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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
November had
blown in with fury, downing three huge trees and blanketing Britain with sheets
of cold rain. It was obvious winter
weather had finally arrived, and Severus’ spirits were rising. O’Flannery was gone, and it looked like it
was for good. It had been three weeks
since she had disappeared, and no word had come to his now coworker, Remus
Lupin. The werewolf had been watching
him nonstop lately, as if trying to watch him make one wrong step. Lupin had refrained from bringing up the
circumstances of Aislinn’s departure, but Snape could see the question tickling
at his brain. In fact, the only thing
the Defense teacher had said to him at all was “That’s a beautiful bruise,
Severus,” and smiled. Snape inwardly
seethed, but the shiner had almost disappeared, so now it was a moot point.

At
that moment Snape was prowling the hallways as part of his patrol for the month
of November, a punishment laid out by Albus.
Although O’Flannery had left, Dumbledore refused to relent on hallway
patrols or refund the pay taken out of his salary. The apology was seemingly forgotten.

Snape
grumbled to himself as he remembered the smack the woman had given him. For two weeks he had sported a big purple
bruise on his jaw, painful and swollen.
He had refused to go see Madame Pomfrey; instead he chose to suffer in
silence. When someone asked, he simply
pretended he didn’t hear them. Better
someone’s enmity than a wounded pride.

Snape
turned a corner and something flicked at the corner of his eye. He spun, looking into a corridor. “Lumos,” he commanded, and his wandtip
flared into light. He peered into the
darkness, and two luminescent eyes stared back at him. “Oh, it’s you,” he said, addressing the
creature. “Where’s Filch?”

The
cat meowed imploringly, and rubbed herself up against Severus’ legs. He stepped back, trying to shoo her
away. “Get gone, Mrs. Norris,” he said,
swooshing his hands at her. She ignored
him and sat on her haunches as her caretaker, Argus Filch, rounded the
corner. He tipped his head at Snape.

“Good
evening,” Snape replied a bit caustically.
He had never really liked Filch, despite their equal dislike of
children. The man was a Squib, and that
indicated poor breeding.

“Good
evenin,’” Filch replied glibly. “I
don’t see nothin’ out of order in the hallways, sir. Seems all the kids is in bed on a night like this.”

Snape
nodded. “Thank you,” he said, and then
headed off down the hallway, leaving the Squib and his cat behind. Instead of billowing, he walked slowly,
contemplating life in general and the homework to be given the following
day. Somewhere he heard a clock chime
eleven, and the Potions professor sighed.
Another hour of this, and then he could retire to his bed, where he at
least had something to keep him warm.
He turned another corner, descended a flight of stairs, and decided to
prowl about the kitchens, where perhaps he could get a hot cup of tea off of
the house elves.

Footfalls
sounded behind him. Snape froze and
drew his wand, spinning around silently only to collide with Remus J. Lupin in
a traveling cloak and boots. Snape
picked himself up off the floor and dusted himself off while Lupin
chuckled. “I don’t see what’s so funny
about a late night collision, Remus,” Snape hissed.

Lupin
was still sitting on the floor, giggling.
“It’s funny because, dear Severus, you’re the very person I was looking
for.”

Snape
cocked an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

Lupin
nodded. “Yes indeed. I was outside having a brief conversation
with a friend of mine and thought of you.
So I came to find you and ask you if you wanted to join me for a cup of
tea in the kitchens.” Lupin stood. “So?”

Snape’s
head reeled in confusion. A
friend? Outside, in this weather? “I’m afraid I’ll have to pass on the
invitation Remus. I have other things
to do rather than spend my time playing in the rain.”

Lupin
shrugged, despite the flicker of anger in his eyes. “Your loss.” The werewolf
trotted off to the kitchens, leaving a trail of muddy footprints behind him.

By
now, Snape’s curiosity was piqued. He
began following Lupin’s footprints, and found they leaded to a door exiting the
castle. Snape paused, thought for a
minute, and decided it couldn’t hurt anything.
He pushed the heavy oak door open quietly and stuck his head out into
the drizzle. His eyes flicked left and
right. There was nothing. “Lumos maxima,” he whispered, and his
wandtip lit up brilliantly. For the
second time that night he was greeted with two luminescent pinpricks in the
dark. Snape groaned. “Filch is going to be furious with you, cat. You’ll be wet and muddy.” However, his words froze in his throat as
the creature moved forward into the light.

It
was lynx, well muscled and tall. Snape
had never seen one of them on the grounds of Hogwarts before, so he looked at
it suspiciously before stepping out of the safety of the doorway and into the
cold English rain. His polished shoes
made sucking noises as they sank slightly into the mud, and Severus cursed
it. The cat, however, didn’t seem
troubled by the dank conditions. As
Snape watched, it twitched its tiny stump of a tail and flicked its ears,
baring its teeth in a grin. Snape held
his wand out in front of him, hoping to blind the animal. The cat merely lowered its head and started
forward again. By this time it was
three feet from the professor, and he was feeling a little cowed.

The
lynx stopped, glared at Snape with huge green eyes, and began hacking. Snape made to retreat, but not before the
cat had unloaded a wad of spit on the corner of his robe. It turned and promptly fled, leaving the
professor alone in the rain.

Snape
was seething and wet, but he walked with determination towards the
library. Pictures shouted angrily at
him to put the light out, but he waved them off with a rude gesture brought on
by anger. The cogs in his head were
turning rapidly. No regular wildcat
would approach a human, and no regular wildcat would hock snot. If anything, that was a human habit. This had not been the first time an Animagus
had prowled the grounds of the school, and now all that was needed was to
identify who it was.

All
the registered Animagus’ were listed in a large book kept in the library. There was a possibility the animal could be
unregistered, but that would carry a large fine and perhaps a prison term. Lupin’s words tickled at his brain. “I was having a brief conversation with a
friend outside…” He thought back on
members of the Order, but nothing really stuck out in his mind.

The
book was heavy in his hands, and but sometimes the cost of information was a little
effort. He was reminded of his early
morning foray into the library a month and a half earlier, where he had learned
of O’Flannery’s background and thus implicated himself in the plot that led him
to his current situation. He shook his
head longingly. The past could not be
undone.

“I
was having a brief conversation with a friend outside…you’re the very person I
was looking for…”

Something
about Lupin’s words unsettled him.
Severus had an itching feeling that the lynx would turn out to be
someone he didn’t want to hear from, but he steeled himself and opened the
book. The “chapters” where alphabetized
by animal name, and Snape flipped to L’s and ran his finger to the subheading
“Lynx.” About thirty names were listed,
along with locations and descriptions of the animals. Snape’s eyes scanned the pages, looking for a familiar name. Suddenly, it jumped out at him.

“O’Flannabhra,
Aislinn Ríonach. Green-eyed lynx with
winged spot design on back.”

There
was his answer. No wonder the cat had
approached him. That was the second
time she had spat on him, and he wasn’t about to allow a third. In the morning he would go straight to
Dumbledore’s office to report an Animagus prowling the grounds. Hopefully something would be done, and the
woman would be prosecuted for trespassing.

He wondered what she and Lupin were
discussing. It was probably her current
location and future prospects, but her sudden appearance disturbed him. He had almost forgotten about his precarious
position, but the lynx’s identity planted it in his mind once more. Snape sighed angrily. It was the things like this that disturbed
his peace of mind, if he even had any of that left. Everything was tearing at his senses: O’Flannery, the
unpredictable nature of Voldemort, teaching incapable students,
everything. He cursed underneath his
breath as he opened the door to his rooms.
It was not yet midnight, but he had decided to retire early, hall patrols
or not. Fifteen minutes would not alter
the course of the world.

Snape slipped out of his teaching
robes, hanging them neatly in a closet.
He sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his temples. He needed a warm shower and perhaps a
snifter or five of good brandy, something that would scald away the sick
feeling at the back of his throat. He
was turning into an alcoholic, but he didn’t care. He was past the point of denial.
He was fully aware of what he was doing. As long as it didn’t interfere with his teaching duties, he was
fine with his own private addiction.

*

Aislinn O’Flannery had apparated to
the gates of Hogwarts before turning into her lynx form. Hopefully she would not be seen by anyone of
consequence. She doubted Dumbledore
would have a problem with it, but she was supposed to be collecting her
thoughts, not running around the grounds without anyone’s knowledge. There was only one person who knew of her
coming tonight, and that was Remus Lupin.
She had sent him a letter the other day via Yankee Doodle, telling him
that she was coming to visit, and to look for a lynx outside the south exit by
the kitchens.

She padded silently through the
grass, stopping when she heard Fang’s familiar bark. She highly doubted it would wake Hagrid, so she continued. The dew was damp on her paws, and she flexed
her claws just to feel the musculature in her cat arms. She tried to grin, but only managed a
grimace. Cat faces were just not made
to show emotion.

She reached the south exit and sat
down to wait, flicking the stump of her tail.
It would probably be around ten forty-five; so all students should be in
their dormitories and not prowling hallways.
She felt safe for the first time in a long time. Her weeks spent at Fionnuala’s had been
incredibly calming. It felt different
peeling potatoes over a trashcan after poring over lesson plans for two months,
but it was a welcome change. The
children were delightful, and Declan was happy for the help. Aislinn had mended fences, herded sheep, and
ridden a cranky horse around in freezing Irish rain. It was like she was a child again with no responsibilities.

She lay down on the dew soaked
grass, resting her head on her paws.
She thought back to her childhood in Cork, and the laziness that came
with being a child of privilege. Her
early years had been placid and happy.
Her mother had doted on her, buying her random gifts and dressing her up
in expensive silk dresses. Then her
younger sister was born and Bean Mhi had two girls to cherish. Aislinn’s father Alastair was away from home
frequently, but when he did return he always brought exotic presents for his
three beloved children. Richard, her
brother, had been a fine figure of a boy before he turned thirteen, and would
often play with her in a fort down by the stream.

Aislinn would often look at him,
tilt her chin upwards and imitate her mother, saying “Bí i do bhuachaill maith”
with the same authority Bean Mhi possessed.
Her brother had merely laughed and ignored her, dunking her in the cold
water all the same. They had two
ponies, a cat, and two Irish wolfhounds, and Aislinn was always finding small
animals to bring home and “nurse back to health.” When the Revels took place, Aislinn would parade in front of the
assembled Death Eaters like a queen, earning many approving looks and wistful
sighs. Voldemort himself had chucked
her under the chin, calling her a perfect angel.

It had all started to change when
her brother took the Dark Mark. He
became reclusive, and when Aislinn began to menstruate her father had come to
her, demanding she become a Death Eater.
Aislinn had refused, not really understanding the magnitude of her
decision, and then the abuse had begun.
It didn’t stop until she fled home at eighteen. Then her real life had begun, and it had led
her here, sneaking around the grounds of her former school to meet an old
friend in secrecy. If only things had
gone better. She loved teaching, but
the taint on the school couldn’t be lifted.
Severus Snape had ruined it for her.

A rustle in the grass behind caused
her to spin around, and she sat back on her haunches as Lupin’s face smiled
down at her. “I should have known you’d
come like this,” he said, carrying a blanket under his arm.

Aislinn resumed her human form,
wrapping the blanket around her naked body.
Her clothes had been shed at the gates as she changed into the
lynx. An animal just couldn’t wear
clothes made for humans. “Thank ye,
Remus, my dear. It’s dreadful cold t’
be out here wi’out clothes.” She
chuckled.

“You really shouldn’t be here at
all, Aislinn. I’m afraid you’ll get
caught. It could be considered
trespassing, or even a threat to students.”

Aislinn rolled her eyes. “Stop the bullshite, Moony. I’m as much a threat as that blade o’ grass
there.” She pointed. “How’s the classes wi’out me there?” she
asked, feeling the familiar twinge of pain in the back of her throat. How she hated being denied!

“Everyone misses you, Aislinn. Will you come back?”

Aislinn rubbed her chin. “I have yet t’ decide. I want to, but Snape’s still here, and I
don’t think I’d ever get along wi’ him.
Not after what ‘e did t’ me.
Anyway, I sent ye th’ letter to let ye know I’ll be playin’ a show with
Rob and Geoff this comin’ weekend in London.
I’d like ye t’ stop by. Take a
day off. Have a good time wi’ me.” She smiled.

Lupin sighed. “I don’t know, Aislinn. I’d need time to think about it.”

Aislinn crossed her arms over her
chest, looking exasperated. “What is
there t’ think about? You either come,
or y’ don’t. Not too difficult is
it?” There was a biting anger in her
voice, and she tried to chase it down.

“Aislinn, there’s no reason to get
testy about it. I’d love to come, and I
probably will. It’s just a matter of
finding time in a busy day. And, next
Saturday is a full moon, in case you’ve forgotten.” Lupin matched attitude with attitude, and hoped he would come out
winning. Aislinn merely sneered.

“So take that potion Snape concocts
for ye. Ye should be fine then, right?”

Lupin nodded.

“So, it’s settled,” said Aislinn
triumphantly. “Ye’ll take the potion,
and then come to the show Saturday. We
can stay in th’ Leaky Cauldron till Sunday and apparate back. Ye won’t be missed.”

Lupin nodded again. “That should work. But now, tell me something.
Where have you been staying, and what have you been up to?” the werewolf
asked, his genuine curiosity showing in his voice.

“With Fionnuala,” Aislinn
answered. “I’ve been doin’ a lot o’
farm tasks and takin’ care o’ the children.”
A wistful look came into her eyes.
“God, how I miss a normal life.
Have ye ever wondered, Remus, what things would be like if ye had been
born normal, or at least raised that way?”

Lupin thought for a moment. “Yes and no. I often wonder what it’s like not to be a werewolf, but I think a
normal, Muggle life would be incredibly boring. I can understand the desire in your case, though. Perhaps if you had been born normal you
wouldn’t have what you have.”

Aislinn smiled at her friend
lovingly. “But I have people like ye,
Remus, that make life worth livin.’
Without ye, I wouldn’t be here.”
She embraced him suddenly and quickly, planting a swift kiss on his
lips.

They stood, encircled in each
other’s arms, and gazed into each other’s eyes. Aislinn saw fear and concern in her friend’s, and rested her head
on his shoulder. “I’ll be fine,
Remus. Don’t ye worry about me own well
being. I’ll get things sorted out soon
enough, and ye’ll see, I’ll be back.”

Lupin held her close to him, rocking
her gently. “I love you, Aislinn,” he
whispered before letting her go and retreating back inside the castle.

Aislinn was left alone, and quickly
changed back into the wildcat form, the blanket wrapped around her body falling
to the ground. She stretched, trying to
chase away the tears that threatened to fall unbidden onto the cold grass. Lupin’s admission struck her, and struck her
deep. There had been genuine feeling
and concern in his voice. She knew he
cared about her, and that he wished he could love her, but he had never really
admitted it.

She sat on her haunches, flicking
her stump of a tail back and forth. She
tensed her paws, pushing her claws out of their sheaths, and resisted the urge
to slash something. Instead, she sat,
gazing into the darkness that surrounded her. The air was cold, and a slight
breeze ruffled her fur. Aislinn
shivered against it, and was about to turn to go when she heard footfalls and
saw a familiar shape in the darkness.
Instead she once again sat down, glaring into the flaring light of a
wand tip.

She heard a groan, and Snape’s voice
chide her. Aislinn stood, walking into the
light and smiling as she heard her enemy’s voice die in his throat. This had to be unexpected. She doubted he knew her identity, but seeing
a random lynx so close would cow anyone.
She bared her teeth, and suddenly got an idea. Coughing was difficult with the throat of a cat, but Aislinn did
so, gathering as much spit in her mouth as she could manage.

She then released the spit in her
throat with absolute vehemence on the corner of her enemy’s robes and attempted
to grin wickedly before running off into the drizzle. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. She resisted the temptation to turn back
towards Hogwarts and kept on moving towards the gates, but she felt her heart
grow heavier with every step she took.

Hogwarts had been her happy home for
about two months before the experience was soured, but she kept thinking back
on her students. Most of them had been
a true joy, no matter what house they were allied to. In fact, Aislinn enjoyed watching the subtle discrepancies
between the houses and their students.
She didn’t believe in playing favorites; a Slytherin was just as welcome
in her classroom as a Hufflepuff.

The gates loomed up before her, and
she noticed the wet pile that was her clothes and attempted a frown. She took her human form, feeling a bit
exposed, and took a deep breath, clutching the soaked clothes to her
chest. All other concentration went
towards her Apparation, and the gates of Hogwarts disappeared behind her in a
blur of color.

*

Lupin’s
lessons the past three weeks had been informative, but there was a feeling
lacking in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Harry loved having an old friend around
again, but he couldn’t help feeling an intense loss in his chest. His Occlumency lessons had ceased, as had
any hope of speaking to a former Auror he would have seen on a regular
basis. However, the class had been
adjusting to Lupin’s presence rather well.
Malfoy, of course, had been taking regular jibes at him, but Professor
Lupin seemed to shrug them off with no problem. Harry only wondered what the Ministry of Magic was thinking.

Currently
they were working on a Shielding Charm, although practical lessons were often
difficult to coordinate. Harry had
partnered up with Neville, and both of them shared a covert smile at their
memories of the defense club they had formed last year under the nose of
Delores Umbridge. Most of the
Gryffindors in the class had got the charm down right the first time, much to
Slytherin consternation. Professor
Lupin merely flashed a covert smile at Harry and continued on his direction.

Neville
waved his wand, disarming Harry easily.
“Where d’you reckon Professor O’Flannery is?” he asked as Harry bent
down to retrieve his fallen wand.

Harry
shrugged. “I don’t know. I asked Lupin, and all he had to say was
she’s somewhere in Ireland. I don’t see
how it really matters; I doubt she’ll be coming back.” Harry paused a moment, biting his lip. He lowered his wand from blocking a spell
and looked Neville right in the eye. “Look,
Neville, I never really got a chance to say thanks for helping me out at the
Department of Mysteries last year. It
was, well, really brave of you to come with us. I just feel kind of guilty about luring you there.”

“You
didn’t lure me there!” exclaimed Neville, looking shocked. “I chose to go on my own, right?”

Harry
grudgingly nodded. There were still
large amounts of guilt eating at his insides.
He led his friends into certain danger, and the outcome was one of
horrific consequence. He chanced a
glance at Lupin, whose back was turned to the pair at the moment. He wondered how he was taking it. After all, Lupin had been the last of the
Marauders to stay close to Sirius.
Harry knew they had lived together at the end, although it seemed Lupin
was always out doing things for the Order.
It must have been ungodly hard for Sirius to remain locked up in that
house.

Harry was
jolted out of his reverie when he was hit by another disarming spell and
Neville scoffed. “That one was easy!”

Harry smiled
and picked up his wand again, and was just about to deflect a spell of
Neville’s when Professor Lupin raised his hands.

“All
right, wonderful, wonderful! If you’ll
pack away your wands we can continue our practice our next class. Bell’s about to ring, and I want to give you
time to pack up and get organized. I’m
too lazy to grade homework at the time being, so I’ll give you a night off.”

His
announcement was met with happy cheers as everyone packed up their books and
settled bags on their shoulders. Harry
smiled and Ron and Hermione and then transferred his eyes to Professor
Lupin. The man looked tired, as tired
as any human could manage. He was pale
and bruised bags were under his eyes.
“He looks awful, doesn’t he?” whispered Harry to his friends.

They
nodded. “I’ve heard Malfoy complaining
in the Great Hall that his father is really unhappy Lupin’s back teaching. Something about half-breeds and danger to
students.” Ron had a look of utter
disgust on his face. “The only danger
here is what Malfoy’s dad would do if he had his way with everything.”

The bell
sounded, and Harry entered the mass exodus into the halls. The mood seemed fairly light-hearted,
although there was still a twinge of sadness at the thought that Professor
O’Flannery might not be returning.
However, even Lockhart would have been in an improvement over Delores
Umbridge of last year. Harry chuckled
silently at remembering her face after being carried off by centaurs, and how
good it would feel to sneak up behind her clapping coconuts together.

Their
next class was Potions, and when Harry realized it, his spirits seemed to
dampen. He doubted anything he did
would be enough to save him from the wrath of Snape. The man hated Harry; that’s all there was to it.

“Are you still
missing that Celtic traitor?” a cold voice drawled behind Harry.

He spun
around to find Draco Malfoy leaning against a wall near the Potions
classroom. Crabbe and Goyle flanked
him, cracking their knuckles.

“What do
you want, Malfoy?” Ron’s voice was
equally as cold and hateful.

Malfoy
started forward. “Didn’t I tell you
last year, Potter, that you were dead?”

“Well,
I’m still here, obviously. I can see
why you didn’t pass your divination O.W.L.,” Harry growled.

Draco
merely grunted and whipped out his wand.
“All funny jokes, Potter, but without your beloved Defense teacher here,
what are you going to do? I have almost
complete immunity here.”

Harry
considered for a moment. What the fool
said was true. Malfoy was one of
Snape’s favorite students. Any fight
that broke out would automatically be considered Harry’s fault, witnesses or
not. However, he might not have a
choice if Malfoy fired a spell at him.
He would have to retaliate, or suffer.

Ron was
the first to answer. “No you don’t,
scum. You know damn well that
Dumbledore won’t take your lying side.
If we go to him, and say, perhaps, you just threatened Harry’s
life, do you think he’d dismiss it as a lie?
No way! So watch what you say,
Malfoy.”

Malfoy’s
eyes flicked right and then left. “Is
that a knut on the floor, Weasely? I
bet to your family that would be a week’s worth of bread, right?”

Harry had
to hold the back of Ron’s robes to keep him from lunging straight at Malfoy’s
throat. “Ron, stop! Ron!
You’ll just get in trouble!”

And
trouble was exactly what came around the corner. Snape stared down at Harry and Ron, the corner of his lip
twitching. “Fighting, are we?” he asked
in a cold tone. “Ten points from
Gryffindor.”

It didn’t
get any better from there. Harry knew
he had to tread carefully around Snape or risk failing his class. He had been very careful to follow every
direction perfectly, but many times the hated professor still found things to
criticize. Today he was not stirring
slow enough, and the potion was not the proper shade of green.

“Half
credit I think,” Snape drawled. “I
expect two rolls of parchment on properties of betony and St. John’s wart and
the effects when combined. I expect it
on Monday. Clean your cauldrons.”

Harry
glared at Snape’s back with pure hatred.
If only he hadn’t looked into the penseive… His mind trailed off at the thought of what he would find in
Aislinn O’Flannery’s head. Probably
lots of angry and painful memories, but then again, she seemed to have a deep
love of music and good times with friends.
There would be memories of raucous and drunken parties as well. He thought of her that last night out by the
lake and the lazy way she drug on her cigarette, allowing the smoke to issue
from between her lips as she spoke. In
all, she had seemed relaxed; not at all upset she was leaving. And then she had just…disappeared.

“Harry!” Hermione’s tense voice caught him unaware.

“What?”

“I was
just telling Ron that after your Divination classes, my Arithmancy, we should go
down to see Hagrid. We haven’t done
that in a long time. I bet he believes
we’ve forgotten him.”

Harry
nodded as the bell rang. He had two
more classes: History of Magic, and Divination. He was just about to suggest that Ron skive off Divination when
he heard a familiar voice echo in front of him.

“…Well,
she’s playing a show in London on Saturday, so I’m probably going to figure out
something to say to her then.” Lupin
was talking to Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy professor about something having
to do with music. Harry’s mind worked
furiously and could only come up with one conclusion. He shushed a talkative Ron and hurried closer to listen.

“I hope
you manage to talk some sense into that woman.
Leaving in the middle of the night like that with only a vague hint of
where she was going!”

Lupin
sighed. “I know, Nigel, but she’s
always been compulsive like that.
She’ll come back; I know I can convince her if I catch her before she
gets too drunk. I think she just needed
some time to unwind. You know how women
are.”

Sinistra
nodded before leading the conversation off in another direction. Harry’s head was buzzing as he turned back
to his friends with a triumphant smile on his face.

“Hermione,
Ron,” he began. “By Saturday we need a
way to get to London.”

*

The
brandy was taken care of. Despite the
weeklong wait, it felt nice to think without the haze of alcohol hanging over
his head, but the temptation to imbibe could wait no longer. Snape took a left on a dingy street, looking
right and left for Muggles before disappearing into The Leaky Cauldron. The bar was fairly empty, and an empty chair
seemed to beckon to him. Snape sat,
nodding at the barkeep.

“Don’t
see much of you in here, Severus,” Tom, the bartender, said, nodding back.

“I know,
Tom, but it’s damn difficult to escape that school of mine. This is my first time out since late
August.”

Tom shook
his head. “Jesus. I couldn’t imagine. Now, what can I do you for?”

“Two
shots of firewhiskey and a glass of water.
Wait, make it three shots.” He
heard Tom chuckle as he poured the drinks.
Perhaps three was a bit much to ask. It was too late to change his mind now. He downed the first shot in one gulp and grimaced. The burn in his throat was refreshing; made
him know he was still alive. The other
shot went down easier, and just as quickly.
The last one slid down his throat like silk. He winked at the goggling barkeep. “It’s been a long week.”

“Obviously. Christ, I’ve never you seen you put it away
like that. Is something wrong?”

Snape
barked a laugh. “You could say that,
but don’t worry, Tom, it’s under control now.”
He flashed the man a rare smile and stood. “That was a much needed reprieve, sir, thank you,” he said as he
handed the barkeep a Galleon. “I don’t
want change, I’m feeling oddly generous tonight,” Snape called out over his
shoulder as he entered the backroom.

It was
true. Getting out of Hogwarts had done
wonders on his mood. The oppressiveness
had lifted, and had been replaced with something bordering on calm. It wasn’t exactly peace of mind, but there
was no longer an angry buzzing in his head.
The brandy was heavy under his arm, and he delighted in the thought of
lightening the load later. He tapped
three bricks and the archway to Diagon Alley opened before him.

There
were a few people on the streets; after all it was only nine. Snape could feel the alcohol beginning to
dull his senses, but he wasn’t exactly drunk.
He was walking a fine line, though, and he had to admit it felt
nice. There was a certain
lightheadedness to his thoughts and memories bounced around his head in a
frantic dance. Lilly Evans was there;
cold in her fury, and Lucius Malfoy was clapping him on the back as he downed
an entire bottle of firewhiskey.
Severus chuckled. He was so much
younger then. He had the world open to
him. That was before… He adjusted the bottle under his arm as he
grimaced at the unpleasant thought. His
left arm burned at the shame.

He
stopped abruptly. He had wandered
towards Knockturn Alley, but was not quite there. Instead he was facing a shabby building with open doors and
bright windows. Music slithered from
inside and out onto the street, and a few people milled about outside. Snape’s grip tightened on the bottle of
brandy, but his feet willed him closer.
He had to know if she was there.
Despite his curiosity, there was already an answer to his question
floating around in the back of his head.
It wasn’t just circumstance.
There was a sick kind of magnetism between them; it was almost as if he
was meant to be here.

Yes, it
was her voice, raised in song. It was
entirely different than her strong, beautiful song from the previous
months. This time it was violent. Snape stepped inside, standing on one side
of the door. He needed a quick escape
if necessary. He watched her,
fascinated. Her fingers slid into
chords easily at the same time she crooned her song to the crowd. Severus strained his ears to make out the
words, but the tune of the song was epic, with layering of chords and instruments
to make a perfect combination.

“To
the lovely dancing lights, I begged ‘May I cut in?’ but the never stopped
playing their song. Of a joyous song
they sing, I’ve heard whispers. On a
freezing note, I resonate.”

Snape’s
eyes were on her fingers as they sped along the fingerboard. The nails were green tonight, and he could
see the tattoo on her left hand stand out against her white skin. He raised his eyes to her arms, where the
same two Celtic bands knotted their way around her flesh. He unconsciously rubbed his Dark Mark and
realized he had quit listening.

”You
land as lightly as new snow, cinematic, onto the melting boy and melt
away. You light as gently, you’re so
cinematic. Bathed in your radiance, I
melt.” There was a small grin on
her lips, as if she shared a joke with herself that no one else knew. “In the glitter, in the dark, sunk into
velvet praying this will never end. In
the shadow of a star, in static pallor, I realized I never began.”

Snape
knew the feeling. He wanted to smile at
her, but stopped himself in time.
Instead, he moved a step forward and into the light. The music washed over him and he tuned
everything out except the lyrics.

“Twisting,
twisted. You land as lightly as new
snow, cinematic, onto the melting boy and melt away. You light as gently, you’re so cinematic. Bathed in your radiance, I melt.” The music changed to something slower, and
Snape opened his eyes. She was glaring
at him, hate in her eyes.

“All
the colors, upon leaving, all will turn to gray. All the colors…upon leaving…all will turn to gray. Gray.”
Her voice lingered in the air, haunting and inflamed. Snape averted his eyes from hers and lost
himself in his memories again. He must
look a right fool, standing among a crowd of youths, and clutching a bottle of
brandy. He thought of the loathing in
her eyes whenever she looked at him, and he cursed himself for his mistake of
showing up, even if it was accidental.
The music was gone, and with a start Snape blinked and glowered up at
the stage. There seemed to be a quick
whispered conference taking place between O’Flannery and the rest of the
band. The drummer, a tall, muscular
fellow, was grinning wickedly.

O’Flannery
raised one of her hands, gesturing for silence. “Well, we had originally planned t’ play another song, but I
think in these certain circumstances, this one is called f’r.” She bared her teeth as she announced the
name, something having to do with blood.
This did not sound pleasant. He
was aware of these “circumstances” she spoke of, even if the crowd seemed
confused. This one was directed at him.

It
started out slowly, beautifully almost.
“Faint white figures paint my sleep, please don’t tell my secrets
keep them hidden.” The bass
guitarist provided background vocals, but Severus didn’t bother wondering about
those. His entire attention was focused
on the woman before him. “If the
words that matter reach your face from the floor will you be wondering if, or…”

Snape
almost dropped his brandy bottle as the words coming from the bassist caught
him by surprise. Do I need what is
given, or honest? Did she have to
bring his mistake into her music? Could
the witch just let him be?

The voice
in the back of his head was chiding again.
You came here, it said. You
sought her out. Snape grimaced at the
truth, not wanting to believe it. The
next set of lyrics he missed, until the music swelled and O’Flannery’s voice,
pleading, roused him.

“And
when the answer that you want is in the question that you state, come what may…
Come what may.” She grinned right
at him; a wicked expression filled with contempt and pain. Well, he had wanted an answer. He stood firm, glaring back at her, but she
did not look away. Instead her narrow
eyes widened with pretend shock as she began the next verse of the song.

“In a
pain that buckles out your knees could you stop this if I plead? So destined am I to walk among the dark, a
child in keeping secrets from…” The bassist interjected something, but
Snape wasn’t listening. When was she
ever a child in keeping her secrets?

“In
the sought for matter when the words blame you, in a blood red summer I’ll give
you, I don’t want it anymore. And when
the answer that you want is in the question that you state, come what may. Come what may.” In a split second that insolent grin was
wiped off her face and replaced by look of severity. “What did I do to deserve this?”

The words
echoed around him. The guilt was
crushing him. “What did I do to
deserve…this?” Her eyes were
narrowed. She would kill him if she had
the chance. There was such palpable
hate between them, although Severus’ face was quickly darkening, not from
anger, but from shame.

What had
she done to deserve anything?
Absolutely nothing, and yet he had violated her in a manner more
intrusive than rape. He thought of her
limp form on his couch, and how easy it would have been to take her, had he
been that kind of a man. You are
that kind of a man, Severus, the voice in his head cut in. You have violated more than your fair
share of innocent women, and yet you want to continue… Snape’s stomach clenched. He could smell the blood from years ago, the
blood that flowed so freely at those Revels.

Severus
started as he realized the song had changed to something less threatening and
personal. It was still sad, yes, but
then again what was his place to critique that woman’s music? Snape held the brandy bottle tight against
his chest as he turned on his heel, billowing away from the building as if it
were on fire. His aversion with himself
was intense, and he ached for the moment he could be safely in his chambers,
drinking himself into a stupor he wouldn’t have to deal with until the next
morning.

*

“I can’t
believe ‘e had the nerve, the feckin’ gall to even show ‘is face!” Aislinn
raged as she poured herself a drink.
Now was a time for drunkenness, but Aislinn was just starting. “’E just shows up wi’ his liquor like ‘e had
no care in th’ world.” She paused for a
moment, and then turned to her friends.
“I want t’ kill him,” she said in absolute seriousness, her face a mask
of anger.

She saw
Lupin grimace, but Rob grinned. “How
would you do it, Aislinn?”

She
thought for a moment, resting a finger against her chin. “I think, first, I’d whip ‘im until ‘is back
was just a mass o’ blood. Then, after
he’s been beggin’ f’r mercy, I’d use a silk tie around ‘is neck t’ suffocate
him.” Aislinn could see it all in her
head, unfolding like a play. Suddenly,
she realized what she was doing, and she shivered. “Never again,” she whispered, and wrapped her arms around
herself.

Rob
shifted uneasily under Aislinn’s hard gaze.
“What are ye playin’ at, Rob?”
She turned from him and tossed down the whiskey like water. It burned her throat, but she refused to
splutter. Instead, she poured another
glass and drained it. The alcohol was
dulling her senses, and she smiled. The
warmth spread through her body; she heaved a sigh as she sat down in a chair.

“I don’t
really want t’ kill ‘im. It’s just
difficult to deal with, havin’ a man y’ hate show up at a place y’ never
expected to see him,” Aislinn explained as she rubbed the bridge of her
nose. She shot a quick look at her
guitar, propped in the corner, before tucking her legs up underneath her. Lupin’s hands were resting on her shoulders,
and Aislinn leaned her head back against his stomach, exhaling in one long
sigh. She looked up at him and winked;
he winked back and kneaded his thumbs into her shoulder blades.

“Should
we leave?” asked Geoff tentatively, and Rob guffawed.

“Are you
kidding, Geoff? It’s Remus and
Aislinn. I would trust Remus in a room
full of naked women, and dear sweet Aislinn there is calm enough to be a
eunuch.” Rob laughed again, but
promptly moaned in pain when a glass caught him in the stomach.

Aislinn
glared at her bandmate and then turned back to Lupin. “Continue, Remus my dear,” she whispered, and whimpered as her
friend’s hands worked at her shoulders, freeing up tensing muscles. Aislinn’s head rolled forward, her chin
resting near her collarbones, as Lupin caressed her neck and ran his fingers
along her scalp.

Ice
clinked against glass, Geoff and Rob spoke lowly, but Aislinn’s full attention
was focused on Remus Lupin’s fingers as they traveled down her spine,
feathering outward near her hips, and then sliding back up to her
shoulders. “Remus, it’s times like
these I wish I didn’t know ye so well,” she murmured to him, her hands tensing
in her lap.

Remus
reached around, smoothing hair back from her face and tucking several strands
behind her ears. He chuckled
lowly. “Aislinn O’Flannery, you would
do no such thing. I’m just the
traveling masseuse.”

Aislinn
stood, taking Lupin’s hand and leading him to a couch on the opposite side of
the room. She shot an evil look at Rob,
who was winking at Geoff in a suggestive way, and shook her head. “Boys,” she muttered.

She
staggered a bit before sitting and giggled, the alcohol flowing through her
system. She wasn’t drunk, but she was
beginning to feel light-headed, and her balance was suffering. There was a fire in her body, too, another
side effect of her drinking. She
settled against her friend, her head resting on his shoulder and his arm
circling her waist. “I’m lonely,
Remus,” she whispered to him, twining her fingers together.

“What
about Fionnuala?” Lupin’s voice was
husky in her ear. “How can you be
lonely when you have so many close friends around you now?”

Aislinn
shook her head. “Not like that,
Remus. I want t’ be loved. I want t’ be touched an’ kissed…” Her voice
trailed off and she nuzzled into Lupin’s neck.
“Spend the night wi’ me,” she whispered.

“I am,
Aislinn, in case you forget. I’m here
to get you home and help you walk, at the rate you’re going.”

Aislinn
slid her left hand onto her friend’s thigh.
“No, Remus.” She shuddered
against him, giggling softly. “Stay wi’
me tonight. Make love t’ me.”

Remus
didn’t pull away from her, or even acknowledge her for a good thirty
seconds. He sighed, moving her hand
from his thigh back to her lap. “We’ve
been through this before, Aislinn, my darling, my dear. You remember what happened last time?” She nodded, and he continued. “Aislinn I can’t and won’t sleep with
you. I know you too well; it would be
like sleeping with my little sister.
You’re getting drunk, and that’s why you feel this way.” Aislinn saw him smile down at her, light
dancing in his eyes. “I thought you
swore off men.”

Aislinn
could feel her lip trembling. She
wanted to cry. “I’m-I’m sorry,
Remus. ‘S not my place t’ ask that of
anyone.” She straightened visibly,
tossing her hair back. “Forget I ever
brought it up.”

Lupin
adopted a confused stare. “Brought what
up?” he asked innocently.

Aislinn
laughed, standing up and reaching towards the liquor. “If I’m going to get drunk, we all have to get drunk!” She raised the bottle to her lips, pouring
the liquid down her throat. She lowered
the bottle, handing it off to Remus and shaking her head to clear it. She could feel the alcohol hit her stomach,
and watched Lupin pass the whiskey to Rob.
She felt like she was nineteen again.
Snape was forgotten. Hogwarts
was lost in the miasma of alcohol and friends, and Aislinn swayed her hips to a
drumbeat Rob was beating out on a table.

“I’m
worth a million in prizes with my torture film, drive a GTO, wear a uniform on
a government loan…” Aislinn sang softly to herself as accepted a nearly empty
bottle from Geoff.

Rob threw
back his head, shouting “I’ve got a lust for life!” at the top of his lungs as
he continued his frenzied beating.

Aislinn
ran into Lupin, grabbing him around the neck gently and planted a sloppy kiss
on his cheek. He sighed. “Is that that miserable song about Johnny
doing a striptease and hypnotizing chickens?” he asked her, pushing her away
gently.

Aislinn
nodded. “God bless Iggy Pop,” she said
somberly with her hand over her heart.
She knew she was swaying under the influence of the whiskey, but a
sloppy smile was plastered over her face.

Suddenly,
she spun on her heel, her arms outstretched to keep her balance. The door had opened, but no one stood in the
frame. Aislinn whipped her wand out of
a pocket of her jeans, leveling it at the doorway. “I suggest that whoever is hidin’ show ‘imself before I have t’
do some damage,” she hissed lowly. All
motion behind her had ceased. There was
silence.

The door
shut; pushed by an unseen force, and abruptly Harry Potter, Hermione Granger,
and Ron Weasely were standing in front of her.
Potter held something silvery, something that caught the light in such a
strange way…

Aislinn
crossed her arms over her chest, but was pushed out of the way by a furious
Remus Lupin. He was yelling, though
half his words were unintelligible, and Aislinn shook her head. “Remus let them be.” She took a step forward, unsteadily.

Lupin
looked at her angrily. “These are my
students, Aislinn. I am responsible for
them.”

Aislinn
drew herself up to her full height. She
fixed her old friend with a wary gaze before speaking. “Seo, tá uisce faoi thalamh, Remus.” He understood, and backed off. Aislinn turned back to the three children in
front of her. Her voice was cold and
calculating. “I’m sure that one o’ you
three has a damn good reason f’r being in London tonight.” She pointed to the couch. “Sit.
And speak.”

She
watched as the three students settled themselves, all various shades of
red. Her eyes bored into them. “Well?” she asked, her voice angry.

“We
needed to see you again, Professor.”
Aislinn’s head swiveled to fix Ron in her steely gaze.

“Am I
your wife Weasely?” He shook his
head. “I didn’t think so. Why did ye have this insatiable urge t’ see
me tonight?”

“Professor
O’Flannery, please.” Her penetrating
gaze turned to Hermione, who winced, but continued to meet her old teacher
glare for glare. “We overheard
Professor Lupin in the hallway saying you’d be in London tonight, so we decided
to sneak out to come see you. Everyone
misses you, Professor. We wanted to ask
you ourselves if you’d even consider coming back.” Her eyes were pleading.
“Please, Professor.”

Aislinn
turned away from her former students.
“I can’t answer that question now.
I need time t’ think.” She put
her head in her hands, trying to clear her thoughts.

“Aislinn,
think about it,” Remus interjected. “I
came tonight to tell you I have to go back to Spain. I can’t continue covering for you. You’re needed there.”

Aislinn
shook her head, trying to deny it. “I
can’t go back, Remus. I can’t face him
and his arrogance any more. I’m scared
I’ll kill him. Remus…” Her voice
trailed off. “I don’t know what I’m
doin’ anymore.”

“Think
about it, Aislinn. You loved it when
you were teaching. The kids obviously
miss you. Go back.” Remus’ voice was soft and convincing, and
Aislinn relaxed, once again turning to face Harry, Ron, and Hermione with her
bleary eyes. She snorted.

“I guess
your reason passes muster. I want ye
back at Hogwarts in minutes, ye understand me?
I’ll be back soon enough; Monday or Tuesday perhaps.” She nodded her head once; it was final. If three students could risk their education
to tell her she needed to shape up, then she felt required to teach them
everything she knew. “It’s done,” she
said, extending her hand to the three students.

Each one
of them grasped it, smiling.

*

“There
are three unused fireplaces in the square, remember?” Hermione sounded exasperated as she measured out the Floo
powder. “Harry you told me you needed a
way into Diagon Alley, so we have one.
We can’t apparate, and I’m not even sure the proper way to go about
making a Portkey. The Floo network will
have to do.”

Ron
shuffled a bit, but eventually accepted the powder, grumbling under his
breath. Hermione shot him an angry
look, but said nothing at all.

Harry’s
insides felt jittery. If they were
caught, they would surely be expelled.
Leaving the school at any time was strictly forbidden; he doubted any
other student had traveled off on a late-night jaunt to a club in London. Harry took several deep breaths, trying to
calm his nerves. He, Ron, and Hermione
were secreted in the Room of Requirement, since the Gryffindor common room
would no doubt be filled with students.
They had been there for the past hour as Hermione and Harry attempted to
teach Ron Muggle poker, all the while waiting for the proper time.

Harry
checked his wristwatch, sighing. “Now’s
as good a time as any. It’s about nine
o’clock.”

Hermione
shifted uncomfortably. She was the most
nervous; school was her life, and to be expelled would be worse than being
killed. To her, at least. Despite that, she was the one to point out
the existence of three fireplaces in Greymalkin Square, linked to the Floo
network. Harry owed her a great debt
for that. She had the answer when he
was still puzzling over means of transportation.

He stood,
cupping the Floo powder carefully.
“I’ll go first. It was my idea,
and if anything happens, well, it’s my fault.”
He gave his friends a small grin in order to soften the words. He didn’t really expect anything would
go awry, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

The
flames in the fireplace looked foreboding, but Harry tossed in the Floo powder,
watching the normally orange fire turn to green. They crackled malevolently.
He stepped into them, shaking off the odd sensation that he was standing
in fire and not being burned. “Greymalkin
Square!” he commanded, and he felt his body begin to spin. He had never really become accustomed to the
Floo network; it left him feeling queasy.
He was cold; his eyes were squeezed tight, and then suddenly his feet
hit something solid. He opened his eyes
and stumbled out of one of the empty fireplaces, feeling amazingly clean. He looked down at himself; there was not
much ash, really. Then again, these
fireplaces were probably cleaned often.
He stepped out into the square, looking around warily and waiting on his
friends. Hermione arrived shortly after
he did, followed by a grumpy looking Ron.

The
square was almost deserted. A few
people hurried past, throwing looks over their shoulders and at the new
arrivals. Ron shifted. “I hope no one here knows Dad.”

Harry
grinned. “I almost forgot! Here!”
He reached inside his shirt and pulled out something silvery. The invisibility cloak. Harry unfurled it and settled it around his
friends. “I know it’s harder to stay
under it now, but still, it comes in handy.”

It was
harder; the three friends were growing, and significantly taller than their
first year. However, Harry could rest
easy now, knowing they couldn’t be seen.
They turned a few corners until they saw they shabby building in front
of them, filled with the sounds of laughter and music.

“We’re
going to have to stay under the cloak.
I’m sure Professor O’Flannery would kill us if they saw us there.”

“Then how
are we going to talk to Aislinn, Hermione?” asked Ron.

Hermione
thought for a while. “I think that
after the show we should go backstage and take off the cloak then. Hopefully she’ll hear what we have to say.”

That
seemed like the best course of action, so Harry nodded sagely, agreeing
silently with everything Hermione said.
She had thought everything out beforehand. He wanted to laugh; that was so like her. Trust the girl to think about every aspect of
their adventure before it happened.
Harry was proud to know her.
“Are we ready?” he asked, not really waiting for confirmation. They were here. They had to do what they came to do.

It was
difficult trying to shuffle through the doorway while attempting to remain
unseen, but somehow they managed it.
Once inside they hurried over to a dark corner, praying that between the
three of them, they wouldn’t hit anyone.
It always made for several awkward moments or harried explanations, and
this was not the place for either.
Fortunately, luck was with them.
From the corner Harry looked out over the crowd, seeing no one he recognized
except Aislinn O’Flannery, smiling. She
was in the middle of a speech to the crowd, something about support and
loyalty, but Harry tuned that out.
Instead he focused on things to say and how he would explain his absence
from Hogwarts to her later.

“…An
older song of ours, Letter of Intent.”

Harry
felt Ron elbow him in the ribs. “We’ll
finally get to see a full show,” he whispered hoarsely, but Harry ignored
him.

“You
break down systematically when everything is black and white and red. Is up for living enough to sleep at
night? You must be tired now from days
and nights of growing old, I’ll mark this down as one and call it moving on.” A pause.
“Don’t bother reading those last rites, with demons sleeping soundly
out of sight, sustaining tones of broken bones will sleep with you
tonight. You must be drying out from
days and nights of growing old, I’ll this down as one that I take to my
grave…alone!” She banged her head
in time with the drumming, but her attention seemed focused on her shifting
fingers and changing chords before continuing.
“I’m making this…my last reply…it’s my resignation… And I’ll mark
this down as one for moving on!”

Harry
joined in the applause as the bassist leaned forward. He was the same wiry one, but this time he wasn’t smoking a
cigarette. “So, it’s wonderful to see
you all again so soon. We were planning
to make you wait a few more weeks, but Aislinn here was itching like a cat on
crack to play, so we figured we’d indulge her, right, Rob?” The drummer grinned and nodded his head
vigorously.

“As I
remember, ye were th’ one itchin,’ Geoff, because y’ see, he got a bad case o’
the clap off one o’ those French hookers when he went to visit his dad, and
this is kind o’ his celebration. So
ladies, stay away from him, y’hear me?”
A titter of laughter raced through the audience, but Harry looked over
at Hermione and noticed she was blushing.

“I’m sure
she was kidding, ‘Mione,” Harry said, trying to reassure her.

“I know,
I know,” answered Hermione, “but I just keep picturing her as a professor, and
she’s telling dirty stories.”

Another
song followed shortly, but about halfway through Harry almost choked. “Look!” he whispered hoarsely, pointing with
one hand towards the door.

“Bloody
Hell,” Ron interjected quietly as Professor Snape snuck cautiously through the
doorway, holding a liquor bottle. “What
is he doing here?”

Harry had
to reassure himself that he couldn’t be seen, but he had broken out in a cold
sweat nonetheless. He attempted to
focus his attention on the show, but kept checking back on the Potions
master. It was obvious O’Flannery had
noticed him; she conferred with her band mates on stage and began a deeply
personal song that caused Snape to flush a bright red. He promptly fled.

Harry continued
checking his watch, and about eleven the crowd began to disperse. The band didn’t really leave the stage until
midnight, when Harry beckoned his friends to follow him, keeping close under
the cloak. A small flight of stairs
proved almost disastrous, but soon enough they were in a back hallway behind
the stage, listening to muffled voices and sounds of celebration. Now was time.

The three
moved entirely in sync with each other.
Soon enough the door was open, but they had forgotten about the presence
of Remus Lupin, as well as the magnitude of Aislinn’s anger. Hermione struggled out from under the cloak,
followed by Ron, and Harry pulled it off himself. Shame was etched on his features as his former professor muttered
something to his current one in a thick, guttural language and faced them
herself.

However,
he could see the almost-hidden laughter dancing in her eyes, and as he shook
her hand he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. O’Flannery tried her best to look severe, but
as Harry shut the door behind him, he could hear her laughter cut through the
night. It was one of the most pleasant
sounds he had ever heard.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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DamhsaÃ­ Naofa is DiamhaslaÃ­

DamhsaÃ Naofa is DiamhaslaÃ