A/N: Ok, it took a long time but it's here. Let me know what you think...

Thanks to everyone for your reviews! I'm not offended at all by people asking about updates, I know the feeling of wanting something updated haha.. Anyway, I'm sorry to keep you all waiting. Also to readers leaving really sweet reviews telling me not to worry, thank you!

Chapter 39: Falling

In Róisín's bedroom on the third floor at the end of the hall, Snape let go of her and stepped away.

"Would you prefer if I left or stayed?"

Róisín took a second longer than normal to process his question, her brain still a little fuzzy. "You could stay?"

"Yes."

Her heartbeat sped up. "The night?"

His eyes narrowed. "Not the night, I meant to suggest-" he gave an infinitesimal nod towards the bed, "-I could help you with your magic."

Róisín's cheeks went pink. "Yeah sorry, that's what I meant." Of course he'd never actually sleep with her, it wasn't like they were a real couple. "May I go shower?"

Snape glanced at the door and back at her, his brows furrowed a little.

"I was duelling," she added.

He sighed. "Of course."

She grabbed her towel and pyjamas. Wondering if Snape had been worried she'd run into someone on her way to the bathroom, she glanced up and down the corridor before she slipped out. Fifteen minutes later she returned in her pyjamas, fresh from the shower and feeling a lot more sober and nervous.

Her professor was standing at the window, framed by the dark London street and the park opposite, its large trees mushrooming like grey clouds into the sky. He looked over at her and Róisín let out a breathless little,

"Hi."

The way his eyes searched hers made her chest clench.

"Why didn't you tell Lupin?" he asked.

"Sorry?"

"Why didn't you tell Lupin you were losing control of your magic?" he repeated, his voice even.

Róisín shrugged. "I thought it wasn't that bad and that the potion was helping."

"So it wasn't because you were embarrassed?"

Róisín looked down at her bare feet. "No."

Snape sighed. "There's no safe way for you to contact me directly when I'm not at Headquarters. You have to tell him next time. "

"Ok."

He leant against the window and gestured for her to sit on the bed. "How do you feel now?"

"Great," Róisín answered eagerly and then corrected, "I mean, I'm fine, sir."

He folded his arms as he looked down at her. "Repeat the alphabet backwards."

"Sorry?"

"The Latin alphabet, backwards."

Róisín scrunched her brow and looked away, confused. "Ehm… Z…X, I mean Y, then X," she sang in her head and added after a long pause, "T.. I mean U."

"Ok, still too intoxicated to consent," Snape muttered, pushing off the window ledge.

Róisín jumped to her feet and her professor stilled, raising his eyebrows at her. "Entirely sober I wouldn't be able to say it backwards," she stated. "Who knows it backwards?"

His eyes locked onto hers as he rapidly and evenly began to recite backwards from Z. Róisín cut him off saying, "-But I feel so much better, sir, the shower really sobered me up."

He raised a sceptical eyebrow at her.

"Or would you have a sober-up potion handy?" she suggested tentatively.

"Sober-up potions only work if one is intoxicated due to alcohol, not the kind of potion remnants your body is dealing with," Snape countered.

Róisín sighed, defeated, but then there was a click as the lock on the door flipped. She whipped her eyes back to Snape.

He was shrugging out of his jacket.

Her heart thrummed as he threw it over her chair and rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, his dark eyes flicking towards her. She took a tiny step back as he approached, but he stepped past her to walk around the bed. Grabbing two pillows, he placed them up on the headboard before sitting back against them. He gave the space in front of him a pat. Róisín's heart flung itself around her chest.

She climbed onto the bed so that she was kneeling between his long legs, her eyes darting around his face.

"Turn around and sit back against me," he instructed.

Róisín did as she was told and Snape snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her snug against his chest. The heat of his hard body enveloped her and when he released his grip he left his arm around her, his large hand splayed across her stomach and his bicep pushing her breast a little from the side. Her feet only reached his calves. The position felt even more intimate than when he had been on top of and inside her before.

"Relax." His voice was deep and close.

She was breathing deeply. Heavy, unnatural breaths.

There was something hard digging into her lower back. She shifted against it, and felt the heat of Snape's breath on her ear as he exhaled roughly. She abruptly stilled, her sluggish thoughts finally realising it must be his erection. She took a deep breath through her nose in a vain attempt to relax.

Snape moved the hand not around her waist to rest between her legs. The heat of his skin soaked through the thin material of her pyjamas and she reflexively gripped his forearm as her insides clenched.

"Ok?" he asked. She released his arm and nodded. He touched her gently and her legs and toes flexed in response, as though begging him to continue.

It felt really good.

Was he going to try and make her climax with his body cradling her like this? Would he be frustrated with her if she didn't? She didn't even know if she could with someone else. When Eóghan had touched her it'd felt good, but he'd never brought her all the way. Also, she normally did this lying down, would it be more difficult sitting up against him? She bit her lip hard, her heart thudding in her chest.

Snape tucked his thumbs under the band of her pyjamas on either side of her hips. "Can I take these off?"

Róisín nodded.

"Feral?"

"Yeah," she whispered.

As he slipped her pyjamas down she placed her palms on his thighs to lift herself a little so he could move them past her hips and down her legs, leaving them gathered at her knees.

She'd been naked from the waist down before in front of him, but there was something about seeing her dark curls between her pale thighs, exposed and not hidden under the duvet, that made her squeeze her legs together and cover herself with both hands.

Snape flicked his fingers and all the candles in the room dimmed. "Better?"

Róisín nodded but didn't uncover herself. He rubbed up and down the outside of her thighs, slowly moving towards her centre until his hands brushed against the side of hers.

She was ashamed for hiding, but at the same time too shy to move her hands away, and while stuck in that limbo, Snape gripped her left wrist gently but firmly and pulled it away. He guided her right hand to her clit and used the pads of her own fingers to rub lightly there. The feeling of his large hand covering hers and directing it was so intimate, the thrill of his strong body all around her even more intense than the sweet ache between her legs. Her skin prickled in a wave as a hot flush washed over her. She worried at her lip, wondering at what point he'd get frustrated with her if she was too flustered to climax. Her head was full of his masculine smell, a mix of a woody, spicy aftershave, smoke, probably from a cauldron fire, and a hint of male perspiration which made her want to bury her face into his chest and be swallowed up by him without having to meet his dark eyes.

He thread the fingers of his left hand over hers and pinned it flat against his thigh, the fabric of his trousers rough against her palm, and at the same time his right hand stilled on top of hers. Róisín was so desperate for him to continue her she almost buckled up against their hands.

He snaked his left arm back around her waist. Then, finally, he rubbed her clit slowly again with her own fingers. Róisín exhaled with relief… and almost whined when he stilled again. Was he trying to punish her?

When he eventually re-started his movements were so gentle that Róisín's fingers started to move of their own accord, speeding up and increasing the pressure to ease the aching need inside her. When his hand stilled over hers again she couldn't help but keep touching herself, it felt so lush and sweet. His hand followed hers, holding it without directing it. After a few seconds she stopped, her stomach twisting, not wanting him to think she couldn't control herself. Was this some kind of test? Or did he not understand how frustrating it felt?

Again, he used her own fingers to rub her clit in two small, delicious circles and said, his voice deep and very close, "Touch yourself for me."

A quiet whimper barely escaped her throat and her whole body tensed. He moved her fingers again but when he stopped Róisín's hand stilled, hot shame sloshing around her stomach. He released her hand and started massaging the inside of her thigh again. His other hand, still wrapped high around her waist, started to rub over her cotton t-shirt just beneath her breasts. "Breathe, Feral." Róisín released the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding.

Snape moved her hand, which had strayed, back into place between her dark curls. Leaning closer to her ear he said in a rough whisper, "We both know you know how, Feral." There was a rush of heat to her cheeks and then he leaned even closer and said, his voice hot and so close, "Like you showed me the other day, lying on your bed in your dorm. I even saw what you'd been imagining."

She'd been imagining him snaking his hand under her to angle her hips just right as he fucked her-

She lurched forward in his arms, and for a moment he maintained his hold and she thought he wasn't going to let her ego, but then he released her and she was grabbing her bottoms and dragging them up to cover herself as she hopped off the bed, feeling so flustered and embarrassed she thought she might cry.

Snape watched her carefully, palms raised slightly as if towards a snarling dog.

In between her legs was swollen and wet against the fabric of her pyjamas.

"I didn't intend to make you uncomfortable," he said evenly, his voice no longer silky but even and measured.

She swallowed. "I just…"

"I know," he said placatingly, his impossibly dark eyes pinning hers. She looked down and grit her teeth before she met his gaze again.

"No you don't. You couldn't possibly know how it is to feel this vulnerable in front of you of all people."

"Ok," he said, his voice flat, unchallenging. "What do you want? Do you want me to leave?"

Róisín's heart lurched and she shook her head. "No," she mumbled.

Why was she ruining this?

She rubbed her hand roughly against her eyes and then she was stumbling, but before she fell Snape was on his feet with his arms wrapped around her.

"You're inebriated," he stated.

"Ok," Róisín replied, not sure what he wanted her to do about it.

"How do you feel?"

"Ok," she repeated.

"Are you certain you wouldn't prefer if I left?" he said, still holding her against his chest. Róisín nodded. Then he asked casually, as if offering her a drink, "Do you want to come in my arms?" but his hand on her hip bone flexed, gripping a little before releasing again. Róisín gave a small, but certain nod. "You won't run away this time?" She could hear the smirk in his voice.

Her mouth set in a firm line. "As long as you promise not to tease me," she mumbled against his chest.

"I was not teasing you." Róisín looked up at him suspiciously. His Adam's apple bobbed and he didn't look down at her when he said, "I was trying to turn you on."

"Oh." She felt her abdomen clench and she quivered in his arms. Did he not understand that just being pressed against him made her more turned on than she'd ever been before?

"You're the one who showed me that memory," he added.

"Not on purpose."

"Ok," he said placatingly, like he didn't believe her, as he placed an arm under her thighs and lifted her into his arms, and Róisín, taken by surprise and afraid of falling, gasped and grabbed the front of his shirt.

He sat with her in his lap and manoeuvred her so that she was facing away from him like before. His arousal prodded into her again, sending a thrill through her.

He took her right hand gently by her wrist and placed it in between her legs, over her pyjamas which were wet and clinging to her there. He caressed her thighs and hips and waist as she felt his chest rise and fall. Róisín, face red and heart thudding, started rubbing herself, but stilled when Snape placed his hand over hers again.

"Don't stop," he told her.

His hand followed hers when she continued.

Her whole body started tensing, and only when Snape pulled her up with a strong arm around her waist did she realise she had started slipping down his chest. She leaned her head to the side against his pec and could feel his heartbeat, his heat leaking through his shirt onto her cheek. He slipped her pyjamas off again and Róisín only stopped touching herself for a moment to allow him to, and he continued to follow her movements with his hand. She let out a little gasp when his fingers brushed against the underside of her breast over her pyjamas, and started rubbing faster. Arching her back a little, she pressed her hips into him, putting more weight against his erection, concentrating on the digging pain of it as she climbed higher and higher.

Then she thought of Snape's dark eyes on her and moved her hand away, abruptly feeling shy and overwhelmed. Her face and neck were flushed, her underarms a little sticky and her legs stiff.

Snape moved his hand in between her legs and placed hers on top of his and said, "Use my fingers."

Touching his hand, which was so much bigger than hers, was strangely intimate, and whereas he had expertly moved hers, Róisín found it awkward to direct his. She ended up holding his index finger almost like a pencil and moved it against herself, slower than she would normally touch herself.

She concentrated on the feeling of his arm wrapped firmly around her middle and the memory of him thrusting into her the last time he'd had sex with her, but her wrist started getting sore and weak. She whined, dropping his finger and flicking out her wrist, but before she took his hand again, Snape started to touch her, with the same small, quick, movements she had been using, and she whimpered again and let her hand fall onto his thigh.

He increased the pressure and slowed down and it felt unbearably good, like he was torturing her. Róisín squirmed in his arms. She'd never felt so desperately close by herself and not just given in and increased the pace, but Snape effortlessly maintained the agonisingly slow rhythm and just when she felt as though if she didn't climax right now she would die he sped up slightly and then more and more and her back was arching away from him and a strangled moan was escaping her throat and her whole body was twitching in a way it never had before and finally... finally... the feeling crashed into waves between her legs.

She was still just a tangle of pleasure as she gasped and pushed off and away from him, but his arm remained tight on her waist and then his fingers on her clit were suddenly too sensitive and she tried to wriggle her hips away, and he rubbed her for another second, making her squirm even further, but then she grabbed his wrist and he slowed his fingers, and just when Róisín tried to push them away from her oversensitive body, he lowered them down to her opening. She whimpered in surprise as he dipped them between her slick lips, her wetness running down her thighs.

She tensed, thinking he was about to penetrate her with his finger, but then he extracted his hand, drawing it over her hip and leaving a wet trail of her arousal on her skin.

She was breathing like she'd run a marathon, her heart pounding and her limbs feeling weak and boneless. Her pyjama top was damp against his chest and unde his arm wrapped around her.

"Good?" Snape asked, his voice sinfully deep.

Róisín whimpered uselessly and squeezed her eyes. Then she nodded. A low chuckle escaped him and Róisín felt it in her chest and between her legs. A wave of exhaustion threatened to pull her under, and she knew if she were let, she'd fall asleep in his arms, even though her lower back throbbed from bracing against his rock-hard erection, the pain of which she'd enjoyed before now aching. She shifted against him and he drew his hands away from her. She leaned forward, raised her hips to pull back on her pyjamas, and rubbed at the pain in her lower back.

"Did I hurt you?" Snape asked stiffly, reaching out and placing his hand over hers on her back for a moment before withdrawing it.

Róisín grinned, still facing away from him and mumbled, "Not as much as usual." She glanced back at him and the grim look in his eyes told her he didn't find that funny. "Sorry, I was just messing."

Her eyes flicked down to where she could see the outline of his erection lying up against his lean stomach underneath his clothes. His shirt clung to his pecs and the muscles lining his ribs, all the places she'd left her sweat on him. She looked back into his eyes, which were dark and sullen as they watched her look at him, and Róisín wondered with a fresh spike of lust if he going to have sex with her now.

He made to get up and Róisín crawled backwards as he got off the bed. She hesitated before asking, "Em, are we- are you going to…"

"You're still too drunk to consent," he replied gruffly, rolling down his shirt sleeves and re-buttoning the cuffs.

"But.. what was that then?" Róisín asked, gesturing lamely to the pillows against the headboard.

Snape shrugged on his jacket. "A moral compromise," he muttered.

"Oh, do you think… will that be enough to settle my magic?"

Snape raised an eyebrow at her. "I don't know, you can tell me tomorrow."

"You're coming back tomorrow?"

"Yes, tomorrow night."

"To… For me?"

"Yes."

Róisín bit her lip hard, melting under his dark gaze, wanting him to push her back onto the bed and climb on top of her so badly.

"But… what about you?"

"What about me?" Her eyes flickered for a heartbeat down to his visible erection and back to his face before she could stop them. A muscle in his jaw twitched. "That's not your concern."

Róisín flinched at his tone. "But-"

"-I am not your concern. Understood?"

Róisín nodded, wrapping her arms around her knees as she drew them up to her chest.

"Tell me you understand."

"That I'm your concern but you're not mine?"

"Precisely," he growled.

There was a lump in her throat. "Understood, sir."

His eyes travelled down her body, his chest rising and falling with his breath. Róisín noticed his hands flexing and for a second thought he was gong to change his mind and stay-

Then there was a loud crack and he was gone.