When first hearing that her parents had arranged her marriage to Draco Malfoy, Astoria is slightly surprised. She assumes that Daphne had been first choice, but her sister isn’t at all the type to follow something as traditional as arranged marriage, so she figures she’s second choice. Astoria grows accustomed to the idea over time, and she thinks it’s a decent match. Draco is somewhat aloof and superior, but she enjoys their conversations, and she knows she can grow to love him eventually.
The last thing she expects when marrying Draco is that she is also unknowingly becoming part of his dirty little secret. It is very dirty, in fact, and a secret that only four people know, even if others might whisper about things they don’t understand and gossip about filthy things far unbecoming a Pureblood family such as the Malfoys. If only those gossipy old bints knew that their filthiest whispers couldn’t even begin to describe what happens behind closed doors at their home. Not their home, actually, which should have been her first indication that things were not what they seem, but she, like everyone else, honestly believed that Harry and Hermione Potter allowed him to live with them because of his distant relationship to the former owner of their home.
It’s only after getting married that Astoria learns about a Muggle term polyamory, that she learns her new husband is part of a relationship that is very strong and not going anywhere regardless of the ring now on his finger, that she realizes she has married a man already in love with two others, that she finds out it’s possible to love more than one person at once. She also realizes that she has a place in their relationship, forming a corner of a square as the triangle shifts and changes shape. She finds out they chose her, the three of them reviewing the candidates provided by Draco’s parents, and they decided she fit with them more than any of the others. Not second best at all, but their first choice to appease his demanding parents without giving up their relationship.
It takes her time, obviously, but they are gentle with her. They appeal to the Ravenclaw nature she inherited from her mother, where she knows she should have been sorted if not for the prejudices of the sorting hat towards distant relatives who have different beliefs than her family ever did. She is given textbooks and parchments to read, and she is invited to watch. They seduce her, and she’s unable to resist. She doesn’t want to resist, not after seeing how affectionate they are, not after watching the men submit to Hermione in a way that makes her uncertain which one she envies most, not after listening to the sounds they make as they move together, such intimate and sexy noises that arouse her so much that she finally has to stop watching and actually join them.
That was three years ago, and she’s now an equal partner. She sleeps with her husband some nights. On others, she is curled up against the soft curves of Hermione with a breast in her hand as she sleeps. Still others, she is pulled against the hard planes of Harry’s body, his legs trapping her to him. The best nights, of course, are the ones when they are all together, four bodies spread out and curled together in a bed so large that anyone who sees it will have no doubts as to what they get up to together. There’s a reason people gossip about them, after all, and she doesn’t care if her behavior is shocking or that no one understands why two young married couples share a home instead of making their own way.
Astoria enjoys everything they do, but she has a particular fondness for Wednesday nights. It’s not every Wednesday, of course, but it’s often enough that she considers it a near weekly event. Wednesday is what Harry jokingly tells Draco is their revenge night, retribution for him being an arse growing up and for playing hard to get once Harry and Hermione had set their sights on him. She isn’t sure how he resisted for long, since they are a force to be reckoned with when their combined attention is focused, which is the reason she loves Wednesday night so much.
Draco is currently bound in a chair next to the bed. Close enough to smell and see everything, but not close enough to touch. There’s a gag in his mouth, and his pale face is already flushed. Astoria still finds it arousing to watch him submit to Hermione, who is the most dominant of them all, and she can’t help but rub her thighs together as she watches Hermione do her magic. Harry is behind her, and he starts fondling her breasts as they watch. Hermione teases him until he’s whimpering, the noises making Astoria’s nipple tighten beneath Harry’s fingers.
When Draco is secure, arms and feet bound, cock secured to prevent him from coming without permission, gag in his mouth, and a charm whispered that makes him feel as if his nipples are being pinched, Hermione joins them on the bed. Astoria leans into her kiss, feeling four hands stripping her naked and touching her everywhere. She presses back against Harry’s erection, moaning when Hermione licks at her, rolling her head so she can look at Draco’s face. Their gazes meet, and she smiles as she bucks up into Hermione’s mouth, forcing her tongue deeper.
Wednesday nights are definitely her favorite.
End
Wednesday Nights
Story Notes:
10/17/14