Chapter Title from "Rhiannon" by Fleetwood Mac
Rhiannon offered her finger to the snow white songbird that leaned forward from its perch, its beady black eyes studying her as it chirped. Sirius had ordered a cage placed in the library for her to house the white, golden, and emerald green birds that had found their way to the Grimmauld Place garden. She had found them playing in the garden where they had made love the night before. That factor was a bit odd, but their brilliant colors and tame temperament caused her to fall instantly in love, and she wanted to keep them. Sirius had agreed, believing they were a divine gift blessing their union. That was three days ago, and she was still trying to think of the right names for them.
The volumes that lined the walls of the Black family library were tattered and browned with age, and their contents were mostly just stories of their family history, along with treatises singing the praises of pure bloodlines. There were a few old Hogwarts textbooks, as well as children's stories that had belonged to Sirius and his brother Regulus, a Death Eater whom Sirius presumed to have been killed by one of her father's followers, though he was unclear as to why. Regulus had doodled his name out of intricate, curvy snakes in the cover of one of the books of legends. To think that her own father was responsible for the death of Sirius's brother, and the death of thousands of others. Rhiannon shuddered.
Turning to the stories for inspiration in naming her birds, she suddenly felt a shock start in her stomach and seem to run up her spine.
"You would think with your growing need and so much time on your hands, Black, you would learn to brew these on your own," a silky voice reprimanded from the hall. "Then again, I'm sure you lack the fundamental knowledge required for the brew, considering you ignored Professor Slughorn's lectures in favor of sniffing after every bitch that passed by."
"Not every," she heard Sirius correct him handily. "Lily always belonged to James."
Rhiannon heard the whoosh of a robe and the sound of boots smacking on the wood. She peered around the corner to see her Gryffindor lover and Professor Snape squared off, wands in hand.
"Gentlemen, wands down!" Arthur Weasley commanded, rushing up from the kitchen. "You do realize there are more important things at hand than the feral hormones of twenty years ago, do you not?" Arthur caught a glimpse of Rhiannon watching in the wings and shifted his gaze between the two angry wizards. "Twenty years or twenty minutes, whatever the case may be, we are all charged with a mission far greater than our own desires and we are required to work together to achieve it," he continued. "Wands DOWN."
The two men obeyed, continuing to eye each other with disgust. "Do your business here and get out," Sirius muttered, stalking off upstairs. Rhiannon was surprised that he didn't even glance her way, seeming once again to be trapped in his past. Professor Snape's black eyes fell on her sharply and Rhiannon felt herself sink back into the wall, wishing she could disappear.
Arthur seemed to pick up on the new tension in the air and immediately excused himself, looking questioningly at Rhiannon on his way out, seeming to wonder if she needed his aid. She shook her head almost imperceptibly, gripping the doorknob to the library as she remained up against the wall.
"Well, well, we meet again, Miss Aspenfell," the voice floated in her direction. The professor drew his black cloak back together around his front, replacing his wand. "I trust my work on your injuries has held in spite of your recent...physical activities."
Rhiannon blushed an intense shade of crimson and wished she could hide. She absolutely could not, as he was taking steps down the hallway to close the gap between them. She already detested the version of herself she became whenever he was in the picture, whether in her dreams or apparently when he was standing right before her. It was nothing like her normal playful confidence, instead some awkward puddle of uneasiness and doubt.
Snape stopped when the toe of his boots was almost touching her bare feet. He was considerably taller than she was, and her face came in line with the trail of black buttons on his suit. She breathed in and caught the smell of cedarwood, lavender, smoke, and bergamot. Contrasted with Sirius's high-end, refined scent of choice, Severus's smell was straight from the earth— his potion ingredients mixed with a strong and sensual musk. Rhiannon not only felt like a puddle, but she suddenly felt a puddle. She was grateful to be wearing one of her new skirts with a generous amount of fabric behind which to hide.
Snape reached into his robes and produced a velvet drawstring bag, from which the clanking of vials could be heard. "I made some for you to keep with your personal items as well, in case Black decides that holding you ransom with his pup will keep you from leaving for Hogwarts."
She accepted them shakily. "Thank you, Professor."
"I believe you will be happy with your new abode," he continued. "Albus and Minerva have already done a number on my rooms in honor of your arrival."
Rhiannon swallowed, shrinking. "Your rooms, sir?"
"Hmph." A small smile appeared on his lips. "So they haven't told you. Not surprising. They probably fear you'll fly away."
"I won't fly away." It was the first confident statement she had managed to squeak out.
"Your studies at Hogwarts will be supervised by me, and only me. Your room will be in the Slytherin dungeons, as it happens to be the safest place for you to avoid detection by other staff and students. It also happens to be the location of my classroom, office, and private quarters. Through not so private now that you'll be invading them. We will be moving together through an enormously condensed study of all sixth and seventh year curriculum, in addition to advanced defensive spells, occlumency, apparition, and whatever else the Order deems useful for you to learn. At some point throughout the term, I suspect your new identity will be thoroughly crafted and you will be able to reveal yourself at Hogwarts, at which point we will no longer have to suffer at such close proximity to one another. Believe me, I will be just as eager as you are to see that day arrive." The professor paused, and Rhiannon wondered how he rattled off all of that so smoothly and authoritatively without an ounce of hesitation. He still hadn't moved from his spot, keeping her effectively pinned.
"I won't fly away," she repeated simply.
She could tell he searched her face for a betrayal of what she really thought about the whole scenario he had just laid forth. The truth was she didn't know what she thought. It was too difficult to think in her current position.
Snape cleared his throat. "Good girl. I will hold you to that promise. Do not disappoint me. Now if you will be so kind as to point me to the werewolf— I have something he requires."
"Yes, sir." He still didn't move, forcing Rhiannon to brush up against him awkwardly as she moved away from the wall. "I'm sorry," she found herself muttering, even though it was his fault. She retreated downstairs to the kitchens as quickly as she could, not looking back.
After Rhiannon located Lupin so the wizard could receive his week's worth of Wolfsbane potion, she stopped by the room she shared with Ginny to stash away the velvet bag Severus had given her. She then ascended the multiple flights of stairs to Sirius's room. Even after a week and a half at Grimmauld Place, she still hadn't seen his personal space. Since they had used the only contraceptive potion in the house after their night in the garden, they had been cautious while waiting for Snape to replenish the stores. Of course there had been heavy snogging (she was still getting used to calling it that), but in a house that overcrowded, many spectators took it upon themselves to ensure it never went any further than that. They gave the relationship their blessing, but the needs of the Order came first. And the Order did not need a defenseless baby added to its ranks.
Now that she had one of the vials of fuchsia liquid tucked safely into the hand-sown pocket of her skirt, Rhiannon felt it was safe to visit Sirius's space. If he still wanted to see her. She wasn't quite sure how to react to his behavior downstairs.
"Sirius?" she asked with a knock.
"Come in." He sounded much calmer than before.
The door clicked open and Rhiannon found herself with that time capsule feeling yet again. Just like his tales of years past, his room too was little more than a vessel for his memories. She felt a bit of a disconnect between the polished, powerful wizard she'd known thus far and the juvenile surroundings where he chose to sleep. Sirius himself was shirtless on the brightly colored duvet, his hands behind his head as if he had been staring at the ceiling deep in thought.
"More Permanent Sticking Charms," he said apologetically, using his wand to wave around the room. "We don't always make the best decisions as teenagers."
"I see." Rhiannon smiled and curled up next to him on his bed, sighing happily when he pulled her to his chest. In the daylight streaming through his curtains she was better able to see the ancient rune tattoos that covered most of his torso and arms. Ancient Runes was only an elective at Ilvermorny, but Rhiannon had chosen to take it. She had always been irresistibly drawn to the past and to the wisdom of those who came before her, so their words and symbols were a sacred study. In examining those Sirius had chosen, she could see references to the Grey wolf and the Dog Star, a sign representing sacrifice, and a sign for desire— an interesting one, as it actually meant a desire for desire. There were many others — wealth, brotherhood, storms — she loved that one, since the Thunderbird itself brought storms with the flap of its magical wings. That one sat just above his navel. She bent her head to kiss it and remained there, her cheek resting on his belly. Sirius propped a pillow under his head and looked down at her with a soft stroke of her hair.
"Speaking of teenagers," Rhiannon began softly, "Would you tell me what all that was about downstairs? Why do you and the Professor hate each other so much?"
He shook his head a little and she could tell he was ashamed of his behavior. "James Potter was our best friend— mine and Remus's. Harry Potter is my godson, as I told you. They are my true family— my chosen family. Lily Potter, Harry's mother, grew up with Severus Snape. He was obsessed with her— absolutely mad — possessive, controlling. When Lily fell in love with James, Snape couldn't take it. He joined with many of his fellow Slytherins in their pureblood nonsense, even though he's a half-blood himself, and she a Muggleborn. He always had a love for dark magic, and it started to frighten Lily. When he turned the proper age he became a Death Eater, turning his back on everything we all fought for, everything she fought for. He is a traitor and a snake."
"Severus loved Lily? That's so sad."
Sirius laughed in disbelief. "I just told you the man is a Death Eater and that's your only reaction?"
"Well clearly he's not a Death Eater now, or Dumbledore wouldn't trust him," she said with a shrug.
"Oh, but he is. Meetings, summons, revels, killings, all of it, just like before, I'm sure. He just reports it to Dumbledore afterward so somehow it makes it all ok." That disgusted, angry tone was creeping back into his voice again.
Rhiannon felt unsettled all of a sudden. Her future didn't seem quite as clear with this new addition of knowledge. Their objective was supposed to be to protect her from her father, yet putting her into the custody of Severus Snape would only move her closer to his web of evil. It's almost as if Dumbledore wanted her there...right at the precipice, to see what she would do...
"Professor Snape told me the truth — about the plans for me," she confessed, her fingers still absentmindedly running over Sirius's bare chest.
"And?" he asked her, raising up a bit more for a more direct conversation. "Did it change your mind? I can try again to have you stay. I will work on getting some other Order members onboard. Maybe together we can..."
"No," she whispered, coming onto her knees and straddling him. It was time to take his mind, and hers, off of Snape for today. "It is decided. I'm a big girl, Sirius. I can handle this." Rhiannon hushed his protestations with her mouth, removing the potion from her pocket and setting it on the bedside table.
Sirius's hands played at the hem of her long, rather old fashioned skirt, pushing it upward to run his hand up her leg before caressing the skin of her inner thigh. She closed her eyes and moaned a little into his mouth, having missed his more intimate touches the past couple days.
His hand drifted upward. "You're already so wet," he marveled.
Rhiannon's just laughed a little in response, glad he couldn't possibly the know the original cause of her desire. Sirius flipped her onto her back into the warm quilted duvet, foregoing the removal of the rest of her clothes except a quick flick of his wand to send her panties flying across the room. He didn't bother to remove his own pants either, simply pushing them down out of the way. Skirts lifted up, the wizard thrust into her, his mouth sucking at her neck roughly.
Once again, she felt electric sensations pulse through her. Sirius was in charge this time, his pace aggressive with his pent up desire and the release of his tensions from the scuffle downstairs. Rhiannon closed her eyes but when she did so, was immediately overtaken by the memory of the heat she'd felt between her and Severus when he had her pinned to the wall, and the memory of his musky smell.
Blocking the image, her eyes opened again and fixated on the face of the sexy wizard making love to her now, his light eyes filled with adoration for her, his brown mane hanging down his shoulders with the Gryffindor colors of his room blazing behind him on fine tapestries and silks. He was beautiful. Loyal, principled, passionate, animated, and full of the zest for life Rhiannon so admired. She knew she was lucky to be his chosen witch and that he wanted to fight to keep her.
Rhiannon wanted to tell him that, but she didn't know how. She couldn't say she loved him; she thought maybe she did, but it hadn't even been two weeks, and she couldn't say it in good conscience knowing that images of his archnemesis were invading her thought and dreams. But that wasn't her, was it? That was some...other...part of her. The real Rhiannon was confident and full of life, sexual, strong. The part that was starting to love Sirius Black. The part of her that shook and quivered for Severus Snape didn't even feel real, like she existed on some tenuous plane where the world around her was fluid, misty, and she couldn't trust the floor beneath her feet. It was dark and shadowy and consuming, and she felt like a girl there instead of a woman. She didn't like it, so why was it still pulling her in?
"Where did you go?" Sirius asked her. He was panting, and Rhiannon could tell he was struggling to hold back, waiting for her.
"Nowhere. I'm here, with you," she whispered. She brought his head down to hers and worked to reassure him with heated kisses. Her legs wrapped around his and she moved in unison with him, allowing the mounting sensations of ecstasy to bring her back to the here and now— to this Gryffindor wizard that was fully and truly hers.