I had trouble thinking of one for this, but I got a good idea from felonusangel... thanks R!

P.S. thanks to Numairs-Magelet for helping me out with the au/canon thing, this story is an AU.

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It was a week into the summer holidays and Saoirse was getting into the routine.

She got up between 7 and 8 am and went downstairs and had a bowl of cold cereal (or, occasionaly, an omelet and toast) and then take a walk around the nearby wizarding town, Salazara. Without the snow, the town was beautiful. There were flowering trees on the sidewalks and the streets were entirely cobblestone. A few families were walking down said sidewalks and Saoirse couldn't help but stare on her walks. She had never seen witches and wizards so young before and she couldn't help but wonder if, had Snape stayed with her mother when she was a kid, would she be more knowledgable in magic?

These thought depressed her, so she had to remind herself again, that she couldn't change the past. What was done, was done. Meanwhile, she had a little pocket money left over from the Christmas holidays and she decided to go into the local clothing shop to check out some robes.

She walked into the store and a bell over the door jingled. There were racks and racks orf robes; day robes, night robes, bath robes, dress robes, even what looked like formal robes for weddings.

She was greeted rather enthusiasticaly by a man with shoulder length, curly blonde hair and dark blue eyes. He wore a set of plain black day robes, decorated with silver clasps not unlike the ones she wore on her trench coat. Looking at the lining she could see inside his sleeves, the lining was red satin decorated with skulls. She likes this guy's sense of style.

"Can I help you?" he asked. God, she loved the British accent. And what the hell was she thinking?!

"Uh, yeah. Where did you get those robes?" she asked, pointing to the skull lining of his.

The guy laughed and held out the flaps of his robes, examining them himself.

"Out back are where you can find the novelty robes, male and female, and uh... you can customize them however you want," he informed her.

"Novelty robes? Hmmm..." she said, more to herself than him. She could get to like this particular shop if it sold customizable, novelty robes.

She walked out to the back of the store, to where the guy had pointed and saw a medium-sized rack of robes of various colors. She saw one that immediately caught her eye.

They were robes of the deepest bloodred, with black trim on the bottoms and sleeves, pure silver skull-shaped clasps at the throat and breast, and zipper pockets.

The man suddenly apparated right next to her, making her jump, and he smiled when he saw the robes she was examining.

"Like'em?" he asked, smiling. His canines were strangely pointed, she noticed, and suddenly she didn't think he was so cute if he turned out to be a werewolf or something.

"Um, yeah. Hey, are you a werewolf, by any chance?" she asked out of the blue. Well, her friends always did say she had a knack for putting her foot in her mouth.

He laughed.

"Half. My father. But I'm not interested in the war, I prefer to watch and hope for the best. Safer," he said, chuckling at her straightforwardness.

"I know it," she agreed, rolling her eyes, although, secretly, she was on her father's side. Voldemort would have to be killed somehow, some way.

"Well, these are all on sale, if you want them," he said, examining the price tag.

She frowned slightly. She only had ten galleons left over from Christmas. She didn't shop all that much.

" 7 Galleons, 8 and a sickle for a custom job," he said, reading the tag. Saoirse looked as far over his shoulder as she could reach. The tag said 11 galleons, 13 for custom. She smiled, shaking her head.

"Hmm." she said, browsing through the rest of the robes, There was a set of midnight blue ones with flaming red orbs all over them, a set of acid green ones with black trim on the sleeves and chains connecting the pockets, even a set that resembled a straitjacket with black straps and silver clasps. She fingered one of the staps for a moment, suddenly indecisivve over the bloodred ones and the straitjacket ones. Finally, she decided on the bloodred ones.

"I'll take these, but... one thing," she said, holding them up. She fingered the black trim on the sleeves, liking the feel of it and looked at the sleeves and skirt of them. Both could use a bit of enlargement.

"I want to make the sleeves and skirt part more roomy," she said. The half werewolf took them, bowed and smiled flirtaciously. His pupils flashed momentarily yellow and he said, "I'll do as you wish, ma'am."

He motioned to a box and said for her to stand on them. She did so and allowed him to slip the robes over her head. Predictably, they were stretched taut over her chest, so that the clasps wouldn't meet. Figured. She hated being so disproportioned. She knew her measurements. 40 hips, 17 waist, 53 bust.

Just tell me when you want me to stop," he said, undoing the seams on her sleeves with his wand. She did so.

Twenty minutes later found Saoirse bowed out of the shop wearing new robes and clutching a slip of parchment with a phone number on it. The half werewolf had apparently taken a liking to her, and she'd been to astonished to refuse the number. She had to admit, he was cute, but she wasn't sure she wanted a relationship at the moment. She had problems of her own to deal with, for example, Dumbledore's homework for the summer. She had to control her anger and practice astral projecting.

She walked down the street, basking in the usual unusual England weather when from the corner of her eye, she saw something flash silver. She stopped and looked. It was a Patronus shaped like a deer. It walked up to her and bowed its head.

"What the-?" she muttered.

"Saoirse. Return home immediately. I have business to attend to. Dad," the doe said. It promptly vanished in a flash of white lights.

Standing there confused, she tried to remember what she'd read about Patronuses. They were mainly used to repel dementors and lethifolds, but could also be used as messengers and were somehow part of the owner. Her father's Patronus must be a doe, for reasons she didn't know or care.

But why on earth did he want her to go back to the house just to stay with Wormtail? He was quite a bit older than herself, and grubby though he was, she was pretty sure he could stay out of trouble for a few hours.

Resigning herself, she switched the shopping bag holding her hand-me-down robes from her father and Apparated back to Spinners End.

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She got back into the house and blinked momentarily. After the light of day, the gloom and dim lights of the house took a bit of adjusting. Her father stood there waiting for her.

"I have to go, the Dark Lord has called. I need you to stay here and guard the house. Wormtail and I have to go, I'm not sure for how long. Help yourself to whatever you like in the kitchen and just occupy yourself until we return," he instructed.

"But what do you think he'll want?" she asked. She didn't know much about the magical world, but she did know that she didn't trust the darkest wizard of all time. She just met her father. She didn't want him to die a useless death at the hands of that creep.

"I can't tell you that," he said sardonically. With that, he put a skull mask on so it hid his features and disappeared in a puff of black smoke. Womrtail waved, gave her the creepiest smile on earth and did the same, leaving her alone.

She stood there, not sure what to do at first and resigned herself to just sitting in a chair with a book for the next hour. She put it down after that. Her eyes were itchy and she was bored out of her mind.

"Maybe I'll practice my Animagusing," she said to herself. She tried to do it with her new robes on, and to her surprise, she did it perfectly. She loved being a tiger. She felt so powerful, and her senses were so much sharper. She was clumsy as a human girl, gracefull and beautiful as a big cat. She flicked her long, stripy tail and laye down on the floor. She sniffed. Ew. It smelled like something had been dumped on the carpet. She looked around interestedly, noticing details she hadn't noticed as a human. She licked her lips and felt her tongue ring. Open wounds were transferred between human and tiger, she supposed.

She was interruped in her mindless nothings by a loud knocking on the door. She growled loudly, and someone opened the door. How had they gotten past her father's ward spells???? Oh, man she was in trouble. Well, at least she was a tiger. She wasn't totally powerless.

The man who walked in had long blonde hair and cold blue eyes. He wore a death eater mask, but at the sight of the house, took it off. He saw her. She growled.

"A pet tiger? How... exotic," said the man arrogantly. He smiled and Saoirse decided she didn't like him. She stod up on all fours, her tail twitching, always a danger sign. She growled, baring her fangs, and the man flinched and drew his wand.

Uh-oh. Here was the catch. She had to get this guy out without killing him and without getting killed.

"Nice, kitty, kitty kitty," he said quietly. "Oh? You know what this is, I presume? Then maybe you are no mere tiger..." he muttered to himself, lowering his wand ever so slightly. Saoirse saw her chance. It was now or never, and she had to make him think she was a true tiger.

She let loose a wall-shattering roar and lunged at the man, pushing him out the door and into the streets, covered in claw marks and bleeding. She sat there in the doorway and lowered her head, licking her paw as if nothing had happened.

"Ack," said the man, climbing to his elbows, spitting blood off his lower lip where one of her claws had grazed him.

He glared daggers at her and reached again for his wand. She roared again, louder than before, and was satisfied to see a dark stain spread on the seat of the man's pants. Inwardly, she laughed. She'd scared the piss out of him! Ha! Although now that she thought of it, her father would not be happy.

"Mark my words. I don't know who you are, but I assure you that I will find out. And when I do," said the man, standing up and straightening his robes, "I will make an end of you and finally get to Snape's book."

Snape's book? What on earth was this man talking about? She growled at him and narrowed her mismatched eyes and watched as the man Apparated away.

Satisfied, she transformed back, shut the door and sank down onto the threadbare couch.

She did not want to be the one to tell her father that some death eater was after something of his. He would tighten security tenfold and she wouldn't be able to go anywhere. She didn't want the death eaters to come recruiting, but she didn't want her freedom to roam jeapordized either.

After all, that was what Saoirse meant: freedom. And she intended to live up to that name.