𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐖𝐎

" sevens "

✤ ✾ ✤

. . . JUNE, 1976

THE GREAT HALL had been utterly transformed. It looked larger than normal, as if the joints of the castle had stretched to accommodate the widely-spaced tables that now lined the room. At each seat sat a small note card with a different name. The one that read Maeve A. Byrne was placed squarely at the front of the room. Seat assignments seemed to be randomized with the intention of decreasing cheating risks.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts written exam wasn't one Maeve was particularly nervous for. Everyone knew that it was an essential N.E.W.T course for those interested in becoming Aurors, which Maeve had no interest in. She had done well in the practical, likely because her Patronus was nearly opaque when she had summoned it.

Once everyone was seated and Flitwick had started the massive clock that ticked on the wall behind him, parchment appeared in front of each of them. The first question began with: Give five signs that identify the werewolf. Somewhere to her left, there was a snort-like cough unmistakably belonging to Remus Lupin.

Maeve set to work, scribbling furiously about curses and countercurses. Every so often, someone would shuffle a paper or cough or sneeze, but beyond that, quiet. Sunshine streamed through the tall windows and being outside after this would be the sweetest reward. Laying in a patch of grass, staring up into a cloudless sky, the cold water of the lake–

Flitwick's voice made her jump. "Five more minutes!"

Maeve still had three questions left. Her hand was cramping and she cursed as the end of her quill snapped off. Hurriedly, she grabbed up her spare and easily wrote the answer to explain the process of casting the Patronus charm.

"Quills down, please!" squeaked Professor Flitwick. "That means you too, Stebbins! Please remain seated while I collect your parchment. Accio!"

Maeve leaned back with shock as her parchment and everyone else's levitated into the air and flew forwards into Professor Flitwick's outstretched arms. The sheer force of nearly fifty pieces of parchment knocked him backwards and straight off his feet. While the laughter began, Maeve and Eloise Larrabee leapt out of their seats and helped him back up.

"Accumulare," Maeve commanded, staring at the papers with force. At first, nothing happened. "Accumulare," she said again. This time, they all scrambled together and into a neat pile.

"Thank you Miss Larrabee, Miss Byrne, " Flitwick said. He dropped his voice and said, "Excellent work, Miss Byrne. Wandless charm work is an admirable skill. I hope you'll remember that during your examination!" Once he had collected himself, he bellowed, "Very well, everybody, you're free to go!"

All at once, everyone rose and the excited chatter began. Maeve grabbed her exam question paper and swung her bag up and onto her shoulder. Elara, Mimi, and Avanti were waiting for her by the door.

"I think it was rather easy," Mimi was saying.

"Easy?" Elara scoffed. Her curly blonde hair was intermittently woven with tiny braids; a nervous habit. "There were so many specific things, I didn't think we needed to memorize all of the details of the Boggart."

"I just think it was unnecessarily long," Avanti said. "They should have just let us take the practical and call it a day."

"So," Mimi said, digging around in her bag. "What have we got next? I think we can get some studying in–"

"Please no," Avanti cut her off.

"Don't be ridiculous, we still have Charms tomorrow and Potions and Transfiguration next week. And the Herbology practical!"

"You can pot a plant," Maeve assured her. "It'll be fine."

"Not a plant that screams!" Mimi protested.

Avanti narrowed her eyes. "We're going outside to the lake," she announced.

"The lake?" Lily Evans parroted, making her way over with her friend Mary in tow. "That sounds lovely right now. It's so humid in here, I'm nearly sweating."

Maeve glanced at Avanti, trying to gauge her reaction. "I think–"

"–you should come with us," Avanti said to Lily and Mary.

Maeve shared a glance with Elara. Is she being serious? Elara just yawned and shrugged.

In a large, boisterous cluster the six of them hurried from the Great Hall to reach the outside air. Most of the fifth years had a similar idea, but there were some that were heading in the direction of the library. Mimi looked almost envious as she watched them pass by.

The lake water was freezing upon first touch. Maeve kicked off her shoes and stockings and stepped all the way in, breathing sharply as an icy chill passed over her. Birds sang in the trees. Birds. The thought that she could join them was sickening, thrilling.

Avanti took off her robes and spread them out like a blanket, laying down on the grass near the cattails. Mimi sat next to her, shoes off and feet in the water, Charms book opened in her lap. Elara and Mary, who had Divination together, were discussing Hydromancy and tossing pebbles into the water. Each time, they would count the ripples as they rolled out from the splash.

"Do you believe in any of that?" Lily asked, bending down to touch the water with her fingertips. They had gotten as far out as they dared, just past their knees. Maeve had already rolled her skirt thrice.

"Water Scrying? No, not really," Maeve said. Hopefully the merpeople weren't listening or they might come up and drag her under. "Tea leaves and crystal balls, maybe. But it's all really just a vehicle for observation. I think a true Seer could see the future in a mud puddle. They only need something that allows them to focus."

"Interesting," Lily murmured as a pleasant breeze picked up. "And do you think Elara is a Seer?"

"I think she might be," Maeve told Lily honestly. "But you don't believe it, do you?"

Lily gave a small shrug. "I suppose–I think it's fascinating. But more in the way that I find children's stories wonderful. I want to buy into it, but I've always found logic and reason more comforting."

Maeve raised a dripping hand from the water, flicking a spray of droplets toward Lily. "How very Ravenclaw of you."

Lily laughed. "Well, is it so unreasonable? Divination is all just a suggestion, isn't it?"

"Maybe," Maeve admitted, glancing over her shoulder at Elara, who was now intently gazing at a pebble balanced in her hand, her expression grave. "But I think Elara does see things. Or at least she feels them. She always seems to know when something's going to happen."

"That's just good intuition. Fate and prophecies–I think those are a load of rubbish."

Maeve shifted her weight to feel the water stir around her legs, the coolness becoming more bearable now.

"Ugh, would you look at those boys," Lily muttered, wadding over to where Maeve stood. She looked like a disgruntled water nymph, hands on her hips and long red hair floating gently in the breeze.

Beneath the shade of the beech tree, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter lazed about. James was playing with a struggling Snitch, letting it get almost out of reach and catching it again. Peter watched with delight. The other two seemed to be in deep discussion; Remus looked disgruntled, Sirius amused.

"James nicked that Snitch from the practice set," Maeve muttered. "Finn opened up the box on the pitch a few weeks ago and it was missing."

Suddenly, Elara called out to them. "Maeve! Come look at this one!"

They waded closer, splashing through the water, until they were standing beside her. Elara held up a smooth black stone, still wet and gleaming. "Exactly seven ripples."

Maeve could tell Lily was fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

"And that means?" Maeve asked.

Mary looked up, her eyes a startlingly pale blue. "Seven means change is ahead. Big change."

At this, Lily did roll her eyes. "Everything is changing, all the time!" she hollered.

Elara just laughed. "This is something different." She clutched the stone as if it held a secret. Her eyes held a strange intensity. "I feel it. Something's coming."

They all fell silent, even Lily. The peaceful sounds of the lake won out and Maeve could hear frogs chirping. A sudden splash startled them, breaking the spell—Avanti, laughing in the shallows, had kicked a wave of water up to drench Mimi's legs. Mimi shrieked and dropped her Charms book, barely catching it before it hit the lake. The laughter spread, and soon they were all splashing each other, shrieking and stumbling, water droplets flying through the air like glints of shattered sunlight.

Distantly, Maeve was aware of a loud bark of laughter unmistakably belonging to Sirius. When she turned to face the beech tree, her jaw dropped with horror. Severus Snape, who must have come upon the boys when Maeve wasn't looking, was sprawled out on the ground. His eyes were blown wide with anger and fear. James and Sirius both had their wands raised.

"Absolutely not," Lily hissed. Water rose around her in splashing waves as she ran out of the lake. "They cannot keep getting away with this–!"

"Should someone go with her?" Elara whispered. Water dribbled from her golden curls, making small pattering noises. Maeve wondered how many ripples it was making, how many lines of fate could be measured in it.

Maeve followed behind Lily's path of anger, grass and dirt sticking to her wet feet. There was a small crowd of younger students gathered in a half circle behind Sirius and James. Severus struggled on the ground, bound by the invisible ropes of the spell.

"You–wait," Severus panted, staring up at James with an expression of purest loathing. "You–wait–"

"Wait for what?" Sirius said coolly. His voice held such contempt that it could have frozen over the lake. "What're you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?"

Snape swore heavily and tried for a hex. But his wand had been knocked a meter away, so his words did nothing.

"Wash out your mouth," said James. "Scourgify!"

Pink, soapy bubbles filled Snape's gaping mouth. He gagged. The crowd laughed heartily, including Peter. Remus was miraculously still at the base of the tree, reading his book as if nothing was happening.

Lily stepped forward. "Leave him alone!"

James's free hand jumped to his hair, suddenly self conscious. "All right, Evans?"

"Leave him alone," Lily repeated. "What's he done to you?"

"Well, it's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean."

"You think you're funny," she said icily. "But you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him alone."

"I will if you go out with me, Evans," said James quickly. "Go on. Go out with me, and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again."

Maeve could scarcely believe it. After that night in Astronomy, James seemed to have committed to change. He had become more empathetic, more willing to listen. But in a singular instant, Maeve realized that perhaps he hadn't changed at all.

"I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid," said Lily.

"Bad luck, Prongs," said Sirius briskly, turning back to Snape. "Oi!"

While Lily and James argued the Impedimenta spell had worn off. Standing now and spitting the remains of soapsuds, Snape directed his wand straight at James. In a flash of light, a gash appeared on the side of James's face, spattering the white collar of his shirt with startlingly red blood. Lily gasped and stumbled back. Maeve caught her by the arm before she could trip.

"You'll regret that," James seethed. He whirled around and raised his wand. In an instant, Snape was hanging upside down in the air. His robes fell over his head to reveal skinny legs and a pair of greying underpants.

Sirius, James, and Peter all roared with laughter. Maeve glared at Sirius, and his face fell as if noticing her there for the first time.

Lily was furious. But still, her face twitched as if she too were trying not to laugh. She was clearly tired of the constant defense of Severus. "Let him down!"

"Certainly." James obliged and jerked his wand upward.

Snape fell into an angry heap on the grass. He struggled away from the knot in his robes and stood, about to raise his wand. But Sirius was quicker.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Snape tipped over once again, rigid as a board.

"Leave him alone!" Lily shouted again. She had her own wand out now.

James, to his credit, looked slightly wary. "Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you," said James earnestly.

Maeve raised her wand. "I wouldn't try it. Take the curse off of him, James."

James sighed deeply, then turned to Snape and muttered the countercurse. "There you go," he said, as Snape struggled to his feet again, "you're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus–"

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

Maeve's blood reached a fever pitch. She had heard that word uttered in corridors and whispered in classrooms, but she had never heard it said with such callous, flippant disdain.

Lily just blinked, seeming to awake after a long sleep. Color rose in her freckled cheeks. "Fine, I won't bother in future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus."

"Apologize to Evans!" James roared at Snape. What little remained of the crowd of younger students scattered. Remus finally stood and snapped his book shut.

"I don't want you to make him apologize!" Lily shouted, rounding on James. "You're as bad as he is."

"What?" yelped James. "I'd never call you a–you-know-what!"

But Lily wasn't finished. All of them were staring at her now. "Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can–I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me sick."

She turned on her bare feet and stalked back over to the water's edge.

"Evans!" James shouted after her, "Hey, Evans!"

But she didn't look back. She grabbed up her bag and shoes and Mary tripped after her. Mimi was still in the shallows, and Avanti and Elara were staring at Lily with wide eyes as she left with Mary in tow. Severus straightened and moved to run after Lily.

"Let her go," Maeve said, stepping in front of Severus to block his path. The last thing Lily needed now was for Snape to follow.

"Get out of my way," he seethed. He reached out angrily and gripped her shoulder, trying to shove her aside.

Sirius pulled out his wand with a terrifying look on his face. "Don't touch her, Severus."

At this, Severus paused. His thin lips curled into a sneer and his diplomatic coldness returned. "You're just as bad, you know," he said to Maeve. "Nosing around in business that isn't yours. Useless as a Muggle."

Once, when Maeve was only seven and still in primary school, a boy had shoved her off of the swingset. She had hit the dirt hard and scraped both her knees. When she got up again, the first thing she did was run up and kick the boy as hard as she could in his shins. It was silly, in hindsight. Physical violence was rarely the answer and all it did was cause more trouble.

But even knowing that did not stop her now. Maeve wound up and sent her fist sailing right into Severus's hooked nose.

"Maeve!" Mimi shrieked, nearly tripping over her own legs as she ran out of the water.

Maeve's now-stinging hand flew to her mouth. Remus, who had been uninvolved thus far, snorted sharply to cover a laugh. Severus himself staggered to his feet and, after shooting one last glare at them, lifted a hand to stop the slow trickle of blood and finally walked away.

James roared with unburdened laughter. "Nice going, Maeve!"

She rounded on him. "There's another one waiting for you! What were you thinking, picking on him like that? Have you not learned your lesson already?"

James deflated. He looked at her, and then to Remus. "I know."

Maeve felt sick. "Now Severus is going to go do who knows what. And I was this close to not having a detention this term, you arse!"

James pressed a hand to his chest. "I didn't tell you to punch him in the nose. But if I had known that was an option, I certainly would have."

"Not helping," Sirius reminded him, eyes dancing with laughter. He kept looking at Maeve with open wonder, as if she was the most interesting thing he had ever laid eyes on.

By then, Elara, Mimi, and Avanti had picked their way across the grass to get to them. Lily was now a distant blotch of red hair near the castle entrance.

"Nice going, Maevey," Avanti told her, grinning. "That bloke was always in for one of those."

"See? I'm not the only one–" James began.

"Enough!" Maeve and Remus said at the same time. Though, Maeve's protest was far sharper than Remus's. Maeve looked around at all of them. She felt like a show pony on parade for the way they all stared. Grabbing Avanti by the arm, she said, "We're going inside."

"C'mon, Maeve," Sirius protested. "You don't have to run off."

"Don't worry," she shouted over her shoulder. "I'm certain I'll be seeing you in detention!"

"Detention?" Mimi repeated as they walked back up the hill. Her short legs had a difficult time keeping up with Maeve's long strides. "How are you going to prepare for exams?"

"That's your concern right now?" Avanti snorted.

"Maybe Flitwick will be merciful and let you revise during detention," Elara said helpfully.

"He'll likely make me clean his office again. It's probably a right mess with me having no detentions all term," Maeve groused. "I had that place sparkling last year."

Elara glanced behind them as though still half-expecting Snape to reappear. "This is going to have repercussions, Maeve. Severus won't take it lightly."

"I'm not afraid of him," Maeve told her, squaring her shoulders. She looked down at her slightly-pink knuckles. "And I don't regret what I did."

✤

MAEVE did begin to slightly regret what she had done when it came time to serve her detention on Saturday.

Flitwick had a long talk with her in his office the day prior. It had started off with a standard admonishing, a lengthy lecture about how she had nearly gone the full term with good behavior. This would be going on her record. Her parents would be informed. Violence against another student was not tolerated at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Even if it was deserved?" Maeve dared to say.

Flitwick raised a bushy brow behind his spectacles. He set down his quill, cleared his throat. "I did hear what Mr. Snape said to Miss Evans, and I do agree that it was completely despicable. However, I must impress upon you that violence is rarely the answer, Miss Byrne."

So Maeve had sunk back into her chair and accepted that there wasn't going to be any way out of this.

Because of the O.W.Ls, special exceptions had been made to allow for their continued revising. Their detentions would take place late Saturday night after examinations were done until next week. Remus and Peter had escaped punishment, leaving Sirius, James, Severus, and Maeve as the four who would be spending the evening doing end-of-term cleaning tasks. They had been split into pairs based on the level of their involvement. James and Severus would be helping Slughorn, who had requested a full reorganization of the shelves in Potions. Sirius and Maeve had been tasked with cleaning out the Charms classroom for Flitwick.

Maeve made her way down from her dormitory fifteen minutes before seven. It was nearly torture to leave the comforting embrace of their room, where music was softly playing and Avanti was hosting a spa night in an attempt to reduce her infinite amount of beauty products before the term ended.

The Ravenclaw common room was almost empty. Even the chess set near the window had gotten bored and was playing against itself. Will was there near the fire, but he hadn't looked up, and Maeve had resolved not to say anything unless–

"Maeve! I've been looking everywhere for you."

Maeve paused and begged her heart to stop pounding as she turned. Will sat alone in one of the high-backed chairs, a book spread in his lap. Warm firelight danced across his face and he wore a thin jumper. He looked enviably at ease.

"Were you now?" she said.

"I've barely seen you since Quidditch ended. I'd ask if you wanted to sit, but it looks like you have somewhere to be."

"Detention," Maeve clarified with a forced smile.

Will laughed good-naturedly. "Did you purposely wait until Quidditch season was over to start getting into trouble again?"

"As it stands, yes," Maeve said, reluctantly backing up towards the door.

He looked at the clock. "What's the punishment?"

"Cleaning out Charms for Flitwick."

"Can't be too bad, yeah? I'll probably still be out here when you get back. I even have some chocolate frogs that I might be persuaded to share," he smiled. "Give you something to look forward to."

"Deal," she grinned, turning and stepping through the door before she could think too much. The door groaned closed behind her and still smiling like mad, she made her way towards the stairs.

"Don't tell me you're excited to clean out a classroom."

Maeve gasped and whipped around. She shouldn't have been surprised. "Sirius, what the hell are you doing?"

"I happened to be in the area and I thought I would walk with you."

Her brow rose. "What business did you have up here?"

"I was investigating routes." He regarded her with a side eye. "I wouldn't worry about it."

"How reassuring."

It was strange. She was, for the first time, considering her words carefully around him. As if one moment of letting her guard down would allow the truth to fall from her lips and she would tell him she was an animagi. He would never trust her again. But did that matter, anyway?

Yes, she thought. It does.

When Sirius and Maeve entered the Charms classroom, Maeve's heart sank. She had hoped that Flitwick would give them something easy to do, like a quick sweep of the floors and a wipe down of the tables. Instead, the cabinets on the far side of the room were all opened, a clear sign that they were meant to be doing some organizing.

In a dusty silence, Sirius sorted through a tall stack of books while Maeve meticulously organized rows of enchanted feathers on a shelf, frowning in concentration. Minutes–hours, she had no idea–ticked by. Sirius muttered something under his breath and she heard the shuffling of cardboard in the direction of Flitwick's desk.

"What are you doing?" Maeve asked without looking up from her task.

There was a thunk of a box being put on top of the desk. "Looks like our dear professor has a taste for the classics." When she finally glanced up, Sirius was already rifling through the box of dusty vinyl records. "I think this is all Sinatra."

Maeve shot him an unimpressed look. "Put it back, Sirius."

"Put it back, Sirius," he parroted back in a high-pitched voice. He opened up more of the cabinet doors and rummaged around until he found what he was looking for. A dusty old gramophone. "Here we are," he said with satisfaction.

"Do you have some kind of addiction to gettin' in trouble?"

"I've asked myself the same question about you. And I'm only enhancing our work environment," Sirius said, smirking. He set the gramophone down on the desk, wound it up, and placed a record on the turntable. Moments later, a jaunty trumpet line crackled to life, filling the room with the warm notes of Frank Sinatra.

Maeve tried not to smile and continued to organize Charms supplies, shoving things into bins and pulling assorted charmed objects out of the dusty corners. Sirius was hefting boxes across the room, hardly making a sound.

He wasn't paying much mind to her, giving her full reign to stare. There was no laughter or mischief left—just a quiet concentration that settled over him like a veil. Sirius was cavalier about anything he touched, but she knew it was bothering him that he would soon return home. When she thought of Grimmauld Place now, all she remembered was the cold. Drafty hallways, dark rooms, shades of black and deepest green.

Maeve remembered now Elara's words, the omen spoken over the lake. I feel it. Something's coming. If Maeve were a seer, if she had a say over any of it, she would give it all to Sirius like a gift. A bright glowing seven of miraculous change.

✤

THE SCARLET steam engine rolled through the Scottish countryside, huffing it's way on towards London.

Avanti had long since fallen asleep against the window. Maeve stared out at the green fields, the vibrant blue sky. Everything was so bright with life it almost seemed like a kind of violence.

"I went back and looked and the answer to that question on the Potions written was wormwood," Mimi was saying, still clutching her piece of parchment. They hadn't been able to pry it out of her hands since the last exam two days ago. She had even brought it with her to the end-of-term feast.

"Mimi," Maeve began.

She looked up with desperation. "Yes?"

"We'll still think of you the same if you don't get an Outstanding for all of your O.W.Ls. Even if you get an Acceptable."

"Aren't you worried about your results?"

"'Course," Maeve admitted. She was, incidentally, terrified for when they would come at the end of June. "But it's over and done. Nothing can change it."

She sighed and scratched at her arm. "I know. But you have Trinity and Avanti has her botany research and Elara has the Department of Mysteries. And I have a gaping black hole in the space where my future should be."

"It's only because you have so many options that you feel paralyzed by them," Elara told her. "The Seven of Cups."

Mimi squinted, racking her brain. "Overwhelming amount of choices?"

"Yes," Elara smiled like a proud mother. "It's a gift."

"Or a curse," Mimi muttered, frowning again.

They still had two long years ahead of them but Aoife had been saying for months that the last two were gone in a blink. After O.W.Ls were over, she claimed, it was like going down a hill on a high-speed roller coaster.

The landscape of London assembled on the horizon until the city buildings rushed in and covered them on all sides. Already Maeve could smell the acrid air. She stood too soon and toppled into Elara as the train shuddered to a stop at King's Cross. Outside the windows were hundreds of families waiting for the doors to open.

Soon, too soon, Maeve was standing alone with her guitar case, her trunk, and Oat in his cage. The owl looked at her strangely, as if he didn't recognize her. "Quit it," she whispered, but the uncomfortable itch had returned. Her heartbeat doubled in her chest.

Maeve spotted Sorcha first and they walked towards each other. It was Maeve's least favorite part of their dance, the part where they got along for the liminal time period that belonged to the train station.

Sorcha nudged her arm. "There's Aunt Josey," she murmured, nodding to where their aunt stood beside Aoife, who was holding Serafina tightly in her arms. The white cat gazed imperiously over the crowd, her tail flicking.

At the same time, they said, "I hate that cat."

Sorcha and Maeve both stared at each other. A white flag had risen between them somewhere between the hospital wing and the Quidditch pitch. Part of Maeve wanted to burn it. Part of her, the part that felt like a betrayal, wanted to rejoice and fall into the comfort that was another stalemate. Another chance that Sorcha would look at her with something other than disdain.

Their dad waved them over and they dragged all of their things over. Maeve's gaze remained fixed on Aoife, who looked impossibly grown up with her new trousers and jacket. She had only just stepped off the train and she already looked like an Auror.

Aunt Josey was talking about work at the Ministry and Maeve began to look around the train platform. She instantly hated herself for doing it. The feeling of desperation as she realized Sirius was already gone. She would be going home to the bountiful meal at her grandparent's house on the tree farm that they always had the night they returned from school. Sirius would be going home to–what? A disgruntled house elf, a cold room.

"Maeve." Aoife was staring at her, watching her in the way only an older sister could. "Are you alright?"

Maeve nodded once. Aoife's auburn brow rose; she hardly believed her.

"We should be going," Aoife said to the group as a whole. She had always hated prolonged goodbyes and preferred to get the hard business out of the way. One by one she hugged them, saving Maeve for last.

Maeve let her chin rest on Aoife's shoulder. It was a bit of a reach; she had been taller than Aoife since she was twelve. But she stayed there just the same, feeling all at once small and whole in her older sister's embrace.

"I can't say goodbye to you," Maeve whispered, squeezing her eyes shut tight.

Aoife scoffed, but even her voice was coming out choked. "I'm only in London. It isn't far."

"There's going to be an entire ocean between us."

"I'll write to you all the time."

"You know you won't," Maeve said as she let her go. "You'll be too busy at the Ministry."

Aoife swiped at her eyes before even a speck of mascara had a chance to run. "And even when I don't, I'll be thinking of you everyday."

"C'mon then, girls," their ma said to Sorcha and Maeve. She wiped at her nose as she always did when she was trying not to cry. "We need to get to the portkey before its too crowded."

The train hissed with a deep exhale. Another term, over.

And as the steam cleared, Aoife Byrne was already fading out of view.

✤

SIRIUS BLACK stared out the window of his bedroom. Up above the maze of patios and brick chimneys the sky was beginning to fill with distant stars. He remembered the first time he had learned their names. His father had quizzed him relentlessly, reminding him that he and Regulus were named for them. As if an earthly body could be held to the same esteem as something burning light years away.

Walburga Black had barely let him say his goodbyes at Kings Cross. She had gripped tightly to his shoulder and ushered him out of the station before he could cause too much of a scene. Regulus had gone willingly. Dinner had been a cold, sterile affair. Regulus had filled the silence with stories of his time at school. Sirius was only addressed once by his father.

"I hope your O.W.L results will be satisfactory."

Sirius set down his silver fork with a clatter. Everything was too shiny, freshly polished by Kreacher that morning. "Well we won't know until the end of the month, will we?"

His mother's shrill voice followed. "If you're interested in taking that tone, you may go to your room."

"I was just saying–"

"Go."

It was fine by him. He had enough snacks stashed to last him into July. He would be able to sneak out more easily as a dog. The summer would be over before he knew it. This will be over soon.

Voices rose downstairs. Sirius's entire body tensed and though he didn't want to, he listened. His mother and father were fighting again, arguing about the state of things and, as always, the matter of their eldest son.

He blinked. He stared out the window. He thought of the entire ocean. Waves of cold blue water, and on the other side of it, a green island.

Sirius pulled out a piece of parchment and began to write.

✤ ✾ ✤

a/n the sheer amount of occurrences in this chapter is insanity and for that I am sorry!  But because of the way the next chapter is set up, it was either going to be two oddly short chapters or one oddly long one.

The Second Snape Incident has obviously been changed a slight bit from the canon section that Snape recalls in the books.  I stand by the fact that he was, as we all are, biased in his memory of and was more at fault than he admitted to himself.  I AM NOT condoning bullying or excusing the marauders (they were shitheads, if I haven't made that clear) but as always, nuance!  And what is more nuance than a fist to the nose? I know I'm such a sell out for pulling the 'don't touch her' card but I've always wanted to write that line 😮‍💨

The end of fifth year at long last! The next chapter as prev. stated will follow Maeve's summer in the form of all of the letters she is sent and recieves!  It's such a fun one to write and it allows me to include a direct account of her summer without digressing too much from the main story. I hope you guys enjoy it!!!!!!!!!