#Scribner scribbles with

[ask-scribner]

The 5-year with fluffy hair crawls under the desks in the library, tying together other students' shoelaces and giggling to herself quietly. When she gets to the desk you are standing by, Asani hesitates. Regular shoes, huh... Well, how about...

A quick spell later, your footwear transforms into these:

Oh, a little mischief under the desk, is it? My, my, bold choice, my dear. If you wanted to hear me squeak and grunt, you only needed to ask.

I must admit, it's been some time since I've worn anything so flashy. However, Gryffindor shall lose 20 points for such... audacious creativity. Let's hope next time you direct that spirited energy toward something a bit more appropriate.

[ask-scribner]

If you're that curious, perhaps I might make an exception and allow you a glimpse into my private collection, Mr. Sallow. Perhaps you'll find those missing volumes among them.

But be warned, dear, there are texts there that would make even the boldest blush and are best experienced under close guidance—and I do so enjoy a captivated audience.

Dear Sebastianus, Volume 7? Pray tell, what happened to the other 6?

Curiously, they went missing long ago. I have suspicions they may have wound up in the private collection of a certain librarian with a fetish for...rare texts.

[undergaunts]

A Long Time Coming

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary: aka three times Sebastian is a flirt, one time he gets called out on it, and one time he finally does something about it.

Rating: Teen & up (very light suggestive moment but nothing extreme)

Word count: 5.4k

Read on AO3 or below the cut <3

I.

The Library is almost silent - unusually quiet for a Wednesday afternoon. Only the subtle sound of a ticking clock, and the occasional turn of a page breaks through the quiet. Somewhere amongst the bookshelves, Madam Scribner is ensuring the books are in the correct places, and a couple of first years had run off, upstairs undoubtedly, in an attempt to find a book that doesn’t exist, tricked by second years into believing it does.

In the centre of the room, seated at a wooden bench, heads buried in their homework, were the Slytherin trio, who these days seemed to never leave each others sides.

She’s focused on writing what seems to be a remarkably boring essay for Potions, hair tucked behind her ears as she scribbles away, quill rough against the parchment, cursive writing adorning the tanned sheet.

Ominis is tracing the shapes of words in his book with his finger, frowning every so often when he comes across something so ridiculous that he wonders if throwing it across the room would help him understand it more.

And Sebastian is - well, Sebastian has decidedly given up, doodling various patterns into the margins of his Herbology book. Only when his quill runs out of ink does he groan, rather too loudly, dropping his head onto the page in frustration.

“I’m bored,” he informs his friends, and Ominis immediately shushes him. “Sorry, but this is so boring!”

“I don’t care if you are bored,” Ominis almost hisses, his milky eyes searching in Sebastian’s direction, finger never once leaving the page of his book. “We are busy. I’m sure there’s something for you to do elsewhere.”

Sebastian has been used to Ominis’, what he would call ‘soft rage’ for a long time (he often gets angry at varying things, but he’d never do anything physical about it), but he still flinches a little, lifting his head from the book, before turning his focus to the girl next to him.

She’s still writing, evidently not as bothered by Sebastian as Ominis is. He watches her for a minute or so, marvelling at how quickly she glides the quill across the paper, brows furrowed in concentration.

“I can feel your eyes burning a hole into my skin, Sebastian,” she whispers, momentarily glancing at him, before continuing to write.

He smiles, still watching, as she finally comes to the end of the page, and, thankfully, the end of her essay.

She places the quill down, quickly scanning over the parchment for any mistakes, before pushing it to the side to dry. She lets out a long, deep breath, stretching her neck from side to side, and flexes her hands, shaking out the stress and the aches from the day.

She’s got small hands, Sebastian thinks, even Anne’s hands are bigger than hers.

“My hands aren’t small,” she frowns at him - Ominis shoots them an angered look - and Sebastian realises his thoughts were not contained in his head, but actually said out loud. He’d blame it on his tiredness from studying, but he hadn’t really been studying. He was just an idiot.

“Well,” he straightens his back, coughing a little in an attempt to cover up for the light blush covering his freckled cheeks. “I just mean…no, you do have small hands.”

She scoffs. “They’re not small. They can’t be that much smaller than yours or Ominis’.”

“Ominis’ hands are freakishly large,” Sebastian retorts. It is not entirely true - Ominis’ fingers are long and slender, making them seem a lot bigger than they are, but they’re not freakish. Just a tad strange.

Ominis rolls his eyes, then uses one of those hands to cover an ear so he can continue to read.

“Then they are not much smaller than yours.”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, then a hand, palm pointing towards her. “Look. My hands are big,” he says, proudly. “Compare yours to mine.”

She lifts her hand, pressing her palm against his in a quick motion, fingers splaying to rest against his. He can feel the pink on his cheeks spreading further and deepening in colour, so he coughs again.

“Oh,” she laughs. It’s rather obvious - the size difference. Sebastian’s hands are bigger. Not hugely - not in a weird way like Ominis’! - but definitely. He could cover her hand with his, easily. Her fingers could interlock with his, rather comfortably.

“I told you, did I not?” Sebastian smiles. He’s glad he was right, and takes joy in proving her wrong - possibly for the first time.

“You did,” she sighs, dropping her hand from his. “You are correct, Sebastian Sallow. For once.”

He’s grinning, oh so proud, and she laughs at him, shaking her head. “Let me just,” he says, grabbing her wrist and pressing her hand against his again, confirming what they already knew. He’d never deny he was a gloater. “You see this, Ominis?”

Across the table, Ominis is glaring, fires almost burning through the white snow of his eyes.

“No, of course I don’t see.” Ominis responds, and this time, the entirety of Sebastian’s face turns bright red.

II.

Sebastian has been watching the door all evening. First, it was the Undercroft gate, then the Slytherin common room door, and now the Great Hall. None of the doors had opened, to reveal the girl he was waiting to see.

Damned doors, and their constant closure.

She’d been gone all day, from the very moment the sun had started to rise, til now, as it was setting. She was undoubtedly doing some good deed for someone she’d never met before, in a hamlet she’d never been to casting spells she’d hardly practised.

Curse her, and her kindness.

Sebastian had had the brilliant idea to save her a portion of the roast dinner they’d been served, but it was getting cold now, and he was getting increasingly worried as the minutes went by. Had she been eaten by an Acromantula? Kidnapped by poachers? Mauled by a pack of dark mongrels?

“I can feel your worry from over here,” Ominis says. He’s sitting across from Sebastian, putting his last pieces of potato into his mouth. “It’s souring my supper.”

“Sorry,” Sebastian responds. He’s not really sorry, but he prefers to sate Ominis’ frustration. “She’s been gone since this morning. She’s usually not gone for more than a few hours at a time.”

“But she is often gone for a long time,” Ominis places his knife and fork, parallel in the centre of his plate, before picking his napkin up to wipe his mouth. “She is the hero of Hogwarts, after all. And a rather busy hero at that.”

Almost as if to cut them off, the dirty plates and empty trays of food suddenly disappear, and then reappear, replaced by dishes of apple pie, sticky toffee pudding and custard. Most of the students hurriedly scramble for their dessert - it’s always the most popular part of the meal.

Sebastian quickly reaches for a portion of the sticky toffee pudding, which is snatched away by Imelda with a sneer. He shoots her daggers, before quickly grabbing another portion, this time successfully. He tries to grab another - to set it aside for his friend when she finally gets back - but it is taken by a third year, before he could even start to reach.

With a wave of his wand, Ominis manages to grab himself a portion of pie, before every plate of dessert has been spoken for.

Sebastian huffs, realising she now only has a cold plate of roast dinner to come back to.

If she ever does.

He returns to the previous conversation, a frown on his face.

“No, she…she should’ve been back by now, she should be-“

It is, at that moment, ironically, that the large doors to the Great Hall open, and she walks through them, perfectly alive. A little windswept, to be sure, a slight rip at the bottom of her skirt, and a tiny cut on her lower lip. But alive.

Sebastian stands up. She spots him in the crowd of people, and immediately smiles, running over to squeeze herself into the spot on the bench next to him.

He can feel his heart go from aching, to relief, to almost beating out of his chest within seconds.

“What a day!” She laughs, sighing as she sits down, Sebastian soon following her. There’s a small smile pulling at Ominis’ lips, and Sebastian allows himself to smile too.

“Sebastian was rather worried about you,” Ominis says, and in that moment, Sebastian wonders, if he leapt across the table, would his hands accurately find Ominis’ neck so he could choke him?

“Only Sebastian?” She asks, and Ominis, this time, smiles a little wider, a slight glint of white teeth showing past his lips

“I was worried too, I am not afraid to admit. But he wouldn’t stop worrying aloud,” Ominis brings a spoon of his pie to his mouth. “It was rather irritating.”

“Oh,” she laughs, side-eyeing Sebastian, who blushes (annoyingly, he’s been blushing far too much lately). He nudges her, in a ‘please-redirect-your-attention-away-from-my-red-face’ kind of way, pointing her to the dinner he’d saved her.

“It’s a bit cold but…”

“Oh marvellous!” She grins, pulling the plate toward her and grabbing a fork, which she stabs into a piece of carrot. “I’ve not eaten all day!”

In the least weird way he can possibly muster (which is still extremely weird, he must admit), he watches her eat, enjoying that she is enjoying her food, glad she is safe and sound. He sighs, softly, allowing himself to relax before taking his spoon and slowly starting to eat his dessert.

Once she finishes her food (which doesn’t take her all that long to eat, clearly hungry from an exhausting day, she takes a long drink of the glass of lemonade that had poured itself for her, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

She takes a moment to breathe, pushing a piece of hair out of her face. Sebastian sees her look around a little, at the other students still picking away at their puddings.

“I did try to save you a portion,” Sebastian says, and she looks at him, shaking her head.

“It’s alright. I was very late. And some people,” she glares across the room at Leander, who has two plates of desserts in front of him, alternating bites between the two. “Always take too much.”

But he can see it in her face. She’s a little disappointed. It’s only a silly thing; a dessert, for Merlin’s sake, but he feels guilty.

So he drops his spoon, and slides the rest of his pudding to her. “Here. Have mine.”

She rolls her eyes at him, and pushes it back. “Honestly, you’ve done enough, Sebastian. I could’ve not eaten at all.”

He pushes it back to her. “Please.”

Again, she slides it. “No.”

“I’m not arguing,” Sebastian again pushes the bowl, and holds it there, picking the spoon up and offering it to her. “Just have it. It’ll make me happy.”

“Sebastian-“

“Merlin’s beard,” Ominis mutters. “Just eat the damned pudding, would you? Or I think he might explode.”

She laughs. Sebastian laughs. Ominis glares. Just the way it should be.

Thank the Gods she’s fine.

III.

The weekend Sebastian had spent in Feldcroft was lovely. Perfect, even. Spending time with Anne was rare these days, so to be with her, uninterrupted for forty-eight straight hours was joyous. He really did miss her.

Yet, returning to Hogwarts didn’t make him feel sad. He actually felt excited, for the first time in a long time, to get back. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why, but he just knew, as he entered the school grounds, that the butterflies in his stomach weren’t just for his return to Transfiguration class.

As he walked the school, he realised he’d missed supper, it seemed, from the hordes of students gathered throughout the corridors near the Great Hall.

Sebastian desperately tried to find a familiar face (or at least one he wanted to see - Leander and Gareth were easily seen with their red heads, but he didn’t fancy talking to Idiot One or Idiot Two).

It took a little while of searching, before he found a group gathered in a more secluded area. He noted Natsai, Poppy, Amit, Ominis, and her.

Sebastian grinned. He hadn’t noticed the smile creeping onto his face at all really. He simply let his feet do the walking, striding over to his friends, and without warning, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her into a bear hug from behind.

“Oh!” She jumped, but laughed almost immediately, as if she knew it was him just from his touch.

Surely not.

“Hi,” Sebastian smiles, pulling her close to him, resting his chin in the dip of her shoulder, and looking at the group in front of him. “Hi guys.”

For a moment, they all look stunned. Weird, Sebastian thinks, perhaps they didn’t expect me back so soon

“Hello Sebastian,” Natty is the first to speak, breaking what was starting to feel like an awkward silence. “We had just been speaking about you.”

“Oh?” Sebastian raises an eyebrow, glancing between each persons face, all looking a different level of uncomfortable

“We were just discussing how we think you should-“ Poppy starts to say.

“We,” she chimes in, her hands tugging at Sebastian’s arm, pulling him off of her. He’d be offended, but she quickly redirects him, pulling his arm around her shoulders, and tucking him into her side. He feels her arm wrap around his waist, and decides this is possibly better. “We’re thinking you should spend more weekends in Feldcroft.”

“Ah, dying to get rid of me?”

“Always,” she smiles. Sebastian has a hard time tearing his eyes away, wondering how she often looks like she’s glowing. Like sun is emanating from her very soul. It’s addictive.

“We should probably return to our common rooms and rest for a bright and early start in the morning!” Amit chimes in, and Natty and Poppy nod, agreeing.

“Alright,” Sebastian shrugs. He notices Natty tilt her head a little, and before he knows it, his arm is being pushed away, and his side is left cold and empty.

“We’re just trying to work out a charm,” she says, stepping over to Natty. “I’ll see you two in the common room a little later?” She gestures to Sebastian and Ominis.

“Of course,” Ominis finally speaks up. The group disperses, and Sebastian finds himself having to jog to catch up to Ominis, who seems like a man on a mission to get to bed.

“Wait!” Sebastian finds himself laughing as he finally catches up to his best friend. Ominis huffs, which causes Sebastian to reach out, grabbing his arm and stopping him mid stride. “Is something wrong?”

“With me? Oh, no. But I do believe something is wrong with you, Sebastian,” Ominis shakes his head. His brows are furrowed, almost angry, yet he seems more frustrated than anything. “It is almost aggravating. I cannot understand how you are yet to see the issue at hand.”

He’s speaking in riddles, Sebastian is sure of it. The blond was always one to be mysterious, but this is taking it to whole other level.

Sebastian doesn’t respond, which, in itself, is clearly a response enough for Ominis, who turns on his heel, and with a small flick of his wand, is on his way, leaving Sebastian standing in the hallway to ponder whatever in Merlin’s name is going on

IV.

“Sebastian!”

His head whips around, trying to see who or what called his name, but there’s a few too many people outside the Bell Tower to actually see. He stands on the tips of his toes, before he finally sees the culprit - Poppy, who is heading towards him, determination on her face and…a Slytherin scarf in hand?

He frowns - his scarf is definitely back in the dorm, and it’s rare for Ominis to wear his anyway, so…

“Could you-“ Poppy starts.

“Is that-“ Sebastian questions.

“She left it in Beasts class earlier,” Poppy confirms. She’s come to a stop in front of Sebastian, and hands him the scarf, which he takes, gladly. “Could you return it to her? I’m afraid she’ll get cold without it.”

“No problem,” Sebastian nods, and Poppy smiles. She thanks him quickly, before scurrying off. Poppy was weird, always had been, really, but Sebastian guessed they were friends by association, so tried not to judge too much.

He’s left, standing there, holding a scarf. Her scarf. It’s strange, but for a moment he doesn’t know what to do. It’s like his legs won’t move, too focused on this object in his left hand.

He can’t quite understand why.

But luckily he shakes it off, and starts to head for the Slytherin common room. Poppy was right, she might get cold without her scarf. She’s got more, yes, but…well, she probably preferred this one. It’s certainly keeping his hand warm, so it probably good at keeping her warm, and…

It feels like he’s been walking for hours. He’s got a death grip on the scarf, like he couldn’t it bear the thought of dropping it. Losing it. Damaging it. He could buy her a new one if he did. But it wouldn’t be the same, would it? It wouldn’t be hers, it wouldn’t have her name written in ink on the inside, it wouldn’t smell like her…

Before he even knows it, he’s standing in his dorm room, back pressed against the door, keeping it closed. The room is empty, thank the Gods, because he’s still holding the scarf. He can see his, dangling over the end of his bed, and it might seem weird if he had two.

His breathlessness and warm face and open mouth might also be weird.

He steps away from the door, certain it’s closed, then moved toward his bed, where he sits down at the edge, eyes desperately trying to avoid the scarf, but he just can’t do it. He wets his lips, nervous, double, triple checking the room, ensuring no one is there once again.

And, finally, he lifts the scarf to his nose, and inhales deeply.

It smells just like her. Of course it does, it’s hers, but it’s unmistakably so. The scent of lavender and honey, probably from the soap she uses. A little of mallowsweet, and fresh air. It’s intoxicating, and he can’t bring himself to put it down. Even if he suffocates in the wool, it would be a wonderful way to die.

There’s a feeling, that starts in his stomach, that he’s trying so hard to ignore, but it’s getting lower and lower, and his head is spinning. He inhales again, and his eyes roll back a little. His breath hitches in his throat, and he can’t stop himself, he moves his right hand, over the side of his thigh, straight towards-

“What are you doing?”

Sebastian’s head whips round to the door, where Ominis is standing, deadly still, wand in hand, staring straight at him. Surely not? He surely can’t see, can he? No, what a ridiculous notion. He can’t see what Sebastian is doing.

Hopefully he can’t see what Sebastian is doing.

He realises he’s said nothing for an awfully long time, and stutters over his words as he tries to get a coherent sentence out.

“I-I, uh, was just,” he glances around himself, trying to find another object - anything but the scarf - to use as a distraction. His eyes settle on a spell book, he’d left next to his bed. He drops the scarf onto the bed next to him, and quickly reaches for the book. “I w-was reading! Homework, you know.”

“No,” Ominis flicks his wand, ever so slightly, the tip glowing read, as he steps over to Sebastian. “I heard you. You were…smelling something. In a very…odd fashion.”

“N-no,” Sebastian counters. “I…wasn’t.”

Great, that’ll show him!

Ominis scoffs. “What were you-“ he waves his wand again, and the scarf suddenly levitates, floating through the air and landing in Ominis’ hand. Damn him, and his stupidly intelligent wand. “Is this-“

“Ominis-“

“It’s her scarf. Was this what you were smelling? It must be.”

Sebastian shuts his mouth. The two of them are quiet for a moment. Ominis just standing there, and Sebastian sitting, feeling increasingly guilty.

“Don’t tell her.”

Ominis frowns a little. “Tell her what?”

“That I was…doing that.”

“I will not tell her,” Ominis says. Sebastian feels relief for a moment, but then Ominis speaks again. “You will.”

“What?” Sebastian squeaks. His voice has never been that high-pitched before. He’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t in this situation.

“Are you a fool, Sebastian Sallow?” This time, Sebastian is the one to frown. That wasn’t what he was expecting Ominis to say. Admittedly, he was expecting some extortion, maybe a promise of some kind, but not an insult. “You must be the only wizard alive unaware of your feelings for her.”

He’s suddenly taken aback. He tries to form words, but quickly gives up. His mind is racing, trying to comprehend what Ominis had just said to him.

Because, Merlin’s beard, was he right?

Surely not. She was his best friend. They had fun, broke rules together. They spent hours at Hogsmeade together. They studied together. They visited Anne together. They…they did everything together. Because he couldn’t bear not doing things together.

And of the times she wasn’t there, he just thought about her, wishing she was there. He hadn’t had a class with her since that morning, and all day he’d thought about getting back to the common room and seeing her.

Then there was the butterflies he got when he saw her. How beautiful he thought she was. How he’d often find an excuse to touch her. How he’d look for her in crowds. How he just never stopped thinking about her, because…

Because he had feelings for her.

“Merlin,” Sebastian mutters, the realisation hitting him like a tonne of bricks. It’s all he can say, because how had he not seen it sooner? It was glaringly obvious, and if Ominis was correct, was he the only one who hadn’t realised?

“It’s taken you far too long to realise,” Ominis sits down on the bed, a few inches from Sebastian, placing the scarf in between them. “We’ve been talking about this for weeks.”

“You’ve been talking about me?”

“We’ve been talking about how painfully clear your feelings are, and how idiotic that you have not said or done anything about it sooner.”

“Who is ‘we’?”

Ominis pauses, contemplating whether he should say or not. But everything is out in the open, so why not?

“The usual suspects. Myself, Poppy, Amit, Natsai,” Sebastian nods, and starts to speak, but Ominis continues. “Gareth, Leander, Imelda, I believe Everett knows as well. Possibly some others.”

“Gods,” Sebastian sighs. He’s half tempted to laugh, but he’s still too shocked. “Does she know?”

Ominis blinks. He squeezes his lips together in thought, and then nods his head. “She took some convincing - couldn’t quite believe you’d ever feel that way for her, and I’m still half-convinced she isn’t entirely sure.”

“And does she-“

“She has feelings for you too. Of course she does. Don’t continue to be foolish, Sebastian. Would she let you carry on the way you do, if she didn’t? I certainly wouldn’t.”

Sebastian laughs - a sudden, chesty laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all, which in turn makes Ominis laugh - a rare sight.

“Am I truly that oblivious?” Sebastian asks through his laughter. “I mean, I’ve never felt like this before, so I just assumed it would be clear when I liked someone.”

“Not everything is clear,” Ominis reassures him, then, “But you are simply an idiot.”

The two of them laugh again. Sebastian looks at the scarf next to him, before sighing loudly.

“I’m going to have to tell her, aren’t I?”

There’s a gentle touch on his shoulder. Ominis nods (he’s not one for touching others, but he clearly feels Sebastian needs reassuring). “And sooner rather than later, hm? We’re all dying to see the two of you together.”

V.

He’s been avoiding her, like she was the Black Death, and he curses himself for doing so. He’d managed to return her scarf (thankfully, because he was certain he’d do something he’d regret if he didn’t), but for the rest of the week that was it. He’d eaten early, returned to his dorm early, pretended to be engrossed in conversations during classes and very busy after them.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her. Quite the opposite, in fact, but he was still trying to wrap his head around the whole thing, and come up with a beautiful string of words that would explain how madly in love with her he was, and why exactly she should be with him.

And it was proving to be a lot more difficult than expected.

Ominis, may the Gods bless him, had agreed to keep their conversation a secret - at least for the time being. Sebastian was sure that the others had noticed that something was up, though, as they seemed much more concerned about him than they usually did. But he didn’t allow himself to be perceived by them for too long. He would dodge conversation, and keep to himself. Every waking moment seemed to be consumed by thinking of how exactly he would confess.

Ominis had said she felt the same, but was he sure? He’d said he was sure, yes, but was he truly sure? Sebastian was not sure, about any of it. He also wasn’t sure that sure was a real word anymore

The following Friday, he’d been invited to Hogsmeade for Butterbeers, but made a big fuss of how much homework he had to do. It was true, he did have a lot of homework, but his mind was not on that now.

Instead, taking advantage of a mostly empty common room, as most students had headed out for the evening, he sat himself in front of the fireplace, legs stretched outward, arms crossed against his chest. It would be the perfect opportunity to just think. Staring into the fire, he hoped an answer would appear. And he stared, for a long time, trying to decipher something in the flames.

“Sebastian?”

He almost jumps out of his skin, scrambling a little to sit up straighter. Because there she is, standing beside him, a gentle smile on her face.

“Hi,” he looks up at her. She looks extra pretty this evening, he thinks. Hair pulled back with just a few pieces framing her face, a gorgeous, flowing teal dress framing her figure perfectly. “I thought everyone was heading to Hogsmeade?”

“We were,” she says. She sounds sad, as she sits down on the armchair next to him. “But then Ominis said you weren’t coming, so I came back.”

There’s a flutter in his stomach, and a little voice in his head, that says see, she does like you.

But he can’t let her spoil her fun, and most definitely not for him

“Go,” he tilts his head towards the stairs. “I’m sure you can catch up with them. I’m quite alright on my own.”

He watches her glance over to the stairs, and ponder for a moment, before she shakes her head. “You’ve hardly spoken to anyone all week. I’d rather know you’re well and not moping about alone.”

“Not moping,” he chuckles. “Just…been thinking.”

She studies him for a second, then places her elbow on the arm of the chair, and rests her chin in her hand. “A knut for your thoughts?”

Sebastian turns his attention back to the fire. It eats away at the logs, just like his thoughts had been eating away at him. Ominis’ words ring in his ears: She has feelings for you too. Of course she does.

He tries to form some words. But they still evade him. Still run from his tongue and his mind, teasing him with the very possibility of being with her, yet being unable to, due to the annoying fact that he just cannot speak.

Her voice is almost a whisper, but he can see the way her face crumples a little. “Have I done something to upset you?”

“Hey, no,” he says. “I’ve just been…in my own head, that’s all. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

She nods, but looks like she doesn’t quite believe him. She joins him in looking at the fire, and they sit in silence for a few moments.

He steals a glance at her, and she looks like she wants to speak, but she’s holding back. Their silences are not often awkward, but there’s a tension in the air, and he wants to cure it, somehow.

It’s only when he decides he must say something, that she clears her throat, and stands up from her chair.

“I’ll let you get back to your thoughts,” she smiles ever-so-slightly at him. It’s half-hearted and almost makes him wince. “Good night, Sebastian.”

He’ll see her in the morning. She’ll go to bed, as will he, and he’ll see her over breakfast, or catch her in the hallway.

He’ll see her, so why do his feet carry him, following her, as if he won’t?

“Wait,” he says, only a step behind her. They’ve stopped in the middle of the common room, looking each other, her body in an awkward half-turn, from where she’d been leaving. “I think I should probably tell you my thoughts.”

She frowns. “You should?”

“Yes,” he confirms. “It’s been plaguing me all week. And I’ve been putting it off but-“ a deep breath. “I should probably get it off my chest.”

She looks beautiful in the shimmering moonlight and rippling waves of the common room. He traces her with his eyes, taking her in. If he hadn’t been certain about how he felt up, he most definitely was now.

But he had been certain. It had just taken a while for him to see it.

“Look, I,” he starts, eyes dropping to the floor. This time, without realising, he lets his heart do the talking. He doesn’t hope his brain will find the words, instead he lets all of his heart and soul spill from his mouth. “I haven’t told you the truth. Mostly because I didn’t know the truth, until quite recently, and it seems everyone but I knew. But now that I do know, and I’m entirely sure it is the truth…”

She’s frowning. So is he, a little. He’s not really making sense, so he tries again.

“All my life, I assumed love - I mean, having feelings for someone - would be obvious, glaring, and heart wrenching. I never realised it could be subtle, or slow, or easy. I also was never sure I’d actually find it. I thought I’d be waiting my whole life, if ever, to find it. It’s why I didn’t realise, for a long time, until now, that…I have feelings,” he pauses, then clarifies. “For you, I mean.”

She looks shocked. Her eyes wide, mouth open, trying to search him for some kind of proof he’s just jesting. Just toying with her emotions.

But he’s not. He’s not one to cry, but his eyes well a little. He wants to step forward, to envelop her into a hug, to hold her in his arms, finally, in the way he’s always wanted.

“Are you,” she eventually speaks. “Are you quite serious?”

He can’t help but laugh. Her brows knit together, concerned at his joking manner.

“More than serious,” he confirms. “Deadly.”

She gasps, very softly. It is her that steps forward, closing the large gap between them. Only a few inches apart. So close he could reach for her, if he wanted.

So he does.

He reaches for her hand - which are just the right size for his, as he’d previously confirmed - and brings it closer to him, squeezing it gently.

“Sebastian,” her bottom lip quivers. “I also,” she pauses, to find her words. “Feel…feelings. For you.”

Their eyes lock. He doesn’t think he’s seen eyes as pretty as hers. Merlin, he doesn’t think he’s seen anyone as pretty as her. And here she is, standing in front of him, hand in his and heart open, ready for him to take care of it.

It’s almost silent, aside from the crackle of the fire and the patter of their hearts.

Sebastian does not think he can take this longing for one more second, so does what he has always wanted to.

He kisses her, and in that moment, finds all he has ever wanted.

[sloanesallow]

a little less sixteen candles

Something I wrote for Sloane's birthday (April 28th, 1875). I didn't anticipate it being so bittersweet, but that's what happens when your MC's birthday coincides with the end-game events.... (art by puri.dew) SWF | 2.6k words [read on Ao3] | [read on wattpad] | [tumblr masterpost]

It's spring—late April, to be exact. Flowers bloom all over the Scottish Highlands, and students take advantage of the warmer weather to spend their afternoons and evenings outdoors. Most travel to Hogsmeade and the surrounding hamlets, some take to the Quidditch pitch, and others lounge in the courtyards to daydream and watch the clouds pass by.

Instead of enjoying the beauty of nature or spending quality time with his friends, Sebastian is holed up in the Undercroft, scribbling notes on a blackboard with the last nub of chalk. On the table nearby, several textbooks and dusty tombs are spread open, their margins littered with more of his scrawl. He dusts his fingers off, smearing white across his pant leg before grabbing a quill to hunch over the latest pilfering from the Restricted Section.

Curses, Curses, and Even More Curses

It is an encyclopedia of sorts, one Sebastian found tucked away in some dark corner of the library's basement, being used to prop up a wobbly cabinet. The book smells like it has been fermenting in the lake and is icy cold to the touch, but the few pages that remain legible offer more information than he's been able to gleam in recent months. Despite having Salazar Slytherin's spellbook, it has taken considerable effort and time to translate, and even then the ancient writings refer to artifacts and magic Sebastian is just barely starting to comprehend.

He is reading a particularly interesting passage about blood sacrifices when he realizes he is no longer alone. Ominis stands on the other side of the table, eyebrows bunched together and lips pursed in an everlasting state of dissatisfaction. When the bloody hell did he sneak in?

"I won't bother with asking what it is you are doing, as I have no interest in arguing with you this evening."

"Lucky me," Sebastian quips back. Their friendship has been strained ever since Anne's curse, the relationship gradually turning into something far more toxic. But the fear of losing one of his best and only friends is overshadowed by the deep dread that consumes Sebastian every day—he will not let Anne die.

He attempts to refocus his attention to the yellowed pages of the old tome. "It must be a special occasion, if you're letting me off so easily."

"Now that you mention it," Ominis replies, sardonically.

When he doesn't elaborate, Sebastian glances up and finds himself curious for a new reason. His friend is dressed up, or rather, dressed down, in a neat but casual ensemble that is so uncharacteristic it might as well be a prank. Since when did Ominis walk around in anything less than his school uniform?

"Today is a special occasion," Ominis finally clarifies, though his tone makes it obvious he is teasing Sebastian for the gap in knowledge.

"Uh..."

What day is it? He wonders, furrowing his brow in thought. Tuesday? What important event occurs on a Tuesday other than...potions? No, he attended class that morning, even if he cannot recall the details of Professor Sharp's lecture. Crossed Wands? That isn't until Friday. All Sebastian really remembers from the last twelve hours is bartering with the kitchen-elves for leftovers after missing dinner, again. That, and being shooed away from the library by Madam Scribner, again.

The prolonged silence causes Ominis to scoff, more irritated than before. "Seriously, Sebastian?" he snaps, shaking his head. "Do you really not remember? Ugh, why am I even surprised? I only came down here to confirm for myself that you truly are lost."

"I am not—"

"Shut up," Ominis cuts him off with a pointed look that is a tad more menacing than usual. "After all she did to remind us—you—" he sighs, temper simmering. "Siobhan did well to hide her disappointment, but even I could tell by the sound of her voice she was upset by your absence."

"Sloane?" Sebastian blinks several times as the realization dawns on him. Tuesday. The twenty-eighth day of April.

Today is Sloane's birthday.

He drops the book and threads his hands through his hair in exasperation, cursing under his breath, "shit."

"It is remarkable, really, the patience that girl has," Ominis remarks, ignoring the way Sebastian starts to frantically pace. "More than I posses, at least. I do not know the details, nor do I wish to, but it is a small miracle she considers you a friend, for all you have put her through."

Sebastian pauses to glare at his friend, almost daring him to repeat the snide comment. What the hell does he know? But, for what seems like the millionth time in five years, Ominis is right. In his pursuit for a cure, he is slowly alienating the people he cares about. Sloane is a recent addition to his inner circle, though sometimes it feels as if she's been there all along. His feelings for the Hufflepuff are...complicated, to put it mildly. Sebastian knows he likes her, perhaps more than he's ever liked a member of the opposite sex. However, inexperience and denial leave him unwilling to call it love.

He lets out a pitiful groan, palms pressed hard against his eyes.

"I can't believe I forgot!" The memory of Sloane inviting them to a small celebration in Hogsmeade crashes into view, adding to his shame. He's been so wrapped up in research and schoolwork that it slipped his mind. "Merlin's beard—I'm an arse!"

"Yes," Ominis flatly agrees, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Good thing wallowing in self-pity solves everything."

Sebastian frowns, his gut twisting with regret, frustrated by his own preoccupation. The spread of journals and scribbled notes seem to taunt him, his head and heart torn between obligation and desire. He returns to pacing, murmuring incoherently as his brain tries to prioritize what the first step should be. Bathe? No time. He unceremoniously sniffs under his arm and winces—a cleaning charm will have to suffice.

"Is she still in Hogsmeade?" he asks, allowing some hope to flourish when Ominis nods. "Do you think...she'll forgive me?"

"She shouldn't," Ominis says, sighing again. He shakes his head, almost as if he is humored by Sebastian's enthusiasm. "But she will."

Sebastian allows himself thirty minutes to get to the Three Broomsticks. It's still early, but Sloane and her friends have already been celebrating in Hogsmeade for most of the afternoon. Better late than never, right? After fixing his appearance as best he can in the nearest washroom, he rushes to the kitchens and haggles with the kitchen-elves for the second time that day, this time for pastries so he doesn't show up completely empty handed. He will need to procure a proper gift when his mind isn't so rattled.

By the time Sebastian exits the great hall, the sun is just setting beyond the horizon. It's warm, and as he speed-walks across the viaduct courtyard, sweat forms on his brow and neck and elsewhere he does not want to think about. Knowing his luck, he'll be a perspiring, smelly mess by the time he makes it to Hogsmeade. How attractive, he mumbles to himself, checking over his clothing again to make sure he's properly buttoned and tucked and—

"Sebastian?"

He freezes mid-step, snapping his gaze up to find Sloane and two of her Hufflepuff roommates—Poppy Sweeting and Lenora Everleigh—standing at the top of the stone steps. Sebastian opens his mouth to speak, but his short-circuiting brain won't allow a coherent sentence to form.

Eventually, he squeaks, "me."

Poppy and Lenora giggle while Sloane's lips curl into a sympathetic smile. All Sebastian can focus on is the pale pink of her dress and the way the curve of her neck and collarbone are exposed, making it that much more difficult to speak. Her cropped hair has a slight curl to the ends, and...is that rouge on her cheeks? He's never seen her look so...

"Wow," he breathes, perfectly aware of how lopsided his grin must look. Sebastian straightens up a little, clutching the small, wrapped box of baked goods in his hands. He lets out a shaky laugh. "I was...just coming to find you, actually."

"You were?" Sloane's eyes widen in surprise—is his presence that startling? He tries not to frown at the gut-wrenching realization that she didn't expect him to show up at all. When her friends don't budge to give them any privacy, he reaches up to tug at the knot of his tie, the suffocating feeling lingering as they stare down at him. Sebastian feels like he might faint, or retch, or both.

"Sloane, I—"

"Oh, this'll be rich," Lenora mutters, rolling her eyes. The dark-haired Hufflepuff is consistently disapproving of his relationship with Sloane, though he can't imagine why. Or maybe he can.

Poppy hushes her and the three return to holding similar, expectant expressions. Sebastian clears his throat.

"I—I'm an absolute git for forgetting your birthday," he starts, hoping he sounds as earnest as he feels. Multiple excuses tickle the tip of his tongue but he knows better in that moment than to offer any. This is his fault, his burden to bear. "I'm so sorry, sorrier than you can imagine."

"That's what he said last time, isn't it?" Lenora mumbles.

If Sebastian isn't trying so desperately to look forlorn, he would glare at her. Now's not the time for a reminder of how he's unintentionally, or perhaps intentionally hurt Sloane. For all the mistakes he's made, she has forgiven him time and time again, and everyone in their circle has noticed. Regardless of how much he wants it, maybe he is undeserving of her grace. Maybe the best gift he can give is to cut himself out of her life for good—one less burden for her to worry about in an already chaotic first—fifth—year.

His heart sinks to the pit of his stomach and his hopeful smile falls into a dejected pout. Before Sebastian can fully spiral into another pity-party of one, he flicks his gaze back to Sloane and decides that surrender simply isn't in his nature.

"Can we talk?" he softly asks. He'll beg if he has to, even at the risk of making an even bigger arse of himself in front of Sloane and her friends. "Please?"

Even though Lenora and Poppy are hesitant to let Sloane go, she waves away their worried whispers and nods. "Okay."

While her friends reluctantly head back towards the castle, Sebastian and Sloane find their way to the boathouse, the long walk accented by their echoing footsteps and sideways glances. More than once he thinks about reaching out to hold her hand but refrains, not wanting to further muddle their already shaky friendship. Sloane surprises him when they reach the pier, balancing herself against the wall so she can discard her heeled loafers and stockings. She perches herself on the dock's edge, bare feet just barely grazing the dark lake waters. Sebastian follows suit, tugging off his boots and socks before sitting down next to her, making sure there's a comfortable distance between them.

Before he can find the courage, Sloane breaks the more than awkward silence, "what do you want to talk about?"

It's an innocent enough question, one that puts control of the conversation in his hands. Sebastian could easily take the cowardly route and skip past an apology, force some laughter and pretend nothing is wrong. Instead, he digs deep and swallows his pride.

"I really am sorry, Sloane," he starts, finding it nearly impossible to look at her directly when it feels like his heart might burst out from his chest. All the regret he's been carrying rises to the surface. "I've had so many chances to make things right between us and I've mucked them up over and over again that I honestly can't fathom why you give me any of your time at all."

"You are..." he trails off in hesitation, remembering that a little bit of vulnerability can go a long way. "You are one of the better aspects of my life. One of the kindest, if not the kindest person I know. And...while we haven't been friends for very long, I'm bloody well terrified of losing you over my own stupidity."

Sloane flashes him a curious look. "Losing me?"

"You know what I mean," he quickly replies, even if he is still figuring it out himself. Or maybe he is too scared to admit the truth. The last thing he wants to do is push his luck when it has already run dry. They are friends—it is selfish to hope for more. The uncomfortable tightness in his throat returns. "Am I...too late?"

For a moment that feels like eternity to a fragile boy like him, Sloane doesn't respond, her gaze focused on the water and the reflection of the moon. Her pensive expression is impossible to read, but he takes it as a good sign that she hasn't run off or shoved him into the lake for the squid to drown. She sighs and slowly turns her head to look at him again.

"You're here now is what matters," she says, lips twitching up into the faintest smile. Sebastian should feel relieved, but the guilt lingers. Perhaps in an effort to change the subject, Sloane gestures to the small box, partially crumpled by his anxious fidgeting. "Is that...?"

"Oh! Right," he hesitantly hands it over, watching as Sloane lifts the lid to reveal several squished lemon tarts. He rubs the back of his neck as he lets out a self-deprecating laugh in an attempt to save face. "They're meant to look like that. It's an after-hours kitchen specialty, I'm told."

Sloane's smile widens slightly as she plucks one from the box, generously handing it to him before taking one for herself. Emboldened, Sebastian quickly conjures a small candle to press into her share and carefully ignites the wick.

"I already made a wish," she explains.

Sebastian isn't discouraged. "Well, now you can make a second one. Happy birthday, Sloane."

He continues to watch her as she momentarily ponders, the flickering flame reflected in her eyes before she softly extinguishes it with a soft breath.

"What did you wish for?"

"The first or second time?" Sloane responds, somewhat cheekily.

Sebastian doesn't push her to offer a real answer and instead allows for a comfortable silence to settle between them as they nibble at the lemony treats. The lake water gently splashes at their hanging feet and for the first time in recent memory, he feels calm. It might be temporary, but he allows himself to sink into the feeling, smiling as Sloane offers him a second tart.

"Sebastian?"

"Hmm?"

He turns his head just in time, barely registering what is happening as Sloane moves closer with her head tilted just so. Her lips meet his and Sebastian is stunned, taking several rapid heartbeats to react, fluttering his eyes shut as he leans into the kiss. If he knew that her lips would be this soft and warm, he would've kissed her ages ago. As greedy as he is to taste more, he allows the kiss to remain chaste, inching his hand across the short distance to cover hers.

Sloane eventually pulls away and when he peeks open his eyes she is smiling, cheeks dusted with a blush he yearns to brighten. Sebastian is still too flabbergasted to utter a response, nervously laughing when she reaches up to brush away a crumb from his cheek. He catches her hand before she can pull away, squeezing her fingers in his own. The momentary calm of his heart explodes into a burning inferno he struggles to contain. This time, he is sure he knows the answer, but still asks.

"Your wish?"

"It already came true."

[ask-scribner]

A mandrake is placed grumpily on the corner of the desk in the library, precariously close to a stack of overdue books. Its eyes fixate on the mistletoe hanging delicately above the entrance.

"Oh, isn't that bloody charming. Mistletoe. Romantic. Festive. Cliché as hell. Everyone's giggling and blushing under it, but do you think anyone comes over here to kiss me? No, they just shuffle past like I'm part of the bloody furniture. I'm right here! Am I not irresistible enough for a peck on the cheek?"

What do you do?

Oh, you poor, neglected little thing. If you're so desperate for attention, perhaps I could oblige with a kiss. Though you'd have to ask very sweetly.

And if you truly insist, I might even consider going down to tend to those tiny roots of yours with a gentle massage. But only if you beg properly - I do like to hear a bit of gratitude when I'm being generous.

[ask-scribner]

Perhaps a good stroke is what the cuke needs.

If you won't rub the cucumber, would you at least give it a good pat? It tried it's best today.

Just like you, my sweet Anon! 😌💚

[blueraineshadows]

Secrets of the Night Part 2

Sebastian Sallow x Ominis Gaunt

Angst, pining, sexual attraction, slightly non consent touching. NSFW 🔞 Part One

Hogwarts 5th Year

The faint scent of fire and smoke lingered in the air of the Undercroft, and Sebastian felt a smile of satisfaction tug at his lips. It had felt pleasing to teach the new 5th year Confringo. She had picked it up rather well, and Sebastian continued to be impressed by her tenacity and quick mind. She had left him in a good mood, uplifted by her own success at learning the spell, and she had been eager to meet with him and learn more. It gave him a sense of accomplishment and stroked against his ego and pride. It felt good to spend time with a kindred spirit.

At first, he had been reluctant to get too close to her. His mind was taken up with finding ways to help Anne and his twin would always be his top priority, but he had to admit, his new charge was winning him over.

Professor Weasley had nudged him towards assisting the new student, and it had got him out of trouble with Old Scribner, so he had taken her under his wing despite the unwanted distraction of it all. But then Sebastian had found himself intrigued by the secrets this new girl was holding about her sensational arrival and apparent talent for troll slaying. Curiosity had him picking carefully for more information, and she had divulged a little, enough to keep him interested at least.

This girl possessed the ability to wield ancient magic, something he had come across in his many hours reading up on anything that might help with Anne's curse. It was rare, and Sebastian had never imagined that he would ever come across such a thing, and yet here was someone being practically shoved right under his nose. This made the new 5th year even more appealing. If he helped her settle and learn, she could help him save Anne. It was a win-win.

To earn her trust, he had brought her down to the Undercroft. It was a risky thing to do because this was Ominis' place. Sebastian had chewed his lip at betraying the promise he had made to his best friend about keeping the Undercroft a secret. It was all in a good cause, though. Surely, Ominis would understand that. He wanted Anne back at Hogwarts as much as Sebastian did. Maybe he should have spoken to Ominis first about letting her in, like he had done with Anne before. However, Sebastian suspected that Ominis would say no, and he didn't want to risk it. Sebastian needed her, and so he had gone ahead and brought her down into the secret dungeon.

Sebastian pushed his hands through his hair and sighed. Ominis. His best friend. Guilt pulled deep and sharp in his belly. How many times had he averted his curious eyes when Ominis changed his clothes? The temptation to stare and drink in the pale skin, the lean muscle, and teasing glimpses of body hair was strong. It was driving Sebastian mad, and he was reduced to huddling himself in dark privacy to tug himself to a swift release, the image of pale skin and soft pink lips behind his eyes.

It was his guilty secret, his private pleasure that he tried to push down and forget about. His arousing thoughts over his best friend had meant that he wasn't there to protect Anne, and that guilt ate at Sebastian. It gnawed on his conscience like a rabid beast. Yet he still couldn't seem to stop his mind from dwelling on the allure of Ominis. It would always rise up at unexpected moments, and he had started to avoid being around Ominis as much, hiding in the library or, lately, spending more and more time with the intriguing new 5th year.

As the smoke of their fire spell casting dissipated in the cool dungeon of the Undercroft, Sebastian moved towards the chalk boards where scribbled notes were covering every available space. There was something to this ancient magic. He just knew it, but she kept stalling and making excuses. If not this powerful ancient magic, then perhaps something a little less sanctioned would be in order to help Anne. Whatever it took.

The grate of the entrance gate sounded again, and he turned, thinking that perhaps the new 5th year had forgotten something, but it was Ominis who entered, and he looked furious.

"Sebastian!" He called. He lifted his wand, red tip blinking, his features drawn and cold. "I know you are in here. Where are you?"

Sebastian frowned and moved closer, wondering what he had done this time. "I'm here. What is it?"

Ominis swung around in his direction, mouth tightening in rage. Ominis was a composed and impeccably well-spoken boy. Even in his rage, there was a haughty dignity to his aura. His voice was soft, yet it made one shiver with a modicum of fear.

"How dare you bring that girl down here!" He scolded. "This place is our secret. How could you even think of revealing something like this to her? We barely know her!"

Sebastian flinched and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. It had been literally hours since she had stepped foot in here, and Ominis already knew. "How did you know?"

Ominis twisted his lips with exasperation. "I just caught her slinking out of here as I was coming in," he said coldly. "I sent her off with a flea in her ear. What were you thinking?"

Sebastian winced, his earlier satisfaction over his little lesson going well fading, and the guilt swirled back in to torment him. He needed to smooth this over. He needed the new 5th year on his side, which meant getting Ominis on board with her, too.

"She will keep the secret, Ominis. I trust her," he said.

Ominis' face darkened further. "You trust her? She has only been here five minutes, and in that time, she has got herself into all sorts of capers," he seethed. "She lied to my face just now, insisting that she merely stumbled upon this place by accident. She is a liar! You told her about it, didn't you?"

A mix of emotions flooded through Sebastian. He was guilty, of course. He had shown her the Undercroft in an attempt to impress her and win her over to his cause. It was a betrayal of Ominis trust, though, and he did feel bad about that. On the other hand, he was feeling a rush of delight that she had kept her word about trying to keep it a secret. She had remained loyal to Sebastian, and this pleased him a great deal.

"I did show her. I apologise, Ominis," he said carefully. "At least she tried to be loyal and keep the secret. Besides, she is proving to be an excellent witch, I merely wanted to offer her a safe space to practise her magic. I think you will like her, Ominis."

"Do not make such assumptions, Sebastian," Ominis said coldly. "I barely know the girl, and I am uncomfortable about her being in our space. You already spend so much time with her, I can only assume that your betrayal is an attempt to impress her. I have heard she is a pretty thing to look at. Perhaps you are thinking with your pants rather than your head."

Sebastian felt his face flush with heat and he scowled. "Don't be ridiculous," he said.

His eyes travelled over Ominis, the flush of his fury putting a pink stain on his pale cheeks. Sebastian's gaze lingered on those plush lips, and he swallowed hard. He tore his gaze away and pictured the 5th year in his mind. She, too, had a pretty mouth, and she always smelled so nice whenever he was near her. Perhaps she would be a useful distraction from his strange obsession with Ominis, as well as being a helping hand. The suggestion that he had brought her down here for more intimate reasons made his heart pound. Is that what she had thought, too? It hadn't even crossed his mind, but now that it had, he wondered if it would be worth considering it. If not for his own amusement, then to see how Ominis would react to such a thing.

He cleared his throat and looked sideways at Ominis, unable to stop from poking at his already miffed emotions. "So what if she is a pretty thing?" He said quietly. "Is it so bad to want to spend time with her? Have you ever wanted to do that with someone? Anne, perhaps?"

Ominis winced, and his blush deepened. He looked flustered to the point of flapping, and Sebastian turned to face him fully, his eyes narrowing at his obvious discomfort. "I...I...of course not," he stammered.

"So, you do like Anne," Sebastian pushed.

Cold, slippery envy coiled in his guts. He clenched his fists and resisted the urge to grab Ominis by his shoulders. His eyes were fixed on those perfect lips as they parted and closed in discomfort, the urge to lean down and bite the lower plump one, making saliva gather in his mouth. He swallowed and stepped closer.

"No, no, not like that," Ominis whimpered. "Anne is dear to me, very dear, but as a sister would be. I don't...I mean..."

Sebastian was right in front of Ominis now, the boy's scent filling him, and Sebastian felt an ache building in his loins. Seeing Ominis so flustered and whimpering was doing things to him, things that made him want to squirm uncomfortably at the hot, tight feel of it. Would Ominis look like that in the throes of his own desire? What would it take to make him shudder and moan? Sebastian tried to stop the tumble of little fantasies rushing through his mind, but they came unbidden to tempt and torture him.

Ominis stilled, his wand lifting a little as he sensed Sebastian's closeness. Sebastian watched as Ominis' throat worked, his pale eyes widening. Did he feel it, too? Did he feel this hot, strange pull that stretched between them? Sebastian's heart pounded at the idea. What if it wasn't one-sided? What if Ominis felt the same? What would that mean for them and their friendship?

Ominis' face tightened, and he stepped back. "I suppose it's a little late to do anything about the new 5th year now," he said bitterly. "She knows. Short of Obliviating her, I suppose we have to now live with it. She had better keep her mouth shut, and don't you dare let me walk in here and catch you fornicating with her. I shall personally see to it that she is out of this school before she can even think of the word Undercroft if she steps one toe out of line."

Sebastian stiffened, his body losing its heat immediately at the icy tone in Ominis' voice at those last words. He could not lose such a useful and powerful witch that could aid him in a cure for Anne. That was the priority. He took a step back away from Ominis and rubbed his hand against his face.

"Of course," he said. "I will keep an eye on her. We can trust her, I promise you."

....*....

The fretful whimpers of a nightmare came from Ominis' bed. Sebastian rolled over and looked across at the closed curtains, his eyes dry and tired after hours of reading. His body ached after fighting a nasty rabble of goblins with the new 5th year the previous day. Despite the savage joy he took from punishing the evil little things for their crimes, the drain of the fights on top of the hours of research were starting to take their toll on Sebastian.

Despite his exhaustion, he slid from his bed and crawled through the curtain to find Ominis sweating and twitching in his sleep. His pale eyes were open, but that was not unusual, and Sebastian ignored their blank stare as he settled down beside Ominis.

He lay there, pressing his warmth against his friend until he began to calm, much like he had as a younger child. It had been a while since he had done this, but he felt bad for betraying the trust placed in him with the Undercroft. Ominis had said no more, but he had been extra snippy and distant with Sebastian, despite the new 5th year's efforts to appease him. Sebastian could not abide his distress, and of course, he would help him, no matter how cross Ominis was with him.

Ominis shifted, his head rolling towards Sebastian, and his hand brushed against Sebastian's thigh through his pyjamas. Sebastian stiffened at the touch, awareness flooding through him, and he glanced down. Ominis' pyjamas were twisted up, a slither of midriff was visible, the trail of hair disappearing into his bottoms inviting. Sebastian's fingers twitched, and he licked his lips, eyes flicking up to Ominis' face.

His features were calm with only a slight crease on his brow, his eyes were almost closed, just mere slits of glittering orbs visible, and his mouth was relaxed and slightly parted. Sebastian studied Ominis' face and marvelled at his beauty. The Gaunt's were a dark lot, their deeds dangerous and horrifying, but they were very beautiful to look at, it seemed. His breaths were slower and more even signalling sleep, which meant that Sebastian was free to indulge in his secret admiration.

Sebastian looked back down at that tease of exposed flesh, and his hand slid towards it, the tips of his fingers reaching out for a mere test of how soft it would feel to touch there. He pressed against the skin near Ominis' hip bone, the skin indeed warm and as alluring as silk, and then he dragged his fingers slowly across the flat plane of his belly, through the tempting trail of hair that grazed achingly against Sebastian's finger tips.

Ominis moved, the barest twitch, the muscles of his stomach contracting at the gentle touch. Sebastian pulled his hand back, closing his eyes as he savoured that forbidden caress and drew in a long, slow breath. Ominis remained asleep, and Sebastian wondered if he would get away with doing it again. He looked down at where he had touched, aching with the need for a taste, longing to drag his tongue over the same expanse of flesh. His own pyjama bottoms were tented up, his arousal solid and tight under the stretched cotton.

What was he doing? This was so risky, and another betrayal on his part was caressing his friend while he was asleep. It made what he wanted feel dirty and something to be ashamed of. Sebastian grit his teeth and sat up, getting out of the bed before he did something stupid and destroyed the last thread of trust that hung between him and his best friend.

....*....

Books lay spread out on the table in the depths of the Restricted Section of the library. Sebastian sat with his head in his hands, shoulders and neck tense, and aching from hours spent bending over and reading. It was the Christmas break, but he had nowhere to go. His uncle wouldn't even acknowledge him, and Anne now looked at him with distrust after his attempts to save her from a goblin had resulted in him casting an Unforgivable. He hadn't even got to share his 16th birthday with his twin, and it had torn his heart.

Sebastian felt like he was losing his grip on everything, and desperation was making him feel sick. He could lose everything. He had done some pretty awful things in his pursuit for a cure, and Ominis was losing patience with him. Sebastian couldn't help it. He couldn't stop now, and the only person who seemed to be on his side was sat in a chair opposite him, her head equally bent over a book. She too had nobody to spend the holidays with, and she had elected to stay behind with him and help him with his research.

The new 5th year was growing in power, her knowledge was expanding, and trips across the Highlands were enabling her to locate and absorb little pockets of hidden ancient magic. Sebastian had gone with her on such a trip only yesterday, and he couldn't get the image out of his mind. She had seemingly pulled the pulsing blue and white energy from the very ground, the blazing power absorbed right into her skin. She had glowed with it, her eyes taking on this ethereal shine before she returned to herself.

Sebastian stared at her across the table, awe and determination on his face. She was beginning to look like hope, and if there was one thing Sebastian needed, it was hope.

She sighed and pushed her hair back from her face, slapping her book closed and fumbling for another. Sebastian quirked his lips, watching as she opened the new book, flipping through the pages. Despite her own pressing troubles, she still found the time to help him research for Anne. It did something to ease the painful loneliness in his chest. Dare he say it, but he was growing rather fond of her.

She paused, her eyes widening and her mouth falling open. "Oh my goodness!" She gasped.

Sebastian immediately sat up with interest. "What is it?"

Her eyes lifted to his, her cheeks flushing bright red and she immediately slammed the book shut. "Nothing!"

Curious, Sebastian eyed the book. "Come on now, don't leave me in suspense," he said. "What did you find?"

She squirmed in her chair and tried to shove the book under some others. Sebastian moved fast, standing up and reaching across to snatch the book from her hands, turning it to see the cover. He raised an eyebrow. Human Anatomy and Matters of the Flesh. He looked at her, and she cringed.

"I don't think we shall find anything about a cure in there," she said sheepishly.

Sebastian opened the book and began to flick through the pages. His eyes widened as he realised some of the subject material, and he was not surprised she had blushed. He kept turning the pages until he came across a double spread of ink drawn images that made his own cheeks colour up and grow hot.

Bodies joined in lewd positions, male and female, male and male, female and female. His eyes lingered on a man with his mouth wrapped around another man's cock and Sebastian almost groaned aloud, images of Ominis crashed across his thoughts, of his plump, pink lips wrapped around Sebastian in such a way. Lost in the fantasy, he stared at the image, transfixed.

"A little shocking, isn't it?"

Sebastian jumped, his gaze flying up to meet with hers. He had forgotten she was even there for a moment. He was so engrossed on the images in the book that he hadn't even realised that she had gotten up and moved around the table to look over his shoulder.

He cleared his throat and nodded. He looked back down at the book, suddenly feeling a bit awkward, staring into her eyes over such intimate imagery. He noticed a drawing of a man thrusting himself into the arse of another man, and his blush darkened even more at the erotic look on their faces.

She giggled and reached a hand over to point at the image of a woman bent over a table, a man entering her from behind. "At it like animals," she chuckled.

Sebastian couldn't help the amused smirk that spread across his lips. "Does none of this offend you?"

"Why should it offend me? It's only natural," she said. She gave a little shrug and sat on the table edge beside him. "Humans have been doing this for centuries, time upon time. I don't think it's anything to be embarrassed about."

Sebastian chewed on his lower lip, his gaze wary. "What about the men pleasuring other men?"

Again she shrugged. "Whatever makes you feel good, I suppose."

He stared at her. The look she gave him was open and honest. She really didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with it. All the times he had thought himself disgusting and shameful, maybe he didn't need to. His curiosity over this intriguing girl ramped up another notch.

He looked down at the book again. "Have you ever...."

He swallowed. He couldn't finish the question. The silence of the Restricted Section seemed to stretch around him, his ears almost ringing in the quiet space between them. He opened his mouth to apologise but paused when her hand slid across the pages of the book to point at the image of a woman using her mouth on another woman. Sebastian's eyebrows lifted, and he gazed up at her in shock. She blushed and looked down.

"Only once," she said. "A girl who shared my room at the orphanage. We were lonely and it just happened one night when we were huddled up in a bed."

Sebastian's eyes dropped to her mouth, studying the shape of her lips, trying to imagine her doing such a thing. Her tongue slid out to wet her lips nervously at his intense stare, and he heard her breathing shift in rhythm a little. When he lifted his eyes to hers again, they seemed darker, something hidden in their depths that made his cock twitch in his pants. It was the first time in a while a girl had made that happen. It was almost a relief to know it wasn't just Ominis who had that effect on him, but it also felt strangely like a betrayal too.

"What about you?" She asked. "Have you ever experimented?"

Sebastian shook his head. "No, I... I've never really tried."

But he wanted to. His eyes locked on the image of a man entering a man, and it teased at his thoughts. He had only ever really pictured using his hands and his mouth on Ominis, but this was far more intimate and exciting. His heart began to patter a little faster at the thought of claiming Ominis in such a way. He took a shaky breath and almost closed the book, overcome with the need to possess his best friend. It was all so confusing because the images of the men taking the women were equally as exciting, and there was a strange build of tension between himself and her as they leaned over the book. He desired both, perhaps? Was this normal?

She nodded beside him, her eyes watching him carefully. "It can be rather scary, all these powerful feelings we have. I haven't tried since that one time in the orphanage, and I'm not sure I even like girls in that way. I find myself more drawn to boys, but I don't think it really makes a difference. It's still enough to make one nervous and unsure about themselves, isn't it?"

Sebastian could relate all too well. It was as though she had glimpsed inside of his head, and he looked up at her, a surge of affection warming him from the inside. His body was starved of affection. He was lonely and probably a little lost, and he had no idea where to turn, but she was there. She always seems to know what to say to take the edge off the darkness. Nobody would ever be able to replace his twin, but this girl was becoming close to being another best friend, and he had not expected it. "Why can't all people be as understanding as you?"

She blushed but a grin spread across her face. "We can't all be perfect."

He chuckled, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he closed the book, tossing it to one side. "You're right. We won't find a cure in there, at least not for Anne," he said. "Shall we keep looking?"

She stood and nodded, stretching her arms out and flexing her neck, completely unperturbed by their strange conversation. "Maybe just one more hour."

....*....

His heart was racing so hard he thought it might burst from his ribcage and spill all the pain out along with it. He was pacing mindlessly, his hands pulling at his hair, and his eyes were staring blankly around the Undercroft as his chest heaved with every struggled breath.

He had killed him.

His uncle was dead, gone, and Anne had disappeared along with him. The worst had finally arrived, just as he had feared it would. He had lost everything, and it was all his fault.

Behind his eyes, images flashed of the firelit catacombs, the swarms of Inferi and the horror on her face. His beautiful new friend should have run screaming from him, but she hadn't. She had taken up her wand and fought beside him, and she had nearly died for her efforts.

Years of taking the cruel words and hard fists had put a dent in Sebastian, he was sure of it, a dent that would never straighten out. Watching his uncle almost take out his new friend had made something snap inside of him. First, he had taken Anne with his possessive, manipulative words, and now he was trying to take her from him too. He couldn't bear it.

As the flash of green replayed behind his eyes, Sebastian winced, and a strangled sound left his throat as he fell to his knees on the hard stone floor of the Undercroft. Soft hands were immediately on his shoulders, slipping around his neck, and arms held him. Her now familiar scent surrounded him, and the tears leaked from his eyes. She was speaking, soft words of comfort, stroking his hair and telling him that everything would be alright.

Sebastian let her hold him, but stayed rigid, too frightened to accept her unconditional love, his eyes staring over her shoulder at the boy who stood equally as rigid, his face a mask of fear and disappointment.

Sebastian realised he had failed them all. And now they held his life in their hands. Ominis had mentioned turning him in, the words piercing his heart in ways he had never thought possible. He had listened to their argument over it, shock making him feel as though they were talking about somebody else, that this might just be some horrific dream that he would wake up from.

She had touched Ominis, her hands on his arms as they talked, and Sebastian frowned, in the back of his mind he wondered when they had become that close. Ominis wasn't usually one to let someone touch him, and he was not flinching from her hands and so was clearly used to it. Sebastian tried to think back through the smog of his mind, push through the shadows that had been clinging to him these past weeks as he had tried to desperately get his sister back. What had he missed?

Had he not wanted this, though? He needed Ominis to accept her so that she could help them. Realisation dawned that it was more than that now. He didn't just want her help. He needed her to be around. He wanted her to be close. She was all he had left, her and Ominis, and even now, after everything, she was fighting his corner and urging Ominis to think about this.

He stared at Ominis, his heart aching, and he felt so lost as she held him and rocked him in her arms. He felt broken, and the rigidity left him. He sank against her and let his tears fall.

....*....

The cool dark of the library was a welcome relief from the summer sun. Sebastian slid the last book from his pile onto the shelf with a sigh. He had promised to make it up to them, promised to stop searching for hope in dark ways, and as he looked towards her as she put her own pile of books away, he thought maybe they were right.

Her and Ominis were all he had left. He needed to protect that because he could not lose anyone else.

Things had been very strained between him and Ominis, and he missed him. Sebastian spent his time either alone or with her, avoiding the strange coldness that now existed between himself and his dearest friend. He didn't know how to fix it. He was faltering and stumbling, and if she hadn't been there to hold him up, he feared he would have succumbed to darkness by now. Anne was gone. He didn't know where, and he feared he would never see her again. The hole she had left could never be filled, and losing Ominis would kill him.

No more dark magic. No matter how it called. He had promised, and he was going to try and stick to it.

She put her last book away and came to stand beside him, a fresh wound on her cheek almost healed now after yet another fight against dark deeds. She leant her head against his shoulder as they stood in their quiet corner, her hands holding his arm.

"Talk to Ominis," she said softly.

He turned to look down at her head. She was an affectionate little thing, unfailing in her capacity to care despite all that she carried on her own shoulders. He did not deserve her.

She tilted her head to look up at him. "He cares for you, Sebastian," she said. "Talk to him, make things right between you. I know you care for him, too."

Sebastian swallowed against the restriction in his throat. "I'm not sure if he can fully forgive me," he whispered.

She held him tighter. "He will. You just need to show him. Open your heart, Sebastian," she urged. "You two are not meant to be apart. Talk to him. I promise you, it will be alright."

....*....

With their OWLs complete and Ranrok defeated, the summer break loomed before him. Sebastian was dreading the stretch of weeks that lay ahead, alone in that house with nought but his shadowed memories for company. Ominis had not mentioned coming to stay this year, and what with Anne gone, Sebastian wasn't sure if he would want to. He had tried to spend more time with Ominis, and he thought perhaps things were gradually improving, but it wasn't moving fast enough for Sebastian's liking.

He had seen Ominis walking near the lake with their new friend, her arm linked through his as they talked, the peal of her laughter sounding on the soft summer breeze. Sebastian's stomach churned with envy. He feared the soft expression Ominis had now developed when he was around her, but he also didn't feel entirely comfortable with the way Ominis was stealing her from spending time with him.

Restless, Sebastian tossed and turned in his bed before falling into a troubled sleep where memories combined with fears, and he became trapped in a hell of his own making. He woke with a start, his heart pounding, sweat beaded on his face as the tortured images slowly cleared behind his hazy eyes. He flinched at the feel of fingers grasping at him, and he spun violently on the bed with a startled cry to see Ominis leaning over him, worry pinching his pale eyes.

"Ominis," he gasped.

"Are you alright?" Ominis asked softly. "You were dreaming, and I can't imagine it was a pleasant one judging by your distress."

Tears stung Sebastian's eyes. He was supposed to be the strong one. He was the one who comforted Ominis at night. To see him at his bedside, trembling, his expression, one of concern as his hands carefully grasped at Sebastian's pyjama shirt, made Sebastian's heart twist.

He reached up and tugged Ominis forward, craving the feel of him. "I can't..." He gulped, the words sticking in his throat. The tears broke free and spilt onto his cheeks, a shuddering sob leaving him. His voice cracked with the emotion that felt backed up and compressed in his chest. "I'm sorry. Don't leave me."

Ominis made a sound of distress, his hands fluttering up to touch uncertainly at Sebastian's face. "Oh, no, please don't cry," he urged softly. His fingers grazed against the wetness on Sebastian's cheeks, and then he was cupping his face with long, graceful fingers. "It's alright. I'm here, I will always be here. You are not alone."

Sebastian's chest caved, and he shook with his tears, Ominis scrambled up onto the bed beside him, tumbling down to hold Sebastian in a tight embrace. Sebastian felt no shame as he buried his face against the chest of his beloved friend. He clung to him as Ominis soothed him with soft strokes and whispered words.

"I love you," Sebastian whispered. But the words were muffled through his tears and against the soft material of Ominis' shirt. It wasn't really about Ominis hearing them. It was more about admitting them to himself.

He did love him, and a world without Ominis in it was not a world he wanted to live in.

To be continued...

[eggymf-archived]

of paper planes and wildflowers; 01

ft. ominis gaunt with f!reader (series)

chapter warnings: nsfw, semi-public sex, chaotically embarrassing situations,  mild dubcon, aphrodisiac, feeble attempt at ominis slander for plot(?) purposes, not proofread, unedited

chapter summary:  from teenage gossips to formulating random drinks together with your best friend, everything goes completely awry in the most unexpectedly worst way possible. 

word count: 4k

a/n: i wrote this during 1 am in the morning after a mental breakdown lmao what’s good D:

main masterlist || series masterlist || AO3

“That’s the seventh time you sighed in the last five minutes.”

You grumbled in response at Natsai’s observation, dropping your forehead flat on the table with a distinct thud, much to Madam Scribner’s chagrin who harshly shushed you with a matching glare. Natsai gave the said librarian an apologetic look before turning towards you again with concern.

"Probably ‘cause of her mum again, I reckon,” Garreth piped, flipping his book to the next page as he scribbled down on his rolled-out parchment. You shuddered in response, recalling that damned Howler you received from your mother prior this week when she found out you had landed yourself in detention with Garreth again. Your mother expected great academic success from you and for you to behave yourself, especially during this year when you’ll be taking your OWLs.

“I’m sure you’ll do great for your OWLs. Despite the trouble you get yourself into, you always excel in your studies anyway,” Natsai comforted, rubbing your shoulder as you let out yet another sigh. Yes, you were having problems with your mum’s incessant reminder of picking a career path, and yes, you were tremendously feeling pressured about acing your OWLs. But there was another problem:  a huge one in fact - so huge you couldn’t even tell your two close friends about it. 

“I’ll be fine, you two. I just have a lot in my mind lately,” you mumbled, laying your cheek flat on the surface of the table while staring at an empty table from the distance. 

“I’d say. You’ve been on the edge eversince that potions incident,” Garreth pointed out, earning a fairly loud snort from you.

“Which potions incident, Garreth? Last time I checked, you’ve had a total of three incidents this month,” you teased.

“Oh shush. It wasn’t that bad!” the ginger-haired Gryffindor laughed. “I’m talking about that one drink we concocted around two to three weeks ago. The one that you drank?”

Your cheeks slightly pinked at the memory: of course you remember that incident. It was the main reason that has caused you to get stuck in this infernal situation, after all.

“Pretty sure it's not the potion, Garreth. I’m assuming this is just my academic stress finally getting to me,” you dismissively reasoned, thus dropping the subject to concentrate on each of your respective tasks.

You half-expected your 5th year to be like the usual: focusing on your studies, literally brewing mischief and greatness with Garreth, sneaking out of the castle grounds to “practice” your duelling (extracurricular activities, as you’d like to call it) with Natsai occasionally tagging along, and so much more. Aside from the utter chaos that was presently occurring within the wizarding world, who would’ve thought that your life would also end up being in a state of frenzy. 

You shouldn’t have had that particular conversation with Garreth back then. You shouldn’t have drank that damned potion either. But in your defense, you wouldn’t have tried anything weird from the ginger-haired boy unless you actually helped him with the concoction. You’re pretty well-versed with various ingredients, priding yourself to be both book smart and pro-active in collecting various ingredients from the highlands yourself. But alas you were still a student - a silly little student making silly little mistakes. Somewhere along the process of making that certain concoction, you had messed up the calculations of the ingredients’ ratio - something that would prove to be rather grave on your part. 

You and Garreth were hanging out together at the Transfiguration Courtyard after class, the both of you discussing several ingredient combinations as usual. While he scribbled notes on a piece of parchment during the ongoing conversation, you were practicing non-verbal spellcasting for simple charms. However, the conversation took a different turn when you noticed Garreth’s voice slowly faltering as a certain housemate of yours passed by while carrying several thick books. You smirked in realization, calling out the ebony-haired female. Garreth elbowed you harshly, giving you a half-hearted glare. The female turned and smiled towards the both of you in acknowledgment before heading off.

“Blimey, Garreth. Samantha Dale?” you asked, causing him to flush bright pink. “Since when?”

“Last year during potions. That time when Sharp made her switch places with you,” he admitted, causing you to teasingly snicker.

“W-what? It’s not like you haven’t had a crush!” he sputtered.

“I hate to disappoint you but no, I haven’t,” you deadpanned.

“Tell you what, let me ask you this question instead. If you were given the choice, who would you snog in our year?”

“Garreth Weasley, I am NOT answering that!”

“I’ll get the answers right out of you whether you like it or not and you know it. Is it Amit?”

“No.”

“Is it me?”

You slapped his arm in response, earning a laugh from him.

“I’ll take that as a no. Leander?”

“I’d rather get kissed by a dementor.”

“Touché. Perhaps Sebastian?” 

“Have you seen how he looks at the new 5th year? Poor lad looks like a lovesick crup puppy it makes me sick.”

Garreth paused, deep in thought. His lips curled into a smug grin.

Oh no. This isn’t good. 

“Ominis Gaunt?”

A pregnant silence ensued, your expression utterly mortified. Garreth guffawed at your bewildered state, running away from you as you chased him down. Your face was a bright shade of red - whether it is out of embarrassment, denial, realization, or the fact that you were greatly offended by the mere suggestion, Garreth has already arrived to his own conclusion. He was absolutely never going to live this down. After all, you were normally straightforward especially when it came to your preferences: your hesitation was already an obvious sign to the answer.

Tomfoolery aside, Garreth knew you didn’t really like Ominis. To you, Ominis was a sardonic little gossip. Whenever something of note had occurred and anyone involved passes by, he would often quip about their little secrets or actions alongside his unsolicited opinions. His reputation as a Gaunt also played a part as to why you steered clear of him as much as possible: they were proud, volatile, discriminatory, and has a long history with dark magic.

Everyone in Hogwarts always say that it was impossible for secrets to be kept within the castle walls. If the castle walls have ears, then one of those set of ears most likely belonged to Ominis himself. Unfortunately, that would prove to be a correct statement for your particular little case: a certain male with a particularly strong sense of hearing might’ve picked up on your conversation with Garreth earlier.

“Are you sure about this?” Garreth asked as you grabbed the phial from the potions table. “You don’t need to be the test subject, you know? We could just get other people to try it out.”

The concoction that you’ve been working on together with Garreth now rests in your hand. The both of you haven’t named it yet, but it was supposed to stimulate the mind to focus better and to give its drinker an energy boost. Given how stressed you are with your academic subjects and the fact that you’re on the verge of a mental breakdown, you didn’t really care as long as the potion did something to improve your performance.

“It’s the weekend tomorrow, Garreth. If this goes wrong, I have two days tops to get better. I doubt I’ll even need to go to the hospital wing though,” you reassured, taking a sip. The liquid was fizzy, tasted like sherbet lemons, and it brought a pleasant little buzz at the back of your head after a while. Garreth stared at you expectantly.

“Well...?”

“Hmm. So far, so good. We’ll see what happens for the rest of the day,” you said.

“Grand. I’ll see you later then!”

You and Garreth headed off to your own respective classes. You headed off to the Transfiguration Classroom, feeling increasingly invigorated as the potion took its effect bit by bit. You were rather proud of the concoction you and Garreth had made. It felt as if you chugged a vial of Felix Felicis - nothing would ever go wrong for the day and luck was definitely on your side. 

“Hopefully this little boost lasts until I’m done with all my assignments,” you mumbled to yourself as you entered the Transfiguration Classroom, sitting at one of the vacant desks. Your classmates began to pour in, occupying the remaining seats while you flipped through the pages of your textbook, mulling over the possible lesson for today. Right as Professor Weasley left her office to enter the classroom, the classroom doors barged open revealing the flushed faces Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt.

“Ah, you two are just in time. Please take your seats,” Professor Weasley said. The two panting boys complied, heading to the remaining vacant seats, which was the one right beside you and the other was beside Cressida Blume. The opal-eyed male opted to occupy the one beside you, much to your hidden distress. You were thankful that you didn’t have Garreth as a classmate here - it would’ve been a nightmare seeing his smug little grin and him occasionally making kissy faces to mock the remaining patience right out of your entire being. 

Thankfully, the class was rather uneventful aside from a brief lecture and all of you trying out the Vanishing Spell on several objects. You kept stealing not-so-secret glances at the boy beside you as he made his own attempts, flawlessly executing the spells within a few tries. As much as you hated to admit it, the Gaunts truly did have their own unique allure. Ominis was one of the living proofs - he looked quite elegant and easy on the eyes compared to most of the guys in your year: milky blue eyes, alabaster skin, beauty marks, and dirty blonde hair that was always neatly-styled. He was someone that people would most likely stare at out of admiration.

“You know I can feel you staring at me, right?”

Until he opens his mouth, that is.

“Hmm? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you deadpanned, causing his lips to curl into a knowing smirk. You didn’t like that a single bit, and you wanted this class to end so that you could go about your merry little way avoiding the Gaunt as you always did.

“...On that note, I’ll be assigning you all into pairs. Your partners for this assignment are your current seatmates: I’ll be expecting a 6-inch essay compilation of the Inanimatus Conjurus Spell by next week. Class dismissed.”

Your face fell.

“Is there something the matter?” Professor Weasley asked, noticing your rather upfront reaction. You shook your head vehemently, earning a couple of snorts and giggles from your classmates. You quickly shut your textbook and got up.

“Catch you around. Try compose yourself the next time we sit together, won’t you?” Ominis mocked jokingly as he left. You pointedly stared at his retreating back, silently quelling your mild annoyance.

For the most part, you stayed out of trouble for the entire day, focusing on your assignments and catching up on advanced self-studying. The drink proved to be quite a success so far - it was nearly as effective as an Invigorating Draught, and it helped you sort out the tricky bits from your assignments without contemplating on it way too much. You’ve been holed up in the library eversince your last period, and you still felt quite energetic. The library was getting more and more empty, with students opting to go to the Great Hall for their dinners or back to their common rooms. Meanwhile you just got out of the Transfiguration Section after getting the necessary reference books for that blasted compiled essay due next week. 

Suddenly, you felt your head throb, causing you to drop the books rather unceremoniously on the table. Good thing Madam Scribner wasn’t nearby or she would’ve chided you for not handling school property with care. You uncapped the phial of the concoction, chugging the last remaining contents. Perhaps the effect was lessening hence the sudden dizzying headache.

Oh but you were dead wrong. It got worse.

You felt your body heat up uncomfortably as your senses began to get more heightened - your breathing is now labored, your clothes felt unbelievably scratchy against your skin, and you felt that oh so familiar sinful tingling in between your legs. Panicked, you glanced around the library, seeing if there’s anyone nearby. You clenched your legs shut almost painfully, trying to steady your erratic breathing and heartbeat.

“Alright, self. Calm down. As long as nobody sees you like this--”

You were snapped out of your inner monologue with an oh-so-familiar posh-toned voice jolting you back into reality.

“Thought I might find you here. About that assignment...”

You inwardly screamed in sheer horror and embarrassment, cursing the bad luck that had befallen your poor self. Ominis sat right beside you, blissfully unaware of your current predicament. You couldn’t even comprehend what the male was saying to you: you were gripping your skirt tightly and biting your lower lips all in a great effort to suppress anything that might be a dead giveaway to your situation. Ominis, however, was a lot more astute than you expected. His eyebrows furrowed, immediately sensing that something was up.

“Why are you holding your breath?”

Fuck.

“O-oh. Uh... I-I was? W-well I-”

“What’s going on with you?” Ominis asked rather harshly. You gulped, trying your best to keep the last bits of sanity in your brain intact. According to your nether regions, Ominis sounded absolutely ravishing when he talks like that, and the remaining rationality within your mind refuses to accept that depraved notion. 

You almost moaned out loud when he touched your forehead with the back of his hand. He, however, wasn’t looking too amused with how unusual you were acting. Ominis frowned, looking rather offended for getting him caught up in this awkward situation. He got up, getting ready to leave.

“W-wait!” you cried out, tugging at the sleeve of his robes while looking at him with pleading eyes. “P-please help me...”

Ominis quirked an eyebrow, a faint smirk gracing his lips at your begging tone. He turned back towards you, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Oh? And why should I do that?” he sneered.

“Please I... I think I might’ve ingested an a-ah...!” 

“A what?”

“...Aphrodisiac...” you breathed out, shameful tears welling up in your eyes.

Ominis was mortified, a dark shade of pink flushing his usually pale complexion. He cleared his throat while loosening up his necktie in an attempt to diffuse his bashfulness. An aphrodisiac problem was certainly the last thing he would’ve expected from you.

“So you want me to help you... Because you might’ve ingested an aphrodisiac?” he asked, still finding the situation beyond belief.

You sobbed in response, nodding furiously. You felt so utterly humiliated that you were actually on the verge of wailing on the spot. You couldn’t think straight, you were a mess down there, and you were trying your absolute best to get the situation in control. You didn’t want to go to the hospital wing, nor were you even planning to tell Garreth or Natsai about this unfortunate side effect. Your common room wasn’t an option too because it’s a shared dormitory and the Ravenclaw tower was simply too far. Hell, this was one of the worst situations you could ever find yourself in, and there was absolutely no way Ominis would agree to this madness. 

Honestly, you just wanted to stay in a more secluded place to wait for the effects to die out. However, you had no idea where to go and you were desperate enough to ask even Ominis himself.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when he stood up and leaned towards you, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at his misty blue eyes while his other hand rested on the table surface behind you to support his weight.

“Are you sure you want me to do it?” he breathed. You blushed at the question, your sobs slowly quieting down as you drank the sight of him under the cold moonlight peering from the arched windows.

He was so frustratingly beautiful. So fucking ethereal.

“... Y-yes,” you gulped shakily. “P-please.”

Wait. Do what? What’s fucking happening? What the fuck did I agree on?!

He hummed in response, seemingly satisfied with your answer. 

“Hmm. Perhaps you do want to snog me after all,” he murmured before planting his lips against yours. Your eyelids fluttered shut as you instantly melted into the softness of his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. He lifted you from your seat, making you sit on the table. However, the both of you were interrupted by the sound of heels clacking on the wooden floor. You and Ominis quickly got up, hiding behind one of the nearby bookcases.

Madam Scribner came up to the table, frowning. She grabbed the now haphazardly-placed reference books from the table, tutting about how irresponsible students are with handling books before walking off. 

You and Ominis remained still, listening intently at Madam Scribner’s now dying footsteps. As soon as the exit door was opened and then shut close, Ominis captured your lips once again, pushing you towards the nearest table. The both of you were frantically scrambling, attempting to remove each other’s cloaks while remaining in a passionate lip lock. You sat on the table as soon as you felt the edge of the table top hit the back of your thigh, spreading your legs apart to pull Ominis much closer to you. 

For some odd reason, having Ominis Gaunt right in between your legs felt so fucking right. Your head spun with lustful desire, taking in his addicting scent: a faint combination of patchouli, sandalwood and spearmint candy. He gave one of your breasts a firm squeeze while his tongue intruded your mouth, to which you gladly received by lightly suckling on the wet appendage, earning a groan from him. Ominis ground his hips against yours instinctively, brushing his now visible erection against your still clothed privates. 

His lips then began trailing down from your lips to your jawline, latching itself on a sensitive spot at the crook of your neck. You mewled, teasingly trailing your feet along the back of his legs, finally locking your legs around his hips to further push himself harder against your heated core. His hands harshly gripped your ankles in response, your inner thighs quivering in anticipation as he deftly unclasped your Mary Janes. You kicked them off rather impatiently, slightly raising your hips up as Ominis reached underneath your skirt for the waistband of both your tights and knickers, slowly peeling the article of clothing off your legs.

“Bend over for me,” he growled against your ear, to which you happily complied as you leaned over the table while lifting your skirt up. You shuddered both in delight and relief as the cool air hit the skin of your warm lower regions. Ominis traced a finger on your exposed slit, groaning as globs of your honey-like essence coated his digit. 

“Merlin, you’re fucking soaked...” he moaned, inserting his finger inside your hole, earning a breathy gasp from you as your legs trembled in wanton delight. You felt your juices trickle down your legs as Ominis added another finger inside your core, pumping his digits in and out of you at an increasing speed. You whimpered, slapping your hand over your mouth at the brutality of his fingers. With how sensitive your body was, it wouldn’t take long until you had your sweet release. 

Much to your disappointment, Ominis retracted his fingers away from your heat, licking your juices off his fingers. He groaned at your sweet taste while you sobbed in frustration, swaying your rear as your legs trembled at the lack of stimulation. Ominis swiftly unbuttoned his pants, tugging on the waistband of his briefs to free his painfully erect shaft. You let out a surprised whimper upon feeling the blunt head of the thick appendage stroke itself against your weeping slit, lubricating itself before it dove right into your awaiting pussy with little to no resistance. Your back arched instinctively at the sudden intrusion as you gasped blissfully in sheer unadulterated pleasure.

“A-ah..! F-fuck yes! Mmph..!” you cried out. Ominis slapped a hand against your mouth while the other pinned one of your wrists against your lower back as he plowed his cock inside your pussy.  

“Best to keep it down, don’t you think? Wouldn’t want us to get caught now, do you?” he panted, thrusting deep and fast as you mindlessly moaned with absolutely no shame against his hand. He was right - there were enchanted portraits nearby, wandering ghosts, and prefects right outside the library after all. The thought of someone walking in at any minute made your walls clench, which doesn’t go unnoticed by the alabaster-skinned male as he relished in the spasms and flutters of your inner walls, his cock twitching in pleasure.

“Oh, you are absolutely vile!” he chuckled darkly, slowing himself down momentarily yet still thrusting as deep as he could. You swore your knees almost gave out as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix. 

“You’re quite the filthy little whore, aren’t you? It’s almost as if you want to get caught,” he mocked as your knees shook. You sobbed pathetically with pleasure-filled tears running down your face. He yanked your upper body closer to his, letting his hands wander shamelessly on your curves while peppering the column of your neck with bites and kisses. You blissfully sighed, intoxicated with all the sensations happening on your body all at once. Your bleary eyes widened as his cock brushed against a spot within your weeping hole, your mouth hanging ajar in a loud gasp which caused Ominis to smirk against your neck. He slammed your body back on the table, your breasts flat against the table surface as he aimed for the spot precisely with swift, merciless strokes.

Ominis was absolutely delirious as he listened to the debauched symphony of your helplessly submissive little yelps and moans, wet skin slapping against each other, the sound of the table rocking against the hardwood floors, his own erratic breathing and occasional groans whenever he felt your walls flutter around his swollen member. This was now his new guilty pleasure: reducing his normally put-together, top-achieving, goody-two-shoes of a classmate into nothing but a slut who’s hungry for only his cock. Something about that mere thought completely disintegrates his last remaining shred of principles and rationality in the moment as he mindlessly chased his high, sinful fantasies filling his presently depraved, pussy-drunk mind.

“F-fuck! I... I’m cumming! I’m cumming-!” you babbled as your walls clenched unbelievably tight around his cock, causing Ominis to hiss in pleasure as he pulled out of your quivering hole, pumping his member desperately as spurts of milky white semen landed on your labia. The both of you stilled for a moment, breathless and completely fucked-out.

Ominis quickly tucked his now softening member back into his pants and tidied himself up while you shakily got up from the poor table. You groaned, feeling a slight pain in between your legs as you conjured a clean cloth with your wand, wiping away any stray bodily fluids from your lower regions before vanishing the object away. Ominis leaned against the opposite bookshelf as you put your panties and tights back on, crossing his arms. You glanced at him as you sat on the table, clasping your shoes back on. He was still as pristine as ever, as if your recent activities had never even happened.

“Prefects should be gone by now. Will you be alright going back to your common room alone?” he asked. 

“I think so,” you replied, grimacing slightly at the dull throb of your worn-out hole. Ominis hummed, walking towards the staircase leading to the library exit with his wand up, the tip blinking its signature red light.

“Oh, and Gaunt?” 

“Yes?”

“Nothing happened here, alright?”

chapter 2: what a mess! 🔞 >

[morelikeravenbore]

POP!

"Good morning! Or... Afternoon? Evening? With all this Christmas hustle, it's already so hard to tell!.. Miss Aura? Erm, Scroll?.. Oh, don't make me—alright, Sebastian?!"

"So, not here as well… Snowflake needs to head to the kitchen soon to help with the most important dinner of the year, so, for now, Snowflake will just leave a letter, perhaps."

Snaps fingers, and an Enchanted Quill and a Normal Scroll of parchment appear.

Dear Miss Aura,

Snowflake has searched everywhere for you—the library, the Room of Requirement, the castle dungeons, the castle towers… even the kitchens (where Snowflake might have been distracted by some delicious chocolate cake...) Well, everywhere except all the Highlands catacombs, of course, because why would you even be there…

First of all, Snowflake wants to say—these December adventures have been so much fun!Chaotic? Absolutely. Disastrous? At times! But Snowflake wouldn't trade them for anything 💙 It's been amazing spending time with you, Miss Aura!

(And thank you for funding Snowflake's therapy! Snowflake is actually now considering an early retirement— traveling the world, collecting teacups, learning to knit, and maybe train Nifflers... The possibilities are endless!)

Second of all, you'll probably be happy to know the library has been completely restored to its perfectly normal state—no portals, no ash stains, no punk music (well, that's a loss, Snowflake admits). All the Christmas decorations are ready too!

Snowflake hopes you're alright—and that you and Sebastian have made (or are planning to make) excellent and totally legal use of that Felix Felicis!

Now to the most important thing! Snowflake had another little project while searching for you. Remember those old, dusty portraits in the Long Gallery? Snowflake thought they could use a fresh perspective, so… Snowflake replaced them all with your breathtaking screenshots!

Now every student walking through gets to admire your creative and absolutely gorgeous pictures instead of some grumpy old wizards glaring down at them. Snowflake is absolutely certain it's a vast improvement.

Wherever you are, Miss Aura, Snowflake wishes you the merriest of Christmases, sending you lots of love, cheer, and a little extra magic to brighten your holidays!✨ Stay safe and take care 💙

With festive cheer, Snowflake the Ever-Mysterious House-Elf ❄️☃️

POP!

After a day of galavanting through the catacombs in my finery, I find a letter awaiting me on my return.  Tentatively, I unfurl the parchment, but thankfully it isn't the sentient type, nor does it quote 2000's-era emo lyrics at me or roll its eyes (yes). 

I sigh with relief.

With my heart full of love and gratitude, I reach for the nearest stack of parchment to pen a reply to my favourite elf. 

Strange — instead of parchment on my desk, I find a notebook covered in pink and black hearts. On the cover in thick black ink are the words: ScRIbN3R'z. K33P OUT!!1!1! in a border of little skull and crossbones.

Inside (yes, I opened it, sue me), it's filled with scribbled ideas for "crack fics":

— One Thousand and One Ways to Kill your Uncle (And Get Away With It!) 

— Haute Couture in the Highlands: How to Look Fabulous on Quests.

— My Life as an Emo Superstar: The Rise and Fall of the Sk8er Boi.

— Unforgivables for Dummies

And finally — The Elf That Saw Too Much: Effective Therapy Methods for Traumatised Elves

Repressing memories of too-tight jeans and Sebastian air-guitaring to "I'm Just A Kid", I burn the notebook (in the background, Madam Scribner screams) and decide to send my message telepathically instead. 

I rub my temples and concentrate hard on tapping into my extra-special Main Character powers. 

SNOWFLAKE???? I scream inside my head. HELLO???? CAN YOU HEAR ME???? 

I JUST WANT TO SAY 

THAT YOU HAVE

SIGNIFICANTLY!!!!!! 

BRIGHTENED MY CHRISTMAS!!! 

THANK YOU FOR MAKING ME LAUGH

UNTIL 

I CRIED 

IT HAS BEEN AN HONOUR CREATING CHAOS WITH YOU!!!!!! 

Thank you for being the best secret santa ever! I hope you get everything good you deserve! 

[ask-scribner]

Please, compose your bosoms, darling. It's hardly a surprise. I'm fully aware of my irresistible body and personality. It's only natural when you're as well-versed in the arts of both literature and pleasure as I am. I have a way of leaving readers thoroughly satisfied.

My favourite Agatha has emerged on the HL RP scene and it's been glorious. Follow for the best nsfw innuendos this side of Hogsmeade. https://www.tumblr.com/ask-scribner

✨Agnes the Librarian RP Hype ✨ @ask-scribner

[ask-felix-aberg]

*a small package is dropped off right in front of you by a large owl, and even through all the packaging, you can smell a faint scent of freshly baked lemon cookies. a note attached to the package reads:*

I might not be able to give you a hug, but I hope these cookies will brighten your day. Happy birthday, Felix

—a friendly birdie 🐦‍⬛

Felix had just settled into a quiet corner of the library when the soft thud of a package landing in front of him broke the silence, making his heart nearly skip a beat. He glanced around, hoping Madam Scribner hadn't noticed the commotion, but he was fairly certain she had. She always did.

A faint scent of lemon wafted through the air, instantly drawing his attention back to the package. Felix carefully untied the note and read it, a warm smile spreading across his face. A friendly birdie, indeed. He peeled the wrapping away just enough to reveal the lemon cookies inside and, without hesitation, took a bite, nearly letting out a pleased hum but catching himself just in time. Scribner's hearing was legendary after all.

Pulling out a scrap of parchment, Felix scribbled back a quick reply.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─☆: .☽ . :☆─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Thank you, dear birdie! The cookies are delicious! Almost as good as a hug. :)

Thank you, they made my day!

-Felix 🐐

[akron-squirrel]

What animation styles did not make the cut in the Steamed Hams video?

I can't remember them all but some that I do:

MeatCanyon (I was super close to finishing the whole video and that scene was going to take a while)

Megas XLR

Hey Arnold!

'50s Tex Avery

Rod Scribner (would've taken absolutely forever)

Bob McKimson (ditto)

Duckman

Rugrats

Johnny Bravo S2-3

Messy chaotic scribbles

KOTH (decided Beavis & Butthead was similar enough)

[ask-scribner]

I wouldn’t mind a little snack, Professor Ronen.

"Ah, Miss Fenwick! One for you as well!" Professor Ronen exclaimed as he spotted Allegra in the corridor, his hand already outstretched, ready to pop an unwrapped lemon drop into her mouth.

*leans back and away with a thinly veiled look of digust*

I would prefer it wrapped, Professor.

[shirlleycoyle]

What the End of the Universe Will Really Be Like, According to a Theoretical Cosmologist

Apocalyptic visions have always percolated in humanity’s collective imagination, whether it’s the Rapture, Ragnarök, or a future asteroid impact like the one that killed the dinosaurs. In recent decades, however, scientists have managed to establish some rough parameters around the ultimate Doomsday: the death of the universe itself.

Katie Mack, a theoretical cosmologist at North Carolina State University, explores these terminal diagnoses for the cosmos in her new book The End of Everything (Astrophysically Speaking), which packs a huge amount of scientific research into forecasting the eventual fate of our universe.

“It doesn’t end well,” she warned in a call.

Before you scribble “end of universe” onto the list of things keeping you up at night, take comfort in the fact that the really bad stuff will happen in the far-future of the cosmos, at least tens of billions of years from now. You will be long dead, as will Earth and the Sun. The senescent universe will be a time and place totally alien from our own surroundings, far more fantastical than any the feverish apocalyptic visions of myth or fiction.

“I get asked a lot: How do you deal with thinking about these big topics, like ultimate destruction? How does it affect your outlook?” Mack said. “I think all you can do is go to the absurd in the sense that there’s no way to conceptualize this stuff with daily experience.”

“It’s like the universe is laughing at this idea that we can have an orderly and safe environment in which to live,” she added. “It very much upends our notion of stability in our world. I don’t know how to respond to that other than just laughing at it, because it’s not personal.”

We asked Mack to unpack a few of the juiciest apocalyptic scenarios in The End of Everything (Astrophysically Speaking), which is out from Scribner on Tuesday.

Heat Death: When time ceases to matter

The universe will most likely perish in a state of total disorder known as Heat Death, when the direction of time as we experience it ceases to matter and just about anything may be possible, according to cosmologists.

In this scenario, space just keeps expanding until galaxies fall apart, all the stars burn out, and even atoms decay and disintegrate. At this point, the universe will have reached a point of maximum entropy, or disorder, rendering the “arrow of time”—the difference between the past and the future—meaningless.

“Time still happens, but you have lost the directionality in some sense,” Mack explained. “It’s based on the fact that the way we define past and future, from a strictly physics perspective, is that the only thing we know about that really cares about the difference between past and the future is the second law of thermodynamics, which is entropy.”

“If you can get to a point where entropy is maximized, where you can’t create more entropy, then it’s hard to say that time is really meaningful in a global sense anymore,” she said.

Needless to say, some trippy stuff could end up happening in a universe that has maxed out on entropy and faded into a vast and eternal bath of thermodynamic equilibrium. For instance, Mack describes the Boltzmann Brain problem, which involves “disembodied sentient brains popping in and out of existence,” according to the book. This, and anything else—a whale materializing next to a bowl of petunias, or a piano assembling itself from nothing—becomes increasingly likely in such a scenario.

Such wild imaginings stem from the sheer slowness of the Heat Death, a decay that could take a googol (10 to the power of 100) years to really get rolling. Those huge timescales boost the odds of totally bizarre random events occasionally happening in a fizzled-out cosmos—including, potentially, the birth of a new universe.

“The nice thing about the Heat Death is that you have a lot of time,” Mack said. “If you want to make sure that you get a lot done in your universe before it goes out on you, then maybe the Heat Death is the best option.”

The Big Rip: When gravity breaks and the Earth explodes

The Heat Death is the probable outcome of the accelerated expansion of the universe, but cosmic expansion may also lead to a less likely, yet far more violent, end of everything: the Big Rip.

In this scenario, objects in the universe don’t drift apart and decay into maximum entropy. Instead, a point is reached at which the expansion of the universe ultimately tears apart the fabric of spacetime itself, like a cloth sheet that splits when stretched, causing the force of gravity to lose its trademark grip.

In a chilling section of the book, Mack describes exactly what this fate would look like to us on Earth if it was approaching in the near-future. “Our night sky begins to darken,” she writes, “as the great Milky Way swath across the sky fades. The galaxy is evaporating.”

“We begin to find that the orbits of the planets are not what they should be, but are instead slowly spiraling outward,” she continues. “Just months before the end, after we’ve lost the outer planets to the great and growing blackness, the Earth drifts away from the Sun, and the Moon from the Earth. We too enter the darkness, alone.”

It sounds lonely, I know, but take heart: we would only have to bear this isolation for a few hours before the Earth blows up.

The explosion of Earth due to shredded spacetime certainly makes for a cinematically exciting scene. But if we are fated for a Big Rip, it is not likely to happen for about 200 billion years. That’s a lot sooner than the standard Heat Death scenario, but it is well beyond the lifespan of our solar system, Earth, and (probably) humanity.

That said, there may well be alien civilizations in the future, or perhaps descendants of our own species, that could have to face this horrifying reality. “I think it’s entirely possible that there could be life still around on those timescales,” Mack said.

If there are still sentient beings at that point, and the Big Rip does come to pass, all we can do right now is offer our sincere condolences to them from the distant past.

Vacuum Decay: A sudden end

Heat Death would kill the universe slowly and softly, while the Big Rip is a much swifter assassin. But if you’re looking for the fastest end to existence, Vacuum Decay is the cosmic Doomsday for you.

“I have a special place in my heart for Vacuum Decay,” Mack said. “Partly, because it’s just so out of left field and such a bizarre possibility that has only really been very seriously talked about in the last few years.”

“But also because it’s quick and painless and you don’t notice it,” she added. “So that’s nice.”

This outcome is a bit of a dark horse, though its profile has been raised thanks to the recent discovery of the Higgs boson particle by the Large Hadron Collider in Switzerland. One of the implications of this breakthrough is that our reality may not be all that fundamentally stable in ways that could have rather abrupt consequences for life, the universe, and everything.

The universe could be a “true vacuum,” which means that objects in it are always able to find their lowest energy state, creating some level of cosmic stability. However, the Higgs field appears to be “metastable,” which raises the possibility that the universe may be a false vacuum.

Theoretically, this means that if the Higgs particle were to sense a true vacuum, it would be attracted to that environment. This is very bad for us, because it would trigger the spontaneous destruction of the universe in what Mack calls “a bubble of quantum death.”

Unlike the creeping dread of the Heat Death or the Big Rip, the Vacuum Decay apocalypse would kill us all in a snap. The death bubble would simply expand its borders at the speed of light, incinerating everything in its path with ruthless efficiency.

“In terms of the aesthetics of it, or the practical implications of what actually happens to you, maybe vacuum decay is a nicer option,” compared to the Heat Death or the Big Rip, Mack said.

In principle, Vacuum Decay could happen at any time, but cosmologists think it is far more likely to happen tens of billions of years into the future, similar to the other end-times scenarios. We will need to keep pushing the boundaries of particle physics and cosmology in order to develop the idea, but it’s not considered a probable end to the universe at this time.

“It’s just a super fun thing to work on because the implications are so big,” Mack said. “We can learn a lot about our cosmos by assuming that it could happen.”

*****

The universe will likely continue to exist for several hundred billion years to come. But thinking about its ultimate end seems particularly resonant in 2020, a year that has taken on its own identity of apocalyptic mayhem.

It’s understandable to be exhausted by the horrors of the Covid-19 pandemic and the economic devastation it has wrought, or by the rapid onset of climate change with its myriad disasters, or by the threat of authoritarian leaders and brutal state violence.

Reading about the ultimate death of the universe may not assuage those fears, but it will immerse you in the astonishing weirdness of our wider surroundings, and remind you of the ingenuity of scientists who have spent centuries trying to read the cosmic tea leaves.

“There is a kind of luxury about being able to think about things that are disconnected from you and not just everyday survival,” Mack said. “It’s real and it’s destructive and everything is torn apart, but maybe that’s a way to displace some of the feelings of angst and desperation that you might have in daily life.”

What the End of the Universe Will Really Be Like, According to a Theoretical Cosmologist syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

[ask-scribner]

Dear Agnes,

I assume our agreement still stands? I finished your latest S.P.I.C.E. suggestion and I'm ready to delve even deeper into your Restricted Section.

Mr. Moon

Mr. Moon,

By Merlin's crotch, you didn't think I'd let you slip between my covers without permission, did you? You’re finished when I tell you you’re finished.

Respectfully yours, A. Scribner

[vctrmagazine]

before graduation: this side of paradise

ruth landry

I spent the summer before college working at an away camp in Tennessee. For two months, I lived in a cabin with a dozen thirteen-year-old girls and stood as a sweaty lifeguard on the dock of shallow lake. During my rare free time, I tried to finish all of the books that I had been assigned, but never actually read, during high school English class. The list was embarrassingly long; I had skated through high school on a combination of SparkNotes and the understanding that teachers wouldn’t pay much attention to me if I turned in work regularly. And that’s how, on the eve of my 19th birthday, I found myself reading F. Scott Fitzgerald’s This Side of Paradise by flashlight on a bunk bed in the middle of the Cumberland Plateau, Tennessee.

The story behind the novel’s publication was just as exciting as the novel itself. In 1919, Zelda Sayre broke off her engagement with twenty-two-year-old Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald. He didn’t make enough money, and seemingly never would. Fitzgerald was undeterred, and set to work on his novel (versions of which had already been twice rejected by Scribner’s) with the hope that upon its publication, Zelda would agree again to marry him. This time, he hurriedly cobbled together short stories, poems, a one act play, and his previous novel “The Romantic Egoist” into one disjointed narrative. This Side of Paradise was published in 1920. He and Zelda were married a week later.

It’s a sloppy first novel. The seams of Fitzgerald’s patchwork are immediately visible—almost two hundred pages pass before stage directions are suddenly introduced, a brief interlude is composed only of letters and poems, and the story itself is clearly made of several episodes rather than a linear plot. Yet Fitzgerald’s sharp wit and eye for detail make this unruliness seem playful and fresh, rather than merely haphazard.

The semi-autobiographical protagonist Amory Blaine is vain, lazy, convinced of his own genius, and prone to statements like, “I hate to get anywhere by working for it. I’ll show the marks, don’t you know.” And yet, he is also charming, imaginative, and occasionally self-aware. At Princeton, he befriends the few of his classmates who he takes to be smarter than himself, though any time they assert their talents, he sulks. He falls in and out of love with debutantes who enjoy shocking their peers with their cigarettes and their freely-given kisses. He pursues wealthy girls who have a tendency of making scornful declarations like, “It’s so hard to find a male to gratify one’s artistic tastes.”

Moments of growth are all the more harrowing for their brevity. At Princeton, Amory spends his nights alone, wandering the campus. One night, lying in a quad and gazing up at Princeton’s Gothic spires, Amory realizes his own “unimportance…except as the holder of the apostolic succession” and this “idea became personal to him.” This epiphany won’t change his character. In This Side of Paradise, self-knowledge is fleeting and often treated as just momentary anxiety. And despite his resolution to work hard at Princeton, Amory finds there are better things than school; after all, there are parties to attend and debutantes to kiss.

Like many coming-of-age stories, This Side of Paradise is an exploration of youthful folly—both of the protagonist, and in some ways, of the author. It is the immaturity of the author that makes the novel so interesting: it is the work of a young writer circling a message he couldn’t quite articulate, and surprisingly, the novel is all the better for it. In both subject and form, This Side of Paradise is a portrait of youth that is accurate because of its uncertainty—at eighteen, I understood the fragmented impulses of This Side of Paradise much better than the clear-sighted skill of The Great Gatsby.

At eighteen, I knew that Amory was selfish at best and amoral at worst, but he and the other characters in This Side of Paradise possess a candor and glamour that I admired. He constantly worries that Princeton is “conventionalizing” him, that he will “lose his personality;” I thought of my own stifling Catholic high school with chagrin. A girl compliments him on his “keen eyes” and he immediately tries “to make them look even keener;” I thought of my own silly tendency to pose in hopes of catching the attention of handsome strangers. When describing a childhood friend and future love interest, Amory thinks, “She had gone to Baltimore to live, but since then she had developed a past.” I scribbled it in my journal—it was so fitting, I hoped, for the adventure I was about to have. Amory’s downfall seemed to be an avoidable footnote to an otherwise desirable story, perhaps just an accident of the sketchily rendered novel, not at all a natural result of his laziness and egoism.

I won’t lie; part of me still resonates with Amory’s romance and rebellion. I do not regret the nights of college that I spent sneaking onto rooftops, ignoring work to gossip on a friend’s bed, attending parties and leaving parties with boys who soliloquized on Marxism, but who had embarrassing affinities for their fraternities. And I understand now what Amory means when he thinks to himself after leaving Princeton, “I don't want to repeat my innocence. I want the pleasure of losing it again.”

But as I prepare to graduate from college, This Side of Paradise no longer seems like the enticing literary proposal that I believed it to be at eighteen. At twenty-two, only a year younger than Fitzgerald was when he wrote the novel, I think if I were Zelda, I would be wary of my fiancé. For different scenes in This Side of Paradise draw my attention now. When Amory realizes his own unimportance while lying in the middle of a Princeton quad; I remember the nights in the library that I swore I would work harder—next semester. When Amory drops most of his clubs in a sudden fit of apathy; I think of all the activities fairs I skipped, content with just my hour on air at the student radio. And maybe it is just pre-graduation nerves, but when Amory realizes too late that his hardworking friends have “discovered the path he might have followed;” I can’t help but think of that pile of unread books, still growing on my bedside table.

Ruth Marie Landry was an editor for Vector.