The crowd from the panel talks were beginning to disperse, now that it was over. There had been a collective sigh of relief from both audience and speakers - at least that was what it felt like once they could finally stop speaking about disembodied genitals. Or worse.

Virgil adjusted the house scarf around his neck as he approached the front of the library, clutching a small notebook in one hand. His camera was slung over his shoulder on a leather strap, for ease, and he had surreptitiously asked Ari if his hair was alright before the other students had started to leave.

What was he doing?? UuuuuuUUUUGH what was he doooooiiiing.

This was a horrid idea. This was the sort of ideas that third years have, twisting their quills in sweaty palms and whispering to each other about so-and-so’s pretty eyes or charming smile. Virgil didn’t know anything about Cepheus Gamp's eyes or smile.

Only that he felt terrifically nervous to think on either of those things. Had anyone noticed his fidgeting? Gracie might, later. Or Ariadne. Oh, he didn’t care. He tried not to care when he neared the older wizard and cleared his throat in a dour way. His stomach turned slightly, a feeling blunted only by the fact that he might as well push ahead now that he was here.

“Mr. Gamp?” Virgil heard his voice, quieter than usual, and spoke a little louder. “Do you— that is, may I ask you a question? If you have a minute to spare?"

“Gods, need a drink after this,” Ceph muttered to Grigory as the two of them stepped away from their seats and the noise in the library rose to levels that Madam Pince might have exploded in rage about when he was at school. He turned away from his colleague, thinking to talk to some of the other panelists and share their collective relief, when the blonde hair from earlier reappeared in front of him.

“… may I ask you a question…?”

In a split second Cepheus glanced the student up and down, clocking the camera, scarf and the pretty pale blue eyes. Not eyes you would forget in a hurry. He seemed strangely familiar, like he was a relative of someone Ceph knew at work but couldn’t place right then. This was either a genuine question (maybe a follow up on zoonosis[1]) or something for the school paper. That camera had been flashing from the front row at regular intervals. He’d tried to ignore it with all the adult respectability a wizard could manage when discussing intimate processes with different species.

“Of course,” Cepheus replied graciously, “you posed a good question earlier, sorry, you’re one of Ariadne’s classmates aren’t you, I’m afraid we haven’t been introduced.” Ceph’s right hand lifted in readiness to shake the Slytherin student’s hand once he’d shared his name.

1.	Virgil's question

Cepheus Gamp was even worse up-close.

Worse, because he was absolutely dreadful to begin with. Faces like that did not pop up in everyday situations: no, rather, they lolled about in the foreground of 19th century portraits displayed in the sort of buildings people used to live in but were now charged five sickles entry to have a good look-see. Virgil caught himself smiling at the man even though he was convinced he had stopped existing two seconds ago when Cepheus turned to give him an appraising look.

His racing heart disproved that theory. “... I’m afraid we haven’t been introduced.”

Virgil looked down at the extended hand, as if though he wasn't sure about what to do with it - and then with a start, remembered. His cheeks were nearly scarlet. "We haven't, no, I doubt Ari speaks of me."

He took Ceph's hand politely and suppressed a nervous laugh. "Virgil," a moment of hesitation before he offered his surname. "Virgil Carstairs." The very serious reality of whose hand he was shaking suddenly weighed on him.

Mortimer Gamp's son. Right. Even if the prefect could look past callous fortuity, he didn't know if anyone else would. This was potentially... awkward. Virgil licked his bottom lip and raised his left hand to indicate his notebook. "My question was about vampires. Considering recent, ah, news I didn't think it was tactful to ask publicly."

“Virgil,” golden hair introduced himself as, pretty name, strangely familiar, “Virgil Carstairs."

The air was sucked out of the cavernous library. Cepheus clasped Virgil’s hand warmly at first until the name hit, and his elbow seemed to stiffen up. His heart stopped and his stomach was replaced with a bowling ball.

“Good, good to meet you.” Cepheus heard himself say, holding Virgil’s hand just a little too long, eyes wider than normal as he stared back. Carstairs seemed ever so tentative too, but he had approached Cepheus, rather than the other way round. The Division Head had not anticipated holding conversation with anyone involved in February’s events, and the thought of doing so made him nervous.

It was alright, he could do this. Be professional, answer the Slytherin’s question. Virgil’s question. Gosh, he was pretty, a sleepy, gentle sort of voice, but assertive enough to make out he was older than Cepheus knew he could be. He clasped his own hands in front of himself over Team Interspecies, trying to look approachable and not at all murderous.

“Wise choice,” Cepheus agreed with a little dip of his head, “Personal question, or on behalf of the school newspaper? I couldn’t help but notice you were keen to capture the moment.” He gestured to Virgil’s camera.

They might have shook hands longer than was necessary, though Virgil did not realise. He registered the tension that his name had brought about - and the sweeping aside of it, which meant he could breathe again. They would not have to bring up the mammoth in the room. It had been silently acknowledged and then ignored.

His hand felt sacred when returned to him.

       "Personal question, or on behalf of the school newspaper?"

A puzzled look crossed Virgil's countenance just then, clearing as his gaze followed Gamp's gesture at the camera. Shit. The older wizard had noticed him. Did he notice most of the photographs were of him? There were many speakers but his bias would be very obvious in the developing room. The Slytherin blushed, tucking a strand of gold behind his ear.

"Oh, that... that's for our yearbook. Sorry if I distracted you. I take loads, to find the right shot." Virgil was only half-sorry because he was already senselessly pleased to know Cepheus had been aware him earlier. "My question was more personal."

He thought so at least: he couldn't remember now. Thoughts ran away under Gamp's observant gaze, which had something kinder and calmer than friendliness in it.

If there was a word in the English language to suit, Virgil hadn't come across one yet. "Not that I know any vampires, personally, besides Miss Islington who came to visit...." he forced himself to speak and seized on any notion to distract from his forgotten question. "I do wonder if any would think to befriend a human nowadays, much less - um, experiment."

The corner of Virgil's notebook dug sharply into his palm, he was holding it so tightly now. Experiment? Did he just use that word?

“The yearbook?” Ceph asked gently, a small part of him screaming that he would be immortalised for talking about this in a yearbook. "No distraction, and I quite understand.” He gave Virgil a reassuring smile, his anxiety about meeting swiftly ebbing away, allowing him to slip back into the flow of the afternoon. He felt like a big brother to Hogwarts, in a strange way.

As Virgil tried to work out his question, Cepheus listened in silence, patient, encouraging with a gentle expression. His left hand unclasped his right and found its way into his trouser pocket, trying to appear more casual and nonchalant about this chat. Gosh Virgil was pale, much like Ceph was, and those eyes were hard to look away from. It was almost as if he was looking through him. Captivating. They had definitely not met, he wouldn’t have forgotten those eyes.

“Vampires are curious beings as much as we are.” Cepheus replied as neutrally as he could. He glanced down away from Virgil’s face to think, but his gaze soon returned, unable to shift too far from it. They were both blushing, Cepheus bowed his head and turned his shoulder away from the crowds dispersing, gestured with a hand for Virgil to do the same. It would give them a modicum of privacy. His left arm, tethered by the hand in his pocket brushed against the younger man’s as he pivoted. His right hand engaged in a set of gestures as he spoke.

“How I understand it, their urges are chiefly on feeding, but when one lives hundreds of years, other entertainment, companionship, is to be sought. There are cultures, other than our own, which are more accepting of those relations.” Cepheus gave a little shrug. “If it is a personal curiosity with a view to engage,” oops, perhaps this was too close to the mark, “... if you were thinking of pursuing, I would strongly advise against it, not just for the risk,” his hand made a loose claw at his own throat in gesture, “but because a vampire might perceive that you are just interested in studying them, or collecting them as a bed notch.”

There was a thoroughly awkward pause, Cepheus rubbing his neck, “Not that I imagine you are? But one does have strange thoughts when new curiosities are set out in such an afternoon.” Hell! Open mouth insert foot. He brushed his hair back from his face. “Does that help to answer?”

Whether the yearbook was any worse than a school paper - the latter tended towards mercenary tones - Virgil didn't know, though he nodded gravely in response. Gracie was editor this year and she could be merciless.

Gamp's focus made the Slytherin feel more nervous than he normally would whilst posing a question; there was nothing ambivalent about the dry and insolent manner Virgil put on for lessons but he couldn't bring himself to emulate those same airs around the older man. It would have felt unnatural, bravado.

       "...as much as we are.”

"Of course," he mumbled, eager to be in agreement and distracted by the gentle colouring of how Cepheus blushed. His gaze flickered between the animated gestures and the gaze that never wandered too far. When their arms brushed, Virgil swallowed and tried not to think about what it would be like to hold Cepheus' arm - to walk with him someplace mundane, like a park, taking something as sanctified as touch for granted. 

What -- what were they talking about? Vampires? The colour drained from Virgil's expression the more the Division head spoke. His query, rephrased in another person's mouth, sounded reckless. An insensitive curiosity for the Other.

He didn't know what to say. The pause was possibly uncomfortable for Gamp but it was a moment of sheer internal panic for Virgil. This entire exchange was tantamount to saying, oi how do I go around fucking vampires, wasn't it? Cepheus must have thought him juvenile!

       “Does that help to answer?”

Flustered, his eyes fell from the other wizard's face and to the floor. "Yes. No, rather... I'm not... I wouldn't, uh, pursue to engage somebody just because he was a vampire." Virgil clarified as the colour returned to his cheeks. Mortified. "I suppose what I'm asking is if it's common, in the right circles? If an oppo-- if the situation arose?"

Cautiously, he looked up again and bit his bottom lip. "They were human once. It can't be very different from..." Virgil trailed off, grateful they had turned away from the dispersing crowd. "Engaging with other wizards."

“Of course not, I’m sorry, that was a crass assumption to cross my mind,” Cepheus apologised genuinely, “I’ve met people who do… who bother them… erm.” He cringed, thinking of the cases. They made for a difference to the ones who tried to feed them bricks or took offence to them living next door. He wasn’t sure he wanted to detail to Virgil, and besides, the poor lad wasn’t interested in shagging a vampire for the pure sake that they were one.

“I suppose it is possible, as you say, 'in the right circles’. I haven’t encountered one personally,” Cepheus glanced up, thinking through his encounters and the things he knew about beings, uttering more quietly, "daresay I’ve been places they might quite easily have been…”

He offered Virgil a reassuring smile,
“And yes, the biology is much the same, though, as for how certain things work without blood, hrm.” Ceph glanced down by way of elaborating. Despite spending a day discussing the ins and outs of putting bits into holes and the importance of lubricant and barriers he couldn’t say he’d ever had an in detail conversation about a vampire’s erections with another person. “And in my personal opinion,” Ceph added, rolling his shoulders back where a tension was growing, “one might have a better time topping… altogether safer given the fangs.”

The apology hadn't been patronising - a common symptom in adults when they spoke to students - and Virgil was beyond gratified to know that Gamp didn't think he was some sort of perverse venator. He didn't want to be known as Ariadne's inappropriately lustful classmate.

       "...people who do… who bother them… erm.”

Blonde eyebrows rose at this, both quizzical and titillated by what was going unsaid. "Bother?" he repeated without considering. Were people reckless enough to bother vampires like that? He thought about how Bevans had been around Violet Islington and supposed certain individuals used their 'secondary' thinking organs when it came to these things....

Virgil very much wanted to know about about the places Cepheus had visited that were likely to contain such social circles; not because he wanted to follow suit but it seemed like there was a story there. Many stories even. He wished they were elsewhere.

Some place quiet or sociable, where he could lay down and listen to the other man speak for hours about the strange things he'd seen in his life.

This only reminded the Slytherin that Gamp was much older and simply humouring him today. Virgil was about to thank him for his time when-- "....a better time topping… altogether safer given the fangs.”

Oh!

Oh.

He nearly dropped his notebook, lips parting to quickly reply but then shutting them in a fluster at the distraction of Cepheus' shoulders. Those ridiculous t-shirts Maiko had made looked too good on the older wizard.

"They bite when they...?" he couldn't help touching his neck at the idea, swallowing. His experience with men was limited and Virgil didn't prefer topping, his reaction saying as much. Sticking himself into something as chilled as a corpse wasn't attractive either. "Not sure if I fancy-- I mean, aren't they very cold?"

“Even humans do…” Cepheus explained with a friendly shrug. “Uhm,” he thought aloud to Virgil’s question, “Well, yes, they aren’t quite the same temperature, but one can use protection that also warms. There’s some that specialise for ‘engagements with the cold companion’.” He looked to Virgil with hope he’d recognise it, the brand name was escaping him, “No? They’ve late night radio adverts, '… warm and tingly for your dingly’.” Ceph sang it quietly, and then wondered why the heck he had and laughed at himself, putting his hand to his face. “Oh gosh, don’t put that in your yearbook.”

He smiled at Virgil, reflecting that despite the student’s awkwardly phrased question, he was actually quite enjoying trying to answer it. It was so much easier to do it when there wasn’t several hundred spotty faces staring at you with various stages of chronic boredom or gross interest. That and Virgil was rather pretty, though one really wasn’t meant to have thoughts like that about students. He was the same age as Ariadne! But even she was very grown up these days.
“Did you attend Violet Islington’s talk when she visited earlier this year?” Ceph asked in return, not really sure where this was going, but happy to prolong the conversation.

The younger wizard blinked, glad that the sleeves of his oversized sweater hid how the fine hairs of his arms had stood on end upon being reminded that yes... humans bit down too. He watched Cepheus more carefully: the soft, kind mouth and the effete but practical mannerisms.

And then the singing.

Virgil recognised the tune immediately, laughing with surprise and relieving his anxious brow. "Oh I wouldn't dream of it," he replied with a blush to the yearbook comment - mostly because the idea of sharing Gamp's voice with anybody else was a distant one. It felt like a secret, and secrets were delicious.

       "Did you attend Violet Islington’s talk when she visited earlier this year?"

"I did." Virgil answered right away, not wanting to seem as incoherent as he had been earlier. "It was singularly educational to... to actually ask her questions. But you can understand why I couldn't ask her about-" a glance around the library, self-conscious, and then a gesture to mean what had been exchanged between the two of them.

He brought up the memory of the talk in Storm's classroom, all the way back in January. His free hand played awkwardly with the fringe of his house scarf while he talked. "We had discussed... someone used the word consorts, I believe." Merlin, how morbid that talk had been in retrospect.

"Not that I think any of us were considering." Virgil's lips pressed together irritably for a moment, remembering Elijah. Blood goggles. "It's an over romanticized word anyway. Do you think the Ministry will ever repeal those laws?" he felt less like being swallowed up on the spot now, letting his curiosity take over.
 

“...But you can understand why I couldn't ask her about-"
“Of course.” Ceph agreed in a similar volume, nodding respectfully. Virgil was a braver soul than he was at that age. Ceph hadn’t come out when he was at school to anyone or anything. He had known, but he’d been too scared to admit it. It wasn’t until his twenties he’d been able to explore his sexuality, let alone approach a relative stranger and ask them about same-sex relations with another being species. Then again, he realised, Virgil might only have mentioned his interests to Cepheus, so he probably should not ever mention or infer about the conversation with Ariadne. She was probably lurking somewhere, and if not her, Miss Taylor, the talented younger baker, who was due to join the Division for a internship that summer and exchanged letters with him.

“We had discussed... someone used the word consorts, I believe… It's an over romanticized word anyway.” Ceph nodded and his smile broadened. He’d always found the word made him imagine a group of people playing period instruments together, but he didn’t want to interrupt Virgil’s flow. “Do you think the Ministry will ever repeal those laws?"

“I very much doubt it.” Ceph shook his head slightly, “The Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans prohibit hunting, but whenever there’s an instance of someone turned, there’s a growing strength to appeal Part Twelve. It’s an anticipated reaction. The consensual feedings are a high risk activity for turning someone, and if one reviewed the most recent registrations there’s a pattern. Sometimes the newly turned is in support, declaring they understand the risks, but sometimes they very much aren’t. Often it is the victim’s family who pursues the Ministry for harsher sanctions. Either way, feeding on live wizards or witches is prohibited due to the risk. It’s difficult to establish how many flout it until an incident occurs.”

Cepheus had very easily slipped into his easy habit of talking about work, his gaze shifting back and forth from Virgil’s face as he explained. “It’s not because vampires want to turn someone, it’s more because once they’re feeding, it’s hard to keep a steady head. Like us being starved all month and then presented with the finest and richest version of our very favourite dinner. Which is why it’s very important we keep the blood bank topped up. Once you’re of age you can donate, you know? Only takes half an hour.”

He wondered how many times Cepheus had explained this to someone, outlining the danger of the practice against what must have appeared to be a wistful desire for more freedoms. Virgil absorbed what was being said with studious grace - it would be something to bring up when the subject new graced newspaper headlines.

This wasn't some academic theorising on the subject: Gamp actually worked in the Ministry, his views were legit.

Bringing up food, however, reminded Virgil that he hadn't eaten much during the Q&A break. "I can sympathise," he murmured with a mild look of distress at the analogy between vampire and human nourishment. The Slytherin loved food but he could put it off for a little more time talking to Cepheus.

       "Once you’re of age you can donate, you know? Only takes half an hour.”

A strange pang shot up Virgil's arm, in the crook of his elbow, and he clumsily repressed the flinch that followed. It wasn't a physical pain but a recent memory that caused him to clench his fist. That and an image in his mind of a dark, wet room with no windows. Level nine.

"I know," he forced a smile and his gaze faltered slightly. "But it may, ah, be some time before I... willingly give away any of my blood. My parents donate regularly."

Edgar did, anyway, for the same reason Cepheus had implied. Better sated vampires than hungry ones if they intended on breaking the rules. But fanged teeth drifted further from mind at the moment.

A dark cloud took its place. "I can't imagine matters would be improved by eliminating those laws." Virgil pressed on in a rush of words that fell over one another, trying not to linger on the thought of blood. "We're probably better off betting on Gillyweed getting the pass first."

[M] Sweary wizard

---

“Shit.” Cepheus said, his mind suddenly reversing through what he’d just said, not caring that he’d just sworn in front of a student. His eyes were wide and his smiles had vanished into a look of horror. Virgil was being so sweet trying to say about his parents donating, his words tumbling out far quicker suddenly. Cepheus suddenly felt the weight of being the responsible, older person in this situation and how he’d just torn a strip off Carstairs, while smiling. Shit he was and awful human being.

Cepheus felt awful. His skin rushed cold with the horrible thought of how his momentary lack of concentration had brought up such bad thoughts in the Slytherin. This was exactly what he had rehearsed himself not to do for gods’ sake! He might as well take off his shoe and shove it in his mouth there and then. He’d managed to avert a crisis with the introduction and there he was outrightly suggesting Virgil donated blood a month and a half after it had been forcibly taken from him. He was an utter wanker.

“I’m so sorry, I - I’m just trying to get more people to, and it’s habit - I.” Both his hands reached out to Virgil’s arm, and flinched away just as his fingertips were about to land. He mustn’t, he shouldn’t. He had no right. This wasn’t about him. The anger and the guilt he remembered his sister drunkenly arguing with him[1] on his living room floor came rushing back into his mind’s eye. That they would never ever be able to fix things. “I didn’t mean to say such a stupid thing to you.” He backed away half a pace, eyes lowered, hands lifted in surrender. “Virgil I’m so sorry. It’s wonderful that your parents, do, I wouldn’t expect you to, it’s a personal choice.” Fuck!

1.	16 February, 2011 Worst Parents Ever

If it had been anyone else besides Cepheus Gamp, he would not have tried to move away from the subject - Virgil's behaviour in lessons[1] said as much about his sharp tongue. He armoured himself in quick retorts and lurid images planted by keen words - but he hardly knew the Division head and had learned his lesson in Charms.

Virgil didn't shy away from the attempt to take his arm, though he did not know to feel relieved or disappointed when Ceph stepped away from him instead. Obviously, there had been nothing intentional about the blood mention. No need to go wandering into the mind hiding beneath that mane of black.

      "...I wouldn’t expect you to, it’s a personal choice.”

Cepheus had said his name. It was horridly distracting, to hear it in that voice. "It's fine." Virgil paused, aware of how rushed his words were before, folding his arms over his narrow chest effeminately. "I know you didn't mean it that way. I do want to donate, when I've... forgotten isn't the word, is it?" he hesitated and then smiled  - more gentle.

"Recovered." Virgil finished in an assertive manner before he licked his lips, trying to decide if what he wanted to say would be rude: he often did not know until after the fact. "You're not what I expected from, um, you know. Please don't worry yourself. It's nothing either of us could have changed."

That had hurt a little to say but he believed it, and Virgil didn't want it to be something they thought about if he ever met Cepheus again in the future.

1.	Indelible Marks - 11th March