To be fair, the morning had started out as boring as usual. Though this time she woke up too early, again. Napping was futile, so she gave up and worked on the prompts filling her inbox.
About three Lance minifics later, she decided food was in order. Humming, she decided to finish one more prompt before moving from her comfy, warm nest of blankets.
After posting said fic from the tiny, crappy phone she’d dug up from a drawer somewhere, she checked her dash before doing a double take at her follower count.
564 people followed her blog. “Holy shit, what the fuck? My writing isn’t even that good?” She wheezed, glad she hadn’t drunk anything or she definitely would have pulled a spit-take. Though, if she said anything about her low confidence in her writing, someone would say otherwise. That usually helped, actually. But, she kept it to herself, mostly. If people enjoyed it, she’d keep writing.
She smiled and started writing appreciation for the 500 plus people following her tiny blog, happy that her blog made others happy too.
“Thank you for over 500 followers guys!”
On her first Valentine’s Day at Hogwarts, Lily received
lilies from five different people. She loved them because she knew her friends
and that one boy from Hufflepuff had good intentions. She knew they thought
it’d be cute to give Lily the flower she was named after. Everyone always
thought it would be.
After going through it for so many years, Lily should have
seen it coming and warned them. Perhaps she could have worn a sign around her
neck starting a week prior that read: I
do not like lilies.
But despite how unoriginal the flowers were, she carried
them around proudly all day. They were beautiful after all. And she may have
woken up too late to shower that morning so their sweet perfume was welcome.
That night she sprawled on her back on the floor by the fire
with Mary and Marlene. They giggled about all the couples they had seen that
day and the boy who had given Mary chocolates. Suddenly, James Potter’s face
was looming above Lily’s.
“What on earth are you doing, Potter?” she exclaimed,
bolting upright and nearly smacking her forehead against his. He muttered
something incoherent before dropping a flower into her lap and bolting toward
the boy’s dormitories.
“What was that about?” Marlene asked. Still lying down, she
and Mary couldn’t see what James had given Lily.
“Nothing,” Lily said as she slipped the perfect pink peony
into the billowy sleeve of her robes. How he knew her favorite flower was a
mystery to her. But even more mysterious was the heat spreading across her face
and the pounding of her heart. Stupid James had given her some sort of prank
flower that made her feel sick. That had to be it. There was no other
Still. She kept the flower between the pages of one of her