Vivicendium ➝ Sirius Black/OC

Ignis Fatuus

Chapter Forty Eight | Ignis Fatuus

[Foolish fire; will-o-the-wisp]

Vivian doesn't get up for breakfast the next morning, and her dormmates aren't entirely sure why.

"Is she sick or something?" Rosalind wonders from across the room, casting a glance at the curtains that are pulled taut around Vivian's bed. There's no sign of life from within, as far as she can tell, which is a bit strange because Vivian doesn't usually sleep in. She's often the first one up.

Narcissa pauses as she's fixing her emerald and black tie, looking into the mirror that she's standing in front of and peering at the drawn curtains as well. She hadn't seen Vivian after the situation with Adrian before dinner yesterday, but it's been a challenge to think about anything else. She has a few questions for her friend. A few suspicions to make clear.

"Only one way to find out," Morrigan shrugs, and strides over to Vivian's bed. A moment later, she's roughly pulling the curtains to the side, no doubt in hope that the sudden movement will freak Vivian out and give her a good laugh. There is one problem with this, which is of course that you can't frighten someone who isn't even there. The bed is empty, the covers messily strewn about the mattress. There is no sign of Vivian's wavy brown hair against the pillow. She isn't there, and hasn't been there for the entire duration of her dormmates' conversation.

Rosalind raises an eyebrow. "Well I guess she's already gone down to breakfast," she reasons, and thinks no further about it.

But Vivian hasn't gone down to breakfast. She's not in the Great Hall when the three of them arrive. She isn't primly stirring cream into her tea or drawling out half-awake insults to the younger students. Narcissa finds it strange, but Morrigan and Rosalind don't question it. It's not as if they care if Vivian misses breakfast, and besides, it's not the first meal she's skipped in the last few weeks. She must simply be in the library, or taking part in some other duty that she hadn't bothered informing them about.

It's only when they're leaving the Great Hall some thirty minutes later that Vivian shows herself, though not quite in the manner that they're expecting. After all, it isn't as if there was an early morning Quidditch practice today, otherwise Morrigan would have gotten up for it lest she risked Avery's wrath. So when the doors of the castle swing open and Vivian strides into the main corridor with windblown hair and her Silver Arrow in hand, the others are rightfully confused. There's a strange, distant look in her eyes that has them all raising eyebrows, especially when she nearly walks right past them without even seeing them.

"Oi!" Morrigan calls, feeling a touch insulted at being so callously ignored.

It's clear, though, when Vivian jumps a bit and turns to face them, that she hadn't meant to ignore them. The distant look in her eyes vanishes slightly, but it's still there even as she changes course and walks towards them. She looks strangely unsure, as if she's a ghost floating around with no real destination.

"Were you at the pitch?" Rosalind questions, rather unnecessarily. She looks somewhat horrified at Vivian's unkempt appearance. Beside the windblown hair and the distant eyes, her friend looks positively ruffled. She's wearing a jumper thrown on over a button-up shirt, whose buttons are out of order, and a pair of black trousers that she must have dug up from the bottom of her trunk, because they're wrinkled. Now Vivian Blair might not be as obsessed with fashion as Rosalind, but she never goes out in public looking so disheveled.

Morrigan raises an eyebrow and peers at the buttons of her shirt. "You weren't snogging someone in the locker rooms, were you?"

Morrigan's mention of snogging sessions certainly draws an unexpected reaction from Vivian, who promptly stiffens and blinks back the hazy look in her eyes. She looks at Morrigan with startled eyes, and blushes.