fortheloveof-sebastian

[fortheloveof-sebastian]

Find Sebastian: Part Two

Pairings: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader, Anne x Ominis

Summary: You've, somewhat hesitantly, agreed to join Anne and Ominis on their quest to find Sebastian. Not only is Ominis furious at you, but Anne refuses to talk to you. Add all of that up with a surprise from an unwanted visitor, and your journey commences with quite an interesting twist.

Warnings: (spoilers for Hogwarts Legacy) arguing, fighting with wands, minor violence, blood

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: Please make sure to read Part One first! There will be a third part, and I believe an alternate ending as well🤔

“Here. Catch.”

The blackberry arcs through the air. You catch it, and the splash of juices explode on your tongue as you pierce the bumpy skin of the fruit. Nothing tastes sweeter than the look of delight on Sebastian’s face, however, and when you kiss him — enthralled by him, by his company — his lips are smeared with the sticky purple juice.

“Your turn,” you say, grabbing a blackberry from the wicker basket.

Classes were dismissed early for the day on account of the nice weather, thought you suspected it had more to do with the faculty party the night before; none of the professors appeared to be in the mood for the usual antics of the students. Not that you minded. It resulted in a chance for you and Sebastian to leave school grounds and plan a picnic.

Currently, you lounge beneath the shade of a massive oak tree, the red and white checkered blanket you found soft under your touch. Sebastian lays on his side. He discarded his robes and vest quite some time ago, and now wore his white button-up with with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and first few buttons undone. The peek of the tanned, freckled skin drove you wild.

“Mm,” Sebastian says in reply to your challenge.

Instead of catching the blueberry in his mouth like you intended, he leans forward and closes the space between you. You held the blackberry aloft, and he purses his lips around your fingers to take it, his tongue darting out to swipe the residual juices.

The action sent molten lava straight to your core. Suddenly, you aren’t that hungry for blackberries anymore.

Sebastian grins at you. It’s infuriating, the way he knows the effect he has on you.

You wish desperately that you could compose yourself around him, but his presence — the mere thought of him — made you weak in the knees. It certainly wasn’t an attribute that you found necessarily compelling about yourself. It was frustrating on the best days, devastating on the worst one.

A dangerous game it was, someone knowing exactly how much of a hold they had on you.

You wake with your fingers touching your bottom lip, as if remembering the taste of the blackberries and the pressure of Sebastian’s lips on yours. Blankets rustle and fall to the side as you climb out of bed and pad across the floor.

The memory had been almost a year ago.

Hogwarts offered for you to stay over the summer. You had nowhere else to go — no family, and you had planned to stay with Professor Fig, but that had been unceremoniously halted by his unexpected death. You heart aches at the thought of your mentor. The only comfort you had was provided by the notion that he was hopefully reunited with his wife, who you never had the opportunity to meet.

You gaze in the mirror.

Your hair clouds messily around your head. Dark circles are punched beneath your eyes, and you’ve lost considerable weight. It haunts you, your dream, and the last lingering memory of how strongly Sebastian effects you.

He had been missing for a few weeks and you were already falling apart.

Discomforted, you turn away from the mirror.

No one greets you in the Slytherin common room like they would’ve during the school year, at least before the incident. Vaguely, you’re aware that Ominis lurks somewhere close. Hogwarts also extended an invitation for him to stay since it’s common knowledge that his family is less than amicable, and it’s proven to be extremely awful considering that he actively goes out of his way to avoid you.

It should be interesting to go on an indefinite trip with him and Anne, who only just yesterday scathed you with her tongue.

Dread opens inside you.

Were you really going to do this?

You quickly dress yourself and set aside a few extra outfits into a bottomless bag. You’re not sure how long you’ll be gone or even what the plan is. The longest would be until classes start, you suppose, but you can’t bring yourself to think of Sebastian being gone for that long. His absence exists within you like a dark, slick organ sliding around.

The effect of rippling water plays against the ground besides the window to the lake. It soothes you, strangely. You stop and stare.

Usually, Ominis would be here, waiting to con first years.

You feel a lump rise in your throat. What would you even say to each other? There was so much and nothing at all.

But he couldn’t hate you that badly, right? He did invite you along with the search.

Instead of flying, you decide to use Floo Flames to travel to Feldcroft. It only serves to further twist your stomach, though, and you allow yourself a moment of calm before plunging yourself headfirst into what you can only assume is going to be a catastrophe.

Smoke puffs out of the chimney. You knock, but push your way inside without waiting.

It’s clear that you’ve interrupted an argument between Anne and Ominis; a distinct tension hangs in the air, and even though you had only just arrived, you get the feeling that they were talking about you.

“Hello,” you say.

Anne’s face tightens like a face. Ominis’ sightless eyes slide in your direction. “You’re here.”

“You don’t pretend like you’re so excited to see me,” you say, slinging your bag to the floor. It’s strange, entering into a space that carries so many memories become hostile.

“We weren’t pretending,” Anne deadpans.

An awkward silence follows.

You shuffle your feet.

“Well we better get going,” Ominis says finally. He’s dressed impeccably as always, straw colored hair styled away from his face. Anne moves to collect their bags.

“Wait,” you say. “Go where? We haven’t talked about —”

Anne snaps, “We already did.”

“Without me?” Your eyes widen in surprise, then narrow as your brows knit together. “I thought you asked me to come so I could help.”

Anne scowls. You remain rooted in place as she storms past you, knocking into your shoulder with exaggerated intent.

The door slams behind her, leaving you and Ominis — the first day you’ve been alone since the day of the incident.

He sighs in a resigned manner. “She doesn’t want you here.”

“Really? How’d you guess?”

Ominis clicks his tongue. “I invited you because I figured that you might, possibly, get us closer to Seb — to him.” His name gutters in Ominis’ throat. He swallows. “Although I will say that if it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“What are you trying to imply?”

“I think you know,” Ominis all but hisses. “You were the one to encourage his silly fantasies. If you would’ve just stopped him before —”

“Me?” You echo in astonishment. “I’m not the only one to blame here.”

Ominis’ mouth pulls down in a frown. “I tried to stop him. I told him that it wasn’t safe, that it was going to lead him down a dangerous path. And now look where we are.”

“We both know once Sebastian gets something in his head that nothing will stop him, not even a graphorn.” Rage simmers in the pit of your stomach, boiling your veins. “And both of us were there.”

“You know what my family did to me, what they made me do,” he fires back. “And now the Dark Arts have taken my best friend too. I wish we never would’ve met you, because then none of this would’ve been happening!”

His words stun you into silence, an icy balm on your raging emotions.

Your voice is strained, apologetic, “Ominis —”

“Don’t.” His jaw clenches. Softer, he says, “Don’t.”

Your hand drops to your side as he marches past you, his aristocratic features twisted in frustration. You don’t follow him.

You stand there, silence settling over you.

And then tears spring to your eyes.

Ominis never wanted to even meet you. No, you refuse to believe that’s true. Ominis — and Anne — were hurt, and if you needed to be the source for their anger, then so be it. It’s not like you hadn’t already come to the same conclusion.

Your gaze floats over the humble kitchen and dining area. It’s considerably cleaner than yesterday, which you figure is Ominis’ doing. Remnants of breakfast are strewn about, barely touched.

The doors to Sebastian’s room and Solomon’s room are closed.

And for the first time, fear washes over you.

Fear that you wouldn’t find Sebastian. Fear that you would never see him again. Fear that you had found your best friends, your family, and in one fell swoop you were going to lose them forever.

Each footstep feels heavy and leaden as you pivot and walk back outside, the golden fingers of sunlight stretching across the small town. Anne and Ominis stand a few feet away, Anne’s face buried in the crook of his neck as he holds her.

The sight startles you. It’s strangely intimate, and you feel as though you shouldn’t be witnessing it, like walking in on someone undressed.

Anne notices you after a beat and leaps away from Ominis, rendering him quite confused until she whispers an explanation.

You study them. Was something going on between them?

It’s difficult to tell. Anne, as pale and sickly-looking as ever, has no traces of guilt or shame on her face but the grief visible there is enough for you to divert your eyes. Ominis, standing now with his arms crossed besides her, looks as aloof and disinterested as ever.

In an effort to soothe yourself, you reach your hand into your pocket and grasp your wand.

“Let’s go,” you say. “Where to?”

“The Forbidden Forest?”

You stare questioningly at Ominis and Anne, the latter staring up at the darkened treeline in thinly veiled contempt. The bridge stretches between you and it.

“We figured we would start close and then work our way out,” Ominis says. Apparently, Anne isn’t speaking to you.

Doing a poor job of disguising your disbelief, you ask, “Do you really think he would be here?”

Anne shoots you a glare.

You don’t want to offend them, but you can’t quite believe that Sebastian would be hiding all of this time in the forest. Wouldn’t he have gone somewhere…farther?

“We don’t know,” Ominis says. He seems vaguely annoyed with his duties as a liaison. “That’s why we’re looking.”

You bite back your reply.

Well, if that was the case, then let’s check under his bed. He could be there. Or perhaps the Headmaster’s office. You want to say that you need to be more realistic about your approach, but you don’t want to create any more of a chasm between you and the others, so you just dutifully duck your head and follow them into the forest.

Despite the oppressive summer heat, the forest was disconcertingly chilly. You wrap your arms around yourself in a bid to keep warm.

“He could be anywhere,” you say upon arriving at a forked path.

Anne and Ominis share a look. Ominis delegates, “Our first year, Sebastian lost the Dueling Wands championship. He was devastated, obviously. When we eventually found him — we traced the magic from his wand — he was in a cave, practicing.”

You wish it could be that easy. Sebastian either ditched his wand or put an anti-tracing hex on it.

You ask, “Have you not already checked there?”

“We have,” Ominis says. “We saw traces of a fire but no Sebastian. We’re hoping to catch him this time if he’s there.”

Without another word, Anne and Ominis chose a path, it’s importance unknown to you. The conversation subsides to the sound of your footsteps and the faint chatter that’s habitual of the Forbidden Forest. Flashes of light manage to break through the twisted canopy of branches, guiding your way.

It saddens you, slightly, that you hadn’t known this detail of Sebastian’s life.

What else didn’t you know?

The forest closes around you as the three of you continue your hike silently. Flocks of bird scatter, and grazing deer stop to watch you pass. You do your best not to think about all of the other, potentially dangerous animals within the forest, especially with Sebastian at large.

Sebastian was an excellent duelist, of course, but anything could happen out here. A sickening feeling overcomes you at the memory of finding Jackdaw’s tomb. Could Sebastian have suffered a similar fate? Would his ghost be condemned to eternity here, wandering aimlessly?

You shake your head as if to physically dislodge the intrusive thoughts.

No. Sebastian was too stubborn to die. You would find him, and you would find him alive.

“Incindio.” Ominis flicks his wand, burning away a curtain of spiderwebs. You blink. Evidently, you had been keeping pace without keeping attention — the mouth of a large cave gaped before you, eager to swallow you whole.

You watch the last bits of spiderwebs smolder.

“This cave?” You ask. “But there’s…spiders.”

“Come on,” Ominis says.

A small part of you wants to persist that it’s Sebastian who’s afraid of spiders, not you, but, in the spirit of not making things worse, ultimately decide not to argue.

You let Anne and Ominis to go ahead of you. Under your breath, you mutter, “Revelio.”

Traces of ancient magic illuminate several spaces throughout the cave, drawing your interest to each one: the embers still burning, a pouch of galleons, and a bundle of tattered blankets. No definite signs of anyone.

You open your mouth to tell them as much, but abruptly shut it as Anne whirls around.

She addresses Ominis. “We should wait here until Sebastian gets back.”

“It could be all day,” Ominis tells her.

“I know,” Anne says sharply. Her tone softens then, just the slightest amount, as if hoping to reconcile the barbs of her words. “But if he’s here, we have to confront him.” She glances around, her gaze skimming purposefully over you. “We can take shifts. Two of us looking in the forest while the other stays, just in case. Ominis, you and I —”

“No.” You level her with a glare. “I came here to help. If Sebastian is even here. I’ll go first.”

Your statement is met with quiet.

Ominis drops onto a boulder with a significant air of theatrical display. “My feet ache,” Ominis says. He pries off his shoes and massages his feet, though he hardly seemed bothered by them merely seconds before. “These shoes are not meant for…gallivanting around.”

Anne’s hands clench. “Then why did you wear them?”

“Well, if — when — we find Sebastian, I don’t want him to think I’ve sacrificed fashion in the face of his disappearance.”

It’s a shame he can’t witness the absolutely withering looks from his companions.

You turn and march out of the cave without looking back. Fine. You could perfectly well search the forest without any help, as Anne had made it very clear that she wanted nothing to do with you.

She should never have told you about Ominis’ insistence on you tagging along. Why did she? It was starting to be ridiculous, her refusal to speak to you as if by doing so she might contract some horrible disease.

There’s a sudden thud behind you, followed by an impassioned curse. “Merlin’s beard!”

You whip around. Anne peels herself off the ground, and before you know, you’re doubling back to help her up. “Careful,” you tell her, because you’re a glutton for punishment.

She glares at the gnarled root protruding from the ground, undoubtedly the one that caused her to trip, and then at you. “I’m fine,” she snarls.

Anne rejects your preoffered arm and plunges into the trees.

You barely manage to suppress an eye roll.

This time as you continue, you comb the ground for any other tree roots or animals that want to eat you. Anne stomps through the undergrowth.

Although she suggested the idea, Anne wasn’t in the right health to be exploring by herself. In fact, you were certain Sebastian would go into cardiac arrest if he found out. But Ominis clearly wanted to force the two of you to talk, which you believe is more of a suicide mission than a bonding opportunity.

You’re broken by your thoughts when you nearly collide into Anne, who has stopped to lean against a partially charred tree. What could’ve done that damage?

“Keep going,” Anne huffs. “I’ll catch up.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“I’m fine.”

You raise a brow. “You know, you keep saying that, but I believe you less every time. If you need a break, just say so.”

“I’m —” she starts again. Her mouth snaps shut. Anne straightens. For someone who can barely walk a few feet without wheezing, she pins you with a convincingly stern look. “I don’t need a break.”

“Okay.” You shrug.

You leave her.

Branches tear and poke at your clothes. What even were you looking for, anyway? For Sebastian to suddenly pop out from behind a bush?

If he was in the Forbidden Forest — which you thought was unlikely — he wouldn’t leave some identifying trail or marker. Anne and Ominis were forgetting who they were dealing with. Sebastian was smart, smarter than his own good. If he wanted to disappear, they would have to try a lot harder than just browsing the forest.

Anne audibly struggles behind you, but you don’t bother stopping, using one arm to hold back a long hanging vine.

She calls your name. It’s only the second time that you react, when her voice thins with panic.

“What? What is it?”

A tangle of branches and leaping toadstool caps obscure your view of her. You double back, cursing the annoying fungi, and stumble upon Anne looking in disgust at something near her feet. Upon closer inspection, you realize that she��s stepped in something sticky and foul smelling.

She lifts her foot and the substance stretches with it.

“Troll bogeys,” Anne says.

You grimace. You’re more than familiar with the unagreeable body fluid. “I think you’re right.” Realization dawns on you. “But if those are troll bogeys, then —”

Almost as if on cue, Ominis’ high-pitched, reedy scream slices through the forest and disrupts a flock of teenaged thestrals. Their dark wings soar overheard like a damning omen.

Your gaze locks with Anne’s. “Ominis.”

“Come on!” You grab her wrist. “We have to go!”

If Anne had trouble maneuvering before, her clumsiness is only exacerbated by her panic. You know it’s not her fault, but the longer it takes, the larger the ball of dread in your stomach grows.

You stagger to a halt, effectively halting Anne as well, considering you’d been towing her along.

Heart hammering, you say, “Just-Just stay here.”

“What?” Her eyes flash, so much like Sebastian’s that it pains you. “No, I’m going with you.”

Your teeth audibly grind. “We need to get there now. I’ll come back and find you.” You pause. “I promise.”

Anne searches your face. Perhaps for deception, or maybe truth, and whatever she finds must satisfy her. She nods, once.

That’s all the approval you need.

Legs cycling, arms pumping, you sprint back to the cave. You whip your wand from your pocket. The mouth of the cave is clear. You can’t hear Ominis. Worry burrows into your mind, and you inch forward with caution.

Your eyes gradually adjust to the darkness. The damp, stale smell of the cave presses against you, invading your senses.

Ominis slides against the far wall, quivering, wand grasped tightly in his hand. His eyes are wide.

A massive troll stands between you and him.

You’ve dealt with your fair share of trolls before — your first encounter being with Sebastian — but this one is impossibly larger. Clutched in one hand meaty hand is a massive club lined with spikes, the metal screeching against the stone as it drags behind him, advancing on Ominis.

Without bothering to cast a disillusionment spell, you run forward. “Petrificus totalus!”

It doesn’t work on the troll, of course, at least not completely. But it stuns it and gives you enough time to rush it, slide yourself between its legs, and right yourself in front of Ominis. You know that he’s more than capable of dealing with the abomination himself, but in your experience, it’s always a good idea to have backup when you can’t actually see your opponent.

Ominis says, breathless, “Thank Merlin you’re here.”

The troll snaps from its temporary trance and roars, rattling your bones. “My name isn’t Merlin,” you reply. “And don’t thank me yet.”

“Is Anne here? Where is she?”

“No. She’s somewhere safe,” you tell him, in case that gives him more reason to worry.

Ominis doesn’t get the chance to press for details.

With impressive speed, the troll lumbers toward you, swinging it’s club up to the ceiling. You snatch Ominis away right as the club buries itself in the wall directly where your heads would’ve been. Pebbles and stones rain down on you. Hauling Ominis behind you, you skirt the troll’s hulking figure as it pries the club free.

“The Dark Arts don’t sound so bad now, huh?”

Both of you fire spell after spell at the beast while it’s distracted, bellowing as the magic sears its tough skin.

Ominis’ jaw clenches. “Never.”

In response to your barrage of spells, the troll grabs a boulder with one hand and hurls it at you. As soon as you evaporate it, another one takes it place, arcing through the air.

There’s a flicker inside of you.

It’s hard to describe, the ancient magic that resides within you, an omnipresent force. You imagine it like a fish in dark waters, it’s silvery body flashing as it twists out of sight.

You point your wand upward. At your command, storm clouds gather overhead. The troll has only just reclaimed its club when the storm compacts, rippling with blue energy; using your entire body, you drag down your wand, bringing with it a bolt of the same blue magic. It strikes the troll, it’s subsequent howl rattling the ground.

“Do that again!” Ominis yells.

You smile wistfully. “Noted,” you tell him, because explaining the fluctuating reservoir of your powers is too complicated.

The troll’s entire body shakes as it recovers. It’s giant head tosses back and forth, splattering saliva and crimson colored blood.

“Move!” You shout. The troll lumbers towards you. Ominis jumps to one side while you roll to the other.

He casts another spell at the troll, effectively getting its attention so that it pivots to him.

You curse Ominis’ misguided heroism.

“Wingardium leviosa!” You guide a shattered boulder from the troll’s initial attack through the air, and with a viscous swish of your wand, launch it into the troll’s chest.

“Confringo!” A red burst of magic erupts from Ominis’ wand and assaults the beast.

The troll relentlessly braves your series of attacks, seemingly uneffected by them. Mentally and physically, you gradually lose your gusto, fatigue wearing your mind and your body. It’s an endless dance — the troll rushing you, lobbing rocks, swinging it’s club, and you and Ominis, casting spell after spell and dodging it’s assaults.

Ominis performs an impressive spell combination. The troll staggers backward and, despite yourself, you grin. “Nice!”

Only, Ominis looks less than thrilled. His face, already pale, has been reduced to a ghostly pallor. You zap the ceiling above the troll so that’s it’s distracted, and you run to Ominis’ side, right as he stumbles and collides with the wall before sinking to the ground.

“Ominis! What —” frantically, you tear open his vest to find a bloody wound.

He smiles grimly. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

A million curses spring to mind. You want to ask him how and when, but there’s no time. The troll has batted away the shower of rocks you set upon it, heavy footsteps ringing out through the cave.

You’re not sure how much strength you have left — if only you had a wiggenweld potion handy.

“Protego!” You yell.

A protective bubble forms around you and Ominis as the troll descends upon you. You wrench your eyes shut as the troll hoists its club back over its head and swings it down. When you’re not immediately obliterated into pieces, you risk a peek — the spell has shielded you, but it’s done nothing to deter the beast. It strikes the bubble again and again in increasingly aggressive intervals, rage written clearly on its ugly features.

How much longer could you hold the spell?

Ominis moans, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

"Hey, over here!"

The three of you — you, the troll, and Ominis —freeze, your attention snapping towards the front of the cave. Anne waves her hands over her head. She yells again, "Come get me!"

Weakly, Ominis raises his head. "Is that—?"

"No," you hastily say. "Just-Just rest. I'll be back, alright?"

Which you thought was what you told Anne, who now has gained the interest of the troll. Apparently both Sallow twins are hard of hearing when it comes to following directions. Blood swells in your mouth, warm and coppery.

You have to stop the troll before it gets to Anne.

Since the goblin attack, her magic had been faulty and unpredictable, rendering her without the use of a wand. An angry troll barreling towards you seemed good enough a time as any to get your wand out, so you can only assume she hadn't brought one at all.

Summoning your strength, you push upwards on the balls of your feet and launch yourself forward.

There's plenty of boulders surrounding you, thanks to the initial attack of the troll and the subsequent ones thrown. You fling one into the air, ancient magic crackling like lightning, and hurl it at the troll.

It's small head twists on his massive shoulders, beady eyes locking on you again.

"Go!" You yell at Anne. "Ominis needs you!"

Ensuring the troll doesn't notice the sickly girl limp her way around him, you rocket another shoulder at it, striking him squarely in the chest. It lets out a bellow so loud that you have to clamp your hands over your ears lest it blows an eardrum.

It's wearing down, you think triumphantly. It just needed one last finishing blow.

You reach out with your ancient magic like an extension of yourself. A blast of blue energy shoots out from your wand. You snag a boulder from behind you and whirl around, flinging it at the troll with a surge of renewed power. Adrenaline pumps through your blood, heady and slightly intoxicating, mingling with the flickers of ancient magic.

The boulder crashes into the troll, who makes an audible oof, then falls motionless to the ground.

You savor the moment of defeat, but only for a second. You run back to Ominis, finding Anne kneeling over him and staunching the wound with her hands. Why didn't you think of that?

"We need to go," you say. You glance over your shoulder. "There's no saying how long the troll will stay knocked out."

Your heart tugs with concern at the sight of Ominis.

Vaguely, you're aware of Anne looking at you, but you can only stare at the crimson blood on her hands. "He needs help," she says.

"Right." You nod dumbly. Like water dispelling off the wings of a bird, you can feel your adrenaline diminishing, replaced by a distinct feeling of panic. "What do we? He can't walk and --"

"I know someone," Anne volunteers suddenly. "I-I go to them on occasion when I get really sick. They can help him, I know they will." Anne glances at Ominis, and then back at you. "Do you know how to apparate?"

[fortheloveof-sebastian]

I’m currently in the process of writing “Finding Sebastian” part 2!! I think I might actually have to split it up into 3 parts👀

Thank you everyone for your support! I recently got hit with inspiration so hopefully the next part will be out soon.

[fortheloveof-sebastian]

Sebby

Pairings: Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader

Summary: Anne accidentally lets slip one of Sebastian’s childhood nicknames.

Warnings: fluff, some teasing, talk about bullying, suggestive dialogue near the end

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: This idea first popped in my head because I may or may not have named a stray cat who hangs around my house Sebastian. I called him “Sebby” one day and then this idea grew legs and decided to run away from me much like the feline namesake of this oneshot. (I love stray cats more than they love me, apparently)

Typically, only very young wizards play Gobstones. This, you understood after overhearing several of your classmates mock Zenobia for her obsession; you'd only played the game once, but never thought about it as childish. You weren't proud of it, but the opinions of your classmates had swayed you into dismissing the game altogether.

That is, until you discovered that Anne loved gobstones and since you visited her in Feldcroft with Ominis and Sebastian, you were roped into playing as well. You didn't mind, actually. It allowed you a small peek into Sebastian's life before you entered it, and you secretly adored the mock squabbles between Ominis and Sebastian as they argued over who won or not. Anne seemed happiest while playing, too, so you indulged in a weekly, hour round with friends.

A putrid smell infiltrated the space, caused by one of the Gobstones bouncing out of the circle. Ominis coughs and sputters, waving away the smoke. You, Sebastian, and Anne all laugh.

"Warn me next time," Ominis chokes out.

Sebastian grins, tilting his head like a puppy who chewed your favorite slipper and knows exactly what they did. "Where's the fun in that?"

“Go on, it’s your turn,” Anne prompts.

At times, you find it hard to believe that her and Sebastian are twins. But then one will do something that will remind you so violently of the other (in this case, Anne’s impatience) that sometimes it makes your chest ache — how terrible it must be to have someone so deeply entwined in your soul plagued with an irreversible illness.

The game ends, rather unceremoniously, as Sebastian triumphs over the other players, and the Gobstones are tucked neatly away into a velvet pouch that Anne uses to store them in. Sebastian grabs them from her, to which she casually supplies, “Thanks Sebby.”

You and Ominis both freeze.

Sebastian freezes too, but for an entirely different reason. A dark blush colors his cheeks.

“S-Sebby?” Ominis repeats.

His voice quivers as he struggles to suppress his laughter. It’s only this that alerts Anne that anything is wrong, as she didn’t notice her slip of tongue, and had been absently counting the Gobstones. Her head snaps up, and she locks eyes with Sebastian.

His gaze turns from that of a startled puffleskein to undeniably murderous.

“Oops,” Anne says.

“Oh, Merlin’s —” Sebastian starts, but the rest of his words are drowned out in the waves of uproarious laughter from you and Ominis.

“Sebby!” You cry, your face splitting into a grin.

“Thank you, Sebby!” Ominis joins in.

“Oh, you’re so welcome, Sebby.”

“Sebby, you’re too kind.”

You and Ominis relentlessly volley back and forth, completely ignoring the look of utter devastation from the Slytherin. His protests quickly die out. Anne tries to talk over you, inventing excuse after lame excuse — “It was a mistake! I don’t call him that!” — but neither of the Sallow siblings are a match for you and Ominis, who are quite like a dog with a bone.

“I have no qualms disowning you both,” Sebastian declares once your laughter begins to subside. It’s almost certain that you would’ve continued but your cheeks hurt from smiling, and your stomach was starting to hurt.

Ominis swipes at an imaginary tear. “Oh, Sebby, we know you wouldn’t dare.”

This earns a snicker from you. “Yeah, Sebby.”

“I detest you,” Sebastian says, this time to Anne.

His sister regards him sheepishly. The hint of a smile flickers on her mouth. “Sorry.” Anne pauses. With an insertion of tremendous comedic timing, she adds, “Sebby.”

This time, the three of you elapse into another fit of laughter. Ominis lays on the ground, clutching his stomach, while Anne giggles behind her hand. Sebastian’s features screw up in anger. It’s only when he storms out the door, throwing it shut behind him, that you feel an inkling of guilt.

“Should we go after him?” You ask.

Ominis, still chuckling, waves a hand. Anne has pulled his head into her lap, where they sit reclined against the sofa. “Oh, he’ll mope about and lick his wounds but he’ll be back.”

You stand up and brush off your knees. Ominis tries to tell you that Sebastian will be fine, but you find yourself propelled out the door and into the night. The moon washes over Feldcroft. It takes a moment for your vision to adjust but you spot Sebastian just in time, before he rounds a row of hedges and disappears.

You trot after him. It wasn’t a secret that Sebastian had a nasty temper, and you wanted to give him enough time to simmer. You follow the path to the row of hedges — at first, you think that he’s just outright vanished. The familair crown of artfully messy hair, the slope of his broad shoulders, are nowhere to be found. But then your notice a movement beneath the willow tree, it’s branches blowing lazily in the breeze, and realize that he’s sought shelter beneath it.

Making no effort to disguise your footsteps in the case that he needed to collect himself — you were always horrendously concerned about others — you approach the willow tree and use one arm to sweep back the long branches.

Sebastian leans against the trunk, one foot propped up. His arms are crossed.

You step forward hesitantly.

“What? Done having a jolly good laugh at my expense?” Sebastian asks, tone bitter. “Don’t let me stop you.”

You cringe slightly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, go ahead. You were going off brilliantly before,” he all but snarls.

The sharpness in his tone could peel flesh from the bone. Your hands form into fists at your side. “It was all in good fun,” you tell him. You had come out here to apologize, not to be berated.

“Really? I didn’t find it all that funny.”

“What’s wrong with you? It’s not like you haven’t poked fun at us before,” you remind him.

Even in the darkness, you can see his eyes narrow. Sebastian was an excellent duelist, and he tended to treat each verbal altercation with the same degree of savagery, no matter his perceived opponent. It’s perhaps why he ended up in detention more times than not.

“You wouldn’t get it,” he fires back. “You just don’t know when to stop.”

Your molars grit together. “It was a joke.”

“Hmph,” he says. He actually says it: hmph. You thought it was a word only made up by authors, but apparently it could very well be said.

You try for a different approach, intentionally softening your voice. “Please come back. I’ll make them promise they won’t bring it up again.”

“No.”

“Sebastian —”

“You don’t know what it’s like.” His voice, barely lifting above a whisper, nearly gets lost in the rustle of the willow branches. In fact, you’re not even certain that he said anything at all, but you stay quiet nonetheless. You’re grateful for this decision, as it evidently prompts him to continue. “You’re so great at everything you do. And everyone adores you.” His icy composure cracks slightly. “I mean obviously but…it’s never been like that for me.”

You frown. “I don’t believe you. You’re infuriatingly charming and quick to learn.”

“Thank you,” he smugly replies. His shoulders heave as he sighs, and then he wilts before you like a flower deprived of the sun. “Anne used to call me Sebby a lot, back in primary school. She was too young to understand that it only gave the schoolyard bullies more fuel.”

“Oh.” It sounds silly leaving your lips, but you find that it’s the only thing you can think to say. “I didn’t know.”

Sebastian avoids your gaze but shrugs. “You couldn’t have. Anyway, it just reminds me of what they would say. How they would mock Anne and I, and our family — how we were poor, our clothes, the likes.”

A frisson takes shape in your chest, threatening to crack open. “That’s awful.”

“I shouldn’t have let it consume me so.”

Sebastian gestures for you, and your feet carry you closer. It’s frightening, sometimes, how unquestionably you listen to him.

But you don’t care.

He draws his arm around you and pulls you into his side, your head fitting into the curve of his shoulder like a puzzle piece snapping into place. His lips are warm on your skin in contrast to the night air, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

Sebastian liked to apologize just as much as he liked to lose a duel.

“No, I’m sorry,” you say. “We should’ve stopped when we noticed you were uncomfortable.”

“Eh, I was being a proper twat.” Sebastian’s mouth curves into a grin. “I suppose I deserve a ruthless teasing after a reaction like that.”

You smack him. His stomach is taunt, muscled beneath your hand, reminding you traitorously of how he looked beneath his school attire. Mercifully, it was dark, and Sebastian was unable to see your blush from this angle.

“No you don’t.” You hook your hand in his, your fingers lacing together. “Sebby.”

He exhales sharply, but you can sense that he’s smiling. “Blimey that’s going to take some getting used to.” Sebastian gazes at you, at your entwined hands. “Although I suppose there’s no way I can convince you and Ominis to forget it.”

“Oh, absolutely not.” You laugh. “Ominis has an aggravatingly permanent memory. Especially when it comes to bugging you.”

Sebastian laughs too. “Fair enough.”

You lapse into silence. As your conversation subsides, the sounds of the night sharpen: the rustle of the leaves in the wind, crickets, somewhere in the distance a mother calling out for her child. Sebastian is warm besides you. Familiar and reliable and lovely. You’re overly aware of his breathing, the way his chest rises.

In fact, you’re annoyingly aware of everything about Sebastian.

“Should we go back, Sebby?” You ask. If you had a choice, you would’ve stayed beneath the willow tree all night. But fatigue had begun to settle in your bones, and you would much rather prefer to be nestled up next to Sebastian in bed.

Sebastian surprises you, and you cry out — like a dance, he spins you, using the momentum to pin your entwined hand over your head and your body under his. Heat rushes between your legs.

“Depends,” he mumbles in your ear. His lips graze over your earlobe, the sensitive skin of your neck beneath.

All clarity deserts you in moments such as these, when you would appreciate it most.

“On what?” You stammer back.

His answer causes your stomach to dip, the way it does when you drop too quickly from your broom.

“On whether or not you’re going to say my name…my real name…when you scream out for me tonight.”

[fortheloveof-sebastian]

The One Who Has My Heart

Pairings: Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary: The second task of the Triwizard Tournament is to recover what’s been taken from you…little do you know just how true that is.

Warnings: potential kidnapping?, kissing, fluff

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: This request is for @scarydeadlavender Thank you for the prompt, I hope you enjoy it😁

Currently, you’re standing on a platform that’s been erected out of the lake. A few hundred feet below you, the surface of the lake roiled, dark and murky; it made sense why it had earned the nickname of the Black Lake. It wasn’t too difficult to imagine terrifying creatures dwelling within the unpredictable waters.

If the other two champions — a broad shouldered boy from Durmstrang and a wispy, waif-like girl from Beaxbatons — were nervous about this task, this didn’t show it. In fact, they stood on two adjacent platforms, leaning forward with intent.

Your eyes scan the crowd nervously.

Still no Sebastian. You can’t help but feel disappointed by his apparent absence. Where else could he be? He even told you the night before that he would be ready to congratulate you on another win, considering that he had been in detention during the first task. You had tried to assuage his guilt on missing out by insisting that it didn’t matter — and it didn’t, not really — but it had lifted your spirits to think that he might be watching today.

“ — have precisely an hour to recover what’s been taken from them.”

A whistle blows, and the other two champions waste no time diving into the water. You shake your heads, dislodging your worries of Sebastian. A roar of impatience and disbelief assails you from the Hogwarts student section, shouting at you to go and launching you into movement.

You take a deep breath and swan dive into the lake, the icy water engulfing you. The shock nearly immobiles you, until you open your eyes and notice the two other champions are already swimming away, leaving behind a trail of bubbles in their wake.

“I’m here.”

You turn, relieved. Staring back at you is a mermaid, more otherworldly than human, with hair that flows and waves in the current like the tangled black seaweed below you.

The mermaid encircles her arms around your neck and latches a necklace there. Instantly, the pressure of holding your breath releases, and the water clears significantly. The necklace granted you breathing and visibility abilities beneath the water, a special relic that the mermaid swore to bring to you — thanks to Ominis, of course.

Sebastian told you in confidence that his fellow Slytherin had struck up a friendship with one of the fishy beasts, and upon hearing about your latest task, you knew that it would be a great help. Ominis was incensed, understandably, that Sebastian had given away another one of his closely guarded secrets but eventually conceded. After all, he wanted Hogwarts to win the Triwizard Tournament as bad as anyone.

You and Ominis struck a deal with the mermaid, after Ominis vaguely declared that she owed him a favor.

Part of you didn’t believe she would come, most likely because you didn’t trust this mermaid. Her name was Kaya, and she had taken an instant liking to Sebastian as soon as she saw him. Too much of a liking for your taste.

“They said that I needed to recover what’s been taken from me,” you tell Kaya, recalling the only instruction you managed to catch.

The mermaid smiles knowingly. Or else, you think that she’s smiling. Her mouth, lined with razor sharp teeth, looks more cunning then helpful. “And what are you missing, human?”

You rack your brain. Was this task metaphorical? Did they secretly steal away with something from your dorm in the middle of the night?

Then, it strikes you — Sebastian. Sebastian was missing.

Your heart pounds. You knew he wouldn’t have missed for just any reason! But that means that he was here somewhere, in the lake.

“Sebastian,” you say aloud. “Where is he?”

“He’s safe,” the mermaid says.

You narrow your eyes. “Where. Is. He.”

“I helped you with your task,” the mermaid hauntily replies. “So I’ve just taken my payment.”

“If recovering Sebastian is my task, and you’ve taken him, then you have not helped me!” You shout. Red hot anger shoots through you. “You can’t do this. Bring me to Sebastian. Now.”

“Mr. Gaunt said that I only had to give you the mermaid relic,” Kaya says.

Your hands form into fists. “He also said that you have to help me win.” Resisting the urge to throttle the mermaid, you demand, “You have to take me to Sebastian or else your debt with Ominis — er, Mr. Gaunt — will not be repaid.”

Fae can not be trusted, you remember from your studies. But they also take favors and debts seriously, which you hope is enough to convince this magical creature to listen.

The mermaid studies you for a moment, and it’s as if you can feel your alotted time to complete the task slipping away. Finally, she sighs. “Fine, follow me. But keep up. I won’t go back for you.”

Easier said than done. It’s a battle to keep up with her — although she might’ve alleviated your need to breath air and your poor human vision, you aren’t nearly as fast as her. Her fishlike body cuts effortlessly through the seaweed, churning up sand and rocks in your face as you scramble after her. Fortunately for you, her supposed hiding place isn’t far from where you had dived into the lake from the platforms.

The mermaid points inside the mouth of an underwater cave. “He’s in there.”

You don’t have time to debate whether or not she’s telling the truth. At this point, your concern isn’t about the tournament but whether Sebastian is safe. Forcing your way into the cave, you navigate through the pitch darkness for a few feet before remembering that you have your wand. “Lumos,” you whisper.

Light illuminates your surroundings.

And there, at the end of the narrow tunnel, lays Sebastian. His eyes are closed, and if it wasn’t for the seaweed binding him, you would’ve assumed he was just asleep.

Frantically you dart forward and grab him.

“Depulso!” The spell propels you out of the cave. You cling to Sebastian, his body limply bumping next to yours as you swim for the surface.

The mermaid is nowhere to be found, but you prefer it that way. Cupping your hands, you fight your way to the surface, kicking your legs as fast as you can. Your muscles scream at you but you don’t stop until your bursting above the water, greeted by a chorus of cheers.

Durmstrung has already made it back.

You’re rescued by two older wizards who use their wands to carry you back up onto the platforms. Only then does Sebastian snap out of whatever trance he’s in — sputtering and heaving as he coughs up lake water.

“What’s going on?” He asks weakly.

Quickly you cut him free from his seaweed binding, and help him into a sitting position.

“How much do you know?”

Sebastian shakes his head, the motion sending out droplets of water onto your robes. His lashes are wet also, spiky, beads of water collecting on the ends and somehow, despite having literally just been dragged up from the bottom of a lake, he looks infuriatingly handsome.

“I—not much.” He frowns. “I remember leaving the common room and then…nothing.”

You quickly fill him in: about the task, the mermaid, and his temporary kidnapping. He listens attentively, his features morphing from confusion to shock, and then back to confusion.

“She kidnapped me?” He echoes. Sebastian leans back on his hands. “Well, I suppose I can’t blame her. I am rather good looking.”

You scowl at him. “I should’ve left you for mermaid chow.”

“But wait, if I was unconscious, then that means that I missed another one of your tasks,” he says, straightening. A look of guilt passes over his face.

“It’s not like you could really help it,” you say empathetically. “If you think about it, you’ve been kidnapped twice within the last twenty four hours. I suppose I can forgive you.”

He clasps your hand. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Sebastian, you really don’t have to —”

“And Durmstrang wins the second task!” The announcer booms. “One task Hogwarts, one task Durmstrang. Join us for the last task for the tiebreaker!”

Later that evening, you get an owl from Sebastian requesting your presence. You’ve been trying not to pity yourself for losing the task today, although it’s hard not to when your fellow Hogwarts students cast you accusatory glares. There’s no way you can refuse Sebastian, though — the cheeky bugger — so you heave yourself from beneath your covers and get dressed.

The Slytherin common room is mostly empty, besides a few students who are studying. You traipse inside uncertainly; Sebastian gave you little instructions, just to meet.

“Sebastian?” You call out.

Avoiding the pointed glares from a few of the students, you round one of the magnificent columns and spot a familiar backside. Sebastian’s turned away from you but whirls to face you when he senses your presence. Delight breaks out on his face.

He hastily fills the space between you in two long strides, then sweeps you into a passionate embrace. When his lips find yours, you’re taken aback by his fervent display of affection — it’s as if you’ve been apart for a dreadfully long time, and he can’t wait to reunite. You melt into the kiss. Sebastian’s hands slip behind your neck and around your waist, pulling you close. You’re busy relishing the moment when you suddenly hear the telltale sound of water being splashed.

You pull away from Sebastian just in time to see a large fin swish away from the view of the window looking out into the lake.

“Was that—?”

“Maybe,” Sebastian says, grinning.

“Sebastian,” you scold him. The matching grin that unfurls on your face negates the scalding nature of your tone. “That’s so impolite.”

“What? I think it’s a fitting punishment for a potential kidnapper,” he says defensively.

“Are you going to kiss me in front of the entire Triwizard board then, too?”

Sebastian’s grin widens. “Only if you insist.”

“I can’t believe you,” you say, laughing in disbelief but allowing him to ensnare you in another toe curling kiss anyway.

He punctuates the kiss with several smaller ones, peppering them from the corners of your mouth to the top of your noise. “Why not? I can’t just go around letting psychotic, kidnapping mermaids think they have a chance with me. Everyone needs to know who really has my heart.”

[fortheloveof-sebastian]

Bloody Good Luck

Pairings: Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary: Garreth tries to help ease your nerves about public speaking with a new potion. When things don’t exactly go as planned, Sebastian is there to support you.

Warnings: public speaking, fluff, blood and nosebleeds, playful fighting

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: This oneshot was requested by @sallyface1726 ! I hope this is what you were looking for. I think I might’ve gone off a little from your original request, but I hope you enjoy, I had a fun time writing it🥰

"Here, this will do it."

"What is it?"

You peer into the cauldron set in front of you. Boiling inside is a sickly-looking green liquid. The creator of said potion, Garreth, beams at you with an enthusiasm that you can't muster enough to match.

"It's very...green." It's the kindest thing you can think to say.

Garreth grins. "Isn't it bloody brilliant? This should do the trick to ease all of your worries."

Using the tip of your wand, you poke at the boiling potion. It doesn't burn your wand like acid, or turn it a funny color, or any other abhorrent third thing that you have yet to imagine; not to say that it bolsters your confidence, you're still rather quite concerned that you've somehow cemented your death.

"Have you tried it?" You ask the red headed Gryffindor.

Garreth's expression wavers. "No," he admits, then quickly adds, "but that's only because I don't need it, remember? I paired up with Amit for the project. He's taken care of it all."

Internally, you curse yourself. It would've been smart to complete the project with a partner, but you dreaded the outcomes — either you shouldered the entire thing by yourself, or your opinions were smothered by an insufferable know-it-all. Besides, your grade in Beasts Class was severely tanking, and you needed to secure a perfect score without any liability.

That is, of course, not counting your crippling fear of public speaking.

You had been complaining to Sebastian and Ominis on your way to class last week; flanked by the two Slytherin, and strolling casually through the courtyard, you thought you were safe. But apparently, you hadn't taken into consideration that your fears would be overhead, especially by that of Garreth, who you either loved or tolerated based on his current antics.

"Did you say you're worried?" Garreth had asked, barging between you and Ominis, slightly out of breath as if he had ran across the castle.

Ominis scoffed at the intrusion, his expression souring. "Well, pardon me," he retorted.

"I forgive you, mate," Garreth said, oblivious. He pushed the hair from his face. "So, did you say you had some worries about the upcoming presentation?"

Your gaze has drifted to Sebastian. He shrugged.

"Um, yeah," you finally admitted.

"Listen, I've been working on something — no, no, don't give me that face. I've been working on something to ease people's fears. A potion. After you drink it, your fears will vanish."

You frowned. "And how does that work?"

"Like I said, I've been working on it." Garreth grinned at you. "What do you say? You could be the first person to try it."

"I don't know —" you began.

Garreth's eyes widened. "Please? I'm sure it will be a smashing success. I'll even share the profits with you! Everyone will be dying to try it. I happen to know a first year who is so terrified of Professor Sharpe that he might buy the 'ole lot —"

"Fine," you conceded.

Garreth's mouth snapped shut. If you hadn’t been so reluctant about accepting, you might've smiled at his childlike excitement.

You’re then brought back to the present by Garreth pushing a goblet in your hand. "You'll want to take it now, before class, so that it has time to work," Garreth instructs.

Miserably, you look down into the goblet.

"Are you really going to drink that?" Sebastian's familiar voice floats into the room. Garreth and you both turn to find him strolling into the empty Potions classroom, shrugging on his robes.

You grimace. "I think so."

"And you tested it?" Sebastian asks. He stands slightly behind you now, and his proximity incites an entire flock of jobberknolls in your stomach.

Garreth has the good sense to appear nervous.

"Um, yeah, of course," he says. He suddenly loses the ability to maintain eye contact, then mumbles some excuse about finding Amit and scurries away. Sebastian watches him leave.

"I don't have a good feeling about this."

You gently punch his arm. "You didn't have to scare him away."

"What?" Sebastian feigns offense. "I did not."

"Yes, you did," you reply, full of amusement. "After you hexed Everett the other day for pranking me, no one wants to cross you."

Sebastian pauses, seeming to digest this information. Finally, he settles on, "Well he had it coming for him."

"You don't have to defend me, you know. I can do it perfectly fine myself."

"I know." Sebastian's lips curl upward. You try very hard not to think about what it's like to kiss him. "I just like to. Is that such a crime?"

"Hardly. Although it could quite possibly turn into one if you keep on this path of leaping to defend my honor," you tease him.

Sebastian smiles, then, and the sight of it is like the sun breaking through the clouds. "Guilty as charged." His expression changes slightly. "You were kidding about taking that potion, though, weren't you? Garreth can't be trusted."

The liquid in the goblet gurgles.

"You know how anxious I get," you remind him. Even the thought of the impending presentation makes your stomach twist and turn.

Sebastian frowns. "There has to be another way."

"I'm doing it, and you can't stop me."

"Well, go on then."

You grip on the goblet tightens. Now, it was no longer a matter of easing your nerves but proving your bravery. Sebastian watches, in thinly veiled amusment, as you pinch your nose and then drain the goblet of its contents. The potion doesn't taste half as bad as you thought it would.

Slamming the goblet down on the table, you announce, "Okay, I'm ready."

"Feeling any different?" Sebastian asks.

"I don't know," you tell him, "and I don't care. I'll see you on the other side."

And then you march towards the Beasts classroom.

The class begins rather uneventfully. Professor Howin introduces the topic of presentation — the care of exotic beasts — and selects the first student pairing to present. You're grateful that you're not first, but when it's your time to present, there's a nervous stirring in the pit of your stomach. You make your way to the front of the class.

Sebastian smiles at you from the back row. Garreth gives you a double thumbs up. And Natty, who is aware of your social anxieties after a disastrous project in Charms together, straightens in her seat and gives you an encouraging nod. Emboldened, you launch into your presentation about the care of Thorny Newts, bright-colored amphibians who dwell mostly in the eastern regions of Asia.

While the presentation starts slowly, you gradually feel yourself relax. You're not even a quarter of the way through the presentation when the tightening in your chest loosens, and you're suddenly confidently carrying through the necessities of Thorny Newt care. In fact, you barely remember feeling afraid at all.

You're about to delve into the feeding requirements of the Thorny Newt when someone near the front of the class gasps. You're not sure what it's about, so you forge ahead. Only when several other students start to recoil in surprise do you suspect that something is wrong.

Panicked, you look for Sebastian.

Looking rather pale, he mimes wiping his nose.

You copy the gesture, and immediately feel a thick wetness; you pull away, and find blood now smeared across your hand and sleeve. Horror yawns inside you. Your speech falters as even more blood begins to seep from your nose.

In an effort to stop the bleeding, you hold your sleeve firmly against your nose.

"Thorny Newts? More like Bloody Newts!" One of the other fifth years shout. This provokes a chorus of giggles. Several more students chime in on the unfortunate situation, until everyone is either covering their mouths in disgust or laughing uproariously.

Tears spring to your eyes. You wish desperately that a portal would open under your feet and swallow you up, take you somewhere where nobody knew your name. A mixture of humiliation and sadness crash over you.

Professor Howin approaches you. "Oh, dear —" but it's all the time she has to say before there's another eruption of gasps.

Grateful for, well, only a portion of the attention to be diverted from you, you stare in wide-eyed confusion as Sebastian shoots to his feet. Crimson blood dribbles down his lips and onto the front of his robes.

The class has lost all means of respect. Chants of "Bloody Newt" echo and disturb the nearby beasts in their pens. Students laugh at you, and now Sebastian. Professor Howin swallows thickly, then glances between the both of you.

"Infirmary, now!" She orders. "And if this was just some ploy to get out of your schoolwork, we will be having a firm talk with the headmaster."

Ashamed, you duck your head and scurry away. You're about halfway up the path to the infirmary, nose still gushing blood, when Sebastian catches up with you. His laughter, which usually comforts you, only makes the blush burning your cheeks even warmer.

"I can't believe that happened!" He cries, delighted.

Doing nothing to staunch his own bloody nose, it runs freely down his face. You find it highly annoying that he still manages to be painfully handsome.

You don't reply, and just walk faster.

"Hey, Y/N —" he grabs your shoulder. "Are you crying?"

You yank away from him. Tears mix with the blood. Swallowing, you try to disguise your sadness but fail epically. "I—yes. That was properly embarrassing. In front of the whole class, too." You shake your head. "I'm probably going to fail Beasts Class now."

Sebastian scoffs. "No you won't. Not if I have anything to do with it."

"Why is your nose bleeding anyway?" You ask. "If you did it just to save me, I already told you that I don't need you doing that. And now Howin thinks it's something we planned."

You hiccup.

You hated crying. Your face got splotchy, and you could hardly control your voice from revealing your emotions. Perhaps you were a fool to think that taking a potion would magically fix your fears, or that a presentation could actually go well.

Sebastian persists, matching your pace despite your efforts to lose him. "If you want the truth, I took some of the potion after you left. I knew Garreth would mess up somehow."

You shoot him a glance. "Really?"

"Swear." Finally, he swipes at his bloody nose but it only seems to make it worse. "You were doing so well that I thought the bastard actually did something."

You sniff. "You think?"

"Yes! You were brilliant!" Sebastian exclaims. "Howin would be foolish not to give you credit for it, bloody nose or not."

You had almost made it to the infirmary. Your tears had nearly ceased, although the blood had not. "I should've taken your word about trusting any potion made by Garreth."

"I will abstain from my right to say I told you so," Sebastian teases.

The nurse at the infirmary immediately ushers you both onto side-by-side beds and begins working. Sebastian and you share small, secretive smiles when she asks what happened. Neither of you tell her the truth. She doesn't seemed convinced, but manages to find a cure despite your lack of answers.

You're given instructions to wait half an hour, in case the bleeding starts again, and then return back to class.

"What I don't understand," you say, as the nurse leaves to tend to another patient, "is why you took the potion too. You're not scared of public speaking."

Sebastian shrugs. "You're not wrong."

"So why then? Especially if you don't trust Garreth."

"I couldn't let you take it alone. Whatever was going to happen, we were going to go through it together," he explains. Somewhat sheepishly, he adds, "I should've told you not to take it in the first place instead of challenging you. You do a wonderful job in everything you do, there's no need for stupid fear reducing potions."

Your previous humiliation melts into bliss. "It's sweet of you to say that."

"It's true, though," Sebastian says. "I know you don't like talking in front of others, but you're obviously so passionate about everything you do that hardly anyone even notices."

"They notice now," you remark.

"Shame on them, then. It shouldn't take a little blood for them to notice how great you are."

"Just a little?"

Sebastian snorts and rolls his eyes. "Did you have to ruin a perfectly nice sentiment?"

"I just wanted to confirm your perspective on the amount of blood that you qualifies as little," you reply with a laugh. Both of your robes are stained with dried blood.

The nurse dismisses you both.

You and Sebastian lapse into a discussion about how the rest of your day will look — now that you both look as if you've been in a horrendous battle — when he catches sight of something across the courtyard that makes him freeze.

Following his eyes, you spot Garreth moving through the crowd of students.

"Sebastian —" you warn.

"Weasley, c'mere you little twat!" Sebastian shouts. It's as if you hadn't even spoken.

He tears himself from your side in order to pursue the Gryffindor.  You watch, partly in amusement and partly in disbelief, as Sebastian races across the courtyard and finally manages to tackle Garreth into a pile of leaves. Sounds of their tussle rise above the chatter of students, interspersed with the flash of red and green robes as their identities get lost in a tangle of limbs.

"Who messed with you now?"

Ominis appears at your side. His features are the picture of nonchalance.

You sigh. "Garreth."

"Bloody nose?"

"How did you know?" You look at him skeptically.

Ominis clicks his tongue. "Just because I cannot see does not mean I cannot hear." There's a pause as you, watching, and Ominis, listening, observe the fight between the two boys. "Should we stop them?"

You frown. "Mm. In a second."

Sure, you didn't need Sebastian to leap to your defense like a rabid dog, but it didn't mean that you didn't like it. It brought a certain kind of warmth to your body.

Besides, there were far worse things in the world then to be loved fiercely.

[fortheloveof-sebastian]

Follow You

Pairings: Sebastian x Reader

Summary: Sebastian finds you with Highwing and convinces you for a ride, resulting in an afternoon you won’t soon forget.

Warnings: kissing, fluff

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: This was requested by @scarydeadlavender . I got carried away by this idea — anyway, I hope you enjoy🥰

“What is that?”

You whirl around, drawing out your wand. Out of all of the places to be surprised, the Forbidden Forest was not at the top of your list. Actually, you would prefer not to be surprised at all, but nothing did as much as seeing a certain fifth year standing before you.

You do your best to appear nonchalant. “What’s…what?” You ask innocently.

Sebastian’s features are composed into a mixture of disbelief and amazement. You think, rather briefly, that he looks particularly cute like that, his eyes widen and mouth open. But then he gestures behind you, breaking your trance. “The hippogriff standing behind you?”

“Oh.” You turn back as if this is the first time you’ve realized. “Yeah. Um, this is Highwing.”

“And how do you know Highwing?”

The hippogriff regards you in a puzzled manner, inquisitive eyes glinting in the light slanting through the thick canopy above you. If she could talk, you figure she would probably be saying: and who is this?

You shake your head — you only have enough energy to answer one ridiculous question at a time, and better to answer the one posed not by your imagination. Sebastian stares at you, a single brow raised, as if waiting.

“Well, before I answer that,” you say, raising your chin. “What are you doing here? Did you follow me?”

It’s Sebastian’s turn to appear sheepish. “Yes. No.” A blush reddens his freckled cheeks. “Yes.”

“And why, pray tell?”

He recovers from his embarrassment quickly. The familiar light of mischievous determination ignites in his eyes. “I asked you a question first.”

Highwing tosses her head and grunts. Clearly, she’s sick of the evasive measures. You scowl. Resigned, you explain the adventure you had with Natty, how you snuck into the poachers base and freed the shackled hippogriffs. Sebastian listens carefully, without interruption, but his gaze occasionally drifts from you to the feathered beast behind you and back.

When you finish, his shoulders lift as if to say: I don’t know what I expected.

He replies simply, “I’m insulted that you go gallavanting around having wonderful adventures without me, but I suppose I can forgive you in the spirit of rescuing endangered creatures.” Sebastian rests his hands on his hips. “So, have you ridden it?”

“Her,” you correct. “And no, not since the night that we escaped.”

Sebastian frowns as if disappointed. “Why not?”

“I…I don’t know,” you admit.

“Do you think she would let us?”

You both turn to Highwing. The beast stamps her feet, then flexes her impressive wings, feathers rustling like leaves in the wind.

Sebastian grins. “I take that as a yes.”

“Okay, fine,” you finally concede. You review the proper procedures to approach Highwing with Sebastian, who waves you off. He executes the procedures perfectly, robes sweeping the leafy forest floor as he bows.

Highwing blinks. The slightest of a smile unfurls on your face as you watch the hippogriff dip her head, and allows Sebastian to stroke her beak.

He beams at you.

You climb onto Highwing first as she crouches down. Whispered words of encouragement leave your mouth. You thought that you were sparing yourself, having Sebastian at your back, but as his body falls into place, you realize you have made a grave mistake.

Sebastian’s chest is flush against your back. Every time you’re close to him, you’re reminded of how physically demanding he is, broad and strong and warm. His arms slide beneath yours and around your waist. The proximity is, frankly, intoxicating. Distractingly so. You swallow, and grab onto a handful of feathers near Highwing’s neck, hoping to refocus yourself.

“Ready?” Sebastian’s voice says, close to your ear, breath fanning across your neck.

You imagine how it would feel for him to kiss it.

Merlin’s beard, you chide yourself.

“Ready,” you say.

Then, before Sebastian can do anything else to unintentionally evoke inappropriate thoughts from you, you drive your heel into Highwing’s side. The hippogriff whinnies and her powerful body coils, before launching you both through the canopy of trees. Branches whip past your face then, as you explode into the open air, a cooling breeze greets you, pushing your hair back.

The Forbidden Forest disappears from view, and the rest of the landscape unfolds in front of you. Thick patches of forest, beautiful mountain ranges, and glimpses of glistening bodies of water. Your gaze races across it all, taking it all in without entirely believing that it was real, that you were really seeing this. In fact, you’re so immersed in the astonishing views that you temporarily had forgotten Sebastian was behind you.

He had been uncharacteristically quiet. You realize that, since sliding in behind you, his body has tensed and is now gradually loosening.

Highwing stretches her wings and soars over the tops of the trees. Wind rushes past your face.

Sebastian, seemingly without his permission, releases a cry of delight, one fist pumping into the air. You laugh. With Rookwood and everything that’s been going on, you haven’t had much reason for laughter, for the freeing sensation unfolding inside your chest. Soon you’re both howling and yelling into the wind, clasping your thighs tightly onto Highwing and holding out both arms as the hippogriff arcs over the countryside.

You finally direct Highwing to land on an expanse of field. Brightly colored flowers create an aisle as the hippogriff touches down. Sebastian hops off first, and offers you a hand as you dismount after him.

The smile on your face has begun to ache from the effort of keeping it, although you can’t seem to stop. Sebastian keeps your hand in his as he leads you through the field of tall grass and swaying flowers, the sound of your combined laughter joining with that of nature.

“Where are we going?” You giggle, exhilarated by your recent trip and the boy whose hand you’re holding.

Sebastian laughs and shouts over his shoulder, “I don’t know!”

He continues to guide you, hand in hand, through the field and down a hill. At the base of it is a small lake, teeming with lily pads and the shadows of fish flickering beneath the surface. It’s only as large as a standard classroom in the castle, but the sight of it thrills you. Sebastian releases your hand and runs to the water’s edge, before kicking off his shoes and wiggling out of his black and emerald school robes.

A strange heat pools into the pit of your stomach as he removes his vest and begins to work the buttons of his undershirt. When he catches you staring, he smirks. “Care for a picture?”

“Oh, bugger off,” you reply, laughing.

You stand a few feet from the shore as Sebastian wades in, clad only in his breeches. His back to you, you allow yourself to appreciate the sun in his dark hair, and the splash of freckles across his shoulders previously hidden from you now on display.

“Are you going to join me?” Sebastian asks. “Or have I made a fool of myself for nothing?”

You can’t help but grin. “You always look a fool,” you tease. You frown. “But I don’t want to get wet. How are we going to dry off?”

Sebastian beckons towards Highwing, who roams at the top of the hill, grazing. “I say that we’ll be fine. C’mon, don’t be a spoil sport.”

“Well, in fear of that.”

You avoid his gaze as you remove your school robes, shortly followed by your shoes and vest. Too embarrassed to discard much more, you fold your arms in front of your chest and slip into the cool embrace of the lake.

You and Sebastian frolic in the waters like children, giggling and splashing one another until you’re both drenched. It doesn’t take long for your fingers to wrinkle, and the sun to burn your faces, so you drag yourselves onto the shore and lay on the grass, basking in the warmth.

Content, you close your eyes.

“You never did answer my question,” you tell him.

You hear Sebastian shift beside you. Prying open an eye, you find that he’s much closer than you originally thought, merely inches away. He’s laying on his side, one hand supporting his head.

He asks, “And what would that be?”

“Why did you follow me into the Forest?”

Sebastian smirks, but the tone of his voice betrays him. Slightly anxious, lacking it’s usual bravado. “I was hoping you forgot about that, but clearly I was mistaken.”

“You could never be so fortunate,” you reply. “I actually have an impervious memory.”

“Is that why you cheated on my Potions exam?”

You swat him, smiling. “Stop avoiding the question.”

Sebastian sighs in a resigned matter. “Fine, if I must tell you, I was following you to ensure that no harm came to you.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Now, before you say something about how you’re perfectly capable of protecting yourself, I already know that quite well. I suppose that I just couldn’t help myself.” A look of guilt passes across his face. “I hope you aren’t cross with me.”

“No,” you say, softly. You digest this information the way that you might savor the last piece of a particularly delicious hard candy, rolling it over in your mind and enjoying the taste of it. “I think it’s rather sweet of you, actually.”

Sebastian’s expression changes again, this time in a way that renders you speechless. His handsome features soften, revealing a fragment of vulnerability that you hadn’t seen but once before. Using the hand not supporting his head, he captures a lock of your hair and gently, painfully intimate, tucks it behind your ear.

“I care quite a bit about you,” he breathes. “I shall like to do everything in my power to keep you safe. However much you allow me.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you feel your heart begin to beat furiously. “I care about you, too.”

“And I shall follow you to the ends of the Earth if necessary. Or, perhaps, just the Forbidden Forest,” he adds. A grin breaks his serious expression, although you sense that he’s still being genuine.

“I think that I would like to be followed by you,” you tell him. “As long as you allow a little following as well.”

Sebastian laughs, tilting his head back, and the sound fills you with light.

“I suppose that’s fair.”

In an desperately smooth maneuver, Sebastian closes the space between you. He rolls you onto your back so that he looms above you, one arm trapping your head while the other comes to rest on your cheek. His eyes dart to your lips.

“To following each other,” he says.

“To following each other,” you reply breathlessly.

He kisses you then, and he tastes of lake water and hard candy and sunlight, of adventure and love and friendship. And happily you sink into him — as much as you knew in your heart that you would follow him anywhere, you wished that you could remain in that moment forever.

[fortheloveof-sebastian]

Not So Little Things

Pairings: Sebastian x F!Reader, Imelda x Poppy

Summary: You receive unlikely advice from Imelda about how to focus on the little things in concern to your “overly friendly” boyfriend.

Warnings: kissing, fluff, brief (deserved?) bullying of Leander

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Granted, openly kissing each other in the 1800s at school, in front of teachers, probably wouldn’t realistically happen. But it does in the wizarding world, I’m making it canon. Also, I kind of fell into the grumpy x sunshine trope with Imelda and Poppy and fell in love with it. Enjoy!

“What are you looking at?”

Natty’s voice, warm like honey, washes over you. However, it does nothing to dampen the spark of anger you’re currently nurturing. At first you almost don’t notice her, until she drops her books down rather loudly on the table besides you.

“Oh, hi Natty,” you say absently.

Her brow furrows. “What is with you?”

In lieu of explaining, you motion across fhe Diviation classroom. A horde of other girls in your year surround Sebastian. The room lights up as he smiles, and his adoring fans giggle while he traces the lines in their palms and predicts their future with seasoned showmanship.

A ball of jealousy forms in the pit of your stomach, like you’ve swallowed something unsavory.

He holds their hands so gingerly, the placement of his fingers on the lines of their palm deliberate and earnest. The same fingers that danced across your skin, played with your hair, and now traitorously entertained the likes of those girls.

Your quill snaps in half as your fist tightens.

Quietly, reserving judgement, Natty rummages in her school bag until she finds a spare. “Here,” she says, proffering it.

“Thanks,” you mumble, both sheepish and apologetic.

One of the girls, a pretty redhead, seizes Sebastian’s hand and presses her palm against his so that their fingers are aligned. Of course, his are much larger, and this contends as an incredibly hilarious reason to collapse into another fit of uncontrollable giggles.

“He doesn’t mean anything by it,” Natty says, finally settling in besides you.

Your molars grind furiously together. In response, you manage to hiss back, “Exactly.”

“He’s just a stupid boy.”

“Yeah but he’s my stupid boy.”

Class begins and you’re left to ruminate in your anger. You can barely focus on anything that Professor Onai is saying, and she mercifully deigns not to call on you; it’s undecided how much of that was Natty’s influence, as you swore you saw her jerking her thumb across her neck several times when her mother looked over in your direction.

As class concludes, you shoot to your feet and make an immediate beeline for the door.

“You can’t run from your problems,” Natty calls.

You throw over your shoulder, “Watch me!”

A stream of students envelope you in a facade of isolated safety. Above the din of conversation in the hallway, you hear your name being shouted. Cursing, you hunker your shoulders in a bid to make yourself smaller, but it was no use. You once watched Sebastian chase a first year from one end of the castle to the other just to return a dropped book — if he wanted to talk to you, he would find a way.

He manages to make it within earshot then, slightly breathless, asks, “Are you running away from me?”

“No,” you insist. Trenched in despair, your gaze darts back and forth, searching for a possible exit. “Not so much running, particularly, as just walking very fast in the opposite direction.”

Sebastian growls in frustration.

You glance over your shoulder. He’s elbowing his way closer and closer to you, using his advantageously long strides to close the distance faster then you can create it.

“Y/N, wait.” His hand locks around your wrist and spins you around. You’re merely inches from his face, which makes it just all that much harder to concentrate. He orders, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Um.” You swallow. “Can we do this somewhere else?”

“Can you please inform what this is we’re doing? You ran out of class like a dragon was on your heels.”

You debate the rationale of hashing out your issues here in the midst of the gallery tower. Preferably, you would go somewhere private, but that would involve telling Sebastian the problem, which furthermore would lead to you staying rooted to the spot, as you couldn’t imagine him agreeing to put a pause to the conversation to find an empty classroom.

You weren’t going to get your way.

Carefully, you pry off Sebastian’s grip on your wrist. “You basically humiliated me in front of the entire class,” you tell him.

Sebastian blinks, confused. “What?”

“You were like…” you wave your hand, as if hoping to magically summon the appropriate word, “seducing those girls and they were falling all over you.”

“First off,” he says, “if I was seducing someone, you would know it. Secondly, I was just being friendly.”

“Yeah, but do they know that?”

Sebastian’s expression, his usual look of bemused ebullience, shifts. A matter of seriousness crosses his face, so quickly and without warning that you might’ve laughed at him otherwise. “Of course they know that. You’re my best girl.”

A fission cracks through your heart.

“I just — I wish you would show it,” you say, although that’s not exactly what you mean. Words are escaping you. Sebastian shows you, but then he also goes and does that with other girls, and it makes your worries surface all over again.

“You don’t think I show it enough?” Hurt flashes across his handsome features.

You run your hands over your face. “Sebastian—what I’m trying to say — the way you acted in class today, nobody would even know that we’re together.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” he sharply replies.

Dread swallows you. You know that you’ve just pushed Sebastian very far from you, and there’s little chance in getting him back now.

The hallway has emptied, giving an echo to his words. You resist the urge to cry. You’re not necessarily upset as you are frustrated; frustrated that you feel this way, and frustrated that you’re not communicating it properly.

“Just forget it,” you say, voice wavering. Before he can see the first tear fall, you turn away from him. “Good luck on your match tonight.”

The only sound filling the Feast Hall is that of a kitchen elf, scrubbing the tiles and muttering about inconveniences. He, at least you thought it was a he, probably wouldn’t have shown his face if it wasn’t for the fact that you were the only one there; everyone else had bundled themselves in their warmest clothes and paraded out to the Quiddith pitch for the upcoming Slytherin versus Gryffindor match.

The roar of the stadium reached your ears even from your position, sprawled out on one of the benches in the Feast Hall. You half heartedly took a bite from your cold dinner.

There was a twinge in your chest, a pinch, that you couldn’t seem to ignore.

You’ve never skipped one of Sebastian’s games before. Even before you were together, you went to every single match. And now, here you were, wallowing in your own self pity, too humiliated and heartbroken to muster the strength to go out to the pitch and face him. It wasn’t like you were even going to talk to him, but just the thought of seeing him hurt like a punch to the gut.

From your view on the bench, a familiar Hufflepuff slides into view. “Y/N, are you still here?”

You nod, trying your best not to appear glum. “I’m not feeling well. But you’ll cheer for me, right?”

Poppy makes a face. “You’ll cheer for yourself! I’m not leaving you here all alone. C’mon.”

“Poppy, really, I —”

The smaller girl had already snatched up your hand before you could finish your protest. For someone her size, she was surprisingly strong. She drags you past the kitchen elf, who apparates himself, towards the massive double doors separating the Feast Hall from the rest of the castle. You stumble upon an impatient-looking Imelda leaning, hip and elbow, against a pillar.

“Imelda?” You look between them.

Maybe it was just a coincidence. Surely Imelda was waiting for someone else, or perhaps to mock anyone going to the match. Last week, during the match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, Imelda had gotten suspended for the rest of the season for punching an opponent.

Despite your theories, however, Poppy breaks every single one by strolling right up to the disgruntled Slytherin and taking her hand. “All ready,” Poppy chirps.

Imelda looks less than thrilled to be holding hands but she doesn’t immediately bite off her head, or even argue. You don’t realize that you’re staring at the two of them in blatant confusion until Imelda returns your stare with a pointed glare.

“Are you just going to stand there with your mouth hanging open like that?” Imelda asks. “We’re already late because Poppy insisted on getting your sorry arse.”

Poppy swats her arm. “Be nice.���

“Um.” You blink. “I didn’t know you guys were together.”

“It’s something new,” Poppy says.

She beams at Imelda. It’s quite infectious, her enthusiasm, and you find yourself smiling. You never would’ve pictured them together, but now that you were witness to it, it was undeniably adorable.

“Let’s go. All of the good seats are going to be taken and I want that Ravenclaw bitch to see my face again.”

With an indignant sniff, Imelda strides off, Poppy skipping after her like a bouncing puffskein. It’s subtle, but you notice Imelda glance down at Poppy with poorly disguised affection. Ever the traitor, your mind turns to Sebastian.

Even Imelda, the grumpiest person you know, makes it clear that she’s with Poppy.

Why was it so hard for Sebastian?

It’s a quite distance from the castle to the pitch. You shuffle behind Imelda and Poppy, grateful for the latter’s nonstop chattering. You don’t think you could collect your thoughts enough to hold a coherent conversation. Fortunate for you, though, the only person who typically could keep up with Poppy’s talking was Poppy herself.

You’re about a hundred yards from the entrance to the pitch when Poppy spots something in the tall grass and darts off with the vague promise to return shortly.

Your stomach plummets. Unlike Poppy, you don’t enjoy Imelda’s company. Especially today, when you’re already feeling low. Ever since you beat Imelda’s time in the broom trial, she had been painfully short with you.

“Why were you alone? Aren’t you, like, courting Sebastian or something?” Imelda asks, disinterest coloring her tone.

Awkwardly, you clear your throat. “I am. I just, um, wasn’t feeling well.”

You cough weakly.

Imelda doesn’t respond right away. Her gaze remains fixed straight ahead, undoubtedly tracking Poppy to make sure she doesn’t get lost. Then, she says, “I know we’re not friends, but you don’t have to lie to me. I saw Sebastian in Diviation today.”

You open your mouth to reply but then promptly shut it again. You’re not sure what to say — how many other people noticed?

“Everyone noticed,” she clarifies.

A groan escapes you. Embarrassed, you slap your hands over your face to cover it.

The start of the Quidditch match is preceded by a deafening cheer. You hear the whistle, then peer between your fingers to watch the miniature-looking players rocket into the sky.

Sebastian happened to be quite talented on a broom, but his reckless and competitive nature made you nervous. The stakes of today’s game would only exacerbate his willingness to ensure a win for Slytherin.

“You can’t let it bother you,” Imelda says, bringing you back. Poppy’s head can be seen, popping in and out of the tall grass.

You exhale. “Yeah.”

“I like to say that I know him well enough, considering that we’re on the same team.” Imelda stuffs her chin further into her scarf. The tips of her cheeks are pink. “He’s just one of those infuriating people person who doesn’t realize he’s crossing any boundaries.”

“Maybe you’re right,” you agree hesitantly. “You’re lucky to have Poppy.”

Imelda tears her gaze away from her girlfriend long enough to scowl. “Please. She’s the second biggest flirt in the school. She doesn’t realize it, of course, because she’s just being nice to everyone. But people misinterpret it.”

You consider this.

“How do you handle it?” You ask Imelda.

The Slytherin lifts a shoulder. “It’s hard sometimes. I try to remember that it’s harmless, it’s the little things she does that reassure me.”

“Imelda, Imelda! I found this for you!”

Poppy bursts out of the grass. She has something in her hand, and you don’t know what it is until she steps away from Imelda to admire her work. A bright yellow flower sits in Imelda’s dark hair.

Poppy claps. “I knew it would look so pretty on you and I was right.”

Imelda pointedly glances at you as if to say see.

You find yourself smiling back at her.

The three of you resume your journey to the Quidditch pitch, the colorful tents rippling in the wind along with the four house flags surrounding the stadium at equidistant intervals. Rows and rows of students fill the bleachers, displaying an array of interest in the game. Some were actually invested in quidditch, while others used the game as an excuse to be sociable or avoid homework.

You maneuver through the crowd, mumbling apologies, until Poppy finds who she’s looking for: Natty, Amit, and Ominis are all huddled together, along with Garreth and Leander. Natty waves as you approach.

“Shoo, Leander,” Garreth says. His arms shoot out and he pushes his fellow Gryffindor onto a lower bench, effectively opening up enough room for you, Poppy, and Imelda to sit. Leander concedes, but not without a betrayed look.

There’s a moment of silent confusion as the former students absorb the cheery yellow flower in Imelda’s hair. Amit lifts a crooked finger, “Imelda, is that —”

“Do you value your life, man?” Garreth asks.

Bickering erupts between Amit and Garreth, joined in by Natty and Poppy.

You drown it out by turning your attention towards the ovular field. You instantly search for Sebastian and spot him cruising above the stadium, appearing relaxed, although you know he’s anything but.

“He doesn’t play well when you’re not here, you know,” says Ominis from besides you. He’s drumming his fingers on his knee.

You feel a twinge of regret. “I wasn’t feeling well.”

“Hm,” Ominis replies, unimpressed.

Why did no one believe you?

The announcer bellows, “Gryffindor, two hundred points! Slytherin, still behind at only sixty points!”

Quidditch players arc over your heads, emerald and maroon colored uniforms flapping and inciting a gust of wind. There’s plenty to look at during a game — the Beaters, the Chasers; the crowd; the professors, dressed in house colors and pretending not to care about the score — but you can only watch Sebastian.

Seemingly on a whim, he glides closer to where you are in the student section. His brown eyes meet yours. From your seat, you observe him as his spirits visibly lift, and he smiles.

He races off.

“If you care about me or my pocketbook, you won’t miss anymore games,” Ominis comments. “I bet Garreth ten galleons that Slytherin wins.”

You laugh. “That was your first mistake.”

“Betting on Slytherin?”

“No, against Garreth.”

“Sallow from Slytherin has spotted the golden snitch, and Gryffindor is right on his tail!” The announcer declares, voice ringing loudly. There’s a noticeable shift in interest as the crowd focuses on Sebastian’s emerald colored uniform and the Gryffindor chasing after him.

With your untrained eye, it takes you a moment to spy the snitch. It flickers erratically, flashing in the sun above Gryffindor’s goal posts.

“Go Sebastian!” You yell, cupping your hands over your mouth.

Amit, Natty, and Poppy cheer with you, along with Imelda. Garreth and Leader, starkly opposed, shout encouragements at their Gryffindor seeker. Ominis panic grabs your hand and leans into you as you narrate the game to the best of their abilities. When it gets too loud, he can’t hear the announcer, and prefers anyways to listen to your comments since you focus mainly on Sebastian.

Your voice rises and falls as Sebastian races after the snitch, weaving in and out of the podiums. “He’s close! Oh, he almost got hit by a Bludger!”

Ominis grip tightens. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” you reassure him.

Your narration reaches a crescendo as the snitch disappears behind the stadium, the two seekers hot on its trail. Breath hitching in your throat, you shoot to your feet. If Slytherin loses this game, you were never going to be able to forgive yourself.

Unwittingly, Imelda’s words enter your thoughts.

You had to admit, begrudgingly, that she made sense. You couldn’t change Sebastian, or his tendency to be overly friendly. In fact, it was something you loved about him. It was the small things that mattered.

And, if one thing was clear to you now, it was that despite being upset with his actions, you still loved him dearly and wanted the best for him.

Murmurs rise as the seekers fail to return.

On the field the game continues, albeit somewhat slowly. Everyone is waiting for the snitch to be caught, inevitably changing the tide of the game. You held Ominis’s hand tightly. Slytherin’s only shot at winning was if Sebastian caught the snitch, subsequently preventing Gryffindor and securing the one hundred and fifty points.

Garreth bends over Amit and Natty. “Ready to pay up, Gaunt?”

Ominis’s only response is a gesture that could be considered poor sportsmanship. Normally you would’ve laughed but you’re wound too tightly with nerves, holding you together.

A stream of emerald across the sky, then maroon.

Tension fills the stadium, then —

“Sebastian Sallow from Slytherin has the snitch! One hundred and fifty points are awarded to Slytherin, and they win the match!”

Jumping up and down on your feet, you cheer with the rest of the Slytherins as a roar of excitement rumbles through the stadium. Even the other houses could respect a good match, and an even better play on Sebastian’s behalf.

Laughter erupts as Garreth digs into his robes and then miserably hands Ominis a pouch of galleons.

“Butterbeers on Ominis!” You shout, smiling so wide that it hurts. Besides you, Natty’s eyes widen. “What? Is something —”

Diverting your attention to whatever has claimed hers, you discover Sebastian hovering on his broom only a few feet away.

You’re struck by how unfairly handsome he is. Every time you see him, it’s like the first time all over again; a hand reaches into your chest and squeezes your heart.

The wind has ruffled his hair and pinkened his freckled cheeks. His shoulders heave, either from excitement or exertion, but he’s never looked happier than he does now. You know how much he loves Quidditch and how undoubtably thrilled he is about winning the match.

He prompts his broom forward.

Sebastian eclipses your vision, turning so that he’s sideways in front of you, still straddling the broom. He smells deliciously of sweat and the freshly cut grass on the field, and something else; fire, your brain decides in a haze, the danger of an opened flame but warm and safe like a hearth.

His brown eyes twinkle. “This,” he says, grinning broadly, “is how you know I’m seducing someone.”

In a fluid move, Sebastian scoops one hand behind your head to cradle it, then pulls you close and presses his lips to yours. A cry of delight breaks out as he deepens the kiss. For you, however, the rest of the world falls away, and all you can focus on is pouring yourself into this boy. You try to impart your apology, your forgiveness, your love for him, and you can taste on his lips that he understands.

Another shriek of approval echoes as he triumphantly pumps his fist into the air as he continues to kiss you with unabashed abandon, holding up the golden snitch. Finally he pulls away as a few professors start to protest, but instead of looking ashamed he looks even more exhilarated than before.

You grin wildly at each other.

He’s swept away by his teammates, then, and you watch his retreating form as he celebrates.

Your friends and several strangers pat you on the back and congratulate you for the kiss, making you blush. Imelda is last, the yellow flower still sitting in her dark hair. “Maybe with Sebastian it’s just not so little things.”

[fortheloveof-sebastian]

Thank you to everyone who got me to 500 likes!

[fortheloveof-sebastian]

Ineffable Charm, Good Looks, and Deft Fingers

Pairings: Sebastian x F!Reader

Summary: Sebastian has a solution to the stubborn piece of hair distracting you from studying.

Warnings: fluff, Sebastian being suave

Word Count: 750

A/N: At this point, I’m no longer in control. Sebastian is. I think I made myself blush.

Also, in this scenario, Reader has long hair.

The whisper of pages being turned filled the library, along with the low chatter of the first years sitting besides you. Normally you would’ve exercised some of your seniority in the matter — there were millions of other places to talk — but you were focused instead on the stubborn piece of hair repeatedly falling into your face.

You huff. The hair shoots up, then falls limply back into place. Right in front of one eye.

It wouldn’t have bothered you, but considering that you were bent over a book, there was no way to avoid it unless you held the book over your head like a maniac. Partially tempted, you debate it in all seriousness, but a familiar voice interrupts you before you have the chance.

“Well look at you,” Sebastian chirps. “For once not in the Restricted Section. I didn’t know that you realized there were other parts of the library.”

You glare at him. “I’m surprised that they even let you in here.”

“It’s my ineffable charm and good looks. No one can resist it, not even ole Scribner.”

You open your mouth to respond but the same offending piece of hair falls, and sticks to the corner of your mouth. Sputtering, you grab for it. Sebastian, rolling his eyes, leans across the table and brushes it away. The touch of his hand on your cheek, so close to your lips, creates an intense burning sensation in your chest.

“Do you need a hand with that?”

You frown, pushing the hair away. “With what?”

Sebastian makes a gesture that encompasses your entire being. “Your hair.”

“Oh.” Nervously, you shake your head. “It’s fine.”

“Clearly it’s not.”

Sebastian edges around the table. His expression is so genuine and earnest that it temporarily subdues you, enough to let him move behind you; until his fingers start running through your hair, and you’re afraid you might literally fall out of your chair. You grip onto the edges of it.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

You can’t see him, but you can feel him moving. His actions are swift, confident.

“I’m braiding your hair,” he tells you.

Skeptically, you ask, “You know how to braid?”

“Mmhm,” he says, focused. Sure enough, he begins to smooth your hair away from your face and pull it back.

The first years stop whispering to watch this new development, and you feel your cheeks growing hot. “Where did you learn how to braid?”

Sebastian takes his time replying. You’re nervous that you’ve offended him somehow, but he eventually replies, “After Anne got sick, her hair got in the way a lot and she was too weak to move it. She didn’t want to cut it off. Our…our mum always preferred it long.” You hear the swish of his robes, and know that he’s shrugging. “So I learned how to braid.”

“That’s awfully kind of you, Sebastian,” you say after a moment of collecting your thoughts.

Whether he’s too busy or immersed in memories, you’re not sure, but this time he doesn’t reply. A few moments pass, and then his tone changes, transforming from melancholic back to its usual cheerfulness. “And done!” He exclaims.

Playfully, he flicks the braid over your shoulder before sitting down besides you.

Your hands fly up to the braid, and you stroke it, absurdly like one might a horse’s mane. You’re conflicted — it was an impressive braid, but you wished desperately that he hadn’t had to learn how to do it. You didn’t know any other fifteen year old boys who could braid hair.

“Thank you,” you mutter.

A flicker of sadness crosses his face but it’s gone as quickly as it comes. He smiles. “I hope you know I’m charging you next time. I won’t allow you to take advantage of my braiding prowess and my ineffable charm.”

“And good looks,” you add.

You’re aiming for a taunt, but you basically just admitted that you agree with him.

Sebastian’s smile grows wickedly wider. Instead of capitalizing on the moment, though, he grabs the bottom of your chair and effortlessly scoots you closer to him.

Merlin’s beard, was there anything he did that didn’t make you feel as if a hippogriff was taking flight in your stomach?

“Now that your hair is — quite literally — out of the way, let’s see what we have here. I’ll have you know that on top of my deft fingers, charm, and good looks, I’m also devastatingly intelligent.”

[fortheloveof-sebastian]

Lovebirds

Pairings: Sebastian x F!Reader

Summary: You almost miss curfew (again) coming back from a study session with Sebastian. The gentleman he is, he walks you back to your common room and his feelings for you accidentally slip out.

Warnings: kissing, fluff

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: For some reason I just really love the idea of Ominis being the disgruntled mother of the friend group having to deal with you and Sebastian’s shit. Mommy Omi.

Not gonna lie this one put me in my feels.

I intentionally didn’t specify a certain House in this oneshot. It probably doesn’t work as well if you’re in Slytherin, but then maybe just imagine Sebastian is walking you to the girls side😉

The rosiness of Sebastian’s freckled cheeks reminds you of the wintery dusk settling behind you, backlighting Hogsmeade and the snow-covered wilderness. A cold wind cuts through your school cloaks and, without thinking, you lean closer into Sebastian’s side as you both laugh. Naturally, his arm falls around your shoulders, and you walk like that into the castle.

“Well, it’s about time,” came Ominis’s cutting voice. “I thought I was going to have to send out a search party.”

Ominis emerges from the shadows.

“Ominis.” Sebastian presses a hand to his chest. “Were you worried about us?“

“Be still my heart,” you say, pretending to swoon.

Ominis clicks his tongue. “I was more worried that I would have to venture out at an untimely hour to drag you back. Who knows what shenanigans you two get up to, I should never leave you alone.”

The three of you scurry up the grand staircase.

“We asked you to come with,” Sebastian points out. His arm leaves your shoulders, and there’s a twinge of disappointment in your chest.

“Well, I don’t need to study last minute,” Ominis declares hauntily.

Sebastian rolls his eyes.

“No studying actually happened,” you say. “Your integrity would’ve remained intact.”

Ominis scoffs, and you and Sebastian snicker in response.

You did have all of the intentions to study for Potions. But once you picked up the necessary ingredients from The Magic Neep for practice, the sun began to sink and a chill set in, and you shuffled into The Three Broomsticks together. Sinora ended up plying you with new variations of Butterbeer she was experimenting with, and Potions quickly fell to the wayside.

You actually had been laughing earlier because Sebastian had a smudge of foam on his upper lip, and he playfully nipped at your thumb when you went to swipe it away.

“I’m not spending another detention with the likes of you two,” Ominis says. There’s a curl of affectionate amusement in his voice. “We ought to get to the common room before someone catches us.”

Sebastian says, “Go on without me, Omi.”

“Are you not coming?”

“I’m going to drop off my fellow delinquent here,” Sebastian tells him. “Make sure that she doesn’t run into anymore trouble without me.”

“I’m fine, Sebastian,” you say.

“Well what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you go alone? All kinds of frightful things traverse these hallowed halls.”

You tap the side of your chin. “I can’t remember, was it you or me who won our duel?”

“I was going easy on you,” Sebastian chides. “You know, being a gentleman and all.”

Ominis waves a hand. “I’m leaving, I don’t have the energy to discuss this duel again. Goodnight, Y/N. Don’t lose your way, Sebastian, I don’t want to hear you bumbling your way into the room again.”

Sebastian and you watch Ominis’s retreating form, and the crimson glow of his wand.

“He loves us,” he says.

“How could be not?”

Your conversation lulls into comfortable silence. Even with your history of banter, you also enjoyed the moments when you weren’t talking, just walking together in your companionship.

The last handful of students were rushing by. Shadows had begun to stretch and take form on the tiled floors.

Finally you approach the entrance to your common room, and you’re reluctant to leave Sebastian. You turn to him, hoping to steal just a few more seconds.

“Tomorrow’s Potions class should be interesting,” you say.

Sebastian shrugs. “We’ll be fine as long as we don’t sit by Garreth again. Class might be a touch boring, but much less explosive.”

“I had a good day with you,” you blurt. Your desire to elongate these late fleeting moments backfires, and you feel your cheeks burn. Did you really just say that?

“I did too,” Sebastian says, softly, and gratefully without a stitch of taunting in his voice.

You mutter the password and the entrance opens. You step inside, one foot in and one foot out. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“Yep.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yep.”

“Sleep tight,” you add. You haven’t budged.

Sebastian smiles. Casually, he says, “Goodnight, Y/N. I love you.”

His face spasms, and for the first time you think you see a light dusting of color cover his cheeks. You freeze, then, invigorated, say, “You love me?”

“Well, um, yeah,” Sebastian awkwardly replies. He coughs a little. “You know we were just talking about how Ominis loves us and perhaps my mind was still there. I didn’t mean anything by —”

You climb down and interrupt Sebastian’s nervous rambles by grabbing the front of his robes. He blinks at you in rapid succession, mouth ajar, obviously still fumbling for an appropriate response to accidentally confessing his love for you.

“I love you too, Sebastian,” you tell him.

You’re not sure who kisses who first, but soon he’s captured you with his mouth, pressing it firmly against yours. Faintly you taste the trace of Butterbeer, which makes you smile. In response Sebastian moans softly and then draws you in closer, deepening the kiss. Your fingers slip into his hair. This moment is everything that you’ve wanted and more and —

“OOO KISSY KISSY!”

A familiar blur of color soars overhead. Instantly, Sebastian and you tear apart, slightly out of breath and pink-cheeked.

Peeves circles back around and makes a face. He sings:

“What do we have here?

A pair of lovebirds

Caught in the act, oh dear

Kissing like they have no fear!”

He cackles, high pitched and splitting, the sound ringing through the halls.

“Oh, bugger off, Peeves,” Sebastian snaps. “I’ve had enough of you.”

“Caught red handed, in this moment of bliss

A moment like this they surely won’t miss

But it’s not a secret, they can’t dismiss,” Peeves continues to bellow, laughing devilishly.

You grab Sebastian’s arm. “Don’t bother giving him the time of day. He won’t quit.”

Sebastian looks back at you, and his face softens.

He sighs. “I’m afraid you’re right.”

“I tend to be quite often, yet people are always surprised.”

Sebastian chuckles, then pulls you in for a hug. Your cheek ends up in the crook of his neck, and the feel of him is so warm and safe and good. Peeves resumes his mocking but you both ignore it, and in good time he leaves to wreck havoc elsewhere.

“Told you,” you say.

“Say it again.”

You raise a brow. “Told you?”

He smiles again, and rolls his eyes. “No, what you said before. I want to hear it again.”

You rack your brain, then realize what he means. Your heart pounds. Mirroring his smile, you lean in and whisper, “I love you, Sebastian.”

[fortheloveof-sebastian]

Masterlist of Works

Series:

Finding Sebastian: Part One, Part Two

Oneshots:

Lovebirds

Ineffable Charm, Good Looks, and Deft Fingers

Not So Little Things

Sebby

Requests:

Follow You

Bloody Good Luck

The One Who Has My Heart

Let me know if you have any requests for Sebastian!🐍

[fortheloveof-sebastian]

Finding Sebastian: Part One

Pairings: Sebastian x F!Reader

Summary: (minor spoilers) Sebastian disappears before your fifth year is over, and you’re left reeling in his absence. When Anne confronts you about your connection to her uncle’s death and her brother’s disappearance, you don’t expect her to also invite you to join her and Ominis in a quest to find him and bring him home.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: spoilers for Hogwarts Legacy, mentions of death

A/N: I wanted to include this oneshot in my first post, I might expand upon it. There’s so much to be explored after Hogwarts Legacy ends. Of course, I’ve changed it up a little. I hope you enjoy!

Summer had descended on the town of Feldcroft, arriving with bountiful colors of green grass on the surrounding mountains and hills and below you, as you sail past on your broom, bright bursts of wildflowers. You wish desperately that you could’ve enjoyed your journey, it wasn’t often that ventured outside of Hogwarts’s grounds; your stomach churns as you lands, expertly dismounting.

The handful of townspeople out and conducting their business hardly acknowledge you. You likee to think it was because you had frequented Feldcroft several times over the last year, and they were familiar with you, but you knew in your heart that was a lie. Because as soon as you turned a corner, or looked away, you felt their hateful gazes burning into your retreating form.

Could you blame them?

Although disputed heavily through the Wizarding World, everyone had heard of Sebastian’s plight into dark magic. It was common knowledge that you were friends, and undoubtedly had a hand in it. No one knew the extent of your involvement, however, besides you, Sebastian, and Ominis.

And perhaps now Anne.

A pit of dread opens in your stomach. You received her owl a few days ago after your classes commenced, and it had ran through your mind ever since: We need to talk.

You hadn’t spoken to Anne much, besides the fragments of conversation when you visited with Sebastian. Solomon often spirited her away, or she grew too ill to partake in your merriment and she vanished on her own. As you near their cottage, you summon all of your strength not to upheave the contents of your breakfast.

Anne’s uncle was dead — murdered — and with Sebastian missing, it was no wonder that she wanted to speak with you. You were the link between the two occurrences, despite however much you didn’t want to be.

Memories flood into your brain: traveling to Feldcroft for the first time, and your visits afterward, sometimes with Ominis tagging along, sometimes just with Sebastian. Your heart aches. You missed him more than anything. Several efforts to reach out to him had been unsuccessful, he clearly did not want to be found.

After the death of his uncle, Sebastian no longer wanted to be friends. Ominis, immersed in his anger and sadness for your him, stopped talking to you as well. You spiraled into grief, and then, before your OWLs even started, Sebastian vanished without a trace.

The following days, you felt distinctly as if a limb had been chopped off.

You could handle him avoiding you, not wanting to talk. But this — this was a fresh hell, one where you didn’t know if he was safe or what he was thinking. Surely he succumbed to the scrutiny and guilt and fled, but where?

You raise your hand to knock but the door swings open on its own accord. There, in the shadows beyond the threshold, stands Anne.

“Come in, quickly now,” she weakly orders.

With a lingering glance over your shoulder, you step inside and briefly glance about. The inside of the cottage resembles the one in your memory, albeit slightly more disorderly. Anne limps into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, and you realize that she probably doesn’t have the strength to keep things as tidy as they were. It’s hard to discern whether or not she looks worse than before; she’s never looked particularly well as long as you knew her, and now the sadness only exacerbates her sickly pallor and sunken eyes.

The same eyes — Sebastian’s eyes — are studying you intensely. Awkwardly, you sit down.

“It’s good to see you, Anne,” you say.

“I wish I could say the same.”

Her words strike you as if you’ve been slapped. You’ve never seen a glimpse of Sebastian in her before, but her quiet determination reminds you of him, and it startles you.

“Listen, I know you have every right to be angry with me —”

“Oh, I’m not angry with you.” Anne’s shoulders quiver. You’re not sure if it’s with the effort to remain upright, or something else. “I’m furious.”

Your mouth snaps shut. What do you say to that?

“Half the time, I miss him so badly I can barely function,” she continues, “and the other half I’m so upset that I wish he never comes back. Do you know how awful that is, to think that of your brother? Your twin?”

You don’t respond: it’s a rhetorical question, clearly. Of course you could never understand. But you were missing your friend, your lover, and that in itself was its own unique pain.

You mutter, “I’m sorry, Anne.”

She lets out a strangled sob. “Sorry isn’t enough to repair the damage you’ve dealt.”

“Look, I miss him too,” you sharply reply. Although you could guess why she wanted to talk, you didn’t come here to be berated. She wasn’t the only one grieving. “And I didn’t make him cast an Unforgivable Curse.”

Anne flinches, and then her upper lip curls. “No, but you encouraged him to dabble in the Dark Arts. Ominis told me everything.”

“Ominis,” you repeat, confused. “Have you been in contact with him?”

“Obviously.” She coughs into a closed fist. Once she’s recovered, she hisses, “You know, I was their friend before you. And then after I got sick they just…just…replaced me. With you. I was fine with it at first, of course I wanted Sebastian and Ominis to be happy. But then you led my brother astray, and now Ominis is a ghost of his former self and —”

Your jaw clenches. “I didn’t make anyone do anything.”

“Perhaps not,” she sniffs, “but you didn’t stop them, did you?”

“You know how they both can be. Sebastian is wildly stubborn, and Ominis — Ominis would do anything for him.” Tears spring to your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. “He just wanted to find a cure for you. And at the end of the day, that’s all Ominis wanted too. They didn’t replace you, Anne. They wanted to help.”

Anne is silent for a moment. Her gaze drops to the table, undoubtedly recounting the meals she ate there with Sebastian and Solomon, the games of gobstones that were played. She finally says, “No one can help me. I tried to tell them that.” She gestures vaguely. “And now look at me.”

Surprising yourself, you say, “Come back with me to Hogwarts. They’ll look after you.”

“No.” Anne shudders slightly. “I won’t go back.”

“You can’t stay here alone,” you persist. To die, you want to add, but you don’t. Sebastian would want you to take care of his sister. Not to let her perish in their uncle’s home.

“I will, and I am. What do you care, anyway? You were the one to take everything away from me.”

You swallow your initial response, feeling like fire as it goes back down your throat. Voice barely above a whisper, you say, “I loved him — love him, Sebastian. Can’t you see that?”

“He was only using you,” Anne hisses.

It’s as if she’s flicked open your armor and pressed a finger into a wound; the fear you hadn’t quite admitted to, preferring to leave it unexamined. He was a Slytherin, and so were you, driven by power and ambition. All of the times you agreed to help him, all of the doubts you cast aside just to please him, rush back to the surface. The thought crossed your brain, of course, but you never let it linger. You loved him too much to believe it was true.

Had your love for him blinded you? Was that why he wasn’t returning your owls, or any contact?

He used you for his plan — to save Anne — and now that it failed, he didn’t need you any longer.

You push down your sorrow.

You knew Anne just wanted to hurt you.

“Sometimes, if you love someone, you’ll let them hurt you if it means making them happy.” You hold her gaze. “I’ve made mistakes. But loving Sebastian has never been one of them.” After a pause, you scoot back your chair and rise to your feet. “If that’s all, I will be going now.”

You make it to the door, hand on the doorknob, before Anne’s voice stops you: “Wait.”

She’s halfway out of her own chair, hesitant, hand outstretched. There’s a mixture of regret and desperation on her face. She takes a deep breath. “I want to find him. Sebastian. And Ominis said that we can’t do it without you. That’s the real reason I called you here today.”

“You could’ve started with that, instead of all of the accusations,” you dryly retort.

Anne grimaces but doesn’t apologize. “Please say that you’ll do it. We need your help.”

“I’ve already tried,” you confessed. “I haven’t heard anything from him.”

“Us too,” Anne says in a whisper. “But that’s because we haven’t actually gone and looked. We — you — have the entire summer before next schoolyear starts. Come with us.”

You debate this. She makes a good point. You thought about going after him yourself, but there was no way you could do it alone. Considering that Anne hated you and Ominis had now resorted to speaking about you only behind your back, you weren’t sure you were in the best company, but who else could you ask? Ominis, Anne, and yourself knew Sebastian better than anyone else.

“Fine, yes. When do we leave?” You ask.

Anne has the decency to look sheepish. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? But that’s barely any time for me to prepare.”

She wrings her hands. “Yes, I know. I would’ve called for you earlier but…well, I’m afraid I was rather tame today compared to what I would’ve been like a few weeks ago.”

Hand still on the doorknob, you push it open. The summer heat greets you, pressing into you on all sides. You remember something Sebastian said — “Sunmer is my favorite season,” he told you one lazy afternoon. “Don’t you think it’s just full of opportunities and adventure?” — and inwardly deflate. Why didn’t he stick around long enough for you to experience it together?

Slowly, you nod. “Alright. I’ll come back tomorrow at dawn. We’re going to find Sebastian and bring him back.”