The rest of the day passed in a blur as Freddie felt the effects of the Invigoration Draught beginning to wear off. When she found herself nodding off over dinner, her hand falling into her potatoes, she told her friends she was going to bed.

She sat on the edge of the bed for a moment and checked the notes McGonagall had given her. She had her mandrake leaf waiting on her bedside table already. She folded it carefully as many time as she could, then tucked it between her lip and upper molars, per McGonagall's instructions. It wasn't too uncomfortable and she felt certain she shouldn't accidentally swallow it in her sleep.

She thought that, as exhausted as she was, she would fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. This, however, was not the case. She lay there, the curtains drawn around her bed, holding Hemlock in her arms. Every now and again she absently poked the mandrake leaf with her tongue. She listened to the sounds of her housemates coming to bed and she felt irritated. Exhausted and irritated. Hours passed and she tossed and turned, growing increasingly frustrated.

What is wrong with me? She thought, punching her pillow, then she let out a hollow chuckle. She knew exactly what was wrong with her. I'm hung up on a boy. A man. But still...Daniel would laugh if he could see me now. He'd take the mickey out of me for sure.

She smiled at Hemlock, thinking back to something that had happened in her fourth year.

She and Daniel were marching back towards the castle leaving the Quidditch pitch and a fifth year Slytherin boy named Draven Finn who was on the ground, clutching his face as huge warts erupted over his face.

"What'd you do that for?" Daniel asked her, sounding amused.

"I didn't do it on purpose," she said sourly. She'd lost control of her magic again. She hadn't even had her wand – they'd been flying, having a friendly Quidditch match with a handful of students, when Finn had gotten on her nerves.

"I know that," Daniel said. "But still – it was bloody brilliant. Think he'll rat on you?"

"Nah. He knows better," she said menacingly, glancing back over her shoulder.

"So what did he do? To piss you off?"

"He...he won't stop asking me out," she said, her face growing warm.

Daniel stopped short, howling with laughter, doubled over. She rounded back and knocked him in the head, just hard enough to make him yelp.

"What was that for?" he demanded, rubbing the back of his head.

"Don't laugh at me, Daniel Byrd. I don't want to go out with Finn – I don't want to go out with anyone."

"Why not? That's what girls do at our age, ya know? They date," he said practically. "Honestly a bit of snogging might help you take the edge off."

She shot him a disgusted look.

"What and end up like that?" she said, jerking her thumb at a crying Hufflepuff girl near the lake. They'd passed her on their way down to the pitch earlier and she'd been crying then too, surrounded by friends who crooned how she was 'better off without him' and 'boys are jerks'.

"It's amazing she has anything left in her to cry, she's been there for hours," Daniel observed.

"Yep. So no, no sir, you will not catch me all wrapped up in some boy. I have my career to think about."

"Your career? You're just a kid!"

"I've only got three years left to learn everything I can from Professor Snape, everything I can about Potions. I eat, sleep, and breathe Potions," she said, twirling dramatically, her arms outstretched. "Now you on the other hand..."

"What about me?"

"Seems you're the one who needs a bit of snogging."

"Wh- shut up!" he said, his ears turning scarlet.

"Maybe you could go cheer her up," she said, indicating the crying girl again. "Course if you start dating a Hufflepuff, I'm not sure we could be friends anymore."

"Shut it, Fred," he said, smacking her shoulder. "Let's go start on our Transfiguration homework before dinner."

Freddie smiled ruefully at the memory and rolled over in bed for the millionth time. She checked her watch. It was already after midnight.

She considered going down to Snape's office to ask for a Sleeping Draught. The thought of going down to his office, this late at night, knocking on his door and rousing him from his bed, made her smile. But she knew it wasn't a good idea.

That is definitely not a good idea, said Snape's voice in her head. She bolted upright so fast she nearly swallowed her mandrake leaf.

You're in my head! she thought, surprised, but pleasantly so. You are in my head, aren't you? I'm not dreaming? Or hallucinating?

I am here, little girl.

Why? Not that I'm complaining, she responded, settling back down on her pillow.

I cannot sleep.

Me either.

I know.

I miss you. She felt silly and embarrassed to admit it but she didn't feel any judgment or derision from his mind.

I know, said his voice in her head.

She closed her eyes as her mind was flooded with images of him in his room, his bed in disarray, the sheets twisted around him. The green glow that lit his quarters was the same glow from the lake that bordered her bed. It was a mirror image of her own position in her bed, other than her arms wrapped around the stuffed kneazle.

I've slept alone most of my life...then I let you into my bed and now, after just a few weeks... he thought, and even his voice in her head sounded tired.

I can't sleep without you. They had the same thought at the same time, and Freddie smiled sadly.

Do you know what I would do if I were there? He asked.

I can think of a few things... she responded, smirking.

Close your eyes.

She did as told and the image that appeared in her mind was as if she hadn't closed her eyes at all. She could see the curtains around her bed, then saw Snape slip around the curtains and approach her bed. He touched her leg, running his hand along her exposed thigh. She could really feel his touch, the warmth of his skin on hers.

Startled, she opened her eyes, but she was alone.

Keep your eyes shut, he commanded. You'll ruin it.

Yes sir, she said, immediately closing her eyes.

Then he was there again, pulling the blanket away from her body. He slid into bed next to her, pulling the blanket over them. Their clothes vanished and he wrapped his arms around her, throwing his leg over both of hers. He pulled her tight against him and she could feel the warmth of his body, even feel the rise and fall of his chest against her back.

How are you doing this? She wondered. It feels so real.

I am a man of many talents, Winifred, he responded, his breath tickling her ear. It does not matter 'how'. Just relax. His hand swept across the swell of her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple lightly, before coming to rest around her, just beneath her breasts. He seemed content just to hold her and she was grateful. She was exhausted and so was he, from what she could feel from their connected minds. Sleep, my Winifred. Sleep and rest.

She murmured her assent. The last thing she felt was a soft kiss pressed beneath her ear as she drifted off, her mind still connected with his.