"I don't know what you were thinking. Contrary to popular belief, the private lives of your professors are of no concern to the students, and you, as a student, have no right to judge or comment on it. Certainly not in the manner you chose. You insulted two professors this evening, young man. And yes, I am deeply insulted by what you said.
"Do you believe that just because I was friends with your parents, that you have the right to decide my life? I hate to disappoint you, Harry, but you don't. You have no right. Nor do you have the right to disparage a perfectly brilliant Potions Master, simply because of the latest gossip you've heard around the school.
"I simply have no idea what you were thinking, except that you weren't thinking at all. Once again, you've you're your temper without thinking about what was going on. It is more than obvious that you do not get along with Draco Malfoy, and yet once again, you've allowed him to goad you into getting into an altercation. Do you ever learn?
"No, I suppose not. For your punishment, young man, you will pen a letter of apology to both myself and to Professor Snape, to be delivered by your hand tomorrow. In addition, you will be serving detentions with me for the remainder of the term. Is that understood?"
Harry nodded.
"Good. Now, are you ready to speak civilly?"
Harry nodded from his chair in the front row of her classroom where he had been sitting silently for nearly an hour. He was still mad, but he wanted his voice back.
"Good. I will remove the spell, but remember, if you decide to finish the tirade you began in Hogsmeade, you will find yourself unable to speak again. Understand?"
Harry nodded again. O'Shaughnessy flicked her wand at him.
"Finite Silencio." She leaned against her desk. "Now, Harry, what do you have to say?"
Harry cleared his throat, making sure he really did have his voice back. Satisfied, he looked up at the professor.
"How can you just leave Sirius for Snape? You were engaged to him!"
O'Shaughnessy sighed.
"Harry, Sirius had no right to tell you about our past together, and I will let him know that next time we speak, but as far as you are concerned-"
"Sirius didn't tell me."
"He didn't?" She looked surprised. "How did you find out?"
"Dumbledore."
"I find that highly unlikely."
"No, really." He didn't want to get Sirius in trouble for something he hadn't done. "When you sent me to his office, he wasn't there. I saw his penseive. You were asking him to walk you down that aisle. For your wedding. With Sirius."
She seemed to soften a little at the memory.
"Harry, that was years and years ago. Things changed in that time. Sirius understands that. And he certainly doesn't need you to stand up for him. He can do that on his own." She stood up and crossed the room, handing him his wand. "Now, I believe it is nearly time for dinner. Why don't you get a move on?"
Harry retrieved his cloak from the back of his chair and moved toward the door. He didn't want to remain in her presence any longer than he had to. Quickly, he crossed the room, but as he reached for the door, she stopped him.
"Harry, I don't know if it will make you feel any better, but I'm not in any relationship with Professor Snape. I promise you that."
He looked back at her. It was obvious that she was trying to make him feel better. And, perhaps she was telling the truth, but he was still upset about what he had heard. She was leaving Sirius. After everything he had been through, and everything he meant to Harry, she wasn't even giving him a chance. He thought about it for just a moment, but dismissed. He knew the next words out of his mouth would hurt her, and he was glad for it. He wanted to hurt her.
"Professor, My Aunt Petunia may not really care anything for me, but at least she's loyal. She wouldn't leave my uncle just because she didn't see him for a while, or if someone better came along." He didn't honestly know if that was true. He didn't really know her at all, but the words had done the trick. Professor O'Shaughnessy's face fell.
Harry shut the door quickly behind him. He didn't want to see the harm he had done.
Moira collapsed against her desk, anger rippling through her body. She tensed, needing an outlet before she exploded in fury. Grabbing a book from her desk, she flung it across the room. It smacked the wall with a loud WHAP, before falling to the ground. It didn't back her feel much better, but it straightened her thinking a little.
Emotion, certainly anger, would get her nowhere. It clouded the mind when logic needed desperately to take hold, but Harry certainly wasn't helping matters any. She leaned her head down into her hands, trying to think logically. Resources needed to be ordered and categorized. What were her remaining connections? What could be useful? What tools did she have? Automatically, her hand reached out for parchment and quill.
Snape. Death Eater. He was certainly useful as far as information concerning the circle, but as far as locating Remus, she wasn't sure how trusted he was by Voldemort. His information would be limited, at best.
Ministry. Limited at best. According to Dumbledore, Fudge seemed determined not to get involved. Unlikely to provide manpower, especially to a retired Auror who had simply disappeared for a number of years. Trusted Aurors? Alastor Moody (possibly crazy), Mundungus Fletcher (possibly provide current information, if not crazy), Arabella Figg
Moira stared down at the name. She hadn't been an Auror, but she had always been useful in collating information. Perhaps she could check out holdings of known Death Eaters, see if any matched Snape's description of the 'Stonghold.'
Students.
She dropped her quill in disgust. Her placement in the school was limiting her. So far, nothing the students did was helpful to her, especially as far as locating Remus. None of her usual methods of interrogation could be used on them, certainly not without afflicting great harm. And if she tried, parents would be alarmed.
Parents. Parents would be alarmed of a threat to their children. They become emotional. They make mistakes.
Moira strode across the room to her private office, lit a fire, and dropped a spring of Floo Powder into the flames. When they burst into an emerald color, she spoke.
"Albus, do you have the list of students staying over the holidays yet?"
"Yes, Moira. Just a moment." There was silence, then: "I have it right here."
"Which Slytherin students will be staying with us?"
More silence as he looked over the list.
"None," he answered incredulously.
Moira was surprised. It was certainly not what she had expected.
"None? You're positive? Is that normal?"
"No, Moira, that's not normal at all."