It’s strange to be back.
It’s been four years but it feels like a lifetime. He’d thought himself so grown up, so clever, but looking back now he’s embarrassed by everything. He’d been a naïve idiot and he’d had his heart broken as a consequence. He tells himself that his lingering emotions are just because of Blanchard’s veela blood, a lingering impact from the seductive, supernatural charms the creatures were known for, though he knows it’s a lie. No matter what he’d said to Blanchard.
He pauses in the courtyard to look around. It’s odd, seeing the castle empty; he’d rarely been alone in his time as a student, popular and influential enough that he’d normally had a group of others around him, had enjoyed his time and had found it far more of a home than his family estate had ever been. When he’d left, he’d never expected to be back. At the time it had been a relief to the place, the memories, and most importantly Blanchard, behind him.
He’s still not sure why he’d accepted the position. He’d qualified as an auror two years ago and had enjoyed the work, though his career was overshadowed by his father’s infamy. Outside of the bubble of Slytherin purebloods he’d surrounded himself with at Hogwarts, it had quickly become clear just how unpopular his family was with the Gryffindor hero-types that had made up most of his training class. He’d managed to achieve an uneasy sort of peace with most of them, had eventually clawed his way up to being invited to casual drinks after work and even a wedding invite, but he’d never entirely fit in. Maybe that’s why he’d accepted the entirely unexpected invitation to cover a vacant position as Transfigurations teacher for a year. Maybe he’d just needed a change. He can just see the papers now; first he’d broken his engagement, two months before the wedding (yesterday, it would have been yesterday), and now he’d thrown in his career to teach.
He’d already decided he was making a mistake, but his pride had stopped him from pulling out.
If nothing else, he could at least make Blanchard’s life miserable for a bit. Gabriel is still seething from the easy way the older man had tossed him aside, had told him it was a mistake, as if it was all just some amusement that had come to an end once Gabriel had been close to graduating and they wouldn’t have to sneak around anymore. Fun and games while there were no consequences for the half veela, but the first hint of a real relationship had sent the older man running. Gabriel wonders how many others he’s done the same thing to. Gabriel had almost given up his family and his inheritance on the belief that what they’d had was real; at least, he supposed, he’d been cut loose before he’d managed to make any more of a fool of himself.
He sweeps a hand across his forehead and forces himself to let it go, at least for now. He’d rather die than admit to Blanchard just how much he still thought of him, and he’s always been adept at masking his feelings. He tries on a smirk for size and gives the courtyard one last glance, nervous despite himself, before sweeping into the castle. Best to bite the bullet and get this over with before he spends too much longer ruminating on it.
It’s embarrassing how well he remembers the way to the professor’s office. Relieved that the castle is empty, because it allows him to go over what he intends to say, how he intends to act, each piece carefully moulded into a pretence of nonchalant heartlessness. He’s determined to act as if their brief fling had been just that, not the promise of forever Gabriel had been mistakenly hoping for.
He hovers in the doorway for a few moments and looks at the man he’d once been in love with. For a moment he’s frozen, suddenly doubting himself, wishing he was anywhere but here. The moment lingers, stretches out into infinity, calling him to just leave before he’s noticed. No. Fuck this, and fuck Blanchard. He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms across his chest and commits himself.
“Thought I might find you here, Blanchard.” He’s proud of how clearly he gets the words out, at the bored, dispassionate tone he manages to find. Breathes out a hint of a laugh, mocking, as he tears his eyes away from those golden curls before his lingering glances can betray him. “Guess nothing ever changes around here. Still terrorising the students?”
Gabriel has changed. He’s not fresh faced and eighteen anymore; the rigorous training he’d been put through has bulked him out and he’s managed to snatch another few inches, no longer the lithe seeker he’d once been. He’s colder now, harder, and much better at getting exactly what he wants. The naivety has sloughed off and left something much more guarded behind.
You Cut Me So Deep [ HP AU ]
Posted 05-07-2021, 01:21 PM
This post was last modified: 05-08-2021, 02:52 PM by Étienne Blanchard
