March 1980
Marauder House
A violent breath shoved past Hermione's lips, her eyes rounding as she stared at her boyfriend. As realisation settled over her, she shook her head and retreated a few steps. "No."
"Oh, come on. Just for a bit." James' lips twitched into a charming, crooked smile as he reached his palm out for her. "For me?"
"Not happening." Narrowing her glare, Hermione couldn't help the anxiety roiling in her gut at the sight of James' arm wrapped around his new broom, his fingers curling around the handle with a proud grin. "It's dangerous," she tacked on, her resolve wavering in the face of his unyielding glee.
"You'll be with me." His fingers found her waist and tugged her forward. "I would never let anything happen to you." There was a sincerity in his voice that she hadn't expected and her lips twisted as time stretched on; she eventually gave him a begrudging nod.
"Fine," she sighed, "but I swear if you go fast or do a spin or anything untoward at all I will hex you."
A broad smile split over his lips, and he leaned down to kiss her quickly before floating the broom in the air and tucking it between his legs. Hermione's knees shook as she straddled it, sinking back against his chest.
Lips brushing against the shell of her ear, he whispered, "Hold on tight," and with a hard kick, they were soaring, hurtling for the impending sunset as Hermione shrank inward and clenched her eyes shut. In an attempt to focus her energy anywhere else, her mind lingered on the feeling of his chest against her back and his thighs bracketing hers. She concentrated on the soft rhythm of his breathing and heartbeat working in tandem.
Finally, the broom slowed and the hard whooshing of the air on takeoff lulled to a soft breeze wrapping around them. She managed to peek one eye open and the sight greeting her made her gasp. Merlin, it was beautiful. The sky was painted in gentle hues of orange and pink, hanging over sloping hills that broke free from the forest.
"Oh," she breathed. The anxiety in her belly had transformed into something quiet and purring, and she relaxed into him, ignoring the dozens of metres below them. James rested his chin on her shoulder.
"You're not a bad flier, you know," Hermione said with a smirk. "I would say this is top three broomrides I've ever been on."
With an indignant snort, he pulled to the side to glare at her. "You said you don't fly. I thought I was a special exception."
"You are." Her lips twitched into a smirk as she playfully avoided his gaze. "An exception I've allowed three times."
"You're saying I'm top three out of three? That's hardly an accomplishment."
Giggling to herself, she allowed one hand to stray from the handle and curl behind James' neck, pulling him in for a deep, lingering kiss. She felt his lungs expand behind her as his free hand wrapped tightly around her waist and tugged her impossibly closer. Kissing him was the most exhilarating thing she'd ever done, a truthful sentiment even sitting upon a precarious broom with a distracted flyer. Their tongues brushed together, stealing the air from her chest as his hand drifted higher to grope at her breast.
Absently, she rolled her hips, relishing in the pressure of the seat and the growing erection pressing into her bum and when she pulled back panting, she shook her head sharply. "This is not only dangerous but annoying."
Barking a laugh, the edges of his eyes crinkled in amusement. "Annoying?
"Well, I'd much rather continue snogging you, but you've got me trapped on this death stick."
With a quiet chuckle and another soft kiss to her temple, he guided the broom forward, turning them in long lazy circles above the treeline as the sun tucked below the horizon. "Alright, let's get back so you can have your wicked way with me." James' nuzzled his stubbled chin in the crook of her neck, and she yelped and swatted at him as he returned them towards the house.
He took a slower time returning, and Hermione allowed her eyes to remain open, finding that she now trusted the man behind her more than anyone else on the planet.
"I love you," he confessed as the house came into view.
Lips twitching, she turned just barely over her shoulder to peek at him. "I love you, too."
"Good. I want you to remember that."
Her brows furrowed, and she noted that his fingers had again curled possessively around her waist, this time holding her tight. "James…"
A wicked smile bent his lips as he wagged his brows and dipped the nose of the broom dangerously towards the earth. She shrieked wildly, a shrill cry piercing the night as they corkscrewed over the trees and careened towards the grass in a seeming free-fall. Just when Hermione was sure they were going to collide with the earth and greet their untimely death, James shifted and pulled hard up on the broom. The tips of her toes just barely brushed the grass, and she sat frozen on the broom, her knuckles white from clutching the handle.
James unmounted first, smiling proudly at her as he helped her from the seat. "I've a half a mind to kill you," she growled. "That is exactly what I told you not to do!"
Pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose, he shrugged and snatched the floating broom from the air at the same time he reached for her hand. "Rebel without a cause, love. Besides, you already confessed to loving me so you'll just have to forgive me."
Adrenaline still pumping through her system and her hair now the size of a small tree, Hermione permitted herself to be dragged through the front door only to slam into the back of one James Potter soon thereafter.
"Kitten! Prongs!" Hermione blinked several times and turned to find the most devious Marauder relaxing with his mud-caked boots kicked up on the coffee table and a plate of frosted cake in his hands.
"Sirius." James eyed his friend carefully and then continued with Hermione still in tow.
From over her shoulder, that blasted wizard called out again, mischief evident in his tone. "Where art thou off in such a rush? Celebrating?"
Hermione dug her heels in, skidding and sliding as James attempted to pull her along. "What's he talking about? Sirius, why are you being so weird?"
The man had the good sense to at least appear distressed before slicing off a bit of white cake and savoring it with an exaggerated moan. "I love birthday cake." He grinned and used the pad of his thumb to swipe at an errant piece of frosting on the corner of his mouth. "Would you like some?"
"It's not your birthday," Hermione said lamely, furrowing her brow.
"No—no it is not." Sirius' teeth gleamed in the dim light and he seemed so utterly pleased with himself despite making absolutely zero sense at all.
"Padfoot…" Behind her, James groaned and loosened the hold on her hand only to bury in his face in his palms. "Why are you like this?"
Hermione blinked, her gaze snapping back and forth between the two men quickly. "What are you on about? I swear, I never understand half of your inane banter."
Down the hall, the door creaked open and Peter's shaggy blond head emerged. "Oi! There you are; haven't seen you all day!" An unsettling feeling swirled in Hermione's stomach as their third housemate made his way towards them. She snapped her head back to Sirius who was sporting a face splitting grin.
"James?" she asked, unable to tear her gaze from Sirius.
"Happy Birthday, you wanker!" Peter barreled into James, happy as she could remember seeing him. James seemed to sag, loosening a groan as his friend slapped him on the back. "Hey! Sirius, did you cut the cake? Molly sent it for James!"
When James was free from the clutches of his friend, he turned with an abashed twist to his mouth and pink cheeks. Hermoine could do little more than gape, her heart slamming into her sternum as she stared at him. "James Potter, tell me right now it's not your birthday."
"Ohhhh, that's right…" Sirius crowed from behind them. "I know you told me to tell Peter something but it totally slipped my mind. What was it again?"
Lip curling, James craned his neck to peer around Hermione. "It was not to make a fucking fuss about my birthday because I don't want to celebrate, you knob. Not everyone needs a legion of drunks to commemorate a year passing, you insufferable tw—"
His words were interrupted by Hermione batting wildly at his chest. "You didn't tell me it was your birthday! How… Why... " Her lips continued to make various shapes in an attempt to formulate a proper thought but only inarticulate growls bubbled forth.
Peter reappeared with a slice of cake, his eyes round and innocent. "What? What's wrong? Should we go for a pint?"
At that, Sirius erupted into full-body rocking guffaws, and James flipped him the middle finger for good measure before bending down and catching Hermione around the middle, tossing her gently over his shoulder. She kicked and yelped, swatting as his rear end as he stomped down the hall towards his bedroom.
Once inside, he set her down, and Hermione huffed and batted at her curls. "Are you intentionally trying to infuriate me tonight?"
A surprising smile twitched at the corner of his lips as he crossed his bedroom and fell on his back with his hands tucked behind his head. "I am not. It's only a lovely perk of having such twatish friends."
Some of her frustration waned, and her shoulders sagged. "Why wouldn't you tell me it was your birthday? We could have…" Words failed her, her features pinching awkwardly to one side. "Done something special."
She'd never had a boyfriend for these kinds of special occasions, and she would have liked the opportunity to make it memorable. Maybe a gift or dinner or… something. The exhilaration of the evening had turned sour, and she felt like an overblown balloon with a pin prick in the side, slowly deflating into sadness.
"We did do something special, Hermione." James rolled and perched on his elbow. "We had dinner—"
With a snort, she deadpanned, "We had fish and chips at the Leaky—and you paid."
He continued on, ignoring the interruption entirely. "We went flying at sunset and you let me feel you up." A bit of her hard shell cracked and a smile broke free. "And if I'm lucky I'm about to have some wonderful birthday sex and a slice of cake and fall asleep with you in my arms. That sounds like an exceptionally good birthday if you ask me. Best one I've had in years."
Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, she shook her head in defeat and reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it swiftly over her head. Curls tumbled back over her shoulders, and she basked in the doting gaze of her boyfriend as his eyes nearly rolled from his head.
"See," he said around a thick swallow, "smashing birthday."
With deft fingers, she pushed her jeans to the floor and stepped from her flats. James' tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip as he scurried up to a seated position.
She straddled his lap, hands curling over his thick shoulders as she said, "You're acting as though we didn't have sex this morning."
His hands roamed up her thighs and found purchase on her waist as he sat tall and pulled her flush against him. "Well," he paused, grin hovering over her mouth, "that was just morning sex. This is birthday sex."
"Well, I've never had birthday sex, so I'm not sure of the protocol." She bypassed his lips and pressed a kiss to his jaw, then another and another, trailing up towards his earlobe which she caught between her teeth. "I'll have to make it up as I go along, unless there's something you'd like to teach me."
He hissed, his arms banding tightly around her, and the warmth of him sent a ripple of gooseflesh chasing over her skin. "How are you so perfect?" His palms filled with the weight of her breasts, kneading and dragging his thumbs over her nipples as she bucked against his burgeoning erection.
They broke apart solely so she could rip the shirt from his body before they crashed back together again. With a snap of his fingers, her bra fell loose around her shoulders and he tugged it off. His hand slipped in the waistband of her knickers, and he dug his fingers into the thick flesh of her bum while his lips closed around her pebbled nipple.
Every touch set her skin on fire, tiny jolts of pleasure sinking into her nervous system as her head fell back and she lost herself in the sweet push and pull that was James Potter. Where he pinched, he soothed; where he bruised, he kissed.
Threading her fingers in his wavy hair, she curled around him as he moved his ministrations to the other breast, the hand on her bum sliding up to the abandoned one and groping it roughly.
Hermione forced her eyes open and focused her magic. "Evanesco." Immediately, she felt the spell work as his jeans and pants vanished from between them. His teeth grazed her nipple as he grinned before pulling back to catch her gaze.
"Cheeky." As he spoke, he bucked into her and she could have come right then and there. "Work that magic on your own knickers before I rip them to shreds."
Her sex fluttered, and she clenched her eyelids shut, repeating the enchantment again. Gasping, she felt his hard ridge between her folds and dug her nails into his chest.
Lifting her as though she weighed nothing at all, he found her entrance and nudged it with the tip of his cock. She was the one to sink down, taking her time as he filled and stretched her. Mouth falling open, she let out a quiet whimper when his thumb brushed her clit. As she seated herself fully, she rolled her hips, allowing herself to adjust as his hands roved her sides and chest before settling on her hips.
James began rocking her, moving her on his lap. Quiet, pleasured noises came from her lips, and she pressed her palms into his chest, steadying herself.
"Fuck, Hermione." The simple praise rolled against her like a low tide, and she lost herself to the sensation of him. Lifting up, she quickly sank back down, repeating the movement until she had found a rough rhythm that had James squirming and sinking his fingers into her skin.
As she fucked him, words of affirmation and praise slipped from his lips and urged her faster and faster. He buried his face in her chest and left wet, open-mouth kisses wherever he could.
She could feel the first flutterings of orgasm, and she impaled herself on his cock and began rocking until she felt her thighs quivering from exhaustion. "James… I can't—"
Frustration shook in her vocal cords and he responded immediately, pushing her knees wider and then thrusting up into her. A broken cry slipped free as his hands gripped her waist and began moving her over his lap. Managing to wrench her eyes open to look at the man beneath her, she found his pupils blown and jaw clenched, staring at her as though she were the very crux of his universe.
The tension in her sex snapped and pleasure chased down every nerve ending in her body, flooding her system with euphoria. Her jaw went slack and her nails dug into his chest as the final remnants of her orgasm waned.
With a feral growl, James lifted her, positioning her on her hands and knees, and before she could make sense of it, he was behind her, prodding at her entrance. "Is this okay?" he asked, and no sooner had she choked out her consent than he was burying himself inside her.
One hand curled around her hip, the other resting between her shoulder blades as he moved in slow, almost torturous, movements. Hermione shook, her entire body trembling from the sensation of the position.
She arched her back gently, kicking her knee a little wider, and he sank deeper. They shared a tandem moan as his hip bones pressed into her bum. "Can you handle more?" James bit out, his fingers bruising her hip bone in restraint.
Nodding, she curled her fingers in the quilt and focused on nothing more than the feeling of James pumping inside her, their skin slapping with each thrust. After a few moments, when she felt nearly at the brink of another orgasm but unable to get the proper friction, James guided them backward until he was resting on his haunches, his cock still buried inside her.
Back pressed against his chest, she wrapped her arm around his neck and craned to kiss him, their tongues brushing between their parted lips. He fucked her slower again, his hand quickly finding her clit. As he slid his finger over her sensitive bud again and again, she rutted on his lap, that swell rising once more in her belly.
Her second orgasm flooded her system, washing over her while her fingers pulled at his hair and her jaw fell open around his lips. Choking out sharp breaths, she went nearly boneless as the orgasm waned, and James quickly pushed her forward on her belly and then found her entrance again, fucking her hard as he laid himself over her, his breath hot in her ear. After only a few sharp thrusts, he stilled, his hand seeking out hers and threading their fingers together as he spilled inside her.
The moment quieted, nothing but the sounds of the breaths syncing paired with James' fingertips trailing down her spine. A sleepy, sated smile curled her lips, and she wiggled her body closer to his, syphoning his warmth while he peppered quick kisses along her shoulders.
"See? Bloody brilliant birthday."
Hermione smiled, rolling to look up at him. "Let's have birthday cake… then we'll do it all over again."
xXx
Covered in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxers, Hermione sat with her legs draped over James' lap, a plate of cake resting precariously on her knees. They took turns cutting off corners and fighting with fork spears over the frosting.
As their shared laughter lilted through the air, two doors opened and the remaining Marauders emerged from their rooms. Sirius paused at the foot of the stairs to glare at them, muttering something about silencing charms and common decency before falling into his favorite lumpy chair.
"How was your birthday, Prongs?" Peter asked, following suit and claiming the chair at the far side of the coffee table.
James' tongue darted out to wet his lip before catching it between his teeth. His gaze flickered to Hermione, and she blushed under his attention, nudging him with her elbow as she cuddled deeper into his side. "Brilliant, thanks. Best one yet."
A loud groan rumbled from the disheveled housemate with the clunky boots and half-hearted sneer. "That's really lovely, mate. We only spent every birthday with you for almost a decade, you prick."
In an absolutely adorable show of immaturity, James stuck his tongue out before devouring an extra large bite of cake.
Peter chuckled and turned his attention to Hermione. "How goes things with the Horcruxes? Any word on the cup?"
The air in the room stilled and shifted instantly, Hermione's pulse quickening as reality washed over her. "No," she said, shaking her head. "And Dumbledore is absolutely no help whatsoever. How Harry was able to work with him at all is beyond me." Next to her James squirmed, and she folded her lips in a vain attempt to suck the words back in and hold them there.
"He certainly enjoys this mysterious air about him, doesn't he?" Sirius snorted.
Frustration boiled in her belly, and she took her legs from James' lap to tuck them under her. "For instance, I told that man that he had a bloody beast living in the bowels of his castle, a monster that has killed children and will do awful damage in the future, and you know what he said?" There was a beat of silence, but Hermione didn't wait for an answer. "He said to let him think on it. That maybe he could think of a new way to destroy the Horcruxes. That Basilisk is down there, right now, with hundreds of Horcrux murdering fangs and he wants to think on it."
With a hard puff of air she sent a few wayward curls flying and then sank back, scowling.
The boys shared a look she didn't pretend to understand, and Peter smiled crookedly. "Why don't we just go on and get it ourselves then? If you need it and it's there—I'm not sure I see the problem."
Hermione's features flattened as she rolled her narrowed glare to Peter Pettigrew. "The problem is that the monster is locked in a secret chamber under the Prefects bathroom in the most heavily warded and protected castle in England—quite possibly the world. That seems like a pretty big problem. Not to mention that if that monster so much as looks at us, we're dead." A shiver inched over her skin. "Trust me."
"Well, the last bit does seem a bit of a problem," James conceded. "But surely, we can figure it out. We've got enough of us and if you need them, then it's going to have to happen at some point or another."
Arching a brow, she turned to her boyfriend with an incredulous look. "So let's say we somehow figure out how to kill this massive Basilisk with a murderous stare and a penchant for eating children—how on earth do you expect us to get into Hogwarts? I don't think Dumbledore is keen to let us walk the halls."
A spark burned in the back of James' gaze, and she could see the mischief curling his lips into a wicked smile. He looked to Sirius who was sharing a matching expression, and Hermione's stomach flopped.
"What do you know about the Shrieking Shack?" Sirius purred, and Hermione couldn't help but choke out a laugh, her gaze darting from Peter to Sirius a few dozen times before she shook her head.
"More than I care to, I'm afraid. You're fucking mad, I tell you… but I think it might be the only chance we've got."
xXx
A/N: Hope you enjoyed the newest installment! Thanks so much for reading and following along with this WIP! Now that Ch 40 is drafted, I can officially say this is my longest story EVER! I never thought I'd write something longer than Unchained so this is quite the moment for me! As always, thanks to my Alphabet, NuclearNik, Ravenslight, and Farmulousa.
I'm trash at responding to reviews unless there is something specific you want to ask, but I promise I read and adore each and every one! If you want to chat, come hang on Tumblr or Dumbledore's Armada Discord! Much love and thanks! Stay safe!
Xo -LK