Title: Valentine Presents
Summary: She remembered every Valentine present she had ever gotten from him during Hogwarts. (L/J) (One shot) (Drabbleish)
Disclaimer: I own a grand total of jack squat.
She remembered every Valentine present she had ever gotten from him during Hogwarts, though she often professed that she didn't. She remembered them all, and her fickle feelings that had gone along with them.
In first year, it had been flowers. They had been the most beautiful, perfect flowers she had ever gotten.
…or at least, until she inhaled them and got a big whiff of their peppery fragrance, making her cough and choke sputter, her eyes watering.
She hadn't been surprised; it wasn't the first mean thing he had done to her. She just didn't expect it on Valentine's Day. Valentine's Day had been a holy day, in her opinion. The day for girls to be girls and boys to cater to them.
In second year, it had been a large box of chocolates that made your mouth water on sight.
…that would be, until she read the label on the bottom of the box that read, in large, bold writing, 'COCKROACH CLUSTERS: Made from the finest cockroaches available.' It had been a horrible joke, she had thought, though she couldn't have said she wasn't expecting it. But who did things like that on Valentine's Day? Valentine's Day was a day for peace and present exchanging between the sexes. Not nasty chocolate-covered treats.
In third year, it had been a pretty, silver ring with a stone the color of her green eyes. She had thought it was wonderful.
…that is, of course, until the ring made her finger change colors, from neon green to black to a nasty shade of chartreuse, the effects lasting for three and a half days after she had taken the ring off. She should have known, she decided. Who celebrated Valentine's Day anymore, really, except for horrid little immature boys waiting to play pranks on unsuspecting (and in her case, really quite stupidly unsuspecting) girls? Valentine's Day was a silly holiday celebrated by babies.
In fourth year she had received a lovely giant heart cream-colored teddy bear that was divinely soft and held in its hands caramel chocolate that made her hips fatten a the thought.
…and the chocolate still looked very good, too, even after the tiny bear roared at her and attempted to eat holes through her robe. She had been waiting for that this time. After all, in her opinion, Valentine's Day was a holiday pulled out of candy-makers' arses, Muggle and magical alike, and no good could come from supporting such a demeaning ritual.
In fifth year, she had received a two-feet tall jar of Sugar Quills, her very favorite type of candy in the universe, which had made her eyes-and her stomach- swell at the very thought. It was actually a decent present; she would have to commend him on his improvement.
…that was, until she had received the singing telegram that came along with it, calling her his girl and describing their future home. "Prat," she had muttered, shoving the jar into a delighted first year's hands. She couldn't believe that she had almost participated in such a silly tradition that was created by sexist, possessive, chauvinistic pigs that wanted nothing more than to brand women as theirs. She was glad that she had never even considered enjoying such a stupid "holiday", even when she was little.
In sixth year, she had received a simple card, telling her to have a happy Valentine's day, along with a small box of truffles. Her heart had softened.
…and, strangely enough, it stayed softened. Nothing attacked her, made her allergies act up, turned her different colors, sang horrid songs to her in deep, scratchy, off-key voices, or made her shiver every time she heard the word 'cluster.' It was a sweet, straightforward gift, and for a moment, she was thankful for Valentine's Day. After all, what was so bad about it? It was just a day dedicated to love and fun and romance.
And in her seventh year, her final year at Hogwarts, leaning against the trunk of a willow tree, she had received a necklace with a simple pendant, shaped like a lily. She had looked at him suspiciously, carefully holding it by the tips of her fingers.
"Is it cursed?" she had asked.
"Does it sing?"
"Does it squirt any sort of substance?"
"Wouldn't that be funny? I should have-but no."
"Was it made from any type of living creature?"
"Just into the likeness of one."
"Well, then," she had said, smiling a genuine smile. "Put it on me, then."
And she had lifted her red, red hair back, revealing her neck, and once the chain had been clasped, she said, "So, I was thinking of heading into Hogsmeade. Want to come?"
Yes, Lily Evans remembered every single Valentine's Day present she had ever received from James Potter.
And she wouldn't have it any other way.