Author's Note: Special thank you to GraceMonroe for the lovely review! It made me so happy! Did you know? You - yes, you! - can ALSO make me happy by reviewing. (wink wink, nudge nudge)

So, a couple of things before we get started. First off, the timing of this chapter is... slightly awkward. I did not actually intentionally time things this way, but this chapter does get... playfully anti-Christian, shall we say? So if that will offend you, you may wish to refrain from reading this until after Easter.

Secondly, I wanted to be sure to include a TRIGGER WARNING that this chapter contains a couple of spicy scenes with extremely dubious consent.

That's all, I think! Enjoy! (And review, please. But mostly ENJOY!)

...

Chapter Thirteen: What a Wonderful World It Would Be

"Jesus Christ, that was a long fucking sermon!"

Sophie, Edgar, Ansel, and Mairead had just finished escorting the younger children from church back to St. Hedwig's and had now been released from duty. As soon as they were outside, Sophie let her feelings about the Easter service be known.

"He is risen - Hallelujah! There!" Sophie ranted. "I accomplished in four words what it took them four goddamn hours to do."

"It wasn't four hours long," said Edgar fairly. "It was only three and a half."

One corner of Ansel's mouth turned up. He looked over at Edgar. "Isn't there some sort of... I dunno..." he searched for the right word.

"Super Hell?" Mairead supplied.

"Yeah," Ansel agreed. "Super Hell for people who take the Lord's name in vain during a religious holiday?"

Edgar shrugged. "Only in Rome," he said blandly. Mairead giggled.

"Didn't they say they were going to start extraditing people, though?" Mairead added.

"Yeah," Edgar mused in mock thoughtfulness. "I wonder whatever became of that..."

The four friends shared a laugh, giddy at being released into the fresh air, daylight, and beautifully warm day. Mairead smiled and tilted her head back as she walked, enjoying the sunshine on her face. She listened contentedly as Ansel and Sophie began bickering about one thing or another.

"Hey, May?" Edgar asked in a low voice beside her.

"Yeah?"

Edgar huffed out a breath. "I just - I've been meaning to... I wanted to apologize for the other day."

Mairead slowed and she and Edgar dropped slightly behind Sophie and Ansel.

"You were absolutely right," Edgar went on softly. "You were really supportive of me with the whole thing with Jonathan. I always knew you'd be on my side, whether I got with him or not, and I didn't even think about how much that meant to me - that you respected my right to make my own choices."

Mairead wrapped both of her arms around one of Edgar's and pulled herself to his side. "Oh, Edgar, I'm sorry, too," she said emotionally. "I shouldn't have gotten so defensive. You were just trying to look out for me. I hate that we've been in a fight."

"Me, too," said Edgar shakily. "May, I love you like a sister. I just don't want to see anything happen to you. But if something were to come between us -" he broke off and blinked rapidly.

Mairead sniffled loudly and pressed the back of one hand to her nose. "I love you, too," she said thickly. "That'll never happen. We won't let it."

The two stopped and embraced in a crushing hug. When they broke apart, they both wiped their eyes and shared a watery smile.

"You should apologize too, you know," Edgar remarked to Ansel when he and Mairead had caught up to the other two.

"No thanks," said Ansel briskly. "I stand by what I said. Roger Davies is a daft prick and May's better off without him."

"Yes, but, don't you think it's important to mend bridges and make a fresh start?" Edgar argued reasonably.

"Ugh, Edgar gets so pious this time of year," Sophie remarked to Mairead with an eye roll. "Here's my take: do what you want, but if Davies hurts you, I'm slicing off his bollocks and force-feeding them to him."

Ansel nodded thoughtfully. "I'll hold him down," he offered.

Mairead snorted. "Well, as long as the two of you have got a plan," she said.

...

By the last day of the Easter holidays, Remus had put together a comprehensive plan for distancing himself from Mairead.

He would no longer stop to chat with her in the corridors or the Great Hall, although he would of course smile and greet her pleasantly when they passed one another. He would also no longer visit the library when she was working. Nor would he stop her after class to talk to her. There would be no more long conversations over tea in his office following their lessons. He would keep chit-chat to a minimum, and he would no longer allow himself to get sidetracked in their meetings. Under no circumstances was he to share personal anecdotes anymore, particularly those that involved his past.

He felt this was a solid plan to maintain his defenses and keep her at arms' length while still not depriving her of the lessons she needed to prepare for her Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. He was satisfied with how thorough the plan was. It was foolproof, really.

Which was why it was so baffling to him that, when Professor Flitwick tapped on Remus's office door on the last day of the holidays and casually mentioned that Mairead - whom he had just run into at her job - was currently holding an Outstanding grade in Charms and that he suspected it was thanks to their evening lessons, Remus immediately dropped everything he was doing and headed straight for the library.

Mairead appeared to be writing a letter when he walked through the doors to the library. Remus suddenly became aware of a knot of tension in his chest and his stride faltered on his way up to the desk. It hadn't consciously occurred to him until now that she might still be upset with him for having intruded on her personal life the last time they had spoken. But when she looked up and spotted him, she gave him a wide, beaming smile and her dark green eyes sparkled happily at the sight of him.

"Hello, Professor!" she said jovially.

Remus felt the knot in his chest release and he smiled broadly back at her. "Hello, Mairead," he replied. "How were your holidays?"

Mairead put her quill down. "They were fine," she said, then added with a slight wrinkle to her nose, "Pretty Jesus-y. But fine."

Remus chuckled. "I take it you're not particularly Jesus-y yourself, then?" he guessed.

"No, I gave Christianity up for Lent a few years back," she said solemnly.

Remus let out a surprised laugh.

"How were yours?" she asked.

"They were fine, thanks," he replied, putting his hands into his pockets. "Pretty quiet."

"I imagine you enjoyed the break from me," she said quietly. Remus looked closely at her and saw that her mood had shifted. She was now looking self-conscious and unhappy. It occurred to him then that she blamed herself for their argument, not him.

"Not at all," he said seriously. "What makes you say that?"

Mairead shifted uneasily in her chair, and she wouldn't meet his gaze. "Just..." she said softly. She was quiet for a long moment, and Remus waited patiently. Finally, addressing the desk rather than him, she said, "I'm sorry. About... about the last time we talked."

"I'm sorry, too," Remus said softly.

Mairead peeked up at him through her eyelashes and seemed to see that he was being genuine.

"Are you upset with me?" she asked timidly.

Remus sighed fondly. "Mairead, I have never once been upset with you. Not ever."

She took a moment to process this. Then, with the tiniest of rueful smiles, she said, "Not even when I blew up at you?"

Remus smiled mischievously and twitched an eyebrow upwards. "Which time?" he asked wryly.

Mairead's cheeks flushed pink, and she still would not meet his eye, but he could see that she was smiling.

"You Irish with your tempers," he teased her gently.

Mairead bit her bottom lip, still smiling. "You English with your stiff upper lips," she mumbled.

"I'm not English; I'm Welsh," Remus reminded her.

"Whatever," she drawled, finally looking up at him.

Remus smiled, relieved beyond measure that they had made amends.

"Are we still on for tomorrow at eight?" Mairead asked. Remus noted she still looked a touch apprehensive that he was upset with her.

"Absolutely," he said briskly. "Meet me in my office and we'll head to the classroom to duel. And bring that Irish temper of yours."

...

Mairead couldn't stop smiling after Professor Lupin left. Their heated exchange in his classroom had been on her mind nearly constantly over the holidays. It had been in the back of her mind every time she had brought up Roger's name. Lupin's words - he won't be nice to you - had echoed in her mind, particularly as the week had gone by and Roger hadn't responded to any of the notes she had sent him - at her own expense, as Sister Mary Agnes would not permit Mairead to use the St. Hedwig's owl to send him letters. He had also missed their Floo date that they had set at midweek, with no explanation as to why.

She had assured herself that Roger was just preoccupied, but it had been harder to shake her concern that Professor Lupin was disappointed in her, or that he had been repulsed by her admission that she was an unwanted in wizarding society. Amos Diggory's letter from months ago had been on her mind as well, particularly given the fact that things had been tense between herself and Cedric since she had started seeing Roger.

But now that she saw that Lupin was not upset with her and was committed to continuing their lessons, she felt as though an immense weight had been lifted. As she wandered around the stacks later that afternoon, shelving books and pulling off others that had been requested by students and faculty, she wished that Professor Lupin had stayed longer. She wished he could have stayed the whole afternoon.

"Excuse me, Mairead?" she heard a voice say behind her.

She turned and saw Hermione. The Gryffindor was looking frankly exhausted, as though she hadn't had a break at all. Mairead felt a stab of sympathy for the younger girl.

"Hey, Hermione," she greeted her with a smile.

"You have a visitor at the front desk," Hermione said, then turned and walked back to her study spot.

Mairead couldn't stop a huge smile from spreading across her face. Lupin must have come back for something. He had mentioned a book he wanted to show her. Maybe he had brought it to her.

She walked out from the stacks and had already formed, "Back already?" on her lips when she saw not Lupin, but Roger leaning against the desk and scanning the latest issue of Which Broomstick?

Her smile slipped only a little, but she managed to fix it back in place by the time he looked up.

"Hey, babe," he said with a sexy smile.

"Hey, Roger," she responded.

Roger looked around at the students studying nearby, then said, "I needed some help finding a book. D'you think you could...?"

"Oh!" she said, not realizing he had come here for schoolwork. "Yeah, absolutely."

She put down her armload of books and followed Roger into the back of the library. He led the way confidently. So confidently, in fact, that Mairead wondered why he needed help. He got to the Invisibility section of the library and strode assuredly into the stacks, where he disappeared from sight. Mairead followed him. Once she was also in the stacks Roger blinked back into view.

She furrowed her brow. "What do you need from here?" she asked curiously.

Roger smirked. "You."

He stepped forward and caught her lips in a kiss. Mairead opened her mouth in surprise and felt Roger's tongue flick inside. She whimpered and held onto his shoulders for support.

Roger kissed his way down her throat to where her neck met her shoulder. He pushed her jumper out of the way and left wet kisses across her shoulder, pausing to suckle and nibble on her skin in places.

Mairead's breath was coming in ragged gasps, and she turned her head to kiss Roger's hair and ear.

"Did you get my notes over break?" she murmured into his hair.

Roger paused briefly. "Nah, I'm sorry, babe," he said quietly. "My mum had to take a last-minute trip to Japan and brought me with her. By the time I got back and saw your letters I was practically on my way back here. There wasn't really a point to responding."

"Oh, okay," she said, dropping more kisses into his hair. "Japan! That's exciting."

"Mmm," was all he said, sliding a hand up to squeeze her breast.

"I'd love to hear all about it," whispered Mairead.

Roger's other hand found hers and she intertwined their fingers, but that was not apparently what he had been seeking. He guided her hand downward and pressed it against his belt.

"Take it out," he breathed in her ear.

"Roger!" she hissed. "I can't do that - I'm at work!"

Roger pushed her hand out of the way and she heard him hastily unbuckle his belt and open his fly. His hands came back to hers and he tugged them inside his trousers. She struggled briefly with him, terrified of drawing attention to what they were doing, but he was far stronger than she and guided her right hand inside his boxers to brush against his hard length.

"Roger, what if someone hears us?" she whispered urgently.

"Don't worry, I won't make a sound," he assured her. "Just for a minute. Please, Mairead. God, I've missed you so much. I just need you to touch me."

Mairead bit her lip uncertainly. Roger cocked an eyebrow at her. "If you don't I'll make a huge commotion," he said in what Mairead hoped was a jest. He was smiling...

Finally, Mairead decided that it would probably be best just to do what he asked. She wrapped her fingers around his warm, silky erection and pumped her hand down to his base and back up again.

Roger tilted his hand back and let out a whispered moan.

She stroked him up and down a few times, then pushed his foreskin down his shaft and swirled one of her fingers around the very tip of his penis. Roger hissed out a breath.

"Fuck!" he breathed.

He put his hands on her hips and pushed her up against a bookshelf. Mairead continued to work her hand but faltered when she felt him pull her skirt up and fumble for her knickers. She twisted her hips out of his grasp and shook her head.

Roger rested his forehead against hers. "Let me put it in you," he whispered.

"What? No!" she breathed.

"C'mon, Mairead," he pleaded. He pulled her hips square with his and reached for her knickers again.

Mairead released his cock, bent her knees, and ducked down, squirming out of his reach again.

"Roger, stop it," she whispered firmly.

"Don't be a prude," Roger ordered, his voice rising above a whisper. "We've been going out for ages now."

Mairead raised an eyebrow. "We've been going out for a month," she countered.

Roger rolled his eyes and huffed out a breath angrily. "Is this because I didn't write back to your stupid letters?" he accused her.

Mairead narrowed her eyes. "No, it's because I'm at work!" she hissed at him. She shoved him away from her and darted out of the Invisibility Section and back up towards the front of the library before he could catch her.

She hurried back to the front desk. She was trying to figure out what she would do if Roger came up and made a scene when she turned and saw him emerge from the stacks, clothes and hair put to rights. He had a dark scowl on his face that made Mairead cow with intimidation.

She opened her mouth to say something conciliatory, but he walked straight out of the library without so much as a glance at her.

...

That evening, Mairead had resolved to put Roger out of her mind by relishing an extreme rarity: she had the Hufflepuff Common Room to herself. She had spread her textbooks across the entire table in front of the fireplace and was sprawled in the softest, comfiest chair right in front of the fire. She had taken her socks off and was luxuriating in the toasty feeling of warming her toes by the fire when she heard someone coming up the passageway.

She twisted her mouth and sighed, disappointed that her solitude was coming to an end. She craned her neck to peer over the back of the chair and saw Cedric emerge from the passageway into the Common Room.

"Hey!" she called to him. "D'you want to come sit?"

Cedric hesitated for a moment, then joined her by the fire.

"How was your holiday?" Mairead asked him. Cedric didn't answer for a long moment. He stared into the fireplace, a serious expression on his face.

Finally, without looking at her, he quietly asked, "Is it true my parents uninvited you from Christmas?"

Mairead felt a horrible, sinking feeling in her stomach. "Where did you hear that?" she asked faintly.

He finally looked away from the fire and over at her. "So it is true," he said, more as a statement than a question. When Mairead didn't respond, he frowned at her. "How could you lie to me about this?" he asked.

"I didn't lie," she said defensively.

"Oh, really?" he challenged her. "Then why did I hear about it from my house elf and not from you?"

"I -" Mairead struggled, but she couldn't find the words.

"He told me that he'd mailed a letter my Dad wrote asking you to come up with some excuse not to come to Christmas," Cedric went on, his voice low and angry. "Is that why you wouldn't let me see you in the Hospital Wing?" he demanded. "Were you not as injured as you let on and you didn't want me to see?"

"No!" said Mairead indignantly. "I didn't lie to you, Cedric. I really was in the Hospital Wing and I didn't get out until Christmas break had already started."

"Why didn't you just join us after you got out, then?" he challenged.

Mairead hesitated. She felt Cedric's accusation of lying was too strong, but she wasn't about to start lying now.

"I didn't want to upset you," she finally said pleadingly. "You've had a lot on your mind this year. I didn't want to burden you."

Cedric looked at her, unmoved by her plea. "Where's the letter now?" he asked. "Do you still have it?"

"I - yes."

"I want to read it," he said.

"Cedric, no, please don't!" cried Mairead.

"Bring it to me," he insisted. "Bring it now."

"Cedric, please - I don't want you to -"

"Now, Mairead!" he yelled.

Mairead inhaled sharply. She couldn't remember Cedric having ever raised his voice to her before. She rose unsteadily and went to her room to retrieve the letter.

She watched as Cedric read the letter. She could feel herself trembling with anxiety as his face grew darker and his scowl deeper. When he finally finished reading and looked up at her, he looked murderously angry and she actually shrank back from him. She expected him to yell again, but his voice came out dangerously soft.

"How could you not tell me about this?" he asked. "He wrote this to you in November. You've been keeping this from me for five months. How could you?"

"I'm sorry, Cedric," she said, her voice quivering. "He asked me not to say anything - it was right there in the letter."

"Oh, I see," he said sarcastically. "You completely throw over any sense of loyalty, any sense of honesty that you might owe to your best friend in favour of doing what someone who could write this kind of filth tells you to do?"

"Cedric, that's your father you're talking about," Mairead reminded him.

"That's my father you're covering up for!" he snarled.

"You love your father, Cedric!" Mairead cried, fighting back tears. "You love both your parents! How could you expect me to come between you by showing this to you? What kind of friend would that make me?"

"What kind of friend does it make you that you HID THIS FROM ME?!" Cedric exploded. "WHAT KIND OF FRIEND DO YOU THINK I AM THAT YOU CAN'T TRUST ME WITH THIS?! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU PLAYING AT?!"

"I did my best!" said Mairead, openly crying now. "I didn't want to hurt you!"

"Well, I've got to be honest with you, Mairead: I'm feeling pretty fucking hurt right now," Cedric rejoined. "I can't trust my Dad. I can't trust my Mum. If you had shown this to me at least I would've known I could trust you. But I guess not."

He turned away coldly. Mairead sank back into a chair and buried her face in her hands. For several long minutes the only sounds were Mairead's muffled sobs.

Cedric waited, his face expressionless, until Mairead got her tears under control. Then he asked, "Is this why you're dating Davies? Because my Dad has you convinced you can't do any better?"

"Don't bring Roger into this!" Mairead snapped her head up to glare at him. "Leave him out of this!"

"I just don't get it," Cedric said slowly. "Why else would you date someone you can do so much better than?"

"Will you just fucking leave off about Roger?!" growled Mairead. "He hasn't done anything to you! And besides - you seem to be under the impression that the Giant Squid is too good for me at the moment, so I don't really see where you get off criti-"

"Oh, come off it, Mairead!" Cedric said impatiently. "You know perfectly well there's no truth to any of what my Dad put in that letter. It's bullshit. Start to finish. Utter bullshit."

"If you think I'm so great then why are you so pissed with me?" she demanded, jumping to her feet and beginning to pace.

"Because I don't know why you bought into this!" Cedric cried, brandishing the letter, which was crumpled in his fist. "You're smart, Mairead, you should know what bullshit this is! And yet you're hanging all over Roger Davies like you're just some two Sickle -"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence."

Cedric stopped. "Why are you dating him?" he asked insistently.

"Because I like him!" said Mairead. "Because he likes me! Why is that so hard for you to understand? You like Cho Chang."

"Don't even compare the two of them," Cedric snapped.

Mairead stopped pacing in front of Cedric and put her hands on her hips. "I do not get why you hate him so much," she said angrily. "I seriously don't. It's not like you're into me or anything."

Cedric paused.

Mairead's eyebrows shot up. "Er... right?" she questioned.

"But are you into me?" asked Cedric.

"What?!"

"Are you?" he asked again. "Into me?"

"Where the fuck is this coming from?" she asked indignantly.

"Why are you dating Davies?" Cedric demanded. "He doesn't give a shit about you! You are worthless to him! There must be a reason why you're dating him. Is it... is it that you're secretly into me and my Dad scared you off?"

Mairead scoffed derisively. "Brace yourself for a shock, here, lad, but not every girl and gay boy on the planet is into you," she said scathingly.

Cedric shrugged questioningly. "Is it just that you don't want to graduate still a virgin?"

Mairead stared at him, thunderstruck, but Cedric appeared to misinterpret her shock for being caught out.

"If that's it, May, I can recommend plenty of other guys you'd be better off going to for that," he went on. "Hell, if you really wanted, I could -"

He was cut off by Mairead slapping him across the face as hard as she could. She hit him so hard his head snapped to one side. He brought his head back around to face her, hand clutching his cheek, and the two looked at each other in a ringing silence.

"Go to hell," said Mairead raggedly, starting to cry again. She walked past Cedric towards the passageway out of the Common Room, but turned back to him before leaving. "Roger has never made me feel as worthless as you just did," she said brokenly.

With that, she turned and left.

As soon as she got out of the earthen passageway and her feet hit stones Mairead realized that she was barefoot. Pain shot up her calves as the cold from the stones traveled up her legs, but there was no way she was going back for shoes. She broke into a run and didn't stop until she had climbed the winding staircase up to Ravenclaw Tower.

When she arrived at the wooden door that concealed the Ravenclaw Common Room, she reached for the eagle-shaped knocker and let it fall. The handsome bronze eagle stirred and opened its beak.

"One of these words does not belong," the eagle said. "Which is it and why? Brawl, Carrot, Change, Clover, Proper, Sacred, Stone, Seventy, Swing, Travel."

Mairead shook her head. "Sorry," she said. "Can you just tell me if Ansel Williams is inside?"

The eagle turned its head to regard her out of one of its sapphire eyes. "Is that your answer?" it asked.

"No," sighed Mairead. "I'm not trying to go in; I just want to know if Ansel Williams is inside. Or Edgar Okada?"

"I will repeat the prompt," the eagle stated. "One of these words does not belong..."

"No - can you just - I -" Mairead stammered before finally giving in and letting the eagle finish. "I don't know the answer," she mumbled when it had finished.

"Then you may not enter," responded the eagle.

"I don't want to come in; I just need to see somebody!" she snapped furiously.

The eagle regarded her impassively. "In order to enter, you must tell me: which word does not belong?"

"I dunno - why is a raven like a writing desk?!" she mocked in frustration.

"That is obvious," the eagle replied.

Mairead slumped against the wall and buried her face in her hands in defeat. Her feet and legs were throbbing from the cold. She was just about to limp off when the door opened from the inside. She looked up hopefully and recognized one of the Ravenclaw Beaters, whose name she didn't know.

"Oh!" she cried. "Please, could you please help me? I'm not asking to come inside, I just -"

"Oh, it's you," the boy cut her off. He turned and called over his shoulder, "Oi! Roger! Your girlfriend's out here," and then he excused himself and continued on his way.

Roger came to the doorway, looking surprised. "Babe," he said.

She couldn't hold herself together anymore. She felt her face contort as a sob hiccuped out of her.

"Oh, babe," said Roger, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around her. "I'm sorry about earlier."

Mairead leaned heavily on Roger and sobbed her heart out into his shoulder. She didn't care that he misunderstood why she was there. She just desperately needed someone to hold her and keep the pieces she was falling into all in one place.

"I get that I shouldn't have come onto you at work," Roger continued, stroking her back. "I just couldn't resist. I love you so much."

Mairead pulled away from Roger and blinked up at him in surprise, still hiccoughing. Roger leaned down and brushed a kiss onto her lips.

"I love you, too," she whispered against his mouth.

She didn't know if he meant it. She didn't know if she meant it. But it was the love she was being offered, and at the moment she was feeling as unloved as she had when she had first arrived at Hogwarts seven years ago.

So she decided to accept what she was being offered.

...

Mairead spent the next day in a deep funk. She and Cedric were not speaking, and though she had adopted a look of cold indifference every time she had seen him, in truth, it was eating her up inside. She had opted to skip dinner and chose to spend the time she had before meeting with Professor Lupin sitting under her favorite tree by the lake. She picked a blade of newly formed grass and brushed it softly across her lips as she stared out at the lake and brooded upon her closest friendship.

From the moment they had met five years ago, she and Cedric had instantly been best friends. It was as if their souls had recognized each other and pulled them together. Cedric was not only great to talk to, fun to be around, and always there for her; he was also the best person she knew. He was thoughtful, honest, hard-working, loyal, cared deeply about fairness and justice, and was genuinely kind and compassionate. Mairead looked up to Cedric and admired him fervently. He was just such a good person. It was killing her not to share smiles and looks with him, not to reach out and squeeze his hand affectionately when they passed one another in corridors.

But she also could not forget the way he had treated her. He had taken his disappointment in his father out on her, the victim in the situation. He had raised his voice at her and insulted her. He had all but called her a slut.

This last thought brought her mind around to Roger, and her mood only darkened. She had also spent the day avoiding her boyfriend. Roger had let her cry herself out on his shoulder the night before, then invited her into his Common Room to cuddle. They had sat in an oversized armchair together, Mairead sitting in Roger's lap and letting her legs dangle over the side of the chair. Cuddling had turned into kissing; kissing had turned into snogging; snogging had turned into heavy petting; and Mairead had wound up quietly begging Roger to stop before they drew attention to themselves.

"Why don't you come up to bed with me?" Roger had suggested.

"Roger, no," Mairead had whispered, desperately tugging at his wrist, which he was inching up her skirt. "Please stop! Somebody is going to see!"

"If you're worried somebody's going to see, come to my dorm room with me," Roger had responded. "We'll be alone there."

He pushed his hand the remaining distance up her skirt and stroked her roughly through her underwear.

Mairead had stifled a yelp and tried to struggle away from Roger.

"Stop!" she had hissed at him.

"You know how to get it to stop, Mairead."

Mairead had set her jaw and said, "Yes, I do." With that, she had stood up, yanked her skirt back into place, and started for the door.

Roger had reached out a hand and snagged her wrist. "C'mon, calm down, I was only joking," he had said in a tone that indicated he was weary of her humourlessness. "Come back."

Mairead considered her options and reluctantly resumed her seat.

After that, Roger had been more respectful, and she had wound up staying until curfew.

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to have a pair of socks I could borrow, would you?" she had asked Roger. The thought of repeating her painful trek across the ice-cold, uneven stones back to Hufflepuff Basement was not appealing.

"Sure I do," Roger had said. There was a glint in his eye that Mairead didn't like. "They're in my bedroom."

Mairead had hobbled back to her Common Room barefoot.

Sitting by the lake, Mairead wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. Perhaps this was as good as relationships got, she mused. She had only been in one other relationship before Roger. She and Steven had had a grand time together; he'd made her laugh with his outrageous sense of humour and larger-than-life personality, and he had said she was his moral compass. They had dated for nearly the entirety of her sixth year, and she truly had thought that they would stay together after he graduated.

Thinking back on it now, though, she didn't think she had ever been in love with him, and she highly doubted he had loved her.

Maybe love is just a made-up concept, she thought to herself. At least romantic love.

She didn't doubt for a single second her love for Ansel, Edgar, and Sophie. And even now in the lowest point of their friendship, her love for Cedric was as solid and immutable as the mountains.

But she had never been in love before, nor had she ever seen two people who really, truly seemed to be in love themselves. Her parents certainly had not been in love. Now that she was old enough to look back on it, she could see that her mother had stayed with her father out of fear, and that to her father, her mother had been a trophy, a conquest, a symbol of status.

Claire had been a remarkable beauty, with her blazing red hair that waved in an effortless perfection Mairead could never achieve and her eyes as deep and blue as the sea. She had had flawless, alabaster skin, naturally red lips, and a face like an Elven Princess. Everywhere they had gone when Mairead was a child, people had stared at her mother. Even though it was long ago, she could remember men stopping in their tracks when her mother walked down the street. She could remember the envious looks the other Death Eaters' wives shot at her mother, and she could remember a hungry glint in the eyes of the men that she hadn't understood, but which had made her feel deeply uncomfortable.

Perhaps this was all love was: to burn with lust.

If that was the case, then perhaps Roger really did love her. If that was the case, perhaps she did not really love Roger.

It wasn't that Mairead wasn't attracted to Roger; she was. But every time she thought of going to bed with him, letting him see her naked, and letting him put a part of his body inside of her body, she quailed with anxiety. The thought was alien and frightening to her, and made her stomach tighten into knots.

Chuckling darkly to herself, she imagined the surprise that would be in store for Professor Lupin should he introduce her to another Boggart and instead of assuming the shape of her father, it became Roger Davies, smirking and saying, "Let's have a look at that fanny, then."

With a start, she checked her watch.

"Shit," she muttered, grabbing her bag and jumping to her feet.

As she moved at a brisk trot back up to the castle, she mentally shook herself and told herself to pull herself together. She had already wept twice that day in distress, but she was determined to take her mind off her woes with both Cedric and Roger while she was with Professor Lupin. The poor man had already dealt with enough of her interpersonal drama; he didn't need this.

She arrived outside Lupin's office with only two minutes to spare. She took a moment to catch her breath, and while she was doing so she opened her bag and pulled out a large, flat paper sleeve. Clutching it nervously in one hand, she raised her other hand and knocked on his door frame.

Professor Lupin paused in the middle of making two cups of tea and smiled. "I'm actually on schedule tonight," he said. "I know: you must be shocked."

Mairead giggled and walked over to set her bag down on the ground next to her chair.

"What have you got there?" Lupin asked curiously, seeing the paper sleeve in her hand.

Immediately Mairead's face felt as though it had caught fire. "It's a gift," she mumbled, looking down and fiddling with the paper.

"A gift?" he repeated mildly.

She nodded at her shoes. "I got it for you while I was in London."

Lupin smiled slightly. "That was very kind of you," he said. "You didn't have to do that."

"Well, don't get too excited," said Mairead hastily. "It might not be right."

He cocked his head slightly to one side in the way Mairead loved. It reminded her of a curious puppy. "What is it?" he asked.

Mairead pulled both lips into her mouth and bit down nervously. Screwing up her courage, she said what she had imagined she would say if this moment ever came to pass. "Close your eyes."

Professor Lupin raised an eyebrow.

"Please?" she added plaintively.

Lupin hesitated for a moment, a funny little smile playing at the corners of his lips, before giving a little sigh, folding his arms, and closing his eyes.

Mairead's stomach felt like it was flopping around freely inside her abdomen, and her fingers trembled slightly as she pulled the record out of the paper bag. She walked over to Professor Lupin's gramophone and placed the vinyl on the turntable. Winding up the machine and making sure it was set to the correct speed, she paused, letting the needle hover over the record, and finally gently set it down into the grooves of the vinyl. Mairead looked up from the gramophone and over at Lupin, anxious to see his response.

For a second or two, all that came out of the speakers was hissing and popping.

Then the sweet, lilting notes of a guitar filled the room.

Professor Lupin's eyes snapped open.

A man with a smooth, warm voice began singing, and Lupin's eyes met Mairead's. His mouth was slightly open, his eyebrows had shot up, and his eyes were wide.

He looked positively gobsmacked.

"How?" he whispered.

"Is this it?" asked Mairead. She wasn't sure why, but she was also whispering.

Lupin nodded, still looking stunned. Mairead couldn't stop a huge, victorious smile from spreading across her face.

"How?" he repeated.

"I spent the whole week going into every record shop in London I could find," she explained. "I used the information you had given me to describe the song, and four different shopkeepers suggested this one."

Professor Lupin exhaled sharply in disbelief. "This - this is incredible," he stammered. He looked at Mairead, his eyes burning with intensity. "You're incredible."

Mairead was so pleased she couldn't speak, so she just smiled and let herself enjoy watching him listen to the song.

Lupin wandered over closer to Mairead and the gramophone. His eyes were unfocused as he listened. Mairead watched his lips form, "One and one is two" right in time to the lyrics.

"You remember it?" she asked quietly.

He looked at her and the right side of his mouth tugged upwards. "I do," he said in hushed reverence. "Now that I'm hearing it again I remember all of it."

He let out a surprised laugh and continued to listen. His lips continued to move to the lyrics. When he mouthed along to the man singing, "For maybe by being an A student, baby" he looked right at her and she thought she would melt with pleasure.

As she held Lupin's gaze, she saw a twinkle come into his eye.

"Here," he said, suddenly reaching out and grabbing her hand.

He tugged her into the center of the room where there was no furniture. Before Mairead could register what was happening, he raised their clasped hands and twirled her around in a circle. She let out an undignified squeal of surprise that broke off into a choked gasp when he then pulled her into his arms. His right arm guided her left up onto his shoulder before curling around her waist and cradling her back, and his left held her right hand. He grinned and began to spin her around the room.

"I - no - Professor -" she stuttered, stumbling over her feet as he swayed them back and forth. "I can't dance," she finally managed to get out.

"Don't be ridiculous, you're dancing right now," he said. He sounded lighthearted in a way she had never heard before.

With a breathless laugh, she surrendered and allowed herself to be swept up in the moment. Lupin was a marvelous dancer. For her part, she felt horrendously clumsy and trod on his foot more than once, but if he noticed he didn't say anything. She found she was far too shy to look at him as they danced. Instead she stared at his right shoulder. The seam where his sleeve met the shoulder of his shirt had clearly popped and been neatly mended at some point, albeit with thread that didn't quite match.

Mairead was completely overwhelmed. The only other time she had ever been this close to him was when he had worked on her stance with her, and even then he had been behind her, not face-to-face as they were now. He smelled amazing, like chocolate and Earl Grey tea, but there was something else there, too. A woodsy smell that made Mairead think of a forest in autumn.

Lupin brought her out of her thoughts by pulling away and twirling her around again. This time instead of squealing she felt a giggle bubble out of her that wrinkled her nose and brought a huge smile to Lupin's face.

He pulled her close again as the man on the record began scatting. Lupin leaned down close to her and began singing along with the backup singers into her ear.

Mairead felt like her heart was going to explode.

The song was over far too soon. As the guitar strummed the final notes, Lupin splayed his fingers across Mairead's back to support her as he gently dipped her backwards.

She let out a tiny shriek and squeezed her eyes shut as she desperately clutched at his shoulder and squeezed the fingers of the hand that was holding hers. She could hear him chuckle quietly.

"I've got you," his voice was a gentle purr as he easily pulled her upright again.

Mairead's heart was beating wildly in her chest as they stepped away from each other. She felt undone by shyness, but she forced herself to act casual and tried to smile easily at him.

Lupin's eyes were shining with happiness. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "You don't know what this means to me. Thank you so much."

Mairead put her hands in her pockets and slouched onto one leg, trying desperately to look laid back. "Anytime," she said.

"I wonder what's on the B side..." said Lupin curiously. He turned away from her and began fiddling with the gramophone.

As soon as his back was to her, Mairead reached out a hand to steady herself on his desk. She pressed the other to her chest and willed her heart to slow down and her head to stop spinning.

Her world was tilting on its axis. All of her earlier doubts had disappeared. In the space of one two-minute song, all of her skepticism and cynicism had vanished. She was a completely different person from the girl who had walked in the door five minutes before.

She now knew, with completely certainty, that romantic love was real. And she was in it with Remus Lupin.

...

Author's Note: Ahhh, so much drama! What did you think? Too much? Not enough? How was the last scene for you? ;-)

Song for this chapter: The song Remus and Mairead dance to is "(What a) Wonderful World," by Sam Cooke. It is also where this chapter gets its title and I thought it would also be fitting for Mairead's soundtrack for this chapter.