Chapter Seven | Fac ut sciam

[Make me aware]

As Regulus drags her into a small alley between a small teashop and the used broomstick store, the first thing that crosses her mind is that Regulus's fingers are as cold as ice. The second, as he comes to a complete stop and turns around to face her, is that he looks strangely frantic in a way she's never seen before. His usual calm, collected demeanor seems irretrievably lost, and as he scans her face, she finds herself shuffling back. Her fingers tighten around the wand in her pocket, which she had reached for the moment Regulus had grabbed her wrist to stop her from apparating. Distrust unfurls within her, almost surprising in its strength.

The last time she had spoken to him had been in the Slytherin common room before she had graduated with the rest of her class. They had sat together in front of the emerald fire and he had said –

"I wish things had gone differently…"

At the time, she had agreed with him. After all, she knew in her heart that Regulus Black had good inside him. She could see it in his dealings with her, in his quiet words and scarce smiles. It had a way of softening the grey of his eyes just so, turning the iron back to silver. But that was before. They belong to two different worlds now, and the chasm between them is even more unbroachable than ever before.

"Well?" Vivian demands, eyeing him distrustfully. "What do you want – and how did you know I was in Diagon Alley today?" That last question is a hasty addition that rolls off her tongue before she can think it through entirely, but she's glad to have asked it. After all, the only way he would have known that she was here is if he was following her, which is not a pleasant thing to consider for a variety of reasons. If it's this easy to locate her, she can't help but wonder how she's managed to stay under the radar at all for the last few weeks.

Regulus purses his mouth and doesn't meet her eye. He looks uncomfortable, though whether this is because of her disgruntled tone or because of her final question, she doesn't know. Perhaps it's because they haven't seen each other since that final feast at Hogwarts, when they had briefly caught each other's eyes from across the Great Hall before Vivian had turned away. Perhaps it's only because of the fact that Vivian is clutching onto her wand as if she's seconds away from drawing it forth and hexing him. The distrust in her expression is palpable and foreign. He's seen it there before, of course, but never directed at him with quite so much vengeance.

"There's been a development," he says after a painful beat of silence. "And I had Kreacher find you for me."

That last part is hastily added too, as if he's trying to justify his efforts. It doesn't make her feel any better though.

Vivian stares at him. She studies the familiar lines of his face for several long moments before scoffing, "Okay. Let's ignore for a minute that you sent your creepy house-elf after me and get to the reason why you needed to talk to me. What do you want, Regulus?"

Finally, at the sound of his name, he lifts his eyes to hers, and for a split second it feels as though they are back in the Slytherin common room after classes, sitting together by the fireplace as they tackle their respective homework. She'd like to think that the world was as it ought to have been, back then, but she knows that isn't true. So many things were out of order, swept beneath the oppressive curtain that she was trying to hold back for as long as she could. Her attempts had been unsuccessful until she'd caved and stopped trying to hold back that darkness by herself. It hadn't been Regulus who had helped her, though, nor indeed who she had turned to for that assistance.

The energy between them changes just so, becoming inexplicably tenser and more urgent. He takes a step towards her and says, "The Dark Lord is furious. He's been lauding your spell since you finished it, but – Vivian, there's something wrong with it. The power sort of…fades after a while. The Inferi become weaker…it's like your spell wears off and they become common Inferi again."

This is about Vivicendium, the spell she had been tasked to create during her seventh year at Hogwarts? Her father had been the reason for the Dark Lord's sudden interest in her. The moment he had heard that she has a penchant for inventing spells, Voldemort had wanted her to create a specific one for him. Vivicendium doesn't merely raise an Inferi; it makes them more powerful. It gives them an advanced willpower, in a way. They are still bound to whatever their master commands of them, but they have more finesse to carry out those orders. In all honesty, Vivian suspects that the Dark Lord hadn't actually expected her to succeed in her task. She wonders how surprised he had been when he learned that she had, or if he even feels something as human as surprise. That her spell seems to have some errors is not surprising, really, but somehow she can imagine Voldemort's fury far more clearly than his happiness at her creation. As for her, the thought of Vivicendium's apparent failings brings more relief than anything else.

Vivian furrows her brow and cuts in with an abrupt, "That's good news, then. It means he can't use my spell after all."

Regulus releases a scoffing laugh and mutters, "Good news? Vivian, he's looking for you. He wants you to fix it."

Perhaps it's because she's still taken aback at seeing him again, but Vivian's response to this is to simply stare at Regulus as if his words aren't fully registering. They are, of course, but it doesn't stop Regulus from incredulously repeating, "Did you hear me? The Dark Lord is looking for you."

She impatiently snaps, "Yes, I heard you the first time, Regulus. I'm just not sure what I'm supposed to do about it or why you've decided to risk yourself by warning me."

At this, Regulus pauses, staring at her. Then, in an almost embittered voice, he responds, "…You know why I took the risk and don't pretend like you don't, Vivian. Look, he's sending someone after you. I don't know who, but – "

"It's Adrian," she interrupts, sounding almost nonchalant about her awareness, which comes down upon her with a sudden clarity. Who else could it be? The conversation she had overheard in the Ministry of Magic makes sense, now. She hadn't been jumping to conclusions after all. The realization doesn't bring the same sort of panic that she feels it ought to, but maybe that's because she's still processing it all, and still coming to terms with the fact that Regulus is even here at all.

He blinks at her in confusion and frowns, "How do you know that?"

It's her turn to pause, before blurting out, "I saw him at the Ministry, talking to your father." And at once, the very moment that these words leave her lips, she is overcome with a sense of guilt, that it had been so simple to tell Regulus and not the one who she should have told the second it had happened. Her eyes fall to the ground, and she purses her lips.

Is it because Regulus is Slytherin through and through? Is it because she trusts those qualities more than she does the brash boldness of a Gryffindor? No, it must simply be because she knows that Regulus is and always has been more aware of the goings on in the darker side of society, and he understands in a way that Sirius doesn't. Or is that just an excuse? Because, after all, Sirius grew up in that society too. He knows full well how it operates. He would also understand, and shouldn't she know this by now? It feels as if she is constantly running through hoops, these days, wrangling with living a life that is so far removed from everything she is accustomed to, and she's been keeping everything at arm's length as a result. She's been keeping Sirius at arm's length, too. Why? If she is so happy to remove herself from that life, shouldn't she be embracing this one fully?

"My father isn't a Death Eater," Regulus frowns, drawing her attention back to the matter at hand. "What was he doing, getting involved?"

Vivian shrugs, still thinking thoughts better left for later, and mutters, "I don't know. He was with Abraxas Malfoy. Did you know that Adrian is working in the Department of Law?"

The question is delivered with a sort of laughable incredulity, but Regulus is far more serious when he replies, "The Dark Lord placed him there. He wants to start infiltrating the courts." Then, with a grumble, he adds, "I shouldn't be telling you this, but knowing you, you've already guessed."

Vivian snorts, "Yeah, I heard Adrian say it himself like the idiot he is. I just don't understand why he was chosen. And how will he have time tracking me down if he's got cases to work on?"

Regulus snaps his eyes to hers and firmly says, "Don't underestimate the danger you're in, Vivian."

She resists the urge to roll her eyes at him. "I'm not underestimating anything, Regulus, I'm just trying to make sense of it all. I mean, Voldemort can still make Inferi without my spell. What's the point of getting me to fix it when he can just wave his wand and raise up as many dead wizards as he likes?"

Her sarcasm isn't lost on him, but it is ignored. Regulus purses his mouth at her. "It's not just about the spell. It's about the fact that you were able to make the spell at all. He wants to have someone with your abilities in his ranks. Your talents are valuable to him."

Mention of the Dark Lord's ranks has Vivian eyeing him with a newfound caution. In a slow voice, she asks the question she should have asked at the start of this wayward conversation. After all, Regulus has just finished his sixth year at Hogwarts. He's too young to join the Death Eaters despite his desire to. This information seems rather important and it hardly makes sense for him to be in the know about it, especially since he appeared confused as to his own father's involvement. That rules out the possibility of him overhearing a conversation being had by Orion, which naturally makes her wonder how he came upon this knowledge.

"How do you know all of this, Regulus? Surely Voldemort doesn't trust you enough to let you attend his meetings."

As expected, the question makes him freeze for half a second before he shakes it off and carefully blankets his expression once more. That half second is enough to make it clear that her inquiry had taken him off guard, though. She can read him well enough by now to see through the mask he's now wearing.

"…Things have changed for me, too," is all he says, and he doesn't deign to explain this very obscure statement.

Vivian lifts an eyebrow and studies him closer, for the first time since she found herself in this alleyway. He looks unhealthy, almost, but it's hard to tell if she's mistaken or not. The light that streams into the alley is filtered with creases of shadow and tempered with a greyish tint from the stone walls around them. Still, he looks more pallid than he ought to, now that she's taking notice.

"Changed how," she demands in a sort of deadpan manner. She pulls her hands from her pockets and crosses them, no longer feeling the sense of danger she had felt before. This is Regulus, after all. He is misguided, yes, but Regulus all the same. Why had she ever thought he might hurt her? He became a murderer for her, for Merlin's sake.

He doesn't look very pleased that she isn't dropping the subject. Frustrated, he responds in a clipped tone, "I'm not going back to Hogwarts this year, okay? And I don't have time to discuss it with – "

"You're dropping out of school?" she cuts in incredulously. "You can't be serious."

He frowns at her. "Like I said, things have changed."

She frowns at him, too. Suddenly, she's unsure if he's really the same Regulus that she knows or if he's someone entirely different. There's a look in his eyes that is staunch and biting, and so very different from the careful mask he had only just been wearing.

"…You've joined him, then? Officially?" she asks, and then wonders if she really wants to know after all.

It doesn't matter, though, because Regulus doesn't respond to her anyhow. Instead, he merely says, "I came to warn you about your spell. I still care about what happens to you. But this is the last time you'll see me, Vivian. Whatever happens, I'm afraid I can't help you."

And with that, before she can say a single word, Regulus gives her one last look before turning on his heel and striding back to the entrance of the alleyway, disappearing just as quickly as he'd come.

'SHE'S WELL AQUAINTED WITH THE TOUCH OF A VELVET HAND

LIKE A LIZARD ON A WINDOW PANE.

THE MAN IN THE CROWD WITH THE MULTICOLORED MIRRORS

ON HIS HOBNAIL BOOTS – '

"What on earth are you listening to?"

Sirius is standing in front of the muggle contraption that belts music whenever he feeds it one of those strange round discs, but at the sound of Vivian's voice, he whirls around to face her. Vivian pauses in the doorway of the cottage, one hand still on the doorknob. After a moment of staring at each other, she turns her attention to the sight of their modest living room, which Sirius seemed to have altered somewhat. The more she studies these alterations, the more she feels her eyebrows raise.

Two empty glasses and a bottle of what appears to be elf-made wine sit on the short table in front of the couch, beside a bouquet of wilted flowers that are drooping pathetically.

"Um. Great, you're finally back," Sirius stumbles, evidently deciding to pretend that he hadn't just been singing along to the lyrics that the muggle contraption is still belting out, so loudly that she can barely hear him at all. As she crosses her arms and sends him a dry look, he coughs and scrambles to turn the volume down to a level that won't decimate their eardrums.

"Dare I even ask?" she drawls sarcastically, though inside she feels more amused than anything else. She glances back to the coffee table. The flowers seem to have drooped a touch more since last she looked.

Her glance draws his attention to them too, and Sirius mutters, "Oh bloody hell," as he reaches for his wand and strides over to them. A quick spell ensures that they are good as new, looking just as fresh as if they had just been picked. He grumbles, "That stupid florist told me they were treated with a spell that makes them everlasting, but I've had to save them from dying about a dozen times already. Vivian, I've been swindled."

Both his tone and the words themselves make her smirk. For a moment, she forgets about the events of the day – the jarring outing with Lily and Marlene, and, most importantly, the meeting with Regulus – and she finds her focus turned to Sirius in its entirety. The change is most welcome.

"What's all this for?" she asks, stepping further into the room.

Sirius gives her a very nonchalant shrug and informs her, "This is a date, Vivian. Honestly. Can't you tell without having to ask?"

She raises an eyebrow at him. In the background, the muggle contraption belts, 'I NEED A FIX CAUSE I'M GOING DOWN! I NEED A FIX – '

"You chose a song about drugs for a date?" her voice is possibly the driest it's ever been, which is saying a lot really.

Sirius pauses, but she (naturally) isn't done yet.

"And you bought me wilted flowers," Vivian adds, casting a glance at the bouquet, which by the by has already begun to droop again.

He raises his chin and sniffs, "Well. I can see how little you appreciate the effort I've put in."

She presses back an amused smile and haughtily returns, "I guess it's better than the kitchen at Hogwarts."

He sends her a sidelong look and sets his expression to one of deep consideration as he murmurs, "Let's see…if I translate that from Slytherin Sarcasm to normal words, it sounds like you're actually saying, 'Merlin, Sirius, I've never been on a date this incredible!'" That last bit is delivered with such a cringeworthy, high-pitched tone that Vivian finds herself rolling her eyes even as Sirius laughingly draws her closer to him.

"A translation from Slytherin Sarcasm?" she drawls, but doesn't try pulling away when Sirius curls his arms around her.

He turns his head to press his mouth against her cheek. Against it, he chuckles, "Vivian, most of what you say requires a translation."

She turns her head too, but only to give him a look. "I feel like that should probably offend me."

Sirius nods sagely and informs her, "Mhmm. And that's translated to: 'I'm going to pretend to be offended but inside, I'm not, because as usual, Sirius is right'."

She opens her mouth to deliver more sarcasm, but her words end up turning to laughter when Sirius starts dragging her into a dance. It's a jarring sort of dance, hardly romantic due to their laughter as well as the jolting beat of the music that creates the backdrop of it, but Vivian can't bring herself to care. She laughingly tells him, "This is the strangest date I've ever been on," but doesn't think it's the worst, certainly. After all, whenever Sirius is involved, life is warm and happy.

He seems to know it, too, because he grins, "And I'm going to translate that to: 'this is the best date ever'." She snorts, and he becomes a tad bit more serious when he adds, "I know it's not a fancy restaurant, but it was the best I could do considering the state of things right now."

She becomes a bit more serious too. Indeed, the world seems to have changed greatly in the last few months alone. She's not sure, exactly, how bad things were before they had graduated. Hogwarts had created a barrier between school and the real world, but she knows enough from her dealings with prior acquaintances and from reading the Daily Prophet that things have been on a downward spiral for several years now.

In the background, the muggle contraption sings, 'Happiness is a warm gun…happiness is a warm gun…' and in this moment, she thinks that truer words have never been spoken.

Her thoughts return to Orion Black, and Mulciber, and Regulus, and Vivian curls her fingers into Sirius's shirt. In a moment of weakness, she scrambles with the notion of simply remaining silent once more. After all, Sirius had set this all up for her. She can playfully complain about his efforts all she wants, but the truth is that these efforts mean more to her than she'll ever admit. This is what she had signed up for, she remembers. She hadn't left her family to help the Order. She had left that life to start a new one with Sirius. The reminder comes to her as a whisper of a thought, impressing upon her so gently and so delicately that it hardly feels substantial enough. And yet it is substantial, so much so that she thinks she can't go on another moment without being honest with him, because after all, they are in this together.

"I need to tell you something," she blurts out before she can think upon it any more. She's afraid that if she does, she'll only justify her silence.

She feels Sirius turn to look at her, and after a brief second spent grappling with her words, Vivian turns to catch his eye. Soft silver exists therein, so different from the iron grey of Regulus's eyes. She feels some piece of her, deep and stubborn and knotted tightly within her gut, unravel.

Sirius furrows his brows when she doesn't immediately say more. Their movements slowly come to a halt. He looks wary, all of the sudden, no doubt scrabbling to work out what it is that she could possibly say, and why it seems as though her message will be a difficult one.

"…Vivian?" he asks, a quiet prompt.

She studies him a moment longer before sighing, "Remember when we went to the Ministry last week and I disappeared for a while?"

Immediately, his expression grows a touch warier. He doesn't respond to her inquiry, but he does seem to be bolstering himself for whatever it is she's about to tell him. He knows Vivian Blair well enough by now to read between the lines.

"I saw your father," she admits, deciding not to drag this out any longer. "And Adrian Mulciber," she adds, almost as an afterthought, before he can interrupt her.

Sirius's brows furrow slightly further. In a slow, careful voice, he repeats, "You saw my father and Mulciber? And you didn't tell me this because…?"

She cringes just so and mumbles, "I didn't want to worry you before I figured out what they were talking about."

Sirius, hearing the words that she isn't saying aloud, raises his eyebrows and asks, "But now you have figured it out?"

Vivian nods, but doesn't explain the rest immediately. Instead, she considers her words as she steps out of his arms and reaches for the elf-made wine. Sirius watches as she pours them two glasses of it. He doesn't make a move to take his, though, even as Vivian sits down on the couch. He merely slips his hands into his pockets and waits, watching her.

"…It's a bit of a long story," she admits. "And you're not going to be happy about it."

The warning doesn't seem to come as a surprise to him, because Sirius just raises his eyebrows a touch more and mutters, "Yeah, I figured as much."

She sends him an exasperated look and says, "Sirius, it's not like I meant for any of this to happen or asked for any of your family members to come looking for me – "

"Just tell me, Vivian," he cuts in, though not unkindly. Rather, he seems tired, and appears to have picked up on yet another silent message between her words: the usage of the phrase 'family members'. His expression only becomes warier.

"Right," she mutters, eyeing him. "…Regulus found me today in Diagon Alley, just as I was about to leave."

There, she said it. Sirius immediately stiffens with a frown, but she feels a sense of relief that it's out in the open now. Well, a part of it is anyway. She'll get to the rest once Sirius comes to terms with the mention of his younger brother, a topic that always upsets him regardless of context.

"Regulus," he repeats. "As in my brother Regulus."

She nearly rolls her eyes at him, but forces down the urge at the last moment because she knows it won't help matters any.

Still, despite this, she can't help but wonder, "Do you know anyone else with that name?"

The stormy look that crosses Sirius's face makes her wish she hadn't said it, though. He steps to the table and finally reaches for the glass of elf-made wine she had poured for him, taking a generous sip. Then, with a frown, he mutters, "Yeah, you're right, I don't like this at all."

She sighs, "Sit down and I'll explain it, Sirius."

For a moment, he looks like he wants to argue, but he ultimately does sit down. She takes this as a good sign. If he was truly angry with her, then he'd be more stubborn about it.

"Let me start with the Ministry," Vivian says. "I saw your father and Abraxas Malfoy and followed them. They were talking about Voldemort and it piqued my interest. They said he was angry about something, so when they got off the lift, I got off too." She glances at Sirius, who has turned on the couch to watch her. His expression is still stormy, perhaps because he's still a bit rankled that she hadn't told him about this before, but his eyes are now shining with something far more telling: curiosity. She takes this as a good sign, too, and explains, "They went down to the lower courts. Mulciber was there. He's some sort of attorney or something."

Sirius's eyebrows lift. With a snort, he repeats, "He's an attorney? In the lower courts? Doesn't his father have connections in the Ministry? Why would he start on the lowest rung of the ladder?" Then, pausing, he mutters, "Unless he was placed there."

Pleased that he's reached the correct conclusion, Vivian nods, "I overheard them say something about Voldemort trying to infiltrate the courts. Regulus said the same thing when I asked about it today."

The reminder that his younger brother has something to do with this wipes away the curiosity from Sirius's eyes and replaces it with the same wariness that had existed moments before. He clenches his jaw and mumbles, "Right. How does he play into this whole thing, then?"

Vivian chews over her words for a moment before throwing caution to the wind and rushing out, "He said he came to warn me. Apparently, the spell I created last year has a few…problems. Regulus said that Voldemort is angry about it and wants me to fix it."

Sirius catches her eye, but doesn't respond for several long moments. He seems to be thinking this through. Finally, he rubs his face and asks, "What kind of problems?" He seems to be deflecting from the more important part of her message: the fact that Voldemort is angry with her, which is most certainly not a good thing.

"The Inferi that it raises end up turning back to normal after a while," she tells him, studying him closely. In the background, the music has changed to a fast-paced song, even more jarring than the last. It feels odd in the current circumstances. Vivian turns to him and says, "I think Mulciber is the one with orders to find me. I overheard him saying as much, only I didn't connect all the dots until Regulus's warning." Then, with a frown, she adds, "He said he 'knew how to handle blood traitors'."

Sirius snorts, leaning back against the couch and glancing over at her. "I'd rather be a blood traitor any day," he mutters, and eyes her as if he wonders if his words have caused insult. But Vivian is no longer the same person who might take offense at being referred to as such, and merely curls her legs onto the couch and shuffles closer to him.

"Sirius," she says quietly, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Mulciber sooner. I just – I don't know, I've been so frustrated lately because of the Order that I thought it was better to wait for more information – "

"I'm not angry at you, Vivian," he cuts in, lifting a hand to her cheek. "But if we want to make this work, we need to be honest with each other."

She nods. He's right, of course. Without truth, everything falls apart.

"You're the reason I left my family, Sirius," she whispers to him. "Not the Order. Not Dumbledore's missions. You."

His eyes soften, and a moment later, he's leaning in to press his forehead against hers. He reaches down to take her hand and murmurs, "I know. I love you, Vivian."

He's said those words many times since realizing his feelings for her. Gryffindors are like that. They can be stubborn about accepting their feelings, but once they do, they're not afraid to express them. Slytherins aren't either, only they tend to see emotions as a means of obtaining power, and this notion has been so heavily ingrained within Vivian for so many years that it's difficult for her to bypass it. So instead of repeating the words to him as she'd like to, they get lodged in her throat, and after a moment, they fall away entirely. Sirius doesn't seem to be expecting her to repeat them though. He knows full well that just because she doesn't say the words aloud doesn't mean they don't exist there within her eyes. He can see her clearly, every crease and every corner. Every sentiment she feels but doesn't always express.

"We should talk to Dumbledore at the next meeting," Sirius murmurs after a moment. He reaches up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "He should be aware of this. And we'll need a plan. Somewhere to meet if anything ever happens, that way we have a place to go that only we know about."

She admittedly hasn't given much thought to all of this, but Sirius makes a good point. Having backup plans has always appealed to her. It's a very Slytherin notion, calculating such things. She silently considers it now, wondering what other plans they ought to create should they run into any danger, but she doesn't get very far into these thoughts.

"How was he?" Sirius suddenly blurts out, looking vaguely uncomfortable upon asking.

It's hardly any surprise why, and despite the abrupt nature of his question, she understands who he's asking after. Regulus has always been a shaky topic between her and Sirius, for rather obvious reasons.

Vivian slowly responds, "…He seemed fine. He left before I could ask anything important…but he did tell me that he's dropping out of school."

This information makes Sirius's eyes darken. "So he's joined then."

She doesn't verbally respond, but her silence is telling enough.

Sirius sighs and grumbles, "Well this was botched date."

She can tell that these words are purposefully administered to brighten the atmosphere of the room. His tone is almost falsely lighthearted, as if he's trying a bit too hard. She doesn't complain, though, and just smiles.

"To be fair," she drawls, matching his lighter tone as she curls an arm around his shoulders and fits herself into his side, "the wilted flowers didn't help any."

Sirius nudges her playfully but just exhales with a laugh that sounds just as forced as his lighthearted tone. She hesitates for just a moment before leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his mouth, and then she pulls away and stands up. Sirius raises an eyebrow when she takes his hand and makes it clear that she wants him to stand too.

"…What are you doing?" he asks, but stand nonetheless.

Vivian clears her throat. "I think we should go to bed," is all she says, watching him carefully.

Now. Let it be said that Sirius is not always an idiot. Though Vivian has plenty of arguments proving the contrary, he does at times demonstrate his intelligence.

"…Marlene got to you, didn't she," he says.

Vivian rolls her eyes at him. She refuses to admit that Marlene McKinnon has anything to do with this and instead just grumbles, "Well if you don't want to, you can sleep on the couch for all I care."

"Let's not be hasty," he quickly cuts in, and strides over to the muggle music contraption to hastily turn it off. He's grinning when he turns back to face her, looking so full of himself that Vivian nearly retracts her suggestion entirely. With a smirk, Sirius sighs, "It took you long enough to see sense, really. Any other bird would've insisted I share their bed at the earliest opportunity – "

"If you keep talking, I might actually make you sleep outside," Vivian deadpans, much to his amusement.

He laughs. "You wouldn't," he says.

"I would too," she responds, and likes to think that she means it.

Sirius just shakes his head at her as if he doesn't believe her, and strides back to where she stands to pull her into his arms. A moment later, he's leaning down to kiss her, and against her mouth, he murmurs, "Like I said, you wouldn't last a week without me, Godric."

Vivian sends him a narrowed look, but just sighs and doesn't respond. It's only later, when she's pulling back the covers and tentatively curling into his side that she speaks.

"…I love you too, Sirius," she murmurs to him through the darkness, and feels him freeze.

A moment later, he's sitting up and turning the light back on. "Say that again," he demands, much to her amusement.

Vivian sends him an exasperated look. "Why should I?" she asks, just to be difficult.

Sirius tries his best to look annoyed at her stubbornness, but he can't quite stop the grin from spreading over his face.

"Come on," he says, "say it."

And, though she tries her best to look annoyed at him, well…

"I love you. Now shut up and go to sleep."

Sirius laughs and only obeys half of what she says. He does shut up, but only because he's leaning down to kiss her.