Elysia hadn’t seen him properly in years and yet he looked the same. Unlike her. There was a difference between night and day from the angry, unconfident teenager she had been and the confident, self-assured powerful auror she was now. Though a lot of her success had to do with the vampire professor standing before her.
As soon as their eyes collided, her confidence and self-assurance wavered and suddenly she was that same girl who declared she liked him right before she had to leave Hogwarts after graduation. Elysia didn’t have traditional robes on either, merely a sleeveless black shirt, fitted jeans she got from a muggle shop, and a simple gold band around her bicep that possessed magical abilities. Her hair was pulled up tight into a high ponytail that flowed down to her mid-back. Her lips quirked up slightly from one end as D’Ablo came closer.
All those letters she sent his way came to her mind. She wondered if he read the Daily Prophet about her latest patronus charm spell aimed at the dementors. She wondered if he knew what she had been thinking about. Her lips began to part to say hello, but cool fingers had grasped hers, raising her hand to his surprisingly soft lips. He pressed a kiss there in a simple greeting, but it spoke volumes to her and caused her insides to tumble around. She desperately wished they were alone right now.
“Nice to see you too, Professor.” Ha. Like she hadn’t been courting him for the past ten years. Like she didn’t want to kiss him senseless right now. Instead, the 28 year old auror cocked her head to the side and put on her best smirk. “Is this how you greet all your former students?”
He’d been fond of her while she was his student but his feelings had not gone any deeper than that-- he hadn’t allowed them to. In his time at Hogwarts, students crushing on him happened more often than it should have. None had ever confessed to him during their graduation, however, and none of them had told him so plainly to wait for them, and as a result none had struck him more than Elysia. He’d been following her accomplishments since then and hardly recognizes her-- from the angry young lady that everyone had thought was a hopeless case, to a successful, famous, and sought-after auror.
And Lord, she’d gotten beautiful. He meets her eyes, determined to keep his gaze locked on them-- any once-over he gives her (and the multiple ones after that) would be far too obvious. Though his eyes linger on her muscular arms, on her lips, on the dip of her neck at her collarbone . . . of course, he’d completely failed at not looking her up and down. But still, he meets her eyes when he grasps her hand and brings it to his lips, only lowering them once he plants a light kiss on the back of her hand. He smiles up at her as he releases her hand, shrugging slightly at the light, banter-y joke.
Only the ones who order me to wait for them. I see you’re well. And please, it’s D’Ablo now. You haven’t been my student for ten years. Ten years of letters, ten years of Daily Prophet articles, the recent one about her Patronus still open on his desk. Those ten years that she was courting him, and he’d waited. A very impressive ten years. That he says with a knowing smile. Have you eaten yet? We could take a walk down to Hogsmeade. There’s no vampire-friendly options there, so he might end up drinking water, but they could look at it as a chat over butterbeer.
