*:･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 38: ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴀᴜɢʜɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ᴍᴇ?)
"Where's the flour?" James asked, riffling through various cabinets and cupboards as he tried to locate the desired ingredient. Valentine sighed, pointing to his left.
"Right where it was last time I told you," she said, and James shot her a look.
"Short term memory, remember?" He queried, pointing to his temple. Valentine rolled her eyes, mixing in the four as James passed it off to her.
"No, you're just stupid," Valentine snorted, using her arm to mix in the white granules. James, on the other hand, dramatically gasped.
"Like, that's true, but it's your job to support me."
"I do support you. Just because you're a little dumb doesn't mean I don't support you," Valentine stated obviously, removing the wooden spoon and passing it to him to lick off the batter. it annoyed her to no end, but he would alway demand to eat the raw batter.
"Could you guys, like, not do that?" Macey asked, scattering magenta sprinkles into bowls of dough.
"Talk?" James asks, pushing himself to sit on the edge of the counter across from Valentine.
"Yes," Macey confirmed.
Valentine grinned, using her freshly washed hands to roll out the perfectly-sized balls of sugar cookie dough.
"Special ingredient, please," Valentine requested, and Sirius leaned over the table to pass it to her. Reading over the bottle once again, she smiled in satisfaction, dumping the special powder into a bowl. She then took the sticky dough and rolled it all in the powder until it was completely covered before setting it to the side to bake. She repeated this process over and over until a single batch was left, which she chose not to cover in the special ingredient.
Valentine passed the trays off to Peter, who carefully took them and slid them into the oven, using two overly-large oven mitts on either hands to protect him from burning himself.
"You look like a lobster," Valentine laughed, pointing to the red gloves he wore. Peter lifted his hands, wiggling the mits.
"A safe, burn-free lobster," he corrects.
"Right, my bad for excluding that part," Valentine sarcastically remarked, wiping her hands on a cloth as she started to clean dirty bowls.
Polly had come over eventually, and going against what Valentine said, began to clean as well. In the long run it proved to be quite helpful; Polly had a knack for cleaning quickly.
"Who all is going into the den, then?" Sirius asked.
"That's a bit ironic, considering we're the lions and they're the snakes. Shouldn't we call it the snake den?" James queried.
