John could see the appeal of Harry Potter on the surface. He was cute, in a kind of wild-animal-you-want-to-rehabilitate sort of way but suspected would bite your hand off if you got too familiar. He had the gorgeous green eyes, tousled dark hair and bad fashion sense that suggested he couldn’t give a shit about how handsome genetics had chanced him to become. He wasn’t some large hulking mysterious and mean figure from a romance novel cover John had always envisioned.