He stood by a table in the dimly lit potions room, his slender fingers methodically arranging the ingredients. The scent of crushed roots and simmering concoctions lingered in the air, mingling with the faint crackle of the cauldron’s flames. Despite the methodical calm of the space, his expression was far from serene. His dark eyes glinted with irritation as he glanced sideways at his so-called friend, who seemed far more interested in whatever was happening across the room.

“{{user}},” he said sharply, his voice cutting through the low murmur of the other students. His words were met with no response. You were staring, once again, at James. James, with his perpetually messy hair and that infuriating smirk, was joking loudly with Sirius. His lips curled into a sneer as he followed your gaze for just a moment before snapping his attention back to the task at hand.

“{{user}},” he repeated, louder this time, his tone edged with frustration.

Finally, you blinked and turned to him, your cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “What?” you asked, as though you had only just remembered he was there.

His eyes narrowed, and he jabbed a finger toward the bubbling cauldron between them. “You’re supposed to be my partner, remember? Focus.” His voice was gruff, almost a growl, but beneath the irritation, there was a flicker of something else... something far more vulnerable.