FALLING SLOWLY X: I Always Will

She woke midway through the night to the press of soft kisses down her spine as James whispered, "I love you."

He slid into her as she turned her head to catch his mouth with more kisses. His hand slipped around her hips and moved between her lower lips, bringing them both to completion after long, languid thrusts.

Later, with the sunlight pouring through the gauzy curtains, she woke him with, "I love you," before pressing her mouth to his chest, just above his heart.

James drew in a sharp breath as he lifted his head from the pillow and tangled a hand in her curls, answering her ready smile with a wet laugh. If his eyes gleamed a bit too brightly, Hermione pretended not to notice, only allowed him to roll her onto her back before he covered her with his love.

They didn't quite fit into Hermione's shower and laughed as they struggled to get one another clean. Her hair was the worst, of course. She hadn't planned to get it wet until James discovered he could remove the showerhead and promptly attached her in her most sensitive spots. The bathroom required several drying charms after that, and James insisted on braiding her curls after she blamed him for what the mess of what would undoubtedly frizz in her haste to reach the Ministry.

"How did you learn to do this?" she asked.

"Padfoot's always had long hair," he'd quipped with a smirk, then confessed, softly, "Lily taught me."

Hermione bit back tears at the thought of Harry's mum, and the woman James Potter had been unable to move past.

Until me.

She didn't tell him, and she didn't plan on ever telling him, that Lily was part of the reason Hermione had been so afraid to love him. James Potter had already had his epic love, one of the most romantic and heartbreaking stories she'd heard. To be the first person he came to love in twenty years was...heady and terrifying in spades.

But she didn't doubt he loved her, miraculously and perhaps too much, too quickly.

Sirius once told Hermione that James and Lily had fallen together slowly, and this is why he believed his best friend was so slow to fall out of love, even after the Witch was gone.

Hermione wondered now if she'd been in love with the idea of James Potter all her life.

James offered to make breakfast, but Hermione was too nervous to eat. She laughed as he used magic to make eggs on toast with jam anyways. It was delicious, and she might have teared up again at the kitchen table. James pretended not to notice.

"You want to what?" she asked later as she placed her shrunken broom into her beaded satchel and prepared to floo to her appointment.

James reeled her in with a steady hand at her lower back and kissed her forehead. "Why shouldn't we fly together? I think I proved last night I'm an excellent flyer."

Hermione slapped him on the shoulder. "Yes! And you looked ready to kill over by the time you broke in! By the way, what did you do to my wards?" She narrowed her eyes as she waved her wand to inspect his spellwork.

"Um...let's leave now, and I solemnly swear, I'll get us there in time," James diverted with an arch of his handsome brow.

Hermione rolled her eyes before sighing. "My hair is in a braid at least… Hang on, let me pull these off." She fiddled with her trainer and paused at the widening smile on her boyfriend's face (or so he'd begun to call himself after their shower, anyway.) "What?"

"Nothing." He shook his head but seemed even happier as she shrunk her shoes and placed them in her beaded bag for safekeeping. "Just pleased to see my lessons really rubbed off on you."

Hermione snorted. "I am not copying your bad habit of flying shoeless across the county, James Potter. This is for practicality."

James laughed as he seated his broom and winked before helping her climb after him. "Hold on tight, sweetheart. We're going to loosen your nerves a bit first."

Hermione frowned as she slipped her arms around his waist. "What are you...James!" She screamed as he lifted off.

They rose too fast, too high in the air until her cottage faded, and the world blurred beneath them.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and clung to James for dear life. But then she felt the comforting wash of his magic brush over her, disillusioning them. She opened first one eye, then the other, and slowly relaxed as they burst through a low cloud. James's chest shook as he laughed, and dove several meters lower, increasing his speed.

She felt the impulse to give in to her fear, into the panic that may never completely leave her after her accident. But all she felt was James surrounding her, and that even more frightening bubble of happiness well up within her chest, bringing a smile to her face.

And she no longer felt afraid.

They reached the Ministry just in time, just as James had promised. Hermione was slightly perplexed and curious about his broom and what he had done to make such a feat possible. But she had little time to think as James insisted on escorting her all the way to her appointment with the Ministry instructor. They walked along the atrium to the proper lift she'd need to take next.

The echo of their feet sounded strange. She wasn't used to coming here with so few people, but it was also nice to come to work wearing casual clothes instead of regulated dress robes. And it was also nice to have James Potter at her side, holding her hand and keeping up a steady chatter as they entered the lift alone.

He wagged his eyebrows at her suggestively once they entered and grabbed hold of the handles. James kept one arm snug about her waist. "What would we do if the lift suddenly broke down, do you think?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Did Harry make you watch Die Hard again or something?"

James laughed and kissed her as the lift moved.

They reached the floor she needed, and Hermione's heart reached her throat. James squeezed her waist and coaxed her to let go and walk out with him. "Come on, sweetheart, almost there and almost done. You're gonna ace it."

Hermione frowned as she took his hand again and walked with him down the hall. A few other Ministry workers in her department were just ahead. The feeling she'd had since waking, the one she'd been battling with much longer before if she was honest, came back with the full slam of a bludger. She pulled James to a stop.

"Hermione? What's wrong, love?" James paused, then came to stand before her, drawing her chin up to meet his loving concern. He studied her face as she studied his. "Are you...is this what you really want?"

She sucked a sharp breath through her teeth and closed her eyes. "No."

James ran his hands gently over either side of her head and she couldn't help opening her eyes to find him closer than before, a faint smile playing at his lips. "Then let's go."

"What?" Hermione caught his arms. "Just like that?"

James shrugged. "I told you I'd be happy to pose as a Muggle student if that's what you prefer."

Hermione scoffed and pushed back from his embrace. James's hand slipped to her waist, unable or unwilling to let her go. "How can you say that after you took off work to give me flying lessons? After all that, you're fine with me not going through with this?"

James ran a hand over his newly cleanshaven cheek and glanced off to the side. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but...well, I may actually have a better option in mind, if you're interested." He took in the hall around them and mumbled a spell under his breath before the air thickened with a disillusionment charm, unlike anything Hermione had ever seen.

"James? What was that? Wait, the people that were ahead of us are moving slower." She blinked rapidly and then jerked her head to look her boyfriend over. No time turner, so what...

"I'm an Unspeakable, love."

"Oh." She took him in again, the way he held his hands freely at his sides in his Muggle tee and jeans and the trainers she had made for him herself with a bit of transfiguration that morning. And in a rush, she thought over all the odd explanations Harry had given through the years. The many trips his father had to take, the time they rushed to the Department of Mysteries, and Harry had known exactly where the prophecy room was. Or the way James had used magic in ways she'd never seen or felt before. Her hand caught at her throat as she found his soft intent gaze waiting for her attention.

"Yeah," he said with a growing smile. He pushed a stray curl back from her forehead and chuckled as it persisted springing back into place.

"What exactly do you do for the department?" she asked in a still small voice.

"Not nearly so much these days. I'm partially retired since the last war," he said with another shrug. "Now I mostly consult for them, and the Ministry, in turn, lets me experiment however I fancy."

"And me? Y-you said something about a different option for me?" She stuttered as he wrapped his arms around her and tilted his head. He was so ridiculously handsome, she hated that she could be so easily distracted by him like this.

"Come play with me, love," he said, with added heat to his gaze.

Hermione tapped his chest. "Play with magic with a Marauder?" she deadpanned. "That doesn't sound frightening."

James jostled her slightly as he urged her closer. "See, that's what would be brilliant about it! You could work independently, aid me in my research, invent spells, challenge the very nature of what we've been taught magic can do... And if you want to go to Muggle University while we do that, why not?"

"James Potter, we're responsible adults. We can't just do whatever we want," she sputtered, but a strangely giddy feeling filled her in answer to his enthusiasm. "And besides, I can't just agree to something like this without knowing exactly what I'm getting myself into," she pressed.

He kissed her, effectively silencing her protests. "Come and see my workshop at home, or come with me and meet Gerrold. He's head of the Department and would probably happily commit any number of crimes if he knew Hermione Granger was interested in aiding our efforts." He winked and Hermione rolled her eyes.

She glanced down the hall to find the other Witch and Wizards had barely made it a meter farther down since they'd begun talking. "Let's go home, first," she found herself saying, then squealing as James lifted her off her feet and spun them in circles with a happy shout.

Of course, she said yes in the end. James Potter had the very dangerous gift of making her nearly unable to tell him no, she came to find. Only when she was convinced they needed more trials, more tests with certain spells and potions when James would rather jump happily head-first, then he learned how firm in her convictions she could be.

"I just got you, and I'm not about to lose you because of your stupid big head not thinking this through!"

There were days when their workshop was just too small, and James insisted on traveling to places where magic converged on a larger scale for certain experiments. This led them to ley lines and lunar and solar events across the country, and occasionally the world. There were days when she wanted to smack sense into him, or she drove him mad with her reliance on logic and scientific method. Both occasions always ended with them snogging or shagging. They could never stay angry at one another for long. It was both the most intense and easiest relationship either one of them had shared with another soul.

"Marry me," he asked her one memorable night waiting for the lunar eclipse atop a mountain with snow dusting their heads.

"James, the altitude is clearly getting to your head. Now would you please give me some room so I can concentrate on this spell?"

He laughed, and barely moved his hand before his half of the spell activated the convergence they stood upon, their bodies suddenly flush and infused with a heady rush of magic.

He had a way of making magic look easy when Hermione was constantly looking for the mechanics behind the magic. Much as he liked to tease her for it, James would later tell her that her reasoning only made their combined research and experiments stronger. And then there were days when she admitted there wasn't always an explanation. That sometimes, it came down to the first lesson he taught her. Sometimes, magic was about feeling, about trust.

"Marry me," he crooned against her ear as they danced together in the backyard of Potter Manor. The floor was charmed to look like stars, and the tent billowed on a gentle spring wind as the musicians continued to play.

"You're only asking me because we're literally at a wedding." Hermione snorted and glanced over to the happy bride and groom, not two meters away. Luna looked lovely and ethereal in her gauzy pink and white dress, and Harry hadn't stopped beaming with happiness all evening.

While nearly everyone outside their small social circle had been shocked at the news of James and Hermione, Luna and Harry had not only been overjoyed (and relieved) but their most outspoken supporters. Not that Hermione ever knew what other people said. She had avoided newspapers and magazines outside Muggle publications for years, and the Marauders were forever relieved she would never know what the likes of Rita Skeeter wrote about "Golddigging Granger."

"Suppose you're right." James hummed in the back of his throat, then shifted his feet and surprised her with a sudden dip.

He laughed as she gasped and narrowed her eyes at him. They'd been together as a couple for over four years, but he loved surprising her. He didn't tell her that each time he'd asked her to marry him (five by this count) he wasn't just testing the waters or teasing. The ring he'd held onto for years, the one he'd made himself, after altering the one he found in his vault, burned a hole through his pocket.

As Hermione settled back into his arms and James caught her gaze, he made sure to wink before saying, "You do look good enough to eat in this dress, though, sweetheart. You can't blame a bloke for trying."

She never knew how serious James was until, well, Sirius spelled it out for her seven months later.

They were celebrating Yule at Potter Manor this year. Remus had already taken Tonks and Teddy home, and Andy and Ted Sr. were saying goodbye to James and Harry via the floo. An obviously pregnant Luna was humming to herself by the tree while sipping on a hot chocolate.

Hermione wiggled her fingers for the cup Sirius Black brought to her at the other end of the family parlor. There were days she still couldn't believe she lived here, in a house that had parlors and drawing rooms and grand staircases.

"There you are, Kitten," Sirius said with a smirk before settling onto the lounge beside her.

She sighed into her cup. "Gods, Sirius, this is brilliant."

In the near-distance, they could hear James calling, "See you for New Year's!" A sudden bang and POP broke the peace soon after, followed by Harry's laughter, and James's growl of, "Harry James Potter!" before the pounding of their feet could be heard echoing throughout the manor.

Luna giggled to herself but seemed quite content to listen and wait.

Sirius rubbed the head of Crookshanks who had immediately plopped into his lap, the bloody traitor. "So, Kitten, now that I've got you all to myself..." He wagged his eyebrows at her.

Hermione rolled her eyes, hiding her smile behind her cup.

"Tell me, when are you gonna put our poor boy Prongs out of his misery?"

She choked on her coca and blinked past tears as she swallowed the hot liquid. "What?"

Sirius leaned closer to her along the back of the couch and narrowed his gray gaze as he said, "You know what. Prongs has asked you, what, twelve times now?"

Hermione pressed a hand to her throat as she coughed a laugh. "Not twelve, don't be ridiculous."

"Actually, I'm being quite..."

"Don't say it!" she pressed her hand to his mouth before he finished with a muffled, "Sirius."

Hermione sank back into the couch with a groan and grumbled into her cup. "It's only been six times, and I know for a fact he's just teasing me."

Sirius shifted even closer to speak low. "You sure about that, kitten? You know I love you, we all do, but you aren't always the most perceptive Witch."

"Excuse me, I am very perceptive, thank you," she blurted, swatting his hand away as he tugged on a loose curl.

Sirius straightened with a chuckle. "If you really believe that, ask Prongs if he was joking. I dare you."

Hermione didn't ask James that night, as Sirius insisted. But she caught herself watching him more closely than she had been of late. The fire between them, the insatiable need she always felt every time they touched, hadn't begun to dim in the least, of course. But she was certainly guilty of becoming lost in their work, in Arithmantic equations and writing out the theory behind James's intuitive brilliance.

In the days leading up to the planned family New Year's party, Hermione noticed several things she had neglected to before.

1. James was not nearly so invested in their current experiment on the use of blood magic as a practical tool for creating wards.

2. Her boyfriend seemed, in fact, increasingly agitated as the days wore on. But his moods would shift just as quickly into despondence or nervousness.

3. Their lovemaking had increased in frequency from at least once per day, to at least three times, much to her happy chagrin.

While Hermione would have loved to bring them back to task, she couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't all related. And if they were so happily content together (she'd given Harry and Luna her cottage for a starter home, for Merlin's sake) then why did he kiss her as though he was afraid to lose her?

It wasn't until the next evening, as Sirius, Remus, and Harry drunkenly sang together while Ted Tonks attempted to play Auld Lang Syne on the piano, that everything became clear.

"Get some air and stars with me, sweetheart?" James whispered in her ear while dragging a hand across her hip.

Hermione shivered and happily accepted his hand as they left the ongoing celebration. Twenty minutes to midnight, she noted with a quick glance at the clock on the mantle.

James led her to the snow-dusted swing beneath an old oak tree. She barely felt him cast a warming charm before the swing was cleared and she climbed into his lap. The gentle sway combined with her third glass of firewhisky led her to easily melt in his embrace.

James hummed along with the distant piano while keeping one hand on a rope and the other around her waist as she tucked her head under his chin.

The blanket of stars above seemed so much closer and she marveled, not for the first time, how incredibly lucky she was. She wasn't usually the first to wax poetic, but found herself muttering against his neck anyway. "So bloody lucky to have you, James."

She smiled as his soothing hum stopped. "I never thought I'd find anyone to love again, and certainly not you." She giggled at what her teenaged self would have thought of all this.

"And why not?" His nose brushed against her curls while his hand followed the dip in her hip and brushed over her breast.

She gasped but her smile didn't fade as she said, "I've been half in love with you since I was a child, you nutter." She pulled back to meet his enigmatic eye and pressed a chilled hand to his warm cheek. "Did I ever tell you I noticed you at Bill's wedding? I mean, how could I not? I saw you come in with Sirius and I was so nervous because I wanted to ask you to dance. I told myself," her smile faded as she continued at a whisper, "I told myself we were leaving to hunt for Horcruxes, and I didn't know if I'd see you again. I thought I was in love with Ron, but I just wanted to dance with you."

His eyes gleamed behind his spectacles, gold-flecked green, the most handsome man she'd ever known, and somehow he was hers.

The drunken countdown had begun inside, but James caught her before she could stand and walk away.

"James?" She carded a hand through his hair and moaned as he surged to claim her mouth in a searing kiss.

"I love you," he moaned between kisses, "gods, I love you so much."

The skies above them exploded in pops of color as the party indoors had emerged outside. They were close enough to see James and Hermione but far used to catching them in more compromising positions, to her eternal embarrassment.

Somehow, she didn't mind so much then, as James trailed kisses along her jaw and whispered against her ear, "Marry me, sweetheart."

The fizz and pop of magical fireworks around them seemed to fade into the background as Hermione leaned back and studied his awed expression. Color and light reflected off the lenses of his spectacles, but his eyes still shone brighter as his magic brushed against hers. "Do you mean it?"

"Hermione…" The half smile on his face fell.

She clasped his face between both hands and rested her forehead against his. "Did you mean it all those times, James? Do you want to marry me?"

James's gaze shifted to something darker and heavier. His smile nearly split his face in two as he lowered his hand between them and opened his palm. "Well, all right, since you asked me so nicely."

"James Merlin Potter!" He laughed as she shoved him, nearly upending them off the swing. And then she caught sight of the amber and diamond ring in his palm. "Oh, Merlin, you did mean it!"

"Supposing that's a yes then, Miss Granger?"

"That'll soon be Mrs. Potter to you," she quipped.

James kissed her lips and laughed again at the nearby exclamations from Harry and Sirius: "Well it's about bloody time!" and "What did she say?"

James was still laughing as she snatched up the ring and slipped it onto her left ring finger. "Yes!" she called over to their nosy family.

"Will you start calling Harry your son, now?" James crooned. "Please say you will, love. I can't wait to see the look on his face."

Hermione grinned as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Shut it, you."

"Love you, too," he managed before she kissed him.

Neither were convinced they'd ever come this close to perfection again.

They were both wrong of course.

Between marriage and magic…

Children and a century of perfection between them…

Hermione was never so happy to be proven wrong.

Review: And we are finally here, friends! While I would love to actually complete stories in the year I start them, I do believe some stories are better when written at the right time. I've adored writing Falling Slowly and this incarnation of our favorite characters. But I've most enjoyed sharing it with each of you. Thank you for making every chapter and every rewrite I made worth it. Much love and virtual hugs to you all. I'll see you next at A Darkly Slanted Mirror! Happy reading 💜