Once again a huge thank you goes out for all the wonderful reviews I received! My readers are the best! This chapter is a bit shorter, but I believe a turning point in this story. I hope you all enjoy!
Chapter Five: A Night in the House
James Sirius Potter loved his aunt Hermione's house because it had her written all over it. Floor to ceiling bookshelves painted white or pale cornflower blue were scattered about the house, all of them full to the brim with titles the older witch knew by heart, as well as knickknacks, antiques, and heirlooms. Muggle photographs were neatly framed and hanging on the walls, as well as paintings his aunt had collected over the years and on her travels. The pictures were what caught James' attention the most though, especially the ones in black and white, which was a bit strange to James who was used to moving, colored magical pictures. They were mostly shots of Aunt Hermione's trips, of her with her parents, her old cat Crookshanks, her Hogwarts days... James had even seen his father, mother, aunt Luna and even uncle Ron featured in quite a few of them. Of course, there were also pictures of his cousins Rose and Hugo from the time they were babies up until Albus and Rose's joint birthday in the Burrow last month.
James, however, had been surprised to find a single magical photograph framed on top of aunt Hermione's work desk when she had asked him to fetch a pen and paper yesterday— a picture of a younger aunt Hermione smiling brightly and looking down lovingly at a sleeping baby that was cradled in her arms. At first glance James had assumed it was either Hugo or Rose, but had been surprised when she'd caught him staring and informed him that the picture was taken the day she first met him at St. Mungo's, right after James had been born.
"You were the sweetest little thing James, you still are." She had said and had run her fingers through his dark hair, leaning down to gently press her lips to his forehead. James took comfort in his aunt's embraces, caresses, and pampering—he found that it made him feel a lot better, it made him feel safe and loved, in a certain way that he hadn't felt since his mother had still been alive. Despite this, aunt Hermione was completely different from James' mum. Aunt Hermione was a mama bear, both fierce and affectionate and James felt comfortable being alone with her and just talking or sharing his thoughts and feelings. His aunt never seemed to be lacking in the interest of what he did or said, or pretending to listen while in her mind she was thinking of other things. James liked that about her.
Aunt Hermione's house was three stories high if you counted the attic bedroom belonging to Rose and on the outside, it was painted a light blue, but the front door and window shutters were a beautiful shade of red. James liked the place very much. It wasn't as large as Grimmauld Place where he lived, but for some reason, he felt much more at ease here even if with all seven of them under the same roof it could get crowded, loud and chaotic at times. The boy decided he liked the house because of its smell, a pleasant blend of ocean, old books, leather and the vanilla scent which he knew belonged to his aunt. The Potters had been here with aunt Hermione nearly a week and to James, the time had been passing far too quickly, he didn't want the summer to end and wanted even less to return to London and Grimmauld.
The second floor of the house was practically a corridor with four doors, a flight of stairs going down, another going up into the attic, and a large bay window with yet another window seat that overlooked the ocean and a part of St. Julian's chapel at the shore, which inundated the small space with light. The first door to the left was Hermione's room that had it's own bathroom inside, overlooking the street with its stone paved road and colorful row houses. Next to it was Hugo's bedroom which the little boy was now sharing with Lily. The first door to the right was the guest bedroom, right across from aunt Hermione's, where James, Albus, and their dad had set up camp, Dad and Albus on the double bed and James on the single mattress on the floor. The final door led to a bathroom, which James really liked because when he bathed in the tub he could perfectly see the beach below and he could just sit there for hours looking at the different boats and the people enjoying their summer day, pretending he lived on a lighthouse.
James found himself bored with the movie they had been made to watch although his younger siblings and cousins seemed to disagree as they were deeply engrossed in their Peter Pan movie, hoping for the evil Captain Hook's defeat. James slipped out of his aunt's large and soft iron bed and quietly left the room, the other kids completely oblivious to his departure. He descended the stairs and could already hear loud music and singing coming from the kitchen, the yellow lights casting upon the darkness of the living room as the sun had already gone down and the adults hadn't bothered to flick the lights on. James didn't bother either and when he peeked into the large kitchen he saw his aunt singing her heart out to a song he'd never heard before, his dad sitting on one of the chairs surrounding the long wooden table laughing in a way that James hadn't seem him laugh in a long time as he peeled a pile of potatoes the muggle way.
"Life is a Ca-ba-ret!" he heard aunt Hermione finishing her song loudly and dramatically, along with the singer whose voice came from her laptop placed on top of the kitchen counter. His father clapped with a silly smile etched to his face as she curtsied and thanked her invisible audience, cheeks turning bright pink when her eyes caught sight of James staring at her, wearing an expression of amusement.
"What song is that, aunt 'Mione?" Hermione smiled.
"That, kind sir is Cabaret, sung by the one and only Liza Minelli, queen of Broadway along with Barbra Streisand." The confusion etched on James' face made his father roll his eyes and pull the chair next to him for the boy to sit.
"It's a song from a muggle musical film and play, James. Liza Minelli is the artist who performs this song and as you can see aunt Hermione is a big fan." James nodded, now understanding. "Is your movie over?" James shook his head.
"I got bored with it, but the others seem to like it." Hermione seemed to be seasoning a large bowl of meat that she would later grill for dinner when she looked at James.
"Jamie, grab the black pepper for me over there, love?" James got up from his chair and did as asked. He would never understand why aunt Hermione wouldn't just accio the things in the kitchen with her wand or say a bunch of spells like grandma Molly did so the knives could cut, peel and chop and the dishes would wash themselves to avoid all the hassle. "Thank you." She seemed to be humming another tune as she went about the kitchen and asked Harry if he thought he'd finish with the potatoes in time for Sunday, which amused James greatly as Sunday was still several days away. "Oh, but honestly, the downside of magic is that everyone gets so bloody lazy!" She cried in exasperation, rolling her eyes as she rinsed her hands on the sink.
Harry chuckled at her antics and winked at James as he pulled his wand out of his pants pockets and in a split second the knives were peeling the God-forsaken potatoes by themselves. He got up from his seat and stretched, yawning lazily as if to spite Hermione, who in return rolled her eyes again, something James noticed she did a lot of until she acquiesced and chuckled, unable to stay annoyed at her best friend.
James couldn't quite remember a single moment where his mum and dad were together in the kitchen. Usually, it was one or the other who cooked, exclusively alone, because Harry had his way of doing things and Ginny had her own. The few times they had attempted to cook together had been a disaster, ending with the food not being nearly as perfect and the two angrily bickering and complaining about and to one another. The boy watched with interest as his father loaded a large pan full of water onto the lit stove and carefully threw the peeled potatoes inside, while aunt Hermione set the meet outside and began to prepare a leafy salad with some grated carrots and zucchini and olives thrown into the mix. In a small bowl she squeezed half a lemon, olive oil and threw in a bunch of spices, some water and a pinch of salt for the salad dressing and not one moment did his aunt and dad become truly angry with one another or complain. But then again, it was no secret to anyone that the duo had always made a perfect team.
-/-
The entire household was now gathered around the wooden table and aunt Hermione had put some soft music in the background, Greek instrumental music or something, but it certainly was nice and set the mood.
The adults ate dinner accompanied with a glass of red wine each while the children drank fresh orange juice with their meal.
"Mum, can we visit the castle tomorrow?" Rose asked, raising her voice a bit since Hugo and Lily were conversing loudly and enthusiastically around her.
"I don't see why not, Rosie, maybe Granny Nell and Granddad could take you lot up there with uncle Harry, I'm afraid I have to be at the bookshop tomorrow." Hermione shared a look with Harry who sat across from her, who simply nodded and shrugged, letting her know that he didn't mind at all. "My parents are terrific guides!" Rose smiled brightly at the prospect, she loved visiting the castle and getting to explore their little town as much as she could, Hermione detecting in her daughter a little historian in the making. "Hugo, Lily—let's use our inside voices please, we're all sitting around the table together." She said, snapping her fingers to gain the two youngest children's attention, which she succeeded in.
"Yes, mummy." Hermione shook her head and grinned at Hugo, winking at him and at Lily.
"James, Albie, you both are quiet tonight, excited to explore the castle tomorrow?" Harry asked minutes later, while Hermione flicked her wand to have all the dishes removed from the table and stacked neatly inside the sink. She opened her freezer and pulled out a tub of chocolate chip ice cream and summoned seven bowls and spoons. She placed the dessert on top of the table and the little kids especially were eager for the treat.
"Yes, daddy. Just tired..." Albus informed him, yawning right after as if to prove a point. They'd had a very eventful and tiring day indeed, what with all the running, swimming and playing they did at the beach. Hermione stood behind Albus and ran her fingers through his dark messy curls, running her knuckles gently against his cheek. Albus leaned into her touch almost purring like a kitten and she smiled with satisfaction as he leaned his head against her. She continued to caress his hair as he smiled contentedly and Harry wondered where on earth she had gained the superpowers to completely captivate and bewitch every single Potter, to the point where they worshiped the floor that she walked upon. "Aunt 'Mi, I don't think I'll hear much of your story today," he mumbled releasing another yawn. She chuckled and kissed the top of his head tenderly.
"That's all right, baby. You go put on your pajamas now," she instructed and he, of course, did what he was told. Hermione sat back on her chair and immediately Lily and Hugo climbed up on her lap and Harry didn't know how she could fit both in her arms. They weren't about to have her fussing over Albus and not give them her cares and attention as well. Five minutes of caresses and Eskimo kisses later, Harry found himself carrying the sleeping five-year-olds upstairs and helping them into their pajamas as Hermione threw the empty tub of ice cream away, made sure all the doors and windows were locked and ushered a still wide awake Rose and James upstairs to get ready for bed. She tucked them both in and then entered her bedroom where she changed into her silk ivory-colored pajama pants and loose sleeveless top. Harry had kissed each of the five children goodnight and made sure each and every one of them was comfortable and warm enough. He entered the guest room he shared with Albus and James and changed into his sleeping clothes, careful as not to wake them and then slipped into the bed next to Al. He turned on his side and stared at the digital clock perched on the bedside table. He saw as five minutes turned into fifteen and then into thirty and sleep didn't come. He sighed and grabbed his wand that was under his pillow, about to cast his Patronus to send a message to Hermione, who he knew to probably still be awake when he heard the soft creaking of his bedroom door opening and saw her motioning with her hand for him to follow her.
No different from the children of the house, he followed her lead, straight into her bedroom across the hall.
-/-
They lay side by side on her bed facing each other. She had snuggled her way into his arms until her head rested on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her. She had flung an arm around his chest and her fingers played with his beard as they lay together in complete silence, the room dark except for the dim yellow light of a candle on top of Hermione's dresser, that released the homey scent of vanilla that she carried.
"You're spoiling us rotten..." he said finally, breaking the comfortable silence and she softly shook her head and grinned slightly. "It's wonderful but will also make returning home difficult..." he admitted, quietly.
"I'll miss you and the children too, Harry. You know I always have..." She responded, finally. "I miss this sense of peace and security I get from having you around, even though I know from experience that being with you doesn't come without its adventures." Her fingers trailed away from his beard and grazed the back of his neck and year before curling the edges of his dark locks around her finger, eliciting goosebumps on his skin, the pleasant kind. His breath hitched and Hermione smiled victoriously.
Harry's mind suddenly diverted to another night many years ago inside a cold tent in the forest of dean, when it had been just the two of them inside a tent because Ron had left and he tried to be strong for them both, because her grief, sadness, and sacrifices had finally become unbearable with the departure of their friend and the redhead young man she loved. The two of them had shared a dance to Beethoven's music on the wireless, bodies close for heat and comfort, but even then, Harry now realized he could feel the sparks he felt for her, the rush and heat of his blood underneath his skin when she touched him, the soothing effect of her warmth and loving touches.
Harry had been a married man and despite their moments and occasional rows, he had been completely faithful to his wife Ginny and had completely hidden that specific memory in a deep, dark and inaccessible compartment of his brain, so that he wouldn't plague himself with the silly 'what if's'. But laying here in her arms, just the two of them in the dark, no danger surrounding them, he realized that for the first time in sixteen years they were both romantically available and perhaps maybe this time he could allow his mind to dwell on the 'what if' of something, a relationship, a bond, a love that went deeper than just friendship.
"Harry?" She whispered softly, a certain energy shifting in the room surrounding them. He opened his eyes which he hadn't even realized had been shut and what had been revealed to her were pupils dilated with only a thin ring of emerald circling them. She could feel the fast intensity of his heartbeat under her arm. Her cheeks and torso flushed profusely and suddenly a small cool breeze invaded the bedroom from the crack in her window and suddenly she was hyper-aware of the nipples that had hardened at the combination of that contact and the look in his eyes, the very nipples that were covered by a barely-there layer of silk fabric and the thin gray cotton of his shirt. Their eyes locked for what felt one long electrifying moment. Her breath hitched and so did his and then he felt the tips of his fingers wrapped around her back and her upper arm slightly moving until she was certain those very fingertips grazed the curve of her breast that had been hidden beneath her arm. She shivered with pleasure and the oxygen completely escaped her lungs. He saw it, the flicker of pleasure and also danger in her brown eyes, her pupils also dilating with arousal. 1, 2, 3, seconds passed and she felt it again, his fingertips grazing her breast. Before she knew it her arm had almost involuntarily pulled his head towards hers and for the first time in the twenty-three years they had known each other and never dared to cross the uncharted boundary of friendship and something more... they kissed. Hungrily, intensely, their lips battling for dominance and finally their tongues.
Hermione's hand tugged on the collar of his shirt, pulling him ever closer, on top of her, her perfect, elegant and curvy long legs wrapping around him, trying to pull him ever nearer. His fingers reveled in the softness of her skin and finally wandered under that sexy and tempting silk top, sliding adoringly up until finally they touched her full round breasts that for a long time he had secretly fantasized about. Hermione could feel even now the bulge in his trousers, his hard member that pressed and rubbed against her that wanted nothing more but to be freed from its fabric constraints, into her touch, inside her womanhood. His lips kissed and suckled at that spot she loved under her earlobe while his left hand kneaded her breast and the other supported his weight against the mattress. She busied her hands with removing his shirt, which she threw across the bedroom and their lips met again, passionately. He was about to free her from the restraints of her own shirt when suddenly Hermione's bedroom door flew open and her eyes registered the sleepy and then shocked eyes of both Rose and Albus. The two adults quickly and instinctively untangled from one another and Hermione pulled the duvet up to cover any indecencies. They'd been lucky enough to have been covered by the sheets, except for Harry's discarded shirt, their pajamas were still on.
Hermione's mortified eyes met with those of her daughter's, wide-eyed, whose lips began to tremble and then retreated back to her room upstairs. Hermione mentally cursed herself for being so stupid, she should have put up a privacy spell, she knew that sometimes Rose would get scared of sleeping by herself in her attic bedroom and sometimes came down to join her mother... She'd ruined everything, she now realized, her strictly friends relationship with Harry and now...
Harry cursed under his breath and followed an angry looking Albus back into the bedroom across the hall, the bedroom he perhaps should never have wandered away from. He shot Hermione a look of apology as he left, while she simply lay there body still humming from all the sexual arousal but only regret floating around her mind. She sighed heavily and dragged herself into her bathroom where she splashed some cool water on her face, dried it on a towel and made her way upstairs where an upset Rose lay in bed, clearly upset as her little back faced the door.
"Rose, I'm sorry..." Hermione started and attempted to run a gentle hand through her daughter's rust-colored curls. "I was irresponsible and made a mistake, I'm sorry..." Hermione felt her own lips tremble now and soon there were tears pooling in her eyes. "Mums make mistakes too, you know?" Hermione whispered and sat on the edge of her daughter's bed, crying into her own hands. Rose shifted and turned over to look at her mother, eyes puffy from having cried out of shock. The sweet little girl found it impossible to hold a grudge against her mother and sat up, crawling towards Hermione and hooking her arm with her's, lacing their fingers together.
"It's okay, mummy. Please don't be sad..." She whispered, protectively. Hermione pulled her beautiful, intelligent bighearted daughter into her arms and hugged her.
"I love you Rose Helena Granger-Weasley..." Rose flinched at the use of her full name, "Merlin, what a mouthful!" Hermione exclaimed, lightning the mood and making Rose giggle as they held each other.
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