Chapter title from "Sara" by Fleetwood Mac

A Hogwarts house elf named Olwen delivered their meal that evening, the silver-domed trays containing a rather disappointing, scaled back version of what Severus was used to enjoying in the Great Hall. It dawned on him that when term started in two days he would be once again enjoying the feasts in the Great Hall, while Miss Aspenfell would largely be forced to dine alone. It would be awfully conspicuous for him to be missing from the staff table every night, but he would have to construct some sort of plan for periodic absences. The girl would go mad eating alone in the dungeons every night, although he was sure she didn't think his company much of an improvement. It was just an all-around unfair and inconvenient arrangement, as Dumbledore's schemes often were.

Rhiannon joined him at exactly the requested time. Snape had already assumed he would have to lecture her about punctuality in order to set the proper expectations for their time together, so he was pleasantly surprised. He took a moment to assess her now that she was here, in his space, instead of in passing at Grimmauld Place. She had clearly freshened up since their unsteady landing on the grassy knoll, securing her hair half up in a braided bun, the rest falling in waves down her back. She had changed into a simple off-the-shoulder dress the same color as her hair, the overall effect a golden aura in the amber lantern light. Within the aura of gold shone orbs of bright green, the biggest clue to her seemingly unique brand of magic. Surrounded by the energy in Hogwarts they shone brightly, almost unnaturally, and Severus was intrigued by the phenomenon. Her lips were stained an faint autumn apple red and curved into a small smile as she nodded her head to him.

Severus returned the nod and assisted with her chair. His keen nose caught a whiff of her perfume and analyzed it immediately: bergamot, citrus, neroli, geranium, lavender, violet, passion fruit, sandalwood, and amber. Now that the girl was here in his space he already found it difficult to maintain the domineering detachment he'd mastered at Grimmauld Place. He would have to try harder.

The girl was ravenous, seeming halfway finished with her meal when he'd barely started. He decided he would catch up on his own food while leaving her answering his questions. He needed to know her background and more about her connection to the Dark Lord.

"Miss Aspenfell, did you have any awareness of your father until you came to England?"

Still chewing, she shook her head. "No. All I was ever told about him was that he was 'gone.' No one would ever say his name or tell me anything about him. I always...well...I always assumed it was Dumbledore. Not that I knew Dumbledore," she added hurriedly. "But I would sometimes hear my mom talk to a man in the fire that I now know was him, and we would receive letters with instructions, sometimes with money, asking questions about my life and my activities. So naturally, I just assumed he was my dad."

"And your mother? She was not a witch?"

"Well...no, not really. Ms. Pearl, the lady who owned our building, my mom's boss, and she helped take care of me— she was a voodoo priestess and shop owner in New Orleans. She and my mom kind of raised me in all that. I grew up thinking that's what magic was, until I went to Ilvermorny."

"It is, it's just not the kind that is formally taught." Severus sat back and crossed his leg over the other, his mind too busy to worry with food. "Many would consider it dark. Do you?"

Rhiannon seemed to consider before answering. "I think all things can be considered both light and dark, depending on one's experience with it. But no, I never felt our magic was dark."

He nodded. "You mentioned Dumbledore sent money. What was your mother's occupation?"

She hesitated. "She worked at Ms. Pearl's shop. They were adherents to the old ways, but in New Orleans, with all the tourists, you can use it to make a living too. And...she was very beautiful, you see, and magical, so the men would come in, and..."

Severus saw her eyes searching his, trying to decide whether he would meet her with judgment or understanding. "She was a sex worker," he supplied for her, his tone neutral.

"Yes. But she wasn't mistreated or anything. She...loved what she did." Rhiannon blushed a few shades deeper and averted his gaze.

Snape didn't speak, a sinking feeling haunting him. The girl probably wouldn't know if her mother was mistreated. Many women hid it well. They weren't always as openly pleading, emotional, and desperate as his own mother had been. Eileen Prince Snape was not a sex worker, but his angry drunk of a father treated her no better than a common gutter whore. He closed his eyes briefly, pushing the memories of the sounds and the emotions back — as far back as they could possibly go. He wasn't about to challenge Rhiannon's own recollection; as a man he had no business correcting her, but he did wonder what darkness lay in her childhood that she might have either forgotten or blocked, as he himself had so many times.

Severus also had a better understanding now of this power she held, and the power her mother must have had in her interactions with the Dark Lord, or he with her. The intersection of sex and magic was forceful indeed, and its interpretation as light or dark could hang on a precipice — a balance of desire, will, and control. Present now too was the understanding of why Sirius Black had been compelled to slip his gold woven band onto Rhiannon's finger after merely weeks together. She very likely tested the strength of weaker-willed men.

"Have you had enough to eat?" Severus asked, feeling a change of subject was in order.

"Yes, thank you."

Severus stood. "You will be demonstrating your ability in defensive spells the remainder of the evening, then your bedtime reading will be advanced Transfiguration texts. I see from the records Dumbledore obtained from your mother that your Potions skills leave something to be desired. We will begin one-on-one Potions instruction in the evenings, in my private brewing room, starting tomorrow. Unfortunately due to my normal teaching schedule, much of our work together will be me assigning and grading, with you studying and working on your own. Our time together will be focused on the aforementioned potion brewing, defensive training, occlumency, and apparition lessons. We will have time on the weekends to review what you've completed on your own during the week, and at that time you may ask questions. The pace will be demanding and you will be expected to keep up. Do you understand?"

Rhiannon had stood also, her arms crossed in front of her, her beautiful head tilted to the side as she took in his lecture. "I understand, Professor Snape, what the plan is for our time together. However I do not understand why you have to speak to me as if I'm a disobedient child. I made it quite clear when we spoke at Grimmauld Place that I would not be flying away. I want to be here— I want to learn from you. So I would appreciate it if you would treat me as your partner on a journey rather than a petulant thorn in your side." She offered a smile to him and stepped closer than he would have expected, resting a hand on his arm. Those green eyes looked up at him with a calculated wantonness, and he bristled.

Yes, she was a tantalizing witch, and she knew it. Her request itself was understandable and respectable at face value, but Snape knew she was trying to even the playing field so she could better use her wiles against him. He was already feeling a stirring that threatened to collapse his mental shields. His mind floated quickly to the thought of exerting his dominance physically — an exquisite moment of fantasy in which he would take her tonight, under his terms, erasing any and all of her plans to use his desire against him. It would be done and over with, no slow burn to drive him wild and distract her from her studies. All he had to do was envelope that delicious waist in his arms and devour that sly, sensuous mouth...

Snape wanted to punish her— for invading his space, for making her give more of his time, for giving him any inkling of want for her, and especially for allowing that mangy dog Black to have her first.

Angry, he drew his wand and put space between them. "Take out your wand," he commanded.

Rhiannon opened her mouth like she was going to protest, but she must have thought better of it because she quickly obeyed, seeming a bit nervous of what he might do. The thought of the vixen with Sirius Black now firmly planted in his mind, he sent a stinging hex in her direction before he could stop himself.

"Ugh!" she cried, grabbing her bare arm, her eyes blazing. She shot back immediately with her own, which landed just north of his navel, stopped a bit by the thick fabric of his suit.

"Defensive spells, Miss Aspenfell. Pay attention to the assignment."

"You didn't give me time to prepare!"

"Do you think your father and his minions give you time to prepare?" Snape snarled back. He sent another hex in her direction, which she deflected this time.

"I don't know Professor Snape, but I suppose you do since you're one of them!" Her wand fired a bolt at him and a oozing substance emitted from his nose in copious amounts, building up so quickly he nearly choked.

"Fuck," he muttered, casting a weakening hex on her before a quick counter spell on his own nose. He could tell she did not like the way the weakening felt— he saw her fire rise, pent up in her petite frame, then be forced out like a balloon slowly leaking air.

"We are stopping," he told her before she could fight back. "What did you learn?"

"That you're an ass? I already knew that though."

Snape tried to be angry at that reply but couldn't. He actually gave a small laugh. "You are entirely correct. I am. And I am not here to make this easy on you in any way. If I do, then I fail you, and I fail the Order. What you should have learned is to listen when I give you direction and to always be prepared. You are far too quick on the offense and too late on the defense. A shield is often more effective than a sword. You will eventually tire many opponents with a defensive approach. Some, like your father and his Inner Circle, will require a more deliberate offensive approach, but not random wand outbursts produced out of sudden anger. You must be calculating."

He was aware of the hypocrisy of his statement. The whole charade just now had started with his sudden rage over imagining her with Black. How many times over the course of the summer had she shagged that spoiled, reckless man-child, who waxed poetic about chivalry and honor, while constantly giving his middle finger to the rules and taunting his enemies, taking joy in their pain?

Snape thought back to the end of term last year, just after the Dark Lord returned. Dumbledore had ordered Black to re-form the Order, reaching out to allies but also to make amends with Snape so they could work together for the protection of Potter. Of course Black came to him armed with platitudes, to let bygones be bygones, but the conversation had devolved immediately into their usual declarations of mutual disdain. Wands were drawn, and the meeting ended much like his exchange with Rhiannon just now— a duel with no real intent to harm but plenty of emotion. Only with Black it was fueled by years of hatred that now seemed destined to continue.

As Severus started to calm down he became aware of a nagging tickle in his brain. He whipped his head up in shock at the girl staring solemnly at him.

"Sixteen, I think." Rhiannon said quietly.

He stared at her in disbelief.

"You wanted to know how many times. I think sixteen, based on the number of vials. I can count them— they are in one of my packed bags in my room. I sent them back to clean for you, in case you..."

"You will NEVER do that again." The intensity behind his command was so severe that he didn't even shout, instead sending it like daggers through the air between them. He was in one moment so shocked and so pained that she would use legilimency on him that his actual voice came as more of a croak.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, rushing to sit next to him on the sofa. He pushed her away violently.

"It's just something I do," she continued. "Most people don't notice, or if they do they think it's just a coincidence or a cliche, you know, 'you must have been reading my mind' or something like that. It just happens sometimes when I want to understand and I can't." She sat down on one of the leather chairs instead, her hands in her lap, her eyes sad and scared.

Snape felt sick as he wondered how much she had seen. It didn't take a skilled Legilimens to know he hated Sirius Black, but he was furious that she might have seen him picturing the couple together or picked up on any level of jealousy or desire. No one ever, ever invaded his thoughts, except Dumbledore, and even he only got faded, modified versions of the truth. Snape's Occlumency skills were unparalleled, even against the Dark Lord. But with Voldemort he knew to expect it, and he knew to prepare and segment what he wanted the wizard to see. Snape had no idea the girl shared her father's skill, but he should have. Gods, she had turned him into an idiot.

"Rhiannon, I am going to bed," he told her, not even realizing it was the first time he'd uttered her first name aloud. He pulled a Transfiguration text off the bookshelf and set it beside her on the chair. "Two chapters, tonight."

She nodded. He could see her tears forming and he swallowed the apology that wanted to spring out of his mouth. He couldn't afford to be weakened by her any more tonight.

"You must control it," he instead reprimanded, firmly but gently. Even he was surprised at the softness in his tone, given how angry she had made him. "That is dark magic; to invade someone's mind without their consent is to rob them of their most fundamental freedom, and to use what you find there to manipulate them is even more reprehensible."

"I won't manip—..."

Severus held up his hand. "This discussion is over. We will never mention this instance tonight again. Good night, Miss Aspenfell."

Textbook in hand, Rhiannon stalked quickly to her room and shut the door. When she had arrived to Hogwarts earlier this evening she had imagined falling happily into this beautiful bed, maybe missing Sirius, but overall excited for what the next few weeks would bring. But now she was just humiliated, angry, and exhausted. She barely recognized the woman of a few minutes ago. Sending a pus-squirting hex toward a teacher? Admitting to wielding her mind-reading power, and using it to call out someone for their hidden sexual thoughts?

She hadn't meant it the way it happened. At the time she had just desperately wanted Severus to know that she knew, so he would drop the act. She felt that the sooner they both laid their cards out on the table, the easier all this would be. He hated her fiancé, for reasons that ran much deeper than her. That much was clear. But he was also fixated on her sexually in some way, just as she has been with him since that very first night at Grimmauld Place.

Rhiannon felt a warmth flow through her, and she allowed herself to ride the thought wave for a blissful moment. Severus had pictured her and Sirius together on the floor, Sirius thrusting behind her with his hands on her breasts while she moaned and reached back to grasp his hair. She saw the image as Snape had, then she became herself within the image, feeling the sensations, then in the next instant Sirius became Severus. The anger she'd felt in Severus's mind fell away and was replaced by her own desire for him, finally being fed as that silky voice groaned in her ear and he plowed into her, hard.

God, she needed him. What would he do if she burst through his door right now, dropped her dress on the floor and bent over for him, just as he had imagined her?

He would hex you and send you hurling into the stone wall as punishment.

Rhiannon remembered Sirius again and immediately felt guilty. She wanted him too right now. If he were to walk though the dungeon door she would kiss him so hard, hold him so tightly, drink him in, so she would be never have to feel this alone again. How was it possible to be so completely infatuated with two wizards at once? Two wizards who hated each other, who were as different as night and day.

Slipping beneath the covers, her dress indeed in a puddle in the floor, she dove back into the image again. This time she let it drift where it wanted to go. Sirius...Severus...back again. She didn't care. She worked herself to the edge and let out a cry, not caring if Snape heard her in the other room. She imagined him doing the same, and she wondered how many times he had done it since they met. How many nights would they continue doing it, just like this, both wanting each other, both frustrated, both too scared or stubborn, or a combination of the two, to actually come together?

It is how it needs to be. You are engaged to one of the most strong and noble wizards that ever lived. Sirius makes you laugh and feel safe, and empowered. All you have with Snape is lust— everything else is maddening and confusing and literally makes you cry.

It made sense. Rhiannon just needed to keep repeating it to herself over and over until her mind talked sense into her body.

Two Transfiguration chapters. She welcomed the distraction and the detachment it required. As complicated and advanced as the material was, it was far simpler than anything she had felt tonight. She made sure it was throughly committed to memory, positive she would be tested mercilessly the next day.