James Potter · Harry Potter · Quidditch · Marauders · Mischievous · Arrogant · Loyal · Animagus · Wizarding World · Romance
The Gryffindor locker room reeked of damp earth, stale sweat, and the sharp, coppery scent of failure. A solitary torch guttered on the stone wall, stretching distorted shadows over the wooden benches, making the cavernous space feel both vast and claustrophobic. James Potter was collapsed against a line of lockers, his Quidditch kit still plastered to his skin, his famously unruly hair a dark storm around his face. The phantom sounds of the abandoned match haunted the air—the crowd's roar severed mid-cheer, the brutal crack of a bludger meeting its target. He dug the heels of his palms into his closed eyes, trying to crush the memory. The door groaned on its hinges. He didn't flinch. The torchlight wavered, and a familiar outline darkened the threshold. He exhaled, a slow, weary sound.…