prompt: "I'd feel much better if you let me walk you home."
tags: au, marauders!live, older man/younger woman, pre-relationship, post second wizarding war

Hermione was just leaving Grimmauld Place. She was still pulling her jacket on, face upturned to meet the cool breeze on her too warm skin, when she heard footsteps approaching. Harry's birthday party had run later than expected. In fact, it was still going on, but Hermione was content with her shadow of a buzz and not particularly fond of hangovers. She'd popped a kiss on Harry's cheek in farewell, waved to the boisterous Weasleys that were still strewn about the parlour, to Sirius and Remus singing at the piano, and to Luna, who was dancing in circles with an invisible partner, completely off beat.

Hermione had just stepped off the stairs and onto the walkway when she heard a voice call out.

Turning back, she spotted James coming down the stairs, shrugging on his own jacket. "Leaving already? I think the twins were about to convince everybody a round of strip poker was due."

Hermione smiled. "I have no doubt they were." She tucked her hands into the pockets of her long coat. "The twins cheat, you know. They always win."

"Well, Padfoot's never met a game of poker he didn't use to show off his bare arse, so I doubt he'll care."

Amused, Hermione shook her head. "Somehow, I'm not surprised."

"Are you heading home? Remus made sure rooms were made up for all the guests. Merlin knows Sirius wouldn't think of it."

Hermione nodded. "It was fun, but I'd prefer to avoid the hangover. Plus, Crookshanks is always in a snit if I stay out overnight." She paused. "Which, out loud, I realize sounds incredibly sad. I swear I don't organize my evenings around my moody cat. Contrary to popular belief, I do have a social life."

James laughed under his breath and ducked his head. "Having met Crookshanks, I'm not sure I'd want to be on his bad side either."

"Lucky then that he likes you." Her brow furrowed. "You know, he's very particular about who he likes. I was always a little surprised how quickly he took to Sirius. Mostly, because his animagus is a dog. You'd think they'd dislike one another."

"I think it's less about species and more about intention." At her curious look, he explained, "Crookshanks is a good judge of character."

"Bit of flattery in there for yourself since he likes you so much." She rocked back on her heels. "Are you planning on joining the poker game?"

James glanced back at Grimmauld Place. "Much as I'm sure they'd enjoy the show, I was thinking of heading back to my flat too. Do you mind if I join you?"

"To the apparition point?" she asked, a little surprised.

"Actually, I'd feel much better if you let me walk you home…" Before she could argue, he said, "I know you can handle yourself. You've more than proved that. But it's late and, even if the streets aren't teeming with Death Eaters, it can't hurt to be careful."

"This from a man I have personally seen dangling upside down from his broom with nothing but his ankles gripped around it."

"To be fair, that was supposed to be a Sloth Grip Roll, but my hands slipped."

"That's not the least bit comforting."

He shrugged. "Much easier risking my own life than others." He offered her an elbow. "I'll walk you safe and sound to your flat and then you can be rid of me."

Hermione rolled her eyes and hooked her arm through his. "It's not a matter of being rid of you. I just don't feel like I need an escort. I'm hardly buzzed and I have a feeling you wouldn't be doing the same if it was Ron or one of his brothers leaving early."

"I resent that. I'd cheerfully link arms with any of the Weasley boys and walk them home if they let me." He tugged her along as he started down the sidewalk. "We wouldn't make nearly as good looking a couple, but some things can't be helped."

Hermione snorted inelegantly. "I don't know. Bill is quite fetching with his dragon tooth earring."

"Yeah? You think so?"

Humming, Hermione smiled. "Charlie's rather handsome too. It's that rugged dragon keeper thing. Lavender's mentioned a few times that all that wrangling has made him rather fit."

James laughed lightly. "Are you sure you don't want to head back for the poker game? Catch a peek for yourself."

"Hardly." She hugged his arm a little tighter, turning her face to his shoulder as the wind kicked up. What had been a nice reprieve from how warm the house became was less so now, a bite to the breeze that stung her skin.

The apparition point wasn't a far walk, but it may have been a little further than she'd been thinking it was. And there were a fair few more people still out and about, including a small group of men, drunkenly singing sea shanties. She could admit, at least to herself, that she was somewhat glad that James had decided to join her.

"Can I ask you something?"

Hermione tilted her head to see him. James Potter had been something of a childhood crush, if she were honest. Somewhere around puberty, she'd realized her best friend's father was, well, to put it simply, incredibly fit. Of course, those were the idle thoughts of a young woman. She had grown out of it somewhere around fifth year, about the time she started realizing her feelings for Ron were a little more friendly than they were for Harry. Her unspoken crush on James had been buried deep until a few years ago. He'd only gotten fitter, unfortunately, and adulthood had reminded her of that fact like a bludger to the face.

"I'm hesitantly saying yes, only because the last time Sirius asked me that question, it led to a very frank discussion about advancements in Muggle contraceptives that I hope to never repeat."

James laughed, a deep rumble from his chest. "His own fault for spending so much time in Muggle pubs."

"You say that as if you're not right there with him most Saturdays."

He hummed. "But I, unlike him, tend to head home on my own. And, you'll be comforted to know, have learned the basics around Muggle birth control."

Hermione bit her lip to hide a smile. "Is that right?"

"Lily made a point of explaining it to me early on in our relationship. We still relied on magical options, but that didn't stop Harry from coming along, did it?"

Her head tipped back as she laughed. "I suppose some things just can't be guaranteed."

He grinned. "Can't complain. Rather like the tyke."

Hermione snorted. "He's officially twenty-five. I'm not sure tyke applies anymore."

His smile softened. "Ah, he'll always be my little boy."

It was statements like that which reminded Hermione she was only a year older than his son and her wayward feelings for him really should be shoved to the deepest reaches of her brain. But they clung on, much longer than ever expected. After the war ended, Hermione found herself spending more time around Harry's family. His father, godfather, and uncle had always been such a huge part of his life. But they had been weighed down by the return of Voldemort and what that could mean for Harry. When it was finally over, it was as if she could see the stress slough off them all, freed of the oppressive chains of their constant worry. Remus threw himself into being a husband and a father. Sirius picked up his old serial dating ways. And James… James let himself relax. He grinned more now that he didn't have the knowledge his son might die at any moment hanging over him like a cloud.

War tended to age people, and the remaining three Marauders spent years trying to keep Harry from being destroyed by it. Much like she and Ron had. Now that it was all over, it took some time for everyone to find their footing again. Seven years later, Hermione thought things had mostly settled. There was a routine now, with tea and suppers spread throughout the week between Molly's, James', and Lily's. Hermione didn't go to every event, having to balance it all with work, but she tried to be present as much as possible.

"What did you want to ask me?"

James glanced at her and then squinted ahead, brow furrowed. "It's about Ron."

"I can neither confirm nor deny that he was the one that broke the lamp in the den. Though I think it's rather obvious."

His mouth twitched. "No, I already knew it was him. I hated that lamp anyway." He cleared his throat. "I was actually wondering... why you two never worked out."

Hermione's brows hiked. "Oh."

"Is that too personal? You don't have to answer. I just… Molly's not too subtle about hinting you two should reunite." He scrubbed a hand through his hair, sending cowlicks in every direction. "Guess I wondered what happened there."

After the war ended, she and Ron had made a real go of it. They'd lasted a little over two years. It was one of the more defining relationships in her life. There were times, even now, when she wondered if it was the right thing to end it. But Ron was happy now, playing for the Chudley Cannons, casually seeing a nice witch who loved Quidditch nearly as much as him. As much as Hermione had loved him, it never quite felt like it was supposed to.

"There are a lot of reasons," she mused. "We both have such… big personalities that I often felt like we were trying to outdo each other. If I was upset, he had to be more so. It was like we fell into that role we first had when we were children and we just rubbed each other the wrong way. It didn't mean we didn't love each other. We did. But it could be so exhausting. We're very different, we like different things, and that's okay for some people. There were times where I felt like I was wrong for loving what I do. Like it was boring or inconvenient or he just wished I could be different. And I'm sure we all have moments like that. I know I wanted him to care more, to put in the same amount of effort that I did. Eventually, I realized that even though we loved each other, we didn't quite fit. It was difficult, because I'd spent so many years thinking that once we got together, it would all make sense. The tension and the longing would be worth it. And for a while, it was. I don't regret our relationship and I don't think he does either. But we're better off now as friends."

James nodded. "Bit like me and Lily then."

"Really?" She looked up at him, surprised. "I'll admit, most of Sirius' stories were from your Hogwarts days, when you made no secret of your feelings."

He grinned. "I was a git. A very loud, very persistent git."

"If the stories are right, yes, you were."

He laughed. "I grew up enough by seventh year that she gave me a chance. And it was great. Got everything I wanted. Married the girl of my dreams, had Harry, couldn't be better… Besides the war going on in the background, of course."

"Of course."

They paused then, ducking into an alley where the apparition point was. She side-along apparated him to a spot a few blocks from her flat. As they stepped out into the street once more, James continued his story.

"War tends to make people feel like they have to jam every good thing in that they can before it's gone. I don't regret Harry a bit, but me and Lily, well, we rushed into the marriage part. I loved her, always will, but things weren't quite the same after Voldemort was taken out the first time. We were lucky we survived, should've been overjoyed that we had a chance to just be a family. But we were both traumatized and we didn't handle it well."

Hermione pressed her shoulder against his. "You seem to get along well now."

"It took us a long time to rebuild a friendship. We were both in a bad place after the divorce. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for her. She's made a good life for herself. And I was a bitter arse early on. But she was right to go, and we made it work the best we could."

"Do you regret it? Divorcing?"

"I regret falling in love when war was knocking at the door. It put unrealistic expectations on both of us. Stretched us too thin so that when that pressure wasn't there, we didn't know how to be with each other. That kind of trauma is hard to get past. We lost a lot of good friends and we spent over a year in hiding. We were sick of each other by the end of it." He shook his head. "I think the hardest part was telling Sirius and Remus. They tried to reassure me that it would all come out right in the wash. We'd find our way back. My own fault, I guess, for insisting we would end up together."

"Sometimes, people come together at the right time for the right reasons. That doesn't mean they stay together. It's no one's fault. It's just life." She smiled. "And it's like you said, you got Harry out of it, so it must've been worth it."

"It was all worth it. Even without Harry. Lily taught me a lot about myself. I'm not sure I would've grown up half as much without her influence."

"Maybe. But you were already getting there in seventh year, you said so yourself." She stared up at him, admiring his profile. "Have you dated much since the divorce? I can't remember Harry mentioning anyone significant."

"Here or there, nothing long-lasting. Once Dumbledore told us Voldemort would return and Harry would be targeted, that took up most of my attention. Wasn't sure I could trust anyone back then, especially after what Peter did…" He frowned. "It's only been recently, these last few years, knowing Voldemort's really gone and there's no chance he'll come back for another round, that I've thought about it. Dating again."

"Yeah?" She half-smiled. "It's strange, isn't it? The war played such a huge part in my life, I wasn't sure what to do with myself when it ended. Going back to school made sense, but I think I went because I wanted to feel normal again. I wanted to put that year on the run behind me."

"Hard to forget though, isn't it?"

"We all had different experiences and I know the other students, the ones that stayed, had a terrible time of it. But it felt like I couldn't quite relate to them anymore. And then when I graduated, I shifted all my focus into my job and tried to make things work with Ron. But you're right, trauma leaves an imprint that's hard to overcome."

"And now?"

"Now… I finally feel like I have my feet under me again. I love my job, I have amazing friends, and even though I'll never forget what happened or how it affected me, I feel safe again. You know? Like the world isn't as dangerous as it once was."

James nodded. "Good. You deserve that. All of you do."

They slowed as they reached her building and Hermione wondered if she should say goodbye out here or let him lead her right up to her door. The wriggling in her stomach was entirely too reminiscent of butterflies for her tastes. These feelings really were entirely too inconvenient. They were friends. If that. She was best friends with his son, so they were… what? Acquaintances? That didn't quite fit for the many years they spent in each other's orbit.

"Hermione?"

"Hm?" She looked up at him.

The wind sent some of her hair flying against her face and he tucked it back. The soft skim of his fingers against her cheek and around the shell of her ear sent a shiver down her back that she would fully blame on the cool night air if asked.

"Are you busy tomorrow?"

Her gaze fell for a moment, thoughtfully. "I don't think so. Supper at Molly's, I expect. Otherwise, I'm free."

James nodded. "Would you like to get coffee? Or lunch?"

She blinked at him a moment. "Just you and me?"

"Suppose you could ask Harry along, but I don't usually introduce a date to my son that early on."

Hermione let out a startled laugh. "Date?"

"If you're interested." He took a deep breath as if bracing himself for rejection. "Unless I'm overstepping entirely, in which case, feel free to tell me."

"Oh, no, I…" She smiled. "I'm interested."

He grinned then, lopsided and charming. "Yeah?"

"Yes." She bit her lip. "Did you offer to walk me home just to ask me out?"

"I would've offered regardless."

"But?"

"But it was a good opportunity," he admitted.

"Is that why you asked about Ron?"

"Molly really does think you two will end up back together." He rocked back on his heels. "I know after Lily and I split, there were a few years there I thought we might try again. Wasn't sure if maybe you felt the same way about Ron."

Hermione shook her head. "He'll always be one of my best friends."

"Okay." He stared at her searchingly. "Can I walk you to your door?"

"Are you planning on saying hello to Crookshanks?"

He laughed under his breath. "Caught me."

Smiling, Hermione led him to the front door of her building. It didn't take long for them to climb the two flights of stairs to her floor and, before she knew it, she was shedding her coat while James took a seat in an armchair, petting a lapful of purring Crookshanks. It should have been strange, how easily he fit in her home. He'd only been by maybe a handful of times over the years, the first being when he, Remus, and Sirius helped her move in. But here he was, with his boots at her door, jacket slung over an arm of the coat rack, seated comfortably in her living room with her cat utterly enamoured with him.

"Tea?" she offered.

"Please." He scrubbed his fingers between Crookshanks' ears. "How're you, Big Guy? Still hunting down traitorous rats in your off time?"

"I think it might've only been the one." Hermione pulled out a couple mugs. "These days, he prefers long naps and too many treats."

"Ah, he deserves it."

She put the kettle on and stood in the doorway, watching him smile at Crookshanks. "Can I ask…"

"How long have I liked you?"

Chewing her lip, she shrugged. "Suppose I'm curious what brought it on."

"Is it that hard to believe I'd fancy a beautiful, brilliant, spitfire of a witch?"

A warm flush filled her cheeks and fanned down her neck. "I'm flattered, but still curious."

He grinned, showing off pearly white teeth and dimples. She imagined that face of his had enamored a fair few over the years. "A couple years now."

"Years?" Her brows hiked. "You were good at hiding it."

James' gaze fell to Crookshanks. "Wasn't sure how appropriate it was, fancying my son's best mate. Couldn't imagine you fancying me back."

"What changed?"

His smile widened again. "Caught you staring at my arse."

Hermione's mouth fell open. "When?"

"Does it happen a lot then?" He stared up at her, mischief swimming in his eyes. "Can't pinpoint it on your own?"

Hermione flapped a hand at him and made a scoffing noise before she turned to busy herself pouring them each a mug of tea. All the while hoping the flame of embarrassment filling her face might dull. By the time she took a seat on the sofa across from him, handing him his mug while she cradled her own to her chest, she was fairly sure she could at least meet his eyes. "Was it at billiards or when you and Sirius got into that wrestling match?"

He laughed under his breath; a deep chuckle that rattled his chest and made her squeeze her thighs closed. "Billiards. And I won that wrestling match."

Rather boldly, especially for her, she said, "Considering the view, I'm fairly sure I won both instances."

His eyes widened with delight as he stared at her. "That so?"

Her face still felt too warm but she raised a challenging eyebrow. "You look good in Muggle denims."

"Do I?"

She hummed and sipped her tea.

"I'll remember that for our date tomorrow."

Heat bloomed in her chest. "Good."

He stared at her searchingly. "How about you? When did you start fancying me?"

Hermione scrunched up her nose. "Why don't we leave it as 'much earlier.'"

Amusement danced on his face. "Liked older gentleman from a young age, hm?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, I happened to fancy Remus back in third year, if you must know."

He laughed warmly. "Remus always did catch the eye of the smart ones… Couldn't convince him anyone was interested, too hellbent on hating himself. But it's hard not to like a bloke that smart and kind."

"He was brilliant. The first DADA professor that really knew what he was doing. A schoolgirl crush turned into admiration soon enough…" She paused. "I did like you while I was at Hogwarts. Just in passing. You've always been handsome. But then there was Ron and I hardly knew you then. It wasn't until later, after the war, that we ever really talked. That I could see you as your own person and not as just an extension of Harry. And then… Well… You're brilliant too, and funny and warm and—"

"Dashingly handsome?"

She looked up, caught his eyes, and smiled. "That too."

"Suppose we have a good foundation to see where this might go then. Mutually brilliant and beautiful as we are."

"Suppose we do." She tapped her fingers against her mug. "With Harry…"

"We'll take it slow. See how we fit together on our own first. And if we do, if we fit, then we talk to Harry."

Hermione nodded. The weight of what that meant. Of telling her best mate she was dating his father, seemed almost inconceivable. An idea with no real weight. They hadn't yet begun; they were an idea on the edge of fruition. But she could feel an excited heat spreading through her limbs. The realization that when they did begin, it would be worth it. It would be deep and warm and utterly fulfilling. Anticipation made the tips of her fingers buzz. He was right there, long fingers still scrubbing between Crookshanks ears.

It wasn't long before the tea was finished and Crookshanks had left his lap to curl up on the end of the sofa. Hermione walked James to the door of her flat, a restless feeling surging through her hands. He pulled on his boots and lingered in the doorway, staring down at her. Her heart was beating a little too quick and her eyes kept glancing at his mouth. "Thank you for walking me home."

He reached for her, a large palm landing on her waist, and tugged her a few inches forward. His lips, warm and firm, met her cheek, his nose nuzzling her gently. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes," she said, breathier than she was expecting.

He smiled one last time, and then he was walking away. The weight of his hand leaving her felt like an anchor had escaped and her body was suddenly adrift. She nearly called him back, asked him to stay. It wasn't like her. She liked to wait, to get an idea of how compatible she was with a person on every level. A reckless desire to be spontaneous surged through her.

He turned on his heel at the top of the stairs and grinned at her. "You feel that?"

She swallowed tightly. "What?"

"The anticipation." He tapped his fingers over his chest, right where his heart lay. "When it's right, you can feel it. Right down to your toes."

Hermione's heart swooped in her chest. "Lot of pressure for a first date."

He grinned. "I thrive under pressure." With that, he turned on his heel and walked down the stairs.

Hermione waited until he was out of sight before ducking back into her flat and closing the door. She hadn't been expecting that. In truth, she'd thought her feelings would never be returned and would just have to find a way to move past them. But now, she didn't have to. Tomorrow, they would explore what could be. She hoped it lived up to expectation. She had a feeling it would.

author's note: i haven't posted in... ages, lol. i had this piece finished, it just needed some editing, so i thought i'd finally post it. i've been working off and on some larger james/hermione fics in the meantime. i'm going to try and put out a few more sentence prompts soon! thanks so much for reading!