The next day was infinitely better than the previous day had been. For starters, it was Friday, September first having fallen on a Wednesday that year. Secondly, Mairead only had two classes on Friday, and they were two of her favorite classes. And third, when she sat down next to Cedric for breakfast that morning, a familiar owl landed in front of her.
"Hello, Barnaby!" she greeted the owl delightedly. She relieved the handsome Great Horned Owl of his letter and then retrieved some bacon for him from a nearby platter.
She opened the letter and scanned it enthusiastically.
"Who's it from?" asked Cedric through a mouthful of toast.
"My friend, Gus," she said. "He's in the Healer training program at St. Mungo's. He graduated a couple of years ago."
She drank her tea while reading all about Gus's training in cursed skin afflictions. When she finished, the owl flapped his wings and took off for a day's sleep in the Owlery. She would have to try to get a note written that day so she could send it back with Barnaby.
"What've you got today?" she asked Cedric.
"Arithmancy this morning, then Defense, then Herbology this afternoon. You?"
"Potions this morning, then free period, then Muggle Studies this afternoon. Then I think I'll go down to the library and talk to Madam Pince about setting up my work schedule this year."
Cedric pulled a face. "Potions first thing. You have my sympathies."
Mairead shook her head. "No, I actually like having it in the morning. My brain works better in the morning."
"Yeah, well you'll need all the brainpower you can get to survive Snape," Cedric said pessimistically. "Speaking of, looks like he's headed down." Cedric nodded up at the staff table, where Professor Snape was, indeed, standing up and saying his goodbyes to Professor Dumbledore.
Mairead looked at her watch. "Shit! I'd better dash."
With a final smile at Cedric tossed over her shoulder, Mairead jumped to her feet and hurried off in the direction of the dungeons.
Despite the fact that she was fairly certain she had left the Great Hall before Snape did, he had beaten her to the dungeon his classes were held in. Mairead checked her watch again and saw that she was still five minutes early, and released a breath.
She settled into a seat and waited quietly. Someone sat down next to her, and she turned to see Statia, who offered her a small smile and a "good morning." Mairead smiled quickly back, not wanting to be distracted.
The class settled in, but there was none of the fidgeting and cheerful pre-class banter that usually heralded the start of other classes. Rather, the students shifted nervously in their seats and all appeared to be holding their breath.
Professor Snape did not wish them a good morning before launching into a harsher version of the lecture that by now felt familiar to Mairead. "This year," he began softly, "is your final opportunity to prepare yourselves for the reality that awaits you once you graduate. Assuming you graduate," he added with a sneer. "In case you are all too ensconced in your petty rivalries and trivial love affairs to have noticed, life in the real world is not at all the sheltered existence you have come to enjoy within these four walls. There is no sympathetic hand holding out in society, and so to prepare you for that cold, hard reality, there will be no hand holding in this class from this point forward. If you put in the work and dedication every single day to prove to me that you deserve to keep your place in this class, then here you shall remain. But be warned: there are no second and third chances in here. If I am not utterly convinced of your commitment to the fine art of potion making, then your final lesson from me will be on how to find the door."
Snape flicked his wand, and instructions for the Draught of the Living Death appeared on the blackboard behind him. "This potion should be familiar to you all. You have fifty-five minutes."
Mairead immediately set to work. She smoothed out a piece of spare parchment, then aimed her wand at the blackboard. "Geminio verba," she muttered, then touched the tip of her wand to the parchment. All of the ingredients and instructions copied themselves to the parchment. Beside her, Statia gasped.
"How did you do that?" she asked incredulously.
"It's a Doubling Charm. I just modified it to make a copying charm for text," Mairead answered, getting to her feet. She took her list with her to the potions supply cupboard and gathered up what she would need.
When she returned to her desk, Statia was still copying down the ingredients list, writing as fast as she could. Mairead sighed. "Here," she said, handing over her parchment.
Statia beamed. "Thanks!" she said and hurried off to the cupboard.
Mairead made another copy for herself and got to work. First, she sharpened her knife using the whetstone attached to the edge of the table, then she read through the instructions once before continuing. The instructions said to cut up the Sopophorous Bean first, but Mairead noted that the ingredients in the next step had to sit for five minutes, so to use her time more efficiently she measured out the water she would need and bit her lip in concentration as she added the precise amount of African Sea Salt called for. Then she set about cutting up the Sopophorous Bean while the water sat. She leaned in close to make fine, precise cuts.
When she straightened up she noticed that Snape was standing at her desk, watching her work. She gulped. He would have seen that she skipped around in the instructions. Would this be sufficient to get her kicked out? She looked up at him anxiously, but Snape simply watched her work, said nothing, and continued on down the row of students. She heaved a sigh of relief.
Forty-five minutes later, Mairead was whispering a chant to herself as she stirred, "...Seven, eight, nine, ten. Clockwise: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Counterclockwise: one, two..." she reached her free hand up to wipe her sweaty hair out of her face. She would be livid if after all this work a drop of sweat fell into the potion and ruined it. When she got to eight, she stopped stirring and stared at her watch for two minutes. Slowly, almost reverently, she picked up a small piece of Valerian root she had prepared earlier. When the second hand on her watch got to thirty seconds, she held her breath and dropped the root into the cauldron. Nothing happened.
She sat stunned. No, she thought, this can't be. I did everything right. She closed her eyes and wiped a hand across her face in defeat. They had covered this last year. If she couldn't get this right, Snape would never allow her to continue on.
She opened her eyes to see if there was anything she could do to salvage the potion, and discovered that the potion was now the correct pale pink color.
She leaned back in her seat, closed her eyes, and started breathing heavily as though she had just run from one end of the castle to the other.
From the front of the class came Snape's silkily dangerous voice. "Your potions should be complete by now. Bottle them. Label them. Set them on my desk. If you are admitted back into this classroom on Wednesday then you will know your potion was successful."
Mairead hastened to bottle her potion and labelled it clearly with her name. She brought it to the front, but when she went to sit it on Snape's desk, he regarded her coldly and said, "Did you find an error in my instructions, Miss O'Keefe?"
Mairead froze, potion sample in hand. "N-no, sir," she said.
"And are you laboring under the delusion that, had your little modification not worked, you would have been permitted to remain in this class?" he said, his voice dangerously calm.
"No, sir."
"Then I suggest you leave the instructions to me, unless you feel that you can no longer benefit from my tutelage."
"Yes sir." Mairead said, then, "I mean no, sir! I mean - it won't happen again sir," she finished meekly.
"At last, we agree on something. It certainly will not happen again if you intend to be permitted to stay in this class."
Mairead nodded so frantically she made herself dizzy. "I understand, sir. Thank you, sir."
She turned to leave and was halfway out of the class before she realized she was still clutching her sample in her sweaty hands. She darted back to the front of the room and sat her potion down with a timid glance at Snape, who watched her clownishness in cold silence.
She positively fled the classroom and didn't slow down until she had left the dungeons behind.
...
Muggle Studies that afternoon was a much calmer affair. The students who stuck with Muggle Studies through Seventh Year were few, and so Professor Burbage had decided to combine them into one class. It was a much more casual atmosphere than any of Mairead's other classes, and the students spent most of their first lesson talking about encounters they had had with the Muggle world over the summer and brainstorming ideas for special projects in Muggle Studies.
Mairead found the Muggle world to be a fascinating and wondrous place. Far from the disdain that most wizards felt for Muggles, Mairead was amazed by the innovation and inventiveness displayed by Muggles who didn't have magic to solve their problems. It was like an entire society of Squibs, not only surviving but thriving with the modifications they had come up with to make their lives easier.
One of Mairead's favorite hobbies (though she did walk a fine line of legality) was creating magical versions of Muggle technology. So far she had not had too much success, but tinkering cleared her mind and put her at peace in a way nothing else could.
While she relished the intense challenge of Potions class, she loved it because it required such focus that all other thoughts and emotions were crowded out of her brain. By contrast, both Muggle Studies and Herbology were peaceful subjects that were almost meditative in a way.
Mairead was feeling refreshed and invigorated by the time she left the classroom, and after visiting the library to set up her work schedule with Madam Pince, she was also feeling the satisfaction of productivity.
Her first shift at the library would be that evening, so she headed to the Great Hall for dinner, then ran up to her dorm room to grab some books before reporting to the Information Desk at the library. One of the fringe benefits of working in the library was being able to get homework done while being paid.
Mairead settled into the chair behind the desk and spread her Transfiguration textbook out in front of her. Friday evenings were nearly always quiet, and she was deeply absorbed in her note-taking when she heard someone say her name. She looked up to see Professor Lupin standing near the doorway to the library.
"Oh! Hi, Professor Lupin," she greeted him. Be normal, be normal, be normal, she chanted in her head.
"Do you work here?" asked Lupin.
"Yep. This is my third year," she said proudly. "Working here, not at school. I'm a Seventh Year," she added, unable to stop the cascade of stupidity that flowed from her lips. Lupin's mouth twitched.
"Ah," he said. He seemed like he wanted to say something else to her, but at that moment a Third Year Gryffindor girl with bushy brown hair came up to the desk.
"Hey, Hermione," Mairead warmly greeted the girl, who was a regular of the library, grateful for someone to distract her from her own behavior.
"Oh, hello, Mairead," Hermione responded, looking flustered. "Can you please help me? I'm looking for a particular book and it's not where the card catalog said it would be on the shelf."
Mairead looked back up at Professor Lupin and began to apologize, but he waved a hand. "Nice to see you, Mairead," he said, and strolled off into the stacks.
Mairead's face felt slightly warm as she stood up and followed Hermione.
...
Mairead's alarm woke her in the small hours of the morning in mid-September. She forced herself to sit up right away and rub the sleep from her eyes, knowing she might fall back asleep if she remained horizontal.
She shivered as her feet touched the floor. There was only one person she would voluntarily get up this early for. And traditions were traditions.
She pulled on her clothes and shuffled out to the Common Room. She saw that Cedric was already there, looking annoyingly alert.
He grinned when he saw her. "Ready?" he asked.
Mairead returned his grin despite her sleepiness. "You bet."
They didn't speak as they set off, focusing instead on walking quietly so as not to alert Mrs. Norris or anyone else to their presence. It was a long walk to the Astronomy Tower from the Hufflepuff Basement, and Mairead was feeling awake and excited by the time Cedric stepped forward and opened the doorway to the final, spiral staircase.
They scaled the steps, one after the other, then opened the door at the top of the narrow stairway and stepped out into the mild, fall morning.
"Excellent," said Mairead, pointing at the eastern horizon. "We got here just in time."
"Perfect," Cedric replied. He took off his cloak, spread it out on the floor of the tower, then settled down on it. Mairead joined him, grateful for the cloak to cut the chill of the stones.
She leaned against his shoulder, and the two watched the horizon in contented silence for a few minutes. Eventually, Mairead looked up at Cedric.
"Happy birthday," she murmured.
Cedric smiled warmly down at her. "Thanks."
"Sixteen!" Mairead said with a sigh. "What are you going to wish for?"
Cedric shrugged. "Sixteen shags?" he suggested.
Mairead snorted and rolled her eyes. "Sixteen chances to get an O.W.L. in Potions?" she counter-offered.
"Sixteen Million Galleons?"
"Sixteen Firebolts?"
"Well, now, that's just wasteful," said Cedric. "Realistically I'd only need seven."
"What about one for me?" she asked indignantly.
Cedric let out a laugh. "The day you willingly get on a broomstick is the day hell freezes over."
Mairead hummed in agreement.
"I dunno," Cedric said more seriously now. "I guess I'd just like to be able to... live life on my own terms."
Mairead waited in silence for him to continue.
"My dad... he's so proud of me. Which is great," he added quickly, "but sometimes I wonder if all this stuff - the Prefect stuff and the Quidditch Captain stuff... I wonder if it's for me. Or if it's just..." He trailed off.
"What's expected of you," Mairead guessed quietly.
"Yeah," Cedric agreed. "Sometimes I wonder whether I do the things I do because I want them or because he wants them for me. He believes in me so fiercely. I don't want to let him down. But of course," he added after a few pensive moments. "That's where things get messy."
Mairead wrapped both of her arms around one of Cedric's and hugged him close. "Your dad would love you no matter what," she said. "You could fail out tomorrow. You could hand in your Prefect badge to Professor Sprout and tell her to put Peeves in charge. You could smash your broomstick and say you're done playing Quidditch."
Cedric winced at this last comment and Mairead knew that Quidditch, at least, was something Cedric really was passionate about.
"Your parents love you," she went on. "So much. Nothing's going to change that."
"I suppose so," Cedric murmured.
"So why not just wish for what would make you happy and just... see what happens?"
Cedric smiled ever-so-slightly. He placed his hand over one of hers and squeezed it once, then twice. "I will love you forever," he murmured.
"Right back at you."
Mairead glanced up. "Now's your chance," she whispered. She let go of Cedric's arm with one hand and pointed at the horizon, where the very first sunbeam was painting the sky orange.
"Sixteen wishes," she whispered. "Go."
Cedric squeezed his eyes shut, a smile playing around his mouth. "Keep count for me?" he asked, eyes still closed.
"Always," Mairead answered. "Okay: one."
...
The rest of September passed in a blur. Between classes and homework, work in the library for money, and work in the Greenhouses for dual extra credit in Herbology and Potions, Mairead found that she needed to keep a detailed to-do list in order to budget the time to do things like shower and floss her teeth.
To her infinite surprise, Mairead found that what had been her least favorite class for all six previous years at Hogwarts was quickly climbing in her estimation. Professor Lupin was clever and thoughtful, he had a dry sense of humor that Mairead loved, and in just a few weeks had proven himself to be an excellent teacher. His lectures were engaging, fun, and accessible, he never condescended or made Mairead feel stupid, and, most surprisingly, not once had he made her feel like she didn't belong in the class.
In previous practical Defense lessons, Mairead had either been told to try her best to squeeze some magic out, been asked to leave, or had been left sitting at the back of the classroom twiddling her thumbs while the other students practiced all around her. Professor Lupin, however, had found a clever solution to what to do with Mairead during practical lessons that not only did not make her feel useless, but on the contrary made her feel like she actually had something to offer: he made her his teaching assistant.
During practical lessons, Mairead followed Professor Lupin as he assisted the other students. At first she had just shadowed him, watching him assess and advise the other students, but after the first few lessons he had started asking her opinion on how the students could improve. Initially she had been hesitant with her suggestions, and despite their best efforts to hide their disdain, many of her classmates had not been fans of having a Squib coach them. But Lupin had insisted that she knew more than she was giving herself credit for, and her confidence - and her classmates' confidence in her - grew as she began to see improvements based on her suggestions.
She blossomed under the encouragement and praise of Professor Lupin, and found herself eagerly looking forward to his classes, as much for the self-esteem boost as for the interesting subject matter and the not-insignificant pleasure she experienced interacting with Professor Lupin.
Which was why it sucked so much when she forgot to bring her essay to class one day.
It was the first full week in October, and Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were finishing up a Double Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Mairead was looking forward to taking a stroll around the grounds after class. She stole a quick look past Ansel out the window, looking forward to smelling the dried leaves and hearing them crunch under her feet, when she heard Professor Lupin dismiss the class.
"Nice work, all of you! If you would please leave your Inferi essays here on my desk, I will grade them and get them back to you next week."
Mairead reached down into her bag to retrieve her essay. Frowning, she pulled her bag onto her lap and rummaged through it. Suddenly, as if one of the Muggle films she loved so much were playing in her mind, she could see herself earlier that morning: kneeling beside her trunk, struggling to fit everything she needed into her bag. She had pulled out her Inferi essay to avoid tearing the parchment while she shoved things around, placed it on her bed, thought blithely to herself, I'll definitely remember to grab it before I go, and then stood up and walked out of the room, essay forgotten on her bed.
And scene.
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
A sudden quiet brought Mairead back to the present. The entire class had fallen silent. Students were paused halfway out of their seats. Some were craning around to look at her. Statia had frozen partway through placing her essay on Lupin's desk and was looking at her, an expression of shock on her face. A dreadful thought filled Mairead's mind.
"Did... I say that out loud?" she asked no one in particular.
"You- you sure did," Ansel answered, looking for all the world as if she had just managed to exceed even his expectations for how outlandish she could be.
Mairead forced herself to look at Lupin, wide-eyed and horrified. "Sorry," she said in a tiny voice. Lupin looked politely surprised, but not angry.
"Is anything the matter?" he asked.
"I forgot my essay in my dorm room. I did write it!" she insisted. "But I accidentally forgot to put it in my bag."
"Why don't you go and fetch it and bring it to my office?" Lupin suggested. "If you get it to me by the end of this evening I won't mark it as late."
"Thank you so much, sir! I'll go get it right now!" Mairead jumped to her feet and walked hastily out of the classroom, head down so that she wouldn't have to make eye contact with anyone.
Once she got out into the corridor she broke into a full-out run. She barreled down the three flights of stairs to the basement where the Hufflepuff dorms were located. She sprinted along the corridors, skidding around corners until she finally arrived at the familiar pile of barrels. She reached out towards the middle barrel in the second from the bottom row and tapped rhythmically on it to open it. Mairead hurtled along the passageway to the common room and sprinted through it, throwing a hasty wave at the cacti along the way. Once in her room she seized the essay, threw her bag onto her bed to shed the extra weight, and spun around and headed back in the direction she came from.
By the time she had scaled the stairs back to the second floor and had arrived in the second floor corridor where Lupin's office was located, Mairead was so out of breath that black spots were swimming in front of her eyes. She leaned over double to try to catch her breath, but it only gave her a coughing fit.
Straightening up, she walked the final distance to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office and knocked, still out of breath.
"Come in," she heard Professor Lupin call.
It looked as though Professor Lupin himself had only gotten back to his office a few moments ago. His battered old briefcase was laying atop a pile of papers on his desk, Lupin's thick brown hair was mussed and his robes were draped over the back of his arm as though he had just presently pulled them off.
Nevertheless, he smiled brightly and said, "Hello, Mairead!" when he saw her in the doorway.
"I have the essay," she said breathlessly, holding it up. "I'm so sorry I forgot to bring it to class."
"Oh, thanks very much. Here, I'll take it now," he said, walking towards her and holding out a hand.
Mairead handed it over. "Sorry," she said again.
"Actually, I'm glad you're here," said Professor Lupin. "I've been wanting to talk with you."
Mairead's stomach dropped. "Oh? Why?" Was he going to kick her out of class after all?
"Here, please have a seat," he said gesturing. Mairead perched on the edge of the proffered seat uncertainly while Lupin sat on the opposite side of the desk. "How would you like to earn some extra credit?" he asked.
Mairead's eyebrows shot up. "How?" She couldn't quite keep the suspicion out of her thoughts or her voice.
"I'm having some... difficulty with my First Years," he said. "They seem to lack certain skills, and I thought of you."
Mairead felt like she'd been stabbed. Was he seriously comparing her to a bunch of First Years? She tried not to let her hurt feelings show on her face.
"Your First Years' lack of skills made you think of me?"
Lupin seemed to realize how that had sounded. "No, no, I'm sorry, you misunderstand me," he chuckled. "What I mean to say is, I've just had their first essays back, and I got the impression that they may not understand how to use an encyclopedia, or the index in the back of their textbook. The reason I thought of you is because you work in the library."
"They don't have any information literacy skills," said Mairead.
"That's what I suspect," Lupin confirmed. "I was wondering if you might be interested in helping me teach them some very basic research skills. How to look something up, how cross-references work, et cetera."
"Yeah, absolutely!" Mairead said at once. Lupin beamed at her.
"Excellent!" he said, "And like I said, you could absolutely get extra credit for helping me out."
Mairead smiled humorlessly at him. "I don't get credit for your class, sir." He winced.
"I'd forgotten about that," he admitted. "Hmm. Well, I'll figure out some way to compensate you for your time."
"You don't have to do that," said Mairead, shaking her head. "I'd be happy to help just to, you know. Help."
"Well, that would be lovely," said Professor Lupin. "Thank you very much, Mairead. I'll set something up and let you know when I have things organized."
Mairead smiled. "Yeah, okay. Sounds good."
She stood to go, and then, remembering what had brought her here in the first place, turned back. "Oh, and Professor Lupin?"
"Yes?"
"I'm really sorry. You know, about the whole..." she trailed off awkwardly.
Lupin waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, please don't worry about it. You brought your essay to me right after class. In fact, you almost beat me here, so it's not like you were off finishing it up in a hurry."
"No, I mean... for the other... thing." she said, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth and gnawing on it nervously.
"Oh, that," Lupin said with a wry smile. Was it just her imagination, or did he have a wicked glint in his eye?
"I wouldn't worry about it. Everybody fucks up from time to time."
...
Author's Note: Thank you all for reading! I hope you are enjoying it so far! I know this is a shorter chapter, but it was either that or make an absurdly long chapter, and I liked ending it where I did. Some of my favorite Remus moments in the books are when he's teasing Harry, so I wanted to make sure that that part of his personality came through in this story. Anyway, let me know what you think, if you're so inclined!
The song for this chapter is, "That's How You Know," by Nico and Vinz. If you're familiar with it, you know it reflects Mairead's embarrassment at the end of this chapter. :)