Severus Snape awoke with a start. Gasping as he held a shaking hand to his chest, he looked down to see what was wrong. He could see nothing, yet he could feel as something warm trickled down his chest, from a point just above his heart. He moved his hand in a circular movement over the offending area before his face fell. There was nothing wrong with him; he knew that he was feeling Sorcha’s pain, as he had done so only once before.

He looked about at the unfamiliar settings. Opposite him lay the girl, Meredith, who had brought him here. But she was all he could remember of this place. They were camped in a small forest clearing, though the sound of water was close – he recalled their near death experience crossing the sea, and all of the previous night’s events. They must have slept through the day, as the sun was setting to the west, and an agitated gloom was settling upon them.

The trees leered above, swaying menacingly to and fro, goading him into their depths. Sheer fatigue convinced him not to follow. The pain in his chest stopped abruptly. He froze, blood draining from his face. What did this mean? He sagged backwards. She couldn’t be dead. She wouldn’t give up that easily – even to a fatal wound! He would continue his search, even if it proved fruitless, and even if he returned only with her body.

He struck the morbid thoughts from his mind and picked up a log. He was quite hungry and upon realising there were no supplies of food among their meagre luggage, knew what he had to do. It would hardly be a feast, but he pointed his wand at the earthen bounty and transfigured it to a leg of pork. He got a fire started and conjured a suitable device to roast the pork, all the while Meredith lay asleep. He imagined that her energy after such a massive drawing of raw magic would nearly have killed the girl, untrained as she was.

When she finally stirred then came awake, the food was ready. Both ate ravenously as the moon watched from overhead. It was time to make arrangements for the next part of the journey. Severus had no clue where to begin his search for Sorcha. He spoke with Meredith, whom he hoped would give him some insight as to where the Fianna could be found.

“Severus, it’s difficult, you see. The Fianna aren’t about t’stay in one place now, are they? They protect the whole of the coastline. If you seek the army, then I would go to the hall of the High King – there will be much talk of the Fianna’s whereabouts there.�

Severus found himself wishing he’d listened to Sorcha more often. He was sure she’d mentioned the where the High King lived, and the places that the Fianna normally held camp. But he’d never paid a bit of attention to what he called ‘Binn moments,’ those times where she sounded awfully alike Professor Binns.

“Where would I find the King’s Hall, Meredith?� he asked, more forlorn than he sounded.

“The King’s Hall is in Meath. Not far north from here.� She sighed. “Severus, why are you so interested in the Fianna? I can’t begin to think why you would want to meet with any of them. You are no soldier.� Meredith had clearly been interested in this matter for sometime, perhaps hoping she would be caught up in his adventure. He looked at her ragged form; she had saved his life from the sea. The truth was little in return.

“If you cast your thoughts back to the night in front of the fire, you will remember I asked you about a person whom might have been associated with the Fianna,� he answered stiffly.

“Sorcha the Sly!� Meredith said excitedly.

Severus snorted; it really was quite a hilarious name, especially for one so clumsy as Sorcha.

“Yes,� he laughed. “Sorcha the Sly. She is my wife,� he finished shortly.

Meredith looked at him thunderstruck. To her he must be the least attractive person she had ever seen, the possibility that one of her heroes could be married to so… greasy a man was beyond her comprehension. She frowned.

“You don’t believe me, do you?� Severus said. “No, no one ever does.� He seemed sullen, broody even as he always did when people doubted his marriage to Sorcha. “I will continue on my journey in the morning. Will you be going home?� he asked tonelessly.

“If you need a –�

“No.�

“But I can-�

“I mean, no. I will not be here any longer than I have to. And you – you must go home to your family. You’re needed there. You will do as you are told, girl,� he said through clenched teeth.

“You don’t control me,� Meredith replied fiercely.

“Then do as you will, but I will not be responsible.� Severus was reminded again of his own daughter, Cassiopeia, who somewhere in the distant future, was fading into nothingness. And now he knew why; her mother was dead or dying.

“I’ll follow you,� she said petulantly.

He shook his head; his summer was not getting any better. Still, Meredith ranted. “You’re clearly not used to travelling in the wild. I can help you – you know there might be dangers here that only I can deal with!� He could hear only vaguely over his roving thoughts.

“SILENCE!� he roared. The girl shut up immediately and the forest around them sifted into complete silence. Not even the rustle of wind through leaves broke the tension.

“There are ways of forcing you to return. But I would rather not use them. Don’t say a word,� he added, as he recognised the parted lips readying to spring a verbal attack. “You will not come. That is final.�

They both stared into the flames for a long time, but its depths offered no story this night, only an infinite emptiness.

“What are you?� she whispered, though Severus chose not to reply. “You see that empty space in the sky there?� she said, when the fire was low, reduced to little more than embers.

Her finger pointed at a vast blackness in the sky. “That’s where I will be one day, watching as the world grows up.�

With that, Meredith curled up in beneath her cloak and was asleep in minutes. Severus attempted the same thing, but was unnerved by what he had just witnessed. He couldn’t be sure, but he was almost certain that the girl had just pointed to where a familiar star was housed in his own day and age.

Cassiopeia.

He felt terribly alone that night, as he felt both his wife and daughter slipping further from his grasp.

He awoke the next morning as alone as he had felt the previous night. Meredith had vanished, and he could only imagine that he had successfully pushed her away. He quickly checked that all his possessions were intact and sat for a short while, face in his hands, observing the wreck he had become. His clothes were dirty, a mottled pattern of greens, greys and browns dashed across their coarse threads. He though that certainly he looked the part of a lost traveller, one who had not seen a bath for decades, let alone a week. He stood gingerly, placing his wand horizontally in the palm of his left hand, and said, “Point me north.�

He watched it spin furiously, finally settling, pointing that north lay behind him. He spun around to survey his path. His eyes closed slowly as he drank in the disaster before him.

He faced the depth of the forest. Great claw-like trunks protruded from the hard packed earthen ground, the trees were short but vast, harbouring a thickness of branches and leaves overhead which obscured the sky from view completely. The way forward was dark.

Severus Snape knew that this was the only way to go. He suddenly wished he had thought this entire journey out a little better. He could have at least planned where he would go and how he would get there. There were many things he could have done in his own time that would have proved logical in his travels. But he was here now, and as he trudged onwards, he paid no heed to the shadows which silently followed him as he entangled himself in the ancient forest.

He travelled through the lowest canopy of greenery slowly. The sheer density made it near impossible to move quickly, and prolonged movement cost him dearly – he found that after mere hours of walking, his energy was completely sapped. Progress was slow, morale even less so, and the motive seemed to loosen with each step Snape took. He refused to believe Sorcha was dead, yet if she was, this would be for naught.

Still he traipsed forward, checking every so often on the direction. There seemed to be no break to the trees which stood everywhere. Indeed so thick and clustered they were that he began to wonder how they grew in such close confinement. The forest was ever dark, time slowed to the point he had lost all sense of it. But he was positive he was not alone.

As fatigue gloated supremacy over his weary body he found the nearest clearing, which was pitifully small. He curled up as there was barely enough room for him to lie down straight. The whispers were definitely there.

He had thought them only a figment of his imagination, as what little light faded from the depths of the forest, anything seemed possible. But the blanket of darkness settled thickly and the minuscule whispering seemed all around, close and far. But there was one whisper that he recognised.

“Amadán, Severus. Don’t let them touch you. Don’t listen to them.�

“SORCHA!� he cried aloud. “Oh, Sorcha, I need your help. I should have listened.� Then coming to his senses, he asked, “Amadán? What are they?�

“Faeries, they can paralyse you with a mere touch, the pain for you will be immense.�

He knew that she referred to it being because of his years as a Death Eater for Lord Voldemort.

“Severus, I’m dying. Help me, Severus.� The whisper was chained with sobs.

He burst awake, and immediately lit his wand. When his eyes finally adjusted to the new brightness, he spent minutes staring silently ahead. It was then that he could see the tiny reflections of sparkling wings, no bigger than his thumb. Sorcha had always joked that his eyesight was keener than that of an eagle, and indeed now he conceded her point. He could see excruciatingly straight features, pointed to the edge of their small frames, grey skin, but startlingly green eyes all focused upon him. He had never taken Care of Magical Creatures, or even taken an interest in the subject, he had no clue as to what these creatures would do.

“Don’t move, we have these back home too,� said a familiar voice behind him. “Golau Carchar!�

The faeries charged, searing forward like loosed arrows, little more than a blur until they came into contact with the bars of light that had been thrown up about them. Screeching and hissing noises erupted about them, some dramatically fell to the floor, whimpering and claiming injury via tiny gestures of their arms.

“Is it us, or them that is imprisoned, Meredith?�

“Them… I hope.� The young woman looked uncomfortable, flinching slightly at the glare the Potions Master now levelled upon her. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to go home.�

“I told you not to follow.�

“Actually, you –�

“Confound you, child! I’m certain you had the impression I did not want you here!�

“Well, yes, but-�

“We’ve been through this,� Severus said impatiently. Then he reasoned; she did have her uses, and she was easily more experienced in the magics of this ancient realm than he was. “Very well.� He finally accepted that she would be of better use with him.

“I want to try something. Place your arm upon my own,� Severus instructed. He focused on a mere possibility of a destination. But his determination to be there did not falter, and he and Meredith re-materialised on the northern most point of the forest.

So this was Meath.

Severus had to admit that he expected more. The greenery around them was bathed in the milky light cast off from the moon. There was no life here, only the rustle of unkempt grass left to fend for itself where wind tore through its thick blades. This was Meath, the place that he knew the truth would come to him. Where were the people? He had always imagined that people flocked to power centres, yet here there was no sign that this place was even recognised by people. Perhaps they were just too far from the High Kings court.

“Can we not just do that, I mean, what you just did to get to the High King?� Meredith spoke timidly, as if recognising his mood had changed.

“No,� he replied shortly. “I have no guess as to where it might be located, unless you could enlighten me.�

She shook her head and looked down. His lips locked in an expression of great annoyance, he cast her a fleeting look of tolerance and began to walk. The roughly spun material of his trousers chaffing against already irritated skin. He froze and turned to the stationary form of Meredith, whose eyes were wide with some unknown knowledge.

“What? What is it?�

“The faeries are loose,� she muttered. “But I tied it off well, I know I did,� she pleaded, almost.

“They are far from us. We need to move now.�

Meredith nodded and followed him in a daze. They walked all through the night, the mood silent but somewhat lighter, than the previous few days. The pain in his chest had returned in fluctuating bursts. He was certain that someone was attempting to heal Sorcha, but the wound must have been warded with Dark Magic, or the healing would have stuck. He feared that he would be too late.

Meanwhile, Meredith had, in Severus’ opinion, lost her mind. She danced and skipped in his wake, singing and speaking to some unseen follower. He had not thought to ask her of what she thought she was doing, he grew tiresome of her unfaltering energy and what he once perceived as a witch in her late teens, he now saw as a child not much older than ten.

“Severus!� she gasped. “Severus, the Fianna ride! Can you hear it?�

Indeed the ground had become riddled with mild tremors, which, he thought were the likely result of horses. But it could be any mounted company – why was Meredith so certain it was the Fianna? A lone rider appeared moments later. He called something, though Severus was at a loss to understand the language.

“Bog leataobh! An Fianna marcaíocht!�

Snape looked to Meredith, who said lamely, “Move aside, the Fianna ride.�

It was clear to Severus that they did not mean to stop. He and Meredith ran in the direction to which the messenger had waved them. A last glance at the rider, who nodded to Severus, showed the direction the Army headed – and their own path. If he could stop them, he could heal Sorcha, but he knew that he couldn’t stop them – he had little success in Gaelic as it was.

Another rider with two great hounds racing in his wake sped past. Though upon the horse Severus noticed two people were mounted. One held the reins in one hand and with his other he clasped the second person to him. It could only be his wife, Sorcha, whose limp form paled under the cold of the moon.

“Wait! WAIT!� he called helplessly, for over the hoof beats little could be heard. “I CAN HELP HER!� he screamed. But no one paid him any heed, he spoke a tongue they did not understand and he hardly posed a threat to a soldier mounted on horseback.

“Let me help her,� he whispered, defeated.

He stood motionless as the bulk of the army rode past. He did not know the feeling that brewed in his chest, for he had never felt it before. The mix of jealous anger and grief threatened to overwhelm his person. But he steeled his resolve and gestured that they should continue.

“What’s wrong?� Meredith asked, with great caution.

“Do the Fianna normally ride though the night?� he sneered.

“No, they don’t, Severus,� she snapped. “Focus your passions elsewhere - I’m trying to help you.�

He stormed ahead not paying attention to her words. He must find Sorcha before it was too late.