Chapter title from "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac
"Where are your thoughts?"
"What do you mean?" Rhiannon's fingers traced the curves of Severus's chest in a pattern— slow, deliberate, repeated— feeling the warm, smooth skin transition every so often into the roughness of a scar or a small scattering of black hair. His strong arm cradled her securely against his side. She stared into the flame of the candle on which she'd carved the "Memory" rune before they'd fallen into bed.
"You were trying to conjure something the entire time. It seemed painful."
Rhiannon knew Severus could easily invade her mind and answer his own question without even bringing it up. But he obviously wanted to give her the chance to talk through it. She wasn't even sure what it was she needed to talk through; that was the reason she'd chosen that particular rune in the first place.
"I just...I was trying to remember if I ever saw signs, with my mother. Or felt her pain."
Severus was silent. She could hear his heartbeat in the stillness of their bedroom, a steady rhythm that made her grateful and helped to still her mind.
"I'm sure you saw signs," Severus finally said. "And equally sure that you purposely don't remember them. Believe me, the fewer you remember, the better."
"I wish you had known her," Rhiannon sighed. "I know it's impossible to ever think of my father falling for someone, even for one night. But if you met her you'd understand."
"I don't have to meet her," Severus replied. "I've met you, and that tells me enough."
"She was really beautiful," Rhiannon continued. "Thick, beautiful golden curls. Truly ethereal eyes— blue green. Almost like if my eyes melded with Colleen's. They shimmered like a mermaid's tail. She was curvier than me— more womanly, stronger. And she could run— like a horse. She just charged when she took off. So graceful and sure of herself."
"How did she die?" Severus asked quietly. She was surprised he'd never asked her before or attempted to take the answer from her.
"Uterine cancer. It hit quickly. There was hardly any time after we found out. She was younger than you are now when she died."
"I'm sorry."
"Me too. But I like to think she had a happy life, overall. She loved helping everyone that came seeking a spell or a blessing of good fortune. Loved asking about where they were from, learning about all the places they'd been and why they were visiting New Orleans. She never left, you know. Born and raised there. But she met so many people that she told their stories to others as if they were her own. It's a game she would play. I know that sounds awful, lying like that. But she and I would laugh about it and talk every morning about who we would pretend to be that day." Rhiannon felt a bit of excitement as a memory finally began to firm up in her mind.
"She'd say, 'I think I'll be Sara from Sedona today.' And then Sara from Sedona would talk about the dry desert air and the lonesome gas stations with their rusted old tanks on a dusty dirt road. Cacti, painted sunsets...things she'd never seen, only heard about from visitors. Then Sara from Sedona would sell a woman a charm or a massage oil guaranteed to rekindle her marriage and send the smiling woman on her way. Later that night, the woman's husband might come back, having watched the whole exchange while perusing the shelves of voodoo knickknacks. And that's of course when 'Sara' would use her real magic. And that's how we survived— terrible as it sounds." Rhiannon paused. "I wonder who she was...when she was with him?"
Severus gently lifted her aside and reached for his wand. He bid a drawer open and sent a few papers flying until he found what he wanted, then allowed it to flutter onto the bed. He intercepted it before she could.
"I found this, in Dumbledore's files," he said solemnly. "I wasn't sure if you'd want to see it. I know with my own mother, I prefer to keep most everything buried."
Rhiannon's eyes grew wide. "What is it, Severus?"
He turned it over somewhat reluctantly, and she gasped, taking it from him immediately. There in a photograph was her mother Epona, more beautiful than Rhiannon had ever seen her, and a man with dark hair and an imposing mouth, dressed in a high collared black jacket. Scrawled on the back was simply "December 1975."
"He looked this handsome in 1975?" Rhiannon said curiously. "I thought you said he would have already been disfigured by Dark Magic by then?"
"There are certain dark spells one can use to take on a more attractive appearance. Obviously it wasn't Polyjuice, as you can still see his distinctive features. The spells only last a few hours, and they are indeed very dark. It's said that older vampires, those that were turned as older humans, utilize them to regain their youthful appeal in order to attract victims. But they aren't exclusive to the blood-sucking set, even though they developed them. Any witch or wizard dabbling in the Dark Arts could use them, if they choose."
"Do you think that's why I can do the vampire magic? Turning tears into diamonds? Because he was using a vampire spell when I was conceived?" Rhiannon leaned up eagerly, pleased to have possibly solved the mystery of her unique ability.
"It stands to reason," Severus replied.
"I wonder why he doesn't do that magic now?" Rhiannon mused aloud.
Severus shrugged. "He doesn't need to bother. He largely has the power he desires already, and he doesn't need to attract anyone in order to have control over them."
"Strange that he allowed their picture to be taken. I wonder if she had him hypnotized." Rhiannon giggled, still studying the two faces that made her own. In spite of her father's stern countenance in the photo, they truly looked like ordinary people. Exquisite, of course, but not magical, divine, or supernatural. Just people. It was a bit surprising, given the gravity they both held over her own sense of self and that which her father held over the world.
"How could he truly have no idea who I am?" Rhiannon whispered disbelievingly. "He sent that Death Eater to New Orleans to find the gris gris, and he did, on a girl that's so obviously a mix of these two faces, and the proper age. And then he meets me, sees me in person, and still suspects nothing?"
"He's lost his capacity to feel, my love. He only thinks, and even his thoughts are a whirling dervish of madness. He remembers your mother; he talked about her to me, but none of the feelings, if there were any. And people aren't people to him; he looks at you and sees nothing that truly makes you you. He sees you as an energy that he wants to possess. He doesn't care where that energy comes from or why he feels it, he only wants to harness it for his own gain. So he doesn't suspect, simply because he doesn't care."
Rhiannon set the photo on the bedside table and snuggled back into Severus, drawing the duvet over them so high it enveloped them like a dark emerald tent. She raised her hand to his cheek and cupped his face to kiss him softly. "And that's why we've already won," she told him confidently. "Because we can still feel."
"Push, Bella," Narcissa coaxed, wiping sweat from her own brow that rivaled her sister's, just from the stress of playing midwife.
"I am pushing, you blonde twit! How is there no spell to just blast this damn thing out of me?"
"There are potions to make everything easier, but with your advanced age and your fragile condition, Rhiannon said..."
"Fuck Rhiannon! Give me my wand!"
Narcissa ignored the request, but looked up at Rhiannon with an exasperated sigh. "Rhiannon, can you please brew her a potion for some relief? There has to be something."
Rhiannon shook her head firmly, slipping another towel into cool water and handing it to Narcissa. "Severus said no. It's too risky for the baby with all the issues Bella's had these last few months."
Bellatrix's dark brown eyes flashed with malice. "Tell that slimy snake that when I get out of this bed, I will trample him with the heel of my boot! Smash his skull! Put out his eye!"
"We understand, Bella," Narcissa interrupted.
"Severus is only thinking about the well-being of the Dark Lord's child," Rhiannon reminded the witches coolly. "That is, after all, the most important factor. Yes? Ensuring the health and safety of his bloodline?"
Bellatrix's thunder seemed to subside into a subdued rumble as she contemplated the honor in such suffering. It was February 14th, and Lord Voldemort's second daughter was coming six weeks early. They'd summoned Rhiannon to Malfoy Manor around five in the morning via owl. She and Severus were lucky they had chosen to sleep at Hogwarts the night before and were able to receive the message. It had been well over a month since the huge conflict at the house, and while they had not argued again since, they also hadn't consummated their extraneous romantic relationships any further. It had proved difficult to rekindle after such a dramatic confrontation, and the greater complications of war made it easy for such things to take a backseat.
Prior to the winter holidays, their news had come from the Quibbler more than the Prophet, a fact they'd had trouble warming up to at first given the tabloid-like reputation of the Lovegood periodical. But with the Prophet under Ministry control, the questionable publication became one of the last vestiges of truth. In the course of her visits to Malfoy Manor, Rhiannon learned that sweet Luna herself had been taken on her journey from Hogwarts in December and was now held captive just below where Rhiannon stood now. Lucius tended to hang around the entrance to the dungeons whenever Rhiannon was present, so sneaking down to check on poor Luna had been impossible so far.
Luna's father had been so beside himself when she was taken by Snatchers that he'd agreed to publish pro-Voldemort propaganda in the Quibbler's pages to keep her safe from harm. This made Potterwatch now officially the only source for truth. But with the Order members so isolated from one another and under such dire threats, obtaining news to broadcast at all was not easy. Remus relied on reports from Severus for much of it, but he and Sirius had to take utmost care not to make their source obvious. Rhiannon could feel their grip on victory loosening each and every day as the tides turned more in the Death Eaters' favor.
But Rhiannon refused to give up. She still felt drawn to the seeds of victory they had planted with their magic, and to some mystical assurance she that spoke to her, telling her it would be all right in the end.
Hour by agonizing hour, Bellatrix labored, shrieked, writhed, and seethed. Rhiannon was no stranger to childbirth, having grown up in a brothel. She'd watched her mother tend to her friends often, since the women couldn't afford the expense of medical care and often chose home births assisted by folk magic. Still, even in the height of crowning and pain, those women were more agreeable than Bellatrix, who seemed to lack even the most basic motherly instinct. Her contractions were about two minutes apart now, and the birth of Rhiannon's sister was imminent. The Thunderbird witch had decided she would focus on the baby's energy and birthing a beautiful spirit, which would keep her own spirits high in the midst of Bella's insults and threats. After all, the baby girl was blameless and pure, and she deserved the best chance at life possible.
"She has a beautiful head of dark hair!" Rhiannon announced with a smile.
"Good!" Bellatrix snapped, catching her breath between pushes. "Maybe she won't be an idiot like the two of you!"
"Blonde jokes? Really, Bella?" It was nearly noon, and Narcissa was near the end of her rope.
But as Bellatrix gave one last scream and push, Rhiannon gasped. The glimmer of dark hair Rhiannon had seen was merely one color in the mystical tangle of silver, black, and blue tresses that adorned her baby sister's head. Her hair was like the sheen on the wings of a raven, grackle, or augurey— mysterious and multi-faceted. Rhiannon caught the tiny baby and wrapped her in the cashmere blanket Narcissa had provided, green and embroidered with Salazar Slytherin's mark.
"Let me see her!" Bellatrix demanded, and Rhiannon hurried to the witch's side with a smile. The baby squawked, her face wrinkly and messy and demanding, but still so precious that Rhiannon wanted to press her nose to the tiny face and nuzzle her all day long. Bellatrix placed one long, pointed fingernail atop the blanket and peered at her daughter, a look of appraisal overtaking the witch's cold but lovely features.
"Should we summon him, Bella?" Narcissa asked as she began the rather unbecoming task of cleaning up.
"No!" Bella barked. "I will wait until he returns of his own accord. We will not interrupt him. Now, cut this disgusting thing off! Rhiannon!"
Rhiannon was horrified at first, until she realized Bellatrix was talking about the umbilical cord and not the child. "It's best to leave the cord on for a bit, Bella," Rhiannon said carefully. "Just a few minutes. You should try to nurse her right away. Shall I help?"
"I'll do it later. I want to rest. Don't you have something you can give her?" Bellatrix never took the baby from Rhiannon's arms. Rhiannon's mind was wandering wildly. Had her own mother been this despondent in those first few moments, with her father long gone?
"Yes, Lucius had Severus consult with Madame Pomfrey to build our stores," Narcissa said quickly. "We have something to give her if you'd like to wait." Narcissa took out her wand and cut the cord as Bella commanded, then Rhiannon took the baby and began cleaning her with the infused water she and Severus had prepared.
"Hello, little bird," Rhiannon murmured with a smile. She was met with tiny slits of eyes that seemed almost violet, and more tiny, staccato squawks. Once the soft skin was clean, Rhiannon bent to kiss the sweet little cheeks and ran a hand through the shimmery silver blue hair, reveling in the pure magic that was her newborn sister. She wanted nothing more than to bring this beautiful bundle back with her to Scotland. The thought of leaving her in this stone cold house with its even colder inhabitants was heartbreaking. Rhiannon found herself picturing how Colleen's face would melt with love and delight, and how excited Ben would be to have a baby in the house.
Stop it, Rhiannon scolded herself. She couldn't continue with this line of thinking. The baby wasn't hers, in any way.
"What's her name?" Rhiannon asked, swaddling the little one and nestling her close. Bellatrix didn't answer, having already fallen back with closed eyes against the pillows. Rhiannon understood to a degree; her labor had been long and taxing. But it seemed if Rhiannon had such a strong desire to hold and breathe in the sweet baby girl, her mother ought to as well.
"She's going to call her Delphini," Narcissa answered. "After the constellation Delphinus. Obviously she was hoping for a boy to use that name, but Delphini will have to do."
"It's a beautiful name," Rhiannon commented. "I do love your family's naming tradition, with the constellations and the myths."
"And you fit right in, 'goddess' Rhiannon," Narcissa remarked. "Tell me. What is your story, really? Do you truly hold some sort of divine power like the Dark Lord claims?" Her eyes leveled with Rhiannon's with clear expectation of the truth. The two witches had never been close, but they had spent time together chatting last year when Rhiannon was trying to ascertain Draco's mysterious mission. As far as the Dark Lord's minions went, Narcissa was probably the most tolerable, but her poker face was such that one could never trust her. You would never know the hand she was dealt or how she planned on playing it. The woman was a true wild card.
"I don't know," Rhiannon answered, checking hesitantly to make sure Bellatrix was truly asleep.
"But you're content to let the Dark Lord think you do," Narcissa said quietly. "I cannot fault you for that."
"We do what we have to, to survive in this world," Rhiannon carefully agreed.
"Yes." Narcissa folded her hands in her lap, her posture still and statuesque. "Will you come back and visit soon? Help take care of the baby? I have a feeling Bella will be back in battle within a few days' time. And the care of the infant will fall to me. I could use..."
"Yes," Rhiannon said quickly. "I'll come back as my schedule at the school allows." She was grateful for the chance to lay eyes upon the infant and ensure her safety, as well as bring some warmth and love into the child's life. She stood with her baby sister and placed her in Narcissa's arms. "Take good care of her, okay?"
Narcissa nodded silently, and Rhiannon took leave before Bellatrix could wake up and demand her presence any further.
"Ah, Rhiannon," Lucius greeted her as soon as she'd closed the bedroom door. "Do we have news to celebrate?"
"Indeed," Rhiannon replied, descending the staircase before he could detain her. "The Dark Lord has a daughter."
"Wonderful! You should join me for a drink to commemorate the occasion."
"I have a commitment elsewhere."
"But it's Saturday! Hogwarts can do without you long enough to enjoy a celebratory glass, don't you think?" Lucius caught up to her quickly and slid a hand around her elbow.
"My commitment is with my husband," Rhiannon added flatly.
"Indeed it is," a voice from downstairs confirmed. Rhiannon sighed with relief at the timing and freed herself from Lucius's grip, hurrying to Severus's side.
"Ah, Severus. Making yourself quite at home, I see?" Lucius said testily. "I know common courtesies sometimes escape you, but knocking and doorbells are a rather standard and elementary custom."
"Didn't want to wake the baby," Severus replied, not missing a beat. "Assuming she has arrived?"
"Yes, and she's beautiful," Rhiannon told him happily. "A tiny, radiant orb of magic, Severus." She squeezed his arm as his dark eyes met hers, and she found herself suddenly struck with the desire to meet the magic they would someday create together. Severus gave her a slightly raised eyebrow, obviously in tune immediately with the intensity of the thought that had suddenly consumed her.
"Lucius, congratulations on the new addition to your family," Severus said abruptly. And with that he whisked Rhiannon outside and down the front lawn of Malfoy Manor before Lucius had a chance to respond.
"I want to help her, Severus," Rhiannon told him emphatically. "I told Narcissa I would keep coming back, but I feel like this baby is going to need a lot from us. She isn't lucky like I was. I had a mother who adored me. Bellatrix is in this for the accolades and the status it buys her. I can tell she won't show Delphi any affection."
"Delphi?"
"Well, Delphini."
"Already have a nickname for her, I see." Severus gave her a small smile and squeezed her hand as they apparated along one of their complex trails designed to allude detection.
"How do you think he'll take the news?" Rhiannon asked him quietly, their boots crunching on the packed snow along the path to their home.
"I'm not sure she'll tell him until he's done with Potter," Severus answered honestly. "That would be the most prudent approach, anyway. He will take it better in the mindset of victory."
"But how will he take it, then?"
"Hard to say, Rhiannon. It's impossible to know how someone with no capacity to feel would interpret such an event. Bellatrix is bold to assume that he will consider this an exaltation rather than an annoyance."
"Do you think knowing about me would have changed anything at all?" Rhiannon tried not to sound wistful, but she knew she was rather terrible at hiding such things, especially from Severus.
He turned to face her before reaching their front door, taking her hands in his. Their warmth transferred to one another through the winter cold. "I think I am glad that everything happened the way it did," he said firmly. "And I think it doesn't do to dwell on possibilities that were long ago extinguished."
Rhiannon laughed a little at his non-answer, knowing he had her best interest in mind with his thoughtful evasiveness, as always. He was so good at shutting off her forays into destructive, self-indulgent thinking. But there was still a heaviness within her chest, suddenly attached to everything that made her who she was. And with that heaviness came a longing for the strength and love of her companions to help her lift its burden.
They entered into the foyer to deposit their coats, then Rhiannon started up the steps. After their brief moment of shared understanding at the Manor, she expected Severus to follow her to the bedroom. When he didn't, she looked at him inquisitively.
"Where are you going, Severus?"
He gave her a rather impish smile. "To get the Blacks, of course."