The flickering candlelight cast long shadows against the ancient bookshelves of the Hogwarts library. The Restricted Section always had an aura of mystery, but tonight it felt alive, like it was holding its breath, waiting for something—or someone.

You had no idea how you ended up here with James. Well, no, that wasn’t entirely true. You did. It had started with a dare, then a challenge, then James’ infuriating grin that said, Bet you can’t keep up. And here you were, crouched behind a dusty row of shelves, holding a stack of old love letters tied with a faded ribbon.

“Careful, love,” James whispered beside you, voice a low murmur that sent a shiver up your spine. “Wouldn’t want Madam Pince catching us. She’s got ears sharper than Moony’s.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile that tugged at your lips. He was impossible. Always cracking jokes at the worst times, always leaning just a little too close. It was distracting, maddening…

“What do you think these are?” you asked, holding up the fragile bundle. The letters were written in a looping, elegant script, their parchment brittle with age.

James tilted his head, dark eyes scanning the top letter. His glasses slipped down his nose, and you resisted the urge to push them back up. Instead, he leaned closer, his shoulder brushing yours.

“Looks like love letters,” he said, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Reckon they’re from someone scandalous? Maybe an old professor. Maggie in her wild youth, perhaps?”

You smacked his arm lightly, earning a dramatic ow in response. “Be serious, James. These could be important!”

“Oh, I’m serious, sunshine. Very serious.” He reached out, gently tugging the ribbon loose. The letters fanned out in his hands, and his expression softened as he scanned the first few lines. “Wow. These… they’re beautiful.”

You leaned in to read over his shoulder. The words painted a story of forbidden love, whispered promises, and stolen moments under the moonlight. It was heartbreakingly romantic.