A/N: The reviews I received last update were so incredibly thoughtful and kind! Thank you so so much! It's a lot easier to write knowing that there are people enjoying the story who want me to continue.

I really wrestled with this chapter so I hope it's ok. Thanks so much for reading!

Chapter 36: Black Syrup

It was the middle of the night when Róisín's eyes snapped open. A fizzy sensation crackled in her chest and there was a Thump, Thump, Thump, as the room shook. She lurched forward in the darkness and whispered, "lumos". Across the room on her desk, her wand flickered out a ruby light.

The bed was moving, knocking against the floorboards. Róisín hopped out of it, snarling, "Finito! Finito!" and leapt for her wand. She pointed it at the bed, and the banging got louder, accelerating like her parent's old washing machine. She cast, "Arresto Momentum," and with a final bang, the bed fell back on the floor boards, motionless.

Róisín stayed deathly still as though if she were silent now she could erase the previous commotion.

She jerked at the sound of a knock, and froze, staring with wide eyes at the door.

"Róisín, are you ok?" a deep voice asked

It was Black. Róisín's heart beat even faster and heat flooded her cheeks. Slowly, she went to open the door.

Black wasn't in sleeping attire, but a shirt and trousers.

"I'm fine, I just-" she began as his eyes ran up and down her body, before flicking to the darkened room behind her. "I was having a nightmare and I think my magic woke me."

"A nightmare? Are you ok?"

She nodded, avoiding his gaze. It hadn't really been a nightmare. She'd been dreaming of Snape. "I'm sorry if I woke you."

He chuckled. "Don't worry, you didn't, and even if you did, it wouldn't matter." He gave her another scrutinising look and rested his arm above his head against the doorframe, his shirt stretching across his broad chest. Róisín wondered again what the tattoos on his sternum meant. "Are you sure you're ok? You seem a little-"

Róisín shrugged, "Just embarrassed that my magic is… erm-"

"Don't be." He snorted. "I wish my magic woke me when I've nightmares." Róisín thought about how he'd spent over a decade in Azkaban and didn't know how to reply. Black cleared his throat. "Are you sure you don't need anything or, er- anyone?"

Her heart was throbbing in her ears. "I'm fine."

"Well, if there's anything I can do for you," Black hesitated, gave a rueful smile and said, "Not to imply- Well, if there's something you need I can get it for you- actually, I can't but I can get another Order member to." His tone turned bitter. "I've been ordered by Dumbledore not to leave headquarters, wanted man and all that."

"Yeah, they can be quite… dictatorial, can't they?" Róisín replied, thinking about her letter addressed to Anna full of forbidden secrets. Black gave her a curious look and she added, "I mean the Headmaster and Snape."

She immediately regretted her words. At the mention of the Slytherin Head, Black's eyes flashed and his jaw went taut. He looked Róisín up and down again, as though looking for something to justify his anger. Róisín wrapped her arms around herself, self conscious in only her thin, raggedy pyjamas.

The light from her wand on the desk started to flicker brightly. Black looked from it and back to her. Then he stepped away from the doorframe, as if to give her more space.

"If you'd like I could cloak the garden tomorrow and you could practice some blasting spells, you know, blow off some steam," he suggested with a grin.

Róisín bit her smile, not sure if he was being serious or just teasing her.

"That's ok. The potions master gave me a potion in case my magic got a little er, erratic, I should probably just take another dose."

Black's eyes narrowed and for a moment he looked like he was going to ask something, but instead he took another step backwards and said, "If there's ever anything you need, you can come find me. Even if it's late, I'm normally up. And if I'm not, you can wake me. I'm just down the hall," he said, gesturing to a door. "Or with Buckbeak in the attic."

"Oh, sure. Thanks," she replied, wondering who Buckbeak was.

When Black left, Róisín leaned against her closed door, her face flushed and her legs so giddy that if it weren't for the creaky floorboards she'd be pacing her room.

When he'd said she could wake him at night, it'd sounded so intimate, but with her magic bubbling in her chest and her fingertips, she probably wasn't judging things clearly right now. Circe, she needed Snape.

What would the potions master think? Would he care that she'd been chatting with Black? The two men clearly hated each other.

Róisín hopped into bed, drew the covers up to her chin and stared at her bedroom door.

But why would Snape care? The only thing he cared about was making sure she didn't reveal her secret. Their secret, Róisín corrected herself.

A vision of Snape kissing down her naked torso popped into her head, and she squeaked, squirming over onto her front and burying her face into the mattress.

Was it possible the potions master had been imagining her?

The bed lurched and Róisín's heart jumped. She had to calm down. It would be mortifying if her magic caused more havoc and Black came to check on her again.

It was a long time before she fell asleep.

Ginny woke Róisín with a firm rap on her door the next morning, insisting she come down to breakfast before her mum's famous crumpets were all gone.

The kitchen was a bustle of activity. A sweet smell hung in the air and Róisín happily accepted a plate piled high with the toasted cakes, and proceeded to slather them in butter.

Mr Weasey sat next to Lupin and Bill while the younger people crowded around Ginny who was giving an uncanny impression of Flitwick trying to stop a Hufflepuff who'd charmed his hair to spin like a helicopter from flying around the room. Róisín laughed so hard her cheeks hurt.

"Good Morning, Professor," Mrs. Weasley called out and abruptly the room went quiet. Róisín looked up and saw Snape at the kitchen door.

"Mrs. Weasley," her professor acknowledged. His long black travelling cloak glistened with water droplets and the temperature in the kitchen seemed to drop as though he'd brought the cold weather inside with him. Róisín felt the weight of everyone's gaze flick between the professor and herself. Then Snape's dark eyes found hers and her heart skipped a beat.

"Róisín, a word."

"Yes, sir."

The pack of teenagers watched her steadily as she climbed out of her seat.

The parlour door closed behind Róisín, shoved by Snape's magic. He stood a couple of feet away and Róisín stayed just inside the door. She could smell the rain on him.

"Don't call me "sir" at Headquarters," he began and Róisín flinched at his authoritative tone.

"What should I call you?" she asked, forcing herself to make eye contact. She felt abruptly stupid for spending last night praying he'd come to Grimmauld Place. Now she wished he hadn't interrupted her crumpets and her laughter.

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Perhaps my name?"

"Snape?"

"My given name."

She hesitated.

"You do know my given name?'

"Of course." She was just worried she'd somehow mess up the pronunciation.

Snape sighed. "Or my family name is acceptable, just not "sir". Summon the journal I gave you."

"Oh, I'm not sure where I- just give me a moment." Róisín rushed out of the room and bounded up the stairs. She'd forgotten to record anything in the journal since she'd arrived at Grimmauld Place. There was only one line under Saturday's date:

No symptoms, feel normal, maybe a little tired.

And that was a lie. All Saturday she'd spent thinking about Friday night, relieving again and again how Snape had felt inside her, hard and big and burning and somehow really good and how her body had flooded with fear and adrenaline at the sight of his dark mark. She'd been so unable to focus that Anna had even asked her while they studied,

"So who's the guy?"

"Sorry?"

"I know that far away look, Róisín. Help me escape Bloomer's five principles of fairy pollination and let me into your daydream?"

"Ugh, nothing," Róisín had said with an embarrassed grimace. "You wouldn't want to know."

"That kinky, huh?"

Róisín was pretty sure that Snape would categorise being so distracted that she could barely function as a symptom worth recording, but she wasn't going to write super horny and so obsessed with my potions professor I can barely think. Not in a million years.

She viciously rifled through her suitcase and finally spotted the journal bundled up with her socks. She considered filling it in now, but decided it wasn't worth the risk of Snape realising that was why she was taking so long.

She was so nervous when she opened the door to the parlour that she almost jumped when she saw Snape was no longer alone but talking to Lupin.

Both wizards turned to her and Lupin smiled warmly and said,

"Don't worry Róisín, I'm not hanging around, I just had a question for the potions professor." He thanked Snape and as he passed her on the way out Róisín gave him a small smile. Snape's jaw clenched as he watched the other wizard leave.

Róisín took a deep breath before admitting, "I didn't fill in the journal. I was distracted the last two nights and forgot. Sorry."

Snape was still staring at the door after Lupin, the line of his mouth tense. Then he looked at her, and Róisín felt herself shrink under his stern gaze. He flicked his wrist and the door locked with a snap that made her flinch.

A muscle in his neck twitched. "I'm not, I-" he hesitated. "I only locked the door for privacy, I'm not angry, Feral." His sharp tone was a strange contrast to his words. He took a step backwards, as if to prove he wasn't going to advance on her and the movement reminded Róisín of Black stepping away from her doorway last night. "Do you have any symptoms?"

"Not really, I-" Róisín faltered. "Last night my magic was a bit fluttery."

"Fluttery?"

"It made the candles flicker."

"Anything else?"

"Em…it made the bed shake."

Snape's eyebrows rose and his lips twitched.

"It made the bed shake?"

Róisín nodded, her cheeks warm. She decided not to mention breaking the vase.

"While I was sleeping."

"If you were sleeping how did you realise?"

"It woke me up."

His dark eyes pierced her, assessing. She glanced down at her socks, and when she met his gaze again she wasn't in the parlour anymore, she was in bed in her room upstairs, her hand between her legs and her head swimming with the memory of Snape on top of her, pushing into her and asking, "Are you ok?" with his hand moving under her to change the angle and then there was a deep, sweet ache inside her as she remembered picturing his lean body moving above her as he thrusted into her-

"Feral."

Róisín felt Snape's large hands grab her upper arms as she tilted forward and fell against his chest. The memory disappeared.

Snape gentled his grip on her arms, but didn't push her off him. Róisín's head moved with his breaths. "I presume you didn't intend to show me that memory?" he asked, his voice rumbling in her ear. She shook her head against his chest and then forced herself to take a step backwards, her legs wobbly. Snape moved his hands to her shoulders, steadying her.

"Are you ok?" he asked in a low voice, echoing what he'd said to her when he was penetrating her on Friday, and Róisín squirmed as a sharp heat gripped her lower abdomen. "Feral?"

Róisín nodded, not meeting his gaze. He dropped his hands from her and stepped back.

It hadn't felt like a memory, it'd felt like she'd gone back in time, like she was still orgasming when she'd fallen against him. She wanted to run from the room or for him to push her against the parlour wall. Anything but just standing here, ashamed and with an unbearable need low in her belly.

"Have you had any other instances of projecting memories, other than with myself?" he asked, his voice rougher than normal. She shook her head again, and felt his dark eyes scrutinising her. "Can you still wield magic?"

"I've been trying not to, sir," she admitted, finally looking at him.

"Try now."

Róisín swallowed. "With my wand?"

"Of course."

"It's in my room."

He pinched the bridge of his nose as if schooling his reaction and cast with a low growl, "Accio Feral's wand." A moment later the door opened and her small, thin wand flew into his hand. He handed it to her and made her cast a few spells, all of which were surprisingly passable, if a little erratic.

"Ok," he muttered. "Have you taken a dose of the potion I gave you yet?"

"Em, just a little yesterday."

"Take a teaspoon once now and again tonight. If your magic becomes too volatile for you to handle, inform Lupin."

The potion was delicious and soothing and just the thought of it made Róisín's mouth water and her stomach grumble in anticipation, but she knew it wouldn't be enough for the whole two weeks without any intervention from Snape. That meant that she'd have to inform Lupin, which would be awkward and embarrassing and then what? Snape had said before it would be inconvenient for him to "address her symptoms" in Grimmauld Place, probably because he considered it inappropriate with the younger students in the house. Ginny would certainly have questions if they disappeared into her room together. Róisín's cheeks burned at the thought. Couldn't he take her back to Hogwarts just for an evening, or an afternoon?

The muscles in his neck moved before he said, "I'm not in a position to stay, Feral, I've got other obligations today."

Róisín, mortified that he clearly knew what she was thinking, stuttered out, "Yeah, em.. Of course, s-" She almost added the honorific but managed to swallow it back.

He pulled a bundle of letters out of his cloak. One had her name written in bold, vivacious, italics- Anna, the second was printed with small unassuming caps- her mum, and the final letter had her name in a messy sprawl, Eóghan, Róisín realised.

"I intercepted these letters for you. You may give me your replies next time I'm here and I'll make sure they're received." He cast a tempus and said curtly, "I can't stay any longer."

Róisín had promised herself she'd confront him about not telling her that the Order had known there was a síog since the summer. But now that he was in front of her, she realised she'd have to admit to discussing it with the Gryffindors and there was a possibility she'd let slip about Harry and the pensieve, or maybe she'd involuntarily show him how she'd imagined what Harry had described. She was frozen with indecision, and when Snape unlocked the door and gestured for her to go ahead, she turned and left the parlour.

She watched with both relief and regret as Snape lifted the hood of his travelling cloak and stepped out into the torrential rain.

The younger people were still sitting at the kitchen table, badgering Lupin with questions. They all went quiet when Róisín walked in. She gave them an awkward smile, grabbed her plate and took a place beside Ginny on the edge of the group.

"Hermione's correct," Lupin continued, "The largest clan of British werewolves live in the Scottish highlands."

"What did Snape want with you?" Ginny asked Róisín eagerly.

"Eh-" Róisín said, hesitating, and Lupin supplied,

"It's not safe for Miss Feral for her whereabouts to be known so the potions master came to deliver her some correspondence."

"Why would Snape do that?"

"Professor Snape," Lupin corrected. "Because he's a member of the Order and the Order have been tasked with providing Miss Feral protection."

Ginny looked around the table, assessing everyone else's response to this information. To their credit, they wore relatively blank expressions, although a mischievous grin tugged at the corner of Fred's mouth, and Harry's jaw jutted forward slightly.

Ron asked Lupin a question about current werewolf alliances and Róisín, grateful for the change in topic, concentrated on her cold crumpets.

As soon as she could, Róisín rushed back to her room and devoured Anna's letter. Thankfully, Anna didn't suggest they visit each other over the break because her parents were going away to France to visit some relatives, and Anna insisted that they were so snobby and dull that she couldn't in good conscience inflict them on Róisín. Róisín was relieved because normally Anna invited her to everything, even her cousin's familiar's naming anniversary and the ceremony of her grand-uncle's cauldron-crafting mastery.

Her mother's letter was harder to read. Boarding schools were a rarity in Ireland, and Róisín's father frequently made comments about why anyone would bother having children simply to send them away for most of the year and her mother would mutter under her breath that magical powers were all well and good but she had half a mind to write to the "Irish Wizard Society" about setting up a magical school in Dublin. Therefore it was unsurprising that they were disappointed Róisín had decided to stay at Hogwarts during Christmas, especially since she had "changed her mind at the very last minute". By the end of the letter Róisín was wiping frustrated tears from her eyes. Couldn't Snape have told her sooner that she wouldn't be able to go home?

She replied to Anna first, which took a long time, and then to her parents, which took even longer. Since Eóghan was from a muggle background, Róisín guessed his letter was a simple Christmas card, but for some reason she left it in her desk drawer unopened.

She took another gulp of Snape's potion.