So remember how I said I would never stop writing HP fanfic because of Draco (despite the absolute irresistableness of Buffy's Spander)? uhm... this isn't about Draco. You can absolutely blame Tealin's Prisoner of Azkaba incarnation of Trelawney for this - you can find it on nocturnal soldier dot org.


Meals with Sybil Trelawney were always a rather strained experience

Meals with Sybil Trelawney were always a rather strained experience. Whenever she came down there were inevitable 'visions' of someone's imminent doom and so Minerva did her best to seat herself at the opposite end of the head table whenever she saw the Divinations professor. Unfortunately, on this rather dreary morning (when there would undoubtedly be dozens of portents in the cloud formations) she found herself seated beside her esteemed colleague, having lost the drawing of straws between Severus, Pomona and herself. She awaited the anticipated predictions with tooth-grinding impatience and finally, near the end of breakfast the expected moment came.

"Oh! My…" Sybil had reached for her mug and was now peering at its contents with a mild frown.

"What?" Minerva ground out, perhaps unkindly, but preparing to hear the details of a number of gruesome deaths, however fantastical.

"I've finished my tea…" was the unforeseen reply, "I thought I had a bit left… ah well, I suppose I should get a second cup. Would you like me to pour you one, Minerva?"

"Oh, I… yes. Yes that would be quite nice, thank you."

As, much to her amazement, Sybil pottered around with the tea things Minerva heard the voice of Albus in her left ear, muttering wryly "Didn't see that one coming, did you?"

The End.