Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Even my Harry Potter books, since my mom bought those for me.

A Quicky Note: This is simply something I wrote for a creative writing class last year. It's short, and it's so vaguely related to HP that it's laughable; it probably deserves an AU warning, as it would be very difficult to say this follows canon very closely. But I want to give people a place to respond to me, if I've reviewed a fic of yours, and you want to comment to me. (As far as I know, this isn't against rules, but if it is, someone tell me.)


"Lilies"

The open window was letting a cool spring breeze flow into the apartment when she came home from work. She put her keys down on the little table by the door, and hung her light jacket up on its hook on the coatrack. She was about to drop her purse down onto the dining table when she noticed the flowers, lying beside a small white card. The small gasp that escaped her echoed around the empty room before leaving through the window. She knew they were from him, because they were lilies and he always bought her lilies.

She hated lilies.

She hated the flowers because he always bought them for her after he had said something to hurt her. She hated lilies because they reminded her of all the hateful things he said, the things he said he didn't really mean, that he always tried to take back with flowers. She always let him take the words back, even if the pain they caused her was still there. She didn't want to give him up, not after three years together. She didn't want to wake up alone for the first time in almost two years. He could still be kind if he tried hard enough. She had imagined what their wedding would look like. Where they would live after they got married. What their children would look like. Where they would go when they were old and grey and she couldn't hear well anymore and he had to use a cane to help him walk. The thought always made her smile, even when his words made her cry.

She cried a lot lately. He'd been finding new ways to make her upset, telling her things she didn't want to hear, especially from him. He must have loved it when he could find something new that would make her face contort with grief, because he was always digging up new things. The insults came from anyplace he could find them, from petty things like her nose being too big for the rest of her face, to awful things that he had nothing to do with, like how she blamed herself for her childhood friend's suicide. Nothing was off limits to him.

He was always contrite, though. That's why he always brought lilies. The more hurtful he had been, the more lilies were given to her. He thought they would make her feel better, but they were like salt rubbed into her emotional wounds. When she saw the hated flowers lying innocently on the table, the small white index card lying next to them, she wondered what he had done. He had been almost civil this morning as he left for work, saying goodbye with a small kiss on her cheek. She picked up the card that had his writing on it -- cramped and spikey -- and read:

Dear Lil,

I can't let myself hurt you anymore. I've taken my stuff already.

Love Sev

Lily picked up the two white flowers on the table and threw them out the open window, laughing softly. He never knew she hated lilies.


Review if you like. It won't bother me if you didn't read this.

No, I'm not a Lily/Snape shipper. But that seemed like the most logical pairing for this sort of business.