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 Potter is confused. Again. It isn't an uncommon feeling, especially over the past month.
But this? This is different.
Lying on his bed, he stares at the red and gold patterns on the ceiling, his mind circling back to the enigma that is Alina Nightshade.
Merlin, she's baffling.
He knows she hates him—she's made that perfectly clear on countless occasions. And yet, two nights ago, she came to him for help. Not anyone else—him.
Help with astral projecting, of all things.
But why him? Why not Barty, or Peter, or someone she actually likes? Someone she considers a friend?
Why the boy who has hurt her so many times before?
"Oi!" Sirius's voice cuts through his thoughts as he bangs on James's bedpost. "Come on, mate. Breakfast!"
"I'm up, I'm up," James mutters, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes as he pushes himself upright. He's already dressed for the day, though most of his mornings are spent waiting for the others to finish.
He usually gives Remus a pass—he moves slower on cold mornings. Sirius, though, has no excuse. He always insists on sleeping in as late as possible, even though he knows how long it takes him to get ready.
Grabbing his bag from the bench at the foot of his bed, James follows his friends out of the dormitory. Peter has already gone, as usual.
The common room is sparsely populated, the few students present grumbling over homework loads that are far too heavy for so early in the term.
Sirius and Remus trail slightly behind as they leave the common room, their quiet banter filling the stillness of the early morning. Sunlight streams through the tall windows, casting a warm glow on the stone walls, though the air holds a lingering chill.
"The homework's due tomorrow?" Sirius groans, turning to Remus in dismay. "I thought it was next week!"
Remus sighs, not even glancing up as he walks. "That's because you only hear what you want to hear."
"No, I don't!"
James chuckles, his laugh faint but genuine enough to placate his friends. He isn't really listening, though. His attention wavers as they round a corner, his gaze drawn down a side hallway.
There she is.
Alina Nightshade.
Her white hair catches the morning light, drawing his eyes to her immediately. She walks slowly, heading in the direction of the Great Hall.
