Chapter Fifty-One
December 26th, 1983
Hermione fell asleep in James's arms feeling more at bliss than she had ever felt in her entire life. Kissing him, being with him, was like coming home. That's what she had told him. That's how she felt. Unfortunately, her dreams were a swift reminder of what home actually was for her. At least, her original home.
Flashes of people from her past appeared in her mind, each one with a comment or two about the man currently resting beside her, his body pressed to her back.
"My dad? Hermione . . . I know you've been stressed out here but . . . my dad?!" Harry asked, horrified as he tried desperately to not look at the bed. Ron, likewise, looked pale as he grimaced, trying not to stare.
Ginny, however, was grinning from ear to ear. "You had sex with James Potter?! Tell me everything! Was he amazing? I bet he was amazing. Like father like son after all," she said and waggled her eyebrows, and Hermione tried to hide beneath the blanket.
"Stop!" both Harry and Ron yelled at the same time.
One by one, everyone she'd known in her past life appeared in her dream to offer commentary. The most colourful, of course, came from a much older Molly Weasley who tutted loudly in disapproval and asked when she planned on marrying the man. Fred and George were beside themselves with joy, asking if her new "in" with a Marauder would grant them access to insider pranks.
Her parents looked at her, confused, and Hermione waited for them to berate her, lecture her on everything she'd done wrong and whether or not she had used protection, but they said nothing. It was then that Hermione realised they didn't know who she was.
She woke up with tears in her eyes and an old panicked feeling in her chest. She reached for her wand which James had apparently placed on the bedside table while she was sleeping. With a few waves of the vinewood, Hermione locked the door, letting the old familiar feeling of magical security wash over her like a comforting blanket. When it wasn't enough to completely take the edge off, she turned and snuggled as close to James as humanly possible without waking him. After subtly wiping her eyes, she let her gaze move over his sleeping form and smiled softly at the hair that hung in his face, a curl at the ends because he'd let it grow so long. The stubble on his cheeks and chin was rough, but the sparse hair on his chest soft and smooth. There was a small scar over his collarbone that looked like it had come from a Slicing Hex, likely from his Hogwarts days or during his time with the Order. She nuzzled her nose against the mark and kissed his skin, breathing in the comforting scent of him before falling back asleep.
When James opened his eyes, he reached out and felt the still warm sheets next to him. They were, however, empty. He sat up and reached for his glasses, blinking a few times at the sight of the half-naked witch shuffling to get what little clothes she had in this room back on her person as she stepped closer to the door.
"Doesn't the walk of shame need an audience?" Hermione shrieked at his voice slicing through the silence, jumping half a foot in the air and grasping at her chest. James let out a loud laugh, and his smile only widened when she scowled at him. "Sneaking out? Really?"
She bit her bottom lip. "I didn't know if . . . It's still complicated, and we didn't plan this."
"We were sober," he pointed out. Hermione stared at him incredulously, so he corrected, "We were sober by the end of it."
When she continued to worry her lip between her teeth, James sighed and stepped out of bed. Her eyes widened at the sight of his nudity in daylight, and she blushed and turned her gaze upward. He chuckled at her awkwardness but ignored it all the same as he approached her, taking her face in his hands, and kissing her thoroughly.
She let out a soft sigh, the tips of her fingers dancing across the lines of his abdomen. "You are making this really, very—"
"Hard?" he offered with a suggestive grin. "If you think I'm bad, you ought to see what you're doing." Without warning, James had her pressed against the wall, tugging and pulling at the clothing that she'd been able to reacquire in her attempted escape.
Her body reacted on its own, very much disconnected from her brain. Fingers dug their way through his hair and her legs wrapped around his waist. She kissed him hard, searching, as though she could only find oxygen from inside of him and she was desperate for a long, deep breath of air. It was lack of air, however, that had her breaking away from him, gasping.
"So . . ." She panted. "Not just a one-time thing?"
James shook his head. "I don't . . . I haven't done this with just anyone, Hermione."
"What are we?"
"I . . . I've got a three-year-old kid . . . boyfriend seems a little . . ."
"Yeah."
"But . . . it's what I want to be."
She swallowed hard and nodded her head quickly. "Okay," she muttered and then kissed him again as quickly as possible to end the conversation before her brain had a chance to come up with a list of reasons why it was all a very, very bad idea.
It was loud and messy and they were both laughing with ecstasy and happiness by the end of it.
Her legs wobbled when he put her back on the ground and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Breakfast?" he asked with a smile. "We could grab some muffins from that place you like and then go and pick up Harry from the Burrow?"
She nodded, unable to wipe the joyful grin from her face as she flicked her wand at the door to dismantle her early morning Locking Charm. The fact that it wouldn't come down, however, was a sure way to kill her happy grin. "What the . . . James?"
He furrowed a brow and tried the door. "I didn't lock it, I swear."
"I know, I did, but it won't . . . This isn't just my magic."
He went in search of his wand, coming back to see that Hermione was already trying to open it herself using a variety of spells he'd never even heard of. When none of them worked, he growled. "Sirius."
Hermione's eyes went wide. "Sirius Black!"
"Moooorning," came a voice from the other side of the door.
She gasped loudly and covered her mouth.
"Yep," said Sirius. "Heard ev-er-y-thing. Well done, mate!"
"Sirius open the bloody door!" James snapped angrily.
"To be fair, the malfunctioning Locking Charm was a bit of an . . . accident . . . ish. We meant no harm."
"We?" Hermione squeaked.
James pressed his forehead against the door and sighed. "Moony."
"Prongs," came a second voice. "Don't be mad. Please. We were all worried about Hermione after everything that happened yesterday. We went to check on her, but she wasn't at her flat, so we came here. When you weren't downstairs or in Harry's room . . . Well, Sirius was first up the stairs, and I didn't want him to just burst in so . . ."
Hermione sighed and pressed her forehead against the door. "You put up a Locking Charm on the outside," she said. "I was half awake when I put mine up, and if Remus threw his from a distance, they're likely tangled. It'll be like trying to untangle knitting yarn with a knot in the centre."
"You knit?" James asked with an amused smirk.
Hermione looked up at him remembering long nights at Hogwarts spent putting together poorly made and—admittedly—hideous house-elf hats, socks, and scarves. "I umm . . . not really."
James smiled at her. "You're sexy when you blush, y'know."
Remus cleared his throat. "We can still hear you. Oh, and for the record, I went downstairs during the umm . . . you know . . . the—"
"The crazy loud shagging!" Sirius yelled.
"I'm sending a message to Allie. Maybe she can arrest Sirius, and we can dismantle the Locking Charms in peace," Hermione whispered conspiratorially to James and ran to look for her coin, only to find it missing. "Oh no, it's downstairs in my jeans. Why did you undress me on the staircase?" she hissed at him, slapping his arm.
"Looking for this?" Sirius asked, sliding the coin under the door. "It won't do you much good. The only person you could call at this point would be Molly, and you'd probably have to listen to an hour-long lecture on premarital sex."
"I'm calling Allie," Hermione said, snatching up the coin.
"Hi, Hermione!"
James looked up, finally as horrified as Hermione had appeared. "Allie?"
The witch chuckled on the other side of the door. "Yep. Emmie and Mary as well. We were worried is all. Wanted to make sure Hermione . . . got home safe," she said with a small laugh. "Obviously, that never happened, but good for you! The pair of you have been dancing around each other for months."
"Oh, longer than that, I'd say," Mary chimed in.
Emmeline scoffed. "From the way they were screaming, I'd say at least a year."
"Thank Merlin the sexual tension is finally gone," Sirius said. "It is gone, right?"
"Obviously!" James yelled.
"Are you a couple now?" Mary asked happily.
"Yes," Hermione replied with a mortified groan.
"Did you tell her that you luuuuuuurve her?" Sirius asked.
James could actually visualise his friend grinning darkly against the door. "Stand back," he told Hermione and stretched his neck. "This is taking too long."
Five minutes later, the absurdity of the situation had washed away Hermione's embarrassment. When Prongs finally did break down the door, he had wooden bits of it stuck in his antlers that an embarrassed Remus was trying to help him out of, while Sirius grinned at a safe distance at the end of the hall. Allie and Mary stepped into the bedroom to find Hermione laughing hysterically, wrapped in a white sheet from the bed, her mass of curls untamed and spread out over her bare shoulders.
"You lot are terrible people," Hermione said as Mary handed over her clothes. "But with good intentions."
"Happy?" Allie asked with a smirk.
Hermione looked up at the stag in the doorway, head bowed forward with Remus tugging at the chunk of door, putting his foot on the wall for leverage as he pulled, shouting, "Just shift back and it'll fall off!"
Sirius laughed from behind them. "He can't shift mate, he's starkers under all that fur!"
Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes, turning her gaze back up to Allie. "So happy."
