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von Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made.
Pairings: Trelawney/Snape, Snape/Lockhart
Timeframe: A couple of weeks into the school year of Chamber of Secrets
Rating: PG-13
Category: Crack, Ficlet
In the wee hours after a staff meeting that had, predictably, devolved into rampant drinking, Professor Severus Snape was not happy. Sybill Trelawney, a woman whom he held in utter contempt, was currently draped all over his lap, presumably because any and all other owners of laps had already departed the staffroom. She had done this despite his obvious displeasure and his insistence that his personal space be respected. He was incensed, and also quite drunk, which at least partly explained how this had happened in the first place.
"Severus...", she slurred, "you are shuch a fine... such a fine gennleman. I dun' unnershtand why you have... you haven't got youshelf a nice... nice woman. It's sho shad..."
Trelawney had apparently hit the sherry harder than usual tonight. Not unlike what he himself had done with the firewhiskey...
The strong but pleasant burn of the liquor coursing through his body and fuzzying his mind, Snape tried to find a way out of this situation. Hexing Trelawney into next Tuesday was an appealing option, but he could not very well do that, now could he...?
In any case, this woman had to be removed from his person, where she was doing her best to expose herself to him in the most indecent manner possible, but was having little success. Sibyll Trelawney simply did not have much substance to expose, either physically or mentally, Snape groused to himself. She was a complete and utter dimbulb and stubborn as a mule to boot. He would not be able to get her to leave him alone (short of hexing her) unless he managed to convince her that his sexual orientation did not allow for women at all... In the morning she would not remember a thing.
"Sybill...", he said. Her eyes snapped up to his, though the blasted woman was still attempting to grab his arse with one hand and waving her sherry around with the other.
"I have never told anybody... But I believe that... you... need to know. Sybill... I do not have a woman because I am attracted to..." - his voice sank down to a silken murmur as he looked away - "men."
Trelawney's already huge eyes grew even bigger as this sunk in. He gave her a long moment of silence, doing his best to keep his features under control.
"I... Oh, Shev- Severus, I never realized... I'm sho shorry - thish musht be sho awkward..." She unsteadily extricated herself from his lap, sat next to him and pulled her outfit - if one could call it that - back into a semblance of modesty. Snape was still not looking at her directly, the better to keep up the facade of bashfulness he had chosen to present her with. This was why she startled him by grabbing his arm and leaning in close, getting her sherry-soaked breath in his face.
"Is this about... about G-Gilderoy?" The sudden, frantic flush in Trelawney's cheeks and the excited spark in her eyes made her look even more insane than usual. Snape mentally rolled his eyes at her... ah... assertion. She was obviously so far gone at this point that she would gobble up every little detail he cared to throw her way, however improbable. So why should he not have a little fun with this?
"Yes. It is about... Gilderoy." Snape could not bring himself to use that fop's name in a non-scathing tone of voice. He went on quickly: "He is so very beautiful, you realize", watching the rapt, vacuously smiling Seer out of the corners of his eyes, "His hair alone, those gorgeous golden curls - what I would not give to run my hands through them." He amusedly noted how Trelawney's gaze went from his face to his fingers at that, her expression no less vacuous than before. Less careful of his tone now, Snape found that he could draw little... noises from the woman simply by describing Lockhart, that useless snot-faced poseur, in the most ridiculously overdone terms.
"He would be my magnificent lion, if only he would see..." Snape's voice had gradually taken on a heavily sarcastic drawl, to which Trelawney seemed to be oblivious. He stared down his nose at her as he would with an indolent student, steepling his fingers, and went on: "That man is a man after my own heart. He is a hero, a veritable maverick - the only one who can truly ensnare my senses, Sybill." Just like he had evidently done with hers, copious amounts of sherry notwithstanding. "Gilderoy's eyes, his heavenly, his angelic blue eyes. They are what I imagine Godric Gryffindor's eyes to have looked like - eyes that can delight and caress my very soul. I am putty", yes, silly putty, possibly, "in his ever-so-skilled hands, though he may not realize it." It had worked again; Trelawney was staring at Snape's own hands, albeit with drooping eyelids. How amusing. He allowed himself a dismissive smile, which he assumed would be interpreted as wistful by the silly woman.
"Oh, Severus, that'sh sho tragic..." Trelawney sighed, leaning heavily on his shoulder. He carefully let her flop back in her chair, which she did not seem to notice.
"Yes, it is a tragic, and an unrequited love. I can never reach him the way that you could, Sybill", he solemnly acknowledged her starstruck contribution to his monologue.
Trelawney took another swig from her bottle. Finding it empty, she glared at it for a few moments, as though it had personally slighted her. Returning to their conversation, she said:
"It'sh funny, though... you are alwaysh mean to him, and he triesh to upshtage you all the time..."
Snape was amazed at her. Even though the woman was so obtuse, she had noticed his... attitude towards that fraudulent coward. Since Trelawney had flights of fancy as numerous as her scented shawls, she was certain to reinterpret his antagonistic behaviour as attention-seeking or some such nonsense. Well, that was an idea, actually...
"Yes, I do antagonize... Gilderoy", the name still came out with a noticeable touch of true venom, "quite a bit, do I not? It is the only way that a celebrity of his rank will interact with a lowly nobody like me, you realize. I hate that I am attracted to him, I can never have him... and antagonizing him like that at least wipes that smile off his perfect, glistening lips..." Snape knew he was really laying it on thick now, too thick perhaps to keep the Seer fooled. He looked her in the eye for a moment to double-check - no, she was still following merrily and willingly along (and staring at his mouth). The straw-headed woman seemed to consider the sordid tale he was spinning her a romantic and dramatic thing.
"Oh, Severus...", Trelawney sniffled, "you poor shweet man. You poor man." She tried to strike a dramatic pose, her hand over her forehead, but the sound of several copper bangles hitting her enormous spectacles rather ruined the effect.
"I really do believe you should turn in, Sybill.", said Snape, whose momentary amusement at this farce was fading fast. He stood, swaying ever-so-slightly, and stalked out of the room with a good approximation of his usual grace. Once around the nearest corner, he steadied himself against a wall and heard the staffroom door close one more time. Trelawney was on her way to her own quarters, too, apparently. Come next morning, she would not be the only one to wince at bright lights or loud noises and request an anti-hangover potion from him. The thought filled him with dark satisfaction.
At Breakfast, Snape was more than usually grouchy. His colleagues had begun turning up at his private quarters around six a.m., to ask, as predicted, for anti-hangover potions. This meant that he himself had gotten less than four hours of sleep. A combination of caffeine and pepper-up potion was all he needed to be functional, but it did nothing to lift his mood. Exuding his private little cloud of gloom, he consumed his breakfast. It was a good way to keep the others from bothering him - most of the teachers knew by now that to disturb him was to suffer the sharp end of his tongue.
One, however, did not. Gilderoy Lockhart, who, being on patrol duty, had not drunk himself silly the night before, arrived before most of the staff. To Snape's displeasure, he sat next to the surly Potions Master. Smiling broadly, he said:
"Good morning, Severus!" He was rewarded with an openly hostile stare. "I... er... Look, I never realized that... Oh, how do I put this...?" Lockhart was floundering, which made Snape smirk - just a little. Lockhart recovered, looking serious. "Severus. I am so very sorry... I never realized that you... felt that way... about me of all people. I regret having to tell you this... but I am not... into men." He seemed relieved to have said this.
Snape was absolutely flabbergasted. With the ugliest, fiercest scowl he could muster, he whipped around to face the hapless Defense teacher.
"I have no earthly idea what may have possessed you to come out with that kind of superfluous statement in my presence. I am not interested, nor will I ever be interested, in your current sexual leanings and various perversions, Gilderoy." The smile drained from Lockhart's face, filling Snape with the satisfaction of a job well done. Then, the damned man had the gall to look understanding.
"Severus - I see. There is no shame in admitting that you are attracted to me - everybody else is, so why not you? I regret having brought this up so... publicly, perhaps." He was again met with a hostile glare that would take the skin off a blackened cauldron, which at least served to shut him up.
Several seats away, Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, had followed this little exchange with interest and growing bafflement. He would have taken Gilderoy for... but no, that man was simply a bit flamboyant. Severus, however? He could've sworn that Severus was the furthest thing from homosexual. Was he getting so senile to be unable to read the signs? It certainly looked that way. Well, it was of no concern, so back to his porridge he went.
Pairings: Trelawney/Snape, Snape/Lockhart
Timeframe: A couple of weeks into the school year of Chamber of Secrets
Rating: PG-13
Category: Crack, Ficlet
In the wee hours after a staff meeting that had, predictably, devolved into rampant drinking, Professor Severus Snape was not happy. Sybill Trelawney, a woman whom he held in utter contempt, was currently draped all over his lap, presumably because any and all other owners of laps had already departed the staffroom. She had done this despite his obvious displeasure and his insistence that his personal space be respected. He was incensed, and also quite drunk, which at least partly explained how this had happened in the first place.
"Severus...", she slurred, "you are shuch a fine... such a fine gennleman. I dun' unnershtand why you have... you haven't got youshelf a nice... nice woman. It's sho shad..."
Trelawney had apparently hit the sherry harder than usual tonight. Not unlike what he himself had done with the firewhiskey...
The strong but pleasant burn of the liquor coursing through his body and fuzzying his mind, Snape tried to find a way out of this situation. Hexing Trelawney into next Tuesday was an appealing option, but he could not very well do that, now could he...?
In any case, this woman had to be removed from his person, where she was doing her best to expose herself to him in the most indecent manner possible, but was having little success. Sibyll Trelawney simply did not have much substance to expose, either physically or mentally, Snape groused to himself. She was a complete and utter dimbulb and stubborn as a mule to boot. He would not be able to get her to leave him alone (short of hexing her) unless he managed to convince her that his sexual orientation did not allow for women at all... In the morning she would not remember a thing.
"Sybill...", he said. Her eyes snapped up to his, though the blasted woman was still attempting to grab his arse with one hand and waving her sherry around with the other.
"I have never told anybody... But I believe that... you... need to know. Sybill... I do not have a woman because I am attracted to..." - his voice sank down to a silken murmur as he looked away - "men."
Trelawney's already huge eyes grew even bigger as this sunk in. He gave her a long moment of silence, doing his best to keep his features under control.
"I... Oh, Shev- Severus, I never realized... I'm sho shorry - thish musht be sho awkward..." She unsteadily extricated herself from his lap, sat next to him and pulled her outfit - if one could call it that - back into a semblance of modesty. Snape was still not looking at her directly, the better to keep up the facade of bashfulness he had chosen to present her with. This was why she startled him by grabbing his arm and leaning in close, getting her sherry-soaked breath in his face.
"Is this about... about G-Gilderoy?" The sudden, frantic flush in Trelawney's cheeks and the excited spark in her eyes made her look even more insane than usual. Snape mentally rolled his eyes at her... ah... assertion. She was obviously so far gone at this point that she would gobble up every little detail he cared to throw her way, however improbable. So why should he not have a little fun with this?
"Yes. It is about... Gilderoy." Snape could not bring himself to use that fop's name in a non-scathing tone of voice. He went on quickly: "He is so very beautiful, you realize", watching the rapt, vacuously smiling Seer out of the corners of his eyes, "His hair alone, those gorgeous golden curls - what I would not give to run my hands through them." He amusedly noted how Trelawney's gaze went from his face to his fingers at that, her expression no less vacuous than before. Less careful of his tone now, Snape found that he could draw little... noises from the woman simply by describing Lockhart, that useless snot-faced poseur, in the most ridiculously overdone terms.
"He would be my magnificent lion, if only he would see..." Snape's voice had gradually taken on a heavily sarcastic drawl, to which Trelawney seemed to be oblivious. He stared down his nose at her as he would with an indolent student, steepling his fingers, and went on: "That man is a man after my own heart. He is a hero, a veritable maverick - the only one who can truly ensnare my senses, Sybill." Just like he had evidently done with hers, copious amounts of sherry notwithstanding. "Gilderoy's eyes, his heavenly, his angelic blue eyes. They are what I imagine Godric Gryffindor's eyes to have looked like - eyes that can delight and caress my very soul. I am putty", yes, silly putty, possibly, "in his ever-so-skilled hands, though he may not realize it." It had worked again; Trelawney was staring at Snape's own hands, albeit with drooping eyelids. How amusing. He allowed himself a dismissive smile, which he assumed would be interpreted as wistful by the silly woman.
"Oh, Severus, that'sh sho tragic..." Trelawney sighed, leaning heavily on his shoulder. He carefully let her flop back in her chair, which she did not seem to notice.
"Yes, it is a tragic, and an unrequited love. I can never reach him the way that you could, Sybill", he solemnly acknowledged her starstruck contribution to his monologue.
Trelawney took another swig from her bottle. Finding it empty, she glared at it for a few moments, as though it had personally slighted her. Returning to their conversation, she said:
"It'sh funny, though... you are alwaysh mean to him, and he triesh to upshtage you all the time..."
Snape was amazed at her. Even though the woman was so obtuse, she had noticed his... attitude towards that fraudulent coward. Since Trelawney had flights of fancy as numerous as her scented shawls, she was certain to reinterpret his antagonistic behaviour as attention-seeking or some such nonsense. Well, that was an idea, actually...
"Yes, I do antagonize... Gilderoy", the name still came out with a noticeable touch of true venom, "quite a bit, do I not? It is the only way that a celebrity of his rank will interact with a lowly nobody like me, you realize. I hate that I am attracted to him, I can never have him... and antagonizing him like that at least wipes that smile off his perfect, glistening lips..." Snape knew he was really laying it on thick now, too thick perhaps to keep the Seer fooled. He looked her in the eye for a moment to double-check - no, she was still following merrily and willingly along (and staring at his mouth). The straw-headed woman seemed to consider the sordid tale he was spinning her a romantic and dramatic thing.
"Oh, Severus...", Trelawney sniffled, "you poor shweet man. You poor man." She tried to strike a dramatic pose, her hand over her forehead, but the sound of several copper bangles hitting her enormous spectacles rather ruined the effect.
"I really do believe you should turn in, Sybill.", said Snape, whose momentary amusement at this farce was fading fast. He stood, swaying ever-so-slightly, and stalked out of the room with a good approximation of his usual grace. Once around the nearest corner, he steadied himself against a wall and heard the staffroom door close one more time. Trelawney was on her way to her own quarters, too, apparently. Come next morning, she would not be the only one to wince at bright lights or loud noises and request an anti-hangover potion from him. The thought filled him with dark satisfaction.
At Breakfast, Snape was more than usually grouchy. His colleagues had begun turning up at his private quarters around six a.m., to ask, as predicted, for anti-hangover potions. This meant that he himself had gotten less than four hours of sleep. A combination of caffeine and pepper-up potion was all he needed to be functional, but it did nothing to lift his mood. Exuding his private little cloud of gloom, he consumed his breakfast. It was a good way to keep the others from bothering him - most of the teachers knew by now that to disturb him was to suffer the sharp end of his tongue.
One, however, did not. Gilderoy Lockhart, who, being on patrol duty, had not drunk himself silly the night before, arrived before most of the staff. To Snape's displeasure, he sat next to the surly Potions Master. Smiling broadly, he said:
"Good morning, Severus!" He was rewarded with an openly hostile stare. "I... er... Look, I never realized that... Oh, how do I put this...?" Lockhart was floundering, which made Snape smirk - just a little. Lockhart recovered, looking serious. "Severus. I am so very sorry... I never realized that you... felt that way... about me of all people. I regret having to tell you this... but I am not... into men." He seemed relieved to have said this.
Snape was absolutely flabbergasted. With the ugliest, fiercest scowl he could muster, he whipped around to face the hapless Defense teacher.
"I have no earthly idea what may have possessed you to come out with that kind of superfluous statement in my presence. I am not interested, nor will I ever be interested, in your current sexual leanings and various perversions, Gilderoy." The smile drained from Lockhart's face, filling Snape with the satisfaction of a job well done. Then, the damned man had the gall to look understanding.
"Severus - I see. There is no shame in admitting that you are attracted to me - everybody else is, so why not you? I regret having brought this up so... publicly, perhaps." He was again met with a hostile glare that would take the skin off a blackened cauldron, which at least served to shut him up.
Several seats away, Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, had followed this little exchange with interest and growing bafflement. He would have taken Gilderoy for... but no, that man was simply a bit flamboyant. Severus, however? He could've sworn that Severus was the furthest thing from homosexual. Was he getting so senile to be unable to read the signs? It certainly looked that way. Well, it was of no concern, so back to his porridge he went.
~The End~
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