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DamhsaÃ Naofa is DiamhaslaÃ	By : MrsSaruman Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 808 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Hundreds of expectant faces gazed
up at him. Well, not him in particular,
but at the table where he sat with the rest of the staff of Hogwarts. The Sorting had occurred much like every
year; the nervous first years were herded into the Great Hall, expecting
something horrible. The hat was placed
on their heads and they were sent to their houses to be met with ferocious
cheers and applause. His mind drifted
back as he remembered his own sorting.
He had faced it with no fear at all; his father had told him what to
expect. There was no doubt to what
house he would belong. Every member of
his family since the beginning of time had gone to Slytherin. It was a given. He dimly heard the Sorting Hat’s call of “Slytherin!” and
he applauded mechanically. It was a
ritual; since he was the head of the house he was expected to show support for
the incoming first years. However, he
wished he could be left to his thoughts at the moment.

He glanced
at the empty space next to him. So they
hadn’t found a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher yet. Well, that was obvious. The job was rumoured to be cursed, and who
would want a cursed job? But Dumbledore
had hinted at something, maybe there might be a candidate and that was why
Snape’s application had been turned down once again. Once again it had been the same old excuse: “Severus, you’re the
best Potions master this school has ever had.
We need you there.”

Snape
sighed. He was sick of the Potions
job. He wanted something new, a change
of scenery perhaps. He just felt so
unappreciated doing what he was doing now.
Given, all the students were scared stiff of him, which was partly his
own fault. He believed it was necessary
to appear intimidating in order to gain respect. If you showed too much of a sensitive side you would be taken
advantage of, and that was never a good situation. Maybe it was just the old Death Eater in him talking.

Dumbledore’s
voice cut through his reverie. “It
seems,” he said with a glint in his eye, “that our new Defense Against the Dark
Arts professor has been delayed. Maybe
Muggle traffic is slow today.”

This caused
quite a clamour among the students. Muggle
traffic? What was a Hogwarts professor
doing with Muggles? At that moment
there was a knock at the entrance to the Great Hall. Dumbledore smiled.
“That’s her now. Come in, my
dear, come in!”

The door
swung open and a figure was silhouetted between the frames. It stepped into the light of the Great Hall,
revealing a tall, thin woman clad in a black traveling cloak. Her face was hidden underneath the brim of a
black fedora hat. She swept up to the
staff table and settled herself in the seat next to Snape. She removed her fedora and smiled at the
assembly, nodding her head politely.

“This,”
said Dumbledore, “is our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, who I can
happily say was not appointed by the Ministry.” A few hearty chuckles issued from the crowd
at the memory of last year’s Delores Umbridge.
“If I may introduce Professor O’Flannery?”

A round of
cheers erupted from the students and Professor O’Flannery blushed and
smiled. Dumbledore beamed at her and
then turned back to the students. “Now,
I know you’re all very hungry, so let the feast begin!”

The
students began eating ravenously as the food appeared on the table, but Snape
began to scrutinize the woman sitting next to him. She wasn’t what you would call attractive; in fact up close she
looked rather plain. She was tall,
almost six feet, and horribly thin. Her
eyes were almond shaped but narrow, framed with black lashes much like
his. Her long nose was straight, except
for a tiny bump at the top where it had been broken long ago. Her lips were thin, although fairly well
shaped. Her black hair was shoulder
length, and fell about her head with a limp ease. Her teeth were large, not really large enough to be considered
horse teeth, but they were still quite prominent when she smiled. It was her hands, however, that drew
Severus. Each finger was unusually long
and ended in a perfectly shaped nail, painted a deep red. The hands themselves were pale and looked
soft, as if she was accustomed to a luxurious life. He noticed a tattoo of an oriental character on the first knuckle
of her left middle finger. As he
watched her right hand snaked out and she began to rub it, a definite sign of
nervousness.

The longer
Snape looked at her the more he felt he had seen her before. It wasn’t just her last name. It was her face, her body, her aura. He racked his brain, trying to find where he
had seen her before. Mentally he ticked
off names and faces, as well as events he had attended. Nothing.
Not a shadow. He scowled. What was it about her that seemed so damn
familiar? Maybe she had been in his
house when he was attending Hogwarts.

The feast
had begun to subside. Students had
stuffed themselves silly, and Snape could see sixth years Crabbe and Goyle
shoving cupcakes into the pockets of their robes for “safekeeping.” He heard the woman next to him chuckle
softly, shaking her head at the actions of the two delinquent students. “Poor cupcakes,” she muttered as she stood
and put her fedora back on her head.
She glanced in Dumbledore’s direction and seemed to get some kind of
recognition, for she followed him out of the hall and towards his chamber.

Snape was
about to head the opposite way heard his name called. He turned to see Professor Sinistra behind him. “Severus, Dumbledore was unable to find you
before the feast, so he told me to deliver this message when I saw you. There’s a staff meeting in Dumbledore’s chambers
tonight. I’m headed that way now; I
believe it starts in fifteen minutes.”

Snape
sighed. He didn’t want to go sit
through some staff meeting, but he could not ignore the headmaster’s
wishes. He spun on his heel and
followed Sinistra down a passageway until they reached the entrance of
Dumbledore’s chambers.

“Licorice
sticks!” said Sinistra, and the phoenix statue moved aside, allowing the two
men to pass. Dumbledore’s chambers were
roomy but cluttered, filled with all sorts of trinkets and wizarding
paraphernalia. Dumbledore was seated in
front of his fireplace, with the staff of Hogwarts gathered around him.

“Now,” he
began, “you all know what is going on in the world as of late. I would like to bid you to be extra careful
with your associations and be very leery of strangers. The agents of Voldemort have always been
creative in worming their way into our midst, and it is well known that
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would love to have full possession of this
school.” Dumbledore paused, glancing at
every person present before continuing.
“Now, since I have made myself clear, I would like to take this time to
present Miss Aislinn O’Flannery of Ireland to you. She has asked to take over the Dark Arts position this year due
to her own personal experience in dealing with Dark Wizards. She has worked as an Auror for about four
years and is by far one of the most talented witches to have ever lived.”

Aislinn
blushed furiously. “That’s quite an
overstatement, headmaster. I have
merely cultivated the talents I have.
There is much I cannot do.” Her
voice was clipped and she spoke slowly, as if trying to disguise an
accent.

Dumbledore
smiled at her. “Nevertheless, I have
called you here to discuss with you the growing threat of evil in our life. As you know, the dementors have left
Azkaban, allowing escape to be much easier.
We must be ever vigilant and constantly aware of our surroundings. That said I hope you have a wonderful
year. Now, I’m sure you’re all very
tired, so I give you leave to go to your rooms. However, will Aislinn and Severus remain here, please?”

As the
crowd dispersed Snape moved in closer to Dumbledore in order to hear his
words. O’Flannery seemed nervous,
shifting from foot to foot and rubbing her tattoo manically.

“Severus, I
have taken it upon myself to induct our Professor O’Flannery into the Order of
the Phoenix. She has many skills that
can be used there, and her…background will also aid us. She is an expert on Muggle theology and will
be our Muggle correspondent of sorts. I
have also told her of your position and she has expressed interest in aiding
you in your task.” Dumbledore paused,
gauging Snape’s reaction.

“Headmaster,
I hardly need any help in my duties.”
Snape shook his head, but Aislinn stepped forward.

“Do you
know who I am, Severus Snape?” she asked.

Snape
sneered at her. “You are Aislinn
O’Flannery. That I know. You’re Irish and self-assured. I figure that’s all I need to
know.” Snape looked up at her. There was cold fury in her eyes, and
something that looked like pride. She
opened her mouth to say something, but Dumbeldore cut her off.

“You two
must learn to work together. Or at
least be civil to each other. That’s
all I have to say. Now go get some
sleep.” With that he waved his hand as
if to dismiss them.

Aislinn
turned on her heel, putting her fedora on her head in the same movement. She stalked out of the room, not turning to
look at Snape. She exited Dumbledore’s
rooms quickly and turned to the left, disappearing from Snape’s view just as he
entered the corridor. Snape shook his
head. This would be fun. Working with a temperamental and fiery woman
was just what he had always wanted to do.

*

She took a
step towards him, angered by his apparent lack of interest in her aid. “Do you know who I am, Severus Snape?” she
asked, hoping to sound intimidating.

His answer
only furthered angered her. “You are
Aislinn O’Flannery. That I know. You’re Irish and self-assured. I figure that’s all I need to
know.” And then he sneered at her, a
most contemptuous gesture.

As she
opened her mouth to retort Dumbledore cut her off with an admonition to get
along. How was it possible to
cooperate with a pompous and self absorbed prick, she thought angrily as
she left Dumbledore’s chambers in a huff.
She had come to Hogwarts in a good mood, hoping to serve and aid in what
she considered to be a great worthwhile cause.
Instead she had been met with agitation and doubt. She if anyone should be qualified to
work undercover!

But doubts
began to cloud her mind. Would anyone
remember her if she took the job? Would
people recognize her name, her face?
Would they care? She
sighed. It was better not to think
about it. It would only make her more
nervous and angry. Anger was almost second
nature to her, and anger was definitely what she was feeling now. She couldn’t believe the nerve of
that Snape, or whatever his name was.
He didn’t even know her, and yet he was making assumptions.

She passed
a group of students in the hall and checked her pocket watch. “Shouldn’t you be in your dorms?” she asked.

The
students shifted uncomfortable and Aislinn smiled. “Ah, I understand.
Prowling about?” She watched as
the students shook their heads. “Are
you first years?” They nodded. Predictable. “You’re obviously lost.
Which room are you looking for?” she asked.

“Slytherin,”
said a small boy.

Aislinn
rubbed her chin thoughtfully.
“Slytherin. I believe Slytherin
is…that way.” She pointed left down the
corridor and they hurried off, not even bothering to thank her. Typical Slytherins she thought as she
shook her head and smiled. She herself
had been in Slytherin, but had never really felt she related. She would have much rather been in
Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, but given her background and family name, there was no
other option.

Aislinn
pulled her traveling cloak tighter around her shoulders. Although a fading hint of summer still hung
in the air one could feel the encroaching winter in the breeze. September would fade in October, October
would slide in November, and as the months passed a sense of time would be
lost. Before she knew it, the end of
the year would be here and who knows if she’d ever return? Dumbledore had expressed his wishes that she
stay, but it all depended on the nature of the war being fought. She might have to run if certain Death
Eaters once again showed their faces.

She began
to hum the snatch of a song as she turned down another corridor. Now where did Dumbledore say her room
was? Near the north tower, close to the
classroom… She rubbed her chin
thoughtfully as she eyed a doorway.
That had to be it. She opened
the door slowly, expecting a dusty closet or an unused classroom. However, it was a bedroom, and a fabulous
one at that. The room was immense;
Aislinn gazed up at the ceiling but yet unable to see it. Instead she allowed her eyes to wander down
the burgundy drapes covering the windows to the stone floor, covered with a
rich oriental carpet in shades of cobalt and sienna. In front of the fireplace sat a mahogany table and a wide couch,
perfect for late night relaxation and reading.
She gasped in delight as she saw the bed. It was a girl’s dream, but yet possessed an understated and adult
elegance. It was a vast four-poster
with crimson drapes hanging it. The
coverlet was also a matching red and looked suspiciously like velvet. Her trunk lay at the foot of it, giving an
air of home to this magnificent room.

Aislinn
grinned and ran full tilt at the bed.
She launched herself into the air five feet from it and catapulted
through the air and onto the bed. She
laughed like a child as her body bounced up and down on the mattress. She was happy to finally be alone and out of
sight where she could relax and unwind.
She climbed off the bed and opened her trunk, rooting through it until
she found a zippered bag. She carried
it into the bathroom and drew warm water into the claw foot tub. This has such a wonderful ambiance,
she thought as she sunk into the bath. I’m
expecting to wake up and find myself back in my apartment with rooms to clean
and things to do.

She sighed
and dunked her whole head underwater.
Her black hair floated on the surface like some kind of seaweed as she
let out her breath in a stream of bubbles.
It would be so easy to die like this.
They would find me in the morning, naked and limp with my head still
beneath the surface. It would be such
an anticlimactic end to such a tumultuous life. She once again surfaced, drawing air into her lungs and smoothing
the wet hair off of her forehead. She
couldn’t die now. There was a war
on. She was needed.

After
toweling off she wrapped the wet towel around her body and went back out to her
trunk. A bit more searching yielded a
silk chemise and a long satin dressing robe, which she hung over the arm of a
chair. The chemise was slipped on and
the towel dropped to the floor as she threw back the drapes to reveal thick
glass windows that opened outward into the cool night air. She gazed out over the battlements and
across the lake, watching the twinkling stars reflect on the water. Absolutely beautiful. She sighed and turned from the window,
rubbing her temples. She needed sleep,
and time to think.

As she sunk
into her bed she reflected on the years she herself had spent at Hogwarts. It couldn’t be said that they were
pleasant; in fact they had been very trying.
She had been a good student, but her family life had put great amounts
of strain on her. She never really had
many friends. She was too afraid to let
anyone into her life, lest they find out about her home life, and her
background. It didn’t help she was put
into Slytherin and despised by the rest of the school. Her fellow housemates hated her, too. She did not hate Muggle-borns; in fact she
found them fascinating. They, however,
avoided her, and so she passed her school years with only a few girls to keep
her company.

It felt odd
to be back here. The castle hadn’t
changed at all, and although there was new faces it all seemed the same. McGonnegal was still the head of Gryffindor,
Flitwick was still teaching charms, and Dumbledore was still the best
headmaster the school had ever had. She
remembered Sinistra from his boyhood days; he was three years older than she
was and teased her mercilessly. He had been
a Ravenclaw, and had been quite sure of himself. She wondered if he had changed any. Good old Hagrid was still there too. She smiled as she remembered the afternoons she spent with
Hagrid. He taught her much about the
forest and its inhabitants, and she always enjoyed her evening cup of tea she
had with him. In fact she had called
him “Uncle Hagrid” for the longest time.
It would be very hard to see him as an equal and a teacher instead of
her girlhood friend.

Presently
her mind returned to Snape and his pompous answer to her challenge
tonight. It would be hard to work with
him, but she would make it work. A
battle of wills was in store. There was
no doubt in her mind whose would win out.

*

“It was
her! I swear it was her!” Ron gushed as
he sat on his bed.

Harry shook
his head. “I just don’t know, Ron. Her eyes were different, and there was just
something about her face. There wasn’t
enough emotion there to be her. Plus,
she’s a Hogwarts teacher! She wouldn’t
be singing at a club!”

“Harry, she
was all covered up with that cloak of hers.
And maybe she doesn’t exude anger on a daily basis, did you ever think
about that?” He paused, as if
considering the situation. “We’ve had
weirder stuff go on here. Look at
Lupin! If Dumbledore would hire a
werewolf, I don’t think he’d have any qualms about hiring a club singer, or
even a stripper for that matter.” Ron
set his jaw; obviously convinced it was the elusive guitarist they had seen
that night at the club.

Harry
smiled at his stubborn friend. “Doesn’t
really matter anyway. She’s not Delores
Umbridge, and for that I’m thankful.
She seemed sane and capable enough, and she was an Auror. Maybe we could talk to her about that.”

It did
present quite an opportunity. It was
what Harry wanted to do more than anything in the world, and now a source had
presented itself to him. In the past
there had always been Tonks, but she was never really around much. He would be seeing this ex-Auror every day
for the next nine months; he would have sufficient time to broach the subject
with her. He grinned broadly. She seemed nice enough. She looked young and had a warm smile. The last name was familiar as well. He could remember hearing it before, and
rather recently. Maybe it was something
in conjunction with the Order. It
seemed there were many connections he didn’t’ know about; she might very easily
be one of them. He wondered what house
she had been in. She seemed like a
Ravenclaw; there was an intelligence emanating from her. Not a Slytherin. She didn’t have that air of superiority and haughtiness that most
of them had.

Harry
settled back onto the sheets. Lately he
had been able to pick up emotions of people surrounding him, and sometimes even
something of their thoughts. It
frightened and intimidated him. He
didn’t want to be bound with this gift.
Hermione had told him to go to Dumbledore, but he didn’t feel the need
to bother the headmaster with such a trivial problem. It’s easy to pick up the feelings of others when they’re shooting
it at you, he thought as a comfort to himself. Sometimes the thoughts bothered him. In certain situations he could feel other’s annoyance, and even
their fear. Harry worried this
condition would progress until he would become overwhelmed with emotion, be
completely overtaken by the feelings of those around him. Ron had laughed and told him to not be so
damned silly. Hermione only stressed
the need to seek aid. He dared not tell
anyone else; most people already thought he was crazy. He didn’t need any aid in boosting that
image.

He turned
over on his side hoping sleep would come quickly. His nightmares had lessened after the adventure at the Ministry
of Magic, although they would spring up unannounced sometimes. It was times like those he wished he could
have continued his Occlumency lessons, but Snape wouldn’t be agreeable. Not after what happened last year. Maybe the Auror knew how to do it. He made a sleepy mental note to check with
her tomorrow. There had to some skill
she could impart on him.

*

Snape sat in front of his empty fire grate, cursing the
fates that made him a teacher. He had
promise. He could have been an Auror,
or maybe even Minister of Magic. But a
teacher at Hogwarts? He had never liked
children. Yet now they surrounded
him. He was expected to be kind, or at
least civil to them and show each of them patience. That was something he had never possessed.

He looked
behind him at a stack of papers on a desk.
Lesson plans. It seemed his life
was a stack of papers and regrets.
Could he ever manage to escape this sense of depreciation? Or was he doomed to second-guess himself
until the end of time? So many
questions yet no answers. Life was
never fair.

*

Aislinn
O’Flannery was deep in slumber, watching tropical fish swim in an aquarium that
existed only in her head. They had
never had fish for pets at her home, only fish to eat. She had a beta for a while when she lived in
apartments, but her cat had eaten him.
So much for pet fish.

The dream
changed. The aquarium faded into a dank
hallway that she recognized as the tunnel underneath her house. She began walking into the darkness, feeling
her way along the walls. They felt damp
underneath her touch; the years of cold and dew had taken their toll on the
stones. Suddenly a harsh scream rent
the air and Aislinn sat bolt upright in her bed. Silence. She looked
around her, still believing she was in her own bed in Ireland. It was only after a few moments thought that
she remembered where she was: Her own chamber at Hogwarts. The source of the scream had come from the
window, where a majestic golden eagle was perched. He turned a wary eye to her and then swiveled his head to
continue watching the night. Aislinn
sighed and once again lay down, drifting to sleep in a moment.
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DamhsaÃ­ Naofa is DiamhaslaÃ­

DamhsaÃ Naofa is DiamhaslaÃ