Within the Wings of a Storm

When You Build Your House, Then Call Me Home

A "feel-good" chapter that gives more of a nod to canon OOTP.

Switching songs! Chapter title is from "Sara" by Fleetwood Mac
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It was the night of August 2nd, and Rhiannon was once again in the library with her three birds, alternating between her attention to their happy chirping and the sixth year potions book she had found high atop one of the bookshelves in the Black library. It had Sirius's name scrawled on the inside cover, and it was was one of the very few volumes there not falling apart. It appeared as though it had barely been touched. Rhiannon had laughed upon discovering it, remembering Snape's comment about her lover's attention issues during the class. It all made perfect sense— Sirius was much too lively and physical to exceed in Potions. Rhiannon understood— it was her only less-than-stellar mark on her E.A.G.L.Es, for that same reason. She figured she better get a head start on studying so hopefully Professor Snape's assessment of her own skills would be a bit more forgiving.

Rhiannon had spent more and more time alone in the library over the past week, as the meetings of the Order of the Phoenix had become more and more frequent. She understandably was not allowed to attend the meetings; she'd only known everyone for less than a month, her magical education rendered her the equivalent of a rising fifth year, and of course the unfortunate fact of her parentage. Sirius of course requested for her to attend, being the open book that he was, but the answer from the others was a resounding no. He had kissed the top of her head gently and assured her that she would be a member someday, promising to fill her in if anything concerned her safety or decisions for her future. And he always did — Sirius shone when it came to being thoughtful, attentive to her feelings, and responsive to her needs. He was the perfect boyfriend and perfect gentleman.

Hermione Granger, Ron and Ginny's friend from school, had arrived to Grimmauld Place about a week earlier, officially transferring Rhiannon into Sirius's room so Hermione could share the lower level room with Ginny. Rhiannon loved spending nights with him now instead of just random trysts, curled in his warm embrace, incredibly safe and cared for. She had never really felt that way before. Sometimes the tables would turn though; Sirius would wake up frantically from a nightmare about Azkaban. Rhiannon would hold him and smooth his hair until his racing heart calmed down. Each night that they grew closer together, and each day that the reality of Hogwarts inched nearer, the delicate balance of excitement and sadness seemed to shift. Rhiannon was going to miss him desperately.

Sirius had shared with her that one of the Order's growing concerns was the terrifying army Lord Voldemort was assimilating— not just winning wizards and witches to his side but all manner of magical creatures with the power to destroy. In addition the Ministry had begun to mount a smear campaign challenging the Order's cause, denying Voldemort's return and discrediting Sirius's godson Harry as a liar and a disruptor of the peace. Rhiannon saw this for herself as she poured through the house's discarded editions of The Daily Prophet, trying her best to understand the ins and outs of this new world. Harry Potter was on almost every front page, the words scathing and the propaganda strong.

Sirius hated this. Rhiannon had learned that he held the magical gift of the Animagi— able to turn himself into a large, curly-haired black dog at will. But whenever Sirius read something that insulted or threatened Harry, he seemed more like an angry bear.

The attendees at the multiple Order meetings varied. Of course Lupin had been absent from some, while the moon was full. Dumbledore rarely attended. In fact, she recalled only seeing him once. He didn't speak to her, but did acknowledge her presence with a warm, grandfatherly smile.

The same could not be said for Professor Snape, who had attended two meetings since his visit to deliver the potions. Each time, including tonight, he had whizzed past Rhiannon in a billowing cloud of black, his gaze straight ahead at the dining room doorway, never looking in her direction. All manner of feeling in her body still pooled in her center whenever he was within the vicinity, and she still hated it. She had begun trying to discipline in her mind in preparation for her upcoming journey to Hogwarts, actively trying to segment her normal self from the persona he seemed to create within her. She would have to channel that strength in her dealings with him, because she refused to let him keep his upper hand. She was not a child; she was a woman — a witch, and a naturally powerful one. Severus Snape would have to respect that for their arrangement to have any chance at success.