Through a Glass, Darkly

Summary: Siobhan Potter is a good Catholic girl about to walk into the world of the Saints of South Boston with her eyes wide open. None of them will ever be the same again. Warnings: Religion, eventual smut, language, eventual threesome/three way relationship. Connor/Siobhan/Murphy

A/N: The beliefs in this story do not necessarily coincide with my own beliefs. I am not Catholic, and thus I have no clue beyond my research on Catholicism about it. Feel free to tell me if I'm wrong, but please do not flame over the content of this story. You have been warned in the summary. A story about the Boondock Saints is bound to have religious overtones, after all. I got this idea from reading Feathers by Kira Kyuu, but don't expect it to be much like that at all, besides the name, which I love, and the beginning concept of her going to see her Doc of a grandfather. ;)

Also, don't expect this to really follow the plot of either movie. I enjoyed the movies, but I have no plan of separating those boys from Siobhan. At all. At it's heart, consider this a love story with rather serious undertones. I fully plan on a happily ever after, and that does not include sending Connor and Murphy off to Ireland. Sorry if you don't like it, but that's the way it is.

For all that her Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had never loved her, and had in fact treated her with cruelty not quite edging on abuse; they had made sure that Siobhan Potter was a good Catholic girl all throughout her Hogwarts career.

Of course, this hadn't exactly worked out like they had planned. They had wanted her to believe that her gift of magic was a gift from the Devil, when in reality she knew that it was a gift from God.

But still, a good Catholic girl did not mesh well with a culture that still worshipped the pagan gods, and so she hid it carefully until her fourth year at Hogwarts, when she had been called by the Goblet of Fire.

"Siobhan Potter," came Albus Dumbledore's grim voice, and the too small, too pale girl stood shakily before moving quickly. She knew better than most, after all, that to show weakness now would be suicide, and she had no desire to kill herself simply because she couldn't control herself.

By the time she had gotten to the Antechamber she was still pale, but her shaking had stopped, even as she protested her innocence. When the pronouncement came that she had to compete, she closed her eyes.

"Are you not pleased?" The French girl, Fleur Delecour demanded, glaring at her with too blue eyes. "'Ogwarts now gets two bites at ze apple, two chances to win glory."

Siobhan opened her eyes and the intensity of her gaze made the blonde young woman take a step back in reluctant fear even as the others shifted uneasily.

"Ms. Delecour, I am fourteen years old, forced to compete in a tournament based on the average skill sets of those three years older than me."

She took a deep breath, and then drew a rosary out of her robes with a grim look, ignoring the shocked gasps of Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore, along with the disturbingly knowing look from Snape.

"I am going to die in twenty three days", she finished softly, laughing mockingly at Dumbledore's protests. "Yes, I am. Because I do not have the ability to compete at this level. And now I am going to pray."

She had knelt in a corner, because her prayers were private things, and this way she could still have a hope of keeping this a secret from the rest of Hogwarts.

Of course, it hadn't worked, because Cedric Diggory never had been able to keep his mouth shut about things that didn't concern him. So for the next year, she had been subjugated to the cruelest of taunts about her faith, and she had bowed her head and persevered.

Of course, Seamus Finnegan was from Ireland, same as her mother, aunt and grandfather, and he was a good Catholic boy.

Well, kind of.

At the very least he protected her against some of the nastier comments, telling her, "We Irish-Catholics have to stick together luv." She had asked, once, how he could tell that she had Irish heritage. He had laughed at her and said, "The accent never goes away one you've spent time with someone who has it."

And her grandfather had certainly had it; even years after he'd went to the Americas from Ireland, ending up in South Boston of all places. She had visited once with her relatives, and it was a nasty place, although by now she had certainly seen worse.

Still, after that one visit her relatives had never gone back, to her eternal disappointment. They had said that if he wanted to see them again, he would have to come to them. He never did.

After her fourth year, however, people had bigger things to worry about than her faith, although Ron never had quite forgiven her when he had caught her praying once, after she had thought everyone else had gone to bed.

The irony was in the fact that in Ireland, she was welcomed with open arms for being of the Catholic faith. And so after she had defeated Voldemort she had run to Ireland, where she could confess her sins to someone who could both absolve her and understand what she was talking about.

Which is how she ended up in a confessional, whispering, "Bless me Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was nearly one year ago." She swallowed heavily; even with the knowledge that the Priest was magical she was nervous. "I killed the Dark Lord Voldemort."

There was a soft gasp from the Priest's side of the confessional, but after another moment of silence she began confessing all of her sins. From wrath to envy, and even lust, they were there. She finished by saying, "I am sorry for these and all of my past sins."

The Priest began quietly. "I will say that I think th' time ye spent trying to figure out how to defeat th' Dark Lord is penance enough lass, but if ye need more, pray for th' poor sod. He'll be going straight to hell he will, and prayers for others are always welcomed by God. Yer a good girl Siobhan Potter, and a good Catholic. Don't let anyone say naught to th' contrary."

Siobhan smiled softly and continued on without a word, finding comfort in the familiar ritual. "God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you, and I detest all my sins because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell; but most of all because they offend you, my God, who are all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve with the help of your grace to confess my sins, do penance, and to amend my life. Amen."

"I absolve ye from yer sins in th' name o' th' Father, th' Son an' th' Holy Spirit. Amen."

She bowed her head and repeated softly, "Amen. Thank you Father, both for the absolution and your kind words. I will pray for Voldemort, and I hope that it makes some kind of difference."

She let herself out of the confessional feeling lighter than she had in a long time. And for all that Ireland had to offer, she knew exactly where she needed to go next. It was time to hand out her own absolution, even if it wasn't wanted, even if she didn't truly have the right.

It was time to go back to Number 4, Privet Drive.

Apparation was a wonderful thing, reducing a long trip to mere moments. However, in moments like this, she wished that she had never learned it. Standing still and silent for the longest moment, she took her time to survey the place that she had once been forced to call home.

A deep breath had her moving quickly and knocking on the door, staring up into her Aunt Petunia's pale green eyes. Not as vibrant as her own, but she still wondered how she had never seen the similarity. Maybe she had just never wanted to. And she smiled when he Aunt resignedly invited her inside.

Siobhan took a seat and looked at the three people sitting opposite of her. They were three of the most casually cruel people that she knew, and she had spent much of her time recently in the Death Eater's dungeons, so that was saying something. But they were still her family, and that alone prompted her to speak.

"For the longest time, I hated you." Her voice was entirely bland, and that was the only thing that kept them from jumping up and ordering her out of their home. Wondering how she could make such a vicious statement sound so calm and disconnected.

"You never loved me. You kept me in a cupboard, and if you look in book at what constitutes physical abuse, several things pop out very clearly. At the very least you neglected me both physically and emotionally, and it took me a very long time to get over that."

And then Siobhan Potter smiled.

And Petunia Dursley hated herself for the first time, because that smile was all Lily and their father, and this was Lily's daughter and his granddaughter. And she had always loved her sister and her father, somewhere deep inside of herself; she had just so resented the burden placed on her family.

"But you gave me the one thing that has kept me alive all of these years," she continued softly, reaching inside of her shirt and pulling out a banged up rosary. "You gave me faith that God would protect and love me no matter what. And he does."

She stared them straight in the eyes, and then smiled again. "And I forgive you. I cannot hand you absolution for your sins, but I personally forgive you for your sins against me. Because I can't afford not to, and you are my family, whether you like to admit it or not."

Siobhan stood up, ready to leave, when Petunia grabbed her hand. "I will never forgive myself for treating a child so coldly," the older woman admitted tiredly, "but your grandfather has been asking to see you again ever since we took you to see him when you were eight."

It was a peace offering, and Siobhan took it as such. "Thank you Aunt Petunia," she said gently, before extracting herself gently from her hold and walking out their door for the last time.

And then Petunia Dursley smiled, and went to go cook dinner. She hadn't been the kindest to her niece, and she certainly hadn't stopped Vernon from crossing the line to abuse more than once, but she had saved her sister's daughter's immortal soul.

And no matter what, Petunia found that something to be proud of. It was also the first thing she had been proud of in a long time, and it was likely to be the last.

Siobhan was surprised, although she hadn't shown it. She had thought that her grandfather hadn't liked her, no matter how much he seemed to while he was there, but this put a whole new perspective on things.

The man who had taught her so much about her faith, who had treated her kindly even as he shouted out random curses, he wanted to see her again. He had wanted to see her since she had left, so many years ago. And he still wanted to see her now, now that she was grown and broken in so many different ways, not all caused by the War.

And she smiled again.

Because that was one more person that she could let in and love, because he had never stopped loving her, despite the nasty lies that Petunia and Vernon had spewed. He had liked her better than Dudley, and had been the first person to tell her that she had her mother's eyes.

He had been the first person to tell her anything nice at all about either of her parents, and that had stuck with her. Although he had never known her father, he had declared that he must have been a fine man; otherwise her mother wouldn't have married him, let alone had a child with him.

And for a little girl of eight years, that had been a warm glow that not even Vernon Dursley's belt could extinguish. It was also the only reason she had made it to eleven to go to Hogwarts.

It looked like Siobhan Potter was going to Boston.

And yet, once she gets there she is once again reminded that instant transportation is seriously overrated.

And yes, she is ignoring the fact that even Dumbledore would have had to have made that in a couple of trips instead of one, but she doesn't like to think about the implications of that, thankyouverymuch.

There are many things that could be said about Siobhan Potter. She's an ice cold bitch that denied every male that even tried to get close to her at Hogwarts. She may not believe in the whole 'abstinence until marriage' deal, but she also has magic, which many Catholics would gladly kill her for, so she's pretty sure she's allowed some leeway in the strict belief pattern.

After all, she doesn't believe in indiscriminate sex, just that sex should be with someone that you care about immensely. And no, she will not say the 'L' word. That word is no longer in her vocabulary, thank you.

So yeah, maybe her belief patterns weren't quite in line with what typical Catholic doctrine said, but hey. If a fucking Priest tells her, after everything that she admitted to doing, that she is still a good Catholic girl, then she is still a good fucking Catholic girl, alright?

She is a murderer, and a Catholic. She has killed more Death Eaters than she can count, and she made Bellatrix Lestrange beg for killing her godfather. She killed Voldemort, and Lucius Malfoy and his son while Narcissa cried, and so many others. And she doesn't know if she can be forgiven for that. They were evil, but they were human.

Mostly.

Well, kind of.

The last, and most important, thing one should know about Siobhan Potter? She is not a fucking coward. So she pulled open the door to McGuinty's Pub and strolled right in as if she owned the place.

Which, you know, the owner is her grandfather, so one day she might.