I'm back! After an arduous and highly emotional senior marching season, I am glad to say that I am back! I've missed all of you dearly! The song in this chapter is "Always" by Panic! at the Disco. Please enjoy and don't forget to review! P.S. There were spacing issues that occurred: I apologize profusely.
James stretched languorously, letting his muscles tighten and flex. Auror training had done wonders for him. He’d gone from scrawny yet charming to ripped and seductive in months. Quidditch had helped only minutely. Women had flocked to him before, but now they came to him like lemmings to a cliff. He felt a warm, soft object pressed against his left side, trapping his arm. Rolling onto his back, he opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was the room’s brightness. Everything was white, and the sun coming in through the open balcony doors was only making things brighter. The lamé drapes that hung from the door and the canopy bed swung gently in the breeze. He looked over to the chair in the corner, where his black tuxedo lay all over it. Upon closer inspection, he found a white ballgown on the ground. James sat up suddenly, removing his arm from underneath the warmth.
He’d gotten married yesterday. James Potter, playboy, heartthrob of the Wizarding World, had gotten married. The memories of the previous night bombarded him. He’d married the love of his life. He remembered the ceremony and surprising her with his own vows. He remembered her walking down the aisle, and he’d wanted to pass out from her beauty. She was so beautiful, and her father and himself were blubbering like idiots. Their mutual friend presided over the ceremony, and at the end, had given them a huge pause to tease James. He’d kissed her with so much passion that people started coughing. And the reception had gone off without hitch. The food was delicious, the music was great. His personal favourite part was taking off her garter - a primarily American tradition, but he’d been all too happy to oblige. He’d gotten a preview of what he’d get that night.
James glanced over his left shoulder, smiling. There was his wife, his beautiful goddess. She was curled up under the plush white comforter, her normally straight hair still tightly curled. She was as beautiful. Her tiny yet curvy frame fit perfectly with his. He leaned over her, sweeping her hair away from her shoulder and neck. Dipping his head, he began leaving sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along her jawline. By the time he got to where her pulse was, she was moaning softly with pleasure. Her eyes flutter open, finding him. Her eyes were filled with lust and love. He moved her to her back so that he could look at her.
“Good morning, Mrs. Potter,” he murmured. His voice was husky and deep. She smiled up at him.
“Good morning, husband,” she said. Her voice sent shivers down his spine. She ran her perfectly manicured fingers over the sensitive spot on his neck. She knew just which buttons to push.
After about thirty minutes, the couple had calmed down enough to just admire each other. His wife began humming a song as she ran her fingers through James’s hair. Chuckling, he grabbed her hand, placing a kiss on her palm.
“What are you singing, Maggie?” She just smiled at him before singing the chorus of the song.
“It was always you, falling for me, now there’s always time, calling for me…”
“Panic! at the Disco, love? Really?” She just shook her head, rolling her eyes.
“If you don’t like it, I’ll stop singing,” she threatened. That shut James up. He kissed her nose. She began to speak again, but he wasn’t paying attention. He was too busy admiring his wife. Suddenly, he heard something odd - a soft, feminine voice.
He sat up, looking around. It sounded like Maggie’s voice. But she was sitting right there, in front of him.
James, wake up…
“James?” He turned back to his wife, who was looking at him in concern. He shrugged it off, pulling his wife into his side, kissing her…
James woke up with a start as he found himself kissing the same woman who’d starred in his dream. Bugger. He pulled away slowly, seeing the shock on her face. The two turned away from each other, both blushing. He thought about what had just transpired.
Maggie was not his. He was her fucking bodyguard, for Merlin’s sake. He shouldn’t be feeling this way about her. It’s completely unconventional, and unprofessional. His father would have his head. Besides, James Potter did not settle down, let alone fall in love. It was never in his plan. He was too into his job, and one night stands. Women were fine with that.
...But why did he feel so disappointed about it all? He didn’t love her. He couldn't. For one thing, it was way too soon. They'd only known each other for a week, for Merlin's sake! He also never had a steady relationship. Witch Weekly was going to have a field day.
He looked at her again. She was scrawling in a notebook, her black sweater rolled up to her forearms. She had a crease in her eyebrows as she worked - on what, he wasn’t sure. Her brown hair was in loose curls, with a red knit cap on top. Her makeup was minimal, making her even more beautiful. The light pouring in from the plane’s window made an ethereal glow cast upon her. No wonder he’d dreamt about her. As if she could sense him, she turned back to him.
“What?” She asked, curious. He shook his head, looking at the book in his lap. Howl by Michael Winges, which was one of his favorites. It was surprisingly good for a romance novel - a perfect balance between romance and action, with a little bit of paranormal in it. He saw Maggie smiling out of the corner of his eye. It was his turn.
“What?” She opened her mouth to respond, but the captain came on, announcing their arrival into Heathrow. She closed her notebook and pen, handing them over to James. He’s volunteered to be the pack mule for the trip out. Once he’d placed the items in the bag, he looked at her expectantly. “You were about to say something?”
“Oh. I was going to tell you that I know the author,” she said with a smug smile. “She’s fabulous.”
“Michael Winges is male. You realize that, right?”
“Actually,” the woman across the aisle to James said. “Michael Winges is female. Have you not read the bio?” Before he could answer, the woman procured her copy of Howl, handing it to him. He looked at her: she was older, maybe in her thirties or forties. Definitely a businesswoman. Blonde. He was about to send her a wink out of instinct but thought better of it. He opened the well-worn book to the back, and a black and white picture of a woman in a mask that covered half her face looked back up at him. She had dark hair and dark, playful eyes - that was all he could tell. He handed the novel back to the woman, thanking her. She had finally stuffed it away as they landed. They arrived at the gate soon afterward. Maggie stood up as soon as the sign came off, her head barely touching the overhead compartments. James pulled out his knapsack and the small duffel that she had brought as her carry on. He stepped out of the way to let her through. When she’d tried to grab her bag, he pulled it out of her way. Sighing, she took her purse and jacket and walked out in front of him. Which was a poor decision on his part. She just had to wear those jeans, and those heels. He bit his lip, feeling his pants grow tighter. The woman next to him chuckled.
“Sweetheart, you have it bad.” Then she pushed him in the direction of the exit.
Maggie waited for him at the exit, looking around her in awe. The look made him think of the dream that he’d had. Shaking his head, he walked over to his fake fiancée slowly, the bags slung over his shoulder. He liked the smile on her face. He really had to stop thinking about her in a romantic setting. She turned to him expectantly.
“Where to, honey?” She said. James sighed before pointing towards the sign that said “Baggage Claim.” She blushed, nodding, and started walking ahead. Again, he stared after her, following the way her slight curves filled her sweater and her jeans quite nicely. And the heels… she was now up to his ear in heels, as opposed to at his shoulder at normal height. Shaking his head once again, he ran to catch up to her.
“How do you know Michael Winges?” He asked, trying to keep his voice neutral. She smirked playfully at him.
“She and I are rather close,” she said. He looked into her eyes, and it clicked. Maggie suddenly looked panicked and brought her hand up to cover his mouth. They had stopped walking, and people were currently bumping into them, but neither cared. “Don’t say anything,” she whispered. He nodded slowly, numbly. Sighing, she let go of him and started walking again. “I can show you the original manuscript if you’d like,” she said nonchalantly. This time James started fumbling for words. He sounded like he was a little kid.
“You mean - I can’t - what -”
“Don’t. Say. Anything,” she hissed. He shut his mouth, but the excitement was almost too much. They arrived at their respective Baggage Carousel, and Maggie paid for a cart for their bags. James had sent most of her items over ahead of time. The only things that they did bring were two of her suitcases and Tucker, the pitbull. Unfortunately, the airline hadn’t let Tucker on the actual flight - “Pitbulls are not allowed to sit on the plane, ma’am. They scare people.” - so they’d had to put him in a kennel underneath. Maggie had cried at first. Now, she seemed like she was about to burst from her anxiety. As soon as she saw the carrier, she rushed over to grab it. A high-pitched bark emitted from the depths of the cage, indicating that Tucker was, in fact, quite alive. She opened the carrier, allowing the small, blue-grey dog out. It lapped at her face, making her laugh. People stared at her, James included (albeit for a different reason). But she didn’t care: all she could think of was the pup in her arms. She babbled to the puppy like it was a human baby. “Hey, there, baby! Mama was so worried about you! Daddy was silly the whole ride.”
James heard this last part as he grabbed one of the suitcases. It made him pause and look at the woman before him. She was holding the dog in her arms as it gnawed on her fingers. She looked up at him, a joyful gleam in her eyes. He couldn’t help but smile at the scene. Her joy was contagious - the whole vicinity around her was smiling at her. She just had that kind of effect.
“Daddy heard me, didn’t he?”
“I’m ‘Daddy’ now?” He asked. Maggie rolled her eyes.
“Of course you are. It’s our dog, James,” she said as if this information was obvious. In the week that he’d known her, he’d learned that he should just learn to accept things that she said. She turned back to the puppy, now lolling its head over her arm as she scratched its tiny belly. As soon as the last bag was picked up, they headed out to the car that James had. She’d tried, yet again, to take some of the things from James, but he stopped her, telling her to just take care of Tucker.
“You have your hands full with the pup,” he said. She seemed uncertain, but then Tucker decided to whiny when he saw food. She stopped at a little sandwich shop, asking for some grilled chicken sandwich with nothing on it and a water in a little cup. James paid for it before she could - he didn’t know why. He just did it. The puppy consumed the food and water happily, tail wagging the entire time. As soon as it was done, the couple traveled towards the garage. James put everything into the trunk - he’d used magic to expand the trunk space. She put Tucker in the back seat, finding an old newspaper to have him sit on. Everything was settled in a couple of minutes, and they were on their way.
James liked to drive faster than what was considered legal, but he never got caught. The sheer speed terrified Maggie, though, as they sped down the M25 towards Surrey.
“James, you’re speeding,” she whispered, gripping the seat. He chuckled, not decelerating in the least.
“It’ll get us home faster,” he said, pressing on the gas again. Tucker was asleep in the back seat. Maggie turned to look at the puppy, smiling softly. “Do you like him,” he asked. She turned back around to look at James.
“I love him,” she said softly. “Thank you, by the way.” He looked at her briefly before turning his eyes back to the road.
“Why do you say that?”
“You gave me the pet that I’ve always wanted,” she explained. “I could never get one because of my schedule, but you gave one to me. Thank you.” James blushed - for no reason - at this, ducking his head.
“You’re welcome,” was his sheepish response.
They arrived at James’s small townhouse in record time. Once they’d parked, James looked at Maggie who was staring at the townhouse. “Welcome home, love,” he said softly. She flinched, and James had enough. “Okay, what is wrong with calling you ‘love?’” She sighed, pulling her cap from her head.
“My ex called me that,” she said softly. That startled James - he thought it was a primarily British thing to say. “He was… not a nice guy… if you know what I mean.” He nodded but didn’t turn away.
“Maggie, you need to get over this,” he said. “You have to get used to it. It’s what I’m going to call you from now on. So get used to it.” She nodded before exiting the vehicle. He sighed, exiting after her. She took the puppy up to the front of the house. Making sure that no one was looking, James pulled out his wand and made the suitcases disappear into the house. He hoped that she could handle sleeping in the same bed as him. It was part of the assignment - at least, he'd told himself that. He walked to the front door, fishing in his pocket for his key. He finally reached it when he got to the top step. He reached up to find the spare key and handed it to her. She placed the key in her purse as James unlocked the door. As soon as the door opened, he scooped her up bridal style. Again, he had no idea what he was doing; he knew he just had to do it. She squealed as her feet were swept from underneath her.
"What the hell, James?" She almost dropped Tucker, who barked happily from all of the excitement. He shrugged, kissing her on the lips.
"We need to keep up appearances," he said, stepping into the entryway, looking around. The living room and kitchen to the right and steps to the left, leading to the second floor. He set her down and went back to the mailbox, procuring the mail. He rifled through it, checking on what he'd missed. A couple of magazines, a few letters of congratulations, and a letter from the Auror's office. He found it strange that they would contact him: he was supposed to keep a low profile. Placing the rest of the mail on the table in the kitchen, he opened the letter began to read it.
We have some news about your situation. Your disguise may be compromised - someone overheard you speaking at the airport in America. Please take this marriage license filled out before Miss Frace begins teaching school at Hogwarts.
Head of the Auror Office
Ministry of Magic
P.S. Congratulations, Son.
"Shit," he said, throwing the letter and delving into the envelope. He produced two silver rings - one larger than the other. "Fucking Merlin's Beard."
"What's wrong," Maggie said as she entered the room. She saw the rings and crossed her arms over her chest. "Let me guess - our cover was blown?"
"No - well, kind of," he said. "Someone may have overheard us in America, so the Office wants us to up the ante." She remained silent for a moment, thinking. After a long sigh, she came closer.
"Well, looks like we have a wedding to plan." James blanched.
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