Chapter 17

Dear Canmore–

Vivian sighed, crumpling up the piece of parchment she had barely begun to use and tossing it into the garbage bin next to the owlery writing desk she was currently sitting at, growing increasingly frustrated with her inability to even begin her response to the man.

Really it shouldn't have been this hard to write one single letter to someone she's known her entire life. She had literally lost her virginity in the man's house to his son for god's sake. She should have been fully capable of drafting one stupid letter without overthinking every single word she wrote.

But, as she was quickly coming to learn, nothing in her life could ever be easy. The first hurdle stood in her way as soon as she sat down to respond to his letter, parchment ready, quill in hand when she suddenly realized she had no idea what to call him anymore. High Elder Canmore seemed a bit too formal now that she had essentially removed herself from his circle of influence but Evander or even just Canmore was far too friendly considering the relationship she had with him, or lack thereof.

Another blank piece of parchment in front of her, and she was beginning to reconsider the idea of writing him back altogether. Really what did she need to know from him anyway?

Groaning again, she dipped her quill in the ink, knowing herself well enough to realize that not knowing would drive her crazier than any unpleasant information ever could.

Hello,

I appreciate you checking in.

I did receive a letter from Evan but I intend to stay at Hogwarts for the time being. I trust the school to keep me and the rest of its students safe.

She could have, and perhaps should have ended the letter right there, but her curiosity outweighed her hesitation in that moment, pressing her to continue.

I am not close with my Headmaster, but I was surprised to hear from your letter that you knew him. I was equally surprised by your insinuation that he wouldn't want me to know that you knew him. Why is that? Or is that part of the information I'd be very interested in hearing?

I'm not sure what you hope to gain from us writing to each other but I can't stop you from responding to me if you wanted to.

-Vivian Mento

Vivian dropped her quill on the table, blowing gently on paper to dry the ink faster as she reread her words. The response, simple as it was, had been incredibly difficult for her to come up with, second guessing every word she wrote, wondering if the tone was coming off the right way or if the man would be offended by her direct line of questioning.

She had opted to jump straight into the meat of the letter, forgoing any pleasantries or attempts at small talk before getting to the questions she had for him. She knew that the man wasn't stupid. He would be well aware that any response he received from her would have been sent purely due to her taking the bait of information rather than any actual interest in his life.

Before she could change her mind, she had quickly folded the letter up and tied it to the leg of one of the school's owls, feeling her heart slam in her chest as she watched the bird fly off into the distance.

Truthfully, she was terrified. She had no idea if what she had just done was a colossal mistake. The horrible feeling she had when she first received Canmore's letter had not gone away, forming a ten pound weight in her stomach every time she even thought about the letter, folded and tucked away into her bedside drawer. The rational part of her mind repeated to her like a mantra: don't trust him don't trust him don't trust him.

But with everything she had, she simply could not stop herself from responding. The thin promise of getting answers as to what happened to her parents was too enticing to pass up. Maybe they were famous last words, but she had to know for sure.

Her pulse was still racing as she joined her friends at the Gryffindor table for dinner, sliding into her usual seat beside George, hoping that her panic wasn't as visible on her face as she thought it was.

"Where have you been?" George asked, smiling at her affectionately. "You almost missed lasagna night."

"Had to write a letter," she replied as she scooped a slice onto her plate.

"You mean to-"

"Yeah," she answered quickly, before he could get the sentence fully out. Though she had let George in on this one, she still would prefer to keep the Canmore matter as much of a secret as was possible. The less questions she had to answer, the better. Her boyfriend's curiosity alone was almost more than she could handle. "What are we all talking about?" she asked louder, hoping to gain the attention of the rest of the group.

"Whether or not hitting Malfoy with seventy-five dungbombs would be enough to kill him," Fred answered, prompting a mixed reaction from the rest of the Gryffindors.

"Oh. Are we trying to kill him or…?" Vivian laughed between a mouthful of lasagna.

"No, we're not," Alicia spoke up, ignoring the grumbles the boys gave in response.

"We should be!" Harry butted in angrily, glaring across the hall towards the Slytherin table. "He's the reason Buckbeak is going to be executed!"

"Eye for an eye is always fair in my family," she responded, ignoring Alicia's death glare to grin at Ron and Harry's enthusiastic nodding.

"Don't encourage this!" Alicia yelled, exasperation evident in her voice. "They're going to get themselves expelled or worse."

"Oh come on, Alicia. Even you have to admit the git has it coming," Fred said, rolling his eyes at her.

"You know he's going to go running to his father the second it happens and who knows what his father will do?" Alicia insisted. "Antagonizing the Malfoys is only going to make things worse. Who's to say they don't go after Hagrid or even Dumbledore next? Lucius Malfoy has more control than I think we even know."

"But if no one ever does anything about it doesn't that basically give them the green light to tighten that control?" Vivian asked, thoughtfully swirling her pumpkin juice around in her glass.

"See! This is a necessary action," George agreed despite the daggers Alicia was shooting them all.

"Fine then," Alicia muttered, crossing her arms over her chest as she sent a disapproving look around the table. "Get yourselves expelled. Make an enemy out of the Malfoys. But I'm not helping."

"It'll be fine, Alicia don't worry," Fred tried, in his most placating voice, earning only an irritated huff and an eye roll from her in response.

"Soooooo what's the plan?" Vivian asked slowly, now that the argument stage of the scheme seemed to be tentatively over.

"We're trying to figure out a way into Malfoy's dorm to plant the bombs but it's impossible to get into their common room. We have no idea what their password is because Slytherin's are all rotten secret keeping bastards," Fred said, exchanging a look of frustration with his twin.

"I know what the password is," Vivian offhandedly stated as she tried to decide between cherry and apple pie for dessert that night.

"What?" all Gryffindor heads in earshot swung around to look at the blonde, who was startled from her dessert centered thoughts by their unexpected reaction.

"How did you, of all people, get Slytherin's password?" Lee demanded, looking at her like she had just informed them she was the next in line to be the pope.

"My friend Rena invited me to a party last week. She gave me the password so I could get in," she shrugged.

"You didn't mention it to any of us," Alicia said incredulously.

"Well she didn't invite any of you."

"Traitor!" the twins shouted at her together.

"Oh come on guys," Vivian laughed, rolling her eyes at their' dramatics. "I didn't actually go. Besides you all would have had zero interest even if I had invited you and you know it!"

"She's right," Angelina commented, giggling nervously when the group's glare turned onto her instead. "I mean Fred mere moments ago called all Slytherin's 'rotten secret keeping bastards' did he not?"

"Well they are," Fred grumbled to George. "And it's still nice to be included, Vivian," he added louder.

"Do you want the password or not?"

"Yes, obviously we want the password," Fred snapped as though she were being completely obtuse.

"You should be nicer to me, you know? I'm dating your brother. I could make your life truly insufferable."

"She's got a point there, Freddie," George slung an arm over his girlfriend's shoulder grinning back at Fred's scowl.

"It already is insufferable!" Fred exclaimed, throwing his arms into the air. "Please, Vivian, would you please give us Slytherin's password?"

"Well since you asked so kindly," she replied, a satisfied smirk on her face at the reaction she had managed to get from him. "It's House of Serpents."

"Leave it to the Slytherins to have the most uncreative password imaginable," George laughed. "I mean they really thought up one idea and were done huh?"

"Fantastic," Fred said, ignoring his twin's comment to excitedly hop up from the table. "George I say we get this plot underway tonight, what do you say?"

"I couldn't agree more, Fred," George stood, pulling a reluctant Vivian up with him before he was dragging her out of the Great Hall after his twin.

0-0

Such is the way when one pisses off a Weasley (or friend of a Weasley for that matter) the entirety of Slytherin house had to sleep in the Great Hall for the following two nights while the house elves worked to air out the dorm.

Rena had told Vivian all about the aftermath, having witnessed Malfoy and his cronies puking from the rancid explosion and later being forced to incinerate most of their clothing due to the fabric having taken on the smell of the bombs no matter how many times the house elves washed them. There was even apparently talk about Malfoy and his roommates needing to be permanently relocated, the stench from the sheer amount of dungbombs seemingly now embedded into the walls of the dorm. All of which Vivian happily relayed to the twins who were practically glowing from the pride of a successful prank.

It was of course easy for Vivian to fail to mention to her friend the part she herself had played in the prank. She suspected she would never be invited to another party again if Rena found out she had used the password she had been given to stink up her dormitory.

But luck seemed to be on their side as, shockingly, no one had gotten in trouble for the prank. If the whispers around the school were to be believed, everyone was quite certain that Fred and George were the culprits–a theory they neither confirmed nor denied, but the problem was that no one could actually prove it was them. Somehow, by some miracle, no one could say for certain what time the three of them had left dinner that night, or any of their whereabouts in the moments before or after the incident. It couldn't even be proven that the twins had dungbombs, since they had used the entirety of their supply on Malfoy.

So, for all intents and purposes, it seemed that they had gotten away with it, at least for the time being, despite Alicia's insistence that they were all about to be expelled or shipped off to some remote prison somewhere.

Needless to say, the prank and subsequent who did the prank secret keeping, had taken her mind off the Canmore letter situation entirely. So much so that when she received a letter at breakfast the following week, she had nearly forgotten to be nervous when she opened it, half expecting it to be another letter from Lizette.

Dearest Vivian,

It was such a joy to hear back from you. I must admit, when my son didn't receive a response, I assumed I wouldn't either, but you are full of surprises aren't you?

I was not at all surprised to learn that you will be staying at Hogwarts. As I said in my last letter, you have always possessed the fortitude needed to strike out on your own–maybe even more so than my son. It's always been a disappointment to me that he didn't inherit that same drive that you seem to have. Such a shame that distance has separated the two of you. Perhaps you can both work things out when you return home for the summer?

To answer your question, the story of Albus and mine's comradery is a long, funny one if I do say so myself. Though he was initially hesitant about our way of life, the man is, shall we say, open to new ideas. But I think you should actually ask him about it instead–he tells the story much better than I do. Matter of fact, if you do ask him about it, do tell him I said hello would you? It has been so long since we've had the pleasure of each other's company.

Hope to hear from you soon.

Sincerely,

Evander Canmore II

"'Work things out?' Why would you even want to work things out with a wanker named Evander?"

"George, it's rude to read over someone's shoulder," she scolded, rolling her eyes at the disgruntled ginger beside her. "But yes I agree it's ridiculous."

"He didn't really say much in this one either did he?" George asked.

He did not. Which was beyond aggravating. All the fretting and second guessing she did only for him to redirect her to Dumbledore about some buddy-buddy thing they had years ago that, as far as she could tell, had absolutely nothing to do with her? And of course not one word about anything that could even give her the slightest clue as to the circumstances surrounding her parents' demise.

Frankly, it seemed like the guy was playing games with her, though his motives and end goals were still completely unknown. And the worst part was she felt unable to stop herself from becoming a pawn in whatever game he was playing at. By providing her with only hints of information while knowing she was desperate for answers, he was forcing her hand, figuratively pushing her into the next space on the board. An unwilling pawn who knew without a doubt that she was going to ask Dumbledore about his "Summer in Chicago" or it would drive her crazy.

"I think he likes being mysterious," she said finally as she folded up the letter and filed it away in her bag to overanalyze in further depth later in the privacy of her closed canopy bed.

"Sounds like someone I know," he teased, giving her a lopsided grin when she turned to glare at him.

"You think you're funny, huh?"

"Oh I know I'm funny, love."

"Can you guys stop flirting at the breakfast table? It's putting me off my meal," Fred's incredibly loud voice blurted out suddenly, popping the bubble the two were in.

"You're just jealous that no one is willing to flirt with you," George shot back with a scowl in his twin's direction. Vivian's eyes immediately darted to Angelina who promptly turned about ten shades redder and began looking at anything else in the Great Hall but her. Oh how nice to be on the opposite end of this for once she thought to herself as she grinned slyly at her friend's obvious discomfort, wiggling her eyebrows at her as the group stood to head to their morning classes.

0-0

George swore that Transfiguration was lasting far longer than it normally did. He was absolutely positive that at least forty minutes had gone by, but when he looked at the clock on the wall, it read only fifteen minutes since when he had last looked. He'd even double checked with Lee's watch to make sure the damn clock wasn't somehow broken but no. McGonagall had somehow charmed the minutes to go by slower than usual, there was no other explanation.

Maybe it was the weather, maybe it was the three cups of tea he'd had at breakfast that morning, but he was feeling antsy, bordering on stir crazy. He was confident that if he had to spend even one more hour in a classroom that day, he would explode.

He had gotten the day's transfiguration–turning a ferret into a feather duster–down quickly, which left him with quite a bit of time on his hands to kill or, as he preferred to think of it, time to be distracting. Glancing between his friends, he leaned over to Vivian, who seemed to be having a difficult time getting a legless feather duster.

"You know, I think the goal is to get something that can't run away," he laughed in her ear as she struggled to keep the scurrying duster on the table.

"Oh really? Why didn't you say something earlier? I wouldn't have put so much work into keeping the legs," she snorted, sending him an exasperated look as she threw her hand out to catch the ferret duster that had once again tried to launch itself off the table.

He grinned down at the creature as it switched tactics, now trying to climb up the witch's arms to make its escape.

"Skip your next class with me," he said, in what he hoped was his most charming voice as he held it back down on the table so Vivian could work on removing its legs.

"For what?" she asked, glancing at him while trying to keep her focus on the task in front of her.

"Everything? Nothing? Not wanting to be there? Whatever you want," he shrugged, unconcerned.

She hummed for a minute, as though debating her answer in her mind, but he knew by the tugging at her lips that he would almost definitely be getting a yes.

"Okay," she said finally, giving him a full dimpled smile and fighting a laugh, when he pumped his fist triumphantly in the air. "But I have to go to Charms today. We have a quiz."

"And I will make sure you are there for it," he said, making a mock salute to show her just how serious he was.

By the time class was over, she had managed to turn her ferret into a feather duster for all but one leg, and he was bursting at the seams, all but dragging her out of the classroom the second the bell rang.

"Okay, where are we going," she laughed breathlessly as he nearly ran them through the halls, so anxious to get away from a learning environment that he had momentarily forgotten to slow down to accommodate for her shorter legs.

"The quidditch pitch," he answered, opening the door to escort her outside.

"Won't we get caught out there?" she asked, frowning at him though she made no attempts to change directions.

"Nope, no classes there til after lunch today. Which gives us plenty of time to go for a fly."

"...us?" Vivian asked after a beat, giving him an odd look he couldn't understand.

"Course us," he laughed at her as they approached the pitch and made their way towards the closet containing all the school's brooms. "What did you think, I was gonna make you watch while I flew by myself?"

"Well okay but if you wanted to do that, I would totally understand you know," she gave an awkward chuckle, shyly tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

It took him quite a few moments to catch up but a wide cheshire smile crept onto his face as he started to get an inkling of what was going on in her head.

"Are you scared of heights, love?" he asked, grinning wider when she glared at him, clearly having hit some nerve.

"What? No that's…silly," she said, defiantly crossing her arms as she glared at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of being right. If truth were told, she was maybe just a tiny bit scared of heights. At least it was a rational fear. She frankly couldn't understand the people who weren't afraid of heights.

"You'll ride on my broom with me then. I would never let you fall, darling," he said, grinning madly at the eye roll she gave at his cheesy line while he set himself up on his chosen broom. Cheesy though it was, he was serious. He sooner would have hit the ground himself than let one hair on her head be harmed.

"Shut up," she grumbled halfheartedly as she joined him on the broom, pressing her tense shoulders securely into his chest and only relaxing slightly when he wrapped his arms around her to grab the handle. Before she could protest any further, he had launched them into the air, bringing them far higher than Vivian ever enjoyed being.

"Do you know how to steer?" he was suddenly whispering in her ear, sending goosebumps over her arms that briefly distracted her from the terrifying height.

"Kind of," she laughed nervously, pressing herself harder into George's chest as he started moving them forward.

"Push down to speed up, pull up to slow down. Try it," he murmured to her softly, gently moving her white knuckled hands further down the broom, wrapping his calloused fingers over hers.

Letting out a nervous breath, she did as she was told, hesitantly pressing down on the handle, groaning to herself when they were shot quickly forward.

"See it's easy, you're a natural," she could hear the smile in his voice, as though he were proud of her. She felt her cheeks heat up, grateful for the biting wind that would have undoubtedly already made them red, hiding the blush she always got when he complimented her.

He had them up in the air for nearly an hour, and likely would have kept them there longer had she not gently reminded him about her Charms quiz. Though he pouted about it, he was back to grinning like a madman when she turned to face him after they had safely landed and dismounted, admitting that flying with him had been fun.

"See? You could be on the team next year!" he declared running his hand over her side and wrapping it around her waist as the two walked back to the castle with five minutes to spare before the next hour began.

"I don't know about that but I could maybe see myself flying again in the future. Maybe."

And he would gladly take that maybe, in fact, it was perhaps the most beautiful maybe he had ever received.

He had a smile plastered to his face the entire way to the charms room and it remained there after she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and darted into the classroom moments before the bell rang.

He was sure that he looked like an absolute crazy person for the rest of that day, grinning so widely at seemingly nothing, but he didn't care one bit. He normally felt happier after flying, but this was beyond the usual joy he felt with the wind in his hair. He felt euphoric, like he was still floating in the air and there was no doubt in his mind as to the cause. He had no idea how she managed to have this effect on him, even long after she left his presence but he had become addicted now, counting the minutes until he could see her again.

He had never felt this way before about another person, that was clear. It was too new, too foreign for him to name just yet but one thing had made itself abundantly clear: Vivian had settled herself into his very core. There was no going back for him now. He needed that feeling like he had never needed anything else and there was nothing he wouldn't do to keep it.