Westminster, June 1981
0o0o0o
Staffroom melodrama had quickly become a defining feature of Neasa's employment at Hogwarts.
From the Educational Decrees banning Professors from talking to students about matters outside of the curriculum, to the attempted sacking of Professor Trelawney and Dumbledore's replacing of her with Bane the centaur – Hogwarts was the most dramatic place Neasa had ever worked at. Or perhaps it was an especially dramatic year, she reasoned.
Either way, January, February, and March each passed quicker than the last. What might have been good news for some in the mass breakout from Azkaban, for Róisín Rí it meant a panicked emergency meeting of the Irish Aurors in Dublin. What was viewed by many as a fantastic interview with Harry in the Quibbler about Voldemort's return, Umbridge was so angry that she passed another Decree banning its sale.
Valentine's Day, for the student body, meant just another day trip to Hogsmeade – for Neasa it meant a date on the top of a mountain overlooking the castle with Severus.
It was certainly a date she would never forget: they took off on his broomstick from the courtyard and flew around the castle once, letting them take in the building's stunning beauty, before flying through the wooden supports of the bridge and over the Great Lake towards the mountains.
It reminded Neasa of being the passenger on a motorbike, with the wind threatening to blow away her scarf and hat, her cloak flying out behind her. Severus flew them close to the surface of the lake and Neasa dipped the toe of her boot in the water, whipping it up into a spray.
Then he turned north and flew up the side of a mountain, and when they were level with the top he turned the broom around so they could see Hogwarts and Hogsmeade in the distance.
After that he landed them on the flat top of the mountain, which expanded for several yards in each direction. They sat on top of a collection of boulders near the sloping edge.
"I've never seen such a view," Neasa said, for she truly hadn't.
She leaned the back of her head against Severus, who put his arm around her in return. Even though they were on the edge of a mountain, hundreds of feet in the air, she felt perfectly safe – like they were untouchable, separated from the rest of the world.
"I found this view in my seventh year just before I graduated," said Severus.
"How did you even get up here? Were you running away?"
"No!" he laughed. "Although, I considered it often enough – I was just exploring. I've always been good with a Disillusionment Charm – on a school visit to Hogsmeade I just slipped away for a few hours and found this spot."
"It's stunning," Neasa said.
A moment later she felt Severus rest his head against hers, and a moment after that he said softly, "I love you."
"I love you so much, Severus," she replied with a smile.
Severus wouldn't admit it to anyone but himself, but he sometimes preferred Neasa's room to his own.
Her room felt so homely, with its plush carpet floor and wooden walls, a fire burning slowly in the hearth, the soft ticking of a Muggle clock on the wall. On her nightstand she kept a vase of daisies, and her bed was covered in a snug red blanket. Here and there some clothes lay astray, a small pile of shoes and winter boots was at the foot of her bed, and her bookshelf was a messy mix of Muggle novels and magical literature.
It contrasted sharply to Severus's clinically tidy bedroom: stone floor with a dark green rug, a fireplace not often used, books in alphabetical order.
And this he would really be loath to admit: he loved being cuddled.
The first time Neasa had surprised him by hugging him from behind had been in his kitchen, while he'd been making coffee – the morning after their first night together. She'd already established herself as someone who liked cuddling a lot – and, being the early days of their relationship, Severus hadn't complained that it felt ticklish.
He'd cleared his throat and asked, "Milk, one sugar?"
"Two won't hurt." She'd pressed a kiss to the back of his shirt, let her hands linger for a second on his waist, and then had left.
Severus was usually the first to lay down boundaries in a relationship – but he knew somehow that certain women wouldn't listen – Neasa included. So he didn't bother saying anything.
The next time he'd allowed himself to be cuddled had been not long after, following a tiring and difficult day at work – another incident in the Potions classroom which had taken a whole period to fix. Severus had collapsed into bed that night, not noticing he was lying on Neasa's side.
She'd extinguished the candles and climbed in behind him, and he'd turned over automatically, expecting to be the big spoon – but she'd put her hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
"Allow me," she'd said, and then wrapped both arms tightly around him, pulling him closer to her.
He'd tensed up at first, but slowly relaxed at the feeling of her hand running up and down his arm, at the kiss she'd left on his shoulder. Being the little spoon felt so different from being the big one – it felt safe and secure, even though he was showing the back of his neck to someone else – and he'd wondered, as he'd drifted off, if that was how he made Neasa feel too.
Now, many months into their relationship, the habit of cuddling before bed had somewhat worn off – as it does for any couple. So it only made it a little more special when, her back against the headboard of her bed, Neasa had invited Severus to sit by her side, letting him rest his head on her chest. It wasn't even dark outside – it was a peaceful Sunday evening, just before dinner.
His arm hugged her waist and hers was wrapped around his shoulders – he could hear her heartbeat through her clothes. She'd been talking for a while now – about Derry and her old life there, about Bess and Siobhan, about her parents and school life.
Severus knew – even if Neasa didn't often speak of it – that mixed in with her innocent memories of childhood were the painful ones of fighting on the streets, unrest in the village, Catholic houses being burnt to the ground. Neither of them had had an easy upbringing – but she had, at least, had a loving family around her – Severus hadn't ever really known what that felt like.
For most of his life he'd resented others for having loving families, and even when Neasa had described the gunfire on the streets he still felt he would readily trade with her. But now Neasa wasn't talking about the conflict; she was talking avidly about Bess, her recent wedding, her and her husband's new house.
"I actually have photos if you want to see them – Accio photo album," Neasa said, and a thick photo album flew off her bookshelf and she caught it in her hand. Severus noticed a small photograph had fallen out and fluttered under the bed, but Neasa said, "Leave it – I'll get it later."
She opened the album on her lap and showed him a handful of moving photographs from Bess's wedding, and she worked her way backwards through the album until she reached black-and-white still pictures of her and her family in Derry.
The three sisters with ice creams in the park – the whole family on a picnic – the extended family at Christmas – Neasa's choir practise with Siobhan in church – "Bess hated it," she commented with a smile, "she wasn't a big believer. She always asked how God can exist if bad stuff still happens."
Severus could still hear her heartbeat, and it had just sped up a little.
"Bess wasn't happy in Derry – the other kids in the neighbourhood really got to her," she said. "It was always about religion – we were Catholic, they were Protestant. We were seen as second-class citizens – we even had separate schools from them – and as for Bess, all of the hate really got to her – but… it never affected me, not really.
"Bess became so cynical when we moved to Bríd – like she expected the bullying to carry on – and I could never understand it. Why couldn't she just… let it go?"
"Neasa, being bullied changes people," Severus said as gently as he could. "Some of us become cynical because we can't imagine the situation changing – we begin to lose faith in people – that's what… that's what I did, anyway."
"The same happened to Bess – I hardly recognised her," said Neasa.
A second later she put her hand gently on the top of Severus's head, twirling his hair around her fingers, and in that moment he launched into a long and rambling retelling of his encounters with the Marauders. He told her about the first time he met them, on the Hogwarts Express – how they had instantly taken a dislike to him and he to them – how that had escalated into the scene under the beech tree after their Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL. How they regularly jinxed and hexed each other, how they taunted him for admiring the Dark Arts, how that had driven him to join the Dark Lord's ranks.
He'd never been so frank and honest with Neasa about what he'd been through – she listened carefully and sympathetically as he explained not only his own experience, but why Bess had been changed by it too. He carefully avoided making it into a sob story – he couldn't stand it if she pitied him – and he avoided naming names too. Neasa didn't know any of the Marauders anyway – it didn't matter whether she knew their names or not.
In that moment a loud knock came from Neasa's living room door, and she sighed, "Sorry – I should get that."
She let go of him and made to shuffle to the edge of the bed, but she hesitated for a second and then turned back.
"Thank you for being so honest with me," she said.
"Thanks for listening to all that," Severus replied.
"Don't be silly," Neasa smiled, "of course I listened."
She leaned over him to kiss his forehead, gave him another soft smile and then left to answer the door.
Severus remained where he was for a moment, thinking over what he'd told Neasa and how, this time last year, telling anyone that would've felt like he was being weak – but he didn't mind being vulnerable in front of Neasa anymore. He trusted her.
With that in mind he picked up her photo album and stood up to return it to the shelf – then he remembered that small photo that had fallen under the bed earlier. He knelt down and found it just behind one of the wooden feet.
As he straightened he examined it to guess where it might go in the album – it was a tattered, old black-and-white one – but the two people in the photo were moving. It took Severus a minute to recognise Neasa as one of the couple – her hair was shorter and she looked no younger than twenty. She was standing next to a taller man whose arm was slung lazily over her shoulders – he had a handsome smile, thick moustache and shoulder-length dark hair…
Severus felt his legs give out and he found himself sitting heavily on the bed, clutching the small photo in his hand and staring disbelievingly into the twenty-one-year-old eyes of Sirius Black.
Sirius's face was young and happy, not hardened by Azkaban like it was now – this was the same face of his childhood tormenter, and he had his arm around Neasa as if they were lovers – but that wasn't possible. There was no way Neasa would date someone like Sirius Black.
Severus felt his heart rise to his throat as he turned the photograph over and saw, written in Sirius's hand:
Westminster, June 1981. Our one-year anniversary. Taken by Remus.
All of the good will, the sense of security and trust he'd been led to feel around Neasa began to evaporate as Severus read those words. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears; he could feel his heart speeding up and out of control.
One part of him wanted to confront Neasa, to demand answers – one part wanted to cry – but the biggest part, the part that won in the end, wanted to keep his cool and act natural. So he employed Occlumency – emptying his mind of as much emotion as he could, forcing the tears back from the corners of his eyes.
He could hear Neasa closing the living room door and returning to the bedroom – he threw the photo of Sirius back under the bed and returned the album to the shelf, just as Neasa walked in.
"Neasa – listen," he began, inventing hastily, "I have work to do – Poppy asked for some Pepperup Potions so – so I should – go."
"Sure? Dinner's about to start – you can work later," Neasa said.
Severus didn't think that anything he ate would stay down, but he didn't want to argue the point – he just said, "You're right – I – er – I'll see you in the Great Hall."
He quickly walked past her, not meeting her eye, and out of habit pulled the door behind him so it was ajar. But before leaving, he hesitated in the corridor, and pressed his eye to the crack, watching Neasa through it.
He saw her reach under the bed to retrieve the photo, saw her examining it for a moment. A fond smile tugged on her lips, just for a second and then it was gone, as if she was trying to suppress it.
At dinner, Severus sat between Albus and Umbridge so he wouldn't have to sit next to Neasa. He kept his head down, ignoring all attempts at conversation, ate as quickly as he could and left without glancing in Neasa's direction. Only when he was confined to the safety of his bedroom did he allow himself to hastily unbutton his stifling collar, tangle his fingers in his hair, and let the tears fall from his eyes to his lap.