A/N: Hope you all enjoy! :)

Chapter Thirty Two | Surgi tamari aliquid

[Something bitter rises]

Over the next few weeks, Vivian is almost able to forget that there is a war brewing across the country. Everything seems amazingly normal. Dumbledore has yet to call another meeting, there are no other attacks that mar the front page of the Daily Prophet, and life at the cottage is surprisingly calm, with little alterations to take note of. Sirius has been in a fine mood of late, and it's been rubbing off on Vivian. It helps that there aren't any stressful cases at work to deal with. She hasn't had to stay late to wrap up her work or assist Mulciber, which has naturally contributed to her own good mood. Spending more time than is absolutely necessary around Adrian Mulciber is something she avoids whenever possible, especially more recently.

He's been acting strangely around her. His dry, sarcastic commentary has not lessened in the least, but sometimes she catches him glancing her way with an odd expression. So far, she hasn't managed to interpret what it means, but it puts her on edge and makes her feel as though he knows something that he isn't telling her.

This isn't necessarily cause for concern. Adrian doesn't trust her, and he's always done his utmost to make her feel uncomfortable, taking dark amusement in pointing out all the ways she's managed to mess up her life. More recently, this has been focused entirely on her supposed relationship with Regulus and her apparent obsession with the Black family – a topic that, when he sarcastically remarks upon it, never ceases to irritate her. Still, his annoying commentary aside, sometimes he gets a look in his eyes that gives her pause. It's almost a forlorn expression, one that seems to hint at some quiet unease or regretful thought. It always vanishes as quickly as it comes, but she isn't blind to its existence.

She tries her best not to think about him. Instead, she focuses on other things, such as the fact that the weather is fast becoming warm enough to do something about the overgrown garden at the back of the house. This latest project of hers is more of a distraction than anything else, but Vivian finds herself diving into it whenever she has some spare time. Sirius finds it amusing, but she obviously didn't ask for his opinion, thank you.

"Didn't you fail Herbology?" he idly wonders as he leans against the threshold of the back door and watches her magically uprooting a bed of weeds.

She's standing at the edge of the small patio, waving her wand over the tangled growth in hopes of clearing the soil. It had, admittedly, taken her a few tries to get the spell right. Household magic is something she is spectacularly bad at performing.

Sirius's question makes her roll her eyes. His voice is innocent, but she can hear the laughter pressed beneath the surface of his words. She makes sure to send him a look over her shoulder, but it has little effect on him, for he merely raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of his tea.

"I didn't fail. I got an A," she tells him, and waves her wand a little faster.

Sirius eyes her skeptically.

"You paid off a Ravenclaw, I bet," he drawls. "Did Tosspot Clarke help you?"

"No," she says, a bit too quickly.

Sirius smirks, seeing through her denial. He hums beneath his breath, takes another sip of tea, and idly wonders, "What are you going to do with the garden? You're not actually going to plant something, are you?"

Vivian turns to send him another look and scoffingly responds, "What do you think I'm doing, just pulling up weeds for the hell of it?"

Sirius laughs.

"Would you leave me be?" Vivian mutters. "I'm trying to focus."

The moment she says this, she ends up waving her wand a bit too harshly. The result of the jerky movement pulls the weeds up far more abruptly than she'd been anticipating. Dirt sprays across the lawn with a vengeance and hits her square in the face.

She mutters out a curse and angrily brushes dirt off her robes. Meanwhile, Sirius bursts out laughing.

"Merlin, you look like a – " he cuts himself off when he sees the dangerous look Vivian shoots him, coughing back the last word.

Narrowing her eyes, Vivian demands, "Like what?"

His mouth curves into a smug smile. He looks like he's seconds away from dispensing with his offhanded insult (unable to stop himself, naturally), but before he can, a loud cawing sound interrupts him. They both turn to see Typhon flitting down to perch himself on a low-hanging branch of the apple tree nearby, no doubt coming to see what the commotion is all about. His piercing eyes blink at them distrustfully.

"Typhon!" Vivian exclaims. "There you are. I've been looking all over for you."

Her demon owl turns to glare at her. Vivian hardly bats an eye.

Still lingering in the doorway, Sirius snorts, "I was hoping he flew off for good."

Vivian pauses in her attempt at brushing dirt from her person and steps towards her owl, who had disappeared about a week ago. Typhon doesn't take well to be locked in his cage, so Vivian has taken to letting him out. He has a tendency of vanishing whenever she does, but he usually comes back eventually, much to Sirius's continued annoyance. The creature is like a stray cat, always showing up just when he starts to think that he's finally rid of him.

Typhon flutters his wings as Vivian approaches him. He seems tempted to fly off again, but when she holds out her arm, he grudgingly accepts it, hopping down to perch on it. He makes sure to send her a hiss just to be thorough, but Vivian ignores it in favor of reaching up to brush her fingertips across his head. Typhon tries to bite her hand as per usual.

"Did you have an adventure?" Vivian coos at him, not appearing fazed when Typhon continues to snap at her. She merely twists her hand away at each attempt. Sirius watches with an unimpressed look.

"He's got blood in his feathers," he drawls as Vivian approaches him.

Vivian glances down at the feathers layered over the owl's chest, where a bit of blood seems to be crusted in them. As before, she hardly bats an eye at the sight. In another cooing tone, she taps Typhon's head, ignores the hiss he sends her, and says, "I'm glad to see you've been having fun."

Sirius rolls his eyes and mutters, "Yeah, biting people's fingers off, I reckon."

Typhon sends him a supremely arrogant look and hoots as if agreeing. Meanwhile, Vivian also sends Sirius a look (almost as arrogant) and defensively says, "Typhon only snaps at people if he feels threatened."

She twists her fingers away from the demon owl again when his beak comes dangerously close. Sirius's expression turns dry.

"You're not letting him back inside," he tells her, barricading the doorway in case she gets any ideas.

"He needs to eat," Vivian argues.

"He's going to claw at my face again."

"It's not my fault he doesn't like you," she shrugs.

"He doesn't like anyone. He's a demonic monster."

"Don't listen to him, Typhon. He's just jealous."

"I can't believe you just said that."

Vivian just brushes past him, dirty robes and all. If Typhon sends Sirius a menacing look in passing, Vivian doesn't remark on it.

Alas, their fine mood isn't meant to last. Such things have a way of falling to the wayside when there is a war brewing beyond the peaceful expanse of their small cottage.

The news of another Order member's death comes as something of a surprise to the rest of them. This time, it is a man named Lawson, who worked closely with the Auror department as a private investigator. He's been found dead in his country house in Dorset, the Dark Mark marring the sky overhead. According to Sirius, Moody had been quite shaken up about it, or at least as shaken as a man like him might show. Lawson had, perhaps, been even more vigilant than Moody himself, for he had rarely attended any of the meetings. Only those among the Order would have known that he'd have had anything to do with their mission to subvert Voldemort's growing power.

His death is covered up, for the most part. The Daily Prophet includes him in the obituary section, but only a short paragraph describes the event. There is more of a focus on his accomplishments as an investigator than on the events surrounding his death. This doesn't make the matter any less concerning, though. It hasn't been the first time an Order member has fallen, and the rest of them are beginning to wonder just how in Merlin's name the Death Eaters could have known that Lawson was a member of their organization.

"Perhaps he did something to catch Voldemort's attention," Fabian suggests at the next meeting.

His twin nods and adds, "This whole thing could be a coincidence."

Moody has another take entirely. He barks, "A coincidence, he says! When you've seen half the things I've seen, boy, you come to realize that there's no such thing."

"I think I would have to agree," James inputs, his eyes lacking their usual mischievous gleam. "We've lost several of our members in the last few months alone, and no one outside this room would have ever had cause to suspect Lawson."

Sirius had apparently been right about Moody. Vivian would never describe him as a calm person, but compared to his usual self, he appears downright frazzled as he taps his fingers against the table's surface and growls, "We need to find out how the damned bastards are getting their information."

Perhaps there is such a thing as coincidence after all, because the moment these words pass through Moody's lips, his eyes happen to drift over Vivian's form as she leans against the opposite wall. It is nothing more than a passing glance, but something about the sight of her seems to spark some inherent thought in his mind, for his eyes are quick to lock onto hers in full. He stares, his brow furrowed, his eyes gleaming with an emotion she can't quite place…

Apparently, Sirius can.

"Don't you dare make the presumption that Vivian had anything to do with this," he suddenly says, pushing off the wall beside her. He sends a narrowed look towards Moody as he angles himself slightly in front of Vivian, who's eyebrows have begun to raise.

Moody scoffs beneath his breath and mutters, "She does spend an awful lot of time with those bastards."

Vivian bristles. So does Sirius, who crosses his arms and curtly responds, "That's because you and Dumbledore asked her to."

Moody purses his mouth but doesn't issue a reply to this, apparently deciding that it would be better to retain his silence. He does shoot Vivian another glance before turning away, though, which only makes her bristle even further.

"Vivian is one of us," James declares, much to her surprise. He slings an arm around her shoulders and resolutely says, "Whatever's going on here, she's got nothing to do with it."

This time, Moody can't help but grumble, "Not directly, perhaps, but there are ways – "

"Alastor," Dumbledore calmly interrupts, speaking for the first time since he had entered the room.

The sound of his name has Moody immediately cutting off the rest of his words. He swallows them back with a grunt. Vivian watches as he straightens up and searches through his well-worn coat for his flask. As he takes a hearty sip of its contents, she allows herself to glance at the rest of the room, wondering if the other members would be as quick to jump to her aid as Sirius and James. She supposes she isn't that surprised when she sees the uncomfortable expressions the others are wearing. No one looks her in the eye after that, though she isn't certain if this is because they are merely disquieted at Moody's suspicion or if they agree with it. The fact that she can't quite tell only makes her all the more uneasy.

It's true that Dumbledore had wanted her to reinsert herself into pureblood society in hopes of getting an edge over the Death Eaters, but at the end of the day, it had been her to make the final decision. She had agreed to do it. She had taken matters into her own hands. Do the others think she had ulterior motives? Have her actions not translated along with her intentions?

A hand slips into hers and brings her out of her thoughts. Sirius catches her eyes briefly as he settles against the wall beside her, resuming his previous position. Though the glance is short, it is meaningful. He squeezes her fingers in his as if to drive that meaning home, and she feels herself relax slightly. Sirius trusts her. Despite his concern over her renewed involvement in pureblood society, he has faith in her. That is enough.

But is it? After all, she has been meeting with Regulus whenever her schedule allows it, and she hasn't told Sirius about it. Is that not a form of betrayal? Does she really deserve Sirius's unflagging trust in her?

The thought makes her feel ill at ease. She can't help but wonder at Moody's words, and what he had been about to say before Dumbledore had interrupted. She can't help but think about the dreams she's been having, and how Regulus is convinced that she needs to protect her mind. Is it possible that she is the reason that so many Order members have fallen? Could it be that the Dark Lord has been siphoning information from her without her even realizing it? Or perhaps someone else, someone in his inner circle. Someone like –

No, it can't be Adrian Mulciber. She's known him since before they entered Hogwarts, and he has never been talented with this kind of magic. A truly talented wizard wouldn't need to be in close quarters with her to access her mind. It could be done across a crowded room. It could be done through a dream.

Or in an Occlumency lesson.

The thought makes her blood run cold. Regulus? No, surely not. And yet he was the one to orchestrate their lessons. He has access to her mind during them. She doesn't necessarily have control over what thoughts he can access during their sessions. She's still so new at this. Her mental shields are only just beginning to settle into place…

In the days following the meeting, Vivian finds herself going back and forth on the matter often. It strikes her as darkly amusing that she would trust Mulciber more than Regulus in this regard, and it is this thought alone that ultimately has her breaking free of the mental prison she has unwittingly placed herself in. After all, Regulus has proven himself to her in more ways than one. He may have made his fair share of poor decisions, but she believes that he is good at heart. The uncertainty of the world they are living in has been getting to her, that's all. It's been getting to everyone.

Still, she means to make certain of it, if only to put the last of her worries to rest.

"Regulus," she murmurs, her voice low and quiet as she watches him prepare their space for their Occlumency session. He is in the process of pulling their chairs closer together, his wand tucked into his back pocket and his hair a mess. He glances up at the sound of his name but continues with his efforts as she mulls over her words.

His distraction is just as well. Without the full force of his iron gaze upon her, she feels slightly more comfortable when she wonders, "Is it possible to use Legimency to…glean someone's thoughts without them knowing?"

He pauses at her question, then shrugs, "Legimency is essentially a form of mental invasion. Usually, the person whose mind is being invaded is at least partially aware of it happening."

She nods and murmurs, "Right. Because it's sort of like being attacked."

"It is an attack," he confirms. "Only very powerful wizards would be able to do it without it being obvious. Even then, it would be difficult to pull it off without the other person not noticing."

A beat of silence forms as Regulus sits down and reaches for a book on the small table between their chairs. As he cracks it open, Vivian rests her chin in her hand and studies him quietly, trying to sound offhanded as she remarks, "You know an awful lot about this."

He doesn't appear to notice the slight hesitation in the way she says this. Distracted now by the book in his lap, Regulus hums, "I've always been fascinated with Legimency, same as your interest in experimental charms and all…"

This parallel makes Vivian feel a little guilty for her doubt, but she brushes it aside before it can influence her.

"But if this dream I've been having is a form of Legimency and therefore a mental attack, then why didn't I realize it sooner?" she asks, eyeing him from her chair.

Regulus glances over at her. It seems he's already given this a fair amount of consideration, for he has an answer ready.

"Like I said, only a very powerful wizard would be able to perform this kind of magic on someone without their knowing," he tells her. "As for it coming in the form of your dream, you're already in a vulnerable mental state when you're sleeping, so I imagine it would be easier to gain access to your mind even from a distance."

As she absorbs this information and compares it to the knowledge she's thus far gained regarding Legimency, Regulus furrows his brows and asks, "Are you alright, Vivian? You seem worried."

Her eyes lock with his. It figures that Regulus would catch onto her concern despite her attempt at remaining composed. He's annoyingly observant.

Sitting up straighter, Vivian snorts, "Of course I'm worried, Regulus. Someone is messing with my mind and possibly reading my thoughts without me even realizing it."

At this, he shakes his head and responds, "You'd know if they were accessing your thoughts, even in your dream state."

She looks over at him, studying his expression.

"Are you absolutely certain of that?" she asks, her voice a little harder.

Regulus pauses again, this time because of the terse quality of her words. All things considered, it doesn't take Regulus very long to realize why she's asking these questions. In fact, it takes him very little time at all to put two and two together.

He lifts his head and murmurs, "This is about that private investigator, isn't it? You think you're at fault for his death?"

She frowns at him and shuffles to the edge of her seat, looking tense and uneasy as she replies, "I don't know. It's possible, right? I mean, how is the Dark Lord picking off so many Order members? How does he know who to target?"

The Order is a subject rarely spoken about between them, for obvious reasons. Regulus's recent realization that he's bitten off more than he can chew is the only reason she allows herself to bring it up now. Their alliance is a murky thing layered with too many variables to count. Friendship lays at its core, but such a thing isn't always enough when so much is at stake. A few months ago, Vivian would never have asked him a question like that. She never would have mentioned the Order at all. Things are different now, though. Not only between them, but within the country at large. The simplicity of their lives before graduation has well and truly faded, only to be replaced with a disquieted unease that cannot be shaken no matter how hard they try.

Regulus closes the book and turns to stare at the fire crackling in the grate.

"The Dark Lord doesn't tell his followers everything, Vivian. He compartmentalizes things. I've got no idea how he's able to gain this kind of information, but I don't think you're the reason," he tells her. He shoots her a glance and adds, "Unless you've been having other dreams that you haven't told me about."

Vivian chews on her bottom lip and mutters, "I haven't. But still, wouldn't it be possible – "

"Vivian," he interrupts, "trust me, you'd know. You'd feel it." He pauses, then slowly adds, "In any case, I believe that Bellatrix had something to do with that investigator's death. She was celebrated at the last event."

This news has Vivian frowning. "Bellatrix? You're sure?"

Regulus glances at her and murmurs, "I'm not sure about anything…but what I do know is that we have to find out what's in that cave you keep dreaming about."

This sudden change in topic has her blinking over at him. They've discussed this subject before. Her dreams, after all, are the entire reason why they've been meeting like this. There's something in Regulus's voice, though – a certain shard of agitation – that makes her pause.

"We must destroy whatever's in there. I have a feeling that it's important," Regulus tells her then, looking deathly serious.

Vivian studies him closely for a moment before murmuring, "It sounds like you've given this some thought."

He nods, "I have. And I think I know a way to find out what the Dark Lord is hiding there."

Another beat of silence, then he leans forward and asks in a quiet voice, "Have you ever had a lucid dream before, Vivian?"

She lifts her eyebrows and responds, "Not intentionally."

Regulus just taps the book in his lap and murmurs, "We're going to change that."

She glances at the cover for the first time since sitting down. Looped across the leather binding in large silver lettering reads, 'A Guide to Manipulating your Dreamscape'.

She sends Regulus a dubious look, but he only picks up the book and hands it to her.

"I want you to read that from cover to cover," he tells her. "We've got a lot of work to do."

Vivian isn't the only one who has been feeling uneasy about Lawson's death. Sirius, too, seems to think that there's something strange at work. Neither of them wants to believe that there is a mole within the Order, but the evidence appears to be pointing in this direction no matter how they look at it. The question is, who is it? If what Regulus said is true about her knowing if her mind was being invaded in such a way, then there must be someone else involved.

"Remus has been acting odd lately," Sirius remarks one evening while they're eating dinner.

The comment has her pausing, lifting her eyes to stare at him from across the table before she snorts out a laugh and says, "You can't be serious. Remus is one of your best friends."

His eyes meet hers as he responds, "First of all, I am Sirius – "

"This is no joking matter," she tells him dryly.

He sniffs. "Look, all I'm saying is that he's been out of the country more often than not trying to work out those alliances with the werewolf packs, and when he is around, we hardly ever see him." He lifts his fork to point it at her and says, "For all we know, he could've gotten swept up in it all and the wolves turned him against the cause."

Vivian shakes her head at him and logically replies, "The reason we don't see him is because he's been trying to land a job, which isn't an easy thing to do when you're a registered werewolf."

He puts his fork down. "Well, who else has been acting off, then? There must be someone handing out information to the Death Eaters."

Vivian reaches up to rub her forehead and sighs, "I don't know. I didn't like the way Moody looked at me."

The reminder of the last meeting has Sirius setting his jaw and muttering, "Yeah, I didn't like it either. It is understandable, though."

Her eyes slice into his with no shortage of irritation for him pointing this out, and Sirius clears his throat and backtracks, "That didn't really come out right – "

"Does everyone in the Order think I'm double-crossing them?" she asks, not letting him finish. Her voice is tense. She doesn't like the thought of people assuming her to be at fault just because she's been attending pureblood events.

It's more than that, though. It's her status as a pureblood herself. It's her family's reputation. It's the Blair name and the fact that she's a Slytherin. Can she blame people for turning to the most likely cause? If she was one of them, wouldn't she do the same?

Sirius doesn't meet her eye when he mumbles, "I'll set them right, Viv. Don't let it bother you."

This circular answer to her question, which was essentially an admittance that the Order does indeed think she may be responsible for the recent attacks on their members, makes her clench her teeth.

"Don't let it bother me," she repeats, leaning back in her chair. Her fork clatters onto her plate as she scoffs, "How can I not let it bother me? Just because I'm a Slytherin, they think I'm selling them out."

Sirius sighs and tells her, "They're just worried. They're not thinking straight."

"And now you're defending them," she says, sending him a dangerous look.

The way she says this, coupled with the irritated sheen to her eyes, has Sirius setting his shoulders with a frown. He looks vaguely annoyed now, though he seems to be attempting to temper himself when he slowly replies, "I'm not defending anyone, I'm simply saying that all of these attacks are understandably worrying everyone and making them wonder if they're the next target."

They stare at each other for a long moment before Vivian stands up and beings her half-finished dinner over to the sink. As she sets it down on the counter, Sirius studies the back of her head with a cautious expression.

"You know I trust you, Viv," he says after a long moment.

A pang of guilt hits her hard in the chest. She swallows and turns around to face him, leaning against the counter and crossing her arms. Their eyes meet, and she wonders whether she should just tell him about her meetings with Regulus. He deserves to know. They're in the together, after all, and she hates keeping something like this from him.

"I know," she says, mulling over her words.

He'll be angry. He won't like the idea of her meeting with Regulus. But they've only had a few sessions so far, so it's not like it's been going on for very long. It would be better to tell him now rather than later. Get it out in the open.

Right. She can do this.

"…Regulus thinks that Bellatrix had something to do with Lawson's death," she begins, deciding to broach the subject in a more subtle way in hopes of making it easier.

In hindsight, she supposes this is something of a fool's errand. Whenever his brother is mentioned, Sirius becomes much less agreeable.

Raising an eyebrow, Sirius stares at her for a moment before asking, "You've been talking to Regulus?"

She sighs at him.

"You know I see him at the gatherings," she says, stepping back over to the table.

He frowns at her and mutters, "I didn't think you were having heart-to-hearts. He's a bloody Death Eater, Vivian."

A beat of silence, then…

"Well, actually, I think he's been starting to regret that particular decision," she admits, sitting down in the chair beside his.

Sirius barks out a laugh and sneers, "Regulus worships Voldemort. He always has. Don't let him fool you."

Her mouth tightens slightly. Sirius's tone leaves little room for argument, and perhaps if she was smarter, she would have left it alone. She doesn't want to, though. She wants to be honest with him. Besides, regardless of Regulus's actions in the past, everyone deserves another chance to prove themselves, right?

"I really think he's changed, Sirius," she tries. "You haven't seen him since Hogwarts. He's different now – "

"I don't want to talk about my brother," Sirius mutters, standing up with a restless energy about him. With a frown, he adds, "I don't want to hear you talk about him."

At this, Vivian pauses and stares at him. "What's that supposed to mean?" she demands quietly. She stands up too, growing annoyed at the way he brushes the subject aside like this. Regulus is his family, and yet he's so quick to cast him off.

Sirius pushes his chair in. The noise cuts through the room loudly.

"Do you really have to ask?" he mutters, reaching down to take his plate.

Vivian releases a scoffing sound and tersely responds, "Yeah, I do have to ask. There's nothing going on between Regulus and I, if that's what this is about."

Sirius sets his plate down on the counter beside hers and reaches up to rub his face. He doesn't respond.

"…You said you trusted me," Vivian reminds him, her voice still curt. There's an edge to her words. Sirius hears it and turns, frowning.

"I do trust you," he murmurs.

For a long moment, neither of them says anything. They just stand across the kitchen and stare at each other, holding back their words and letting the silence grow like weights between them. Then, after what seems like an age, Vivian swallows back everything she had wanted to tell him and steps forward, reaching over to lay her hands onto his upper arms. The touch does something to him. She feels him relax beneath her fingers, some of the tension drifting away.

"I do trust you, Vivian," he tells her again, more earnestly this time.

She clenches her fingers into his shirt and breathes, "I know. I'm sorry. I won't…I won't talk about Regulus if it bothers you."

A part of her – the cowardly side, the side dominated by her own fears and doubts – is relieved when Sirius loops his arms around her waist and brings her against him. After all, maybe it's for the best. Maybe it would be better, for now at least, to simply remain silent about what her and Regulus are trying to achieve. It's not really a betrayal, is it? She's in love with Sirius. He'll always be the one who she turns to. The one who makes her brave enough to be herself. To follow the path that she so desperately wants to walk.

As she settles against his body and curls her arms around his shoulders, though, she wonders at her own bravery. She wonders also, in a quiet corner of her mind, whether she is truly on the right path after all, or if she is only trying to be someone that she was never meant to be.