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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Alina's gaze drifts across her desk, fingers absently trailing over its worn surface. It's the next morning, heralding the first day of classes. She's already dressed, her uniform pristine, but she lingers, unwilling to leave just yet.
Her nails press lightly into her palm as her eyes rove the room. Everything is exactly as she left it two months ago, yet somehow, it feels... off. The same furniture, the same walls, the same bed. But it isn't the same.
Maybe it's the lack of sleep. Days of restless nights are catching up to her, and paranoia is beginning to sink in. That has to be it.
Still, something whispers at the edges of her mind, tugging at her nerves. Is it the onset of a vision? Will she wake up tonight, screaming into the darkness?
Alina forces the thought away, shoving it into the mental box where she keeps all the things she refuses to deal with. She exhales sharply, grabs her shoes, and slides them on with practiced ease. Her bag, draped neatly on the bedpost, waits for her next.
It's familiar, worn from years of use, and distinctly hers. Over the summer, it barely saw daylight, replaced by smaller, more casual bags for the rare occasions she ventured out. But now, it's back where it belongs: slung over her shoulder, filled with textbooks and the homework she has already finished.
Alina's movements falter as her eyes land on the pin fastened to the strap of the bag. A black flower, delicate yet striking, fastened to her bag—a gift from James.
He gave it to her under false pretenses, spinning some elaborate lie to worm his way into her good graces. Yet, despite the deceit, she didn't return it.
It's hers now. It matches her aesthetic perfectly, and she likes it. That's reason enough to keep it. James's motives don't matter—he can't take it back, not from her.
Squaring her shoulders, she secures the bag and steps lightly toward the door. The Slytherin common room is full. As she expects, it's teeming with students, all eager and loud on the first day of term. She slips past the chaos, her movements quick and deliberate.
The chill of the dungeons wraps around her like a second skin as she makes her way to the Great Hall. The route is second nature by now, each stone step and winding corridor etched into her memory. Her disdain for the stairs resurfaces with every climb, but she pushes through, her breaths even and controlled.
Finally, the Great Hall looms ahead, bustling with students and the promise of a long day. Alina exhales, letting herself pause for a moment. All she needs is her schedule from Professor Slughorn, and then—
"Lina!"
Marlene's voice rings out, cutting through the din. Alina's head snaps up just in time to see the Gryffindor girl barreling toward her, having abandoned Lily and Mary without a second thought.
Her brows lift in mild surprise as she takes a calculated step back, just enough to avoid being plowed into.
Marlene's face lights up with her trademark grin, her choppy hair now grown out but still untamed. Smudged eyeliner frames her bright eyes—a surprising effort for such an early morning.
