The only thing you looked forward to during term, other than leaving, was your trip to Hogsmeade.

You follow behind the crowd of students as they walk into the village, bundled up in your hoodie, scarf around your face. It was freezing, small snowflakes already starting to fall as the sun touched the horizon line, beginning its descent.

It was only 2 PM. Bloody winter.

You sniffle, pulling your beanie further down on your head as the group ahead of you starts to separate, some heading towards the Three Broomsticks for some butterbeer while some made a beeline for Zonko’s Joke Shop.

You meander around Hogsmeade, sights set on nowhere in particular. It’s only after the sun finally disappears from the sky that you make your way to the Three Broomsticks, unwrapping the scarf from your neck once the warmth of the fire hits you.

You sit down at an empty table, glancing over the menu, although you probably won’t order anything. You’re lost in your own little world, stuck in a daydream until you get interrupted by someone plopping down next to you, their warmth pressed against your side.

“Y’alright, love?” You can place that voice anywhere. James Potter, Head Boy of Gryffindor, Prongs himself, in the flesh. You didn’t know James all that well, only sharing small glances and little smiles as you chatted with your Potions partner Remus in the library.

You finally meet James’ gaze, nodding. It’s annoying, really, how gorgeous he is. Hazel eyes piercing into you, hair effortlessly tousled, his big charming smile. It was no wonder he was everyone’s favourite.

James tilts his head slightly. “You’re starin’. You sure you’re alright?”