Author's Note: Wow! I guess the last chapter struck a nerve - so many of you reviewed! So many, many thanks to GraceMonroe, Mercymadness, and This Muse for your reviews! It sounds like you're all pretty pissed with Remus right now (understandably). I hope, though, that he isn't straying out of character, because you all know how much I hate going OOC. I hope this chapter makes up for it! It's another long one!
I know I'm technically posting this on Saturday (it's after midnight where I am); sorry about that! The June Zoom is in full swing, and I'm doing my best to keep up. :-) I *will* respond to all of your comments (so please keep them coming; I'm not above begging, haha!). But I wanted to make sure to get this chapter posted as soon as possible!
With that, I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Ten: Ballgowns and Breakthroughs
Mairead wanted few things more in life than she wanted to stay as far away from Grimmauld Place as she possibly could. Unfortunately, with the Minister's Ball rapidly approaching, there was a near constant demand for her presence at headquarters. There were meetings to attend, details to iron out, trips to Diagon Alley to pick out dress robes (once by herself and, after Mairead had returned from her first trip with robes that she thought were suitable but which Doge had said were good for little more than picnics and gardening, a second time with Fleur), and dancing lessons with Sirius (who was a shockingly good dancer, having been dragged along to his fair share of events like these in his teenage years).
Worst of all, though, was the dialect coaching. She had been advised that her Irish accent was not going to pass muster for the character the Order were creating for her. She was to be instructed in the posh, clipped tones of the London elite. And according to all of the experienced members of the Order, no one was better at dialect coaching than the very man she so fervently sought to avoid.
She had avoided Lupin as much as she possibly could, although she could not be entirely successful without shirking her duties to the Order. Just the thought of being in the same room with him was enough to send Mairead spiraling into anxiety, but she knew that she would never get another chance to prove herself to the Order if she blew this opportunity, and so she settled for being strictly professional in all her dealings with Lupin. She was not cold, but neither was she warm. Lupin, for his part, mercifully followed Mairead's lead. He did not try to apologize to her again, but he also did not treat her with the teasing familiarity she had previously been used to from him. He was polite, courteous, and the perfect gentleman. It was as if they did not know one another. Which, as she so painfully reminded herself, was closer to the truth than she had ever known.
She found it particularly excruciating to find themselves back in the roles of student and teacher. It turned out that everyone was correct: Remus had an ear for dialects, and he was also, as she already knew, an exceptionally gifted teacher. She was shocked at how quickly she was able to pick up on the London accent he was coaching her in, despite having never before shown any great talent for accents.
It was one of these dialect sessions that was interrupted, two days before the Ball, by the arrival of the other Order members for yet another meeting. Everyone began seating themselves around the table. Mairead wanted to change seats - the thought of sitting next to Lupin for the entire meeting made her stomach squirm with nerves - but couldn't figure a way to do it without seeming terribly rude, and so she stayed where she was as Lupin gathered their notes into a neat stack and the meeting got underway.
Dumbledore began by announcing to the Order that Harry had been cleared of all charges of improper use of magic. A cheer went around the table, and Mairead felt a twist of guilt: she had forgotten that the trial was to have taken place that morning.
Self-absorbed much? the voice in her head thought snidely.
She stole a glance over at Lupin and saw that he looked immensely relieved, like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. Looking further along, however, she noticed that Sirius, while smiling like everyone else, did not look quite so happy.
Dumbledore brought the mood down a bit by describing the hearing, which had taken place, not in Amelia Bones's office like it was supposed to, but in one of the subterranean courtrooms before the entire Wizengamot, Cornelius Fudge, and Dolores Umbridge.
Mairead started in her chair at the mention of Umbridge. Unpleasant memories began flooding her mind unbidden. She closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head to be rid of them.
"Are you all right?"
Mairead looked over at the whispered question and saw that Lupin was watching her, looking worried.
Mairead swallowed thickly and nodded her head.
Discussion then turned to the upcoming Ball. Snape announced that he had brought an ample supply of Polyjuice Potion to the meeting.
"After all," he said in his soft, silky voice. "Our designated Potions Mistress has proven herself in the past to be unequal to the task."
His eyes glittered unpleasantly as he looked down his nose at Mairead. She bit back the retort that flew to the tip of her tongue, not wanting to forfeit the composure she had been working so hard to maintain.
"Mundungus," said Dumbledore, "do you have the samples I asked for?"
Everyone looked over at Mundungus, who did not stir.
"Could someone please nudge him?" prompted the headmaster.
Tonks enthusiastically aimed a kick at Mundungus under the table, who snorted and sat up straight.
"No, Your Honor, I am listenin'," he said. He looked around, seemed to remember where he was, and said, "Oh."
"Do you have the samples I asked you to collect, Mundungus?" repeated Dumbledore.
"Sure do," Mundungus said. He reached into the rippling folds of the tatty brown robes he was wearing, rummaged for a moment or two, and then emerged with what looked to Mairead like two extremely hairy rodents of some kind.
"These ones're for Lupin to try," said Mundungus, tossing one of the balls of fur across the table. Lupin reached out and caught what turned out to be several clumps of hair of differing shades, lengths, and textures, all bound individually with elastic bands.
"And these're for M'read," Mundungus added, tossing the other ball of hair at Mairead. She shrank away and let the hairball land on the table in front of her.
"Er... you shouldn't have?" she said, wrinkling her nose.
"Thanks very much, Mundungus," Lupin said politely. "We'll test these out."
"Probably should do it now, Remus," Moody spoke up. "You've got plenty of people who can sample the potions right here, and you can pick among them."
"I agree," said Dumbledore. "Would anyone be willing to volunteer to take the Polyjuice Potion?"
Nearly everyone at the table readily agreed, and soon Mrs. Weasley was fetching goblets and Snape was pouring Polyjuice Potion into them and passing them around to the other Order members, who were standing up and moving away from the table.
Mairead felt completely lost at sea, but she wasn't about to admit it to anyone, so she just sat in anxious silence. Lupin hadn't made a move to take a goblet, and so she held still, as well.
"They're trying out different looks for our characters for the Ball," she heard Lupin murmur.
She looked up at him, unable to stop herself.
"Mundungus collected hair samples from a barber friend of his," Lupin continued. "Some male, some female. We'll then choose which look we think would be most fitting."
"Oh, okay," said Mairead softly.
Hate battled with love that he was the only one who had noticed how confused she was.
She watched as, one by one, the people around her sprinkled a hair or two into their goblets, gulped down the potion, and began to shift and morph before her eyes. Lupin turned in his chair to watch them. Mairead counted to six, not wanting to seem like a hanger-on, then did the same.
Within moments, the kitchen was filled with total strangers. Mairead's eyes boggled as she took this in. She had read about the Polyjuice Potion and had attempted to make one, but she had never actually seen the effects in person.
Of the men, five were white, one was Black, and one appeared to be of Middle Eastern descent. Personally, Mairead thought that the Middle Eastern man was the handsomest of the bunch, with shiny, black hair, molten brown eyes, and a perfectly proportioned face, but the other Order members quickly decided that he looked to be in his late teens or early twenties, too young to be plausibly loaded with money. They chose one of the white men, who appeared to be in his mid-fifties. His hair and beard were grey, he had watery blue eyes, and he was a bit doughy, like someone whose body could no longer keep up with an indulgent lifestyle.
Next, they turned to the female figures. Two were instantly dismissed as being too old, and a third quickly followed for not being attractive enough. Mairead felt a flash of indignation on behalf of these women. Even though she knew the point of the exercise was to pick out a suitable piece of arm candy for the wealthy older man Lupin would be playing, it still felt distinctly gross to her. She was torn from her thoughts by an exclamation from one of the members. Though the figure and voice were both feminine, the cockney accent and raggedy brown robes quickly betrayed Mundungus as being the wizard inside the curvy blonde woman, who was holding the front of her robes away from herself and looking down inside them.
"Cor!" he cried, eyes wide as he stared inside his own clothing. "Look a' the knockers on this one!"
"MUNDUNGUS FLETCHER!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. "You stop that at ONCE!"
"I don't mean anything by it, Molly," protested Mundungus. The blonde woman looked around at the other strangers. "Sirius? Wanna have a peek, mate?"
One of the white strangers raised an eyebrow. "I am struggling to bring to mind anything I have ever wanted less in my entire life than to look at your tits, Dung," he said.
Mundungus shrugged, robes still held out. "D'you wanna check 'em out, Remus? You'll be dating her, after all."
Lupin stared at him stonily for a second before saying, "If I live to be a thousand years old, I shall never understand the restraint that women show in not murdering us all in our sleep."
The blonde woman blinked. "Is - is that a yes, then?"
"That's a no from me, Mundungus."
Mairead spoke up. "Can we... be done... with this portion of the evening?" she asked faintly. Though she was mostly offended on behalf of the unknown woman, she also couldn't help but feel slightly violated herself, as she would be masquerading as one of these women very soon.
"Yes," said Doge firmly. "I think it should either be the ginger or the blonde."
"The redhead is too beautiful," Lupin said decisively. "She'll draw too much unwanted attention."
"You know, not everyone has your thing for gingers, Moony," said Sirius, his voice not as deep as it usually was but his accent still identifying him. "But I agree. The blonde is pretty enough to be a plausible trophy date but not so stunning that everyone's going to want to dance with her."
"Any objections?" asked Dumbledore, looking around at the crowd of strangers. When no one stirred, he nodded. "Very well. Let us discard the other samples so as not to get them confused."
The other clumps of hair were tossed into the fireplace where they sizzled and flared briefly. Everyone returned to the table to resume the meeting. As Sirius settled himself beside Lupin, Lupin leaned towards him and Mairead heard him mutter, "I do not have a thing for gingers."
The day of the Ball arrived. Mairead had been at headquarters since the early morning, going over the plan two, then three, then four more times with Moody and Lupin. They had been told where to Apparate to in the event of a critical failure to the mission, and Moody had also gone over what each of them should do should they be separated or one of them killed. By the time Moody was finished with them, Mairead was queasy with fear. As hurt and angry as she still was, the thought of Lupin getting hurt, captured, or killed was enough to send her hurtling into an anxiety attack.
Quaking with nerves, she shuffled off to a bathroom that had been converted into a makeshift beauty parlor. Fleur was there, and she began by feeding Mairead a helping of Polyjuice Potion. When Mairead's image had transformed into the curvy blonde woman, Fleur gave Mairead a manicure and pedicure. Mairead had never had either one before, and while she initially thought it would be fun, she quickly found that having her skin exfoliated and her cuticles shoved about and trimmed was uncomfortable at best, painful at worst. And when Fleur moved from Mairead's hands to her feet, Mairead, very regretfully, was so overcome with both nerves and the tickling sensation of having her feet touched that she wound up shrieking hysterically and had to be left alone to calm down for fifteen minutes before Fleur could resume her work.
Next, Mairead's long, straight blonde hair was washed (by herself, as she would not permit anyone else to pour water over her head), dried, perfumed, and a copious amount of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion was run through it before it was curled and painfully twisted into an elaborate updo that Mairead was certain she would never be able to pull off herself.
Anytime Mairead felt the strange sensation that her skin was beginning to crawl, she reached for the goblet of Polyjuice Potion and took another sip. In this way, she maintained the image of the blonde woman throughout the day as Fleur made her up from head to toe.
Once Mairead's hair was finished to Fleur's satisfaction, Fleur very carefully helped Mairead into her dress robes. Mairead had pleaded with Fleur to let her change into the bra and knickers by herself, but after ten minutes of struggling and working up a sweat, she eventually had to concede that she needed Fleur's help cramming the bust that Mundungus had been so fascinated by into the longline corset-style bra that had been selected to go under her robes.
"I guess big boobs aren't all they're cracked up to be," Mairead said, fighting embarrassment as she held the front of the corset in place while Fleur jerked and tugged at the material from behind, doing it up.
"Well, zey 'ave zair benefits, too," said Fleur loftily.
Mairead was dubious about the dress robes when Fleur brought them into the room.
"I'm confused," she confessed to the beautiful witch. "These robes were purchased to fit me. They're never going to fit... erm, me." She gestured at her disguise's longer legs, broader shoulders, and generous bust.
Fleur shook her long, platinum hair out of the way. "Zese are 'igh quality dress robes," she said confidently. "Zey are charmed to adjust zemselves to feet whomevair poots zem on."
"Oh," Mairead said softly, unaware of the spellwork woven into the fabric.
Fleur was right: once she had helped Mairead don the robes, Mairead caught a look at herself in the mirror above the bathroom sink. The midnight blue robes fit her perfectly. And, Mairead thought with a suppressed sigh, the woman in the mirror looked tenfold better in them than Mairead ever would. They draped effortlessly across her curves, falling off her well-shaped shoulders and showing off just the right amount of tanned skin. Mairead consoled herself by making a silent promise that if she survived tonight's mission, she would delve into the fascinating and heretofore unknown world of textile magic.
Fleur finished out her work by doing Mairead's makeup. Mairead wanted to watch Fleur work and pick up some tips, but Fleur's vision involved elaborate eye makeup, and so Mairead spent most of the time with her eyes closed, feeling the tickling sensation of various brushes sweeping across her skin.
Mairead had thought that Moody was being overly cautious by having her arrive at headquarters so early in the day. But by the time that Fleur finished with Mairead, Mairead only had time for a final look at herself in the mirror before she had to run downstairs to meet Lupin, Sirius, and Moody, the latter two of whom would wait by the receivers to make sure the devices were working.
"Hi, sorry," she said breathlessly as she pushed open the door. She started towards the men - Lupin, like her, already in his Polyjuice disguise - but was stopped by a sudden jerking behind her. Careening backwards, Mairead twisted around and saw that a swoop in her dress robes had caught on the doorknob.
This was not exactly the graceful entrance she had envisioned, and it wasn't helped by Fleur entering the room a moment later, also hurrying but managing to do so with the utmost composure and poise.
"What are you doing?" Fleur demanded impatiently. "You left wizzout your shoes!"
She waved a pair of the most treacherous-looking heels Mairead had ever seen in her life. Mairead stared in wide-eyed horror as Fleur set them down at her feet and offered her a hand to step into them.
"Err..." she began, then lowered her voice to a whisper. "I can't wear those."
"You can and you will," was all Fleur said in response.
Mairead considered the shoes for a moment or two before concluding that she would be damn lucky if those shoes were the worst thing to happen to her that evening. Clinging to Fleur's hand for dear life, Mairead gingerly stepped into the shoes. She was instantly uncomfortable. They pinched her toes and she could just tell that her heels would be murder by the end of the evening. She wobbled like a new-born filly, bracing herself against the door to the kitchen while Fleur knelt down at her feet and fastened the straps.
"Zair!" Fleur sighed in satisfaction when she stood and stepped back. "What do you theenk?"
Mairead shrank under the appraising looks of the three men across the room, and tried to concentrate instead on slowly removing her hand from the door and standing on her own.
"You've got to stop the cringing, Gryffindor," said Sirius. "You can have the best disguise in all of England and it won't mean shit if you don't sell it."
Mairead nodded, reaching up to scratch her eyebrow nervously.
"Don't do zat!" snapped Fleur, slapping Mairead's hand away. "Do not touch your face for ze entire evening!"
"Sorry," Mairead mumbled. She fought to stand straight and not look self-conscious, which felt nearly impossible as she watched Lupin's eyes sweep up and down her body.
Is this what he likes? she wondered, before pushing the thought out of her head.
She swallowed nervously, waiting for the men to complete their assessment. Lupin opened his mouth, and his words nearly crushed Mairead.
"It's not too late to back out of this," he said softly.
Mairead felt tears sting her eyelids. She was already feeling nervous, self-conscious, afraid, and overwhelmed. The last thing she needed was this vote of no confidence from Lupin. She lifted her head defiantly.
"I'm not backing out," she said resolutely.
He frowned, and, though he was wearing the face of someone completely different from himself, Mairead felt as though she would be able to identify him just from that expression alone.
"If you can't pull this off, Mairead, if you're too nervous, then it's simply too dangerous to -"
"She'll sell it."
Mairead looked up at Moody in surprise. He hadn't moved at all since she had walked into the room. Both eyes had been trained on her, watching her, evaluating her. Now, however, Moody's regular eye was trained on Lupin, though his magical one was still looking over at her.
"She's allowed to be as nervous as she wants right now," he continued. "She'll pull it together when it's go time. Kid's got nerves of steel when it matters."
Mairead gave Moody a tiny, grateful smile, which he did not return. Lupin did not look happy, but he nodded nevertheless.
"We should go," he said.
"I'll walk you out," said Moody.
Mairead stood back to let Moody and Lupin leave the room first. She turned to Fleur and forced a smile onto her face. She could feel her lips trembling.
"Thanks for all of your help," she said.
"Good luck," Fleur said simply in return.
Sirius stepped forward and handed Mairead a flask. "Top off your Polyjuice Potion before you leave," he said. "Knock 'em dead, Gryffindor. Literally, if you can manage it."
Mairead let out a sound that was something between a chuckle and a whimper, then turned and wobbled off out the door.
She was worried at first that she was going to break an ankle in the heels, but she pulled herself together and was walking straight and mostly steadily by the time she joined Moody and Lupin in the entrance hall.
"Ready?" Lupin asked her, eyeing her seriously.
She nodded. "Yes," she said with as much confidence as she could muster.
"You remember the plan?" asked Moody gruffly. "Any final questions?"
Mairead shook her head, watching Lupin check for the listening devices that were tucked securely inside an interior pocket.
"Let's go," he said.
She took a deep breath and followed him out onto the landing outside Grimmauld Place.
"Good luck," said Moody. He closed the door and Mairead heard him doing up the locks and bolts.
"Ready?" Lupin asked for a second time, as if hoping her answer would be different.
She curled her fingers around her wand and nodded.
As one, they turned on their heels and Disapparated. They reappeared side by side behind a dumpster filled to bursting with refuse. Lupin checked his watch.
"We're a few minutes early," he muttered. "Best to wait here."
Mairead nodded wordlessly. From the corner of her eye, she could see that Lupin was still watching her warily.
"Don't forget your accent," he muttered. "If you get asked any questions, stick to your background. Do you remember it?"
Mairead gave him a withering look.
"If we get separated, try to meet me by the fountain," he went on. "If we're separated for more than five minutes and I don't show up at the fountain, just leave. Get out and go straight to the location Moody picked for us, all right? Don't try to find me. Just get out, understand?"
Mairead sighed and tried not to roll her eyes as she nodded. She reached into her robes and pulled out the flask Sirius had handed her. She saw Lupin check his watch again, then take out his own flask.
"Once we drink this we've got one hour," he said. "That's why we need to be in and out by eight fifty-five. That only leaves us fifteen minutes before the potion wears off. If something happens and it takes longer, you have a vial with an emergency supply, but it'll only buy you another ten minutes, so -"
"Christ on a Cleansweep, did you not notice that I was at all of the planning meetings, too?" Mairead hissed at him.
A tense silence followed.
"Sorry," they both muttered in unison, avoiding one another's eyes.
After they both drank from their flasks, Lupin checked his watch a final time.
"Time to go," he said, his unfamiliar voice tight with nerves.
They stepped out from behind the dumpster and approached a dingy looking red telephone box. Lupin held the door open for her and Mairead turned sideways to get inside, pressing herself against the side to make room for him to join her. He picked up the receiver and dialed 62442.
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic," a smooth, disembodied female voice said. "Please state your name and business."
"Ignatius Thrumpwyle," said Lupin. Mairead stared at him. His voice, moments ago low and taut with nerves, now sounded liquid and utterly at ease. She recognized the upper class London accent that he had been teaching to her. "Guest at the Minister's Ball, with my date, Ophelia Chesterton."
"Thank you," the voice said.
Mairead started as she felt the floor beginning to sink under her feet. All at once, she felt undone by panic. She felt as though her stomach were undulating inside of her. She thought she was going to be sick. She felt positive she would faint. The pavement rose up the sides of the telephone box, and she was gripped with crushing claustrophobia. She couldn't breathe. There was a weight compressing her chest. Soon she would be blind. She stared up at the last of the outside light, pressing her hands flat against the glass walls, certain that she was about to scream in terror.
Just as darkness was closing around her head, she felt Lupin's arms wrap around her.
"You can do this," she heard him say firmly. "It'll be all right."
"No, I can't," she gasped hysterically. "You were right. I'm not good enough for this. I shouldn't have come. I'm going to ruin everything. I'm going to expose the Order. I'm going to get us killed. I'm -"
"You are the strongest person I have ever met in my life, Mairead," he cut her off, tightening his arms around her and holding her to his chest. "You absolutely can do this. Don't forget that you're not alone. You plant the bugs. I'll keep us safe. We're a team. I won't leave your side."
For a sickeningly long minute, all Mairead could hear was the wheezing of her breath, the blood roaring in her ears and a scraping sound like nails on a chalkboard as they slid far, far under the ground. Mairead closed her eyes and rested her forehead against Lupin's chest. Listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat, she inhaled to the count of three, held her breath for a count of three, exhaled for a count of three, and paused for a count of three. She continued breathing in this fashion until she felt light on her eyelids and Lupin's arms release her.
"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day," said the disembodied voice.
The door accordioned open and Lupin stepped out, turning to offer her his arm. Mairead took a sharp, short breath, stiffened her spine, tilted her chin at an imperious angle, and reached out and curled her fingers around Lupin's proffered forearm.
Mairead stepped gracefully out of the telephone box and into a long, grandiose hall. Her eyes took in with a look of cool indifference the peacock-blue ceiling and dark floor so shiny she could see the room reflected in it. A string quartet was playing a lilting waltz as they entered. Lupin guided her over to an attendant, to whom he handed his invitation.
"This seems to be in order, sir," said the attendant, who examined the invitation, which he held in white gloved hands. "Welcome to the Minister's Ball, Mr. Thrumpwyle."
Lupin ignored the attendant's welcome and Mairead followed suit. He led her straight to the dance floor, then turned to face her and pulled her into his arms.
He led Mairead in a Viennese Waltz, and Mairead was instantly reminded what an incredible dancer he was. For the briefest of moments Mairead feared that she would stumble and fall and destroy their cover. But then she firmly told herself that Ophelia Chesterton would never stumble.
Amazingly, this worked. Her feet fell into step effortlessly, and she didn't fall a single step behind as he swept her around the room. Mairead looked at him and saw that his eyes were focused, not on hers, but just past her left ear.
"Just scanning the room," he muttered so softly that only she could hear it.
She lifted her chin slightly to acknowledge she had heard him, but did not trust herself to speak. Her heart was racing, her mouth had gone completely dry, and her eyes had trouble focusing on anything in the room, and not only because of the rate at which they were spinning around it.
The waltz ended, and Lupin leaned forward, an oily smile so unlike his own on his face.
"Macnair is already here," he muttered in her ear. She smiled and laughed as though he had said something charming.
"And Malfoy?" she asked softly, barely moving her lips.
Lupin shook his head. "I don't see him yet."
The orchestra began a new piece and they stepped back into one another's arms. Mairead watched Lupin's unfamiliar, watery blue eyes continuing to monitor the crowd as they danced. Mairead tried to do the same but when her eyes alighted on the imposing figure of Walden Macnair she became so distressed that dizziness washed over her and she stumbled.
"All right?" Lupin asked, taking his eyes off the crowd briefly to look over at her.
"Yes," she lied breathlessly. "Sorry; just had a clumsy moment."
She spent the rest of the dance focusing on breathing and not falling over.
"Let's get a drink," suggested Lupin when the dance ended. He offered Mairead his arm and led her over to a long bar set up along one of the walls.
"Two champagnes," he said briskly, clicking his fingers at the bartender. Mairead had never heard him speak so lordly before.
"Thrumpwyle, old boy," came a familiar, wheezy voice from behind them. They turned to find Elphias Doge, looking very well put together in his inky black dress robes.
"Justice Doge," said Lupin heartily, jutting out his hand and firmly shaking Doge's. "Have you met Miss Ophelia Chesterton?"
"Milady," said Doge, bowing at Mairead and kissing the back of her hand.
"Bit of a poor showing this year, isn't it?" Lupin asked casually, taking a drink from his champagne and carelessly surveying the crowd.
"Is it?" asked Doge, turning to the bartender and ordering a scotch.
Lupin hummed. "Only about half the number I would have expected to see here."
"Well, the night is young," Doge said, dropping a few knuts into the tip jar at the end of the bar.
"Haven't seen you around the club lately, Doge," remarked Lupin, changing the subject smoothly.
"Yes, well, you know what they say," Doge said with a chortle. "Justice waits for no man's leisure." Lupin raised his champagne flute in a salute to Doge before steering Mairead back into the crowd.
"We're to proceed with the plan even if Malfoy doesn't show up," Lupin said quietly in her ear.
Mairead nodded and smiled at a passing witch. She hoped that Lupin would know the nod was meant for him, but she wasn't nearly as good at passing secret messages as he and Doge so clearly were.
It seemed to take forever for the twenty minutes to pass until Fudge made his welcome speech. Mairead took a few tiny sips of her champagne before handing it over to an attendant holding a platter of empty glasses. As they mingled in the crowd, Mairead felt marginally reassured when she spotted Arthur and Molly Weasley, Kingsley, and Tonks, all scattered at different points throughout the room. They all seemed to be doing an admirable job of ignoring one another.
Finally, after Mairead had become convinced that time had stopped and she had become imprisoned in some sadistic, eternal torture trap of anxiety and nausea, she heard a few people start to clap. Quickly, the entire room fell silent except for the applause as Minister Fudge took to a dais at one end of the room.
"Welcome," he said to another round of applause. "Welcome to the two hundred and fourth annual Minister's Ball!"
Mairead stood at Lupin's side, applauding when he applauded and fixing a look of haughty boredom upon her face, should anyone be looking. Internally, though, Mairead was counting to one hundred and eighty, at which point she and Lupin would slip away from the crowd and back towards the lift.
Just as she reached the three minute mark in her head, Mairead felt a hand on her back. Looking over, she saw Lupin tilt his head away from the crowd. She turned and followed after him, smoothly gliding between the people surrounding her. She had been nervous that other witches and wizards in the crowd would notice her exit, but they were too busy shuffling for a better view of the Minister of Magic to pay her any mind.
Soon they left the crowd behind and entered a small adjoining hall where a bank of lifts stood. Lupin approached one and pressed the up button, then stood back when the golden grates clattered open to let her walk into the lift ahead of him. When the doors closed, shutting out the sight of the hundreds of people in the atrium, Lupin pressed the number four button on the lift and Mairead once again felt the sickening jolt in her stomach as they began to ascend.
They waited in silence as the disembodied female voice announced each level they passed. Mairead's nerves were screaming so insistently at her to run for safety it was a wonder that they couldn't be heard out loud.
"Level four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being, and Spirit Divisions. Goblin Liaison Office, and Pest Advisory Bureau."
The lift doors opened onto a bank of offices. Lupin stepped off first, wand in hand as his eyes did a sweep of the floor before beckoning to Mairead to join him.
An odd calmness had settled over Mairead. It was as though she had been taking shelter during a natural disaster of some kind, like an earthquake or hurricane, and silence had finally fallen. Her heart beat evenly in her chest, her breath came deep and easily, and her eyes steadily took in the office floorplan she had only ever seen on paper.
Taking out her own wand, she nodded silently at Lupin and the two set off for Macnair's office. They walked soundlessly across the grimy, well-trodden carpet until they arrived outside a door whose nameplate announced, Walden Macnair: Executioner for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures.
Lupin watched Mairead tap her wand against the doorknob and whisper, "Alohomora!" She tried the doorknob and the office door swung open. Lupin stepped inside, did a brief check to ensure it was empty, then stood back and took up sentry outside the door, wand raised and ready.
Mairead held out a hand for one of the transmitters. Lupin handed it to her, checked his watch, and held up four fingers. She nodded and stepped into Macnair's office.
She froze at the sight of the many, many heads mounted to the walls. There was a goblin, a hippogriff, something that looked like a boar but whose tusks were serrated, and, hanging directly behind Macnair's desk in what was clearly a place of pride and honor - Mairead's stomach heaved - a head she was positive belonged to a werewolf. Various weapons were also hanging on the walls, interspersed among the severed heads. She saw several axes, many knives, a sword, and what she believed might be a machete. Pushing down the question of which of these weapons Macnair would use on her and Lupin should they be caught, Mairead hurried over to his desk.
Macnair's desk was cluttered with magazines on magical game and supply catalogs for hunting paraphernalia. None of this would do. She searched for something on the desk that looked permanent, but found nothing: no clock, no picture frame containing a photograph of a smiling wife or children, not even a fancy crystal inkwell.
"Shit," she breathed.
She opened the first desk drawer and found it was piled with quills, bottles of ink, and a few small pocketknives. The second drawer simply had rolls of parchment, and the bottom drawer was empty. This was clearly not an office Macnair spent much time inside, which, Mairead supposed, made sense, given that most of his job involved... field work.
Something caught Mairead's eye and she looked up to see Lupin's hand in the doorway, holding up three fingers. She had already lost a minute looking around and still had not found a place to plant the bug.
She placed a hand over her mouth and could feel a thin layer of sweat above her upper lip. She had rubbed it off before she remembered Fleur's admonishment not to touch her face.
Looking around the room in desperation, Mairead's eyes returned to the werewolf head. Its yellow eyes were narrowed and its snout was drawn back in a menacing snarl, showing off glinting white teeth and a pink tongue that was charmed to look permanently moist.
All of her indecision forgotten, Mairead grabbed hold of Macnair's office chair and dragged it over to the wall by the werewolf head. Kicking off her shoes, she climbed onto the chair's seat, braced one hand on the wall, and used the other to place the transmitter inside the werewolf's gaping maw.
She carefully positioned the transmitter so that it would be in the best position to pick up sound from all directions. After a final check of the transmitter to make sure all of the parts and pieces were in place, she used a fingernail to flick the switch on the transmitter to the "on" position, then lowered herself back to the ground. She went over to Macnair's desk and cautiously said, "Test. Test. Test."
Not waiting for the response, she slipped her shoes back on, returned Macnair's chair to its place, and ran swiftly but silently for the door. In the doorway, she turned around, surveyed the room to make sure it looked exactly as she had found it, then pulled the heavy oak door closed behind her.
As she was locking the door with her wand, there was a brief flash of golden light and a phoenix feather dropped from the air to the ground. Lupin stooped to pick it up.
"It's working," he muttered, stowing the feather in a pocket. "Back to the lift."
"How are we doing for time?" she asked breathlessly as she trotted to keep up with Lupin's long stride.
He checked his watch. "Ten seconds behind," he said, quickening his gate. He jabbed at the up button outside the lift and whispered, "Inside, quick," when the golden grate opened.
Mairead found that she was calmest when she was in action. The twenty minutes they had spent in the ballroom, along with these moments waiting for the lift to bring them to their destination, were absolute torture.
The lift doors opened. Mairead started to step out, but Lupin's arm shot out and she crashed into it.
"Wait!" he hissed.
Mairead clutched at his forearm and watched as someone wearing the scarlet robes of an Auror ambled off another lift and moseyed off in the direction of the breakroom Mairead had argued with Doge about.
Wide-eyed, she turned to Lupin and breathed, "Sorry."
He shook his head. "Good call on that," he murmured.
They waited another few seconds, then at Lupin's nod they set off in the opposite direction. They walked as swiftly as they could while still moving silently, but there was no question that it took them longer to reach Malfoy's office than it would have done had they gone the other way.
"Here," Lupin whispered, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a golden key. "First floor offices won't open with Alohomora. Kingsley gave me this."
Mairead took the key from him and tried to unlock the door, but her hands were shaking so badly she couldn't slot it into the keyhole.
"Here," he murmured again. His steady hand covered her own and easily unlocked the door.
"Thanks," she breathed gratefully. Lupin checked his watch and winced.
"Two and a half minutes," he whispered, handing her the second listening device.
Mairead's lips tightened, but she nodded nevertheless and slipped in through the doorway.
Malfoy's office was far more lavish than Macnair's had been. For starters, the carpeting was plush and muted her footsteps, unlike the threadbare carpeting on Level Four. And where Macnair's office had contained numerous trophies from his hunts and executions, the walls of Malfoy's office simply contained wallpaper in vertical green and silver stripes. She remembered similar wallpaper having been in one of the rooms in Malfoy Manor, which she had had the unhappy occasion to visit multiple times in her childhood.
Pushing unpleasant memories to the back of her mind, Mairead strode for the desk. Mercifully, she instantly spotted the perfect hiding place for the transmitter. Malfoy had a small award on his desk - an Order of Merlin, Second Class. The award was slightly raised off the surface of the desk by four ornately carved wooden feet. Mairead carefully picked up the award and turned it over. The feet created a perfect, small cavity underneath the award. Mairead delicately placed the second listening device, positioned it to the ideal angle, and flicked it on.
She licked her dry lips and had just opened her mouth to test the sound when she was interrupted by a sudden movement by the door.
Lupin had entered the room, closed the door behind himself, and locked it.
"The Malfoys are coming down the corridor," he said in a low, urgent voice. "Forget the bug. We have to go."
Mairead gasped in a horrified breath. Setting the award back down with a clatter, she stepped away from Malfoy's desk and pulled out her wand.
"Do you remember the location?" Lupin asked. She nodded. "Go."
Mairead turned on her heel, envisioning the cabin deep in the woods of Kielder Forest. But something was wrong. She did not feel the familiar compression she normally experienced when Apparating.
When Mairead opened her eyes, she was still in Malfoy's office. She looked up and saw that Lupin was still there, too.
"He's placed an Anti-Disapparition Jinx on his office," Lupin said.
"What do we do?" asked Mairead. She whipped around and headed for the window on instinct, before remembering that they were underground and the window was fake.
Lupin's mouth tightened. "Get under the desk," he commanded. "No matter what you hear, do not come out." He turned and faced the door, shoulders squared, wand at the ready.
"Are you crazy?!" hissed Mairead. "You'll be killed!"
"Do as I say!" he snapped.
Mairead started automatically for the desk, unaccustomed to ignoring a direct order from Professor Lupin. There was a ringing in her ears. Time seemed to be moving slowly, as though she were being granted a few extra seconds with the man she loved before he sacrificed himself to buy her a few more moments of life.
There has to be another way, she thought desperately to herself. We need to come up with a reason we're in here.
Gasping audibly as the mad, last-ditch idea struck her, Mairead darted for the desk. Instead of throwing herself underneath it, however, she jumped up and sat on top of it. Reaching for her perfect hairdo, she grabbed it roughly and mussed it as chaotically as she could.
She had drawn Remus's attention. "What are you doing?!" he demanded in a harsh whisper.
"Get over here - quick!" she said in an urgent whisper.
He looked between her and the door uncertainly for less than a second before dashing over to the desk.
"What are you doing?" he repeated.
"Giving us a reason to be in here," she answered, reaching up to muss his thin, grey hair.
Lupin looked uncomprehendingly at her. Mairead leaned forward, grabbed the stark white collar of his shirt, and hastily mashed her mouth against it, smearing lipstick all over the fabric. She reached down for the hem of her skirt. When she began shifting her hips on the desk as she hiked her dress robes up around her thighs, Lupin's eyes widened with realization. He glanced at the door once more.
"We've got to sell this, Mairead," he said rapidly. "You've got to sell this like you've never sold anything before in your life."
"I know," she breathed. She looked straight into the eyes of Remus Lupin, who couldn't look more different from himself but whose entire soul shone through his eyes, and whom, despite everything that had happened, she trusted and loved with every atom in her body.
If she was going to die tonight, she wanted to be by his side when it happened.
One final flicker of indecision flitted across Remus's eyes.
Then, he crushed his mouth against Mairead's.
Mairead reached up into his hair, grabbing fistfuls of it in her fingers. He kissed her roughly, parting her lips forcefully with his own. She felt his hands grip her thighs and pull them apart. He wrapped an arm around her back and yanked her across the surface of the desk to its edge, stepping in between her legs.
Mairead heard Malfoy unlocking the door out in the corridor. Remus ground his hips against hers, and she let out a moan of passion.
Acting on sudden inspiration, she loudly cried, "Oh, God, Lucius!" as Remus's lips trailed down the column of her throat. She jolted at the feeling of his hands brushing against the insides of her thighs. She hadn't expected him to commit quite that thoroughly. It was a moment before she realized that he was just undoing his belt.
"Ophelia," he moaned.
There was a snapping of fingers, and then lights flared to life all around them as the fireplace and several lanterns lit simultaneously.
Remus and Mairead both jumped and Remus stumbled away from the desk, making an excellent show of stuffing his boxer shorts back into his trousers.
Mairead turned towards the doorway. She saw Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy standing in the entrance, identical expressions of cold, shocked anger on their faces. Mairead scowled down her nose at them.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded arrogantly.
"What are we doing here?"said Narcissa. "What are you doing here?!"
Mairead scoffed. "Get out," she commanded in a snotty voice.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "I would not take such a tone if I were you," he said in a dangerous, silky voice. "Given that you are in my office."
Mairead laughed. "Nice try," she said derisively. "This is his office." Here she nodded towards Remus, who seemed to understand instantly what she was going for and began looking around shiftily and trying to smooth his hair back.
"Err..." he said uncertainly.
Malfoy took one slow, terrifying step into the office. "No," he said softly. "It is mine." He turned and regarded Remus, whose face was the picture of apprehension as he backed slowly away from the desk. "And just who are you?"
Remus gaped wordlessly. "I - I, er..."
"Don't you know?" said Mairead. "That's Lucius Malfoy."
Malfoy's mouth opened in the merest hint of surprise. "It is, is it?" he said silkily. He withdrew his wand.
Remus held up both hands. "Now, darling," he began, voice shaking in a way Remus's never would in reality. "I - I think it might be best if we left, actually."
Mairead looked sharply at Remus. "Why?" she asked suspiciously.
Narcissa Malfoy's already unpleasant face drew back in a sneer. "Because he's lying to you," she said contemptuously. She laid a hand on her husband's shoulder. "This is Lucius Malfoy."
Mairead let a look of comprehension come over her face as she looked back and forth between the Malfoys and Remus, who now looked more afraid of Mairead than of Lucius.
"What?" Mairead demanded. She turned an accusing look on Remus. "Then who the hell are you?"
Remus stammered heavily as he spoke. "N-now, s-sweet one, I - I just w-want to point out that..." Mairead could hear him slipping bits of a Cockney accent similar to that of Mundungus into his voice as he went on. "-that... well, I - s-strictly speaking - I never told you I was Lucius Malfoy. You just assumed I was."
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "And you did not correct her?" he asked. He now sounded almost as though he were enjoying himself.
Remus shrugged. "Well... I - I mean..." he gestured at Mairead - specifically, at her chest - and gave Malfoy a look that clearly said, Can you blame me?
Malfoy was unmoved. "Your name," he said in a commanding voice. "Your real one."
Mairead folded her arms and waited for Remus to give answer.
"Herb," said Remus in a small voice. "M-me friends call me Froggie."
"How did you get into this office?"
Remus reached into his pocket and pulled out the golden key. "I work in the laundry," he said, all vestiges of the London accent now replaced by Cockney. "Been there free weeks now. We get these keys so we can c'llec' the robes from the offices and launder 'em. I di'n't see the 'arm in comin' up 'ere an'... well, I di'n't touch nuffink. Figured you woo'n't even know."
"You have made a grievous error in your... figurin'," said Malfoy, advancing slowly towards Remus.
"The laundry?!" Mairead leapt off the desk and hurled herself at Remus. Before Malfoy could come any closer, she punched Remus in the face as hard as she could. He reeled backwards and crashed into a wall. Hoping desperately that her own assault would waylay Malfoy's, she began pummeling Remus with her fists. "HOW DARE YOU?!" she screeched. "YOU LIED TO ME!"
Remus began whimpering pathetically as he tried to cover his face to fend off her blows.
Mairead aimed a kick at his shins. "I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO HUMILIATED IN ALL MY LIFE!" she howled, scratching at the backs of his hands.
"Lucius," came Narcissa Malfoy's annoyed voice. "Get them out of here. What will the Minister think if he comes up here and sees a brawl in your office?"
Mairead seized Remus by the front of his robes and used all her strength to haul him away from the wall and shove him towards the door. He stumbled, still sniveling and shielding his face with his hands, but headed for the door.
"Yes, get out!" she snarled at him. "Laundry?! You won't be cleaning bathrooms by tomorrow morning!"
"Just a moment."
Malfoy's silky voice, which in all the hubbub had remained calm and cool, broke through the chaos. He laid a hand on Remus's shoulder and restrained him.
"I'd like another word with you."
Mairead hesitated. She had been making things up as she went, but now she didn't know what to do.
She folded her arms. "Yes, call an Auror!" she cried. "Have this... this man arrested!"
Malfoy turned his ice cold eyes on her. "That will do," he said. With a flick of his wand, Mairead felt a mighty force shove her in the direction of the door. She flailed her arms and struggled to keep her feet.
"There is absolutely no reason to manhandle me!" she snapped, eyes flashing. "It's not my fault he's a filthy liar!"
Malfoy regarded her like something unpleasant he had stepped in. Mairead chanced a look over at Remus. While both Malfoys were looking at her, Remus took the opportunity to flick his eyes meaningfully at the door and mouth Go!
She couldn't stand the thought of leaving him alone, but then, she knew that Ophelia would leave. If she stayed, their entire cover story would be blown.
Drawing herself up to her full height and trying to look like she was gathering up the remainder of her dignity, Mairead raised her head high and said, "Very well. Goodnight."
She swept from the room and back towards the lift. She jabbed impatiently at the down button on the lift, fear gripping her heart in a vise. She had no idea how much time had passed, and therefore no idea how many more minutes they had before Remus turned back into Remus. When the lift doors opened, she darted inside. Her finger paused over the buttons. Remus had told her to leave if anything went sideways. Moody had told her to leave if anything went sideways. The entire plan insisted on her leaving if anything went sideways, and everything had gone majorly, horrifically sideways.
Huffing out a breath, Mairead jabbed the button for the Atrium with one hand and reached for her emergency refill of Polyjuice potion with the other.
Once she was back in the Atrium, Mairead tried to walk quickly but nonchalantly back out into the crowd of partygoers. She searched desperately for one of the other Order members in the crowd. Arthur would know what to do, or Kingsley. Her eyes picked out Elphias Doge in his pitch black robes, and she hurried towards him. He looked around in alarm when she grabbed at his sleeve.
"What are you doing?!" he hissed, looking around anxiously. "Where is Remus?"
"He's up in Malfoy's office!" Mairead said fearfully. "We got caught - he got me out and told me to go but he's still there - I don't know what to do!"
Elphias fixed her with a furious glare. "If Remus told you to go, then you go!" he said through his teeth as he flashed a smile at a passing wizard. "Get out! What do you think you're doing fooling with the plan like this?"
Mairead hesitated, but Doge turned her firmly by the shoulders and gave her a subtle but firm shove towards the exit.
Mairead made her way back out of the Ministry in a haze of dread and shock. The mission had failed. Remus was captured. Doge had done nothing. She wasn't sure how she managed to Apparate to the correct alleyway without splinching, but she suddenly found herself walking through the doors of the cinema.
Once inside, her nose was assaulted by bright lights and the overwhelming smell of buttered popcorn. Acid rose in her throat and she made a desperate tear for the bathroom off to the left. She clamped a hand over her mouth and narrowly made it inside the oversize, accessible stall at the very back of the bathroom before her knees gave out, depositing her onto the poorly-washed floor as she vomited violently into the toilet.
Mairead choked on the combination of bile and tears running out of her nose, sobbing in panic. As she clutched at the toilet seat, she saw her skin begin to shift and roil. The sensation of her returning to her natural state brought upon another wave of nausea, and by the time it had passed, she had returned to her regular body.
Clambering clumsily to her feet, Mairead dragged herself through the next steps of the plan. She stripped off her dress robes, left them in a careless pile on the floor of the bathroom stall, and fumbled with the bag of spare clothing that had been left there for her and Remus.
Her cries of anguish renewed themselves at the sight of Remus's soft, well-worn clothing mixed in with her own. She overbalanced twice while changing into her street clothing. She was shoving the dress robes back into the bag with shaking hands when she heard two soft knocks on the stall door.
"It's me," she heard Remus's voice say.
Mouth falling open in disbelief, Mairead struggled with the simple latch for several long seconds before she wrenched the door open and saw Remus standing there, light brown hair mussed, lipstick on the collar of his shirt, and a nasty cut on his left eyebrow.
With a cry, Mairead threw her arms around him. Remus must have been expecting this, because he stood firmly. He guided her backwards into the stall and swung the door closed behind them. Then, he wrapped his arms around her and rocked her gently back and forth.
"It's all right," he murmured soothingly. "Everything's all right. Don't cry."
Mairead pulled back to gaze at him in wonder. She had thought she would never see him again. "Wh- how-?" she stammered.
"In a minute," Remus said. "First: what did we do for the first detention you ever served with me?"
Mairead swallowed past the lump in her throat. "We searched for a Boggart," she said, her voice croaking.
"And the second?" he prompted.
Mairead blinked at him in confusion. "There... there wasn't a second..." she said, brow furrowed.
Remus nodded. "Trick question," he said. "Your turn."
"What was the first book you ever recommended to me?" she asked readily, having already devised the question earlier that day.
"David Copperfield," he said.
"Why did you suggest it?" she asked, feeling like she should also ask a followup question.
"Because you disliked Great Expectations."
Mairead took a deep lungful of air and let it out tremulously. "What happened?" she asked hoarsely. "How did you get away?"
"I'll explain while I change," he said, reaching for the bag with his change of clothes. "We're behind schedule."
"W-we've missed the film," she said uncertainly.
Remus checked his watch. "It's only fifteen past."
Mairead's eyes boggled. "Really?" she breathed. "It... seemed longer."
He paused and frowned sorrowfully at her. "I'm sorry you were frightened," he said softly.
Mairead didn't want to burst out crying again, so she ducked her head and said, "I'll step out and give you some privacy."
Remus stood aside for her to leave and latched the stall door behind her. Mairead went over to the sink and rinsed the residual bile out of her mouth out while he spoke.
"After you left, Malfoy began questioning me," he said. She could hear him shuffling around inside the stall as he changed. "I had to do some pretty quick thinking. Obviously the backstory we'd already concocted was useless. I went with the breadcrumbs you laid - made out I was mostly a no-good layabout who had just managed to get a job on the janitorial staff doing laundry detail. Met a pretty girl while I was returning a bundle of Malfoy's robes, and made like they were mine." Mairead watched the stall door as he spoke. She saw him drape his dress robes over the top of the stall door, a much better place to store expensive robes than the floor, she thought too late.
"Did he buy it?" she asked.
"I'm... not sure," he hesitated. "I think he didn't know whether to believe me or not. It looked like he was trying to determine whether he could get away with killing me just to be on the safe side when Kingsley came along. Said he'd seen two suspicious characters making their way to the lifts and had come to investigate. Malfoy said he'd caught me breaking into his office and Kingsley placed me under arrest and escorted me out."
Mairead's knees felt weak. She leaned against the sink and bent over on watery legs, putting her head between her knees. She sank to the ground. Her head was swimming. There wasn't enough oxygen in the air. She had come so close to losing him...
She heard him unlatch the stall door and hastily straightened, clutching at the sink as the blood rushed away from her head.
"Ready?" he asked. She nodded and followed him out of the bathroom.
She stuck close to his side as he scanned the board behind the clerk's head and ordered two tickets to the nine o'clock showing of The Usual Suspects.
"Previews are playing now, but you should still make the start of the film," said the teenager as he handed them their tickets.
Remus thanked the clerk and handed Mairead one of the tickets. Her head felt fuzzy and full of cotton as she followed him down a velvet cordoned line to a sullen-looking teenage girl with bottle black hair and large amounts of black eye makeup. She tore their tickets and handed them back their stubs, looking supremely bored. "Theatre C," she mumbled, not bothering to take her eyes off the book she was reading. Mairead caught a glimpse of the title. The Bell Jar.
Mairead followed Remus silently down a long hallway as he counted the doors until they reached a set with a large 'C' above it. On either side of the door were posters showing a line up of five frowning men standing beneath a slogan in blood-red letters: "Five Criminals. One Line Up. No Coincidence."
Remus held the door for her and she ducked her head as she walked through. He put his hand on her back and gently guided her to the very back of the theatre. They took their seats just as the film was beginning.
The opening of the film was dark, both in lighting and in content. Mairead stared at the screen, unsure if she was confused because she was not supposed to understand where the film was going yet or because her mind was too tormented to make sense of the fact that, twenty minutes ago she and Remus had come a hair's breadth from dying, and now they were sitting side by side watching a film in a darkened theatre like the dozens of perfectly normal people who surrounded them who probably lived perfectly normal lives.
"Mairead."
She turned her head at the sound of Remus whispering her name. He didn't take his eyes off the screen as he spoke, but in a flare of light from a sudden conflagration in the film, Mairead could see his expression swimming with remorse and repentance. He tilted his head towards her so that he could keep his voice low while still allowing her to hear him.
"There is a very good chance that one or both of us would have been killed this evening were it not for your quick thinking," he said. "You were incredible tonight. I've known for a while now that you know how to think on your feet, but you showed a grace under pressure that I've rarely seen in anyone before."
Mairead wasn't sure how to respond to this, but it appeared he wasn't finished.
"You were right. I underestimated you. I was completely unfair to you. I..." he hesitated, then went on, "I want to be honest with you. I still hate the idea of you endangering yourself. I just want you to be safe. That's all I was trying to do, was to keep you safe. But in so doing I belittled you, treated you like a child, and acted like I thought you were a liability to the Order. That was never my intention, but the effect was the same regardless. I am so sorry for the harm I've caused. I'm so sorry for hurting you."
He looked over at her and, after battling with herself for a long moment, Mairead returned his gaze.
"I do not think you're worthless," he whispered fervently, twisting his body towards hers and reaching a hand over to clutch her wrist. "Just the opposite. You - you're worth - I - Mairead, I -"
Remus broke off and withdrew his hand, turning back to the screen. He was normally so eloquent; Mairead had never seen him speechless before. She wished the theatre were not so dark. She was already at such a disadvantage when it came to reading his emotions. She wished she could at least see his face.
After nearly a minute, he resumed speaking. "I am so sorry I made you feel like you are no more than your disability," he said. "I know from... similar experience how horrible you must have felt after what I said. But it couldn't be farther from the truth. You are not worthless. Don't you see? It's because of how important you are to me that I tried so hard to stop you from going."
He fell silent once again, but Mairead got the impression he was just choosing his next words carefully. Her skin was tingling. She felt herself holding her breath as she waited for him to gather his thoughts.
When he spoke again, Mairead could see the deep frown on his face. "I... I don't want you to think that the... relationship we had at Hogwarts wasn't real," he said carefully. "I didn't treat you the way I treated you because I was being paid to. I did it because... because..." he broke off once again and scratched at his head. He let out a sigh and spoke so softly Mairead had to strain to hear. "I did it because I like you. I've always liked you. And I want you to know me. I want to know you. I'd like to be friends with you. If... if you think you can forgive me, I'd like us to be friends. But I understand if you can't."
Mairead mulled over everything he had said. He admitted that he had underestimated her. He had admitted that he was surprised to find her capable of handling herself. And, while the insult of that still stung, it wasn't anything like the gaping wound of believing he thought her to be useless, just a stupid Squib. And besides, it sounded to Mairead as though he regretted having underestimated her.
What was more, he had just outright declared that he liked her. That she was important to him. Clearly not as anything more than friends, but that was still more than she had thought she'd ever be able to have with him. So what if he didn't feel the same way for her that she did for him? She had never expected him to. Hoped, yes, but never expected. He still wanted to be friends with her.
But did she still want to be friends with him? He's always been good at apologizing, she thought fondly. Then again, thought a more jaded part of her mind, maybe he's had quite a bit of experience doing things that necessitate apologies. Can you really believe what he's saying?
Her mind strayed back to the way she had felt in Malfoy's office, when she had thought that they were both going to die. She remembered the way he had ordered her to take shelter, the way he had stood by the door, prepared to fight to the death for her protection. Would he have done that for someone he thought held no worth?
Yes, the answer came to her immediately. But someone who is willing to make that kind of sacrifice just to protect somebody else, regardless of what he thinks of them... isn't that somebody you'd want to be friends with?
Mairead's mind was made up. She was vaguely surprised it had even taken her this long to come to her decision.
She didn't say anything, but she leaned over and rested her head against Remus's left shoulder. She felt him look down at her in surprise. She didn't look back at him, but she crossed her left arm over her body and curled her hand around the arm she was leaning against, resting her hand in the crook of his elbow. She felt him sigh. After a few minutes of sitting perfectly still, as though worried she would spook and leave if he moved a muscle, Remus tilted his head to rest against hers.
Sirius sat at the kitchen table a few chairs down from Mad-Eye and across from Dumbledore, all three waiting for Remus and Mairead to return. He, Mad-Eye, and Dumbledore had sat by the two receivers, Mad-Eye grumbling every so often, Sirius frequently checking the time, and Dumbledore the picture of calm solemnity. Even though he had been present for the successful testing of the listening devices, when Mairead's voice had come through the first receiver, Sirius hadn't been able to believe his ears. Mad-Eye had smiled his lopsided grin and Dumbledore's eyes had held a terrible, victorious glint as he had sent off a single Phoenix feather: the signal that the device was receiving sound.
The celebrating quickly died off, however, when the second speaker started receiving signal from Malfoy's office. When he had heard Remus's voice - or rather, Remus's tones in the voice of another - telling Mairead that Malfoy and his wife were heading down the corridor, he had gripped the arm of his chair so hard he had been able to hear the wood creak under his fingers. For several harrowing minutes, Sirius had been positive that he was going to bear witness to the sound of his last remaining childhood friend being murdered.
The three men had listened in tense silence as Remus and Mairead quickly concocted a cover story. They had played it off marvelously, but Remus still hadn't been out of the woods when Kingsley had arrived under the pretence of investigating suspicious activity and arrested Remus. Elphias Doge had come by headquarters around half past ten to tell them that Kingsley had gone up at Doge's urging after Mairead had returned to the Atrium to find him, having been forced to leave Remus behind in Malfoy's office.
"Damn fool reckless girl," Doge had grumbled. "She was told that under no circumstances was she to return to the Atrium. She can't follow orders; that much is for sure."
"Yeah, well, that 'damn fool reckless girl' is the reason Remus is still alive," Sirius had snapped. "Show some respect."
"She played a dangerous game, it's true," Moody had acknowledged. "But she played it well."
"Let us all be grateful for the way things worked out," Dumbledore settled the matter.
Doge had left a few minutes earlier, and now Sirius was back to fidgeting in his chair and checking his watch multiple times per minute. The door opened, but it was Arthur and Molly who walked in.
"Any word?" Molly asked.
Sirius shook his head and the two Weasleys joined them in waiting at the table.
"Are the receivers working?" Arthur asked as he took a seat.
"Yep," said Moody. "We'll want to set up some kind of rotating watch on them. Maybe we can devise some kind of alarm that'll alert us when -" He broke off as the door opened once again, and an exhausted-looking Mairead walked in, followed by Remus. Sirius jumped to his feet, filled to bursting with nervous energy.
Walking over to the pair, Sirius embraced Remus and thumped him on the back. Speaking was suddenly difficult, so when he pulled away he merely mussed Mairead's hair affectionately.
"Hey, Sirius," she said in a quiet, tired voice.
"Hey, Gryffindor," Sirius croaked painfully.
Despite the heavy emotions Sirius was feeling, he didn't miss the look of overt adoration in Remus's eyes as he smiled warmly down at Mairead.
"Were you followed?" Moody asked, all business as usual.
"No," said Remus, looking away from Mairead and over at the Order members around the table. "I'm as certain as I can be of that. But we'll need to work up some fake paperwork for a Ministry employee. We had to change our cover story mid-mission."
"Already done and in place," said Moody briskly. "We got started on them as soon as we heard you get safely out of Malfoy's office."
"Yeah, Froggie's going to resign very suddenly tomorrow morning," said Sirius, the ghost of a grin tugging at his lips.
"Poor Froggie," Mairead mumbled with a tiny, shy smile on her face. "Can't catch a break."
"Well, he is an opportunistic conman," Remus shrugged, grinning crookedly at her.
Mairead laughed under her breath. Sirius couldn't help but notice the way her cheeks turned pink at the attention she was receiving from Remus. Now that the danger had passed, Sirius couldn't resist having his fun with the two of them.
"Yeah, we heard everything that went on in Malfoy's office," he said, casually slipping his hands into his pockets.
"So the devices are working well, then?" asked Remus.
"Oh, yeah, they work great, just great," Sirius confirmed. "They're only sound, though, no visuals, so we were curious... what exactly were the two of you doing right before Malfoy and his wife came into the office?"
He couldn't quite suppress a devious grin as Mairead's eyes widened in panic and she and Remus exchanged a nervous, guilt-ridden look.
"Er," she said, "we... erm..."
"That was an excellent film, by the way," supplied Remus.
"Yes!" Mairead seized on the change of topic. "Really good. Really... really excellent. Did you see that ending coming?"
"I did not."
"Erm, well, I'm tired, may I please go?" Mairead asked Dumbledore.
"You are dismissed," Dumbledore said, bowing his head. "Thank you both very much for your work tonight. I cannot impress upon you enough how very pivotal I believe these devices will be to our cause. The entire Order owes you a debt of gratitude."
"Aww, look," said Sirius teasingly. "Gryffindor's gone scarlet."
Mairead wouldn't look anyone in the eye as she smiled vaguely and quickly left the room. One of Sirius's eyebrows twitched as he watched Remus's gaze linger on the door she had left through.
"I'll lock up after her," said Molly, pushing herself to her feet.
The remaining Order members stayed and chatted for a while after Mairead left, but their numbers soon dwindled as Dumbledore made his farewell and the Weasleys, tired from their evening at the Ball, went upstairs to bed.
"Well, guess I'd better be off, too," said Moody after a huge, jaw-cracking yawn that made his scarred face look even more distorted. "Sirius, you'll keep an ear out on those devices, yeah?"
"Definitely," said Sirius, nodding. "'Night, Mad-Eye."
The door closed behind Moody, leaving only Sirius and Remus. Sirius looked over at his best friend, who had grown more and more quiet while the others around him had talked. He had sat down at the kitchen table and was now hunched over a glass of water on the tabletop, staring into it, lost in thought.
"What is it, Moony?" asked Sirius.
Remus hesitated, twirling the glass of water in his long fingers. "We almost died tonight, Sirius," he said softly.
"I know," Sirius said solemnly. God, do I know.
Remus took a few breaths. "Mairead - she was... a breath away from dying tonight." He frowned deeply at the glass of water. After several long moments, he looked up at Sirius, a tortured expression in his eyes. "I almost got her killed tonight."
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "No, Malfoy almost got her killed tonight," he said. "You were ready to go down fighting for her."
Remus let his hands fall with a loud clap onto the table, shoved his chair back, and stood. "That's precisely it!" he exclaimed, beginning to pace back and forth across the kitchen. "That's the problem. Mairead saved us. She preserved the secrecy of the Order. She saved the mission."
Sirius watched Remus pace until he felt dizzy following him with his eyes. "What's the problem?" he asked, perplexed. "Are - are you saying you're jealous of her?"
Remus sighed in frustration. "Of course not," he said.
"Are you upset because you turned out to be wrong about her ability to hold her own on a mission?"
"No."
"Then what's your point?"
Remus stopped in front of Sirius, a slightly wild look in his eyes. "My point is," he said, "when we were in Malfoy's office, I didn't think about preserving the Order. I didn't think about saving the mission. All I thought about was..." he trailed off, looking ashamed.
"What did you think about?" Sirius prompted. Though he was almost certain what Remus had been thinking about at the time, he was done filling in the gaps for him. It was high time Remus said the words himself.
Remus stared at the ground, his breathing labored. "All I thought about was saving her," he admitted in a whisper. "I didn't care about anything else. Just her."
Sirius nodded. "Why?" was all he said.
Remus closed his eyes. He reached a hand up and rubbed his face, a move Sirius knew from years of experience was not only to self-soothe, but to hide emotions he couldn't control well enough in the moment to keep off his face.
Finally, after an exceedingly lengthy, pregnant pause, Remus lowered his hand and opened his eyes.
"Because you're right," he admitted softly. "I have fallen for her."
Author's Note: Well? Do you forgive him (and, by extension, me)? He *was* prepared to die for her, after all. And are you happy he finally copped to it? What did you think overall? Did I do okay writing a tense, spy thriller-y sequence? Because honestly, that was a first for me. Please let me know!
Song for Chapter 10: "Wild Heart," by Bleachers (Remus)
