Chapter Title from "Rhiannon" by Fleetwood Mac

Sirius woke up in his fourth-floor bedroom at Grimmauld Place to a blood curdling scream. He sat up and instinctively grabbed his wand, panting as he looked around. "Damn it, Mother!" he shouted when he realized it was only the portrait of Walburga Black, screeching her disapproval of the house's mixed blood guests, now including Rhiannon. Or so he thought. He realized no one in the Order had pressed Dumbledore for information on Rhiannon's mother, though it obviously begged several questions. Whoever she was, she must have been beautiful, Sirius thought, memories of the young witch sleeping three floors below him filling his mind.

His normal morning arousal overtook him tenfold as he pictured her curvaceous figure, emerald eyes, and smooth creamy skin. If someone had told him 24 hours ago that he would be hot for Lord Voldemort's offspring, he would have recommended them for admittance to St. Mungo's. The whole summer lay ahead of them before she left for Hogwarts, and Sirius intended to make the most of it. And he still hadn't given up on changing Dumbledore's mind regarding the plans for her. Snivellus wouldn't have the first clue what to do with all that beauty and magical prowess. Sirius could see it going one of two ways— either the greasy bat would be a disgusting lecher, causing Rhiannon to be on constant defense against his advances, or he would completely ignore the perfect goddess of a witch sharing his quarters and keep his giant nose buried in books and cauldrons the entire time.

Sirius had every clue what to do with her, and he ran through several of the scenarios in his head while taking care his sudden urgent need.

There, that's better, he thought. If he went downstairs like that he'd probably frighten her. Rhiannon was the type of girl that was worth the long game, and Sirius was ready to get started.

"Kreacher!" he summoned impatiently, absolutely hating that he was stuck with such an impertinent, obstinate, and downright bigoted house elf. That was one of the many reasons why Sirius had delayed returning to his childhood home. Only when it became necessary for the Order to have a secure meeting place did he finally agree, though he did wonder how secure it actually was with such a disloyal creature spying on his every move.

"Master?" Kreacher spat, as if the word tasted bad on the tongue.

"Make a hearty breakfast for the house this morning. And see to it that Miss Aspenfell has anything she desires. Has she awakened yet?"

"Mudblood is still sleeping, sir."

"Fuck, Kreacher, if I hear that word one more time, I'll..." he didn't get to finish before Kreacher disappeared with a snap.

Sirius continued cursing under his breath as he began freshening up, selecting a crisp, light blue shirt with a brown suede jacket and khaki slacks. He smiled as he saw his reflection, endlessly thankful that his shaggy Azkaban dog days were over. Even though he was homebound for the time being, looking his best made him feel good.

Sirius checked in on Buckbeak, the hippogriff taking up residence in his parents' former bedroom, making sure he had his breakfast. Buckbeak had been his only companion for over a year, having been crucial to Sirius's escape after Snape had discovered the runaway prisoner's presence at Hogwarts. Snape would have sent him on a one way ticket back with a few curses for the road and the seal of the Dementors' Kiss, if Buckbeak hadn't been there to fly Sirius away. He owed this creature more than just a warm bedroom and three meals a day, but for now that's the best Sirius could do.

Sauntering into the dining room, Sirius sat down at the table with The Daily Prophet, perusing its pages as he supervised Kreacher's comings and goings in preparing breakfast. Sirius's ire was immediately raised by the scathing editorials discrediting his godson Harry, even going so far as to suggest that Sirius himself was responsible for the growing unease of the wizarding world, as an Azkaban escapee. He threw the paper aside with a growl.

The smell of sausages, eggs, summer fruits, and toast filled the air and helped to ease his mood, along with fine coffee brought back from his recent tropical travels. He'd always heard Americans had a love for coffee, and he wanted Rhiannon to feel at home.

Just as he was about to check his watch and consider waking her, she appeared in the doorway of the dining room, wearing a simple floral dress, half her hair pulled back in braids on each side with the rest cascading down her shoulders in golden waves. She smiled when she saw him and moved boldly to kiss his cheek, resting a hand gently on his jacket.

"Good morning, Sirius," she murmured, taking a seat comfortably at his side.

Sirius tried not to appear as ecstatic as he felt inside. "To what do I owe this most pleasurable greeting?" he asked.

Rhiannon shrugged and blushed a little. "I'm just really thankful to be here. When my mother forbade me to return to Ilvermorny, I thought my life was over. You and your friends have given it back to me. And the way you've treated me, even knowing who I am...who my father is..."

"Your father is not who you are," Sirius reassured her, once again covering her hand with his as he had last night. When she smiled again he brought it to his lips. Gods, he wanted to take her upstairs. He had never met a witch with a more magnetic energy.

Instead he continued, doing his best to wax philosophical like his friend Remus and not give in to his more basic desires. "One of the most important beliefs we hold in the Order of the Phoenix is that you are not defined by where you come from or the blood that runs through your veins. We are honored to have you fighting along on our side."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Is that why I'm here, Sirius? Does Dumbledore think of me as some kind of secret weapon against Vol— my father?"

"Let's not call him your father," Sirius said decidedly. "Up until last night, he wasn't, at least to you. As for Dumbledore, we trust him as our leader, though we do not always understand his motives. I am sure he sees you as an asset, and one worth protecting. We are not even certain the Dark Lord knows of your existence, but if he does, he would not pass up the chance to control that 'piece of himself' he would perceive as floating around in the world. And on top of all that, we all feel sadness at the idea of a brilliant young witch having her opportunities so suddenly stripped away. You deserve a chance to reach your full potential, and we will all work to give that to you."

"You betcha we will!" Tonks exuberant voice echoed as she entered the hall, quickly followed by another shriek from Walburga's angry portrait. "Shut up!" Tonks added to the portrait, helping herself to a pastry as Kreacher put down the tray. "That's Sirius's mum," she explained. "Lovely woman. Super fun at parties."

Remus snorted as he took a seat beside her and started the plate of hot foods circulating around the table.

"Why not just take the portrait down?" Rhiannon laughed.

"Permanent Sticking Charm," Sirius said with rolled eyes. "They didn't write me out of the will, only insisted on finding ways to make me as miserable as possible while I live here."

The four of them ended up being the only attendees at breakfast that morning, Arthur Weasley having gone to work at the Ministry and Molly returning to the Burrow for some of her duties there. She had been spending much of her time at Grimmauld Place, helping Sirius make it as homey of a spot as possible. It had suffered from years of neglect while Sirius was in Azkaban and had even become a shelter for nefarious creatures and cursed objects. Cleaning the place had proved too much for Sirius and his useless house elf, so he was grateful for the other Order members who dropped in and volunteered their time.

Most of Sirius's own efforts had been focused on the small garden out back, and that was where he elected to take Rhiannon for the day, proud to show off his handiwork. Herbology had been one of his best subjects at Hogwarts, and he considered himself a green thumb. Of course the fact that Grimmauld Place was hidden between Muggle houses and covered in protective charms necessitated magical work in the garden as well, but Sirius was happy for the challenge to occupy his time.

He watched as Rhiannon buried her face in the blooms of lavender, wisteria, and delphinium, the colors and their rich aroma making her even more enticing to him. He felt like he was in a dream that he never wanted to wake from, but a gnawing feeling hung over it all — black, gloomy, and decidedly bat-shaped.

How on earth could Albus even consider giving this beautiful creature over to such a monster?

The books laying open at Spinner's End were to remain that way, for the time being, as Severus Snape was essentially forced to return to Hogwarts. After he departed Grimmauld Place, disgusted at the wanton, immature dog-panting of Sirius Black chasing a female, Severus apparated as close he could to the castle then trekked the rest of the way through the starless night to the gates. The Order's medicine stores were in need of replenishing, and his brew table and ingredient stores at Spinner's End simply weren't adequate. With the Dark Lord once again gaining strength, Severus needed to spend the summer brewing and stockpiling.

He also wanted to keep an eye on the crews Albus had already sent to the castle to begin their remodel of his dungeons. The headmaster assured him his personal bedroom, office, and classroom would not be touched, but Albus and Minerva were in agreement that the spare room, the small living room, and the bathroom needed to be made more comfortable for Miss Aspenfell's arrival. Why the head of Gryffindor house even had a say in how his part of the Slytherin dungeons looked was beyond him. The woman exerted far too much influence compared to the other heads of houses.

Severus entered the castle and immediately took in his surroundings, hand on his wand. It was a habit he'd developed whenever he entered a place, always on guard for the unexpected. The eerie hush of the castle during the first week of summer was a bit unnerving, even for someone like himself who reveled in quiet and solitude. Almost all of the students went home for the summer holiday, except the few who were growing up with merely a house, not a home— like a Severus himself as a boy. He had spent many a holiday in the eerie emptiness of Hogwarts rather than return to the violent anger and immense sadness of his own residence. Severus and the rest of the faculty took turns supervising during this time, and he found himself a bit more lenient with the students that remained, feeling a bit of a kinship with their plight.

"Good evening, Severus," Professor Flitwick greeted him as they passed in the hall, and Snape nodded in return. Severus was relieved he would be on duty with Flitwick this time and not Septima Vector, who always made advances his way whenever the castle was less busy. Though older, she was somewhat attractive and a highly skilled, intelligent witch. But Severus did not like to mix business with pleasure, and he wasn't overly fond of women who came onto him aggressively. He needed it to be his idea, or at least more of a mutual dance than a frantic pounce.

When he reached his rooms in the Slytherin dungeons, he removed his boots with a sigh and sank into his leather sofa. It was a bit too warm for a fire, but he waved his wand to light candles around the room, allowing himself to relax while staring at the dancing flames. These moments of silence would be few and far between soon. Papers to grade, potions to brew, idiot dunderheads to scold and correct, snogging teenagers to pry apart, summons from the Dark Lord, Order meetings, and now the full breadth of a witch's sixth and seventh year education on his shoulders.

He was grateful she was smart— not that he would expect anything less from the Dark Lord's daughter. He could not tolerate substandard performances, or his patience would soon wear thin. And unlike with his other students, he couldn't simply dole out a detention and then disappear to the sanctuary of his private quarters. Everything he had, he now had to share with her. It was exceedingly unfair.

Stop wallowing around in self-pity and figure out what your plan is going to be, his inner critic scolded himself. He knew his first item of business should be a more detailed discussion with Dumbledore. He needed to know everything the man knew— things about her mother, her upbringing, and especially her Ilvermorny house. He needed to read up on Ilvermorny period. And did the wolf and the Auror even bother to retrieve her wand when they rescued her? Severus was starting to realize that storming out of the Order gathering was probably not the brightest move. His task at hand would be much easier if he had stayed and gotten to know the girl a bit.

Woman, Severus, not girl. And since when was it ever easy for you to get to know a woman at all? He could feel a sneer forming as he pictured Black fawning all over her, getting her to spill her secrets and tell all about her past, her likes and dislikes, making her laugh, all the things that came so easily to men like him and James Potter. No, he had made the right decision in leaving. With Black around she wouldn't have given him the time of day.

Severus poured a glass of firewhisky and sipped it with a glare. By the time the summer was over, the witch would be in love with Black. She would probably spend her entire first week in the dungeons crying herself to sleep and unable to concentrate on her lessons. Sirius had the attentions of a multitude of witches during their school years, with his fancy clothes, noble family name, and rebellious streak that allowed him to "feel" bad without actually being threatening. Severus was certain Miss Aspenfell would be in Black's bed before the week was out.

That is, unless a week wasn't allowed to go by. Severus saw no reason why she had to remain at Grimmauld Place for the summer. He would convince Dumbledore to send her to Hogwarts immediately to begin her studies. He would be able to devote more time to her with the other students gone, and he could begin training her in the defense tactics she would need in the event she was discovered by the Dark Lord. Her occlumency skills would certainly need to be strengthened — she didn't stand a chance against Voldemort with the mental connection shared genetics offered him. Yes, if this is how it had to be, he preferred to get started now. He would talk to Dumbledore first thing in the morning.

That will show the arrogant dog his place, Severus thought to himself with a smirk. He stripped away his remaining clothes and settled into the green and silver silks of his Hogwarts bed. The next few months would bring challenges from all directions, but for tonight, he would rest.

"Severus, I will tell you exactly what I told your Gryffindor archrival — the plans are set, and nothing is changing. The factor of Miss Aspenfell's safety and concealment of her identity must be considered. It is much easier to hide her away at Grimmauld Place than at Hogwarts, even if most of the students are on holiday. These initial weeks buy us time while we weave together a believable narrative for her sudden appearance into our world. It will take a great deal of magic, and time— I suspect even a few months into the fall term. You will have to work to keep her out of sight and undiscovered in the dungeons— a task I believe you will grow tired of quickly. She is a Thunderbird, after all."

"What does that mean?" Severus was disappointed but not surprised with the answer to his request. He very rarely won where Dumbledore was concerned. He would simply move on, attempting to extract as much information to use to his advantage as possible.

"The Thunderbird is literally its name," the Headmaster continued. "A bird that creates a storm when it flies. Witches and wizards in this house are forces of nature— they represent the very soul, and when faced with a choice will always follow the most adventurous path. I can imagine you will have some time in the beginning, as the newness of Hogwarts and the dark romance of the dungeons will no doubt feed this desire in her for awhile. But she will want to fly, and it will be up to you to tame her." His eyes began their infamous twinkle. "I can think of no one better for the job."

Severus leaned forward, elbows on knees and head buried in his hands. He wiped his face as he sat back up, already exhausted at the thought. Everyone always assumed being a disciplinarian and an outright arse just came naturally to him. While it was undoubtedly his default, the situations forced upon him by both the Order and the Dark Lord often demanded that type of temperament. Even if Severus himself would have preferred something a bit lighter, a bit more human, it became harder to find that person with each and every day, each and every task. Being hated was beginning to wear on him. He would have liked to start anew with this completely foreign relationship in his life— someone with no knowledge of him, no preconceived notions of Slytherins, no friends at Hogwarts telling her how she should feel about him (though he was certain Black would already be working on that last part.) A clean slate— something he had never been allowed. Alas, it seemed he was to forever be pigeonholed as the nasty, vile authoritarian that everyone feared.

"I hope she will not have to be contained too long," Dumbledore went on. "After Remus and Tonks have rested a bit, and the next full moon has passed, I am sending them back to the States to start crafting an identity for Miss Aspenfell. A full education, a career, addresses, resume, hobbies, friends, lovers— fully believable. It will take quite a bit of questionable magic. Both obliviating and creating memories. I am sure my first two designees will be presented with some ethical dilemmas along the way. You would have been a better fit for the job, or some other Slytherin, but I'm afraid those willing to work for the Order are in short supply. They will do the best they can until it is time for Remus to return for his monthly sabbatical, then I will have to send others back and forth to finish the job. All while monitoring and protecting Harry and keeping apprised of Voldemort's activities. I will need you, Severus."

"Is it worth all this?" Snape asked incredulously. It seemed painstakingly laborious in addition to ethically gray, and he had trouble believing the petite young woman he'd healed yesterday was worth the effort. He stared at the constellations on the office carpet and was suddenly reminded of the electricity he had felt between them when he touched her. Magic like hers was not common. He just wish he knew the reason and how it all ended. What was her purpose? Would they invest all this time and energy into her only for her to turn to dark magic at the end? Was she supposed to fight, ascend to the top of the Order, bear powerful magical children, take over the Ministry, kill the Dark Lord, die herself? The possibilities were endless. As of right now, the simple prospect of becoming housewife to Sirius Black was even on the table. The thought made him want to vomit.

"It won't be forever, Severus," Dumbledore assured him, reading Snape's expression as easily as one would read the Daily Prophet. "Let him have his fun. And her. I daresay, a harmless little love affair with Black will make your job even easier once the summer is over. Get some of the Thunderbird out of her, so to speak, so she can focus during her time with you. She was also chosen by Horned Serpent— the house of the mind, you know. No doubt why her marks have always been so exceptional in spite of her wanderlust."

Severus obviously had a lot of reading to do on Ilvermorny. He had no idea one could be chosen by multiple houses. "So if they both chose her, she chose Thunderbird? To be a wild, havoc-wreaking beast over a controlled and calculating mind?" That seemed all he needed to know to understand how this current situation would unfold. It was a scenario all too familiar.

"Well, that was her decision, but you could also look at it like this: when faced with the safe choice, the logical choice, what looked to be a fit for her on the surface— Rhiannon chose the dark passion of the soul, the unknown, the messy and the misunderstood. In fact, most scholars tend to draw parallels between Thunderbird and Slytherin house, though you'll find people don't always fit neatly into boxes. You can take from all those facts as you will." The old blue eyes still twinkled. "Now, I think you have a rather exhaustive list of potions to tend to, do you not?"

Severus nodded, taking in the implications of everything he'd said— and everything he hadn't. "Yes, sir."

"Are you settling into your room well enough? Have everything you need?" Sirius asked Rhiannon. "I hear the Weasley children will be joining us soon, so you may have a roommate."

They had just finished helping Molly clear the dishes after enjoying pot roast and vegetables and had retired to the library, seeking some quiet after the lively dinner crowd. Rhiannon had never experienced that many people staying in one small place. It was loads of fun but also overwhelming.

"Yes, the room is fine, thank you," Rhiannon replied. She curled up on one side of the sofa and studied the wizard in front of her. He was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen, putting the No-Maj boys in her parish and her mother's various suitors to shame. Sirius remained standing, leaning casually against the fireplace as he sipped an after-dinner drink. Rhiannon took notice of the way his well-groomed brown mustache just barely covered his lips, and she felt herself flush as she imagined the sensations that and his goatee would create on her skin. Her eyes fell to his belt, low slung over his slender waist, then over to his hand, fiddling with a shiny pocket watch. He had the longest fingers she had ever seen. She was willing to bet he was an expert on what to do with them. A man who looked like that would have had plenty of experience. Rhiannon suddenly wished she could change her answer to his question; there was definitely something missing from her room - him.

She had not forgotten, however, the mysterious feeling the other wizard with the dark voice and dark hair had given her the night before. That one was more complicated, even a little frightening. Since Tonks told her she was going to Hogwarts, Rhiannon assumed she would have a chance to analyze that one later on.

Right now she was focused on Sirius Black. The only thinking that required was a plan for how to get closer to him. She needn't have worried. His blue-gray eyes were fastened to hers, searching for a clue that she wanted him to approach. Rhiannon smiled and patted the seat next to her on the sofa, feeling a flutter as he slowly sauntered over. He was considerably older than her— she assumed mid to upper 30s. Now that he was closer she could see the lines in his face and hands. But that had never bothered her. Age meant experience, wisdom, power— all things she craved. These British wizards were going to be the end of her.

"Tonks told me you were in Azkaban," she started cautiously. "But that you were falsely accused. What happened?"

Rhiannon listed with rapt attention as he recounted the tale of his dear best friend and his wife, parents of his godson, how they were betrayed by one of their own who then framed Sirius for the deed and for the killing of innocent Muggles. Sirius had been the first to ever escape the notorious wizarding prison, with the express purpose of seeking revenge on the traitor, who now served as lackey for Lord Voldemort and was largely responsible for the dark wizard's return. Sirius told her of his godson's account of the return itself, an ancient evil ritual performed in a graveyard where Harry's own blood was taken to revive her father from his pseudo-life form into a full-fledged, restored wizard. It dawned on Rhiannon the gravity of what the Order was fighting, and she was haunted by her own blood connection to it all. To think half of her genetics came from someone so terrible.

Sirius must have seen the haunted look on her face, because he raised a finger to trace her cheek softly. Rhiannon trembled a bit under his touch, and she saw him smile happily when he noticed.

"That's enough talk of this darkness," he murmured. "Tell me about yourself. I want to know everything."

"Everything?" she teased. There was a lot to tell. She was complicated. And yet nothing came to mind.

"Favorite color," Sirius suggested.

"Green."

"Food?"

"Anything Indian."

"Zodiac sign?"

"Virgo."

"Ah, a virgin."

"Not a virgin." It slipped out before she could stop it.

Sirius chuckled. "Ah, I see. Me neither. And Scorpio. Boyfriend?"

"Not at the moment."

His eyes were gleaming, mischievous. "Sexual position?"

Rhiannon didn't hesitate. "I like to be on top."

He narrowed his eyes. "A dom?"

"You could say that."

"Mmm."

Rhiannon noticed his lap shift uncomfortably. "Well that escalated quickly," she said with a laugh.

"You have no idea," Sirius agreed. "Will you excuse me?"

"Do I have to?"

He seemed embarrassed. "I'm afraid so. You see I promised myself I would take this slow."

"Why on earth would you do that?" Rhiannon reached a hand out and traced below his jawline, anxious to feel the soft stubble there. She let her thumb drift over his mustache, his lips.

"Rhiannon..." he whispered, breath ragged.

"Ahem." The two of them looked up to see Sirius's best friend Remus in the entrance to the library, looking sheepish. Sirius quickly untucked his shirt to hide the growing evidence of their playful encounter.

"Sirius, we received the DNA trace back from our contact within the Ministry, on Rhiannon's attacker. They had to reach out to the Bulgarian Ministry to confirm— but apparently he was a Durmstrang graduate. Name was Kevin Platov. Current whereabouts unknown."

"A Death Eater?" Sirius inquired.

"Likely, but we do not know," Remus answered. Rhiannon noticed his eyes registering her proximity to his best friend and the latter's apparent discomfort. "We should be cautious," he continued warily, "Until we know what challenges we are dealing with, and how involved the Dark Lord may have been. If he knows of her existence, it's a different game indeed."

Sirius nodded. "Yes. Best to take everything slow and assess the situation." He glanced at Rhiannon with a wink and a grin. "Now, if you both will excuse me, I find myself rather tired this evening. I believe I shall retire early to bed." With a dramatic bow Sirius left the room.

Rhiannon raised her gaze to Remus with a smile. "Thank you for the news, Professor Lupin. And for all of your help in getting me to safety." She stood and gave him a small hug.

Remus just shook his head. "I see why he finds you charming. Are all Thunderbirds this coquettish?"

"Some," Rhiannon said matter-of-factly. "But you'll find I tend to be one of a kind when it comes to sex." She wasn't attracted to this particular wizard, and he had such an academic way of speaking to her that she felt like she could talk easily without muddying any waters. Besides, she had already picked up on the way he looked at Nymphadora Tonks.

Lupin's eyes were wide. "I suppose my friend has an interesting summer ahead then."

"I hope so." She smiled and waved to him before retreating to her own room.