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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.

Chapter List
- 4
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“As you know, your potions have
aged a good month and three days, so I trust we can continue with our
lesson.” Snape stood before his class,
arms akimbo. “The next step is quite
simple. In your groups, I want each of
you to take a hair of one of the other members. For example,” Snape paused, looking around the classroom. “For example, Malfoy will take one of
Goyle’s hairs, Goyle will take one of Crabbe’s, and Crabbe will take one of
Malfoy’s. I trust that is not so
difficult?” Snape asked with a raised eyebrow, almost daring anyone to
object. No sound came from the
assembled students. “Good. Now, once that simple task is completed, you
will put the hair into the glass in front of you. Fill the glass half full of the potion, and drink.” Another pause. “I trust that even a undertaking as simple as that will be
bungled by some of you.” His gaze took
in Ron Weasely and Harry Potter, skipping over Hermione Granger. “I warn you it tastes nasty, so be prepared. It’s best if you toss it down your throat as
quickly as possible.”

Goyle
chortled. “Like taking a shot?” he
asked.

Snape
glowered at him. “Much like taking a
shot, Mister Goyle. If you paid enough
attention to your schoolwork as you do to drinking, you might actually have a
decent grade in this class.” Goyle
promptly shut up.

“Now,
begin.”

Padma Patil
was the next one to raise her hand. “So
you mean we actually have to drink the hair?” she asked with a disgusted
look on her face.

Snape
smiled a thin-lipped smile. “Yes, Miss
Patil. It’s hard to believe you have
such an aversion to drinking hair when last week I caught you with your tongue
in Mister Weasely’s mouth. The human
mouth is far more disgusting than hair is, you understand.”

Padma went
bright red and yanked a single hair out of her head. Ron looked ashamed as well.
Snape smiled inwardly. He was
quite proud of his ability to completely cow students by just looking at them
and cocking an eyebrow. It took skill,
and he had perfected it to a tee.

As he
walked around the classroom his thoughts wandered. He had found out a good many things about his colleague that
morning, and he was now more than sure of her allegiance to Voldemort. However, there could be no formal
denunciation without hard proof, and he knew just how to get that. He was distracted from his thoughts by a
raised hand. “Yes, Miss Granger.”

“Professor,
what would happen if you accidentally used an animal hair instead of a human
hair?”

Snape put
his thumb to his lips as if thinking.
“It would be a very serious mistake on your part if you were to do
so. Polyjuice Potion is only to be used
with things certified to come from a human being. Although it would change you into the outward form of an animal,
the transformation will not fade within the allotted hour. Another more difficult potion must be brewed
in order to counteract the animal DNA.
Isn’t that true, Miss Granger?”

Hermione
shrugged. “I don’t know, Professor.”

Snape
nodded once. “Now, on the count of
three, I want you all the drink. To
ease your frustrations about transforming, I have taken the liberty of…borrowing
some of Professor Sinistra’s hair.”
Snape strode back to his desk and took a glass off of it. “It is already in the glass.” His next stop was at Harry, Ron, and
Hermione’s cauldron. He ladled the
glass half full of the sickly-looking potion and swirled it around. The students followed in his example.

Snape took
a deep breath. “One.” Everyone seemed to be holding their
breath. “Two.” Dean Thomas swallowed deeply; Snape could
see unease written over his features.
“Three.” Snape tossed the
brownish liquid to the back of his throat like he was taking a shot of
alcohol. He swallowed once and
grimaced. One could never become
accustomed to the taste. It was like
drinking sewage. All around him
students groaned, grimaced, or held their stomachs trying not to vomit. Seamus Finnegan was at the sink in the back,
hanging his head over the rim.

One by one,
the students began to transform into one another. Snape could feel himself shortening by a good six inches. His hair shortened, becoming close cropped
and brown. His robes felt three sizes
too long. Snape shook his head
quickly. No matter how many times he
had used Polyjuice, he could never fully get used to the sensations that came
with it. He knew he was the same
inside; his voice and thoughts were his own, but the completely different
outward appearance always startled him.

All the
students had seemed to finish their transformation as well. Many of them gazed at each other in
astonished shock. “I-I’m a boy,” he
heard Hermione Granger say. However,
Hermione now looked like Harry.

“Perfect,”
Snape heard himself say. It had gone
over without a hitch. Normally he had
someone turning into an animal, or sicking up all over themselves. One by one each head turned to face
him. “As you can see, you are still
yourself inwardly. Your voices are the
same, as Miss Granger has just proven.
A whole other potion must be brewed if you want to change your voice,
but it is quite difficult and will not be attempted until your seventh year.” He could see Goyle shaking his head in
apparent disbelief. At least he thought
it was Goyle. It looked like Crabbe;
for all he knew it could be Malfoy.

“Now, if
you think you can pull off a prank of some sort using these ingredients, let me
warn you I have everything under lock and key.
After a theft five years ago I have also taken to putting wards on my
supplies, most of which are very nasty.”
He took a moment to reflect on one particular one that would make anyone
who touched the cabinet except him break out in an uncomfortable rash all over
their face. “Also, to buy them, you
have to be over eighteen, thus a full wizard.”
He grinned smugly. “So I believe
all of you are out of luck.” He checked
the watch on his wrist, noting the time.

“I want
twelve inches on the steps used to make a Polyjuice potion, as well as the
effects and drawbacks. You will all
change back in about forty-five minutes.
Clean your cauldrons and stay quiet until the bell rings.” A rush of students to the sink made him shout
his next words: “I want this classroom as clean as when you came in, or I will
take fifty points from both houses!” He
would really do no such thing; it was just a threat. He had no qualms about deducting so much from Gryffindor, but
taking fifty points away from Slytherin, his own house, was another thing
entirely.

He walked
back to his desk, cursing the too-long robe.
He sat down and pulled out a quill pen and a bottle of red ink. Back to grading. Most of the students had improved in their homework, but a few
had actually gone downhill. Malfoy and
his cronies were three of the six or seven who were a centimeter close to being
kicked out of his class. Granger, as usual,
was making the highest marks, followed, surprisingly, by Ron Weasely. Obviously the boy had taken his threat at
the beginning of the year seriously.
Potter was in the top half, although Snape would never admit it out
loud. Anything that came even close to
praising the boy would never come out of his mouth. Not after what happened last year with the pensieve. Snape would find it difficult to ever trust
the boy again. Potter felt he was above
the rules; things must be bent for him.
Snape felt that one of his personal missions in life was to bring James
Potter’s son into the real world and deflate the child’s big head.

He let his
thoughts turn away from Harry Potter, who was vigorously scrubbing his
cauldron, and flow to something more pressing.
Aislinn O’Flannery, or O’Flannabhra, was a problem that needed to be
dealt with immediately. It had come as
a shock to him to find out who her parents were; he had met Alastair O’Flannery
years ago the day after he had taken the Dark Mark. Alastair had been Voldemort’s right hand, or close enough. Alastair had been dead a good sixteen years;
he had been killed in one of the last battles before Voldemort fell. Aislinn’s mother, Bean Mhi
Shaughnessy-O’Flannery, was currently imprisoned in Azkaban along with
Aislinn’s older brother Richard. Almost
every member of her family, except for a few cousins in Dublin, had been Death
Eaters at one point or another. Severus
remembered a close companion, Will Murphy, who had taken the Dark Mark the same
night Severus did. Sean had died three
years later, in a skirmish between Aurors and Death Eaters. It was only today he learned that Sean had
been Aislinn’s second cousin.

A bell cut
through his reverie. His dark eyes
scanned the classroom as students grabbed their bags and hurried out. Most had begun to change into themselves
again; Weasely’s telltale red hair graced Harry’s swiftly changing face. Snape chuckled evilly at the thought of
sending these transforming students into O’Flannery’s Defense class. He hoped she would be confused, even better
if she was angry. He had been hoping
for a confrontation for a few weeks now.
He wanted to get her flustered, he wanted to see if she would admit
anything if her anger made her lose control.
He had found himself surreptitiously studying her at meals, watching her
face for any expression. If only he
could somehow see her arm…

He looked
up to see timid first year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws taking their seats. Fear was in their eyes. He wanted to cackle. Today, everything seemed to be going all
right.

*

A large smile spread across Aislinn’s
face as she read the letter one last time.
Yankee Doodle had done his job well, although the letter he brought back
with him was poorly timed. So he’s
coming back from Spain sooner than I thought. He should be arriving a bit before dinner, then. Aislinn wanted to dance. Finally, someone to talk to, she
thought as her grin widened, if that was at all possible. She put the letter on top of a pile of
papers and put them all underneath her arm.
A bit of grading would pass the time before her friend got here, if she
could keep her mind on the task at hand.

She sashayed down the hallway,
quietly humming a tune to a song she had been working on. She fairly jumped up the stairs, gripping
the sheaf of papers under her arm tightly.
It would not help to lose them all on the stairs. When she reached her door, she snapped her
fingers, removing wards, and executed a neat turn before turning the
handle. A blast of freezing air hit her
in the face. The window was wide open;
Yankee Doodle was perched on the back of her chair, watching her with his huge
golden eyes. Aislinn waved to him, and
he clacked his beak in return. She laid
the papers on her desk and searched around for a red pen. She cursed silently when she failed to find
one. I must have left it back in the
classroom, she thought, not wanting to climb down the stairs again. She didn’t think using a Summoning spell
would work either; she would end up with half the pens in the school piling up
in front of her door. She grinned. That might be fun to try sometime.

She closed the door behind her,
not bothering to reset wards. She was
only going to be gone for a few minutes; not enough time for anyone to pull a
prank. Yankee was fiercely protective;
he would probably dive at anyone that came in the room except her. Her feet slapped the stones as she ran down
the hallway and took the stairs two at a time.
She arrived in front of her classroom, fairly breathless, and leaned
against the door a minute before removing its wards and stepping inside. Nothing was out of order, and her red pen
was on her desk, where she had left it.
Aislinn smiled to herself; her inner child was always forgetting
things.

She continued humming her song as
she returned to her room, both pen and ink in her hand. She stopped short when she saw her door
open. The song was driven from her mind
as she flattened herself against a wall, wand ready in her other hand to blast
whoever it was into last week. She
steeled herself for an attack as she inched along. I can do this. Student
or not, I’ll just stun them… She
jumped in front of the door, wand ready to curse. Suddenly, her wand arm dropped to her side. “So.”

“So,” came the reply. The man sat at the desk, his worn robes
hanging open exposing black trousers and a collared shirt. He looked young, but his light brown hair
was streaked with gray. He smirked at
her. “Dumbledore pointed me the right
way, and I figured I could just come in.”

Aislinn frowned at Yankee Doodle,
who was preening his feathers. “Good
for nothing bird,” she muttered. She
turned her gaze back to the man in her chair.
A smile lit up his face and she smiled back. “You always assume, Remus.
What if I had a ward of some sort planted?”

He rose. “I knew you wouldn’t.” He
was about six feet tall; Aislinn could look him right in the eye. “I know you well, Ashy, in case you’ve
forgotten.”

Aislinn grimaced. “If you call me ‘Ashy’ again, Moony, I fear
I will have to curse you, and badly.”
She grinned, and embraced him tightly.
“I missed you,” she murmured into his ear.

“Every day without speaking to you
was torture,” whispered Remus, and kissed her cheek. Aislinn burst out in laughter, her whole body shaking against
that of her friend’s.

“Liar,” she muttered with a smile
on her face. “You know as good as I do
that every moment you spent away from me was a breath of fresh air. No doubt you were going out on dates every
night with those sexy Spaniards.”

Remus Lupin shook his head. “Hardly.
You see, I was there on business.
I spent most of my time not around beautiful people, but around
wizard bureaucrats from the Ministry. I
wish I had your skill for languages.”

Aislinn shrugged and said, “You
know, it’s never too late to learn.”
She released Remus and turned to the bed. “I’d offer you a place to sit, but the bed seems to be taken
over, as does the chair.” She intimated
the lump in the middle of the bed sheets, and Lupin smiled. Yankee Doodle, who was perched on the back
of her chair, screeched as if to draw attention back to him. Aislinn waved him quiet with a dismissive
gesture as she snuck up to the bed, padding on silent feet. She raised her arms high over her head, and
with a sudden shriek she brought them down on either side of the mysterious blob
in the bed.

The lump shot up the bed, towards
the headboard, and out from underneath the comforter. Aislinn stepped back, arms akimbo, and Remus smiled. “You still have that good-for-nothing cat, I
see,” he said. The cat in question
stood on Aislinn’s pillow, fur standing on end.

“It’s me, Bo,” Aislinn said and sat down on the edge of her
bed. She was joined by Lupin, and the
cat curled up in her lap. “What’s the
word from the Spanish Ministry?”

Lupin shook his head. “No good news. Minister Ortega seems to think Voldemort’s return is some kind of
elaborate fabrication planned by Death Eaters.
He’s refused aid until we have ‘concrete proof.’ That’s the way he put it. As if we’re fucking overreacting.”

Aislinn reached out and touched
his face. “Calm down, dear. He’s not going to change his decision just
because you fret about it.”

“God, Aislinn, will you please
drop that hideous fake accent,” Lupin grimaced.

“Fine. If y’ wanted me t’ drop it, y’ could’ve jest asked,” Aislinn
responded, waving her hand in a halfhearted gesture of agitation. Lupin shrugged, and reached out to stroke
the cat still in his friend’s lap.

“How did he ever survive?” Lupin
asked, underneath his breath.

Aislinn looked at him for a
moment; a considering gaze. “Because ‘e
didn’t give up, Remus. We never give up.”

Remus Lupin raised his eyes and
gazed right into Aislinn’s. “Keep
drawing breath, I guess.” He sighed,
remarking, “I just don’t know how you were able to do it. Sometimes I can barely live with my own
actions, let alone those of my family.”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “By
the way, Albus wants to talk to you about something. After that, you have to sing me a song, or else.”

“Then yeer comin’ wit’ me, old
man. If I have t’ play y’ a song, y’
can at least keep me company while th’ ‘eadmaster is asking whatever ‘e’s
asking.”

Remus shrugged, and got to his
feet. Aislinn pushed the cat off her
lap, and took her friend’s proffered hand.
She muttered a thank you, and held the door open for Remus, sealing
wards behind him with a waving of her fingers and two swift snaps. She began singing a song underneath her
breath as she walked the corridors, Lupin close behind her.

“Do ye miss Sirius Black?” she
asked suddenly, and Remus stumbled.

“Aislinn, that’s a stupid question
if I ever heard one. He was one of my
best friends, Aislinn. If you were to
lose, say, Fionnuala, wouldn’t you feel a giant hole in your heart?” Remus shook his head. “I can’t believe you even asked that
question.”

“Don’t y’ be thinkin’ me stupid,
Remus. I’ve lost more than ye’ve ever
imagined.”

“I forget Aislinn.
It’s hard to remember all the shit you’ve been through, believe
me.” Remus gave her a grin, and slid
his arm around her shoulders as they passed into Dumbledore’s chambers.

Albus Dumbledore was sitting in an
overstuffed chair, gazing over his spectacles at Aislinn and Remus as they
entered. His face lit up in a
smile. “Both of you, please, sit. It’s so wonderful to have you back, Remus,
if only for a short time. Aislinn,
dear, I have something to ask of you.
As you have stated to me previously, in your work as an Auror you were
trained in the skill of Occlumency. One
of our students needs that skill, and badly.
I believe you might know him?”

Aislinn fixed Albus with a
penetrating gaze. Her false accent
slipped into place as she addressed her superior. “Just who is this student, if I may inquire, Headmaster?”

Albus smiled. “He’s a sixth year Defense student. His name is Harry Potter.” He winked at Remus, who shook his head
slightly.

“Harry Potter?” asked Aislinn,
confused. “I can understand why, but
why choose me?”

Dumbledore sighed. “He was originally being taught by Severus,
but their relationship is not what I would call friendly. There was a breach in trust and Severus
vowed to never teach young Mr. Potter again.
That is why I am asking you, Miss O’Flannery. If I had anyone else, I would go you them first. I know you have many unsavory memories you
don’t want to relive, but this boy needs the protection Occlumency can give
him.”

Professor O’Flannery sighed. “He does have detention tonight with
me, as he does for the rest of the week.
It would be a good of time as any to start the lessons.” Remus Lupin squeezed her hand, and Aislinn
glanced at him quickly, flashing a smile.

“If I may inquire, Remus, will you
be staying for dinner?” Albus asked.

Lupin nodded. “I believe I will be, Headmaster. And I need to inquire of you as well. Will the Order be meeting tonight?” When Albus nodded, Lupin continued. “Here, or in London?”

Albus gestured with a finger. “Here, my good sir. I have no desire to go to London tonight;
it’s supposed to rain, and Heaven knows what the damp does to my joints.” Dumbledore beamed at both of them. “Thank you both very much, especially you,
Aislinn. I hope it’s no inconvenience.”

Aislinn flashed a smile, but
inside her mind rebelled. She slipped
her arm around Lupin, and steeled herself for her lesson later that night.

*

Harry
waited outside the door to Professor O’Flannery’s classroom, preparing himself
for the obvious long night ahead of him.
He gave himself a shake, and knocked on the door. It opened automatically, and Harry stepped
inside. Aislinn was silhouetted against
a window, her arms crossed over her chest.
Her school robes had been discarded, tossed over a chair as though it
was refuse. She rubbed her arms as
though she was cold, although Harry found it stifling in the room. “Professor?” he asked timidly.

She turned,
fixing Harry with a cold stare. “I see
you decided to come after all.” Her
voice was cold. “You’re late. I should dock points for that, but I’m not
in mood. Instead, you will just have to
work extra hard tonight, won’t you?”
Her tone of voice left no room for discussion. Harry nodded, and she continued swiftly. “I have been asked to teach you something
which, if I am not wrong, you had begun last year. Professor Snape has sworn to never teach you in it again, so the
torch has been passed to me.” She
intimated a seat. “Sit,” she
ordered.

Harry
followed her finger, and noticed a large bowl-like thing sitting on the middle
of the desk. His heart seemed to skip a
beat. It was the pensieve. That meant
only one thing: Occlumency. “A-are we going to…use that?” Harry asked,
confused.

Aislinn
turned from the window. “No. You will not be using that.” She waited a moment. “I told you to sit, boyo.”

Harry
hurried to a seat, and Aislinn strode to the other one directly across from
him. “Headmaster Dumbledore has asked
me to continue your lessons in Occlumency, and since I seem to be the only
witch in this bloody school that has the talent, I fear I must do it.” She must have noticed the grimace on Harry’s
face, for she added, “Believe me, I don’t want to do it either. Since you’re convinced I’m a Death Eater, we
might be a bit biased in this examination.
But my mind wanders. Let us
return to the topic at hand.”

Harry
waited. If this were to be anything
like last year, Aislinn would pull out her worst thoughts to put into the
pensieve, while Harry was stuck with all the unpleasant ones free for the
taking. He sighed. “I guess it has to be done, Professor.”

O’Flannery
screwed up her face. “Indeed, it must
be done. Now, Dumbledore let me borrow
his pensieve for storing my unpleasant thoughts, but I don’t believe it’s fair
for me to get rid of mine and you have to keep yours. Thus, I shall not be using it either.” She pushed it out of the way.
Harry stared at her incredulously.
She smiled a thin-lipped smile, pulling her hair back in a deft
movement. “Now you know how the process
works. I’d give you an outline of what
I will be doing to your head, but it will be no different than what Professor
Snape tried.” She paused as if
considering something. “Except for the
asinine and condescending comments, of course.”

Against his
will, he found himself smiling. As much
as he hated to admit it, she was a very good instructor and a fairly easy-going
person, despite her obvious attachment to the Death Eaters.

Aislinn
cleared her throat. “I expect to find
harsh memories. You should not be
afraid, as I have many as well. As for
the Death Eater incident, I trust you shall find out soon enough.” Professor O’Flannery took a deep breath. “Now, get ready.”

Harry
tensed his fists. I don’t want to
know. I don’t want to know…

“One.”

He took a
deep breath. I don’t want her inside
my head. I don’t want her to know I
feel akin to her…

“Two.”

I don’t
know what to say. I should stop this
now…I don’t need it…I-

“Three. Legilimens!”

The force
of Aislinn’s intrusion into his thoughts flung him against the back of his
chair. The nasty memory of Dudley
forcing him into the toilet resurfaced, as did the memories of the constant
beatings he had suffered at his brutal cousin’s hands. He struggled to push his Professor out of
his head, casting the Patronus charm indirectly. Suddenly, the presence in his head was gone.

She was
still sitting across from him, her arms crossed over her chest. She stared into his eyes; her gaze bored
into his. “Empty yourself, Harry. Forget emotion ever existed.”

He nodded
and clenched his fists again.

“Ready? Well then, legilimens!”

There was
that uncomfortable feeling in his head again, as though someone was sifting
through his thoughts and selecting the ones they thought would be most
humiliating. Professor Snape and his
worst memory. Kissing Cho Chang
underneath the mistletoe. Harry
summoned all of his will. “Protego!”
he shouted.

Professor
O’Flannery’s eyes widened. Thoughts
floated through Harry’s head; he knew they were hers. A young black-haired girl was being raped forcefully as a group
looked on. The same girl, a few years
older, tied to a post and being whipped.
Remus Lupin’s face floated in the miasma. A young looking Aislinn O’Flannery was having the Chinese
character tattooed on her finger.

Harry let
go of his concentration. He stared at
her, horrified. Aislinn was sinking
into her chair, her arms hugging her own body as if she was trying to hold
herself together. Unshed tears shone in
her eyes, and she blinked as if she was trying to clear them. “Was that…you?” asked Harry, incredulous.

“Can y’ see
now why I’m not a Death Eater?” Her
voice was hoarse and low, and the fake English accent had slipped again. “They were th’ ones who did that t’ me,” she
spat out. It was obvious she was trying
not to cry.

Before he
knew was he was doing, Harry had stood and was wrapping his arms around his
Professor. She actually seemed as
shocked as he, but she relaxed into his arms and rested her head on his
shoulder. She sniffled a little, and
then fell silent, barely even breathing.

“Thank ye,”
was all she said after a moment’s repose.

“You’re
welcome.” It took Harry a second before
he added the obligatory “Professor.” He
released her from the hug and looked at her.
She resembled a lost child rather than a teacher. He pointed to her finger. “What does it mean?” he asked.

Aislinn
smiled, adopting her false accent again.
“It means ‘Persevere.’ I chose
it for obvious reasons. It’s what I
do.”

“I’m sorry
I ever doubted you,” Harry said, genuinely sincere. “I figured with your family, you would be, you know, a-“

Professor
O’Flannery cut him off. “It’s perfectly
all right, child. I can understand how
anyone who’s been through what you have would be suspicious.” She tilted her head and gazed at him. “You’re not the first that has accused me of
the same. Why else do you think I quit
working for the Ministry?” A small
smile played on her features as she wiped the rest of the dampness from the
corners of her eyes. She shook her head,
and stood. “That will be all for
tonight. Hopefully tomorrow’s lesson
will be a bit more pleasant.”

Harry
turned to leave, but something made him turn back around. “Professor?” he asked. Aislinn cocked an eyebrow. “If you don’t mind, could I ask you things
about being an Auror? It’s what I’ve
wanted to do for a good while now.”

She
nodded. “Please, Harry. Call me Aislinn, and of course.” She nodded to him in a gesture of farewell,
and Harry turned away from her, both embarrassed and elated.

*

Snape was
sitting in an overstuffed armchair to the right of Dumbledore, watching the
assembled people out of the corner of his eye.
He pretended not to notice when Aislinn O’Flannery glided through the
door, looking sheepish and scared. This
would be her first meeting; it made complete sense. If Severus had his way, she would be barred from them
permanently, but no one ever asked his opinion. O’Flannery was a threat, and he would see to it that she was
disposed of. Snape popped his knuckles
unconsciously, and several of the people winced. Too bad for them.

Dumbledore
stood. The gathering fell silent as he
raised his hands, and he smiled. “So
glad to see you all tonight.” Snape
wanted to roll his eyes. The formality
and friendliness almost sickened him sometimes. Didn’t they realize they lived in dangerous times? “I would like to take this moment to
introduce they newest member of the Order, Aislinn O’Flannery. You may have heard of her based on her work
at the Ministry of Magic, or the reinstatement of the Tuatha de Dannan.” Every eye turned back to survey the woman
sheepishly standing at the back of the group.
She smiled sadly. Severus was
not surprised at all to see her rubbing the tattoo.

Snape
noticed several of the Aurors present suddenly looked wary. In fact, upon surveying the crowd, he saw
that many of those gathered looked angry, or betrayed. Dumbledore’s voice continued to rumble, but
Snape allowed his mind to wander. He
glanced at each face, mentally marking whoever was present. There was one glaring absence: Sirius Black
was not in the room. Sirius Black would
never enter the room again. Severus was
sad to say he did not mind the death of Black; in fact it seemed to come as a
relief. No one would oppose his role in
the order anymore, nor would there always be the nagging voice in the back of
the crowd accusing him for Death Eater activities. He heard a tiny voice in the back of his head telling him that
was exactly what he was doing with Aislinn O’Flannery, but he ignored it. She deserves it. There’s no doubt she is who she was born to
be. Snape relaxed back into his
chair, content with thinking his own thoughts, but the sound of Dumbledore’s
voice brought him out of his reverie.

“Severus?”

Snape
looked up, aggravated at being caught unawares. “Yes, Headmaster?” he asked, hoping for a prompt.

“I was
asking if you would mind telling the Order what happened between you and
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when you were summoned.” Dumbledore fixed him with a piercing gaze.

Snape
smiled a thin, malicious smile. “Of
course, Headmaster.” He stood, facing
the gathered group with severity. “I
was summoned three days ago into,” he winced, “Voldemort’s presence. I was told one thing, and one thing
only. It was to make sure nothing happened
to her.” He stressed the word,
pointing his finger right at Aislinn O’Flannery’s heart.

All heads
turned to stare at her, and a rogue voice from the crowd called out, “No
surprise.” Other voices echoed the
sentiment. Aislinn backed into a corner,
a feral and threatened look on her face.

Snape
continued. “He said she was a
controversy among his followers, and she must not be harmed. She must be kept safe, as if she was some important
flower.” The accusatory tone in his
voice rose; he had to fight to keep it down.

Aislinn’s
eyes were wide and scared. “I-It’s not
what you think. I’m not-I swear.” She narrowed her gaze right at Severus. “I am not a Death Eater.”

Tonks,
another Auror, stepped forward. “You
might not be, Miss O’Flannery, but your background is against you.”

Dumbledore’s
loud voice rumbled over the crowd.
“Enough! I called you here to
have a meeting, not a childish argument.
Aislinn is in my complete confidence; her background might be dark but
she is not determined by her parentage.
So let it be.” He fixed everyone
with a stern gaze. “Aislinn?”

She
straightened from the corner, her eyes large and filled with tears. “I thank you, Albus, for your
hospitality. It has been a pleasure,
believe me, but I think the atmosphere of this…” she paused, considering her
words. “…Gathering has become less
friendly. I believe I will take my
leave of you.” She dipped a quick
curtsy, and turned to exit.

“We will
take care of you, dear,” was all Dumbledore said as she slammed the door behind
her.

Snape
looked abashed, if that was at all possible.
He had not meant to cause her such visible agitation, but it seemed to
give him the lead in his own private investigation. Her vehemence had to mean something. He turned back to the Order of the Phoenix, spreading his
hands. “That was all Voldemort said to
me. ‘Keep her safe. Let no one touch
her.’ I will let you all draw your own
conclusions.” He sat, interlocking his
fingers and resting his hands on his lap.
Let her cry. He would not be
moved.

Lupin’s
eyes stared hard into his. “This is
ridiculous.” He was livid. “Act like the adults you are, not children.” Remus faced Dumbledore, saying, “I believe I
will leave, too. My friend,” he
stressed the word, “needs comfort.” He
opened the door, nodding his head in farewell.
Only Snape did not nod back.

*

Aislinn ran
from the room, sobbing. It had not been
fair. She had no chance to defend
herself against the accusations.
Everyone except Dumbledore was already convinced. She had not known Kingsley or Tonks was in
the Order. What hurt her most, though,
was that Remus, her own dear Remus, had done nothing. He merely stood back and let her take the abuse, abuse she had
taken all her life.

Footsteps
behind her made her slow. She flattened
herself into a doorway, hoping to let them pass so she could continue her
crying in peace. She bit her bottom
lip, trying to keep it from trembling.
She squeezed her eyes shut tight, and a second later felt warm arms
encircle her. She collapsed against
them and buried her nose into Lupin’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she sobbed.

“No,
darling, I’m sorry. I let them hurt
you. I let them think that you were
someone you weren’t.” His voice was
soft and comforting. “Come on. I left to be with you, Aislinn.”

Aislinn
looked at him through her tears. “Go
raibh math agat,” she muttered, wiping her nose against his shirt. He chuckled.

“I said I
was here to comfort you, not be used a tissue.”

“Sorry,”
she sobbed. She felt herself be lifted,
and put her arms around his neck. As he
carried her to her room she cried hard.
Her body trembled with the force of the sobs, and a low moan of anguish
escaped her throat. Remus shushed her,
and she buried her head once again into his shoulder, crying quietly.

“What
Severus did was wrong,” Remus muttered, seemingly to himself. “That bastard, he just never gives up.” Remus sighed. “Unward your door, will you?”

Aislinn
snapped twice and Remus opened the door, setting his friend on her feet. Aislinn faced the window, crossing her arms
underneath her breasts. “I dinnae know
what I want anymore, darlin’. Do I want
t’ be here, or back i' th’ flat?” She
shrugged her shoulders and wiped the remaining tears from her face. “Ye said I owed y’ a song.”

“Aislinn, you’re in no state to sing to me.” Remus put his hands on his hips and tried to
look stern.

She glared
right back at him. “I can look stern
too, Remus. An’ yeer not going t’ stop
me.”

Lupin threw
up his hands. “Fine! Fine, sing me a song if you’re so intent to
do so. Don’t blame me when you sound
like shit, okay? I swear, sometimes you
act just like a little girl.”

Aislinn
stuck out her bottom lip at him, imitating a pouty child. “Okay, Mr. Grumpy.” She took two long strides and grabbed her
acoustic guitar, and carried it out the door.
She turned back to face Lupin when he didn’t follow. “Are ye comin’ or not?”

“I-I
thought you were playing it in here?”
Remus raised a quizzical eyebrow.

Aislinn
grinned wickedly and shook her head.
“If they’re going t’ bother me, I’ll bother them. We’re goin’ outside.”

Lupin
sighed and followed her, moving his lips as if he was praying for
patience.

The air
outside was biting and cold, but Aislinn didn’t even seem to notice. Remus hugged his threadbare robes tighter
around him, but Aislinn’s billowed behind her.
All in all she made an imposing figure silhouetted against the
castle. Almost six feet tall and determined,
she held her guitar like a woman on a mission.
Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and strands blew free as
a rogue gust of wind rose from the lake.
Her pale skin was alabaster white in the moonlight.

Remus
stared at her, entranced. She had
always had some ethereal quality to her, as if she had stepped out of a
fairytale. She acted recklessly
sometimes, but she made up for it in sound good sense. He only wished he could love her the way she
needed to be loved. He shook his head
as he realized she would probably never have that comfort.

Aislinn
stopped underneath a window and put the guitar-strap around her shoulders. A few strums across the strings proved the
instrument was tuned. She cleared her
throat and cracked her knuckles, then placed her thin fingertips on the
fingerboard. To Remus’ eyes she straightened
visibly, becoming even more regal-looking.
If that was possible, or course.

“Heaven
bent to take my hand and lead me through the fire. Be the long awaited answer to a long and painful fight.” Her voice was clear and beautiful, its
roughness banished as she raised it in song.
Lupin looked at her, entranced.
He had never heard this song before; she must have written it
recently. “Truth be told I've tried
my best, but somewhere along the way I got caught up in all there was to offer
and the cost was so much more than I could bear.”

Remus noticed some of the windows
had opened, and various faces were leaning out into the darkness to get a
better glimpse of the person singing.
Aislinn continued, oblivious of the audience.

“Though I've tried, I've fallen... I have sunk so low, I have messed up, better
I should know. So don't come round here
and tell me I told you so...” Her fingers wavered slightly on the strings,
but it couldn’t be noticed in the tune.
Lupin thought he heard her sniffle a bit, although he could see no
visible tears on her cheeks.

“We all begin with good intent,
love was raw and young. We believed
that we could change ourselves; the past could be undone. But we carry on our backs the burden time
always reveals: the lonely light of morning, in the wound that would not
heal. It's the bitter taste of losing
everything that I have held so dear.”
She opened her eyes and turned them upwards to the stars. The wind whipped her hair around. “Though I've tried, I've fallen... I have sunk so low, I have messed up, better
I should know. So don't come round here
and tell me I told you so...”

Now Lupin could see the unshed
tears shining in her eyes, but her voice held strong. It was pure hell to see her in anguish, but he realized he could
do nothing for her. Music was her
relaxant and her medication. She might
cry, but it was just her remembering, and being caught up in the melody of the
song she played. Tears seeped from the
corner of her eyes as she closed them, putting all the emotion she possessed
into the next verse.

“Heaven bent to take my hand,
nowhere left to turn. I'm lost to those
I thought were friends, to everyone I know.
Oh, they turned their heads embarrassed, and pretend that they don't
see, but it's one missed step you'll slip before you know it, and there doesn't
seem a way to be redeemed. Though I've
tried, I've fallen... I have sunk so
low, I have messed up, better I should know.
So don't come round here and tell me I told you so...”

The final notes of her guitar faded
on the wind as Aislinn released her grip on the fingerboard and opened her eyes
again. The song was over, and Remus
Lupin shook his head to clear away the effects of her auditory trance upon him. It was then Aislinn seemed to notice people
were watching her. She blushed, the
faint traces of tears on her cheeks glittering in the light that spilled from
open windows. She grinned, abashed, and
gave a deep bow. Applause broke out,
and O’Flannery blushed again. She ran
her eyes over the crowd, noting they were mostly students who had been taken
away from their studies by the odd sound of music being played on a cold winter
night.

Suddenly, her gaze stopped. Several members of the Order had poked their
heads out, looking confused. Only
Snape, with his long fingers clutching the window sash, looked upset. He glared at her, his eyes black as coal and
twice as menacing. A frown was etched
on his features, and in the harsh shadows she could have sworn he looked like
the devil. She nudged Lupin, and headed
towards the doors. She had to escape
that angry glare, demon-like and full of malice.

*

Harry
Potter trudged his way up the stairs, weighted down with guilt. He had already accused her without even
knowing who she was or where she came from.
He had thought of her as an evil person, but in reality she was a young
woman who had been wronged. Her life
is much like mine, he thought dejectedly.

A passel of
first years rushed by him, taking advantage of the brief time they had before
they were required to be in their respective Houses. Harry let them pass, staring longingly at them as they turned a
corner. He remembered when he was that
young. He had just come to Hogwarts,
completely ignorant of any wizard tradition, but he had to learn fast. It was amazing some lessons didn’t take.

Time after
time he had learned not to judge people by their outward looks and
background. Aislinn O’Flannery was a
perfect example. She was plain looking,
but a light in her eyes showed she was kind.
Harry wished he could have gone on that alone, rather than searching
into her background and messing things up.

God, I’m
a bloody idiot! Harry hit himself
on the forehead, still cursing his bad judgment. That was the reason for the fight in the kitchen. It wasn’t her professed duty to Voldemort
that kept her quiet, but the abuse she suffered as a child at the hands of
Death Eaters.

Something
tugged at the back of Harry’s mind. He
let the thought through, pondering over it.
Had her parents somehow given her up?
No father or mother, no matter how cruel, could do that to a child. He had been treated badly by the Dursley’s,
but at least he has clothes on his back and a room to sleep in. At least he hadn’t been beaten. He made a mental note to ask her about it
the next time they had a heart-to-heart chat.

One thing
about that night gladdened Harry’s heavy soul.
Professor O’Flannery had promised to answer his questions about becoming
an Auror! He thought he had seen Tonks
earlier that night, but once he turned back around to look, she was gone. He had shrugged his shoulders and continued
on his way to dinner, where, much to his dismay, he found Aislinn missing. Dumbledore looked surprised as well; it was
as if something unexpected had happened.

He spoke
the password to the Fat Lady, not even really thinking about what he was
doing. The Gryffindor common room was
filled with the usual suspects, whom were either lounging about chatting or
doing homework. Harry smiled at
Hermione, who smiled back and nudged Ron.
Ron had just waved when the sound of something beautiful drifted past
the open window. All talking ceased.

“It’s-It’s
music!” exclaimed a confused Dean Thomas.

Harry ran
to the window, searching the dark night for a sign of where the sound emanated
from. He squinted his eyes, and was
able to make out two figures about a hundred yards away, standing tall in the
surrounding darkness. Both were tall
and thin, but one had the definite broad shoulders of a man. The other one was obscured; all Harry could
make out was that it had pale skin. He
pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose, and continued to
squint. The unsexed figure was holding
a guitar, playing a few tenuous notes.

By now a
crowd had gathered at the windows, leaning their heads out in order to get a
better look. All of a sudden a real
melody began, and a familiar voice began singing. Harry looked at Ron and Hermione incredulously. The voice was pure and beautiful, quite
unlike the harsh, drunken tones they had heard and the club that night. It was obvious their professor could carry a
tune, but neither of them had ever imagined she could sing that well. Out of that plain face came the most
extraordinary voice.

Harry found
himself grinning. The song was sad, and
the other figure’s identity was unclear, but Aislinn O’Flannery’s song took his
mind away from his misjudging of her, and made it seem that everything between
them would eventually be reconciled.
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DamhsaÃ­ Naofa is DiamhaslaÃ­

DamhsaÃ Naofa is DiamhaslaÃ