James Potter was liquid gold, the human embodiment of felix felicis. Eyes of hot, molten hazel, constantly gleaming and twinkling with mischief and secrets and risk, always tempting her to lean in closer, dive in.
But she couldn't.
He was mythical, noble, sparkling and dazzling. Sharp jawline and rigid shoulders of edges, glistening and shimmering at the seams. Sometimes she'd look at him and dare to dream about his life before, before school, before her, and imagine things straight out of a storybook. Being a child in this world, his world, must have been so different than her own, a magical, unreal life. Something out of fairytales, myths, pure folklore. She could envision him running through the halls of some mansion, ancient artifacts and swords lining the walls. A childhood of flying broomsticks, elves, and magic.
He constantly tried to tell her that it wasn't his world it was theirs, hers, meant for all those magical, muggleborn or otherwise. That she truly belonged there, in the wizarding world, alongside him. He shouted it over the din of all those who said otherwise and she almost believed him. Almost.
When he walked in the room and sent that smirk in her direction or ran his hands through his hair she felt her face warming and heating. She began to anticipate the red flush to make its way up her neck as soon as he entered a room and that bothered her more than anything. Far more than the cocky way he walked or the way he effortlessly sashayed through life. The way he could affect her so easily was haunting. The way he could instantly get her heart racing just by looking at her, send a shiver down her spine with a smile.
She knew it wasn't just her who was affected, although she imagined she was the one who was hit the deepest. Regardless, adoration of James Potter was rooted in the hearts of nearly every student. Every second year whos name he learned, the fifth year group he tutored in Transfiguration, his friends who would lay their lives down without question, they all had the look. The James-Potter-Admirer Look. Every kind interaction she witnessed sent another line of fire to her stomach. How could he be so good, so kind, and so brutally magnetic.
Her friends didn't understand why she wouldn't want him in those very early days, overlooking the attitude and behaviors so easily, just as everyone did. He walked through the Great Hall and everyone turned to watch. Everyone wanted him, wanted to touch him, be him, know him. She had no interest in being with someone in the center of everything. She already had too much attention on her just by being her.
It didn't matter how attracted to him she was. It didn't matter that he had grown, no longer the boy who pulled her pigtails but now the man who stood up for injustice and fought for the innocent. It didn't matter that they were a part of the same magical world now, James Potter was far too golden to be real. Something to admire from afar, but she couldn't dare get close.
He sparkled so much she had always assumed he'd outshine her, leave her standing in shadows. But that wasn't it. Once he eventually had worn down her walls, forced his way into her life and forced her to admit it, she figured it out. She quickly came to learn that when he smiled at you, it didn't blind you with the light, it surrounded you. Warmed you to the core. Lit her whole world up in gold. Made her shine just as bright as he did. Made everyone around him shine brightly and beautifully, diamonds in the sun.
He wasn't perfect. Far too loud and hot tempered, fidgety and emotional, to ever be perfect. But he was good. Good and noble, honest and real. She learned to trust him and believe him when he said she was safe with him, even though she was no longer safe anywhere those days. Believed him when he said she belonged there, with him. Believed him when he said he needed her there, shining alongside him. Believed him when he said that his world wouldn't spin or exist if she wasn't in it.
He was a mythic thing, kind and noble, sparkling and dazzling. Uniquely magnetic, blindingly beautiful. Utterly unobtainable, yet so completely and totally hers.