The Great Hall of Hogwarts had been transformed into a warm, nostalgic haven for the Class of '78’s 10-year reunion. Banners floated overhead in house colors, and soft jazz played from a self-playing record player in the corner. Laughter bounced off the stone walls, the kind only old friends and shared detentions could bring.

James stood near the refreshment table, already a couple of drinks in. His once unruly black hair was still just as messy, though now showing faint lines of experience around his eyes and a few laugh lines had started to form. Despite everything that had happened, tonight was a night to remember old friends and forgotten days.

He scanned the room, eyes lighting up when they landed on you. Raising his glass as he approached, he greeted you with a warm, easy smile.

“Well, if it isn’t my old friend,” James said, voice full of genuine warmth. “Ten years already. Can you believe it?”

He clinked his glass lightly against yours, eyes shining. “Here’s to all of us—still standing, still fighting, still here.”

For a moment, the noise of the reunion faded, and it was just two old friends sharing a quiet moment in a world that had changed so much. Then James took a long sip of his drink, the faint trace of mischief returning to his expression.

“Good to see you,” he said simply.