Author's Notes: Mirabelle is physically modeled on a professional belly
dancer I once knew. Picture a tall woman who's built like a Victorian
pinup, moves like liquid silk, but who dresses like a slightly disheveled
librarian. Make her a non-conformist and somewhat of a loner. And give
her a touch of impulsiveness and a complicated past just for kicks.
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it ain't mine...
Rating: R for language, violence, some sexual situations.
Chapter 2: A Chance Encounter Sets the Wheels Of Fate Into Motion.
Snape knew there was no way around the trip to Hogsmeade. Once Dumbledore set his mind on a task, no matter how foolish and frivolous, he made sure that it was carried out. Snape finished bottling the antiveritaserum potion he had started brewing the day before. He locked the small vials away in an ornately carved cabinet with intertwined snakes on the doors, and cast several protection wards and charms on it. He grabbed his summer cloak off of a wall peg near the door, and headed up the stairs into the daylight.
As he rounded the corner of the castle, he nearly bumped into professor Sprout. "Glorious day, isn't it Severus?"
Snape stopped in his tracks, looked down at the rosy-cheeked witch, and said: "NO! No it is not glorious... this sunshine is a veritable assault upon the eyes. And just think, there are muggles who are lying on beaches at this very moment, frying their skin in tropical oils, oblivious to the fiery inferno burning over their heads".
Sprout struggled to contain herself, enjoying an inward smirk at the mental image of Snape, his pasty pale body lying out on a beach blanket with white sun cream on his nose. "Good thing he can't read minds" she thought. "Well then, I shan't be keeping you, I am sure you are very eager to get where you are going, and out of this assault upon the eyes". Snape shot her an evil glare and continued on to the carriage house.
The horseless carriage came to a stop just behind the train station, and he set out for the main shopping street of the town of Hogsmeade. After reducing the counter clerk in the apothecary to a quivering mass of nerves over the backordered potion ingredients he was waiting on, he decided to find the tailor shop and just get it over with so that Albus would get off of his back about the bloody faculty robe.
He fished the original memo out of his pocket, the one that had been sent to all the professors soon after the spring term ended, listing the name and address of the tailor shop. "Treadle's Tailor Shoppe. Hmmm...Treadle. Name sounds familiar. Didn't I have a girl named Treadle in my first year class last term? Must be her family. She's a Hufflepuff. One of the flighty and giggly ones, a complete little pain in the ass".
Snape walked through the village to the shop, hoping that he did not have to deal with that unnerving giggle this afternoon. "Maybe she doesn't work in the shop over the summer, maybe she goes off to camp or something..." He arrived at the shop and peered in through the display window. "Damn! No such luck, there's the little brat herself".
Tricia Treadle sat on a stool behind the counter, chewing muggle bubblegum, and browsing through a Quidditch magazine, trying to decide which semi-pro team had the cutest seeker when the door chimes jingled and she looked up.
"OH SHIT!" She thought. She almost choked on her gum when she saw who was coming through the door. "What is HE doing here, I can't be in trouble, and school hasn't even started yet!" Then she remembered that all the Hogwarts professors had come into the shop over the summer to be measured for the new academic robes Headmaster Dumbledore had ordered for them. Her stomach went queasy when he looked over at the counter and spotted her.
"Well, well, if it isn't Miss Treadle. And I trust you are spending your summer holidays in a constructive manner? Reviewing your first year notes so that everything I taught you last year won't have seeped out of your brain by the time school starts again?"
"Y-yessir, professor sir. I'm studying really hard".
Snape glanced down at the Quidditch magazine and sneered. "I'm sure you are Miss Treadle, I'm sure you are." "But pleasant as our little chat might be, I did not drop by for a social call, I'm here for the robe fitting that the headmaster has arranged. I'm very short on time, so can we please get this taken care of as quickly as possible".
"Uh, aah, j-just a second professor, let me go get my aunt, she's taking care of the Hogwarts account". Tricia ran behind a curtain separating the sales floor from the back room. "Aunt Belle! Aunt Belle! It's one of the professors from school to get measured for robes!"
Aunt Belle, more formally known as Mirabelle, looked up from a stack of paperwork and tossed a measuring tape to her niece. "You can do it, the measurements are all listed on the order form, and you've watched me do it a dozen times now. I'm really swamped with invoices here."
"Noooo, Auntie Belle, you don't understand, it's professor Snape!"
"What's the big deal about Professor Snape? Is he a goblin or something?"
Tricia looked at the woman and whined. "Noooooooo, Aunt Belle. He hates me! I had to serve detention in his class six times last year!"
"Aaah, so that's the problem. He's a strict teacher and you goofed off in his class so he punished you. Good lord girl, it's summertime! He's not a teacher, he's a customer, and you can handle him".
"Oh, Auntie Belle Pleeeeease don't make me do it".
Belle rolled her eyes at the girl. "Oh all right. Damn you can be a real brat sometimes. Let me file these papers away, and I'll get the measurements. But you have to write them down."
"Okay auntie Belle, thanks bunches, you're a lifesaver!"
Snape turned around and scanned the shop. It was small but well stocked; they specialized in custom-made formal robes and carried a small selection of fine merchandise. There were some elaborate dress robes on display in the window. One wall consisted of a display unit of fine robes with a shelf of hats above them. The opposite side wall had a large mirror and fitting platform next to a small bench and an elaborate wrought iron coat rack. The counter opposite the doorway had two sections. There was a low section with an ornate cash register at hip level, and a higher part where there were various accessory items on display. Wand sheaths, small pouches, brooches, and a display of what looked like potions of some sort.
The tiny bottles caught Snapes eye and he started over to take a closer look when the girl came out of the back room. "Aunt Belle will be out in just a second to get your measurements professor Snape, if you'd like to hang your cloak and robe on the rack by the platform..." Snape shot her a withering glare, and went to hang his outer clothes on the rack, waiting impatiently for this Aunt Belle woman to come out and do her job.
Mirabelle sighed, put the papers back in the folder, and filed them away. She picked up a quill and the order form for the professor's robes, grabbed a tape measure and headed to the front of the store. She laid the paper and quill down on the counter, and motioned for her niece to stand to take measurements. The girl sheepishly crept over and picked up the quill. Mirabelle rolled her eyes again and turned towards her customer.
The professor was in the corner, hanging up his robe. A tall man with long dark messy hair and plainly cut dark clothes. He was in his forties, with pale sallow skin, sharp features, and a lean but strong physique. Something about him piqued her interest as she crossed the floor to the fitting area.
"Professor Snape?" She asked. He whirled around, caught off guard by her silent approach.
Nobody sneaked up on Severus Snape! He found himself almost eye to eye with "Aunt Belle" and she was certainly NOT what he had expected. First of all, she was dressed like a muggle. She had on a long flowing skirt and a button closure sweater. Her hair was a riot of curls, the color falling somewhere between brunette and auburn. She had it piled up on her head haphazardly with a pencil and what appeared to be a short wand tucked into the knot. But her eyes were what drew his attention. They were blue. Not a brilliant turquoise blue, but a grayed down stormy blue. And her direct gaze seemed to see straight into his psyche.
A smattering of fine lines around her eyes told him that she was certainly not "Old Auntie Belle" but she was not a schoolgirl either, probably in her mid to late thirties, but who knows with some of the age defying charms that some witches of a certain age were known to cast upon themselves. Snape quickly looked her up and down with a critical eye. She was tall, but not quite as tall as him. His first impression of her was that she was plump, but not really. She looked like the women in old-fashioned pinup posters. Curvy when the fashion called for willowy. She was not at all the type of woman he generally found attractive, and yet he found his eyes lingering on her.
She was certainly no great beauty, but her appearance was striking nonetheless. And she smelled good. "What is that smell?" He knew it from his potions lab. Cinnamon? Sandalwood? Amber? It was something sweet and spicy. And what was that accent she spoke with? Not British. But he couldn't quite place it.
He regained his usual curt composure and replied: "Yes. I'm Professor Snape, can we please get this over and done with. I am very short on time, and need to return to the school as quickly as possible".
Mirabelle smiled at him, "Certainly professor, if you would please step up on the platform, we'll get the measurements taken as quickly as possible".
Mirabelle looked over at Tricia. "Tricia! I'll call out the measurements, you write them on the form. Ready?"
"Yes m'aam" squeaked her niece from the far end of the corner.
Mirabelle rolled her eyes and turned back to the professor. "Great..." she thought. "That's all I need. A professor with a pole up his ass and a niece who's trying her best to crawl under the counter. Let's get this done so I can get back to work".
"Okay professor, I need for you to stand up very straight for me". Snape let out an exasperated sigh, and Mirabelle felt her face flush with frustration. She took a good look at him. "What an asshole, I'm SO not in the mood for this shit today." She vented silently to herself. "Well professor Snape, you have picked the wrong day to give me an attitude." "Okay, professor, I saw that you are a household head on your order form, that means your robe will have a special emblem on the back, I'll need to take a couple of extra measurements".
"Oh lucky me." Snape said, dripping sarcasm.
Mirabelle stepped up on the platform beside him, and told him that she would be getting several measurements, starting with the shoulder span. She moved around behind him and pulled her magical tape measure out of her pocket. Being a magical and not a common muggle tape measure, all that the user needed to do was place the spool case against the customer, and it would remain there while tape was pulled out to get the measurement.
She called out to her niece "Shoulder span, 16.5 inches" "Damn, he's got a strong back" she thought. Snape clucked his tongue and slouched, hoping that none of his students would pass by and see him through the window, on a pedestal being measured and fitted.
"Now the back length for your house emblem professor. Please stand straight and still, this measurement is very important". Snape shifted his weight and slouched even more. "What a bastard!" Mirabelle thought. She placed the tape measure at the middle of the back of his neck. In an inspired act of mischief, she stuck her thumb out and traced the nail down the center of his spine as she pulled the tape out to his waist.
Snape let out a small gasp and stood ramrod straight.
"Heh! How's that asshole?" She said to herself as she called the measurement out to her niece. "Let's see how the bastard likes a taste of his own potion, so to speak" she inwardly smirked.
Tricia saw what her aunt Belle did. Her eyes got big as saucers and she looked down quickly at the order form. "Oh please no, don't let Belle get professor Snape even more angry at me." She whispered under her breath.
"That muggleish cow!" thought Snape. "She did that on purpose!"
Mirabelle moved around to face the professor, not even a trace of a smirk on her face, and asked him to please hold up his hair, as she needed to measure his neck for the robe collar. He rolled his eyes and gathered his unkempt black hair up into his hand. She leaned in to measure his neck and got a face full of his personal fragrance. She inhaled again. He smelled of unwashed hair, smoke, and a mixture of residual aromas from the potions lab. Pungent, but she couldn't help but lean in for another whiff. She realized that she liked the way he smelled.
Tricia noticed her aunt lean in and it looked like she actually "sniffed" professor Snape. Tricia had never wanted to get close enough to smell him, as the lab carried a ripe enough fragrance of it's own. She was totally grossed out and kept her face down and her quill on the parchment.
"Okay, now the sleeves, please hold your arm straight out from your side professor." Mirabelle took the opportunity to check out Snape's arm muscles "Nice" she thought, checking out his lean but well built body. "Okay professor, the last measurement will be from your shoulder to the top of your shoe in the front to get the proper length".
Mirabelle placed the tape measure against Snape's shoulder and slowly kneeled down in front of him, until the tape was even with the top of his shoe. "Professor, is this good?" she said from around knee level.
Snape looked down and didn't see the edge of the measuring tape; instead he was looking down the front of a V-neck sweater at her rather abundant cleavage. "Yes, quite nice" said Snape in a distracted tone, and Mirabelle just smiled like the cat that got the cream.
"Oh my God!... My aunt is flirting with professor Snape! What the HELL is she DOING!" thought Tricia as she wrote down the last measurement.
"That's all Tricia, you may be excused" said Mirabelle, and Tricia disappeared behind the curtain into the back of the shop in a flash.
"Well professor Snape, that wasn't so bad now, was it? Here, let me help you into your robe and cloak". Mirabelle helped him into his over clothes, pressing her chest against his arm when she reached over to fasten his cloak clasp. She felt a definite tingle from the unexpected touch.
"So, the robe will be delivered to Hogwarts via owl?"
"Oh no", replied Mirabelle. "The measurements will be owled out to the workshop where the tailor elves make the robes. When the robe comes back to the store in two weeks, you will need to come in for a final fitting in case there are any alterations or adjustments to be made. We're just finishing up most of the other professors' robes right now. You'll get an owl letting you know when to come in."
"Can't this be handled without another trip into town?" snarled Snape.
"I'm afraid not professor. I have to check the fit myself and make any final adjustments by hand. It has to be done to get a proper fit".
"Are you sure you can't just owl the robe to me and one of the Hogwarts house elves can do any necessary adjustments?"
"I don't know professor, I suppose I could send an owl to the headmaster to see if he minds."
"No, no, that won't be necessary, I'll find the time in my schedule to pick up the robe in person". Snape knew that if word reached the headmaster that he was being difficult, Dumbledore would be very cross with him.
"Well then professor, thank you for your time, and we shall see you in approximately two weeks". Mirabelle escorted a scowling professor Snape to the door and gave him a sweet smile as he exited the store.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Tricia came storming out of the back room. "Oh my GOD Aunt Belle, what were you thinking? That's professor SNAPE! He's the meanest teacher at Hogwarts, a real bastard!"
"Watch your language sweetie, and while he may be a total and complete bastard, he's kinda sexy...in a dark and intense sort of way, dont'cha think?" Asked Mirabelle with a wicked smirk.
"NO! He is nothing close to sexy Aunt Belle, are you out of your MIND!"
"Hey, little girl, just because he's not blonde and blue eyed like your little post adolescent Quidditch heartthrobs, doesn't mean he hasn't got a certain appeal". Tricia looked at her aunt, horrified. "When you're older, closer to your old auntie's age, you'll see that sexy is not necessarily a cute face and buff body. Some men who you would never think to look at twice possess sex appeal. And, your professor Snape positively oozes with it. Too bad he's such a jerk."
"Oh God", thought Tricia. "My aunt fancies Professor Snape!" "At least I won't be here when he comes to get his robe, she'll have him all to herself while Mom, Dad, and I are off on holiday. Oh well, if they start dating, maybe he'll give me good marks in Potions class."
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it ain't mine...
Rating: R for language, violence, some sexual situations.
Chapter 2: A Chance Encounter Sets the Wheels Of Fate Into Motion.
Snape knew there was no way around the trip to Hogsmeade. Once Dumbledore set his mind on a task, no matter how foolish and frivolous, he made sure that it was carried out. Snape finished bottling the antiveritaserum potion he had started brewing the day before. He locked the small vials away in an ornately carved cabinet with intertwined snakes on the doors, and cast several protection wards and charms on it. He grabbed his summer cloak off of a wall peg near the door, and headed up the stairs into the daylight.
As he rounded the corner of the castle, he nearly bumped into professor Sprout. "Glorious day, isn't it Severus?"
Snape stopped in his tracks, looked down at the rosy-cheeked witch, and said: "NO! No it is not glorious... this sunshine is a veritable assault upon the eyes. And just think, there are muggles who are lying on beaches at this very moment, frying their skin in tropical oils, oblivious to the fiery inferno burning over their heads".
Sprout struggled to contain herself, enjoying an inward smirk at the mental image of Snape, his pasty pale body lying out on a beach blanket with white sun cream on his nose. "Good thing he can't read minds" she thought. "Well then, I shan't be keeping you, I am sure you are very eager to get where you are going, and out of this assault upon the eyes". Snape shot her an evil glare and continued on to the carriage house.
The horseless carriage came to a stop just behind the train station, and he set out for the main shopping street of the town of Hogsmeade. After reducing the counter clerk in the apothecary to a quivering mass of nerves over the backordered potion ingredients he was waiting on, he decided to find the tailor shop and just get it over with so that Albus would get off of his back about the bloody faculty robe.
He fished the original memo out of his pocket, the one that had been sent to all the professors soon after the spring term ended, listing the name and address of the tailor shop. "Treadle's Tailor Shoppe. Hmmm...Treadle. Name sounds familiar. Didn't I have a girl named Treadle in my first year class last term? Must be her family. She's a Hufflepuff. One of the flighty and giggly ones, a complete little pain in the ass".
Snape walked through the village to the shop, hoping that he did not have to deal with that unnerving giggle this afternoon. "Maybe she doesn't work in the shop over the summer, maybe she goes off to camp or something..." He arrived at the shop and peered in through the display window. "Damn! No such luck, there's the little brat herself".
Tricia Treadle sat on a stool behind the counter, chewing muggle bubblegum, and browsing through a Quidditch magazine, trying to decide which semi-pro team had the cutest seeker when the door chimes jingled and she looked up.
"OH SHIT!" She thought. She almost choked on her gum when she saw who was coming through the door. "What is HE doing here, I can't be in trouble, and school hasn't even started yet!" Then she remembered that all the Hogwarts professors had come into the shop over the summer to be measured for the new academic robes Headmaster Dumbledore had ordered for them. Her stomach went queasy when he looked over at the counter and spotted her.
"Well, well, if it isn't Miss Treadle. And I trust you are spending your summer holidays in a constructive manner? Reviewing your first year notes so that everything I taught you last year won't have seeped out of your brain by the time school starts again?"
"Y-yessir, professor sir. I'm studying really hard".
Snape glanced down at the Quidditch magazine and sneered. "I'm sure you are Miss Treadle, I'm sure you are." "But pleasant as our little chat might be, I did not drop by for a social call, I'm here for the robe fitting that the headmaster has arranged. I'm very short on time, so can we please get this taken care of as quickly as possible".
"Uh, aah, j-just a second professor, let me go get my aunt, she's taking care of the Hogwarts account". Tricia ran behind a curtain separating the sales floor from the back room. "Aunt Belle! Aunt Belle! It's one of the professors from school to get measured for robes!"
Aunt Belle, more formally known as Mirabelle, looked up from a stack of paperwork and tossed a measuring tape to her niece. "You can do it, the measurements are all listed on the order form, and you've watched me do it a dozen times now. I'm really swamped with invoices here."
"Noooo, Auntie Belle, you don't understand, it's professor Snape!"
"What's the big deal about Professor Snape? Is he a goblin or something?"
Tricia looked at the woman and whined. "Noooooooo, Aunt Belle. He hates me! I had to serve detention in his class six times last year!"
"Aaah, so that's the problem. He's a strict teacher and you goofed off in his class so he punished you. Good lord girl, it's summertime! He's not a teacher, he's a customer, and you can handle him".
"Oh, Auntie Belle Pleeeeease don't make me do it".
Belle rolled her eyes at the girl. "Oh all right. Damn you can be a real brat sometimes. Let me file these papers away, and I'll get the measurements. But you have to write them down."
"Okay auntie Belle, thanks bunches, you're a lifesaver!"
Snape turned around and scanned the shop. It was small but well stocked; they specialized in custom-made formal robes and carried a small selection of fine merchandise. There were some elaborate dress robes on display in the window. One wall consisted of a display unit of fine robes with a shelf of hats above them. The opposite side wall had a large mirror and fitting platform next to a small bench and an elaborate wrought iron coat rack. The counter opposite the doorway had two sections. There was a low section with an ornate cash register at hip level, and a higher part where there were various accessory items on display. Wand sheaths, small pouches, brooches, and a display of what looked like potions of some sort.
The tiny bottles caught Snapes eye and he started over to take a closer look when the girl came out of the back room. "Aunt Belle will be out in just a second to get your measurements professor Snape, if you'd like to hang your cloak and robe on the rack by the platform..." Snape shot her a withering glare, and went to hang his outer clothes on the rack, waiting impatiently for this Aunt Belle woman to come out and do her job.
Mirabelle sighed, put the papers back in the folder, and filed them away. She picked up a quill and the order form for the professor's robes, grabbed a tape measure and headed to the front of the store. She laid the paper and quill down on the counter, and motioned for her niece to stand to take measurements. The girl sheepishly crept over and picked up the quill. Mirabelle rolled her eyes again and turned towards her customer.
The professor was in the corner, hanging up his robe. A tall man with long dark messy hair and plainly cut dark clothes. He was in his forties, with pale sallow skin, sharp features, and a lean but strong physique. Something about him piqued her interest as she crossed the floor to the fitting area.
"Professor Snape?" She asked. He whirled around, caught off guard by her silent approach.
Nobody sneaked up on Severus Snape! He found himself almost eye to eye with "Aunt Belle" and she was certainly NOT what he had expected. First of all, she was dressed like a muggle. She had on a long flowing skirt and a button closure sweater. Her hair was a riot of curls, the color falling somewhere between brunette and auburn. She had it piled up on her head haphazardly with a pencil and what appeared to be a short wand tucked into the knot. But her eyes were what drew his attention. They were blue. Not a brilliant turquoise blue, but a grayed down stormy blue. And her direct gaze seemed to see straight into his psyche.
A smattering of fine lines around her eyes told him that she was certainly not "Old Auntie Belle" but she was not a schoolgirl either, probably in her mid to late thirties, but who knows with some of the age defying charms that some witches of a certain age were known to cast upon themselves. Snape quickly looked her up and down with a critical eye. She was tall, but not quite as tall as him. His first impression of her was that she was plump, but not really. She looked like the women in old-fashioned pinup posters. Curvy when the fashion called for willowy. She was not at all the type of woman he generally found attractive, and yet he found his eyes lingering on her.
She was certainly no great beauty, but her appearance was striking nonetheless. And she smelled good. "What is that smell?" He knew it from his potions lab. Cinnamon? Sandalwood? Amber? It was something sweet and spicy. And what was that accent she spoke with? Not British. But he couldn't quite place it.
He regained his usual curt composure and replied: "Yes. I'm Professor Snape, can we please get this over and done with. I am very short on time, and need to return to the school as quickly as possible".
Mirabelle smiled at him, "Certainly professor, if you would please step up on the platform, we'll get the measurements taken as quickly as possible".
Mirabelle looked over at Tricia. "Tricia! I'll call out the measurements, you write them on the form. Ready?"
"Yes m'aam" squeaked her niece from the far end of the corner.
Mirabelle rolled her eyes and turned back to the professor. "Great..." she thought. "That's all I need. A professor with a pole up his ass and a niece who's trying her best to crawl under the counter. Let's get this done so I can get back to work".
"Okay professor, I need for you to stand up very straight for me". Snape let out an exasperated sigh, and Mirabelle felt her face flush with frustration. She took a good look at him. "What an asshole, I'm SO not in the mood for this shit today." She vented silently to herself. "Well professor Snape, you have picked the wrong day to give me an attitude." "Okay, professor, I saw that you are a household head on your order form, that means your robe will have a special emblem on the back, I'll need to take a couple of extra measurements".
"Oh lucky me." Snape said, dripping sarcasm.
Mirabelle stepped up on the platform beside him, and told him that she would be getting several measurements, starting with the shoulder span. She moved around behind him and pulled her magical tape measure out of her pocket. Being a magical and not a common muggle tape measure, all that the user needed to do was place the spool case against the customer, and it would remain there while tape was pulled out to get the measurement.
She called out to her niece "Shoulder span, 16.5 inches" "Damn, he's got a strong back" she thought. Snape clucked his tongue and slouched, hoping that none of his students would pass by and see him through the window, on a pedestal being measured and fitted.
"Now the back length for your house emblem professor. Please stand straight and still, this measurement is very important". Snape shifted his weight and slouched even more. "What a bastard!" Mirabelle thought. She placed the tape measure at the middle of the back of his neck. In an inspired act of mischief, she stuck her thumb out and traced the nail down the center of his spine as she pulled the tape out to his waist.
Snape let out a small gasp and stood ramrod straight.
"Heh! How's that asshole?" She said to herself as she called the measurement out to her niece. "Let's see how the bastard likes a taste of his own potion, so to speak" she inwardly smirked.
Tricia saw what her aunt Belle did. Her eyes got big as saucers and she looked down quickly at the order form. "Oh please no, don't let Belle get professor Snape even more angry at me." She whispered under her breath.
"That muggleish cow!" thought Snape. "She did that on purpose!"
Mirabelle moved around to face the professor, not even a trace of a smirk on her face, and asked him to please hold up his hair, as she needed to measure his neck for the robe collar. He rolled his eyes and gathered his unkempt black hair up into his hand. She leaned in to measure his neck and got a face full of his personal fragrance. She inhaled again. He smelled of unwashed hair, smoke, and a mixture of residual aromas from the potions lab. Pungent, but she couldn't help but lean in for another whiff. She realized that she liked the way he smelled.
Tricia noticed her aunt lean in and it looked like she actually "sniffed" professor Snape. Tricia had never wanted to get close enough to smell him, as the lab carried a ripe enough fragrance of it's own. She was totally grossed out and kept her face down and her quill on the parchment.
"Okay, now the sleeves, please hold your arm straight out from your side professor." Mirabelle took the opportunity to check out Snape's arm muscles "Nice" she thought, checking out his lean but well built body. "Okay professor, the last measurement will be from your shoulder to the top of your shoe in the front to get the proper length".
Mirabelle placed the tape measure against Snape's shoulder and slowly kneeled down in front of him, until the tape was even with the top of his shoe. "Professor, is this good?" she said from around knee level.
Snape looked down and didn't see the edge of the measuring tape; instead he was looking down the front of a V-neck sweater at her rather abundant cleavage. "Yes, quite nice" said Snape in a distracted tone, and Mirabelle just smiled like the cat that got the cream.
"Oh my God!... My aunt is flirting with professor Snape! What the HELL is she DOING!" thought Tricia as she wrote down the last measurement.
"That's all Tricia, you may be excused" said Mirabelle, and Tricia disappeared behind the curtain into the back of the shop in a flash.
"Well professor Snape, that wasn't so bad now, was it? Here, let me help you into your robe and cloak". Mirabelle helped him into his over clothes, pressing her chest against his arm when she reached over to fasten his cloak clasp. She felt a definite tingle from the unexpected touch.
"So, the robe will be delivered to Hogwarts via owl?"
"Oh no", replied Mirabelle. "The measurements will be owled out to the workshop where the tailor elves make the robes. When the robe comes back to the store in two weeks, you will need to come in for a final fitting in case there are any alterations or adjustments to be made. We're just finishing up most of the other professors' robes right now. You'll get an owl letting you know when to come in."
"Can't this be handled without another trip into town?" snarled Snape.
"I'm afraid not professor. I have to check the fit myself and make any final adjustments by hand. It has to be done to get a proper fit".
"Are you sure you can't just owl the robe to me and one of the Hogwarts house elves can do any necessary adjustments?"
"I don't know professor, I suppose I could send an owl to the headmaster to see if he minds."
"No, no, that won't be necessary, I'll find the time in my schedule to pick up the robe in person". Snape knew that if word reached the headmaster that he was being difficult, Dumbledore would be very cross with him.
"Well then professor, thank you for your time, and we shall see you in approximately two weeks". Mirabelle escorted a scowling professor Snape to the door and gave him a sweet smile as he exited the store.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Tricia came storming out of the back room. "Oh my GOD Aunt Belle, what were you thinking? That's professor SNAPE! He's the meanest teacher at Hogwarts, a real bastard!"
"Watch your language sweetie, and while he may be a total and complete bastard, he's kinda sexy...in a dark and intense sort of way, dont'cha think?" Asked Mirabelle with a wicked smirk.
"NO! He is nothing close to sexy Aunt Belle, are you out of your MIND!"
"Hey, little girl, just because he's not blonde and blue eyed like your little post adolescent Quidditch heartthrobs, doesn't mean he hasn't got a certain appeal". Tricia looked at her aunt, horrified. "When you're older, closer to your old auntie's age, you'll see that sexy is not necessarily a cute face and buff body. Some men who you would never think to look at twice possess sex appeal. And, your professor Snape positively oozes with it. Too bad he's such a jerk."
"Oh God", thought Tricia. "My aunt fancies Professor Snape!" "At least I won't be here when he comes to get his robe, she'll have him all to herself while Mom, Dad, and I are off on holiday. Oh well, if they start dating, maybe he'll give me good marks in Potions class."