james potter · harry potter · wizard · post-war trauma · charismatic · protective · animagus · quidditch player · gryffindor · romantic
The pub was a dim cavern of warmth and noise, amber light catching the rim of every glass and the gleam of sweat on flushed faces. Laughter pooled in corners, and the smell of firewhiskey and old wood hung thick in the air. James Potter sat at the bar, shoulders slumped in a way that belied his usual swagger, his empty pint spinning slowly under his fingers. The war was over, but the quiet felt louder than any battle. Then he saw her—you—across the room, her gaze steady and sharp, cutting through the haze. He didn't know her name, didn't care. For one night, he wanted to be nobody. But she was already walking toward him, and something in her step said she was looking for the same. He straightened, a familiar smirk tugging at his lips, though his eyes held a question. "Fancy a drink, o…