WordESmith -- Thanks muchly. : ) Yes, agreed completely. You know what they say about self-fulfilling prophecies, don't you? The questions remains, is this one?
Strick -- Thanks!
Ezmerelda -- LOLOLOL appropriate or not, I find I have to agree with you. ::smirks:: Yes, you're right. Not to Hermione specifically, but rather her intent is to drive him to accept when she finally *does* suggest someone 'acceptable'. : )~
**********
Chapter Six
**********
Sybil's chest was tight, painfully so. She was running out of time to avoid disaster and she well knew it. She still couldn't believe Albus hadn't taken her warning more seriously. He knew she'd seen it, and that it was as real as the tea she'd just shared with the doddering old man. Unfortunately, Severus Snape was still here, still teaching, and it was blatantly obvious that as Headmaster, Albus had no intention of kicking the pervert out. It certainly put her in an awfully difficult position.
Now, she was left with actually *considering* Serapha Snape's utterly outrageous idea. The bastard's own mother had approached her earlier about a possible marriage alignment between herself and Severus Snape. She had mentally dismissed it out of hand, though she hadn't done so out loud. She'd told the barmy woman that she'd definitely consider 'such a fine catch'. Sybil rolled her eyes; though, she had to admit it was a prime way to make sure he didn't marry the muggle-born student. She had been so sure that Albus would do the right thing. Professors that got involved with students weren't supposed to be allowed to stay. Unfortunately, the trusting fool, had decided a 'talking to' was enough. He had *faith* that his potions professor would do nothing . . . indiscrete until *after* the chit graduated.
She sighed. She couldn't believe she was doing this, despite the fact that it was now her best chance to foil her horrifying vision. It might be her last chance, really, short of disappearing again.
She squared her shoulders, renewing her determination and set off toward the lower levels of the castle. Serapha had given her blessing to see if Severus Snape could be convinced, and now all Sybil had to do was seduce a prickly potion master.
She shuddered. He really wasn't her type. It would be worth it, however, she told herself firmly. She'd be alive.
Making her way toward Severus' classroom, hoping he'd still be there, Sybil absently nodded to the haughty Granger girl in response to the chit's nod, and hasty greeting. She did wonder what the girl was doing in the dungeons at this time of night, though. It worried her. What if--
Ahead of her, Professor Snape emerged from his classroom. **Damn it all!** she thought, refusing to cast a glare back in the direction of the fleeing student. **I'd better make this good,** she thought.
"Severus," she called out, dropping her timber of her voice to a husky purr. She forced her mouth into a small smile, allowing her hips to sway seductively as Severus turned to face her.
"What do you want, *Professor*?" he demanded, eyes narrowing.
"Why, you, of course," Sybil purred, reaching out, letting her palms caress the dark haired man's chest.
For a split moment, Severus gawked at her. It didn't last long. He jerked backward, stiffening. "What in Merlin's name has gotten into you?" he ranted. "First you make that utterly assinine *prediction* about my getting married -- to a *student* no less, and now . . . now you're behaving like a . . . a two knut tart!"
**Two knut tart! How *dare* he?!** Outwardly, Sybil showed no sign of her outrage. She was on a mission, a mission she had to succeed at. "Oh, come now, Severus, surely you're not one of those that say a woman willing to go after what she wants sexually simply *must* be a whore? I'd have thought you a *bit* more progressive than that."
"Of course not!" Severus denied hotly. "But what *other* kind of *woman* would throw herself at a man she *believes* will be getting married soon?" he continued disdainfully, his voice dripping with silky venom.
**Grrrrrrrrr!!!!**
Sybil doubled her efforts. "Don't you see, I mistook the woman in the vision. It was my . . . jealousy that made me tell of it, Severusss," she explained, moving closer, molding her body to his, winding her arms around his neck.
**Damn this man is stiffer than the stone Gargoyles! No wonder he's always so ticked off.**
"Get off me, you imbecilic woman!" Severus shouted, grabbing her wrists and forcibly shoving her away from him. "You are *truly* delusional, if you think I would be willing to marry *you*."
Sybil almost frowned. His voice had hinted at a measure of incredulity that was quite insulting if she allowed herself to really think about it. She wasn't exactly a hideous hag, she well knew that, to be reject so . . . soundly.
"Oh, come now, surely an intelligent man such as yourself isn't going to turn down *this* package?" she asked pointedly, slowly running her hands down her own body in a blatantly sexual manner, emphasising her best features.
"I can and I will!" he huffed indignantly, stepping back further. "Now, leave me the bloody hell alone!"
Inwardly, Sybil seethed. She hadn't expected him to be this hard to convince! Once she'd gotten past her own revulsion, she'd been sure her evident charms would make it a rather simple matter. Oh, sure, she knew the man didn't have the good taste to respect her, but since when did a man need to respect a woman to . . . sample her wares?
"Severus," she tried again, this time planning on pulling out her coup de gras, "don't fight the attraction. It really isn't necessary. After all, even your mother agrees we're a good match. Now tell me, who knows her children better than a loving mother?"
"I'm going to kill her!"
"No you are not," Sybil continued doggedly. **Really! The man was being unbearably unreasonable. She didn't let that deter her, however. She *had* to make this work. "You are going to be the dutiful son and abide by her wishes. She *is* within her rights, you know."
Eyes narrowing, a fire flashing in them that worried Sybil just slightly, Severus stepped forward moving well into her personal space, not stopping until their bodies were *almost* touching. He leaned forward and Sybil crowed as she felt his breath hiss out against her ear.
"Sybil," he whispered, his voice low and silky.
She trembled, the soft, seductive sound sending delicious shocks of heat through her. **Oh! This may be truly worth it after all,** she thought in giddy delight.
"If my choice were between marrying you, or marrying a talentless muggle. . . ." he paused, and Sybil tensed, holding her breath. "I'd choose the muggle," he continued firmly. Pulling back, he turned abruptly, robes billowing out around him as he strode away from her.
"You son of a bitch!" she muttered angrily.
"First thing you got right all night," Severus retorted, his laughter fading as he continued away.
**We'll see about that!** she thought vindictively. No one got away with insulting her like that.
Anger raging through her, Sybil stalked off the opposite direction. Despite everything, she simply *had* to find something that would change the bastard's mind. There was no two ways about it. With his mother here actively pursuing the idea of getting her son married, Sybil's vision was that much closer to being forced into realization. The big question was how? It was obvious that he was letting his opinion of her subject color his judgement of her personally.
She sighed. But how could she go about changing that. She didn't have time to work on him slowly, revealing by small bits at a time that she wasn't the idiot that she portrayed to the world. She was tempted to stomp her feet in frustration. It seemed that no matter which way she turned she was thwarted in her attempts.
She felt the tears coming and could do nothing to stop them. Why? she asked herself. All she was trying to do was save her own life. Surely that wasn't too much to ask. Why couldn't people just *cooperate*?
Lost in her own little world of hurt and confusion, she rounded the corner, only to collide with a very solid roadblock. Both her and the other person rebounded landing ignominiously on the cold, hard floor.
"Watch where--" Draco Malfoy cut himself off hastily, rising quickly to his feet and fastidiously brushing off his robes. "Oh! Professor. My apologies." He reached out a hand, which Trelawney accepted, allowing the boy to pull her to her feet.
As she rose, a new thought blared blindingly through her. **I couldn't possibly,** she thought uneasily. Desperation, however, made her truly consider it. She watched in speculation as the Malfoy child collected his school books and carefully weighed her options. By the time he nodded to her, ready to go on his way, she stopped him, her mind made up.
"Mr. Malfoy."
"Yes, Professor?" he asked politely, stopping and turning back around to face her immediately.
**So respectful,** Sybil thought sourly. **Too damn bad it's all an act.**
"After classes today, please stop by the divination tower. I would like you to send a note to your father for me."
A flicker of distaste crossed his face before it was quickly hidden away.
**Ah, so the precious Malfoy heir doesn't like being treated like message boy.** She almost laughed. **Too damn bad.**
"Certainly, Professor. May I ask why you don't simply send it by your own owl?"
"No, you may not," she snapped. "Just show up."
His features tightening, the boy clenched his jaw but managed to still speak politely. "Yes, Ma'am," he replied with a nod.
Sybil smirked as he walked off, noting with amusement that the boy probably thought she was completely off her nut and was quite obviously doing his best to keep his retreat to a dignified walk. A touch of guilt fluttered inside her as the arrogant boy round the next corner and disappeared from sight, but she squashed it instantly.
This was her life she was trying to save. She had the right to protect herself.
//And what of the people who'll get hurt because of what you're planning?//
**What of it?** she shot back ruthlessly. It was time she grew a backbone and started fighting back with everything she had. And with that she managed to silence her conscience. She'd deal with problems as they arose, not create all new ones ahead of time.
TBC
Kiristeen
Feedback: Food of the muses and inspirational to boot. : )
Kiristeen@kiristeen.com
.
Strick -- Thanks!
Ezmerelda -- LOLOLOL appropriate or not, I find I have to agree with you. ::smirks:: Yes, you're right. Not to Hermione specifically, but rather her intent is to drive him to accept when she finally *does* suggest someone 'acceptable'. : )~
**********
Chapter Six
**********
Sybil's chest was tight, painfully so. She was running out of time to avoid disaster and she well knew it. She still couldn't believe Albus hadn't taken her warning more seriously. He knew she'd seen it, and that it was as real as the tea she'd just shared with the doddering old man. Unfortunately, Severus Snape was still here, still teaching, and it was blatantly obvious that as Headmaster, Albus had no intention of kicking the pervert out. It certainly put her in an awfully difficult position.
Now, she was left with actually *considering* Serapha Snape's utterly outrageous idea. The bastard's own mother had approached her earlier about a possible marriage alignment between herself and Severus Snape. She had mentally dismissed it out of hand, though she hadn't done so out loud. She'd told the barmy woman that she'd definitely consider 'such a fine catch'. Sybil rolled her eyes; though, she had to admit it was a prime way to make sure he didn't marry the muggle-born student. She had been so sure that Albus would do the right thing. Professors that got involved with students weren't supposed to be allowed to stay. Unfortunately, the trusting fool, had decided a 'talking to' was enough. He had *faith* that his potions professor would do nothing . . . indiscrete until *after* the chit graduated.
She sighed. She couldn't believe she was doing this, despite the fact that it was now her best chance to foil her horrifying vision. It might be her last chance, really, short of disappearing again.
She squared her shoulders, renewing her determination and set off toward the lower levels of the castle. Serapha had given her blessing to see if Severus Snape could be convinced, and now all Sybil had to do was seduce a prickly potion master.
She shuddered. He really wasn't her type. It would be worth it, however, she told herself firmly. She'd be alive.
Making her way toward Severus' classroom, hoping he'd still be there, Sybil absently nodded to the haughty Granger girl in response to the chit's nod, and hasty greeting. She did wonder what the girl was doing in the dungeons at this time of night, though. It worried her. What if--
Ahead of her, Professor Snape emerged from his classroom. **Damn it all!** she thought, refusing to cast a glare back in the direction of the fleeing student. **I'd better make this good,** she thought.
"Severus," she called out, dropping her timber of her voice to a husky purr. She forced her mouth into a small smile, allowing her hips to sway seductively as Severus turned to face her.
"What do you want, *Professor*?" he demanded, eyes narrowing.
"Why, you, of course," Sybil purred, reaching out, letting her palms caress the dark haired man's chest.
For a split moment, Severus gawked at her. It didn't last long. He jerked backward, stiffening. "What in Merlin's name has gotten into you?" he ranted. "First you make that utterly assinine *prediction* about my getting married -- to a *student* no less, and now . . . now you're behaving like a . . . a two knut tart!"
**Two knut tart! How *dare* he?!** Outwardly, Sybil showed no sign of her outrage. She was on a mission, a mission she had to succeed at. "Oh, come now, Severus, surely you're not one of those that say a woman willing to go after what she wants sexually simply *must* be a whore? I'd have thought you a *bit* more progressive than that."
"Of course not!" Severus denied hotly. "But what *other* kind of *woman* would throw herself at a man she *believes* will be getting married soon?" he continued disdainfully, his voice dripping with silky venom.
**Grrrrrrrrr!!!!**
Sybil doubled her efforts. "Don't you see, I mistook the woman in the vision. It was my . . . jealousy that made me tell of it, Severusss," she explained, moving closer, molding her body to his, winding her arms around his neck.
**Damn this man is stiffer than the stone Gargoyles! No wonder he's always so ticked off.**
"Get off me, you imbecilic woman!" Severus shouted, grabbing her wrists and forcibly shoving her away from him. "You are *truly* delusional, if you think I would be willing to marry *you*."
Sybil almost frowned. His voice had hinted at a measure of incredulity that was quite insulting if she allowed herself to really think about it. She wasn't exactly a hideous hag, she well knew that, to be reject so . . . soundly.
"Oh, come now, surely an intelligent man such as yourself isn't going to turn down *this* package?" she asked pointedly, slowly running her hands down her own body in a blatantly sexual manner, emphasising her best features.
"I can and I will!" he huffed indignantly, stepping back further. "Now, leave me the bloody hell alone!"
Inwardly, Sybil seethed. She hadn't expected him to be this hard to convince! Once she'd gotten past her own revulsion, she'd been sure her evident charms would make it a rather simple matter. Oh, sure, she knew the man didn't have the good taste to respect her, but since when did a man need to respect a woman to . . . sample her wares?
"Severus," she tried again, this time planning on pulling out her coup de gras, "don't fight the attraction. It really isn't necessary. After all, even your mother agrees we're a good match. Now tell me, who knows her children better than a loving mother?"
"I'm going to kill her!"
"No you are not," Sybil continued doggedly. **Really! The man was being unbearably unreasonable. She didn't let that deter her, however. She *had* to make this work. "You are going to be the dutiful son and abide by her wishes. She *is* within her rights, you know."
Eyes narrowing, a fire flashing in them that worried Sybil just slightly, Severus stepped forward moving well into her personal space, not stopping until their bodies were *almost* touching. He leaned forward and Sybil crowed as she felt his breath hiss out against her ear.
"Sybil," he whispered, his voice low and silky.
She trembled, the soft, seductive sound sending delicious shocks of heat through her. **Oh! This may be truly worth it after all,** she thought in giddy delight.
"If my choice were between marrying you, or marrying a talentless muggle. . . ." he paused, and Sybil tensed, holding her breath. "I'd choose the muggle," he continued firmly. Pulling back, he turned abruptly, robes billowing out around him as he strode away from her.
"You son of a bitch!" she muttered angrily.
"First thing you got right all night," Severus retorted, his laughter fading as he continued away.
**We'll see about that!** she thought vindictively. No one got away with insulting her like that.
Anger raging through her, Sybil stalked off the opposite direction. Despite everything, she simply *had* to find something that would change the bastard's mind. There was no two ways about it. With his mother here actively pursuing the idea of getting her son married, Sybil's vision was that much closer to being forced into realization. The big question was how? It was obvious that he was letting his opinion of her subject color his judgement of her personally.
She sighed. But how could she go about changing that. She didn't have time to work on him slowly, revealing by small bits at a time that she wasn't the idiot that she portrayed to the world. She was tempted to stomp her feet in frustration. It seemed that no matter which way she turned she was thwarted in her attempts.
She felt the tears coming and could do nothing to stop them. Why? she asked herself. All she was trying to do was save her own life. Surely that wasn't too much to ask. Why couldn't people just *cooperate*?
Lost in her own little world of hurt and confusion, she rounded the corner, only to collide with a very solid roadblock. Both her and the other person rebounded landing ignominiously on the cold, hard floor.
"Watch where--" Draco Malfoy cut himself off hastily, rising quickly to his feet and fastidiously brushing off his robes. "Oh! Professor. My apologies." He reached out a hand, which Trelawney accepted, allowing the boy to pull her to her feet.
As she rose, a new thought blared blindingly through her. **I couldn't possibly,** she thought uneasily. Desperation, however, made her truly consider it. She watched in speculation as the Malfoy child collected his school books and carefully weighed her options. By the time he nodded to her, ready to go on his way, she stopped him, her mind made up.
"Mr. Malfoy."
"Yes, Professor?" he asked politely, stopping and turning back around to face her immediately.
**So respectful,** Sybil thought sourly. **Too damn bad it's all an act.**
"After classes today, please stop by the divination tower. I would like you to send a note to your father for me."
A flicker of distaste crossed his face before it was quickly hidden away.
**Ah, so the precious Malfoy heir doesn't like being treated like message boy.** She almost laughed. **Too damn bad.**
"Certainly, Professor. May I ask why you don't simply send it by your own owl?"
"No, you may not," she snapped. "Just show up."
His features tightening, the boy clenched his jaw but managed to still speak politely. "Yes, Ma'am," he replied with a nod.
Sybil smirked as he walked off, noting with amusement that the boy probably thought she was completely off her nut and was quite obviously doing his best to keep his retreat to a dignified walk. A touch of guilt fluttered inside her as the arrogant boy round the next corner and disappeared from sight, but she squashed it instantly.
This was her life she was trying to save. She had the right to protect herself.
//And what of the people who'll get hurt because of what you're planning?//
**What of it?** she shot back ruthlessly. It was time she grew a backbone and started fighting back with everything she had. And with that she managed to silence her conscience. She'd deal with problems as they arose, not create all new ones ahead of time.
TBC
Kiristeen
Feedback: Food of the muses and inspirational to boot. : )
Kiristeen@kiristeen.com
.
