Regimentum ⪼ Sirius Black/OC

Ambigendi locus

Sirius shoots her a faint smirk and drawls, "Do I detect a hint of disappointment in your voice, Vivian?"

She rolls her eyes, shouldering past him into the lift and sending a Slytherin glower at a man who is already standing inside. "As if I'd ever be happy to see your ridiculous friends," she grumbles, but her voice lacks the same hardness that it used to possesses, back when she might have said those words with more resolution. Sirius's smirk widens.

"Right, right," he murmurs, keeping his voice low as he joins her on the crowded elevator. "I guess that means you're happy enough having only me for company." He grins at the scowl she throws at him.

"You know, I've been playing around with a spell that only allows specific people into the wards we've set up. It's an alteration of the Caterwauling charm, without all the ruckus." Vivian crosses her arms and arranges her expression into one of boredom as she stares at the doors of the lift, which remain open as several additional Ministry employees hurry to enter it. As everyone shuffles about to give them room, Vivian leans against the back wall and finishes, "I wonder what would happen if I banned you."

Her mouth threatens to twitch up when Sirius turns to eye her, half inclined to take her threat seriously. One can never be too sure, he has learned, when it comes to Vivian Blair. Of course, the cool manner in which she delivers her threat rather lessens when the elevator doors abruptly swing closed and the entire thing lurches upward. When Vivian, who had been casually leaning against the wall and entirely unprepared, grabs a fistful of his shirt to prevent herself from falling, the only thing that threatens him is the renewed grin that spreads over his face.

With a full-blown smirk curling over his mouth, Sirius swings an arm around her waist to steady her and murmurs, "Please. I doubt you'd last a day without me, Godric."

Vivian pauses just long enough to summon another scowl, but alas, the force of it is further lessoned from the slight embarrassment that can be faintly detected in her eyes. She elbows him, casts a glance around the elevator to see if anyone had noticed, and wraps her fingers around the cool metal bar that extends around the entirety of it. She notably doesn't attempt to wrangle his arm from around her waist, though, which is not lost on him.

"I could last plenty of days without you," she mutters at him, just because she can.

He snorts. "I give you a week, tops," he nonchalantly responds. "After that, you'd probably burn the house down trying to turn the oven on with magic."

Ah, well, Vivian might have tried that a few times over the past few months, but to be fair, she's never actually worked an oven before. Sure, she vaguely recalls learning that magic doesn't work on muggle appliances, but she'd dropped Muggle Studies the first moment she could back at Hogwarts, so her new life requires something of a learning curve. Anyway, she hasn't tried using Incendio to start a fire in the oven for a while now, ever since Sirius had explained to her what 'electricity' is, and how 'muggles use these things called wires, which connect to this thing called propane, which the muggles use to heat their homes'. That conversation had been illuminating, if not a bit circular, as Sirius hadn't been able to answer any of the other questions she'd had concerning how all of these things actually work. The muggle world is a lot more complicated than she'd thought.

"...I haven't tried doing that lately," Vivian grumbles at him, and ignores the widening of his smirk when he realizes she has nothing better to say. Damned Gryffindor. Her annoyance fades somewhat when she feels his thumb brushing against her hip, though, and a bolt of warmth slivers through her. She doesn't look at him, and he doesn't look at her, but somehow he still manages to cultivate a quiet intensity in his touch even though they are hardly alone. It's a feeling she'd never felt before he barreled into her life; a sort of silent affection which doesn't need words to be drawn forth. She feels her halfhearted scowl twitch into a tiny smile as they reach the first floor.