A/N: I don't know how I forgot to mention this in previous chapters, but thanks so much for the reviews and feedback on the recent updates! Seeing some familiar usernames is really awesome! It's great to know that people are still reading despite the hiatus I unintentionally took. I am going to be trying to update the story every Sunday like I did in the past, so you can all tentatively expect weekly updates again. That said, if I miss a week, don't freak out on me! Like I've said before, I have no intention of abandoning this and will 100% finish Vivian's story.
A few review responses from the last chapter below. Thanks again for the feedback/reaching out to let me know you're still around! It means a lot to know that people are still interested in reading the story.
Chrysanthemum: There's more of that coming! I'm gonna mess with Mulciber as much as possible lol. Though I do have an actual character arc planned for him with a little hint of redemption thrown in there...not too much, mind, but since he's a bit morally gray, I'm definitely going to take some liberties and see how far I can push him.
KirikaAmdo: Lol. I can totally see where you're coming from, Russell Brand does have some Sirius Black vibes. It's not that far-fetched!
gwenwesley: Agreed! And yeah, that is true about Vivian being less stiff towards Sirius. I'm glad that's coming through the writing, since it's pretty important for her in terms of character development and just generally working with him as a team instead of being solo like she's accustomed to. More fluff incoming as well. I think we're all on the same page regarding the fact that this story is going to take a dark turn considering the coming canon events, but I'm definitely going to even it out as much as I can during the first story arc.
Chapter Sixteen |Minima de malis
[Of the evils, choose the least]
Dear Vivian,
I must admit that I was surprised when you mentioned applying for a job in the field of law. To be honest, I can't really imagine it. Don't take this the wrong way, but you never were a huge fan of authority. Still, I'm impressed with your initiative. A position at the Ministry of Magic is more than credible, and you'll be able to work your way up the ladder, which is always important! In fact, I doubt someone our age could do better elsewhere, especially considering these difficult times. I've heard a few frightening things from several old schoolmates about the atmosphere in England right now. Is it really as bad as they're inferring?
How are you settling into your new job? Are you really working for Adrian Mulciber? Best be careful around him, Vivian. I doubt I have to say that to you but as your only sensible friend, I feel responsible.
Things are going well for me here in Norway. You should come up and visit. I'm sure you'd love it here. Everything is so normal - there are no frightful articles about You-Know-Who at all, though everyone is, of course, following the events in England very closely. Still, it almost feels like a different world. If you're ever interested in getting out of England for a while, you know I'll take you in.
Got to run or I'll be late for my study session. Please reply more promptly this time, Vivian – the last time I was concerned at how long it took to receive a reply.
Sincerely,
Gavin Clarke
PS
Your owl nearly bit my finger off. Where on earth did you find him, the gates of hell?
Clarke,
Things are getting bad over here. It seems that every day there's a new article about an 'accident' in the muggle world. The Dark Lord seems to be targeting them more than anyone else at the moment, but I've no idea how long it will be before he turns more of his attention to his fellow witches and wizards. It's good that you're up in Norway and removed from it all. As a Muggleborn, you'd do best to stay as far away from England as possible for the time being.
My new job is going fairly well. Having Mulciber as a superior in the workplace is no cup of tea, though. He hasn't given me any trouble yet, but I'm not sure how long that will last. He's taken to unloading as much of his work onto me as he possibly can, which is aggravating. And don't start saying that it's just as well or that I'll learn more by filling out his paperwork, Clarke, because I will hex the next letter I send you if you do. Anyway things are going well enough, but it is definitely taking some getting used to. I never imagined I'd be working at the Ministry either, especially in magical law. I don't like it much right now, to be honest, but –
"Vivian, we should leave now or we're going to be late," Sirius's voice carries into the room, and Vivian pauses in the midst of her letter to look over her shoulder at him.
"Alright. Just let me finish this, it'll only take a minute," she responds, dipping her quill into the ink and tapping off the excess.
Sirius doesn't say anything in return. At first. It's only when he's drifting into the room and glancing down to see what she's writing that he rolls his eyes and mutters, "Merlin. Are you really writing to Tosspot Clarke again?"
Vivian rolls her eyes, too, and dryly reminds him, "He's my friend, so yes." Then, mouth curving into a smug smile, she pauses yet again and leans back in her chair to smirk, "Why, do you still have a problem with it?"
Sirius eyes her, looking thoroughly unamused. With a scoff, he responds, "No. Actually, at the moment, I'm wondering if he'd be willing to take you off my hands."
Vivian's smirk only grows at that. She lets out an unbelieving hum and turns back to her letter. Her voice is just as dry as before when she murmurs, "I'm sure he would. He's invited me to stay with him in Norway."
She gets about three words in before Sirius is striding over to the table and grabbing the original letter she had received only just that morning. He starts reading it with a frown, looking highly offended. Vivian just rolls her eyes again and continues writing.
"That tosspot," Sirius scoffs when he reaches the part she's referring to. "And I'm very sensible, I might add."
At this, Vivian laughs. It isn't the reaction he'd been hoping for, to be honest.
"You're a lot of things, Sirius, but I wouldn't go that far," she tells him after a moment, much to his dismay.
"Excuse me!" he exclaims, now turning to her fully. All thoughts of their lateness is utterly forgotten in lieu of this far more critical conversation. Defending one's honor when they are unjustifiably compared to tosspots like Gavin Clarke is, after all, a matter of the highest importance and therefore requires all of Sirius Black's attention.
"I would go that far," he argues. "I'm way more sensible that Clarke. All he does is read books. He lacks the practical knowledge that I have, see?"
In a bored voice, Vivian replies, "Yeah, I see. You're very practical."
Sirius sniffs, "I don't much like your tone, Vivian."
Vivian hums, "That's a shame," and just keeps writing.
Over her shoulder, Sirius stares at her for several moments before grumbling, "Honestly, I get no respect around here. Just move to Norway then, see if I care."
Vivian laughs a bit and signs her name to the bottom of the letter. Then, shaking her head, she glances over at Sirius and says, "Did I ever say I wanted to move to Norway? There's no chance I'm leaving England."
Her adamant reply seems to please him, until of course she has to go and ruin it when she adds, "I don't want to leave my job."
He stares at her. "Your job."
Vivian smirks. "Yeah. It's important to me."
After a moment, Sirius shakes his head at her and mutters something about that lack of respect under his breath, but Vivian has already gone back to her letter. A Slytherin smirk has captured her mouth, pulling up the corners of it with a vengeance as she begins to fold up the parchment. Before she finishes the task, though, she makes a sound in the back of her throat and reaches for her quill again, hastily scrawling an afterthought onto the letter to finish it off. (PS Typhon is the sweetest owl in the world. If he tried to bite off your finger, it's likely your own fault.) Then, reaching for the wax, she says, "I'm ready now. D'you think the others are already there?"
Behind her, Sirius shrugs and mutters, "Probably." He still sounds a bit sore, so she sends him an amused look that he ignores.
"Let's go, then," she says, patting his shoulder as she passes him. "I just need to hunt down Typhon. Have you seen him?"
Sirius's begrudged response is a, "No. If I had, you'd know it."
Vivian glances at him briefly before clearing her throat and nodding, "Yeah, you'd probably have scratches all over your face." Then, with a sniff, she adds in a slightly defensive tone, "It's just his way of saying hello."
Sirius decides not to grace that with a response.
See? He is sensible.
Given the fact that Vivian had handed over that slip of paper to her father, who she hasn't heard from since by the by, Dumbledore makes painstaking efforts to schedule the next meeting via a different method. That is, through verbal communication. And so, instead, over the duration of a week or so, each Order member is informed of when and where to meet through different channels, mainly by way of offhanded whispers or notes slipped to fellow members in passing.
It is in this way that the next meeting is planned. Dumbledore is extremely thorough in the process, ensuring that he doesn't leave anyone out of the loop lest they fail to realize what's going on. For it to succeed, every member must be in the know. It seems to have worked out well enough, for when Vivian and Sirius enter the allotted room in the non-descript muggle restaurant that is to be their meeting place, it is full to bursting with familiar faces. Sirius places a hand on the small of her back and makes a beeline for Remus, Peter, and James, who are standing in the corner near Lily. James lifts a hand in greeting as he sips at some strange, bubbling muggle beverage that's been loaded with ice cubes. There are more glasses of it spread out over the table, no doubt courtesy of the waitress that still actually believes they are here for some sort of group dinner. A few menus are strewn about as well, ignored and unopened.
"Evening, you two," James greets when they join the pair. "We're still waiting on a few of the others." Then, glancing over at Vivian, he offers, "Want a drink, Pride?"
Vivian eyes the bubbling mixture with a distrusting expression. "No. That looks like it might explode."
James just shrugs and opens his mouth to respond, no doubt to offer up some sort of stupid muggle explanation as to why his drink keeps fizzing up dangerously, but thankfully he's interrupted before he can make the attempt.
"Alright, you lot, quiet down!" Moody's gravelly voice sweeps through the room, low-pitched but no less powerful. It catches everyone's attention immediately. A hush falls upon them.
Vivian looks towards the grisly Auror. He's standing beside the tall figure of Dumbledore, who seems to be once again embracing the strangest of muggle garb tonight, for he is dressed in a rather flamboyant patchwork overcoat that completely offsets the rest of his outfit. The solemn expression upon his face only further clashes with the loud colors of it, making it seem all the more out of place. Once everyone's attention falls upon the two men, Moody gruffly clears his throat and shuffles a bit to the side, deferring to Dumbledore.
"There are several points of business to address tonight," Dumbledore announces, sweeping his gaze over those gathered. "Firstly, a few of our members were unable to make it, and so I must entrust the information we are about to discuss to you, Dedalus. Because of your work connection, it is imperative that you inform Emmeline of the plans we are about to go over. And Frank, I'm sure I don't need to tell you the same regarding Alice."
Upon the murmured agreements of both parties, Dumbledore slips a hand into his pocket and retrieves a familiar scrap of parchment. Then, lifting it into the air for all to see, he says, "You are undoubtedly wondering why this meeting was organized without the use of this piece of paper."
More murmured agreements fill the room. Vivian wills herself not to shift uncomfortably when she hears Mundungus Fletcher grumble a bit, muttering at the inconvenience of the whole affair. To say that she hasn't been looking forward to this meeting is an understatement. She's already bracing herself for disagreements.
Dumbledore doesn't immediately explain her part to play in this, though. Instead, he hands the slip of paper to Moody and says, "Alastor, if you would."
The Auror takes the paper and strides to the edge of the long dining table, which is for the most part empty, as most of the members are standing around it rather than sitting in the chairs themselves. The only exception is Arabella Figg, who often complains about a bad leg, and Mundungus, who is sprawled in one of the chairs towards the back.
They all watch as Moody lays the paper down upon the table's surface, lifts his wand, and waves it over the parchment. Then, mere seconds after, dark ink begins to form upon the page. Moody retrieves his own piece of parchment from an inner pocket of his jacket – the one he had not just spelled – and lifts it up to show that it bears the same writing as the one on the table.
"Needless to say, there's been a slight change in plans," Dumbledore says as everyone begins to pull out their own papers to read what Moody had just written.
Vivian glances at the one that Sirius procures from his back pocket. There upon the page, it reads:
September 6th, 1am, Lawrence Court Theatre
"What I am about to tell you may be alarming to some, which is why our next meeting will be on a volunteer basis only," Dumbledore says, drawing back the attention of the room. Everyone seems a bit confused as to what he means by this with the exception of the Marauders, who already have an idea thanks to Sirius. Indeed, none of them seem at all surprised, lest not Vivian herself, who had after all been expecting something of the like to occur. After all, by handing over the piece of paper to her father, she has essentially secured the perfect moment to lay down a trap.
"You see," Dumbledore continues, pushing up his half-moon spectacles, "you are all now aware that our next meeting will include a trip to the theatre. Voldemort is also now aware of this."
It takes about three seconds for the entire room to break out into bewildered and frightened murmurs, which are well on their way to evolving into louder complaints when Dumbledore lifts a hand and turns to Vivian. The sudden attention makes her freeze up, stiffening where she stands. She'd rather been hoping that she wouldn't be singled out, though she'd known it was unlikely to remain under the radar when the plan needs to be explained properly so as to avoid any future blunders.
"Vivian, would you…?" Dumbledore wonders, gesturing that she come up and stand beside him.
She swallows thickly as the rest of the room turns to eye her. Standing slightly behind her, James reaches over to put a hand upon her shoulder. He gives it a squeeze and murmurs, "Go on, Pride. We're with you."
She casts a quick glance at him. He nods at her and prods her forward a bit, and Vivian allows the momentum to break her out of her stiff posture. She can count on one hand the number of times that she's ever felt gratitude towards James Potter, but his subtle encouragement might actually make the list right about now, for she is absolutely dreading what is about to come. Once she falls into place beside Dumbledore and turns back to face the room, it takes all of her willpower not to shift restlessly under the eyes of her fellow members.
"Under my guidance, Miss Blair has taken an initiative that will hopefully give us an advantage," Dumbledore begins. "I know that some of you were wary of Vivian's connections to pureblood society, but let it be known to all that I have complete trust in her, which is precisely why I asked her to go to her father and hand over that bit of parchment. By now, I'm sure all of his fellow Death Eaters are fully aware of the time and location of our next meeting and are, perhaps, already preparing for it. What they do not know, of course, is that they will be walking head-first into a trap."
Surprise spreads through her like molasses, slow and perplexing. Vivian glances over at Dumbledore with confusion blazing through her eyes. Around her, the room breaks out into more hushed murmurs as people dissect Dumbledore's words, but she is too busy trying to wrap her head around the fact that he has essentially taken responsibility for her actions, and is not throwing her to the wolves as she had expected. Dumbledore turns to send her a subtle wink out of the corner of his eye, no doubt reading the thoughts pressing through her eyes.
Just off to the side, Moody clears his throat loudly again to quiet down the room. As the murmurs hush once more, Dumbledore says, "We have in our midst someone who has the ability to infiltrate Voldemort's following. Miss Blair knows many of his supporters personally. If we are careful and strategic enough, she will be an invaluable informant regarding Voldemort's movements and plans. With this said," he lifts a hand to quiet down the room again, which is beginning to break out into more whispers, "I have assisted her in securing a job at the Ministry of Magic, in the Department of Magical Law, where one of her pureblood acquaintances currently works. She will do her utmost to gain his trust and, if she is lucky, gain further access to Voldemort. Our next meeting at the theatre will be proof of her false allegiance to him."
The words 'gain further access' make Vivian pause, but she has no time to question Dumbledore on his precise meaning, for he is already continuing with his explanation. His hand falls upon her shoulder as he announces, "This is why our next meeting will be on a volunteer-basis. There is no question that Voldemort's followers will also be laying a trap for us. Our mission is to reveal ourselves and nothing more. We only need to prove to them that Vivian had been telling the truth so as to solidify her supposed loyalty to their cause. As such, I need not tell you that, should you agree to join the mission, there is a large chance that you will be recognized and, perhaps, singled out."
This time, the room is deathly silent, so much so that the only sound breaking through it is the increasingly eerie ticking of the clock that hangs upon the far wall, beating out the seconds as though it is a war drum.
Dumbledore glances over at Moody, who sends him a gruff nod before turning to the room and crossing his arms. "There are glamor spells we can use to confuse them and hide our identities, but it's not a surefire tactic. Glamors are easily broken if you know what you're doing, and you can be sure that these bastards do." He pauses, then says in a graver tone, "If you decide to join the mission, your primary task is to get out of there the first moment you can. As Albus said, the goal is to prove that Blair wasn't lying about the meeting. If they know they're being set up, she won't have any chance in hell to gain their trust. However," he says, tapping his fingers over the tabletop, "a few of us will be taking advantage of the situation by targeting several specific wizards."
Behind him, Dumbledore clears his throat. Moody falls silent and glances over his shoulder at the older wizard, who interjects, "Before we discuss the second part of the mission, let us first see who might be willing to join us."
The ticking of the clock is practically thunderous. For a very long moment, no one says a single thing.
But then…
"Sounds like fun," James grins, crossing his arms.
At his side, Lily nods, looking gravely determined when she says, "I'll help."
Remus nods too, sending Vivian a small smile. Upon seeing the rest of his friends joining in, Peter quickly agrees shortly thereafter, though he doesn't look entirely happy to do so and keeps wringing his hands in front of him with uncertainty blazing over his face.
A few others step up too – Sturgis Podmore, the Prewett twins, and a few others – before Sirius shoots Vivian a crooked grin, full of bravado, and staunchly says, "Count me in. Who are you targeting, Mad-Eye? I volunteer my services."
For half a second, Dumbledore looks relieved that anyone had volunteered at all, for it is after all a mission that could easily backfire on them if they're not careful. Not only could they potentially lose members the night of the mission, but if anyof the glamor spells are broken, they could be hunted down in the weeks that follow. It certainly isn't a mission for the faint of heart, especially since they currently have no way of knowing how many Death Eaters will arrive. That moment quickly passes, though, as Dumbledore turns back to Moody and gestures for him to continue with his prior explanation.
"From what we know at present, some of the higher-ranking members of Voldemort's following that will likely make an appearance are Abraxas Malfoy, Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange, and Antonin Dolohov," Moody informs the room. "You see any of them, you make it your mission to take them out."
Dumbledore clears his throat again and adds, "Only if an opportunity presents itself. We cannot afford to lose anyone."
Mad-Eye frowns deeply, but grunts in agreement nonetheless. Upon this explanation, the room descends into a flurry of questions as the members who are joining the mission voice their concerns regarding how it might go. As Sturgis Podmore asks Moody about those glamor spells, Vivian sees an opportunity of her own and turns to Dumbledore to ask, "What did you mean when you said 'gain further access'? I'm not about to join the Dark Lord."
That had most definitely not been her intention when she'd gone to her father with that scrap of paper, and if Dumbledore thinks that it's something he might be able to convince to do later down the line, he's dead wrong. She might be pleased to be able to do something useful for the Order, but she isn't going to risk her life in any further capacity. Being a member of this group is already risky enough, not to mention the position she's now placed herself in where it concerns Mulciber and her pureblood acquaintances. She will never accept His mark or join his inner circle. That is going a step too far into the darkness that she has tried so hard to remove herself from.
Dumbledore turns to her. A calm look overcomes him when he tells her, "Worry not, my dear. I've no intention of asking you to do anything you do not wish to do. I only meant that, should you receive any opportunities that might further solidify your place within pureblood society or give you access to more information, you don't immediately refuse them." He eyes her over the rim of his spectacles and adds, "We are in a very precarious position, Vivian. There are many working parts to this plan of yours, and we must carefully consider all of our moves before we make them."
She stares at him, her mind echoing with his explanation, scrambling to understand just what he's getting at. With Dumbledore, she's found that one can ever be completely certain. The man speaks in riddles half the time, his words layered one atop the other with more than one meaning, and she doesn't wish to miss anything when there is so much at stake.
He only sends her another calming look, though, and pats her shoulder with a brief, "You will let me know the very moment you receive intelligence on any kind, even if it seems trivial."
She feels herself nod, but she hardly realizes she's doing it as Dumbledore gives her shoulder one last pat before nodding over to the Marauders, who are busy listening to Moody as he fields questions. "You should hear what Alastor has to say. But before you go, will you be joining the mission?"
A conflicted expression crosses her face. She wonders, "Would it mess up the plans if I'm seen?"
Dumbledore muses, "I think not. In fact, there's a large chance that they'll be expecting you to be there. It is your decision."
Vivian nods shortly, stuffing her hands into her pocket. Her fingers curl around the handle of her wand in an almost idle fashion, but her voice is not quite as idle when she responds, "I will, then. I've got to make sure Sirius doesn't get himself killed."
Dumbledore's expression shifts into one of faint amusement. He glances over at Sirius, who's full attention is on Moody, and chuckles, "Yes, Mr. Black does have a bit of a reckless streak."
She throws a look at Dumbledore before turning back to eye Sirius across the room. That, after all, is the understatement of the century.
Upon the conclusion of the meeting, the Marauders decide to swing by a pub before ending the night. It's been some time since they'd all gathered together to have a drink, and since Remus is currently in England and will be for a while, it's as good a time as ever.
The pub they end up in is a few streets away from the muggle restaurant that had hosted their meeting. Dumbledore had cast a charm on the waitress so that she has a memory of bringing food to the table. Vivian isn't sure if he'd actually left money or if he dropped in a memory of paying for their illusionary food, too, but they receive strange looks as they all file out into the night once said charms are completed. Considering how often Vivian finds herself in muggle London these days, the looks don't faze her quite as much as they used to, though it would be lying to claim that being around so many muggles doesn't still put her a bit on edge.
The same could, indeed, be said about that pub they all end up in. To say that it's chock-full of muggles would be a tragic understatement.
James sees the expression on her face and snorts, "Your face is getting a bit pale, Pride."
Vivian shoots him an annoyed look for that, rolling her eyes a bit as she dodges muggles on the way to their table. She's a bit reluctant to sit down, actually. As if a pub full of these strange creatures isn't tiring enough, an evening with one James Potter most assuredly is. She doesn't stop Sirius from taking her arm and pulling her towards their table, however, though she does make sure to send James another glower as she settles into her chair.
As all four of the Marauders (plus two Honorary Marauders) sit down, Vivian sends Lily a slightly more amicable look that she reserves for people who don't annoy her half to death. It's returned with a smile as Sirius lingers by his chair, apparently having decided to take orders.
"Just get us all pints," James tells him. Then he glances at Vivian and smirks, "Have you ever had muggle beer before, Pride? Padfoot, get Pride something stronger. She needs to let loose around some muggles for once."
Padfoot rolls his eyes at his friend and shoots Pride a calm glance that is no doubt meant to inform her he'll just be getting pints and nothing more. Pride just shrugs at him before turning to stare at James.
"Really?" she says.
He pushes his glasses up. "What? You're always so standoffish around muggles is all."
Sirius returns with the pints several minutes later. After he sits down and distributes them around the table, he pushes Vivian's towards her with a wink. The look makes her narrow her eyes at him slightly, not sure what to make of it…until she lifts her pint to her lips and takes a cautious sip of it.
"…Is that firewhiskey?" she asks him. The distinctive taste of the warm spices lingers on her tongue.
Sirius shoots her a wicked smile that totally cancels out the way he innocently murmurs, "Just a dash."
He flips open the side of his black leather jacket to show off the flask he's got stuffed into its inner pocket. Vivian sighs at him. He just sends her a crooked grin and leans back in his chair, straightening his jacket as he does.
"So. Wow. All the Marauders are back together. Even our Honorary members are with us. It's so nice," James sighs dramatically, throwing his arm over the back of Lily's chair with a satisfied expression. "I don't know why, but it feels like years since we were all in the same room together like this."
Vivian tries not to roll her eyes again. As for Sirius, he just nods in agreement and asks, "How's it been, Rem? Pete?"
Remus shrugs and replies, "Alright. I'll be leaving again soon to talk to another pack, this time in Bulgaria. That's not for a few weeks, though."
James glances over at him and asks, "How're the job applications coming along?"
The question makes Remus shift uncomfortably and mumble, "They're coming."
A tense moment goes by before James pats his shoulder and says, "Well, keep trying, Moony. No stone left unturned, yeah?"
Remus nods, looking a tiny bit glum, then looks over at Peter, who is clutching his butterbeer with both hands and staring into it with a similarly glum expression.
"Alright, Pete? You seem off today," he says.
Peter does indeed seem off. The reason for this, as they soon learn, is that he'd just gotten dumped.
"I don't know what happened," he sighs. "I thought things were going well. I even got her flowers the last time I saw her. I spent half my paycheck on them, too. Why're flowers so expensive, anyway?"
He pushes his sandy blonde hair out of his face and sighs again; the sound of a man scorned.
James crosses his arms, studying Peter's face for a moment before attempting to make him feel better and announcing, "Well, you're better off without her, mate. If a bird rejects you after you try giving her flowers, she's definitely not worth it."
Vivian raises a very dry eyebrow at this. It takes a few seconds for James to notice.
"…What?" he wonders, looking genuinely confused.
Shaking her head, Vivian deadpans, "How many times did you try to give Lily flowers, Potter?" James parts his mouth to respond, but before he can, she finishes in an even more deadpan voice, "And how many times did she flat out reject you?"
He starts to splutter.
"That's besides the point – "
"I don't know about the rest of you, but my count is one hundred and thirty six," Vivian adds, glancing around the table with a speculative expression. James's mouth parts a little more at the thought of her actually keeping a tally of his love-related misfortunes.
Across the way, Remus taps his cheek and wonders, "Are you including the first year tulip incident?"
Sirius smirks, "Oh Merlin, I almost forgot about. He hexed it so that it bit Lily's nose when she got close to it."
Off to the side, James clears his throat and says, "Let's not relive the past, gentlemen – "
"Yeah, he was a bit of an arse to her in the beginning," Remus adds.
"I really feel like that's a strong word, Rem – "
"So the count is one hundred and thirty seven, then," Vivian nods, then catches James's eye with a wide smirk. "Point is, your advice sucks, Potter."
James pouts over at Lily as if he's hoping she might jump to his aid, but she only pats his arm and shrugs at him. He sighs.
"This reunion isn't nearly as fun as it was a few minutes ago," he mutters.
"I don't know, I'm having a great time," Remus says.
"Shut it, Moony. You try to cheer Wormtail up then, since I'm apparently so unqualified," James snorts.
Remus shrugs and offers, "Right. Er…how about this? No matter what happens, Pete, you'll never get rejected quite as many times as James here."
Vivian can't quite stop herself from snorting into her butterbeer at that. Remus looks rather pleased at her reaction, for he shoots her a little smirk as Sirius snickers and pats her on the back. Peter seems to find Remus's words a bit amusing too, for he exchanges his glum expression with one that's slightly more lighthearted. As for James…
"You know what, I don't know why I was so excited to see you lot," he sniffs, crossing his arms again. "You're really not that great."
He sends Vivian a glowering look, apparently blaming her for the entirety of the last minute. She only smirks at him in response, quite happy to take full credit.
"…So, now that we've discussed James's many rejections, how's the Auror applications? Hear anything from Moody yet?" Remus wonders, glancing between James and Sirius.
James turns his glowering look onto Remus. Sirius shakes his head. "Not yet," he says when James doesn't offer up a response. "But Moody says it's just a matter of time. We're the ideal candidates, apparently. Aced our Defense NEWTs and all that."
The slight bragging tone that he uses to say this seems to uplift James's mood, for he quickly adds, "Yeah, we'll definitely get in. I'm expecting an owl any day now."
Remus nods, looking happy for them. If he also looks slightly embittered at the thought of his friends so easily getting jobs when he's having such a hard time of it, Remus doesn't mention it. Instead, he gives a faint smile and replies, "That's great."
"What about you, Pete? Are you still doing bartending work, or did you land that job at the editing company?" James asks, recalling a previous conversation that was had a month or so ago at the last Order meeting.
Peter shrugs and says, "No, I'm still at the pub for now, but I've got another interview next week."
"I'm sure you'll ace it," Remus tells him. "Just don't wear that mustard suit, because it looks…er – "
"Like mold," James helpfully nods.
Peter rolls his eyes and Remus elbows James with a muttered, "I was looking for a better word than 'moldy'."
James hisses back, "There is no better word, Moony."
"So how's your new job at the Ministry, Vivian?" Lily says, raising her voice so that she can be heard over James and Remus's muttered words (they seem to be comparing synonyms now).
Vivian glances at her and shrugs, "Yeah. S'alright, I guess."
"How about 'mildewy'?" James murmurs.
"No, I liked your other suggestion better."
"Yeah, except 'fungusy' isn't a proper word."
"But that's never stopped you before."
"Too true, Moony – "
"Would you both shut up about Peter's suit? I think it looks fine," Lily tells the pair impatiently, looking annoyed at their utterly useless conversation.
James pushes his glasses up and sighs, "Lilyflower, please, we're having a very intellectual discussion here."
Across the table, Sirius snorts lifts his glass to take a sip of his beer. As he does, he suggests, "How about 'mucus'?"
As James pauses to consider this contribution, Peter glances down to eye his suit. "It's not that bad of a color," he attempts to defend.
The boys don't agree. Lily turns to send Vivian a look that is quickly and impatiently returned.
"No one cares what color his suit is," Vivian snaps at them when they attempt to come up with more descriptions.
James shakes his head at her and sarcastically responds, "I beg your pardon, Pride. Clearly our conversation isn't engaging enough for you, so I suppose we'd better do our utmost to keep you entertained."
Vivian turns to give him an annoyed look that doesn't appear to faze James at all. He merely shakes his head and glances over at the others, declaring, "Gentlemen, I believe we need to set up a clause within the Marauder Code. I mean, look, we've got two Honorary Marauders attempting to derail our important conversation."
Remus rests his chin in his hand and sighs. Peter shoots James a bewildered look. Sirius doesn't look like he's paying much attention and keeps shooting Vivian looks as she sips at the strange mixture of muggle beer and firewhiskey that Sirius had concocted. Neither of the two Honorary Marauders look as though they're listening to James at all. Lily, too, is blatantly ignoring him in favor of getting up to use the loo, evidently deciding that, if there was ever a moment to make herself scarce, it's the one that involves James having a lengthy monologue on the finer aspects of the Dishonorable Code of Maraudership or whatever it is he calls it.
"You're an idiot," Vivian informs James from across the table, much to his exasperation.
Peering at her over the rim of his glasses, James sniffs and replies, "And you're an Honorary Marauder. D'you know what that means, Pride? Honorary – let me put it this way, if the Maraudership could be likened to societal divisions, you'd be second class."
Sirius lifts an eyebrow at James and sarcastically cautions him, "You might want to be careful what you say next, Prongs."
James shoots a slightly betrayed look at his friend, likely for immediately jumping to Vivian's side and blatantly disrespecting the dishonorable code, and mutters, "It was just an analogy."
Vivian shakes her head at him as if she thinks he's pitiful. She glances over at Sirius and drawls, "I don't understand how he ended up convincing Lily that he's worth her time."
A smirk blazes through Sirius's eyes at that. James isn't quite as amused, though.
"Oi! Don't bring Lily into this!" he tells her, looking properly ruffled.
"It was just a thought," Vivian flippantly responds, taking his previous words and altering them just so. James doesn't appear to appreciate that, either, and glowers at her.
Remus clears his throat. Hoping to break this up before an actual argument occurs (one never truly knows what to expect with those two), he asks, "So Vivian, about this plan of yours…"
When he trails off and doesn't continue, Vivian raises an eyebrow at him and wonders, "What about it? Dumbledore explained it all at the meeting."
Remus nods, then frowns and murmurs, "Yeah, but it sounds a bit dangerous. Are you sure you're up for it? It wasn't easy, removing yourself from Mulciber's path, and now you're jumping right back into his life."
His previous exasperation now dissipating, James nods and adds, "Plus, I don't see how he'll trust you, Vivian. He hates your guts for rejecting him."
Vivian takes another sip of the concoction Sirius had made for her, not replying at first. It isn't as though she hasn't also had these concerns, but now that she's taken the first few steps – now that she's offered up her spell and is well and truly on the path – she finds herself a little less afraid than she might have otherwise expected. After all, so long as she's careful, she'll be fine, right? She can toe the line and still stay standing. It's what Slytherins do best.
"I can handle Adrian Mulciber," she tells them confidently. Then, with a shrug, she adds, "And he might not trust me, but that doesn't mean I can't use him for information."
At her side, Sirius lifts an arm to drape it over the back of her chair. Their eyes meet briefly, but he doesn't contribute to the conversation. He's already said his piece.
"And you're okay with this, Sirius?" James asks, sounding a bit miffed. "Your girl is going after Mulciber – the man she used to be engaged with, I might add – and you're not worried?"
Sirius pauses, glances back at Vivian again, and then mutters, "Viv and I have already talked about it. At length."
Vivian snorts quietly in the back of her throat at that. They hadn't done much talking, after all. Yelling, shouting, and exchanging many an angry word is a more accurate description.
"Besides," Sirius adds, straightening his leather jacket with a smirk, "she was engaged to me first."
This thoroughly useless reminder makes James stare at him for all of two seconds before sighing and rolling his eyes. Remus shakes his head at Sirius's constant need to always come first in every single damned thing. Peter looks a bit uncomfortable with the way Sirius shoots Vivian a smug grin. As for their last Honorary Marauder…
"What'd I miss?" Lily asks as she returns from the loo, sliding back into her chair and turning to the table at large.
Remus shrugs and sarcastically quips, "So many things. Second class citizens, Adrian Mulciber, pureblood engagements – "
James nods and helpfully informs her, "Sirius is somehow managing to have another competition with Mulciber despite him not even being here. It's truly amazing."
Lily, naturally, has no idea what they're going on about. This isn't entirely shocking, so she doesn't even bother asking.