Author's Note: Thank you so much to GraceMonroe for your review! I appreciate you!
So, surprise! I'm posting a day early. Tomorrow begins my Very Busy Month(TM), and I was worried I wouldn't have time to post. And one more surprise: it's another long chapter!
This chapter contains dialogue taken directly from Chapter 31 of Goblet of Fire. This seems like a good time for a disclaimer that I do not own Harry Potter or any of the rights. Also, trans women are women, and trans rights are human rights.
Anyway, thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Eight: Cwtch
"Ladies and gentlemen," said Dumbledore, "in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now."
Mairead turned urgently in her seat, trying to catch Cedric's eye as he stood. But he wasn't looking her way; he was kissing Cho, who had thrown her arms around his neck. Mairead stood and waved her arms, trying to get Cedric's attention, but his eyes were closed, enjoying the embrace of his beautiful girlfriend.
"Cedric!" Mairead shouted. "Don't go!"
But her cry was drowned out by the deafening applause that surrounded her. She turned to tell her table companions to quiet down - she had to tell Cedric before it was too late - and she found herself surrounded, not by fellow Hufflepuffs, but by hooded figures in black cloaks.
Her mouth falling open in fear and dread, Mairead spun on the spot, calling out for help, but there was no help to be had. Every person at all four of the house tables was wearing an identical black cloak, their faces concealed behind masks like the one her father had kept in his wardrobe. The one he had caught her playing with once and given her a bath as punishment.
In desperation, Mairead looked up at the High Table and saw that the staff were all still there, but they didn't seem to be aware of the transformation that had taken place at the house tables. They were all smiling and applauding Cedric and Harry, Fleur and Krum.
Mairead jumped up and down on the spot, waving her arms and screaming, "Help! Somebody help - please!"
Dumbledore turned at the commotion and caught her eye. Relief flooded her system and she cried, "Professor Dumbledore! You've got to help Cedric!"
But Dumbledore just smiled his warm, mysterious smile and raised his glass in a silent toast to her.
Mechanically, without any ability to control what she was doing, Mairead felt herself reach for her glass and raise it as well. When it came to eye level, though, she saw she was not holding a goblet but a bouquet of gladioli.
Mairead startled awake. Her entire body was drenched in sweat, as were the bedsheets. Her heart was racing and alarm screamed through her veins. It took her a few moments to sort out what was going on, what was a dream and what was reality.
When it hit her, she burst into tears. She cried until her sobs turned into screams, and screamed until her screams turned into retching.
Throwing herself out of bed, Mairead barely made it to the bathroom in time. She clung to the toilet seat as her body was wracked by heaving and gagging. Her body didn't seem to care that her stomach had nothing to show for itself but phlegm and bile; her stomach repeatedly contracted, over and over, until Mairead was choking and gasping for air.
When the spasms finally passed, Mairead lay down on the floor and continued to weep, resting her face against the cool tiles but taking no comfort from their soothing temperature.
There was no catharsis to be found in her crying spells; no spiritual cleansing effect that would wash over her after having a good cry. In the month that had passed since Cedric's death, Mairead had come to learn the grim cycle of her grief. It would simply have its way with her until her body physically could not sustain the energy levels needed to express such loss, and then it would leave her in whatever position she had worked herself into to ride out the storm, and she would eventually come to herself, feeling so empty and lonely that she almost missed the grief because in those moments it felt like her only companion.
Mairead wasn't sure how long she had cried, and she wasn't sure how long she lay on the floor unmoving after it had passed, but when she eventually was able to muster the energy to push herself to a seated position and look over her shoulder at the bathroom clock, she saw that it was four in the morning.
With a weary sigh, Mairead spat a mouthful of foul-tasting liquid into the toilet, then flushed. Using the bathroom counter for leverage, she pulled herself to her feet. She turned on the tap, cupped her hands, and splashed her face with the cool water.
She rested her wet hands on the counter and looked up at herself in the mirror. Water dripped from her nose, chin, and the ends of her hair that surrounded her face. The skin surrounding her eyes was red and splotchy, but her face was otherwise so pale it was nearly green.
She felt a cold, wet nose nudge her hand and looked down to see Sherlock looking up at her and wagging his tail uncertainly. The sight of him made her grief lap at her again, but she lacked the energy to sustain another round of crying, so she feebly pushed it back down and eventually it subsided.
She patted her side with her hand and began shuffling back into her bedroom, Sherlock following happily after her, not a care in the world. Once inside, she opened her closet and pulled out clothing at random.
There was no way she was going to try to go back to sleep, so she might as well work.
In a way, the past two weeks had been easier for her. She had experienced no relief from her heartache, but at least now she had a purpose.
If Mairead wasn't at work or taking care of the house pets, she was at Grimmauld Place. She had read everything she could get her hands on regarding electronics, listening devices, Muggle spy technology, and recording equipment. She had frequented a nearby electronics store so often that the clerk - a tall, gangly teenager whose voice still hadn't finished changing - asked her if she had been coming by to work up the courage to ask him out.
She had not.
She and Arthur worked closely alongside one another during the evenings, weekends, and whenever he could get away from work. In Arthur, Mairead had found a kindred spirit, at least when it came to bald enthusiasm for the Muggle world. Together, they had worked up a prototype bug that they had begun to assemble. If it worked, Mairead had orders from Dumbledore to drop everything else she was working on to create as many as she possibly could.
When Arthur wasn't around, Mairead worked on the 'everything else,' which included brewing potions, tending to her rooftop garden, and helping with housecleaning.
Though the housecleaning seemed neverending, and Mairead's disability limited what she could do to help, she was far more pleased with how well her garden was coming along. It turned out that many more of the plants than Mairead had hoped for had turned out to be in a state of dormancy, and after several long days spent repotting, fertilizing, and cutting back areas of overgrowth, which had resulted in a horribly painful and itchy sunburn and a subsequent explosion of freckles, Mairead got more than a small bit of satisfaction from the growth she was seeing. Additionally, Professor Sprout had brought her some monkshood grown in the greenhouses of Hogwarts, which, when it matured and was ready for harvest, would make the monthly brewing of Wolfsbane Potion infinitely more sustainable.
Within the past two weeks, Mairead had managed to cook up a modest supply of Blood-Replenishing Potion, Skele-Gro, and a few different antidotes to poisons that, according to Moody, were favorites among The Dark Lord's inner circle.
She had not, however, been successful with her first two batches of Wolfsbane Potion, both of which she had asked Professor Snape to assess and both of which he had deemed to be useless. It was now far too late to make a batch for Professor Lupin, as it needed to be taken for the seven days leading up to the full moon and the full moon was now only two days away.
Mairead couldn't help but wonder if this failure on her part was the reason why Lupin had been so distant with her lately. She had thought that they were becoming quite close again. They had seamlessly fallen back into the rapport they had had at Hogwarts, and at first Lupin had seemed to have taken quite an interest in Mairead's and Arthur's work, frequently offering to help Mairead when Arthur was at the Ministry and even accompanying her on a few errands to pick up electronics and other supplies.
Mairead had secretly reveled in his company, had loved walking down London streets with him, looking over at him, admiring the way the sunlight hit his hair and shoulders and brought out the incredible swirls of color in his eyes, talking and smiling and laughing with him and feeling more functional and like herself than she ever did in her moments alone. She loved being by his side like she belonged there.
But recently he had pulled away. At first she had thought that his work for the Order was simply picking up, that he was being pulled away rather than pulling away himself. But then she noticed that even when he was around her he wasn't with her anymore. He still smiled at her and was perfectly pleasant, but he no longer teased her, no longer caught her eye across the room in a silent joke, no longer stood beside her to watch her work and ask her questions, no longer sought out the seat beside her at Order meetings. He no longer even corrected her when she called him Professor Lupin, which had led to her reverting back to formalities out of uncertainty.
Or maybe it was all in her head. Maybe he had never sought her out. Maybe it was a coincidence that for a while he had sat beside her at meals and meetings. Maybe he had grown tired of how many of his questions she had answered with, "I don't know." Or maybe, despite his repeated reassurances that this was not the case, he really was upset with her that she had failed to produce a usable Wolfsbane Potion. She didn't know.
All she knew was that she ached for missing him.
Mairead finished feeding the pets and walked Sherlock in the early morning light, then Disapparated and reappeared on the stoop of Grimmauld Place. She slipped inside silently, redid the locks, and crept to the potions lab where her textbooks were.
Pulling a book on ancient remedies off the shelf, Mairead settled into a chair and flipped to the section where she had left off - several long chapters devoted to methods for treating cursed stings, scratches, and bites. Mairead read about how, as recently as a hundred and fifty years ago, Healers would draw poisons and curses out of wounds using their own hands and arms as a vessel, and would then expel the curse into a magical fire to rid its victim of it. Mairead was intrigued by this way of doing things, as it did not appear to require the use of countercurses or other defensive magic. This method appeared to backfire as often as it worked, however, and many Healers had died as a result of exposure to the very same poison or curse they had sought to save their patients from.
Mairead turned the page and rotated the book sideways to look at a long chart of magical herbs and fungi that could be used to aid victims of cursed wounds. Reaching for a quill and a bit of parchment, Mairead began scrawling the names of plants she would ask Professor Sprout for clippings of when she next saw her.
I really don't know if that Dittany plant upstairs is going to make it, she mused. I should just ask for another pot of it, just in case. Can never have too much Dittany...
Mairead curled her legs under her and leaned her head against the side of the chair. It certainly felt good to have a purpose. Purpose would help her counteract the evil she could feel creeping back into the world from all sides. Purpose would help her prove her worth to the other Order members.
And purpose could cover all manner of suffering.
Mairead sat in the stands on the fine, June night, chatting amiably with Mrs. Diggory about the Diggorys' home - a place Mairead had never seen because the woman she was now sitting next to, smiling politely at and fake laughing at the appropriate moments, hadn't deemed her good enough.
She opened her mouth to ask a question when a silence fell across the stadium. Mairead turned her head and looked in the direction everyone else was, and saw the tall, burly blonde man whose name she could not remember point his wand at his throat to magically magnify the sound of his voice.
"Ladies and gentlemen," his voice boomed, "the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! May I present to you, your champions! Representing Hogwarts School, Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter!" He was briefly interrupted by the thunderous applause that split the peace of the evening. "Representing Durmstrang Institute, Mr. Viktor Krum!" While the crowd was applauding, Mairead noticed a group of cloaked wizards assembling behind the announcer and the four champions. "And last, but certainly not least, representing Beauxbatons Academy, Miss Fleur Delacour!" Mairead's hands froze mid-clap as she looked at the cloaked figured and saw the masks glinting in the fading daylight.
"No," she whispered to herself. She stood up, gulped in a lungful of air, and screamed "NO!" but no sound came out. She was voiceless, powerless in a crowd of deafening fans who had just come here to see a show.
"And now, since Mr. Diggory and Mr. Potter are tied for first place, they will face their challenge shoulder-to-shoulder," announced the nameless blonde man. "Mr. Diggory, Mr. Potter, if you please."
Mairead watched as Cedric and Harry stepped forward, wands in their hands. The other champions stepped back, along with the announcer, as the group of shrouded figures advanced as one.
Mairead jumped to her feet and began struggling to get out of the stands, but it was as though someone had tied weights to her ankles. She could barely move her feet and had to struggle and swing her hips widely to force one leg in front of the other. She tried to use her hands as leverage, but her fingers kept getting caught in people's hair and jewelry.
The announcer was speaking again. "One my whistle - three - two -"
Mairead tried to scream again, but she was as silent as before. She threw all of her efforts into moving but all she managed to do was to reach the end of the bleachers by the time the man's whistle cut through the night air.
Mairead stood, transfixed in horror, as Cedric and Harry raised their wands while simultaneously, more than two dozen Death Eaters raised theirs as well.
Blinding green light filled the air, forcing Mairead to squeeze her eyes shut.
When she opened them, Cedric was on the ground, staring up at the stars, eyes lifeless, and Harry was kneeling, one hand clutched around Cedric's wrist, the other around the Triwizard Cup.
The blonde man turned to the crowd and held out both arms, face jubilant.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I believe we have the winner of the Triwizard Tournament - Mr. Harry Potter!"
The crowd exploded into applause.
Mairead's eyes snapped open. Her gaze focused on the lines in the dark wood of the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place. She sat upright, unfolding her arms from where she had used them to cushion her head. She felt something move on her back and jumped about a foot in the air. She twisted around and looked into the intense blue eyes of Sirius, who was leaning over her.
She gasped for air and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, wiping off the thin layer of cold sweat that had formed there.
"Sirius," she said hoarsely. "Sorry."
Sirius was frowning at her, looking concerned. "You okay, Gryffindor?" he asked her in a low voice, his hand still bracing her back.
Mairead took deep breaths to calm her racing heart and nodded. "Yeah," she said, clearing her throat and swallowing. "Sorry. I was just closing my eyes for a minute."
Based on the look on Sirius's face, he didn't buy that she was merely dozing. Mairead wondered with a prick of anxiety how vocal she was when she had these nightmares. To her immense relief, though, Sirius merely nodded and slid his hand off her back. He pulled out the chair next to her and sat down beside her.
"So, that's it, is it?" he asked. He nodded at the miniscule device in front of Mairead.
Mairead suddenly felt awash with gratitude for Sirius. He didn't pry, the way Professor Sprout kept trying to whenever she saw her, and he didn't take every opportunity to shove a plateful of food into her hands the way Molly Weasley did. He simply sat beside her and stayed with her.
Despite the way he was constantly teasing and flirting with her to try to get a rise out of her, Mairead felt respected by Sirius in a way she never had by anyone before. He very clearly saw her boundaries and never once crossed them. He never asked her if she was sure she knew what she was doing with her projects the way she was constantly being asked during Order meetings, he honored her "back off" signals, never once asked her if she was "sure" she was okay, and he never hovered over her, but rather trusted that if she needed help she would ask for it. As bizarre as it was, in the short span of a month, Azkaban escapee, wrongly accused felon, and rightly accused stabber Sirius Black had become one of Mairead's closest friends.
Shaking herself from her thoughts, Mairead tucked her hair behind her ears and nodded. "Yep," she said. "Arthur and I finished it last night. When he gets back tonight we're going to try it out. See if we can get it to work."
"Well, he should be back soon," said Sirius, arching his neck backwards to look at the clock behind his chair. Mairead took a moment to look appreciatively at the graceful line of Sirius's throat, then followed his upside-down gaze to the clock.
"Fuck me briefly, is that the time?!" she exclaimed. She had only intended to close her eyes for five minutes, but had slept for nearly an hour.
Sirius's rich, baritone laugh rang out. "You know, it always surprises me to hear the tongue on you," he said, grinning at her. "Didn't you live at St. Hedwig's?"
Mairead cocked her head to one side. "How did you know that?" she asked curiously.
"Remus told me," Sirius said with a shrug. "Where the hell did you learn to curse like that?"
"Oh," said Mairead quietly at the sound of Lupin's name. "How is he doing, by the way?"
Sirius scowled. "Well, the full moon is tonight and Dumbledore denied my request to go be with him, so he's probably gearing up for a night of agony and self-destruction."
Mairead swallowed thickly and blinked at her burning eyes. "I'm so sorry I couldn't get the potion right!" she burst out. "I did my best, I'm just rusty and - I'll get it for next month, I promise!"
"Hey, no one's mad at you," said Sirius. "Remus has made it this far without the Wolfsbane. He can make it another month."
"I tried so hard," Mairead said, aware that her voice was beginning to sound croaky. "But I failed him both times and now he's -" she broke off before she could embarrass herself further.
Tears had been so close to the surface lately. She knew that her emotions were only partly because of Lupin, and logically she also knew that he was far too understanding and reasonable to be upset with her over a failed attempt at a massively complex potion, but lately she had been feeling so down and hopeless that every tiny setback felt like an insurmountable sign of her uselessness.
Sirius watched her twist her hands in silence for a few moments before he said, "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"
Mairead automatically shook her head. She blinked several times, then smiled brightly up at him. "Nah, I'm grand, but thanks."
Once again, Sirius looked utterly unconvinced. But he shrugged, pushed his chair back on two legs, and said, "All right, then."
Strangely, his acquiescence made her want to open up to him.
Choosing the less fraught subject, Mairead meekly asked, "It's just... d'you know... if he's, like, mad at me, or something?"
"Who, Remus?" Sirius asked, bringing his chair back down onto all four legs. She nodded.
"He's - it's just... he - well..." Mairead couldn't figure out how to say what she wanted to say without sounding like she was completely obsessed with Sirius's best friend.
Which she was. But that was beside the point.
"Eh, he always gets funny around the full moon," said Sirius, waving a hand nonchalantly. "He says the wolf gets pulled closer to the surface, makes him short-tempered, impatient. Why, did he bite your head off about something?"
"No," said Mairead, shaking her head. "It's just... it kind of feels like he's been avoiding me. I know that must sound really stupid," she said hastily. "I mean, I'm obviously not important enough for him to avoid me or whatever. I'm probably just imagining things -" Sirius cut her off mid-babble, for which she was also grateful.
"Nah, you're not imagining things," he said. Then, looking at her shrewdly, he added, "And you are definitely important enough to him that he might avoid you."
Mairead wasn't sure whether that should make her feel good or bad, so she just nodded and quietly said, "Oh, okay."
"Take it as a compliment," he said. "A bizarre, twisted, kind of fucked up Moony compliment. He probably doesn't want to say something off-color in front of you. He likes you too much."
Mairead's heart gave such a leap that it actually set off a coughing fit. Sirius thumped her on the back, grinning now.
"You like him too, don't you?"
Mairead looked away, then worried this would make her look guilty, so she looked back at him. "He's really nice," she hedged.
Sirius's skeptical look was back, this time with a raised eyebrow. Mairead tried not to drop his gaze or shift guiltily in her seat. Finally he shrugged and said, "Just give it time, Gryffindor. He'll be back. He won't be able to resist that charm of yours."
Mairead felt her face grow warm. A change of subject was desperately needed.
"Why do you keep calling me that?" she asked. "You do know I was in Hufflepuff, don't you?"
Sirius smirked. "Yeah, well, the Sorting Hat's been known to make mistakes," he said. "You're too great not to be a Gryffindor."
Mairead's upper lip twitched in annoyance. "And you think too highly of yourself not to be a Gryffindor," she said scathingly.
Sirius laughed again, grinning doggishly at her. "I just call 'em like I see 'em, Gryffindor."
Mairead couldn't help but laugh. She opened her mouth to say something snotty, but was interrupted by the door opening.
"Oh, good, you're awake," Hermione said, walking in with Ginny.
"We're starving and wanted to grab something to eat before you and Dad cordon off the kitchen again," added Ginny.
"Sorry about that," Mairead moaned.
She hated all the secrecy around the Order's work. She was rather guileless by nature and had always believed that more information was better than less, and so she felt heavily guilty and uncomfortable with the gag order that had been placed on them regarding talk about the Order. She and Sirius had been two of the members who had argued most vociferously against keeping secrets from the teenagers living in the house. But Dumbledore had stood firm that information could be dangerous, and that it was for the safety of the Weasley children and Hermione that he insisted on silence.
Ginny shrugged unconcernedly. "Oh, but Mum wanted me to ask you how long it's going to be 'til the doxy venom antidote is ready," she said. "She's anxious to get started on the drawing room."
"Fuck, I haven't even started it," Mairead muttered, rubbing a hand wearily over her face. She sighed. "Shit."
"Would you like some help with it?" Hermione offered. "You look a little worn down."
"Thanks, but I'm grand," Mairead said, forcing a smile. "I just feel bad that I forgot."
"Don't worry about it," Ginny said in a muffled voice as she spoke through a mouthful of peanut butter and honey sandwich. "I'll tell her one of the ingredients is backordered."
Mairead's eyebrows went up. "You shouldn't lie to her!" she said. "Not for me, anyway."
Beside her, Sirius snorted. "You know, maybe you are a Hufflepuff," he said. "Or maybe it's the St. Hedwig's thing. You do know that lying isn't going to open up a mouth directly to hell, don't you?"
Mairead rolled her eyes at him. "I don't believe in hell," she said with dignity.
Just then, a loud crash! sounded overhead, sending clouds of dust falling from the exposed beams in the ceiling. Ginny and Hermione both held a hand over their sandwiches to shield them from the falling particles. Not a moment later, shrieks and wails could be heard from a distance.
A dark look replaced the teasing glint that had been in Sirius's eyes. "Oh, hell is real, all right," he growled as he got to his feet and made for the door. "You're in it."
Mairead's mouth twitched sympathetically as Sirius pulled the door shut behind him rather harder than was strictly necessary. She also strafed against Dumbledore's insistence that Sirius remain confined to the house. She knew it was for his own safety, just like all the cloak and dagger was for the safety of the students, but she personally couldn't see the harm in Sirius joining Lupin tonight. Wherever Lupin was going to transform must, by necessity, be completely devoid of all human lifeforms. What could be the matter with Sirius joining him in a place so remote?
Ginny had also watched Sirius's retreat, but with rather something else on her mind.
"Sweet Merlin, that man is hot," she declared as she sat down in his vacated chair.
Hermione giggled. "I suppose he is, isn't he?" she agreed, cheeks flushed a bright pink.
And Sirius was hot. He was a far cry from the wasted, waxy, filthy figure Mairead had encountered in a dim corridor two years earlier. Since then he had put on weight, returned his yellowed teeth to what Mairead imagined was their original pristine state, and gotten a good deal of sunlight, which had given his skin a healthy, brown glow. His hair was a little on the long side for Mairead's tastes, but the way he kept it tied back with an elastic lent him something of a rakish pirate look. Add to that his searing blue eyes, precisely the right amount of stubble, his impressively seductive smile, and his tall, dark, and handsome thing, and Mairead had to admit that he was undeniably sexy as hell.
"I can't believe you rebuffed him when he proposed to you," Hermione said, shaking her head and taking a dainty bite out of her own sandwich.
"Huh?" Mairead asked, confused.
"You know, when he asked you to marry him and you told him to quit harassing you?" Hermione reminded her. "Not to say that I'm not a feminist - I am, but -" Hermione was cut off abruptly by Ginny elbowing her in the stomach and glaring at her. Hermione's eyes went wide and panicked. "Oh, er, Tonks told me about it," she added.
It was Mairead's turn to be entirely unconvinced. "Uh-huh," she said.
If the girls were looking for an excuse to make a quick exit, it came in the form of Arthur and Molly.
"- poor girl just can't seem to keep her feet under her," Molly was saying to Arthur, who nodded sympathetically while loosening his tie.
"Ooh, is Tonks here?" asked Ginny eagerly.
"She is," confirmed Molly.
Hermione and Ginny left the kitchen in search of Tonks, and Arthur sat down beside Mairead.
"Ready to fire this thing up?" he asked, sounding like he was trying his best to stay calm but was secretly thrumming with anticipation.
"Yep," said Mairead. "So, here's the transmitter. We should put that somewhere else in the house to test the range."
"Let's make sure everything works first," suggested Arthur.
The two began fiddling with the devices. Mairead plugged a pair of speakers into the receiver, then gave Arthur the thumbs up. He switched on the transmitter as Mairead turned on the receiver.
Nothing happened.
"Er - t-try saying something into the transmitter?" Mairead suggested.
Arthur held the microphone up to his mouth and said, "Can you hear me?"
Mairead shook her head.
Arthur folded his arms and looked thoughtfully at the devices. "Hmm."
Mairead sighed. "Okay," she said. "Basic troubleshooting. Let's make sure we put it together correctly."
She and Arthur began meticulously going over both devices, piece by miniature piece, but everything appeared to be in place. They tested it again, and still got nothing.
"It's powered by magic," muttered Mairead, peering at the transmitter. "So it can't be a dead battery..."
"Could the magic have overloaded the circuit board?" asked Arthur.
"Maybe," said Mairead. "Let's try hooking it up to a battery."
But hooking it up to a battery did nothing, not even when they also hooked the receiver up to a different battery.
By now, Sirius and Tonks had joined them. Tonks, it seemed, had come back to Grimmauld Place with Arthur in anticipation of seeing the listening device work.
"Maybe they're too close together?" Tonks suggested. "I mean, they're supposed to work from a distance, right?"
Arthur and Mairead looked at each other.
"Can't hurt to try it," said Mairead.
"I'll go put the transmitter someplace," Sirius offered, reaching out a hand for it.
"You'll need to provide sound, wherever you go," said Arthur. "Otherwise we won't know if it's working or not."
"I'll put it in the drawing room," said Sirius. "There's a radio in there."
Mairead, Arthur, and Tonks waited anxiously while Sirius was gone. Mairead fiddled with a few wires, examining her soldering job, but they all held firm. When Sirius returned, they tried it again.
Still nothing.
Molly asked Arthur and Mairead to take a break so that she could serve dinner. While Arthur and Mairead were clearing up their things to make room on the table, Mairead leaned in close to Arthur.
"Oh, hey, by the way," she muttered in a low voice, "do with this information what you will, but is it possible that your kids are listening in on the Order meetings?"
Arthur looked sharply at her. "What gives you that impression?" he asked.
"Hermione made a passing comment about an exchange between Sirius and me that I'm pretty sure happened in an Order meeting," Mairead admitted. Arthur closed his eyes and sighed wearily. Mairead held up her hands. "Hey - like I said: do with this what you will. I don't like all the secrecy stuff, but they're not my kids so it's not my decision."
Arthur took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I suppose I'd better tell Molly," he said resignedly. He looked from the devices in their hands over to his wife, then back again. "Tomorrow," he added.
They had a hasty dinner, and afterwards Molly ushered Fred, George, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny out of the room so that they could continue to work on the bugs.
Hours went by and they still hadn't managed it. Mairead had even gone so far as to craft a second transmitter and hook it up to the receiver. When that did nothing, Tonks suggested they take a break and all have a cup of tea.
Mairead didn't really feel like tea and biscuits, but she looked over at the clock and saw that it was coming on midnight. She would need caffeine if she was going to stay up and solve this.
Once the tea things were cleared, the five adults got back to work. Molly took a turn reading off the various charts and schematics they had procured while Mairead and Arthur confirmed that they had hooked everything up correctly for the seventh time. Sirius spread out spare parts leftover from building the listening devices and cast simple spells around them, and then Mairead tested each component with a multimeter to see if they had stopped working.
Tonks asked if she could examine the devices. Arthur waved an exhausted hand at her. "Be my guest."
She picked up the larger of the two devices - the receiver - and turned it over in her hands.
"Explain to me what each of the parts does," she said. "Maybe there's something really obvious that's missing."
Mairead scrubbed her face with her hands as she began naming the pieces that Tonks pointed to.
"And what's this?" asked Tonks.
Mairead leaned over to see the small slider that Tonks's finger rested on.
"That's the volume control," she said.
"What's the dash and the plus sign mean?" asked Tonks.
"The dash means quieter and the plus means louder," Mairead said through a yawn, resting her face in her hands.
"Huh." Tonks held the receiver closer to her face. "Is the thingy supposed to be pushed all the way to quieter?"
Mairead's hands slipped from her face.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" she said.
She snatched the receiver from Tonks and looked at it.
"Jesus Fucking Christ," she muttered.
Then, she pushed the slider up.
A horrible, shrieking, squealing filled the air.
The five adults around the table all flinched and covered their ears with their hands.
Hastily, Mairead turned the slider back down.
"What the hell was that?" asked Tonks.
Arthur reached for one of the textbooks. "I - I think that might have been feedback," he said wondrously.
"The devices are too close together," said Mairead. Turning to Sirius, she said, "Can you please take this back to the room with the radio?" She held out the transmitter.
Sirius leapt to his feet and dashed out of the room. When he returned, Mairead once again pushed the slider up the receiver.
Music filled the room.
Mairead's mouth fell open. Arthur took off his glasses and stared at the speakers. Molly put her hands over her mouth. Tonks and Sirius both grinned like fools.
Then, Arthur began to hoot. All fatigue forgotten, he pulled Molly to her feet and began dancing her around the room to the strains of music floating from the speakers. Molly giggled like a teenager as she spun around in her husband's arms. Mairead laughed with Tonks and Sirius, cheering the couple on.
Mairead couldn't believe it. It had worked. She and Arthur had gotten it to work. It had taken them weeks of nonstop effort, but they had finally gotten a leg up on the Death Eaters. Mairead couldn't stop smiling. She wondered what Remus would say. She watched in a haze of happiness as Sirius took out his wand and conjured a Patronus to send to Dumbledore. She could hardly wait to tell the Headmaster that she had succeeded at the first big task he had set for her.
The song changed. Arthur and Molly continued to dance, and Tonks and Sirius also grasped each other and began twirling around the room gleefully.
On a magical night like this
Just being in your arms is bliss
Don't know what you've incanted
Just know that you've enchanted me
Mairead sat frozen in her chair. Shock overcame her victory and snuffed out her happiness like a candle.
The song playing had been Cedric's favorite. She remembered him singing it as they had walked to Hogsmeade one evening at the end of her Sixth Year. That was the night she had taken the photo that was used at his funeral.
At first, her grief trickled over the back of her neck like something wet. Then it wrapped itself around her shoulders and twined its fingers through her hair. Picking up speed as it gathered ground, it swept over her shoulders and froze her heart until it had enveloped her entirely.
She had to get out of here.
Mairead slipped out of the room and dashed up the stairs. She moved as noiselessly as she could through the foyer, then took the stairs two at a time, up five flights of stairs to the top floor. She bolted along the corridor until she reached the door at the back. Flinging it open, she ignored the rope banister and simply held onto the stairs above her for balance as she stumbled up the steps. She tripped over her own feet as she ran across the attic, then wrenched open the protesting door and fled onto the rooftop garden.
She couldn't have been quiet if she had tried. She sobbed broken-heartedly, clinging to the wall surrounding the edge of the roof. Her cries wracked her whole body, her keening so loud she did not hear the door squealing as it once again swung on its hinges.
"Mairead?" Sirius's voice called.
Mairead gasped, then rapidly began swiping at her face, trying to remove the tears.
She cleared her throat, then said, "Yeah?" as steadily as she could.
"Dumbledore is going to be here soon," he said softly.
"Oh, okay," Mairead said, pushing her hair out of her face and continuing to wipe her eyes. "Thanks - I'll be right down."
There was a silence, and for a second Mairead thought that Sirius had left. Then she heard him say, "Do you want to be alone, or do you want to be not alone?"
Mairead pressed a hand to her mouth. "Erm..." she said shakily before she once again lost the battle against her tears.
She felt a hand brush across her back and she hid her face in her hands as she began helplessly weeping once more. Sirius sighed softly and pulled her into his arms. He put one arm around her back and rested the other on her head.
"I know," he said, more gently than she had ever heard him speak before.
Mairead sucked in a lungful of air, then began struggling against the embrace.
"I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine," she chanted as she pulled back from Sirius. He released her but kept his hands on her arms, stroking her shoulders with his thumbs. She sniffled loudly and coughed once. "I'm just tired," she insisted. "I just needed a little air. That's all."
"Okay," said Sirius. "No problem."
Mairead pressed the back of her hand to her nose, trying to stem her streaming nostrils. Sirius handed her a handkerchief and she gratefully took it and pinched her nose with it. He watched her silently while she cleaned her face up.
"Thanks," she said hoarsely when she felt a little more put together. "I'll launder this and get it back to you."
"Don't," said Sirius. "It's Remus's anyway."
Mairead laughed thickly. "I guess that kind of makes more sense," she said.
Sirius chuckled. "Yeah, he never leaves home without his emergency damsel-comforting kit."
Mairead laughed again, her voice unnaturally low.
There was a long silence, during which Mairead avoided Sirius's eyes, which she could feel were on her, then he said, "Do you want to talk about it?"
The kindness in his voice was enough to send Mairead spiraling back into another crying fit. Sirius pulled her back into his arms and let her cry.
"It's just -" she said in a broken voice, "It's so stupid - but - the song that came on -" she broke off and waited out another wave of sobs. "It was his favorite."
She pulled away again and resumed mopping her face with the handkerchief. "I know that's so dumb," she said in a gravelly voice.
"No, it isn't dumb," Sirius said.
Mairead cleared her throat once again and forced a pained smile onto her face. "I'm sorry," she said. "Everyone keeps saying it gets better. I'm just tired. I know it gets better."
"No, it doesn't."
Mairead looked up into Sirius's eyes, startled.
"Losing your best friend? That doesn't get better," he said. "It gets easier. But it doesn't ever get better."
Mairead considered his words for a moment, then said quietly, "James?"
"Remus told you about him?"
Mairead nodded.
Sirius thought for a few moments. "When you lose someone that close to you - someone who means that much to you - it's like your chest has been ripped open," he said. "It's like someone's ripped open your chest and shoved this giant... thing inside of your torso. And you're bleeding and it hurts like a motherfucker and you can't... you can't do anything without it hurting. You can't breathe because it's in the way of your lungs and your heart can't beat without bumping up against it and it's flattened your stomach so you don't want to eat and you can't sleep. It affects everything." He barked out a short laugh. "And the cruelest part? Is that the one person you'd normally turn to in moments like that... is the person you'll never get to speak to again."
Mairead watched him in silence as he turned and looked out over the rooftops before continuing. "And it's just... like that. For a long time. Everything you do hurts. Every fucking thing reminds you of what you had, and how it's just... gone. Forever. Never gonna see it again. And you just - you have no fucking idea how you can reasonably be expected to live out the rest of your life without them."
He took a deep breath. "And... it doesn't get better. It never goes away. That foreign object just stays in your chest cavity with all your other organs. Forever. It's something you're going to have to carry around with you for the rest of your life. But... you get used to it. Gradually, it's like your other organs shift and budge up and make room for the grief. It's not that the grief gets lighter; it's that you get stronger. You learn how to carry it. And it gets so that not every little thing hurts anymore. Granted, there are still times when something - sometimes it makes sense, and sometimes it's totally random: you roll over in bed and you think for a second you're back at school, or your eye catches on a head of hair in a crowd, or you smell something that takes you back - and it just rams you. And it hurts just as badly as it did when it was brand new. But it doesn't happen as often, and the pain becomes... familiar, somehow. You become accustomed to your cycle."
Sirius fell silent then, and Mairead watched his face as he looked out upon London. Eventually he blinked and came out of his reverie.
"So, yeah," he concluded. "It gets easier."
Mairead considered him for a few moments, then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. She tightened her arms around him and leaned into him, hoping to imbue him with all of the gratitude and affection she was feeling for him. She hoped she could bring him comfort the way his words had comforted her. She heard Sirius chuckle.
"You know, for an Irish lass, you sure give a good cwtch," he said.
Mairead frowned. "What the fuck is a cwtch?" she asked.
"Honestly I've no idea. It's what Remus calls that kind of a hug. It's a Welsh thing." He paused, then murmured, "You'd be so good for him if he just let you."
Mairead looked up at him. "Who?"
Sirius shook his head. "No one," he said. "Let's get downstairs. Dumbledore is probably waiting."
Mairead pulled away from Sirius, tucked her hair behind her ears, and pinched her cheeks. "Do I show it?" she asked him anxiously.
Sirius smiled crookedly at her. "Nah," he said. "You're grand."
Mairead felt her mouth tug upwards at his teasing. As they walked back across the rooftop, she purposely bumped into him. "Jerk," she mumbled.
Sirius barked out a laugh and threw his arm around her shoulders. "God, I like you."
Mairead smiled. "I like you, too."
Remus stumbled as he trudged up the steps to number twelve. It had been a rough night. He had fresh scratches and bites all over his body and his throat was raw from screaming. When he got inside, he did the locks back up, and it took him a few tries to secure his wand in his belt before he turned and shuffled for the kitchen.
When he pushed open the door to the kitchen, he saw Sirius sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee. Sirius was not a morning person, so Remus knew that he had gotten up to see that he got back safely. Remus offered his best friend a weary smile as he headed for the basin to pour himself a drink of water.
He downed two glasses of water, then poured himself a third to sip. He dropped into a chair, then looked down at the strange gadgets on the table.
"Any luck?" he asked Sirius. His voice came out as a pained rasp.
Sirius nodded. "They got it working," he said. "Up until midnight troubleshooting it, but it's working now. Dumbledore was here until two testing it out against the strongest magic he could throw at it, and it still worked."
Remus frowned. "You didn't have to get up for me, you know," he said guiltily. "You must be tired."
Sirius snorted. "You're one to talk."
Remus twitched his eyebrows by way of response. "I suppose Mairead will be over soon building more," he said, trying to keep the hopefulness out of his voice.
"Nope," Sirius said. "Dumbledore told her to take the day off to rest. Good thing, too. She looked about done in."
Disappointment flooded Remus. "Oh," was all he said.
He had been existing in this strange limbo around Mairead ever since he had decided he needed to stay away from her. He had been successful at avoiding her - so successful that she seemed to have gotten the hint that he didn't want her around and was now doing most of the work for him. But once she had started keeping her distance from him, Remus had felt compelled to pull her back to him. It was as though he needed her exactly at arms' length - far enough away that he couldn't hurt her, but close enough that he could still... still what? Protect her? His attempts at that had already backfired spectacularly. Make sure she didn't need him? She was clearly doing just fine on her own. He was too tired to parse this out yet again.
He smiled again at Sirius. "Well, I think I'm going to head off to -"
"How long are you going to keep this up, Moony?" Sirius cut him off.
Remus kept his face carefully impassive. "Keep what up?" he asked.
Sirius gave him a look that said he knew that Remus knew perfectly well what he was talking about. "How long have you been in love with her?" he asked.
"What?!" Remus yelped in a shocked tone.
And he was shocked. He was not in love with Mairead! That was preposterous. He was not in love with her. He was just fond of her. The longer time had gone on, the more Remus had become convinced that the wolf was entirely to blame for his mild problem. His conviction only grew stronger as he became more and more starved for contact with Mairead the closer the full moon got. As soon as the full moon came and went, whatever problem the wolf had with her would pass and things could go back to the way they were.
Sirius looked at him shrewdly. "I can't tell if you're being an idiot or if you just think I'm one."
Remus sighed in exhaustion. "Padfoot, I really don't have the energy for whatever it is you're doing right now," he said. "Can you just leave off, please?"
"Oh, come on, Moony," Sirius snapped impatiently. "You're attracted to her and you know it."
Remus went very still. This was exactly what he had been afraid of. That Sirius would notice the extremely mild, definitely temporary problem he was having and try to make something massive out of it. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said flatly.
Sirius ever-so-slightly cocked his head to one side. "Oh? Then why have you been avoiding her?"
Remus scoffed. "I haven't been -"
"You have, fucking too, Remus."
Remus arched an eyebrow. "Perhaps you're projecting, Sirius," he said. "You seem to be a lot more preoccupied with Mairead than I am. You've certainly been flirting with her enough."
"Answer the question, Moony," Sirius said, not budging. "Why have you been avoiding her?"
"I did answer the question," said Remus patiently. "I have not been avoiding her. I've been busy. She's been busy. Our paths haven't crossed."
"Your paths managed to cross just fine up until recently," Sirius said. "The two of you were always together. You spent every waking moment with her. You took every opportunity possible to be around her. You were joined at the hip - although maybe not exactly the way you'd want to be joined at the hip with her -"
"Oh, for the love of Godric, Padfoot!" Remus cried out in protest, but Sirius talked right over his indignation.
"Your paths crossed far more than average right up until the moon started to wax and your inhibitions started going down."
Remus huffed out a breath. "If your theory were correct, don't you think the lowering of my inhibitions would lead to my crossing paths with Mairead a lot more frequently?"
"Not if you're afraid of your feelings for her," Sirius said.
Remus scoffed again. "This - this is ridiculous," he said. "I'm not going to engage with you while you're -"
"She's noticed it too, you know."
Remus froze. "Noticed what?" he said in a carefully neutral tone.
"That you've been avoiding her. She thinks you're angry with her. Thinks you're pissed because she fucked up the Wolfsbane Potion."
Remus's relief that Mairead hadn't noticed his problem was quickly overshadowed by a wave of guilt. "I'm not angry with her," he said softly, the way he would have if she were there. "Oh, God, no! That's not it at all!"
"Then what is it?" Sirius pushed. "She's hurting right now, Remus. Have you even noticed? She's being pummeled by grief and she's burning the candle at both ends and she's exhausted - I came in here yesterday evening and found her passed out at the table. And I've got to tell you, whatever nightmare she was having, it was fucked up. And you pick now as a good time to drop her?"
Remus stared into his water glass, burning with shame. "I..." he said in a hushed tone. "I haven't dropped her, I just -"
"You just realized you want her and it scared the shit out of you and you ran."
Remus's breath was becoming short. That wasn't true. Not at all. It couldn't be. He did not want Mairead. He couldn't want Mairead. She was his student. She was young, she was sweet, she was perfect. There was no way he could want to taint her that way.
Sirius spoke again, more earnestly now. "How long have we known each other? I have never seen you look at another woman the way you look at her."
Remus's brows came together in a stubborn frown. "Oh?" he said, looking up at Sirius defiantly. "And just how do I look at her?"
"Like..." Sirius searched for the words. "Like she's cwtch."
Remus blinked at him. "'Cwtch'?" he repeated. "A cwtch is a hug, Sirius."
Sirius laughed dismissively. "Not to hear your mum tell it," he said. "A cwtch is more than that."
Remus's mouth thinned at the mention of his mother. "A cwtch isn't sexual in nature, Sirius," he said. "Do you even know what it means?"
"I know what it means!" snapped Sirius impatiently. "You look at her like she's warmth. Like she's safety. You look at her like she's home."
Remus opened his mouth to retort but found he had no reply. He looked at the table, trying to find a way to deny what Sirius was saying. He felt as though Sirius's words had reduced him to the consistency of porridge.
"She would be so good for you, Moony," Sirius said. "The two of you would be so fucking good for each other."
Remus felt himself harden back up. "I'm no good for anyone," he said darkly. "Least of all her."
Sirius sighed. "Moony," he supplicated. "Remus -"
"She's had enough monsters in her life," said Remus with finality. "I will not be one more." He pushed his chair back and stood. "I'm going to bed."
With a wave of his hand, his glass went soaring across the room and landed carefully in the basin with a gentle clink.
Remus took deep, calming breaths and tried to clear his mind as he climbed the stairs to his third floor bedroom. What he needed was sleep. He could hardly be expected to think or have complex conversations after the night he had had. He was always useless the day after the full moon. Sirius should have known that. In fact, he probably did know that, and that was why he had decided to ambush Remus with this conversation when he did.
Remus pushed his anger down. It was probably just a residual emotion from the wolf; when he awoke he would be himself again. Remus closed his door and eyed his bed longingly, looking forward to quiet, peaceful slumber.
He had only taken two steps towards his bed, however, when noise exploded from the twins' bedroom next door.
"EXTENDABLE WHATS?!"
Remus stared at the wall separating his bedroom from Fred and George's. He could hear the twins making hasty excuses over some invention of theirs. Molly wasn't having any of it.
"I TOLD YOU THAT YOU WERE NOT ALLOWED TO LISTEN IN ON ORDER MEETINGS! THOSE ORDERS COME FROM DUMBLEDORE!"
"But, Mum -"
"NO BUTS! YOUR PIGHEADED CHOICES AFFECTED NOT ONLY YOURSELVES BUT YOUR YOUNGER BROTHER AND SISTER, TOO! NOT TO MENTION I'M ALSO RESPONSIBLE FOR HERMIONE WHILE SHE'S HERE. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO EXPLAIN TO HER PARENTS -"
Remus sighed in disbelief and chagrin. All he wanted was to get some bloody sleep. He was used to the bangs and whistles constantly coming from Fred and George's room, but this was going to be impossible to sleep through.
Already in a foul mood from his conversation with Sirius, Remus let out a snarl, whirled around, and left his room.
He walked silently but swiftly down the stairs and out the door onto the waking city street. Looking around, he saw that no one was watching before he turned on the spot.
He hadn't realized where he was Apparating to until he rematerialized next to the rhododendron bush he had landed in the last time he was here.
He didn't think about what it meant that he had come here. His mind was blind determination as he walked up to her door and knocked. He simply was too tired to grapple with the enormous sense of relief he felt when the door opened and Mairead stood before him.
"Professor Lupin!" she exclaimed, looking surprised.
"Hi - hello," he said, suddenly acutely aware of how bizarre she would probably find it that he had shown up out of nowhere and uninvited.
She blinked. "C-come in," she said, standing back and holding the door open.
"I hope I'm not interrupting you," he said as he walked into the entrance hall. Unavoidably, his eyes strayed to the place where he had pinned Mairead's body to the wall beneath his hand the last time he had been here.
"No, not at all," she said, closing the door behind him. "I was just watching a film."
She turned and looked up at him, and then her mouth fell open in dismay. "Oh, my God, you're hurt!" she cried.
It was then that Remus remembered the painful scratch running from his forehead down his cheek and to his jawline.
"Oh, it's nothing," he rushed to reassure her, but she wasn't listening.
"Come in here and let me take a look at it," she said, hastening down the hallway.
"Mairead - no, you don't have to," he said, hurrying after her.
She turned back around, wringing her hands. "I don't have any Essence of Dittany," she said, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. Then, she started back in the direction of the door. "We should go to headquarters. I have some there."
"Mairead, stop," Remus said firmly. Mairead paused, looking startled by his authoritative tone. "I don't want to go to headquarters," he said more gently. "I'll be fine. It'll heal up on its own."
Mairead pulled her bottom lip back in between her teeth. "Can I at least clean it out with soap and water?" she negotiated. "There's dirt in it."
Remus sighed. "Fine," he relented.
She nodded her head in a direction behind him and to his right. "Why don't you have a seat?" she suggested. "I'll be right back."
Remus went where Mairead indicated and found himself in a sunny and airy sitting room. He sat down on the couch. The television was on, and he recalled Mairead saying that she had been watching a film when he arrived. The black-and-white image was paused on the screen of the television set - an actor Remus recognized as a famous old Hollywood actor was bent at the waist talking to a short, plump older woman.
Mairead entered the room then, clutching a cloth that was dripping. She sat down on the couch next to Remus.
"It's just soap and warm water," she said, holding the cloth up to ask permission.
Remus nodded.
Mairead leaned closer and gingerly touched the cloth to his forehead. She was once again gnawing on her lip in concentration as she gently dabbed at the wound. She was close enough that Remus could see the ring of darker green that surrounded the outsides of her irises. He swallowed thickly. Her sweet scent reached his nose and he tried not to be too obvious about breathing it in. He looked at the way her freckles lay across her nose and cheekbones. From this close, he could see fainter freckles dusting her forehead, cheeks, and chin as well.
He startled when he felt her fingers brush his jaw.
"Sorry," she murmured, and he saw pink stain her cheeks. "Can you please turn your head a bit?"
He followed the pressure of her fingers and turned his head a little to one side, bringing him face to face with a closeup of her hair. The sunlight streaming in through the high windows caught in her curls and he stared at them, entranced by the individual strands of red, gold, and brown that combined to make her copper hair color.
She is so desperately lovely, he thought.
All of a sudden, Remus became uncomfortably aware of how close she was. Much too close. Her lips were too close to his lips and her body too close to his body. One of her breasts was ever-so-slightly brushing against his arm as she worked and it was just far too much for Remus to handle right now.
He jerked away.
Her bright, beautiful eyes widened. "I'm sorry, does it hurt?" she asked apologetically, lifting the cloth from his face.
The slight pain from her ministrations didn't even compare to the agony he had endured mere hours ago, but Remus grabbed the lifeline she had thrown him. "Just a bit," he said.
"I'm sorry," she said again. "I'm almost done."
Remus tried to focus on the sting of the soap as she finished up, making delicate swipes with the fabric across his jawbone.
She pulled the cloth away and tilted her head from side to side, contemplating the wound. Remus thought that was the end of it, but then she put a hand on his shoulder to steady herself, leaned in again, and began blowing cold air across the cut.
Remus's eyes widened in panic as he leaned away from her.
"It's fine," he tried to say casually. "It doesn't hurt anymore."
"Oh, okay," she said softly. She shifted herself away from him, giving him room, but continued to watch him. "How - how was it? Last night?" she asked.
He smiled blandly at her. "Oh, it was fine," he said.
Her eyes flickered back to the cut on his face, her own face the picture of skepticism.
"I have definitely had worse months," he said reassuringly.
She dropped his gaze then, staring at the bloody cloth in her hands. Without warning she had gone from curious and concerned to morose.
"I'm so sorry I couldn't get the Wolfsbane Potion right," she said miserably to her lap. "I - I promise I'll get it right for next time. I promise!"
"Please don't apologize," Remus rushed to reassure her, remembering what Sirius had said earlier. "I'm not upset about it at all. I promise."
"But I messed it up and I ran out of time and you didn't have it and now you're hurt and I -"
"Mairead," he said firmly. "That's enough."
She stopped her rambling, but Remus could tell from the look on her face that her turmoil had not eased. She picked at her fingernails for a few moments, then held up the cloth and softly said, "I'll just go rinse this out."
She still looked deeply unhappy when she returned.
"What film are you watching?" he asked, hoping for a change of subject.
"Oh," she said, glancing at the television. "Arsenic and Old Lace." She held up a tube that was in her hand. "I found some antiseptic ointment," she said, sitting back down and twisting off the cap. "It's not as good as Essence of Dittany, but it'll prevent that from getting infected. Can I -?"
Remus waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, Mairead, really," he said. "It'll be fine."
She was frowning anxiously at him. "Are you sure?" she asked. "Because -"
"Really. I'm sure."
Mairead looked deflated. She scratched her eyebrow. "Have you eaten?" she asked.
Remus shook his head. "No."
She jumped to her feet. "I'll make you breakfast!" she said. "What'll you have?"
Remus sighed in exasperation. "You don't have to make me breakfast, Mairead," he said.
"No, it's fine," she insisted. "Stay there and rest; I'll bring you something."
"Mairead, I didn't come here for you to take care of me!" he said sharply.
He instantly felt horrible for snapping at her. She froze in the doorway. Remus's eyes sought hers out, horrified at the way he had lost his temper at her, afraid he had frightened her again.
Why exactly do you keep coming to her house only to intimidate and scare her half to death? he berated himself.
Only Mairead didn't look scared. She looked confused.
"Oh, okay," she said softly, fiddling with the tube of ointment in her hands. She considered him curiously for a moment, then hesitantly said, "Then... why did you come here?"
For the second time that morning, Remus was rendered speechless. Why had he come here? Casting around for an excuse, Remus suddenly felt too exhausted to come up with one.
"I just... wanted to see you," he heard himself say.
Mairead took this in, nodding slowly. She still looked deeply confused, but it appeared that she was trying to roll with his unpredictable mood.
"Okay, well, I'm hungry, so I'm going to make some breakfast for myself," she said slowly. "You're welcome to join me in the kitchen if you'd like." She gave him a small smile, then turned and slipped out of the room.
Remus sighed heavily and planted his face in the cushions on the back of the couch.
What exactly is wrong with you? he asked himself. She's being lovely and you're being a prick.
After a few seconds, he reasoned that he either needed to leave or to go be with her in the kitchen. And leaving now would only make his behavior even stranger in her eyes. Hauling himself to his feet with a pained groan, Remus shuffled after the sound of her footsteps.
The kitchen was equally as sun drenched as the sitting room had been. Remus found Mairead flitting around the kitchen, pulling ingredients out and setting them on the counter. She looked up when he entered and smiled at him. Once she had finished gathering everything she needed, she stopped and faced him.
"So, I'm making eggs and pancakes and bangers," she said. "If I made extra, would you eat it, or are you not hungry?"
Remus couldn't stop himself from chuckling and shaking his head at her cleverness. He was being a prat about her looking after him and she had found a way to do it without making it about him. She always had been good at finding workarounds.
She would be so good for you, Moony.
A defeated smile tugged at his lips as he said, "If it's not any trouble."
She smiled shyly and got to work.
"Raspberries or chocolate chips for your pancakes?" she asked him.
"Whatever you were going to have is fine with me," he said.
Mairead nodded. "Both, then."
He chuckled again.
He watched her silently as she worked, and she left him to his thoughts. When she had made a plate of food and a mug of tea for both of them, she picked hers up and faced him.
"I was going to eat in there," she said, nodding her head back in the direction of the sitting room. "D'you want to watch the film while we eat?"
Remus smiled softly at her. "That sounds nice," he said.
"Have you seen this one?" she asked him as they sat down.
"No, I don't believe I have," he replied.
She reached over and picked up a rectangular device with many buttons on it. "I'll start it over," she said. "You've got to see it from the beginning."
Remus opened his mouth to tell her not to trouble herself, but before he could get a word out - without even looking over at him, Mairead said, "Shut up." She glanced over at him. "Sir," she added meekly.
Remus burst out laughing. After a second or two, Mairead joined in, looking surprised at her own boldness.
The film turned out to be riotously funny. After they finished eating, Mairead pulled her legs up under her and curled up in a ball, leaning her side against the back of the couch to watch the film. Remus secretly enjoyed that this gave him an easy way to sneak glances over at her. He loved the sound of her laughter and couldn't keep himself from smiling whenever she glanced over at him to see how he was enjoying the film.
He leaned back on the couch, content to watch the film through half-lidded eyes and listen to the sweet, tinkling sound of Mairead's laughter.
He wasn't sure when he dozed off, but he awoke to the sound of whimpering. Sitting bolt upright, he looked over at Mairead and saw that she had also fallen asleep, but she lacked the relaxed, carefree look of someone peacefully slumbering. Her brows were drawn together in a fretful expression, and her breath was coming in short gasps. As he watched, she began twitching, and her mouth opened like she was trying to speak. All that came out were more whimpers.
Remus reached over and gently shook her shoulder. "Mairead," he said softly.
"I'm here," she moaned, turning her head restlessly from side to side. "I'm trying - please - which path?"
"May," he said more loudly, shaking her shoulder again.
"Cedric," she whispered. "Please don't leave me."
Remus set his jaw, then shook Mairead firmly by the arm.
"Mairead," he said loudly. "Wake up."
With a gasp, Mairead's eyes snapped open. She startled at the sight of Remus and lashed out at him to push him away. He pulled away and sat back to give her space.
Mairead held onto the back of the couch and looked around the room, breathing heavily. She appeared confused, and it seemed to take her a few moments to remember where she was.
She swallowed thickly when her eyes rested on him. Remus noticed that she had begun to tremble.
Remus reminded himself that he needed to keep a safe distance between himself and Mairead. Whatever his problem was, it had not gone away last night. He needed to be careful if he didn't want his problem to get worse, or become noticeable.
"Sorry," Mairead whispered, and she blinked rapidly as her eyes began to fill.
Fuck it.
Remus wordlessly held out his arms, and Mairead hesitated for only a moment before falling into them. He held her to his chest and rubbed soft, soothing circles on her back. He could feel her clinging to his shirtfront and felt her warm breath and soft hair tickle his throat as she burrowed into him. He murmured soft, reassuring nothings to her and listened as her ragged breathing slowly smoothed out.
Gradually her breathing deepened, and Remus knew she had fallen asleep again.
You should push her away, he told himself. Just rearrange her on the couch and leave. Go home. You don't belong here.
Just five more minutes, he negotiated with himself. Five more minutes and I'll go. I've got to make sure she's really asleep.
When those five minutes were up, Remus negotiated another five minutes. It wouldn't do for me to leave and have her have another nightmare, he reasoned.
When those five minutes passed, he told himself he would leave on the hour.
He still hadn't managed to talk himself into leaving when he rested his head against Mairead's and fell back to sleep.
Author's Note: Awww, Remus and Mairead cuddling on the couch? Guess he couldn't stay away for long, could he? ;-) Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you'll let me know what you thought!
No song for this chapter.
