This is just a little ficlet that's been bouncing about in my head for some time now. Honest and constructive criticism is appreciated, regardless of whether it is considered a flame.

1. Unisex

Imagine, if you will, that instead of a human being, which is something to be fervently hoped that you are, that you are a small, black, green-eyed cat. If you truly wish to be specific, imagine that you are half-Kneazle, with your Kneazle lineage on your father's side. Now, imagine all of the names – some of them plain – that your owner might give you. For example: Tom, Midnight, Lizzy, Inkling, and so many others. But no, this particular feline had a particularly – for want of a better word – unique name.
_

Late morning; December 25, 1979

"Happy Christmas, Lily," James Potter said, plopping a small, bright red, neatly-wrapped box in front of his wife, who looked up with wary eyes. The gifts that James so often presented to her were… extravagant, and she was not in the mood for things even remotely similar to last year's Valentine's Day present.

On that fateful day of romance and love, she'd received a particularly ugly gnome that showered her with tiny pink paper hearts, sang bad poetry (which she'd later learned that James had written himself), and attempted to make the day as "romantic" as possible. In short, she'd been completely unable to focus on any of her classes and she had lost a good deal of her notes for Transfiguration. Just thinking about what James considered a decent gift made her want to hide her face in her hands – as well as her smile so that he wouldn't feel even slightly encouraged.

James grinned, and for a moment Lily was reminded of the careless, boisterous schoolboy that she had once known and despised, before last year. Still, that had always been a part of him that she'd liked, that ridiculously confident smile. She blinked and, with a little jump, realized that he was actually still speaking.

"-ne overboard so I got you this," he said, pointing at the box with a gleeful expression on his face. The box shook slightly, as if it held some beastly animal within. She looked up with frightful eyes, but James' own eyes were filled with the usual cheer. She kept staring at them, allowing herself to be lost in his chocolate-colored eyes… Hmm, chocolate sounds good right now…

"Lily? Lily!" James exclaimed, waving his hand in front of the redhead's face. She blinked.

"What? Huh?"

James almost laughed. In all the time that he had known her, Lily Evans – Potter as of August – had never uttered those two particular words in that sequence.

"Open your present," he said slowly, leaning closer. Lily felt her face grow hot; with fumbling fingers she unwrapped the box, tossing the paper and ribbon carelessly on the thick blue carpet. James' eyes narrowed, analyzing her expression as she peeked into the box.

A small mew sounded throughout the room. Lily gasped, and lifted a tiny black cat out of the box. A green ribbon was wrapped gently around its neck. The little kitten's eyes - a piercing shade of green – opened, taking in Lily, the sofa, and everything around it. Lily cooed and scratched behind its ears. The kitten's eyes closed in pleasure.

"Is it a tom?" Lily asked, not pausing in her scratching. The kitten was purring now, its ears, bigger than those of most cats, twitching every now and then.

"I don't know," James said, reaching out to scratch the cat under its green bow. The black feline opened one eye and batted at James' hand in a seemingly playful gesture, claws extended. "Ouch!" exclaimed the man, jumping back with three shallow scratches on his left hand. The kitten's slightly tufted tail twitched and it closed its eyes again, still purring.

Lily paused. The tail was tufted… the ears were over-large…"James," she began.

"What?" her husband asked innocently. Too innocently.

"I thought you had to have a license to own Kneazles."

"That's right," replied James with a nod of his head.

"Why is there a Kneazle kitten on my lap?"

James looked offended. "Lily!" he exclaimed in mock anger. "I abide completely by the law. It's a half-Kneazle. It was one of Arabella's," he added quickly, as Lily gave him what could only be described as the Look™. The kitten mewled, nuzzling its head against her hand.

Lily obliged to the kitten's wish, once again began to scratch it under its emerald bow, mentally steeling herself for the rake of claws across her skin. Nothing happened; there was only more purring and soft kitten fur.

"I don't think he likes you," Lily informed her husband matter-of-factly.

James raised an eyebrow. "He?"

"It's a he. I just know it," retorted Lily, narrowing her eyes. James grinned.

"We'll see," said James, sitting beside her. "There's just one thing…" he trailed off, looking slightly nervous.

"What?"

"The cat already has a name," said James, his eyes focused on the ceiling as though something incredibly amazing dangled from it. "I've actually mentioned it before, last summer…"

Lily's eyes remained fixed on her husband's face, narrowed and wary. If one assumed that Sirius' storytelling skills were decent, a trio of Death Eaters had spotted James and Sirius as they'd been undergoing an intelligence mission. To put it shortly, a chase had ensued, Muggle policemen had tried to arrest both men (as they should have, helmetless as they were), and the Death Eaters had caught up with them, forcing them to use magic to make their escape.

Her husband – then her fiancé – could be so dense. Honestly, would it have been so hard to just leave Muggles out of this entire war? At least he'd tried not to scare the policemen out of their wits, as both he and Sirius had kept up a steady stream of supposed-to-be-amusing banter with the keepers of the law. Banter involving... names…. No. Hell no.

"You didn't," she growled through clenched teeth. James finally looked at her, a smile on his face. To elaborate, it was not a 'happiness' smile – it was a 'please-don't-hurt-me' smile.

"It's no use; Arabella already called this one-"

"Don't say it," she said shortly, cutting him off. "You will not call him Elvendork."

"He, he – who says it's a he?" demanded James, grinning.

"If it's a girl, then why are you calling him –" she made sure to emphasize the word "-Elvendork?"

James grinned; he seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. "The thing is, Elvendork's unisex."

Lily swore.