A/N: Thank you to my lovely Beta, lozipozivanillabean. Enjoy!

xxxxv.

you're the universe i'm helpless in

(Venus by Sleeping at Last)

October 10, 1979

Anya politely excused herself and left the two wizards alone.

James threw a terrified glance at her retreating back, before hesitantly glancing at Peter. He had his back turned away from him, that ridiculous worn apron the Pettigrews loved to wear so much tied around his waist. Peter hadn't said a word ever since his confession and instead, had focused all of his might on washing the dishes. From the way he was handling the plates, however, James knew he would drop one soon.

He allowed the uncomfortable silence to stretch out long and tense. James wasn't sure if he was permitted to break it. One thing he'd learned after being best mates with Peter was that he should steer clear from him when he was in one of his foul moods. He might not resort to Bat-Bogey Hexes like his sister, but Peter still had the infamous Selwyn temper. His glares were enough to scare anyone away.

But, he'd been mulling over this for weeks. Hell, months even! After everything that had happened, especially with Hermione's revelation, his resolve had grown stronger and stronger each day, until he'd had no choice but to act on it. Dumbledore had been ominously warning them that they were already at the height of war and must prepare for the worse. Hermione's last horcrux hunt was his wake-up call and James had owled Peter and Anya asking to talk. He didn't have any hesitations anymore.

"Peter," James called, steeling whatever Gryffindor courage he had. "Come on, mate. Say something."

His hazel eyes grew wide behind his glasses when Peter shoved the fragile plate onto the rack, ignoring completely how it shattered with the impact. Times like this, he wished Peter wasn't related to two terrifying witches. He really liked Peter the most when he just agreed to everything he said.

"What do you want me to bloody say?" Peter grumbled, his back still facing away from James. His shoulders were tense and James could see that a vein had popped on one of his temples. His Auror-trained reflexes heightened in alarm and although he highly doubted Peter would resort to hexing him, James still pulled out his wand underneath the table in case he needed to defend himself.

"Your mother already gave her blessing," he deliberately started. "So, I guess voicing out your blessing too will suffice."

"Why?"

James furrowed his brows when Peter whipped around fast. His face looked pinched, a mixture of anger and pained resignation etched on his pale face. James sighed, "Why what?"

"Why now?" Peter added, angrily whipping his wand from his trousers. James instinctively raised his wand, ready for combat, but Peter merely slashed his wand to Reparo the broken plate. The sandy-haired wizard warily eyed James's wand, and the Potter heir reluctantly lowered his hand.

"Why not now?" James replied, trying to lighten up the tense atmosphere with his ridiculous quip. But Peter's eyes had turned into thinner slits, obviously unimpressed by his joke.

Knowing that Peter wouldn't budge, James expelled a soft sigh and seriously looked at this wizard, who he considered his brother in everything but blood. "Because, we are at war," he simply explained. "And as much as we don't like it, Hermione's the most involved in all this bloody shite because of her past and her knowledge and—" He thickly swallowed as fear gripped his heart once more. He'd been accustomed to this feeling ever since they'd Apparated into his bedroom in the middle of the night, dripping wet and obviously shaken. Still, try as he might, he couldn't dispel his fear. "The future is uncertain, Wormy."

A fraction of tension left his posture as Peter slumped forward, his forehead now creased with worry and doubt. "We've already found all five horcruxes, James," he pointed out. "And we've destroyed one. The future may be uncertain, but it's most definitely on our side."

"You don't know that," James said as a wry smile grew on his face. "Anything can happen in war."

"You speak like you've been through one before."

"We are in one," James reminded him. "And… and don't you see Hermione's eyes? How they always speak of endless horrors and grief that no eighteen-year-old should be burdened with? I'm sure Hermione Granger once upon a time thought they'd be able to win their own war but, here she is now, born as a different person in the hopes of running away from all the turmoil she'd experienced before."

Peter worriedly nipped his bottom lip and plopped down on the chair opposite James. "And you think doing this will make everything better?" he incredulously asked.

James gave him a meaningful stare. "Why? Don't tell me you've never thought about doing this with Mary," he said. When Peter turned light pink, he smiled. "There you have it."

"But we've decided it'd be best if we do it after her Healer training," Peter explained. "Which will be years from now."

"Hermione's different," James said with a tired, heavy sigh, now frowning deeply at the tabletop. "Like I said, she's the most involved of us all. I worry about her constantly and I thought, perhaps it would be best if I always stayed by her side."

"And you're not doing that right now?"

James dryly laughed and glanced back at Peter. "I am, but… but if things turn for the worse in this bloody war, might as well spend a few blissful months with her and fight alongside her."

Peter started rubbing the bridge of his nose, clear resignation on his face. "There's no stopping you now, is there?" he grumbled.

"I'd still love to have your blessing because she's your sister and Merlin, you're truly terrifying if you want to be, Peter. Do you know that?" He grinned when Peter shot him a light glare. "But to answer your question: yes, there's no stopping me. I've already made up my mind to spend the rest of my days with Hermione as long as I live and breathe. My parents bloody invited your family to a Pureblood dinner because they have known my intentions ever since we started dating. And maybe, maybe I'm being a tad selfish here, trying to steal Hermione away from you and Anya, but after seeing Lily's wedding with Snape I thought… I thought…" He faltered as his cheeks turned red and a silly smile grew on his face. "I want that for myself too."

The wizard opposite him glanced at the ceiling and expelled a very tired sigh. "Fine," he breathed out. "Fine. Do whatever you want. But know this, James Potter, if you hurt my sister—"

"I won't," James hastily replied, his smile now a blinding, full-blown grin on his face. "Marauder's honour."

October 17, 1979

"Are we expecting a visitor?"

Lily suppressed a smile on her face as she turned to her husband, trying to look as innocent as possible. "A visitor?" she smoothly asked. "What made you ask, oh darling of mine?"

Sev wrinkled his nose at her term of endearment, prompting her lips to twitch in amusement. "Because you're baking treacle tarts and no one in this house is very fond of them," he accused, glaring at the innocent treats sitting on their table.

She smiled at his conclusion and strode towards him. "Promise to be good today, Sev," she seriously said, a hint of warning in the tone of her voice. "I know this will be very uncomfortable for you but please, for the love of Merlin, just be nice today."

He'd grown very suspicious, his dark eyes narrowed into thin slits. "Who did you invite?" he growled.

"I didn't invite him," she quickly corrected. "He asked to meet us."

As if on cue, loud knocks from their main door reached their ears. Lily walked out of their small kitchen to open the door. A very uncomfortable James Potter stood on the other side, looking strangely impeccable for a casual home visit.

"Evans, hello," he nervously greeted.

"Not an Evans anymore, just so you know," she said. James merely shrugged, one corner of his lips lifting into a smirk. Lily stepped aside to give enough space for him to enter. "Come inside, Potter."

James murmured his thanks and tentatively walked inside the house. She watched in amusement as he awkwardly scanned their quaint, little house, most likely comparing it with his grand Manor. The Snape's house was as big as their foyer and Drawing Room combined, and it might be awfully cramped for a rich, Pureblood heir like Potter. But he immediately dispelled his momentary shock, hazel eyes now wide with nervousness alone.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

Lily rolled her eyes and looked at her bewildered husband. James knitted his eyebrows and glanced down at Lily. "You didn't tell him I was coming?" he asked.

She smiled and shook her head. "I wanted to surprise him because I was sure he wouldn't agree if I told him you wanted to visit," she explained.

"Like hell I would!" Sev angrily snarled. Lily quickly strode towards Sev to clutch his hand and mollify him.

"I've prepared treacle tarts," the redhead pleasantly said, her hold on Sev's hand tightening when the sourpuss started to growl. "Hermione said they're your most favourite treats."

James awkwardly fixed his collar. "Err, thanks," he said, trailing behind Lily and Sev when she led them to their small kitchen. Lily wordlessly pointed for him to sit on a chair, which he did. Potter by now, was nervously running a hand through his hair, the messy mop on his head now sticking up in various directions.

Lily sat Sev beside her, her emerald eyes unwilling to stray away from James. The bespectacled Auror chose that moment to help himself to a heap of treacle tart just to do something with his hands, but he couldn't bring himself to take a bite.

She waited for Potter to speak first, finding it highly amusing that her stare was ruffling his feathers. He'd always been a pompous, little shite, so full of himself and bloody cocksure most of the time. She wondered what had made him mighty nervous today, and not to mention why he'd reached out to Lily to ask if he could talk to her and Sev.

"Aren't you going to ask why I'm even here?" James blurted out, already getting flustered from the thick silence blanketing their small kitchen.

Lily placed her chin on top of her upturned palm. "I figured you were still trying to collect your composure, Potter," she said, smirking a bit when he flushed red. "So please, by all means, take your time. We have all the time in the world."

"No we don't," Sev curtly replied while James snorted in bemusement, matching Lily's smirk.

"I wanted to visit you both because you're Hermione's closest friends," he slowly started. "I want to get your blessing."

"Blessing?" Lily echoed, quirking an eyebrow. "What for?"

James took a deep, shuddering breath as a small, silly smile appeared on his face. "I'm thinking of asking Hermione to marry me," he revealed.

Comically, both of their eyes widened in shock. "What? That's brilliant!" Lily exclaimed. She'd always suspected that Potter was leaning towards that direction. Blimey, the way his eyes always lit up when Hermione was in the room with him already spoke volumes about how deep his feelings for the brunette ran.

"Why are you asking for our blessing?" Sev sniped. "Shouldn't you get that from Hermione's family instead?"

James's face turned splotchy red as a sheepish smile bloomed on his face. "Anya and Peter have already given their blessings," he explained. "And – well - you see, according to Pureblood etiquette and tradition, the heir must also ask the blessing of his intended's closest friends. Something about bringing infinite luck to marriage and shite."

"Well, who knew James Potter was a stickler for bloody rules when he was such a staunch supporter of breaking them back at Hogwarts." Sev sneered.

The bespectacled wizard glowered. "If I'm going to marry Hermione, I might as well do it the proper way," he ground out.

"Hermione wouldn't care for such things, you know," Lily piped in. "If she wants to marry you, she wouldn't care what our opinion was, especially if it was against hers."

"I know that," James snapped in annoyance. "But my Mum's going to go ballistic if she finds out I didn't get your blessings. So please, for the sake of my bloody sanity, just say that you're giving your blessings."

Lily wanted to torment this ridiculous man further. He'd been such an utter toerag during their Hogwarts years after all. But there was something about his expression, how his hazel eyes were steely with determination, and how his lips were pursed into a thin line, that almost blew Lily away. She thought she would be immune to James Potter's change of attitude, but seeing him so utterly serious was a delightful exception.

"Of course I'm going to give my blessing," Lily said, laughing when James comically breathed out a sigh of relief. "You've treated Hermione well for years. I can see that she's happiest when she's with you. I still think this Pureblood rule is ridiculous, but if it means my best friend will be happy, then what the hell. So yes, go on, marry her if you must."

"Thank you, Evans. Honest." The smile on his face stretched far and wide and Lily couldn't help but to match his grin.

He then turned his gaze at Sev, his smile faltering a tad bit. "Well?" he demanded.

"Do I really have to?" Sev whined. Lily swatted his chest and mouthed 'be nice', but her husband merely glowered in return.

"Hermione will hex him if she discovers this," the glowering wizard warned.

James slightly paled, but his gaze was unwavering. "Just say the bloody words, Snape," he ground out. "Then, I'll leave you and your greasy hair alone."

Lily snorted. "Clever insult, Potter, especially when he's not worn his hair like that ever since Hogwarts," she pointed out. "I made sure of it."

"If you're going to insult me, might as well end this meeting now." Sev darkly glared and stood up from his seat with so much force that his chair toppled backward.

James was instantly on his feet, a panicked look on his face. "Fine, I'm sorry," he stiffly said, as if pained. Lily's green eyes widened as the Potter heir practically begged Sev. "Just please, please, please say it, Snape. Then I'm going to leave."

Lily pursed her lips and glanced at her husband, wondering if he'd relent to Potter's wishes. Despite how they'd obviously left him alone during their last few years at Hogwarts (Lily still wondered how in Merlin's saggy bum that had happened), they still disliked each other very much. The animosity between them was ridiculous, bordering petty, so it was understandable that Sev was having a hard time granting James's wish. He'd been unfairly bullied by this man, who had made his life miserable when he just wanted to get through Hogwarts in one piece.

But Sev loved Hermione just as much as Lily loved her. She'd been a wonderful friend to them both. Lily still thanked the blessed stars above their fiery best friend was the stubbornest person she'd ever met, because if it weren't for her, she and Sev might never have made up. Imagining how life would be without Sev seemed so far-fetched and bleak to her.

Thus, it didn't surprise Lily when Sev slumped forward in awkward resignation. "Fine, marry her for all I care," he sniped, although his tone of voice was lacking the venom he most likely wanted to convey. "But know this, Potter." His lips curled in disdain as he mustered his darkest glare. "If you hurt Hermione—"

"I won't. Marauder's honour."

The way he stated these words, as if it was the surest thing in this world, made her heart leap into her throat. This was a man clearly in love, to the point that he'd willingly gather the moon and all the stars above if it meant Hermione would be happy.

Lily's eyes watered slightly as a silly smile spread on her face.

Hermione would be very happy with James Potter. Lily was very sure of that.

Sev, for his reply, stiffly nodded his head and looked away, his cheekbones dusted with red.

James had then quickly bid them goodbye. Lily glanced at his untouched treacle tart, remembering Hermione's words that he would never, ever turn away from an offered tart, even if it was offered by someone he clearly disliked. Perhaps he'd been too preoccupied with his agenda today that everything else around him didn't matter.

"That was really nice of you, my love," Lily cooed, wrapping her arms around Sev's torso. She beamed brightly at him, unfazed by the embarrassed scowl on his face.

"I wasn't being nice," he weakly protested.

Lily laughed and buried her face against his neck. "He'll take proper care of Hermione," she said. "You know that, right?"

His warm breath washed over her forehead when he huffed out a small sigh. "I know," he replied.

November 4, 1979

Hermione felt that something very, very bad was going to happen today.

It started at lunch, when she went out of her bedroom to share a meal with her family. She was pleasantly surprised to see that Peter was home. Throughout the whole meal Hermione was all smiles, happy that her family was complete, despite how busy Peter's schedule was and their involvement with the Order.

Anya was her usual sweet self, asking her children about the recent events in their lives. Her mother also recounted some funny anecdotes from work, and Hermione would laugh at the proper places and ask questions if something piqued her curiosity.

Peter, on the other hand, had been strangely quiet. Hermione tried to engage him with some benign, pleasant conversations, but her brother always answered with clipped, one-worded replies. It had greatly unsettled Hermione, because it was obvious he was bothered immensely by something. It didn't help that Anya kept on darting sad, understanding looks at her brother, but would then strike Hermione into another conversation, refusing to give her any opportunity to question whatever was wrong with the both of them.

After lunch and washing the dishes, Hermione announced that she'd promised to spend time with James.

"Wear the floral, red dress, sweetheart," Anya suggested. "I think it's his most favourite dress of yours."

Her cheeks reddened, remembering how his fingers had clutched the little ribbons tied around her shoulders, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "It's terribly cold outside, Mum," she said, but Anya pulled out a dark blue corduroy jacket lined with sherpa for her to don over her dress.

When she emerged out of her room, dressed prettily for her date, Peter surprised Hermione by pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. "You'll always be my favourite little sister," he thickly whispered.

Hermione blinked at him in surprise, a bemused smile stretched on her face. "Well, I am your favourite sibling by default so I'm not really sure if I should take that as a compliment," she joked. But Peter met her blue eyes with his glistening ones. It was obvious he was trying his best not to burst into tears and before she could question him about what was wrong, he'd already pulled away and locked himself in his bedroom.

"Is Peter all right?" Hermione worriedly asked when she saw her mother's sad smile.

"He'll be fine," Anya said, reaching forward to hold both of Hermione's hands. Anya was smiling, but Hermione couldn't help but feel there was a hint of sadness in her expression too. "I love you very much, Hermione. You and Peter are my whole world."

"You sound like I'm going somewhere far away," she worriedly whispered, squeezing Anya's hands in return. But her mother merely laughed and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Best not to keep James waiting, sweetheart." She then dropped a kiss on her hair and led her towards the fireplace.

Hermione frowned and glanced at her mother, but Anya had already thrown a pinch of Floo powder inside the fireplace. "Go on then," she urged, gesturing at the emerald fire. "Have fun."

The brunette nibbled on her bottom lip, wondering if it would be wise to just drop the subject all together. Anya urged her once more and with a resigned sigh, Hermione nodded her head and stepped into the Fireplace. "Potter Manor!"

When she walked out of the huge fireplace and into the foyer, she absentmindedly brushed soot off her jacket. Pokey instantly popped out and excitedly tittered towards her. "Miss Hermione! Welcome!" Although she was normally giddy, there was something about Pokey's actions today that made Hermione nervous. "Come, come. Master James is waiting for Miss in the Drawing Room."

Hermione almost tripped over her feet when Pokey excitedly grabbed onto her arm and pulled her out of the foyer. They breezed through the corridors, her wrist already starting to hurt from Pokey's grip.

They reached the Drawing Room in record time and Hermione noted with a grimace that her wrist was red from Pokey's tight hold. "Miss Hermione is here, Master James!" she exclaimed happily, pushing the door open with a flourished bang that made Hermione flinch.

"Merlin, Pokey, calm down," James greeted with a laugh.

To Hermione's utmost surprise, large tears welled in Pokey's golf ball-sized eyes. "Pokey is so happy. Very, very happy indeed!" She clasped her hands together and glanced back at her master. "Pokey can't wait for Master James to—"

"Thank you, Pokey. You're now dismissed," James cut her off, his eyes wide with horror.

Pokey squeaked and slapped both of her hands against her mouth. "Pokey is sorry, Master James," she cried, her words muffled by her hands.

The Potter heir sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "It's fine," he said, followed by a snort. "I knew you'd be like this today. But you're really dismissed. Hermione's finally here." He met Hermione's confused eyes across the room and have her a lopsided smile. "Hi."

"Hi," she tentatively shot back, distractedly smiling at Pokey in goodbye, when the house-elf squeaked and Disapparated with a soft pop. "Where are we going?"

"Not too far," he said, already striding towards her and clutching her hand. "Come on."

Hermione bit her bottom lip to stop herself from asking any more questions. James was strangely nervous today and she hazarded that he'd dodge all of her questions no matter how persistent she was. Thus, instead, she curiously stared at his back and noted that he'd used Sleekeazy's on his hair today. Which was mighty suspicious, because James was more comfortable wearing his hair naturally messy. He never really bothered styling his hair during their dates, which Hermione didn't mind.

Still, he looked handsomely dressed, with his odd ensemble of Muggle denim jeans and white button-down shirt with grey, thin Wizarding robes donned over the top.

He squeezed her hand reassuringly as he glanced at her, a small, secret smirk on his face. "I can hear your brain thinking very, very loudly, Whiskers," he pointed out.

Her lips tugged into a small frown, feeling her cheeks heating up. "Well, you're acting very suspicious today," she replied matter-of-factly.

There it was again. The nervous glint in his beautiful hazel eyes, and Hermione's head almost burst with endless questions.

"Just relax, love," he urged, tugging her closer so that he could wrap his arm around her waist. He paused and then blinked, his eyes catching sight of the dress underneath her dark blue jacket. "You're wearing the red dress." His eyes met her blue ones again. "The one with the ribbons tied around the shoulders."

"Err… yes," she breathed out, swallowing thickly when his eyes considerably darkened.

"I love that dress," he confessed, a sly smirk growing on his face. "I wonder about it often."

Her cheeks turned into a brilliant shade of red, unable to stop herself from thinking of the reasons why he thought about this particular dress.

Hermione was soon distracted when James led her away from the foyer and towards the back garden of the Manor instead. "We're not going out?" she asked since it was what she'd expected after all.

James smiled and shook his head, pulling the door open and ushering Hermione out into the frigid air. It was a lovely autumn day, with most of the trees in the Potter garden barren, as most of the golden leaves carpeted the yellowing grass. The air was still cold, however, and Hermione shot a dismayed look at her exposed legs, mentally berating herself for not opting to wear warmer clothes to protect her from the cold.

It was obvious now that James was taking her towards that small hill where the wooden cabin sat. But her eyes immediately magnetised towards the small arrangement on the field in front of it, where a stack of wood towered to form a proper bonfire. There was a blanket laid down near the unlit bonfire, with several throw pillows neatly piled on top. James's guitar lay not too far away, next to a basket brimming with food and drinks.

"A picnic?" she asked, a laugh bubbling out from her lips. "On a cold, autumn evening?" A teasing glint appeared in her eyes. "What will your mother think of this?"

James sheepishly smiled. "She might yammer about Pureblood etiquette and all that shite, I'm sure," he answered. "But my parents are currently away visiting family in Italy." Upon seeing the question in her eyes, he laughed and added, "I made sure they packed enough Dragonpox cure to last them a lifetime. You've been flooding them with supplies endlessly, Hermione!"

She lightly glared as her cheeks turned red. "It's better to be safe," she petulantly said.

James merely snorted and pulled out his wand. He then shot various Warming and Drying Charms at her and himself. "But anyway, don't you remember that particular night, Whiskers?" He pointed his wand at the wooden pile and whispered a quick Inciendo. Fire licked out from his wand tip and spread throughout the wood until the bonfire was alit with a flickering flame, smoke slowly billowing heavenward. "The one with the bonfire?"

A fond smile appeared on her face when he sat her down on the blanket. "I do," she said. "It was the day I was able to successfully turn into an Animagus."

He snorted as he settled down beside her and absentmindedly lit all the fairy lights strung around the vast field with a swish of his wand. "That's not the only thing that happened that night," he said, his gleaming hazel eyes meeting hers with a meaningful glint in them. He then wordlessly reached for her cheek and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. "This happened too."

She breathed out a laugh when she opened her eyes. "You were bloody drunk that night," she reminded him.

He stole another kiss and pulled away. "I wasn't," he confessed. "Maybe my head was fuzzy, but I clearly remembered everything."

"But you said—" She frowned when his cheeks bloomed red, his hands already busily draping a blanket over her shoulders.

"You have to admit that day was very confusing for the both of us," he said. "I was supposed to like Lily and you were supposed to be off limits because you're my best mate's little sister. But with the warm fire and your bright eyes and my buzzing mind… well, now that I've properly thought about it, I really wanted to kiss you that night."

He gave her a dazzling grin when he ducked under the blanket to press himself closer to her. "You really did something to my heart when I saw you taking care of Remus after the full moon."

Her eyes widened. "So that's why you were acting weird that morning!" James laughed as he waved his wand in the air. A bottle of wine and two glasses shot out from the picnic basket and into his awaiting hands.

"You had very pretty eyes that day, Whiskers," he confessed while pouring wine into the glasses. "I thought they looked like the sky during my most favourite of days."

Her heart leapt into her throat when he offered her a glass, his lips still stretched wide into that lopsided smile she had come to love so much. "You really have a thing with eyes, don't you?"

He snorted and lifted the glass against his lips to take a small sip. "It's the first thing I notice when I meet new people," he explained. "One time, Sirius said I was crazy obsessed with the eyes. I actually realised I liked Lily too because her eyes made me think of shooting stars during Astronomy Class." He paused and grabbed an apple and offered it to Hermione. "But you see, you can know a lot of things about a person just by looking at their eyes."

"And you know a lot of things about me just by looking at mine?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow in bemusement.

He pinned her with his stare. "Not a lot," he admitted, "but… but I always wondered why you had very sad eyes."

The smile she showed was forlorn. "And now?"

"Still a bit sad," he said, reaching forward to cradle her jaw, "but you're making these googly eyes again."

"No, I'm not," she weakly protested, knowing full well that she was, whilst staring back at this man who had become a huge part of her second life.

He grinned and leant down to give her a kiss, before pulling away to prepare the meal Pokey had made for their picnic date.

Her initial trepidation about this day had simmered into contented peace as she talked to James about almost everything. They'd tiptoed around her past, with James mostly wanting to know more about the elusive Hermione Granger. She'd indulged him with answers, making sure she'd never tell him too much about Harry Potter. She knew one day she'd have to tell him about Harry, especially now that they were nearing the destruction of all of the horcruxes, but Hermione wasn't ready yet. How was she supposed to tell him that this version of Harry, this best friend that she had loved more than life itself, wouldn't exist anymore, because his mother was married to another and his father was in love with her?

No, she would save that worrying for another day. There was no room for difficult questions today.

Thus, Hermione pushed those thoughts away and comforted herself by snuggling deeper into James's warm embrace. The gibbous moon was already high above the night sky and the flickering fire was already dwindling. It had started to get colder once more, but Hermione didn't want to move too much, already comfortable with her position.

James had become more fidgety as the night drew on. His hold on her was tense and tight and he was emitting this nervous energy that made her edgy again.

"What is it?" she asked, pulling away to look at him. "What's wrong?"

His hazel eyes widened, immediately looking away from Hermione and emitting a strangled chuckle. "Nothing's wrong, Hermione," he appeased.

She narrowed her eyes and was about to persist, but there was a sudden loud rumbling from the grey clouds. Her blue eyes flickered towards the sky, noting with dismay that cumulonimbus clouds now covered the beautiful moon, obscuring its light and the stars glittering around it.

"No," James groaned, growing panicky when lightning flashed, followed by booming thunder. "They said it wouldn't rain today!"

Hermione glanced at him in amusement. "We can just continue our date inside," she offered matter-of-factly, but James was vehemently shaking his head.

"No, no, no, I planned this evening perfectly," he said, jumping onto his feet when light rain started pouring down from the sky. His anxiety had increased ten-fold and Hermione grew concerned. James then looked at her with so much seriousness, prompting her brows to furrow, nervous as to why he was wearing that expression again. "I guess I really have no choice but to do it now."

He looked marvellously defeated, but what was curious was how furiously he was blushing. James looked absolutely flustered and so unlike his pompous self that her initial bad feeling about today resurfaced again. She warily eyed him as he fell down onto both of his knees and earnestly peered into her blue eyes. "Hermione," he started, "I love you."

Her eyes widened, clearly not expecting such an exasperated declaration of his feelings for her. A nervous laugh slipped out of her lips when he tightly held both of her hands in his. "Well, we established that months ago," she joked, trying to dispel the uncomfortable tension that had seemed to envelope them both. "And I-I love you too, James. You know that."

His tension eased a bit as a small, fond smile flittered onto his face. "And Merlin knows I don't deserve you at all," he said, moving closer to cup his hand against her cheek. He brushed away some of the rain that had splattered onto her soft cheek. "But you see, despite your complicated past, I think we really are destined to be with each other. Don't you agree?"

She thickly swallowed and tentatively smiled, unsure where his little speech was going.

"I love you, Hermione," he repeated, his voice stronger and louder, as his eyes grew steely with utmost certainty. "And I know, I know that the future is uncertain. We are in the midst of war and anything can happen. And you— you're mighty determined to bring Voldemort down, even if it costs you your life. And that scares me shiteless because I don't want to lose you in this war, Hermione. Not when I've finally found my way to you."

Her heart lodged in her throat, watching in horror as James rummaged inside his robe pocket and pulled out a small, black velvet ring box. Her eyes swam with tears when he tentatively opened the box and revealed a beautiful ring, with a sapphire stone surrounded by leaf-shaped diamonds strewn across a silver band. "James, I—" Panic trampled whatever words she wanted to say, rising up from the deepest recesses of her heart and wrapping tightly around her, until Hermione couldn't breathe.

"Hermione, will you marry me?" he softly asked, his hazel eyes shining as brightly as the sapphire gemstone. "I want to spend the future by your side. Will you let me do that? I want to take care of you, and wake up beside you, and build a lovely home with you. Please, Hermione, will you let me do that?"

Her chest started to hurt as more tears tumbled down from her eyes. "Oh, James," she whispered.

Confusion appeared in his eyes, which turned to pure terror when Hermione pulled both of her hands away.

"I'm sorry," she cried, already climbing to her feet. "I–I need to think. Clearly. I'm—I need to."

She slowly backed away before turning around and Apparating on the spot, with James's distressed face burned into her mind.

A/N: Patience, my loves. See you tomorrow!

With love,
WickedlyAwesomeMe

P.S. Follow me on tumblr (kimmy-writes)!