Chapter 19

While Lucius and Draco were indulging in their usual rapid-fire banter at the dinner table, Hermione was letting her mind wander to the day before.

Being a member of a triad hadn't quite hit her until after they'd made love by the water. It was, without question or contemplation, the most erotic sex she'd ever had. She had tingled from the orgasm long into the night and had nearly gone wandering through the halls to find one of them to satisfy her desire, brought on by a very detailed recollection.

She hadn't, though.

Hermione still felt a little awkward about the situation. She honestly hadn't expected all three to be together for her first time in the triad. She'd sort of thought she'd go from one to the other until they were all more comfortable. But it had felt so beautiful, so perfect, that she knew it was the right thing to do.

And she tried not to feel embarrassment or shame at sharing herself with two men, but it was hard. She'd spent her whole life thinking that sex was between two people only, and that anyone who indulged outside those two people was a cheater.

But it seemed the rules had changed for her, and that in itself made her nervous. She didn't want to break the rules, if there even were rules. And it felt like there were. Hermione was nervous about telling Harry, Ron, Ginny and the other Weasleys about her new arrangement. She was certainly beginning to wish she'd told them before she'd moved in; but maybe this way, when she did tell them, they'd know she was serious.

Because now that she'd had a taste, there was no way she'd consider giving them up.

She must have blushed, because Draco was suddenly leering at her.

"Something on your mind, Granger?" he asked silkily.

She only smiled and took a sip of her water. She was beginning to understand Draco's moods and comments. Right now, he wanted reassurance that she was thinking about him, which was fine...except that if she told him she was, he would get all peacock-y about it and embarrass her. If his voice had been just a little quieter, she would have indulged him without a care. But as it was, he was looking to show off, and she wasn't going to play his game. So she smiled back, saying nothing.

"Hermione, I was thinking of having Celeste and Michael over for dinner on Friday. Would that be amenable to you?" Lucius asked, putting down the economic newsletter he was reading.

"Not Thello?" she asked. She was very fond of the pseudo-Snape, and she thought about him quite often. It was hard not to, when their triad seemed to be the example of what not to do.

"I believe Michael mentioned that Thello has a work conference to attend this weekend. I can reschedule for a time when he is available, if you'd like."

"No, no," Hermione assured, thankful for the soft smile Lucius gave her once he'd heard the disappointment in her voice. "But maybe we could have Thello over for tea sometime this week? I found him very interesting, and I'd like to speak with him more."

"What," Draco asked, "two men not enough for you, you want to pilfer one from another triad?"

He was smiling, so he wasn't being serious, but there was an undercurrent of jealousy there that surprised her. But then, when she thought about it, perhaps not. He wasn't jealous of his father, he'd proven that; but he wasn't immune to jealousy of other men. And he'd always struck her as the possessive type. But he need not worry...Hermione's hands were more than full. Or rather, they were just full enough.

"I don't want to pilfer Thello. I just want to get to know him better. He seems like the type to not have a lot of friends."

Lucius snorted delicately. "I knew you would want to take in strays."

"He's not a stray!" Hermione protested. "He seems really lonely. And... well, he reminds me of..."

"Snape." Draco finished. "Me, too."

Hermione sighed, flashing a thankful grin for his understanding. "I never got to thank Snape... or say I was sorry. We... we thought some horrible things about him. But he..." she trailed off, not knowing how sore of a topic the Potions master might be in this house. She knew he had been Draco's godfather and Lucius' close friend, and the guilt she felt at assuming the worst about the man had not diminished over the years. And now that he was gone, she suspected she'd rather built him up in her head a little, to overcompensate for her utter misconceptions of him.

"That was what he wanted, Hermione," Lucius said in that soft but forceful voice of his. "He didn't want you to understand him, or like him. He wanted you, all of you, to fear him so he could do his job properly. The only thing that mattered to him was protecting Potter. And he succeeded. He would not want your pity."

Hermione knew that was true. Her pity would probably feel like knives to a man like Severus Snape. Accepting the matter as closed for the time being, Hermione tried to steer the conversation back on track.

"In any case, I think Thello could use a friend. You two don't have to be here...I can entertain myself," she said in a final tone.

"We'll be here," both Malfoys responded, Draco looking rather put off by her suggestion, and Lucius looking amusedly resigned.

"Good!" she exclaimed. "Now, I wanted to talk about going public. I'd like to tell my friends first. Having them find out from the Daily Prophet would not be ideal."

"You can tell whomever you want, Hermione," Lucius told her, picking his newsletter back up. "The rest of the Wizarding World can figure it out for itself."

"So we aren't going to do a news release or anything like that?" Draco asked.

"I don't think that's necessary, to be perfectly honest. With Hermione involved, news will travel quickly enough. She is still a hot commodity, so to speak, in the news world."

Hermione didn't much like being spoken of as though she weren't in the room, but she used Lucius' apparent obliviousness to her presence to watch the way his sardonic lips curled and caressed his words. He took a sip of tea, licking his lips afterward and causing her to sigh.

Both Malfoys looked at her, and she pretended not to notice. "I don't want to do an article or press release," she said as though she hadn't just been watching Lucius rather voyeuristically. And it was true; she couldn't think of any reason to play nice with Skeeter. If she did sit with the woman and try to tell their story, the article would still be embellished and full of falsehoods, except it would have her name, and by proxy her approval, splashed all over it. If she chose not to do an article, people would still read the story, but they would (hopefully) take it with a grain of salt, knowing Skeeter's history of "journalistic integrity," and give Hermione the benefit of the doubt.

Not that Hermione particularly believed that the Wizarding World had any right to her private life. But for some reason, they seemed to want details, and she'd provided them with absolutely no juicy gossip over the boring years of celibacy and tame romances. This was going to drive the public mad.

Maybe Harry would have some tips on how to deal with the fallout. Though he was quite skilled in avoiding publicity these days, he tended, however, to get aggressive and personal with the press. He might not be the best person after all.

It took Hermione a couple minutes to realize who the perfect man to deal with the ravenous press was.

Or rather, men.

Tall, blond, full of sex and snide remarks. Sipping tea and looking at her expectantly.

"Maybe we should let word get out naturally and then speak to the press after a few weeks. I don't relish the conjecture I'm sure they'll print, and speaking to the public might stave off the speculation. I don't want people thinking the worst about us."

"Good idea," Draco said. "But I do think you should be prepared. Even if we do speak with the press, people are going to have very vocal opinions about us, you especially."

"He's right, Hermione," Lucius said, putting down his paper once more and looking at her earnestly. "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer publicly dating only one of us?"

"And who would it be, Lucius?" Hermione demanded. She already knew the answer. There was no way she could allow that. And given Lucius' subtle insistence that Draco make love to her first, she knew that, while he was not self-sacrificing in any normal stretch of the word, he would insist Draco be the "public boyfriend." He was beyond generous when it came to his son and didn't seem capable of denying him any happiness.

Before Lucius could answer, Draco interjected, "She's right, Father. I don't want that. We all deserve to be happy, and while we might not feel traditional jealousy within the triad, I don't think I could stand seeing the two of you acting like a couple while I trailed behind like a child. And I wouldn't want you to have to pretend to be nothing more than her father-in-law. It wouldn't be fair. People will just have to deal with it, and before we know it, we'll have started a new fashion trend. I can see it now...'Golden Triad starts threesome fad!'"

"Golden Triad?" Hermione smirked.

"Catchy, isn't it?" Draco winked playfully.

"Very," she agreed, rolling her eyes at Lucius, who smiled at her before fixing his son with a raised eyebrow. Draco shrugged and they all smiled. She marvelled at their easy familiarity.

The Golden Triad, as Draco was now insisting on calling them...though Lucius mentioned a certain resentment of the word "Golden," and suggested "Silver" might be more apt...was sitting in the main study. It was larger than Lucius' private study, and it was where Hermione intended to spend most of her time, since it was also set up with a comprehensive Accio system, where simply calling out the name of any book, title, or author, would bring the book directly to desk.

It almost took the fun out of even having a library, until Hermione went a little overboard and called no less than fifty books to her, just to see the extent of the collection and the capability of the spell.

The library was extensive. The spell was capable. Hermione was in her element.

Currently perusing an antiquated edition of Moste Potente Potions, just because she could, Hermione wiggled around on the sofa until her head was resting on Lucius' thigh. It wasn't exactly soft, but it was warm and brought her close enough to... inhale his delicious scent.

Right.

Lucius was doing something boring on his other thigh, like balancing an asset and liability table. He scribbled away with his right hand, while his left hand idly traced her collarbones. He didn't seem to even realize he was doing it, and she had no intention of breaking the spell, even though it made her want to squirm.

Draco was not involved in their tranquillity. In fact, he was rather disturbing it.

"Can't you just owl me the details so I can get the report in on Monday?"

The familiar face of their boss was grimacing in the Floo, and Hermione felt guilty for being pleased that Draco was the one getting pestered on a Sunday. It might have been that they'd found her Floo to have been disconnected, of course. But this only reinforced her decision to wait a few days before giving them an updated address. She rarely indulged in irresponsibility, but as Lucius' fingers made another sweep across her clavicle before tracing up her throat and lingering just behind her ear, irresponsibility was feeling pretty damn good.

"But why on Earth would he want to meet on a Sunday?" Draco was demanding.

Because he can, Hermione surmised, and the actual answer was not far off.

She absently listened to Draco grumble, something he actually rarely did about his work, before cutting off the call and stomping over to where Lucius and Hermione were casually lounging in a way that was certain to annoy him right now.

"I get to go to work right now...isn't that thrilling?" he demanded, and Hermione smiled at his petulance.

"Draco, surely I needn't remind you that I work almost every weekend and have for longer than you've been alive, and Hermione works more overtime than nearly anyone else in the Ministry. One Sunday shift isn't going to ruin your life."

Draco sighed dramatically, Accioing his coat and briefcase and glaring at the indolent recliners.

"Kiss, Draco?" Hermione asked sweetly. He looked ready to breathe fire, and while his passion usually kindled her own, now he was just being excessive.

His face immediately softened, and he sighed. Bending down, he placed a soft, slow kiss against her lips, tasting her thoroughly and nibbling a little before straightening.

"Hopefully I'll be back earlier rather than later. And I wouldn't have to go in at all if those incompetents could file the proper paperwork in the first place..." he trailed off, stopping his grousing only to say goodbye and announce his destination into the Floo before spiriting off in a shock of flame.

After Draco left, it didn't take long for the overly heavy tome to settle against Hermione's stomach and her eyes drift close to the soothing smoothness of Lucius' fingertips dancing lightly over her bared skin.

Lucius smiled to himself, something he rarely did in privacy. Something he rarely did in public.

Something he rarely did.

But it seemed like those particular muscles were getting a strenuous work out these past few weeks. Having Hermione in his life was an unexpected boon, and he recognized that he was treading dangerous waters.

It was definitely too soon to acknowledge any sort of feelings. Wasn't it? But it was difficult not to when she was so feisty and funny and fun. But beyond that, he'd never seen her sleep before. He hadn't watched anyone other than his son sleep for a number of years. Narcissa and he had not shared rooms in the last years of their marriage, and any romantic feelings between the two had dwindled long before that. Even when their love had been in full bloom, he couldn't recall watching her sleep and feeling so protective over her.

But Hermione in repose was entirely different than Hermione awake. Her features, though always youthful, seemed impossibly young. She looked completely unspoiled, as though she'd never heard a dirty word, never touched herself in the dead of night, and certainly never let a father and son make love to her in the grass.

But the dichotomy intrigued him. She intrigued him. And aroused him. Lucius carefully moved a little, making sure not to jolt her as she slept against his thigh. He wished he'd been the one to make love to her. It wasn't a matter of who went first; he didn't regret his decision or begrudge Draco for taking her first. It was just that he wished he'd had her at all.

Hermione rolled a little on the narrow sofa, and Lucius had to hold her shoulders so she didn't slip off. She whimpered a little in her sleep at being restrained, and Lucius groaned internally. Carefully shifting out from beneath her, Lucius stood, stretching in a way he'd never allow anyone to see. He'd been sitting for far too long, having finished what he was working on over an hour ago, watching Hermione sleep and contemplating his new life.

He bent down to haul her into his arms, one beneath her bent knees and the other supporting her shoulder. Her arms came up automatically to encircle his neck, and she nuzzled into his chest with a soft mewl that tugged at his heart and his cock.

He carried her to her bedroom. It was still early in the day, but it seemed as though she needed the rest. He knew she rarely got more than five or six hours of sleep during the week, so it was possible her body was playing catch-up. He hoped living at the Manor would relieve some of her responsibilities and ease her stress. He'd never lived without money, but he could imagine the lack of it would be quite preoccupying.

When he went to settle her against the soft cotton sheets, her arms wouldn't release his neck. Lucius sighed in a way that an outsider would interpret as long-suffering and resigned, but was actually contented. He removed his robes, shoes, and silk shirt before lying beside her. She immediately squirmed into his arms, and he had no choice but to embrace her.

No choice at all.