Chapter title from "All the Small Things" by Blink 182.
This chapter is pretty fluffy, with some nods to some comfort tropes. I felt the need to underscore that even though these four are hot together, they are also together because times suck and they just need to feel cared for.
"Mr. Longbottom..." Snape began slowly. "Care to tell me which of your misadventures left you with such an impressive souvenir upon your face?"
The tall, thin boy stared sullenly at his Headmaster with his mouth half gaping as always, but his posture was resolute and looming, as if ready to pounce if provoked. It was rather amusing. And foolish. Typical Gryffindor grandiosity. Snape was becoming used to dealing with such nowadays, since he was sharing nearly all aspects of his private life with one.
"Not feeling chatty today, Longbottom? Perhaps I should fetch the Professors Carrow and arrange a matching set of souvenirs for you?"
Severus glared at the boy, whose eyes did not meet his any longer but were instead transfixed upon the sword of Godric Gryffindor, gleaming within its gilded glass case, surrounded by the watchful eyes of Headmaster portraits lining the walls.
"Look at me when I am speaking to you, Mr. Longbottom."
The boy's hazel eyes narrowed into defiant slits as he reluctantly obeyed.
"Now, once again. The Carrows sent you to my office to address your continued impertinence in spite of their obvious corrective measures. Exactly how many instances of corporal punishment do you plan to endure before you focus your attention on your education and away from whatever vigilante games you and your little friends so love to play? We are merely a month into term and you just experienced your fifth detention. Perhaps expulsion is your ultimate goal?"
"No, sir," the boy replied dully. "But only because expulsion would mean one fewer person here to stand up for what's right."
Longbottom flinched, as if he expected Snape to hurl a jinx in his direction. The boy wasn't even worth the effort. Weak— average at best. Born mere hours before Potter. He very easily could have been The Boy Who Lived, had the Dark Lord chosen to interpret the Prophecy in a different way. If the Dark Lord had targeted the Longbottoms instead of the Potters...
Severus always became trapped in the damned "what-if" every time he stared into the bumbling face of Neville Longbottom. And the bumbling face would fade as Severus entered his mind's eye, replaced with a face of beauty and pure goodness, its breath of life snuffed out faster than a rush of wind barreling toward the flame of a candle. A hollow shell— closed eyes laid meekly against Severus's chest— forever a monument to crushing guilt and regret. He would grit his teeth and hurl the memory back to from where it came, open his eyes, and be faced with the infuriatingly blank stare of Longbottom once again. And he would lash out at the boy with everything he had. But not today.
"Longbottom," Snape began tersely. "These acts of bravado you find so deeply gratifying do nothing but stroke your broken ego and ensure more unsightly scars. Resistance is futile and will only heap more suffering upon yourself and those you claim to protect. You stand zero chance against the Dark Lord and those who serve him. So focus on your studies, keep your head down, and follow the rules. If you are sent to my desk again, I guarantee you will not find me in so genial a mood."
The boy blinked. "That's it, then? You're letting me go?"
"Yes. To Professor Slughorn. Perhaps he might need a fresh supply of disemboweled horned toads. I seem to recall you had some practice with that a few years ago, and it was actually something at which you were rather successful. I shall alert him to your impending arrival."
The boy still had a defiant twitch in his jaw, an annoyingly Gryffindor trait that Severus noticed in Black on more than one occasion.
"You are dismissed, Mr. Longbottom."
The boy rose slowly and made his way toward the door, never turning his back on Snape.
"You won't win, you know," the young wizard said quickly, his voice surprisingly measured. "You think you will, but you won't. You'll fall when he does. And I won't be sorry."
"Slughorn's office. Now."
Snape wasn't about to justify the boy's dramatics with an acknowledgment. The boy would hang himself soon enough. The Carrows were merciless. Snape did what he could to mitigate their effects, but if Longbottom was foolish enough to continue in his open rebellion, then the boy would deservedly suffer the consequences. He'd been warned.
Severus sighed and pushed his stack of Ministry reports aside, staring at the surface of the polished wooden desk in front of him.
"A rather soft touch today, Severus. For you, of course." A light, airy voice danced through the office air, and Snape simply gave a glare in its direction.
"Things must be going well on the homefront?" the voice continued.
Dumbledore's portrait eyes twinkled behind half moon spectacles— nosy, presumptuous. Severus did not respond save for a slightly raised eyebrow. Apparently that was enough.
"Ah, good. I'm glad you decided to spend some nights away from the castle each week. It does no good to dwell on the unhappiness here when you are constrained from doing anything about it. And I did find the accommodations here in the Tower a bit ostentatious sometimes. There's a great deal of merit in a cozy, comforting home. And a lover's embrace, of course. Tell me, how are your dear companions?"
What in Merlin's arsehole is this?
How? How did the man know? Did he have a fucking crystal ball like Trelawney up there in the afterlife? Did the pervert watch it all like a memory in the Pensieve? Maybe he was still a Legilimens even in portrait form. The past week had been an incessant hum of "Severus...Severus...SEVERUS!" in Snape's mind along with the angelic eyes and plump lips of Colleen Black twisted in an orgasmic reverie. The Muggle was so deliciously sensitive— a fact that liked to haunt his fantasies. But apparently when relishing that thought, Severus was going to have to occlude, even in the solitude of his own office.
"Everyone is fine," Severus replied quickly.
"Very good. I won't keep you long. I just wanted to inform you that it seems Miss Granger has brought our friend Phineas Nigellus along for their journey in her enchanted pack, and he will be informing us of Potter's movements along the way. There will likely be some tasks I will need you to complete to ensure their safety. And you'll want to bring updates to your friend, of course. Put his mind at ease."
Friend?
Severus still balked at the word. They'd been face and balls deep in each other's wives with one another right there, yet the word "friend" still left a bitter taste in Severus's mouth. It wasn't really the correct term. But neither was "enemy" and certainly not "lover." Perhaps "rival?" But with some sort of alignment involved— a partnership with a certain base level of trust, but fueled by the need to take possession of what belonged to the other, while simultaneously taking pleasure in watching the other reclaim it themselves. Whatever it was, it could only be born out of times as chaotic as these; they just weren't thinking normally or rationally.
Two weeks had gone by since Rhiannon's birthday. Severus wasn't home the first few nights after the encounter, as school discipline by the Carrows had escalated quickly, and the headmaster had thought it best to sleep in close proximity if the need arose for subtle interventions. Phineas Nigellus Black wasn't the only portrait he and Dumbledore were utilizing; they'd set up a whole network of portrait spies designed to be Snape's eyes in dark corners and make sure nothing got out of hand. With Severus gone, Rhiannon had assured him that she would not pursue the Blacks on her own. She was loving and loyal, and she only believed in love and sex magic born out of honesty, full consent, and respect. Anything else would venture into darkness and defile the energy she'd worked so hard to create.
On the nights Severus had spent in their seaside abode, Colleen's eyes had been full of expectation— throughout the evening meal and in the living room during after-dinner chats. She was always the last one to retire for the evening, waiting around for the last possible second to see if anyone would initiate another liaison. Severus found it rather comical— the silly, desperate Muggle girl.
Severus and Rhiannon had been too preoccupied with the Death Eaters to focus on extracurricular activities, although the summons themselves had fortunately stopped. The Dark Lord was away on a quest to solve what he called his "little wand problem" — terminology that never failed to send Rhiannon into a fit of giggles whenever she thought about it. Ever since the night the Order had transferred Potter, the Dark Lord had been obsessed with figuring out why his spells of destruction against Potter never worked, and he'd departed Malfoy Manor to delve into wandlore and discover whatever tool he would need to end the boy once and for all. In his stead, he had left a trifecta of leaders: Snape over matters of the school and the Order, Yaxley over the Ministry, and Bellatrix over offensive battle strategy, which was fanciful language for her current efforts to attack and destroy the lives of innocent Muggles. The pages of the Prophet featured Muggle killings almost daily, and Colleen tortured herself pouring over them. Severus had noticed that instead of growing more fearful, lately she had just grown more angry.
"I just want it all to end!" she had exclaimed, throwing Ben's box of Muggle cereal down so hard she sent O-shaped grains flying all over the table. "Why do we all have to just sit around waiting? Why can't we just fight?"
Her husband had clapped his hands and beamed at his wife echoing his own frequent sentiments.
"You may win battles with that strategy, Mrs. Black, but you will never win the war," Severus had explained, slipping the newspaper out from under her voracious and masochistic gaze. "Now stop polluting your mind with facts you can do nothing to change. Go prepare the ingredients for the anti-venom."
He found that keeping her busy with Potions kept her from spiraling with worry, and he had come to rely on her skills in the Potions room like a chef would rely on a talented sous chef on a busy weekend night. Snape not only brewed for their own household, but also the battle supplies for Hogwarts and other Order members' households, which Lupin would deliver under the guise of brewing them himself. Between Headmaster duties and the regular Death Eater meetings that were scheduled in the Dark Lord's absence, Severus was grateful for the Muggle woman's assistance.
When Hogwarts classes adjourned that early October day, Severus ensured all students' safe arrival for dinner in the Great Hall. He then departed for Malfoy Manor, forgoing dinner himself. He would prefer to eat whatever Colleen had waiting at home rather than the bland, watery, substandard fare now served in the Hogwarts kitchens. Rhiannon met him at their apparition point just off the grounds, and they entered together through the cold marble darkness of the Malfoy home. The combined dreariness of the school and the Manor had become as soul-sucking as Snape would imagine Azkaban, and he found he spent a great deal of his day thinking about the soft roses, sweet smelling pillows, and hearty meals of home.
"I hope it's a quick meeting this time," Rhiannon sighed. "I was thinking about inviting Sirius and Colleen to sleep tonight. I miss us all being together."
"You talk as if it's a common occurrence, Rhiannon. It was one time."
"And that was enough to make me miss it. I'd even be okay going without the sex part. I just want us all holding each other again."
Snape looked at her quizzically. He knew she craved the energy of her companions like a drug, but it was still hard to grasp. He couldn't imagine inviting the Blacks to their room just for a cuddle session.
"Ah, the Snapes. So nice of you to grace us with your presence...ten minutes late." Antonin Dolohov was standing guard at the doors to the marble drawing room, wearing a smirk that dripped of desperation for relevance. The dark wizard had been humiliated with torture just before the Dark Lord's departure, along with Thorfinn Rowle, for their failed attempt to capture Potter and his friends the night they fled the wedding at the Burrow.
"Perhaps if you were given any assignment of consequence and able to see it to its completion, you might not be so flexible with your own time, Dolohov," Snape returned coolly.
"I'll have you know today's assignment went off without a hitch and was the most fun yet," Dolohov replied with a grin. "Grabbed a bloke coming out of his 50th birthday party. Strung him upside down over a skip— summoned everything that fell out of his pockets— he was a right well-to-do ol' bloke. Watched the blood rush to his head for a bit, then sent him tumbling into the rubbish— it was downright rank. Immobilized him for a bit so he could enjoy the smell. Showed him what we think about Muggles celebrating being born."
"What a lofty task your mistress assigned to you, Dolohov— playing games at a Muggle's birthday party. You must be so proud," Snape said with a roll of his eyes. He slipped past the wizard and surveyed the table, taking note of heads, then reviewing them one last time.
"Where's Bella?" Rhiannon asked, echoing Snape's own thoughts without hesitation.
"She's feeling under the weather," Narcissa answered stiffly, indicating for the three of them to take their seats at the long table.
"Again?" Rhiannon asked bluntly. "She missed the last meeting too."
"I don't believe it's any business of yours, Mrs. Snape, since you're not even one of us," Bella's husband Rodolphus sneered.
Snape's eyes narrowed as he searched Narcissa's face for clues. It wasn't like Bellatrix to allow anything to interfere with her execution of the Dark Lord's bidding. Her sister sat stonefaced, however, as did Lucius.
"With Mrs. Lestrange's continued absence, might it be wise to appoint a new representative at the helm of martial strategy?" Snape suggested, reading the room immediately for reactions.
"No," Rodolphus answered quickly.
"It should resolve soon," added Narcissa.
Severus continued to press. "Our last meeting was two weeks ago, and she is still ill? Would she be requiring a potion from my stores?"
"We're brewing everything she needs here, thank you." Narcissa's voice was growing icy.
"I believe it's time for a report on the school, Severus," Lucius suggested.
Yes, their suspicious behavior certainly confirmed something was amiss. The remainder of the meeting passed uneventfully, with Severus granting the floor to the Carrows to grandstand regarding their new discipline program. With the Dark Lord gone, the Carrows hadn't resurrected discussion of their marriage law desire, clearly saving that for when they could get the most credit for it. A few Death Eaters eagerly offered up blatantly false tips regarding Potter's whereabouts, which Severus listened to with a bored expression. He noticed Rhiannon staring at Narcissa frequently.
Don't try to tap into her thoughts. She is sharp, and she will know.
Rhiannon promptly gave a frown and turned her attention to one of the Death Eaters offering a lead on Potter. He happened to be the blundering and ineffectual Felix Middlesworth, once-removed biological cousin to little Ben Black.
"I have it on good authority from the Hogs Head that Potter's been sighted in Hogsmeade on more than one occasion. I plan on making the Hogs Head the home base for my patrol, just in case he returns," Middlesworth spouted off.
Of course you would, you dotard alcoholic, Severus thought. No doubt the useless middle-aged lout had already spent every last knut of the hush-money Black had paid for Ben's return funding his habits at the pub.
"If we are quite finished with actual news and developments, I propose we adjourn for the evening?" Snape said, already standing and pushing his chair to the table. He held up his arm for Rhiannon without waiting for the others to confirm, and they left with no goodbye. The Dark Lord's absence from the table fortunately allowed them to skip small talk and pleasantries.
"She's pregnant, isn't she?" Rhiannon said quietly as they ascended the seaside cliff.
"Quite possible, it seems," Severus acknowledged. "Though we cannot jump to conclusions."
Rhiannon's gaze was fixed upon the trail, a mix of sand and stone, her delicate slippers kicking at a pebble as she walked. It was one of those moments where she seemed like a child again, as she did in those rare times where she allowed herself to actually feel pain.
"Don't dwell on it, Rhiannon. We do not have nearly enough information to allow your mind to trouble itself so. And she does have a husband, you know."
"Severus, you know better."
"I know nothing on this matter, and neither do you. I will not allow you to cloud your mind with emotional conjecture."
"I won't be able to forget it," Rhiannon argued. "If it's true, then that baby is my family."
"You are to do NOTHING that will reveal your parentage," Severus told her sternly. He knew her mind was already racing with some kind of master plan to rescue her perceived flesh and blood from the clutches of his or her rightful parents. "This is not your concern. Do you understand?"
"I understand that I'm your wife, not your child, Severus, and I'm tired of you treating me like the latter."
"Perhaps if you didn't behave like one, I wouldn't," he replied through gritted teeth.
They reached the rose-lined cobblestone path to the house, and Rhiannon picked up her pace to stalk through the door and straight up the stairs. Colleen and her husband were curled together on the sofa, both with books in hand, but they watched the witch disappear with a mix of curiosity and concern.
"Is she all right?" Black asked.
Severus shrugged. "She'll be fine. Sometimes being the Dark Lord's daughter presents its challenges." His eyes focused on the pair, and he realized Colleen seemed even paler than normal and was leaning weakly against Black's chest, his free hand gently rubbing over her stomach.
"What's wrong with her?" Severus asked suspiciously. Surely she wasn't suffering from the same affliction as Bellatrix.
"Cycle pain," Black answered, his hand now moving to his wife's forehead, smoothing her hair back from her face. "For some reason it's hitting her hard this time."
"Did you administer a potion?"
"Of course," Black answered with a scoff. "I know how to take care of my wife."
"Did you perform the spell along with it?" Severus pressed.
"There's a spell?" Colleen asked hopefully.
Severus drew a chair over by the sofa and took out his wand, settling down with a sigh. He gave a few murmurs accompanied by wand waves, then laid a hand upon her abdomen where her husband's had been. Colleen leaned back again and closed her eyes.
"Better, Mrs. Black?"
She smiled. "Much. And you and I have slept together, Severus. My name is Colleen, remember?"
The woman had reminded him over a hundred times now, but the formalities still slipped out. Severus made a move to stand, but Colleen took his hand and pulled him toward them.
"Will you stay?" Her light eyes pleaded with him, clearly desiring the comfort of both men. Black gave a small nod of permission.
Severus shook his head. "Rhiannon's upset and needs me as well."
Colleen looked disappointed but seemed to understand. Severus remembered Rhiannon's words from earlier, how she wished for another night in everyone's embrace. Apparently the women were on the same emotional wavelength tonight.
Severus hesitated but finally let out a sharp breath. "Just come to bed with us."
The words came out so quickly and awkwardly that Black made an exaggerated face as if pretending not to hear them correctly. But he smiled and gave a wink.
"Severus, I can't," Colleen began to protest. "Sirius just told you that..."
"No, 'bed' as in 'sleep.' Rhiannon said she wants everyone together tonight. And she said that even before she got upset. I'm sure it's even more true now."
A huge smile of relief washed over the Muggle's face. "Yes, I would love that, too. I've missed us."
"How about you, Severus? Have you missed 'us?'" Black asked teasingly.
Severus didn't know how to respond to such a ridiculous question, so he didn't even try. It was one thing to pursue sexual pleasure together; it was quite another to spend nights together seeking some sort of comfort. He wondered what the hell he'd gotten himself into.
"I'm going to get something to eat first," he muttered. "And bring a plate up to Rhiannon."
Black nodded. "There's chicken left over. New recipe. It was quite good. I'll take Colleen up and draw her a bath. Then we'll be in a bit later, all right?"
The man sounded way too sure about all this, as if it were perfectly natural for all four to gather in one bed. Severus had to wonder if this was common practice among the Marauders. It certainly wouldn't be surprising, all of them piled together like sleeping dogs.
Severus reheated the leftovers, already portioned onto plates for the two of them by Black and his wife. He placed them on the tray with a butterbeer for Rhiannon and an herbal tea for himself, then made his way to their second floor bedroom. Candlelight and steam flowed in from the adjacent bathroom, so Severus set the tray on the dresser and went to check on Rhiannon. Her golden hair was thrown atop her head, elbow resting on the side of the narrow tub, her other finger tracing the swirls of lavender and apricot oils that pooled atop the steamy water. Severus removed his clothes and slipped in, leaning against the opposite side, his legs entwined with hers.
"The Blacks are coming to bed with us tonight," he announced matter-of-factly.
Rhiannon's tired, sullen expression suddenly lit up. "They are? Thank you, Severus."
"Just to sleep," he added. "Colleen isn't feeling well."
"Oh, no. Is she...?"
"Monthly," he replied, and Rhiannon breathed a sigh of relief, saying she couldn't handle anymore news along those lines that night. Severus massaged her feet and legs silently, then the two of them dried off and changed into nightclothes before enjoying dinner. It was delicious as always and a welcome change after breakfast and lunch at the school. Severus hated to admit it, but there were plenty worse things in the world than domestic bliss with the Blacks, at least as far as meals were concerned.
Severus set the tray aside and pressed a kiss to his wife's lips, removing the clasp from her hair and situating the wild curls along her shoulders. He wanted to apologize for their earlier spat, but apologies did not come easily to him. He decided to try to explain instead.
"I don't see you like a child because you're incapable or immature," he began. His thumb stroked her cheek. "Only because your heart is so tender that I want to shield it from pain."
Rhiannon nodded. "I understand, Severus. And I love you. But sometimes I need to feel what I feel, and be trusted to act on my own accord."
Severus closed his eyes and pulled her to his chest. "If something goes wrong, and I lose you..." he trailed off, unable to think on that possibility for more than a second. He imagined all the years of pain over Lily, but more raw and fresh, and strengthened by the fact that his love with Rhiannon was fully realized, bonded, and returned. Severus wouldn't be able to bear it, and it would kill him.
"I know, Severus. But the answer isn't to shield me from everything, including my own emotions. You've got to give me some room. Just like the day I saved Sirius; you didn't want me to go, remember? I had to duel you to get you to bend. If you hadn't, he'd be dead. Colleen would probably be alone in London raising Ben, and we never would have known them, or found this house. Sometimes I get things right, you know?"
Severus couldn't believe that "getting things right" meant sitting in a big house by the sea, waiting for Sirius Black and his wife to burst through their door and nestle with them in their bed. But here they were.
"Are you all right, Rhiannon?" Black asked as soon as they entered. The wizard strode to the side of the bed and bent down to the witch, running a gentle hand over her silk clad knee.
She nodded. "I'll be fine. I'm glad we're all back together. Colleen, how are you feeling?"
"Much better," the redhead said with smile. "Sirius gave me a potion and Severus performed a spell. I feel sorry for Muggle women with no wizards or witches in their life. To think I used to lay on the couch for an hour waiting for a pill to take effect."
Colleen reached to untie her robe and slipped it off her shoulders, revealing a dark green nightgown that dangled alluringly from her curves. Severus's arms yearned to take her, but he held back. Every encounter was a new territory to be navigated, with new rules to be established. It seemed there would always be an awkwardness in the air waiting for it all to begin.
Black removed his own robe, bare chested beneath with thin black pajama pants that did little to hide his excitement at being a foursome once again. He crawled onto the bed and pressed a quick kiss to Rhiannon's lips before settling in the center of the mattress, waving for the remaining two to join. Colleen took Severus's hand with a smile and pulled him over, settling next to her husband and pulling Severus to her side. Severus took advantage of the invitation and caressed her soft stomach, his hand then appreciating the way the silk clung to her breasts and allowed her nipples to peek through as he rubbed them with his thumb.
"Missed her, Sev?" Black asked with a grin. The man clearly got off on knowing that Severus wanted what was his. Rhiannon settled on her stomach with her head on Black's chest, her hand smoothing over the muscles of his torso.
"Did you miss me, Severus?" Colleen asked for confirmation with a shy smile, her plump lips daring to be kissed as she nibbled at them. So he did. It was easier than thinking of a retort for their teasing questions. The Muggle's hand came up to play with Severus's hair, and he slipped his tongue into her sweet mouth, caressing hers gently, feeling the vibration of her gentle moan. Colleen's fingertips toyed with the hem of his flannel top, snaking beneath it to rub his back. Severus kissed her a few seconds before opening an eye to survey the other two, who were watching them with sly grins. Black's hand ran over the curves of Rhiannon's behind, while her fingers traced the lines of his tattoos. Black caught her hand and pressed a quick kiss to her fingers.
"If we're 'just sleeping' tonight, everyone's hands and tongues need to calm the fuck down," Black declared with a laugh.
Black extinguished the lights, and Severus rested his cheek against the cool green silk of Colleen's nightgown, allowing the softness of her body to slowly carry him into sleep. He felt Rhiannon's gentle touch trace along his arm, Black's right arm securely around the witch, his left linked through Colleen's with their fingers laced.
Severus hated the fact that this felt so damn right.