James Potter always gave Lily Evans lilies. The first lily had been clumsy pulled from the frail air with no smell and a too big head that wobbled on a weak stem. The lily was white tipped with with the same shade as her copper hair. He had been so unable to concentrate on making it (his attention was on the fact that she had finally said yes to going with him and how she looked with her hair like that) that when she touched it the petals had fallen off like snow around her. The second one was better. Every morning at breakfast, no matter what the season or hour there was a lily waiting at the side of her plate and his grin sitting next to her.
Granted, his obsession for being able to give Lily lilies meant that he needed to become better at it. Sirius thought it was grandly amusing, and Lupin used a word that sounded suspiciously like a cough described 'whipped' more then once, but he was able by the end of the month he had mastered the ability to produce all sizes, shapes, colors and types of lilies as well as having the ability to charm regular ones. He turned lilies into rainbows and crimson, he made them sing... he made them talk...
The morning of their wedding, James and Sirius had stood outside Lily's room and floated lilies into her room by the thousands, so that when she woke up the room would be filled with flowers that sang 'Lily in the sky with diamonds'. His thoughts wandered, as he wandered home. Sirius always seemed to accuse him of being a lightweight when it came to fire-whiskey...and maybe he was. After the second or third glass, he found himself rather bouncy and the words tumbled from his mouth without any sort of order or meaning.
He liked it, but he was worried about one Mister. P. Foot. Without Moony, Sirius always seemed shrunken and it worried James. So, he tried to spend as much time with his mate as he could until Moony could get back from doing whatever Dumbledore had sent him to do. So, he drank far too much, and ended up stumbling out the steps to Sirius's flat and down the street in the early hours of the morning. Today the hour was earlier (or later) then most. Four glasses of fire-whiskey, and James had almost felt (been) sick. He had been too unfocused to try and aperate (Merlin knew he might end up spliching himself, and that would be embarrassing.)
So when the first blue rays of dawn were filling the sky as he started walking down the street, he grinned a bit, and his fingers moved through his hair, poofing it up. His steps rambled as he headed to the flat that he knew was a short distance from Sirius's...if he could only find it. The smell of lilies caught him and he closed his eyes below his glasses before he followed his nose to the flower stand that was putting out it's wares. “I'll buy them all,” he said to the surprised looking muggle. “All the lilies.” He reached into his pocket, and he fumbled for the hundred dollar bill he always kept folded deep down inside. Oh, he had to find a few things first; there was the money bag with the real money, a snitch, a bag of bertie botts and his wand.
The hundred dollars was enough for the muggle not to protest when James filled his arms with the soaking wet flowers, the bundle of the mix almost as big as his arm span. His face burrowed into the petals, and he inhaled deeply. There now, he could find his way home. It was only two streets down and too the left! A rather large grin moved over his face as he headed in that direction. One he was back on wizarding streets (blimey, he had been lost hadn't he?) he climbed up the stairs and looked at the flowers again. They really could do with some improvements poor things.
Like this one, it really should be the color of Lily's eyes. He touched his wand to it, and the charm turned the white the precise jade. He frowned, and then the color shifted to her hair, and alternated between the two. Wait, he liked the white a well. Another flick of his wand and he added a third layer of color, the run to the white. He leaned back against the door, his head hitting it with a solid crack as he moved his wand over to the next lily. Purple, he decided. Lily liked purple.