RUN - James Potter

Chapter 12

Tuesday's easily became her least favourite day of the week. Not because she had to read countless potions books, and not because she was making no progress on who Headmistress Hoggs was, but because of the same lurking hazel eyed boy... who always seemed to be down the same aisle. His back leaned against the back wall, his eyes reading over the black and white book he has been carrying since their first year.

But Antonella never complained. She would deal with his occasional wondering eyes, and sharp tongue, just to please Matilda. She would spend all night reading and translating old potions book to bring Matilda any comfort that she could carry; she would hold the sky for her. 

The three girls were thick as thieves, sisters from different mothers, and friends. They would always choose the hard road, if it meant the other got to sleep for an extra second. It was the least Antonella could do, help Antonella.

With this motivation, she made her way down the aisle dedicated to potion history and pulled 'Potions: The beginning of Ancient Alchemy', in hopes that a book dated back in the 14th century would quote the Corpus Potion Company. Following the usual steps of her Tuesday afternoon, she scanned the index of the old textbook to find the words she had been hoping for, praying for, Corpus LVII.

Holding the dusty book's spine in one hand, she used her fingers to delicately flip the pages - heading straight to page LVII. And there, she saw the heading she had been hoping to find for weeks.

THE ORIGINAL MASTER OF POTIONS

History of Corpus Potion Company.

Letting out a soft squeal of excitement. This was not like every other Tuesday, this was a first. With the book in her hand, she turned to lean her back on the bookcase she had found the book she had been searching for. 

Before she could begin to process the words on the parchment, her eyes ended up finding his ragged black hair. Just like every other Tuesdays, she risked her own pride to take a quick glance in his direction and she never knew why her eyes seemed addicted at the sight of him, all she knew was she did this every single Tuesday.

He was there. Always. Sitting on the floor between the too tall bookcases with his back rigid against the stone walls, and the only light coming from the lanterns that hanged from the ceiling. The cream papers seemed to glow in the reflection of his black square glasses, which highlighted the very visible bags under his eyes and the gold from his Gryffindor tie (hung loose just like Sirius Black) twinkled.

However, unlike every other Tuesday. She was caught.

She hadn't even realised she had been staring for so long, until he raised his eyes from the pages to her own. His lip already curled, as if he anticipate for her to gawk at him. Cocky bastard, she thought.

"Y'know I've already offered a photo-"

Turning around quickly to avoid his gaze, she didn't realise until it was too late, that she had hit the bookcase too hard. As sturdy as wood could ever be, it was no match against Antonella attempting to avoid meeting James Potter's eyes - or anyone, really, as they were fragile from their old age. The bookcase gave way and collapsed, books falling and covering Antonella... but not smothering her.

She wished she was smothered. That mean she wouldn't of heard James Potter's laugh.

The crashing of books and wood would not alerted anyone, as the furniture was charmed to make no noise. A new charm placed in the library to stop the chairs from squeaking and the books from thumping loudly as they fell to the floor. Nor would Antonella's sharp cry be heard as she was too far back in the library for anyone to be alerted. No one would find them, as no one took any pleasure in the history of Potions, given the exception of Severus Snape, who's cursive handwriting was always written in the log books.