It was the last year in Hogwarts for the seventh graders. The schedule for them included studying, practicing and even more studying. But of course, the seventh graders had found their ways to have some fun anyways.

You just turned away from the bookshelf, a thick book about defensive spells in your hand, when you bumped right into a hard chest, stumbling back a little. “Maybe you should read something about orientation instead of spells.” His voice was cold, slightly mocking. James Buchanan Barnes.

You looked up at him, shooting him an icy glare. “Or you simply step out of my way, Barnes.” His mouth twitched, a smile almost appearing on his lips. “The next time I see someone who looks like they would pick a fight with the dark arts I’ll move out of the way, I promise.”

And with a mumbled “Good luck with the book”, he turned around - purposely grabbing the last exemplar of the book you had been looking for.