And when suddenly there were two wands pointed at her, her stomach dropped. She knew that they used those for magic, and neither of them looked happy at all. In her mind, it didn't bode well. It meant there could be pain, there could be a fight. She could bear being hurt and hit, but to see people she liked fighting, that was the worst. Because she knew there was nothing at all she could do to stop them. She simply wasn't strong enough.

Her wings pressed close to her back, her body shook. Even as they greeted her, she couldn't do anything but stare, unable to do anything about the fear that was overtaking her body. She shouldn't be afraid of them, she knew, but it was so hard. Shouting men, the hateful atmosphere. It was so familiar, too familiar. All she could see was the whorehouse, the men chasing her down, Heine being shot out a window. The scream she wanted to let out but couldn't.

Reality hit her as Sirius' tone changed, and she was able to bring herself back to the church, back to what was really going on. She forced her wings to extend, stretch, and relax. She forced herself to nod and offer her friend a smile. Heine said it, sometimes: That girl is sharper than you think. She knew what Sirius wanted to see then, and that was what she gave him. She just hoped he would believe it.