A/N: Okay, so I know this might be controversial because of the pairing. TJ is gay! Gay erasure! Just... don't flog me yet, okay? TJ came across as bi to me in the show but with a definite lean towards liking to be with men more. I mean, he even admits to sleeping with women on occasion and that breasts are awesome. I came across a story where smol Steve was dominant with TJ and I loved it and my brain (and the TJ in my head) said 'yes, please.' Steve and Bucky were already taken and... well, Hermione was right there.
So, that was the beginning of this little story. It sort of grew from there.
I'll tell you right now that D/s isn't my scene and that Fem Domme isn't even my typical cup of tea. I did a bit of light research but the majority of my knowledge comes from fics that explore these sorts of relationships. I hope I did it justice.
It ends a little ambiguously regarding the main characters' relationship. They have a lot more exploring to do, both with each other and with this new sort of intimacy and play. I'm not sure what I envision for their future and so I left it up to the reader's imagination.
This takes place after Still Need Shielding and before The Cat that Got the Canary.
It had been almost a year since the Dissolution of the Statue of Secrecy had gone global, almost a year since Hermione had seen TJ Hammond in the flesh. Not to say she hadn't seen him; they had Skyped and texted. The Skype calls slowed in frequency, then the texting slipped away. She hadn't heard from him in two months.
She missed him, of course, but she knew how busy life could be. When May rolled around, she made sure to send him a birthday present with a fun mix of Wizarding and Muggle sweets and snacks. He didn't text to let her know he got it or to say thank you. It made her a little sad but she chalked it up to him being busy.
It was mid-June on a Saturday and Harry was visiting for a late lunch to catch Hermione up on the gossip around the DMLE when the doorbell rang.
"You expecting guests?" he asked, setting his sandwich down as he watched her with a puzzled brow.
"No. It's my day off. Besides, anything with work would have come through the Floo." Since the Dissolution, there had been threats and other unpleasantness that comes from unwanted celebrity but no one but her friends had her address. She was still the Minister for Magic; the house was under a Fidelius Charm.
Hermione wiped her hands on her napkin and stood. She flicked her wand into her palm and approached the door cautiously, the bell half-dinged again and then whoever it was knocked heavily a few times.
"Hermione!" the voice through the door called, "Hey open up, please? I've missed you."
It sounded like... She opened the door to see TJ Hammond standing on her stoop. There was a suitcase next to his feet. "TJ?"
His grin showed off his slightly crooked top teeth. "Hey," he said. "Thanks for the birthday present." There was an awkward pause as she just looked at him. "Can I come in?"
"Yes," she said, belated, realising she should have already offered that. She had the briefest thought that she should ask him security questions but she pushed it away. She stepped back and held the door for him to enter. He did, setting his suitcase just inside before turning and giving her a hug. He squeezed tightly before pushing the door shut and grabbing for her hand.
"You've got a nice house, huh? Ought to, I guess, seeing as you're in charge of half the government or something."
Hermione was still confused, watching as he looked around at her home. Harry stepped into the foyer and at seeing TJ, put away his wand. He gave Hermione a look and it snapped her thoughts back into place. She pocketed her own wand and offered introductions. "Harry, this is TJ Hammond, the United States's President's son. We met last year for the Dissolution. TJ, this is Harry Potter. Head Auror of the Department of Law Enforcement and my best friend."
"Nice to meet you," TJ said, offering his hand to Harry. Harry stepped closer and finished the handshake. "Hey," he said, turning to Hermione, "I was wondering if we could talk?" He twitched his fingers where they hung at his sides as if he couldn't hold still.
"Yes, that's fine, umm," Hermione said, gesturing towards the living room. She didn't mind seeing TJ, in fact, she was happy to see him but it did feel odd for him to be here. He hadn't called or asked and his unexpected appearance had her feeling wrong-footed. He proceeded her into the living room and after a quick look around took a seat on the couch and reached for her to pull her down next to him. She was aware of Harry following behind them. "What it is, TJ? Have you been well?"
"I'm great!" His smile was wide but there was something wrong with it like it didn't quite reflect in his eyes. "I want to have a baby. Will you have a baby with me, Hermione?"
"What?" She asked, feeling dumbstruck by his declaration and his question.
He didn't seem to need much beyond that from her as he started to expound on his statement. "You know Dougie and Anne? They had twins, boy and girl, Jack and Michelle, and they're awesome! Dougie lets me babysit and I love it, I love them so much. They're precious... but... I want my own. And it's not like I'm very good at finding lasting relationships but you—you're amazing and you'd be a great mom and I... yeah. So, what do you think? Have a baby with me?" As he spoke his leg bounced rapidly; it made the cushion under Hermione vibrate.
She was still feeling overwhelmed by his words but there was something else. She took in his puffy, bloodshot eyes, the flush over his face, his over-eagerness. "Are you high?"
There was a scoff behind her as Harry spoke up from where he stood leaning against the door frame observing them. "Of course he is. The glazed look and the hyperactiveness didn't give it away? He looks like George did."
"Well, George's poison of choice was alcohol, so he technically wasn't high," she answered even as TJ frowned and his shoulders slumped.
"Wha... it's not that big a deal, come on, Hermione. Don't you start too."
She frowned even as the vibrations under her legs grew in intensity. "When did you slip up?"
"Who says it was a slip, huh? I just didn't—you know what?—it doesn't matter," he said, jumping to his feet. "This was a bad idea, I knew I shouldn't've—" he started to leave but Harry blocked his exit. "Excuse me," he said to try and get Harry to move. Harry just crossed his arms over his chest and planted his feet. He might have also palmed his wand.
"You're not leaving yet, mate."
"No, I've got to, I mean, I'll just..."
"Accio drugs!" Hermione said, pointing her wand at TJ. She raised her hand and caught the little vial of white powder and the bag of pills that zoomed out of his pockets. His suitcase slid sideways across the floor against its little plastic wheels and Harry turned at the noise to catch the second bag of drugs that had worked its way out past the zipper.
"No! Give those back!" TJ said, trying to grab at the things in Hermione's hands and then turned to try to get them from Harry. Harry wasn't as tall as TJ, but he was broader at the shoulders, more muscled. He wasn't going to budge from TJ's flustered grabs. "Please, no, I need those," he begged, turning back to Hermione.
"You don't need them. Now come over here and tell me what happened."
He threw his hands up in the air and then smacked them down on his legs, rolling his eyes and putting on a little tantrum like Hermione had seen each of Harry's children do when they were scolded for misbehaving. "I'll tell you if you give me my stuff back."
Hermione licked her lips and turned towards the coffee table. She conjured a glass box, tapping it a second time to make it unbreakable and then she put the drugs inside. Harry tossed the bag he had and she caught it despite TJ swiping at the air to try and grab it. She put that last bag in the box and snapped the lid closed, locking it. She returned her attention to TJ and gestured to the seat beside her. "I didn't immediately destroy them. Now sit and start talking."
He frowned but walked back around the couch to sit next to her. He kept his body facing forward though, crossing his arms over his chest and looking pointedly away from her like he could block her out.
She waited in silence and he did an admirable job of not fidgeting for three entire minutes before her cushion started vibrating again. "When did you start using again?" Hermione asked, her voice soft and unaccusing.
TJ rolled his lips in, biting both top and bottom like he was contemplating lying to her. He shook his head in a defeated gesture before answering in a whisper. "Six months."
She nodded, that was about the time his Skype calls had dried up. "What happened?" she asked, again her voice soft.
"Why does something have got to have happened?" he asked loud and sharp. He glared at her accusingly.
"Because you didn't touch the stuff when aliens attacked or your ex and his family showed up on your doorstep. You might have wanted to but you didn't cave. Something much more important and painful must have happened to push you into doing something you didn't want to do."
"Who says I didn't want it?" he answered, though this time his voice sounded close to tears. He lowered his head into his hands to hide his face.
Hermione took a deep breath and thought about how best to approach the situation. He was obviously upset and denying his feelings. He didn't seem to mind Harry's presence but she looked back over her shoulder at Harry. He signed I'll talk to you later and left. She appreciated his confidence in her ability to handle the broken man on her couch. She scooted back and propped herself into the corner of the couch and then poked TJ in the thigh with her toes. He looked up at her and his eyes were even puffier and red. She couldn't see tears but she knew they were either already here or imminent. "Come here, TJ," she said, opening her arms for him.
He moved into her embrace immediately. He laid curled on his side between her legs and rested his head on her chest. He blinked a few times before he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply despite his stuffy nose. Hermione was about to prompt him again when he opened his mouth and started speaking quietly. "Nana had a stroke six months ago. Was bad to begin with and it only got worse. She couldn't talk anymore, had to be put in a nursing home. I went to visit often but it was so hard seeing her like that. She had always been the one in my corner, you know, she was always sassy and vivacious and she—" he broke off in a sob that rocked his whole body. Hermione could feel her shirt already starting to dampen with his tears. He snuffled another breath and tried again, "She was... It was so hard watching her struggle with the simple things. On top of the stroke, she had to be put on medicine and she went through alcohol withdrawal. It was... Christ, it was hard enough going through withdrawals myself but to watch Nana have to do it..."
His body shook again and Hermione reached up and started carding her fingers through his hair. It was longer than he'd worn it last year, most likely just from not caring to get it cut. She pressed her lips to his forehead in a kiss and that's when the damn broke. He shook as he cried, sobs wracking his body like he'd tried to hold himself still too long and now everything was trying to come out all at once. Through it all, he tried to keep talking, "She... I couldn't... I'm such a... grandson... Why am I like this?"
"Shh, TJ. It's going to be okay, I've got you," Hermione whispered.
"It's not... it's not okay." He shook his head where it lay against her. He squeezed his eyes tight and tried to stop the tears. He held his breath; it made the sobs worse. Between every few words, his breath hitched. "It... won't ever... be okay... again. Her..." he whimpered and his breath hitched a few more times, more painful and more insistent than before. Hermione held him close, brushing one hand down his back and the other through his hair. He was starting to hyperventilate.
"Breathe, baby, breathe TJ. Come on, long, steady, deep breaths. Breathe with me, sweetie." She inhaled in example and he emulated her. She exhaled and he did as well, still double breathing at the end but it wasn't as overwhelming. She continued to breathe deeply so he'd copy her.
She had a feeling she knew what he had been trying to say. She doubted he would be this far gone in despair if his grandmother were still alive. Finally, when he had his breathing back under control, he started speaking again. "Her funeral was yesterday. I threw some things in a bag and took the red-eye here."
She nodded. "Does your family know where you are?" She felt him shake his head in answer. "Where's your mobile?" He shifted, wiggling on top of her to reach into the pocket he was laying on to pull his phone out. He offered it to her. She shook her head, "No, it needs to be your own words. Text them—mass text if you want—that you're safe in Britain with me and you'll check in later in the week." He did as she said and then dropped his phone onto the floor beside the couch.
He didn't say anything else but he pressed his face tighter against her chest. "I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologise. You—"
"I'm sorry I'm not strong enough to not use. I'm sorry I barged in. I'm sorry I'm not—I'm not..."
"Shh. You are strong, TJ. You'll get through this, we'll do it together." She squeezed him in a hug and the last of the tension he was holding seeped away. They were quiet for long enough that he fell asleep laying on her. She kissed his forehead and relaxed as best she could. He was very warm laying over her. She smiled and gave herself permission to nap; it was her day off after all.