Hogwarts was certainly taking some getting used to. Not only was the place ginormous, but the moving staircases, disappearing doors, and paintings whose subjects could go in and out of the confines of their painting at will all made getting her barings of the place difficult to say the least.

She also had to get used to scheduled classes, as opposed to the randomly timed mentor sessions, indiscriminate bouts of wisdom the elders would dole out during their more generous moods, and the offhand lessons the kids gave each other on a new spell or potion they'd picked up. The way lessons were planned for an entire year seemed odd to her. How did the school decide when a student needed any particular knowledge? How did they decide that a 4th year needed to know a severing charm but a 5th year needed to know a silencing charm? It all seemed very arbitrary to Vivian.

Seeing as her transferred credits from her "old school" were shoddy at best (and were proving difficult to locate and verify as Professor McGonagall had told her when she handed Vivian her timetable at breakfast the first morning of classes), Vivian had a full schedule, much to her dismay, and more than a few classes she was nervous about.

Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, and Care of Magical Creatures were all subjects Vivian could practice in her sleep, knew like the back of her hand. Practical subjects. Yes/no answer subjects. She was skilled enough at Transfiguration and Charms had never given her much difficulty in practice, but while Fred and George were giving her the rundown of Hogwarts' resident professors as they looked over her class schedule, they made a point to mention the excessive amount of essays that Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had assigned their respective classes last year in a way that did not fill her with optimism.

"Minnie loves a good essay," George had said to her as she walked with the twins to their shared Transfiguration class after breakfast that morning, "On the first day last year, she assigned us to three feet of parchment on the ethical ramifications of turning an inanimate object into an animate one. I spent hours on it and I still don't know exactly what I was talking about" he laughed, remembering the near incohesive essay he had turned in that earned him a Poor grade.

"That was nothing compared to Flitwick's four feet essay on the differences in spells resulting from casters with various accents," chimed in Fred, who did not mention that it was one of the many essays he decided not to do that year.

This had Vivian more than a little worried. She could cast a spell. She could brew a potion. Hell, she could turn a Mandrake into Fire Crab and tell you exactly how to harvest its shell.

What she could NOT do is explain why you had to move your hand in a U motion for that spell. Or why three drops of peppermint oil achieved the desired effect in a Calming Draught but four drops would send the ingester into uncontrollable sobbing.

She had, of course, learned these crucial distinctions as any witch worth her salt would. Either the hard way herself, through trial and error or because one of her mentors had told her, having themselves come to the conclusion by trial and error or the teachings of their own mentors. She wasn't sure if she could put pen to paper and put words to the facts that were second nature to her now and that she only knew instinctively.

Much to Vivian's relief, she was only assigned one paper the first week of classes- a one foot parchment assignment from the History of Magic Professor Binns on any magical historical event of our choosing. According to Binns, he used this essay to get to know his students every year (Vivian had to fight off an eye roll at this, not seeing how something that she'd been wholly uninvolved with would tell this man anything about her).

McGonagall had foregone the essay assignment, choosing to have the class focus on transfiguring the teacups in front of them into mice and back again, a task Vivian enthusiastically jumped into when Fred began bragging about his natural talent in the subject (Vivian was never one to back down from a little friendly competition).

As she got into the routine of her new classes, she found Astronomy to be a slightly lackluster subject, though she did enjoy the peaceful quiet of the Astronomy Tower during the 5th year's evening class as the students focused their attentions to the stars.

Similarly, while she had been excited and intrigued when she signed up for the elective, Divination was proving to be a class Vivian could find little enthusiasm for. Professor Trelawney was an eccentric woman that Vivian was positive had taken one too many hits of…something before devoting her life to the study of Divination. Vivian had been under the impression that there was an actual sort of magic behind Divination, but she was disappointed to learn that the entire practice seemed to rely on conflicting opinions from various scholars and sources who all seemed to insist that they alone were the foremost expert on the subject. Furthering her disappointment in the craft, it seemed that even the Hogwarts professor's own predictions were hit or miss at best. Vivian lost the little faith she had left in the woman when during their second lesson, Trelawney had gone out of her way to tell an unsuspecting Ravenclaw girl in her class that she would marry an extremely rich and handsome man, who would father her three children. Vivian couldn't help but laugh as the girl looked over in confusion to her girlfriend who was glaring at the professor for this "prediction".

Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures was truly her mid-week saving grace. Though not overly exciting, both classes brought her the kind of flat joy that doing a repetitive, mindless task had always brought her. Vivian didn't even mind the hundreds of tiny cuts and bites she seemed to always leave both classes with. She relished in the knowledge that the teaching style of both professors Hagrid and Sprout seemed to be identical to that of her mentors back home - learn by doing and by watching - which made both classes a breeze for her.

DADA held her attention easily, Vivian going out of her way to get to class early so she could get a good view of Lupin's lessons. She was no stranger to the Dark Arts, defending against or otherwise, but based on the nervous reaction of her fellow students to certain topics in the course, it had been quickly apparent to Vivian that the wizards in Hogwarts (and maybe everywhere else, as far as Vivian knew) were taught to fear the Dark Arts in a way that the American wizards never were.

Not to say that Americans were encouraging their children to cast killing curses or brew poisonous potions left and right, but they did have a healthy respect for the darker side of the craft that seemed to be somewhat lacking in the European mindset. European wizards seemed to want to put as much distance as possible between themselves and anything dark. To Vivian, it seemed they were worried that so much as mentioning the topic would bring misfortune to them. To her, this made about as much sense as promoting abstinence to fight teen pregnancy did. As Vivian saw it, because there will always be people who practice the Dark Arts, it made much more sense for witches and wizards to prepare their children, and make sure they're knowledgeable so they know what to do when and if the time comes. Beyond just being able to defend themselves, she felt it would make more sense for a wizard to truly understand the magic they're facing rather than going into it blind or with a limited understanding.

She tried to bring this up with the twins as the trio left the class after a particularly tense discussion about poisonous potions, where Vivian noticed a handful of students looking more than a little uncomfortable with the topic alone.

"I just think it's leaving a major hole in your education," she was saying to the twins as they made their way to the Great Hall for lunch. "Defense is only a fraction of the situations a wizard could find themselves in where they'd need to know this stuff".

"Like what?" asked George, who had been giving her an amused look since she started her rant in the classroom.

"Uhhh…OH like if you're given a cursed object - how are you going to "defend" yourself if you don't even understand how the curse works or how it was placed on the object in the first place?" she replied in an all knowing voice. "Look, all I'm saying is this school clearly wants its students to be well rounded wizards. How can we be well rounded if we're only being taught half the information?" she added, seeing the twins still looking unconvinced

"So you were all taught the Dark Arts at your old school?" George asked her suddenly as they joined Alicia, Lee, and Angelina, who seemed to be having an intense discussion about the Slytherin quidditch team that quickly captured Fred's attention as well.

Vivian groaned internally at this. She should have seen this question coming from him. He had jumped on every opportunity to ask her detailed questions about herself since they met. She tried giving him as little info as possible, sticking with short answers that didn't leave much room for follow up questions. She had wanted to put as much distance between herself and her past as possible, hoping that he would take the hint that she wasn't interested in a trip down memory lane. But no matter how many times she stonewalled him, he seemed completely undeterred, latching onto any opportunity to try to force her to discuss herself.

She found the whole thing confusing. No guy had ever shown interest in her like this before. She'd gotten plenty of male attention in her life, but every boy she knew before coming to Hogwarts had grown up with her, known her her entire life. They knew everything about her like she knew everything about them. Never had a boy shown this much interest in getting to know her. George Weasley's interest in her was uncharted territory, one that she didn't know how to navigate at all.

And if she thought about it, she was being kind of weird - a transfer student, with minimal details to back up her story, refusing to answer questions about herself. Could she really blame the guy for being curious about her? Definitely not when she was running her mouth about the pros of being taught the Dark Arts of all things.

But, she wasn't sure how to answer George's question. She had been taught dark magic in the same way a child is "taught" swear words. There was no real education on this topic, not even sessions with a mentor. Everyone she grew up with had gathered their knowledge on the dark arts through a combination of being secretly taught by older kids in the family, eavesdropping on the elders, and reading books they were far too young for. Did that really count as "being taught" the Dark Arts or was that just learning? She wasn't sure if there was a difference.

"Viv?" asked George gently, after she had been quiet for a long moment.

"Something like that," Vivian replied hastily, ignoring the question in his eyes at her nonanswer and turning her attention to the sandwich on her plate.

She could see him continue to stare at her out of the corner of her eye as she pretended to be very interested in the quidditch conversation. Still avoiding his eyes, she slowly took a drink and carefully replaced the cup on the table. After folding and refolding the napkin in her lap three times, she finally sighed and looked up to meet his eyes. The guy was persistent, she had to give him that much.

She raised her eyebrows at him in response to his unwavering stare, ignoring the nervous feeling his eyes always seemed to incite in her.

"I'm just curious is all," George said finally with a grin, "you intrigue me."

"Intrigue you?"

"Yes," he nodded at her in a mock solemn voice that made her smile "It's 5th year, I'm expecting no surprises, and all of a sudden you show up, a transfer from a mysterious, unknown, American school with alleged knowledge of the dark arts and oddly advanced skill in wandless magic? Vivian, you are perhaps the most intriguing thing in my life at the moment."

Vivian stared at him, her mouth hanging open. She didn't know what to make of this proclamation. If it had been anyone else, she would have assumed they were joking, but George was looking at her so seriously, as if he genuinely wanted to know everything about her… It flustered her.

She cleared her throat quickly and looked away from George's piercing gaze as she felt a blush creep onto her cheeks

"Well I'm an open book" she finally replied to him weakly, in a tone that even she couldn't find convincing. Before he could respond to this, she was jumping up and grabbing her bag.

"IjustrememberedIleftmypotionstextbookinthecommonroom" she lied all in one breath. "I'll just see you in class," she managed in what she hoped was a semi-normal voice before she all but ran from the Great Hall, the rest of the group watching her leave in confusion.

Rounding the corner, Vivian felt her heart rate begin to return to normal.

"Well that was embarrassing," she murmured out loud. She couldn't help but cringe at her desperate and painfully obvious attempt to avoid that conversation with George.

Wandering through the halls, Vivian sighed. She still had over 40 minutes until potions started. She made her way into the dungeons, absentmindedly looking into the empty classrooms she passed. She couldn't help wondering why Hogwarts needed so many classrooms when the vast majority of them seemed to be abandoned. She passed Snape's classroom, huffing in annoyance to find it still locked.

Sighing with an eye roll, she continued her walk down the dungeon hallway, stopping only when her eyes landed on a classroom that was completely empty, aside from one arching stained glass window against the back wall of the room. Pausing her stroll to look into the classroom, she realized that the window seemed to be sparkling, as if in sunlight, despite the room being underground and dark. She looked around and, seeing no one in sight, she took a step into the classroom and quietly closed the door behind her.

"Lumos" she whispered quietly with a wave of her hand, noticing the candles mounted on the wall, framing the window.

Stepping back, Vivian took in the stained glass window in its entirety. It wasn't an overly complex design. Purple glass, framing a golden symbol, which Vivian now gazed at with her brow furrowed. She was sure she had seen something like this before but the memory of where she had seen it was escaping her. She sighed, frustrated.

She wished she could talk to her father. A man obsessed with ancient languages and codes, if he hadn't already known the symbol, he would have known immediately where in his vast catalog of knowledge the answer could be found. He would have had this cracked in minutes. She smiled at the memory, before gasping loudly.

"The ancient Egypt book!" she exclaimed out loud. Of course that's what this symbol is. Nebu. The Egyptian symbol for gold. And, as some believe, treasure. As she considered this, her eyes were caught by a streak of purple light shining, somehow, through the sunless window. As Vivian watched the light seemed to strobe gradually over to the opposite wall, until it settled in one spot, directly opposite the Nebu symbol.

Curious, she walked over to the wall running her hand lightly on the brick that seemed to be the focus of the light's flashing. She had barely grazed it, when the brick began receding into the wall, and the floor under her began to quake. She turned back to the window to see that the floor beneath had sunk down revealing a small dark staircase.

She only hesitated a moment, looking back at Nebu just once before descending the steps, only slightly worried when they rose back up behind her, returning the room above to its previous state.

0-0

George was standing in the doorway to the potions classroom, two minutes before the class was supposed to begin. He could feel Snape's eyes glaring into the back of his head, but he kept his eyes focused on the hall opposite the dungeons, willing Vivian to turn around the corner already.

He had scared her with his questions, he was sure. Not like he could bloody well help it. She was clearly keen on keeping him at arm's length, giving him the minimum amount of detail required to still be considered an answer anytime he'd asked her a question, laughing oh-so sweetly at his frustration with her aloofness.

This time was different though. This time he had clearly stumbled upon a topic she really didn't want to talk to him about. Literally fleeing the room to escape the conversation. And as a man who prided himself on being in the know of everyone and everything at Hogwarts, it was driving him absolutely mad. She was a mystery he was going to crack, or so help him god.

Now, with just over one minute left before class officially started, Vivian hadn't returned to the potions room after "getting her book", George rolling his eyes, remembering her obvious lie to get away from him. He was just starting to grapple with the idea that she had skipped class to avoid him when he heard running footsteps down the hall, coming from the opposite direction he was expecting. Her blue eyes were wild and frantic as she rushed past him into her seat as Snape rose from behind his desk.

"Mr. Weasley, if you're very ready, I would like to begin the lesson," Snape sneered at George, who still stood in the doorway looking at Vivian in confusion.

"Right, yes well if you insist," George grinned back and bowed to the potions master as he made his way to the seat next to Vivian who appeared to still be catching her breath.

Snape glared in response to this but did not comment further, beginning the lesson.

"Today you will be brewing a memory potion as detailed in the reading you should have done for today's class. The ingredients you will need are at my desk. Please retrieve your materials and begin."

George grabbed their ingredients returning to the duo's table as Vivian was pulling her honey blonde hair back into a high bun. Eyeing her as he set down the ingredients, he tried to come up with a way to apologize for scaring her away earlier.

"So…" he began hesitantly.

"I'm pretty confident about this one," she said, turning to him with an easy going smile that surprised him, seeing how awkward she had been the last time they spoke. "I've heard that as long as we don't overdo it on the powdered sage, it's a relatively easy potion".

"Oh perfect, so you'll be brewing the potion for us then?" he asked, leaning back in his chair, smiling when she laughed in return before lighting the fire underneath their cauldron. He began to slice the mandrake root as she ground the sage. They worked in a comfortable silence for the next several minutes as the heat from the cauldrons began warming the room and the air was full of smoke.

"Vivian?"

"Hmm"

"What were you doing coming from the dungeons?" George asked, looking at her now. He had been trying to come up with a reason for her to be there, one that made sense and would also explain why she was almost late to potions, a subject she'd gleefully told George she loved once they'd discovered they'd be in the class together.

He might have believed she'd gotten lost given how new to the school she still was, but he had personally taken her on a grand tour of Hogwarts that first day, including showing her her classes. He knew she knew where the potions room was. He also knew that she was always either on time or early to all of her classes.

And the fact that she hadn't given some story, some explanation right away bugged the hell out of him. Most of the girls he knew would've jumped on the opportunity to be the center of his or his twin's attention. Not that he was cocky, they had just never had much trouble getting girls to talk to them. A smile, well timed joke, and a wink is all it took with a lot of them and he wasn't above bragging about the fact that there were a lot of them. More than Fred got, though he'd never say so to the poor bloke.

Not that George had never had to chase. Never able to back down from a challenge, there was something about winning over a girl who had initially dismissed him that filled him with a giddy thrill. So it's no wonder that Vivian's mild indifference to him and her hesitation was driving him insane.

She didn't answer right away, focused on measuring the exact right amount of powdered sage onto the scale. He watched her work in silence, wondering what about her drew him in so strongly. He wasn't sure if it was her mystery, her strange secrecy, or something more. Like the way her eyes twinkled at him when he made her laugh. Or how when she smiled, the dimple on her right cheek sat deeper than the one on her left in a way that made his chest burn. Or–

"Just killing time before class started," she said finally, interrupting his increasingly sappy inner monologue. "I didn't realize how late it had gotten. Before I knew it class was about to start and I was WAY too far away" she laughed, staring at him with her eyes wide like they were when she ran into the classroom but with a wide grin now on her face.

George considered this for a moment as he looked into her eyes. He had no reason to suspect she was lying - and really what could she have been doing in the dungeons of all places that she would feel the need to lie about - but something was stopping him from fully believing her. Something in her eyes or in her voice or maybe it was his years as a well seasoned rapscallion that was setting off alarm bells in George's mind.

As he continued to stare at her her smile faltered, and George considered telling her he didn't believe her. But, not wanting to push her any further than he had that day and fearing she would go running from him again, he simply nodded and returned to the mandrakes, seeing her shoulders sag with relief in the corner of his eye once he had taken his gaze off her. Mystery upon mystery, she is he thought to himself.