Author's Note: Thank you to GraceMonroe for your review! I will respond to you ASAP!
In the meantime, I hope you enjoy and will forgive me, haha!
Chapter Fifteen: Consequences
Mairead laid awake in bed for hours, staring up at the ceiling, going over what had happened, and most of all, trying to turn back time.
She had to make things right with Remus. She had to make him see that it had been an accident, nothing more. She came up with excuse after excuse, her ideas becoming increasingly wild and absurd the longer the night went on. Finally, however, she decided that what she needed to do was talk to him. Come clean. Tell him how she had wanted him for ages, since long before he had felt whatever it was he felt for her. They had always been able to work things out when they had talked. All she needed to do was speak with him as soon as morning came.
She fell into a restless slumber and awoke early the next morning. Sirius was already in the kitchen, brewing coffee and tea for everyone, when she arrived.
Sirius turned around and fixed her with an expectant smile. "Well?" he asked. "How did it go last night?"
Mairead placed both hands over her face and groaned. "Complete disaster," she whined. "I need to speak with Remus. Is he up yet?"
"He's already gone."
Mairead dropped her hands and stared at Sirius in dismay. "Gone?" she repeated.
"Yeah," said Sirius, splashing milk into his coffee and taking a drink. "Said something about Dumbledore needing him back at headquarters early. He Disapparated about fifteen minutes ago."
"Shit." Mairead wanted to kick something.
"What happened?" Sirius asked, bringing her a cup of tea.
"Me. I happened," she said shortly, taking the teacup from him so forcefully that she sloshed scalding liquid all over her hands. "Fuck!"
Sirius handed her a towel, a frown on his face. "All right," he said once she had mopped up her mess. "You're not getting out of this. Tell me everything."
Mairead sighed fretfully, then reluctantly told Sirius about the events of the previous night, leaving out all of the sexier details.
Sirius rubbed a hand over his face when she had finished. "Well," he said slowly, "I can think of one or maybe two other things you could've done that would've been worse, but... yeah. You fucked up."
Mairead scowled at him. "Gee, thanks," she said acidly.
Sirius spread his hands defensively. "What do you want?" he retorted. "He's seriously stressed about fancying a former student of his, worried that any move he makes would just be perceived by you as a power play on his part, he finally gets what he wants, and what's the first thing you do? You might as well have brought him an apple for his desk."
Mairead rolled her eyes. "So, that whole comfort thing? You suck at it."
"Sorry, Mairead. You called him 'Professor.' That's... kinky at best."
Mairead buried her face in her hands once again. "Is that what he's going to think now?" she moaned. "That I'm just, like, fetishizing him?"
"Are you?"
"Fuck you!" she snapped, her voice breaking. She fumed in silence for a few seconds before her self-loathing reached a boiling point. "Great - he thinks I'm a pathetic loser with some weird kink and so do you. Fucking perfect. I'll just go wait in the car or something."
She shoved herself away from the table and stood up, determined to get out of the house before she started to cry. Before she could take another step, though, Sirius wrapped a hand around her wrist, halting her angry march.
"You've really loved him for that long?"
Mairead's chin and lips began trembling. She hated how she was feeling. She had dreamed of being with Remus - of kissing him, touching him, being held by him - nonstop for almost two years. She should have been ecstatic and instead, she was on the verge of tears. She could not speak, so she just nodded, avoiding Sirius's eye.
"You've been waiting for him all this time?" he asked.
Mairead did her best to stifle her tears, but a traitorous whimper broke free all the same. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she simply nodded again.
Sirius took a long, slow inhale, then sighed deeply. "Give him time," he said. "When Remus gets upset he needs some time to process. If you try to talk to him today he's just gonna dig his heels in. Give him a couple of days and then apologize. I've never seen him want anybody as badly as he wants you. Hopefully he'll hear you out. Give it another shot."
Mairead sniffled and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. "And if he doesn't?" she asked thickly.
He looked at her, a serious expression on his face. "Then he's gonna miss out on what just might be the best damn thing that's ever happened to him."
Mairead followed Sirius's advice. By the time they had returned to Grimmauld Place, Mairead had already developed a plan for giving Remus space.
It wound up not being necessary, however, as Remus, it turned out, was even better at turning invisible than Mairead was. Though she knew from pestering Sirius that Remus was still living at headquarters, she did not see him at all over the next three days. She saw a well-worn pair of shoes disappearing around a corner once as she walked down a corridor on the second day, but that was the only sign that there was a third person living at Grimmauld Place.
Mairead tried to take her mind off Remus. She nursed the clippings that she had managed to transport back with her, distracted herself at work, threw herself back into her self-defense classes at the Academy, and picked up two shifts covering the front desk there as well.
By the third day back, Mairead was immensely grateful that she was going to be moving into a new place. At least then Remus wouldn't feel the need to take his meals at odd hours and otherwise disrupt his schedule in order to avoid seeing her.
The Saturday following the visit to the Grizedale Forest, Mairead packed her things into her car, thanked Sirius profusely for allowing her to stay, and drove to West Brompton.
Compared to Islington, this part of London felt positively quiet. Mairead snorted sardonically at the sight of her beat-up car parked in the designated spot behind a wrought-iron gate next to the grand, goldenrod-colored house. The guest bedroom she would be staying in was much sunnier and airier than her bedroom at Grimmauld Place had been, and there was even an in-home gym where Mairead entertained herself for an hour, trying out all of the workout equipment the Muggle owners used. Much as she enjoyed Sirius's company (even when he was sulking), Mairead felt as though a weight had been lifted from her, knowing that here, she would not have to worry about running into Remus - or brood over not running into Remus. Perhaps some time and space would do her good, too.
The kitchen was stocked with all sorts of foods, which the homeowner had told her she was welcome to consume, and Mairead had just pulled a frozen pizza out of the freezer, looking forward to a relaxing evening by herself, when there was a flash of light and a scarlet phoenix feather floated to the ground at her feet.
"Oh, fucking, fuckety, fuck-fuck!" she fumed.
When she arrived at Grimmauld Place, she opened the door and was immediately assaulted with the screams and wails of the portraits. Evidently someone who had arrived before her had rung the bell. With a weary sigh, Mairead pulled out her wand and began putting the portraits to sleep. She had nearly finished when Hestia and Sirius rushed into the entrance hall and each seized one of the curtains on either side of Sirius's mother's portrait.
"Oh, hi, Mairead," Hestia said, her cheeks flushed. "Thanks for taking care of the others. I needed help to get this one."
"No problem," said Mairead.
The three finished restoring silence to the hall and then crept down the corridor to the basement steps. It wasn't until Mairead followed Sirius through the door that it occurred to her that neither she nor Remus would be able to avoid one another at this meeting.
Sure enough, Remus was there, but he had not saved a seat for her, as had been his custom of late. Rather, he was sitting beside Bill, and Sirius settled into the chair on his other side, shooting Mairead an apologetic look as he did. Mairead took a seat in between Hestia and, to her displeasure, Snape, then stole a glance over at Remus.
He had not so much as acknowledged her presence.
The good news was, he did not appear to be uncontrollably livid, as she had feared. By all accounts, he looked like his normal self. He leaned back in his seat on Sirius's return to include him in his conversation with Bill, then continued merrily on with whatever it was he was saying. Mairead sighed wistfully. He was talking with his hands.
The meeting began, and Dumbledore started by stating that the Hogwarts Heads of House had agreed to a rotation of staying back from meetings to maintain an Order presence at Hogwarts. Tonight, Flitwick was absent.
Emmeline and Sturgis gave their report on following the Hogwarts Express to Hogsmeade Station (uneventful), and Remus and Sirius reported on the trip to Grizedale Forest. Mairead held her breath as Remus spoke, but his eyes did not so much as flick over in her direction. Kingsley, Arthur, and Doge all spoke on their observations of the Ministry of Magic, which was continuing to deny the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
"How are things at Hogwarts?" asked Sirius. "What's the general atmosphere like there?"
"Abominable," said McGonagall tersely. Mairead's eyebrows shot up.
"Why?" asked Tonks.
"Because of Educational Decree Number Twenty-Two," said Snape, his lip curling in distaste.
Everyone looked confused except for the Hogwarts professors and Remus, who quietly asked, "Whom has the Ministry appointed?"
"Wait - what's Educational Decree Number Twenty-Two?" asked Bill.
"It was in the Prophet a few days ago," said Remus, looking grave. "The Decree grants the Minister of Magic the right to appoint Hogwarts professors in the event that the headmaster is unable to find someone to fill the position."
Dumbledore nodded. His face was like stone when he said, "Fudge has appointed Dolores Umbridge to the Defense Against the Dark Arts position."
Mairead's mouth fell open. She stared at Dumbledore, aghast. The thought of that horrible witch getting her stubby fingers around Hogwarts was petrifying. Her breath became short, and she stared down at the tabletop, blinking rapidly at this calamitous news. She was clearly not the only person who was appalled at this new development. She listened and took deep breaths as several people cried out in protest. When she felt she could hold herself together again, she raised her head, only to find Remus looking right at her.
In the span of time it took her to blink in surprise, he had looked away. But perhaps that meant he was ready to talk. Mairead resolved to approach him after the meeting ended and ask for a moment in private.
The thought of being alone with Remus, of acknowledging her mortifying slip-up, was very distracting, and so Mairead only half-heard the grumblings and explanations volleyed back and forth regarding Umbridge's appointment.
"Our last order of business," said Dumbledore once the topic of the Educational Decree had died down, "is intelligence-gathering. Has there been anything of note to report coming through the receivers, Sirius?"
"Nothing at all from Macnair's," Sirius said. "But there's been a bit of relevant chatter from Malfoy's."
"What news has come through, Sirius?" asked Dumbledore.
Sirius looked highly irritated. He hesitated, then begrudgingly acknowledged, "Nothing we haven't already heard from... other sources."
Beside Mairead, Snape shifted in his seat, a self-satisfied smile on his face. "By 'other sources,' you undoubtedly mean the intelligence that I put my life on the line to gather, don't you, Black? The intelligence the gathering of which requires every bit of skill and ingenuity that I possess? The intelligence that you only hear about days later, while reclining safely at home, sipping on Butterbeer and growing flabby?"
Sirius shot forward in his chair as though he meant to throw himself across the table at Snape. "I wouldn't brag too much about your skill and ingenuity if I can gather the same information sitting on my arse, Snivellus."
"Enough."
One word from Dumbledore was all that was needed to send the two black-haired men contritely back into their seats, though a victorious sneer still played on Snape's face.
"Malfoy's too smart to use his office for Voldemort's work," growled Moody. Mairead's face twitched in unease at the sound of the Dark Lord's name. "At least right now. And Macnair's never in there. We've got to get closer."
"I agree," said Dumbledore. "It is my opinion that we must develop a plan to place listening devices in the homes of select Death Eaters. Starting with Lucius Malfoy."
There was a general murmur of assent. Bill volunteered to lead the mission. He was to choose a small group of Order members to work with. Together, they would formulate a plan to infiltrate Malfoy's home and place a bug. Dumbledore asked Bill to begin planning and report back at the next Order meeting, which would take place the following weekend.
Dumbledore thanked Bill for his leadership and adjourned the meeting. Mairead sat up straight and watched Remus get to his feet. He smiled at Bill and excused himself.
Mairead jumped up and hurried out after him, not bothering with niceties as she ducked and weaved through the others milling about.
"Remus," she called softly at the bottom of the stairwell. But Remus was already at the top of the stairs, and he did not turn or even slow at the sound of his name.
Mairead took the stairs two at a time. "Remus!" she called in a loud whisper, hurrying down the corridor towards the staircase leading to the upper levels. She arrived at the foot of the stairs as Remus reached the top. "Remus!" she called again. She was positive he could hear her, but he merely continued up the stairs without faltering.
Mairead followed him up to the third floor, where she knew his bedroom was. She did not exactly want to have this conversation in a room with a bed, but it did not appear as though she were to have any choice in the matter.
Remus's legs were longer and he was much swifter than Mairead. He managed to put quite a bit of distance between them in the short run between the basement and his bedroom.
It was clear to Mairead that she was not going to catch up to him, so she stopped and pleaded, "Remus, please, can we just talk for a -"
She broke off abruptly at the sound of him snapping his door closed. She stood there, frozen on the steps, for several long moments before she numbly turned around, walked back down the stairs, and out into the night.
Mairead finally saw Remus on Tuesday of the following week. She had been visiting Grimmauld Place every day in the hopes of seeing him, but had mostly ended up spending her time on the rooftop garden. Many of the plants she had carefully nursed throughout the summer were at last ready for harvest, and Mairead appreciated the distraction of running back and forth, carrying bundles of herbs back to her potions lab to hang upside down to dry.
It was on one of these trips that she almost literally bumped into Remus. Her efforts at growing Monkshood had paid off in dividends, and she was carrying down the first of what looked to be many armloads of the bounty. She had piled the plant high in her arms and was struggling somewhat to see overtop the deadly flower. She walked along a landing, turned a corner to take the stairs, and nearly collided with Remus, who had just reached the top.
Mairead squeaked out an "Oh!" of surprise and dropped at least half the Monkshood down the stairs.
"Sorry," she whispered, then, "Hi."
Remus nodded politely at her. "Good afternoon, Mairead," he said.
There was no anger or blame in his expression. As a matter of fact, there was nothing at all in his expression. His face, his mouth, his eyes, they were all completely unreadable. There was no ire or cruelty, to be sure, but there was also no smile, no twinkling eyes, nothing at all to indicate that he even knew her. He looked at her with an expression of polite neutrality, but Mairead couldn't help but notice that he didn't quite meet her eyes, but rather looked off slightly past her shoulder.
Mairead realized she was staring at him. She blinked, then said, "Er, sorry about the - I mean..."
Remus looked around at the spilled flowers. "Oh, it's no trouble," he said courteously. With a wave of his hand, the Wolfsbane all rose into the air and stacked itself neatly back into Mairead's arms.
"Thanks," she said with a grateful smile. He smiled blandly at her. "H-how have you been?" she asked tentatively.
"I am well, thanks. And yourself?"
Mairead found herself backing up, wanting space between her and the almost unrecognizable person who had taken up shop in Remus's body. "Erm, I'm fine, thanks," she said in a barely audible voice.
"Excellent," he said briskly. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I'd better be going. Have a pleasant afternoon."
With a final, empty smile, he climbed the final few stairs and continued past her down the corridor. He did not look back.
Mairead remained where she was, trying to process what had just happened. For days, she had feared that she and Remus would have it out in a great row the next time they spoke. She had spent what must have been hours agonizing over whether Remus would yell at her, tell her off for her immaturity the other night, or tell her that he had had second thoughts and she simply wasn't good enough for him. But he had not seemed angry or upset at all. He had seemed... empty. Vacant. Businesslike. It was as though she were a stranger to him.
And that hurt worse than anything she had been imagining.
Remus was a pervert. He was an evil, lewd, predatory, lecherous pervert who had taken advantage of his access to a student and sexually assaulted her. He should be arrested. And probably castrated.
These were the thoughts that occupied Remus's mind in the days following the day and night spent in Grizedale Forest. He knew he should be focused on other things - such as the pack of werewolves that had recently come to his attention and which Dumbledore would more than likely want him to infiltrate - but he could not get his mind off Mairead.
How could he have been so foolish? How could he have been so blind?
How many times would Remus have to ignore what his common sense told him before he would listen? He had known - had known from the beginning - that getting close to Mairead was a bad idea, even if it originally hadn't been for the same reasons it was now. His common sense had been telling him from the beginning not to allow himself to get too close to her; it had been telling him from the beginning that someone who could so easily slip past his defenses was dangerous; it had been telling him from the beginning to stay the hell away from her.
But he hadn't wanted to. And since when had Remus ever listened to his common sense when it was in conflict with what he wanted?
Remus had been having the same argument with himself for days on end now. And every time, he inevitably came back to the same pathetic attempt to justify his shameful actions: she had kissed him first. Why would she have done that? Why would she have kissed him if she was not interested?
There's a pretty significant difference between the chaste kiss she gave you and the mauling you gave her, though.
Did that mean, however, that on some level she was interested in him?
Oh, God - did I groom her?!
The horrifying thought was enough to stop Remus in his tracks when it occurred to him. His mouth hung open as he considered their history. He had undoubtedly been flirting with her over the course of the summer. He was not too proud to admit that Sirius had been right in that regard. But what about earlier? Had he flirted with her at Hogwarts? Had he been interested in her at Hogwarts?
Definitely not.
He had certainly liked Mairead at Hogwarts. Had James and Lily's son not been in the picture she most certainly would have been his favorite student. But there was not a single moment that Remus could recall when he had felt lust or even attraction towards Mairead at Hogwarts. He simply hadn't seen her that way.
But, if he was being brutally honest with himself, he could see how many of his actions towards Mairead could have been confusing to a young, innocent girl. He had certainly spent more time with her than he had spent with any of his other students, Harry included. And not just in class or in their meetings. He had regularly visited her in the library. He had regularly stopped her to chat in corridors. And then there was the matter of their meetings. Remus had invited Mairead to make herself at home in his office, and over time she had come to take him up on that. She had helped herself to his music, she always made tea for both of them, and she'd often stayed so long after her lessons were over that he had to walk her back to her Common Room to avoid her getting a detention for breaking curfew.
And though Remus would have liked to pretend that he was just being gracious and sympathetic towards a socially awkward, wallflower student without many friends, he knew there was no point in denying that he had had an affinity for her almost instantly, and that he had not felt a need to hide how well he liked her. Hell, he had bloody danced with her once!
It was no wonder Mairead was confused. Without intending to, Remus had set up a dynamic in which she felt she had to give him access to her time and her body in order to get what she needed from him.
It was no wonder she had kissed him. She felt she had no choice.
He truly was a monster.
Though he had gone over and over it in his mind, Remus could see only one solution: he simply had to stay away from Mairead. They were both members of the Order. He was not too modest to know that he was one of Dumbledore's best fighters, and it would be beyond inappropriate to expect Mairead to leave the Order over Remus's appalling behavior. But things could not go on as they had been. It was too confusing for Mairead, and Remus had clearly shown that he could not control himself enough to be trusted around her.
For the first few days after they had gotten back to London, Remus had simply avoided Mairead. But this had quickly proven unmanageably cumbersome. He could not simply refuse to talk to Mairead, especially not if she was to continue living at headquarters. And so Remus settled for a completely clean slate when it came to Mairead. He would treat her the same way he treated anyone else - no better, no worse. He owed it to her to give her space to understand the way he had taken advantage of their power differential and tricked her into thinking that she felt something for him when in truth she was just having her emotions manipulated by a conniving werewolf.
This was, of course, easier said than done. Remus often found himself missing Mairead so badly it felt like a physical ache. When she had nearly crashed into him on a staircase, her arms full of flowers, he had been sorely tempted to forget his plans to maintain professional distance and follow her back to her potions lab and spend the rest of the day with her. But he had forced himself to stick to the plan. He could see that Mairead was confused and distressed, but she was an intelligent person. Her head would soon clear and before too long she would be grateful to be rid of him.
To distract himself from the inevitable loneliness that resulted from pulling away from Mairead, Remus threw himself wholeheartedly into work for the Order. He pulled several all-night shifts at the Department of Mysteries, began developing a plan for contacting the werewolf pack, and offered Bill any help he could use on his first go as a mission leader.
Bill gratefully accepted Remus's offer to help, and pulled Remus in on all of his planning. Remus had just sat down to one of these discussions with Bill, Charlie, Sirius, Arthur, and Mad-Eye one evening when Mairead walked into the kitchen, looking heart-stoppingly lovely and once again nearly dissolving Remus's resolve.
Remus quickly looked away from Mairead so that she wouldn't notice him staring at her, but carefully watched her every movement out of the corner of his eye.
Like the miscreant you are, he thought dourly.
Mairead's footsteps stuttered. With a twist of shame, Remus figured that she had just spotted him and was debating whether to turn around and leave. Bill and Arthur both looked up and greeted her affably, though, and she tip-toed over to the kettle and began making herself a cup of tea. Remus pursed his lips and ordered himself not to pay attention to her movements.
"So, I did some digging," Bill said, and Remus focused his attention back on the subject at hand. "And get this: Malfoy's house is on the Register of Notable Historic Magical Dwellings in Britain. And d'you know what that means? Blueprints to his whole house are available upon request."
"Nice one, Bill," said Sirius appreciatively. "Managed to snag a copy yet?"
Bill chuckled. "Indeed, I have," he said a touch smugly. He pulled out a scroll of paper he had been holding in his lap and unfurled it on the table, revealing a detailed set of blueprints labeled, Malfoy Manor.
Mad-Eye let out a low whistle. "Not bad," he growled. "Not bad at all."
"Thanks," said Bill. "This room on the third floor is labeled as an office, and no other room in the house has that label, so I think we can safely assume that this is where we should plant the bug."
"Look at the size of it," Sirius said, shaking his head disdainfully. "It's massive."
"Malfoy is nothing if not opulent," said Arthur, contempt dripping from his voice.
Bill looked over his shoulder, and before he could stop himself Remus followed the younger man's gaze over to where Mairead was picking up the kettle and holding it over a mug. "Hey, Mairead," said Bill.
She jumped at the sound of her name, missed her mug, and poured boiling water all over the countertop. She leapt backwards as scalding water began cascading in rivulets onto the ground. Remus's muscles twitched. He gripped his fingers around the edge of the table to stop himself jumping to his feet and hurrying over to help her.
"Err... yes?" she said uncertainly, turning to Bill. Remus quickly averted his eyes.
"What would you say the range is on one of those listening devices?" Bill asked.
Mairead thought for a moment. "Erm..." she hedged. "I would say twenty feet at an absolute maximum. But mind you, the sound quality is going to diminish the farther away you get, plus you're going to be picking up every ambient noise between your mic and your target."
Bill nodded thoughtfully. "So we would want to place it as centrally as possible," he said. "To pick up on all corners of the room. Can you take a look at this, Mairead? Give me a sense of a radius for this room?"
Mairead approached the table cautiously. She appeared to be avoiding looking at Remus as studiously as he had been avoiding her. She peered down at the drawing. Remus couldn't resist a quick glance up at her while she was distracted. His stomach tightened unpleasantly as he saw her face turn pale as recognition lit in her eyes.
"You're not going to want to put the bug in that room," she said quietly.
Bill frowned. "Why not?"
Mairead swallowed. "Because that's not his real office."
This time Remus couldn't help staring right at her. But then, everyone was staring at Mairead.
"Come again?" Bill asked blankly.
Mairead's shoulders twitched. "That's not his real office," she repeated. "It's a decoy."
Sirius's eyebrows went up. "A decoy office?" he said. "Why am I not surprised?"
"How do you know that?" asked Bill incredulously. Remus wanted to kick him.
One of Mairead's eyes twitched. "I've been there," she said in a way that did not invite further questions.
Mercifully, Bill did not pursue this line of questioning further. "I feel a tad stupid for asking," he said, "as the answer's probably obvious. But why does Malfoy have a decoy office?"
Mairead rubbed the corner of one of her eyebrows in what Remus recognized as one of her nervous tics. "Part of being on that Historic Register thing is you've got to make your house open for tours once a month," she said. "Malfoy couldn't have the public coming in and stumbling on his real office, so he had a fake one built."
"Where is the real office?" asked Arthur.
Mairead swallowed, but her voice was still a bit hoarse when she said, "It moves."
"It fucking moves?" said Sirius.
She nodded, raising a finger to her mouth and beginning to gnaw on a fingernail. "It's concealed behind a portrait," she said.
"Like at Hogwarts," Arthur said, but Mairead was already shaking her head.
"Not like that," she corrected. "At Hogwarts the entrances all stay the same, so you can switch the portrait out and the entrance will still be in the same place."
Remus exchanged a glance with Sirius. "In most cases, sure," Sirius said. Remus could tell that, like him, Sirius was mentally tallying the number of moving portrait holes they had found in the castle.
Mairead looked at him curiously for a moment, then went on. "This entrance isn't like those. It's bound to the portrait itself. So Malfoy can move the portrait all over his house and the entrance to his office will follow."
Moody laughed darkly. "Clever, really," he admitted. "He could even take the portrait down and hide it somewhere if someone from the Ministry came to do a raid."
Mairead nodded. "In the wine cellar," she said quietly. "Behind one of the big, erm... the... like, the furniture you store wine bottles on? Like a bookcase? But for wine?"
Though it made no sense, the fact that Mairead didn't know the term 'wine rack' made Remus want to wrap his arms around her and hold onto her until the day he died.
"Okay, so the real office is clearly where we want to plant this thing," said Bill, steering the conversation back to the mission. "What's the portrait of?"
An odd, closed look came over Mairead's face. "It's a portrait of Malfoy and his two best friends," she said in a hollow voice. "They're all kids. Eleven. They're holding their Hogwarts acceptance letters."
"And how do we get into the - oh, dammit, it's protected by a password, isn't it?" said Bill, letting a fist fall on the table lightly. It only made a slight thump but Mairead jumped as though he had slammed his hand down.
She looked highly uncomfortable, and her voice was tight when she said, "It's not a password," she said.
"How do you get in, then?" asked Arthur.
Mairead was definitely shivering now. Remus wanted more than anything to hold her in his arms.
"You need a drop of blood," she said, looking pale and ill.
Sirius chuckled darkly. "These fuckers love their blood, don't they?"
Arthur was frowning though. "That's it?" he said, sounding skeptical. "I have a hard time believing that Malfoy would go to all that trouble to hide the entrance to his office, only to make it accessible to anyone who bleeds."
"It's not," said Mairead. "It has to be the blood of one of the people in the portrait or one of their descendants. You - you have to put the blood on the address line of Malfoy's acceptance letter." She folded her arms around herself.
"Why wasn't any of this divulged to the Ministry?" Arthur burst out, looking beside himself. "The number of times I've gone on raids to Malfoy's house and we've found next to nothing. There's probably enough incriminating evidence in there to put Malfoy away for life! Why didn't any of this come out at the trials?"
"It did," said Moody sardonically. He jerked his head over at Mairead, who was still hugging herself with one arm and pinching her upper lip between the first finger and thumb of her other hand. "She told the Wizengamot all of this in her testimony. But when Malfoy was cleared of all charges - following an enormous donation, mind you - he filed a motion to have any damning testimony against him wiped from official records, and the Office of Magical Law Enforcement were gagged from acting upon any of it." He laughed and shook his head, then looked up at Mairead. "He'd probably really like to see you swingin' from a tree, Missy."
Remus couldn't stay silent any longer. Mairead looked like she was about to faint.
"Thank you for this information, Mairead," he said firmly, shooting a significant glance at Sirius, who nodded to indicate that he had also noticed Mairead's advanced distress. "Why don't you make yourself some tea now?"
Remus could feel Mairead staring at him, but he would not allow himself to look at her. After a few long moments, she turned and silently walked back over to the counter where she had left her mug.
Remus listened to the group chatter and leaned in to look at the blueprints along with everyone else, but he was watching Mairead carefully out of the corner of his eye. Her hands were shaking so badly that she missed her mug a second time. Once again he had to clutch the table to stop himself from going to her when he heard a quiet, sharp intake of breath when she splashed hot water onto the hand trying to steady her mug.
"All right, so it has to be blood," said Bill. "And it has to be a relative of Malfoy's." He looked over at Sirius. "You're related to the Malfoys aren't you, Sirius?"
"Not on Lucius's side," said Sirius. "I doubt my relation to Narcissa would count."
"There are still the other two boys in the painting," Arthur reminded Bill.
"Oh, right -" Bill leaned back in his seat. "Hey, Mairead."
Mairead paused as she was on her way out of the room. Remus watched her take a moment to steel herself before turning back to Bill.
"Yes?"
"Who're the other two kids in the painting?"
Mairead's mouth twitched. She swallowed with difficulty, then said, "His two best friends."
Bill shook his head. "Who are Malfoy's two best friends?" He looked to Arthur for help, but his father only shrugged.
Mairead looked queasy and faint. "Rudolphus Lestrange," she said slowly, her voice shaking as though even just saying the names might conjure them before her eyes, "... and my father."
By the time Saturday arrived, Mairead had given up on her hopes of speaking to Remus. She had seen him several times since their near collision on the staircase, and though she had made multiple attempts at engaging him, he had managed to stay disconnected and out of her reach. No matter how hard she tried, he remained stubbornly aloof. He did not speak to her unless answering a direct question from her - and even then he answered it in as few syllables as he could manage - he never once met her eyes, and he always seemed to find an excuse to leave any room she walked into shortly after she entered.
She had entertained a brief flare of hope that he might be ready to reconcile after he had stepped in to release her from Bill's uncomfortable line of questioning about Malfoy Manor, but he immediately went back to treating her like a stranger.
The day after she had seen him in the kitchen, Mairead had gathered her courage and gone looking for him around Grimmauld Place, determined to speak directly about what had happened.
She had found him in the library, deeply absorbed in a book and sipping at a cup of tea. When she had knocked and he had looked around and seen her, his previously relaxed demeanor instantly tightened into a stiff, formal, impenetrable suit of armor.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," she had said softly.
"No, it's fine," Remus had said, shutting his book and standing. "I was just about to leave anyway."
She had diplomatically decided to ignore the fact that he had obviously not been about to leave, and plowed forward with her plan. "No, actually - I came here to see you."
"Oh," Remus had said, frowning and checking his watch. "I'm afraid I've got to get going."
Mairead's fingers had twisted around themselves. "Please," she had said, "can we talk? Just for a minute or two?"
"Forgive me," Remus had said, not looking at her as he gathered up his mug and made for the door. "It'll have to be some other time."
"It's about what happened the other night," Mairead had blurted, trying to get as much out as she could before he left. "At the cottage. Between us, I mean."
Remus's footsteps had paused at this. Then, looking at the ground, he had firmly said, "I have to go."
He had then given Mairead as wide a berth as he could manage and walked out, leaving her alone.
As a result of his clear rejection and revulsion, Mairead found herself growing meeker and meeker in her attempts to reconnect with him. By the time the next Order meeting arrived, Mairead had come to dread running into Remus at headquarters. His cold carelessness was slowly destroying her, and she wasn't sure how much more of it she could take.
When she walked into the kitchen on Saturday evening to join the meeting and saw that the only open seats would place her next to either Remus or Snape, she almost turned around and left, hoping she could slip out unnoticed. But Arthur and Bill both looked up and smiled at her, and she felt it would be rude to leave, not to mention irresponsible and disrespectful to the Order, so she smiled wanly and resolved to make herself as inconspicuous as possible as she slipped into the chair between Snape and Sturgis. Moments later, Sirius and Tonks entered the kitchen, offering a hasty apology for their tardiness while silencing the portraits, and sitting down on either side of Remus. Mairead burned with envy and resentment when Remus smiled warmly at Tonks.
Dumbledore called the meeting to order and all chatter ceased. The headmaster turned to Bill.
"How are the plans coming along for infiltrating Malfoy's house, Bill?" he asked.
"They're going well," said Bill, slipping his hand out from under the table, where Mairead felt certain he had been holding hands with Fleur. "But a bit hastily. I think we've got an incredible opportunity to get in there, but it's coming up in just a few days."
"Go on," Dumbledore encouraged him, steepling his fingers and resting his chin on them.
"Well, you see, Malfoy's house is on the Register of Notable Historic Magical Dwellings in Britain," Bill began. "There are two major pluses to this. First: the blueprints to his house are available to the public upon request -"
"Albeit with some notable omissions," Arthur added bitterly.
"True," Bill nodded. "And second: wizards with houses on the Register have to agree to open their doors to the public for tours once a month. That's where the time crunch comes in: I think the public tour would be the perfect opportunity for us to get in there to place the bug, but the Registry said that Malfoy's tour date is next Thursday."
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Presumably, though, if we were to miss this tour date, we could plan to go in on the following date, yes?"
Bill nodded and shrugged at the same time. "Well, yeah, we could wait. But I think we can be ready for Thursday if we push it."
Dumbledore nodded. "If you believe you can be ready, then every resource you need will be at your disposal. Have you selected your team?"
"I've got people in mind," Bill said.
"Go ahead with your list."
Bill shuffled through some papers in front of him and laid one on top of the others. "Well, first, obviously, I would go."
"Mission leaders do sometimes go on the mission themselves," said Dumbledore, "but in most cases they stay back at headquarters to act as the central hub to whom everyone reports. Have you considered this option?"
"Hmm," Bill hummed. "I hadn't. All right, I'll stay back."
"I can go on the mission in your place," Charlie volunteered.
"Will that do?" Dumbledore asked Bill.
"Absolutely," Bill said, shooting a grin at his brother, who winked back.
Dumbledore inclined his head. "Very well. Who else?"
"Fleur has been my go-to for getting information from the Registry," Bill went on.
"Fleur is somewhat well-known, though," Doge broke in.
"Yeah, we're playing that up," Bill said. "One of the Triwizard Champions, taking a gap year after Beauxbatons, touring around, et cetera."
"Have you encountered any difficulties with this story thus far, Fleur?" asked Dumbledore.
"None," answered Fleur.
Dumbledore nodded.
"Then I think we should have an Auror there, for obvious reasons," said Bill. "Tonks would be a natural choice, with her ability to change her appearance."
Tonks grinned. "I'd be happy to!" she chimed from beside Remus.
"Great," said Bill. "And then lastly, Mairead."
The bottom dropped out of Mairead's stomach. She waited for Remus or someone to object to her inclusion, certain that she wouldn't have to do it herself. But while she saw that Remus was frowning, a line between his eyebrows, he said nothing, and conversation began to move onto other parts of the plans.
"Er..." she said hesitantly.
No one heard her.
"Erm," she tried again.
Beside her, Snape rolled his eyes. "Either Miss O'Keefe is trying to cough something up or she has an objection," he announced scathingly.
Everyone at the table turned and looked at her. Except for Remus, who was staring at his hands.
"Yes, Mairead?" said Dumbledore in his pleasant, kind voice.
"Erm," Mairead said in a tiny voice. "I - I don't... erm, I don't think that's such a good idea."
"What do you feel is not a good idea?" Dumbledore asked, still addressing her in a kind, benevolent manner.
Mairead took a shaky breath in. "I don't think it's a good idea for me to go along," she said, unable to look anyone in the eye.
Dumbledore nodded. "Very well," he said. He turned back to Bill. "Whom else did you have in mind?"
Mairead looked up, scarcely able to believe that it was that easy. But then she noticed Bill, who was looking dumbstruck.
"Wait - why don't you want to go?" he asked her.
Mairead shifted in her seat. Memories from her childhood of the horrific things she had witnessed and experienced in the house of her father's best friend were nipping at her heels. She fought them off as best she could and said, "I just don't think it's a good idea."
"Can you be more specific?"
I seriously don't fucking want to be, she thought. She thought for a long moment before she slowly said, "I think I would prove myself to be a liability if I were to go along."
Bill spread his hands. "There shouldn't be any conflict or fighting," he said slowly. "Tonks is coming along as a precaution, and she, Fleur, and Charlie can take care of any unexpected circumstances."
Mairead shook her head. She could feel her face growing warm. "N-no, I... I just don't - I don't think I would contribute."
"Now is not the time for modesty," Bill said, smiling encouragingly at her. "You've already contributed significantly! Your knowledge of that house is what's made this whole thing possible, Mairead. I need you there; it's as simple as that."
Anxiety started roiling in Mairead's belly. She looked around the table for help. "Erm," she said softly, "where is Mr. Moody?" Surely the grizzled old Auror would have a thing or two to say about this plan.
"He is away for a few days," answered Dumbledore. "He will be back late next week."
Mairead closed her eyes at her bad luck. "Bill," she said softly. "Please, just trust me on this? You do not want me there."
Bill sent an incredulous look over at Charlie, who said, "Mairead, I've heard Bill's plan - the whole thing hinges on you being there. You won't be in any danger. Malfoy might not even be there."
"Eet's true," Fleur spoke up. "I asked at ze Registry, and zey said zat Malfoy oftentimes leaves ze 'ouse for ze tours. 'E does not like to be zair."
Mairead was already shaking her head before Fleur finished. "No," she said quietly but firmly. "I just - I don't - it's not safe. It's not a good idea."
Charlie gave her a look of exasperation. "Being in the Order is not safe," he said, frustration seeping into his tone. "Whoever goes is going to be taking a risk. That's what we signed up for. You do realize that anyone who would replace you would also be taking a risk, don't you? Don't you think that's a little cowardly to make someone else go because you're too scared?"
Mairead's mouth opened but all that came out was a tiny squeak of protest. Her heart was pounding and the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up in alarm at the thought of setting foot back in the Malfoys' house. She had to find some way to get Bill to see what a dreadful mistake he was making, but she didn't know how to explain it to him without beginning to cry right in front of the whole Order.
"We need you," Charlie said insistently. "You have to go."
"No, she doesn't."
Mairead's head whipped over to look at Remus, who had at last looked up from his hands.
"Going on missions has always been strictly voluntary, Charlie," said Remus, speaking quietly but with finality. "You cannot conscript someone who doesn't want to go. She doesn't want to go. Bill needs to find someone else."
Bill looked back and forth between Mairead and Remus a few times, looking stressed and resigned.
"Whom else did you have in mind, Bill?" Dumbledore repeated his question from earlier.
Bill mouthed wordlessly for a few moments. "I - I'm going to need to rethink this if Mairead isn't coming, sir," he said at last. "We might have to wait for another month - I don't know if I can revamp the plan and leave us with enough time to prepare."
Dumbledore nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but Charlie leaned forward, looking agitated, and spoke first.
"There's no one else, sir," he said doggedly. "I've heard Bill's plans, and they're solid as rock, but without Mairead they're... we've got nothing. She's been in that house. She has intimate, firsthand knowledge of secrets rooms and hideaways that aren't even on the blueprints! Malfoy's office - it's not the office labeled on the blueprints. That's a decoy. We never would've known that without Mairead. And the real office? Its entrance is concealed behind a portrait that bloody moves around the house." He stopped here and pointed at Mairead as he emphatically continued. "She's seen the portrait. She's been in Malfoy's real office! She's the only one of us who can identify it, and I'm pretty damn sure she's the only one who can get us inside it, because the portrait only opens for a drop of blood from a blood relative to one of the three boys in the portrait, and her father is one of the boys in the portrait!" He paused and looked back over at Mairead. "Please come with us, Mairead," he said. "Please. We can't do this without you."
Mairead looked desperately over at Bill, silently pleading with him to refute what his brother had just said. Instead, he smiled hopefully at her. "What do you think, Mairead? Will you do me a humongous favor? Just this once?"
Mairead was breathing in uneven gasps. Her heart felt like it was on a trapeze inside her chest. Self-preservation and utter terror battled with the guilt and obligation howling inside her. She looked around for help and saw that everyone at the table had sided with Bill and Charlie. Even Sirius was giving her a what the fuck is your problem? look. The only person whom Mairead felt may have been on her side was refusing to look at her.
She felt completely alone and friendless, and there was only one thing she could do to fix the situation.
"Okay," she whispered.
There was a collective groan of relief from around the table. Bill heaved a sigh and said, "Thank Merlin!" Sturgis clapped her on the back with a, "good man!" and Sirius grinned doggishly at her and gave her the thumbs up. The only people who did not look happy with her change of heart were Remus, who was back to staring at his hands, now clenched into fists, and Dumbledore, who was looking at her seriously over the top of his half-moon spectacles.
Neither of them pushed the issue though, and the meeting continued.
She sat in a daze for the rest of the meeting, feeling as though her stomach were full of rocks. There was a buzzing in her ears that became louder and louder until she was unable to hear any of the plans for their infiltration of Malfoy Manor. She dimly hoped that someone would be able to tell her what the plan was, as she only had four days to prepare for it. By the end of the meeting, the buzzing in her head had developed into a full-blown migraine. Pain pulsed between her temples in time with her heartbeat, and she wondered somewhat listlessly whether she was going to be sick.
Dread had been on a slow drip into her for the entire meeting, and now it seemed that it would drown her.
She was going back to Malfoy Manor. Everything, every molecule that made up her being, protested against this knowledge. She was going back to Malfoy Manor. So many of the mechanisms she had developed over the years to cope with the crippling anxiety and panic attacks she experienced had their foundation in the promise she had made to herself that she would never again have to set foot in any of the places that had been the settings of her childhood horrors. By agreeing to be on Bill's team, she had broken one of the fundamental promises she had made to herself. She had taken away one of the pillars that held up her - at times - incredibly fragile mental health.
I'm going back to Malfoy Manor.
I am going back to Malfoy Manor.
"Mairead."
I am going back to Malfoy Manor.
"Mairead."
I am going back to -
"Mairead."
Mairead jumped and looked around. She was the only person sitting at the table. Everyone else had left. Everyone else, that was, except Remus, who was standing on the opposite side of the table trying to get her attention.
Mairead met Remus's eyes for the first time in a week. She was hazily aware of the concern she saw in them, but her entire face felt like it was somehow numb and tingling at the same time, and she couldn't quite muster up the enthusiasm she would have had earlier.
"Are you all right?" he asked her quietly.
Her brain felt too sludgy to be able to form a response. She was having trouble focusing her eyes.
His frown, an ever-present feature of late, deepened. "Mairead, I think you're making a mistake," he said seriously. "I think you were right to decline this mission, and I think you ought to go and speak with Bill right now about finding a replacement."
She blinked. She was slowly fighting her way up through the pool of dread she had been sinking through like a stone, and when her head broke the surface, the first fresh emotion that hit her was anger.
"Oh, so now we're talking again?" she said coolly.
Remus briefly broke eye contact. He hadn't quite managed to hide the guilt on his face before he wiped his expression free again.
"Is that how this works, then?" she asked, pushing herself to her feet. "You talk to me whenever it pleases you, you ignore me whenever it pleases you, and I'm supposed to just, what? Smile and thank you when you grace me with your attention?"
"Mairead, this is important," he said. Underneath the determination, she could hear the shame in his voice.
She scoffed. "Oh, sure," she drawled sarcastically. "That figures. A week of silence, a week of avoiding me like the Dragonpox, of fucking running away when you see me coming, and you resurface for what? To talk? To work things out? No, of course not. No, you poke your head out of the foxhole to make sure I haven't forgotten that I'm a Squib. Thanks very much."
Remus's eyes met hers again, and she could see them sparking, like lightning flashing across a stormy sky. "That's not what this is about," he said in a low voice. "And I think you know that."
"I think you make a lot of assumptions," she rejoined.
For a few moments, she and Remus stared each other down from across the table. Mairead could see his chest rising and falling as he took deep breaths, a muscle jumping in his jaw.
"You're making a mistake," he repeated, his words a soft plea.
"I seem to be making a lot of those lately."
As soon as the words were out of her mouth she regretted them. As guarded as Remus was, he couldn't hide the hurt that flashed across his eyes. He looked away and Mairead was instantly filled with remorse. She opened her mouth, an apology at the ready, but it died on the tip of her tongue when he met her eyes again and she saw that his walls were back up. She couldn't reach him, and trying would only make her feel like a fool.
"Yes," he agreed quietly. "You do."
Mairead ducked her head, feeling ashamed. "Remus," she began, "I'm sorr-"
"Do what you wish," he cut her off, voice as flat and expressionless as his face. "But perhaps you should stop letting other people dictate what you do and what you feel. Perhaps you'd do well to think for yourself once in a while."
He turned on his heel and walked out, leaving Mairead completely and utterly alone.
Just like I've always been.
Author's Note: Ouch. I know you may have been hoping for a quick reconciliation, but c'mon, with these two? Not likely. I hope you enjoyed it anyway! Next week's will be action-packed!
Song for Chapter 15: "Should I Stay or Should I Go?" by The Clash (Mairead)