You wish Potter : A Jily Fanfiction

The Very Secret Valentine

James was very quiet for a while. "Do you want a fag?" he asked, producing two of Sirius's from his pocket.

Benjamin eyed the cigarette offered to him and shook his head. "I don't smoke."

"Neither do I," James confessed. He stared at the unlit cigarette dangling between his fingers. "It just felt fitting." He opened his fingers and watched it drift downward, disappearing in the white glare of the snow. Then he turned and swung his arm around Benjamin's shoulders, walking towards the door. "Let's go to Transfiguration. Are you in my class, Benjy?" Benjamin nodded. "Great!" When they reached the door, James suddenly remembered something; he reached his hand into Benjamin's pocket, tied the card to the leg of the nearest bird, and with a moment's pressure on his arm, the snowy owl took off into the blindingly bright sky. Benjamin blinked. "How does it feel to be a Gryffindor?" James asked him, grinning broadly.

James continued to fret over his card during Transfiguration. "Silly? Hilly? Willy? Willy...willy?"

"Potter. Stop mumbling profanities and pay attention to the lesson," McGonagall said crisply from the front of the classroom.

The class all giggled, but James was unperturbed. "Professor, can you rhyme something with the same word?"

"No, Potter. And if this has anything to do with tomorrow's festivities, I would advise you to make your poem a little less vulgar."

"Right. Thanks, Professor." James went back to his card, frowning.

When James walked in to the Great Hall the next morning, he thought for a moment that he had walked through the wrong doors. Lurid pink fabric hung from the walls and was draped over the tables; red, heart-shaped confetti was falling from the ceiling; and large, pink baskets of roses were at the centre of every table. Apparently the Ministry thought it would be good for Hogwarts to celebrate the national holidays more in these dark times. He took a seat with his friends near the end of the bench.

"Why in the name of Merlin would you take relationship advice from Minerva McGonagall?" Sirius asked derisively.

James looked along the line of stony-faced teachers. From where he sat, he could see a muscle pulsing in Professor McGonagall's cheek.

"She was just sort of there...anyway, you would just make fun of me if I asked you anything about Evans-"

"True," Sirius admitted.

"And Remus-"

James looked at Remus, who was chomping on a chocolate strawberry, looking completely sickened.

Just then a large flock of owls came streaming in through the window, and the whole hall looked up at the pale blue ceiling eagerly as they began circling the tables, looking for their owners. A dozen or so envelopes landed in front of James and Sirius, which they sorted dispassionately, and shoved into their bags; a moment later, the Daily Prophet fell onto the table. James gave the large barn owl a nibble of his toast, then quickly unrolled the newspaper and scanned the front page.

"'Death Eater involvement suspected', that's like a bloody mantra these days," he muttered after a while. Then he slid the paper to Sirius, who put down his fork and read the headline.

Muggleborn Ministry Official Disapperances

Sirius shook his head glumly.

"What is it?" Peter asked.

"More of the same," he sighed.

"Why is nobody doing anything about this?" Remus said bewildered. "To me, it seems perfectly obvious that there is a bloody war going on here, and nobody seems to be doing anything significant! I mean, for Merlin's sake, how is heart-shaped dandruff helping anyone?" Angrily, he brushed the confetti from his hair.