Author's Note: Thank you to Mercymadness and GraceMonroe for your reviews! I haven't responded to your reviews yet because this weekend is going to be bananas busy and I wanted to make sure to get the next chapter up. But I will respond as soon as I am able and please know that I appreciate you! 3
Just a quick disclaimer that this chapter lifts dialogue directly from Chapter 9 of Ootp and Chapter 17 of PoA, which are both copyright of J.K. Rowling. Also, trans women are women and trans rights are human rights.
So honestly, I'm not sure whether you all are going to love me or hate me for the next two chapters. I guess there's only one way to find out! Onward!
Chapter Thirteen: Catharsis and Cacoethes
Sirius leaned his chair back on two legs as he watched Mairead bite her lip while carefully measuring flour into a cup.
"You know, unless you serve these to him naked, he's not going to get the hint, Gryffindor," he remarked casually as Mairead tapped her hand against the side of a sieve, watching the flour fall through it like a heavy snowfall.
She turned sharply towards him, spilling flour onto the kitchen table. Her eyes were wide and she frantically shushed him as the kitchen door opened and Molly, Ginny, and Hermione walked in.
"Why don't you ever ask the boys to help make lunch?" Ginny groused, trudging over to the pantry and pulling out loaves of bread.
"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Molly snapped. "You know perfectly well that none of us would put anything in our mouths that Fred or George prepared."
Mairead and Sirius exchanged a glance and silently sided with Molly on this one.
"Ooh, what are you making, Mairead?" Hermione asked eagerly, approaching the table to watch Mairead add salt to the top of the mound of flour.
"Brownies," answered Mairead. She pointed to the baking powder, which was at Hermione's right hand, and the younger witch handed the bottle to her.
"Why?" asked Ginny.
Mairead shrugged, her cheeks turning a delicate pink. "I wanted to do something nice for Professor Lupin," she said, measuring out cocoa powder. Sirius's eyebrow twitched at her return to formalities - a clear attempt at seeming less emotionally invested than she really was. "Tonight's the full moon, and Sirius mentioned he likes chocolate, so -" She was saved from providing any further justification when she dumped the cocoa powder into the bowl and a brown cloud puffed up into her face, sending her into a coughing fit.
"That's so nice!" Ginny said. "Can I help?
"Absolutely!" said Mairead, voice still tight from coughing. She nodded her head towards another bowl sitting further down the table. "Why don't you measure the wet ingredients into there?"
Ginny looked at her blankly. "I don't know how to bake," she said.
Mairead gaped at the other ginger. "Really?! Your mum is the best cook in the entire world and you never picked any of that up?"
"Nope," Ginny said unabashedly, looking over the recipe curiously.
Molly, who was preening at the compliment, turned away from the soup she was ladling into bowls and said, "I think it would be an excellent skill for you to learn, dear." Her eyes twinkled knowingly as she added, "After all, the best way to a man's heart is through his stomach."
Ginny turned bright pink, and Sirius's mouth twitched curiously. Who's she talking about? he wondered. Sirius pondered this in silence as Mairead showed Ginny a Transfiguration spell to melt butter instantly. He had just begun to wonder if the youngest Weasley might not carry a flame for his godson when the kitchen door opened again and Arthur, Mad-Eye, and Remus filed into the kitchen, ready for lunch.
"Isn't that right, dear?" Molly asked Arthur.
"What's that, Molly?" asked Arthur as he walked over to his wife and dropped a kiss onto her cheek.
"Isn't the best way to a man's heart through his stomach?" Molly asked. Sirius suppressed a grin at the look of squirming embarrassment on Mairead's face as she resolutely refused to look at Remus, who had strolled over to her side, the picture of nonchalance, and was watching her melt bits of chocolate in the hot butter.
Mad-Eye grunted doubtfully. "In my experience the best way to a man's heart is through his left armpit," he said. "If you can manage to slip in between the ribs, there's virtually nothing standing between you and the heart muscle."
Mairead's hand dropped the spoon and clamped over her mouth as she fought not to laugh. She looked up in surprise and met Remus's gaze. The two shared a moment of silent mirth, Mairead's eyes wide and guiltily delighted and Remus's face perfectly impassive, save for the subtle wink he gave Mairead.
Remus reached out a hand and swiped a chunk of chocolate from a nearby bowl.
"What are these for?" he asked, and Sirius smirked. He mused that Mairead might be the only thing in the world that Remus craved more than chocolate.
Mairead swatted playfully at his hand as he stole a second piece of chocolate. "They're for tomorrow," she said sternly.
"Oh, because it's the last day of the summer holidays?" Remus asked, stealing another chocolate chunk before Mairead dumped the remainder into the batter.
"...No," she admitted softly, not looking at him.
Remus waited patiently for her to explain. Sirius wished he had a bowl of popcorn right now.
"What's tomorrow?"
Mairead's face turned a deep shade of red as she shyly murmured, "It's the day after the full moon."
Remus looked at her, comprehension dawning on his face. "Are you making these for me?" he asked softly, sounding touched.
Clearly trying to save face, Mairead pointedly pushed the bowl of brownie batter away from him and said, "If you keep your hands off them until tomorrow, then yes." Remus cocked an eyebrow and smirked at the challenge, then reached around her, dipped a finger into the batter, and stuck it in his mouth. Mairead's mouth fell open in mock indignation and she aimed another swipe at him, which he nimbly dodged. "But if you don't stop poking and prodding and picking at them, then I'm going to eat the whole lot of them tonight right in front of you while you're writhing in agony and turning into a werewolf."
Sirius couldn't suppress a grin as he watched the two of them. Go get him, Gryffindor, he thought.
Remus grinned wolfishly at Mairead. "Fine," he said, lowering his voice to a seductive growl and leaning closer to her. "Then right after that I'll eat you right in front of you while you're writhing in agony and turning into my midnight snack."
Mairead smirked at him, unfazed. She reached up to push her ponytail of hair behind her, smearing her bare shoulder with brownie batter as she did. "I'll still have eaten the brownies and you'll still have had none," she reasoned.
Remus shrugged, unconcerned. "Only until I get to the contents of your stomach."
Sirius could tell that Remus was watching Mairead carefully, gauging her reaction.
She let out a surprised laugh, wrinkling her nose. "Eww!"
Remus's eyebrows flew up. "I just threatened to eat you alive and your reaction is 'eww'?"
Mairead made a face. "Brownies covered in bits of me sound disgusting."
Remus held her gaze daringly for a few moments. Sirius realized that his friend was mere inches away from Mairead, a thought which seemed to have just now occurred to Mairead, as well. He noticed that her breath was becoming short as she stared, unblinkingly, into the werewolf's eyes. Remus lifted a hand, not breaking eye contact, and with a single finger, he slowly, slowly wiped the bit of chocolate off Mairead's shoulder. Mairead watched, mouth slightly open, as Remus raised the finger to his mouth and sucked it clean. Her eyes widened and her breath hitched. Sirius saw her eyes flick, almost imperceptibly, down to Remus's lips. She swallowed.
Remus's voice was a low growl when he spoke again. "I actually find the combination to be rather enticing."
With that, he turned and walked over to Molly, offering to help with lunch in his usual mild, pleasant voice.
Sirius looked over at Mairead once more and found her leaning heavily on the table, gasping for air. Sirius smirked. She looked thoroughly turned on.
Sirius couldn't decide what about their interaction he had found most intriguing: the fact that Remus was now openly flirting with Mairead, the heart attack that Mairead appeared to be having right in front of him, or the fact that Sirius had never seen Remus so comfortable joking about his lycanthropy as he just was. He had certainly made dark jokes about it before, and had patiently endured the teasing, ribbing, and heavy hints as to his condition that Sirius and James had subjected him to with good humor, but there had always been a tension - in his eyes, in the set of his jaw, in the tenor of his voice - that was notably absent from his flirtation with Mairead. Sirius had never seen Remus seem so... at peace with his condition before.
He watched the two of them interact as the household settled down to a lunch of soup and sandwiches. Remus had once again snagged a seat right next to Mairead, and he regularly leaned down throughout the meal to speak quietly in her ear, making her laugh or respond enthusiastically with whatever he was murmuring to her.
She would be so fucking good for you, Moony, he thought.
He could only hope that Mairead had the moxie his best friend clearly lacked.
Mairead tamped down the soil lightly over the seeds she had just planted. The growing season for Moly was quite short, and that meant that a second harvest could be had by planting more seeds in August. She was getting rather a late start - seeing as September began in two days - but she hoped that the weather would be mild enough to allow her to eke out another harvest of the healing flower.
She had to admit that she was enjoying staying at Grimmauld Place. She did not have as much privacy as she was accustomed to, but she could check on her potions and garden at her leisure, such as now, when the sun had gone down and the heat of the day had finally ebbed.
Mairead wiped her hands on the backs of her dungarees and looked up at the sky anxiously. The moon would be rising soon, and Remus would presently find out whether the Wolfsbane Potion had worked. She squeezed her eyes shut and said a silent prayer - though a prayer to whom, she did not know - that it would work.
Deciding that she would like a cup of tea to take with her to her bedroom, Mairead packed up her things and made the trek all the way from the top of the house to the very bottom.
She tried not to linger on Remus's floor as she went down the stairs. She knew perfectly well that he was not in his bedroom, anyway. He would spend the night at his own home, a cottage in a remote part of Yorkshire.
Though the way Remus had described his house to her made it sound as though the house were barely standing up on its own, Mairead couldn't help but imagine a quaint, cozy stone cottage with smoke curling out of a chimney, honeysuckle and lilac growing up its sides. Her feet paused on the stairs as she imagined Christmases at this cottage, snow-covered, still, and peaceful; springtimes with daffodils poking their heads up along a cobblestone pathway, ducks waddling around the front yard, along with two or three children with light brown hair playing in the yard; she imagined Remus standing at the window, sipping at a cup of tea and looking out on a woman working in the garden, his grey eyes gleaming with that special warm light; she imagined Remus setting down his cup of tea, sneaking out the door, and slipping his arms around the woman from behind, kissing her neck as she smiled and leaned back into his embrace, reaching an arm up and ruffling his hair affectionately.
The dopey, blissful smile faded from Mairead's face. The only problem was, the woman she imagined was never her.
Sometimes it was the blonde woman Mairead had masqueraded as for the Minister's Ball. Oftentimes it was Tonks. But Mairead could never imagine herself in Remus's arms. Despite what Sirius had told her, she still could not believe that someone as incredible as Remus would ever want her. Out of all the women in the entire world he could choose from, why exactly would she think he would ever, ever pick her?
This thought weighed heavily on Mairead's mind as she descended the staircase to the basement kitchen. All of her efforts to help Remus and make his transformation more comfortable - staying up for two nights brewing the Wolfsbane Potion for him, making him brownies, preparing to rise early the next morning so that she could have a hot breakfast awaiting him in his room when he returned - all of it now struck her as pathetic: the pitiful, desperate work of a silly, childish girl who was frantically trying to get an older, immeasurably desirable man to notice her.
She was feeling quite sorry for herself as she opened the kitchen door, and she was so lost in her own sense of self-pity that she crashed right into the only other person in the kitchen.
"Oh!" she cried in surprise. "I'm so sor-"
She broke off and stumbled backwards.
She had just run straight into Harry Potter.
"Harry. Sorry," she said, feeling embarrassment and the beginnings of panic lick at her.
To her surprise, though, Harry looked just as uncomfortable as she felt.
"Oh, er, sorry, Mairead," he mumbled, ducking his head. "I - I'll just..."
He started to step around her, but as he did Mairead took a sharp look at his face. She had worked very hard over the past month never to be this close to him, and so this was the first she had noticed the tension in the set of his mouth, the wariness in his emerald eyes, the way he clenched and unclenched his hands into fists, almost compulsively.
She acted impulsively as he made for the door, keeping a promise she had made to Remus weeks ago.
"Hey," she said. Harry stiffened as though he had been caught sneaking out his window, his shoulders and arms coming in towards his body. He did, however, turn once again and meet her eye. She swallowed once, then twice. "Are, erm... are you okay?" she asked hesitantly.
For just a moment, the polite yet brittle shell he had in place wavered, and Mairead saw without a doubt in her mind that he most certainly was not okay.
"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks," he said.
Mairead blinked. "Oh, okay," she breathed.
Harry waited, clearly expecting something more from her.
"Erm... good luck," she said at last. "With the start to your year. Fifth, isn't it?" Harry nodded. "Yeah, so, erm, good luck with that. If I don't see you. Which, y'know, I mean, I guess I will, 'cause I'm going to be driving you to the train station, but, erm, just in case there, like, isn't time, or something. I - I just wanted to... yeah. Good luck."
Harry's mouth tightened in a valiant effort at a smile. "Thanks," he said, looking awkward.
Mairead cleared her throat nervously and tried to return the smile, but couldn't quite bring herself to.
Harry reached a hand up and scratched his messy black hair. "Hey, er, you're friends with Sirius, right?" he asked.
Mairead frowned, caught off-guard by his sudden question. "Yes," she said slowly.
Harry looked away from her. "Could you -" he began, "I mean, if you wouldn't mind... would you just... check in on him? From time to time? After we're all gone and the house is empty again?"
Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, star Quidditch player, and one of the biggest celebrities in the entire history of the wizarding world, folded his arms across his chest in a protective gesture, and without warning, for the very first time, Mairead saw his humanity. All at once, it occurred to her that she was not looking at a superhero but at a teenage boy. One who - it was suddenly so obvious to her - wanted the notoriety and history that had followed him his entire life just about as much as she wanted her own notoriety and history.
Shame enveloped her in its hot, sticky embrace. For all of her griping and complaining about the premature judgments and presumptuous treatment she had to endure in wizarding society, she had been spectacularly quick to turn around and treat Harry with exactly the same prejudice she felt was so unfair when applied to her.
She swallowed painfully and felt herself giving him a tremulous smile. "Of course I'll check in on Sirius," she said, voice trembling slightly.
Harry's shoulders relaxed almost infinitesimally. "Thanks," he said, turning to go once more. To Mairead's surprise, however, he tuned back to her, looking as though he had something shameful to admit to her.
He just stood there breathing for a few moments before he finally said in a tight voice, "I'm sorry. About Cedric."
Mairead became aware of a ringing in her ears. "I am, too," she whispered, unable to speak any louder.
Harry shifted on his feet restlessly. "No, I mean -" he broke eye contact and looked off to the side, the shameful expression more evident now. His lips spasmed. "You were friends with him, weren't you?"
Mairead nodded, throat too tight to speak.
Harry was looking more at her stocking feet than at her face now. "Yeah, so I'm sorry," he said, his voice gruffer than she had ever heard it before. "As it's my fault he's dead."
Mairead's mouth went slack and she blinked rapidly at him. "What - what do you mean?" she asked.
Harry's intense green eyes finally met hers again. "He never would've been there if it hadn't been for me," he said bitterly. "He's dead because of me."
"Cedric is dead because of Peter Pettigrew. Just because you were there, that doesn't make you guilty." Mairead said the words without thinking, but as she said them, she realized that they were true. She had been blaming Harry for Cedric's death, and it wasn't until the boy had faced her to take responsibility that the unfairness of this occurred to her.
"But he was there because of me!" Harry snapped.
"He was there because of Barty Crouch," Mairead said patiently. "You both were."
Harry's face contorted with fury. "Yeah, but it was a trap set for ME! I WAS THE TARGET! I WAS THE ONE WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE KILLED! But I told Cedric to take the cup with me because I'm an idiot and now he's dead."
Mairead's heart began to pound as Harry raised his voice. She clenched her fists and shut her eyes briefly as her old fear of angry men resurfaced. She took a few deep breaths. Being afraid wouldn't help Harry, and the logical part of her brain knew that Harry was in desperate need of some help. When she opened her eyes, she saw that Harry was looking guilty for his outburst.
"I wasn't there," she began slowly, trying to imitate the calming tone that Remus would use whenever she became distraught. "But I have a hard time believing you told Cedric to take the cup with you because you're an idiot. Based on everything that everyone has told me about you, I think it far more likely that you told Cedric to take the cup with you because you're an honorable person."
Harry scowled and suddenly made for the table. Mairead sucked in a breath and prepared herself for another display of violence as Harry pulled out a chair and cocked his leg back as if to kick it, but he shot a glare at her as he did so and stopped just short at what he saw.
He laughed darkly. "Yeah, really honorable," he growled. "Scaring the hell out of you."
"I'm fine," said Mairead, though her voice trembled somewhat. "It's just - sometimes loud noises, they... I'm - I'm working on it, but I'm not a perfect person."
Mairead's confession seemed to act like pulling the plug on Harry's temper. The anger appeared to drain out of him and he shoved his hands into his pockets, staring guiltily at the ground. "Sorry," he mumbled.
"Also not your fault," Mairead said under her breath.
Harry shook his head. "It should've been just me. It was supposed to be just me."
Mairead pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Why did you tell him to take the cup with you? And you're not allowed to say it's because you're an idiot," she added as he opened his mouth.
"Because... because he'd won," Harry said. "We were running for the cup, but this Acromantula came out and it got my leg. We took care of it, but I could barely walk after."
"So then what happened?" Mairead asked.
Harry's eyebrows twitched unhappily as he remembered. "I told Cedric to go get the cup. But he wouldn't do it. He wouldn't leave me there."
He paused as a hiccough escaped Mairead. She clamped a hand to her mouth and tried not to lose it completely. After she had regained a bit of control, she gave him a watery smile and said, "That sounds like Cedric."
Harry nodded. "He was the honorable one," he said. "He said I deserved to win. He just - he wouldn't take the cup. He wanted to walk and let me take it." He stopped speaking and his face screwed up in pain. "I should've just let him walk. But I insisted."
Mairead twitched her nose, fighting against her tears. "You insisted that you share the victory," she said, voice trembling violently. "He wouldn't have taken that cup alone anymore than you would have."
"But it was my idea to take it together!" Harry insisted, voice cracking.
Mairead smiled sadly. "It was a good idea," she said.
"How can you say that?" Harry snapped.
Mairead gave him a look. "Did you know that the cup was a Portkey?" she asked.
"No."
"What did you think would happen if you took it together?"
"I - I thought we'd share the victory."
"Share the victory, share the glory, share the winnings, share the spotlight?"
Harry nodded.
Mairead shrugged. "It sounds like it was a good idea to me," she said.
Harry glared at her.
She sighed. "Harry," she said tenderly, "you made the best decision you could with the information you had at the time. What came next was the work of a terrible monster. I know: I've met him. This has his marks all over it."
Harry, who had been staring at the ground, shook his head stubbornly. "It doesn't matter. Cedric's dead, and he would be alive if I had only listened to him."
In the back of Mairead's mind, it vaguely occurred to her how turned around this situation had gotten. Harry had come to her to apologize for the pain he perceived himself as causing her and she had wound up supporting him. The same thought seemed to have dawned on Harry at the same moment, because he laughed ruefully and said, "Look at me: laying my problems at your feet when you've got to be suffering way worse than I am over this."
Mairead smiled sadly. "That's not very fair to you," she argued gently. "Humans don't experience suffering in perspective; we experience it in context."
Harry didn't answer, so she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his bony shoulders. He started in surprise, and his arms remained at his sides.
"You're a really good person," she murmured to him, laying her head on his shoulder. "And -" she had to pause for a moment as a fresh wave of grief slapped her across the face. "And... Cedric was r-really lucky to have you as a f-friend. I know you don't see that now, but... but Harry, you need to forgive yourself for what happened. It wasn't your fault. Nobody blames you for Cedric's death but you. And no one can absolve you of your guilt but you. I'm... I'm s-so grateful... that Cedric had such a - such a good person by his side at the end. Please... please don't let his death destroy you."
She had to stop speaking then because it became too difficult. She was about to pull away, not wanting to cry all over Harry's shirt, but just as she released him, she felt his hands lift up, and tentatively rest on her back. She held as still as she could, and the next thing she knew, Harry had wrapped his arms tightly around her and had sagged slightly against her. She could feel him breathing raggedly, and she could hear him breathing through his mouth as though trying not to sniffle. She rocked him from side to side, saying nothing, until he eventually pulled away.
Mairead ducked her head to give Harry a chance to do what he needed to do to save face. When she looked back up at him, his eyes were rimmed with red, but he looked calmer, less anguished.
"Thanks," he said.
Mairead smiled at the boy she had put so much energy into avoiding, and decided that she actually quite liked him.
"Anytime."
Remus held a glass of water in one hand and held tightly to the railing with the other as he painfully climbed the steps out of the basement kitchen at Grimmauld Place. Once he got to the top, he drained the glass of water and immediately wished for another. The thought of ascending all the way to his room was enough to make him dizzy.
It felt as though it took him twenty minutes to reach the landing his bedroom resided on, and when he finally reached his door he rested his head against the wood for a few moments before turning the knob and stepping inside.
An unexpected but mouthwatering smell reached his nose as soon as he entered his bedroom. Looking around, he saw a tray had been left for him on the desk across the room from his bed. He limped over to it and saw that the tray included a plate piled high with scrambled eggs, bangers, and a small mountain of toast. Two dishes next to the plate contained butter and jam, and a bowl on the opposite side of the tray was filled to the brim with strawberries. In the upper left-hand corner of the tray there was a cup of tea, and he could tell just from the aroma that it was fixed exactly how he liked it. But that was not all that was on his desk. Right next to the tray, there was an entire plate of dark brown, gooey-looking brownies. Right at that moment, however, Remus's hand reached for the best of all the things that had been left for him: a full jug of water and an empty glass.
Remus filled himself a new glass of water and gulped it down. He sighed in satisfaction when he had drained the glass. The water was refreshing and cold. He looked at the jug and saw it refilling with water on its own. It must have been charmed to replenish itself automatically.
Not trusting himself to carry the things that had been left for him, Remus pulled out his wand and levitated them over to his bed, climbed in, and began ravenously eating. Molly outdid herself this time, he thought. One sip of the tea, though, and he realized that he had been wrong. Molly had not prepared this for him; Mairead had.
He swallowed and tried not to think about Mairead being in his room; the thought was too enticing. He did, however, brood over what exactly he had done to deserve this kind of care and attention from her. Not only had she brewed him Wolfsbane Potion - which had mercifully worked, not quite as well as Snape's always had, but Remus would never breathe a word of that to anyone - but she had devoted what must have been hours of her day to preparing all of this for him. He didn't know how he could begin to thank her for her kindness.
Mairead's first successful attempt at Wolfsbane Potion may not have been as masterful as Snape's, but when combined with the effects of the warm, filling meal, the endless supply of fresh water, and the decadent dessert, the result was that Remus settled down into bed knowing that this would be the fastest recovery from the full moon he had experienced since leaving Hogwarts.
Remus was blinking in and out of consciousness when he heard a soft knock at his door. Before he could answer, the door opened and Mairead poked her head into the room.
"All right if I join you?" she asked.
"Mairead!" Remus said, struggling to sit up in bed. He would have liked to have risen to greet her, but at the moment he was not sure whether he could stand on his own steam.
Mairead slipped into the room and closed the door. Remus couldn't help but stare at her. She was wearing a simple white dress, and her hair was tied back in the same messy updo he must have seen her wear at least a hundred times, but he had never before noticed the way the tendrils of escaped hair framed her pretty face, how wearing her hair up showed off the graceful line of her throat.
"Thank you so much for the tray, Mairead," he said, his voice coming out rough and painful. "It was so thoughtful of you - you didn't have to do that."
Mairead smiled in a way Remus had never seen her smile before. "Ready for dessert?" she asked, slowly walking towards him.
Remus smiled a bit guiltily. "Oh - I didn't know I was supposed to wait," he admitted. "I've already eaten two of them."
Mairead laughed, continuing towards him. "That's not what I meant."
Remus tilted his head to one side. "Oh? What did you mean?"
A corner of Mairead's lovely mouth turned up. She was at the side of his bed now, and instead of answering, she climbed up beside him. Remus's eyes widened in shock as Mairead swung a leg over his hips, straddling him.
"Mairead," he said hoarsely. "What are you -"
He broke off as it became exceedingly clear what Mairead was doing. She wound her arms around his shoulders, leaned in, and pressed her lips to his.
Remus couldn't help the moan that escaped him. Mairead's chest was pressed against his. Her hair was tickling his face. And as she moved her lips against his, she began gyrating her hips, grinding against him.
He could feel his body responding to hers, but halfheartedly tried to regain some control of the situation. Pulling away from her, he looked into her dark green eyes and was awestruck by the lust and determination he saw in them.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
She blinked, a hurt expression crossing her features. "Don't you want me?" she murmured.
Remus stared at her. "God, yes, I want you," he whispered, closing the distance between them and capturing her lips with his own.
The kiss quickly turned frantic. Mairead clutched at his shirt and his hair, rocking her hips, and Remus grasped her thighs on either side of his and stroked the fabric of her skirt. His hips began surging up to meet hers, matching her rhythm automatically.
Mairead pulled away a little and took hold of his wrists, tugging them away from her legs. Remus let her do what she pleased and thought that he would die of pleasure when she guided his hands up to cup her breasts.
"Touch me here," she breathed.
Remus let out a shaky breath and gently massaged her breasts. She threw her head back and moaned wantonly.
It was then that something caught his eye. Remus looked down and let out a cry of surprise. Mairead raised her head and looked where he was looking.
"Your skirt!" he exclaimed. "I'm so sorry!"
There were filthy handprints all over her dress where Remus had touched her. He lifted his hands from her breasts and saw that he had left marks there, too. Turning his hands up, Remus was mystified to find them clean and free of the sooty grime that he was spreading all over Mairead's clothing.
He looked up at Mairead in bewilderment. "I've ruined your dress," he said, feeling ashamed of destroying something so pure and flawless.
Mairead shrugged. "Perhaps you should take it off, then," she suggested.
Remus didn't need telling twice. His hands raced for the hem of her dress. Mairead lifted her arms over her head to make the garment easier to remove. Remus dropped the soiled dress over the side of his bed, looked back at Mairead, and felt his heart stop.
She was wearing nothing underneath the dress.
She was perfect. Remus swallowed thickly and felt his cock twitch underneath her body, now separated only by his own clothing.
Remus sat stunned for a few moments before he realized that he was gaping, open-mouthed, at her breasts. Blinking hard, he closed his mouth and looked back up at Mairead, who smiled at him and leaned in to kiss him again.
"Take me," she whispered against his lips.
Instinct took over. Remus flipped the two of them over so that Mairead was beneath him. She willingly opened her legs. He wasn't sure when he had divested his clothing, but he really couldn't be bothered to care at the moment. He stared into Mairead's eyes and saw his own desire and longing reflected back at him.
Then, he lined himself up against her slick entrance, and in one smooth movement sheathed himself inside.
Remus pulled his hips back almost all the way, then thrust into her again.
"More," she moaned, bucking her hips.
Remus lost his mind. He thrust wildly into her, lost in his own pleasure. He leaned down and kissed his way from her lips across her cheek, up her jawline, then down her throat, stopping where her neck met her shoulder.
He had only meant to kiss her - had thought he was only kissing her - but then Mairead let out a scream of pain and fear.
Remus pulled away and gasped.
He had bitten her. Hard. He had broken the skin and could see her bleeding freely from the wound he had opened in her throat.
His eyes met hers, and he saw that the desire had been fully replaced by fear and revulsion.
Mairead broke eye contact with him, looked down at their two bodies, and shrieked again. Remus followed her gaze and cried out in shock.
Fur was sprouting out of her skin wherever it touched his.
Remus pulled out of her and skittered as far away from her as he could, but the damage was done: Mairead's body was rapidly being consumed by grey fur. She clutched at her face and Remus saw her open her own skin with claws, sharp like daggers, emerging from where her hands had been, where now there were only paws.
She looked over at him, covered in fur, bleeding heavily from the scratches on her face as well as from the bite on her throat.
"What have you done?" she sobbed. "What have you done to me?!"
"Mairead, please -" he tried, but she cut him off.
"Get away from me!" she screamed. "Don't touch me, werewolf!"
Remus reached for her, panic-stricken, but found only sheets and blanket.
His eyes snapped open.
He jumped violently and frantically searched the bed for Mairead.
She wasn't there. What was there was a mess of his leftover breakfast, which hadn't been there when Mairead had been with him but which was now smeared all over the duvet.
Remus tried to scramble to his feet but was stopped by shooting pain in his back, arm, and leg muscles. It occurred to him then that he hadn't noticed any pain when he had been having impressively athletic sex with Mairead moments before.
He glanced over the side of the bed where he had dropped her dress. There was nothing there.
Slowly, sluggishly, Remus's sense of reality returned. It had been a dream. No - it had been a nightmare. He collapsed against the headboard of his bed and gasped for air, only now aware of how rapidly his heart was beating.
As he calmed down and his fear abated, anger took its place. These dreams had gone well past unruly and had now firmly lodged themselves in out of hand. He wanted to punch something, but lacked the energy. These kinds of dreams were supposed to go away now that the full moon was past. It wasn't uncommon for Remus to experience raunchy dreams in the week preceding the full moon, but they normally abated as soon as the full was over.
How was he supposed to go on living like this? He couldn't do without sleep, especially right after the moon. But how could he expect to get any rest when every time he closed his eyes, he saw Mairead?
His mind strayed back to the way she had looked the day before in the kitchen. Her hair had been tied back as in his dream, and - she clearly had a preference for Muggle clothing - she had been wearing an extremely flattering pair of denims and another vest top, baring her shoulders - her chocolate-smeared shoulders - to his view. Her feet had been bare, and for some reason this had made Remus want to fall to his knees. He remembered the way she had looked at him, smiled at him, easily joked with him about his condition as if she couldn't care less that a werewolf was standing right next to her. As if there was nothing at all wrong with him. And then, after he had threatened to eat her entrails, she had happily sat down right next to him and shared a meal with him, completely unaware of the threat he posed to her safety. The thought both made him want to run as fast and as far away from her as he possibly could, and to pull her into his arms and never let her go.
But then, everything about her made him want to pull her into his arms and never let her go.
With a snarl of frustration, Remus realized what a fool he had been. He had let her get close when what he should have done was to keep her away. She had always been exceptionally skilled at finding ways past the walls he had built. He remembered that this had been a problem even when they had been at Hogwarts. He had known the right course of action then, too, and yet he hadn't followed it.
But then, just as Mairead had always been exceptionally skilled at getting close to him, Remus had always been exceptionally skilled at talking himself into doing precisely what he wanted to do, regardless of how wrong it was.
He sighed and bumped his head against the back of his headboard. He should have headed this off from the start, but now it was too late. His own feelings mattered little, but - though he could not understand why - it was clear that Mairead had become attached to him. He could not withdraw from her without hurting her, which was exactly what he aimed to avoid.
There was nothing more to it, really: he had to stay close to her. She was obviously suffering from the loss of Cedric. He couldn't bear the thought of her losing someone else she considered to be a friend just because he was losing a little sleep here and there.
He wasn't being selfish continuing to have a relationship with Mairead; he was being a good friend. Really, the selfish thing would be to break things off at this point. He needed to continue to be proximal to her. For her own good.
Satisfied that he had come to a resolution, Remus reached for his wand and vanished the spilled remains of the breakfast she had made for him. Setting his wand down on his bedside table, where it would be within easy reach, Remus slid beneath the covers, closed his eyes, and in less than a minute had drifted back off to sleep.
Yes, Remus had always been exceptionally skilled at talking himself into doing precisely what he wanted to do.
From the moment she arrived at work, Mairead's day was colossally busy. She had shifts at both of her libraries, starting with the Muggle one, where it seemed that everyone on the face of the planet had fallen ill. Multiple library staffers had called out, and numerous patrons mentioned that they had come to the library because their child had been sent home sick and they had brought them to the library for want of anything else to do with them, which meant that children everywhere were sneezing, coughing, and wiping their streaming noses and then touching library books. Melissa mentioned in passing to Mairead that the schools had just started back up, and that this explained why so many people had gotten sick recently.
They were so short-staffed that, by turns throughout the morning and early afternoon, Mairead found herself in nearly every department. She was called to the Reference Department multiple times to help clear a recurrent paper jam in the printer, the Children's Room to help with a post-storytime craft (and now she had bright blue handprints painted on her clothing to show for it), the Custodial Department to clean up a patch of carpet where a child had an accident, and the Circulation Department to help bang out two dozen library cards for a teacher who had brought her entire class - completely unannounced - to the library for a visit.
She had hoped that things would be somewhat calmer during her afternoon shift at the Diagon Alley library, but she had no such luck. All afternoon she answered the same questions: no, they did not have copies of the Hogwarts textbooks available for check out and, even if they did, no, patrons could not check library books out for an entire academic year. They were flooded with parents stopping in to return books their children had checked out over the summer, which resulted in mountains of precariously stacked books waiting to be stamped, organized, and shelved. Mairead and another junior staffer wound up trading back and forth which of them had to approach a witch or wizard and inform them that no, they did not provide free childcare for children whilst their parents were shopping for Hogwarts supplies.
By the time her workday was over, Mairead's feet were throbbing from having been on them all day, her head was pounding from dehydration, and her stomach was gurgling so loudly that passersby were starting to notice.
She stepped out of the library onto Diagon Alley and was met with a blast of heat that still hadn't abated even now, at seven o'clock. With an "Oof!" of discomfort, Mairead turned on her heel, bound for Grimmauld Place. For all the dankness and darkness about the Black ancestral home, it had stayed comfortably cool all summer long.
Mairead made straight for the kitchen as soon as she arrived, hopeful that there might be some supper left. When she opened the door, she saw that the kitchen was filled with people; some sort of party appeared to be going on.
Must be an pre-Hogwarts thing, she thought. She looked around and saw that most people had plates and cups in their hands. Looking further across the room, she saw that the table was laden with piles of food, and that it appeared to be some sort of self-serve buffet.
"Oh, excellent," she couldn't help but moan as she made a beeline for the table.
"Hello, Mairead," Hermione greeted her as Mairead poured herself a glass of water and guzzled it down.
"Hey, Hermione," Mairead gasped, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. "End of summer thing?" she asked, gesturing around at the partygoers.
"Oh, well, sort of," Hermione said delicately.
"Wotcher, Mairead!" said Tonks, bouncing up to her. Mairead looked around and saw that Tonks could have passed for her sister today, with the long, red hair she was sporting.
Mairead smiled at Tonks. "Hey," she said, reaching for a plate and beginning to pile it high with food. "This is amazing. I'm starving."
"Yeah, Molly's gone all out," Tonks said, smiling around at Remus, Sirius, and Harry, who had just ambled up to the table themselves. Mairead's eye caught on Harry, who was hanging back and looking considerably put out, for some reason. "Were you ever a prefect, by the way?" Tonks asked.
Mairead snorted ungracefully. "Oh, hell, no," she said around a mouthful of cherry tomato.
"Oh, really?" Hermione said. Mairead smiled wryly. It looked like she was sinking further in the girl's estimation.
"Nope."
"Did that bother you?" Ginny asked, joining them. "Not being selected, I mean?"
Mairead scoffed. "No. What would I have wanted to be a prefect for? It's just a bunch of extra work," she said while glancing up at Remus, who had laid a hand on her back and was tapping her lightly with his fingers. "A bunch of extra work, I might add, on top of one of the busiest, most stressful, most exhausting years you're ever going to experience at Hogwarts. And for what? So you can put one line on your CV that's not going to mean anything in five ye-"
She broke off abruptly. She noticed then that silence had fallen in the room, and that everyone appeared to be staring at her. She looked around and saw that Hermione's and Ron's faces had fallen significantly while she had been rambling on and on. She became aware that Remus had been pointing at something behind her with the hand that was not still tapping her on the shoulder. She turned and followed the line of his arm to where he was pointing.
On the wall directly behind her, where she had previously been unable to see it, a Gryffindor-red banner was hanging that read, "Congratulations Ron and Hermione - New Prefects."
"Oh, GODDAMMIT!" she complained, stomping a foot petulantly. "Why didn't somebody warn me?!"
Bill laughed in disbelief. "Remus was landing flying carpets over there, Mairead," he said, waving his own arms in an exaggerated imitation of the way Remus had been trying to get her attention.
Mairead huffed out a frustrated breath. Then, fixing a wide smile onto her face, she said, "Hey - congrats, Ron and Hermione!" in a tone that clearly rang so obviously false that - with the exception of Mrs. Weasley and the two new prefects themselves - the entire room burst into laughter.
As everyone gradually returned to what they had been doing before her disastrous entrance into the conversation, Mairead ground the heel of her hand into her forehead in mortification and self-consciousness.
"I swear, one of these days I'm just going to run off into the woods and never come back," she grouched.
"Don't you dare," said Sirius, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "I could kiss you right now."
"For what?" she said waspishly.
"In fact -" True to his word and much to Mairead's shock, Sirius leaned in and pressed a light kiss to her lips. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers. "For making Harry laugh," he murmured.
Remus was in a foul mood. Though he had quickly fallen back to sleep after his nightmare that morning, he had not slept soundly. Rather, he had been constantly plagued by further nightmares and... better dreams... that had left him frustrated in the extreme.
He had finally fallen into a deep sleep in the late afternoon only to be awoken by Molly Weasley, who had returned from Diagon Alley and knocked on his door to announce that there was to be a party in the kitchen to congratulate Ron and Hermione, who had both been named prefects. Remus had been extremely pleased for Ron and Hermione, and of course he had dragged himself out of bed to join the celebration, but he now had a pounding headache owing to lack of a proper amount of sleep, and the level of noise in the kitchen was not helping.
Nevertheless, he had put on a good face, smiled amiably, and congratulated the two rising Fifth Years, only to be sucked into a fervent and more than mildly insulting conversation with Hermione regarding elf rights.
"I mean, it's the same kind of nonsense as werewolf segregation, isn't it?" the girl said, her voice full of seriousness and good intent. "It all stems from this horrible thing wizards have of thinking they're superior to other creatures..."
Other creatures? Other. Creatures?
Remus smiled and nodded politely, mask firmly in place, but inside, self-hatred and despondency were churning. So Hermione Granger - liberal thinker, brightest witch of her age, Muggleborn and therefore theoretically free from the baked-in prejudices of those who came from wizarding families - Hermione thought of him as a creature?
Remus kept one ear and half his brain on the conversation while the other half began to brood. He remembered how much it had stung to hear Ron snarl, "Get away from me, werewolf!" years ago in the Shrieking Shack. And involuntarily, his mind hearkened back to the very first nightmare he had had that day, and of the way Dream Mairead's eyes had filled with suspicion and hatred. The way she had also ordered him to stay away from her. Hermione's careless words were yet another reminder that Remus's presence was just tolerated here. He couldn't help but wonder if Dumbledore would even want him here if he weren't so desperate for Order members. He couldn't help but wonder if Molly and Arthur would sleep just a little more soundly tomorrow night, knowing that their children were no longer living under the same roof as a creature such as himself.
Mairead's arrival provided a very brief respite from the ghastly mood that had overtaken him. But almost immediately after she entered the room, Remus found himself drawn to be by her side in a way he could not bring himself to resist, and he added his rapidly diminishing self-control to the list of reasons why he most hated himself that evening.
Perhaps they're all right to fear me, he thought darkly. I'm losing my grip. I could attack at any minute. Best to keep other creatures like me where you can see them.
Remus managed to tear himself away from Mairead's side following her faux pas with the new prefects, but he watched her from across the room, unable to take his eyes off her.
She looked heartachingly lovely as usual. Her hair was a mess in the way Remus loved; it made him want to run his fingers through it, tucking curls behind her ears and smoothing tendrils away from her striking green eyes. He noticed that she had bright blue, child-sized handprints on her skirt and blouse, and though the sight at first made him smile, his mind flashed back to the moment in his dream when his own hands had left marks on her, and he felt a scowl overtake his features and had to work to bring himself back to the mild-mannered mask he was so familiar with.
Worst of all, the darker his mood became, the more he craved the one thing he knew could make him feel better, but he had told himself earlier that he was not allowed to go near that one thing just to be near her. Unless he had a good reason, he was to keep his distance.
And so, even though he himself had been the one to construct these rules, and even though he knew it was for Mairead's own good - and, he was sure, he would eventually see that it was for his own good, as well - Remus found himself wracking his brain for a reason to go over and talk to Mairead. He wanted to hear her voice so badly it felt like a physical ache. He wanted her to look at him the way she did - the way he had half-convinced himself by now she looked exclusively at him - he wanted to hear how her day was, to find out how she had gotten handprints all over herself, he wanted her to make him smile with her unconventional sense of humor, and Good God did he want to make her laugh.
The breakfast! Of course! She had made him breakfast. He had to thank her for it. It was only polite. He excused himself from the conversation he had been having with Kingsley - something about why Dumbledore hadn't made Harry prefect; he had only been half-listening - and was halfway towards her when everything seemed to slow down to a crawl, and his vision narrowed in so that all he could see was Mairead.
Mairead, that was, and Sirius.
Sirius, who had draped an arm elegantly around Mairead's shoulders, leaned in, and kissed her.
On the lips.
Remus froze, mouth open, uncertain whether he had just seen what his brain was telling him he had just seen.
Sirius wouldn't have kissed Mairead. Sirius knew how Remus felt about Mairead. Sirius had known how Remus felt about Mairead before Remus knew how Remus felt about Mairead. Sirius wouldn't have kissed the woman Remus wanted.
Would he?
It was as though Remus's mind had suddenly become a library card catalogue. And out of the catalogue came all of the times at Hogwarts that Sirius had swept a girl off her feet and right out from under Remus.
In Third Year, Remus had fancied Alice Monroe. Sirius had kissed her under the mistletoe right before the Christmas holidays. In Fifth Year, Remus had harbored a crush on Evangeline Bushelby, and had thought he stood half a chance, until Sirius had strutted into their dorm one evening and apologized for missing dinner, but he had been off taking Evangeline's virginity up in the Astronomy Tower. In Sixth Year, Remus had admired no fewer than three of the girls Sirius had dated, had even been the shoulder to cry on for one of them after Sirius had dumped her via owl post over the Easter holidays and had hoped something might come of it, but then she had run off with Sirius a second time after he had second thoughts.
Yes, Sirius would absolutely kiss the woman Remus wanted. He just had. Remus hated himself for being surprised by this. Sirius had been flirting shamelessly with Mairead all summer long. He had outright proposed to her in front of the entire Order. How had he not seen this coming?
But surely Mairead would rebuff him as she always had. Remus waited, holding his breath, for Mairead to roll her eyes, shove Sirius away, say something biting to put him in his place. Maybe she would even slap him. That would be nice. But as Remus watched, Sirius pulled away from Mairead just enough to bump his forehead into hers. He murmured something to Mairead, lips mere centimeters from hers, and Remus's heart sank as he watched a soft smile tug at Mairead's lips. She raised a hand, rested it tenderly on Sirius's cheek, and Remus wanted to burn the house down.
With a terrific effort, Remus managed to tear his eyes away from his best friend and Mairead. He watched through a haze of red as Molly Weasley yawned and announced that she was off to take care of a Boggart before bed. He felt himself smile mechanically at her as she took her leave. By the time he allowed himself to glance back over at Sirius and Mairead, the two had broken apart, and Sirius was now standing by Moody, examining what looked like an old photograph.
"How are you feeling?"
Remus looked around and saw that Mairead had come over to his side. He stared blankly at her for a few moments until he remembered how to speak.
"I'm well, thanks, and yourself?"
She smiled shyly. "Fine, thanks," she said softly. Her eyebrows contracted. "Did the potion work...?"
Remus smiled at her, carefully making sure his true emotions were concealed. "It worked perfectly," he said. "I can't thank you enough."
Mairead sagged with relief. "Oh, thank God," she said on a sigh. "I was so worried something would go wrong! It really went okay?"
He nodded. "The potion was flawless, really."
Mairead sighed again and briefly closed her eyes.
She has freckles on her eyelids.
Remus felt as though he had never wanted anything as badly as he now wanted to kiss her eyelids. Remus wanted to get as far away from her as possible. He wanted to be as near to her as possible.
His thoughts were disrupted by a sharp elbow to his side. Looking around, he saw Mad-Eye Moody looking at him with his regular eye and looking up through the ceiling with his magical eye.
"Might want to go up and give Molly a hand with that Boggart," Moody growled. "Looks like it's getting the better of her."
Automatically, Remus's eyes went to Sirius, who met his gaze and nodded once.
Without another word, Remus hurried off for the first floor landing, Sirius and Mad-Eye close on his heels.
"What's going on?" he asked as he dashed into the drawing room. He saw Molly cowering in one corner of the room, wand dangling precariously from her limp fingers. Then, he saw two Harrys: one standing just inside the doorway, and one lying dead on the floor.
Oh, no, poor Molly.
As soon as his wand was in his hand, he recited the incantation. "Riddikulus!"
The all-too familiar moon replaced the dead Harry. Tightening his mouth, Remus swept his wand in a dismissive gesture and the Boggart disappeared.
"Oh - oh - oh!"
Remus looked over at Molly and saw that she had dissolved into sobs. Remus made for her, softly pleading, "Molly... Molly, don't..."
Molly took Remus by surprise when she leaned against him and began crying into his shoulder. He was always caught off-guard when someone freely touched him, but he shoved his self-hatred aside and wrapped his arms around the witch's shoulders, smoothing down her red hair with his hand. "Molly, it was just a boggart," he murmured. "Just a stupid boggart..."
"I see them d-d-dead all the time!" Molly said, her voice muffled by his shoulder. "All the t-t-time! I d-d-dream about it..."
Remus looked over the top of Molly's head at Sirius, and found the other man staring, transfixed, at the spot where Boggart Harry's body had been. All at once, Remus was certain that Sirius's boggart would have been identical to that of Molly Weasley.
Sirius eventually felt Remus's gaze and looked up, and the two silently agreed to tag team comforting Molly. Remus handed Molly a handkerchief and listened as she shared her fears and anxieties - that her family would die, that she would never reconcile with Percy, that she and Arthur would be killed, leaving their orphaned children to fend for themselves.
Remus cut her off when he sensed she was starting to spiral. He felt a sting of guilt for being briefly impatient with her at her fear response when he said Voldemort's name, but he pushed through it and addressed her fears one by one. Sirius jumped in as well to assure her that Percy would eventually see the error of his ways and that her family would be whole again.
"And as for who's going to look after Ron and Ginny if you and Arthur died," Remus added with a teasing smile, "what do you think we'd do, let them starve?"
It worked. Molly gave him a watery smile, her lips trembling. "Being silly," she said.
It took a few more minutes of quiet reassurance before Molly was herself again. She once again surprised Remus by patting him fondly on the cheek before she excused herself and went up to bed. Sirius exchanged a significant glance with Remus before turning and following Mad-Eye out. Remus heaved a sigh and turned to the door himself, only to find Mairead standing there, watching him quietly from the doorway.
He watched as half a dozen emotions flickered across her face too rapidly for him to get an accurate read on them.
"Are you all right?" he asked her.
Her mouth twitched - in a smile or a frown he could not tell. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, and as Remus watched, her cheeks turned bright pink. Then, she pushed herself off the doorway and crossed the small distance separating them. She stood up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Remus's hands came up reflexively to wrap around her, and he couldn't help but savor the feeling of her body underneath his hands. Then, she gave Remus the shock of a lifetime when she turned her head to the side and brushed her lips briefly across his cheek.
Remus jerked backwards in surprise. Mairead's entire face was red with embarrassment now.
"What was that for?" he asked, his tone coming out more accusatory than he had intended.
Mairead pulled away and shoved her hands into her pockets, shrugging her shoulders up to her ears in a protective gesture. "You're just a good man," she mumbled, staring at the ground.
All at once, all of the very worst emotions Remus had experienced that evening crashed back into him. Anger, desire, jealousy, disappointment, bitterness - feelings that belonged to the wolf, not to him - overtook him, and before he could stop himself, Remus felt his lips curl into a resentful smile.
"Ah, but I am not a man," he said, aware of the cruel tone his voice had taken but unable to stop it.
Mairead blinked, confusion painting her expression. "What do you mean...?" she asked uncertainly.
Remus cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, haven't you heard?" he asked coolly. "The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures made an announcement recently: werewolves are back in the Beast division. We were in the Being division for a while, but that never lasts for very long. So I am not a man. I'm a beast."
Mairead let out a small, uncomfortable laugh. "Well, but, who cares what the Ministry think?" she asked dismissively. "Fuck them."
Remus regarded her harshly. "How nice for you that you can so freely dismiss whatever the Ministry have to say," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Not all of us are privileged enough to have that luxury."
Mairead blinked rapidly and took a stumbling step backwards. "I'm sorry," she said. "I - I didn't mean to offend you. I just... I meant... what I meant to say was that -"
"What you meant was that you want to be in control of dictating what I am," he cut her off. "Since monsters like me clearly can't be trusted with such a dangerous thing as free agency."
Mairead's eyes widened in dismay. "No, that's not what I meant at all!" she said quickly, backing up and holding up her hands defensively. The logical part of Remus's brain knew that her body language was in response to how aggressive and combative he was being, that it was not a fear response to his lycanthropy. Unfortunately, the logical part of Remus's brain was not even close to being in charge at the moment.
He laughed derisively at her. "Getting frightened, are we?" he mocked her viciously. "Go, then. Run if you're scared."
Mairead stopped backing up. She lowered her hands. "I'm not afraid of you," she said softly but firmly.
"Then you're a fool," he spat. "Only someone not very bright could look at a creature like me and not be afraid."
Mairead's features became steely and determined. "Then I guess I'm a fool," she said calmly.
She could be so damn stubborn! "What is wrong with you?" he demanded angrily. "Don't you understand anything? You shouldn't be around me! I'm subhuman! I'm less than a man."
"You're more than a man," she countered.
Remus paused. "Excuse me?" he drawled bitingly.
Mairead's eyes cast about the room as she searched for words. "Being a werewolf doesn't make you less than a man," she said. "It doesn't take away from who you are. It's a part of you. And I like every part of you. Who knows what kind of person you would have become if you hadn't been a werewolf? I mean, you were bitten when you were really little, right? Who knows how different you might be if you hadn't been bitten? I wouldn't change a thing about you! You're wonderful just the way you are! You're kind and compassionate... you're sympathetic to what other people are going through. You listen to what everybody has to say. You -"
"Do you have any idea how entitled you sound right now?" Remus cut her off. Guilt flooded Mairead's face as she sucked in a shaky lungful of air. Remus took a step towards her, eyes narrowed as he began to taunt her. "You wouldn't change a thing about me? How marvelous for you. I'm delighted to hear that my lifelong pain and suffering and misery have worked out so nicely for you."
Mairead was backing up again. "I - I'm sorry," she breathed. "I didn't mean it that way, I just -"
"You just think that I'm some cute, furry little puppy who exists to serve you and all of your other pureblooded kinsmen," he snarled, advancing towards her. "Why would you want anything to change? I'm exactly where your kind want me, aren't I?"
Mairead was shaking her head, breathing around little sobs as she backed up. "No," she whispered. "No..."
"No?" Remus asked, his voice deadly soft now as Mairead's back hit the wall and she had nowhere to go. "Well then why don't you tell me just what it is that you want from me? Because you're the one who matters here, aren't you? Why should anyone ask me what I want? How could that possibly compare with what you want?"
"I'm sorry," Mairead was beginning to cry, one hand over her mouth, the other bracing herself against the wall behind her as tears filled her remorseful eyes. "Remus, I'm so sorry..."
Remus advanced on her until he was right in front of her. Leaning forward, he placed his hands on either side of her head, trapping her in the cage of his arms.
"Afraid yet?" he growled, glaring at her.
Mairead was crying in earnest now. Tiny sobs quietly escaped her as tears began slipping down her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut and whimpered, and the vicious, embittered part of Remus that was in control right now felt a sick, hateful sense of triumph that he had finally succeeded in scaring some sense into the girl.
But then she opened her eyes and stared into his. Her entire body was quivering, but as they mutually searched one another's eyes, Remus saw guilt, sympathy, and anxiety in her expression, but he did not see fear. Most of all, what he saw was bewilderment.
"I - I'm sorry," she said, her voice hoarse with tears. "I'm so sorry, Remus. I never meant to hurt you... but I'm not afraid of you."
She hiccoughed and more tears ran down her face, and Remus felt remorse the severity of which he had seldom felt before come sweeping over him like a rainstorm putting out a brush fire.
Looking away from her, he dropped the arm that was closest to the door. "Get out," he said shortly.
Mairead got out.
Author's Note: Okay, so I can understand if you're all upset with me. But did the spicy bit make it up to you at all? Although I suppose it was a dream... Well, if it's any consolation, the next chapter might make it up to you! Or it'll make you hate me more. Not entirely sure. Please let me know where you fall on the hating me spectrum! Have a great week!
Song for Chapter 13: "don't worry you will," by lovelytheband (Remus)
