Title: Sights from the Third Eye

Author: P.L.S.

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything here, really!

Summery: A response to that nifty little voyeurism challenge on the HxT Lightning ML & Yahoo Group. Trelawney’s heirloom crystal scrying bowl gets the best reception.

Warnings: Hmm, well slash is a big 10-4, I mean it is a group dedicated to Harry/Tom & Harry/Voldemort. I guess since I favor the later of the two, a warning about the age gap is needed as will be a good bit of use of animals in the way of animagi and other such stuff. Also voyeurism is kinda needed to answer the challenge. Oh, lots of symbolic imagery and loads of metaphors. This is about a Divination Class, Trelawney’s at that. (You know it’s going to be interesting when the warning exceeds the summary's length.)

ooOooOoo

She just needed clarification. Her question and answers were just so vague before, but that was the assignment. Seek the general future, but even that imbecile, Seamus had gotten something. Parvati was a seer in training and she knew she had seen something trying to form. When she told Professor Trelawney the trouble the mystic told her to come by later to use a tool of great power. After all, if a vision was too strong for the tool a seer would only get hints and impressions. It was clear to the professor that she had channeled a very potent string of chance and fate.

Looking into the still crystal bowl of pure water she focused on her previous vision, willing it to come again, exactly as she did before. . .

Shades and shadows of brown faded and fluxed as the images twisted and twined together, it was like watching dried blood being washed down a drain, murky and red with the rusted crust that was once what gave you the strength to move about. Slowly, in time to the easy cadence of the chant the lines twined about to show the figure of a serpent, frozen mid strike. This snake has dripping arcs for fangs and she vaguely wondered if it was a front fanged or retractable, not that it mattered. Hissing filled her ears and she irritably tried to get it to a language she could repeat let alone understand. Only one soul that she talked to could even utter those kind of words, but she knew of his hatred of this art and wouldn’t dare speak of this to him.

In wonderment she watched as the snake started to move, it was in a sort of dance with another serpent. This one was smaller by a good lot, but it moved in such an amusing manner. One second it was up with fangs bared, the next it was weaving and undulating sideways, then it was flowing along the ground like a fast forwarded image of a river. It was never totally still, never in the same place twice, and it never removed it’s eyes from those of the larger more constant snake. As they moved the lines moved, changing into two forms that fit this scene, one small, bony, and untidy in his youth, the other tall, willowy, and very focused in his malevolence.

Harry never stopped darting around like a Weasley Firecracker, he was excusing to watch, but Harry never seemed to tire. It was then she noted that Harry really didn’t seem to force himself to move, he just did, like water. Voldemort was like a slow tempest, rolling and fearsome in his power that would nail you down. He could be quick as lightning or slow as in coming winds and clouds, he could be as lullingly gentle as the soft drizzle before a storm, or as fierce and unrelenting as a wall of icy rain and the pounding winds that turned that curtain horizontal. He burned in his anger like a forest fire, all consuming, unstoppable, and unforgettable. It was then she figured out that neither could win, both had a style that canceled the other out, like two magnetic poles.

Like an endless oberous, an image she usually associated with her favorite movie as a child, it went on. Instead of fondness she felt fear as she saw the serpents reform, now identical in all but shades and motions. Her idea of two snakes, each eating the other’s tail, came to be as both struck and they entwined themselves together in a knot, each trying to get away, but neither daring to give up their prize. If nothing changed they would surely die in that horrid embrace. She shivered as a cold feeling crept down her spine. She didn’t want this to come to pass.

In all this time the hisses had yet to ebb away, instead as she watched the two writhe the words writhed with them, twisting into English. “A HOLY PROPHESY FORETOLD SHADOWED TWIN HEARTS IN FEAR AND LOATHING. NAUGHT BUT PAIN SHARED AND MISERY COMPOUNDED UPON SHALL SERVANT AND LORD FEEL. LOVE SHARED AND TAKEN VANISHES AS TIME STOPS TO EXIST AND IN THE END ONLY WALLS OF TISSUE AND PAPER CHAINS SHALL HOLD THE TWO APART.” This strange new chant resonated in her head as she listened to it over and over again until she understood something. The prophesy told of wasn’t holy as in sacred, but holey as in filled with gaps and loopholes. It wasn’t a good or maybe even false prophesy! As this new thought ran through her mind a great bird, made of cotton candy of all things, swooped down and tried to part the two serpents, hurting both when it tried to attack the serpent that was You-Know-Who.

Hurt and angry, both snakes struck the bird, one at the breast the other at the neck. They fought the bird together until it flew off, just bearly able to leave. As they saw the last tail feather vanish the snakes reverted to their human sides and Harry slumped to the ground in obvious grief. You-Know-Who looked confused and rather distraught, but he was also bleeding a great deal, as was Harry who ignored it all. To be honest she was rather amused at the idea of an awkward You-Know-Who, especially as he gave in and tried to comfort Harry who seemed to snarl at him. You-Know-Who reeled back as if he was struck which surprised Harry enough to get him to notice that You-Know-Who was bleeding. With a quick spell cast Harry patched up You-Know-Who and in doing so his own wound healed.

Harry looked confused at this and You-Know-Who just looked as if he was told that he had won the lottery or something to that equivalent. You-Know-Who said something to Harry who laughed and then kissed his former nemesis. The kiss didn’t end like she thought it would. Instead, both tilted their heads and deepened it as their hands explored the other, caressing hair, slipping over necks, dancing over backs, twining together, gripping robes and finally finding the fastenings of said robes. Slowly, the kiss broke and yet their foreheads now touched as they talked in what looked to be sweet whispers as they worked together to reach a state of complete undress.

As a Gryffindor she had the grace to blush, but the sheer guts to watch something so ugly, wrong, and horribly beautiful as the two coming together, hands playfully fingering then lovingly gripping the other’s cock, lips crashing into each other, eyes worshiping each other, power shared, passion enflamed, and finally all culminating in two cries, two orgasms, one flaming column of energies combined and twisted into either an apocalyptic prelude to a final doom or a heaven blessed unity to finally help settle the energies of Earth. To them it really didn’t seem to matter though. They looked happy enough entwined in a deep dreaming sleep.

“Miss Patil, did using my grandmother’s scyring bowl help clarify your visions from class?” asked the same dreamy voice that first told her about the powerful tool that the great Cassandra Trelawney used. Parvati nodded.

“Yes, Professor. I’ve never seen with such clarity.” ‘And I’ll never be able to let you or anyone know just what it was that I saw.’ Parvati felt just awful, but she was seventeen and understood that there were just somethings that a seer just should not divulge. Not that she wouldn’t dream about both the nightmarish and the very steamy bits. Especially the the steamy bits.

“Good, good. I shall not ask, as is tradition, it is up to the seer to tell after looking in the bowl. It is both a blessing and a bane, is it not?”

“Right, Professor. Some of the stuff was just awful, but I feel like I just couldn’t say a word about it. Oh, goodness, Lavender is just going to kill me when I tell her that.” Parvati muttered and Trelawney laughed.

“Being a gossip can either be helped or totally killed if you have the gift. Goddess knows I was such a busybody as a schoolgirl, but sometimes I just had to keep quiet after a vision or dream full of portents. Go on, I’m sure you need to get to your prep for your other classes.” Parvati nodded and smiled.

“Of course, and thank you Professor.”