Author's Note: Before we get started, I wanted to make sure to include a ***CONTENT WARNING*** that this chapter contains depictions of violence, torture, and spousal and child abuse. The version of this chapter that appears on this site has been edited to make the content less graphic, but those elements are still present. An unedited version of this chapter can be found on Ao3 under the same name, but over there my pen name is FuzzyCatSocks. Please let me know if you try to find it and run into any trouble.
I hope you enjoy whichever version you decide to read!
Chapter Sixteen: Manners and Manors
Mairead awoke, and was at once beset with the question of whether she had screamed out loud or only in her dream.
She lay on the couch shivering, her sweat rapidly cooling on her body and leaving her feeling cold and sick. She had always suffered from occasional nightmares, and they usually became more frequent during times of stress, like during finals in school, but it had been years since her nightmares had hit her every single time she fell asleep. Thinking back, she realized that her dreams had not been this bad since she had first arrived at St. Hedwig's ten years ago.
Only then, she'd had a dormitory full of other girls ready to wake her and soothe her, bring her a glass of water, brush her hair back, reassure her that they had all been where she was and that she would get through it.
Now, she had no one.
Mairead had frequently been feeling pangs and stabs of loneliness lately. Even though she had eventually agreed to be on Bill's team, she felt unwanted there. She was sure that her reluctance had stained her in the eyes of many members of the Order. Even Sirius had been shooting her confused or exasperated glances during their planning meetings, which, granted, Mairead knew was largely due to how useless she had been in them.
They had been meeting every day for the past three days, and no matter how many cups of coffee Mairead drank or how hard she tried, she simply could not concentrate in them. She had never been one to space out (except in History of Magic classes, which she felt did not count), but there had been more than one occasion when she had come out of a reverie and realized that she had not heard a word that had been spoken for she knew not how long. She could tell that everyone's patience with her was wearing thin.
Mairead had never thought that she could hate an Order assignment as much as she hated this one. She hated every moment she had to think about it. She hated that she was letting the team down. She hated that there seemed to be nothing she could do about her incompetence. She hated that all of this was happening right in front of Remus. She hated that she still cared so much about what he thought of her.
Most of all, though, she hated that this had made her hate herself for the first time since she had left Hogwarts.
With a quiet groan, she rolled off the couch and tumbled to the ground. She had lain down in the hopes of sleeping off the sick headache that had been plaguing her ever since Saturday. She pushed herself to her feet and was instantly hit by a wave of nausea as the throbbing pain took up again. She pressed her fingertips to her eyebrows, but the pain she felt became so intense that she feared she would be sick. Screwing up her face, she blearily looked at her watch, then began scrabbling for her wand.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck -" she muttered.
She turned on her heel and reappeared on Grimmauld Place. The blazing heat of a late summer day hit her as soon as she landed, but she ignored the sickening humidity and bolted up the street for number twelve.
She let herself in and hurried as quietly as she could, dashing up the stairs and skidding to a halt in the doorway of the drawing room, where Bill, Charlie, Fleur, Tonks, Remus, and Sirius were already gathered.
"Sorry," she panted, hurrying over to the table where the others were crowded. Sirius gave her a look of irritated exasperation.
"What the hell is up with you lately?" he muttered to her.
"Sorry," she repeated. She forced herself to look Bill in the eye. "I'm sorry I'm late, Bill."
"Never mind," said Bill tersely. "Do you have the drawing?"
Mairead blinked. "The drawing?" she repeated.
Bill's eyebrows twitched. "The drawing I asked you to make of Malfoy's office?"
Mairead closed her eyes. "Shit," she whispered. "I forgot."
"Putain de merde," she heard Fleur mutter. Based on the tone of the woman's voice, Mairead was very grateful she did not speak French.
Bill sighed. "Mairead, the tour is the day after tomorrow," he said, sounding like she was trying his very last ounce of patience. "I know you're not thrilled about this assignment, but I do need you to take it seriously."
"I know," she said quickly. "I'm sorry, Bill. I'll try harder."
Bill looked hard at her, as if trying to discern what exactly was the matter with her.
"Here," Remus said suddenly, reaching for a quill and a piece of parchment. "We can do the drawing now. It'll only take a few minutes." His eyes flicked to Mairead for the briefest of moments. "Why don't you describe the room to me and I'll draw it out?"
Mairead's mouth opened and closed soundlessly. What am I supposed to describe? she thought. It's the scariest place imaginable. Can you jot that down?
"What does the room look like, Mairead?" prompted Sirius.
"Err, it's... it's..." she faltered.
"How big is it?" Remus asked patiently.
Mairead looked at him helplessly.
"As big as this one?" Remus prompted, indicating the drawing room they were in.
"Erm, it's - it's like -" she gestured at the width of the room. "But it's not as..." she gestured again, feeling like an absolute idiot.
But Remus understood her perfectly, like he always had. "It's as wide as this room but not as long?"
She nodded.
Remus glanced up at the width of the room, then sketched out a diagram of a square space. He jotted down an estimated range of measurements.
"Any windows?" he asked.
Mairead shook her head.
"Fireplace?"
"Yes," she murmured. "On - on the wall..." she pointed at the drawing. "If the entrance is here, the fireplace is there."
Remus nodded and sketched where she indicated.
"What furniture is in the space?"
Remus calmly and efficiently walked her through what information was needed to be able to make a diagram of the room. While she spoke, his quill raced across the parchment, faithfully depicting everything she said. As the drawing took on more detail, Mairead's stomach began to twist and turn on itself. If seeing a hastily drawn sketch of the room was enough to make Mairead feel like she was about to faint, she was loathe to think what it would be like to be back in the space itself.
"Anything else you can think of?" Remus said, preparing to finish off the drawing. "Is there anything I've missed?"
Mairead swallowed, tasting the tang of adrenaline. "There's - in one corner - there's a drain. Right there." She reached over and pointed, her finger hovering over the parchment, too afraid even to touch the drawing.
Remus frowned. "A drain?" he asked, sounding confused.
Mairead gulped again and nodded. "Like a... like a grate? It's about -" she indicated the size of it with her hands.
Remus stared at her hands uncomprehendingly, but nevertheless roughed out a patch of floor where she had pointed and labeled it, drain. "Here, Bill," he said when he had finished, holding the drawing up.
Bill looked up from the separate conversation he had been having with Charlie, Sirius, Fleur, and Tonks. "Thanks, Remus," he said gratefully, not sparing a look for Mairead.
"I'm sorry," Mairead said to no one in particular, but no one was listening. Now that Bill had the drawing in hand, he steered the conversation to mapping out the best ways to search the house for the portrait.
Mairead concentrated as best she could, pinching her lip painfully to punish herself whenever she noticed that she had spaced out again.
By the time the meeting broke up, the pounding in Mairead's head had become so intense that she fled the room as soon as she was released, ran to the nearest bathroom, and vomited up bile into the toilet.
Bill happened to be passing and spotted her as she emerged from the loo, wiping a hand over her cold, clammy face.
"Hey," he said, looking at her with concern. "Listen, I don't mean to be harsh, but I really need you to get your shit together."
Mairead nodded, feeling miserably childish and guilty.
"I'm trying not to dress you down in front of the others," Bill went on, folding his arms in front of him. "Particularly as I know you admire Remus so much. But you've got to step up. Tomorrow is our last day before the tour. I need you to be on time. I need you to pay attention. I need you to do the things you say you're going to do. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Bill," said Mairead miserably.
"Okay," said Bill, looking her up and down. "Is there anything you need from me?"
Mairead hesitated. She stared at the ground, trying with all her might not to have to ask the question that she knew she was going to have to ask. In the end, however, she gave up.
"Can you please remind me what I'm supposed to do before the meeting tomorrow?"
Things felt as though they could scarcely get any worse for Mairead. Though she tried her best, she continued to be flighty and inattentive, not only at the next day's planning meeting, but at work, too. Additionally, Mairead had gone to the Combat Arts Academy to try to regain a sense of empowerment and had wound up losing her head entirely when the group began practicing getting out of groundholds and she'd had to leave the room because she was crying. Coach Omer had told her to wait in his office, and when he had come in after class, he had asked Mairead if everything was "all right at home."
Everything was most certainly not all right at home. Mairead urgently needed someone she could talk to; someone who would understand her. She wanted Remus's comforting presence and reassuring steadiness so badly that thinking about how much she missed him brought her to tears - not that that was terribly difficult to do of late. But Remus was still not talking to her except when he absolutely had to, and his attitude of polite indifference had grown increasingly strained over the past several days. As for the other members of the team, their reactions to her unreliable behavior seemed to range from puzzled and concerned to fed up and frustrated. Even Sirius, whom Mairead had come to see as a loyal friend, seemed completely at a loss to understand her reluctance to take on an exciting and pivotal mission. She regularly daydreamed about getting into her car, driving north until she reached the remotest place she could find, and living out her days completely separated from anyone who could ever be disappointed in her.
Mairead hadn't felt this alone since she had been driving cars for a living, seeing no one except the occasional clerk at a petrol station. Except, when she had been driving those cars, she had been corresponding with Cedric regularly. His letters had kept her company on the road, and had prevented her from feeling totally isolated. Whenever her thoughts strayed back to her best friend, how badly she longed for him, and how she would never see him again, it inevitably ended in helpless tears.
The day of the tour arrived. Mairead had been up vomiting all night, and felt dead on her feet as she stumbled her way to the drawing room, where she was to meet the rest of the team. At least she was on time and positive that she was not supposed to have brought anything other than the listening device that she was clutching in her hand.
She was relieved to see that she was not the last to arrive, but still, no one greeted her except Bill, who nodded at her and offered her a small, strained smile. She dropped into a chair and stared off into space.
When Tonks arrived - the last of their group - Bill went over the plan one more time.
The four members of the away team were to go in two groups - Charlie with Fleur, Tonks with Mairead. Tonks and Mairead would split off from the tour to hunt for the portrait, while Charlie and Fleur would remain with the tour group and send a warning signal should it appear that Tonks and Mairead were about to get caught. When they found the portrait, they were to rejoin the group, alert Charlie and Fleur, and they would then split off together. Charlie and Fleur would stand guard at the entrance while Tonks accompanied Mairead into Malfoy's office to plant the listening device. They would then make their way back to the tour group, finish out the tour of the house, and leave through the front door.
It seemed simple. It seemed perfectly reasonable.
Mairead wondered dully how exactly she was going to fuck it up.
Bill, Charlie, Fleur, Sirius, Remus, and Tonks all stood in a group, talking quietly and waiting for word from Kingsley as to whether Malfoy had come into his office today. As she watched the others converse, Mairead felt horribly left out. Resentment began to build within her. She hadn't even wanted to be on this team, and now she was being excluded? She gnawed on her thumbnail lugubriously and wished she could be anywhere but where she was.
Anywhere but where she was and Malfoy Manor, of course.
But it was too late to wish for that, as a tap on the window soon roused everyone's attention. Sirius hurried over to the window to let in an owl, who stuck out a leg with a small scroll of parchment tied to it. He hastily relieved the owl of its burden, unfurled the parchment, and read its contents.
"Malfoy's in his office at the Ministry," Sirius said with a triumphant grin.
"All right, let's go, team," said Bill, clapping his hands once.
Mairead got to her feet, praying that she wouldn't be sick. Fleur took out her wand and began waving it over Charlie's head. Charlie's hair appeared to shimmer, like his head was caught in a heat wave, and then the color and texture of his hair began to shift before Mairead's eyes. As Mairead watched, Fleur changed Charlie's short, red hair to appear shaggy and chestnut brown. She changed the color of his eyes, the shape of his nose and mouth, cleared the freckles from his face, and covered over the various burn scars on his arms.
"How d'you know how to do Glamour charms, Fleur?" asked Tonks curiously. She herself had changed her appearance to make herself look like a frumpy old woman who appeared to be in her seventies or eighties.
Fleur tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Any girl should know 'ow to make ze most out of 'er appearance," she said loftily, casting a significant glance at Mairead as she spoke.
Tonks snorted. "Do you know how to make the most out of your appearance, then, Mairead?" she asked her quietly.
"Absolutely," Mairead said sourly. "That's why I'm using a Disillusionment Charm. Because sometimes making the most out of your appearance means not having one."
Tonks laughed and for a moment Mairead felt a bit lighter. But then Bill turned to her and said, "Are you able to perform a Disillusionment Charm, or do you need one of us to do it for you?"
Mairead contemplated shooting a sharp remark back at Bill in retaliation for the thoughtless, no doubt unintentional, slight, but instead she just gritted her teeth and wordlessly rapped herself hard over the head with her wand, feeling the Charm trickle down over her body.
Bill checked his watch. "All right," he said, "time to head out."
Mairead brought up the rear as everyone headed for the door, but before she could follow everyone out into the corridor, Remus turned and cornered her.
"Are you sure you're up for this?" he murmured.
"Does it matter?" she retorted.
"Yes, of course it does," he said, frowning. "It's not too late to back out of this."
Mairead's lip curled, not that he would be able to see it. "It's been too late for me to back out of this since before I even knew I was in it," she said bitterly.
"Mairead -" Remus began, but broke off when they heard Bill's voice from the corridor.
"Mairead?" There was an exasperated sigh. "Goddammit, where is she?"
"Bill," came Fleur's voice in a quiet, confidential tone. "Perhaps we would be better off wizzout -"
"I'm here," called Mairead, shooting a nasty glare at Remus that she half wished he could see as she pushed past him and out into the corridor. "I'm Disillusioned, remember?"
Bill looked around in the direction of her voice. "Yes, well, try to keep up, will you?" he said, sounding like she was trying his last nerve. "No one'll be able to babysit you on this. I need you to stay with the group."
Babysit?
Mairead didn't bother to respond.
"All right, we're to arrive in two groups," Tonks spoke up, redirecting the conversation. "Ready?"
Mairead checked her pockets for the listening device once more, then followed the three other members of the away team out the door.
Charlie paused at the bottom of the steps, looked around, and gave the signal with his hand. As one, all four Order members turned on the spot and disappeared with four small pops.
Mairead kept her eyes closed for as long as she could after materializing at the wrought-iron entrance gates to Malfoy Manor, clinging to her last moments of not being here. Someone gave a long, low whistle, and she forced herself to open her eyes.
For several long moments, Mairead was certain that she was going to be sick. She stared at the ground and fought back waves of hot, sickening nausea, taking deep breaths and telling herself, don't throw up, don't throw up, don't throw up. Eventually, she was able to look up. She still felt dizzy and light-headed, but the imminent threat of vomiting had passed.
She saw a line of people, some milling about clutching papers, some taking photos, some in a queue to speak with the tour guide. Charlie stepped forward to join the queue, and Mairead numbly followed him, taking care not to let her footsteps crunch on the gravel driveway, as she was supposed to be invisible. She saw Tonks standing on tiptoe, craning her neck to get a good look at the house in the distance. For her part, Mairead ducked her head and stood so that Charlie's broad shoulders blocked the view.
When they reached the front of the queue, Charlie asked for two tickets - one for himself and one for Fleur - and handed over the money for the suggested donation, which had been provided by Dumbledore. When he stepped out of the queue, Mairead's vision was suddenly full of Malfoy Manor, and she swayed unsteadily on her feet.
Dimly, it occurred to her that she was not needed in the queue, as she was not currently visible, and she stumbled over to where Charlie and Fleur were standing. She felt as though her head was full of dry, hot cotton, and there was a whooshing sound in her ears. Closing her eyes again, Mairead tried to focus, using the grounding technique Sister Mary Margaret had taught her years ago.
I can feel the ground beneath my feet. I can feel the sun on my skin. I can smell fresh air and flowers. I can hear Fleur talking shit about me because she doesn't know I'm standing right here. I can breathe. I am alive. I am safe.
"All right, ladies and gentlemen, if you would all kindly gather over here!"
The voice of the tour guide cut through Mairead's grounding exercise, and the fragile bubble of safety she had been building popped.
Everyone shuffled and milled closer to the guide: a middle-aged, cheerful witch wearing a visor and an enormous smile. She was wearing comfortable-looking shoes and had a fanny pack cinching the waist of her teal robes.
"Welcome to Malfoy Manor!" the tour guide exclaimed. "My name is Cindy, and I will be your guide to this one-of-a-kind, truly magical estate! If you'll all follow me, we will walk up the drive as a group. Kindly stay with the group -" Here her smile widened even further as she eyed a pair of grandparents trying to corral their young grandchildren as they frolicked around in the grass. "This tour will include the grounds and outbuildings, so you'll have plenty of time to spend out in this marvelous weather!"
Charlie leaned over towards Tonks. "Try to find the portrait and get back to the group before the tour of the grounds," he muttered out of the side of his mouth. "When everyone goes outside will be a perfect time for us to break off all together."
Tonks nodded.
Mairead took deep, quivering breaths as they neared the dark wooden doors. The tour guide turned around and used both hands to open the doors, then walked backwards into the entrance hall. Everyone pushed forwards, a human tide carrying Mairead along with them. As she looked up at the two identical towers flanking the main entrance, she felt as tiny and powerless as she had been every time she had come here.
"Malfoy Manor is nearly ten centuries old. It was built by Armand Malfoy," the tour guide began, her voice echoing around the grandiose entrance hall. It became difficult to discern what she was saying over the echoes bouncing off the walls.
"Holy fuck," she heard Tonks whisper as she took in the improbably high ceilings, the green wallpaper covered in fleur-de-lis in a darker shade of green - Mairead flinched as she remembered tracing one of the flowers with her fingers once and the punishment she had received for touching the walls - the silver filigree liberally coating the walls and ceiling, the portraits and the statues, the carpet so thick that no footfall could be heard, even though the crowd was large.
Tonks's head was turning this way and that, swiveling so readily that it was adding to Mairead's queasiness to watch her. As they walked through an ornate archway and into the first of many sitting rooms, Tonks looked around at the plethora of artwork. "We're going to have one hell of a time finding this portrait," she muttered. "Ready to get started?"
Mairead nodded, then remembered that Tonks could not see her. "Sure," she said, her voice coming out high and unnatural.
They hung back, Tonks admiring a statue of a child removing a thorn from her finger, and let the other tourists flood past them. They waited there, staying still and silent, until the tour guide's voice faded away. Then, Tonks turned and stared, narrow-eyed, at the blurry outline that was Mairead. "Right," she said, still in a whisper. "Where should we start?"
"The wine cellar," said Mairead promptly.
"Lead the way," said Tonks.
Almost immediately, they ran into a hiccough with their plan. It turned out that having someone lead the way who was mostly invisible had its issues. Mairead tried leading Tonks by the hand, but that seemed only to result in decreasing Tonks's overall sense of balance.
"It's no good," Tonks said after tripping for the sixth time. "You're going to have to end the Disillusionment."
Things went more quickly after Mairead was visible again. She kept her eyes down and took in as little of her surroundings as she could manage. She hurried through the familiar rooms and corridors until they arrived at the kitchen a few minutes later, Mairead slightly out of breath but Tonks looking fresh and fit as ever.
"I'm just going to check that Dobby's not in there," Mairead whispered. Tonks kept a lookout while she pushed the swinging door open and stuck just enough of her head inside to have a look around. When she saw that the coast was clear, Mairead waved Tonks in with a hand and stepped into the kitchen.
She had come in here many times as a young girl, seeking to escape the cruelty and danger of her father and his friends and finding refuge in the company of the Malfoys' green-eyed, floppy-eared family elf. Dobby would always let her sit on the pile of towels in the warm corner by the stove where he slept and would bring her warm milk to sip. Mairead had loved Dobby, and had often hugged and kissed him and pet his ears as though he were a family pet and not a servant.
The moment these memories surfaced - as swiftly as a candle blowing out - it was as though she were a child again. Terror filled her at the sight of her father and Malfoy walking into the kitchen and finding her sitting on Dobby's bed consorting with a house-elf. She watched, wide-eyed and paralyzed with fear, as her father rushed towards her and pulled her to her feet by her hair. She could feel the tearing pain in her scalp as she was dragged out of the kitchen, could feel her father's calloused hands as she tore at them with her own fingers, seeking to free herself from his merciless grip. The last thing she saw before the door swung closed was Malfoy kicking Dobby so hard he was knocked clear across the room.
"Mairead - Mairead!"
With a sharp intake of breath, Mairead came to. "What is it?" she asked groggily, blinking in confusion at Tonks, whose face was a picture of disquiet.
"Er - which door leads to the wine cellar?"
"That one," Mairead pointed to the door with the round, bronze handle.
Tonks pulled the door open and gestured with a hand for Mairead to go through first. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked as she closed the door behind her.
"I'm fine," said Mairead in a tone that did not invite further questions. The cellar was not lit, it not being a part of the tour, and so Mairead pulled out her wand and lit the tip as she descended the staircase. Behind her, Tonks did the same.
They looked around when they reached the bottom of the stairs. The room smelled like cedar, oak, and hints of cherry.
After she got her bearings, Mairead said, "It should be over here," and set off towards the row of racks where she remembered the portrait being hidden.
When she leaned over and looked behind the rack, however, she saw nothing but bare wall. Frowning, Mairead rotated slowly on the spot.
"Maybe I got turned around," she said, and headed off for the opposite side of the cellar.
She and Tonks searched the entire cellar, shining their wands behind every barrel, rack, and around every corner, but the portrait was nowhere to be found.
"We'd better keep searching," said Tonks, checking her watch. "This place is massive. There are plenty of other places we can look."
Mairead followed her back up to the kitchen, and kept her eyes on the ground until they were back out in the corridor.
Mairead led Tonks around the main floor, muscle memory guiding her around, but they were unable to find the portrait. Twice they had to duck into a room and hold their breath while the tour ambled past them.
Tonks suggested that they head up to the top of the house and work their way down, to maximize their time away from the tour. The house was sprawling rather than tall, and so Mairead and Tonks only had three majestically ornate staircases to climb to the top floor. Together they hastily searched room by room for the portrait.
"Bloody hell," Tonks mused as they left yet another magnificently appointed guest bedroom and started down to the next level. "Can you imagine what it would be like to live in a place like this?"
Mairead didn't answer her, but instead focused on counting the number of stairs, timing her breathing and concentrating on the smooth feel of the railing beneath her hand.
The portrait was not in the library, nor was it in any of Draco's rooms. When they reached the master suite - which comprised the entire east wing of the third floor - Mairead heard a loud gasp from Tonks and ran into the bathroom, but only found Tonks marveling at the bathtub.
"Holy fuck, it's the size of a swimming pool!" Tonks exclaimed, mouth hanging open. "I'd kill for a bath like this, wouldn't you?"
"I can feel the ground beneath my feet," Mairead said faintly, backing out of the room.
"Huh?" asked Tonks, then, "Hey - are you all right?"
"I can breathe. I am alive." Mairead wandered off, breath becoming shallow as another wave of nausea washed over her. They had to speed this up. She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take.
When they finished searching the third floor and descended to the second, they were back to dodging around the tourists. Mairead led Tonks from room to room, growing increasingly frantic the more time they spent searching. The portrait wasn't in the morning room. It was not in the sitting room. It was not in any of the art galleries and it was not in the family room. They started into the library but had to turn back when they came upon the tour.
"Let's search the office while they're in there," said Mairead, heading off to the room next to the library.
They entered through the heavy, dark wooden doors and closed them quietly behind themselves. Malfoy's decoy office was large and intimidating. Floor-to-ceiling windows took up an entire wall, drenching the room, with its green and silver striped wallpaper, in daylight. Directly in front of the windows stood Malfoy's colossal desk, and the chair that sat behind it was so high that anyone else would be dwarfed sitting in the other chairs dotted around the room. Across from the desk was a fireplace large enough for a family of four to stand shoulder-to-shoulder inside. Tonks circled the office, awed by the grandeur. Her foot caught on a footstool and she stumbled, but fortunately her tumble was muffled by the thick silver carpeting. While Tonks righted herself, Mairead stared around at the walls. Like all of the other rooms, Malfoy's office was covered in artwork. But as her eyes flitted from painting to painting, she felt the now-familiar feeling of combined disappointment and relief. The portrait was not in here.
She turned to Tonks and shrugged.
"Well, it must be in the library, then," said Tonks. "Wonder when they'll be done -"
They did not have long to wonder. As Mairead followed Tonks for the door, she saw what had made Tonks break off in mid-sentence.
The doorknob was twisting.
Mairead could now hear the tour guide out in the corridor, reciting information and statistics about the room they were about to enter. The room that Tonks and Mairead were standing right in the middle of.
Mairead launched herself forward and seized Tonks by the arm. Turning, she tugged Tonks along behind her and made for the large, double-doored closet on the opposite side of the room. She felt Tonks stumble behind her, but the Auror caught herself and followed Mairead readily into the cramped space. Mairead had just latched the doors when the tour guide's voice grew louder and clearer as the crowd entered the room.
Mairead rested her forehead against the wood and let out a sigh of relief, trying to control her racing heart. The office itself was so well-lit that, once her eyes adjusted, she could actually see fairly well just from the light that spilled in through the cracks in the doors. Looking over at Tonks, she saw her grin and make an exaggerated gesture of wiping the sweat from her brow.
Tonks's hand stilled mid-gesture. The grin slid off her face and her mouth formed an 'o' as she looked past Mairead's right shoulder. Slowly, she lowered her hand from her forehead and pointed at something behind Mairead. "Is that...?"
Mairead turned and her breath caught. Sitting right behind her, tucked in between a line of robes hanging from a rack, was a picture frame. Mairead reached for it. She grasped the edge of the frame and tugged. It made a scraping sound along the floor. She paused and looked back at Tonks, who shook her head and held a finger to her lips.
The two waited, tucked into the cramped closet, while the tour guide went on and on. The longer she waited, the more Mairead's trepidation grew. She wanted to let go of the frame, positive of its contents, wanting nothing to do with them, but at the same time she feared that the moment she released it, it would disappear. She felt her hand grow slick with perspiration as she held on.
Waiting in the dark closet created the perfect environment for her anxiety. Claustrophobia set in and it became difficult to breathe as memories of other small, dark spaces she had squeezed herself into to hide from her father and his friends caught up with her and began to circle her like a pack of jackals, looking for an in. She held her eyes shut tight and did her best to keep them at bay. Any moment now the door would be wrenched open and her father would be standing there. She would be dragged out of her hiding spot and her punishment for whatever crime she had committed in the eyes of her father would be tenfold more severe for having run from him.
She could hear her breath starting to wheeze. She felt herself being pulled down into the past and bit down hard on her lip to tether herself to the present.
"They're gone," came Tonks's voice from beside her.
Mairead opened her eyes. She reached for the door handle and squinted as light from the sun-drenched office came streaming into their hiding place. She looked over at Tonks questioningly, and at her nod, tightened her grip on the picture frame and tugged it away from the robes.
It felt as though something were alive in Mairead's stomach. The feeling of dread that had been following her since the Order meeting slammed into her full force as she took in the painting.
Lucius Malfoy was in the center and slightly in front of the two boys who were flanking him. Seeing Malfoy here at the age of eleven, with his pale grey eyes and platinum blonde hair, reminded Mairead what a remarkable resemblance Draco bore to his father. On Lucius's left-hand side was Rudolphus Lestrange. Rudolphus had always been heavyset, but by the time Mairead knew him the baby fat he sported in this portrait would be transformed into muscle and brawn. He glared confidently at her out of eyes nearly the same shade of dark brown as his hair.
And to the right of Lucius stood Kenneth O'Keefe. Mairead took a cowardly step back; she couldn't help herself. Even as a child Kenneth was intimidating. His curly brown hair was longer in childhood than he had worn it as an adult, and the dark green eyes he had passed down to Mairead held the promise of violence even in youth.
"Which one's your dad?" asked Tonks, eliciting a start from Mairead. She had forgotten she was there. "Oh," Tonks said before Mairead could respond. She pointed to Kenneth, then looked appraisingly at Mairead. "The eyes. Yeah."
"Yeah," Mairead echoed shortly.
"Well, we'd better get back to the group," said Tonks, turning to go. "They're probably going to be heading out to the grounds soon."
Mairead nodded and readily backed out of the closet, anxious to put as much space between herself and the portrait as possible.
Mairead was barely aware of her surroundings as Tonks strode confidently off in the direction of the staircase. When they caught up with the group, Tonks stepped forward and subtly tapped Charlie, who was standing at the back of the crowd of tourists, on the shoulder.
Charlie turned and his face fell at the sight of them. "What the bloody hell are you playing at?" he hissed, glaring at Mairead. "Why the fuck did you cancel your Disillusionment?"
Mairead and Tonks looked at each other in alarm. Mairead had completely forgotten that they had lifted the spell.
"I'm sorry!" Mairead moaned.
Charlie turned and looked over his shoulder at the group of tourists. "It's too risky to Disillusion you again now," he muttered. "We'd just draw more attention to ourselves."
With a final disgruntled look at Mairead, he turned to face the front again.
Mairead gnawed anxiously on her bottom lip as she trudged along at the back of the group. Charlie clearly shared his brother's misgivings about her involvement in the mission. Unlike Bill, however, Charlie was not quite as adept at controlling his temper, and Mairead knew he was already angry with her for her previous missteps. Her hand kept nervously drifting to the pocket she had the listening device inside, checking it was still there.
Finally, after what seemed both like eons and mere seconds, the tour guide led them back to the main level.
"If you will all follow me outside, now," she said with another wide smile. "You will have the pleasure of viewing some of the finest grounds in all of England. Malfoy Manor sits on over three hundred acres of lush, verdant..." Her voice drifted off as she backed out the door and set off back down the path. Charlie, Fleur, Tonks, and Mairead hung back, letting the others flock ahead of them. Then, they ducked around a corner and into a small sitting room.
"Charlie, don't be mad at Mairead," Tonks said at once, wringing her hands. "It was my idea to cancel the Disillusionment Charm -"
Charlie held up a hand to stop her. "That's nice of you, Tonks, but just -" he broke off and shook his head. "Did you find the portrait?" he asked.
"Yes," said Tonks. "It's upstairs in the closet of the decoy office."
"Let's head up there now," Charlie said. He shot a look at Mairead. "You did bring the bug, didn't you?"
"Yes, Charlie," said Mairead in a tiny voice.
"Well, at least there's that," he said. He withdrew his wand and nodded for Fleur to do the same. Mairead noticed that a muscle was working in his jaw.
Just get through this, she coached herself. You can leave the country after you complete this mission.
Taking a deep breath, Mairead followed after the others, scurrying to keep up with their longer legs.
They re-entered the office and made straight for the closet. Charlie and Fleur each took an end of the portrait, pulling it out of the closet and leaning it against the wall.
"What do you think you are doing?" demanded young Lucius Malfoy, looking outraged. "You can't just drag me about! Do you have any idea who I am?"
Charlie ignored him and jerked his head at Mairead. "Over here," he said. Mairead stepped forward, quaking with nerves. Charlie reached into his pocket and withdrew a small pocketknife. Flipping it open, he held it in one hand and reached for Mairead with the other, grasping her arm.
Mairead lost her head a bit. With a ragged gasp, she jerked her arm free and took a step backwards, stumbling into Tonks, who staggered and nearly fell.
"Bon sang!" Fleur threw up her arms and rolled her eyes.
Charlie pinched his nose between his fingers for a moment. "Mairead, we need a drop of your blood," he said in a tone that indicated he would not tolerate much more nonsense from her.
"Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry," Mairead said, feet dancing uncertainly on the spot. "Sorry. I'm sorry."
"Stop bloody apologizing and pull yourself together, for the love of Christ!"
Charlie fixed Mairead with a furious glare and she flinched at his harshness, feeling tears smarting in her eyes.
Chin wobbling, Mairead forced herself to put one foot in front of the other and step back up to Charlie. She silently held out a trembling hand and shut her eyes tight as she felt him grasp her hand tightly. She bit down on both of her lips when she felt the blade pierce her skin.
"Don't let it drip on ze carpet," came Fleur's voice.
Mairead felt her arm being tugged by Charlie as he pulled her towards the portrait. She opened her eyes and looked straight into the freezing cold gaze of a younger Lucius Malfoy, who had been watching the scene with cold indifference. To Mairead's surprise, Lucius inclined his head to her.
"Mrs. O'Keefe," he said politely. "How lovely to see you again."
Like a snake striking, an image flashed before Mairead's eyes. It was dark, and her mother was grasping her small hand tightly in her own graceful, slender hand. Mairead did not want to go inside the portrait, did not want to follow the boisterous, rowdy group of men with the cloaks and masks slung over their arms, and she was being tugged along gently but insistently by her mother. The boy at the forefront of the portrait bowed his head as mother and daughter approached.
"Mrs. O'Keefe," he greeted her. "Welcome."
Mairead was brought back to the present by the feeling of Charlie guiding her to press her bloodied finger against the address line on the letter Malfoy clutched in his hands. Mairead had never been the one to open the portrait before, and she hated the sight of her own blood smearing across the painting.
She and Charlie stepped back as the portrait swung forward as if on hinges, revealing a dark, stone staircase spiraling down out of sight.
Charlie nodded at Tonks. "We'll wait here," he said, striding over to take his place guarding the door to the office. Fleur stood off to the side next to the portrait, back straight and wand in hand.
Tonks looked over at Mairead. "After you," she said.
Mairead felt rooted to the spot. It was as if her body had rebelled against her mind, and refused to take a step further. It took Tonks giving her a hearty push to get her moving.
Mairead stumbled and reached out. Her hands found purchase on the cold stone walls of the spiral tunnel leading down into the subterranean office. Rallying all of her mental faculties, Mairead made herself start down the staircase, afraid with each step that her legs, which were visibly shaking, would collapse underneath her.
When she reached the bottom and her feet found solid floor, Mairead took a deep breath and looked up.
She couldn't suppress a quiet moan of dread at the sight of the office before her. The desk in here was less opulent, but clearly much more used. There were letters, quills, and bottles of ink scattered on the surface, as well as what appeared to be several sets of blueprints. While the decoy office had been lined wall-to-wall with paintings, here the objects mounted to the walls looked as though they had come directly from Borgin and Burkes. And unlike the sunny room above, most of the light for this windowless office came from the fireplace, which was lit despite the room's recent vacancy, and crackled merrily in a gruesome display of cheer in such a grim place.
Get in, get done, get out, Mairead told herself. The less you look, the better.
She stepped forward into the office, walking purposefully towards the desk as Tonks wandered around the room, taking it in. Pulling the listening device from her pocket, Mairead spent a few moments deciding where would be the best place to set it up. There was a small desk clock in the center of the desk, but Mairead leaned in and could hear it ticking loudly.
We won't be able to hear a damn thing except that, she thought.
She pulled her bloody finger, which was smarting, into her mouth and soothed the injury as she considered her options. There just wasn't anything else on the desk that looked permanent enough. She turned away to evaluate the rest of the office, but before she did, her eyes caught on the blueprints. A quick glance told her they were plans to the Ministry of Magic. Filing that away to tell Dumbledore, Mairead took a step back, sucking thoughtfully on her finger. As much as it pained her, Mairead forced herself to recall how Malfoy typically moved about the space. Much of his time was spent sitting either in his desk chair or in one of the seats by the fire. She pinched her lip and considered this. A central spot in between the desk and fireplace would be ideal.
Looking over, Mairead spotted an ornately decorated scimitar mounted to the wall. Hurrying over to it, Mairead examined it and saw that there was a perfectly sized gap between the blade and the hardware that was used to hold it in place. Balancing on her tiptoes, Mairead pulled out the listening device and meticulously hid it from view. When she took a step back, she could not see it even from a few feet away, but she was concerned that it would fall. Taking a page out of Walburga Black's book, Mairead pulled out her wand and cast a Sticking Charm on the bug, affixing it to the back of the blade.
Satisfied, Mairead stowed her wand away. Her fingers had found the power switch when she heard an exclamation from Tonks.
"Woah! What do you think this was used for?"
Mairead turned and saw Tonks standing overtop the large drain in the floor, looking down through the grating curiously.
"No, don't!" Mairead shouted.
Mairead ran for Tonks but tripped over her own feet and fell to the ground. When she looked up, Tonks was gone. In her place was a woman suspended upside-down above the drain. Her black hair fell in curtains around her, and she wept and begged the men surrounding her for mercy.
Lucius Malfoy stepped forward out of the line of men. "I'm afraid it is far too late for mercy," he said in his smooth voice. "You have, I would estimate, thirty minutes left to live," Mr. Malfoy continued. "You have until then to tell us where your brother is hiding. If you do, then we shall end both your life and his life quickly. If you do not, well..." he laughed lightly. "Let us just say that your brother's suffering will last considerably longer than half an hour."
"Cover your eyes."
Mairead looked over and saw her mother beside her, creamy skin even paler than usual.
"Cover your eyes, Mairead," she repeated. "Don't look."
Mairead did as she was told. Next thing she knew, her hands were being pried from her face. She struggled, but her father was so much stronger than she was.
"Watch and learn, Mairead," he said, pinning her arms to her sides with his elbows, leaving his hands free to hold her face still, forcing her to look over at the drain.
A man was bound there now, bleeding heavily and breathing raggedly. Mr. Malfoy had been questioning him until recently, but his questions had now turned taunting. Mairead could tell they were mostly for the entertainment of the men surrounding him, who chortled and jeered at the bound man.
Malfoy turned and raised his eyebrows expressively at one of the other men. The man, tall and strapping with shiny black hair, stepped forward, wand in hand. Mairead did not know what was about to happen, but she knew it would be horrible, and squeezed her eyes shut tight just in time, but with her arms held to her sides there was no way she could shut out the screams of agony that came from the man.
"Kenneth, please," came her mother's voice. "Please let me take Mairead home. There's no need for her to be here - you're frightening her!"
One of the hands holding Mairead briefly released her, and Mairead turned her head in time to see her father backhand her mother hard across the face.
"When I want yer opinion I'll ask fer it!" he snarled.
Mairead tried to cover her ear with her free hand as fresh screams of horror and agony pierced the air, but it was quickly forced back down by her side.
The tall man with the wand turned and looked over at the couch where Mairead's family was sitting. "What's the matter with your girl, Kenny?" asked Macnair. Mairead saw that blood was spattered on his face.
"Yes," Malfoy added, a cruel, amused smile on his face as he sipped at a glass of absinthe and calmly watched Macnair torture their prisoner. "You really must teach her some manners, Kenneth. It is impolite to shun the evening's entertainment."
"Not hearing much out of her," Macnair agreed. "Maybe she should come over here for a closer look?"
Though she knew it would only make things worse - would only increase the glee and mirth of the men filling the room - Mairead could not contain her piercing scream.
"NOOOO!"
"Mairead! Mairead! For fuck's sake - Mairead!"
Mairead lashed out blindly at the pair of hands that were grasping at her. Screaming filled the air. Terror was so thick in the room that she could taste it. All of her nerves were shrieking with alarm. The arms tried once again to grab hold of her, and Mairead flailed with all of her strength.
"NO! NO! GET AWAY!" She felt her elbow make contact with something and her assailant grunted and retreated.
"What in the name of Godric Gryffindor is going on down here?!"
Footsteps came thundering down the stone steps behind her. She was surrounded. Mairead curled up into a ball, covering the back of her neck and as much of her head as she could. She was next. Cruciatus practice was next and soon she would be dragged over to the drain herself. The screams were deafening. Her fear was unbearable.
A second pair of hands seized her and this time, she could not throw them off. She began to wail with terror.
"What the hell happened?"
"I have no idea! One minute she was fine and then -"
"We've got to shut her up - someone's going to hear."
"Muffliato."
The screaming abruptly stopped. Mairead tried to take a deep breath, but she could not hear the air going into her lungs. Surely she must be suffocating. She opened her mouth and gasped for air like a fish out of water, expecting to expire from lack of oxygen any moment.
But she didn't.
She could not hear herself breathing, but she could feel it. Her breath was coming just fine. In fact, her breath was coming much too fast. She was starting to feel dizzy and light-headed.
"What do we do?"
"We can't just walk out of here with her like this."
"Should we Disapparate?"
"Do you honestly think Malfoy wouldn't put an Anti-Disapparition Jinx on this room?"
"Maybe we can stun her. Say she fainted."
"She's not even supposed to be here. How do you expect us to explain that?"
"Well, then why don't you suggest something instead of just shooting down every damn thing I say?!"
Mairead's eyes snapped open. She was curled up in a ball on the floor. When she looked up, she saw Charlie and Tonks kneeling on the floor beside her. Tonks was trying to stem the flow of a bloody nose.
"Hey - I think she's coming out of it!" said Tonks, pointing with the hand that wasn't pinching her nose.
Charlie looked at Mairead. "Can you hear me?" he asked. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Mairead nodded.
"We've got to get out of here," Charlie continued. "Can you stand up?"
Without waiting for her answer, Charlie began hauling Mairead to her feet. Tonks stepped forward and helped. The three awkwardly staggered towards the stairway. Mairead's legs were too watery to hold herself up. Charlie and Tonks tried to divide the burden of her weight evenly. They started up the stairs, Charlie tugging at Mairead from above and Tonks shoving her from below, but before they reached the top they heard a fourth pair of feet making their way down the stairs.
"Eet is too late!" said Fleur breathlessly. "We 'ave drawn zair attention. Zey are on zair way back to ze 'ouse!"
"Hurry!" said Charlie in a low voice.
Mairead managed to get some strength back into her legs and was able to haul herself up the stairs, leaning heavily on Tonks for help. When they were back inside the office, Charlie and Fleur shoved the portrait shut and hastily stowed it back inside the closet.
"The windows!" Tonks exclaimed, pointing. "They open out onto a balcony! Let's see if we can Disapparate from there."
"Not many other options," Charlie said, rushing forward and trying the handle of the windows, which turned out to be French doors that did, indeed, let out onto a wide balcony.
"You all remember the emergency spot?" Charlie asked around as he pulled out his wand. "Go."
Fleur went first, disappearing with a dainty pop! Charlie and Tonks went next at the same time. Mairead closed her eyes, envisioning the abandoned textile mill that was their fallback location. She turned on the spot.
When she opened her eyes, she was no longer on the balcony. But she wasn't in the warehouse, either.
She had no idea where she was.
All she knew was that she was bleeding.
"Something's wrong. They should've been back by now."
Remus nodded, silently agreeing with Bill's assessment. He was pacing back and forth in the drawing room, grinding his teeth together and trying to stay calm.
"The tour was at three o'clock," he voiced his thoughts aloud. "It was supposed to last approximately two hours, putting us at five o'clock."
"It's nearly eight," said Sirius, glancing up at the clock on top of the mantelpiece Remus was pacing in front of.
Remus ran a hand over his face and through his hair. "What fallback location were they assigned, Bill?" he asked.
"It's an abandoned warehouse in Oldham."
Remus thought for a moment. "They've got Comets there?" he asked.
Bill shook his head. "Cleansweeps."
"All right," said Remus, nodding. "Oldham is about two hundred miles from here -"
"Cleansweeps can get up to about seventy with a decent tailwind," Sirius broke in. "So seventy, hundred forty, two hundred ten..."
"That's three hours," said Remus.
They shared a look.
"But if they stayed for the end of the tour, why would they have needed the fallback location?" said Bill. "They could've just Apparated from there."
Remus folded his arms. "And nothing's come through the receiver," he added, looking at Sirius.
"Right," said Sirius. He sighed. "Fuck."
Bill looked helplessly from Remus to Sirius. "What do we do?" he asked. "I didn't plan a contingency for a contingency."
Remus stopped his pacing and paused in front of Sirius. "We've got to get a search party tog-"
Remus paused when he heard a sound coming from the lower level.
"They're back," he said, starting out of the room. Bill charged past him. Sirius and Remus followed closely on his heels.
Bill silently but swiftly descended the staircase. When he reached the bottom he walked up to Fleur and embraced her tightly. After pressing an impassioned kiss to her lips, Bill looked up and met eyes with Charlie, wordlessly communicating volumes how worried he had been about his younger brother.
"What happened?" Remus asked in a hushed voice. As he descended the stairs and took in the three people standing in the doorway, he froze and Sirius nearly crashed into him.
Three people. Not four.
"Where is Mairead?" Remus asked.
Tension quivered in the air like a plucked harp string. Charlie, Fleur, and Tonks exchanged a glance. Charlie sighed.
"We don't know."
Author's Note: Okay, so, I get that cliffhangers kind of suck. And also that most of you probably want to kill me right now. Would it make you feel any better if I told you that Mairead lives? Not really? Well, I promise I'll make it up to you in the next chapter!
No song for this chapter, but here are some translations of Fleur's frustration, just for fun. I don't speak French, so if someone here does speak French and would like to correct my translations, please sound off in the comments!
Putain de merde: For fuck's sake
Bon sang: For Christ's sake/bloody hell