Skirting the SPOTLIGHT {vivi}

[damien]

Seventh year was supposed to be one of the greatest years of a young wizards life--it was their last year at Hogwarts, where they had all the privelages, were legal wizards, and were so close to being free to the wizarding world to do as they pleased. Any sane seventh year should have been happy to be halfway through the year, halfway closer to their new life. Of course, times were hard now a days, with Regulus running amuck with his Death Eaters, killing muggleborns, halfbloods, and muggles themselves. Being a seventh year, though, meant you could join the Order and fight back. You could take a stand and make a difference. You're the top dog, a role model, an adult.

Damien felt no joy in being a seventh year--all he felt this year, continually increasing, was dread and guilt. He was a spy for the one world that had saved himself and his brother, and now he was attempting to bring it down. He was lying constantly, sneaking around, unable to have any real friends or engage in anything social. It had been bad enough when he was just a spy for the muggles at the beginning of the year, skulking around. Now, though, he found himself in worse trouble than ever before--he was being closely monitered by a girl named Vivianne Flint, who he was pretty sure knew what he was up to.

A few weeks ago, his personal journal to the muggles had been tampered with--a page ripped out, a page that happened to point out his spying job. Damien still didn't know what happened, but the next thing he knew, this Slytherin seventh year was looking at him oddly, trying to talk to him, staring when she thought he wasn't looking. What, he wondered, could be wrong with her? Damien was a halfblood, and should have been no interest to this pureblood, who should have believed that he was merely filth that should stand beneath her (even though he was pretty sure he got better marks than her). After a while of her still trying to talk to him, still acting oddly, still looking at him all the time, a fearful notion had struck him--this girl had gotten the part from his journal. She knew that he was a spy for muggles, telling them the secrets of this magical world.

It had taken a few days for Damien to decide that he would have to send a note to the muggles. He had already written of Flint's strange behavior in the journal assigned to him, but it would be months before he was to send that in, and he knew by then the opperation could be severely jeopardized--and his father would be angry, and his mother and brother would be in danger, not to mention himself. So, he had finally decided upon scrawling out a hurried note that this girl must know something, and then dashed away from his last class--which just happened to contain said Flint girl. He was now walking quickly up the steps that lead to the Owlery, one hand clutching the parchment letter tightly.

As Damien entered the round, stone room, a strong gust of wind tore through the pane-less windows, turning his cheeks a rosey color and messing about his dark hair. He decided to leave it for now--pointless, really, to fix it when the wind would just blow again, and he had more important things to worry about anyways. His dark eyes scanned the many perches, skimming over every type of owl imaginable. Usually, Kent stood out like a sore thumb because of his size, but there was such a diversity of owls that some of them grouped together could easily hide his overly large bird. Damien sighed in frustration, watching as his breath curled in the December air. Outside the owlery, darkness was already starting to fall, the sun sinking below the mountains, and he knew that if he didn't get this letter sent off soon and somebody saw him up here in the dark, there would be suspicions.

Shivering in the chill, Damien shoved his left hand deeper into the pocket of his robe, which he was still wearing, tightening his grip around his wand. He was just about to pull it out and light it, hoping to better his chances in finding his bird, when Kent suddenly flew down from the rafters, scaring Damien so bad that he jumped, shoes slipping on the messy floor. With a loud thud he fell to the ground, cursing quietly under his breath--with a wince he pulled himself up, not wanting to know what all was on his robes now. He couldn't help but to frown at Kent, who was looking at him innocently from his new spot by a window.

"I've got a letter for you, ya bloody bird," Damien said in a low voice, glaring at the animal that had scared him into falling down. However, his gaze changed into a more nervous one as the land around him darkened even faster. He pulled out his left hand and stroked Kent gently on his head, getting a reassuring hoot in return. With trembling fingers, which was not just from the cold, Damien began to roll up his letter into a little scroll. The wind started up again, almost snatching the note from his fumbling fingers, causing his heart to jump all the way into his throat. Thankfully he kept a hold of it, letting out a small sigh of relief.

"This is too much stress, I'm telling you," he muttered to nobody in particular. Damien had just succeeded in rolling the detailed note about Flint's behavior into a tight scroll, with Kent watching over him through his bright amber eyes, when he heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs towards where he was standing. His eyes snapped up, his face turning into a panicked one before he quickly shut down all emotion from physical view--or at least, mostly. What was somebody doing up here when it was dark?! Perhaps it was Ada, sending a note herself? Surely nobody else would come up here, not when it was now officially dark. Only he, a spy, had reasons to be skulking around...

Damien knew that he didn't have time to tie the scroll onto Kent's leg and send him on his, because his hands were still shaking, so he quickly stuff the note into one pocket, just as the person appeared in the doorway. He tried to keep his face free of emotion and feelings, but at the sight of Vivianne Flint shock somehow managed to break through his mask--not to mention nerves and guilt, as he quickly pulled his hand from his pocket and tried to casually stroke his owl.

[.Vivianne Catherine Flint !]

Over the past few weeks, Vivianne had been doing her best to prove herself as something. To who, she didn't know. Of what, she didn't know either. Something since she didn't know what she should have wanted to be or what she even just wanted to be. Her sister wanted her to be on her side and back her up. Meg wouldn't want her to do anything that would go against her or hurt her in anyway. She didn't know what her parents wanted her to try, didn't know what they really wanted out of her. She didn't know what she believed in. She didn't know if there was anything in the world that she would argue for. She was trying to find something to agree with and something to throw herself into. With a war going on, she had to have some side to go with or she would have nothing to do.

So when she found a journal type of book with detailed explanations of what was going on in the castle, Vivianne had to do something about it. She couldn't sit around while someone was writing to some secret organization about the things going on in their school and in the wizarding world. For one, anyone could get their hands on it and do what they wanted with it. It could be dangerous to the entire existance of the world they lived so securely in. For another, the recievers of this could be anyone. The name on the journal had pointed her to a Damien Inglebee. She knew the boy was a Ravenclaw in her own year, so it had been easy to keep some kind of tabs on him.

She watched him out of the corner of her eye when she went to class. She tried to study what he wrote and tried to find a motive to what he was doing. She tried to find anything she could about him so that she could do something about this. If she stopped him, if she somehow saved the hidden status of the wizarding world, maybe that would be enough to make her sister proud. Maybe it would be enough to make her family proud to be related to her and want to tell everyone they knew about their daughter. She had never been at the top of her class, never been a Quidditch star, never been much of anything. This could be a chance for her to be something for once in her life. She couldn't pass it up.

So she had ripped the page she considered most important from the book and kept a detailed eye on Damien. She had taken it upon herself to figure all of this out and let him know exactly how she thought about it. She watched him exit the classroom quickly and run up toward the owlery. Vivianne stayed behind him so that he would not notice that anyone was following him. In his almost panic state, he was actually every easy to watch and keept track of. She could follow him right into the owlery where he was sending something off, probably to the same people who were getting his detailed summaries of everything that happened. She had to stop him when she could.

Vivi watched after him as he made the climb. She was behind him enough that it took her a minute or so to catch up with him and find him trying to tie the letter onto the owl. Her foot steps were not meant to be light, so he should have been able to hear her coming. Lucky for her, he had no where to go and no where to hide whatever he was doing. She was very close behind him and kept him from doing whatever he wanted to accomplish. She entered the owlery and noticed his jerky movement to hide something from her view. There. That was whatever he was trying to send off to those people. The traitor.

Vivianne smiled over at him, trying to look the charming little girl she was supposed to be. He had to know that she was on to him and knew that he was up to something. "Hello," Vivi said in the calm, cool voice that she had been taught since she was little. "Funny seeing someone else up here." She took a letter from her pocket. She really didn't want to send anything, but she had folded a paper up with her sister's name on it to be something to place her in the owlery. Then something would put her there besides her own certain suspicion. He did know that he knew something about him, didn't he? That made this easier. "What are you doing up here...?" Her voice dropped off and tried to suggest that he should supply her with a name.

[damien]

It was her. He obviously was the least lucky guy on the face of this planet. Here he was, about to send a note to a muggle organization, telling them that a girl named Flint was watching him and most likely knew about him being a spy, and who showed up to prevent him from sending said note? None other than Vivianne Flint herself, smiling as if she was innocent, although his keen brown eyes could tell that she was smiling at him like a predator who had just caught their prey. And she had, in a way--she had caught him with the note stuffed into a pocket, caught him at night in this high tower. He was in trouble.

Nervously, Damien continued to stroke Kent as Vivianne greeted him, her voice calm and yet oddly intimidating. It was crazy, him being intimidated by her. She was close to a foot shorter than he was, not to mention that he knew spells very well, so he could have her beat in a duel. None of that mattered, though. She knew something about him that only one other person at this school knew--and Vivi wasn't in a contract to keep it a secret. She could go tell the Headmaster right after they were done talking. She had the power to ruin his life.

Swallowing hard, Dey tried to work his face into an innocent smile, and felt his face's features change easily, although he knew that he hadn't pulled off the look very well. He was in too much of a panic to be really good at keeping his thoughts and feelings private, something that scared him even more. She was surely reading him like an open book. His feelings weren't relieved at all when she mentioned that it was funny seeing anybody else up there. His eyes followed her hand to her pocket, where she pulled out a piece of paper. He highly doubted that she was actually planning on sending that thing.

When she spoke again, her voice trailed off in a way that suggested she wanted his name. Well, if he was correct in assuming that she had been keeping tabs on him (and Damien was ninety-nine percent sure), she knew his name good and well. So she was putting up an act, then? Trying to lull him into a false sense of security? But no...Damien's eyes searched hers, and he decided that she wasn't hiding emotions well if she wanted to trick him into thinking she was just innocently sending a note. She knew that he knew that she had been watching. She was trying to scare him. And it was working.

"Damien," he said, clearing his throat and letting his hand drop from Kent's feathers. He nervously reached up to smooth his hair into some form of neatness. He tried again for an innocent smile, but it just didn't feel right. How was this happening? He was the king of hiding emotions, the knight of holding in secrets, the lord of tucking away feelings. He took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, but his body just would not relax, and his face stayed in the same nervous looking expression.

Taking a step towards the girl, Damien decided that he should just get out of here now, and send the letter some other day--and make sure that he wasn't followed. However, Flint was blocking the doorway, so all he could do was stand right in front of her, smiling half-heartedly, and continue talking. "Damien Inglebee, pleasure to meet you," he continued, voice soft as he looked down at the girl who had total control over the situation. She had backed him into a corner. "I just came up to say hello to my owl, you see. Haven't talked to him in a while, so I thought I'd come give him a treat."

The smile that he so forcefully kept on his face finally fizzled out, and he quickly looked away from Viv's eyes which, he suddenly realized, were similar to his own. He, however, didn't particularly like his eyes, nor did he think that his could get as intense this witch's eyes could. Something was strangely attractive about Vivianne's eyes, though, but Damien knew that if he continued staring into them he might mess up, give something away, or become frozen in fear, none of which he could do.

Perhaps not so subtley, Damien's eyes couldn't help but to take in the person whom was threatening his very existance in Hogwarts, although he was careful not to meet her eyes again. He had seen Flint, of course, but usually from far away, or if she was close up he didn't look at her, not this way. His mind calculated everything quickly. Her hair was dark like his, wavy in complete control, something that his own head of hair never was. She had followed him straight from class, so she was in robes similar to his. The most interesting part about her, he decided, was her eyes, but he knew that looking into them too much just wasn't a bright idea.

"Erm..." Amazing, he sounded nervous. This was not going well at all. He had to talk his way out of this somehow, get her to move aside so that he could bolt. Dey stuck his hands into his pocket and slumped down, not looking as tall as he usually did. Finally, when he couldn't avoid it any longer, his dark eyes shifted so that he was staring into Vivianne's. "We have a few classes together, right? Vivianne Flint, I believe?" Good, he needed to get the subject off of himself. Keep her questions at bay. Merlin, he had gotten himself into a fix. And his damn brain wasn't helping any but noting him every few seconds that her eyes were exceptionally beautiful.

[.Vivianne Catherine Flint !]

Now that she was here, she was not entirely sure of what she had planned to do. So they both knew what he was up to. That much was true even before she decided to confront him about it. How was she going to accomplish anything by this? What were her plans when she got him cornered and had control of him and the situation? She wasn't really sure. He had his hand shoved in his pocket with the letter he was going to send off before she had made herself known. He looked guilty enough. She had all the proof that she needed to get him found out and in trouble. Why was she here, unsure of what she was going to do? She should have gone to the Headmaster all of this would have been that much easier and make much more sense than standing here and trying to think of her next move.

She didn't look threatening, she knew. She was small, short, and thin. She probably looked like she could barely stand up on her own in his robes, much less shot off enough spells to overcome him or even look somewhat scary. She was too wide-eyed and small to be any kind of threat to him. There was no use trying to scare him. It wouldn't work, no matter what she did. He would be able to beat her in a duel or any kind of combat that they would be in. What exactly did she plan by showing up here and trapping him in the tiny room that served as the owlery?

At least he was no good at hiding his thoughts. She could tell what he was thinking. He knew that she knew and knew that he was trapped. He was nervous, a tell tale sign that she was absoutely right in her assumption that he really was spying for those muggles. What the hell was he planning? Were they going to try to overtake the school or wizards in general? What were their intentions with sending in spies for their side? Were they all in danger because of this boy in front of her? She had to swallow hard and do something. She wouldn't get a chance to prove herself as anything very often. She had to take advantage of it. When the time came, like now, she didn't know what to do and didn't know how to go about getting anything done.

"Damien," she repeated in the same clear, quiet voice. It didn't taste like an enemy name to her. Was he what she could consider an enemy? She wasn't sure. She didn't even know why he was spying or what he wanted to achieve with it. That would tell if he was an enemy or just someone who was foolish and misled. His journal had suggested that there could be another spy, though. Why did the muggles need spies in the school for them? They had no business knowing about things that did not relate to them. There were reasons that they all stayed in a hiding of sorts. Muggles weren't supposed to know about how the school ran or what the students did. They left the muggles alone and they did the same to them. He was crazy and had some strange agenda if he was spying for that side of filthy muggles.

She could hear her sister's voice in her ears at the last words in her head. It made her confidence swell a little and made her feel a bit better. Meg would think she was doing the right thing by growing a spine and stopping him from getting any more information to the muggles. That was her mission, and she would do it for Meg. Then her sister would care about her again and everything would be how it was supposed to be. She wouldn't be alone or anything. Then her sister would care about her. Wouldn't she?

His excuse was weak at best, but so was hers for being in the same place in order to catch him in the act. She couldn't really talk when it came to lame excuses to be in the owlery so late at night. He just kept talking, maybe hoping to find a way to get passed him and into the hall to get away from her. Damien moved closer to her, and she felt a sudden feeling of the walls closing in on her. Had the room gotten smaller? No. No, that didn't make any sense. She was being unreasonable for some reason that she couldn't really figure out at the moment. "What - what's your owl's name?" she asked, somehow distracted from her goal of confronting him and ratting him out to get herself some victory.

Something when he had moved closer had knocked the smile off of his face. Her cool front dropped along with it. What had happened to change his false smile so easily? She hadn't done anything that scary or threatening. She was doing a poor job of whatever it was that she was attempting at this point. She took a hesitant step back and didn't know what she was doing anymore. Why couldn't she think properly like a normal human being? Why was she so weird and odd compared to the other people of the world? Why did anyone even bother with her?

His eyes travelled down her, and she could not figure out what he could be looking at or for. She had seen boys look at other girls at in similiar fashions, but not her. She wasn't pretty. She wasn't anything in her mind. Maybe he just noticed the few pounds she had added over the summer. Maybe that was what had his eye. Vivi dropped her gaze to the floor and didn't know what to say. What was there to say? She didn't even know what she was doing. Maybe she should just forget about the whole thing and let someone else with the guts take all the credit and glory for the event. Then something would actually get done to help the wizarding world, and she wouldn't be standing in the middle of the dirty owlery, staring at her feet.

His voice came out in the same way she thought hers might if she tried to speak again. What was getting her into this mess? She hadn't done anything that impression. She had barely done anything at all. She couldn't figure out why she couldn't do anything right, it seemed. "Yes," she answered after a few beats of silence after he was done talking it seemed. He knew her, anyway, even if she went unnoticed by most of the student body. That was... odd, maybe. She didn't know how he would be able to pick her out of a crowd. Their circles had never really crossed. Vivi picked her gaze off of the ground and met his for what was probably the first time.

For some reason it became quite hard to breathe when her eyes had lined with his. "Vivi," she heard a voice that had to be hers before she had thought through it. What the hell was she doing? Throwing away anything she had intended to do, certainly. She had shifted her weight without a real thought so that he could have slipped past her if he wanted to really leave. She didn't notice much. It was hard to remind herself to breathe in and out to keep herself standing. What was wrong with her? "People, I mean some, they, uh, they call me Vivi."

[damien]

It was surely in Damien's imagination, but it seemed to him as if time was slowing down, the world coming to a halt, everything else in the universe disappearing except for himself, the Slytherin girl in front of him, and a secret that had yet been pushed out into the open. He felt a constriction in his test, an overwhelming terror at what had he gotten himself into. He had always known that spying on Hogwarts for muggles was a dangerous thing that would lead to nasty consequences. He had always known that he would feel guilt, that he was risking himself and others, that there was always the lingering threat of being found out.

He had never thought, though, that it would be this...unarming. But was it all just because his secret had been found out? Or was it more because of the person who had found it out? Was Vivianne the cause of his pounding heart, was it significant that she over all people had gotten that part of his journal, that she knew what he was doing? The way she said his name, after he told her what it was, sent an odd chill down his spine. She was calm, cool, totally collected and in control of the situation. What was he, though?

Well, he was a bloody mess, an open book. Damien Inglebee hadn't been an open book since when he was little, since the beginning of the beatings that had gradually led up to this point. He was always so in control, even when the tables were turned, even when he was in pain, or guilty, or felt as if his heart was tearing itself into pieces. Yet here he was, standing in front of a girl who was half his size, who wasn't being openly threatening, and he was practically shaking like a leaf. He just couldn't figure out why she had such an effect over him.

Damien's excuse was weak and an obvious lie, and he knew it, but as he stepped forward towards Vivianne and his eyes began to really look at her, he noticed that something in her changed too. His smile was gone from his face, and now suddenly she didn't have such a cool aura around her. Flint seemed to be easier to read now, too, and she seemed...turned around. Just as unarmed as him. That made no sense! She was the one that knew his secret. Why didn't she just say something already, acuse him of his crime, get it over with so that he could finally have this job lifted off his chest? Why was she slowly torturing him?!

It took him a moment to realize that Vivi had asked him what his owl's name was, which made Damien blink his dark eyes in slight surprise, some of the panic clearing from his mind. There was no way in hell that this girl had bought his lie about just wanting to come say hi to his pet bird. Only a complete idiot would fall for something like that, and seeing how Vivianne already knew his secret about being a spy, he highly doubted she was lacking in the intelligence department. A silence stretched out as Damien swallowed a few times, his throat very dry, trying to keep himself from staring at the girl in front of him.

"His name's Kent," he said softly, and hated how weak his voice sounded--lost and confused and scared. He was practically confessing to her that he was guilty! Yet, she didn't seem to be noticing about his emotions as much--he could tell by her expression and movement that she was distracted, by what he wasn't sure. He watched as she took a tiny step back, opening a tiny gap that would allow him to escape from this place and run far away, to avoid Flint for as long as he could. She was still partially blocking his path, though, and he was far too focused on her to even remember that he had decided he should leave.

As his hormones took over his brain, as they did often for most seventeen year old boys, Damien's eyes roved over Vivianne, obvious in every sense of the word. When his eyes ended up flickering up to look at her face for a moment, he saw that she had turned his face downwards, eyes staring at the floor, and he felt a confusing stab of disappointment. Flint was a Slytherin who knew a horrible secret of his, and yet he was standing here checking her out, and liking what he saw. He was attracted to the girl who knew his secret. And he kept just wanting to see her eyes again...so deep and intense. Damien mentally shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

After he asked her in turn for her confirmation on her name, and where he had seen her (even though he knew exactly where he'd seen her, but anything to keep the conversation going), his eyes stayed glued to her face as a silence stretched out between them. Damien became suddenly aware of every sound and movement Vivianne was making. She was shifting her weight here and there, her robes rustling and swirling around her body in the breeze that was appearing from the dark grounds. The rustle of owl wings all around them barely registered in his mind, so focused was he on Viv.

Her simple 'yes' didn't do anything for the tenseness in the air--Damien didn't know what to say to that, except for an unintelligent 'ah', but he already was acting and sounding dumb enough around her. The silence stretched a bit again, and Damien took his hands out of his pockets, letting them hang losely at his sides, still slumping down. His hair was whipped around a bit, tugged out of place. He couldn't be annoyed by that right now, though. He was much too distracted, because Vivianne was suddenly looking up from the ground, and their eyes met.

Damien suddenly realized that while he had looked her in the eyes, her gaze hadn't focused on his. Now, though, their eyes connected, both of them looking straight back at the other, and he felt his breath catch again, momentarily lost as she looked at him. He had thought her dark brown eyes were intense...but they were even more so when she was actually looking him straight in the eyes. His chest felt as if it were being squeezed, and something must have been wrong with his ears, because his hearing was messing up.

"Vivi." Her voice both sounded distant, and at the same time, very close, which made absolutely no sense. Damien swallowed, both tongue and throat parched, his chest pounding recklessly in his chest without ceasing. The panic from before, of being caught, was replaced by a whole new feeling of chaos, one that didn't make any sense in his brain. Maybe it was lack of oxygen, causing his mind and feelings to mess up. He was definitely distracted, because while his eyes saw that he could now go past Vivianne--Vivi--easily, his feet wouldn't move.

"People, I mean some, they, uh, they call me Vivi." She was stumbling over her words. She was nervous, as nervous as she was. She had the dirt on him, had came in here calm and in control, and now they were both suddenly at a loss of what to say, stuttering and generally making fools of themselves. Damien took a deep breath, and his feet moved foward--but not in the direction that would take him away from this mind altering girl, to a safe place where he could plan on what to do about being caught. No, he was now even closer to the witch with the beautiful dark hair and matching dark eyes.

"Vivi," Damien said, his voice a hoarse whisper. God, what was up with him? Why was he acting this way? When had his brain decided to turn off from all thought except for how she looked, and how she sounded, and how that nickname was really cute? "I, er, like it. It's...it's fitting." He was stumbling just as much as her, at a loss of what to say and do. They were a foot apart now at most, and Damien could see out of the corner of his eye Vivi's chest rising and falling in the same sporatic way his was.

"You don't understand," he suddenly blurted, although his voice was no more than a whisper, his eyes never leaving hers. "You know what I'm doing, but it's not what you think." He knew that he was making no sense, not to mention confessing that he was a spy. What was the sense of hiding it, though? And what if he could explain his way out of this? He didn't have a choice, did he? The muggles, including his father, were cruel and dangerous. He had no choice, right?

"I have no choice," he said, and his voice sounded different, and far away. He didn't sound like the Damien everybody knew. He wasn't acting like the Damien everybody knew. Everything was going wrong, and it was this girls fault. And deep down, in his pounding heart, he didn't even care.

[.Vivianne Catherine Flint !]

This should have been easy enough to do. She just had to corner him in the owlery, which she had already done, and get him to admit to his spying that he had been at for Godric knew how long. She was close to that already, she knew. So there was nothing complicated left. It should have been easy to smirk and turn on her heel, tell a professor, and have him expelled in a matter of moments. Right now she should have whipped around and went to the Headmaster's office so she could report it. She might even get one of those Special Services to the School things they were always talking about in History of Magic. It was simple.

But she couldn't do it, and she didn't know why. There was nothing stopping her from being the horrible, stereotypical Slytherin girl and stomping on his life and ruining it in a few sentences. She wasn't sure of what she was doing, but he had made it so easy for her to escape and ruin everything he knew. Not only would his spy phase be over, but he would be turned out of the school, maybe even punished by the law outside the castle. Damien was in serious trouble, and she knew about it, and she couldn't move from her spot for reasons that she could not explain to herself.

She may have looked more collected than he was, but she was second guessing herself and wondering what the hell was wrong with her in her head over and over again. What a coward she turned out to be. This person that she had become was not someone who would make her parents or sister proud or like her anymore. This person would always been clinging onto their shadows and hoping that she could do more because she was too afraid to when the time came to do anything. It would always be like this, wouldn't it? She would never grow that backbone she needed to be anything more.

His lie was easily seen through. She didn't know anyone who would fall for such an excuse with the evidence she had behind her claim. Even without knowing that he was up to something, he seemed extremely guilty. Vivianne wasn't that good at reading people, but she could read his panic, so he must have been even more obvious to others. She didn't know what her aim was in asking for the name of his owl, but it did keep him talking. Why that was important, she also didn't know. She wasn't understanding why she was saying what she was saying or doing what she was doing or anything. Nothing seemed to make sense, and she couldn't figure out why.

She took another step back, as if she were trying to convince herself to go and tell on him so that she could be braver than she had been before. It wasn't working, though. She couldn't move more than a step at a time, and each time she had to stop and look up at him. The path was open if he wanted to push passed her, but he seemed to have no intention of leaving either. Why was that? He should have wanted to run off so that she didn't have the chance to get information from him, not that she was really going to be able to. That much was obvious in her own mind. She would be lucky if she got the nerve to even leave the room with pride.

Vivi nodded and repeated the owl's name. "Kent." She shifted her weight back and forth again and tried to search her brain for something to say to him. "He doesn't bite, does he?" One would think that she had come up to have a conversation with him rather than try to expose him for hurting the wizarding world. What was wrong with her, and how did she intend to get anything done? She couldn't think straight with him standing there, and it made no sense at all. Maybe she wasn't the bravest of people, she wasn't a Gryffindor, but she could usually think straight and this was disarming to say the least.

When his eyes moved over her, her eyes had the first instinct to fall to the ground and away from him. She didn't know what he was thinking as he looked over her, and she didn't know if she even wanted to find out. She had enough thoughts on her appearance for the both of them, and she didn't need to hear whatever condemning things he could think of too. Vivi bit down on her bottom lip and wondered to herself as to why she let him make her feel like this. She was supposed to be the one with the power, the one in charge, and she was the one feeling like she wasn't worth anything. Why did things have to turn out like this? Couldn't she win, just once? Apparently that was too hard for the Gods, or whoever looked over them all, to make it possible.

She nodded again and forced her chin up. She didn't want him to know how she felt about herself. That was none of his business. He could keep his own comments to himself as well. She raised her chin to almost challenge him to say something that could hurt her. Really, it would not have been hard, and the expression didn't stay on her face long. She looked up with something of a bit of confidence. Maybe she would manage to make something out of this. That was shattered quickly, though, when his dark eyes met her own and she could feel their gazes lock.

When they had seen each other the last time, they had not met gazes like this. Their eyes had not focused solely on the other person's, and it had not have the same heart-dropping sensation. She felt like her heart had gotten kicked into over drive and couldn't stop. She could feel her pulse echo in her ears, and she couldn't think straight at all. What had she been going to say? What was she planning? She couldn't remember anything other than his name and the fact that his eyes seemed like one of the only real things in the world. What was wrong with her? What were these thoughts about and what did they mean?

She was rooted in her spot, and she couldn't move, even if she wanted to. She didn't know if she wanted to move. As strange as the feelings were, they made her feel better than she had in longer than she could remember. She was failing her family, but she felt high above the rest of the world. Her pulse was throbbing and her eyes were locked with his and the room felt like it was spinning, but she hadn't felt something like it before. It was... brilliant, really. She decided that no, she didn't want to move from her spot.

After her stumbling statement, his moved slowly closer to her. Her heart rate picked up, and she was afraid that he would be able to hear it. She didn't know what was going on or why she felt this way, but she didn't think that she wanted to stop anytime soon. She was feeling something she thought of as good for one of the first times in a long time, and she loved it. Whatever it was, she didn't want it to stop now. Let whatever reprecussions happen later, for now she felt like she was on top of the world and no one could knock her down from her post. He moved closer to her, their eyes staying in contact with the other as they moved. Maybe he felt the same way for reasons she also didn't know.

His voice sounded low and shaky and better than anything she could remember. What was wrong with her? Why was this making her feel better than anything she could think of? If she didn't know any better, she would say that she was falling for him. She couldn't be doing that, though. It was dangerous and stupid and crazy and probably right, despite all of that. Something really was wrong in her brain if Damien, the boy who was spying for the muggles and was feeding them information that could hurt them all, was the one her body and mind wanted her to fall for like this. She was right all along and there really was something the matter with her.

"Oh," she answered in a shaking voice. "Thanks." She offered him a small, unsure smile, and she didn't know what was possessing her to do it. Both of them seemed to have a hard time forming complete thoughts or sentences, but both seemed to both have the same hard time catching their breath and remembering to do the normal thing of breathing. At least she wasn't alone in the strange feelings that were confusing her.

She opened her mouth to speak again. She didn't know what she as going to say, but she was interrupted from her incomplete thought by his exclaimation in the form of a whisper. Her eyes widened again as he spoke. He was just admitting to what she had silently accused him of. He must have known that she wasn't going to be able to tell a soul. He had no choice? The cruel part of her brain, the one that her sister had a hold over, told her that everyone had a choice, that he had chosen the wrong one, that something should happen to him. This other, new side of her was taking over instead. Maybe he had no choice. Maybe he was forced into it. Maybe he wanted to prove something to someone - just like her. Maybe they were more alike than she would ever normally admit.

"What do you mean?" she answered in nothing more than a whisper to him. "Is someone - are they going to hurt you?" Her voice shook with the thought, and she didn't know what to do. She couldn't have him hurt, not after he had made her feel like this. No one had ever done it before, no one had cared to even try. She couldn't do anything that she knew would hurt him. She knew that much, even if she had blamed it on cowardice before. Before she could control herself, she took another small step toward him so that they were very close. Her skin tingled pleasantly as if asking her to reach out to him. Just to see what it was like? Couldn't she do that?

Vivianne lifted her hand to rest lightly on his forearm, and she could feel the shock from her skin to his and back through her hand. Could he feel it to, or was that just him? "Who is doing this to you?" She didn't even know what she was asking about. Maybe she was still thinking about the plot to spy on them all that he was in the middle of. Maybe she was thinking more along the lines of wanting him to admit that he was having the same strange feelings. Maybe that would make her feel better about this whole thing. No, it would certainly make her feel better about getting like this over what some would consider her enemy. She couldn't bring herself to hate him or dislike him or want anything to happen to him, though, and she only wanted to know why he was doing this and if he felt the same as she did.

[damien]

Everything he was doing, every thought he had, every feeling that coursed through his body, every thump of his heart was crazy and insane. She was an enemy, somebody who knew his secret and was going to turn him in and have him punished, expelled from Hogwarts to forever live in the hell of his home, where his father would beat him and his brother and his mother because he had failed. Damien's thoughts on this were enough to make his heart throw itself against his chest, as if begging to escape so that he would never have to endure such pain. Was he running away, though? Was he forcing this girl to keep silence, was he hiding his guilt skillfully to save himself? No, he wasn't.

Just the sound of her voice, as she said his name and then repeated his bird's name made him sweat. He couldn't leave, couldn't run. Something told him that she wasn't the enemy. She wasn't going to ruin his life. In fact, the way he was feeling right now, she could only make his life better. How did that make any sense? Well, it didn't make any sense at all. Damien didn't know Flint, didn't know for sure that she wouldn't be telling the Headmaster in the next few hours about him, didn't know what she was thinking or feeling. Yet he was so sure that there was nothing to worry about, that her knowing about him was not a problem.

He watched as she shifted her weight, looking just as lost as him, asking him if his bird bit. The words formed on his tongue--no, Kent didn't bite--but something happened and he couldn't force his mouth open, couldn't force himself to say anything or even move anything besides his eyes that followed her every movement. He took a deep breath, wondering what was wrong, why he wasn't able to even form sentences in front of this girl. Was it because he was scared? He surely felt scared, but he didn't feel the kind of fear that should have been in this situation. It wasn't a fear to save himself. Damien felt a fear for a different reason...because he didn't know what was going on and because h liked it. That scared him.

"No," he finally said, swallowing hard to try and help heal his dry and cracked feeling throat. "No he's...quite friendly. Unless you're a bad person." For some reason, the second part burst from his mouth before he could stop it. Damien didn't know where the words came from, even if they were true. Kent didn't like people who were naturally mean, who did bad things because they liked to and could. A part of him wanted Vivianne to realize that this meant he wasn't a bad person. He wasn't evil, he didn't want to bring down Hogwarts because he hated the wizarding world or maybe got some sort of power out of this whole deal. It seemed very important that she know that he wasn't bad.

As he looked at her and she looked away, Damien had an odd feeling that he was making her feel...not uncomfortable, really, but maybe scared. Why, though? Why was Vivianne seeming vunerable when she had the control, when she should have had him shaking on the spot, forcing him to do anything she wished in exchange for his secret. Why was she so afraid to meet his eyes as he looked at her. Was she worried about what he might think? Was she daft enough to feel as if he was judging her? His brain told him only every few seconds that Vivianne was very, very beautiful. Why was she acting like that? Why wouldn't she show her eyes that he liked so much?

Just as Damien thought this, Vivianne forced her head up, looking filled with a bit more confidence now. Damien waited as she looked at him, wondering if she was going to say something to him now. Was this the moment when she would bring down the hammer, expose his secret and inform him that he would soon be nothing but a memory at Hogwarts? The worry in his stomach escalated, and just as he was beginning to think that this was the end for him, their eyes met. And suddenly, everything seemed to...fall away.

His breathing came out shorter now, his chest working double time just to keep him alive. His heart had jumped up into his throat, and his brain seemed to have quit working. What had he been worrying about before? What had been so important, why had something in his mind been telling him to run away as fast as he could? Why would he want to leave the gaze of eyes that were so...there weren't even words to describe them. Damien was so lost in the eyes of Vivi that he wasn't even aware of his own actions. He suddenly found himself dangerously close to her, and now closer to his escape out that door. He suddenly found that he didn't want to escape and didn't care if he stood here, with her, for much longer.

The way her nickname rolled off of his tongue seemed...perfect. The way she said it, and the way it sounded to him, was like music in his ears. A music that Damien didn't want to stop--he just wanted to say her name over and over again. Something was seriously wrong with him, if he could barely think just because of her name. His compliment towards her was weak and shaky, in a low voice that had him feeling ashamed. He liked it and it was fitting? What kind of compliment was that? There was so much more that he could and should say, about her and her name and so many other things. Instead, all he could do was stare at her, brown eyes boring into brown eyes, and force himself to breathe.

The way she accepted the compliment had him wondering whether she was feeling the same way he was. She certainly didn't seem to be forming sentences any better than he was, and her voice was shaky like his. They were both breathing rather oddly, that much was obvious. It was almost as if there wasn't enough oxygen in the room, but that was completely insane. They were in a circular room in the sky that had no windows--the only place with more oxygen would be standing right out on the grounds. What, then, had them both acting like this, as if they had forgotten the most simplest of acts? Was Vivi having the same type of chaos in her mind and body that Damien was having in his, or was she acting odd for a different reason entirely?

And then there was the smile--an unsure smile that somehow made him smile back, even though he was freaking out, even though he was caught, even though he couldn't quit staring at her. His lips moved up slightly at the sides, and he didn't understand how he could smile at this point, but it felt as if smiling was the only thing he was able to do now. Look into Vivi's eyes and smile, was all Damien's brain said. Maybe it was those eyes that made him blurt out his secret. Maybe it was Vivi's very presence that suddenly made him want to confess to her things that he had never, ever confessed to anybody else. Not even his own brother and mother knew everything that bothered him.

He was usually a very closed off guy, who shouldered the world without any sound and without excepting help. He would deal with his own problems and deal with other's problems too, all the while forcing himself to go on without complaining. Damien rarely cried, rarely got upset anymore. He hid it all away into a deep part of himself, and nobody was the wiser. Yet he had been talking to this girl (if you could call it talking) for only a little while and suddenly he found himself blurting out his deepest secrets. And while it was dumb, and crazy, and probably selfish...it almost felt right. Vivi made him want to confide in her. She made him feel different. He didn't even know what it was but she made him feel it, and he liked it.

Dey watched in a sort of blind panic as Vivi's eyes widened at his words, feeling like an idiot. Now was the time to run. She didn't care--why would she care? She was just going to turn him in, and he should run now, and tell his brother that soon he would be gone and to get away from their dad as soon as he could. Yet he couldn't move from the spot, staring into Vivi's eyes still. He felt himself going pale in the silence, and was just about to force his legs into submission when Vivi suddenly whispered something that made his own eyes widened. She sounded...she sounded concerned. Not like she didn't care, not like she had no sympathy. She was asking whether or not somebody was going to hurt him, and he felt his throat choke up in a way that was very unlike him. He swallowed hard, forcing away the lump that was forcing, telling himself that he didn't need to tell her. That she didn't need to worry about him, that she should just go turn him in now.

Suddenly, though, she took a step forward, and he felt as if his heart stopped. There was complete silence in Damien's mind as she moved closer to him, so close that he had only seen couples like this. Then her arm was very suddenly on his forearm in a very gentle way, and he felt a shock go through him at her touch, a tingling that took over his whole body. What was going on? Why wasn't he getting out of here? Why did Vivi care about him, and why was she sending his mind into frenzy, and why had his body been shocked when she touched him?

It took him another moment to realize that she had asked another question--who was doing this to him? She really wanted to know. She wanted to know why he had no choice, and who wasn't giving him a choice, and what would happen if he didn't spy on the school. Could he convince her that he didn't want to do this? That he loved the magical world, but spying was the only way to save his family and, more selfishly, himself? Would she listen, or understand? Damien tried taking deep breaths, feeling trapped as his eyes wandered over to the hand on his forearm. Slowly with his opposite hand, he reached up to place it over Vivi's, and when his eyes met hers again his shoulders slumped.

"My dad," he said, and his voice was still that same hoarse whisper as before. "He...makes me spy for the muggles. Threatens my mum and brother. Beats them. Beats...me." The words were torn out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he immediately looked away, closing his eyes tightly, grimacing. Was he going for pity here? He didn't care if he was beaten, as long as his mum and brother were alright. He didn't matter--he had never mattered, in his mind.

"The muggles will do stuff to them," he muttered, his voice shaking. "They're an agency. The'll hurt Denny and mum. I don't care if they get me, but they're not allowed to touch them." Opening his eyes, Damien turned his head to meet Vivi's eyes again, feeling a lump crawl back into his throat. His hand around hers tightened. "I don't want to. I love Hogwarts. Please, you have to understand...They'll hurt the only people who have ever cared."

[.Vivianne Catherine Flint !]

It was still hard to breathe, and the time passing by her wasn't making it any easier. She still couldn't catch her breathe or try to take another one. It was hard to even remember breathing when the world seemed to spin in circles around her and stop at the same time. She swallowed to try to regain control of herself, and she could not take her eyes away from his face and eyes for some reason that she could not understand as much as she tried. When she looked into his eyes, it was when everything slipped away and she was let confused and unsure of what to do and what was happening to her.

It took her a few seconds to even remember what she had asked him. When she did, she nodded mutely at him. Did he think she was a bad person? Was that the intent of his statement? She really wasn't, she thought. She was just trying to be what her parents and sister would want. Vivianne wasn't the kind to go out of her way to hurt someone or do something bad to them. She wasn't threatening to tell on him so that something would happen to him. It was to get her family's attention and have someone else be proud of her. It was a way to find if anyone cared for her, even if she didn't care for herself. It was a cry for attention, and not an attempt at being cruel.

"Will he bite me?" she asked cautionously, not sure if she wanted the answer that he would give her. She wanted him to speak honestly if he was going to say something, and she didn't know why she cared if he thought she was good or bad, but she thought that she wanted to know what he thought of her. The truth would probably hurt, but maybe it could settle these weird feelings that were swirling around her and make some sense of them. His answer could be direct and to the point and stop these crazy thoughts. It was worth a shot, anyway, she supposed.

It was weird to look up at him and feel like her own thoughts were being reflected in his eyes. If she were able to fool herself, she would think that he might feel the same way she was right now. That couldn't be right, though. He had no reason to feel like that, be likes this, whatever it was. Damien was close to her - and the exit - but he picked her over the quick escape that she had made very easy for him. Why would he do that? She had nothing to offer him and more to take away. He didn't know that she was rooted in place and too something to take a step toward the door and toward getting him kicked out and exposed. He was close to her now, close enough to touch. She even did reach out and touch him. Why, she didn't really know, but he didn't pull away from her when her hand brushed over his arm.

He smiled back at her, and her heart moved rapidly in her chest. No one, nothing she had ever known had done this to her. Her shaky smile had spread to him, for reasons she also couldn't understand. Vivi was done trying to figure out the whys and had moved on to the whats. Nothing was answering her questions. She didn't know what she was feeling or what it meant, but she thought that he might be feeling the same way. That would never make sense to her, but at least she could try to figure out what all of this meant.

Vivianne didn't usually tell people anything about her. They never showed an interest in her, so she never shoved herself into their attention. They would disregard her anyway, she was sure. She dealt with her own problems, no matter what they were, because she had no one to talk to when they came up. She learned to close herself off and be the only person she really knew. Growing up without any real friends had made her feel as if she didn't deserve them, so she had to learned to deal without them. She didn't hear other people's problems, and no one knew of hers. Now, it seemed as if he wanted to tell her what his problems were. It even seemed like he would accept whatever she presented him as her concerns and problems that she faced all the time. She had never experianced anything like that. No one had ever taken an interest in her, so she failed to see why this boy would. To his knowledge, she wanted him gone and found out.

She didn't know what made her so concerned. She shouldn't have cared. She was the one who was suppoed to be getting him into trouble. Vivianne wasn't supposed to listen to his story of why he was doing what he was doing. She was to tell on him and not care about what had brought him to this time. In the eyes of the Death Eaters and the like, he would just be a pest who was damaging them by reporting to the muggles that they hated so much. No excuse would be good enough to them, and none should have been good enough to her. He sounded so scared, though, and she couldn't help but to know more and how to help him. He didn't sound like a ruthless person who wanted to hurt them. If he was telling the truth, he was only doing what he thought he had to or was being forced too. Vivi didn't have any real proof that he wasn't lying, but she didn't think he could have been so convincing if he was. She already knew the secret.

They were so close when they had both moved forward to the other person. Something had drawn them both there, and she couldn't have been imagining it. She reached out her hand and laid it on his arm, trying to show him some kind of comfort and reassurance that she was not going to cause him any harm. Sometime, and she wasn't exactly sure when, she had known that she couldn't turn him in. He made her feel like this, whether she knew why or not, and she couldn't stand for that to go away. Her senses were tingling as their skin touched lightly.

His hand went over hers, his eyes dropped from hers, and she was completely lost. Her skin tingled all the more when his hand came over to cover hers. She'd asked him something, she remembered dimly, though little could get through to her now when his hand was resting over hers and he was so close to her. She looked up to meet his eyes again as he confessed. He looked away after saying such an awful thing, as if he couldn't truly bring himself to talk about it. She had the urge to turn his face to her and do something to make it all better. Nothing would, she knew, but she wanted to try. Maybe they could meet gazes again and try to figure something out. Maybe she would even try to kiss him and make it better, she didn't know what she would or would not do anymore. His words rang something in her head. Maybe the place she was touching now on his arm was a site of these beatings he mentioned. How could someone do that to another person? Self-injury made more sense than that to her. Her own forms of self-injury hurt herself and not the people around her. Why would someone do that. She lifted her hand up to turn him to face her.

He turned and met her gaze before she touched his cheek. Her hand froze in place in the air where she had tried to reaching up to him in some way. She had never known why people found so much comfort in another's touch. Now she could understand it a little more. With another hard swallow, her fingers touched his cheek reassuringly, and he was closer than anyone had ever been to her. "I understand," she almost whispered. And she did, somehow. How could she turn him in? He believed in something and was fight for it, something she couldn't say about herself. "I won't tell anyone. I promise." Her fingers stayed against his cheek. It felt warm against her chilled fingers.

[damien]

It seemed as if these crazy feelings, this lack of breath, and lack of actual thought should have gotten better over time, not worse. Most things got better over time when you got used to them, right? Or was it like some other stuff in life where it had to get worse before it could get better? This all would have been making more sense of his mind was working right, but he felt off balance and dizzy, as if the world was rotating faster than usual. His mind was lost to everything except for Vivianne standing in front of him, and the way her eyes looked, and the way her voice sounded, and the way it made him feel great.

When Vivianne asked her next question about Kent, Damien wasn't sure what to say. He didn't know this girl at all really...Yet, how could Vivi be a bad person, when she wasn't even threatening him with the secret that could ruin his life? How could a person be all bad when they made his heart stop beating, made his throat run dry and his mind quit working in a way that generally made him feel like the luckiest guy on the planet? That couldn't be bad, could it? And she seemed so nervous by asking that question, as if she were afraid that he would tell her that he would bite her because Kent knew that she was a bad person. That wasn't what his heart was telling him--it was obviously his heart speaking, because his mind had bailed on him a long time ago.

"No, I don't think he'd bite you," Dey finally said when his throat cooperated, and he sounded very confident in that one sentence at least. "I don't know why he would." These words were out of his mouth before they could register anywhere, although that wasn't much of a surprise, the way he was feeling and acting. He wouldn't be surprised if he began to do everything that he would normally never dream of--that was how bad this Slytherin girl was effecting him. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to be mean and nasty, not suddenly have him feeling as if she were the nicest, prettiest girl in the world. He didn't like purebloods, or people who spied on him, or people who knew too much about him.

Why, then, was he smiling back at her right now, both of them gazing into each other's eyes as if it were impossible to look anywhere else? Why couldn't he think around her? Why couldn't he breathe? Why was he suddenly unable to hide away his feelings and stay guarded so that he couldn't get hurt anymore, couldn't be broken down? Why did Vivi make is so hard to keep secrets, where everybody else made it very easy to pretend like things were okay?

In their world, most people liked to think that everybody was okay. If they weren't crying or weren't publisizing their problems, then they were assumed fine and left to their own devices. Hardly anybody cared enough to look at somebody and really try to figure out if they were fine, or if they were lying. Maybe Damien wasn't as great of a liar as he thought, and people just didn't care enough to find out about him and his problems. Not that he had ever minded before--he had preffered to be closed off, to work things out on his own and not have to bother or worry anybody else. And what if he let somebody know his problems and then they didn't care--could he handle another blow to his mind like that? He had been emotionally abused since before he could really remember; rejected by a man that should have loved him. Why set himself up for more pain?

Vivi. It had to be her that made him feel these odd lurches in his stomach and chest, and have this weird urge to tell her everything he could about his life. It was Vivianne who made Damien seem like an open book, her and her concerned, wide, beautiful brown eyes. It was something about her that had him acting completely out of character. After all, Damien had no real logical reason to trust or like her. She was a Slytherin pureblood, people he generally didn't trust. They weren't friends--this was their first real conversation. Not to mention she knew his big secret of being a spy, something that would have made any sane person whipping her memory and running for their lives. But no, not him, because something was obviously wrong with him, feeling attracted to this particular girl.

Swallowing hard, Damien's mind was jarred back into the present by the realization, again, of how close they were. He had only ever been this close to one other girl, in the only relationship where he had gotten to the kissing point, and yet it had never been like this. Vivianne's touch on his arm was sending shivers up and down Dey's spine, and the way she was staring into his eyes made him lost and confused feeling, something happening in his heart that he didn't understand. Being a Ravenclaw, it wasn't easy for him to accept that he didn't know what was going on, and wasn't likely to any time soon. It took great effort to quit trying to figure out what she was doing to him.

As he placed his hand over hers, and as he confessed such a disgusting thing to her, panic fluttered in his chest, diminishing all the feelings of happiness that had somehow came from being around Vivianne, he couldn't bring himself to look her in the eyes any longer. What if she laughed, or didn't understand? What if she thought him weak and decided she no longer cared, and went to turn him in? Damien had set himself up for the hurt that he tried so hard to avoid, by not getting close to anybody all these years. He swallowed hard, trying to focus on the hoots of the owls around them, the breeze cast around by the wind and birds wings, but his mind seemed only to focus on the tinglings going up his arm, and how good Vivi's hand felt in his. How he really wished she could just understand...

As he mustered up the courage to look back at her again, and voice his plea for her understanding, he suddenly became away that the two of them were closer than ever before. Not only that, but her hand was very close to his face, and his face was very close to her face. Unable to look away, Damien felt the cool fingertips touch his cheeks, and as she whispered reassurance to him, he felt the lump in his throat lessen, his shoulders slumping in relief. She understood--she promised she wouldn't tell anybody. Damien licked his chapped lips, his eyes darting back and forth between Vivi's eyes and the rest of her face, and he felt his heart begin to pound louder than ever in his ears. They were so close, and he felt an attraction towards her unlike anything he had ever felt. She knew more about him than any other person, knew more about his feelings, and said she even understood him.

It was crazy and on the spot, but he couldn't help it. Her hand on his arm was sending tingle through his own hand and arm. The fingers brushing his cheek were cool and pleasant and reassuring, and her eyes were full of concern and the same feelings that he himself were witnessing. They were inches apart now, both of them whispering to each other in the dark, and Damien's heart was controlling what he did now, not his mind. His mind would have been rational about this all, but not his heart. His heart was pounding against his ribcage and demanding things of him that didn't make any sense. He didn't like this girl. He didn't know this girl. The only thing he did know was that she was understanding, and kind, and beautiful, and practically a saint.

"Thank you," he whispered, and his hand dropped from hers to gently brush away the dark hair by her neck. His warm hand slid to the back of her neck, and he bent closer, eyes focused solely on her. Yet Damien was afraid to go any closer, go any farther. Surely he couldn't kiss her. It wasn't right or logical, because they didn't know each other or like each other. The pounding of his heart couldn't be anything more than simple attraction...Gradditude for her keeping silence. There was nothing more to it.

Dey's eyes closed, his head tilting as his lips pressed to hers in a rush of emotions. It felt right to get even closer to her, to let his free arm wrap around Vivi and lift her up slightly. It seemed natural to let this go on forever and ever, but his mind was sluggishly sounding off alarms, and after a moment or two he broke away, eyes widening as he set her down and let go, his arm slipping from around her waist and his hand sliding from her neck to hang by his side. He took a miniscule step back, not sure what to say. Not sure what she would say.

"Oh...I'm...Merlin, I'm sorry," he said quickly, his voice low and nervous, his face showing that same fear--a fear of rejection and horror of how Vivi would react to his stupidity. "I shouldn't have...I mean you might not...You don't even really know..." He trailed off, his pale face turning a nice shade of pink, becoming more flustered by the second, which wasn't helped by the fact that they were still very close, and his mind was just now coming to terms with the fact that Vivi knew about him, and his father beating him, and how he obviously felt about her.

"That was stupid of me. You don't know me and...and I was jumping the-the gun and...Sorry," he whispered weakly, not sure how else to voice his conflicting thoughts. Half of him was fighting desperately to reconnect their lips, and the other was scolding him for doing something so brash when she didn't know him, might not really care for him like he thought, might think he was crazy for kissing her when this was their first conversation. Maybe Vivi didn't feel those same shocks and experience the same thumps of her heart like him. Damien timidly kept her gaze, one hand dangling close to hers, wondering if he had ruined everything.

[.Vivianne Catherine Flint !]

She swallowed and was almost sure that she would forget to breathe. How was it that a boy who she barely knew and should have hated could do this kind of thing to her? No one ever had before, and he just walked in and stumbled over her nerves and feelings and heart. He didn't mean to walk into her life like this, but he had for some reason that didn't seem to make sense to her. He didn't think she was awful, somehow, and didn't find her to be a bad person. It surprised her. She had been sure that he would hate her. She was a threat to his secret, after all, and could ruin his life with a few words if she mounted the courage. He didn't know that she was nothing more than a silly coward who would never get the courage to do it. Vivianne took a slow step forward to the owl. Her thin arms reached out and scratched the bird's head. He had told her that he wouldn't bite, after all.

When their eyes locked, any thoughts about his bird or her thoughts or anything else in the world disappeared. How could she think of anything else? She couldn't breathe and couldn't think and couldn't do anything. Maybe he felt the same, but that seemed unlikely. He probably had a girlfriend or something and she was being weird and ridiculous. It was all in her head. She was imagining everything, and it was crazy. He couldn't be thinking the same way. Only she would be stupid enough to do something like that. It would be so much easier if she could look away from his eyes to do something. That seemed extemely unlikely, though.

His hand was warm over hers and made her whole body seem to warm with it when he touched her by putting his hand over hers. It made her whole arm tingle and travel up and through her to her toes. She couldn't think about anything besides the feeling of it on her, and it was hard to remember what he had said to her and what she was supposed to answer back. She was supposed to open her mouth and say something. She didn't know what she was supposed to say or how she was even supposed to keep talking. It was so hard to remember the smallest details that were usually easy enough to not require thought.

He looked up at her and wanted her to understand. He wanted her to soothe him after he had admitted such a thing to her. She whispered a reassurance to him, and she felt her hands brush his cheek. They were so close together. Closer than she had been with anyone and felt like this, it was strange when she let her mind wander enough to remember that she was in the middle of the owlery with a boy she barely knew. She felt like she had been here forever and that things in her life had not started until the time she met this boy. It was so hard to do anything, let alone remember not feeling like this around him. Would this have happened if he met her sometime before this? He seemed nervous to talk to her now, since he had not known how she would take his confession. It looked as though she was the first person to know such a thing about him.

"Of course," she whispered back. His hand then moved again to brush away some of her dark hair. Her heart seemed to stop completely at the gentle brushing against her skin. Didn't he see what he was doing to her so easily? Then his hand came to rest on the back of her neck. He should have known by now of what he was doing to her by just being there. His hand was on her neck as he pulled himself down closer to her, trying to match her height. Without telling them to, Vivianne could feel her toes lift her and her body strain to get closer to him. She lifted herself onto her toes to pull closer to him with the hand on the back of her neck and his close presence to keep her safe. His face tilted down to hers and she felt her eyes slide closed as if she knew what she was doing.

Damien's arm went around her waist and lifted her up and second before his lips pushed slowly against hers. The feeling of his soft lips on hers sent her body into a feeling she didn't recognize as anything she had before. Both of her hands rested on his shoulders to pull herself up to share the brief kiss. Vivi let herself be lifted slightly off the ground and felt as if it could go on for quite awhile without her caring about anything else but the comforting feeling of his lips moving against hers and his arm holding her up. It all seemed fine to her, even if she didn't know exactly what to do when she got to a situation like this.

Everything was fine until he put her down and backed up a step. His hands were off her and by his side before she could even pull herself out of the kissing induced daze of sorts. What was this? After that, after he had kissed her and made her feel like that he was going to run off to his spies and tell them all about it. She felt hotness at her eyes quickly. It was irrational. He had no tie to her. He'd just wanted a snog, and she gave him one. She wouldn't let herself be like that. She tried to stand her ground, but she wasn't threatening enough to do so. How could he kiss her and then try to take it back?

He was sorry? Sorry? For what? Kissing her? Hadn't he felt the same thing as she had? There was nothing in her actions that she had thought made her seem like anything less than enthusiastic. She could hear her mother yelling at her for being too fast with a boy. He was turning red as he was talking. So maybe he did care for her in the same way she was thinking she was growing to care for him without wanting or giving herself permission to. They were still close together, since his step had not been a large one, and she had not moved from her spot. "You're... sorry?" she asked bluntly, her voice coming out louder than it had since she had felt her mind go fuzzy around him.

He thought it was stupid and was regretting it. Her lips still felt warm where he had kissed her, and she didn't know what to say. If she were anyone else, she would have shut him up with a kiss. She couldn't give herself the courage to do something like that, though. Vivi dropped her gaze and turned pink at her thoughts. Her mother would have a fit. Not only was she kissing a boy she barely knew, he was spying for muggles and he certainly could't have been a pureblood. She didn't recognize his surname, and she most all of them who were considered purebloods from her family. "I'm... not sorry," she mumbled into the floor as she let her hands drop to her sides as well. And she wasn't.