The Chronicles of Blood and Fire (HP Fanfic)

The first week after the courtyard incident passed without disruption. Whispers trailed in Caelum's wake, yes—but nothing he hadn't endured before. He walked through hallways like a ghost cloaked in silence, with only Evran and Bastian at his sides, pretending not to notice the curious eyes or half-heard murmurs.

But in the second week, it shifted.

The whispers grew louder. Sharper. Laced with fear.

By Thursday, the entire school seemed to recoil at Caelum's presence. Conversations halted when he entered a room. Students clutched books tighter or conveniently remembered somewhere else they had to be. Even Evran's usual chatter dulled, and Bastian stopped meeting his gaze.

That afternoon, in Transfiguration with Hufflepuff, Caelum barely noticed the lesson. He was too aware of the glances flicked toward him. From behind, beside, even across the classroom. The tension was suffocating.

"Caelum!"

He turned. Cedric Diggory, standing by the desks, hesitated for a moment before speaking again.

"Did you... see this?" Cedric held out a crumpled parchment—a flyer.

On it was a crude recreation of a Ministry classification form. Under 'Name: Caelum Sanguine', bold letters read:

"Classified: Being – Probationary Magical Creature"

Beneath that, in ink-smudged scrawl:

Subject is an experimental custody case under Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Aggressive history. Vampiric traits. Raised in containment."

Cedric looked genuinely troubled. "This has been going around since this morning. Professor Sprout confiscated a stack of them, but it's all anyone's talking about."

Caelum said nothing.

He didn't need to. He already knew who was behind this.

Silas Avery.

Of course it was Silas.

Dragging his name through the mud was one thing. But implicating Amelia—she who fought so hard for him, who gave him a home—was a different matter entirely.

Later that day, back in their shared classroom during a moment when Professor McGonagall had stepped out, the atmosphere grew taut again. And then, Silas spoke.

Loudly. Clearly.

"So," he drawled, "the Ministry's pet experiment finally snapped. Maybe they should check if your precious guardian has some magical creature blood herself. Might explain her fondness for strays."

The temperature in the room dropped—and then surged in an instant.

"Enough!"

Caelum's voice cracked like a whip, and with it came a pulse of heat and pressure that rolled through the room like a silent explosion. The candle flames flickered violently. Inkpots rattled on desks.

Silas flinched. But then he smiled. That same arrogant, knowing smile.

"See?" he said softly, to no one in particular. "The beast always shows itself."

Caelum didn't speak. He didn't need to. The damage was done.

He could feel it—the unease in the room. Even from Evran. Even from Bastian.

That night, Caelum wasn't at The Great Hall, Instead, he found his way to the Astronomy Tower, The cold wind tugged at his robes as he leaned against the stone railing. Caelum exhaled slowly, watching the breath curl like smoke in the air. He knew he shouldn't have reacted. He shouldn't have let Silas Avery get under his skin.

Even with the vampiric traits that now ran through his veins—sharpened instincts, frayed edges of control—he had always been able to rein it in. He had mastered the art of silence, of walking through life unnoticed when he chose. But not today.

Not when they dragged Amelia into it.

His jaw clenched. Of all the things he could endure—whispers, hatred, isolation—it was the idea of her name being tainted that shook him. Amelia Bones, who had risked her career, her reputation, and perhaps her life to shield him. She had pulled him from the cold, from the nightmare of Greystone, and given him not just shelter, but dignity, and he owed her. Too much. More than he could ever say aloud.

For a moment longer he stood there, breathing the cold air.

Then he heard a voice, along with approaching footsteps.

"The Black Lake's better if you're trying to brood alone, you know. Prefects still patrol up here. Even if climbing this ladder's a bloody chore."

He didn't turn. He didn't need to.

It's Vesper Blackbourne.