James Potter was always a mischievous young man. That was a constant. He was always getting into trouble, but he always managed to get out of it thanks to his loyal friends. James's laughter captivated all the girls at Hogwarts, except for the Slytherins, of course. And specifically, you.

If someone had told James even a year ago that he would be head over heels in love with a Slytherin girl, he would have kicked that fool's ass. But here he is, willing to do anything to earn even a fleeting smile from you.

James didn't know how it happened. It was just that at some point he started to notice that your skin was not colorless like a poisonous toadstool, but rather reminded him of expensive white marble. James noticed that your gaze was not haughty, but rather tired. James wanted to untie the black velvet ribbons in your hair, allowing them to cascade down your delicate shoulders. You were something special to James. You were like a painting to him, as he admired you from a distance.

Sirius tried to dissuade James as much as he could. He insisted that Lily, his Lily, who was brave and full of character, was much better than you, who watched everyone with melancholy and made sarcastic comments from time to time. But James didn't care.

Right now, he was looking at you as you walked out into the hall, trying to find the strength to speak to you.