Author's Note: Special thanks to GraceMonroe and XAlstroemeriaX for their reviews! Ya'll have no idea how much glee I get from reading your reviews, so thank you, thank you, thank you!
Okay, folks, here we are. So remember back in my note at the beginning of Chapter One in which I said that there would be one chapter that would be censored on this site? Yeah, this is the one. Personally, I find this site's rubric for what gets taken down and what gets to stay up to be a little... scattershot? So rather than take the risk that this fic will be taken down, I am going to be cutting the scene in question entirely. If you would like to read the uncensored version of this chapter, kindly head over to Ao3. The story is under the same name, but my penname there is FuzzyCatSocks (because fuzzy cat socks, amirite?). Please let me know if you are looking for it and having trouble finding it. Before you head over there, however, I do want to note that the scene contains explicit, **nonconsensual** sexual content. I considered posting the scene here in a pared down fashion, but I wanted readers to have a place to go where they could still read the chapter but avoid that trigger. Anyway, safe reading, please let me know if you have any questions, and I hope that, whichever version you read, that you enjoy!
...
Chapter Fourteen: The ScoreRoger and Mairead made up the next day. He apologized for what he had done, blaming his actions on her beauty and irresistible charms.
Mairead was neither naïve nor confident enough to believe that her appearance could have that level of sway over another person, but she decided to give him another chance when he promised to be more respectful.
Roger proved true to his word. For the rest of the week, he was sweet and mindful of her boundaries. He spent more time with her than he had before the holidays, and listened to her when she said "no." He walked her to classes whenever possible, and when they arrived outside Professor Lupin's office door on Wednesday evening to find a note saying that Lupin had been unexpectedly called away and would have to miss their lesson, Roger even accompanied her to the student Potions lab, which he said he hadn't even known existed, and stayed with her while she tried out another batch of her magical version of Tipp-Ex. True, he may have wound up sidetracking her until she agreed to give him a hand job, but he backed off when she had told him she wasn't interested in taking things further.
And though this distraction had resulted in a ruined batch of her latest test formula, Mairead was grateful for the diversion. She was quite worried about Professor Lupin. Even though his note had said he had just had something else to attend to, she feared that he had fallen ill again. Indeed, when Mairead saw Lupin in class the next afternoon, she noted that he looked exhausted and peaky, just as he always did after a bout of illness.
Perhaps he was away seeing a specialist, she thought. Her faith in the power of Healing told her that this would be the best possible outcome, but she found that it did nothing to quell her fears for Lupin.
When she was able to drag her thoughts away from her grey-eyed, mysterious professor, Mairead was grateful that Roger had changed his ways. She and Cedric had still not made up, and she was desperately lonely. She was also growing increasingly stressed by the crushing workload her professors were piling on the Seventh Years. When she confided this to Roger on Friday, he visited her at work that evening and brought her flowers. She thought to herself that their relationship was stronger than ever, and she felt more certain than ever that everyone had been wrong about Roger.
The next day was the final Quidditch match of the season. Gryffindor would be going up against Slytherin for the House Cup. For days the match had been all anyone at the school had been able to talk about. Madam Pince had wound up announcing that the library would be closed that day, as she had been unable to find anyone who was willing to work. Mairead and Cedric had made plans weeks before to watch the match together, but since they were still in a fight, she would be watching the match with Roger up in the Ravenclaw stands instead.
Saturday dawned gorgeous, clear, warm, and still, and Mairead dressed in a yellow sundress for the occasion. When she and Roger met to walk down to the stadium together he gave her a scarlet rosette, as they would obviously be supporting Gryffindor. Mairead thought the rosette clashed horribly with her hair, but she wore it nevertheless.
The Gryffindor players walked out onto the field to thunderous applause from three quarters of the student body. When the Slytherin team entered the field, all of the students in the Slytherin stand heartily roared their approval, valiantly trying to drown out the boos and hisses from the other students.
"I feel kind of bad for them," Mairead remarked in Roger's ear. "Everyone but them wants Gryffindor to win. It's not evenly split."
"They bring it on themselves," said Roger, shrugging carelessly.
The game began, and almost instantly Mairead lost the plot of what was happening. The gameplay was so quick, and her understanding of the rules still so tenuous, that she quickly became totally lost. What was extremely apparent, however, was how dirty the game was. Within minutes Madam Hooch awarded both teams penalty shots, and only shortly after the teams took their shots, Gryffindor was awarded another penalty shot.
What Mairead could understand, though, was what it meant when Harry Potter suddenly began a sweeping dive on his broomstick.
"He's spotted the Snitch!" she cried, pointing.
"What the bloody hell does he think he's doing?!" roared Roger. "If he catches the Snitch now they'll lose the cup!"
The two Beaters from the Slytherin team closed in on Harry. What happened next, Mairead wasn't sure, but there was a loud groan from the spectators and both Beaters went staggering away from one another on their brooms, clutching their heads.
"What happened?" Mairead asked Roger, who was laughing gleefully.
"It was a fake-out," said Roger, still grinning. "Potter was Feinting. And when he pulled out of the dive the Beaters smashed into each other."
Mairead sat back in her seat, bewildered. She had no idea how Harry could have stayed on his broom if he had been about to faint.
She was brought out of her thoughts when Lee Jordan, the Gryffindor student in charge of commentating on the match, let out a, "FUCKING HELL!" There ensued a brief struggle between Lee and Professor McGonagall over the magical megaphone Lee was using to project his voice. Mairead didn't know what had precipitated Lee's language, but the Quidditch players obviously did, as both teams were soon after awarded another penalty.
Mairead sighed heavily, blowing a stray curl out of her face as she slumped in her seat, totally lost. At one point, when Madam Hooch started shouting at the Slytherin Beaters for something they had evidently done to the Gryffindor team Captain while Mairead had been looking at the wrong end of the field, she leaned over to Roger.
"Is it normal for this many penalties to happen?" she asked him.
"No way," Roger chortled. "This is bloody brutal."
The second time Harry Potter dove for the Snitch, Mairead stayed quiet, not wanting to look a fool. This time, however, everyone in the Ravenclaw stands began shouting and half-rising from their seats. Harry was unsuccessful at catching the Snitch, however, as Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin Seeker, launched himself forward from his own broomstick and grabbed the tail of Harry's broomstick to slow it down.
Evidently, this was bad form.
The entire stadium erupted at this. Lee Jordan and Professor McGonagall were both shouting angrily into the megaphone, and it was a testament to how angry all of the Gryffindor supporters were that Lee's and McGonagall's amplified voices were difficult to discern over the tumult.
There was a brief pause while the Slytherin team were shouted at. During this lull, Roger twisted in his seat to say something to his friend - the Beater who had come to the Ravenclaw door when Mairead was there. She turned to say hello to him and froze when she caught sight of the person sitting next to him.
Cedric was seated in between the Beater and Cho Chang - and directly behind Mairead. He had been there the entire match and hadn't so much as said hello to her. Their eyes locked and Mairead let her hurt feelings show plainly on her face. Cedric dropped her gaze and turned to listen to what the Beater was saying.
Mairead quickly turned back to face front, taking quick, shallow breaths and wrapping her arms tightly around herself. The game resumed, but Mairead didn't bother to follow it, instead focusing her energy on not dissolving into tears.
Suddenly, a gasp went up around the stands. Mairead looked up and darted her eyes around the field to try to surmise what everyone was reacting to. Her eyes caught on Malfoy, who was bent forward on his broom in a dive. She saw a scarlet blur streaking after him from clear on the other side of the field. The player, who Mairead assumed was Harry Potter, was lying flat on top of his broom. He was steadily gaining on Malfoy, but Mairead leaned forward in her seat and dug her nails into her palms, sure that he wouldn't make it in time. She strained her eyes and could just see a glint of gold not far out of Malfoy's reach.
Malfoy stretched out a hand for the Snitch just as Harry came up alongside him. They both pulled out of the dive and the crowd exploded with applause.
Mairead blinked and looked around at the other students. She hadn't been able to discern what had happened, but it was clear from the jubilant expressions on the Ravenclaws' faces that Gryffindor had won. Everyone around her had jumped to their feet. They were screaming and stomping. Roger leaned over the back of his seat and embraced his Beater friend with much back-thumping.
Mairead stood up, not wanting to be the only person still seated, and turned around to find Cedric grinning hugely. Her heart gave a painful twinge at the sight of her best friend looking so beautifully happy, and at the knowledge that she was not invited to share in his celebration.
Mairead was about to avert her eyes when Cedric met her gaze. Mairead could almost feel the shimmering, fragile possibility of reconciliation hovering in the air between the two of them, but just as she opened her mouth to say something to him she felt an arm hook around her neck and pull her to one side. Roger had pulled her in for a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. By the time she broke free and looked back over at Cedric, his facial expression had morphed from conciliatory to disgusted. He met her gaze and all she could see was judgement.
Mairead felt anger flare in her and she tore her eyes away from Cedric. She determinedly avoided his gaze while the Gryffindor team made their way up to the stands to accept the Quidditch Cup from the Headmaster, and when Roger slung an arm around her once again and told her that he had got word there would be a party in the Gryffindor Common Room and he had scored an invitation, she smiled brightly at him and said she would love to go.
Lee Jordan, the Gryffindor boy who had commentated on the match, let them into the Gryffindor Common Room when they arrived. The celebration was already in full swing. The Common Room had been decorated with flags and red and gold streamers, and somebody had bewitched the flames in the fireplace to burn red and gold. Someone had tuned a radio to a Wizarding Wireless station that was playing popular music, and a few students were moving furniture to clear space for a dance floor.
Roger wandered off to congratulate Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor team Captain, leaving Mairead alone in the crowd.
She shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, not confident enough to dance on her own, and not knowing any of the Gryffindor students well enough to join the clumps of dancers.
"Drink?" she heard a voice say in her ear.
She turned and saw one of the Weasley twins, offering her a golden beverage.
"What is this?" she asked him.
"Butterbeer," said the other twin, who had just materialized beside his brother.
Mairead accepted the glass, took a gulp, and immediately choked on the burning liquid.
"Butterbeer?" she coughed, wiping at her streaming eyes.
One of the twins shrugged, grinning impishly. "Well, there's Butterbeer in there," he amended.
"What should we call it, Fred?" asked the other, who was obviously George.
"Butterwhiskey?"
"Firebeer?"
"Butterbourbon?"
Mairead's head snapped back and forth between the two identical twins as they volleyed name ideas back and forth. Whatever the cocktail was they had offered her, its effects were beginning to spread all over her body. She felt pleasantly warm down to the very tips of her fingers, and she grinned as she raised her glass to them before moving away.
"Well, thanks for the Victory Juice," she said.
The twins both looked at her with the same expression of pleased surprise.
"Victory Juice!" they crowed in unison.
Mairead giggled into her glass as she took another sip and joined the throng, feeling slightly more confident.
The party lasted all evening and late into the night. Roger eventually came back to her and danced with her. He held her close to his chest and snogged her in full view of everyone but she didn't mind so much here, as so many other couples were snogging as well. After about an hour the Weasley twins made another appearance, this time with snacks and sugary treats to go along with the large amounts of alcohol they had somehow procured. Roger kept the Victory Juice (which had become the official name for Fred and George's cocktail) coming her way, and Mairead drank several more helpings of it, ate deliciously unhealthy food of no nutritional value, danced until she was overheated and dizzy, laughed helplessly, and even made friends with a Fifth Year Gryffindor girl whose hair she held while the girl vomited out the window.
After helping the girl to her bed and making sure she had drunk several glasses of water, Mairead decided she wanted to switch to water herself, but compromised by drinking one more glass of Victory Juice, which turned into two more glasses, just because Roger had brought them for her and he really was looking terrifically handsome tonight with his shining hazel eyes and his floppy brown curls and his dead sexy smile and every casual touch of his set her skin on fire and she just didn't want to say 'no' to him.
Around eleven Mairead started to feel slightly sick from all of the sweets and alcohol she had consumed, and she found Roger in the crowd and told him she wanted to go back to her dormitory.
"I'll walk you," he offered.
She beamed at him. "That is so sssweet of you!" she said earnestly.
Roger's eyes crinkled and he smiled at her slightly slurred speech, and she was suddenly overwhelmed by how much she liked him and how lucky she felt to be his girlfriend.
She stood up on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him as if it were the end of the world. She could feel his arms go around her waist and hold her tightly as he enthusiastically returned the kiss.
Roger maneuvered them away from the crowd and into a corner. He pressed Mairead insistently up against a wall and trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down her throat. Mairead tipped her head back and grabbed fistfuls of Roger's dark curls. Roger's hands went to her breasts and squeezed. The material from her dress was thin enough that she could feel his thumbs brush over her nipples, which had hardened into peaks, and she moaned, suddenly not caring who could hear her.
Roger's lips found hers again and she eagerly opened her mouth to allow his tongue to thrust inside. Roger's body was pressed against hers and she could feel a hard bulge grinding against her stomach.
Desire hit her like a tidal wave. She broke the kiss and stared at Roger wildly. He must have seen the unmitigated lust in her gaze, because he said in a low voice, "Let's get out of here."
Mairead could feel her heart thudding in her chest, whether from excitement or nervousness she didn't know. But before she had consciously made a decision, she felt him take her hand and lead her out of Gryffindor Tower.
Roger did not escort her back to the Hufflepuff Basement as Mairead had thought he would. His hand held hers tightly as he led the way back to Ravenclaw Tower. Mairead's head felt like a beehive, full of honey and buzzing.
Roger listened to the eagle as it read him a riddle that Mairead found incomprehensible, but he easily answered it and led Mairead inside.
"You are so smart," she breathed, stopping to press her lips against his again.
"You are so beautiful," he replied, staring deeply into her eyes.
Without another word, Roger took her by the hand and led her to his dorm room.
...
When Mairead dragged herself out of bed the next day, she wasn't sure what was worse: the throbbing in her head, or the throbbing between her legs.
By the time she had vomited, drunk a glass of water, dressed, vomited the water back up again, and walked bow-legged to the library, she had decided that the headache was worse. At least the pain in her groin subsided when she wasn't moving, but the headache was with her no matter what she did.
She was absolutely useless at work, and as soon as she finished her shift she headed straight for Hufflepuff Basement and crawled back into bed. She placed a wet rag over her eyes and vowed never to get drunk again.
Mairead spent Monday and Tuesday avoiding Roger. He had found her at the library during her Sunday shift and invited her to come back to his dorm with him after work, but she had begged off, blaming the hangover.
On Monday he asked her to come to his dorm after her classes ended and before her meeting with Professor Lupin. When she had said no to that Roger asked her to come by after her lesson and she said she would be too tired.
By Tuesday afternoon she knew she had to talk to him. She deeply regretted going to bed with him, and she knew from his persistence that she wouldn't be able to avoid the topic forever. She had hoped that some distance would imbue her with a new perspective on the act - sex was beautiful; they hadn't shagged, they had made love; sex was a perfectly natural part of life.
But no matter which way she looked at it, she came back to the same conclusion: she hadn't been ready.
She had resolved to talk to Roger after her Tuesday evening shift in the Greenhouses. She knew that his favorite haunt was the Ravenclaw Quidditch stands. He had told her that he liked to hang out there even when no one was practicing. She had been rehearsing what she would say in her head all afternoon, and she felt completely ready to talk to him.
So naturally when Roger showed up at the Greenhouses unannounced, she was caught completely flat-footed.
It didn't help that he was looking absolutely perfect. It was breezy outside, his hair had a perfectly mussed look, and his cheeks had roses in them that only served to highlight his well-defined jawline and high cheekbones.
For her part, Mairead had dirt smeared on her face, caked under her fingernails, and flecked in her hair, which was tied back in a messy bun. And not a cool, gracefully swept up, effortless-but-oh-so-chic messy bun. An actual messy bun.
Roger smirked when he saw her. "Dirty girl," he said, the double entendre coming out as a low growl. He stripped off his cloak and threw it carelessly over a table.
Mairead let out a nervous, breathy laugh and quickly went over to the sink to try to clean herself up. She was rinsing the soap off when she felt Roger's arms slip around her from behind.
He began kissing the back of her neck, and his hands slid up to cup her breasts. She felt him press up against her and grind his hips against her backside.
Mairead fumbled for the tap and shut the water off before clutching the sides of the sink to support her shaking knees.
"Want to try it from behind?" Roger purred in her ear.
Just say yes, the voice in her head said. It'll be easier.
Mairead closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Roger," she said quietly. "Can we talk?"
"We can talk after."
Mairead let go of the sink and turned around to face him. "No, I - I think -" she fumbled as Roger dipped his head and began sucking on the side of her throat. "I need to talk now."
Roger sighed and pulled away. Mairead thought she saw him roll his eyes briefly as he straightened.
"What is it?" he said, looking like she was trying his patience.
"I - it's about the other night," she began.
"Okay..."
Mairead huffed out a nervous breath. "I... you see... so - when..."
She couldn't remember any of what she had prepared to say to Roger.
"Erm, so, on Saturday..." What had happened on Saturday? Other than the obvious, that was?
Roger's patience ran out. "Look," he said, "Clearly whatever it was wasn't that important, so let's just get back to it later."
"No, it was important!" Mairead insisted.
"Let's talk about it after."
"No, I need to talk about it now."
"Then what is it?!" he demanded.
"I'm not ready to have sex!" The words burst out of Mairead.
Roger looked at her in confusion. "Do you need another minute to clean up?" he asked.
"N-no," she stammered. "I mean like, in general. I'm not ready to be having sex yet."
Roger looked at her like she was not very bright. "Mairead, you've already had sex."
Mairead nodded, feeling slightly faint. "And I wasn't ready," she said quietly.
Roger shrugged slightly. "Well, it's kind of too late to go back and change it," he said, sounding increasingly annoyed.
"I know that," Mairead replied, feeling stupider by the second. "But... but I'm still not ready, so..."
"I don't get where this is going," said Roger. "Look, I know it hurt. It's like I said: it always hurts the first time or two. It'll get better after a few more times."
Wait - it's going to hurt again? She wondered.
She stiffened her spine and summoned all her courage. "Where this is going is that I don't want to have sex again until I feel ready," she said as calmly as she could.
Roger scoffed. "What?"
"I said -"
"I heard what you said!" he cut her off. "I just - I can't - are you serious?"
Biting down on her lip, Mairead nodded.
Roger stared at her like he couldn't believe his ears. "What the fuck?" he finally said.
"I'm sorry if you're disappointed," she said, some of the script she had prepared returning to her. "This isn't about anything you've done. It's just what I need."
"What you need is to have your head examined," Roger snapped. "You don't just get to do this. We're already shagging. You can't go back now."
Mairead couldn't think of anything to say. She could feel her heart thudding and her legs beginning to tremble. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "M-maybe I'll be ready again before the end of the year. I don't know. I'm just not ready right now."
"The end of the year?" echoed Roger. "No fucking way. I'm not waiting that long."
"Wh-what does that mean?" she asked.
"Figure it out."
Mairead could feel tears starting in her eyes. Her breath hitched and she hugged her arms around herself as she bore the silence.
Roger turned away from her and paced the greenhouse for a few steps. When he came back, he said, "You know, guys aren't exactly lining up for you, Mairead. Did you consider that? And besides: you kind of need all the practice you can get."
Mairead frowned. "What?" she said. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're a lousy fuck," said Roger in an extremely nasty tone. "So even if you do manage to find somebody else who'll take the risk of being seen with you, they're not going to want to stay with you when they find out how useless you are in bed."
Mairead stood in stunned silence, too hurt to respond.
Roger was clearly waiting for her to apologize, and when she didn't, he scoffed again. "You know what? I don't need this," he said, throwing up his hands. "I guess insanity must run in your family."
He walked over to the table he had thrown his cloak down on, picked it up, and slung it over his shoulder. "Find me if you manage to get your shit together," he said over his shoulder as he stormed out.
Mairead watched the door to the greenhouse clatter shut behind Roger, then slid to the earthen floor, curled into a ball, and began to cry.
...
Mairead tried to get Roger off her mind as best she could, but her mind kept returning to the things he had said, and how angry he had been with her. She desperately wanted him to apologize, but by Thursday afternoon he still hadn't come to her, and she began to wonder whether he wasn't justified in his anger towards her.
Perhaps she was being unfair. Or perhaps she just hadn't explained well enough why she wanted to wait.
She decided that, nervous as the thought made her, she needed to talk to Roger. After all, if they were going to work through this it should probably be together.
And so, after dinner on Thursday evening, Mairead put on a pretty dress and set off for the Ravenclaw Quidditch stands where she knew she would find Roger.
Mairead labored up the stairs, using her arms to pull herself up by the railings to give her legs a break whenever they got too sore. She thought she could hear something as she drew near the top of the stairs, but she knew that if she stopped to listen she would never be able to make her legs resume climbing. She figured it was probably just her wheezing and shuffling footsteps she heard echoing. But as she rounded the last corner and wearily lifted her foot to start up the final set of stairs, she definitely heard something, and she was certain it was not coming from her.
It sounded like labored breathing, but Mairead painfully held her own breath for a few seconds and the sound persisted.
Mairead was struck with the sickening thought that something had happened to Roger. What if Sirius Black had made it back onto the Hogwarts grounds and had somehow spotted Roger alone in the Quidditch stands?
Mairead drew her wand, though she wasn't sure what she planned to do with it, and climbed the remaining steps as quietly as she could. When she reached the top, she tiptoed across the landing and poked her head into the stands just enough to have a look around.
She spotted Roger and immediately surmised that, while he wasn't with Sirius Black, he wasn't alone, either.
Roger was on the benches leaning over the body of a girl whose face Mairead couldn't see, but who was wearing Slytherin robes. Her skirt was hiked up to her hips, knickers nowhere in sight, and her legs were spread wide open. Roger was rapidly working two fingers in and out of her as she writhed and panted. The girl's shoulder was moving rhythmically, and Mairead followed the line of the girl's arm to see that her hand was closed over Roger's cock and was pumping it up and down in time to the thrusting of Roger's fingers.
Mairead felt as though her head had been stuffed with cotton. She heard a ringing in her ears and her heart was thudding in a way that was unrelated to the climb she had just endured. She was trying to force her legs to move so that she could leave when the girl's back suddenly arched and Mairead caught a glimpse of her face.
"Sarah?!"
The girl's name was out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Both Sarah and Roger jumped and looked around at the sound of her voice.
To her (very, very small, almost nonexistent) credit, Sarah looked far more remorseful than Roger did.
"Mairead," she said unsteadily, scooting away from Roger and pulling her skirt down while Roger tucked himself back into his trousers.
Mairead looked back and forth between her friend and her boyfriend. "How could you?" she asked, unsure which of the two she was addressing.
"I'm sorry," said Sarah in a small voice. "Mairead, I'm so, so sorry!"
Mairead couldn't think of a thing to say to Sarah so she turned to Roger instead.
"I ask for some more time before we sleep together again and you immediately turn around and start shagging my friend?" she said disbelievingly.
"Don't flatter yourself," said Roger coolly. "This has nothing to do with that. Sarah and I've been shagging all year."
Mairead felt the bottom fall out of her stomach. She looked over at Sarah, who couldn't meet her eye.
"You've been sleeping with Roger all year?" she whispered. Sarah flinched as though Mairead had screamed at her.
"You should be thanking her," said Roger. "Who d'you think told me I should ask you out?"
Mairead stared at him, bewildered.
"What, you don't think I would've asked you out on my own, do you?" he scoffed. "You're not exactly up to my standards, babe. I did it as a favour to Sarah. She said you were pissed at her for something that happened in class and that if I asked you out you'd be happy enough to forgive her."
Mairead couldn't breathe. She truly thought she was going to faint right then and there. The only thing that made her cling onto consciousness was her determination not to humiliate herself even more than she already was.
"Is that true?" she asked Sarah faintly.
"I just wanted to make you happy," said Sarah. "Please - you've got to forgive me! You just have to!"
"You knew I liked Roger," Mairead said slowly. "I've liked him for ages." Her voice grew shakier and louder as her anger took hold of her. "You knew that, and you've been screwing around with him anyway? Behind my back? While Iwas dating him?!"
"What's it matter to you anyway?" Roger cut in. A cruel glint in his eye told Mairead his next words were really going to hurt. "You're just gonna go be a nun at St. Orphan's after you graduate anyway, aren't you?"
His words hit her like a knife. "You said you loved me," she quietly accused Roger.
Roger raised an eyebrow suggestively. "Yeah, and it worked," he said.
Mairead looked back and forth between Roger and Sarah once more, then turned to go. She was almost at the stairs when she heard Roger scoff and mutter, "Squib freak."
She whipped around and pointed her wand straight at Roger's head. Roger stumbled backwards, flinching and holding his hands up to shield his face.
A small smile tugged at one corner of Mairead's mouth. She had never intimidated anyone before. Roger might call her a Squib, but he clearly thought her powerful enough to be a threat.
"Cool," she said to herself.
Stowing her wand in her pocket, she turned and left.
...
In a way, Mairead was grateful that her most challenging class was scheduled for first thing Friday morning. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to drag herself out of bed. As it was, she pushed what had happened the previous night out of her mind and forced herself to focus on the Veritaserum she was supposed to be brewing.
She knew she was on borrowed time holding herself together, however, and by the time the bell rang releasing her from Muggle Studies that afternoon she practically ran for the door, desperate to get outside and into the fresh air before the images that kept flashing through her mind of Roger and Sarah straining and panting together made her lose her grip.
She just barely made it to her willow tree before she began to cry. Her vision was blurred by tears and as a result she scratched her face on a branch as she ducked inside the haven of the tree's leaves. She dropped down to the ground, pulled her knees up to her chest, and hid her face from the world.
Roger's cruel words kept replaying in her head - Yeah, and it worked.
What a fool she had been. What a sad, stupid, pathetic, naïve, foolish little girl.
"Mairead."
Mairead's head shot up at the sound of her best friend's voice. She looked around and saw Cedric weaving his way between the wispy willow branches. He had a smear of dirt on his cheek and Mairead remembered that he had Herbology on Friday afternoons.
"I just heard what happened," he said.
"Bet you're thrilled," she spat venomously.
"'Course I'm not," he said softly.
Mairead tilted her head to look up at him. He looked disconsolate, like his heart was aching for her.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you," he whispered, kneeling down to be level with her.
Mairead's chin wobbled, and the next thing she knew she and Cedric were locked in a tight embrace.
She sobbed her heart out on Cedric's shoulder. He apologized over and over again for the way he had treated her, the things he had said. She blubbered out apologies of her own, for not telling him about the letter, for flying off the handle, for not trusting him, for hitting him.
Cedric held her and squeezed her and she sobbed and wailed.
Eventually, after Mairead had been crying for quite some time, Cedric said entreatingly, "May, please. You can't let him do this to you. He doesn't deserve your tears. He's not worth it."
Mairead pulled back and looked incredulously at Cedric, eyes and nose streaming. "I'm n-not cr-crying over Roger," she said tremulously. "Fuck that guy. He's a total wanker. I got done crying over him like, twenty minutes ago."
"Why are you crying, then?" asked Cedric.
Mairead felt her face collapse and she had to cry passionately for a few minutes more before she could respond.
"I'm crying because y-you're my f-friend again," she finally choked out.
Cedric's face softened and he pulled Mairead back into his arms. "I never stopped being your friend," he murmured, squeezing her tightly. "And I never will. I'll never stop being your friend, May, I promise. I promise you: we'll be friends until the day I die."
...
Author's Note: What did you think? I'm sorry there was no Remus in this chapter, but hey! At least Roger's out of the picture now, right? And don't worry: I'll make the Remus-lessness up to you in that next chapter.
Song for this chapter: "Breaking Up," by Rilo Kiley (Mairead, obvs)