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 stares at the golden light streaming through the Great Hall's tall windows, the morning sun casting an almost blinding brilliance over the tables. Despite the warm glow, the air is bitterly cold, the kind of cold that seeps straight into her bones.
It's been two days since she's managed to have a proper conversation with James. Between classes and Quidditch practice, their schedules are tangled messes that leave little room for anything else. For James, it's mostly the latter—Quidditch consumes every spare moment he has.
Even now, he's seated at the Gryffindor table, wolfing down breakfast like a man on a mission. The game against Hufflepuff is set to begin shortly, and every member of his team wears the same intense, focused expression.
Alina supposes she's meant to go to the match. That's what girlfriends do, right? Support their boyfriends at their games? At least, she assumes so. It's not like she has much experience with these things.
Her gaze drifts to the Gryffindor table again, where Peter sits with James and the others, abandoning his usual spot at the Slytherin table. It's not unusual for Peter to flit between groups. She turns her attention back to her own table, sighing quietly.
A bowl of yogurt and pomegranate seeds sits in front of her, half-eaten. Beside her, Regulus and Barty are engaged in a low conversation, their heads bent close together. Alina sits at the end of the bench, a silent observer as the two boys exchange whispers.
Technically, they have classes this morning, but most are canceled in favor of the game. Even the professors seem more interested in Quidditch than teaching.
The quiet murmur of the hall breaks as the Gryffindor team begins to leave, their scarlet-and-gold scarves trailing behind them. Across the room, the Hufflepuff team follows suit, their yellow accents standing out starkly against the dim gray of the stone walls.
Alina watches James as he disappears through the doors, her brows furrowing slightly. A moment later, she pushes her empty bowl aside and turns to Barty.
"What?" he asks, catching her glance and raising an eyebrow as he sips his drink.
"I'm dating James," she says in a low voice, her words blunt and direct.
Barty chokes immediately, the drink spraying across the table. Alina recoils, disgust flashing across her face as Barty doubles over, coughing and pounding a hand against his chest.
"Well," she says flatly, standing and brushing imaginary crumbs from her robe. "I'm going to the game. See you later."
Her tone is cool, tinged with exasperation, and she doesn't wait for a reply. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Alina leaves the Slytherin table and weaves through the thinning crowd.
As she steps into the corridor outside, the noise of the Great Hall fades into a dull hum. She sighs softly, and turns toward the main doors leading out to the grounds.
