THC, Final, Slytherin, HoH, Drabble

Prompt: [Must Include] A poem

Word count: 746

Beta(s): CupCakeyyy, Aurora, ShynGreat, Aya Diefair

Roses are red

Violets are blue

Lilies are pink

Just like you

Lily furrowed her brows together as she read the poem that had been left on her desk. While it rhymed nicely enough, it didn't actually make much sense. Though, while the thought was nice, knowing that it could only have been from James Potter made it sour.

"Why the long face?"

Lily looked over at her lab partner, Peter, and shrugged. "Just received a poem, that's all."

"And that makes you sad?" he asked

Conflicted with her own thoughts and feelings, she copied down the initial notes for the Potions lesson. "No, not really… It's just…"

Peter looked at her, to the board, to her work, and then began to copy her notes. "Nobody's written me a poem before."

Lily froze, her quill hovering above her parchment. She shook her head as an ink drop stained her work. "I didn't mean to gloat about getting one. I'm sure there's—"

"No, it's okay. I'm happy with what I have, with my friends." He continued to copy her notes, paying more attention to them than her. "I think the effort deserves a thanks, at least. If I wrote one, I'd want them to say something to me."

Putting her quill to her parchment as Professor Slughorn walked past to continue her note-taking, she sensed that there might be more of a story to his statement. "You've never received a poem?" she clarified.

Peter gave her a confirmation nod.

"Have you ever sent a note?"

He paused, his quill only stopping for a second before continuing to copy her notes. "Once. I sent one once. No reply."

Lily felt her heart tighten. How could somebody not reply to Peter? That wasn't right. Perhaps, she was a bit too closed-minded regarding James' efforts. While she didn't specifically want the attention, she shouldn't be so rude about them. Especially as he seemed to have stopped his bullying ways as much; the pranks were more light-hearted and didn't appear to cause harm.

"Fine, I'll go and thank him."

Peter smiled.

"So, who did you send yours to?"

The boy's face flushed. "Oh, well, you know…" he drifted off before muttering, "Amelia."

Lily patted his back sympathetically.

"Hey, James. Wait up!" Lily called as she jogged to catch up with the messy-haired boy and his friends. "Can I have a moment with you?"

James grinned from ear to ear and nodded. "Absolutely."

They stepped to the side and she watched as his friends walked off only a few feet.

"I just wanted to say thank you, it was a sweet idea," Lily said softly, offering him a small smile.

James nodded slightly. "You are very welcome, as you always would be… can I ask something?"

"Sure."

"What specifically are you thanking me for? The chocolates or the scarf? Or both?"

Confusion filled her. "I haven't received either of them."

James let out a hearty laugh. "I'm not using Marlene as a courier anymore." He shook his head with amusement and ran a hand through his hair. "What was the thank you for then?"

"The poem," Lily replied, her eyebrows furrowed together as she held it out to show him. He had sent her gifts? She just presumed he'd stopped last year when she hadn't received anything else since then. One thing was for sure, she would be having a word with her roommate, Marlene.

James' eyes scanned over the words and he held back a laugh. "I didn't write this, Lils. I'd make a little more effort if I did."

"Oh…"

"But if you want a poem, I can deliver one!" James rolled his shoulders back and cleared his throat.

"When the trees glisten, I will listen.

When the sun shines, the stars align.

To show me, what's meant to be."

Blinking as she listened to James' impromptu poem, she wasn't sure what to do. It rhymed and had some sort of meaning, though, she wasn't entirely sure of it.

"That was actually rather lovely, James. Thank you."

James grinned and brushed some of her hair out of her face. "Whatever your heart desires."

Lily's lips twitched upwards. "Thanks, James."

He nodded and gave her a mock bow. "If that is all, my lady, I have a Quidditch practice to get to."

She smiled and watched him go. She wondered why her heart had fallen slightly upon realising that somebody else had written her a poem originally and not James. Maybe she valued his attention more than she had cared to admit.