As it was wont to do around Hogwarts, the news soon spread about Mairead's and Professor Lupin's workshop with the First Years. From what got back to Mairead, it had gone over well. So well, in fact, that Mairead was finding herself quite busy during her shifts at the library. This was partially because many of the First Years now came to her for homework help, and partially due to the fact that Professors Flitwick and McGonagall had asked for her work schedule at the library so that they could direct students to seek her out.
Professor Sprout even asked Mairead to speak to her Herbology class one day about how to search for information in the library. Feeling put on the spot, Mairead had mumbled vaguely about subject headings and the card catalog while her classmates' eyes glazed over.
For her part, Mairead had decided that Professor Lupin was unequivocally her favorite teacher. He was kind, thoughtful, and intelligent, she loved his teaching style, and the two had developed a warm camaraderie in the weeks following their workshop. Mairead would smile brightly and wave to him whenever she saw him in the corridors, and he always greeted her by name when she arrived at class and took the time to stop and chat with her for a few minutes whenever he visited the library during her shifts. Although he taught her least favorite subject, she resolved to work harder than ever to do well in Defense classes.
There was one person, though, who did not seem at all impressed by her collaboration with Professor Lupin. Professor Snape seemed to have a deep dislike of his colleague, perhaps because everyone knew how badly Snape wanted Lupin's job. Snape had never exactly been warm and fuzzy towards Mairead, but she had always felt that he had been at least somewhat fair. She was passionate about the study of potion making, and while Snape had certainly never taken her under his wing by any means, he had rewarded her hard work with high grades, and she had often been spared the worst of his bad temper.
Now, however, Mairead felt as though her immunity to Professor Snape's penchant for cruelty and vitriol had been revoked. As October went on, Mairead frequently found herself on the receiving end of Snape's invective. He even went so far as to dock points from Statia when the girl asked for Mairead's help with a research project at the start of Potions class one day. Mairead found herself working frantically so as not to give Snape any reason to touch her grades.
In spite of Snape's reversal in attitude towards her, Mairead felt that there had been a net gain in the general consensus about her at school, and as she entered the last week of October, her confidence and spirits were higher than they had ever been.
On the Thursday afternoon before Halloween, Mairead walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and greeted Professor Lupin with her usual sunny smile and wave, but before she could say hello to him she was accosted by Amanda, whose class had just let out.
"Oh, good," said Amanda by way of greeting. "I need your help."
"Lay it on me," Mairead said.
She and Ansel had always been amused by Amanda, who could be bossy and demanding and extremely difficult to please. Mairead found Amanda's lack of self-consciousness to be adorable, even though it could rub people the wrong way. "She's kind of like a mini-Sophie," Ansel remarked once.
Amanda launched in without preamble. "Okay, so I'm writing this essay that's about this thing that happened, and this guy? He witnessed what happened and he wrote about it. Are you following me?" she demanded.
Mairead blinked and answered slowly, "Yes, though I don't quite see how..."
She heard a quiet snort and shot a glance over at Professor Lupin, who looked like he was trying not to smile as he swapped materials in and out of his briefcase between classes.
"Anyway," Amanda continued seriously, completely unaware of Mairead's teasing. "I'm quoting the guy in the essay, and I'm saying his name and that he said the thing I'm quoting, so I don't have to do a citation for that, do I?"
"Yes, you still do," Mairead said at once.
Amanda clicked her tongue impatiently and gave Mairead an incredulous look. "But why?" she demanded. "I'm already crediting him!"
"You still need to cite your sources," said Mairead. "An in-text citation is great, but your Sources Cited list gives your professor more information on where you found the quotation, the context surrounding it, and where they can go to look at it themselves if they want to."
Amanda rolled her eyes and sighed loudly. "Okay, fine, what if I use the quote but just don't say who it's from?"
"You mean what if you just include a random quotation and provide zero context for where it comes from?" Mairead clarified.
Amanda scowled. "Well, when you put it like that..."
"You have to cite your sources. Look, I'm working in the library Friday night and all day Saturday. If you want help with your essay, just bring it to the library and I'll gladly help you with your citations," Mairead offered.
Amanda thought for a moment. "Okay, what if I don't put the quotation marks in and I just use the quote?"
"You mean what if you pass off someone else's thoughts and words as your own?" Mairead turned to Professor Lupin. "Do they still expel students for plagiarism around here?"
Professor Lupin looked up. His eyes were dancing with amusement. It was obvious he had been listening to their entire conversation, which granted, had been taking place right in front of his desk. "I doubt Professor Dumbledore would permit the expulsion of a Second Year," he said thoughtfully, "but depending on the teacher I could definitely see them failing the student for breaking the honor code."
"I wouldn't be plagiarizing!" Amanda insisted. "I could change the quote so it wasn't word-for-word."
"That's still intellectual theft," Mairead responded. "Unless you cite your sources."
Amanda scoffed. "I don't know why I even asked you, May-Reed," she said acidly.
Mairead put her hands up in mock surrender. "If you don't like my peaches, don't shake my tree." With that, she turned and walked away. She was positive she could hear Lupin laughing as she walked to her desk and sat down.
They had a very entertaining class on Chameleon Ghouls, and Mairead even shared a laugh and a few smiles with Statia. She felt as though a tiny bud of friendship was poking up through the ground.
Professor Lupin released the class ten minutes early, and wished them all a happy time in Hogsmeade.
Mairead gathered up her things and was waving goodbye to Lupin when he said, "Do you really have to work all day on Saturday?"
She paused by his desk. "Yep."
Lupin frowned. "That's too bad. It's a Hogsmeade weekend and it's Halloween."
Mairead shrugged. "I don't mind it. I like working there."
"Well, at least you'll get to go to the feast."
Mairead made a face. "I'm there until close, and we close at nine."
Professor Lupin looked dismayed. "How on earth did you get stuck with that?" he asked with another frown. "It's your last Halloween feast. Don't you have seniority of some sort?"
"Well," Mairead slowly admitted, "Yes, I do have seniority because I've worked there the longest... but I traded shifts with someone so that I could have another night off instead."
Lupin raised an eyebrow. "Well, I certainly hope whatever night you took off was worth it."
Mairead looked at the ground and shuffled her feet awkwardly. "I guess that sort of depends."
"On?"
Mairead looked up at him hesitantly. "How are your First Years doing?"
Professor Lupin looked stunned. "The workshop," he said.
Mairead bit her lip and said nothing.
"You were scheduled to work that night."
She nodded.
Professor Lupin sighed. "You traded Halloween so you could have the night off to help me?"
Suddenly feeling very shy, Mairead wouldn't look at him but quietly admitted, "Maybe."
"But why?" he asked quietly.
"Because you asked me to."
There was a long silence. Mairead stared determinedly at the ground, too anxious to meet Lupin's eye. He sounded unhappy with her, and she couldn't bear the thought. Finally, Lupin spoke.
"I don't know what to say," he admitted. "Thank you. That feels paltry - but thank you."
"It's not a big deal," she mumbled. "You're not mad at me, are you?"
She heard him sigh again. "Of course I'm not mad at you," he said softly.
Mairead still couldn't look at him. She had suddenly become acutely aware of something that she just realized had been growing inside her for some time now and was terrified that Lupin would be able to see it in her face if she met his gaze. She needed to get out of there so she could process.
"Okay," she said, feeling like an awkward ostrich staring at the ground. "Well, 'bye then."
Without waiting for his farewell, Mairead turned and hurried out of his classroom and took off straight for her tree by the lake.
She was hit with a gush of autumnal air as soon as she got outside, and she gulped down large lungfuls of it. She took long steps and walked hastily towards the lake, trying to clear her head.
She felt hugely conflicted. Last year when everyone was falling all over themselves about Professor Lockhart, Mairead had vacillated between feeling amused and irked by her fellow classmates. She had thought many of them silly and shallow to fall for someone so bombastic, self-absorbed, and incompetent, and she had thought them foolish and naive for developing a crush on a teacher - the pinnacle of unattainability.
Professor Lupin wasn't bombastic at all; he was gentle and contemplative, with a quiet intelligence that he didn't need to show off for everyone to see how brilliant he was. He cared about all of his students, and, in addition to being a highly capable teacher, it was clear to Mairead from the times she had seen him perform magic that he was an exceptionally skilled wizard. No, Mairead reasoned, Lupin wasn't at all like Lockhart.
But he was a teacher.
"This is ridiculous," Mairead fumed at herself, throwing herself down on the ground beside her tree.
How had this happened? He was a teacher! Of Defense Against the Dark Arts, for Merlin's sake! A teacher with dark grey eyes and a gentle purr of a voice. A teacher who talked with his hands whenever he got onto a topic he was particularly interested in. A teacher with a wickedly clever, dry sense of humor who could shock his class into laughing just when the subject matter was getting to weigh too heavily on them. A teacher with a smile that made her feel weak at the knees.
Mairead knocked the back of her head against the tree trunk in frustration.
"Fuck! This is ridiculous!" she said again, gritting her teeth in frustration. "How the fuck am I supposed to deal with this?!"
You're not, her brain told her. Just ignore it. You'll get over it.
Mairead took a deep breath, contemplating this.
It's just a silly, temporary infatuation, she reasoned with herself. You just like him because he's nice to you. You talked yourself into this; you can talk yourself out.
Mairead sighed, feeling more relaxed. "Don't lose focus," she whispered to herself, and started a mantra in her head.
I do not have a crush on my teacher. I do not have a crush on my teacher. I do NOT have a crush on my teacher.
...
Remus felt horrible. It was Saturday afternoon, he had a pile of papers to mark up, his fascinating new grindylow was baring its teeth and shaking its fist at him as Remus paced back and forth past its tank, and all Remus could think about was Mairead O'Keefe. Mairead, who was so sweet-natured and eager to help anyone who came to her. Mairead, whose painful awkwardness and unfortunate tendency to babble Remus found heartbreakingly endearing. Mairead, who so often looked like a kicked dog when she thought nobody was watching.
Mairead, who was currently sitting in the library on her last, first Hogsmeade weekend and who would be working clear through her last Halloween feast at Hogwarts.
Because you asked me to.
Not even a visit from Harry had served to raise Remus's spirits. Remus had been trying to maintain some professional distance from Harry, though he couldn't deny that he had a soft spot for the boy. Harry positively burned with the dual fires of courage and potential for greatness that James had had, and yet he was self-effacing and conscientious in a way Remus had to admit James never had been. That part was all Lily.
Lily would have thought to check Mairead's calendar before scheduling something, he thought bitterly to himself. She was always thoughtful like that.
One thing was certain. He couldn't just stand here all day feeling guilty. He had to do something.
But what?
He decided to go for a walk through the castle to ponder this.
Being back at Hogwarts was the most painful kind of ecstasy. The relief he felt - at having a steady job, at knowing where his next meal was coming from, at having free access to the Wolfsbane Potion, at long last being home - was constantly tempered by agonizing grips of memory that would overtake him with the least provocation.
Remus looked up from his reverie and realized that his feet had carried him to the entrance to the Hufflepuff Common Room. He chuckled softly, remembering how he, Peter, and Padfoot had once sneaked into the Hufflepuff quarters on the eve of a consequential Quidditch match and dyed all the Quidditch players' hair pure white while they slept. When the Hufflepuff team had emerged from their changing rooms the next morning looking like livid geriatrics James had laughed so hard that he told them later he thought he was going to burst a kidney. Remus smiled to himself - always happy and sad at the same time - and moved on.
He paused in front of a still life of a bowl of fruit. The entrance to the kitchens was hidden behind the portrait, and his mouth began to water from the scent of the delicious foods already being prepared inside. He recalled how many times he and his friends had gained entry into the kitchens for some late-night snacking. He still remembered how to get inside.
He looked up sharply.
Wait a minute...
...
Remus walked into the library, carrying an enormous covered platter. He had trouble containing his grin when he saw Mairead at the desk. She hadn't seen him yet. Her head was bowed over a piece of parchment she was writing on, and her thick red curls formed a curtain around her, obscuring him from view.
When he was nearly at the desk she glanced up to scan the library.
She's very jumpy, he thought when she started at the sight of him, her eyes wide in surprise. Nevertheless, her face broke into a wide smile and she sat up straighter in her chair.
"Well, of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world," she said as a greeting.
"I walk into yours," he finished. "You like that film a lot, don't you?"
"What makes you say that?" she asked curiously. "Also you've seen it?"
"That's the second time you've referenced it," he replied, then, with a grin, "Also yes, I've seen it. A few times."
"I didn't know you liked films!" she said delightedly.
"I do," Remus confirmed. Then, recalling an earlier conversation they had had in the library, he added. "Actually, there's a film version of To Kill a Mockingbird, too, you know."
Mairead brightened instantly. "Really?" she asked excitedly.
He smiled. "One of my favorites. Do you like films, then?"
Mairead nodded enthusiastically. "I love them! I've seen loads of them, but not that one. We watch them all the time at St. Hedwig's. You know, for the Muggleborn kids. They try to make them feel at home, so we have movie nights and listen to Muggle music and stuff. There's even a nun who knows how to drive and she'll teach anyone who wants to learn! She taught me over the summer and I'm going to take the exam next summer so I can have an official Muggle license and everything!" Mairead suddenly broke off and blinked at him. "Wait - I'm sorry! You're just standing there holding a giant tray! Do you need help? Also, why are you holding a giant tray?"
Remus grinned, feeling enormously pleased with himself. "It's for you."
Mairead's brow furrowed. "For me? What is it?"
"Here, make a space on your desk," he said walking the remaining distance over to her.
She quickly cleared away her books and writing supplies and pushed herself away from the desk to make room for him.
Remus leaned past her and set the tray down on her desk. "Are you ready?" he asked, laying a hand over the cover.
She smiled apprehensively. "I don't know. Am I?"
"Oh," Remus said smugly, "I think you are." He whisked the cover off the tray and stood back to gauge Mairead's reaction.
Her jaw dropped.
In front of her sat a tray laden with everything that would be served at the feast that evening. Remus watched her happily as her eyes roved over the meats, vegetables, potatoes, breads, pies, and sweets heaped before her. She looked up at Remus, speechless.
"Oh, and I almost forgot," Remus said, reaching into his cloak. He pulled out two bottles and set them down on the desk. "One is pumpkin juice and one is butterbeer," he explained. "I figured I would get you both, since I didn't know which one you preferred, and since you also missed a trip to the Three Broomsticks today."
Mairead looked at the bottles, still gaping. "I - how -" she tried. She swallowed and shook her head. "Why?"
"I couldn't let you miss your last Halloween feast because of me," Remus said. "Since you can't go to the feast, I brought the feast to you."
Mairead still looked positively gobsmacked, and Remus felt a surge of melancholy fondness for her. When was the last time someone did something nice for her? he wondered.
She finally recovered herself slightly. "Thank you," she said, looking up at him sincerely. "Seriously. I - this is - this is incredible. Thank you."
He nodded, satisfied. "Well, I hope you enjoy it," he said, beginning to move away.
"Wait!" she cried.
"What's wrong?" asked Remus, turning back.
"You're not going to have some, too?" she asked.
"Mairead, it's for you," he explained patiently.
She laughed. "Professor Lupin, there's enough food here for, like, six people!" she said, gesturing at the mountain of food before her. "You can't just leave."
Remus put his hands into his pockets and considered the feast. "Well, I didn't know what you liked best," he explained. "So I asked for a little bit of everything."
"Well, we'll split it," she said. She poked around at the food delicately. "Look, there are even two sets of silverware," she added, holding up two forks.
Remus raised an eyebrow. "Presumptuous House Elves," he muttered.
"It's a sign," Mairead said, looking resolved. "You have to share it with me." Her eyes widened self-consciously. "I mean, you don't have to do anything. I didn't mean to tell you what to do. I was just inviting you. If you're hungry. Which you might not be. Or maybe you are. But like, it's your body and you know best. Also if you're busy or you want to leave or -"
Remus held up a hand to stop her. "I would love to join you, if you'd like the company."
Mairead visibly relaxed and beamed at him. "There's a chair over there!" she said pointing.
Remus fetched the chair and sat down beside her. She handed him a set of silverware and a napkin, then set a salt and pepper shaker between them.
"Wow, they really thought of everything, didn't they?" she remarked.
They tucked in and ate together in companionable silence for a few minutes. When Remus reached for another roll, he noticed a book laying off to the side of the desk where she had shoved her things.
"You're reading David Copperfield?" he asked with a grin.
She smiled shyly. "I had to choose a Muggle novel to read and you said this one was good."
"So I take it you are in Muggle Studies?"
"It's one of my favorite classes!" she said with a wide smile. Remus returned her smile.
"What are your other favorites?" he asked curiously.
"Herbology and Potions," she said promptly. Then, as though worried she had offended him, she hastened to add, "Yours is good too, though!"
Remus chuckled. "Thanks, Mairead."
Remus had to admit that Mairead was right: the two ate as much as they possibly could and they scarcely made a dent in the tray of food.
After they finished eating, Remus decided to stay and chat with Mairead for a few minutes. He found he enjoyed her company a great deal. She was intensely shy and self-conscious, but he patiently waited out her self-deprecation and gradually she lowered her defenses for him. He discovered that, once she was comfortable with him, she was splendid to talk with. She had a zany sense of humor and a gift for storytelling, and had him laughing with tales of her life at St. Hedwig's. She was curious about him too, and listened avidly to everything he had to say.
Normally Remus found it best to keep conversations like this trained on the other person, in order to guard against revealing information that could ultimately lead to the discovery of his condition. Usually a well-placed question was all it took to get people rambling on about themselves, but once she answered his questions Mairead always found a way to draw him back into the conversation, and he found himself telling her more about himself than he had intended to. Stranger still, somehow he couldn't quite bring himself to regret letting his guard down around her.
The clock on the wall chimed and Remus was shocked to find that he had stayed and talked with her for over an hour. He was even more surprised to realize that he didn't want to leave.
Reluctantly, he turned to her to make his excuses, but she simply guessed, "You've got to go?"
"I'm afraid I've taken up far more of your time than I intended to," he admitted.
The girl's eyes widened. "No, my time is fine," she insisted. "I hope I didn't throw off your day or anything. You've got to be really busy."
Remus shook his head. "Not at all. This has been lovely. Thank you for inviting me to stay, but I really should be going."
Mairead nodded. "Happy Halloween, Professor Lupin," she said sweetly as he rose to his feet.
He returned his chair to its rightful place and smiled at her. "Happy Halloween, Mairead."
...
I do not have a crush on my teacher, Mairead chanted in her head. The man she absolutely did not have a crush on turned and walked to the door, hands in his pockets.
I do not have a crush on my teacher, Maired recited internally as he turned back to her when he reached the doorway.
"Oh," he said, "I forgot one last thing." He pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it towards Mairead. Mairead flailed as it sailed past her left ear.
I do not have a crush on my teacher, Mairead berated herself as she turned to pick a large bar of Honeydukes chocolate up from the ground. She held it up.
"You do not have to give me this!" she insisted, unable to keep the smile off her face.
Lupin shrugged. "Sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "You've got to eat chocolate on Halloween. I don't make the rules."
With a final, cheeky smile, he turned and left.
Mairead stared at the door for a few moments after he had gone, heart fluttering, willing him to come back for something, anything, just for another moment so she could see him again.
Mairead collapsed into her chair and looked at the bar of chocolate.
Shit, she thought. I have a crush on my teacher.
...
Remus stood up from his seat at the High Table. He hadn't had much room for the proper feast after his afternoon meal with his student, but he had nevertheless enjoyed a lively conversation with Filius Flitwick (so strange to call his old professor by his given name), and was looking forward to retiring to bed with a book and a cup of tea.
He was strolling along at an unhurried pace with the other teachers, listening to Professor Dumbledore regale Professor McGonagall with the tale of a prank he had played during a Halloween feast when he was a student at Hogwarts.
"...And of course the staff didn't know I had charmed their heads to look like jack-o'-lanterns, so they hadn't a clue why all of the students were laughing," Dumbledore chuckled. McGonagall looked as though she didn't know whether to laugh or to disapprove.
Dumbledore turned to Remus to bring him into the conversation. "Not that my youthful pranking could hold a candle to some of the antics other esteemed members of this staff got up to," he said mildly, periwinkle eyes twinkling.
Remus had the grace to look abashed and opened his mouth to reply, but broke off at the sound of a commotion up ahead, as yet out of earshot of those with ordinary hearing, but coming closer.
"Remus?" McGonagall said.
"Wait," was all she got in response. Then: "Something's wrong."
Just then Lee Jordan and George Weasley came tearing around the corner. Lee waved his arms in the air when he saw them and George shouted, "Help! We need help in Gryffindor Tower!"
...
Mairead passed through the rest of her shift in a dream. Absolutely nobody had come into the library all day, not even Hermione Granger, who was apparently taking every subject at the school, which Mairead didn't even know was possible. Nobody had come in, that is, aside from Professor Lupin.
He had come to see her. He had brought her food and shared a meal with her. He thought of her outside of class. The thought was too sweet to look at directly.
She was still floating when she extinguished the lamps at the end of the night. The sound of footsteps sprinting towards the library roused her focus and brought her back to reality.
"Sorry," she called over her shoulder as she locked the door with her wand. "We just cl-"
The words died on Mairead's tongue as she turned to address the runner, who had just rounded the corner and skidded to a stop at the sight of her.
The runner was not a student looking to get a book at the last minute like Mairead had thought, but a full-grown man. He was skeletally thin, and the skin that clung to his bones looked as though he had never gone outside a day in his life. He had long, filthy, matted black hair, and piercing blue eyes that burned like bluebell flames from inside his skull. He was wearing a pair of wizard robes that were falling apart, and as Mairead's eyes traveled over him, her stomach sank when she saw that he carried a long, lethal-looking knife clutched in his right hand. Mairead had never seen the man before, and yet she knew - from dozens of articles in The Daily Prophet, from all of the Wanted signs posted all over Diagon Alley and Platform nine and three-quarters - exactly who he was.
Her first thought was, How did he get past the Dementors?
Her second thought was, I'm going to die tonight.
...
Despite the fact that Dumbledore was at least twice the age of the next oldest member of the faculty, he outstripped them all on their way to Gryffindor tower. Remus arrived next, followed by Snape and headed up by McGonagall. Dumbledore was already speaking to Peeves.
More teachers arrived as Remus listened in mute chagrin to Peeves recount how Black had attempted to get into the Gryffindor Common Room, and how he had attacked The Fat Lady when she denied him entry.
Dumbledore's face was calm yet grave as he asked Professor McGonagall to escort her house to the Great Hall. She ushered her students off, and then Dumbledore asked the other Heads of House to fetch their students and bring them to the Great Hall as well.
"The rest of us must begin searching the castle immediately," Dumbledore said, addressing the remaining staff. "I doubt very much that Black is still in the castle, but we must be sure."
Professor Vector said what was on all of their minds: "Thank goodness the students were all in the Great Hall when Black attacked."
Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed," he agreed.
Remus, however, did not agree. His face had gone slack in horror. Then, without excusing himself he turned on his heel, shoved his way through the crowd of faculty, and tore off down the corridor.
"Remus?" Dumbledore called sharply. "What's going on?"
Remus didn't turn around. He didn't even slow. He just shouted over his shoulder as he ran, "They weren't all in the Great Hall!"
...
Sirius Black mirrored the surprise that must have shown on Mairead's face. He clearly hadn't been expecting to run into anyone in this corridor. His eyes flickered over her, taking her in, before they settled on the wand that was in her hand by her side.
"Your wand," he said. His voice came out as a rasp. "Give it to me."
Mairead's mind was racing, trying to think of the fastest way to raise the alarm. Everyone would be in the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, and Mairead was the only thing standing in his way. With a sinking feeling of insurmountable responsibility, she realized that she was standing between Black and every other person in the castle.
She thought of the way Black had blown up an entire street with one flick of his wand. She thought of all the people she loved, all together in one enclosed space. She needed to stop Black from getting into the Great Hall, but more than that, she needed to stop him from getting his hands on her wand.
If she could somehow delay or distract him, perhaps she could buy enough time for... for what? She realized she didn't even know whether the feast was still going on or whether it had already broken up, as there was no set ending time, so it varied from year to year. The logical part of her brain took over and she realized that without more information, she had to operate under the assumption that the Great Hall was still full of students.
What on earth could she do, though? Obviously fighting wasn't an option.
But, she thought, he doesn't know that. All he knows is I've got a wand and he doesn't.
Without giving it another thought, without any sort of cohesive plan, Mairead raised her wand and pointed it squarely at Black.
"Don't move," she said. She was vaguely surprised by how steady her hand was, how authoritative her voice sounded.
"You don't want to fight me," Black croaked without taking his eyes off her wand. "And I don't want to hurt you."
"Don't speak!" cried Mairead. "Get down on the floor!"
Instead of obeying her command, Black took a step towards her. Mairead fell back a step and felt her back press into the library doors.
"Give me your wand," Black repeated. "That's all I want. Just your wand."
"Don't come any closer!" Mairead shouted. But Black continued to approach her, and Mairead began sliding sideways along the wall.
"Hand over your wand now. I won't hurt you," offered Black, stretching out a hand. He was only a few feet away from her now.
"NO!" Mairead's voice came out as a panicked shriek. Gone was the authority. Gone was her steady hand. She was a foolish, terrified, cornered little girl, and she knew Black knew it.
Trying to rally her courage, she brandished her wand at him. "STOP MOVING!" she shouted, and to her utmost surprise, he stopped.
"Look," he said, as though he were trying to reason with her. "You're a Hufflepuff, right?" he gestured at the yellow and black accents on her school robes. "You don't have to be the hero here. Nobody wants you to try and be a hero. Just give me your wand, and I swear I won't hurt you. All I want is your wand."
"Get on the ground," Mairead said again, gritting her teeth to stop them from chattering in fear.
Black shook his head and started towards her again. "That's not gonna happen," he said. "Give me your wand and walk away."
He was so close to her now. She had to do something, had to think of something.
Before she could try anything else though, Black suddenly lunged for her. Her head cracked off the stone wall behind her as he crashed into her and she could feel Black's free hand close around her wand arm.
Mairead fought like a cat held by the tail. She thrashed and kicked wildly and used every bit of her strength to struggle against him. She brought her knee up forcefully and heard Black grunt in pain as the wind was knocked out of him by her knee connecting with some soft part of his body - either his groin or his abdomen, Mairead wasn't sure. She took the opportunity to sink her teeth into the hand restraining her wand arm and, using one foot for leverage, kicked off the wall behind her and shoved her entire body at Black.
Black was caught off-balance. He stumbled backwards, reached out for her to steady himself, and that's when it happened.
Mairead felt the shock more than the pain of it at first. She wasn't sure what had happened, just that something was very wrong; something with her body was not at all as it should be.
She gasped and froze, then realized that Black had gone rigid, too. Their heads moving as one, they both looked down to see Black's knife, buried to the hilt in Mairead's side.
Still moving in a strange, dreamlike unison, they looked back up into each other's eyes, once again reflecting stunned surprise back at one another.
Black's lips moved, and the words Mairead heard were so peculiar to her that she wasn't entirely sure she had heard him correctly.
"I didn't mean to."
The two stood there, frozen for what seemed to be an eternity. Then, Mairead became aware of a sound, a soft, repetitive tick-tick-tick-ing sound. Was Black wearing a watch? Was she?
The pain set in then, and the heat of it so overwhelmed her that her knees collapsed beneath her.
Black caught her. He pressed her back against the stone wall and helped her slowly lower herself to the ground. Gently, as though he cared about her pain, he eased the knife out of her. Hot blood began to gush down her side.
"Give me your wand, quick," he hissed. "This is bad. I need to fix it."
The shock and the pain were so intense that Mairead couldn't feel her fear anymore. She actually laughed.
"Do I look stupid to you?" she spat derisively through gritted teeth.
"You look dead to me if you don't let me heal this," Black snapped. He's actually doing a decent job of looking genuinely worried, Mairead thought to herself. "Give me your wand," Black tried again.
"Never," Mairead whispered. She was starting to feel faint.
Black actually looked slightly desperate. "Look," he growled. "You're bleeding heavily. You're going to die if you don't get help. Give me your wand and I'll heal this before I go. I swear."
"Go fuck yourself," she snarled.
"You don't seem to understand the situation here!" Black snapped. "This wound is fatal. If you don't get help, you're going to die. So you can either hand over your wand and let me help you before I go, or I can sit here and wait until you die and then take it anyway. Either way, I'm not leaving here without your wand. I need it."
Mairead glared at Black, hatred and contempt pouring out of her as thickly as her blood. All her life she had been pushed around, abused, bullied, backed into a corner and left with no good options. Her entire life had been defined by one small part of her: her inability to defend herself. She refused to let her death be defined the same way.
"I'll take the third option," she said in a low voice. She brought her right arm around to her front and gripped either end of her wand in her hands. "Diffindo, magicum," she whispered.
Her wand split apart along its length. She repeated the Severing Charm and it divided into smaller pieces. She whispered it a final time and watched as her wand disintegrated into splinters. Even in her current state, Mairead experienced a sense of wonder as she felt the magic dissipate into the air. The pieces fell through her fingers onto her lap, now nothing more than shreds of willow wood.
"You fool," Black whispered. "Do you realize what you've done? You've just killed yourself!" He seized her by the shoulders in desperation. "I can't help you now! You're going to die now and there's nothing I can do about it, you stupid fool!"
Mairead looked defiantly up into Black's blazing blue eyes.
"I guess we're both fucked, then," she sneered.
Black stared at her in wonder. "You're a Hufflepuff?" he asked incredulously.
Mairead let out a laugh that turned into a cough. "Not for much longer," she said hoarsely.
Black shook his head. "You should've been in Gryffindor," he murmured.
Perhaps it was her mind playing tricks on her as her body began to shut down, but Black looked very conflicted to her. He stared at her for a few moments before muttering, "Fuck!"
Then, he reached down and gripped the edges of Mairead's robes. He tore at them until he ripped a long piece of fabric free.
"Here," he growled. Gathering up the fabric, he leaned over and pressed the bundle against Mairead's wound, hard.
The pain made her see stars, but all she had the strength to do now was whimper.
Black grabbed her hands and guided them over to where the fabric was.
"Push hard," he said, pressing his hands down on top of hers. "Are you pressing hard?" he demanded.
Mairead groaned weakly.
"I can't stay any longer; I have to go," Black said. He got to his feet. Mairead no longer had the strength to look up at him, but his feet seemed to hesitate. "Godspeed, Gryffindor," he said.
Then he was gone.
Everything had gone fuzzy around the edges. Mairead felt hot, then cold. Her head felt heavy. She leaned it back against the stone wall.
Dimly, she wondered why her life wasn't flashing before her eyes. Oh, well. That sounded like a lot of bother, anyway. She had worked hard enough already this evening. Much better, she thought, just to close her eyes and get some rest.
...
Remus took every shortcut and secret passage he knew of between Gryffindor Tower and the first floor corridor where the library was located. He would have had some major explaining to do if anyone had followed him, but at the moment he couldn't care less.
"Please, God," he whispered to himself as he bolted down a hidden staircase and burst out from behind a tapestry onto the first floor.
But as soon as Remus reached the first floor, he knew that God wasn't listening.
He could smell the blood before he had even turned the corner to enter the library corridor.
Remus looked at the library doors and saw that they were shut tight. Then his eyes traveled downward, to the tiny figure crumpled lifeless on the floor.
"No, no, no, no, no," Remus said in a breathless prayer as he sprinted towards Mairead and crashed down onto his knees in front of her.
Already pale by nature, Mairead now resembled a ghost. Even the freckles that liberally dusted her nose and cheekbones were pale. There was blood in her hair and a bloody handprint on her left shoulder. She had a small pile of something in her lap. Sawdust? Remus wasn't sure what that was about. She appeared to have been clutching her side when she lost consciousness, and Remus saw that her hands were completely stained red.
Remus took in all of this in the space of one breath, and in the next he reached up and desperately probed her throat for a pulse.
There! It was there. Faint and rapid, but a little miracle beating beneath his fingertips nevertheless.
"Hold on, Mairead," Remus breathed. "If you can hear me, hold on."
He could see he had no time to waste doing field first aid. He needed to get the girl to the hospital wing quickly if she was to have any chance. He reached for her and began to pull her into his arms, but just then felt her stir.
She moaned quietly and her eyes fluttered open. It took her a moment to focus on his face and another moment before she appeared to recognize him. She gave him a dopey smile.
"He went that way," she said, jerking her head feebly in the direction of the Entrance Hall.
Remus shook his head. "Don't worry, you're safe now," he said reassuringly. "I'm going to take you to the Hospital Wing and Madam Pomphrey will fix you up good as new, okay?" He slipped a hand behind her back. "I'm going to lift you up now, all right?"
"Wait!" Mairead groaned, suddenly more alert. "What are you doing?"
Remus studied her face closely. "I'm taking you to the Hospital Wing, Mairead," he repeated slowly.
"You can't!" she exclaimed with surprising vigor. "Sirius Black - he's here! You have to stop him!"
Remus shook his head, "Don't worry about that now," he said soothingly. "The other teachers are looking for him."
"Yeah, but you're the teacher who now knows his most recent location," she said stubbornly.
"Mairead, you may not be in the right state of mind to realize this, but you've been injured very seriously. I need to get you to Madam Pomphrey right now."
"Think how many other students he could injure if you let him get away." Mairead's voice was weak and she sounded as though every word, every breath caused her pain, but she glared at him with such fire it took him aback.
Remus hesitated. She was absolutely right. He pulled out his wand.
"Expecto Patronum!" he said, recalling Lily and James's wedding day.
A large, silver wolf burst out of his wand. Remus regarded his Patronus with slight distaste. Normally he produced an incorporeal Patronus, but it couldn't be avoided in this instance. Corporeal Patronuses were necessary to send messages. The wolf sat in front of him.
"Please deliver the following message to Dumbledore," Remus began. The wolf cocked its head to one side, listening.
"Sirius Black has been sighted in the library corridor," he told the wolf. Mairead leaned forward and rested her head on his chest while he spoke. He wrapped an arm around her to steady her as he went on. "He was headed in the direction of the Entrance Hall. He has attacked and seriously injured a student. I am taking her to the Hospital Wing."
He nodded at the wolf and it turned and bounded off. Then, he addressed the girl in his arms. "There. Happy?"
Silence.
"Mairead?"
Remus pulled the girl away from his chest and saw that she had slipped back into unconsciousness. Her lips and eyelids were turning blue.
"Dammit!" he exclaimed.
Remus bundled Mairead into his arms and rose, taking off for the Hospital Wing.
...
Remus didn't consider himself to be superstitious. He didn't toss spilled salt over his left shoulder or avoid stepping on cracks, and he never knocked on wood unless he had good reason to believe there were wood sprites living inside.
He didn't consider it superstition to notice patterns. He didn't consider it superstition to acknowledge that seemingly inconsequential mistakes could have long-lasting repercussions one could never have imagined at the outset. Mistakes like leaving your window open on a warm March night on the eve of your fifth birthday. Mistakes like failing to insist that James, Peter, and Padfoot immediately report to the Ministry of Magic to register themselves as Animagi. Mistakes like getting close enough to people that you forget your place and your history and started to believe you deserved more happiness than was actually due to you.
Remus also didn't consider it superstition to acknowledge that certain days carried a certain energy, and that one ignored that energy at one's peril. Halloween, for example. Remus had spent every Halloween for the past eleven years in a state of mourning and reflection. It marked the anniversary of the loss of everything that was important to him. A loss of that magnitude, well, it had to carry a certain energy to it, didn't it? It had to impact the very earth and trees and people who bore witness to the loss of such light. A loss like that left an imprint, deep as a chasm.
And if one didn't watch where one was going, one could easily fall into such a chasm.
That was why, even though Remus did not consider himself to be superstitious, he knew with certainty that his student was fighting for her life in the hospital wing because of him.
He had gotten so caught up - first by the need to make things right by Mairead, but then by her charm and surprising wit and her contagious laugh and a genuine sweetness that drew him in like an enchanted child - that, even though the entire point of their afternoon together was because Mairead was missing Halloween, he had somehow forgotten that today was Halloween. Rather, he had forgotten everything that Halloween stood for in his mind, the energy it carried. Consequently, he had forgotten to mark the anniversary of the death of Lily, James, and Peter.
Certain days carry certain energy, and one ignores that energy at one's peril.
Remus dropped his head into his hands wearily. He had literally kicked the door in when he had arrived with Mairead, and Madam Pomphrey had enlisted his help immediately upon viewing the unconscious girl's condition.
Mairead's torso had been so blood-soaked by the time Remus had gotten her to the Hospital Wing that he had had to rip Mairead's clothes open to find the source of the bleeding. They found what appeared to be a deep puncture wound in her left side. Madam Pomphrey had quickly assessed that Mairead's spleen had been punctured and that she was bleeding internally.
Remus had force-fed Mairead Blood-Replenishing Potions, frequently incanting, "Anapneo," terrified that she would aspirate the potions, while Madam Pomphrey worked to repair the damage to Mairead's organs and blood vessels.
Mairead's heart had stopped twice during the process.
Finally, Madam Pomphrey had dropped into a chair, wiped the blood from her hands, and said they had done all they could for Mairead.
"If she survives the night, she'll make a full recovery," she had declared grimly.
"I'll stay with her and keep watch," Remus said hoarsely.
"There's really no need, dear," Madam Pomphrey had replied. "I'll be here and -"
"I'll stay with her," Remus had repeated with finality.
Dumbledore had just left. He had come to check on Mairead and to deliver the mixed bag of news that Black had escaped, but all the other students were safe and accounted for. He had offered to stay with Mairead so that Remus could leave, but Remus had refused.
Now he was sitting vigil beside her bed. Her tangled hair framed her pale, pinched face and the clean sheets she lay beneath betrayed nothing of the horrific state her body had presently been in.
Remus watched her chest rise and fall steadily and felt all the things he normally tried so hard to tamp down rising to the surface - anger, aggression, violence, bitterness, hatred.
If I ever find you, Black, he thought to himself, I'll rip your throat out with my teeth.
His lip curled at the thought. His fingers clenched around an imaginary neck. Just when he was nearly lost to the darkness, though, he heard a tiny voice.
"Professor Lupin?"
Remus sat straight up.
"I'm here, Mairead. I'm right here," he reassured her quickly.
She opened her eyes just a sliver and regarded him blearily.
"I have to tell you something," she said slowly. Her speech was badly slurred, as though she were drunk. "'S'really important."
She struggled to push herself into a sitting position. Her face was screwed up, either from the effort or from the pain.
Remus hastily leaned forward and instinctively reached for Mairead's hand. It was so small and thin that it disappeared within his long fingers.
"No, no, no, don't try to move," he said quietly. "I can hear you. What do you have to tell me?"
"It's im-important," she repeated.
"What is it?" Remus leaned forward so her mouth was right by his ear, even though he could already hear her perfectly.
"I like your Patronus," she murmured weakly into his ear. "It's really pretty."
With that, the girl drifted back to sleep.
Remus pulled back and gazed at Mairead. As he looked at her, all of the hatred and anger drained out of him as suddenly as it had built. Without thinking, he touched his forehead to their joined hands.
"Thank you, sweet girl."
...
Author's Note: What did you think? Did you like it? I've had this story in my head for quite some time, and a lot has changed about it, but that interaction between Sirius and Mairead is one of the first scenes I envisioned in my head, and very little about it has changed. I would love to hear your thoughts!
Song: Everywhere, by Smallpools and Emily Vaughn (or you can go with the original version by Fleetwood Mac. I just think that the Smallpools version more reflects Mairead's energy.)