TW: Injury, Sexual Content
November 1976
James woke slowly, feeling the sunlight hit his face and his body slowly come back to life. Once he was awake though he could feel a dull ache coming from his abdomen and the previous day's events came rushing back to him.
How he and Lily had been covering prefect duty, laughing about how nothing ever happened and then it very suddenly had. Explosions ringing through the village, stunning the pub into silence. He and Lily had quickly made eye contact and spoken a thousand words in those few brief seconds.
They had been together outside when it happened. The two of them trying desperately to keep their attackers at bay while younger students ran towards the gates of Hogwarts. At first, their assailants hadn't seemed interested in harming them, instead focused on creating fear and destroying the village. But, at some point one of the masked figures had locked onto Lily.
He'd been surprised when he heard a woman's voice among their attackers, but the thought had been quickly dismissed as she called Lily that foul word and started casting ever more dangerous spells in her direction.
James couldn't say what had possessed him, only that he knew he couldn't let Lily get hit by whatever curses were being cast at her. She had been defending herself well, proficient as ever in her work but there had just been one that slipped through her defences. He didn't remember thinking about it. He was just suddenly leaping in front of her and then blinding pain.
He couldn't remember much after that. Just pain, and fear, and looking up into the emerald of Lily's eyes and thinking maybe, just maybe, he would be alright.
Now though, he was awake and aware of his surroundings. Noticing for the first time, the feeling of his fingers tangled in something and the figure slumped over next to him. Sunlight reflected off her hair, making the auburn locks glow. He didn't know how he got into this position, asleep with his fingers entwined in her hair, but he thought he could happily wake like this for the rest of his life.
But as with everything else to do with Lily, the reality was so different to the fantasy, and he was still in a hospital bed. Gently removing his hand from her hair, he could feel her stirring and watched as she blinked awake, finally meeting his eyes.
"Potter," she breathed out quickly, "You're awake. How are you?"
He wasn't sure how to answer her question. How was he? Confused mainly, but he settled on asking what happened instead.
"What do you remember?" Her response was asked with furrowed brows, and concern splashed across her face.
"Uhh, the village was attacked, and we were trying to make sure the younger years could get away when one of them started attacking you."
Throughout his explanation, she was nodding along with his account. It wasn't until the last part that her face grew grave.
"Yeah, one of them was cursing me directly, and you jumped in front of me, you great prat." Even as she said it, she let out a small sniffle betraying the anger of her words.
"Ahhh. What happened after that?"
"Honestly, I don't really remember. They all disapparated, and you were just lying there. Hermione appeared at some point and started trying to heal you, but nothing she did was working so we basically just had to try and keep you alive for Madam Pomfrey."
"Oh. Then what? Is everyone else okay?"
She nodded again, taking a moment before replying "Yeah, everyone else is fine. Some of the little ones are a bit shaken up, and there were a few cuts and bruises, but you were the worst of it."
That reassured him on some level. James didn't deny it had hurt. He could remember the searing pain of the first cut that had only been exacerbated by Hermione's attempts to save him, but he would far rather go through that than have someone else injured worse.
"Okay. Good."
"Good! Potter, you almost died! You would have if it weren't for Hermione."
"Maybe, but better me than someone else."
As he said it, Lily was stunned into silence looking at him with the most bizarre expression. A mixture of worry and disbelief but James, for once, didn't care what she thought. He'd gladly do it again if it meant one of his friends wasn't put in harm's way.
As he was thinking about it though Madam Pomfrey appeared in the bay, "Miss Evans, I agreed to let you stay on the condition you told me the moment he awoke."
Before the Matron could get any further into her berating James cut in, "Sorry Madam Pomfrey, that's my fault, I insisted she told me what happened first."
Lily gave him a look of thanks and went to leave saying a quiet, "Goodbye then Potter. Glad you're feeling okay."
As she said it though, James suddenly remembered a moment of clarity from the haze of pain that was the previous day.
"James," he said softly, "you said you'd call me James."
She gave him a small smile and nodded, "Okay then, James. Thank you." Her voice was quiet as she said the last part, and then she quickly left the bay for good.
Alone, the Matron went to examine her patient. Opening the infirmary striped pyjamas, James saw the effects of the curse he'd taken. Across his abdomen, the scar was a dark purple that spoke to its newness. It was huge, with arms reaching across his torso and the whole thing was surrounded by deep greenish-purple bruising.
He had plenty of scars from quidditch and from wrestling with Moony, but this was something else entirely. Magic was usually able to heal scarring until it was almost invisible, and bruising could be cured in hours with the right potions. That the scar still looked this bad the next day spoke volumes about how injured he had been.
Madam Pomfrey tutted at the wound and finally addressed her patient, "You're very lucky, Mr Potter. I fear if Miss Lupin hadn't been there, we wouldn't be having this conversation. As it is, I'll have to keep you here for a couple of days, but you'll be alright."
It wasn't ideal. James knew the full moon was that night but considering he almost didn't make it through yesterday he couldn't complain. Instead, he nodded in agreement and let the Matron continue applying whichever pastes were necessary to heal him.
"Can I see Remus at least - since he's already here?"
Madam Pomfrey smiled at his question. They both knew he was aware of Remus' lycanthropy, but neither of them mentioned it.
"Yes. You may see Mr Lupin, although Mr Black will probably have to bring him to you. I don't want you up and about just yet."
Again, James couldn't argue with her. He didn't much feel like moving, but the idea of being stuck alone in bed all-day made him feel like he was going mad.
Finished with her task Madam Pomfrey left the hospital bay telling him she'd send up breakfast shortly and soon after Sirius rounded the curtain to his bed with a moon-weakened Remus. Quickly transfiguring the chair Lily had vacated, the two took a seat.
For a few seconds, they sat in silence, none of them knowing what to say, but eventually, Remus spoke up, "How are you feeling Prongs?"
"Eh - I've felt better." Neither of his friends looked amused at his reply, and part of him felt guilty. He didn't know how he would have reacted had one of them almost died yesterday. "I'm not too bad all things considered. What about you two? What happened to you?"
Glancing at each other briefly Sirius spoke first, "Hestia and I were enjoying some alone time out by the shack when we heard the explosions. Took a bit of fighting to get properly into the village and by the time we got there, everything was over. Saw Pomfrey taking you up here though."
It made sense. He hadn't seen Sirius during the attack. Not that there had been much time to notice in the confusion. Sirius having said his piece they both turned to Remus.
"I was just up here reading when Sprout ran in saying there had been an attack down in the village and Pomfrey took off. Not long after that, people started showing up here. No one looked too badly injured, but Moony still went a little crazy not knowing what was happening with you guys or Hermione. Once you were all back though I pretty much passed out. "
Through his whole explanation, Sirius nodded, "Yeah, you passed out while Mini was still healing people."
"Hermione was healing people?" James questioned. He knew she had worked on him. Lily and Madam Pomfrey had both made it clear he owed her a life debt, but he hadn't realised she had been here healing more people afterwards.
"Yeah, she stuck around here for ages helping out. She left with Shacklebolt eventually, though I think she wanted to stay. She asked me to stay with Moony."
There was something strange about Sirius' tone as he mentioned it, almost unhappy about Shacklebolt but pleased Hermione had asked him to remain in her place. James was sure there was more to it if he cared to look, but as of that moment, he had other things on his mind.
"Pomfrey's keeping me here for a few days so I won't be able to make it out for the moon tonight."
He hated the thought of abandoning Remus but knew there was no way to escape the hospital wing under the watchful eye of Madam Pomfrey. He also knew even if he could escape he wouldn't be much help, but he looked at his friends with apology in his eyes anyway.
Remus spoke first, "Prongs, of course, we're not expecting you for the moon." Remus' expression suggested he was stupid for even mentioning it, but Sirius had no reservations in telling him.
"You idiot. Pete and I will just stay in the shack with him."
The mention of his fourth friend raised questions James hadn't considered until then.
"Where is Wormtail anyway?"
Sirius and Remus glanced at each other and shrugged.
"He never showed up here yesterday - I assumed he just got caught up in the madness," Remus explained before Sirius continued.
"Well, Shacklebolt told Mini everyone was accounted for, so I reckon he's sleeping in the dorm, lucky git."
They all chucked at Sirius' reasoning, and with his friend's absence explained James' mind finally turned back to the question that had been plaguing him since he woke, "Was it them?"
All three boys fell silent at the question. Technically no one knew who had been responsible for the attack, but privately they were all too aware.
They had been a silent force over the past few years. Responsible for suspicious deaths and seemingly random disappearances but last Christmas they had all received a startling awakening about quite how dangerous their hidden enemy was.
Sirius, who had avoided his home as much as possible since his sorting had been summoned back. It was a strange occurrence, Walburga and Orion Black were usually content to ignore the existence of their oldest son, but they had explicitly called him home that year.
It had made them all anxious. Not knowing why the Blacks were suddenly taking an interest in their heir. But, the reality of what happened had been so much worse than anything they imagined.
James didn't know any details of Sirius' time trapped in Grimmauld Place, but he heard his parents discussing what treatments to give him after his friend had appeared through the floo. How Sirius had been tortured, had the cruciatus cast upon him so many times they worried he would have nerve damage.
Thankfully, they had avoided doing any lasting damage, but James could still see his friend's body bloodied and broken in their entrance. Some morbid part of him wondered who had more scars now they had both faced off against them.
Sirius hadn't said much about what happened and James didn't push him. For all Sirius was as extroverted as himself, some things were private, and that was one of them.
He told them the basics, though. How he had been expected to fall into the Pureblood party line. To denounce his friends in Gryffindor and take the mark of the wizard his parents claimed was going to cleanse wizarding society.
He also told them how he had defied them and how his refusal had earned him his punishment. They didn't discuss any more than that. Details too personal to share even among friends, but it had taught them all who had been working in the shadows.
It was Sirius who answered his question, "Nothing officially, of course, but we all know it was."
Remus nodded along, "The Prophet is saying they were unknown masked assailants, but anyone who has been paying attention knows it's them. Even if they don't know specifics, they know who was responsible."
"Why now, though?" James questioned.
"They're feeling confident, nobody's stopped them over the past few years, and they had to step up at some point."
Sirius' answer made sense, they could only spend so long operating out of sight, but it worried him too.
"This isn't the end is it."
"No, Prongs. Not by a long shot."
Hermione was warm when she woke, cocooned in blankets that smelled like sandalwood and cloves in a scent she had come to associate with Kingsley.
As sleep left her though she remembered how she ended up in that position. How Kingsley had held her as she cried herself to sleep. Thinking of the wizard did create questions though, because as warm as she was, Hermione was alone in bed.
Forcing her eyes open, she took stock of the room around her. Everything was as it had been the night before, save for the rumpled bedsheets to her left and the missing wizard.
As she thought it though he appeared at the doorway, two mugs in his hands and a newspaper under one arm. Hermione felt relief wash over her at the domestic scene, reassured she was no longer alone. Climbing back into the bed next to her, he handed her one of the mugs and the Prophet without a word.
For a moment she smiled at the fact he remembered how she took her tea but then glanced down at the paper.
STUDENTS ATTACKED IN HOGSMEADE
MASKED ASSAILANTS TO BLAME
Looking back up at him, Hermione finally broke the silence, "What are people saying?"
"Not much. Next trip's been cancelled, but no one really knows what happened, so it's all just speculation."
Nodding, at his reply Hermione turned her attention back to him and suddenly felt awkward about the previous night's events. They had been on dates and spent plenty of time together in dark corridors, but they weren't really at the point in their relationship that crying in each other's arms was acceptable.
As awkward as she felt about it now, she couldn't deny the comfort it had brought her last night. How the feeling of his arms wrapped tight around her made her feel safe in a way she didn't think she had since waking on the Solstice.
She meant to thank him for letting her stay, but instead, a different question came out, "Why did you ask me to Hogsmeade?"
It wasn't what she meant to ask him at all, but it was a question that had been bothering her since he had first asked, so she was invested in his reply.
Chuckling at her question, Kingsley drew her into his arms, taking care not to jostle her tea, and propped her up against his chest. It made the conversation feel so much more intimate being that close. It was hard to look into each other's eyes, but still, he looked down at her and Hermione was captivated by their dark, swirling depths.
"You're something of a legend in Gryffindor, did you know?"
She didn't and raised an eyebrow in question.
"Hmm, you are. Something about your relationship with your brother and his friends makes you quite the topic of conversation in the tower. I knew who you were from that and found myself intrigued."
"Really?"
"Yes - so I told myself I'd find out more about you. And as I did, I only had more questions. Who was this little Ravenclaw who had no fear in meeting the lions in their own territory, or who read Mastery level works in her free time? The more I discovered, the more I needed to know, and so I figured why not? I'll be gone next year, so why not take the chance."
Hermione didn't know what response she had been expecting, but she couldn't deny he intrigued her too. That she had enjoyed their debates in the library and learning more about this version of him; so similar and yet different to his older self. That she had relished the feeling of his increasingly heated gaze throughout the month before he asked her to Hogsmeade, so she smiled at his answer, prompting his own question.
"Why'd you say yes?"
"I guess I wanted to know more too."
He smirked at her answer and drew her into a kiss. Taking her mug from her without breaking it, he placed it on the side table and pulled her even closer. It was so much more intimate than anything they had done before.
It was sweeter than their previous explorations, but something about being curled up in his bed, wearing his jersey and wrapped in his arms gave the whole thing an air of intimacy she hadn't experienced yet.
She liked it, though. The feel of his lips on hers, gentle instead of demanding, that softness she'd felt the first time he kissed her before things had turned heated. He kept his lips light this time, deepening the kiss but without their usual frantic energy.
One of his hands left her waist slowly like he was afraid to spook her, but she found she only looked forward to discovering where it went. She felt it moments later on her knee, stroking gently up her outer thigh. Like everything else about this, it was intimate in a way they hadn't experienced before. For all he had rubbed circles on her knees in the library, his hands had never strayed higher up her legs than that. Explorations kept strictly to their upper halves.
But here, in the quiet of his room, without the usual desperate need their kisses held, he cautiously soothed up her leg in a way that made her thighs clench and made her keen against him.
She was hot, and the same spinning sensation that usually overtook her was present, but it was muted somehow too. Like the sleepy pace, he kissed her was keeping her right on that edge. Instead, she felt tingly all over and could only focus on his lips gentle against hers and his hand as it cupped her arse, exposed by the jersey of his she was still wearing.
She didn't know which one of them deepened the kiss even further but keeping the same sedate pace he pushed her back against the pillows, and she revelled in the weight of him against her.
Hands moved. Hers slipping up the back of his shirt, feeling the cool skin and toned muscles that only made the tension in her abdomen tighten. He pulled away only briefly to remove his shirt, but it still felt like too long for their lips to be parted, and as his returned to hers she was free to run her hands over him.
While she explored, he did too, venturing from the safety of her outer thighs to their sensitive inners, making her cry against him—the feeling of his fingers touching the soft skin, making shivers run through her body.
She didn't know when they had got so close, but she could feel the length of him, hot and hard, against her hip as his fingers continued their teasing touches, never quite moving high enough.
Almost unthinkingly, she moaned, "Please."
She could feel him groan against her, and finally, finally, he reached higher. Fingers brushing her outer lips teasingly. The first stroke had her shuddering against him, mewling into his mouth, wanting to beg for more but unable to find the words.
He knew what she wanted, but he kept his touches delicate. Fingers stroking her gently, making her gasp against him, hips rolling as she tried desperately to find friction.
Still, she needed more. Finally, finding the words, she begged again, "Kingsley, please."
Chuckling against her lips, he gently explored her entrance, and she bucked against him at the sensation. He too groaned at the feeling of her writhing against him, panting heavily against her neck.
He kept up his light strokes, fingers curling within her, and Hermione felt herself nearing a precipice.
"More, please," she whined, unable to stop herself, needing him to touch her more. To touch the one spot, he'd so far avoided.
Finally, he touched her, where she needed him most, and she cried gently against his lips. The strokes of his thumb against her clit left her desperately searching for purchase, hands gripping the bedsheets as her breath left her in shuddery gasps. His fingers continued their motions within and the combined sensations made her tremble with need.
A few more deliberate touches and Hermione felt the world go white as waves rolled through her.