Hermione could have ignored their distress, if she wasn't stressed.
She could have pretended that Draco yearnings didn't leach into her as they lay in bed, and Severus' denial didn't make her fingers itch to dig themselves into Draco's perfect hair by rough handfuls.
She could have, maybe; this loomed very small compared to goddesses, cures, and body switched witches, this was the easiest of the worries to sate, sex.
Hermione knocked softly on the door to the cellar, Severus' grunt beckoning her in. She picked her way between crates of newly delivered ingredients, and new cauldrons
They had realized months ago that Severus Snape spent money on two things- books, potions ephemera mostly; and six good robes a year, a hold over from his teaching days.
He was seated at a desk tucked into a corner, glasses on, books opened in front of him.

Hermione took a deep breath as his eyes left the page,

"Would you please just fuck Draco!"

His eye brow rose.

"The way he wants you to."

"You do realize that I am more than a walking prick sent to quench his surfeit of desire?"

Hermione's lips pressed thin, she echoed his tone.

"You do realize that I share a bond with you, I feel him, I feel you! You like his desires."

He pushed the book away,

"It's complicated."

"One can imagine."

"Sarcasm does not become you."

Hermione shrugged,

"It's not just about sex you know."

"I." she paused pursing her lips, "I know that's not all but I don't understand, and I don't know if I can. But that doesn't matter as long as you both get what you want from it. You need it, and rejecting what ever it is won't make it better."

They stared each other down, neither willing to break eye contact.

"Please Severus?"

He nods, still refusing to break the staring competition, and accepts her kiss goodbye.

Severus Snape was a bastard, Hermione contemplated sending that thought screaming across their bond, but didn't.
He and Draco were doing... she didn't quite know what they were doing. It wasn't sexual and it was, it was a mating dance Slytherin style, long looks, snark, and soft touches, it had been going on three weeks, but tonight was the worse.
They've already ran Harry off, Draco's parents were staying away until "they stop posturing like two randy dragons".
Hermione's considering hiding out in the library when Severus takes Draco by the hand and calls to her.
In the bedroom he points her to her chair, while walking around a wide eyed Draco.
"You should thank Hermione Draco. She advocated for you quite effectively."
Draco's Adam's apple bounces, he stares pass Severus's shoulder at Hermione mouthing "Thank you.", she's sure that he's teared up.
"Strip."
It's a demand, Draco freezes staring at Severus, then strips by hand dropping each piece of clothing on the floor.

He's beautiful nude, she knows this, but usually they are all in the bed, even when it's just two of them going at it, the voyeur role is still participatory.
It's rare to be a true voyeur, sitting, watching.
But she is.
They are brutal in their love, much more so than when she was participating.
This was what Severus wanted her to know, and what she had shied away from acknowledging, the ferocious power that lay between them, a quickening of the darkness that they yielded to. A shudder ran through her.
Severus held a handful of Draco's white gold hair in his fist, and Draco beamed at him through friction plumped lips, ignoring what had to be a ridiculous amount of pain as his stripped behind was pressed into by his heels.
"You were phenomenal Draco."
If she hadn't been watching she wouldn't have known, not even via the bond did Draco leak what had to have been an enormous amount of emotional weight he carried, but Severus words shook him, a tear fell, then another, Draco kept his eyes on Severus.
"Thank you Sir."
Severus gathered him up in his arms, and then to bed, his large hands soothing along Draco's striped back. He whispered to Draco, and the silent tears turned to sobs that shook Draco's body, until he gasped for air.
She left them alone, her heart full and brimming as Draco slowly rewove his walls, allowing them in a bit more.
She smiled from the doorway at her men, they were damaged that much she was sure of, but they were made strong in their bond, and in whatever it was that they alone shared. Hermione slipped into the bathroom to draw a bath, giving them privacy for this intimate moment.

*

*

The soul of the land is in the womb of woman.
When they have met, and be of one accord.
My songs will travel in loosed mouths.
My spirit will quicken their wombs
My land shall be fertile
My women shall be fruitful
My spirit shall roam free.

Sybil pulled her pillow close, and rolled in her sleep.
Centuries later skeptics, and philosophers would argue if the documented prophecies were complete, or if Dumbledore had "in his 'wisdom'" refused to document the believed to be missing sections. They would discuss, loudly, sometimes violently, about the women. Who had they been, what they had done, how they had done it. But they all would agree that there had been a true prophecy.

*

Draco watched her with pride layered in admiration. Hermione standing at the lectern, her speech passionate, every eye following her as she spoke with zealousness on the role of mental health, the leaps in options to heal the mind, and just what the Narcissa Malfoy Ward was going to accomplish.
Lucius next to him smiled, this is what he had wanted for Draco; that would never happen. Draco was ill suited to it.
But Hermione gave him what he had sought for so long, the Malfoy name lacquered with respect. She was the representative of the House Malfoy, on her breast its crest in black gold, onyx, bloodstone, and diamonds.
After they stood to the side, and watched them, the intelligentsia, the powerful, those would wanted nothing to do with them- Malfoys, fluttering around Hermione, moths to her blinding flame.
"You have done well Draco. You have exalted what I often ignored, love. You have made a place for yourself, your family, and your children to come. I am proud of you."
Draco, forced himself to keep his eyes forward, swallowing around the lump that suddenly sprang into his throat, and nodded. Hermione looked across the room towards them, and smiled, her bright sunny smile that he knew she had always kept for those she loved. He rolled his shoulders, his back still sore from Severus' heavy hand, and smiled back, before resting a hand on his father's shoulder.
"Thank you father."