The Guardian

Disclaimer- the Potterverse and all the gorgeous men in it belong to JKR, I just like to play a little.

Chapter 13
Grimmuald Place and all that it entails.

The morning had passed quickly, hugs and promises to visit and write had been exchanged even a few tears. Remus had smiled sadly as he hugged her whispering a promise to visit in her ear. They had waited for Snape before appariting to a small park in London and walking to the hidden number twelve Grimmuald Place.
Rhiannon looked around in surprise; the place was… she didn’t have the words to describe what the house looked like.
“I believe it’s gotten worse.” Snape mumbled staring at the spider webs covering the windows. “I’m going to find a room.” They listened to his footsteps as he went up the stairs. He was pissed that Dumbledore had held to his orders. Although how one could tell pissed Snape from regular Snape was anyone’s guess.
“You actually live here?” Rhiannon asked after blowing the top layer of dust off a table.
Sirius sighed “I suppose you could call it living. I tend to think of it as moving from one prison to another.” That was defiantly understandable.
She looked into one of the rooms off the hall, “Are those house elves?” She pointed to a row of disembodied heads. Who the hell hangs elf heads on their wall?
“Yes, we tried to get them down but…” He waved at them absently.
“They’re hideous.” She waved her hand at them, there was a loud crack and they all fell to the ground, dust filling the room and making her sneeze.
“Hey how’d you do that?” He walked over and picked one up amazed that they’d just fallen down. She just shrugged and turned to go up the stairs.
“What room is mine?” She yelled back from one flight up. The screeching started in an instant making Rhiannon clamp her hands over her ears and duck. The thud of footsteps could hardly be heard over the horrible noise.
“What the hell, who woke her up?” Snape yelled from the top of the stairs.
“Shut up you bloody hag!” Sirius was yelling from her right while fighting with an old curtain and losing.
“Muggle lovers! How dare you allow such filth into my home! You are no son of mine! I should have drowned you at birth.” The voice was screaming.
“I said shut up!” The curtain snapped shut silencing the screaming.
“What was that?” Rhiannon whispered when Sirius crouched down beside her.
“That was me mum.” He hissed looking at the ratty curtain. “Kind of forgot to tell you not to yell in the hall, or walk too loudly.”
“Let me guess wouldn’t come down either?” She stepped carefully around it.
“Nope, care to try what you did with the House elves?” He looked hopeful.
She looked at the curtain and waved her hand mumbling the same spell, nothing happened. She repeated it a couple times still nothing happened.
“For Merlin’s sake don’t wake her back up.” Snape hissed from above them.
“Oh go pout in your room Severus.” She snapped. His attitude was getting on her nerves.
Snape glared at her but moved back down the hall.
“How do you get him to do that?” Sirius asked.
“Practice.”
They walked down a long dingy hall; the carpet was so worn she could see the bare floor underneath. There were large windows in each of the rooms they passed, but the glass was so caked in dust and grime that very little light filtered in. She walked into a room near the end of the hall, the large windows were covered by ratty mud colored curtains that hung haphazardly from ugly metal poles with what looked like shrunken heads on the ends. She rubbed the dirt from part of the window and looked around. They were shrunken heads. She looked around, the walls may have been painted green at one time but most of it had peeled off. The bed curtains had also been green before most of them had turned gray and something had chewed large holes through them. The only other piece of furniture was a small table, missing a leg and the front of the drawer.
“This was supposed to be the nursery when my brother and I were born, but my mother didn’t want to be disturbed by crying in the middle of the night. My father used the room after my brother was born, I don’t know that he and mother ever shared bed after that.” Sirius moved the table warily. “We found a lot of creepy crawlies in the other rooms; looks like this one remained mostly untouched.”
“Is that the backyard?” she asked looking down onto a surprisingly green stretch of grass and colorful flowers. A small pond reflected the light from the afternoon sun.
“Yeah, the kids planted it when they were here last summer. The Wesley’s wanted part of the burrow here; I think they thought I’d be more comfortable if I had something nice to look at when they were gone.” He was gazing out over her shoulder. She liked his scent, it was warm and comforting. She recognized the cologne he wore, it made her blood rush and her cheeks flush, but she couldn't remember the name of it. Or maybe it was his natural scent underneath it something dark and heady. He was still wearing the borrowed shirt and jeans, the shirt opened halfway down his chest, showing off his tattoos. She had the sudden desire to trace them with her fingertips, see just how mush of his body was covered with the intricate little drawings. She shook her head trying to push the thoughts out of her mind. What the hell? It wouldn’t do to get involved with him, after things had calmed down again she’d go back to the states. Maybe she’d get a cat or two, or ten and become the crazy cat lady and live in a little house in a quiet neighborhood all alone. Her wrist started burning. Apparently the Elders didn’t like that idea; she rubbed gently at the tattoo under her sleeve.

Sirius’s thoughts were following much the same path as Rhiannon’s but neither knew it. His fingers itched to play with her braid the same way Remus had last night. The Honey color was intriguing; he could see lighter streaks on top, and some darker strands woven through the long braid. He wondered what it would be like to have those tresses loose and spread across his pillow. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with her scent. She smelled like linens and Irish Cream again. He’d seen her sipping at a large coffee cup this morning the contents smelling strangely like the whisky she’d drank after dinner. Remus had whispered that she was pretty much useless before her first cup of the heavily sugared brew.
He turned his attention to her body. Rhiannon was standing in front of him, not a breath away, she barely reached his shoulder with healed boots, he liked that she was so small. She was rubbing absently at her wrist; he’d noticed her do that repeatedly both last night and this morning, had wondered what was wrong with it. “You okay?” He asked smiling when she shivered.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She tugged on the sleeve of her black jumper. It was cut low in the front giving his a nice view of her ample chest. Her jeans were once again well worn, with holes torn in both knees and a large slice across the back of one of her legs giving him just a glimpse of creamy thigh. He could see the dark lines of a tattoo where the hem of her jumper didn’t meet her pants and desperately wanted to know what it was of. With out warning she turned around, bumping into him.
“Oh sorry.” She smiled softly; her cheeks were rosy making him wonder what she had been thinking.
“That’s okay. Why do you wear those glasses?”
She shrugged, “Most people find my eyes a bit creepy so I prefer to keep them hidden.”
He gently pushed the glasses up and gasped. Her eyes were strange, almost white but still blue. He loved them they were so unique. “They’re…” He searched for the right word.
“I know, creepy.” She was looking at his chin.
“No beautiful, intense, I don’t know but not creepy.”
She grinned softly; he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her. Just a quick brush of his lips over hers. They were so soft, like flower petals. He felt something spark, racing along his skin and through his blood. What was that? That had never happened before. He wondered if she had felt it too, almost like when you drag your feet across the carpet and touch a door knob. He glanced down quickly making sure they were both still wearing shoes. They were. That was interesting. What the hell did that mean?
“I’m going to go…” He pointed in the general direction of the door and rushed out.
“She’s your best friend’s girl… She’s your best friend’s girl… She’s your best friend’s girl…” He repeated over and over as he paced his bedroom just next door to hers.
“What the hell was he going to do?”

Rhiannon could hear him pacing and mumbling to himself and guessed his room was probably next door. She touched her lips; she had felt the spark also. Even read the confusion in his eyes. Such deep eyes, so gray they reminded her of a winter sky right before it snows.
He hadn’t found her eyes creepy, only Remus had ever told her they were beautiful before. Her parents and Athena didn’t count; they had to say nice things about her. She smiled, wanting to talk to her old friend. Athena had always understood what she was feeling better than she herself did. She rubbed her wrist as she debated about sending her friend an owl. The pain increased until she tugged up her sleeve and glared at the tattoo, some of the lines had moved. “Is this your idea of a joke?” She glared at the ceiling. “Of course it is.”
She looked around the room, it was depressing. The windows would have to be the first thing cleaned. “Scourgify!” She held her hand out to the window, light quickly flooded the room showing just how dismal it was. The dust motes danced in the sunbeams making her sneeze violently. How could anyone live here? She wondered.
It took the better part of an hour to get the room clean enough that she stopped sneezing. The carpet, or what was left of it, was rolled up neatly in the corner. The hardwood floors underneath were beautiful and light. She’d yanked down the curtains from the windows and the bed falling hard on her bum as she did so. Then the bed she transfigured into something a whole lot sturdier with a bright yellow spread. The walls were now lilac with a border of heather. She pulled out everything she’d brought from her tiny apartment in the states. Her dressing table, a comfy arm chair, her mother’s full length mirror, a bookcase full of books, blankets, a couple pictures of her parents, Remus and Athena and all her clothes were put quickly away. With a final snap of her fingers the pile of carpet and drapes disappeared.
She sat down a moment feeling rather grimy, her clothes were dust covered and a new hole had been torn into her jeans. She grabbed some clothes and wandered out to find the bathroom. Maybe a cold shower would erase the feel of Sirius’s lips from her mind.

Snape paced his own room on the top floor of Grimmuald Place. What the hell was he going to do stuck in a house with those two? They were the most irritating people he knew, at least on the side of good. What had Dumbledore been thinking, if he believed they needed adult supervision the old fool could damn well do it himself.
Snape sighed and dropped down into his battered leather chair. Just as Rhiannon had he’d spent a good amount of time cleaning up his room. It was now a smaller replica of his chambers at Hogwarts.
Rhiannon fascinated him, in a way that he was sure she knew about but purposefully ignored. She was pretty, in a creepy morbid sort of way, and she was intelligent. At least he’d be entertained during his time here. He pulled out a book and settled into read, hoping to be left alone.

Dinner was an interesting affair, each fending for their selves as there were very few groceries in the house. Rhiannon had started a shopping list and left it on the counter with a note to her new housemates telling them to write what they needed and leave enough money to cover their requests. The list was quiet lengthy by the next morning. She laughed both men had left a small bag of coins next to the list for her.
She was the first one up, and the best produce was usually grabbed up first so she decided that shopping would be her job in their little arrangement. She walked to the market a few blocks away and bought everything on the list plus a few extras. With the groceries shrunk and loaded into one small bag she wandered down a few of the side streets on her way back to the house. It was still early, only a few business men were walking quickly towards the subway. The sun was burning away the last of the morning fog, the trees filling with the call of birds and small animals. Rhiannon had always found mornings the most peaceful, preferring to wonder the grounds at Hogwarts and later the back allies and bayous of Houston, where she’d finally settled in the states. She’d loved muggle Texas, the sights, the sounds, even the early morning smells. She’d lived down the street from a little family restaurant that made Empanadas every morning and tamales in the afternoons. She’d loved waking up to the sweet smell of bread baking and found she missed it. It was a peaceful walk back, she was confident no one would recognize her as she’d used a subtle glamour. Her hair appeared shorter and darker. Her bust and hips smaller. She expected someone would be looking for her and hoped she’d spot a spy for Lucius. Her optimism paid off when she wandered a bit closer to Kings Cross. A rather large dimwitted man in a business suit was watching the station from a news stand across the street. He kept fidgeting with something shoved up his sleeve and drawing strange looks from the few passengers that spotted him. Moving closer but keeping her head down as though reading a magazine on the stands she read his mind, a low level death eater sent to stake out the station. So they were looking for her, but the man didn’t know what Lucius wanted her for, only that she was important and worth a lot of galleons. She messed with his memory, sifting through his thoughts and giving him an image of her getting on a train to Wales. He’d looked confused for a few seconds before slipping into an ally and appariting. Rhiannon smiled at the merchant running the stand and paid for two magazines before turning quickly back to Grimmuald Place. It was barely eight when she let herself back in the kitchen; she could hear footsteps above her and guessed the guys were getting up. After putting away the groceries she pulled out a few large pans, and bowls, might as well cook some breakfast.

Sirius stumbled down the stairs; he was defiantly not a morning person. Never had been probably never would be. The delicious smell of coffee met him in the hall, followed by the smell of bacon frying. For a second a rather amusing image of Snape wearing a pink frilly apron floated through his mind, making him grin and gag simultaneously. Rhiannon’s door had been shut and warded when he tried it, probably still asleep and freaked out by him kissing her. He sighed what the hell had he been thinking? She was Remus’s girl and they obviously loved each other. But she was so damn beautiful, not in the shiny superficial way. She was more natural, like the girl next door that you don’t expect but there she is wreaking havoc with your senses. He sighed “she’s your best friend’s girl…” He started his new mantra over again. He entered the kitchen and caught the mug of coffee that floated his way.
“Thanks.” He muttered studying Rhiannon as she expertly flipped some eggs into the air.
“How do you like your eggs?” She glanced over her shoulder at him; he noticed her glasses were pushed up on top of her head instead of covering her eyes.
“Um, over medium I guess.”
She nodded and sat the pan down a few seconds before sliding the eggs onto a plate with hash browns and bacon then sending it floating across the room to him.
“Wow you didn’t have to do this, where’d you get the stuff for it anyway?” He slid into a chair and watched as she cracked more eggs and waved a hand at the coffee pot. Another mug hovered in the air a moment before drifting towards the door as Snape walked in. Sirius glared at the two, damn morning people, up and dressed when the sun had just come up.
“The sun was up hours ago and I went to the market.” Rhiannon did her thing with the eggs and sent the plate to Snape. He noticed she hadn’t asked how he took his eggs.
“Sunny side up, my favorite.” The greasy git grinned. How had she known that, Sirius glared.
“I thought we’d all go to the market later.” He pushed the annoyed feeling away and dug in to his plate. The potatoes were crispy with something a bit spicy mixed in them. He’d never tasted anything like it before and said so as Rhiannon sat next to him.
“It’s a secret.” She grinned.
“You keep answering questions when I know I’m not saying anything.”
Snape snorted almost choking himself on a bite. Rhiannon smirked at him and sent a spell across to pound his back. As soon as he calmed down she answered Sirius’s unasked question.
“I can read your mind I suppose. Not all the time but…” She shrugged turning her attention to her plate clearing it quickly.
“Where did you learn to cook like this?” Snape had cleared his plate and was using his wand to fill their coffee cups. Sirius watched Rhiannon pour cream and sugar into hers, the cream is what made it smell like her whisky.
“I can cook more than eggs and hash browns.” She smirked, “I learned in the states, after I left London I bounced around the U.S. for a while working in kitchens. Finally about three years ago I ended up in Houston Texas. Worked in a kitchen in some upscale hotel until Dumbledore called me back here.”
“They taught you to cook like this?” Sirius shoved another forkful in his mouth.
“Yeah.”
“How was the market?” Snape stirred sugar into his cup.
“Nice, got everything on the list. Your change is in your bags. She nodded at the small bags hanging from a shelf by the door. “There was a death eater near Kings Cross.”
Snape looked startled but Sirius reacted first.
“That’s just a few blocks from here. You could have been caught. You aren’t going out alone anymore.” He wasn’t sure why he’d just snapped at her and by the strange looks they were both giving him neither did they.
“I wasn’t planning on wandering around all the time Sirius.” She stood up “I cooked you two wash the dishes.”
Sirius watched her walk up the stairs.
“Lost your touch with the ladies mutt?” Snape smirked at him.
“Shut the hell up Snivellus.” Sirius pointed his wand at the dishes and muttered “Scourgify” then stomped up the stair to his own room.