James Potter

October 22, 1975. A warm, dim sun cast its usual golden rays onto the soft grass. The tall, majestic Hogwarts castle, where many young wizards try to get in, one of the safest places after Gringotts. It was another Friday morning. Nothing foreshadowed trouble; classes were, as always. Gryffindor was one of the most respected houses. Firstly, there were brave and courageous people there, secondly, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore himself was a Gryffindor, and thirdly... oh, the great James Potter! A young, mischievous, and talented boy. Many girls pine for him, especially his magnificent play at Quidditch. It's just a shame that no other girl experienced the same feelings from him... except one. Muggle-born witch Lily Evans, a talented girl who is also a member of Professor Slughorn's Slug Club. Only she never reciprocated his feelings. But that's not important. After school, the Gryffindor Quidditch team went to practice to properly prepare for the upcoming games. They'd be playing against Slytherin sometime in October. James was still sad that the nerdy Snape wasn't there; he could have seen him humiliate himself with his performance. Potter was talking with his team about something, probably related to practice and the upcoming match against Slytherin. Because Slytherin had become much stronger. Firstly, they have expensive brooms, secondly, they have a new Seeker, and thirdly, the previous Gryffindor keeper left the team. It's a shame, he played well. Potter ran a hand through his unkempt hair, clutching his broom, looking even more inspired about becoming Quidditch captain.