D I L E M M A x Mattheo Riddle

wild bear

Vivienne Leclair
"Vivienne, so nice to see you dear." My mother says as she gestures Briar and I inside the house.

Although I've been dreading it for days, Friday night has arrived, and that means dinner with my family. I'm trying to muster up the courage to tell my mum that I'm breaking up with Briar.

Briar and I step inside. He follows my mum to the kitchen, but I go and find my dad in his office.

I knock on the door even though it's glass and I can see through, just to alert him of my presence.

He looks up from his desk and smiles at me, so I open the door and walk in. He has scruffy facial hair and bags under his eyes, evidence of the stress he's been going through due to the Ministry's demanding work.

"Hey kiddo." He pulls me into a warm hug. I can smell the strong mahogany scent radiating off of him and I'm immediately comforted.

"Hey dad," I hug him back and rest my chin on his shoulder. "You alright?" I ask, pulling away and looking at his disheveled state.

"Don't worry about me. I'm fine." He shakes his head, disregarding my question. "How's school been?"

Although I'm curious of his recent whereabouts with the Order, I realize it's best to not talk about it. He already has so much stress to deal with, and asking questions would just make it worse. "It's been alright. Just lots of studying, and plenty of Journalism work." I respond.

His eyes light up and I can see his face has more color and liveliness than it did when I first walked in.

"I've read all of your stories so far this year. They're amazing." I smile a little and brush my hair out of my face. "Especially the one about Muggle fashion, it's fascinating."

"Thank you. I've worked hard." I say.

"It shows." He pats me on the back and walks towards the office door, opening it for me. "Now let's go eat, I'm starving."

I laugh and follow him to the dining room.

At least I know my dad is proud of me. My mother always expects so much from me, I can never tell if it's enough. I don't think it ever is, or ever will be. But that doesn't stop me from trying, even if it's impossible.

I sit down next to my dad. I can't stand to sit next to Briar, but it doesn't look like my mother's noticed, so everything's fine for now.

"So Vivienne, your father and I read your article about Muggle fashion." My mother says, taking a sip of her wine.

"Is it good?" I ask, partly because I'm curious if she liked it, and partly because I'm just trying to make conversation.

"It's better." She smiles.

The familiar ice cold feeling courses through my veins and a shiver runs down my back. She does this every time. She never says I've done good, she just says it's "better". It's her own little way of making sure I know I'm not doing good enough.

I nod my head, "Thanks."

"Why did you have to do a story about Muggles though?" She glares at me.

"Honey-" My dad starts, putting his hand over hers.

"No," She cuts him off, pulling her hand away from his. "Blood purity is so important, Vivienne. You know that. It makes no sense why you would choose to write about filthy Muggles."

My stone cold gaze finds my mother's, and her stern expression remains the same even as I shoot daggers at her through my eyes.

"Muggle culture is interesting to some people, Mum. I knew it would get a lot of reads." I retaliate, trying to keep my composure even as she's attacking me.