Some Things Change

Lucius dove into the water gracefully, his body streamlined and creating a minimal splash. She watched father and son for a few moments, contemplating the differences and similarities between them.

Lucius was reserved and rational, every move and word carefully planned. He didn't do much for the simple pleasure of doing it. Most of his actions had an end, a goal to which he strived. Physically, he was the stronger of the two. Though equal in the height, Lucius’ structure was more solid and broad. His facial features were only slightly softer than those of his son, his eyes varied more than Draco’s, changing from light grey to mottled to granite with his moods.

Draco, on the other hand, was more impulsive. He was obviously spoiled, though not in the entitled way he had been during school. Now, it was more of an appreciation of the finer things. He liked his life, and he knew how to have fun. He wasn’t as conscious of himself as his father was; he did not weigh every word and action. He was more slender than his father, his waist narrow but shoulders broad, hinting that when he was older, his form would be more like Lucius’. His pointed features sometimes gave him an elfin appearance, and he always looked mischievous. His slate eyes only darkened in desire.

Both men were fucking gorgeous.

Hermione poured herself a well-deserved glass of wine. Lucius was swimming laps while Draco was floating around on his back. Whenever Lucius would pass by, Draco would launch himself onto his father’s back, submerging him completely. Lucius would mostly ignore his son, swimming away without even a glance back. This obviously annoyed Draco, who would make more of an effort to get a rise on the next pass.

Hermione had to hide her giggles at the younger Malfoy’s antics. Honestly. She took a fortifying gulp of the wine (which should probably not be gulped at all, but no one was watching) and reached for the hem of her dress.

As though he had radar, Draco righted himself so he was treading water, catching her eye and raising a blond eyebrow challengingly.

Feeling bold from the wine and the sunlight, Hermione smile flirtatiously and toyed with the strap on her dress. When she slid one over her shoulder, he smiled broadly, swimming for the sand by the blanket.

“Need help?” he asked softly, coming to sit beside her but on the grass to spare the blanket.

“The zipper,” she said, meeting his heated gaze. He moved behind her, tracing his hands up the sun kissed flesh of her arms, a touch too light to be satisfying. His hand settled on the zipper and he slowly tugged it down, brushing her skin with his fingertips on the way.

“You feel warm,” he told her. “Will you be going in?”

She nodded, looking back over her shoulder at him. “Yes, I love to swim.”

“Hmm,” he said, kissing her shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled the soft skin below her ear. She leaned back into his embrace and sighed contentedly. Draco nipped her skin lightly, making her gasp and open her eyes.

“Delicious,” he whispered against her skin, biting her again before kissing the sensitized skin. He slid the dress down her body, urging her to raise her hips so he could slip it away entirely. His hands smoothed over the expanse of her back before settling on her bikini strings and giving a threatening tug.

“Draco,” she admonished, reaching behind herself to retie the bow.

“Can’t help myself,” he laughed. He stood quickly and yanked her to her feet. Taking her hand, he led her to the sandy incline, but just as the water touched her toes, he picked her up and hauled her own his shoulder, running around the side of the pond to where he’d jumped in before—the deep end. Hermione shrieked. She was the type to go in inch by inch; she was sure the shock would kill her.

“Look out!” Draco yelled to his father, who quickly swam out of the way. Draco jumped in, Hermione and all, resulting in a huge splash and a very disgruntled young witch.

She emerged from the cold water spluttering and glaring. She tried to jump at Draco with the intention to at least dunk him, but the slippery prat was gone in a flash, laughing raucously all the while.

Hermione felt like crossing her arms petulantly, but she needed them to swim.

“A damsel in distress? Could I be so lucky?” Lucius swam up behind her and took her into his arms. Turning so she faced him, she steadied herself on his water-slicked shoulders, legs kicking to keep her afloat.

“I don’t need rescuing, but I could use a hit man,” she said seriously, wrapping her arms slowly around his neck and bringing her body closer.

“Well,” he began. “I can’t kill him, but I do know how to make him regret his actions.” He smiled that Malfoy smile and Hermione drew even closer. Lucius swam them over a few feet to where he could touch the sandy bottom, though it was still too deep for her to stand.

“Oh, really? And how would you—” Lucius cut her off by pressing his lips to hers, kissing her soundly. She vaguely heard Draco shout, “Hey!” in the background, but her goal to antagonize him went by the wayside as Lucius’ demanding tongue slid over her lower lip, sucking into his mouth to part them. Her legs slid around his hips, locking at his back and bringing her body flush against his. She could feel his hard waist between her thighs and moaned. His hands slid over her back to cup her bottom, fingertips exploring her skin, covered and uncovered.

His kisses grew more passionate when his tongue slipped into her expectant mouth, and she met him stroke for stroke before retreating and allowing him to dominate the kiss the way she knew he wanted.

Hermione was suddenly distracted by a body pressing against her back. Draco was kissing her neck and nibbling her ear, which was completely unfair because she was mad at him. So she told him so.

“I’m not sorry,” he told her, hands roaming over her arms and to her waist. Lucius was kissing her neck and ignoring the discussion going on beside his head. “You would have done the same thing,” Draco continued.

Hermione huffed. “Yes, but the difference is I can’t do the same thing. Go away.” She waved her hand at him dismissively, but ruined the effect by smiling.

“I don’t think you want me to go away, love,” Draco whispered. She was about to refute his statement when his hand slipped between his father’s grip on her arse and caressed her bikini-covered slit.

She gasped softly, squirming a little in their combined grasp. One of Lucius’ hands made quick work of her bathing suit top, and she didn't even notice its absence until she heard the wet smack of it hitting the rocks to the side. Draco moved his hand from its teasing position between her legs to cup her breasts, weightless under the water.

Lucius took her mouth again as Draco planted kisses along her shoulders and neck. One of the hands on her behind slid around to the front and into her bathing suit. Lucius’ sure fingers rolled and stroked her clit, somehow in time with Draco’s light pinches on her nipples.

Her body was a mess of nerve endings and sensation, the water gently caressing her skin, soothing her rapidly heating flesh as her men played her body like an instrument.

“Still angry?” Draco asked, pressing his arousal into the small of her back, rocking her into Lucius who responded in kind. She moaned, but it was swallowed by devouring kisses, which she broke only momentarily to whisper, “No.”

Lucius pulled away from her searching lips to ask, “Should we maybe take this to land?” But he didn't wait for an answer, pulling her away from Draco and carrying her out of the water. She could have put her legs down and walked, but she was too busy marking the skin of her transportation.

He laid her back on the blanket, wetting it with both their bodies. He immediately settled between her thighs, and Hermione was flooded with heat when she felt the incredible hardness pressing against her apex.

Suddenly Lucius was moving them both so they were on their sides, never breaking the kiss. Draco settled behind her, running his hands all over her near-frenzied body. She’d never felt so aroused in her life.

Lucius broke the kiss and softly turned her face to the side, over her shoulder. Draco was right there, leaning up slightly and kissing her ferociously. She barely had a moment to compare Lucius’ calculating and seductive kisses to Draco’s slightly less schooled, passionate ones before lips closed around one of her swollen nipples. She moaned into Draco’s mouth, her hips writhing in a continuous circle.

Her bikini bottoms were removed in mere moments, and two pairs of hands explored the newly bared flesh. With her eyes closed and her mind occupied with the myriad of sensations, she couldn’t tell whose thumb was massaging her clit, whose fingers were slipping within her, whose hand was kneading her behind... all she knew was that it was perfect.

Reaching behind her, she tugged at Draco’s swim trunks enough to get her point across and then did the same to Lucius’ shorts. In no time, all three were naked and panting, hot despite the cool breeze travelling over the pond.

“Oh, gods,” she whispered. It was impossible to say more.

“Who, Hermione?” Draco asked softly, and she knew what he meant. She shook her head, closing her eyes and relinquishing responsibility of that decision.

“Draco,” she heard Lucius say in a quiet but determined voice. Hermione opened her eyes to see the man before her nod over her shoulder at his son. He caught her eye and kissed her softly, a sweet kiss that promised more than words ever could.

Draco lifted Hermione’s leg and draped it over Lucius’ hip. She moved closer to Lucius and in turn, Draco pressed himself closer against her back. She could feel Lucius’ throbbing cock against her belly, and her breath began to come more quickly.

“Okay?” Draco murmured, kissing her neck softly and caressing her thigh. She nodded, biting her lip before Lucius swept in to bite it for her.

She felt Draco’s cock press against her entrance, causing her to gasp softly. He slowly slid within her, stopping when he could go no deeper. “More,” she demanded in a low voice, wondering why he’d stopped, before his harsh breaths gave her an idea.

He pulled gently from her body before filling her again, and that amazing fullness made her moan in a manner more wanton than she’d like to admit. His gentle rocking caused her to move against Lucius’ body, his arousal pressing insistently against her belly until he shifted slightly, making her cry out as his cock pressed perfectly against her desperate clit.

Draco’s hand was cupping and massaging her breast, pulling her nipple in time with his thrusts, which were becoming harder and deeper. Lucius’ hands were everywhere, never giving her nerve-wracked body a moment’s peace. Hermione had one arm around Lucius’ neck and then other reaching behind her, holding onto Draco’s hip and encouraging his thrusts.

As Draco’s movements became more frenzied, so did her own, her hips gyrating against Lucius’ cock, her hand sliding down to grip his member, stroking as her body was thrust against his.

It became too much for Hermione: her nipples pinched, her arse gripped, her pussy pounded, her clit assaulted... it was unbelievable, it was too much. She cried out in orgasm, her body jerking and stilling as her blood pounded in her ears and a crackle of magic flooded her, giving her gooseflesh and setting off fireworks behind her eyes.

She vaguely heard Draco gasp and thrust deeply into her pliant body, a second wave of magic mingling with the first. Miraculously, her hand was still pumping Lucius’ shaft, and he bit her neck, crying out a muffled noise as his come splashed onto her belly and a third magical pulse rolled over her skin.

Her skin was still tingling ten minutes later, when Lucius was the first to speak.

“I hope I’m correct in assuming I was not the only recipient of that powerful magic.”

Draco grunted his agreement, his hand moving Hermione’s hair off both their faces, baring her neck so he could press his face into it.

“I felt it,” Hermione confirmed. She laughed softly, a residual tickle of the magic sweeping over her like butterfly wings. “I still feel it.”

It seemed impossible, but somehow Lucius pressed himself even closer against her body. She groaned as she pulled her leg back from where it had been resting high on his waist. The movement forced Draco to pull back slightly, and he rolled over to lie on his back. Hermione turned to face him, cuddling up to his exhausted body and kissing him softly on the lips. She wanted to tell him he’d been amazing, but she didn't want him to ruin the moment with one of his trademark smirks, so she let her eyes speak for her.

“This was perfect,” he told her in a reverent voice, making her feel guilty for not wanting to compliment him.

“It was,” she agreed, nestling into his arm and groping behind her to pull Lucius closer.

“I think I need a nap, though,” she confessed, yawning and laughing as both Malfoys repeated the gesture. The warm sun beat down on them, but the leaves around them were rustling with a most welcomed breeze, and the sound of the lightly lapping water lulled all three to sleep.

---

Hermione stood in the middle of her flat.

Her previous flat.

The flat which once had been her hideaway, her sanctuary, and was now nothing more than a few walls containing memories but not a life.

It was very strange to be standing in the same place she had stood every single day for the past three years, knowing that it was no longer hers. That feeling of belonging, of ownership was gone. She would never be able to come home and hide away from the world. From now on, there would always be other people around.

She wouldn’t be cooking for herself unless she wanted house elves to go all hara-kiri on her.

She wouldn’t be decorating her own space because it had been done for her. Beautifully, of course.

She wouldn’t have a list on the fridge of things falling apart so that Harry or Ron would see it and take pity on her, fixing it furtively because they knew how irritated it made her to be unable to do it herself.

She would never cut her toe on that stubborn strip of laminate. She would never glare weakly at the hole in the wall from overzealous movers. She would never flip aimlessly through the channels of her haphazardly spelled television....

Actually, screw that. The TV was coming with her.

Nodding decisively, Hermione shrank the television and stuck it in her purse. She could see Draco packing up the last of her books, so she hurriedly shrank the DVD player, game console, and surround sound as well. In for a Sickle, in for a Galleon.

Lucius suddenly Apparated in front of her, giving her a guilty start.

“Are you all right, Hermione?” he asked quietly, in that cultured tone that meant either he didn't really like the company, or he was worried about something. Since Hermione knew Lucius very much enjoyed her company, she knew he was concerned about her.

“Just saying goodbye,” she told him. And she was. She didn't actually want to stay, that wasn’t the problem. There was no problem, really. She would just miss it, that was all. And one could miss the past without wanting to ignore the future. And these men were her future, and she theirs. It was the way things were supposed to be.

He took her into her arms, holding her lightly and making her eyes water unbidden. She felt another warm body wrap itself around her back, and Draco kissed the top of her head. This was home. Not a floor and walls, not a town, not a country. Here.


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Author's Note: I'm told this seems like an ending, but it is definitely not. Not even close, people!

Thank you all a million times over for the amazing reviews. It's so good to see both the new readers, and the repeat reviewers. My life is made complete, thanks to you all! No exaggeration. :)

On another note, you should all read my creepy (as described by reviewers and my beta) non-con threesome (Hermione/Draco/Blaise) story called "In the Hands of Monsters." Unless you don't like that sort of thing; in which case, you shouldn't read it.

Skittering tapdances (running out of things to offer!) to kazfeist for the beta.