A/N: Shorter chapter this week. I'm super busy right now with a work order, so I may or may not be updating next Sunday depending on whether my schedule gives me time to write. Just a heads up!

Also, this week (I think) I'll be posting the first chapter of that Cato/Hunger Games story some of my older readers may remember me talking about way back when. So if you're interested, look out for that!

KirikaAndo: I can see why that would be comedically bad. Though I do still totally understand the correlation lol. As for your question, I don't usually have face claims for characters I come up with. It's frankly too much work tbh. No one ever looks exactly how I envision the characters when I'm creating them, so I'm never satisfied. Though I did find a pretty good representation of Vivian if you're interested in checking out the covers for Vivicendium and Regimentum over on Wattpad. Other than that, I weirdly imagine Mauve looking similarly to Cupcake in Rise of the Guardians for some reason and Gavin is basically Clarke Kent. If that helps. Lol my mind works in strange ways I know

Chapter Nineteen | Aimus capiendi

[With the intention of taking]

Life has a way of falling into place, and during the course of the next few weeks, Vivian finds herself almost surprised at how normal everything appears to be. With Sirius having landed his new position as an Auror-in-Training, him and James, who has also secured a spot in the program, are busy during the day operating under Moody's tutelage. Besides Mulciber's continuous stream of snide commentary at her own job, nothing seems amiss on that front. Best of all, as the last traces of summer well and truly fade into the coming chill of Autumn, Vivian's own social life becomes a bit more engaging.

She ends up meeting Mauve for lunch one afternoon about a week or so after stumbling into her at the Ministry, only to discover that she's already received word of having been accepted into the position she'd applied for. What's even better, though, is that, after tiptoeing around the subject for a while, Vivian ends up asking Mauve whether she'd be interested in joining the Order, and Mauve agrees to attend the next meeting.

Things are looking up, and not just because she has fallen back in with an old classmate in her own house, though the fact that she's got another Slytherin around does uplift her mood more than she can say. What's even better than all of that is simply the fact that Adrian Mulciber, snide commentary aside, seems to have warmed up to her a bit faster than she had been expecting.

By the end of October, they've fallen into a bit of a routine. Each morning, she goes over his daily schedule in his office. In the afternoons, she attends court hearings with him so as to take down the minutes. At five o'clock, he's even taken to muttering goodbyes to her should their paths cross on their way out the door. Sirius isn't overly happy about the fact that things seem to be smoothing out between them, but even he can't deny that it is good news. Getting on Mulciber's good side is the whole reason why she'd gotten this job to begin with, and she's clearly making progress.

If Vivian had thought that things would continue down the track they're currently on, though, without any delineation for better or worse, she's wrong.

The first of the changes comes the week of Halloween, in the form of a letter that Adrian hands her the moment she steps into his office that morning, ready to drone out his schedule as per usual. It's strange enough that Vivian promptly forgets said schedule in favor of opening the letter, and not even Mulciber's knowing stare dampens her curiosity.

"…You're kidding, right?" Vivian asks with an incredulous laugh, scanning the letter as she stands in front of his desk. The parchment is of expensive quality, with a linen finish that makes the ink stand out upon the page. After scanning its contents, Vivian realizes that it's not really a letter at all, but rather an invitation.

From his chair, Adrian shrugs casually and stands up. His voice is light and lacking any hint of its usual scorn when he replies, "It was your father's idea. He seemed to think you'd be pleased to attend."

The Halloween Night Gala is a dinner party that's usually held at one of the pureblood family's manors. It's a great honor to host it, and this year, it seems that this particular honor has been bestowed upon the Mulciber family itself, and subsequently, the man who is now moving to stand in front of the window that has been enchanted to show off the bustling streets of London.

Vivian stares at his back with a blank expression, grappling with the suddenness of this invitation and, frankly, not knowing how to respond to it. She certainly hadn't been expecting to be invited to a pureblood gala when she'd woken up this morning. To be given the invitation by Adrian himself, who is one of the hosts, would have been considered an honor in itself had she still been a part of his world. She has to remind herself that, as far as he's concerned, she still is.

"…I assumed my father was still upset at me for going behind his back the way I did," Vivian haltingly responds, recalling with no difficulty the manner in which he had stared at her when she had returned to the Blair estate to deliver that piece of parchment. Confusion plucks at her, filling her voice when she adds, "I wasn't expecting an invitation to a dinner of this…caliber."

The Halloween Night Gala happens to be one of the most important dinners within pureblood society, on par with the May Day celebrations and the Midsummer gatherings. Everyone will be there. If you consider yourself to be an upstanding member of their social circle, missing it is completely out of the question.

Adrian turns away from the window to look at her, his expression still uncharacteristically casual. "He is still upset with you," he admits, "but I want you there. We have a certain spell to test out, and I figured the night of Halloween would be ideal."

The manner in which Vivian jerks her eyes up to stare at Adrian seems to amuse him a bit, because his mouth twitches with the hint of a smirk. It succeeds in washing out the casual stance he has been exuding. Now, he exchanges his idle expression for one that's sharper and more pointed.

"You didn't think I'd let you get away with handing me that spell and not involve you in testing it out, did you?" he wonders as he studies the surprise that's capturing her face. His voice is purposefully breezy, offsetting the flash of his eyes as they lock with hers.

When Vivian doesn't respond, and he chuckles, "You've grown so shortsighted since moving in with that blood traitor. What did you think I've been doing all this time? You think you've blindly stumbled your way into this job without my say so? If I wanted you fired, you'd be long gone."

Vivian lifts her chin, narrowing her eyes at him as she tensely says, "Please. You're not in charge of who's on the payroll, Mulciber. Your power only extends so far."

The look he sends her then makes it apparent that he thinks she's being dimwitted.

"Come now, Vivian, you can't be that dense," he scoffs, leaning against the window and crossing his arms. "I may not be as favored as I was before you rudely rejected my marriage proposal, but I still have a lot more sway than you seem to realize. Your father certainly respects me enough to agree to let you attend the gala at my behest."

An uneasy panic begins to drift through her, quietly tempering the words she fiercely desires to throw back at him. She bites back the insult that burns its way up her throat and instead settles with a scornful, "What, you don't have the ability to test out the spell without me being there? It's been more than a month since I gave it to you. What are you waiting for?"

Perhaps she isn't as successful at hiding the panic as she'd like to think, because Mulciber's amusement seems to grow as he murmurs, "I wasn't going anywhere near that spell until I was certain that you were being sincere. Consider this a test, Blair. It'll be just like the good old days when we snuck out of Hogwarts, remember?"

Vivian stares at him, battling with the memories that attempt to claw their way into her mind. She forcefully pushes them away – the darkness of the night, Bellatrix's mad laughter, the dying light of a soul leaving that man's eyes – and straightens her shoulders as she gathers herself. She has absolutely no desire to relive that night. From the way Mulciber is looking at her, though, she is struck with the harrowing realization that, if she wants to gain his trust, she likely won't have a choice.

"So what, you've spent the last two months watching me read you your schedule and throwing paperwork at me, and you've just suddenly decided that you trust me enough to let me in on your plans?" she scoffingly wonders.

Mulciber smiles. Her tone seems to amuse him all the more. He pushes off from the window and steps back to his chair, lowering himself into it with a laughing exhale.

"Don't be ridiculous, Vivian," he tells her, "I don't trust you at all and I probably never will. However, if you want to secure my good graces, you'll do as I say without question."

She purses her mouth at him. "I'm not some brainless subordinate that you can order around, Mulciber. I've got my own plans I'm trying to enact for the Dark Lord."

He hums, resting his chin on his palm as he peers at her. There's a look in his eye that makes her a bit uncomfortable. It's difficult to describe, exactly, but it verges on the edge of humor without descending fully into it, and it possesses within its margins a hint of solemnity that contradicts the former quality. She is left feeling confused once more, for she finds that she cannot read him quite as well as she thought.

"Mmm, that's why I like you, Vivian. You're stubborn. So much so that you tried to get close to me by landing a job in my department, actually believing that with enough time, you'd be able to gain my trust," he says, and it hits the mark so thoroughly that Vivian cannot help but stare and wonder if she is really so transparent that he had immediately seen through her with such clarity.

She forces herself to calm down, though. After all, she already knew full well that Mulciber doesn't trust her, and that he must have known that she was up to something from the very first day of her working here. In any case, the entire point of this endeavor isn't to gain his trust but to secure a place near enough to him so that she can reforge some of her old connections. And, though she isn't particularly enthused at the prospect of attending the Halloween Night Gala, she has to admit that her endeavor is fast becoming a success, for she will certainly be able to reforge said connections by going to it. Whether Mulciber trusts her or not hardly matters. He simply has to give her an opening for which to operate, and by delivering her this invitation, he's done exactly that.

Vivian's mouth curves up, matching Mulciber's expression. She hums and nods, "Having you trust me is the last thing I care about, Adrian."

The use of his first name seems to surprise him for a moment. His eyebrows raise just so as he studies her, then he murmurs, "It would be much easier if you had a proper ally, though, don't you think? If you prove yourself with your spell, I might agree to take you under my wing, Vivian."

The use of her first name makes her purse her mouth. With a humorless snort, she says, "I suppose I don't have a choice, do I."

She already knows she doesn't. Regardless of the spell itself, she can't ignore an invitation to the Halloween Night Gala. There won't be another opportunity as good as this one to reintegrate herself into her old world. As long as she can stay separate from the Death Eaters themselves, and not integrate so far as to be further invited into their inner circle, she can do this.

Mulciber sends her that look again, the one she can't read, and says, "Let me know what color you'll be wearing. I'll make sure I match."

Vivian's responding smile is flat and scornful, and they both know that Vivian won't be doing anything of the sort.

As expected, Vivian's invitation to the Halloween Night Gala causes quite a stir among the Order. Well, that isn't fully true, actually. Dumbledore, when he receives the news, doesn't appear half as surprised as the rest of them, which leads Vivian to believe that he had been tentatively anticipating and even hoping for this turn of events. She isn't completely sure how she feels about that, especially since she has been so adamant about not venturing too far down the path she is now on.

A meeting is called soon after to discuss what she should do. Sirius is completely opposed to her attending, and he isn't quiet about it. When she had returned to the cottage that evening and showed him the invitation, his rejection of the idea had been swift and unapologetic. That, at least, had been something she'd expected.

"Why would he invite you to one of the most important gatherings of the year?" Sirius had asked, distrust blaring through his voice. "He could test the spell any time, with or without you. Why choose to do it at the Halloween Gala?"

It is a bit strange. Vivian can't blame him for his distrust of the whole thing, but neither can she think of a way out of it.

"It's a power play," she had told him. "He wants to put me where I'll be most vulnerable, where I have the fewest allies."

Adrian Mulciber does love his power plays, but that leads to another enigma that Sirius can't wrap his head around.

"But think of it, Vivian," he'd responded, "he's apparently lost favor with Voldemort, right? So how is it that his family will be the one to host the gala?"

Regardless of Sirius having been sorted into Gryffindor, he's very familiar with the way the pureblood world operates. They both know how much of an honor it is to host a dinner of this caliber. They also know that, if the Mulcibers were really suffering from lost favor, they wouldn't have that honor.

This has been something that Vivian's been struggling to figure out, too, for she had also reached this realization. Like Sirius, though, she doesn't have an answer. She can only guess, "Maybe it's only Adrian who lost respect? His parents have always been loyal to the Dark Lord, after all."

They both agree that this must be a part of the puzzle, but it still doesn't sit right with them as they take their leave of the cottage to meet up with Dumbledore and Moody later that evening. Mulciber had delivered the invitation at the last minute, and with Halloween Night only a week away, no time can be spared between now and then. An emergency meeting has therefore been called to hammer out a plan of action, though none of the other Order members are in attendance. It's all a bit too sudden for them to make it, and in any case, the events they will be discussing tonight will no doubt be brought up in more detail at the next meeting so as to get everyone else up to speed.

"So the boy hasn't tested your spell yet," is the first thing out of Moody's mouth when Vivian and Sirius join them.

This time, they aren't in muggle territory. Actually, they're near Hogsmeade, on the outskirts of town by the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Dumbledore hadn't been able to leave the grounds for long on account of some sort of Department of Education meeting he needs to attend soon after they finish things up. It's a bit haphazard, but they're far enough away from the streets of the small wizarding town that, even in the dying light of day, there's little chance of them being seen. That naturally doesn't stop Moody from putting up a few wards just in case, though, which he immediately does the very moment he ambles up to join them, muttering caustically to himself as he peers tensely around the small clearing they're gathered in.

Hearing him refer to Adrian as a boy would have normally roused an amused smirk onto Vivian's face. As it is, however, her mind is too stormy to make such allowances, and she merely turns to Dumbledore and says, "I've been invited to the Halloween Night Gala."

She hands over the invitation with a warring expression on her face, wishing that Dumbledore was a bit easier to read. He takes it with hardly an alteration in expression. Moody shuffles over to look it around his shoulder and lets out an unimpressed scoff as he scans the contents of it.

"Bloody bastards," he mutters beneath his breath. He scoffs about their so-called elite circles as he turns back to finish up his wards.

As for Dumbledore…

"I must admit that I was hoping you'd receive an invitation like this," he says after scanning the letter. With a solemn look in his eyes, he turns to Vivian and says, "You must attend, of course."

Now, despite Vivian not particularly liking being told what she must do, she had already reached the same conclusion long before and merely sighs. She knows she has to attend. Refusing an invitation to a gala of this importance wouldn't help her cement her new position, nor would it make her fellow purebloods believe her falsified allegiance to them. One quick glance over at Sirius tells her that he hasn't budged from his own position of adamant refusal, and she braces herself for what she knows is about to come.

It does, a moment later.

"You can't send her into the middle of this," he argues, brow furrowed. "The whole place will be crawling with every pureblood in England, and we all know that half of them are Death Eaters. It's suicide."

Vivian doesn't attempt to assert herself into the conversation. She merely waits to hear Dumbledore's response, which comes swiftly after.

"If she does not attend, the work we've done to prove her loyalty to Voldemort will be for nothing," he calmly responds.

This, naturally, isn't good enough for Sirius.

"None of that will matter if she ends up getting killed. We don't know what they're planning. It could be a trap," he counters.

"A trap? Perhaps. It is, at the very least, most certainly a test," is Dumbledore's reply.

Vivian raises an eyebrow at that. Sirius bristles.

Lifting a hand to silence Sirius's oncoming argument, Dumbledore sighs, "Vivian, this is your opportunity to prove yourself to them. I'm sure you're aware that, by not attending, it would only arouse suspicion."

She is aware of this, and merely nods. "I know. I reckon I don't have much of a choice in the matter."

Dumbledore doesn't make any indication that he agrees or disagrees with this assessment, but she can tell from the way he's peering at her that he thinks it imperative that she doesn't ignore the invitation. He hands the letter back to her and solemnly says, "As I said before, I won't make you do anything you do not wish to do, Miss Blair."

Being referred to by her surname sends her back momentarily to her days at Hogwarts, and for a moment, Dumbledore is her Headmaster once more. She feels small as she stands in the clearing. She wonders, not for the last time, if she will be able to do what she has set out to accomplish, or if perhaps she has bitten off more than she can chew.

But surely she can succeed. Surely, if she plays her cards right, she can remain firmly on the middle line that is drawn between the dark and the light. She has tried to keep herself as far from that darkness as possible in the last year, and she's been successful against all the odds stacked against her. She can succeed at this, too. After all, she has no intention of stepping off that line and embracing the shadows. If anything, should she reach an ultimatum, she will step in the other direction.

But there are so many layers of gray that she is not accounting for. So many pathways that crisscross, one over the other, all leading on to different destinations. Fate does not provide a single path to venture down, nor does it contain within its trajectory a smooth and simple lane. Free will trumps fate every time. The destination is there for the taking, but the soul alone will decide whether to take it or not. And the middle ground that Vivian is so set on walking? It is made up of those layers of gray, and it will not be quite as simple as she believes to avoid those shadowy corners. Good intentions have a way of going sideways on such a path.

"I don't like this," Sirius says, the voice of reason.

She looks over at him and sighs, "I don't either, but what else can I do?"

Later on, she will know the answer to that particular question. It is simply to do nothing. To let fate work its way through her life in whatever way it wishes, and to not attempt to sway its course. And yes, perhaps doing nothing is a cowardly thing to some, but sometimes you have to choose your battles and accept that not every fight requires your direct intervention.

But Vivian wants to be a part of this battle. For better or worse, she wants to take a stand. She's been on the sidelines from the very beginning, too afraid to move off the path she had walked all her life, too afraid to take the chance to alter her destination point. And now that she finally has, she wants to do it again. This fight is one that she can take part in, because no one else in the Order has the ability to venture so deeply into the pureblood world.

She knows this is why Dumbledore wishes her to attend. It isn't necessarily to prove that her spell works, or even to befriend Mulciber. It's to reassert herself in those circles, to keep her eyes and ears open to potential plans, to get closer to her pureblood associates and funnel information back to the Order. He wants her to be an informant, and though the thought had initially given her pause, she reckons it's the best way to stay one step ahead of Voldemort.

In any case, it won't be as if she's going into this gala alone. Mulciber may think she has no allies within pureblood society anymore, but he's wrong.

Regulus had told her that he wouldn't be able to help her if she brought his own loyalties into question, but they have a confusing connection and she knows that, regardless of his loyalties, he won't allow her to venture down that road by herself. He may not want to have anything to do with her goals, but she's got a feeling that he'll offer some semblance of support, even if only a little.

He told her to write him if anything happens that he should know about, and this is definitely something he ought to be made aware of, since he will undoubtedly be at that gala as well. Sirius may not like it, but Regulus is the key to all of this, whether either brother wants to be or not.