Vegetated Development

Co-written with the lovely Sarah Kavanagh.

Warnings: Some crack, some references to Arrested Development, vengeful rats and onion breath.

Episode One: Carrot Cuddling

It was only when James had a pair of carrot-filled knickers on his head that he realized he was in love with Lily Evans. He also decided that he should put his glasses back on, as he had just proved that the whole `carrots improve your eyesight' thing was total bullshit.

Lily just shook her head and said, voice dripping with condescension, “You're an idiot. And how'd you get my knickers? I thought I'd locked that drawer after the last panty incident.”

James screamed like a girl, and winced as every carrot fell out of the knickers and onto the floor, as he hadn't even known that Lily-the-love-of-his-life-formerly-known-as-just-plain-Lily was there, because he couldn't see, because he didn't have his glasses on, in case we weren't clear about that.

Out of nowhere (well, obviously it came from somewhere, but do keep up about James not having the glasses. Honestly, are you that thick?), a hand rammed against the side of James' now carrot-less head. And it hurt. A lot.

“Ow,” he cried, lamenting the loss of about five IQ points.

“The innocent act looks atrocious on you, Potter,” said Lily, who was apparently still there. James would've bet all his carrots that she had been the one who'd hit him. Bitchcake. Lovable bitchcake, his mind amended.

“Lily,” he said. “I've had an epiphany!”

“I hope it's more of an epiphany than your realization that butter is better than margarine. Which,” she added, more to herself than to him, “is total bullshit.”

“Mere trifles, Lily dear,” said James, with a wave of his hand. “Just let me get my glasses so that I can see you properly. And, ah, here are your knickers.” He fumbled around in his pockets for a moment until he found his glasses and put them back on, and bent his head so that she could pluck her knickers from atop it. “Isn't it funny how it took the loss of my glasses for me to see things clearly?”

“I would use less of the word `funny', more of the word `absolutely mad.” She snatched the knickers and shoved them into her pocket. They fell out, but she grabbed them before they hit the ground and hid them in her schoolbag.

“Mad I may be, but absolutely mad I am not!” he protested, grabbing her shoulders dramatically. “I am mad, mad about you!”

“Oh god,” she breathed, panic spreading across her features. They were quite lovely features, even filled with anxiety one would see one a person about to get hit by a lorry. “Please tell me you're joking.”

“No, I'm not! I love you!”

“Fuck.” She blew a strand of hair out of her face. “I don't suppose there's a way for me to make you fall out of love with me, or better yet, despise me again. I was fond of the way we couldn't stand each other. Don't you want to go back to that?”

“But there's the rub! I never despised you; my taunting and teasing was merely a cover for my deep, unending love! Love for you! There is no way that I could ever not love you!”

Lily stamped her foot on the ground in frustration. (And looked exceedingly good doing so, James noted.) “I insist that you hate me!”

“I can't! This only makes me love you more! I must kiss you now, or I shall perish in the fire of my own misery.” He still hadn't let go of her shoulders and noted, with glee, that she hadn't made any effort to shake his hands off, so he started to massage them gently.

“Would you stop that?” shouted Lily, attempting to shrug free of his hands. “And if you kiss me, I'll be forced to kill you. Wouldn't that make you hate me again?”

“If kissing you now shall eventually result in my death, then I am prepared to die!” He pulled her closer. “Well, maybe not right now, I mean, I'd need some time to pick out a nice coffin and make sure that Sirius writes a fitting and tragic eulogy.”

“Damn it, I'll write your bloody eulogy if you'll only let go!” She pushed him away.

“Well, I'm not going to die now, am I?” he protested, running a hand through his hair, which had wilted a little because of the stinging rejection. “Unless I kill myself, but I wouldn't want you to blame yourself for breaking my heart.”

“Oh, believe me, I would sooner take the blame for the invention of canned figs.” She backed away slowly. “And trust me, I'd never want the credit for that joke of a food. If I were you, which I'm glad I'm not, I would still fear for my life because you are scaring me,” she hissed.

“Oh,” he said, gallantly trying to hide his quivering lip, because he really did love her. “I didn't mean to scare you, Lily. I just thought that if I was a tad overdramatic, then it might lighten the mood, or make you laugh or something. I've never really told anyone that I loved them before, except for singing sensation Selina Wallebricker, and I was only five then. I really do love you, however, and I know that for sure because…well, I'm not five.” He sighed, and tried in vain to make his hair stand up again.

“Yeah, well…” She stopped moving away and folded her arms. “You did scare me, and I don't appreciate being told I'm loved by the likes of you.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, and about the knickers. On my life, I didn't know they were yours. Sirius got them for me and it was a stupid dare and…yeah. I'm going to go.” He turned sadly away, very saddened because the love of his life wanted to boil his insides with many carrots, most likely. “I'll not bother you again. Sorry.”

“Wait!” Lily took a step forward, dropping her hands to the side. “It's just… carrots are my favorite vegetable, and I thought since you had them in my knickers… well, it was stupid, what I thought.” She shook her head. “I'm sorry for… wait, I'm not sorry. Except for maybe threatening to kill you. And for bringing up canned figs,” she added, shuddering.

James, who had whipped (hopefully) around, went beet red and picked up the nearest carrot he could see. “Do you want one? No, urgh.” He dropped it again. “It's been on the floor, and in your knickers, although I'm sure they were clean. I should…erm.” He turned away from her, turned back, and turned away again, letting out a groan. When he turned to face her for the final time, he was looking dejected again. “I really am sorry, that was not the best way to tell the girl I love that I love her, but it had only just hit me that I do. You see, I was thinking about you and I thought, `Why am I always thinking about Evans?' especially since I should have been thinking about the whole carrot-eyesight thing, and then I realized that I love you. I'm an idiot, yeah.” And then he turned away again, as red as a poppy on crack.

For a long moment, Lily stared at the ground silently. James was just about to abandon hope when she looked up and asked, “Where did you get the carrots? Because I could do with one right now, and maybe you could….”

“Tell you where to get them?” he finished, trying to be helpful. “I got them in the kitchens. You're very pretty. I'll shut up now.”

Lily blinked. “Erm… I don't know where the kitchens are, actually,” she said, blushing.

“Oh, well, erm, I can show you, and then run away, if you like. I feel very awkward right now,” said James, scratching his nose to disguise his embarrassment, a move which was ruined because he was basically telling her that he was embarrassed.

Lucky for him, it seemed that Lily was too embarrassed about her own behavior to notice the logical fallacy in James' actions. “You wouldn't… have to run away. I expect that the house-elves would want you to stick around… or something….”

“Er, right. Ok, well, let's go, shall we?” He stuck out his hand before quickly withdrawing it and going as red as a poppy on crack and ecstasy. “I didn't mean that, I'm sorry. I'm going to stop being an idiot in a minute.”

“Don't,” she blurted, then slapped a hand over her mouth. She briefly closed her eyes, then opened them and forced her hand back to her side. “Let's go before either of us says something else we regret.”

James, who was finally coming out of his haze of mortification, shook his head and said, “What could you possibly say that you'd regret later, Lily?”

“You really are a lot thicker with your glasses on, aren't you?”

“Not really, I just find it hard to think clearly around you. I could take them off if you like, though,” he offered.

She rolled her eyes. “James, shut up before I shove those dirty carrots in your ears.”

“Yes, my love.” He clamped his lips shut and gestured down the corridor.

“Don't call me that.”

“Sorry. Shall I just call you Evans?”

“No….”

“Pillow-pants?”

“Was that a hint about my bum? I'll have you know, it's naturally that large, and if some people can't—”

“Nonono! I love your bum, and I'm sure that it's naturally that,” he swallowed. “Lovely. I don't know where pillow-pants came from, I was trying to be… to be, I don't know.”

She halted and stared. “Do I need to be blunt with you?”

“Wait, no! I'd rather not hear it. I should leave.” He held up a hand to silence her before she could interrupt. “At least, this way, I can pretend that I might have been able to have a chance with you and was too dumb to see it, instead of hearing you say that you hate me again. I'm really sorry, I love you…..bye.”

And with that, he ran away.

Lily blew out a slow breath. “I can't seem to give this away,” she muttered. “Couldn't have even told me where the kitchens were. I could really do with a carrot….” She looked up and down the corridor. “Now, where did Sirius go? There's a man who knows his carrots….”

Just then, James came running back. He reached Lily, dumped a bag full of fresh carrots in her arms and threw his arms around her before she could even register his appearance.

“Sorry, I just had to,” said he, apologetically, as he let go of her and ran away. He half-tripped over his own laces as he did so, but kept running nevertheless.

“Damn pasta!” he shouted.

And then, he was gone.

Lily looked down at the carrots. They did look awfully delicious, so she plopped down on the ground and began to eat them. And, by Merlin, they were the tastiest carrots she'd ever had.

And thus ended Lily's search for carrots. I hope you've all learned an important lesson: if you want vegetables, make a boy fall for you.

The End

Next week on Vegetated Development: Radish Romancing

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Warnings: Some crack, some references to Arrested Development, vengeful rats and onion breath.

Episode Two: Lettuce Love

James Potter loved lettuce. In fact, lettuce seemed to be the only thing left in his life (besides his friends, but they don’t feature in this story, so fuck them) that made him happy. You see, just a week ago, he had, in an unforeseen move, announced his love for Lily Evans to Lily Evans herself. She had turned him down, seemingly more interested in carrots than she was in him. Thus, he was very depressed. So he was sitting in the quietest corner of the library, chomping dejectedly on his iceberg lettuce and feeling very sorry for himself.

“There you are,” came the voice of aforementioned love, Lily Evans. Her eyes were the color of James’ favorite kind of lettuce. He couldn’t remember the name, so maybe, he thought, he liked the lettuce because it looked like her eyes, instead of the other way ‘round.

“Yes, er, I am here,” he replied, thinking that her hair reminded him of cherry tomatoes, which always went well with lettuce. “Hello, Lily.”

“Is that what we decided you’d call me?” she asked, sliding into the seat across from him. “Because I thought you were going to call me CushionTrousers, or some other such nonsense. Not,” she quickly added, “that I want you to call me that.”

“I’d be a tad worried if you did,” he said, longing to leap across the table and kiss her until Madame Pince found them and told them to get out of the library for acting like lovesick teenagers in a public place, but he thought that Lily wouldn’t really go for that. “What can I do you for? I mean, eh, ah, erm, what can I do for you?”

Lowering her voice, she told him, “Another pair of my knickers has gone missing, and I was wondering if you’d seen them.”

“Merlin no, I haven’t. And I don’t think it was Sirius either. I could have murdered him for what he did last week. Let’s just say that he’s been finding it hard to sit down lately and I don’t think he’ll ever like carrots again.”

She just stared. “I don’t follow.”

“Oh, I kicked him in the arse and put a hair in his carrots,” he explained, laughing inwardly at Sirius and his unexplainable fear of finding hairs in his food.

“Thank god,” Lily said, letting out a breath of relief. “I thought—nevermind. It doesn’t matter. Do you know who might’ve taken my knickers? They were my favorite pair.”

James went red, because he couldn’t think about Lily’s knickers without thinking about Lily wearing them, which may have been a pleasant thought, but not when she was sitting right across from him. “Honestly, I wouldn’t have a clue. Perhaps they got lost in the wash?”

“I don’t think so.” She slumped in her seat. “The house-elves have never lost anything of mine before. Say, is that iceberg lettuce?” she asked suspiciously.

“Yes, it is. I got it from the kitchens, after paying the house-elves to steal your knickers.”

“Of course! You got iceberg lettuce because that’s what’s on my favorite pair of knickers. Why didn’t I piece it together earlier?”

“I’m a knicker-stealing mastermind. Except that I was joking. Your knickers are probably stuffed in your trunk somewhere, or you’re wearing them and have forgotten that you are. I could check, if you like.” He mentally berated himself for his own boldness, but he felt like he had to put on a composed front after last week’s fiasco. He tried to casually lean on the desk with one arm, but is elbow slipped and he hit his funny bone.

It seemed like luck was on James’ side once again, for Lily was too caught up mentally sorting through her trunk to notice either his come on or his self-injury. “It’s possible, but I organize my knickers pretty thoroughly, and the lettuce knickers were not in their assigned place. I can’t think of where else they might be.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Maybe Tina stole them.… She is a bit of a yoinker….”

“Er, right,” James agreed. “Is there a logical reason for Tina to do that, though? I know that she has a bit of a crush on you, but so does anybody with a bit of sense.”

“Of course there’s no logical reason,” chided Lily. “There is, however, a logical reason to give me some of your lettuce. They’re not my favorite knickers for nothing, you know,” she said, eyeing James’ scrumptious lettuce.

“You would like to partake in the eating of my lettuce, hmm?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at Lily and running a hand through his hair, which had since regained its messy springy-ness. “And what do I get in return? You know, if I let you partake in this here lettuce-feast. Well?”

“Oh,” Lily said, sounding crestfallen. “You mean you expect something in return?” She sighed. “Very well. What do you want? So long as it doesn’t involve any of my knickers, especially the lettuce ones.”

James was caught. He had never expected her to agree. The possibilities ran through his head like somebody on crack, who runs. Yeah.

“Well, I don’t know, I didn’t think you’d agree to actually give me something in return. What do you think?” James was desperately hoping that her payment would be some form of physical affection, and he suspected that she knew this, but he didn’t want to push his luck.

“I don’t have any money on me….” She rummaged through her schoolbag in search of something to offer, but turned up nothing. “I don’t suppose you’d give some to me out of the kindness of your heart. You are rather lacking in that department, after all.”

Without any hesitation, James pushed every scrap of lettuce he had towards her. “Of course you can have some, as much as you like,” he said eagerly. “And that wasn’t very suave of me, was it?”

Lily raised her eyebrows. “I don’t know if I want your lettuce now. Why are you suddenly feeling so charitable? If I’d asked two weeks ago, you’d never have given me your lettuce. Unless,” she said triumphantly, sitting up straight in her seat, “you poisoned it!”

“Or,” he argued, “since you already know that I’m hopelessly in love with you, there’s no real point in my pretending to dislike you any more. And I didn’t poison the lettuce, I’ve been eating it for the past ten minutes. Would I do that if it was poisoned?”

“Why, you’d do it if you’d already taken the antidote, of course. Or if you’d spent the last ten years building up an immunity to the poison in preparation for such an event,” she said. “There are literally dozens of explanations for why you would’ve poisoned the lettuce.”

James felt a stab of annoyance. It is not very nice to be turned down by the girl you’re in love with, but even worse when she deliberately ignores the fact. “Or maybe I just wanted to be nice to you. Make up for the past six years of being a twat. It’s fine, though. Don’t eat it if you don’t want to. I’m going.” And with that, he rose from his seat, with a mind to go to his dorm and cry in the shower.

“You’re leaving? Then it must be poisoned!” Lily leapt out of her seat and pointed her finger at James. “Murderer!” she shouted. “You’re trying to kill me, just like you killed my knickers!”

James was not in the mood to jest, however. “Lily, I’m really not in the mood to jest. Frankly, I’m a bit depressed at the moment and you being here is not helping one bit.”

Letting her finger drop, Lily’s expression went from accusatory to sympathetic. “I’m sorry I was so accusatory. I understand what it’s like to be suspected of something that you didn’t do.” She muttered, “Stupid walruses.”

“I don’t really understand what you’re talking about, Lily. If this is your way of trying to make me fall out of love with you, I’m sorry to tell you that it isn’t working.”

“Fuck.” She huffed. “Look, just tell me if you see my knickers anywhere, all right?”

“Yeah. It’s ok. Unrequited hate must be the worst thing ever. I’ll see you around, Evans. Enjoy my lettuce.”

And with that, he ran away.

Plopping into her seat, Lily began to munch on the lettuce. “Stupid boys. Stupid knickers. Stupid walruses.”

And with that, Tina ran wildly through the library, a pair of lettuce-decorated knickers on her head. She was soon followed by James, who ran up to Lily and shouted, “I saw them! Tina the Yoinker has them!”

And before Lily could say another word, James ran away again.

She bit into another leaf of lettuce, and, by Merlin, it was the third best lettuce she’d ever had.

And thus ended Lily’s search for her knickers. I hope you’ve all learned an important lesson: if you want the boy you’re secretly in love with to give you lettuce, misplace your knickers. Or leave them in an unsafe place, like in front of a bunch of walruses.

The End

Next week on Vegetated Development: Artichoke Adoration

Warnings: Some crack, some references to Arrested Development, vengeful rats and onion breath.

Episode Three: Turnip Trysts

James Potter’s left hand had suddenly turned into a turnip. He wasn’t sure how it had happened. One minute he’d been sitting calmly in the common room, innocently placing a time-release Dungbomb under the chair in front of the fireplace, and the next thing he knew, his hand had morphed into a vegetable. It was quite unnerving.

“Damn, double damn, and a pint of damn for the weekend!” he barked, as he really liked his left hand. He was right-handed, but had conveniently forgotten that.

“Watch your mouth, Potter!” berated Lily Evans, poking him in the back.

“Ouch!” said James, as being poked was not pleasant (unless you were Tina the Yoinker, but she’s weird). “That was unwanted physical contact, Lily Evans!” He turned in his seat to look at the object of his desire. “My hand has been turned into a root vegetable – this is not a good time for you to poke me!”

“Having your hand turned into food is no excuse for foul language in front of the younger years.” She gestured towards the rest of the common room, which was, actually, empty except for a rat and a deaf third-year. “Don’t de-virginize their ears!”

“I’d de-virginize you, if I could,” he muttered in what he thought was a quiet voice, but actually wasn’t. Because when one’s hand gets turned into a turnip, they have difficulty controlling the volume of their voice. Also, it works for this oneshot, Turnip Trysts. Aren’t we sly foxes?

“I beg your pardon?! I heard that, you know! And so did Marjorie!” She pointed to the third-year. Who, as we have already specified, was deaf. And then Lily realized her error, and tried to fix it by saying, “She can read lips!” (She couldn’t.)

“She’s reading a book, Lily, so that blows your argument to pieces. You’re blushing. Like the idea, do you?” He tried to ruffle his hair in a suave and sexy manner, but his hand was a turnip, so it didn’t work.

Lily grimaced. “You’ve got hair in your turnip. And turnip in your hair. Ew.” After clearing her throat, she continued, “The very idea makes me wish your head had turned into a turnip. Because then… er… you couldn’t talk….”

“Ok, firstly, I could still de-virginize you without a head, and secondly, will you turn my hand back into a hand, please?” He gazed up at her with imploring eyes, which he suspected Lily found to be very appealing, but didn’t want to admit. (She did.)

“You think I would have sex with a man with a turnip for a head?” She gave a violent twitch. “That’s… I can’t even tell you how wrong that is, you perverted freak.” She made as if to poke him again, but restrained herself. “Your hand stays a turnip.”

“Poo,” said James. “I wish I wasn’t left-handed.” (He wasn’t.) Waving his turnip hand in her face, he continued, “If you turned my hand back, then it wouldn’t be a turnip, and since my head is not a turnip, but actually the head of a very handsome young man, then I could have sex with you and it wouldn’t be disgusting.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Lily said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Even more obvious than the fact that the rat was attacking Marjorie. “It would still be disgusting since you have turnip in your hair. And, of course, since you’re you.”

“Fine!” said James, brushing the turnip out of his hair and going red. “I’m lucky that I’m over you, aren’t I?” He said this because he suspected that this would secretly upset Lily very much. (It did.) “Also…I’ve just remembered that I’m not left-handed.” He quickly took his wand out of his pocket and turned his hand back into a hand. “So…nyah. Why are you over here, anyway? You never used to come over and talk to me all of the time.”

“Double damn,” muttered Lily. “I, er, had to reprimand you for cursing. And setting up traps for poor Marjorie. Hasn’t she gone through enough?”

“Marjorie was attacked by a rat three minutes ago and you didn’t notice,” James argued. “She fought it off with a bag of raisins. And if you have anything more to say, then I suggest you say it now. I have a date to get to.”

“A date?” gasped Lily. “But I thought—nevermind.” She lifted her chin. “Take the Dungbomb and get out of my sight, you turnip of a man.”

“Yes, a date. With Lindsay Bluebeard.” Lindsay Bluebeard was Lily’s worst enemy, ever since James announced that he was going on a date with her ten seconds previously. Before that, Lily hadn’t liked her very much, and James was aware of it. “And calling me a turnip is both silly and arguable, as I am clearly not one.”

“But you were,” Lily pointed out, rather weakly. “Besides, only a turnip would date Bluebeard. She sounds like a pirate, for Merlin’s sake. Are you going to stab her with your turnip?”

“Pirates are cool, and Lindsay Bluebeard is a very nice girl. Why should you care who I date? I figured that as long as I’m not pursuing you, you’re perfectly happy. And your argument is still moot, because I only had a turnip hand.” He rose from his seat and stood directly in front of Lily, feeling secretly gloomy because he didn’t want to date Lindsay Bluebeard and he still loved Lily very, very much. Lily was very beautiful, intelligent, kind and funny. Lindsay Bluebeard, on the other hand, was slightly ditzy and smelled of blue paint.

“Well, then, fine! Go ahead and date that rude gus!” Lily poked him in the chest. “See if I care, you troublesome turniphead!”

“Fine, I will!” he shouted. “I’m, I’m…er…really glad that I don’t love you any more, you, you, marginally-wonderful former goddess!”

And with that, he ran away.

Quickly checking no one was looking (Marjorie had long-since gone chasing after the rat that had stolen one of her precious raisins), Lily plopped down to the ground and muttered, “I’ve made a huge mistake.”

Just then, James ran back into the common room until he was right in front of Lily. He looked down at her, eyes brimming with emotion, and said, “I forgot my shoes.”

So he got them, put them on, and ran away again.

It was then that Lily spotted a bit of turnip that had fallen off of James’ hand before he’d Transfigured it back. She devoured it, and, by Merlin, it was the juiciest turnip she’d ever had.

And thus ended Lily’s search for love. (Or so she believed.) I hope you’ve all learned an important lesson: always carry a bag of raisins around in case a rat attacks you.

The End

Next week on Vegetated Development: Potato Pursuits

Warnings: Some crack, some references to Arrested Development, vengeful rats and onion breath.

Episode Four: Onion Oglings

It was very, very late (unless you are a person who works at night) when James Potter came skulking into the Gryffindor common room. On one hand, he was flushed with victory, while on the other, he was deeply depressed. He had just returned from a date with Lindsay Bluebeard, a girl whom he had absolutely no interest in, and he had managed to prevent her from snogging him by eating an onion on the way to their date. He was depressed because he actually wanted to kiss Lily Evans, whom he had, some weeks earlier, dramatically professed his love for. That hadn’t gone well.

Sighing, he ruffled his sooty hair and dropped into the chair by the fireplace, which was a bad idea because he’d left a Dungbomb under there.

“Serves you right, you self-satisfied, lettuce-hogging turniphead.” Lily Evans stood in front of him, although she was clever enough to stand far enough away to avoid the stench emanating from under his seat.

“What serves me right?” he said defiantly. He was very glad that he’d taken one of Warlock Wafflebum’s piquant breath mints before coming back to the common room. Banishing the smell with a wave of his wand, he closed his eyes. “Having to put up with you when I’m tired?”

“Setting off your own Dungbomb, of course. Don’t pretend that didn’t just happen, because I saw it, you onion-devourer.”

“Er, Lily, how did you know that I’d eaten an onion?”

“Don’t call me that.” She folded her arms. “And I know because I saw you. It’s a good thing you did, because otherwise—” She coughed and looked away.

“Because otherwise Lindsay Bluebeard would have wanted to kiss me, and I would have had a shot at happiness?” he finished for her. “Do you enjoy seeing me miserable, Lily darling?” He hoped that by calling her Lily darling, it would annoy her, because she was being very irritating at this present moment. He wanted to be left alone and eat his last onion in peace.

“What? No, I was going to say because then you would’ve been able to smell her, and she would’ve smelled like me since she stole one of my jumpers for your date.” She slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Really?” James asked, bewildered.

“Don’t think so,” she said hurriedly, after she removed her hand, obviously.

“Er, right. That wouldn’t have worked even if she was that, er, ingenious. Because I don’t love you anymore, and I don’t want to smell your jumper.”

“Well, I know that, but she’s as dumb as that delicious-looking onion you’re about to eat. She seems to think that you still love me, which we both know to be untrue.”

“Yes, it is true. Very true. Are you happy about that?”

“I’m not lying when I say I’m happy.” (Lily was lying.)

“Really? Because I noticed that you go red when you’re lying, and you’re red right now.”

Lily was, in fact, very red in the face, and was doing a poor job of hiding it, as she wasn’t trying to hide it at all. Silly girl. “That’s ridiculous. I do no such thing, not to mention there’s a perfectly logical reason why I’m re—I need to stop talking.”

“Of course there is. I know you to be an honest person. I mean, if I were to tell you that I was, in fact, still in love with you and try to kiss you right now, you would reject me like you always do.”

“Of course I’d reject you!” She murmured, but very ineffectively, “Right now….”

“I know that, so I’m not going to. Instead, I’m going to eat my onion.” James tossed his onion into the air, caught it, and took a huge bite. His eyes watered, but he remained macho. (He’d been de-machoed enough with the turnip incident.)

Lily let out a small gasp and looked longingly at the stairs to her dormitory, although she stayed in place. “I don’t think you should eat that onion,” she said, a bit breathlessly.

“And I think you look a bit peaky,” he said. “You should sit down.” With that, James darted forward with all the speed of a Quidditch captain and pulled her into his lap.

“Ohmygod.” Lily attempted to get up, but James held fast, somehow still managing to simultaneously eat his onion. “I really need to leave,” Lily pleaded. “I don’t think you understand.”

“No, I don’t understand,” he said, setting the remains of his onion aside and pulling her close to his chest. “Perhaps you could explain it to me?”

She let out a very un-macho-like squeal, which made sense, as she was a woman, and not a man dressed as a British au pair. “No, I really couldn’t!” She again tried to wrestle herself free, but really, James had some of the best Quidditch muscles ever. They were realllly hot. “Please. Let me go.”

“Why, Lily? Does my onion-breath turn you on?”

“No!” she squeaked. “Not even remotely!”

“Well, you’d be a bit weird if it did.”

“Yes, very weird.” She turned her head around to look at James, a strange look on her face. “You know, I think I know how to make you hate me again.”

“Really?” said James. “And how would you do that?”

“If I—” She shook her head and said in a small voice, “I need to leave. Right now, before I do something stupid.”

“I do stupid things all the time,” said James. “Like telling the girl I’m in love with that I don’t love her anymore, even though I do, more than ever. So if you do something stupid, I won’t hold it against you.”

“Give me the onion,” she whispered.

“Er, ok,” said James, offering her the onion, who really didn’t have a clue what was going on, only that he was being eaten, and he didn’t like it.

Lily snatched the onion, took a large bite, and crunched away at it. When she’d swallowed, she leaned in right next to James’ face. “Really, please stop me now.”

James, very confused by Lily’s urgent voice, the pungent scents in the air and the onion’s dying moans, merely shrugged.

Closing her eyes, Lily kissed him. It was weird.

Some moments later, she shoved against him with all her might and burst out of his grip. “How dare you!” she cried, backing away.

Springing from his seat, James pointed an accusing finger at Lily and spluttered, “How dare I? But- you- eh- me- you- this- but- Lily.”

And with that, he ran away.

Lily plopped down into the seat he’d just vacated and whacked her palm on her forehead. “I’ve made a huge mistake.”

Just then, James ran back into the room and headed straight towards her chair. Pulling her out of her seat, he kissed her again, let go of her and shouted, “How dare I, indeed!” He then pumped both fists into the air and ran away again.

Lily coughed and sat back down. Then she picked up the onion and shoved what remained of it in her mouth, and, by Merlin, it was the saltiest onion she’d ever had.

And thus ended Lily’s search for her ideal kiss. I hope you’ve all learned an important lesson: don’t steal jumpers so you’ll smell like other people. It’s just weird.

The End

Next week on Vegetated Development: Mushroom Moonings

Warnings: Some crack, some references to Arrested Development, vengeful rats and onion breath.

Episode Five: Kidney Bean Kisses

It occurred to James Potter, some time after he’d done it, that perhaps there were better ways to show his love than to pelt Lily Evans with kidney beans. He thought he’d got over his juvenile methods in attracting her attention, but apparently some habits die hard. And fast. (Other die slowly and rather unnoticeably, like onions, which isn’t quite a habit, but that’s beside the point.) In any case, the deed was done, and she was now charging his way. She did not look happy.

“James!” she cried, coming to a halt behind his seat in the Great Hall. “I have kidney beans in my hair. Wet, cooked kidney beans. Do you have any idea how disgusting that is?”

“Darling!” said James, even then wondering why on earth he had been throwing kidney beans at her. This would not make good progress. It could make her attraction turn to hate. He needed another way to ensnare his mate. “I…have no idea. You look very beautiful today, er, Lily.”

“Not as good as I did about two minutes ago, before you threw kidney beans at me.” She sent him her best glare, the kind that takes years of experience to get right. (Lily had years of experience.) “Why would you do that? It makes no sense!”

“I don’t know. Maybe because-“

Just then, Marjorie the deaf third-year ran into the Great Hall, waving her arms about.

“My hearing has been fixed!” she shouted gleefully. The entire Great Hall ran towards her in an act of united celebration, thus ensuring that Lily and James had privacy, which was very convenient.

“Maybe because you’re an idiot?”

“Or because you’re a…shoe.” He hung his head in shame, knowing now that he’d blown his chances of ever marrying Lily and having a baby who was born to defeat the Dark Lord with her.

“You’re such a turniphead,” Lily said, narrowing her eyes. “You stole my green bean knickers, didn’t you?”

“They were lettuce knickers, and Tina stole them. Also, you’re the one who ate my turnipy remnants.”

“I did no such thing!” exclaimed Lily. (She had.) “And I know Tina stole my lettuce knickers, but those are not the ones missing. My bean ones are missing, and you conveniently chose to throw beans at me today, which can only mean that you took them, you onion-eating pervert.”

“Oh yeah, the onion eating. That really turns you on, doesn’t it?” said James, clueless as to why he was picking a fight with the girl whom he would gladly hold in his arms and worship for the rest of his life. “You have an obsession with your own knickers, Evans.”

“Of the two of us, only one has a reason to want to even mention them – that’s me, Potter, since they are my knickers. Yet you’re the one who had them on his head!” She finished with a wag of her finger, handily ignoring the jab about her kinks.

“Well, you shouldn’t have left them lying around for Sirius to find!” James banged his fist on the table, causing Peter’s glass of pumpkin juice to fall over and spill onto his crotch (James’ crotch, not Peter’s, as Peter and the rest of the Gryffindor table were currently congratulating formerly-deaf Marjorie). “Fuck, Evans, look what you made me do!”

“That’s my line, lettuce-lover!” She jabbed him in the back. “I only left those out to satisfy the walruses. My owl died because of you and Sirius, I’ll have you know!”

“Your owl is alive, I saw him this morning. And there aren’t any walruses in this sodding school. You’re insane. Take that, Lily Po- Evans.” He went red. He’d just made a huge mistake.

“Then Sirius must have kidnapped him—wait. What did you just say?”

“I almost called you by my surname, if you must know,” said James, suddenly noticing that everyone was returning to their seats. Marjorie had left the Great Hall, and if his friends came back and saw him with a wet crotch, they would be amused. He set about drying his trousers.

“Why—that—you—” Lily huffed in indignation. “I can’t imagine a way that you could be more presumptuous, you trouser-wetting, knicker-stealing, carrot-hoarding—”

“Yeah, I know. It’s such a pity you’re in love with me,” said James, grinning as he successfully managed to dry his trousers just as Sirius took his seat beside him.

Just then, Marjorie ran into the Great Hall, screaming and shouting. There was a rat attached to her jugular. The entire Great Hall ran towards her in a united act of…well…defense, I suppose.

Lily reached down and grabbed James by the front of his robes and dragged him to his feet. Yanking him close, she spat, “I find that idea more disgusting than frying up a dead dove and eating it with raisins.”

“Really? Would you swear on your life that you believe that?”

She faltered, but only for half a moment. “I would,” she said with pride. (She was also blushing, but she was pointedly pretending that she wasn’t.)

James’ face fell and he looked crestfallen. “I was kind of hoping that you’d say no.” He sighed and gently pulled himself out of her grip, which was not very powerful at all. She had no Quidditch toned muscles. Poor girl. She did have a dictionary in her schoolbag, though.

“Why?” challenged Lily. “I thought you didn’t love me anymore. I thought you loved Pirate Face.”

“I thought we also established that I was lying,” he said, forlornly trying to throw a kidney bean into his mouth, but missing by about five inches. “And that I am still very much in love with you. You may have missed that the other night when you were sitting in my lap.”

Before Lily could respond, the entirety of Hogwarts returned to their seats after helping Marjorie defeat the loathsome rat once and for all.

Lily nervously looked at the students that were now well within hearing range. “Do you mean that?” she asked.

But James had run away.

But then he returned, arms laden with carrots. Lots and lots of carrots he’d stolen from the Hufflepuffs. He stopped short when he reached his seat and noticed that all of his friends were looking at him, most likely thinking, ‘Why does James have all those carrots?’ but also, ‘What happened to Peter’s pumpkin juice?’ Only Peter was thinking that; he often thought about himself in third person, and nobody else cared.

“Er…” said James.

At that precise moment, Marjorie came running back into the Great Hall.

“I found my raisins!”

The entire Great Hall ran towards her in a united act of celebration (again), leaving Lily and James alone, again. Proof that Déjà vu is not a glitch in the system.

“These…are for you,” said James, setting the carrots on the table in front of her.

“I… you really do love me,” Lily said, eyes widening to the size of onions. (But not really. That’d be weird.) “That’s… not too unexpected, I suppose.”

“Of course I love you,” said James, as if not loving Lily was impossible. “How could I not love you? Not loving you would be impossible. You’re everything to me.”

“Everything? I mean more to you than, say… lettuce? Or carrots?”

“Definitely! More than the entire food pyramid! And Quidditch! Even, even Sirius,” he said, lowering his voice on the last word, lest Sirius hear and fly into a jealous rage, like he did two weeks ago, when James said that he thought that Remus had marginally better calves than Sirius did.

“Wow.” Lily sounded stunned. (She was.) Suddenly a large tawny owl swooped down and landed on her shoulder. “Hugh!” she cried. “There you are! And you’ve found my bean knickers!” She grabbed her knickers from her owl, who, relieved of his delivery, flew off into the sunset. (Later. For now, he simply flew out into the early to midmorning.) A pensive look crossed her face, and then she took one of the carrots and the knickers and placed them both on her head.

It all became clear. She did love James.

“I do love you, James,” she said, throwing herself into his arms.

“Ow! You kneed me in my Jacobs!” he cried.

“Sorry!” She rearranged her knees to avoid his Charlie Browns. “It’s amazing how well this knicker-veg combination works to facilitate epiphanies.”

“I think I should sit down,” said James. He did, but sprang up a moment later.

“YOU LOVE ME!” he cried, before dropping back into his seat again. “Ouchies.”

“Be careful,” chided Lily. “You don’t want to hurt your John Thomas. I plan to use that some time in the future.”

“Kiss me now, you vixen!” he cried.

So she plopped down into his lap (avoiding his meat and two veg) and kissed him with all the passion and heat of a thousand suns. And, by Merlin, he had the happiest mouth she’d ever tasted.

And thus ended Lily’s search for her owl. I hope you’ve all learned an important lesson: always leave a note.

The End

On the epilogue of Vegetated Development: Celery Caresses