𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

" the offer "

✤ ✾ ✤

. . . OCTOBER, 1975

ONCE Ravenclaw had beaten Slytherin in the opening match 240-20, the school had realized that it wasn't going to be another wash out year for Ravenclaw. Finn had shaped up to be a rather good captain, and it was beginning to show. As soon as his fear of Maeve taking over as captain beat out his fear of being captain, all was well.

But even the thought of the impending Gryffindor and Ravenclaw match was not enough to distract Maeve from the reality that was her grades. She had recently received a letter by owl post from her parents. Half of it was her dad giving her well wishes and updates on happenings in the village (Declan's car was broken into, did you know Mrs. Lawler bought a dog?). The other half was her ma warning her to tread carefully this term. It wouldn't have bothered Maeve so much if it wasn't a fair warning.

It was nearly Hallowe'en, which meant two things. One, the castle was starting to take on a spookier-than-normal air and pumpkin-themed foods frequented the tables at dinner more and more often. Some of them were delicious, but Maeve thought that the pumpkin-spiced gravy was a bit much. Two, it meant that the start-of-term excitement was a faraway dream. The O.W.L lectures were more tedious, and the fifth years had sunk into the stupor of studying. The library was always full and the Ravenclaw common room was a lawless land of parchment, ink, and textbooks.

Maeve had been so hopeful that her plan would go off without a hitch, but it was beginning to take its toll. Teaching herself the basics of subjects for Trinity was eating into time she should have been using to revise for her actual classes. Finn's practice schedule was rigorous, and until the Gryffindor match they were practicing almost every day of the week. Four hours of sleep a night wasn't helping anything.

On Tuesday morning, Flitwick was passing out their graded essays when they got to Charms. He stopped in front of Maeve's table, gave her a short look of obvious pity, and slid the parchment face-down across the table.

"An E?" Mimi was moaning from behind them. "I'm never going to get an O at this rate."

But Maeve had bigger problems than Mimi's Exceeds Expectations. She was staring at a piece of parchment marked with a shining red P for Poor. Before Elara could see, she flipped it over and stuffed it in her bag.

"Alright?" Elara asked, slightly worried. The page in front of her gleamed with an O.

"Good, grand," Maeve coughed. Trinity doesn't care about O.W.Ls, Maeve reminded herself. But another small voice shot back, but Maeve cares, doesn't she?

And somehow, she did still care. The memory of her ma reading her last report card and the gloating look on Sorcha's face wasn't easily forgotten. Aoife had always made perfect marks, too. Her O.W.L year had been filled with O's in all subjects except for Care of Magical Creatures, in which she only got an E. Their ma had been Prefect and Head Girl, the picture-perfect Ravenclaw student. She had expected the same for Maeve, her only daughter sorted into her old house.

Quidditch practice that day did nothing to raise Maeve's spirits, either. She was in a terrible mood and she had begun to take it out on the practice Bludger. It whizzed across the pitch and back. Poor Edmund didn't know what to do with himself. He had barely gotten one hit in when Finn suddenly whistled and stopped practice.

"What is it now?" Maeve demanded, darting over to him.

Estella pointed in the direction that Finn was looking. "It seems we have an audience."

At the base of the stands stood two Gryffindor boys. One of them had a pair of omnioculars. Upon realizing he was being watched, he stuffed them in the pocket of his robes and jumped back behind the red and gold flap they had been standing in front of. As far as Maeve knew, neither of them were on the Quidditch team, which meant Gryffindor was wising up about their strategies. It was against the rules for other teams to attend practices uninvited, but there was no rule about those who didn't play Quidditch.

Charlie gritted his teeth and spat into the air. "They cannot keep getting away with this. I wouldn't be surprised if they sabotaged the match again." It was uncharacteristic of him to be so upset. Maeve had only seen him truly angry once, and she didn't want it to happen again.

"I've heard them talking," Will told them as he tightened the strap of his glove. "They think they have it in the bag. They've started saying that our win over Slytherin was a fluke."

"If they're spying on us, they're clearly all talk," Maeve reasoned. "They have no idea what they're walking into. They're worried."

They all turned to look at her. "You've got the closest in. Has your sister said anything to you?" Kian asked, leaning forward.

"You are out of your mind if you think Sorcha Byrne is telling me Quidditch secrets. I wouldn't be surprised if she tries to kill me on the pitch."

✤

EVEN on a Tuesday night, the library was still full. Madam Pince was already making her rounds. She shushed students and confiscated snacks left and right. They were mostly out of her path of destruction where they sat in their usual hideaway.
"Where is Mimi, anyway?" Avanti asked, snapping her gum. "She's been complaining all day about not having enough time to do her homework."

"Prefect meeting," Elara told her. Her bag was filled with popcorn and she kept grabbing handfuls when Madam Pince wasn't near. "The Head Girl isn't happy about the Prefects and their rounds. Says they're letting people get away with breaking too many rules. Apparently, first years have been sneaking down to the kitchens at night."

"The Head Girl sounds fun," Avanti snorted, flipping the page of her book.

They were sitting in the poetry section of the library, which was their normal spot when the four of them studied together. Elara was working on a lengthy essay for Divination, and Avanti and Maeve were organizing their notes from Care of Magical Creatures. Maeve had seen Remus sitting alone and reading when she walked in, but he too had left for the Prefect meeting.

Maeve scrunched a small stack of parchment in her hands. "What does a Flobberworm eat?"

"Cabbage and lettuce," Avanti told her without looking up.

"And why must it eat out of both ends of its body?"

"Convenience?"

Elara leaned over to look at the open page of Maeve's textbook. She pressed a finger to the disgustingly accurate illustration. "That's a Flobberworm? I thought they were cute."

"What part of flobber and worm made you think it would be cute?" Maeve laughed.

Elara just shrugged. She pulled her gray cardigan tighter over her shoulders. "Why don't you get to study something like Pygmy Puffs?"

"Because Kettleburn only cares to show us creatures that are either ugly or dangerous," Maeve said, shutting the book and putting it away. She pulled out her Transfiguration parchment and began to work on it instead.

Avanti peered over Maeve's shoulder. "Wasn't that due yesterday?"

Maeve shifted it out of her view. "I asked for an extension."

Avanti just narrowed her darkly-lined eyes. "McGonagall doesn't seem like the type to give out extensions."

"Fine. I didn't turn it in on time. Happy?"

Avanti groaned. "No, I'm not happy. Maeve, are you turning in things on time for any of your classes?"

"Of course I am! I almost always do."

"You used to," Elara corrected through a mouth of popcorn.

"My record this term isn't stellar," Maeve conceded. She held up her quill and parchment. "But I'm working on it."

Avanti spoke again after a precious few moments of silence. "Have we decided if we're going to the Halloween party or not?"

Every year, one of the Houses hosted the school's Hallowe'en party that would take place in secret after the feast in the Great Hall. First through third years were never invited, but a handful of them always found their way there regardless. This was the first year since they were old enough to go without sneaking in that Ravenclaw was hosting. Every year was a chance for the hosting house to top the previous year's event.

"Mimi said no," Elara told her.

"Mimi always says no," Maeve said with a sigh. "Even before she was a Prefect. It's what makes her a good Prefect."

"Well I want to go." Avanti placed a manicured hand on her chest. "Ravenclaw is hosting this year! There's no reason not to."

"That would be the reason not to. Didn't you hear who was in charge of the planning?" Maeve laughed.

"No."

"Whenever Finn isn't talking about Quidditch, he's talking about that party. He and one of the seventh year boys are putting it on."

Avanti put her head down on the table with a thunk. "This is the worst."

"Maybe they'll surprise us," Elara shrugged. "We thought Finn was going to bring the Quidditch team to ruin, but he seems to be doing alright so far."

"We'll see," Maeve told her. "The real test is our match against Gryffindor next week."

And almost as if she had summoned them, a loud set of footsteps made their way to the space three tables down from where they sat. Sirius and James sat down, followed shortly by Peter, who always seemed to be bringing up the rear.

"I feel like I've seen those three more in the last week than I have in the past four years," Elara whispered across the table.

Maeve knew why that was, but elected to stay silent.

"I do my best to ignore them," Avanti sniffed. "But I must say, I agree with the gossip. Sirius Black is nice to look at."

Maeve pressed a hand to the side of her face. "I think I'm going to go back up to the common room. I need to finish this essay."

"Go to bed in your room tonight, please! Not the couch in the common room," Elara said sternly. "And take some popcorn with you."

With a handful of popcorn and the rest of her things, Maeve left the table. Her Mary Janes tapped with an even cadence as she exited the library. She hummed softly to herself, and for a while she even pretended that she couldn't hear the footsteps echoing behind her. When she couldn't stand it anymore, Maeve stopped in her tracks and Sirius almost ran into her.

"Why have you suddenly become a gnat I cannot rid myself of?" she accused.

"Me? A gnat?" Sirius pressed a hand to his chest. "Maybe you're just paying more attention to me."

"You followed me out of the library."

"Only because you left as soon as I got there. Are you avoiding me?"

"I'd like to be, but here we are."

He pressed a hand to his chest. His red and gold tie was artfully askew, complemented by the dark, mussed waves of his hair. "You wound me."

"Come off it, Sirius. What is it you need?" She lowered her voice considerably. "Didn't Remus talk to you?"

"Oh, he did. Explained it all. Which is why you're our top pick."

She frowned. People milling through the halls stared at the two of them as they passed. A Hufflepuff girl pointed and whispered something to one of her friends. "Top pick?"

"Yeah, we've been going over our candidates."

Maeve still wasn't following. "Candidates?"

"Is there an echo in here?"

Maeve wanted to hit him over the head. Sirius glanced over his shoulder once and grabbed her by the elbow to drag her down the narrow service corridor to their left. And then he shoved her unceremoniously into the broom closet and shut the door behind them.

"You're a perfect fit," he continued in the darkness. "Discreet, smart, decidedly not a Prefect. Plus, we've been watching you during Transfiguration and I must say, you've impressed us all."

Maeve raised a hand and casted Lumos to light up the small space. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Sirius looked like a crazed madman with a row of cleaning products behind him. He grabbed her by the wrist, lifting up her hand in mock admiration. "See, wandless magic! This is what I'm talking about!"

"Have you truly lost your mind?"

He leaned forward conspiratorially. "We want you to help us become Animagi."

She laughed right in his face. "I will, yeah."

"Really?"

Maeve rolled her eyes. "You want to become an Animagi? Is this another one of your ideas for a prank? And why do you need my help?"

"It isn't for a prank," he scoffed. He ran a hand through his dark hair. "It's to help Remus. As an animal, we'd be able to be near him. It would help keep him sane when he transforms."

Maeve remembered reading about the Animagi process. She had also read an article titled Ten Reasons Not to Attempt the Animagi Transfiguration that detailed the enumerable risks the process posed. "You'd have to be out of your mind to even attempt it. Have you any idea what it takes? How long it takes?"

"Trust me, we know. We've been trying since second year."

Somehow, this didn't surprise her. "My answer is absolutely not. Tell your committee they can shove their recommendation up their arse."

He grabbed her gently by the wrist. They were the same height, and it was easy to look him in the eyes. "Maeve, please. You're the only other person who knows the truth about Remus, and I wasn't kidding about watching you in Transfiguration. Even McGonagall talks about you."

She yanked her hand away from his. He never called her by her first name. "Don't flatter me, Black."

Switching tactics, his lips spread into an easy smile. "I always wondered how Remus had a bulk supply of Strengthening Solution," Sirius mused. "Never would have guessed it was you."

"No one knew. Did you ever wonder how Sorcha managed to get me banned from the final Quidditch match of the season?" Maeve spat. "She ratted on me for having illegal potions. She made up an entire story detailing how I was using them to play better on the pitch. She must have seen me with one of the vials for Remus and thought I was keeping it for myself. I wasn't careful," she hissed. Her tone lost its bite. "I learned my lesson. I paid the price, and it could have hurt more than just me. Would you seriously risk everything just for one chance at helping Remus?"

"I would," Sirius said immediately, just as she expected him to. "I didn't know that. About Sorcha. They way she tells the story–" he trailed off.

"I'm sure she made it sound like I deserved it. And maybe I did, or maybe there are just two sides to it."

"I don't think you deserved it."

"You would tell me anything I want to hear right now just to get me to agree to help you."

"At least think about it," Sirius pleaded. "You wanted to help Remus once, didn't you?"

"It's madness. To attempt the potion, let alone the transfiguration–you would be foolish to try it without guidance."

"That's why we need you," he told her earnestly. She had never seen him so convicted. "And maybe you need us, too. We have direct access to your sister. I know about your probation terms; we'd risk the detentions for you, and Sorcha will get what she deserves."

Maeve gave a sardonic laugh. Sorcha had always spoken highly of the boys, for reasons Maeve couldn't fathom. She had always assumed it went both ways. "You wouldn't do that to her."

"You might be surprised."

"And you would be getting the far greater end of the deal," Maeve remarked.

"So you'll do it?" he asked hopefully, looking remarkably like a begging dog.

"I am considering. Only because I have a feeling you'll attempt it again whether I help you or not." Maeve sighed. She thought of something else. "Does Remus know about any of this?"

"Er, no. Moony'd shut this down in an instant if he knew."

"And the legality of this idea? You realize you have to be registered with the Ministry."

"Then we would be unregistered. So long as we never get caught, the Ministry doesn't have to know."

Maeve had never fathomed this level of arrogance. "Any other massive holes in your plan that I should know about?"

He kicked at a can of Madame Glossy's Silver Polish that was on the ground. "It's Swiss cheese," he admitted.

After an awkward amount of silence passed between them, Maeve finally said, "I'll think about it."

"I knew you would," Sirius grinned devilishly. He opened the door to the broom closet with a chivalrous wave of the hand, as if they had just shook hands on a million galleon deal.

All of that Gryffindor courage was going to get him killed.

✤

MAEVE nearly forgot about her conversation with Sirius until Hallowe'en came at the end of the week.

The Great Hall was decked out in all of its glory. Hagrid's pumpkins were floating above each of the tables, glowing from within with flickering candles. There were piles and piles of food; more than there was on a regular evening, and there was a troupe of three enchanted skeletons at the front of the hall playing music.

"I just don't see the appeal," Mimi was saying. She was eating a chicken leg, jabbing it around in the air as she spoke. "A bunch of sweaty teenagers in a dirty abandoned classroom. That sounds like a kind of hell, not a party."

"Speak for yourself," Avanti sniffed. She already had her outfit picked out and laying on her bed up in their room. "I think it's going to be fun."

Maeve's gaze meandered around the hall. The professors were enjoying themselves at the front. Dumbledore was even kicking his feet a bit in time with the music. Everything felt lighter tonight, and her worries were distant and hazy.

That is, until she made the mistake of looking at the Gryffindor table. Sirius was already staring at her. He pointed to his wrist, mimicking the motion of checking a watch, and looked at her pointedly. His meaning was clear, but she wasn't going to gratify it with an answer. Instead, she turned back to her own food and the conversation at the table.

"Do you honestly think the professors don't know about it?" Mimi said, still going on about the party. Sometimes when she got on one of her tangents about the rules, it was difficult to get her talking about anything else.

"I'm sure they do," Maeve told her, grabbing another helping of the caramelized vegetables. "I think they let us get away with it."

"Filch, on the other hand, definitely doesn't know," Avanti continued. "He would have that shut down in a second."

And then, flying through the air like an angel sent to Earth, came a scoop of mashed potatoes. It landed right square in Maeve's pumpkin juice. Everyone who happened to be looking in their direction began to laugh, but not Maeve. The entire front of her robes was now saturated with the orange liquid.

Elara nearly choked on her bite of carrot cake. "Where did that come from?"

Maeve looked up again. Through the gap in the Hufflepuffs, she could see straight through to Sirius and James. They were both shoveling food into their mouths and were careful to keep their gazes down.

Maeve left the table before everyone else so she could take off her still-damp robes and change before heading to the party early, as per Finn's request. The directions to the abandoned classroom had been drilled into her head the day prior at the end of Quidditch practice. She had a response already rehearsed for when she walked into the room and was inevitably disappointed by the display. Last year, the Slytherins had converted one of the dungeon classrooms into a full-fledged graveyard. No one expected much this year.

She gave the four-note knock, and the door swung open to reveal an arch of vining ivy. Beyond it, Maeve could only gape at the utterly transformed classroom. Glowing mushrooms and jack-o-lanterns littered the edges of the room, and the pile of desks had been transfigured into tens of fake trees, making the room look like a mystical forest. Enchanted fog swirled across the stone floor, mingling with the mechanical butterflies that drifted around the room.

"So, what do you think?" Finn asked eagerly, ushering her inside.

"I–wow," Maeve told him.

He folded his arms, pleased. With an elfish grin, he said, "And this isn't even the best part! We have this glittery confetti that we're going to make rain from the ceiling once the party's in full swing. You're gonna love it."

There was a table to her right covered with food and drinks. A cask of butterbeer sat waiting for guests to arrive. It was Butterbeer of the strong variety, brewed with a higher alcohol content than the kind served in the Three Broomsticks. Charlie was arranging the bottles of Firewhisky just-so.

"All we need to set up are the lights," Finn told her. He had a clipboard in his hand and was checking things off one-by-one.

"Since when are you so organized?" Maeve laughed, slightly stunned.

"I have my moments."

By the time Maeve finished levitating the fairy lights to hang from the branches of the trees, people had begun to trickle in. Aoife and her best friend Ana, a fellow Slytherin, were among the first to arrive.

"You're here early," Maeve remarked.

Aoife gestured towards Ana. "That was all her doing. She doesn't believe in the art of being fashionably late."

"Last year's party is embarrassing compared to this," Ana said loudly, lifting a hand to touch one of the trees. "Trees? This is ridiculous," she laughed.

"Finn set it all up."

Aoife wrinkled her perfect nose. "Finn Doyle? I thought you said he was a spanner."

"He is, but he's really gone all out," Maeve admitted.

Ana was still examining the tree. "They transfigured the tables, didn't they? That's fantastic."

Aoife rolled her eyes. "She's easily impressed."

Ana whipped her head of curly brown hair around to face them again. "I'm a sell out, and I'm not afraid to admit it."

Soon, students from all houses had filled the fake enchanted forest. Maeve circulated the room looking everywhere for Elara and Avanti, but before she found them, she almost ran right into James Potter. It was strange to think that a year ago at a party like this, they would have no reason to so much as look at each other. Funny how things change.

"We were looking for you!" James said brightly. He nearly had to yell to be heard over the music.

She crossed her arms. "Come to apologize for the potatoes?"

"Only if you give me an answer," Sirius told her. He was wearing Doc Martens, which instantly reminded her of the time she had asked her ma for a pair of them. The answer had been: over my dead body will you wear those awful shoes.

"You really need to work on your tactics," Maeve told him, grinning.

"I think it's working."

"How?"

"You're smiling now, so that's a step in the right direction."

Maeve immediately pulled her lips into a flat line. "That doesn't mean anything."

"To be fair," James said matter-of-factly, "I misjudged the velocity the potatoes would have when they hit the glass. It was supposed to be more of a friendly reminder to you."

She took a long sip of her Firewhiskey. Her eyes roamed over the crowd, and she finally spotted Elara's head of curly hair. "So, throwing potatoes is friendly?"

"I was just," he shrugged lazily, "havin' the craic, as you say."

Maeve just rolled her eyes. Any further retort was cut off when Peter began to point to the center of the room. A brief hush fell over the packed classroom, which was quickly replaced with awed gasps as Finn's little show began. The fog rose to fill the room from floor to ceiling, and a kind of confetti fell slowly from the ceiling. The confetti substance was somewhere between freshly fallen snow and a thousand glittery stars.

"I can't believe he pulled it off," Maeve murmured.

But then a harsh wind began to whirl. Everyone was still transfixed, but Maeve had a horrible feeling that this wasn't part of Finn's plan. A girl standing near the center of the room was facing the brunt of the gale. Maeve watched with horror as the fog wrapped around the girl and began to lift her slightly off the ground.

"Did you have something to do with this?" Sirius began to laugh.

That was when Maeve realized that the girl, who was now dangling five feet above the floor, was Sorcha.

Maeve abandoned her drink and shoved through the crowd to get to where Finn was standing. "What is going on?" Maeve demanded.

He held out his hands, giving her the same panicked expression he had on the day of Quidditch trials. "I dunno! All I did was release the confetti–"

Sorcha was still laughing slightly, trying to maintain bravado. But then she began to twirl as if rolled in a great gray blanket of smoke. The laughter started and then rose with an echo. The glittery confetti that once fell nicely was now sticking to Sorcha's hair and clothes, making her look like a giant Christmas bauble glimmering at the center of the party. The raucous, firewhiskey-laden laughter wasn't helping.

Maeve turned to Finn. "Can you make it stop?"

He just shook his head of ruddy hair, dumbfounded. "I didn't do it."

Maeve pulled her wand out. It was impossible to tell who had tampered with the decor, or why they would do such a thing. "Finite Incantatem," she muttered, pointing her wand at Sorcha. Maeve made no effort to slow her sister's descent; Sorcha fell onto her rear and elicited another wave of laughter at her expense. And no matter how confused they were, Sorcha clearly had her targets set on who she thought had pulled the prank. She stomped over to where Maeve was standing, shedding glitter with each step.

"You just don't know when to give up, do you?" Sorcha seethed.

"It wasn't me!" Maeve insisted. "Get your head out of your arse."

"Did you really think this would give you a leg up?" Sorcha looked between her and Finn. In a matter of five seconds, Sorcha had completely misjudged the situation. She loosed a sardonic laugh that was nearly terrifying in the echoing silence of the crowd. "Was your whole team in on this?"

At the mention of Quidditch, Kian, Charlie and Estella shoved to the front of the group. James had come to stand next to Sorcha, and so had the captain of the Gryffindor team, Riley Gail. Everyone else at the party cleared the way.

"It wasn't us," Finn repeated, lifting his chin. "You have no proof."

Riley scoffed. "You hosted the party, Doyle. You tell me where my proof is, then?"

"This 'appens every year," Charlie slurred, clearly deep in the Firewhiskey. "Someone always tries to pull off a prank at the Halloween party. You just 'appened to get in tha' way."

It was difficult to take Sorcha's upset expression seriously when glitter still coated her face. "You're going to regret this, Maeve. I was willing to put the last term behind us, but if you want to do this again, I'll do it."

And Maeve should have left it at that. She should have turned around and walked away, let the music begin again and forget the world for the party. The simple truth was Maeve had never been enough for her sister. Never been the best friend Sorcha had dreamed of and wanted. Instead, she was still only Maeve.

"Then I'd watch your back, Sorcha," Maeve told her coldly. "And wipe the glitter off your face, you look ridiculous."

Charlie began to laugh. Sorcha gave her a deadly glare and stalked off and out of the room with Marlene McKinnon hot on her heels. Riley walked away and left James standing by himself.

"Got something to say?" Maeve said, breathing heavily.

He just stared at her from behind the circular lenses of his glasses. Torn between defending his house and maintaining cordial ties with Maeve, he did the smart thing. He turned and walked away without another word.

✤ ✾ ✤

a/n there is so much foreshadowing in this chapter it should be ILLEGAL.

There are so many little plot lines beginning here, and this is where the Big Request and Main Plot finally start!!  There's so much going on (perhaps too much?) and this chapter became very long to accommodate the disaster party.  I hope you guys enjoy drama because this is only the beginning.

Good news (and bad news depending on your personal opinion) -- I have decided this story is going to continue beyond their seventh year at Hogwarts.  I knew I was going to change my mind because I am literally such a sell out for a long winded story, but as I finish up the plot points, I realized it is actually going to make sense to have a whole section covering the war instead of just a chapter/blurb explaining what happens.  ANYWAY! Getting traction with this story is like flying a kite on a windless day so I feel like a goon even talking about long term plans for this 🤪 but I'm excited 

Sirius POV coming next chapter : )))))