"You don't- you can't just-"

James is flabbergasted, confused, and worst of all: sad that it's over. It's a hard feeling to embrace. He barely knows this boy, but that had been for good reason, right? He was a Malfoy, the representation of snobbery and pureblood fanaticism and everything wrong with the Wizarding world. Pretending he was utterly outraged was much, much better than admitting to himself that he'd liked the press of lips against his.

"Why would you even do that?"