Scantily Clad
By
Snuffles4Eva
A/N: This hit me in the most annoying place ever, mainly because I couldn't write it down there and then, and I wasn't going to be able to type it up 'til gone 11. Yet for you, loyal fanfic readers, I exchanged my beauty sleep to give you this lil' plot that popped up in my head gone 5 hours ago. Hope you like it.
Disclaimer: Huh. Even at gone 1 in the morning I still hate these things. Maybe – like Lily – I will blame it on my cat. Even though I don't have a cat. Anyway it's not mine.
The evanescent glow from the dying embers was all the light the smouldering ash masquerading as a fire gave out at 2 in the morning. A pair of emerald eyes squinted in the near-darkness, once again wishing for a light switch, and cursing Hogwarts' archaic tendencies. Sighing, she picked up her wand from where it was resting casually on the coffee table in front of her, and conjured a tape measure. 3'4". The figure gave a gentle moan, and picked up her quill. Only one more inch to go. She shifted closer to the fire as to glean as much of the meagre supply of light it was emitting as possible, only to knock her inkpot over when it gave a rather vicious 'bang!'. Groaning once again, the figure picked up her ink pot, whispering 'Scourgify'. She glanced at her watch, and, upon discovering it was past two in the morning, started to gather her things.
Even Lily Evans was not that studious.
Fumbling sleepily up the stone staircase, Lily reached the top, and, upon finding a door, felt for the handle. It took several minutes to find, by which time she had received several splinters, but, mumbling a few choice curse words, she finally found it, and jerked it swiftly. Stumbling through the doorway, she barely caught hold of the dresser before she fell flat on her face. Feeling around for her favourite book, she froze.
It wasn't there.
She always kept it there… Most of the time, anyway. With a slight shrug of her shoulders, Lily dismissed the doubtful thoughts to the back of her mind. She'd probably just left it in her bedside cabinet.
Unceremoniously dropping her heavy school bag to the floor with a rather loud crash, Lily hoped she hadn't crushed anything important, but right now she couldn't care. All she wished for was to curl up in her welcoming bed, and let sleep overtake her consciousness as she wondered at liberty where she wished in her dreams. It was too late – or early – for any sensitive thought. Caring only applied to the civilised hours.
Pulling off her heavy Hogwarts robe, she dropped it where she stood, too tired to do anything else with it. She knew she would have to tidy up later in the morning, but now it was time for sleeping, like any other sane human being.
Free from her thick robe, she shrugged off her blouse and unzipped her skirt, these floating to the floor to join the discarded item. Now walking to the bed, she pulled off her tights, and dropped those to the floor to complete the pile of clothes.
Reaching her destination, she sat on the bed, clad only in her bra and pants. Shoving her hand under the pillow to retrieve her nightwear, Lily's brow furrowed. Her searching hand failed to find the soft flannel she usually slept in, so she stood, and, leaning over, stuck her other hand under the pillow. Still there was no trace of the comfy pyjamas she rested in, but there was something heavy on the pillow. Something heavy – and warm.
It was probably just Mr Tugs. Mr Tugs was Lily's tabby, faithful friend and confidant. He often lay on her pillows for a cat nap. It was no big deal.
'C'mon Mr Tugs' she crooned 'Get off my pillow'
The suspiciously heavy and warm thing did not move.
'Mr Tugs' Lily was beginning to get a little irritated. A cat was standing in the way of her and her sleep. A dangerous position to be face with at two in the morning. Still the thing made no movement.
Her anger swiftly peaking, she reached forward, only to notice something black on the floor. Something that bore a rather striking resemblance to a pair of socks. Groggily Lily registered that she didn't remember owning a pair of socks like that, but her brain was more focused on getting Mr Tugs off of her pillow so she could finally find her trusty flannel pjs and climb into her loving bed. Feeling blindly for his fur, she found it, only to hear a voice that made her blood run cold.
'Lumos' She froze.
'Evans?'
A/N: Worth it? Was it a fair exchange for my beauty sleep? The answer may change if you meet me – I need as much beauty help as I can get!
Reviews are much appreciated,
Snuffles4Eva