A/N: Hey! I hope you guys are all well! I've been reading your comments and loving them :D
I'm sorry this took so long! Well, actually this isn't the chapter that took long... it's the next one. Which I think you guys are going to enjoy. This chapter was supposed to be longer but I cut it in half because I really wanted to post something before Christmas. Snape isn't here a lot, so don't get too excited XD (That'll be the next chapter...)
Again, as usual, I'm really sorry for the delay. There are fanfics I check every single day to see if they have updated, so if you are someone who does that for The Stirring, I really appreciate it and I understand the frustration!
Christmas Eve at Grimmauld Place was magical. Róisín drank endless mugs of hot chocolate, played exploding snap until her hands stung and learnt the words to "Where the Goblins Dance'' and "The Bowtruckles Hung the Mistletoe", trying and failing to keep a straight face as the twins slipped in their own dirty variations.
There were Weasleys everywhere. Charlie had returned from Romania, with an even kinder smile and broader shoulders than Róisín remembered. She couldn't speak to him without blushing, wondering if he knew about her and guessing that he did. Tonks was there too, her hair a bouquet of red and green tinsel, chatting to Lupin and sending Róisín warm smiles over her mulled wine. Black was around, but only smiled when someone met his eyes, and when Harry and Ron dragged Tonks and Lupin out to the garden for a snowball fight, Black declined and slid up to the attic.
Rather unfairly in Róisín's opinion, the snowball teams were divided along house lines, so she and Tonks had to fend off all the Gryffindors. It did help, however, that Tonks could morph into members of the opposite team. Róisín put her wand up her sleeve and left it untouched for the entire fight, feeling proud of herself and guilty at the same time. She managed to hit the twins twice in the face though.
"There's the miraculous síog," boomed a familiar voice. "How are ye', Róisín?"
Startled, Róisín looked up from watching the kitchen fire warm her frozen fingers. Hagrid was squeezed into a corner of the kitchen with a fire whiskey steaming in his hand.
"Merry Christmas, professor," Róisín replied cheerfully, and looked around, vaguely confused as to how Hagrid had gotten through the narrow kitchen door.
"Ah knew there was somethin' else in ye," he stated proudly, his fire whiskey sloshing out of his cup. "A touch o' veela way back, or maybe fay from the way all the creatures warm to ye. If Professor Snape had've come to me and asked which of the girls in Hogwarts weren't fully human I'd have steered him to ye in an instant, muggleborn or not, these things can just pop up, like witches and wizards from muggle folk. Oh well, at least yer' all sorted now. I hope your professor's bein' good to ye!"
Róisín had no idea how to reply. She was happy that one of her favourite teachers was apparently a member of the Order, but she was wholly unprepared to talk to Hagrid about Snape. Luckily, he didn't seem to notice she hadn't replied and kept going,
"Ah, I'm sure he is. Dumbledore's man through and through. How's the aranaccio project coming along? Ye know what you should do? Ye should pop over to the Italian Alps and observe them in person, maybe even grab a wee bit of spawn from them, I've a tank that would do nicely fer-"
"It's just that I'm not the best apparator-"
"Sure isn't Professor Snape supposed to be lookin' after ye, ask him to take ye, I'm sure he'd be only happy to- Sirius! How are ye! How's Buckbeak?"
Róisín turned, surprised to see Black's tall figure beside her. She desperately hoped that Hagrid wouldn't bring Snape back up in front of him.
"Don't tell Molly, but he got out to stretch his wings last night, so he's happy," Black replied.
"I'm sure he was delighted ter see Róisín. She was the only fifth year he'd ever let ride him."
"Actually, I don't believe she's graced him with her presence yet."
Róisín looked up at Black, embarrassed and confused. Then it clicked.
"Wait, your Buckbeak, the Hippogriff?!" she exclaimed to Hagrid. "But the Ministry killed him?"
"It turns out he got away," Black said with a grin.
"Oh my god. Can I see him?"
"Of course," Black replied, looking genuinely happy. He gestured for her to lead the way and Róisín gave Hagrid an awkward little wave goodbye before she scurried out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
On the third floor, Black flicked his fingers and a flimsy, rotten wooden ladder unfurled itself from the ceiling, leading to a black hole above.
"I wouldn't recommend climbing it, I just wanted to show you where to apparate to, there's a space to the left," Black explained.
"Oh, no I'll climb, it's grand," Róisín muttered, grabbing a rung of the ladder which rattled in protest as if offended that it was being put to work. She snatched her hand back.
"So you're really not a fan of apparating?" Black asked with a grin.
"Still makes me throw up," Róisín admitted.
"It's a tiny hop."
"I know, but still."
"May I take you?"
She nodded, her heart doing a little lurch, but he didn't embrace her, he just took her hand, placed his other on her shoulder and then Róisín was coughing from the dust in the attic. Black immediately stepped away from her. He seemed bigger in the enclosed space, and had to bend his head a little to avoid the rafters above.
Even in the thick gloom, Buckbeak's golden feathers shone proudly. Róisín wanted to throw her arms around him, but instead gave the deepest bow she could. He nudged her upright before she finished, rubbing his large head so firmly against her that she stumbled backwards.
"I missed you too," Róisín mumbled into his soft feathers. She wiped her eyes, surprised to find them wet. "How did you end up in an attic in London?"
"It's a long story," Black replied.
Róisín continued stroking Buckbeak, not knowing what to say. The bedding underneath him disappeared and fresh straw floated from nowhere to replace it, while water poured out of the air into a large bowl. Róisín looked over at Black, noticing that he didn't have his wand out.
"That's impressive wandless magic," she commented.
"You're one to talk."
"Yeah but I'm… that's different."
Black's eyes lit up with his smile. He shrugged and said, "Well, I had to do something for twelve years in Azkaban."
"Oh, I see." Róisín wanted to say she was sorry for him, but the word seemed too trivial for someone who'd lost most of their adult life.
"I was rooting for you and Tonks earlier by the way," Black said, settling on the floor and throwing Buckbeak a dead rat.
"You were watching?"
Buckbeak folded his legs underneath himself while nuzzling Róisín, encouraging her to sit against him.
"Your wandless magic is magnificent, " Black added. "When you cast that ice shield while sending the snow tornado at Ronald, the look on his face was perfection."
Róisín blushed. "Says the wizard who just conjured water with his bare hands."
"I had a long time to learn that, and sometimes it meant the difference between life and death."
Róisín nodded and watched Buckbeak swallow the rat in one.
"How often do you practise?" Black asked.
"Practise?"
"Wandless magic."
"Oh, well, I'm not really supposed to."
"Snape doesn't let you?" Black's tone was low and even, but his fingers flexed into a fist at his side.
"Er, not really, no." Black rolled his eyes. Róisín wanted to change the conversation, but it was too awkward not to acknowledge his obvious disapproval. "You don't agree with him?"
"I think to protect you, we should train you, not just hide you and pretend you don't exist. Trust me, hiding will drive you mad, even if you're hiding in plain sight."
Róisín shrugged. "Yeah, maybe." Her heart was pounding. How good could she get at wandless magic if she actively tried to improve?
"Otherwise, all that frustration and cooped up magical energy is just going to keep bursting out of you when you're stressed or afraid."
Róisín nodded, her eyes trained on the hippogriff beside her.
"On that note, I should apologise," Black said gently.
She looked at him questioningly.
"I shouldn't have continued that duel, it wasn't appropriate. It was never my intention to frighten you."
"Oh, no, don't apologise. I'm sorry for causing so much trouble. I was the one who asked you to continue and… I wasn't afraid," Róisín lied. "I was just overwhelmed, it was my first time duelling wandless. But like you said, it's good for me to practise." She gave Buckbeak a few rapid strokes, trying and failing to hide her discomfort
Black didn't reply, and she could feel his grey eyes on her. After their duel yesterday, he'd said something about researching síoga for the Order to Snape, but she was too shy to ask him about it, even though if she did he'd probably give her more information in one conversation than Snape had revealed to her over weeks. She glanced back at him and he gave her a kind smile, saying,
"We can practise now if you want."
They spent the next hour wandlessly transfiguring pieces of straw into more and more elaborate things, with Sirius giving her advice to help her focus her magic. Eventually, Róisín managed to transform a few strands into a tiny straw hippogriff that stomped around the attic like it owned the place, even squaring up to Buckbeak who huffed at it angrily in response.
They were coming back down the stairs to the ground floor when Róisín looked up and saw Snape standing in the hall.
"Snape," she blurted in surprise, "I mean, professor, sir. Hello."
There was snow on the shoulders of his travelling cloak. Róisín thought of last night, remembering the feeling of climaxing in his arms, and her face began to heat.
His dark eyes flicked past her to Sirius.
"Feral," he replied, his eyes on the other man.
"Em, Sirius was just showing me Buckbeak, he's a-"
"-A hippogriff, I'm aware."
"I was helping her with wandless magic," Sirius stated coolly.
Snape's eyebrows raised. "Is that so?"
"Since no one else in the Order seems to think her training is a priority."
"As usual, your insights into what the Order's priorities should be are invaluable," Snape drawled, his voice thick with sarcasm.
"What, not going to jump down my throat for letting her practise her magic this time?"
"Well, she's not tied up and unconscious this time," Snape countered smoothly, but the muscles in his jaw were tight.
Sirius ignored Snape's retort and surprised Róisín by putting a large warm hand on her shoulder and asking warmly,
"Róisín, can I get you a butterbeer?"
"Em, sure, thanks."
Sirius let his hand run off her shoulder and squeezed her arm gently before moving past her into the kitchen. It was a simple friendly gesture, but Róisín had the distinct impression that it hadn't been for her benefit.
The muscles in Snape's jaw were tight as he looked from Sirius to Róisín.
"How are you feel-" Snape began stiffly but was interrupted by Mr. Weasley leaving the kitchen and saying,
"Merry Christmas, professor. Molly said you were looking for me?"
Snape's black eyes left her.
"Evening, Arthur. Yes, there's something I need to discuss with you."
The two wizards entered the parlour and the door closed with a click behind them.
Half an hour later, Róisín was sitting with the others in the kitchen when Mr. Weasley came in wearing a grin.
"What did Snape want with you, Dad?" Ron asked sceptically.
"Oh, nothing, just Order business," he replied as his eyes slid to Róisín and his smile grew even bigger. "Anyway, I have to go work on that… muggle handmixer, so that I can help Molly prepare the puddings," he muttered and disappeared into the basement.
The Weasley kids all looked at Róisín, as if she knew something they didn't. She just shrugged, as confused as they were, and sipped her butterbeer.
A/N: Please review! Reviews are my life force. Even if it's just to complain that this chapter was too short haha! (I know, I agree)