Expectations

Freshly bathed and still nude, Hermione smoothed a drop of perfume into the hollow of her throat and considered her reflection in the full-length mirror. Candlelight gleamed along the silver threads that had recently appeared in her hair, and she examined the faint lines bracketing her eyes and mouth. Laughter lines, they were called -- and perhaps they were -- but she knew wrinkles was the more accurate word.

Her gaze was drawn down her body, and her hands cupped her breasts, lifting and assessing. There was no point in denying it; they'd begun to sag. Her hands slid downward, over her abdomen, fingers pressing lightly into the softening flesh before continuing back and over her hips. She sighed. She had to stick to an exercise regimen; she was developing a tummy, and her bum was spreading. Being a witch slowed ageing, but it didn't stop it completely.

She shook her head and turned away from the mirror to dress. Her new lingerie and most flattering robes were already laid out across the bed, and she smiled as she dressed. All the arrangements were in place, and she was determined to have an anniversary to remember.

"Thirty years," she mused aloud. "It doesn't seem that long ago..."

~*~*~*~

Hermione pushed open the door to The Toad and Tortoise and paused until her eyes became accustomed to the dim light. After a quick look around, she decided the place was perfect. After the day she'd had, she just wanted to have a drink in peace. Possibly several drinks.

She'd walked past the pub before but had never entered. Located on the far side of the junk shop at Diagon Alley, The Toad and Tortoise was not new enough to be fashionable, nor seedy enough to be disreputable. Few customers stood at the bar, and fewer tables were occupied. It was the embodiment of mediocrity, and exactly what she wanted. She didn't want to encounter anyone she knew, but she didn't want to stay home and face her parents' well-meaning condolences, either.

Hermione ordered a red currant rum from the indifferent barman and selected a small table near the dingy fireplace. She tossed her cloak over the empty chair to discourage company and settled in for a pity party.

Everyone had expected her to marry Ron. Her family, his family, Harry, their schoolmates, everyone she knew had expected it, and so after Voldemort had been defeated, they'd married. If she was completely honest with herself, she'd known it was a mistake from the beginning. Hermione loved Ron; she still did. But she hadn't been in love with him for years. By the time he'd proposed, the spark that had propelled their relationship from friends to lovers during the war had already faded away. Nonetheless, she'd been determined to make it work. Too stubborn and arrogant to accept the truth, she'd made the mistake of believing she could simply will her emotions into submission.

At first, their life had been contented, if not exciting. Ron entered Auror training along with Harry, and Hermione apprenticed to Erasmus Quiller, a noted Arithmancer. They'd purchased a small home not far from the Burrow in Ottery St. Catchpole -- again, just as everyone had expected -- and assumed their role in the teeming Weasley family.

Ron became an Auror, and Hermione was employed as a junior Arithmancer for Gringotts. They each enjoyed their work, putting in the extra effort and hours needed to succeed. Soon enough, however, their relationship had soured. Their primary source of conflict was the subject of children: Ron wanted them, and she didn't. She'd been very clear about that long before he'd proposed, but Ron had made his own mistake: he'd thought he could change her mind.

Increasingly, they began arguing over the issue, neither willing to concede to the other. Ron's family loudly took his side and added to the already thick tension between them. In one last effort to save their marriage, they tried Muggle marriage counselling, but the chasm separating them was already too deep and too wide.

After five years of marriage, she and Ron had admitted defeat, and their split was as amicable as possible under the circumstances. Hermione had signed the house over to Ron, took half of their minuscule savings and moved into a flat in London. Two days later, Ron filed for divorce, citing "unreasonable behaviour".

She'd had to endure months of Harry and various members of the Weasley family trying to sort things out for them. The culmination of those endeavours had been a particularly nasty row with Molly that ended with Hermione accused of being a selfish cow who'd misled Ron, and with Hermione ordering Molly from her flat at wandpoint.

Hermione stared down into her drink, idly examining the battered tabletop through the amber liquid. A few hours ago, she'd received notice of the dissolution of her marriage. She'd done exactly what everyone had expected her to do, and all she had to show for it was a piece of parchment officially declaring her a failure at marriage. Worse, she now found herself with no one to talk to about the situation.

She'd never been adept at making friends. With the war, her apprenticeship and her work, cultivating new friends hadn't seemed important. Tonight, however, that lack of friends was revealed as one more glaring failure on her part. Harry was married to Ginny and was Ron's best friend. While Hermione had no doubt Harry would listen, he'd always chosen Ron over her. The rest of her friends were all Weasleys, none of whom would be the least bit sympathetic to her.

Hermione sighed and took a sip of rum. Tonight, all she wanted to do was ignore the nagging feeling that she was a failure at life, and pretend that she hadn't just become persona non grata with the majority of her friends.

~*~*~*~

Another red currant rum later, Hermione needed to use the loo, but a quick look around didn't reveal an obvious sign to the ladies. The gents was clearly in a back corner, but the ladies wasn't next to it, and in the opposite corner... Hermione's gaze slid over that corner four times before she finally understood she wasn't actually seeing it. Some variation of a Muggle Repelling charm, she decided. There was a strong sense that she had something important to do elsewhere and there was nothing of interest in that corner. When she forced herself to look, a haze overlaid the corner, as if everything was being viewed through a heavily blurred lens. Someone impaired by the effects of alcohol wouldn't see the corner at all.

She could see there was something there, but couldn't see what it was. If the opposite corner could be accurately used as a template, there was a table squarely in the centre of that mist. She decided it was probably a couple engaged in a tryst, which might be romantic, but didn't change the fact that she needed the loo. Hermione walked toward the corner, struggling to ignore the now panicked sense that something was desperately wrong at her flat and she should go home immediately. She stopped at the perimeter of the haze.

"I need the loo," she announced, "and you have it concealed."

There was a long pause and just as Hermione decided she should repeat herself, the spell ended. As she expected, the loo was in the corner, but to her surprise, Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape were sitting at the table in front of the door.

"An oversight," Malfoy said, one hand resting lightly on his cane. "This isn't the sort of establishment in which one usually stays long enough to require the facilities."

"And yet, here you are," Hermione said, eyes narrowed.

"Yes." Malfoy seemed amused. "Here we are."

"Plotting to take over the world?" Hermione asked.

"Always," Malfoy said, smiling.

She scowled and glanced at Snape who merely smirked.

Hermione shook her head and went to the loo. While there, she tried to remember everything she'd heard about Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape during the past four years.

Snape had escaped Azkaban by only the barest of measures, but the letters and Pensieve memories left by Albus Dumbledore had convinced the Wizengamot to release Snape with only probation. She'd heard Snape had purchased the Apothecary in Diagon Alley, and although she'd never seen him there, the shop had been given a vigorous cleaning and reorganised more efficiently. The plain-label potions abruptly increased both in potency and price, lending credence to the rumour that the former Potions master had taken ownership.

Four days after the events atop the Astronomy Tower, Lucius Malfoy had been released from Azkaban, which coincided with Narcissa and Draco's abrupt flight into hiding. Three nights later, Lucius had arrived unannounced at the Burrow, white-faced and visibly shaken, demanding that Arthur help him. Hermione later learned that after attempting to punish Lucius through Draco, Voldemort had expected Lucius to hunt down his own son in order to redeem himself. Lucius had not only been furious, he'd wanted vengeance. There'd been a hastily arranged Veritaserum-enhanced interrogation by Professor McGonagall and Mad-Eye Moody, and Lucius became the Order's liaison to Snape.

After Voldemort had been defeated, both men had virtually disappeared from public life. Lucius had been in the press briefly when he and his wife had divorced three years ago, but Hermione had seen nothing of Severus Snape. Admittedly however, she hadn't been actively seeking out either man.

She washed her hands and exited the loo to find her cloak was now draped across the back of an extra chair at their table, and a fresh red currant rum waited on the table before the empty chair.

"You expect me to join you?" Hermione was incredulous.

"Of course," Malfoy answered.

She placed her hands on her hips. "Mr. Malfoy--"

"You must call me Lucius, and he is Severus. There's no need to maintain formalities," Lucius said, his tone light. "We're fellow war veterans, after all. Why shouldn't we have a drink together?"

Hermione looked at Snape, waiting for his protest, but he remained silent. Somewhat perplexed, she turned her attention back to Lucius.

"Maybe because you and I didn't fight on the same side for the majority of that war?" she said.

Lucius brushed her concerns aside with a wave of his hand. "But you and Severus did, and in the end, I fought with you. Isn't that what matters?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and reached for her cloak, but stopped, her hand hovering in mid-air. She didn't care about Malfoy, but she truly didn't want to insult Snape by walking away. He hadn't openly invited her to sit down, but his silence amounted to the same thing.

Besides, refusing to join them for a drink was exactly what everyone would expect her to do, and look how well that had turned out. Talking -- or more likely arguing -- with them was certainly preferable to drinking alone and examining her failures.

"All right," she said, sitting down. "But I've had a bad day, and if either of you make it worse, I'll hex you."

Severus snorted, and she had the distinct impression he was amused at the thought of her trying to hex him.

Lucius wore a satisfied smile. "Would you care for something else to drink? Severus and I are having a rather fine single malt whisky." He gestured toward the bottle.

She gave it a suspicious look. "No, thank you."

Lucius chuckled. "Do you think we'd try to poison you?"

"I don't know. Maybe," she answered, frowning. "It would certainly go along with the day I've had."

"Lucius wouldn't desecrate a 30-year old whisky with a potion of any kind," Severus said. "If we were going to poison you, it would already be in your glass."

She picked up the glass. "Which means the rum is safe to drink, or you wouldn't have told me."

Severus smirked. "Or it means that I knew you wouldn't believe me."

"I should know better than to talk to Slytherins," she muttered, exasperated. She lifted the glass in a defiant salute to Severus and took a sip. "Is it slow acting or will I die soon?"

"Very slow acting," Severus said dryly. "Barring ill health, it should probably take effect in another 150 years or so."

Snape -- Severus, Hermione reminded herself -- had just joked with her, albeit in a Snapeish sort of way. It was entirely possible the world was coming to an end. She blinked and changed the subject. "This doesn't seem like the sort of place either of you would frequent."

"I'm thinking of purchasing the establishment, and we decided to look it over," Lucius said smoothly. "With some improvements, I believe it could be quite profitable. You're working for Gringotts, I believe?"

Ah, so that's what this is about, she thought.

"Yes, I am, but I don't choose my assignments," she said. "So if you're thinking of trying to fiddle the loan--"

"I hardly need to borrow money," Lucius said, and for an instant he looked affronted. "But I always consult an Arithmancer before I make an offer on a business. Long-term calculations are something most people overlook, but I've found them invaluable."

She found herself nodding along. He might be an arrogant bastard about some things, but he was right about the Arithmancy.

"I'm under contract to Gringotts for five more years," she said. "Until then, I can't accept outside employment." She looked at Snape. "I'd heard you own the Apothecary. It's certainly changed for the better. It was very disorganised, but now I can find things when I shop."

"My predecessor apparently arranged things according to whim," Severus answered. "There was no logical reason for some of his decisions regarding the placement of items."

"I haven't seen you there, so I wasn't certain the rumours about you purchasing the shop were true," she offered.

"I prefer to stay out of the public eye," Severus answered. There was a sudden sharp edge to his voice, and silence fell over the table.

After a few awkward moments, Lucius spoke. "You're here alone? You're clearly not waiting for someone, or you would have left when they were so late to arrive."

She hesitated. She wasn't certain she should tell them -- she had no desire to be ridiculed -- but the wizarding world was far too small for her divorce to remain a secret for long. Finally, she gave a mental shrug. If they insulted her, she was entirely serious about the hexing.

"I wanted to have a drink; my divorce was finalised today," she said, lifting her chin.

"Are you celebrating or mourning?" Lucius asked. "One never knows whether to offer congratulations or condolences."

Her tiny smile was rueful. "I think I'm doing a little of both."

Lucius cleared his throat delicately. "If you'll allow me to offer some advice, you should indulge in things you didn't do during your marriage. Travel to places that were uninteresting to your former spouse, attend the plays and concerts you prefer. It will make things less difficult for you."

Her answering nod was uncertain. Lucius Malfoy was offering her advice? They obviously wanted something; otherwise, this was just surreal.

"I'll remember that," she said. "Thank you."

"From what I've seen of it, divorce is difficult for everyone involved," Severus said, "but it's preferable to a lifetime of making each other miserable."

"Have you ever been married?" she asked. At the time of his trial, Severus had testified he was single, but she didn't know about his past.

"No. I've never been a proponent of marriage," he said. "Some people, of whom I am one, simply aren't suited to living with another person. It's best to acknowledge that and avoid the mistake."

"You don't want children someday?" Hermione asked, curious.

Severus looked appalled at the prospect. "Children are greedy, noisy, wilful little miscreants who constantly leak some form of bodily fluid well into their teens. The highlight of every school year was sending them back to their parents. Why would I want one of my very own?"

Hermione couldn't help it; she snickered. "I don't want children, either. And I'm starting to believe you're right about marriage. I don't think I'll try it again."

"You're simply jaded at the moment," Lucius said. "One always is after a divorce, something to which I can attest. Marriage can have its good qualities. Companionship, for example."

"That's what pets are for," Severus said firmly.

"Physical companionship," Lucius continued.

"A suitable number of galleons will purchase that in Knockturn Alley and doesn't require a lifelong commitment," Severus retorted.

As they went back and forth over what was obviously an old discussion between them, Hermione listened with a bemused expression. She knew people changed and that her previous views of both men were coloured by her experiences as a child, but they were obviously making a Herculean effort to be pleasant to her, and she still didn't know why. She frowned slightly, trying to puzzle out the answer.

Lucius noticed her expression first. "Is something wrong?"

It would outrage their Slytherin nature, but she decided to be blunt. "I was just wondering why you're really talking to me. This conversation would never have occurred a few years ago."

"Things change," Lucius said with a shrug, "and one must evolve as the circumstances demand."

"And circumstances demand you talk to me?" She raised an eyebrow.

Lucius hesitated and exchanged a glance with Severus before answering. "No, but they do demand we broaden our social circle. After the war ended, we found that one side was convinced we were merely biding our time until we knew who would win, and the other--"

"We betrayed the other." Severus finished the sentence, his voice flat.

Lucius smiled faintly. "I hadn't intended to speak so plainly, but yes."

Surprised, Hermione looked down into her drink. She knew there were people who assumed Lucius and Severus had waited to declare their loyalties until they were certain of an outcome, but she dismissed those people as idiots. It had taken direct threats against Draco to sway Lucius' allegiance, and Severus had worked against Voldemort for years and in the most dangerous way possible.

As for the others... While Voldemort's followers hadn't all been Death Eaters, she'd never considered that Lucius and Severus might think of those people as their friends, or that those same friends would now believe them to be traitors.

The war had been over for five years, but evidently neither side was willing to forgive or forget. Of all the reasons she might have imagined as the impetus for this conversation, simple loneliness wasn't one she would have considered.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her chair, uncertain of what to say, when her stomach growled loudly. Embarrassed, she flushed. "Excuse me."

A quirk of his lips was the only indication Lucius had heard either her stomach or her apology. "Severus and I had planned to have dinner," he said. "Would you like to join us?"

Hermione considered the prospect. It would be horribly rude to refuse after she'd demanded that disclosure from them. Besides, she was hungry, and it wouldn't hurt to have dinner with them.

She smiled. "I'd like that, thank you."

Lucius nodded. "I'll just go ahead and make certain everything is arranged." He was already rising and settling his cloak around his shoulders. "Severus, will you see to her arrival?"

"Yes," Severus answered, "but I'd like to speak with you before you go."

They walked toward the front door of the pub, conversing quietly, while Hermione put on her cloak, then Severus stood waiting for her at the door. They went out into the cold, clear night, and she pulled her cloak more tightly around her.

"If you become ill during Side-Along Apparition, don't vomit on me," Severus warned sternly.

"Side-Along Apparition?" She was surprised. "Where are we going?"

"Malfoy Manor," he answered, his eyes suddenly gleaming with amusement.

Hermione froze. She'd been expecting dinner at a restaurant, not at Lucius' home.

Severus stepped close to her and murmured into her ear. "You'll be perfectly safe. Lucius will most likely attempt to seduce you, but it's not the price of the meal. He enjoys entertaining, and he's rarely had the opportunity of late. I expect we'll dine like kings tonight."

With that, he offered her his arm and waited. She finally stepped next to him and placed her hand on his forearm. Before she could do more than register his scent of spice with a hint of wood smoke, they'd Apparated away.

~*~*~*~

A dizzying moment later, she stood in the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor. White marble gleamed underfoot, and a crystal chandelier blazed with light. The pastoral landscapes on the white-plastered walls were devoid of figures, so there were no curious eyes to watch their arrival. Gilded objets d'art were placed around the foyer, and elegant chairs with slender legs and brocaded seats offered a fatigued guest a moment's rest.

A house elf wearing a pristine tea towel appeared and silently took their cloaks.

Hermione frowned. "I don't approve of--"

"Yes, I recall your ill-fated attempts to free the house elves," Severus interrupted. "It was the talk of the staff room for months. You have no idea how badly you upset the elves or how difficult you made things for everyone else. However, I have mentioned your aversion to Lucius. Your interaction with house elves will be kept to a minimum tonight."

She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could speak, Lucius strode toward them. "I see you've arrived safely."

"Yes, thank you. Your home is lovely," she said, and she meant it. It was a little too opulent for her tastes, but it was beautiful.

Lucius smiled, clearly pleased at the compliment and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. "Shall we go in to dinner?"

She nodded and glanced at Severus, who smirked at her, and she allowed herself to be led into the dining room.

Not once while dining did she see a house elf. The dishes simply appeared and then disappeared at the appropriate time, and the water and wineglasses constantly refilled themselves to a three-quarter level. The meal was as delicious as promised, and the conversation was interesting, ranging from Hermione's favourite art and books to Lucius' plans to convert The Toad and Tortoise into a restaurant to Severus' research into a more cost-effective and less dangerous form of Felix Felicis.

After dinner, they moved into Lucius' library for port. Hermione was smitten as soon as they walked into the room. There were comfortable chairs and a sofa in front of the fire, tables with reading lamps, expensive statuary and paintings, but all Hermione saw were the book-filled shelves lining the walls from floor to ceiling.

Her eyes darted back and forth as she looked around. "Oh, what a wonderful room," she breathed. She was already drifting toward the shelves when Severus spoke.

"If we don't stop her now, she'll spend the rest of the evening reading," he warned. "She's a notorious bibliophile."

Hermione tilted her head to read the titles at eye level. "Is that a first edition Arithmancy and Alchemical Properties?" she asked, her voice rising with excitement.

"You see?" Severus said, taking a seat on the sofa. "It's begun already."

Hermione smiled. "I do like books. Ron always complained about the number of--" She stopped speaking abruptly. For the past few hours, she'd forgotten all about the divorce and about Ron. Uncertain whether she felt guilty or relieved, she sank down on the sofa next to Severus.

Lucius mistook her silence. "You're not allowed to become maudlin," he chided.

"I'm not," she said, "which is what surprised me. I'd expected to spend the evening alone, and instead I'm enjoying myself."

Lucius smiled. "How could you not, with such charming company to distract you?"

Severus snorted at that, and Lucius shot him a look that would have caused a lesser man to quail. As it was, Severus merely rolled his eyes, and Hermione smiled.

At a side table, Lucius poured out glasses of wine, handed one to Hermione and Severus each, then retrieved his own glass.

Warm and relaxed, she sipped the wine, a tawny port that tasted of figs and burnt sugar and shone dark amber when held to the light. She really was having a lovely time, and Lucius and Severus, each in their own way, were making such an effort to be charming.

At the moment, they were once again discussing the merits of Lucius buying The Toad and Tortoise, and the low masculine murmur rising and falling was hypnotic. She leaned back, resting her head against the back of the sofa and surreptitiously examined both men over the rim of her wineglass.

They were different and yet alike in so many ways. Lucius caught the eye like shining light, all silver and gilt and pale grey eyes, while Severus was drawn in shadows, ink black, fluid and enigmatic. Both men were intelligent and intense, and in this perfect room, sipping a glass of excellent wine, it was easy to allow her mind to wander, to contemplate what it would be like to have all that unwavering focus directed at her in an intimate way…

Her thoughts were interrupted by Lucius' voice calling her name. She blinked, and saw Severus staring at her, one dark eyebrow raised.

"I'm sorry. Would you repeat that?" she said. "I think the firelight had me mesmerised."

"We can't have that," Lucius said. "The evening is still young, and we should have music. I have a music box I think you'll enjoy. It took months for the manufacturer to complete the charm work." He walked over to a table beside the sofa, and Hermione set her wineglass aside and stood to get a closer look.

The box itself was beautiful, made of highly polished black walnut with an elaborate silver inlay. Lucius lifted the lid and tapped a section of the padded silk interior with his finger. Immediately, the strains of a waltz filled the room. Hermione's eyes widened. This wasn't the tinkling Muggle version of a music box; a full orchestra performed this song.

"This would be just the thing for a party," she exclaimed. "No more relying on the Wizarding Wireless Network for music."

"Yes, it would be just the thing for a party," Lucius agreed, but his smile tightened.

Hermione winced inwardly at her own tactlessness. There probably hadn't been any parties at Malfoy Manor in quite some time, nor did it appear that there would be any soon.

Impulsively, she bobbed a curtsy, and made her best attempt at a posh accent. "Would you care to risk your toes and dance with me?"

Lucius gave a soft laugh and then bowed slightly. "I'd be delighted."

As she took his proffered hand, she warned him, "All joking aside, I don't dance very well."

"I'm not worried," he assured her. "I'm sure my toes are quite safe."

They made tight circuits around the library, and at first, Hermione felt clumsy and awkward, but those feelings soon vanished. The music was glorious, and Lucius was an exceptional dancer. He was also a considerate partner, avoiding the elaborate turns and dips that might be too complex for her.

As they turned, she caught the barest trace of his scent. He smelled of fresh linen and soap, crisp and clean, and Hermione unconsciously leaned into him. He pulled her closer as the dance progressed, his hand tightening on her waist, his fingers stroking her back lightly.

"You see? You dance very well with the right partner." Lucius' voice lowered and his tone became intimate. "You simply need a man with experience."

Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine. His thighs were brushing hers, and his hair felt like silk as it fell over her hand. She was suddenly and acutely aware that while Lucius was slender, there was muscle there. He would be a demanding bed partner, she decided, but with a playful nature.

"Severus said you'd try to seduce me." She sounded breathless, even to her own ears.

Lucius tilted his head inquisitively. "Am I succeeding?"

Hermione smiled. "I haven't decided yet."

Severus watched them intently as they waltzed past the sofa, and she wondered if this scenario had played out often -- Lucius flirting and attempting to seduce a woman, whilst Severus remained on the sidelines. It seemed familiar territory for him, and that struck her as being terribly unfair. Lucius was, admittedly, a more handsome man, but Severus had his own appeal.

Lucius saw her gazing over his shoulder. "Severus doesn't usually dance, but I'm sure he could be persuaded," he said. "Although, I'm wounded that I've lost your attention."

She looked back at Lucius. "You haven't lost my attention," she said, "but I will admit you're both very attractive in different ways."

"And now you're having difficulty deciding which of us to choose?" Lucius' voice had dropped to a whisper.

"Aren't you being presumptuous?" she asked, her mouth going dry.

"No," he said, still in that soft whisper, and pulled her even closer. "I don't believe I am. You were miles away a few moments ago, but you were looking at both of us with a particularly hungry expression."

Hermione felt dizzy as room and the possibilities swirled around her. If it had been just one of them -- either one, really -- she would never have considered it. It was a terrible cliché, after all. The desperate divorcee, starved for a man's attention and having sex with the first man available. But she wasn't desperate, and it wasn't just one of them.

"Actually--" She struggled to keep her tone light. "I don't want to choose at all. I think I should have you both."

There was a long moment in which the butterflies took up residence in Hermione's stomach, and then Lucius smiled slowly.

"Well, well," he murmured. "You are full of surprises."

Lust and relief swept over her in equal measure. "You did advise me to do things I wasn't able to do whilst married."

"So I did." Lucius laughed. "How do you intend to approach Severus with your... proposition?"

"I hadn't thought it through that far. Do you have any more advice?" Her expression turned hopeful.

Lucius shook his head. "But I have every confidence in your abilities."

~*~*~*~

The dance drew to a close, and Lucius kissed her hand lightly before excusing himself for a moment.

As Lucius left the library, she turned to Severus. She wasn't quite certain how to proceed. There was probably some approved Slytherin method where nothing was said outright and everything was accomplished by oblique remarks, but she wasn't a Slytherin, and she didn't want any misunderstandings.

Severus set aside his glass of port and smiled faintly. "Has Lucius managed to seduce you yet?"

"No," she answered, "but I think I've managed to seduce him." She took a deep breath and reminded herself that Gryffindors were supposed to be bold. "The question is now whether I'll manage to seduce you?" she continued.

There was a flicker of sly amusement in his dark eyes. "Both of us? How greedy you are."

Her eyes narrowed a fraction. He wasn't surprised at all, which went against everything she would have expected. And wasn't the opening for this conversation just a little too pat? He'd been staring at her earlier when she was thinking about... Her eyes widened.

"Did you use Legilimency on me?" she asked.

A hint of a smirk appeared on his lips. "Without your permission? That would be rude."

"That's not an answer." She put her hands on her hips.

"But there's no point in answering. If I deny it, you'll be determined not to believe me, and if I say yes, you'll be outraged."

She sighed. She'd always hated it when he was right. "If you didn't, then I suppose that I was wrong to suspect you, and if you did, then don't do it again."

There, she thought. He didn't quite answer, and she didn't quite apologise.

His smirk widened at that. "Shall we call a truce, then? You did say something about seduction, and I find that a very intriguing subject."

She frowned. "I think the mood's off now."

He fixed her with his eyes and stood, stepping close enough to smell the smoky spiced scent of him. He reached out with one long finger and briefly touched her bottom lip. "Is it?" he asked, his voice silky.

Her heart was suddenly pounding.

He was whispering now. "I don't think the mood's off at all. I am curious about one thing. What will happen if I refuse? Will you stay with Lucius?"

She shook her head, and she matched that intimate whisper. "This isn't a case of one or the other. I'm attracted to you both."

His lips curved in a lazy smile. "You always were an overachiever."

Her breathing was uneven now. "If I'm to seduce you, I suppose I should start with a kiss?"

"That would be a sensible approach," he agreed, leaning closer still.

She slowly reached up and placed her hands on his shoulders. Rising on her toes, she kissed him softly on one corner of his mouth and then the next, before tilting her head and kissing him more firmly. Her tongue traced the seam of his lips. Severus obliged her by opening his mouth, and she allowed her tongue to delicately stroke along his before pulling back, her hands still resting on his shoulders.

A softly cleared throat interrupted them, and they looked over to see Lucius standing in the doorway, smiling widely.

"I told you I was confident in your abilities. As fond as I am of the library, perhaps we should adjourn to a more comfortable location," he said.

Hermione nodded and looked back at Severus, who watched her with hooded eyes. She held out her hand and waited.

Severus smiled slightly as he took her hand, and they followed Lucius from the library.

~*~*~*~

It was likely Lucius' bedroom was exquisitely decorated, but the only things Hermione could see were the large bed and the two men in the room with her. Time seemed to warp, speeding up and slowing down without regard to the laws of nature. Her world dissolved into blurs of colour and light and sensation, of touching and being touched, kissing and being kissed, and of the taste of figs and burnt sugar lingering in her mouth.

Lucius' smooth body, ruddy in the glow of the firelight, and Severus' alabaster skin accented with crisp dark hairs. Falling back on the bed in a tangle of limbs, with Lucius sucking at her nipples and Severus pushing her legs apart. Writhing on the sheets with a hot wet mouth pressed against her throat and the slow drag of a tongue over her clit. Deft hands and light caresses that drew her hips up to press into teasing fingers, a whine caught in the back of her throat.

Kneeling on all fours, Severus' cock in her mouth, and Lucius thrusting into her hard from behind. Staring down at Severus' face, his head thrown back, eyes closed, eyelashes fluttering against pale cheeks as she slid down onto his cock. Lucius sitting back on his heels, hands gripping her hips as she rose and fell with Severus behind her, his hands caressing her breasts.

Breathy laughter in her ear and the murmured whisper of a charm. Floating inches above the bed and being turned onto her side, weightless and tethered only by the hands that held her body. Lucius' fingers slick with lubrication pressing into her arse as Severus fucked her, and moaning as those fingers were slowly replaced by Lucius' cock. Both men moving inside her and thrusting in counterpoint; two voices, strained and demanding, coaxing her toward climax and fighting their own release. Threefold pleasure coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust, each breath, each word until she was babbling nonsense and they were crying out as the world flew apart in bright white shards.

Time reassembled into the familiar tick, tick, tick of seconds and minutes and hours, and they slowly pulled away from her. The levitation spell was ended, settling them gently back onto the bed. Hermione twisted first to the right and then the left, to press kisses onto sweaty shoulders. She gave a vague thought to saying something profound and meaningful, but could only manage a blissful, languid smile and the sure and certain knowledge that no one she'd ever known would have expected this of her, and that she'd enjoyed every minute of it.

~*~*~*~

A doorman nodded politely to Hermione and held open the door to The Toad and Tortoise. She paused just inside, as she always did, to take in the changes. Transformed into a five-star wizarding restaurant by a staff of experts and more money than Lucius cared to admit, the name was the only thing left of the old pub. During the renovations, Lucius had proposed various names, each one more outrageous than the next. Even Severus had suggested a few, but Hermione had frowned at each one until they'd finally given up, and The Toad and Tortoise it had remained.

Fulbert, the headwaiter, hurried over to greet her. "Madam Granger, it's lovely to see you again. Everything has been prepared, just as you requested, and Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Snape haven't arrived yet."

"Good. I want it to be a surprise," she said.

"Madam Granger..." He discreetly wrung his hands, clearly torn between doing what she wanted, and being terribly confused that she wanted it at all. "Are you quite certain about the arrangements? Surely you realise your usual table is in a better location? The best location, in fact." His voice lowered to a scandalised whisper. "There's not even a cloth on that other table."

Hermione stifled a grin. "Yes, I know."

He sighed and all but threw up his hands in disgust. He led her past tables draped in crisp white linens and accented with tasteful flower arrangements. In the corner by the Ladies', two glasses of whisky and one red currant rum were waiting on the bare wood of a battered table.

"This is perfect," she said, nodding.

Fulbert visibly winced as he looked at the table, but forced a smile and held out her chair.

Hermione sipped the rum as she waited. She was being sentimental, but this was their anniversary, and she wanted things to be just as it was on the night it all began.

None of them had expected it to occur again. When she'd left the next morning, the previous evening had been politely ignored, but two weeks later, she'd gone into the Apothecary, and Severus had come out from the backroom to talk to her. Just the sight of him had brought the events of that night flooding into her mind, and she'd had such a surge of lust that her hands had trembled. Three days later, she'd received another invitation to dinner at Malfoy Manor, and once again the three had ended up in bed together. This time, they'd discussed it and agreed that they saw no reason their arrangement shouldn't continue as long as they were happy with it.

So far, they'd been happy with it for thirty years.

They couldn't live together, of course, not in any combination. They all enjoyed a lively debate, but rarely argued outright. However, when they did argue, it was spectacular. As long as they were each able to return to their own homes (or in Lucius' case, demand that they leave his,) whenever they required solitude, then everything was fine.

The word love was never spoken amongst them, although Hermione knew that's what it had become. It was a different type of love, perhaps, than the usual sort accepted by society, but then they weren't the usual sort of people.

Her musings were interrupted by Lucius' voice. "Why is Fulbert sulking?"

Lucius and Severus were standing at the table. There was silver in their hair now, and Lucius sometimes used his cane as more than just an affectation. Both she and Severus required spectacles for reading, and they were all losing the war with gravity, but they could still make her hands tremble.

She gestured at the bare table. "I believe this has offended his delicate sensibilities."

Lucius snorted as he sat down. "Sometimes he forgets who's the owner and who's merely the waiter."

Severus sat next to her and looked at her drink, his tone becoming sardonic. "Red currant rum and sitting in front of the bog? You always were so sentimental."

Hermione ignored the sarcasm. "I thought it would be nice to recreate our first night together. We'll have a drink here, then go back to the manor for dinner, and I'll seduce you both all over again." She smiled. "Do you think anyone could have expected we'd be sitting here together thirty years later?"

"Certainly not your friends," Lucius said. "They were horrified."

"Well, Ron and Harry did stop being quite so scandalised after the first few years," Hermione said.

"Or Draco," Lucius continued.

"Draco was never scandalised; he was only worried we'd be put into the will," Hermione said.

"Speaking of your friends, Ron Weasley came into the shop this morning," Severus said. "He had his first grandchild with him."

"Yes, I gave them a pram as a gift," Hermione said. "The baby's name is Harry Bilius Longbottom, poor thing. Isn't that awful?"

"Do you ever regret you didn't remain married to Weasley?" Severus asked, curious.

Hermione shook her head. "Ron and Hannah are happy together. I'm glad he remarried. We were only together because everyone expected it."

"And here you are, in a relationship no one expected," Lucius said.

She smiled fondly at that echo of those long ago words. "Yes," she said. "Here we are."

~*~*~*~

Author's Notes: Thanks to Kaitkaitkait, Shadowycat, Whitemunin, and Zafania for nudges, handholding, Brit-picking, and discussion regarding the differences between scotch and whisky.