, with the news of the Ministry's careless betrayal, to good, with the news of Snape's awakening, to bad again in the amount of time it took for an owl to appear and deliver a letter. Harry unrolled the parchment after feeding the bird and sending it on its way. "It's from Andromeda," he told Hermione. They were expecting a visit from Harry's godson tomorrow, a visit which Harry had been eagerly anticipating.

His face fell as he read the letter, and he sat heavily on the sofa.

"Harry? What's wrong?" Hermione sat beside him.

Without a word, Harry handed her the parchment, then sat back and covered his face with his hands. Hermione read:

Dear Harry,

I write in reference to your visit with Teddy. I have, of course, read the news that you are sheltering Severus Snape. This concerns me in many ways, but mostly because I heard many things about this man from Nymphadora. She told me many times she did not trust him, that she was almost convinced he was working for Voldemort, despite Dumbledore's trust in him. While he was Headmaster at Hogwarts, I heard many disturbing stories of atrocities allowed to happen under his watch, to children.

I have been given the task of raising my grandchild, and I take that responsibility seriously. I cannot in good conscience allow him in the presence of someone I suspect of war crimes, someone who was in charge of Hogwarts when my daughter and her husband were killed there. It is with regret that I must cancel our visit for this week.

Nymphadora always spoke very highly of you, and I have never had any reason to think you anything but an upstanding young man. I must now suspect your judgment in giving shelter to this man who has committed such grievance crimes against our world.

Should you reconsider your decision to advocate on behalf of this man, I would be pleased to revisit your involvement in Teddy's life. Until then, I stand by my decision to keep him away from undesirable elements.

Sincerely yours,

Andromeda Tonks

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said with sympathy.

"I'm an 'undesirable element'," Harry said incredulously. He looked up at her with wet, earnest eyes. "What can I do, Hermione? Remus wanted me to – can I force her to let me see him?"

"Godparents don't have any legal rights, Harry. She's his guardian. She has the right to make decisions regarding his care."

Harry sat on the sofa, defeat in his posture and his eyes. "It was supposed to get easier, you know? When it was over? When does everything stop being such a struggle? When does anything get easy?" Harry was so tired of fighting, everyone and everything.

"Do you want to reconsider?" Hermione asked. "About Snape?"

"No," Harry said immediately. "I'm not wrong about this thing with Snape. He needs someone to speak up for him. What he did, all those years – his life was in danger every day, Hermione, for years and years. I can't even imagine the stress he lived with. I don't know how he did it. No, standing up for Severus Snape is the most right thing I've ever done. I just didn't know the price would be so high."

"I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry got up and went to the window, staring out at nothing. An hour later, he was still there.

##########

"I'm sorry, Professor," Hermione said as she attempted to maneuver Snape back onto his clean sheets, a little more roughly than she'd intended. "Harry's been doing the cleaning spells and changing your linens. I'm not in practice."

"And where is Mr. Potter?" Snape asked as he settled back against his pillows with relief. "I've not see him since yesterday."

"He's . . . a little out of sorts today," Hermione said, steadfastly avoiding Snape's eyes.

"Did I hear correctly, Miss Granger?"

"It's Hermione," she corrected. "And what do you think you heard?"

"I thought I heard Kingsley Shacklebolt here yesterday."

"You did," Hermione confirmed.

"And I thought I heard you refer to him as the Minister."

"Mm hmm."

"And I thought I heard Harry pull his wand on the Minister of Magic when he threatened to take me away."

Hermione sighed. "You did. You know Harry – act first, think of the consequences later."

Snape was quiet for a moment, staring at his hands as they smoothed the sheet on his chest. "I have to confess to a significant amount of surprise at being here and not in Azkaban."

"There are those who want you there," Hermione told him.

"And all that stands between me and the wizard prison is Harry Potter?"

"And me. And Minerva. We all agree that you don't belong in prison. We were hiding you here, until that cat got let out of the bag. Now everyone knows."

"But he pulled his wand on the Minister of Magic?"

Hermione smiled fondly. "That's our Harry."

"And 'our Harry' is currently under the weather?"

"Something like that."

"Is it serious?" Severus replied. "Is there anything I can do? A potion perhaps?"

Hermione snorted. "Like you're in any shape to brew! No, it's not anything a potion can help."

"It is not physical, then?"

"No, it's not physical. He's feeling a little – everything's just kind of caught up to him, I think."

"Does he regret bringing me here?" Snape guessed.

"Not at all. It's everyone's reaction to it that has him down."

"His friends have been less than supportive?"

"It's not that. We haven't heard from any of the Weasleys. It's Andromeda Tonks."

"Nymphadora's mother?" Snape asked, confused.

"Yes, she's the baby's guardian."

"Baby?" Snape was so out of touch.

"Tonks and Remus had a child, a son. When they . . . died, she became the baby's guardian. Remus asked Harry to be the godfather. Andromeda was supposed to bring Teddy by today, but she sent an owl yesterday canceling the visit." Hermione stopped here, unwilling to explain just why.

But Snape thought he knew. "Because of me."

Hermione sighed. "Harry took it hard. She's refusing to let him be a part of Teddy's life. He was so looking forward to seeing him."

Snape was silent for a moment. "I don't understand why you are doing this. You're alienating the wizarding world, for someone who likely doesn't deserve it."

"Harry and I both know the truth, Professor. He spoke with Dumbledore, just prior to going to the Shrieking Shack. We know what you've sacrificed over the past few years. And we won't rest until everyone else knows, too."

Overcome by feelings he couldn't name or understand, Snape lay back against the pillow and closed his eyes. "I feel quite fatigued. I would like to sleep now."

"Of course, Professor. Get some rest. I'll bring you a bit to eat later." She fussed over his blankets for a moment before leaving him blissfully alone.

##########

Hermione was becoming quite concerned about Harry. He had been basically despondent for two days – he wasn't eating, he wasn't communicating other than in one-syllable words and grunts, he wasn't bathing. She'd seen him in a funk before, but he'd never gone this far or this deep, and he'd always brought himself out of them. Hermione had let him be up until now, but he didn't seem to be getting any better.

She was tired herself. With Harry in the condition he was, she was solely responsible for caring for Snape. Now that he was conscious, he'd started eating. She was administering his potions, making his meals, taking care of his needs. After getting him settled into bed for the evening and seeing him off to sleep, Hermione went in search of her lover.

She found him in their bedroom, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, his arms wrapped around his shins. He was staring at the opposite wall, and he looked so sad that Hermione thought her heart might break just from looking at him. The dark smudges under his eyes bespoke a lack of sleep, and Hermione thought maybe that was the place to start getting her Harry back.

She went into the adjoining bathroom and began to run water into the tub. While she waited for the tub to fill, Hermione passed back through the bedroom, by an oblivious Harry, and made her way down to the kitchen, where she fixed him a tray of biscuits and tea. When she returned to the bedroom, Harry hadn't moved, and the tub was filled. Hermione checked the temperature, heated it a few degrees, added bath oil smelling of lavender and vanilla, then went back into the bedroom and knelt on the floor beside Harry.

"Harry?" she said softly. "I love you."

A very small smile came to Harry's lips and went quickly away again. Hermione reached out and took his hand, prying his arm away from its hold on his legs. "Come with me," she requested. She stood up, pulling on Harry's hand as she did. She thought at first that he was going to resist, but he finally allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

Hermione led him into the bathroom. Harry stood docilely on the rug, so Hermione began to undress him. When he was naked, she led him into the tub and helped him to settle into the water. She let him soak for a few minutes, then joined him in the bathroom, soaped up a flannel and began to wash him. After washing his hair, she pulled him to a standing position and helped him out of the tub. Still not assisting her at all, Harry stood silently while Hermione dried him, then led him to the bed.

She settled him into the bed and placed the tray beside him. She picked up the cup of tea and pressed it to his lips. When he pressed his lips closed, Hermione said sternly, "Harry," and he opened up enough for her to pour a small amount of tea into his mouth. She followed that up with a biscuit which she insisted he chew up and swallow. When he'd eaten three biscuits and emptied the cup of tea, Hermione moved the tray to the floor and settled Harry flat in the bed.

Hermione undressed and climbed into the bed, snuggling up to Harry. It was not her intention to have sex with Harry, but she discovered, quite by accident, that he had an erection, which he seemed quite interested in using. She rolled atop him, kissed him gently on the forehead, then raised up enough so that she could grasp his cock, rub its head between her folds to produce lubrication, then lowered herself down onto him.

God in Heaven, she'd missed this. She lay herself down on Harry, breasts to chest, and rocked herself up and down on his erection. For a moment, Harry only lay there, but finally his arms went around Hermione's waist, and he began to thrust up into her. Hermione pushed herself up so she could look down at Harry. His eyes were closed as he concentrated on moving within her. His jaw tightened as the pace of his thrusting increased, and Hermione could tell he was close. She continued to stare down into his face until he grunted, his eyes screwed tightly shut, and ejaculated up into her. She rode out his orgasm, then lay down on Harry's chest again. When he stilled, she rolled to her side, bringing Harry with her, his cock still tucked securely inside her. It had been quick, and she hadn't come, but she thought they were both better for what they'd just done.

When Hermione looked up at Harry, he was looking back at her, and his green eyes were clearer than she'd seen them in two days. "Welcome back," she whispered.

"Thank you," he said, kissing her lips tenderly.

Harry's softening penis slid out of her, and Hermione felt the wash of his fluid trickling down her thigh. She should cast a cleaning spell – it was cold and icky feeling, but it was oh-so-perfect, so she lay her head on Harry's shoulder, snuggled into the security of his embrace, and let herself fall to sleep quickly.

When they woke in the morning, her Harry was back, apologetic and very hungry.

##########

Snape was finally able to get out of bed and spend short periods of time sitting, in the library or at the table. He tired quickly, but it was such a relief to be up and doing something that he didn't complain when one of his keepers told him it was time to nap.

He'd just left his room one morning when he heard an unusual sound coming from the floor above, and he slowly climbed the stairs to investigate. Three steps from the top, he stopped and sat on the step.

Harry was in the shower. Over the sound of the running water, he could hear the boy singing.

"Blast you high, hear me call, must I fight City Hall. Here and now, damn it all, come back to me. What on Earth must I do? Scream and yell, 'til I'm blue? Curse your soul, when will you come back to me? Have you gone to the moon or the corner saloon? At your rack, at your room, Mademoiselle, where in Hell can you be?"

Bemused, Severus sat for many minutes listening and was a little embarrassed to be caught there by Hermione.

"Everything all right?" she asked, concerned that he'd tried to climb the stairs and become exhausted before reaching the top.

"Yes, fine. I was just . . . listening to Potter."

In the bathroom, the sound of Harry's singing ended, followed by the running water stopping.

Hermione smiled at him and sat down beside him. "Harry," she said fondly. "Pretty good, isn't he? His aunt used to sing those songs."

Before Snape could respond, Harry opened the door and exited the bathroom wrapped in a towel, his hair still dripping. He stopped when he caught sight of the two of them sitting side by side on the step and stared at them, wondering what they were doing there.

"Er, hello?" he said.

Hermione smiled at him in response.

"I should like to introduce you to some wizards, Mr. Potter," Severus said. "They could teach you a drying charm."

"I don't like drying charms. They make my hair stand up."

Severus' eyes went to the top of Harry's head, and he didn't have to voice what he was thinking. Harry huffed and turned to go, grabbing at his towel when it loosened and threatened to fall down his hips. Severus laughed for the first time since waking up here.

##########

Snape wouldn't have thought it possible, but Granger and Potter were very adequate caretakers. They were respectful of his privacy and what dignity was left to an invalid. They were surprisingly pleasant conversationalists, and they spent many hours talking through their experiences over the last year, Snape filling them in on what had happened at Hogwarts and Harry and Hermione regaling him with tales of their adventures on the run. Snape had expected to find himself in Azkaban, and even Potter's presence was preferable to that.

It didn't take long for Snape to realize that something in the relationship between the two young people had changed. Snape was an observant person, and they were making no effort to hide it, so he noticed that they touched each other in ways that went beyond mere friendship. One day, when Hermione was tucking him back into his bed for his afternoon nap, he asked about it.

"I have noticed that you and Potter are . . . close," he said. "This is a new development?"

Hermione smiled at him. "We've been together for a few months."

"You were friends at Hogwarts, yes?"

"Yes, we were just friends while we were at school," Hermione confirmed. "Harry was seeing Ginny at the end of our sixth year."

"And you were with Mr. Weasley, I believe."

"Yes, that's true," Hermione admitted.

"Had your relationship with Mr. Weasley ended, then? When you took up with Potter?" Snape asked.

Hermione hesitated with her answer, and Snape felt as though he should offer an apology. "I am sorry, Miss Granger. I am prying into things that do not concern me. Please forgive me."

"No, it's all right. We're all living here together. Our relationships sort of . . . overlapped, I guess I'd say."

Snape took this to mean that she was still seeing Weasley when she'd begun her relationship with Potter. He hadn't thought either one of them capable of such deception and betrayal. Funny what living in isolation did to a person.

"I have been wondering why Mr. Weasley does not visit. The three of you were nearly inseparable while at school. I assume then that the dissolution of your romantic relationship also ended your friendship with him?"

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed the coverlet. "It was a little more complicated than that, but yes, that's the gist of it."

"And Miss Weasley?"

"Harry broke things off with her before we went horcrux hunting. I think he intended to return to her when it was over, but then we – " Hermione trailed off. It was hard not to feel a small measure of guilt over Ginny – the look in her eyes when they had returned to Hogwarts and Ginny had realized that Harry and Hermione were more than friends.

"I am sorry if I have upset you with my questions."

Hermione smiled thinly and stood up. "You haven't upset me. It's the past. I have Harry now, and we're happy together."

Snape settled back into his pillow. "I am . . . glad. You deserve happiness."

Hermione gifted him with a real smile this time. "Thank you. You get some rest now."

##########

Snape was awoken some time later by the sound of raised voices. As quickly as he could, he got out of bed and took up his wand. He crept out of his room and padded silently in sock feet toward the source of the noise, which seemed to be the sitting room.

"We've had this discussion before!" Harry said. He wasn't shouting, exactly, but he was obviously angry and trying to keep control of his temper.

"Yes, Harry. I told you I would think the matter over." Kingsley.

"You're not taking him," Harry said firmly.

"He's got to be recovering, Harry," Shacklebolt said reasonably. "He's been here for weeks."

"That's irrelevant," Harry countered. "You're not taking him, whether he's healthy or not. If I let him go now, no one will ever see him again. You'll take him in there, and he'll get lost in the bowels of the Ministry. He's a hero, Kingsley. I won't have him treated like a common criminal."

Harry's words warmed Severus as he stood listening to the boy's impassioned defense.

"We seem to have reached a stalemate," Kingsley noted. "Although I think there may be one more move on the board."

Severus couldn't see Harry, but he could picture in his mind the boy staring suspiciously at the much taller man. "Chess was Ron's specialty. Why don't you spell it out for me?"

"You told me you refused to participate in any of the award ceremonies or the celebrations of the victory."

"Yes, I did."

"And I told you that the wizarding world needs you. They need to see their savior, they want to thank you. You deserve these things, Harry. I understand that you want your privacy and that you never wanted the adulation, but in this time of rebuilding, the people need a focal point, someone they can look to as they plan their future."

"And you want me to be that 'focal point'?" Harry asked, his voice hard and angry.

"Who better?"

"You want this in exchange for Severus Snape?" Harry asked, voice flat now.

Severus felt more than a little strange, standing here listening to himself be bargained over. How far was Potter willing to go to keep him from the Ministry's clutches? Should he step out now and give himself up? Grimmauld Place, as depressing as it could be, was worlds better than an Azkaban holding cell, so Severus stayed where he was.

Potter was silent for a very long time, apparently considering the Minister's offer. When he finally spoke, his voice now contained a noticeable note of disgust. "You've become a politician, Kingsley."

"I have a job to do, Harry. I'm trying to take it seriously."

"You disgust me," Harry spat.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Kingsley said, and he sounded as though he genuinely was. "Do we have a deal?"

"We have a deal. But I will not be your pet. I will not be paraded out at every stupid function you people think up. You'll keep it to the more important functions."

"I can do that," Kingsley agreed. "But definitely the awards ceremony to start. Now that I have your agreement, we'll get that scheduled. I'll let you know the date."

"And you'll do whatever it takes to make sure everyone leaves Snape alone," Harry stated. "A pardon or whatever."

"Yes."

"Get out of my house, Kingsley. And don't come back."

"Of course," a subdued Minister of Magic said, and Severus heard the sound of the floo flaring to life.

"Fuck!" Harry spit. "I hate this!"

"I'm sorry, Harry," Severus heard Hermione say. "I know he was your friend."

Severus could hear Harry's sigh from where he stood in the hall. "Snape, you might as well come in. I know you're out there."

Flushing with embarrassment at being caught, Severus slipped into the room. "Thank you, Potter," he said. "I know that wasn't easy for you."

"I'm only doing what Professor Dumbledore would have wanted me to do, sir. You don't need to thank me." Obviously still upset by the perceived betrayal of someone he thought was a friend, Harry brushed by Severus on his way out of the room.

##########

"So she said that she talked with him, and he agreed to do it. She's probably there now," Hermione was saying to Harry when Severus walked into the kitchen. "Hello, Professor. Would you like some tea?"

"Thank you. I'll get it," he told, waving her back down when she started to rise from her chair. She dropped back into her seat and continued speaking. "It has to help, don't you think?"

"It can't hurt," Harry said, near despondent.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, concerned.

Snape settled at the table with his fresh cup of tea and watched them both.

"Great," Harry muttered. "Just great."

Snape sipped his tea, studying Harry over the top of his cup. Yesterday's meeting with Shacklebolt had upset the boy, and he appeared not to be over it yet. "Anything I should worry about?" he asked nonchalantly.

"No," Harry said quickly.

"Professor Dumbledore has agreed to give an interview to the Quibbler," Hermione explained. "I spoke with Luna yesterday after the Minister left, and she suggested it. She went to Hogwarts yesterday and asked him if he'd be willing, and he said yes. She's there now talking to him."

"And what, might I ask, are they discussing?" Snape asked.

"You," Hermione told him. "We thought that getting the truth out about you could only help."

"The truth?" Snape spit. "You think anyone really knows the truth? Or wants to hear it?"

"Everyone needs to hear the truth," Hermione countered. "From a source that's above reproach."

"And did no one think to ask me if I wanted this?"

"No," Harry said, his anger rising again. "No one asked you, you great wanker. Just like no one asked me when I was a year old if I wanted to be responsible for offing a murderer and no one asked me if I wanted to grow up in a cupboard and no one asked me if I wanted to live the rest of my life being a toady for the Ministry!" Harry slammed his cup down onto its saucer and stood up. He was still upset about his dispute with Kingsley yesterday and the deal he'd had to make to keep Snape away from the Ministry. He wasn't so much upset about the deal as he was about the fact that he'd had to make it. Dumbledore had told Shacklebolt the truth. As a member of the Order, that should have been good enough for the Minister to leave Snape alone. But he'd used Harry's desire to protect Snape to get something from Harry that he wouldn't have gotten any other way. Harry was tired of politics, and he was tired of being used. And Snape had the nerve to complain. Before he said anything he'd likely regret, Harry stalked out of the room.

##########

The next issue of The Quibbler was on news stands three days later. A picture of the former Headmaster of Hogwarts adorned the front cover, the familiar twinkling blue eyes smiling out from his portrait frame. The headline read: "Dumbledore Clears Snape." The article was surprisingly coherent (considering that Luna Lovegood had written it) and contained a transcript of Luna's interview, almost verbatim, with the Headmaster. Dumbledore clearly and unequivocally defended Snape, explained the history of Snape's defection from the Death Eaters and his subsequent role as a spy for the Light, and stated that had it not been for Snape, Harry would never have been in a position to finally end the reign of the Dark Lord's terror. He ended by saying that while Harry had cast the final spell, Snape had laid the ground work to make it possible.

Luna ended the article by describing Voldemort's unsuccessful attempt to kill Snape and informed the world at large that Snape was recovering from his wounds at an undisclosed location. Of course, anyone who read the Prophet knew exactly where that "undisclosed" location was.

##########

"Did you hear something?" Hermione asked Harry, her head popping up off the pillow.

But Harry had already risen, his wand in hand, naked as a jaybird, but focused on the sound of the alarm notifying him that someone was attempting to breach the wards surrounding Grimmauld Place. A quick glance at the bedside clock showed him that it was nearly two in the morning. Anyone with legitimate business here would not have tripped the wards – whoever it was likely was here for Snape.

"You need to get to Snape," Harry said, keeping his voice low. "Don't hesitate to use whatever you need."

"What are you going to do?" Hermione asked as she slipped into her robe.

"I want to see how many there are."

"How did they get in?"

"I don't know, and we don't have time to figure it out now. Go now, Hermione. I'll join you there as soon as I can."

Leading the way, Harry left their bedroom, escorting Hermione to Snape's bedroom door, then leaving her while he went to investigate further. "Be careful, Harry," she pleaded with him before slipping into Snape's room.

Where she encountered the end of Snape's wand. He lay in bed still, but was hardly defenseless. "It's me," she whispered.

"What is going on?" he asked.

"Someone's breaking in," Hermione informed him, crossing to his bed and grabbing up his robe. "Here, put this on. Harry's gone down to see if he can tell how many there are."

"You let him go alone?" Snape asked as he stood and slipped his arms into the robe.

"I needed to come here. Harry will be here once he scopes out what's going on."

"We should join him," Snape urged. "He may need help."

"You're still too weak," Hermione pointed out. "Harry will be fine. It'll take them some time to get through, if they can manage it. He'll have time to investigate and get back up here."

Proving her words, Harry slipped into the room. "Potter! What's going on?"

"There are ten of them," Harry reported. "We can't fight them. Not all of them. We've got to go." He would be willing to fight it out if they were all healthy, but he couldn't bank on Snape being able to fully help in his weakened condition.

"Go where?" Snape asked.

Harry ignored him. "We've probably got two minutes. Gather up what you can't leave behind. We may not be back."

"Potter," Snape said, stopping Harry as he turned toward the door.

"What?"

Snape's eyes traveled down Harry's naked form then back up again. "You may want to put some clothes on."

Harry smiled impishly. "I was hoping to shock them into submission."

"Careful – you may catch a hex in an area that could change your life."

Harry chuckled. "Good point. Hermione, you stay here. I'll grab your things and come right back."

Harry slipped out of the room, and Snape began to throw his clothes haphazardly into a rucksack. Before he'd finished, Harry returned, fully clothed. "That was quick," Snape noted.

Harry shrugged. "We got used to living on the run. We never really unpacked." He lifted his head, listening. "They're in. Hermione, take him and go," he ordered, handing her the bag containing their things.

"Where are you going?"

"I want to get to Kreacher, if I can."

"Potter, he's a house elf. He'll be fine," Snape argued. "We have to go!"

"I can't just leave him. I'll join you as soon as I can. Go, Hermione!"

Hermione and Harry shared a look, then Hermione nodded, took Snape's arm, and the two of them disappeared.

Harry threw his invisibility cloak over his head, then slipped out of the bedroom and made for the stairs. He heard people moving around in the sitting room, and he made his way silently down the stairs to the kitchen. "Kreacher!" he whispered loudly, just outside the elf's cupboard door.

The door opened, and Kreacher's head poked out. "Master is . . ."

"Shhhhh!" Harry cautioned. "There are intruders in the house. Many of them. We're taking Snape to a safe location. I would like to take you there, too."

"But Master's house . . . I cannot leave the House of Black unprotected," the elf protested.

"Kreacher, there are too many of them. The house isn't worth it. They may hurt you if they find you. I want you to come with me." He knew he could order the elf to go, and that Kreacher would have to obey, but he wanted Kreacher to choose to come. "Please, Kreacher."

"Kreacher does not want to leave his things, Master."

"Then get them. But please hurry."

Kreacher retreated into the cupboard. Harry strained his ears listening for any sound of the intruders coming down here, his eyes flicking back and forth between Kreacher's cupboard and the door at the bottom of the stairs. Finally, Kreacher opened the door, carrying a pillowcase weighed down with his most treasured possessions, and stepped out into the kitchen. He bowed low to Harry. "Kreacher is ready, Master."'

Not a moment too soon – Harry heard feet pounding down the stairs and someone shouted, "I hear voices in the kitchen."

Harry took Kreacher by the arm and apparated them both away as someone burst through the door, a curse on his lips and his wand.

##########

"Where are we?" Snape asked immediately after they arrived.

"Somewhere in Scotland," Hermione informed him, leading Snape to a love seat in a dusty sitting room and practically forcing him to sit. "Minerva owns this place. It's been in her family for decades. No one knows she owns it. After word got out that you were at Grimmauld Place, Harry and Minerva set up a plan that we would bring you here should there be a need. She's been alerted by now that we're here, and she'll send the Order to Grimmauld Place."

Snape was somewhat impressed that the two youngsters had thought to have a plan in place in case of trouble. But where was Potter?

They waited silently, both of them worried but neither willing to voice that worry, until Harry popped into the room holding the arm of Kreacher.

"Harry!" Hermione said, and she threw herself into his arms. "Thank God!"

"I'm fine, Hermione," he assured her, kissing her forehead. "Kreacher, would you mind fixing us some tea?"

Kreacher bowed low again. "Yes, Master."

Harry sighed. "Kreacher, I've asked you not to call me that. I'm Harry."

"Yes, Master," Kreacher agreed, then popped out of the room.

"All right, Professor?" Harry asked Snape. The man looked pale and worn. "Would you like me to find you a bed?"

"No," Snape said, though he wasn't sure that wasn't just what he needed. "I am fine." He had no intention of going to bed until he knew exactly what was going on.

"I suspect a spot of tea will help us all," Harry said, and he closed his eyes as a sudden weakness swept through his body.

"Harry?" Hermione asked. "Are you – Harry, you're bleeding!"

Harry looked down – his right sleeve was soaking through with blood. He would have fallen to his knees if Hermione hadn't put an arm around his waist and held him up.

"Sit down, Potter," Snape said, rising up from the sofa.

Hermione led him to the sofa and helped Harry to sit. Harry leaned back while Hermione peeled up the blood-soaked sleeve. A deep gash ran from Harry's elbow to his wrist, and he hissed when the sleeve pulled out of the wound.

"How did this happen?" Hermione asked.

"Just as I was taking Kreacher away, someone burst into the kitchen. He threw a hex at me. I thought it had missed. Apparently I was wrong."

"Do you know what hex was used?" Snape asked, examining the wound as Hermione held his arm gently.

"No. I was more worried about getting out of there."

"General healing spell, you think?" Hermione asked, looking up at Snape.

"Generally the safest bet," Snape agreed.

"Would you –" Hermione asked, indicating Harry's arm.

Snape took hold of the boy's arm and held it firmly while Hermione cast the spells to clean Harry's arm, disinfect the wound, and seal the edges together. While Harry sat with his eyes closed, Snape and Hermione stood watching the wound, making sure it stayed closed and that the bleeding had stopped. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when it appeared that she'd healed Harry's wound.

"Master," Kreacher said, popping back into the room, startling the three of them. "There is no tea. Kreacher will punish himself." Kreacher began banging his head against the door frame.

Harry jumped up, wincing when the sudden movement jarred his still-painful arm. "No, Kreacher! Stop! It's all right. We don't need tea that badly."

"Kreacher will return to the House of Black. There is tea there."

"No!" Harry said quickly. "I forbid you to go back there. It's not safe. What do we have?"

"Nothing, Master," Kreacher reported. "There is no food here."

Harry sighed. Some plan. "We can deal with that in the morning – later today. Minerva should be here at some point. Let's check out the bedrooms and try to get some more sleep."

##########

But Minerva did not show up the following morning. By noon, Harry's arm ached and his belly was empty, but he refused to let Kreacher return to Grimmauld Place until they knew what was going on. He'd gone outside, trying to determine if they were close to civilization and any type of market, but they appeared to be in the middle of a moor that stretched forever, unbroken, in all directions.

By mid-afternoon, they were going in circles with their speculation over who might have broken into Grimmauld Place and how they'd come to learn the location of the fidelius-protected property. Harry was convinced that someone had betrayed them purposely, but Snape was of the opinion that it was only a matter of time before the secret was divulged to the wrong person, most likely unwittingly. After Dumbledore's death, everyone who knew the location of the safe house became its protector. With that many secret keepers, the power of the fidelius was severely diluted and weakened, and all it would take is someone eavesdropping on an unprotected conversation. Harry hoped Snape was right – he hated to think that anyone he knew (even Ron) would deliberately have betrayed them to former Death Eaters.

Their empty bellies were starting to drive them all spare. They sat in the small sitting room, trying to distract themselves from worrying thoughts.

"There's a swimming pool here," Harry told Hermione. "Did you notice?"

"I did," Hermione confirmed, looking up from the book she'd found in the room.

"If we're here for any length of time, maybe you could teach me to swim."

"You cannot swim?" Snape asked, surprised. "But the second task, of the Tri Wizard Tournament . . ."

"That was the gillyweed," Harry explained. "I was terrified I was going to drown. Will you teach me, Hermione?"

"Of course I will, love."

They were silent for a while before Harry couldn't stand it any more. "Man, I'm hungry! What I wouldn't give to be at Hogwarts right now."

"You did not get used to being hungry while you were on the run?" Snape asked.

"You never really get used to that feeling," Harry said. "You learn to live with it, but it's always there, just in the back of your mind. The only way to get away from it is to sleep."

They sat and thought about that for a moment. Snape's life had never been easy, but he'd never been hungry for extended periods of time. Potter sounded as though he had more than a passing familiarity with hunger. "Yorkshire pudding," Snape said at last.

At Harry's questioning look, Snape explained, "That was my favorite dish at the Hogwarts table. With a roast of beef cooked medium rare. And those carrots they made with the glaze, and boiled potatoes." Snape almost licked his lips at the memory. "With treacle tart for afters."

"Mmmm. Treacle tart – that was always my favorite, too. Why are we talking about food? I'm so hungry!" Harry moaned.

Hermione looked up from the book. "I read somewhere once that people in the concentration camps would talk about food and recipes while they were basically starving to death."

Both men looked at her as though she'd grown a second nose. "What? Sorry. I didn't make it up. I actually did read that."

"Do you smell that?" Harry asked suddenly, sitting up straighter.

Hermione and Snape both began sniffing the air. "Yes," Snape confirmed. "Smells like . . ." He sniffed again, "lamb."

Harry jumped up and went into the kitchen, followed by the others. As soon as the door opened, they were assaulted by the rich smells of food, glorious food.

"Kreacher!" Harry spoke to the elf around the drool that suddenly filled his mouth. Kreacher stood on a stool, stirring a pot on the cooker. "I thought I told you not to go back to Grimmauld Place!"

Kreacher wobbled on his stool, nearly falling off, but he steadied himself with the hand stirring the contents of the wonderful-smelling pot. "Kreacher did not return to the House of Black, Master."

"Where did the food come from?"

"Kreacher went to Hogwarts. Kreacher was seeing how the Master and his impure guests were hungry, and Kreacher must get food."

"Kreacher – " Harry said in warning to the elf's prejudiced words.

"Did you speak to any of the other elves while you were there?" Snape demanded, not caring if a lowly house elf thought him unworthy to step foot in the vaunted House of Black.

At his most obsequious when speaking with those whom he felt least deserved it (a form of naive sarcasm which Snape appreciated), Kreacher bowed as low as could given he was currently on a stool. "No, Master Snape, Kreacher only took food and spoke to no one."

"Did you hear anything while you were there? Any gossip that might bear on our situation?" Hermione asked, her tone gentle as it always was when she spoke with the house elf.

"No, Miss," Kreacher said almost lovingly, his attitude toward Hermione's mudblood status softened completely over time by her gentle and generous treatment of him. "Kreacher heard nothing."

"If Minerva isn't here by tomorrow morning," Harry said, "I'm going to Hogwarts myself to find out what's going on. But in the meantime, Kreacher – thank you for taking care of us. I think I speak for all of us when I say that whenever it's ready, we'd like to eat, regardless of whether or not it's actually mealtime."

"Kreacher lives to serve, Master," he said with a half-bow, then turned back to the stove.

##########

Minerva finally arrived the following morning, just after Kreacher served the eggs and ham he'd pilfered from Hogwarts. "Minerva," Snape said, wiping his mouth on a napkin. "Have you eaten?"

"Yes, thank you." She sat at the table and nodded in acceptance of Hermione's offer of tea. "I apologize for taking so long to come to you. I've been trying to find answers to the questions I'd knew you'd have. First, we have no idea how they got in. It is obvious the fidelius has been compromised, but we have no idea why or by whom. I have personally questioned most of the surviving members of the Order, and they all assure me that they have not been indiscrete. I tend to believe them, but obviously someone has said something they shouldn't in the presence of someone who used this information to break into Grimmauld Place.

"Now, as to the house," Minerva continued after a sip of tea. "They were gone before any of us could get there. They did a sizeable amount of damage to the house, apparently in anger at having missed you. They set several small fires, which were extinguished before they could really take hold. The house is still structurally sound, but it will need a great deal of cosmetic work before you can return there. I am sorry, Harry."

"Huh? Oh, it's all right. Not like I was attached to the place, really."

"I would like to offer you the use of this house, for as long as you need it," Minerva said.

"Thank you," Hermione said when no one else spoke. "That's very generous of you."

"You've all been through a lot in the last few months. You deserve some peace. No one knows I own this place. The four of us are the only ones who know you are here, and we will keep it that way."

"Is there some type of market nearby?" Harry asked. "If we're to stay, we'll need access to food."

"I will provide you with a charmed ice box," Minerva told him.

Hermione and Snape both nodded in acceptance of this offer. Harry looked at both of them, then at Minerva. "All right. I admit it. I'm an idiot. What's a charmed ice box?"

Snape snorted his agreement with Harry's self-analysis. "It's an ice box, charmed as sort of a two-way transport device. It will have a twin, at Hogwarts. Elves there will put food into the box at their end, it will appear on our end."

"Cool," Harry said, impressed. "So a vanishing cabinet, of sorts."

"Exactly like a vanishing cabinet," Minerva confirmed. "If there's something specific you want, just write it on a piece of parchment and put it in the box. The elves will provide whatever you need – parchment, quills, books, anything within reason, as well as food. They will also deliver any mail addressed to the three of you. So please, make yourselves at home here as long as you like. I will provide you with any news I learn." She stood up. "And now, I have to go. Take care of each other."

After she'd left, Hermione looked at Harry, worried that recent events might drive him into depression. "Are you okay, Harry?"

"Me? I'm fine. Maybe we could start those swimming lessons this afternoon."

##########

Harry took to swimming like – well, like a fish to water. Within the space of one afternoon, Hermione taught him how to float, how to do a backstroke, and how to do a simple forward crawl. From that time on, Harry spent as much time in the water as he could. As a child, he'd always wanted to swim. Dudley had had lessons, and not only was Harry not allowed to participate as well, Aunt Petunia had dragged him to his cousin's lessons so that Harry had to watch as the large, ungainly boy flailed about in the water. To explain his non-participation, Petunia told everyone that Harry was terrified of the water.

Though he felt a little childish and silly, Harry made up games to play by himself in the pool. Hermione liked to swim, but she preferred to lay on the pool deck in her string bikini tanning herself a beautiful bronze. Sometimes she would play games with him – she would throw diving rings in the pool while Harry covered his eyes. He then had to find all of the rings in a predetermined length of time. When she got tired of the games, Harry would pretend he was an undersea adventurer looking for gold or a scientist attempting to identify new sea creatures or a superhero rescuing a fair maiden from a watery death. He had an excellent imagination, and he could keep himself amused for hours on end, coming out of the pool looking much like a prune.

And while the two young people spent their carefree afternoons in the sunshine around the pool, Snape stayed inside and watched them surreptitiously. They were beautiful together, he decided, well matched physically and personality-wise. They touched often in his presence, sharing a quick kiss or holding hands or intertwining their feet when they sat on the sofa together. When they were outside his immediate presence, the kisses became longer, the touches more intimate, and Snape became a shameless voyeur, envious of what they had together. He was still somewhat amazed that they had accepted him into their lives as they had done – their relationship during the youngsters' tenure at school, especially during their last year there, had been contentious, but Harry and Hermione had, by all accounts, taken very good care of Snape, weak and unconscious, while he was recovering from the snakebite. They'd been nothing but respectful and polite to him since he'd recovered enough to rejoin them in living their daily lives. They'd somehow put aside years of animosity and just accepted him for what he was. He knew there was little reason for him to remain here with them any longer – he was recovered completely and could certainly live on his own. But they hadn't mentioned his leaving, and Snape wasn't about to ruin a good thing by suggesting it himself.

So he watched, and he envied, and he yearned to belong to someone like they belonged to each other.

##########

"Come out to the pool with me," Harry suggested to Hermione as they lay in bed one sweltering night in early August. It was too hot to sleep, and they'd been lying side by side in the bed, naked, not touching, the very act of breathing causing them to sweat.

"The pool? This late?"

"Look at the moon. It's bright as day out there," Harry said, and indeed, Hermione could see through the window that the moon had lit up the night with a beautifully eerie light.

"All right," Hermione agreed. She slid out of bed and opened a drawer to find her suit.

"You won't need that," Harry told her, slipping up behind her and snaking his arms around her waist. She felt his already-hardening cock press against her arse cheeks.

"But what about Severus?"

Harry moved aside a hank of hair so he could kiss her lovely neck. "What about him? He's probably asleep. We'll be quiet."

Hermione pressed back into Harry's erection. "I'm wearing my robe until we get outside," she proposed.

"Suit yourself," he said, intending to walk to the pool starkers. If Snape was up and about, he'd get an eyeful, but it wasn't anything he hadn't seen before.

The water was soothingly cool as they slid into it. Harry took Hermione into his arms. Her skin glowed in the ethereal moonlight, and he couldn't keep his hands from roaming over her or his cock from nudging between her legs, seeking entrance. They kissed for a time, wrapped in each other's arms, Harry frotting greedily, Hermione clutching his arse cheeks and dragging him closer.

Harry's mouth left her lips and trailed down her neck, stopping to nibble on her collar bone, then dropping lower and taking one swollen nipple between his lips. He worked her sensitive nipple with only his lips and tongue, knowing that teeth were too much for her, until she was moaning out her want. He moved to the other and gave it the same attention. Hermione's fingers wound their way through his hair, holding him in place until she felt like she could come just from that, and she pulled him up into another hungry kiss.

Harry wanted to devour her where she stood. He pulled away from the kiss to gather his tenuous self-control and instead pulled her into a tight hug. Resting his cheek on her hair, he looked up at the moon. A movement from inside the house caught his attention, and he stared briefly at the window in question.

"Hermione," he whispered into her ear, knowing that windows were open in the house, "I think Snape's watching us."

Hermione shuddered, then made to pull back, but Harry held her tight. "Should we go back inside?"

"Is that what you want?" Harry asked. It wasn't what he wanted, but he would, as always, respect her wishes.

"No," she confessed, pulling back enough to look into his face.

Harry's eyes were shining with the lust that had increased two-fold since discovering they had an audience. "If he's going to watch, we should give him a good show, don't you think?"

"Isn't that just a little cruel?" Hermione asked, hesitant. "I mean, he's all alone, and . . ." she trailed off.

"You could go invite him to join us," Harry suggested, closing in again to nibble an ear lobe.

Hermione's hands came up out of the water and grabbed the sides of Harry's head, pushing him away so that she could look into his eyes. "I've been thinking about that," she admitted.

"You, too?" Harry asked, pleased.

"He's dead sexy," Hermione said. "I bet he's gorgeous under all those clothes – wiry and sinewy and strong. And they say men with big noses are well-endowed in other areas."

Harry's face lit up. "He must have a monster cock when he's hard! I mean, I've seen it, when I changed his pajamas, and it was pretty impressive even when sleeping." His own cock felt huge now as it bobbed between them, swollen with need, pulsing with the desire for release. "Oh God, Hermione! I need you."

Harry pushed her to the edge of the pool, where the depth was such that his face came level with the pool deck, and he hefted her up onto the side, pushed her legs apart gently, and buried his nose in the folds of her vagina. Hermione threw her head back and groaned loudly.

Inside the house, Snape's eyes widened at the sudden move, and his hand slipped its way into his pants. He'd been unable to sleep due to the heat, and had gotten up to get a glass of water. He'd looked out the window and then stood glued to the spot when he discovered what was going on in the backyard.

Harry's tongue worked its way as deeply into Hermione as he could force it at this angle. He reached up and opened her further with his fingers, baring her clitoris to his view and a direct assault by his tongue. Hermione gasped and pushed herself into his ministrations, coming quickly, as he'd intended.

Inside the house, Snape's cock was harder than it had been in a long time, and he stroked it firmly as Hermione threw her head back and came on Potter's tongue. Through the slightly open window, he heard her cry out in her orgasm, and he pulled down on his balls to stop himself from coming with her.

Hermione dropped back into the water and slid down Harry's body, slowing so that Harry could direct his needy cock into her. She lowered herself onto him slowly, the feeling strange in the water. She'd just come and should have plenty of lubrication, but the water made her feel somewhat dry. When Harry started to move inside her, that extra friction, rather than being uncomfortable, made her want to orgasm again immediately.

"Oh Harry!" she moaned, dropping her mouth to his shoulder and biting gently.

Harry began to thrust up into her, and Hermione's legs went around his waist. The water around them began to thrash as Harry's movements became frantic. He clung to Hermione but kept his eyes on that window, suspecting that on the other side, Snape had what was likely an impressive cock in his hand as he watched them coupling. He wished he knew how close Snape was, because he wanted to come together with the watching man. Harry hoped he was ready, because there was no holding back his own orgasm now, and he exploded up inside Hermione with stream after stream of hot spunk, shouting nonsense words with his release. Hermione, almost overstimulated now, came again and again, or maybe continually, while he rode out the waves of his release.

They clung to each other, breathing heavily, until Harry pulled his softening cock from Hermione, causing her to shudder against him. "Do you think he'd want to . . ." Harry asked.

"I don't know. We don't even know if he likes men or women or how he'd feel about a threesome, especially with the two of us. If you're serious about this, we can just . . . watch him. See how he reacts."

"Oh, I'm very serious. He's so fucking sexy, and I miss what we had with Ron. Or what we could have had with Ron, I guess would be more correct, if he'd been willing."

"I think it's too soon to approach him now. We'd probably scare the shite right out of him," Hermione guessed.

"But soon, right?" Snape was right here, under their noses, and now that he knew they both wanted the snarky git, keeping his hands and his thoughts to himself might prove difficult.

"Soon," Hermione promised.

Harry marveled at how lucky he was to have this girl – she was so beautiful and smart and talented, and she had a wickedly adventurous sexy side. He pulled her close and whispered into her ear, "I love you, Hermione Granger."

Inside the house, Snape cleaned up the evidence of his activities and watched them cling to each other in the water. Physically sated, his chest and guts felt tight, empty. What the two Gryffindors had was something special and wonderful – he could see that even from this far away. That he would never have anything that even approached that was driven home to him as he stood in this darkened room, spying on love. He sighed at his maudlin thoughts, then got back into bed to attempt once again to sleep.

##########

Life became a pleasant sort of torture for Snape from that point. His housemates became increasingly casual with their affections towards one another. What used to be kisses that were little more than pecks to a cheek or lips became open-mouthed, tongue-involved wrestling matches, in Snape's presence. What used to be casual, brief touches turned into blatant caresses and even downright groping. On more than one occasion, Snape had to leave the room when they got involved to avoid embarrassing himself. If they guessed that he was going into this room or the loo to toss off, they never said anything.

Snape could not explain their behavior. He'd known they were involved before, but they'd always been respectful of his presence and behaved accordingly. But now they didn't seem to care that someone was in the room with them. Either they'd lost all their inhibitions or they had some ulterior motive for their behavior. But if it was the latter, what purpose could be served by driving Snape to distraction with their overtly sexual behavior? Were they playing with him, teasing him, flaunting what they had to someone who had nothing? Neither of them had been cruel to him at all, and he didn't think they would do this to him, but he was at a loss to explain just what was going on here. Because he didn't understand and he was inherently cynical, he suspected the worst, and reacted to them accordingly.

##########

"We have to do something," Harry said several days later, running a soapy flannel down Hermione's back and over her arse. "He's been completely impossible to live with."

Snape was snarky on a good day. Since they'd initiated their less than subtle campaign to seduce the older man into their bed, he'd been downright horrible. He'd retained nearly the same level of irritation with Harry that he'd exhibited back in school, but since coming to live with them, he'd been much more respectful of Hermione. Now he was scalding them both with his temper.

"I'm sure you've noticed he leaves the room every time we get started with each other," Hermione said, stealing the flannel from Harry's hand and running it over his erect cock, then down over his balls. "We're probably driving him spare, and he likely doesn't have any idea why."

"So it's time we made it plain," Harry stated boldly, catching her hand and stilling it before he got too far gone.

Hermione sighed. "I think you're right. The way it's going now, he's going to hex one of us before we can get across to him what we want."

"So, how do we do this? Do we just walk up and say, 'Excuse me, Professor, care to shag? No, not her or me – her and me.' Speaking of hexes – "

"I think we could be a little more subtle," Hermione said with a smile, pressing her body close to his. "One of us should approach him, sort of feel him out."

"That should probably be you. You know how he feels about me. If I approach him first, he's going to think I'm joking or playing a prank or something."

"All right," Hermione agreed. "Wish me luck."

"You're going to do it now?"" Harry squeaked.

Hermione shrugged. "No time like the present. But first, let me wash that mop of yours."

##########

"I didn't hear your usual dissonant warblings in the shower, Mr. Potter," Severus noted when Harry, his hair still wet, entered the kitchen.

Before Harry could puzzle out what he meant and then respond, Hermione stepped in behind him. Her hair was also wet, and as Severus looked from one of them to the other, it didn't take him but a moment to figure out that Harry had been too busy in the shower for singing. "Oh," escaped from his lips before he could stop it.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look. Harry nodded, then left Hermione to it.

Harry retired to the bedroom, hoping he'd be joined there soon by Hermione and Severus. He wondered if he should strip and arrange himself provocatively on the bed in anticipation. His cock began to harden at the thought, and he forced himself to keep his clothes on, sit on the bed, and wait patiently.

##########

An air of discomfort hung in the air after Harry left. Severus, who had been sitting at the table with a cup of tea and a periodical, stood up now and placed his empty cup in the sink.

"I didn't mean to disturb you," Hermione said, stepping in front of Snape to prevent him from fleeing.

"You haven't . . ." Severus started to protest, but stopped when he realized just how close the young woman was standing to him. "What are you doing?"

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" she asked, looking up at him, all guileless brown eyes and faux innocence.

Severus Snape could never admit that a mere girl-child had enough power over him to make him uncomfortable, but he couldn't seem to form words, so he shook his head in the negative.

And then things got even more bizarre. Hermione reached down for Snape's hand and encircled it with her own. She stretched up on her toes and planted a kiss on Snape's lips. It was more than a friendly kiss and less than a passionate kiss, but it was definitely a kiss. Despite his shock, Snape found himself kissing her back, seemingly unable to resist.

When she pulled away, he looked down at her in confusion. "What is this?" he asked, bewildered.

"I like you, Severus. I want to get to know you . . . better." Hermione threaded her arms around his waist and pulled him close, pressing the lower half of her body against his.

Snape's arms, seemingly of their own volition, encircled the girl's waist. He felt himself growing hard and thought he should pull away from her before she discovered his shameless reaction, but she put paid to that thought by grinding her pelvis against him.

"Miss Granger . . ." he began.

"Hermione," she corrected, her voice a sultry whisper, nuzzling her nose into his armpit.

Snape closed his eyes and lowered his nose to her hair, inhaling her rich feminine scent. "Miss Granger, as much as I might appreciate what you are offering, and as much as I might be interested in accepting your offer, I find, surprisingly enough, that I am unable to betray Mr. Potter like this. I cannot do this to him."

A second male body stepped up behind Hermione and pressed itself up against her back. His arms went around both Hermione and Severus, startling the other man.

"How about you do this with him?" Harry suggested.

Severus' head shot up and he met Harry's eyes over the top of Hermione's head. It was immediately obvious that the young man was not joking, but Severus had to ask. "Are you serious?"

"Are you interested? In having both of us, I mean?"

Hermione moaned as she felt Snape's hard cock shifting against her. "Oh, I'd say he's interested." She reached down to run an appreciative hand over the large bulge.

Snape's breath caught in his throat, but he forced himself to ask, "Both of you? Together?"

Harry nodded, then reached up over Hermione to kiss Severus, demonstrating that he was, indeed, serious about this offer.

"I think we should take this discussion to the bedroom."

##########

Severus Snape had never thought of himself as shy before, but now, as he was led to the bedroom by two people half his age, he felt like a blushing virgin bride on her wedding night. He wondered how long he'd have to enjoy this dream before he woke, alone in his own bed.

When they arrived in the bedroom, no one spoke before Harry set to the buttons on Severus' shirt. His fingers were nimble and quick, and he kept his eyes trained on Severus' while he worked. Once he had the shirt unbuttoned, he pushed it off Severus' shoulders by running his hands up over the man's pectoral muscles, palming both nipples roughly. Behind him now, Hermione pulled the shirt down off his arms and tossed it aside. She then stepped up to his back and pressed what Severus could feel were her naked breasts up against him. Her arms came round to the front, and Harry directed her hands down to the button and zip on Severus' trousers. She worked both open with a minimum of trouble, then pushed his trousers down over his hips. Harry finished taking them to the floor. Severus could only stand there, drowning in sensation, as he was tag-teamed by these two incredible creatures.

Down to his pants, Severus felt a blush creeping over his cheeks at the way Harry was looking him over. His very hard cock made an impressive tent in his pants, a tiny wet spot forming at the apex. Harry reached out with one finger and touched that single spot, causing Snape's cock to jump vigorously.

"May I?" Harry asked, sliding just the tips of his fingers under the waistband of Severus' boxers, a hand at each hip.

Severus tried to speak, found himself incapable, and nodded instead. Reverently, slowly, as though he were revealing a great historical treasure to the world for the first time, Harry pushed Snape's underpants down, being careful to raise the material completely up and over that glorious prick, then let them fall to the floor. Harry went down with them and ended up on his knees. His mouth mere millimeters from the end of Snape's desperate cock, he licked his lips and looked up at Severus.

Trapping Severus' even darker than normal eyes with his own dark green orbs, Harry extended his tongue and touched it to the bead of pre-come which had formed at the slit of Snape's cock. Snape shuddered and used every ounce of control he had not to thrust himself rudely into that teasing mouth. He had manners – he could wait for an invitation. Fortunately, that invitation wasn't long in arriving. Harry opened his mouth as wide as possible and surrounded Snape's hardness with moist, devastating heat.

Snape couldn't stop the small involuntary thrust forward that brought the head of his cock into contact with the back of Harry's throat, and he just knew at that moment that he was going to embarrass himself by coming eagerly and way too soon, like a thirteen-year old virgin with a Knockturn Alley pro. He wanted to stop it. He wanted to enjoy what Potter was going to do to him for a very long time. Perhaps this was a one-off, and he'd never have this chance again. But he hadn't been with anyone in years, and two overwhelming things happened simultaneously: Hermione's hands came around him again, one of them circling the base of his cock, keeping it steady for Harry's plundering mouth, and the other dropping lower, to cup and fondle his balls. And Snape looked down at the messy black head bobbing up and down on his prick, which he was sure had never been harder in his life, and he thought, Harry Potter is sucking my cock.

And that was all it took. Snape exploded, his entire body feeling as though molten lava was coursing through it. The initial purge seemed to last forever, and the aftershocks went on for what became an excruciatingly pain/pleasure-filled time. Once most of his release had left him, Snape's cock quickly became sensitive, and he wanted to pull it out of Potter's mouth, but he also wanted to leave it there forever because skirting on the edge of pleasure and discomfort made him feel so . . . alive, like he hadn't been in a very long time, maybe ever.

Finally, it was over. Harry seemed to sense the exact moment when Snape needed him to let him go, and he released Snape's now spent cock, placing a gentle kiss on the limp shaft. Snape thought it possible that if Granger hadn't been holding him up from behind, with Potter providing a counterpoint by resting his head against Snape's groin, he would have collapsed to the floor.

He now found his voice. "I am sorry," he said. "That was . . . embarrassingly fast."

Harry looked up at him. "We're not finished," the boy promised. "In fact, we're only getting started."

Harry began to rise to his feet, so Snape held out a hand in an offer of assistance. Harry took it and rose gracefully. "You are delicious," he said, running his tongue over his bottom lip.

Snape felt his blush again. How did one respond to that?

"Did you save me any?" Hermione asked from somewhere behind Snape's back. She'd let him go, causing him to immediately feel the loss of her warm body and cushy breasts.

Harry grinned mischievously at her around Snape. "Sorry. You'll have to get your own." Harry playfully slapped Snape's arse, making the older man jump. "On the bed with you," he ordered.

Snape glared down at him, so many things wrong with this situation that it was hard to pick one thing to snark about. "First of all, Potter, you haven't removed a single item of clothing, yet I am standing here before God and country in nothing but my birthday suit. That situation must be remedied." He cast a look over his shoulder and said, "That goes for you as well, Miss . . ." He stopped when he realized that she was, in fact, already half-naked, and merciful Merlin was she gorgeous. He turned his back to Potter to face her fully, his eyes raking up and down her form, taking in pert breasts topped with large, hard nipples, just the way he liked them, a slim waist, and flat stomach. Her jeans were unzipped, and through the open placket he could see a thatch of pubic hair that was much lighter in color than the hair on her head. She was perfection, and he couldn't help but stand and stare.

"You're drooling," Harry observed, humor in his voice, and he reached up to close Snape's mouth, which had dropped open while he looked his fill. "And you're still not on the bed," which earned him another playful slap.

Snape whirled back around, the swaying of his beautiful package as he did so attracting Harry's attention. "Second of all, if you don't stop striking me, I shall turn you into a centipede."

Harry snorted while reaching out to cup Snape's cock. "That would be dead useful. I could crawl into all sorts of interesting places then." He lifted his eyebrows twice in an attempt at a sensual leer.

"Third of all," Snape said, ignoring the juvenile innuendo successfully but having a much harder time ignoring the boy's hand on his member, "I am significantly older than you. I am no longer capable of multiple orgasms."

"Pish!" Harry disagreed. "You don't know what you're capable of. You've never been with me and Hermione."

"Hermione and me," Snape corrected.

Harry looked at Hermione. "Do you believe this? Bloke's correcting my grammar, after I just gave him the best blowjob he's ever had."

"Cocky, eh, Potter?"

"You're not denying it," Harry pointed out. "And you're still not on the bed." He raised his hand as if to back up his observation with another show of physical persuasion, but dropped it when Snape glared at him. Then he chuckled, not one bit cowed. "Please, Professor Snape, would you care to lie down on the bed while Hermione and me undress."

Snape nodded once, then moved to the bed . Once he had himself situated, he couldn't help but say, "It's Hermione and I."

Harry pointed a finger at him in mock anger. "That's it. Just for that, you've got to watch the next round."

Snape thought that sounded acceptable, and he started by watching Harry undress while Hermione rummaged in the bedside table drawer. Harry himself was a pleasure to look at. He wasn't muscular, but he was wiry and solid, and his muscles rippled under his skin as he moved. His chest was speckled with dark hairs, with a more concentrated ring surrounding each nipple, and he had an enticing solid line of hair leading from his belly button down to the larger patch of hair at his groin. His erect cock, bigger than Snape would have expected based on Harry's short stature, flopped up and down while Harry hopped around the room, trying to free his foot from his jeans.

"Taking off your trainers first would have helped," Snape observed helpfully from his place on the bed.

"Git," Harry muttered as he finally freed himself of the last of his clothing.

Completely unclothed now, Hermione stretched out on the bed beside Severus, stretched up, and kissed him. Snape surrendered to it and hardly noticed when Potter landed on the bed beside her.

"Sorry, Hermione," the boy said, "I think I need a quickie first." He positioned himself between her legs. "Snape's got me all hot and bothered."

Hermione pulled away from the kiss with Snape and looked up at Harry. "Go ahead. I'm ready. Won't take much."

Harry positioned himself at her entrance, pressing only the head of his cock between her moist folds. He looked at Snape and nearly came at the lust he saw there in the older man's eyes as he watched Harry and Hermione together. His eyes still on Snape, Harry slid all the way in, then had to close his eyes as pleasure which started from the tip of his cock shot through his body, out through his fingers and toes and up to the ends of his hair. Harry started to slowly move in and out, delaying as long as possible the moment when he would have to pick up the pace.

"Severus," Hermione said, "come here."

Snape scooted closer to her body, and Hermione directed his head to her breast. Snape closed his mouth around her large nipple and began to suckle.

"No teeth," Harry ground out, his mind mostly on his own task. "She doesn't like teeth."

So Snape didn't use his teeth. He worried the nipple with his tongue, clamped his lips around it and massaged it, pulling gently. One of Hermione's hands found its way up into his hair as the pace of Harry's fucking increased, making her breasts jiggle with the movement. Snape lay a hand on her stomach for support, until he felt Hermione push it down to her center. Using a single finger, he found her clitoris, pressed it against the cock pistoning inside her, and was rewarded when she cried out immediately in orgasm.

Using that as his cue, Harry's pace became frantic, and a mere moment later, he came hard inside Hermione. Snape backed his head away enough to get out of the way and removed his hand so that it wasn't crushed between their pelvises as Harry lost almost all control during his orgasm, but not so far that he couldn't watch Harry's face intently while he came.

When he was finished, Harry collapsed atop Hermione, panting heavily. "That was brilliant," he gasped out. He opened one eye and looked at Snape. "You ready for the next round yet?"

Much to his surprise, Snape had hardened while watching the two youngsters and participating to the extent that he had. He looked down at the hard cock lying on his stomach, then back up at Harry. "I am."

"What would you like now?" Harry asked.

What did he want? Severus hadn't been with a man or a woman in a very long time, and he wanted it all. "I want everything," he said.

Harry snorted. "You might have to pick one or two things for now. We can do the rest of it later. Or tomorrow. What do you want first? Do you bottom? Would you rather have Hermione? Or me? We'll give you whatever you want."

Severus thought about this offer. He wanted to bury his face between Hermione's legs. He wanted to suck Potter deep into his throat. He wanted to bury his cock to the hilt in Hermione's twat, or her arse, or Potter's arse. He wanted Potter to bugger him six ways to Sunday. So many possibilities, so little time.

Harry watched him struggle with the decision for as long as he could stand before he rolled off of Hermione and toward Snape. "How about," he suggested, "we make a Snape sandwich? You, in Hermione. Me, in you."

"That sounds . . . acceptable." Which would be a shoo-in for the Understatement of the Year contest.

Harry rolled over on top of Snape and began kissing the man. Snape could feel the young man's cock, already hard again after his very recent orgasm. Ah, youth. Snape's own prick was correspondingly interested, and he frotted against Harry's stomach while trying to suck the boy's tonsils out.

Harry pulled away after a nice, long kiss. "We need to prepare you," he said. "Roll over."

Snape did, dumping Harry back onto the bed. Hands pulled his arse up off the bed until he was canted at a rather undignified angle, face pressed into the pillow. When he felt small, feminine hands caressing his buttocks, he forgot to be embarrassed about his position and just surrendered himself to the experience.

Harry lay crossways on the bed and worked his head into the space under Snape's belly and began to nibble on the end of Snape's cock. The hands on his arse turned into a lube-covered finger, which circled his hole repeatedly, then pressed gently on the center, slowly entering his tight channel, then withdrawing, then entering again. She'd obviously done this before, and Snape spared a moment to wonder for whom. Then she entered him with two fingers and he was no longer capable of wondering or thinking, only feeling.

By the time she had him thoroughly prepared, Harry had him on the cusp of orgasm again. Hermione took Harry's place on the bed, and pulled Snape on top of her. With one sure slide, he was inside her, surrounded by her pulsing heat. He was grateful he'd come once already, because he likely would have shot his load immediately. Before he could grow accustomed to that sensation, he felt Potter kneel behind him, forcing both his own legs and Hermione's legs to open further.

"We're going to need a pillow under Hermione's bum," Harry observed.

They accomplished this without Severus having to separate from Hermione, and then Harry was back behind him again, pressing his cockhead against Severus' entrance, pushing gently but inexorably. Once his head breached the tight ring of muscle, Harry paused to let Snape adjust to the intrusion. "Okay?" he asked.

"Move, please, Potter."

"Manners, I like that," Harry said before pushing further into the welcoming heat. When he was fully seated, he stopped again, both for Snape's comfort and to gain control of the raging need he felt to pound Snape into the mattress.

"Potter," Snape growled.

"All right," Harry agreed, and he began to move. He tried to go slowly – he didn't want to hurt Hermione after all.

"All right down there?" he managed to ask.

"I'm . . . oh, yeah," she groaned as a particularly hard thrust from Harry drove Snape at just the right angle and depth into Hermione. "Do that again!" she demanded. So he did, again and again and again until he was mindless with the motion. Hermione came first, crying out, "Fuck!" just before she let go. The men fell like dominoes after that, Hermione's orgasm milking Snape's and Snape's pulling Harry's from the soles of his feet.

They lay in a heap, panting, until Hermione said, "Can't . . . breathe."

Harry pulled out of Snape and lifted up so that Snape could pull out of Hermione and roll off her. Harry settled between them, spooning up against Snape and pulling Hermione tight against him. Snape put an arm over both of them and a leg over Harry's and fell asleep almost instantly.

##########

Snape awoke a short time later, sure that he'd just had the most amazing dream. A pressure and weight on his right arm drew him fully awake to the realization that it had not, in fact, been a dream. He was actually in bed with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, all of them naked and covered in seminal fluid, body parts intertwined. He watched his two bedmates sleeping, the urge to hyperventilate coming upon him. He drew in a deep breath to hold off the panic. What, exactly, was going on here? Okay, he'd had sex, repeatedly, with two former students, both of whom were young enough to be his children. And it had been spectacular, and he'd like to do it again, over and over. But would they? When they awoke, in bed with their vile former professor, would they jump up and run screaming, scrubbing their memories of what they'd done earlier? Would they hex him and accuse him of imperiusing them? Maybe he should get out of here now, while he still had a small shred of his dignity and all of his limbs.

In order to make his escape, though, he needed his arm, which was currently lodged under Potter's very warm dead weight. Cautiously, slowly, centimeter by centimeter, he began to work himself free. He'd almost made it when Potter's eyes blinked open.

Snape stared down at him, aware that the moment of truth had arrived. He couldn't run now, unless he wanted to look like a complete coward, which, truthfully, was beginning to look like an attractive option. Until Harry smiled sleepily at him, his eyes glowing with happiness.

"You're still here," Harry said, wonder in his voice, and he rolled onto his side, into Severus' embrace, snuggling in until his head rested on the older man's shoulder. Once he'd settled himself, he sighed happily.

"Did you think I'd leave?" Snape dared to ask, his heart beating a strange tattoo.

He felt Harry shrug. "I thought maybe you'd regret what we did. I know we're not exactly your favorite people."

Should he confess now that Harry and Hermione actually were currently tied at the top of his Favorite Person List? Nah – better keep that to himself for now. "I find your level of annoyance to be tolerable at the moment."

Harry chuckled. "That's good," he said, still sounding sleepy.

They lay quietly for a time, Severus running his hand through Harry's hair, which the young man seemed to like if the way he was craning his neck up into the contact was any indication. If Potter was a cat, he'd be purring.

"May I ask you a question?" Snape suddenly asked.

"Mm hmm."

"Your relationship with Ronald Weasley – did you – was he – Have I replaced Ronald Weasley?"

Harry's body stiffened with tension for a moment, but Snape continued petting him, and he eventually went limp again. "You haven't replaced Ron, no."

"So you didn't have a sexual relationship with Mr. Weasley?"

"No, I didn't. Hermione did, and I had a sexual relationship with Hermione, but Ron wasn't interested in anything more than that. He could hardly tolerate me in the bed with them, and the one time I touched him, he nearly came unglued. Hermione and I both wanted someone we could share things with, but Ron is straight as a plank."

"And is that what drove him away from you?"

"What drove him away," Hermione offered from her side of the bed, "was the fact that when he forced me to choose between him and Harry, I wouldn't give up Harry."

Harry rolled away from Snape, leaving the older man feeling suddenly cold, and rolled into Hermione's embrace. "Sorry, love. Did we wake you?"

Hermione kissed Harry on the forehead and ruffled his hair playfully. "It's all right." She stretched her arms above her head. "We can't stay abed all day." She looked over Harry at Snape. "How are you, Severus?"

"I am . . . well," he said, meaning it.

##########

Snape had had a very good day. Still flying from the unexpected sexual experience he'd shared with his housemates, he'd flooed to Hogwarts early in the afternoon, under Harry's invisibility cloak and at the invitation of Minerva. He'd spent two hours traipsing about the Forbidden Forest with his oldest friend, collecting several potions ingredients. They'd then repaired to her quarters, where they'd shared half a bottle of really good scotch. When Snape came through the door, he was very happy and very mellow, and he was met by a strangely eager Harry. "You're back. I . . . dinner's ready."

"I should like to bathe first. Is there time?" Snape asked as Harry solicitously helped him to remove his traveling cloak.

"Um . . . sure. I guess. So long as you're quick. Everything's hot now."

Something about the boy's excitement told him that this was no ordinary meal. Snape stared down at him. "Don't tell me – you cooked."

Feeling oddly shy and proud about it, Harry dropped his eyes. "Mm hmm."

Snape snorted loudly in derision. "You? Do you forget that I've witnessed your proficiency with mixing ingredients together with an intended goal in mind? Do you actually think I'd subject myself to your pathetic attempt to put a meal on the table?"

"That's not funny," Harry muttered.

"Oh, I assure you, I was not trying to be 'funny'."

Harry looked up at him, his eyes swimming in a sea of hurt, which caught Snape by surprise. "Fine," he said, and he let Snape's cloak slip through his fingers to the floor before turning and leaving the older man standing in the hallway watching him go.

##########

To be continued . . .

Note: The song Harry sings here is Come Back to Me, from "On a Clear Day You Can See Forever"