Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Slanaighear Ofrail An Seangharra	By : pittwitch Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 5226 -:- 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
3/14/08: Un-beta'd version.

~*~
Burying the Past
~*~

“Orra.” The twinkling eyes of the former Headmaster registered concern for the woman heaped on the office floor, and her bundle, which had fallen to the rug next to her.

“Jaysus! How did you get stuck in there?” Incredulously, she shook her head while scrabbling back to her feet.
“Oh, dear Orra, I’m not stuck in here. I assure you I passed on. This is just a little quirk of the wizarding world -- a talking portrait.”

“Damn,” Orra swore incredulously while poking a finger at the frame with a hint of trepidation..

“What are you going to do with those?” Albus pointed at the bundle of Snape’s Death Eater robes and mask.

“It has to be blessed then buried on sacred ground.” Orra still peered at the portrait as though Albus had somehow sprouted three heads.

“Headmaster?” Bill interrupted.

“Mr. Weasley?” Albus redirected his attention to the redheaded man.

“Who is this?” Bill pointed at Orra.

“Never you mind, Mr. Weasley. Just trust her. Time is of the essence is it not, Orra?”

“Aye. This should be done at high noon for the best results.”

“Bill, you will go with Orra. You will also swear to me …”

“Swear what?” exclaimed Bill, angrily interrupting Albus quite rudely.

“You will swear to keep everything and anything you learn about Miss Orra as a secret.” The oil painting Albus peered imperiously over his half-moon spectacles at his former student who shook his head defiantly.

“No, Professor, you really need to explain things more.” Bill shook his head, glaring at his former Headmaster.

“No, Bill. You need to trust my judgment.” Albus’ tone dismissed any further argument.

Orra stood watching the man argue with a painting disbelievingly.

“Albus, I don’t think I should take him with me,” she interjected motioning towards Bill. “There are things I prefer to keep …”

“Orra, I have to ask you the same thing -- to trust me. Bill is a gifted wizard. He will be able to protect you from unexpected events.”

“I don’t need protecting, Albus,”complained Orra with a stomp of her foot for emphasis.

“May I remind you of how and when we met?” Albus peered out with equal harshness shared with Bill. Orra’s lip curled into an angry sneer. “Ms. O’Shea?” He called her name forcefully, bringing her consciousness back to the present. She started and re-focused her gaze on Dumbledore once more. After only a moment’s more hesitation, she folded.

“Yes, sir.” Orra acquiesced reluctantly. “We best be going now, then.” She peered around the hearth. “Where do you keep your flue powder stuff?

“Here.” Bill handed her the urn.

“Rectory Cottage, St. Jude’s Parish, Shanagarry.” Orra called into the rising green flames. She picked up her package and stepped into the fireplace. Bill quickly followed. Voices from all the other portraits accosted Dumbledore as the two whooshed out of earshot.

“Just who the bloody hell was that muggle woman, Albus?”

“No ordinary muggle, Phineas. Be assured of that.”

Orra stumbled out of the fireplace, a cloud of soot following her as well as the redheaded pony-tailed Bill Weasley. Kellyn leapt to her feet, knife in one hand, and phone in the other.

“Jaysus! Orrs, what the feck?” Kellyn grabbed Orra by one sooty arm, and yanked her behind the table and her own body, defending her against the intruder.

“Relax the cacks, Kellyn. He ain’t no threat.” Orra griped, yanking her arm free. “The gardai watching me still?”

Bill stood staring at Kellyn, his hands held wide trying to look non-threatening.

“Aye, yeah, they be over on the main road waiting for ya to leave.” Kellyn turned her focus to her friend.

“Damn! They’ll be following us for sure.”

“Following us where exactly?” Kellyn asked confusion quite evident on her face and in her voice.

“To the stones.” Orra stamped her foot in irritation. “I need something to distract them.”

“Why are we going to the stones?” Kellyn ventured to ask, her dark eyes wide in astonishment.

“What stones? Bill chimed in.

“To bury this.” Orra grinned at her old friend wickedly. “Here, hold it.” Orra dumped the wool lump in her friend’s arms. She disappeared into the kitchen, and clomped down the basement steps quite noisily. “Don’ go unwrappin’ it either!” she yelled back up the steps.

“And just who might you be?” Kellyn eyed up the strange man distrustfully.

“My name is Bill Weasley. And you are?” Bravely, he took a deep breath, extending his hand in a hopeful and friendly manner.

“Kellyn Byrne.” The dark haired woman eyed him suspiciously. She quickly took note of his wedding band, and the wicked looking scars on his face. “Married are ya?” She asked harshly.

“Yes.” Bill tried not to look at her suspiciously. She still held that knife after all.

A definitely pleased grin lit Kellyn’s face as she studied the muscular man. “Don’t happen to have any brothers do ya?”

Bill’s eyebrows rose in amazement. “Why?”

“Just wondering if there’s any more built like you.” Kelly eyed him appreciatively, licking her lips, and lowering the glinting knife.

“Erm, built like me?” He queried hesitantly.

“Yeah, built.” Kellyn snorted as she stepped closer, still cradling the package in one arm. “Built to please,” she whispered huskily.

Bill stuffed his hand into his pocket to hide his telltale tremble. Kellyn’s smoldering eyes burned through to his very soul. He stuffed both hands deeper in his pockets, trying to make some protective room.

“Well, up until recently I had five,” he answered cautiously.

“Whaddaya mean, you had five?” Warning bells were going off for Kellyn. She stepped back a bit.

“I lost one brother not too long ago,” Bill replied sadly. Kellyn sensed his fresh grief just underneath the surface of his skin, threatening to rise and consume them both.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Kellyn’s professional manner took over. She even sheathed the knife, tucking it safely in the back waist of her jeans. Orra tromped back into the room, wielding a shovel, and now more appropriately dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, sturdy boots on her feet.

“Well, I suppose you two have come to some sort of truce?” She queried of her friend and her redheaded escort.

“A sort,” Bill answered.

“What are we doing with that again?” Kellyn pointed to the package and Orra’s shovel.

“We’re going to bless it, then bury it on sacred ground.” Orra stared at her friend in aggravation. “It would be best if we could get Aideen out here, three of us to bless it you know,” she pondered aloud. “Or, get to the stone circle.” Orra chewed the corner of her lip thoughtfully as she studied Bill Weasley more closely.

“The gardai’s hackles will certainly rise if’n Aideen skates along out here,” Kellyn added doubtfully. “He’ll have to do.” She jerked her head in Bill’s direction. “And, we’ll have to use the other circle. I think there’s even a garda at the church still, just hoping for Richard to make an appearance.”

“Damn it all. Almost forgot about Richard. Haven’t seen him have ya?” Orra jiggled her foot in aggravation, still obviously weighing her options.

“No, but that doesn’t mean he won’t stumble in here.”

“I don’t think so this time, Kellyn. The last time he turned up as a bloody mess, I read him the riot act. He’s probably still burned up about it.”

“Serves him right. Needs to stop stirring the pot, that one.” Kellyn snorted in consternation. “So are we going to use pony-tail boy or what?” She pointed at Bill.

Orra sighed, shifting the package in her arms. “Well, he is a wizard –like Albus -- not our kind of magic,” Orra finally concluded. Bill glowered at Kellyn. ‘Just give me a chance, I’ll show you I’m no boy.’ His thoughts were plain to read on his angry face, slashed as it was by his battle scars.

“He’s a wizard? Like Albus?” Kellyn asked in amazement, a new glimmer glowing in her eyes.

“Like Snape, too, I imagine,” Orra added as she stared curiously at Bill.

“Yes, I am a wizard. What do you two mean, ‘your kind of magic’?” The man glared at the two women.

“We don’t have time for those sorts of explanations. Let’s go.”

Orra spun around, dragging her shovel behind her. She paused at her desk to pick up a small glass vial and then continued with the utmost assurance that the other two would follow her.

Kellyn motioned Bill to follow Orra. The odd trio stepped out the back door of the stone cottage, crossed the gravel drive, and headed purposefully for the woods.

They tromped along in silence. Bill found himself rushing to keep up with Orra’s surefooted strides over the narrow path. They finally exited the shadowed green of the trees into a wide, circular clearing, the sun nearly directly overhead, beaming down at them. Orra marched directly to the center where she set down her package, with the vial on top.

All business, she plunged the blade of the shovel into the ground, apparently at dead center of the circle. She broke out in a sweat, as the other two stood by watching her, sharing concerned glances behind her back. When she paused, and rested her hands on the handle, Bill stepped up, taking the shovel and proceeding to deepen the hole.

“How far down, Orra?” He huffed with the exertion.

“About three feet,” she answered assuredly, peering into the hole across from him.

“Exactly how do you know this?” Bill queried as he wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve.

“Oi, man, its common sense.” Kellyn stared at the shiny man in consternation. “Give me the shovel.” She held out her hand and took her turn digging. Finally, as the sun neared its apex, Orra deemed the hole satisfactory. She settled the wool-covered mask in the bottom, then sprinkled the holy water over it. Steam rose from the package as she chanted, “In nomine Patris, et Filii et Spiritus, sancti. Amen.”

Orra turned and handed the vial to Kellyn who repeated her words, consecrating the package by her own hand before handing the crystal to Bill. The words of the signum crucis spilled quite naturally from his lips.

Orra took the shovel and began to bury Snape’s former accoutrements. She moved with a speed and determination that seemed to grow with each shovel full of dirt that thudded down into the hole. She was sweating freely when she finally relinquished the shovel to Bill who finished the burial. He handed the shovel back to Orra who laid it on the ground. She reached for Kellyn’s and Bill’s hands. The three of them formed a circle around the hole. Kellyn and Orra prayed together, “Gloria Patri et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto. Sicut erat in principio et nunc et semper et in saecula saeculorum.” Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, and now, and always, and unto the ages of ages.

Orra and Kellyn raised their eyes to the heavens. They seemed to look straight into the sun as they implored, “Fiat voluntas Dei.” May God’s will be done.

Bill’s ears were unaccustomed to hearing the Latin phrasings, but, he caught enough of the words to think they were incanting a type of spell. When they released his hands, he waved his wand over the fresh-turned dirt, speaking his own incantation clearly, “Egressus haud vestigium.” Leave no trace.

The ground moved of its own accord, and the grass grew until the patch over the hole was indistinguishable from the remainder of the clearing.

“Nice work, wizard.” Kellyn clapped him on the back as she turned and headed back for the path. This time she carried the shovel over her shoulder. Orra dropped to one knee, placing an outstretched over the ground. Bill watched curiously, as she whispered, almost inaudibly, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, return from whence you came.” She closed her eyes, bowed her head, kissed the ground then blessed herself before rising. High in the trees, a carrion crow cawed in approval then took to the skies. Orra met Bill Weasley’s look dead on, challenging him to mock her.

“Good work, Orra,” he mumbled appreciatively even if still a bit confused. They both turned for the path.

“Where did you learn Latin?” Orra asked conversationally as they strolled at a more leisurely pace through the dappled green of the trees.

“Most of our spells are Latin-based,” Bill answered her.

“Oh, that’s understandable then. But, how the bloody hell did you know about St. Jude?”

“Ah!” Bill chuckled. “Curse-breaker specialty course. There are some wizards who like to misappropriate the muggle religious icons.”

“Hmmph.” Orra snorted, “Figures.” She stepped lightly over a fallen log. “Now explain this muggle nonsense.”

“How is that you know about wizards and such, but don’t know about muggles, and the Floo?”

“We only know what we learned at my mum’s knee, and that Albus cared to explain.”

“Your mum was a witch?” Bill stopped her with a hand on her arm. She halted and turned to face him.

“Not like you mean. She was more Wiccan. Believed that everything has its own magic.”

“Oh!” Understanding dawned on Bill’s face. “Wiccan magic. Doesn’t that get you in trouble with the church?” Curiosity lit his blue eyes with a gleam.

“Oh, most definitely.” Orra chuckled. “But, we believe everything is a gift from God.” She tugged him forward on the patch by his hand just as Kellyn stomped angrily back around the bend.

“Are you two coming or what?”

“Yeah, yeah, move along, Missy.” Orra tromped after her friend, smiling with her own private sense of accomplishment.
- 6
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- 8
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Slanaighear Ofrail An Seangharra