"What are you doing?" His voice cracked as he watched her lean toward him.
"What, Potter?" A smirk caught her lips as she got even closer. "Gryffindor's chaser isn't used to being chased?"
°°°
Wisteria Rose Cresskle has always been a fan of games:...
noun 1. the point in time or space at which something starts.
"Over? No, mate. Something tells me this is just the beginning."
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~*~*~*~
It was a good thing Wisteria was so good at charms, because she had neither the green thumb nor the money to buy actual flowers for one James Fleamont Potter: let alone, an entire common room full of them.
"-and this isn't even your first bouquet!" Sirius was yelling, bug-eyed as Wisteria and Mary stepped through the portrait hole, arm in arm.
"Bloody hell, Potter. Are these all yours?" McDonald asked, brown eyes wide as she tried not to let on that she knew anything. The girl had actually helped Wisteria sneak back during dinner while everyone was out and before quidditch practice. She'd even scared away a few second years who had tried to stay and do homework.
The boy in question currently stood in the center of the room, red as the athletic robes he was wearing. "Uh, yeah." He mumbled, eyes wide behind his round glasses. "I think they are."
"A wee bit embarrassing, ain't it lad?" Wisteria raised her eyebrow, curious as to whether or not he was starting to understand just how horrendous a crazy love struck fool could be. "Have you told whoever's doing this to stop?"
He gave her a puzzled look. In that moment, Wisteria realized she still had a long way to go on this rollercoaster because James Potter wasn't blushing out of embarrassment. Oh, no. Not at all. He was blushing because the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain was completely and utterly flattered.
"Embarrassed? Why on Earth would I be embarrassed?" His shocked expression had quickly become one of pure and utter delight. "This is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me! I'm honestly over the—Moony!" James cut himself off as one of his best friends slipped into the common room. "Look at this, Moons! It's all for me!" The boy began bouncing with excitement, flitting about the room as he went from bouquet to bouquet.
Remus Lupin blinked, stopping dead in his tracks as his gaze swept around the small space. Vases littered the Gryffindor common room, some on tables and chairs, others stacked on top of books and shelves. Wisteria almost grinned to herself at the beauty of it all. Maybe she would run a flower shop one day instead of her dad's bookshop. If only she wasn't so horrible with plants.
However, the sparkle in her eye disappeared as Lupin pierced her with a knowing look and a smirk. "Yeah, Prongs. All for you." Wisti had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from shrinking beneath his gaze. He kept doing that since their talk three days ago. There was no way he knew anything, right?
"They all from the same girl again, James?" Peter asked from where he sat on the couch, peeking over a few bouquets to join in on the conversation.
James nodded. "Every note I've seen so far is signed R, just like the love letters-" Love letters? I wouldn't go as far as to call them 'love letters', Wisteria thought as a blush covered her cheeks: a blush that did not go unnoticed by a certain Gryffindor prefect, "-and they have the same handwriting."
