She followed him to the chairs and handed him the cup of jasmine, before settling herself in the other chair. Before saying anything, she allowed herself to simply inhale the scent of the tea.
"So..." she began, "I think it might be best if I start with what I was doing in Azkaban that day and what's happened with me since then. Just to get it out the way, since you asked, your charm work is holding just fine, that's not why I'm here."
It had to be said, needing a little air-clearing, but that wasn't what she wanted to focus on. "I was there that day with a Ministry escort doing some recon work. There's a few folks suspected of dark magic, and one wretch in Azkaban for no crime he actually committed, but there because he was paid to take the fall for someone else. That someone else is connected to one Vincent Spaulding, who is a thoroughly odious pudding of a man who pretends to the muggles and magical alike that he's somehow one of them."
She took a sip of tea, wondering which strand of the tangled skein she wanted to follow next. Perhaps chronologically.
"I get hired sometimes to find things, not just to scare people back onto the straight and narrow, since some of my ... clients ... don't pay because because they think they can tough it out and simply hide the money, so finding people, things, information, it's a particular set of skills that's worth having when a simple Accio won't do the job. And that day I was there to interrogate someone because the Ministry thought I was either more effective - or more likely cheaper - than their other alternatives, which as I said, led me to Spaulding."
She stared into her tea for a moment, watching it swirl. She could only put off this next part of the conversation for so long and perhaps like a bandage on a wound, opening it to the elements was what was needed.
"I'd just finished doing what I do when I heard a bang - your blasting spell - and went to see what was going on, because any commotion in Azkaban doesn't tend to end well. The emotions get all fired up, the Dementors think it's party time."
And that was where it got extremely awkward.
She looked down into her tea again, not wanting to make eye contact. "That was about the time we bumped into each other. I didn't pay attention to most of what the two of you said, I was a little distracted, but the reality is that I did hear a list of names. Names that don't mean much to me, but clearly they did to you. I didn't have you down as the vengeful type exactly, but on reflection, when we talked about good but not necessarily pleasant deeds and, I don't know, maybe something clicked that day. Time to right an old wrong perhaps. I... know some of the signs, I see it sometimes."
A deep breath, and an inhalation of the scent of tea. The peach was still stronger than the vanilla, just as she'd remembered about his choice of tea blends. She also considered that there was a lot to say, a lot of gaps to fill in, and that perhaps she should have made herself two cups.
"I don't know how much you remember about that day in Azkaban. I'm sure you must remember every word you and your father exchanged, but what happened after, I'm not so sure about." She peered at him as if trying to squint through into his brain. Inwardly she hoped it might provoke a smile, her being very much not a legilimens.
"I'd pulled a few tricks out of my sleeve to keep the Dementors at bay but when it came down to it, you were the one who came through with that moosive moose. Or is it an elk? I don't know enough to tell the difference, but it was massive." She giggled, "The Dementors didn't know what to make of it at all!"
"Now, I'd have preferred to come back with you rather than with my Ministry minder, but he positively insisted. And that, was that."
A quick swig of tea. Not too much, mind. There was more to the story yet.
"I didn't know at that point what sort of shape you were in - I'd figured you'd have been Dementor-proof in there, if anyone could keep them out it had to be you, but whatever you and your father talked about, whatever you did changed that balance."
She sighed. "I was sent home and I cuddled with Bonehead for a bit until I felt a little more in touch with the world but I can only imagine how you must have been ruminating over everything that happened... you seem the type. It's in your eyes, they're very intense. I don't know exactly what happened next, but I came by the next day because you and I needed to talk about what had happened."
She drained her cup, and smiled ruefully to herself. "You might have the deep dark backstory but I'm not sure you're quite cut out for vengeance. It's not for everyone. But what I can tell you about what happened next... I came by looking for you because experiences like that change people and while I might not be a therapist, I knew both of us would at least need to say something about it, and ideally not to anyone else."
She set the cup down, set her hands together on her lap in absence of anything else to do with them. "But when I got here, you weren't here - and the door was open. But Aoibheann was here and we got talking - we were both worried about you and we didn't know where you were, but we found you and you were pretty out of it. Trouble is, neither of us are healers and when we found you, we really weren't sure what to do with you - so the best thing we could think of was to get you to St. Mangled's because, well, you weren't around to consult."
"After that, your ladyfriend snuck into St. Mangled's, kept an eye on you, and by all accounts got some people from the continent involved. I don't know much about that, and frankly... that's your business. She's nice, I like her, and she deserves good things to happen - both of you do. But we both know the world isn't like that."
She picked up the tea cup, hoping it would have more peach tea in it but knowing it wouldn't, and set it back down again with a very slight pout. She decided against mentioning her trip to the Auror's Office for now. There was enough going on without worrying Odhrán more.
"So, you think your magic is busted, and you're selling up and you're going to... retire to a cottage in the country and have lots of little Ó Dálaighs? They'd probably be way cute. Or are you planning on putting aside that and going out for revenge, because after all this time it's not vengeance, it is revenge, and that I'm really not sure you have the stomach for."
She looked out the window. "I didn't have the stomach for it either, not really, and it was me they hurt. I told myself I was better than them, that I wasn't going to stoop to their level, but when I had found those who did... what they did... I couldn't say the words out loud. My vocal cords just wouldn't say them."
She let out a breath. "Well, that's all I have to say for now." She cleared her throat and with a smile and every bit of fake sincerity in her voice that she could manage - on purpose - she said, "So, how have you been?"