Saturday, 1055 hours.


He had left early and stopped by the weekend farmer's market in Diagon Alley, because the weather was good. Also because it made him feel better to frame this meeting as part of a casual day out rather than the humiliating encounter he was expecting it to be. Even thinking of that night[1] made him want to curl up in bed and never ever resurface in polite company.

There were only so many baguettes and peaches one could look at before the appointed hour, however.

Flicking his head back to fix a stray lock of blonde, Virgil climbed the steps behind the florist, breathing in its sickly sweet air. It tasted different in daylight; more pungent, hidden by the aromatic layers of  fresh flowers left out in wooden pails. The drunken evening might as well have been a dream.

Knock Knock...!

From inside, he heard Cepheus call out that the door was open. Virgil breathed out: that was anti-climactic. He pushed through, opening the door to the sight of Ceph's cat tottering up to meet him. His mouth twisted into a smile he couldn't quite help.

"Hello, you French Lothario, " he murmured fondly and shut the door before kneeling down to lavish Claude with pets. "I ought to have gotten you some fish."

Virgil left his groceries by the entrance, with the shoes, and padded down the corridor towards the living room and kitchen area. "Good morning," the young wizard greeted tentatively before he caught sight of Cepheus. He slipped his hands into his pockets and tried to ignore the awful feeling in his stomach.

It was useless telling himself to be calm but he was an actor after all. Virgil could at least pretend to be calm.

1.	Vulnerable Nighttime Conversations - 15th Oct

Cepheus had been up early, in cycles of reconsideration about his impending guest. The kitchen was inordinately clean, and by eleven the flat smelled of beeswax wood polish, lemon and lavender. He wasn’t entirely keen on the combination, but his fussing over the place had resulted in this. Surfaces shone in the late summer, or was it now autumnal sunshine.

Claude had helped, of course, by curling up on an armchair and rubbing his black and white fur all over the seat and arms, by dropping his breakfast on the kitchen floor to eat it rather than keep it in his bowl, and by trying to trip Ceph up as he cleaned. The last was to gain attention from his distracted owner. Someone was clearly coming round and it wasn’t Nate and Callie, who were regular Saturday visitors, and once cat kidnappers.

Eventually he had taken up sentry at the front window, staring down at Saturday morning shoppers in the alley, watching customers go in and out of the Florists beneath, whiskers twitching.

The knock at the door just before eleven brought both of the flat’s residents out of their thoughts. Claude descended and trotted across the living room floor, past Cepheus in the kitchen who called out to come in. Cepheus refolded a tea towel decorated with animated cartoon cats for the fifteenth time that morning and composed his face.

“Good morning,”
“Morning!”

And their eyes found each other, Virgil framed in the hall doorway, sunshine picking out his blonde hair. Ceph’s lungs felt altogether smaller than they were, and his throat had tightened to produce a return greeting that was higher pitched than his norm. He coughed self-consciously, hands pressed to the small of his back, elbows bent, not knowing where to put them. Claude was rubbing himself up against Virgil’s calves, tail upright and twitching as if to say I didn’t expect this guest, what a delight.

“Beautiful day,” the older wizard quickly continued, and gestured towards the front windows of the flat. “Was it warm, or is the sort of day where the shadows feel like ice?” Small talk. “I - I’ve got the kettle on,” he fussed, turning towards the stove, “did you want tea or coffee?”

Keep it together, Gamp, he uttered under his breath as he turned.

This is going to be rather awkward, isn't it? he thought nervously as they looked at one another. Claude purred against his legs, sunlight fell across a room he had only seen by night before.

It was different. Still very much a sanctuary from the bustle of Diagon, but less sinister and precarious than his recollection painted. There was the couch where Balfour and the STD wizard had sat down, bookending their host. And that had been Johann's seat, next to the armchair where Virgil had shamelessly sprawled himself with a cup of hot tea. Someone had patted his head. Had it been Balf-- no, the other one, the German.

The memory of it brought a bit of colour to his face so he looked at Cepheus instead. By far the best thing in the room worth looking at.

           "Was it warm, or is the sort of day where...did you want tea or coffee?" the older man's offer was much more convoluted than it had been that night, tumbling in after the cold.

"Coffee, please. Black." Virgil unbuttoned his jacket, slipping it off to hang over the back of the sofa before he joined Ceph in the kitchen. "It's wonderfully warm. I was down at the market earlier, to get fruit for a late summer pie. It's nice when they're a little too ripe."

He rolled up his sleeves self consciously and crossed his arms, leaning one hip against the kitchen counter. There were loads of things he wanted to say or ask but now that he was actually here, Virgil didn't feel hurried at all. "How has your week been?"

Coffee. That was fine. Cepheus busied himself with choosing which of his collection of cat-themed mugs he’d select for Virgil, going for a decidedly neutral one which liked to curl and uncurl its tail as a handle as it was drunk. It would pat playfully if you forgot to drink and it was going to go cold. Ceph's was a present from Ariadne last Christmas, and was absolutely true.

“A good way to spend a morning,” Cepheus agreed to the pie comment as he poured out the kettle, steam rising up to the kitchen ceiling. The action of brewing coffee and tea steadied his indecision over whether this was a good idea or not.

“How has your week been?”

Cepheus didn’t know that Virgil had spent the first day or so playing mournful violin[1] in his pyjamas, but Ariadne’s guess that Cepheus had spent time playing sad piano songs and talking it over with Claude his cat was pretty accurate, had he known about it. He turned and made himself meet Virgil’s gaze, feeling rude otherwise. He had been trying to learn the first arabesque of Debussy’s Deux Arabesques, by heart, with all the arpeggios,  triplets, and rubato timing.

“One of those long, tedious ones,” Cepheus answered instead, “though it had its highlights amongst the meetings and report writing. Penny’s trainings are ‘particularly packed at the present’,” Cepheus quoted his colleague’s alliterative tendencies, “whether owing to the Head Auror’s endorsement of her comedy value, actual interest, or enforced referral from other departments, I couldn’t say.” It was a bit of the latter two, he did know. Their working relationship had been a bit odd of late since Penny’s birthday. Cepheus seemed predisposed to awkward moments with younger colleagues.

“I sat in with the house-elf relocation team when they ran their elf support group. Hard to keep a dry eye after one of those, Merlin.” He reached out to begin pouring Virgil’s coffee. “Oh, and we had some reports of some newborn giants in the Pennines. These things are as big as your or I when they arrive.” He slid Virgil’s mug across the counter, its tail curling into a handle, and busied himself with his teapot, which was prowling around on four paws.

“You know the sort of Ministry week, I’m sure.” He gave Virgil a friendly smile. Best to concentrate on the fact Virgil was a work colleague as well as a friend. “Though I realise the unspeakable norm is a little different to the rest of us, but feel free to correct me.” He set a pastry box on the side between them, recognisable as from Alohomocha. “Take a seat in the living room.” He gestured over to the living room, bathed in warm October sunshine, and raised his wand to levitate the box over to the coffee table. “I’ll bring some plates. Hope you are hungry, wasn’t sure which you’d prefer…”

1.	2nd October, Crushed

He swallowed a burning lump in his throat when Cepheus brought up Penny, remembering how absolutely miserable[1] he had felt when he caught a glimpse of them kissing at the birthday party in July. But he forced himself to laugh at the remark - even Unspeakables had to undergo sensitivity training and Pickler was legendary in that sense. Like a trip to the dentist.

The smell of coffee was heavenly, and he glanced away from meeting Ceph in the eye - that strange shyness coming over him again - to examine the cat mug while they chatted. "Newborn giants!" Virgil repeated in a soft, awed tone. "My congratulations to the happy parents. I've never met a giant. Mind, I feel petite enough around regular sized wizards at the Ministry."

Level four and two in particular; tall wixes capable of tackling either dark wizards or dangerous beasts. The lifts were an intimidating place to be when passing through those floors.

         "Though I realise the unspeakable norm is a little different to the rest of us, but feel free to correct me."

"No, it's very much the same in that sense." Virgil replied, wrapping his hands around the mug and playfully nudging the tail with his pinky. "As far as I can tell you anyway," he raised his eyebrows dramatically. "I may have inadvertently made the week before last even more tedious for everyone, though. Those spiked chocolates[2]."

Smiling a little sheepishly, he took his coffee into the living room and decided to sit on the floor by the coffee table after some hesitation. His gaze shifted from drink to host and his smile softened at the sight of the baked good.

"Pastries. One of my many weaknesses." Virgil recalled when he had claimed to be 80% weaknesses, the night they played dress-up. "Thank you, by the way. For agreeing to have coffee with me. There were a couple of things I wanted to talk to you about."

1.	Ungallant and Deficient - 16th July
2.	The Dream Within a Dream - 7th October

“… spiked chocolates.”

Ceph’s eyes slid to the side as he recalled something about chocolates. They’d all been sent some chocolates, though Ceph had been away from his desk at the time, and hadn’t located them since. He had witnessed his squib secretary, Kayla become suddenly infatuated with Alec Carter, their Department Head, and suspected she might have intercepted his chocolates as well as her own… The situation had quite slipped his mind, given it has fallen just before the previous weekend.

“… There were a couple of things I wanted to talk to you about.”
“There were?” Cepheus replied a little hastily, and then, rephrased, “I mean, I see.”

His wand made light work of the tea tray complete with teapot, mug, plates, milk jug and spoon, sending it ahead of himself to join the pastries on the coffee table. Virgil had elected to sit on the floor, and Cepheus found himself relieved he had cleaned before Virgil’s arrival, so the amount of cat hair would be minimal. The host perched on one side of the sofa, diagonally opposite, and extended a plate.

“Well, I thought it would be wrong to leave things… hanging, as they were,” he shrugged, “you left before the rest of us woke up.” Gone with barely a trace, leaving Balfour and Johann to witness Ceph’s post-mortem of the awkward encounter and console Ceph’s embarrassment. He had thought to write to Virgil more than once, but had written to Ariadne first, a little cross with her. It hadn’t been the wisest of ideas. No. Time to be the adult about this. Cepheus drew a deep breath. “Virgil, I must apologise, I could have handled things better that night. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

Life for Virgil had been strange since they last saw one another - he had consulted Ari and Abby[1], been unceremoniously insulted by Nick for his Legilimency[2], and  come across Lil Snigger’s real identity[3]. And those were just the events outside of Mysteries. Yet they’d helped him gain perspective. The young wizard sipped on his coffee, allowing Claude to climb onto his lap and settle in the hollow of his crossed legs against the floor. He helped himself to a cream eclair.

            ”Virgil, I must apologise, I could have handled things better that night. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“Oh it’s okay,” he replied automatically and grimaced right away. This had to stop, the niceness of it all. “No. I suppose… it wasn’t okay, not really.” Virgil  bit into the pastry he had taken to give himself a natural pause to think.

The apology was gratifying to hear. First things first, however. He swallowed.

“I understand why you handled it the way you did. Not only because we were both awfully drunk but I… I looked into your thoughts, didn’t I?” Virgil glanced down at his sticky fingers, thinking of how furious Nick had been in the lift or how disappointed Yavin might be if he found out. “Sorry. I should have known better than to mix liquor and gillyweed. It’s harder to control, when I’m that far gone.”

He wasn’t a child, he knew his limits and had let this infatuation get the better of him. It could have been dangerous. In another place, with another person. Virgil looked back up at the older man, serious.

“You haven’t told anyone, have you? About my Legilimency? Not that I think you would,” he added in a quiet voice, a young voice, “I just have to be certain, you see.”

Virgil needed to think of himself first. That night had been a lesson: tread carefully or risk making it too easy for the other people to hurt him. He didn’t want to cry like that[4] ever again.

1.	In the Cellars of London - 6th October
2.	Swimming in These Empty Towns - 3rd Oct
3.	No-So-Private Eye - 4th Oct
4.	The Stark Light of Morning - 1st Oct

Perched on the edge of the sofa cushion, Cepheus wrapped his fingers around his mug of hot tea. He gave Virgil his full attention, not yet helping himself to any of the pastries. It was both easier to converse while sober, and more difficult given the subject matter.

“You haven’t told anyone, have you?”

“I-.”

“… my legilimency…”

“No - no.” Cepheus hastily replied, at first being honest about the post-mortem conversation with his friends and colleagues the morning after, and then realising he didn’t even have to elaborate to answer Virgil’s query. A passing thought considered that Virgil could glean that memory from the surface of his thoughts, and then, that he’d be able to glean that Cepheus had considered that.

“It’s not an alien concept to me,” he admitted, not wanting to bring up his father directly, “it just surprised me, I didn’t anticipate it or have any idea. Maybe, I felt a little ambushed, though that’s putting it bluntly.” He shrugged his shoulders, looking sorry, his eyes were unfocused, conveying a sadness that could cause serious heartbreak if he ever learned to produce it on cue.

“It must be a blessing and a curse, to be predisposed. Humans are naturally curious, even without our hearts providing incentive.” His lips formed a soft smile, and he blinked, refocusing on Virgil. “I was more cross with Ariadne, the following day, when I reflected. She has rather been fanning the flames.”

            "No - no."

Virgil nodded, shoulders lowering as he sighed a little in relief - he had been carrying the worry without realising it. The hesitation prompted a quick glance into the older man's mind but there was nothing sinister there, though it did mean he wouldn't know where to look the next time either Storm or Spectre boarded a Ministry lift. A problem for future!Virgil.

As Cepheus continued to talk, Virgil allowed himself to properly observe him. The warm colours of his clothes, the raven-like darkness of his hair (still so sinfully touchable), a softness in his eyes. Blessing and a curse. Yes.

            "I was more cross with Ariadne, the following day...."

A tail tapped his knuckles and he quickly lowered his gaze, finishing the eclair before lifting the mug. Bad manners to stare. "Please don't be cross with her." Virgil rested forward against the coffee table, careful not to dislodge Claude. "It was fun that she played along with my whims. I don't hold it against her."

How could he? Virgil didn't have it in him to be angry with Ari, who hadn't meant anything bad by it.

"She has apologised. With coffee and florentines," he looked back up at Cepheus and gestured between themselves with a light laugh, "which must be your greatest family resemblance. Plying melancholy boys with pastries."

Virgil was glad for the good weather; in the sunshine, his words were more in jest than in self-pity. "Besides, it wasn't just her. I mistook your kindnesses for something more."

It hadn't been Ariadne who sent him flowers or who asked him to try on the black lace shirt. Nor did she compel Virgil to invite Ceph to Stardust, or to join the older wizards on their night out. He wouldn't blame her or have her be blamed. Ari was his friend.

“… it wasn’t just her. I mistook your kindness for something more.”

Cepheus took a larger-than-anticipated gulp of tea in response to this statement. It burned his throat and his tongue, and his eyes bulged due to the discomfort. He rued the timing. Not only of the hot tea.

“On reflection,” he managed to reply, before clearing his throat and setting aside his mug, “I can see why you may have perceived my actions in that light.” Cepheus tried to arrange his features into a soft expression, but his animated hand gestures revealed his anxieties. Virgil had confessed to nerves the last time they had seen each other, and today Cepheus felt exactly that. Only not the burning, excited nerves he imagined Virgil had felt, but the cold, clenching dread. Cepheus Gamp’s fault was that he always saw the best in people and hated to let others down.

There was Claude, purring in Virgil’s lap, his eyes sleepily blinking at Ceph as if to say how could you hurt him?

The older wizard inhaled, and propped his elbows on his thighs, leaning forward. “Fate has had our paths cross more times than would be polite for coincidence, even with Ariadne’s well-meant interference. My motivations to spend time with you Virgil are based on enjoying your company and… friendship…” That said, he did not retract his late night confession that he found Virgil attractive.

He couldn't quite help but feel guilty for making a grown wizard uncomfortable in his own home.

Virgil always thought it was a sort of gift that he could get a rise out of just about anybody. He knew which buttons to press even without peering into minds but when it came to one of the few people he didn't want to agitate... not a good knack at all. Not even a little bit. Claude's loud purring distracted him just then - he scratched the back of her neck, glancing down for a moment.

            "My motivations to spend time with you Virgil are based on enjoying your company and… friendship…"

Something cold was trickling down the back of his neck. The young wizard forced himself to look up, pale in the face and an uncertain tilt at the corners of his sulky mouth. Friendship. Friends, with Cepheus Gamp? That's all they were, he supposed, come to think of it. All they could be.

Why did acknowledging that hurt so much? Why did any of this have to hurt?

"I... um. I understand." Virgil breathed out slowly, ducking his head to rub the back of his neck self-consciously; he had cried himself out that morning and wasn't going to now. "You make it rather hard to dislike you, Cepheus," he spoke softly to Claude, whose soothing sounds were a balm.

The one silver lining was that he now knew it hadn't been entirely in his head.

Pulling his countenance together, Virgil faced up again. There were two bright spots of colour in his cheeks and something brittle in his eyes. He was smiling just a touch. "I'd like to be your friend. If you'd still like to be my friend, I mean. And if you'd rather we not..."

He felt a nervous clench in his chest and ignored it; he pictured putting away his lovelorn feelings, locked up in a dusty wooden chest inside his mind. Something to examine one day when they felt less fragile.

"Whatever is fine." Virgil didn't quite meet Cepheus in the eye, wishing he could bolt. "I've enjoyed our talks. It's been nice, being real with you." And knowing, somehow, that the older man wouldn't mock or bully him for his infatuation.

Oh Gods, what did Ariadne call it. Friendzone? He was putting Virgil in that, wasn’t he? Thank goodness for Claude providing comfort to take a little sting from the realisation for the younger wizard. The fact he was sat on the floor as Ceph perched on the edge of the sofa, only amplified the difference in age and experience. It wasn’t so long ago that Ariadne would have been sprawled upon the floor like that with books or even childhood toys.

“I’d like to be your friend… if you’d rather we not…”

“Goodness, I -,” Cepheus began, and calmed his urgent patter, allowing Virgil space to finish. He gently bit his bottom lip as he waited, gaze fluttering beneath long eyelashes that blinked far too quickly with nerves. The past tense Virgil used stirred an anxious knot in his stomach. He assumed this was it - the last time they would talk? That Virgil perceived it would be all or nothing from his side, and that Cepheus would what? Find it too awkward? A little, yes, but he was older and wiser - and they both knew in different circumstances friendship would be more.

“No,” Cepheus spoke at last, “I more wondered if you might find it awkward - if your expectations were... different, weren’t … met so to speak.” Cepheus gestured animatedly with his hands, as if trying to untangle the very conversation between them in the air.

“We are men who will cross paths as fate has intended, Virgil. Better to walk it as friends, don’t you think?” He appealed. “And well, time narrows the age gap.” He uttered the last and hastily lifted his mug to his lips, cheekbones highlighted pink above the rim.

He felt the nervousness in his stomach unclench bit by bit, relieved that Cepheus didn't want a clean cut from him or something awful like that. The older wizard even seemed surprised by the implication. Virgil had absolutely no idea how he managed to fall for someone this genuinely nice.

              "Better to walk it as friends, don’t you think? And well, time narrows the age gap."

"Friends, yes," the younger wizard laughed self-consciously, blushing. "If you say so." There wasn't an easy solution to how he felt - on one hand still absolutely smitten and, on the other, a little cautious. They could be friends of course but not in the same light and easy way he was friends with his own peers; that was a bittersweet reality.

Virgil gently nudged the affectionate cat off his lap, getting ready to stand up. "I should probably go," he smiled at the older man, "I need to put away some of the things I bought at the market."

His morning at the weekend market, buying fresh vegetables and artisan breads, felt like eons ago. He wasn't keen on staying in the flat. As much as he was besotted by Cepheus, he was still raw from the sting of truth: Ceph liked and was attracted to him, yet he still rejected Virgil. Sitting here with tea and cat would be unnecessarily torturous.

"Thanks for the tea," he reached down to give Claude one more scratch. "I'll see you around, Cepheus."