A/N: :) Hope you all have a great week!
Chapter Twenty Four | Ride si sapis
[Laugh if you are wise]
It's been nearly two weeks since the last time she saw James Potter. Two blissful, wonderfully peaceful weeks.
"When are we leaving? I wanted to relax today," Vivian drones from the couch as she flicks through a gardening magazine. Before anyone judges her choice in reading material, she'd just like to say that it was the only thing on the coffee table, and in her experience, anything is better than dealing with James Potter face to face. At least she can distract herself with learning a few new species of flower while he prattles on about Merlin knows what.
Beside her, Sirius laughs. James shakes his head at her, looking faintly offended. Mrs. Potter, angelic woman that she is, sets down a tray of sandwiches before cheerfully bustling out of the room.
"Don't be rude, Pride," James sniffs, reaching for a sandwich and taking a hearty bite. His voice is somewhat muffled when he says, "You didn't have to come."
Vivian eyes him over the magazine with a disdainful expression, watching him noisily chew. Merlin, he's such a pig. What does Lily see in him?
Anyway, back to the situation at hand. She did have to come. Sirius made her. She didn't have a choice. And she will be getting him back for this at some point in the near future.
It's midweek. Vivian had come home from work only an hour before, very much looking forward to spending the rest of her evening relaxing and getting some paperwork finished up for Mrs. Jones' case, which is still unfortunately circling through the lower courts and demanding far more of Vivian's attention than it ought to. Alas, the moment she had entered the cottage, Sirius had intercepted her on her way to their room, told her they were leaving in ten minutes, and didn't bother telling her where they were going until they appeared in Godric's Hollow on the Potters front porch. His decision to not inform her of their destination had made sense the moment she had opened her eyes and saw the familiar house. He knew she never would've agreed to come otherwise.
Damned Gryffindor.
Anyway, James has been his usual annoyingly loud self when they had stepped inside, greeting Sirius as if he hasn't seen him for months rather than two measly weeks and trying to give Vivian a boisterous hug (which she had successfully sidestepped) before dragging them all into the sitting room for a 'discussion of grand proportions'.
Now, considering that this is James Potter, that could literally mean anything. The man's ridiculously dramatic.
"You know, you could've come over to our place," Sirius says as he leans forward to take a sandwich as well. He sends his best mate a grin and adds, "You've got an open invitation."
Beside him, Vivian silently narrows her eyes at Potter, completely renouncing Sirius's words with a single look. James coughs when he sees it, swallowing his sandwich the wrong way.
"The last time I showed up unannounced, I was nearly hexed over a bagel," James mournfully reminds Sirius, shooting Vivian a narrowed look, too.
Sirius glances between them, sees the look on Vivian's face, and rolls his eyes.
"You were interrupting a very pleasant morning," Vivian snidely says.
James's eyes flash with amusement. "Believe me, Pride, seeing you and Sirius rolling around in bed wasn't exactly something I needed to witness."
Vivian's eyes narrow a touch more at that. She haughtily drawls, "You might get hexed over a sandwich if you're not careful, Prongs."
In times past, James would have gotten inordinately annoyed at her usage of his most illustrious and dishonorable nickname. Today, he merely sniffs and leans back, taking another bite of sandwich and muttering, "I forgot how absolutely delightful you were, Pride."
Before Vivian can issue a sharp response to that, Sirius snorts and lays an arm over the back of the couch behind her. He wryly says, "As much as I'm enjoying seeing you two bond, why'd you want us to come over, James?"
The question successfully derails the brewing argument between Pride and Prongs, and James sits up with a happy gleam in his eyes to loudly declare, "Right, well I wanted to inform you, Padfoot, that as the back-up leader of the Marauders, you're going to be my Best Man at the wedding."
For the sake of an old and inconclusive argument, let it be said that while Padfoot does appreciate the honor of being named Best Man (it's only right, after all), he does not appreciate the term 'back-up leader'.
He barks out a laugh and shakes his head as if he thinks James is being ridiculous. "You still seem the be under the impression that you're the leader?"
And just like that, whatever attempt at discussing Sirius being named Best Man flies right out the window.
"I am the leader. Moony and Wormtail also agree."
"Alright, so you're a stand-in leader. On occasion, when I'm not around."
"No, I'm the leader."
"What makes you so convinced of that, Prongs?"
Prongs snorts and immediately returns, "Because I was the one who formed the Dishonorable Maraudership, you might recall."
Padfoot would beg to differ.
"I don't recall that, actually. The Maraudership was formed at the end of second year and I specifically remember being named the – "
"It was formed at the start of third year, actually."
"…No it wasn't. We had the first meeting on the Hogwarts Express, and we were en route to King's Cross."
"No, we were on our way to Hogwarts. Padfoot, this is exactly why I'm the natural-born leader of the Marauders. You don't even remember when we had our first meeting – "
"What was your meeting about?" Vivian suddenly asks, trying in vain to keep the laughter out of her voice. She smirks and sarcastically wonders, "Let me guess: which one of you had the best hairstyle? Merlin's Pants. I can't believe I fell for you, Sirius. You're so pathetic."
Sirius's mouth parts in offense. "Excuse me! I was twelve, cut me some slack!"
Across the table, James sniffs, "You were going on thirteen, actually – "
"Shove off, Prongs, now you're just splitting hairs."
"Anyway, if we did cover that topic during our first meeting, I naturally would have been given that honor," James smugly says, and runs a hand through his thick hair.
Sirius sends him a glowering look. Everyone knows, after all, that he's the Marauder with the best hair.
"You two haven't grown up at all," Vivian idly sighs, and flicks a page of the magazine. Then, with a hum, she wonders, "As an Honorary Marauder or whatever, do I get a say in who's the leader?"
Both Prongs and Padfoot pause at that. It's clear that they've never precisely defined the exact role of the Honorary Marauder and what sort of dishonorable responsibilities one might have. To Vivian's amusement, James looks like he's actually considering it.
"I'm not sure, Pride. Your past as a Slytherin gives me pause," he tells her.
She rolls her eyes at him.
"Just for that snide comment, I'm officially naming Padfoot as the leader. Shame, if you hadn't gone there it might've been you, Prongs," she drawls, eyeing a photo of a purple cone flower.
Padfoot smirks widely. Prongs just snorts, "Nice try, Pride, but seeing as we have a very modern, democratic Marauder-based system, we all know you don't have the final say. Besides, it was decided ages ago that Padfoot would make a terrible leader."
"Why's that?" Padfoot demands, crossing his arms.
Prongs sends him an arched brow and nods over at Vivian. "You're tendency for obsessively stalking Slytherins, naturally."
Vivian hums and concedes, "He does have a good point, Sirius."
This goes on for a while. A lot longer than Vivian would like to admit. Finally, after spending a ridiculous amount of time rehashing the old argument of the true leader of the Dishonorable Marauders (which ends up devolving into more of an insult war than an actual discussion, of course), the topic returns to the reason why Sirius and Vivian are here.
"Of course I'll be your Best Man, mate," Sirius grins, promptly forgetting the insult war that had only just happened.
James grins back and happily says, "Brilliant."
As for Vivian, she only heaves a sigh, mutters, "Did I really need to be here for this?", and flips another page of the magazine.
Dress shopping isn't really Vivian's thing. Especially in a muggle clothing store, with Marlene McKinnon at her side as she listens to Lily go back and forth between the dress with the crystals sewn into the bust and the one with the flowing, chiffon skirt.
"Merlin's Pants, just pick one," Vivian grumbles beneath her breath as she lounges on a little sofa outside the dressing room. Honestly, it's just a dress.
The assistant who has been tasked to go and find a few more options pauses to shoot Vivian a weird look, like because of the phrase 'Merlin's Pants', which is not something one hears in the muggle world. Vivian arches her eyebrow at her with a glower and the woman hastens towards the dressing room, looking creeped out. Vivian listens to Lily profusely thanking her while she rolls her eyes.
Beside her, Marlene snorts, turning to eye Vivian. Vivian turns to eye her as well, wondering why Marlene's expression is so dry.
"You really don't want to be here, do you," Marlene calls her out, though she at least makes sure to keep her voice down so that Lily doesn't hear.
Crossing her arms, Vivian mumbles, "I just wasn't planning on spending my lunch hour helping Evans pick out a wedding dress. I mean, am I even in her bridal party?"
Marlene's expression shifts to one of incredulity. "Yeah, obviously. Why else would you be here? Besides, Sirius's is James's Best Man."
Ah right. How could she forget? It's only been a few days since that lovely conversation had happened, in which James Potter had thoroughly disrupted Vivian's otherwise peaceful evening yet again, as he's wont to do. Since then, Sirius has been smugly reminding her on a daily basis about her agreement that he is the rightful leader of the Marauders, which she's been thoroughly regretting ever having said.
Anyway, Sirius had been quite agreeable with being named James's Best Man, as it's only natural that he would be given such an honor, and when he'd slipped an arm around Vivian's shoulders before they'd left the Potters house and made a comment about her being Lily's bridesmaid, James had laughed and shrugged, 'Yeah, but you're not allowed to act like a Slytherin, Pride'. Whatever that means.
Back to the scene at hand, though:
How Vivian, Marlene, and Lily ended up here, on a Thursday afternoon, is a long story. It involves Vivian being ambushed on her way out of the Ministry during her lunch hour and dragged to this unassuming bridal shop in Muggle London by a certain messy-haired Marauder, because apparently his ladylove had decided all spur of the moment to try finding 'the dress she's going to become my wife in' and that Vivian 'had to come along and please don't glare at the muggles, Pride'. James Potter had then left her on the front steps of said bridal shop, sent her a halfhearted smile (because by then she was glaring at him), and disappeared before she could consider breaking the Statute of Security by drawing her wand on him and hexing him into the side of the nearest building.
Needless to say, Vivian isn't really that happy to be here. And also, she's hungry.
Gavin Clarke, Ravenclaw extraordinaire and bonified expert concerning hungry and irritable Slytherins, would have known better than to mess with her during her lunch break.
Speaking of Gavin, she'll have to owl him soon and ask him for advice on how to get Potter back for this, because she is not pleased with his latest meddling. Gavin's always had such good ideas on how to mess with Potter, and Vivian very much approves of his Ravenclaw vengeance. It's so delightfully exacting.
Even though Sirius had been named Best Man, the honor of being Lily's Maid of Honor has gone to Marlene. Marlene and Lily have been best friends for years, after all, so it's hardly surprising. Vivian's glad of it anyway. If she's being honest, she'd rather not be in the bridal party at all. Mainly because if she wasn't, she'd be eating lunch right now.
"Why're you dress shopping already, Lily?" Vivian grumbles when Lily comes out of the dressing room wearing another white gown. "You haven't even set a date for the wedding yet."
She's not sure how things are done in the muggle world – or, for that matter, the middle class world – but none of her pureblood friends would have ever bothered shopping for a dress this early. It would be more likely that they'd hire a dressmaker and have it made from scratch a few months before the wedding. This custom that Vivian is currently partaking in is definitely not one that she's familiar with and she feels like it's a waste of time.
Lily doesn't, though. She isn't from the world of pureblood society and this is apparently what people do.
"I need to find a dress soon or else I won't have anything to wear," she responds, not taking offense to Vivian's grumbled words. "It usually takes months for the dress to be tailored, after all. I have to get on the waiting list."
Vivian raises an eyebrow and, as she studies the dress Lily's currently wearing, shrugs, "You're a witch, Lily. Take it to the tailors at Diagon Alley, they'll have it fixed up in two minutes."
The assistant turns to eye Vivian again, whose expression turns confused at the look she receives. Until she realizes that she just called Lily a witch, and apparently that's considered very rude in the muggle world. As before, the assistant sends Vivian another weird look before clearing her throat and stepping away from the strange group she's helping, handing out a haphazard excuse before disappearing back into the dressing room to put some of the gowns away.
Marlene bites back a laugh and says, "Lily wants to do things the muggle way for some reason."
Lily rolls her eyes at them and huffs, "I'm a muggleborn, of course I want to do things the muggle way. My whole family will be expecting that it will take months for the dress to be fitted." She gives a little turn, the gown flowing out around her legs, and adds, "It would look suspicious otherwise."
This is a fair enough point, though Vivian still thinks it's silly. Lily's desire to do things the muggle way only means dragging things out and complicating everything more than it needs to be. She doesn't say anything further on the subject, though. It's not as if it's her decision, and perhaps Lily is right. Her extended family would likely be suspicious, especially since they're no doubt going to be involved with helping plan everything out.
"What do you both think of this one?" Lily wonders, eyeing the flowing skirts. "I like the chiffon."
Marlene hums and shrugs, "It looks nice."
Vivian grunts in agreement.
Lily sighs, "Only nice? I want something extraordinary. Something that will make James's jaw drop."
With a sly smirk, Vivian offers, "I might know a spell that would accomplish that."
Lily sends her a look and firmly says, "There will be no hexing my groom on my wedding day, Vivian."
Vivian just shrugs and idly says, "It was just a suggestion."
Shame.
Lily tries on a few more dresses. She seems to be gravitating towards more flowy skirts. She finds one that she likes, but she's not sure about the line of buttons going up the back. Vivian agrees with her assessment that it looks a bit matronly. Honestly, though, without sounding too friendly and thus ruining her reputation, Vivian has to say that Lily looks good in nearly all the dresses she tries on. She reckons James's jaw would drop no matter what she wears. Still, Lily wants something stunning, and by the end of their allotted hour, she hasn't quite found it yet.
"Does this mean I have to come during my lunch break again?" Vivian sighs as they all traipse outside (much to the assistant's relief).
Lily sends Vivian an amused glance and laughs, "No, I'll try to schedule it on the weekend next time. I'm sorry for dragging you here so last minute."
Marlene nods and adds, "If it's any consolation, it was just going to be Lily and I until James got wind of the plans."
One eyeroll later, and Vivian is muttering, "No surprise there."
Lily laughs again. "I'm glad you're here, though. I had a nice time with you and Marlene today. Next time, let's make sure we go to lunch afterwards, okay?"
Vivian sends Lily a faint smile and responds, "Yeah, sounds nice. Owl me?"
After a brief goodbye, Vivian heads back to the Ministry. She makes sure to swing by the break station just off the Atrium before heading to her office. As she's selecting a large muffin and preparing a cup of tea, the door opens and she turns to see Adrian stepping inside. He must have seen her on her way in, likely on his way back to the office too. If Vivian remembers correctly, he had a lunch meeting with a client today.
"You're ten minutes late," he tells her, sweeping forward to pour himself a glass of water.
Vivian sends him a fake smile and shrugs, "So are you."
He smiles coldly in return and murmurs, "We haven't spoken much since our little moment at the gala."
He leans against the edge of the counter by the coffee pot and sips his water, his eyebrows lifting as he catches Vivian's eye.
She hums, "Our moment? That's a fanciful way to describe what happened."
He chuckles, though the sound is far from genuine, and replies, "I've handed the spell over. He's very pleased with it. I've been ordered to invite you to the next gathering as a…thank you." His mouth swings up into another cold smile, though this time it looks more like a grimace.
Vivian pauses in the midst of bobbing her tea bag into her mug of steaming water. She slowly raises her eyebrows, repeating, "Another invitation? You don't seem very happy about it."
Adrian scoffingly mutters, "You're not exactly my favorite person in the world, Vivian. Besides, there's going to be a lot of important members there and I don't want you making me look bad."
Well, that she can believe. Still, she feels a bit surprised at receiving another invitation so soon after the first. To say she hadn't been expecting it is an understatement, despite this being her goal all along. She must have made a good impression with the spell if the Dark Lord himself wants her there.
The thought makes her pause yet again. In a careful voice, she murmurs, "Will he be there?"
She's not sure she wants to meet him in person. It seems like she'd be asking for trouble. Though she prides herself in keeping her mask firmly in place, the Dark Lord has ways of seeing beyond such a thing, and she's fearful that he might realize that her intentions don't align with his. She'd rather not consider the repercussions of such a realization, should he reach it, but she reckons they wouldn't bode well for her.
Adrian shrugs, "Probably not. He rarely attends gatherings. Too much publicity, you know."
Then, in a casual tone, he adds, "You'd have to be invited to a meeting within the inner circle to meet him in person." He peers at her with a raised eyebrow and idly wonders, "Would you like to be?"
She straightens her back and responds, "No. I'm more of a 'watch from the sidelines' type of person."
For some reason, this seems to amuse him. He smirks at her and drawls, "Yeah, you are, aren't you."
She eyes him suspiciously and asks, "What's that supposed to mean?"
He doesn't give her a clear answer. Instead, Adrian merely says, "He's expressed interest in having you create a few more spells. It would secure his favor if you agreed. What do you say?"
A few more spells?
"What kind of spells?" she asks, sounding stiff. Seeing how the first one turned out, she's not certain she wants to go down that particular road again.
Adrian, though, doesn't sound overly concerned when he responds, "I'm not sure. He doesn't tell me everything, Vivian."
His flippant reply doesn't make her feel any better. She can only imagine that whatever other spell the Dark Lord would be interested in her creating will be just as dark as the first.
"…He's also expressed interest in moving you up the ladder," Adrian says a moment later, eyeing her speculatively as he leans against the counter. "He's been trying to infiltrate the courts for a while now, and with your help, we can do it faster."
Vivian pauses yet again, though this time she's quicker to reply when she drawls, "I've only just started working here. It would probably look strange for me to be promoted so quickly."
He only shrugs, "You'll soon discover that our Lord has quite a few connections. Some of which might surprise even you, Vivian." He sends her a sarcastic smile and purrs, "He can do whatever he wishes, and if he wants you to step up, then I'd caution you against hesitating. He prefers his followers to be obedient in all things."
She'd have to be deaf not to hear the warning in his tone. Once again, she's struck with the strange feeling that he knows something he isn't telling her, and she frowns at him.
"I don't create spells anymore," she says firmly. "And as for helping infiltrate the courts, that's your thing, isn't it? If you think you can't handle it though, then by all means, I'll help."
She smiles coldly at him. Adrian smiles back, tensing slightly at the insult in her words.
"Careful, Vivian," he tells her after a moment. "You shouldn't get too confident. Just because he's pleased with you doesn't mean he trusts you yet."
Vivian only snorts and scoffingly replies, "It looks to me as if he doesn't trust you very much, either, otherwise he would've given you more responsibilities."
With that, she sends him one more cool smile and takes her leave. Adrian just hums into the rim of his glass with a faint smirk and doesn't try to stop her.