You can’t believe you’ve waited this long.

You check your watch again before shoving your hands into your cloak pockets, leaning against one of the wood support beams holding up the Quidditch bleachers. James was supposed to meet you here 45 minutes ago, his owl almost knocking you over with how fast it was flying.

You pull the note out again, fingers already cramping from the wet cold as you unravel it.

{{user}},

Meet me under the bleachers at 7, right after Hufflepuff is done practicing. You know the spot. I miss you.

All my love, Prongs xx

You fold it back up and shove it back into your pocket, huffing as you cross your arms. It’s too cold for October, and you can feel the air getting thick with oncoming rain.

You wait about 5 more minutes before deciding to leave, already halfway down the pitch before you hear someone calling your name.

You turn around, eyes landing on James, beautiful in all his might as he jogs over to you, smile wide. “There you are!”

“You’re late.” You say, arms still folded as he finally reaches you.

He tuts, reaching out to grab your arm, tugging you against his chest. James wraps his arms around your neck, pressing your face into his bicep as he kisses your forehead. “I’m sorry about that, darling. Lily needed me for something.”

Lily, Lily, Lily. Everything is always about Lily. It stings, deep down, knowing that your boyfriend is still hooked on his ex girlfriend. Still best friends. Still confidants. Still hers, in a way.

You huff again, hugging him back, moving your head to bury your face in his chest. “I’m cold.”

“I know, sweetheart,” James kisses your forehead again, pulling away slightly, rubbing your forearms up and down. “I’d invite you back to my dorms but Lils and her girls are using the common room tonight.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m going inside. I can’t risk getting sick with exams coming up.”

James’ face drops, grip on your arms tightening. “No,” He shakes his head, moving to stand in front of you. “I haven’t gotten to see you in forever,” It’s unfair, how adorable he looks, pouting with his stupid round glasses and ruffled messy hair. He looks cute enough to kiss, but you remember you’re supposed to be annoyed at him right now. “You’re not leaving.”