Mother

It had been a beautiful, clear day in November, even if it would be dark soon. But James wanted to scream. Maybe he could have 3 months ago, when his father proposed. Maybe he could have yesterday, even. The wedding would probably still be happening, but his voice would be heard. But he couldn't possibly. Not now, when Hermione Granger was walking down the aisle. Not now, when his father was smiling brightly at her, as if she were the only one in the world. James thought his voice would be drowned.

A quick glance at his mother told him that she, too, was less than thrilled. Quite like the rest of the family. However, no one dared open their mouth then, and no one would open their mouth now. Just like him.

He looked at Hermione, the woman who was about to become his stepmother, and thought of everything leading towards this moment. How that they gotten here?

Hermione's and uncle's divorce was something James could hardly remember, but James remembered his mum and dad's very well. (It was years ago 8, and he was 8 and in muggle school, but it was too big of a thing to not remember. Al remembered some things, and Lily didn't remember the actual divorce. But she recalled the fights and arguments, and she knew the afterwards just as well as he and Al.) He often thought that Hemione was the cause of it, though he never said. His mum and dad had simply said that they weren't right for each other anymore. And it was kind of true, but they were right for each other enough before Hermione had come back from Australia.

Burying the annoyance that threatened to surface, James turned his attention towards his brother and sister. James sat between them at the end of the row towards the aisle, with Lily on his left, Al on his right. He knew what they were thinking. He was thinking the same thing. He reached out and held one hand from each sibling. He had to be the rock that they needed, lest they all sunk like abandoned ships.

Still aware of the very light whispers and the cameras flashing in Hermione's direction, they all looked at each other. Silently, the three of them turned to Hermione, who was growing closer, just as the pit in James' stomach grew bigger.

And then, it was like time stopped for the four of them. Hermione had taken her eyes and looked upon them.

Her smile seemed to grow and reach each ear. Her eyes grew softer, if that were even possible, and her head titled slightly towards them.

Everything came running back through James' mind. It was like a dam had burst, and he couldn't help the flood. So, he just let it flow.

James, at 9 years old, was at his football match. He had just gotten off the field and was taking a water break. The game was more than halfway over, and James hadn't seen his dad's green eyes and unruly hair. Or his mother's copper hair and freckles. He had refrained from checking while he was playing. He needed to keep his concentration, and the possibility of disappointment and distraction was too great of a risk. But now, James supposed, since he was off the field, it might be ok to check.

His eyes scanned the crowd, hoping to see his dad, mom, and younger siblings. But that's not exactly what he got. Instead, his eyes met Hermione, supporting his team's colors, and a big smile on her face. Al and Lily were seated beside her, both waving at him frantically.

Hermione silently mouthed, "good job!" at him, and he felt uncomfortable. He didn't really want her there. He knew there was something going on between her and his dad, and he would much rather have his own mum there. But she was nowhere to be seen at the moment, and dad probably wasn't any closer. Hermione was here, though.

James wasn't really sure why. Hermione had a problem of ending up in places where she didn't need to be. From what he knew, Hermione used to be his aunt, when she was with Uncle Ron. But as he heard from Uncle George, that was a long time ago. She had basically disappeared, and a little over a year ago, she came back.