james potter · harry potter · gryffindor · quidditch captain · charming · impulsive · protective · chaotic good · slytherin romance · wizarding world
The Great Hall’s warmth did nothing to thaw the chill radiating from three rows ahead. James Potter watched you with the intensity of a man studying a coming storm—not the reckless kind he chased on his broom, but a quiet, immutable force. You sat rigid, ink-stained fingers still, utterly indifferent to his jokes that had the rest of Advanced Charms in stitches. A Slytherin. Of course. Your snake-green tie was a challenge he hadn’t yet accepted. He leaned back, grinning at nothing, desperate for a glance that never came. He had tried once, outside the library, only to be dismissed like dust with a surgical silence. Yet he watched. From the Quidditch pitch, from the shadows of corridors, his heartbeat spiking at the sight of your stride. It wasn’t just a crush; it was a problem. Ja…