Lupin looked surprised, but his answer came immediately:
"Yes. I really think I can."
Mairead released a breath. "'Kay," she said and turned to leave.
A moment later, she spun around on her heel to face her teacher again. "Oh, and also, will you?"
Lupin looked down at his desk and laughed under his breath. When he looked back up at her, his face had sobered, but his eyes still shone with happiness as he said, "It would be my honor."
Mairead nodded. "Okay." She turned to go again, and then added a shy, "Thank you."
Mairead closed the door to Lupin's office and headed straight to the library. She spent every spare moment of the remainder of the holidays either in the library or her Common Room. She read everything she could get her hands on. She was determined to get ahead in her classes. She had decided that Sister Mary Margaret was right. She needed to focus on the things she could control. She couldn't control how much intelligence she had been born with, but she could control how hard she worked. If she failed her N.E.W.T.s, it wouldn't be for lack of trying.
When she wasn't buried in an enormous tome on advanced Charms or Transfiguration, she was combing through texts about Hogwarts looking for a loophole that could allow her to sit for her Potions N.E.W.T. even though she had failed the class itself.
By Sunday afternoon, she had found a solution in a chart she had been poring over in the library. Her heart beating heavily with disbelief and cautious optimism, she had been in such a hurry that she had taken the book to Dumbledore's office without remembering to check it out.
She emerged fifteen minutes later, giddy and light-headed with relief. She returned the book to the library, but not before scribbling notes hurriedly, as though she thought the information would disappear or contradict itself if she took too long. Finally, she wrote down the source of the information, cleaned up her work area, and walked hastily out of the library and straight into Professor Lupin.
With an undignified "oomf!" of surprise, Mairead's face smacked into Lupin's chest. She stumbled and started to fall backwards but he reached out and caught her.
"Mairead!" Lupin said in surprise. "Are you all right?"
"Sorry, Professor Lupin!" she moaned in embarrassment. She hoped very much that he would think the blush she could feel raging on her face was from the collision and not from the touch of one of his hands on her wrist and his other around her waist.
He steadied her with his hands before taking a step back. "I was actually hoping to find you here. I wanted to speak with you," he said, then added with a teasing smile, "Unless you're in a hurry?"
"No, no, sorry, yes, no," she responded nonsensically, rubbing her nose, which throbbed from crashing into him.
"Pardon?" he asked politely, looking more amused than ever.
Mairead huffed out a breath and pressed the heel of one hand into her forehead in humiliation. "Ugh, just ignore me," she groaned.
Mairead tried to ignore the entrancing way Lupin's eyes still danced with mirth as he said, "I've been looking for you. I wondered if you would like to meet sometime next week to plan things out. If you would still like my help, that is."
"Oh! Right! Yes, please. I'm free whenever. Whenever works for you. Except for Friday evening," she amended, remembering her work schedule. "Oh, and also Saturday. I work here those times. In the library, I mean, not in this corridor. I don't work in corridors. I don't suppose anyone does. Well, I guess Mr. Filch probably does..." she looked up and trailed off when she noticed that Professor Lupin's mouth was twisting as he fought to keep a straight face. "I'll just stop talking now," she finished lamely.
"Let's see, how about we meet tomorrow afternoon?" he suggested. "Around four o'clock?"
"That works for me!" said Mairead. "Should I come to your office, then? Or to the classroom?"
"My office, I should think," he said. Then, frowning thoughtfully, he added, "Unless there was a corridor you wanted to try out? I'd hate to think I was depriving you of a new work environment."
Mairead looked at him in confusion. His eyes were twinkling. She closed her eyes and pulled her lips into her mouth and bit down as she realized he was teasing her.
Her mind raced to try to formulate a clever response, but her thoughts were interrupted by a cold voice saying, "Excuse me."
Professor Lupin turned and Mairead saw Professor Snape standing behind him, looking irked.
"Oh, hello, Severus," Lupin said pleasantly. "Happy New Year."
Snape ignored Lupin's niceties. "Is there a reason the two of you are barricading the library doors?" he asked acidly.
Lupin and Mairead stepped away from one another to clear the way for Snape, who sneered down at Mairead. Mairead forced herself to meet his black gaze and fought not to quail under the tall man's glower. She had told herself that her days of fearing the Potions professor were over, but that was far easier to say when he wasn't towering over her.
"By the way, Miss O'Keefe," he said in a way that gave Mairead the impression he was thoroughly relishing whatever he was about to say. "I'll need your completed Drop form on my desk by tomorrow."
Professor Lupin looked back and forth between the two, no longer looking amused. "Aren't you pleased to see that Mairead made a full recovery after her class with you, Severus?" he asked. His voice was pleasant enough, but there was an edge in his tone Mairead had never heard before. Though she couldn't point her finger at anything directly, somehow Mairead felt very certain that Lupin was subtly warning Snape to back off.
Snape considered Mairead distastefully. "Oh, I don't know," he said silkily. "Personally I felt the goat ears were an improvement on her appearance."
While they were speaking, Lupin had discreetly shifted and turned himself until he had come to stand right next to Mairead. She wasn't sure if it was Professor Lupin's proximity lending her courage or if it was the anger that Snape's biting comment sparked in her, but suddenly she wasn't afraid of him anymore.
"Professor Snape!" she said jovially, giving him a wide smile. "I'm so happy to see you! I've been meaning to talk to you about how much I'm looking forward to resuming classes with you next term."
Professor Snape arched an eyebrow. "Excuse me?" he said.
"Yes, I'm just beside myself with excitement. Aren't you?" she continued cheerfully.
Professor Snape shifted his cold stare from Mairead to Professor Lupin. "Miss O'Keefe doesn't seem to have made as full a recovery as you are purporting, Lupin," he said. "Clearly, her mind has been addled, or else she would recall that she failed my class last semester."
"Yeah, about that," said Mairead, putting her hands casually into her pockets. "I did a lot of reading over the holidays. Had a lot of spare time. Did you know I was in the Hospital Wing for three weeks? Anyway," she continued without giving him a chance to answer. "While I was whiling away my time, I found something fascinating. D'you want to know what it was?"
"Not partic -"
"I found the standardized grading chart for all of the core classes at Hogwarts," Mairead continued, talking over Snape. "And do you know what percentage constitutes an Acceptable grade in core classes?"
Snape's face became somehow even more sallow as he began to catch on. "Seventy percent," he said sullenly.
"That's right! Seventy percent!" said Mairead. "So if a student received top marks on every single assignment in class, they could actually fail a project worth up to thirty percent of their overall grade and still pass the class. Isn't that fascinating?" Her tone had become aggressively cheerful.
"And furthermore, do you want to know the lowest grade a student can hold in a core class and still sit for the N.E.W.T.?" she asked. She gave a false little giggle. "I'll let you guess!"
Snape's eyes glittered like beetles. "You are forgetting something, Miss O'Keefe," he said in a dangerously soft voice. "You are awarding yourself perfect attendance, but by my recollection you did not attend a single Potions class for the last four weeks of the term. Attendance accounts for ten percent of the overall grade in core classes, and so therefore you currently hold a sixty percent, or Poor grade in my class, which is not a passing grade." He looked triumphantly down his hooked nose at her, but Mairead's smile did not falter.
"Yeah, I thought of that," she said, allowing her voice to take on a tone of false regret. "But then I remembered that I've spent the past three years working in the Greenhouses for extra credit in both Herbology and," here she gave a small, sarcastic little gasp. "Potions! And do you want to just take a stab at how much extra credit that earns me?"
Snape's face was twisted in fury. Mairead wished she had a camera.
"Anyway," she concluded in a breezy tone, "I am really looking forward to working with you again. I bought a new cauldron when I was in Diagon Alley over the break, and I got myself a new wand that actually functions - oh, it's so pretty! You'll love it - and I am just counting down the hours until I can start brewing again. If you have any questions you can ask Professor Dumbledore, who confirmed that I will, in fact, be taking Potions with you in the Spring semester. Otherwise, thank you so much for this thrilling opportunity, Professor Snape. See you Wednesday!" she waved buoyantly at him as he swept past her and into the library without another word.
Mairead savored the pleasure of watching Snape storm off towards the back of the library, then turned back to Professor Lupin.
"Anyway, Monday afternoon at four o'clock?" she confirmed with him.
Lupin looked torn between being impressed and being concerned. Finally, he quietly said, "I hardly feel it should be necessary to tell you this Mairead, but Professor Snape is not one to be crossed."
Mairead met his gaze unwaveringly, determination steeling her spine.
"Nor am I."
...
Professor Lupin was not there when Mairead arrived at his office the next day at four o'clock, so she settled herself down on the floor next to his door, pulled out a book, and was reading when she heard someone say her name.
She looked up to see Patrick Daily smiling down at her. He looked like he had just finished classes for the day: his shirt was untucked, his tie loosened, and the first couple of buttons of his shirt were undone.
"Oh hey, Patrick!" she greeted him brightly. "Happy New Year!"
"Same to you," he said, nodding. "Had a good Christmas?"
"Yeah, it was grand," she lied. "You?"
"Oh, aye," he said, shoving a hand into his pocket and leaning one shoulder against the wall next to her. "Me mam took about a million photos of me and me little brothers."
Mairead smiled wistfully at the thought of a mother to fuss over her. "That sounds nice," she said softly.
"Hey, so I heard you managed to get yerself back into Potions," said Patrick. "How'd ya swing that?"
"Oh, you know, the usual: charisma, seduction, and when that didn't work blackmail," Mairead said with a casual air. Patrick chuckled.
"I'd be happy to help catch you up if you'd like," he offered. "I could buy you a coffee and we could go over what you've missed."
"Really? That would be great!" said Mairead, her face breaking into a wide smile. "Although I'll be buying the coffee. It's the least I can do to thank you for bringing me my assignments for all that time."
Patrick shrugged. "Sure, we can be modern, if you'd like," he said. Mairead frowned in confusion and was about to ask what he had meant when he turned and looked over his shoulder. She followed his gaze and saw Professor Lupin walking up behind him.
Patrick shrugged off the wall. "I'll let you get to yer meeting," he said. "This weekend, yeah?"
Mairead nodded. "Yeah, sounds good. Thanks a lot."
Patrick gave her a crooked smile and sloped off, shooting a look back over his shoulder at her before turning a corner.
Professor Lupin smiled at her. "Ready?" he asked, unlocking his door.
Mairead nodded and stood, tugging her skirt down around her legs. Lupin pushed the door open and gestured for her to walk through first.
This was only the second time she had ever been inside Professor Lupin's office, and the first time she had been so flustered because of her forgotten essay that she hadn't taken in her surroundings. She looked around now while Professor Lupin settled in.
The bookshelves were positively packed with books, many of which seemed to be well-loved. There was a comfortable-looking couch by a fireplace, and the coffee table in front of it was cluttered with piles of essays, more books, empty ink bottles, and quills. There was a closed door along the wall from the fireplace, which Mairead imagined led to his private quarters. She wandered over to the window near Lupin's desk and saw that he had a view of the lake. There was a large tank in the corner by the window that contained a fearsome looking creature. When she approached it to take a closer look it threw itself against the glass as though it meant to attack her. Mairead jumped back, startled, and accidentally trod on Lupin's foot as he went to hang his robes up on a nearby coat rack.
"I'm so sorry!" she cried, stumbling away from him.
"Quite all right," he said, chuckling. "Cup of tea?"
"Oh, sure," said Mairead. "Where's your teapot?"
"I meant for you," Lupin said with another small laugh.
Mairead winced. "Right," she said. Professor Lupin had to think she was indescribably dumb.
"Why don't you have a seat?" Lupin asked, retrieving his teapot from on top of another pile of books.
Mairead perched on the edge of the chair in front of his desk and waited, twisting her hands nervously. She was beginning to regret accepting his offer of help. Whatever he had in mind couldn't possibly be pleasant. She had tried and tried over the previous six years to find a way to overcome her disability. Why exactly did she think that this man who hardly knew her held the key?
Professor Lupin handed her a mug and sat down behind his desk. He took a sip from his own chipped mug and regarded her. Some of her nerves must have shown on her face, because he asked her, "Are you still up for this?"
Mairead took a long sip from her tea to buy herself time to think. "I don't really know," she eventually admitted, fiddling with the string attached to her tea bag. "I don't really know what to expect."
Lupin nodded. "I thought this afternoon we could go over that. I think we got off on the wrong foot the last time we had this discussion - which was my fault, not yours," he added firmly as Mairead blushed and dropped his gaze shamefully. "I meant what I said by the lake, Mairead, and I want to be sure this time that I'm being respectful of your boundaries."
Mairead looked up. "I'm really sorry about last time!" she burst out. "It - I - it wasn't you, it was... well, it was partially... but it -"
Professor Lupin held up a hand and Mairead fell into a guilty silence. "I think we both regret how things went last time," he said gently. "How would you feel about starting over from scratch?"
Mairead nodded. "Okay," she said barely above a whisper.
Lupin nodded. "Well then: I would like to put this in your hands. Why don't you tell me what you would like to get out of this?"
Mairead's eyebrows shot up. She looked blankly at him, unsure of what to say. "Erm," she faltered. "Well, you said something about my possibly getting an O.W.L. in Defense? Maybe?"
Professor Lupin nodded. "I don't want to promise anything, but I think there's a real possibility we could get you there," he said.
"Okay, erm, how?" Mairead asked.
Lupin took a deep breath. "Well," he began, sounding cautious. "I think there may be... some workarounds. Do you remember any of what I said last time?"
"Some of it," said Mairead. "Before, like, the roaring in my ears started and stuff."
Lupin laughed, and Mairead could feel the tension loosen somewhat. "You were talking about a tree, I think?" she said. "And, like, magical branches?"
He smiled crookedly. "Kind of," he hedged. "I'm sure you've heard of the different branches of magic, right? Miranda Goshawk was one of the developers of the theory and her writings on it are peppered throughout The Standard Book of Spells."
Mairead nodded, and he went on. "This is largely guesswork on my part," he acknowledged, "but my guess would be that, for whatever reason, you don't have access to the Defensive branch of magic."
"The branch is dead," Mairead recalled him saying.
Lupin winced slightly. "For want of a better term. From what I have seen from you and heard from your other professors, however, you are perfectly capable and highly competent in all other areas, such as Charms and Transfiguration."
Mairead raised an eyebrow. "Professor McGonagall said I'm 'highly competent' at Transfiguration?" she said, laughing. "Was she drunk or something?"
Professor Lupin laughed again. "I may have embellished slightly," he admitted, looking around shiftily.
"Only slightly?"
"If it makes you feel any better," said Lupin with a slightly conspiratorial smile that made Mairead's stomach turn flips, "Professor McGonagall once said it would be a sad day for Wizardkind when my friends and I were turned loose on society as fully qualified wizards."
Mairead's jaw dropped open. She laughed breathlessly. "I'm... I'm kind of impressed, honestly," she said.
They shared a smile until Mairead felt overcome with shyness, looked down at her mug, and resumed fiddling with her tea label.
She heard Lupin clear his throat before he went on. "Regardless, it's clear that you do not struggle with using the other branches of magic. Your capabilities in Charms are particularly impressive." Mairead looked up and gave him a skeptical look. "They really are," he insisted. "I've never seen a Doubling Charm used the way you used it to copy texts. And the way you got that coffee stain out of that library book was very innovative."
Mairead was shaking her head doubtfully. "Professor Lupin," she began, "with all due respect, I don't think that's as significant as you're making it out to be. It was just a coffee stain. And it was just a bit of text. I've just messed about, that's all. And that's to say nothing about all the stuff I've tried that's blown up in my face. Literally, sometimes."
"It's highly significant," Lupin insisted. "You're not giving yourself enough credit. Many witches and wizards have attempted to modify spells and enchantments to use them in new ways, but not many have enjoyed any success whatsoever in their attempts, and fewer still have succeeded at such a young age."
Mairead opened her mouth to make a counter argument, but then she remembered what Mr. Ollivander had told her. The time in your life for that kind of attitude has passed. "What does this have to do with Defense Against the Dark Arts?" she asked instead.
"Well, I thought about that Severing Charm you used to destroy your old wand," said Lupin. His eyes had an excited look in them, and he set his mug aside, freeing his hands. Ten Galleons says he's about to start talking with his hands, Mairead thought to herself, and she couldn't help but be pleased that he was this enthusiastic about something concerning her. "Of course, normally if a wizard wished to destroy something, they would use a Reductor Curse, like Professor Flitwick thought you had. But you couldn't use one, so you improvised. You found another way to accomplish your goal, and the end result was nearly identical."
Mairead fought back a smile. He was gesturing with his hands.
"So that got me thinking," he said, "and I thought about people who live with other disabilities, such as being visually impaired. A great many people who lose their eyesight report a heightening in their other senses. They say that they hear better, smell better, that even their sense of touch is more sensitive than it was before they lost their eyesight. And I thought, what if the branches of magic function similarly? What if, when a witch or wizard loses access to one branch of magic, the other branches could be strengthened to compensate for the loss?"
He paused and looked at Mairead as if to check that she was following him. She was staring at him, frowning at the tiny spark of hope that was lighting in her mind. If he was right...
"You couldn't use a curse, so you used a charm," he repeated. "A charm that wasn't even intended to be used that way. I asked Professor Flitwick, and he told me that the Severing Charm was invented by a seamstress who was looking for an easier way to cut fabric. You knew what you wanted to accomplish, and you harnessed your creativity and innovation to find another way to do what you needed to. That," he concluded, sitting back in his chair, "is highly significant."
Mairead could hardly think, so many thoughts and ideas were streaming through her mind. "So..." she tried, "so what were you... how would we...?" she looked to him for help.
"Well, here's where things got... touchy... last time," Professor Lupin said delicately. "My original thought was that I would design some sort of test I could have you take. I thought that by having you perform a range of spells that are within your wheelhouse, we could get a better understanding of where precisely your limitations are. Sort of like how astronomers map out the size and mass of dark matter, which is invisible, by looking at how surrounding visible objects behave.
"What I didn't know at the time," he continued, sounding guiltier the more he went on, "was that you had already been subjected to quite a lot of such testing in the past."
Mairead shifted in her seat as unwelcome memories resurfaced.
"Professor Dumbledore filled me in after you left," said Lupin. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. If I had, I never would have made the suggestion."
"I'm sorry, too," Mairead said quietly. "I was taking a lot of stuff out on you that wasn't about you."
Lupin regarded her solemnly for a moment before continuing. "Given what has happened in the past, along with my fervent wish not to make you feel uncomfortable or unsafe, I think we should do away with that plan. I want you to be in charge. You tell me what you want, and I'll follow your lead. How does that sound?"
Mairead's eyes widened. "I... I don't... erm, I don't know."
Professor Lupin tilted his head to one side. "What is it?"
"I... I don't know that I..." Mairead paused, thinking this through. "I don't think I should be in charge by myself," she said eventually. "You're the content expert, after all. I don't think it makes sense for me to be, y'know, at the helm."
Professor Lupin frowned thoughtfully. "What if we looked at this as a partnership?" he offered after a few moments. "Neither of us is in charge. We're working together. We both get to make suggestions, and we both get to veto anything we don't think is a good idea."
Mairead felt a smile blossom on her face. "Yeah," she said, "I like that."
Lupin returned her smile. "I do, too," he said.
"Well, now that that's settled," he said, suddenly businesslike, "I think the final thing we should cover today is when we should meet."
"I don't want to take up too much of your time," Mairead said quickly, feeling anxious at the thought of becoming a nuisance. "You've got to be super busy."
"Let's see," said Lupin, turning his attention to the papers strewn on his desk and searching among them. "I took the liberty of asking Professor Sprout for a copy of your schedule. Would you have time to meet two evenings a week? Say for an hour or so? Perhaps Mondays and Wednesdays?"
"I could, but could you? I don't want to be a burden," she said.
Professor Lupin waved a hand dismissively and said, "Don't be ridiculous, I can't imagine you being burdensome." Mairead liked that a little too much and it took her a moment to process his next words. "Besides, we have our work cut out for us if we're going to have you ready to take your Defense O.W.L. this year."
"Professor Lupin," she said slowly, "this sounds really great and everything, but you don't really think the W.E.O. is going to let me take the O.W.L., do you?"
Lupin was suddenly looking guilty again. "I hope you'll forgive me," he said, "but I have to confess something to you. I know you said back in November that you weren't interested in this plan, but Professor Dumbledore was of the opinion that you might change your mind. So he and I took the liberty of contacting the Wizarding Examination Authority on your behalf. We explained your situation, and they are willing to let you try for an O.W.L. in Defense Against the Dark Arts, provided you can satisfactorily overcome each challenge they present to you."
Mairead stared at him, dumbfounded. "Are you serious?" she finally breathed.
He nodded. All at once, Mairead felt overcome with emotion. She blinked rapidly and took a few shaky, deep breaths, desperate not to cry in front of Lupin yet again.
Professor Lupin was watching her closely. "I can't tell if you're happy about this or upset," he said softly.
"Happy," Mairead whispered, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth and biting down hard.
Lupin smiled. "Good," he said.
There was a silence, and Mairead blinked and realized he was waiting for an answer about Mondays and Wednesdays. "Those days work fine for me if they work for you," she said, a bit thickly, but no tears had fallen so she counted that as a victory.
"Excellent," he said. "Eight o'clock?"
At her nod, Lupin smiled again and rose from his seat. "Shall we start the day after tomorrow?"
Mairead nodded, setting her mug down on his desk and rummaging in her robes for her wand. "Evanesco," she muttered, and the dregs of her tea vanished. "Scourgify" she said next, and the mug cleaned itself. She had been practicing with her new wand for nearly a week now, and the relief and gratitude she felt at even the simplest spell going right still hadn't left her. She rose and faced Lupin. "Thank you, Professor Lupin," she said shyly but sincerely. "For everything. Really."
He smiled warmly at her. "It's my pleasure, Mairead."
She walked to the door and paused in the doorway. "I'll see you tomorrow in class," she said.
He put his hands in his pockets and leaned against his desk. "I look forward to it."
Mairead backed out of his office and closed the door. She was having difficulty sorting through the emotions coursing through her. She didn't want to get her hopes up, but...
She started down the staircase to the basement, so lost in thought that she didn't notice Professor Snape coming in the opposite direction until he snarled, "Watch where you're going!" She jumped and darted out of his way, avoiding a collision at the last minute.
"Sorry, Professor!" she said breathlessly. Snape glared malevolently at her, then his expression turned to one of cold calculation.
"Oh, Miss O'Keefe," he said in what Cedric called his "sadistic, puppy-kicking" tone. "Your carelessness and self-absorption reminds me: you have a detention you must serve."
Mairead looked at him incredulously. "For what?!" she demanded, then added a useless "sir?" at the end.
"Why, for the blatant disrespect you showed me in class, of course," Snape answered. "You didn't really believe you could swear at a teacher without consequence, did you?"
"When did I swear at you?" Mairead asked dubiously.
"Perhaps Professor Lupin allows you to address him however you please, but when I am in charge of his Defense classes, I will not abide such misconduct," answered Snape, sounding far too pleased to convince Mairead he was all that bothered by whatever disrespect she had shown him.
Mairead stared at him. "You were directing fifteen people to attack me!" she cried indignantly. "You're seriously giving me detention because of what I said in response to that?!"
Snape tutted, looking happier by the moment. "Dear, dear, I think we'll also have to subtract fifteen points from Hufflepuff for your continual and utter disregard for authority. Would you like to keep going? I could always give you more detention."
Mairead clamped her mouth shut. "No, thank you, sir," she said through a tight jaw.
"Ah, so you can learn, can you? I didn't believe it was possible..." Snape swept past her without another word.
Mairead glared contemptuously at his retreating back, then shook her head to clear her thoughts.
He's a means to an end, she reminded herself. She continued on to her Common Room, forcing herself not to think about what kind of dismal task he would assign her in detention.
...
It appeared as though luck was on Mairead's side, though. When the bell rang to signal the end of Defense Against the Dark Arts the next afternoon, Professor Lupin called her name and asked to have a word with her after class.
"I'm afraid we're going to have to postpone our first Defense lesson," he said to her once all of her classmates had left.
"Oh, okay, why?" asked Mairead.
He gave her a look of fond exasperation. "How exactly did you manage to get detention from Professor Snape on the first day of term?" he asked.
"Oh, that," Mairead said.
"Yes, that," confirmed Lupin. "Don't worry; I pulled a few strings and you'll be with me, not Professor Snape."
Mairead sagged with relief. "Thanks," she said gratefully.
Lupin nodded. "Don't cross him anymore, Mairead," he said, lowering his voice and looking concerned. "I mean it. He already resents that he lost to you. He's not one to take that lying down."
"I know, I didn't mean to," Mairead began, then broke off. "Wait, do you know him? Before this, I mean?"
Professor Lupin took a breath. "We were in the same year when we were students here," he said slowly.
Mairead raised her eyebrows. "Besties?" she teased.
"Not exactly," Lupin replied wryly. He looked as though he had given her more information than he had intended to, and Mairead felt a sting of regret for prying.
"Okay, well, I'll see you for detention, then?" she asked, changing the subject.
He nodded and turned to his desk to start piling papers back into his briefcase. "Yes, still come to my office tomorrow at eight. We'll go from there."
"Okay," she said. "And thanks. Again."
He looked at her seriously. "I meant what I said. I doubt I'll be able to pull this off again."
"I know," she said. "I'll be careful."
...
Remus thanked Professor McGonagall once again for lending him one of her packing cases and backed out of her living quarters.
What a lot of tartan.
He checked his watch and cursed under his breath. He was late for Mairead's detention.
As he hurried to his office, he smiled to himself, remembering how it had been a longstanding but never-attained goal of the Marauders to gain entry to McGonagall's private quarters. He never would have imagined that one day he would be invited inside by the Deputy Headmistress herself.
He rounded the last corner on the way to his office and saw Mairead sitting on the floor beside his door, nose buried in a book.
"What are you reading?" he asked her when he was within what he judged to be human earshot.
She started and looked up. "A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration," she replied, searching for her bookmark. "Are you going somewhere?" she asked, eyeing the case.
"No, this is for tonight," Remus replied, setting it down to open the door to his office.
"Oh?" said Mairead, scrambling to her feet and walking in ahead of him at his gesture.
"I find myself in need of a Boggart," Remus explained. "You and I are going to track one down and trap him in here." He nodded towards the packing case outside the door. "You can leave your things in here. You'll only need your wand."
Mairead looked apprehensive, but she obediently sat her bag down on the chair in front of his desk nevertheless.
"Right," said Remus, "We'll head down to the dungeons first. I thought we could start at the bottom and work our way up."
"Okay," Mairead said, following him out of his office and down the corridor.
"Do you recall what a Boggart is?" Remus quizzed her as they headed for the dungeons.
Mairead thought for a moment, and then her expression brightened. "Oh, they're the scary things, right?" She blinked and shook her head. "I mean the things that scare people. I suppose in your line of work 'the scary things' doesn't narrow things down too much, does it?"
Remus chuckled. "Not too much, no," he acknowledged, starting down the stairs to the first floor. The trunk bumped uncomfortably against his knees with every step and he heaved it a little higher.
"The shapeshifters, I mean," Mairead went on, trotting after him. "They change into whatever'll scare people the most. Right?"
"Right," Remus said. "Excellent. Could you tell me where we would be most likely to find a Boggart?"
"Erm, like in closets and under beds and stuff?"
"Precisely!" Remus answered, pleased at her memory. "Very well done, Mairead."
As was so often the case, Mairead rejected his praise. "No, the only reason I remember Boggarts is because of this film I saw," she said modestly. She looked over at him carrying the packing case. "D'you want help with that, by the way? I could take an end..."
Remus gratefully set the case down and moved to one end. Mairead reached down and grasped the handle on the other end and they lifted it together. It was far less cumbersome to carry this way, though it did tilt to one side, as Mairead was nearly a foot shorter than Remus.
They started down the staircase to the dungeons and Remus asked, "What film? I can't imagine one that would feature a Boggart. Muggles typically don't understand what they're looking at when they spot one."
Mairead giggled. "Erm, it's The Two Mrs. Carrolls, and it doesn't have a Boggart in it. It's got Humphrey Bogart in it. He plays this mad artist who marries Barbara Stanwyck - she's his second wife 'cause his first wife got sick and died - hence the title - and anyway she finds out that he gets inspiration for his paintings from watching women get sick and die and then she figures out that he's poisoning her when she finds this painting of her all withered and dying. And anyway there's this scene at the end where he bursts out from behind a curtain and scares Barbara Stanwyck and Ansel and I were joking he was the Bogart Boggart."
Remus laughed at the pun, but Mairead looked embarrassed. "Sorry, I know it's stupid," she said quietly.
"It's not stupid," Remus disagreed. Mairead said nothing, chewing on her bottom lip and staring at the ground as she walked. Remus sighed. Not for the first time, he thought of how terribly frustrating the girl could be. Talking to her was like trying to talk to the sun when it kept darting behind clouds every time it became too self-conscious. She seemed to be completely unaware of the sunlight she cast when she let her guard down.
"Let's start in there," Remus nodded towards an unused classroom. They went through the door sideways to accommodate the packing case and he indicated to her to set her end down. He waved a hand and the lanterns in the room came on, then he bent down and opened the case.
"Right," he said. "we'll search closets, inside desk drawers, and behind any drapes - à la Humphrey Bogart."
Mairead let out a breathy laugh and started off towards the supply closet at the back of the classroom while Remus began opening the drawers in the desk at the front of the classroom.
"Can you tell me what finishes a Boggart off?" Remus asked as they worked.
"Erm," said Mairead as she cautiously approached the closet door. Remus straightened up to watch her. She tentatively reached out a hand, touched the handle only as long as was necessary to twist it, and then jumped as far away as she could manage, cringing while the door swung open. Upon seeing nothing but shelves full of dusty supplies, Mairead relaxed and said over her shoulder, "Don't you have to get it to laugh?"
"Close."
"Or wait - no, you have to laugh at it," she corrected herself.
"Right again! Five points to Hufflepuff - oh, wait," he said, suddenly uncertain. "Am I allowed to award points to you while you're in detention?"
Mairead shrugged, walking back towards the front of the classroom. "Dunno," she said. "I don't normally get awarded points. Then again I don't normally get detention, either," she added with a wry smile.
Remus declared the desk empty. They picked up the case and headed off to the next room.
"So you don't normally get detention?" asked Remus as they set the trunk down and continued searching. Mairead shook her head, once again heading for the supply closet and letting Remus rummage through the desk drawers.
"What did you do to earn this one?" he asked.
Mairead turned and looked at him over her shoulder. "I swore at Professor Snape," she confessed, once again jumping backwards as she opened the closet door. There was a chest of drawers inside the closet and she began opening the drawers.
Remus snorted. "Do you make a habit out of swearing at your teachers, then?" he teased as he finished going through the desk and walked down to help her search the closet. "And here I thought I was special."
He expected her to blush and stammer and apologize, and thus was caught completely by surprise when she smirked cheekily up at him. "Well," she drawled, "can you blame me? It's the only form of cursing I'm any good at."
Remus burst out laughing. Mairead smiled shyly and let out a tiny giggle, looking slightly surprised by her own daring but pleased all the same.
The two quickly fell into a pattern of combing the castle for a Boggart. Remus would search the desk at the front of each classroom while Mairead headed for the supply closet. They shared the burden of the trunk between them on their way from room to room. Once they finished in the dungeons and moved up to the above-ground floors they also poked and prodded the blinds that covered the windows.
They chatted amiably about this and that as they went along. Remus recalled why he had enjoyed spending the afternoon with Mairead on Halloween so much. Once she relaxed, conversation came as easily as if they had known each other for years, rather than just four months. Remus rejoiced internally when he got Mairead laughing helplessly with a story about a classroom experiment gone wrong and realized that he had finally made it past her defenses. He found himself entertaining her with stories of his other students (names redacted, of course; he hadn't completely abandoned professionalism after all) just to hear her laugh again. For Mairead's part, she told him the plots of films she enjoyed, stories of sneaking off to see movies that the sisters at St. Hedwig's would not approve of (the film she had referenced earlier was among these), and a story or two of her earlier years at Hogwarts. Remus was utterly charmed by the young witch, which, he supposed, was a good thing, as he was going to be spending two evenings a week alone with her for the rest of the school year. He shuddered at the thought of having to spend that much time with Draco Malfoy or Vincent Crabbe.
Remus was enjoying Mairead's company so much that he didn't notice the rattling coming from the back of the next classroom they entered.
They were on the fourth floor, and Mairead was telling him the circumstances under which she had cursed Snape out.
"I mean, he had just directed everyone in class to use me as a human target for nonverbal spells!" she exclaimed indignantly as she set down her end of the trunk. "What did he expect me to do? Thank him for his contributions to my education?"
Remus chuckled and strolled over to the desk while Mairead headed to the back of the classroom where the storage closet was. "Just you wait, Mairead," he said encouragingly as he opened up the top desk drawer. "By the end of this year, Professor Snape will be terrified of you."
Mairead tossed a smile and a laugh over her shoulder. "I don't know about that, Professor Lupin."
Remus looked up to smile at her and noticed the doorknob of the closet shaking violently as she reached for it.
"No, don't!" he said sharply, but he was too late. Everything happened very quickly after that.
The door burst open and Mairead was thrown back. A man charged out of the closet roaring with rage. Mairead screamed and stumbled backwards away from the man. Though Remus had only met him once, he instantly recognized him.
The man was tall, taller than Remus by a couple of inches, and quite muscular. His dark brown hair was cropped close to his head. Remus could see that Mairead had inherited Kenneth O'Keefe's hunter green eyes, but the man's gaze held none of his daughter's sweetness or warmth. His face was contorted with fury as he advanced on Mairead.
"YOU FUCKING BITCH!" he roared. "Get over here! I'll fuckin' KILL YOU!"
Mairead ran backwards as fast as she could, but her heel caught on a desk chair and she crashed down to the floor. She used her hands to scramble backwards, never taking her petrified gaze off the man stalking towards her.
"You think you can lock me up in Azkaban, do yeh, yeh goddamn hoor?!" O'Keefe yelled. Their shared accent, which in Mairead's voice sounded like a soft, Irish lilt, came out of Kenneth as a violent, animalistic brogue.
Mairead took shelter beneath a desk. O'Keefe stopped in front of the desk. He lowered his voice to a dangerous growl.
"Come out of there," he said in a low, threatening purr, "or I will make this so painful -"
"Riddikulus!" Remus cried, brandishing his wand.
The man vanished. In his place hung an orb glowing with the reflected light of the sun. Remus waved his wand once more, and the Boggart disappeared into the air.
Pocketing his wand, Remus hurried over to where Mairead cowered under the desk.
"Sweetheart, I am so sorry," he moaned, the endearment falling from his lips unconsciously.
But the girl did not appear to have heard him. She was staring at the space where the Boggart version of her father had been and breathing in short, rapid gasps.
Remus knelt down in front of her. "Mairead," he said. She did not answer, and he noticed that her entire body was trembling with fear.
"Mairead," he tried again. "Look at me."
He shifted his body to be where she was staring, but she simply craned her neck to look over his shoulder at the same spot.
Remus took her by the shoulders and gave her a firm shake. He said her name again. There was still no response, no sign of recognition in Mairead's wide, terrified eyes.
Remus sighed. "I'm sorry," he muttered, then slapped her quickly on the cheek.
Mairead jumped violently. At last her eyes focused on Remus.
"Where is he?" she asked in a frightened whisper.
"Gone," Remus said calmly.
"Where did he go?" demanded Mairead. "Did you get hurt?" Her eyes fluttered over him searching for injuries.
"He was never really there, Mairead," Remus explained. Mairead frowned.
"N-no he was here," she said, looking over his shoulder again in confusion. "I saw him."
Remus shook his head. "It was a Boggart," he said softly.
"But..." Mairead said, trailing off uncertainly.
"It's all right, Mairead," said Remus soothingly. "It was just a Boggart. Your father isn't here. He's locked up in Azkaban and he'll never get out."
Mairead took a few moments to process this. Remus scanned the girl anxiously. She was deathly pale and her pupils were tiny pinpricks of fear. He still had one hand on her shoulder and he could feel her shaking.
"Come on," he said quietly. "Let's go back to my office. I'll make you a cup of tea."
He rose to his feet and held out a hand to help her up. It took Mairead a while to move. One of her hands was clutching a leg on the desk so tightly her knuckles were white. Gradually, she unfolded herself and slid out from under the desk. She looked around the classroom apprehensively before accepting his hand. Remus reached down and caught her elbow with his other hand and lifted her easily to her feet.
"Did you hurt yourself when you fell?" he asked her, looking her up and down.
She shook her head. She took a step and her knees gave out. Remus caught her before she hit the ground.
"Sorry," she whispered weakly, clutching his forearms as she got her feet underneath her again.
"Do you need a minute?" Remus asked, worried she might faint. She shook her head again and together they started walking towards the front of the classroom. Mairead swayed unsteadily as she walked, so Remus put an arm around her and held her to his side.
"What about the trunk?" Mairead asked shakily as they passed it.
"I'll come back for it later," said Remus.
Remus internally berated himself the entire silent walk back to his office.
What the hell did you think would happen, bringing her on this escapade? he thought angrily. Her father was one of the most dreaded Death Eaters ever to serve Voldemort. What did you think her Boggart would be? A fucking spider?
Remus now understood what Dumbledore had been trying to tell him when they had argued in the older wizard's office. What kind of upbringing do you think Mairead had with that man for a father?
He then remembered what else Dumbledore had said about Mairead testifying against her father. The Headmaster had called Mairead's courage unforgettable - her courage, and her fear. Remus recalled what Boggart Kenneth O'Keefe had shouted at Mairead: You think you can lock me up in Azkaban? Of course her worst fear would be of her father getting out of Azkaban and coming after her. It probably wasn't all that different from what would really happen should the Death Eater actually escape.
And mere months ago, Azkaban had experienced its very first breakout, which could only have lent credence to Mairead's fears.
Remus glanced over at the girl, who had recovered enough to walk on her own, though he kept a light hand on her back just in case. He wondered why she wasn't crying. She must despise me for exposing her to this, he thought miserably.
They reached his office door and Remus stood aside to let her go through first. He noticed her glancing around into the corners of the room before entering. She still looked incredibly tense.
Remus invited her to have a seat on his couch while he hastened to make her a cup of tea. He waved a hand at the fireplace and the logs burst into flame. Mairead jumped and let out a small yelp.
"I'm sorry," Remus said, feeling guiltier than ever.
"No I'm sorry," she replied in a tiny voice. Remus paused in the middle of pouring boiling water into a mug and looked over at her. She was huddled on the couch, arms wrapped tightly around her middle, and rocking slightly in what Remus imagined was an attempt at self-soothing. He had expected her to be crying by now.
He finished making tea and brought it over to her, moving slowly and carefully to try to avoid startling her again.
Mairead accepted a mug from him with a small smile and clutched it in her hands as he took a seat on the other end of the couch. She didn't drink, but rather held it up to her face and breathed in the scent.
"Mairead," Remus began, "I am so sorry. This was all my fault. I never should have brought you along for something like this. I don't know what I was thinking."
Mairead was slow to respond, like she had to swim to the surface of her thoughts. "Why are you sorry?" she asked hoarsely. "You didn't know."
"I should have known," he insisted quietly.
"How could you have?" she asked. Remus didn't think that telling her how he had fought and nearly been killed by her father when he was scarcely older than she was now would make for a good bedtime story, so he didn't answer.
Silence fell. Remus watched her stare into the fire, an unreadable expression on her face.
"Are you going to be all right?" he asked eventually.
Mairead blinked and looked over at him. "Oh, yes, I'm fine," she said, smiling in a way that was so obviously forced it broke Remus's heart to see. "Thank you, sir."
"Once you've finished your tea I'll walk you back to your dorm," he said.
"No, I'll be fine, Professor Lupin, but thank you," she said in the same false tone of forced collectedness. "You have to go back for the -" she broke off with a gasp. "What happened to the Boggart?" she asked him urgently.
Remus furrowed his brow. "It's gone," he said. "I took care of it."
"Did you trap it in the case?" she asked, looking distressed.
Remus shook his head and gave her a small smile. "There wasn't time for that," he explained. "I had to stop it attacking you, so I just got rid of it."
Mairead's mouth hung akimbo in dismay. "But you needed it!" she said.
Remus shrugged. "It's not a problem."
Mairead put her mug down on the coffee table and stood. "We have to go find another one," she said and started towards the door.
Remus leaned over the back of the couch to look at her. "Mairead, sit back down," he said, frowning.
"No! We have to go find another Boggart! It's my detention!"
"Detention's over, Mairead," said Remus, setting his mug down next to hers. "Don't worry about it."
Mairead squared off her body. "Why didn't you trap it?" she cried. "You needed it!"
Remus shook his head. "I needed to get you safe," he said gently.
Mairead looked at him in obvious distress. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.
The next thing Remus knew, Mairead had dissolved into heartrending tears.
Remus jumped to his feet and rushed over to the crying girl. "Mairead," he said imploringly, "please don't cry."
"It's all my fault," she said brokenly, burying her face in her hands.
"It's not your fault; it's my fault."
Mairead shook her head from behind her fingers. "I r-ruin everything," she sobbed. "I mess everything up and now I've gone and m-messed things up for you, too."
"You didn't mess anything up," said Remus as gently as he could. "Please don't, Mairead. Listen to me." But the girl only continued to cry.
Remus hesitated for a moment, then reached out and laid a hand gently on her shoulder. "Mairead, you're killing me," he pleaded softly.
Mairead did not take his words the way he had meant them. She drew back sharply. She opened her eyes and looked at him in distress, keeping one hand over her mouth.
"I'm sorry," she gasped, stepping further away from Remus. "You don't need this."
Remus shook his head in confusion. "No, Mairead -"
"No," she insisted. "You already have to find a new Boggart because of me. The last thing you need is me having a mental breakdown in your office."
"Mairead, that's not what I meant!" he said sharply, but the girl wasn't listening. She swiped her hands roughly across her face and looked around until she spotted her bag where she had left it by his desk. She strode over to pick it up. Remus followed her.
"Mairead, stay," he said imploringly. "Don't go home like this."
"No, I'm sorry. I'm gonna go. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she repeatedly apologized, her voice weak and tremulous.
Remus watched her bleakly as she slung her bag over her shoulder and walked towards the door. "At least let me walk you back to your dormitory," he negotiated.
"I'm fine," she said, and her voice only trembled a little. "I'm sorry about this, Professor Lupin. I really am." Her voice broke and she turned to go.
"Mairead," Remus tried once more, but she was already backing out of his office.
The door clicked shut softly. Remus stared at it.
How exactly did he manage to keep monumentally fucking up with this girl?
...
Mairead seriously considered skivving off Defense Against the Dark Arts the next afternoon. She couldn't stand the thought of the talk Professor Lupin was sure to have with her.
I'm sorry, Mairead, I really am. I was overly optimistic about your prospects. The truth is, if you can't even manage to face a Boggart without falling apart, there is simply no way you are up for the lessons we talked about.
She cringed internally every time she thought about the previous night, or the conversation that was inevitably ahead of her.
Ultimately, she decided it was best to get it over with.
She hurried into class moments before the bell, too ashamed to meet Professor Lupin's eye, and took a seat in the back of the classroom.
She was distracted throughout the entire lesson, which was on Shielding and Blocking Spells. Professor Lupin explained that they would go over the theory that day and begin practical applications the next week. Though she tried to take notes, she wound up snapping two quills and had to ask to borrow one from Francie.
When the bell sounded at the end of the lesson, Mairead took a deep, fortifying breath, and walked her usual route past Lupin's desk.
She felt her stomach drop and closed her eyes briefly when she heard him say, "Could I have a moment of your time, Mairead?"
She forced a smile onto her face and nodded. She waited by his desk while he smiled at her departing classmates. When it was just the two of them, Professor Lupin turned his dark grey eyes on her. He had this way of looking at her that was both unsettling and enormously comforting. It was like he could see past every facade, past every defense she put up to protect herself, straight into her soul, into the very core of who she was, but he never made her feel as though he didn't like what he saw, never made her feel as though she wasn't enough. Normally she would blush and look away, but she knew that if she stood any chance of salvaging things, she had to show some courage, so she met his gaze steadily. Let him look. Finally he spoke.
"How are you?" he asked. Mairead could tell from the tone of his voice that this wasn't a mere pleasantry.
She swallowed. "I'm fine," she said, pleased to hear that her voice came out calm. He studied her for a few moments more.
"You don't look as though you slept," he remarked.
Mairead darted her gaze away from his eyes, hoping he wouldn't see that he had guessed the truth. Mairead had known better than to try to sleep last night. She knew what nightmares would be in store for her the minute she lost consciousness, and so she had stayed up all night in the Common Room, making use of the time to study. Rather than answer, she decided to dive right in.
"I lost it last night," she said. "I'm sorry."
At last Lupin broke his gaze. He looked down at his desk and Mairead was startled by the look of shame that crossed his features before he settled back into his usual calm exterior. "Last night was not your fault," he said quietly but firmly. "It was mine."
Mairead opened her mouth to argue but he held up a hand and she closed it again.
"You hold none of the blame for last night," he insisted. "I was in charge. You were in my care, I let myself get distracted, and I lost control of the situation. I am sorry."
Mairead tried once again. "But I -"
"I don't want to hear any arguments, Mairead. You were completely blameless in what happened last night," Professor Lupin said, then one corner of his mouth turned up ever-so-slightly and he added, "You are not allowed to feel guilty."
Mairead felt a tiny smile tugging at her mouth. "'Kay," she whispered.
"I also wanted to assure you that we're not going to be starting with anything as challenging as Boggarts in our lessons," Lupin went on. "Though I am confident you'll quickly work up to them."
Mairead's eyebrows shot up and she gaped at him in surprise. Was he not backing out?
"That is... as long as you are still willing to work with me," Lupin said slowly, watching her expression.
"I - that is - I thought - of course I'm still in," Mairead stuttered. "I thought you wouldn't want to anymore."
Professor Lupin raised an eyebrow. "On the contrary," he said with a small smile. "I'm more determined than ever."
Mairead smiled so widely she had to bite her lips to contain herself. "Okay, thanks," she said bashfully.
"After all," he went on, grinning now. "Who knows how many more times you're going to curse at Professor Snape and land yourself in detention?"
Mairead laughed. "I don't know," she challenged. "How many times am I going to be nonverbally jinxed by his minions?"
"None, if I've got anything to say about it," said Professor Lupin, sobering. He tilted his head to one side. He seemed to be thinking of something, but Mairead had none of his mind-reading skills, so she was left in the dark. Finally, he said, "By the way, you've been looking rather thin since you got out of the Hospital Wing. Are you feeling all right?"
Mairead raised her eyebrows again. "Well, I had a beak instead of a mouth for six days," she said slowly, "and all I could digest were slugs, maggots, and flies. Rather than dine on that smorgasbord I opted for a little fasting."
"Hmm," Professor Lupin smiled crookedly. "Well, I would like to see you gain some strength back. This work will take a lot out of you, and I want to be sure you have the energy to devote to it. So I'd like you to start eating more."
Mairead frowned slightly at his odd request, but she nevertheless said, "All right."
"Starting today," he added.
"Okay."
"Tonight. In the Great Hall," he ordered.
Mairead's frown deepened. "...Okay..." He was behaving very oddly.
Lupin took a breath. "Tonight in the Great Hall, I want to see you there eating. Say around six twenty... seven. Between six twenty-seven and, I would say, six thirty-five. I want to see you there. In the Great Hall."
Mairead stared at her teacher. Was he ill again? "O...kay," she said dubiously.
Professor Lupin raised his eyebrows expectantly. "So..." he said, clearly awaiting a response.
"...I'll eat more," Mairead repeated, not trying to hide how strange she thought he was being.
"Tonight."
"Yes, tonight!"
"At what time?" Lupin prompted.
Mairead scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I will be in the Great Hall tonight between six twenty-seven and six thirty-five stuffing my face. Happy?"
Lupin smiled at her in a way that struck her as being extremely mischievous about something. "Yes."
...
Mairead walked into the Great Hall at six fifteen that evening. She looked up at the staff table for Professor Lupin and saw him chatting with Professor Flitwick. She hesitated before sitting down at the Hufflepuff table. She wondered whether she should try to catch Lupin's eye to show him that she was there.
"Mairead!"
Mairead turned and saw Edgar trotting towards her, an enormous grin on his face. She returned his smile and greeted him.
"I've done it," Edgar said breathlessly.
"Done what?" Mairead asked.
"I've gone and asked Jonathan out," Edgar said, chest swelling with pride. "We're going to the match together on Saturday!"
Edgar looked so happy he could burst. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, full of barely-concealed excitement. Mairead's smile grew into a broad grin. "That's excellent!" she enthused. She held up a hand for a high-five. Edgar wound up his arm and smacked his hand into hers so hard that Mairead's arm snapped backwards and the back of her hand collided painfully with the back of a chair.
"Owww!" she complained, but she was so pleased for her friend that it came out mostly as a laugh. Rubbing the back of her hand, she teased, "Guess I know how Jonathan likes it." She waggled her eyebrows as Edgar let out a surprised shout of laughter.
"Heard you've got a date for the weekend, too," Edgar said, raising an eyebrow.
Mairead frowned. "What? No," she said.
Edgar's eyebrow went further up. "Really?" he questioned. "I thought I heard you were going out with Patrick Daily this weekend."
"Oh, that," Mairead waved a hand dismissively. "We're just getting coffee and he's helping me catch up on what I missed in Potions. It isn't a date."
Edgar's other eyebrow joined the first. "Hmm," he said, unconvinced. "Might want to tell him that."
"Don't be thick," said Mairead. "Patrick and I are just friends. We've been friends for years. There's nothing there. Believe me."
Edgar held up both hands in surrender. "If you say so, sis," he said. "Have fun getting coffee this weekend. I'll be getting something else."
With a final suggestive crooked smile, Edgar walked off to his own table. Mairead followed the boy with her eyes and watched him sit down between Ansel and Roger Davies, who was looking perfectly windswept and rosy-cheeked as though he had just come in from flying. Mairead supposed he probably had, as it was his team that would be facing off against Slytherin that weekend.
With a sigh, she sat down. She glanced up at the Head Table and saw that Professor Lupin was looking at her. She smiled goofily at him and then gave a tiny bow to make a show of demonstrating she had followed his instructions. Instead of responding to that, Lupin pointed to Mairead, then pointed to the back of his hand.
Okay? he mouthed, looking concerned and tapping the back of his own hand where Mairead had hurt hers.
Pleasure bloomed in Mairead's stomach as she blushed and nodded. She pulled her lip into her mouth to control her smile. She glanced back up at the staff table and saw that Lupin had gone back to his conversation with Flitwick, but as she watched him, she saw that his eyes kept flicking back over to her. The next time she caught him looking at her she made a big show of piling a mountain of potatoes onto her plate. And the next time he looked over she looked straight at him and shoveled an enormous spoonful of mashed potatoes into her mouth.
Lupin put a hand over his mouth and his shoulders shook as he ducked his head to look down at his plate. Though she couldn't hear him, Mairead was certain he was laughing.
She was soon distracted by the arrival of Cedric, who sat down heavily beside her.
"All right?" she asked him, finally looking away from the High Table and over at her best friend.
Cedric shook his head while pouring himself a goblet of pumpkin juice. "If Ravenclaw beats Slytherin this weekend we're done for," he said grimly.
"How good are their chances?" Mairead asked.
Cedric leaned his forearms on the table and pushed his hair out of his eyes. "Pretty good," he said. "They've got this new Seeker, Cho Chang? She's brilliant. And your boyfriend's no slouch, either."
Mairead whapped Cedric in the chest. "Say it a little louder, why don't you?!" she hissed at him.
"Hey!" he said indignantly, but he was chuckling. "Are you trying to take the Hufflepuff Captain and Seeker out of commission and remove all doubt of our impending loss?"
"I avoided your arms," Mairead said haughtily.
Cedric shook his head. "Anyway, all the Slytherins really have going for them are those new broomsticks Malfoy's dad bought them all last year."
"Yeah, but didn't you say they have all the same team members from last year?" Mairead recalled. "Doesn't that give them an advantage?"
Cedric shrugged. "Not if they were never particularly good to begin with. Flint just keeps them on the team because they're bulky. Speaking of bulky," he added, eyeing Mairead's plate, which was piled high with more food than she could realistically eat, "are you trying to set a record or something?"
"Oh, this," said Mairead. "Lupin said he wants me to - what the...?" She had glanced back up at the staff table as she spoke and saw something very peculiar.
Professor Snape, who was sitting a few seats along from Lupin, appeared to be having some trouble with his soup. As Mairead watched, Snape raised a spoonful to his mouth, but the spoon tilted at the last minute, and the soup dribbled down his chin.
Looking irritated, Snape swiped his napkin across his face impatiently before picking up his spoon again.
"What are you looking at?" Cedric asked.
"Snape!" Mairead hissed as though worried the irascible Potions Master would hear her. "Look!"
Snape dipped his spoon back into his soup and raised it once more. This time, he barely got the spoon out of the bowl before his hand jerked violently and the spoonful of soup splashed him in the face.
Mairead clapped a hand over her mouth. She could hear stifled snickers from the surrounding tables. Snape looked furious. He made a gesture as if to push the bowl of soup away, but his fingers appeared to convulse of their own accord. Snape seemed to be struggling to release his hold on the sides of the bowl. His teeth were bared as he jerked and tugged at his arms. Suddenly, something gave. Snape's arms snapped back but his grip on the bowl remained, and a shout of surprise went around the Great Hall as he flung the contents of the bowl into his own face.
"Holy shit!" Cedric whispered under his breath.
Mairead stared, transfixed, at her tormentor at the staff table. Snape looked shocked and outraged. He reached for his napkin but just as his right hand closed around the fabric he slapped himself across the face with his left. Mairead gasped. Snape continued to slap himself with both hands. The entire hall was watching now.
Mairead glanced over at Professor Lupin, whose brow was furrowed in concern. Lupin began to rise to help. Before he could reach Snape, however, the fingers of the Potions Master's right hand curled into a fist.
"Noooo!" Snape growled as his arm wound up. Snape tried to move his face out of the way, but it was no good. He punched himself in the jaw so forcefully that his chair tipped over backwards and he knocked himself out cold.
There was a great commotion as the other faculty clustered around Snape's unconscious form. Many students were howling with laughter, but they broke off abruptly when Professor McGonagall revived Snape and helped him sit up. Hagrid and Professor Lupin both moved to help Snape to his feet, but Snape angrily brushed their hands away. He rose to his feet and stormed out of the hall through a door behind the High Table.
As soon as he left, giggles and snorts began echoing in the hall again. Mairead watched as Professor Lupin returned to his seat. He raised his goblet to his mouth and took a drink, and as he did his eyes flickered to Mairead for the briefest of moments.
Mairead frowned, a sudden thought occurring to her. She groped at her wrist to feel for her watch, but she wasn't wearing it.
"Wouldn't happen to have the time, would you?" she asked Cedric, who had gone into Prefect mode and was quietly admonishing Hufflepuff students to calm down.
Cedric raised his left arm and shook his sleeve out of the way, then consulted his wristwatch. "It's six twenty-nine."
Mairead's mouth dropped open. She looked back up at the staff table. Lupin was now involved in a conversation that included Flitwick, Hagrid, and Professor McGonagall. He frowned thoughtfully at something McGonagall said and nodded, the picture of innocence.
"No way..." she whispered.
...
The following evening, Mairead sat behind the desk in the library, writing an essay and eating a bag of crisps. She tried to chew quietly, as she had drawn a few disgruntled looks from nearby students. Perhaps she could have chosen a better snack.
She put down her quill and read over what she had so far for her essay. She paused and frowned at an awkwardly phrased sentence in her essay, a crisp poised halfway to her mouth.
"You Irish with your potatoes," came a warm, familiar voice that made a smile spread across Mairead's lips.
She looked up and grinned cheekily at Professor Lupin. "You English with your spotted dick," she replied, wrinkling her nose at the thought of the so-called dessert.
He smiled back easily and put his hands into his pockets. "I'm not English; I'm Welsh," he said.
"Oh, really?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Hmm." Mairead considered him for a moment before shrugging and twirling the crisp in her fingers. "I'm just trying to bulk up like you told me to."
"Ah, yes," said Lupin, still smiling crookedly at her. "Well then, don't let me interrupt you."
He made to move away towards the stacks, but Mairead impulsively said, "Wait!"
Professor Lupin turned back with a politely expectant expression. Mairead looked down and fiddled with the crisp, grinding down a rough edge against the table. "Erm, so... by the way..." she began hesitantly. "About what you said, about eating in the Great Hall?"
"Yes?"
Mairead looked piercingly at him. "Was it you?" she asked.
Lupin looked puzzled. "Was what me?" he asked.
Mairead gave him what she thought he would interpret as a significant look, but he only looked at her blankly. "The... the soup?" she said. "With Snape?"
Professor Lupin's eyebrows twitched. "Oh, were you there for that?" he asked casually.
Mairead frowned slightly. "Yes, of course I was," she said. "I was there when you told me to be."
"When I told you to be?" said Lupin mildly, tilting his head to one side in confusion. "I didn't tell you to be there at any specific time."
Mairead scoffed. "Yes, of course you did!"
Lupin frowned. "Not that I recall," he said slowly. "I merely asked that you consume more calories to make up for the deficit we'll be creating with the extra lessons."
Mairead stared at him incredulously. "You absolutely did!" she insisted. "'Between six twenty-seven and six thirty-five.' That's what you said!"
Professor Lupin looked at her as though she was being entirely unreasonable. "Mairead, I don't presume to have your schedule memorized," he said. "Take your meals when you like. All I ask is that you take all of them."
It was Mairead's turn to tilt her head to one side as her mouth opened in wonder. "It absolutely was you!"
Lupin raised his eyebrows. "What was me?" he asked innocently.
"You jinxed Professor Snape at dinner last night!" she replied, being careful to keep her voice low to avoid attracting the attention of nearby students.
Lupin frowned. "Mairead, are you accusing me of attacking a faculty member? A colleague?"
Mairead raised an eyebrow and put her hands flat on the desk. "Okay, fine," she said. "If it wasn't you, then who was it?"
Professor Lupin pursed his lips and clicked his tongue. "We still don't know," he said seriously, folding his arms and looking down.
He's a really good actor, Mairead thought. She almost bought his innocent act; he came so close to convincing her. But then, for the merest half second, Lupin's eyes flickered to hers and all she saw in them were mischief and boyish glee.
"Whoever is responsible is being surprisingly... nonverbal."
...
Song for this chapter: Street Fight, by Smallpools (Remus)