Author's Note: Thank you to GraceMonroe for your review! There is not very much Remus in this chapter, I'm afraid, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! If it makes you feel any better, this is another long-ish chapter.
Chapter Nineteen: Lost and Found
Mairead thought she deserved an Order of Merlin for how well she got through the following morning. She rose early to make sure Remus got his final dose of Wolfsbane Potion before he set off in search of the band of werewolves. There was a cautious look in Remus's eyes when he saw Mairead approaching, and he carefully avoided touching her as he accepted the goblet, thanked her for it, and downed it as quickly and as stoically as he could.
He left shortly afterward. Mairead told herself over and over that he would be perfectly safe, that he was a highly intelligent, competent man more than capable of handling himself, that he would only be gone for two days.
She told herself this, but she wasn't sure if she did so out of loyalty to Remus, or because she so desperately needed it to be true.
She moved through her day in a state of intense emotional fragility. Being away from Remus under such perilous circumstances threw into sharp relief all of the anguish and torment she had been fighting down for days, weeks, and months. She had a late morning shift at the Diagon Alley library, and found that every little thing set her off. A lapsit storytime for babies had her sniffling and rubbing at her eyes, thinking of how, at the cemetery, Mrs. Diggory had called Cedric her one, perfect miracle. When a patron came to her and complained that another patron was playing music at one of the tables, the melody coming out of the portable wizarding wireless made Mairead's breath hitch as she made her way over to tell the person to stop. The cover of one of the picturebooks Mairead was asked to shelve later on in the morning had her whimpering quietly in the stacks. She was in such a bad way that, when she was packing up to leave at the end of her shift and the zipper on her cardigan broke, she actually had to stop and bury her face in her hands, as if this were the crisis of a lifetime.
"Merlin's beard, you are in rough shape."
Mairead's hands fell away, and as she looked up into the face of the man who had spoken - whom she had not seen since the day they had disembarked from the Hogwarts Express for the last time - she lost the all-day battle with her willpower and dissolved into a fit of crying.
Ansel immediately stepped forward and enveloped her in a tight hug. Mairead hid her face in his robes and tried to pull herself together. She was in her workplace, after all.
When she managed to quiet her tears down to pathetic little snivels, she pulled away, wiping her face with the sleeves of her cardigan. Ansel looked down at her.
"So, had a good summer?" he asked conversationally.
Mairead started to laugh, which quickly turned back into tears. Ansel clicked his tongue disapprovingly.
"Right, get your stuff," he said briskly. "You're coming with me."
"W-where?" asked Mairead.
"To St. Hedwig's, of course," Ansel replied.
Five minutes later they were strolling side-by-side up the streets of Diagon Alley, headed for the familiar, impossibly-proportioned St. Hedwig's Home for Muggleborns, Squibs, and Orphaned Witches and Wizards. Mairead had not been here since Christmas, which Sister Mary Agnes had insisted on Mairead "coming home for."
Though Mairead was a fallen-away Catholic who often felt that the entire institution of organized religion was more than a little eye-rolly, she found herself blinking away tears as she walked up the worn but carefully tended steps and through the oak double doors into the front entrance of her old home. The familiar sights and scents greeted her, and for a moment it felt as though dozens of ghost stories were playing out before Mairead's eyes: Mairead as a nine-year-old, walking through the doors, tiny hand clasping Auror Moody's tightly; Mairead as an eleven-year-old, walking out the door with Ansel, heading to Platform nine and three-quarters for their very first trip to Hogwarts; Mairead as a thirteen-year-old, shrieking with laughter and whapping at Sophie with a pillow, their pillow battle having burst out of their dormitories and made it all the way to the entrance hall.
"We're here - I've got her!" Ansel called, closing the door behind him, his voice echoing in the hallway.
Mairead heard the quiet, sshk-sshk-sshk sounds of long, black robes and the quiet tread of simple wooden shoes on stone floors and then a quiet exclamation.
"Bless you, Ansel, there she is!"
Mairead let out a squeal that some may have found out of place in an orphanage, then hurtled across the entrance hall and threw her arms around Sister Mary Margaret, who gathered her into her arms and embraced her lovingly.
"My darling girl, welcome home," the nun cooed, holding her close.
Mairead breathed in the scent of castor soap, felt the scratchy fabric of the nun's habit brush against her face, and she felt herself releasing a breath that felt as though she had been holding it for months on end.
Mairead thought she could have hidden herself away from the world in Sister Mary Margaret's arms all day, but she had scarcely more than a few moments' peace before the sound of charging footsteps reached her ears and children were streaming into the entrance hall from all directions.
Mairead smiled and giggled helplessly while she gave hugs all around. The number of children at St. Hedwig's had dwindled considerably in the years since Mairead had been a young child, but Mairead still felt filled up with love when she gazed around happily at the dozen or so children who were too young yet to attend Hogwarts.
Her smile faltered. She wondered whether their ranks would soon swell once The Dark Lord regained his footing.
"Well, look what the Kneazle dragged in."
Mairead turned and shrieked. "EDGAR!" She hurled herself at the boy - no longer a boy, really, but who retained his boyish characteristics even in manhood - and the two laughed as they embraced.
Ansel took a step forward, smiling easily. "Hey, can the Kneazle get in on this?" he drawled.
Mairead and Edgar shared a laugh and opened their arms to include Ansel in their embrace.
The three friends broke apart at the sound of Sister Mary Agnes's voice.
"What in the world is all the commotion ab-" The older nun broke off and her cross expression melted into one of fond indulgence. "Well, the prodigal daughter returns. Welcome home, Mairead."
Mairead smiled shyly. "Thank you, Sister Mary Agnes," she said softly. She had always been more than a little intimidated by the abbess, with her no-nonsense attitude, short patience, and thin stature. When she had gotten to Hogwarts, Mairead had drawn an instant parallel between Sister Mary Agnes and Professor McGonagall.
"I expect the three of you have a lot of catching up to do," said the abbess. "Edgar: have you finished the Sunday school lessons?"
Edgar looked shiftily off to one side. "Er, just about," he said in an utterly unconvincing tone.
Sister Mary Agnes gave a short sigh. "Well, I don't suppose there will be any gathering of the little ones' attention at this point. You are dismissed for the afternoon."
Edgar's face split into a large grin. "Thank you, Sister Mary Agnes," he said respectfully. Then, eyeing Ansel and Mairead, "Fortescue's?"
Ansel and Mairead's faces broke into identical smiles.
Mairead walked between her two friends, arms linked with both of them as they walked back into the center of Diagon Alley, headed for the ice cream parlor.
Turning to look over at Ansel, she said, "Sorry if this is a weird question, but how are you here?"
Ansel chuckled. "Mini-break," he said. "First one since I've started and much needed. Working for the British Embassy is... rigorous work."
Mairead smiled sweetly at him. "I bet you're amazing at it," she said, squeezing his arm.
Ansel smiled affectionately at her and reached over with his free hand to muss her hair. "I'm more interested to learn what you have been up to," he said. "What kind of trouble have you been getting yourself into?"
Mairead guffawed. "What exactly makes you think I've been getting into trouble?"
Ansel and Edgar shared a look overtop of Mairead's head.
"What?" Mairead asked, looking back and forth between the two boys.
"Well," said Ansel, "to be honest, you're the reason I decided to come back here on holiday."
Mairead's footsteps slowed. "Why?" she asked.
Another glance between Edgar and Ansel. Whatever had been communicated, it appeared that Edgar had drawn the short straw.
"Because you're not doing well, May," he said delicately.
"What makes you say that?" she asked warily, slipping her arms free from theirs.
"Because no one's heard from you," said Edgar.
Mairead shifted her shoulders. "I-I've been busy," she said defensively.
Ansel arched an eyebrow. "You've been busy before and you've always managed to keep in touch," he said. "When I stopped hearing from you I assumed there was just a problem with the international post. But then I found out that Edgar hadn't heard from you, either, and he's been in London this whole time."
Edgar regarded her with sad brown eyes. "You always withdraw when you're in a bad place," he said sadly. "Whenever you most need people, that's when you... you crawl under the biggest rock or inside the biggest hole in a log you can find and you - you, you hibernate, or something. You just go off by yourself and hide."
Ansel seemed to sense that Mairead was feeling exposed. He turned his body to shield her from the other people walking along the street, protecting her from sight. "I know you lost Cedric," he said somberly. "And I know that nothing any of us does can ever make that right..." he leaned in closer when Mairead ducked her head, the first tears gathering in her eyes. "But you can't push your other friends away to protect yourself from further loss. That's not how it works."
A small yip escaped Mairead as she tried to suppress her tears. Edgar wrapped both arms around her from the side.
"We're still here," he said tenderly. "And we're not going anywhere."
"You can't promise that!" Mairead cried, burying her face in her hands.
Ansel stepped forward and let her lean against his chest.
"Of course not," he said patiently. "But as long as I'm still here, I'm not going to let you slip away from me. I'm going to be there for you, as much as I can be, for as much time as I'm granted."
"Only God knows how much time we've got, May," Edgar said, rubbing her back. "Our job is to make the most of our time here before we're called home."
"Right," agreed Ansel. "Edgar, for example, is using his time to be a pious, prissy little choirboy."
Not one to let an insult slide by, Edgar rejoined, "And Ansel is using his time to be a pompous arse who says things like 'guesstimate' and 'I'll pencil it in.'"
Mairead laughed thickly from between her fingers. Sniffling loudly, she wrapped her arms around both boys, hoping they could see how completely she loved them.
The two boys waited patiently while Mairead fixed her face. Then, they continued on down the street.
"So you've been at St. Hedwig's this whole summer, Edgar?" Mairead asked, turning to the black haired boy, who nodded.
"Yes, I've been leading Sunday School and I've also been teaching the younger children their primary lessons," Edgar replied. "I thought about the seminary, but I doubt the whole homosexuality thing would go over well with the Catholic Church."
Ansel smirked. "Nor would the whole celibacy thing go over well with you," he added dryly.
Mairead's mouth fell open. "Are you seeing someone?" she gasped.
Edgar's mouth twisted, fighting not to smile. "Just casually," he said primly.
Mairead and Ansel proceeded to tease Edgar relentlessly while they stood in line at Florean Fortescue's. After they ordered and had found a seat, Mairead pressed Edgar for details, such as his paramour's name (Julius), occupation (late-night host for a wizarding wireless station and aspiring actor), and looks (hot).
"What about you, May?" Ansel asked, twisting his arm and licking a stray drip of mint ice cream off his wrist. "Are you seeing anybody?"
Mairead choked on a chocolate chunk.
"Hey, is Sophie still seeing that guy?" she asked when she had recovered. "Erik Whatshisname? They were going to move in together, last I heard."
"Yeah, they moved in together," Edgar confirmed, breaking off a piece of his waffle cone and scooping up a glob of Hogwarts Honeycomb Hullabaloo - his longstanding favorite flavor - with it. "They're living in Chelsea, last I heard."
Mairead raised her eyebrows. "Nice part of London," she remarked. "Does Erik have money?"
"Oh, yes," said Ansel. "His family are old, old wizarding blood."
Mairead hummed. "Did they wind up getting a dog?" she asked, smiling slyly at the thought of Sophie picking up dog leavings with a wrinkled nose.
Edgar opened his mouth to reply, then paused. "D'you know, I don't know," he said thoughtfully. "Come to think of it, I haven't actually heard from her in a while." He nodded over at Ansel. "Have you?"
Ansel's mouth pulled down at the corners and he shook his head. "No, me neither."
Mairead arched an eyebrow. "So is she your next intervention?" she asked dryly.
Ansel smiled crookedly at her and mussed her hair again. "Nice try," he said. "Sophie never keeps in touch."
"Plus when something's wrong with Sophie she squalls loudly enough to wake the founders of Hogwarts," Edgar added.
Mairead giggled and did her best imitation of an irate Sophie. "Merlin's fucking tits, what the fucking hell is wrong with people?!"
Edgar laughed. "Did you all drink Draught of the Living Stupid for breakfast this morning?!"
The three friends laughed and ate and caught up for the rest of the afternoon. Edgar and Ansel both invited Mairead to spend the night at St. Hedwig's, but Mairead declined. She did not share her reasons, but secretly she wanted to be at headquarters in case news came through about Remus. Nevertheless, she agreed to stay for dinner and enjoyed a long evening in the warm comfort of the only place that had ever felt like home. She was surprised to find that she remembered the prayers they recited before dining, and she didn't even mind the way conversation constantly turned towards God. Instead of finding it aggravating, she took pleasure in the familiarity.
When she eventually left, Ansel and Edgar walked her out. Mairead gave them both long, tight, lingering hugs, and promised to keep in touch.
Mairead looked up at the sky, walking back down Diagon Alley alone. The full moon was just beginning to rise. In spite of herself, Mairead squeezed her eyes shut and sent up a silent, fervent prayer for Remus's safety.
Just in case.
Mairead took to heart Ansel and Edgar's admonishment that she needed to be better about staying in touch. Reflecting on it the next morning at the Muggle library, she realized that she had not only fallen out of touch with them, but she had also stopped responding to Angelina Johnson, a girl she had become friendly with at Hogwarts in her last year, as well as Professor Burbage. She resolved to start immediately by penning a letter to her penpal Gus, whose last two letters had gone unanswered. Gus was a Muggleborn and she knew he wouldn't be perturbed by receiving a letter on lined notebook paper and written with a pen rather than a quill.
Unfortunately, work at the circulation desk was not quiet enough to allow uninterrupted time for personal correspondences, and so Mairead was just putting the finishing touches on her long letter back in the library at Grimmauld Place that evening when a knock on the doorframe startled her.
"Hey, Gryffindor," Sirius said. "You're wanted in the drawing room."
"Is it Remus?" Mairead asked, rising so quickly her feet caught on the rungs of her chair and she crashed to the floor.
"Nah, he'll probably be getting in later tonight," said Sirius, stepping over and helping her to her feet. "Nice to see you're taking an insouciant attitude towards his absence, though."
Mairead's mouth twitched, but she otherwise ignored Sirius's comment. She followed him to the drawing room, and he held the door open for her. She stepped in to find that she was one of more than half a dozen other Order members.
Moody was standing near the fireplace and everyone seemed to be gathered around him.
"Oh, good," he growled at the sight of her. "Come on in, Mairead, and take a seat if you can find one."
The only seat would have placed her next to Bill and Fleur, so Mairead chose to stand off to the side, arms folded protectively around herself.
This couldn't possibly be about Remus, she told herself bracingly. Otherwise the whole Order would be here.
Moody waited until Sirius joined him at the fireplace, then folded his arms behind his back and began.
"Right. Sirius and I asked you all here because you are the newest members of the Order," Moody said, both eyes scanning the crowd. "Dumbledore reckons we should've done this sooner, and I agree, but what are you gonna do? We're going to go over a few basics with you and bring you up to speed. Sirius, you want to begin?"
Sirius nodded. "Rule number one," he said. "The Order is a secret organization. You've all been sworn to secrecy. You are not to disclose any information you learn through your affiliation with the Order under any circumstances, to anyone, for any reason. Rule number two -"
"Rule number one point five," Moody broke in. "Never discuss Order business or intelligence gleaned through the Order outside of headquarters unless you are absolutely certain you are alone."
Sirius hummed and nodded in agreement. "Good one, Mad-Eye. Rule number two: all Order missions are voluntary."
Mairead swallowed thickly as she saw Sirius's eyes flicker over towards Bill as he spoke.
"Chances are, some very dirty work is going to be involved in Order missions. Being in the Order takes dedication, it takes sacrifice, and it oftentimes takes putting the Order before your own interests. I'm not going to stand here and pretend that you're not putting your life and the lives of your family at risk by being in the Order. It's a huge risk to take, and that is why no one gets to make that choice but you. If you're not comfortable doing something, speak up. If someone says they're not comfortable doing something, back off."
"Being in the Order isn't glamorous," Moody added. "There's no glory to be had here, and it oftentimes isn't pretty. But I think you all know that the alternative is far worse."
"You've got to put your faith in Dumbledore," said Sirius. "A lot of times he might ask you to do something that you really don't want to do. Or he might ask you not to do something you really do wanna do. You just - it sucks sometimes, but he's got his reasons."
Mairead raised her eyebrows at this. Tonks must have been thinking the same thing she was, because she piped up in a teasing tone, "Even if he asks you to stay at Grimmauld Place for months on end?"
There was a quiet tittering of laughter. Even Sirius grinned doggishly at Tonks's joke.
"Well, no," he rejoined easily. "But only 'cause that's horseshit."
A short burst of laughter eased the tension in the room. Sirius and Moody went on, trading back and forth as they went over the basic principles of the Order of the Phoenix. After they had finished with the groundrules, they moved on to handling sensitive information. Mairead was secretly pleased to learn that Remus had already taught her some of what they went over.
"If you're talking to an Order member at headquarters, chances are good they really are who they say they are," Moody was saying. "This place is under the Fidelius Charm, and only members of the Order - and Harry, Hermione, and Arthur and Molly's kids - know about it. So if someone's here and headquarters hasn't been compromised, you can trust their appearance. Outside of Grimmauld Place, however, you've got to maintain constant vigilance. That means verifying the identity of the person you're talking to, especially before divulging sensitive information."
Sirius went over how to pick out a security question, and then Moody talked about what to do should anyone find themselves in a situation in which they suspected the person they were speaking with might be an imposter.
Sirius twisted around and looked at the clock on the mantel. "All right, last thing we're going to do tonight is go over how to send messages to other members of the Order."
"We'd like to meet with you every evening this week from six to seven," Moody added. "We'll be covering new ground every night until you're brought up to speed."
Sirius nodded in agreement. "Now, this bit's practical, so I'd like you all to watch and then practice on your own during the week." He pulled out his wand and continued. "This is a method of sending communications across long distances without relying on either owl post or the Floo network," he said. "Dumbledore invented this method himself, actually. Expecto Patronum!"
An enormous silvery dog burst out of the end of Sirius's wand. It took one turn around the room, leaping around excitedly and bounding over furniture, before landing silently at Sirius's feet, sitting on its haunches, and looking at him expectantly.
Sirius regarded his Patronus. "Deliver the following message to Mairead O'Keefe: your shoe is untied and you've got ink on your forehead."
He nodded at the Patronus, who loped over to Mairead and sat down once again. Mairead watched the Patronus open its mouth and say, in Sirius's voice, "Your shoe is untied and you've got ink on your forehead."
Mairead glanced down. Her left shoe was, in fact, undone. She went to smile at the silvery dog, but it had already dissolved, its message delivered.
There was a general clamoring of excitement as everyone watched Sirius's Patronus deliver his message.
"Patronus messaging has several big advantages," Moody said, counting them off on his fingers as he went. "One: a Patronus is impossible to forge, counterfeit, or fake. So if you get a Patronus message from me, you know I'm the one who sent it. Two: a Patronus can't be interfered with or waylaid, unlike owls. Three: it's free and you don't need to carry anything special with you to do it. Four: it isn't regulated like the Floo Network and therefore can't be monitored. And five: it's almost instant delivery."
"If you're able, I'd like you all to practice your Patronuses between tonight and tomorrow when we meet again," Sirius said. "Get them up to snuff and then we can practice the messaging bit together."
He shared a look with Moody, who nodded.
"Okay, er, class dismissed, I guess," said Sirius with a shrug.
He sidled his way up to Mairead as the other Order members rose to their feet and stretched, chatting amongst themselves.
"I can see why Moony gets off on the teaching stuff," he said with a grin. "It's a real power trip: 'class dismissed.'"
Mairead smiled and rolled her eyes at him. "That's not why he likes teaching," she said. "He likes helping people. And lifting them up. And, and educating them."
"I think my blood sugar just went up," Sirius said sarcastically.
"When is he going to get back, by the way?" Mairead asked in a would-be casual voice.
"I don't actually know," said Sirius. Then, looking over at where Moody was standing talking to Tonks and Kingsley, he called, "Oi! Kingsley!"
Kingsley made his way over to Sirius and Mairead. "Good lesson, Sirius," he remarked.
"Thanks," said Sirius. "When's Remus getting back?"
Kingsley folded his arms in front of him. "He should be back around eight o'clock tonight," he replied.
Sirius nodded. "Any word from him how it went?"
Kingsley shook his head. "No, Remus requested that we only communicate the essentials. He thinks it is best for him to appear alone. He felt that the others would not take kindly to a werewolf who looked like he was on a wizard's strings."
"Makes sense," Sirius remarked. "You staying for dinner?"
Sirius persuaded Kingsley, Moody, and Tonks to stay for dinner. Since she had begun staying at Grimmauld Place, Mairead had discovered that Sirius was an... adventurous cook. His methods and style appeared to be derived from imagination and a love for experimentation, rather than any actual knowledge or skills. As a result, many of the meals he produced, while interesting, were not exactly gourmet fare. Regardless, Mairead was immensely grateful to Sirius for the free room and board, and wasn't about to complain about unusual flavor combinations or overcooked chicken.
Mairead sat quietly while the others talked during dinner. She liked Kingsley, Moody, and Tonks very much, but she still felt too shy to carry on a lively conversation the way she would have done had it just been herself and Sirius.
Besides, Mairead could barely follow the thread of the conversation anyway, distracted as she was by constantly watching the clock. When eight o'clock arrived, she gazed intently at the door as if thinking that Remus had been waiting behind it for the clock to strike eight.
The door did not open.
Mairead gave herself a little shake. It's ridiculous to expect him to walk in right at eight, she told herself. It doesn't mean anything.
At eight thirty, she told herself that Remus was always late for everything. It was his singular flaw.
At nine o'clock Sirius looked at his watch and frowned. "Sure he said eight, Kingsley?" he asked.
Kingsley nodded. "I'm sure."
At nine thirty Moody said that Remus was probably retracing his steps, covering his tracks, and otherwise making sure he had not been followed.
"Which reminds me: we should go over some of that this week," he remarked.
"Sure, sure," said Sirius, looking distracted.
At ten o'clock Tonks got up to leave, citing work in the morning. "Will you send me one of those Patronus thingies when he gets in, Mad-Eye?" she asked.
"Yep."
At ten thirty Sirius began pacing.
At eleven o'clock Mairead rose and cleaned the dishes by hand for want of something to do.
At eleven thirty Kingsley suggested they all get some sleep. No one budged.
At midnight Moody rose and brewed them all strong cups of coffee.
They waited all night.
Remus never came.
Mairead could not focus on anything the next day. She stumbled through her day in a daze, her only thoughts of Remus, where he could be, and what state he might be in. That evening, Sirius and Moody continued teaching the new members of the Order what they needed to know. Mairead was unable to participate, however, as she was incapable of casting a Patronus.
She would have felt horrible about this, but Sirius reminded her that Arabella Figg was a full Squib and "always manages to get her message across."
"When Remus gets back he'll help you come up with an alternative," Sirius counseled her confidently. "Give you an excuse to put your heads together," he added in a low voice.
See? Sirius isn't worried at all about Remus, Mairead told herself. This kind of stuff obviously happens all the time. There's no need to be worried. He'll be back tonight or early tomorrow.
But Remus did not return that night, or the next day. Mairead anxiously scanned the headlines of The Daily Prophet at the Diagon Alley library, but there was nothing in there about werewolves, mysterious attacks, or the body of an anonymous man turning up in the middle of a forest.
When that last thought occurred to Mairead, she had to sit down and put her head between her knees.
She was immeasurably grateful for the daily distraction of Moody's and Sirius's lessons. Not only was she learning a great deal, but she felt that she regained some footing in the eyes of Bill, Charlie, Fleur, and Tonks when Sirius and Moody announced one evening that they would be practicing dueling.
Mrs. Weasley suggested that Mairead be exempt from dueling, as she had been exempt from the Patronus lesson the previous evening, but Moody overruled her.
"Remus told me she knows how to duel," he said. "Come on up here, Mairead, and show me what you can do."
Mairead gulped and clutched her wand in her already-sweaty fingers. She stepped forward and faced Moody, wide-eyed with nerves. She had only beaten Remus once in a duel, and she knew now that it had been when he had been only one day gone from the full moon. There was simply no way she could imagine beating a fully qualified Auror with decades of experience fighting Dark wizards.
"Show me your stance," Moody directed.
Mairead shuffled her body to one side. She turned her front foot forward and the other at an angle. Rolling her shoulders up and back, she felt her shoulder blades slot into place as she tightened her stomach muscles and looked down the length of her arm at Moody.
"Really nice," Moody praised her. "Now, try sending something at me."
Mairead flicked her wand, but instead of feeling it cast a spell she felt it tumble from her fingers and drop to the floor. "Shit," she muttered, face burning as she stooped to retrieve it. She hadn't realized how quickly she had gotten rusty. She had been a regular of a Dueling Club in London, trying to keep up with her Defense Against the Dark Arts studies. She had gotten surprisingly good during the year she had studied there. She had stopped going when she had learned of You-Know-Who's return, though, not wishing to draw attention to herself or her affliction. She had hoped that her skills would have been a bit more lasting.
"It's all right," Moody said. "Try again."
Mairead flicked her wand silently. Moody deflected the spell so quickly and easily she didn't even see him move his wand from its place at his side. His lips turned down at the corners.
"Interesting choice," he mused. "Now try to block."
Mairead yelped and clutched a hand to her mouth, feeling the Stinging Hex hit her. Her eyes were watering, partially from the pain and partially from humiliation. She couldn't bring herself to look at the crowd of onlookers. How was she supposed to concentrate when they were all watching her, anyway? She and Professor Lupin had always been alone.
"Erm, Auror Moody?" she asked in a tiny voice. "Is - is there any chance... erm... could I maybe try this without, like, an audience?"
Moody looked at her dispassionately. "That what you plan to ask a Death Eater?" he asked dryly.
Mairead looked at her toes. "No, sir," she whispered.
"Bet your arse, no," Moody replied. "Try again."
Closing her eyes for a moment, Mairead took a long, deep breath. She recalled what it felt like to walk into a dueling ring completely calm and collected. She loosened her fingers around her wand and held it lightly, remembering the trust and bond she had built with it. She had absolutely no idea what came over her, but when she opened her eyes, she felt suffused with calm and confidence.
Moody gave her no warning that he was about to begin, but Mairead's eyes widened to take in the whole scene, and this time, she saw the miniscule twitch of his fingers.
She blocked his spell easily. Flicking her own wand, she felt her hair whoosh around her while she counter-attacked.
Moody blocked and stepped towards her, raising his wand for the first time. Mairead parried his attack and sent her own in one movement.
She could vaguely hear murmurs and remarks as she and Moody dueled. She exhaled and tuned the voices out. Focusing her entire mind on the battle in front of her, Mairead was able to see in Moody's eyes what he planned to do. His regular eye stayed trained on her, but she noticed that his magical eye roved around her body and just before each of his attacks, it fixated on where he planned to aim his wand. She found she could tell from this which angle he planned to come at her from, and when she blocked and dodged his spells, she simultaneously observed and cataloged his fighting style.
There were several close shaves, and Mairead stumbled when her foot caught on the edge of a throw rug she had backed into, but when Moody finally caught her off-guard with a rapid volley of four spells all on top of one another, Mairead crashed to the floor satisfied that she had held her own - against an Auror! - for far longer than she had expected herself to.
She blinked and shook her head to clear it of her intense bout of concentration. She became aware that people were clapping and commending her. Bill stepped forward and grabbed her by the arms, helping her to her feet.
"That was DAMN impressive!" he enthused, smiling widely.
Mairead blinked up at him, shocked to find that he seemed completely earnest.
"That was way longer than I lasted the first time I went up against Mad-Eye," remarked Tonks, both eyebrows raised. "And getting into fights was, like, the one thing I was ever good at in school."
A laugh went around the room, and Mairead found herself joining in, out of breath though she was.
"All right," Moody raised his voice above the din. "Can anybody tell me what Mairead did wrong?"
No one seemed eager to speak out against Mairead, so she decided to do it herself.
"I lost track of my surroundings," she said. "I got confused where in the room I was and I let it distract me from the duel."
"Exactly," Moody said. "You can be the best damn dueler in the entire world and you can still duel yourself right over a cliff if you're not paying attention to your environment. Now: what did she do right?"
"Made you sweat," Tonks said, grinning cheekily.
Moody waved a hand impatiently at her. "I'm serious. This kid did something very, very right. Can anybody tell me what it was?"
"Her stance was good?" Charlie offered hesitantly.
"Her stance was so-so," Moody said. "She started out strong and then got sloppy as she went along. That's another thing you can work on," he added as an aside to Mairead, who nodded, grateful for the feedback.
"She kept her movements small," Arthur observed.
"That's true, but they got bigger towards the end as she got winded. You also have a tendency to wind up before you send something big," Moody added to Mairead, demonstrating with his own wand arm. "A common beginner's mistake, but you lose valuable seconds that way. What else?"
There was a silence. No one, including Mairead herself, seemed to know what Moody was looking for.
Eventually Moody looked over at Sirius. "Did you see it?" he asked.
"She was reading you," Sirius supplied.
Moody pointed at Sirius. "This girl may not look like much," he said, "but she knows that the number one thing you've got to remember during a duel is to observe your opponent. Now, those of you who go up against me last will have more of a chance to watch me. If you're smart, you'll notice how I duel. If you're skilled, you'll be able to pre-formulate a defense against it." He stumped over to Mairead and clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Mairead didn't have that advantage. She went first, but she still made the most of it. She thought on her feet. She didn't just go, 'oh, that spell failed' and jump to the next thing; she paid attention to why it failed and she adjusted as she went. She learned on the go." He turned and regarded Mairead. "Very, very impressive. You may be at a disadvantage, girl, but you're one hell of a dueler. You did Lupin proud."
Mairead's heart twisted painfully at the mention of Remus. "Thank you, sir," she said softly.
Moody released her and she joined the crowd of other Order members. To her shock and delight, Charlie and Bill both gave her huge smiles and the thumbs up as she moved through the throng to the back of the group.
To her even greater shock, she found herself smiling back.
Remus did not return on Thursday.
For the first time, Mairead was grateful that she worked in a library and not as a Healer. She was certain that, if she worked in a hospital, she would have killed somebody or lopped off a limb by accident, so distracted was she. As it was, she felt lucky to finish out her shift at the Muggle library and still have a job. At one point, she answered the phone, spoke briefly with a patron who had a question about whether a certain title was checked in, said that she would go look on the shelf for the book, and when the patron thanked her, she said, "You're welcome," and hung up on the patron. She got mixed up at the circulation desk and shelved an entire stack of books that had not been checked in yet. She led a child who had asked for books on dragons on a long, fruitless search through the nonfiction section before remembering that Muggles believed that dragons were fictional. Worst of all, when the first patron called back, confused as to why Mairead had hung up on her, Mairead answered the phone by saying, "Diagon Alley Library, how can I help you?"
As soon as her shift finished, she raced back to Grimmauld Place, only to learn that Remus was still not back.
Mairead sat next to Tonks, Charlie, and Hestia on one of the couches in the drawing room, methodically biting her nails down to the quick and bouncing one leg up and down at a frantic intensity. She was vaguely aware that Tonks kept shooting her concerned looks, but was too fried to do anything about it.
"Okay," said Moody when everyone had arrived. "Not a fun topic we're going to cover tonight, but an important one: what to do in the event that you are captured."
"Do we seriously have to talk about this tonight, Mad-Eye?" Tonks burst out. "I mean, can't we wait until..." she shot another glance over at Mairead, who had finished biting her nails and was now gnawing at the tough skin surrounding her nail beds. "Until, y'know, everyone is present and accounted for?"
"If Lupin's been caught and was taken alive you can bet your arse he's using the techniques you're about to learn," Moody said evenly. "It's imperative you learn protocols and procedures now, so if one day you're the one tied to a chair being tortured you'll know what to do."
Mairead's hand dropped from her mouth. She stared at Moody in slackjawed horror. She didn't know which was worse - the casual way with which Moody had alluded to the possibility that, right at this very moment, Remus might be in unbearable agony, or the possibility that Remus was not taken alive.
"Regardless," Sirius broke in, clearly trying to rein in the emotions of the evening, "Remus would want what all of us want: for you lot to have the knowledge and skills going in that we had to pick up the hard way last time."
Tonks shifted uneasily beside Mairead. To Mairead's surprise, Tonks also leaned closer to Mairead and pressed her shoulder up against Mairead's. Mairead was touched by this subtle offering of comfort and solidarity.
"Right, let's get started," Moody growled. "I know you all know the Unforgivable Curses already, but here's the thing you may not know about the Cruciatus Curse: it can vary in severity. Weaker wizards result in weaker pain. Now I'm not talking about a bee sting - it'll still hurt like hell. But the stronger the wizard, and the more adept at torture he is, the worse the pain will be. Now, show of hands: how many of you have ever been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse?"
Sirius and Moody raised their own hands, followed immediately by Kingsley, Tonks, and - drawing a gasp of horror from his mother - Bill.
"Bill?" Mrs. Weasley said, looking aghast. "What happened?!"
Bill rolled his eyes and made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Bank robbery attempt in Egypt one time," he said. "I was just a bystander - there for a meeting."
Mrs. Weasley put a hand over her mouth and regarded Bill with what looked like a combination of fury and horror.
"It really wasn't a big deal, Mum," he muttered. "It was a long time ago, and the guy got caught."
Mrs. Weasley tutted but must have thought better of making a big fuss over this news now. Moody fixed both eyes on Mairead.
"We're missing a hand," he said pointedly.
Reluctantly, Mairead raised her hand a fraction of an inch off her lap. She heard Mrs. Weasley click her tongue again but did not look around. Moody nodded, satisfied.
"All right," he said. "Here's what you need to know. If you get caught, you're going to be tortured. It's as simple as that. Voldemort loves pain. He loves causing it, loves witnessing it, and he surrounds himself with kindred spirits in that regard. There's no two ways about it: if you get caught, you're going to be tortured. If you're lucky, you'll die quickly. If you're not, you'll wind up in St. Mungo's with Fred and Alice Longbottom."
Mairead shuddered and closed her eyes briefly, both at the mention of You-Know-Who's name and at the memory of what had been done to the Longbottoms.
"Now, all week we've been going over how to avoid the worst case scenarios," said Moody. "You've learned how to pass messages in secret, how to verify who you're talking to, some basic counterintelligence, and you've started to brush up on your dueling skills. But the worst case scenario exists for a reason, and Dumbledore thinks you all ought to know what to do in the event you find yourselves living it.
"As you all know," Moody continued, "there's no blocking the Cruciatus Curse, and there's no countercurse. For those of you who haven't experienced it, you should know there is simply no way to anticipate or gear up for or shield yourself from the pain."
Mairead began taking long, slow breaths, feeling nausea creep up her body, recalling the sensation of being tortured.
"We're not trying to scare you," Sirius added. "But there really isn't any point sugarcoating what it's like. It's bad, and there's nothing you can do to prevent that. What you can do is have a plan for if it happens to you."
Moody nodded. "Everybody breaks under the Cruciatus Curse," he said. "Everybody. There's no shame in it and there's no betrayal to the Order. All we ask is this: give us three hours. If you can last three hours, that'll give the surviving members of the Order time to clear out, cover our tracks as best we can, and shore up our defenses. After three hours, you can sing like a bird."
Sirius looked around at the crowd of grim, tense faces in the room. "Now!" he said, clapping his hands in a startling display of upbeat energy. "Let's move onto a lighter topic: the Imperius Curse!"
A few people laughed weakly in a show of appreciation, but Mairead was not one of them. As Moody and Sirius went over techniques for resisting and, ideally, overthrowing the Imperius Curse, all she could think about was Remus.
Was he going to land in St. Mungo's with the Longbottoms? Was he bound and captive right now, counting down three hours in his head?
Or was he "lucky," as Moody called it, and already dead?
When Mairead awoke on Friday and found that Remus had not come back during the night, she called out sick to her job, too anxious to leave the house.
She quickly regretted her decision, though, as now she had nothing to do but pace around the house with Sirius, who had finally abandoned his bravado and was beside himself with worry, as well.
When Moody arrived that evening for training, Sirius pulled him aside and talked with him, a grim expression on his face. Mairead watched them, holding her breath.
After only a few moments, Moody's mouth tightened and he nodded his head.
Sirius conjured a Patronus, spoke to it, and then watched it seriously as it bounded off through solid wall.
Sirius talked with Moody for a few more moments before walking over to Mairead, a dark look on his face. "Remus has been gone for five days with no word," he explained to her, as if she were not already painfully aware of precisely how long Remus had been gone. "We've sent word to Dumbledore to see if -" He was cut off by a puff of smoke and a scarlet phoenix feather materializing in midair and floating gently to the floor.
"Training's cancelled, folks," Moody announced. "There's going to be an Order Meeting instead."
Everyone filed down to the basement, where other members of the Order had already begun to arrive.
Mairead's head felt as though it were full of cotton. She felt as though she glided over to the table, unaware of her feet moving, and sat down, fingertips tingling and everything else numb.
"I'm sure everything's fine," Mairead heard someone say.
She turned her head and saw that Tonks had sat down beside her and was offering her a tight smile. Internally, Mairead wondered how Tonks could maintain a hair color of shocking pink when a member of the Order was missing. Externally, she forced herself to smile and mumbled a thank you.
"Thank you all for joining me on such short notice," said Professor Dumbledore, looking around the table gravely. "I am afraid that I bring bad tidings this evening."
Mairead held her breath and stared up at the head of the table at the white-haired wizard. His eyes, normally sparkling with joy and mischief, were somber tonight.
"I have called you here tonight," he said, "because I am afraid I must declare that Remus Lupin is officially missing."
There was a long moment of ringing silence. Then, everyone seemed to start talking at once. Mairead resisted the urge to put her hands over her ears and shut out the loud noises of discord. She wanted to run and hide, to crawl under her bed or inside a closet and pull things over her head and take shelter from the world, shut out the reality that was crashing down around her.
Remus was missing. He was missing. This silence, this extended absence, was not part of the plan.
Mairead felt like screaming. For a few sickening moments she feared she might faint. Digging her stubby, jagged, bitten fingernails into her palms, she forced herself to concentrate. She owed Remus that much.
Kingsley, as Remus's contact, was being questioned by Dumbledore.
"Have you had any word at all from Remus, Kingsley?" the ancient wizard asked.
Kingsley shook his head. "I am afraid not," he said.
"What about that Patronus thing?" Tonks piped up, looking around at Sirius and Moody. "Could he have sent something like that?"
"Doubtful," Sirius said. "Remus almost didn't take his wand with him at all. Werewolves aren't known to take kindly to wizards. He's unlikely to start casting spells around them."
"Well, I would add that I have had no word either way from him," Kingsley said. "The signals he and I agreed on were all distress signals. There was nothing he and I had planned in the way of check-ins or routine notifications. So the fact that I haven't heard from him isn't necessarily bad."
"No, the fact that it's Friday and he was supposed to be back on goddamn Monday is what makes it bad," Sirius snapped, running a hand through his long, black hair.
Mairead had at first been relieved to learn that Sirius was also worried, because it had made her feel less alone and hysterical. Now, though, seeing her own concerns reflected in Sirius made them realer, somehow. Made them more substantial.
"Why did we wait this long?" asked Emmeline. "Why wasn't something done on Tuesday?"
"I agree that we waited too long to respond to this," Dumbledore said in a measured tone. "But Remus himself requested that he be left alone to work unless we heard otherwise. With that in mind, we do need to be careful in how we plan our response. There was a reason Remus wanted to take minimal resources with him, and why he and Kingsley planned only for essential communications. This group is extremely skittish and if we do not tread carefully the result could be worse for Remus than if we do not act at all."
"You can't possibly be suggesting that we just sit on our hands and continue to wait!" Sirius said hotly. "He could be anywhere! He could be in the hands of Death Eaters as we speak! He could be bleeding to death in a ditch!"
Normally, Mairead had to hold her tongue at Sirius's impetuous nature, but right now she agreed wholeheartedly. She could not understand why they were all just sitting around a table instead of going out searching for Remus.
"I am suggesting that we consider all possibilities and formulate the plan most likely to bring Remus back safely," Dumbledore said calmly.
"I will create a list of ways this could have gone wrong," Flitwick squeaked, smoothing a hand over a piece of parchment and loading up a quill with ink. "First, Death Eaters could have infiltrated the encampment. How likely do we feel this scenario is?"
"Well, we know that You-Know-Who wants to get the marginalized groups on his side," McGonagall said.
"Yeah, but would he do that right now?" Moody asked. "He's been concentrating pretty heavily on regrouping his followers and infiltrating the Ministry."
"Yes, but we must not forget that one of his followers is Fenrir Greyback," Dumbledore said seriously.
Mairead frowned. She thought she knew the names of nearly all of the Death Eaters, but this was not a name she had heard before.
"Who's Fenrir Greyback?" asked Bill.
"A werewolf who teamed up with Voldemort last time," answered Sirius. "Really sick bastard."
"Wouldn't we have heard something from Snape if You-Know-Who were planning to infiltrate the werewolves?" asked Doge.
"Not if Snape wanted something bad to happen to Remus," Sirius growled, his upper lip curling. "Where is he, anyway? Bit convenient he's not here, isn't it?"
"Severus was assigned to stay at Hogwarts this evening, Sirius," said Dumbledore with an air of weary patience. "And I do believe that Elphias has a point: I think it likely that we would have heard if Greyback had been planning an attack this month. There has been no such discussion coming through the receivers, has there, Mairead?"
"No, sir," Mairead said in a tiny voice.
"What else could have gone wrong?" prompted Flitwick, taking notes on the scroll of parchment.
There was a brief silence while everyone thought. "What if there was a mistake with the Wolfsbane Potion?" Emmeline spoke up. She nodded over at Mairead. "What would be the effects if she messed it up?"
"She didn't mess it up," Sirius said dismissively. "It worked fine last month."
"That was last month," argued Emmeline. "Didn't Snape say it was a particularly challenging potion to brew?"
"She didn't mess it up," Sirius repeated slowly and firmly.
Emmeline shrugged. "I'm just listing a possibility," she said casually. "What are the effects of a faulty Wolfsbane Potion? Does anyone know?"
"It's poison," Mairead whispered, feeling dread settle into her stomach. "A faulty Wolfsbane Potion poisons the person who drinks it."
Why hadn't she considered this? Why hadn't she included a poison antidote in one of the buttons of Remus's cloak?
"Severus examined the potion himself," Flitwick pointed out. "He said it was good."
"This isn't getting us anywhere," Sirius broke in impatiently. "Look - it doesn't matter what happened, something happened, and we're not going to divine what it was just sitting here. We've got to go in there."
There was a murmur of agreement around the table, and Sirius turned to Sturgis. "You're the one who helped Remus map the area, right?"
"Yes," answered Sturgis. "I still have the maps over in that bureau." He rose and retrieved a few scrolls from the bureau. "This was the last known location of the pack," he said, unfurling a large map of a forested area and tracing a path with his index finger. "Remus planned to come in from the East here. He said the transformation is extremely dehydrating, so werewolves are likely to make camp near a source of potable water. He was going to follow this river and try to intercept them."
"Did he say where along the river he felt they were most likely to make camp, Sturgis?" Dumbledore asked, peering down his nose and through his half-moon spectacles at the map.
"He had a few possible locations picked out," Sturgis answered. "Here, here, here, and here." He pointed to each spot, all of which appeared to be within a few miles of each other.
"Good enough," said Sirius, straightening up. "I'll head there straightaway. Try to track him down."
Several people protested loudly, but Sirius spoke over all of them.
"I don't want to hear it!" he barked. "He's my best friend. I know him better than any of you, and what's more I have advantages that none of the rest of you have. I can turn into a dog - that makes me mobile, easier to hide, and with a better sense of smell than any of you. Besides, I ran around in a forest with him for three years. I know how he thinks, how he operates, where he's likely to go if he's injured. Hell, I know what he smells like. If anyone can find him, I can."
"I don't know, Pads, I'm standing over here smelling right now and you haven't seemed to notice anything."
Mairead froze. The sound of Remus's voice shot down her spine and paralyzed her where she stood. She stopped breathing, too stunned to turn around. By the time she regained control of her muscles there had already been a great stampede all around her as everyone abandoned the table and rushed over to greet Remus.
Sirius reached him first. He pulled Remus into a crushing hug. There was much manly back-thumping as first Bill, then Moody, then Kingsley welcomed Remus back. Remus looked surprised and touched when Mrs. Weasley gave him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, and he and Dumbledore shared a warm, relieved smile as the older wizard shook his hand with both of his own.
Mairead saw all of this through a blurry haze of tears. She tried to make her way over to the throng, but her knees gave out and she collapsed into her seat. Folding her arms over the back of her chair, she buried her face in her forearms and felt her eyes burn as relief swept over her. She remained like that, taking deep, soothing breaths, until she heard the crowd shuffle back over to the table and take their seats once again.
Wiping her face hastily with both hands, Mairead saw that Professor Flitwick had shifted down a seat to give Remus the spot immediately on Dumbledore's left. Everyone was asking questions at once.
Mairead drank in the sight of him. He looked... surprisingly fine. His hair was windswept and looked as though it had not been washed, and his face was obscured behind a heavy layer of stubble. He was smiling readily and appeared to be at ease, but Mairead knew well enough that that could easily be a façade. He wasn't wearing the travelling cloak she had given him, and her eyes narrowed as she anxiously scanned what she could see of him for signs of injuries, but found nothing.
As she watched him, Remus's eyes darted over to her. He looked away just as quickly, but in the split second that their eyes had met, Mairead had felt as though she were burning up under the intensity of his gaze.
Dumbledore raised both hands and asked for silence. When everyone had quieted down, he said, "Are you ready to make your report, Remus?"
"I am, headmaster," Remus said, bowing his head respectfully. He folded his arms on top of the table and took a moment to gather his thoughts. "I arrived on Sunday as planned. I wanted to have the option of their not knowing I was carrying a wand, and so I Apparated to the outskirts of the river and then hiked to the riverbank on foot. I followed the river upstream and found the group at the second spot Sturgis and I had identified as being their likeliest choice of location. I observed their group dynamics for a while before deciding it was best to approach them before the moon rose. There was a level of aggression that was not unexpected, and I was concerned that once they had transformed they would become violent if a strange werewolf approached them unannounced."
He drummed his fingertips thoughtfully on the table before continuing. "I knew from previous reconnaissance that the leader was named Tyrone, and I approached him and said that I wished to prove that I was who I had claimed to be in our earlier communications. I asked permission to transform with the group. This caused... some discord. They were split about evenly in terms of who wanted me there and who didn't. Another man, Jackson, was... rather aggressively opposed to my presence. His partner, Evangeline, Tyrone, and Tyrone's partner, Brigid, tried to convince Jackson to allow me to stay - or at least to let me leave unassailed. I think the remaining members were split along the lines of whom they feared most - Tyrone, or Jackson. Tyrone eventually overpowered Jackson, and I was allowed to stay."
Remus took a deep breath as if steeling himself for the next part of his story. "Then the moon rose," he went on. "At first things seemed all right. I joined the others in a hunt. Tyrone had mentioned that, during the month, they mostly hunted rabbits, squirrels, and picked up whatever they were able to steal from surrounding villages. But during the full moon, they worked as a pack to bring down as many deer as they could manage. They would eat their fill during the night, and then the next morning the women would strip the carcasses of meat, preserve it using a primitive smokehouse they had built deep in the woods, and that would last them most of the month. Tyrone said that the group hunt solidified a sense of brotherhood among the werewolves, increased morale, reduced conflict..."
Remus trailed off, looking at Sturgis's map, where it was still spread out on the table. When he spoke again, there was a grim note to his voice. "As soon as we picked up the trail of the deer I could sense something was off. We fanned out and worked to surround the herd. We were to keep an eye on Tyrone, who would signal to us which deer he had selected for us to take down. But Jackson broke off with a group of four others. They disappeared into the trees, and just when Tyrone signaled for us to move in, they reappeared. As soon as the first blood was drawn on the deer, the werewolves, they... they went into a frenzy."
Something in Remus's expression had shifted. He looked ashamed, disgusted. It occurred to Mairead as she listened to his story that he was ashamed of his own association with them. Embarrassed to be relaying the uncivilized ways in which werewolves behave on the full moon. "All Jackson had to do at that point was move in on Tyrone. He and the other four who had gone off with him surrounded Tyrone, got close, and drew blood." His eyes flickered briefly over at Mairead again. "I was very grateful that the Wolfsbane Potion worked as well as it did, or I would've been drawn into the feeding frenzy as well. As it was, as soon as Tyrone began to bleed, it became effortless for Jackson to get the other werewolves to turn on him. I'm convinced they would have killed him had they been able to. Brigid and I fought alongside Tyrone, but he was badly wounded, and once he fell I managed to lead the others in a chase after me. I was able to climb up a tree with low-hanging branches. I jumped from the tree into the river and allowed myself to be carried downstream for a few miles. They could have found me if they had really wanted to, but I think the other werewolves were hungry, and so once Brigid had hidden Tyrone and tracking me had become too difficult, they returned to the wounded deer, leaving Jackson alone. I think he knew that he and I would be evenly matched, and I don't think he wanted to take the risk of dying right when he was perfectly poised to take over leadership of the pack."
Remus rubbed a hand over his opposite forearm, which had up until that point been obscured underneath his other arm. Mairead saw now that the sleeve of his shirt was bloodstained. She had missed it when she had scanned him before, but he had clearly sustained his own injuries during the fight. "I found where Brigid was hiding Tyrone. It was actually one of the other places I had theorized the group might camp. Brigid and I stood guard overnight. When we transformed back..." Something shuddered briefly across Remus's face. "He was in very rough shape." For the first time since beginning his tale, Remus's lips twisted into a small smile. "But fortunately for him, Mairead came to the rescue." He allowed himself to look over at her again, smiling at her look of confusion.
"Your cloak saved his life, Mairead," he told her. "I broke open the button in the cloak containing the powdered silver and Dittany and was able to seal the worst of the wounds that way. I had Brigid tear the cloak into strips in the meantime. We all but mummified him with that cloak, but we were able to prevent him from bleeding to death. Once the bleeding had stopped I opened the button containing the Blood Replenishing Potion and fed it to him. I saved the last button for the next day. The wounds were still fresh, and causing him a great deal of pain, so I broke the last button and spread the Essence of Dittany over his wounds. It relieved the pain enough that he was able to be moved, which was essential because Brigid felt certain that Jackson would soon be coming along to finish him off."
Remus looked over at Dumbledore now. "By this point it was very obvious to Brigid that I was a wizard. I doubt Tyrone was cognizant enough to have been able to understand what was happening at the time, but I knew that he would eventually piece together that I must have used some extraordinary measures to keep him alive. I figured there was no point playing coy, so I decided to lay all my cards on the table. I told Brigid that I was working with a group of people working to stop the second rise of Lord Voldemort. I told her I had reason to believe that Voldemort would send another werewolf to infiltrate her group, and that if they failed to ally themselves with Voldemort the group would be decimated. I told her that we could provide protection in exchange for their allegiance. I had seen enough of the group by then to know that what they most wished was to continue their existence without interference. I said that we would only interfere as much as they wished us to. I told her that we could provide them with more of the same potions and enchanted materials she had seen me use - Blood Replenishing Potion, Essence of Dittany, magical herbs and healing potions - I even said we could provide them with tools that would make hunting more efficient, such as fishing nets and tools so that they could grow their own vegetables."
He sighed heavily and shook his head. "Unfortunately, all of my promises were useless. Tyrone's place of leadership had been usurped, and so Brigid had fallen, as well. Now that Jackson had made an attempt on Tyrone's life, they would either have to overthrow the entire pack by themselves or break off and start anew on their own. They chose to flee. And they advised that I do the same. We parted ways a few hours ago, once Tyrone was well enough to move on his own. I was able to make my way back to the pack and observed them from a distance. It was clear that a second approach would only result in violence, and so I hiked back to my Apparation point and left."
A somber silence followed Remus's tale. After a few moments, Dumbledore quietly said, "Thank you very much for your efforts, Remus," he said. "Your actions were admirable and your courage in standing up to a dozen werewolves is remarkable."
Remus's mouth tightened. "I am sorry I was unsuccessful," he said regretfully.
Dumbledore frowned thoughtfully. "I would not go so far as to say you were unsuccessful," he said. "It sounds to me as though you may have earned two allies this week. Did you give Brigid and Tyrone any way to get in touch with you, should they have a change of heart?"
"I told them about the drop point in Hyde Park," Remus said, nodding. "I told them that if they would like to get in touch with me, all they would have to do is leave a note there with how I can reach them."
"Excellent," said Dumbledore with a small smile. "Well, you gave us all quite the fright, there is no doubt about that. But I know I speak for all of us when I thank you and welcome you back most warmly and fondly."
"Thank you," Remus said. "I'm sorry that I was not in communication. Things were touch and go for quite a while, and I sensed that Brigid's trust in me was tenuous at best. I feared that revealing a wand would frighten her off entirely."
"You made the right decision," Dumbledore said graciously. Then, looking up at the group, he said, "Well! I think we can call it a night there, do you all agree?"
"Anybody who wants to is welcome to stay for dinner," Sirius spoke up, eyes sparkling with their usual happiness at the prospect of not being alone. "I don't know about you lot, but I could use a drink or twelve."
Mrs. Weasley immediately stepped in and offered to cook. Remus excused himself to take a long-desired shower. And Mairead slipped away and up to her room, where she collapsed on the bed, crying in relief.
Author's Note: Phew! Are you relieved Remus made it back safely? I know he wasn't in this chapter much, but I promise I will make it up to you in the next one! Have a great week!