It wasn't her fault. It was his. It was always his fault, from the very beginning. Still, it didn't matter. It wasn't him that was stuck, trapped in one of the castles many closets. It wasn't him that was an idiot and thought the way led to the common room instead of locking her in behind a wooden door somewhere down a corridor in the middle of an abandoned section of the castle. No, it was her. It was Vivienne.
But it was his fault that she had been so angry with him, she didn't pay attention to where she was going. Silently cursing and chanting a spell under her breath, she quickly lit her wand in order to see around her. As she expected, there was nothing. Vivienne sighed and thought about Dean as she closed her grey eyes and brushed a piece of her waist-length black hair from her face. The jerk. The one who didn't care and was fine admitting it. The guy who…who…well, just because she didn't know exactly what he did, didn't mean Vivienne was wrong for being mad at him. No, it was still his fault.
A sudden burst of rage came like a tidal wave, filling her up until her ears rang with fury at what he had said. With a cry to ease some of the anger, she leapt forward and started banging at the door, hoping someone would be passing and hear her. "Help! Let me out! The stupid little son of a…Please, help! How could he say that to me…I'm trapped! What a jerk…moron…help…lying little…Aurgh!" Tears started to stream down her cheeks in frustration, fury, and pain from banging her hands against the bewitched wood. Vivienne took one last beating until she slid down the door, buried her head between her knees and started sobbing.
She didn't know how long she was waiting behind the door but she did know that she still had tears staining her face when the door opened and she fell forward onto a pair of feet. Her head shot up and met a pair of eyes, hazel, and confused. Vivienne held the gaze of this unsuspecting stranger for while, until he finally spoke, breaking the silence. "Are you alright?" he asked, offering his hand to help her up.
She realized that she still had tears on her now flushed face and wiped them away before accepting his hand and being pulled to her feet. Once she steadied herself, she took anther look at her rescuer. He had untidy black hair, beautiful eyes, and glasses that hid them. He was tall with strong arms. Vivienne recognized him as one of the house team's quidditch players, but she didn't know his name. Apparently, he was a very good player for many students at school always talked about him, though she was hidden from the magical world until she came of age and knew nothing of the sport.
"I…I'm Vivienne." She couldn't say fine. That would have been a lie. So instead, she went on to the next thing that popped in to her mind. "Harry," he countered her introduction. "Are you alright?" He asked again. "Honestly no. But I'm better than I was a little while ago. Thank you." She started off down the hall. She didn't really want to talk, she just wanted to get to bed and sleep. Maybe wash her face and yell at Dean some more in her mind. As the candles flickered on nearby walls, they cast an eerie glow about the area and made shadows dance.
Unfortunately for her, Harry wasn't going to give up easily. "Wait," he cried and ran after her, pulling himself around to face her as she stopped, bedazzled. "I…I mean… you… your welcome". He let out a light laugh and then met her eyes once more. What was he doing? Vivienne didn't even know who he was, yet he seemed to. "I've seen you around the campus. Just walking around, or reading. Writing." He laughed again. Was he trying to be funny, or just laughing because he was crazy?
She just gave him a funny look. It didn't matter, she was still mad. She just didn't want to get upset with him because she was already upset with Dean and was afraid he might upset her enough that she'd actually yell at him. And he seemed like such a nice person too. She kept on her was, walking through to the way she thought was the common room until Harold, or whatever his name was, grabbed her hand and stopped her. Vivienne's head whipped around and her eyes narrowed. She never let anyone touch her, at least not without her approval first. However, she softened her gaze when it met his. He wasn't trying to be perverted, he just wanted to help.
"The Gryffindor common room is the other way." He smiled and led her down the opposite end of the corridor, still holding on to her hand and she tried to figure out exactly what was up with him. He showed no fear, no hesitation. Yet as odd as it was, she liked it. She was used to having the effect of uncertainty among others, but not with him. This boy seemed different.
They walked in this fashion for some time, the boy leading the way while his hand gripped hers as she followed in wonder. After a few minutes, the two reached a well lit corridor, one that Vivienne recognized as to lead to the common room that Harry had promised.
Before they went too far, though, Harry turned around and walked right up to Vivienne. He let go of her hand, brought his to her face, and kissed her. Vivienne just stood there, shocked, until she fell in to the kiss and became weak. "It makes no sense" was her last thought until it was wiped away and replaced by him. They broke apart and Vivienne had to force her eyes open to look back in to his. "I'm sorry," he whispered but she could tell he wasn't actually all that sorry. Instead, she merely smiled and went back to him. "I'm not."