Disclaimer: I'm sure you guys know I own Harry Potter...oh wait. Darn. That's not me. Lol. Well, anyways, JKR owns all of this and maybe some other people too, but either way, I don't own anything here, apart from my own twisted story. This was written for a dare of sorts. I hope you guys like it...I tried to make it as little weird as possible. But the whole dare was about weird pairings, so (shrug)

Enjoy!

A Love-Hate-Lust Relationship

A love-hate-lust relationship.

That's what it was. That's what it had been since she had been sacked by Umbridge and replaced by…not even a him but an it. And every time that she ever thought of Umbridge, Sybill's eyes would flash dangerously, and her back would straighten. Her walk would change too, so that she looked like a majestic insect, the queen that ruled with passion and will power. But still, just a small insect, with her magnified eyes.

But Firenze disagreed. His eyes had looked all over her body, most of it in his mind but he loved to watch, in particular, her eyes. They were…different. They held the aura of a woman who had been through a lot, and to save herself, she had developed a cocoon around herself, a story that she believed in, that showed in her eyes.

She barely noticed him, and when she did, it was only to give him a condescending look if disgust, and, although only seen by himself, it was a look that was more accusing that angry or disgusted. He had come, to destroy her little hope of happiness. He had taken her job and she was now but half a teacher, and the other teachers, who already looked down on her now had even more reason to do so.

She knew the way Snape would sneer at her. She recognised McGonagall's look of disgust well. She saw the condescension present in Sprout, Flitwick, all of the other teachers, but the most painful to her was the look of pity that Dumbledore gave her. It made her disgusted with herself, and that was more painful than anybody disgusted with her.

So she viewed the end of summer with mild depression, and she was sure that even her most loyal students (usually girls) might secretly prefer to have taken Divination with Firenze, who looked attractive to them. Not her, she was sure. She could never have been attracted to such a…centaur!

But in the late of nights, when she was laying in her bed, hoping that there might be a comforting hand to help ease her pain, she would think about him. She would think about his chest, human chest that was attractive to…her students (Not her. Never her!). She would think about his hands, so large and manly, rough but she also remembered how when he talked, there was an elegance to the movements of his hands, a certain gentleness than most men could never achieve. She would remember his eyes, the lack of disgust or pity in them. They made her feel like a human, not an insect. And there was more in his eyes. There was a certain…lust in them. They made her feel like a woman, not just a human or insect, but an attractive woman, that could produce lust in…not men. Centaurs. But it was still something to be able to feel like this.

And as the summer drew to a close, and the term became closer, Firenze's constantly vigilant eyes noticed a change in the look Sybill gave to him. They looked less distrustful (trusting would be going too far, She had suffered too much to trust that easily.). There was a sparkle of hope in them, a distant wish of her life being a little less miserable in the future. And Firenze liked it. He liked this change and he wanted it to continue. Until Sybill could feel happy again, and he was willing to do everything he could to do that. So he continued watching her, making her feel like a human, a woman, and he continued not saying a word to her.

And that was how they had here tonight. School had started, but the hope in Sybill's eyes had grown, and even Dumbledore had noted it, although that was because Sybill had tried to hide her growing attraction and affection for an it by insulting him all the more, especially to Dumbledore.

The lust had won, however. And they were here, in bed. In a manner of speaking. And Firenze watched Sybill sleeping peacefully, a faint hint of a smile on her face. And he bent down to kiss her on her forehead. She opened her eyes, and looking into his, she gave a smile for certain now. And closed her eyes to go to sleep again. She had found her comforting hand, and she had (she hoped) showed her gratitude in a way that was…pleasurable (for lack of a better word) to him.

The act would continue tomorrow, she would insult him, to hide their affections, their relationships. And some part of her still resented him. Theirs would always be a love-hate-lust relationship. But it was what helped them get through everyday.