felicejules

[felicejules]

[felicejules]

Ser Freckles // S. Sallow

Rating: T

WC: 2,743

Summary: As heir to the throne, the princess takes appointing her sworn protector very seriously.

A/N: Submitted as part of a writing challenge because I'm a glutton for starting AU projects. inspired heavily by HOTD (I've been looking for an excuse to use the name Gawayne). Much love to the pals who keep Knight!Seb living in my brain <3

“Now that you are of age, and officially the heir to the throne, it’s time you appoint your first sworn sword.”

She looked up to Fig as they walked down the stone stairs, the excited chatter from the courtyard echoing off the walls.  Fig had been her tutor all her life, and only now did she realize her lessons with him had a greater purpose.  She was the only daughter of the king’s dearly departed brother, a king who lacked any heirs of his own.  And now that she’d turned eighteen, with no hopes for a male cousin in sight, she had been formally invested as the heir apparent.

Fig was no lowly court tutor, she realized. He’d been placed with her from her youth, preparing her for what had seemed like a distant possibility that she might one day become queen. Lord Eleazar Fig, a member of the King’s Counsel, had been priming her to take power all along.

”I’m not sure why I can’t keep Lady Singer,” she mumbled, kicking her skirts as they continued their descent. “She’s been my guardian for as long as I can remember.”

”Lady Singer is a governess,” Fig reminded her. “And in no way capable of being your sworn protector.  The young man you choose today will become a knight, sworn to your king's guard.  Can you remind me what the function of your king's guard is?”

”My queen’s guard,” she snipped, emphasizing the word, “will protect my counsel and me from harm, as well as my future heirs.”

“Precisely, Princess.” Fig smiled. “It’s largely a symbolic role considering the relative peace our realm has seen this past one hundred years, even more so with the city watch taking guard of the castle.  But the king—er, queen’s guard is a deep rooted tradition each house takes very seriously.  The gentlemen we’ve assembled today for your selection come from some of the great houses of the realm.  Others have been lauded for their bravery and skill in the battlefield.”

The princess and Lord Fig walked to the balcony, the crowd below falling into silence. There were six men (boys, she observed, especially considering she’d grown up with four of them around court) standing in the courtyard below.  They all wore gleaming armor, save for the last, wearing a dull set without embellishments.  Each had a pennant with their house sigil, members of their families standing behind them. The animals on each pennant were embroidered with gleaming metallic thread–lions, eagles, badgers, and snakes taking center, representing the great houses each family bowed to. 

Lord Fig took her hand, helping her stand on a stool to catch a better glimpse of her future knight.

”The first proposed candidate is Ser Leander Prewett,” Fig stated loudly. “Ser Leander is the second son of Lord Lyonel Prewett.  He is a fine duelist, trained by one of the land’s most notable swordsmen.”

She cocked her brow, observing the redhead below.  Tall, lithe, with a glorious mane of red hair.

”And rather shit on a horse,” she muttered under her breath. “Did you see him in the last tourney?”

”Horsemanship is not a requirement of a knight, Princess.” Fig muttered.

”He truly had no idea if he was facing the front, or the back.” She joked. 

Lord Fig concealed his laugh in a cough. He waved his arm, and Leander’s gleaming smile vanished into a rather sour expression as the next option stepped forward.

”Ser Garreth Weasley,” Fig announced. “The third son of Lord Gwayne Weasley.”

”I know Ser Garreth well,” she smiled demurely. “Is it not one of the oaths as my queen’s guard to take no wife, have no children, and to be sworn to uphold the duties of the crown until death or dismissal?”

”It is, Princess.”

She clicked her tongue. “I know very well my dear friend Lady Natsai would be quite upset if I took her beloved to my service.  I’d rather see the two of them happily married than split apart by duty.” She waved him backwards, knowing Natty would be pleased.  Garreth stepped back, cheeks red, but a relieved look on his face.

“The next option is Ser Amit Thakkar,” Fig looked down at his notes. “Son of the Dowager Lady Tara Thakkar. No notable tourney experience, he’s been—“

”Away for his studies in the new world,” the princess interjected. “I know Ser Amit quite well. Tell me, Ser, how was your research on the skies?  Anything new to report?”

“I’ve identified at least twelve constellations once lost to our maesters,” Amit announced excitedly. “And I do look forward to finding more.”

She tilted her head to Fig, eyebrows raised. “I do believe Ser Amit’s talents are better used with the college of maesters, rather than as a member of my queen’s guard.”

”Moving on,” Fig tutted. “Ser Duncan Hobhouse, son of—“

”No.”

”Okay, on to the next.” Fig winced, letting the young Duncan Hobhouse step back with a sigh. “Next is Ser Isaac Cooper. Son of Ser Tristan Cooper, the Lord Commander of the city watch.  Strong, steady, and good with a lance.  Ser Isaac has topped the tourney lists, specifically winning the tourney of Aranshire this past spring. ”

The princess chewed her lower lip as she appraised Ser Isaac.  He stood tall, black hair cropped closely to his head. His parents stood behind him proudly bearing the badger on their sigil.  Isaac gave her a beaming smile, followed by a rather obvious wink.

“I look forward to serving you, my princess, in all ways you see fit.” Isaac said loudly, followed by a showy bow. A gaggle of young ladies on the upper balcony giggled audibly, Ser Isaac blowing a kiss to his admirers.

The princess gagged, wrinkling her nose as she turned back to her tutor. 

”A tourney knight,” she huffed. “Tell me, Lord Fig, do any of these knights have real combat experience?”

Fig sighed deeply, beckoning forward the sixth option.  It was the knight in plain armor; unlike the others, he did not have a large gathering of family members behind him.  A thin, peaky girl stood by his side, wobbling on her feet as their sigil shook in her hands. The green velvet of the flag looked worn, but a silver snake had been embroidered into the fabric with metallic thread, red beads for eyes.  Behind them was a stern looking man, beard peppered with silver hairs.  

The boy paid them no attention, standing forward with his head bowed to her. 

“Ser Sebastian Sallow,” Fig cleared his throat. “The nephew of Ser Solomon Sallow, a former knight of the city watch.  He was dismissed from his post after the death of his brother, taking on the stewardship of his young niece and nephew.  Ser Solomon and his nephew Sebastian have taken the responsibility of patrolling the lower highlands, protecting their hamlets from ashwinders and poachers.”

She leaned forward over the railing, interest piqued by the humble knight below. “Tell me, Ser Sebastian, of your experience fighting against the ashwinder rebellion.”

He lifted his head, big brown eyes framed by an explosion of freckles. He had a round, boyish face for eighteen, thick brown hair descending in waves. A blush took over his cheeks as he dipped his head once more.

”I have fought against the ashwinders for the past five years, Princess.  For as long as my uncle has allowed me.” He said, tipping his head back towards the stern man. “The lower hamlets rarely see reinforcements from the city watch, so it is up to the residents themselves to gather arms.”

“And when did you become a knight, Ser Sebastian?”

Sebastian turned briefly to look at his uncle, who merely nodded. “The Lord Commander of the city watch was passing through our hamlet when he witnessed me apprehending a cohort of ashwinder assassins.” He adjusted his grip on the helmet in his hands, metal clanking as he shifted.  Unlike the others, there were no grand decorations, no feathery plumes attached to the helmet.  It was practical, well-worn steel that had seen battle many times before. “He knighted me on the field, after the battle.”

”One boy against twenty ashwinders,” Fig whispered in her ear. “Quite a feat.”

She braced her palms against the stone ledge, hair falling over her shoulders. He looked up at her intently now, eyes wide.  even with his armor on, she could see his throat bobbing, swallowing down his nerves.  

“That settles it for me. I choose Ser Sebastian Sallow.” 

The hall descended into loud whispers; the girl holding his sigil gasped with delight, while the man behind her dropped his mouth open in shock.  Sebastian knelt, but kept his gaze fixated upon her.  It was as if the chocolate brown orbs were burning into her, somewhere between admiration and curiosity. 

Fig gave her a knowing look. “Ser Sebastian it is.”

”I’ll leave the details to Ser Sebastian’s investiture to you, Lord Fig.” the princess said, stepping down from the stool. Her heels clattered against the floor, hands folded behind her back. “And measure him for new armor.  Something befitting my sworn protector.”

”The customary armor, of course, with your sigil on the pauldron.” Fig noted.

She paused, turning one last time towards her counsel.

”Don’t forget his snakes.” She reminded him. “Silver with ruby eyes.”

Fig tried to conceal his smile. “Yes, princess.”

“You know we’re not allowed in the armory,” Poppy hissed, trying to tug on her skirt. “Lady Singer–”

“Lady Singer can kiss my arse,” the princess declared, enjoying the way her lady in waiting’s cheeks flushed. “I would like to supervise the fitting.  Will you join me?”

“I think not,” Poppy lifted her nose. “I’ll be off to the library to meet with Imelda.  You should stay out of trouble.” the brunette warned.

The princess pulled open the heavy door of the armory, grinning at her friend. “Trouble is my middle name,” she sang, waving goodbye as she entered the room.  The normally bustling armory was quiet at midday, with most of the knights standing guard.  She stepped past the rows of white cloaks, all hung under their corresponding owner’s name.  Weapons were stacked against the wall on wooden racks; she wouldn’t dare go near the spears, swords, and morningstars for fear of tipping them over.  Her slippers pattered against the flagstone floors as she walked deeper into the chamber in search of her new knight.

“There you are,” she declared, seeing him standing on the pedestal. Ser Sebastian Sallow stood in his freshly tailored white breeches and shirt, half dressed in his new gilded armor.

“Princess,” the armorer bowed his head quickly, stepping away from Sebastian. “I did not realize you were coming in to supervise the fitting.”

“Is it not tradition?” she asked, circling the pedestal with an approving nod.

“It is,” the armor rubbed his hands together anxiously. “For the king.  But you are a young lady, it’s hardly appropriate for you to be in the armory with a knight in a state of undress–”

“Ser Sebastian is my choice,” she pointed out. “So I will supervise the fitting of his armor and his sword selection, just as my uncle did for his sworn swords.”

“As you wish, princess.” The armor nodded. “I’ll fetch his sword at once.”  He bowed, walking backwards out of the room.

“Are you always so commanding?” Ser Sebastian asked, a hand on his hip.

“Only when they’re so formal.” she grinned, crossing her arms. “The armor looks good on you.”

Sebastian’s cheeks flushed. “Thank you.” he stammered. “And thank you for honoring my house.” he gestured to his pauldron, decorated with the Sallow family sigil. Instead of the crudely carved 

The armorer returned, holding a glimmering sword with a checked handle. “His sword, your grace.” he handed it to her for inspection. “I shall return shortly with his cloak; the seamstress was just finishing the hem.” He backed out of the room once more, leaving the pair alone.

The princess bobbed her head as she held the sword in her hand, testing its weight. “Good balance,” she mused, tossing it from one hand to the other.

“You’re trained with a sword?” Sebastian asked, eyebrow cocked.

She gave him a toothy grin, swinging the sword from side to side. “My uncle thought it best that I was taught the same as any other prince of the realm.” 

“I certainly agree,” Sebastian offered. “I trained my sister as best as I could before coming to the capitol.”

“Well then, should we practice for your investiture?” She asked. “On your knees, then.”

Sebastian sank to the floor, beaming up at her obediently.  He tipped his chin upwards, right hand resting over his heart. 

“Do you swear to uphold the code of the kingsguard?” she asked, trying her best to remember the vows Lord Fig had tasked her with memorizing.

“I do,” Sebastian echoed.

“Do you swear to guard the king with all your might, and give your blood for him and his heirs?” She recited the words slowly and thoughtfully.  The sword was beginning to feel heavy in her hands, but Sebastian didn’t budge.  He stayed, knelt below her on the ground, closed fist bound to his chest.

“I do.”

“Do you swear to take no wife, father no children, hold no lands? Do you swear to guard your king’s secrets, obey his commands, defend his name and honor?”

The princess blinked down at her chosen knight, hovering the blade over his shoulder. His big, brown eyes stared back at her, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.  She hadn’t noticed the freckles on his lips; then again, she’d never been so close to him before.  He looked both like a knight and a boy all at once–his armor was unfinished, missing the pauldron on his left shoulder that would bear her sigil.  Sebastian’s messy hair stuck up in the back, and the princess felt the strong urge to pat it down.

She instead remained steady, blade in hand.

“Do you swear, Ser Sebastian?” she asked.

“I swear to take no wife, father no children, nor hold any lands.  I swear to guard my queen’s secrets, obey her commands, defend her name and honor. For as long as I breathe, my life is my queen’s.” Sebastian gave her a coy look, eyes glittering with mischief; he aimed to flatter her, charming the princess with his change in verbiage.

Two could play that game, she thought. The princess lifted her sword, tapping it on both of his shoulders.  “By the grace of the future queen, I name you Ser Kiss Arse.” she declared dramatically.

Sebastian choked, and the princess laughed.  Her whole body shook with her giggles, and Sebastian pouted. 

“No fair,” he complained. “Pick a better name.”

“Fine,” she wiped a tear from her eye. Feigning composure, she straightened her posture and gave him her best queenly glare. “By the grace of the future queen, I name you Ser Freckles.”

“You’re making a mockery of it,” Sebastian whined.

“We’re practicing, remember?” She snorted. “I promise, I’ll be much more official during the actual ceremony.”

Sebastian huffed. “Fine then.  But if I get a nickname, then you get one too.” he warned. “Princess Picky is what I’ll call you.”

The princess scoffed, backing away. “Who called me picky?”

Sebastian gave her a sheepish look, rubbing the back of his neck. “Everyone at court, actually. They thought you were too picky with your requirements of the kingsguard.  The public is fairly certain you’re making a mistake in picking me as your sworn sword.” his smile faltered, a wave of doubt crashing over his face. “My family has no riches, no influence at court.  I have nothing else to offer you.”

The princess chewed her lower lip, dragging the sword behind her as she leaned down to face her knight. “It is no mistake,” she murmured, pressing a hand to his shoulder. “You are the most deserving of the title.  I chose you. And if that makes me picky, so be it.”

Sebastian touched her wrist; the gesture shocked her, eyelashes fluttering from the surprise embrace.  But she did not move her hand–the princess kept it on his uncovered shoulder, her hair falling in her face as she looked down at her sworn protector.

“Princess Picky and Ser Freckles,” Sebastian joked. “An eclectic pair.”

She gave him an earnest smile. “I’d have it no other way.”

[felicejules]

Be me.

Think you'll be over this guy soon enough.

See this.

"Yeah, no…. <3"

I fell for you. 💚

[felicejules]

I'm not her

Chapter 6

Link to Chapter 5

Serious Tw: Grief, Bullying attempt, self-unaliving attempt (with an unforgivable curse)

For lack of any other places to rest my head (no, the floor wasn't an option), I eventually returned to my own house's common room, my heart pounding hard in my chest.

To my complete and utter surprise, it was Charlotte Morrison, of all people, who greeted me haughtily upon entering and proceeded to wrap me up in idle chit-chat. She all but escorted me to the dorms, glaring at anyone who tried to approach us.

Yesterday's Quidditch stunt hadn't cost me my Crossed Wands privileges, it seemed, and Charlotte, in her own way, made sure that I knew, even though she mostly talked about herself.

I appreciated her for it nonetheless, nodding along, when she regaled me with her Summoner's Court gossip.

Apparently, Leander Prewett was still in quite the sour mood that Sebastian had beat him in every possible regard, from duels to academics to quidditch to winning Clementine's affections.

Every other day, I would have rolled my eyes at that one, but not today. Instead, I just hummed, letting Charlotte prattle on until she left me in the safety of my dorm-room.

…

In the following days, whenever my still busy schedule (the Captain wouldn't tolerate me skipping Quidditch practice, and neither would Lucan have me miss Crossed Wands, both of which reminding me so via owl) allowed it, I returned to the inconspicuous but complex time-piece that sat below the stairs to the Defence-Against-the-Dark-Arts-classroom.

I was determined to solve its opening mechanism and discover what laid behind, but it seemed impossible without knowing the correct combination.

Lacking the knowledge of the spell that Ominis had used, I spent small eternities listening in on the mechanics behind the clock-faces while trying to figure them out the muggle way: hands-on.

It was only in the late evening when I would find the time to pull out my notes and try out new combinations, while simultaneously listening for approaching footsteps.

That is, if I there was time to be found, since I spent the better part of most evenings repairing the training dummies of Crossed Wands.

Sebastian had taken up the habit of showing up to the duelling club's meetings again, only to utterly destroy its equipment every time, frustrated by his fruitless search for Clementine. Understandably, no-one wanted to duel him in the state he was in.

Which was, in every way, disastrous. The bags under his bloodshot eyes contrasted starkly with his pale, freckled skin, and his usually neatly swept hair was reduced to a dishevelled mob, its ends sticking up in odd angles.

I once heard Leander whisper, that he hadn't been in class for days. Sometimes, when there were no more dummies left to destroy, Sebastian ventured out again. If to search for Clover once more or to find more targets to obliterate, I didn't know.

I always stuck around those meetings until the very end, along with Sebastian's friend and his sister. The three of them never bothered with acknowledging my presence, but it was a sure-fire way to keep my bullies and any remaining hard feelings from the Quidditch match away from me.

Plus, I got to watch his technique (or at least that's what I made myself believe… goodness, those forearms…). Once the Slytherin trio left, Ominis and Anne clearly not wanting to leave Sebastian to his own devices, it was always me who cleaned up the mess after him.

I once caught Anne shooting me a grateful look over her shoulder before she disappeared out into the courtyard with the boys. It was enough. And whenever Lucan would remark that Sebastian at least cleaned up after himself, I merely pressed my lips together.

…

Anne would express said gratitude a few weeks later when she and Ominis would catch me napping in the Undercroft after solving the puzzle of its door. Many more things would be said that afternoon, and I would emerge from the hallowed Hall with two new Slytherin friends.

…

I thought that the Sebastian of the previous week had been the worst version I was ever privy to. Yet nothing could have prepared me for the absolute wreck of a sixteen-year-old, that shuffled past me as I was making my way to Quidditch practice the following Monday morning.

I would have flushed and looked away again, if not for the sheer emptiness in his, normally so vibrant, now dull, brown eyes. It chilled me to the bone and had my stomach drop harder than ever before.

The anxiety I had felt when I had seen him stare at Clementine for the first time was nothing compared to this. Happening upon them snogging in the hallway to Ravenclaw tower? Completely irrelevant now.

Because I had never been afraid for Sebastian. And the feeling shook me so much that I aborted my trek to the Quidditch field and followed him, back into the castle. If Sebastian noticed me scrambling after him, he either didn't show it or he didn't even care. The few students that he walked past simply stepped aside, their eyes wide and curious.

“Going somewhere, Spare?”

Shit.

I knew I wouldn't be able to avoid them forever, but this was, undoubtedly, the worst timing. Bardsley, along with Jenkins, and two other year mates who always seemed to have it out for me, blocked the path and subsequently my pursuit.

There was no time. The fear in my gut grew along with the distance Sebastian was gaining on me with every step he took. My wand was in my hand before I knew it.

“Petrificus Totalus!”

Louis and Hector stiffly toppled over backwards, the full-body-bind curse a strong one due to my heightened emotions. The rest backed away and ran, yapping something along the lines of “She's crazy! Professor, Professor!”

I would so get detention for this. They would absolutely snitch on me for that. I could probably kiss my hard-earned position on the Quidditch team goodbye, my membership at Crossed Wands, too, probably.

Still hot wasting a single thought on any of that, however, I pushed on, running to catch up with Sebastian, sprinting across the dewy grass of the indoor courtyard after seeing him disappear into the Dark-Arts-Tower. There, I temporarily lost him, the maze of staircases and useless relics making it impossible to determine where he had gone.

All I had left was a hunch.

My black, and yellow quidditch cloak billowed behind me, as I all but flew up the stairs, in the rough direction of the Defence-Against-the-Dark-Arts-classroom.

My guess proved correct when I spotted him walking straight past the staircase leading up to Hecat's classroom, his gait hunched over, but determined. And this time, the door to the Undercroft didn't shut into my face after he had entered, because I wasn't letting it.

“Arresto Momentum!”

Sorely out of breath by then, I dove into the frame of the large grandfather clock while my charm kept its door open. And not a moment too soon, because it slammed shut right behind me when the spell wore off, the sound echoing loudly down the dark set of stairs, which were only illuminated by a few spare, blue, torches.

With ringing ears, I scrambled to my feet, rubbing my now raw knees, before huffing a breath and swallowing.

Step after step, I crept down the stairs. I had no idea where they would lead me, and I hoped that I hadn't landed myself somewhere I couldn't get out of. Somewhere ahead, I could hear the echo of Sebastian's boots scuffling heavily down the steps, and with another huff, I willed my shaky legs to carry me towards the sound.

I almost stumbled upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, finding myself in front of a barred gate, which rose up as soon as I stepped closer to peer through it.

I held my breath.

So this is the Undercroft…

Tall pillars, a high ceiling with the odd, dim candelabra here and there, stone walls, stone floor, all dark grey and old, the smell of petrichor, mildew and soot hitting my nose.

That was all I perceived before the sound of Sebastian slumping onto the floor at the far end with his back against the wall reminded me why I had ended up down here in the first place.

When I slowly approached him, he didn't even look up, which simultaneously made me nervous and irritated.

 Yes, yes, you don't even care that I exist. You never did, and you never will, I'm aware, thank you.

My irritation waned entirely when he eventually lifted not his head, but his wand, stopping me dead in my tracks.

“… what are you doing?” I croaked out.

No reaction. It was like he wasn't even hearing me. Dread surged in me all the same. I pulled my wand out, adapting the stance Lucan had drilled into me in the last few weeks, readying myself. Then, to my complete and utter bewilderment, he pointed it at his temple.

“Avada…” A low whisper, brittle, the syllables slow, but meticulous.

Cold fear. A terrible, weightless feeling in my stomach. Flashes of Sebastian's laughter, his smile, the sound of his voice, his mischievously gleaming, chocolate eyes, the boy I used to look up to, that I used to love, that I… still loved.

Because he had once been kind to a scared Hufflepuff first year.

“… Keda…”

There was no time to think. The only spell that came to mind was the one that Lucan had taught me last, and I cast it with the same desperation as if it was my own life on the line.

Because the alternative wasn't an option.

“Expelliarmus!!!”

[felicejules]

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[felicejules]

I'm not her.

Chapter 5

Link to Chapter 4

Featured Song

My concussion had healed, thanks to Nurse Blainey's exceptional skill, but I didn't return to the Hufflepuff common room, naturally, after being discharged from the hospital wing.

I was certain that they were blaming the loss against Slytherin entirely on me, because I was doing the very same. It had been me who hadn't caught the snitch fast enough, hadn't it? It didn't matter that my captain had tried to ensure me otherwise the day before, telling me that catching the snitch under those circumstances was an exceptional feat.

Knowing my housemates, the loss would still be pinned solely on me. Perhaps also on Sallow, but I was a much easier target. My bullies would have several field days in a row, guaranteed.

Cold bones, yeah, that's my love. She hides away, like a ghost.

With a long, low, soundless sigh, I was wandering the corridors, a disillusionment charm and a silencing charm cast over my lanky frame, not knowing where to go. I stuck to the shadows so that no one would see even a flicker of my movements.

My idle musings about investing time in learning how to brew invisibility potions were promptly interrupted, when a frantic Ominis Gaunt and an even more frantic Anne Sallow rushed past me in a hurry.

“… haven't seen him since the game, Ominis! And with the abduction, who knows what kind of trouble he's getting into to get her back?”

Cold sheets, where's my love? I'm searching high, I'm searching low in the night.

My heart all but stuttered in my chest, and before I could think better of it, I followed them, my charms keeping me both hidden and soundless. With the way Anne's voice pitched, something awful must have happened.

“I'm well aware of how Sebastian gets when it comes to Clementine, Anne. But contrary to her, he can handle himself out there.”

Anne huffed and sniffled.

“As dear as Clementine is to me, as grateful as I am that she managed to lift the curse, she will get an earful from me when she's back.”

I pressed my lips together, stifling a chuckle, before feeling inherently bad for that reaction. Apparently, Clover was in trouble again, and Sebastian was looking for her. Same old. I couldn't help but notice how my stomach dropped, jealousy rearing its ugly head, no matter how unwelcome the feeling was at that moment.

There had been goblin attacks and attempted kidnappings for the better part of the school year. It had resulted in a small band of Aurors being stationed at Hogwarts, which obviously hadn't helped at all.

A part of me wondered if it was safe to return to the common room after all. With the abduction, who would still care about yesterday's Quidditch match? I sighed again, soundlessly. 

Way to steal my thunder, four-leaf Clover. 

I shook my head again, feeling like the worst person on earth. 

Goodness, when did I become so cynical and bitter?

Does she know that we bleed the same? Don't wanna cry, but I break that way.

“And I shall tell Sebastian to cease coddling her during duelling practice.” Ominis mused, unaware of my silent footsteps following close behind.

The duo turned a corner, finding themselves and their Hufflepuff shadow in the Dark Arts tower of Hogwarts castle.

“Let's check in the Undercroft one more time. If Sebastian isn't there, then he's most likely left the castle in search of her. And if he doesn't come back until tomorrow morning, we venture out to find him.”

“I'd rather we venture out right after and try to find him off the grounds.”

Ominis pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Fine.” He relented. “But we return to the castle in time for curfew. We won't be of any help to Sebastian, if we land ourselves in detention.”

Anne seemed to contemplate a rebuttal, but eventually decided against it.

“Fine. You have a point.”

Did she run away? Did she run away? I don't know… If she ran away, if she ran away, come back home.

I kept tailing them, against my better judgement. The pain in my heart already felt raw again, my chest constricting tightly. I should have just walked away and minded my own business, instead of cowardly sneaking behind and eavesdropping on the two of them so pathetically.

Now that I had heard this much, I wanted to know more. In for a sickle, in for a galleon, and all that. I didn't give a rat's arse about Clementine, but I couldn't help but worry about my former (Yes, former. He bashed my head in with a bludger, for Merlin's sake!) crush. Yet It seemed that I still couldn't help myself when it came to anything Sebastian, and I hated myself for it.

Just come home…

Following Anne and Ominis along elaborate railings, past relics and portraits and down a few stairs, I concentrated on non-verbally keeping the silencing charm and the disillusionment charm up, so that I wouldn't give my presence away.

When we passed the Defence-Against-the-Dark-Arts-classroom, I gave the all-seeing eyes that Professor Hecat kept propped up in front of its door a nervous side-glance. One of the devices blinked at me, as if winking. Taken aback, I rushed on to keep up with the unsuspecting Slytherins.

“They will find her, though… right?” Anne asked with a subdued voice.

“I'm sure it will be alright, Anne.” Ominis' voice wavered only slightly. “It always ended well before, did it not?”

I got a fear, oh, in my blood. She was carried up into the clouds, high above.

To my surprise, upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, they turned another corner. I furrowed my brows as I caught up with them. As far as I knew, nothing could be found back there, certainly no… 

What did Ominis say earlier? 'Undercroft'?

They came to a stop in front of a large, strange-looking grandfather clock. If one could even call it that. The elaborate construct had a massive, dark, wooden frame and no visible pendulum, yet five differently sized clock-faces on its front, each with a different time, date and purpose, it seemed. A sun was depicted above the five dials.

Ominis pulled out his wand and waved it, causing four of the five sets of hands to spin seemingly at random, until they all struck midnight at the same time. A chime emitted, and the front swung open, revealing another narrow set of stairs that led into the dark.

“After you.” Ominis said haughtily, ever the gentleman. Anne did not need to be told twice, ducking into the secret passageway quickly, with her friend following close behind. Before I could step in after them, the door closed rapidly in my face.

I stood there for a few seconds, dumbfounded but highly intrigued. How did the mechanism work? What spell had Ominis used? Where did those stairs lead?

I didn't move from that spot until the clicking sound of several turning gears signalled the duos return, shaking me out of that stupor.

Did you run away? Did you run away? I don't need to know… If you ran away, if you ran away, come back home

By the time the two Slytherins re-emerged from the so-called 'Undercroft' my long legs had carried me down the nearest set of stairs. My spells were wearing off, and I only hoped that I had gained enough distance from Ominis' keen ears.

Just come home…

…

Six weeks later, the school year would come to a close. Sebastian would not be present to attend his OWL exams, which would force him to repeat his fifth year.

Ominis and Anne, however, would attend them, before deciding to spend a bit of alone time in their designated hide-out, only to almost jump out of their skins. Spread out across a pile of transfigured pillows, a napping Hufflepuff would be quietly snoring away behind a few barrels. 

Befitting the house she had almost been sorted into instead, she would have spent the whole prior night awake before finally figuring out the mechanism behind the secret door to the Undercroft, painstakingly redialling each clock by hand.

Anne would burst out into laughter for the first time in weeks upon hearing this, and Ominis would let out a long, weary sigh that wouldn't be directed at a Sallow, for once.

Link to chapter 6

[felicejules]

[felicejules]

There comes a time when fandom becomes less of an escape from anxiety to being the source of anxiety. Sometimes I need to remind myself what’s important to focus on, and I made this chart to help me with that. 

(Posting this at the request of a few people. The design/concept was inspired by an instagram post about covid-19 located here). 

[felicejules]

I'm not her.

Chapter 4

Link to chapter 3

Tw: Implied bullying, implied character death, blood

I tightened the straps on my armour one more time, each knot a double. My nerves were killing me. Today, I would play quidditch for the first time. No, not in training, but as the seeker of Hufflepuff house. Or, more rather, their spare.

I exhaled shakily. Spare. That's what some of the team called me. One of them was an active chaser, the other one, however, was actually a spare beater himself: Louis Bardsley, a fellow third year. And no one called him 'Spare', that's for sure, but, what else was new?

I flinched when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Alright, Jules?"

The captain. My rigid stance deflated immediately. She was the only one who seemed to have my back in all of this, and had, true to her Quidditch position, 'kept' me safe from worse treatment thus far. No one dared question her decision to let me on the team, when she was around.

But it didn't mean that it didn't continue once her back was turned, even I knew that she had better things to do than babysit her team all the time.

"Alright." I said, the word almost getting stuck in my throat.

"So." She crossed her arms, standing next to me in the far corner girls' changing tent. It's where I always slunk off to to change, ever wary of pranks and peepers. Today was no different. Except that everything was. "First game. Unannounced, too." 

"Yeah." I tightened the last knot on my gloves. Maybe I was an idiot for using full protective gear, especially as a seeker, but I much preferred safety over agility, for now at least.

"Scared?"

"A little..."

"That's fair." She said quietly. "I felt the same before my first game."

I glanced up at her through my goggles while I adjusted them for the umpteenth time. They didn't fit well with the leather helmet I was already wearing but, once more, safety came first.

"What happened?"

She smirked. "Took a bludger to the head two minutes in."

I froze, staring up at her in fear. "And then?"

"I don't really remember. But, apparently, I didn't let a single quaffle get past me after that. I collapsed when the game ended. We won."

I swallowed. As the seeker, I would fly out there with a figurative target on my back. Part of me hoped that the opponent would overlook and underestimate me, since I was just the spare, and hence direct their attention elsewhere.

And since we were house Hufflepuff to boot, being underestimated was, sadly, but sometimes also advantageously, something that we could always count on.

Our opponent today? Slytherin.

And who happened to be a beater on the opposite team?

Of bloody course: Sebastian.

Just my luck. My stomach lurched, a mixture of revulsion and giddy excitement making me feel sick again.

"You know how I managed to pull that off?"

I was pulled from my brooding thoughts by my stoic team captain. I shook my head.

"Because I wore full gear, just like you." She patted my helmet and smirked. "We're tougher and smarter than we look, we Hufflepuffs. And Slytherin is in dear need of a reminder of that."

I chuckled a little. The seventh year's smiled widened, before she held out her fist to me. I bumped it with my own.

…

My thick, mousy twin braids fluttered about behind me as I flew across the pitch for the umpteenth time. No sign of the snitch, no sign that it had been spotted by the other seeker either.

I had been right with my assumption that no one would pay much attention to me, neither my own teammates nor any of our opponents.

Especially not a certain Slytherin beater, who kept hovering suspiciously close to a particular area of the stands. In that area, a mop of pale blonde hair could be spotted. And I would bet my position on the team that it wasn't Ominis'.

Ugh…

I tried not to think of it. It had been weeks since that incident, weeks, in which a lot had happened.

Lucan had introduced me to Crossed Wands. It took him one scarily withering look to silence Hector on the matter, while Sebastian hadn't even been present in the first place, both to my disappointment and immense relief.

Duels were being held on a weekly basis, while Lucan drilled me to the point of almost keeling over, making good use of the dummies I had left intact enough to repair that one time. He had ensured that they remain so by casting shield charms around them every time I trained.

Between that, Quidditch practice, classes and purposely avoiding both the dungeons and Ravenclaw tower where I could, I was really out of breath at the end of most days.

I also hadn't touched my diary in weeks. And why would I? It was full of gushes and rants about Sebastian. That picture of him that served as its bookmark also kept me from opening it, currently. I didn't want to see his face and fall for it all over again.

So, instead of purposely letting my paths cross Sebastian's like I used to, I now ran in the opposite direction every time I so much as caught an echo of his voice or a whiff of his cologne. The latter of which he was certainly much more heavy-handed with recently, that was for sure.

The same went for the new fifth year, Clementine Clover.

The amount of detours I had started taking in that castle because of this was, perhaps, exaggerated, but it felt more than necessary. I neither had the capacity to see those two again nor could I afford to lose what little focus I had managed to regain in the last few weeks.

Things were going… somewhat well, for once, even though my ever-loyal band of bullies' behavior had been getting nastier, adding to the ever-increasing miles of castle halls left in the wake of my avoidance.

I had also found something akin to a friend in Lucan. And while he, too, couldn't ward off our idiot yearmates all the time, his mere presence, or that of any other Club member, was often enough to deter them.

No one wanted to get on the bad side of Crossed Wands, after all. Natty had once sent them scurrying with a single glare, and it had made my day.

Then came today.

My team captain had unceremoniously thrown me out of bed at 8 o'clock sharp with the simple instruction to get my gear and my broom and follow her. I had thought that someone merely needed spare (ha…) equipment, but no.

It turned out that our seeker from sixth year, the idiot, had managed to get himself into a rather unfortunate entanglement with a devil's snare in the Hidden Herbology Corridor because he was trying to impress a girl.

I could only shake my head, when my fuming captain regaled that story to me, with not even a single ounce of compassion to spare for him, despite the fact that he was currently at Saint Mungo's hospital.

It was one thing to occasionally incapacitate oneself at Hogwarts, it happened to the best of us, really. I couldn't even blame him for wanting to get attention from Samantha Dale, and I had to admit, searching for a rare plant to gift to her in that dark corridor beneath the greenhouse was pretty brave.

But to do it the night before the game against Slytherin? Seriously? No wonder everyone thought us a bunch of well-meaning idiots.

Speaking of…

"SPARE, WATCH OUT!!"

Not even wasting time, I let myself hang off the side of my broom star-fish-style, just as I had practised. And not a moment too soon, because that's when 35 kilograms of compressed, pure iron whirred past me with an angry noise.

I manoeuvred my broom upwards after that, before using the momentum to pull myself back up. That had been too close for comfort. And to add insult to injury, it was Sebastian, who had distracted me from what was actually important. Again.

Just then, a sickening crack could be heard from the other side of the field, near the Hufflepuff goalposts. I whirled around on my broom, fast enough to spot my team captain falling off of hers, unconscious. Sebastian seemed to have decided that the game was worth his attention after all, and his bludger had struck true.

Her fall was slowed by Professor Garlick's timely 'Arresto Momentum', who was already hurrying across the field on foot with Madam Blainey, Hogwart's school nurse, in tow. It looked bad. Blood began to seep from her head into the sand below the goalposts as soon as our keeper was gently lowered to the ground. Brutal as Quidditch undoubtedly was, the game went on up above.

Slytherin took over the quaffle soon after. With one player short, her being our captain making it even worse, I watched helplessly as Imelda Reyes scored goal after goal, with an almost bored expression on her face.

We were falling behind drastically. Slytherin was leading by 140 points.

This wasn't a game any longer. It was slaughter. Until…

…zzZZIIiinngg…

It glinted in the sunlight. Right before my eyes.

I never flew so fast in my life. Everything except the golden little ball and its fairy-like wings fell out of focus. It kept changing directions, the little bugger. Up, down, right, left… I was almost there. The whole stadium was in uproar, but I didn't even hear it.

I willed my broom to fly just a tad faster. Blast those rickety school brooms, bloody Clean-Sweeps…

I heard a fluttering behind me, and assumed that it was the Slytherin seeker, hot on my bristles.

No!

I had to try. I could turn the whole game around, give them what for!

Clutching my broom tightly with one gloved hand, I stretched the other out.

So close, so close… 

My fingers brushed against the cool metal of the small ball.

Almost… there…

Then: "SALLOW!"

Imelda, probably.

A resounding smack, the sound of a beater's bat's solid wood hitting 35 kilograms of pure metal. A glimpse past the snitch at a pair of intense brown eyes.

I couldn't tell if the reason for the pure annoyance in them was me or the owner of those eyes realising that he, too, had allowed himself to get distracted for a moment too long.

…

And that was all I could recall, when I woke up in the hospital wing. My eyes felt like someone had glued them shut, and the pain in my head was unlike anything I had ever felt before.

There were unintelligible murmurs all around me, which only served to intensify the sheer headache I was subjected to. I opened my mouth to tell them to shut up, only managing a weak groan, but it did the job anyway.

"Alright, you lot. Out."

My captain. She was alright? What had happened? I heard mild grumbles, shuffling, and the rustling of five sets of black-and-yellow quidditch robes move past me. That's when I finally remembered how to use my eyelids.

"Uuhhnn..."

Light. Yikes. I closed my eyes again immediately.

"Ow..."

"Yeah..." I heard my captain chuckle quietly next to me. "Sallow's bludgers certainly hit differently. I should know."

I sighed. Tears leaked from my closed eyes.

"B... Bastard..."

A sob tore through me. I almost had the snitch. I had almost had it!

My captain sat quietly next to me, waiting patiently for me to calm down. And I must have mumbled that last thought out loud because the next thing she said was:

"You did catch that snitch."

My breath got stuck in my throat, along with the next sob, and I coughed and spluttered. My captain sighed.

"But we didn't win. Imelda scored the winning goal a moment too soon. We lost, 180 to 190."

...

That day had been Clementine Clover's last day at Hogwarts, before the leader of the goblin rebellion, Ranrok, abducted her the next morning, right before Sebastian's horrified eyes. He would tell me this only six months later while gut-wrenchingly dissolving in tears he wouldn't have been able to properly shed until then.

I would hold him and tell him that it wasn't his fault, time and time again for months to come, until he would believe me. Link to chapter 5

[felicejules]

I'm not her.

Chapter 3

Link to Chapter 2

Featured Song (with slightly changed lyrics)

Half an hour later, I had decimated half of the training dummies in the clock tower hall. I had no idea why Crossed Wands had left them standing around there, but at that moment I honestly couldn’t care less. I had dropped my robe due to the sweat I was breaking and was currently rolling up my sleeves to get ready to pulverize the other half. Each of them seemed to bear Clover’s face.

All that work, and what did it get me?

“Reducto!” My magic, raw and amplified by my emotions, reduced a dummy to a pile of dust.

Why did I do it?

“Depulso!” I missed the next mannequin, hitting a suit of armour instead. It was blasted apart, a huge dent in its breastplate.

Scrapbooks full of me in the background… Give 'em love, and what does it get ya?

“DEPULSO!” My aim was true this time, my spell sending the contraption into the wall, where it toppled onto the pile of deformed metal.

What does it get you?

At some point I didn’t even need the incantations any longer, my rage was enough to funnel all that destructive magic through my willow wand. Its handle almost became too hot to touch, the tip glowing as my targets were burned, levitated, flipped upside down, frozen…

All your life, and what does it get you? Thanks a lot and out with the garbage! They take bows and you're batting zero…

“OY!!! Are you out of your bloody mind?!”

A high-pitched voice blared from the entrance, stopping me from blasting the very last of the dummies to pieces.

My wand still held up high, I turned towards the quickly advancing footsteps, and my shocked gaze landed on the face of a fellow third-year Gryffindor: Lucan Brattleby. He was stomping towards me, and he looked furious.

“I don’t know WHAT has your bloomers in a twist, and I don’t CARE! It took me AGES to acquire those dummies for Crossed Wands without Hecat noticing! You had no right to…”

Upon recognising my tear-streaked face, he blinked, his facial expression changing from angry to bewildered to completely flabbergasted within seconds at the sight of his meek, mousy, lanky Hufflepuff year mate, surrounded by a picture of utter destruction and chaos.

“Jules?!”

I was still too torn between my stupor, my heartache, my rage, and my anxiety to react.

“You did this?”

I tried to shake myself out of it, to say something, but I only managed a few stuttered syllables.

“I… Lucan… I’m sorry, I… I just…”

“Amazing!” He interrupted me, suddenly grinning from ear to ear, to my utter surprise. “I had no idea you had it in you!”

He came to stand by my side, his eyes almost comically large as he surveyed the damage I had wrought on the equipment of his precious club.

“What…? But… I…”

“It’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it, eh?” He said, playfully jabbed me with his elbow, making me flinch.

“That right there is a perfectly executed ‘Reducto’!” He gushed then, pointing at the tiny pile of dust I had reduced one of the massive, wooden constructs to.

“And how in Merlin’s name did you manage that?!” He ran over to another training dummy I had somehow managed to freeze high up against the wall in a solid block of ice after burning it to crisp mid-air.

“I don’t know!” I blurted out. The disgusting image of Sebastian snogging Clementine flashed before my eyes again, and I winced audibly. “I was… upset… I…”

Lucan snorted a laugh. “Upset she says…” He pondered for a moment before turning back to me with a mischievous grin.

“How about this: you and I clean this mess up and salvage what we can of my equipment. If we work together, we’ll be done before curfew, and I promise I won’t be mad about it. Scourgify.”

With a swish of his wand, dust, scorch marks, splinters, and puddles of melted ice vanished from the area I had wrought havoc upon, leaving only the remnants of the destroyed dummies. The one I had frozen against the wall fell to the floor, the impact reducing it to scorched splinters with an embarrassingly loud, reverberating noise.

It was enough to finally spur me into action, and I started to cast cleaning and repairing charms alongside my fellow Gryffindor third-year on whatever was left. In the end, Lucan and I managed to put six out of originally ten dummies back together again. As I was helping him store them safely in a barred area at the back of the clock tower hall, he said:

“You know, I've been thinking…”

Naturally, I expected the worst. “Uh oh…”

“Let me finish, you menace!”

I flinched again and pressed my lips together. Lucan only shook his head.

“Ye of little faith. So, I was thinking…” He paused, for a dramatical effect, no doubt. “… of inviting you to Crossed Wands.”

If my jaw hadn’t been attached to my head, it would have probably dropped to the floor.

“BUT…” He interrupted me before I could even so much as make a sound. “You need more training, first. Your spell work is great, but your aim is poor and the stance I walked in on definitely needs improvement as well. I can’t throw you into the ring like this, you’ll be decimated.”

“But… Lucan…”

“I'll help you. I trained with Hector, too, and if that dimwit can hold his own, it'll be a piece of cake for you, once I'm through with you. You've already got the aptitude.”

My heart was pounding in my chest. Was he serious?

“Lucan, Hector hates me. And the rest of the Club doesn't even know I exist…” I trail off, fighting off my tears once more, thinking of one member specifically, whose thoughts never so much as strayed my way.

“So?” Lucan's nonchalance couldn't have been more clear. “Crossed Wands is my Duelling Club. I founded it last year, I make the rules and what I say, goes.”

He gave the last dummy a hearty push, before locking the barred area up with a surprisingly strong 'Colloportus'.

“It's also invitation only, and the time and place for the next meet-up are always on a need-to-know-basis.” Lucan continued, his tone as cheery as if he was talking about the weather. “That means, if you show up with me vouching for you, you're one of us, end of story. I've seen what you can do. You're a wildcard, exactly what we need.”

My mind was running a mile a minute. Was this worth the risk? Lucan's offer did seem genuine, and hadn't I been aiming for this?

I had a dream, I dreamed it for you, Love.

Once more was I reminded for whom I had originally learned all of those spells for. It felt ridiculous now, wanting to impress Sebastian, painful even.

It wasn't for me, Love.

Would I even be able to hold my own in front of, let alone stomach, Sebastian presence after what I had involuntarily become a witness of earlier? I shuddered lightly at the thought of him showing up after all and bringing Clementine along. Ugh. I could still hear those sloppy noises they had made… and the laughter that had followed later.

“So… will Sebastian… be there, too?” I stammered, not quite sure how to express my discomfort.

Lucan made a grimace at that. “Not bloody likely. Hasn’t shown up in months, and I'm rather cross with him for that.”

I perked up at that. “How come?”

“Busy with classes, Quidditch and following Clover around like a lovesick puppy, I'd wager.”

My stomach lurched uncomfortably at that, and it must have shown in my face, because Lucan gave me a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah, I don’t like her, either. I've heard that she's constantly throwing herself into precarious situations that Sebastian keeps getting her out of. Pretty daft for a Ravenclaw, if you ask me.”

… and if it wasn't for me, then where does that leave all I could be?

I could help neither the snorted laugh that escaped me, nor the tears that started to stream down my cheeks. Lucan only watched on, still smiling at me, his mirthful eyes filled with understanding.

Well, someone tell me, when is it my turn? Don't I get a dream for myself? Starting now, it's gonna be my turn! Gangway, world, get off of my runway!

“You’ll show them.”

Starting now, I bat a thousand!

He said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “And I will help you.” 

This time, boys, I'm taking the bows, and…

“They won't know what hit'em.”

…

Many months later, upon getting back into Lucan's good graces and re-entering Crossed Wands, Sebastian indeed wouldn't have the foggiest about what had hit him. Disarmed and with his backside frozen to the floor, he would find himself being stared down at by a willowy, smirking Hufflepuff, whose eyes were bluer and brighter than Clementine's had ever been.

Link to chapter 4

[felicejules]

I'm not her.

Chapter Two

Link to chapter one

TW: Bullying (mentioned), one-sided feelings, heartbreak, jealousy, kissing and making out

Hogwarts’ sheer enormity surely had its advantages. There were more than enough places to hide when you, once more, had enough of your year-mates’ bullying tactics. It was only Tuesday evening, for Walburga’s sake, and it already felt like the longest bloody week of the year. Then again, that’s what every week felt like, really.

I had long since left my bullies searching for me in an entirely different wing of the castle than the one, I currently found myself in. The problem was that they would now linger around the entrance to the Hufflepuff Common Room to try to corner me there, which meant that I would have to kill time elsewhere until it was almost curfew.

I was aimlessly walking down the corridor, simply letting my feet carry me wherever they would, stopping here and there to see if some oddity or another would reveal another secret passageway. Those always came in handy, after all. Since it was still winter, the hallways of Hogwarts were already dark and deserted. Or so I thought.

“… just like that…”

I froze mid-step. That voice. I would recognise it anywhere at this point. But what was Sebastian doing here at this hour, this close to Ravenclaw tower? The answer to that question sounded out soft, feminine, squeaky whimpers next, and my stomach dropped, heavy with disgust and dread.

With wide eyes and my tentative, silent steps, I crept around the corner, hoping with every fibre of my being that it wasn't what my ears were already making me believe it to be. And what I saw then made everything infinitely worse.

Sebastian, my crush for months and months, the saviour of my first year, someone I had been trying to come out of my shell for, trying to become a girl he would at least notice, stood there, pressing Clementine Clover, the insufferably perfect new fifth-year, up against the wall.

Quiet, wet, sloppy noises reverberated eerily in the hallway, combined with the pathetic squeals that escaped the tiny, blonde, voluptuous Ravenclaw and the occasional, deep groan Sebastian made in response.

It took neither a genius nor the idle Floo flame next to them illuminating the whole repulsive scene in a sickly, green colour to deduce what they were doing: Snogging each other’s faces off, mouths merged, saliva dribbling down the corner of Clover’s mouth.

I pressed a hand to my mouth, rooted to the spot, to prevent making a sound, feeling sick and strangely weightless, as if the floor had opened up right beneath my feet. And there would be nothing to catch me.

It was torture, sickening, head-ache-inducing agony, and it felt like the worst kind of betrayal, even though I knew that I had no claim to Sebastian whatsoever. He could snog whoever he damn well pleased, and who wouldn’t want to do that with the picture-perfect, pretty, prudish, pampered, persistently proper and polite, new Ravenclaw?

That reasoning still failed to stop the bile rising to the back of my throat as my broken heart continued to shatter. Months of pining… wasted. So much effort put into trying to work up the courage to just walk up to Sebastian and speak to him at some point in the future.

Sneaking into the restricted section, scared out of my wits, just to find out what it was that he found so damn interesting about that creepy place. Reading up on and secretly practising duelling spells in hopes of getting a spot on Crossed Wands. Trying out for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team and actually getting a spot as their spare seeker.

All of that, stepping out of numerous comfort zones, putting myself out there, giving my bullies more opportunities to attack and ridicule me, just so that I would have a chance to impress him. And for what?

“Off on another adventure, are we?”

The grating voice of Ignatia Wildsmith’s bust shook me from my stupor and blessedly caused Sebastian and Clementine to jerk apart.

“What are you up to now?”

I never thought I’d be grateful to that annoying slab of stone, but then again, I had also, until just now, deluded myself that I would eventually have a chance with Sebastian Sallow, if only I worked hard enough on myself.

Both fifth-years started to laugh then, and that finally motivated me to make myself scarce. I turned on my heel and fled, finally allowing the fat globs of tears to run down my cheeks. Their laughter echoed down the corridor, and I was running. Running, running, running, trying to escape the feeling, trying to unsee what I had seen, my neatly braided pigtails whipping about behind me.

…

Sebastian wouldn't know that I had borne witness to that scene until much, much later.

Link to Chapter 3

[felicejules]

Okay, you know what? After reading this post, I jokingly said we should all just make a pact to reblog it five times a day forever. So I'm gonna do this louder for the people in the back:

AO3 WAS CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS

AO3 IS RUN BY FANS (VOLUNTEERS, NO LESS)

AO3 IS PART OF THE NON-PROFIT, ORGANIZATION FOR TRANSFORMATIVE WORKS

AO3 IS NOT OWNED BY ANY COMPANIES AND DOES NOT EARN REVENUE

AO3 OPERATES ON DONATIONS FROM FANS

again:

AO3 WAS CREATED BY FANS, FOR FANS

[felicejules]

I'm not her.

Chapter One

TW: Bullying (mentioned), slight panic attack, one-sided feelings

There… there he was again: Sebastian Sallow.

I stood still in the bustling hallway, done with classes for the day and on my way back to the Hufflepuff common room. People bumped into me left and right, but I didn’t care. I had heard his infectious laughter before I saw him strutting down the hallway, flanked by his best friend and the new girl.

My heart skipped a beat before picking back up again at an alarming pace. Heat crept up my face and my stomach did a flip. How could it not? Ever since he once helped me find my way to class during my first year, I had been unable to forget how kindly his dark eyes had gazed down on me. How his smile had shown a row of perfectly straight teeth, how warm his hand had felt at the small of my back as he guided my trembling, twelve-year-old self out of the dungeons and back to my common-room.

Now, two years later, I was well into my third year at Hogwarts, and I kept looking out for him in the hallways. But he never seemed to recognize me any longer. Why would he? I was just some Hufflepuff. Unremarkable. Average. Invisible. And he was anything but: A Slytherin through and through, confident, handsome, a genius and a troublemaker. The most talented duellist of Hogwarts, at least in my opinion, no matter what that rumour about him having been bested by that new fifth-year said.

Another shove brought me back to the present, this one almost causing me to drop my books. Suddenly, I felt as if I was taking far too much space. As if I didn’t belong. Not at Hogwarts, not in my own house, not at home, nowhere. I moved out of the way, pressing myself against the wall, hugging my books to my chest. My lungs felt like they were folding in on themselves. I pushed a long strand of my hair that had escaped my neatly braided pigtails behind my ear and just tried to breathe normally again.

Swallowing the lump in my throat as I was practised in at this point, I raised my head again to check if anyone had seen me like this. I couldn’t afford that; I was being bullied enough by my housemates as it was. Some Hufflepuffs they were. Then again, it seemed like the rotten eggs of just about every house in my year had it out for me, while the rest just watched, not wanting to get involved. Cowards, the lot of them, even the oh-so-chivalrous Gryffindors always looked the other way.

I was pulled from my rumination just then when Sebastian and his peers passed me by. His head turned to my direction, and I froze again, even if it was for a different reason entirely. I noticed that his eyes weren’t on me. No, he was staring at the new fifth year. The beautiful, gorgeous and, if the rumours were true, selfless new Ravenclaw. She, who could effortlessly pass off as someone of part-Veela heritage, what with how pretty she was. What was her name again? Caroline? Clementine? I think it was the latter.

But that didn’t matter right now. What mattered more to my fourteen-year-old, pining self was that Sebastian was looking at her the way I fervently wished he would look at me. The smile that had started to form in my face at seeing him faded from my face, my mood dropping all the way down to the dungeons he had once been so kind to lead me out of. My throat tightened again. It was time to get to safety before my emotions could get the better of me, so I darted out of the nook, my lanky limps carrying me past the trio and out of the corridor swiftly.

…

I never noticed the pair of curious, almond-shaped, brown eyes that followed my retreating form, set beneath thick brows, which were furrowed in slight confusion before Clementine’s bell-like, tingling laughter drew their gaze back.

…

I felt numb when I walked back to the Hufflepuff common room after that, not feeling like braving the whole bulk of Hogwarts’ student body in the great Hall for dinner. I opted to snatch up a few bites to eat from the kitchen instead, before hiding out in the girls' dorm of my house again. With everyone gone, I could afford to take out my diary from its warded hiding place. I had taught myself that charm as early as first year, when it became clear that if I didn’t, someone would eventually steal it, just to have a laugh.

Brushing my hands over the worn leather, I reverently opened it. A picture fell out. My breath hitched, and I pressed my hand to my mouth yet again. It was a small, moving portrait of a slightly younger Sebastian, who obviously hadn’t been in the mood to have his picture taken at that moment. He was rolling his eyes and smiling exasperatedly before quickly sticking out his tongue. I smiled faintly at the little scene.

The picture was taken last year when an unofficial school newspaper had been making its rounds. It had contained the usual teenage nonsense, like who was the prettiest, the smartest, the best at quidditch, most likely to get expelled and whatnot. Yet there had also been a rather gushing article about the then newest champion of Crossed Wands, Hogwarts’ secret, unsanctioned duelling club. Well, calling it a secret was a stretch at best, if you asked me, but no one ever did anyway.

I, still quite love-struck as I had been, had secured a copy of said issue for myself, along with that precious picture, which I had cut out with a precise 'Diffindo' before charming it to become indestructible. Now, it served as a much-loved bookmark for my diary. I found it rather poetic, having Sebastian watch over my innermost thoughts and feelings in that way.

But then I remembered what I had seen today, and a new lump formed in my throat. While Sebastian had never explicitly shown interest in any girl, today had been somewhat telling. I started pouring my anxious feelings onto the pages of my diary, along with all my teenage angst and pining that came with it.

“How I wish he would look at me the way he looked at her today…”

Link to chapter two

[felicejules]

[felicejules]

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, MC. Will you shut up, and just accept the damned scarf? It's not my fault you keep dressing inappropriately for the weather."

"You could have mentioned beforehand that you would drag me out of the castle for this. But no, you had to go and be all cryptic in your letter."

"Owls can be intercepted."

"Maybe you should be intercepted, you menace."

"Only if you do it. <3"

"Shut up..."

https://picrew.me/ja/image_maker/357637

[felicejules]

Dreamer's Lament

I'm feeling a bit sentimental tonight,

I wrote another poem, I hope that's alright.

Finally, tiredly, I have returned

To those gentle dreams for which I have yearned

Where we meet again, my love, my light

In this beautiful, clear, stellar night

Nary a star could ever compare

to thy loving gaze and a smile so fair

In eyes as dark as the sky above

I find home, hearth, and infinite love

In an embrace so strong and so sure

I sigh contently, my mind demure.

'I miss you, my sun.' I quietly confer.

'But Darling, I promise, I'm always right here.'

'Sebastian, my love, we are worlds apart.'

'It matters not, you remain in my heart.'

Your lips on mine then feel so very real.

And again do I cave to my heart's appeal.

[felicejules]

Little Serenade of a Dreamer

I know you only exist in my dreams

Chocolate brown eyes and a smile that beams

Your fingertips rough, you tickle my skin

As you catch me off-guard and pull me in-

-to the best of shenanigans one could think of

With you, I'm in trouble and maybe in love

You are my comfort, safe haven, and friend

Even though you leave me at every night's end

When morning comes, I wake up alone

Yet still I smile, you are never truly gone

Then I believe it's your laughter I'm hearing

“Sebastian…” I whisper, my heart full and yearning.

The ghost of a touch, then a trick of the light

And I cannot wait to see you again tonight…