Triumvirate

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the songs included in this fanfic nor do I make money off them. These stories are for entertainment only
~
This story's missing a wishing well
No mirror to show and tell
No kiss that can break the spell
I'm falling asleep

Every prince is a fantasy
The witch is inside of me
The poison will wash away
The memory

We kill the lights
And put on a show
It's all a lie
But you'd never know
The star will shine
And then it will fall
And you will forget it all


Kill the lights - The Birthday Massacre
~

Harry stood beside the bed, watching with careful eyes as the medi-witches and healers bustled about the room. Draco lay pale against the deep green linens. Now clean, Harry could make out some of his condition.

Large dark bruises marred his pale flesh, layering with his many scars in a morbidly lovely tableau. More than half of those scars were from Harry himself. The sectumsempra remained one of Harry’s preferred spells. He had found over the years that one could control the depth of the cuts, but it took a master caster to do such a thing. He had been young and distraught when he had unleashed it on Draco. Nearly killing him.

The rest of his scars were also from Harry. They had been earned in service to Harry. The sight of them made the darker man wince. It seemed that Draco had become the new Snape. A scarred haunted man, trusted by few and liked by fewer. Harry was sorry for it. Deeply.

“Lord Potter?”

He turned to find a healer standing a few feet away. He nodded to her.

“Lord Potter. We have stabilized Mr. Malfoy as best we can. The bruises and broken bones will heal within 24 hours. However the damage to his nerves from the cruciatus is beyond much of what I have seen in my many years of healing…. It will…be difficult sir.”

Harry met her eyes fully, seeing in her mind that her own family had once suffered because of Lucius Malfoy and while she was devoted to healing her patients, her malice for the Malfoy line had never completely vanished.

Harry bristled at the knowledge. “This is my glorious Third” he growled at her, “You will treat him as you would treat me. Is that understood? His care is of utmost importance to me and the wizarding world.”

She nodded, her head looking like a bouncing ball upon a stick so swift was her capitulation. “I would recommend the serum my lord” she whispered, “In small, regular doses for the next five days.”

Harry blinked. “Five Days?”

She nodded, this time her eyes held a hint of sorrow. “His nerves, sir, they are so scrambled that I fear any attempt to quickly untangle the signals will do irreparable harm.”

He could understand the concept, “Send me Madame Pomfrey at once” he ordered.

The little witch vanished with a pop.

The other healers were standing by, waiting orders or dismissal. He chose the latter.

He took a seat beside the bed and stared at Draco. Even battered he was beautiful. Another symptom of the blood curse that had long lain dormant within him.

“You’ve got to wake up soon and be ok mate” Harry murmured softly. “Mione and I are going to need you more than ever now.” Reaching over he lightly squeezed the other man’s hand.

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Hermione woke feeling well rested but uneasy. She located the horcux in her discarded robes. Harry would be here soon for it. She threw herself together and rushed into Draco’s room.

He was asleep, but he looked much better than he had before. She sat beside him and unknowingly adopted Harry’s previous stance. Her small hand curling over his. She stared at those hands for a long moment.

Draco was so large compared to her. Like Harry was. Odd that at this moment laying in that large bed he looked so small. So fragile.

“You have to wake up” she told him very matter of factly, “We have tons of work to do.” She stood leaning low over him and pressed a shy kiss to his brow. “Besides, I miss you. I’m going downstairs and borrowing your kitchen.”

Draco didn’t stir, but then Hermione hadn’t really expected him to. She had hoped though.

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Chop. Chop. Chop. Chop.

Rhythmic. Unthinking. Soothing.

Hermione took out her fears and frustrations on those around her with a cleaver. First went the unfortunate potatoes. The carrots, celery and onions fell next.

She dumped them into the large pot of water, adding a healthy dose of whiskey to the whole affair. She threw in several herbs and spices and then looked down at Maddy.

“I think chicken is a good choice”.

The house elf snapped her small fingers and Hermione beamed at the poultry before she chopped into that as well.

Harry followed the steady sound to the kitchen. He leaned against the door frame, holding his fingers to his lips when Maddy spotted him. The house elf gave a shy smile and then said to Hermione. “I should check on the master.”

Hermione nodded, thoroughly involved in hacking the chicken into small bits to be added to her pot. Harry could see her scowl reflected in the window as she carefully measured and added her ingredients.

“I always knew Snape would rub off on you.” he announced.

Hermione jumped slightly, the cleaver clattering to the stone floor. “Merlin Harry!” she exclaimed, holding her hand to her heart, “You scared me.”

He chuckled softly striding forward to stand next to her, peering into the pot. “Chicken stew” he said with a sigh of longing, “Don’t suppose I can wrangle an invite?”.

Hermione met his vibrant eyes and smiled gently, “No invite needed” she told him, “You always have a free pass at my stew.”

He chuckled, “Thank heavens for that. No one makes it like you do Mione. What else?”

She blushed, “Found out am I? All right. I am making a zucchini cake with cream cheese icing.”

Harry’s brows rose, “Very mugglish”

She laughed out loud at that, “Indeed. I have expected the Malfoy oven to spit it back at me”

She remembered the horcrux in her pocket, “Before I forget again. Here.” She drew out the small earring and handed it over to Harry, who glanced at it before pocketing it.

Harry laughed with her before he noticed a small bit of carrot just above her brow. Leaning over he pulled it gently free. “Messy” he teased.

Hermione felt her stomach drop in that pleasant fluttery way. Harry’s eyes had warmed to that shade of green that she knew only too well.

“I’ve missed you Mione” he told her. His hand sliding to caress her cheek. His callused fingers evoking such sensations in her.

“Missed you too”

“I’d like to talk to you. About the state of things, with the war, and with… us”

She swallowed hard, “Ok”

“I want to create a triumvirate” he said then, “I have since we knew of the prophecy.”

She nodded, “They rarely work you know. I mean look at history.”

Harry nodded, “Yes but I have something they didn’t. At least I hope I do.”

She watched him slowly draw closer, transfixed. “What’s that?”

When his lips barely brushed hers, he answered, “You.”

Hermione felt the gentle pressure of his mouth on her own for only a moment before Maddy’s voice rang from the stairs. “Master is waking!”

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Pain. It hit him in searing waves, like a blinding light. Like a welcome fist. He was alive.

Draco forced his eyes open and took in his fuzzy surroundings. He forced his vision to focus and saw Hermione and Harry standing beside the bed. Maddy was there too. Smiling at him.

He opened his mouth to speak but no sound emerged. He tried to sit up but the pain rocked him. His eyes grew wide Hermione knew exactly what was happening. She conjured a bucked and held it for him as he emptied his stomach.

Not much was there. Only bile. They’d nearly starved him in Paris.

His body shook and heaved and through it all, Hermione stayed firm. Bucket on her lap and her hand holding his hair away.

“Can I help?” Harry asked, feeling very out of place.

She nodded, “Could you please get some water and a cloth from the bath?”

Harry quickly summoned the items.

Draco was panting now, leaning against Hermione weakly. His pride feeling the sting of his stomach.

Hermione vanished the bucket and settled him back. She took the water and rag from Harry with a gentle smile and began to bathe Draco’s face and neck.

“You look like a pro” Harry remarked watching her gentle actions.

Hermione looked down into tired silver eyes and smiled, “Just returning a favor”.

Draco watched Harry move forward with a glass of water. When Harry slid his arm around Draco’s back to help him drink, the blonde wizard bit his lip against the pain. He wanted that water.

“Drink slowly” Harry cautioned him. Draco tried to take deep, greedy pulls but Harry wouldn’t allow that. “You’ll just make yourself sick again. You can have as much as you want I promise. Just take it slow and easy.”

Draco forced himself to slow, feeling the water trickle into the empty hollow of his stomach. It was at that moment that his stomach grumbled loudly.

Harry smiled, “You are in luck my friend” he teased, “Hermione is making her famous chicken stew. No house elf magic there. Just pure love in a pot.”

Draco smiled weakly as Harry let him sag against the pillows.

“How long?” Draco asked.

“Oh maybe another hour” Hermione said brightly.

A lopsided smile curved his lips, “Not stew. Sleep. How long?” His voice was raspy and his throat ached.

Hermione blushed, “Oh not long. We arrived last night.”

Draco’s brow furrowed, for such a short period of time, he felt much better.

Harry chuckled, “Madame Pomfrey gave me fits over your condition”.

Draco lifted a brow though it hurt to do so.

Harry nodded, “Yes she worked on you until dawn. Said that if I wasn’t the dark lord, she’d recommend a thorough spanking. There was always something kinky about her.”

Hermione laughed in shock, but Draco merely smiled.

Silver eyes moved to lock with copper.

Hermione sank to sit on the bed, “What is it?” she asked, “What do you need?”

“Serum.”

She shook her head, “No Draco. The healers said that you are too damaged. It will take small doses of it over the next 5 days. We can’t rush it.”

Harry had filled her in on the nature of his condition as they hurried up the stairs.

Draco shook his head, “My body is different” he rasped, “Bring it to me.”

She shook her head again, biting her lip, “I can’t.”

He frowned at her, “We don’t have time. They know I… am not a death eater. They know… that we have… that horcrux. They will move and I won’t….lay.. Idle”.

Harry moved to the other side of the bed, “You don’t have to” he promised, “But give me the 5 days of healing and rest.”

Worded as it was, Draco knew it was an order. Subtle, but an order all the same.

He nodded, not pleased with the idea. “I want to start the serum at once”.

Harry agreed, “That I will allow. I will have it sent up soon. For now I want you to rest Draco. Have some of Mione’s cooking and relax. When you feel better we can have a game of quidditch before we go to war. How does that sound?”

“Positively bloodthirsty” Hermione snarked.

Both men smiled briefly.

Harry rose a moment later, “I’d better get this secured” he said patting his pocket, “I will come by later to see you both. We’ll talk then Mione”.

She nodded, not meeting his gaze. A thing that didn’t slip Draco’s notice.

Hermione rose accepting Harry’s warm hug and kiss on the cheek. She blushed hotly. Knowing that nothing they did was lost on Draco.

Why did she feel so awkward she wondered? Was it because Draco was there?

That made no sense to her whatsoever.

When Harry had gone, she turned back to Draco. “Are you alright?”

He nodded stiffly, “Bit sore, but then you know how that goes.”

She smiled softly, “I do” she agreed, “Shall I have Maddy bring you some porridge? Soup? Anything?”

He nodded again, “Maybe some soup. And when it’s done… your stew. Lord Potter seems to like it.”

She shrugged, “I use to make it for them a lot you know? At the Burrow. When Molly needed a break.”

Draco reached out his hand to her and she slowly moved to take it. He pulled her down beside him, his jaw ticking against the pains that shot through him. “I know that this is your life Mione” he told her quietly, “I don’t want you to be tense. Not because of me.”

She nodded, feeling oddly torn between her feelings for Harry. Safe, strong, known, and her feelings for this man. Cursed, alone, and utterly irresistible.

Yes, she and Harry had to talk. But first she needed to sort herself out.

She glanced down at Draco, finding that he had drifted off again.

She carefully untangled herself and went to the kitchens.

As she stirred the pot of stew she considered how she felt. Conflicted, torn, oddly out of sorts. Like she was lost and confused and though the ways should be clear to her, they weren’t. She had always hated that feeling. And when she felt that way, there was always one person she could always rely on.

“Maddy” she called.

“Miss calls?” Maddy asked from the corner.

Hermione nodded, “ I was wondering if you could ask one of the other elves to get something for me?”

Maddy nodded, “Miss has but to ask.”

“There is a portrait in my study. I would like to have it brought here and placed in my room.”

Maddy smiled, “Of course. Might I ask who it is?”

Hermione stirred her pot, “Severus Snape”.

Yes. She needed Severus. When she felt like she was falling apart at the seams.

She'd made a severe miscalculation and now she was bound to pay for it. She needed the methodical machinations of that mind.

She had fallen for two men, and now, she wasn't certain if she could choose.

Merlin help her.

These were not the logical thoughts she was known for. These didn't bear even holding them up too closely to the light. Something dark and possessive was curling in her mind.

What was it Severus had once told her about surviving as he had all those years?

'When one doesn't like what they see under the glaring lamps. Perhaps its best to remember to kill the lights'.

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