DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own many of the background
characters. Some of the characters (Taseia, Faellen, Kairn, Seth, Sienna
and yet another addition: Professor Mirillen in particular) I am the
creator and owner of. And just for this chapter: Deirdre and Pyre. So hands
off please. The rest are copyright to J. K. Rowling.
Author's Note: My, my! Quite the chapter last time, nay? Heh ^^. Well this one is more of an 'explanation' chapter. It clears a few things up and leaves a few more to be pondered. *evil grin* I can be so mean about that kind of stuff, hehe! Bwuah! And I love the chapter name! I couldn't help myself. It ties, in no way, to the themes of the story, but I just had to. Forgive me! Anywho, depending on the reviews I get from this one, I might have to make little explanations for the rest of my chars, but I think they'll be in separate books, because this one is more focused on Kairn for the moment. In case you didn't catch the subtle hint: review! Hehe ^__^
Mystixnight
Chapter 7 A Stroll Down Memory Lane
Pyre Sairet was a passionate man. Everything was black or white, there were no shades of gray. Things happened fast for him and right away he could always be sure, or at least he liked to think so. He worked as a free-lance professor. Money was never tight for him. He never needed much, anyway. A nomad, he loved the exhilaration of never knowing where he was going next.
Due to this nature he never did quite settle down. He came close though, once...
* * *
Deirdre Midas was only nineteen, only just starting her life. She had so many dreams! So many goals! She wanted... She wanted to write novels. The ideas drove her crazy sometimes as they swelled within her. Fiction novels.
It was not meant to be though. She was too timid; too afraid of stepping out into the world and letting it hurt her. And it could be so harsh, sometimes...
Her parents ran an Inn. It wasn't a full-time business, and they attracted little customers. Henceforth, the money flow was tight and there was little, if not nothing, to be spent on any indulgences.
* * *
The moment her emerald eyes locked on his own he was smitten. He loved her. He knew he did, and he knew, to the marrow of his bones, that she would love him back. She had to. How could she not?
Travelling once more, carrying nothing but a satchel in his hand and the clothes on his back, he had stopped at the cheapest Inn he could find. "The Midas Inn," the sign had read. "Service good as gold." He could have laughed, had he not been wary of innkeeper's opinion of him. The cheesy furniture, worn with age, and reeking of a smell he couldn't place, and wasn't sure he wanted to, the Midas Inn was anywhere near "golden".
Still, he had accepted a room, and followed the short, burly man to his quarters, repressing a smile or amusement at the raucous talk that was bursting forth from the lively man. Whether he was animated by natural liveliness or by drink, Pyre wasn't sure, but it didn't matter. He was beginning to like this man anyway. Always a fan of characters, Pyre was...
"Send the lady up in a moment to give ya some sup'!"
With those parting words and a spirited slam of the door, Arvin Midas set off back downstairs, his deep voice singing bar songs so gaudy that should any mother have heard, her child's ears would be sealed shut.
Pyre chuckled, gleefully; quite sure he was going to enjoy his stay. Shoving his few garments into the splintering wooden drawers of a wardrobe he awaited Arvin's wife and the sustenance she was supposed to bring along with her. Some hardy, home-cooked food would do him good...
Seated on the bed, Leaning back against the headboard, he let himself rest his eyes.
When a soft knock sounded on the door, he snapped out of a recent daydream, afflictions he suffered from quite frequently. He coughed, mumbling a welcome and looking upwards.
They crinkled up at the corners, a side effect from her wide smiles that was intriguing though even more-so endearing. Her eyes, that is.
"Soup tonight, vegetable with bread and some beef as well." Her voice sounded distant to him, being that he was still lost in those jaden orbs... Distant like the choirs of heaven are to mortal ears. So very beautiful it almost hurt to hear.
"I can get you a sandwich, it's not a problem..."
She spoke quickly, misunderstanding his silence. Pyre winced at the sound of her voice, which was in truth not out of the ordinary at all, but to him it was angelic. So deep in the infatuation, he was.
"No! No, soup is... It's fine."
Deirdre chuckled gently, stepping in through the doorway, and placing the tray gently on the table, the wood creaking at just that mild weight. She straightened her willowy frame, Pyre wondering from where she had inherited that height, as her father was so tiny. The mother?
She turned as she left the room to flash a grin. Pyre leaped up with such an intensity she started, startling eyes widening in surprise.
"Uh... Th-thankyou!" He gave a hopeful smile, so full of an almost puppy- ish need for approval she couldn't swallow a little laugh, at which Pyre blushed like a maiden and proceeded to cough in order to fill in his silence.
"Your welcome," she said, her voice all the soft kindness his affections deserved... She was used to this by now. "Enjoy your supper and ring that bell," she indicated to a little silver bell, cracked up the side, hanging in a corner. "When you need me to take the bowls away...
* * *
Pyre stayed the night. And the next. And the next after that. And many more. Almost six months he spent in that unruly little home. Guests came and guests left. Tempers flared as one after another young lad like Pyre would stop by, swoon at the sight of Deirdre, try to woo her, and eventually just leave. How many suitors came and went? Pyre lost track...
Deirdre didn't...
* * *
"You're tapping again, Pyre..." It was an observation, not a reprimand.
"Oh... Sorry, Dee. Can't help it sometimes." Pyre tore his gaze away from the window, reluctantly. He had been watching a merchants cart roll down the street. The last one to leave this month after the usual festivities...
Deirdre wasn't sure whether she looked pained or pleased when she said this... "You should go, Pyre. I see you watching the world go by. Life is too quiet for you here... Go on the way with the wind at your back..."
Pyre started, his eyes snapping quickly back into focus. He had never told her. Immediately, he was in denial. "I don't know wh-"
"Pyre, please... Spare me the innocence. You're a lot more transparent than you like to think you are. At least," she added with a smile, "to those who look close enough."
He grimaced, holding her gaze for but a moment, and then turned back to the window. Deirdre frowned. "Pyre! I thought we were better friends than this! You want to go, but you stay for me..." She laughed at the incredulous look he gave her, half of longing, half of horror. "You forget I've seen this in more men than you..." It was a half-truth though... She'd seen it. But never so deep. Never so stubborn. They had all left. He had stayed. At it was... That was important to her. He was still here... Because of her.
Pyre bit his tongue, standing up quickly and stalking closer to the window, hand running through his ebon hair. Deirdre's reflection appeared behind his own, golden hair, creamy skin, emerald eyes... His love, his passion, and at the same time his curse... He couldn't keep holding on like this. But how could he let her go.
Deirdre could feel him breaking and for a moment she wanted to stop her pushing... Ha said he wanted to stay with her, right? So let him! It was his choice and she wouldn't have to lose him. She bit her tongue in the silence, 'til the bittersweet taste of blood was in her mouth. With a shuddering breath she put a hand upon his shoulder. "Go... Go, please... You have so many dreams that you have to-"
She let out a yelp of surprise as he whipped around; gripping her shoulders harshly, his eyes burning into hers. She squirmed to try to release herself as he shook her, a pained expression upon his pallet. "What about your dreams, Deirdre?! You have to have dreams! Are you going to stay here forever? You can't live in your parents' home the rest of your life! You can't live ALONE the rest of your life! Live your life, Deirdre! Don't keep hiding from it!"
Involuntarily she let out a whimper of pain and Pyre let go immediately, staggering back as she clutched one of her arms, eyes closed tight, tears shimmering at the bottom of the lids. "Oh, Deirdre... I'm-" He stuttered. "Are you-" The words weren't coming... "Does it hurt?"
Was it a sob or a strangled laugh that Deirdre sounded? He couldn't tell... "It's not that, Pyre... It's not that..." It did hurt, she could even now feel the welt of a bruise rising under her fingers, but what hurt more was in her mind, or was it her heart? Nothing was making sense anymore. "I just... I just can't go, Pyre. Why can't you understand that?" His eyes begged her for an explanation, for a reason, for anything... But how could she tell him? Nothing had ever been reliable... At first the proclamations of love had been flattering and she had warmed to each man who showed affections. And every time they left... And every time she wept. And so every time she grew more set against taking that risk. Why was Pyre any different...? Her emerald eyes were glazed with tears as she watched him slump down into his chair, head in his hands.
Had time stopped? To Deirdre it seemed as though they were frozen there forever, the sorrow and confusion hanging in the air as tangible as the floor beneath her feet. And then, as though in slow motion, Pyre rose to his feet. His gaze was softer than she had expected though a resignation and a sadness was just inches below the surface. "Deirdre... I could walk out of here right now and never turn back. I could live my life a moment at a time, never take a wife and travel the globe... And I would be happy with what I was doing, but never with where I was... Because no matter where I go Deirdre, no matter how far I search... I'm never going to find a place any other place like this in the world... I'm never going to find another you..."
With another one of those slow, sad smiles that made her want o hold him and shriek at him at the same time, Pyre turned to the stairs. It was barely a sound; an indecipherable squeak of sorts, but it made him pause.
"Pyre... Have you ever been to Spain?" His eyes were answer enough, a curious negative. "Would you like to?" A shy grin that crinkled the corners of her eyes, eyes that held the stars within, peaked Deirdre's expression...
Pyre never did answer. There was not enough breath in him to reply as he enveloped Deirdre within his arms. But she seemed to take it as a yes, anyway...
* * *
Spain then France, then a brief stint in Russia followed suit. Egypt, Italy and Ireland are not to be forgotten either. Somewhere between Dublin and Hertfordshire Kairn was born... He was a hearty seven pounds eight ounces, not exactly a large child, but not a small one either. It had been November 1st, full seven months before the birth of another lad... The boy who lived.
Money was considerably tight afterwards. And it got even worse when Pyre quit his current teaching job, spur of the moment after a heated argument with a co-worker...
By that time there had been rumors enough circulating. Needed some help? Everyone knew where they could go if they were desperate enough... And even those who wanted nothing tangible. Whose only motive was power and greed. They sometimes strayed too... Pyre fell into the fray due to the first example. And once he realized it was a mistake, backing out was not an option. Deirdre knew of course. She didn't approve, of course. But what was there to do?
* * *
It was a full two years before it happened. One boy was about two, the other only one and a half or less. Pyre had dreaded and welcomed that day. Freed and afraid, what choice had they but to flee? They found them anyway. Those who had once been opposed against were now the opposers, themselves. They sought out those 'responsible' for years to come before they were finally satisfied that they had gotten them all. The hunt lasted maybe seven years. It only took five for them to find Pyre...
* * *
At seven years old, Kairn didn't understand at first. It took at least another three years for it to sink in. Deirdre, now a single parent and trying to raise a child and swallow her grief at once took a job as a cashier at Flourish and Blotts. Another four years later Kairn would receive a summons from a prestigious school that wished for his attendance. He didn't go. He couldn't leave his mother. Not like this. It was the next year, a year later than was the norm that Kairn said a concerned farewell to Deirdre and traveled to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
* * *
And that, I do believe... Brings you back to where we came in. Questions answered? Good... New questions formed? Even better...
Author's Note: My, my! Quite the chapter last time, nay? Heh ^^. Well this one is more of an 'explanation' chapter. It clears a few things up and leaves a few more to be pondered. *evil grin* I can be so mean about that kind of stuff, hehe! Bwuah! And I love the chapter name! I couldn't help myself. It ties, in no way, to the themes of the story, but I just had to. Forgive me! Anywho, depending on the reviews I get from this one, I might have to make little explanations for the rest of my chars, but I think they'll be in separate books, because this one is more focused on Kairn for the moment. In case you didn't catch the subtle hint: review! Hehe ^__^
Mystixnight
Chapter 7 A Stroll Down Memory Lane
Pyre Sairet was a passionate man. Everything was black or white, there were no shades of gray. Things happened fast for him and right away he could always be sure, or at least he liked to think so. He worked as a free-lance professor. Money was never tight for him. He never needed much, anyway. A nomad, he loved the exhilaration of never knowing where he was going next.
Due to this nature he never did quite settle down. He came close though, once...
* * *
Deirdre Midas was only nineteen, only just starting her life. She had so many dreams! So many goals! She wanted... She wanted to write novels. The ideas drove her crazy sometimes as they swelled within her. Fiction novels.
It was not meant to be though. She was too timid; too afraid of stepping out into the world and letting it hurt her. And it could be so harsh, sometimes...
Her parents ran an Inn. It wasn't a full-time business, and they attracted little customers. Henceforth, the money flow was tight and there was little, if not nothing, to be spent on any indulgences.
* * *
The moment her emerald eyes locked on his own he was smitten. He loved her. He knew he did, and he knew, to the marrow of his bones, that she would love him back. She had to. How could she not?
Travelling once more, carrying nothing but a satchel in his hand and the clothes on his back, he had stopped at the cheapest Inn he could find. "The Midas Inn," the sign had read. "Service good as gold." He could have laughed, had he not been wary of innkeeper's opinion of him. The cheesy furniture, worn with age, and reeking of a smell he couldn't place, and wasn't sure he wanted to, the Midas Inn was anywhere near "golden".
Still, he had accepted a room, and followed the short, burly man to his quarters, repressing a smile or amusement at the raucous talk that was bursting forth from the lively man. Whether he was animated by natural liveliness or by drink, Pyre wasn't sure, but it didn't matter. He was beginning to like this man anyway. Always a fan of characters, Pyre was...
"Send the lady up in a moment to give ya some sup'!"
With those parting words and a spirited slam of the door, Arvin Midas set off back downstairs, his deep voice singing bar songs so gaudy that should any mother have heard, her child's ears would be sealed shut.
Pyre chuckled, gleefully; quite sure he was going to enjoy his stay. Shoving his few garments into the splintering wooden drawers of a wardrobe he awaited Arvin's wife and the sustenance she was supposed to bring along with her. Some hardy, home-cooked food would do him good...
Seated on the bed, Leaning back against the headboard, he let himself rest his eyes.
When a soft knock sounded on the door, he snapped out of a recent daydream, afflictions he suffered from quite frequently. He coughed, mumbling a welcome and looking upwards.
They crinkled up at the corners, a side effect from her wide smiles that was intriguing though even more-so endearing. Her eyes, that is.
"Soup tonight, vegetable with bread and some beef as well." Her voice sounded distant to him, being that he was still lost in those jaden orbs... Distant like the choirs of heaven are to mortal ears. So very beautiful it almost hurt to hear.
"I can get you a sandwich, it's not a problem..."
She spoke quickly, misunderstanding his silence. Pyre winced at the sound of her voice, which was in truth not out of the ordinary at all, but to him it was angelic. So deep in the infatuation, he was.
"No! No, soup is... It's fine."
Deirdre chuckled gently, stepping in through the doorway, and placing the tray gently on the table, the wood creaking at just that mild weight. She straightened her willowy frame, Pyre wondering from where she had inherited that height, as her father was so tiny. The mother?
She turned as she left the room to flash a grin. Pyre leaped up with such an intensity she started, startling eyes widening in surprise.
"Uh... Th-thankyou!" He gave a hopeful smile, so full of an almost puppy- ish need for approval she couldn't swallow a little laugh, at which Pyre blushed like a maiden and proceeded to cough in order to fill in his silence.
"Your welcome," she said, her voice all the soft kindness his affections deserved... She was used to this by now. "Enjoy your supper and ring that bell," she indicated to a little silver bell, cracked up the side, hanging in a corner. "When you need me to take the bowls away...
* * *
Pyre stayed the night. And the next. And the next after that. And many more. Almost six months he spent in that unruly little home. Guests came and guests left. Tempers flared as one after another young lad like Pyre would stop by, swoon at the sight of Deirdre, try to woo her, and eventually just leave. How many suitors came and went? Pyre lost track...
Deirdre didn't...
* * *
"You're tapping again, Pyre..." It was an observation, not a reprimand.
"Oh... Sorry, Dee. Can't help it sometimes." Pyre tore his gaze away from the window, reluctantly. He had been watching a merchants cart roll down the street. The last one to leave this month after the usual festivities...
Deirdre wasn't sure whether she looked pained or pleased when she said this... "You should go, Pyre. I see you watching the world go by. Life is too quiet for you here... Go on the way with the wind at your back..."
Pyre started, his eyes snapping quickly back into focus. He had never told her. Immediately, he was in denial. "I don't know wh-"
"Pyre, please... Spare me the innocence. You're a lot more transparent than you like to think you are. At least," she added with a smile, "to those who look close enough."
He grimaced, holding her gaze for but a moment, and then turned back to the window. Deirdre frowned. "Pyre! I thought we were better friends than this! You want to go, but you stay for me..." She laughed at the incredulous look he gave her, half of longing, half of horror. "You forget I've seen this in more men than you..." It was a half-truth though... She'd seen it. But never so deep. Never so stubborn. They had all left. He had stayed. At it was... That was important to her. He was still here... Because of her.
Pyre bit his tongue, standing up quickly and stalking closer to the window, hand running through his ebon hair. Deirdre's reflection appeared behind his own, golden hair, creamy skin, emerald eyes... His love, his passion, and at the same time his curse... He couldn't keep holding on like this. But how could he let her go.
Deirdre could feel him breaking and for a moment she wanted to stop her pushing... Ha said he wanted to stay with her, right? So let him! It was his choice and she wouldn't have to lose him. She bit her tongue in the silence, 'til the bittersweet taste of blood was in her mouth. With a shuddering breath she put a hand upon his shoulder. "Go... Go, please... You have so many dreams that you have to-"
She let out a yelp of surprise as he whipped around; gripping her shoulders harshly, his eyes burning into hers. She squirmed to try to release herself as he shook her, a pained expression upon his pallet. "What about your dreams, Deirdre?! You have to have dreams! Are you going to stay here forever? You can't live in your parents' home the rest of your life! You can't live ALONE the rest of your life! Live your life, Deirdre! Don't keep hiding from it!"
Involuntarily she let out a whimper of pain and Pyre let go immediately, staggering back as she clutched one of her arms, eyes closed tight, tears shimmering at the bottom of the lids. "Oh, Deirdre... I'm-" He stuttered. "Are you-" The words weren't coming... "Does it hurt?"
Was it a sob or a strangled laugh that Deirdre sounded? He couldn't tell... "It's not that, Pyre... It's not that..." It did hurt, she could even now feel the welt of a bruise rising under her fingers, but what hurt more was in her mind, or was it her heart? Nothing was making sense anymore. "I just... I just can't go, Pyre. Why can't you understand that?" His eyes begged her for an explanation, for a reason, for anything... But how could she tell him? Nothing had ever been reliable... At first the proclamations of love had been flattering and she had warmed to each man who showed affections. And every time they left... And every time she wept. And so every time she grew more set against taking that risk. Why was Pyre any different...? Her emerald eyes were glazed with tears as she watched him slump down into his chair, head in his hands.
Had time stopped? To Deirdre it seemed as though they were frozen there forever, the sorrow and confusion hanging in the air as tangible as the floor beneath her feet. And then, as though in slow motion, Pyre rose to his feet. His gaze was softer than she had expected though a resignation and a sadness was just inches below the surface. "Deirdre... I could walk out of here right now and never turn back. I could live my life a moment at a time, never take a wife and travel the globe... And I would be happy with what I was doing, but never with where I was... Because no matter where I go Deirdre, no matter how far I search... I'm never going to find a place any other place like this in the world... I'm never going to find another you..."
With another one of those slow, sad smiles that made her want o hold him and shriek at him at the same time, Pyre turned to the stairs. It was barely a sound; an indecipherable squeak of sorts, but it made him pause.
"Pyre... Have you ever been to Spain?" His eyes were answer enough, a curious negative. "Would you like to?" A shy grin that crinkled the corners of her eyes, eyes that held the stars within, peaked Deirdre's expression...
Pyre never did answer. There was not enough breath in him to reply as he enveloped Deirdre within his arms. But she seemed to take it as a yes, anyway...
* * *
Spain then France, then a brief stint in Russia followed suit. Egypt, Italy and Ireland are not to be forgotten either. Somewhere between Dublin and Hertfordshire Kairn was born... He was a hearty seven pounds eight ounces, not exactly a large child, but not a small one either. It had been November 1st, full seven months before the birth of another lad... The boy who lived.
Money was considerably tight afterwards. And it got even worse when Pyre quit his current teaching job, spur of the moment after a heated argument with a co-worker...
By that time there had been rumors enough circulating. Needed some help? Everyone knew where they could go if they were desperate enough... And even those who wanted nothing tangible. Whose only motive was power and greed. They sometimes strayed too... Pyre fell into the fray due to the first example. And once he realized it was a mistake, backing out was not an option. Deirdre knew of course. She didn't approve, of course. But what was there to do?
* * *
It was a full two years before it happened. One boy was about two, the other only one and a half or less. Pyre had dreaded and welcomed that day. Freed and afraid, what choice had they but to flee? They found them anyway. Those who had once been opposed against were now the opposers, themselves. They sought out those 'responsible' for years to come before they were finally satisfied that they had gotten them all. The hunt lasted maybe seven years. It only took five for them to find Pyre...
* * *
At seven years old, Kairn didn't understand at first. It took at least another three years for it to sink in. Deirdre, now a single parent and trying to raise a child and swallow her grief at once took a job as a cashier at Flourish and Blotts. Another four years later Kairn would receive a summons from a prestigious school that wished for his attendance. He didn't go. He couldn't leave his mother. Not like this. It was the next year, a year later than was the norm that Kairn said a concerned farewell to Deirdre and traveled to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
* * *
And that, I do believe... Brings you back to where we came in. Questions answered? Good... New questions formed? Even better...
