Author's Ramblings: A pointless drabble, inspired by a true story (the beginning, at least, with the sock and quill). I hope you enjoy. Please review!
P.S.: Yeah… sorry for any typos.
---Die, Thy Sock---
The sun was glistening happily on the lake, big white clouds rolling by in the sky… a perfect day stood to await all of the students at Hogwarts. But a certain redhead was in a firing temper in the seventh year Heads tower.
"You sodding sock!" she growled, lunging across the room to vainly attempt to grab her sock. Her fingers were centimeters from it when suddenly it sprung to life – again – and shot off across the carpeting and under her bed.
"Oh, that's cruel," she sighed. "No matter… there are others," she sniffed. She walked to her chest of drawers and opened the top sock drawer. She screamed as her socks began to stream out from the opening.
"It's alright, Lily," she said quietly to herself. "Just calm down. You're dreaming… you have to be dreaming."
Lily glanced back at the now closed drawer. She peaked at it suspiciously before opening it again to yet another startled scream as socks jumped out like fishes and scuttled across the floor. She slammed it shut again, panting.
"Oh, Merlin, they're alive!"
Calming herself, she selected a strategy. With great agility she opened the drawer just a crack and shoved her hand deep in to grab a single sock before any more could escape. Her hand wrapped around one of the sneaky wriggling buggers before she shut the drawer with a snap.
She eyed the sock evilly, muttering, "I've got you now, you little rascal."
Lily sat back down on the bed and began to place the sock on her remaining bare foot before it shot out of her hand like a greased Snivellus and scampered through the gap under her door and into the hall.
"Why you effing thing!" she howled at it, stomping across into the hall to see it scamper under James Potter's door. "Dammit," she hissed.
Lily Evans stood before James Potter's closed door, perfectly dressed with the exception of one foot unclothed with its normal black sock. Her twinkling red toenails shimmered as she tapped her foot impatiently.
"Potter," she snapped, striding into his room.
"Argh!" he screamed, falling with a loud bang into something metal that Lily couldn't see. She put all suspicion away at the sound, on a hunt for her sock.
"Have you see my—" she began before seeing her sock sitting innocently at the foot of his bed. "Aha!" she exclaimed walking towards it slowly.
"Lily, are you all right?" James asked stumbling back into view, his jumper pushing down on his nose, his arm protruding from the neck hole.
"Just fine," she said distractedly as she once again lunged for her sock, resulting in crumpling James's bed sheets by landing on his comforter. He grinned at the sight.
"Well, Evans, if you wanted to get kinky, all you'd had to do was ask." He pulled off the jumper and approached her, who was still in a crouched position on the bed, with a devilish grin.
"I'm not looking for a shag, Potter," she growled. "I'm in need of my sock."
"Oh… you need a sock? I only thought guys had the kind of 'feet' where a sock was needed."
Lily stared at him blankly.
"Potter, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't think such perverted thoughts. I need my sock. Now," she added for emphasis.
"Why's your sock over here?" he asked.
"It's alive and plotting against me," she said, getting up and glaring at her sock, which was now eyeing her with distaste from under James's mirror.
James stared at her.
"No, really," he said. "Why's your sock over here?"
Lily glared at him. "I'd appreciate it if you'd just help me get my sodding sock! All the other ones have already scampered off across my dorm." She threw up her hands in desperation.
James once again stared at her. "I'll lend you one of my socks – how about that?" he offered.
"And do you mean to tell me that your socks wont rebel against me?" she asked, folding her arms.
"They shouldn't… they might try to touch you and they'll purr when your feet touch them but they shouldn't run away." He grinned at his jokes.
"Harhar, Potter," Lily growled evilly. "Fine. Can I borrow a sock?"
"Gladly," James replied happily.
He approached his sock drawer and pulled out a black sock with red hearts and navy stitching. He handed it to Lily who held it limply in her hand, staring.
This sock loves Lily Evans.
"You're kidding me," she spat. "You've got to be kidding me."
"Nope," James said confidently, not catching her sour tone. "And I've got on the other pair." He pulled his feet out of his trainers to wriggle his toes in front of her with "this sock loves Lily Evans" stitched across his heel.
"And you never get mocked for these?" she asked skeptically.
"Why would I be mocked?" he asked. "I've got matching wife beaters and boxers—Sirius and I made them."
Lily gulped. "Boxers?" she asked.
James nodded before pulling down the side of his trousers to show her the same black – yet silk – solid color with "This package loves Lily Evans" written like plaid across his boxers. Lily cringed and shielded her eyes.
"I'd rather not know about your undergarments, Potter," she said, looking away.
"Aw, but I was hoping maybe we could have like a Show and Tell-like thing—" he started before being interrupted.
"Only in your dreams, Potter," Lily snapped. "Thank you for the – er – sock," she said, glancing down at it. "I'll see you later on this evening for patrol."
She held the sock in her hand as she marched out of his dorm and back into her own. She sat down on the bed and glared at the sock.
"Go on my foot or you shall die, sock," she hissed at it.
She pulled her foot up and carefully slid the sock on her foot. She wriggled her toes, flexed her arch, rolled her ankle, experimented in many ways; when she was confident it wouldn't shoot off her foot, she put on her shoe and marched out to breakfast where she would not tell anyone about her socks rebelling against her.
--
"Class, please take out parchment and your quills and record the notes upon the board," McGonagall instructed, flicking her wand as notes appeared on the board.
Lily bent down and picked up her bag and extracted her parchment and quill – ink too – to take her notes. She dipped it generously into the green ink (her favorite color) before holding it down upon the parchment, ready to write. She bit her lip and glanced back up at the chalkboard, tracing the notes back to the beginning. Before she could begin to write her quill jumped out of her hand and skipped across the classroom floor.
She stared at her empty hand blankly for a moment before her eyes widened it shock and she darted off her seat to chase her quill.
It lurked behind a Ravenclaw's chair and with ease she made to grab it before it leapt across the room. Again. She growled in anger before crawling in a hunched position (knees close to her chin and waddling like a penguin) towards the quill once again.
Once again it disappeared right as her fingers were within an inch of it. A deep grumble escaped her throat as she gave up and returned to her seat, receiving a quizzical look from McGonagall all the while. Lily sighed and looked at Alice, who sat next to her and asked to borrow a quill from her.
"I'm sorry, Lily," she said apologetically, "but this is the only quill I have."
"I've a spare quill," said a deep voice from behind her.
"Potter, I do not want your quill. I believe it to be bad enough that I have to wear one of your socks so I'd like to keep it at that and not be responsible for your quill. Does that make sense?"
"Lily," Alice leaned over and whispered in her ear. "You practically repeated that twice, I think it's very clear."
She blushed scarlet before James responded.
"Whatever suits you best."
"Thank you," Lily replied confidently. "Morwena," she asked, turning to her friend to the right of her, "you haven't a spare quill?"
Morwena wrinkled her nose in thought. "No, I'm sorry… I just lent my last one to her," she said, pointing to a girl across the room.
"Bollocks," Lily exclaimed.
"Miss Evans! I think that highly unnecessary!" McGonagall reproached.
Lily apologized before glancing around the room for a qualified person to borrow a quill from.
Yes, there were qualifications for the people lending out quills. They couldn't have a chewing habit… borrowing a quill from someone – Sirius Black, for example – that chewed on the end of their quills didn't help you hygienically in life. And it was just nasty.
The person lending you the quill couldn't have allergies or a visible cold… having seen boys scratch their snotty nose with the end of their quill had scarred Lily for life. But after that aside, there was one more factor: hotness.
Borrowing from a female was always the option, especially when the need for one was dire. But when given the option it was always the choice to borrow from a male – the ability to "forget" to give them back their quill could give you a simple reason to speak to them again – or write your house location casually on the edge of it before returning it to them.
Lily looked around as casually as possible but couldn't find a single person that fit the qualifications; ten minutes had already passed, McGonagall had glared at her a few times, and her fidgeting was becoming more pronounced. She needed a quill.
Someone from behind her cleared a throat.
Lily sighed before turning around.
"Potter?" she asked, as politely as possible.
"Evans?" he responded, smiling at her.
"Could you spare a quill?" she asked, not looking at him.
"Well… I spared you a sock earlier this morning, don't you think that was enough?" he said smoothly.
Lily was about to respond when McGonagall interrupted her.
"Miss Evans, I might expect this behavior from other students but none such as yourself! You need to get to work this instant!"
Lily nodded and apologized then returned to James with a hiss. "That was different! You voluntarily gave me the damn sock! Now could I please have a quill?"
"You told me you didn't want a quill, Evans… I'm being a good boy and following your wishes." James smiled evilly. "You didn't want a quill – I wont give you a quill."
"Miss Evans!" McGonagall shrieked. Lily apologized again.
"James Potter, give me a bloody quill or Merlin help you, I will rip off your testicles," Lily growled in a low voice.
James's eyes widened a bit at the threat yet remained defiant in not giving her a quill.
"No," he said flatly.
Lily lunged across the table at him, her hands reaching for his silky black locks.
"Give me a sodding quill, POTTER!" she screamed at him, her voice tearing at her tone.
"MISS EVANS!" McGonagall cried for the billionth time that hour. "These actions are unnecessary! Mr. Potter, please give Evans a quill before returning to your work – Evans, accept the quill and get to work."
Lily apologized once again and turned to glare at James. He handed over a quill quietly with a smirk on his face.
"Thank you," Lily hissed, taking it gruffly from his hand. She turned around and sat on her stool, glancing at the notes on the board again, ready to write when the quill shot out of her hand and back onto Potter's desk. "BOLLOCKS!" she roared.
"MISS EVANS! If I need to ask you one more time I'll have to send you to the headmaster!"
"Sorry, Professor," Lily mumbled. She glared yet once again at James. "That wasn't funny, Potter," she said scathingly.
"I kind of thought it was," Sirius said from next to James. He nodded his head in agreement to Sirius.
Just as Lily was about to hiss another threat at the scruffy boy, the bell rang. She muttered a curse under her breath and stormed out of the class with her friends.
"I'm sick of this!" she whispered madly. "Why is everything running away from me today?"
"Dunno," Alice said as they walked towards the Great Hall for lunch. They sat down at the table, reaching for food.
Lily sighed as a piece of toast slid out of her hand. "Is there some sort of slime or repellant on me or something today? Honestly – why me?"
"Because Merlin loves you and picks on you because of it," Morwena said smartly.
"Oh harhar," Lily snapped. "Very funny."
Alice and Morwena burst out laughing as a large chicken strip shot out of Lily's hand and bounced across to the opposite table and down one of the Ravenclaw girl's shirts.
"Shut up!" she hissed. "That wasn't funny!"
"Oh, Lily, it totally was," Alice said between fits of laughter.
Lily smiled. It was after all sort of funny.
"Hey – Evans," said the voice of Sirius Black.
Lily sighed. "What now, Black?" she asked.
"Try this, itgoes really good with chicken," he said calmly, handing her some ranch dressing.
"Ranch?" she asked, looking at it skeptically.
"Yes, Ranch… got a problem with Ranch, Evans?"
Lily glanced at him. "No…"
"So take it and try it," he encouraged.
Lily took it and with a scream of anguish was splattered with the substance.
"Oh! Black I will kill you!" she screamed as the Ranch continued to scamper around in circles on the table, spraying itself all over her.
"Oooo," purred James. "I like Ranch."
"Get away from me, Potter," Lily hissed. "Don't even think of it."
"But I dream of it, Evans," he said sweetly, approaching her with a devilish look in his eyes.
"Potter, do it and you'll no longer be a man," she threatened.
"It's worth the risk," he said kiddingly.
Alice giggled and took Lily's wrists and wrapped them behind her back.
"Alice, let me go!" she cried in a panic, seeing James get closer.
"Naw… you deserve it, Lily," she said jokingly.
"Ranch… yummy…" James said quietly before planting a large kiss on Lily's Ranch-covered lips. He smiled as he pressed his deeper against hers and she felt her stomach drop out in realization that she didn't hate it… as a matter of fact… she loved it.
And it all started with a sock. Die, that damn sock.