𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 [𝐣.𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫]

22: 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔰𝔨𝔢𝔶 {𝔭𝔱. 𝔦}

A single golden feather lay in a delicate velvet box, which had been stuffed with tissues. Brigitte openly gasped in astonishment, her hands shaking slightly as she peered in to get a closer look at the gossamer plume.

The feather was small but exquisite nonetheless, and Brigitte marveled at its round shape, carefully tapering towards the top. It looked soft, a gorgeous gold sheen covering its undisturbed barbules. It must've been half the size of her index finger, and yet it was the most ravishing item she'd ever experienced. She scarcely wanted to breathe on it, for fear of disturbing its vane.

James shifted his weight from his right foot to his left, then back again, scratching the back of his neck. "Do you, er, like it? I'm sorry, Remus said you liked magical creatures, and I wasn't really sure- but I mean, my dad- erm, sorry, I'm not making much sense, am I?"

Brigitte's gaze snapped back towards him, her eyes disbelieving. She carefully snapped the box closed, her heart fluttering as though a thousand butterflies had become lodged within her stomach. "Was that...?"

"Yeah," James breathed, a small smile spreading across his lips. "A golden snidget feather, if that's what you mean. Don't worry- the snidget wasn't hurt, he was already beginning to shed, I just thought you might find it cool. Is it okay?"

She nodded a string of laughter breaking free from her lungs. "Oh my- thank you! How did you even know where to find one? They're an endangered species, Ministry classified XXXX, they were hunted for so long, you know, it was so horrible."

She paused, clearing her throat awkwardly. She didn't often share any personal interests, other than the superficial. She braced herself for his bored look, amusing her temporarily and disparagingly. Instead, he's looking at her earnestly, mouth slightly parted in what appeared to be profound interest. "How-how did you manage to get its feather?"

"My father's a potioneer." He's playing with his sleeves now, picking at stray threads until Brigitte began to fear his robes were going to unravel themselves. "He works with magizoologists to supply some animal bits for potions, and he's friends with that guy who wrote the Care for Magical Creatures textbook."

Brigitte's eyes widened in realization, biting back her tongue from asking a plethora of questions.

"Anyway, Mr. Scammander gives my dad an owl every time an animal is shedding, so I sent a letter to my dad and asked him if there were animal bits he wasn't planning on using. As it turns out, he had extra mermaid tears and a spare snidget feather. I thought it was sad that a mermaid had cried, and winter holidays are meant to be happy, so I thought the feather would be nice."

Brigitte nodded, feeling the velvet brush against her fingertips. It wasn't a particularly extravagant gift, entire Snidget pelts had been sold before, much to her displeasure, but there was something so special about James's attentiveness. She hadn't thought to even get him a present- let alone ask his friends about his secret interests.

"Thank you. Really, Potter."

James only nodded absentmindedly, his cheeks coloring a vivid shade of pink.

********

TW: Men making things weird/pressured into snogging

"Hiya Brigitte!" James grinned, waving her over eagerly. A bottle of Firewhiskey was held loosely by the rim, dangling precariously from his hand. James looked as though he'd drank his fill already, for it was the third time he'd greeted her in the exact same fashion, his words getting more and more slurred each time she passed by.

"Hello, James," she said, tipping the burning liquid down her throat. The familiar sensation of having swallowed molten lava quickly overcame her, and she suppressed a wince, lighting a cigarette in hopes of dulling the lingering burn.