*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧. Valentine Lotus was a rare girl; wickedly smart and constantly sweet. That is, unless, you get on her bad side, which James Potter just so happens to do when he dumps a canister of red paint on the wrong person.
~
In which James Pott...
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(ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 15: ᴡᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ғᴇᴛᴜs)
With the clock nearing noon and the sky bright, Valentine rolled over in her bed, sighing heavily as she sunk into the familiar mattress that she'd spent so much time in over the holiday breaks. She was pleased to see nothing in her bedroom had changed, the walls still painted a lilac purple and Hufflepuff merch hung on the walls, quidditch posters and moving images of Valentine and her friends. An old, green dream catcher hang above the bed, dangling from the fan, and a desk sat in the corner of the room, a canister of pencils and book stacked high laid on the stained wood.
Valentine lazily pulled herself up and rested against the headbored, the smell of fruits and defrosted breakfast wafting from the kitchen. Begrudgingly, Valentine slowly peeled the thick gray covers from her legs, yawning widely as she rose to her feet, stretching. While the hard floor was cold beneath her feet, she pushed through to her dresser. She scanned over the items, deciding on a pair of comfortable shorts and T-shirt, along with her undergarments.
Valentine tucked the clothing beneath her arms and opened her bedroom door, hearing her parents chatter in the kitchen. Following her normal routine, Valentine showered and got dressed, letting her naturally-curly hair air dry, opting to get a late breakfast.
"Look who's finally up," Valentine's mother teased as she saw her daughter enter the room.
"Leave the girl alone, Samantha. She needs her beauty sleep," Dad commented as he sipped coffee from his mug, winking at Valentine playfully over the rim of the cup.
Valentine grinned at him, grabbing a plate and placing a couple slices of bacon, and two waffles. She grabbed the carton of maple syrup, pouring a rather large amount of the substance.
"You're practically asking for cavities," here dad claimed, eyeing her plate warily.
"Just because you can't eat too much sugar doesn't mean I can't."
"Don't I know. You ingest so much sugar I'm surprised your teeth haven't rotted yet," Valentine's father grumbled like a child, setting down the newspaper.
"What're the plans for today?" Valentine asked, shoveling waffle down her mouth at an ungodly speed.
"I was thinking we could go to the Plaza. I know you love ice skating," Her mum suggests, and Valentine's eyes light up with excitement.
"Really? That sounds awesome!" Valentine rejoiced, smiling brightly at her parents.
"Yeah, we're awesome, we know. Now, I want to know who that little boy you were talking to yesterday at the station was," Her father cut in, giving the young girl a stern look.
"Oh, James? He's not a little boy, dad, he's in my year. Besides, you should listen to how the girls speak of him. Definitely not little in their eye-,"
