Work Text:
1997
Sybill Trelawney jolted upright and brought her hand to her chest. Her heart raced as beads of sweat cooled her flushed cheeks. She reached for her wand on the bedside table and lit the oil lamp in her darkened bedroom. The only sound in the room was her own rapid breath as she rested against the headboard of her canopy bed.
“It was just a dream, Sybill. It’s always been just a dream," she said aloud to herself as she smoothed her unkempt hair. This was not the first time she had seen him in her dreams, nor the hundredth. Each time was a new thrill, but he was always the same. She slipped out of bed and stepped across the cold stone floor to open the window. The night breeze brought in the scent of ginger root and peppermint from the gardens below, and with it, the memory of the day they first met.The dreams had started that very night.
1977
It was an unusually warm spring day at the end of her fifth year at Hogwarts. She was in the garden gathering ginger root as a favor to Professor Slughorn. The young Ravenclaw was always the first to volunteer her time for the Slug Club in hopes she might get to spend an extra moment with the dark haired sixth year who had caught her eye in class. Two years had passed since the first time she saw him. He took her breath away then and had continued to consume her thoughts ever since. She knew he was one to keep to himself and would never even glance her way, but for two years, she had pined for the tall Slytherin with long and beautiful features.
With her head down and fingers busy in the dirt, she might have missed the encounter entirely. The empath felt a flutter in her chest before she heard the growl. Sybill looked up to see the object of her affection kick a Fireseed Bush before sitting behind it and let out another growl that soon became a quiet sob. It didn’t cross her mind to try to comfort her handsome classmate, but she felt a need to let him know he was not as secluded as he could be. She could not shake the feeling that despite being in the garden first, she was voyeur to his emotional implosion.
“Excuse me, I’m sorry to see you’re having a hard time. I come here to cry sometimes, too. I can leave you alone and collect my potion ingredients later. I just wanted you to know that you had company… and that the best place in the garden to let your feelings out is near the peppermint. The smell is soothing, and the area is more secluded," she explained with a look of concern.
He scowled at her. “I’ll have you know I am not crying. A… potion… went wrong. It must have impacted my… sinuses. Please, go about collecting your ingredients. I’d appreciate it if you would imagine I’m not here. I was never here.” His eyes were narrow in a glare. She saw the tear form at the tight corner of his eye but understood his desire to hide his emotions. She felt her own tattered and tear-stained handkerchief in the pocket of her jacket and discretely let it fall out as she walked away.
She did as she was told and collected her ginger root slowly, as to not leave the young man alone with his pain. Sybill lingered until he stood with a groan. She watched as he walked with his head hung low back to the castle. Upon leaving the garden, she stopped at the Fireseed bush to collect her handkerchief. A smile seized her face when she realized it was gone.
1997
As she gazed out the window, she read the stars above her as she had done countless times before and knew there was no chance of a lasting romance with the potions master but allowed herself wonder what would happen if she crept to the dungeon and woke him from his sleep to replay the events of her dream. Sybill took one last deep breath before closing the window and returning to bed. Her senses swirled with the scent of ginger, memories of the day they met, and the picturesque thought of him asleep several stories below her in the castle’s dungeons.
Unable to find sleep after the tantalizing visions that disrupted her night, Sybill woke earlier than usual. The scent of ginger root lingered in her memory as she started her tea kettle. Her tea preparation was disrupted by a knock at the door. She was entirely unprepared for students at this hour, and still in her night gown as she peered through the keyhole of her door. She saw a tall figure in the shadows and rubbed her eyes in disbelief. She fumbled for her glasses perched atop her untamed curls and opened the door. She smiled at the memory of all the dreams that had started exactly like this.
“I am terribly sorry to bother you, Professor. It seems a clumsy Gryffindor has shattered a bottle of ginger root in my dungeon. I come to you in hopes of borrowing some until I can send the hapless moron to the gardens in detention. If I recall, you use it for tea readings?” he explained as he stood in her doorway. She looked up at him, completely speechless, as he leaned against her door frame.
As if magically timed to keep her from seeming as awestruck as she was, the tea kettle whistled to pull her attention from his pleading eyes. She turned to the kitchen with a sigh of relief. “Of course, Professor. I’m peeling some for my morning tea right now. Do come in!," she called over her shoulder as she scurried to the screaming kettle.
Professor Trelawney was surprised to see Professor Snape make himself so comfortable at her small table. She returned to his side with two steaming teacups and a bundle of ginger root.
He looked surprisingly touched at her hospitality. “Thank you, Professor Trelawney. I will return your supplies when my insufferable student retrieves a new bundle of supplies from the gardens," he assured her.
She regarded him with a nervous smile. “S-Sybill… it would be ok to call me Sybill'', she muttered with her eyes fixed firmly to her teacup. His narrowed eyes widened only slightly as he nodded.
“I suppose it has been, what, twenty years? Perhaps the time has come to drop the formalities with my fellow alumnus and colleague. Right then… Severus if you will'', he nodded as he sipped the last of his tea. Sybill smiled as she looked down at her own empty teacup and could’t help but laugh.
“What? Do I have leaves on my nose?” he had endured too much teasing at the size of his beak. She reached to his face and wiped just a speck of cinnamon from his lip. If the gesture took him aback, he hid it. His expression remained as impassive as ever.
“No, my leaves tell me a dream will soon be realized, but I think I may have gotten the message a moment too late," she explained as she brought her hand back to her lap. She was surprised at her bold gesture of touching the lips from her dream. She peered into his cup and couldn’t hide the smile that stretched across her face.
“You see something amusing in my leaves, Sybill?” he inquired with a hint of disbelief.
“You’ll soon have a desire fulfilled," the words made her heart race as she spoke them. He stood to leave.
“Good news all around, then. Perhaps Slytherin will crush Hufflepuff in today’s match,” he guessed as he made his way to the door.
“Severus, before you go… you might want to take some extra peppermint sprigs with you. I predict you’ll find a student has helped themselves to your supplies," she offered. His eyes narrowed once more.
“No student of mine would be so foolish to steal from my dungeon. Though, I’ll keep your offer in mind should your prediction be correct," he added on his way out. Her eyes remained on the door as he closed it behind him.
“I’ll see you later then, Severus," she said aloud to herself with faith in her vision.
Her Divination classes went by in a slog all day as Professor Trelawney replayed her morning companionship and her dream in juxtaposition in her mind throughout the day. The last class of the day ended just before sunset and she was surprised to find there had still been no knock on her door. She feared that perhaps she had another failed vision or that Severus was simply uninterested in seeing her again that evening. Class was dismissed with a heavy sigh as she continued to stare at the door opening and closing as students filed out of her tower for the night.
She slunk into her bedroom and watered the peppermint sprigs in her window box. She was certain of her prediction as she saw it again when she touched the leaves of the plant. She snipped several stems and tied them in a white ribbon. The scent of the peppermint leaves remained on her skin as she changed out of her teaching robes. Sybill’s daily life did not call for her to have much need for many seductive pieces to her wardrobe, still she knew she looked her best in sapphire blue. Her dress was ten years out of style and was quite snug in comparison to the last time she wore it. Though after her fingertips made contact with his lips that morning, she had all the confidence she would need to simply deliver a bundle of leaves to a colleague in need.
She entered the empty potions classroom and called for him. He stepped out of the office adjacent to the empty classroom, it was as if the dungeon had its own dungeon. As a loner herself, she was almost envious of his secluded workspace.
“I didn’t care to admit it, Sybill, but I am down to one, single, solitary peppermint leaf. I am impressed, and now quite curious as to which of my desires may be fulfilled." A flicker of a smile crossed his face. It set off an explosion of feelings in the generally nervous Sybill Trelawney. She reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out the mint leaves with the white ribbon and smiled without looking up at him. Her eyes focused on his outstretched palm as she hesitated to place the mint leaves into his hand.
She closed her eyes as their hands made contact. She tried to tell herself that what she saw in his palm was not right. Reading palms had come so naturally to her and she had never doubted her talents, but what she saw broke her heart. His life-line appeared tragically short. There was a severe break in his heart-line that ended nearly three quarters into his life-line. The second segment, though faint, seemed to stretch far beyond his short life. Though her death predictions had been the topic of ridicule, she couldn’t deny herself the chance to make her move. With the leaves still between their palms, she laced her fingers with his.
The hand in hers froze, his keen eyes understanding immediately. Confusion, even panic flickered across his features. His thumb twitched...but he didn't pull away.
“Sybill,” he intoned.
She nearly trembled at his deep voice. From the depths of her deep-rooted yearning, she drew the courage to make her request. It came out as an unintelligible whisper.
His brow furrowed. “Pardon?”
She tried again. “S-say…”
From the darkness behind her eyelids, she heard him say, “Open your eyes.”
Her eyes opened quickly, magnified, as they always were, by the enormous lenses she had worn since they were students.
He didn’t flinch, as others had, at her intense gaze, grotesquely rotund behind her glasses. Instead, he locked eyes with her. “I could pull it from you."
She almost wanted him to. She’d never been on the receiving end of so accomplished a Legilimens.
He didn’t plumb her mind, however. “But I would rather hear you say it.”
She nodded, unable to break away from his stare, but desperately wishing to. “Will...will you call me Sybill again?” Her voice squeaked.
A smile, satisfied yet sad, played on his lips. Those very lips that she had so brazenly touched and now could not draw her gaze away from. “Very well, then.” Slowly, so very slowly, his lips parted. It was nearly a hiss, a languid lingering on the “S.” “Sybill."
This time she could not hide the shiver.
They stayed there for a moment. Then, “Is that all you wanted?”
Sybill thought for a moment about what she truly wanted when she made her way to the dungeon. With anyone else, she would have nodded politely and returned to her tower. She had heard of his talents and knew there was no way of keeping her true desires from him. Even if he weren’t a Legilimens, it would be obvious in her expression.
He saw it. She could tell by the change on his own face, the way he leaned in imperceptibly, a shallow breath passing through his still parted lips, his black eyes seeming to darken even more.
With a snap he withdrew his hand from hers. “I bid you good evening, then.” With that, he turned back into his chambers.
Before she realized what she was doing, her own hand darted forward and grasped his wrist. Instantly, he spun back to her, surprise and irritation on his face. Her heart kicked into a stuttered, high beat, but still she clung on.
His arm lifted reflexively, as if to shake her free, causing the sleeve of his robe to fall to his elbow. She gasped as the ink on his forearm came into view.
Her attempt at controlling her breath faltered as she took in the grotesque coils of the snake winding Darkly upon his skin.
“What are you doing,” he said in a whisper.
As if possessed by a courage from outside of her body, Sybill whispered in return, “I came to see if what I heard was true.”
He arched a thick eyebrow. “What have you heard?”
She squinted as the thoughts passed through her mind, knowing that he was well aware of the rumors regarding his many talents. All his talents. Her bottom lip raised to sit firmly between her teeth as she felt her face flush. “I’ve heard… Well, it’s been suggested…that you are an excellent host."
The twist of his mouth was nearly a sneer. “I can't say I entertain much."
A frown wrinkled her brow. Had she been mistaken? What an insult to such an esteemed colleague, and the head of a house, no less. She always felt her job to be tenuous, and here was another gaffe. Worry rose in her.
Until he said, “However...I have enjoyed being entertained.”
The sudden heat that flamed within her only made her more aware of how cold the dungeons were.
“May I come in?” Her voice was thin.
“At the risk of sounding inhospitable…” he began, “I’m not certain that would be wise.” He yanked his arm back once more. The strength of her grasp surprised them both, and all that moved was his sleeve further down to nearly his elbow.
The Mark was fully exposed now. Sybill could not tear her eyes away from the bald skull with its furious leer.
He caught her looking. “Does it frighten you?”
She flinched at the sound of his voice, tinged with bitterness. A former version of herself would have let go of his arm and fled, relying on yet another dream instead to fulfill her fantasy. Tonight was different as she realized she had been startled, but unafraid. She straightened her back as she lifted her eyes to his. “I have been frightened, Severus. I have been afraid of many things for a long time." She lifted her other hand to his arm and traced the jet-black emblem on his skin. “The only thing I have left to fear is regret."
He shivered as her finger touched his skin. A shadow clouded his eyes, the sadness so heavy it pushed against her.
“Yes,” he said softly. “That gives me nightmares as well.”
Where she should have felt a chill, a warmth spread through Sybill’s chest. She smiled slightly at the absurdity of the imposing figure before her being afraid of anything or having many regrets. For only a moment, she saw in him the same vulnerability she saw in the young Slytherin who had caught her eye all those years ago. She had never seen her timid nature as a flaw in her personality, but certainly had never seen it as a benefit. But now she realized it was the one thing that may tie them together. Perhaps he held much back, as well.
She removed her large-framed glasses, allowing her to focus on the prominent features of his face while smudging the mark on his arm out of sight. She inhaled deeply and turned her large blue eyes to him.
“Severus, I am afraid that I might regret…” she exhaled and found herself motivated, for once by desire rather than fear. She stood as tall as she could, let go of the fabric of her dress she had gripped at her side, dropped her voice, and stepped even closer to him. “I would regret if you didn’t let me in tonight.”