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Unstoppable	By : Thunderbird Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 14476 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any affiliated characters. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
A/N: Thank you as always for the reviews. I liked to how much you like Teddy, because I love writing him!
Things went a little off the map with this chapter. I've got this whole thing planned to the end, or so I thought, but sometimes characters do what they want and not what I expect, as is the case here. Oh well. For now, I'm choosing to trust them.
Chapter 13: The Bully
(Vesper)

“Guess what, Little Kitty?”
Vesper closed the door of her locker with a slam and continued to stare at it, refusing to look at the source of the voice, though he was standing close.
“What, Dempsey?” she asked tightly. She knew she should have stuck to keeping her things in the women’s locker room down the hall. She had a lot more privacy there. But this was just so convenient, as it was attached to the Auror training room, and even though it was coed provided separate bathrooms and private changing rooms, which was really all she needed. The downside, of course, was that it meant she shared a locker room with Chadwick Dempsey.
“I checked the roster. Weasley’s finally put us together. We duel this afternoon.”
Vesper took a moment to absorb that, then finally did look at Dempsey. He was leaning against the locker on one shoulder, his dark eyes glinting and his mouth twisted in a familiar sneer.
“Good,” she said. “I’ve been hoping for this.”
“Me too,” he said. “I’ve wanted this for such a long time.”
Vesper sighed. “I don’t know why you would. You do realize I’m going to destroy you, right?”
He didn’t scoff or laugh derisively, nothing she expected. He barely moved, his mouth twitching in a half smile. “It’s cute, you know, the way you think winning a couple of competitions means you can beat me.”
“A couple of competitions?” Vesper said, unable to help herself. She knew he was goading her, but it was impossible not to respond. “I was nationally ranked by the age of eighteen. And I’ve been the UK’s Grand Champion for the past three years. Whereas you…” She looked him up and down. “With captain of the dueling club at Hogwarts as your claim to fame? That’s cute. That’s freaking adorable.”
His eyes narrowed. “You know, boasting is hardly attractive for a woman. You should be careful with that.”
“Thanks for the tip,” she replied coolly. “Since that’s my main goal in life, to make sure you find me attractive.”
His eyes raked over her, feeling as invasive as hands would have been. “Well, I wouldn’t kick you out of bed, that I’ll admit. You’re not pretty, you know, but you’re still decent to look at. And I can’t help but think you’ve got staying power. Stamina, if you know what I mean.”
Vesper’s face twisted in disgust, but it didn’t deter him.
“I bet you could go all night, if a man knows how to push your buttons.”
“Though that man will never be you,” she replied flatly.
“Oh, I don’t know.” He leaned in, and Vesper bristled at the proximity, in spite of herself. “It depends on the way we fight, I think. If we fight hard and hot, then we’ll probably fuck hard and hot, too, don’t you think?”
“In your dreams, Dempsey.”
His chuckle was dark and foreboding in her ear. “Oh, absolutely. How did you know? Been using Legilimency on me, you sneaky little thing? I might just repay the favor.”
Vesper’s whole body tensed, her stomach twisting. That thought terrified her more than she cared to admit. She’d never been very good at Occlumency. She clenched her hands to keep them from shaking. “Back off,” she growled at him, once she had found her voice. “Back the fuck off before I hex you into next week.”
“Oh, I’d like to see you try.” Dempsey’s tone went from lecherous to vicious in an instant, and Vesper realized that she found this as discomfiting as the rest of it. “You are such a smug little cunt, aren’t you? It’s about time someone put you in your place.” He was right up against her, his voice barely audible now.
“Dempsey!” someone barked behind them, and Vesper turned to see Declan standing there, arms crossed and looking much like Ron did when he was displeased. He was glaring at Dempsey. “Save it for the dueling floor. That is, if you think you can handle it.”
Dempsey smirked at him. “Oh, I’ll handle it all day, I promise.” He lifted himself off the locker, gave Vesper a wink, and sauntered off.
“You ok?” Declan asked her.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
He watched her for a moment, then nodded. “Teach him a lesson, would you? He needs one, desperately.”
It was Vesper’s turn to smirk. “Trust me, I plan to.”
Once all the trainees had gathered in the dueling room, Ron picked out which pairs would duel first. He usually only had two or three pairs duel at a time, so that the others had the benefit of watching and observing technique.
“All right,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s have… Abernathy and Carlisle, Morgan and Green, and… Kemp and Dempsey.”
Vesper let out a heavy breath. Yes. She wanted to go first. She wanted this now. Her body was humming with it, with the words Dempsey had muttered in her ear, with the way he looked at her, derisive and lustful all at once, with the way he made her feel, the power he thought he had over her.
No more.
All three pairs got into position, spreading out so they had room to move and could be seen by the other trainees, Ron, and Ron’s teaching assistant, Gerald Weekes. Vesper turned to face Dempsey, bowing as she was always taught to do. Dempsey somehow managed to bend his body without conceding anything, without showing her slightest ounce of respect, but she didn’t care. He would respect her someday. She would make him.
“And…” Ron said, checking one last time that they were all in position. “Begin.”
Vesper didn’t wait even a second to throw her first spell, a Stinging Hex that Dempsey, to her chagrin, mostly managed to dodge. It caught his hand, though, and he winced before firing back a spell immediately, which Vesper blocked, sidestepping so she could throw three more hexes, two to distract and a third to stun. Luckily the Stretching Jinx hit its mark, and Dempsey’s head pelted towards the ceiling as his legs and torso elongated. Even as a larger target he still managed to sidestep her stunner though, stumbling a little but recovering enough to throw up a shield so he could figure out how to shrink back to his original size.
Vesper started throwing everything she could at the shield, but nothing would penetrate, and she growled deep in her throat in annoyance. Dempsey was a better duelist than she thought.
“Do something, Kemp,” she heard Ron say from the sidelines. “Remember what you’ve learned.”
Right, the Shield-Shatterer. They had learned this only recently. She’d never done it before in competitions, because it was immensely hard and required the gathering and expulsion of a lot of magical power. But, if Dempsey was going to cower behind his shield, as powerful as it was, what other choice did she have?
She concentrated, keeping her eyes on Dempsey and the shimmering wall in front of him. This would be easier if she could close her eyes, but she couldn’t give him that advantage.
She gathered from her core, imagining the power growing inside her, ready to be unleashed at any moment. When she thought she couldn’t gather any more, she raised her wand, pointing it at Dempsey.
“Parma Discutio!” she shouted, and a violently white light erupted from her wand, heading straight towards Dempsey.
But he had been anticipating it, and had apparently spent his time behind the shield coming up with a counter-attack, because just as the spell was about to hit he shattered his shield himself. The spells collided and a powerful wave of magic swept through the room. The observers ducked out of its way, but Vesper had been right in its path, too close to react, and it overtook her, filling her ears with a deafening burst of static and knocking her to the ground.
What the hell? she thought as she tried her damndest to reorient herself. How the hell did he do that?
But she had no time to think more about it, because Dempsey was apparently unaffected, and was now firing spells at her while she lay on the ground. She rolled over, avoiding what looked like an Instant Scalping Hex, and scrambled to her feet quickly, but not before Dempsey managed to hit her with something else.
A Fire-head Curse. Vesper screamed, in spite of herself. She’d never experienced this firsthand before, but it burned, not on her skin, but inside her head, like her brain was going to melt. She heard shouting, although she didn’t know who it was, or why.
She quickly cast the Cool-head counter-curse and stood, her eyes blazing. Now she was pissed. How dare he use that on her? It was out of line, against the rules, and he was going to pay.
Fast as lightning she fired off three spells, anything she could think of in the heat of the moment. She kept them non-verbal; it was always faster that way, and she didn’t want Dempsey to see it coming. He was going to suffer, and not even know how he got there. She dodged and fired, dodged and fired, so fast that Dempsey’s eyes were darting everywhere, trying to block them all. But a look of panic was starting to grow on his face. He was hardly firing off any spells of his own now, only trying to avoid hers as she stung him all over his hands and arms, made pus start pouring out of his nose, and caused his whole lower body to inflate. She smirked. She had him now. But how to finish him?
A well-placed Orbis Jinx had him sinking into the floor, and it swallowed him up until only his shoulders, neck, and head remained. Somewhere, above the roar in her ears, there was someone shouting her name, but she ignored it. This was it, what she wanted. The chance to show him what she was made of once and for all. She had to make sure it was memorable.
She raised her wand, but was suddenly blown off her feet and back by what she had to assume was a Knockback Jinx. But who had thrown it? Dempsey’s wand and hands were trapped inside the floor; it couldn’t have been him. Dazed, she shook her head and sat up, only to come face to face with Ron Weasley staring down at her with a livid expression.
“Get up,” he said. His voice was quiet but remarkably dangerous.
Vesper shook herself, confused. It wasn’t until she stood and looked around that she realized everyone was staring at her, wide-eyed.
What? she wanted to say to the room at large. He deserved it.
But Ron was looking at her in such a way that she knew saying that now would be incredibly stupid.
Had she screwed up here? Her heart was still hammering so hard she could hear it in her ears, a combination of adrenaline and residual anger making her twitchy. She had done what she had to do, hadn’t she? She had to show Dempsey that he couldn’t mess with her anymore. Didn’t Ron get that?
Out of the corner of her eye she could see Weekes bending over Dempsey. He’d been pulled out of the floor but was still covered in stings, which Weekes was working to heal with his wand. Her stomach lurched. Dempsey didn’t look so good, and she had done that to him.
He deserved worse, said a voice in her head, and the flavor of that thought: dark and bitter, like burnt toast, disturbed her.
“You,” Ron said, pointing at her, his suppressed rage never wavering for a moment, “and you.” He turned to a now-healed Dempsey, who was glaring at Vesper mutinously. “Come with me. Now.” He looked at Weekes. “You good to cover here? I’ve got to have a chat with these two idiots.”
Vesper winced. That stung, especially coming from Ron. She’d never, ever thought he would think such a thing of her.
They followed Ron all the way to his office in silence, both of them refusing to look at each other.
Fuck, Vesper thought. What was Ron going to do?
They arrived at his office and he opened it, gesturing them inside, his expression cold. He closed the door behind him and then turned to face them, crossing his arms over his chest and looking from one of them to the other. The silence dragged on.
“What the bloody hell is wrong with the two of you?” Ron asked finally, his voice surprisingly calm.
Both of them burst into talking at once.
“It’s not my fault she’s insane-”
“He used a prohibited curse on me-”
“Apparently all she knows is Stinging Hexes-“
“What was I supposed to do-“
“She should be locked up-“
“I was just defending myself-“
“Shut. The fuck. Up,” Ron said, his deep voice cutting across their arguments and silencing them. “The both of you.” He looked at each of them again. “I honestly haven’t seen this kind of petty rivalry or infighting since my Hogwarts days. You know, back when I was fifteen and there was a war on, and we actually had something real to fight about. But this…”
Vesper clenched her jaw to keep herself from opening her mouth and arguing again. The mature, adult part of her knew this was the only smart thing to do. But there was another part that was screaming loudly in her head.
It’s not fair! He started it!
“I don’t expect you to like each other. I don’t care if you do. I don’t care if you’re friends or if you hate each other’s bloody guts. But I expect you to behave like professionals. This job is literally life or death. If you can’t manage to get along with your colleagues well enough to trust they won’t hex you when your back is turned, then you have no business being here. We have to be a team. We have to trust each other. And I would expect the two of you, who are among the best in your class, to model that for the rest of the trainees.”
That brought Vesper up short. Dempsey was one of the best in the class? Since when?
“Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Vesper said softly, while next to her Dempsey mumbled the same.
“Look at me.”
Vesper lifted her eyes to see Ron watching her, his face pure stone.
“If I see anything like that again, anything, you’re out. There will not be another warning.”
Vesper swallowed. He was serious. He wasn’t going to shield her, apparently. Not from this. Ron turned his head to look at Dempsey.
“We don’t fuck around, and we don’t attack, harass, abuse, or humiliate each other. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” they both said again.
“I can’t believe I even have to bloody explain this to you, but here we are. Now…” He took a deep breath. “I have a few things to say to each of you in private. Kemp, I’ll take you first. Dempsey, wait outside.”
Dempsey turned to go without another word, and soon Vesper and Ron were alone. There was an extended silence in which Ron went around behind his desk and leaned on his hands against it, staring at the patterns in the wood.
“I’m sorry,” Vesper said.
Ron let out a long, loud breath. “What happened, Vesper?”
“I didn’t mean for it to go that far. It just… he’s…” How did she explain all this without sounding like a whiny brat, a tattle-tale? “He says things to me. Stuff… sexual stuff, sometimes. And sometimes it’s just mean. But it gets under my skin. I can’t help it. He just… knows the right buttons to push.”
Ron sighed. “And so your way to handle it is to decide to duel him into mush?”
“What would you have me do? Let him walk all over me?”
“I would expect you to come to me directly, tell me what’s going on.”
Vesper scoffed. “Yeah, that will go over well with the guys, me running to teacher every time they hurt my feelings.”
“Sweet Merlin, Vesper…” Ron rubbed a hand over his eyes. “I don’t know how you got it into your head… this isn’t Hogwarts, or Ilvermorny, and we’re not teenagers anymore. This isn’t some arsehole pulls a prank on you in Care of Magical Creatures and you retaliate to put him in his place. This isn’t… just last week you were complaining to me about how this place feels like a boy’s club and there’s unfair hazing and…” He sighed again. “But you’re here, buying into it, participating, instead of trying to break the cycle and actually get the hazing to stop. I want to help you, but I can’t help if you don’t talk to me about things.”
“I get that,” Vesper said. “But I really think it will be better in the long run if I handle this myself.”
“Oh, really? Well, if this is your version of ‘handling it,’ then you won’t last long.” He was looking directly at her now, his eyes hard and glinting. “You see, there’s this little thing we have to worry about called excessive force, which we can never use on a suspect and which we sure as hell can never use on each other. We do what’s necessary to take down the perp, but not any more than that, otherwise things get tricky when the case goes to trial. We have to be careful. We have to control ourselves.”
“I have control. I knew what I was doing.”
“Did you?” His expression had now taken on one of angry skepticism. “Because from where I was standing, it looked like you were about ready to remove a limb. You think that’s control?”
“I just wanted to scare him-“
“Bloody hell, Vesper, have you not been listening? It doesn’t fucking matter what you were trying to do; you were crossing a line and everyone could see it. And I can’t protect you from something like this. Not only would that kind of favoritism lose me credibility with all of my other trainees, it would likely cost me my job.” He turned away from her for a moment, and she felt the first stirrings of shame. “I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you but get it together. I need to know that you have better control than this. I need to know that if it came to confronting a suspect, you wouldn’t pull anything like that again.”
“I wouldn’t,” Vesper insisted. “It’s just… something about Dempsey, ok?”
Ron shook his head. “That doesn’t help me. That doesn’t make me trust you.”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Vesper said, aware that her voice had gone shaky. “You don’t know what it feels like, to feel like someone’s breathing down your neck, waiting for you to screw up, putting all his energy into making you miserable…”
Ron snorted, turning back to her. “You think I don’t know a thing or two about being bullied? I know plenty.”
She stared at him, dumbfounded. “You were bullied?” She couldn’t imagine that. Ron was… not huge, exactly, but certainly physically intimidating. And he seemed so… confident, comfortable in his own skin. Perhaps when she had first met him, right before he graduated from Hogwarts, he wasn’t quite like that. He was thinner then, at least. But he was also already a war hero with an Order of Merlin and a guaranteed spot at the Auror Academy.
“In school, yeah, I was. Excessively. I mean, some of it wasn’t a big deal, like my brothers. They didn’t exactly help my confidence or anything, but I knew they cared about me. But there were others… there were people for whom tormenting me was their all-time favorite sport. Maybe second only to tormenting Harry. My family didn’t have a lot of money, you see. And I was already gangly and fairly awkward. And it was a different time, politically, and since I was a blood traitor whose best friend was a Mudblood…”
Vesper flinched at the word. She couldn’t believe that word was still being used even five years ago. It had long since been considered unacceptable in the States, but they had a very different viewpoint on no-majs and no-maj-borns. “What did you do?”
“I fought, I cast hexes, some of which backfired spectacularly.” An amused expression actually crossed his face for a moment before quickly fading. “I tried to ignore it, when I could, but I… I was very sensitive to it. It bothered me back then, what people thought of me. Even Slytherin prats like Draco Malfoy.”
“Draco? He was the one bullying you?”
Ron gave her a surprised look. “He was the worst. Most of the Slytherins were bad, but they had nothing on him. Surely you knew some of that already.”
Vesper had heard reference to it. Draco mentioned it himself, once in a blue moon. But she couldn’t imagine it. She couldn’t reconcile sweet, considerate, good-natured Draco with someone who would torment you if you didn’t have a lot of money or hung around with Muggleborns. “I just can’t picture it.”
Ron chuckled. “No, I suppose not. He changed, of course. He’s basically become a different person. I mean, you can see some of the old threads of his personality in there. He’s still a bloody snob.” But Ron grinned as he said this, and Vesper figured he was mostly joking. “Falling in love with Harry changed him completely. Or maybe the war had already changed him somewhat. I don’t know. The point is, it got better for me. But not just because Draco got better. In fact, that had really nothing to do with it.”
Vesper nodded, catching on. “You changed, is what you’re saying.”
“I grew up,” Ron said. “And grew into myself. I stopped worrying about what most people thought and started worrying instead about being who I needed to be for the people I loved.” He licked his lips. “I’m not trying to tell you who you should be, Vesper. But… well, honestly, I don’t think I could have figured it all out on my own. If I didn’t have Harry and Hermione… I think when you have the right people in your life, they teach you to be better. Hermione was so good about transcending all the bullying, all the slurs on her blood status and the pettier stuff, like the way she looked, like her hair and her teeth.” His softened with the memory of it for a moment. “And Harry showed me how to be less selfish, to think of others, to do the right thing even when it would hurt me or make people dislike me. It wasn’t that they didn’t care about me. Just the opposite. They wanted me to grow; they wanted me to be happy. So…” He turned to look at her. “I’m going to say this, because you’re my friend, and I care about you, and I think you could be a bloody brilliant Auror. But you have to grow up and get control of yourself, before this all falls apart.”
Vesper stared at him, absorbing that. It would have been condescending coming from someone else, or if Ron hadn’t just shared all that he had shared. But he was trying to tell her… how alike they were, maybe. He was trying to tell her that this was important.
She knew he was right. She had crossed a line. But there was more to it than that, and she didn’t know how to explain it. She couldn’t, because it meant explaining things that she kept strictly to herself, things that no one else knew, not even Blaise, or Harry, or Draco.
“I hear you,” she said finally.
Ron was watching her carefully, and she found that she had to look away.
“If there’s something else, something I should know… You know you can tell me anything, right, and I would keep it confidential.”
Vesper swallowed, her throat suddenly acidic. She shook her head. “No, there’s nothing.”
Ron snorted delicately. “All right. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I know women like their secrets.”
That made Vesper turn back to him. His tone had been playful, but still, it was an odd thing to say. “Where did that come from?” she asked.
Ron stilled, looking down at his desk. “Nothing.” He shook his head.
“Now who’s keeping secrets?” Vesper said with a smirk, glad to have something to distract her from her thoughts.
Ron rolled his eyes. “I’m not keeping secrets.”
Vesper made a skeptical noise.
“It’s Hermione,” Ron said with a sigh. “She’s keeping something from me, but I don’t know what.”
Vesper raised her eyebrows, surprised. “How can you tell?”
Ron shrugged. “I’ve known her for over half my life. I just… know.”
“Is it something… bad?”
“I think it would have to be, for her to keep it from me.”
“Do you think she’s…?” Vesper didn’t really want to ask this, and maybe she shouldn’t, she realized, but then Ron finished it for her.
“Cheating on me? No. I don’t think it’s that. I don’t think she would ever do that, for one thing. And things between us seem really good. She seems genuinely happy to be with me. Plus we’re…” He rubbed the back of his neck, his face turning pink, and Vesper was surprised to see he was actually fighting back a smile. “Well, to be honest, we’re… having a lot of sex. A hell of a lot. More than I thought humanly possible, in fact.”
Vesper couldn’t help it; she started laughing. Ron glanced at her, a somewhat sheepish grin forming on his face.
“Don’t tell anyone I’m telling you this,” he said.
“I won’t. I promise,” she replied.
“Anyway, I just figure… I don’t see how it’s possible that she could be sleeping with someone else. I don’t know where she’d get the time or the energy.”
Vesper chuckled some more, slowly letting it subside. “You have a point,” she said. “So, if things are so good between you, why do you think she’s hiding something?”
“I don’t know how to explain it. I just… when we’re together, she’s so focused on me. She keeps the subject on me. And when it steers back to her… that’s usually when she jumps me. It’s like she’s avoiding something. Or maybe filling a void of some kind… with sex, with me… Like I said I can’t really explain it. It’s just a feeling.”
Vesper thought about that. It didn’t seem to really track for her. When you had a secret, didn’t you usually push people away, rather than pull them closer? Didn’t you try to keep people at a distance, so they couldn’t learn the truth?
“Maybe it’s a good secret, something she’s going to tell you, but just not yet. Like a surprise.”
Ron’s brow furrowed. “A surprise? Like what?”
Vesper had a sudden thought. “What if she’s pregnant?”
“Pregnant?” Ron shook is head. “No, it’s not possible.”
“Why not?”
“She would have told me about it right away, for one thing.”
“Not if she thought you might not react well, or something.”
“There’s no way. She knows that I would be happy. She would never have to worry about something like that.”
“Well, maybe she’s… saving it then. Waiting for the right moment. Or maybe she wants to tell your whole family all at once. A big reveal.”
Ron shook his head. “That’s not how Hermione would handle something like that, trust me.”
“It fits, though. You said you two are having a lot of sex. Apparently an increase in libido can be a side effect. Are there others? Does she get sick unexpectedly? Are her boobs bigger?”
Ron buried his face in his hands. “We’re not having this conversation anymore.”
“She could very well be pregnant, that’s all I’m saying.”
“She’s on the potion,” Ron countered. “She takes it religiously.”
Vesper huffed. It was true that the potion was very reliable, more than contraceptive charms, mostly because the latter was easily forgotten in the heat of the moment.
“Well, I don’t know.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Ron said, lifting his head. “We’ve drifted way too far off the subject.” His look turned knowing, and Vesper gave him a small, guilty smile. “You understand what I expect from you, yes?”
She sighed. “Yes.”
“You won’t take things too far again? And if Dempsey says something inappropriate to you again, you’ll come to me, and let me handle it?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll make sure he understands if he crosses the line again he’s out. If he has any sense at all he’ll keep his mouth shut from now on.”
“You’re relying on him having sense,” Vesper pointed out.
“Yes,” Ron replied. “Don’t I sort of have to?”
Vesper remained silent, conceding the point.
“Very well, that’s all then,” said Ron. “Go back to the training room and tell Dempsey I’m ready for him on your way out, yeah?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Ron.”
He sighed but gave her a wry smile. “You’re bloody welcome.”
Dempsey was pacing the hall when Vesper stepped out of Ron’s office. She was glad to see this, because it occurred to her that he very well could have tried to listen at the door. Maybe Ron’s office had a silencing charm on it that Vesper wasn’t aware of, but it was all the better to see Dempsey had not overheard their conversation.
“Auror Weasley is ready for you,” she said neutrally to him.
He turned to look at her. “What did you say to him?”
“The truth,” she said simply. She tilted her head, goading him. “Does that scare you?”
“Nothing scares me,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “Just go in, Dempsey, and get it over with. It won’t be that bad.”
He frowned, looking confused. “Fine,” he said finally. And with that he disappeared through Ron’s office door.
Weekes was still supervising the dueling when Vesper returned to the training room. Three pairs of trainees were dueling now, with the rest observing while Weekes quizzed them on proper technique. Heads turned to look at Vesper when she entered and she saw a few of them exchange looks, but Ron’s assistant soon called their attention back again.
Vesper sidled up to Declan in what she hoped was an unobtrusive manner, and he glanced sideways at her.
“You’re still here,” he murmured.
“Yes. Barely.”
“I was worried. The look on Weasley’s face. I thought you were toast for sure.”
“Ross! Kemp! Pay attention!” Weekes snapped at them, and they both shut their mouths quickly. Vesper, for her part, wasn’t going to give her teachers any more reason to reprimand her. Only a few more weeks to go, and the training course would be finished. She was determined to graduate, and that meant making sure she didn’t screw up again.
Vesper and Declan were able to resume their conversation at the end of training, Declan clearly eager to hear the details of what Ron had said to both her and Dempsey. As they made their way to the locker room, Vesper filled him in.
When she was finished, he whistled. “You’re right. It was a close one.”
Vesper shrugged. “I shouldn’t have expected any different, I suppose. I was… stupid.”
Declan was eyeing her. “I know the things he says about you. He’s a pig.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not justification for doing what I did. I knew better. Ron has told me before to file a report if I felt Dempsey was out of line and I never did. I didn’t want the mess. I thought I could handle it myself, put him in his place.”
“Well, you certainly did that,” Declan said. “I quite enjoyed the show.”
Vesper smirked, in spite of herself. “I can’t do it again though, or I’ll be kicked out. I’ve got to be careful.”
“But he gave Dempsey a talking to as well, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So at least hopefully he’ll back off.”
“Let’s hope so.”
“If he doesn’t, you tell Weasley.”
“Or maybe just track him down outside of the Ministry and teach him a lesson then. Something he never sees coming.”
Declan’s eyes widened. “You’re terrifying, you know that?”
Vesper laughed. “I’m only kidding.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she insisted.
He leaned in a little. “Too bad,” he said softly. “I happen to like how terrifying you are.”
Vesper felt her face flush. “Then I’ll continue to be terrifying,” she riposted. “But I refuse to be stupid.”
He considered that. “Yes,” he said finally. “That would be for the best.”
“So, I ignore Dempsey. He doesn’t exist. Where he stands is just a void in space to me. When he talks, all I hear is a mild buzzing.”
“You really think you can do that?”
Vesper sighed, then shrugged. “I’ll do what I have to. I’ve worked too hard, right?”
He nodded. “It would be a real shame to let a slug like Dempsey ruin it for you.”
“I agree.” She looked around. They were alone by now. It was the end of the day, and she was ready to head home. “I should change.”
“Have dinner with me,” Declan said suddenly.
She turned back to him, her stomach lurching, though not unpleasantly. “Dinner? When?”
“Tomorrow night. Just you and me, wherever you want.”
She looked up at him: his warm, dark eyes, surrounded by crow’s feet, his small, soft smile. “Sure. But you pick the place. Just nothing too fancy. Low-key. Casual.”
“All right. What time?”
She did some quick calculating in her head. “Pick me up at my house at seven. We’ll go from there.”
“Great, it’s a date.”
“Yes,” she said, her heart thumping heavy and wild in her chest. “It is.”
***
When Vesper returned home that night, feeling strange and floaty, she went through the motions of preparing dinner: grilled chicken, rice, and vegetables, something simple she didn’t have to think much about. Her mind was on Declan, how easy it was to talk to him, share things with him, just… be with him.
She had been resisting the development of their relationship, or, at least, hoping it would move at a pace that resembled that of molasses, or maybe a glacier. But, instead, things seemed to be moving right along, not barreling, exactly, not careening out of control or anything, but progressing forward, one steady step at a time.
This was as much her doing as Declan’s, though he wasn’t helping matters. Because he was just so warm, and open, and easy. In the moment it was always just a simple matter of saying “yes,” and that was such a simple thing to say. It was only later, when she was alone, that the doubts started to creep in. They belonged to her, and her alone, of course, and had very little to do with Declan, and everything to do with everything else.
In order to relax and take her mind off things, Vesper curled up on her her sofa with a blanket to read a book. She was currently working her way through all the major works of Kurt Vonnegut, though it was slow-going because she didn’t have much time or energy to read anymore. She found her current endeavor, Cat’s Cradle, to be a very effective distraction, however, because it was about nothing that resembled her life at all, and made her feel simultaneously nihilistic and giddy in a way she wasn’t used to.
But only a few pages in she was interrupted by an owl tapping at her window, and as she looked up at it her heart sank. She recognized the gray eagle owl immediately.
Blaise’s owl, Tryphena.
With a heavy sigh she let the bird in, and the owl hooted softly at her in greeting and recognition.
“Hey, girl,” she said, giving the feathers atop her head a light stroke. “You have a letter for me?” She’d always liked Tryphena. She was well-trained, patient, and even a little sweet (or, as capable as a bird is of being sweet, at any rate).
The owl held out her leg and Vesper removed the letter, which had been folded elaborately into the shape of a star (unsurprising, given Blaise’s penchant for that sort of thing; he spent as much time on folding his letters as he did on writing the letter itself, it seemed to her). She was going to offer Tryphena a treat, but the owl simply hooted again in goodbye and took off out the window.
So, apparently Blaise wasn’t expecting an immediate response. Vesper couldn’t help but think that that didn’t bode well. She opened the letter.

Dear Vesper,
I’ve rewritten this letter about a dozen times, I think, but this is the last one, I’ve decided. There may just be no perfect way to lay this all out. I just have to accept it. Because what it comes down to is that there are so many things I want to say that I don’t know where to begin. And, even more so, I don’t know if you want to hear them. I had thought perhaps our encounters, such as they were, were putting us on a path towards reconciliation, but I can see now that that was naïve on my part. Please don’t think that I blame you. I don’t. I came to you most of the time, and I never told you why. And we never spoke about what we were. I couldn’t bring myself to. I don’t know why. I suppose I was afraid.
But it’s clear to me now that we will not slip back easily into something naturally as I had hoped. The conclusion that I’ve come to is that the only way through this is to face what happened head on. We need to talk about the things that we have been avoiding for months now, the things we have been avoiding since before the breakup, even. It might not be pleasant, but it is the only way forward.
I don’t know if you are even willing at this point to have this sort of conversation with me. I can only tell you that I am willing. I am more than willing. I very much hope for it, no matter how painful it will be. Whatever keeps me from losing you.
All I ask at this point is that you take some time and consider it. You may reply whenever you’re ready. I will wait.
Yours, always,
Blaise

Vesper, unable to truly absorb the full letter the first time around, read the thing three times more, finally letting herself take it in.
Reconciliation.
If the matter hadn’t been so serious and emotionally fraught she would have snorted in amusement. Of course Blaise would use that word rather than say the more colloquial “get back together.” This whole letter was so very Blaise, in fact, from the slightly formal, yet still warm, language to the stark admissions that left him nothing but vulnerable to however she chose to respond. There was so much of Blaise in it, even the reference to his being naïve, which he was aware he could be when it came to love. It had surprised her in the early days, because he seemed so savvy and shrewd in pretty much everything else. But when it came to matters of the heart, he was, in fact, naïve, inexperienced, and unsure, in the sweetest possible way.
What a great deal of effort and, more importantly, courage, it must have taken to write this. She closed her eyes in gratitude for a moment at the thought of it. She realized she was pressing the letter to her chest, as if she were cradling his head against her heart.
She used to do that, not so long ago.
She could again.
But is that what I want? Is that what’s best for me?
She looked down at the letter again. It was bad timing, considering she just accepted an invitation to what she was sure was intended to be her first romantic outing with Declan, the first step towards something more than friendship. It had been easy, exciting, to accept such an invitation. She wanted to see where it would go.
But the letter could not be ignored. It lived in her already; she could feel it settling into the space between her ribs. She could feel it with every inhale and exhale of her breath.
Blaise had given her time, and that was a gift she had intended to accept. She would need time, before she could decide what to do. It wasn’t just about seeing where things would go with Declan either. Even if he wasn’t in the picture Vesper could not be sure she was prepared to have the kind of conversation Blaise was talking about. It would be, as Blaise had readily admitted, painful.
Vesper was not one to avoid pain at all costs. Pain, in fact, could be a good thing. It made you stronger. All her dueling training had taught her that.
But she would also not endure pain and trial simply for the sake of it. She was no masochist. There had to be a reason, and the reason had to be damn good.
It had to be worth it.
***
All through the following day, whenever there was a spare moment for her mind to drift, Vesper thought of Blaise. She couldn’t help it. His letter was still sitting conspicuously on her kitchen table where she had left it that morning. It was likely now a little grease-stained from the bacon she had been eating while she reread it again over breakfast.
Every time she read it she felt differently about it. The night before it had struck her powerfully, and she’d had a taste of hope, a glimmer of what could be. But she’d also been afraid and unsure of her own ability to meet Blaise’s expectations. By the sober light of morning she’d gone sour on it a little, feeling it lacked the prerequisite amount of feeling to be a true love letter. Once she’d had her coffee, she felt more warmly towards it again, certain phrases jumping out at her and making her heart stutter.
Whatever keeps me from losing you.
I will wait.
Yours, always.
No, it was hardly bursting with excessive adoration or rhapsodies of the depth of his love, but this was Blaise. She would hardly expect it to be.
Coming from Blaise, it was plenty. When you loved a man like him, you learned to read below the surface of things.
Still, her mind was definitely spending a bit too much time on it, considering she had a date with Declan that very night. Luckily, Auror training kept her busy most of the day, and whenever she found herself thinking of Blaise and the letter again, she always had something important in front of her to pull her focus back to.
When she arrived home to get ready for dinner, however, she found it was hard to help the direction of her thoughts. Even as she showered and got ready for her date, she couldn’t help but think back to a different first date over four years ago.
Not that it could really be considered a date, in the strictest sense. Blaise had not asked to attend the Hogwarts graduation after party with her (in fact, she had been asked by a different guy she was seeing at the time, a fact she still felt mildly guilty about, though Anthony had forgiven her long ago). In fact, she and Blaise had had no real communication at all, up to that point, other than a single ten-minute conversation one night in a bar. But, thanks to Harry, she knew Blaise was interested, and when she’d actually arrived at the party, it didn’t take long to gauge that interest for herself and find it quite higher than she expected.
She liked Blaise from the start, especially his voice, the way he talked: dry and flat, but also clear. And the words themselves, the things he would say, were so direct, and yet somehow subtle at the same time. She found herself drawn in by him, how he saw things in a way that was so unlike herself and all the more interesting for it. Blaise was not afraid to have the minority opinion on anything. If he believed something, he would continue to believe it whether or not everyone around him disagreed. He had the courage of his convictions, but he was not rigid. He listened, quite closely in fact. He listened to every word that came out of her mouth.
They’d talked long hours; most of the guests had left and the 7^th and 8^th years had gone off to bed. But they remained on a sofa in the common room until after two in the morning, close, intimate, without actually touching. Vesper had sensed there was a kind of barrier there, that first night, but not out of a lack of desire. If she were to call it anything, it would be propriety, although at the time the idea seemed absurd. It was nearly the twenty-first century, and that couldn’t possibly be a concern anymore. By the end of the night, though, she understood that that was simply Blaise’s way.
She had eventually decided it was time to go home. Blaise was kind enough to offer her his room, since it was so late, claiming he could easily find another empty room from one of his friends, since there were so many couples paired off and sleeping in each other’s beds. Vesper had appreciated the gesture but declined, not wanting to put anyone out and truly wanting to go home to Aurelian’s and the familiarity of her room there.
“In that case,” Blaise had said. “At least let me walk you to Hogsmeade, give you some company.”
She had smiled. “I can take quite good care of myself, you know,” she said. “And I don’t think there will be anyone lurking to try and ambush me anyway.”
“I know that you can take care of yourself,” he had replied. “I just want to spend more time with you.”
She had blushed at that, in spite of herself. Vesper was flirtatious and overly honest about her feelings, she had often been told, but Blaise was a different kind of honest, and she found she liked it.
“In that case, sure.”
They’d talked more on the walk. Vesper didn’t even remember now all that they said to each other. It was likely not particularly important, not that that mattered. They just seemed to like to hear each other speak.
When they arrived at the gate to Hogsmeade, Vesper had suspected that Blaise might try and kiss her. He’d walked her all this way, after all, and he’d made his intentions very clear. But he surprised her yet again. She did receive a kiss, but it was a soft, chaste one to the knuckles of her right hand. Still, it had been nice. It made her shiver pleasantly, even through her confusion.
“I would very much like to see you again,” Blaise said then, his voice low, clear, and sincere. “Can I owl you?”
“I would like that,” she had replied, meaning it. The whole business with almost-touching and the walking and the kissing of the hand all seemed very Austenian, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. But him… well, she liked him a lot.
They’d had a real date not long after that, in which he took her for lunch and then to walk around in one of his favorite gardens. He’d kissed her for the first time under an apple tree that was in full bloom, the fragrance around them as sweet as the kiss itself. The Austen references just kept coming to mind, the way the whole thing felt so much more like courting than dating, but she was already adjusting. He was so pure and focused, so sure in all of it, that it was easy to forget that the rest felt a little old-fashioned.
And besides which, Blaise seemed to grow out of the need to “court” her after a month or two. She wasn’t sure if it was her influence, her unmistakable irreverence, or the fact that he had simply gotten comfortable with her, confident that she wasn’t going to turn him away.
As she went through the routine of drying her hair, picking out her outfit, and putting on a touch of makeup, visions of her relationship with Blaise continued to course through her, blending together but still punctuated with brief little snapshots in which she remembered just about every detail: seeking out Blaise’s face in the audience after her first major victory in the British National Dueling Competition, taking him to the movies for the first time, cooking with him in his kitchen while they listened to Frank Sinatra and drank marsala wine right out of the bottle, salsa dancing until sweat dripped down their backs and their feet ached, and the first time they slept together, which also happened to be the first time she’d truly made him laugh. Not just a soft chuckle or a single, dry bark, but a real laugh, rolling and delighted that came all the way from his gut. She’d never heard a more enchanting sound in her life, and only half an hour later had invited him into her bed.
She had been sure at that point; she had been waiting for it. But he was nervous, and so she had taken the reins, giving him pleasure, showing him how to pleasure her, until he finally forgot himself, got lost in it, and started acting on instinct. She had been happy, thrilled, to give herself over to him.
When, after the fact, he had confessed in a soft voice that that had been his first time, Vesper was hardly surprised. She had suspected as much. She didn’t say anything, only pulled him closer, putting her lips over his heart. She didn’t have to ask if he regretted it or if he had enjoyed himself. She already knew the answer to both questions.
Enough, she told herself now as she checked her mascara for smudges. She had indulged enough, and it was time to stop. Declan would be arriving soon, and it would just be out of line for her to be thinking about her ex while on a date with someone else.
That was all in the past, and Declan was her future, at least for the next few hours. After that, well… she’d just have to see how things unfolded.
***
Declan ended up taking her for pizza, which to Vesper seemed perfect. It all felt very low-pressure, like all the times they had been out before, and after getting over a small attack of nerves right at the beginning she was feeling quite relaxed.
“I always catch myself wondering how you know so much about Muggle food and drink, and other things,” she said to him as she grabbed another slice from the platter between them, “and then I remember that you’re Muggleborn. For some reason I keep forgetting.”
“That’s funny, because most people I know never do, even those who don’t care either way. Especially since the rest of my family is Muggle.”
“It’s a British, thing, I think. You guys treat the worlds as so separate. That’s not how it is in the States. Most of us live pretty immersed in the no-maj world, or, at least, straddling it in some way.”
Declan took a sip of his beer. “What about secrecy? You don’t worry about that?”
Vesper shrugged. “Honestly, it’s not really an issue. I think it’s not as big a deal as you all make it out to be. We have magic-only areas, obviously, places we can shop and eat that no-majs can’t access, but we don’t use them exclusively. We enjoy both.”
“Even purebloods?”
“Again, that whole blood purity concept is very British. We honestly don’t think much about it, mostly because the population is primarily half-blood by a sizeable margin. No one cares.”
“So over the years most of the witches and wizards who would consider themselves pureblood intermarried with Muggleborns and half-bloods, diluting their blood purity to the point where it no longer existed?”
Vesper just sat there and laughed at him.
“What?”
“Just… you should hear yourself. Even in the way you’re talking about it now, the concept of blood status and purity has been hammered into you for such a long time that you can’t let go of it. Even you, a Muggleborn, who surely knows by now that his magical abilities have nothing to do with his family of origin, is sitting here talking about intermarrying and blood dilution like it’s…” She leaned forward. “That’s the thing that always gets me about living here, about seeing what is valued. You all are obsessed, even now, with something that isn’t even real.”
“What’s not real?”
“Blood purity. You really think there is any difference between your actual blood, or, if you want to take the phrase more metaphorically, even, your magical core, and the blood or core of a so-called ‘pureblood?’ There isn’t. It’s completely made up. That a pureblood like Draco or Ron can trace their lineage back to ancient witches and wizards is just a matter of family history and ethnicity; it has nothing to do with magical power. And, in truth, all of you, regardless of blood status, can trace their family lines back to magical ancestry. For Muggleborns the magic had just skipped some generations. That’s the only difference.”
Declan sat back, thinking about that. “Yes, that’s true…”
“So why is it so important? That’s my question.”
“I don’t know. I suppose we like to distinguish ourselves in that way. It’s a part of personal identity. It… categorizes us.”
“But doesn’t it… doesn’t it affect you negatively sometimes? Do you start to believe the things that blood supremacists say about you?”
“Of course not,” he replied, indignant.
“Not even subconsciously?” she pressed. “I just think if I heard that all the time, at school, in the press, I would start to internalize it. I would start to… buy into it, without meaning to.”
Declan was quiet for a minute or two. “I’ve never thought about it that way before.”
“I just don’t see why so much time and energy is spent on it, that’s all. I think the individual, what they’ve done and what they’re doing in the world, is more important than what blood status they happen to have.”
He grinned. “You sound so very American right now.”
She grinned back. “Thank you,”
“Oh, just hush up and eat your pizza,” he replied with a roll of his eyes. “You’ve given me a lot to think about, and now I have to think about it.”
“I didn’t mean to,” she said apologetically. “I wasn’t intending to go on a whole rant about it. But you know me… once I get going, I can’t always stop.”
“No, I’d hardly say holding back is one of your strong suits.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, but then returned to her pizza as instructed. “This is surprisingly good pizza, you know. I’m impressed.”
“I figured you’d enjoy it. I’m sure you know a thing or two about good pizza.”
This led to a whole conversation about ethnic foods in America, what Vesper missed the most, and what foods she thought were better in the UK.
When they had finished their meal Declan pulled out some Muggle money to pay the bill and then made a suggestion for the second half of their date.
“There’s a great pub just ‘round the corner,” he said. “Care for a drink?”
“Sounds great. But I’m buying, since you got dinner.”
“Nice try, but that’s not how this works.”
“How what works? A night out? I think it’s only fair.”
“It’s a date,” he said pointedly. “And I asked you. That means I pay.”
Vesper blushed at the reminder. She’d almost forgotten.
She was fully aware of it now, though, as he took her hand as they walked down the street towards the pub. She was incredibly aware of it, the way his fingers felt entwined with hers. His hands were big, and dry, and warm, and that was quite nice. But it still felt… odd.
I’ll get used to it, she told herself. This was the first time she’d been out with anyone since Blaise, the first time she’d had any sort of intimate contact with anyone else in four years. Of course there would be a bit of an adjustment period.
***
The rest of the evening had passed quite nicely, Vesper thought as she and Declan made their way to the closest Apparition point. Declan had insisted he walk her right to her door, and Vesper hadn’t argued. She knew why he wanted to, and she was hardly going to stop him. He was just so… nice, and funny, and smart, the perfect balance. He was a good conversationalist without being overly verbose, he could tease without being cruel, and he could joke and be goofy without having to make himself the center of attention. On top of that, he was good looking, though not intimidatingly so, like Draco was, for example. And she preferred it that way. It was like she had special-ordered him somehow, ticking off all the boxes of what she liked, but he still had something extra mixed in as well, a capacity to surprise her.
They’d spent a few of hours at the bar drinking slowly and talking nonstop: about their families, their schooling, their friends, Auror training, blood status (again), books, music, television, everything. It was when Vesper started to yawn that Declan suggested they call it a night, if only to make sure Vesper got plenty of rest after a long day. She'd appreciated that, although part of her wanted to suggest that they keep at it for a little while longer. She liked being with him, and she didn’t want it to end.
All good signs, she thought as they Apparated to the front gate of her house. Declan opened the gate for her and she thanked him before walking through it, with him not far behind.
“So,” he said when they’d arrived on her stoop.
“So,” she replied. They’d been here before, in this moment of questioning. Will he or won’t he? Only this time it was really a date, and she was ready. “I’m glad we did this. I had a lot of fun.”
“Me too.”
“I always have fun with you.”
“Good,” Declan said, smiling softly. “Because I want to spend more time with you. A lot more time.”
She couldn’t help but smile too. “Is this your way of asking me out on a second date?”
“It might be.”
“Asking me for a second date before the first one is even finished… that’s not exactly playing it cool, you know,” she teased.
“Mm, well ‘playing it cool’ was never really my thing anyway.”
“Good.”
“Besides, it’s basically the end of the first date, so I’m only a few minutes off.”
“It might be, but you are missing one crucial piece.”
“Oh yeah, and what’s that?”
She rolled her eyes, fighting a smile. “If you have to ask, then you’re not as good at this as I thought.”
He huffed a nervous laugh, and that small sound signaled to Vesper that he was a lot less self-assured than he seemed, somehow making him even more perfect than before. “I wasn’t sure if…” He looked down at her, meeting her eyes, and they remained that way for a couple of seconds. “Oh, to hell with it.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers.
Vesper, having anticipated this, was fully ready to kiss back, and kiss back she did. She didn’t put her whole body into it, not yet, reading his cues. Despite the rather rapid approach he had begun the kiss chastely, softly, letting it build in pressure, feeling her out, her response, before he flicked his tongue out to taste her. Vesper parted her lips and welcomed him, enjoying his technique. The man could kiss. He seemed to understand instinctively that force did not equal passion, and so was not aggressive. He didn’t overuse his tongue or his teeth, and though he controlled the kiss, he acted in tandem with her, letting it all unfold naturally.
They broke apart to catch their breath after a minute, and Vesper realized that she was aware of everything: her swollen lips, his hand resting gently on her waist, their shared breath mingling warm in the air. She was maybe a bit too aware. The kiss had been really nice, something she would gladly do again, but she had not completely lost herself.
Give yourself time, she told herself. Stop being so impatient.
“I really like you,” she found herself saying. “I want to see where this goes. But I also… I need to take it slow. I hope that’s ok.”
He nodded, his forehead still resting against hers. “Of course. I get it. I know you… went through a bad breakup recently.”
She snorted delicately, surprised he would bring it up. “Not so recent, really. Five months ago. But you’re the first guy I’ve dated since then. The first guy I’ve wanted to date. I wasn’t even planning on… but, like I said, I really like you, so… here we are.” Maybe she was doing this all wrong, admitting this, but Declan only smiled down at her.
“I’m honored, then,” he said.
She searched his eyes for any insincerity and found none. “I’m glad,” she said. “It means I’ll be getting that second date after all.”
“Oh you definitely will.”
She laughed. “Maybe you’ll let me plan this one.”
“Nope, not a chance. I’ve already got some ideas. Maybe the third one, if you’re lucky.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“I said maybe.”
She laughed again, and he leaned down to capture her lips with his. This time she took a little more control, pressing herself against him and running her hands along his back. He hummed against her lips, seeming to like that, and her insides clenched in pleasure at the sound.
See? one of her internal voices said. You’re getting the hang of it.
She could want someone else, someone other than Blaise. She was capable, and what a relief that was.
After a few more kisses and a whispered “Goodnight” from both of them, Vesper went inside, her heart pounding and her whole body feeling flushed. There was just no denying it. The evening had been a success.
She walked into her kitchen, seeing Blaise’s letter on the table where she had left it. She picked it up, looking at it without reading it. She already had it memorized by now anyway.
Without further thought she folded it, not into the star shape like Blaise had, but tri-folded, so that it looked just like any other letter she might receive. With the folded letter in hand she went into her study, opening the middle drawer of her desk. She placed it inside, among the few other papers that were piled there, and it blended right in. She closed the drawer.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Up Next: Draco spends time with Andromeda during her treatment and sees Mila for her next appointment.
SickPuppy: Lol yeah, that first scene with Harry and Teddy was my favorite to write. I’m planning for there to be more of that cuteness to come as well.
You always pick up on the important things. Harry’s feelings will come into play later, so I’m glad you’re paying attention!
LadyShire: Thanks! I may very well write more Harry/Draco stories in the future. We shall see. Right now I’m just trying to get through this one!
I know it’s been a while since we’ve seen Andromeda, but she shows up in the next chapter, so we’ll get to check in on how she’s doing.
Book_addict_89: Yeah, he’s the best! I can see why you like putting Teddy in so many of your stories. He’s so fun to write!
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