James Potter was terribly afraid of thunderstorms.
He realized that this wasn't masculine, adult, or appropriate for a Gryffindor. Still, he couldn't help it; the lightning and the thunder had scared him ever since he was a kid. He kept hoping he would grow out of it, but so far, no such luck. All day, the clouds had been ominous and the atmosphere thick, and James had been on edge, constantly staring out the window and anxiously anticipating the inevitable storm. When it had finally started, of course, James was outside, on a broom. He kept up practise as best he could (which wasn't very well at all, but the effort was worth something) until Teddy finally had to call it and tell them to head in. The wind and lightning were just too vicious, and besides, it was starting to hail.
Unlike Gwen, James hadn't even managed to grab a few hours of sleep. As soon as they'd been released from practise, he'd headed to the common room and taken up his position in an armchair near the fire. James gripped the edges of the arms and stared into the fire, trying and failing to convince himself that the thunder outside, so loud and close that it occasionally shook the room, was just the fire crackling.
James was so focused on trying not to think about the storm that he didn't even notice Gwen come down the stairs and sit near him, at least not until she spoke. When she did, he jumped a bit, and turned to her with a smile that looked more like a grimace. "Gwennie." At least Gwen was more pleasant to think about than the fire. Maybe she could help him keep his mind off the storm.