"As you know, your potions have aged a good month and three days, so I
trust we can continue with our lesson." Snape stood before his class, arms
akimbo. "The next step is quite simple. In your groups, I want each of
you to take a hair of one of the other members. For example," Snape
paused, looking around the classroom. "For example, Malfoy will take one
of Goyle's hairs, Goyle will take one of Crabbe's, and Crabbe will take one
of Malfoy's. I trust that is not so difficult?" Snape asked with a raised
eyebrow, almost daring anyone to object. No sound came from the assembled
students. "Good. Now, once that simple task is completed, you will put
the hair into the glass in front of you. Fill the glass half full of the
potion, and drink." Another pause. "I trust that even a undertaking as
simple as that will be bungled by some of you." His gaze took in Ron
Weasely and Harry Potter, skipping over Hermione Granger. "I warn you it
tastes nasty, so be prepared. It's best if you toss it down your throat as
quickly as possible."
Goyle chortled. "Like taking a shot?" he asked.
Snape glowered at him. "Much like taking a shot, Mister Goyle. If you paid enough attention to your schoolwork as you do to drinking, you might actually have a decent grade in this class." Goyle promptly shut up.
"Now, begin."
Padma Patil was the next one to raise her hand. "So you mean we actually have to drink the hair?" she asked with a disgusted look on her face.
Snape smiled a thin-lipped smile. "Yes, Miss Patil. It's hard to believe you have such an aversion to drinking hair when last week I caught you with your tongue in Mister Weasely's mouth. The human mouth is far more disgusting than hair is, you understand."
Padma went bright red and yanked a single hair out of her head. Ron looked ashamed as well. Snape smiled inwardly. He was quite proud of his ability to completely cow students by just looking at them and cocking an eyebrow. It took skill, and he had perfected it to a tee.
As he walked around the classroom his thoughts wandered. He had found out a good many things about his colleague that morning, and he was now more than sure of her allegiance to Voldemort. However, there could be no formal denunciation without hard proof, and he knew just how to get that. He was distracted from his thoughts by a raised hand. "Yes, Miss Granger."
"Professor, what would happen if you accidentally used an animal hair instead of a human hair?"
Snape put his thumb to his lips as if thinking. "It would be a very serious mistake on your part if you were to do so. Polyjuice Potion is only to be used with things certified to come from a human being. Although it would change you into the outward form of an animal, the transformation will not fade within the allotted hour. Another more difficult potion must be brewed in order to counteract the animal DNA. Isn't that true, Miss Granger?"
Hermione shrugged. "I don't know, Professor."
Snape nodded once. "Now, on the count of three, I want you all the drink. To ease your frustrations about transforming, I have taken the liberty of...borrowing some of Professor Sinistra's hair." Snape strode back to his desk and took a glass off of it. "It is already in the glass." His next stop was at Harry, Ron, and Hermione's cauldron. He ladled the glass half full of the sickly-looking potion and swirled it around. The students followed in his example.
Snape took a deep breath. "One." Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. "Two." Dean Thomas swallowed deeply; Snape could see unease written over his features. "Three." Snape tossed the brownish liquid to the back of his throat like he was taking a shot of alcohol. He swallowed once and grimaced. One could never become accustomed to the taste. It was like drinking sewage. All around him students groaned, grimaced, or held their stomachs trying not to vomit. Seamus Finnegan was at the sink in the back, hanging his head over the rim.
One by one, the students began to transform into one another. Snape could feel himself shortening by a good six inches. His hair shortened, becoming close cropped and brown. His robes felt three sizes too long. Snape shook his head quickly. No matter how many times he had used Polyjuice, he could never fully get used to the sensations that came with it. He knew he was the same inside; his voice and thoughts were his own, but the completely different outward appearance always startled him.
All the students had seemed to finish their transformation as well. Many of them gazed at each other in astonished shock. "I-I'm a boy," he heard Hermione Granger say. However, Hermione now looked like Harry.
"Perfect," Snape heard himself say. It had gone over without a hitch. Normally he had someone turning into an animal, or sicking up all over themselves. One by one each head turned to face him. "As you can see, you are still yourself inwardly. Your voices are the same, as Miss Granger has just proven. A whole other potion must be brewed if you want to change your voice, but it is quite difficult and will not be attempted until your seventh year." He could see Goyle shaking his head in apparent disbelief. At least he thought it was Goyle. It looked like Crabbe; for all he knew it could be Malfoy.
"Now, if you think you can pull off a prank of some sort using these ingredients, let me warn you I have everything under lock and key. After a theft five years ago I have also taken to putting wards on my supplies, most of which are very nasty." He took a moment to reflect on one particular one that would make anyone who touched the cabinet except him break out in an uncomfortable rash all over their face. "Also, to buy them, you have to be over eighteen, thus a full wizard." He grinned smugly. "So I believe all of you are out of luck." He checked the watch on his wrist, noting the time.
"I want twelve inches on the steps used to make a Polyjuice potion, as well as the effects and drawbacks. You will all change back in about forty-five minutes. Clean your cauldrons and stay quiet until the bell rings." A rush of students to the sink made him shout his next words: "I want this classroom as clean as when you came in, or I will take fifty points from both houses!" He would really do no such thing; it was just a threat. He had no qualms about deducting so much from Gryffindor, but taking fifty points away from Slytherin, his own house, was another thing entirely.
He walked back to his desk, cursing the too-long robe. He sat down and pulled out a quill pen and a bottle of red ink. Back to grading. Most of the students had improved in their homework, but a few had actually gone downhill. Malfoy and his cronies were three of the six or seven who were a centimeter close to being kicked out of his class. Granger, as usual, was making the highest marks, followed, surprisingly, by Ron Weasely. Obviously the boy had taken his threat at the beginning of the year seriously. Potter was in the top half, although Snape would never admit it out loud. Anything that came even close to praising the boy would never come out of his mouth. Not after what happened last year with the pensieve. Snape would find it difficult to ever trust the boy again. Potter felt he was above the rules; things must be bent for him. Snape felt that one of his personal missions in life was to bring James Potter's son into the real world and deflate the child's big head.
He let his thoughts turn away from Harry Potter, who was vigorously scrubbing his cauldron, and flow to something more pressing. Aislinn O'Flannery, or O'Flannabhra, was a problem that needed to be dealt with immediately. It had come as a shock to him to find out who her parents were; he had met Alastair O'Flannery years ago the day after he had taken the Dark Mark. Alastair had been Voldemort's right hand, or close enough. Alastair had been dead a good sixteen years; he had been killed in one of the last battles before Voldemort fell. Aislinn's mother, Bean Mhi Shaughnessy-O'Flannery, was currently imprisoned in Azkaban along with Aislinn's older brother Richard. Almost every member of her family, except for a few cousins in Dublin, had been Death Eaters at one point or another. Severus remembered a close companion, Will Murphy, who had taken the Dark Mark the same night Severus did. Sean had died three years later, in a skirmish between Aurors and Death Eaters. It was only today he learned that Sean had been Aislinn's second cousin.
A bell cut through his reverie. His dark eyes scanned the classroom as students grabbed their bags and hurried out. Most had begun to change into themselves again; Weasely's telltale red hair graced Hermione's swiftly changing face. Snape chuckled evilly at the thought of sending these transforming students into O'Flannery's Defense class. He hoped she would be confused, even better if she was angry. He had been hoping for a confrontation for a few weeks now. He wanted to get her flustered, he wanted to see if she would admit anything if her anger made her lose control. He had found himself surreptitiously studying her at meals, watching her face for any expression. If only he could somehow see her arm...
He looked up to see timid first year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws taking their seats. Fear was in their eyes. He wanted to cackle. Today, everything seemed to be going all right.
A large smile spread across Aislinn's face as she read the letter one last time. Yankee Doodle had done his job well, although the letter he brought back with him was poorly timed. So he's coming back from Spain sooner than I thought. He should be arriving a bit before dinner, then. Aislinn wanted to dance. Finally, someone to talk to, she thought as her grin widened, if that was at all possible. She put the letter on top of a pile of papers and put them all underneath her arm. A bit of grading would pass the time before her friend got here, if she could keep her mind on the task at hand.
She sashayed down the hallway, quietly humming a tune to a song she had been working on. She fairly jumped up the stairs, gripping the sheaf of papers under her arm tightly. It would not help to lose them all on the stairs. When she reached her door, she snapped her fingers, removing wards, and executed a neat turn before turning the handle. A blast of freezing air hit her in the face. The window was wide open; Yankee Doodle was perched on the back of her chair, watching her with his huge golden eyes. Aislinn waved to him, and he clacked his beak in return. She laid the papers on her desk and searched around for a red pen. She cursed silently when she failed to find one. I must have left it back in the classroom, she thought, not wanting to climb down the stairs again. She didn't think using a Summoning spell would work either; she would end up with half the pens in the school piling up in front of her door. She grinned. That might be fun to try sometime.
She closed the door behind her, not bothering to reset wards. She was only going to be gone for a few minutes; not enough time for anyone to pull a prank. Yankee was fiercely protective; he would probably dive at anyone that came in the room except her. Her feet slapped the stones as she ran down the hallway and took the stairs two at a time. She arrived in front of her classroom, fairly breathless, and leaned against the door a minute before removing its wards and stepping inside. Nothing was out of order, and her red pen was on her desk, where she had left it. Aislinn smiled to herself; her inner child was always forgetting things. She continued humming her song as she returned to her room, both pen and ink in her hand. She stopped short when she saw her door open. The song was driven from her mind as she flattened herself against a wall, wand ready in her other hand to blast whoever it was into last week. She steeled herself for an attack as she inched along. I can do this. Student or not, I'll just stun them... She jumped in front of the door, wand ready to curse. Suddenly, her wand arm dropped to her side. "So."
"So," came the reply. The man sat at the desk, his worn robes hanging open exposing black trousers and a collared shirt. He looked young, but his light brown hair was streaked with gray. He smirked at her. "Dumbledore pointed me the right way, and I figured I could just come in."
Aislinn frowned at Yankee Doodle, who was preening his feathers. "Good for nothing bird," she muttered. She turned her gaze back to the man in her chair. A smile lit up his face and she smiled back. "You always assume, Remus. What if I had a ward of some sort planted?" He rose. "I knew you wouldn't." He was about six feet tall; Aislinn could look him right in the eye. "I know you well, Ashy, in case you've forgotten."
Aislinn grimaced. "If you call me 'Ashy' again, Moony, I fear I will have to curse you, and badly." She grinned, and embraced him tightly. "I missed you," she murmured into his ear.
"Every day without speaking to you was torture," whispered Remus, and kissed her cheek. Aislinn burst out in laughter, her whole body shaking against that of her friend's.
"Liar," she muttered with a smile on her face. "You know as good as I do that every moment you spent away from me was a breath of fresh air. No doubt you were going out on dates every night with those sexy Spaniards."
Remus Lupin shook his head. "Hardly. You see, I was there on business. I spent most of my time not around beautiful people, but around wizard bureaucrats from the Ministry. I wish I had your skill for languages."
Aislinn shrugged and said, "You know, it's never too late to learn." She released Remus and turned to the bed. "I'd offer you a place to sit, but the bed seems to be taken over, as does the chair." She intimated the lump in the middle of the bed sheets, and Lupin smiled. Yankee Doodle, who was perched on the back of her chair, screeched as if to draw attention back to him. Aislinn waved him quiet with a dismissive gesture as she snuck up to the bed, padding on silent feet. She raised her arms high over her head, and with a sudden shriek she brought them down on either side of the mysterious blob in the bed.
The lump shot up the bed, towards the headboard, and out from underneath the comforter. Aislinn stepped back, arms akimbo, and Remus smiled. "You still have that good-for-nothing cat, I see," he said. The cat in question stood on Aislinn's pillow, fur standing on end.
"It's me, Bo," Aislinn said and sat down on the edge of her bed. She was joined by Lupin, and the cat curled up in her lap. "What's the word from the Spanish Ministry?"
Lupin shook his head. "No good news. Minister Ortega seems to think Voldemort's return is some kind of elaborate fabrication planned by Death Eaters. He's refused aid until we have 'concrete proof.' That's the way he put it. As if we're fucking overreacting."
Aislinn reached out and touched his face. "Calm down, dear. He's not going to change his decision just because you fret about it."
"God, Aislinn, will you please drop that hideous fake accent," Lupin grimaced.
"Fine. If y' wanted me t' drop it, y' could've jest asked," Aislinn responded, waving her hand in a halfhearted gesture of agitation. Lupin shrugged, and reached out to stroke the cat still in his friend's lap.
"How did he ever survive?" Lupin asked, underneath his breath.
Aislinn looked at him for a moment; a considering gaze. "Because 'e didn't give up, Remus. We never give up."
Remus Lupin raised his eyes and gazed right into Aislinn's. "Keep drawing breath, I guess." He sighed, remarking, "I just don't know how you were able to do it. Sometimes I can barely live with my own actions, let alone those of my family." He gave her a lopsided grin. "By the way, Albus wants to talk to you about something. After that, you have to sing me a song, or else."
"Then yeer comin' wit' me, old man. If I have t' play y' a song, y' can at least keep me company while th' 'eadmaster is asking whatever 'e's asking."
Remus shrugged, and got to his feet. Aislinn pushed the cat off her lap, and took her friend's proffered hand. She muttered a thank you, and held the door open for Remus, sealing wards behind him with a waving of her fingers and two swift snaps. She began singing a song underneath her breath as she walked the corridors, Lupin close behind her.
"Do ye miss Sirius Black?" she asked suddenly, and Remus stumbled.
"Aislinn, that's a stupid question if I ever heard one. He was one of my best friends, Aislinn. If you were to lose, say, Fionnuala, wouldn't you feel a giant hole in your heart?" Remus shook his head. "I can't believe you even asked that question."
"Don't y' be thinkin' me stupid, Remus. I've lost more than ye've ever imagined."
"I forget Aislinn. It's hard to remember all the shit you've been through, believe me." Remus gave her a grin, and slid his arm around her shoulders as they passed into Dumbledore's chambers.
Albus Dumbledore was sitting in an overstuffed chair, gazing over his spectacles at Aislinn and Remus as they entered. His face lit up in a smile. "Both of you, please, sit. It's so wonderful to have you back, Remus, if only for a short time. Aislinn, dear, I have something to ask of you. As you have stated to me previously, in your work as an Auror you were trained in the skill of Occlumency. One of our students needs that skill, and badly. I believe you might know him?"
Aislinn fixed Albus with a penetrating gaze. Her false accent slipped into place as she addressed her superior. "Just who is this student, if I may inquire, Headmaster?"
Albus smiled. "He's a sixth year Defense student. His name is Harry Potter." He winked at Remus, who shook his head slightly.
"Harry Potter?" asked Aislinn, confused. "I can understand why, but why choose me?"
Dumbledore sighed. "He was originally being taught by Severus, but their relationship is not what I would call friendly. There was a breach in trust and Severus vowed to never teach young Mr. Potter again. That is why I am asking you, Miss O'Flannery. If I had anyone else, I would go you them first. I know you have many unsavory memories you don't want to relive, but this boy needs the protection Occlumency can give him."
Professor O'Flannery sighed. "He does have detention tonight with me, as he does for the rest of the week. It would be a good of time as any to start the lessons." Remus Lupin squeezed her hand, and Aislinn glanced at him quickly, flashing a smile.
"If I may inquire, Remus, will you be staying for dinner?" Albus asked.
Lupin nodded. "I believe I will be, Headmaster. And I need to inquire of you as well. Will the Order be meeting tonight?" When Albus nodded, Lupin continued. "Here, or in London?"
Albus gestured with a finger. "Here, my good sir. I have no desire to go to London tonight; it's supposed to rain, and Heaven knows what the damp does to my joints." Dumbledore beamed at both of them. "Thank you both very much, especially you, Aislinn. I hope it's no inconvenience."
Aislinn flashed a smile, but inside her mind rebelled. She slipped her arm around Lupin, and steeled herself for her lesson later that night.
Harry waited outside the door to Professor O'Flannery's classroom, preparing himself for the obvious long night ahead of him. He gave himself a shake, and knocked on the door. It opened automatically, and Harry stepped inside. Aislinn was silhouetted against a window, her arms crossed over her chest. Her school robes had been discarded, tossed over a chair as though it was refuse. She rubbed her arms as though she was cold, although Harry found it stifling in the room. "Professor?" he asked timidly.
She turned, fixing Harry with a cold stare. "I see you decided to come after all." Her voice was cold. "You're late. I should dock points for that, but I'm not in mood. Instead, you will just have to work extra hard tonight, won't you?" Her tone of voice left no room for discussion. Harry nodded, and she continued swiftly. "I have been asked to teach you something which, if I am not wrong, you had begun last year. Professor Snape has sworn to never teach you in it again, so the torch has been passed to me." She intimated a seat. "Sit," she ordered.
Harry followed her finger, and noticed a large bowl-like thing sitting on the middle of the desk. His heart seemed to skip a beat. It was the pensieve. That meant only one thing: Occlumency. "A-are we going to...use that?" Harry asked, confused.
Aislinn turned from the window. "No. You will not be using that." She waited a moment. "I told you to sit, boyo."
Harry hurried to a seat, and Aislinn strode to the other one directly across from him. "Headmaster Dumbledore has asked me to continue your lessons in Occlumency, and since I seem to be the only witch in this bloody school that has the talent, I fear I must do it." She must have noticed the grimace on Harry's face, for she added, "Believe me, I don't want to do it either. Since you're convinced I'm a Death Eater, we might be a bit biased in this examination. But my mind wanders. Let us return to the topic at hand."
Harry waited. If this were to be anything like last year, Aislinn would pull out her worst thoughts to put into the pensieve, while Harry was stuck with all the unpleasant ones free for the taking. He sighed. "I guess it has to be done, Professor."
O'Flannery screwed up her face. "Indeed, it must be done. Now, Dumbledore let me borrow his pensieve for storing my unpleasant thoughts, but I don't believe it's fair for me to get rid of mine and you have to keep yours. Thus, I shall not be using it either." She pushed it out of the way. Harry stared at her incredulously. She smiled a thin-lipped smile, pulling her hair back in a deft movement. "Now you know how the process works. I'd give you an outline of what I will be doing to your head, but it will be no different than what Professor Snape tried." She paused as if considering something. "Except for the asinine and condescending comments, of course."
Against his will, he found himself smiling. As much as he hated to admit it, she was a very good instructor and a fairly easy-going person, despite her obvious attachment to the Death Eaters.
Aislinn cleared her throat. "I expect to find harsh memories. You should not be afraid, as I have many as well. As for the Death Eater incident, I trust you shall find out soon enough." Professor O'Flannery took a deep breath. "Now, get ready."
Harry tensed his fists. I don't want to know. I don't want to know...
"One."
He took a deep breath. I don't want her inside my head. I don't want her to know I feel akin to her...
"Two."
I don't know what to say. I should stop this now...I don't need it...I-
"Three. Legilimens!"
The force of Aislinn's intrusion into his thoughts flung him against the back of his chair. The nasty memory of Dudley forcing him into the toilet resurfaced, as did the memories of the constant beatings he had suffered at his brutal cousin's hands. He struggled to push his Professor out of his head, casting the Patronus charm indirectly. Suddenly, the presence in his head was gone.
She was still sitting across from him, her arms crossed over her chest. She stared into his eyes; her gaze bored into his. "Empty yourself, Harry. Forget emotion ever existed."
He nodded and clenched his fists again.
"Ready? Well then, legilimens!"
There was that uncomfortable feeling in his head again, as though someone was sifting through his thoughts and selecting the ones they thought would be most humiliating. Professor Snape and his worst memory. Kissing Cho Chang underneath the mistletoe. Harry summoned all of his will. "Protego!" he shouted.
Professor O'Flannery's eyes widened. Thoughts floated through Harry's head; he knew they were hers. A young black-haired girl was being raped forcefully as a group looked on. The same girl, a few years older, tied to a post and being whipped. Remus Lupin's face floated in the miasma. A young looking Aislinn O'Flannery was having the Chinese character tattooed on her finger.
Harry let go of his concentration. He stared at her, horrified. Aislinn was sinking into her chair, her arms hugging her own body as if she was trying to hold herself together. Unshed tears shone in her eyes, and she blinked as if she was trying to clear them. "Was that...you?" asked Harry, incredulous.
"Can y' see now why I'm not a Death Eater?" Her voice was hoarse and low, and the fake English accent had slipped again. "They were th' ones who did that t' me," she spat out. It was obvious she was trying not to cry.
Before he knew was he was doing, Harry had stood and was wrapping his arms around his Professor. She actually seemed as shocked as he, but she relaxed into his arms and rested her head on his shoulder. She sniffled a little, and then fell silent, barely even breathing.
"Thank ye," was all she said after a moment's repose.
"You're welcome." It took Harry a second before he added the obligatory "Professor." He released her from the hug and looked at her. She resembled a lost child rather than a teacher. He pointed to her finger. "What does it mean?" he asked.
Aislinn smiled, adopting her false accent again. "It means 'Persevere.' I chose it for obvious reasons. It's what I do."
"I'm sorry I ever doubted you," Harry said, genuinely sincere. "I figured with your family, you would be, you know, a-"
Professor O'Flannery cut him off. "It's perfectly all right, child. I can understand how anyone who's been through what you have would be suspicious." She tilted her head and gazed at him. "You're not the first that has accused me of the same. Why else do you think I quit working for the Ministry?" A small smile played on her features as she wiped the rest of the dampness from the corners of her eyes. She shook her head, and stood. "That will be all for tonight. Hopefully tomorrow's lesson will be a bit more pleasant."
Harry turned to leave, but something made him turn back around. "Professor?" he asked. Aislinn cocked an eyebrow. "If you don't mind, could I ask you things about being an Auror? It's what I've wanted to do for a good while now."
She nodded. "Please, Harry. Call me Aislinn, and of course." She nodded to him in a gesture of farewell, and Harry turned away from her, both embarrassed and elated.
Snape was sitting in an overstuffed armchair to the right of Dumbledore, watching the assembled people out of the corner of his eye. He pretended not to notice when Aislinn O'Flannery glided through the door, looking sheepish and scared. This would be her first meeting; it made complete sense. If Severus had his way, she would be barred from them permanently, but no one ever asked his opinion. O'Flannery was a threat, and he would see to it that she was disposed of. Snape popped his knuckles unconsciously, and several of the people winced. Too bad for them.
Dumbledore stood. The gathering fell silent as he raised his hands, and he smiled. "So glad to see you all tonight." Snape wanted to roll his eyes. The formality and friendliness almost sickened him sometimes. Didn't they realize they lived in dangerous times? "I would like to take this moment to introduce they newest member of the Order, Aislinn O'Flannery. You may have heard of her based on her work at the Ministry of Magic, or the reinstatement of the Tuatha de Dannan." Every eye turned back to survey the woman sheepishly standing at the back of the group. She smiled sadly. Severus was not surprised at all to see her rubbing the tattoo.
Snape noticed several of the Aurors present suddenly looked wary. In fact, upon surveying the crowd, he saw that many of those gathered looked angry, or betrayed.
Dumbledore's voice continued to rumble, but Snape allowed his mind to wander. He glanced at each face, mentally marking whoever was present. There was one glaring absence: Sirius Black was not in the room. Sirius Black would never enter the room again. Severus was sad to say he did not mind the death of Black; in fact it seemed to come as a relief. No one would oppose his role in the order anymore, nor would there always be the nagging voice in the back of the crowd accusing him for Death Eater activities. He heard a tiny voice in the back of his head telling him that was exactly what he was doing with Aislinn O'Flannery, but he ignored it. She deserves it. There's no doubt she is who she was born to be. Snape relaxed back into his chair, content with thinking his own thoughts, but the sound of Dumbledore's voice brought him out of his reverie.
"Severus?"
Snape looked up, aggravated at being caught unawares. "Yes, Headmaster?" he asked, hoping for a prompt.
"I was asking if you would mind telling the Order what happened between you and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when you were summoned." Dumbledore fixed him with a piercing gaze.
Snape smiled a thin, malicious smile. "Of course, Headmaster." He stood, facing the gathered group with severity. "I was summoned three days ago into," he winced, "Voldemort's presence. I was told one thing, and one thing only. It was to make sure nothing happened to her." He stressed the word, pointing his finger right at Aislinn O'Flannery's heart.
All heads turned to stare at her, and a rogue voice from the crowd called out, "No surprise." Other voices echoed the sentiment. Aislinn backed into a corner, a feral and threatened look on her face.
Snape continued. "He said she was a controversy among his followers, and she must not be harmed. She must be kept safe, as if she was some important flower." The accusatory tone in his voice rose; he had to fight to keep it down.
Aislinn's eyes were wide and scared. "I-It's not what you think. I'm not-I swear." She narrowed her gaze right at Severus. "I am not a Death Eater."
Tonks, another Auror, stepped forward. "You might not be, Miss O'Flannery, but your background is against you."
Dumbledore's loud voice rumbled over the crowd. "Enough! I called you here to have a meeting, not a childish argument. Aislinn is in my complete confidence; her background might be dark but she is not determined by her parentage. So let it be." He fixed everyone with a stern gaze. "Aislinn?"
She straightened from the corner, her eyes large and filled with tears. "I thank you, Albus, for your hospitality. It has been a pleasure, believe me, but I think the atmosphere of this..." she paused, considering her words. "...Gathering has become less friendly. I believe I will take my leave of you." She dipped a quick curtsy, and turned to exit.
"We will take care of you, dear," was all Dumbledore said as she slammed the door behind her.
Snape looked abashed, if that was at all possible. He had not meant to cause her such visible agitation, but it seemed to give him the lead in his own private investigation. Her vehemence had to mean something. He turned back to the Order of the Phoenix, spreading his hands. "That was all Voldemort said to me. 'Keep her safe. Let no one touch her.' I will let you all draw your own conclusions." He sat, interlocking his fingers and resting his hands on his lap. Let her cry. He would not be moved.
Lupin's eyes stared hard into his. "This is ridiculous." He was livid. "Act like the adults you are, not children." Remus faced Dumbledore, saying, "I believe I will leave, too. My friend," he stressed the word, "needs comfort." He opened the door, nodding his head in farewell. Only Snape did not nod back.
Aislinn ran from the room, sobbing. It had not been fair. She had no chance to defend herself against the accusations. Everyone except Dumbledore was already convinced. She had not known Kingsley or Tonks was in the Order. What hurt her most, though, was that Remus, her own dear Remus, had done nothing. He merely stood back and let her take the abuse, abuse she had taken all her life.
Footsteps behind her made her slow. She flattened herself into a doorway, hoping to let them pass so she could continue her crying in peace. She bit her bottom lip, trying to keep it from trembling. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, and a second later felt warm arms encircle her. She collapsed against them and buried her nose into Lupin's shoulder. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed.
"No, darling, I'm sorry. I let them hurt you. I let them think that you were someone you weren't." His voice was soft and comforting. "Come on. I left to be with you, Aislinn."
Aislinn looked at him through her tears. "Go raibh math agat," she muttered, wiping her nose against his shirt. He chuckled.
"I said I was here to comfort you, not be used a tissue."
"Sorry," she sobbed. She felt herself be lifted, and put her arms around his neck. As he carried her to her room she cried hard. Her body trembled with the force of the sobs, and a low moan of anguish escaped her throat. Remus shushed her, and she buried her head once again into his shoulder, crying quietly.
"What Severus did was wrong," Remus muttered, seemingly to himself. "That bastard, he just never gives up." Remus sighed. "Unward your door, will you?"
Aislinn snapped twice and Remus opened the door, setting his friend on her feet. Aislinn faced the window, crossing her arms underneath her breasts. "I dinnae know what I want anymore, darlin'. Do I want t' be here, or back i' th' flat?" She shrugged her shoulders and wiped the remaining tears from her face. "Ye said I owed y' a song."
"Aislinn, you're in no state to sing to me." Remus put his hands on his hips and tried to look stern.
She glared right back at him. "I can look stern too, Remus. An' yeer not going t' stop me."
Lupin threw up his hands. "Fine! Fine, sing me a song if you're so intent to do so. Don't blame me when you sound like shit, okay? I swear, sometimes you act just like a little girl."
Aislinn stuck out her bottom lip at him, imitating a pouty child. "Okay, Mr. Grumpy." She took two long strides and grabbed her acoustic guitar, and carried it out the door. She turned back to face Lupin when he didn't follow. "Are ye comin' or not?"
"I-I thought you were playing it in here?" Remus raised a quizzical eyebrow.
Aislinn grinned wickedly and shook her head. "If they're going t' bother me, I'll bother them. We're goin' outside."
Lupin sighed and followed her, moving his lips as if he was praying for patience.
The air outside was biting and cold, but Aislinn didn't even seem to notice. Remus hugged his threadbare robes tighter around him, but Aislinn's billowed behind her. All in all she made an imposing figure silhouetted against the castle. Almost six feet tall and determined, she held her guitar like a woman on a mission. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and strands blew free as a rogue gust of wind rose from the lake. Her pale skin was alabaster white in the moonlight.
Remus stared at her, entranced. She had always had some ethereal quality to her, as if she had stepped out of a fairytale. She acted recklessly sometimes, but she made up for it in sound good sense. He only wished he could love her the way she needed to be loved. He shook his head as he realized she would probably never have that comfort.
Aislinn stopped underneath a window and put the guitar-strap around her shoulders. A few strums across the strings proved the instrument was tuned. She cleared her throat and cracked her knuckles, then placed her thin fingertips on the fingerboard. To Remus' eyes she straightened visibly, becoming even more regal-looking. If that was possible, or course.
"Heaven bent to take my hand and lead me through the fire. Be the long awaited answer to a long and painful fight." Her voice was clear and beautiful, its roughness banished as she raised it in song. Lupin looked at her, entranced. He had never heard this song before; she must have written it recently. "Truth be told I've tried my best, but somewhere along the way I got caught up in all there was to offer and the cost was so much more than I could bear."
Remus noticed some of the windows had opened, and various faces were leaning out into the darkness to get a better glimpse of the person singing. Aislinn continued, oblivious of the audience.
"Though I've tried, I've fallen... I have sunk so low, I have messed up, better I should know. So don't come round here and tell me I told you so..." Her fingers wavered slightly on the strings, but it couldn't be noticed in the tune. Lupin thought he heard her sniffle a bit, although he could see no visible tears on her cheeks.
"We all begin with good intent, love was raw and young. We believed that we could change ourselves; the past could be undone. But we carry on our backs the burden time always reveals: the lonely light of morning, in the wound that would not heal. It's the bitter taste of losing everything that I have held so dear." She opened her eyes and turned them upwards to the stars. The wind whipped her hair around. "Though I've tried, I've fallen... I have sunk so low, I have messed up, better I should know. So don't come round here and tell me I told you so..."
Now Lupin could see the unshed tears shining in her eyes, but her voice held strong. It was pure hell to see her in anguish, but he realized he could do nothing for her. Music was her relaxant and her medication. She might cry, but it was just her remembering, and being caught up in the melody of the song she played. Tears seeped from the corner of her eyes as she closed them, putting all the emotion she possessed into the next verse.
"Heaven bent to take my hand, nowhere left to turn. I'm lost to those I thought were friends, to everyone I know. Oh, they turned their heads embarrassed, and pretend that they don't see, but it's one missed step you'll slip before you know it, and there doesn't seem a way to be redeemed. Though I've tried, I've fallen... I have sunk so low, I have messed up, better I should know. So don't come round here and tell me I told you so..."
The final notes of her guitar faded on the wind as Aislinn released her grip on the fingerboard and opened her eyes again. The song was over, and Remus Lupin shook his head to clear away the effects of her auditory trance upon him. It was then Aislinn seemed to notice people were watching her. She blushed, the faint traces of tears on her cheeks glittering in the light that spilled from open windows. She grinned, abashed, and gave a deep bow. Applause broke out, and O'Flannery blushed again. She ran her eyes over the crowd, noting they were mostly students who had been taken away from their studies by the odd sound of music being played on a cold winter night.
Suddenly, her gaze stopped. Several members of the Order had poked their heads out, looking confused. Only Snape, with his long fingers clutching the window sash, looked upset. He glared at her, his eyes black as coal and twice as menacing. A frown was etched on his features, and in the harsh shadows she could have sworn he looked like the devil. She nudged Lupin, and headed towards the doors. She had to escape that angry glare, demon-like and full of malice.
Harry Potter trudged his way up the stairs, weighted down with guilt. He had already accused her without even knowing who she was or where she came from. He had thought of her as an evil person, but in reality she was a young woman who had been wronged. Her life is much like mine, he thought dejectedly.
A passel of first years rushed by him, taking advantage of the brief time they had before they were required to be in their respective Houses. Harry let them pass, staring longingly at them as they turned a corner. He remembered when he was that young. He had just come to Hogwarts, completely ignorant of any wizard tradition, but he had to learn fast. It was amazing some lessons didn't take.
Time after time he had learned not to judge people by their outward looks and background. Aislinn O'Flannery was a perfect example. She was plain looking, but a light in her eyes showed she was kind. Harry wished he could have gone on that alone, rather than searching into her background and messing things up.
God, I'm a bloody idiot! Harry hit himself on the forehead, still cursing his bad judgment. That was the reason for the fight in the kitchen. It wasn't her professed duty to Voldemort that kept her quiet, but the abuse she suffered as a child at the hands of Death Eaters.
Something tugged at the back of Harry's mind. He let the thought through, pondering over it. Had her parents somehow given her up? No father or mother, no matter how cruel, could do that to a child. He had been treated badly by the Dursley's, but at least he has clothes on his back and a room to sleep in. At least he hadn't been beaten. He made a mental note to ask her about it the next time they had a heart-to-heart chat.
One thing about that night gladdened Harry's heavy soul. Professor O'Flannery had promised to answer his questions about becoming an Auror! He thought he had seen Tonks earlier that night, but once he turned back around to look, she was gone. He had shrugged his shoulders and continued on his way to dinner, where, much to his dismay, he found Aislinn missing. Dumbledore looked surprised as well; it was as if something unexpected had happened.
He spoke the password to the Fat Lady, not even really thinking about what he was doing. The Gryffindor common room was filled with the usual suspects, whom were either lounging about chatting or doing homework. Harry smiled at Hermione, who smiled back and nudged Ron. Ron had just waved when the sound of something beautiful drifted past the open window. All talking ceased.
"It's-It's music!" exclaimed a confused Dean Thomas.
Harry ran to the window, searching the dark night for a sign of where the sound emanated from. He squinted his eyes, and was able to make out two figures about a hundred yards away, standing tall in the surrounding darkness. Both were tall and thin, but one had the definite broad shoulders of a man. The other one was obscured; all Harry could make out was that it had pale skin. He pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose, and continued to squint. The unsexed figure was holding a guitar, playing a few tenuous notes.
By now a crowd had gathered at the windows, leaning their heads out in order to get a better look. All of a sudden a real melody began, and a familiar voice began singing. Harry looked at Ron and Hermione incredulously. The voice was pure and beautiful, quite unlike the harsh, drunken tones they had heard and the club that night. It was obvious their professor could carry a tune, but neither of them had ever imagined she could sing that well. Out of that plain face came the most extraordinary voice.
Harry found himself grinning. The song was sad, and the other figure's identity was unclear, but Aislinn O'Flannery's song took his mind away from his misjudging of her, and made it seem that everything between them would eventually be reconciled.
Goyle chortled. "Like taking a shot?" he asked.
Snape glowered at him. "Much like taking a shot, Mister Goyle. If you paid enough attention to your schoolwork as you do to drinking, you might actually have a decent grade in this class." Goyle promptly shut up.
"Now, begin."
Padma Patil was the next one to raise her hand. "So you mean we actually have to drink the hair?" she asked with a disgusted look on her face.
Snape smiled a thin-lipped smile. "Yes, Miss Patil. It's hard to believe you have such an aversion to drinking hair when last week I caught you with your tongue in Mister Weasely's mouth. The human mouth is far more disgusting than hair is, you understand."
Padma went bright red and yanked a single hair out of her head. Ron looked ashamed as well. Snape smiled inwardly. He was quite proud of his ability to completely cow students by just looking at them and cocking an eyebrow. It took skill, and he had perfected it to a tee.
As he walked around the classroom his thoughts wandered. He had found out a good many things about his colleague that morning, and he was now more than sure of her allegiance to Voldemort. However, there could be no formal denunciation without hard proof, and he knew just how to get that. He was distracted from his thoughts by a raised hand. "Yes, Miss Granger."
"Professor, what would happen if you accidentally used an animal hair instead of a human hair?"
Snape put his thumb to his lips as if thinking. "It would be a very serious mistake on your part if you were to do so. Polyjuice Potion is only to be used with things certified to come from a human being. Although it would change you into the outward form of an animal, the transformation will not fade within the allotted hour. Another more difficult potion must be brewed in order to counteract the animal DNA. Isn't that true, Miss Granger?"
Hermione shrugged. "I don't know, Professor."
Snape nodded once. "Now, on the count of three, I want you all the drink. To ease your frustrations about transforming, I have taken the liberty of...borrowing some of Professor Sinistra's hair." Snape strode back to his desk and took a glass off of it. "It is already in the glass." His next stop was at Harry, Ron, and Hermione's cauldron. He ladled the glass half full of the sickly-looking potion and swirled it around. The students followed in his example.
Snape took a deep breath. "One." Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. "Two." Dean Thomas swallowed deeply; Snape could see unease written over his features. "Three." Snape tossed the brownish liquid to the back of his throat like he was taking a shot of alcohol. He swallowed once and grimaced. One could never become accustomed to the taste. It was like drinking sewage. All around him students groaned, grimaced, or held their stomachs trying not to vomit. Seamus Finnegan was at the sink in the back, hanging his head over the rim.
One by one, the students began to transform into one another. Snape could feel himself shortening by a good six inches. His hair shortened, becoming close cropped and brown. His robes felt three sizes too long. Snape shook his head quickly. No matter how many times he had used Polyjuice, he could never fully get used to the sensations that came with it. He knew he was the same inside; his voice and thoughts were his own, but the completely different outward appearance always startled him.
All the students had seemed to finish their transformation as well. Many of them gazed at each other in astonished shock. "I-I'm a boy," he heard Hermione Granger say. However, Hermione now looked like Harry.
"Perfect," Snape heard himself say. It had gone over without a hitch. Normally he had someone turning into an animal, or sicking up all over themselves. One by one each head turned to face him. "As you can see, you are still yourself inwardly. Your voices are the same, as Miss Granger has just proven. A whole other potion must be brewed if you want to change your voice, but it is quite difficult and will not be attempted until your seventh year." He could see Goyle shaking his head in apparent disbelief. At least he thought it was Goyle. It looked like Crabbe; for all he knew it could be Malfoy.
"Now, if you think you can pull off a prank of some sort using these ingredients, let me warn you I have everything under lock and key. After a theft five years ago I have also taken to putting wards on my supplies, most of which are very nasty." He took a moment to reflect on one particular one that would make anyone who touched the cabinet except him break out in an uncomfortable rash all over their face. "Also, to buy them, you have to be over eighteen, thus a full wizard." He grinned smugly. "So I believe all of you are out of luck." He checked the watch on his wrist, noting the time.
"I want twelve inches on the steps used to make a Polyjuice potion, as well as the effects and drawbacks. You will all change back in about forty-five minutes. Clean your cauldrons and stay quiet until the bell rings." A rush of students to the sink made him shout his next words: "I want this classroom as clean as when you came in, or I will take fifty points from both houses!" He would really do no such thing; it was just a threat. He had no qualms about deducting so much from Gryffindor, but taking fifty points away from Slytherin, his own house, was another thing entirely.
He walked back to his desk, cursing the too-long robe. He sat down and pulled out a quill pen and a bottle of red ink. Back to grading. Most of the students had improved in their homework, but a few had actually gone downhill. Malfoy and his cronies were three of the six or seven who were a centimeter close to being kicked out of his class. Granger, as usual, was making the highest marks, followed, surprisingly, by Ron Weasely. Obviously the boy had taken his threat at the beginning of the year seriously. Potter was in the top half, although Snape would never admit it out loud. Anything that came even close to praising the boy would never come out of his mouth. Not after what happened last year with the pensieve. Snape would find it difficult to ever trust the boy again. Potter felt he was above the rules; things must be bent for him. Snape felt that one of his personal missions in life was to bring James Potter's son into the real world and deflate the child's big head.
He let his thoughts turn away from Harry Potter, who was vigorously scrubbing his cauldron, and flow to something more pressing. Aislinn O'Flannery, or O'Flannabhra, was a problem that needed to be dealt with immediately. It had come as a shock to him to find out who her parents were; he had met Alastair O'Flannery years ago the day after he had taken the Dark Mark. Alastair had been Voldemort's right hand, or close enough. Alastair had been dead a good sixteen years; he had been killed in one of the last battles before Voldemort fell. Aislinn's mother, Bean Mhi Shaughnessy-O'Flannery, was currently imprisoned in Azkaban along with Aislinn's older brother Richard. Almost every member of her family, except for a few cousins in Dublin, had been Death Eaters at one point or another. Severus remembered a close companion, Will Murphy, who had taken the Dark Mark the same night Severus did. Sean had died three years later, in a skirmish between Aurors and Death Eaters. It was only today he learned that Sean had been Aislinn's second cousin.
A bell cut through his reverie. His dark eyes scanned the classroom as students grabbed their bags and hurried out. Most had begun to change into themselves again; Weasely's telltale red hair graced Hermione's swiftly changing face. Snape chuckled evilly at the thought of sending these transforming students into O'Flannery's Defense class. He hoped she would be confused, even better if she was angry. He had been hoping for a confrontation for a few weeks now. He wanted to get her flustered, he wanted to see if she would admit anything if her anger made her lose control. He had found himself surreptitiously studying her at meals, watching her face for any expression. If only he could somehow see her arm...
He looked up to see timid first year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws taking their seats. Fear was in their eyes. He wanted to cackle. Today, everything seemed to be going all right.
A large smile spread across Aislinn's face as she read the letter one last time. Yankee Doodle had done his job well, although the letter he brought back with him was poorly timed. So he's coming back from Spain sooner than I thought. He should be arriving a bit before dinner, then. Aislinn wanted to dance. Finally, someone to talk to, she thought as her grin widened, if that was at all possible. She put the letter on top of a pile of papers and put them all underneath her arm. A bit of grading would pass the time before her friend got here, if she could keep her mind on the task at hand.
She sashayed down the hallway, quietly humming a tune to a song she had been working on. She fairly jumped up the stairs, gripping the sheaf of papers under her arm tightly. It would not help to lose them all on the stairs. When she reached her door, she snapped her fingers, removing wards, and executed a neat turn before turning the handle. A blast of freezing air hit her in the face. The window was wide open; Yankee Doodle was perched on the back of her chair, watching her with his huge golden eyes. Aislinn waved to him, and he clacked his beak in return. She laid the papers on her desk and searched around for a red pen. She cursed silently when she failed to find one. I must have left it back in the classroom, she thought, not wanting to climb down the stairs again. She didn't think using a Summoning spell would work either; she would end up with half the pens in the school piling up in front of her door. She grinned. That might be fun to try sometime.
She closed the door behind her, not bothering to reset wards. She was only going to be gone for a few minutes; not enough time for anyone to pull a prank. Yankee was fiercely protective; he would probably dive at anyone that came in the room except her. Her feet slapped the stones as she ran down the hallway and took the stairs two at a time. She arrived in front of her classroom, fairly breathless, and leaned against the door a minute before removing its wards and stepping inside. Nothing was out of order, and her red pen was on her desk, where she had left it. Aislinn smiled to herself; her inner child was always forgetting things. She continued humming her song as she returned to her room, both pen and ink in her hand. She stopped short when she saw her door open. The song was driven from her mind as she flattened herself against a wall, wand ready in her other hand to blast whoever it was into last week. She steeled herself for an attack as she inched along. I can do this. Student or not, I'll just stun them... She jumped in front of the door, wand ready to curse. Suddenly, her wand arm dropped to her side. "So."
"So," came the reply. The man sat at the desk, his worn robes hanging open exposing black trousers and a collared shirt. He looked young, but his light brown hair was streaked with gray. He smirked at her. "Dumbledore pointed me the right way, and I figured I could just come in."
Aislinn frowned at Yankee Doodle, who was preening his feathers. "Good for nothing bird," she muttered. She turned her gaze back to the man in her chair. A smile lit up his face and she smiled back. "You always assume, Remus. What if I had a ward of some sort planted?" He rose. "I knew you wouldn't." He was about six feet tall; Aislinn could look him right in the eye. "I know you well, Ashy, in case you've forgotten."
Aislinn grimaced. "If you call me 'Ashy' again, Moony, I fear I will have to curse you, and badly." She grinned, and embraced him tightly. "I missed you," she murmured into his ear.
"Every day without speaking to you was torture," whispered Remus, and kissed her cheek. Aislinn burst out in laughter, her whole body shaking against that of her friend's.
"Liar," she muttered with a smile on her face. "You know as good as I do that every moment you spent away from me was a breath of fresh air. No doubt you were going out on dates every night with those sexy Spaniards."
Remus Lupin shook his head. "Hardly. You see, I was there on business. I spent most of my time not around beautiful people, but around wizard bureaucrats from the Ministry. I wish I had your skill for languages."
Aislinn shrugged and said, "You know, it's never too late to learn." She released Remus and turned to the bed. "I'd offer you a place to sit, but the bed seems to be taken over, as does the chair." She intimated the lump in the middle of the bed sheets, and Lupin smiled. Yankee Doodle, who was perched on the back of her chair, screeched as if to draw attention back to him. Aislinn waved him quiet with a dismissive gesture as she snuck up to the bed, padding on silent feet. She raised her arms high over her head, and with a sudden shriek she brought them down on either side of the mysterious blob in the bed.
The lump shot up the bed, towards the headboard, and out from underneath the comforter. Aislinn stepped back, arms akimbo, and Remus smiled. "You still have that good-for-nothing cat, I see," he said. The cat in question stood on Aislinn's pillow, fur standing on end.
"It's me, Bo," Aislinn said and sat down on the edge of her bed. She was joined by Lupin, and the cat curled up in her lap. "What's the word from the Spanish Ministry?"
Lupin shook his head. "No good news. Minister Ortega seems to think Voldemort's return is some kind of elaborate fabrication planned by Death Eaters. He's refused aid until we have 'concrete proof.' That's the way he put it. As if we're fucking overreacting."
Aislinn reached out and touched his face. "Calm down, dear. He's not going to change his decision just because you fret about it."
"God, Aislinn, will you please drop that hideous fake accent," Lupin grimaced.
"Fine. If y' wanted me t' drop it, y' could've jest asked," Aislinn responded, waving her hand in a halfhearted gesture of agitation. Lupin shrugged, and reached out to stroke the cat still in his friend's lap.
"How did he ever survive?" Lupin asked, underneath his breath.
Aislinn looked at him for a moment; a considering gaze. "Because 'e didn't give up, Remus. We never give up."
Remus Lupin raised his eyes and gazed right into Aislinn's. "Keep drawing breath, I guess." He sighed, remarking, "I just don't know how you were able to do it. Sometimes I can barely live with my own actions, let alone those of my family." He gave her a lopsided grin. "By the way, Albus wants to talk to you about something. After that, you have to sing me a song, or else."
"Then yeer comin' wit' me, old man. If I have t' play y' a song, y' can at least keep me company while th' 'eadmaster is asking whatever 'e's asking."
Remus shrugged, and got to his feet. Aislinn pushed the cat off her lap, and took her friend's proffered hand. She muttered a thank you, and held the door open for Remus, sealing wards behind him with a waving of her fingers and two swift snaps. She began singing a song underneath her breath as she walked the corridors, Lupin close behind her.
"Do ye miss Sirius Black?" she asked suddenly, and Remus stumbled.
"Aislinn, that's a stupid question if I ever heard one. He was one of my best friends, Aislinn. If you were to lose, say, Fionnuala, wouldn't you feel a giant hole in your heart?" Remus shook his head. "I can't believe you even asked that question."
"Don't y' be thinkin' me stupid, Remus. I've lost more than ye've ever imagined."
"I forget Aislinn. It's hard to remember all the shit you've been through, believe me." Remus gave her a grin, and slid his arm around her shoulders as they passed into Dumbledore's chambers.
Albus Dumbledore was sitting in an overstuffed chair, gazing over his spectacles at Aislinn and Remus as they entered. His face lit up in a smile. "Both of you, please, sit. It's so wonderful to have you back, Remus, if only for a short time. Aislinn, dear, I have something to ask of you. As you have stated to me previously, in your work as an Auror you were trained in the skill of Occlumency. One of our students needs that skill, and badly. I believe you might know him?"
Aislinn fixed Albus with a penetrating gaze. Her false accent slipped into place as she addressed her superior. "Just who is this student, if I may inquire, Headmaster?"
Albus smiled. "He's a sixth year Defense student. His name is Harry Potter." He winked at Remus, who shook his head slightly.
"Harry Potter?" asked Aislinn, confused. "I can understand why, but why choose me?"
Dumbledore sighed. "He was originally being taught by Severus, but their relationship is not what I would call friendly. There was a breach in trust and Severus vowed to never teach young Mr. Potter again. That is why I am asking you, Miss O'Flannery. If I had anyone else, I would go you them first. I know you have many unsavory memories you don't want to relive, but this boy needs the protection Occlumency can give him."
Professor O'Flannery sighed. "He does have detention tonight with me, as he does for the rest of the week. It would be a good of time as any to start the lessons." Remus Lupin squeezed her hand, and Aislinn glanced at him quickly, flashing a smile.
"If I may inquire, Remus, will you be staying for dinner?" Albus asked.
Lupin nodded. "I believe I will be, Headmaster. And I need to inquire of you as well. Will the Order be meeting tonight?" When Albus nodded, Lupin continued. "Here, or in London?"
Albus gestured with a finger. "Here, my good sir. I have no desire to go to London tonight; it's supposed to rain, and Heaven knows what the damp does to my joints." Dumbledore beamed at both of them. "Thank you both very much, especially you, Aislinn. I hope it's no inconvenience."
Aislinn flashed a smile, but inside her mind rebelled. She slipped her arm around Lupin, and steeled herself for her lesson later that night.
Harry waited outside the door to Professor O'Flannery's classroom, preparing himself for the obvious long night ahead of him. He gave himself a shake, and knocked on the door. It opened automatically, and Harry stepped inside. Aislinn was silhouetted against a window, her arms crossed over her chest. Her school robes had been discarded, tossed over a chair as though it was refuse. She rubbed her arms as though she was cold, although Harry found it stifling in the room. "Professor?" he asked timidly.
She turned, fixing Harry with a cold stare. "I see you decided to come after all." Her voice was cold. "You're late. I should dock points for that, but I'm not in mood. Instead, you will just have to work extra hard tonight, won't you?" Her tone of voice left no room for discussion. Harry nodded, and she continued swiftly. "I have been asked to teach you something which, if I am not wrong, you had begun last year. Professor Snape has sworn to never teach you in it again, so the torch has been passed to me." She intimated a seat. "Sit," she ordered.
Harry followed her finger, and noticed a large bowl-like thing sitting on the middle of the desk. His heart seemed to skip a beat. It was the pensieve. That meant only one thing: Occlumency. "A-are we going to...use that?" Harry asked, confused.
Aislinn turned from the window. "No. You will not be using that." She waited a moment. "I told you to sit, boyo."
Harry hurried to a seat, and Aislinn strode to the other one directly across from him. "Headmaster Dumbledore has asked me to continue your lessons in Occlumency, and since I seem to be the only witch in this bloody school that has the talent, I fear I must do it." She must have noticed the grimace on Harry's face, for she added, "Believe me, I don't want to do it either. Since you're convinced I'm a Death Eater, we might be a bit biased in this examination. But my mind wanders. Let us return to the topic at hand."
Harry waited. If this were to be anything like last year, Aislinn would pull out her worst thoughts to put into the pensieve, while Harry was stuck with all the unpleasant ones free for the taking. He sighed. "I guess it has to be done, Professor."
O'Flannery screwed up her face. "Indeed, it must be done. Now, Dumbledore let me borrow his pensieve for storing my unpleasant thoughts, but I don't believe it's fair for me to get rid of mine and you have to keep yours. Thus, I shall not be using it either." She pushed it out of the way. Harry stared at her incredulously. She smiled a thin-lipped smile, pulling her hair back in a deft movement. "Now you know how the process works. I'd give you an outline of what I will be doing to your head, but it will be no different than what Professor Snape tried." She paused as if considering something. "Except for the asinine and condescending comments, of course."
Against his will, he found himself smiling. As much as he hated to admit it, she was a very good instructor and a fairly easy-going person, despite her obvious attachment to the Death Eaters.
Aislinn cleared her throat. "I expect to find harsh memories. You should not be afraid, as I have many as well. As for the Death Eater incident, I trust you shall find out soon enough." Professor O'Flannery took a deep breath. "Now, get ready."
Harry tensed his fists. I don't want to know. I don't want to know...
"One."
He took a deep breath. I don't want her inside my head. I don't want her to know I feel akin to her...
"Two."
I don't know what to say. I should stop this now...I don't need it...I-
"Three. Legilimens!"
The force of Aislinn's intrusion into his thoughts flung him against the back of his chair. The nasty memory of Dudley forcing him into the toilet resurfaced, as did the memories of the constant beatings he had suffered at his brutal cousin's hands. He struggled to push his Professor out of his head, casting the Patronus charm indirectly. Suddenly, the presence in his head was gone.
She was still sitting across from him, her arms crossed over her chest. She stared into his eyes; her gaze bored into his. "Empty yourself, Harry. Forget emotion ever existed."
He nodded and clenched his fists again.
"Ready? Well then, legilimens!"
There was that uncomfortable feeling in his head again, as though someone was sifting through his thoughts and selecting the ones they thought would be most humiliating. Professor Snape and his worst memory. Kissing Cho Chang underneath the mistletoe. Harry summoned all of his will. "Protego!" he shouted.
Professor O'Flannery's eyes widened. Thoughts floated through Harry's head; he knew they were hers. A young black-haired girl was being raped forcefully as a group looked on. The same girl, a few years older, tied to a post and being whipped. Remus Lupin's face floated in the miasma. A young looking Aislinn O'Flannery was having the Chinese character tattooed on her finger.
Harry let go of his concentration. He stared at her, horrified. Aislinn was sinking into her chair, her arms hugging her own body as if she was trying to hold herself together. Unshed tears shone in her eyes, and she blinked as if she was trying to clear them. "Was that...you?" asked Harry, incredulous.
"Can y' see now why I'm not a Death Eater?" Her voice was hoarse and low, and the fake English accent had slipped again. "They were th' ones who did that t' me," she spat out. It was obvious she was trying not to cry.
Before he knew was he was doing, Harry had stood and was wrapping his arms around his Professor. She actually seemed as shocked as he, but she relaxed into his arms and rested her head on his shoulder. She sniffled a little, and then fell silent, barely even breathing.
"Thank ye," was all she said after a moment's repose.
"You're welcome." It took Harry a second before he added the obligatory "Professor." He released her from the hug and looked at her. She resembled a lost child rather than a teacher. He pointed to her finger. "What does it mean?" he asked.
Aislinn smiled, adopting her false accent again. "It means 'Persevere.' I chose it for obvious reasons. It's what I do."
"I'm sorry I ever doubted you," Harry said, genuinely sincere. "I figured with your family, you would be, you know, a-"
Professor O'Flannery cut him off. "It's perfectly all right, child. I can understand how anyone who's been through what you have would be suspicious." She tilted her head and gazed at him. "You're not the first that has accused me of the same. Why else do you think I quit working for the Ministry?" A small smile played on her features as she wiped the rest of the dampness from the corners of her eyes. She shook her head, and stood. "That will be all for tonight. Hopefully tomorrow's lesson will be a bit more pleasant."
Harry turned to leave, but something made him turn back around. "Professor?" he asked. Aislinn cocked an eyebrow. "If you don't mind, could I ask you things about being an Auror? It's what I've wanted to do for a good while now."
She nodded. "Please, Harry. Call me Aislinn, and of course." She nodded to him in a gesture of farewell, and Harry turned away from her, both embarrassed and elated.
Snape was sitting in an overstuffed armchair to the right of Dumbledore, watching the assembled people out of the corner of his eye. He pretended not to notice when Aislinn O'Flannery glided through the door, looking sheepish and scared. This would be her first meeting; it made complete sense. If Severus had his way, she would be barred from them permanently, but no one ever asked his opinion. O'Flannery was a threat, and he would see to it that she was disposed of. Snape popped his knuckles unconsciously, and several of the people winced. Too bad for them.
Dumbledore stood. The gathering fell silent as he raised his hands, and he smiled. "So glad to see you all tonight." Snape wanted to roll his eyes. The formality and friendliness almost sickened him sometimes. Didn't they realize they lived in dangerous times? "I would like to take this moment to introduce they newest member of the Order, Aislinn O'Flannery. You may have heard of her based on her work at the Ministry of Magic, or the reinstatement of the Tuatha de Dannan." Every eye turned back to survey the woman sheepishly standing at the back of the group. She smiled sadly. Severus was not surprised at all to see her rubbing the tattoo.
Snape noticed several of the Aurors present suddenly looked wary. In fact, upon surveying the crowd, he saw that many of those gathered looked angry, or betrayed.
Dumbledore's voice continued to rumble, but Snape allowed his mind to wander. He glanced at each face, mentally marking whoever was present. There was one glaring absence: Sirius Black was not in the room. Sirius Black would never enter the room again. Severus was sad to say he did not mind the death of Black; in fact it seemed to come as a relief. No one would oppose his role in the order anymore, nor would there always be the nagging voice in the back of the crowd accusing him for Death Eater activities. He heard a tiny voice in the back of his head telling him that was exactly what he was doing with Aislinn O'Flannery, but he ignored it. She deserves it. There's no doubt she is who she was born to be. Snape relaxed back into his chair, content with thinking his own thoughts, but the sound of Dumbledore's voice brought him out of his reverie.
"Severus?"
Snape looked up, aggravated at being caught unawares. "Yes, Headmaster?" he asked, hoping for a prompt.
"I was asking if you would mind telling the Order what happened between you and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when you were summoned." Dumbledore fixed him with a piercing gaze.
Snape smiled a thin, malicious smile. "Of course, Headmaster." He stood, facing the gathered group with severity. "I was summoned three days ago into," he winced, "Voldemort's presence. I was told one thing, and one thing only. It was to make sure nothing happened to her." He stressed the word, pointing his finger right at Aislinn O'Flannery's heart.
All heads turned to stare at her, and a rogue voice from the crowd called out, "No surprise." Other voices echoed the sentiment. Aislinn backed into a corner, a feral and threatened look on her face.
Snape continued. "He said she was a controversy among his followers, and she must not be harmed. She must be kept safe, as if she was some important flower." The accusatory tone in his voice rose; he had to fight to keep it down.
Aislinn's eyes were wide and scared. "I-It's not what you think. I'm not-I swear." She narrowed her gaze right at Severus. "I am not a Death Eater."
Tonks, another Auror, stepped forward. "You might not be, Miss O'Flannery, but your background is against you."
Dumbledore's loud voice rumbled over the crowd. "Enough! I called you here to have a meeting, not a childish argument. Aislinn is in my complete confidence; her background might be dark but she is not determined by her parentage. So let it be." He fixed everyone with a stern gaze. "Aislinn?"
She straightened from the corner, her eyes large and filled with tears. "I thank you, Albus, for your hospitality. It has been a pleasure, believe me, but I think the atmosphere of this..." she paused, considering her words. "...Gathering has become less friendly. I believe I will take my leave of you." She dipped a quick curtsy, and turned to exit.
"We will take care of you, dear," was all Dumbledore said as she slammed the door behind her.
Snape looked abashed, if that was at all possible. He had not meant to cause her such visible agitation, but it seemed to give him the lead in his own private investigation. Her vehemence had to mean something. He turned back to the Order of the Phoenix, spreading his hands. "That was all Voldemort said to me. 'Keep her safe. Let no one touch her.' I will let you all draw your own conclusions." He sat, interlocking his fingers and resting his hands on his lap. Let her cry. He would not be moved.
Lupin's eyes stared hard into his. "This is ridiculous." He was livid. "Act like the adults you are, not children." Remus faced Dumbledore, saying, "I believe I will leave, too. My friend," he stressed the word, "needs comfort." He opened the door, nodding his head in farewell. Only Snape did not nod back.
Aislinn ran from the room, sobbing. It had not been fair. She had no chance to defend herself against the accusations. Everyone except Dumbledore was already convinced. She had not known Kingsley or Tonks was in the Order. What hurt her most, though, was that Remus, her own dear Remus, had done nothing. He merely stood back and let her take the abuse, abuse she had taken all her life.
Footsteps behind her made her slow. She flattened herself into a doorway, hoping to let them pass so she could continue her crying in peace. She bit her bottom lip, trying to keep it from trembling. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, and a second later felt warm arms encircle her. She collapsed against them and buried her nose into Lupin's shoulder. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed.
"No, darling, I'm sorry. I let them hurt you. I let them think that you were someone you weren't." His voice was soft and comforting. "Come on. I left to be with you, Aislinn."
Aislinn looked at him through her tears. "Go raibh math agat," she muttered, wiping her nose against his shirt. He chuckled.
"I said I was here to comfort you, not be used a tissue."
"Sorry," she sobbed. She felt herself be lifted, and put her arms around his neck. As he carried her to her room she cried hard. Her body trembled with the force of the sobs, and a low moan of anguish escaped her throat. Remus shushed her, and she buried her head once again into his shoulder, crying quietly.
"What Severus did was wrong," Remus muttered, seemingly to himself. "That bastard, he just never gives up." Remus sighed. "Unward your door, will you?"
Aislinn snapped twice and Remus opened the door, setting his friend on her feet. Aislinn faced the window, crossing her arms underneath her breasts. "I dinnae know what I want anymore, darlin'. Do I want t' be here, or back i' th' flat?" She shrugged her shoulders and wiped the remaining tears from her face. "Ye said I owed y' a song."
"Aislinn, you're in no state to sing to me." Remus put his hands on his hips and tried to look stern.
She glared right back at him. "I can look stern too, Remus. An' yeer not going t' stop me."
Lupin threw up his hands. "Fine! Fine, sing me a song if you're so intent to do so. Don't blame me when you sound like shit, okay? I swear, sometimes you act just like a little girl."
Aislinn stuck out her bottom lip at him, imitating a pouty child. "Okay, Mr. Grumpy." She took two long strides and grabbed her acoustic guitar, and carried it out the door. She turned back to face Lupin when he didn't follow. "Are ye comin' or not?"
"I-I thought you were playing it in here?" Remus raised a quizzical eyebrow.
Aislinn grinned wickedly and shook her head. "If they're going t' bother me, I'll bother them. We're goin' outside."
Lupin sighed and followed her, moving his lips as if he was praying for patience.
The air outside was biting and cold, but Aislinn didn't even seem to notice. Remus hugged his threadbare robes tighter around him, but Aislinn's billowed behind her. All in all she made an imposing figure silhouetted against the castle. Almost six feet tall and determined, she held her guitar like a woman on a mission. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and strands blew free as a rogue gust of wind rose from the lake. Her pale skin was alabaster white in the moonlight.
Remus stared at her, entranced. She had always had some ethereal quality to her, as if she had stepped out of a fairytale. She acted recklessly sometimes, but she made up for it in sound good sense. He only wished he could love her the way she needed to be loved. He shook his head as he realized she would probably never have that comfort.
Aislinn stopped underneath a window and put the guitar-strap around her shoulders. A few strums across the strings proved the instrument was tuned. She cleared her throat and cracked her knuckles, then placed her thin fingertips on the fingerboard. To Remus' eyes she straightened visibly, becoming even more regal-looking. If that was possible, or course.
"Heaven bent to take my hand and lead me through the fire. Be the long awaited answer to a long and painful fight." Her voice was clear and beautiful, its roughness banished as she raised it in song. Lupin looked at her, entranced. He had never heard this song before; she must have written it recently. "Truth be told I've tried my best, but somewhere along the way I got caught up in all there was to offer and the cost was so much more than I could bear."
Remus noticed some of the windows had opened, and various faces were leaning out into the darkness to get a better glimpse of the person singing. Aislinn continued, oblivious of the audience.
"Though I've tried, I've fallen... I have sunk so low, I have messed up, better I should know. So don't come round here and tell me I told you so..." Her fingers wavered slightly on the strings, but it couldn't be noticed in the tune. Lupin thought he heard her sniffle a bit, although he could see no visible tears on her cheeks.
"We all begin with good intent, love was raw and young. We believed that we could change ourselves; the past could be undone. But we carry on our backs the burden time always reveals: the lonely light of morning, in the wound that would not heal. It's the bitter taste of losing everything that I have held so dear." She opened her eyes and turned them upwards to the stars. The wind whipped her hair around. "Though I've tried, I've fallen... I have sunk so low, I have messed up, better I should know. So don't come round here and tell me I told you so..."
Now Lupin could see the unshed tears shining in her eyes, but her voice held strong. It was pure hell to see her in anguish, but he realized he could do nothing for her. Music was her relaxant and her medication. She might cry, but it was just her remembering, and being caught up in the melody of the song she played. Tears seeped from the corner of her eyes as she closed them, putting all the emotion she possessed into the next verse.
"Heaven bent to take my hand, nowhere left to turn. I'm lost to those I thought were friends, to everyone I know. Oh, they turned their heads embarrassed, and pretend that they don't see, but it's one missed step you'll slip before you know it, and there doesn't seem a way to be redeemed. Though I've tried, I've fallen... I have sunk so low, I have messed up, better I should know. So don't come round here and tell me I told you so..."
The final notes of her guitar faded on the wind as Aislinn released her grip on the fingerboard and opened her eyes again. The song was over, and Remus Lupin shook his head to clear away the effects of her auditory trance upon him. It was then Aislinn seemed to notice people were watching her. She blushed, the faint traces of tears on her cheeks glittering in the light that spilled from open windows. She grinned, abashed, and gave a deep bow. Applause broke out, and O'Flannery blushed again. She ran her eyes over the crowd, noting they were mostly students who had been taken away from their studies by the odd sound of music being played on a cold winter night.
Suddenly, her gaze stopped. Several members of the Order had poked their heads out, looking confused. Only Snape, with his long fingers clutching the window sash, looked upset. He glared at her, his eyes black as coal and twice as menacing. A frown was etched on his features, and in the harsh shadows she could have sworn he looked like the devil. She nudged Lupin, and headed towards the doors. She had to escape that angry glare, demon-like and full of malice.
Harry Potter trudged his way up the stairs, weighted down with guilt. He had already accused her without even knowing who she was or where she came from. He had thought of her as an evil person, but in reality she was a young woman who had been wronged. Her life is much like mine, he thought dejectedly.
A passel of first years rushed by him, taking advantage of the brief time they had before they were required to be in their respective Houses. Harry let them pass, staring longingly at them as they turned a corner. He remembered when he was that young. He had just come to Hogwarts, completely ignorant of any wizard tradition, but he had to learn fast. It was amazing some lessons didn't take.
Time after time he had learned not to judge people by their outward looks and background. Aislinn O'Flannery was a perfect example. She was plain looking, but a light in her eyes showed she was kind. Harry wished he could have gone on that alone, rather than searching into her background and messing things up.
God, I'm a bloody idiot! Harry hit himself on the forehead, still cursing his bad judgment. That was the reason for the fight in the kitchen. It wasn't her professed duty to Voldemort that kept her quiet, but the abuse she suffered as a child at the hands of Death Eaters.
Something tugged at the back of Harry's mind. He let the thought through, pondering over it. Had her parents somehow given her up? No father or mother, no matter how cruel, could do that to a child. He had been treated badly by the Dursley's, but at least he has clothes on his back and a room to sleep in. At least he hadn't been beaten. He made a mental note to ask her about it the next time they had a heart-to-heart chat.
One thing about that night gladdened Harry's heavy soul. Professor O'Flannery had promised to answer his questions about becoming an Auror! He thought he had seen Tonks earlier that night, but once he turned back around to look, she was gone. He had shrugged his shoulders and continued on his way to dinner, where, much to his dismay, he found Aislinn missing. Dumbledore looked surprised as well; it was as if something unexpected had happened.
He spoke the password to the Fat Lady, not even really thinking about what he was doing. The Gryffindor common room was filled with the usual suspects, whom were either lounging about chatting or doing homework. Harry smiled at Hermione, who smiled back and nudged Ron. Ron had just waved when the sound of something beautiful drifted past the open window. All talking ceased.
"It's-It's music!" exclaimed a confused Dean Thomas.
Harry ran to the window, searching the dark night for a sign of where the sound emanated from. He squinted his eyes, and was able to make out two figures about a hundred yards away, standing tall in the surrounding darkness. Both were tall and thin, but one had the definite broad shoulders of a man. The other one was obscured; all Harry could make out was that it had pale skin. He pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose, and continued to squint. The unsexed figure was holding a guitar, playing a few tenuous notes.
By now a crowd had gathered at the windows, leaning their heads out in order to get a better look. All of a sudden a real melody began, and a familiar voice began singing. Harry looked at Ron and Hermione incredulously. The voice was pure and beautiful, quite unlike the harsh, drunken tones they had heard and the club that night. It was obvious their professor could carry a tune, but neither of them had ever imagined she could sing that well. Out of that plain face came the most extraordinary voice.
Harry found himself grinning. The song was sad, and the other figure's identity was unclear, but Aislinn O'Flannery's song took his mind away from his misjudging of her, and made it seem that everything between them would eventually be reconciled.