Chapter Ten | Cor unum, via una

[One heart, one way]

Vivian hasn't outright complained about it, but she knows that Sirius is aware of her frustration regarding Dumbledore's brush-off at the last Order meeting. The more time that passes, the more obvious her frustration becomes, especially when Sirius goes off with the other Marauders on another mission. Vivian doesn't blame him, of course, but seeing him depart with such a fiery purpose makes her feel even more useless than ever. It doesn't even matter that, just like the last few missions they'd been on, this one ends up leading them to another dead-end. The fact that he has a mission at all only furthers Vivian's frustration.

She just can't wrap her head around why Dumbledore isn't making use of her talents. Is it really because he's concerned for her safety and wellbeing, or is there a darker purpose to his continuous brush-offs? She's been mulling over Moody's distrusting demeanor for days now. Seeing how close he is to Dumbledore, it would only make sense for him to share this mistrust with the older wizard. This only serves to frustrate her all the more. She doesn't think it's right to be forced to prove her allegiance to them after everything she's already done, especially when no one else in the Order is made to do the same. Just because she's a pureblood Slytherin, she carries a stigma that breeds doubt. She'd have to be blind not to see it.

Sirius, at least, understands.

"Look, I think you should just come with us on the next mission regardless of what Dumbledore says," he suggests as they walk through Hogsmeade.

Their reason for being there is simple: due to Hogsmeade's proximity to Hogwarts, the town has an impressively substantial Owl Post Office for such a small community, and they haven't gotten around to purchasing their own owl yet. Back in school, Vivian would use one of the school owls to send letters to her parents, at least when her family's prideful owl, Leopold, wasn't available to make the return trip. As for Sirius, he didn't exactly have anyone to write to anyway, seeing as he had fallen out with his parents even before the Potter's had taken him in. When he did need to send a letter, he'd use James's owl, but he rarely had a reason to.

"I don't know," Vivian hedges, glancing over at him. "Wouldn't that make Dumbledore trust me even less than he already does?"

Sirius eyes her, lifting his brow. In a dry voice, he reminds her, "When have you ever cared about proving yourself to someone?"

She huffs and doesn't respond, because frankly, she isn't sure how to. The truth is that she has cared about proving herself, to several people. She didn't have pure intentions when she had been trying to prove herself to the Dark Lord last year, but she had still done her best to do exactly that. Her reasons had been selfish because she had been afraid of the consequences should she fail to live up to Voldemort's task, but the end result had been the same. She's been trying to prove herself to the Order, too, though she hasn't quite known how to go about it when she isn't able to do much of anything to further their cause. And then, of course, there's Sirius. It would be a filthy lie if she said that she didn't try to prove herself to him every single day. Sirius makes her want to be a better person. He makes her want to tap into her full potential.

"I don't see why you shouldn't come with us," Sirius adds as they walk down the familiar street that they've both walked down so many times during their school years. It feels surreal being here again, even though it's only been a short time. Perhaps that is exactly the reason why it feels so strange. So much has changed in only a few months. It is already difficult to reconcile her present self with the one that had walked these streets during Hogsmeade weekends. She feels as though she is a completely different person, these days.

Vivian sighs, "Moody would probably have a melt down if he found out that I crashed your mission."

At this, Sirius pauses and then snickers, "All the more reason, if you ask me."

Sirius has not changed very much though, in Vivian's opinion. She casts him a dry look.

"This isn't a prank, Sirius," she reminds him.

He rolls his eyes at her, slipping an arm over her shoulders as he returns, "I'm just saying, Vivi. I mean, we're here in Hogsmeade even though you're not supposed to be out in the open, right? There's no difference, really."

She elbows him, but Sirius only clamps his arm tighter around her and refuses to release her. She grumbles, "The difference is that this isn't Knockturn Alley."

Sirius shakes his head at her and laments, "You are so bad at taking risks, you know that?"

She rolls her eyes. "It's called wanting to stay alive, Sirius. Maybe you should try it sometime."

Instead of her words hitting the mark, though, Sirius only laughs, and after a brief moment, Vivian smiles begrudgingly too. She supposes they are being a bit ridiculous, but it's surprisingly easy to fall back into their usual squabbles without even realizing it.

She can't deny that his suggestion does entice her, though. It isn't as if she's been outright banned from tagging along with them, right? Dumbledore doesn't even have to know. She's sure that the other Marauders wouldn't mind. Well, Peter might, but then again he's never quite gotten around to accepting the fact that Sirius and her are together. Not that she cares.

She's still musing over the possibilities therein when her and Sirius arrive at the Post Office several minutes later. They've both been inside during their respective initial explorations of the village, but Vivian's never had a reason to return. To be honest, she isn't all that impressed with the place. Having grown up in the wizarding world, the concept of an Owl Post Office hardly amazes her. It also smells like shite.

Dozens and dozens of owls are perched in the rafters above them. There are so many of them that an ever-present sound of crooning and the ruffling of feathers pervades the large space. Across the way, in the center of the building, there is a round counter with several workers manning it, though one of them is currently walking around the room with a dust bucket and broom, sweeping up fallen feathers and regurgitated owl pellets. Vivian wrinkles her nose at the sight and makes sure to keep her eyes on the floor so as to avoid stepping in anything of a questionable nature.

"How much to send a letter to Norway?" Vivian asks the moment she approaches the counter. Sirius lingers a ways behind her with his hands in his pockets.

The woman behind the counter pulls out her wand and flicks it at the large binder sitting on the surface. A moment later, the pages of it are quickly flipping to a section in the middle of the book, and after one disinterested glance at the contents of the page, the woman intones, "International deliveries to Norway are 4 galleons."

Vivian's eyebrows lift incredulously. "4 galleons to deliver a letter? You've got to be joking – "

"Customs is included in the price," the woman intones again, sounding incredibly bored.

Vivian glowers at her but ultimately doesn't complain. To be fair, she's never cared much about prices before she had abandoned her wealth and she feels a bit annoyed with herself even as she slams the letter onto the counter. She hates being frugal.

"Fine," she mutters. She digs into her coin purse and procures the galleons, though she makes a point of sharpening her glower somewhat as she hands them over. The woman doesn't look like she gives a rat's arse, of course, but it makes Vivian feel a bit better.

"Expected delivery will be next Tuesday," the woman intones, taking the letter and waving her wand over it to do several customary security checks.

Vivian nearly snatches it back when she hears this. "Next Tuesday - ?"

Behind her, Sirius coughs. He mumbles something under his breath that sounds distinctly like, 'Don't know why she's bothering with Clarke to begin with,' but Vivian ignores him.

The woman sends Vivian a blank stare and intones, "Expedited deliveries are 6 galleons and will arrive next Monday."

Vivian stares right back for several long moments before huffing, "Oh just send the damn letter."

The woman shrugs and turns back to doing her security checks, totally unfazed. Vivian can't claim the same. The moment everything is set, she storms out of the Post Office with a scowl. Sirius has to rush to catch up, and he's snickering by the time he does.

"Oh shut up," Vivian snaps at him. He doesn't.

With a smirk, Sirius drawls, "That's what you get for writing to Tosspot Clarke."

She turns her glare on him, but this doesn't work either. Unfortunately for her, Sirius has always been immune to her glares. When he only smirks wider, Vivian scoff under her breath and marches down the street. She has no particular destination in mind. It's only when she sees Magical Menagerie across the way that she ends up changing course with singular focus. Sirius realizes her intent the moment he sees her angle her body towards the doors, and his snickers turn into grumbles.

"You aren't going to buy an owl just to write Clarke, are you?" he demands, picking up his pace in hopes of catching her before she reaches the shop. "Cause that would be a total waste of money – "

Before he can finish, Vivian twists the doorknob and marches inside, much to Sirius's dismay. He grumbles again and hastens to follow her. When he enters the shop, Vivian is already standing in front of several cages that contain owls of all shapes and sizes, all of which are peering at her in the same way that she is peering at them. That is, with a sort of impatience that speaks of her interrupting their mid-afternoon snack (mice, by the looks of it); and conversely, of her own annoyance at having just spent 4 galleons to send a letter when she should have just bought an owl to begin with.

Sirius sighs and strides over to her, pressing away his amusement at the staring contest currently happening before him. He decides not to remark upon it – or mention that Vivian will never win such a contest against an owl, no matter how impressive her glower is.

"I can't believe you want to buy an owl for Clarke's sake," he grouses when he reaches her side, and crosses his arms with a sort of petulance that would have normally amused Vivian, if she was in the mood to be amused.

As it is, though…

"It's not just to write Clarke," she huffs at him, eyeing a brown-feathered owl with a particularly piercing stare. "We shouldn't have to come all the way to Hogsmeade just to send out a letter."

Sirius can't entirely find fault with this reason, so instead he just gripes, "Well we're not getting that one." He nods to the brown-feathered owl that Vivian is studying.

"Why not?" she asks.

"Because he looks like he'd peck us to death the first chance he gets," he responds.

"He does not. He looks pleasant enough to me."

"He's got a shifty stare."

"He's an owl, Sirius."

"Can I help the both of you?" a salesman interrupts, approaching them with a wary expression. This is probably due to the fact that neither of them is trying to be quiet as they argue back and forth.

Vivian glances over at the man and nods, "Yes, we're going to get that one." She points at the brown owl with a decisive nod.

Sirius looks very much as if he'd like to counteract this, but Vivian just shoots him a look. He rolls his eyes, but ultimately just scoffs, "Fine, but you can pay for him."

Vivian doesn't grace this with a response, seeing as she had been planning on doing exactly that anyhow. The money she had been able to bring with her is slowly running out, but she has enough left to make this purchase with a bit more to spare. Thus far, Sirius has been the one to shell out the coin needed to buy the necessities, but she's spent her own money on things like her wardrobe and such. In any case, she doesn't argue this point and merely steps back to allow the salesman to open the cage and retrieve the owl. The fact that the man doesn't look very eager to handle the bird makes Vivian all the more pleased with her choice – and Sirius, all the more wary.

"We've had him for ages now," the salesman is saying, and slips on a pair of thick gloves as if he's fully expecting the owl to pick a fight. "I'm sure he'll be very…ah, happy that he has a new home."

Sirius eyes the owl carefully, watching as he immediately tries to dash his beak into the salesman's arm, which is not quite as protected as his hands.

"…Wonderful," he grumbles as the salesman lets out a short yelp and then promptly does his best to laugh it off.

Vivian looks rather pleased though. She picks out some owl treats and a decently sized cage to transport the owl and digs into her coin purse once again to pay. The salesman looks incredibly happy to be rid of the owl, and in turn, the owl looks incredibly annoyed to have been once again stuck inside a cage. In fact, he has a menacing look on his face that makes his orange eyes seem utterly demonic, and he keeps shifting from foot to foot as if he'd like nothing more than to peck the bars of his cage to dust. Sirius grimaces.

Honestly, sometimes he wishes that Vivian was the type of woman who liked those tiny owls with the miniscule brains and fluffy wings. At least then he wouldn't be worried about having his eye taken out.

"Thanks very much!" the salesman exclaims after they finish their transaction, handing over the owl as quickly as he can. He makes a point of letting go of the cage the first moment he's able, before the owl can attempt to do him any further harm. Vivian, for her part, just nonchalantly takes the cage and gives the salesman a nod before turning back to the door, evidently finished with her shopping. When the owl tries to peck at Vivian's hand, she just makes a sharp 'tching' sound and the creature promptly glares at her but otherwise ceases and desists. Sirius grimaces again and follows, feeling rather helpless.

"You seriously had to choose the owl from hell," he mutters as he closes the shop door behind him.

Vivian looks viciously pleased when she responds, "Typhon is just tired of spending his life in a cage, is all. Once he stretches his wings, he'll be right as rain."

For a moment, Sirius scrambles to recall why the name 'Typhon' sounds so familiar to him. Admittedly, it takes him several seconds longer than it should, but to be fair, he tries not to remember much of his earlier education. His mum had been an absolute menace during his early tutoring sessions and he prefers not to think about those years of his life, spent in the hellhole of his past. As Vivian steps into the street once more, though, a memory finally resurfaces and he feels his eyebrow twitch.

"…Really? You decided to name that thing after a monster?" he dryly asks, and shoves the memory away as quickly as he can. The recollection of long days spent learning Greek mythology and other classical topics whilst under the prowling supervision of Walburga Black makes him cringe just as much as his recollection of the mythological monster.

Vivian snorts. Her only response is a brief, "He isn't a thing."

Sirius grumbles, "You are aware that Typhon was a fire-breathing snake-man with wings, right?"

She laughs and sends him a sidelong look, still looking annoyingly pleased. "Exactly. It's the perfect name. Look, he likes it," she adds, glancing down at the newly dubbed 'Typhon' with a smirk. The owl blinks back and gives no indication that he's ever liked anything at all…but he also doesn't attempt to peck at her either, so it's a bit hard to tell.

Sirius shakes his head at them both and drops it. Instead of disputing the name of Vivian's psychopathic owl, he just takes her hand and says, "Come on, let's walk around a bit before going back. I want to go see the shack."

This time, it's her turn to shake her head at him. "Why?" she asks. She can't think of a single good reason to waste time going to see Lupin's old haunt.

Sirius just drags her with him, making sure he's standing as far away from Typhon as possible, and responds, "Why not?" The answer is purposefully rhetorical and he's half expecting Vivian to argue, but she only huffs and lets him pull her down the street.

Indeed, the Shrieking Shack is exactly as it had been some months before, not that this is at all surprising. Sirius gets a sort of nostalgic look on his face when they approach it though, so Vivian holds back a particularly snarky comment on the matter and decides to just let him have at it. He's visited the shack many times during their school years to keep Remus company, and he looks at it now as if it's an important part of his past. She sets Typhon on the ground by the shoddy fence that surrounds the shack and tries not to think about the several times she had visited it, with Death Eaters in tow. No sense ruining a perfectly good day.

"Remember that time we snuck out of the castle to get drinks at The Hog's Head?" Sirius asks, propping his arms on the fence and leaning against it. Around them, the late afternoon sun shines through the foliage and adds an almost pleasant aura to the shack that it otherwise wouldn't have.

Vivian hums. "Yeah, and then you turned into a real mutt, with fleas and everything."

Sirius elbows her playfully. "I told you, I'm a very hygienic dog."

She laughs at this and returns, just as playfully, "A mutt's still a mutt."

He stares at her for all of three seconds before pushing off of the fence and grabbing at her, making her laugh all the more as she pushes him away. Typhon watches them with a royally unimpressed expression and hoots sharply when they nearly knock over his cage.

"Sirius, stop!" Vivian laughs, loosing her balance when her heel catches on a root of a nearby tree. She would have fallen over if Sirius didn't already have a hold of her.

Laughing too, he sets her aright and knocks his forehead gently against hers. A moment later, he swoops in to kiss her, and though he had meant for it to be a brief kiss, the way Vivian curls her arms around his neck to hold him in place rather alters his intentions. Before long, he's melting into her and deepening the kiss, unable to help himself. Especially when she threads her fingers into his hair and clenches down around the strands.

It would be a lie to say that they haven't shared plenty of moments exactly like this one in the past few months, but there's something different about this particular moment that Vivian can't deny. Perhaps it's the fact that they're back in Hogsmeade, where nothing has changed, or maybe it's simply to do with the strangely buoyant freedom in the air as the afternoon sun cuts through the trees and warms their skin. Best of all, they are alone, with no one to witness the impromptu affection.

She pulls him closer and sighs against his lips, closing her eyes as a familiar fire slowly begins to engulf her. She wonders if she'll ever get enough of Sirius Black. His touch, his kiss, his openness. It always goes to her head without fail, and spins a heat like no other within her veins. She feels at once as if she's never been as warm as she is right now – at least until the next time.

He pulls her closer, angling his head to deepen the kiss. His hands shift from her hips to curl around her back, fisting into the back of her shirt. The fabric lifts up just so as a result, and she shivers at the breeze that presses against her skin. It's a warm day at summer's end, and when he feels her shiver, he knows that it isn't because she's cold. If anything, it's the complete opposite, especially when he breaks the kiss to instead press his lips to her cheek, and then her jaw, and then her neck…

Even when Typhon sends them a shrill, angry hoot, neither of them care. Vivian tilts her head to the side and breathes out when she feels his mouth brush against her just so, his kiss almost too gentle to feel and yet so poignant that she feels another shiver pull through her. Her hand slips down to the back of his neck, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin at the base of his skull, and he breathes out, too.

When Typhon sends them another annoyed hoot, though, Vivian hums, "We should probably start heading back, don't you think?"

Sirius doesn't seem to think that at all, though.

"No," he responds, and lifts his head to kiss her on the mouth again, as if he means to stop her from talking.

It works for a short while, until Vivian laughs and pulls away, sending him a rather heated look that only makes him want to kiss her all the more.

"Come on," is all she says, and laughs again when he frowns petulantly. Typhon looks triumphant, at least. When Vivian picks up his cage and turns back to the path, the creature blinks boastfully at Sirius. Sirius shoots the owl a glower that doesn't seem to do much good, because Typhon merely hoots victoriously and narrows his eyes at him. Damned monster.

They start heading back to Hogsmeade, deciding to take their time rather than just apparating from there. They get only part of the way down the path when a thought crosses Sirius's mind, though, and he stops walking. Vivian doesn't notice at first, but when she realizes that he's no longer beside her, she turns to send him a questioning look.

"I just had a thought," Sirius says by way of explanation.

Vivian lifts her eyebrows and dryly says, "Wow. Did you?"

His mouth curls up in amusement at her sarcastic response, but his expression turns serious once again when he asks, "Why not make Hogsmeade our Plan B?"

Vivian doesn't understand, which is clear enough by the way her brows furrow in confusion.

He explains, "Remember? We were talking about coming up with a back-up plan in case Mulciber finds you? If we're separated for whatever reason and we aren't able to contact each other, we ought to have a place to meet."

Vivian tilts her head, recalling the conversation they had shared, the night she had told him that she had run into Regulus and had admitted that she'd seen Mulciber at the Ministry. Despite their good intentions, they hadn't spoken much about forming any such plan since then. She had rather forgotten about it in wake of their last Order meeting and Dumbledore's subsequent brush-off of her news, but now that he's bringing it up, she does agree that it would be a good idea to continue the discussion.

"Okay," she says, putting a hand on her hip and looking around. "So…what are you thinking, then?"

Sirius jerks his head to the side, nodding at the forest. "Come over here and help me look for a good enough tree."

Still a bit unsure of where he's going with this, Vivian raises an eyebrow as he leaves the path and ventures into the forest. These woods are technically a part of the Forbidden Forest, but they aren't nearly as deep or as dark as they become on the other side of Hogsmeade, closer to the castle. Still, she recalls walking through them during that one particularly dark night at the end of their seventh year, and she knows well enough that the trees get taller and larger the deeper they go.

"A good enough tree?" she repeats, trying to prompt him to reveal his plans to her.

"Yeah, I mean, a tree makes for a good meeting place, right?" he calls back to her. "Plus Hogsmeade is ideal since there are no muggles around, so we won't have to worry about the Statute of Secrecy and all that."

Vivian hums and follows him deeper into the forest. Neither of them is concerned about getting lost, as they can simply use magic to find their way back to the path. Typhon, however, doesn't look too pleased with the change of direction, and eyes the towering trees distrustfully before turning his head to glare at his new mistress.

They walk for a short while, perhaps ten minutes or so, before coming across a small boulder that makes for a good landmark. Growing several feet away from the rock is a tall tree with a hulking trunk. It stands somewhat removed from the rest, as a sentinel might stand along the walls of a tower, ever watchful.

"Perfect," Sirius nods, and then withdraws his wand. Vivian watches him step up to the tree and, with careful precision, write their initials on it.

"That's so cliché," she remarks, but feels herself smiling anyway.

Sirius glances back at her with a grin. "We've got to mark it somehow, don't we?"

She puts Typhon's cage down (much to his annoyance) and steps over to him to curl her arm around his waist, watching him finish his work. Then, once he slips his wand back into his pocket, she reaches out to brush her fingertips over the markings and smiles again.

S.B. & V.B.

"It's perfect," she says, repeating his words from moments before. She turns to look at him, and he grins again.

Of course, she doesn't realize it then – the moment is too pleasant to feel the flash of foreboding that presses into her subconscious, and there's no sense in worrying about the future – but the next time she'll look upon those initials, her world will have begun to burn with a fire that will take twelve years to put out.