What the Seer Saw

What the Seer Saw

"The end is near, Severus."

Snape pressed two fingers forcefully into his temple with the distant hope that if he cut the circulation to his brain he would be rendered unconscious and not have to hear her shrill, banshee-like voice a second longer. "How do I die this time, Professor Trelawney?"

"Attacked by a nundu," she said plainly.

"Interesting," he drawled. "So I'll be visiting East Africa in the future."

Sybill Trelawney smiled softly, her eyes large and bugged behind her thick round glasses. "You mock that which you do not understand, Severus."

"I mock the foolish and inane. It's not my fault you fit the category so well."

"Mark my words, Severus, the end is near."

"Ms. Trelawney, in the past month alone you've told me I would be torn to pieces by a chimaeras, crushed by Hagrid, and hit with a rogue bludger to my privates, forgive me for being ever so slightly doubtful. Now if you don't mind I have better ways of spending my time - "

"Your detention awaits. Be heedful, Mr. Longbottom is particularly distracted this night." She threw her scarf around her shoulder, the end tickling Snape's nose, and floated passed him, her sweet and pungent perfume polluting the air long after she left.

With a start, he turned and marched off to the dungeons and the Gryffindor cowering its dark corridors. The joy he usually felt when he had an evening of mental torture planned was diluted by a strange feeling of disquiet brought on by the by the cautionary words of the Divination teacher. He doled out detentions as often as Dumbledore did lemon drops, and Longbottom was a frequent recipient of both.

It was just a lucky guess.

Later that night as Snape sat in his rooms nursing his burned arm with a double scotch -- or two -- he thought of the old crow and her parting words. Longbottom was a menace to anything with a pulse; surely she just assumed he would screw up so royally. Still he had been better as of late, not as ...distracted. Snape shook his head. This was Sybill - The sound of bells drives away demons because they're afraid of the loud noise - Trelawney.

Sybill - Evil spirits can't harm you when you stand inside a circle - Trelawney

Sybill -

A bird in the house is a sign of a death.

If a mirror in the house falls and breaks by itself, someone will die soon.

A white moth inside the house or trying to enter the house means death.

Dropping an umbrella on the floor means that there will be a death.

If the left eye twitches there will soon be a death.

Death. Death. Die. Fatal. Terminal. Expire. Agonizing tortuous death. And more Death.

- Trelawney

He threw back another generous double and berated himself for his stupidity, and for giving the charlatan's words any credence. He would have raised his eyebrow in irritation had it not been singed clean off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a week later as he sat in the infirmary with an ice pack on his genitals while Madame Pomfrey suppressed giggles as she spoke of the dangers of Quidditch -- and unrestrained competition -- that Severus Snape rethought his opinion of the seer.

His week began with a trip into the Forbidden forest for some potions ingredients and an encounter with an amorous chimaeras that got overly excited and clawed at his robes, tearing them to shreds.

On Wednesday, that oaf Hagrid nearly flattened him when he stumbled back and landed on the Potions master's lap. To add insult to injury Snape's lapful of the jolly giant -- and his less than academic cries of "Umffff," "PFfffffffffttt," "Aaaaaaagh" and "Mummy" -- were witness by the entire school in the Great Hall, student and staff.

Then today's little incident with the runaway bludger and his nether regions. And he had been in the library at the time.

He was longing for the quiet of his dungeons and the comfort of his scotch -- which he was dangerously low on -- when the Headmaster entered the ward.

"How are you feeling, Severus?"

"Outstanding," he sneered. "Nothing rouses one up quite as well as severe trauma to the testicles. I think I'll ask Filch to knee me in the groin on a regular basis."

Albus Dumbledore's eyes twinkled behind his half moon glasses. "You have had a bit of a trying week haven't you?"

Snape managed a glare and a snarl that would have reduced a lesser wizard to tears and caused a Hufflepuff to spontaneously combust. "Trying, indeed."

"Then might I suggest some time away from Hogwarts. It appeared there's been some trouble at a wizard village in Tanzania. We believe some Death Eaters have been trying to trap magical creatures in the area for export here, to aid in Voldemort's next campaign. I would like someone to go and investigate -"

"Tanzania. That's...that's in East Africa isn't it," he said nervously.

"Yes, it is."

"Magical creatures you say." He felt the blood drain from his face.

"I did."

"East Africa." He paled a bit more.

"Yes, Severus is everything all right?"

Dumbledore would have to wait for Snape to regain consciousness before he got his answer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When he was dismissed from Madame Pomfrey's care, he went straight to the North Tower.

"Sybill," he called. "Sybill are...are you available?"

She floated down from her private rooms at the top of the spiral staircase draped in a long flowing night dress cut low in the front and layered with silk and lace. "You called, Severus?"

"Sybill," he began, his face twitching as he tried to force his lips into a smile. "Sybill, I was wondering if...if ...if you have had any recent visions concerning ...well...concerning me."

Her pink lips curled into an impish smile. "I knew you would come to me. I've been waiting for this day for some time."

"You...you have."

"You are nervous." She lowered her eyes and stared at Snape through her lashes. "Allow me to fix you some of my special tea." She motioned up to her rooms, and Snape could only look on dumbly and follow.

Her quarters were just as he pictured them. The floor was littered with overstuffed pillows and bright poufs; sheets of fine toile hanging from the ceiling oddly resembled a spider's web, and burning pots of incense levitated in the room filling it with a misting of smoke and making it smell of nutmeg and burnet leaves.

"Sybill," he called, struggling as the sheets of sheer fabric that surrounded him wound around tightly the more he tried to pass. It didn't help that he was feeling light headed from the odiferous fog and lack of sanity that seem to always follow the Divination Teacher. "Sybill...I don't want tea. I...I ...oh for the love of - are you sure about the nundu?"

"I know only that which is foretold in the cards of my mother's mother, in stars that fill the sky, in the leaves - "

"Yes, lovely, poetic actually, but what about the nundu?"

"I told you all I know."

Snape fell to the ground landing on a fuchsia cushion shaped like a squished tomato with his head in his hands. Sybill glided next to him and knelt by his side. "You are frightened, Severus. I can understand. We are not all capable of handling the events of the future. It is indeed a burden to have to be the bearer of such news to so many. Let me make you feel better. Allow me to take your mind out of your body for a moment."

He looked up. "You know a spell to do that?" he asked.

"Not a spell," she laughed softly, "but it is a gift I possess."

"Are you a mystic?"

"No, but I can give you a spiritual experience," she said silkily.

"Like a shaman."

"Sex, Severus," she snapped, her voice sharp and spiked. "I'm talking about sex."

"Sex," he squealed, his eyes wide. "With you?"

She regained her composure, allowed her silken nightgown to slip off her shoulder and flashed an all-too-eager grin. "I think you will find my abilities are...exceptional."

"Well... sex. I mean I never...I don't..."

"You've never had sex, have you."

Snape blushed. "Well, that would require actually touching another person, wouldn't it? And it is rather messy. Sticky...and all those bodily fluids leaking out." He grimaced. "And all that moaning and shrieking and calling out of names, distorted facial expressions...not very dignified is it?"

"You're a virgin?"

"Oh God," he said with sudden realization. He buried his face in his hands again. This was mortifying. "Just what I need: another label to add to an already illustrious list. Death Eater, teacher to the brainless, and virgin. I don't want to die a virgin." With a sigh and a hard swallow, he relented. "Sybill...be gentle."

"Let me take care of everything."

One minute and thirty seven seconds later.

"That's it?"

"No, you need penetration for it actually be considered sex, but it was a good start. Your equipment seems more than acceptable."

"Shall we try again then."

Twenty minutes later.

"That was...that was..."

"Much better. But I see much more practice in your future."

Two hours later.

"I had no idea what I was missing."

"You are a quick study, Severus. But I think next time you should refrain from shouting Remus quite so loudly."

"I don't ...I mean... fine I think I'm ready to go again.

Two days later.

"Don't you have classes to teach?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albus Dumbledore stood in front of his staff, twirling the end of his long beard in his fingers.

"Professor Snape has taken a short leave to see to a matter for me and should hopefully return within the month. In the interim please join me in welcoming Mr. Weasley who graciously agreed to take over the Potions classes until Professor Snape returns."

Bill sat and smiled at the staff who seemed genuinely pleased to have him in their midst. As he entered the corridor after the meeting ended, he turned to find the scrutinizing, and somewhat magnified, eyes of Sybill Trelawney staring at him.

"I've been reading your cards young William. I fear for you during your time in our fold."

"What do you see?" he asked skeptically.

"William...I'm afraid the end is near."

Finis