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Hermione looked at herself in the mirror. Tight skinny jeans. She had fallen in love with them in the muggle store. Lavender had pushed her to try them, ignoring Hermione’s insecurities about such clothes on her skin. And when she saw herself in the light jeans and the golden velour track jacket, she felt powerful. The same feeling that she sensed now, looking at the mirror in her bedroom. She could conquer the world.
Her phone rang on the bedside table, and Hermione rushed to get it. A message from Harry popped up. Dad’s coming to the party. Sorry.
“Fuck,” Hermione let herself fall on top of her bed. Just what she needed. Celebrating Harry’s birthday, with drinking games and everything, with James bloody Potter. One of the most handsome men she had ever seen. His salt and pepper hair gave him such charm. “Maybe I should change, put on one of those baggy t-shirts.”
“No!” her roommate, Lav, appeared at the door. “You’re going like that! Look at the mirror again and see how sexy you look! Do you like that outfit?”
“Yes…” she whispered.
“Then get out of the door and go to Potter’s before I petrify you and take you there myself!” the other girl threatened.
“Okay, okay! I’m going! See you later,” Hermione said, kissing Lav’s cheek.
“I would be much happier if you found somewhere and someone to sleep with,” the blonde winked, slapping Hermione’s arse. “Gorgeous! Delicious!”
“You’re a menace, Lavender Brown!” the Gryffindor chuckled, but her self-esteem was bigger than Malfoy’s ego had ever been.
*****
Hermione should have stopped after the 4th cider, but they were so delicious and she was having so much fun with her friends that she couldn’t say no when Harry’s dad, James, offered her one more Strongbow bottle.
“Who’s up for a nice fun game of Never Have I Ever, Veritaserum version?” Seamus asked.
Hermione thought about saying goodbye to Harry and going home, playing with truth serum wasn’t really on her plans, but Ron had pleaded with those blue eyes and she ended up sitting between Neville and Harry in the circle, and on the sofa across from her, James Potter.
“You know the rules, this shot is spiked with a few drops of Veritaserum that will make you say the truth for the next hour,” George Weasley winked as his brother levitated a little shot glass to each of the twenty guests, most of which had played Quidditch with the birthday boy, either at Hogwarts or in his professional team.
Angelina rolled her eyes. “Are you sure these will only last one hour? Last time it lasted for longer than a day.”
“Yes, Angie! We corrected the formulation!” Fred explained. “One hour, we promise.”
“It better, or we’ll come for you,” Alicia said, drowning her glass, “smooth and refreshing. Touch of mint?”
Hermione took a sip of hers, and it was indeed a refreshing cocktail, so she finished it, before putting her shot glass down, and picking the bottle of cider. She had almost finished her drink, when Neville said, “Never have I ever had a crush on my best friend’s parents.”
Everyone chuckled, and some of her friends quickly drowned their glasses. “That’s it. The game is over when Neville starts with these stupid statements. Everyone looked at the parents of a friend and thought, Hot, I would let them do anything to me.” Oliver Wood rolled his eyes, finishing his beer.
But Hermione didn’t listen to the rest of the conversation, because her eyes were glued to James’s dark ones. He was studying her, his eyes moving from the bottle to her lips. Was he waiting for her to drink?
“Anyone up for a quick game of Drunk Quidditch?” Pucey, who played with Harry nowadays in the Wasps, asked and most of them got up in the direction of the broom shed.
“Not going to play, Mr Potter?” Neville asked, always so polite.
James shook his head. “My days of playing with the kids are over. But you go, Nev. No, I saw you train with your parents. You’re better than Frank was back in school.”
Neville nodded, squeezing Hermione’s shoulder before running after the others, leaving her and the older man alone. “So, Hermione, are you going to take a sip or not? Have you ever had a crush on your friend’s dad?”
The brunette kept her eyes on his as she brought the apple cider to her lips, finishing the bubbly liquid. “I think that answers your question, James.”
He licked his lower lip and gulped. Hermione was distracted by his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “You’re a grownup, Hermione, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am. I’m an independent woman, an independent witch.”
“Good, Hermione. Sometimes I think that Lily and I waited too long to divorce, and we spoiled Harry too much, and he doesn’t know how to be a grownup, how to make his own choices.” James confessed, looking over his shoulder at the group playing Quidditch.
The younger Gryffindor wasn’t sure what propelled her to say the following words, but she couldn’t stop them. “What about you, James? Do you make your own choices?”
“My family and friends would just say that my choices would get me into trouble. That could ruin everything,” he confessed, looking at her with a sad smile.
Hermione nodded, understanding his fears. “I think I’m going home. Thank you for company, James,” she got to her feet, but trembled on her knees and everything around her was dizzy. God, had she drunk too much?
“Oh, there, champion! You can’t apparate or use the Floo like that. We have extra rooms. Let’s get you upstairs and have a nap. Yeah?” he asked, helping her to her feet.
“I don’t want to bother you,” she murmured.
He winked, leading her inside. “No bother, Hermione. Let’s go, gorgeous.”
She recognised the yellow bedroom from other sleepovers at the Potter’s. It was so beautiful; she loved the sunflowers on the wall so much. They were James’ mother’s favourite flower. And Hermione had never shared it with anyone, but they were her favourite flower as well.
“I like it here,” she murmured, letting her head hit the pillow. She had never said it out loud, and she would blame the truth potion still in her bloodstream.
“You do?” he asked, unbuckling her sandals and letting them by the door, before summoning a quilt from the closet.
“You’re so handsome, and kind, and good, and funny… and I’m so young,” Hermione pouted, her eyes closed.
“You’re not that young, Hermione,” James winked, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Do you want a potion, or just rest?”
“Rest, thank you, James. I love you,” the Gryffindor witch murmured, hiding her face in the pillow.
“Sleep tight, Hermione.”
*****
Hermione didn’t understand why she was waking up with sunlight hitting her directly in her eyes. Why? She had changed the position of her bed so that wouldn’t ever happen again.
She hid her face in the pillow, but instead of the usual coconut of her fabric softener, it smelled like jasmine instead. The Gryffindor sat up in bed and she knew exactly where she was. The Potter’s. She had never come home after the party. At least she was still wearing her jeans and velvet top, even if the zipper had ripped itself during the night and now she could see her sheer black bra.
There was a knock on the door, and Hermione reached for the quilt, hoping to preserve some modesty. “Hermione, it’s James. Brought coffee and a hangover potion.”
The witch panicked, reaching for her wand. Her hair was probably a mess, but there was nothing she could do to it in such a short time. So instead, she vanished her makeup and cast a fresh breath spell. “Come in.”
The older Gryffindor made his way inside, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs and a tower of buttered golden toast. His embarrassed smile and blush brought some other memories to Hermione’s mind. “No…” she murmured, making him stop a few steps from the bed.
“Sorry, I can come back later…”
“Fuck, Merlin.” she covered her face with her hands. “I’m sorry, I said things about you, to you, yesterday that was so inappropriate.”
James chuckled, but it was not with the intention to hurt her, it was a gentle laugh as he approached the bed once again. “Were they lies? The things you said?”
Hermione shook her head, pointing to him, “how could they be lies? Have you looked at the mirror lately? And you’re so good, bringing me coffee and food. And smart! You think no one knows that they think you’re just a joker, but you’re so intelligent and your magic is powerful.”
“If Marlene was here, she would scream that someone has a crush. Merlin, that woman was a menace. She would tease me mercilessly....” he shook his head.
“About what?”
“About liking a smart witch, 20 years younger than me-”
“Not even 19 and half years…” she corrected with a smirk.
“Oh, so you know this witch?” James winked, taking a sip from his mug. “Well, if you ever meet with her, can you tell her that I would love to have a cuppa with her?”
Hermione nodded, reaching for her own mug, and taking a sip. Delicious, smooth but still tangy, like she enjoyed it. “What would you tell her on that date?”
“That even if we have a big age gap, I don’t think that matters at all… That I think we could make a good pairing if we tried,” he explained. “That we are… compatible.”
“And would you kiss her on the first date?”
“If she wanted…” The Gryffindor smiled hearing his words. She took a deep breath and one more gulp of coffee, before leaning forward and brushing her lips against his. They were softer than she imagined, and there was a scar on his bottom lip that she had never noticed before.
James cradled the back of her head gently, one hand playing with her hair. “So soft, Hermione. Everything is so soft and gentle with you, but I know there’s a fire there. I can’t wait to see it.”
“What about you, James? Do you have a fire to match mine or will I burn alone?” she asked, no longer embarrassed by her little crush. Hermione just wanted more of him.
The older wizard smiled, stroking her cheek gently. “I’ll be here to keep your fire alive, Hermione. I promise… and I think what is needed is another kiss.”
“I think you’re correct, Mr Potter. That sounds quite wonderful and just what I need,” she said, leaning forward to brush her nose against his, before claiming his lips on hers. "I said the L-Word yesterday, didn't I?" Hermione whispered, not pulling away.
"You did, but we can talk about that later and just snog for now... maybe I will let it slip soon as well," he winked, pulling her on top of him, making Hermione giggle.
At that moment, being with James, it was like a dream come true. The man that she had been infatuated with for months also had a crush on her. And that he was looking forward to making it work.
It was perfect.