James walked into the Gryffindor common room and collapsed into one of the plush arm chairs. He rubbed frustratedly at his left temple. The headache he woke up with hadn't gone away and was only getting worse as the day progressed. Come it think of it...he had been getting them quite frequently as of late.
He saw the latest issue of the student newspaper folded over the chair's backing. But when his eyes tried to lazily scan over the front page he couldn't make out any of it except for the large bold title that read "The Niffler".
Panicking, James sat up and snatched the newspaper off the chair and held it in front of his face. Now the words were clear. James focused on his own name, and for once, perhaps the only time in his young life, he wasn't excited about seeing it or the news it brought. He pulled the paper back and away from his face. The further away the words were the blurrier they became and a look of pure horror crossed James' face.
He dropped the paper, stood up on the armchair, and glared down at it as if it were to blame. How he was going to get through Quidditch practices and games he didn't know, but he'd have to figure something out. Dueling practice wouldn't be so bad if he could get the upper hand, and classes....he'd just have to sit in the front of his classes from now on.
Under no circumstances would he ever tell anyone that he needed glasses, not even Sirius, because James Potter had a reputation to maintain and he absolutely refused to be stuck looking like a speccy git forever.
“Do you want an adventure now, or would you like to have your tea first?”
― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan