Belated
Vic,
I got permission from the Auror Department to visit Hogwarts and question a select few students based on an anonymous tip. However, I will say that my source was incredibly gorgeous and I wish I could spend more stolen hours with her. I mean, them. Like I said, the questioning will be handled in a way so that no one could suspect the informant.
This investigation will take place next week. I'll look forward to seeing you then.
Love,
Teddy x
Victoire tucked the letter away from the breakfast table, feeling concerned despite Teddy's assurance that Salvatore wouldn't be able to put together that Victoire put him on Teddy's radar. At the very least, she still felt certain that she'd done the right thing by telling Teddy about Salvatore's suspicious behavior - though that didn't make her feel less upset about the whole thing.
She made her way to Potions, taking her usual seat next to Salvatore. He looked up at her as she walked in, giving her a smoldering look that told her he'd been thinking about that day in the forest as much as she had been. He said nothing to her in greeting and she felt quite awkward sitting with two distinct facts: that he was a suspect in the Auror attacks thanks to her, and that she wanted him despite his current moral ambiguity.
Professor Peacock asked them to begin copying notes that he'd left on the blackboard, and Victoire dutifully opened her notebook and dated the page.
"It's October 23rd?" he asked, frowning at her notebook.
She looked at him blankly. "Yes. Why?" she asked, though she really meant to ask why should that make you look troubled?
"It's Scorpio season now," he muttered, looking put-out.
She blinked. "Do you dislike Scorpios or something?"
He glared at her. "You said you were a Libra. That means your birthday passed."
Her blank expression softened as she began to understand his strangeness. "Oh...yeah, um, it was like a week and a half ago."
"I didn't know," he grumbled, looking murderous for some strange reason.
"Don't feel bad about it. I didn't tell you," she said, her cheeks pinked at his reaction to missing her birthday.
Salvatore looked as though he might argue with her about his being upset over the situation, but he remained quiet and instead scrawled his notes. They didn't share any more words for the rest of the lesson, though Victoire's head was attempting to swim though the murky sea of emotions his reaction created in her.
She'd thought that the passion shared between them was most likely purely physical for him. Though he showed signs of jealousy previously, that meant nothing to her about how someone like him might feel towards her - he could've just been a possessive asshole. Jealousy doesn't equate caring. But for him to look this upset over not being able to wish her a happy birthday was odd for someone who had no feelings for you whatsoever. And the fact that Salvatore might be feeling the same pull towards her that she feels towards him made this situation a whole lot more complex rather than simpler.
***
Victoire sat in the library finishing her up her Charms homework. Just as she packed her belongings back into her bag, Salvatore stood in front of her imposingly. She had a feeling that he'd been watching her and waiting for her to finish before making his move.
"Salvatore," she breathed, his presence catching her off-guard. It was one thing being confronted with him in Potions when she expected it and quite another to meet him elsewhere - their interactions outside of Potions tended to get a little intense.
"Come with me," was all he said, and her curiosity got the better of her as she obeyed, though she resented being commanded around. They left the library, going up several staircases at a fast past.
"Where are we going?" she called.
"Always so many questions with you," he complained half-heartedly. He led her to the seventh floor corridor across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and began pacing the length of the wall.
"Is there a reason you dragged me here to see you strutting like you're on a catwalk?" she teased.
"I don't strut," he hissed just as a door appeared where before there was none.
Victoire's jaw dropped and he smirked at her reaction, pulling the door open and gesturing for her to step inside. She found a small, comfortable room with a couch and table. The table had a record player on it.
She looked to Salvatore questioningly, and for once, he answered her unspoken question.
"This is the Room of Requirement. If you walk past it three times and think about whatever you need, this room will show up and it'll contain exactly what you ask from it. While you're in here, too."
She looked around in awe, convincing herself that she desperately needed a crown. One appeared on the table for her, silver with embedded aquamarine and sapphire. It was a stunning thing of beauty, even more so than Ravenclaw's diadem. She squealed in excitement and placed it on her head, wishing next for a bottle of wine which appeared instantly.
Salvatore watched her enjoyment with vague amusement; looking as though he were fighting revealing it.
"But why did you take me here?" she asked at last.
He sat himself on the couch, conjuring himself up a glass of the wine and sipping it. "Consider it your belated birthday present. I figured your other admirers each got you something," he said bitterly, "And I didn't want to miss out on my chance to do the same. So I figured I'd take you here to learn of the gift that keeps on giving.
"This place is amazing," she admitted, in awe of its magic as she sat beside Salvatore on the sofa. She looked towards the vinyl on the table - it was Ed Sheeran. She smiled as she realized he'd conjured that for them. She looked to him for an explanation, an affection in her gaze that made him uncomfortable.
"You mentioned him to me once," he said dismissively by way of explanation. "I figured he must be a cousin of yours or something since he's a ginger like the rest of you family."
She snorted a laugh before stopping abruptly as she remembered the conversation in question. He'd smiled when she made a passing joke about Ed Sheeran; which meant he knew who he was. This was huge because Ed Sheeran was a muggle singer. She knew all about muggle artists from Jade, her muggleborn bestie. But how would the pureblooded Salvatore Rookwood know about a muggle artist?
She put the vinyl on and the acoustic version of 'I Don't Care' filled the room. She smiled contentedly for him as he looked at her with something she recognized as uncertainty underneath his mask of nonchalance.
"How do you know about Ed Sheeran, Salvatore?" she asked lightly, her eyes imploring.
He met her eyes, not shying away from at least this one question. "I spend some time in the muggle world sometimes to escape..." he said slowly. He didn't say anymore, and she moved in closer to him as his eyes focused on the wall at the other end of the room.
"Escape from what?" she pressed softly.
He met her eyes with no answer, as expected. There were his usual under eye bags there.
"How did you find this room?"
His posture loosened some at her change in direction. "I was tired and needed a place to crash once."
She raised a hand to his face and stroked it without thinking. He held strong and firm, as if trying to prove his toughness; his resilience to her touch. But as she brushed his fingers along the back of his head, he melted into her hand; pressing into her touch. Neither of them were sure who'd conjured the bed, but a large bed appeared and Victoire led him by the hand to it.
"You look tired now, too. Do you get enough sleep?" she asked, not bothering to conceal her worry.
"No," he answered gruffly, and she resisted snapping at him for his tone; knowing that it was part of the mask that slipped whenever he was around her.
"Well then," she started, continuing to stroke his head as they laid in bed together, "Let's change that."
He didn't pull away from her as she pulled his head onto her chest and massaged his head. And as Rookwood fell asleep cuddled atop Victoire, he had the first restful sleep he'd had in a while - even sweet dreams.