Author's Note: Special thanks to GraceMonroe for the review! I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I wanted to give you a teeny heads up (spoiler alert) that things get... a little spicy in this chapter. Not, like, ghost pepper spicy. I would say, maybe chipotle spicy? Anyway, hope it's not too much. Let me know what you think!
...
Chapter Twelve: Isn't He a Bit Like You and Me?"Roger..."
"Mairead..."
"Roger."
"Ohh, Mairead."
"Roger - I need to go!"
"You need to what? Why? Stay here."
"I told you, I have to meet with Lupin at eight."
There was a brief shuffling of limbs.
"It's already eight-fifteen. Just skiv off and tell him you were sick."
"It's WHAT?!"
There was a thump and an undignified-sounding "Oof!" and Mairead came bursting out of a supply cupboard and took off down the corridor, buttoning her blouse and tugging her clothing straight as she went.
Fortunately the cupboard she and Roger had been snogging in was also on the second floor, but Mairead was still winded by the time she arrived at Professor Lupin's office, and she had to hold onto the door frame for support.
"I am so sorry, Professor Lupin!" she gasped.
He took in the sight of her flushed face and messy hair and laughed. "Well, well, well," he said teasingly. "I never thought I would know what it felt like to be the earlier of two parties. I suppose I should be thanking you."
Mairead pressed the heel of her hand into her forehead in mortification. "I'm so sorry," she repeated. "It won't happen again, I promise."
"Where were you?" asked Lupin, a slight trace of concern entering his expression. "Are you all right?"
"I was..." Tasting Roger Davies's tonsils? "I'm..." Uncomfortably aroused? "I just lost track of time," she finally went with.
Lupin nodded, satisfied. "Well, I took the liberty of choosing the record this time," he said, waving a hand at his gramophone, which was playing a song Mairead hadn't heard before.
She tilted her head to one side curiously. The song sounded different from Lupin's other music. "What is this?" she asked.
"Rubber Soul," Professor Lupin replied, going over to his desk and gathering up some notes.
"I'm not familiar with them," said Mairead, joining Lupin at his desk. Lupin looked up, frowning slightly.
"Rubber Soul is the album, not the band," he said, looking surprised. "This is The Beatles."
Mairead shrugged. "Never heard of them," she said.
"What?!"
Mairead looked at Professor Lupin, who looked astonished.
"You've never heard of The Beatles?" he said incredulously.
"What?" she said defensively. "I can't be expected to know every Muggle band that's ever existed."
"Yes, but - " Lupin actually looked speechless. "The Beatles aren't just any Muggle band," he said when he finally found the words. "They're the greatest band of all time! You've honestly never heard of them?"
Mairead shook her head slowly.
"Abbey Road?" Lupin supplied.
"Nope."
"All You Need Is Love?"
"That's a nice sentiment."
"Hey, Jude? I Want to Hold Your Hand? Yellow Submarine? Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds?"
Lupin gaped at Mairead's blank expression.
"I thought you said you listened to Muggle music at St. Hedwig's," he said, still looking flabbergasted.
"Well, yeah," said Mairead, still feeling defensive. "But, like, you know, classic stuff."
"The Beatles are classic," Lupin argued.
"I don't know what to tell you," said Mairead.
Lupin raked a hand through his hair and walked over to look out his window. "What do you mean by 'classic stuff'?" he asked finally.
"You know: Bing Crosby, The Andrews Sisters, Perry Como. Classic stuff."
Lupin turned on his heel to face her. "Ah."
"What do you mean, 'ah'?" Mairead said jerkily, putting her hands on her hips. "Don't 'ah' me like I've just explained everything that's wrong with me."
The two looked at each other in silence for a few moments before they both burst out laughing.
"Am I interrupting something?" a cold voice sounded from the doorway.
Lupin looked past Mairead's shoulder and smiled at someone in his doorway. "Severus," he said pleasantly. "Good evening."
Mairead whirled around, instantly sobering, and took a tiny step backwards towards the safety of Professor Lupin. Professor Snape stood in the doorway, holding a goblet that was emitting heavy amounts of steam. His eyes flickered over Mairead, and she fought not to shrink further back.
"I've brought your potion, Lupin," he said, not taking his eyes off Mairead.
"Ah, yes, thank you very much, Severus," said Professor Lupin, striding forward and accepting the goblet from the other man. His hand flicked almost imperceptibly in the direction of the gramophone and it shut off. Snape's robes looked so pure black compared to Professor Lupin's faded grey robes that Mairead had the impression that they absorbed all surrounding colors.
"You'll want to take some more tomorrow, as well," said Snape, looking back and forth between Mairead and Lupin as he spoke. "If this time is inconvenient -"
"No, no, this is perfectly convenient," Lupin said breezily. "Thanks very much." He smiled warmly at the other man, whose face remained impassive.
"Then I'll bid you a good evening," Snape said silkily. He looked over at Mairead once more. "Miss O'Keefe," he said, bowing his head slightly as he backed out of the office.
Mairead blinked in surprise at his sudden, uncharacteristic display of courtesy. He was gone before she had gathered her thoughts enough to respond.
She watched as Professor Lupin pinched his nose and took a large gulp of the potion.
"Ugh," he groaned before taking another drink. "This potion is disgusting," he remarked casually over his shoulder to Mairead.
Mairead fought not to pry as she watched him continue to take large gulps, his face contorted in distaste.
"I woke up this morning feeling a little off," Lupin explained when he had finished. "Professor Snape was kind enough to bring me something he thinks will help."
Mairead nodded and quietly said, "Oh," as Lupin wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and sighed with relief.
It can't be Pepperup Potion or his ears would be steaming, Mairead thought to herself. Plus Madam Pomphrey keeps a supply of it in the Hospital Wing, so there'd be no need for Snape to make it specially.
She had no further time to devote to the thought, though, as Professor Lupin was smiling at her and suggesting they head off to the History of Magic classroom.
...
Mairead continued to brood over Professor Lupin's health as the week went on. He seemed perfectly well in Defense Against the Dark Arts on Tuesday, and energetically led the class in a practical session on the Imperturbable Charm, but when Mairead went down to breakfast on Wednesday morning, she received notes from two owls. The first was from her friend, Gus, and the second was from Professor Lupin, saying he was feeling ill and needed to cancel their meeting that evening.
Mairead gnawed thoughtfully on a fingernail as she walked down to the dungeons for Double Potions. She was so lost in thought that she didn't realize someone had sat down next to her until they said, "Hey."
Mairead looked over and saw Sarah.
"All right if I sit here?" Sarah asked.
Mairead regarded Sarah in silence. They hadn't spoken since November, when Sarah had participated in the group attack on Mairead. The voice in Mairead's head that fed her constant instructions on being polite and likable told her to smile and move on as if nothing had happened. That voice had been growing smaller and quieter since Christmas, but it still held power over Mairead, even though she was beginning to suspect that it didn't always give her the best advice. Finally, despite her misgivings, she nodded, and a smile broke across Sarah's face.
"So you forgive me?" asked Sarah, though she already knew the answer.
"Of course," said Mairead dutifully.
"Still friends?"
Mairead made herself smile. "Forever."
"I knew you wouldn't hold a grudge!" Sarah said cheerfully as she settled in on the bench beside Mairead. "How've you been, gorgeous?"
"Fine, thanks. And you?" said Mairead, but she didn't quite manage to get the tone of voice right, or the carefree smile that she knew was supposed to go along with it.
"I've been good - busy!" Sarah said, oblivious to Mairead's discomfort. She began chattering on about the friend feuds she was in (two), the boys she had slept with since Christmas (also two), and the job her mother thought she could get for her at Witch Weekly after graduation.
"That's great," said Mairead, both relieved and disappointed at how easily she fell back into her old pattern of being the mousy support and sidekick to Sarah. "You've always wanted to be a writer."
"I know!" Sarah said happily. "It's just a copy editing job, but Mum says there's real potential for moving up quickly."
"What department would it be in?" Mairead asked.
"That's the best part - features!"
Mairead smiled warmly. "That's -" she broke off suddenly as Professor Snape swept into the classroom and assumed his place at the front of the room. Everyone immediately fell silent.
"You can put your brewing supplies away," he said without preamble. "Today we shall be investigating a facet of potion-making that does not involve brewing but is nevertheless essential to becoming a safe and effective potion-maker."
He paused while everyone scrambled to be the first - or rather, not be the last - to stow away their supplies.
When they had finished, he went on. "Today we shall be discussing methods by which one can identify unlabeled potions," he said. "Can anyone tell me the dangers of failing to label a potion?"
Sarah shot her hand into the air and Snape nodded at her. "Because if you don't know what a potion is, you can't know what it does," she said promptly.
"Correct," Snape said. "Five points to Slytherin. Additionally, if one does not know the makeup of a potion, one cannot ensure its proper disposal."
Mairead's hand raced across her parchment while she scribbled notes. Snape's attitude towards her had not warmed over the past three months. If anything, his distaste for her only seemed to grow. While he still had left her grades alone, Mairead constantly felt that she was only one misstep away from being dismissed, this time with no recourse. Patrick had been flattering himself when he had called their study sessions 'tutoring,' but Mairead still knew that she could not afford to relax even for a moment in this class.
"There are several ways that one can attempt to identify an unlabeled potion," Snape went on. "Can anyone tell me one such method?"
Silence fell, and as Mairead raised her head slightly and looked around, she saw her classmates shooting panicked looks at one another.
"Anyone?" Snape prompted, his voice growing cold and displeased.
Tentatively, her heart thudding, Mairead raised her hand. Snape nodded to her.
"By smell?" she asked in a tiny voice.
To her shock, Snape bowed his head and said, "Yes, quite." She couldn't remember the last time he had spoken to her without sarcasm or vitriol.
"Any other thoughts?" Snape asked the room. When no one raised their hand, Snape turned back to Mairead. "Do you have any other thoughts, Miss O'Keefe?" he asked her.
She blinked rapidly in surprise. "Erm, you could attempt to identify it visually," she ventured. "By pouring a small amount into a clear vial, you could note the color, consistency, viscosity, and... yeah," she trailed off.
'And yeah,' she thought viciously. Brilliant mind at work, there.
"Well, well," Snape said softly, and Mairead gulped. "It appears that Miss O'Keefe is finally reclaiming her reputation in this class."
Mairead let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.
"What else?" Snape asked her.
Mairead cast her mind about desperately. Finally, she said, "You could try Golpalott's Method. By dripping the potion into various solutions and seeing how it reacts. You might not be able to identify it entirely, but you could narrow it down."
Snape shocked her by giving her a tight smile. "Five points to Hufflepuff," he said softly. He looked almost victorious as he said it, leaving Mairead more confused than ever.
She was given very little time to ponder Snape's sudden attitude reversal, however, as Snape began to pass out various potion ingredients and instructed the class to use their textbooks to identify them.
"Heard you finally snagged Roger Davies," Sarah muttered to her amid the low hubbub of ingredients being passed around.
"Oh, yeah," Mairead said, unable to keep a small smile from tugging at her mouth as she thought of Roger.
"How is he?" whispered Sarah, barely moving her lips even though Snape was on the other side of the room. "You know - in bed?"
Mairead could feel her cheeks burning. "Oh, erm, we haven't... we've only been dating for a couple of weeks."
"Well, what are you waiting for?" said Sarah, poking her with her elbow. "Get on that!"
Mairead busied herself with the small vial of honey golden liquid in front of her. Distracted by Sarah, she unstopped it, raised it to her nose, took a sniff, and promptly dissolved into a coughing fit as the acrid smell reached her nostrils.
"That's some kind of bile," she choked, wiping her streaming eyes and reaching for her textbook. Flipping to the index, she traced her finger down the list of biles and looked each one up until she found one whose physical description matched the liquid.
"What do you think it is?" Snape's voice came from above her and she jumped.
"Erm, is it - is it Armadillo Bile, Professor?" she asked meekly, her voice hoarse from coughing.
Snape twitched an eyebrow. "Correct," he said. He snatched the vial off the table and placed a tied bundle of flowering herbs down in its place. "Can you identify this?"
Sarah and Mairead peered curiously at the plant. Mairead reached out a hand and picked it up. The distinctive shape to the purple flowers tipped Mairead off.
"That's Monkshood!" she said.
Snape nodded. "And what are its other names?"
"Aconite and Wolfsbane," Mairead answered promptly.
"Indeed. And would you care to conjecture how one might identify a potion with this ingredient in it?" Snape asked.
Mairead furrowed her brow, calling on her work in the Greenhouses, as well as her studies in Herbology and Potions. "Well, for one thing it would taste just awful," she said slowly.
Snape raised an eyebrow. "Would you recommend putting unknown potions in one's mouth, Miss O'Keefe?" he asked, a trace of his usual sarcasm returning.
"No, absolutely not," she said quickly. She cast about for some other way to answer. "But it would probably smell bad, too. Bitter and somewhat musty. Like something going bad." She lifted the plant to her nose and took a whiff. Wrinkling her nose, she added, "Even the raw plant has a bad smell to it."
Snape nodded. "Aconite is also extremely toxic," he added. "Thus it is an ingredient in only a few potions. Can you name them?"
"Well the Wideye Potion, for one," Mairead said at once. "Then there are some tinctures that use it for salves," she added, remembering reading that in a textbook on Healing. "And I think there's one more..." She wracked her brain, saying the ingredient's name over and over in her head.
Aconite, aconite, aconite, monkshood, monkshood, monkshood, wolfsba-
"The Wolfsbane Potion," she said finally, giving herself a little smack on the forehead.
She glanced warily up at Snape, expecting him to be annoyed that it had taken her so long. He continued to surprise her, though, with a look of triumph.
"And how would one distinguish among the three?" he asked softly. The entire class had stopped what they were doing at this point to watch. Mairead could feel her palms sweating. What was Snape's angle? Was he trying to catch her out and make her look like a fool in front of the whole class? Was he building her up so that he could get more sadistic pleasure from bringing her down? She was determined not to fail, regardless of Snape's intentions.
"Well, the salve would be easy enough," she said confidently. "It would be solid at room temperature, as potions containing Aconite have to be kept hot in order to maintain a liquid consistency."
"Correct," Snape said. "Now the potions."
Mairead cast about in her head, striving to come up with the right answer. She recalled the Wideye Potion. They had brewed it in class in her Fifth Year and she had been one of a few of her peers who had then illicitly brewed it to get through their O.W.L.s, but she knew next to nothing about the Wolfsbane Potion. She pinched her top lip between her fingers, thinking hard.
"Do they look different?" she guessed hopefully.
"They look identical," Snape responded.
Mairead winced and took a shaky breath. She could remember the taste of the Wideye Potion. It had had a horrible, bitter taste that had been only slightly masked by large amounts of-
"Sugar," she breathed. She looked up at Snape. "Wideye Potion is one of the few potions whose taste can be - and often is - improved by sugar."
"Are you saying you would taste the potion, Miss O'Keefe?" Snape challenged her.
Mairead shook her head. "No, sir, I would just add sugar," she said. "If nothing happens, then it's Wideye. If... erm, something else happens, then it's Wolfsbane."
Snape stared at her for what felt like fifteen minutes, but which was probably only a few seconds. Finally, he announced to the class, "Wolfsbane Potion is rendered inert by the addition of sugar. Adding only a few sugar crystals is sufficient to turn the potion into a clear liquid that resembles - and is scarcely more effective than - mere water. Perhaps you will not fail this class after all, Miss O'Keefe."
Mairead felt like her very teeth were ringing with relief. Snape walked away to the other side of the classroom and proceeded to quiz another student.
When they were out of his direct line of sight, Mairead shot a wide-eyed, did-you-just-see-me-not-get-killed look over at Sarah, who pulled an impressed face and gave her a thumbs up.
"You know what you should do with your new lease on life, right?" Sarah whispered to her. Mairead shook her head.
"What?"
"Go shag Roger Davies's brains out."
...
Sarah wasn't the only one who wanted Mairead to sleep with Roger.
Roger also wanted Mairead to sleep with Roger. He lost no opportunity to make his wishes known.
Take one Wednesday evening at the end of March, for example. Roger had brought Mairead up into the Ravenclaw stands again, presumably to watch the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice for their final game in a few weeks. They had the stands to themselves, and Roger assured Mairead that the Quidditch players were far too focused on their practice session to notice a couple snogging in the back of the stands.
"Lie back," Roger whispered to Mairead, leaning forward to push her backwards with his chest.
"Oh... erm... Roger, can we..." Mairead protested weakly, half-heartedly pushing at his chest as she felt her back hit the scratchy wood of one of the long benches.
"It's all right, I know what I'm doing," said Roger soothingly. His hand slipped up her skirt and skated along her inner thigh.
Mairead gasped raggedly as she felt him trace the line of her knickers, then hook one finger around them and pull the fabric to one side.
"Roger, I don't... I think - oh, God!" she broke off and cried out as she felt his finger brush against her.
Roger smirked and twitched his eyebrows. "Can't pretend you don't want this, Mairead," he purred. "I've got the evidence all over my fingers."
He ducked his head and latched his lips onto her collarbone. Mairead's back arched at the sensation and she moaned shakily as the hand between her thighs continued to stroke her. Her hips bucked involuntarily as pleasure radiated out from her core and mingled with the embarrassment of being touched so intimately. She shifted her hips restlessly, trying to guide Roger's fingers to where she most wanted to be touched, but though Roger prodded around and swept his fingers along her slick folds, he never quite found exactly the right spot.
Roger pulled back and began undoing the buckle of his belt. Mairead sat up on her elbows and pushed herself away from him, overcome by nerves. She could see the fingers of his right hand glistening with wetness, and she felt her cheeks catch fire.
"Roger, I really don't think we should be doing this," she said breathlessly, pulling her skirt back down.
He smiled confidently at her. "Well, I really think we should be doing this," he said smoothly.
Mairead cast about for an excuse. "I've got Defense lessons in half an hour," she said. "There's not enough time."
Roger shrugged, unconcerned. "That's plenty of time," he said, flipping open the button to his trousers. Mairead's eyes followed his fingers and she could see a bulge right by his zipper. Her breath caught in her throat.
Mairead sat up and crossed her legs, squeezing her thighs together nervously. "Well, but... I can't go to him after that! He'd be able to tell. We could get in trouble."
Roger paused, looking annoyed but persuaded. After a few moments, a glint came into his eye.
"Well, you have to go, but I don't have to see Lupin," he said triumphantly. He reached for his fly again. "Want to find out what it tastes like?"
"Erm, maybe later?" she hedged. "I'd better get going if I want to get up to the castle in time."
Roger rolled his eyes and scowled. "You know, sometimes I wonder which of us you fancy: me or that precious Professor of yours," he said sulkily. He turned away from her and folded his arms, staring out at the Quidditch pitch.
Mairead felt a burst of anxiety, and she slid across the bench and wrapped her hands around one of Roger's arms.
"Don't be daft," she said softly. "You know it's you."
"Do I?" Roger challenged without taking his eyes off the pitch. "He's the one you're always running off to. You talk about him a lot. If I didn't know any better -"
"Well, fortunately, you do know better," Mairead said hastily. "You're a Ravenclaw. You know how important it is to do well in school."
Roger pursed his lips and didn't answer. Mairead leaned in and pressed a kiss against the side of his throat. When Roger didn't respond, Mairead tilted her head slightly and nipped his skin the way she knew he loved. He took a sharp breath in. Mairead trailed love bites up his neck to his jaw, and let her tongue dart out to brush his jawline. She continued upwards and when she reached the shell of his ear he turned suddenly and pressed his lips hard against hers. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he tipped her head back and kissed her forcefully. Mairead moaned and grabbed his shirt in her hands, letting him take back over.
Roger pulled away and looked at her puffy lips and hooded eyes smugly.
"If you change your mind," he said in a low voice. "I'll be up here."
He let her go and turned back to the practice session. Mairead stood up, swaying slightly on shaky legs, and made her way down from the stands.
She frowned to herself as she walked back up to the castle. Was her crush on Lupin really that obvious? Did she really talk about him that much? Anxiety gripped her as she thought about Roger's words. Had he just been pouting, or did he really suspect that there was truth to what he had said? Roger was clever; he was a Ravenclaw, after all (although he couldn't hold a candle to the intelligence and cleverness that sparkled in Professor Lupin's eyes). With a sudden feeling of panic, a thought occurred to Mairead.
If Roger's noticed, does that mean Lupin has, too?
Mairead was certain that she would die of embarrassment if word of her crush reached Professor Lupin. She couldn't let that happen, she just couldn't. Besides, she had fancied Roger for ages. She would be a fool to throw away a chance with the boy of her dreams for... for what? For nothing. There is nothing there, she told herself severely. Pull yourself together, for God's sake.
Mairead stopped by the girls' bathroom to comb the worst of the tangles out of her hair with her fingers and to dab some water on her face. She was feeling much calmer by the time she emerged. She decided that Roger was simply put out that she had rejected his advances and was trying to guilt trip her into staying with him. Professor Lupin had never done anything to indicate that she made him uncomfortable, and she was positive he would be uncomfortable if one of his students was behaving flirtatiously towards him. She had made it through seven months of the school year, and all she had to do was get through three more and she would be free. She would pass her N.E.W.T.s, get an O.W.L. in Defense, and never have to see Professor Lupin again.
The thought hurt more than she cared to admit.
Despite her detour to the girls' room, she still arrived at Professor Lupin's office fifteen minutes early. His door was closed, so she pulled out a book and settled down on the floor to wait, quickly becoming absorbed in the text.
"What are you reading?"
Mairead jumped and looked up to see Professor Lupin wincing apologetically.
"I didn't mean to startle you," he said.
"Oh, it's a book on electromagnetism that Professor Burbage lent me," she answered, recovering from her surprise. "I'm trying to figure out how your gramophone works."
"I can explain it again if you'd like," Professor Lupin offered.
Mairead shook her head. "No, you explained it perfectly last time. I guess it's not that I'm trying to figure out how your gramophone works so much as I'm trying to figure out why your gramophone works."
Lupin cocked his head to one side. "Oh?" he asked, his eyes lighting up with curiosity. "You have me intrigued."
Mairead nodded eagerly and pushed herself to her feet. "Well, you know what you said about the needle reading the peaks and grooves in the vinyl?" she asked. Lupin nodded. "Do you know what happens on the other end of the arm?"
Professor Lupin frowned. "I'm afraid I don't," he admitted.
Mairead held her own arm up and used it as an example as she spoke. "Well, as the needle bumps up and down, it actually causes the other end of the arm to move up and down, too." Here she pointed her finger to imitate the needle and moved her elbow up and down to demonstrate. She patted her elbow with her free hand and went on. "This end of the arm is encased in coils, and when it moves up and down it creates an electromagnetic field within the casing. That creates an electric current, which travels along wires to the speaker and causes a diaphragm inside the speaker to move in and out." She paused, held up a hand, and pulsed her palm forward and back. "The diaphragm's pulses recreate the sound waves that were produced in the original recording, and it's those sound waves that create the music!" She grinned, pleased with herself for remembering how it all worked. Professor Lupin smiled at her expression.
"Very interesting," he said, opening his door, standing back, and gesturing for her to go through ahead of him. "I didn't know that was how it functioned."
"Yes, but why does it function?" Mairead said, clutching the book to her chest as she sat down in her usual chair by his desk. "It's a well-documented fact that electrical devices get scrambled at Hogwarts. So why does your gramophone work?"
Lupin opened his mouth, then closed it with a frown. "Do you know, that is an excellent question," he said. "One that I don't know the answer to."
"Hah!" Mairead slapped the desk with her hand. "You don't know why it works, and Professor Burbage doesn't know why it works and guess what? I asked Professor Dumbledore and he doesn't know why it works either!"
Lupin grinned at her. "You've quite the mystery on your hands, it seems."
Mairead shook her head. "It's driving me up a wall," she said doggedly. "I've got to figure this out."
Professor Lupin looked at her in silence for a moment, a small smile on his face. "There is not a doubt in my mind that you will," he said sincerely.
Mairead beamed at him. Then, self-consciousness settled down around her and she found she couldn't look at him anymore. "Sorry, I didn't mean to go on about my magnets and electricity nonsense," she mumbled.
"No, not at all," Professor Lupin said hastily. "I think it's fascinating. I hope you'll keep me informed of what you find out?"
Mairead glanced skeptically at him. "You don't have to be so nice all the time, you know," she said somewhat resentfully.
Lupin chuckled. "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind while we're dueling tonight," he said teasingly. "On your feet."
He makes it so goddamn hard not to love him, she thought as she rose to her feet and followed him to the History of Magic classroom.
Mairead's thoughts were a jumble as they dueled. As a result, she got her arse kicked even more soundly than she usually did.
"You did tell me not to be nice," Lupin teased her as he helped her to her feet for the dozenth time.
Mairead laughed. "You really took that to heart, didn't you?" she teased back.
He smiled at her but didn't raise his wand again. "Anything troubling you?" he asked lightly.
"We're just behind schedule," she said, fiddling with a loose thread in her sleeve anxiously. Lupin frowned.
"We're not behind schedule," he said. "What makes you say that?"
"We're supposed to move onto Fourth Year stuff in April," Mairead said. "And I still have no idea how to handle a Boggart and I have no idea when you're going to spring it on me, and we're already going to lose a week of April because of the holidays and the O.W.L. are coming up in two months and... and -" she broke off when Lupin held up a hand.
"First of all, I thought we had agreed: I won't be springing anything on you," he said sternly. "That's not how this arrangement works. I'm not going to put anything in front of you that you don't have a plan to defeat. And personally I don't think that surprising students with sudden challenges they're not prepared for is particularly good pedagogy," he added.
Mairead squirmed where she stood, feeling guilty for accusing him.
"Second of all, I think we can move on to Fourth Year spells next month as scheduled and come back around to Boggarts," he said. He raised a hand again when Mairead opened her mouth to argue. "Mairead, your Boggart isn't a snake or a bat," he said gently. "You have faced very real terrors in your life and I don't think it's a good idea to subject you to trauma without a purpose. Please don't ask me to put you in front of a Boggart until we have a plan to make it quick and safe."
Mairead bit her lip and nodded. "'Kay," she whispered.
Professor Lupin nodded. "Okay," he agreed. "Now: there is one final spell I'd like to work on before we conclude Third Year. It's called the Revulsion Jinx. It's extremely useful in a number of contexts, particularly those in which a witch or wizard finds themselves trapped, held against their will, or otherwise bound. When performed properly, it releases the caster from whatever is restraining them."
Mairead nodded, already turning ideas for alternative spells around in her mind.
"Shall I show you how it works?" Lupin offered. At Mairead's nod, he indicated for her to come closer. "Here: grab hold of my arm." He held out his wand arm.
Mairead hesitated, then reached out and placed her hand lightly on his forearm. His faded robes had been worn and washed so many times that they were delightfully soft. Lupin smiled slightly.
"You can hold me tighter, you're not going to break my arm," he said wryly. Mairead laughed under her breath and tightened her grip.
"All right, ready?" he asked. Mairead nodded.
"Relashio!"
A sudden jolt went through Mairead's fingers and she felt her grip slacken. It didn't hurt, but it was as though she had completely lost the use of her fingers. Professor Lupin easily pulled his arm out of her grasp. As soon as she released him, she felt sensation return to her hand.
"Weird," she pronounced. Lupin nodded.
"I'm sure you can see how useful that jinx is," he said. "I'd like to see if we can come up with an alternative."
Mairead pulled her lips into her mouth and bit down. "How does it work again?" she asked.
"It forces whatever is holding you captive - be it a person or bonds - to release you."
"Hmm," said Mairead softly. "I wonder... erm, Professor, would you grab my arm, please?" she could feel her cheeks growing warm as he did as she asked and tried to force down her excitement at Lupin's touch.
She pointed her wand at Lupin's hand and said, "Alohomora!"
Nothing happened.
"Nice thought," said Lupin, letting go of her. "What about... here - grab me."
Mairead wrapped her fingers around his left forearm this time. Lupin touched the tip of his wand lightly to the back of Mairead's hand and said, "Liberare!"
This time, Mairead felt her hand open involuntarily, as though someone had pried her fingers off Lupin's arm one by one.
"Hey!" she cried victoriously. Lupin smiled happily at her.
"Here, you try it," he said. He reached for her, then stopped right before grabbing her. "Is it all right if I touch you?" he asked politely.
Mairead nodded, feeling embarrassed.
Professor Lupin held onto her, and Mairead noted that his fingers were so long they could wrap all the way around her forearm.
"Liberare!" she said, and smiled with relief when he relinquished his grip.
"Excellent!" Lupin said. "I think we should try it with bonds, too." He looked around thoughtfully, then strode over to a desk.
"Incarcerous," he muttered, and ropes shot out of the end of his wand and tied one leg of the desk to a leg of its accompanying chair. "Here," he gestured for Mairead to come over and try.
"Liberare!" she said, feeling confident, but this time, nothing happened. "Maybe you should try," she said doubtfully.
Lupin flicked his wand at the ropes, but they stayed tightly bound.
"All right, so it will work if an assailant is grabbing you, but we need to find something else to use on bonds," Lupin said.
Professor Lupin summoned a couple of textbooks from his office and they spent some time combing through the books looking for a solution. They each tried a few spells with no success until Mairead experimentally said, "Emancipare!"
The ropes untied themselves and fell to the floor.
"Nice one!" said Lupin appreciatively. Mairead smiled shyly.
Lupin checked his watch. "We only have a few minutes left, but I think we should practice dueling some more," he said. "Especially since we won't meet next week because of the Easter holidays."
Mairead tried her best to focus on the duel, but her mind kept straying back to the feeling of Lupin's fingers wrapped around her arm, and the way she had been able to feel his muscles move beneath his clothing when she had held him. Most of all, she hated the fact that she wouldn't see him for an entire week, as she would be going back to St. Hedwig's for the holidays.
When she landed on the ground with a crash for the fourth time, Professor Lupin hummed thoughtfully.
"Your stance needs work," he said.
Mairead pushed herself to her feet. "What should I change?"
"Pull your shoulders back."
She did as he said, but he frowned. "No, don't arch your spine," he said. "Roll them back and stand straight."
Mairead smiled abashedly. "I thought I was standing straight."
Professor Lupin gave a little sigh. "Er... try..." he made a baffling gesture with his hands. Finally, looking slightly uncertain, he said, "Would it be all right if I came over and showed you?"
Mairead wasn't sure what he meant, but she would let him do whatever he pleased, so she nodded.
Lupin walked over. Mairead was surprised to see he looked slightly hesitant. "Er... would it be all right if I touched you?" he asked. Mairead blinked. "You can say 'no,'" he added quickly.
"Erm, no, that's fine," she said quietly.
He went and stood behind her. "All right if I put my hands on your shoulders?" his voice came from behind her.
Trying not to shiver visibly, Mairead nodded.
She felt his hands rest lightly where her upper arms met her shoulders.
"Follow my hands," he said.
She felt his fingers tighten slightly around her as his hands rolled her shoulders forward, upward, and back. She found that she naturally stood straighter, but she overbalanced and stumbled backwards into Lupin's chest.
"It's all right, I've got you," his voice said calmly in her ear as he steadied her. "But let's get your feet more grounded. Raise your toes for me."
Confused but obedient, Mairead rose up onto her tiptoes. She heard Professor Lupin chuckle softly behind her and could feel his warm breath tickle her hair.
"No, no, go back down," he said. "Just the opposite: keep your feet flat on the ground, and raise just your toes."
It took Mairead a moment to figure out the coordination for this, but finally she lifted her toes up as high as the tops of her shoes would allow.
"Do you feel how your weight naturally distributed itself between your heels and the balls of your feet?" Lupin asked. She nodded. "Good. You can lower your toes back down now, but don't shift your weight. Naturally you'll shift onto the balls of your feet while you're attacking and your heels while you're defending yourself, but always try to come back to this as your center. It'll help prevent you from losing your balance."
"'Kay," she murmured.
"Now, tighten up your stomach."
Mairead took a deep breath as she pulled her stomach in.
"No, don't suck your stomach in," he said. "You want to be able to breathe... here." He took his left hand off her shoulder and wrapped it around to her front, where it hovered a few inches away from her. "All right if I touch your stomach?" he asked.
Mairead swallowed thickly, but nodded. She prayed fervently that he wouldn't be able to feel her heart racing.
Professor Lupin splayed his fingers across her lower abdomen. "Tighten the muscles under my hand," he said quietly. "Good," he said when she did as he said. He slid his hand higher. "Now these muscles."
Mairead tried to focus on the muscle groups and not the fact that if Lupin's thumb slid much higher he would be touching her breasts.
"Good," he murmured. "Now, raise your wand arm."
Mairead extended her right hand out from her side.
"Don't relax these muscles," he reminded her, pressing in slightly on her abdomen. "Take a moment to check in on your posture." She quickly tensed her stomach again and tightened the muscles in her back to pull her shoulders back to where he wanted them.
"Good," he said again. "Now, hold your arm out strong." He slid his right hand down her arm and curled his fingers around the hand that was clutching her wand. "Do you feel how much more power there is in your stance now?"
Mairead nodded, though it was a complete lie. She felt like custard held together by skin with his hands on her like this.
"Perfect, now one last thing - and this is the most important thing to remember: turn your body."
Mairead twisted forward and turned her head back to gaze at him over her shoulder. She saw him smile.
"Wrong way," he said quietly. The hand that was on her stomach pulled her so that her back was flush against his front. "You want to maintain as low a profile as you can while dueling. You want to give your opponent as little surface area to hit as possible, so you should be facing them sideways and turning your head to look down your wand arm at your opponent. It'll help you move if you turn your right foot ninety degrees to the right, so that it is parallel to your wand arm."
She did as he said.
"Now, take a moment," he said. "Scan through all of the things we worked on."
Mairead tightened her shoulders and her stomach, stood up straight, distributed her weight, and tensed the muscles all the way down her arm. Lupin let go of her and took a couple of steps away. She watched him peripherally as he walked around her in a circle, looking her up and down. Finally, he stopped right in front of her wand.
"Perfect," he said, smiling proudly. "That's enough for tonight. If you get the chance, practice your stance over the holidays."
Mairead lowered her wand and nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Professor Lupin didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong.
"I'll see you tomorrow in class. Well done tonight."
She forced a smile onto her face. "Thank you, Professor Lupin."
...
Fifteen minutes later, Mairead was climbing the stairs to the Ravenclaw Quidditch stands. She had headed straight there after her lesson had let out. She saw that the Gyffindor team was still practicing, though she could hear from their disgruntled voices that they were getting tired.
Her head was filled with a mindless buzzing. She burned everywhere Lupin had put his hands. She could still feel the ghost of him pressed up against her back. The skin on the back of her neck prickled when she remembered the way his warm, soft voice had sounded when he spoke directly in her ear. Her center was pulsing and throbbing with need and her hands clenched and unclenched in frustration that she couldn't do anything about it. She had to get him out of her head, and there was only one way she could think to do that.
Her panting for breath roused Roger's attention as she summited the staircase. He looked around from where he was sitting.
"You came back," he said, looking surprised, but pleased.
Mairead nodded and strode over to stand in front of him. Roger raised his eyebrows at the determined expression on her face.
"What's up?" he asked.
Mairead dropped to her knees in front of him and reached for his belt buckle.
"I'm ready to taste you."
...
The next day at lunch, Mairead stood by the Ravenclaw table and looked around, shifting her weight from one foot to the other uncertainly. Roger was supposed to meet her here. He had told her he wanted to have lunch with her. He would be heading home a day early for the Easter holidays, so this was the last day they would see each other for a week.
"Mairead? What are you doing just standing there?"
Mairead looked around and saw Edgar sitting next to Ansel.
She smiled widely at them. She and her friends had been so busy with midterms that they hadn't been able to spend much time together.
"I'm supposed to meet Roger for lunch," she explained.
Ansel and Edgar exchanged a look, then Ansel reached over and pulled out the chair next to him.
"Why don't you sit with us while you wait?" he suggested.
Mairead gratefully dropped into the chair next to him. "How've you been?" she asked, placing a hand on Ansel's shoulder. "We need to catch up! Your interview is over the hols, right?"
Ansel nodded, but he looked tense. "Edgar and I have been meaning to have a little chat with you," he said.
Mairead frowned. "What's wrong?" she asked, instantly alert. "Is everything okay?"
The two Ravenclaws shared another look, then Edgar said, "We wanted to talk to you about Roger."
"What about him?" she asked.
Ansel asked, "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" at the same moment that Edgar said, "We don't like him."
Mairead laughed nervously. "Guys, what is this?" she joked. "Some kind of love intervention?"
"We're serious, May," said Edgar grimly. "I - we - are both worried about you. And so is Sophie, by the way."
Mairead scoffed. "Sophie?" she said doubtfully. "Sophie's the one who's always telling me I need to lighten up and find myself a boyfriend! And now I've gone and done just that and she's worried? What the hell?"
"We're not trying to gang up on you," Ansel said. "We just know Roger and we love you, so we had to say something."
"We don't want to see you get your heart broken," said Edgar earnestly.
"What are you talking about?" Mairead demanded. "You both know I've fancied Roger for ages and now we're together. Heartbreak averted."
"May, Roger doesn't fancy you the way you fancy him," Edgar said, lowering his voice and speaking quickly. His eyes darted past Mairead's shoulder. She turned and could see Roger had just entered the Great Hall and was walking towards them.
"Oh, he's told you that, has he?" Mairead asked acidly.
"No, the trail of girls he's slept with and immediately dumped told us that," said Ansel evenly.
"This isn't like that!" Mairead said hotly. "This is different."
Ansel looked at her solemnly. "You're being naïve and I think you know that," he said, not unkindly.
"I can't believe you," Mairead said, feeling tears prick her eyes. "When you told me about that interview, wasn't I happy for you? Didn't I love and support you? I would never shoot you down like this." She turned to Edgar. "I've always been on your side," she said accusatorily. "When you and Jonathan started going out, no one was more supportive of you than me. Even after he jerked you around for months I still respected your choice to go out with him anyway. Why can't you be happy for me?"
"May -" Edgar pleaded. "We love you. We don't want to see you get hurt."
"Yeah?" Mairead shot back viciously. "And just what do you think you're doing right now?"
She stood up and looked over at Roger, who was only a few steps away at this point.
"Let's eat at the Hufflepuff table," she said, taking his hand and pulling him away. She didn't spare a backwards glance for her two friends.
It was easy enough to put Ansel and Edgar's warning out of her mind as she and Roger ate lunch. Roger was being sweet and attentive, stroking her cheek and the backs of her hands, playfully stealing bits of food off her plate, and leaning over and kissing her frequently. A voice in the back of her mind told her it was because of what she had done for him the previous night, but she ignored it and basked in the glow of his attention.
After lunch, Roger walked her to Defense Against the Dark Arts and proceeded to push her against the wall outside Lupin's classroom and kiss her soundly while they waited for the previous class to let out.
"You're going to be late for your own class," Mairead said in Roger's ear as he suckled her neck.
"I don't care; I want to be with you," Roger replied, pulling her shirt untucked and stroking the skin of her stomach.
Mairead whimpered quietly and allowed herself to get lost in the kiss.
"That can't be sanitary."
Mairead broke the kiss and looked around. She saw Amanda standing there, hand on hip and looking slightly revolted.
Roger arched an eyebrow. "We're not doing it 'cause it's sanitary, kid," he said with a suggestive smile.
"Cold and flu season isn't over yet, you know," Amanda said bossily. "If you give her something and then she spreads it around to all of us over Easter, I'm coming for you."
Roger scoffed. "Oh, no, how will I sleep at night?" he said sarcastically.
Amanda rolled her eyes and walked off.
Mairead frowned slightly as Roger. "Be nice," she whispered.
"What? She was being a prat!" said Roger defensively.
"Yeah, well, she's twelve. That's her primary function," said Mairead calmly. She pried herself away from where Roger had her pinned to the wall and started into the classroom.
Roger caught her hand and pulled her back to him. "I'll have you know I was delightful at twelve," he said teasingly.
"Well, that's just grand for you, so," she teased back.
Roger smiled crookedly at her. "I'm gonna miss those blue eyes over the holidays," he said, dropping a kiss onto her lips.
Mairead laughed, uncertain whether he was making a joke she didn't understand. "...Thanks," she finally went with. "I'll miss you, too."
Roger gave her a lingering kiss and released her, walking off down the corridor towards his own class.
Mairead turned around and saw that Professor Lupin had been watching their interaction with a small frown on his face. She ducked her head to avoid his eyes and took her seat.
She gnawed nervously on her lips and tried to subtly tuck her shirt back into her skirt while she waited for class to start. Some sick, twisted part of her had wanted Lupin to see how happy she was with Roger, as if he would care, as if that would somehow release her from her feelings for her teacher. But another part of her felt as though she was being disloyal to him, parading her relationship in front of him. Stifling a sigh, she massaged her eyes and tried to clear her head.
You are so incredibly fucked up, the annoying voice in her head told her.
Yeah, what else is new? she shot back at it.
The class turned out to be a practical midterm exam on everything they had covered so far, and so Mairead hung back and watched her classmates as they took turns performing Shield Charms, Imperturbable Charms, and Barrier Charms. She obviously wasn't permitted to assist while exams were going on, so she bit her fingernails down to the quick and watched enviously as her classmates performed flawlessly, all blossoming under the excellent tutelage of Professor Lupin.
At least she could be proud of her midterm essay, which she had spent ages on. She turned it in with a smile at the end of class and opened her mouth to bid Professor Lupin a good holiday, but he held up a hand and asked her to stay behind.
"What's up?" she asked when all of the students had left.
Professor Lupin mystified her by holding up a hand again, walking over to the door, and checking that the corridor outside was empty before returning to his desk.
Lupin frowned. "I don't know how to say this," he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking at the ground. "Or even if I should be saying anything," he added, mostly, it seemed, to himself. "But..." he hesitated for a long moment before he appeared to screw up his courage and look at her again. "Don't go out with Roger Davies, Mairead."
Mairead's eyebrows shot up. "What was that?" she asked in confusion.
Lupin looked highly uncomfortable, but nevertheless he repeated, "Please don't go out with Roger."
"Wha - Why?" she spluttered.
Professor Lupin sighed and rubbed a hand across his forehead. Mairead had never seen him look so awkward before. "I just don't think it's a good idea," he said softly.
Mairead tried to form a response, but all that came out was a bewildered squeak.
Professor Lupin shot another anxious glance out his door before taking a step closer to her. "He won't be nice to you, Mairead," he said, lowering his voice. "Please just trust me on this. I've known boys like Roger Davies. He'll hurt you, and I don't want to see that happen."
Mairead continued to mouth wordlessly at Lupin, too flabbergasted to speak.
"He won't treat you right," Lupin continued seriously. "He's already not treating you right. Please, Mairead."
Finally, Mairead found words. "Where the hell is this coming from?"
"It's coming from experience, and from a place of concern for you," Lupin answered. "Obviously you can make your own choices. You're an adult. I just don't want to see you get hurt."
"Why does everybody hate Roger all of a sudden?" Mairead demanded furiously. "First Cedric, then Ansel and Edgar and apparently Sophie, and now you. What's your problem with Roger?"
"You're going to have to ask your friends what their issues with Roger are," Professor Lupin said fairly. "But from my perspective, I've seen how he treats the girls he goes out with. And I've seen the aftermath once he's done with them. I've already heard about three other girls this year alone who've broken down crying in faculty offices because of Roger. I don't want you to be treated that way. I want you to be with someone who treats you the way you deserve to be treated."
"He treats me fine," Mairead stubbornly insisted.
"You shouldn't be with someone who treats you 'fine'!" Lupin burst out, startling Mairead with his vehemence. "You should be with someone who treats you like you're the beginning of the world! You should be with someone who treats you like the sun rises and sets with your smile. You should be with someone who thinks you are the single, loveliest creature they have ever met in their entire lives... At the very least," he added obstinately, "you should be with someone who's noticed that your eyes are green, not blue."
Mairead stood stunned at Professor Lupin's outburst. He had never shown this much fervor before, and for one precious, shining moment, Mairead allowed herself to wonder if this meant he wanted her for himself. This is the part in the movie when they kiss, she thought to herself. This is when George Bailey kisses Mary, when Heathcliff embraces Cathy on the mountaintop, when Rhett picks Scarlet up in his arms and carries her up the staircase to his bedroom.
When Lupin looked over and met her gaze, however, she saw no desire there, no passion. Just honest, earnest concern for the wellbeing of a well-liked student.
The loss of hope felt like a fist crushing her heart into dust and she felt her face form into an angry frown.
"There's nobody like that," she said shortly.
"Yes, there is, Mairead," he softly insisted.
Mairead felt a lump forming in her throat and heard her voice tremble when she said, "Not for me, there isn't. Those guys? They don't want me. They don't like me. But Roger does."
"He doesn't want you, Mairead," said Lupin pleadingly. "He doesn't want you."
"Nobody wants me."
"... That can't be true." Sympathy crossed Professor Lupin's face, which only served to incense Mairead more when he said, "A lot of people like you, Mairead."
A tremor went through her chin and she fought back tears as she said, "You know lots of things, Professor Lupin, but you don't know what you're talking about when it comes to this."
Professor Lupin reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulder. "I know you," he said simply.
Normally she would have been thrilled at the touch, but all she could feel at the moment was pain, and she angrily shrugged his hand off as she went on. "You've only known me this year!" she insisted. "You don't know what things were like for me when I first got here. People wouldn't even talk to me. They wouldn't sit on the same side of the table as me at meals. You haven't the first clue how hard I've worked to earn a good reputation. Do you have any idea how long it took? How much time and effort I put into having my presence be tolerated at this school? And even then, that's just here, at Hogwarts. Maybe people tolerate me here, but their parents won't. Their brothers and sisters won't. Their friends who don't go to this school won't. To you, sure, I'm just a loser Hufflepuff girl. But to them? I'm a Squib! And a Death Eater to boot! I'm the biggest threat imaginable to them. And a Squib Death Eater being permitted to get a magical education? I'm their worst nightmare. And you have no idea what it is like to be so many people's worst nightmare. You have no idea what it is like to be held to account for something you have zero control over. You have no idea what it is like to try to exist in a society that hates you. A society that thinks you're repulsive, that you're subhuman. You have no idea how lonely that is."
Her voice broke as she felt the first of the tears brimming in her eyes overflow down her cheeks. She swiped a hand impatiently across her face and when she opened her eyes again she finally noticed Professor Lupin's stricken expression. The blood had completely drained from his face and he looked as though she had hit him.
She took a few ragged breaths before saying more calmly, "I'm never going to have the kind of love you described. Never. I know that; I've made my peace with it. But Roger wants me, and he is better than anything I ever thought I could hope for. Is it so wrong to be content with that? To be happy with what I have while I can still have it?"
Lupin seemed to be dazed by her outburst. He was staring at her as though he had never really seen her before. Finally, he said, "No." His voice came out hoarse and he cleared his throat before repeating, "No, it's not wrong."
Mairead swallowed painfully past the lump in her throat. Professor Lupin still looked shocked by what she had said, and she began to feel guilty for exploding at him. "Look," she said softly. "I think I need a holiday. The pressure is just getting to me a bit."
Lupin nodded. "A change of scenery will be good," he said faintly.
She nodded, feeling more miserable by the second. "I'll, erm... I'll see you after break," she mumbled.
"Have a nice holiday," he said.
Mairead nodded once more before ducking her head and walking out of the classroom.
...
The room was spinning. The floor felt as though it were moving under his feet. A wave of nausea hit him and for a moment as Remus lurched forward and clutched his desk he feared he might be sick.
He lowered himself on shaky legs into his desk chair and clawed at his throat to loosen his necktie. The same thought repeated over and over in his mind.
I almost told her, I almost told her, dear God I almost told her.
Remus had only ever voluntarily told one person about his condition, and it had not gone over well at all. After that he had vowed never to tell anyone again.
He sat back and took a few shallow, rapid breaths.
And yet...
And yet all that girl had to do was look at him the way she did and he could feel all the walls he had ever built shake at their very foundations. All it took was the slightest tremor in her voice and he wanted to tug her into his arms and promise her she wasn't alone anymore and that he would fight off all of her demons for her.
He passed a hand over his face and could feel a sheen of cold sweat on his skin. What was it about this girl?
He told himself reassuringly that she was leaving the next evening and would be gone for an entire week. As much as he enjoyed and even looked forward to Mairead's company, he knew now with certainty that he needed distance from this terrifying girl he wanted to share all his secrets with.
Because after all, while it had killed him to hear of her pain and loneliness, so similar to his own, she had gotten one thing absolutely right.
She was the biggest threat imaginable to him.
...
Author's Note: Ooh, some good old Mairead angst to throw in with the Remus angst from last chapter. And how about the spice? And hmmm, what do you think Snape was up to? ;-) I'd love to hear what you thought!
Songs for this Chapter: The song playing in Remus's office when Mairead walked in was "Nowhere Man," by The Beatles (and is also where the title for this chapter comes from). The soundtrack for this chapter is "Untouchable (Taylor's Version)," by Taylor Swift (Mairead). What? You didn't honestly think we could have a soundtrack to a romance fic without a few TSwift songs thrown in, did you?