The smell of smoke clogged up the air of the Room of Requirement. Laughter and shouts of winners and the groans of losers only added to the crescendo of noise. Lily Evans and Cora Smitthe were standing in a corner, downing drinks as if their life depended on it, and prepared for the rest of the night.
"Damn," Lily hissed, throwing back another shot. She discarded it on to the barmen's table, throwing it perhaps a little to hard for it chipped upon impact with the wood. She gave a dry laugh and looked over at Cora.
"How you commin'?" She asked her friend, observing the wan look on her face.
"Eh. We've had better nights." Cora smiled glumly. She picked up one of the trays laden with full shot glasses and hoisted it up onto her shoulder. She turned to walk away but Lily stopped her.
"We need more business. I've been thinking, we should appeal to our customer's needs…or wants, per say."
"Your point?" Core raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at her.
Lily smiled evilly. "Time to break out the big guns."
-----
Twenty minutes later, the girls reentered the room. At a first glance, you wouldn't notice anything different, but, as you peered through the smoke, you could notice a complete change in outfit.
Lily's plain black t-shirt and slacks had been replaced with an impossibly short pair of shorts and belly shirt that revealed her taut, pale stomach and belly button ring. Strapped to her feet were deathly heels that clacked against the floor as she carried drinks from the different gambling tables.
Wolf-whistles carried across the room as she walked forward, confident in her mission. After emptying her tray she scouted out her first victim. Her eyes landed on a Slytherin of medium height and stunning white-blond hair. She sashayed over and laid a seducing hand on his shoulder. "Nice hand." She said, sitting down on the arm of his chair.
On instinct, he threaded his arm around her waist and pulled her close. "Now how did a sweet girl like you end up working in an underground gambling tournament?"
Lily snorted and pulled herself onto his lap, and pushed her chest forward so that his eyes were automatically drawn to it. "Hon, I run this thing."
The Slytherin laughed and pulled her closer. "Never would I imagine that a Gryffindor fourth year could put on a poker game. Let alone a bar and tournament with it. Still don't, actually."
Lily sat up, an evil smile plastered on her face. "You want me to show you?"
-----
Thirty minutes later, Lily and the Slytherin whose name she had yet to learn were gathered around the poker table. A crowd had them surrounded, entranced by their faces which betrayed no emotion, and the cards that seemed to appear from no where to make the perfect move.
"Hit me," Lily ordered, still quite somber, while her partner slumped against the table, completely intoxicated.
He mumbled a few unintelligible words and only the last one was even partway coherent. "Shit." He slammed his cards down on the table, and it was clear that he was the loser. Lily cackled sadistically and raked the many piles of galleons over to her.
This was the beginning of a new tradition.
-----
Okay. New story. If you're wondering why I choose to write such morbid and depressing stories with a dark plot, the answer is simple: Cliches make me sick. I'm not exaggerating. There are very few that are tolerable, and those I have read multiple times. I am convinced that some drama had to happen to the golden couple, and it is now my mission to find out what it was. Or just make it up. D
R&R, you know the drill.
