Regimentum ⪼ Sirius Black/OC

De fumo in flammam

Chapter Seventeen | De fumo in flammam

[Out of the smoke and into the fire]

The very moment Vivian arrives at Lawrence Court Theatre, she understands why Dumbledore had chosen it as the location to enact their plan. It is a run-down building that seems to be undergoing repairs. Scaffolding runs up one of the outer walls, and within the foyer, the floorboards are in the process of being replaced, for half the room is all but ripped up. A pile of splintered wood has been left in one corner. The rest of the floor, though intact, is a bit dangerous to walk upon. It's clear that someone had recently taken a hammer to it in their effort to rip the planks out, for there are several deep gashes in the wood and quite a few loose boards that creak ominously when weight is applied to them.

This general state of collapse makes the place as ideal a spot as any in the heart of muggle London. Should any spells go awry, which they most certainly will, no one will think twice about whatever remnants might be left in their wake. These physical signs will surely be put down as simply a part of the reconstruction, which extends not only to the foyer but to the rest of the theatre as well. The place is absolutely abandoned at this hour, with no late-night shows or frenzied actors staying late, no idle custodians tidying up or after-parties being had by cast and crew beyond the stage. In summary, the theatre is as silent as a grave.

"Well...this is a bit unnerving," Sirius mutters to her as they head into the main room. They have to step over several of those gashes in the floor to do so. The sight of the foyer is like something out of a nightmare, and he half expects a cloaked figure to jump out at them from behind that pile of wooden splinters any moment now.

Vivian makes a sound of agreement but doesn't verbally respond. Unnerving is a good word for it. Her heart is beating a little faster than normal as she walks towards the main doors that will lead into the theatre, her nerves buzzes along her veins like a constant drizzle of rain. She's trying her best not to make her wariness apparent, though. She's got to keep all her wits about her tonight, but she doubts it will be easy. The thought that they are about to be trapped in this theatre by Voldemort's followers – many of whom she happens to know quite well – is enough to put her very much on edge despite the whole thing being of their own volition.

As like any other Order meeting, people are already gathered within the main room of the theatre when Vivian and Sirius push open the doors and head inside. The rest of the place is just as dilapidated as the foyer. Vivian raises an eyebrow as she scans the holes in the ground where the seats were once attached. Another unnerving shiver traces up her spine at the chasm before her. The only thing left intact is the stage itself, which rises up on the other side of the room and demands the attention of everyone present. Of course, this might be due to the fact that Dumbledore is currently standing on it, but she digresses.

Besides Dumbledore, the only others who have arrived are Sturgis Podmore, the Prewett twins, Remus, and Peter. Sirius and Vivian stand in the shadows of the door, apprehensively peering at the strange sight before them. He glances at her quickly before tilting his head in a silent gesture that they should join the others. After a moment, Vivian agrees, and they carefully make their way down the center aisle to where the Prewett twins are standing just off to the side.

"Evening, Sirius. Vivian," Fabian greets, nodding at them both as he crosses his arms over his chest. Gideon, who is standing slightly behind his twin, peers around his shoulder to add, "Looks like we've got a few no-shows."

Moody, who is standing closer to Dumbledore with his wand drawn, looking quite tense and fidgety, grumbles, "There's still time."

He's right. It's a quarter to one, which means that there could be several other members joining them before their allotted meeting time. Vivian glances at the faces around her and mutters, "Potter's late."