Author's Note: Hi everyone, and thanks so much for stopping by! I wanted to include a few notes before I get started.
First and most importantly, I wanted to include a Trigger Warning for this story. This story contains references to past domestic and child abuse, though it will only be alluded to in this part of the story. There will also be a scene that includes sexual harassment and assault. Additionally, there will be a few scenes that contain explicit sexual content that ranges from dubious consent to non-consensual. Since is pretty... confusing... regarding what content it allows and does not allow, I will be publishing a censored version of at least one scene here. If you wish to read the uncensored version of this story, please head over to AO3 (lmk if you have trouble finding the fic) where I will be cross-posting this story. The last thing I want is for someone to be triggered reading this story (we're here to have fun and swoon, not be re-traumatized), so if you have any questions regarding any of this content, please let me know and I will do my best to answer your questions.
Second, I wanted to let you know that this story is a really, really slow-burn teacher/student RL/OFC story. If that's not your thing, thanks for visiting and probably definitely go read something else, because you're not going to like this and I don't particularly want to hear about it, since I'm giving you plenty of warning right now that that's where this is all heading. That being said, for those of you who are interested in this kind of content I wanted to give you a heads up that this is a really, reaaaaalllllly slow burn. As in, they're not going to get together while he's still her teacher. (Sorry.) I hope you'll stick it out and enjoy the story in the meantime, though!
Third and finally, I wanted to let you know that some chapters (not all) will have a song title listed at the end of them. But this is not a songfic! Characters don't sing these songs, and unless otherwise specified the characters are not listening to these songs (especially since most of them were released after this story takes place). These are just songs that make me think of certain situations, emotions, or motivations in the chapter, or sometimes a moment in the song inspired a moment in the chapter. Think of it as more of a soundtrack. You also totally don't have to go off and listen to these songs if you don't want to. It's just a bit of flavor I thought I'd throw in. When appropriate I'll list which character is associated with the song in my mind.
Okay, that's it! I hope you enjoy reading!
Chapter One: Tarot and TerrorSeptember 1, 1993
Mairead's body awoke before her mind did. She flailed around blindly trying to disentangle herself from her sheets to silence the trilling of her alarm clock. After a few seconds she worked one hand free and reached for the clock, but overshot the mark and sent it flying off her bedside table.
"Fecking hell," she grumbled hoarsely to herself as the top half of her body lurched over the side of the bed and she skittered both hands along the ground searching in the semi-dark for the offending sound.
After what felt like an eternity her hand knocked into the side of the vibrating object. Picking it up, she smacked it randomly until by sheer chance her hand fell on the button to silence the alarm.
The sound still ringing in her ears, Mairead clutched the alarm clock to her chest and collapsed back onto her pillow with a "Whoomph!" She lay there stunned for a few moments before philosophically musing, "Bloody hell."
She could hear stirrings in the beds surrounding her, and one sleepy voice called out, "S'going on?"
"Nothing, just me," Mairead whispered into the dark. "You don't have to get up yet. Go back to sleep."
Mairead took deep breaths to wake up and slow the beating of her heart. She normally didn't sleep well at all, and resented that her alarm clock had disturbed a rare stretch of dreamless, peaceful sleep. Letting go of her alarm clock, Mairead scrubbed her hands over her face vigorously.
It was no good. She was just going to have to drag herself out of bed groggy and shake the cobwebs off her mind later. With a heavy sigh, Mairead swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. She groped in the dark for the edge of her bedside table and set her alarm clock back on its scrubbed wooden surface. She felt around until her hands alighted on the clothes she had stacked there the previous night. Mairead pushed herself to her feet with a quiet groan and dressed silently in the dark.
When she was finished (she was fairly certain one of her socks was on backwards) she shuffled towards the sliver of light she could see under the door at the end of the long girls' dormitory, hands stretched slightly out from her sides to ensure she didn't careen into the beds lined up on either side of the room. When she reached the door, she groped for the smooth handle and turned it silently. She slipped out of the room as quickly as possible to avoid letting the light from the corridor spill into the dormitory and wake Ellie Daniels, whose bed was closest to the door.
Once out in the corridor, Mairead squinted and blinked until her eyes adjusted to the light from the candelabras mounted on either side of the corridor, illuminating the doors to the various girls' dormitories, then set off in the direction of the main hall of St. Hedwig's.
After stopping briefly to fix her sock, Mairead walked the length of the corridor through the door at the end, which led to another corridor. On the opposite side of this corridor was another door identical to the one she had just closed. That door, locked from the outside like the door she had just walked through, separated the boys' dormitories from the girls'.
When she was about halfway down the second corridor, she heard a door open and close behind her. Turning to look, she smiled at her friend Edgar Okada, who blinked owlishly at her for a few seconds before he appeared to recognize her.
"Top o' the mor-m-" he started but then broke off into a huge yawn.
Mairead found herself yawning as well. "Great, now you've got me started."
Edgar grinned at her and trotted over, his black hair still mussed from sleep, and together they walked the remaining distance to the Main Hall.
They were the last of their group to arrive. Mairead looked around and saw that the other two eldest students who had been selected for the early morning duty, Ansel Williams and Sophie Rosier, were already waiting for them.
"Good morning," Edgar said, smiling at the two.
"Morning's in an hour, and good's not for five more after that," Sophie responded.
Mairead snickered and grinned at Ansel, who smiled crookedly and rolled his eyes.
"Right," he said. "Let's get to it so we can get some breakfast before the mayhem begins."
The four turned to consider their task. The walls on either side of the main hall were lined with trunks, all bearing the Hogwarts seal. It was their task to go through the trunks and make sure the younger students had everything the Hogwarts supply list for their years called for. St. Hedwig's only had one resident owl, and sending an endless stream of forgotten items and books by Owl Post quickly became prohibitively expensive. Older students at St. Hedwig's (sixth and seventh years) were selected each year to do a luggage check to prevent this.
Ansel turned and picked up some lists from a long table. "Here," he said holding them out to the small group. "First and Second years are over there," he indicated, "Third and Fourth years are along the opposite wall. Fifth years and up are on their own."
Mairead reached forward and selected a list at random. Second year. She walked over to where those trunks were laid out and got to work.
The four teenagers chatted amiably while they worked. They all got along well, having spent most or all of their childhood years together at St. Hedwig's.
St Hedwig's (full name: St. Hedwig's Home for Muggleborns, Squibs, and Orphaned Witches and Wizards) was a large, ambling house in London. It was founded in the 15th century when Muggle witch-hunting efforts began troubling the wizarding community. While full-grown witches and wizards could easily side-step Muggles' attempts on their lives, young Muggleborn children, who often began showing signs of magical abilities long before their Hogwarts acceptance letters arrived, were in most cases unable to defend themselves. St. Hedwig's was originally founded to be a shelter to those children whose communities or even whose own families would rather see them dead than see them practice magic.
Shortly afterward, its Governors realized that its mission of protecting battered and endangered children extended quite naturally to those children who were born into Wizarding households but who exhibited no magical tendencies whatsoever. While most Wizarding parents loved their children regardless of their magical abilities, it was not unheard of, particularly among the longest standing pureblood lines, for the occasional Wizarding family to try to knock some magic into a Squib child, or even to take drastic measures to hide the very existence of a Squib child.
Protecting Muggleborns and Squibs was St. Hedwig's primary mission for hundreds of years. But when Grindelwald rose to power in the early 20th Century, leaving many young witches and wizards orphaned by the murder of their parents, the staff at St. Hedwig's offered to take them in. This expansion was met with much commendation in the larger Wizarding community, but was assumed to have been temporary. That is, until The Dark Lord rose to prominence. The 70's and 80's saw a rapid surge in orphaned young witches and wizards, and the property of St. Hedwig's was magically expanded yet again.
Nowadays, looking at St. Hedwig's from the outside might forcibly remind an observer of an elephant balancing on a small inflated ball. Its many added wings protruded from the sides of the upper stories in a way that certainly would not have held up had it not been for the copious amounts of magic substituting for structural integrity.
A great many of the children orphaned by The Dark Lord and his followers had since grown up, graduated from Hogwarts, and moved on from St. Hedwig's. Following the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the hands of the infant Harry Potter, there came a final swelling in the numbers at St. Hedwig's: that of the children of Death Eaters who had either been killed or arrested and sentenced to life in Azkaban. There was a rush of these children right around 1981 when The Dark Lord fell, but they continued to trickle in for several years afterward as Aurors amassed evidence to convict suspected Death Eaters.
Ansel was an orphan whose parents had been murdered by Death Eaters when he was four. He had been at St. Hedwig's the longest of the group of four: thirteen out of his seventeen years. Sophie was brought to St. Hedwig's the year before You-Know-Who fell, when her parents, both Death Eaters, were killed by Aurors. Though Sophie was a year younger than Ansel, she arrived there only shortly after him. Edgar was the son of two Muggle Missionaries. St. Hedwig's had stepped in when he was six years old. Now sixteen, he had been here nearly as long as Ansel and Sophie.
It was to the final group of children that Mairead belonged. She had been nine years old before Aurors had finally been able to make an arrest on her father. Kenneth O'Keefe had been notorious even among Death Eaters. His name was included among the likes of the Lestranges and Antonin Dolohov as being the most feared and sadistic of The Dark Lord's followers. His specialties had been persuasion and information extraction. In other words: torture.
Though Mairead had only been at St. Hedwig's for eight years, she was well-liked, and counted Ansel, Sophie, and Edgar among her closest friends.
She smiled and giggled as they bantered back and forth while working steadily through the trunks of the younger students. She and Sophie teased Edgar about his budding romance with a fellow sixth year boy, with Ansel coming to Edgar's defense when he felt it necessary.
"Hey, I've got to have some company for when you and Ansel graduate and leave me all alone!" Edgar laughed.
"Hey! What the hell am I, your distant Aunt Patty?" Sophie retorted.
Edgar held up both hands in mock surrender. "I'm just saying it's going to be different next year. Who's going to apologize to inanimate objects for bumping into them, if not May-Reed here?"
Mairead rolled her eyes at his deliberate mispronunciation of her name. "You're just sad that Ansel's not going to be there to restore all the points you lose in Potions," she responded.
"Seriously, though, it is going to be really weird," Edgar insisted. "Coming back here without you? Have you thought about where you'll go after you graduate?"
Mairead didn't want to think about what life would be like after graduation. She had dreams of course, but no real hope of being able to accomplish them. Her grades, her capabilities just weren't where they needed to be. She had known that long before her cringe-worthy Career Advice session with Professor Sprout in her fifth year.
And that was leaving completely alone the squirming anxiety she felt whenever she thought about moving out of St. Hedwig's and being expected to find a place on her own, to subsist on her own. She kept having a recurring nightmare in which she was shoved out of a top story window of St. Hedwig's while Sister Mary Agnes called, "Didn't they teach you to grow wings at Hogwarts?"
You'd hardly need Professor Trelawney to decipher that one.
Shoving these worries to the back of her mind, she smirked and said, "Yeah, I'm going to move in with your crush, Jonathan. I'm gonna get to know him really well."
Edgar grabbed a pair of dragonhide gloves out of the trunk he was checking and chucked them at Mairead. She shrieked and scrabbled for something to retaliate with in the trunk in front of her, but before she could pull anything out, she felt Ansel's hand on her elbow.
"I will personally see to it that you never graduate if you make me miss breakfast because we're sorting out whose scrunchies are whose," he said matter-of-factly.
Mairead slumped. "Spoilsport," she muttered.
"Indeed," he said phlegmatically, retrieving the dragonhide gloves and returning them to Edgar. "But it's nearly six thirty, and I intend to be a well-fed spoilsport."
...
Mairead slid open one of the compartment doors on the Hogwarts Express and looked in on the empty compartment.
"Right," she called over her shoulder. "This one's empty. Why don't you all go in and make yourselves comfortable? Ansel and I will see to your trunks."
Three eleven-year-olds and two twelve-year-olds slid past her into the compartment, taking their seats and chattering eagerly. The Second Years were excitedly describing Hogwarts to the three newcomers. Mairead could see that the nerves that had cropped up upon seeing the impressive scarlet train were being transformed into excitement, and it made her feel slightly giddy. There was truly nothing like seeing Hogwarts through the eyes of a First Year.
She returned to the platform and helped Sister Mary Agnes, Sister Mary Margaret, Sister Mary Ingrid, Sister Mary Elizabeth, and the other older St. Hedwig's students load the trunks onto the train. Not for the first time, Mairead was grateful they always arrived at platform nine and three-quarters early. The platform had become quite crowded by the time they were finishing up.
Mairead returned to the platform, wiping her sweaty hair out of her eyes, to say goodbye to the Sisters. Ansel was there too, and they took turns trading farewells with the Sisters. She hugged them all, but she hugged Sister Mary Margaret the tightest.
"Oh, have a wonderful final year!" Sister Mary Margaret exclaimed, her blue eyes shining with happiness.
"I'll miss you," Mairead said, diving in for another hug. "Promise you'll write?"
"Of course we will!" Sister Mary Margaret pulled back but held onto Mairead by the shoulders, her expression becoming more serious. "Please be careful," she said in a low voice. "Do please keep an eye on the younger children, but don't forget to protect yourself, as well."
Sister Mary Margaret's eyes darted to the wanted posters lining the platform. From every single one of them the same gaunt face glared, eyes shining malevolently.
"I know you have already thought of this, but you may be a target of special interest," she went on, voice throbbing with worry. "I won't condescend to you and give you silly advice, but please, please look out for yourself."
"I will," Mairead promised, trying her best to keep her voice from quivering.
Sister Mary Margaret hugged her tightly one last time and released her. Mairead turned to find Ansel engaged in a quiet, serious discussion with Sister Mary Agnes. Was it her imagination, or did their eyes keep flitting to her? It totally wasn't her imagination.
Mairead waited until Ansel finished his conversation and came over to her side.
"That about me?" she asked in a low voice.
"Don't worry about it," he responded.
Mairead fixed him with a withering stare, and he relented. "Yeah. It was about you."
Mairead shrugged, doing her best to seem nonchalant. "Well, shall we?"
Ansel nodded. "We shall."
They turned as one and almost went crashing into Percy Weasley, who was making a beeline for his girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater. A shiny new badge was pinned prominently to his puffed-out chest.
Mairead watched Ansel's face as Percy walked by.
"It should've been you," she said simply.
"It's fine," he said shortly, avoiding Mairead's eyes.
Mairead said nothing, but simply leaned against his side and rested her head on his shoulder. After a few seconds Ansel slumped. "I wish it had been me," he said very quietly.
Mairead slid her arms around him, giving him a side hug.
"He's going to be a pompous ass," Ansel muttered bitterly.
"Ah, well that'll make for a very nice change," Mairead mused.
Ansel glanced down at her and snorted, shifting an arm so he could return the hug. "You really are absurd."
"Right back at you, my friend."
...
Mairead woke with a start.
"Oh, sorry!" Edgar said. Mairead looked over and saw him engaged in a game of Exploding Snap with Sophie.
"How long was I out?" Mairead asked.
"Not long," Sophie replied, gathering up the cards and reshuffling them. "I expect we're getting close to Hogsmeade though."
Mairead looked over and saw that Alex, Nora, and Sam, the three First Years, were all still there, chatting and behaving themselves. Amanda, one of the Second Years, was reading, and Thomas, the other Second Year, was nowhere in sight.
"Where's Thomas?" she asked.
"He went to hang out with Colin Creevey," Amanda answered without looking up from her book.
Mairead noticed that everyone around her had already changed into their school robes, so she stood up, stretched, and went into her trunk to pull out her own. She finished changing and then reached back into her trunk and fished around until she found what she was looking for.
Mairead returned to her seat, unwrapped her tarot deck and the notebook she kept with it, and began shuffling. Sophie looked over at what Mairead was doing and snorted.
"You don't honestly believe that tripe, do you?"
Mairead shrugged. "I've had decent luck with it."
As she shuffled, Mairead focused her thoughts on the question she had asked on every trip on the Hogwarts Express for the past four years. What can I expect from this school year?
She focused on the question until three cards fell away from the rest of the deck and landed in her lap. Setting the remaining cards aside, she flipped these three cards upright.
The first card was the Magician. This card showed a man with brown hair and red robes holding a wand aloft in one hand and pointing at the ground with his other. This was typically an excellent card. It indicated opportunities, strong potential, owning your power, and manifesting your goals and wishes. So far so good.
Mairead turned over the next card, feeling cautiously optimistic. Her hopes quickly came back down. It was the Five of Pentacles. This was one of the more difficult cards in the tarot. It showed two figures in ragged clothes struggling through deep snow. One of the figures was hobbling on crutches. Misery and suffering were evident on their faces. These two figures were so steeped in their own unhappiness that they failed to notice that they were walking beneath the stained glass windows of a church that could give them shelter.
Mairead pulled her lips into her mouth and bit down apprehensively. She turned over the last card to reveal the Four of Cups. This card showed a figure sitting beneath a tree. He had three shiny, golden cups lined up in front of him, and next to him floated a cloud from which emerged a hand, extending a fourth cup in offering, yet the figure sat apathetically, his arms crossed over his chest, not looking at any of the beautiful cups that were all around him.
Mairead sighed and slumped back in her seat. She resisted the urge to put the cards back into the deck and reshuffle them. Perhaps she hadn't focused well enough on her question. She stared at the cards, allowing her gaze to be unfocused, hoping another meaning would rise to the top.
Edgar looked up from his hand and over at Mairead's expression. "Uh-oh. Not good?"
"Not so much," she said, trying to sound casual.
"What, did you get the Death card?" Sophie asked sarcastically.
"No. And that's not what that card means, anyway," said Mairead.
Edgar tilted his head to one side. "What's up, May?'
"From what I'm seeing it looks like I'm going to be given a really fantastic opportunity this year. But I'm going to be so busy feeling sorry for myself that I'm not going to notice that I'm being offered help, and I'm going to turn down the opportunity."
Edgar's mouth twisted to one side. "That's rough. Sorry."
Sophie rolled her eyes. "This is completely ridiculous! The year hasn't even started yet! Why don't you just ask the bloody cards how to not miss your chance? Sounds like it'd be a hell of a lot more helpful than letting a deck of playing cards push you around."
Mairead considered her appreciatively. "D'you know, that's actually a really good idea."
She picked up the deck, leaving the Magician on the table and reincorporating the other two cards into the deck. How can I ensure I don't miss this opportunity to achieve my goals?
She began shuffling again, focusing on the promise of the Magician. Before too long, one card stuck out the top of the deck. Mairead plucked it out from amongst the others and turned it over. It was the first card in the Major Arcana: The Fool. This card showed a young person lightly holding a flower in one hand and a staff over his opposite shoulder with a small sack tied to the end. He was walking toward the edge of a cliff, and one foot was raised. It was clear that his next step would take him over the cliff. A small dog jumped at his heels as if to warn him to stop, but the expression on The Fool's face was one of utter bliss and peace.
Mairead's mouth twitched. Take a leap of faith, she thought. Got it.
Dutifully, she flipped her notebook open to a blank page and noted the questions she had asked and the answers she had received.
"Will you read my cards?" Alex asked.
"Absolutely!" Mairead said, her buoyant mood restored. "Come over and have a seat next to me. Quick, though; we're slowing down so we must be nearly there."
Alex stood up and wavered on his feet as the train slowed further. Mairead reached over and patted the seat next to her.
As soon as her hand touched the cushion, the lamps flickered and went out.
"What's happening?" came someone's voice in the dark - Mairead couldn't tell whose.
"Well, that's obvious," Sophie said acridly. "Tarot is the work of the devil, so he's coming for Alex's soul."
"Don't even joke," said Edgar quietly.
"Here, Alex," Mairead whispered, groping in the dark for Alex's arm. "Sit down."
She pulled Alex down beside her and tried to take some slow, deep breaths like Sister Mary Margaret had taught her to do when her anxiety spiked. For some reason she was experiencing an intense feeling of dread. Her heart was racing and the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up. With her hand still on Alex's arm, Mairead could feel him begin to tremble.
"Are we being attacked?" came Amanda's voice in the dark. "Is it Sirius Black?"
"Shh!" Sophie whispered urgently, but the question hung in the air, a dreadful possibility.
They all waited quietly in the dark, as though they had all come to an unspoken agreement to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible.
It won't work, Mairead thought desperately. Something's coming for us.
Just as her fear reached a fever pitch, she heard the sound of the compartment sliding open. Someone's breath hitched.
"It's me," a (possibly male?) voice whispered. "Stay down and stay quiet. Someone's getting on the train."
"Ansel?" Mairead breathed.
Before the voice could answer, a bone-chilling cold swept in through the open compartment door. Mairead's head began to swim, and even though it was pitch dark she felt as though her vision had gone cloudy.
It became difficult to breathe. Her stomach roiled like the train had pitched sideways. Scarcely aware of what was happening, she hazily lurched over to her left and vomited on the floor.
Her head was throbbing, but throwing up had cleared her head slightly, and as she breathed shakily trying to stem her nausea, she heard a rattling breathing coming from the direction of the door.
Mairead became aware of the sounds of quiet cries and whimpers all around her.
"Please stop. Please stop, Daddy. Please don't, please no," came a voice so tiny and weak it took Mairead a few seconds to realize it was Sophie.
Mairead could hear Edgar reciting the Lord's Prayer in a rushed whisper while beside her Alex whimpered for his mother.
Mairead became aware that she was hyperventilating too late to stop her head from clouding back over. With her last moment of coherence she threw her body over Alex's to shield him from whatever was hunting them in the darkness.
A blinding white light suddenly filled the compartment. Mairead looked up through screwed up eyes and saw a large, ghostly raven swooping at a tall, cloaked figure in the doorway. A Dementor. Repulsed by the raven, it turned and walked away. No, it didn't walk; it glided away.
She could see Ansel silhouetted by the light of the raven, his teeth bared and brow furrowed in concentration as he clutched his wand tightly. The raven flapped silently over Ansel before alighting on his extended forearm.
One by one, the lamps came back on with small poofs. Ansel sighed and lowered his wand and the raven disappeared.
Slowly, as if waking from a deep sleep, everyone in the compartment began to stir. Looking around, Mairead could see that everyone looked traumatized, and nearly everyone was in tears. She could also see that she was not the only one who had vomited.
She rose quickly and then had to clutch at the seat as a bout of lightheadedness rushed over her. She walked unsteadily to her trunk and pulled out her wand.
Everyone watched her silently as she vanished the puddles of sick. Pocketing her wand, Mairead walked over to where Nora, Sam, and Amanda were huddled together. She sat down and held her arms out and they all surged towards her, desperate for comfort. She felt a thump at her side and saw that Alex had joined them.
The train began to move and slowly picked up speed as Mairead whispered words of comfort to the teary younger children. She stroked their backs and heads lovingly while Sophie and Edgar tried to pull themselves together. Ansel was standing guard at the entrance to the compartment, his wand still in his fist.
Mairead cleared her throat, her mouth still tasting of acid. "Does anybody have any chocolate?" she asked hoarsely.
Before anyone could answer, there was a knock on the side of the compartment door. Mairead jumped violently and looked up to see a tall, slender man she had never seen before standing in the doorway.
"Pardon me for startling you," he said. "Is everyone all right in here?"
"We're fine, thank you, sir," said Ansel.
"Did I see a Patronus coming from this compartment?" the man asked.
"You did, sir," Ansel nodded. "I am of age, sir. I hope it's all right."
The man raised his eyebrows. "It's more than all right. It was very impressive. May I ask your name?"
"Ansel Williams, sir."
"Well done, Ansel," the man smiled slightly. Mairead noticed that he looked exhausted and rather peaky. "Now if you'll excuse me, I want to check on the other compartments," the man said, turning to go. "Do you need anything before I leave?"
"Do you have any chocolate?" asked Mairead. The man turned his attention to her.
Thinking back on it later that night as she cringed into her pillow, Mairead wasn't sure what about the man affected her the way it did, but something about his thoughtful, intelligent gaze on her made her start positively babbling.
"Because of the Dementor, I mean. I'm not, like, asking for a handout or anything. What I mean is, I don't just go around asking random strangers for candy. Not that you're a random stranger, because, like, you're probably going to teach here or something. Also I could pay you. For the chocolate, not for teaching here. I imagine Dumbledore does that."
Sophie had recovered enough by this time to fix Mairead with one of her signature What the actual fuck is wrong with you? looks. Mairead winced as self-awareness settled back around her.
The man, however, was not looking at her like she was the freak she felt like. His eyes twinkled and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"I'm afraid I've already given out all of the chocolate I had," he answered as though she had not just word vomited on him. "But I will speak to the lunch lady about having some Chocolate Frogs sent 'round."
Mairead nodded. "'Kay," she said quietly.
He considered her for another moment, his head tilted slightly to one side. "Good suggestion," he added, still smiling slightly. With that, he excused himself and left.
A brief, awkward silence ensued.
"Right," Mairead said in an attempt at being businesslike. "In the meantime, does anyone have any chocolate we can start with?"
Edgar stared at her for a second before saying, "I think I have some." He rummaged through the pile of empty wrappers next to him on the seat before pulling out one Chocolate Frog.
"I do, too," said Ansel, pulling a couple of Chocolate Frogs out of his pocket and handing them over to Mairead.
"Let's break them up into pieces and give them to this lot first," said Mairead, unwrapping one.
She, Ansel, and Edgar distributed pieces of chocolate to Nora, Alex, Sam, and Amanda, who immediately perked up.
Mairead could only ignore Sophie's raised eyebrow for so long. She finally turned and met the younger girl's gaze.
"Um, so what the fuck was that?" Sophie asked.
Mairead shrugged. "What the fuck is it ever with me?"
...
Remus rode the moving staircase up to the Headmaster's office. He rubbed a hand wearily over his face. The full moon had just been the previous night, and his entire body ached. The few hours' sleep he had gotten on the train were not nearly enough to allow him to recover.
When he reached the door at the top of the stairs, Remus knocked.
"Come in," he heard Professor Dumbledore call.
Remus turned the knob and entered Dumbledore's office. Not for the first time that day he was hit by a wave of nostalgia. The number of times he and his friends had been sent here... The room looked just the same, with perhaps a few more trinkets crowded onto the tables and shelves lining the circular room.
"You wanted to see me, Headmaster?" he asked.
"Yes, thank you for joining me after such a long evening, Remus," Dumbledore replied with a smile. "Please have a seat."
Dumbledore steepled his fingers and waited for Remus to be seated before he began.
"I wanted to bring your attention to a particular student," Dumbledore began.
Remus nodded. "I've already seen Harry, sir," he said. The boy looked so much like James it had made Remus catch his breath. The last time he had seen Harry his eyes were still the blue of babyhood. When he saw that Harry had inherited Lily's eyes and that they sparked with her same fire it had felt like being stabbed.
Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "I thought you may have," he said. "But in truth Harry is not the student I wanted to speak with you about. This student will be in class with you tomorrow, and I realized this evening that I have been remiss in telling you about her sooner."
"Oh?"
"Her name is Mairead O'Keefe," Dumbledore said.
"'O'Keefe'?" Remus repeated. "As in...?"
Dumbledore nodded gravely. "The same," he confirmed. "But you will very happily find that the family resemblance ends with the name. I wanted to speak with you because Miss O'Keefe will be auditing your class this year."
Remus's brow furrowed. "Auditing? I didn't realize that was an option."
"We have made an exception in this case. You see, Miss O'Keefe suffers from an unfortunate disability."
"I see," said Remus slowly. "May I ask what the nature of her disability is?"
"You may, indeed," Dumbledore replied. "Miss O'Keefe is a partial Squib. She is unable to perform either Defensive or Offensive magic. She can cast neither protective magic nor can she cast hexes, jinxes, or curses. I felt, however - and Professor Sprout, her Head of House, agrees with me - that it is important for her to be encouraged and enabled to keep up with her studies of Defense Against the Dark Arts, even though she cannot participate in any practical coursework or exams."
Remus nodded. "Absolutely," he agreed.
"Wonderful," Professor Dumbledore smiled. "Thank you for your willingness to make accommodations for her. I'm sure she will be immensely grateful."
Remus nodded, lost in thought.
"Is there anything more you wish to discuss about this situation, Remus?" Dumbledore prompted.
Remus shook his head. "It's just... the descendant of one of Voldemort's most notorious Death Eaters, completely without the ability to cast even a simple jinx..."
Dumbledore nodded, a grave expression on his face. "There is a grim irony to it," he acknowledged.
Remus nodded again. "Will that be all, sir?" he asked.
"Yes, thank you, Remus."
Remus smiled and rose to his feet.
"Oh, and Remus," Dumbledore called as Remus reached the door. Remus turned back.
"Yes, sir?"
"Welcome back to Hogwarts."