AN: I wanted to write a little thank you to my dear friend, Tasha! I hope that some BDJ and smut will suffice to tell you how much I adore you!

This is unbeta'd and exists in an AU where Lily and James were 16 when they got pregnant with Harry. Lily has sense crossed the veil.

Hope it's a fun read and thanks for coming by!

Tags: Non-consenual drug use (nothing nefarious, just meddling Sirius Black), BD James, Smut, Fluff, Age Difference, No Voldy AU.

xXx

"Who's that?"

James brows pitched as he turned, following Sirius' open-jawed stare. The witch he was oogling had her back turned, loose curls spilling over a bare back. At the very sight of her freckled shoulders, James froze.

"Shit," he hissed, ducking behind Sirius. He was broader and taller, which meant that it accomplished absolutely bloody nothing but what else could he do? It was her.

"Ah," Sirius peeked over his shoulder with a wide grin. "Should've known. You're incredibly inappropriate—"

"She was twenty-bloody-four, Sirius."

"Wildly scandalous—"

"No one except for you knows and I'd very much appreciate—"

"One nightstand. Remind me why you're terrified of a witch the size of a tea cup?"

James' expression withered. "I'm not terrified of her. I'm just— Oh shit, did she see me?"

Sirius shook with laughter and turned for the bar. "You're a fool, James. A bloody fool."

With his exit, James was unshielded. His eyes widened as he ducked behind a pillar and smoothed the expensive material of his dress robes. Gods, he hated parties. New Year's Eve wasn't a good enough reason to wear a tie, if anyone asked him.

Hermione Granger.

It'd been a mistake, of course. Except, he never could quite get himself to believe that. It'd started innocent enough, their paths constantly crossing due to Harry and work and any number of reasons that put her in his sights. He hadn't wanted to adore the little witch but she was hard not to be enamored with. Her beauty was matched only by her insatiable wit and charm. Her laugh— Gods, her laugh— it sent a thrill of excitement racing down her spine.

But she was Harry's best friend, not to mention a good sixteen years (and some change) younger, and completely, utterly off-limits.

Then, much to his and everyone else's shock, she'd been offered a position in New York. Part of him, albeit a very small part, was relieved. She was a dangerous distraction. However, the overwhelming part of him mourned. He might never be the man on her arm, but he still wanted to be near her, to hear her laugh, and maybe be the cause of a few of them.

Her going away party had been a blur of drunkenness, as if he could force himself to forget both the witch and the accompanying feelings. The next morning, he'd woken next to her and for a brief moment, all was right in the world. He'd been sure it was a dream, but she'd stirred and smiled sleepily at him.

He could still remember the clenching of his throat as he stared at her, doused in the early morning light with wild curls and a look in her eyes that meant something he couldn't explain. He'd apologized profusely, stating madness and whisky for his indiscretion.

Then she'd left. He wasn't sure if the embarrassment or shame that kept him from ever sending an owl but he did ask after her whenever he could. Years passed and he survived on morsels of information from his son, but no matter how desperate he got, he never broke.

If she'd wanted him, she'd have said as much. And James Potter was a confident bloke. He was handsome, intelligent— rich. He had no need to go chasing down girls who—

"James? Is that you?"

The blood drained from his face as he grimaced. Bollocks.

Unfortunately, he couldn't Apparate out of the Minister's Mansion or he surely would. Straightening to full height, he fixed a serious brood on his face and then feigned surprise when he turned to see her.

"Hermione?" His voice squeaked. She laughed. Gods, how he loved her laugh. A navy blue dress hung from thin straps on her shoulders, dipping low in the back and falling off her hips. The signs of the years were minimal and somehow, it was five years ago and he was pining for a witch he shouldn't be all over again.

"I was hoping to run into you tonight," she said, her lips twitching into a smile. "How are you?"

"Brilliant," he lied, swallowing thickly. "And you? I didn't realize you were home for a visit."

"Home for good, actually. The Minister has offered me a senior position and…" she paused, staring down at her champagne flute. "It was just time to come home."

"Well," he cleared his throat, "England's better for it. I'm happy you're home."

Hermione hummed and shifted her weight from foot to foot. "I'm sorry I never owled—"

Sucking in a sharp breath, James quickly shook his head. "It's not— I just mean, don't fret on it. I couldn've picked up a quill myself but what we had that night was fun. No need to make something out of nothing." The lie tasted like vinegar on his tongue, and he didn't miss the hurt that flashed across her features.

Truthfully, he wanted to take it all back and fall at her feet with a thousand sweet nothings and promises but… he didn't. He couldn't.

"Like I said, I'm happy you're home. Excuse me." Folding his lips in a tight smile, he ducked his head and beelined for the terrace. He never should have fucking come.

He'd told Sirius in no uncertain terms that he didn't even like the bloody holiday and celebrating a New Year was the stupidest tradition he could think of but, alas, he was here. Saying no to Padfoot was like asking a brick wall to step aside.

The cold air slammed into him, stealing away the panic that had been flooding his chest. He dragged a hand through his hair, cursing to himself as he approached the banister. Sirius was right. He was a fool.

Only a handful of moments passed before he could hear the telltale clip of a sharp walk approaching. His shoulders dropped and he groaned up at the night sky.

"Hermione, I—"

"It's not Hermione, you idiot." Sirius. Of course, it was Sirius.

"I'm in a foul mood," he warned. Luckily Sirius came bearing gifts in the form of a double firewhisky which James quickly snatched. "I shouldn't have come."

"It's fine to fancy the bird, Prongs. You're being overdramatic— as usual."

James scoffed. "No, it's not fine. She's—"

"She's a good match for you. And you know that Harry only wants you to be happy. Save your melodrama, mate. It's wasted on me."

Sirius clapped a hand on James' shoulder and took a small drink of his own drink. "I've seen you fuck up many a good thing because you don't believe you deserve happiness after Lily—"

James' jaw snapped shut, and he stared out at the inky black horizon as though it'd personally offended him.

"You do, though. You deserve to be happy. Now," Sirius said brightly, his signature, mischievous grin returning, "I saw a witch who looked like my next girlfriend and I can't waste any more time on you crying."

Rolling his eyes, James playfully shoved him off. "Get out of here."

James remained, drinking slowly. It took all of five minutes for cold, unforgiving dread to fill his belly.

"Sirius-fucking-Black," he bit out and turned on his heel.

This was now the third time in his life that James had been drugged by the git. Veritaserum seemed to be the poison of choice and while the other two times it'd only gotten him detention with Flitwick and a black eye from some arse in Auror training, this time the stakes were far higher.

He needed to get the fuck out of here and possibly punch his best friend on the way out. But, seeing that he was nowhere in sight, and Hermione Granger might pop up at any given moment, he thought it best to scurry away like the cowardly lion he was.

Thankfully, he made it to the Floo's without speaking a word. He signed in relief as the green flames flashed around him and when he stepped into the sitting room of Potter Hall, he nearly wretched.

"Fucking hell," he whined, eyes settling on the form of one Hermione Granger sitting on his sofa. "Is this a dream?"

With a long breath, Hermione rose to her feet and crossed her arms. "Sirius shoved me into a Floo and insisted I wait here. He said you wanted to apologize and explain something. Though if you're going to reiterate your earlier sentiments, I think I ought to just go."

James mashed his lips together, trying in vain to keep the words inside him by sheer force of will.

She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Do you want me to go?"

There it was. The inevitable. The truth bubbled up his throat and shoved its way into existence. "No, of course not. I never want you to leave."

James clapped his hands over his mouth and clenched his eyelids shut. Shit.

"Then why am I here?"

He was at the mercy of the potion now. His hands fell lamely at his side and he just… said it. "Because Sirius is a meddler and he wants to make me happy."

"And so he lied to me for what purpose?"

Sighing, James walked to his armchair and fell into it dejectedly. "Because he knows you make me happy and that I was about to fuck everything up. I'm not supposed to want you, but I do. He just thought he was helping… I'm sorry."

"Why aren't you supposed to want me?"

"Because I don't deserve you," he confessed, rolling his eyes. "And you're young— very young."

"I'm twenty-nine," she deadpanned.

"I'm forty-five, Hermione. You're best friends with my son. There is no shortage of things wrong with this."

"I—" she paused, eyes fluttering closed. "I don't understand what's going on. I'm here to hear why the man of my dreams doesn't think we can make it work? What kind of twisted—"

James choked. "The what?"

"Obviously, I'm mad over you! I have been since I was old enough to notice you were more than just my friend's dad."

"Then why did you leave?" he balked. "You said—"

"What else was I supposed to say?" A tear fell down her cheek. "I had a job and you weren't making any declarations that morning that made me think there was another option. I picked up the leftovers of my pride and left. I wrote you a dozen letters and burned each one before I could make it to the owlery and when you didn't write either, I just assumed you hadn't changed your mind."

A laugh rumbled in his chest and he sat back, dragging a hand down his face. "We're a pair of idiots. You know that?"

Her brow arched disdainfully, inviting him to elaborate.

The truth spilled out. "I've fancied you longer than I would care to admit, Hermione. When Lily died, I just assumed it was the end of it. But then you happened and— I don't know. I couldn't wrap my head around it, around how we could ever make this work and I'm an idiot and a coward and I can't fucking believe I let you leave."

More tears fell from her cheeks and she sniffed and wiped them away. "And now? Would it be easier if I just left?"

"Easier?" he laughed. "Yes. It would be easier. But it's not what I want, not even a little bit. I want you. All of you."

"Even if it's hard?"

He smirked, still a little nervous that she might shatter him. "Even if it's hard."

Hermione gnawed on her cheek as she silently considered what he'd said. Finally, she straightened her spine and leveled him with a serious stare. "Then what are you waiting for?"

"Sorry?"

"Get over here and prove it." The tears on her cheeks had dried and that sparkle had returned to her eye.

James didn't wait to be told twice; he bounded across the room and took her in his arms. She felt like coming home and he'd be content to just hold her the rest of the night if she'd let him. But her lips sought out his and the world as he knew it ceased to exist.

Here, from this moment, nothing would ever be the same. Not when she kissed him like that, like he was the beginning and the end, and how on earth had he gone all these years not kissing her. It was familiar and foreign, an unearthed memory that stirred the lingering cobwebs around his heart.

Her tongue swept the curve of his bottom lip and he, horrifyingly, groaned. His lips parted, their tongues tangling and dancing as his hands rememorized the curve of her spine the feeling of her arse in his grip.

The kiss turned heated, desperate for more. She moaned when he pushed his erection into her belly while pulling her closer. Hastily, she shoved his robes from his shoulders and before he could shrug it off she was pulling on the knot of his tie.

"Do you want to go to your room?" she breathed as he assaulted her neck with bruising kisses.

Again, the truth demanded to be spoken. "No, I want to fuck you right here and then go to my room and fuck you again. I want to spend the rest of my life between your thighs and never let you go."

Hermione's fingers dug into his shoulders as she gasped.

"I should warn you that Sirius spiked my whisky with Vertiaserum. I've no control over what is said for at least the next hour."

"I don't care," she managed as her small fingers found the opening of his oxford and yanked, buttons clattering to the floor. "Just make good on that promise and fuck me, James. It's been too long."

Growling, he ripped the back of her dress and let it pool on the floor. "Fuck, you're just as perfect as I remember you." He sank to his feet, kissing a trail down the valley of her breasts and to her belly button.

"Well, there is slightly more of me than there was five years ago and—" A moan cut her short.

James dragged his tongue along her clit, his fingers inching up her thigh as his free hand gripped her thigh. There was more. Delightfully more.

Her hands came down on the top of his head, steadying herself by threading through his brown locks as he devoured her. He pushed one finger slowly inside her, relishing in the pleasured noises mewling over him.

Another finger joined the first and she widened her stance. In a single movement, he threw one of her legs over her shoulder, bracing her with his hands on her arse as he lifted her and lifted the other to rest the same way.

She yelped slightly he pulled her cunt towards his face and pushed his tongue inside her. He shuffled on his knees and then laid her down on the sofa, keeping her legs tucked high as he fucked her with his mouth and hands.

He was at risk of coming in his pants if he didn't get his cock some attention soon but he wanted to taste her when she came. Wanted to feel every flutter of her cunt as he drained her pleasure from her.

"James," she pleaded, her thighs tightening just so around his ears.

"Come for me, love." He pressed a kiss to her clit. "As soon as you do I'm going to fuck you into this mattress to make up for the last five years."

She whined, her sex closing around his fingers as he sucked hard on her clit. God, she was everything. And she was his.

As soon as her orgasm waned, he positioned himself between her thighs, yanking at his belt. Staring down at her, sated and breathless and smiling, he couldn't help but want to eat his previous words. He wanted to savor this— savor her.

But there would be time for that later when his cock wasn't going to explode. He fisted the base of it, pumping slowly as he watched her eyes widen.

"Was," she paused, swallowing. "Was it that big before?"

Smirking, he dragged his hand to the tip and then back again. "Yes, and you took every inch of it beautifully before." His free hand played lazily with her nipple and she arched into the touch. "Are you ready?"

"Gods, yes." Hermione bit into her bottom lip.

James dragged his engorged tip up her slit, shuddering at the sensation. Holding himself back while she adjusted to him was going to be a test of patience and he steeled his resolve as he sank inside her.

She was heaven, like the space inside her was designed for him. Her jaw fell open as he pushed forward gently and he squeezed her nipple. "That's a good girl," he cooed. "My perfect girl. You take my cock so fucking well, love. A little more, okay?"

The dent in her lip might be permanent she was biting it so hard, but she nodded her consent. He nearly choked as he bottomed out, his free hand coming up to squeeze her hip as he settled inside her.

"That's it, love. How's that feel?"

Her eyes snapped open, her pupils blown wide. "Just fuck me, James. Please. I need you."

"Tell me if it's too much." He fell over her, hitching her knee over his hip. "Cause until you do, I'm going to fucking ravage you."

She moaned, and he could feel her hips widening for him. He pulled out, teasing her slit before rolling his hips into her, filling her with a swift motion. She cried out, pleasure and shock mixed together. He waited, giving her a chance but her nails just dragged down his back, spurning him on.

He lost himself, driving into her with blind abandon. Their breaths and noises echoed in the room as he pushed himself towards release. She praised him nonsensically, words flowing from her lips like a spring.

"More," she whimpered. "I can take more."

He growled as he drove into her, pressure building low in his belly before snapping like a cord pulled too tight. His vision darkened as he emptied inside her, his body stilling and fingers digging into her flesh.

"Never leave again," he managed between broken breaths. "I want you to stay forever." He sagged on top of her, feeling her chest rumble with a quiet chuckle.

"I'll need to get a change of clothes since you destroyed my only garment. But, I wasn't lying when I said I was mad over you, James. I'll stay as long as you'll have me."

He smiled in the crook of her neck and the grandfather clock in the corner chimed midnight and a new year. He pressed a kiss to her lips, lingering a moment before saying against her lips, "Forever, then."