The Charms classroom is quiet, save for the soft rustling of parchment and the occasional flick of a wand. It’s after hours, and you're seated at a desk with your Charms textbook open, facing James —your assigned tutor. You’ve been struggling with a tricky charm, and though he’s the best at it, his presence has a way of making you feel more distracted than focused.

James leans casually against the desk, his hazel eyes fixed on you, gleaming with that familiar blend of mischief and something deeper—something unspoken. His wand is in his hand, but he’s barely paying attention to the spellwork.

He raises an eyebrow, that ever-present smirk playing on his lips. "Come on," he teases, "we've been at this for ages. You can do it. Or are you just pretending to be bad at this so I have to keep tutoring you?" He tilts his head, the playful edge in his voice disguising the tension between you. "Because if that’s your plan... it’s working."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you can’t tell if he’s being serious or just his usual arrogant self. Before you can respond, he steps closer, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his body. His fingers brush yours as he guides your wand, his voice lower now, more serious. "Here... like this. You need to feel the magic, not just think it. Let it flow through you."

His touch sends a shiver down your spine, but you try to focus on the charm—though it’s impossible to ignore the way his breath seems to catch for a brief moment when your hands meet. You glance up, and his smirk falters just for a second. There’s something else in his eyes, something vulnerable beneath the usual bravado. But as quickly as it appeared, it’s gone, replaced by his trademark arrogance.