"Aren't you supposed to be in class, young man?" the portrait of an elderly woman boomed at Oliver.  He started in surprise.

"Er... yeah, I'm just running late," he lied over his shoulder.  "Sorry."

She snorted and smoothed her skirt, mumbling something about "those bloody kids".  He paid her no mind and took a left, catching up to the adjacent staircase right before it moved again.  For a moment, the fear of toppling off the bottom step came to him.  It was a long way down - the fall would surely kill him.  He grabbed either support and hoisted himself forward, shooting up the stairs two at a time, wanting to dismount as quickly as possible.  When he reached the landing, he was on the seventh floor.  Mai was ahead of him still, so he started after her once again.

What had his friend so perturbed to make her run out of Defense Against the Dark Arts?    

What did she want?  What did she need?  The first handful of times that Mairead paced in front of the stretch of wall that concealed the wondrous room of requirement, Mairead's mind had been so frazzled it couldn't settle on anything.  She wanted this whole school thing to be easier.  She didn't want to go back and hear the mirthless laughs of the other students in the class she'd just scampered out of.  She didn't want to have to sit there while the stern man behind the desk stared at her disapprovingly as she floundered in explaining why she hadn't read the assigned chapter.  As much as she loved adventure and excitement and - as much as wanted to figure out and learn all this magic stuff and be the first in her family to go to and succeed in school - a small part of her wanted to be home.  Where her mother could smile and praise her for how well she'd prepped the chicken or she could see the frustrated scowl on Tito's face after she'd beat him in a race.  Or, where, at least she could do something right. 

But, that sequence of desperate, mismatched needs did nothing to the solid stretch of wall.  With a frustrated huff, Mairead forced her mind to settle and strode three times in front of the wall.  I want someplace homey to be alone with me dog.  I want someplace homey to be alone with me dog.  I want someplace homey to be alone with me dog.  Soundlessly, a door materialized in the wall and Mairead tugged it open and slipped inside. 

The restless and cabin-fever infected lurcher came bounding up to her, her long, wiry tail waving excitedly.  Somehow (she'd yet to figure out how), the room had managed to figure out and replicate what "homey" meant for Mairead.   A small pot-bellied cast iron stove sat crackling in the far corner of the room and a well-worn rug delineated the edges of the fourteen by eight foot room.  A few warn, tattered pillows were strewn across the floor and two tattered arm chairs filled the space.  Unaware that anyone had slipped in before the door had closed, Mairead plopped herself down on the pillow and Eithne lowered herself down on the ground next to the girl.

Mairead was pacing back and forth in front of one of the walls on the seventh floor, when out of nowhere, a door seemed to appear out of thin air.  Oliver preformed a sharp double-take; how had she...

Of course!  The Room of Requirement.  He’d heard rumors, but he’d assumed that they weren’t true.  Mairead must have been in dire need of it - why else would the door have appeared?  He kept close to the wall, pressing his person against it.  She opened the door and slipped inside.  Without so much as giving it a second thought, he followed her inside. 

It was as if he’d taken a step back in time.  The room had fashioned itself into a rustic, yet warm space - which in turn was quite small, though Mairead probably hadn’t known that somebody else would be joining her there.  It reminded Oliver of the interior of a log cabin, with agrarian-styled furniture.  Despite its obvious simpleness, he found it to be quite inviting - even though his fellow Gryffindor hadn’t taken it upon herself to invite him, which he couldn’t blame her for; he assumed she needed to be alone.

What was he doing here?  It was mightily rude to impose upon Mairead like this, even if his curiosity had gotten the better of him.  He scolded himself under his breath.

“I’m sorry,” he broke the silence, “I don’t know what I was thinking...”

Eithne noticed Oliver's presence in the room before Mairead had.  The long-legged wirey dog pushed herself to her feet and lumbered lazily over to the boy, reaching her head out, the grey dog gave the boy a few curious sniffs before turning back towards Mairead. 

When the dog had first pushed herself to her feet, Mairead had cast a quick glance towards Oliver but had quickly turned back towards the fire.  Why hadn't he listened?  Why did he follow?  It was nothing against Oliver, directly, but part of Mairead wanted to be alone.  Staring at the fire, Mairead half hoped that Oliver would return to class.  She'd already gotten Keegan kicked out of herbology - the last thing she needed was for Oliver to get in trouble on her account as well. 

But, Mairead didn't find herself alone.  Sniffing slightly, Mairead tried to, subtly, brush her cheeks dry when Oliver spoke.  "I don't want ye to get in trouble for not going to class," Mairead said, tugging the neckline of her shirt up just enough to cover her face with it and rub her eyes on the inside of the fabric.  Slowly, she reemerged from the shirt and glanced towards Oliver.  "Why didn't ye go back to class?"  She asked.

“Hey, girl,” Oliver crowed, scratching behind Eithne’s ear.  He smiled, remembering his own dog.  Jack did just about the same thing to those who were unfamiliar to him.  His father’s brother - Oliver’s Uncle John - was probably the only person in his extended family whom Jack was familiar with.  He visited the Ainsworth household from time to time, and when he did, the retriever would come bounding up to him, golden tail waving with excitement.

Was Mairead... crying? he wondered to himself.  Had Eirene said something to upset her?  Their eventful first day of Herbology was still fresh in his mind.  Had one of the other students said something? Done something, even? 

Concerned, Oliver gave Eithne one last pat before he sat down beside Mai.  She had just pulled the neckline of her shirt over her face, and when she lowered it, his suspicions were confirmed.  She had been crying.

“Mai, what happened?” he inquired softly, hoping that his question didn’t perturb her further.