Chapter Two | Ordinandi lex

[Law of procedure]

On the outskirts of a muggle village by the name of Tinworth, in the rolling hills of the West Country, some miles from the coast, there exists a small cottage. The muggles living in the area can attest that this cottage has stood for as long as their eldest among them can recall, who, as he often repeats when the subject presents itself, had been constructed for the local shepherd. As such, the cottage is quite unremarkable in every sense of the word, containing four small rooms on the ground floor and a cramped attic used primarily to store such things of necessity. The only redeeming feature to be had is the presence of what once was a prosperous garden behind the house, which had in its day boasted an impressive array of plants, herbs, and vegetables alike; and the three apple trees lining the dirt path leading to the front door. Anyone happening upon this cottage would perhaps be filled with a morbid sense of appreciation for the way nature has overgrown it. Its presence on the outskirts of Tinworth has been ingrained into its residents' minds, and they have no quarrel with the it despite it having been empty for many years. Besides, this cottage is so removed from the rest of the village, and so far upon its outskirts, that the residents of Tinworth very rarely remember that it exists at all.

It has, like all houses who have reached an old age, seen a great many things in its time. Its shepherd had passed it to his son, who passed it to his son, and so on for some generations, until the cottage was passed to a lone daughter. This daughter, having remained unmarried in a time when spinsterhood was looked upon as an affliction to the female spirit, lived a quiet and isolated life until her own passing. Unmarried and childless, the cottage and property were brought into possession by the local magistrate of the town, who for the most part ignored its existence entirely. This perspective was taken on by the subsequent magistrate, and so on and so forth for several more generations, until at last the cottage came to be a local haunt of the village boys and left at that. Until one day, the cottage disappeared.

The disappearance of an entire house, however large or small it happens to be, ought to be cause of some concern for the local community, but the muggles living in the village of Tinworth hardly batted an eye. Even the village boys barely remembered its existence, for when they did follow the familiar path towards the abandoned home, they would often recall matters of great importance that could not be left for later, and would determine to return on the morrow once their chores and duties were completed; but on the morrow, more chores would be remembered, and so it would repeat.

The magistrate himself could hardly bother with rumors of the cottage's disappearance, for some weeks prior, the property had indeed been purchased by a Mr. Padfoot, and all documents completed and handed in with indisputable acumen. If this Padfoot fellow had decided to tear down the cottage, then it was within his right, and the magistrate did not care one way or the other. He was, to be perfectly frank, rather pleased to have finally made some money from the property, and was happy to be rid of it.

Of course, the cottage had not been torn down, nor had actually disappeared, but if any of the muggles happened to see it as it is now, they would surely think it was a different cottage entirely. It isn't, of course. In fact, it is in just as much disrepair as ever, and very much different from what Vivian Blair is accustomed to, for that matter.

"What do you think? It's perfect, right?"

Vivian's lip curls. She casts a glance at Sirius, who is charming several boxes to drift into the living room. Her expression is a mixture between incredulity and amusement as she watches Sirius grin at her.

"We're surrounded by muggles," she points out, deciding against reminding him of the frankly abhorrent state of the cottage. It's nothing a little magic can't fix, she supposes, and chooses to remain silent on that particular matter. After all, she had wanted this, and even though the run-down house is hardly the stately mansion she had grown up in, the man who is now crossing the room to where she stands rather makes up for it.

Sirius takes her shoulders and returns, "Which is the last place your father would look for you."

Vivian pauses at this, and after a grudging moment of further silence, she concedes with a slight smile. The second he sees it, Sirius's face breaks out into a deeper grin and he shuffles closer to her with a laugh.

"Look, it'll take a bit of patching up, but it's ours," he says. The gleeful passion behind his voice is enough to have her smiling wider in response. He laughs again and threads his fingers through hers, dragging her across the room eagerly. He walks through the kitchen to throw open the back door, revealing the overgrown garden and the rolling hills beyond it. It is a misty day, and the late afternoon sun that shines just so through the fog gives the impression that the world is aglow.

"When you said 'country house', I just didn't realize you meant country house," Vivian drawls at him as he pulls her outside. She casts him a sideways look and her mouth twitches up a bit more.

Sirius scoffs at her and puts an arm around her shoulders, nodding to the grassy expanse around them. "Oh come on, you can't tell me you don't like this…even if we are surrounded by muggles."

She hums lightly and, after a moment's hesitation, curls her arm around his waist. When she sees him smile smugly from the corner of her eye, she makes sure her voice is heavily sarcastic as she muses, "It has a few charms, I suppose."

She makes no mention of the main one, which happens to be standing by her side even now, but she doesn't really have to. Sirius turns his head to catch her eye, clearly trying to keep his smile at bay, and Vivian nudges him in the side and tries to pull away from him before he can call her out. Just as he's reaching out to catch her, though, a dry voice sounds from behind them, and rather ruins the moment. Then again, James Potter does have a habit of doing that.

"I thought you two were supposed to be unpacking, not romping around outside," James drawls with a highly inconvenienced sigh. To someone else, he adds, "Honestly, they can't do anything without me."

That someone else, who happens to be Remus, shakes his head at him and replies, "I think it's the other way around, actually," which earns him a shove in retribution. Behind Remus, Peter shifts uncomfortably, his hands wringing together in front of him and looking quite out of place.

Vivian groans, "Oh wonderful, you're all here now."

James's response to this is a prompt, "Yeah, and lucky we are, otherwise you'd never get anything accomplished." The gleam in his eye makes it clear why he thinks so. He shoots an amused grin at Sirius, whose smug expression makes it even more clear that he had received the message and is in agreement with it. Vivian snorts at them and pushes past James, shoving into his shoulder just because she can. She feels a righteous sense of pleasure when he stumbles.

"So…muggles on all sides," James says once he's regained his balance, and shoots a smirk at Vivian. "How do you feel about that, Pride? Scared? Uncomfortable?"

"Do you ever shut up?" Vivian grouses, and then shoves an unopened box into his arms and snaps, "Why don't you make yourself useful and help us unpack."

James sighs at her, but doesn't argue. The reason for this is because that is the exact reason the rest of the Marauders are even here to begin with.

"Fine, fine," James mutters, dropping the box onto the small kitchen table. "You really know how to pick 'em, Padfoot," he mumbles to his friend, though it is loud enough for them all the hear.

Vivian sends him an unimpressed glower, while Sirius grins. But then he glances over at her, and the quiet look in his eye has her glower softening so subtly that only he seems to notice.

"Yeah, I do," Sirius murmurs to her, for her ears only, and smirks at the way her cheeks flush just so as he edges past her. His hand drifts to her hip as he does. The unnecessary touch makes her flush all the more, but if the other Marauders notice, they don't make mention of it and merely begin to open boxes.

It would be a lie to claim that there are a lot of things to put away. Vivian has only what she'd brought from Hogwarts. She hadn't stepped foot back inside the Blair manor upon graduating a month and a half ago, figuring that it would be a death sentence if she did. Well, perhaps that is a bit dramatic, but she's positive that her father is furious with her and wouldn't risk facing him right now. As it is, she has only a few pairs of clothes besides her school uniforms, which are rather useless now that they are finished with Hogwarts. Several cloaks, a few grooming supplies, useless school equipment that she doubts she'll be using any time soon, and books make up the majority of her things, which are brought to the bedroom and left there for now. She'll go through her trunk in her own time, once the Marauders have taken their leave.

As for Sirius, he is in much the same position as her, considering that he, too, hasn't returned to his familial home in some years. Because he has been making his own way for longer than she has, though, he has a wider collection of personal items that he also tosses into the bedroom to look through later. When they haul their trunks within the small room, an unmarked tension presides over them for several moments before Vivian clears her throat and takes a quick leave of it. Sirius looks a bit amused at her inability to look towards the bed, but he thankfully holds his tongue for now. She's quite sure he's only doing so because the Marauders are still here, though.

"There're lots of muggle charity shops around London," Remus suggests as they unload the meager kitchen supplies that Mrs. Potter had given them. "You might be able to find some dishware there."

Mrs. Potter, bless her, had taken Vivian in the moment she heard Sirius's plans to find them a place before the end of summer, and upon their leave, had given them as many spare supplies that she could think of. Most of them are kitchen-related. Vivian hadn't had the heart to tell her that she has no idea how to cook. The fact that she had taken Vivian in at all, even if only for a short time, had been too gracious to sully. She still remembers Christmas as if it was yesterday, and the gentle care for which Mrs. Potter had bestowed upon her, stranger though she was.

James snorts at Remus's suggestion and laughs, "Moony, do you really think Pride would be caught dead in a charity shop?"

Vivian turns her attention to him and sends him another glower. "Shut it, Potter," she says, just because.

James snickers. "I'll bet you don't even know what a charity shop is, do you."

Vivian pauses and shoots a glance at Sirius, but he doesn't look like he's preparing to jump to her aid. He raises an eyebrow at her and waits to hear her answer, wearing a smirk that looks eerily similar to James's. After a long beat of silence, Vivian sweeps past them and sets another box onto the table in front of James, deciding not to answer. It doesn't really do her any good; her silence is answer enough, and James laughs loudly. She shoves him in retribution, just because.

It takes a few hours to unpack everything, but this is mainly due to the fact that the Marauders have a shite work ethic. Every few minutes, they pause to crack a joke or tease Vivian about the fact that she's living in muggle country. Vivian doesn't bother trying to get them to pay attention. After the first few failed attempts, she merely rolls her eyes at them and ignores them entirely. It's not that hard, really, because James is the one with the worst work ethic of them all, and she's already very accustomed to ignoring him anyhow. As for the rest, Remus calmly makes his way through most of the boxes singlehandedly; Sirius instigates James as often as possible; and Peter works quietly, shooting her glances every now and again as if he's afraid that, should he put something in the wrong place, she'll hex him. While they're unpacking, she turns her attention to a bit of cleaning, albeit grudgingly. Considering the fact that Vivian Blair has never needed to clean anything in her life, she isn't entirely sure what she's actually doing, and is quick to decide that housework is most certainly not her cup of tea.

By the time the sun is beginning to sink beyond the horizon, most of the boxes are unpacked save their trunks containing their personal belongings, the barren floors of the sitting room are relatively clean, and James is pulling out a paper bag that Mrs. Potter had filled with containers of food.

"You know," he says as he digs through the bag to see what his mum had made, "you should be grateful my mum likes you enough to cook you meals, Pride." He glances up at her with a slight smile.

Vivian drifts to the table, slipping her wand into her pocket with a sigh. "Yes, I know, you've told me this about a hundred times already."

To make a long story short: it has been utter hell living with James Potter these past few weeks. He's so annoyingly loud. The rest of his family is fine, but Vivian thinks his mum might've dropped him one too many times when he was a snotty little kid. Having Vivian in his house had taken him a long time to accustom himself to, and he hadn't been quiet about it. The teasing remarks about her and Sirius had very nearly made her hex him on more than one occasion, which had naturally only served to amuse him all the more.

James keeps up a near-constant stream of conversation as they sit down to eat his mum's cooking, divvying it up onto the plates she had sent with them. Remus even procures a bottle of Ogden's, which he claims is a housewarming gift. Of course, it doesn't stop the Marauders from commandeering it. Well, all except one. Sirius doesn't indulge overmuch, and keeps shooting looks at Vivian whenever James asks if he wants a refill. She pretends that she doesn't see, because every time he does, her heart gives an annoying thrill in her chest that makes it rather difficult to breathe. She thinks she knows why he keeps looking at her like that, but doesn't dare call him out on it with the others nearby.

Thankfully, with most of the unpacking concluded, she doesn't have to wait very long for them to leave. After they finish with dinner, Remus, who had also refrained from drinking as much as James and Peter, tells them that he'll see them at the Order meeting at the end of the week and drags his two friends away before they can cause more of a ruckus. Sirius laughs and watches them go, listening to James indignantly inform Remus that, "I didn't even drink that much – ow, why're you ruining my fun – "

Remus murmurs something to him beneath his breath as Vivian stands up to magic the dishes into the sink, just as James responds to whatever it was that Remus had said.

"Ooooh, you think Padfoot and Pride are going to get down and dirty – " he loudly begins, and then Remus shuts the door behind them before he can finish his sentence. The damage has already been done though. Sort of.

As a silence descends upon Padfoot and Pride, the former smirks at the latter and drawls, "You know, I didn't realize your face could get that red, Godric."

Vivian scowls at him, but evidently doesn't have anything to say because she remains staunchly silent. She stews in her embarrassed for a few moments before Sirius chuckles and gets up from the table. He approaches her slowly, as if he thinks she might bolt. When she doesn't, he takes her waist and pulls her into him, leaning down to brush his mouth against hers.

It's a quiet sort of kiss, but it's always the quiet ones you've got to watch out for. Before long, Vivian is reaching up to tangle her fingers into his hair and urge him closer, and Sirius is breathing out and deepening their kiss as he presses her against the counter. A slow heat unfurls between them, calm and steady but possessing within it a potential for getting quite lost in the other, if they aren't careful. Of course, it ought to be noted that Sirius Black is rarely ever careful, and much prefers to throw caution to the wind whenever possible. Vivian Blair, however…

She breaks the kiss with a short inhalation that could have been a gasp, if she doesn't tamper it down. Sirius tries to edge closer, ducking his head to kiss her again, but she turns her face with a smile and his mouth instead captures her cheek. Plans foiled, he sighs against said cheek and mutters, "…Right. We're going slow."

He sounds rather despondent about this, which only makes her smile curl into an amused smirk. "We've still got boxes to go through," she reminds him with a lifted brow. Her expression is just shy of challenging when she adds, "Well, don't just stand there," and pushes him towards the remaining few boxes that are waiting nearby on the floor of the sitting room.

Sirius grunts and pulls away, running a hand through his hair. He eyes her for a long moment before muttering, "This is starting to feel like a detention."

Vivian laughs at this and, after another moment, he joins in.

The remainder of the boxes contain items that Sirius had purchased over the years. Together, they go through a rather impressive collection of records. Vivian, with her limited understanding of the confusing ways of muggle, gets a rather thorough explanation of how vinyl records work, how Sirius had discovered them, and the merits of each one he possesses. He details every single record in his collection with an exuberance that makes her smile quietly at him. His passionate explanation is rather endearing, so she doesn't interrupt.

"So Remus's suggestion was actually a pretty good one," he says as they open the last box.

Within it are smaller knickknacks that they will have to find places for, probably once they get some actual furniture. As it is, they've only got the small kitchen table right now, no couches or chairs for the sitting room, no other articles for which to sit, and only a bed and an extra mattress from the Potters, which they'll be returning once they find one of their own. Vivian has never lived like this before and, considering her lack of worldly knowledge, is glad that she has Sirius to show her the ropes. So far, she isn't sure what she thinks about being independent, but perhaps once they turn this place into more of a home, it will feel different.

She glances up at Sirius and wonders, "What is a charity shop, anyway?"

A few months ago, she would have cringed at the thought of him knowing something that she doesn't. Then again, a few months ago, Vivian was adamantly pretending that she wasn't in love with him and that she had absolutely no desire to change her circumstances. A lot can change, really, in such a short time.

Sirius smirks at her question, looking like he's enjoying her wayward admission of not knowing. She resists the urge to shove him and merely waits for his response.

"It's a second-hand store. They mostly have used clothes, but I'm sure we could find some furniture too," he shrugs.

Vivian looks faintly horrified.

"Second-hand furniture?" she repeats. "Used clothes?"

Sirius raises an eyebrow at her, studies the look on her face, and snorts out a laugh. "You are such a pureblood."

This time, she does shove him, but Sirius manages to curl his arm around her waist and drag her along with him onto the floor, where he laughs as she tries to wrangle free.

"Why would anyone wear used clothes?" she demands as she attempts to pry his hand off her waist.

Sirius only looks more amused at the indignancy in which she poses this question, and snickers, "Well we aren't going to spend all our money on brand new things, Vivi. Once my Uncle Alphard's inheritance runs out, that's it."

Now, there are two things that summons a quiet blush to Vivian's face as she finally manages to remove his hand. The first is the way he had said 'our money', as if he truly thinks of it as theirs and not just his. The second is, of course, the way he had said 'Vivi'. She likes to claim that this nickname makes her cringe, but the truth of the matter is that her heart tends to skip a beat whenever he uses it. Judging from the way he turns his head to catch her eye, studying the rising blush on her cheeks with a perceptive expression, he is definitely aware of this.

A slow smirk edges over his mouth. His hand curls back around her waist and pulls her closer. The hard floor beneath them is rather uncomfortable, but Vivian doesn't entirely mind. Her arguments die down as she is tugged against him, and she doesn't currently have the tenacity to revive them. Instead, she raises a hand to push his hair away from his forehead and leans down to kiss him.

It still feels incredibly strange, kissing him so freely. But these are not the halls of Hogwarts where caution controls their actions. They are very much alone, now, without any hinderances or interruptions. They can do whatever they like.

"We should go to bed. It's been a long day," Sirius murmurs into the kiss, his hand still resting against her waist and holding her there, unwilling to let go. She doesn't respond to him at first, mainly because she's a bit too busy dragging his lower lip into her mouth and brushing her tongue over it, enjoying the slow inhalation he rewards her with, drawing her fingers over the line of buttons that dip down his shirt…

And then, with a quiet inhalation of her own, Vivian pulls away and nods, "Alright then. Goodnight, Sirius."

Sirius looks quite confused.

"Wait, what?" he asks.

She sits up and raises an eyebrow at him. "We've only been together for a few months, and most of that time was spent with the Potters."

He pauses with a confused frown. "…So?"

She rolls her eyes at him. "So. Considering how new our relationship is, I'm not going to rush into anything with you."

Sirius sits up too and sarcastically returns, "You mean like buying a house?"

This time, it's her turn to pause. "That's – that's besides the point," she stubbornly tells him.

It's his turn to raise an eyebrow. "I'm only saying that moving in together is already a pretty big step."

She lifts her chin. "Yes, which is why I've already told you that we should take everything else slow."

"Yes, and I've already told you that I'm a gentleman where it counts and I won't ask anything of you that you're uncomfortable with."

"Well then, I fail to see why we're even having this conversation."

"We're having this conversation because I don't know why it's such a big deal to sleep in the same room."

"I never said it was, but you're still staying in the guest bedroom tonight."

"But we only have a spare mattress – "

"You could sleep on the floor, if you'd prefer."

"Vivian, you're being cruel," he whines.

She nearly tells him that she doesn't give a shite, but then thinks better of it and sighs, "…I don't mean to be. I'm just not used to…to being alone with you…like this."

Her awkward explanation doesn't surprise him, of course, since he figured it was the reason, but he still frowns at her nonetheless and mumbles, "Well let me get some clothes, at least." His voice is grudgingly reluctant. She looks faintly amused, but only just. Still, he notices and grumbles, "I still think it's cruel of you."

She stands up and takes his hand to haul him up beside her. Then, reaching out to cup his face, she pulls him into a brief kiss and whispers, "You promised we'd take things slow, Sirius."

Against her mouth, he mumbles, "It's a bit harder than I thought it'd be, is all." He gives her a look that reminds her of passionate kisses in the owlery of Hogwarts, with the cold wind bracing against them; and pressed against the library shelves, his hand palming her thigh, his mouth bringing her to places she hadn't known existed.

"I want to," she tells him, feeling a bit bolder as she recalls all of this, "but this is really new for me, Sirius – "

"I know," he gently interrupts. "You don't have to explain, Vivian. I can be patient…I think."

She can't quite help herself from drawling, "Can you?", her eyes twinkling with mirth.

He grins at her and straightens his shoulders. "Yes. Definitely. Now about those clothes…"

When he lingers in the bedroom upon gathering several things from his trunk, Vivian doesn't immediately remark upon it. Even when he swoops in to kiss her goodnight and lingers there, too, she can't quite bring herself to push him away. The truth is, she doesn't really want to, but her pureblood heart is full of caution and when she gives all of herself to him, she doesn't want there to be any such thing holding her back. She wants that moment to be unhindered and weightless; a wave that she doesn't fight against, that she surrenders to entirely, without pause or hesitation. And even though a large part of her would like to pull him closer and tell him that she's changed her mind, instead she shuffles him backwards towards the door even as his lips linger on hers, and Sirius doesn't complain.

They will, after all, have many nights together to explore such things, and so he just sends her a quiet smile, presses his mouth once more to hers, and whispers, "Goodnight, Vivian."

An endearing smile spreads over her face. He'd be lying if he said it didn't make his heart splutter in his chest.

"…Goodnight, Sirius," she whispers back, hand on his chest and tempted to drag him back. But she doesn't, not quite yet, and just watches him back away with one last grin before closing the door behind him. And, breathing out, Vivian turns back to look at the barren room that has not yet been made theirs, with only a bed and their school trunks to fill the space, and finds herself leaning her head back against the door with a grin of her own.

Perhaps, later, she will regret not taking every chance to be with Sirius when they had the opportunity, but for now, her heart is too shaky with fresh affection to think on it.