willow───james potter

08 | shockwaves

LAST NIGHT CAME to her in shockwaves, starting at her temples and then travelling to her kneecaps like honey. Isla remembered amber eyes and messy hair, warm skin against hers and the hesitant frost lining the corner of her mouth as she ran.

'I messed up,' she groaned into her pillow. 'I really messed up.'

Marlene leaned back against Dorcas. 'You mean you messed up when you made out with James Potter, or when you put your tie on backwards for the third time in a row?'

The memories were twisted and beautiful, an unnerving thing, made of mercury and coloured gemstones. Last night, she had dreamed of hands wrapping around her waist and pulling her in; she had been warm and flushed when she opened her eyes, a name on the tip of her tongue just for it to die out instantly as the reality of her situation rushed in.

She fell back into her covers with a sigh. And Isla felt bad for every heart he'd broken - because that's all he was, wasn't he? A heartbreaker.

'God, honey, you're shaking,' Mary said, jumping up to help her with her tie now knotted somewhere around her shoulders.

'Isla, don't worry about it,' Marlene said. 'He's probably already forgotten and is off snogging some other girl -'

She broke off as Dorcas sent a pillow flying in her direction. 'That is not helpful, you asshole!'

Isla's pulse was hammering in her wrist, hot like fire, slow like ice, and it was - wild, reckless. Dangerous. She wasn't sure how it happened, only that it was never supposed to. Because she was used to keeping to herself, always so painfully careful not to get swept up in currents or spat out onto the shore in broken pieces.

But nothing ever went to plan, not so long as James Potter was involved. It was annoying, how he managed to break every single one of her rules, how he thought he had the right to just make up his own rhythm to their dizzying dance.

She spent the rest of the day avoiding the keen eyes of James. Much to Lily's disapproval, she skipped out on both Potions and Charms in an attempt not to catch a glimpse of the messy-haired boy, terrified of what she might see: him pressed up against some other girl he'd already claimed 'love' to, or even worse, that look in his eye that she'd seen last night, directed again to her, a comatose wonder lining amber irises in a way that made her insides melt like honey.

Meanwhile, James was going fucking insane.

'I don't get it,' he muttered, absentmindedly twirling the golden Snitch between his fingers, the tiny wings fluttering in a mesmerising dance against the backdrop of his thoughts. 'She just ran off before we even got to talk about it.'

Sirius gave a non-committal grunt to show he was listening. As the Snitch slipped between his fingers, it took flight, buzzing playfully around the room, casting fleeting specks of gold on the walls.

'Did I take things too fast? I've been trying to give her space to think, but Sirius, I -'

Sirius interrupted, 'Blimey, Prongs, I think I want one of these Muggle motorbikes.'

James turned his head in exasperation to see his best friend holding a Muggle magazine, filled with images of shiny red bikes. 'I'm trying to talk about my problems, here -'

Sirius rolled his eyes. 'Since when did you have so many feelings?'

It was something James had been wondering himself. He had never felt himself get so fixated on one girl before: like monarch butterflies migrating every year, he usually got lost in familiar patterns, shoulders relaxing and limbs loose. But now, he felt his pulse hammer as he recalled the way she'd gasped against him, how her body had been frozen in shock and had slowly melted into his embrace.