Chapter Thirty-Two
A Proposal.
As Maeve walked into the hospital wing she tried not to look at the prone figure of Draco Malfoy. It was a combination of intense loathing and some unwelcome sympathy that kept her eyes averted from the pathetic rise of his body beneath the starched sheets of his bed. Professor Dumbledore had informed her that Narcissa Malfoy was on her way to remove her son from the school and given the recent, preposterous events, Maeve wasn’t in the least surprised by this news. She still maintained that he should have been removed from the school once it became known that Lucius was a confirmed Death Eater, unfair though that may have been.
Events had moved quickly and in the space of a few hours it had become apparent that not only had Lucius escaped from Hogwarts, something that had stung Dumbledore badly, but also Voldemort and his dark assembly had packed up and left the tunnels at Rampton Court. The Order members who had arrived ready to do battle had found nothing but a few dead Muggles and the odd broken bottle. Maeve still couldn’t believe that Dumbledore had moved before they had tried the antidote. Had the Carduus Amara still been there the entire Order could have been wiped out. As Dumbledore informed her of this news he hadn’t needed to tell her who the source of the leak had been— it could only have been Roderick.
Madam Pomfrey led her to the small room at the end of the ward where Cornelius Fudge and Imelda Snodgrass were still sleeping deeply and Maeve set the small bowl of paste down on the low table by the side of Imelda’s bed as she surveyed their condition.
“They look no different,” she said.
“No, outwardly they are no different,” the medi-witch replied. “But inwardly we have no idea how they are. We are taking a rather huge risk in administering this potential cure.”
“It will work,” Maeve said confidently. “It has to, it’s our only option.”
Poppy Pomfrey gave her a sceptical look before approaching Imelda Snodgrass’ bed. Maeve watched as the she placed a hand over the woman’s forehead, pausing as if searching for something. She beckoned for Maeve to pass her the bowl of paste and she did so hurriedly, eager anticipation and quiet dread fighting for prominence in her mind. The older witch tipped back Imelda’s head gently, allowing her mouth to drop open, and with a swift movement she had transferred a small amount of the shimmering medicine to the sleeping witch’s tongue using a small spoon. Allowing the sleeping head to fall back she turned to Maeve and smiled.
“That’s all there is to it. We will have to wait and see.” Madam Pomfrey shooed Maeve out of the room and back into the main ward. “I will, of course, let you know if there is any change.”
Maeve felt enormously let down. After weeks of thinking about this it all seemed like such an anticlimax and worse still Severus wasn’t there to share the moment with her. They had explored so much of this problem together until things had gone so badly wrong.
“Are you all right, Professor O’Malley?” Madam Pomfrey asked as Maeve faltered in her step.
“Yes,” she replied quickly, aware that Madam Pomfrey knew the circumstances surrounding Severus’ injuries. She didn’t want to have the heavy load of Madam Pomfrey’s censure rain down on her head.
“He will recover fully, you know,” Madam Pomfrey said confidentially. “They were just surface wounds. Between you and me, I think it will have done him some good.”
“How can it have done him some good?” Maeve exclaimed and was immediately hushed as Madam Pomfrey glanced around the ward. A young boy moaned in his sleep and Draco grunted loudly but apart from that the long room was undisturbed by her outburst. “How can it have done him any good at all?” she repeated. “I was wicked to do what I did, completely wicked.” Maeve had been taken by surprise by the other witch’s unexpected understanding and it flustered her.
She gave the Madam Pomfrey one last angry look before storming from the ward in a haze of her own desperation. She was moving so quickly and with her head so bowed that she didn’t notice her surroundings. The corridors flashed by her in a blur of grey that was highlighted here and there by the flickering yellow of a torch burning. If students passed her she didn’t know it nor did she care. She was travelling at such furious speed that she didn’t even see the stationary wizard until she had collided with him… sending his case flying out of his hand and making him stagger backwards. With a muttered “sorry” she carried on, not even raising her head to see who it was she had so rudely bumped in to.
“Maeve?”
She stopped, not quite able to believe her ears. Just two days ago Dumbledore had told her this would be impossible and yet… she stopped and turned, her hopeless head raised only slightly.
“Remus!” Her scream echoed off the halls and carried all the way up the staircases and fireplaces as she pelted back towards the smiling man. “I can’t believe it. Dumbledore said you couldn’t be contacted… he said he couldn’t bring you back and here you are…how …oh how wonderful!”
And with that she collapsed into a ridiculous, sobbing heap on his shoulder, all the pent up anger and emotion of the previous two days venting itself into the worn fabric of his robes. He wrapped his arms around her and tried to stem the tide but it was impossible; at the very least he had to get her out of the corridor and somewhere private. The staff room was the nearest option and he half dragged her to the closed door, struggling to push it open with his foot while using his elbow to manipulate the brass handle.
Once inside the mercifully empty room he sat her down on one of the tatty sofas and allowed her to continue to cry herself out. With a flick of his wand he produced a teapot and cups, which arrived with a pleasant chink on the table before them, and allowed her the time to recover. She clutched at his robes as if letting go would mean letting go of her own sanity; finally being able to give in to her distress was such a relief that she didn’t want it to stop. She was content to breathe in the warm smell of his clothes and feel the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her head. But there was something else clinging to his robes, a smell that she had never come across before but she instinctively knew what it was. Maeve raised her head and looked into his calm eyes.
“Where have you been?” she asked. “I can smell something… something I don’t think I like.”
“Rampton Court,” he said, moving her gently sideways so that he could pour the tea. “Dumbledore was right when he said he couldn’t bring me back earlier but this was something so important he couldn’t not use me. He needed every available hand to the pumps and still we were too late.”
If Maeve was put out by the fact that Dumbledore didn’t think she was important enough to bring Remus back she kept quiet. Remus looked so dismayed at the fact that they had been unable to catch any of the Death Eaters. There had been such a high level of anticipation among the members of The Order of the Phoenix as they had set out for the Rampton Estate. There had been little time for talk, just a heavy sense of inevitability about the mission and its possible outcome. So much uncertainty combined with fear had made them all rather short-tempered with each other. On more than one occasion Tonks had almost hexed Mad-Eye and only Fred and George had kept the other’s spirits up. Remus wasn’t sure how they managed it given that the three older Weasleys hadn’t been present.
“Is that smell what I think it is?” Maeve asked, breaking into his thoughts about his friends.
“The after-effects of Carduus Amara. I wasn’t exposed to it but there is a smell to the stuff that cloys. It’s a most unpleasant substance.” He hadn’t anticipated the fresh outburst of sobbing that this information brought and he placed the cups back on the table, as he had to hold her shaking shoulders again.
“You left without saying goodbye and I missed you and you didn’t even send me an owl., I had no idea you had left and then I was afraid because you had gone and I knew that your feelings had…well something had changed and I was so frightened I had lost your friendship and then there has been so much unpleasantness what with Severus and Lucius and that damned Rampton man. And through it all I didn’t have you to talk to and you have become so much part of me it felt like half my heart had been cut out and I can’t bear it if you go away again…” Her babbling ended and the sobbing started afresh. Remus was beginning to feel the first real pangs of concern for her mental state. He had only ever seen her cry once before like this and that had been the night she witnessed his transformation but even then the crying had abated eventually. This bout was endless and her face was sodden with salty tears.
He produced a clean handkerchief from his pocket and began to mop at her face in an attempt to bring her back down to earth. His face was tight with worry and this, combined with the dabbing at her face, seemed to work a little because the heaving of her shoulders abated somewhat.
“I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye,” he said, not quite knowing what to say without triggering a fresh bout of weeping. “I was a little ashamed of my behaviour and the pressure I put upon you because of it. I was very foolish to believe you belonged with anyone other than Severus.” He watched with alarm as her bottom lip began to quiver again and he hastily changed the subject. “France is very nice though and the place I am based is so different to London that it’s quite refreshing. I will go back after this has died down.” Her bottom lip still waggled alarmingly and he gave up trying to placate her into calmness. “Why don’t you tell me all about it and get it out of your system?”
So she did. She started with the whole sorry mess concerning Kentigern Snape and what she had done to Severus in the forest, carried on through Roderick’s two-faced behaviour and Malachy Meany’s owl before ending with Lucius Malfoy’s seemingly easy escape.
“He had another wand with him,” Remus said. “Professor Dumbledore told me this morning that they had never even considered the possibility that he would have two wands. It’s almost unheard of. Lucius always was a sly old dog. Dumbledore’s taking it very, very hard and the Ministry are none too pleased, although after your cousin’s little getaway they really can’t say much.”
“I wondered how he got that window open so easily,” Maeve said, her crying finally retreating to a safe distance. “Draco would never have been able to manage it alone.”
The opportunity to talk about the events of the past few days seemed to have done the trick as only the occasional shudder disturbed her now. She accepted the tea gratefully and settled back down into the sofa to drink it.
“And I understand you have a solution for the Sleepers?” Remus said, tying to emphasise the positive rather than the overwhelming negatives.
“I think so, although nothing is certain. We’ve administered the first dose to one of the people we have here…if that succeeds it will go down to London. I hope Arthur Weasley will be one of the first to benefit.”
“We have sorely missed Arthur, and Bill of course,” Remus admitted. They had certainly missed Arthur badly. He was a man that carried with him a calm sense of leadership and the Order needed men who could lead, especially now.
“I can imagine.” She bowed her head a little as she remembered that Charlie must have left the school on the same mission. “How did Charlie cope?”
“Charlie wasn’t there. He and Severus where the only Order members missing. I think Dumbledore is a little worried about Charlie to be honest. He’s not been the same since Bill died.” Remus looked like he fully understood the trauma that Charlie was suffering. He had suffered in a similar way during the first war against Voldemort, not that he cared to dwell on that time much.
“No, it’s hard to lose a brother. Ron was very subdued for a long time but I think he’s found a way to take his mind of it now. She’s called Hermione.” Maeve allowed herself to smile as she thought of the oddly matched couple and then that thought immediately brought her back to her own predicament with Severus so she changed tack swiftly. “Thank you for the owl you sent yesterday. It cheered me up more than any Cheering charm could have.”
“I very much wanted to come back when Dumbledore told me what had happened but he insisted that I stay put. He said the two of you would work it out for yourselves. Have you seen Severus yet?” He looked at her and she felt ashamed of her avoidance of the one person she should have been actively seeking out.
“No, not yet. I’m afraid of what I will see.”
“What do you expect to see, the glaring face of his father? Come on, Maeve, you should know yourself better than that. He needs your support, not your hesitation. You should have gone to him when he was in the Hospital Wing because the longer you leave it the harder it will become. Hard as it is for me to defend the man, he must be feeling very low at the moment and he really will need you around.” Remus was finding this situation particularly difficult. It was bad enough seeing her struggling with her love for another man but the fact that that man was Severus Snape, of all people, made it even worse. He couldn’t let her see any of this though; it would only make her choices harder if she felt he did not fully support her.
“He’ll hate me for what I did,” she said limply. “He won’t want to see me.”
“Have you even tried?”
She shook her head and finished her tea. She knew Remus was talking complete sense but it was still hard to hear. To face Severus could mean facing her own demons about her mother’s death. She shakily returned her cup to the table and leant against Remus again. It was putting off the inevitable, sitting here and taking comfort from his presence when she should have been elsewhere. He rubbed her arm gently, enjoying the closeness and trying to accept that this was as close as they would ever be.
“Do you want me to speak to him?” he asked, hoping she wouldn’t say yes but feeling he had to make the offer anyway. “If you think it would help, I wouldn’t mind.”
“No, I’ll speak to him. I just need to pluck up enough courage. Isn’t it ridiculous?” She was tempted to laugh at herself if the situation hadn’t been so desperate.
“Isn’t what ridiculous?”
“Two days ago I couldn’t bear to be apart from him and now I’m worried about knocking on his door and saying hello. Can people change so quickly?”
“No one has changed, Maeve. You have some information that is unpleasant so you both need to deal with it… together.”
“Oh, I’ve had enough of this,” she said, standing up quickly. “This is silly, sitting here talking about it. There is nothing to be gained from crying, is there? I’ll go and see him now. You’re not going anywhere immediately, are you?”
“Tomorrow afternoon. You know where to find me in the meantime…if you need me that is.” He smiled his melancholy smile and she dropped down to kiss him on the cheek. It was unbelievable how things suddenly didn’t look so bad with Remus there to offer his own soothing brand of comfort and wise advice.
“Thank you, Remus. You do so much for me and I offer you so little in return.”
He patted her hands and smiled. “Your friendship is more than enough. Now go…and be understanding. If he lashes out it is because he is in pain, not because he wants to hurt you.”
She tried to work out what she would say to him as she made her slow progress to his dungeon but the words slipped around in her head and wouldn’t make any sense. It felt colder down here than it had ever felt before and she rubbed her arms in an attempt to get the blood flowing but she still felt deeply chilled. It was late afternoon and outside the final Quidditch practices would be coming to an end and the sun would be starting to dip in the sky. She wondered how Neville was getting along with the rest of the Gryffindors after his earlier heroics. No doubt one or two of them would look at him with a little more respect now he had proved himself in such a spectacular fashion.
As Neville had cast the Charm she had dived rapidly to help Draco but he had fallen too fast. She had drawn close just as he hit the ground with a sickening thump. A few second-years had watched the fall in horror and it had required a very sharp tone from her to get them to hurry off and fetch Madam Pomfrey. Neville had emerged from the school looking thoroughly shocked by the whole thing and it had taken multiple reassurances that Draco would live before he dared allow even the smallest smile to cross his lips at what he had done in saving Maeve from being spirited away by Lucius Malfoy.
But this was all irrelevant as Maeve found herself facing Severus’ door with no ready words and no idea of how she would react. She raised her hand and it hovered there for a few moments as she steeled herself for what was to come. She almost shot out of her skin when the dry cough rang in her ears.
“Looking for someone?”
“Mr Filch,” she said as she turned, her hand still hovering by the door. He stood looking her up and down with a beady eye, making her feel most uncomfortable.
“He’s not in.”
“Oh, really?” She tried not to let her disappointment show as her hand dropped. “Do you happen to know where he’s gone?”
“He said something about the lake.”
“The lake? Why would he go down to the lake?”
“Don’t ask me. How am I supposed to know the motives of you lot? Beyond me most of the time.”
He turned his back on her and shuffled on in search of more students to terrorise, leaving her feeling a little lost. The best thing to do would be to go down to the lake and find out just what he was doing. It would be most unlike him to have taken a walk just for the sake of doing so.
The atmosphere was sweet with the heady scent of early spring and she could almost have enjoyed drinking in the air. The birds were beginning to chorus away the end of another day and their song peppered the stillness. Only a slight breeze disturbed the trees as she made her heavy-footed way towards the shores of the polished lake. Tiny ripples moved across its corrugated surface in response to the beckoning fingers of the soft wind. The fall of the light lent a numinous feeling to the early evening and as Maeve reached the water’s edge she felt a shiver of something she could not articulate run down her body.
She saw him as soon as she rounded the first bend in the trees. He was standing by the little, broken jetty and looking out into space with his hands clasped behind him, rigid as the trees that flanked him. She approached slowly, reluctantly waiting for him to turn at the sound of her footsteps, but he didn’t turn. Even when she stood on a particularly large twig that cracked like an exploding cauldron he didn’t move. She came to a hall just a few feet from his unwelcoming back and at that moment Maeve thought she had made a mistake and should have left him well alone.
“Severus.” The name sighed its way from her mouth and roared into his ears, calling him back from whatever safe place he had been taking shelter in. He listened to the sound of her voice, savouring the quiet moment before the recriminations would begin. He would be berated and insulted, his name would be dragged through the mud beneath their feet and she would laugh in the face of any protestation he might make. This would be a fruitless exercise, he reflected as he turned to face her.
Both where equally shocked by what they found. Maeve’s face, so recently deluged with the barrage of her tears, was still puffy and her bright eyes were red-ringed and inflamed. Severus recognised the hardness behind her eyes and he knew it was, in some profound way, to do with him. Maeve, in turn, saw the remnants of the scars that she had inflicted; the tired, grey lines of lost sleep pulled harshly at his mouth and his eyes, oh, his eyes, Maeve was taken aback by the naked humanity she saw in them. He had been stripped bare of all pretence and what was left was the vulnerable man beneath the long-cultivated veneer of harshness. If Maeve had ever thought she would see his father when she next looked into his eyes she had been completely wrong. She saw exactly the opposite: here was the very essence of Severus Snape and he was looking at her with real uncertainty.
“I’m sorry,” she said. The words were so small and carried no weight, floating like a feather between the two of them. But all the same they weighed heavily on Severus as he looked at her tired and swollen face.
“You have no reason to be sorry,” he replied slowly, measuring his words against hers. “It was not your fault that this thing happened.”
“It was my fault I reacted the way I did.”
“Your reaction was entirely expected and fully justified.”
“Does it matter to us?”
“Does the knowledge matter or the act? When weighed against what we felt, I don’t think it does. But it is not I who has to look into my eyes and see my mother’s murderer there, is it?” His face didn’t move as he looked across the chasm at her.
“I don’t see that,” she replied.
“You told me that you would, your own words. I didn’t believe them at the time but having had the chance to think about things then why should it be any different?” He didn’t break off eye contact, challenging her to prove him right.
“I was upset and didn’t know what I was saying,” she said, taking a step towards him. “I would have said anything to anyone who tried to reason with me.” He stepped back, maintaining the distance between them. She knew they were close to deadlock so soon into the conversation and only something dredged up from the furthest reaches of herself would stop the gap widening even further. “You told me you loved me.”
“A slip, a mistake, it was inappropriate at the time.”
“And what about now, is it appropriate now?”
“It will never be appropriate. They are words that don’t belong in my mouth.”
“I love you, too,” she said, keeping the thread that hung between them intact, refusing to look away. “I love you, Severus. I want to be as close to you as one human can be to another. We will not end this way because I will not let us end this way.” Her voice rose sharply and it stung him into breaking the eye contact. “Don’t look away.”
He turned back to her, his heart wanting what his head would not allow. She stepped forward again and as he made a move to step back she drew her wand.
“Don’t make me hex you into standing still,” she said without any trace of humour in her tone. “What do I need to say to convince you that this information is not important? How can I convince you that we are more important than your father ever was? If we walk away now he will have won. He will have succeeded in ruining your life long after his own miserable existence ended.”
Severus was silent as he watched her wand hover. He had no fear of what she would do with it but its presence recalled the moment she had felled Lucius to save his life and he felt a moment of hesitation over the course he had chosen to take. He did not want to have her because she felt pity for him. Nor did he want to love someone who felt revulsion whenever she looked a little too closely into his eyes. And yet…Maeve was not looking at him with revulsion. There was nothing but honesty pouring from those tear-swollen eyes.
“Severus,” she stopped, loading his name with such importance that he snapped his head up and looked straight into her. “Marry me?”
He felt the chill that had settled over him shift slightly, as if splinters of ice were falling from his body. “What?”
“Marry me. If it’s the only way I can make you see that I will not allow us to be separated again then marry me.”
“Marry you?” he repeated her words as if they were from a strange, unfamiliar language. “You want me as your husband?”
“I think that’s the general idea with marriage.” Her heart had stopped beating to any definable rhythm as she stood by the rotting jetty waiting for this man to give her the future she wanted.
“When?” he asked carefully, as if he were considering some extra class that had to be fitted into the schedule.
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Are you accepting?” She gripped the decaying wood of the jetty with the slender fingers of her free hand and held on for dear life. Her wand wavered slightly as she tried to prevent herself from screaming at him with frustration. Could he possibly be about to agree to her plea for an end to their division and move on to something more permanent?
There was only the slightest trace of a smile on his lips as he stepped forward and moved her wand to one side. With arms that felt stronger than they had for some time he pushed her against the rough bark of a tree and took her hands in his own, meshing their fingers together to form an unbreakable bond. His face regarded her dangerously for a few moments, as if deciding whether a kiss was called for but he dismissed the idea in favour of words.
“I think the idea is agreeable. But if you ever tell anyone it was you who proposed and not I then I will call it off.”
She knew, as he finally did kiss her, that he was only half joking.
Madam Pomfrey found she could not help herself popping her head in on Imelda at absurdly short intervals. Within five minutes of leaving the room she would be back again, nervously looking around the door for signs of either improvement or deterioration. The windows had darkened as night fell and really it was high time that she left for the night but she couldn’t, not now. She was surprised that Professor O’Malley had not been back to check on their patient. It had been three hours since she had left and she should have been back for an update.
Madam Pomfrey took to walking up and down the ward, double-checking the other patients. The potion she had given the Malfoy boy had ensured he stayed in a deep sleep, which thankfully meant she didn’t have to listen to his unreasonable demands or his unnecessary, false cries of pain. Hopefully his mother would arrive soon to take him away from the school and then they could all relax just a little. She tucked stiff sheets around the restless figure of the Gibson boy who had suffered a lapse of consciousness from a particularly loud, young mandrake root and was taking his time to come round.
It was very late evening when the ward doors finally opened and the young professor walked in with Professor Snape following close behind her. Madame Pomfrey smiled to herself at the expression on the female teacher’s face. That little altercation had definitely been resolved, and in a very satisfactory way from the look of things. Although Professor Snape looked just as distant and aloof as ever he also had a slight light in his eyes that had never been there before.
“Good evening, Professors,” she said, stopping midway down the ward and waiting for them to reach her. “I was wondering when I would see you again, Professor O’Malley.”
“I’m sorry, I had some things to attend to. Is there any change?”
“No, no change for the moment,” she replied, detecting a slight blush on Maeve’s face. “Would you like to see her again?”
“Yes, please. I thought Professor Snape might like to see the results, if there are any, of our work.”
Madam Pomfrey nodded politely to Severus, who returned the nod with a blank expression, before opening the door to the room and allowing them in first.
Maeve found herself looking into the grey eyes of a bewildered witch, who was busy trying to get out of bed. She was half-out when she noticed there was a man present and she quickly pushed her bare legs back between the covers with a rise of red in her cheeks.
“Where am I?” she asked. Her voice came out in a harsh, ragged croak and Severus immediately produced a glass of water from his wand. He handed it to Maeve who passed it on to Imelda. As she drank deeply from the glass her eyes darted from Severus to Maeve with suspicion filling their mouse-like spheres.
“You’re at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” Maeve informed her gently. “How do you feel?”
Before Imelda had the time to answer Poppy was at her side and passing her hand over her forehead. She requested that Severus and Maeve leave them for a few minutes and they moved reluctantly towards the door. Once outside Maeve couldn’t hide her glee at their apparent success.
“I can’t believe it!” she said with a huge smile. “This means we can take it down to London straight away and help the others.”
“Don’t count your dragons,” Severus said tartly. “We don’t know if she is all right until Madam Pomfrey has examined her.”
“Rubbish, she’ll be fine. I knew it would work.”
“Psychic now, are we, as well as infuriating?”
“Oh, shut up, you wet blanket. If I had known you were going to be this miserable about the whole thing I would have left you in your dungeon with your bats.”
“I might prefer their company.”
“Are you going to marry them?”
A smile turned up the corners of his straight mouth and he refused to respond. Fortunately Madam Pomfrey chose that moment to open the door and, with a smile of satisfaction, ushered them back into the room.
“She’s perfectly well,” the medi-witch pronounced. “And I have administered some of the potion to Cornelius, so we need to inform Professor Dumbledore immediately.”
“I think I can take care of that,” Severus said and marched away from the ward. He was glad to escape its confines having so recently been detained there himself. Maeve watched him go with a feeling of excitement bubbling up inside her. Emotionally, today was proving to be something of a whirlwind and she was glad she had finally reached the eye of the storm. Turning her attention back to Imelda she could see that the girl was already looking much improved. Her eyes had begun to shine a little more, her skin was less washed-out and she could speak properly, with no trace of the hoarseness that she had first shown.
“I was walking down the street, minding my own business like, miss,” she said to Maeve, her voice animated and lively from so little use. Clearly this girl was a chatterbox and she had several months to catch up with. “It didn’t smell or anythink. One minute I’m looking at this black figure rising into the air and the next I open my eyes and I’m seeing an ‘ospital. S’not nice, I can tell you. Really confusing, not knowing where you are or what you are doing there. Does my mum know I’m ‘ere?”
“Your mum?” Maeve glanced at Madam Pomfrey who shrugged.
“You would have to ask Professor Dumbledore. I wasn’t aware there were any relatives,” the medi-witch replied.
“You mean Mum ain’t been to see me?” A tear threatened to escape her eyes. “I want to see my mum.”
“I’ll go and see Professor Dumbledore now and find out for you, . I won’t be long,” Maeve said.
“Who are you then?” Imelda asked, before Maeve had the chance to leave.
“Maeve O’Malley,” she said, sticking out her hand for the other witch to shake. Imelda looked at it for a moment, as if unsure what to do, before finally holding out her own small hand to be shook.
“I think I’ve ‘eard of you,” Imelda said with a nod. “Weren’t you the woman ‘as himself is after getting a hold of?”
“How did you know that?” Maeve asked, a little sharper than she intended.
“S’all over The Leaky Cauldron. I work there,” she said proudly. “Mum got me a job as a chambermaid and I worked me way up to assistant housekeeper.”
“Really?” Maeve looked discomfited by the fact she was the subject of pub gossip but she realised it was only to be expected. After all the exposure in the newspapers and gossip columns over Christmas she should have been more surprised not to be talked about over a few pints down the pub. “Well, yes, that’s me,” she said sadly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I will go and check with Professor Dumbledore regarding your mother.”
Maeve nodded to Madam Pomfrey, who still looked amazed that The Leaky Cauldron had housekeepers, before hurrying from the ward with much the same relief that Severus had felt at leaving the feeling of confinement behind. They would have to get the remaining bowls of the cure sent down to London immediately and she was eager to accompany them. After worrying over Arthur for so long she had the desire to be the one who administered the paste. Dumbledore would probably say no but he had said no before and it hadn’t stopped her, besides which, if she went now Remus could accompany her before he left for France. In her excitement she didn’t consider the fact that Remus might be very tired and not want to make the trip to London on brooms. She did realise, however, that she should have learned to Apparate given her dislike of brooms. Never being one for travel she had never really learned how to do it swiftly and with ease. Perhaps Professor Dumbledore would allow them to use a Portkey.
She almost ran towards his office and was humming to herself as the moving staircase carried her into Dumbledore’s domain. The door to his office opened and his smiling face beckoned her in.
“Good news, my dear, good news indeed.”
Severus was sitting at Dumbledore’s desk with a fixed expression of disinterest on his face.
“It’s fantastic news, Professor. We can get it down to London immediately and hopefully help everyone down there. Imelda looks none the worse for wear so…”
Professor Dumbledore cut her off mid-prattle. “Yes, Maeve that is good news to but I was thinking more of your own good news.”
Maeve looked at him blankly for a few moments and then switched her gaze to Severus, who raised a black eyebrow at her and tapped his fingers together gently.
“I’m sorry…” she said, looking back to the headmaster.
“Your upcoming nuptials,” Dumbledore prompted. “Your recent engagement. I can’t tell you how pleased I am for you both. Believe me when I say I haven’t been so pleased about an upcoming marriage since the news that Norman Casanova was finally tying the knot with Bathsheba Weekes. Womankind became safe overnight once he was off the scene…but I digress.” He took her hands and smiled at her with that familiar twinkle that had been absent for some time. “It is very good news in the midst of such much bad and I am thrilled for you both. Any help you need in organising anything, you only have to ask.”
“Well, thank you, Professor,” she said, stumbling over her words at the revelation that Severus had told him without consulting her. “We haven’t really thought that far ahead.”
“Of course not, but when you do,” he released her hands, “keep us in mind.”
“Yes, now, about these Sleepers.” She went to sit by Severus not out of affection but so she could keep an eye on him. “I would like to take the potion down to London myself. We have spent so long on this that it would be gratifying to see the results.”
“I don’t think that’s advisable, Maeve,” Dumbledore said as he stirred his cocoa with a quill. “You know it’s not safe for you beyond these walls with Meany on the loose and Lucius so recently escaped.”
“It’s not safe inside these walls…not from Meany anyway, or Lucius for that matter,” she argued. “And I could always change my appearance for the journey. If we went by Portkey then it would be safe, surely?”
Professor Dumbledore looked from Maeve to Severus, who seemed to be having some problems with his cup of tea as it melted in his hands, causing hot liquid to spill all over his robes. He shot from his seat, brandishing his wand and clearing up the mess before the tea burned through the fabric of his robes to his skin. Maeve smiled up at him sweetly. It was nice to be able to do the occasional bit of wandless magic and melting things was her speciality. It was also nice to get him back for announcing their engagement to anyone before she had said it was all right to do so.
Severus sat back down and glared at her. “I have to agree with Professor Dumbledore. It would not be safe.”
“I would be fine,” she insisted, continuing to smile at him.
“Perhaps a Portkey could be arranged, but you would be straight in and straight out of St Mungo’s. No visiting Diagon Alley or Grimmauld Place,” Dumbledore insisted.
“Absolutely,” she agreed eagerly, sensing triumph.
“And perhaps Ron and Charlie could accompany you,” Dumbledore added and with that Maeve knew she had won.
“And Remus,” she asked quietly.
“If he would like to go then I have no objections.”
“And what about me?” Severus interjected. “Am I not to be included on this little jaunt?”
“No, Severus,” Dumbledore said firmly. “You are too vulnerable to Voldemort. I will not have you making unnecessary trips.”
“But it isn’t entirely necessary for Maeve to go,” he argued.
“But Maeve can disguise her appearance,” Dumbledore said evenly. The look he gave Severus left no room for any further argument so Severus closed his mouth firmly and seethed to himself. “Very well, if you would like to give me a short time to arrange the Portkey. I am sure Ron and Charlie will not have gone to bed yet so I will arrange for us all to meet back here in… shall we say half an hour?”
“Excellent,” Maeve said. “I can go and collect the remaining paste.” Both she and Severus rose at the same time but it was Severus who was out of the door first. He was extremely annoyed at the trick with the tea and at Dumbledore’s refusal to allow him to go. It never used to bother the headmaster that Severus would be sent to possible death so why the change of heart? He didn’t even notice that Maeve wasn’t right behind him until he had reached the corridor at the foot of the stairs.
“Maeve,” Dumbledore called her back as she was about to leave the office.
“Yes, Professor?” She turned back and he was pleased with the fire he saw in her eyes. How fortunate that she and Severus had enough self-possession to work through something so ill-fated as Kentigern’s actions. How very lucky they both were to have come to this point in their previously arduous lives.
“He didn’t tell me, you know. Severus may be an excellent Occlumens but even he isn’t on his guard all of the time. I knew what he was feeling without him having to tell me. He wouldn’t have told anyone without asking you first.”
“Oh,” she said, having the grace to look ashamed.
“So I really think you should say sorry for the little piece of naughtiness with the teacup, don’t you?”
“Yes, Professor.”
With slow steps she walked to the staircase and caught up with Severus who was standing, waiting, with arms folded tightly across his chest and menace written all over his face. As she stepped out from behind the statue he looked at her crossly.
“That was childish, almost on a par with some of Potter’s stunts,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” she replied from beneath lowered lashes. “I thought you had told him about… well, about…” She was still afraid to say the words out loud in case he laughed and told her he had been joking.
“About our plans to marry,” he said, finishing her sentence for her. “No, why would I do that without asking you first?”
“You wouldn’t,” she admitted, wondering why she was always so quick to jump to the wrong conclusion. “I’m sorry, for the teacup and for not believing you.”
“Hmm, apology accepted. It was rather a nice piece of magic,” he said grudgingly. “Wandless magic always impresses me more than the more extravagant wand-waving variety; subtler, mental input is required. When did you learn?”
She liked the look of admiration in his eyes and she bathed in his rare outburst of praise for a second or two before replying.
“It made using magic slightly easier around Niall. He didn’t like ‘extravagant wand-waving’ so I avoided it. I avoided using much magic at all really.” She chewed her lip for a moment as she thought, regretfully, of all the hard work she had done because Niall was a Squib and she had met with disapproval when using magic around the house.
Severus turned to walk down the corridor and she fell into an easy step beside him.
“You shouldn’t have been left there for so long,” he grumbled under his breath.
“What’s done is done,” she said philosophically. “Can’t undo the past but we can create the future.”
He threw her a look that suggested she had been reading too many wizarding self-help books before allowing her to slip a hand into his as they walked to her room. He was a little anxious that they would be seen but he was rather enjoying the warmth of her skin against his own and so he left her hand nestled in his. They had reached her own corridor when the door next to hers was opened and Remus’ grey-flecked head poked out onto the corridor. He saw immediately that they were hand in hand and despite all his confused feelings he managed a smile that made Maeve smile in response.
“Good evening,” Remus said brightly and Severus scowled in return as Maeve let go of his hand and went to give Remus a hug.
“It’s all right,” she whispered in his ear. “It’s going to be just fine.”
He gave her a hard squeeze before letting her go, ignoring the black looks that Severus continued to throw his way.
“Will you come to London with me?” she asked. “We are going to take the cure for the vapour down. It works!”
“That’s excellent news, Maeve. I am so pleased for you.”
“It’s not her you should be pleased for,” Severus said waspishly. “It’s the poor fools who got themselves poisoned.”
“I am pleased that all her efforts have been rewarded,” Remus said patiently, not even looking at him. “But why do you want me to come? Why not take Severus?”
“Dumbledore won’t let him go,” Maeve explained. “Says it’s too dangerous. Ron and Charlie are going down too for when we wake Arthur. Dumbledore is organising a Portkey now. Say you’ll come.”
Poor Remus was helpless in the face of such entreaties and he nodded his head, much to Severus’ displeasure. He told Maeve he would re-pack his small bag and would meet her in Dumbledore’s office at the appointed time. Maeve was now almost deliriously happy and oblivious to Severus’ quiet attack of jealousy.
“And will you go down looking like Selene again?” he asked coldly.
“No, I don’t think so,” she said as she opened the door and practically bounced into the room. The five remaining bowls were exactly where she had left them and she walked across to run a happy finger along the mantlepiece. “I think just a slight change will suffice, perhaps black hair instead of red.”
“You look quite presentable with black hair,” he said, remembering the Halloween Ball. “I could almost find you attractive.”
“Thanks so much,” she grinned. As she turned back to him she realised he was more put out than she had suspected about not going to London. “You don’t mind so much, do you?”
“I’ll miss you,” he replied simply.
“I’ll miss you too, but it won’t be for long. I’ll be back in a few hours. I just want to see Arthur wake up.”
“Sentimental rubbish,” Severus spat.
“So is missing someone,” she said, crossing over to him and slipping her arms around his waist. He held her by the shoulders and watched her for a moment before folding her into his robes and holding her tightly against whatever threat she may face beyond the castle walls.
“I should be coming with you, regardless of what Dumbledore says and regardless of my own safety.”
“Remus will be with me, Severus. You know he will protect me if necessary… not that it will be necessary,” she added hurriedly. “I love you.”
She still couldn’t get used to saying those words and they felt like a strange taste on her tongue, as if they were an exotic fruit she had just discovered and suddenly couldn’t get enough of.
“I love you too, Maeve, and that is why you must be careful. Straight there and straight back and no deviation along the way.” He pushed her away and looked at her sternly. “I would like to get you back in one piece.”
“I promise.”
Fifteen minutes later and they were all back in Professor Dumbledore’s office with a very worried-looking Charlie and Ron, who hadn’t been told the reason for their summoning. Professor Dumbledore glanced at the dragon’s egg timer on his desk and Maeve knew that was to be their Portkey. Its sand trickled through the tiny neck because of its recent enchantment and fire licked up from its glass base.
“I want to see you back in this office in five hours, Maeve, no matter what happens. Are you absolutely clear on that point?” Dumbledore said to her. She nodded her reply and much to Ron and Charlie’s surprise she turned and kissed Severus squarely on the mouth. They still hadn’t got over her bobbed, black hair and pale blue eyes so this was one more revelation for them.
“I will be back soon,” she promised, as she reached for the Portkey along with the other three. Maeve felt the familiar tug as they vanished from the office and almost instantly arrived in a white-walled room at St Mungo’s.