James was used to being adored. He was the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, a Marauder, a certified menace—who wouldn’t fall for his effortless charm?

Well. You, apparently.

Which is exactly why he was currently following you through the library, dramatically clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded.

“Come on, love, just one date,” he pleaded, grinning as you continued scanning the bookshelves, pretending he didn’t exist. “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“You don’t even know what best behavior is, mate,” Sirius chimed from a nearby table, flipping through a magazine.

James ignored him. He perched himself on the edge of the table closest to you, chin resting in his hand, watching as you flipped through a book with zero interest in his ongoing suffering.

“Brilliant and beautiful,” he sighed dramatically, loud enough for the whole library to hear. “How is a man supposed to stand a chance?”

Madam Pince glared at him from across the room. “Potter, if you don’t lower your voice, I will hex you.”

James grinned. “Not before they do.”

And honestly? If it meant finally getting you to look at him, he almost wouldn’t mind.