✯ ✯ ✯
If Antares had to describe the woman standing before him, he'd say she remained unchanged. Well, not quite— she did cut her hair. She had bangs now, long ones that framed her face.
As Vita took the stool to his left, that mischievous glimmer in her eyes, Antares couldn't help but feel a wave of nostalgia wash over him. It shouldn't have. It had only been a couple of months since he had seen her.
"Lu," Vita said with a playful grin, using his middle name as she always did when she wanted to tease him. "You're looking positively professorial. Hogwarts suits you."
"Did you have to look up that word?" he replied, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Vita punched his shoulder, her curls bouncing as she did. "Still a prat, I see." She turned to Rosmerta, who was trying and failing to eavesdrop on their conversation. "A pint of Simison, would you please, Ros."
She looked back at him with a knowing smirk. "I work with Felix Rosier. You know he's cousins with Daphne and Astoria Greengrass, right? He told me they had you over at the Greengrass Mansion earlier in the summer. 'Said that they were going neutral. "
"Figures. So, how's life in the Ministry treating you?" Antares asked, downing the last of his gin. He waved a hand at Rosmerta, pointing to his drink. To his luck, the barmaid placed the bottle of Lichleaf in front of him.
Vita's eyes grew wide in excitement. A tall frothing glass of dark beer floated in front of her, coming and landing on the other side of her hand. "Oh, you know, the usual magical creature mayhem. But I love it. There's never a dull moment."
She took a short sip.
"I heard you're back at Hogwarts as a professor. It's about time they recognized your brilliance!" Vita cheered.
"Professor's Assistant," Antares corrected, pouring himself another glass. "With the staff track record, they need someone who will be able to fill in the gaps."
It didn't feel right— lying to her as he was, but the fewer people who knew, the better.
His friend pointed her finger at him. "That's no small feat," she disagreed, "You have to have all your N.E.W.T.s, which I know you do. I was there to help you study for them."
Antares hummed. He remembered how stressful that time had been. They spent long evenings in the library and stole the books after curfew so they could study more. If it wasn't Vita who sat there with him, it was Adrian, or sometimes even Penelope Clearwater, to the dismay of her ex-beau, Percy Weasley, who hated him for threatening to swipe the position of Head Boy. And he did, a year later.
"You're doing exceptionally, I hear," he said. "Bagged a position at the Ministry and earn your galleons by sticking it to the Wizengamot."
"I love a good fight," Vita nodded, "and they were trying to reduce the centaur territory in the Forbidden Forest again. They've already cut it in half!"
The blonde took a long sip of her Simison, "I had to let them have it," she said, shaking her head. "Anyway, I thought you would've pursued a career back in Australia."
Antares leaned back on his stool, contemplating Vita's question. It was true that returning to Australia had been one of his options after graduating from Hogwarts. He technically did, becoming a warlock and attending duelling tournaments all around the globe. It paid well, especially if you won, but Antares now had something that anchored him to London.
"Vita," Antares said softly. "I found them. I know who they are."
The Macmillan girl sobered instantly, her mouth dropping an inch. She knew what he meant. They had talked about it before, many times, the missing piece of his family tree. Despite Marissa telling him exactly who he was and where he came from, it wasn't as if he could blurt it out to everyone who asked. It ached all the same— knowing who his father was and understanding he would never get to meet him. He could see the astonishment in her eyes.
"Your mum finally spilled the beans?!" she gasped wildly.
"She did. I know everything now," Antares confirmed, his voice tinged with trepidation. His fingers spun the glass of gin on its edge as she turned to face her.
"Well?" Vita demanded.
Antares sighed, giving furtive glances over both shoulders, checking if anyone was listening in on them. The pub was rowdy, that was for sure, but no one, not even Rosmerta, was paying attention to them. He leaned in close to Vita, his mouth levelling past her cheek. To anyone who did catch a peek, it looked like two adults, young and torrid.
"My father was a Black," he divulged before pulling back and knocking back the rest of his drink. "I'm Sacred Twenty-Eight."
Vita's eyes widened in surprise, and she gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth. "No way," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the noise in the pub. "You're telling me you're related to those insufferable pure-blood fanatics?"
She looked away briefly before her head snapped back like an elastic band. "Your da is a murder—" she squeaked.
Antares quickly slapped a hand over her mouth. "Merlin, Vi, keep your voice down," he hissed.
Vita's eyes were wide with disbelief as she nodded. Antares removed his hand from her mouth, doing another check around the pub. With a nervous chuckle, the blonde composed herself and leaned away from him. "Sorry, sorry," she said, her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper.
"And for the record, my father is not a murderer," Antares denied. "Why do people think it's him? No, Regulus was my father."
"Regulus," Vita repeated as if trying to connect the pieces. "He... he was Sirius Black's younger brother, right?"
The boy nodded wordlessly, turning back to the bar. He brought his elbow up to rest on the table. The Macmillan girl stared at him for what seemed an eternity. As the seconds grew on, Antares became increasingly worried about her reaction. He could feel her ocean-coloured eyes boring a hole in the side of his head. When he finally looked back at her, she blinked dumbly.
"Shit," she breathed, "you're basically a prince. A pure-blood prince!"
Antares scoffed at her.
Vita grinned victoriously, nudging him playfully. "No, really! Now that you're part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, you could be a real catch for some witches out there."
"I highly doubt that being part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight makes me a 'catch' for anyone," he replied dryly. "Besides, I don't think my newfound family ties will do anything to liven my dating prospects."
"Are you kidding me, Lu? You're a pure-blood from an ancient lineage, the only respectable living Black. You were in Slytherin and graduated with flying colours. You have the whole tall, dark and mysterious thing going on. Plus, you're Australian!" she ranted happily. "Every pure-blood witch and their mother will be after you."
Antares rolled his eyes.
"Don't let Oya Zabini get her hands on you," Vita teasingly sang. "She'll try to make you her eighth husband."
"Vi, just stop," he whined, reaching for the bottle.
Vita laughed, enjoying the playful banter. "Alright, alright, I'll stop. But it's kind of exciting, isn't it? Discovering this whole other side of you," she said, waving her hand at him.
As he thought back to the events of the past few weeks, 'exciting' was entirely incorrect. Antares had burnt through more emotions than he knew what to do with. Terrifying was a more apt word.
"It was... many things," he settled on. "I'm not going to let it ruin me, that's for sure."
"That's the spirit!" Vita exclaimed, raising her second glass of Simison in a toast. "To the new and improved Antares Kelly, Pure-blood Prince and Hogwarts' Newest Professor's Assistant!"
Antares chuckled, raising his own glass to clink it with Vita's. They sat and reminisced, sharing stories and laughing together.
He should be at the castle now, mapping the hallways or setting possible defenses, but the deeper he sank into the glow of fond memories, he couldn't find it in himself to care. For one night, it could wait.
Just for tonight, he thought.
✯ ✯ ✯
After another two drinks with Vita, he decided against flooing. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a soft silver glow over the landscape. It made the forest and the hills shaded with a dark purple hue that Antares found calming. When he looked up, he could see the silhouette of the castle. It loomed in its grandeur.
Like before, his things levitated in a trail behind him, much to Peri's dismay, as she was still in her cage. She made a point to screech sharply.
"Don't you start," Antares called, pointing behind him without turning around. "I let you out earlier, and the first thing you did was peck at a nest of bowtruckles."
Hoo!
He didn't speak owl, not that anyone could, but he knew she wasn't apologizing for her actions. Antares sighed, knowing he would have to deal with her disgruntled mood later. What were the chances he could avoid any professors upon his entrance to the castle? It was late, so it was wholly possible. He was more than a few drinks deep and more loose-lipped than he'd like. He would hate to see Snape emerging from the shadows like that muggle comic hero Cole once told him about.
As Antares approached, the massive castle towering over him grew larger. He passed through the large gates— left open just for him, trying to walk as silently as possible, his steps light and deliberate. He swiftly ascended the stairs to the front doors. To his relief, the entrance hall was empty. The soft light from the enchanted candles illuminated the marble floors, and the portraits were all preparing to sleep, some already doing so. He made his way up the grand staircase, taking care to be as quiet as possible.
His destination was the Faculty Tower, where his room awaited. The shifting castle made it tricky for newcomers to find their way around, but after seven years at Hogwarts, Antares knew which passage to take. Stopping in front of the painting of George von Rheticus, he mumbled out, "Scurrilous scoundrel," waiting for the portrait to give way to the shortcut to the seventh-floor corridor.
Popping his head out from the end of the shortcut, he could see the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Turning his head, he caught the stairway that led down to the Faculty Tower entrance. He was surprised the castle hadn't decided to pull a fast one on him, moving the floors and shifting the passageways. Heading down, he found the oak double doors that kept him from his new abode, but before he could heave them open, the doors swung wide, revealing Professor McGonagall in a long nightgown.
"Mr. Kelly," Professor McGonagall said sternly, raising an eyebrow at him. "Out so late on the first night back?"
Antares straightened up, trying to compose himself despite the alcohol-induced courage lingering in his veins. "Professor McGonagall," he greeted. "I apologize for the late hour. I was catching up with an old friend at The Three Broomsticks and lost track of time."
The stern expression on her face softened as she regarded him. "Well, I hope you had an enjoyable evening," she said. "But do remember, as a member of the Hogwarts staff, you are expected to set a good example for the students. Late-night excursions are to be kept to a minimum."
"Yes, of course," Antares agreed, feeling only slightly embarrassed for being caught in such a situation. "I will certainly keep that in mind, but with all due respect, considering my role here, I have a feeling that impromptu excursions will be obligatory," he bobbed on his feet.
Professor McGonagall's lips twitched, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes. "I can understand the nature of your duties, Mr. Kelly," she said, her tone still firm but less stern. "However, I trust you to exercise your discretion appropriately."
Antares nodded earnestly. "I assure you, I take my responsibilities very seriously."
"I have no doubt about that," she replied, a small smile gracing her lips. She moved away from the doors, giving way so Antares could step on through. "I trust you will be able to find your way to your new chambers?"
"Certainly, Professor," Antares said sincerely, secretly surging with pride at her words.
"Oh, Minerva will do just fine now," the professor corrected. "You are a student no longer."
Antares blinked in surprise, not expecting such a casual invitation from the Deputy Headmistress. "Certainly, Minerva," he amended, "and please, call me Antares."
"Very well," McGonagall accepted. "Goodnight, Antares."
With that, Antares watched as Professor McGonagall— no, Minerva, disappeared down the hall. After gathering his thoughts, he continued down the opposite corridor until he reached his new chambers. As he entered, he was greeted by a cozy and well-appointed space. A comfortable seating area was positioned by the window, offering a stunning view of the moonlit Hogwarts grounds. It was the perfect spot for him to unwind after a long day.
A magnificent, life-sized portrait of the duel for the Elder Wand between Emeric the Evil and Egbert the Egregious was attached to the ceiling. He didn't know if this was the real painting, but it's what inspired Antares to become a dueller in the first place.
Walking to the other side of the room, he faced a luxurious four-poster bed draped with deep emerald curtains. The exhaustion from his walk from Hogsmeade and the fuzziness in his brain seemed to catch up with him then. Releasing the levitation on his luggage, he let them fall gently to various places in his new room, remembering to open the door to Peri's cage. The owl gave a content trill, gliding out of the metal case and over to the window, which Antares promptly opened. He dropped onto his bed, watching her fly out, and removed his jacket and shoes.
It took just minutes before he fell asleep, dreaming of nothing.
✯ ✯ ✯
I LOVE VITA MACMILLAN. PERIODT
How do y'all like carefree (and tipsy) Ares?
And yes, Ares compares Snape to Batman.
Be sure to VOTE and COMMENT to show your support. FEEDBACK is always appreciated and feel free to ask any questions you may have!
~Hircines