Vivicendium ➝ Sirius Black/OC

Primogenitus

Chapter Forty One | Primogenitus

[The firstborn son]

"I'm a bit disappointed, Vivian," is the first thing that comes out of Gavin Clark's mouth when he sidles up beside her later that day.

The reason for his appearance is, of course, the prefect meeting that Vivian has grudgingly dragged herself to, despite her desire to skip it entirely. After dinner, she has to report to Filch's office for the first of many detentions, and she's not very pleased with the fact that her free time has been commandeered to such an extent. She hasn't gotten any further in figuring out what to do with the task set aside for her by the Dark Lord, and every second of her time is important.

Vivian, who has been in a foul mood all day, grouses, "I literally don't give a fuck, Clarke."

And Gavin, who's ears are too innocent for such language, purses his mouth at her and grouses back, "You don't have to be so rude."

She sighs, crosses her arms, and glowers around the room, which is slowly filling up with other prefects. The Head Boy has yet to show his face (she hopes he trips on the staircase and ends up falling on his arse, the prat), but the Head Girl is already standing at attention by one of the desks, preparing a stack of papers as she waits for everyone to arrive.

"I'm not in a good mood," she mutters, eyes flashing as she recalls the month of detentions lined up for her, courtesy of Sirius fucking Black.

"Yes, I noticed," Gavin says, crossing his arms too as he casts her a sidelong glance. "I highly doubt that you'd agree to take part in one of Black's schemes, so why haven't you taken this up with your Head of House? I'm sure Slughorn would make Filch revoke your punishment."

Vivian's immediate response is a frustrated, "I already talked to Slughorn about it. He told me that he'd speak to Filch, but I doubt that's going to happen. I think he's afraid of that useless squib."

Gavin purses his mouth again. "Language, Vivian."

She promptly turns her glower on him and grouses, "I'm too annoyed to be polite, Clarke. If you don't have anything worthwhile to say, I'm really not in the mood."

He huffs at her, but doesn't argue and instead just returns, "Maybe you should take this up with Dumbledore, then. He'd sort everything out."

Mention of Dumbledore makes Vivian grumble to herself. As if she would ever go to that second-rate wizard for help! He may be the Headmaster, but Vivian would rather go groveling to Filch himself than to ask Dumbledore for assistance. Of course, her current disposition may have something to do with Sirius's offer of help one week prior, but she's too stubborn to admit that. Her pride would surely take a hit if she were to go to him, and so she just remains silent and doesn't respond to Gavin at all, preferring to cross her arms more tightly and frown more deeply.

Gavin, who has become accustomed to her stubbornness by now, sighs.

"I really don't understand you sometimes, Vivian," he tells her.

"I don't think anyone does, Clarke," someone else responds, and Vivian frowns even more angrily.

"Shove off, Potter," she immediately scorns, redirecting her glower to a more deserving target.

James doesn't seem overly concerned with being said target, and just smiles pleasantly at her. He slings an arm over her shoulder as if they're the best of friends and proclaims, "Since I'm looking to name you an Honorary Marauder, Blair, I'll take your tone with a grain of salt."