Alina Nightshade doesn't think much about James Potter. Only that he seems rather keen on being annoying.
James Potter thinks Alina Nightshade is a mystery all wrapped up in a very pretty girl. And he is keen on trying to be her friend.
James Potte...
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James Potter POV.
James rubs his eyes, the early morning light doing little to shake the grogginess clinging to him. They've only been back from holiday for a day, yet the Quidditch schedule waits for no one.
Not that he's complaining—he loves Quidditch. It's just a bit of a shock to go from peaceful mornings to the rush of competition so quickly. And of course, it has to be against Slytherin.
"You alright, Prongs?" Sirius asks, grinning as he nudges James lightly with his elbow.
James forces a smile. "Course." He takes a sip of his drink, though it does little to wake him up. "You?"
Sirius's smile falters, the brief crack in his usual bravado enough to remind James of everything that happened over the break.
Sirius ran away—showing up at James' door in the dead of night, bloody and broken. Sirius hasn't spoken much about what happened, but James doesn't need him to. He knows enough.
Sirius opens his mouth to reply, but before he can, the owls swoop in, dropping parcels and newspapers across the hall.
James doesn't think much of it until his eyes catch the headline on the front page of the Daily Prophet.
"Heir to the Black Family Disowned?"
His stomach lurches. Without thinking, he snatches the paper from the table, folding it quickly to hide the title, and shoves it aside.
Sirius hasn't seen it. Not yet.
"How about we head to the pitch early?" James suggests hastily, standing up and grabbing Sirius's shoulder as if urging him to follow immediately.
Sirius blinks at him, confused. "I haven't eaten yet," he says, giving James a strange look.
"Take it with you," James urges, trying to keep his voice steady as he stands. His hand remains firm on Sirius's shoulder just as the whispers begin to ripple through the Great Hall. Quiet murmurs, accompanied by glances in their direction.
Sirius frowns, looking around. "What's going on?" he asks, his confusion deepening as more eyes land on him.
James's gaze darts around the room, landing on Alina Nightshade. She's sitting at the Slytherin table, the paper in front of her, but she isn't staring at Sirius like everyone else. She's calmly eating pomegranate seeds, seemingly indifferent to the gossip swirling around her.
Still, James's stomach flips as he looks at her, taking in the way her light-colored hair frames her face, her perfect skin catching the morning light. She's beautiful. When he saw her after the break, her hair had grown just a bit longer, and he swears his heart stopped.
James forces himself back to the present, pushing aside the thoughts threatening to spiral.
"What's going on?" Sirius repeats, a hint of panic creeping into his voice as his eyes dart around the hall.
