3

The Disillusionment

"It's wonderful to see you all again, professors!" Cried out Dumbledore and opened his arms, as if he wanted to embrace all of his colleagues at once. "There is another wonderful year just to begin, and before the corridors start to be buzzing with students there is something I need to discuss with you. But let us begin our humble feast while we are slowly indulging in this fruitful conversation." The four long tables were put aside, so the teachers' table had enough space in the middle of the Great Hall for everybody to fit in. Just as he finished his sentence, the food appeared on the table. Dumbledore sat down and the Hogwarts' staff began eating slowly and peacefully. Sinéad was lost in her thoughts. It was nearly the beginning of the school year and Méav had departed the previous evening with Minerva. She had gained so much self-confidence and self-esteem while learning from Sinéad, and she had the feeling no one had dedicated so much time to Méav before in the girl's entire life, because she was just the last child, the smallest and weakest one, and was never actually supposed to achieve something grand. Her destiny was to remain forever hidden in the shadow of her two elder sisters, one a magus and the other one a brave warrior. At least this is what everybody had thought before she chose Méav as her apprentice. Sinéad was glad she had done so, she sensed a great potential in her youngest sister. Not necessarily as a magus though, for she didn't actually get much better during those two months. She was able to deal with some gods and spirits, but only with the good ones. Méav certainly wasn't the one to calm down the Spirit of Fire when he is outraged and furious, and what is more, the spirits of nature are just the very lowest category of spirits to actually deal with. Méav was fighting well, but for the time being, she was actually fighting for herself mainly. Sinéad felt still nervous a little about her people, but Méav learnt her healing at least, and they had quite a fair number of good warriors. She hoped they would all be alright. What was strange was that Méav's healing abilities were somehow associated with her crying. But, she thought and smiled a little, with Méav this is actually no great wonder, she was crying all the time...

Suddenly, she realised all eyes were fixed upon her. When Dumbledore saw her empty face, he pointed with his chicken leg at her and said: "I was just introducing you, my dear, as a professor of a brand new subject introduced to Hogwarts, called Mythology!" Many hands began clapping. Her face grew pink and she hoped she didn't look foolish as she was musing of other things.

"And your name, dear?" Minerva asked, encouraging Sinéad to actually do something and to pull herself from her pit of shame in which she felt herself to be.

"Sinéad."

"Aaand your surname?" Minerva raised her eyebrows.

Now it was Sinéad's turn to raise her eyebrows: "Excuse me, sur-what? I am sure I don't have anything like that!" Sinéad could swear she felt Minerva's urge to kick her under the table to prevent her from embarrassing herself more and more.

Hagrid began laughing loudly and professor Fitwick looked sympathetically at Dumbledore: "Merlin's Beard, Albus, where did you find this wood dryad?"

"I actually know a spirit who knew Merlin himself, the Spirit of Thunder, he could tell ye loads a stories of him!" Sinéad smiled and laughed, she was determined to be herself no matter what the wizards thought of her. That was simply her nature. She was too unselfish to care what others thought of her. "The Spirit of Thunder is a good-hearted old spirit with a big belly and his stomach always rumbles for he is in hunger for all the tension that is there before each thunderstorm, and his twin sister is the Spirit of Lightning, she is indeed a wicked woman! One of the greatest shrews I've ever known, and when the thunderstorm is about to come, she always argues with her brother who will get the biggest amount of thickness from the land and the air, oh, I've never seen a fiercer argument! She throws lightning at him and he rumbles angrily to her face, and when the storm ceases and the siblings go home, full of the tension and draght they sucked up from the earth, the world is fresh and moist again, and it isn't until next storm they argue again!"

Hagrid laughed so loud his eyes were filled with tears and he howled: "I love tha' woman! I love 'er!"

Dumbledore was smiling and the corners of McGonagall's mouth twitched. Fitwick seemed he didn't know if that was supposed to be a joke or not, the only ones expressing pure sympathy were the shabby-looking witch with grey curly hair and a witch with ruffled hair and thick glasses who until this moment remained slightly oblivious of what was happening around her. Professor Snape's glance was filled with contempt and he remained silent and grumpy.

"I am Pomona Sprout, my dear," the shabby-looking witch smiled, "I teach Herbology. I suppose you will have rather a tight relationship with nature?"

"'Tis true what you say, Pom-oo-na," smiled the sligtly embarassed Sinéad, "we live closely tied up with nature and anything that dwells thither, including plants, animals, fairies, and spirits."

"Do not tell me they do exist, dear, I won't believe you," chuckled professor Binns, who wasn't feasting though, he sat at the windowsill since he always enjoyed the first dinner of the teachers together, "we do have evidence of fairies so far, but not at all about some… spirits, as you say."

"'Tis no great fault of yers, no need for ye to be ashamed," she smiled, as if she was unaware of the mocking manner in which the ghost spoke, "our tribe deals with those pretty often, yet 'tis not common for everybody to be bending the spirits. You must have talent for that."

"Can the spirits do whach'er want 'em to do?" Asked Hagrid, having already wiped his tears of laughter and helped himself to a whole stuffed chicken.

"Ye could say that indeed," Sinéad nodded, remembering how she tamed the Ghost of Howling for the first time when she was little so that he could not threaten her people, "some of them are kind and welcoming, some of them are evil and thirsty for blood. It varies." For the first time, she actually looked at the dishes on the table: roasted potatoes and vegetables, beef steaks, chicken, pork pies, various bottles of juice, cheese, salads and sweets. She was amazed but she smirked at the meat. Pork-heads. Her tribe never were as successful farmers as to have such a feast. In the next second she helped herself to a pile of roasted veggies and some bread.

"Just as I was saying the whole time!" Cried Sybil Trelawney and her wandering expression turned into a gay one, "spirits do exist, supernatural forces too, I can see them as well, my dear, and I've been telling this to everybody all those twelve years of my Divination career at Hogwarts!" The witch swung her glass in a passionate gesture and spilled her pumpkin juice.

"Of course, Sybil, they are, so please sit down again, dear," Minerva pressed her lips together as if she were saying I-don't-believe-you-a-thing.

"You remain rather quiet, sir," the chestnut silky voice of Sinéad was talking to him. Snape turned his head towards Sinéad and his face showed no expression, as always.

"I have nothing to tell you and I certainly don't need to ask you for more… Interesting stories," he smirked mockingly and turned his look away from her.

"Could you please say your name again, dear?" Asked Madame Pomfrey, "S–"

"It sounds like 'Shin-aid', but you were grand," smiled the redhead woman.

"Well then Sinéad," Poppy continued, "does your… skill concern herbs also? The ones for healing, for instance?"

"Oh it does indeed," smiled Sinéad and was actually beginning to feel better after her initial pratfall, "we've no doctors or medics, so the women of the clan must do all the healing with all that they know. Sometimes, someone dies of course, as life goes. Therefore, we keen him and celebrate for three days and nights."

"You celebrate that he died?!" Binns grew even paler than he actually was, "what a colony of cruel savage creatures are you?!"

"Of course we don't celebrate that he died," retorted Sinéad sharply and she started to feel very uncomfortable in the company of wizards who obviously tried their every attempt to amuse themselves on her account, "we wake him. We keep him good company until his soul reaches the otherworld. Excuse me, I think this rather disadvantageous cultural exchange made me really tired. I was pleased to meet ye all and I am more than happy to see ye in the following days when this place will be getting ready for the arrival of the wizarding children. I bid ye pleasant eve." She said with a bitterly chagrin flavour in her voice and left the Great Hall without actually eating any bit of her supper.

When she woke up the following morning in her beautiful chamber at Hogwarts, she firstly couldn't remember what was making her feel so depressed. Then she recalled the events of last night and was feeling down again. She made a fool of herself… In front of all those people who used her weakness to their advantage and feasted their spite upon her ignorance. And yet, she didn't know what was it what made her look so stupid in their eyes. Was it her poverty? Her commonness? Her rural background? How did the dwarvish professor called her? A wood dryad… She buried her face into the pillow and could feel her own bitter hot tears wetting the fabric. How long has it been since she cried for the last time? She couldn't remember… She felt homesick. She missed the welcoming atmosphere of her tribe, where everybody was treated according to how he was, not what or whom he was.

"What did you expect?" She shrieked when she heard the voice coming from the wall. She jumped on her bed and stared in fascination at the portrait of a Renaissance lady on the wall which smiled at her, "they treat you as a pleb because you presented yourself as one. You showed too much of yourself. We don't do that in here. You have to act hypocritical and look as if everybody else was worse than you."

Sinéad opened her eyes wide and wiped her tears: "But I don't want to be like that. I want to be myself!"

"Well, you saw how well it worked last night!" Smirked the lady with sarcasm.

"I don't care what you think!" Sinéad yelled at the portrait, "I don't care what anybody in this damned castle thinks! I'm here because I wanted to be here, because I wanted to help to protect Harry Potter. I don't need to impress a bunch of snobbish so-called professors to prove my value!"

A pair of blue eyes looked at her in astonishment from the doorway.

"Just socialising…" Sinéad groaned, an expression of well-pretended indifference on her face, "What can I help you with, Headmaster?"

"I wanted to humbly apologise for the unacceptable behaviour of my 'so-called' colleagues during last night's supper," Dumbledore looked really sad, "their behaviour was unjustifiable and horrid. I have spoken to them all this morning and explained to them the purpose of your stay. No one of them will condemn you anymore."

"Well then," Sinéad pretended not to care about what he said or not express her true feelings anymore, "is that all?"

"Not quite," Dumbledore sighed and sat on the guest-chair in her bedroom, "I wanted to discuss with you the issue of your surname, for you really should have one. Believe me, your status will be greatly undermined with the students if they discover you have none. Can you think up any?"

"What exactly is a surname?" Sinéad narrowed her eyes and she kept attention on her voice sounding as cold as possible.

"It is a name of your ancestors attached after your name."

"It would be Uí Bríain then. My father was always proudly stating that we are the descendants of the glorious king Brian Ború. But I suppose that doesn't interest you at all, Headmaster. Very well then, use that as my surname, if you please, I don't care. Now, if you would kindly excuse me, I am not feeling well." She said bitterly, her voice freezing with suppressed despair and left her own room as a proof of her own small victory this morning.

She kicked her shoes off as she was running down a small slope towards the Forbidden Forest. There was no other place to go for her. Perhaps, if she found some nice ghosts or spirits there, she could befriend them and they could plot a revenge on the proud wizards, that would give them a lesson. They should value me more, she said angrily in her head, they haven't seen yet what I can do! She ran briskly into the dark depths of the forest and felt she had to let off steam from her emotions.

"Oh-ooh, what do we get there?" A voice cut the silence of the forest. She quickly turned around and was facing a giant centaur, three heads bigger than herself, "a nice female human!" Other centaurs laughed mischievously in accord with their leader. He came closer to her and gently patted her cheek. "A pity you are a filthy human being, else I would take you as my spouse in this very moment…" He had a hard voice, dark wild eyes, brown-toned skin and well-defined muscles on his chest. She liked him. She wasn't afraid. She smiled.

"'Tis a very great pity, brother, I would wish to be as beautiful and strong as you are." At the word 'brother', the centaurs raged in fury and prepared their bows for a nice shoot. However, the chieftain raised his arm to stop them: "Not yet." He turned back to Sinéad. "Who are you, fair maiden? You don't seem to be one of them."

"Indeed one of them I am not," Sinéad smiled faintly and could feel herself falling slowly for the chieftains deep dark eyes.

"Show me who you are then." He breathed into her hair and she could smell his lovely essence as he bent closer to her. She stepped aside a few steps and all of a sudden she shot her arm forward. In that exact moment, a dying tree came back to life and grew its leaves and buds. She stamped her bare foot on the ground and a rug of flowers immediately covered the soil. She smiled and turned back to the chieftain. His eyes were wide with fear and anger.

"You monster!" He roared and all the centaur warriors began to tamp down their hooves as they were chasing after her.

"No! I am not a monster!" She cried in despair in her last attempt to vindicate herself. It was good for nothing, the centaurs began chasing after her, shooting their arrows. Her desperate mind tried hard to recall the Spirit of Wind, whom had always been obliging to provide help to her. It worked. A strong blow of wind threw her out of the forest. She saw the herd stopping and retreating back. Heh, she smirked, probably afraid too much of me…

But something was terribly wrong. The grass was covered in soft rime and the temperature was definitely a good few of degrees colder. Her own unhappiness and despair finally gained control over her mind and covered her face in agony.

And then…

Slimy mitts pulled her hands from her face and she was staring into the face of the most hideous creature she could ever imagine. Its lips were wide opened and they were sucking her life out of her. She was trembling with fear. Her irises were shaking in horror. She was too weak to defend herself. She knew she would die in any next moment. She closed her eyes slowly, ready to give up her life.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A strong shine forcibly penetrated her eyelids and her dread began to cease. The horrid creature rushed away from the silver animal that was attacking it. Sinéad narrowed her eyes in attempt to recognise the animal. It was a doe.

"You silly woman!" Spat out Snape and hurried to catch her as her body was weakly collapsing on the ground. "Fooling around with some Dementors, were you?!"

She smiled as he caught her in his arms, burying her face into his chest and grabbing firmly his frock. "Thank you, dear."

His face remained unchanged and he groaned: "I had better take you to your chamber, before you completely pass out." He took her in his arms and began walking slowly into the castle.

"You are curiously light." He murmured.

"That's because I haven't eaten anything since yesterday's lunch…" She breathed out, her voice weak and tired, but still sweet as a roasted caramel.

"You're truly doing your very best to kill yourself, you fool." He growled.

"Why don't you use your awesome wand to lift my foolish myself?" She smiled, half-mockingly with remembrance of the events of previous evening and how cruel he was towards her.

"Because I don't want to scare the last bits out of you by using magic," he growled, more annoyed than before. Taking it as the utmost evidence of his courtesy, she pretended she passed out while still feeling his gentle grasp and the fresh, minty scent of his body. She noticed how gently he placed her into her bed and carefully covered her with the blanket before actually drifting her mind to sweet sleep.

"How's your teaching going, Minerva?"

"It goes reasonably well, Albus, Sinéad learns quite quickly. She can read slowly all the letters now, sometimes she stammers when the word is too long, and she wouldn't be able to do any public reading in quite a few months, but she can now manage enough."

"I am delighted to hear that. She will need it. The students must trust her. Especially the ones of Slytherin, for they are rather probable to mock poor Sinéad as we unwisely let it happen by ourselves last night. We all must acknowledge we were mistaken and none such behaviour should be ever practised again, either by a student or by a staff. I shall have a word with our friend when she gets over the… unfortunate adventures which were undoubtedly provoked by our inappropriate treatment. I have to explain to her the school system and also encourage her to be less liable to be attacked verbally again. We must all acknowledge her high skills and abilities by broadening our minds beyond our conventional beliefs and this atmosphere should be created right now from this very moment. I can imagine that you all may doubt my words, since none of you seen Sinéad actually performing anything which you should honor her for. The most explanation would be that she can talk to spirits and therefore, discover the most hidden secrets of power of nature and she can make use of the spirits' magic too, and with her teaching us her kind of magic we can be stronger than Voldemort ever was and at the same time, we can help the world around us and be in sync with it. Is that what you need for your satisfaction?"

The teachers murmured and nodded. Severus Snape spoke.

"Don't you think that the Dementors' presence due to the escape of Sirius Black will be a dangerous element for our dearest supernatural colleague, Headmaster?"

"Yes, indeed," Dumbledore was lost in his thoughts, "I think the best we can do is to keep her safe, as well as the rest of the staff and the students which are not familiar with the Patronus charm. The Dementors shouldn't have access to the schoolgrounds since as far as I know, they are supposed to be guarding the entrances."

"How about Lupin?" Snape growled.

"With the help of the wolfsbane potion, I believe we would be able to handle the situation as well. Alas, I plan to engage Remus and Miss Uí Bríain together in their own special task," he winked. Snape smirked and was as agreeable as a cup of cold tea and never spoke again for the rest of the evening session.

Sinéad woke up at the middle of the night. She felt refreshed and ready to began her battle for recognition with the Hogwarts' staff again. She turned in her bed and noticed a piece of parchment on her bedside table. The handwriting was neat and elegant, but it could be perceived that its author took a good care that it would be readable for her.

Dear Madam, please accept my most sincere apology for our earlier encountering in the corridors as well as for the unlucky conversation during the supper. In case of your need of a further assistance of mine, please do not hesitate to ask.

That was all. Sinéad wasn't sure if the tone of the message actually meant something more than just a formal detached announcement. She spent so little time in their community, was this actually a way how they showed sympathy to a woman? Or was she overly optimistic again? She laid her bare feet onto the cold stone floor. She felt she needed to talk to the Spirit of Moon again. She was a lovely woman, red-haired as Sinéad herself was, and what is more, she was once a human as well, for some humans who weren't meant to die and were exceptionally good in their lives were afterwards turned to good spirits. The mortal name of the Spirit of the Moon had been Lily.