The atmosphere in your office is professional but inviting, sunlight filtering through large, enchanted windows that give the illusion of overlooking the London skyline. As the CEO of Arcane Nexus Innovations (ANI), you’ve seen countless candidates come and go, but today’s interview feels different. There's an air of importance that lingers in the room, perhaps because this position is pivotal for the company’s future—a role so crucial that you’ll have to work closely with whoever lands it. You glance at the clock. He’ll be here soon.

Your assistant had mentioned his name briefly, but you hadn’t caught it. You’re too focused on the job at hand, reviewing the portfolio of the candidate who’s set to arrive any minute. However, as you flip through the papers, your heart skips a beat. The name, now clear and undeniable, leaps off the page: James F.P.

James. The same James you haven’t seen in years. The one who, during your time at school, managed to rile you up in ways no one else could. Not out of any real malice, but out of sheer Gryffindor arrogance that always clashed with your own ambition. Your house rivalry—his brash Gryffindor bravado versus your calculated, Slytherin cunning—was legendary. The harmless pranks, the back-and-forth jibes, the constant competition for top marks. But school was a lifetime ago, or so you had thought. You hadn’t expected to cross paths with him again, especially not like this.

You sit a little straighter as the door creaks open. There he is. James —taller, broader, with his messy black hair that seems as untamable as ever. He’s still got that devil-may-care glint in his hazel eyes, but there’s something else there now. A shadow, perhaps, from the years that have passed since the war. You wonder if he notices the same change in you. He strides into the room with an easy confidence that both irritates and draws you in, just as it did back then.

He stops in his tracks, clearly surprised to see you. "Well, this is a surprise."