Defense Against the Dark Tea Leaves

A/N: So the concept of this long time lost story is still the same, but it’s been revised a little. I don’t think this was ever actually posted here, so I hope you all enjoy it.

“And don't forget your essays on vampires due next class,” said Sirius Black, one of four, as the children gathered their books, heading for the door of the large Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

“Make sure they're at least seven inches long!” Added Nymphadora Tonks, standing beside him, “And no parking lot gaps!” she hollered.

“Seven inches?” Remus Frowned. “Make it at least nine,” and he shook his head as Tonks’ hair turned orange. “They’ll not include all the important things if you leave it at just seven and you know it.” Raising his voice, he added. “Don’t skimp on the information about their weakness to silver, nine inches is just a minimum, meaning the least amount you can have!”

“And be sure to include an additional three inches for the counter-curse to bloodsucking,” chimed Mad-Eye Moody. A loud groan erupted from the sixth year Gryffindor DADA class, most of which had managed to make it out the door before hearing that additional piece of their assignment. Year after consecutive year, ever since Harry Potter's first year at Hogwarts, a teacher filling the position in question could not be expected to stay more than a year at best. But this year it was totally different, this year there were four of them and they were the “Defense League,” two former teachers and two highly trained specialists, putting together their knowledge to help train the young minds of Hogwarts students.

Harry rolled his eyes, one of the last students to leave the classroom. Hermione and Ron were just ahead of him in the corridor. “You know, I love Sirius dearly, but if he doesn't lighten up with that homework…” He glanced at his two best friends and smiled. “Oh well, I guess I'll have to talk to him again.”

“Harry!” Hermione chided. “You cannot take advantage of the fact that he’s your godfather. He’s trying to teach us valuable information.”

“Lighten up, Hermione. We learn enough valuable information in the class,” Ron said. “There’s no reason to be tied down to it all night.”

Harry rolled his eyes, sensing another heated argument about to arise between his two best friends. They’d been at it all week. “Nevermind that, you guys, we’re going to be late for Divinations.”

“You mean you’re going to be late for Divinations,” Hermione smiled simply.

“Good for you,” Harry said. Although it was far from his favorite subject, he did not have the luxury of taking a more difficult one in its place as Hermione did and was getting rather fed up of her constant reminder that she no longer had to deal with the loopy seer in the attic. “But we don’t want to be late.”

“We?” Ron quirked a brow at him. “Speak for yourself, mate. I’d love nothing more than to skip class all together and head out to the pitch for a nice long practice session. We do have a game on Saturday.” Hermione snorted, and Ron looked at her. “What?”

She rolled her eyes. “Funny as it is, you cannot just go skipping class, Ronald.” She said rather pointedly.

“I know,” he grumbled and rolled his eyes, waiting until her back was turned to him before sticking his tongue out at her. “Come on,” he said to Harry.

“What a bunch of nonsense, really,” Hermione said, walking with them as far as the corridor’s end. “I'm glad I don't have to deal with Professor Trelawney. The way you two rave about her, you'd think she was a crazy old lunatic who never came out of her little tea room in the attic!”

“She doesn't!” Ron and Harry exclaimed at the same time.

“Now that’s not true and you know it. She came down for the Christmas feast during our third year—”

“Yeah, and McGonagall almost scratched her ‘inner eye’ right out of her forehead!” Ron added. Harry stifled a chuckle. “Come on, Hermione, everyone knows she’s as batty as Snape’s hair is greasy.”

“That will be ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley, and a detention tomorrow evening.” Severus Snape sneered, swooping by them. He did not break his stride, didn’t even look at the redhead as he continued down the corridor.

“Well that was bloody convenient,” Ron muttered.

“Serves you right for teasing professors, Ron,” Hermione chided and then hoisted her backpack higher up onto her shoulder. “I’m off to the library.”

“Of course you are,” Ron rolled his eyes and then waved goodbye as she headed off down the corridor. “Divinations?” he asked, as if he had a choice.

“Yeah,” Harry said, though they didn’t even make it up the first step when Tonks clapped Harry on the back. “Ah!” he cried a bit surprised.

“Wotcher there, Harry, didn’t mean to scare you!” she chuckled.

“Constant vigilance!” Moody barked. “If you were paying attention you would have heard us coming!”

“Yes, especially the way you stump along, Peggy,” Sirius snorted. Moody lifted his pegged leg and pushed Sirius hard behind the knees. “Ow!” and he stumbled forward into Harry. “Sorry, Harry.”

“What did I tell you about calling me that?” Moody’s magical eye whizzed about inside its socket.

Remus frowned. “Shouldn’t you boys be headed to another class?”

“Divinations,” Harry groaned.

“Tough break there,” Tonks chuckled. Her hair changed from a flashy green and purple to long and flowing rivers of muddy brown. “I foresee…” she said, adapting her best Trelawney voice. With a scrunch of her nose her eyes were as wide as large saucers, though she lacked the glasses and trinkets for a proper impersonation. “…I foresee doom! Doom, Harry Potter! Doom, Ronald Weasley! Doom of a detention! DOOM!”

Both boys began to crack up laughing, and even Remus found it difficult to stifle a chuckle. Moody had already begun to stump off in the opposite direction, most assuredly having better things to do. “Give her a break, yes?” Sirius said. “I mean, yes she’s all bug eyes and what not, but she is trying to deal with you lot,” and he punched Harry playfully in the arm. “Off you go then?” He reached his hand out and patted Harry firmly on the chest, slipping a tiny piece of parchment into the front of his robe pocket.

“Right, later, Sirius,” he said and headed off up the steps with Ron just behind him. As he headed up the steps, he reached into his pocket and carefully unfolded the parchment. “Huh.”

“What?”

“It’s a note from Sirius.”

“I gathered that much.”

“He wants me to leave him the cloak in his office just after dinner.”

“Wonder what he wants the cloak for?”

“I don’t know, but he didn’t say.” Harry shrugged his shoulders. The rushed the rest of the way up various staircases, if you could call their apathetic trudge of a pace rushing. He was certain they were late by the time they’d pushed the trap door up and into the attic space, which more often than not, and today in particular, reminded him of a teashop.

A thick pink haze filled the room, and although their fellow classmates sat on various cushions around tables gazing into teacups, neither Harry nor Ron could see the professor. The boys breathed a sigh of relief, coughing on the heavy perfumed taste of the air. “Don’t see the loopy woman, somehow we’ve managed to make it here before her.” said Ron with a grin.

“Correction, Mr. Weasley…” the aloof and floating voice of Professor Trelawney met his ear from directly behind him. Both he and Harry spun around to see their professor pressing tea leaves against a shelf near the door. “Gentlemen, you are late. I know you would be, therefore I have prepared an assignment as a consequence of your tardy actions, which I foresaw.” She stopped speaking for a moment, pushing one of the many bangles back up on her arm as it slid down to her wrist. “I’ve already taken the liberty of deducting five house points from each of you. And you shall both report to me this evening at 7:00p.m. for detention, which I foresee you being late for, so I shall save myself the trouble and deduct an additional five points each now.”

Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil squealed and giggled from their cushions in the center of the room, gathered around the main table where Professor Trelawney’s teacup sat. The former of the two smirked in Ron’s direction but he just rolled his eyes. His attention was momentarily garnered back to the woman donned in glasses and enough trinkets to repurchase the island of Manhattan.

“Today, if you two gentlemen will kindly take your seats,” and she gestured to the only two cushions that remained free, the two opposite the giggling girls at the main table. “We will be discussing the difference between reading dry tea leaves, versus reading fresh, wet ones…”

“Bloody fantastic,” Ron muttered and sat down across from Lavender.

~*~

“I'm telling you! That was the longest, most boring Divinations class that I have ever sat through! It couldn't have been worse if Malfoy were in it with us!” complained Harry to Hermione at dinner. She sat between him and Ron, quietly eating her London broil as they recounted their horror stories from earlier that day.

“Don't say that, Harry! Things are always worse when Malfoy is around!” Ron smashed his spoon down into his mashed potatoes and ducked as a few bits flew across the table and hit Dean Thomas in the nose. “Oops, sorry ‘bout that,” he ducked again as Dean went to smack him.

“It honestly couldn’t have been all that bad,” Hermione said, politely taking a sip of her pumpkin juice. “I mean, after all, you two manage to survive History of Magic every week twice a week and even I find that to be a little boring.”

Harry didn’t know whether to gasp or to laugh. Hermione Granger, bookworm extraordinaire, all round super smart girl on a never ending quest for knowledge had just admitted that a class, where she was learning, was boring. He cleared his throat instead. “You don’t understand, Hermione. There were subtle differences between dried tea leaves and fresh, wet ones…” he rolled his eyes. “Honestly? They both predicted doom and gloom in my future, didn’t matter if they were dried, fresh and wet, or steam pressed by Trelawney herself.”

Hermione couldn’t help but chuckle at this. “I won’t continue to tell you how elated I am that Arithmancy is far more interesting, practical, an hell, even fun.”

Dinner continued to be very uneventful, with the exception of Nearly Headless Nick's grand entrance up through the pudding as he chased Peeves round the Hufflepuff table. Harry looked down at his watch and then back up to Ron, “We should get going, we've got detention in ten minutes.”

“What's the rush?” he said with a mouthful of pudding, “Trelawney said we were going to be late anyway, so let's give her predictions some merit for once in her life!” Various members of Gryffindor house started to giggle as both Ron and Harry stood up from the table. “Oh no! To our dooms we go!” Ron laughed heartily and led the way out of the Great Hall.

“Just a minute,” Harry said and began to rummage around in his rucksack. “I’ve got to take this to Sirius.”

“Don’t worry, his office is on the way,” Ron said and the two boys headed off in companionable silence. The hallway was deserted for the most part, except a small Ravenclaw third year, on his way back from the bathroom. “Wait here, Ron, I'll be right out,” he slipped his cloak over his head and disappeared into the DADA room. He hadn’t wanted Ron to come along in case he found Sirius waiting in his office, and Harry hoped that if he was alone, perhaps his godfather would divulge his need for use of the cloak.

But the office was empty, and a moment later, Harry slipped back into the corridor, no longer invisible. “Alright then, to doom, I mean detention.”

Both boys chuckled. “I hope he puts that thing to good use,” Ron said.

“Yeah me too. Like scaring Snape would be a good use in my book.” Ron nodded his head in agreement. “And all he’d have to do was slip it on, sneak down to the dungeons, come up behind the big, black bat, and say—”

“Boo.” hissed and icy voice from behind them. Two cold hands, one on each of the boys’ shoulders, clamped down and spun them around.

Ron began to scream. “Ah! It’s a ghost! It’s a goblin! It’s—” he froze, eyes wide staring at the tall, brooding man. “It’s Snape!” Harry tried to punch his friend in the arm but seemed to fail at getting his own arm to move. “Run!” Ron shouted, feeling his mind tell his muscles to move only nothing happened.

“Mr. Weasley...” his voice drawled in a most acidic tone, “Twenty points from Gryffindor. Now explain yourself quickly before I decided to make it thirty.”

“Professor, we're on our way to a detention with Professor Trelawney and I just remembered that I left my Defense book in the classroom and wanted to grab it on the way up there,” said Harry coolly, lying through his teeth.

The Potions Master sneered, knowing straight up that it was a lie, but not being able to prove it, he stepped aside. He had heard them muttering something about that damned cloak, but with two of the four men, who’d tried to send him to his doom with that bloody map and cloak as a part of their scheme, now teaching in the castle, he had little choice but to drop the argument. “Indeed. Then get to your detention before I assign you one of my own for being out in the corridor loitering! Ten more points from Gryffindor!”

“He can't do that! He—” Harry grabbed Ron's arm and took off down the hallway.

“Ron, shut up! You get us into more trouble, honestly you do!” The boys continued their long journey up to Trelawney's classroom, arriving at the trap door ten minutes past seven. It was locked.

“Excellent. If she’s not here, we don’t have detention. I’m going back to Gryffindor Tower to—” he halted mid-sentence, straining his ear against the door. “Do you— do you hear that, Harry?”

“Hear what?”

“Singing. I think she’s bloody singing!” Ron clapped both hands over his ears.

The trap door swung open and the pink haze seemed to waft down from above. “You’re late boys, as I said you would be…” her voice floated down from somewhere up inside. They rolled their eyes and slowly made their way up the ladder into the classroom. The pink haze was worse than normal, even thicker and if possible the scent of perfume hung to it ever heavier than before, almost reeking of over ripened fruit and nearly wilting flowers.

“Good evening...” she said as they shut the trapdoor. “I'm afraid that your detention will not be anything interesting, like pressing or drying tea leaves, rather something a bit more boring, if you will. You will help me finish cleaning.” Both boys grumbled and rolled their eyes as they watched their Divinations teacher sway her hips across the room and pick up two magical cleaning wands. “Here... these know exactly what to do, it should be rather simple. Just do what they point to and let me know as soon as you're finished.” Her voice was rather clipped, though her tone still aloof and somewhat mystical sounding. Somehow, Harry thought she sounded more level, as if she were almost normal.

“And where will you be?” asked Ron skeptically. Harry shot him a look, and then quickly remember that she wasn’t Snape. It was far less likely that she would deduct points for his housemate’s cheek, if she took notice of it at all. The redhead turned his eyes to the woman and just gazed at her for a moment. The only thought that came to mind was, ‘too many trinkets.’

“I…why you silly boy, if you had the proper handle on your inner eye…you would have foreseen that I have far more important things to attend to.” She paused, almost dramatically, gulping in a full breath of air before continuing. “My inner eye tells me that I will be receiving company shortly and I must prepare for it…” she placed the back of her hand against her forehead and sighed. “Now, do get to work.”

As soon as they boys turned their heads to survey the situation, Sibyl Trelawney disappeared through a tapestry on the opposite wall. “What on earth do you suppose all that was about?” Ron asked, and Harry shrugged his shoulders, pointing the wand up. It jerked toward the pillows that were covered in dust. He sighed and walked over to the stack of cushions. “I mean, you don't think she's actually expecting company do you, Harry?”

“Honestly, Ron?” he said, gazing up at the pillows with a look of defeat in his eyes. “I don’t. I don’t care either.” Waving the wand each of the pillows, tumbling one at a time, came down from their piles and landed near his feet. “Though it would be interesting if she thought she were expecting a gentleman caller!” Both boys found themselves clutched over their sides, doubled up in laughter. Harry was the first to break it, trying to stop his own chuckles as he fell back on one of the pillows. “Just listen!”

Ron's mouth fell shut as he heard running water and soft music, as well as smelled the scent of something other than the overripe, fruity pink haze. “Blimey,” he muttered and then began to laugh again. “You don’t think it’s possible, do you? Trelawney, a gentleman caller?” he paused for a moment and sunk down to one of the pillows, actually contemplating it. “No way, Harry. There is just no way. Trelawney?” He paused again and then closed his eyes, trying not to think about it. “Who?”

The other boy shrugged his shoulders. “Only one way to find out?” Ron stared at his mate as if he’d gone mad. “Don’t give me that look, it’s a Hermione look and it looks completely unnatural with red hair attached to it.” The running water was soon mingled with louder singing and Harry found himself inching toward the tapestry, Ron edging his way toward Harry. “Think we should—”

“No,” Ron seemed to go suddenly pale. “Even if she is expecting a gentleman caller, I do not want to see Professor Trelawney in the shower, or coming out of the shower, or at all, really.”

“True…” he turned a smirk, all too reminiscent of James to his best friend. “So we’re going in, right?” Ron closed his eyes, covered his ears and then nodded his head. “Splendid, just wish I had my map so we could see her in case she ends her shower early…”

“Yeah, maybe that will end our detention early.”

“Or land us in another one.” But before either could conjure another excuse to stay in the classroom, Harry had wandered through the tapestry, Ron close behind him. The boys found themselves standing in a very large living room of sorts that most definitely belonged to their Divinations teacher. Large pillows covered the floor and a hazy pink fog hung low around the room. There was hardly any lighting, a few candles here and there, and of course, a table or two with teacups set out on them.

“Wow. This is very interesting. It’s like being inside a freaky sort of nightmare, only it’s real.” Ron said gazing around the room. He could hear the running water coming from a door off to the side. “I bet that door leads to the bathroom, she’s in the shower still…” Had Hermione been with them, it would have been the perfect place for her to interject a comment about the way the boys always seemed to be stating the obvious, however, as she was presumably still in the library, the room remained blissfully comment free.

They found themselves slinking lose to the door, watching little rays of steam curl out from the seams of the doorframe. A loud click was heard from outside in the classroom, sharing the distinct sound of the trapdoor being closed into place. “Shit,” Ron hissed. “Where’s your invisibility cloak?”

“With Sirius!” he exclaimed, frantically searching the room for a place to hide.

“Quick! Over here!” Ron grabbed his arm, doing the only sensible thing he could think of, and dragged Harry behind a set of long velvety chartreuse drapes. It concealed them from view, but still enabled them a tiny peak at the woman’s living room. The water in the bathroom stopped completely. Her voice rang out from behind the closed door. “I hear you out there! Give me just a second! And please, love, tell my brats that they can back to their rooms,” her voice sounded nothing like it normally did, almost alive and bouncy now.

A deep voice responded. “Would do, love, but there's no one here.” Ron nearly gagged as Harry threw his hand in front of his mouth to keep himself from screaming. They watched as the bathroom door swung open and steam from within flowed out before a figure appeared in its wake. She wore only a pale pink bathrobe and her bouncy brown hair seemed almost normal, hanging straight down on her shoulders. Walking away from the bathroom, Sibyl Trelawney kicked the door shut, went over to the tapestry, and poked her head out into the classroom.

“Looks as if they’ve gone…” she sighed and closed the tapestry, “guess you can stay a little bit longer now…” a smirk came to her lips.

“But what about your detainees?”

“Forget about my lackadaisical sixth years…if they want to skip out of detention early, I’ll just take points off their homework. They fake it anyway.” She stepped back into her living room, pulling the figure in with her. “You will stay longer now, won’t you?” she teased.

Ron nearly gagged as one of their four DADA teachers entered the room. Harry almost fell over as he watched his godfather sit down on one of the many large pillows that scattered the floor. “Tell me, love…how did you manage to sneak your way up here?” Sibyl mused, taking a seat beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Must dreadful, trying to escape the pack…especially Lupin…”

“Remus isn’t all that bad,” he smirked. “Besides…it’s not all that hard, not when you’ve got the right connections…” his lips brushed against her forehead and she shifted closer to him.

“You mean it’s not all that hard when you’ve got your godson’s cloak.”

“Ah, so you can predict the future?” he teased and they both laughed. Sibyl lifted her head and pressed a feathery kiss against his lips. “Mm, love, you taste lovely tonight…” He winked, feeling her hands slip down the front of his robes. “Oh…” he closed his eyes, feeling her fingers begin to work at the buttons. “Yes, it always is a touch warm in here…”

She finished unbuttoning his robes and pushed them off his shoulders, rendering him topless. “You’re getting better at this,” she smirked and then lowered her lips to his collarbone. Less for me to take off…”

Gently tucking a finger under her chin he tilted her head up and met her lips with a kiss. “They'll be time for that later my little teacup…” he whispered in her ear, nibbling lightly on her earlobe. “You are looking quite warm as well…” both of his hands ran slowly up her bare arms. “It’s nice to see you without so many clanking beads all over your person…easier access, not getting in my way as they so often do…” he smiled as she leaned back into the pillows. “The room feels especially alive tonight. Have you been trying something new?”

“No, Sirius, why do you ask?” she chuckled, letting the lapels of the bathroom fall open, exposing her still wet breasts to his eyes. “Though I did have those Gryffindor brats clean the classroom with a quick clean wand... maybe some of the fumes escaped through the tapestry…” every word she spoke seemed to be filled with lust as she practically arched herself up toward him, beckoning him down with a come hither motion.

“Sibyl...” he whispered and slowly lowered his topless torso down over hers, pressing their bodies together. “Your eyes are sparkling so brightly tonight, I love it when they glow...”

“Hush.” Her lips met his and her fingers tangled into his hair, soft black locks tumbling over smooth skin. “You flatter me far beyond what is necessary...” Her head fell back further into another pillow and he pulled her up for a moment, pushing the scrap of fabric from her body, rendering her naked. She was often a bit self conscious about her body, but weeks of his nightly visits had broken her of that notion.

“Just trying to prove how much I appreciate you…” he whispered, suckling at her neck. “How much I like you…” and his lips trailed lower, placing several flutter light kisses against her heart. “How much I love you.”

Ron felt violently sick as his face turned greener than a giant troll boogie. Harry too felt as if his knees would collapse and he would hit the floor spewing up dinner. They continued to watch as their professors undressed each other, Sibyl’s hands having no trouble taking down Sirius’ trouser, both students feeling violently ill as they did. It was disgusting to watch in general, but especially from behind heavy velvet drapes.

“Sibyl, you look wonderful tonight,” he whispered softly staring down at her creamy naked body. “Your breasts are like beautiful flowers that bloom from the lively tree that is your body. And your eyes shine like bright stars in the night, your hair like a flowing waterfall that cascades down your neck and back, tumbling over your perfect shoulders. And your stomach, so flat and smooth…”

“Oh Sirius...” She moaned. “Such the poet…” again she found herself mewling in pleasure as his hands reached down to caress her breasts. “Really, my inner eye…” she was panting and gave out a squeak as he pinched her nipple. “Please…I don’t think…I can see…” her chest was rising and falling, excited at the simple touches. “Please… such actions are not appropriate for such audiences…”

His pulsing erection nudged against her thigh. For being the eccentric Divinations professor, she had a gorgeous body that was forever hidden behind her dowdy robes and gangly beads. Possessing a thin and lank figure, pale and creamy flesh, with small but perky breasts, curvaceous and proportional hips, long and slender legs, and soft and dainty feet, she was perfect. He was ready for her and she for him, as she pulled her arms around his strong and muscular back, all words about predictions and audiences forgotten.

“You know, ever since you've come back to teach, your figure has improved a great deal…” she whispered huskily. “What a man…” her breath caught in her throat as one hand swept between her thighs, feeling the slick moisture that was waiting there, all for him. “What did I do to deserve you?” She shifted under his weight as they melded down into the massive pillows that covered her floor.

“You are you Sibyl...” he panted, kissing her hungrily, burning with need. “And that’s enough for me…”

She smiled and kissed him deeply, her tongue slipping into his mouth quite gracefully. From behind the velvet drape, Ron closed his eyes tightly and chanted in his head, ‘think un-sexy thoughts, think un-sexy thoughts...’ But unfortunately the first thought that came to mind was Hermione wearing a sexy pink thong. He shuddered and shook his head trying to clear it. He quickly conjured up the mental image of Professor Snape dressed in a pink tutu waltzing around the great hall. He had to catch himself before bursting into laughter.

“The tea leaves...” she purred softly and Sirius reached over to a nearby table and grabbed a pouch of soft fragrant leaves, ripping it open and allowing their scent to fill the already heavy air as the dried bits fell down over them, little pieces falling into his hair and all over her exposed skin. “Ahh… chamomile... my favorite...” Sibyl said softly, licking her lips as he poured more of them over her body. His hands began to massage them into her skin, releasing the sensuous scent into her flesh. She moaned softly as his hands continued their ministrations, while his lips slid down and kissed her breasts.

“Oh, Sirius!” she cried as he nudged his erection at her opening. “Please... make me feel… do it now…” he smiled and kissed her lips harshly, forcing his length into her in one long penetrating thrust. She cried out loudly as he began to pump in and out of her. “Sirius! Sirius!” His name tumbled off her lips as he pounded into her, like a wild savage animal. Harry cringed from his hiding spot, trying desperately not to get turned on by this sudden turn of events, amidst his detention.

Her wet walls clamped down tightly on his erection as she spiraled over the edge, screaming his name. Just a few more strokes and he was there, careening along with her as he too fell from his climax back to earth. They laid together, trembling in each other's arms, bodies slick with sweat, hair matted to foreheads, breathing heavy and labored.

“That… my dear, was simply amazing…” he kissed her cheek softly as he rolled off her onto the large pillows. “I really must come up here more often, though it is a dreadfully long hike from the DADA room.” He smiled playfully at her and she returned his smile with a swift smack on the thigh.

“You are too much…” Sibyl sighed and looked at him, “But now my inner eye tells me that we should be heading for the bathroom… so that you can freshen up a bit before returning downstairs to meet with your crew for your Defense meeting.”

“I'd rather be late...” he frowned at the thought of leaving his divine beauty.

“My inner eye saw this...and I know exactly what you can tell them when they ask, and believe me they will. You must simply tell them that you were mastering a defense against another form of dark arts…”

“Oh really?” He snorted. “Yes, I can see that going over swimmingly with them, especially Moody…”

“I thought we were calling him Peggy?” she teased.

“We are.” He kissed her lips and reached for a tablecloth, rather more like a fancy blanket and covered them both with it, at least from the waist down. Harry and Ron had never been so grateful. “You still haven’t answered my question, Sibyl…Defense Against the Dark— what? Dark ways of seduction?” She giggled. “Oh, yes, let me tell them that, I’m sure that will make me being alright…”

She snorted and smiled. “No, silly, you were mastering defense against the dark tea leaves, because they are not yet done with you…” Pushing up against his chest she grabbed him and moved him onto his back. “This is just the beginning for you, love…” and her lips slid over his. Harry felt as if he couldn’t hold the vomit in any longer, but he would not give away their position. He closed his eyes, if his godfather had the stamina that he found himself with, they were in for a bumpy night.