Work Text:
you wanting me (tonight feels impossible)
1/1
Hermione was having a less than stellar evening.
Beginning with the fact that she'd shoved herself into a tiny black dress for a date who never showed up, now she couldn't shake an admiring wizard no matter how dismissive she was toward him. She'd made her excuses, but Barnabus, as he introduced himself, wouldn't take no for an answer. When she told him she was waiting for someone, he just looked unconvinced. In his defence, she had been at the bar nearly 45 minutes at this point, with no sign of a date so far. Why had she even agreed to meet McLaggen for drinks? He was an arrogant misogynist. Was she really that desperate?
It was true she hadn't been on a date in a while. Work had taken the forefront of her time and for good reason. She was making progress in pushing her legislature forward for creating jobs and financial aid for individuals with lycanthropy. Of course, the older generation of Purebloods were up in arms about it, but that's exactly why now was the right time to move. With the end of war, many of the worst wizards had been outed as Voldemort supporters and had either ducked out of society to wait for memories to dull or were spending time in Azkaban. A younger generation had come forward and they were currently outnumbering the more traditional wizards. But for all her hard work, it was nights like these that reminded her something else was missing. A social life.
As a hand skimmed her bare shoulder, a finger wiggling under the thin strap of her dress, Hermione regretted not only letting Pandora pick her outfit but removing her jacket when the pub became too warm. Swatting at the wandering hand, she hopped off her stool and walked away, cutting through the crowd. The irritated 'hey's' and 'watch it's' following behind her said the ever persistent Barnabus was right on her heels.
It was just her luck that the only wizard she recognized was one James Potter. He'd just entered the pub and was pushing the sleeves of his sweater up his arms. Hermione quickened her steps and came to an abrupt stop just in front of him. "Just act like we're together," she mumbled in greeting.
Brow furrowed, he wondered, "How much've you had to drink?"
Rolling her eyes, she opened her mouth to snap that she had, in fact, not had anything to drink. She rather wished she had, then maybe this night wouldn't be grating on her last nerve. As it was, she was entirely too sober. But before she could reply, a meaty hand landed on her shoulder and squeezed.
"Where are you goin', sweetheart?" Barnabus tugged at her. "Come back to the bar, I'll get you something to loosen you up."
Hermione raised an eyebrow at James. When he smirked, she considered the very real possibility that he might actually leave her to this very uncomfortable situation. Instead, he cast his eyes past her. "Paws off, mate. That's my girlfriend."
"Says who?"
Rolling her eyes, Hermione shrugged the hand off and turned, arms crossed. "I told you I was waiting for someone. He's arrived."
An arm swung around; James' large hand pressed flat across her stomach and pulled. Hermione stumbled back a step, his firm chest suddenly flush with her. "Trust me, she's too much witch for you, Pal. See the hair crackle? She's more likely to blow your bits off than—"
"Thank you," Hermione interrupted. "I think he gets the picture."
"Just making it as vivid as possible, Pumpkin." James rested his chin atop her, yes, crackling hair. This hadn't happened since first or second year, when she'd struggled to keep her mood in check and it manifested in the magical version of static electricity, making her hair poof up and spit little bolts of magic between her curls. "We can only convince the Aurors not to press charges so many times. You've really got to stop aiming so low. That's three wizards who will never procreate."
Hermione was tempted to stomp on James' foot, but considering Barnabus' pallor, this was actually frightening him enough to leave. "It's not my fault if some wizards only learn the hard way."
"Keep her," Barnabus spat, before turning on his heel and retreating.
"Well." James squeezed her. "Can't say I expected that."
Hermione pulled his arm from her and turned around. "Blowing bollocks off? Seriously?"
"If you had bollocks, you would know how serious a threat that was." James shrugged. "Worked, didn't it?"
Sighing, Hermione curtailed the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. "I should've known you'd somehow escalate a situation instead of defusing it."
"Hey, you came to me!" He tossed his hands up. "How am I the one getting lectured right now? You accosted me with zero explanation."
"You were the only person I recognized, don't let it go to your head." Pulling her jacket on, she tugged her hair free.
"Why not just leave then?"
"Not that I need to explain myself to you, but he wouldn't leave me alone." She motioned to the door. "This might be a wizarding pub, but it's Muggle London out there. I needed a safe place to apparate where no one can see me, but that means walking down a strange street hoping he doesn't follow. Now that he's been scared off, I can go."
"And let him win? You didn't put a dress like that on just to get scared off by somebody with no manners."
Hermione pursed her lips. "I had a date. He didn't show and I'd much rather not hang around here alone."
"What am I then? Does my company not count?"
"I assumed you were meeting someone." She was honestly surprised he was even still speaking to her. "Don't you usually attract a crowd?"
His mouth inched up. "Pay a lot of attention to me then?"
Huffing, she rolled her eyes. "I don't think there's enough space in this pub for me, you, and your giant ego."
"We've all fit so far." He tugged at her sleeve. "C'mon, one drink, on me. You can tell me about whatever arsehole stood you up and end your night on a better note."
"What makes you think your company is better?"
"Well, seeing as you chose me to play hero, you seem to."
Hermione wrinkled her nose disagreeably. "Hero might be overselling yourself."
He laughed under his breath. "I'm at no risk of getting a fat head around you." His hand slipped down her arm and caught her fingers. "One drink. And if you're done after, I'll personally walk you out so you don't have to worry about any randy wizards following you."
Chewing her lip, Hermione rolled the idea over in her head a moment. It wasn't as if she had anything waiting for her back at her apartment. Nothing but Crookshanks, at least. And that book on Ancient Runes that promised to be a good read, but she was saving that.
"One drink," she agreed and let him tow her back to the bar.
He ordered them each a pint and then patted a stool for her to take a seat. Sliding onto it, she sat, elbow pressed against his, watching him through the mirror behind the bar as his gaze wandered the room, taking it all in.
"Thank you… for earlier," she said. "I know I didn't give you any explanation and you could've just left me there. I appreciate your help."
Hazel eyes found hers, lighthearted humor making them warm. "Hermione Granger thanking me. And here I thought we'd saved the world from ending."
Hermione scoffed. "You make me sound like a dragon lady out to get you."
"Forgive me, I thought seven years of you reminding me and mine that our pranks were dangerous and cruel was a sign of your enmity." His brow furrowed in faux confusion. "Was I misreading something?"
"Some of your pranks were dangerous." She could think of five off the top of her head that had resulted in some injury or humiliation suffered by their peers. "And absolutely cruel." While she had no positive feelings toward Severus Snape, the boy was often the target of their less than friendly pranks and had suffered for it.
"Ah, but all of them were ingenious, so maybe there's a balance to be found."
Taking a deep breath, Hermione counted back from five and then shook her head. "Do you know what I found so frustrating about all of it?"
He squinted at her a moment and then nodded to the barkeep, paying him for their drinks. He took his pint glass, knocked it against hers with a "Cheers," and gulped down two long drags. Licking the foam from his mouth, he told her, "All right. I can take it. Tell me all the ways I frustrate you."
Blowing her breath out through her nose, she shifted on the stool to face him, her knees pressed against his hip and thigh. "The magic that you and your friends wielded was powerful. The ideas you came up with were fascinating and applied in a way that wasn't seen, especially for students your age. You became animagi in what, Fifth Year? That's practically unheard of. All three of you, mastering a skill that takes some adult wizards much longer. The overlap of skill, the creation of that map of yours, the ability to mesh four different minds together to create one cohesive outcome…" She shook her head. "You had something amazing at the tips of your fingers and you wasted it on silliness. On humiliating the Slytherins or frustrating the professors, or just generally making obstacles of the halls to irritate Filch."
"But that's the best part," he argued. "And it's only a waste if it doesn't have the intended effect."
Hermione scoffed. "Which was what? Exactly?"
He grinned then. "Laughter."
"At whose expense?"
"Anybody's. Mine. Yours. Whatever unsuspecting victim happened upon it. The point was that we laughed. Onlookers, victims, professors." He shook his head. "We were on the brink of war. Everybody was tense and scared. We didn't know how long we'd live once we graduated. But we had this. We could put our heads together and make things a little lighter for a while. For as many pranks as we pulled on others, there were twice as many on each other. We just wanted to enjoy something while it lasted."
Hermione felt her anger deflate. She shook her head. "That's not a terrible reason."
A slow, knowing grin unfurled on his mouth. "Admit it, you liked some of those pranks."
Turning her nose up, she shifted so she was facing the bar once more. "I already praised your skill, don't push it."
James laughed under his breath. He nudged her with his knee then. "So, what wanker didn't show up for your date?"
Hermione bought herself a few seconds by taking a drink of her pint. When there was nothing left for it, however, she lowered the glass and admitted, "Corbin… McLaggen."
"McLaggen?" When the loudness of his voice prompted her to shush him, he managed to lower it a couple notches. "He's a slug."
"I'm aware, thank you." Sighing, her shoulders slumped. "He's been asking for weeks and I've always said no. But then he dropped by my desk this morning and I don't know. I just kept thinking about Fiona and Francesca gossiping that I never dated and was going to die an old maid with nothing but my beloved creatures to comfort me." She rolled her eyes. "Which doesn't even make sense. I make legislature to make lives better. It's not like I have a menagerie in my apartment and I'm pushing things forward for my own benefit."
"Well, nothing wrong with being an old maid if that's what you want. And hey, didn't you have a little Kneazle with you at Hogwarts? Bright orange with a flat face?"
"His name is Crookshanks; he's a half-Kneazle. And I don't plan to be an old maid. I've just been busy."
"Fighting the good fight, I know." At her curious look, he explained, "I was recently voted onto the Wizengamot; took on my father's legacy seat. So I've heard whispers about what you're trying to do for werewolves. It's commendable."
Hermione took another sip from her pint. "At least I have that going for me. Social life wise, I feel like an idiot."
"Don't feel too bad. You've unintentionally avoided a date with McLaggen. He caught you in a moment of weakness is all." He nudged her shoulder. "Besides, he is not worth that dress. In fact, he probably took one look at you, realized he was out of his league, and made a strategic retreat."
Unlikely, she thought, but she appreciated the encouragement anyway. "What exactly was the strategy there?"
"Well, given it was Corbin, probably something stupid like leaving you alone so long you get insecure and are grateful when he finally shows up."
"That's terribly convoluted. What kind of arsehole—"
"Hermione!" Corbin came to a stop next to them. "Got busy, you know how it is. You weren't waiting long, were you?"
Hermione stared at a smirking Corbin for a beat and then cut her eyes toward James, who shrugged at her before reaching for his pint to busy himself.
She raised an eyebrow. "Corbin, you're an hour late."
"Well, you can't be too upset with me if you waited, yeah?" He cast a look around the pub. "This place is a bit dull though. Why don't we go somewhere else? Get a bite to eat, order a bottle of wine, really enjoy ourselves."
Hermione blinked at the audacity of men. "Thanks, but I found better company for the evening."
"You what?" Laughing incredulously, Corbin's gaze darted to James, who had foam on his upper lip, so clearly he looked particularly fetching at the moment. "You're having me on."
Rolling her eyes, Hermione reach over and wiped a thumb over James' mouth. Not so much as hesitating, he took her entire thumb into his mouth and sucked the foam from it. She absolutely did not shiver. That was a shudder of revulsion— obviously. Clearing her throat, she brought her hand to her lap and squeezed her suddenly tingling fingers into a fist. "Corbin, I'm sure you know James Potter."
James nodded his chin at him. "I'd apologize for nicking your date, but mum raised the honest sort… and I'm not sorry."
"Hermione, sweetheart…" Corbin turned what he clearly thought was a charming grin on her. "I understand you're miffed that I was a few minutes late, but come on."
"I'm not miffed." Hermione shook her head. "I might actually be grateful."
Corbin's face twisted with confusion. "Didn't you once set Potter's robes on fire?"
"He caught himself on fire. I sent him into the lake. One could say I saved his life."
"Nothing an aguamenti couldn't fix," James muttered, "but who's complaining."
"And weren't you the one who pushed him into a broom closet and spelled the door shut after he set off fireworks in the library?"
"That was you? I was stuck in there for six hours!"
"It was the library," Hermione defended. "Who sets off fireworks around books?"
"It was firecrackers not fireworks and that was Pete!"
"Well, you were the closest one I could find." Hermione waved a dismissive hand. "Peter's a better runner."
"And in sixth year, you spelled his and his friends' hair silver and green," Corbin reminded.
"Took nearly a month to fade. Impressively potent," James admitted. "Sirius cried. Tried to shave his head until Remus convinced him it would just grow in green until the spell wore off."
Hermione frowned. "No, it wouldn't have. In fact, I expected all of you to show up unflatteringly bald."
"Probably would have, but he looks terrible with short hair." James shrugged. "Better green than have to see his lumpy head every day."
"My point," Corbin interrupted loudly, "is that you two hate each other."
"Well, arguably," James said, scratching his stubbled chin, "all of your reasons point to her hating me."
"And I'm not trying to date you," Corbin sneered. "I'm trying to remind her that she does not, in fact, like you."
James put on a mockingly mature expression. "We've grown up, Corbin. It's been years since Hogwarts—"
"Four," he replied drolly. "Did you become a new man so quick?"
"In fact, I have. Hermione was just telling me how clever my pranks were and that I have the potential to be quite the wizard."
Hermione could feel a headache forming. "Look, Corbin, I'm entitled to change my mind whenever I feel, and I no longer want to join you for a date. Maybe if you'd been on time and less… Well, things would be different. But James and I were enjoying our pint and reminiscing, so… Have a good evening."
Corbin stood there another few seconds, sputtering and confused.
James smirked. "Think that means piss off, mate." With a wink, he raised his pint in cheers.
"Unbelievable." Corbin huffed. "Find me when you realize what a mistake you made." With that, he stomped off toward the door, knocking into a few patrons on his way.
James clucked his tongue. "Dodged a curse with that one."
Hermione hummed and then raised her glass. "To me and my many creatures."
"Ay." He knocked his glass against hers. "Could be worse."
Hermione sighed. "Of the three men I've spent any time with this evening, the only one worth talking to is my school rival."
"I don't know if I'd call it a rivalry. It was a little one sided for that."
She frowned at him. "Are you seriously suggesting it was entirely on my end?"
"You name one time I pranked you directly," he urged. "Go on."
Hermione sat a little taller on her stool, bristling with righteous indignation. "I can think of ten times right now that one of your pranks caused me undue stress. First Year, you spelled the girls' stairs to turn into a slide at random. I literally broke my elbow and had to see Madame Pomfrey."
James winced. "Yeah, that wasn't our brightest idea."
"Later that same year, when you spelled the dorm doors shut and the only way out was to fly. Only my worst fear!"
"Technically, there was a loophole that if you got on the broom even in the dorm, the door would open. But all the girls just flew out the window and didn't bother checking the door had unlocked. Typical Gryffindors..."
"I had to double up with Mary because I was scared I'd fall off on my own."
James nodded. "Well, you faced your fear and won, so there's that."
"Second Year, when you somehow charmed garden snakes to temporarily petrify anyone who made eye contact with them like miniature basilisks."
"In our defence, that spell was supposed to last an hour at best. Had no idea it'd take three days to wear off." He winced. "I did visit you in the Hospital Wing, if it helps."
Hermione paused. "You did?"
"Sure. You make for a great statue. Sirius said if it never wore off, we should put you in Gryffindor Tower, right next to the door, to intimidate students into behaving."
Rolling her eyes, she pursed her lips. "How pleasant."
"We tried that spell recently and worked out the kinks. Pete was only petrified for thirty minutes. To be fair, Remus wagers it might be less potent on adults than children though, so we're not putting it on shelves yet."
"Happy to hear your childhood pranks are going on to further traumatize others," she muttered.
James grinned. "Here's hoping."
"Can't forget Fourth Year, when you spiked the pumpkin juice and it made everyone's teeth elongate, and since I already had large teeth, mine looked even more absurd."
"Like a little beaver; it was adorable." He side-eyed her knowingly. "Had Pomfrey shrink them a little extra after that, didn't you?"
Hermione flushed. "Besides the point." She waved a dismissive hand. "And Fifth Year, when every single item in the Girls' Dorm was spelled pink. Even my cauldron!"
"You looked quite fetching. Brings out the rage in your eyes."
Hermione glared at him. "And then Sixth Year—"
"Have you noticed an ongoing theme here?"
"That you have no shame whatsoever?"
"Well, that, and the fact that none of these pranks were directed at you. Like everyone else, you were just collateral damage. The whole dorm was affected. Everyone drank the pumpkin juice, including Pete. Anybody who looked at the snakes was petrified." James shrugged. "Were you an unwilling victim? Absolutely. But I never targeted you."
Hermione paused and blinked. "You're saying this was an entirely one-sided irritation?"
"I know it was. In sixth year, I tried to tell you not to go down the hallway."
"How was I supposed to trust you?" Hermione glared. "After everything else, listening to you seemed counterproductive."
"But you'll agree I did warn you."
"The entire hall was a lake, James. My bookbag was soaked. All my homework was destroyed!"
"I offered to personally dry it for you…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "The ink would have run so I'd just be giving you weirdly stiff parchment, but I still offered."
Shaking her head slowly, Hermione stared at him. "I don't understand. Why did you warn me?"
Shrugging, he turned away. "Figured I'd gotten on your bad side enough already. Didn't need to add to the tally."
Hermione stared at his profile a long moment. "You visited me in the hospital wing when I was petrified… And in first year, when I broke my elbow, you gave me a box of Sugarquills as an apology." Her eyes bounced around thoughtfully as she reflected. "When I was caught in the crossfire and was throwing up slugs, you held my hair back."
"Also cursed Yaxley so he threw up spiders. Turns out he was petrified of spiders and he passed straight out." He sucked his teeth. "Got a whole three months' detention for that one."
Hermione let out a stunted little laugh. Because she was suddenly seeing something that seemed both absurd and quite obvious. "James, did... Did you fancy me?"
James went completely still and then shook his head. "What, a wizard can't hold someone's hair or give out apology sweets for causing unintentional harm without feelings being involved?"
Raising an eyebrow, she asked, "Did you do that for anyone else?"
James dropped his gaze to his drink, and then he sighed. "You know, you didn't always hate me… Back in first year, before the stairs-turned-slide thing, you used to give me the cards from your Chocolate Frogs. I had a stack just from you, kept it separate from the rest. And whenever you'd get banana pudding for dessert, you'd give me yours because I told you once it was my favourite. You even asked me for advice on the proper pronunciation of a few spells. Me."
Hermione felt a wave crash over her for a moment. "I don't hate you. I didn't even hate you then. I was… frustrated. You were so brilliant and capable and it made me angry that you could do such amazing things and it all seemed to come so easy. You were good at school and you got on with everyone, no matter how mad you and your friends acted, and you were just so good at magic. You applied theory in a way my brain struggled to process. You created things I couldn't even imagine." She took a deep breath. "I was jealous and envious and… I guess that manifested into something else. I mean, I didn't particularly enjoy when one of your pranks seemed to collide with my life, but that doesn't change the fact that what really bothered me was that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't do what you did. You were accomplishing things beyond my means and I'd never been faced with that before."
James half-smiled. "So, the most brilliant witch of our age is saying I'm brilliant, is that it?"
Shaking her head, Hermione attempted, and failed, to suppress a grin. "All right, yes, I am. Are you happy?"
"Over the moon."
She laughed lightly. "Well, I'm glad something good came out of this awful evening."
"You mean besides you in that dress?" He whistled. "Have I mentioned how amazing you look?"
Hermione looked down at herself. "Honestly feels a bit like I'm just wearing lingerie in public."
"Hmm." He turned and propped his head on his hand, elbow resting on the bar. Reaching over, he used a finger to draw her jacket to the side, revealing more of her dress. Seated as she was, it had ridden even higher on her thighs. "I like this bit here." He trailed his fingers over the semi-sheer mesh panel, following the lines of the corset style ribbing.
She watched his finger climb up the center; a few more inches and he could trace the scalloped lace that hugged her breasts. A shiver ran the length of her and this time there was no denying it was sincere.
His eyes rose to meet hers. "I did fancy you. First time we met, you were looking for Alice's toad on the train. Tiny little thing but you were so bossy. I knew right away, you were it."
She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. "We were eleven."
James shrugged. "I had a feeling."
"For six and a half years straight, I considered us basically enemies."
He grinned. "Rivals, not enemies. And what's a love story without a little drama?"
Hermione scoffed. "What was your plan exactly?"
"Oh, I had zero plan. I think, at first, I was trying to show off, but then you got hurt, so that didn't help. Anything I did after that seemed to just annoy you." He shrugged. "So, I pined instead."
"For seven years?"
"I'm nothing if not dedicated."
"Ahh." Her mouth quirked. "Fancied yourself in love then?"
"Of course." He eyed her searchingly. "Wouldn't take much to get me there again."
"No?" Her smile softened. "You want to fall in love with me?"
"Absolutely, I do."
It was the sincerity of his face that did it. Not a joke in sight, he admired her with heavy lidded hazel eyes. The curve of his mouth was… promising. What would being loved by James Potter look like? He, as a person, was brilliant, sharp, focused, and warm. Co-creator and owner of Marauders Prank Shop, which utilized the brilliant tomfoolery of his youth, corrected whatever didn't work, and made an entire business venture out of fun. He believed in creature rights; had stuck by his best mate and even learned to become an animagus to help him through his monthly transitions. Trustworthy, loyal, intelligent, and did she mention handsome? Because he was that, too. Of course, he knew it, which might have been less attractive on some, but he carried it well. Confident, clever, creative.
"Are you busy tomorrow night?"
He blinked; a shadow of surprise that was quickly forgotten. "If I was, I'm not now."
She laughed, airy and light. "Let's get dinner."
"Are you asking me out on a date?"
"Well, you had eleven years to do it and haven't so far." She shrugged. "Seemed more proactive to do it myself."
James grinned. "You got me there."
Her head cocked, brow arched. "Is that a yes?"
"Enthusiastically."
"Wonderful." She bit her lip to hide a smile. "If you stand me up though, you should be warned, I have a reputation for blasting bollocks straight off..."
He laughed, his shoulders shaking, and his head fell forward. Raven hair dangled over his forehead and fell into his eyes. He brushed a hand through it, rustling his fingers so his hair looked loose and windswept. It was dangerous how attractive that was. "I'll be early with bells on."
"Good." Hermione pushed her pint away and slid off the stool. "Walk me out. We can discuss where we're going on our date."
Finishing off the last swallow of his drink, he stood and held an elbow out for her.
She hooked her arm in his and followed him through the crowd. As they stepped outside and the door closed behind them, the noise from the pub became distant and muffled. The cool night air felt nice on her skin. She breathed in deep and felt almost light-headed for a moment. What a strange night this had been. "After how things started, this was not how I expected it to end."
"No?" He tugged her along down the sidewalk. "I was supposed to order take-out for me and the boys, but then I was accosted by a beautiful witch and decided to enact my eleven-year plan of getting her to fall in love with me."
Hermione choked on a laugh. "Are you telling me they're just sitting back at your flat, starving?"
"Regrettably, yes."
She frowned. "Now I feel a bit awful for them."
"They'll understand," he said. "They spent the entirety of our time at Hogwarts putting up with my pining."
Hermione's expression was plainly skeptical. "I've seen Remus when he's hungry. I'm slightly concerned for your safety."
James chuckled. "Fair. I'll pick something up before I head back."
They took their time, passing a few different alleys or alcoves that likely would've been safe and discreet to apparate from. They were meandering, really. Hermione was surprised to find how much she didn't want their evening to end.
"Can I ask you something?"
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Sounds ominous, but sure."
"What you said earlier, about me and the boys becoming animagus..."
Snorting, she said, "Don't tell me you're going to pretend you aren't. Not only was it a little difficult to ignore the way Pete kept spitting up a mandrake leaf when he couldn't take the taste anymore— I can only assume he was the last to transition— but the nicknames? Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. James, please. And then the flea jokes! Not to mention I stumbled on Sirius in dog form curled up by the common room fire every other month."
James rubbed the back of his neck. "All right, bit obvious that."
"And the map, you four were always digging it out and looking it over before you'd go on some after-hours adventure with that cloak of yours."
His eyes widened. "You knew about the cloak too?"
"By Fifth Year, you'd all sprouted up and couldn't fit under there. I'd see your feet wandering about."
He hummed. "Once Pete mastered turning into a rat, we had him run ahead, left us with some more room."
"Smart," she acknowledged.
"Any more of my secrets you figured out then?"
Hermione turned her eyes up thoughtfully. "I don't know if it's your secret, but I know about Remus. His affliction." She glanced at him. "And I knew you and the others would join him on full moons."
James' steps stumbled briefly. "You never said anything."
Her brow furrowed. "Why would I do that?"
He shrugged. "I imagine most would be scared to share a school with a werewolf."
"Ridiculous," she scoffed. "He's human most of the time, and there was clearly a plan in place to mitigate harm. Plus, he had three very persistent and loyal friends to keep him company. I think that says quite a lot."
James ducked his head, glasses sliding down the slope of his nose.
She enjoyed the pleased smile that unfurled on his face. Much as she had often chose to ignore it, he really was very handsome and he'd only grown into his looks over the years.
"I'm glad it was you." Her hand folded around his bicep and squeezed. "Imagine if Corbin had actually shown up on time."
"I stick by my original opinion. You are wildly out of his league." He grinned down at her. "That might intimidate most blokes, but me, I'm lucky. See, I fancied you when you were shoving me into lakes and locking me in closets. It can only improve from here."
Hermione snorted. "You were on fire!"
"Just my sleeve. Admit it, you saw an opportunity."
Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "See if I ever save your life again."
"Maybe you just liked seeing me wet. Is that it?" He batted his eyes at her. "Was I particularly fetching climbing out of the Black Lake after?"
"Like a drowned cat," she mused, pretending to fan herself with her hand. "I could hardly contain myself." Honestly, she didn't stick around to see him get out of the lake. She and Pandora were in a heated debate when she spotted him and his mates fooling around. Seeing him catch fire, she'd simply reacted and then continued on. Back then, that was just par for the course.
James laughed under his breath. "Well, I've set myself on fire a few times since, so you may get another opportunity yet."
"Fingers crossed."
They were leaning against each other, footsteps falling into rhythm.
"How do you feel about getting dinner at a Muggle restaurant? There's a nice Italian place around the corner from my flat I've wanted to try."
"Name the place, I'll be there." James cocked his head, brow furrowed. "Does tonight count as our first date or is that tomorrow?"
"Any particular reason?"
"Two, actually."
Hearing the mischief in his voice, she narrowed her eyes up at him. "Oh?"
"The first being that we'll need to know for the anniversary."
A helplessly amused laugh escaped her. "Ah, of course. And the second?"
"Well, I don't kiss on the first date." He pressed a hand to his chest. "I'm a gentleman, and I have to be sure of your intentions."
Hermione bit her lip, tugged him to a stop, and shifted so she was standing in front of him. Her hand slid down the length of his arm until her fingers were folded across his palm. "This is not a date. Tomorrow will be our first." She took a step forward, until the tips of her shoes met his. "What is your policy on kissing outside of dates?"
"At the risk of being called a slag…" He caught her chin with two of his fingers and raised it as he ducked forward. "My policy is quite loose around non-dates."
"Scandalous," she murmured, her nose grazing his. "You realize this means you've effectively voided your chances of a kiss goodnight tomorrow."
"Better make it worth it then." His mouth slanted over hers, fingers dragging down the length of her neck. Drawing her hand up, he brought it to his shoulder and then his arm was wrapped around her waist, and he was pulling her in.
Hermione's fingers gripped the hair at his nape and she hummed as he nipped at her bottom lip. Her mouth parted and his warm tongue was quick to indulge. They stood there, under the light of a streetlamp, kissing like their life depended on it. Was this the work of seven years of frustration finally finding a release? If so, the build up might have been worth it.
She liked the way he tilted her head back, kissing her chin before mouthing panting kisses down her neck, teeth scraping over her collar bones. All to come right back and suck on her bottom lip. Her heart was beating hard against her chest and the tips of her fingers seemed to buzz with anticipation. His hand had slid up into her hair, cradling her head in his palm while his fingers gently massaged.
Hermione had half a mind to forget all about propriety and invite him back to her flat. One of her hands had slid under his sweater and was spread over his stomach, where she could feel firm muscle flexing. The flood of heat that spread through her was nearly overwhelming. Their banter and teasing had left her feeling floaty and confident, but this… This was a different level of attraction. She couldn't help but wonder at how James' narrowed focus and attention might translate in the bedroom.
His hand found its way under her jacket, fingertips spread over her back. She could feel the heat of his palm as it crossed thin, sheer fabric. Lower and lower, his hand slid over the hill of her arse, delving all the way to the end of her dress. He cupped her thigh and pulled, bringing her leg up to his hip while his fingers lightly teased bare skin, stroking from the hollow of her knee to right up under her dress. He squeezed the soft give of her thigh and her breath hitched, teeth clamping down on his lip. He grunted and pressed against her, chests meeting flat in the middle.
Home, she thought. Stumbling through her living room, barely avoiding an annoyed Crookshanks, shoving him onto the bed. No need to remove the dress, just her knickers. Climb on top and sink down to take him—
A loud, sharp whistle startled her out of her fantasy and she pulled her head back. Panting through her swollen mouth, she tried to blink away the haze of lust that was clouding everything.
James groaned. "Ignore it. They'll go away." He began sucking a kiss on the hinge of her jaw before he nuzzled his face against her neck and nipped at her earlobe.
Her knees shook and she was quickly becoming distracted again. Until—
"I don't see a single bit of food. Do you, Moons?"
"I don't."
"How long've we been waiting now, Pete?"
"Feels like hours."
James sighed, pressed another kiss to her ear. "Okay," he breathed.
Leaning back, he took a moment to lower her leg, holding her hips steady until he was sure she had her feet under her. With gentle hands, he adjusted the hem of her dress so it was properly covering anything and then gave her jacket a tug in an attempt to close it. Truth be told, she felt wobbly and entirely too warm.
With a quick brush of his hand through his hair, he finally turned his attention to his three best friends. "Terrible news, mates. They're all out of food. I argued for a good hour before giving up."
Sirius crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "What a hero you are, Prongsy. An entire hour. I'm touched you cared so much."
"Only the best for you lot." He hung an arm around Hermione's shoulders and pulled her into his side. "There's a curry place a block over. Could probably grab something there if you like."
"Moony here is starving. He's practically skin and bones. When you didn't show up, we got worried, thought we'd come see what the hold up is." Sirius' gaze shifted to Hermione. "Seems you were preoccupied. Granger, nice seeing you."
"Black." She nodded. "Heard you personally brought Bellatrix in. Bravo."
His mouth quirked. "Always nice to hear my hard work is appreciated."
"Are we gonna address the Hippogriff in the room?" Pete wondered. "They were half way to shagging in the street. Congrats, by the way."
"Not a lick of subtly in you, Pete. I appreciate that." Sirius turned an expectant look on James. "How'd this happen? Last we heard, Granger here hated your guts."
"I think everyone might be overestimating my feelings back then," Hermione sighed. "It was hardly at the level of hate."
Pete frowned. "Didn't you try to drown him once?"
"He was on fire!" Hermione barely avoided stomping her foot. "If I wanted to drown him, he wouldn't be here."
James grinned down at her. "Sweeter words were never spoken."
She rolled her eyes. "Merciful Morgana, I toss one wizard in the lake, and no one forgets about it."
"You didn't even check on me." James rocked back on his heels and sucked his teeth. "Just flicked your wand, sent me flying into the water, and kept walking."
Hermione huffed. "And you survived. You're welcome."
Shaking his head, James laughed under his breath. "Maybe we're even. You saved me then and I saved you tonight. Heroes, the both of us."
"Saved her from what?" Remus wondered.
Hermione dragged her eyes from the teasing curve of James' mouth. "Just a persistent wizard."
"Arguably, my mere presence also saved you from a terrible date with McLaggen."
"Corbin?" Remus asked, in the same breath that Sirius sneered, "That slug?"
"A misjudgement that was easily corrected. Anyway…" She cast her gaze around the empty street. "I should be heading home."
"Are you sure? Sounds like we're getting curry…" James wiggled his eyebrows. "Hungry?"
Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. She shouldn't. This night promised endless teasing from a group of boys she'd knocked heads with for quite some time. But, then again, maybe that was the point. If she was really going to do this, go on a date with James Potter and see where things could go, then maybe this was a good chance to see what that would entail. Because if there was one thing she knew for sure, it was that these four men would always be a defining part of each other's lives. And as much as they might've driven her a little mental in Hogwarts, they weren't those same children anymore. If she could get on with James, maybe she could become friends with the others too.
Remus slung an arm around Pete and Sirius' shoulders. "C'mon, we'll be on our best behaviour. Marauder's honor."
Sirius grinned wolfishly. "Personally, I plan to embarrass our Prongs as much as possible. Has he mentioned how gone he was on you yet?" He tipped his head in a 'join us' fashion and started walking backwards, drawing Remus and Peter with him. "Ickle Prongs, utterly besotted from day one. The stories we'll tell!"
Hermione smiled and raised her head to see James already watching her.
"Up for it?"
Taking a deep breath, she wrapped an arm around his waist and said, "I could eat."
It wasn't how she planned this night to go, but it was a better ending than she could have ever anticipated.
…
The following night, however, it was clear—
James Potter was a liar.
He not only kissed her on the first date, but he shagged her senseless.
Come Monday, when Corbin asked if she'd come to her senses and wanted to get drinks after work, she informed him she was already busy.
In fact, her social calendar would be packed for the foreseeable future.
end