Fic: An Order of Potions... (Harry/Sirius/Snape/Remus, NC-17) for venturous1 Author:littleblackbow Recipient:venturous1 Title: An Order of Potions With a Side Order of WTF (or The Last Time Hermione Ever Volunteered her Services to the Order of the Phoenix Without Being Asked) Rating: NC-17 Pairing(s): Harry/Sirius/Snape/Remus, Harry/Draco (implied) Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. All characters engaging in sexual activity are 16 years or older. And I just hope I'm not struck by lightning for what I'm doing with them. Summary: Hermione really is too clever for her own good. It's too bad Sirius' luck runs eternal. Warnings: 4-some, potions accidents, explicit, explicit sex Word count: ~3600 Author's Note: Thanks to my emergency beta(s)!! You know who you are. I hope you like this, Venturous, I wanted to write something that would make you smile since it really sounded as if you needed one.
There are very few things in the world that would sour the stomach of Hermione Granger. On that list, even fewer would make her nauseous simply by looking at them.
It was unfortunate, therefore, that she walked into the kitchen at precisely two-fifteen on that Saturday to check on the progress of her potion.
At two-seventeen, she had just made it to the toilet in time.
Actually, it would not have been quite so bad if it was not ALL HER FAULT. And, of course, there was the fact that she could do absolutely nothing to stop it at this point.
After rinsing out her mouth and wiping her face with a flannel, she ran down the hall to the second floor floo and called for Dumbledore.
4 days earlier
"I'm telling you, it will work!" She told her best friends as they sat in Harry's room at 12 Grimmauld place. "It's a complex potion, but anyone could easily toss it at him if they got in close enough. All it takes is physical contact to work."
They'd been fighting Voldemort for years now. Their final year at Hogwarts had just finished, and the three of them joined the Order immediately. After all, with Dumbledore stepping down as Headmaster in the middle of their fifth year, and after the battle at the Ministry during which Pettigrew (who had polyjuiced himself to look like Sirius) was killed, they knew things were getting serious.
"So, who's gonna get near him?" Ron asked, looking intently at Hermione. "Not you. I mean, you're great and all, but I think it oughta be someone who could—"
"No, not me, Ronald. Actually, there are a few possibilities. The main problem is in brewing it. This is a potion that is extremely sensitive to human emotion. Even the slightest raised voice could set it off."
"That leaves my place right out," Ron said, rolling his eyes.
"As well as Hogwarts," Hermione added.
"Well, you could brew it here. There are plenty of rooms that are never used." Harry had been living at the house with Sirius since he graduated. Remus Lupin also lived here, and the Order was still using it as headquarters.
"I would need a room in which it would not be disturbed under any circumstances."
"You could use the cellar. I'm pretty sure nobody's been down there for years. Well, maybe Kreacher, but he leaves well enough alone."
Ron nodded and scooted over a little closer to Hermione. He fidgeted with the edge of his jumper. "So, it isn't dangerous for you to brew at all, is it?"
"Not if I'm left alone while I'm working," she said with a slight smile.
Harry rolled his eyes and turned away. He'd seen enough of this in the past few weeks, and it was always a cue for him to leave the room so they could get on with their snogging.
He went down the hall to Sirius' room and found the door closed. When the door was closed all the way, it could only mean that Remus was in the room with him, and they didn't want to be disturbed.
Which was a pity considering just how much Harry would like to have come between them.
As it turned out, the potion would take three days to brew, and then had to rest for a full week before it was finished. Hermione was left to her own devices for the most part, with an occasional message brought to her by Dobby to let her know when it was time for meals or if it was approaching an obscenely late hour.
In hindsight, she realized she ought to have consulted Professor, no, Mr. Snape about the potion. Perhaps invited him to assist her, or at the very least, let him know what she was trying to accomplish.
As it was, though, he wasn't around the house very much, and she didn't particularly want to bother him at Hogwarts about something like this. After all, she prided herself in being adept at these sorts of things, and inviting him into the process would most assuredly be seen as asking him for help in his eyes.
Finally, the potion was finished brewing, and it was time to let it cool and cure.
Hermione read through the instructions once more just to make sure everything was set and ready to go.
The potion will be extremely potent during the first two days, then for the next three days, it will have less than half the final potency, and finally, it will gradually stabilize, ready to use on the 7th day after brewing has been completed.
"Alright. So, I let this sit for… Oh no!"
During the curing time, the temperature of the potion must not fall below 15ºc.
It was winter. The basement was cold. And she couldn't possibly be there, casting heating charms on it the whole time. Nobody could be expected to do that.
She'd have to think of something else.
"Kreacher!" she called.
"Kreacher does not serve Mu-"
"Never you mind that, or I'll tell Sirius to free you. Is there a place up in the house proper that is not used by anyone?"
"No," he said gruffly.
"Is there a place that's only used by you, then?" she asked, grasping at straws.
"The kitchen. Is there anything else?"
"No, that's all. Thank you, Kreacher."
Hermione stood there for a moment looking at the cauldron bubbling. She would have to risk moving it into the kitchen, then.
Sirius pushed his way through the door so hard that it slammed the wall on the other side. "I can't believe you expect me to stay here while the rest of you are out there fighting! Where the hell do you get off--?"
"Might I remind you, Mr. Black, that if it weren't for your rash and uncalculated behavior six weeks ago, we might not be in this war any longer? Hmmm?"
"Fuck off, Snape! I don't need to hear it from some greasy, slimy two-faced git like you!"
"Oh, so mature, Black, tell me, is it the in-breeding that draws this out of you?"
Harry and Remus followed the two men. "Look, Snape, I know you're upset, but you don't have to take it out on him like that. It wasn't his fault."
"Actually, Harry, they were both to blame in that case. If they would have been able to just set aside their differences for a—"
"I don't need any help from your pet werewolf, Mr. Black. Please call him off for a… what's that smell?"
None of them had noticed the cauldron sitting on the table when they came in. Of course, what was there to notice? It was a large cauldron sitting in the kitchen of a very old Wizarding house.
No, it was only after the cauldron began bubbling on its own that anyone took notice; and by the time Snape realized what was in there, it was too late.
The charged emotions in the room had set it off in a fantastic explosion, and shortly all four men were covered in a thick, sticky, white potion.
"What the hell is this?" Sirius shouted, shaking some of the dripping goo off of his hands.
Harry just stood there in shock for a moment before he realized what it was. "Fuck! Remus, Sirius… quick, take off your clothes. Snape…"
Snape sniffed at the concoction and his eyes grew as wide as a house elf's. "Who would? No, never mind," he shouted, tearing at his buttons. "Quick, take off your clothes, Black!"
"What the fuck?" Sirius took a step away from Snape and found himself backed up against a table. He looked over to Remus was standing. His lover had begun to undress, and was looking at him with the most lustful expression he'd ever seen on the man.
"I said… take… off… your—"Snape's breathing had become laboured, as he approached Sirius. Before he could finish his demand, Sirius found that he'd reached up and pulled Snape down to his face for an incredibly deep kiss.
Harry went directly up to Sirius and pulled off his shirt and started working down his Godfather's trousers. Remus went up behind Snape and did the same. What had been a kitchen full of four men arguing only a few moments ago had exploded into a frantic race to remove every stitch of clothing and get as much physical contact as possible.
"Fu—gonna… Fuck you, Sirius," Harry whispered into his Godfather's ear. Snape had descended upon Sirius' cock and was doing the most magnificent thing with his tongue. So, there was no way Sirius could have protested, even if he wanted to at that point.
He was actually watching Remus line himself up behind Snape, slowly pushing into the man's arse when he felt Harry's fingers at his hole. He had to do something. Fast.
Without thinking, he pulled Snape up onto the table, and leaned across it, himself, taking Snape's cock into his mouth while lifting one leg to give Harry better access. All other thoughts were gone. From this vantage point, not only could he see Remus pushing his dick into Snape's arse, spreading that pasty white skin wide with his thickness, but Snape was still sucking him off, and he could feel Harry line himself up against his hole.
Something slippery was rubbed against him – olive oil, perhaps? – at least Harry had the sense to do that. Sirius wasn't sure he would have if he were in the same position.
And then, all of a sudden, he was full. His mouth was full, his arse was full, and Snape was still sucking him off as if he was milking out the manna of life.
Remus was fucking Snape hard. So hard, it made Snape's cock jerk against Sirius' teeth. Harry was much less forceful, and once he set into a rhythm, he put Sirius' leg up over his shoulder so he could pet back Snape's hair, and kiss the inside of Sirius' knee as he pumped.
Gods it was wonderful. Every movement, every moan and every grunt added to the experience. There were no distinctions between where one body began and the other one ended. All four of them were linked together so tightly that there wasn't room for thought.
Harry felt the pressure building up inside of him. Sirius' arse was so tight. The thought went through his head that he probably was the one fucking Remus' arse all those nights when the door was closed.
Snape was the first to come. Remus' cock had this magnificent curve to it that managed to massage his prostate a good third of the time on the in-stroke. That, coupled with the fact that Sirius managed to not only suck his cock in a way he hadn't known was humanly possible, but was also fondling his balls and running a finger along his perineum, set him over the edge. As he started to explode in orgasm, Sirius pulled away, relishing the feel of the come on his face.
And the clenching, and spasms set Sirius and Remus off, as well. Remus pushed in one last time – balls deep inside the man, he came with a loud howl.
The howl that always set Sirius off. Snape, unlike Sirius, took all of the cock, and all of the semen he was offered. Swallowing deeply, Sirius saw stars as he unloaded into the mouth of his nemesis.
And then it was Harry's turn. He only had to feel the beginning of Sirius' orgasm, watch the look on Remus' face, the come dripping off of Sirius' face and he was pushed over the edge, himself. Buried deep in Sirius' arse, he bit down on Sirius' knee as he came, gasping desperately for breath.
All four men were completely lost in the moment, so it wasn't any surprise that none of them noticed Hermione rushing down the hallway to stop them, only to find that she was too late – far, far too late.
Almost half an hour had passed before Dumbledore arrived. Hermione had set up a chair just outside the kitchen to stand "Guard Duty" as it were, casting silencing charms on the room just in case anyone else from the Order came by.
"How long have they been in there?" Albus asked her as he strode past.
"Half an hour. I've… been checking on them. Not much, really, just to make sure they're all still alive and nobody's, um, injured."
Dumbledore nodded. He opened the kitchen door and peeked inside.
By this time, the spell was still in effect, but the men had little or no energy left. All four of them were sitting on the floor of the kitchen, holding each other. Their eyes were glazed over, and other than an occasional kiss or gentle petting on the arms or legs, they were motionless.
Dumbledore went inside. He banished the rest of the potions, and cast a quick cleansing spell on the men. "Hermione, would you be so kind as to fetch a few blankets from the upstairs linen cupboard?"
Harry looked up at the person who was talking to him, then snuggled closer into Sirius' embrace. His eyes were hazy, his glasses were cracked, and he looked almost gaunt in the face.
"I have no doubt that if this potion could have been used on the Dark Lord, it would have worked. So, I suppose there is that to be said."
When Hermione brought the blankets, he took them and wrapped one around Harry's shoulders. "They'll all have to be moved together, and into the same bed, I'm afraid. I think the effects should wear off shortly, and they will need nourishment."
Hermione nodded. "I'll floo Molly and see if I can pick something up."
Dumbledore looked doubtful. "Actually, it might be best if we summoned Dobby here and had him make the food, himself. The fewer people who know about this incident, the better."
To say that things were awkward at 12 Grimmauld Place after that event would be putting it very mildly, indeed. They had set up a room for Professor Snape just down the hall from Harry's, and across from Sirius (and Remus') rooms. As much as he hated to admit his vulnerability, the one time he'd attempted sleeping back at Hogwarts, he'd been plagued with fits of restlessness, and his skin crawled with gooseflesh.
Close physical contact in the halls and at meals was also common. Harry would find any excuse to hold his Godfather's hand, or hug Remus, or even sit close enough to Professor Snape that they could "accidentally" touch shoulders or thighs.
Hermione was the first to realize that something was wrong. "Harry, are you alright?" she asked at the end of an order meeting. The members had unanimously voted to use the potion on Voldemort, and were asking for volunteers. As it was, only Harry, Snape or Dumbledore could likely get close enough to him to actually use it, and since Harry and Snape were still under the effects, they were ruled out.
"I'm fine, Hermione."
"You don't look fine. And you don't…"
Sirius came up behind Harry and gave him a hug. "I'm sorry, I just had to—you know."
Harry smiled and patted Sirius' hand. When his Godfather let go and went off to find Remus, Harry forced a smile. "It's like that, you see? All the time. A sudden overwhelming need for close physical contact. How long will it be like this, Hermione?"
"A fortnight," she said softly. "Maybe a month. Actually, it was at its full potency and extremely unstable when you were affected, Harry. So, we just don't know."
Remus came up and put his hands on the back of Harry's neck, kissed the top of his head, and then went off again, looking somewhat disoriented.
"All the time, Hermione. Right now… Right now, I can feel it. It's taking all of my willpower to stay out of the Parlour where I know Snape is sitting, pretending to read a book but just fighting the urge to find one of us." Harry scrubbed a hand down his face. "We have to do something!"
Harry shifted from one foot to the other, fidgeted with the edge of his jumper, and finally gave Hermione an apologetic look and raced off into the parlor, plopping himself down in Snape's lap and wrapping his arms around his neck.
She could see Snape lean into the touch for a long moment, and then clear his throat, pointing off in another direction, in a sorry attempt to tell Harry to go away. Before he left, Harry nuzzled his face on Snape's cheek.
"God, that was disgusting," she muttered to herself as she turned away.
A month had passed – well, nearly a month, anyway. Harry really wasn't counting, his mind was more occupied with other things.
Snape had recovered before anyone else, of course. Sirius grumbled that he probably had an antidote brewed, and wasn't about to share with the rest of them. Harry was just glad that he was out of the house and back at school tormenting all of his unsuspecting students.
Still, it wasn't long after, that Sirius and Remus both recovered, as well. They could go through the whole day without unnecessary physical contact. Although they still shared sleeping quarters at night. Then again, that was nothing new.
So, that left Harry. He wasn't sure what it was that compelled him to sleep out in the hallway just outside his Godfather's door. Yet, every night, after they went to bed, he'd sneak out, wrap himself up in a blanket, and camp out there until he heard the first stirrings of the two men in the morning. Then, he'd either sneak back into his own room, or go start breakfast.
Really, it was quite pathetic, and Harry knew it.
The night before the big plan was one of those that Harry spent camping out by Sirius' bedroom door. He desperately needed the comfort of knowing he was there. Something inside of him kept nudging him on, telling him that he ought to be the one who faced Voldemort. He couldn't just leave it to someone else – even if that someone was Albus Dumbledore.
He'd fallen asleep in his regular clothes, with a blanket wrapped around him. But today, he wasn't the first one to wake up. It was still dark outside, and in Harry's subconscious, he registered that the large grandfather clock in the hallway had not yet struck four.
"Harry," Dumbledore whispered, "I need you to come with me."
It took Harry a moment to realize what he was talking about, but once it registered, he sprang to his feet.
He had just received his invitation to battle.
Malfoy Manor was larger than he'd imagined. And he'd imagined pretty large – especially after seeing some of the events that had transpired here in his mind.
It was no surprise that security was pretty tight. Dementors were flying around the rooftops of the estate manor and outlying houses, there were large, burly characters patrolling around the house perimeter, and even Harry, who had not been specifically trained in detecting wards, could feel the layers upon layers of magical barriers that were protecting the place.
"Sir?" he whispered in barely a breath.
Dumbledore smiled and the twinkle in his eye this time spoke of plots and plans of which Harry was quite sure he was not made aware. Sometimes the man really could be a bastard.
Hermione hadn't received the full report, actually. After she got the note from Sirius that Harry was not at home, asking her if he'd stayed with her and Ron that night, she was quick to put two and two together and get something close to Armageddon with meringue on top.
By the time she and Ron had collected their things, got dressed, and floo'd over to 12 Grimmauld Place, a gaggle of people had already collected in the parlour. Lupin was the first to approach her. "Hello Hermione, Ron. Now before you come to any conclusions, I think you ought to know that it wasn't his idea, and this really may turn out to be—"
She tried to contain herself. Sirius went over to Ron and was attempting to hold him back. She saw Dumbledore, McGonagall, Molly, Arthur, and Charlie all standing around the sofa, making a sort of wall of people as it were.
"Sir, this morning?" she managed.
"Everything… will be alright. Harry was—You have to understand that he was the only one who could have defeated him."
Suddenly a sinking feeling came into her stomach as she registered just how solemn the Headmaster's tone was.
"Where is he? Where is—"
Ron had pushed past his father and was staring down at the sofa with a look of shock and sadness and disgust on his face. Hermione pressed up against him, and he allowed her space enough to look for herself.
"Oh, God, Harry," she moaned.
He was in one piece… and how! Harry was stretched out on the sofa sleeping, naked but for a blanket. Wrapped around him, and in his arms was an equally nude Draco Malfoy. Their faces were pressed tightly against each other. Draco had his arms wrapped around Harry's neck, and even though there was a blanket covering their lower halves, she could tell that their legs were intertwined.
Hermione had seen enough of this the last time. Suffering through another bout of Harry's pining over some git was more than she could handle. "I am DONE making potions for you lot!"