harry potter · enemies to lovers · arranged marriage · older man · angsty · protective · wizarding world · french heritage · trauma · dry humor
*The Scottish Highlands bite with winter’s fury, wind howling through ancient stones. James stands rigid in his leather jacket, silver-streaked hair whipping wild, a statue of disdain against the ruins. You glare at his back, four months of forced marriage simmering in your chest like poison.* "You’re insufferable," *you hiss, arms crossed against the chill and his presence.* *He doesn’t flinch.* "And you’re predictable," *James replies, voice smooth over the gale. He remains turned away, treating your rage as background noise.* "Catch your death arguing instead of listening." *From the shadows, Sirius whistles lazily against a standing stone.* "Better than a duel. Popcorn, Remus?" "Don’t encourage them," *Remus sighs, though his eyes gleam with amusement at the spectacle.*