-1Disclaimer: Hogwarts etc belongs to JKR

AN: Just a cute little drabble I wrote whilst watching Fight Club in five minute bursts as my poor laptop struggled to cope with the file. Crazy mad film. I should have looked it up years ago. If you haven't yet, go watch it! But anyhow, I'm going through a bit of a colour kick, can you tell?

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Spectrum

-

Lily Evans' hair was red.

Brilliant, shocking, crimson red. Like… the Hogwarts Express. Or Gryffindor. Or the sparks that his wand had made before he bought it, or a quaffle or that lovely shade you got when the light hit that wood panel in Binns' classroom just so or the fire in the grate or the cover that that Quidditch book or the curtains in the common room or just about every little bloody thing in the Gryffindor tower.

It got a little repetitive sometimes. You'd be having a perfectly decent discussion about… quidditch, or the Great Christmas Prank, and suddenly there'd be a pause, his eyes would flicker to the door and you'd know that Lily Evans had just entered the room.

"You know, there was that one time she was walking back from Herbology."

Here we go again, he thought.

"And it was sunny."

And this was noteworthy?

"And her hair… it glowed, you know? Like it was burning."

"You mean, like she was on fire?"

To his dismay, James brightened up further.

"Yes. I'm starting to see it as, like, a physical manifestation of her fiery spirit. Like she's got so much passion her body can't hold it all in."

Sirius stared.

This really has reached an all time low.

"She's so passionate it leaks out and makes her look like her head's on fire?"

"Yes."

See? It was official. James Potter had completely lost his mind.

-

Lily Evans' hair was not orange.

Even though she claimed it was. Even though in some lights she was quite right.

It was not orange because the Chudley Cannons were orange. Polyjuice Potion was orange. In some circumstances even puss was orange. Ugly things were orange, James insisted, and Lily Evans was not ugly.

He liked to wind him up about it sometimes. There were plenty of pretty orange things, he'd say. Sunsets, for example. And… marmalade.

James would scoff at that. Marmalade was as ugly as it came.

Sunsets, however, were problematic.

"You know, there was this one time we were in Care For Magical Creatures."

Here we go again, he thought.

"And the sun was going down."

And this was noteworthy?

"And the light caught her hair and it really did look orange."

"You mean, like the Chudley Cannons?"

James frowned slightly.

"No. It was strange. It was definitely orange, but it was… pretty."

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"Like marmalade?"

"No! Marmalade's disgusting, Padfoot! I meant pretty like… sunsets."

"And that would be because the sun was setting?"

James paused again.

"Yeah. I think you're right."

…Okay…

"Yeah, that must be it. Her hair still is red, it was just that the sun was setting and the sun was orange so it made her hair look orange."

See? It was official. James Potter was totally losing touch with reality.

-

Lily Evans' favourite flowers were yellow.

Yellow lilies. A little cliché perhaps? Never!

As the flower was her name the colour was her personality. Yellow was bright and airy, yellow was the colour of smiles, the colour of spring, of the sun, of pollen and canaries. How were canaries like Lily Evans, you ask? Well, they sung prettily, as apparently she did too, though if any witnesses could be found James would not have been among them.

It amused him sometimes. You see, a daffodil technically wasn't a lily, but if it was yellow it was good enough for James. His smile would go all soppy and he'd pause to stare at them for a while, perhaps contemplating picking a few as some sort of romantic gesture. But then the moment would pass and they'd walk on. Yellow was for Hufflepuffs after all.

"You know, there was that one time we were coming back from Hogsmeade."

Here we go again, he thought.

"And she was walking really quickly."

"You mean, like she was running away from you?"

His friend shot him a glance.

"No. If she had been running away from me she wouldn't have stopped to smell the lilies sitting outside the florists."

"So she stopped to smell some flowers, big deal. She's a girl. They do stuff like that."

"Well, I was thinking-"

"I'd be careful Prongs, Moony here is living proof of what happens when you start dangerous stuff like that."

He ducked an poorly aimed blow from the werewolf.

"I was thinking, that maybe for Valentine's Day I should get her lilies rather than roses. 'Cause if she likes them that much she probably won't throw them out, and she'll think I'm sensitive and observant for getting her favourite."

"Sensitive? Prongs, she'll think what she's always thought, that you're a stalker and best avoided!"

"Well do you have any better ideas?"

"It's April. How about you start worrying about Valentine's a little closer to the event?"

"There's nothing wrong with a little bit of forward planning."

See? It was official. James Potter was even loopier than Lupin.

-

Lily Evans' eyes were green.

Emerald green, like… emeralds. Or trees. Or green fairies. Or grass in spring, or leaves in summer or the quidditch pitch when it was freshly mown or muggle traffic lights or that particular pane of stained glass in that window near the transfiguration rooms or just about any bloody thing so long as it wasn't on the person of a Slytherin.

He got a little sick of it sometimes. You'd be having a perfectly decent conversation, about… dung bombs, or girls on broomsticks, and suddenly he'd see a, well, an anything really, just so long as it was green and mildly attractive and the eyes would cloud up and the smile would go goofy and he'd go all fuzzy round the edges until Sirius wanted very dearly to slap him around the head and get him away from the subject of Lily Evans's eyes.

"You know, there was that one time when she looked at me."

Here we go again, he thought.

"And she was angry."

And this was noteworthy?

"And her eyes… they went all bright and sparkly."

"You mean, like she wanted to gut you?"

To his dismay, James brightened up further.

"Yes. But, I've got this new theory that actually she only does that as a front so that I don't realise how much she wants me."

Sirius stared.

This really has reached an all time low.

"She's angry 'cause she wants you?"

"Yes."

See? It was official. James Potter was completely and utterly insane.

-

Lily Evans' favourite earrings were blue.

Blue clouded mountain ice quartz to be precise.

Blue like clear, cool skies, or the lake in winter, like dragonflies and those little forget-me-not flowers. None of that diamond rubbish. Diamonds were cold, you see, and Lily Evans was anything but cold.

Apart from perhaps when James ventured to ask her out.

But he didn't like to mention that one.

"You know, there was this one time we were in Astronomy."

Here we go again, he thought.

"And she was talking to Alice."

Could I look any more disinterested?

"And she said something about how terrible it would be if she were to lose one of her earrings."

"Did she now?"

"Yeah, said about how they came from this really special place in some mountain range somewhere, and if she lost one she didn't think she'd be able to find a replacement."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah."

Sirius looked up. James had his plan face on.

"Well?"

"Well, I was thinking, that maybe if we… helped her lose one of those earrings…"

"Prongs, you know that won't go down well."

"No! Wait, hear me out. If we help her lose one of those earrings-"

"You mean steal."

"Yes, but you're entirely missing the point."

"Well, enlighten me."

"If we help her lose one of those earrings then I know where that stone is mined so I could send off for another pair, and she'll be so touched that I realised how much they meant to her that she'll-"

"What, fall in love with you?"

"Well, she'll at least consider Hogsmeade!"

"She'll just think you're stalking her again, mate."

"No-"

Sirius shook his head, smirking in the direction of Remus, who sat pointedly Not Hearing the conversation.

"Well, do as you will, Prongs, but did it never occur to you that if you'd 'helped her lose' that earring you'd still have it and would be able to simply hand it back without all this shipping them in from wherever rubbish?"

James looked up.

"Hey, that's not a bad idea."

See? It was official, James Potter had completely lost his better judgement.

-

Lily Evans' ink of choice was indigo.

Not blue. Not simple, watery, boring, I-love-Ravenclaw blue. Not purple either. Not flashy, pretentious, royal purple. It was deeper than 'ocean' or 'sky', brighter than 'teal' and those other sorry grey excuses for colours. More subtle than violet and not as washed out as lavender; it was brilliant and intriguing and unique.

He sometimes wished it wasn't. He sometimes wished she'd write in normal ink; in black or bog-standard blue. Black wasn't confusing, black didn't spark debate about the 'mood' of a letter, black didn't imply anything besides what was written. Black was sensible, disinclined towards inspiring poetics in love-sick teenage boys. If she wrote in black he wouldn't have to put up with James waxing lyrical about her individuality, her sense of style.

But, alas, some wishes were not to come true and Lily Evans still wrote in her problematic indigo.

"You know, there was this one time in Transfiguration-"

Here we go again, he thought.

"-Where she passed me this note."

"So…?"

"She clearly likes me."

"And how did you reach that conclusion?"

"She used her favourite colour ink."

"She used her favourite ink in the note that tells you to bugger off and pay attention to the teacher?"

"Yes."

"Right… And did it not occur to you that that was because she couldn't be bothered to change inks to a colour she liked less simply to tell you to stop staring at her?"

"No. I think really she's trying to tell me something."

"You mean something more than what's written in very plain English relating to your eyeballs and what she'd very much like to do to them where you not to redirect your focus?"

"Yeah. I think it's her being sorta symbolic. She's trying to tell me that I'm growing on her, she just needs time to adjust to the wave of new feelings she's being confronted with."

He had a proud, philosophical sort of look on his face, so Sirius simply patted his shoulder and moved to stand up.

"Remember the wise words of that mad old guy we had for DADA last year, James: 'it's content not presentation that counts!'"

"Laugh all you want Padfoot, I'm telling you, she's starting to like me!"

See, it was official, James Potter had gone completely and utterly potty.

-

Lily Evans' favourite colour was violet.

Deep, violet purple. Like thistles and heather, like western clouds as the sun went down and like amethyst beads clinking together on her collection of bracelets that didn't ever match her earrings. Call Sirius old fashioned, but he thought girls were supposed to be good at the whole coordination thing.

She had a woollen scarf knitted in violet too, a present from her grandmother. James thought it would probably smell of flowers, violets even. He wasn't sure he knew what violets smelt like but he imagined they'd be a bit like Lily. Nice and… girly.

It bought out the colour of her hair, he said. Made her glow, like an angel or fairy or one of those little things that lived in the bottoms of swamps and lured people to their deaths. Purple and (he'd pause there, not wanting to say orange because orange was ugly and Lily Evans was anything but ugly)… Purple and auburn, complimented each other, set each other off. Clashed, Sirius would venture, but James didn't like to agree to that.

"You know, there was this one time in Divination-"

Here we go again, he thought.

"And I was sitting opposite her, because-"

"Because the Professor still thinks you're soul mates because of some lines on your hands."

"Yes-"

"Don't know why you're looking so proud, Prongs. You know as well as I do that Divination's a load of old-"

"That's not the point, Padfoot. The point is even the Professor is on my side!"

Sirius gave him a dry look.

"I wasn't aware true love was about sides, Mr Prongs."

James shifted slightly.

"You're missing the point entirely."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Anyway. I was saying that I was sitting opposite her-"

"Because the fates destined it to be so or because the Professor was offended by Miss Evans' outburst regarding the relevance of his subject in the wider world?"

"Shut up, Padfoot. I told her I liked her scarf and she said 'thank you'."

"Really? She thanked you?"

"No need to look so shocked-"

"I'm just surprised, all these years I'd presumed she thought you below simple pleasantries."

"Well, she said thanks and then I asked her where she got it from, and she said her grandmother knitted it for her birthday. Then she told me that it was her favourite colour."

"You're kidding?"

"Nope."

The boy was practically beaming with pride.

"She told you her favourite colour?"

There was a pause.

"Voluntarily?"

"Yup."

"Had she no idea what she was doing, giving you that kind of ammunition?"

"I think she was taken aback by the compliment. She was probably expecting something more flashy."

"But that practically gets you off the hook for birthday, Christmas and Valentines! All you need now is her favourite chocolates and you're all set!"

"I know!"

See? It was official, Lily Evans had completely lost her mind.

-

AN: Ah, such silliness, I know.

If you've read it please review it.