Chapter Three | A maximis ad minima
[From the largest to the smallest]
The first Order meeting doesn't go entirely as planned. If Sirius had been expecting to be given a dangerous mission right off the bat, he is sorely disappointed. Rather than assignments involving a degeneration into duels and fighting, Dumbledore seems more interested in obtaining information, which is decidedly tedious, at least to the Marauders, who would much prefer more excitement. The nature of the missions aside, there are other aspects of the meeting that seem to give them pause. Such as the fact that Dumbledore has invited them to a muggle pub, the wide range of other members in attendance, and the fact that Dumbledore is, for the first time in the Marauders' memories, not dressed in long, flowing robes. Vivian almost doesn't recognize the man, though that could potentially be attributed to the fact that she's a bit busy sending glowering looks at the nearby muggles, who return her untrusting stares with strange looks of their own. Evidently, they have never seen a large group of witches and wizards before, a notion quite comparable to the fact that Vivian has never seen quite so many muggles before, either.
"Stop staring at them," Sirius murmurs at her as he drags her along with him. His fingers are loosely holding her arm from where he had taken it moments before, and she isn't sure she appreciates it. She also isn't sure she appreciates the shred of amusement in his voice.
"They're staring at me," she mutters back, feeling oddly self-conscious in a way she can't quite explain. It's not as if she's never been around muggles before, but she's never been around so many at once before. It's evening, nearing six o'clock, and so the pub is rather busy. She knows that the attention is likely due to the fact that so many of her fellow wizards are gathered together, but it still feels distinctly odd. Not quite as odd as Dumbledore wearing muggle clothes, though. Having little knowledge of muggle fashion as a whole, Vivian can at least claim to know that a bright yellow corduroy suit isn't what one would consider normal. She can thank Rosalind and her rubbish magazines for this knowledge, not that it does any good.
"Ah, good, I believe everyone has arrived," Dumbledore murmurs, standing tall and obnoxiously colorful as he glances at the crowd of wizards gathered in the main room of the pub. Vivian eyes his turquoise tie with a doubtful expression.
Their old Headmaster leads the way through a corridor that takes them to a small room off the side of the pub, of which will apparently serve as their base of operations for the time being. The moment they step inside the room, an angry looking wizard with a wooden leg shoulders past them and immediately begins scouring the place, though for what Vivian isn't sure. He only stops when Dumbledore calmly says, "Rest assured, we are quite safe here, Alastor."
Ah. Vivian recognizes him now. Alastor Moody is an Auror, and certainly one of the tougher ones at the Ministry. She vaguely recalls her father speaking about him during a breakfast long past; derisive words coupled with an unimpressed sneer.
"…Can't be too sure, Albus," Alastor mutters, and eyes the room as if he suspects the very walls have ears. Then his eyes land on her, and Vivian isn't sure she likes the way his brows furrow together. "You're the Blair girl, then?" he gruffly asks, studying her with a baleful expression.
Vivian eyes him back and responds, "My name is Vivian." Her eyes narrow too, which seems to annoy him and impress him at the same time, because he snorts beneath his breath even as his eyebrows unfurrow.
"Well…good. We'll make use of you," he mutters, which Vivian also isn't sure she likes, but she decides to remain silent for now because others are now filtering into the room behind them.
The room is quite small, almost too small for their own modest number. A long table takes up most of it, with only a few feet of space between its edge and the wall, which is an ugly tan shade that makes the windowless room seem even more claustrophobic. They are forced to press themselves sideways around the table just to get to their seats, which takes several more minutes than it ought to. Vivian sits down beside Sirius and clenches her fingers together in her lap, feeling rather out of place.
"Thank you all for coming. I am glad to see many familiar faces in our midst," Dumbledore says after the room finally falls silent. He casts a glance at James, Remus, and Peter, who are sitting on Sirius's other side, then shifts his gaze to Lily, who had come at the behest of James himself, for reasons she has yet refused to share with the rest of them (but really, judging from the way her and James keep glancing at each other with stupid looks on their faces, explanations are unnecessary).
Besides the Marauders, Honorary Marauders, and the grisly Auror who had deemed not to sit down and is standing near the door with a narrowed, hooded expression, the other occupants of the table are unknown to Vivian, with the exception of a few. Marlene McKinnon, that annoying Gryffindor girl who Sirius used to occasionally fawn over, is here. Two other Gryffindors whose names Vivian can't recall are sitting near McKinnon. Other than that, though, Vivian can't claim to have met any of the others.
"I'm sure you all know, or have at least heard of, Alastor Moody," Dumbledore says, gesturing to the Auror with a sweep of his hand. "For those newcomers amongst us, he'll be leading the meetings during those moments when I find it difficult to leave my post at Hogwarts. Now, Edgar, let's open the meeting with news from the Ministry, shall we?"
Edgar Bones's sister, Amelia, works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. His sister is not in the Order and whether or not she knows about her brother's ties to it, Vivian isn't sure. It's clear that Edgar gets much of his information from Amelia, however, because he preludes his explanation with 'Amelia told me…', as if he wants Dumbledore to be sure that he isn't the original source of the information.
Dumbledore's desire for information seems to be his main focus. It makes sense, of course. Knowing the enemy's move before it is put into action makes it far easier to conduct a countermove. This is a game of strategy; a tactician's paradise. The only problem is that the Death Eaters don't like to follow the rules.
" – And another murder last week, I'm sure you heard," Edgar is saying. "The Dark Mark was seen above the house."
Dumbledore nods, "Yes…it was in the muggle newspaper as well. Alastor, you're working the case, are you not?"
Moody snorts. In a gruff voice, he responds, "Nothing was found to link the attack to anyone in particular. They're slippery bastards, Albus. I'll get to the bottom of it, though…" He trails off with a dark look blazing through his eyes.
It isn't until another half hour passes that assignments are given. Most of them aren't assignments so much as 'keep doing what you're doing'. Those members who are already working in full-time positions will continue keeping their eyes and ears open, while the actual missions are really more in line with glorified spying operations, the likes of which don't appear to satisfy Sirius at all. He holds his tongue, though. Despite his desire for action, even he knows the importance of preparation and watchfulness.
"You are all new to the Order still," Dumbledore tells them, "and so I think it would be best to send you out on more…delicate missions, to keep watch on several pureblood families who we suspect have ties to Voldemort."
James sits up at this and repeats, "Pureblood families? You mean you want us to follow them?"
Dumbledore pauses, eyes him, and responds, "I want you to keep tabs on them. If following them is necessary, then you have full discretion to do so."
Vivian says nothing, but her mind reels with the implications of this. After all, hers is a face that these pureblood families know very well. However, as she's considering what would happen if she was seen trailing them, Dumbledore makes it clear that she is not to be included in such assignments at all, for this very reason.
"I want you to keep to the sidelines for the time being, Vivian," he tells her. When Sirius opens his mouth to argue this, he holds up a hand and, keeping his eyes on Vivian's, adds, "Your position is precarious. It's possible that your parents are looking for you."
She feels a twinge of bitterness at this, not because she won't be going on these missions with the others, but because of the thought of her father hunting for her. Still, she can understand Dumbledore's reasons, so she just shrugs and drawls, "Fine."
She's sure she'll be given assignments in the future, after all, and she's got plenty of other things on her plate right now anyway, such as trying to make her new place of residence somewhat livable. Sirius doesn't look very happy, though, because he blurts, "The whole point of tailing someone is to not be seen, though!"
Vivian glances over at him with a look that he promptly ignores, because he's too busy staring at Dumbledore with insistent eyes.
"It will only be for a short while," Dumbledore placates, which only makes Sirius bristle all the more.
He falls into a surly silence, but Vivian isn't naïve enough to think that the reason for his silence is only for her sake. It's clear to her that he was hoping for a mission that would place him directly in the path of a Death Eater, but all of his illusions of dueling and heroics are put on hold in favor of the cold reality of their situation, which becomes more and more apparent throughout the rest of the meeting. The reality is this:
While some of the Orders' members had not come to this meeting, it's obvious that their numbers are still very low compared to their Dark wizard counterparts. Much of pureblood society has ties to the Dark Lord and are placed in various positions of power within the Ministry itself. By comparison, the Order is quite small, and made up of members who have not quite managed to reach the same pinnacle of fame and fortune that their pureblood fellows have achieved. They certainly do not have the ear of the Minister, like Abraxas Malfoy, or have the ability to pay off any of the Department Heads in order to implement their bidding upon the rest of the wizarding population, like many others. Their members do not hold half as powerful jobs. And, power aside, there aren't nearly as many of them as there are Death Eater sympathizers…at least, not enough of them to actually make a stand and join their fledging Order.
Alas, this is how corruption rules and intimidates; power is the golden calf, before which all kneel and worship, and even those who don't agree are pressured into supplication by the masses like sheep following the ostensible safety of the flock.
"Can you believe this?" Sirius grumbles, shoving his hands into his pockets and casting a glance at James as he shoulders his way onto the street. "Dumbledore's barmy if he thinks I'm going to sit on my arse and do stake-out missions for the next few months. I mean, where's the fun in that?"
James sighs at him and holds the door open for the others – namely Remus, Peter, Vivian, and a hesitant looking Lily.
"This was our first meeting, Sirius," James points out. "Besides, these sorts of missions are important."
Remus is quick to agree, "Yeah, keeping an eye on pureblood supporters could give us important leads into You-Know-Who's next move."
"They're all insane psychopaths," James nods, then casts a glance at Vivian and grins, "'Cept you, of course, Pride."
Vivian rolls her eyes at him. "I'm so glad I've gained your favor, Potter," she sarcastically drawls at him. Beside her, Lily laughs.
"Speaking of Vivian," Sirius adds, turning around to face them all with an indignant expression, "aren't you a little annoyed that Dumbledore's not letting you join the missions?"
Vivian lifts a brow at him and replies, "It makes sense."
He doesn't seem to agree. "No, it doesn't. You've proven that you're on our side. Dumbledore doesn't trust you and I don't like it."
James grins wider and nudges Remus, loudly whispering, "Isn't our Padfoot so sweet these days, Moony? Look at him, getting all riled up for Pride's sake – "
"Shut up, James," Sirius says offhandedly. "It's true and you know it. Dumbledore's worried because her father is a suspected Death Eater and doesn't even care that she's left that life."
Vivian resists the urge to roll her eyes again and says, "Don't talk about me as if I'm not here." When Sirius splutters at her in further indignation, she mutters, "My father is a Death Eater and he's probably still looking for me. If I show my face then I could endanger everyone. Just drop it, Sirius."
Sirius, though, doesn't want to drop it. This doesn't surprise her, of course, seeing as he is frustratingly (and, alright, endearingly) on the side of justice, and this perceived injustice rankles him. He frowns and slows his pace so as to fall into step beside her. "The fact that you've been to most of the places Dumbledore wants us to keep an eye on just proves that you're the most qualified to be on the team," he argues.
James hums, "That is a good point. Still, you've been to most of these mansions too."
Sirius waves this away with a short, "Yeah, years ago. I hardly remember the layout of them though."
"Well it's not as if you're going inside anyway," Vivian says, and hooks an arm around Sirius's to drag him to a halt. "Look, it's getting late. Sirius and I are heading to the cottage."
Sirius pauses, glancing mournfully back at his friends, and whines, "But I thought we could go get a pint together."
Vivian snorts, "Well I'm leaving. I don't care what you do." Her voice is perfectly nonchalant in the most enticingly insulting manner, which naturally makes Remus and James smirk. As for Sirius, he looks mockingly offended and puts a hand dramatically on his chest as he turns to stare at her.
"You don't care?" he repeats, sounding scandalized.
She rolls her eyes at him. "Goodnight, Lily."
Lily sends her a nod and, much to their combined amusement, watches as Sirius scoffs and throws an arm around Vivian's shoulders as if he's completely unwilling to let her go.
"Right. Goodnight, Lily," Sirius says as well, ignoring the other Marauders because he knows full well what they're thinking. As for what, exactly, that is…
"You are so whipped, Padfoot," James snickers.
"It's so pathetic," Remus smirks.
Peter nods, not verbally agreeing but obviously in congruence.
Sirius scowls at them. "Oi, that is not true!"
But Vivian only smirks and drawls, "It's definitely true," which Sirius doesn't entirely appreciate, by the by, and makes sure to inform her of this on their way home, much to her amusement.
"I am not whipped," he complains, throwing open the door of the cottage.
"Okay," she responds, mostly ignoring him.
"I'm not."
"What do you want for dinner?"
He huffs at her, but after a moment, grudgingly suggests, "…Take-away?"
She smirks at him and crosses her arms, "Alright. But since I don't understand how to use those weird muggle things, you can place the order and go pick it up."
Sirius sighs, "They're called 'telephones', Vivian, and I know what you're doing."
She doesn't even try to be innocent when she drawls, "Pray tell, what am I doing, Sirius?"
He glowers at her, but the corner of his mouth curves into a faintly amused smile even as his eyes narrow, which rather takes away from the look. With a haughty sniff, he steps towards her. "You know," he begins slowly, "it's been two weeks since we moved in together…"
She eyes him, taking a step back. "And?"
He smirks, "And I get that you're afraid you'll be seduced by my mere presence – I mean, who could blame you? – but that mattress I've been sleeping on is really uncomfortable."
She hums and sarcastically replies, "Yes, I've always been worried that I'd take one look at you and be seduced by your mere presence."
He barks out a laugh but, undeterred, corners her against the counter and murmurs, "Sleep next to me tonight, Vivian."
She stares at him, presses down the unfortunate desire to do precisely what she had just sarcastically mocked, and responds, "…Maybe if you admit that I've got you whipped."
This, naturally, takes him aback, because he promptly begins to splutter, "That's – that's entirely unfair – "
Her mouth curls into her best Slytherin smirk. The sight of it makes him fall silent, but only because he's overcome with the desire to kiss over it and mold her mouth to his own. With an impatient huff, he mutters, "You are such an arse, Vivian Blair."
She scoffs and curls her arms around his neck, not at all insulted by this. "I know," she proudly returns, and smirks widely.
He rolls his eyes at her, but drags her closer anyway, because some part of him does have to admit that he'd do anything for her…but he'd never admit it, of course.
Contrary to Sirius's indignation over the notion that Vivian hasn't been given any official missions yet, Vivian herself doesn't entirely mind. She isn't positive that her father is looking for her, but neither would she be surprised if he was, and besides, she has plenty of other things to occupy herself with. For example, figuring out how to survive without a house-elf.
Now it isn't as if she thinks herself to be completely useless, but having grown up in an environment where she hadn't needed to learn how to cook or keep house has certain ramifications to her current lifestyle. Had Sirius not thoroughly messed up the natural course of her life, she would have married into another pureblood family and never would have bothered herself with such things, but as it is…
"Er. It smells like something's burning," Lily hesitantly informs her when she steps into the cottage later that week. Vivian, who had gotten up to let her inside, glances toward the kitchen with furrowed brows.
"That's probably because something is burning," she mutters, and darts off before Lily can say another word. Lily raises an eyebrow at her abrupt departure and glances around at the sitting room, vaguely listening to Vivian's cursing as it drifts into the rest of the house. An amused smile curves her mouth. She sets her purse down by the door and heads over to assist. Upon reaching the kitchen doorway, though, Lily quickly realizes that assisting is most certainly not going to cut it, because there isn't much she can do.
"What was that supposed to be?" she wonders, eyeing what looks like a charred pot roast that Vivian had just pulled from a very smoky oven. Honestly, if she had actually learned proper cooking spells for this, she wouldn't even try to use these weird muggle contraptions…
"…Maybe you shouldn't ask," Vivian responds, and begins flapping a dishtowel at the open oven, hoping to dispel the smoke. It doesn't really work, so Lily steps over to the back door a few paces away and open it to help ventilate the space, then pulls out her wand to direct the smoke outside. Meanwhile Vivian glowers at the charred remains of the dinner she had slaved over for the better half of the day as if it has given her personal insult.
Honestly. She doesn't care if she's a good cook or not, but this is a bit ridiculous even for her low standards.
Lily coughs, waving a hand in front of her face as she laughs, "It's a good thing the boys are gone or they'd be taking the mickey out of you."
Vivian grumbles to herself and, throwing down the dishtowel, bemoans, "At this rate, Sirius will use all of his inheritance on take-out. This is the third time this has happened. This week."
Lily raises an eyebrow and shrugs, "So you're not good at cooking. It's not a big deal, Vivian."
Now, considering the fact that Vivian and Lily have only just begun to grow closer since graduating Hogwarts some months ago, it is a bit strange to hear Lily attempt to make her better, especially about something so infantile. She feels even more ridiculous in the wake of it, in fact, and huffs, "Yeah, I know. I just thought I'd have gotten better by now. What are you doing here, anyway?"
Lily's been to the cottage only once before, arriving with James to give her and Sirius a proper housewarming gift. ("If you're going to give them firewhiskey, James, don't drink it all on them. Honestly.") The pair hadn't been able to stay for very long as James had loudly and smugly proclaimed that he was taking his Lilyflower out on a real date, all proper-like, to an actual restaurant (Lily had rolled her eyes at this but notably hadn't told him to shove off like she might've in times past). Point is, though, that Lily hadn't actually told Vivian she'd be stopping by, which Vivian would have dryly reminded her is quite rude if she isn't so relieved to have someone with her in case she accidentally burns the house down. (She'll remind her that it's rude later, just to be thorough, and only after the threat of death-by-fire has diminished.)
"I just thought I'd see how you were doing is all," Lily shrugs, stepping over to the cookbook that Vivian had left open on the counter and had, admittedly, only briefly read. As Lily peruses the recipe, she adds, "Considering that we're both dating two of the most frustrating men on the planet, I thought we ought to become better friends, that way we can complain about them when they're not around."
Those two frustrating men happen to be out on a mission at the moment, and aren't due to be back for a few hours yet. Speaking of complaints, Sirius had many of his own before leaving to meet up with James, claiming that stake-out missions are sure to be 'boring' and 'not exciting enough'. Vivian's response had been entirely unremorseful which had made him complain even more. Yes, she supposes that Lily does make a good point.
With a snicker, Vivian says, "That's true enough. How was your date with Potter, anyway?"
Lily smiles. She pulls out a chair around the small circular table that is currently housing the remnants of Vivian's failed dinner and sighs, "It was great. He does have some redeeming qualities."
Vivian laughs. "Does he?" she sarcastically wonders, and sits down too, content to ignore the charred pot roast for now.
"He's not as bad as I thought he was, but I guess you understand that more than anyone," Lily points out with a subtle smirk, and adds, "You and Sirius have been moving pretty fast."
Now, this is something that Vivian herself has considered in recent weeks, ever since they had begun the process of moving into this cottage, but it feels strange to hear Lily say it out loud. She pauses and, feeling the slightest hint of an insult in Lily's words, drawls, "Well we don't really have any other choice, unless we want to bunk with James's parents for the foreseeable future. I can't exactly go back home you know."
Lily must hear the offended lilt in Vivian's voice because she's quick to say, "I didn't mean it as a bad thing, Vivian. I only meant that you've come a long way…and besides, it's understandable considering your circumstances. I mean, people are eloping left and right these days. Did you hear about Frank and Alice? They got married last week, it was a really quiet affair."
Mention of eloping makes Vivian flush somewhat. She clears her throat and mutters, "Sirius and I aren't planning on…doing that any time soon."
The way she says it, too reluctant to even say the words, makes Lily clear her throat to avoid laughing. Still, she can't help but lift an eyebrow and ask, "You mean get married?"
Vivian glowers at her. "Yes. That."
This time, Lily does laugh, and Vivian rolls her eyes at her in response.
"To be honest, I can't imagine Sirius getting married," Lily shrugs, still smiling with a bit more amusement than Vivian appreciates. She watches as Lily leans back in her chair and snorts, "He likes to claim that he's an eternal bachelor and all that."
With a snort of her own, Vivian replies, "Yes, I know." Still, she can't help but smile, amused at the thought.
Lily sends her a smile. "Still," she murmurs after a moment, "if he was going to marry anyone, it'd definitely be you, Vivian. He's so in love with you it's nauseating to watch."
For the second time in a matter of minutes, Vivian flushes just so. "Well…I'm happy with the way things are right now," she awkwardly responds, not knowing what else to say.
Lily seems to understand, because she sends her a quiet smile before glancing at the pot roast and suggesting, "So…do you want some help with dinner? I'm not the best cook either but I reckon we could figure something out."
Vivian's response to this is to groan, "I'd really rather not."
Lily, though, stands up with a laughing, "Come on. Honestly, you're rather good at potions, aren't you? Cooking isn't that different, once you get the hang of it."
Vivian adamantly disagrees with this statement, but ultimately doesn't try to stop Lily. She does like the thought of eating something besides take-away tonight, after all.