Disclaimer: Not JK, or Father Christmas!
Chapter 26- Yule, with a slight, Selkie twist
Sybil Trelawney was feeling unhappy. Her students had gone home for the holidays. The Divination Tower seemed so...quiet...and...empty. Pouring a cup of tea as she sat in of her classrooms' overstuffed chairs staring into a crystal ball placed on the chintz covered table, the woman gasped in excitement. A shape was forming! Large eyes magnified by thick glasses widened. It was...a wave? A thin finger tapped pursed lips thoughtfully as the eccentric woman tried to remember what the bloody hell a wave was supposed to represent.
A tsunami...no, they weren't in Asia...surf's up...no...only American or Australian diviners claimed that one, and she was still suspicious that it was an excuse to skive off work...hmmm...she was thirsty for that Cran-drink with the wave logo on the bottle? Shaking her long grayish-blonde hair, Sybil scratched her head, pressed her lips and narrowed her eyes. Abruptly, she stood and moved back several meters, stared, and then came so close her glasses touched the ball she scrutinized so carefully. Still a wave...drat... What was she to do?
Her eyes flickered around the deserted chamber, making quite sure no one was about. Reassured, she sidled over to the small bookcase in the far corner of the room and removed Unfogging the Future from the bottom shelf. Setting the tome aside, the professor reached for the book that had been concealed behind the thick text- Divination for Dummies. It pained one from such an illustrious family of seers to rely on such a crassly named guide, but it had answered many a fiddly question before, so she reluctantly sacrificed her pride and opened the book. Finding the Crystal Ball or Bollocks chapter, Sybil quickly glanced down the list of possible sightings and their corresponding meanings. Nothing about waves was mentioned. Attempting to huffily flip the page, the oft called 'Dotty Professor' received a paper cut as a reward for her ill-temper. Tossing the book and going back to the crystal, she traced the mysterious wave and then grimaced as a drop of blood smeared across the foggy image. Before she could wipe it off, a voice called,
"May I come up?"
Two fluttery hands reached up to try and pat long, bushy hair into some semblance of order. Next they tried to brush wrinkles out of her long, crinkly, gray Indian print dress as she walked over to the trapdoor, and opened it. Looking down, her heart jolted and she gasped, "Mr. Tynan!"
"Let us not be formal; call me Tynan...Sybil..."
Feeling as foolish as one of her students...perhaps Lavender...the woman nodded vigorously and stepped back to allow the man to ascend the ladder and enter her domain. The tall, dark-haired, devastatingly handsome gentleman seemed even more masculine in the ultra-feminine surroundings. Raising a shaky hand to her throat, the professor asked, "May I offer you a cup of tea?"
"Please"
Trying not to goggle incredulously or giggle hysterically, the thin woman offered a weak smile and immediately turned to drift back to the tea table. Taking a deep breath, the professor seated herself. Tynan pushed in her chair, making her pulse leap and race. Sitting beside instead of across from her, the compelling black orbs gazed into hers. His eyes were so deep and mysterious. Sybil wished she wasn't imagining the kind understanding in his gaze. Dragging hers away, she poured tea and was proud that she neither over-poured nor rattled the cup when she passed it to her guest.
"How interesting, a wave."
She sat up straighter, leaned toward him unconsciously and breathed, "Do...you know...what a wave...represents?"
A finger that was so enticingly male traced the form within the crystal and the smear of blood. The woman held her breath when Tynan leaned forward and said,
"A gift from the sea..."
"Pearls?"
He shook his head. She swallowed hard and suggested, "Lobster?"
Gentle amusement lit his face. Her eyes became even larger as he drew her to her feet. Heart pounding, mouth drying, mind denying and accommodating all at once, the woman said faintly while he placed one of her hands on his shoulder and clasped the other, "Crabs?"
The bark of laughter her word produced made her laugh too. The black eyes surrounded by the longest eyelashes she had ever seen told her she was amusing and attractive. She felt like the young girl who'd wanted to be asked to the Yule Ball, but never had. He whispered,
"Dance with me"
Circling the flower patterned carpet, Sybil realized that somewhere along the way, she'd given up on finding a partner for more than just a dance. Perhaps she would visit her cousin in London over the next holiday, allow herself to be introduced to that friend who likes music, loves to dance.
Inside Greenhouse 7, Pomona Sprout walked briskly down the row between potting tables, double checking that all her precious plants were healthy and sufficiently warm and watered. Snow piled in drifts against the glass walls, and at the end of the aisle, the short woman paused and adjusted her patched hat and scarf. Contemplating the snowy landscape, she removed her gloves from a pocket.
This holiday break was the most...unrewarding...the professor had ever experienced. Somehow, the new Herbology Today magazine and the set of texts she had planned on reading couldn't hold her attention. Sighing, she put on one glove, but dropped the other. Reaching for the item, Sprout forgot that the table the glove rested on contained pots of snapdragons. A sharp sting refreshed her memory. "Dragon dung!" she muttered, examining the small cut the snapdragon had inflicted. Several drops of blood dripped onto the floor before she could use her wand to perform a small healing spell.
"Allow me"
Pomona's brown eyes lifted from the hand that held the glove out to her to meet eyes that were darker than the richest soil she'd ever seen. The first time she'd laid eyes on the man, the woman's first thought had been that he was the 'gentleman friend' she and Minerva had speculated for months was the true reason Professor Lorelei was consistently late to staff meetings. Unaccountably, she had been disturbed by the idea. Finally, she'd privately admitted that it was because the man, while still very fine-looking, was obviously older.
One of the Hufflepuff Head's pet peeves was men who tried to recapture their lost youth with a sweet young thing. Men her age always looked past her to younger women in the pub and elsewhere. Her own partner, the man she'd expected to marry had given up the Ancient Runes position to run off with a Hogsmeade shop girl half his age. Frowning at the memory, she took the glove with a curt nod and "Thanks"
The man's mouth arched in a smile that made her feel way more attractive than the round, frumpy, professor who was never able to remove all traces from dirt from underneath her fingernails. He didn't even have any gray in his hair- how fair was that? She reflexively tried to smooth down a flyaway wisp of graying brown hair. Trying to project an 'I'm busy, so state your business and leave.' air, the no-nonsense woman waited for the man to speak his piece.
"Lorelei tells me you plan to gather greenery for Yule- may I accompany you?"
Flustered, Pomona almost asked, 'Why would you want to?' He looked so kind and understanding, though, she decided to be cordial. Nodding her head, Sprout gave a small smile when Tynan opened the door for her to precede him outside.
Several times while they walked into the forest, her companion held her arm to steady her or help her climb over a fallen log. The gusting wind seemed rather mild when blocked by the male body walking closely at her side. They carried on a quiet conversation about seafood and seaweed. Pomona had noticed at dinner that the quiet yet charismatic man had eaten a wide variety of shellfish, fish, octopus, shrimp and squid dishes, but no plants other than what looked like seaweed.
Questioning Tynan, she discovered that he was very fond of every kind of food from the sea, including Palmaria Palmata. She had never tried any before, and asked him questions. Now she knew the delicate brown seaweed tasted like oyster and was used in Welsh Lava Bread of all things. He had asked her what types of seaweed she used for fertilizer in her work, and had been flatteringly attentive to her lengthy explanation about the preparation and utilization of Bladderwort and Norwegian kelp. In fact, the way he listened intently, and asked such intelligent questions made her realize that the man who'd left her had never done either. Why had she put up with that?
Having company while harvesting the holly and evergreen boughs she used to assemble decorations for her private quarters each year was very pleasant. Last year Minerva had braved the elements in the name of friendship. The other woman believed no superstitious nonsense about holly bringing good fortune- she just complained about chapped lips and acted as though she were conferring the greatest of favors.
This year, Tynan held the basket, reached up to snip off the greenery she wanted. The handsome man told her he was pleased that a woman of such learning still followed the old ways. Her cheeks blushed pink at the compliment, and her frozen heart began to thaw. Maybe, the next time the chairman of the Hogsmeade garden club tried to buy her a drink in the pub, she'd let him. On the way back to her rooms, she tried to take the basket and send the man on his way, but he insisted on walking a lady to her door. He brought her basket inside and smiled at all the plants scattered around the lounge. Walking over to a small pot, he lifted it and said,
"I am glad you have ivy. Holly and ivy represent the male and female in nature. Both are needed to bring balance and harmony to your home."
Long after Tynan had gone , Pomona thought about his words. She felt like a plant that had lain dormant but was ready to…well…sprout again. Making a cup of tea, she looked forward to more than celebrating Yule.
Prowling the corridors of Hogwarts, Remus wondered when he'd become such a territorial animal. At dinner, he'd watched Lorelei's father effortlessly charm every woman and girl at the table with his soulful eyes, and enchanting stories told in that lilting voice of his and growled in his throat. Literally...Tonks had turned to him and said,
"Are you growling? What's got you so grumpy?"
He'd looked at her with narrowed eyes. Could she really not see that he was jealous? His gaze had slid to the one person who understood his feelings. How ironic. It was Snape. The Potions Master did an excellent job of appearing sardonically amused at the admiration of previously level-headed women like Sprout and too-dotty-to-notice ones like Trelawney, but Lupin saw the muscle clenching in the man's jaw. Every time Lorelei looked at her father as though he hung the ruddy moon, the corners of Severus' mouth turned down. The brown-haired man's misery had enjoyed having company- even a Slytherin's.
After dinner, the group, children included, had retired to the staff lounge, where the talented bloke had sung ballads to a rapt audience. After Lorelei and Tynan had sung a duet that made Tonks sniff and say, 'Wasn't that beautiful', the former DA professor had claimed a headache and retired. Snape had done so directly after dinner- he'd always known the bat was smart.
Now Remus was releasing his frustration with a long, meandering walk around the castle he knew so well. On impulse, he climbed the steps to the Astronomy Tower. At the top, he was surprised to see his former enemy sitting against the left side wall with a bottle of firewhisky in his hand. A wand lying on the floor beside the man glowed softly at the tip, illuminating the satiric expression, complete with raised brow,
"You lasted longer than me...but then I always knew you were the better man, Lupin."
Brown eyes met black and admitted wryly, "Gryffindor tenacity didn't serve me well tonight...I could've used some Slytherin sharpness and willingness to get while the going was good."
Huffing in reluctant amusement, Snape reached over and picked up an unopened bottle. Smirking as if to say, 'Yes, I was going to drink both, so you'd better take it before I change my mind', he held it out. Taking the whisky with a nod and grin of thanks, Lupin sat against the opposite wall, appreciating the warming charm the other man had performed. Taking a long swallow of fiery liquid, he could almost hear Sirius bark, "Wot...just 'cause I'm on the other side of the bloody curtain...that mean Snivellus is your drinking buddy now?" In the back of his mind, James grinned, "You should only sip that stuff until you're sure it's not poisoned, mate." Remus chuckled.
"What?"
Toasting the man with his bottle, the werewolf confided, "I was thinking about my old friends. We'd come up here after Hogsmeade Weekends with beer bought under the table at the Hog's Head...to talk...and drink."
"I can guess the subject of your conversation."
Remus snorted, "If you're thinking it was Quidditch, or pranking Slytherins, you'd be wrong, mate...it was girls. A prolonged silence followed the statement. The amused man didn't know if Snape was more taken aback to hear that boys talked about girls, or to be called mate.
"Which girls...?"
After another swallow pleasantly warmed his insides, a mellow Lupin replied, "The pretty ones...you know, who we thought was hot...or back then 'a fox'. Before Lily put James out of his misery, he'd complain about her...happily...and Sirius, that dog, always had a new girl he was sniffing after...remember Jessica Simpson?"
"Blonde Hufflepuff, whose beauty was surpassed by her brainlessness- yes, I remember her. She once cried in potions because she thought her hair was transforming into an afro after she inadvertently splashed herself with an aphrodisiac."
Remus snickered, then said, "Well, Sirius dogged her for months, and finally lured her up here to 'look at the stars'..." He broke off, shoulders shaking with amusement.
"And what...Sirius, the legendary lover made a new conquest for his mates to talk about?"
"No...she wondered why starfish were called that when they weren't stars, or really shaped like stars, or shiny like stars and they weren't even fish...were they...and she never could understand his explanation...although he broke it down into very small words. After an hour, he gave up. We gave him hell about that."
They both laughed quietly and then stopped; each realized they were fraternizing with the enemy, albeit a former one. Remus asked curiously,
"You ever come up here?"
"Not until recently."
Ah. The uneasy man now knew how his darling Tonks must feel. The thought of Lorelei and Snape 'looking at the stars' didn't sit well in his stomach. He hurriedly drank some more. Yes, that was better...in fact, it was so good...Lupin could feel himself edging perilously close to singing his favorite song. Wouldn't Sev love that?
"Don't call me Sev, and love what?
Heh-heh...his changeable sweetheart's bad habit had rubbed off, it seemed. Very well, the man had asked. "My breaking into song- drinking always does it to me."
"What song?"
Staring at the other man, Remus saw the corners of the Potions Master's mouth twitch. Encouraged, he sang, Werewolves of London.
Surprisingly, Snape took a quick swig, then sang the next lines. Lupin grinned. Sneering, the Slytherin said,
"I should've known you'd like that song. Especially the part about ripping lungs out, eh?"
Snape waggled the bottle, indicating that Lupin should howl in the way that only he could,
Ah-wooo...
The two had just finished singing when their partners stepped onto the observation deck.They laughed at the men's surprise. Lorelei headed for Snape and sat down beside him. The man held the bottle away, superciliously declaring,
"You can't have any...just breathing the fumes turns you into an insatiable creature bent on...oh, wait...have some..."
Tonks was staring in horror from the doorway, watching her friend take a swig and then cough while Snape actually made audible sounds of amusement and patted her on the back. Rising to his feet, Remus bid the other couple, "Happy stargazing" and almost steadily walked over to his partner and took her hand. "Come along." He could feel her quizzical stare as he tugged her down the stairs and through the corridors toward her rooms. Outside her quarters, the man looked affectionately at the painting of two dogs sharing a noodle over a large plate of spaghetti set on a crate covered with a red and white checkered cloth. The large round moon hanging over the canine pair manifested a smiling face that asked,
"Who goes there?"
"Lady and the Tramp."
The portrait swung up, and Remus promptly pulled the metamorphmagus inside. Inside the cluttered lounge, he asked, "Is there anything I can do to make you happier?"
Eyes brighter silver than Christmas tinsel sparkled,
"You can kiss me."
Patting Lorelei on the back while she coughed from drinking a shot of firewhiskey, Snape felt his mouth curving upwards. He didn't want to be amused by his conversation with Lupin, but he was. The other man, when evaluated on his own merits and not viewed as one of the dastardly 'Marauders' was someone Severus wouldn't mind having as a friend. Aghast at his thought, the scowling man quickly tried to rationalize the bizarre idea- he was drunk, that was it. Perhaps he'd see pink elephants next.
"I love your voice."
Of course she did. The daft siren had taken three pulls on the bottle before he firmly removed the whisky from her grasp and finished the liquor himself. Next she'd be composing an ode to his eyebrow. Not that his brows didn't deserve an ode. At least a sonnet, although a free verse poem would be acceptable...maybe even a limerick...They were bloody impressive. He looked down at the woman now resting her head on his lap. She smiled happily at him and reached up a hand to trace his lips with a slender finger before saying,
"I need your help."
"Yes?"
"I've come up with 'There once was a sardonic eyebrow...' but I'm having problem with the last lines...can't think of anything to rhyme with 'drag'..."
His obsidian eyes gleamed with mirth, "How about 'a shag'?"
She sat up and immediately straddled his lap, slid her hands into his hair and said in a voice made breathy with love and laughter,
"Oh Severus, I thought you'd never ask!"
Repressing a self-satisfied grin, he allowed his head to be lowered and pressed his lips to hers. Her mouth made Ogden's Finest taste even better. His hands slid up her back, until they touched soft spirals that his fingers demanded to sift through before using the strands to hold her in place while he deepened the kiss.
Making out like a teenager wasn't what he'd come up here for- but in some corner of his mind, he'd hoped... Eventually, the reality of cold, hard stone made his back ache and his mouth twist in rueful acknowledgement that he wasn't a teenager anymore. Snape's inadvertent groan as he rose and the nerves of his back protested were heard by Lorelei. She said concernedly,
"Poor baby, sitting against the wall for so long, let's go to my quarters. My aunt just sent a sample of Siren Magic Massage Oil, and I'll work those kinks right out."
Inclining his head in acceptance of her offer, Severus demurred that he could only permit her aid if he were allowed to return the favor. The siren giggled all the way back to her rooms.
The next evening, the saturnine professor hesitated before the painting of The Siren. The canvas swung up when Tynan exited his daughter's chambers. The un-fairly and un-naturally attractive man let the painting fall back into place after stepping out into the corridor. The black eyes regarding Severus conveyed patient amusement. Weren't fathers supposed to be antagonistic to the men who 'took' their little girls away from them? If he ever had a daughter, especially one that was too beautiful for her own good, he'd be trying to frighten whoever she brought round into keeping their hands to themselves. This one hadn't even raised an eyebrow!
"Come. Walk me to the entry. We can talk along the way."
Internally sneering at the man who used his compelling voice to manipulate others, the lean professor strolled beside Tynan, determined to make the selkie say the first word. They climbed the dungeon stairway and traveled the corridor, through the entry, in silence. At the front steps, the Potions Master snapped, "What did you wish to talk about?"
"I approve."
Glaring incredulously at the man who was now walking down the steps, Snape demanded, "Halt. You approve of what? Your daughter having a relationship with me...a former Death Eater without one-quarter her wealth or family connections...how can you approve...what kind of bloody piss-poor father are you?"
Tynan gave a bark of laughter. Turning his head, the man flashed the winning smile he'd passed on to his daughter.
"I am a Selkie father. I do not require anything except love. Hers for you and yours for her...blessed be."
Grimly determined that his daughter was going to know that her father abso-bloody-lutely had higher standards than feelings when it came to suitor suitability, Snape was nevertheless oddly relieved that Lorelei's father had a much laxer standard. Noticing Tynan's quick, purposeful strides, the professor tried to curtail his curiosity, but couldn't. He had to know. He called, "Where the blazes are you going?"
Without turning, the man's lyrically compelling voice answered,
"To the village."
Severus almost asked why, but decided that he didn't care- Lorelei awaited. In a swirl of black robes, he quickly returned to the dungeon chamber.
Within The Three Broomsticks, Madam Rosmerta glanced around the empty pub and frowned. The day after Yule was always bad for business. Too many people stayed out drinking and carousing the night before and stayed home the next day watching the Yule log burn- celebrating life amid the symbolic death of winter. She had spent last night chatting with her customers.
Her last date had turned out to be married with three kids. The humongous arse...not that he was that great a loss anyway. Sighing, the bold woman wished that a gorgeous bloke would stroll into her pub and have a chat, make her smile for a change. Taking a step behind the bar, the vibrant woman heard a crunching sound. Looking down, she noticed a shard of glass. Bending, she picked it up, cursing when the sharp edge pricked her finger.
"May I?"
Gentle male fingers used a clean cloth to apply pressure to the cut. Rosmerta glanced up at the face of a gent that made 'easy on the eyes' an understatement. His dark eyes somehow conveyed that although life could be painful, he was determined to enjoy it to the fullest. How amazing. She felt that way too. He gave a charming grin and introduced himself as 'Tynan'.
Leaning a hip against the bar, the Rosmerta smiled and introduced herself. The day was looking up.
A/N: Werewolves of London is by Warren Zevon and seemed perfect for Remus. (wolfish grin) Anyone else like the thought of Remus/Severus eventually forming a friendship of some kind...? Review and let me know!
