A/N: Hey guys, another update for you to prove that I'm back lol. I was planning to include Sirius in this chapter, but this scene ended up being a little longer than I expected so I decided to just post this as a separate chapter. Sirius will definitely be in the next update though, and there will be way more explaining to be had between him and Vivian regarding the new turn of events.

Anyway cheers and hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Chapter Fourteen | Sic eunt fata hominum

[Thus go the destinies of man]

There are few things in Vivian Blair's life that she deems essential to her own happiness. One might say that she is something of a minimalist regarding matters of emotional satisfaction. This might be the result of a childhood spent primarily in solitude, left to her own devices and to explore her own subset of reality, or perhaps there is no specific reason. This is just simply how she is; the internal wiring that makes up the core of her persona. Regardless, Vivian doesn't need very many things to make her feel fulfilled. A good book, a safe haven to return to, perhaps a mindgame to puzzle her way through…but certainly not this.

She can already hear Sirius's smug voice in her ear as she stands in the threshold of her new office and gives the tiny cubicle a frowning inspection. It's something to the effect of: 'You got yourself into this mess, Godric.'

She releases a huffed exhale and steps into the space, carelessly dumping her small box of personal items on the desk. She had gotten herself into this. There's no sense in wallowing in the small prickle of regret that is, even now, burning its way down the back of her neck.

"You'll be shadowing Miss Bernard today," says the voice of her new supervisor, and Vivian turns back to look at him, her unimpressed frown morphing into a more neutral expression. The supervisor, a man by the name of Ralph Bugby, sends her a smile that he likely thinks is welcoming, but it rather misses the mark. Instead, it comes across as somewhat strained. Vivian hasn't yet decided if this is because he's wary of her or if he's just shit at smiling, but she's currently leaning towards the former.

Her name carries with it some semblance of weight, after all, and not necessarily a good one. The Blair family's reputation has always been set firmly in the middle ground of the political balance, until recently. Her father isn't dimwitted enough to air his loyalties to the Dark Lord in the open for all to see, but he hasn't exactly been overly secretive of said loyalties either. Her own relationship with her father had, in times past, blinded her to the reality of his leanings, but not everyone has been as blind. Furthermore, Vivian's own disinheritance months before has long since made the rounds in the gossip mills, and apparently, that makes her a bit of a wildcard. Bugby doesn't seem to know what to make of her, and the manner in which she had landed this job has likely only solidified that.

He isn't the only one. Vivian is a bit more well-known than she had given herself credit for, something she had been quick to discover the moment she'd marched up to the secretary in the Atrium only an hour before to receive her new badge. After filling out the customary paperwork involved with her new position, Vivian had handed it back to the secretary, only for the woman to take one look at her name and send her a wide-eyed stare. Vivian hadn't fully understood the reasons for it in the moment, likely because she's been living a somewhat cloistered life since disentangling herself from her family ties, but she has since then begun to realize that the story around her disinheritance is quite a bit larger than she'd thought. It isn't every day, after all, that a pureblood heir leaves behind her fortune, her family, and indeed, the entirety of the estate she would have otherwise inherited.

Mr. Bugby sends her another strained smile and gestures to the tiny cubicle. "I'll let you get acquainted with your new office. Miss Bernard will be by soon to collect you and show you around. If you need anything, my office is just down the hall."

He seems eager to take his leave, so Vivian doesn't stop him. She just nods and releases a faint sound of agreement, just as eager to be alone for a while. The moment Bugby steps out of the tiny office and closes the door behind him, Vivian releases a breath that she's been holding since the moment she'd arrived earlier that morning.

Perhaps some explaining ought to be done. After all, when last we left Vivian, she was standing alone atop the Westminster bridge, reeling from Regulus's sudden acceptance of her plan and just as sudden departure. Since that moment, quite a few things have occurred, the least of which had been one long tirade from the man she is currently living with followed shortly thereafter with an equally long discussion regarding her 'half-brained schemes' and her 'frustrating tendency to be as secretive as she possibly can at the most inopportune moments'. Those comments had been justified, she supposes, though her ego hadn't much liked hearing them.

This long tirade had then immediately led into Sirius demanding that they both go and speak to Dumbledore that very moment, which Vivian had thought rather unnecessary (she would have preferred to go at a more forgivable hour). Alas, once Sirius Black puts his mind to something, he has a stubborn tendency of following through. In the end, they had stumbled into Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts, creating a bit of a ruckus after having sent a Patronus to rouse him and inform him of their coming. He had met with them in his dressing gown and fuzzy slippers, looking utterly nonplussed at his state of dress. It had all been a bit bizarre, but given the circumstances, Vivian can't deny that it was perhaps necessary to get it out of the way. In Sirius's words, it was 'damage control'. Needless to say that he hadn't been overly pleased with the news that she'd given her father that slip of paper without first informing him of her plan.

As for Dumbledore, well…

"You have perhaps bitten off a bit more than you can chew, Miss Blair," he had said, much to Sirius's agreement. But then, to Sirius's disagreement, he'd added, "Though I do believe we can work with this…making use of your connections will only be beneficial to us."

The notion of Vivian stepping back into pureblood society, even just a little bit, had not been something Sirius had liked. It's dangerous, he'd told her. Foolish, even.

"They'll see right through you," he'd said. "And I don't like you getting anywhere near Mulciber," he'd added, which she supposes is also justified, considering her tense past with her fellow pureblood.

Still, Dumbledore hadn't been quite as angry with her as Vivian had thought he'd be. Instead of treating her like a thoughtless child with no regard for her life – or the lives of the other Order members, for that matter – he had merely sat down for many minutes and considered the plan she had scrabbled together. Then, to her surprise, he had said, "It would be a lie to claim that I haven't considered how we might make use of your ties to pureblood society, Miss Blair. I believe a long discussion with Alastor is in order. He'll surely have an idea regarding how to proceed…"

And then, just like that, Vivian had an interview lined up, courtesy of Dumbledore's own connections, and then, not one week after that, here she is. In this tiny cubicle in the Department of Law, wondering what on earth she had gotten herself into.

Years ago, when she was still the Vivian Blair of the past, she never would have thought to find herself in a job like this. Actually, to be perfectly honest, she never would have expected herself to have a job at all. There are of course plenty of pureblood wives in prominent families who are employed, but it is far more common for such women to simply center their purpose around their estate and their family. Vivian was raised to expect such a lifestyle for herself. She had not been raised with any expectations of entering the work force on the lowest rung of the ladder as a court clerk, in the smallest office imaginable and with a salary that would hardly be enough to finance the way of life she has always been accustomed to living.

Of course, that way of life isn't the one she's currently living, and to be completely honest, the thought of having any kind of salary is something she feels rather proud of. It may not be a large sum, but it symbolizes a certain level of independence that she never expected of herself, before. Furthermore, she rather likes the thought of having her own income that is separate from the money Sirius had inherited. It makes her feel like less of a burden, even though she knows well enough that Sirius himself doesn't see her in such a way.

Even better than all of this, though, and despite her own wariness of placing herself so close to Adrian Mulciber, is the thought of having a purpose. She feels as though she's been drifting in and out of reality for months now, with one foot in the Order and the other still trapped in her old life. It's been more of a struggle than she'd expected, getting accustomed to living without her family's intervention. Dumbledore's previous caution around Vivian's involvement in Order business has only made her feel all the more ostracized and useless. Sirius might not like the fact that she'll be working with Adrian, but even he can't deny that such a position will be useful to the Order so long as she plays her cards right, and at the end of the day, Sirius Black is just reckless enough to admit that he doesn't completely mind her 'hair-brained scheme' – though he hadn't actually phrased it quite like that.

Vivian crosses her arms and turns to study the office again, appearing once more just as unimpressed as she inwardly feels. She is optimistic in this new endeavor of hers, but she does have to admit that she'd been hoping for a bit more space, if nothing else. As it is, her office resembles more of a cupboard. The desk takes up nearly half the room, and the other half is filled a large filing cabinet. There's a tall stack of books next to it, piled one on top of the other and gathering dust. A coatrack is placed by the door, and a small window is just behind the desk with a view that has been magically enchanted to show off London. Considering how far underground she currently is, she knows full well that it is only a fabrication, likely meant to make the tiny, cramped room appear more spacious than it actually is.

With a dubious glance at the overcast clouds hanging low in the sky, Vivian approaches the desk and tugs her box of personal items towards her. She reckons she might as well put some of her things away while she waits for Miss Bernard, or whatever her name is. She's got no idea how long it will be before her shadow arrives to show her around, so instead of fiddling her thumbs and rehashing the argument she'd had with Sirius about her 'reckless, stupid plan', she opens the box and dumps out the stack of paperwork she'd received from the secretary in the Atrium, which she'd stuffed into it soon after receiving it.

The papers are mainly copies of the documents she had already filled out, the usual things involving her personal information as well as some basic information regarding her new position. She drops the stack of papers onto the corner of the desk without looking at them and starts removing several other things she'd brought with her. Considering it's her first day, these things mainly consist of quills, ink, rolls of parchment, and other mundane items she figures she'll need. The person who had previously used this office had left a small, cylindrical metal quill holder behind, so Vivian dumps her quills into it before stepping around the desk to sit down in the wooden chair behind it.

It's extremely uncomfortable.

With a glower, Vivian draws her wand and places it on the desk in front of her. A moment drags by silently. She reaches forward to straighten it, then crosses her arms and raises her eyes to stare at the door, fully expecting that it will open at any moment and her boredom will be put to rest.

It doesn't. Instead, several long minutes go by in silence, and her mind begins to drift to things she'd rather not think about –

"Where in Merlin's beard have you been? I've been waiting here for hours, you know – "

- Before she grows so impatient that Vivian finds herself standing up, grabbing her wand, and marching to the door of her cramped office with a glowering frown set firmly upon her face. She's not going to wait in that cubicle for another moment.

Of course, later on, she may regret leaving so erratically, because her sudden need to walk away from the memory of that argument only ends up propelling herself into Adrian Mulciber's path a lot sooner than expected.

She's been preparing for this since her initial interview, bracing herself for the inevitable run-in with the man she was supposed to marry. It's the whole reason she's even here to begin with, after all. Using Adrian Mulciber as a means to get some answers, to perhaps secure information for the Order and do something useful for a change. She's tired of sitting back and watching Sirius play the hero with his stupid friends. Sooner or later, there comes a time when you have to step up too, and Vivian Blair is beyond ready for that.

She's also beyond ready to get out of this cramped office. Sitting there is only making her second guess herself, and every good Slytherin knows how dangerous self-doubt can be when it comes to enacting overly complex plans (which, by the by, happen to be a Slytherin specialty). She's here, in the Ministry, wearing black and maroon robes with a fancy new badge pinned to her breast, and she's not about to step back and start regretting her decisions now that she's already come this far. With this mantra lodged firmly in her thoughts, Vivian slips her wand back into her pocket, swings open the door of her office, and marches out into the hall.

It's empty. She lifts an eyebrow and sighs. Shouldn't there be more activity around here? Witches and wizards running to and fro with materials for their various cases? Memos zipping around the space as people are too busy to leave their offices and send their messages in person? Instead, the long hallway where her cubicle is located is quiet, with nary a sound.

Curious as to why this is, Vivian walks the length of the hallway and peers down the next corridor, hands casually stuffed into the pockets of her robes. If she goes left, she'll eventually reach the Atrium. If she goes right, she'll be passing several court rooms within her department. There are quite a few different departments, all located on different floors within the Ministry's law division. The one she's now working in is on the lower rung of the ladder, so to speak. The attorneys in her department mainly focus on minor infringements and issues surrounding juvenile crime, but there are also departments that handle larger criminal offenses, business-related liabilities, and other matters that are, frankly, above her pay grade. She hasn't actually been to any of the other floors yet, but she imagines that the layout is much the same on each one, with every department hosting their own court rooms and such things. This in mind, Vivian takes a right, stepping towards said court rooms with a curious expression blazing over her face.

The door of one is cracked open a few inches, so she pauses on the other side to peer through the crevice. She doesn't think she's doing anything wrong – these hearings are open to the public, after all – so she listens for a moment to the proceedings within before she grows bored. It's got something to do with two people who own separate but very similar patents for a product that Vivian doesn't stick around to hear about. She decides to keep walking instead, and turns around to carry on her way. She makes it about ten steps before the door to one of the courts just ahead opens and people begin filing out, apparently finished with whatever hearing they were sitting through.

There's quite a lot of people, so Vivian moves to the side of the hallway to let them pass, studying the varied badges that each person is wearing. The court clerks like her bear simpler designs with just their name and position written upon them, but the attorneys and judges appear to have slightly fancier badges. She haphazardly looks for one that might say 'Penelope Bernard', the woman that's supposed to be giving her a proper tour of the place and showing her the ropes, but to Vivian's slight annoyance, there's no sign of her.

She's probably getting ahead of herself, she supposes. The woman must be finishing up something else before coming to get her, doing whatever it is she does here. Vivian can bide her time while she waits. It's not like she isn't allowed to walk around, after all.

"Blair," a voice suddenly greets from her right.

Ah. Though, now that she's considering it, it's not like she really cares about walking around, either.

Regretting her decision to leave her office, Vivian turns to the voice, her mouth curving into a bored smile. She locks eyes with the man who had just stepped out of the court room and breezily returns, "Mulciber," before continuing on her way.

She knows full well that her brush-off isn't going to be successful, but it feels nice to do it anyway. Extending a cold shoulder to someone she happens to loathe is a great way to start your day.

"Imagine my surprise when I heard you landed a job here, and in my own department no less," Adrian says, following her down the hall.

Vivian hums.

"Imagine my surprise when I heard you were already working here. I truly didn't think you had the mental capacity to even sit through a job interview, let alone pass one," Vivian politely responds.

Adrian sends her a cool smile that she returns.

"I didn't think you were interested in the law," he says a moment later, ignoring her slight.

Her mouth curves up a little higher when she drawls, "Helping the people has always been a dream of mine. I had no idea you felt the same, Adrian."

They reach the end of the hall.

"I'm all for helping the people," he tells her, and slips his hands into his pockets.

"Your people, you mean?" she wonders, looking down the hall as she decides which direction to take.

She feels his eyes on her, so Vivian looks over at him with a raised eyebrow, as if she's wondering why he hasn't responded. A moment passes before Adrian sends her a quiet smile that is just barely polite. If not for the way his eyes gleam at her, she might have described it as such.

"What are you doing here, Blair?" he asks, though it's really more of a demand if Vivian is being honest.

They study each other for a moment, conducting a bit of a silent perusal of the other's expression – looking for tells or signs, perhaps – before Vivian tells him, "I needed a job."

Adrian sends her an amused look. With a scoff, he replies, "Oh please. You don't actually expect me to believe that, do you? What are you really doing here?"

She sighs at him and crosses her arms, eyeing him with a touch of disdain. "I know your ego is unnaturally inflated, Mulciber, but I'm not here because of you. I happen to have a larger purpose than just messing with you, so shove off."

Her words don't anger him like she half-expects them to. Instead, a suspicious look blazes over his face, and his eyes gleam at her with the barest hint of curiosity when he muses, "A larger purpose?"

The prompt has Vivian sighing again as if she thinks he's dull. In truth, she doesn't think that – she's not stupid enough to underestimate Adrian Mulciber, no matter how much she dislikes him – but it's slightly amusing to watch his reaction. She doesn't care if it's juvenile of her. Nor does she care to tell Mulciber what her larger purpose actually is. Not yet, anyway.

"Like I said, I needed a job," she drawls at him.

See, here's the thing about Slytherins: they've got a sixth sense when it comes to lying. It's like they innately know when someone is trying something on them, and their curiosity is limitless where it concerns finding out the truth behind that lie. She's fully aware that Mulciber knows she's lying about her purpose in coming here. Not only is her argument weak in itself, but throwing herself in the middle of his path like this is most definitely not something he had expected from her. Contextually, it's all fairly obvious. Which is exactly what she wants him to think.

You don't just go in with your guns blazing and throw everything you've got at a man like Adrian Mulciber in one fell swoop. He distrusts her for everything that's happened before and after graduation. He'd never fall for it. No, the right approach is to be nearly transparent, but only just.

Vivian raises her eyes to his, standing in the middle of the hall while he studies her. The corridor is lit by several braziers extending up and down it, but Mulciber's face is turned away from the light and his eyes are shadowy and dark as they peer at her. His mouth curls upward at the corners when he murmurs, "You needed a job."

The tone of his voice is familiar. Vivian braces herself for what she's well aware is coming.

"What happened, Blair? Did that blood traitor go through all his money already?" he drawls. His eyes gleam with a sort of embittered amusement, and it's hardly any wonder why he'd find such a scenario laughable.

Vivian releases a scoffing sound in the back of her throat and responds, "No, but he's definitely on his way."

And just like that, Adrian Mulciber pauses, and she knows she's captured his attention.

Right. That thing about Slytherins? Well, if you know how to play your cards right and the Slytherin in question has a generous dose of pride and ego, they happen to be surprisingly easy to trap.

"…What are you getting at?" Mulciber asks, narrowing his eyes at her. The fact that she'd agreed with him rather than dispute his words is apparently enough to bring forth the suspicion, for his voice is laden heavily with it. But there's a gleam in his eyes, too, a sort of undercurrent of interest that cannot be hidden, and this is what Vivian latches onto.

Vivian glances at him, sharp eyes made all the sharper with the smirk that curves over her mouth. She huffs out a breath of soundless laughter and replies, "Oh come on, Mulciber. You didn't actually think I left my inheritance for Sirius Black, did you?" Then she releases a real laugh, eyeing his transforming expression, and sighs, "Then again, the plan wouldn't have worked if you had known, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."

He doesn't speak for a long moment, and Vivian just stares at him with that look in her eyes, as if she thinks he's being dimwitted, and she waits. She doesn't have to wait very long.

"You expect me to believe that you're been playing with that blood traitor this whole time?" he demands. His voice is a little rougher now, but Vivian isn't afraid of it. She might have been, had his eyes not been so curious, but as it is…

"I can't take all the credit," she shrugs, sniffing a bit as she straightens her front her robe, pulling the folds taut. With an air of nonchalance, she adds, "It was Regulus's idea, too. I guess you could say it all started as an act of revenge, but then we realized how far we could take it. You know. For the cause."

The words leave her lips without an ounce of hesitation. She's been practicing this. Honing down her explanation for weeks now, going over it with Sirius and the others again and again until it had become well-rehearsed lines. The part of her that isn't fully invested in maintaining her role finds it slightly amusing how intrigued Mulciber suddenly appears by her words. She hadn't realized she had a talent for acting.

Adrian doesn't respond at first, nor does he move. Instead, he blinks at her, studying her closely, his eyes sharp and precise as if he is dissecting her…and then –

"I'm here because of you," he tells her, his voice turning dark and stormy, his eyes puckering with anger – not the response Vivian had been hoping for. She'd miscalculated somewhat. Still, she holds her ground even when Mulciber shuffles forward a step and towers over her, getting into her personal space and growling, "You made a fool out of me, Blair. The Dark Lord placed me here because he thought I couldn't handle anything else. If I couldn't even make a girl marry me, I can't be trusted with more important matters."

His anger is a potentiality that she had anticipated. After all, she knows Adrian Mulciber well enough to make educated guesses regarding how he might respond to her sudden reappearance. Anyone else might be shaken in the face of that anger – and to be frank, it would be a lie to say that Vivian isn't – but she also sees something that others may have missed. That something happens to be the fact that, despite his anger, Adrian had just informed her that the Dark Lord had placed him here, and that means that a part of him, however small, is inching towards trusting her. At least enough to admit such a thing.

She inhales, tilting her chin up so that she can look him in the eye. Every piece of her longs to step away from him and to resecure her space, but she locks her muscles and doesn't move. He'd see it as a show of weakness, and she cannot afford to appear weak in front of him.

"Well, to be honest, Adrian, that whole thing about me not wanting to marry you was completely true," she bluntly tells him. Then, before his anger can summon any more scathing words, she quickly adds, "But I have something to make up for it and, hopefully, to secure you a little bit of favor with the Dark Lord."

He had started to open his mouth to offer a retort to that first bit, but the second half of her sentence quickly makes him close it again. His eyes narrow a little more as he stares down at her. For a moment, Vivian watches him fight between that anger and curiosity, until at last the curiosity seems to win out when he demands, "What do you have?"

Vivian sends him a wane smile that doesn't reach her eyes, presses her fingertips against his chest, and pushes him backwards. He takes the hint and finally moves out of her personal space, apparently intrigued enough to allow her that much. Once that issue is resolved, Vivian reaches into her robes and pulls out a small roll of parchment, roughly four inches in diameter. It's tied together with a thin black ribbon to keep it closed.

"Regulus has been keeping me updated on certain events, you see," Vivian tells him, extending to roll of parchment towards him. "One of those events happens to be the fact that my spell is having a few problems…and that you've been tasked to find me and have me fix those problems."

Adrian lifts an eyebrow at her. His expression is just blank enough so as to make it difficult to read the nature of his thoughts, but it doesn't stop him from reaching out to take the parchment. A moment later, he shoots her another narrowed look before tugging the parchment out of the ribbon and unrolling it to glance at its contents. A long silence follows before he slowly asks, "This isn't a trick? This is real?"

His eyes flicker back towards her.

"You can always test it out before handing it over, if you're worried," is her calculated response.

This is, perhaps, the only part of Vivian's plan that is not a bold-faced lie. She can't very well hand over a faulty spell if she wants to gain the trust of Adrian Mulciber – nor, indeed, of anyone else connected to him. It had taken her quite a few sleepless nights exploring new avenues of Latin roots and linguistical anomalies, but she is fairly certain that the improvements she had made to Vivicendium will hold in the face of whatever tests Mulciber performs.

Adrian studies the notes for a moment more before rolling it up and slipping it back into the tied ribbon. Then, fingers tapping against the parchment, he turns back to look at her, his brows furrowing just so.

"What, still don't believe me?" Vivian asks, deciding to just come out and say it. She lifts her eyebrows at the skeptical look he's sending her.

With a hum, Adrian responds, "Not really, no. You may not have wanted to marry me, but I can't believe you'd go this far to get out of it. I mean, move in with that bastard? The whole country thinks you turned your back on us. It's counterproductive to whatever plan you and Regulus claim to have come up with."

In response, Vivian just shrugs, but she isn't quite as calm on the inside as she is on the out. She hadn't expected that she'd be able to just waltz back into Adrian's life and convince him that she's still on his side. That would have been far too easy, after all. Still, if a part of her had been hoping that Adrian's lost a few more brain cells than he had when last she saw him, she is unfortunately wrong.

"It's not counterproductive at all, actually," she tells him, hardly even knowing where she's going with this. She'd hoped that handing over Vivicendium would do the trick and gain enough of his trust that he doesn't continue to question her. The rest of the work gaining his trust would be done the more time she spends with him. Trust is a gradual thing, after all, but there needs to be enough of it in the beginning if you want it to build.

Adrian tilts his head and sarcastically wonders, "Oh?" He snorts and glances down at her with a slight sneer. "You like that blood traitor. You think I forgot that time I caught you and him going at it in the courtyard? Please, Blair, you can't expect me to believe that – "

"I'm going to turn him," she blurts out, and then clamps her mouth shut.

Merlin's Flaming Pants, what had she just said?

Mulciber seems to be wondering the very same thing.

"…What? Turn him?" he repeats, sounding a bit incredulous.

She feels a bit like she's underwater, trapped in a sort of strange flowing universe that is ever in flux. And, like that universe, Vivian doesn't stop either when she nods and vaguely repeats, "Yeah. Turn him."

Then…

"I needed him to think I was in love with him for it to work," she says. "I needed everyone to think that."

This is a terrible idea. She's going to regret having said that. Still, how else can she explain why she'd moved in with Sirius? Mulciber is right. If she was really on the side of the Dark Lord, why would she go this far to be with a blood traitor? Why would she leave her home and her fortune, turn her back on her people, and make everyone think that she too is a traitor?

"He's a pureblood. He can be turned," Vivian adds.

Adrian Mulciber is staring at her as if he's wondering whether she's gone mental on him, so Vivian straightens her shoulders and clears her throat, hardening her expression as she meets his eyes. He raises another eyebrow at her and snorts, "Why? What's the point of turning Sirius Black? He's useless to us."

At this, the laugh that leaves Vivian's mouth is genuine.

"Useless? He's got ties to Dumbledore. Trust me, he's not useless," she replies. She certainly doesn't make any mention of the Order of the Phoenix. Hopefully Sirius's connection to Dumbledore will be enough.

When Adrian doesn't respond, Vivian sighs, "I know this is confusing for you, Mulciber – your limited brain power makes it difficult for you to grasp complex things, I get it – but Regulus can back me up. Just go and ask him if you're so worried I'm here to fuck up your life."

It's Adrian's turns to laugh. He shoots her a dark smirk and drawls, "Vivian, you should be more concerned about your own life. If this is all some kind of twisted scheme – "

"Why else would I go this far?" she interrupts, this time a little impatiently. "Letting that blood traitor kiss me is a lot more difficult than I think you realize. Give me a bit of fucking credit, Mulciber."

At this, he pauses and releases a thoughtful hum, eyeing her again with that discerning expression. It's hard to tell whether he believes her or not. Vivian isn't stupid enough to believe that he does, at least not in full. The whole point of this is to get him to wonder at her loyalties, not necessarily trust her immediately. She needs only to plant a kernel of doubt in his mind for her plan to get off the ground, and judging by the way he's now looking at her, she knows she's succeeded in that, at least.

"You know I'll be contacting Reggie about this," he tells her after a long beat of silence.

Vivian shrugs. "You do that," is her breezy, unconcerned response. It takes quite a bit of effort to make her voice that careless.

"And you know I'll be testing this spell out, and if it doesn't work – "

"You'll drag me kicking and screaming into a dark alley and finish me off, I know," she replies with a snort.

Her sarcasm doesn't seem to faze him. Adrian just lifts his chin a bit and mutters, "Well, I'm glad we're on the same page."

She crosses her arms and responds, "You'll see that I'm being genuine eventually."

She really hopes her optimism isn't misplaced, because the way his eyes flash at her with that suspicious distrust definitely sets her on edge. After all, she wasn't being entirely sarcastic when she guessed at his reaction to her potential betrayal. Still, as long as Regulus follows through on his end, she'll be fine…right?

This is war. Sacrifices must be made. She can do this.

"You had better hope that everything you've just told me ends up being true, or my own anger will be the last thing you'll have to worry about," Adrian warns.

His words ring with such solid truth that, for a split second, her resolve shakes. But it's too late to turn back. Like Sirius had said, she's gotten herself into this mess. She had volunteered for this. What's more, she's ready for it.

They stare at each other for another long moment, two Slytherins swept up in yet another game of poker faces and tells, before Adrian's expression rearranges into one that is slightly more accommodating. It's painfully obvious that it's all a farce, especially since his voice hasn't lost the hard edge when he gestures down the corridor and suggests, "I'll show you around, Blair. Since you're my junior clerk and all."

Ah, another power play. He does love those.

Vivian throws him an equally edged smile and forces out, "Lead the way, Mulciber."

Her thinly veiled annoyance only seems to amuse him, for his eyes gleam yet again as he turns and begins to walk down the hallway. She hesitates only a moment before following after him, and as she goes, she can't help but wonder yet again what she's gotten herself into. But, as any Slytherin worth their weight, Vivian Blair only sets her shoulders back and keeps going, and the more steps she takes, the more her resolve returns to her, slowly filling the spaces within her until there is nothing left to fill.

No, she isn't about to underestimate Adrian Mulciber. If he was smart, though, he wouldn't underestimate her, either.