#Perpetual Birdsong (OC)

[laika-the-moon-pup]

Here's a new iterator! They love music and flying animals like birds! They're based off an ipod and speakers I had when I was little. The puppet is based on the speakers and the main color (overseers, text color, etc.) is taken from the color of the ipod.

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

Spring Fever | Sebastian Sallow x OC #18

Summary: As spring arrives at Hogwarts, Sebastian struggles with his growing jealousy over Evangeline Sterling’s newfound attention from other boys and his inability to confess his feelings. A lighthearted yet revealing conversation with Ominis and encounters with cryptic hints from Imelda and Nerida leave Sebastian both exasperated and more aware of his own emotions than ever.

Words: 8,408

Tags: Fluff, Jealousy, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Unspoken Feelings, Secret Crush, Friends to Lovers, Ominis Gaunt Being Done™, Light Humor, Angst, Light Implied Smut

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Spring arrived at Hogwarts in a rush of warmth and sunlight, melting away the last remnants of snow and breathing new life into the castle grounds. The Forbidden Forest hummed with birdsong, and the Black Lake shimmered beneath a cloudless sky, its icy sheen replaced with rippling waves that mirrored the sunlight. Students eagerly abandoned their heavy cloaks and scarves, reveling in the promise of the season, and the air was filled with laughter as they spilled out onto the lawns between classes.

It had been a couple of weeks since Evangeline’s bold declaration in the Great Hall—words that had cut through the buzz of dinner chatter and silenced the rumors about Sebastian's brawl with Lysander Clearwater. And since then, Lysander had seemingly disappeared into obscurity, his presence notably absent in the hallways.

Sebastian had replayed the moment in his mind countless times—the way she’d stood there, unshaken, her words ringing with quiet conviction that left no room for doubt. Each time he thought about it, his chest tightened with a tangle of emotions he couldn’t fully untangle: gratitude for her unwavering loyalty, guilt for the way he’d let things spiral between them, and... love. That last feeling hit him hardest, raw and undeniable, yet impossible to voice. He wanted to say something to her, to acknowledge what she’d done, but every time the words formed, they lodged in his throat like a spell gone wrong.

Not that she seemed to expect anything from him. Evangeline hadn’t brought it up even once. Her easygoing demeanor hadn’t changed, offering no hint that she sought thanks or recognition for her statement. If anything, it was as though the moment had never happened, her focus firmly fixed on her studies, her friends, and Quidditch.

And Sebastian should be happy. Lysander was out of the picture, winter’s bitter grasp had loosened, and his friendship with Evangeline had never felt more steady. Yet, inexplicably, he found himself resenting the arrival of spring. It wasn’t the warmth—he welcomed that after months of icy winds and snow-covered grounds—but rather what it meant for her.

The Gryffindor common room, perpetually cozier and livelier than the Slytherin dungeons, had likely nudged Evangeline toward lighter clothes well before most. And now, with the frost melted from the grounds and the sun casting golden light through the castle’s tall windows, she had fully embraced the change in season.

Her sleeves were rolled up just past her elbows these days, exposing smooth skin that seemed to glow in the sunlight. She’d foregone the extra layers of winter, no longer wearing thick tights beneath her skirts. Instead, she now favored thigh-high socks, leaving a tantalizing sliver of bare skin visible between the hem of her skirt and the top of her socks. It was maddening—that hint of skin, small but utterly distracting, like an open invitation for Sebastian's thoughts to stray into forbidden territory.

And it wasn’t just him. Everyone noticed. Everywhere she went, heads turned, and conversations paused. Boys who’d hardly acknowledged her existence last year were suddenly eager to hold doors open or offer to carry her books. Sebastian couldn’t even sit in the Great Hall without overhearing murmurs about her.

“Sterling’s really come into her own,” someone had said over dinner the other night, loud enough for him to hear it from two tables away.

“She’s even prettier this year,” whispered another, their tone dripping with admiration.

The courtyard was no better. He’d overheard Seventh-Year Hufflepuffs discussing her in hushed tones as they leaned against the fountain. “She looks amazing. How is she still single?” one of them asked, clearly angling to be the one to change that.

But the worst had been in the Slytherin common room, when one of his own housemates—a pompous prat named Callum—had said it outright. “Sterling’s fit as hell. Think I’ve got a shot?”

Sebastian had tightened his grip on his quill so hard he thought it might snap. The words were still ringing in his ears. Fit as hell? He wanted to throttle him.

Deep down, he knew he should let it go, but he couldn’t. How could he, when every lingering glance, every murmured comment felt like a personal affront? Because Evangeline wasn’t just anyone. She wasn’t theirs to look at or talk about. She was—

Merlin, she wasn’t his either.

Sebastian sat beneath a beech tree by the Black Lake, his legs stretched out on the cool grass as he watched the ripples spread across the water. The soft lapping of the waves might have been soothing if his thoughts weren’t churning like a storm. He’d skipped Crossed Wands for the first time in weeks, seeking solitude in the quiet sanctuary of the lake. But his reprieve didn’t last long.

It wasn’t a surprise when Ominis found him. It never was. The blond appeared with his usual ease, navigating toward him with the tap of his wand and a knowing tilt of his head. Without a word, he settled against the tree trunk, his back resting against the rough bark as he opened a book on his lap. He said nothing about Sebastian’s absence from the dueling club, nor did he acknowledge the tension radiating from him.

Ominis simply existed beside him for awhile, an unspoken reminder that silence didn’t have to mean loneliness. For all his sharp remarks and biting wit, Ominis had a quiet, grounding presence that could either soothe or infuriate, depending on Sebastian’s mood. Right now, it was leaning toward the latter.

“You’re quiet,” Ominis said finally, without looking up.

“Am I?” Sebastian muttered, leaning back against the grass and glaring at the blue sky.

“Yes. Which is odd, considering you’ve been in a mood all week.” Ominis tilted his head, his unseeing eyes turning toward him. “Should I bother asking, or should I let you sulk until you explode?”

Sebastian hesitated. It was a loaded question, and Ominis probably already knew the answer. Still, his frustration boiled over, and before he could stop himself, the words spilled out.

“Have you heard them?” he snapped. “All of them? The idiots? Every boy in this school suddenly thinks they’re in love with her!”

Ominis raised a brow. “Her?”

“Evangeline,” Sebastian said sharply, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. “It’s all I hear lately."

Ominis closed his book slowly, his expression calm but tinged with curiosity. “Ah,” he said simply, the corners of his mouth twitching faintly as if fighting off a smirk.

Sebastian groaned, dropping back against the grass. “It’s unbearable. Everywhere I go, someone’s whispering about her."

“Yes, well, Evangeline is quite stunning,” Ominis said matter-of-factly. “Surely, you’re not surprised that others have noticed?”

Sebastian sat up sharply, his glare cutting through the mild spring air. “That’s not the point, Ominis. They don’t just notice her—they ogle her. Like she’s... like she’s—”

“Like she’s the most beautiful girl in the castle?” Ominis offered with a smirk, his tone unhelpfully nonchalant.

Sebastian groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. “You’re not making this better.”

Ominis leaned back against the tree, his smirk softening into a knowing smile. “I’m not trying to make it better. You’ve been walking around with that storm cloud over your head for days, and frankly, it’s exhausting. You clearly just need to let it out.”

Sebastian scowled, his hands dropping to his lap as he glared at the lake, "I've nothing to 'let out', Ominis."

Ominis’s smirk deepened as he tilted his head. “Really? Then explain why you’ve had that blasted companion candle burning every single night this week.”

Sebastian’s scowl faltered for the briefest moment before he quickly recovered, straightening his posture. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered.

“Oh, don’t insult me,” Ominis said, waving a hand dismissively. "I’m not daft. You’ve been obsessively monitoring that thing so you can convince yourself Evangeline isn't sneaking off with some other bloke at night.”

Sebastian’s glare turned sharp, but the color rising in his face told Ominis he’d struck a nerve. “That’s not—” He stopped himself, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “It’s not like that.”

“Of course not,” Ominis said dryly, crossing his arms. “You’re just keeping tabs on her for... what? Her safety?”

Sebastian’s silence stretched, and Ominis pressed on, his tone unrelenting. “Face it, Sebastian. You’re driving yourself mad. You’ve been pining after her for what? Basically two years now? And this is where we are. So if you aren't going to tell her, you might as well let it out to me so I don’t have to keep enduring your miserable brooding.”

Sebastian groaned, letting himself fall back into the grass, his arm thrown over his eyes as if to block out the bright spring sunlight—and Ominis’s infuriatingly knowing expression.

“Fine,” Sebastian muttered, his voice muffled. “Fine. But if you make another smarmy comment, I swear I’ll toss that book into the lake.”

Ominis’s lips twitched with amusement, but he gestured magnanimously. “By all means. Unburden yourself.”

Sebastian let out a long breath, his hand falling from his face as he stared up at the sky. “It’s everything about her,” he said finally, his voice low and frustrated. “Everything. The way she walks, the way she looks when she’s concentrating, even the stupid way she ties her hair up when it’s windy.”

Ominis arched a brow. “Ties her hair?”

“Yes,” Sebastian snapped, sitting up slightly. “Have you ever seen it? She does this thing where she twists it up and—” He cut himself off, “Never mind.”

“No, do go on,” Ominis said dryly, gesturing vaguely. “I’m on the edge of my seat."

Sebastian shot him a glare but continued anyway, his voice gaining momentum. "And her smile—she does this tiny, smug little grin when she’s figured something out before everyone else. And don’t get me started on her uniform.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Ominis said, though his smirk suggested otherwise.

Sebastian groaned, “Those stupid thigh-high socks... I mean, how is a person supposed to focus when she walks into the room wearing those? I mean have you seen her thighs?"

Ominis’s smirk widened into something positively devilish, and he raised an eyebrow. “Can’t say I have, Sebastian. Do enlighten me.”

Sebastian gave him a withering look, but his frustration—no, his need—was too much to keep bottled up. "They’re… perfect. Perfectly full, just the right amount of softness. They look like—like—Merlin, I don’t even know what. But when she sits down, and they press against the chair? Or when she crosses her legs, and you can see just a hint of the muscle beneath? It’s maddening.”

Ominis coughed, poorly disguising a laugh. “I see."

Sebastian scowled, but the floodgates had already opened. He gestured animatedly, his words tumbling out in a rush he couldn’t seem to stop. “And it’s not just that. Her skirt—don’t look at me like that—it’s just a touch shorter than all the other girls because her hips make the fabric flare out. And her ass, Ominis. It’s—it’s impossible not to notice. And when she walks, Merlin’s beard."

Ominis raised a brow, his smirk hovering somewhere between amusement and disbelief as Sebastian continued on, too deep into his tangent to notice his friend's expression.

"And her shirts! They’re always just a bit too small in the chest. The buttons pull apart, and it’s like they’re holding on for dear life. And sometimes—sometimes, when the light catches just right, you can see her corset through the spaces between the buttons.”

Sebastian let out a strangled sort of sigh, “It’s driving me mad, Ominis. I can’t concentrate. I can’t think. She’s everywhere, and she’s perfect, and I—” He stopped himself, his voice catching in his throat.

Ominis tilted his head, his smirk softening into something sly yet understanding. “And you what?"

Sebastian froze for a moment, his arm still draped over his face as if it could shield him from the weight of his own confession. Finally, he exhaled sharply and sat up, his hair disheveled and his frustration palpable. “And I want her,” he admitted, his voice low and raw, “In every way you can want someone."

Ominis’s smirk faltered, replaced by something more contemplative. “Well I'm glad you're finally being honest about it."

Sebastian groaned, leaning back on his hands and glaring out at the lake. “But what good does honesty do me? She doesn’t see me that way.”

“You don’t know that,” Ominis countered, his tone measured. “You think you know her better than anyone else, but you can’t read her mind, Sebastian. You don’t know how she feels.”

Sebastian barked out a bitter laugh, his head falling back against the tree trunk. “Oh, come on, Ominis. She’s out of my league, and we both know it."

Ominis sighed deeply, his arms folding across his chest as he leaned back against the tree trunk. “You know,” he began, his tone measured, “for someone so brilliant, you’re spectacularly dense.”

Sebastian shot him a glare, but Ominis pressed on, undeterred.

“You sit here wallowing, convinced she’s out of your league, yet you’re the same Sebastian Sallow who's spent the better part of this year sneaking off with half the girls in the school. You're obviously not lacking in the looks department, Sebastian."

Sebastian stiffened at Ominis's remark, his jaw tightening as heat crept up the back of his neck. “That’s not the same,” he muttered, his voice defensive.

Ominis arched an unimpressed brow. "Oh, so you are aware that you can't fill the void with an endless string of meaningless flings?" he asked dryly.

Sebastian stiffened further. He hadn’t actually been sneaking off with anyone lately, not in weeks. The fleeting entanglements he’d indulged in earlier in the year had lost their appeal. Ever since Christmas—the time he’d spent with Evangeline at his cottage in Feldcroft—he’d found himself… disinterested.

But admitting that to Ominis was a different story.

“I haven’t—” Sebastian started, but Ominis sighed, tilting his head slightly as if the weight of Sebastian's dramatics physically exhausted him.

"Look. Point is, perhaps instead of sulking and pining, you could consider telling her? Might I remind you that while you sit here agonizing over what might happen, you’re letting other boys swoop in, charm her, and maybe even take the chance you’re too much of a coward to seize.”

Sebastian's glare narrowing on Ominis. “I’m not a coward.”

“Aren’t you?” Ominis asked, his tone challenging.

Sebastian’s fists clenched, his jaw tight as he glared at the lake. He hated how Ominis could see through him, how his friend always managed to cut straight to the heart of things. But he wasn't going to admit that.

Sebastian pushed himself to his feet in one fluid motion, his frustration bubbling over as he glared down at Ominis. “I don’t need this right now,” he muttered, brushing bits of grass from his robes with jerky movements.

Ominis tilted his head, his unseeing eyes fixed in Sebastian’s general direction, his expression exasperated. “Ah, yes, because walking away from your problems has worked so splendidly before. By all means, storm off, Sebastian. That’ll fix everything.”

Sebastian scowled, refusing to take the bait. He turned on his heel and marched away, his shoes crunching against the grass.

Ominis sighed, shaking his head as he leaned back against the tree. “Brilliantly handled,” he muttered to himself, “As always.”

Sebastian’s temper simmered as he strode across the grounds, his thoughts a tangled mess of frustration and longing. Ominis’s words echoed in his head, irritatingly logical, but he shoved them aside.

Then, as he rounded the corner of the Transfiguration Courtyard, the sight that greeted him stopped him dead in his tracks.

Leander Prewett stood under the shade of a flowering tree, his red hair catching the sunlight as he leaned casually against the trunk. Across from him, laughing at something he’d said, was Evangeline. She looked stunning, her cheeks flushed with amusement, her dark hair shining like a curtain of silk in the spring light. She’d tied it back in one of those effortless styles that made her look as though she’d stepped out of a painting, and her sleeves were rolled up just enough to showcase the elegant curve of her arms.

Sebastian’s stomach twisted.

Leander’s expression was all too familiar—his eyes were bright, his smile boyish and eager, and he leaned slightly forward as if trying to close the gap between them without being too obvious. It was a look Sebastian knew well because he’d seen it every time he caught his own reflection after spending even a moment with Evangeline.

Jealousy hit him like a depulso to the chest, sharp and unforgiving. He wanted to march over there, shove Leander away, and tell him to keep his hands—and his bloody hopeful smiles—to himself. But instead, Sebastian stayed rooted to the spot, his hands curling into fists as he watched the scene unfold.

Evangeline said something, and Leander laughed, the sound grating against Sebastian’s ears. The Gryffindor boy then stepped closer, just enough that the space between them seemed uncomfortably small. Sebastian’s jaw tightened, his nails digging into his palms as he resisted the overwhelming urge to intervene.

“Having fun?” Ominis’s voice drawled from behind him, startling Sebastian enough that he nearly jumped. He turned to see his friend strolling up, his wand lightly tapping against his palm as if he’d expected Sebastian to linger here like an idiot.

“Don’t start,” Sebastian warned, his voice low and clipped.

Ominis stopped beside him, tilting his head as if to listen to the scene ahead. “Ah,” he said after a moment, his lips twitching with amusement. “Leander Prewett, huh? That's new."

Sebastian glared at him. “She’s not—she’s not interested in him.”

Ominis raised a brow, clearly unimpressed. “And you’re so sure of that because…?”

Sebastian opened his mouth, but no words came out. Instead, he turned his attention back to the courtyard, where Leander had offered something to Evangeline—a folded note, by the looks of it. She took it with a smile, her fingers brushing against his as she accepted it, and Sebastian felt his control slipping.

“She’s not interested,” he repeated, though the words sounded more like a plea than a certainty.

Ominis sighed, shaking his head. “You really are hopeless, aren’t you?”

Sebastian ignored him, his focus solely on the pair beneath the tree. Evangeline glanced at the note, her expression softening, and Sebastian felt a pang of something that bordered dangerously close to despair. If he didn’t act soon, if he didn’t tell her how he felt, someone else—Leander bloody Prewett—would.

And he wasn’t sure he could live with that.

“You’re going to combust if you keep glaring like that,” Ominis said lightly, his voice cutting through Sebastian’s swirling thoughts. “Why don’t you just march over there and claim your territory? That seems like your style.”

Sebastian shot him a sharp look. “She’s not territory, Ominis.”

“Then why are you acting like she is?” Ominis quipped, tilting his head slightly.

Sebastian didn’t answer. His jaw worked, his teeth grinding together as he stared at the scene unfolding before him. Leander reached out, brushing an invisible speck off Evangeline’s sleeve, and Sebastian saw red.

Before he could stop himself, he took a step forward. Then another. His strides lengthened, and his frustration propelled him across the courtyard. He didn’t have a plan—didn’t care about one. He just needed to interrupt, needed to get between Leander and Evangeline before his jealousy consumed him entirely.

“Sterling,” he called, his voice loud and firm, cutting through their laughter like a severing charm.

Both Evangeline and Leander turned toward him, Evangeline’s expression shifting to mild surprise.

“Sebastian,” she greeted warmly, her tone carrying that easy familiarity that always managed to undo him.

Leander offered a forced smile, though the tension in his posture betrayed his annoyance. “Sallow,” he greeted, his tone polite but strained. His eyes flicked over Sebastian, sizing him up in that way boys did when silently measuring the competition.

Sebastian didn’t miss the shift, and he returned the look with one of his own, his shoulders squaring as he stepped closer to Evangeline. “Prewett,” he replied curtly, his voice carrying a pointed edge.

Before the situation could escalate further, Evangeline glanced over Sebastian’s shoulder, her expression brightening. She lifted a hand to wave, her attention shifting across the courtyard. “Ominis!” she called, her tone light and cheerful.

Sebastian turned just enough to see Ominis standing across teh courtyard, waving in return. Despite his usual impassive expression, there was a faint twitch at the corner of his lips—a sign, no doubt, of his amusement at the scene.

“Speaking of," Evangeline said, turning back to Leander with an apologetic smile, I should probably go. I promised Ominis I’d help him go over a rune translation he’s working on.”

Leander’s smile faltered, his disappointment poorly masked. “Oh,” he said, stepping back slightly. “Of course. Maybe we can talk later, then?”

Evangeline nodded graciously. “Sure, Leander. See you later.” She turned to Sebastian with an expectant look. “Shall we?”

Sebastian blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but he recovered quickly, nodding. “Yeah, let’s go,” he said, grateful for the excuse to extract her from Leander’s presence. He stepped aside, allowing her to walk ahead before following close behind.

As they crossed the courtyard, Sebastian’s mind raced. He couldn’t tell if he was more relieved or confused by her sudden decision to leave with him. He glanced sideways at her, noting the calm ease in her stride, as though nothing about the interaction with Leander had fazed her.

It wasn’t until they were halfway back to Ominis that she leaned in, her voice low enough that only Sebastian could hear. “I completely made that up. Merlin, he’s stifling."

Sebastian’s chest tightened at her words, and he barely managed to keep the smirk off his face. “Stifling?” he echoed, his tone carefully neutral despite the satisfaction curling in his chest.

Evangeline huffed softly, her expression one of mild exasperation. “He’s been following me around like a lost Kneazle all week,” she muttered, glancing over her shoulder as though making sure Leander wasn’t still watching. “And that note? Another invitation to study together. He doesn’t take a hint.”

Sebastian’s smirk threatened to break free, but he bit it back, feigning casual indifference. “I can’t imagine why he’d suddenly be so persistent,” he said lightly, though the heat of satisfaction burned bright in his chest because he knew exactly why. The change in weather, the lighter clothes Evangeline had started wearing—it was no wonder Leander had fallen under her spell. Who wouldn’t?

Evangeline sighed, shaking her head. “It’s just so sudden,” she lamented, her tone caught between annoyance and bewilderment. “We’ve always been such good friends, and now it’s like someone slipped him a love potion.”

Sebastian hummed in agreement, though he couldn’t resist asking, “And what’s wrong with studying together?”

Her expression turned incredulous. “Sebastian, you know that’s not what he’s after. He’s not subtle.”

He chuckled under his breath, finding her exasperation entirely too endearing. “Fair enough.”

As they finally fell in step with Ominis, Evangeline continued, her tone thoughtful now. “Leander’s great, really. He’s kind, and he’s smart—”

Sebastian’s stomach sank, but then she added, “But he’s not my type.”

His head whipped toward her so quickly he almost stumbled. “Not your type?” he echoed.

“He’s a good-looking bloke, but he’s just… not for me,” Evangeline continued you, “Too wiry, for one thing. I’d probably snap him in half if we ever—"

She cut herself off, as if suddenly realizing how far her thoughts had wandered, her cheeks flushing a delicate shade of pink. “Never mind,” she muttered quickly, waving a hand as though to dismiss the thought entirely. “You get the idea.”

Sebastian, however, almost tripped over his own feet, replaying her words in his mind. Snap him in half? His imagination, unhelpfully vivid, conjured images he had no business entertaining, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

Ominis chuckled, nudging Evangeline with his elbow, "You’re looking for someone sturdier.”

Evangeline’s blush deepened, "I mean... yes."

Sebastian was still recovering from the mental chaos her words had unleashed as Ominis continued to press, "Anything else I should keep an eye out for?"

Evangeline groaned, clearly regretting the turn the conversation had taken. “I’m not drafting a list,” she muttered, her hand flying to rub at her temple as if to soothe the embarrassment creeping up her neck.

Ominis tilted his head, the picture of calm amusement. “Oh, come now. Humor me. Sturdy and…?”

She waved a hand as if to shoo the question away, her blush now creeping toward her ears. “No, that’s it. Sturdy. End of discussion.”

But Ominis was relentless. “Come now, Evangeline,” he said, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “Surely there’s more to it. A specific height, perhaps? A particular charm? Or maybe…” He tilted his head, clearly relishing her discomfort. “A knack for getting under your skin?”

Sebastian’s grin widened, his earlier frustrations momentarily forgotten as he watched Evangeline squirm. He couldn’t resist joining in. “Ominis makes a good point,” he said, his tone feigning innocence. “What’s the rest of your checklist? It’s only fair to give us a complete picture.”

Evangeline shot them both a glare, though her pink cheeks made it decidedly less intimidating. “I’m not giving you a checklist," she said, her voice laced with exasperation. "What I'm looking for is none of your business.”

Sebastian leaned closer, his grin turning smug. “Oh, I think it’s very much my business.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she opened her mouth to retort, but Ominis cut in, his expression the picture of amusement. “Let me guess,” he said, holding up a hand as if deep in thought. “Sturdy, tall, brunette. Someone with a bit of a reckless streak... the type of man who can handle a bit of banter… ”

Sebastian froze, his smug grin slipping as Ominis’s words landed like a well-aimed hex. His heart thudded loudly in his chest, and for a split second, he was sure Evangeline would catch onto the fact that Ominis was describing him.

But instead, she groaned again, this time in sheer exasperation. “Ominis, I swear, one more word and I’m hexing you.”

“Point made,” Ominis said with a dramatic sigh, his smirk softening but still present. “I’ll behave.”

Sebastian let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, quickly plastering his grin back into place before Evangeline could notice the way his pulse raced. “You’re lucky she hasn’t hexed you already,” he said, nudging Ominis with his shoulder.

“Pure luck,” Ominis agreed, his tone light but his smirk decidedly knowing.

Evangeline, clearly over the entire conversation, picked up her pace, leaving the two boys to catch up. “Anyway. You would be of no help anyway," she told them matter-of-factly, "Half the girls in this school have laid claim on someone or another." She paused, glancing over her shoulder at them, "Take Poppy for example. Everyone knows she's head over heels for Leander. So his effort on me is completely wasted."

Sebastian faltered, his brows furrowing as he tried to process her words. “Poppy? Head over heels for Leander?” he repeated, his tone laced with disbelief. “Since when?”

Evangeline gave him an incredulous look, “Since forever. It's well known among the girls in our year."

Sebastian blinked, his confusion mounting. “And what, exactly, does that have to do with anything?”

Evangeline rolled her eyes, as though he were particularly slow to catch on. “The point is,” she said patiently, “there’s no point in either of you playing matchmaker for me. Half the boys in this school are already ‘spoken for’ in girl world.”

“Girl world?” Ominis repeated, his brow lifting in curiosity. “Is that some sort of secret society you’re all sworn into at birth?”

“Yes,” Evangeline deadpanned, though her lips twitched with amusement. “We meet every full moon to update the list. Didn’t you know?”

Ominis chuckled, clearly entertained. “And this list dictates who everyone fancies?”

Evangeline shrugged, her pace slowing so the boys could catch up. “It’s more about knowing who’s interested in whom, so we avoid stepping on anyone’s toes. Like Poppy and Leander—everyone knows she fancies him, so it would be... wrong of me to entertain his advances. Even if I wanted to.”

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. “You don’t, though,” he said quickly, his tone sharper than intended.

Evangeline glanced at him, her expression softening. “Of course I don’t,” she said easily, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I told you, he’s not my type.”

"So,” Ominis began, his tone casual but carrying that unmistakable edge of curiosity, “are the two of us spoken for in this mysterious girl world of yours?”

Sebastian stiffened beside him, his mind suddenly racing. It was a question he hadn’t dared to ask himself, let alone voice aloud. His eyes darted toward Evangeline, anticipation clawing at him as he waited for her response.

Evangeline’s laughter rang out, light and genuine, catching them both off guard. “You two?” she repeated, glancing between them with an amused smile. “Oh, absolutely.”

Sebastian blinked, his heart leaping into his throat. “Wait, what?” he managed, his voice a little too loud.

Evangeline grinned, clearly enjoying the rare moment of having the upper hand. “Both of you are very much spoken for," he gaze settled on Sebastian for a moment, expression unreadable "Surely you knew this, Sebastian. You've snogged half the girls in school."

Sebastian’s pulse quickened. He opened his mouth, then closed it as Ominis interjected, "So more than one girl can lay claim on a... potential suitor?"

Evangeline nodded, her grin mischievous as she continued, "Indeed. Though it creates quite the social labyrinth. For example, Ominis, you're practically worshipped by half the Ravenclaw girls for being so mysterious and intellectual."

Ominis scoffed, but Evangeline continued on, "They're always bickering about who liked you first, who has the best chance, whatever kind of upper hand they can get to convince the others they're the rightful heir to your affections,” she finished, her tone teasing but her grin warm. “It’s a whole thing.”

Ominis groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Please tell me you’re exaggerating.”

“Not in the slightest,” Evangeline said with a laugh, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “You’re a hot commodity, Ominis. The mysterious Slytherin with dry wit and impeccable posture. They can’t resist.”

“And me?” Sebastian pressed, his voice tight.

Ominis waved a hand dismissively. “You're the school’s walking heartbreak, Sebastian.”

Sebastian’s smirk faltered, his chest tightening at the jab. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Evangeline rolled her eyes, “It means you’ve left a trail of broken hearts so long, I’m surprised Nurse Blainey hasn’t declared it a medical crisis.”

“I don’t—” Sebastian started, but Evangeline cut him off with a wave of her hand.

“I've heard all about it. You make them feel special, and then you’re gone,” Evangeline explained, though Sebastian could hear the unmistakable edge in her tone. “Then they don’t know what to do with themselves. But since you’re such a menace, every girl who fancies themselves a ‘fixer’ thinks they can tame you.”

Ominis snorted. “That sounds about right.”

Sebastian opened his mouth to retort, but Evangeline was already moving ahead, her laughter trailing behind her on the spring breeze. Ominis, holding his wand aloft, followed, leaving Sebastian to stew in the growing knot of emotions twisting inside him.

By the time he reached the tree near the groundskeeper’s hut, Evangeline had settled herself on the grass, leaning back against the bark. Ominis joined her, his legs stretched out as he leaned his head back, the picture of unbothered calm. Sebastian, however, hesitated before sitting down, still caught between irritation and a strange sense of unease he couldn’t quite shake.

“Do they really say that about me?” he asked after a moment.

Evangeline looked up, her dark eyes catching the light as she tilted her head. “About being a walking heartbreak?” Evangeline’s lips curved into a teasing smile, but the faint strain behind it didn’t escape Sebastian’s notice. “Absolutely. And unfortunately, I'm caught in quite a bit of crossfire as a result."

Ominis, still lounging comfortably, tilted his head toward her. “Oh?"

Evangeline sighed, glancing at Ominis with a wry smile as she leaned her head back against the tree. “Oh, you know how it goes,” she said lightly, though her fingers fidgeted with the blade of grass, betraying the ease in her tone. “I’m the best friend who’s too close. To both of you, actually."

Sebastian frowned, his irritation sparking. “What’s that supposed to mean?

Evangeline chuckled, but the sound was tinged with bitterness. “It means that half the girls in this castle think I’m hogging the two most eligible bachelors at Hogwarts for myself. Apparently, being your friend comes with a side of jealousy and spite.”

Ominis raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “Well, that explains the occasional chill from Samantha Dale.”

“Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin—even Gryffindor,” Evangeline muttered, her voice dropping. “You wouldn’t believe the looks I get sometimes."

Sebastian, sensing the shift in Evangeline’s tone, decided it was time to redirect the conversation. His mind spun for a moment before he smirked. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, the drama in ‘boy world’ is just as ridiculous.”

Evangeline perked up slightly, her curiosity piqued. “Oh? Do tell.”

Sebastian leaned back on his hands, his smirk widening. “Take Everett Clopton, for example. Did you know he’s been trying to challenge Arthur Plummly to a duel every week over a single remark about his hair?”

Evangeline’s brows shot up, her expression shifting from weariness to amusement. “His hair?” she echoed, incredulous.

“Oh, yes,” Sebastian said, his smirk growing. “Arthur made some offhand comment about how Everett’s hair looks like a nest for Bowtruckles. Apparently, Clopton claims Arthur’s ruining his reputation with the Ravenclaw girls.”

Ominis, lounging comfortably beside them, tilted his head, his lips twitching with amusement. “Isn’t Everett the one who dyed his hair green during the Christmas holidays two years ago?”

Sebastian nodded solemnly, earning a a genuine, melodious laugh from Evangeline.

Sebastian chuckled, his grin widening as he continued. “Clopton even tried to bribe Lucan to stage a duel in the Crossed Wands arena so he could prove himself.”

Ominis sighed, shaking his head. “How noble. Did it work?”

Sebastian shook his head, feigning disappointment. “Lucan turned him down. Said he wouldn’t sully the reputation of Crossed Wands for vanity’s sake.”

The banter continued, light and easy, until the sun began to dip lower toward the horizon, casting the grounds in a warm glow. The light filtered through the leaves above them, dappling their faces as they laughed and teased. For awhile, it felt as though the world outside their little bubble didn’t exist.

But all good things come to an end.

Sebastian sighed heavily, a reluctant sound that betrayed his desire to linger just a little longer. With a groan, he pushed himself to his feet, brushing stray blades of grass from his robes and stretching his arms above his head. “Well, much as I’d love to sit here and entertain you both all night, duty calls,” he muttered, his tone edged with mock despair.

“Ah, detention,” Ominis quipped, his expression unimpressed as he tilted his head in Sebastian’s direction. “Your home away from home.”

Sebastian shot him a glare, though the corners of his lips twitched upward. With a final wave, he turned and began the walk back toward the castle, the fading sunlight casting his shadow long across the grass.

~

The Great Hall was buzzing with the familiar hum of students as Sebastian made his way toward the Slytherin table, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. He found his usual spot near the middle, across from Imelda and Nerida, who were already deep in conversation.

“Evening, ladies,” Sebastian greeted, sliding onto the bench with his trademark smirk.

Imelda arched a brow at him, unimpressed. “You’re late.”

Sebastian sighed as he dropped into the seat across from her, grabbing a roll from the platter in front of him. "Sharp had some extra cauldrons he wanted me to scrub."

Imelda snorted, barely glancing up from her plate as she stabbed a fork into her salad. “Honestly, you’d think he’d know better than to trust you with something like that.”

Sebastian chuckled, playing along with her jab, but his focus was elsewhere. As Imelda prattled on about the latest Quidditch strategy, his mind kept drifting back to the conversation he’d had with Evangeline earlier.

Her teasing words about “girl world” and the mysterious rules governing relationships had been gnawing at him ever since. And as he chewed thoughtfully, her remark about boys being “spoken for” kept resurfacing. He couldn’t shake the sense that there was more to it, more than he understood.

After a few moments of internal deliberation, Sebastian cleared his throat, drawing the attention of both girls across the table. “Hey... I wanted to ask you two something.”

Imelda looked up from her plate, raising an eyebrow as she picked up her goblet. “What now? What did you break this time?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, “No, nothing like that. This is about... well, something else.”

Nerida, sensing the shift in tone, set her fork down, her eyes narrowing in interest. “Alright then spill.”

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably, glancing around to ensure no one was listening too closely. He had to phrase this carefully. “Earlier, Evie and I were talking... and she mentioned something about how... how the girls have this... system.”

Imelda’s eyes flicked over to him, clearly intrigued. “System?”

“Yeah, like—some of the us are... well, off-limits... because we're spoken for,” he muttered, a touch of awkwardness creeping into his voice.

Imelda chuckled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Ah, so Evangeline let you in on the secret, huh?”

Sebastian nodded as Nerida raised a brow, exchanging a quick glance with Imelda. “So what exactly is it you want to know?”

Sebastian leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as he tried to get a handle on his curiosity. “I just... Is it really like that?”

Imelda’s lips curled into a half-smirk as she settled back into her seat, clearly entertained by his genuine confusion. “Well... yeah. There’s a certain understanding between the girls. It’s just how things are done."

Sebastian absorbed their words, his brow furrowing in thought. “So... like a... code?”

Imelda nodded, her smirk softening slightly as she leaned forward. "Exactly. A sort of... unspoken rulebook, if you will. If a girl likes a guy or has shown interest, it's common courtesy to back off if you're aware of it. No one likes a situation where things get messy or awkward."

Nerida joined in, shrugging lightly. “It’s all about respect. You don't want to make things difficult for the other girls, especially if they’ve already made it clear who they fancy.”

Sebastian nodded slowly but the whole thing felt like a tangled web of rules that made no sense to him but somehow governed everything. It was a subtle game of cat-and-mouse between the girls, and the boys were stuck in the middle, either blissfully unaware or forced to play along.

"Um," Sebastian began cautiously, trying to keep his tone neutral. "So, you two would know about... which guy all the girls in our year fancy?"

Imelda and Nerida exchanged a glance, a brief, silent communication passing between them before Imelda’s lips curved into a smirk. “Of course we know,” she said with a nonchalant shrug, clearly entertained by the question.

Sebastian swallowed hard, "So you'd know who Evie has her eye on then."

Imelda’s smirk widened, her sharp eyes glittering with mischief as she leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table. “Oh, I see where this is going.”

Nerida bit her lip to stifle a smile, her gaze flicking between Imelda and Sebastian. “Evie doesn’t talk about her love life very openly. She’s... private that way.”

Imelda snorted, her smirk turning sly. “But,” she added, drawing out the word, “the two of us are, indeed, aware of her... interests.”

Sebastian resisted the urge to squirm, leaning back slightly and forcing a casual shrug. “Oh?” he asked, his voice carefully even. “And what might those interests be?”

Imelda leaned closer, her smirk positively wicked now. “Why so interested, Sallow? You’ve got half the school pining after you already."

Sebastian glared at her, though his ears burned at the implication. "She's my best friend, Reyes. It would be good to know if she's got her heart set on anyone."

Imelda’s smirk deepened, and she rested her chin in her hand, clearly reveling in his discomfort. “Your best friend, eh?” she drawled, her tone dripping with faux innocence. “You just want to be prepared, in case you need to protect her delicate heart?”

Sebastian’s glare sharpened. “Yes,” he snapped, though the warmth creeping up his neck betrayed him. “That’s exactly it. Someone’s got to look out for her.”

Nerida tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “You know, he might actually mean that,” she said to Imelda, her lips twitching with amusement. “It’s almost sweet, if you ignore the fact that he looks ready to murder someone.”

“I do not,” Sebastian muttered, crossing his arms. “I just... don’t want her wasting her time on some idiot who doesn’t deserve her.”

Imelda chuckled, sitting back in her seat and crossing her arms. “You’re so transparent, it’s almost painful, Sallow.”

“Are you two going to answer the question or not?" Sebastian practically growled.

Nerida sighed, "Look, Sebastian. We wouldn't be very good friends if we just spilled all Evie's secrets to you, now would we? If she wanted you to know, she’d tell you herself.”

Imelda leaned forward, her smirk sharp enough to cut. “Unless, of course, you’re too chicken to ask her directly. Which wouldn’t surprise me.”

Sebastian’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists on the table. “I’m not scared to ask her,” he snapped, though the faint pink creeping up his neck told a different story.

“Oh, sure,” Imelda said with a laugh, rolling her eyes. “Because you’re just dying to hear her say she’s madly in love with someone else, right?”

For a moment, Sebastian's carefully constructed mask of indifference cracked. He hesitated, his throat tightening as he forced himself to reply. “If that’s the case, then at least I’d know.”

Nerida’s expression softened, and she exchanged a glance with Imelda, who sighed dramatically before fixing Sebastian with the most sympathetic gaze she could muster, "Fine, you want an answer? I’ll give you one.”

Sebastian’s heart jumped into his throat, but he kept his face carefully neutral. “Go on, then.”

"Evie's obviously got a type," Imelda said breezily, taking a sip from her goblet as though the turn in conversation wasn’t setting Sebastian’s nerves ablaze. “Take Clearwater as an example. There were obviously things about him that drew her in..."

Nerida hummed in agreement, clearly picking up on whatever thread Imelda was pulling. “Tall, strong, handsome... quite the star Quidditch player." She paused, letting the words sink in before she continued, "In the end though, he was too polished for her. Not to mention all those pure-blood expectations..."

“Exactly,” Imelda said, snapping her fingers as though Nerida had just perfectly encapsulated her point. “Evie likes a bit of unpredictability. Someone who’s not afraid to bend the rules, get a little messy. Clearwater was just… too perfect, you know?"

Sebastian’s mind was racing, every word they said sending his thoughts spiraling further out of control as he tried to piece together the meaning behind their hints.

“Too perfect,” he repeated, his voice quieter this time. “She doesn’t want someone polished. But what does that even mean?”

Nerida chuckled softly, clearly amused by his confusion. “It means someone with a bit of personality, Sallow. Someone who can keep up with her.”

“Someone who can match her intensity,” Imelda added, leaning forward with a wicked grin. “And let’s be honest, there aren’t many blokes around here who can do that." She laughed, “Not that they aren't trying... have you noticed the absolute parade of boys trying to impress her lately?"

"I've certainly noticed," Sebastian muttered darkly. "Half the male population thinks they have a shot with her.”

“They don’t,” Imelda said simply, her tone dripping with finality. “None of them do. It’s pathetic. And hilarious. None of them stand a chance. Honestly, it’s like watching Kneazles chase their tails.”

Sebastian frowned, his frustration simmering just below the surface. “And how are you so sure none of them stand a chance?”

The two girls finally stood up from the table, their meals long finished. Nerida shot Sebastian an exasperated glance while Imelda simply sighed, her smirk sharp as ever.

"You’re hopeless, Sallow," Imelda said, adjusting her bag over her shoulder. “Absolutely hopeless. It’s staring you right in the face, and you’re still too thick to see it.”

Sebastian scowled, the heat rising in his neck. “What’s staring me in the face?”

Nerida laughed softly, stepping around the table as Imelda straightened up. “We’ve told you everything we can, Sebastian. The rest is up to you.”

With that, they turned and left the Great Hall, their laughter trailing behind them as they disappeared into the crowd. Meanwhile, Sebastian raked a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting.

Against his will, his gaze drifted across the Great Hall, searching for her. And there she was, seated at the Gryffindor table, a soft smile lighting her features as she chatted with Natty, who was laughing at something she'd said.

Sebastian frowned, rubbing the back of his neck as he tore his eyes away. What’s staring me in the face? Imelda’s words echoed mockingly in his head. For all their smugness, Nerida and Imelda had told him absolutely nothing useful. If anything, their cryptic hints had only left him more confused, the knot in his stomach tightening with every passing second.

Sebastian had spent forever learning Evangeline's quirks and mannerisms, memorizing every small detail about her without even meaning to. He knew how she liked her tea (too much sugar), how she tied her hair when she was in a rush (that haphazard twist that always left a strand loose), and how her voice softened when she was genuinely worried about someone. He knew her better than anyone.

So why couldn't he figure this out? Why did it feel like he was missing something?

With a frustrated sigh, Sebastian pushed himself to his feet. His mind was a storm of half-formed thoughts and questions he couldn’t answer, and the only solution he could think of was to retreat to the dorm and drown himself in distraction until he could sleep.

The trek to the Slytherin common room felt longer than usual, his boots echoing faintly against the stone floors as he descended into the dungeons. The usual dim, greenish light of the common room was welcoming in its familiarity, and he waved off Imelda and Nerida, who were lounging by the fire, clearly waiting to tease him some more.

When he finally reached the sanctuary of his dormitory, Sebastian kicked off his shoes and dropped onto his bed, the thick curtains providing a blessed barrier between him and the rest of the world. He leaned over to the small chest beneath his nightstand, opening it carefully. Beneath a stack of notes and a few dog-eared Defense Against the Dark Arts texts lay his guilty secret.

The book was heavier than he remembered, its ornate, gold-embossed title glaring up at him like a judgment: Intimacies and Affections: A Guide to Healthy Romances.

Sebastian frowned at the cover as though it had personally insulted him. He still wasn’t sure what had possessed him to buy the damn thing. He’d stumbled across it in a tucked-away section of Tomes and Scrolls a few weeks ago and had been reminded of Evangeline.

Sebastian huffed, shaking his head at himself as he opened the cover. He wanted to know what Evie had been reading all term. What provocative advice this book had to offer that had kept her blushing every time he brought it up.

Sebastian flipped through the pages, the parchment soft beneath his fingers. The book had seemed harmless at first, if not slightly absurd—a guide for navigating the mysterious intricacies of romance. What a joke. As if he needed advice. He wasn’t some bumbling first year with a crush on the Charms professor. He was Sebastian Sallow, Slytherin’s most incorrigible flirt, the object of countless affections himself.

Not that he particularly wanted to be anymore.

He skimmed a section titled “Understanding What Your Partner Wants (Even If They Don’t Say It)” and couldn’t help but snort. “What my partner wants,” he muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “How about what my best friend wants?”

Still, he read on. Against his better judgment, the words began to take root, poking at the insecure corners of his mind.

"A deep and lasting connection stems not only from admiration but from vulnerability. The willingness to be honest, even when it feels impossible, is the cornerstone of trust."

Sebastian’s brow furrowed, and he slammed the book shut with a groan, tossing it onto the bed beside him. Vulnerability. Honesty. It all sounded so simple on paper, but the thought of baring himself like that to Evangeline? It was enough to make his skin crawl with dread.

The truth was, he wasn’t sure he had the courage. She was Evie, after all—the girl who laughed at his stupid jokes, who had risked her life to stand beside him in the darkest moments, who always saw something good in him when he struggled to see it himself.

Sebastian flopped back with a heavy sigh, staring up at the canopy. The soft green glow of the common room seeped through the gaps in his curtains, casting shifting shadows across the fabric. He ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts an endless loop of frustration and longing.

Maybe Imelda and Nerida were right. Maybe he was hopeless.

And yet, as he lay there, his mind racing and his heart pounding, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for the book again. Because for all his bravado, all his sharp wit and confidence, Sebastian Sallow was utterly and completely lost. So with a resigned sigh, he flipped the cover back open and began to read, letting himself hope—just a little—that he might find the answers he so desperately needed.

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

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[abandonedpie]

This is Remiel, one of my ACNH OCs!

Some info about him:

Birthday: January 27; Age: early to mid-thirties

Aquarius, Enneagram Type 5

He/him, cisgender, bisexual (inside an open closet; he doesn't really care if people know, but he hasn't felt the need to tell anyone yet)

Holds a passion for home design. Has an...unconventional design sense?

Said passion for design is rivaled only by his passion for gyroids. Brewster's got nothing on Remiel's collection. He loves them like they're his own children. No you don't understand, at the time of typing this, he has exactly 100 displayed in his house and 190 in his storage. And his collection grows. Always. Nothing can stop it except the physical limitations imposed by house/storage space

Enjoys music; favorite genres include classical and jazz. Plays piano (since childhood) and saxophone (started learning in his twenties). Favorite K.K. Slider songs: K.K. Sonata, K.K. Jazz and K.K. Moody

He also likes fine art, fancy/expensive furniture and clothes, and material things in general. Grew up in a rich household, but was not particularly spoiled

Poor social skills. Blunt to the point of rudeness. He's the type who will walk away from someone he doesn't want to talk to, not even bothering to come up with an excuse or pretend he didn't notice them. Despite his general honesty, he struggles to open up about his deeper feelings. Secretly wants a friend and/or partner, but has more or less given up on connecting with anyone

It's okay, he has his gyroids for company. They're more fun to hang out with anyway: great listeners, expressive, and funny to boot! He loves dancing with them.

Aside from gyroids, he also prefers animals over most people (and I don't mean Animal Crossing villagers. They're more people than animal. Still preferable to humans though). Especially fond of birds (and birdsong). Might like to keep a bird as a pet, but worries that the gyroids perpetually accompanying music in every room of his house might bother it

Intensely uncomfortable with silence. Could you tell

Unrelated fun fact: he lives beside the island's graveyard

Cannot cook (see image #3). Usually buys takeout or premade food (may still burn it if it requires heating up), sometimes eats out. Wants to learn to cook edible meals but has never been able to get the hang of it. Believes he might be cursed

He has a gym set up in his house for regular workouts and yoga. Needs music (and the support of his gyroids) or won't do it

While he isn't one for interacting with fellow adults, he is better with children. The older he gets, the more he wishes to have kids of his own. He has considered adoption multiple times, but in the end, he faces too many doubts about his ability to be a good father.

I welcome questions and comments about Remiel! Not only will it give me the chance to talk more about him, but it might help me develop him more as a character :)

More OCs to be introduced soon, maybe?

[laika-the-moon-pup]

Tiny vulture

[laika-the-moon-pup]

They're singing together! Karaoke