Why Am I Sat With Peasants?

It wasn't often that Vivianna Varnes ate breakfast in the Great Hall. She hadn't for years, and most of her housemates had long ago stopped questioning the matter. The redhead had never been a breakfast person. Not only was it her least favorite meal of the day as far as the type of food served was concerned, but dealing with idiots always seemed ten items harder when she had only just woken up. Vivianna simply kept a bunch of bananas in her dorm, eating one every morning while getting dressed or packing her schoolbag.

This morning however, she had run out of bananas. This had happened before, and normally the teenager would just shrug it off and eat a snack sometime in the middle of the morning. But the Slytherin had not eaten dinner the previous night, having gotten caught up in the potions lab, and as a result was now the owner of a loudly growling stomach. Steeling herself for what was sure to be a bad day, if the start was any indication, the girl slid onto a seat at the Slytherin table and looked around for a piece for fruit.

Spotting an apple a few meters a away, Vivianna summoned it with a muttered charm and took a large bite. Tongue darting out to catch the trickle of juice that had been trying to slide down her lip, the witch looked up for the first time. Eyebrows raising slightly upon realizing that she was seated directly across from Alexander Nott, the corner of Vivianna's lips quirked upwards.

The feel of the Great Hall was different today, now that the teenager was awake enough to pick up on such a subtle shift. Many of the the Gryffindors seemed to be deep in enthusiastic discussion, the Ravenclaws debating in furious whispers, the Hufflepuffs slightly more somber than usual, and the Slytherins sharing meaningful glances from behind copies of the Daily Prophet. Picking up an abandoned copy that probably belonged to the fourth year sitting a few places down on the bench, the redhead flipped the newspaper open and began to read. What she found was interesting, to say the least.

Tossing the paper back down on the bench where she'd gotten it, Vivianna took another bite of her apple, silently looking up at Alexander. Eyes calculating, the girl finally allowed a smile to grace her lips. "I don't know why I wasn't expecting that," she informed the NEWT student softly, "your mother has quite the talent with words."

Now lost in an article about the collapse of the Chinese magical economy his thoughts and silent contributions were clouded by a voice nearby, a voice directed at him. Well, it had to be aimed at him for who else's Mother would have a 'talent with words.' Looking up from the paper his eyes met those of a red haired girl not much younger than him. Vivianna Varnes.

The Sixth year wasn't usually someone who Alexander spent a lot of time with, they'd no doubt conversed during their lengthy time in the house of cunning at some point but never a conversation that had been worthwhile. Not that she wasn't capable of intelligence conversation, Alexander could tell she had brains by the way she came across, but most of her mind was devoted to potions. The Slytherin was surprised she was actually sitting in The Great Hall for a change and not brewing some nasty concoction somewhere below.

'That she does.' He replied, taking a sip of his water then lightly returning it to the table, 'I'm surprised she hasn't been called into the Ministry if I'm honest.' Pansy Parkinson-Nott was behaving rather unusual in her writing. She was talented, but usually saved her work for more ministry-supportive stances. What she was doing, opposing the ministry, encouraging anti-ministry behavior was rather bold of her. He'd never known a bold Mother. Alexander had only ever known a Mother who did things that benefited her. Well, it was no secret to him that the scrapping of the marriage law would benefit her, but to be so vocal about the matter was rather reckless in her sons eyes.

'So, has she converted you?' Alexander asked with a twitch of his eyebrow as his lip curled. 'Has her anti-marriage law propaganda encouraged you to stand up against the Ministry?' The Slytherin wasn't overly interested in the red-head's affairs, his question was partly rhetorical although he was curious as to how people were viewing his Mother's words.

Vivianna allowed herself a short laugh. "The Ministry won't call her in, not now," the redhead informed her housemate, "doing so would make them look even more guilty and corrupt than they already do. They would never do that, the Ministry had always been about saving face." With a smirk on her lips, the witch quirked one eyebrow, before returning to her apple.

"If the Ministry is going to do anything," the redhead added after a short moment of contemplation, "it won't be for a couple months. Then they'll dig up some tawdry crime from her past, and get her put away in Azkaban for a month or two for it in an attempt to teach her a lesson." Vivianna tapped the fingers of her right hand rhythmically on the table as she spoke, still not letting go of the apple held in the other.

Eyes swiftly scanning the hall, Vivianna looked out for everyone she cared for. Bertie was sitting at the Ravenclaw table, happily munching on his own breakfast. Erika was seated at the other end of the table, probably a little too close to Henri Finch for anyone's safety, but she seemed content enough. Zane was missing, probably in the library, having grabbed a bit to eat before the rush. And Reid... wasn't there. It wasn't too surprising, he was like her when it came to meals, but it sent a pang of something unpleasant through her all the same. She liked knowing where her people were, it comforted her.

"Converted me? No, I wouldn't say that," the Slytherin stated slyly, "you can't convert someone into thinking the way you do if they already share your beliefs." Vivianna had never liked the Ministry, not since she was a very small child. Her mind flickered back to the rebel meeting she'd aged herself to attend, long before the Marriage Law had been put into place. She remembered watching as a wizard killed a young child, a vampire, in the middle of a village square, and how the Ministry had done nothing. She thought of how her family were allowed to carry wands, but were still classed as a sub-human species. It may have taken the Marriage Law to upset the people, but Vivianna had always known the Ministry's true colours. She was just glad that everyone else was starting to see it too.

For a moment a slight smile had quirked from Alexander's list when Vivianna had pointed out the obvious that the Ministry wouldn't call her in. He felt a little confused as to why he hadn't thought that himself. Perhaps he had overlooked the Slytherin for being potion obsessed. She had sense, something that, unfortunately, some people in Slytherin house didn't have.

His smile had vanished as the sixth year had gone on to explain how the Ministry would probably call her in at a later date. Would they really do that? It seemed like a cunning thing for them to do, especially if his Mother's article caused a sizable dent to their reputation. Was his Mother aware? Would she lie low and hope the Ministry's issues with her would dissolve? Or would it be wise to continue an all out attack against the changing political regime? Surely if the Ministry did get sick of being shamed in the Prophet they would cart her off to Azkaban. Then if she was sentenced to prison how would the nation take this? As evidence for the Ministry's faults? Or would they hush it up and move to take control of the Prophet to prevent anymore bad press?

A dark eyebrow raised. Vivianna had just confirmed Alexander's theory of overlooking her. He had. She was already against the Ministry, much like Alexander, and judging by her tone she had held that stance for a fair amount of time. It was only the past two or three years Alexander had become more politically minded. Of course he was aiming for a career in the ministry but that didn't mean he necessarily agreed with their policies.

'What is it you don't like about the Ministry?' The older Slytherin asked, 'Besides the marriage law?' Alas. Someone he could have an intellectual discussion with and maybe find out how much time the pureblood would invest into the redhead. Was she a pure blood supremacist? A socialist?