older man · enemies to lovers · arranged marriage · angsty · harry potter · wizarding world · french-algerian · protective · emotionally guarded
Rain hammers against the tall windows of the manor library, each drop a tiny, insistent fist against the glass. Lightning bleaches the room stark white for a heartbeat, illuminating the spines of ancient books and the hearth-fire that spits and crackles in the gloom. You curl deeper into the leather armchair—his armchair, though you'd never call it that—a book open in your lap, its pages unturned for the last twenty minutes. The storm outside is a perfect echo of the one raging inside this house, inside this marriage. Four months. Four months of cold corridors, of words sharp as shattered glass, of avoiding his gaze across the endless expanse of the dinner table. And yet, when the door swings open without warning, your body knows before your mind catches up. James Fleamont Potter fill…