Chapter Two - Meeting Maeve
Dislcaimer: Everything actually belongs to the lovely and talented J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing them.
Maeve strolled along the path toward the stone circles, glad to be away from home. She needed some of the sphagnum moss and heather that grew there for a potion she wanted to try brewing. Supposedly using these ingredients in a calming potion would increase its effects. She would try just about anything to get her sister to stop lamenting her upcoming betrothal.
Morag’s raging words rang in her ears even now. “How can those Blacks think they can foist off their younger son on me?” “He’s a year younger than I am!” and “I don’t even know what he looks like!’
Shrugging to herself, Maeve was thankful that her unlady-like behavior had assured that she wasn’t the one to be betrothed to a stranger. Her more proper sister had known since she was ten-years-old that this betrothal would happen on her fifteenth birthday. The marriage didn’t have to happen for years for the contract to be fulfilled. Many things could happen within the next six years. She could actually fall in love with this Regulus character, although that was doubtful. Once Morag made up her mind about something, there was usually no changing it… unless she was persuaded. Used to being coaxed and cajoled by their mother, Morag would likely respond well to male flattery. If Regulus Black took after his grandfather “ a striking man at nearly eighty, - he had a good chance at charming his betrothed.
A bark startled her out of her reverie, she spun about nervously. Maeve didn’t want to be attacked by some sheepherders’ dog. Her eyes widened in apprehension when she spotted the huge black dog, the rolling hills she was walking through didn’t offer much in the way of a place to get away from such a large dog. She backed away slowly; perhaps if she showed him she wasn’t aggressive he’d lose interest.
Sirius chuckled inwardly. His Animagus form startled most people, but he didn’t want her to be frightened of him. He crouched down, wagging his tail madly and whined softly. Creeping forward with his belly dragging the ground, he let out a series of soft enticing woofs.
Maeve relaxed. He seemed friendly enough. She held out her hand and cooed, “Nice doggy.”
Sirius woofed again rose to a half-crouch height and approached her slowly tail wagging. She wasn’t a complete coward, one point to her favor.
“It’s alright boy, come here,” she coaxed, not knowing he needed no encouragement.
Sirius came to his full stance height and bounded toward her with a happy bark of laughter. She was shorter than he’d suspected, his shoulder was level to her waist.
Maeve laughed as the dog wound his way around her, running her fingers through his thick soft fur as she muttered compliments, “What a nice doggy you are. What a good boy!”
Sirius knocked the basket she carried from her hand and stuck his nose in. Perhaps she was going on a picnic. He was hungry for the first time since coming to this benighted place. He drew back with a ferocious sneeze, causing her to laugh again.
“That’s what you get for sticking your nose into things that don’t belong to you!” she half-scolded. “Potion ingredients can have that effect on you!” She rescued her basket and turned back toward the stone circles, “I have to go now, I have more ingredients to gather.”
Sirius fell in beside her, curious to see what more she was gathering.
“Coming along are you?” she asked, not really expecting the dog to answer.
Sirius woofed, knowing how people liked to imagine dogs could understand what they were saying.
It was a beautiful day, warm and sunny. The sky was a bright clear blue with only a few puffy clouds to be seen for miles. A soft breeze was blowing, tugging at Maeve’s curls. One lock of that bright carroty colored hair worked its way loose and tickled her face. Absently she tucked it behind one ear, Sirius wanted to be able to tuck that lock away for her, and feel for himself, if it were as soft as it looked.
He woofed up at her and she giggled softly, “Wanting some attention are you my fine fellow?” She dug her fingers into his thick soft fur and scratched gently as they walked along. “I wonder who you belong to.”
Sirius woofed and nudged her hip with his shoulder as they walked along, he didn’t belong to anyone but her at the moment.
“You’re awfully friendly,” she mused aloud. “Not skinny enough to be a stray, but I don’t remember anyone around her having such a big dog. Perhaps you belong to some muggle family here on vacation.”
Sirius snorted. As if he could belong to a Muggle.
They approached the stone circles and Maeve began her search. “I need a sprig of heather with a bud, a just forming flower and a full bloom,” she told the dog absently as she sorted her way through a likely looking patch.
Sirius woofed an answer and began nosing through another patch. He found what she was looking for and bit through the stalk at the base, carrying it to her with his tail wagging furiously.
“Why that’s perfect!” she exclaimed happily, wrapping her arm around his neck in an impulsive hug. “What a smart dog you are!”
Sirius growled contentedly, nearly a purr if a dog could use such an expression. Maeve laughed and wrapped her fingers through the fur on either side of his face and planted a kiss on top of his head. “Now I just need a bit of sphagnum moss and I’ll have everything I need.”
Sirius barked at the challenge, he had no idea what sphagnum moss was but if it earned more kisses and pets he was all for finding it for her. He loped off a bit and pawed up a likely looking growth light green, full of leaves that looked almost like flowers, with a very strong odor, it tasted terrible when he picked it up to carry it to her, but he tried to ignore the flavor as he carried it to her.
Dropping it on the ground next to where she was digging, he woofed expectantly. She picked up his offering and giggled. “Perhaps you are not so smart my fine friend! This is the wrong color moss! I need a very deep pink color, not this light green.”
She continued to laugh as he sneezed and snorted trying to get the nasty flavor from his mouth. He must have looked quite mournful because she stretched out her hand and called, “Oh, come on, you can’t know everything, it’s not like you could have possibly taken Herbology now, could you?”
Sirius snorted again. If only she knew. But if she were offering more affection, he was taking her up on the offer.
She gave him a quick scratch and said, “Oh no, you are not going to make me forget what I came here for.” She went back to digging up a patch with a soft rose color. “I need this particular color to add to a calming draft for my sister,” she told him absently.
Sirius’ curiosity peaked. Regulus was to be betrothed to her sister, and perhaps he could find out something to tease his brother with.
He lay down next to her as she put a large clump of moss into her basket, looking at her questioningly.
“Curious are you?” Maeve asked with a smile, “Are you certain you don’t have a bit of cat in you?”
Sirius grunted in distaste.
Maeve laughed again; she had a very pleasant laugh, he thought. “Alright, Morag has known she was to be betrothed to the eldest Black boy since she was ten-years-old. Now that she’s fifteen the betrothal was to be confirmed on the Summer Solstice this June, right here in these circles. Actually it’s over there, in Fingal’s Cauldron Seat. Now, it seems that she will not be betrothed to the eldest boy, but to the youngest. She’s not happy about that, said it’s an insult to betroth her to the younger boy. You see, he’s younger than she is.”
Sirius snorted, unable to contain his amusement. So the sister didn’t want Regulus any more than Regulus wanted her!
Maeve laughed at his snort. “You agree with her? Or are you laughing at her plight?” The breeze took that moment to pick up again and tug her hair free from behind her ear. Sirius desperately wanted to reach up and tuck it away for her, but couldn’t in his dog form.
Absently, she pulled it behind her ear once again before continuing, “I don’t understand why she is so very upset about not remembering him from school. It’s not like a Slytherin would hang around Hufflepuffs. They think only their house-mates are worthy of notice.” Looking the dog in the eye, she continued, “So what if she hasn’t seen him before? She’s had classes with his brother, who Morag thinks is handsome. I’ve only seen him at a distance, strutting around, but since the girls in our house giggle about his looks constantly, his brother couldn’t be a complete troll!”
Sirius harrumphed over the ‘strutting’, but thought ‘troll’ an apt description of his brother’s charming personality.
Hearing the noise, she asked with a smile, “Oh really… know this boy, do you?”
He gave a woof in answer.
“Well, I can still hope that the younger brother won’t be a troll, for my sister’s sake.” He admired Maeve’s grace as she rose to her feet. Sirius rose as well and leaned against her, savoring her warm softness as much as he could while in his present form. “It’s not like he is so very much younger than she is, either, just a year. Besides, if the gossips at Hogwarts are correct, the eldest son is a right cad!”
He moved away a bit and looked up. Sirius couldn’t quite make up his mind what he thought of her. Maeve was lovely, that was evident. He liked her fiery hair, bright blue eyes, trim figure, and attractive laugh, but she seemed to have some preconceived notions about him. He didn’t agree with her judgments about his character, although they weren’t completely unfounded. If he was honest with himself, and he did attempt to be honest with himself at least, he could be a cad, but not a complete cad.
Lowering his head as they walked along, he pondered how he would handle meeting her in his human form. An idea glimmered; maybe he would plan to meet her somewhere away from their families. He wouldn’t tell her who he was, at first. Let her get to know the real him, without her preconceptions of him being a cad. Once she realized that he as a fine person in more than looks, he’d introduce himself properly.
The more Sirius thought about it, the more he liked the idea. The only problem was coming up with a plan. Inspiration struck. James! He could think of something clever and foolproof. His mother had been too busy trying to pretend her family was under her thumb to tell his grandparents he was barred from owling anyone. Black pride would be her downfall. Tail wagging furiously, he couldn’t wait to get back to the drafty manor and start writing his letter to James.
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Once again I'd like to than Kerichi from taking time away from creating her own wonderful stories to beta mine. You are wonderful, my friend!
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