It was perhaps the greatest mistake three people could ever make.
Threads of web connected them all, interweaving their lives together with such intricacy, one tug could undo the entire construct and reveal their complex lies for what they were; making everything they had done all the more enticing.
Draco watched, enthralled by the scene happening before him, as Theodore Nott Jr, his best mate in recent years, undressed Hermione Granger. He was uncomfortable, shifting restlessly in his armchair, spine rigid against its high back as he sought comfort, but at the same time, he couldn't look away.
Theo had been the first–and only– man Draco had ever been with. But that had been years ago. A curious boy's game in the inky shadows of their dorm, when pleasure in darkness was better than the numbness of their regrets.
Now, as Draco stared at the limitless expanse of skin upon skin before him, Hermione's dark honey complexion against Theo's red, rugged, and flushed under-the-sun-tone, he felt something inside himself stir. Not just the rush of blood to his cock.
Theo kissed Hermione the way Draco wanted to be kissed. He could see the wet, almost indecent shift of Theo's tongue slipping into Hermione's open mouth, their lips snagging between each other's teeth in an attempt to devour each other. Draco shifted in his seat to relieve the tightness of his trousers which became even more restrictive when Hermione's moan rocketed through him like a bolt of lightning.
"You can leave anytime you like," Theo murmured against Hermione's skin loud enough for Draco to hear him. He wasn't speaking to Hermione, who by the looks of her had no intention of leaving. Theo's hands were everywhere. Draco could hear the soft skin of Theo's palms hums the distinct song of skin exploring skin.
Hermione's eyes snagged Draco's gaze, pulling his attention to her. It struck him like a blow to the chest, knocking all the air from his lungs with just how fucking beautiful she was. She curved in all the right places, her soft flesh against Theo's thighs hugged him like she was moulded for him. Her mouth was swollen and parted, eyes dazed from Theo's rapt attention. Theo took her nipple into his mouth and Hermione melted against him, making Draco shudder from his stuttering breath through to his toes.
"I should-" Draco said hesitantly, more to himself than to them. He sucked in a shaky breath. "We shouldn't be doing this."
"Whatever happens in this room, stays in this room, mate," Theo murmured. His voice was a low tremor followed by a low groan as he laid Hermione back onto the bed. Theo's eyes roamed her body, tracing her with his gaze as Draco had been doing while studying them.
Without his permission, Draco's hand slipped into his trousers and closed around his throbbing cock. He sighed in relief at the contact, feeling the mounting pressure inside him melt away. It was so much of everything all at once. Relief, pleasure, guilt, adrenaline, want, need, anguish, desire. His skin felt like livewire and all he was doing was watching them.
"We're all married," Draco whispered, his fist slowly moving up and down his shaft.
"Tell me," Hermione peered at him as she spoke, her voice slightly muffled against Theo's skin, "Are you happy in yours?"
"Just because you don't know where your husband disappeared to tonight, doesn't mean it's the same for all of us," Draco replied snarkily. But whatever he had hoped to accomplish by being snappy with her was all for naught. Hermione's eyes were fixed on the excruciatingly slow movement of his hand, his fingers rimming the swollen, sensitive underside of his head, his toes already curling in his shoes from the intensity of her attention.
"So," Hermione turned away from Theo and onto her side to settle her curious eyes on Draco's misty ones, "you love your wife?"
Theo snickered then shot an apologetic glance at Draco, his mouth twisting with contrition. Hermione looked over her shoulder at Theo, asking him wordlessly to answer the question in lieu of Draco.
"The marriage was arranged by Lucius," Theo cupped his hand around his mouth and stage-whispered it into Hermione's ear conspiratorially. "The Greengrass fortune with the Malfoy fortune for future generations, or something like that."
Draco hated talking about them. His family. He despised his father and he disliked his wife; even as beautiful as she was. They had had sex once, drunk on their wedding night, forced to consummate for the magical contract to come into effect. From the moment he had slipped into her, all he could think of was how much he had regretted giving in to his father's pressure.
"If you want to watch," Hermione shrugged her free shoulder, "watch." Her arm was stretched behind her, absentmindedly rubbing along Theo's thighs and hips that were slotted into the back of hers, memorising the feel of his skin the way one would the ridges of a painting when they wanted to be swallowed by it.
"If you want to join," Theo lifted an eyebrow, his eyes trailing down the length of Draco's arm where his hand was wrapped around himself, "join."
"I don't mind," Hermione encouraged. Theo's hand skimmed over her hip and dipped to the inside of her thighs, fingers pressing into her soft flesh. "I'd do anything to forget tonight and this party ."
"Tonight's party?" Draco asked, perplexed. He was confusing what she had said as words that applied to what was happening in this room now. As Theo's fingers slipped into her wet cunt, the obvious shiny slick of her on his fingers caught the light of the room and made Draco's cock throb in his palm.
"Not this," Hermione clarified, looking back at Theo with a smile, "I want to remember this ."
Theo brought his fingers coated in her to his lips and tasted it; Draco could see his obscenely wet tongue curl. Jealousy rose in Draco's throat and mingled with his self-abhorrence. He couldn't untangle the visceral reaction within himself; unable to tell if he wanted to either be the one tasting her, or to be her being tasted by Theo, or to be Theo who now knew what Hermione's cunt felt like. He didn't know.
His hand tightened around his shaft with more certainty now, gripping the underside of his head with every stroke and sending sparks of ecstasy through his limbs. In the battle between what his mind wanted, and what his body wanted, his body won.
"I'm staying," Draco said quietly, lips tingling with every unsteady exhalation. Theo smiled at him and Hermione sighed happily, letting herself fall flat onto bed. Draco watched as Theo repositioned himself above Hermione.
Spreading her legs so Theo's body could settle between them, she hooked her ankles around Theo's hips to hold him there. Draco could see everything, and with his hand on his cock, it felt absurd as though he were Theo, positioned above her, cock pressing into her wet entrance.
The moment Theo slipped into her cunt and they both gasped and moaned in relief, Draco felt panic slap his attention back into focus, running coarsely through him like shards of glass in his veins. He stood up abruptly; again, his body reacting before his mind was aware.
"I have to go," he forced himself to say. Oxygen refused to fill his lungs, and blood unwilling to return to his brain.
He didn't look back as he shut the door behind him, and ensured his cock wasn't standing free of his trousers. The Floo was down the corridor. Draco sprinted the length of it, found the pot of Floo powder, groped at the loose grains for a handful, and threw it haphazardly into the fireplace to return home to the Manor.
The halls were cold and empty; something he had grown used to. Just now that his blood was searing through his veins and his skin was clammy with sweat, it felt like death.
Nothing like the room he had left moments ago where suffocating heat had enveloped his entire being. Where he felt alive and surrounded by life. He longed for it and simultaneously was terrified of it. What had they discovered?
What had they done?
What were they still doing without him?
Draco stumbled through the corridors until he reached the wing of the Manor he shared with his wife. The bedroom was empty. Astoria had left the party earlier that night, and Draco's own infidelity tainted his thoughts of his wife.
Where was she? Was she doing to him right now what he had just done to her?
The urge to splash cold water on his face overcame him. He opened the bathroom door adjoined to their bedroom and paused when he saw Astoria, soap suds covering the surface of the bath and clinging to her chest in a fluffy cloud-blanket, her eyes shut and dark hair dripping water onto the tiled floors.
"Hello, dear," she said, her voice a little slurred, "Nice of you to be back so soon."
When Draco didn't respond, she opened her eyes. Finding Draco at the doorway, her body went stiff, losing all languidity of her limbs. He smiled at her, hoping to put her at ease, but smiling between them was rare so it only served to alarm her. Smiling now didn't work. She continued to stare at him like a threatened cat. Draco could practically see her haunches raising at the sight of him.
Deciding it was best to give his wife space, he retreated to the bedroom where he stripped himself of his slightly soiled clothes and climbed into bed smelling of sin. He had closed his eyes, mind racing, unable to fall asleep because of his stiff, stubborn cock. He heard her come into the bedroom, slippers dragging across the carpeted floor, and then felt the mattress sink as she sat on the bed.
They had been married two months, and he was yet to sleep with her again; he hadn't touched her once since their wedding night.
It wasn't that he found her unattractive. She was a beautiful raven-haired woman, creamy-skinned, and always smelling of roses. But Draco craved emotional attachment. He needed it.
From the moment they were engaged, he couldn't connect with her detached, robotic nature. It wasn't for a lack of trying. She shied away from his touches, and he learned quickly that smiling served no purpose.
He wanted to want her.
She was his wife.
The words that tumbled out of her mouth next felt like a dream.
"Draco," Astoria said with hesitation peppering the two syllables, "I think we should have sex."
Draco's eyes opened and he stared at the ceiling for long seconds, waiting to hear her repeat it so it didn't sound like a lie. If he fucked his wife, would all his heinous thoughts of his best mate fucking a woman who wasn't his wife leave his mind? Would it abate the painful erection throbbing against his stomach, begging him for attention? Begging for anyone's attention.
"Draco, it's been months-" Astoria's voice came in a whisper, reaching across the chasm in bed that nestled between them.
Draco didn't hesitate. He rolled onto her and she immediately parted her legs for him, her nightgown falling to her hips. He pulled her knickers to the side, and without so much as kissing her, sank into her and found her wet and warm.
She was so soft as he pressed his body against her, he marvelled for the minutes he spent watching Theo and Hermione; he could easily imagine that this is what Hermione Granger's cunt possibly felt like. This was what Theo's cock would have felt earlier tonight.
And as Astoria gasped the harder he thrust, he buried his mouth against her throat and felt his balls tighten, pleasure tainted by the taste of his marriage thrummed through him as he came. It wasn't what he wanted, but it was what he had.
If it were Hermione or Theo beneath him, Draco envisioned himself kissing them on their necks, shoulders, cheeks, faces, before finally rolling onto his back, a smile across everyone's faces.
Draco didn't kiss Astoria. He didn't feel joy at the act he had just committed.
Instead, he played on repeat in his mind the sensation of slipping into Astoria, and overlaid it with the image of Theo sinking into Hermione. His cock didn't soften before he fell asleep.
And by the silence beside him, he suspected that Astoria lay similarly awake. Statues chained together until death do they part.
—
In the following weeks, Draco avoided Theo. It was a difficult task given that his best mate had a habit of showing up unannounced whenever he liked to access the–as he called it– much more superior resources that the Manor offered to his ever-busy mind.
Theo loved to read, and the Notts' library was lacking because Nott Sr had never been a fan of old knowledge or retaining it, and saw no value in collecting what he deemed useless. Draco had long ago granted Theo free access to Malfoy Manor for his whims and fancies.
Now, Draco wished Theo would go to the library and then promptly fuck off once he had obtained his new choice of reading material. Theo, however, did not ever do as was expected of him. That night weeks ago proved as much. Draco could hear Theo's footsteps shuffle around outside the drawing-room door, probably debating whether to come in or not.
It would have to be by force, because Draco had spelled the doors shut.
Theo knocked instead.
"Draco, we need to talk," Theo said against the door. Draco sighed, shifting in his chair as his body thrummed hot then cold against his will to the sound of Theo's voice.
Draco clenched his jaw, then once the muscle ticked with strain, he forced his body into relaxation by inhaling deeply through his nose.
"We don't," Draco said from his chair, knowing his voice would be lost to the barrier of the door. Even he could hear the muffled strain of his vocal cords.
"I knew you were in there," Theo said triumphantly. "You been avoiding me, mate? Let me in."
Draco heaved a breath for patience. Hesitantly, he got to his feet and walked to the door; he didn't want to shout through the room lest anyone hear him–that's what he told himself– he decided he should let Theo in. But Draco didn't want to open the door either. He didn't know what he would be inviting in.
"Theo," Draco whispered his name, pronouncing it the way he always had in its native French cadence, putting his mouth as close to the door as he could without kissing it. "We can't talk about it."
"I know you," Theo whispered back, "I know you're thinking about it and that's why you don't want to see me-"
Draco yanked the door open and grabbed Theo by the collar before shutting the door again. Theo had to look up slightly to meet his eyes, only half an inch shorter than Draco, his chest heaving and breath hot on Draco's face.
"There," Draco hissed, "You've seen me. I'm not avoiding you. Now would you please stop coming here?"
"Hermione wants to see us," Theo said, unflinching from Draco's unwavering menace.
Draco's stomach dropped, then his heart ricocheted in his ribcage as he tried to suck in what little oxygen was in the air.
"Have you been meeting ever since?" Draco asked him, jealousy rising in his throat like bile, bitter and rancid. He didn't know why he was jealous. Hadn't he left them alone that night and come home to his wife? Was he jealous that Theo had been with Hermione? Or jealous because Theo had chosen Hermione, and not him? More complicatedly, did the jealousy belong to the knowledge that Hermione had slept with Theo, and now knew exactly how Theo's cock felt?
Draco wanted to get lost between them and figure it out.
No.
Draco shut the questions he was too afraid to think about–let alone answer–away.
"No," Theo shook his head slightly. Relief washed through Draco in a powerful wave; his heartbeat slowed, his breathing evened. "This will be the first time I'm seeing her since…"
"Why does she want to see me?" Draco asked, trying to appear disinterested and doing a poor job at it, "I left. I didn't participate."
"I dunno, mate," Theo grinned, "Let's find out, shall we?"
"When?" Draco asked, his eyes dropping to Theo's curling lips. They were still close enough that Draco could smell a little whiskey on Theo's breath. Liquid courage, perhaps.
"Saturday," Theo answered, his eyes also dipping to Draco's mouth, "for lunch at a hotel in muggle London."
—
Draco didn't make it a habit to venture into muggle London. He loathed the noisiness of cars and the business of the people; the way they didn't care to look where they were going, and counted on everyone else to get out of their way. And when rain fell, it made the smells of the city thick in the air, suffocating him with muggle aromas that stank of human existence.
The hotel was short, only rising about five storeys high but occupying most of the city block. The lights along the lobby made the marble interior look sleek. The restaurant was low-lit and elegant with a sense of romance that Draco was sure would be perfect for any normal couple.
They weren't a normal couple. They weren't even a couple.
Draco scanned the room for who he simultaneously craved to see, and hoped wouldn't be here.
There he was. Theo; the back of his head easily identifiable by the crown of dark curls. Draco's stomach did a flip and his heart began to drum against his chest. It was just Theo. Draco was okay to start like this.
"I'm glad you came."
Her voice made him jump, and instantly warmth spread through his veins, pumping to his fingertips and toes. Draco met her brown, almost amber gaze and found her smiling.
"Hermione," Draco said, swooping down to kiss her cheek, and then going so far as to kiss the other. Another French habit he failed to shed after summers with Theo getting lost in the countryside. He wanted to sink into Hermione's mind to find out why she had invited them here; but it wouldn't have been fair to Theo; leaving him in the dark when they were both–well all three of them–in this together. Hermione kissed his cheeks automatically in response, and he found the sensation of her lips left a shadow of their warmth in their absence.
"Shall we?" she asked, then linked her arm into his to reinforce their connection as if they had always been friends, and guided Draco to the bar where Theo was nursing a whiskey.
Draco slid into a stool at Theo's side, but then Hermione wedged herself between them, beaming excitedly.
"I want to begin by thanking you gentlemen for entertaining a lonely woman's whim," Hermione said secretively, her voice lowering to a whisper so they had to lean closer to hear her. She turned around and bent slightly forward over the bar to get the bartender's attention and Draco couldn't help but let his eyes wander her curves, then he glanced up and found Theo doing the same.
"What are you drinking, Draco?" she asked, smiling over her shoulder at him. Draco had a sneaking suspicion she had caught two pairs of eyes on her and she was quite enjoying herself.
"Cognac," he muttered in response. He watched her flirt with the bartender, something he had never seen Hermione do before. Watching her baffled him. All that he remembered of her was her bookworm existence, her ambitious climb in ranks at the Ministry, and general no-nonsense demeanour. He didn't know her outside of work, or outside of her marriage, and looking at her smiling, and flirting, flaunting her curves in a beautiful black dress, made him dizzy with whiplash.
Draco paid just enough attention to hear Hermione say she liked her gin on the rocks. Theo shifted as though about to move to offer her his stool, but Draco saw him hesitate, neither of them sure of proper etiquette, and slipped off his stool first. Hermione hadn't noticed the silent tug-of-war happening and was happy to find the men had made space for her. She settled in with her back to the counter and her drink in her hand.
"I think I should just get right to it then," Hermione glanced at Draco then Theo.
"I thought we were never going to speak about it," Theo said softly. Draco nodded slightly, agreeing.
"Turns out, I can't keep either of you out of my mind," Hermione smiled delicately. "And I've never been more content than when I'm thinking of you. I believe it is quite difficult to make me happy presently. But both of you have opened a brand new world. You freed me of my own expectations. And I want to keep finding contentment, if you'll help me."
"You're married," Draco blurted; his stupid mouth getting his stupid way. He wasn't not interested in what she had to say, but no one seemed to be remembering their vows.
"We're all married," Hermione nodded once, bringing her drink to her lips and swallowing two quick mouthfuls without flinching. Draco knew gin was bitter and sharp, unlike his woody, soft and sweet cognac. He could practically feel the sting of the gin on his tongue just by watching her glistening lips and the delicate skin of her throat as she swallowed. "I want us to be together."
Theo sputtered on his whiskey and Draco held out a cloth napkin; an automatic reaction he'd always had when it came to Theo. Draco loved caring for him. Theo dabbed it to his mouth, then his watering eyes.
"Together, as in together?" Theo asked instead of Draco because the words were thick in Draco's throat as his body hummed in anticipation of the rest of the conversation. "I'm expecting a baby with Panse-"
"I don't expect us all to leave our spouses," Hermione explained. Here was when Draco realised–without reading Hermione's mind–that she was attempting to be pragmatic in her approach to the proposed affair. "I think Ron has been cheating on me, at the very least he's been unsupportive of my career plans and I can't remain with him for much longer. But you, Theo, love, I know you're committed to your child, and Draco, I don't expect you to want me-"
"I do," Draco coughed. He wet his throat with his cognac and let heat bloom in his chest like a flower opening to sunlight. He inhaled to better finish his sentence. "I do want you." He looked from Hermione to Theo. "I want you both."
Theo's shock was poorly hidden. It wasn't hidden at all. He couldn't look more shocked than if Hermione and Draco had poured their drinks over the top of his head.
"Mate," Theo looked from him to Hermione, an incredulous laugh bubbling out of him. Draco wondered how much he had had to drink while he was sitting there at the bar waiting for their arrival. "You want me? I thought- but then that means…"
"We'd be a proper throuple," Hermione said the word like she had just learned it and was unsure how to use it. "We'll take care of each others' needs. Needs that aren't being met in our marriages."
"It could be a scandal," Draco let his eyes meet theirs as he tried to convey what it meant. "If anyone finds out, we're done for. We'd never recover. Your career," Draco nodded at Hermione, "Your family fortune probably," he tilted his head at Theo, "and mine … My marriage was arranged by my father after all. I'd be disowned."
"Which is why I think we should all get a flat, or a cottage in the countryside," Hermione said quickly. Hermione had thought of everything. "Somewhere we can go to, to see each other when it isn't those bloody playdates or adult get-togethers we love so much." Sarcasm dripped off her sentiments at the end of her statement.
"I have a cottage," Theo whispered, "My mother's. She doesn't use it, and there's probably a stay-in house-elf I might have to free, but we can use it."
"Hold on," Draco blustered. He wanted it; them. It was all just moving so quickly. Theo and Hermione looked at him expectantly; there it was again. The absolute need to be with them both. It had never gone away, not after that night where he had watched them together and was too afraid of his own desires and confined by his marriage duty to join them.
Instead, he had gone home and blindly fucked his wife for the first time since their wedding night. Brilliant.
"Draco," Theo reached around Hermione and placed a hand on Draco's thigh, "it's either we're doing this, all three of us, or none of us are."
It was amusing how quickly they had become three together. The three of them. There was a them.
Draco downed the rest of his drink, threw what muggle money he had onto the counter with no concept of how much was enough and stood up. Theo looked crestfallen, Hermione looked amused.
"Shit," Theo said, thrusting a hand through his waves and mussing it into a poof. "Alright, mate. We'll go."
"Theo, love," Hermione placed a hand to Theo's chest to calm him, "Draco's about to lead us upstairs."
Draco loved that she could read him as well as she could, while he had no bearing on her at all.
"Yes," Draco admitted, feeling heat rise in his collar which he blamed on the cognac settling in his stomach. "Are you coming, Theo?" He settled his gaze on Theo who had gone from surprised and a little ashamed to suddenly rigid attention.
"I already got us a room," Hermione beamed at them then took each of their hands in one of her own and led them to the elevators. There was a couple already in the tiny metal box and Hermione, Theo, and Draco all stood stock still as the couple giggled and whispered like new lovers.
The elevator moved slowly, filled with thick air, affecting everything; the way they breathed, the way they could sense each others' presence like a physical pressure, the way time slowed. Draco's body was buzzing with anticipation and he craved to know what they would both feel like on either side of him, all skin and breath, flesh and curves.
Finally, on the fifth floor–the top floor, Draco remembered–the elevator halted. And like the couple, they stumbled out into the corridor. Hermione gave Theo and Draco an amused look as they navigated around the love-drunk pair and further down the corridor, when finally Hermione pulled out a card of some sort and slid it over a black plastic thing around the door handle. It lit green and she pushed her way in, standing aside to let the men in after her.
The room was quiet. There was a hum that filled the silence, not much louder than the ringing that would thrum through his ears on a day when bad weather was due to come in.
They stared at each other, three pairs of eyes roaming back and forth with their thoughts bouncing loudly between them. Draco could see their chests rising and falling with the force of their lungs. It was a gut punch, acknowledging that they were alone; that they had collectively made a decision and was about to act on it.
"I don't know what to do," Draco admitted, hearing the panic in his voice. How was being with the two of them at the same time supposed to work?
Hermione settled him with her steady gaze before stepping up to him and lifting onto her toes, her lips brushing against his. She tasted of bitter dry gin, and cherry lip gloss. Draco opened his mouth to hers, their kiss soft at first before she extended her tongue to brush against his teeth. Draco's cock was already stiffening with interest inside his trousers.
Hermione pulled away, breaking their kiss, and looked at Theo. "Now you kiss him," Hermione told him breathlessly, her lip gloss smeared across Draco's face in shiny streaks. Theo looked from Hermione to Draco before he did as he was told. Theo's five o'clock shadow snagged with Draco's invisible stubble, sending electric shocks from the scratchiness of his hair straight to his cock. He was rougher than Hermione, and much more urgent in his quest for pleasure. Hermione had to pull them apart once Theo's hand began to cup Draco's erection and squeeze.
"Bedroom, loves," she reminded them. She pressed a chaste kiss to Theo's lips before taking their hands and pulling them behind her. As soon as she crossed the threshold, she lifted her dress up over her head and left it in a pool at the foot of the bed; both men stared at her appreciatively.
The lingerie was almost black, and on closer inspection, shimmered forest green; the shape of it on her hips, the lace across her breasts were so snug on her body, it looked like paint. The men's breathing became shaky the longer they studied her.
Together, Draco and Theo converged on her, their mouths claiming parts of her skin as their own. They explored her; hands, breath, lips, cocks, pressing against her body before the two men made quick work of their clothing, relishing and rushing the process just to be nearer to each other.
Hermione's warm palms closed around their cocks and she laughed as Draco's teeth sank into her shoulder and Theo's hands clasped onto Draco and Hermione's waists, securing them together.
It wasn't clumsy or awkward at all. Being with them like this was enough. He wasn't jealous of anyone, he was happy.
Hermione pulled Theo to the bed, pushing him onto his back, and Draco watched as she took Theo in her fist, her arse in the air, legs parted and her pink, dripping cunt inviting his gaze; his touch. He did what he had only dreamed of doing and positioned himself behind her.
"Hermione," Draco's voice was rough, unrecognisable to his own ears, "Can I?"
Hermione pressed her lips to Theo's cock and her words came muffled to his ears. "Please," she begged.
Lining himself up with her wet slit, he pressed gently into her. Feeling her bare cunt against his cock made his mind go blank from the bliss of it, and he hadn't even fully slipped into her yet. Hermione relaxed, her spine arching so she pressed herself back onto him, and Draco increased pressure until his cock disappeared into her, sinking slowly into the tightness of her cunt, eliciting a moan from her throat with Theo's cock against her tongue. Theo's blue eyes were watching them with fascination as his fingers threaded through Hermione's hair, his mouth slightly parted in a gasp.
Draco couldn't think of words to describe the sensation of watching Hermione's cunt suck at him as he withdrew from her, a creamy ring already around his base before he sank slowly into her again. He could feel pleasure like lightning through his entire body, into his bones, down to his toes and back up to the tips of his ears. Even in the tingle of his lips.
Hermione pulled her hips away from Draco and climbed onto Theo. Draco was transfixed on where he had just been inside her, following her onto the bed, already craving her warmth around him; except now, he wanted to see them up close. Draco felt Hermione's saliva tacky on the smoothness of Theo's cock which throbbed in his grip as his blue eyes locked onto Draco beneath Hermione's thighs. Draco guided Theo's cock into Hermione and watched her sink onto Theo until she swallowed him whole.
Draco memorised the way Hermione's head fell back as she rocked her hips. Adjusting himself on the bed to sit beside Theo, he slipped his fingers onto her clit, stealing cream from Theo's base to slick the ball of nerves until her clit stood at attention for him. Hermione gripped Draco's cock and pressed her thumb to the underside of his oozing head as Theo thrust into her.
Her little moans and stifled sobs made him need to kiss her. Draco leaned into her until she turned her face to meet his. As Theo watched them, Draco tasted her as her hand pumped along his length and their legs ached from their collective effort. Draco made a ring with his forefinger and thumb around Theo's base and tightened it like a cock ring until Theo's eyes were rolling back into his skill and his mouth fell open.
"Draco, fuck," Theo pushed his forearm away with weakened arms. Draco released him, then brought his slicked fingers to Theo's lips, swiping it along his lips before Theo took his fingers into his mouth and sucked.
"Come on his cock, sweetheart," Draco said into Hermione's ear, "I want to hear you." His fingers pressed onto her clit in rhythm with Theo's thrusting and Draco could see it happening, his own excitement at their pleasure made his cock ooze freely into Hermione's palm which had gone still once Theo began pounding into her. Hermione screwed her eyes shut to gasp into the room, hypnotising both men as skin slapped skin.
Draco stared at them as they both came. He could see the red splotches blooming across Theo's chest and shoulders into his neck and cheeks as he gasped from the suddenness of his orgasm. Hermione trembled, spasming slightly, sinking completely onto Theo as Draco slowed his circles to gentle tweaks against her throbbing clit, coaxing her orgasm to the very end.
Hermione's palm was sweaty on Draco's cheek, pulling his face toward her to kiss him deeply. Draco loved everything about what they were doing, he never wanted it to stop. It was the first time he felt like he belonged somewhere, with someone–someones.
Hemione collapsed beside Theo and pulled Draco behind her. She found his forearm and brought his body up against her back like she was pulling at a blanket, and Draco felt his cock slick between her come-covered thighs before settling in the thick slick of Theo's come dripping out of her and into the sheets.
Her skin smelled of sweat, coconut, and cocoa. Draco inhaled it deeply as Hermione wound her hips back against his cock until he slipped into her already ruined cunt. A moan escaped her and was muffled by Theo's tongue. Draco watched them kiss, then felt Theo's hand between Hermione's legs as he worked with Draco to satisfy her.
When Hermione came, all of Theo's thick spend pulsed out around Draco and formed webs of white connected to his hips and her backside as he repeatedly sank into her. Hermione was so tight when she came, pushing him out of her with the force of her orgasm as she rippled and shattered between them. Skin on skin, sweat-damp and sticky, airtight and heartbeats thrashing, Draco bit into her neck and groaned as his balls tightened and he came so hard, he let out a cry of surprise.
Theo cupped his cheek and chuckled lightly. He was still inside Hermione, emptying an impossible amount of himself into her as Theo stroked a thumb across his lips, inserting it into his mouth for him to suck away the salt and sweat and Hermione's come.
"The next time," Hermione said weakly, "We'll meet at the cottage."
"When's next time?" Theo kissed Hermione's nose while Draco traced her side, up and down with the curve of her hips.
"Next two weeks?" Hermione suggested.
"Next week," Draco amended. Both his lovers hummed in agreement.
Seven months later, two babies were born.
Rose Granger-Weasley was born to Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. She bore a striking resemblance to her mother, her brown hair bearing sheens of red in the right light, with eyes that were coloured a darker shade than her father's blue. She was a happy child, her laughter often accompanied her wherever she went. Hermione fell in love with her at first sight.
Ronald wanted a son.
Scorpius Malfoy entered the world with balled fists and a tomato-red face; Astoria and Draco Malfoy were equal parts terrified and awestruck. The child was a surprise to the family–to Draco especially; the one time with his wife had resulted in a child. Draco hid it well and his family accepted the newborn with open arms. Grey eyes and white-blond hair made Scorpius the splitting image of Draco. Draco loved him instantly, made easier when there was no trace of his wife's features to remind him of how he was conceived.
Draco would never touch Astoria again.
Previously adding to their growing families, Theo and Pansy had welcomed Brutus Nott two months before the arrival of Rose and Scorpius; Brutus' eyes bright blue, and hair black and shiny like his mother's.
Theo found himself struggling to connect with his newborn; information he confided with his lovers in the months that followed. Dazed, sleep deprived, feeling delirious in their new journeys into parenthood, they confided everything.
Because of the war, there was a non-formal treaty often observed amongst the wizard folk in the form of gatherings, dinners, dances, even Quidditch matches.
The air stung her lungs as Hermione stared up into the bright sky before conjuring shades so she could see the loves of her life more carefully. The obscured lenses served two purposes: no one would be able to see her watching the men who weren't her husband, and she wouldn't be blinded by the sun by the end of the match.
Theo and Draco were winning, which meant Ron and Harry weren't. As much as they had all moved past the good versus evil, pureblood versus the rest narrative, it always ended up there again. Hermione held in her cheers as Draco caught the Snitch and grinned widely, watching Theo barrel into Draco midair to congratulate him before the rest of the team could.
Hermione longed to feel them, to celebrate with them.
"I'm gonna find Ron," Hermione lied poorly, muttering it so when Ginny actually saw her leaving, she didn't think anything of it. Harry was already flying toward Ginny, keeping the redhead's attention; and like Hermione knew her husband would, Ron was already sulking, sinking to the pitch with limp shoulders and a ducked head.
Finding Ron to comfort him was not on her agenda. Ron wouldn't notice her absence and would not care if Hermione actually tried to be there for him; nothing ever lifted his spirits after a loss anyway. Hermione listened carefully outside the changing rooms tent and heard nothing. The team must still be celebrating. She slipped in through the flap and then found the row of showers before ducking into one and pulling the curtain shut.
Hermione had made up her mind last week, and suddenly now felt like the perfect time to tell Draco and Theo about Rose.
She heard Draco and Theo break through the flaps of the tent together and held her breath, hoping intensely for no one else to follow. No one did. When the men's quiet laughs and low voices rounded the corner, she poked her head out to see Theo burying his nose against Draco's neck as they hugged and touched. She grinned at them.
Draco held Theo's chin and guided his gaze to their lover and unasked, they entered the cramped shower with her. Immediately, the scent of them enveloped her, filling her lungs and nose, tinting her taste buds with the perfume of grass and sweat, leather and broom polish.
It was never a problem between them; who got to kiss who first, who did what with each other while the other wasn't there, who loved who more. Over the course of her pregnancy, both men attended to her every need–more than her own husband. Ron, it seemed, had been terrified of children, or rather having children and Hermione assumed it was because he was a grown child himself.
Hermione kissed Theo gently, leaning into Draco's palm on her chest which felt like bare skin against her bare breast because of her thin t-shirt and sensitive nipples. Breaking their kiss, she turned toward the feeling of Draco's hot breath on her cheek where he had been waiting behind her, watching them closely and enjoying seeing them together as he had done for the first time so many months ago when he was afraid to embrace it and every time since.
Draco tasted like wine and sweat, and Hermione grinned against his mouth while Theo pressed a kiss into her neck.
"I want to have another baby with you," Hermione whispered. Both men pulled away to look at her, their eyes searching her face for her meaning.
"Another?" Draco asked, confusion on his face as clear as day. Hermione's smile was slow to unfurl, but wide.
"Rose…?" Theo asked her the incomplete question as it was already obvious.
"Rose is ours," she told them both, because she believed Rose belonged to all of them together, as they did everything as three, "I believe Theo got me pregnant the first night we slept together, and now I want to have Draco's baby, so we can share another."
Draco shot Theo a look. Theo, who had not had an instantaneous bond with his child born five months after they had begun their proper affair, appeared thunderstruck. He had met little Rose of course, when the new babies were being shown off to other parents, expecting and hopeful families who wanted to be a part of the joy.
And he loved her instantly, from the moment Rose's eyes settled on his. Rose's chubby finger gripped onto his chin and lip as she gurgled happily up at Theo, seeing her eyes in his. Hermione had known, and in the post-haze of giving birth and overwhelming love, she had hidden it from everyone by glamouring her baby's hair to have a red sheen in light, and tiptoeing around telling her lovers.
It wasn't the plan to end their marriages. Hermione didn't want Rose to be a catalyst.
Neither Theo nor Draco had hated her for bearing a child for her husband–when they had thought the baby was Ron's. They knew their positions and what role they played in their curated lives.
But Hermione wanted them to know she needed their roles to change for her going forward. She was no longer satisfied living half a life there and here. She wanted to be with them. The more she fell in love with her daughter, and the more she fell in love with Draco and Theo, the more she craved for their growing family.
"Will you do it?" she asked them when their silence went on too long. "Will you have another baby with me?"
"Now?" Draco teased, as Theo relaxed once it sank in that he had a child with Hermione. A child with an easy bond. A bloodline that felt like his; that was his.
"Now," Hermione said hopefully.
Hands found shoulders and cloth, palms and fingers peeled off Quidditch robes until they heaped at their feet. Draco was already hard by the time they turned the water to warm and Hermione's mouth was closed around Theo's cock. Water hit her reddened face and rolled down her neck onto her breasts, dripping in delicate jewels on her nipples.
Draco pressed his cock against Hermione's already occupied mouth, feeling Theo hot and throbbing against his head, and she flicked her tongue against Theo's head before switching from Theo's cock to his. The warmth of her mouth was searing in comparison to the gentle heat of water cascading onto their bodies. As Hermione swallowed him, Hermione watched Theo shift from beside Draco to get on his knees.
Theodore Nott Jr was excellent at eating arse. His strong palms parted Draco's supple arse and Theo inserted his stiff tongue into him, past the tightness of his entrance and then out again. Hermione had watched him do it before, and she was feeling the effects of it as Draco slammed into the back of her throat.
Hermione and Theo had mastered this sucking and fucking method and were fond of using it just to watch Draco fall apart at their mercy. Draco propped himself against the wall as Theo inserted two fingers into him and curled as his cock hit Hermione's throat and she gagged. Sputtering, she pulled away and grinned sloppily up to see him gasping as Theo worked his fingers in and out of him to prep him.
Hermione rose slowly and planted her hot lips on his, stealing Draco's gasps as he tried to keep strength in his legs. Hermione pulled Draco to her, lifted her leg, and took his hand in hers, placing it on her leg to hold her steady. Together they intertwined and supported each other against the wall. Draco ground his cock against her, already on the edge from their mouths and hands, clenching his jaw to hold onto his sanity.
Hermione guided him into her and powerful relief washed through her as he stretched her, filling her to her limit. Finally, Theo rose to his feet, standing behind Draco and slotted his legs between Draco and Hermione's tangle. Hermione waited as she felt Theo's cock slipping along their thighs, placing himself against Draco's entrance. She watched as Draco willed himself to relax, feeling him throb inside her as Theo slowly pressed into him and sank his teeth into Draco's neck.
"Fuck yourself on my cock, Draco," Theo whispered against his skin, tickling the sensitive part of his ear, "and come inside her. Give us a baby."
Draco moved as Theo guided his hips, using his tight grip to build a rhythm. As he withdrew from Hermione, Theo's cock sank into him, against his prostate, and as he thrust into the enveloping pleasure of Hermione's cunt, Theo left him gaping and wanting more.
Theo came before he did. Hot come pulsed inside him, leaving Theo gasping, swearing at the suddenness of it. His broken moan and breathy fuck, fuck, fuck was enough to drive Draco over the brink he was so carefully balancing on.
His balls tightened, the air was knocked from his lungs. Theo sank into him as Draco buried himself in Hermione who clung to him, holding onto his hips and back as she willing every spurt of come to empty into her and stay there.
Draco worked his hips, frustrated he hadn't lasted as long as they usually would. A loud pop of celebratory fireworks reminded them of where they were.
Draco disentangled himself from her and once he pulled away, he saw thick white spend slide down her thighs. Theo caught it on his fingers and brought it to his mouth before returning to his knees and taking Hermione's clit in his mouth.
Draco's cock throbbed, leaking come lazily down his shaft as he looked dazedly between Hermione and Theo as she came, eyes shut, mouth open in a silent cry, her fingers lost in Theo's hair. Draco swallowed her moans with his mouth, silencing her.
Later, they made love again, and again in a cottage under the stars, the summer winds warming their skin with humid gusts and creating steamy, sticky nights together.
Hermione loved them both so much, she ached when she was apart from them. Draco and Theo had burrowed beneath her skin and made a home there, taking the two halves of her heart and holding it together with their hands as her hand held half of either of theirs. She loved watching Draco sink into Theo, or having Draco bury himself inside her as Theo's cock choked her.
Where there had been neglect and loneliness in her life– their lives– there was now a satisfying swell of emotion behind her sternum, pumping painfully for them with purpose that rivalled only that she had known for Rose. Hermione had never known anything like it. It hadn't been her goal to love them. She had every intention of loving herself enough to allow herself freedom; it was never about them. But there they were, two men, two-thirds to her whole.
"Thank you, Hermione," Theo whispered one night as they lay tangled, shimmering dewy sweat coating their skin, panting as they caught their breath. Hermione's body still spasmed as her orgasm tapered off–her third orgasm for the night, but not her last.
"For what?" she asked, laughing, unable to think clearly.
"For making us happy," Draco answered. Hermione looked at them both, eyes drifting from Draco to Theo, and felt overwhelming affection flood her chest and choke her lungs. Her throat tightened as she gazed at them, and them at her.
"Thank you," she mirrored, voice soft and vulnerable, "For not thinking I was crazy."
"We were all unhappy," Theo nudged his knee against whatever limbs he could as a playful shove–it was Hermione's thigh–and inhaled like he was breathing fresh air for the first time. "Pansy and I tried to work shit out, and all we got was a baby who looks like her, and doesn't love me."
"It's a baby," Hermione said lovingly, cupping his cheek with her palm and smiling at Theo so he would see her sincerity, "Babies are weird little things. Maybe Brutus is a stuffy fellow like his dad."
"Maybe Brutus just doesn't like me," Theo countered. "For good reason."
"Don't do that, mate," Draco came up to Theo's side and pressed a kiss to his collarbone before trailing up his neck to his lips, "We said we wouldn't do that."
"Sorry," Theo brought his hands up, one into Draco's blond hair, the other to the base of Hermione's curly-crowned skull and hugged them. "I know we said we wouldn't say we regret each other."
"Because we don't," Hermione said firmly.
"Because we love each other," Draco added.
"I love you," Theo told them both.
"I love you, too," Draco and Hermione said together.
Hermione gave birth to Hugo Granger-Weasley, a boy with hair like his sister's, but with such pale blue eyes, they were almost grey.
—
The Ministry's family day event presented itself as the only inconspicuous opportunity for Draco and Theo to meet three-month-old Hugo. There had been a baby boom amongst all the newlyweds; other families were expanding, and everyone had a newborn child or toddler on their arm. The family day itself was meant for the adults, with babysitters being arranged to care for the children as the parents got to socialise.
At childcare drop-off, Draco held Hugo in his arms and kept a stoic face as he memorised his son's features. Hermione played with Scorpius and Brutus, Albus, Lily, and James, before kissing her children goodbye for the afternoon, knowing she would miss them for every minute of the evening.
Hermione had observed Ron with Brutus, and it only interested her because he was not like that with Rose; assuming it was because Rose was a girl and Ron craved a boy. Though when Hugo came, Ron didn't change much.
Worry creeping its webbing vines through her veins had forced her to wonder if her children looked too much like their actual fathers and Ron had realised the fact, resulting in his subconscious punishment for her discrepancy by withholding love from the children.
It was selfish of her to expect that he love children who weren't his. But in her fucked up puzzle, she wanted it to work. To continue living in their lie.
"What's wrong?" Draco asked her as they stepped into the lift to go to the basement where the party should be underway.
Hermione smiled at him, wishing she could lean into him and inhale his cologne; which always felt like falling into bed and knowing she'd have an excellent night's rest. Theo watched them from beside Pansy who was fixing her lipstick with a little hand mirror to assist. Hermione lifted her gaze to meet Draco's sharp grey stare and with her expression, granted him permission to read her thoughts. She saw the moment understanding dawned through him, and then his cold gaze settled on the back of Ron's copper hair.
He lowered his mouth to her ear under the pretence of fixing his collar. "I can tell you what he's thinking, if you ask him the right questions."
What good would it do? If all along he was having an affair, so was Hermione. So were Draco, and Theo. They were all guilty parties. All awful people.
But Hermione loved the two men of her life, and she wouldn't change anything. The mess she had created with them was their mess. Something all three of them had built and nurtured into the bond they had forged from broken pieces of marriages pieced together to make their union.
The Ministry's basement, otherwise cold and barren, devoid of anything warm or hospitable, had been transformed by cackling firepits, lounge chairs, a bar with a tired young wizard behind it, and trays of food haphazardly spinning through the air to offer up their contents.
Hermione chanced a squeeze at Draco's hand and smiled at Theo who she was yet to approach them for the night. Ron had already beelined to the bar, so Hermione followed him, eager for her first drink since having Hugo. As well as to catch her husband in a years-long lie–she reckoned anyway.
Draco nodded at her as Theo casually kept his eyes roaming about to watch their actions to avoid appearing too obvious.
"Ronald," Hermione said once she was at her husband's side. He tensed up at the sound of her voice, something Hermione was used to from him. "What do you think of all the other kids? Would they be good friends when they grow up, you reckon?" A shallow mother's question, but something to make his thoughts drift to where Draco needed them.
Ron shot her a wary glance. Hermione felt a shuddering heat rip through her and she knew that Draco had found what he needed. The sudden zap of magic that mysteriously, subtly, linked her to Draco and Theo, was vibrating, beckoning her eyes to him. Hermione was suddenly terrified of what he had discovered…
The air shifted so dramatically, Hermione knew it was information that changed everything.
"Yea," he said sluggishly. He always sounded slow, and Hermione had come to resent the way he spoke; as though he was being careful with his words, but it sounded like he was being purposefully stupid. "I don't see why not."
Hermione accepted her gin from the bartender and retreated away from her husband, to a safe distance apart to observe him. Astoria left a wife-shaped hole beside Draco's stoic stance in her absence, and Theo was still beside Pansy whose back was leaning against his chest and talking to him over her shoulder. Theo looked uncomfortable, but only Hermione or Draco would recognise the tightness of his mouth, or the very slight crease of his eyebrow that wasn't his 'I'm listening' face, but more his 'I want this to be over' face.
Draco came up beside her, feigning following a wildly rotating tray of finger food, and bumped into her, sending her drink spilling over her midsection and his thighs. He whipped out his wand as he muttered quickly and quietly–which to anyone looked like apologies and spellcasting between two friends–his discovery.
"Brutus is Ron's," Draco syphoned off the gin from her jumper. "Ron's been sleeping with Pansy for a full year before she got pregnant."
Rage was slow to build from the pit of her stomach, but once it caught, like tinder to a fire, it erupted from her with violence.
"Hermione, no-" Draco tried to stop her, already knowing she was about to cause a scene. But she couldn't stop it. How could that bitch hurt Theo that way? Hermione stood before her quicker than she could register where her feet were carrying her.
Ron's blue eyes darkened as he registered Hermione's presence, and then a second later they found the wand pointed at his throat.
"Why the fuck would you do it?" Hermione demanded. The general chatter of the party died down. Like dominos falling, pairs of eyes found her at the centre of the chaos, one after the other.
Ron stumbled back. Hermione could tell that Theo was looking at Draco with the question displaying loudly on his face. What's happening?
"Hermione," Ron raised his arms to show his defenselessness and bewilderment, "I don't know what you're-"
"Brutus isn't Theo's, is he?" Hermione seethed. She could feel Pansy and Theo shifting in the crowd, and Draco was already slowly inching toward her. She loved them so much, it seized her thoughts and coherency. Everyone stood like sentinels to observe the drama unfurling in real time before them.
"Look," Ron wet his lips, his eyes darting over her shoulder to undoubtedly look at Pansy because he had been caught with his pants down and cock shoved where it shouldn't be, "I don't know what Nott told you-"
Hermione clocked his panicked glance around the room and that's when she saw Pansy rushing forward to get between them.
Hermione had the inclination that Ron had been cheating for years, and in those years she pretended to sleep with her drunk husband to convince him that her two children were his to maintain a lie she had no reason to maintain any longer; besides Draco whose privacy, and duties in his marriage he seemed intent on seeing through.
Draco was still in a marriage he felt obligated to continue, so Hermione needed to protect him.
"What are you doing?" Pansy hissed. Hermione cocked her head at the woman who had hurt her lover. The two most vile people were in the direct line of her wand. She could hex them. Disfigure them. Make them hurt the way they had hurt Theo. Hurt them because they made Theo feel like an incapable parent to a child that didn't love him. A child he wanted to love and couldn't.
"Funny you should come to his rescue," Hermione whispered, though she could tell her voice was travelling around the room as everyone held their breath. A hand pressed onto Hermione's shoulder, and when she turned to greet the owner, found Harry instead of Draco.
"Hermione," Harry said patiently, his eyes flicking to her wand and his best mate before finding her eyes and pleading with her, "What are you doing?"
"Did you know," Hermione asked Harry, "that Ron has been sleeping with Pansy this entire time? All these months?"
Harry looked at Pansy and Ron, both of whom looked so comfortable beside each other, Hermione felt stupid for not seeing it before.
Of course, Harry knew. Ron wouldn't keep that a secret when she knew Harry would lie for him. A fracture cracked its way through her chest at the look on Harry's face. She pulled her shoulder free of his grip, and in the moment she was distracted, Pansy had her own wand directed at Hermione's chin.
Hermione wasn't afraid, instead, she smiled at Pansy, daring her with her eyes to do something. Appearing suddenly, Theo stood between Pansy's wand and Hermione's throat. Hermione knew their secret was out in the open, guts spilling from a rotting fish so it filled the room with the stench of hypocrisy, their lies and secrets unravelling in an epic cascade of revelations.
Pansy looked at them, and Hermione saw the moment the realisation hit her, forming a bubble of laughter to burst out of her like a giddy child who had had too much candy.
"I bet Hugo and Rose are both Theo's," Pansy looked between them, the smile still splitting her face before she glanced back at Ron who had heard her words but it only just penetrated into his ringing ears. "You messy bitch," Pansy spat.
" I'm messy?" Hermione sputtered in disbelief.
"Hermione, please," Theo said over his shoulder, knowing full well what Hermione was capable of.
"I think we should all leave," Draco said coolly. Astoria's eyes had narrowed as she watched the events unfolding. "If what Granger has said is the truth, this is enough of an ugly scene. I'm sure this is better discussed behind closed doors and not where a journalist is hungry for their next big article."
Hermione knew Draco said it for their benefit. Of course, he was right. She had let the wrath blind her into confronting the man she no longer cared for about the man she needed to protect. She spared Draco a glance before taking Theo's arm and leading him from the room. She hoped Draco could read that they were going to the cottage, and he would be able to find them there whenever he was free of his unexposed chains.
That night, Theo and Hermione cuddled their children as they fell asleep together, Rose hugging her baby brother, with a parent on either side. The cottage hummed in contentment as roots of a family burrowed into the soil beneath its floors.
Still, Hermione and Theo remained uneasy in the silence of the countryside. One-fifth of their family was missing and was yet to come home. This cottage was their home now, with the facades broken and lives shattered beyond repair.
The following morning, when the sun warmed her hands as she got the dishes started on their magic wash cycle, Hermione read the Prophet on the countertop as Theo fed Hugo a warm bottle, and Rosie played with her food painting smears on her high chair with her finger and giggling.
Hermione inhaled her tea when she saw the second headline.
Threesome Madness: How Two Pureblood Wizards Seduced a Mudblood into Becoming their Concubine. The Secrets and Lies of the Love Triangle, Malfoy-Nott-Granger.
"What's wrong?" Theo was already at her side and rubbing circles on her back as he bounced baby Hugo gently. Hermione held up the paper, sputtering and unable to speak because tea had definitely made its way into her lungs.
Theo stopped rubbing her back and bouncing Hugo on his hip as his eyes roamed the printed headline.
"Draco," he said. And Hermione knew what he meant.
They had tried their best to protect Draco. No one would have known a thing. So what happened that an entire story leaked to the Prophet in time to be in this morning's publication?
—
"What did you do?" Draco demanded, sliding the Prophet onto the dining table.
Scorpius had just fallen asleep against his mother's chest after feeding, so Draco's wrath was delivered at a low volume. Draco knew his wife was behind it. She had leaked the story to the Prophet but he didn't know why. And he wanted to know why.
"I want a divorce," she said with dead eyes.
The dining room door creaked open and Lucius entered the fray, unsuspecting; then sensing something was amiss, he settled for grabbing a muffin and making for the door.
"You could have asked for a divorce," Draco hissed. Lucius paused at his son's words. "You didn't have to post it to the papers that I'm having an affair with Theo and Hermione."
Draco's magic was seeping out of him and thickening the air now. Lucius walked up to his daughter-in-law and scooped his grandchild into his arms before giving the couple some room by retreating to the Drawing Room door.
However, he did not leave. Astoria spared him a grateful smile before refocusing on Draco.
"You're wrong if you think I'd let you embarrass me publicly like that without me getting a word in," Astoria bit out. "Standing with Granger as it was obvious she's been cheating on Ron with your best mate, going so far as to have two of his children. You should hate her for ruining everyone's lives."
"No one knew a thing," Draco hissed. Draco could feel Lucius bubbling with something to say and so he glared at his father who was holding his son and dared him to speak.
"I think you should leave her alone, Draco," Lucius said, all business and no warmth or understanding. He was taking her side?
He wished his mother was in the country. He knew at least she would have stood by him in all this madness. Draco also knew that his father and him had butted heads ever since the arranged marriage had failed, proving only to be successful in carrying on the Malfoy lineage. Which, Draco laughed as it dawned on him, was Lucius' main intent anyway.
"Oh, Father," Draco cajoled, "How nice of you to take an interest in my unhappiness."
"Draco, stop it right now," Lucius warned, using words Draco hadn't heard since he was a teenager. It made him feel young and stupid again. But Draco was wiser now than he had been then when he had something to prove to a master who expected him to fail.
Draco looked between Lucius and his wife, then at his son. His son who, against Lucius' chest, looked just as Draco had looked when Draco was a babe.
It hit him as hard as a bludger to his temple.
His son wasn't his son. His son was his brother. Scorpius didn't belong to him.
A smirk played across Draco's face. His eyes stung. An explosion of emotion worked its way from the pit of his stomach and into his chest. A maniacal cackle burst out of him. Tears blurred his vision as he doubled over, the laughter tightening his abdomen until it ached sharply like he had run too quickly in too short a time.
"Mother is going to love this," Draco said breathlessly, "Well done father, on securing your bloodline."
Lucius went pale and Scorpius began to fuss. Astoria was staring wide-eyed between her lover and her husband, caught in the truth, the real reason for her wanting a divorce when she thought she was going to attain one by exposing her husband to the world. Draco wondered why she had. Money, probably. A clause about cheating and who would get what perhaps. Draco had never read the fine print.
Draco smiled smugly, the score even between them. Neither party would receive anything from the other's estate.
"If you'd excuse me," Draco approached his brother who he loved as a son and kissed his fuzzy crown, "I'm going to find the other pieces of my heart because it turns out, I'm finally free of you."
"What?" Astoria stumbled after him in the corridors. "You're not going to fight me? To demand a bloodline check?"
"No," Draco couldn't help it, he laughed in relief. "No, because it's true, isn't it? Scorpius is my brother? You're free to face my mother when she returns. Good luck explaining my divorce, Father."
"Where are you going?" Astoria sputtered, "You're the Malfoy Heir, you can't leave the Manor-"
"You gave birth to the only Malfoy heir that matters, my love," Draco stopped to kiss her lightly on the cheek, clinical and emotionless, "As long as you are in this family, I will not be."
—
The cottage was a postcard of paradise; blue skies with speckled white clouds, a cool breeze pressing the tall blades of grass sideways and scattering the scent of green and earth into the wind. Draco took one look at it and knew he was home.
Unlocking the door, he entered to find Theo and Hermione with his children sound asleep against their chests as they poured over papers, a pen and notebook open as they scribbled notes.
"What are you two plotting?" Draco whispered, making them jump in surprise. Draco chuckled softly before walking to them and kissing them on their cheeks, then inhaling the scent of his babies' hair.
"We were trying to figure out how to get Scorpius to come with us amidst your evidently imminent divorce," Hermione said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, half waving the newspaper clipping exposing them to the world. Draco hummed happily, earning him puzzled looks from his lovers.
"Scorpius is not my son," Draco said, pleasantly happy that it was so easy to shift Scorpius from being his son to being his brother, "He's my father's son. He's my brother."
Hermione and Theo blinked, looked at each other, then blinked again. There was a heavy ache in Draco's chest, but as painful as it was to remove the weight against his lungs, it was agonising relief to be free of vows he had unwillingly made.
"What?" Hermione asked, at the same time Theo said blankly, "Come again?"
"Scorpius is my brother," Draco said slowly. "And I'm okay with that."
"How are you okay with that?" Theo baulked, "I didn't even connect with my kid but finding out he wasn't mine last night…" he trailed off and looked green in the face. "I mean, it makes sense that Brutus isn't mine, but I still love him. I'll still miss him."
"He's my brother," Draco shrugged, "He's still my blood and I know he'll be in my life."
Hermione touched Draco's cheek and he found her palm cool against his hot skin.
"Are you sure, love?" Hermione asked him gently as Rosie fussed against her chest, fruit-mush drying on her chin where she had most likely spit up in the minutes Hermione and Theo had been lost in plotting.
"I have you," Draco whispered, smiling at her before she planted a kiss on his mouth, followed by Theo's warm lips. Draco brought his arms around them, their temples met firmly as they embraced each other with their babies sleeping between them.
Was it not the greatest mistake three people could ever make?