Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 6
- 7
- 8
```
“I am in absolute shock, Severus Snape.  This is completely unacceptable.  The use of deception on a coworker cannot be excused.”  Albus Dumbledore was furious.  Snape had been called into his chambers believing it was something in conjunction with Order of the Phoenix.  However, he had been sorely mistaken.  
```
“I’m very
sorry, Headmaster,” Snape mumbled to the floor.

“Sorry,
Severus? Save your apologies for Miss
O’Flannery.” The worst thing about
Dumbledore’s reproaches was not harsh words or yelling, quite the contrary. Albus never raised his voice. Instead, every word was delivered in a
conversational tone, punctuated by occasional reproaching looks. It was the worst form of punishment one
could ever expect.

“Headmaster-“
Snape began.

Dumbledore
cut him off abruptly. “Severus, I had
expected more of you. You acted like a
third year student with a vendetta.
Using such dubious means on a fellow professor is intolerable.”

Snape
grimaced. “What shall I do then,
Headmaster? How do you suggest that I
remedy this situation?”

“I was originally
considering dismissing you from the staff.”

Snape
looked up from the floor at once and gaped.
“Headmaster!”

Dumbledore
waved his hand in a motion to be silent.
“I have since rethought my decision.
Instead, you will be docked two weeks of your pay, as well as be
responsible for hallway patrols the entire month of November.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “Also, I want a personal apology to Aislinn
O’Flannery. Your cruelty to her was
uncalled for. You can go now, Severus.”

Snape
stood and turned to go, but once again turned to face his employer and old
friend. “Headmaster, you can surely
understand.”

Albus
nodded. “I can indeed, Severus, but you
must understand that some methods should be all together avoided. I hope your curiosity is satisfied now.”

Snape
nodded once, and promptly exited the chamber.

The
hallway was deserted, but nonetheless he hurried to his chamber, shunning any
contact. Dismissing him from the
staff! He could barely believe
it. There was no way Dumbledore could even
have thought of getting rid of him!
What ever happened to ‘you’re the best potions master this school has
ever had?’

Severus
slammed the door behind him, seething.
He tried to ignore the voice in his head screaming for recognition, but
his inattention to it was in vain. He
let the guilt wash over him as he poured himself the familiar snifter of
liquor. At the moment, all he wanted
was to get very drunk.

Dumbledore
was right, the voice said. You
wronged her, Severus Snape. In no way
did she deserve being duped by the likes of you.

“Shut
up!” screamed Severus. “Just shut
up! I’m sorry!” He curled up onto the floor, sobs wracking
his body. It had been so long since he
had cried. O’Flannery had turned him
into an emotional wreck. He cursed her,
and every good thing she stood for. She
was everything that had been denied to him since boyhood.

Eventually,
it seemed there were no tears left in him which to cry. The emotion exhausted him; he had no desire
to rise up off the cold floor. If he
got up, he would have to continue to face the day, the coming year, the rest of
his life. It would be so much easier to
let life pass quickly from his frame.

There
were several ingredients in his potion cabinet, which, if taken together would
cause sleep, paralysis, then death. It
was a perfect combination. No one would
expect it, and he doubted anyone would care.
Except Albus, the voice said, chiding.

Snape sat
up on one arm, looking longingly at the full brandy snifter on the
desktop. He shook his melancholy off
like a cloak, standing to rearrange his teacher’s robes. Living would have to do for now. Dumbledore was right, but he would weather
this as he weathered everything else: perseverance and time. Despite that, he could not stop his mind
from sliding back to the horrible things he had learned about O’Flannery. He was not fit to lick her shoe, but yet
there he was, assuming he knew all. How
many times had he told himself he could not play god? He sneered. God had no
place in this equation. It was just he,
a woman, and his bitter mistakes.

Classes
today had been subdued. Most had
learned of O’Flannery’s strange absence, and more than a few were confused
about it. There were even rumors
circulating that she would resign.
Snape had to hold tight to his temper, but very few students even
bothered angering him. All in all there
was a strange depression hanging over the school. It fitted his mood perfectly.

Now,
sitting in front of his empty fireplace, he reflected on the events of last
night, dissecting each thing. He
approached her responses from every angle, trying to find rhyme or reason in
her suffering. He had to admit there
was a twang of jealousy; he was no longer the professor with the most painful
past. Despite his folly, he still
cursed her.

Severus
mused, thinking on the song he had heard a few nights ago. One particular line had caught his
attention, and he spoke it aloud. “But
we carry on our backs the burden time always reveals: the lonely light of
morning, in the wound that would not heal.”
He sighed. It all sounded so
beautiful. He had no idea she could
sing like that.

A memory
tickled at the back of his mind. He had
been walking back from Knockturn Alley before the term had started. He had met Goyle, the fool, and noticed a
club on the corner. A woman had been
singing and playing guitar. That same
woman, the one that had so unnerved him, was now teaching with him.

Snape
groaned. Life had been hitting him with
too many coincidences, and he didn’t like it.
First it was the dreams. Then,
the dreams had become reality. People
he had seen in his head, or even on the street, were becoming key figures in
the way his life was going. Aislinn
O’Flannery was a case in point. A brief
glance of her in a club had come to determine whether or not he would continue
to be on the teaching staff at Hogwarts.

He cursed
under his breath. Dinner was
approaching; he would have to face her.
Hopefully she would wait to throttle him in private. There was little doubt in his mind that she
would be leaving, a fact that Snape was thankful for. This was just one of those irreconcilable differences, except in
this case neither participant was married.
They were rivals in the purest sense of the word. Except he had to go off and complicate
things. He could only pray she would be
gone by the end of next week.

Snape sat
until dinner, thinking on life in general and what he would do when he was old
enough to retire. Maybe he would buy a
house on the English coast and live in solitude until he died. It sounded appealing: peace and quiet, with
only the extreme remoteness as a companion.
After spending many of his years with students, it would be a welcome
change. He sighed as he stood. The nights of not sleeping were finally
catching up to him. His eyelids felt
heavy and his head drooped. Not to
mention the beginnings of a headache were creeping at his temples.

He walked
down the hallway rubbing the bridge of his nose. Most students were already in the Great Hall, if the lack of
traffic had anything to do with it.
Snape hoped he wouldn’t be too late.
He could always blame it on guilt.
He didn’t know how he was going to face O’Flannery; a professor could
not just change seats without it being noticed and remarked upon. A sure way to spark controversy was to
suddenly move, or do anything unexpected.

He
ascended the platform and took a seat as his customary place. However, something felt wrong. He looked around him, and noticed the
glaring gap to his right. O’Flannery was
gone. There was no sign she had even
been there. Snape raised a quizzical
eyebrow and turned to Professor Flitwick.
“Do you have any idea where Miss O’Flannery is?” he asked, trying to be
nonchalant.

Flitwick
nodded. “Rumor is, she’s taking meals in
her room. Won’t give a reason why,
though.”

Snape
tried his best to look just as confused even though he knew the reason quite
well. It was to avoid him. For once he could find no fault in her
logic. If he had the ability, he would
avoid himself. Severus sighed, and
cursed under his breath. He had been
fairly hungry, but his appetite had vanished suddenly at seeing his former
nemesis’ absence. Damn him and his
quest for knowledge. Snape, old boy,
there is no way you can know the truth about everything and not get burned,
he thought to himself sadly.

*

Aislinn
O’Flannery watched him over the rims of her sunglasses. He had been puttering around for hours, but
she could see his energy was dissipating.
She smiled at him when he looked her way, but then frowned as he turned
into another store.

Her band
was a good two hours late, and she was getting anxious. It wasn’t exactly anger, just
impatience. She and Lupin were to meet
them at a café, but they were there early.
So, they had lunch and waited.
And waited. And waited. She couldn’t help but wonder what was
holding them up. Lupin stepped out of
the store, and Aislinn waved him over.

“Remus,
darlin’, d’ye have any idea where they are?”

Lupin
shrugged. “I have no idea Aislinn. Traffic perhaps?”

Aislinn
rolled her eyes. “Ye forgit that I
lived in London f’r years, an’ traffic was never this bad. I think they stood us up.” For a moment Lupin looked shocked, but then
smiled.

“Always a
joke, always a bad situation, right?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

Aislinn
nodded, but then promptly began gazing over her friend’s left shoulder. Gazing hard. Remus turned, searching for what Aislinn was staring at. Two men were peering at them from around a
corner of a building. They were giggling
like girls, and Lupin promptly shot them a rude gesture with his hand. Aislinn, on the other hand, beckoned them
like an angry mother.

“Where
the hell have ye been?” she yelled.
“We’ve been here a good two hours, and yee’re off fecking around while
we’re waiting. I have a mind t’ give ye
a good fong in the arse, ye filthy, joking-“

“Aislinn,
my sweet Irish flower, we’re here now,” one chimed in, cutting her off in the
middle of her tirade.

The other
jumped in. “Yes, Aislinn, your voice is
like the music of a sweet May morning.
Your face would inspire sonnets of gentility and kindness.” He grinned a gap-toothed smile.

Aislinn’s
face relaxed, and she even smiled back.
“Cad eile?” she
said, shrugging her shoulders. “I do
what I can.” A moment of silence passed
between them, until Lupin raised an eyebrow.

“Are you practicing or not?” he
asked. “As for me, I’m running a few
quick errands in Diagon Alley. I have
to stock up on supplies if I’m to be teaching again.”

The two men shot Remus and Aislinn a
questioning look, but shrugged it off.
Aislinn shot Lupin a sad smile and gave him a quick hug. “I’ll see ye again at the end o’ the day,
all right?” She turned, following the
other two down a street. She wrapped
her arms around her chest, as if trying to keep warm. That was a gesture all too common for her now.

It made her look lost, but lost was
how she felt at the moment. She didn’t
know where she was going in life. Yet
another unexpected turn had taken her from her goal. Where once her path had looked clear, it was now clouded and
gray. She sighed loudly. “Damn you, Snape,” she muttered under her
breath.

The tallest man was leading the
group; he turned to look at her. “Did
you say something, Aislinn?”

Aislinn shook her head vigorously,
trying to deny anything to both her friend and herself. The man fixed her with a glare. “Okay, Rob, ye win. I said ‘Damn you Snape,’ if that makes any
sense t’ ye.” She put her hands on her
hips and jutted her lower jaw out.

“Makes enough sense to know that
something’s wrong. When we get to the
warehouse you’re telling us all about it.”
He shook his finger at her as if chiding a grumpy child and turned his
back. Aislinn shot her middle finger at
him.

The warehouse in question was a
square brick building owned by Geoff’s father.
It was normally filled with boxes of imports and merchandise, but Geoff
had cleared out a special room for band practice. The walls had noise absorbing pads stapled to them and several
electrical hookups for amps and microphones.
It reminded Aislinn of a makeshift studio, which in a sense it was.

She smiled as she remembered the
drunken parties they had thrown there, and the anger of Geoff’s father as he
swore at them in French. Both Geoff and
Aislinn had blushed, but Rob had no idea what the old man was yelling at
them. The most he could say in French
was “Je voudrais un autre biere, s’il vous plaît.” Aislinn, however, understood every word of
his obscenity laced tirade, and tried to placate as best she could. She guessed her tendency to please was based
on years of violent upbringing, but something about old, angry men scared her.

She was brought out of her private
thoughts by running right into Geoff’s back.
He grunted and turned. “What?”

Aislinn smiled. “I was rememberin’ when yeer fayther tried
t’ kick our arses f’r drinkin’ in th’ warehouse.”

“I remember that too. Geoff, what was your girl’s name?”

“Saiorse,” Aislinn chimed in.

Geoff nodded gingerly. “Yeah, that was her. She turned out to be a lesbian in the long
run. Ashy, you have odd friends.”

Aislinn clenched her fists
angrily. “What have I told you about
calling me Ashy?” She suddenly lashed
out, kicking her old friend in the butt.
“If you call me Ashy, I call you Geoffrey, remember?”

Geoff grimaced. “Deal.”
He held out his hand, shaking hers.
“No more Ashy.”

Aislinn nodded. “Good.
’S Aislinn. Not Ashy, Ash, or,
f’r the love o’ God, not Mick!”
She giggled. “Remember that
girl, that English girl, that thought it would be fine t’ call me Mick b’cause
I was Irish?”

Rob nodded. “You gave her a good ‘fonging,’ to use your
wording.”

“A right ould fonging too. Bet she couldn’t sit down f’r a week!” Aislinn cracked her knuckles.

“Aislinn, yee’re a righ’ oul’ bitch,
ye are. I t’ink dat ye should ‘ead ‘ome
t’ ‘Ogwarts,” Rob giggled, exaggerating her accent.

Aislinn jumped around in a circle in
agitation. “I do not sound like
that!” she whined. “The accent gives me
character!”

“Yes, dear, but a right ould bitch
of a character.”

Rob didn’t have time to prepare for
Aislinn’s tackle. He grunted and went
down under the weight of her bearing down on him. She shook him gently, and proceeded to tickle him in the
ribs. “Say uncle!” she yelled.

“U-Uncle,” Rob managed to gasp out between
laughs. “St-stop it, Aislinn. St-st-stop, I’m sorry!”

“Good.” Aislinn stood up, dusting off the front of her jeans with a
superior air. Geoff had been in the
process of unlocking the office door when the scuffle had broken out. He resumed the task, shaking his head in
mock agitation. The door was opened and
Aislinn stepped inside, gazing at the dark interior. She wrapped her arms around her again, but this time in order to
stay warm. The inside of the warehouse
was freezing.

The weather had not been
particularly cold, so she had not brought a jacket or coat of any kind. That was a decision she was cursing at the
moment. It was a warm October, but it
had been said that the coming winter would be particularly harsh, something
Aislinn wished for fervently. She
turned to Geoff. “Can ye turn up the
heat at all?” she asked through chattering teeth.

He looked at her askance. “It’s a warehouse. We don’t have heat.”

Aislinn sighed. “Fine,” she said huffily. “I’ll just freeze.”

Rob rolled his eyes at her behind
her back. “Don’t be so
melodramatic. It’s not that cold. You’re Irish, for the love of God. You should be used to it.”

Aislinn giggled. “Good point.” She walked around the numerous crates and barrels towards the
room Geoff had created. Her electric
guitar was still in its case, where she had left it. She didn’t bother with her acoustic this trip, although she
guessed she would end up cursing that fact later on. She didn’t want to change strings with freezing fingers.

She lovingly unzipped the padded
case, running her fingers over the strings.
The guitar had cost about a fourth of her total salary four years ago;
there was no doubt it had increased significantly. She twanged the G-string, and winced. It was horribly out of tune.
As she began to tune the other band members joined her, and a cacophony
of off-tune music and strumming filled the air. Aislinn plucked a few strings haphazardly, and found them
sufficiently tuned. She smiled lovingly
as she plugged the guitar into an amplifier and cranked up the volume.

“Not too loud,” said Geoff. “I don’t want my father to get a call. Ce serait mauvais.”

Aislinn turned down the volume a bit and began
strumming out her new song. “Heaven
bent to take my hand and lead me through the fire. Be the long awaited answer to a long and painful fight.” She had sung it once before, outside of
Hogwarts. Now was the time to show it
off.

She smiled at Rob and Geoff as
she sang, pleased with herself. Maybe
today wasn’t so bad after all.

*

The news
was all over the school. Aislinn
O’Flannery was resigning. Hermione had
heard it from Seamus, who had heard it from Neville, who thought he heard
Professor O’Flannery muttering about it in the hallway. Hermione had promptly relayed the message to
Harry and Ron. It had been her
experience that no matter how far-flung it sounded, rumors of that magnitude
were normally true. After all, the
Chamber of Secrets had been a rumor, and one hardly to be believed. But it had existed, and that was the crucial
point.

O’Flannery’s
absence had been noted by all. No
professor was ever absent from dinner unless something serious happened. The only problem was no one seemed to know
the reason why O’Flannery was leaving.
However, everyone knew it had something to do with Snape. His glares over dinner were enough testimony
to that.

The mood
hanging over the school was one of extreme dejection. O’Flannery had been an invaluable asset in her student’s lives;
she was exuberant and young. She was
fairly lenient and remembered what it was like to be a student. Harry could not but hate Snape for chasing
her away.

Snape
himself had been rather unlike himself in classes. Given, no one antagonized him needlessly, but as of late he had
not even cared. He would put the lesson
on the board and sit at his desk, either grading papers or staring off into
space. Once, Harry even thought he
heard his professor muttering some intelligible strand of words, something
sounding like “realtai meen wiche ayah in bass.” A chord of curiosity had struck Harry. Strangely the nonsense words meant something to him, but as to
what he didn’t know. All he could tell
was that Snape was finally losing his mind.

It was
Saturday. Normally it would be a
Hogsmeade weekend, but since the threat of Voldemort was growing, the students
were confined to the campus. There had
been some grumbling at first, but no one was willing to face an agent of the
Dark One unarmed. Hogsmeade would just
have to wait.

Harry had
searched all morning for O’Flannery, but had not managed to find hide nor hair
of her. She had seemingly
disappeared. Her elusiveness both
angered and captivated him. It was like
she had a secret life, a Muggle life.
Harry and Ron had been making conjectures all day about where she went,
and what she did. Ron fancied she had a
separate family that didn’t know she was a witch, and she had decided to return
and take care of them. Harry had guessed
she was working on Order business, prowling about Ireland with dogged determination. Hermione had merely huffed and called them
childish. According to her there was no
way Aislinn could have a separate family.
The Order was more likely, but yet highly questionable. Hermione figured Aislinn had just come to
the grim realization of teaching: lots of work for little appreciation.

“She is
destined for greater things,” Hermione had said, nodding her head
emphatically. She went on to discuss
their Charms homework for Monday. Harry
and Ron promptly tuned her out and went back into their own separate
thoughts. Harry couldn’t guess Ron’s,
but if they were the same as his he was trying to puzzle out the mystery behind
his professor’s sudden disappearance.

He knew
it was a topic he shouldn’t dwell on.
He should just forget about O’Flannery and let her go to whatever end
she wanted to go to. Instead, he took
every aspect and analyzed it, trying to find a solution to the problem, a
reason, anything. He even skipped
dinner. It was only when Hermione sat
him down for a good talking-to did he realize what he was doing would not help
his professor or him. It would only
torment him more and solve nothing.

He
sighed, and decided to sit outside in the last rays of sunset. He didn’t know why, there was just something
propelling him towards the lake, where the sun was setting orange and
brilliant. He waved his friends away,
preferring to be alone. As he descended
the stairs he found himself humming the song Aislinn had sung the previous
night. Her voice had entranced him, and
obviously others as well. Today alone
he had heard three people with the tune on their lips.

Harry
pushed open the doors to the Great Hall, closing his eyes against the blast of
air that hit him square in the face.
Winter was definitely in the air.
He could smell the crispness of the leaves that fell in the Forbidden
Forest and the impending hint of frost.
He sighed, feeling peaceful for what seemed like the first time in the
entire school year.

Classes
had been much harder that year.
Professor O’Flannery’s emphasis on history had floored his grade, and
Snape seemed to have an even stronger vendetta against him than ever
before. This, combined with his uncanny
sense to know what others felt, seemed to put him in an awkward place. He couldn’t directly come out and claim his
gift, but at the same time the secrecy was driving him crazy. He knew he could survive it, but picking up
emotions of complete strangers was odd, if not downright creepy.

O’Flannery
seemed to emit the most feeling. Often
the emotions were confusing. He would
get twinges of happiness, fear, and revulsion.
But the one feeling always present was a deep simmering anger, and the
knowledge of a hidden secret. Harry was
in on her clandestine past, and it was something he had sworn he would never
repeat to anyone. He knew that not even
he was supposed to know.

Harry
drew his robes tighter about him. He
had reached the shores of the lake, and the mellow light of a sinking sun
bathed him in an orange tint. He
smiled. The final warmth of another day
sunk into his bones, but at the same time he smelled something that made him
wrinkle his nose. It was cigarette
smoke, and acrid in his nose. He
sneezed, and turned.

Professor
O’Flannery was watching him with a raised eyebrow. She held a cigarette in her left hand, and took a long drag,
emitting the smoke through her nostrils.
For some reason it made Harry think of a devil. She waved a lazy finger at him.

He smiled
back at her. “What are you doing out
here?” he asked her.

Aislinn
shrugged. “Same as you, really.” She had dropped the English accent he was so
accustomed to hearing. Obviously she
was tired of pretending.

“Where
did your accent go, Professor?” Harry inquired innocently.

“Figured
I didn’t need it any more. Y’ know
about me now, me past and all.” For a
moment she looked pensive. “Don’t think
yee’re intrudin’ on me solitude. Yee’re
more ‘n welcome t’ sit.” She gestured
to the wide swatch of dying sunlight.
Harry did so, and Aislinn flicked the rest of her cigarette into the
lake. “I know it’s bad, but I’m sure
th’ fish wouldn’t mind getting' some nicotine.” She smiled, as if she shared a private joke with someone
invisible.

Harry
sighed. “I didn’t know you
smoked.” It was a statement rather than
an accusation, and fortunately Aislinn recognized it as such.

She
sighed as well, but hers sounded more melancholy. “I know, Harry. It’s a
bad habit, an’ I realize it. I never
did drugs, I rarely get drunk-“ She
paused and then continued again.
“-That’s not saying I don’t, mind ye, but very rarely. And def’nitely not when I’m coming back t’
the school tonight. Anyway, I got
started smokin’ fairly young, and got hooked.”
She shook her finger at Harry, her eyes dancing. “If I ever catch ye, I’ll give yer arse a
royal fonging, ye hear?”

Harry
laughed. At least she managed to keep a
sense of humor. “You shouldn’t have to
worry about that, Professor. I have no
desire to give myself lung cancer.” He
smiled. “Professor, I’ve heard a rumor
that you would be leaving.” He waited
for some confirmation, but when none came he proceeded with his question. “It can’t be true, can it?”

Aislinn
sighed. “I wish ‘t weren’t, darlin.’”

“B-b-but
you can’t leave! Who will I learn
Occlumency from? Who will teach me
about being an Auror!” Harry wrung his
hands nervously. “You can’t go,” he
said in a tiny, upset voice.

Aislinn
smiled again, but sadly this time. “I
don’t know who’ll be teachin’ ye. All I
can ‘ope is that ‘s not Snape; that would be an absolute crime. Harry, there comes a point in everyone’s
life that they must give up somethin’ they care about. I love this job, I love the students I
teach, but certain circumstances have made it difficult f’r me t’ remain ‘ere. I would give me entire soul t’ stay, but at
the same time, I would be too afraid o’ puttin’ ye in any kind o’ danger.”

“What
danger?” Harry asked.

“I am a
wanted woman, Harry. Death Eaters would
stop at nothin’ t’ make sure I don’t survive.
I know too much about Voldemort; I know too much about who’s who in his
elite society. I am a threat t’ ‘is
establishment.” Professor O’Flannery
paused for a moment, as if contemplating something. Her nails made clicking sounds and she tapped them against each
other. “You see why I won’t stay? I could incur all sorts o’ harm against ye,
and all o’ yeer friends and family. I
won’t risk that f’r my sake. I am not
worth that much.”

Harry was
silent. Her reasoning made absolute
sense, but in his heart of hearts, he did not want to believe it. He adored her, in his own way. She gave a certain aura to the school; a
lightness that he had never really felt before. The oppressiveness that seemed to always hang above his head was
dissipating, and he thought it had little to do with his own personal
situation. “Professor O’Flannery, may I
confide something in you?" he asked timidly.

She
appeared shocked for a moment, but hid her emotions well. “O’ course, child. What is it ye want t’ tell me?”

He
started at the beginning, when he first saw her in the club and received a
feeling about her emotional state. He
described how it had persisted, and how now he felt almost everything anyone
else was feeling.

Aislinn
thought a moment before answering, and when she did her words were
measured. “Harry,” she began, “that’s a
gift if I’ve ever heard o’ one. Y’ have
a talent, and I don’t want ye to think about ignorin’ it, or wishin’ t’ give it
up. At the same time, it’s a dubious
talent. I admit it would seem t’ make
things a lot more difficult, but y’ must realize that you’re a talented young
man. Ye’ve got gifts that no one else
has. I don’t know if it has t’ do wi’
what ye’ve been t’rough, but child, believe me, cultivate th’ talents y’ have. I know I would do th’ same.”

Harry
contemplated on her advice for a moment.
“I know it’s a talent, but I wouldn’t necessarily call it a gift. Frankly, it’s odd.” When she nodded, he continued. “Of course it makes things easier with
people I know, but when I’m picking up emotions of complete strangers I feel
like I’m drilling into their skull, into places they don’t want me.”

“Harry,
darlin,’ unnerstand that once ye’ve worked on these talents you’ve got, your
control of things will be better. If
you train yourself, you can block out the emotions you don’t want to feel;
perhaps in a while you’ll even forget y’ notice them.” She turned to look back out at the
lake. The sun was rapidly slipping
behind the horizon and the sky was growing dark above the tenuous orange
hue. “Ye might want t’ head inside,
Harry. I don’t think talkin’ t’ me
would get ye pardon from another professor.”

Harry
nodded and stood, feeling a lot better.
“Thank you very much, Professor,” he said before turning to walk inside.

*

Snape had
been drawn outside by the hint of a breeze and caught a glance of unruly hair
framing a face similar to James Potter’s.
He sneered. His son had come to
resemble him in so many ways: the face, the hair, the arrogance. However, Lily’s green eyes stared out of his
face. Severus felt a twinge of pain at
remembering Lily. He had loved her for
a while, but only from a distance. She
would have never had him anyway, so he pretended to hate her for her
parentage. Given, he had never been
close with Mudbloods, but letting her know his true feelings would only set him
up for another drubbing. So he had
merely watched and desired, and then let James steal away the only person he
had ever truly wanted.

All at
once, Snape stopped. Someone was
humming, and the voice sounded awfully familiar. He padded on quiet grass until he was able to see around a corner
of the old castle and wondered where she had been. The woman had been gone all day; no one could find her. Snape hadn’t bothered to ask Dumbledore. He wouldn’t have divulged his knowledge
anyway. A thought crossed Snape’s mind,
and it dealt with the difficult task of apologizing. Now would probably be the perfect time to do it. O’Flannery was alone and not expecting him. He would just tell her he was sorry and move
on.

He
stepped out from around the castle, and cleared his throat. “Miss O’Flannery?” he asked in a tenuous
voice.

She
started, and shot to her feet faster than Snape could have thought
possible. “Pairilis!” she cried,
flinging the strange word toward him.
Suddenly, he felt as though invisible cords were binding his limbs, and
tightly. He could not speak. Something was pressing on his windpipe,
cutting off all access to oxygen. He
started to see spots, but it seemed O’Flannery finally realized who he was.

She
snapped her fingers and muttered another strange word and the unseen bonds were
released. She looked at him sullenly
and crossed her arms over her breasts.
“Yes?” she demanded, sounding irate.

Snape
cleared his throat again, sucking in air gratefully. “Thank you for almost killing me, Miss O’Flannery,” he spat
contemptuously. “I see how you treat
intruders into your space; believe me when I say I won’t be making that mistake
again.”

“Go
bugger yer arse, Snape. I’ve got better
things t’ do than bandy words wi’ ye.”
She turned to go, but Snape called out her last name as though it were a
curse. She strode toward him until they
were within an arm’s length of each other.
They glared at each other with mutual hate.

“Miss, I
came to tell you I’m sorry about the other night. I didn’t know.” Snape’s
mouth was dry. Having to humble himself
to anyone was so degrading.

Aislinn
sneered, then spit on his shoe. “That’s
what I think o’ yer apology, Snape. Ye
didn’t know, did ye? Well if I had me
way, ye still wouldn’t know. By the
grace o’ God, ‘twas none o’ your fuckin’ business.”

Severus
was taken aback. She had the utter gall
to spit on him, when she had teased him since the beginning of the school year
with her silences? “Listen to me, you
fool. I don’t care if the entire
excremental isle that is Ireland raped you, when I offer an apology you accept
it, understand! I do not humble myself
to anyone, let alone anyone of your standards.
You lived as a fucking Muggle for Christ’s sake.”

Aislinn’s
face was twisted with rage. Her narrow
eyes became angry slits, and she bared her teeth as if she were a wild
animal. Snape noticed then that her
canines appeared unusually sharp, like those of a wildcat’s. There was pure and unbridled hate in her
expression.

He
couldn’t stop himself from continuing.
If she was going to be cruel, he could be just as spiteful. “I see your anger now. You hate me, and for a good reason. You wanted to be mysterious. You wanted to be adored for being the good
daughter, the one that didn’t turn. But
I can see it in your eyes. You want to
kill me, and that would make you no better than your family. If you had the chance, I’m sure you would do
the same to your daughter as was done to you.
You’re a fraud, O’Flannery.
A fucking fraud, and I’m here to make sure you remember that every
single day you continue to live at Hogwarts.”

She moved
to fast for him to do anything. A pain
exploded in his lower jaw and he staggered.
His head swung around, and he sprayed blood and spit as he tried to
regain his balance. He squinted. Flashes of light were bursting in his
head. The world was spinning. Snape reached up and touched the tip of his
tongue; his finger came away bloody. He
could scarcely believe what was going on.
“You-you hit me,” he said in disbelief.

O’Flannery
looked at him disdainfully. “If ye ever
mention what was done to me again, I’ll slit yee’re throat. D’ye unnerstand? No one would miss ye, and I have no qualms about it. If I’m so much like me family, then I could
do it wi’ a clear conscience.” She reached
out at patted his aching jaw, and hard.
“Watch yer back, Severus, because if I see ye make one wrong step,
then…” She drew her finger across her
throat like a knife, and promptly walked away, whistling a tune.

When she
was out of sight, Severus lowered himself to the grass. The sunlight was almost entirely gone, but
he needed to rest for a while before attempting the stairs. His eyes were still unfocused. The woman obviously had a strong fist. He continued to rub his jaw gingerly. He could feel it throbbing, and he knew
there would be a nasty swelling there in the morning. He spit out saliva and blood from where his teeth had clamped
down on the inside of his cheek. He ran
his tongue over the laceration and spat again.
Damn woman, he thought with less malice than he should really be
feeling.

In fact,
he was a bit startled at his own reactions.
He had come to apologize, and it had ended once again with a fight. At least this time he wasn’t taking
advantage of her. The bodiless voice
inside his head was talking again, something about him starting it.

“I bloody
well know,” he told it angrily. “But
listen to me, she should have accepted it.
It’s the only one I’ll offer.”
Snape shut up, realizing that talking to himself was never a good sign. It was embarrassing enough to be floored by
a woman, even a woman with a strong arm.

With one
arm on the ground and another out for balance, he raised himself to his
feet. The entire left side of his face
ached, and felt warm to the touch. His
anger toward O’Flannery was steadily increasing with each step he took towards
the old castle. How dare she! He had done nothing to provoke the
attack. Despite his words, she had been
the one to initially turn down his attempt at apology. And then she had tried to threaten his
life! Part of him dismissed it as
folly, but as much as he wanted to deny it the other half of him wondered if
she would really do it. He had no doubt
that with her heritage she was predisposed to violence. But at the same time, would she really
resort back to the brutality of her past, and the horrid bloodbath that had
been her childhood? He couldn’t really
understand it, nor did he want to try to.
Some things were just better left to confusion.

His face
stung horribly. As he meandered about
the hallways of Hogwarts, he tried to ignore the violence in the world around
him by losing himself in the thoughts of future lessons and glories. It seemed that as he got older his fantasies
no longer took on a sexual nature. Now,
they were more about recognition in a world that didn’t care, or achievements
he had yet to attain. At forty he was
completely celibate and wouldn’t have it any other way. To him, women were nothing more than
temptation when he needed nothing of the sort.
Unlike his one-time friend Lucius Malfoy, he did not measure success by
how many women he had bedded or virginities he had stolen. Of course there had been a time he felt like
that, but things changed. Now sex held
no allure for him. He had spent too
many nights with whores, too many Dark Revels taking what was not given. It left him feeling burned out and shallow.

By the
time he retired to his chambers, all daylight had fled from the sky. Stars were just beginning to twinkle in the
dark velvet night, and Snape stood at his window, rubbing his sore jaw and
watching clouds drift lazily across the moon.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the brandy decanter was empty, and
he cursed under his breath. He would
have to run into London tomorrow in order to buy some more. Good brandy was hardly something to live
without. Instead he went to his
bathroom and poured himself a glass of cold water, which he downed in one gulp. He could feel it hit his stomach and was
reminded he hardly ate anything that night.
Hunger would soon follow. The
night was not cold enough for a fire, but there was no doubt in his mind that
the upcoming winter would be one of frigid days and even colder nights.

Snape
turned from the window and drew the curtains, blocking out any light from
outside. Instead he lit a lamp and
stared as his face in a mirror. There
was a distinct swelling on his jaw that was turning a sickening shade of
purple. If decorum allowed it, he would
show O’Flannery the back of his hand, but he doubted it would solve anything,
except get him fired. He was already in
enough trouble to last him the next twenty years of his career.

He
stalked into the bathroom, all the while cursing the fates that had aligned to
make him a teacher. He ran cold water
from the faucet onto a towel and put it on his swelling jaw, flinching as he
applied pressure. There was no way in
hell he would go to Madame Pomfrey and risk having to explain his injury. No, he would just suffer in silence, and if
anyone asked he would not answer. There
was no use in further embarrassing himself.
A woman, he thought angrily.

The bed
called longingly. He was tired, and
there was much needed rest to be gotten.
Fortunately he had the luxury of sleeping in tomorrow. After a rest, he could get the brandy in
London, pick up some potion supplies, and plot on how to rid himself of his
nemesis. He sighed as he settled his
uninjured cheek into his pillow and closed his eyes. Sleep washed over him like a blanket, and with it came dreams of
blood, and something that looked like a child with his eyes.

*

Aislinn
had the need for music. She had been
practicing her guitar all day, but at the same time, she needed something more
calming, something more elegant. She
once more took to the outdoors, but this time she carried something in a black
case, much smaller than her two guitars.
She carried a bow, and when she reached the shores of the lake, she
stopped, putting the case down and unzipping it. Inside, there laid a shiny violin, polished to absolute perfection. She smiled and tightened the bow a bit
before picking up her fiddle and resting her chin on it.

The first
long sweep of the bow produced a sound neither high nor low. It was merely a perfect monotone on which
she gauged her playing. She moved her
fingers on the fingerboard, arranging different chords and testing her
strings. When she was sure everything
was tuned, she began with a slow tune, closing her eyes and swaying with the
music. Her bow moved faster and her
face was tight with concentration. The
notes cut through the still night air, and several birds twittered from their
nests.

Aislinn
opened her eyes slowly and she drew her bow across the strings slowly. She could hear screams in her head; she
could feel the blood rushing down her back and onto her bare legs. It wasn’t her fault. Daddy, don’t hurt me anymore. The song filled with anger and emotion. She pictured Severus Snape in her mind, and
she could feel her senses swimming with the Veritaserum. Her hand against his face. His lips on hers. Dreams. Her mutilated
back and her father’s face. tÁivé Máiria…

The violin fell from her grasp and
her knees buckled. Her lips parted in
an animal cry, long, low, and keening.
“Bail, O Dia, ar an obair,” she whimpered as her hands twisted in the
dirt by the lake’s shore. “Bail ar an
obair.”

Her voice trailed off. She knew what she must do. The violin was hastily packed with the bow,
and her robes flew behind her as she ran into the ancient castle and up the
stairs to her chamber. After two snaps
the door flew open, and a frightened orange tabby looked up at her with
luminous eyes.

“We must go, Bosún. There is no hope here for me.”

The cat meowed questioningly as
Aislinn hastily scribbled out a note and left it on her desk. It was probably childish, but for once she
didn’t care. For once she would let her
emotions guide her decision, rather than her hard-learned common sense. If she were to keep her sanity, she would
need to flee. She changed out of her
school robes and into jeans and a t-shirt, threw a few things into an old
satchel, picked up her cat, waited for Yankee Doodle to exit the chamber, and
closed her door. She didn’t bother to
reset wards; she would worry about her things later. For the moment, she just wanted to be gone.

With Bosún tucked under one arm and
her satchel across her shoulder she followed Yankee outside and into the pale
moonlight. Hagrid’s cottage looked
lonely at the edge of the woods, and Aislinn fought back the urge to pay him
one last visit. Instead she shook of
her nostalgia and, with strident steps, passed the through the gates that
marked the edge of Hogwarts’ grounds.

Aislinn O’Flannery stopped and set
the cat down. He hobbled about for a
bit before finally deciding to sit, and stared up at his mistress with large,
luminescent eyes. His tail flicked back
and forth nervously. Aislinn regarded
him with cool indifference. She thought
back, ticking off the places she could go.
She would not return to Cork. To
do that would be to face her past, something she didn’t quite think she was
ready for. She hadn’t been back since
she had graduated from Hogwarts. The
flat in London had sold; Lupin had no permanent residence. Her thoughts turned back to friends, and one
name in particular stood out in her mind.
Fionnuala MacAoidhigán. That is
where she would find safety.

She whistled through pursed lips,
and Yankee Doodle drifted down to her upraised wrist. The satchel’s strap passed between her breasts, and she picked up
Bosún before closing her eyes. She
concentrated hard, focusing on the energy surrounding her body. She was light; she was nothing more than
air. It seemed the air around her
picked up, whistling around her as if she was standing in the middle of a
gale. She gripped her cat tighter, but
Yankee Doodle still sat calm on her wrist.
He was used to this, after all.

With a loud crack, it was over as
quickly as it had begun. Aislinn
staggered slightly upon taking her first step, but quickly regained her
balance. Her eagle turned loose,
soaring above her head, and Bosún wriggled in her arms. She set him down as a child about four years
old rushed out from behind the house.
He seemed perplexed for a moment, but was soon off and running.

“Mummy!” he screamed, tearing off in
the direction he came from. “There’s
someone outside to see you!”

Aislinn whistled and her eagle
soared lower over her head. She waited
for her cat to stand before taking a step forward towards the cottage. A woman with floury white hands and flame-red
hair peeked through a window, a large smile spreading across her face. She didn’t even bother to shut the door
behind her. Instead she ran across the
field separating the cottage from the path, her bare feet kicking up grass.

“Fionnuala!” Aislinn shouted, and
embraced her old friend.

The woman returned the
greeting. “Cén chaoi a bhfuil tú?” she
asked as she pushed a stray piece of hair out of her face, leaving a floury
trail across her cheek.

“Good as I can be with an ass for a
co-worker and a devil sitting on my back,” she replied in Gaelic, eliciting a
raised eyebrow from Fionnuala. “I’ll
tell you more about it later, but for now, we speak of happy things. How are the children?”

The small child that had heralded
Aislinn’s arrival was peeking out of a window.
She knew there were five more inside, the youngest no older than half a
year. In response, Fionnuala beckoned
with her finger. “Come inside the
house,” she said. “It’s warmer, and the
wind doesn’t cut so deep.”

Aislinn followed her friend, passing
into the cottage that smelled of warmth and bread. The three older children were clustered around the hearth, one of
them was holding a tiny baby that gurgled and cooed. The other two were nowhere to be seen.

“Aoife, Maighread, do you remember
Aislinn?” Fionnuala asked and were met with nods. Hellos were muttered, and Aislinn turned to the lone boy among
the girls. He hefted the baby to his
chest protectively. “Arrah, Kevin,
don’t kill the wee child,” she admonished jokingly. The boy smiled and held out the baby. Aislinn took her, cradling the tiny thing in her arms. “What’s her name?” she asked softly,
stroking the baby’s cheek.

“My husband decided on Maeve,
although I wanted to call her Eileen.
She’s almost five months now. It’s
hard to believe that only half a year ago I was the size of a boulder.” Almost without thinking she pulled a wand
out of her waistband and waved it at the oven door. It opened, revealing three fresh loaves of soda bread. “Aoife, could you get those?” she asked
offhandedly.

Aislinn smiled. “It’s so different seeing a normal family
again,” she quipped to her friend. “I’m
used to children now, but without parents they seem a bit different.” She shook her head. “I still can’t believe you have six.”

Fionnuala smiled. “It’s work, I can tell you. But I love them all. Aoife will be heading to Hogwarts next year,
God willing. Speaking of Hogwarts,
Aislinn Ríonach, is that why you’re here?”
Fionnuala rested her chin on her hands and tilted her head, meaning she
was listening. She had done that ever
since Aislinn first met her so many years ago.

“I don’t really know, ‘Nuala. I needed a place to escape to, not
necessarily yours. But I came here
because I know I’m welcome, and unlike Saoirse, you’d actually be home. I just don’t know what I should be doing
now.” Aislinn continued speaking,
explaining the entire situation to her friend as the baby slept in her arms.

When she was finished, Fionnuala sat
back for a moment, pulling on a lock of her short hair. “Well, my dear, I have no problem with
putting you up for as long as you need it until you can sort through your
little problem. I could always use an
extra hand with the children, and Lord knows Declan wouldn’t mind. I’ll put you in the guest room. And of course, eagles and cats are
welcome.” Fionnuala smiled and held out
her arms. “I think someone needs dinner
and then bed.”

Aislinn left the kitchen as
Fionnuala fed her youngest daughter, and climbed the stairs to the room where
she would be staying for an unknown amount of time. She knew the cottage well; in fact Fionnuala and her husband
Declan were two of her closest friends.
The other, Saoirse, was probably on holiday in France simply to be on
holiday, and Lupin was filling in for her at Hogwarts. She couldn’t help but wonder what everyone
was doing now. They were probably
sleeping tight in their beds, which is what I should be doing now, she thought. She kicked off her shoes and went through
the ritual of changing into nightclothes before opening the window to let
Yankee Doodle out. Bosún was curled up
at her feet, and she stretched one last time before relaxing. She was already feeling better.

*

It seemed final. She was gone, she had quit the grounds last
night and no one, and no one had any idea where she had vanished. Harry Potter shrugged his shoulders with a
sigh and clasped his head with his arms.
It had been a horrible week, and it was only Sunday. Fortunately, Aislinn’s substitute for the
time being was an old friend, Remus Lupin.
He had been the Defense professor in Harry’s third year, and was looking
even more haggard than usual.

That morning, Dumbledore had made
the announcement that Professor O’Flannery had filed her resignation papers,
but had mysteriously disappeared after speaking with Professor Snape Saturday
night. Professor Lupin was to be taking
her place until either she returned or a full-time professor could be
found.

Overall, Harry was happy with the
change. Lupin was a friend of both his
and his father’s, and he got along with the werewolf delightfully. After all, it was he that taught Harry to
ward off Dementors with a Patronus charm.
Harry was just waiting for the right moment to approach him and start a
conversation.

Hermione and Ron had said little
that day. Hermione, of course, was busy
studying for Charms, but Ron was dejected and hadn’t come out of the Gryffindor
common room since breakfast.

“Come on, Ron, you have to get out
and do something today. You
can’t just sit around moping until things change,” Harry pleaded, trying to get
his friend active. “Let’s go talk to
Lupin.”

Ron shook his head. “No deal, mate. I’m trying to wrap my head around everything. It’s so bloody confusing right now, and it
hurts my head.”

Harry nodded and promptly left. Ron’s dismal mood was affecting him as well,
and for once he didn’t want to be trapped inside on a perfectly gorgeous
day. There was a slight wind ruffling
the trees, but it was neither too warm nor too cold. It was a quintessential October day, and Harry was determined to
spend it outside.

Suddenly, an idea came to him. He turned and dashed back into his dormitory
and up the steps, grabbing his broomstick from where he had left it from
Quidditch practice the last few days.
In no time he was by the playing field and in the air, soaring around
like he had no cares in the world. He
began doing quick cutting moves through the air and progressed on to elaborate
spins and acrobatic tricks, all the while speeding along at a breakneck pace.

When Harry glanced down, he saw a
lone figure in the bleachers, clapping wildly.
Harry grinned, recognizing it as Professor Lupin. He zoomed down back to terra firma
and alighted from his broom. Lupin
stood as well and came down to meet Harry on the playing field. He was grinning as well.

“Well hello, Harry Potter, my young
friend,” the professor said, pushing a stray hair out of his face.

“It’s nice to see you again,
Professor. I had been wondering when
I’d hear from you.” Harry extended his hand,
but Lupin pulled him into a friendly hug.

“Well, you’re hearing from me
now. I’m back for the time being at
Dumbledore’s orders. The former
Professor O’Flannery is out for the time being, getting her bearings.” Lupin shrugged.

Harry scratched his head. “I don’t really get it, Professor. Everyone here with the exception of Malfoy
and his cronies loves her. Why did she
leave, and where did she go?” Harry
raised a questioning eyebrow. “Are you
friends with her?”

“Harry, I think you and I are in for
a chat. Come on, we can head back to
the castle for a good talk.”

“I don’t really want to go in yet,
Professor. Do you want to go sit by the
lake instead? The weather’s nice
enough.”

Lupin nodded, and Harry shouldered
his broomstick as he followed he professor.
They found a shady spot at the lake’s shore and settled down, Harry
laying on the ground and Lupin resting his back against a tree trunk.

“I don’t really know where to start,
Harry. I don’t know where Aislinn’s
gone, but I have a pretty good idea it’s somewhere in Ireland. She has tons of little haunts on that
island, you know, places she’ll go when she needs to unwind. If she gets over stressed, I’ve known her to
disappear for days, sometimes even weeks.
She always comes back though, so even though she’s submitted her
resignation, I have no doubt my stint here in only temporary. You can’t keep the woman away for
long.” Lupin paused, smiling at some
fond memory Harry wasn’t privy to.
“She’s a wonderful woman, Harry.
A bit flighty, but wonderful nonetheless.”

Harry nodded. “I know, Professor. She’s a good asset to the school. Did she tell you she’s going to tell me
about being an Auror?” he asked.

Lupin shook his head. “No, but she might not be the best person to
ask. Oh, she knows the skills as well
as anyone, but as an Auror she was ostracized, hated, if you may. No one is really sure where her allegiance
lies.”

“I know,” Harry said proudly. “I saw it in her head. She’s one of us, Professor. It wasn’t her fault the Death Eaters used
her like that!”

Lupin shook his head again. “I know as well as you do she hates
Voldemort, boy. But Death Eaters didn’t
just use her. In case you’ve
forgotten, her parents were Death Eaters.”
Lupin’s eyes blazed with contained anger, holding Harry’s with
intensity. “Do you know what they did
to her?”

Harry looked shocked. “Her parents?” he asked
incredulously. “Her parents did
that to her?”

Lupin nodded. “Not directly, but I guess you could say
they sacrificed her to it. Both she and
her sister were sacrificial lambs because they wouldn’t take the Dark Mark.”

“Is that why she left?” Harry asked.

The answer did not come
quickly. Lupin pondered, running his
hands through his graying hair and sighing.
His eyes shifted left and right, and his back slumped against the trunk
of the tree. “She left because she was
betrayed by someone. She guards her
past delicately and safely, Harry.
Don’t ever forget that.” With
that, Lupin stood and extended a hand.
Harry took it and stood, once again shifting his broomstick up onto his
shoulder.

“I won’t,” Harry muttered as he
followed his professor inside. If there
was something he could be trusted with, it was her secrets. He had no doubt who it was that had betrayed
her: Snape. Perhaps that was why he was
out in the hallway so late at night.
Harry longed to know what he had done, but for once he realized maybe it
wasn’t his business.
- 6
- 7
- 8
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

DamhsaÃ­ Naofa is DiamhaslaÃ­

DamhsaÃ Naofa is DiamhaslaÃ