...
Chapter Nine: DefenseThe following Wednesday, Mairead scaled the stairs to the second floor and shoved a hand into her pocket, fishing around for the piece of parchment that was folded inside. As she walked towards Professor Lupin's office, she unfolded the paper and looked at it for what must have been the hundredth time.
Two days ago, she and Professor Lupin had spent their Monday evening meeting compiling a list of spells students were taught in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Mairead had brought an armload of books from the library to supplement Professor Lupin's personal collection, and the two had sat side by side, flipping through books, consulting one another, and scribbling down ideas.
Mairead had gotten more enjoyment than she cared to admit even to herself from their proximity. At one point, Lupin's knee had spent a few minutes pressed against hers under the table. Once he had noticed, he had promptly apologized and shifted away from her, and she had pretended she hadn't even realized they had been touching, when in fact it was all she had been able to concentrate on.
They had ended their meeting with Professor Lupin creating a master list of all of the spells she would have to find a way to overcome. He had asked her to show him how her trick with copying text worked and she had bashfully shown him how she worked the Doubling Charm. He had effortlessly picked up the technique and made a copy of the list for her to keep. She was embarrassed by how many times she had pulled the list out since then, just to trace her fingers over his handwriting.
You are the most pathetic witch in the history of time, she thought to herself.
She looked up from the list when she arrived outside his office. His door was open, and she saw that Edgar was inside talking to Professor Lupin. She waited outside for them to finish up. She heard Edgar laugh at something Lupin said and smiled to herself. He's got such a great sense of humor, she thought dreamily.
After a minute or two she heard Edgar thank Professor Lupin. She shrugged off the wall and looked inside the office again.
"Hey, May!" said Edgar brightly when he saw her.
"Hey," she replied, smiling broadly at him. Professor Lupin looked up at the sound of her voice and smiled apologetically at her.
"I'm sorry, I'm running a few minutes behind," he said, rummaging among the papers on his desk. "I'll be ready soon. You're welcome to come inside and wait."
Mairead and Edgar shared a sly grin. By now it was common news among the student body that Professor Lupin's Achilles Heel was time management.
She reached out and put a hand on Edgar's shoulder as he reached the doorway. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask but I haven't seen you," she said quietly. "How did things go on Saturday?"
Edgar made a face. "Oh, we lost," he said bitterly. "We were so close! We absolutely would've won, but Marcus Flint grabbed a bat from one of the Beaters and whacked a bludger at Cho. You know, our Seeker? Knocked her off her broom. She got seriously hurt and might not be able to play for the rest of the season. And that's not even allowed! It's blatant cheating. Everyone knows that only Beaters are allowed to use those bats and Flint's a Chaser." Edgar puffed out a disgruntled breath that blew his fringe out of his eyes. "Anyway, so Roger knew we wouldn't be able to catch the Snitch so he had the Chasers try to get more than a hundred fifty points above Slytherin before Malfoy could catch the Snitch. We very nearly made it; we only lost by ten points."
Mairead nodded slowly, eyes unfocused and glazed over. Edgar raised an eyebrow as a corner of his mouth hitched up. "Erm, questions?" he added.
Mairead blinked a few times. "It's just... sorry," she said, brow furrowed. "What's a bolger again?"
Behind Edgar, she saw Professor Lupin fumble with a large book as he shot an incredulous look her way.
"Why did you even ask about the match if you don't know anything about Quidditch, May?" Edgar asked.
Mairead rolled her eyes and sighed. "I wasn't asking about the match," she said significantly. "I was asking about... the other thing."
"Oh!" Edgar's face turned slightly pink. A smile tugged the corners of his mouth upwards. "That went quite well. We're going to the next Quidditch match and the next Hogsmeade weekend together."
Mairead let her jaw drop open in happiness and raised her eyebrows. "The next Hogsmeade weekend's going to be Valentine's Day," she hissed. "It's always the first Hogsmeade weekend of Spring term."
Edgar's mouth grew into a full grin. "I know," he said, voice trembling with barely suppressed anticipation.
Mairead squealed quietly and grabbed one of Edgar's hands. "That's fantastic!" she whispered, still trying to keep her voice down so as not to disrupt Lupin's work, but doing a little happy dance with her feet nonetheless. She waggled her eyebrows significantly at Edgar. "Looks like it was a win for Ravenclaw after all," she added teasingly.
Edgar shoved a fist into his mouth to stifle a gleeful chuckle.
Mairead looked over, worried that they were distracting Professor Lupin, but it looked like he was ready for her now. He had stood up and was leaning against his desk, hands in his pockets and watching Mairead and Edgar with a small smile on his face.
"Well, 'night, then," said Edgar, waving goodbye to Professor Lupin and flashing one more cocky grin at Mairead before walking off, whistling jauntily as he went.
"Sorry, were we too loud?" Mairead asked Lupin anxiously.
"Not at all," he said. "I thought we could head over to the History of Magic classroom. We'll have more room to work there."
"Okay," said Mairead, nervousness suddenly crashing down on her.
"Ready?" he asked her.
She took a breath to steel her nerves and nodded. "Ready as I'll ever be to get jinxed and hexed."
"It'll be all right, Mairead," Professor Lupin said calmly. "I won't let anything happen to you. And don't forget: you're in charge. I won't do anything without your permission first."
Mairead took another shaky breath. "I know," she said as they walked out of his office together and set off for the first floor. "It's just, the last time I took an active role in Defense Against the Dark Arts I was being hexed by a dozen people all at once."
She looked up at Professor Lupin as she spoke. For the briefest of moments, she saw what looked like anger flit across Lupin's eyes, but it was gone so quickly she couldn't be sure she hadn't imagined it. "That won't happen again," he said. There was a dark note to his voice that Mairead was unaccustomed to hearing from him. "Severus and I... well, we've come to an understanding."
Mairead raised her eyebrows and snorted. "You understand Professor Snape?" she joked. "Do tell."
Lupin's mouth twitched. "More like he understands how strongly I feel about what happened to you," he clarified.
Mairead slowed and then stopped. Professor Lupin took a few more steps before realizing she had fallen behind him, stopped, and looked back at her.
"Is that why you jinxed him?" she asked, brow furrowed. "Because of what happened to me?"
Lupin raised an eyebrow and looked at her impassively. "I haven't the foggiest idea what you're talking about," he said coolly. "Are you coming?"
Mairead let out a little giggle before she could control herself. Collecting herself, she said, "Yeah," and hurried to catch up to him. She kept her eyes in front of her for the rest of the walk to the classroom, but she thought she saw Professor Lupin steal a glance at her as they walked.
"Right," said Lupin when they were inside the History of Magic classroom and had lit the lamps. "A lot of our time is going to be spent coming up with alternative ways to block curses, since countercurses are not available to us."
Mairead nodded, biting her lip nervously.
"But first, I think it would make sense to make sure you can handle yourself in the event you are unable to block something. How would you feel about beginning with a refresher of Finite Incantatum?"
"Okay," she said quietly. She could feel herself tensing up. What was he going to curse her with?
Once again, it was as though Lupin could read her mind. "Why don't you tell me what you would feel comfortable with me casting on you so you can practice? It doesn't even have to be a harmful spell to begin with."
Mairead frowned. "What, like a Cheering Charm or something?"
Lupin nodded. "A Cheering Charm sounds perfect," he said. "Are you ready?"
Taking a breath, Mairead withdrew her wand and watched as Professor Lupin did the same. They faced each other. Mairead could feel herself quaking with fear. Lupin didn't miss it.
"Mairead, I won't hurt you," he said softly. "I promise."
Mairead squeezed her eyes shut. "I know that in my head," she confessed. "Just ignore my body. It'll catch up."
"Are you sure that's what you want me to do?" he asked.
She nodded. "Just do it," she said, eyes still shut. She braced herself as she heard Lupin recite the incantation.
Mairead immediately felt better. All of her anxiety melted away, and it was as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She opened her eyes and smiled broadly at Professor Lupin, who was watching her closely. He looked so serious. Mairead let out a giggle, not bothering to stifle it.
"I don't know what I was so worried about!" she said, laughing again.
Professor Lupin smiled at her. "Go ahead with Finite Incantatum," he said.
Mairead laughed as though he had just told a clever joke. "You're such a good teacher, did you know that?" she said, putting a hand on her hip and regarding Lupin. "You're the best teacher at Hogwarts. Everyone thinks so."
Professor Lupin smiled, but he looked more amused than flattered. "Thanks very much, Mairead," he said. "You can cancel the charm now."
"No, I mean it!" Mairead insisted through another giggle. "You're also the nicest teacher. You've got to be the nicest person on the planet. You're, like, my all-time favourite person."
Lupin looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. Mairead wished he would. She loved laughter and laughing and it was always better to laugh with somebody else. She laughed just thinking about it. "Well, I appreciate that," he said. "I'm ready whenever you are."
Mairead frowned at him. "Don't you believe me?" she asked. "You don't believe me because of the spell, but it's true. Ask anybody! I'll go get somebody!" she began marching towards the door, intent on finding another student to back up her claims. "Edgar or anybody'll tell you."
Lupin reached out a hand and touched the crook of her elbow lightly to halt her progress out of the room. "Why don't you cancel the spell and tell me again yourself?" he suggested.
Mairead made a tsking sound and said, "Fine, then you'll believe me." She pointed her wand at herself, waited for another bout of laughing to pass, and said, "Finite Incantatum," impatient to prove to Lupin that she wasn't just complementing him because of the spell.
The effects of the Cheering Charm faded as quickly as they had begun, and as they faded, realization of how giddily and foolishly she had behaved set in. Mairead hid her face in her hands and groaned, humiliated at herself.
"Oh, God," she moaned. "I'm sorry."
"I may have overdone it with the Cheering Charm," said Lupin. She could hear his voice quiver slightly.
"For the record," she said, voice muffled from behind her hands, "You are being really nice right now."
"Ah," said Lupin, and peeking from between her fingers Mairead could see his eyes twinkling mischievously. "But am I still your all-time favourite person?"
"Hey, I've got an idea," Mairead said, lowering her hands. "Let's practice Memory Modification. I'll go first."
Lupin threw his head back and laughed wholeheartedly. After a few seconds, Mairead began giggling herself. By the time they collected themselves, she felt better.
"Let's have another go," Lupin suggested. "This time I'll go easy on you."
They practiced with Cheering Charms a few more times before moving onto more challenging spells. Mairead agreed to let Lupin perform the Leg-Locker Curse on her, and he conjured up cushions behind her to break her fall. Lupin then instructed Mairead to practice nonverbally in the event she was hit with a spell that would prevent her from speaking.
"Excellent!" he cried when Mairead managed to end the Curse so quickly she was able to catch herself before she fell. "We have a few minutes left," Lupin said checking his watch. "Think you can give this a go wandless?"
"Oh, sure," said Mairead. She was feeling much more confident than she had at the beginning of the hour. Setting her wand on Professor Binns's desk, she faced Lupin once again.
Lupin raised his wand and said, "Locomotor Mortis!"
Mairead felt the now-familiar sensation of her legs seizing up and clamping together. She focused her energy the way she had learnt to when she had practiced wandless magic last term to avoid using her disaster of a wand. She wasn't quite as quick as she had been, and she felt herself topple over, but by the time she hit the cushions, her legs were free.
"Well done!" said Professor Lupin, smiling broadly as Mairead clambered to her feet. She was positive she would be sore tomorrow. "I think we'll end there this evening. Next Monday I think we should start on blocking spells. What do you think?"
"Yeah, sounds good," said Mairead, trying to rub her bruised tailbone without Lupin noticing.
"You did quite well this evening, Mairead," Lupin said sincerely. "I was very impressed."
Mairead stared at the ground and shook her head. "Nah, this was easy stuff," she denied. "I'll be lousy at everything else."
Lupin was quiet for a few moments, then he said, "I doubt that very much."
Mairead and Professor Lupin chatted casually while extinguishing the lamps in the History of Magic classroom, then Lupin bid her a good night at the stairway as he headed upstairs towards his office and Mairead went down to her Common Room. She was unable to keep a smile off her face as she recalled Professor Lupin praising her. He had said he was very impressed by her.
She bit her lip and could feel herself blushing. Who needed a Cheering Charm, anyway?
...
Mairead couldn't believe how much her fortunes had turned around in only a few short weeks. Every time she thought about how close she had come to dropping out of school she felt dizzy with relief, as though she had been looking over a precipice to contemplate the long fall and had stepped back at the last minute.
Her new wand was like a dream. She still found herself pulling it out and cradling it in her hands a month after she had purchased it. She loved running her fingers along the grain, marveling at how smooth the wood was. She now understood what a proper breaking in period was supposed to feel like. Unlike with the wand she had returned, which she had struggled to get any results from that weren't complete mayhem, her new wand had functioned superbly from the start, and as time went on and she worked with it more, it only seemed to meld more with her particular style of doing magic. This was a bond she had never experienced, even with her first wand. While magic had always been fascinating to Mairead, she had always felt as though she were on the outside looking in. She had always needed to work at it harder than her classmates did. Now for the first time, Mairead found a joy in performing magic that had always eluded her.
Previously, when a professor had assigned her class to practice a spell in between classes, Mairead would think about the spell and might make a halfhearted attempt or two at it, but she had never truly practiced, instead relying largely upon theory and winging it in class. Now that she got so much enjoyment out of magic, she found that she was far more likely to practice spells and charms in the evenings and on weekends. Though she supposed it shouldn't have come as a surprise, she was stunned to find that her grades steadily improved throughout the month of January.
Her professors seemed to be surprised by her improvement as well. One day in mid-January, when she was the first student in Transfiguration to turn an armadillo into an armchair, Professor McGonagall asked whose work it was, despite the piece of furniture being right in front of Mairead.
"Is this your armchair, Miss O'Keefe?" Professor McGonagall had asked in disbelief.
"I don't think so," Mairead had responded, just as shocked.
When McGonagall had surmised that the armchair was, indeed, Mairead's work, she had been so pleased with Mairead that she had rewarded Mairead with a rare smile and fifteen points to Hufflepuff. Mairead had started to cry.
So far at least, Mairead had also managed to keep her grades up in Potions, despite the fact that Snape had taken a definite disliking to her. He regularly deducted points from her for everything from talking in class (she had been answering a question) to writing too loudly with her quill. He seemed to be staying away from her grades, though, for which she was immeasurably grateful. She wanted to believe that this was due to her hard work and dedication, but she had a sneaking suspicion it had more to do with the fact that she had subtly threatened to get Dumbledore involved if he tried to fail her again. Nevertheless, she worked diligently to earn her grades and now met regularly with Patrick Daily to study. She had forgotten how much she liked Patrick. The two had always had a friendly, if somewhat distant, relationship and she welcomed the opportunity to spend more time with him.
Mairead finally felt released from the haze of depressed exhaustion that had cloaked her for the second half of the Fall term. She felt her old energy and curiosity return to her, and though she had less spare time than ever, what with the copious amounts of homework her professors were assigning, study group with Patrick, and her lessons with Professor Lupin, she still found time to do what she loved best: tinker.
Her latest fascination was with a Muggle office product called Tipp-Ex. It was a white liquid that Muggles used to paint over mistakes in documents. Edgar had told her about it over the summer and, though he had only mentioned it casually, she had instantly been fascinated. So fascinated, in fact, that Edgar had given Mairead a bottle of it for her birthday back in December. The smell was pungent, but she nevertheless loved writing nonsense on parchment paper and covering it over. She wondered whether she could create a potion that would have a similar effect, as all wizards could do when they made a mistake was cross it out or start over again. She had made two tries at it so far. The first one had done nothing at all, and the second one had made the entire scroll of parchment disappear.
It was this puzzle that was occupying Mairead's mind one weekend in late January, which she was spending working in the library. She was nibbling on a sugar quill and flipping through a book called Have Yourself A Fiesta in a Bottle! by Libatius Borage in the hopes of finding an idea or two she could use. She saw mention of an ingredient that looked promising and went to write it down, only to realize that her real quill was by her side and that she had dipped her sugar quill into the bottle of ink by mistake.
"Oh, gross," she whispered to herself, and looked around to find a wastebasket to dispose of the mess. Her temporary bad mood disappeared instantly when she saw a certain teacher with soft-looking grey-flecked hair and kind, intelligent eyes walking towards her with a stack of books.
"I've done that more times than I care to admit," he said, nodding towards her ruined sweet.
Mairead pulled a face. "It's my own fault," she admitted. She pushed her things aside to make room on the desk for him to set down his pile of books. "Checking out?" Lupin nodded and Mairead pulled open the faculty drawer and quickly located his file. She reached for the top book and realized that Professor Lupin wasn't borrowing books on the Dark Arts, but rather books on Charms and general spellbooks. Mairead knew she wasn't supposed to comment on what library patrons checked out, especially not faculty members, but she couldn't help but glance curiously up at Lupin as she closed Where There's a Wand, There's a Way and reached for Extreme Incantations.
Lupin noticed her curiosity and smiled at her. "These are for us," he explained. "I think we're ready to move on to dueling."
Mairead blinked at him in surprise. "Really?" she asked.
"Really," he said in a satisfied sort of way.
Mairead's lessons with Professor Lupin were going better than she had thought they would. They weren't as action-packed as she had thought they would be, which was fine by her. Much as she relished any moment spent in Lupin's company, her favorite evenings by far were the ones they spent in Lupin's office drinking tea and combing through books, brainstorming alternative spells to use as counterspells, and getting onto some tangential subject and winding up getting completely sidetracked telling each other stories from their lives. Though he wouldn't share any identifying details, Mairead had learned that Professor Lupin had apparently been quite the troublemaker when he was a student at Hogwarts, and several times he had her doubled over laughing as he recounted pranks he and his friends had played. One evening they had run over their ending time so far with "one last story" after "one last story" that Lupin had had to walk Mairead back to her dormitory because she was returning past curfew.
Mairead had been anxious at first that she was wasting Professor Lupin's time with chit-chat and had consciously tried to cut down on the times she allowed herself to get distracted. After a while though she realized that Lupin was sidetracking them just as often, and seemed to be enjoying their side conversations just as much as she was.
While Mairead didn't love the idea of dueling, she had grown so devoted to Lupin that she would do whatever he suggested. Which was why, instead of feeling terrified and that she would rather leave the country than be on the receiving end of a highly accomplished wizard's wand, she grinned deviously and said, "Should I bring a second?"
Professor Lupin laughed. "I've got dibs on Professor Flitwick," he joked in a low voice.
Mairead twitched an eyebrow. "Fine. I call Dumbledore."
...
The following Monday evening as Mairead approached Professor Lupin's office, she could hear music floating along in the air down the hall. His door was open, and she paused in the doorway, looking in.
Lupin was sitting at his desk, and the upbeat music was coming from a battered-looking gramophone in the corner. It looked like he was grading papers. He was frowning thoughtfully as his eyes skated across the roll of parchment he was reading. He scratched his chin with the end of the quill in his right hand, and as Mairead watched, he used his left hand to brush his hair out of his eyes, then rested his face in his palm. Mairead couldn't keep herself from smiling as she saw his lips moving to the lyrics and his fingers tapping against his mouth in rhythm to the song.
Mairead leaned against the doorway and quietly watched, partially because she did not wish to disturb her professor, and partially because her heart ached with longing at the sight of the man in a rare, unguarded moment.
Though she didn't move a muscle or make a sound, it wasn't long before Professor Lupin looked up and saw Mairead standing in the entrance. He smiled and beckoned to her.
"Come in. I'll be done in a minute or two."
Mairead walked in, bouncing a little on her toes to the beat of the song.
"What was that song?" she asked when it ended.
"'Jackie Wilson Said,' by Van Morrison," Lupin answered with a slightly wistful smile.
Mairead shook her head and shrugged.
"Oh, really?" said Lupin. "I thought you might know him. He's an Irish Muggle songwriter."
"Nope. I liked it though," she said, then added, "Who's Jackie Wilson?"
Professor Lupin raised both eyebrows. "You don't know who Jackie Wilson was?" he asked in disbelief. When Mairead shook her head, he pushed himself away from his desk and stood. "Well, we're about to remedy that," he announced and strode over to his gramophone. He knelt down on the floor and began riffling through a large collection of records housed in a milk crate. Mairead hesitated for a moment, then walked over to stand near him.
After a minute of searching, Lupin pulled a record out of the crate. "Here," he said, offering it to Mairead. "Put this on while I finish up."
Mairead took the record and looked doubtfully at the gramophone. "Erm..." she said hesitantly. She fluttered her free hand over the record player but was too afraid to touch it. Lupin smiled at her uncertainty.
"Here, I'll show you," he said, reaching for the record.
Mairead readily handed it back and watched as Lupin lifted the arm of the gramophone, removed the Van Morrison record, and carefully replaced it in its sleeve. He handed the Van Morrison record to Mairead, pulled the other record from its jacket, and placed it on the turntable.
"Records have an A side and a B side," he explained to her. "More recent records can have multiple songs per side, but the old records only had two songs on them: one on each side. You place the record on the turntable, wind it up, and make sure it's set to the correct speed." As Lupin spoke, he demonstrated how to perform each step. "Finally, you lower the arm to the outer edge of the record. Do you see the grooves in the record? That's where the song is recorded. There's a needle at the end of the arm that runs along the grooves and reads the sound."
He gently lowered the needle. It crackled and hissed for a few seconds, and then a jaunty bass guitar solo floated out of the speaker. It was joined after a few notes by a tambourine and percussion, and then a few beats later a guitar began strumming along. The song was so uplifting that Mairead felt a smile spread irresistibly across her face as a man began singing jubilantly.
Mairead looked up to see the same wide grin on Lupin's face. She was unable to stifle a giggle of happiness.
"I really like this," she said. Lupin looked elated. The two shared a giddy smile for a few more moments before Lupin blinked and cleared his throat.
"I just want to finish marking this essay," he said over the music. "Feel free to put on whatever you'd like while you're waiting." He gestured to his record collection and resumed his seat behind his desk.
Mairead knelt down next to the milk crate and gingerly flipped through a few.
"I'll preserve the order," she promised Lupin over her shoulder.
"Oh, they're not in any order," he responded vaguely, once again absorbed in the essay.
Mairead huffed indignantly and shot an offended look over her shoulder at her professor, then promptly made herself comfortable on the ground. By the time Lupin pushed the essay aside she had sorted his records into neat piles around her.
"What are you doing?" he asked with a chuckle.
"Organizing," she mumbled. Peripherally she could see Lupin rise and stretch, then lean against his desk to watch her work.
"Don't think you're going to get out of dueling this way," he teased her.
"I don't think that," Mairead said as she picked up a pile of records and began shuffling them around. "Look at it this way: if I kill you in a duel, do you really want to leave this jumble to be sorted out by your beneficiaries?"
Lupin snorted. "I doubt anyone would be interested in my record collection," he said wryly.
"What are you talking about? This is a great collection!" Mairead insisted. "There's a ton of Muggle music I've never heard of in here, and I love Muggle music. Where did you get all of these?"
"Here and there," said Lupin vaguely. Mairead turned and looked anxiously at him, worried she had accidentally tread on a sore spot. Noticing her concern, he smiled. "My mother was a Muggle," he explained.
"Was?" Mairead repeated quietly.
Lupin nodded. "Was," he confirmed.
Mairead lowered her gaze sorrowfully. "I'm sorry," she murmured.
"It was a long time ago," Lupin said gently. He came over and knelt down on the floor next to Mairead. "A lot of these older records belonged to her, and the rest I've picked up over the years." He reached past Mairead and picked up a record by a band called The Platters. He smiled as he looked at the cover. "She loved this song," he said. Mairead looked over his shoulder and saw that the A-side was a song called Smoke Gets in Your Eyes. He pulled the record from its sleeve and replaced the Jackie Wilson record on the turntable.
Mairead listened as a slow ballad began to play through the speakers. When the male singer's voice soared up to express the power of his love, Mairead's breath caught and she wrapped her arms around her middle, like she was holding herself together. She blinked rapidly, hyper-aware that Professor Lupin was watching her.
"She and my Dad used to dance to this in our sitting room," he recalled with a fond smile. Then, frowning thoughtfully, he added, "There's this other song I've never been able to track down. It was one of her absolute favourites. She listened to it all the time. I guess she must've worn the record out, because it wasn't in her collection when she died."
"What was the song?" Mairead asked curiously.
Lupin shook his head in frustration. "I wish I knew," he murmured fervently. "I can't remember it, just that she loved it."
Mairead frowned. "Do you remember anything about it at all?" she pressed.
Lupin pursed his lips. "I just remember that the singer was really bad at school," he said with a slightly twisted smile. "I've tried and tried to find it over the years, but I've had no luck."
Mairead chuckled. "Yes, I've noticed there are a few songs with a school theme," she said gesturing to the pile of records. "Do you remember anything else?" Lupin shook his head. "Was the singer male or female?" Mairead pressed.
"Male," Lupin answered.
"Was the song fast or slow?"
"Slow, I think," said Lupin, pondering this. "I'm fairly certain it was a ballad - a love song."
Mairead thought for a few moments. "When is the earliest memory you have of her listening to it?" she asked.
Lupin thought for a few moments. "When I was three or four, I should think," he said thoughtfully.
Mairead nodded. "What year were you born?" she asked.
"Nineteen sixty."
"Okay, so it would've come out in nineteen sixty-four at the latest. That's actually a fair amount to go off," Mairead said. "I bet if I -"
Lupin smiled slyly at her and cut her off. "Don't think for a second you're going to get out of dueling, Mairead," he said. "On your feet. Let's go."
Mairead stuck out her lip in a pout. "But I work in a library," she whined playfully. "You can't really expect me to just drop this, can you?"
Lupin stood up and offered her his hand. "Nice try," he said, pulling her to her feet.
...
An hour and fifteen minutes later Mairead scurried back to her dormitory, hurrying to get back before curfew. Her face hurt from smiling. Though she could scarcely believe it, she had had the time of her life dueling with Lupin. She replayed some of her favorite moments from the evening as she changed into her pyjamas and crawled into bed.
She knew that Lupin had taken it seriously easy on her, but she had nevertheless successfully blocked nearly half of his attacks and had surprised the both of them with some of the spells she had come up with to lob at him. Mairead smiled and giggled quietly to herself as she remembered a moment when she had conjured an enormous rubber duck that had repeatedly hurled itself at Lupin's head. He had laughed so hard at the inane squeaking sound it made every time it bounced off him that he had had to lean against Binns's desk for support.
He looked so much younger and healthier when he was smiling and laughing. His eyes lit up with a warm, happy glow that made Mairead's stomach turn backflips. She could feel herself blushing and pulled the covers over her head. Sarah Quimby was always making disparaging comments about Lupin's shabby clothes and complaining that she missed heartthrob Gilderoy Lockhart, but Mairead disagreed entirely. She thought Remus Lupin far handsomer than Lockhart had ever been.
And he's not nearly as old as I used to think he was, Mairead thought to herself in the dark. She quickly counted on her fingers and realized that he was only thirty-three or thirty-four. Fifteen or sixteen years older than me, she thought, before shaking her head to rid herself of thoughts of things that could not be.
One thing was for sure, though. She planned to start hunting for that record tomorrow.
...
Remus bundled together his Sixth Year students' essays on Shield Charms and set them aside, having just finished grading them. He reached for the glass safely tucked away in a corner of his desk and took a small sip of his celebratory wine. He had slipped into the kitchens after Gryffindor's victory against Ravenclaw earlier that day and asked for a glass. The House Elves had insisted upon giving him an entire bottle.
Remus couldn't remember the last time he had had an entire bottle of wine. Alcoholic beverages were a luxury he could ill afford most of the time. He had decided to wait until that night to open it. He had allowed himself one glass (albeit a generous one) and had put away the rest of the bottle, determined to make it last as long as possible.
He sat back in his chair and smiled widely to himself as he thought of Harry's performance at the match. It was like watching James flying up there. Harry moved as naturally through the air as if he had been born on a broomstick. While Harry was Gryffindor's Seeker and James had been a Chaser, Remus had been overwhelmed by nostalgia watching the son of two of his best friends dive and swoop, make hairpin turns, and draw gasps and applause from the crowd of onlookers.
And Harry's Patronus... Remus shook his head and took another sip of wine. The boy had been making slow progress in their lessons and was at a point where he managed to produce an incorporeal Patronus fairly reliably, but this was the first time Remus had seen Harry's corporeal Patronus. Looking at the stag that had burst from Harry's wand and charged down Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had been like seeing the ghost of Prongs galloping through the air.
Remus sighed, took one last sip of wine, and got back to work. He checked his watch. One thirty in the morning. He wanted to get one more stack of essays graded before going to bed. What with Harry's anti-Dementor lessons on Thursday evenings and Mairead's Defense lessons on Mondays and Wednesdays, Remus's work was piling up a bit more than it had been last term. He didn't care, though. He had always slept fitfully anyway, and seeing Harry's Patronus made any lost sleep well worth it.
Mairead was doing astonishingly well with her lessons, as well. Remus had to admit to himself that he had underestimated the girl. He had put on a confident face for his student, whose low self-esteem often seemed to be her biggest obstacle to succeeding, but secretly he had felt they were rushing into dueling and had only proceeded at Dumbledore's urging. He had no other choice, though: it was already February and the Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. would take place the second week of June. They needed to cram an entire year's worth of learning into each month in order for her to be ready. Though he never would have told Mairead this, Remus had been highly skeptical they could have her ready in time, but Mairead surprised him. He had long thought highly of the girl, but it wasn't until he started working one-on-one with her that he had realized that, hiding behind her self-effacement and quirky personality, she had steel lacing her bones and ice running through her veins.
Mairead certainly did her house credit with her work ethic, and perhaps it was Remus's bias showing, but he still felt that a witch who could be blasted backwards over and over and rise to her feet and direct her attacker to do it again... well, if you asked Remus that kind of person simply belonged in Gryffindor.
Remus set aside his glass of wine, promising himself the remainder when he finished grading, and reached for another stack of essays. He had finished the top essay and was reaching for the second when a plume of green fire flared up in his fireplace. He dropped the essay and turned quickly in his chair.
"All faculty and staff members will please report to the staff room immediately," came Dumbledore's voice.
Remus jumped to his feet, grabbed a handful of Floo Powder from a wooden box on his mantle, tossed it into the flames, and stepped inside.
"Hogwarts staff room," he said.
When he stepped out of the fireplace, he saw that he was one of the first to arrive. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, the latter of whom was in her dressing gown, were the only other faculty members present, though Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout stepped out of the fireplace within moments.
"What's going on?" Professor Sprout asked, pinching her nose between her thumb and forefinger and stifling a yawn.
"Sirius Black has invaded the castle once again," Dumbledore announced when everyone had arrived. A collective gasp ran through the group.
"Where?" Remus asked sharply.
Dumbledore regarded him seriously. "Gryffindor Tower," he answered gravely. "Ronald Weasley awoke to find him standing over his bed holding a knife."
Remus felt a burst of adrenaline hit his system, and he raised his voice above the exclamations of his colleagues. "Was anyone hurt? Where was Harry -"
"No one was injured, and Harry is safe," Dumbledore assured the group.
"Weasley reported that he raised the alarm and Black fled as soon as he began shouting," said Professor McGonagall.
"How long ago was this?" Snape asked quietly.
"No more than ten minutes ago," McGonagall answered.
"That's more than enough head start," Professor Flitwick observed.
"Agreed," said Dumbledore. "We must begin searching immediately."
"I'll search the first floor," Remus promptly offered.
Snape gave Remus a piercing, calculating look. "I'll go with you," he said silkily.
"No," Dumbledore objected. "All Heads of House must first go to their houses and alert their Prefects. Prefects are to stand guard at the entrances and make sure no one enters or leaves except their Head of House. Assign a special password that only you and your Prefects will know."
Remus waited impatiently while patrol units were assigned. He was assigned the first floor as he had initially offered, and Professor Sprout would join him as soon as she was finished in the Hufflepuff Basement.
Remus knew that it would be most sensible to start in the Entrance Hall, set up an alarm of some sort at the doors, and work his way out from there.
He knew this, but immediately set out for the library, nevertheless.
When he arrived he saw that the doors to the library were closed and the corridor was empty. He placed a hand over the handle to the library doors and heard the tumblers click as the door unlocked at his silent command.
Remus slipped into the library silently. He chose not to light his wand, instead relying upon his sensitive eyesight to maintain the element of surprise should he find Black in here. He wandered through the stacks, whispered, "Homenum Revelio!" in the invisibility section, and lingered for a few moments behind the help desk.
Once he was satisfied that the library was empty, Remus slipped out as quietly as he had entered, locking the door on his way out. He tightened his grip on his wand and headed for the Entrance Hall.
Professor Sprout was there by the time he arrived.
"Is everything all right in Hufflepuff Basement?" he asked the older witch.
She nodded. "Everything is fine there. The students are quite frightened, so some of the older students are singing and telling jokes to keep the younger children calm."
"Is everyone present and accounted for?" Remus pressed. "No one is missing?"
"No, they're all there," Professor Sprout said.
"You're positive?"
"Yes, of course," said Professor Sprout, looking politely puzzled.
Remus felt a knot in his stomach that he had been ignoring release itself. He took a calming breath.
"Let's split up," he suggested.
Remus and Professor Sprout divided the floor in two, and agreed upon a distress signal. Then, with a final nod, Remus turned and walked off, on the hunt for his former best friend.
...
Mairead poured herself a second cup of coffee. She was one of the only students in the Great Hall, most having decided to have a lie in after Professor Sprout gave them the all clear at dawn. But Mairead was due to work in the library at ten, and aside from that had been too frightened to try to go back to sleep, so she had decided to eat a large breakfast and try to power through the day that way.
Yawning hugely, she poured an extremely generous amount of brown sugar into her oatmeal and rubbed at her eyes, which were blurry from lack of sleep.
"Mairead!"
She looked around and saw that Patrick Daily had just entered the Great Hall and was jogging towards her. Mairead rose to her feet just as Patrick arrived and pulled her roughly into his arms. Surprised, Mairead returned the embrace as Patrick tightened his arms around her and buried his face in her shoulder.
"I was so worried," he murmured, rocking her back and forth slightly.
"Why were you worried about me?" she asked, her voice muffled against his shoulder, which was digging uncomfortably into her throat. "Black was in your tower! I was practically on the other side of the castle."
"Right, but I can defend meself, so," Patrick argued. "You'd be... I don't even want to think about what could have happened to you."
Annoyance pricked at the back of Mairead's mind, but she told herself that Patrick was being sweet so she let it go.
"I'm fine," she said soothingly.
Patrick pulled back and looked at her. "Thank God," he said sincerely. He tipped towards her as though to hug her again but she slipped out of his embrace, not wanting to be inadvertently choked again, and sat back down.
He sank down into the chair beside Mairead and decided to take his breakfast at the Hufflepuff table. Patrick told Mairead what it had been like in Gryffindor Tower and shared Ron (Oops, she thought to herself, I've been calling him Rob all year) Weasley's account of his encounter with Black. Mairead told Patrick about how terrified the younger Hufflepuff students had been at the thought of a second invasion, particular once it sank in that Black had made it all the way into one of the dormitories. She told Patrick that she, Statia, and Benedict of all people had finally resorted to songs and slapstick to get them to calm down, and how the three had been on their feet nearly the entire night providing distraction for the children.
"I'm fecking exhausted," Mairead said through a yawn.
"Why don't you have a lie-down?" Patrick suggested. "If you're afraid to be alone you're welcome to kip in my dorm room. I'll stand watch."
"Thanks," Mairead said with a smile, "but I've got to work at the library soon. Better head over now, in fact."
She rose to her feet.
"Will I see you after?" Patrick asked. "We could go for a walk or something?"
"Sure, that sounds grand," said Mairead, liking the idea of getting some fresh air and shaking off the feeling of claustrophobia that pervaded the air.
"I'll pick you up after work," Patrick said. "Have a good day."
Mairead smiled at him. "Thanks, you too."
...
Remus woke with a start when the record ended. He had dozed off at his desk. Taking a deep breath that turned into a yawn, Remus scrubbed his face with his hands and turned to whatever essay he had been reading when he had nodded off.
Ah, yes. Percy Weasley's essay. No wonder he had fallen asleep.
Remus checked his watch. Half past four. He did not have time for a nap, but he did have time for a walk around the school grounds to wake himself up. Vowing to finish Percy Weasley's essay first thing upon his return, Remus grabbed his cloak and swung it around himself as he exited his office.
It was a beautiful, cool day, and Remus gratefully inhaled the fresh air as he walked. This was absolutely what he had needed after a stressful, sleepless night searching the castle for Black, who had once again eluded capture. Remus couldn't say he was surprised. Black had always been one of the cleverest wizards Remus had ever known, and his knowledge of the castle was probably greater than that of anyone alive today.
But not necessarily greater than that of someone who would be alive today were it not for Black's betrayal.
Remus fought not to let his thoughts take a dark turn. He had come out here to clear his head, not to fill it with murderous thoughts of vengeance. He looked around for something to distract himself from the hatred and misery howling in his chest and saw Hagrid walking a grey hippogriff on a long, leather leash. Remus caught the man's eye and waved, trudging over to him through the snow.
"Afternoon, Remus," said Hagrid with his usual warm, beaming smile.
"How are you, Hagrid?" Remus asked, bowing to the hippogriff before coming any closer. The hippogriff eyed him dubiously for a long time. Clearly he could sense that something was off about Remus. Most animals and magical creatures could tell that Remus wasn't entirely human. Finally, the hippogriff returned the bow.
"Goo' boy, Beaky," Hagrid praised the hippogriff enthusiastically. "This here's Buckbeak. Reckon ye've heard abou' him?"
Remus nodded. "I'm sorry for all the trouble you've had. Has there been any movement?"
Hagrid jerked his head, looking nervous. "His hearing in London's comin' up," he said. "Haven't been able ter sleep nights. 'Course no one likely slep' las' night."
Remus hummed in agreement. "Do you have a sense for how well Buckbeak's hearing will go?" he asked, wanting to keep the topic off Sirius Black.
"Should have a decent chance," Hagrid grunted, resuming his walk. Remus fell into step beside him. "Had some help from some o' the students. Researchin' and like."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Remus offered.
"Nah, bu' thanks. How're yer classes gettin' on?"
"Well enough," said Remus. He and Hagrid chatted as they strolled around the grounds, Remus having to take two long strides for every one of Hagrid's. They traded classroom stories and tips, and before Remus knew it they had circled back on Hagrid's cabin.
"Fancy a nip?" Hagrid offered as he released Buckbeak into a paddock next to his home.
"Thanks, but I've got to be getting -"
"'Ere now, wha's this?" Hagrid interrupted him. Remus followed his gaze over towards the lake, where a few students were gathering around two others. Remus instinctively tipped one ear towards the lake and could faintly hear raised voices carried to him on the breeze.
The two men shared a look and set off for the lake without a word. As they drew closer, Remus began to be able to pick up on what was happening. The two students in the center appeared to be arguing. One voice was male and one was female. A lovers' quarrel?
"You've got to be taking the piss!" he heard the male say angrily.
"Patrick, I'm sorry," the girl said in a pleading tone.
"Don't fecking 'I'm sorry' me!"
"Well, what do you want me to say?!" the girl's voice rose in frustration, and Remus felt a jolt of alarm as he recognized the voice as belonging to Mairead O'Keefe. He quickened his pace, but the shortest path to the lake cut through places where the snow had formed deep drifts, and he struggled not to fall over as he went.
"I want you to explain to me how you can fucking sleep at night, leading blokes on like this!" the boy shouted. Remus did not like the tone in his voice at all. He sounded more than angry; he sounded ready for violence.
"Leading you on?" Mairead repeated. "I never led you on!"
"Yeah, you did."
"I did not!"
The two bickered back and forth, talking over one another before Patrick - Remus was now close enough to recognize Patrick Daily, a Seventh Year from Gryffindor - exploded.
"FOR CHRIST'S SAKE, MAIREAD!" he hollered. "WHAT THE FUCK D'YOU CALL IT, THEN? I've been tutoring you in Potions for months, so!"
"And I appreciate that," said Mairead steadily.
"I'M NOT FINISHED!" Patrick roared. Mairead fell back a step, looking alarmed. "I brought yer bloody homework to the Hospital Wing for three bloody weeks! I've been checkin' on ya, bringin' snacks and coffee and the like to you in the library and listening to you prattle on and on about - about fecking what? Feckin' magnets and electricity?! Fecking nonsense, is what. Now answer me this: just why would a bloke choose to do that? Huh? You tell me."
"Because we were friends," said Mairead, sounding hurt. "I thought we were friends."
"Well, I don't want to be just friends!" Patrick snarled. He pointed a finger accusingly and jabbed it at her. "And you knew that. Don't stand there and fuckin' pretend you didn't know that."
Mairead shook her head. "I didn't," she pleaded. "Patrick, I didn't."
"Gobshite," Patrick spat. "Ye've been leading me on all fecking year. Takin' advantage, so. That's what you've been doing. You stick me in friend territ'ry and you know I'll do whatever you ask, and ye just take and take and take."
Remus was now panting as he pushed his way through the snow as fast as possible. He found himself slipping and skidding down into Hagrid's tracks as they went.
"How dare you?" Mairead hissed at Patrick. "I've never asked you for anything! I never asked you to check on me. I never asked you to bring me anything at work! I never asked you to do any of that!"
"Yeah, but I did it, didn't I?"
"What do you want, a medal?" said Mairead acidly.
"I WANT A FUCKING DATE! I'M ENTITLED TO ONE FUCKING DATE FOR ALL THAT!" Patrick bellowed.
"Righ'. I've seen enough," Hagrid growled, pulling out his umbrella.
"No!" Remus said urgently, clapping a hand over the umbrella. "The other students are too close. You could hit one of them. We have to get closer."
Mairead took a step closer to Patrick. "You are NOT entitled to me!" she shouted. "I don't owe you a date. I don't owe you a goddamn thing! You told me the other day that Eleanor Kernwood asked you out and you turned her down. She's always been a good friend to you. I know she tutored you in Astronomy, and when you had Dragonpox she practically did all your homework for you. Didn't you owe her a date?"
"That's -" Patrick faltered. "That's got nothing to do with this! Ellie and I are just friends."
"Ellie didn't want to be just friends," Mairead pressed. "Ellie wanted to go out with you. After all she's done for you, isn't she entitled to one date?"
"That's not the same thing at all!" Patrick said hotly. "Don't try and make this a sexism thing!"
"It's absolutely a sexism thing," Mairead rejoined, folding her arms. "Ellie did the same thing and you think it's okay to tell her you just want to be friends with her but you think you're entitled to me when all I want is to be friends with you."
"Well, I don't WANT to be FRIENDS with you!" Patrick towered over Mairead and leaned his face very close to hers as he shouted at her.
Mairead tilted her head to one side. "Well, that makes two of us," she said coldly. She started to walk past Patrick but he sidestepped and blocked her path.
"Let me by," she said.
"How can you say that?" Patrick snarled at her. "I was nice to you when no one at this school would even TALK to you! They wouldn't even LOOK at you!"
"If you acted that way to try to get me into bed then you weren't being nice; you were being manipulative," Mairead said evenly.
She turned and started to walk away but Patrick grabbed her roughly by the arm and yanked her back to him. "Don't you fucking walk away from me, you fucking Death Eater," he snarled. Reaching behind her with his other hand, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back. Mairead cried out.
Remus was still farther away than he would have liked to be, but he was out of time. "MOVE!" he roared at the onlookers, who looked in his direction, saw him tearing towards them with wand in hand, and scattered.
Patrick leaned in and brutally crushed his mouth against Mairead's. She struggled wildly but he easily overpowered her.
Remus stopped running and took careful aim with his wand. Patrick had pinned Mairead's thrashing body to his, and Remus knew there was a good chance he would hit her by accident.
Before Remus could do anything, however, a frying pan appeared out of thin air and cracked Patrick hard on the side of the head.
Patrick stumbled away from Mairead, clutching his cheek. "What the -?" He looked up and saw Mairead aiming her wand at his chest.
"Walk away, Patrick," she warned, panting.
Patrick's lip curled. "What're you gonna do, Squibbie?" he sneered. "Make me an omelet?'
Mairead flicked her wand and dozens of eggs began falling from nowhere. They landed on Patrick's head one by one, cracking on contact and oozing down his face.
"Eat up, darling," she drawled sarcastically. Once again she started to back away, but Patrick wiped the mess from his eyes and started towards Mairead.
Mairead waved her wand in a complicated pattern and steam gushed out of it. She aimed for the snow at Patrick's feet, which melted instantly. Then, changing her wand pattern, the water re-froze into ice. Patrick slipped and went down hard on his knees.
With a roar of fury, Patrick reached into his robes and withdrew his wand.
Several things happened all at once. Patrick's wand flew out of his hand and into Remus's at the same time that Mairead cried, "Scourgify!" and soap bubbles filled Patrick's mouth, preventing him from reciting any incantations. Meanwhile, there was a loud crack! that rent the winter air and Patrick let out a garbled cry and clutched his wand hand to his chest as Remus's Stinging Hex hit him.
Mairead's eyes followed the trajectory of Patrick's wand and Remus watched her shoulders sag with relief when her gaze alighted on him. He and Hagrid closed the remaining distance between themselves and the crowd of students, who all parted to let them through.
"Finite," Remus muttered at Patrick, who was on his hands and knees sputtering and choking on soap bubbles.
Patrick took a ragged gasp of air and pointed at Mairead. "Did you see what she did to me, Professors?" he gasped. "She attacked me!"
"Wait'll yeh see what I'm gonna do ter yeh if yeh ever lay a hand on a woman like tha' again," Hagrid snarled, grabbing Patrick by the back of his shirt and hauling him none too gently to his feet. "Up ter the castle with yeh!" he barked. "Professor McGonagall'll be mighty int'rested ter hear what yeh've been up to."
Maintaining his grip on the back of the boy's shirt, Hagrid half steered, half dragged Patrick up towards the castle.
"Let's go, Mairead," Remus said quietly. He tipped his head in the direction of the castle and guided her away from the small crowd of onlookers, who were clustering closer now that the spells had stopped flying.
He stole a sidelong glance at Mairead as they walked. She had wrapped her arms around herself and looked nervous, like she thought she was in trouble. Remus saw that her bottom lip was bleeding.
Once they were far enough away from the crowd, Remus stopped and faced her, waiting for her to do the same.
"Are you all right?" he asked her, watching her face closely.
Mairead nodded, but seemed unwilling to look him in the eye. "Are you angry at me?" she asked in a tiny voice.
Remus's eyes widened in surprise. "Angry at you?" he asked. "Why on earth would I be angry at you?"
Mairead looked at the ground. "You heard what Patrick said. I attacked him," she mumbled. Remus raised an eyebrow.
"I saw the whole thing, Mairead. Patrick attacked you," he said gently. "You were defending yourself. I'm sorry I didn't get there faster."
Mairead glanced quickly up at him as if trying to detect a lie. Remus saw that her lip was swelling and that blood was now trickling down her chin. He withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and reached up to wipe the blood from her face but Mairead flinched and jerked away.
Remus froze instinctively. He was used to people who knew about his condition not wanting him to come anywhere near them, and for one panicked half second he was convinced that she had worked out what he was. After all, the girl had seen both his corporeal Patronus and his Boggart. But then Mairead's eyes focused on the handkerchief and a look of embarrassment at being caught out crossed her face, and Remus realized that he was not the only one acting on instinct. His chest tightened painfully as he realized that Mairead had probably been conditioned to be head-shy when it came to men.
"Here," he said softly, offering her the handkerchief. "Your mouth is bleeding."
"Thanks," Mairead said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. She accepted the handkerchief and wiped her mouth with it, pulling it away to examine the blood.
"You missed a spot," said Remus, brushing a finger against his own mouth to indicate where.
Mairead hesitated for a moment, looking at the handkerchief, before offering it back to him. "Will you do it?" she asked quietly.
Remus locked eyes with Mairead. He knew this wasn't about her wanting a perfectly clean face.
She's trying to tell me she trusts me again, he thought to himself.
He accepted the handkerchief from her, slowly, slowly raised it to her face, and dabbed the blood off as gently as he could. She kept her eyes on his the entire time, and this time she didn't flinch.
"There," he murmured when he had finished. "Lovely as ever."
"Thanks," she whispered, still watching him. "And thanks for saving me," she added.
Remus smiled crookedly at her and forced a laugh, turning and continuing to walk towards the castle. "Saving you?" he joked mildly. "I was saving Patrick. You clobbered him."
Mairead laughed breathlessly.
"You did marvelously, Mairead," Remus said sincerely. "I was very proud."
Mairead smiled shyly at him for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders up close to her ears. "Let's hope Professor McGonagall feels the same way. I'll probably be expelled after Patrick's done spinning his version of events," she said bitterly.
"I doubt that," Remus disagreed. "Hagrid will make sure Professor McGonagall gets the correct story."
Mairead fell into a brooding silence and glowered at the ground as they walked. After a while, Remus once again asked, "Are you all right?"
She pursed her lips and nodded. "Just frustrated," she mumbled.
"You have every right to be frustrated," Remus said. "You'd have every right to be angry, too. What Patrick did was completely unacceptable."
Mairead's lip curled. "I hate Gryffindors!" she suddenly spat out.
Remus fought to keep a straight face. He knew from experience that she was a force to be reckoned with when she was angry, but when her anger wasn't directed at him it was actually kind of cute. Of course, he thought wryly to himself, her anger might very well be directed at me if she knew what House I was in.
"Surely you don't think they're all bad," he said, unable to keep a teasing note out of his voice.
"Yes, they are," she stubbornly insisted. "They're arrogant, pompous, loud-mouthed, narcissistic, show-off tossers who think that recklessness is the better part of valour." Remus couldn't quite stifle an amused snicker as Mairead really got going. "They're so bloody entitled!" she fumed. "They think that all they have to do is hold the door for someone and they deserve a million galleons and the Order of Merlin First -" she broke off suddenly at the sound of Remus snorting. She looked sharply up at him and Remus couldn't wipe his face blank quickly enough before her eyes widened in dismay at the amusement he was sure was written plainly on his face.
"Erm," she said in a small voice. "What house did you say you were in when you were a student here, Professor Lupin?"
Remus couldn't resist grinning wickedly at her. "I didn't."
They had arrived at the entrance to the castle. "Here, let me get the door for you," he said. "I can think of a lot of things I would do with a million galleons."
...
Author's Note: What are you all thinking? Are you enjoying the story so far? I'd love to hear your thoughts!
Songs: No soundtrack song for this chapter, but the songs that were playing in Remus's office were: "Jackie Wilson Said (I'm in Heaven When You Smile)," by Van Morrison, "(Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher," by Jackie Wilson, and "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes," by The Platters.