A/N: Welcome back friends to chapter two of my lighter Jamione fare :) I'd love to be able to update this regularly, however, it's possibly number four on my priority list of manuscripts to finish. ADSM will still take top priority, so look for updates there this weekend! Thanks so much for reading and I hope you all enjoy.

FALLING SLOWLY

II: First Impressions

Dear Mister Potter,

While I appreciate the trouble and don't doubt the methods of coercion our mutual acquaintance used to procure your services, this damsel is in no need of saving, thank you. You may feel free to send Harry to me, should assurances be needed he will not retaliate for breaking your word. I can assure you I am properly mortified our acquaintance brought this matter to your attention, as I am quite adept at solving my own problems. Apologies for taking so much of your time.

Thank you and good evening,

H.J. Granger

Hermione was just stepping into her favorite pyjama pants, the ones with the charmed spinning time turners, when she was accosted by an insistent tapping at her bedroom window.

With a shout, she tripped over her feet and landed on her already sore bum.

"Bollox!" she cursed, something she had once been so adamantly against, as she reached unconsciously for her wand.

Where is it!

She'd taken off her holster after rechecking the wards as she did each evening.

Oh just brilliant, Hermione!

Her burgeoning panic subsided, however, as another round of tapping at the window and second glance revealed the identity of her intruder.

Any relief she might have felt was quickly replaced with ire.

It was his owl again.

Hadn't her reply been clear enough?

Hermione righted herself with a barely suppressed groan before reaching the window latch. After a moment of wandless magic, she opened the window to allow Mr. Potter's owl inside.

She unfolded his letter and began to read:

Hermione,

Please call me James. I reserve the right of first names for my friends and Mr. Potter for the Ministry.

Although I don't doubt your sincerity, I assure you it's no trouble. I confess I have heard so much of you from all three of our mutual acquaintances, I looked forward to knowing more of the Brightest Witch of our Age.

While you insist on fighting your own battles, of which I know you're fully capable, I'm afraid I'm unable to go back on my oath. All shall be explained in full should you meet me tomorrow at nine o'clock.

I'll be waiting either way, Miss Granger.

Sincerely yours,

James Potter

Hermione hissed through her teeth and tossed the letter aside. She had no intention of satisfying anyone's curiosity or Harry's whims.

"You can go back to your master. No reply, thank you very much," she said before waving the owl back through the window with an indignant huff.

She turned off the bedroom light and curled beneath her covers, wand safely tucked beneath her pillow. Only then did she feel secure enough in her decision. Why would she agree to flying lessons, let alone meet such an infamous figure in public? It was madness, that's what.

Leave it to a Marauder, was her last thought before sleep claimed her.

At precisely a quarter until nine o'clock, the following morning, Hermione Granger Apparated just off Church Lane in Godric's Hollow.

Upon waking, she had re-read Mr. Potter's letters. Perhaps it was her own curiosity or desperation, or perhaps it was his subtly worded challenge to meet him today that pushed her beyond the safety of her own wards and into the world.

Come on, you can do this. It's fine. You need to be in public for this job after all.

With her wand in one hand, her small beaded bag in the other, Hermione glanced about the Apparition point and checked to see if her notice-me-not charm was still in place. Once she was convinced she hadn't drawn any unwanted attention, Hermione swiftly entered the nearest alley off Church Lane and promptly fell to pieces.

The village was the same and yet nothing like the last time she had visited with Harry during the war. While the Order had continued to hunt down Horcruxes, the two of them had come to Godric's Hollow seeking hints and clues to the Deathly Hallows. Instead, they walked right into a trap. It took all Hermione had not to look in the direction she knew Bathilda Bagshot's former residence stood.

She blinked and she was there, dodging Nagini's fangs, falling through the window, Harry calling her name...

Hermione leaned her back against a building wall and, eyes still vigilant on the street and focused on breathing slowly.

You're not there. It's been three years. We're fine.

"Wonderful, we're speaking in the third person now…" she muttered.

"Always helped me in the past," came a deep and husky voice.

Hermione had her wand pressed to the intruder's throat within seconds.

Her magic rushed through her veins and crackled in the air between her and the wizard facing her.

"Sorry," he said, throat bobbing beneath the tip of her wand, "thought you heard me coming." To her astonishment, his lips pulled back into a lop-sided smile.

"What?" she blurted, somewhat confounded by that smile, and the green-gold eyes practically bursting with mischief behind his spectacles.

"I did call your name once or twice," the man replied with a shrug, not lowering his hands from the air.

Hermione took in everything about the man, from his well-tailored albeit slightly mussed Ministry-issue robes to the way his smile didn't hide the tension in his hazel eyes. He looked to be in his early thirties, despite the fact that a good day's worth of stubble covered a deeply sun-weathered face. Judging by the way his black hair stuck up as though he spent all his time flying, a clear idea of just who had come upon her accompanied increasing guilt.

"Well…" she cleared her throat, "I didn't hear you."

His smile faded as something like concern flashed through his bespectacled gaze, near instantly softening the underlying tension in his shoulders. "Sorry, I thought you remembered me. Christmas, last year, wasn't it? Though there wasn't much time for conversation as I recall."

Hermione shifted on the balls of her feet but she managed to slowly lower her wand and take a careful step back. "Two years," she whispered. She did remember, as it happened. Because while Harry had been forced to break into her home this past year, she had allowed him to drag her to Godric's Hollow the year before. She hadn't stayed past the pudding.

James Potter ran a sheepish hand through his messy hair in a gesture eerily similar to his son. "Oh, yeah? Sorry, memory's not what it was." He lifted his chin, solemnly adding, "Old age, I'm afraid."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and scoffed. "Unlikely."

Mr. Potter straightened and arched an eyebrow.

Hermione blushed. "I'm sorry, but how did you find me past my charms, sir?"

"Sir?" His brow furrowed but this didn't diminish the fact he was handsome.

Too handsome. Shit.

With a shake of her head, Hermione tried again. "Mr. Potter, shouldn't we continue this conversation elsewhere?" She struggled not to stammer and blunder but Sweet Circe this man was gorgeous. How did she not remember how fit Harry's dad was? She forced her gaze from his slightly parted robes and back to his face.

Eyes up top, Granger.

"Oh, I'm Mr. Potter again?" James Potter's expression shifted into something akin to horror. "Before you say another word, I absolutely insist you call me James from this moment on."

Hermione's fingers flexed on her wand and then she slipped it back into her wrist holster in a move not lost on the legendary wizard before her. "Very well…"

James leaned forward. "Very well?"

It was a supreme effort not to roll her eyes as she replied, "Very well, James."

"Very well, Hermione," he echoed with a smirk and clasped his hands together in a sudden move that startled her. "Now that's settled, are you ready for your first lesson?"

"Yes—" she replied and James turned back to the open end of the alley, ready to move until her words called him back. "I suppose I should thank you first."

"Thank me?" He stared at her, incredulous. "You shouldn't thank me yet, Hermione. In fact, if all goes well, you should be inclined to hex me before we're through."

What?

His wink sent a jolt of something hot and painful through her nerves.

Oh gods, if he did that with a wink…

Nonsense, another voice in her head answered, we just won't let him get too close.

Hermione's lips thinned, at the fact she now had two voices arguing in her head. Choosing to ignore them both, she followed James Potter out of her hiding place and back onto Church Street. His magic seemed to bounce about him energetically as he moved. She could have followed his magical signature three meters away.

Just like Harry.

Ignoring the odd shiver lacing down her spine, Hermione stepped onto the cobblestone street. James presented an arm to her expectantly.

Hermione hesitated, instantly on alert despite her attempts to talk herself down. She wasn't used to being around people anymore, she could admit this to herself. And while Harry was the exception of people she tolerated, James Potter was not his son.

He turned to look at her, raising a challenging eyebrow until Hermione pushed her irrational fears aside and accepted his arm, only to scream as he Apparated them away.

Review: If you think Hermione will hex James once they land ;)