Duckies
by
TeenTypist
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just like to play dress up with them.
Author's Note: This is a companion piece to Footies which I think is about a hundred times better than this, but I'll let you be the judge. I starteed writing this right after Footies and never got around to finishing it until last night.
The teachers had finished their search of the castle. Apparently, it had been a false alarm about the intruders; no one was even sure who had started it. Now all the teachers were gathered in the staff room for a quick meeting. The Head Boy and Head Girl were in charge where the students were all sleeping in the Great Hall and the ghosts were there to supervise.
Hagrid came in just a few moments after the other teachers. "The grounds 're clear, Professor Dumbledore. Not a soul in sight."
"What on earth are you wearing, Hagrid?" asked Professor McGonagall, blinking at him.
"Well, er…" he started.
"Don't badger him, Minerva. It's been a long night and we would like to return to our rooms and go to sleep," Severus Snape said icily. He was not one who liked to be woken in the middle of the night. His eye mask to block out any light that might dare attempt disturb his sleep hung around his neck.
Minerva tried to refrain from grinding her teeth. Fifteen years now as colleagues and she still couldn't stand his calling her by her first name. For Merlin's sake, she'd been his Transfiguration teacher for 6 years! He'd dropped the class after his sixth year though. "Quite right, Severus." She felt rather self-conscious herself, truth be told. There was nothing wrong with her tartan nightgown; she just preferred not to be seen with her hair down (as it was now). She had an image to keep up; if any of the students actually saw her with her hair down instead of in its usual bun they might see her as a person instead of a professor and then she'd start losing respect. That would not be allowed to happen.
"Did you need us for anything else, Albus?" asked Filius Flitwick in his squeaky little voice as he went to go sit down in a chair. Unfortunately for him, he was wearing a new blue nightshirt tonight and he hadn't yet gotten around to asking the house-elves to trim it yet. Halfway to the chair he tripped.
Professor Sprout, wearing brown and green flannels and messier than usual hair, stuck out a hand to help him up.
Before Dumbledore, sitting on top of the table, could respond, Sybil did. "My inner eye says that all is at peace within these walls."
Minerva refrained from blatantly telling her to shut-up, but instead asked, "Sybil, isn't that nightgown a little inappropriate?" Sybil. Such a chit during her school days and just as bad now. She was another one Minerva would prefer not to have as a colleague. There should be a rule about people having to wait until all their old professors were dead until they could become a teacher.
"And what, may I ask, is wrong with it?" she asked, tartly.
"Aside from that horrid shade of florescent pink? Look at yourself, you're indecent." Her nostrils flared out. So much for remaining professional; Minerva McGonagall had never been much of a night person before and she wasn't one now. In all fairness though, Sybil's nightwear was hardly decent. The straps were so thin that they looked as though they could break at any moment and it didn't even reach halfway to her knees. She tried to regain her composure. "I'm sorry, Sybil, but I do think we should all be setting a good example for the students. Modesty is a virtue; one I think some of the younger generation is lacking. Did you see what some of the girls in the Great Hall were wearing?"
Sybil Trelawny just sniffed. "At least I'm wearing more than that boy with the blanket. Besides, it gets hot in the Divination tower."
"It wouldn't if you didn't have so many candles lit all the time," muttered Sprout.
"Isn't the boy from your house, Severus?"
"Yes. I'll be having a word with Mr. Zabini in the morning. I'm sure his roommates don't appreciate his lack of proper nightwear." Severus Snape himself was wearing a green silk nightshirt, with green at the cuffs. His eye mask still hung around his neck.
"I think we'd best all check up on the students downstairs, before retiring for the night," said Albus Dumbledore.
"Yes."
They proceeded out to the Great Hall to check on the students.
Ron whimpered.
Hermione got up on her elbows, "What's wrong?"
Ron pointed a shaking finger toward the Great Hall's entrance and they all turned their gaze toward it.
Harry's eyes widened, "Is Hagrid wearing what I think he's wearing?"
Ron nodded.
Neville sat up and rubbed his eyes; he'd actually managed to fall asleep. "What's all the fuss about?"
"Look at Hagrid and Dumbledore," Ginny said.
"Is that Snape in a green dress?" asked Ron.
"That's a nightshirt," Hermione said impatiently.
"Is that Trelawny?" asked Harry.
"I think I'm scarred for life," replied Ron.
"Look at Hagrid," Harry said.
"Is Dumbledore wearing…?" asked Ron.
"I think he is…" Harry said.
"What is the big deal?" groaned Hermione.
"Half-giant, Hogwarts-gamekeeper, Hagrid, is wearing pajamas with big yellow rubber duckies on them. With big orange duck foot slippers to match."
"And Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin First Class, Chief of the Wizengamot, Head of the Order, and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is wearing footy pajamas like some deranged 7 year old. Footy pajamas with moving eyes on them!" Ron said, clearly upset.
Luna smiled serenely. "Yes. Aren't they nice? I gave those to him for Christmas. He wrote me a lovely thank you note. He said that footy pajamas are almost as warm as wool socks."
Ron, looking extremely aggravated, lay back down and put his pillow over his head, hoping that he would forget the whole evening when he woke up.