Disclaimer: Why yes, of course I own the rights to Harry Potter. I also own the rights to the Internet, the English Language and all Disney songs. Why yes, I am mentally unstable. How did you guess?

Alright, so this piece of sugary sweetness goes to SCarol for Christmas. Sorry it's late!
All the other story-gifts will be too; the cause? Exams.


Like the Rainbow

When he was just a child, his father had taught him a little poem, a set of acronyms, to remember the colours of the rainbow.
Richard of York gained battles in vain.
He remembered the old days with his father fondly. He didn't have much of a chance to spend time with dear old Dad now; the man was just too busy.
Each colour had held an image for him, and though the images were still there, they were different.

Richard.

Her hair. What else?
Glowing like rubies in the day, just as fiery as its owner, it warmed his heart to see it by candlelight or by the flames and dying embers of the Common Room fire. It rebelled against her, or at least it attempted to, in thick wavy strands and he loved it.
Oh, it was far from perfect, as was she, but her flaws made her better than perfect in his eyes.
He would run his fingers through it, and though there were knots, he found it so much more satisfying than hair that just slipped through his fingers, as she almost had.
Of.
A group of Muggleborn students had convinced the Headmaster to let them dress up for Halloween. She had turned up in the Muggle version on a witch's costume – a black dress, with a ripped skirt, a pointy hat, high-heeled black boots, but the thing that made him smile were the black and orange tights that she had on. She was themed, down from her black mascara and orange eye shadow to her bright hair with black highlights.
York.
He smiled.
There was that day when he'd angered her so much she's hexed his hair a bright canary yellow. Even Professor Flitwick hadn't been able to take it off, though that may have been because he was laughing so hard.
She'd forgiven him eventually, and changed his hair back to its original colour.
Gained.
Emerald eyes. Did you really need to ask the question?
Battles.
The skies on all those days they had spent outside, laughing, having fun.
The colour of the Black Lake during the day, sunlight glinting off it…
In.
…and the colour of the Lake at night, with moonlight shining over the both of them.
Their first date. It was 'their spot', their place away from everybody, from the rest of the world. Who needed the world when he had her?
Vain.
The amethyst stone that she had cooed over that day in Diagon Alley.
The same stone that was currently on her hand, on her engagement ring.
He knew he had his faults, she often teasingly reminded him of them, and lack of any sense of romance was one of them, apparently.
He would grin and grin when she would recite the colours of the rainbow.
"Richard of York gained battles in vain. Oh, James, what's so funny?"
"Nothing's funny, Lily."
"Then why are you smiling?"
"Because you're just like the rainbow."


Richard: Red
Of: Orange.
York: Yellow.
Gained: Green.
Battles: Blue.
In: Indigo.
Vain: Violet.
My dad taught me the same thing James' dad did.
Love,
Moretta
P.S. Predictable, I know: Review!