Lapse

[ALL NEW REGISTERED MEMBERS:]

ALL NEW REGISTERED MEMBERS:
 We are currently in manual sorting mode, so after registering please post HERE with the house you wish to be in so admin can place you where you need to be.

   Being the youngest Vector in a family of over achieving children, Wren Vector had a lot to be frustrated about.  She was overlooked and often forgotten about, shoved aside the moment she made bad choices and her achievements weren?t acknowledged.  Her stellar grades and incomparable genius in regards to her schooling (as was common with virtually all Vectors) went unnoticed by her parents, but the paper she held in her hand was sure to gain her all the attention she could have ever asked for if her genetic contributors got a hold of it.  She winced outwardly at the thought of her parents receiving this painful news.  It would mock her and follow her around for the rest of her existence if they got a hold of it.  The most pathetic part of this entire situation was that her family was the cause for such a shameful situation ?the Vector?s family Christmas had served as a painful and motivation killing reminder that Wren was a nobody.  Luckily, Dumbledore had addressed the letter to her guardian and older brother Mathias instead of her (now permanently) estranged parents.

Dear Professor Vector,

Please let it be known that Wren Vector is currently in danger of not passing her current courses:

Ancient Runes
Defence Against the Dark Arts
Potions
Transfiguration

Seeing as she has refused counselling, I ask at this time that you review the consequences of improper studying and lack of concentration during this valuable year of learning with Miss Vector.

-Albus Dumbledore

   The Gryffindor stared at the letter with a rather hopeless expression as she neared the Arithmancy classroom that more often than not housed her brother.  Never before had Wren gotten a grade so terrible in a single class, let alone all of them in a single term.  She was dedicated, she was thorough and she had never slipped up like this before in her life.  As she opened the door to her brother?s classroom a hot flush crept up her neck and found its way onto her cheeks.  Peering around to see if Mathias was available, her jade green eyes found him sitting behind several tall stacks of paper on his desk.  Meekly, she stepped towards him, clearing her throat as she approached his desk.

   ?Matty, I have.. uh.. something I need you to sign off on for Dumbledore.?  Wren managed to squeak out, cursing herself mentally at her pathetic tone of voice.  Great, now he?d know something was up.  ?It?s nothing really, I promise.?

   With a slightly shaking hand, she tried to smooth out the letter she?d inadvertently crumpled in her nervous fist and slid it across the desk towards him.

   ?Before you say anything, I promise I?ll do better.  The whole Christmas with the family thing got to me, but I?m over it.?  Tugging at the hem of her grey fitted t-shirt, she unceremoniously swallowed the lump in her throat and shuffled over to the desk closest to Mathias?s, sat down, and smacked her forehead against it.  A dull thud sounded throughout the classroom as a sharp pain shot through her skull.  Groaning, she stared at the wood surface and prayed the unforgiving gods for a small ounce of pity and to save her from one of Mathias Vector?s painfully long lectures about academic responsibility.  Not that she was entirely sure that sort of lecture even existed in Matty?s repertoire, but she wouldn?t put it past him.

   ?My grades are supposed to suck when my mommy and daddy don?t love me, right??  Came her voice, muffled by the mere fact she was talking to the top of the desk.  ?I?m not broken?  Maybe I?m broken.  Maybe I?m desperately seeking negative attention because I don?t get any positive attention at home.  I?m a textbook case of not getting enough hugs as a child.?

   Wren chewed her lip for a second, realizing her attempt at mild humour was probably more honest than she would have liked.  She finally pulled her head up and looked at her brother, an obvious red mark on her forehead from where it had made contact with the desk moments before.  Studying the lines in his face, the girl decided he was doing one of his unreadable expressions again.  Or maybe her mind was just flustered.

   ?Please say something so I can stop talking.?

Matt only wished that the summer would hurry up, it was only January, but it was late January... couldn't it be May soon? He was jotting down an adjustment to his sixth year class plan, given they were a little behind where he expected to be right now. His quill was an old one and dribbling a few thin drops of black ink on the parchment, he adjusted his glasses as he tried to decide which lectures he would condense this year. The chalkboard behind him was still covered in arithmancing of innumerable sorts. It was the seventh year Arithmancy, the lack of interest meant that all the houses were in one class and things were moving quite quickly. He wasn't the best teacher, but seventh year, when they were all really quick on the draw even he had to admit he enjoyed himself quite a bit. Yes, he liked talking to smart people, Merlin, he was such a Vector.

The excitement from his winning the Pythagoras Prize was finally starting to wind down, which he couldn't be happier about. Sure it was great to get nerd fan mail, and go down in history and crap, but he really just wanted to get back down to crunching numbers. And plan his awesome Asian university tour. He had barely had time to travel since getting his new job, so trotting out the numbers he had devised internationally made him giddy with delight. He was still trying to sneak in touristy time amid all of his academic commitments.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door opened, he glanced upwards, momentarily over his glasses before sliding them up his face, so that he was actually seeing and not just pointing his eyes in a particular direction. It was Wren. The look on her face would have suggested the death of a family member, were their family not so estranged and dysfunctional one could only hope to god that at least a few of the bastards would drop dead soon.

His sister was flushed scarlet, and rather than her usual dominance of any room she entered, Wren seemed to be trying to occupy as little space as possible. Her voice was thin and strangled as she started to disjointedly explain herself, before decidedly collapsing at one of his student's desks and letting her head hit it with a resonating thud. Matt stood up slowly and leaned against one of the desks nearby in case she tried to maim herself again. She was speaking now, and the words were cascading. He slowly slipped the paper out from between her fingers and scanned the words as she continued to haggardly explain herself.

'In danger of not passing' stuck out, and a list of more than one class, leave it to his boss to say not 'failing' but going for a more 'positive' approach. It was almost like a guilt trip for all the students he had failed in his years here. Worst of all though Matt understood what Wren was feeling right now. Not exactly, but it was like needing glasses, maybe it wasn't your fault, maybe it was, but failure was absolutely never tolerated. Ever. And it was weird, because as much as Matt hated that, hated them for forcing that into his brain, he was still battling the stern disappointment that always greeted him when he had been declared substandard. He hated himself for it, for the idea that Wren should have to be perfect too. Fuck it, this wasn't the most important thing right now. But he found himself staring at her blankly, what did he have to to with this. Another skimming of the paper indicated to was addressed to him.

It took him a few minutes, but he crouched down to the floor, so that his long, stringy physique was at eye level with Wren, his olive eyes scanning her jade ones. Wren's were wild with anticipation of some kind of retribution. He held in a sigh, and extremely uncharacteristically gave his sister a hug. Matt rarely even made eye contact, so a hug, probably came as as much of a surprise to the professor as it did to his sister. He released her very quickly, but didn't stand up right away, still looking very closely at her "Look," he said, a little impatient in his voice, but more because it was a struggle to find words, his smile lopsided. "It's been a tough month, I understand. It's okay to fuck up a little. Besides we can still fix this. I'll sign, but we're going to have to have a chat first."

Matt straightened, holding the paper hostage. God, if any of the others knew. Matt didn't even know where to start.

   The brunette watched warily as her brother crouched down beside the desk she had set herself at.  She tried hard not to look flustered, desperate not to give away how destroyed she felt, but the Gryffindor was finding it hard to fake a steady gaze.  Surely there were tons of children out there with parents who didn?t love them -children who managed to be successful and not let that lack of affection act as an atomic bomb dropping on their genius.  Matt, for example, had recently proven just how easy it was to be a winner when you didn?t let things get to you.  Why was she so soft?  Why couldn?t she be like her siblings, able to detach themselves from emotions and strive for insanely epic acheivements?  Her momentarily steady gaze faltered.

Damn it.

   Wren went to open to her mouth to say something (though she wasn?t sure what, exactly, she had planned on saying) just as Matty wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a brief hug.  The girl froze in his grasp, shocked that this sort of physical contact was even permitted between Vectors that weren?t Danika and Archie.  Vectors didn?t hug.  They shook hands.  They patted backs.  They kneed groins when the occasion allowed.  Hugs were so rare within the Vector line that Wren couldn?t even recall the last time she?d ever been held by anyone. 

Oh god, had she never been hugged?  Or maybe hugs were just a sign of weakness and false affection and therefore quickly removed from memory after they happened. 

Just as she tried to relax and ease her way into the embrace of her brother, it ended, saving her from the trauma that would have to go along with trying to figure out how you reciprocated a hug.  Wren looked at her brother quizzically but made no move to ask him what had just happened.

?Matty you don?t have to sit me down and baby me, I?m not a little kid.?  She protested at the suggestion of a talk.  Talks meant one of two things: lectures or feelings.  Wren wasn?t a major fan of either.  Both were painful and time consuming and the girl wasn?t sure she had the ability to hold herself together if Matty started talking about their family and Wren?s lack of ability to be who they expected of her.  ?I?m only going to chat if you keep this clinical and cold.?

Shifting in her seat, she sighed, blowing her breath upwards so it kicked up her bangs.  Anxiety hit the pit of her stomach like a rock as she started mentally listing all the way this ?chat? could go, and every direction was worse than the next.  She looked uncomfortable and antsy, unsure what to do with her hands and her eyes.  Her fingers tangled themselves together, then went to play with her pant leg before finding their way into her hair.  Her eyes darted from the floor to the surface of the desk and then to Matty once more.

?No feelings, promise?  Lecture me all you want about the Vector name and how it must be upheld with due diligence yadda yadda but don?t start asking me how I feel.?  She demanded, finally finding her mental footing once more after a long bout of fumbling around.  ?You can even start quoting dad if you want, I won?t punch you I promise.?

Wren managed a half smile in her brothers direction, but it dropped from her face as quickly as it had appeared.

?I am sorry, though.  Please don?t let anyone know about this, I don?t think I can possibly be disowned anymore than I already am but I?m sure mommy dear would find a way.?

“Wren,” he frowned smartly, the hug causing him as much if not more psychological trauma than it had caused her. “If you want the note signed I get a talk, this is how it works when I get power to abuse. I bore you to death.” She wanted him to be clinical and cold, as if that would be a problem for her older socially incompetent brother. Though to say any Vector had skills with things as troublesome as feelings would be a stretch. The hug had been weird, he concluded, but oddly she hadn’t kicked his head off, maybe that was a good sign. At least his little sister had stopped beating her face on the desk. The last thing he needed was to explain this to Poppy down in the Hospital Wing.

He took a deep breath, now that he had committed to a talk he had no idea what to say. Wren was looking like a very awkward combination of defiant and pitiful, as if she was looking to fight what he presumed was shame. It must be tough to know that you’re smart as hell but not be able or willing to show it. He didn’t really want to talk about feelings, he didn’t want to talk about anything, really, but being given some kind of responsibility it felt like something he was expected to do. Like some sort of older brother, authority figure type duty that he wasn’t sure he could handle. He stood to his full height and wandered back to his desk to find a quill, and maybe what it was he wanted to say.

Leaning against his desk, still blanking as to how to impart some sort of elder brother wisdom he sighed. “Okay, you got me,” he rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “I don’t really want to talk at all,” he paused for a beat before continuing. “If I didn’t suck at this I’d probably want to tell you that I understand, but that I want you to do better. And I’d probably make some sort of disappointed tutting noises, I can do almost a perfect impression of mum when I’m drunk.” He turned around looking for a quill, somehow deciding that signing such a form in pencil was improper.

“But, again, supposing the case where I wasn’t a shitty brother,” locating a fairly splintered quill and a bottle of ink. “I’d probably already know that you are more then capable of beating yourself up over something stupid like this.” The ink in the bottle was dried to a disc of plastic-like goo. “So, I guess, the only thing that I want to know,” he fumbled around the desk looking for another bottle of ink, wondering why he carried around the stupid dried up one anyways. “Is why you let this happen. I’m crap at reading people, but I can tell by looking at you that not only did you not mean for this to happen, but that you’re beating yourself up because it has happened. So at least give me a hint.” An afterthought. “And even if you lie I’m probably too daft to know the difference.”

A bottle of red ink had surfaced, not surprisingly, he failed people with gusto using such ink. His eyes scanned the note again as he waited for Wren to reply. Cap secure he shook the bottle of ink and opened it. He hunched over to write his neat, level signature on the page. One Albus would be familiar with by now no doubt. Though he held onto the note to himself, it was kind of like being the older brother again. All he had to do was hold the note over his head and she would never get it. Unless she kicked him in the shins, but he suspected that suspension from school and being sent back to mum and dad (she couldn’t live with him if she was being suspended) would be enough to, for the first time in his life, stay the physical violence of his siblings. He made a strange face.

“Spit it out, Wren,” he frowned. “Or the note is mine,” he avoided using his trump card, owling said note to mum and dad. He knew even if she beat him halfway to death with a 2x4 it was unlikely that he would go that far.

Wren's face contorted into a very unattractive grimace at the question.  Why she let this happen? Merlin, that was a loaded question.  It had so many answers that the Gryffindor wasn't entirely sure she was even mentally capable of being aware of all of them.  She gnawed on her bottom lip, drawing blood before she realized what she was doing.  Letting a huff of breath escape her now mutilated mouth, Wren stared her brother dead in the eyes.

Lying actually seemed like a brilliant idea, and heavens knew Wren could deceive and whip up fabrications like no one ever before.  In fact, the girl was so loose with her morals when it came to the truth that it was almost a surprise that she even momentarily considered the truth from time to time.  Her gaze didn't shift from his, but her insides twisted in a way that let her know that she wasn't getting out of this with at least an ounce of honestly.  Besides, this was Matt.  The truth didn't give him any more to hold against her than fiction, so lying was just a waste of creative juices.

"I got distracted.  I got all wrapped up in that pretentious display of hell that went on in the family estate during Christmas.  All I could think about was how I was expected to be like them and how that thought made me sick to my stomach.  Then I realized that they're all successful and accomplished and maybe I should be like that.  Where I'm standing right now, right here, my grades could be good or bad and I'm not going anywhere because despite it all I have a heart or something.  I can't be backstabbing and flush whatever morals I do have down the loo."  She dropped her gaze to the desk and swallowed past the lump forming in her throat.

Goddamnit, if you cry Wren Vector, you're obligated to toss yourself off the top of the castle.

"What's going to happen to me when I'm done here, Matt? I don't have my inheritance.. I don't have any plans.. I have no where to go.  Also, maybe I feel like I deserve a family. A real one. You deserve one, too."

The brunette let out a sigh and took a second to pull herself back together.  The truth, while probably more helpful in this situation, hurt a lot more to explain than a lie ever could.  Ugh, why were humans given feelings.

"Can I go now."

Matt smiled weakly as she suggested that he deserved a better family. Maybe he did, and maybe he didn't, but the fact of the matter was that, hate them as he did, all he has was the Vectors. He had never really considered what his life would have been like with nurturing parents, and siblings who didn't abuse him. No doubt his life would be completely different, but would he be different. Matt considered that the more important answer. He may not have liked his upbringing, or his family, but he certainly, at least at this point in his life, liked himself. And that was enough for right now, he didn't want it all. Just enough to be happy.

Being eight years older than Wren, he actually remembered when she was born. The memory itself was a little hazy, and at the time his interest in the whole thing had been Danika levels of apathy. Another sibling. Great, between the older two who bullied him, and the howling toddler that was Isaac, the eight year old Matt had had just about enough family for one life time. And yet, mum had brought home another baby girl. The only girl other than the extremely vain Danika, who was 12 or 13 or something and at Hogwarts. He was pretty sure Archie would have been at Hogwarts at this point too, but the numbers weren't adding up, so maybe he was just out with his friends all the time or something.

Matt may have been opposed to the loud Isaac, but his quieter little sister (relative to her age of course) had been one he didn't usually mind babysitting. Not a big diapers fan, he could usually get the house elf to take care of that part of the babysitting duty. And from that point on she had grown on him as the only family member who didn't drive him insane. Sure they had had a row or two in their time, but never like the catastrophic battles that were ongoing between him and Archie. As she got older, maybe around his 3rd or 4th year he owled her from time to time, just so she wouldn't feel completely abandoned.

He had tried to keep this going into her Hogwarts days, but mum had completely cut off his letters as soon as he had landed in America, and from across an ocean there was not much at all that he could do about the mandatory disconnect. It was weird, the only family he really felt like he had was Wren, and he didn't even find that problematic. He felt closer to Pierre's family than to his own, but then, the von Triers loved to adopt pseudo children.

“You don't need to worry about me, you're basically all I want out of a family.” he put the note on the desk in front of her. “As to what you're going to do,” he stopped for a minute and thought. All anyone wanted out of the Vectors it seemed was some highly impressive unstoppable achievement. He had sort of found his by a fluke. But no one ever asked what the Vectors wanted to do. Matt suspected if he hadn't been good at arithmancy his parents would have put a stop to his doing it. “As to your inheritance, and what you want to do, I don't think you're going to have a particularly hard time doing what you want in the field that you want. I'm guessing you don't know what that is, and that's fine, we'll think of something. If you don't find something straight away you can stay at the flat in Manchester while I'm at Hogwarts until you do. I'm not going to let you be homeless.” He rubbed his eyes under his glasses before continuing. “Growing up a Vector is traumatic, and I'll bet its worse for you than it was for me, but I'm confident you're going to both pick up these marks and find something that you want to do when you're done. So much so that I am entrusting you with me flat.” He laughed hoarsely. Damn cigarettes.

He smiled a bit more – cheeky this time. “Though really, Wren, Defence Against the Dark Arts, isn't that supposed to be your speciality up in Gryffindor Tower. That's what I hear from your housemates all the time. They have no time for numbers since they're out slaying dragons.”