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Summary
James made a beeline for her, rounding the corner where she stood by the kitchen island, red hair falling messily over her shoulders, wearing his Puddlemere jumper and her old primary school hockey trackies he transfigured to fit her summer of sixth year when he visited Cokeworth.
She looked beautiful, James forgot she was his again.
Forgot that she had left and come back, that she was here to stay, that she’d promised to never go again.