Maggie muttered curses under her breath as her book bag strap dug into her shoulder blade. Who made kid’s books so massive these days? She would have charmed the bag to be feather light like she’d done during her years at Hogwarts, but she didn’t think the Ministry would appreciate that display of magic in front of muggles. She glared at a group of teens crossing her on the sidewalk and to her surprise, most of them glared right back. When had muggles gotten so cheeky? Oh right, that was just teenagers in general. Maggie reflected that she needed to stop sounding like such a curmudgeon.

When Maggie reached the park she let out a relieved sigh. Now, she just had to find a certain short, rambunctious girl and most importantly, set down her bag before her arm splinched itself. Margaret supposed a few children’s books, a notebook, pens and pencils, and her mother’s large school binder added up. She hoped she had enough materials and would be able to help Mairead with her reading. A part of her wondered why in the world she was doing this and she couldn’t seem to settle on an answer. Her mum was a teacher and good with kids, while Maggie scared them off. Her mum had patience. Maggie had a pushy kind of persistence. If all went well this afternoon, Mairead would return to the Grimlishes with dry eyes and a noggin full of Dr. Seuss. If it went poorly… Maggie’s eyebrows drew together. She hoped for both their sakes that it wouldn’t go poorly.

It’ll be good for you! Her mother had snickered over the phone after telling Maggie that she should try tutoring Mairead because Mai already knew her and felt comfortable with her. Margaret wasn’t entirely sure she made anyone feel very comfortable, but at least she and Mairead were on a first name basis.

There she was! She waved at the small form sitting on a bench and hustled over to throw her bag down with a thud.

“Merlin,” she sighed, rubbing at her shoulder and sitting next to Mairead. “Hey, have you been waiting here long?” Maggie frowned. She’d thought she was early.

It was a beautiful summer day, though. On the far side of the lawn a few kids kicked a soccer ball. A mother with a stroller passed them by, comically shielding her baby whenever the ball bounced an inch in their direction. Maggie had assumed Mairead might enjoy being outside, even though it might be distracting. She looked at the young girl and remembered to smile.

“So, how much do you know?” Maggie started bluntly. “Do you recognize any letters by looking at posters or street signs, things like that?” She paused, trying to imagine what it was like to go out and not be able to read. Perhaps it was like being in a foreign country. Maggie had certainly been lost in translation before on her travels. However, at least she knew English and could always relate words and symbols to what she already knew, where as Mairead had to start from scratch.

“And has Ophelia tutored you yet?” Margaret asked warily, hoping that the professor had taught her a little bit before this meeting. Did Mairead know how to spell her name? Would she recognize it on parchment? Many other questions popped into her head, but she managed to restrain herself after realizing that Mai might feel overwhelmed. Maggie looked at her expectantly, eyes curious.

Like a pair of hyperactive, playful magpies on a telephone wire, Mairead's legs twitched and bounced impatiently under her.  Her feet ached to be dropped down on the ground and let loose to race across the yard to join in with the soccer game.  Or to clamber up any number of the tall trees that surrounded the edge of the park.  One particularly tempting tree had a curious sphere of grey hanging from an upper branch just begging to be inspected for swarms of angry stinging insects. 

While it didn't sound like great, it had to be more exciting than learning to read. 

Some small corner of Mairead's mind was pleased that Maggie had offered to help her learn to read and write.  The mature and reasonable side of her brain that was easily over powered by the rest of it.  With the exception of the unfortunate last few minutes of their first meeting, Mairead had found Maggie an amusing but curious woman to be around.  She was laid back but just punchy enough to not be boring.  She was older but didn't seem ... well ... adult-like in the same way that Mairead's parents did.  Or Opie.  Almost like what she imagined having a big sister was like.  Interesting but boring but frustrating but familiar.  If one were to try to make sense of it.

She'd much rather be off doing something big sisterly with the young woman - whatever that was.  She doubted big sister activities were the same as the things she and Tito snuck off to do.  But, as the summer weeks continued to truck on, the prospects of starting school were getting more and more daunting.  And, the fear of walking into her first class and being asked to read something from a book was growing greater. 

It was that fear, alone, that had kept Mairead sitting on the bench when she reached her toes down to kick at the dust underneath it. 

She glanced up at the sound of the now familiar voice.  "It felt like hours," Mairead muttered, shrugging her shoulders.  It had only been five minutes at most, though.  Time seemed to slow down when one was watching other people having fun.

It was a beautiful summer day, though. On the far side of the lawn a few kids kicked a soccer ball. A mother with a stroller passed them by, comically shielding her baby whenever the ball bounced an inch in their direction. Maggie had assumed Mairead might enjoy being outside, even though it might be distracting. She looked at the young girl and remembered to smile.

"I can get from Dublin to Belfast and I can start a fire in two minutes.  I know loads of Irish history.  And, I speak three languages," Mairead felt compelled to point out.  If they were going to start delving into all the things that Mairead couldn't do or was lacking in, she might as well start by pointing out she wasn't useless.  She'd survived eleven wonderful, free years without being able to read a word.  But, of course, starting a fire wasn't going to help her much in school. Especially when all these people could just start a fire with a flick of their wrist. 

Mairead shrugged, looking out across the field.  "Yeah, she's been tutoring me.  It's hard, though."  It was even harder to pay attention.  "I have learned me letters.  And, I can sound out small words if someone's read them out already.  But, I can't write them.  And, they get confusing sometimes."

To Maggie’s surprise, Mairead listed skills that weren’t exactly related to reading. "I can get from Dublin to Belfast and I can start a fire in two minutes.  I know loads of Irish history….”

Maggie’s mouth quirked up in amusement.

“And, I speak three languages."

“Three languages!?” Maggie repeated, gaping at her. She ticked them off one by one in her head… English, obviously, and Gaelic, and… Maggie frowned, wondering what the third one was. She’d already thought that Mairead seemed like a bright girl, but the fact that she’d picked up three languages proved it. Maggie let out a breath. Mairead should be just fine. She was getting a late start, of course, but she was still young and her mind was sharp. Maggie started to feel a little better about this tutoring session and leaned against the back of the bench, watching the girl’s feet swing energetically.

Mairead seemed entranced by the soccer game across the field, causing Maggie to throw an annoyed look in their general direction. She hoped the kids would find someplace else to go, soon, because if they didn’t, she wasn’t sure that Mai would be able to concentrate.

However, she glanced at Mairead quickly as the girl told her that Opie had been helping her learn her letters and sound out words. That was a good start, and Maggie wouldn’t have to worry too much about a few things.

Margaret snorted as she opened her backpack and rifled through it. “No doubt it’s confusing and hard. It’s a lot to learn in a short amount of time. And most kids have years to build up their vocabulary and reading level.”

She shrugged and gave her a wry smile. “But you, you’ll be fine. You’ve learned a lot already and we still have a few months of summer left. Plus, you can speak three, count ‘em, three languages,” Maggie chuckled and shook her head. “That’ll make the Ravenclaw kids jealous for sure.”

Pulling out one of her favorite kid’s books, she rested it on her lap and thought for a moment about how they could go about this. Maggie looked at Mairead, whose eyes strayed towards a nice climbing tree, and decided she needed something fun.

“The Cat in the Hat is an old muggle book. Maybe you’ve heard of it?” Maggie wondered, opening the book to the first page. “I’ll read it out loud once, so you know the story. Then we can start going through it together.” Later in the day, perhaps Maggie could help her with her writing. She wasn’t sure how much they would get done, or how long Mairead could pay attention. Likely, she’d need a break at some point. Maggie suspected from the way that Mai fidgeted, it wouldn’t be long!

After clearing her throat, Maggie began reading, feeling a little silly and self conscious, though she tried to ignore it. The first illustration showed a bright red house and two children staring out of the window, watching the rain.

“The sun did not shine. It was too wet to play. So we sat in the house, all that cold, cold, wet day…”

If someone bothered to ask (which no one had, yet), Mairead would have to admit that she didn't yet see the appeal of studying.  It was hard and it took up an immense amount of time - after all, kids spent most of their day in school!  Mairead's life had always been busy enough without school - she had yet to figure out how other kids fit it into their schedules. 

This whole school experiment was going to take an unprecedented amount of focus and impulse control.   

"Yeah," Mairead confirmed, shrugging absentmindedly, though a pleased grin flickered across her face.  She was relieved to find that something in the list of seemingly meager skills had impressed the older woman.  She was proud of that accomplishment, especially for the sense of culture it brought.  "I didn't really start speaking English until I was ... six, I think.  That's what me mum said.  I learned Gaeilge and Shelta first - it's what Pavees speak." 

With a deep, resigned sigh, Mairead tore her attention away from the soccer field.  She pivoted on the bench to face Maggie as the young woman went shuffling through her backpack.  The game would be much easier to resist if Mairead wasn't, actively, looking at it. 

"And, sounds are different in English," Mairead commented.  That was, in some ways, proving to make things more complicated.  She was quickly discovering that not all sounds and letters were found in gaeilge and some pairs of letters sounded different in one language than another. 

So, in other words, Mairead was years behind the other students.  And, it was unlikely, she'd catch up in a few months.  "I was told that they tell ye everything they teach ye, too.  Right?  I learn quickly when people tell me things - like at the bonfire when people were telling stories.  They do that during classes, right?"  That was going to be her saving grace - she'd grown up in an oral tradition and could probably survive on it alone.  If she had to.

"The Ravenclaws are the smart ones, right?"  She grinned slightly.  It'd be nice to have the smart ones jealous of something.  Even if the jealousy would be short-lived. 

Looking down at the book in Maggie's hands, a broad grin stretched across her face.  "Yeah!  I heard of that!  Me and Tito snuck into ... I meant saw it in the theater when that came out.  It was pretty funny.  It had that guy in it who plays that silly fake British spy.  We snuck into that one, too, though really weren't supposed to.  It's kind of ... ye know ... crude" she whispered her mother's assessment of it. 

Of course, this all begged the question: why would someone read something when they could just watch it.  But, it didn't look like Maggie had packed a miniature theater in her backpack so Mairead turned her attention to the book.  She looked at the page as the older woman read, trying to follow and identify the words as she did.  On occasion, she recognized a random "A" or "I" but, all too quickly, the letters seemed to blur back together. 

When the woman had, finally, read the last page, Mairead looked from the book to Maggie.  "So, I'm supposed to read it now?" she asked, dubiously.  "I'm gonna sound stupid." 

Maggie nodded, listening as Mairead listed the languages she could speak. To her happy surprise, the girl wrested her attention away from the soccer game and turned to face her on the bench. Though Mairead sighed, Maggie herself made so many annoyed sounds that it didn’t even faze her.

"I was told that they tell ye everything they teach ye, too.  Right?  I learn quickly when people tell me things - like at the bonfire when people were telling stories.  They do that during classes, right?"

“Yeah, many of the classes are lecture based. A lot of blah, blah, blah-“ Maggie stopped short, wondering if she was giving the wrong impression. “Anyway, professors like to hear themselves talk, you know. But writing things down and hearing it will help all that information marinate up here,” she tapped her temple. “Promise.”

Margaret wasn’t too surprised that Mairead learned best by listening, as she’d grown up with it. Most people were naturally better at one learning style than another, but since Mai hadn’t ever had a chance to learn visually and take in words on a page, they couldn’t yet know how easily she’d take to it.

When Maggie started reading the story to Mairead, she thought she sounded a bit monotone at first and wondered how fun the movie version might have been in comparison to her storytelling. However, she quickly got over it and tried to put some animation in her normally low and sarcastic voice. The end of the story came very quick for Maggie, though she suspected that Mairead would have preferred it to be shorter. The movement of her swinging legs was starting to shake the bench!

"So, I'm supposed to read it now?" she asked, dubiously.  "I'm gonna sound stupid."

“No you won’t,” Maggie told her in a matter-of-fact voice, then paused. “Even if you do sound stupid, I’ll sound stupid with you. It’ll be a joint effort,” she teased, flipping back to the first page while trying to remember something her mother had suggested. They didn’t have to get through the whole book today, that was for sure. It was best to start simple. Maggie nudged the open book closer to Mairead so she could see it better.

“Now, this part is going to seem repetitive, but in the long run, I think it’ll make reading easier. So, I’m going to read these first four lines to you twice, then we’ll read it together twice, and then you’ll read it by yourself… guess how many times? Yeah, twice.”

Margaret started at the beginning of the story and ended with the line ‘How I wish we had something to do'. After repeating the small paragraph aloud, she looked at Mairead and pointed at the first word.

“Ready? The… sun… did… not… shine…” Her finger underlined the words as they went along, while Maggie kept peeking at Mai to see how she was doing.

---

OOC Note/Excerpt:

Though the reading was bound to come much slower, Mairead was at least learning something quite quickly.  It was remarkable how fascinating some things became when one was trying to concentrate on something else.  Who would have ever thought that Mairead would find the patterns of an ant's twitching antenna interesting or the way the grain in the wood planks of the bench resembled rippling waves fascinating. 

And, it wasn't out of an attempt to ignore Maggie and Mairead did, in between watching two ants say hi to each other, worry that Mairead was doing just that.  She wasn't - really, she wasn't.  But, her mind was so used to wandering and letting her attention fall on any whimsical thought it desired that forcing it to focus on the pages of this book wasn't easy.  It was also slightly humiliating. 

But, she was trying and she was grateful that Maggie was willing to put up with her ever wandering mind.  Even when, as half way through the book as Mairead prodded the two ants to race side by side along the back of the bench to a glorious though slow victory, it didn't seem like she did. 

"Why can't ye just use magic and open up me head and shove this stuff in it?" Mairead griped, turning away from the ants.  Aoife and John as she'd named them about the time that the cat was falling on his head.

She glared at the book when Maggie had finished, as if the book, itself, was the cause of Mairead's grief.  "What if I don't get it well enough by the end of the summer?"  Mairead asked even as she shifted closer to the book so it'd be easier for both of them to read it.  She had no concerns about following the lecture - if she could just convince herself to pay attention for ... how long were classes?  But, how was she supposed to take notes so quickly? 

Mairead wasn't convinced.  She still thought she'd looked stupid.  It was only the fact that she'd only look as stupid as Maggie just had that allowed her to follow Maggie's recommendations.  However stupid a kid looked while doing something, adults always looked several times more stupid at it. 

Motivated some by the fear that she was going to have to do the same thing, Mairead kept her attention focused firmly on the page as Maggie read.  She only spared two quick glances towards Aoife - John had crawled out of sight somewhere - before turning back to the page. 

When it was her turn, Mairead tried to read along.  Slowly, brokenly and almost inaudibly under her breath.  It was very easy to remember the story - it was quite lyrical.  Not unlike a song.  A medium Mairead was quite familiar with.  She wasn't sure if she was actually, technically, reading it but by the time they'd worked through it the forth time, Mairead had the four lines pretty well memorized. 

"The sun did not shine, too wet to play.  We sat in the house on that cold, wet day.  We sat there with Sally, sat there we do.  I said, how I wish we'd something to do.  There was a subtle though recognizable tune to the words as she repeated them, the tune her mind had set the rhythm of the song to in her head.

Maggie ignored Mairead’s complaint about why she couldn’t learn how to read through magic, and tried her best to ignore the ant race she kept poking. Maggie did, however, address her concern that she wouldn’t do well enough by the end of the summer.

“Well, you’ll still get tutored during the school year, won’t you? You’ll learn as much as you can now and then continue to get extra help. Professor Grimlish will be there,” Maggie tried to sound reassuring. “And, if all else fails, you can always write to me,” she sighed dramatically, as if that would be horrible, but then grinned to show she was just teasing. “Just for practice, you know. I’m not going to go over your letters with an Auto-Correct quill. That would just be mean.”

When they started reading together, Maggie wished Mairead would speak up, and kept pausing to hear her whispers. The two of them reading together sounded like a conversation where both people talked over each other without listening to what the other person had to say. That painful bit was soon over, and Mairead had to read alone. Maggie felt nervous for the girl, but also hopeful. She wanted her mum’s advice to work and for Mairead to do well in the fall.

"The sun did not shine, too wet to play.  We sat in the house on that cold, wet day.  We sat there with Sally, sat there we do.  I said, how I wish we'd something to do.”

Maggie interrupted her a few times to point out some words Mairead had missed, but mostly she just let her read and make mistakes. She felt sure that some of the reading came from memorization, and that was okay. The important thing was that she saw the words and connected them with what came out of her mouth.

“Good!” Maggie said when Mairead had finished, a hint of excitement (and surprise) in her voice. “Not perfect, but we’ll keep going over it. Later,” she added, not wanting to torture the girl and herself.

“All right,” she closed the book and bent to put it back in her bag. “Don’t look so happy,” Maggie said without even looking at the girl. “The cat will make his return next week. But for now, we can do a little bit of writing,” she announced, fishing out a notebook that she imagined Mairead was already glaring at. “And after that, we can watch the ants race,” Maggie glanced at her with a smirk. “…Or something more interesting.”

Because Maggie thought Mairead had mentioned that she couldn’t write whole words yet, they would stick with something simple. She flipped through the set of worksheets and picked the ones that Mai might like, and then handed her a pencil. Maggie had first learned to write with a pencil and believed it would be easier to handle than a quill.

“You should appreciate this one, ‘cause it has to do with bugs,” Maggie showed her the page. “At the top here, it says ‘Bug’, see? The four pictures below show different pictures of bugs. First one is a white bug. W-H-I-T-E,” she spelled out the word and did the same thing for the next three pictures. “Here, at the bottom of the page, it starts the sentence for you and then you trace the word, or words, at the end. Number one says ‘The bug is white’ So, white,” Maggie wrote down the first answer for her, pointing at each letter as she went along.

Glancing at her to see if she understood, Maggie went on. “Number two says ‘The bug…’ By looking at the second picture, what do you think those last two words say?”

The second picture showed a smiling black ant. Maggie waited for her to reply, intending to have Mairead trace the letters next.



OOC Note: Found the exercise from this site! It’s the Beginning Writing Practice, Set 1 - trace (bug).

More tutoring on top of all her classes?  Mairead hadn't really considered it but now that Maggie mentioned it, it made sense.  Unfortunately.  "Probably," Mairead conceded, blowing a puff of air at her hair.  "Yes, she'll be there.  I ... I can write to you?"  Mairead asked, watching Maggie dubiously when the young woman sighed before grinning broadly.  "Like a - what do they call it - pen friend or something?  That'd be fun."  Labor-intensive and long.  But, fun. 

"Why don't they just go out and play in the ran?"  Mairead asked, when they'd finished the small section of text.  "There's plenty to do when it's raining." 

While the few lines they'd worked through had yet to illuminate Mairead as to why people like that Adley boy found reading so exciting, it hadn't gone too bad.  Mairead was certain she could recognize a few of the words, at least.  And, she didn't feel as humiliated as she thought she would.  In fact, she even felt a little proud of herself and the pride grew some as Maggie complimented her. 

But, she was relieved to find that they weren't going to lingering on these kids that couldn't entertain themselves on account of a little rain.  "We haven't even see the cat, yet," Mairead said as Maggie tucked the book in order to move on to writing.  At least it'd be followed by something more exciting. 

"Bugs?"  Mairead grinned at Maggie before drawing the notebook towards her.  She took hold of the pencil and leaned over the page.  "Bug," she repeated, looking at the three large, fat letters Maggie pointed at.  "So, the paper under the bug is white," Mairead said, but set to tracing the letters.  The first letter seemed, by far, the hardest and was a little more lopsided then the shading underneath it but the rest of the word looked pretty good. 

"The bug is b-l-a-c-k" Mairead said, slowly, aloud as she traced the word black, initially forgetting to trace the word "is." "Wait," she said, tracing over the word "is."  "The - the bug is l- low," Mairead sounded out, slowly, having readily picked up on the pattern until the last word.  "The bug is ha - hig - the bug is ..." Mairead traced the word but stumbled, verbally, over the "g" and looked up at Maggie. 

“Pen-pal,” Maggie supplied, hiding another smile. It was nice to know Mairead liked her enough to write to her. Though, she also had an ulterior motive. This way she’d have someone at Hogwarts to keep an eye on Lexie and make sure she didn’t do anything too obnoxious.

Mairead asked her why the kids didn’t go out and play in the rain, and Maggie snickered. “Because it’s a story. If they went out, the Cat in the Hat wouldn’t have a reason to come inside and mess up their house. Right? Annnd,” she added, nudging her on the arm. “Some kids just aren’t that smart.”

She could definitely imagine Mairead puddle-bonching, or slinging mud with the neighborhood ragamuffins. Maggie had been more inclined to grumble and moan about the rain when she’d been a first-year, rather than go outside and play in it. Not surprisingly, she was still the same way!

Like Mai and her perpetually bouncing feet, Maggie started to become antsy, but managed to keep her mouth shut as Mairead slowly read the words and traced the letters on the paper. When she looked up in confusion, Maggie spelled out the word with her.

“The bug is high. H-i-g-h. When you say the word out loud you can’t hear the ‘g’ or‘h’, but they’re still there.”

Maggie waited for her to finish tracing the last sentence on the worksheet. When she was done, they went over a few more worksheets, like one focusing on cats and another on hats. It was appropriate, she thought, considering she’d just read the Cat in the Hat book to her.

Soon, they got to the point where they were both a bit tired of tracing letters and sounding out words. When Mairead had just finished writing ‘the hat is little’, Maggie collected the worksheets into a haphazard pile and stuffed them back in her bag.

“I don’t know about you, but I need a break,” she told her, smirking. “You’re doing great so far, though,” Maggie added, surprised that this first lesson had gone as well as it had!
 

Pen-pal.  Maggie would be her pen-pal.  Mairead could write to her about things like - well, right now, Mairead could write to her about colored bugs.  But, even as Mairead's pencil scratched across the handful of new words, she couldn't help but briefly envision that this whole thing was doable.  Time-consuming and frustratingly difficult but not impossible. 

"That's be ... neat,"  Mairead admitted, grinning slightly.  "I can tell ye what Ailill thinks of school, too."  She had never really given it much thought before but it'd be nice to know that she'd be able to talk to - well, write to - someone about school.  She would be, of course, trying to write her family but, even if Oisin was willing to read her letters to her parents and Tito, it seemed like it'd be harder to explain to them about this stuff.  They were muggles and had never been to school.  Writing them about school would be like a mountain goat writing a dolphin to tell them what walking on a glacier was like.

But, wanting to appear cool, Mairead rolled her eyes when Maggie nudged her, making it clear she didn't buy the excuse.  Somehow, she found it difficult to believe this Cat in the Hat couldn't go mess up their house on his own.  But, Maggie clearly was right about something - these kids clearly weren't that smart. 

"The bug is high," Mairead repeated as she traced over the words again.  Without much contestation, Mairead turned to the pages that followed.  Tracing the letters was, in some ways, more entertaining and rewarding.  It seemed less passive - more engaging.  Perhaps, because, at the end of the page, there was something to show for the work.  Despite herself and her attempts to appear cool, Mairead couldn't help grinning slightly at the compliment.  But, that didn't change the fact that Mairead was more than happy to jump at the opportunity for a break. 

"Definitely!"  Eager to leave Aoife the Ant to her own devices, Mairead shoved her things back in her bag.  Plopping the bag in her lap, Mairead looked at Maggie expectantly.  What did the woman do for fun?  Obviously, chasing puffskeins around public streets wasn't high on her list.  They'd also determined that playing in the mud wasn't a favorite past time.  "What do-" Mairead glanced around before leaning forward to whistle, "people like us do for fun?"

Maggie was a little shocked. The tutoring session was over. There had been no tears, no wailing, and a minimal amount of whining. How could this be?! Was she losing her touch as the Grim Groust?

However, she had to admit that it was nice when the kid smiled at her. Mairead was making progress. The future first-year was a little jumpy, a little antsy, and bound to be a bit of a handful, but the professors weren’t getting paid to sit on their bums, after all. Plus, if the staff or any snotty firsties gave Mairead a hard time, Maggie was prepared to… Well, she’d figure out the specifics later.

“People like us, huh?” She teased, standing up and stretching. “Oh, you know, the usual. Cackling evilly over cauldrons, cursing the local cattle, and flying around on broomsticks at night- oh wait, that last one is true,” she smirked, slinging her bag over her shoulder and picking a path to walk on.

“Sometimes there are ice-cream stands set up along this road. Come on,” she said, leading the way. As she walked a thought struck her. “Have I told you about Quidditch? The sport where people try to knock each other off their brooms?- I mean, capture the snitch and gain points and all that? Because I’m sure you’d love it. There are these things called bludgers, you see, and I had a lot of fun hitting them whenever I played with friends. My aim was awful, but it’s a really good way to get out aggression and distract the other team, if nothing else…”

Maggie went on, telling Mairead about the other equipment used and the basics of the game. Mairead would be a natural on a broom, she could tell!


The End!