Chapter Title from "Rhiannon" by Fleetwood Mac

Knee cracked on cold marble. Searing pain shooting through. Wind knocked out. Humiliation at landing prone on the floor. It was a rather standard arrival to an audience with the Dark Lord. Voldemort made a point to re-establish dominance within the first second of an interaction.

"Ah, Severus. It took awhile this evening, didn't it? Did I wake you?"

"Yes, my Lord," Severus admitted humbly, slowly lifting himself off the floor. "Thank you for your forgiveness." It was the better answer. Saying no meant he would have to invent another excuse for his tardiness.

"Of course, Severus. I need my servant well-rested. Now, let us skip the pleasantries and attend to the matter at hand." Voldemort took a seat in a rather sad looking armchair, the centerpiece of a tattered living room showing years of neglect. Severus was surprised that the Dark Lord was still utilizing his father's abandoned manor house as a home base, having expected him to find a more extravagant abode in the months following his return. A quick survey around the room revealed newspaper clippings, maps, lists, photographs— haphazardly scattered about— evidence of a mad, obsessive fact-finding mission as he prepared for battle. The Dark Lord was obviously too distracted to worry about upgrading his surroundings.

Severus remained standing at attention, back to the wall. He noted Nagini slithering in from the hallway, greeting her master by winding silkily around his ankles.

"Tell me, Severus, why friends of Albus Dumbledore are suddenly popping up unannounced across the pond? And in my old haunts, at that?"

Snape bristled inwardly but betrayed nothing in expression or movement. "I had not heard of such a thing, my lord, regrettably. When you say 'across the pond,' exactly where have they been sighted? I may be able to piece together a possible motivation upon my return..."

A spurt of fiery ash flickered onto his arm after escaping causally from Voldemort's wand. It singed a hole into his black suit before extinguishing, causing a sharp sting. Snape was grateful it wasn't more than that.

"You may be able to piece together? And you're asking me for more information? Are you or are you not my informant, Severus? This is a significant development, and for you to have no knowledge of it is a greatly disappointing, not to mention highly suspicious. Perhaps I should see what you are hiding from me?"

The invasion was swift but Severus was ready. A memory crafted of a meeting at Hogs Head — Dumbledore, himself, and Remus Lupin. Dumbledore asking Lupin to recruit werewolves, having heard that Voldemort was doing the same. Suggesting he try other lands since Voldemort would have already exhausted the communities nearby. Snape making snide dog jokes as usual where the Marauders were concerned. Believable, but boring.

"Traveling to New Orleans to recruit werewolves? How gullible, do you think I am, Severus?" His voice was nearly a shriek.

"I am only thinking to previous conversations that may be pertinent, my Lord. I assure you I will inquire as to any possible travels this week."

"Why don't you also inquire about who this might be?" Voldemort added, tossing a photograph at him impatiently. The paper landed face down atop Snape's boot, and a sickness formed in his stomach as he bent to retrieve it. He didn't even have to turn it over to know it was her. It was a photo of her laying on a dirty tile floor, wearing the same clothes she had worn the night Lupin and Tonks had brought her to Grimmauld Place, only in the photo she also wore a strange necklace that Severus had not seen her with before. He raised a curious gaze to the Dark Lord to see the very necklace hanging from his long, bony finger.

"I had sent a rather idiotic recruit on a mission to retrieve this for me back in July, from New Orleans of all places. And lo and behold, he finds it while apparently shagging this random girl in an alleyway. Now, Severus. How did this girl come to possess a powerful talisman that once belonged to me?"

"I do not know, my Lord, but I will find out. Could be truly random. Perhaps purchased in a second-hand shop?"

"Hmm. And now suddenly members of Dumbledore's sad team of followers happen to show up there little more than two months later? It would seem they are looking for the girl, and I want to know why."

"Maybe not the girl, but maybe the talisman? Are they aware of its existence, my Lord?"

"No, no one except myself and one other. The witch who made it."

Witch, Snape thought. Voldemort would not use that term lightly. Rhiannon had said her mother was not a witch, merely a practitioner of local superstition. He promptly shut her back out of his mind in case of another invasion.

"May I be permitted to see the talisman, my Lord?"

Voldemort extended his arm. "You may retrieve it."

Severus stepped forward, catching himself as he stumbled over the rise in the floor Voldemort had created. Voldemort snickered and created another, watching Snape awkwardly navigate them. It was just as much the small humiliations with the Dark Lord as it was the grave dangers. Always an exercise in power.

Having managed to snag the talisman, Snape examined it with a critical eye. It was a leather strap with a small rectangular bag attached to the end. The front of the bag was etched with the words "Eponina Potia" — inside the bag was a strange wooden figurine, a brown horse with a white mane, and female rider wrapped with a serpent body featuring a demon head. The woman wore a crown of roses encircling her reddish gold hair, and in place of a dress were a collection of red scarves wrapped around her body. He handed it back to the Dark Lord curiously, feeling no particular power emanating from the trinket.

"May I ask her name, my Lord? The one that gave you this talisman?"

"Epona Moon," Voldemort laughed mockingly. "Fitting for an stupid American whore, yes? 1970s America, where every simpering young girl fancied herself a child of the earth or a goddess of the sky. Silly as she was, she was quite skilled where it mattered. I enjoyed the pleasures between her legs exceedingly in the few months I was there."

"And she was a witch?"

"Of a sort, yes. She studied under a priestess who had mastered a particular brand of magic in which I found myself interested." The Dark Lord fingered the leather bag thoughtfully. "It was a colossal disappointment, mostly. Save for this. She said it would give the bearer the power to trample Death underfoot, when the time comes."

"Forgive me, my Lord— with such a powerful tool at your disposal, why would you leave it overseas all these years?" Snape asked delicately.

"All of their other spells were abysmal failures. Useless, low brow games of lust and revenge. Why would this be any different? Besides, the wench was being difficult, as women are. She demanded passage with me to England in exchange for the charm, and of course I refused. A common whore on the arm of the most powerful wizard in the world?" Voldemort cackled again, stroking Nagini. "I had no use for her any longer, nor her childish magic. However since returning to full power months ago I found myself dreaming of the stupid trinket nightly. We place power in dreams, yes? I sent a servant to retrieve it for me, in the off chance it could afford some advantage in the days ahead. Then lo and behold, I suddenly learn of British wizards, right there on those very streets, strident in their undertaking of some unknown mission. Coincidence, Severus?"

"It would seem not, my Lord."

Voldemort casually sent a stinging jinx in the direction of Snape's leg. Snape gritted his teeth but otherwise gave no reaction.

"Discover the full intentions behind these visits. And discover the identity of the girl. You will have the answers before I summon you next, and you will receive no warning beforehand. So I suggest you make haste. Or I can assure you our next interactions with one another will move far beyond bruised knees and stinging jinxes."

Snape bowed reverently and apparated quickly back to the point nearest Hogwarts. It was nearing 3 a.m., but Snape dared not waste a minute before reporting to Dumbledore. The Order needed to be called back, immediately. He was furious at how bungled this foolish endeavor had become. The very fact that Rhiannon had been cursed by the Cruciatus should have been their first clue to bring her into protection and then lay low, not galavant around a foreign city filling heads with lies and obliviating memories. Dumbledore's penchant for games would be the downfall of them all.

"Miss Rhiannon, I have your coffee!" Olwen called from the living room.

Rhiannon groaned and rolled face down into her pillow, the late, long night rendering her glued to the bed. When she registered the word 'coffee', she finally sat up. Her mind suddenly remembered Severus's abrupt departure, and she ran toward his bedroom door. It was still wide open as she had left it, empty. He hadn't returned. She felt like someone had kicked her in the stomach.

"Olwen, have you heard from Professor Snape?" Rhiannon asked, her voice hoarse with worry.

The chipper elf shook her head. "No, love. Not since last night, when he ordered the dinner and the coffee for you. He very much wanted you to have a happy birthday. I hope that you did."

"Yes, it was wonderful. Thank you." Rhiannon sat down at the table, feeling helpless. She wanted to run for help, but was of course trapped. "Olwen, please get word to Professor Dumbledore. I believe Professor Snape is in trouble."

"I am not, at present, but fear we shall be soon enough," his deep voice came in from the doorway, his exhausted looking frame soon following. Rhiannon ran to his side and threw her arms around him, not even caring that Olwen was there to witness. Snape returned her embrace with a weak stroke of her hair.

"I must prepare for class," he excused himself. His black eyes searched hers just briefly, and she knew he wanted to tell her more, but his obligations to the school came first, always. Severus disappeared to his bedroom with not even an hour to shower and rest before teaching his First Years. Rhiannon marveled at his strength and devotion. She allowed herself to enjoy her cup of coffee, smiling gratefully at the fact that he had remembered the offhand mention of her preference.

Renewed in purpose and filled with caffeine, Rhiannon spent the day lost in her studies, determined that Severus would have to waste little of his precious time on her education if she could help it. Besides, there were far more desirable ways to spend her time with him, and she was anxious to return to them as soon as he was rested and willing.

After hours of Arithmancy and History of Magic, the door to Snape's quarters creaked open, and Rhiannon hoped for a second he had opted for another lunch break at home. She was surprised to see Minerva McGonagall entering the Slytherin abode instead. She held an alternate password for entry in the event Severus was ever unable to return. It only worked if Severus was absent. Rhiannon stood to greet her.

"Good afternoon, Professor."

"Afternoon, Miss Aspenfell. You are looking well. Much better than I would expect for someone cooped up in the dungeons all day." The Gryffindor surveyed their surroundings, barely hiding her disdain for the dark enclosures.

Rhiannon smiled." I do miss the outdoors, but Severus makes it as enjoyable as he can."

"He does?" Minerva peered over the top of her glasses in shock.

"Yes. He's very thoughtful."

The older woman pursed her lips with doubt but eventually nodded. She directed Rhiannon's attention to the bound book that was tucked beneath her arm. "Well, I won't dawdle," she continued. "I wanted to bring you this so you could begin studying...yourself." She laid the volume overtop Rhiannon's current textbook with a sigh. It was quite heavy looking.

"You'll find it's very comprehensive," Minerva told her. "When the Aurors place someone in Wizarding Protection, you'll find they use a similar dossier. All they basically had to do was fill in the blanks, then set to work altering the reality to match the narrative. They have unfortunately had to speed up their work as of today, so I fear some may be sloppy. All the more reason you will have to be as convincing as possible. The good news is, you will be retaining your name. Your mother had the good sense to give you your own last name rather than hers, and Severus is sufficiently convinced after last night that Lord Voldemort was unaware of your name. The simple fact that you can retain it will make this process much easier."

"Wait— they discussed me last night? During his summons?"

Minerva frowned. "I'm afraid so, dear. It appears your attacker that night was a minion of the Dark Lord's, and that they were after, and it appears successful in retrieving, a bauble you wore about your neck."

"So he knew about me?" Rhiannon's heart was thundering as she tried to place what object Minerva spoke of. Yes- how could she forget? Her hand trailed to her neck. It was like someone had temporarily removed the memory from her brain, because she hadn't registered it missing after all this time. Now that she was suddenly brought back into awareness, she felt an emptiness at its absence.

"Not exactly," Minerva replied. The man you encountered in the alleyway snapped a photo of you wearing the necklace and sent it to the Dark Lord. He has no idea who you are, but he has asked Severus to find out. Therefore our plans must advance more quickly than we had originally intended."

"So Voldemort has the gris gris?" Rhiannon asked shakily.

"Is that what it's called? Then yes. Severus observed the trinket last night."

"Professor, that means he cannot die."

Minerva gave her a reassuring half-hug. "Everyone can die, dear. Anything else is just superstition."

"Well, of course he can die eventually, but this makes it much, much harder to kill him. It enables its owner to repeatedly trample death."

"Or, it enables them to believe they can repeatedly trample death, and thus act with false bravado, more easily falling into traps. Let's look at the bright side, shall we?" Minerva smiled.

Rhiannon looked at her doubtfully. She knew enough from the attitudes at Ilvermorny that her hometown brand of magic was not looked upon highly in the wizarding world, but she wasn't so sure they should be so quick to dismiss its power. Especially in the hands of her father. But she had to wonder how he knew of it. Had it been his? Her mother had given it to her before she left for Ilvermorny— but she'd never mentioned anything about it in relation to her father. Of course. No one ever dared mention her father.

"Minerva," she said quickly, realizing this was one of the few rare instances of outside contact she was ever allowed. "How is Sirius? Have you seen him?"

The older witch smiled. "Once. I don't attend all of the Order meetings when school is in session. But he asked about you. Multiple times. He is as good as can be expected, just lonely. I'm sure you understand."

Rhiannon was filled with guilt. She didn't understand. She was stir crazy, yes, but not lonely. She wanted to ask Minerva to deliver a message to him on her behalf, but she didn't know what to say. "Tell him I love him" was tempting, but did she really want to keep filling him with hope when she herself was so conflicted?

"I will tell him you asked about him," Minerva said with a small nod that seemed like she had read Rhiannon's thoughts. She continued. "Rhiannon— Albus tends to orchestrate these great schemes with seemingly little regard for feelings. I admire him greatly. He is a brilliant wizard. But he often sees us all more like chess pieces than human beings. I want to offer you a word of warning that your fate in all this may not be in your own hands."

Rhiannon smiled wistfully and nodded toward the gigantic volume on the table that now contained her entire identity. "I can see that."

"Yes, there's that..." Minerva hesitated. "But I believe part of his plan may involve...well, a marriage for you."

Rhiannon tried to read between the lines. "Yes, Dumbledore seemed very supportive at our engagement party..."

"You know I don't mean that," Minerva said quietly. "But I am happy to hear that Severus is... 'thoughtful' where you are concerned... isn't that how you put it?"

Rhiannon stared at her, stunned to hear her confirm it. "What? But everyone was at the party with me and Sirius. Was this the plan all along and no one told me?"

"It might have been Albus's plan," Minerva admitted. "But the rest of us were not aware. Least of all Severus. He had already begun to lament losing you to Black before he ever got a chance to win your affections." She smiled. "But as of last night the hints of a possible union seem to be dropping faster. I believe this is their way of protecting you further now that Voldemort knows of your existence. Hiding you in plain sight, so to speak."

Rhiannon returned to her seat, not knowing what else to say. Of course she herself had considered the notion of becoming Rhiannon Snape just last night, but knowing she didn't have a choice in the matter was another thing entirely. Thunderbirds did not take well to cages, no matter how attractive and enticing.

"Minerva, I need you to help me see Sirius," she told her empathically. When the Professor looked at her helplessly, Rhiannon shook her head. "No. I have to see him. You have to get him here. Please. I may not have that much time left."

Minerva drew her into a hug. "All right, Miss Aspenfell. I will find a way."

Sirius tossed and turned fitfully in his bed. Even in sleep he could feel sweat on his back. He was atop a horse, and he had ridden for what felt like three straight days. His mouth was parched from only taking small sips of water in order to conserve it for the journey. Alongside him rode a stag that he knew to be James. He was on a nonspecific quest it seemed, save for chasing Rhiannon. She rode ahead of him as she had for days and nights, a glimmering gold gown cascading down the flanks of her white horse. Sirius would speed up, sometimes feeling like he was flying, but Rhiannon remained at a slow, steady, measured trot. It was impossible, and frustrating.

"Please stop!" Sirius finally shouted after her.

To his surprise she obeyed, slowly turning around with a radiant smile on her lips. "Why didn't you simply ask me to stop in the first place?" she challenged him with a laugh.

Sirius dismounted his steed, approaching her cautiously. He lifted his arms to her waist and brought her down to the ground. As he was about to kiss her, a pack of wolves descended upon James in stag form. Remus jumped out of the woods as a wolf himself to fend them off, but he was too late.

"James!" Sirius cried out in desperation. He sat straight up in bed, grasping for his wand. He struggled to catch his breath.

"Damn it," he muttered, rubbing his tired eyes. Years in Azkaban lent themselves to strange dreams, and they never got easier, even seeming to grow more absurd as of late. His thoughts drifted to his godson, and how Harry was increasingly dealing with the Dark Lord's visions as he rested. Sirius wished he could take it all on himself and spare Harry the terror. Hell, he wished he could kill the Dark Lord himself. If anger were a weapon, Sirius would have enough to slay Voldemort dead. Sirius literally could not live one shred of life while the Dark Lord remained, as the Ministry saw fit to make Sirius its scapegoat rather than admitting to Voldemort's existence.

The sun was coming up over the horizon. One day was bleeding into the next; most of the time he had no knowledge of what day it was. He dressed and had breakfast, fed Buckbeak and Rhiannon's birds, then went to tend the garden. Today was destined to be just another day until the front door swung open to reveal Professor McGonagall, alone, no other members of the Order with her. Sirius still had dirt on his hands from clearing the dried weeds from the flower bed, but he hurried to meet her nonetheless.

"Is everything alright, Minerva?"

"Wash your hands and come with me, Sirius."

"Rhiannon— is she safe? Harry?"

"They are fine, Sirius. Just come with me. We only have a short window of time."

Sirius promptly obeyed, feeling a grin spread across his face. It was the most exciting thing that had happened in weeks, and he didn't even know exactly what it was. He scrubbed his hands clean and followed Minerva to the front of Grimmauld Place.

"I've asked Dumbledore to lift restrictions over the Forbidden Forest to allow us to apparate there, but we only have two minutes. You will wait for me there. I will bring Miss Aspenfell to you with the aid of a certain artifact belonging to Harry Potter, loaned with his consent. You will have 20 minutes, and you mustn't leave the forest. We will pray the creatures spare you. We should arrive at the beginning of second period classes— Dumbledore is covering mine today since I've suddenly fallen 'ill.' You and Miss Aspenfell owe him your gratitude— he does not like this risk at all."

"Absolutely, yes," Sirius agreed. "Thank you, Minerva."

Before she could respond, they were off, landing just within the forest. By the light of the beautiful autumn day, it didn't feel quite so Forbidden— not that a Gryffindor like himself cared much for such rules. Minerva transformed into cat form and bolted toward the castle. Sirius laid back against the trunk of a tree, basking in the sun as it filtered through the soft orange and gold fall leaves above. This was worth the risk. Every bit of it.

Within five minutes the brown leaves on the ground began to rustle. Sirius smiled when he felt Rhiannon curl up next to him. She cast the invisibility cloak aside.

"You're beautiful," he breathed, caressing her hair as his eyes took her in. She wore a low cut blue-grey dress with gold trim, her hair down and straight save for a single braid she had entwined with a red and gold satin scarf.

"Sirius, I've missed you so much." Tears filled her green eyes and spilled over as she spoke.

"Shhh, my love. I'm here." He kissed her forehead, her nose, both of her cheeks. She sobbed into his shoulder, completely overcome with emotion.

"Has Snape hurt you?" His tone grew dark and he felt his blood boil at the thought.

Rhiannon shook her head, her face buried in his neck. "No. Not at all. I just didn't realize how empty I was without you until you were here." Her gentle hand rubbed his chest through the plaid shirt he had thrown on this morning for gardening.

"Sorry for the farmer look," he said with a grin. "If I had known I would be meeting m'lady today, I would have dressed for the occasion."

She laughed through the last of her tears. "You are literally the most gorgeous man I've ever seen, Sirius Black, no matter what you wear."

He was beaming inside and out as he leaned in to kiss her, filled with ecstasy at the beating of the sun, the smell of the earth, the taste of her mouth. For that moment in time he was living life again. He grasped her hand in his, his thumb stroking the woven band he had given her, reveling in the reminder that someday she would truly be his. Rhiannon pulled back suddenly, her smile dropping, her tone low.

"Sirius, we don't have much time, and we need to talk."

"Those are never good words to hear, are they? May I propose we continue snogging instead?"

She shook her head solemnly. "Sirius, my father is looking for me. He doesn't know who I am, but he showed Severus a picture of me two nights ago and threatened to hurt him if he didn't figure out my identity."

"What?! Tell Snivellus if he reports one damn thing about you to Lord Voldy, I won't just hurt, I will kill."

Rhiannon sighed. "Sirius, don't say that. Severus won't tell him the truth. But apparently when I was attacked in New Orleans it was to steal a necklace my mother had given me. The Dark Lord wants its power. And he has discovered our friends' presence there. It has gotten dangerous very quickly, for all of us. Minerva made it clear to me that I have to go along with whatever the Order's plans are to keep us safe."

Sirius nodded. "Of course. Dumbledore will keep you safe, until I can. You must listen to him."

Rhiannon hesitated, sitting up straight. She took both his hands in hers. "Sirius, listen to me. Minerva warned me that part of their plans may involve keeping us apart...permanently."

"What? That's absurd. You heard Dumbledore at our engagement party; he was delighted over our union. I'm sure that hasn't changed." Sirius couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was like the world was suddenly spinning off its axis.

"I don't know what he's going to do," Rhiannon continued. "I just know I was warned to be prepared, and I wanted to be the one to warn you. Not just disappear, leaving you wondering what happened."

"I am not following," Sirius said slowly and with an incredulous laugh. "Why would you disappear? How is anything changing from its previous arrangement?" He could feel an anxiety building that he hated. Nothing was permanent anymore.

Rhiannon drew him to her with a tight hug, her hand buried in his hair. "All I know is what they've told me to prepare for, Sirius. Just know that I love you, no matter what. I need you to promise me you won't doubt it."

Sirius studied her for any sign of what was actually happening. Rhiannon looked as confused, nervous, and helpless as he did. He kissed her gently. "I love you, too. I can't see the end in sight, but I can tell you that the only end where I find happiness is the one with you." He closed his eyes and kissed her more deeply, his hands roaming her not so much to turn either of them on— he knew there was no time for that— but to remember her. Every curve, every micro-movement she made when he touched every part of her.

They were interrupted by a small but insistent "meow," Minerva obviously deciding she was less awkwardly intrusive in feline form. Sirius's first instinct was to transform into Padfoot and run before he could possibly be held captive again, but he knew his choice was not his own.

"Last chance to find an island somewhere and forget this whole thing?" Sirius joked half-heartedly, lifting Rhiannon to her feet. "Buckbeak could take us. He's done it before."

Minerva-cat hissed.

"You don't know how much I wish it were that easy," Rhiannon replied.

Sirius nodded. "Christmas, then. I may start decorating today. It will look like the damn North Pole by the time it actually rolls around." He gave her one last kiss before she donned the invisibility cloak again. Minerva-cat watched him with keen yellow eyes, making sure he apparated before she left. He did so reluctantly, back to Grimmauld Place and back to dreaming of a future that no longer seemed so certain.