life of the party / albus + james
Albus collapsed down on his brother’s bunk, head thumping and his eyes half closed still, the light proving more of a pain to his migraine than the group of screaming first years he passed in the hall. He slipped his hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to push the pain away. “Shit,” he cursed, pulling himself up so he rested against the wall, looking over at James with a pained, lopsided grin. “Messy night. Thanks for saving me, even though I don’t remember you dragging me back to my room. In fact,” the boy said, scoffing at himself. “I don’t remember anything about last, to be honest.”








