Elsi: GASP. What is this nonsense? Another update, completely written within twenty minutes of the last? What is this nonsense!

Trek: Sick writer's disease.

Elsi: **facepalm** RIGHT. SWD. I knew that...goshkers.

Trek: Right. We at Storm that Twists in Spiral Incorperated hold no rights to any of the following materials. We are simply fans, hoping to live up to the greatness of Rowling. Thank you.

Yellow

Lysander was a strange, strange person. As son of Luna Scamander nee Lovegood, it was expected of him. And he fit the bill, perfectly. Lysander was a Seer, and a gifted one at that. Usually, he Saw things in the waking world, but occasionally, he received coded messages in his dreams. Such as the dream he had received the night before.

"What are you thinking about, Ly?" asked Molly Weasley, his girlfriend, coming up behind him on the bench. Lysander shrugged his shoulders, staring into the fire.

"The color yellow," he reported blandly. Molly came to kneel on the bench behind him and started to massage his back.

"You like yellow," she observed. Lysander nodded. An idea struck his mind.

"Molly?" he questioned. Molly threw her arms around his neck and stopped her massage, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"Yes?" she replied. Lysander paused. Was she waiting for him to say something special? That was where he had to be cautious with Molly. She was very, very high maintenance. But he was oh so lucky to have her.

"You don't happen to have yellow dress robes, do you?" Molly's surprise was evident as she sat up straight. "Long and flowing, with a few ruffles around the waist and a big white flower on the shoulder?"

"Yes, I do, actually," she replied, a little shaken. "How do you know that?" Lysander loosened her grip on him and turned around to face her. Her face was lit up a dark golden-yellow because of the light from the fire.

"I had a dream last night," he said quietly. "In it, I was standing in a ballroom, dressed in rich yellow. I have a pair of dress robes that are yellow; I wore them to the Christmas ball at the Potters last year."

"I remember," muttered Molly. "Go on." Lysander nodded firmly.

"So. I was in this ballroom, dressed in purple. And I was starting to wonder why I was there, but then you came in. And you were dressed all in yellow, those flowing dress robes I described a little while ago. The lights followed you, and I wondered to myself if I was really the person you were looking at. But I was, and you came straight to me. Your hair was tied half-up, half-down, and you looked beautiful." Lysander closed his eyes, imaging the dream in vivid detail.

"All the lights were yellow, too, and the floor, and the walls, and practically everything else. But for some reason, your yellow robes were brighter than all the other yellow in the room. I could tell that you weren't wearing makeup, yet you were more beautiful than I'd ever seen you.

"And then, suddenly, there were other people there in yellow, too. Roxanne and Lorcan, Rose and Scorpius, and Scorpius looked truly awful in yellow, I must say. I thought to myself that the other women in the room looked nice in their yellow, but they all seemed a background display to you. And then we danced. We danced until the sky was starting to turn light, that pretty blue streaked with yellow as the sun rose. And the sun's light fell right on you, but you were brighter than it. Brighter than the sun, I mean. I tried to tell you that, and all you did was laugh. Your laugh was yellow, too, somehow. I don't know how, but it was all yellow."

He paused, opening his eyes and blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light. Molly's dark red hair seemed to be blonde with firelight; her brown eyes sparkled with the yellow light of the fire. Lysander noticed that he had grasped her hands and turned away from her, staring into the fire. He could hear Molly moving around behind him, but his mind spun as he thought about the fact that he had just told her about his entire dream, every last detail.

"Why yellow?" she asked him quietly. Lysander shrugged.

"I don't know," he answered. "I never really know what my dreams mean." He paused and then turned around, peering up at her. Molly had moved off the bench and was now standing over him with a look of doubt on her face. "But you were really very beautiful in those yellow robes."

"I actually never liked them," murmured Molly, brushing her hair into a ponytail with uncertainty. "I was going to give them to Lucy…"

"Don't," insisted Lysander. "Wear them to the War Memorial party next week."

"Hair half-up, half-down?" inquired Molly with a smile. "No makeup?"

"You never need to wear makeup with me," murmured Lysander. "I think you look prettier without it." Molly smiled wider and crossed to stand in front of him again. She held her hands out to him, and he took them, standing in front of her slowly. He was only a few inches taller than him, but it was still enough that she was looking up at him.

"Thank you, Lysander," she murmured very quietly. "It really means a lot."

"My pleasure, Molly," whispered Lysander with a smile. "Promise to wear the yellow robes?"

"I will," giggled Molly. "Lysander…I think I know why you dreamed of the yellow ones." Lysander tilted his head to the side.

"What?" he inquired. Molly grinned again, and her whole face lit up with an undeniably yellow glow.

"Yellow is the color of joy," she told him quickly. "Like the joy between us." Lysander smiled back at her. "Goodnight, Ly."

"Goodnight, Mols," responded Lysander. Molly kissed him on the cheek swiftly. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Lysander," chuckled Molly, starting towards her dorm. "My joy."

"My joy," echoed Lysander, watching her go. He smiled. "I like the sound of that. It sounds…yellow."

Elsi: Fluff, fluff, fluff, oh how I love fluff! My darling flufffffff!

Trek: Yes, yes. Fluff is good.

Elsi: It is. It is! So, readers, do YOU like fluff? I do.

Trek: Elsi is trying a weird tactic on convincing you to review. She's off to write the FINAL chapter of Lessons and Lies, which I'm NOT going to tell you the name of. It has the possibility of premiering tonight. Gasps. We will pay tribute to anyone who has reviewed or favorited the story by the time we write AN's. So, if you want to see your name on the thank you list of this story, you know what to do!