PROLOGUE // EXTENDED SUMMARY

Nephele Gaunt had been different this year.

She'd returned to Hogwarts for her sixth year not two days ago and James Potter had already realised it.

She had always been cold, both to the touch and in her demeanour, however this year it seemed that the ice had not thawed over the course of the summer holidays, it had thickened.

It shouldn't surprise him, he supposed, not with the rumours of whose company she kept over those two summer months reaching his ears so often. He could only assume that anyone in such awful company would turn to the comfort that an icy demeanour brought, Sirius certainly did.  And if rumours were to be true, which they so often were in their circles, the Gaunts were just as bad as the Blacks, and just as mad,

... if not worse.

—

James Potter had been watching her.

For the two days since returning to school, Nephele Gaunt had felt the unbearable weight of his gaze on her, heavy on her shoulders. His eyes followed her every move, watching her carefully. It made her incredibly uncomfortable. It made her want to crawl out of her skin. She wasn't unused to the stares. The glares of hatred were easy to deflect, but the looks coming from James Potter weren't of hatred or disgust, nor lust. They were of pity and worry and that somehow made it all worse.

She had tried to scare him off in hopes that he'd cease in his stupidly compassionate glances. She'd worn the most scathing of glares she could possibly muster but every attempt at deterring him was hopeless.

When on the receiving end of one of her glares, James Potter had the nerve to smile at her. It wasn't just a small, tight lipped smile either, it was a full on teeth baring, infuriating grin that made her want to claw both his and her eyes out.

She was beginning to despise him.

The urge to throw a curse his way was all too tempting but facing the knowing glances of her peers and teachers would be too painful.

So instead she weathered it, wishing it would be over soon.

But James Potter wasn't known for relenting. Whether it be in his "pranking" or his romantic interest, it was rare that anything deterred him. But, still, Nephele sat patiently, only barely tolerating the stares, with the constant hope that something else would pique his interest and fast...

... poor, naïve, Nephele.

thank you for reading!!!

- love, ciara x

     — for some reason my phones not letting me upload my gifs *but* i wanted to post this so it'll have to survive without a sign off for a bit ://