Harry Potter and the Daoine Sìth

Author note: Final Beta'd chapter.

To those who have read and reviewed... bless your little hearts! Your encouragement means allot to me. I like this fic and where it's going and I hope you all do to.

The beta for this fiction is smirking_muse.

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Chapter Two:


“Oops,” Harry giggled. With a wave of his hand gossamer spider-silk trousers covered his nudity. “Sorry, mamaí,” he mumbled, looking sheepish. “I always forget that.” Gyre-Carlin smiled indulgently, opening her arms to the boy. Snape and Draco watched as Harry rushed to her. The two faeries embraced warmly with familial tenderness.

“No matter, Harry,” she said, kissing his forehead, “Come, now, let's show our guests how the Sìth celebrate the Oidhche*1 Bealltainn!” Harry bristled excitedly and skipped toward the two wizards. He grabbed hold of one of their hands each, pulling them to their feet.

“Come on,” he shouted, “Come on, follow me!”

Severus made to protest, but Harry's exuberance won him over and off they went. Harry dragged Snape and Draco past the old Hawthorn tree to the field beyond. They could see the bonfires set up there, waiting to be lit. The other faeries were busy preparing the celebration. Some of them were in their larger form, setting up a feast of food and drink. Daisy chains were showering to the ground amidst magic sparks from smaller faeries in the air. Neither Snape nor Draco had ever seen the like.

Harry pulled them through the crowd to follow the faery queen. He turned to smile brilliantly at them now and then. His jubilance was so infectious that even Snape found himself smiling in delight— until he realised what he was doing and firmly put a scowl back in place.

There were things that needed to be discussed. The boy that had been missing, now found, had a world awaiting his arrival. Severus was not about to let this be forgotten. He would need to have a long, hard discussion with Gyre-Carlin and Mister Potter. For now, though, he allowed himself to be led by the joyful faery-boy.

They walked through the throng of Sìth to the centre of a bonfire ring where the largest were assembled to await the lighting time. Just in front of them lay a blanket of flowers where the faery queen stopped to settle herself. Her shimmering dress was strewn elegantly around her. She motioned for Harry to bring himself and their guests up to join her. Snape was awed once again. He was going to share in the celebration side by side with Gyre-Carlin. In his wildest fantasies, he could never have imagined such an honour as this.

Harry bounded forward, pulling along his two erstwhile companions.

“Sit with me,” Carlin said to Severus, patting the place beside her. “Don't be shy now.”

Harry let go of his hand and gently shoved the man forward. “Go on,” he said with a wink, “She likes you, Professor.” Snape scowled at the boy before moving to settle himself stiffly beside the beautiful woman.

“There. See, not so difficult, Dark one.” Carlin looked at Snape. “I must say you have kept me waiting…”

“Whatever do you mean?” Snape interrupted.

“Ah,” Carlin responded, “that is a long tale best left for later.” Her eyes were alight with mischief, causing Snape no small amount of unease. A mischievous faery was never a good thing.

She turned her attention towards the two boys. Harry was attempting to convince Draco to join him on the far edge of the flower blanket. Draco, apparently, felt that he had not been invited and was refusing to cooperate. The two adults looked at one another, sharing amused looks. Harry, meanwhile, appeared to be getting annoyed. Carlin settled the matter instantly.

“Draco Malfoy! Sit with Harry, you silly wizard! Have you not yet realised who he is?” Draco nervously shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, glancing at Harry in confusion. The queen turned toward Severus. “Does the boy truly not realise he's insulting my son?”

Draco paled at the words. He dropped down inelegantly on the edge of the carpet, stunned. Harry smiled goofily and flopped down beside him. “'Bout time,” he muttered.

Snape nearly laughed at the graceless act but held his tongue; instead, he turned to the queen. “Son?” he asked, one dark eyebrow arching. She merely nodded.

“Am I to receive any explanation at all?” he said, crossing his arms over his chest petulantly.

Carlin smirked at the Potion’s Master. “Oh, Dark one, fear not. You shall, you shall. For now, I believe we'll let the two boys enjoy the celebration.” Snape nearly balked, but her eyes told him that he would indeed be getting all his answers if he was patient.

~~~~~~

Draco swallowed nervously. His eyes tried to take in all they could. He felt completely out of place, yet so much at home, with Harry. He turned to watch the pretty boy settle himself amongst the flowers. Harry was so relaxed, lounging like a prince upon his throne. Draco could hardly believe that this petite, elegant faery was the same clumsy, awkward boy he had met all those years ago.

Harry's eyes never moved away from Draco, making him all that much more jittery. The silence loomed between the two, but Potter seemed not to care in the least. Eventually, a pretty, dark-haired girl-faery approached the two youths, interrupting the uncomfortable stillness. She carried a tray of refreshments and smiled broadly at the two boys, “Bràthair*2, dandelion wine for you and your companion?”

Harry stood and took her tray, setting it down on the blanket, “Join us, Sorcha*3,” he told her with a soft smile. Draco stood to greet the new faery.

“I shall introduce you,” Harry said calmly, “Draco, this is my siúr*4, er… my sister, Sorcha. Sorcha, this is Draco Malfoy. I knew him from before, but we didn't like each other then.” Harry frowned slightly at the memory, but the other two ignored the awkward last comment. The girl extended her hand, and Draco grasped it.

“Draco Malfoy. We knew you were coming,” she said with a glint in her blue eyes.

“So I heard,” Draco mumbled in response before catching himself. “It's nice to meet you, Sorcha,” he said formally, bowing slightly.

The faeries both giggled. “So formal, Doov, how ever shall you stand him!” Harry gave his sister a dark look. “Don't worry, little bràthair, I won't embarrass you tonight,” she snickered slightly, “Not much anyway.” Harry pouted more. By the gods, Draco wanted nothing more then to kiss that pout away. The boy had no idea about the effect he was having on Draco.

The three sat as Harry handed each a cup of wine. Draco sniffed at it indifferently. He'd never had a wine made from flowers before. Harry laughed, “It’s not poison, Malfoy.” He took a sip from his own glass. “It's really good, trust me.” Oddly enough, Draco did trust Harry.

~~~~~~

Carlin leaned close to Snape's ear, making the dark man slightly uncomfortable. “That one is Sorcha,” she whispered, pointing to the young girl who had joined Harry and Draco, “my daughter and Harry's sister.”

Snape's eyes narrowed as he watched the female faery sitting with Draco and Harry. “Do they not look alike?”

In truth, they did look startlingly similar. The girl possessed the same pitch-black hair with a mind of its own, though somewhat tamer than Harry's unruly mop. They had the same heart-shaped face, and even their builds were similar. Regardless, Harry still had Lilly's eyes, nose, and high cheek bones. The girl, Sorcha, had familiar hazel eyes Snape could not place, but her nose was Carlin's. Nevertheless, their mouths were very similar- Harry's slightly more expressive, but alike none the same. As he carefully observed the two fae, they turned toward him and Carlin to smile. Severus' eyes widened in surprise – by the gods, they did look like siblings!

Snape turned to the queen, “How?”

She laughed and handed Snape a cup of wine from the nearby attendant. “Of course, Sorcha's father is James Potter, Dark one,” she stated as though it was common knowledge. Snape nearly dropped his cup and would have fainted, would it not have been undignified.

“I suppose you are going to tell me that this, once again, is a long tale that will have to wait?” Snape snarled at the queen. He was incensed. The girl looked to be no older than the two boys. James Potter had been unfaithful to Lilly! Severus had been friends with Lilly, and in truth, he had loved her. Potter had stolen her away from him! That bastard had taken the only woman he had truly ever loved, and then, he had the audacity to slip off and have an affair with Gyre-Carlin! Severus was furious. The queen laid her hand upon his arm, rubbing it soothingly.

“Calm yourself, Professor; I know what you are assuming…”

“Get out of my head,” he hissed, taking a large swig from the wine.

“…Sorcha was born four years before Harry, Severus,” she continued as though he had not interrupted her. “She was conceived at the end of James' fifth year.” Snape drew a ragged, calming breath. That, at least, was comforting. “James had no idea he had a daughter. Actually, I would venture to say he believed our encounter a dream.”

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked.

“Oh, we need something to pass the time,” she said, casually waving her hand. Carlin leaned back, lounging on one elbow. “Come! Relax, eat, and drink with me, Severus, and perhaps I shall tell you the tale.” Snape glowered, but he really wanted to stand up and rage. James Potter not only took Lilly's love, but he had also been with the beauty beside him. His jealousy of James flared anew. Potter had always had all the luck. And Snape had hated him for it. “Severus…” Carlin's melodic voice interrupted his morose thoughts, “Come and eat with me.” She handed him a plate of food and filled his cup with wine.

Snape took another long draught from the glass, before looking into Carlin's eyes. The woman was well and truly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Her presence had a soothing effect on him, something even Lilly had never managed. She smiled affectionately at him, and he found himself leaning back on the ground, lounging! Bewitched! That was what he was. Bewitched by the Faery Queen of Scots! By Merlin, this was becoming a strange and wondrous journey.

~~~~~~

“I suppose mamaí is telling your Professor Snape about us, Doov,” Sorcha said. Draco looked confused as the two faeries turned and smiled broadly at the two adults. They both laughed madly as Snape's face paled, and he nearly dropped his drink. “Well, I must be off,” she said, standing. “Do try and dance tonight, Harry. And don't scowl so.”

“I hate dancing!” Harry replied as she disappeared into the crowd.

Harry huffed and flopped down on his back, wings spread out behind him. “Isn’t that uncomfortable?” Draco asked, considering the delicate wings.

“Nah,” Harry replied, “You get used to them. They’re actually quite comfy.” He demonstrated this by stretching his arms up to touch the tips of his wings. Draco felt a tightening in his nether region as he watched Harry's lithe body stretch tightly and his gossamer trousers slip a fraction lower. He cleared his throat and looked away, distracting himself by watching the activity around them. He could hear highland music playing close by. Winged faeries, some clothed and some unashamedly nude, were dancing or sitting nearby, simply talking, eating, or drinking. Little faery children were running in between the pyres of wood, laughing merrily as they chased each other with silky ribbons tied to the top of poles.

Draco glanced back at Harry. The boy was scrutinising him through half-lidded eyes. Draco realised that Harry had been watching him intensely since they had sat down. It was beginning to annoy him. “What are you looking at?” he asked snidely.

“You.”

“What about me, Potter?”

Harry sat up and then moved to kneel directly in front of Draco. He leaned close, so that he was nose to nose with the blond boy. “You are very beautiful, Draco Malfoy,” he whispered simply.

Draco felt his face heat with embarrassment. As he turned his head away, he heard Harry's infectious giggle and felt him lie back down on the ground. “'S nothing to be embarrassed about, Malfoy,” Harry said, closing his eyes.

Draco sneered down at the boy. “Shut it, Potter.” They sat in strained silence once again until Draco's curiosity overpowered his nervousness.

“Tell me something, Harry— how’d you end up here? What happened to you that night?”

Harry opened his eyes and smirked up at the other boy, “Took you long enough. I assumed that you and Professor Snape would corner me and demand answers first thing. I'm surprised he's being so patient. Then again, Máthair can be very persuasive when she wants to be.” Harry sat up and crossed his legs in front of him. He considered his words for a long moment before beginning to answer Draco. “What do you remember of that night, Draco?” he asked.

Draco raked his hands through his hair and sighed. He leaned back on his elbows, stretching his long legs in front of him and crossing his ankles. He squinted up at the boy beside him. “I – I remember that monster drinking from the unicorn, and I – I – I… Look, Harry, I really am sorry I left you there alone that night!” he blurted.

Harry grinned ruefully. “Are you sorry that Voldemort died, or that you left me?” Harry lay down beside Draco and turned toward him to rest on one elbow.

“Merlin, Potter! I'm sorry I left you alone! I can't imagine how afraid you must have been.” Draco rolled over to face the dark-haired faery. “When I finally found Hagrid and the others, and we got back to that clearing, and you were gone…” Draco swallowed nervously. “I was so scared for you, Harry. When we saw – when we saw what was left of Quirrell- gods, it was awful, and you were nowhere to be found. Granger just about had kittens, she was so upset. Hagrid had to take us back to the castle, and by the time they assembled a search party, you were long gone. No one could find you. They searched for weeks and weeks.”

Draco stared into the green eyes in front of him. “Dumbledore kept insisting you were still alive, and Snape said you were too, but no one could find even a trace of you. What happened, Harry? Why did you run away?”

Harry sighed. “When you left, Quirrell confronted me— only, he wasn't Quirrell, or I should say that he wasn’t just Quirrell,” Draco nodded his head, remembering the awful two-faced, dead thing on the forest floor. Harry continued, “He had Voldemort sticking out the back of his head. It was horrible.” Harry's free hand rubbed at the scar on his forehead. “My scar hurt something awful, and then Voldemort told Quirrell to kill me! He grabbed me and began to choke me, but then Quirrell screamed and pulled away. For some reason he couldn't touch me— his skin burned when he did. Even so, Voldemort ordered him to kill me, and he started to choke me again. I really thought I was going to die. Like my parents.” Harry paused, his eyes clouded with memories as he tried to organise his thoughts. “I don't really know what happened, Draco. Somehow or other I knew that if I grabbed hold of Quirrell and just hung on, I could make him stop. I took hold of Quirrell's head and just wouldn't let go.” Harry locked his eyes with Draco's as he continued. “The pain was terrible, my scar… It – it hurt so badly I thought my head would split apart. I can't recall what happened next, except I must've blanked out and when I woke, they were dead.”

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“What do you suppose they are talking about?” Severus asked Carlin in a low voice as he leaned toward her, motioning toward the two boys.

“I would imagine that Harry is telling Draco what happened the last night he saw him,” she answered just as quietly. Severus looked up sharply. He saw sadness and concern in the pale, pretty face beside him.

“I would like to know as well,” he said.

Carlin smiled sadly. “Ah, Professor, that is Harry's tale to tell. In truth, he has only ever spoken of it once with me.” She rolled over onto her stomach, her head resting in her hands. She looked up at Severus through her dark lashes. Severus felt his breath catch as heat pooled in his belly. “Harry was close to death when he arrived here in the meadow,” she said, her eyes seductively bright as they roamed over the dark man. “Luckily, I knew he would be coming that night.”

Not used to being scrutinised so intensely, Severus cleared his throat uncomfortably. “How did you know?” he asked, his own eyes looking nervously away from the enchanting periwinkle pools.

“I saw it in a dream,” she answered simply.

“A dream!?” Severus growled incredulously.

“Aye. A dream. Surely you understand that some of the Daoine Sìth are gifted with foresight?” He nodded. “I have that gift— though to a lesser degree than some. My dreams are not always so clear, and I often have to seek the seers to interpret them properly. Others, however, are very clear.”

“Like the night Harry arrived here?” he asked.

“Yes, like that night and also, like this night.” He glanced down at her sharply. Carlin smirked playfully at him. “I knew you would finally arrive, Dark one, and that you would have Draco with you.”

Before Severus could respond to that intriguing statement, Gyre-Carlin rose suddenly, holding her hand out to the surly man. “Come, let us gather the boys. It's nearly midnight, and we have a potion to bless, have we not?”

Severus allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, scowling at the remaining inevitability of being able to complete the puzzle before him. He was no closer to solving it than he had been when he first laid eyes on Harry standing with the Queen.

~~~~~~~~~

Draco scooted closer to Harry. He wanted desperately to reach out and wrap his arms around the other boy. He wanted to comfort him, but he wanted answers more. “Why'd you run away, Harry?”

Harry flipped onto his back, and as he did, the edge of his wing brushed against Draco, causing the blonde to shiver at the light touch. Harry stared into the night sky. Draco watched the boy carefully as an array of emotions played across Harry's face. The boy's eyes were glistening in the dim light, and stars sparkled down to reflect in the green depths. Draco felt his heart clench. Harry was so very beautiful. Draco had never found another boy as attractive as he found Harry, and the feeling confused him. However, his confusion was easily overpowered by attraction. Harry rolled his head toward him. “Do you know what my life was like before Hogwarts?” he asked Draco cautiously. The blond shook his head. Harry frowned, his brows knitting together. “Well, that's why I ran, Draco,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Draco whispered. He felt as though they were sharing secrets and this moment was for the two of them alone. Harry's verdant eyes glanced upwards, holding Draco's in thrall.

“My family, the Muggles, I mean, well, they never liked me much, you see. They were er – sort of— not very nice to me.” Sighing, Harry looked back at the sky. He seemed to find it difficult to continue, but he did, “They didn't like magic, see. And they definitely didn't like me. They er – they didn't treat me very nicely, and they made me believe that I was worthless. A freak.”

Draco gasped, more at what he knew Harry was NOT saying than at what he had said. “What did they have to do with running away, Harry?” he said gently as he reached out and brushed away a stray tear that had slipped down Harry's cheek.

Harry smiled and leaned into the touch. He turned back to Draco. “I know this won't make any sense at all, Draco, but I believed I would be punished for killing someone. I was afraid. So I ran.”

“Harry! You had acted in self-defence!”

“I know that, I know. But see, I was really hurt and confused, and I kept thinking about the Dursleys and how they would punish me even when it wasn't my fault.” Harry's hand rubbed at his scar again. Before Draco could respond further, Snape and Gyre-Carlin interrupted them.

“Come, boys,” Carlin said, “The blessing time is upon us!” The boys rose as one to stand beside the adults, leaving their conversation behind. Carlin, holding Snape's hand, led him toward the bonfire. Draco, feeling bold, grasped Harry's hand in his and followed.

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*1 Oidhche is pronounced Oi-ta-ch means eve of
*2 bràthair is pronounced vraa-hair means brother
*3 Sorcha is pronounced soa-ha-chah Harry’s sister’s name
*4 siúr is pronounced shoor means sister

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