Harry Potter and the Daoine Sìth

Chapter is now beta'd by the brilliant smirking_muse

I shall attempt to update this story once a week on Sundays.

Again thank you to lazycrazykitten for the inspiration.

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Chapter One:

Early morning, Saturday 29, April 1996…

Severus Snape stalked through the Forbidden Forest. His travelling pack fitted tightly against his back, dapples of sunlight dotted the ground through the dark canopy, and birdsongs echoed sweetly along the darkening path. Snape paid no heed to any of it.

He was on a mission. He had less than two days to hike to the Camhanaich Bárd .*1 It was a long trek through the dark wood, but he needed to arrive at his destination before midnight the following day. He carried a glass vile containing a very important potion in his satchel, wrapped in soft wool. The potion needed just one more crucial thing to guarantee its success: the blessing of the faery queen at the height of Beltane. He had high hopes that Gyre-Carlin*2 would grant his request.

The dark-haired professor strode confidently and was not hindered by the wildlife around him. The magic he radiated scared away the lesser creatures, and the dark creatures were not a problem as they seldom wandered in the daylight hours. The centaurs had been much easier to deal with in recent years. The changes in the wizarding world had given them peace at last, and they no longer pestered wizards in the forest.

He hiked for several miles before the uneasiness crept up on him. He was positive that he was being followed. The question was who or what was keeping a careful pace with him. After the next bend in the path, Severus quickly but quietly stepped into the darkness of the bushes just off the main trail. There he waited. The hairs prickled at the back of his neck as he heard the approaching, not so stealthy footfalls. A hooded figure passed and then stopped in confusion. Severus watched as the person turned to look in the opposite direction. Then they turned to face Severus, and he was able to glimpse who was under the hood. Anger flared in his chest.

“DRACO MALFOY, you idiot boy!” he snarled, stepping back onto the path. The young man jumped back, frightened by his professor’s sudden appearance. The boy had the good sense to cringe guiltily when he recognised the angry man.

“I instructed you to remain at Hogwarts, you foolish child!” Severus stormed up to the boy, and grabbing his arms, he shook him none too gently. “This is no Sunday stroll down the lane, Draco. I have no time for your antics.” Faced with Severus' wrath, the boy paled considerably as his hood slipped off to reveal his white-blond hair.

“I want to help!” he yelped.

“Helping would have been doing as I said, NOT disobeying me!” Snape looked toward the sky and let out a huge sigh. He did not have time for this. It was several hours walk back to the safety of Hogwarts. He could not let the boy return on his own, and he could not afford to take him back himself. Snarling, Severus mumbled a few choice curses under his breath as his fingers dug into the boy's arm.

“Please, Severus, let me come?” Draco pleaded. “I’ve assisted with the potion up until now. Please… I only want to – to see its completion,” he stammered.

“You only want to see the faeries, Draco,” Snape snapped. “Do not endeavour to lie to me.” Severus glared icily at the young man. He had known Draco all of the young man's life. Curiosity was the boy's downfall time and time again. Nevertheless, it was also one of his strengths. It was, in fact, his curiosity that made him so talented at potions. Severus could not fault Draco's desire to see the Daoine Sìth. They were legendary and rarely seen by wizards. The simple nymphs that lit wizarding Christmas trees were not the faeries of the old tales. They were mere sprites. The Daoine Sìth, however, were the true faeries. Their magic was unimaginable. They could be both kind and spiteful, depending on their mood. A wizard had to keep his wits about him, when confronting the Sìth.

Truth to be told, Severus was nervous about approaching them himself. Perhaps the boy's company would provide an alternate focus and allay some of his current worries. Besides, the Sìth often favoured young humans. The boy may have some use after all. It mattered not, since Snape really had no choice but to allow the boy to tag along.

Heaving one last heavy sigh, Snape pushed the boy away. “I do not have any choice now, but to allow you come along. Too much time would be wasted if I took you back, you foolish, impudent boy! You will keep up and not slow me down or hinder me in any way, or so help me, Draco Malfoy, I will leave you behind.”

Draco grinned eagerly. “I promise, Severus, I'll be good!” he said cheerfully.

“And no talking!” Snape barked. “I've had enough of your fallacious banter in the past three days to last me the rest of the year.” Draco nodded his head solemnly and made the motion of buttoning his lip.

“Reckless child!” Snape groused as he turned and stalked off to follow the path. Draco traipsed happily after him.

As they continued further into the wood, the light faded to give the impression of dusk despite that it was just before noon. They walked for another half an hour before they reached a small clearing. In the middle of the clearing, a marble obelisk jutted out in sharp contrast to the dark-dead leaves on the ground. Draco immediately recognised the place and approached the monument. He read the words aloud…

“Here in the early morning of the Twenty-Seventh of May, in the year Nineteen-hundred and Ninety-two, Harry James Potter defeated the Dark Wizard Voldemort for the last time. Our hearts travel with Harry, wherever he may be.”

Draco turned toward the older wizard, his face sombre. “Do you suppose Potter’s still alive, Severus?”

Snape paused, remembering that night with clarity. His Dark Mark had burned unlike ever before. The pain was like a ten-fold, magnified Cruciatus curse. He had believed he would die, but then, just as suddenly as the pain had flared, it ended. That must have been the moment that Potter had killed the Dark Lord. No one knew how the boy had done it or why he had disappeared, but the Headmaster was certain the child had survived, and the record books at Hogwarts agreed. His name was still on the roster, and each year, his letter was sent out only to return, undelivered.

The Dark Mark on Snape’s left arm had since faded until it was barely perceptible. As had Lucius Malfoy's and all other living Death Eaters. It was proof that the Dark Lord was well and truly gone forever, defeated by a child of no more than eleven.

The night the Dark Lord perished was the greatest of Severus Snape's life. Once the pain had ended and his wits were about him, a sense of overwhelming relief had washed through his body.

He was free.

Free from slavery to the Dark Lord. He could finally live a life unencumbered by darkness and fear. And he had to a certain degree. While not exactly happy, he was no longer as bitter a man as he had been. Oh, he was still a snarky, nasty bastard, but it was better tempered now. He remained the feared Potion's Master at Hogwarts, but he was now able to finally pursue other interests, to live unfettered and unbound.

The Malfoys had been freed as well. The happy boy that had followed him into the wood this morning was a shining example of a life no longer tainted by darkness. The Malfoys were the primary reason for this sojourn into the Forbidden Forest. Narcissa Malfoy wanted to give her son a brother or sister. She and Lucius had been trying nearly four years without success. Snape had discovered that the long-bourn Dark Mark was preventing conception. The precious potion he carried with him was the best hope left to the Malfoy family.

So many lives had changed for the better on that fateful night.

Severus felt sorry that the boy-hero had not returned after his victory. He would have liked to thank him, a bitter pill though that might be. Severus Snape owed his freedom to a Potter. He grimaced at the thought.

“Severus…” Draco interrupted.

Momentarily startled, Severus blinked down at the stone before looking back toward the youth beside him. “The Headmaster believes strongly that the boy still lives,” he answered. “I am hopeful he is correct in that estimation.”

“Where do you believe he is then?” the boy quizzed.

“I don't know, Draco. I do know that his name still appears on the Hogwarts roster and that Gringott’s confirms, somehow, that he is not deceased. We can only hope that one day, he will return.” Severus said solemnly. “I would like to thank him,” he voiced aloud his earlier thought.

Draco nodded, evidently in agreement with the Potion’s master.

Silently, they left the clearing and entered the darkness again. They walked for several more miles that day, stopping only for a bit of tack and water. They didn’t converse much, since each seemed lost in his own thoughts. When dusk approached, Severus stopped at a small opening in the tangled brush by a stream.

“We'll rest here for the night,” he said seriously as he removed the heavy pack from his shoulders. “Start a small fire, while I set up the tent, Draco. Then we shall both set the wards for the night.” Draco did as he was told. Without a word, he gathered dead logs from the undergrowth, arranging them in front of the tent Severus had produced from his bottomless pack. A simple Incendio charm and the fire began to warm the surrounding area. The two wizards then set about establishing the wards that would protect their small home for the night. Severus taught Draco the strongest wards used to fend off the dark creatures that roamed and slithered in these woods.

As the sun set, the forest grew colder and blacker. They sat together before the fire and ate a simple supper of bread, cold ham and cheese. Snape watched as the boy's eyes darted towards every noise issued from the depths of the forest. The boy wanted an adventure, and now he had one. There were fouler things than wolves in these trees. Nevertheless, the wards would protect them for the night— of that, Severus Snape was sure. As they sat eating the cold meal and drinking their pumpkin juice, Severus relaxed enough that Draco must have felt he could speak freely…

“Professor, do you believe the Gravid Fortuna will work?” he asked timidly.

Snape stared into the fire contemplatively. “If the Queen blesses the potion, then yes, Draco, I believe you will have the little sister you so desperately desire.”

The boy's face sparkled momentarily with happiness. “That would be brilliant, though I know for a fact that father wishes for another boy. Mother and I want a girl.”

“Yes, so you've told me,” Snape mused, a slight grin pulling at the corners of his mouth, “again and again and again. I've heard of nothing else for the past two weeks, Draco. I hope you will be so content when the babe is keeping you up nights screeching or when she spews sour-milk all over your brand new robes.” Draco snorted in amusement.

“It would be well worth a few ruined robes to have a baby sister, Severus.”

“So you say now, Draco. We shall see.” Severus rose from the ground, dousing the flames with his wand. “Come. We best sleep while we can. We've a long road yet that will require an early start.”

~~~~~~

The two wizards had travelled far by mid-day. Severus was sure they would make Camhanaich Bárd by late afternoon. The path was hard, thick with brush and spiny bramble. Despite the early spring chill, they both were dewed with sweat. Draco was just ahead of Snape when the boy stopped short unexpectedly. His eyes fixed on an old frayed bit of cloth tangled in the undergrowth.

“Severus,” he said, his voice quivering.

“Blessed be, Draco!” Snape scowled as he crashed into the back of the youth.

Draco pulled at the tattered cloth until it came free and shoved it into Snape's face. The professor took it, growling his dissatisfaction. The remnant was weather faded and worn, but the cloth bore the unmistakable symbol of Gryffindor House. Severus' eyes narrowed as he examined it. Draco gasped again before he bent over and plucked something off the ground. As the youth turned back toward Snape, the man noted the child's face was pale and his eyes wide. Draco held up a small pair of shattered, rounded spectacles. Snape felt his heart quicken as the glasses were gently deposited in his out-stretched palm. He had seen glasses like this before.

“Potter,” he whispered. Could it be that this tattered bit of cloth and broken glass and metal had come from Harry? Snape could not fathom how the small, waif-like boy could have made it alone this far into the forest. The path was untraveled and the wood thick with unimaginable terrors. There were no signs of anyone having come this route before, though. Could it be Potter's? Severus shook his head. He had no time for this. He glanced up at Draco.

“Keep moving, Draco,” he said calmly.

“But…” the boy began to protest. Severus held up his hand.

“I agreed to let you go with me on the condition that you not impede my progress, Draco. We must keep moving. We will take these back to Hogwarts.” He tucked the broken glasses and bit of cloth into his cloak pocket. “Move along now,” he demanded, in a tone that allowed for no arguments.

They pushed on as uneasiness settled over them, each, no doubt, thinking of the young, dark-haired boy who had disappeared so long ago.

As the sun began to wane in the sky and the air to chill once more, they broke through the trees of the Forbidden Forest. There before them lay the Camhanaich Bárd. The great old Hawthorn rising from the middle of the lush green meadow, the very top of the tree lit like a flame with the last rays of the setting sun.

Snape turned to the boy. “Do not speak unless spoken to. One does not play with the Daoine Sìth. They are notoriously finicky and vengeful. Mind me, Draco,” Snape said gravely. “This is not a game. If we fail, we could lose more than just your chance for a sibling.” Draco nodded, his eyes darting all around the clearing, searching for evidence of the legendary Sìth.

Severus set down his pack. Opening it, he took out an ornately carved wooden box. Reverently, he approached the ancient hawthorn and knelt before it, the young man following him. From within the box he produced several items; first he brought forth and laid boughs of soft scented pine and made a bed of them upon the ground. He then carefully laid on the scented bed a large, intricately carved, and recently polished amulet of Connemara marble. Beside the marble he set a moonstone that was immaculate, as large as his fist, rare, and quite valuable. He then took from the box ripe oranges and tart lemons, figs and persimmons, arranging them around the boughs. One large, flawless sapphire stone and one equally large and flawless emerald stone were then placed upon the pine. Finally, he carefully placed one perfect white rose in the centre of the grouping. Snape noted that Draco recognised the flower from the Malfoy gardens. Narcissa had cultivated it herself, cared and perfected this one bloom. She then preserved it magically as her personal offering to the faery queen.

Snape stood and brushed off his robes. He pulled out his wand and cast a cleansing charm over himself and Draco, and then, flicking his wand once more, he caused the wrinkles to disappear from both their clothes. Draco stared nervously into his Professor's face. Snape answered the unspoken question softly.

“Now, we wait.”

~~~~~~

And wait, they did.

Draco stood beside his Professor and waited and waited and waited. It seemed days long. His stomach rumbling and his feet throbbing, he began to fidget. He could not help himself. Snape reached out and grasped his wrist, squeezing it in reprimand. Draco huffed. How long must they wait? The sun had set and the clearing was dark. The only light piercing the sky was from the bright stars above them. It was getting cold. He was hungry. His feet hurt. His nose itched. He was just about to open his mouth and complain whole-heartedly when the air crackled around them with invisible energy. Magic!

There was magic on the wind. Drifting, it came down from the branches of the great, old hawthorn above them. The branches vibrated with it. They glowed. Draco was in awe. The intensity of this magic nearly overwhelmed him, and he stood rooted to the damp grass. Delicate voices and dainty bodies flitted down from the tree. As one, the winged beings rushed about the two wizards, surrounding them in a glowing circle. Tiny wings brushed against their skin, soft voices laughed and giggled, and Draco swore he heard one sweet voice whisper into his ear, “Hullo, Draco.”

Just as suddenly as the storm of wings had surrounded them, they retreated, flitting in and out of the branches above their heads. One of the wee folks hovered over the offering Snape had carefully laid, as though inspecting it before it zipped back to the top of the tree.

Moments later, a bright light flashed before the two wizards. Draco was temporarily blinded with black spots; he turned and saw Severus’ gaze was unwavering, though Draco’s eyes blinked desperately to clear his vision. The older wizard bowed his head and knelt down upon the grass, dragging Draco to his knees by the wrist he still firmly held. Clumsily, Draco sank, nearly falling over. A faery that was still hovering near him giggled at his folly. Draco scowled, but as he turned back to face the tree, he realised immediately why his professor had knelt.

There before them, the faery queen of Scotland, Gyre-Carlin. She was even lovelier than Draco had dared to imagine. She shone in the darkness, lighting the field before her. She was beauty incarnate. Her dress was made of dew hung spider silk, nearly translucent. In her flowing, chestnut hair, a daisy chain glistened as if made from the finest jewels. Upon her face rested a delicate smile. She stepped toward them, and her voice was like music as she greeted them.

“Ceud Mìle Fàilte, *2 Dark and Light,” she said, spreading her arms, “you come before the Great Tree. Your offering is set before you. Tell me what it is you wish from me?”

Severus looked up. Draco was sure his voice quivered as he answered. “Great Queen of the Scottish highland, we come seeking a blessing on this the eve of the Beltane, the night of renewal and rejoicing. We come most humbly to ask the queen of the Peaceful People to share her power with one who desperately seeks a child.” Snape lowered his head, and Draco followed suit.

Draco heard a rustling at his ear. Delicate wings brushed against his cheek once more as dainty feet alighted upon his shoulder. Draco dared not turn his head to look. The queen's tinkling laughter filled the air.

“Your young one, Professor Snape, has the interest of my dear dalta.”

Snape's head jerked up, shock etched onto his face. “You know my name?” he gasped.

“Aye, I know many things,” she said mischievously. “But it is not to me you are known, Dark one. It is from the words of my beloved dalta that I know your calling.” She nodded her head toward Draco where the tiny faery had chosen to stand upon his shoulder. “Dubhsìth *4 appears to be enamoured with the young one you brought with you.” Her laughter rang in the air as the tiny one flew off her perch and buzzed about the queen's crown angrily, before flitting back and sitting on Draco's shoulder with a barely perceptible “harrumph.”

The sound of a multitude of tiny voices laughing vibrated all around the two wizards. Draco chanced to turn his head and look at the small being sitting petulantly by his ear. Except for the dark-hair, Draco could barely make out the tiny features through the creature’s ambient glow. The faery had her arms folded across her chest and her legs crossed, one foot bouncing up and down with annoyance. Clearly, the little one was pouting. Draco couldn't help but snicker; the faery gave him an indignant look before turning her head away with a second “harrumph.”

Snape, meanwhile, was dumbstruck. His eyes focused on Gyre-Carlin. She stepped closer and knelt down. She looked over the offering, the gentle smile never leaving her dainty mouth. Reaching down, she picked up the one perfect rose, bringing it to her nose.

“Tell me why I should grant this blessing?” she asked. Snape began to answer before she held up her hand to stop him. “Not you, Dark one; I would like Draco Malfoy to answer. Before you ask, yes, he is known to me also. It was foretold that you both would be coming to us this night.” She gave them both an amused glance before focusing her attention on Draco. “So, come now, Beathan, tell me about this little sister you so desperately desire?”

Draco gasped as his eyes locked with Gyre-Carlin's periwinkle-coloured orbs. He felt her enter his mind and could not stop her as she bore into his thoughts, into his soul. He could feel her presence laying bare all his deepest, darkest desires. The intrusion should have frightened him, but it didn't. It was as though the queen was caressing him, loving him. He felt weightless and timeless, as though bathing in cooling waters. After several moments, Draco felt the queen gently pull away. He nearly sobbed when her presence left him.

Gyre-Carlin gave a sigh of contentment. “I am inclined to give you what you seek this night, Dark one.” she said cryptically, her attention focusing on Snape. The queen stood then and glanced over to the faery still sitting upon Draco. “Show yourself, Dubhsìth. It is not polite to keep our guests wondering.”

The small faery stood then and flew off toward the queen. The creature hovered in the air for just a moment before there was another, dimmer, flash of light. This time Draco closed his eyes. When he opened them next, the person he saw stole his breath away.

It was not a girl faery at all! By Merlin, Draco was enraptured! A delicate, beautiful boy stood beside the queen, as naked as the day he was born.

Draco licked his lips as he drank in the vision in front of him. The boy-faery was ethereal in his beauty. He did not glow as intensely as the queen did, but shimmered slightly with an amber hue. His skin was completely unblemished and creamy white. The hair surrounding his heart-shaped face was as black as pitch and stuck out at odd angles. The pellucid wings, which framed his androgynous body, were coloured with iridescent greens, browns, and creams; they were delicate and other-worldly. Draco allowed his eyes to wander over the boy. His body was lithe and without any discernable body hair. A slender waist led to delicate hips. His pink, delicious-looking cock nestled flaccidly against his darker rosy-pink, hairless balls. The boy had slender legs with slightly knobby knees, delicate fingers and arms, dusky nipples, flat belly, and a long, graceful neck. Draco looked up into the face of the beautiful boy. He possessed kissable, ruby lips beneath a dainty upturned nose, and his ears were tiny and slightly pointed. His striking eyes were large and expressive, and as green as the grass in the meadow, they were framed by long, thick, curling, black lashes and elegantly arched brows. Draco's eyes drifted up further to the faery-boy's forehead to see a small, lightning bolt scar…

Draco gasped as Snape rasped. “Harry Potter!”

The queen turned to the boy. “Clothe yourself, Dubhsìth! This is not polite,” she chastised light-heartedly.

With the back of his free hand, Draco wiped the drool that had dibbled down his chin.

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footnotes:

*1 Camhanaich Bárd pronounced Coam-han-a-eesh bah-ard means twilight(dawn) meadow.
*2 Gyre-Carlin pronounced Gay Car-a-leen. T’is the name of the fae queen of the Scots highland.
*3 Ceud Mìle Fàilte pronounced kee-ut meeluh fal-tchuh means a hundred thousand welcomes and old Gaelic greeting
*4 Dubhsìth pronounced Doov-hee means Black one of Peace old Scottish name and Harry’s fae name in this fiction. Though he will mostly be referred to as Harry