Title: If Wishes Were Horses
Author: sdk
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing/Characters: James Sirius/Hermione, James Sirius/his hand
Rating: R
Length/Word Count: Drabble, 100x7
Warnings/Content: potential infidelity if you squint, cross-gen (James is of age)
Summary: James isn't supposed to be interested, not like that. Not in her.
Notes: Written for Round 8 of Daisy Chain Drabbles and for the following hp_nextgen100 prompts: dreams, the burrow, rain, charms, imagination, and James Sirius Potter. I refer to Hermione as Hermione Granger, because I believe she'd keep her last name when marrying, however you can interpret this as she's divorced and went back to her maiden name if you wish. Special thanks to torino10154 for looking this over for me! And now these notes are longer than the fic itself, so I'll shut it. <3
Disclaimer: The following is based on fictional characters I don't own doing fictional things in a fictional world I did not create. No copyright infringement intended.


If Wishes Were Horses

James isn't supposed to be interested, not like that. Not in her. If they find out, Al will remind him she's their aunt and Lily will call him disgusting, and they'll both be right, so of course they don't know; there are few secrets between him and his siblings, but this is one James keeps closely guarded and will never reveal.

Because the fact that she's their aunt doesn't stop James' imagination from racing in the dead of night when he's got one hand under the covers, stroking and stroking, biting his lip to keep from moaning her name.

Hermione.

~

He calls her Aunt Hermione at the Burrow or just Hermione when they're alone. She says he's of age now and can use her given name. But at Hogwarts she always insists on Professor Granger, even with her own kids. This doesn't change just because James has finished school.

James will visit one Hogsmeade weekend when his cousins are out of the castle. He'll find her in the Charms classroom buried under a stack of essays, hair extra frazzled with all the magic buzzing in the air. He'll drop his voice and say, “Professor Granger.” He'll catch her blushing.

~

James will bend her over her own desk, parchment flying as she scrambles for purchase against the hard wood. He'll shove her robes up around her waist and twist his fingers in her curly locks and stuff his hand in her shirt and she'll chant his name, “Jamie, Jamie, Jamie-” And he'll tell her what a naughty professor she is and show her how well he's learned his Vanishing charms, and their clothes will disappear with a thought and—

No. That isn't right. James needs to slow down. Take his time. She deserves better. Hermione Granger should be wooed.

~

They'll go on a picnic. James will take her to his favourite spot on the other side of the lake where the trees give them privacy, where other students rarely go.

James will say something witty and Hermione will give him one of her rare smiles. A real one, too, like he's a proper grown-up worthy of her attention, not just an indulging quirk of her lips and a pat on his head like he's still a firstie.

It will start to rain, just a light drizzle. She'll cast a spell to keep them both dry, but he'll stop her.

~

James likes the rain. He likes how it splashes on her blouse, turning pinpricks of white to see-through cotton, how it rolls down her skin, riding the swell of her breasts and disappearing in her cleavage. She'll catch him looking and laugh, brushing damp fringe from his face.

She'll kiss him. Droplets of rain will slide between their lips. His shirt will cling to his skin as she pushes it up over his stomach and chest and eventually tears it off. He'll taste the rain on her tongue when she kisses him deeper and presses him to the blanket-covered ground.

~

It won't be like his dreams where things are rushed and he's overexcited and comes before they've even begun.

He'll take his time. She'll show him how she likes to be touched, guiding his hands to her breasts, nipples hard against his palms.

She'll start out riding him slowly, torturing him with a lazy rhythm. She'll throw her head back with a sigh, hair spilling down over her shoulders, lips red and wet and parted. She'll moan his name. He won't be able to resist flipping them over, and he'll thrust and thrust and she'll beg harder—please--faster--more--

~

James spills himself over his fist and sinks into his bed, panting. He closes his eyes and tries to recapture the moment, but the image of Hermione beneath him fades away as his orgasm subsides.

His breathing slows. When he starts to feel sticky, he grabs his wand and spells the mess away.

Tomorrow is Sunday. He'll go to the Burrow for Sunday night dinner and she'll be there.

James will come up with an excuse to get her alone, a place where no one will see them. Arousal pools in his belly. His cock stirs to life once more...



-Fin-







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