Vesper Blackbourne had always prided herself on being composed—aloof, even. Observing from the shadows was second nature, much like her family name suggested. The world of Hogwarts, with its petty rivalries and predictable house drama, rarely stirred her blood. But he did.
Caelum Sanguine—half-vampire, half-enigma—was an oddity even by Hogwarts standards. There had been other magical beings admitted into the school over the centuries, but none quite like him. His mere existence blurred the line between the Beings and the Wizards, a distinction the Ministry clung to with almost obsessive rigidity. And the whispers that followed him weren't mere idle gossip—they were history in the making.
The Greystone House scandal, the Ministry hearings, the downfall of The Rosier family—those weren't just gossip; they were political tremors. And through it all, Caelum stood at the center like some pale, flickering flame refusing to be extinguished.
Even more intriguing was the quiet report she'd overheard in her father's study. Her father, Dorian Blackbourne, wasn't one to speak idly. If he said the boy had cast spells wandlessly at six and killed an adult wizard in combat, then it was true. The Ministry hadn't known what to do with him then. She wondered if they still didn't.
Now, here she was, standing beside that same boy on the Astronomy Tower—alone under the stars, face-to-face with the object of her carefully concealed fascination. His hood was down for once, revealing a pale, sharp-featured face framed by dark hair, and golden eyes that shimmered faintly under the moonlight. Vesper tilted her head slightly, unable to stop the thought from slipping out.
"What a treat."
Caelum turned to her, one brow raised. "What?"
She blinked. "Nothing," she said, brushing it off, though a faint smirk lingered.
He stared for a moment, then, curiously, didn't press further.
Instead, she stepped closer and spoke again—quieter now.
"The Averys and the Rosiers have always been intertwined. Old money, old blood. Even during the war, members from both families wore the Dark Mark. though some managed to escape punishment by claiming the Imperius Curse. A familiar excuse."
"Their alliance didn't end with You-Know-Who's fall. Business deals—some legal, some not—continued in secret. When Adrian Rosier was captured five years ago, the shockwave hit more than just his family. The Averys suffered too."
Caelum's golden eyes narrowed slightly. "The fake document Silas spread… the one classifying me as a Being. You think his family helped?"
"I know they did," she said. "Something like that doesn't just appear in the hands of a first-year without powerful connections."
He was silent again, eyes drifting toward the stars.
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked, finally.
She considered him for a moment, then shrugged with affected lightness. "Because my family was once allied with the Rosiers. The Blackbournes are minor nobles—some even, would call us dark-aligned, but we've always been more… cautious than the others. When the Rosiers fell, we benefited. Coincidence, perhaps. But even my father admits that our rise over the past five years came from the vacuum they left behind."
A dry smile touched her lips.
"So, you could say my family owes you a debt. Indirectly."
Caelum blinked, seemingly caught off guard by the honesty. Before he could respond, she added—
"Also… I like you."
He froze, brows furrowing. "…What?"
Her smirk widened. "Let me rephrase that, I like vampires. Fascinating magical species. Dangerous, elegant, tragic. Would be a shame if my favorite subject of study dropped out of school just because of a few petty nobles."
The tension broke like a fragile thread, and Caelum let out something halfway between a chuckle and a sigh. "You really don't care how strange that sounds?"
"Not at all," she said smoothly, turning on her heel. "Now, don't stay up here all night. It gets colder near dawn."
She descended the first step, then paused. Without turning around, her voice floated back to him—calm and edged with understanding.
"Just remember this, Caelum. In the end, people like Silas, the other nobles… maybe even the whole wizarding world—they only care about one thing."
She looked over her shoulder, eyes glinting.
"Power. And whether they can control it, or be destroyed by it."
And then she was gone.
Caelum remained where he was, alone beneath the stars, her words echoing in his mind.
She descended the stairs, footsteps light.
But her thoughts weren't as relaxed.
The Averys and Rosiers weren't just retaliating. They were trying to isolate him. And from what she'd gathered… they were doing it urgently.
It wasn't vengeance. There is more.
And that, Vesper Blackbourne thought grimly, was far more interesting—and far more dangerous.