The alchemy - James Potter

﹂real life

The months past and Ava and James didn't become soft overnight.

They still bickered. Still exchanged sarcastic jabs and eye rolls like they were a language only the two of them could speak. But now, somewhere in the middle of those playful fights, there was a hand sliding into another, a knee brushing closer under the table, a smirk that lingered too long before a kiss shut them both up.

They were that kind of couple—the kind you couldn't look away from. Not just because they were both unfairly attractive (and they were—Ava with her effortlessly sharp beauty, James with that disheveled, golden boy charm), but because they radiated this specific electricity. The kind that made you lean in a little when they were near, wondering if you'd just caught the start of another secret kiss or a snarky whisper meant only for the other.

In the library, James would lean across the table just to play with the ends of her hair while she tried to read. She'd slap his hand away, but she never told him to stop. Sometimes, she'd prop her leg on his lap while flipping through textbooks, and he'd casually rest his palm on her thigh, completely absorbed in both the pages and her skin.

They kissed like it was a secret, even when it wasn't. In shadowed corridors. In forgotten alcoves between classes. In the back of the Quidditch stands when no one was looking. It was never tame. Their kisses always felt like a dare—urgent, like they only had seconds before they had to pull away or combust.

But they could be soft, too.

James would scribble her initials in the margins of his notes without realizing. Ava would wait up for him after practice, claiming she was there for "peace and quiet" but always saving a spot for him by the fire.

They'd slow dance without music in the common room after everyone had gone to bed. Ava's cheek tucked into the crook of his neck, James' hands low on her back, moving to some rhythm only they could hear. Once, Sirius caught them like that and groaned for five full minutes. James only dipped Ava lower in response.

They matched in chaos and balance. If James was all fire—impulsive, loud, impossible—Ava was the steel edge that kept him grounded. And if Ava was ice—sharp, cool, untouchable—James was the idiot who made her melt with a smirk and a "you're obsessed with me, admit it."

He bought her chocolate frogs she didn't ask for. She fixed his tie when he was late. He kissed her like she was oxygen. She touched him like she couldn't believe he was real.

They weren't always appropriate. They made teachers raise eyebrows and classmates gag in equal measure. Once, McGonagall caught them making out in an empty classroom and only said, "At least have the decency to pretend you're revising."

But they were real. Loud, messy, honest. James would yell across the corridor just to say she looked hot that day. Ava would hex his shoelaces together for stealing her coffee, then kiss his stupid grin away two seconds later.

They were the kind of couple that made you believe in young, wild, reckless love.

The kind that looked like firelight reflecting in whiskey bottles by the lake.

The kind that didn't need perfect words—just locked eyes, shared laughs, and the kind of touch that said, I choose you, even in the chaos.

Always, even when they were teasing each other. Especially then.

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Avaslora pretty in white

maevewindsor marry me now

marlenemckinnon my hot girl

user92 i hope you don't break james heart

rosierevan does potter know how to fight?
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jamiechang angelic omg

user03 you are so pretty

jamespotter trying white dresses for our wedding?
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