Lily Evans [ HP ] (ex_spring_fl387) wrote in muddled_magic, @ 2009-01-04 12:56:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | 09 1976, @hogwarts, lily evans |
September 4, 1976 - A Summer of Dust
Who: Lily
Where: An alcove near the Slytherin commons
When: Sunday morning
Rating: G
Status: Closed, completed
Summary: Lily knows of an alcove where she used to meet a friend ... she wants to clean it up.
She'd found it her third year, and she'd shown it to him shortly after. There were several places in the castle to hide when one wanted to be alone with someone, away from prying eyes, but this one had always been her favorite. It held the best memories, and Lily smiled to herself as she eased beneath the tapestry covering the entrance.
The room wasn't much larger than a closet - a moderately sized closet - but it had suited their purposes. A place for her to hide away from Potter when he got over-ambitious, a place for her to talk to Severus alone when she didn't feel like the eyes and the questions - especially last year.
She hadn't been here since ... well, since before their OWLs.
From the looks of the room, neither had anyone else.
Letting the tapestry drop behind her, plunging the room into perfect blackness, she started forward. There was a candle, somewhere, and fumbling fingers found the ledge it was on. She lit it with the tip of her wand before regarding the room in the scant glow of the candle. Dust, everywhere - an entire summer's worth.
Well, that was mended easily enough. Turning a slow circle in the center of the room, Lily flicked her wand as she murmured words of cleaning spells to chase the dust and dirt and a bit of the forgotten, musty scent away.
Once it was clean enough, she settled onto one of the bench-like stone ledges, thinking she should bring in another candle to replace the one they had. While she'd like to bring in a scented one, she thought that might catch attention - people would wonder why the dungeons suddenly smelled like vanilla or strawberry or something.
Would he even check here, she wondered. It wasn't unusual for her to stop in when she patrolled, and sometimes last year he'd been waiting in here for her on nights she patrolled. Not every time, but often enough that she got into the habit of checking here at the end of her rounds. Would he see she'd cleaned it up? Would he be waiting tomorrow night?
She doubted it on all counts, but she knew she'd come check anyway.
Behind her, the candle fizzled and died, leaving her in darkness.
Definitely time for a new candle then. She made a note to try to remember when she went back up to the commons - but for now, she was content enough to sit in the dark. To remember. To reflect. To wonder.