Imagine James falling asleep in your lap instead of studying…

You’re sitting in your favourite spot in the Gryffindor common room, sunk into the cushions of the couch with the fire roaring in front of you, warming you up from the chill in the air. You’re reading a book, absentmindedly running your fingers through James’ hair.

He’s head was resting in your lap as he read from his potions textbook, trying to finish off the assignment that was due tomorrow. You lightly scratch at his scalp, his messy curls tangling around your fingers as you drag them back and forth.

When the textbook clatters to the floor loudly you jump, startled away from your own book. James’ breathing evens out, his lips just parted, his eyes closed. You smile, shifting yourself back into a position that was more comfortable, focusing back on the paragraph that you’d been reading before.

“So much for studying hmm Jamie,” You chuckle, going back to running your fingers through your boyfriends hair.

*Gif not mine*

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Imagine being there when James wakes up in the hospital wing…

You brush your thumb over the back of James’ hand, his skin warm to the touch. He was still passed out cold, his left eye black and swollen, his bottom lip split. Under the blanket covering him his cracked ribs were wrapped tight.

When Gryffindor played Slytherin it was always intense, both houses out to prove which of them was the best each and every game. You loved watching James play, seeing the joy on his face when he was up in the air…

But you hated seeing him get hurt and this time he got hurt more than usual. It all happens within a matter of minutes, your whole body reacting as James falls off his broom after being deliberately knocked into. When he hits the ground the other Gryffindor’s in the stand start yelling and cursing out the Slytherin team. There’s a hard lump in the back of your throat as you start pushing yourself out of the stands and towards the field. James hadn’t gotten back up yet and it left a horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Madam Pomfrey fixed him up, telling you he just needed some rest as she moved over to the next bed. You sit next to your boyfriend, watching the way his lashes moved on the tops of his cheeks, his glasses sitting on the table beside his head. You look up as Sirius walks in, still in his quidditch robes and covered in mud. He looks at you, then at James, wincing at his friends injuries.

“Hasn’t woken up yet?”

“Madam Pomfrey said it wouldn’t be long, he’s just resting.”

Sirius nods his head, rubbing his knuckles. You notice the slight bruising, knowing that Sirius wouldn’t have let what happened go easily. Normally you don’t agree with fighting of any kind, but after what happened you can’t help but think that that Slytherin got everything they deserved.

“What happened with the rest of the game?” You ask.

“Called off,” Sirius rolls his eyes. “The slimy git called foul after I socked him, most of both teams are in detention for the next week.”

“Sirius -”

“Don’t worry Pads, we’ll show em next time.”

James’ voice pulls both of your attention, his eyes blinking slowly in the bright light. You pass him his glasses, taking his hand again as he winces in pain. You give him a soft smile as he squeezes your hand, using your free one to brush his unruly hair back away from his face.

“I was worried about you,” You say quietly.

“That was my plan all along,” James jokes, cringing as he coughs.

“Right… you planned for Rosier to knock you from your broom.”

“How else was I going to get you to give me the attention I need.”

You shake your head, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips, careful not to bump him too much. James smiles as you pull back.

“If you weren’t so injured I’d hurt you myself.”

“Kinky,” James winks with his good eye.

Sirius makes a show of pretending to gag.

“Merlin the two of you make me want to throw up.”

*Gif not mine*

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