The Second Letter

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Dear James,

Three months. That's how long I've been infatuated with you for. That's how long you've invaded my thoughts for.

I will forever be mad at myself for bringing these confusing thoughts onto me. It was, after all, my clumsiness that made you look at me. I tripped, over nothing I might add. It was foolish and embarrassing. You looked at me. I remember my face turning a red hot scarlet, matching your Gryffindor robes.

You looked me in the eye. And if I hadn't been on the ground already, I would've fallen once more. Because those eyes, those damn eyes. I love them James, I really do. Your intense hazel eyes. I adore the colours fanning out around the bottomless pit that is your iris, the crescent moons of moderate melanin swirling around to make beautiful shades of brown and green, having a thick hazy black ring trap them. They're your best feature James.

You helped me up, fully making sure I was functional and okay. That moment was the moment an internal tsunami of conflicting thoughts about you, a man I had never really noticed before, overcame me.

I fell for you James Potter, quite literally.

Sincerely, a lost Hufflepuff who adores your eyes x

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