Hero of the Story || James Potter x Hermione Granger Fanfiction

30 | it was a pretty good bad idea, wasn't it though?

Her eyes widened a little as she stared back at the young witch in front of her. Hermione was starting to look like her old self – the old Hermione Granger – save for her blue eyes, of course. But the curves she'd been acquainted with before were now starting to develop on her adolescent body, perfectly hugging the pretty dress Anya had chosen for her.

"Well, you're a sight for sore eyes."

She twirled around and shyly smiled at her mother, whose blue eyes were glittering appreciatively at Hermione's look.

"Isn't it a little too early to prepare?" Anya asked.

Hermione lightly blushed. "I have nothing else to do," she quickly replied.

Anya grinned brightly at the younger witch and walked towards her. "He'll think you're lovely, sweetheart," she said, brushing Hermione's curls away. "There's no need to fret about it."

The brunette snorted lightly, knowing full well that James would have so much fun making her flustered later. Anya reached for her straps and tightened the knot. "We don't want any accidents from happening now, do we?" her mother cheekily asked, quirking an eyebrow when Hermione's cheeks reddened once more.

Anya stayed in her bedroom for a few more hours, trying to tame Hermione's hair until it was as passable as it could get. The Selwyn hair was a force to be reckoned with and the mother and daughter duo had already accepted that it would forever be as wild as their tempers.

Her mother pulled her out of her room when there were only two hours left before James arrived. Hermione distracted herself from her thoughts about the horcrux hunt tomorrow and James' impending arrival by helping Anya prepare their dinner for tonight.

Peter soon joined them, eyes comically widening when his gaze landed on Hermione. "Whoa," he breathed out. Hermione rolled her eyes at his ridiculous reaction, the corner of her lips twitching in amusement. "Maybe I'm a bit underdressed."

"This night isn't about you, love," Anya teased, noting disapprovingly at Peter's Muggle, flared jeans and a random shirt he'd fished out from his cabinet. "There's no need to change."

Six pm was steadily approaching and all thoughts about her mission with Regulus tomorrow were pushed to the very back of her mind. Her nervousness and anticipation for seeing James that night consumed her whole, distracting her all the more. Anya had to shoo her out of the kitchen lest she ruined their dinner for that night, and insisted that she waited in their sitting room for James' arrival.

Although the Potter Manor was connected to their floo, James told her he'd wanted to apparate instead. "I'm curious about your neighbourhood," he explained in his letter. It was amusing how none of Peter's friends had ever been to their house, even after seven years of solid friendship. Hermione had admittedly never seen where Harry lived, instead spending most of her time at the Burrow. Perhaps Peter knew that since he was best friends with a Pureblood heir, bordering Wizarding Royalty honestly, then there was no point inviting them over to their plain, Muggle home.

Hermione bolted onto her feet when their doorbell rang cheerily. She smoothed down her dress and tried to brush her curls away from her face before taking a mighty breath and approaching the door.

She gingerly opened the door and peeked outside, heart fluttering wildly inside her chest upon seeing James waiting outside. Her mouth ran dry as her eyes scanned his outfit – he had opted to wear Muggle brown corduroys with a matching denim jacket, donned over a plain, white shirt. This was the most Muggle she had seen James, but Merlin, he was still devastatingly attractive.

"Aren't you going to let me in, Whiskers?" he asked, smirking at her blatant staring.

"Right, of course," she said, stepping aside to open the door wider. She brushed an errant curl away from her face and smiled. "Hi."