prompt: "I've been falling in love with you since the first day we met."
word count:5,873
rating: pg-13
tags: marauders era; same age; time travel; (attempted?) fix-it

dedicated to: The Seven Social Sins for being a long-time silent reader and joining me in many a fandom, even when it wasn't your usual. thanks for sticking with me for so long and through so many different obsessions. :)

minute two

28 December 1979

This should be impossible. It had to be. Or maybe she was getting her hopes up and making assumptions?

Hermione paced from one end of the small bathroom to the other.

The dates matched up, but no. No, it couldn't be that.

There was still too much to do. She still had so much she needed to fix. There was still one more Horcrux out there and as long as it existed, Voldemort could not be defeated. Never mind that she had no idea who would do the defeating. Dumbledore? Or…

Her hands fell to her stomach.

No.

Absolutely not.

It wouldn't really be Harry. It couldn't be, not truly.

Unless time was adjusting itself. Like it had when Hermione Jean Granger hadn't been born in September. But what did that mean for her? For James? Was all of this for nothing in the end? Would it still result in an orphaned child? And who would raise him then? She had no family in this time. James' parents, though spared from Dragon Pox, were still quite a bit older. Of course they would take him, but she had no idea how many years they had left. Would Sirius still be sent to Azkaban somehow? Would Remus roam the world, lost and alone?

A hopeful voice, one that sounded entirely too much like James, said this was a blessing. Her biggest fear resolved. Harry existed. Maybe not in the same fashion as before. But this was him, wasn't it? She couldn't truly know for sure. A coincidence, maybe. But what were the odds of that? What were the odds she would be pregnant around the same time Lily Potter would have been? And after only sleeping with James once. Or, more accurately, spending only one night with him. They'd made up for lost time, even knowing it couldn't progress beyond that.

Only it wasn't that simple now, was it?

Was it ever simple?

"Honey, I'm home!" called a cheerful voice.

Hermione cursed under her breath. She splashed cool water on her face and then patted it dry with a hand towel. It did nothing to hide the puffiness of her eyes or the rawness of her chewed lip. But there was nothing for that now. If she cast a glamour on herself, it would just garner more questions. So, instead, she made her way out of the loo and down the hall to the kitchen.

Sirius was digging around in the fridge, collecting all the ingredients for a good sandwich. Eight months ago, when James informed Sirius and Remus that he was moving out of their flat and setting up house with Hermione, Sirius had rather dramatically deemed her a thief, stealing away his best mate. That hadn't stopped him from visiting nearly daily and treating her fridge and pantry as his own personal grocers. Or from dropping in each evening in search of supper.

"No Remus? Usually he's here to remind you how rude it is to pop by and steal my food."

"Is it still stealing if I offer to make you something too?" He glanced up at her, already grinning, only to pause as he caught sight of her face. "All right?"

"Fine." She made her way to the stove and grabbed the kettle, filling it with water. "I'll take a sandwich if you're making one."

"Only the best sandwich you'll ever eat." He rubbed his hands together as he started getting things ready.

Hermione got a pair of cups out for their tea. She watched as Sirius pulled out leftover roast, mustard, pickles, and a collection of vegetables. When it came to food, he liked to throw the whole fridge together and see what came out. To be fair, it was usually quite tasty, so she chose to trust his process.

"You and James have a row?" Sirius wondered, slicing up a cucumber.

Hermione frowned. "No. Not really."

"Not really meaning nothing out of the ordinary? Just your usual argument about making things official?"

Snorting, Hermione focused on their tea. "If I remember correctly, you called me Yoko Ono like a month after we met."

"Well, in my defense, you did break up the band."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You see James every day. You probably see him more than I do. You're hardly broken up."

"Ah, but we were a quartet of bachelors before you came along. Now we've buried a rat in a shoebox and whenever Jamesy joins us at the pub, he remains aloof toward temptation. It's no fun when a third of your group wants to run home to his non-girlfriend. Not to mention the drunken rants about soul mates and cock blocking clocks. Not entirely sure what he was trying to get at there, but the ladies steer clear."

Placing his cup of tea in his reach, Hermione took a seat at the table. "I can't control what James does with his evenings."

"In fact, you can." He gestured with the knife absently. "He's head over arse for you, put him out of his misery already. He's never going to give up, you know. That's not how he works."

Hermione pursed her lips. "You never said where Remus was. You two are usually attached at the hip."

"He's on a special assignment." He winked at her. "Details are under wraps so don't try to crack the vault that is Sirius Black."

Going still, Hermione frowned. "He's not…" A twisting sensation filled her stomach. "Dumbledore didn't send him to treat with the werewolf packs, did he?"

Sirius frowned. "No… Should he have? That's the last place Moony should be. All alone, navigating those packs. Terrible idea."

Blowing out a relieved breath, she nodded. "Is he with James then? He left for a mission yesterday."

Sirius paused, gaze falling to the cutting board. "No, different mission."

The tone of his voice was off, which Hermione knew meant that he was being deceptive. Maybe the strangest thing about Sirius was that if he wanted to lie, he was flawless at it. But when he didn't, he had the most obvious tells.

"Oh?" she asked, prompting him to go on and tell her whatever it was he wanted to.

"James paired up with Lily for a mission."

It wasn't the first time James and Lily had been paired up. Lily was a brilliant witch and was just as eager to fight as any of them. But there had been an increase over the last six weeks. Starting shortly after her and James' night together, it seemed he was being pulled away for more and more top-secret missions. Hermione didn't like it. Not because it was with Lily, even if a part of her did feel uncomfortable with that. But because he couldn't tell her what he was doing. He was still helping her with the Horcruxes, but she never liked the idea of being on the outside. She couldn't prepare for something if she didn't know what was going on.

"You know he's over her, don't you?"

Hermione looked up and saw the concerned look on Sirius' face. Her first instinct was to agree, but she tamped it down. "You said he never gives up, but there was a time when Lily was the only person he could imagine himself with… He spent most of Hogwarts trying to convince her."

"Which was half the problem, I imagine. Or so Remus likes to tell it." At her furrowed brow, he explained, "That's a lot of pressure. A lot to live up to."

"You think reality fell flat against all of his daydreaming of what they'd be like together?"

"In a way." He shrugged. "He really did love Lily. But it's hard to make a relationship work at the best of times. Throw the war on top of things and it gets even more complicated. They were all right in seventh year, but once we were out of Hogwarts, life got a lot harder. James isn't perfect. And contrary to popular belief, even Lily has flaws. They made an honest go of it, but eventually realized they were happier as friends."

Hermione wanted to tell him that somehow, in her original timeline, James and Lily had fixed whatever had interrupted them and found each other again, but there had been no mention of a break-up in he first place. When she arrived on 12 March 1979, James and Lily had already been broken up for nearly four months, or so she would find out two weeks later when she was invited to celebrate James' birthday at the flat he shared with Sirius, Remus, and Peter. She hadn't planned to go, but Dorcas had been vocal about how important it was to have an outlet after everything The Order required of them. So, she'd gone, and James had made quick work of befriending her.

It wouldn't be long after that James started getting reckless when they went out on missions, trying to shield her from everyone and everything. By the time Easter rolled around, she was concerned he was going to get himself killed before she could execute her well thought out plans. The Marauders had invited her over for Easter Sunday and Hermione, against her better judgement, had gone. She couldn't blame Dorcas for that one, or for the cheap wine she shared with James that night, curled up in front of the fireplace. That was the night she told him everything. Or nearly, anyway. She didn't tell him about Peter right away. She had to lead into that, preferably when they were both more sober.

Sometimes, she wondered what she might have done differently if she had known what her presence in the past would do. The only one who knew the whole truth was James. She'd told Dumbledore some of it, enough to get her foot in the door with The Order, but not enough that he might use that information to do his own bidding. While she trusted him to some degree, she also knew that he could be manipulative if he thought he could achieve his own desired outcome. She couldn't allow that. Then again, the outcome she had planned for was now irrevocably different.

"Anyway, James isn't the type to cheat. He's as loyal as they come."

Hermione looked up from her tea to find Sirius focused on his sandwich making again. "It's not cheating if we're not together."

He snorted. "You've been together since the beginning. You're just slow on admitting it."

Frowning, she said, "I've never been called slow in my life. I think I'm offended."

Popping a slice of cheese in his mouth, he grinned at her as he chewed. "Don't take it too personally. We all have our moments."

Scoffing under her breath, she wrapped her hands around her cup and let the warmth sink into her skin. "If he and Lily got back together, I wouldn't hold it against him. He deserves to be happy. They both do."

Sirius hummed. "And what about you then?"

Hermione shook her head. Her happiness was inconsequential. Wasn't it? Her hand slipped down to her stomach. She had more than just herself to think of now. Whether it was Harry she was carrying or some yet unknown mixture of her and James, she wasn't sure. But it was someone. She hadn't expected this. Children were always part of her life's plan, but not now. Not when she had a war just brimming on the fringes. Not when they were so close to knowing how much had been affected by her meddling. Would the prophecy be the same? Would Voldemort still target James and his coming progeny? Or would the Longbottoms have earned more attention by then? Hermione had defied Voldemort enough to qualify. His Death Eaters knew her face, her reputation.

"Here." A sandwich was placed in front of her, entirely too tall but really quite impressive. "Eat up."

"Thank you." Hermione picked up a corner and sunk her teeth into it. Flavor burst over her tongue and her eyes fluttered closed in appreciation. When she was finished chewing, she said, "Remind me again why we don't have you cook more?"

"Set a few too many fires." Sirius shrugged unapologetically and slid into a seat across the table from her. "Easily distracted."

She sipped her tea. "A likely excuse."

"He'll be back tomorrow, won't he?"

"That's the plan, but it could go longer. Why? Hoping he'll be back early enough for a New Year's party?"

Sirius grinned roguishly. "The eighties will be good to us. I can feel it!"

Hermione smiled. "I hope you're right."

…

31 December 1979

James did not return the next day. Two days past when he was supposed to return, Hermione could admit she was a little worried. Moody had brushed off her concern, grumbling that missions changed and you just had to adapt. Still, he said, if they weren't back by tomorrow, he'd send a few people to go looking for them, even if it would compromise what they were trying to do.

Somehow, despite her worrying, Sirius had convinced her that she should come over to the flat for their party. With the full moon two days away, Remus wasn't exactly in the best mood. He'd returned from his own mission no worse for wear, but now exhaustion clung to him. She at least hoped a few dampening spells had helped with the oversensitivity of his senses. And even if he did spend much of the evening tucked in an armchair with a knit blanket around his shoulders, drinking spiked hot chocolate, it was at least better than isolating.

Hermione stuck to gilly water, nibbling at plate after plate of hors d'oeuvres, while she chatted with Dorcas, Alice, and an increasingly drunk Marlene.

A few things she had learned early on when it came to Marauders parties:

All punch bowls were off limits unless you wanted to get a buzz. Hence, why Hermione stuck to bottled gilly water.

Marlene would match Sirius drink for drink and then challenge him to a sing off, Muggle music only, and Sirius was a shockingly good singer.

The only way to tell if Dorcas was drunk was when she started hitting on people twice her age. Namely Moody or McGonagall. For whatever reason, she liked how strict they were. It wasn't a train of thought Hermione wanted to follow too far.

The louder a party was, the more Sirius deemed it a success. It was lucky for the neighbors that Remus always made a point of charming the flat so the noise wouldn't disturb anyone.

And the party wasn't truly over until everyone had either gone home or passed out somewhere.

Hermione had every intention of going home as soon as the clock struck midnight. She was happy to get out for a few hours and spend it with friends. But she had a lot on her plate currently, not the least of which was her ongoing worry that something had gone wrong on James' mission. Prior to these last six weeks, it was usually her and James that were partnered for everything. She wasn't sure she could regret the fact that they weren't. Her pregnancy meant that she would need to take a back seat regarding missions for the next while.

Remus found her sitting on a chair on the balcony. There was still an hour before midnight, but Hermione needed a break from the party.

He still had the blanket around his shoulders as he sunk into a nearby chair. He'd traded in his spiked hot chocolate for a cold bottle of butterbeer and a foam mustache sat under his nose. He swiped it clean with a brush of his hand and sent a warm grin in her direction. It seemed the good mood from the party had helped take the edge off the approaching moon.

"Having fun?" she asked.

"It's been nice." He nodded. "You?"

"Can't complain."

Remus slumped down in his seat a little. "James will be fine. He always is."

"I know." She frowned. "I just wish I knew more about what was going on."

"Price we pay." He rubbed his thumb over the bottle's label. "Sirius mentioned you thought I might be sent off to treat with the werewolf packs…"

Hermione paused. "I thought Dumbledore brought that up once. He wanted to see if he could sway them away from Greyback and Voldemort."

"And you thought he'd send me?"

"He trusts you and… I could understand if the werewolves learned to as well."

Remus shook his head. "The last thing I want to do is get any closer to Greyback. Anybody who follows him would be difficult to convince anyway. Whether they follow him out of devotion or fear, his grip on them would be nearly impossible to break."

"An unfortunate reality…" Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, weighing her words before she told him, "If he does suggest it, you shouldn't. It's too dangerous, too isolated, and far too many know who your friends are and what causes you align yourself with."

"If Dumbledore thinks it could help—"

"He'd be wrong," she said firmly. "You're not expendable, Remus."

He sat back a moment, sipping at his butterbeer. It was a few minutes before he cleared his throat and said, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Caring."

"Of course I care." She paused. "I know I'm not as close to you and Sirius as I am to James—"

"I don't think he'd appreciate it if you were," he joked.

Hermione snorted. "However… I consider you my friends as well."

"I feel the same way."

"I'm glad." With that, she sighed. "As much as I'm enjoying this party, I think it's time I head home."

"Are you sure?" He checked his pocket watch. "Fireworks aren't far off now."

Hermione nodded. "I'm tired." She stood from her seat and reached over to squeeze his shoulder as she passed. "Happy New Year."

"Yeah, you too. Happy New Year."

Hermione made her way through the party, saying her goodbyes as she went.

A spirited Sirius pulled her into a little dance, spinning her around a few times and dipping her, before finally letting her go. He popped a sloppy kiss on her cheek, shouted a deafening 'Happy New Year,' and went back to drinking with Marlene.

Hermione made her way out into the hallway before apparating down the block from her and James' flat. She stopped at a shop to pick up a few things, including a couple hangover and pepper up potions, already expecting to see Sirius and Remus at some point tomorrow. To be fair though, the main thing she wanted to pick up was a pint of cookie dough ice cream.

She already had the lid off the container by the time she entered the flat and made her way directly to a drawer to grab out a spoon. She dropped her things on the counter and was shoving a heaping spoonful of ice cream into her mouth when she turned around and spotted a figure sitting in her favorite armchair.

In the split second it took to reach for her wand, she wondered how well she could cast through a mouthful of ice cream.

Thankfully, she wouldn't have to find out.

James pulled the string on the lamp next to him, illuminating his tired, bruised face.

Relief hit her quickly. She shoved her wand away, left the ice cream on the counter, and was crossing the room in a few long strides.

"James…" She swatted his arm as soon as he was in reach. "You're two days late. We were going to send a search party if you didn't show up by tomorrow."

"Ran into a little trouble." His hands landed on her hips and tugged her forward, reeling her in until she was seated in his lap. Pressing his forehead to her shoulder, he closed his eyes and looped an arm around her, holding her close.

Hermione sunk into him, fingers carding through his hair. "You're okay? You and Lily both?"

He hummed. "Mostly." He rubbed his cheek against her; stubble scratched at her skin. "Brought you a gift."

"Yeah? Is it a souvenir from your mission or something to ring in the new year? Because I haven't gotten you anything."

"Little of both."

Hermione leaned back a little to see him. "You didn't have to get me anything."

"Oh, but I did." He dragged one hand up and down her side. "You'll like this. You've wanted it for some time."

Hermione frowned. "What is it?"

"It was difficult to find. Wasn't where we thought it'd be originally, so I had do a little more digging. The owner didn't want to give it up, but luckily, I'm a better haggler than she is… She got hers in the end." His fingers were suddenly stroking along her forearm, right along her scar.

A lump formed in her throat as what she thought he was referring to started to solidify in her mind. "James. Did you…? The cup?"

He reached for a bag sitting next to the armchair and raised it. "She was keeping it at her house. Hadn't moved it to Gringotts just yet. Her and Rodolphus put up a good fight to keep us from taking it. But we walked away with the cup and they… didn't walk away at all." He winced and put the bag aside. "That's all of them then, yeah?"

Hermione nodded. "Now, all that's left is to kill Voldemort."

"Oh, is that all?"

Hermione wiggled around and laid her head down on his shoulder. "You seriously broke into Bellatrix's home, just you and Lily?"

"Wasn't easy. Had a few close calls…" He grimaced. "The intel I got let me know I had a small window, so we didn't have much choice but to get in there and try to get it out."

"But just the two of you? That's so dangerous." She paused. "Does Lily even know what it is?"

He rubbed one hand over his chin, frowning at the floor thoughtfully. "I didn't tell her it was a Horcrux. She would have questions, and we already agreed that the less people who know what a Horcrux is, the better."

"What did she know?"

"That I had a lead on something important and I needed to go immediately… Remus was already on a job and Sirius just got back from one, he was exhausted."

She stared at his profile searchingly. "You should've told me. If I'd known you had a lead—"

"I know." He clenched his teeth.

Hermione waited. He always got like this when there was more to say but he needed some time to gather his thoughts. She examined him instead; there was a bruise forming high on his left cheek, dried blood under his nose, and a split in his lip. Given it was Bellatrix, she imagined the damage was less external and more internal. She had always been Crucio-happy and Hermione couldn't imagine James had walked away without experiencing it at least once under her wand. She wondered if Lily was any better, and who might be taking care of her post-mission.

"Do you remember when you told me…?" His fingers found her arm and the scar she still had trouble looking at for long. He gently rubbed above where 'd' and 'b' met. "You thought for sure you would die by her wand or that knife or she'd toss you to Greyback…" His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "I remember the rage I felt. It was like a fire in my chest that I couldn't put out. And whenever we'd see her in the field, when I'd hear that cackling laugh of hers, I… I needed to know where you were. That you weren't near her. That she wasn't going to drag you off and finish the job… I couldn't concentrate on anything else. Nearly lost my head a few times because of it. So, when I realized I'd be going into her house, that chances were she'd catch me, I couldn't bring you. I couldn't let her near you again. I'd be too distracted, too worried, that I wouldn't be able to focus on the job."

Hermione stared up at him, his eyes lowered to trace the letters across her arm.

"I know that's a shit excuse. But I just… I want it to be over. I saw an opportunity to get the last Horcrux and I took it. Now, we're one step closer to the end and I… I should be relieved." He half-smiled, but it was utterly bereft. "All I can think is that he's next. He's the final piece. And I'm terrified you'll want to do it yourself."

"James," she whispered.

"I know." He blinked quickly and sniffed. "You deserve to put him down just as much as anyone, maybe even more. Everything you lost, everyone… And I know you're strong enough to do it. You've probably got back up plans for your back up plans. But…" He shook his head. "I don't know what I'd do… I don't know how I'd survive if you…"

Hermione reached up and cupped his face, her thumb swiping across the arch of his cheek. "I won't lie. I thought about it. A lot. I felt like I owed it to Harry. And I didn't want anyone else to risk their life. The point of coming back here and doing this was not just that Harry would live, but that you and your friends and so many innocent people would have the chance to live long, amazing lives… Which meant the only expendable piece on the board was myself. Though I never wanted to admit it, Dumbledore prepared me for this. Me, Harry, and Ron. We were given the latitude to go on our adventures and chase our mysteries and create our defense armies. Harry was raised in such a way as to sacrifice himself when the time came. And, in a way, so were Ron and I. Joined at his hip as we were, building up our skills as we went, readying ourselves for a war that children should never have had to fight. When Dumbledore's portrait gave me an opportunity to fix it, I took it. I jumped in with both feet, a courageous lion willing to do whatever it took to make it right. To save my best friend and everyone who ever meant something to him. And I'm still willing. It's hard not to be when you spend so many years accepting the fact that your death may result in the greater good, whether it's shielding Harry so he can face Voldemort, or doing it yourself."

Tears filled his eyes as he met hers, his mouth trembling. "It's not right," he breathed.

"No, it isn't." She smiled sadly. "None of it is."

His expression hardened, loyalty and determination on such earnest display. "I'll go with you. We'll face him together."

Hermione's heart squeezed. "If you'd said that to me a week ago, I would have agreed."

James' brow furrowed. "I won't let you do this alone."

"I know. But circumstances have changed—"

"Hermione." Sighing, he scrubbed a hand over his face. "I know this, us, we're complicated. And I know you have ideas about how it was all supposed to go and that you think I'm being bullheaded when I tell you that it can't be that way, not anymore. But we started this together. I told you from the beginning that I was in and I meant it. If that means we die trying to put Voldemort down for good, that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. It's my choice whether I'm there with you."

"Bit hypocritical when you went off and got the last Horcrux without me, not even telling me where you were going." Brow furrowed, she frowned at him. "What if you'd died? I wouldn't even know where you'd gone or what you were doing."

"I didn't want you to worry."

"You didn't want me to argue. You didn't want me to do exactly what you're doing, which is tell you that if I had known you were going to Bellatrix's home to steal a Horcrux, I should be there with you. I should be backing you up."

"Which was a dick thing to do, I admit that. But you can't argue that it was wrong for me not to include you and then decide to go against Voldemort on your own."

"That's not what I'm arguing."

"Then what are you saying?" he demanded. "Why can't I be there to fight him with you?"

"Because I… I won't be the one fighting him." Hermione sat up in his lap, her hand sliding from his face to her lap, where she tugged at her fingers anxiously. "I thought I would, and I made the necessary plans to do so. I don't know if it'll be Dumbledore or Moody or McGonagall. I just know that it won't be me and it certainly won't be you."

Confused, he shook his head. "Why?"

"Because… Because I…" She took a deep, shaky breath, and let it out slowly.

"You're worrying me." His expression softened and his hands were rubbing at her knee and her shoulder. "What happened?"

"I didn't expect this, I need you to know that. I never planned for it and I'm not entirely sure what it means. I have… I have theories, of course. But I won't really know until… Well, even then it won't be quite obvious. And there's so much planning to do. So much will have to change, at least until Voldemort's been defeated. And even then, with his followers still loose, we should be careful. But perhaps, after Halloween, then it will be clearer. But that's just speculation and—"

"Hermione." He bit his lip to hide his growing smile. "Love, you need to clue me in. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I…" Her chin shook. "I'm pregnant."

He stared at her for a beat and it was as if time stood still. They sat there, suspended in the infinite unknown of their situation. And then his gaze fell to her stomach. "You're…"

"Yes." She gripped the skirt of her dress and squeezed. "I realized on Friday. The spell came back positive all thirteen times—"

"Thirteen?" He let out a strangled laugh.

"I wanted to be sure." She frowned, even as her mouth quirked at the corners. "Don't make fun. I was overwhelmed and I thought maybe it was a false positive."

"Twelve times in a row?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "So, it might've been slightly excessive…"

"Slightly," he mused, his hand reaching for her stomach and pausing just short of it. "Should I be proud it only took the one night?"

Scoffing, she swatted his shoulder. "You should be brushing up on your contraception spells."

He laughed lightly and pressed his hand down flat against her stomach. "You're what, six weeks along?"

"About that." She covered his hand with her own, thumb stroking along the knuckles of his fingers. "If my math is correct—"

"As if it ever couldn't be."

"—then he'll be born in July. Probably the end of it." Her mouth turned down. "My theory…"

"You think it could be Harry. Or some version of him," he realized. "Time correcting itself to make up for the void that him not being born would leave."

"It's a theory, it doesn't mean it's true… It could just as easily be a girl. Or a boy that looks nothing like my Harry…"

"But the timing of it makes you think it's likely." He stared up at her knowingly. "Would you prefer that? Not so much guilt if he still survived."

Hermione winced. "I feel terrible thinking it. If it's not, then I don't want to put that kind of pressure on them. I… I will love this baby regardless of who it is or who it becomes. It's still ours. It's still…"

James rubbed her arm soothingly.

"I was scared when all thirteen spells came back positive, but another part of me was… hopeful. For so long, I've never let myself truly imagine what my future would look like. Everything has always been about defeating Voldemort and fixing the future. But I had no idea what that would look like for me. My best friends would be, at best, babies. They would never see me as their friend. And I had you, but I didn't; I kept pushing you away. So, trying to envision a future wasn't easy. If I survived Voldemort at all, I had no idea what I would do with myself. And now…" She swallowed back her tears. "Now, no matter what happens, I'll be a mum and I'll have a family. Not the one I lost, but a new one. And I'm terrified. I have no idea what I'm doing. I don't even know what kind of mum I'll make. I- I'm bossy and impatient and I've spent too long at war. I've lost so much that a part of me is scared to love anyone too much. But…" She shook her head. "But this is mine and yours and… And I want it so desperately."

Nodding, he pulled her in close, until they were chest to chest. He cradled her in his arms, kissing her forehead and her cheek and the corner of her mouth. "We can do this. You and me. A new mission. We'll leave Voldemort to Dumbledore and the Order. All right?" He stroked his fingers through her hair. "Maybe it is Harry and maybe it isn't. Whoever they are, they're ours. And they're going to live a long, happy laugh. And so are we." He stared at her seriously. "No more running away now. No more second-guessing it. It's you and me."

Hermione blinked back tears. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was so difficult."

"You weren't."

Hermione sniffled. "Liar."

"You were occasionally difficult," he admitted, rolling his eyes.

She hiccupped a laugh. "I was a nightmare, just admit it."

James hummed. "We got here, didn't we? Just like I always knew we would."

"You're a regular seer," she scoffed.

He grinned. "I didn't see this one coming." He stroked his fingers over her stomach. "But I'm ready."

Hermione's gaze was utterly soft. "You don't seem nearly as scared as I was."

"It's earlier than I was expecting, but that doesn't mean I didn't have it all planned out in my head. I knew you were it from the beginning. Figured I'd convince you around to marrying me before a little prongslet came along, but here we are."

Hermione shook her head. "I've been falling in love with you since the first day we met… I tried not to, but you made it so impossible."

He scrunched his nose and nuzzled it against hers. "Part of my charm."

She laughed under her breath.

Outside, the sky suddenly lit with a burst of fireworks, one after the other, filling the view out their window.

James leaned in to press a sweet, soft, lingering kiss to her lips. "Harry New Year."

Happy indeed.

author's note: huge thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing. writing these two being fluffy and sweet and angsty has been fun for me, so i'm glad you're enjoying them. there is a third part in the works! i'll likely put up one or two other prompts before i get that one finished though. :)

thanks so much for reading. please try to leave a review!
~ Lee | Fina