A/N
I'm sorry for the delay! This chapter has been ready for a while but I don't like posting until I have the next couple planned out. I've found the chapters at Grimmauld a little tricky because there are so many beloved characters in one place!
Thanks as usual for your amazing reviews and words of encouragement :)
Chapter 33: Wizard's Chess
Róisín hesitated in front of the basement kitchen door, listening to the chatter inside. Her stomach gurgled at her angrily.
She'd spent her first morning in Grimmauld Place calculating the velocity of stars for astronomy and working on her charms essay, Theoretical limits to Nuttley's Reparo. Other than nipping to the bathroom down the hall, this was the first time she was brave enough, well, hungry enough, to leave her room.
"It's not going to ask you the weight of a feather on Jupiter you know."
Róisín spun around. The Weasley twins were standing over her.
"Sorry?" A knot formed in her chest, all too aware that they knew, at least to some extent, about her and Snape.
"You can stand there all day but it's not going to give you a riddle," Fred or George teased.
Róisín snorted in annoyance.
"Some doors you can just… push," the other twin said slowly as he reached over her and pushed open the door.
The chatter died abruptly. Potter, the youngest Weasley boy, Granger and another red-headed girl were sitting at one end of a long table. At the other end a thin, balding man wearing horn-rimmed glasses was sitting next to a man in his mid-twenties with long red-hair tied at the base of his neck. They were all staring at her through a haze of smoke. Coals gleamed in the middle of an old-fashioned cooking range and flames licked at a kettle hung above. In the quiet, Róisín could hear bubbling and sizzling and the rich smell of stewing pots hung in the air. A huge fireplace lit the other end of the room.
The older man broke the silence,
"Hello! Great to meet you. Róisín, isn't it?" He stood up and reached across the table to shake her hand. "You'll remember my son, Bill, from when he was head boy." He gestured to the man beside him who rubbed his forehead bashfully.
"Dad, Bill graduated before we went to Hogwarts, remember," Fred or George corrected, "and Feral's in our year."
Bill stood up to shake her hand and said, "Pleasure to meet you," in a deep, gravely voice that dragged over Róisín's insides. His face was sunkissed, and his eyes were a deep brown. He gave her hand a polite squeeze before letting it go.
"Likewise," Róisín replied.
She glanced around awkwardly. The four at the other end of the table were still watching her. Granger gave her a thin but friendly smile, the Boy-Who-Lived pinned her with narrowed eyes and the younger Weasley boy looked both wary and curious, like he'd spotted a mountain lion on a hike. The red-headed girl's gaze flicked between Róisín and everyone else.
Bill nodded towards the stove to indicate Róisín was free to help herself and she smiled in thanks. She waited while the twins piled mountains of rashers, sausages, potatoes and leeks onto their plates before helping herself to a more modest portion.
Her plate shook in her hands as she made her way to the table. She knew she shouldn't be surprised to see Potter and his friends; it made perfect sense that the Boy-Who-Lived needed the protection of the Order, but she couldn't stop thinking of Snape pinning the famous Gryffindor to the wall, the boy's scrawny frame twisting in his strong grip, while the teenager screamed and accused him of violating her. On her way to the table she glanced at the mop-haired fifteen year old, deliberating, not for the first time, whether he and his friends knew why she had been in Snape's chambers. She had convinced herself that the headmaster would have explained it away, but now she wasn't so sure. The Order members knew what she was and why she was here so maybe Potter and his friends did too?
Róisín took the free seat beside the younger red-headed girl.
"So, would I be right in guessing you're another Weasley?" Roisin asked her.
"Yeah, the youngest."
"Gryffindor?"
"Of course," the girl replied with a grin. "And you're a Ravenclaw?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"Well, you weren't brave enough to leave your room all day-"
"-Ginny!" Mrs Weasley snapped at her, bustling out of the pantry holding onions and garlic.
"I'm only messing mum."
Róisín flushed as she stared at her daunting plate of food and swallowed a mouthful of fried leeks. She considered asking why the other teenagers were here but figured in Potter's case it was obvious and she certainly did not want to have to answer the same question herself. She took an awkwardly large gulp of water.
Bill and Mr. Weasley were discussing the scrolls spread out in front of them, which looked like the plans of a building, and the three Gryffindor fifth years hadn't said anything since Róisín had arrived. The twins were looking with amusement between herself and the others.
Ginny broke the silence,
"So, why are you here?"
"Ginerva," the girl's mother scolded her, shooting her a warning look from over her shoulder as she vigorously chopped onions. "Róisín is staying at headquarters during the break and that's all you need to know." It was obvious this wasn't the first time she'd had this conversation with her daughter. One of the twins snorted into his drink and their father, mother and older brother shot him reproving looks.
"But everyone else knows!" Ginny protested and gestured to the rest of the table, "They clearly know! Why can't I?"
"Trust us." Fred or George said,
"You don't wanna know," the other one added and whispered, "It'd give you nightmares."
"That's enough."
Everyone startled at Mr. Weasley's sharp rebuke. "Miss Feral is under the protection of the Order, and as our guest she is to be treated with respect." His voice was deep and deadly serious. Judging from the looks of shock around the table, the man was not given to angry outbursts. Even the twins, normally so unflappable, looked a little sheepish.
"We were only messin' around," one of them mumbled.
"It's actually kinda cool that she's-" Mr. Weasley silenced his son with a stern look. However, the other twin, who was distracted as he had returned to shovelling food into his mouth, ploughed ahead,
"It's just rough on Feral that the Slytherin git-"
"-Oh, shut it!" Granger snapped.
The whole table looked at her in surprise. The slight, bushy-haired Gryffindor was glaring daggers at the two older boys. In the ensuing silence Granger turned to Róisín and asked with a measured politeness, "So, were you studying for your NEWTS this morning?"
Róisín took a moment to feel the heat in her cheeks and forced herself to prepare another forkful of food that she had no desire to eat. Overly aware that everyone in the room had gone quiet, she took a steadying breath and replied,
"Oh, yeah just some astronomy and charms." Granger raised her eyebrows with interest. "Yeah, em, next I have to research the use of prime numbers in Amharic spellcasting for Professor Vector," Róisín muttered, saying the first thing that came to mind.
"I actually have a great arithmancy book on East African witchcraft, I could lend it to you, if you'd like?"
"Yeah, that'd be great, thanks," Róisín replied and gave Hermione a grateful smile.
The rhythmic sound of Mrs. Weasley's chopping returned and the conversation at the table gradually gathered momentum. Apparently, while tackling a nest of wargles in the attic, one of the creatures had climbed up the inside of Ron's trousers. The whole table spluttered into laughter as Harry described how he'd almost hexed the red-head's bollocks off in his rush to help and Rón's insistence that it actually hadn't been funny but almost catastrophic just made everyone laugh harder. After they'd calmed down Róisín cleared her throat and said,
"You guys must've cleaned the room I'm staying in. Thanks a lot, it looks great."
"No worries," Hermione replied, "it was good practice for disarming doxies for Defence."
"Yeah, and Ron will remember not to touch random stuff in this house again," Harry muttered. Ron held up his hand to show Róisín the tiny red marks covering his thumb.
"A figurine of the captain of purity rises," Ron said the team name with disgust, "the bloody thing actually bit me!"
"You'll survive," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes.
Bill turned towards them and added,
"Róisín, be careful in that room, you never know in an old wizarding house like this so if you notice anything unusual or feel strange in any way let me or another Order member know, ok?"
I feel strange all the time, Róisín thought, but she nodded.
"Hey," George exclaimed, "You never told us to come to you if we felt strange! Not so concerned about your own flesh and blood as you are about the new girl?"
"All of your rooms have been used to house Order members before, but to my knowledge Róisín's hasn't been and well, her room might react differently to her magic."
Bill turned back to continue his conversation with his father and Róisín was relieved when Hermione changed the subject to discuss their plans for clearing out an unused room in the basement.
After lunch Róisín was almost at the first landing when Fred called out to her (by now she was pretty sure she could tell the twins apart, she reckoned the bridge of Fred's nose was a bit more pronounced and George had more freckles over his cheeks).
"Oi, even Ravenclaws aren't allowed to study the whole time."
"Come and watch Ron beat everyone at chess," George insisted.
They all settled into the parlour, the chess set on the ground in front of the fire with Ron sat cross legged in front of it, his black playing pieces flexing and swinging their swords while the white pieces looked around the room nervously. Harry was the only one to put up much of a fight, but still, even with the twins whispering suggestions in his ears, Ron's rugged queen eventually grabbed Harry's king by the beard and dragged him off the table. Hermione watched Ron carefully throughout his winning streak, with two spots of colour on her cheeks. Finally it was Róisín's turn.
"Have you played before?" Ron asked her.
Wizarding chess was a common pastime in the Ravenclaw common room, but Róisín, having not been taught from a young age like her peers, barely knew the rules and rarely played. She grimaced and said apologetically,
"Er, not really."
"That's ok, I'll go gentle on you." The twins snorted and Ron quickly corrected, "I mean, easy, I'll go easy on you." His red freckles blended into his blush.
Róisín made it clear she was open to advice and soon the whole room was collaborating on her game, with Róisín mostly counting the votes. In spite of that, by the time the majority of her pieces were lying in a disgruntled pile off the board, only five pawns and a knight had sacrificed themselves on Ron's behalf.
"So who's Ronald's latest victim? Miss Feral?"
Róisín turned and saw Black leaning against the doorframe, his broad frame eclipsing the light spilling in from the hall. The top buttons of his shirt were open and when he took a drag of his cigarette the resulting glow illuminated a runic tattoo on his sternum.
Ginny moved from her seat behind Róisín to sit by the fire and the wizard took her place. He smelt of tobacco and cloves. For a moment he didn't speak, but Róisín could sense him examining the board over her shoulder. Then he said, his voice deep and certain, and almost but not quite close enough for her to feel on her ear,
"Order your bishop to G4,"
"But his queen can-" Harry started to protest from the opposite couch but Black must have shot him a look because he went quiet.
"Bishop to G4," Róisín said, her voice wavering a little. Her bishop shot her a displeased look before begrudgingly moving into position. Ron, brows furrowed in thought, looked past Róisín to Black and then examined the board. With a shrug he said,
"Queen to G4."
The queen marched over to Róisín's bishop, took him by his pointy hat and flung him onto the floor. Black directed Róisín on two more moves. Then he instructed,
"Send your queen to F3."
"Queen to F3," Róisín ordered. The piece crossed her arms and didn't move. "Queen to F3," she repeated. The white queen huffed and tapped her foot.
"May I?" Black said as he stretched his hand over her and picked the piece up. The queen twisted and kicked against his fingers as he dropped her unceremoniously onto F3.
Róisín took a shaky breath full of Black's heady scent. Certain her face was flushed, she budged to the right to put some space between them. Ron was scratching his head when Róisín finally realised and blurted,
"Check!"
Ron sighed and said to the wizard behind her,
"Well if I were playing you, I clearly wouldn't have left him open-"
"I never knew you to be a sore loser Ronald," Black said smoothly.
Ron sighed again and moved his king. Róisín's eyes darted around the board, and finally she saw the move that would finish the game.
"Rook to D7," she said, and before she could glance at the wizard behind her to see if she were correct he said,
"Good girl" in a soft voice that melted over her insides and down between her legs.
"Check mate," she said quietly, relieved the game was over.
"Woo! Finally!" Fred exclaimed from the couch.
Ron sighed and reached across the board to shake her hand,
"Good job, Feral."
Róisín blushed.
"Well, it was a team effort. You should probably be congratulating, em, Sirius and not me." She hesitated before saying the wizard's first name, suddenly worried she'd only imagined him giving her permission to use it.
"Hey, we all contributed. We set up the win for you, didn't we, Sirius?" George insisted playfully.
"Sure you did," Black said behind her, and Róisín could hear the smirk in his voice.
Róisín managed to excuse herself to her room to do some much needed study, but when she was finally alone she found she couldn't concentrate at all.
A/N
If you're looking for something to read you could try out my other work-in-progress; "On the Other Side" (also a Snape/OC). Just a warning that it's definitely more trope-y than The Stirring, and will have more explicit smut if that's your thing...