A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Hope you all enjoy this chapter. The gala will be continuing in the next update as well. I intended to write it all into one chapter, but as usual, I got carried away and ended up writing more than I anticipated. I figured it would be good to give myself a bit more time to figure out how exactly to write the next few scenes anyway, so hopefully you all aren't too upset with the cliffhanger at the end of the chapter.
Chapter Twenty | Est ars etiam male dicendi
[There is an art even to malediction]
Halloween Night is a blustery one. There seems to be a storm rolling in, its dark clouds hanging low over the earth all day. A chill has sparked through the air, growing sharper with each passing hour. It is the perfect sort of night for a Halloween celebration. The faintest hint of danger pervades the air, made all the more poignant with the dark clothing of the gala's attendees.
Vivian had spent some time considering what she should wear tonight. Given the fact that she is not really on speaking terms with her family at the moment despite her recent orchestrations, she couldn't very well riffle through the closet in the Blair manor, which contains within its walls countless dress robes that would do the trick. Sirius had finally grown tired of her musings and had handed her a couple of galleons from their stash, ordering her to 'have at it' and 'be home before dark, though'.
She hadn't wanted to dip into their money to purchase a new set of robes. They ought to be careful about what they buy lest they run out of Sirius's inheritance. Though Vivian has a proper paycheck now and Sirius will as well, once his training is done, it isn't a large salary. They've spent most of their money on furnishing the cottage and purchasing basic necessities at the charity shops that Vivian has grown more familiar with of late (though, by the by, she's still not very impressed with them).
Anyway, the thought of spending money on clothes for the gala had been a necessary evil which Vivian had initially rebuked, until Sirius had grown tired of her constant worrying about not being taken seriously in hand-me-downs. It's probably just as well, because as Vivian steps into the Mulciber manor that night, she reckons she wouldn't be taken seriously. Everyone is dressed to the nines, with no expenses spared. She still feels a bit underdressed even in her new set of burgundy dress robes.
Apparently not everyone thinks so, though.
"You look nice," Regulus murmurs from off to the side once she enters the house, his voice catching her off guard.
Vivian turns to look his way. It seems as though he's been waiting for her, for he pushes off from one of the marble pillars that rise up in the foyer of the manor and sends her one of his barely-there smiles as his eyes dip over her form.
If it had been anyone else giving her a look-over, Vivian might've been uncomfortable. As it is, though, she just hums and brushes out nonexistent wrinkles from the flowing skirt, shrugging, "Thanks. It's not quite as nice as Mrs. Mulciber's, though."
She eyes the woman. Mr. and Mrs. Mulciber are standing at attendance across the way, near the threshold of the large dining room where most of the guests are currently congregating. They're greeting people as they pass, shaking hands and offering words of welcome.
Regulus shuffles to a stop beside Vivian and quietly snorts, "If you like looking like a peacock, I suppose."
His dry sarcasm makes her quirk a smile. She takes one last look at Mrs. Mulciber's green and blue robes before glancing at Regulus and saying, "You look nice, too."
He's clearly put some effort in for the gala tonight, for his black robes are pristine and drape over his shoulders attractively. Coupled with the white dress shirt and black bowtie, he strikes quite a figure. She eyes him for a moment and wryly adds, "You even combed your hair back."
Regulus lifts a hand to his hair and shoots her a look as if to silently tell her to cease with her teasing. He mutters, "My mum practically attacked me with a comb when I came down the stairs." Then, sighing, he asks, "Does it look as awful as I think it does?"
Vivian immediately shakes her head and reassures, "No, it looks fine. I just forgot how long it's gotten."
He sends her another faint smile, the one that hardly lifts up the edge of his mouth, and dryly responds, "I put my foot down when she tried to cut it off."
She snickers a bit at that, and a flash of satisfaction momentarily fills Regulus's eyes at her amusement. That does sound rather frightening. Walburga Black is not a woman to be taken lightly, and Vivian can only imagine the sight of her holding a pair of scissors and trying to wrangle her son into a haircut. The mental image nearly makes her grimace.
"So…" Regulus murmurs, slipping his hands in his pockets as they idle near the front door. "I suppose we ought to discuss how we'll be handling tonight before we head inside."
The lighthearted atmosphere that had been growing between them lessens somewhat at this reminder. Vivian nods, glancing around at the foyer before stepping to the side, out of the way. Regulus gravitates towards her, shuffling back as well.
"I'm surprised that you agreed to be my date," Vivian murmurs at him, deciding first to gauge his reaction to her even being there at all. It had been a bit difficult to do so through the few letters they had sent each other regarding the subject. Regulus is very to-the-point in his correspondence and hasn't revealed his true thoughts about her sudden invitation to the gala. He had merely agreed to act as a barrier of sorts between her and the others, and had warned her once again that he can only offer so much assistance to her.
Now, though, as he turns to look at her, she can detect a little more of those thoughts in his eyes, especially when he murmurs back, "I'm not sure why you'd be surprised, Vivian. I think I've made my feelings for you pretty obvious by now."
There's a callous energy in his words when he says this which surprises her all the more. He has indeed made his feelings known, but she hadn't expected him to be so bold in reminding her of them. As such, it is with a slightly awkward expression that she hedges, "…I'm sorry."
Regulus lifts his eyebrows at her.
"Why?" he asks, looking genuinely confused.
She purses her mouth and glances away from him. The iron of his gaze is softer than it normally is, and she feels a bit ill at ease beneath his stare.
"Just…you know," she fumbles inelegantly. "I don't want it to seem as though I'm…using you."
For some reason, he laughs quietly at that. She finds out why when he wryly tells her, "You are using me. And I'm letting you, Vivian, because I'd rather you use me than wind up dead."
She raises her eyes to stare at him. He quirks an eyebrow at her and sighs, "Look, let's not rehash this right now, okay? We don't have a lot of time before people will start wondering why we're just standing here."
A part of her wants to discuss this thing between them, perhaps to put it into a context that she can more readily digest, but Vivian knows that he's right. She nods and sighs as well, fixing her sleeves as she says, "Right. Well, I'm sure Mulciber will collect me at some point to test out my spell. Until then, I guess we'll just…mingle."
She's not looking forward to that, but it is the reason she'd come, after all. Besides the need to prove herself to Adrian and get him off her back, she needs to talk to people and attempt to reclaim her old status. She can't deny that she's nervous to do so. A fluttery feeling has been sweeping through her gut all day, and now that she's finally here, it's only increasing like the tempest that's blowing outside.
"I'm coming with you when Adrian seeks you out," Regulus informs her, clasping his hands behind his back and peering at her from the corner of his eye.
A small shard of relief joins the nervousness. Still, Vivian swallows, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
He shrugs, "I don't care if it's a good idea or not. I'm not letting you go anywhere alone with Adrian Mulciber."
For a moment, neither of them says anything. But then Regulus notices the surprised look Vivian is sending him and quirks an eyebrow at her.
"What?" he asks. "I may not be the right brother, but I do care about you."
He watches her hum in the back of her throat and murmur, "…I care about you too, which is why I think it'd be best if you stayed at the party. I'm sure a lot of people still think I'm a blood traitor. You shouldn't associate yourself with me beyond dancing and mingling, it might end up having…repercussions for you, down the line."
To her surprise, Regulus just scoffs at that, and immediately responds, "Maybe. But I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you tonight. There's no way you're going alone."
She almost reminds him about his limited offer of help, and how he'd told her that if she got in the way of his own loyalties, he'd step away from her. Before she can, though, she clamps the words down. He's surely thought this through beforehand. Regulus doesn't do anything without thoroughly considering all of his options, and in any case, she isn't going to reject his assistance. She'd feel way more comfortable if he accompanied her. When it comes down to it, despite their differences and the gap that has opened up between them since Hogwarts, there is still a layer of trust that exists beneath their connection, and she innately knows that he will make sure that Mulciber doesn't try anything underhanded.
She hopes he knows that she'll do what she can for him, too. Their opposing loyalties aside, there's something between them that bridges over that gap. Something they both seem to prefer pretending isn't there to begin with.
"Alright, then," she agrees. "Should we go?"
Regulus sends her a sighing glance.
"I suppose we might as well," he responds, holding out his arm for her.
She takes it, slotting her hand into his elbow. Together, they step forward.
Vivian's presence comes as something of a surprise to her peers, it seems. Mulciber must not have informed very many people that he'd extended an invitation to her, for she receives quite a few strange looks as she lets Regulus lead her into the room. She tries to ignore them for now, but she knows she won't be able to for very long.
She's been in the Mulciber's home a number of times during her youth. It's a fine manor, with marbled archways and gleaming floors. The room they're now entering is usually used as a large dining hall, but the table she recalls being stationed at its center is currently gone so as to make space. The room opens up to several others, large mahogany doorways opened to allow the guests to come and go through them. To the right is a large room that would normally be used to serve coffee and other after-dinner drinks. To the left is a short hallway that leads to another room often designated as a ballroom of sorts, which Vivian suspects is where the sound of music is coming from. She can hear the violins from where she's standing with Regulus, drifting through the lower levels of the home and filling the space with delicate notes.
Everyone is here. She's attended enough of these types of gatherings as a child to recognize many of the faces. Besides the old pureblood families, there are delegates from the Ministry in attendance and various up and coming businessmen hoping to make connections. A few reporters are sprinkled around the room as is usual at these events, but Vivian ignores them. She doesn't want that sort of attention on her tonight.
For a moment, the pair idle just inside the room. Dinner will no doubt be served at some point in the near future, though Vivian isn't sure where. If she recalls correctly, there are several small dining rooms on the ground floor that are used for various purposes. Perhaps Mrs. Mulciber had decided to use one of them.
It strikes her as strange – jarring, even – that she might have been one of the people organizing this event had she remained upon the track that her parents had wished for her. That tried but true future that had been arranged on her behalf would have doubtlessly placed her in the center of this gala tonight. As Adrian's soon-to-be wife, she likely would have been obliged to assist Mrs. Mulciber in her planning. She would, perhaps, even be standing beside the woman that they are now approaching, greeting their guests alongside her.
The thought makes her want to wrinkle her nose, but Vivian doesn't move her face from its careful expression. She can't afford to allow herself to be as transparent as she's grown accustomed to, these past few months living with Sirius. Tonight, she must become Vivian Blair, heiress of the Blair fortune. She has to convince them that she still considers herself to be that person, even if they don't.
"Mr. Mulciber. Mrs. Mulciber," Regulus greets. He's holding himself steady at her side, his back straightened in impeccable posture. It's only when his eyes drift over to Adrian, who is standing dutifully beside his parents, that Regulus changes. It is almost imperceptible, but Vivian knows him well, and she can detect the slight disparagement in his tone when he nods, "Adrian."
To say that the next few moments are awkward would be a deplorable understatement. Vivian is all too aware of her broken engagement with their son, and so is Mrs. Mulciber. Adrian's father doesn't seem to care quite as much, but he is still just as cold and aloof as ever when he inclines his head toward Vivian. His eyes flash at her beneath the cowl of his emotions, which are quietly held back. Vivian isn't sure what he's thinking, and so she doesn't even attempt to hazard a guess.
As for Mrs. Mulciber…
It's clear that her opinion of Vivian has fallen to the wayside, so to speak. This is likely because of Vivian's apparent rejection of her son, but she suspects there might be more to it. The words 'blood traitor' drift through her mind as Vivian offers the woman a cold smile to match her own. Mrs. Mulciber greets her politely enough, but Vivian can't ignore the undercurrent of judgement that's thinly veiled beneath the surface.
Adrian is another matter entirely. He's strangely jovial, in fact, when he sends Vivian a crooked grin and says, "You look stunning, Vivian. Though I'm not sure red if your color."
Vivian tightens her fingers on Regulus's arm, unsure what to say in response to that.
"…It's burgundy," she settles for, which seems to amuse him, for he smirks.
"Mmm…looks a bit Gryffindor to me," he purrs, his eyes darting liberally over her form. With a tilt of his head and innocently asks, "Are you trying to make a statement?"
Vivian has to force her expression to remain blankly polite. The urge to glare at him has never been stronger.
"No, I just liked the color," she shrugs at him, but something tense must come out in her voice because his smirk twitches up in response. Merlin, she should've gone with those black dress robes instead. She didn't think burgundy was crossing a line before, but suddenly she isn't so sure.
At her side, Regulus clears his throat and takes a step away to allow a few other people to greet the hosts. The movement draws Adrian's attention to him. He studies their locked arms for a moment before humming, "You two look…friendly. And here I thought you had a falling out."
Regulus's expression doesn't change when he calmly responds, "Not at all. We've always been close."
Adrian hums. There's a light in his eye that Vivian doesn't like, which is ultimately what has her shuffling further into Regulus's side and shooting him a little smirk. She knows that she's playing a dangerous game when she murmurs, "Regulus was all for my plan regarding his brother. You know as well as anyone how much bad blood there is between them, Adrian."
She says his name with the slightest trace of disparagement. He hums again and, for a moment, doesn't respond. As for Regulus, he stands stiffly at her side, his back still as straight as a board, and remains silent as well, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Vivian's words. She can't tell if he's annoyed at her for that, but it was part of their agreement, after all. Forming their own quiet alliance is something they both knew they'd be doing tonight.
"Yes, well, save me a dance, won't you, Vivian?" Adrian asks after another moment spent studying their entwined arms. He flashes her a little grin and murmurs, "I'll come and find you when everything is ready."
She knows he's talking about the spell. Vivian's mouth curls up into something that she hopes resembles a smile. Judging from the flash of amusement in Adrian's eyes, she's got a feeling it falls short.
She responds with a nod, deciding not to offer a verbal response. Her throat feels tight, and she doesn't want him to detect the wary nerves that are closing it up. To say that she isn't looking forward to tonight would be a terrible lie. She's absolutely dreading it.
Still, Regulus being there helps. He pulls her away from the hosts and further into the room, scanning the occupants of it with his usual brand of strategic forethought. She sees Narcissa across the way, standing beside Lucius and his parents. Her own parents appear not to have showed up yet, though she's sure they'll be here at some point this evening. She feels rather lost among the sea of familiar faces, some of which she attended school with and others that she's connected to through familiar ties and other pureblood associations. She's glad Regulus is with her. She's not sure how she'd handle tonight without some kind of assistance to bolster her, and Regulus has always put her at ease in a way she can't describe. He's like a silent sentinel guarding over her, even in the moments she hadn't asked him to.
"Drink?" he murmurs at her.
She nods.
As they make their way across the room to where a server is standing, holding a tray of perfectly poured martini glasses, Regulus mutters, "He knows something."
Vivian suspects the same. She murmurs back, "I guess we didn't fool him very well."
He reaches out to take a martini glass and offer it to her. Then, after selecting one for himself, Regulus pulls her off to the side and responds in an undertone, "I don't know why you thought this was a good idea. He saw you snogging my brother more than once at Hogwarts, remember?"
His blunt reminder makes her clear her throat as she takes a sip. Shooting him a slightly more pointed glance, Vivian mutters back, "I told him that it was all part of the plan to get Sirius to trust me."
Regulus nearly rolls his eyes at her, which tells her how silly he thinks she's currently being. Such childish actions have been long hammered out of him due to his upbringing. She can tell that he's exasperated with her from this alone.
"You're not as good of a liar as you like to think you are," he says under his breath.
Vivian scoffs. "I'm not a terrible one, either."
"Yes, but you're in a room full of Slytherins, most of whom are exceptional at sniffing out lies," he fires back.
"Which is why you're here, to make it all more believable."
Regulus shakes his head slightly and mumbles, "I'm not certain any of it is believable to Adrian. He looked more amused than anything else. It doesn't sit right with me."
Their back and forth ends with that. Vivian falls silent for a moment as her eyes drift back to Adrian's form. He is facing the front of the room, giving her only the smallest glimpse of his profile as he turns his head to greet another guest. She hates to admit it, but Regulus is right. He hadn't invited her to this party to be a good pureblood associate. This is something she had already known, but now that she's here, the thought only gains traction in her mind, spinning down other avenues that she hadn't wanted to consider before, lest she lose her courage to come here tonight.
He does know something. He wouldn't be so amused if he hadn't. He used to be annoying possessive of her back at Hogwarts, when they both thought, for a while at least, that they would end up married in the near future. Seeing her and Regulus attending together had only made him smirk, though. Whatever possessive feelings might have been lingering within him had not been resurrected at the sight of them so close. Instead, his initial reaction had been to chuckle.
Yes, something is amiss. Vivian just wishes she knew what it was.
"You said you wanted to mingle," Regulus reminds her after a few minutes of silence. She grumbles beneath her breath, and a faint smile threads its way over his face. In an amused tone, he murmurs, "I think I see Morrigan over there. Good place to start."
Morrigan Flint is indeed standing nearby. Vivian had seen her briefly before, but hadn't made to go and talk to her. She'd needed a moment to collect herself after Adrian's greeting. If she's being honest, she could use a couple moments more, but she did come here to renew her old acquaintances, and Morrigan is certainly one of them. With a sigh, she nods, stepping forward.
It's awkward, at first. She hadn't expected it to be easy, though.
"Vivian," Morrigan says, lifting her eyebrows as though in surprise. It's likely not real, though. She must have noticed Vivian's arrival. With a cautious expression, she muses, "Never thought I'd see you at one of these parties again."
Vivian hums and replies, "Yeah…what're they calling me now? Blood traitor?"
Well, she's never been one to beat around the bush, as they say.
The blunt words seem to make Morrigan smirk a little, at least. The awkwardness turns a bit less encompassing when she snickers, "That's about right. Though if you're here, then I suppose you haven't abandoned us after all."
She sends Vivian a look as if she's silently wondering if those words are correct, and Vivian quickly takes the opportunity to reassure, "I never abandoned you to begin with. I'm currently partaking in a game of strategy, you could say."
Her words are just mysterious enough to catch Morrigan's complete attention, her Slytherin sensibilities stoked at the thought of unraveling Vivian's motives. With a curious expression, she says, "A game of strategy? Do tell."
Vivian, though, knows better than to reveal all of her cards in one fell swoop. She'd much prefer hanging back and watching how everyone else plays their cards, first.
With a quiet smirk, she takes a sip of her martini glass and responds, "I think I'll let you wait and see."
Morrigan snorts at her, shooting her a frown. It's quickly erased, though, when she glances at Regulus and drawls, "Fancy seeing you here, Reg. And with Vivian, no less."
Regulus merely shrugs. Having never been known as a man of many words, he gets away with not responding to this, and Morrigan doesn't press him.
"So…are you still engaged to Dolohov?" Vivian wonders, glancing down to see if there's an engagement ring on Morrigan's finger. Last she'd heard, the Flints had been discussing a tentative betrothal between him and their daughter, but that had been back during their last year at Hogwarts, and Vivian has obviously lost touch with the pureblood world since then.
Morrigan snorts and mutters, "Last I checked, yeah. Merlin, he's awful. I've been working on my mother to get her to change her mind. There're plenty of other options."
Vivian nods in agreement. She wouldn't say 'plenty', but there are certainly other choices, and better ones for that matter. Dolohov is much older than Morrigan after all, and has a reputation for being rather coarse and uncivilized among their pureblood peers.
"How's that going for you?" she asks, genuinely curious.
It feels so strange to be talking to Morrigan after all this time. In a way, it's almost as if they've never stopped communicating to being with, especially when Morrigan sends her a knowing look and mutters, "Not as well as I'd like. He's very wealthy, which is all my mum cares about. I'll still try, though. It's not over till it's over and all that."
They speak a bit more about what they've been up to. Vivian mainly asks Morrigan questions so as to dissuade her from doing the same. She doesn't want to have to lie to her old friend, though at this point, everyone knows or at least suspects that she's been living with Sirius all this time. News of her supposed disinheritance did quite a number of the pureblood world in the months following graduation, after all.
After a while, her and Regulus move on. None of the following conversations they engage themselves in are quite as smooth as talking with Morrigan. The awkwardness is quick to return, accompanied with many strange looks. People are obviously wondering if they had gotten it wrong, about Vivian. If the rumors they had heard about her supposed fall from grace had been just that: rumors.
The fact that it seems apparent that people are even questioning those rumors is good news to Vivian. It tells her that she has a chance to make this work. If she was truly hated among her peers, then they wouldn't pause to wonder if they were wrong in their assumptions. She'll take what she can get at this point. She's not about to complain, no matter how much the constant looks are making her uncomfortable.
"Adrian's coming," Regulus murmurs in her ear sometime later. So far, they've been successful in avoiding him, but it can't last forever, she knows.
"Great. Dance with me?" she asks hopefully, wanting to put this off for a while longer.
Regulus just sends her a look.
"Let's get this over with, Vivian," he responds. "It'll be alright. I won't leave your side."
She sighs but doesn't argue. He's right, after all. The sooner she can finish this, the sooner she can get back to Sirius, whose open and confident presence is something she's been missing all evening.
Unfortunately, though, Adrian has something else in mind before he drags her off to test her spell. When he told her to save him a dance, apparently he was being serious.
"Let's give them a show, Blair," Adrian smirks at her when he reaches them. For a moment, Vivian isn't sure what he means, but when he opens his hand out for her to take, she feels her stomach drop a bit.
With a frown, she eyes the outstretched hand and replies, "You really want to dance with me? I thought you were joking about that."
Adrian quips out a short laugh. His eyebrow lifts up challengingly as he drawls, "It's just a dance."
It isn't just a dance, and they both know it. Nothing is ever that simple when one is attending a gala like this. If anything, dancing with Adrian Mulciber would be more of a statement than anything else. A statement that she isn't sure she wants to make. She knows how it will look. Adrian is the fiancé that she should have had. He represents the life she should have lived. He is a symbol of pureblood lineage at its finest, his unsullied blood as near to perfect as one could ever strive for – the epitome of supremacy. By dancing with her, it would draw attention to the differences between them. It would place Vivian into a spotlight that would showcase her every flaw.
Blood traitor, her mind whispers. She purses her mouth.
And yet by refusing him…
She can see people glancing at them. Adrian has made no attempt at hiding his intentions. He had purposefully waited for Regulus and her to draw themselves to the center of the room before approaching them. He had waited until the opportune moment to strike, in which Vivian couldn't possibly refuse without the entire room taking notice of it.
What an absolute bastard.
She has two choices. The first is to accept, and to be compared to what her peers consider an upstanding member of pureblood society, thereby making them question her own rebellion from it and whether she is truly worthy to be amongst them. The second is to refuse, which would only make them talk even more, and cast that worthiness into a lower light, which will be all the harder to climb out of.
Vivian grits her teeth at the little smile on Adrian's face. He knows exactly what he's doing and he's enjoying it.
"People are expecting us to dance," Adrian tells her, as if thinking it might help her decision.
It doesn't, but she reckons that he's right regardless. People likely are expecting it – hoping for it, even. It would be something worth gossiping over. The lost pureblood heiress and her preeminent ex-betrothed who can do no wrong. She can already predict the headlines that might show up in the tabloids after tonight, speculating whether their shaky betrothal is about to be renewed, or if Vivian had thrown herself at Adrian in hopes of returning to her previously respectful position. Merlin, it makes her sick just to think about, but the other potential headlines aren't much better – the ones that might be published should she refuse. The ones that speculate whether she has well and truly rejected her previous associates after all.
She can't allow any of those articles to be written, no matter how true they are. It would only make things harder for her. Despite her desire to tell Adrian to sod off and to let the reporters have a field day with sketching her in whatever deplorable manner they wish, Vivian knows better. She came here tonight to show her allegiance to their dark cause, to reform old contacts, and to reenter pureblood society so as to become more helpful to the Order. If she refuses Adrian and allows her name to be dragged through the dirt, she won't step foot into the next gala they host. No one would risk a social faux-pas by inviting an embarrassment to pureblood respectability.
Bastard, her mind whispers again as she reaches out to take Adrian's hand.
His mouth quirks up as if he can see the insult in the hard press of Vivian's eyes, but he says nothing as he pulls her away from Regulus and onto the floor.
"A smart decision," he murmurs to her as he pulls her into his arms, resting one hand on her upper back. She lays hers upon his shoulder, maintaining some distance between them as their hands slip together and the orchestra begins its next set.
Vivian sneers at him. Unfortunately, this only makes him smile wider.
"You're playing with me," Vivian accuses under her breath, wanting to get to the bottom of it. As they begin to sway into the familiar movements of the four-step dance, which had been hammered into them both as children, she wonders, "Why?"
Adrian sniffs a bit, moving them across the floor as the dance dictates. He responds, "It wouldn't be any fun if I told you."
She supposes she's not surprised with his circular response. He only chuckles, his broad shoulders shaking just so, and drawls, "But if you need an answer, Vivian, let's call it retribution for making me the laughing stock of our peers last year."
She has a feeling that this isn't the entire reason for his little game, but neither can she deny that it is likely a good incentive to keep playing it, if nothing else. She wouldn't say that she had underestimated Adrian before, but as she looks into his glinting eyes and sees the faint trace of malice breathing beneath them, she's grudgingly admits that she hasn't given him the credit he deserves. Adrian is a Slytherin through and through. He exemplifies some of the darker aspects of her house, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have the potential to be just as calculating and strategic as their peers. She isn't certain of what he's up to, exactly, but she does know for a fact that he's not dancing with her because he wants to be close to her. He has some other motive. Some other purpose.
This only hits home all the more when Adrian suddenly breaks free from the dictated movements of the dance to suddenly spin her around. Vivian isn't expecting it – there are no such steps in this waltz, after all – but neither can she wrangle herself out of his grasp when he's holding her so tightly and when so many eyes are upon them.
He's smiling smugly when he pulls her back in, dragging her much closer this time. She stumbles a bit, the movement too sudden to maintain the grace she has been striving for, and almost slams right into his chest. It is only his own movements that make the action appear gentler than it actually is. He shuffles back a bit to catch her, his arms coming up to encircle her waist. To everyone else, it looks as though she has floated her way into them; some illusive finale of a dance that is only drawing more whispers from those around them as they eye the pair. Adrian's little move isn't helping matters any, especially when, with a jolt, Vivian realizes that his face is only inches away from hers.
He makes no move to close that distance. In fact, Adrian only smiles down at her, his eyes glinting, his expression smug. When he sees the affronted look blazing through her eyes, he arrogantly breathes, "Like I said, Vivian, it's just a dance."
She could slap him. She wants to. It's so much more than just a dance, even more than what she had been expecting before entering into it. All of the sudden, it's an expression of something new and unwanted rising up between them, as if Adrian means to make everyone else in the room aware, somehow, that Vivian's previous rejection of him is not to be taken seriously. From the corner of her eye, she can see the lights of cameras going off. There's no escaping this now.
Voice brimming with quiet anger, Vivian demands, "What are you doing?"
Adrian chuckles again, and murmurs back, "Just a little damage control, Vivian. I'm using you to fix my reputation. It's only fair."
She knows, innately, that there's more to it than that, but Vivian can't bear to stick around for long enough to hear it, and she's under no illusion that Adrian would be willing to spill the rest of his secrets with her anyhow. She wrangles herself out of his arms, stepping back and lifting her chin. Her tone is icy when she says, "Well then, I'm sure I'll have great fun rejecting you again. This time, let's make it even more public, shall we?"
His responding smile makes her falter for half a second, but she doesn't show it.
"How about we save the rejection for later?" he lightly wonders, looking completely unconcerned with the notion. He slips his hands into the pockets of his dress slacks and nods his head over to a door on the side of the room. With another smug expression, he suggests, "Let's go attend to our guest, first."
The ice in Vivian's voice drops to her stomach, for two reasons. Not only does Adrian wish to publicly disappear with her, which will naturally only make everyone gossip all the more, but there's also the little fact that it's apparently time to fulfill her other purpose tonight. She can only presume that their guest is a muggle that Adrian had brought in to test the spell on. She doubts he would bother with a supposedly lesser soul, considering what's at stake.
"I – need to find Regulus," Vivian says, spinning around to try and locate her lost ally. He had been standing off to the side for much of the dance, but when she turns to look at where she had last seen him, he's gone. A few moments are spent frantically searching for him, until she sees his familiar form caught up in conversation with his father, Orion Black. Her heart drops when Regulus catches her eye from across the room. His expression is strained and hopeless, as if he's silently conveying that it won't be easy to break away from his father.
Adrian chuckles and says, "Looks like he's indisposed. Shame. He can catch up with us once he's free."
Vivian spins around to spear him with a hard look. The knowing tone in his voice is apparent. He had planned this.
With a stubborn set of her jaw, Vivian crosses her arms and nearly growls, "I'll wait for him. I'm not going anywhere with you alone."
He sighs at her as if he thinks she's being silly and responds, "You're so dramatic, Blair. If I wanted to ravish you in the shadows, I would've done it already." His eyes turn sharper as he snidely adds, "You've been tainted anyway. For all I know, you've let that blood traitor touch you."
A blistering anger sweeps through her at that, but Vivian clamps back whatever defensive words she wishes to let loose in Sirius's honor. Adrian just watches her internal struggle for a moment before snorting out a derisive laugh and taking her arm.
"Come on. I don't have all night, and as much as I enjoyed our little dance, your company isn't that engaging to me," Adrian tells her disparagingly.
Vivian can't possibly help herself from sneering back, "Well, I'm glad to hear that, at least."
She looks back once more at where Regulus is standing as Adrian pulls her away, but he only clenches his jaw and stares forlornly after her, his father's hand locked upon his arm as he pulls Regulus towards Abraxas Malfoy.
This is decidedly not how her evening had meant to turn out. She swallows down a thick wave of dread, and allows Adrian to pull her through the door, her fate decided.