Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize is J.K. Rowling's, everything you don't is mine.

PROLOGUE

"This is Cindy Cartwright with Boston's WNGN News Hour. Later in the show we will cover the President's recent State Of the Union Address but first your breaking local news.

"Yesterday the day ended in tragedy for one prominent Boston family, discovered dead in their home early this morning. Originally from Dublin, Ireland, Police Commissioner Declan o Cinneide was one in a long line of police officers and seemed eager to carry on the tradition. While still serving in Ireland, he married the now retired Captain Aisling o Cinneide. Also, their two sons, Colm and Eoin recently joined the organized crime task force. Before he was assigned to his current post, Commissioner o Cinneide was also a member of the Organized Crime Task Force, focusing mostly on the Irish gangs in Boston.

"Police report that the killings were particularly brutal and are believed to mob related. One family member survived: their youngest child Aine. She has been taken to an unspecified hospital, some report in critical condition. The police department expresses great sadness over the tragic and violent loss of such a prolific police family. The press conference will stream live at five o'clock.

"Next on our local news: why the homeless have become more violent lately and what you can do to protect yourself…"

"I am Hilda Gussy and this is Boston's Wizarding News. If you a are listening to us on the radio please, as always, look around you and be sure you are away from muggles; if you are listening to us through your wand please make sure you are in a wizard jurisdiction. Thank you.

"Wizarding World news up next, but first your local magical headlines. After a rash of wizard carelessness in the past year the American Ministry of Magic recently instituted stricter punishment for the use of magic around muggles. Today in the Boston area the first arrest has been made under those new provisions.

"Aine o Cinneide is charged with terrorizing and assaulting three muggles in her home. Initial reports tell us she will plead self-defense. However, as a witch who has chosen to live entrenched in muggle society and has expressed a desire to pursue a muggle profession, the punishment she is set to receive will be particularly strict, as specified in the recent change in law.

Up until recently Aine commuted from home to the Salem Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Teachers report she had outstanding marks and was a healthy and bright 16-year-old. As an underage witch there is a possibility her sentence will not be as harsh as the law requires, but she will also be charged with the underage use of magic, which may negate such leniency.

"Next up we will interview the new Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. His voice travels all the way from England to speak with us…"

"Albus, there must be something we can do. "

"I'm afraid there is very little I can do, Minerva, and even less that you could." There was no joke in the older man's eyes and he fussily rearranged the papers on his desk. "The American Ministry is eager not to let this opportunity go to waste. She was the first arrested after the law change and they feel they must set an example by her. They want to make it clear: absolutely no magic in front of muggles."

"But those muggles meant to kill her—maybe she even hoped to save some of her family."

His eyes twinkled for a moment. "Or exact revenge?'

"Either way she'd be dead now otherwise," McGonagall replied in a huff. "Isn't that what matters? An innocent girl saw her family killed in front of her and protected herself as she saw fit. And we send her to jail? It doesn't seem right."

"But that's not what Minister Dawson is thinking of. He can't take the chance that she hoped to kill those men. Revenge might then look to others as a reason to use magic against muggles." Finally he leaned back in his chair, the piles on his desk organized and reorganized to perfection. "Don't fret about it. She's up for parole in 18 months. We'll go get her then. Everything will be for the best, I'm sure."

"It's injustice! Witches prison is no place for a 16-year-old and you know it. Especially one in America!"


	2. Chapter 2

Sirius and James walked down the hall slowly, alert and quiet. Cutting class at Hogwarts was not for the faint of heart. The last detention they incurred had them performing tasks for Filtch better not spoken of. As they ambled by the half open doors of classrooms and study halls the sounds of softly turning pages and the hard voices of teachers lecturing floated out to meet them. If the door was open enough James occasionally caught the bright eye of a classmate or two inside and gave her a dashing wink and "Stop that giggling!" was heard from the miffed teacher as they passed.

"That kind of thing is why your Lilly hates you so, you know," said Sirius once they walked through he schools entrance hall and out into the spring sun.

"You're just jealous I'm in love."

Sirius laughed. "Maybe. If I thought you knew what love was I might be... but as it is I'm sure I'm not."

"Yes. I can see you're very well versed in such a feeling. Who is she this time?"

"Who is who?"

"The talented woman who hit you in neck with a bat, of course." James laughed as Sirius tried to crane is head and look at his own neck. "Tell me you remember her name."

Sirius hastily settled with covering the field of hickeys with his hand before crying, "Shelley is very sweet and I won't have you talking about her that way!"

"Fair play, fair play. Don't get too excited and hurt yourself now."

"Isn't it beautiful outside," Sirius said in a sugar sweet voice, looking out over the great lake. "The sun, the birds… positively magical!"

"I know you changed the subject and ha-ha." James said, looking at his friend sideways for acknowledgement. Getting none, he played along, "But it is much better than being McGonagall's class right about now. Is it just me or has she been a little...on edge?"

"The understatement of the year," scoffed Sirius, 'She's been just plain mean!"

Laughing, they leaned back into the sweet grass, loosing their ties and dozing off as the sun grew warmer and warmer and the breeze toyed lovingly with their hair.

Aine o Cinneide arrived in prison on the most beautiful day in March. It was warm and sunny for the season and the winter snow was melted entirely, but for a stray bit of ice here and there. They told her five years with the chance for parole, but she couldn't tell if she wanted to be let go or if she wanted to sit and rot somewhere, forever.

The hospital had released her that day, with a gunshot wound in her leg and a bullet still nestled in one of her ribs like it was flirting with her. She could feel the wrappings, tugging at fine hair and skin as she moved and felt as though they were her only companions. On her back, also covered in gauze and tape was the something that hurt too much to ignore but that she was focusing all her energy on forgetting. She knew when she shifted the injury opened itself up to the air again, refusing to heal, oozing blood and transparency—an enemy forever with her, never fading.

The bus she rode on was a dank grey, inside and out and the bars were covered with mesh grating and, she assumed, strong spells. Her lemon yellow jumpsuit said MASSACHUSETTS WITCHES PRISON on the back in bright purple letters. It didn't matter really, but she knew she looked pretty bad in yellow and had expected orange, which she had envisioned wearing while the judge sentenced her, and didn't know what to think about it. As she looked out the window at the approaching prison, which looked like any other prison, all she could think about was the jumpsuit and its surprising yellowness.

When they arrived she was pulled off the bus—the only passenger that day—and shuffled over to processing. The magical restraints that made her feel disconcertingly paralyzed were removed and she was unceremoniously strip searched by an overweight grumbling witch and given a new jumpsuit several pairs of underwear a white tank top a pair of serious looking boots.

"Steel tipped toes," pointed out the witch as Aine put her clothes on, mortified she was being watched so carefully as she did it. When the guard spoke Aine looked up at her questioningly. The guard looked down at her smugly. "We can hear your thoughts in here, honey, just so's to make sure you don't get any ideas."

_Fuck me. _Thought Aine despairingly and the warden replied, "I wouldn't think that too often, love. You're quite a pretty peach and there are some naughty wardens about. They might take it as an invitation." The warden leaned over and stroked Aine's long brown hair. She picked up a lock slowly, running her eyes over it as it winked copper and deep red in the dim indoor light. Aine looked up into her greedy eyes with a feeling of deep fear. There was never a time in her life when she had felt powerless. Growing up her family _was_ the police—people respected her, as she deserved. And now she was nothing but the sweet easy temptation for a prison full of miscreants. _Oh, the mysteries of life._

The warden laughed. "You're funny. I hope it helps you in there." She grabbed Aine's arm and lead her away into the prison the moment the bots were tied up. "As to the steel in your shoes, we've had too many incidents of girls breaking eathother's feet for the spite of it. I think when their wands are taken they feel so powerless they fight each other for control. Or something." They arrived at their destination—a small cell with a creaky bunk bed. Olive wool sheets. A toilet in the corner with a washstand and a mirror, broken to pieces. Aine looked at the warden as she set her things on the bottom bed, since the top looked taken. The other woman shook her head, but nodded when Aine moved her extra clothing underneath her mattress.

"Sleep with them on is my advice." Aine looked at her with confusion. Smiling the warden continued, "You're liable to get either your boots or your toes stolen, other wise." She laughed loudly and suddenly and Aine jumped. "Or both!"

Aine sat down on the bed, not knowing what was expected of her. "Well come on, come on the girls are out in the yard and I'm," she chuckled a little and took Aine's arm again, "sure they want to meet you as soon as they can."

As they emerged from the building the sun blinded Aine for a moment and when she could focus her eyes she saw a huge, dead-looking yard—dusty ground, a couple of dusty shrubs and chain link fence—and several quidditch courts, which confused her.

"Broom-blocker spells," said the warden before she left, locking the door behind her.

Aine took a couple steps forward into the sun and realized every woman outside was watching her. They had been milling around in their blinding jumpsuits, but now they were all still. Aine didn't know what to do. Should she wave? That was the last thought she had time for before they were on her. The first blow landed directly on the gauze on her back and she screamed and fell to the ground. Then the scene turned into some thing from an Animal Planet; they were like sharks and she very much resembled fresh meat.

Later as she was being tended to in the prison doctor's she realized they had partly been fighting over her—like squabbling over property rights. She had the doctor cut all of her beautiful red-brown hair of right then.


	3. Chapter 3

I'll do a disclaimer every other chapter, I guess, since I clearly forgot last time. I don't own anything you recognize.

19 MONTHS LATER

"Aine o Cinneide you have been found fit for parole and will be released immediately to your uncle, a mister Cathal o Cinneide, living in London, England. You must report to your parole officer in London no less than every month. Though you will soon be of age, the use of magic is restricted by your parole status. Should you decide to return to school you will be permitted to use those spells you might practice in class but no others. Should you break parole in any way, or try to extricate yourself from the United Kingdom at any time you will find yourself back in prison right quick. Am I understood, young lady?'

Aine looked up at the judge with a hard expression and replied morosely, "Yes, sir."

The judge struck his gavel and she jumped where she was standing. He continued, "Good then. You shall be released into the temporary custody of a Sir Albus Dumbledore, who will escort you to the United Kingdom and your uncle. Court dismissed."

Aine remained standing after the judge exited, waiting to be lead away, but when no one came and the court was empty she turned of her own volition and saw an older man sitting in the very back wearing wizard dress robes. Aine herself was wearing the clothing she wore as she left the hospital—a bright yellow jumpsuit. She had no clothing of her own to begin with and so they had given her none as she left.

The man stared at her and she stared back not knowing what to say. Surely none of the interactions she had experienced in prison were appropriate here and her life before then seemed like a strange dreamy lie, spun by a cruel person. Actions were much the same dilemma; she wasn't sure if she should walk up to him or wait for him to come take her by the arm and lead her away. The year and a half she had been inside was all the time she needed to rapidly and unfairly grow up into an adult and, now grown, she was subject to a set of social rules that would never be useful in the real world.

A person observing her might never realize the battle inside her head. Her face was blank and impassive as she considered her options; if anything, she looked rebellious and stubborn, stonily eyeing him from across the room as though he was a dangerous enemy.

Finally she let out a long breath and walked across the courthouse towards him as he watched her with sharp blue eyes. Her instinct made her expect to be grabbed by a hidden prison warden as she passed into the public seating area of her own will, free at last—a dirty trick. "Are you my custodian?"

"Yes, I am Albus Dumbledore and pleased to make your acquaintance." He stood and acknowledged her gracefully. "Would you like to have some other clothing to wear or are you comfortable?"

"Would you like me to wear something else?"

"Um. Well, truthfully yes. I think you might cause a stir otherwise. No?"

"That's probably true."

Albus paused and looked at her serious face. She looked tired… and eyebrowless? "My dear, what happened to your eyebrows?"

Smiling sourly she replied, "Don't let it worry you. It's a prison trick. They'll grow back with time. They always do."

An awkward pause ensued, with neither knowing what to think or say. It was only broken when Dumbledore interjected, "Shall we?"

"Sure."

On The train they had little to talk about. Dumbledore read a Magical Newspaper and Aine stared out the window blankly. She was dressed in hand-me-down, ill-fitting clothing, brought along by the thoughtful Headmaster, the old yellow jumpsuit saved as a souvenir and stashed away with a shrinking charm. Before her eyes, the Massachusetts countryside rushed by like pictures in a flipbook. It was late summer, maybe considered early fall, and the deep warm weather foliage was so deeply green it was almost wilting, the threat of cold weather pressing insistently upon it.

"When do I actually get my wand back?"

Dumbledore looked up from his reading for a moment and said, "Probably sometime soon. In the mail, as it were." His eyes returned to the words but did not move along the lines of text. After waiting a moment he looked up again and said casually, "Have you given any thought to finishing your schooling?"

"Enough."

"And your decision?"

"Don't you think I've had about all the education I can stand these past two years?" She moved her eyes to look directly at him to find his eyes staring back, piercing but kind. She continued, "I wonder if I didn't learn just about everything I may need to know." Her gaze returned to its constant vigil.

"That may be but—"

"You don't need to tell me, Sir. I know how important it is. I didn't begin my life in jail. At one time I had a family that loved me and I was at the top of my class. I was the model student. I would not pass up a chance to finish school."

Dumbledore sighed. "I was hoping as much."

Aine paused for a moment, debating with herself. Breaking the silence suddenly she added, "But to be clear: I wasn't referring to academics. One of the most important experiences of the 'high school' education will always be lost on me. It ought to have been the time in my life that introduced me to love and friendship and camaraderie. I'm not sure I'm interested in those things ever finding their way into my life now."

Looking sad but with a secret, he replied, "Don't be too certain. Hogwarts is like nowhere you've ever been, I promise. Just leave your heart open and someone will find their way in. You'll see."

Aine saw herself clearly in the window, staring back, hard and battered, her face looking nothing like she remembered; with a shaved head and no eyebrows it was pale and blank, like smooth marble. She had received freckles from the sun from her time in the yard and, though they were not readily noticeable, small white scars littered the skin of her face, collecting from the moment she began to fight back that first day, rising amongst her attackers with fury burning her heart. She protected herself while she was there, feeding her anger and hurt over the deaths of her family and her imprisonment into the bodies of those against her.

Aine heard what he had said but didn't reply because she knew she hoped no one would befriend her, nimbly slither into her heart. She never wanted to share her experiences with anyone—some of the things she had done… Embarrassment wasn't the right word. Her memories horrified even her and she had committed them. You could argue that she did them to survive, but the truth remained: now she was no better than the criminals her family so readily punished. There were no excuses sure enough to comfort her.

"When would you like to return to school? The current semester has just begun—tomorrow is the great welcoming feast, actually—and we could fit you in easily. But if you don't feel up to it, which is understandable, you may wait a year, spend the time with your Uncle and his—"

"This year will do. I don't wish to tarry." _Or spend any time with my Uncle and his happy, complete family, thank you. _

"Very well then"

"Is there any time for me to gather school supplies?"

"I assure you, we have extras of everything you will require, and where we do not we will supply them."

"I have no money to pay you for them."

"Your parents left you a small amount, actually, but it won't be necessary. On the house!" His eyes twinkled invitingly, but when she failed to smile back he returned to his paper.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer (Sorry it wasn't in bold before now. whoops.): Nothing you recognize is mine.**

The four marauders sat together in the great hall, ready for their sixth year, already forming devious plans for deviously devious pranks. They huddled together, bending over the large table to press their heads together, whispering and giggling as students flowed into the hall from the carriages outside. Slowly as more students settled down, the atmosphere dimmed from nervous excitement to quiet agitation as they began to await the appearance of the first years, which everyone knew always preceded the appearance of the food.

Dumbledore, decked out in his most fabulous shimmering robes and shining spectacles, rose slowly and though the hall didn't become quiet the din died down significantly. Aine was in the hall waiting, separate from the huddled mass of terrified first years, watching disinterestedly as Hagrid wrangled them clumsily. She heard the noise disappear completely and was suddenly reminded of the cafeteria in the Witches Prison, as the Wardens walked slowly through, picking out likely victims and dragging them away. Though she wasn't directly thinking of it, her body tensed and her back grew straight. A mask slipped down over her calm face, like glass slipping between skin and muscle, hardening her as it made her fragile.

Inside, Dumbledore was continuing his speech. "…And this year I am sure you will adhere to these rules." The marauders felt his eyes upon them and looked up together, smiling back innocently in return. "I have little more to say before the sorting begins but that it will not be a completely normal sorting ceremony." The great hall erupted in whispers for a moment. "Quiet down now. We have a new student—a transfer student, if you will."

Sirius looked up at Dumbledore. The pause before he said 'transfer' had caught his attention for some reason he could not place. "She will be entering as a sixth year and I expect you all to readily accept her as your own. She has come all the way from America to be here. Because of the circumstances she will be sorted before the first years enter. Please show her the same respect I know you would have shown them. Now give a warm welcome to Miss Aine O Cinneide."

"Oooo," said James, elbowing Sirius, "A girl." Thin applause began and the sorting hat was unceremoniously placed on a stool at the end of the hall by a professor. It sang no song as Aine walked out into the hall, her face dead to the world. The weak clapping died away. In her mind she felt their eyes on her, burning her. It reminded her of that first day in the yard—their eyes raking over her hungrily—but something was different. Instead of desire she felt the horror and obsession you might look at a freak in circus with. She wasn't sure which she preferred.

Meanwhile the marauders had stopped everything and were staring along with everyone else. Sirius didn't know why, but the look of her made him sad and scared and repulsed all at the same time. The woman—he would call her girl if that's what she seemed—was wearing a regular uniform and nothing about it was amiss, but she herself looked like someone from another world. She was tall for a woman, and her body was a long type of thin that made her seem unnatural, as though she was walking underwater. Sirius could swear he had never seen a woman who moved in the way she did. It seemed graceful but he could tell she was tense and fit, hyper aware of herself, her limbs and torso working in practiced, planned motions—ridged like steel but as fluid as water.

It was her head that miffed him, though. He couldn't tell if he found her appealing or not, which was rare for him, and he was sure it was because she had no hair but for the fine stubble, which covered her scalp like a dim shadow, and no eyebrows, which made her face almost grotesque in the low candle light of the hall. A red split ran nastily through her lip and several deep bruises played across her face, one flowering around her eye and another flowing outwards from the corner of her mouth.

How she singled him out in the crowd he didn't know—everyone was staring, but as she passed them slowly by her head turned and she locked eyes with him. At that moment he suddenly felt the same tight weight in his chest that he was sure she felt in hers. He tried not to blink, as she wasn't, but he had to and then her eyes were gone.

Aine looked away from the boy in the crowd, away from the clear eyes she was almost sure had seen something she intended to keep to herself. That was a thought she disliked very much. After she sat down the hat was placed on her head and it began to speak to her. Immediately she was comforted by the knowledge of magic she had not felt while in jail. It turned out to be a rude hat, but that didn't matter much.

"So…dead family jail bird, huh? More interesting than the usual I have to say."

_ That's very rude._

"True, true. I can see you've got the makings for several different houses here. Do you have a preference?"

_No._

"GRYFFENDOR!"

There were no cheers as it was announced. The whole house seemed unsure whether or not they were happy to have her or not. After a moment of confusion as to which table was hers, she ambled over to a seat, room was hastily made for her, and sat down with little ceremony. As the sorting process began in earnest she could feel him watching her, and considered turning to meet his eyes again. However, her instincts were too much for her. Turn and meet someone's gaze elsewhere and you might find yourself agreeing to a fight.

Sirius could feel her attention on him, though she didn't look at him. His gaze was trained on her where she sat, down the table from him but close enough to see clearly now. It seemed as though her expression was frozen, disinterested and dead. In the back of his mind he heard the names announced and though cheers occasionally erupted form the table he did not join in. James noted his distracted gaze and said to them, "So what do you guys think? Maybe she has cancer."

Remus, also distracted by their new addition, replied, "I didn't think even muggles beat their ill."

"She could have had an accident," Peter chimed in quietly. "You never know."

Sirius broke his silence but not his stare with a whispered, "Nah, that was no accident. Those were fists left those marks." He looked as though he couldn't tear his gaze away and even when the food arrived and his attention strayed his eyes wandered back to her. She placed food carelessly on her plate, eyeing those beside her suspiciously as she did so. He didn't know why, but Sirius got the distinct impression she was listening carefully to everything that was said around her, though it seemed she was lost in thought. Once he glanced her way and was shocked to find her eyes on him again, but in his surprise he looked away and then quickly back and they were gone, trained on her plate once more.

Aine had to look. Grey eyes had been staring too long to be ignored. Either he was very rude or he very much wanted to fight. If the latter was true to ignore him any longer might be dangerous. She looked to him only to find him looking away, speaking to a friend, and she was given a moment to observe him without reproach. Both he and the boy next to him, who had glasses, had deep black hair, while the two he spoke with across the table had light hair. Their body language betrayed them as fast friends—a dangerous weakness to let show so carelessly—as did their raucous laughter. She could tell he was tall, like his dark companion, and that they were both strong as athletes are—casually aware of their muscles. Thoughtlessly he looked to her and looked appalled to find her staring. When he looked away quickly she knew he meant no threat with his attention and went back to eating, satisfied she was not being challenged.

Sirius, on the other hand, was disappointed and embarrassed he had not been able to hold her gaze. What was he if he couldn't hold a gaze for even a moment? He hung his head over his food and ate slowly but as he sensed her turn her attention away his eyes slid after, sliding into the space her gaze left behind. She was busy slipping food away beneath the table, and fast, like she believed it would be taken away soon. Without thinking Sirius slipped a particularly perfect fruit tart under the table, mimicking her actions, and left it to rest on his leg, waiting to be presented to her later. Deep down somewhere he wanted an excuse to hear her voice, just to see what it might sound like—if it was wounded and bare like she was, or if it matched a sweet teenage girl, hidden away behind _that face._


	5. Chapter 5

Aine walked with the other students as they filtered out of the great hall, seeping towards the hidden dorms. Without being told she avoided the prefects gathering freshman and followed those students with red and gold ties—her new house, a family she had no intention of joining.

The food she stashed away rode with her, wrapped in a napkin, held discretely beneath one side of her skirt. Early on she learned that she held something casually below her waist it was recognized less readily. Food could be carried that way but so could weapons. Aine hadn't meant to stash the food away—she was sure they'd feed her regularly here, but the reflex was too much. If she hadn't done it she might have trouble sleeping, unconsciously wondering if she might go hungry the next day. Afterward she wished she hadn't. As she walked along with the sweeping mass of laughing and chatting students she felt their ease and realized how embarrassed she would be should anyone spot the napkin she concealed.

Sirius, walking with the Marauders, watched her as he climbed the stairs behind below her. He couldn't lie, he wondered what the view up her skirt was like, but as he drew closer he and saw further and further up it he was disturbed to see marks like those on her face on her upper thighs—old scars and bruises like fingertips littering her pale skin. Without thinking he elbowed James and when the other boy saw Sirius was nudging him in order to look up a girls skirt James shook him off.

"C'mon, dude, what would Lily say? She's got to be around here somewhere."

As he turned away Sirius grabbed his arm and pulled him up several steps, away from the group. He said, "Prongs, just look up the new girls skirt and you'll see my point."

"Are you taking the piss?'

"Just do it."

James dipped his head down to look and immediately turned to Sirius with a pale face. "Should we tell Dumbledore?"

Sirius paused before replying, "Somehow I think he already knows."


	6. Chapter 6

Aine was settled into her area of the girl's dorm, pushed deep down into her plush mattress, almost smothered by the comforter. The dorm was dark and around her she could hear only the soft breathing of the other girls. She was more comfortable than she had been for a long time. Before she got into bed she had been very tired but she shuffled about the room pretending to organize her things and get ready for bed, waiting to hear the others settle down and drift to sleep. Then, before sleeping, she settled the food she ferreted away in her bedside drawer, tasting small bits of it as she did so. Never again would she allow herself to fall asleep after anyone—it was too dangerous—and the feel of the looks she was given as she settled in did little to help her relax around her new roommates.

However, as she lay in her suddenly new, very comfortable bed she longed for the bed in jail. She could recall the hardness of it and the eternal chill beneath the thin blanket, sleeping with her feet, in her shoes, hanging off the edge of the bunk, as the warden had suggested her first day, but it had become comfortable and made her beautiful new bed feel suffocating at best.

Determined to try to get to sleep, she lay awake for a long time, willing her body to relax, as she had her first nights in jail, terrified and absolutely alone, but there was little she could do for herself. Frustrated, she rose and half-dressed, pulling her formal, button-down school shirt on over her white tank top and sleeping shorts. After she opened the door to the stairs she went back and pulled on the long wool socks they gave her, red and gold for Gryffindor messily pulled up her calf.

In the common room the huge fireplace still blazed happily. Indulging herself, she stood close to the fire, leaning her shoulder against the stone mantle as she had when she lived at home with her family. All four of them—waiting to greet her as she came home, thrilled by the novelty of a witch in their muggle family. Her father and mother had wanted her to become an auror—magical policemen as they saw it—but her brothers wanted her with them, beside them, and she agreed. Magic was useful, and she needed to be able to control hers, but she dreamed of wearing that deep blue with her brothers, to have everyone know they were a _family _of cops.

How little it all seemed to matter. She would give all she had for mere moments together with them again, if only to wrestle in the park and messily watch TV with her brothers. She'd love them to try to defend her against well-meaning boyfriends again, though she despised them for it while they were alive. Now there was no one to look out for her at all, and how she missed it.

Sirius ambled through the halls, headed back from a particularly passionate snog with one of his regulars. His tie was askew and his hair mussed and pressed sweatily against his forehead—shoes untied. The fat lady tutted severely at him but opened the portrait hole with no struggle. Some nights, when she really felt justified telling him off, she'd make him stand there and wait as she scolded him.

As always the common room was aglow with firelight and warmth. Sirius meandered in with the intention of sitting contentedly by the fire for a while, basking in afterglow, but he stopped. He felt her before he looked up and saw her. The tall transfer student was standing perfectly still, her forehead resting on the mantle as she stared into the flames. He noticed achingly that she was wearing small sleeping shorts that exposed her legs nicely, long and supple. It would have been a welcome sight had he not been able to more clearly see the marks there, standing out in harsh relief in the firelight.

Aine saw him there, not immediately as she might otherwise, but when he stepped forward into the light she noticed. Grey eyes from the great hall. Sirius watched as she turned her head to him slowly, still resting on the stone fireplace, her arms crossed, and regarded him questioningly. _Yes? _

"I've just come in from being out." Sirius realized immediately how stupid he must sound. As if she cared where he had been. "What I mean is I'm sorry if I startled you—I just didn't expect to find anyone here." When she continued to look at him he began to feel even sillier and added, "I don't want to intrude so I'll just go up to bed…"

He turned to leave but to his surprise she spoke. "The room is big enough for both of us to be comfortable. I don't see why you'd need to leave." Sirius didn't know what he expected, but her flat American accent shocked him, as did the quality of her voice. It wasn't as sweet was he had hoped but it wasn't as rough as she looked either; a midrange pitch, not high but not low, and it had almost no life in it, as though she had no interest in anything around her. Like her looks, the sound made him feel strange, not sad but not fulfilled. He sat down heavily in a large armchair near the fire.

He paused in thought for a moment, still sitting up straight in the soft chair, "What's your name? Anna?"

She had already looked back to the fire but she turned to him again and said, "Awn-ye. Aine. But close is good enough."

"Is that an American name?"

"No." It was suddenly uncomfortably quiet and she turned back to the fire again, head up and back rigid, hands clasped behind her back. Sirius noticed the hard but supple curves of her body as the firelight played through her shirt and sneakily revealed them to him in relief. Initially he looked away, but his eyes drifted slowly back almost against his will. His gaze traveled slowly up her, lingering here and there, until he reached her neck. He gulped and more slowly he let his vision sip up the long swan lines to that which he dreaded, her face. He expected her to be looking at him as she had in the great hall, but she had moved away from him again, lost in thought.

The shadows cast by the fire were deep and strange and almost gave the impression of hair and eyebrows and he saw suddenly that she would have been truly lovely to look at in her best form. Her face was a beautiful mix of crisp, strong features and delicate lines. The corners of her lips turned up coyly and her eyes were almost almond shaped and deeply hooded—easily made seductive. The firelight made her dark irises translucent and for a moment Sirius could believe he could see her humanity reflected in them.

Sirius looked away sharply. The possibility of her beautiful softness only made the way she looked more disturbing, especially as he assumed she had done it to herself. Though he had only just spoken his first words to her he felt deeply angry that a young girl could be made to change herself in such a way. To feel she wanted to.

"What happened to your face?" The words came out of his mouth sounding harder than he had intended. Immediately after he spoke he bit his lip.

Aine's head snapped around and her gaze burned him.

Sirius immediately blushed and recanted, "Sorry, that's none of my—"

"It's fine. If you can, I prefer you be honest." She thought for a moment, struggling to choose the most diplomatic words to describe what had happened. "I got in a fight."

"Did you win?"

Sirius saw her smile, a brittle frigid thing. She replied, "I had no chance, to tell the truth." His body surged with anger as he imagined her on the ground, a huge man pummeling her remorselessly. Aine saw a different image; the group of them jumping her in the showers, grabbing her before she had realized what was happening. The guards always let it go on a little before stopping and after they pulled the women off of her she was a bloody mess, the water cleaning her as she bled. Her court date had to be moved while she recovered from her going-away present.

She noticed the grey-eyed boy tense and flush as she told him, but she couldn't understand his anger. It had nothing to do with him. She turned and sat down in the adjacent armchair—the one farthest away. They regarded each other for a time before staring at the fire separately, drifting away into their own thoughts.

Sirius closed his eyes, letting himself feel her presence across from him, the image of her, curled up in the armchair like a spool of coiled wire, ready to spring. Her legs deeply enticed him, as did the areas of her body he could only wonder at. Though he felt wrong for doing so, he allowed himself to imagine running the tips of his fingers lightly up the curve of her naked back, her body arching to his touch, her skin smooth and beautiful like alabaster and porcelain. Lovingly he would lower his head to graze her long neck with his lips, push his face into her hair. But she had no hair. Sirius opened his eyes with a start.

And she was asleep. Aine had noticed his closed eyes and relaxed posture and believed he had dozed off. Once she felt the threat he might have posed diminish she couldn't help but slip way herself, folding backwards into the springy chair, the front of her body bathed in the glowing warmth she was so unaccustomed to.

Sirius regarded her for a moment, feeling free at last to look her over undetected. As his eyes roved her body, replaying his dark fantasies somewhat, he found he preferred her relaxed. Some of the hardness left her and she looked more her age—soft and open, her long limbs piled around her in disarray. Her legs had been pulled to her chest but they drooped towards the floor messily as she fell into deeper and deeper sleep. Her head was tilted back, exposing her soft alluring throat, lips parted in invitation.

_The things I'd do to you, _thought Sirius as he pulled himself from his chair. He took a couple of steps toward her before shaking his head and walking instead over to the couch to retrieve the common room blanket from the back of the couch. He made sure the soft side was towards her and approached to tuck it around her, but the moment he touched her she sprang up like a wild thing.

Aine grabbed her attacker's neck, digging her fingernails into the soft skin there, before she threw a punch, landing her fist deep and hard in his belly. As he dropped to the floor she stood and tried to orient herself, bleary eyes darting around the room in confusion. "What were you thinking of doing, you crazy bitch," she spat at him, as he curled on the floor around his aching stomach, gasping for breath. "Murder me in my sleep would you? Attack me? How dare you." Aine put her foot on his back. "I'm going to—" He looked up at her with watery eyes. "Wait, who are _you_?"

Sirius didn't remember the last time he had been hit so hard and the desperate, afraid look in her eyes as she stared down at him startled him. "I'm Sirius," he choked out, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Aine began to put the pieces back together after seeing his face. Her memories resurfaced and she rushed to help him stand. "I'm so sorry. I mistook you for someone else?" She tried to laugh a little as she helped him up, but his look stopped her dead.

"Who might that be? Hitler?" Sirius said it how he meant it—without a smile. He wanted to know, and badly.

Aine noted his searching look and said sheepishly, telling only half a lie, "I have a lot of bad dreams that seem very real to me. It's an affliction—the reason I'm down here to begin with." She shrugged and tried to give the best innocent smile she could muster. "Cant sleep, you know."

Sirius paused before responding. She was lying, and not very well, and he was curious indeed, but felt his interest might be better served at another time. In order to break the ice—and the mood—he responded darkly and suggestively, "Next time you have trouble, darling, my room is just up those stairs, sixth door, third bed to the left. Don't be shy."

Aine pulled away from him sharply, dropping his arm and stepping far away from him. Sex was a dangerous threat in prison—perhaps here too? She had just attacked him, however inadvertently, and maybe he was indeed threatening her. It would be easy for him, coming upon her in a dark hallway, to do with her what he wanted. True, she dropped him with one punch, but she caught him by surprise. His size and build suggested in a fair fight she would be the loser. In jail the threat of rape terrified her—it was the only thing that could. Physical violence she could handle but not rape; it was humiliating and degrading and to be avoided.

Sirius was confused by her sudden pale face and rigid posture, as she stumbled away from him, quickly putting the couch between them. Her eyes were wide and terrified but he couldn't understand why. Was it what he said? "Look, I didn't mean anything by it. I was joking around, you know."

"I understand." It was clear she didn't from the way she kept looking at him.

"I'm sorry. You obviously took it the wrong way. I was just trying to be friendly."

"Clearly." She turned partially away from him and looked stonily into his eyes. Aine couldn't tell if he was lying or not. He seemed genuine but one never knew. In her experience the most dangerous enemies also often seem the most honest. Without so much as a good night she disappeared into the darkness of the girl's staircase, leaving Sirius standing alone in the deeply shadowed common room, hating himself for a reason he didn't understand.


	7. Chapter 7

Both of them got no sleep that night. Aine emerged from her room looking as she did every day—pale and serious—and Sirius himself arrived in the great hall messy and sleepy. As he walked down the long table to sit with the marauders he spotted her, alone, halfway down it. She seemed to sense him and caught his eye, fixing him with a powerful hard look. Time seemed to slow down as his insides shivered with mortification and guilt. What must she have assumed he meant? It was a joke!

The moment he had roused himself in the morning the tart he stole for her stared saucily back at him from his bedside table, accusing him of a crime that confused him. Why hadn't she just laughed and brushed it off—joked back with him? He blamed himself. Who knew what offended Americans? He should have been more careful. Aine let her eyes follow him slowly as he passed her, trying to intimidate him with her coolness. The truth was, the more she though about it the more she was sure he had threatened her. There had been darkness in his voice as he said it and the memory of it terrified her. Eventually she decided the best approach was to bluff—try to intimidate him into keeping his distance. If her ever tried something she knew she could hurt him, but she also knew she wouldn't win. There was no chance of that, but this strategy had worked for her on other occasions and she hoped it would hold true.

Sirius watched from his seat as Aine slowly finished her breakfast. She had her mind on him, he could feel it, and as she got up to leave she fixed her gaze on his once more and the threat and hatred in her eyes burned into him. His body still felt cold after she turned to walk out.

"Shit, what did you do?" Remus startled him with his question and Sirius turned quickly, face pale.

"Trust me, I don't understand it myself, really." Remus gave him a disbelieving look and Sirius continued reluctantly, "…but I have some feeling it had to do with my mouth."

"And what did your mouth do?"

"Ran away with me."

"As always." Remus sighed, continuing to glance through his paper. "You should really patch it up, you know. I warrant she's in most all our classes this term, required as they are."

"Well crap, man. How do I do that?"

"You'll think of something I'm sure. You have enough experience with these things, after all."

Remus didn't see it, absorbed as he was, but Sirius shot him a very dirty, unappreciative look before gathering his things to leave.

And on his way out he snatched a particularly perfect-looking tart and a napkin to wrap it prettily in.

Aine was indeed in almost all of his classes. During the morning his only brief respite from her accusatory presence was in his short half-hour study hall. Later he would discover that she was indeed in there with him too, but sitting where he could not see her—staring at him through the stacks, planning. Only then, thinking he was alone, did he feel he could relax. During the other morning classes—Arithmancy and History of Magic—she had pointedly ignored him but positioned herself in the classroom in order to see him easily at all times. There had been a good deal of note taking and despite the worry caused by the new girl Sirius dozed off in both classes (and the study hall) and saw little of what went on around him.

Aine, on the other hand, was tense and afraid for the length of the morning, keeping one eye perpetually fixed on her new enemy at all times. When he fell asleep in the first class she turned and openly stared, scrutinizing his form to make sure he truly slept. At first, the boy who sat next to him stared back at her with a mix of amusement and confusion and when she noticed him she made sure to stare back stonily. He had sweet looks like his friend, but soft and welcoming instead of dark and powerful, with an open face and sandy angelic hair. _They must be in cahoots._

Remus tried to smile back, forcing a shivering shadow of the gesture out under her hard gaze but it escaped quickly when, instead of returning the gesture, she narrowed her eyes and looked at him menacingly. Still holding her gaze he shook Sirius' arm gently to wake him. As Sirius woke he followed his friends gesture and found himself looking deep into the cold brown eyes he had been trying to forget. Glumly he covered his head and turned back to the desk as Remus mumbled, partially in awe, "You've got to do something about that, brother."

Aine didn't attend lunch for fear of reprisal from her would-be enemy (or enemies) and instead she sat in one of the open courtyards and blindly looked through her new schoolbooks. The sun was warm and she hadn't recently been able to go outside when she wanted, or skip a meal if she felt like it, and eventually she leaned her head back on the tree she sat against and closed her eyes, letting her knees droop, the book still open on her lap.

Sirius, however, had noticed she didn't appear at lunch, for he was waiting there in the hall outside for her to appear so he could try to fix the misunderstanding they had between them. He had kept his eye on her as they walked from their last class together and knew approximately where he had lost her so she was relatively easy to find—there were only so many places a new student could get themselves to easily. He waited in shadow and watched her raptly while she believed herself to be alone. It was clear to him she had no interest in the books she casually flipped through and it pleased him to see her relax fully and finally rest. Even standing so far away he could swear he felt what might have been her soul itself unclench and let out a great sigh.

Though he told himself it pained him to do it, he gave her a few moments of serenity before slinking across the fresh grass towards her, quiet and graceful like a big cat. After he had positioned himself on the bench with her—but out of her reach—he said softly, "Aine."

Her eyes flew open and she spun around, only to be confronted by his face. Sirius was pained to see a look of fear slip over her, and then anger, before she regained her calm. He rushed into the apology that had been replaying in his mind all morning.

"Look I realize my comment last night was inappropriate. I don't know you and I shouldn't have just assumed you would understand that it was a joke. I'm sorry I offended you—or whatever I did and I'd like it if you accepted this peace offering." He hurriedly placed a perfect glistening pastry on the bench between them and pulled his hands back as fast a he could. "I noticed you didn't come to lunch. I saved this for you this morning—what luck, right?" When she didn't respond Sirius managed a small "ha-ha" that stuck firmly in his throat. He swallowed. "Look forward to seeing you this afternoon—fun classes and all. Um… yeah. So long then."

Aine stared at the pastry for a long time after he was gone, picking small chunks of almond off the top thoughtfully, not sure of what to make of it. Maybe there was something harmful in it? She was hungry but too distrustful to eat it so she ate all the almonds off the top and left the rest sitting where it was when she went to class. The place was weird.


	8. Chapter 8

**My original Disclaimer still holds.**

While the morning classes had consisted mostly of taking notes the afternoon ones were much more hands on and Aine didn't know what she'd do as her wand had not arrived yet. Transfiguration was the first one and the professor seemed strict—no one spoke or acted out as the students entered the classroom. Aine was the last to enter—lost and slightly late—and found that almost everyone had hurriedly seated themselves and the only seat was directly in front of Sirius, who now confused her more than scared her, and his two friends. Whatever her feelings toward him after the pastry present, she did not want to be where she could not see him but she reluctantly moved towards them.

"Aine?"

Aine turned to look at the teacher sitting in the front of the room. "Yes, professor?"

"Please come here for a moment, dear." A rash of whispering broke out as Aine did as she was told. Professor McGonagall never called any of them anything so kind as 'dear.'

When Aine arrived at the desk she felt the eyes of everyone in the room on her, wondering what McGonagall was saying to her. Sirius James and Remus had particularly good seats, sitting off to the side with a complete view of McGonagall's desk. But when she pulled a wand box out from her drawer they were puzzled.

"I am sorry to do this in this manner," whispered the professor, "but while your wand has arrived I am sorry to say that there is a period of probation required before it can be given back to you truly. You understand also, that even when in your possession you are restricted from using any spells but those we practice in class. It has been spelled to know what will be used in each class."

Aine was deeply hurt but nodded her assent. To go to jail for her crime was one thing, but to be treated as a dangerous criminal another—it seemed as though she was expected to run rampant, murdering and maiming for no reason. Her crime had been an improper use of magic but there were no muggles allowed in Hogwarts and no chance to commit that crime again.

"Please remember to return your wand to me at the end of the class and remember that any failure to follow these rules or any attempt to use magic not in the lesson will be considered a breach of your parole. You will not be responsible for any homework assignments that require a wand until yours is returned to you. Please be seated.'

"Thank you ma'am," Aine whispered as she took her wand gently. It warmed under her touch and tingled gently under her fingers as though it was happy to see her again. She remembered the last time she had held it—the screaming and the pain. The deep fury was still somewhere inside her, waiting to be released again, hoping she might loose control and let it free just one more time.

The Professor might have seen something in Aine's eyes for a moment because she said, "Dear?" Aine looked up at her, snapped out of her thoughts. "Please be seated so that we may start."

Aine turned around to the class and saw the three boys staring at her with strange looks on their faces. They too had seen the dark look flash across her face, followed by a grim expression of cold satisfaction that chilled all three to the core. As she walked back towards them they spoke together in fast hushed whispers.

Sirius spoke first. "When do they take your wand away?"

"What," replied James, his eyes fixed on her as she slowly made her way to them.

"When you've done something really bad, right? Right?"

"Oh please," Remus reprimanded. "Maybe it had to be fixed or something, you don't know. Maybe whatever happened to her face happened to her wand as well."

"You saw the look she gave that thing as well as I did. There was no sun or daises in it that I could see."

Remus relented. "I know I know. We'll just see if McGonnagal takes it back after the class is over. Then we'll know for sure."

"She will, you know." They were all snapped out of their huddle by Aine's voice. She stood over them with her usual blank look, but Sirius though he could also see deep embarrassment lurking just below the surface, her cheeks tinged pink in the most alluring way.

Remus cleared his throat and said innocently, "Will what?"

"Take it away."

"Oh?"

"Yes." In a whisper she added, "I'm not allowed, you see." And then she turned from them and sat down slowly, never acknowledging them again the whole class.

They noticed as they worked, however, that she was very good with her spells. Her wand gestures were smooth and accurate, every swooping arc as precise as the last. It was impressive, really—almost an art in her capable hands. Sirius couldn't help but let his eyes run over her slowly. Remus saw what he was doing and periodically elbowed him, trying to get him to stop but he couldn't. Never had he felt so intent on stripping a girl's clothes off and worshiping her body even as he wanted to dig into her mind. It was official. He was obsessed. He had ruined it for himself a little, true, but there still had to be time to fix it and try to end up with her where he wanted her—his.

Aine was too happy to notice the jury behind her—and all around her for that matter—and she sped through the spells one after another, earning the dislike of a certain redhead across the room. "Very good, Aine," noted the professor in passing.

Towards the end of the class Aine knocked her quill to the floor with her elbow and had to lean under the desk to retrieve it. Of course Sirius' eyes were there, running over her, but they stopped abruptly on her neck. He noticed when she leaned down that thee was a rather large, rather poorly done tattoo at the base of her neck. He nudged Remus until he got his attention, quickly pointing it out. They scrutinized it together as her shirt shifted a little bit one direction and then another until they could eventually make it out. A pyramid, and inside it a large uppercase "j" flowered clearly just under the surface of her skin. They only had a moment to consider it before she sat up and the class was dismissed.

Aine walked to the front of the classroom and returned her wand and left without a word or a look back and they were left to their thoughts. The rest of the day of classes was much the same; at the beginning of each she was given her wand and at the end she gave it back. It worried Sirius to see that the Slytherins were particularly interested in her situation. They marked her actions with keen eyes. As they left their last class of the day and he saw a pack of Slytherin girls jostle Aine roughly as she walked out into the hall he became more concerned, keeping a close eyes on her as they descended to the great hall for dinner.

Aine noticed that the girls stayed on her all the way to dinner. That was no accidental meeting in the hall. As they shoved her around between them one of them had whispered, "You're dead. griffin-bitch." She must remember to try to leave dinner with a group—any group—and try to protect herself for as long as possible. They would find her alone eventually, of course, and even with a wand she was not allowed to protect herself.

Dinner was long for both Sirius and Aine, he watching her and she eating like a bird and waiting for a group to leave from her table. As far as she could tell the houses were like gangs—they might protect her just because she was one of them. A redhead laughed down the table and Aine looked up. The girl had been in transfiguration with her—and she was getting up to leave with her friends.

Sirius was shocked to see Aine jump up and follow Lily and her friends out of the hall but he was not surprised when a small group of Slytherin ladies did the same only moments later. His cousin Bellatrix was among them, her beautiful eyes hungry. He tried to shake the worry off of himself. He had no real proof that something was amiss and so he tried to go happily back to his meal and his friend's chattering conversation.


	9. Chapter 9

Aine followed a little ways back from the group of students ahead of her. The hallways were dark and echoing but just under the noise from her house-mates ahead she could make out the presence of another fast moving group behind her, speeding up on her swiftly. To her horror the students she followed stopped at the entrance to the library and all but two entered, saying their good-nights to one another. Aine could go spend time in the library if she had to, but she would rather get safely back to the common room instead.

"Lily, you're sure you won't come? You always come! No?"

The pretty red head laughed lightly but looked questioningly down the hallway. Aine shrank into the shadows. Did Lily hear her or the ones behind her? "No, no. I need to get my beauty rest tonight, you know."

"No kidding."

"Hey!"

"You know I'm joking. I think you're beautiful and blah blah blah. Catch you later, girl." The dark haired girl disappeared into the warm glow of the library and suddenly the hallway was chilly and dark, the torches casting looming shadows along the walls. Lily turned from the door just as Aine walked from the shadows as though she had been making her way swiftly down the hall the whole time.

"Hello," said Lily, eyeing Aine with distaste. "Been behind us for long?"

Aine tried to smile her most winning smile but form the strange look on Lily's face she could tell she only half managed. "Oh no—just waiting to ask you for directions. Easy to get lost in a place like this when you're new." She was very aware of the fast approaching group behind her.

"You need help?"

_So much help. _"Um, yeah." Aine needed someone to walk with. She tried to pick the place she hoped Lily was going. "Just trying to get back to the common room."

"Oh. I'm going there too," said Lily reluctantly, not wanting to be too friendly towards the girl who rivaled her in academic prowess. "You can walk with me if you like or I could just give you dire—"

"Walking together is fine with me." They stood for a moment and Aine said nervously, "Well, let's go!" Lily led her off stiffly, albeit much more slowly than Aine thought was safe.

For a long while they walked together in silence. Lily didn't know what to say, really, and Aine was much too focused on the sounds behind them to pay any mind to conversation. The dampness in the passage echoed as they traversed deeper into the castle and Aine grew more and more tense, feeling as though the area was becoming too secluded too fast.

"So you're from America?" Lily's voice was loud in the quiet around them and it startled Aine, already on alert. "Oh sorry—didn't mean to frighten you."

"Oh no—don't worry about it. Yes, America. Boston, actually."

"I've always wanted to see America."

"Same for me with England, actually. I like your accents." Aine tried another brittle heartless smile and Lily's own faltered a bit.

"Oh… yours is interesting too."

"You don't have to pretend. It won't be the first time I've been told my accent is ugly."

"No, really. You sound so sarcastic. That's harder for us, you know."

"How bout a trade, then?"

"Er…"

"Didn't think so."

Lily was pleased to see Aine's smile loosen up a little and become somewhat warmer. She heard something echo down the hall behind them and spun around. "Did you hear that?"

Aine sighed. "I think we're being followed."

"By whom?"

A voice broke in roughly, "By me, you twit."

Both girls spun to find Bellatrix Black standing at the end of the hall, waiting for them. "It took you long enough," she spat, as though she was offended by their tardiness. "We didn't expect two of you to tell the truth. But I guess two makes a party, right?" They realized three or four girls in addition to Bellatrix, wands out and ready, were slowly surrounding them.

Lily looked at Aine questioningly and Aine replied, "I'm so sorry Lily."

Lily shrugged in response and drew her wand, looking at Aine to do the same, but when Aine just looked back guiltily Lily suddenly remembered her giving her wand in at the end of every class. Realization dawned on her face and she looked to Bellatrix, saying nastily, "Seriously, Trixie? I didn't even think you would stoop this low. Attacking someone you don't know simply because she's unarmed? I thought that would be beneath even you."

"Tsk tsk." Bellatrix waved her wand menacingly. "You forget, Lily-darling. She's a Gryffendork so it's not like she never did anything—in fact, she did about all she could to deserve this." She looked to Aine and said cuttingly, "Well, that and whatever she did to land herself in jail." Aine visibly paled and stared at the floor as Lily looked to her questioningly. "That's right—my father checked you out! A muggle! A criminal!" Bellatrix was shrieking but she grew quiet again, walking to stand close to Aine. "You're worthless, you piece of shit, and I'm going to make you scream until you beg me to stop. Welcome to hell. So convenient you aren't allowed a wand."

And then Aine was in terrible, wrenching pain, writhing on the floor as Bellatrx stood over her, laughing. She could hear Lily screaming, deducting points from Slytherin, and giving them all detentions and Bellatrix ordering Lily to leave or suffer. All Aine could do was grit her teeth a groan as she felt her insides ripping apart. She could swear blood was dripping from her mouth but she almost knew there would be no lasting damage. Bellatrix could go on torturing her with no effect—no reason to stop. Aine didn't expect Lily to get involved—it wasn't her fight—but she had never been more thankful than when Bellatrix collapsed onto her, suffering from a well placed stupefy.

The other girls were on Lily immediately, throwing curses with fury and soon Lily was back to the wall doing everything she could to repel their attempts to maim her. Aine struggled out from under Bellatrix's weight slowly, hoping Lily could hold them off until she was free. But what could she do then? She had no wand, but with their attention elsewhere she had a chance for sure.

The moment she was free she gathered her strength and charged, knocking several of them down as she barreled into them and distracting the others so that lily could gain some advantage. She stepped on or smashed their hands into the floor to force them to release their wands, kicking them away. Whatever they looked like, though, they were wily girls. One landed a square kick to her ribs, surly bruising them, and another back handed her across the face as she reached to grab their wands. After they had no magical protection they were on her like animals, scratching and kicking. It was all she could do to throw them off, try to protect herself a little, but they quickly gained the advantage-, three against one as it was. Soon she was getting royally pummeled and it would most definitely leave lasting damage.

Aine looked to Lily down the hall, locked in a fierce duel with two opponents and fading fast, as Aine felt herself do. A punch landed in her gut as another girl slapped her and split her healing lip open again and it occurred to Aine that they really were in so much trouble.


	10. Chapter 10

Sirius and James left the great hall a little late and very full. Sirius had forgotten about his worries temporarily, satisfied as he was by his belly, and agreed more easily than usual to walk towards the common room by way of the library. James hoped to see Lily walking the same way, if only to be berated by her for his troubles. There was no sign of her outside or inside the library and they carried on, James outwardly dejected and Sirius the same as ever.

They were sauntering down the hallway with an easy air when James remarked, "So you've a little thing for the transfer student I take it."

Sirius snorted and replied almost drunkenly. "What thing? No thing."

"C'mon, man! You're obsessed! I mean, admit it. You stare at her like I've never—"

"Shhh! Did you hear that?"

"Oh please. Don't try to change the—" A shriek echoed from far down the hallway in front of them. "Now that I heard."

They took off running in the direction of the scream only to come upon the most confusing scene possible. Lily was pinned against the wall, frantically dueling two Slytherin girls and slowly loosing, sweat beading up on her brow, her uniform singed in several places. Aine was getting the crap beaten out of her. When James and Sirius arrived she landed a particularly heavy downwards blow and knocked one of her attackers to the floor before the same was done to her. While trying to gather herself she found herself kicked hard in the ribs like a football. She coughed hoarsely and sprang up with obvious difficulty, head-butting one attacker square in the nose before being taken down again by the other two.

Before she realized when was happening the girls were being dragged off of her and she was clawing and kicking at someone much larger. Sirius grabbed her swinging arms and tried to trap her flailing legs between his own, which obviously almost got him a very sharp kick to the groin. "Whoa! Whoa, love. Calm down now." Aine stopped, and lolled backwards, panting, her eyes closed, sweat and blood smeared over her face. He couldn't tell if she recognized him as an ally or had simply given up.

Sirius took his eyes off of her for a moment and checked Lily and James. They were sitting against the wall next to one another, arms resting on their knees, staring mutely at the stupefied bodies of the Slytherin girls. James saw Sirius looking his way and gave him an ironic sideways grin, a thumbs-up, and a small eyebrow wiggle. Lily saw him do it out of the corner of her eye and smiled despite herself.

When Sirius turned back to Aine he found her slightly come-to and gazing at him questioningly as though she couldn't place his face, just as she had the night before. Her eyes looked big and glassy in her bare face and she looked at him with something akin to sorrow. He found he didn't know what to say so he propped her up on the nearby wall and felt her arms for injuries, looking her over carefully to make sure nothing was seriously wrong with her. As he finished up he noticed a long trail of blood had dribbled from the re-opened split in her lip over her chin and down her long smooth neck and on to her collarbone, frail and beautiful in the light from the torches.

Sirius couldn't help himself. He knew he shouldn't but he reached over to brush it away and found she flinched away from his touch. It caused him to pause, if only for a moment, before he laid his fingers on her and followed the lone droplet with the pad of his thumb all the way to its source. The feel of her made him exhale involuntarily and lick his lips slowly, like running his tongue over creamy skin. He had expected her to be cool to the touch, but she was warm and alive like coals and he found himself transfixed once he arrived at her lip, his fingers lingering there for longer than they should have, drifting away from the cut. Aine trembled under him and he drew away sharply, searching for something to say to lighten the mood.

He spotted Bellatrix on the floor near them and he turned back to her in mock seriousness. "So tell me. What have you done to my dear, sweet cousin?"

Aine went cold and woke with a start from her stupor. His cousin! What might he do in revenge? She moved to scramble away from him but her grabbed her firmly by the arms. "Here now, what's this? What's wrong with you?"

Aine tilted her face away, trying to protect it with her hands. "I'm sorry! I didn't know! She attacked me. Please understand."

Sirius felt like an idiot. Of course she didn't know he was at odds with his cousin. "No, no." He tried to lean in close to her, make his way past her hands, which batted at him in a way he found sort of cute. "Don't misunderstand me. I hate my cousin and she got what she deserved. I was joking." She looked up at him questioningly and he smiled, suggesting, "Just like the last time?"

"…Oh. Oh! I'm so sorry." She laughed hollowly. "I can't really understand the humor in this country I guess." _Because in jail and in me humor is rare._ "But I will try to not get offended so easily."

Sirius reluctantly released her. "I don't think you were offended. I think you were afraid."

Aine paused. She couldn't deny it. "Well, whatever the cause may be, I will try to understand you better in the future."

As she turned away from him to look towards Lily he murmured, "Sounds like a plan." and shamelessly ran his eyes over her for the millionth time.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize from Harry Potter belongs to me, but everything else does.**

**_I would like to mention that I have just noticed the little button that adds a line for a text break. I know what you're thinking, and yes, it is very obvious. I could have sworn I already put my own break in this chapter but now I see that's not true. If this has happened in other chapters I am sorry for any confusion it may have caused. All my fault._  
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**_Thank you to paddlemore for adding my story as a 'favorite' and to Christine for reviewing. __I encourage more readers to please review this story-I want to know what your reactions are. Thank you, Pd46._**

After they gathered themselves, the four of them walked silently back to the common room. They left the attackers where they lay to wake up with headaches and bruises later that night. Once they arrived in the sweet, silent glow of the late-night common area they all stood for a moment, facing each other.

To everyone's surprise, it was Aine who broke the silence, standing diminutively away from the others, fixedly staring at the rug as though she might light it on fire with her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered at first, but then cleared her throat stiffly. Looking up at them she said clearly, "Thank you all. I- I- don't know what I'dve… um…. Your help was appreciated. Very much. I hope you'll never have to help in such a manner again." With that she turned, looking like a metal rod had taken the place of her spine, and rigidly walked past them and up the stairs to the girl's dorm.

After they heard the door quietly close Sirius forced a chuckle and bitterly said, "And here I was about to suggest we all have a stiff drink."

All he received in response was an incredibly awkward silence. James stared at Lily with dinner plate eyes. Lily stared at the carpet, thoughtfully biting at her lip. Sirius tried very hard to stare anywhere but at them, but he had to eventually say something, "So why do you think Bellatrix went for her like that?"

Lily suddenly found herself the object of interest. "Why look to me?"

"You were there. Did she say anything?"

Lily opened her mouth to reply negatively but she remembered something. _A muggle. A criminal. _

"Well?"

"No…" Lily replied tentatively at first but then gained confidence, though she couldn't look either of them in the eye. "No. They came at us from the shadows. There was no warning." When she looked up at them she saw they were both regarding her through narrowed eyes. All she could do was stick to the lie, despite their clear disbelief so she merely shrugged in response.

"Right…" breathed James.

Sirius was casual, as always. "Funny. Never knew my cousin to pass up a fine opportunity to gloat."

Lily shrugged again and brushed between them, heading towards the girls dorms quickly, feeling their eyes on her back the whole way.

Sirius and James were alone. Before heading off to their own beds they looked slyly at one another.

James spoke first, frowning. "And I've never known Lily to lie."

"Oh everyone lies." Sirius looked like he was relishing a sweet treat, head back, eyes half closed as he stared languidly in the direction of the girls dorm room. "But what secret is delicious enough to make someone as good as Lily do it?"

"You've got that look."

"Oh? What do I look like?"

"A satisfied cat."

"I feel all gooey inside."

"I bet. Well, it's bedtime now, Mr. Jingles."

When the boys arrived in their dorm they immediately crawled into bed, pulling off their clothing as they walked in. After Sirius collapsed onto his pillow he found himself confronted by the tart on his bedside table. It was so enticing. But he had to wait. _Don't worry. _He smiled as he dozed off. _Soon I'll have you all to myself._

* * *

><p>In the girl's dorm Lily and Aine were getting ready for bed in the dark, silently performing nighttime rituals in half the time they would have normally taken. Aine uncomfortably found herself in the bathroom brushing her teeth when Lily came in to do the same. They glance at each other in the mirror but kept to themselves. The only sound was the sound of furious brushing, each wanting to be done as quickly as possible.<p>

As they were finishing up, cleaning out their toothbrushes and rinsing out their mouths, Lily said suddenly, "I didn't tell them, you know."

"Didn't tell?" Aine played the fool but she had been wondering what was said in the interim between when she left and when Lily arrived upstairs.

"What Bellatrix said about you."

Aine looked quickly down into the washbasin.

"It's true, isn't it?"

"And if it is?" Aine looked her full in the face, brazen and ashen all at once.

"It's between us, of course."

"Oh." Lily was relieved to see the other girl's face soften a little.

"You never have to tell me why you were there, of course, or anything like that."

Aine couldn't reply. She didn't know what to say and she thought if she started to talk she might never stop. If Lily, this sweet girl who seemed to want her friendship, were to discover some of the things she had done… Aine's imagination only showed her rejection and disgust, maybe even horror. Without realizing it she shook her head once to the side, like a reflex.

"I expected as much…but don't worry—your secret is safe with me." Lily smiled soothingly and turned to leave.

She was almost out the door when Aine's suddenly scratchy voice stopped her. "I couldn't believe it when you helped me. I… I don't know how to repay you. I worry I'm not sure I can ever make it up to you?"

Lily turned back and smiled. "I know a way."

"Oh?" Aine suspected the worst, of course, though she tried to curb her instincts.

"We can be friends!" Aine looked confused as Lily continued, her smile growing bigger and bigger, "Sit with me at lunch, walk with me in the halls. We can sit with one another in classes! I would love your friendship. Truly."

"Oh. That would be fine. …I'm sure."

"Oh good. At first I didn't like you but now, I don't know. I want to know you better—and not just because you have crazy secrets." Lily chuckled and shrugged. "I'm so glad you agreed. I was hoping for something just like this to happen since we left the library. Well not violence, really, but you know." Without warning she pulled a stiff Aine into a huge, tight hug. At first Aine was very nervous, but when Lily's toothbrush touched tickled the edge of Aine's ear it gave the eyebrow less girl the distinct urge to laugh. _What a situation._ She glanced over into the mirror and saw herself, pitiful and ugly, standing like a statue and being brutally hugged by a warm, beautiful redhead in an atrocious fuzzy pink robe. _Who would've thought? _ Suddenly she couldn't hold it in anymore and she burst out laughing, holding onto a stunned Lily for support as she laughed herself hoarse and silly.

Lily tried to laugh along but she felt as though she had missed the joke as so she held onto Aine until everything died down. Then she asked, "Are you alright?"

Sniffing tears back and letting out some stray extra chuckles Aine replied, "Yes, yes. I don't know when the last time I laughed was. It feels good, you know."

Lily smiled and released her new friend. "I'm sure I can't know how you feel, but I understand what you mean."

Aine regarded her.

Lily, serious again suddenly, seemed to mark her look just as accurately. "I'm a good listener, Aine. If you ever want to talk I'm here. You can tell me anything."

Aine pictured a look of horror on Lily's face again. _I doubt it._

"Really, Aine, anything. I promise I won't judge you, I'll just listen."

_But what if you can't help but judge?_


	12. Chapter 12

The next morning Aine sat with Lily at lunch and was introduced to more people than she was sure she could keep polite track of.

"Aine I'd like you to meet Ann…" Aine shook the hand of the girl she had seen lily say goodnight to at the library. Shorter than her, average brown hair, icy blue eyes, dimples when she smiled; Aine tried to memorize her face. "…And Simon…" Taller than her, glasses, bookish, and probably a sweetheart as far as she could tell. He tired to give her a warm smile but she saw his eyes rushing over her face with a look of... disgust? She couldn't tell but she had to move on. "…And Cara…" Very short with short blond hair and short blond eyelashes—a little boyish but very pretty in a rough way. Her handshake was the firmest by far and Aine warmed to her faster than the others. Cara looked her right in the eye and smiled genuinely, which Aine liked very much.

The normal first meeting conversations took place and Aine found herself lying more than she liked, but there was nothing she could do about it. When she was asked where she came from she aid "America." They asked her if her family was large or small she said, with heart pangs, "Yes" and received questioning looks. She added, "Big." Did she miss them? "Oh yes. Yes." And she was almost in tears. Why did she come to a school so far away? _Because everyone's stone dead. _"Oh, you know… heard it was a better school is all. Simple as that." She could feel lily looking at her incredulously and she wanted to look back at her as though to say, '_What did you want me to tell them? The truth?' _

Aine could wait no longer. She felt as though she would burst. Her insides were shivering with despair. She had just begun to truly feel how alone she was and how sad she was—out of jail with nothing of her own and family she had barely met waiting for her somewhere she had never been.

Mostly, as the others talked about their families and friends in turn, she could suddenly clearly imagine all of the lost possibilities of her life. The others sitting around her faded from her view and their talk slowly dimmed to only a murmur and she was back at home and the same as she had been before everything happened. Not only was she socially well-adjusted, but she was beautiful and proud of it. She glowed through life, happy as the years flashed by; in several she might have gone to one of her brother's weddings, babysat small nephews and nieces, gone happily on to become a muggle policeman alongside her family, never knowing how much she had almost lost. She should have killed all those men while she had the chance, or arrived home and attacked them before they were able to… "Oh crap," she said evenly in the middle of a conversation.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," Aine smiled a bit, "I just left a book back next to my bed. I'd better go get it, I might need it later. See you guys in class?"

"Sure. You'd better hurry."

Sirius happened to be leaving also and as her got up he saw Aine trot spunkily from the hall. _Now where could she be going? _He figured he had missed her when he walked out into the entrance hall and there was no sign of her. After glancing around a little more to make sure no one else was around he ducked out into the sunshine to have a smoke. It was a dirty muggle habit, he knew, but he told himself that once in a while it was for sure fine to indulge, and today was just such a day.

He walked a little ways along the wall from the great doors to be safe and lit up, pulling the dank smoke deep into his lungs. There were spells that could help to filter it, but since he stopped living with his family he needed another way in which he could test fate and muggle filters were the best gamble he could think of. As he breathed out and leaned back he picked some excess tobacco off his toung and flicked it away. Just as he did, though, he heard a sound that he couldn't quite place. The wind both brought it to him and obscured it. It was familiar, and yet…

He sucked obsessively on his death stick and crept slowly around the base of the turret next to him, splaying his long white fingers out on the dark stone. It was rough and warm and he pressed his cheek to it as well for a moment, closing his eyes to the feeling, but another sample of the sound ruffled his hair and he moved on once more. The turret was especially large and where it met the castle proper the two walls created a fairly private nook. However, what he found there nearly caused the cigarette to drop from his mouth.

The scene was too happily sunlit to be believed, really. In Sirius' opinion, sad things should never be allowed to occur in beautiful situations—the knowledge that it could be so somehow made happy atmospheres less carefree in the future. Or something. But he decided in this case it was a fair trade. He'd take her willingly in any situation, even the current one.

There was Aine, sprawled on the ground as though she had fallen and was trying to tempt the earth into enveloping her. It looked like she had collapsed from a standing position in the corner, her bag still around her, lodged uncomfortably underneath her ribs. Sirius found the gut wrenching sobs emitting from her the most disturbing part of the whole affair. He was sure he had never heard such a horrible sound in his life. After all, he would have remembered a sound like that one; it was a sound that mad him feel near-physical pain. If he hadn't been there to see it he might have thought she was having her arm ripped off.

Normally he might have walked away but it was _her _and that_ sound_. He had to make it stop; she was rigid and near-convulsing in front of him and there must be something to be done. _I mean—what happened? She looked fine leaving the hall! _

Cigarette drooping from his mouth, he strode over and pulled her from the ground with a business-like air, pleased to be touching her but sad at the situation. Aine covered her face, trying to control her sobbing and grimacing with her hands, as she couldn't control it naturally.

Sirius tried to pull her hands away as he sat down near her with his back against the wall, "No, don't worry about that. Just relax." He pulled her stiffness to him and leaned her against his chest, enveloping her as best he could with his arms, though she felt like a wooden board. He tried to put his knees up on either side of her to create the feeling of more security and was pleased when her legs slid beneath one of them. Before either realized it she was curled around him, sobbing now into his shirt, face hidden again.

Slowly he removed her bag from her person and then he leaned back and continued to enjoy his cigarette handless, as he slowly stroked her back and arms, humming a quiet tune. Aine didn't know what got the better of her—the soft sound deep in his throat, or the warmth of another person, both things she had not enjoyed in a while. After what seemed a short time to her, but a long time to Sirius she began to calm down. Little by little her noise subsided and eventually gave in to the comfort he provided.

Sirius was only a little more shocked than Aine herself when she reached up and stole his cigarette, taking a long drag as she situated herself more comfortably. It wasn't the needy drag of an addict, but the same languid kind Sirius was accustomed to. He looked down at the coppery red-brown stubble growing shyly into longer strands on her head, to the fuzzy shadow of her eyebrows, to her wet matted eyelashes lowered over distant eyes, to her wet pink mouth, locked around the stub of his cigarette. It was almost like they were kissing, really. He closed his eyes to savor it and said, through the ghost of the ecstasy he felt,, "I have a whole one if you want it."

Aine shook her head and finished, flicking the last little butt away with practiced ease. His voice rumbled deep in his chest where her ear was and sent a chill up her spine—a feeling she had not experienced in what seemed like an eternity. It thrilled him when her fingers clenched slightly and unclenched, her nails distinctly brushing across his chest.

She was worried he would ask her questions but he only said, "So you're friends with Lily now?" She nodded and he continued, "That's good. I'm glad you're not alone anymore. Well, you were never alone really. You always had us on your side."

She looked up at his with an unreadable look on her face and he said sweetly, "Didn't you know? We had our eyes on you the whole time." His sentence trailed of into an indistinct rumble towards the end, as he fixated on her eyes, looking at him truly for the first time. On her face there were still old bruises, new ones too, but her eyes, a different, yellower brown than her hair, had thin dark rims and transfixed him on the spot. She allowed him to stare for a moment before she lowered her face and once more rested it on his warm chest, enjoying the closeness for as long as she could, even though he was really still a stranger to her.

Sirius was thrilled to feel her press her face into him in what he might boldly describe as a nuzzle. Heat rushed through his body and his instinct was to gently tilt her face up again and kiss her deeply and firmly but he forced himself to ignore it. Something told him that would be a very big mistake. Aine didn't seem too friendly in that way. In fact, she was so wary of intimacy that he worried what experiences she might have with it. Once again the image of a large man violently taking advantage of her flashed through his mind and he squeezed his eyes shut to quell it.

After some time he realized not only were they very late for their afternoon classes, but she was contentedly asleep in his arms, the warm breeze ruffling her long stubble. Happily he dozed off too, comfortable with her in his arms. Of course when he awoke she was gone. It was late in the afternoon and he could hear students milling around on the other side of the turret. As he walked around to the entrance hall he was grateful for his reputation; none wondered where he was coming form, clothing rumpled, tie crooked, and hair mussed. Not only that, but he was smiling.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.**

_**Thanks to all who reviewed and listed this story as a 'favorite.' I appreciate it.**_

For a long time after the weeks rolled on an on with little interruption, as the air grew colder and colder and the trees turned and the sky remained a predictable depressing gray. Aine's hair slowly pushed out of her head and her bruises and cuts slowly faded as she grew closer not only to Lily, but also to Sirius and Remus, and somewhat to James and Peter, whom she had less experience with.

Sirius grew more and more infatuated with her as he spent more time with her, though their meetings were still kept strictly impersonal—her choice, not his. Sometimes she disappeared for the weekend, which worried Sirius. When he questioned Lily she told him that Aine was in the library, and then, after he checked there, that he must have missed her. Still, something about the situation felt curiously suspicious to him especially when he asked Aine herself and received the same answers he had from Lily, almost word-for-word.

It was just such a night again. Aine stumbled into the common room very late Sunday night, as she often did after meeting with her probation officer in London for the weekend. The man tasked with looking after her was not mean and not kind, he just was. He asked her searching questions and checked her wand for any stray spells every weeks. On those Sunday mornings she also visited a shrink at the Ministry of Magic who did not ask her any questions. Instead the woman used very deep, slightly rough occlumency on Aine the moment she sat down. It was invasive and painful and left Aine shaken and drained from the struggle. Each week she manage to keep what she wanted to from the woman, but every time she visited she lost a little ground and wondered if the woman's practical ambushes of her betrayed knowledge of what she might be holding back.

The truth was the moment Aine arrived at Hogwarts she began a search for those that had ordered her family tortured and killed. Each moment she searched she slowly inched closer and closer to finding them. So far she had gathered very little information but she had to hide her desire for revenge from the shrink. After all, she had professed to having no such feelings at her parole hearing and was sure that claim was the biggest reason she had received parole. Should they find out she was actively seeking out information she might land back in prison quickly.

Sirius was waiting up for her this particular Sunday night, sitting in front of the fire calmly. His sharp eyes locked on her the moment she walked in the room, watching closely as she almost fell against the wall once the portrait hole closed, exhausted and panting. Her hair had grown into a short, boyish length that drew him in and her eyebrows acted as an added bonus, but as he watched her lovingly, and shrewdly, he grew more and more suspicious. She held her head and clenched her teeth like she had a splitting headache, seeming to gather her wits bout her merely with force of will.

"A bit late to be roaming around the hallways, isn't it Aine?"

Her head snapped up at the sound of his voice. "Oh… Sirius…" Aine straightened and arranged herself, hiding the all-over aching of her body and her splitting headache. Deep beneath her fear of being found out and her need to stay composed and distant from him she was disgusted to find she also deeply wanted to feel him cradle her again, as he had done that faraway summer day. Her weakness for his pale gray eyes and the feel of his hands was something she strove to hide even from herself; she denied it and denied it and was well on the way to convincing herself she had imagined it entirely. But her palms were sweaty at the sight of him and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end when the deep rumble of his voice rolled over her.

"You're up late too." Aine said and looked at an imaginary watch on her wrist. She tried to casually laugh but fell short, sounding too tense to pull it off. "Whew! One thirty in the morning? I gotta get to bed. You should too."

It seemed as though her cavalier attitude had worked and she was almost to the girl's stair when his voice stopped her short. "Where you been, Aine?"

"The library." She cursed herself for answering so quickly. Not only did she sound guilty as hell but…

"The library's closed, Aine."

The tone in which he was saying her name was killing her. He motioned to the chair across from him and watched her carefully as she obediently took her place opposite him. It was clear from the way she sank into the chair that her body was screaming out for her bed. Oh how he'd love to catch a glimpse of her there… soft and asleep.

"Seems to me," he continued, "that if I didn't know better I'd say you're suffering from an unwelcome occlumency assault." She controlled herself well, but he had spent months and months studying her and knew that the way she momentarily narrowed her eyes at him meant he was right on point. The expression was gone almost the moment it arrived but he caught it for sure.

"Look, Sirius…"

"You know, " He leaned over and pulled her chair up to his, putting her suddenly face to face with him, their noses almost touching, knees interlocking. Aine casually leaned back as far as she could into the depths of the great wing-backed chair, heart beating, lips itching for his. Sirius continued, pushing his body forwards in order to purposefully crowd her, "If you don't try to hide memories away in your mind it almost doesn't feel like anything at all—just a gentle tickle, almost erotic. I can show you if you like."

Aine quickly tried to turn away from his prying eyes, but he caught her head in his hands and pulled her face close to his. She continued to struggle away from him but he was strong and she was so tired. Instead she closed her eyes tightly and replied evenly, "I would rather you didn't."

"But it wouldn't be hard at all." Sirius looked her face over, letting his thumb slowly run along a brand-new eyebrow and was pleased to see her eyelid flicker a bit. Little did he know her body was on fire from his careful touch and for a moment she considered opening her eyes up wide and letting him see it all. "You see," he said, "once a person is as tired as you are, body and soul, it's very easy to pull whatever you want out of them, however unwilling."

"Imagine that." Her speech was light and loose but her eyes remained closed firmly. "Now, really Sirius, it's late and we do have class tomm…"

Sirius continued on as if she hadn't said a word. "Of course, in this situation here it would be easy to snatch a great many things from you." Aine frowned a bit in response and he went on, his voice soft like the sound of running water, washing over her, sending a deep shiver through her. "I could take a long look at you, for instance. Steal a glance—or a kiss."

It worked. Her eyes snapped open and found his gray ones waiting for her. Immediately the magic in them pounced and locked her gaze on his, occlumency binding their gazes together. He knew she could supply very little resistance and he easily batted away what felt so much like her hands batting at his face the night he pulled those Slytherin's off of her. "Now Aine, I want you to listen to me."

An image of her sprang up to meet him in the darkness of her subconscious and he got his first look at her from within—the way she thought of herself. A double image presented. On one hand she stood before him more beautiful than he had ever seen her. Her hair was long and brushed so it shone and curled and she glowed, smiling happily at him. Sirius noticed that she was less fit than he knew her—the sinewy muscles and tense posture were gone. In their place he saw a slim young woman who looked like she would be supple to the touch, curves showing beneath a loose, almost transparent t-shirt, long legs showcased beneath skintight jeans.

Next to her was another figure, more like the Aine he had come to know. Through her eyes he saw a version of her current self—gaunt and pathetic in her Hogwarts uniform. She appeared to him taller and more awkward than she truly was, her face still marred by over-sized bruises and cuts, hair missing like it had never been. He posture was not the proud one he had come to expect from her, but stooped and ashamed. She could barely look him in the eye, her hands constantly reaching up to feel her missing hair and her tender injuries gingerly, looking over to the glowing beautiful version of herself with mad hate and jealousy.

They both looked to him, waiting for him to say more. Sirius balked, looking sadly at Aine's version of herself, "I… I won't look into your mind today, but someday I want you to invite me in. I care about you, you know. We don't know each other well but I'd like to change that."

Past Aine smiled winningly at him and Current Aine looked away and spoke with a grimace. "What if you don't like what you find? What then?"

"I won't."

She looked at him, eyes wide with fear and hurt. "You will."

"We'll see. "

"We won't."

"We will. I promise."

"Never," she breathed, looking at him fully for the first time since he arrived. He didn't know what to make of her expression. If he didn't know any better he could have sworn she wore a look of desire…and maybe something softer, deeper. Sirius took a step towards her, his hand unconsciously reaching, wanting to touch her. She watched him with a surprised, open look, like an unsure forest creature, and matched him with a step back. He was distracted and she took advantage of it. "Now GET OUT!"

He was rocketed out of her mind, falling back in his chair. Released, she drooped back as well, passed out from spending remained of her energy to push him from her mind. Sirius sat for a moment, regarding her with a strange expression, before he stood, lifted her from the chair and walked her to her dorm with a well-practiced spell to quell the evil staircase. She felt light in his arms, but she also felt comfortable there. He took the opportunity to hold her firmly, close to him, reveling in the feel of her face leaning on his shoulder, breath floating down the collar of his shirt as she slept deeply.

Careful to make no noise, he laid her gently in the only open bed, assuming it to be hers. He pulled her shoes and socks off and tucked her under the covers, watching as she arranged herself a bit amongst them, looking more open and angelic than he had ever seen her. He had never wanted anything more than he wanted to climb into bed next to her and wrap his long limbs around her.

As he turned to leave he stopped and turned back slowly. Though he considered it a very daring thing to do, he leaned down over her and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead, allowing himself to cup her cheek affectionately as he did so. The small gesture made him feel more emotions than he would ever admit to anyone and when she shifted and muttered sweetly, "Sirius…" he had to leave or risk embarrassing himself.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Thanks for the feedback, guys. I really appreciate it! (And keep it coming!)**_

The next morning the great hall was buzzing with activity, as usual, and Sirius was sitting with the gang, as usual. Remus was reading his paper, Peter seemed to be thinking very deeply about something, and James was staring eagerly at the great doorway. His eyes lit up when Lily and her friends walked in.

Sirius noticed and looked up as well, smiling hopefully as he noticed Aine coming in behind them, sort-of part of the group sort-of not. She looked ragged, as she often did when she came back from her absentee weekends but when her eyes fixated on him he felt a little bit frightened. That was no happy camper striding towards him.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" She said it loudly and suddenly he felt a good portion of the eyes in the great hall fixated on him.

"You seem mad," he said sarcastically. He stood up and tried to usher her quietly out of the hall. He looked to Remus for support but his friend only stared back at him accusingly, his paper forgotten in his hands.

Aine threw him off and yelled, "TELL ME WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF!"

Sirius chuckled in a way he thought was friendly and comforting. Aine found it patronizing. He said in response, "I don't have anyth—"

And Aine decked him so hard he found himself on the floor, propped up against the bench he had been sitting on during breakfast, head spinning. Aine was gone and Remus was looking at him unsympathetically while James tried to suck up to a very angry Lily. Sirius only had one thing to say.

"Well, crap."

Sirius couldn't help but notice that for almost a week he saw neither hide nor tail of Aine. She must have been avoiding him because he went everywhere he could in the hopes of bumping into her but only ever managed to stare burningly at the back of her head during class. At the end of the week he was happy to accidentally walk in upon her relaxing in the common room late at night but was disappointed when, upon seeing him, she got up and walked wordlessly out through the portrait hole. He was puzzled—it was very late to go out exploring the school—but knew it would be a bad idea to follow her.

When Aine left she made sure Sirius would not follow her and then she made a beeline for the Slytherine common room. Lucius Malfoy met her a little ways from the dungeons, creeping creepily from the shadows and surprising her.

" I didn't think you'd come."

She jumped a little but said confidently, "Of course. You have something I want."

"But what do I get for it in return?"

Aine eyed him suspiciously. He claimed to have information about the origins of the Irish gang who killed her family. He had found her searching in the library and gradually worked out her purpose. At first when he approached her she denied his accusations but eventually began to trust his claims. Lucius insisted he could provide information. Though she told him only half-truths in order to obtain the information she sought she suspected he, like Bellatrix, already knew the whole story. Regardless, she didn't trust him at all and always felt very wary around him. There was something about the way he looked her over, standing close and slowly roving around her as they spoke, that frightened her. "What is it that you want exactly?"

"Well I'd frankly like you, darling girl," he hissed, running lecherous fingers up the backs of her arms. Aine moved away immediately. "But as I see that won't happen I will settle for a theft—just a small one."

"From whom?"

` "Oh, don't worry—it will be easy for you. He's in your house, after all."

Aine narrowed her eyes minutely for a moment and then sneered, "Just tell me who and stop your playing. I'm not one of your silly Slytherine minions—I don't hang on your every word."

"That's too bad, my dear." And Lucius slammed her into the wall, pressing himself up against her. His fingers dug into her arms and to her disgust he rubbed up against her suggestively. "Don't think I won't just demand your beautiful self in return for my information. Because I will. And don't think I won't just take what I want if I find you're getting too uppity. I could have you right now, against this wall, and no one would be the wiser. You might have learned some fancy tough girl skills in jail, but I am in the end still stronger and would dearly enjoy the pleasure of beating the crap out of you before I take you."

He leaned close to her ear and whispered, "It would thrill me, truly. It would be my pleasure."

Aine didn't shiver or cower but inside she was frightened. Instead of showing her emotion, though, she looked away and tried to push him off. He allowed her to force him a little ways away before slamming her into the stones like crushing an orange into pavement. Then she couldn't help but make a small sound of pain, which he seemed to enjoy greatly. " That's right, that's right," he groaned softly in her ear, pushing up against her once more. "Cry for me."

"Just tell me what I need to get for you, snake!" Aine managed to free an arm and hooked her thumb under his jawbone, pushing up in a way she knew would be painful. Lucius let out a strangled cry and released her roughly before catching her firmly in the face with the back of his hand. Aine fell heavily to the floor, skinning her knees on the stone and smacking the side of her head.

As Lucius came closer Aine struggled to pull herself up and he let her make some progress before pushing her back down, knocking the air out of her. He crouched down and said, "Listen well, skank. I know your precious secrets so don't try to pull anything on me. To ensure I get at least something I want I'm going to give you this information here," he showed her a folded piece of paper before shoving it roughly into her shirt pocket, palming her breast slightly as he did so, "first. Now either way I get paid or else. You bring me the item I want or you hand yourself over—willing and ready to work for it. Understand?"

"Yes," managed Aine through gritted teeth—partly from pain and partly form burning anger.

"Good. Now don't you dare disappoint me."


	15. Chapter 15

No one saw Aine as she returned to the common room that night, but everyone saw her black eye and split lip the next day. Her skinned legs stood out beneath her skirt and her sullen body language was evident to everyone. If she had been free to use her wand, not to mention touch it, she could have placed a glamour on her injuries and avoided this awkwardness.

"Fell down the stairs," was what she told Lily. Lily looked at her with disbelief but cooed sympathy as though she believed it and they moved on through breakfast.

When Aine was in another class, Lily confided in James and Remus, explaining her concern about her friend's appearance. Later the two boys relayed the conversation to an already concerned Sirius who instantly remembered seeing her leave the common room late the night before. He looked over to where she sat in their current class and found her thinking deeply, pencil down, note taking forgotten. There was something amiss and he was determined to find out what it was.

The day continued on as usual, but Aine was distracted the whole time, racking her brain trying to think of a way to steal what Lucious wanted without using magic. It was near impossible. Every day Sirius wore what she needed on his person. It hung around his neck—she could see the chain flash beneath the collar of his shirt and noted the bulge the locket made beneath the crisp fabric. How could she get close enough to get it? Even if she did, was there anyway he wouldn't notice the theft? The only ways she could think of to get that close were unacceptable. Aine could never make a seduction convincing—her grimaces would give it away.

She felt eyes on her as turned slowly, scanning the room, until she locked gazes with a familiar pair of gray eyes. Embarrassed, she quickly turned away, blushing. What if he could see what she was planning written all over her face?

Sirius frowned. Blushing was not something he had come to expect from Aine. Yes, something was definitely up. He could feel her staring at him as he turned away and had to force himself not to look at her again.

Aine made several attempts on the boy's dormitory throughout the week, all of them failures. It took her several tries to figure out how to beat the staircase and several times some idiot came waltzing by and spooked her.

After four nights of work she made it into the room itself, slipping in quietly. They were all sleeping—some softly, some not-so-softly—some legs hanging out beneath the covers, some with pillows over their heads. In the darkness she could see only blue and gray shapes, amongst which she could make out socks and underwear and indefinable messes strewn across the floor. It was very different from the girl's dorm.

She was shocked to find that Sirius' space was one of the tidiest. _Probably cause he's always having so many guests over. _She smirked almost bitterly to herself and crept over, hoping he had removed the locket to sleep. Unfortunately it was still fastened securely around his neck, the chain pooling across his skin. Would he wake up if she began to take it off? Trying not to think about how much she enjoyed his smell and the way he looked—shirtless and at peace—she reached for the locket slowly. She also maliciously ignored her thrill at having an excuse to touch him again.

Suddenly another boy in the room—she thought she recognized Peter—got up from bed and began to stumble towards the bathroom. She crouched down next to Sirius' bed and stayed as still as she could manage, hoping Peter was still pretty much asleep. After he closed the door she waited till she could hear the water running before hastily leaving. Aine didn't allow herself to breath until she arrived in her own dorm. That wasn't too close, but it was close enough to make her nervous.

* * *

><p>The next day she had potions right before lunch ad as they were leaving the room Lucius called her back. "Aine? Professor Slughorn would like to see you for a moment." He paused and added arrogantly, "Now?"<p>

Lily looked at her questioningly and Aine tried to smile, saying, "Go on. It's probably just something about my wand or whatever." She knew it wasn't, though. She had seen Slughorn leave the moment class was dismissed.

Once everyone was gone Lucius sneered at her nastily, advancing. "I'm getting tired of waiting, jailbait. Where is it already? It was a simple request. I thought it would be easy with your… background."

"I'm working on it," she hissed. "He wears the damn thing every day! What do you suggest I do?"

Lucius chuckled softly and grabbed her neck firmly enough to choke her. Aine wheezed, shocked at the sudden attack, and clawed at his hands as he walked her backwards. When her legs hit one of the long potions desks he roughly hoisted her up onto it by her neck. As she began to feel dizzy he pushed her legs apart and pushed his hips between them. She tried to protest but no sound came out. Her head was beginning to spin.

"I have a suggestion, bitch," he hissed and licked his lips as he pushed her skirt up, exposing her underwear. "Maybe you should use your powers of persuasion. You know…" he ran his fingers up her inner thighs and she paled, "…use your beautiful smooth legs…" he reached up and pinched a nipple rudely, "…your tits. Whatever. Just bring me that goddamn locket this weekend or submit to me."

Aine saw stars and began to pass out. He shook her. "Well, Mudblood? Which will it be, the locket or my beautiful satin sheets?" Her eyes rolled back as she rasped, "Locket…"

He dropped her and she passed out for a moment, in a pile on the desk. Later she woke up in time to make it to Herbology, where she avoided speaking whenever possible to hide her ravaged voice. All she could hope was that the inevitable bruising wouldn't show until she could figure out how to hide it somehow.

Unfortunately, she was assigned both Lily and Sirius as lab partners. As they wrestled with several unruly plants together she could feel their eyes on her. She tried to seem nonchalant as she re-potted the struggling weeds messily, attempting to seem focused on her class work.

Luckily, her two friends were also having some trouble completing the assignment as well and for a time they had no concentration to spare. Once they all finished they had some uncomfortable time to kill before everyone else in the class was also done. Sine suddenly found herself sitting quietly between a brooding Lily and a cautious Sirius.

Lily spoke first, as always, "I hope you went to the hospital wing after your fall last night, Aine. It looks like you could really have gotten hurt." Lily's tone was that of a casually concerned friend, but Aine could feel its probing purpose. Lily was going to try to catch her in a lie.

To avoid using her voice Aine shrugged.

"Sirius, don't you think she should have gone?"

"Yes, Lily, I sure do." Great—he was in on it too.

Aine shrugged again when they looked at her expectantly for an answer.

"Do you want us to take you after class?" Lily put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm afraid I can't but I'm sure Sirius would be willing to accompany you…"

"I would."

"…to make sure you don't fall down anymore of those tricky stairs."

Aine tried to look distracted, frowning at a pot across the room, as she shook her head to decline the offer. The class was wrapping up, the professor ushering them out with parting words of encouragement. Aine breathed in relief and smiled at her friends before grabbing her bag and making a mad dash for the exit.

Lily and Sirius caught up with her quickly, Sirius reaching out to pull her back by the strap of her bag. "Whoa there," said Sirius, "We're going to that hospital wing whether you like it not, pretty lady. Lily smiled at her and kissed Aine on the cheek before running towards her next class.

Aine looked at Sirius once and tried to walk away again, but he caught her firmly by the arms. She couldn't help but gasp as he squeezed the bruises there and Sirius frowned. Without ceremony he roughly pulled her sleeve up, exposing dark bruises.

"Those look almost like hand prints, Aine," he said darkly, frowning at her.

She shrugged.

He shook her. "Goddamn say something!"

"Why are you so mad at me?" When he heard her voice he slowly released her, his mouth hanging open. He sound she made was horribly hoarse—a small gurgled whisper. "Shouldn't you be demanding to know who did this to me—wanting to go kick their ass?" She laughed a little dry laugh and looked up at him, but her smile died when she saw his face.

Sirius wasn't smiling. He was angry at himself for missing her pain, and angry with her for allowing herself to be treated like that. He couldn't even manage to touch her tenderly without violent repercussions. _How dare she._ His eyes narrowed and Aine shrank back a little. In an acid tone he said, "Maybe if you allowed me to act as your friend once in a while I would want to protect you, but I can't say I feel that way when I don't. The fact that you didn't come to us—we had to force it out of you—makes me think worrying over you isn't worth the effort. I'm pretty confident you can take care of whomever did this to you."

"I was just trying to make a joke," she replied testily but sadly. She couldn't admit to herself but secretly she hoped they would find out and do something. _ But it's true. What do they owe me? I've never really acted as a friend would so there's no reason for them to reciprocate. _"But that's fine." _I am alone. _Though she truly hadn't felt that way until that moment.

Sirius balked a little and drew back, not knowing how to feel. Before leaving he leaned down and, though he didn't know why, hissed, "And don't think I don't see the hand marks on your neck as well. You should watch yourself Aine, because there's no one else to do it for you, you've made sure of that."

Then she was alone tin the hallway, frantically trying to figure out how to get that locket away from him.


	16. Chapter 16

**I do not own harry potter.**

Luckily for her, Sirius arrived in the common room late that night, alone and very drunk. He had gone into Hogsmead with the guys feeling as though he needed to get as drunk as he could manage. And he almost managed it. It took him so long to get back to the common room that he sobered up some on the way. James and Remus carried him between them as he blathered on about everything Aine and they looked at each other knowingly.

When they arrived in the common room he insisted on sleeping in front of the fire instead of in his room and they happily left him there, avoiding carrying him up the stairs. He spread himself happily out on the pillows, pulling the convenient common blanket from the back of the couch over himself. As he drifted off he hummed happily to himself, unaware that Aine watched him from the shadows, steeling herself to do what she must.

She had seen them leave earlier in the night and had settled down in the corner to wait for them to get back. She brought firewhisky with her and drank partly to pass the time and partly to build courage. Also, she hoped that if she was drun enough what she planned would feel less real. Hours later the three of them stumbling in the portrait hole, Sirius barely functioning. _Perfect. That will make things much easier. _She tried not to think of how much the room was spinning for her, James and Remus disappeared she waited some time before emerging.

Sirius opened his eyes, still sort of sleeping and saw her coming towards him. She was walking slowly in the pajamas he had longed to see again, her eyes lowered seductively, burning into him. He was certain he was experiencing some sort of crazy alcohol dream but he enjoyed it, knowing he could never hope for such a thing to happen in reality.

"Aine, I'vebeenthinkingofyou," he slurred, struggling to hold his head up.

"Oh?" She took off the button down shirt and dropped it pointedly on the floor.

He gulped. His pupils were huge and black with desire. It had to be a dream. She was acting too much the way he wished she would. "Oh yes. So much."

"And how were you thinking of me? Something like this?" She sat down on the edge of the couch and ran her hands down his chest lightly and squeezed his hip, promising gifts he had yet to receive.

Sirius muffled a soft moan and tilted his head back, wanting to throw her to the floor and tear the rest of her clothing off. Instead, he ran his hands up her arms in return and was pleased to see goose bumps flash over her skin in response. Unlike when Lucious had touched her, when Sirius ran his hands over her she was thrilled to her core, the locket somewhat forgotten. She couldn't tell if the feeling was a product of the firewhisky of not but she didn't care. "Come closer to me," he breathed.

She paused, looking unsure, and he placed two gentle fingers under her chin, urging her to lean closer and closer until their noses almost touched. Between them she could feel their breath mingling as he slid his hand back to rest lovingly beneath her ear. Though she desperately wanted to lean forwards and kiss him, she waited and the tension between them grew and grew until she almost couldn't stand it anymore. Right when she thought she'd have to do it herself or burst she felt his lips move up to meet her own, sliding gently over them before slowly deepening the kiss.

He pulled her down on top of him and she followed willingly, wrapping her arms around his head, fingers buried deep in his hair. They explored each other carefully, lip locked but timid. She pulled him tightly to her and ran her nails own his chest. He felt it through his shirt and moaned into her mouth. The sound made her practically squirm with need—need for what she couldn't be sure of. She felt as though she wanted to eat him, body and soul. She kissed back more fiercely yet.

Sirius sat up sharply and turned them both so she was sitting straddling him, back arched. Firmly, with a fist in her short hair, he tilted her head back and slowly ran his hand down her body, from her neck, between her breasts, and over her thigh, relishing the hard feel of her. When his lips deftly found her neck, sucking on her pulse, she gasped a little and he smiled.

Sirius knew it was a dream. She was reacting to his touch as he sadly knew she never would—every move she made was exactly what he wanted from her. He could never expect her to be so open with him. So he took the opportunity to treat her as he would never have to chance to—passionately but kindly, like she deserved.

Aine felt his teeth graze her skin, sending a feeling she had never felt before rushing all over her. Without warning she began tearing at his clothing, pulling his shirt off roughly before he realized what was going on. He stopped her when she began to take her shirt off as well. She looked at him questioningly.

"Just kiss me Aine. Don't move so fast. We have time."

"Time?" She croaked.

Sirius frowned, not expecting her to be hoarse in his dream, but then he laughed lightheartedly. "Yes. I'm sure I'll have this dream again. I'm surprised I've not had it before."

Deep disappointment settled in her gut. He didn't think she was really there. She tried to be happy about it—it made her job much easier—but she wanted to believe that he could have truly reacted to her in the same way in another situation. In her drunken state she had a harder time controlling her emotions and, though she looked away quickly to hide it, Sirius saw the single tear slip down her cheek.

"Hey, no…" He kissed it away. "Don't. I want you. I do. I just… I know you'll never have me, really. I just want to savor it. Yes? Do that for me?" He stroked her cheek and she didn't reply, only leaned in for another kiss.

His arms tightened around her and they lay down together on the couch, slowly drifting asleep amongst soft kisses and careful touches.


	17. Chapter 17

Aine awoke first, as the first rays of sun crept into the room. At first she was disoriented, vaguely aware of a headache coming on. It occurred to her that she felt trapped somehow and was confused when she found herself gazing at Sirius, asleep and holding her. She touched his face lightly to make sure he was really there and was heartbroken when he smiled in his sleep and turned into her hand. He was so close and so real. It almost felt as though he belonged to her. Then suddenly he events of the night before came rushing back to her.

She gave herself a moment to relish the way he felt, warm and shirtless, pressed against her, the loving way he held her. Then she gently pulled herself away from him, avoiding his grasping hands and praying he didn't awake as she was leaving. Scooping her shirt up off of the floor she turned to escape to the girls dormitory but stopped in mid-stride. The locket. It would only be smart to take it as he still slept and not let all of that work go to waste. She knew lied to herself when she called it work, but she couldn't admit it.

Softly, she crept towards him. He shifted in his sleep, tucking himself into the space she had vacated and she paused, waiting for him to still again. When he did she reached around his neck gingerly, obsessively _not_ thinking of the way his skin felt sliding over hers. Her fingers shook, much to her chagrin, and she had distinct difficulty with the latch. Finally it came free and slipped from his neck.

As she watched it pool in her palm she looked to him, his neck bare, and felt guilty. Why did he wear it every day—did it have some personal meaning? And why did the Snake want it so much? She frowned and fastened it around her own neck. The chain was still warm from his skin. Smiling slightly she lovingly pulled the blanket up over him before turning away.

But he reached out and grabbed her arm, awakened as the blanket tickled his face. "Aine?" His voice was still thick with sleep. She was startled but though she still had a chance.

"Go back to sleep," she tried to coo. It didn't sound right, coming from her.

"…Aine?" She could see the wheels in his brain slowly beginning to turn. She had to get away. "But… wait…" He was beginning to sound suspicious. Aine tried to move away again but he pulled her back more forcefully than he had before. "Wait a second." It seemed as though he was accusing her of something he couldn't quite figure out himself; it was in his tone and his expression as he frowned, trying to remember.

Her heart sank as his eyes lit up and then narrowed. "That wasn't dream?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He pulled her closer and forced her chin up roughly. Amongst her other bruises he found a love bite on her neck, fresh and lewd. He stared at it, not knowing what to say until his eyes rested on the chain around her neck. Slowly he pulled the locket from her shirt and she closed her eyes tightly with shame. He stared at it for a moment before saying softly. "So. You used me."

"Let me explain…"

"I don't know how you could explain this away. What, did you like the look of it so much? I don't understand…"

His quiet whisper was killing her. She would tell him everything—anything—just to make him feel better. His pain was suddenly her pain. "NO! Let me explain…"

"No. I can't… believe…" He closed his eyes, clearly hurt. "How dare you even pretend to befriend us? We trusted you… loved you… and this?"

"Don't tell them!" Her ruined voice sounded terrible and desperate, hoarse and breaking on every syllable.

"Aine, I have to." He seemed shell shocked. Not angry, just so deeply disappointed.

"No, please!" She was kneeling next to him, clutching his arm. He still held her firmly, though he didn't have to force her to stay anymore. "Last night…"

"I can't believe you did that. To pretend to be so frightened and then be so easy… disgusting." His face was twisted in a grimace as he said it.

"No…no…" Tears were running down her face in earnest and she clutched at his shirt desperately. "Please listen."

He didn't seem to be able to tear his eyes away from the locket in his hand. "Just tell me," he closed his eyes, "how did you know? How could you know what I wanted so perfectly?" His voice broke a little as he said it and Aine hung her head in sorrow, hating herself.

"Please just listen to me…give me a chance to explain…."

"I don't know if there's anything you can say, Aine."

"Then look into me—I'll let you see anything you like."

Sirius looked at her sharply, with disbelief written all over his face. "What did you say?'

"I'll open up my mind to you—look as much as you want—but please give me a chance."

He paused, looked beck to the locket and then to her again. Without letting go of her he stood ad began to walk over to the boy's staircase with purpose. She said nothing when he picked her up and carried her up the stairs to avoid their curse. Sirius set her down at the top and dragged her into the room, pushing her onto his bed before following and pulling the drapes tightly around them.

Aine shivered as the darkness engulfed them. She understood—soon people would be waking up to go to breakfast and it might take sometime for him to delve so deeply into her memories. A small ball of yellow light ignited from the tip of Sirius' wand and floated up to hang just above their heads. He looked more severe than she had ever seen him and she felt a little frightened and very sad, especially when he addressed her coldly.

"Okay, so how should we do this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well how far back am I allowed to go?" He addressed her as though she was a stranger.

Aine closed her eyes, shut tight against her decision. "As far as you like." She opened them in time to catch an edge of a soft look from him. So all was not lost yet. _Thank you, thank you._

Sirius could only feel confused and betrayed, but somehow his deceitful mind crept back determinately to the events of the night. Flashes of a passionate loving Aine slipped before his mind, out of order but wonderful. He was hoping there was truly more to what had happened than it seemed; after all, he longed to believe her, pull her into his arms and forgive her for as long as she allowed. Her voice, sounding like fabric ripping apart, broke his concentration.

She was tentative. "Will… will it hurt?" Sirius' eyes softened as he realized how frightened she was.

"No," he replied gently, "I am very careful, I promise."

Aine paused for a moment and then replied, "But it usually hurts very much. How will this time be different?"

Sirius sounded angry. "It only hurts when you're being forced. Who has been practicing occulomency on you so carelessly?"

"Aren't you about to find out?"

Sirius nodded and paused, seeming to gather himself. He lay back on the bed, pulling her down with him. He directed her and they arranged themselves lying on their sides, facing each other, heads comfortably resting on pillows. Without thinking, it seemed, Sirius ran his hand smoothly over her soft puppy hair and was satisfied to see her eyes droop as though they dearly wanted to close and enjoy his touch in earnest. She looked at him with a feeling he had never before seen in her eyes.

He might have missed her words if he had not been watching her, they were so soft, "I trust you."

"Good. That will help."

"Will you hate me after this is done?"

"I am sure you've done nothing to warrant my hate."

"Wait until after to say that."

"Are you ready?" He slid a hand up to cup her face and neck and with his other took her hand in what he hoped was a reassuring grip.

"Yes." She looked into his eyes and he slipped into her mind as easily as breathing.


End file.
