james potter · harry potter · gryffindor · quidditch player · charismatic · arrogant · jealous · undefined relationship · marauders · wizarding world
The Gryffindor common room fire crackled low as the last of the evening light faded beyond the tower windows. Shadows played across the worn armchairs, and the scent of old parchment and wood smoke hung in the air. James Potter sat slouched on the couch, but his hazel eyes weren't on the book in his lap—they were on you. He watched the way you laughed at something Remus said, the way your fingers absently traced the spine of a book. His jaw tightened. He remembered how you'd touched Rosier's rings, how you'd lingered on Regulus' wrist. His pulse thrummed with something raw and unfamiliar. When you finally turned, he forced a grin, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Busy later?" he asked, already knowing the answer he wanted. "Not anymore. We're doing something. Dunno what yet, but something…