#WHEN I CATCH YOU RANROK

[girl-named-matty]

"Nothing has ever changed..."

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

More Than Just a Favor | Sebastian Sallow x Reader One-Shot

I CAN'T BELIEVE I HAVE 100 FOLLOWERS?

Might be a small milestone to some but I only made this blog a little over a month ago so I am just quite surprised, and honored! Thank you to every single one of you who chose to follow my silly little fanfic blog. To celebrate and as a little thank you, I've written a female mc x sebastian one shot for y'all to enjoy <3

Summary: Rumor has it, you're still a virgin. Sebastian intends to find out if the gossip is true.

Words: ~9,300

Tags: Modern AU, Confessions, Smut, First Time, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Sebastian x Female Reader, No Y/N, No Hogwarts House

It started the way most Hogwarts rumors did: with a fragile ego, a loose tongue, and someone who couldn’t keep their mouth shut.

Sebastian wasn’t one to keep track of the latest school gossip. He had better things to do—like beating Ominis at chess, ditching homework, or sneaking off to the Undercroft with you. But this time, he didn’t have much of a choice. This particular rumor wasn’t just background noise; it was everywhere. And it was about you.

Apparently, your ex-boyfriend, the prat Sebastian had barely tolerated even back when you were dating, had let something slip to one of his friends. It wasn’t just an offhanded comment, either. No, he’d told the guy—loudly enough to be overheard in the courtyard—that the two of you broke up because you refused to go past second base with him.

“Six months, and nothing,” the friend had gossiped afterward, his c oice carrying over the sound of students milling about after lunch. “No wonder he’s still bitter.”

From there, the rumor was all anyone could talk about.

“She’s still a virgin?” “You’d think she’d have gotten it out of the way by now.” “Didn’t they date for, like, six months? What was the point?”

The whispering spread like Fiendfyre. Even students who didn’t know you beyond your reputation—the girl who’d saved Hogwarts from Ranrok’s rebellion in fifth year, who seemed fearless in every sense of the word—were weighing in, dissecting your personal life like it was some kind of puzzle to solve.

Of course, it didn’t help that your ex was known for being pissed about the break up. People speculated he’d let the secret slip on purpose, unable to handle the fact that you’d dumped him in the first place. That made the whole thing worse, because now it wasn’t just about you—it was about him and his wounded pride, and the entire school seemed to be picking sides.

Sebastian overheard it for the first time during lunch, sitting at the far end of the Slytherin table. A group of fifth years down the way were giggling, their voices barely low enough to avoid catching the attention of a passing professor.

“Can you believe it?” one girl said, her voice dripping with glee. “Her, of all people?”

“What about her?” her friend asked, clearly out of the loop.

“She’s a virgin!” the first girl whispered, as though it were the most scandalous thing she’d ever heard. “Apparently, that’s why her ex dumped her. Six months together, and she wouldn’t even—”

Sebastian’s fork clattered against his plate, cutting the girl off mid-sentence.

She froze, glancing nervously at him as he slowly pulled the earbud from his right ear. His music—something dark and brooding, of course—cut out as he turned toward her, brown eyes sharp.

“What was that?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

The girl fidgeted with the sleeve of her robe, but her friend wasn’t nearly as cautious.

“You haven’t heard? Her ex said they broke up because she wouldn’t put out,” the friend explained matter-of-factly, not bothering to lower his voice.

Sebastian stared at them as a slow, creeping heat rose in his chest, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he was feeling. Anger? Maybe. Amusement? Possibly. Relief? …Definitely.

Not that he let them know that.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than talk about things that aren’t your business?” he asked, his voice low and even.

The girl fidgeted more visibly now, her face paling. Her friend, however, didn’t seem to share the sense of self-preservation.

“Relax, Sallow,” he said with a smirk, leaning forward conspiratorially. “It’s not like we’re the only ones talking about it. It’s everywhere.”

Sebastian’s dark eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep his temper in check.

“Well, maybe you should be the first ones to shut up about it.

“Alright, alright,” the friend muttered, holding up his hands defensively. “No need to get all defensive. I’m just saying what everyone’s already heard.”

“Right,” Sebastian drawled, his lip curling in disdain as he leaned back slightly, letting his glare linger just long enough to make them uncomfortable. “Because if everyone is doing it then it's totally fine to continue parroting garbage.''

That seemed to do the trick. The pair exchanged nervous glances before muttering half-hearted excuses and scurrying off like rats abandoning a sinking ship.

But of course, it wasn’t just the younger students gossiping. For the rest of the day, he caught snippets of conversations in the corridors, in classrooms, even in the common room that evening. It was everywhere, and no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, his curiosity got the better of him.

That night, he found you in the Undercroft, just like he’d expected.

The moment Sebastian stepped through the arched entrance, the tension in his shoulders eased. The familiar hum of magic in the air wrapped around him like a blanket, muting the noise of the outside world. The Undercroft had always been your shared refuge—a place where the two of you could escape from everything else.

And there you were, sitting on the floor near the far wall, legs crossed with a book resting on your lap. Your back was straight, your expression focused, but the way your shoulders hunched slightly told him everything he needed to know. You weren’t fine.

Sebastian leaned against one of the stone columns, crossing his arms as he watched you for a moment. He could feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy like a storm waiting to break. Part of him didn’t want to say anything, didn’t want to push you when you clearly needed space.

But the other part of him—the louder, more stubborn part, the part that wanted the rumor to be true—refused to stay quiet, because the thought of you being with someone else—being close to someone else—had always tied him up in knots. And your ex? That prat? The six months you’d spent with him had been absolutely torturous for Sebastian.

He’d never told you, of course. He’d plastered on his usual smirk, rolled his eyes every time you mentioned the guy’s name, and thrown in the occasional jab about how you could do better. But every time you left to meet him, every time he’d see the two of you sitting together at meals or laughing in the courtyard, it had felt like a gut punch.

He’d spent more nights than he cared to admit lying awake in the Slytherin dormitory, staring up at the canopy of his bed with his heart pounding and his mind racing. He hated the thought of someone else holding your hand, kissing you, whispering things in your ear that he didn’t dare say aloud.

Not that he should’ve been surprised. Every guy at Hogwarts had pined after you since fifth year. You were fearless, funny, and maddeningly brilliant. You were the one who had charged headfirst into danger when Ranrok threatened everything, the one who’d become a legend among your peers before you even hit sixteen.

And on top of all that, you were beautiful. Not the kind of beauty that demanded attention, but the kind that pulled people in without you even trying. You didn’t seem to realize the effect you had on people, and maybe that’s what made it worse.

Because Sebastian had known, from the moment he met you, that you were going to ruin him.

And now, standing here in the Undercroft, watching you hunch slightly under the weight of a stupid rumor, all those feelings surged to the surface. The relief, the jealousy, the guilt. He wanted the rumor to be true—wanted it to be true so badly that it scared him.

"So..." he start slowly, "You want to talk about it?"

You startled slightly, your head snapping up to meet his gaze. For a moment, you didn’t say anything, your eyes narrowing as if trying to figure out his angle. Then you huffed, snapping your Charms textbook shut and tossing it onto the floor beside you.

“Not really,” you muttered, your tone sharper than usual.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a faint smirk despite the tension in his chest.

“Come on,” he pressed, his voice softer now but still laced with that familiar teasing edge. “It’s me. You can tell me anything."

Your expression darkened as you stood abruptly, brushing dust off your robes. “What’s there to talk about, Sebastian? It’s just a stupid rumor.”

“Is it?” he asked, tilting his head slightly as he watched you pace the length of the room.

You stopped mid-step, your shoulders stiffening before you turned to face him fully. “Yes, it is,” you snapped, your voice rising slightly. “But apparently, the entire school thinks it’s their business now.”

Sebastian studied you carefully, his smirk fading. He could see the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface, the way your hands clenched and unclenched at your sides. This wasn’t like you. You were always so steady, so unshakable, the kind of person who didn’t care what anyone thought. But now? Now you looked… rattled.

“They’re idiots,” he said simply, shrugging one shoulder. “You know that.”

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head as you turned away from him. “Doesn’t stop them from talking, does it?”

Sebastian pushed off the column, closing the distance between you with a few lazy steps. He stopped just a foot or two away, his voice low and careful as he said, “So… is it true?”

You froze, and for a moment, the silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. Then, slowly, crossed defensively over your chest.

"That's not your business, Sebastian."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into something that wasn’t quite a smirk—too soft, too careful—but still undeniably him. He tilted his head, studying you with that infuriatingly patient look he reserved for when he wasn’t ready to let something go.

“Maybe not,” he admitted, his voice quiet but steady. “But you’re my best friend, so I’m making it my business.”

You glared at him, your arms tightening over your chest. “Why? So you can laugh about it like everyone else?”

That stung, more than he wanted to admit. His smirk faltered, his brows knitting together as he took a step closer.

“Come on,” he said, his voice softening. “You know me better than that.”

Your gaze flickered, uncertainty flashing across your face before you looked away, your jaw tightening.

Sebastian let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair as he searched for the right words. He didn’t want to push you, not when you were already on edge, but the knot in his chest refused to loosen.

“Look,” he started, his tone gentler now, “I don’t care what everyone’s are saying. They don’t know you—not really. And whatever your ex said? That just proves how much of a git he is.”

You scoffed, your eyes snapping back to his. “You hated him before this, Sebastian. Don’t act like this is some new revelation.”

“You’re right,” he said, his grin creeping back, though it was tempered by something warmer. “I did hate him. Still do. But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was less fire in the gesture now, as though his words had chipped away at some of the tension in your shoulders.

Sebastian took another step closer, the space between you shrinking until he could see the way your hands trembled as you fidgeted with the fabric of your sleeve. He tilted his head, his eyes meeting yours.

“So,” he said slowly, “you’re not going to deny it?”

You hesitated, your throat working as you swallowed hard. “Why does it matter to you?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and charged. Sebastian’s heart thudded in his chest, the truth clawing at the back of his throat. He could feel it pressing against his ribs, begging to be let out.

But instead, he shrugged, forcing a casual grin. “It doesn’t,” he lied. “I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

“Why not?” you asked, your voice sharper now, defensive.

He hesitated, his grin faltering for a split second before he recovered. “Because it’s you,” he said, his tone quieter now. “You’re… you. Brave, reckless, brilliant—and gorgeous, by the way, not that you ever seem to notice.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked away, clearly caught off guard by the compliment. He couldn't really blame you. Sebastian almost always avoided saying anything that got too close to the truth of his feelings.

But he pressed on, his voice softening further. “You could have anyone you wanted. Hell, half the guys in school are practically lining up for a chance. So yeah, I just assumed…” He trailed off, shrugging again, though the motion felt heavier this time.

“Well, you assumed wrong,” you muttered, shifting your weight awkwardly.

The confirmation leaving your lips had Sebastian’s thoughts grinding to a halt, his mind caught somewhere between relief and confusion.

By principle, Sebastian didn’t care how many people someone had slept with—or if they hadn’t slept with anyone at all. It wasn’t something he judged people for. Hell, he was hardly a paragon of chastity. His own reputation preceded him—half the school whispered about his escapades, and he didn’t exactly go out of his way to deny the rumors. He wore the label of "man whore" like a badge of honor, not because he particularly enjoyed the attention, but because it was easier than letting anyone see the truth.

And the truth was simple: all of it—every fleeting flirtation, every casual hookup, every whispered name—had been nothing more than a distraction. A way to dull the ache of wanting something he could never have.

So when it came to you, his principles fell apart. The selfish, possessive part of him—the part he usually tried to shove into a dark corner of his mind—was pleased. Pleased that you were still untouched. Pleased that he might still have a chance to be your first, and if he had his way, he’d be your only.

He shoved his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t fidget. “Well,” he said softly, his voice dipping into something quieter, something that wasn’t quite teasing but still carried the edge of a grin. “…Good.”

Your head snapped up, your eyes narrowing as you stared at him. “Good?” you repeated, your voice sharp with disbelief.

“Yeah,” he said, his smirk softening into something warmer, something real. “Good. It means you didn’t let that asshole have something he didn’t deserve.”

You blinked at him, clearly caught off guard by his words. For a moment, you just stared, like you were trying to figure him out, to dig past the layers of teasing and bravado to whatever truth lay beneath.

"You're oddly fixated on this." You observed.

Sebastian could feel the truth clawing at him, desperate to be set free, but instead, he forced a shrug, his smirk creeping back into place.

“I'm not fixated,” he lied, though the words tasted bitter on his tongue. “I just think you deserve better than someone like him.”

You rolled your eyes, though the gesture lacked its usual fire. “You’ve been saying that since the day I started dating him.”

“Because it’s true,” Sebastian shot back, his grin widening just enough to show a hint of teeth. “You’re amazing, and he… well, he was decidedly not.”

The faintest smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and Sebastian’s chest tightened at the sight. He would’ve given anything to see that smile directed at him forever.

“Thanks, I guess,” you muttered, though your cheeks were still flushed, and you shifted awkwardly under his gaze.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the air between you thick. Sebastian could feel it—the tension, the weight of everything he wasn’t saying—and he knew, deep down, that this moment was teetering on the edge of something neither of you could take back.

And then, because he couldn’t stop himself, he said, “You know… if you ever wanted to change that status, you could always come to me.”

Your eyes widened, and your mouth fell open slightly as you stared at him, clearly caught off guard. “What?”

He shrugged, trying to keep his tone light even as his heart threatened to pound out of his chest. “I mean, you trust me, right? And I’m…” He paused, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Well, let’s just say I have experience.”

You groaned, "Seb, I really don't want to hear about how you fucked three girls in one night in three separate broom closets, okay? You sexcapades are not exactly my favorite topic."

Sebastian blinked, caught off guard by your blunt response. Then he burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the Undercroft. It wasn’t the reaction you were expecting, apparently, because your glare deepened, but there was a flicker of something softer in your eyes—maybe amusement, maybe exasperation.

“Why not?” he asked, grinning wide, leaning slightly closer. “You don’t find my sexcapades entertaining?”

“No,” you shot back, though your lips twitched like you were fighting a smile. “They’re revolting. And the fact that half the school thinks you’re incapable of keeping it in your pants doesn’t entertain me nor scream trustworthy.”

Sebastian pressed a hand to his chest. “Ouch. Way to attack my character”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks were flushed. “You practically brag about it. You’re always smirking when people bring it up, like it’s some badge of honor.”

“Maybe I’m just giving them what they want,” Sebastian shot back smoothly, his grin softening into something more thoughtful. “You know how people are. They love a good story.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “So you didn’t hook up with three girls in one night?”

Sebastian hesitated, his grin faltering for a split second. “Well, I didn’t say that.”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” you groaned, dragging a hand down your face.

“Okay, okay,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “Yes, I have a bit of a reputation. But let’s be honest—none of it actually matters. It’s not like I care about any of the girls I hook up with.”

You frowned at him, your gaze narrowing. “Then why do it?”

Sebastian blinked. For a moment, his smirk slipped completely, and the air between you grew heavier. But then, just as quickly, he recovered, his lips twitching into that familiar, teasing grin.

“Well,” he started, his tone light but laced with mischief, “it’s better than getting myself off alone in bed ten feet from Ominis, isn’t it?”

Your jaw dropped, and you gawked at him, absolutely dumbfounded. “Sebastian!”

“What?” he said, shrugging innocently, though the grin on his face was anything but. “I’m just saying. Can you imagine?” He raised his voice, mimicking Ominis’s clipped, proper tone. “‘Really, Sebastian? At two in the morning? Some of us enjoy sleep.’”

You stared at him, torn between horror and the urge to laugh, your cheeks burning. “I didn’t need to know that!”

“Sure you did,” he said, clearly pleased with himself. “Now you understand why I’ve had to… broaden my horizons.”

“Broaden your horizons?” you repeated, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “That’s what you’re calling it?”

“Well, what would you call it?” he shot back, his grin widening.

“I’d call it—” You cut yourself off, groaning as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”

Sebastian laughed, the sound warm and rich, and for a moment, it felt like the tension between you had lifted. But then his laughter faded, and he took a step closer, his expression softening into something more serious.

“Look,” he said, his tone quieter now, more honest. “What I’m really trying to say is that if…” He swallowed hard, and for a brief moment, he considered stopping—considered leaving it unsaid. But then he met your eyes, and something in your gaze spurred him on, despite every instinct screaming at him to shut up.

“If you’re planning on… you know, getting it over with,” he forced out, his voice low and uneven, “then I’ll help.”

You blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Help?”

Sebastian nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets to stop them from fidgeting. “Yeah. I’ll… I don’t know. Give you the dirt on whoever you’re thinking about. Tell you if they’re decent, or if they’re just going to make things worse for you.”

Your expression shifted from confusion to something closer to disbelief. “Seb, are you seriously offering to vet potential guys for me?”

“Well, someone has to,” he said, his grin returning, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I mean, let’s face it—your taste hasn’t exactly been stellar so far.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real heat behind the gesture. “Gee, thanks.”

“I’m just saying,” he pressed, leaning slightly closer, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “If you’re going to do this, you might as well make sure it’s with someone who’s not going to screw it up—or worse, brag about it to half the school.”

You stared at him for a long moment, your arms still crossed over your chest. “Why would you even offer that?”

Sebastian hesitated, the mask slipping for a split second as he tried to find the right words.

“Because you’re my best friend,” he said finally, the words tasting both honest and hollow at the same time. “And I don’t want you to regret it.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and charged, and Sebastian felt his heart thudding in his chest. The truth was, it wasn’t just about you. Not entirely. A selfish part of him couldn’t bear the thought of someone else being close to you in a way he wasn’t. Offering to help—offering to vet anyone you might consider—felt like a way to keep some semblance of control over a situation that made his stomach churn.

Because now he had a second chance at this. And if you went through with it, if you let someone else touch you, have you in a way that Sebastian could only dream of, he didn’t know what he’d do.

He told himself it was noble—that he was doing this for your sake, to protect you from making a mistake. But deep down, he knew it was self-serving, a desperate attempt to steer you away from anyone else while he tried to gather the courage to tell you the truth.

“Well, I’m not… planning anything,” you said at length, your voice softer now, almost hesitant.

Sebastian exhaled slowly, the knot in his chest loosening just slightly at your words. He hadn’t realized just how tightly he’d been wound, how much tension he’d been carrying since this stupid rumor started spreading.

“Good,” he said, his tone gentler now, though he couldn’t stop the faint smile that tugged at his lips. “Because honestly? Most of the guys around here are prats. You’d be better off waiting two months until after Hogwarts. At least then you won’t be stuck hearing about it in the Great Hall for weeks.”

You hummed thoughtfully, tilting your head as if considering his words. “And… if you were vetting yourself… would you approve?”

Sebastian froze, his usual quick wit momentarily failing him as his brain scrambled for a response. “I—what?” he stammered, caught entirely off guard. “That’s—that’s not—”

“Well, it’s only fair, isn’t it?” you cut in, your tone light but pointed as you smirked at him. “You were just interrogating me about my sex life. Why shouldn’t I get to turn the tables and question you back?”

Sebastian opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure of how to even begin responding. His mind was racing, caught somewhere between indignation, panic, and the nagging realization that he’d never actually considered it before—but now that he had, the answer was glaringly obvious.

He wouldn’t pass his own vetting.

Not even close.

If the situation were reversed, if someone like him were sniffing around you, Sebastian would shut it down faster than you could blink. He wouldn’t just give a list of reasons why the guy wasn’t good enough for you; he’d give a dissertation.

The reckless streak. The reputation. The countless rumors of broom closet escapades. It didn’t matter that most of them were exaggerated, or that none of it had ever meant anything.

And that wasn’t even scratching the surface. Because beyond the gossip and the bravado and the endless teasing, Sebastian knew himself. He knew the flaws that weren’t just rumors. The impulsiveness. The temper. The way he threw himself into things without thinking, consequences be damned.

If he were vetting himself for you, the answer would be painfully clear: absolutely not.

But here you were, watching him with a raised eyebrow and that infuriating, knowing little smirk, like you were daring him to come up with an answer that didn’t make him look like an idiot.

“Well?” you prompted, your tone light but laced with curiosity. “Would you pass?”

Sebastian cleared his throat, stalling for time as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “That’s… an unfair question,” he said finally.

“Why?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.

“Because you’re not trying to get with me,” Sebastian said, forcing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The words tasted bitter as they left his mouth, like he’d swallowed something he couldn’t spit out.

But then something happened that he didn’t anticipate.

You didn’t respond.

Your mouth opened, as though you were about to say something, but no words came out. Instead, you just stared at him, your eyes wide and searching, your expression unreadable. Slowly, your cheeks began to flush, a deep warmth spreading across your face.

Sebastian froze, his own grin faltering as confusion flickered across his face. “What?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You blinked, quickly snapping your mouth shut, and for a moment, it looked like you might try to play it off. But the blush only deepened, spreading to the tips of your ears as you looked away, fidgeting with the sleeve of your robe.

Sebastian’s stomach flipped. He didn’t know what to make of this—of you.

You, who could go toe-to-toe with him in every argument, every tease, every prank. You, who always seemed so steady, so sure of yourself, now standing there, cheeks aflame and uncharacteristically quiet.

“Wait,” he said slowly, his voice dropping as he stepped closer, his brows furrowing. “What—"

“It's nothing,” you said quickly, your tone higher than usual as you avoided his gaze.

Sebastian blinked, his mind grinding to a halt as he stared at you. Slowly, like puzzle pieces falling into place, the realization began to wash over him.

“Is it?” he asked, his voice quieter now, the teasing edge gone.

You froze. “Sebastian, don’t,” you said softly, but there was no bite to your words—no real protest.

Sebastian’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. It certainly was not nothing.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t agree with me.”

You winced, your cheeks burning even brighter as you finally glanced up at him. “Seb…”

“No, no, hang on,” he said quickly, his mind racing as he took a step closer, his dark eyes locked onto yours. “Are you—wait, are you saying that you would—” He cut himself off, his voice catching in his throat as the weight of the moment hit him. “Bloody hell—"

“Sebastian, please,” you cut in quickly, your voice rising just enough to interrupt him. Your hands flew up as if to stop his words before they could leave his mouth. You were panicking now, trying to salvage the moment, the heat in your cheeks only growing more intense. “It’s not— I didn’t mean— Look, it’s nothing, alright? Just forget I said anything.”

“Forget it?” he repeated, his heart was pounding so loudly in his chest that he was sure you could hear it. “Are you serious? You expect me to just… move on like you didn’t just almost admit—” He stopped himself, swallowing hard, his voice dropping lower. “Like you didn’t just make me think that you might—”

“Sebastian, don’t,” you interrupted, your voice trembling as you took a half-step back. “This is stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“But you didn’t even say anything,” he countered, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took a step closer, closing the distance you were trying to put between you. “You didn’t have to. I saw it on your face.”

You flinched at that, your lips pressing into a thin line as your gaze flickered downward.

“Look at me,” Sebastian said softly, his tone lacking its usual teasing edge. “Please.”

You hesitated, your shoulders tensing, but eventually, you lifted your gaze to meet his. Your eyes were wide, brimming with uncertainty, vulnerability, and something else he couldn’t quite name—but it was enough to make his chest ache.

“Are you serious?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me I’m not imagining this."

You opened your mouth, your throat working as you struggled to find the words. Sebastian thought you might deny it again, that you’d laugh it off and shove him back into the safe, familiar box of your friendship. But then you closed your eyes, exhaling shakily.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you admitted, your voice quiet but steady. “You’re not imagining things. But this… this doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t mean anything?” he repeated, his brows furrowing as the words hit him like a punch to the gut.

“Not like that,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I just mean… it doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Sebastian said, his voice firmer now, more insistent. “And neither am I.”

You blinked at him, startled by the intensity in his tone, and Sebastian felt a flicker of hope spark in his chest.

“Do you know how long I’ve been—” He stopped himself, letting out a shaky laugh as he raked a hand through his hair. "Fuck, I don’t even know where to start.”

“Sebastian...”

“No, listen,” he said, cutting you off as he stepped even closer, his voice dropping into something softer, more vulnerable. “I’ve been driving myself mad for years thinking that I’d have to spend the rest of my life pretending that I’m okay with just being your friend. And now you’re here, blushing like mad, trying to convince me that this doesn’t mean anything, when it’s the only thing I’ve wanted to mean everything.”

The silence that followed was deafening, the air between you crackling with tension so thick it was almost suffocating.

“Tell me I’m not wrong,” he said, his dark eyes locked onto yours. “Tell me that you’ve thought about this, about us. Because if you haven’t, I’ll let it go. I’ll never bring it up again. But if you have…” He trailed off, his chest heaving as he waited for your answer, every nerve in his body on edge.

You stared at him, your lips parted slightly as you struggled to find the words. And then, finally, you let out a shaky breath, your shoulders relaxing as you whispered, “I have.”

Sebastian’s heart stopped.

"So you... you want me?"

You huffed a laugh, your gaze flickering away. "Of course I want you,” you mumbled. “I’ve wanted you since we met."

The world seemed to tilt beneath Sebastian’s feet. His legs felt unsteady, his chest too tight to contain everything that had been bottled up inside him for years. All the late nights he’d spent staring at the canopy of his bed, wishing things were different. All the times he’d watched you smile at him, laugh with him, and ached for something he thought he could never have. And now, here you were, saying the very thing he’d been terrified to let himself hope for.

“Fuck,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair as a shaky laugh escaped him. He felt dazed, like he’d just been hit with a Confundus Charm. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Your brows furrowed, and the corners of your mouth dipped down. “Seb, if you’re about to make a joke—”

Sebastian didn’t let you finish. He closed the distance between you, his hands coming up to gently cradle your face as his lips crashed into yours.

You froze for a split second, caught off guard, but then you melted into him, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as if to anchor yourself.

Sebastian kissed you like his life depended on it, like you were air and he’d been suffocating.

And in that moment, he realized he had been suffocating, drowning in his feelings for you and his fear of ruining everything. But now, with you in his arms, kissing him back like this was where you’d always meant to be, he felt like he could finally breathe.

When he pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours, both of you were breathless. His chest heaved as he tried to steady his breathing, his hands still cupping your face as though he was afraid to let go.

"So... you want me too?" Your voice was small, almost uncertain, like you still couldn’t quite believe it yourself.

He let out a breathless laugh, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “I thought I made that pretty clear,” he said softly, his lips twitching into a small, crooked smile. “But yeah. I want you. I’ve wanted you since… well, since the first time you insulted my dueling form.”

A laugh bubbled out of you, the sound light and shaky, but genuine. “That was years ago.”

“Exactly,” he said, his grin widening.

Your expression shifted. Your eyes, still soft from the kiss, suddenly took on that sharp edge he knew all too well.

He’d seen that look a hundred times before—right before you suggested something outrageous, something that would almost certainly land the two of you in trouble. But this time, it was different. This time, the stakes felt infinitely higher, and Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat as he watched you, holding his breath.

“What?” he asked cautiously.

You leaned back slightly, studying him with that mischievous gleam in your eyes, and Sebastian swore his heart was about to give out.

“Well,” you started slowly, your lips curving into a playful smirk. “If we’re being honest about what we want…”

Sebastian swallowed hard, his hands still resting on your cheeks. “Go on,” he said, though his voice was rough.

Your hands slid down his chest, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you leaned closer. “You said you’d help me if I ever wanted to change my…status,” you said, your voice dropping into something softer, something that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. “Does that offer still stand?”

Sebastian’s breath caught. His eyes widened slightly, searching your face for any sign that you might be joking, but all he saw was that familiar confidence, the same fire that had drawn him to you in the first place.

“You’re not serious,” he said, though his voice wavered, betraying the rush of emotions swirling in his chest—hope, fear, and something that felt dangerously close to pure, unfiltered desire.

You tilted your head, your smirk softening into something gentler, something that made his stomach flip. “Why wouldn’t I be?” you asked quietly.

Sebastian couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. He just stood there, staring at you like he was committing this moment to memory—like he needed to be sure it was real before he dared let himself believe it. Then, slowly, a small, crooked smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Well,” he said, his voice rough but tinged with a teasing lilt, “I’d be an idiot to say no, but..."

"But?"

Sebastian’s voice dropped, softer now, almost hesitant. “But if we do this… I need you to understand something.” His thumbs brushed gently over your cheeks, his gaze searching yours. "I don’t want this to be some casual thing. I don’t want it to be something we joke about tomorrow or pretend never happened."

Your teasing smirk faltered, your expression softening as the weight of his words sank in. “Sebastian…” you started, your voice quieter now, almost uncertain.

“I’m serious,” he interrupted, shaking his head slightly as though to clear his thoughts. "Fuck, I'm in love with you and I want you forever. I want all of you. And I need to know that this is what you want too. Because if we do this—if we cross that line—I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go back. I don’t want to go back. "

Your laugh was soft, shaky, but warm enough to chase away the tension tightening Sebastian’s chest. “Sebastian, you absolute idiot,” you said, your voice a mix of amusement and affection. “I love you too. You already had my forever."

Sebastian froze. You loved him. You loved him.

With a low, broken sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan, he pulled you to him, his lips crashing against yours.

"Then yes," he said against your lips, "The offer still stands."

His lips crashing into yours, Sebastian backed you up slowly until you pressed against the cool, rough surface of the wall. His hands slid down your sides, his touch warm and firm, before they found your thighs. With a low, breathless groan, he lifted you, his fingers curling around the soft flesh beneath your skirt. The warmth of your skin against his palms made his head spin, and a shaky moan escaped his lips as he pressed you tighter against him.

He was in heaven. After so much imagining, so many stolen glances and sleepless nights spent wanting this—wanting you—he finally got to touch you, hold you, have you. And the way you clung to him, your legs wrapping around his waist as your hands tangled in his hair, only made it better. Perfect, even.

Your kisses were desperate, almost frantic, and every press of your lips, every flick of your tongue sent fire racing through his veins. When you broke away from his mouth, trailing kisses along his jaw before latching onto the sensitive skin of his neck, he let out a deep, shuddering breath, his head tipping back slightly to give you more access.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice low and hoarse as your teeth grazed his skin. “You’re driving me mad.”

You didn’t stop, didn’t so much as pause, as you nipped at his neck, your lips soothing the sting with soft kisses before you sucked gently, leaving faint marks in your wake. Your hands slid down to his chest, tugging at the buttons of his shirt, and Sebastian could only chuckle breathlessly, his voice rough with want.

“Impatient, are we?” he teased, though his own hands were just as restless, roaming your thighs and hips like he couldn’t get enough of you.

“Shut up,” you muttered, your tone sharp but breathless as you finally yanked the fabric apart, buttons clattering to the floor.

Sebastian’s hands tightened on your thighs, his arousal growing almost unbearable as you continued your assault on his senses. His breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and he knew he couldn’t take much more of this—of you.

With a low, frustrated growl, he pulled back slightly, carrying you to one of the worn-out couches in the corner. The cushions creaked under your combined weight as he set you down gently, his body covering yours as he leaned over you, his hands braced on either side of your head.

For a moment, he just looked at you, his dark eyes roaming your face as though committing every detail to memory, because you were a vision, and the fact that you were here, with him, looking at him like he was the only thing that mattered, nearly undid him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his voice soft but filled with reverence.

Your lips parted slightly, a faint, breathless laugh escaping as you reached up to cup his cheek. “You’re not so bad yourself."

Sebastian huffed a laugh, and his lips found their way back to your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin with a newfound urgency. His hands slid along your sides, his fingers skimming the fabric of your sweater until they found the hem. He paused for just a moment, giving you a chance to stop him, but when you arched into him, your silent permission, he tugged the material upward.

The sweater caught slightly as he pulled it over your head, and you laughed softly, the sound muffled by the fabric. “Impatient are we?” you mocked breathlessly as he tossed the garment aside.

“Can you blame me?” he shot back, his voice low and gravelly as his hands immediately found your waist again, sliding up to palm you over your bra. His fingers curled around the soft fabric, thumbs brushing over the lace, and his breath hitched when you let out a soft, barely audible moan at the contact.

“Fuck,” Sebastian muttered, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he squeezed gently, his touch reverent, almost hesitant. “You’re perfect. I’ve thought about this so many times, and it doesn’t even come close to—” He broke off, his words dissolving into a groan as you arched into him again, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“You think too much,” you murmured, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear as your hands found their way to his chest, exploring the warm, firm planes of muscle beneath your fingers. “Just feel.”

Sebastian let out a soft laugh, though it was shaky and tinged with desperation as he pressed a kiss to your collarbone. “Oh, believe me,” he said, his voice rough, “I’m feeling plenty.”

His lips trailed lower, down the column of your neck and across your chest, lingering just above the edge of your bra. His hands slid around your back, fumbling slightly as he searched for the clasp, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his eagerness.

“Need some help?” you teased, though your voice was just as breathless as his.

“Shut it,” he grumbled, though there was no real heat in his tone. When he finally managed to unhook it, the fabric loosened, and Sebastian pulled it away slowly, almost reverently, his eyes darkening as they roamed over you.

“God,” he whispered, his voice barely audible as he cupped you in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your bare skin. “You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

Your cheeks flushed under his gaze, but before you could respond, his mouth was on you, hot and insistent. His lips and tongue worked in tandem, drawing soft gasps and whimpers from you that only spurred him on. His hands explored every inch of you, mapping out the curves and dips of your body like he was committing them to memory.

And Merlin, you were just as eager, your hands slipping down his back, your nails grazing his skin as you tugged him closer, your legs wrapping around his waist once more. Every touch, every kiss, every breath shared between you was electric, setting your nerves alight and leaving you both trembling with need.

“Sebastian,” you murmured, his name a plea on your lips as you arched into him, your hands tugging at the waistband of his trousers.

He groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he tried to steady himself, his breathing ragged. “You’re going to kill me,” he muttered, though the grin tugging at his lips betrayed the heat and affection swirling in his chest.

“Then die happy,” you shot back, your hands working to unbutton his trousers

Sebastian’s laugh was low and breathless, his hands momentarily leaving your body as he stood to slide the the fabric down his legs, and he decided that if this was the end, if you were the last thing he ever got to hold, he would die the happiest man alive.

His hands trembled slightly as they found your hips, his fingers curling around the waistband of your skirt. Slowly, almost reverently, he began to tug the fabric down, revealing more of you with each passing second.

His heart thundered in his chest when the fabric slid past your thighs, pooling at your knees before he finally discarded it onto the floor. Now, with both of you stripped down to nothing but your underwear, the reality of the moment hit him like a lightning strike.

His arousal, already insistent, became nearly unbearable, straining against the fabric of his boxers as his gaze swept over you. Splayed out on the worn couch, your hair spilled like a halo across the cushions, your chest rising and falling with each shallow breath, and every inch of you seemed to beckon him closer. The taut peaks of your breasts, flushed and bare to him, drew his attention, sending a sharp pang of need coursing through him. Your kiss-bruised lips, slightly swollen and parted, were enough to leave him breathless, but it was the way your thighs pressed together, your hips shifting slightly, and the soft flush painting your skin that nearly broke his restraint.

You squirmed under his gaze, your cheeks burning a lovely pink that traveled down to your neck, and Sebastian was certain he’d never seen anything more stunning in his life.

Sebastian sank down onto the couch, hovering over you once more, his arms braced on either side of your head as he took in every detail of your expression. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might break through his ribs. But when his eyes met yours, he faltered.

There, just beneath the heat and want in your gaze, was a flicker of something softer—nerves, apprehension.

This was your first time.

The gravity of it settled heavily on his chest all over again, eclipsing the raw desire that had been driving him just seconds ago. As much as he wanted to let his instincts take over, to lose himself in the sheer need coursing through him, he knew he couldn’t—he wouldn’t—rush this.

He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, one hand coming up to gently cradle your face. The tenderness of the gesture seemed to soothe the tension in your body, and he felt you relax slightly beneath him.

“We don’t have to do this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice soft and steady. “If you’re not ready—if you need more time—just say the word, and we’ll stop. No questions, no pressure. I mean it.”

Your lips parted as you stared up at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Your hands slid up to rest on his shoulders. “I want this,” you said, your voice quiet but sure. “I’m ready, Seb. I trust you.”

Sebastian closed his eyes briefly, exhaling slowly as relief and affection washed over him. When he opened them again, his gaze was softer, his brow furrowed slightly as he studied you. “If I do something you don’t like,” he said gently, “or if you change your mind at any point, just tell me. Promise me.”

“I promise."

Sebastian nodded, his lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. “Alright,” he murmured, leaning down to press a feather-light kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips before he shifted back. After sliding your thong down your legs, his hands reached for your knees, his fingers curling around them as he gently urged your legs apart. His touch was firm but careful, like he was holding something fragile and precious.

When his gaze dropped to the space between your thighs, a low, guttural groan escaped him, unbidden. He braced himself with one hand on your knee, the other sliding along your inner thigh as though drawn there by instinct.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.

“Seb…” you murmured, your voice trembling as you reached for him, your fingers brushing against his forearm.

He met your gaze, his expression softening as he smiled—a small, lopsided grin that carried all the affection and adoration he couldn’t put into words. “I’ve got you,” he said softly, his hand sliding to your hip as he settled between your legs. “I promise, I’ve got you.”

Sebastian leaned forward again, his hands framing your hips as he lowered himself over you. He felt your trembling hands move to the waistband of his boxers, your fingers brushing against his skin. He bit his lip, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he tried to keep his composure.

When you tugged gently, his hands left your body for just a moment as he helped slide the fabric down, discarding it carelessly onto the floor. He knelt there for a second, his heart pounding as he hovered above you, watching your reaction like it was the only thing that mattered.

The moment your gaze dropped, your breath caught audibly, your lips parting in surprise. Your eyes widened slightly before the surprise gave way to something deeper, something that made the heat in his chest bloom into something all-encompassing. The desire in your expression, raw and unguarded, left him completely undone.

Sebastian felt his face flush, a lopsided, slightly nervous smile tugging at his lips as he watched you take him in. “You alright?” he asked softly.

You swallowed hard, your eyes flicking back up to meet his, and he saw a glimmer of shyness there—so unlike the confident, unshakable version of you the rest of the world knew. “I’m... you're so..." he watched you swallow hard, hesitant yet heavy with want.

“I’m what?” he asked softly, his voice low and rough. He leaned closer, his fingers brushing against your hip, his touch warm and grounding. “Come on, sweetheart, don’t leave me hanging now.”

You swallowed again, your chest rising and falling with shallow, unsteady breaths. “You’re so big, I— will it hurt?"

Sebastian’s breath hitched at your words, a wave of satisfaction and desire crashing through him, leaving his heart pounding and his arousal almost unbearable. The raw honesty in your voice, the uncertainty paired with the compliment, made his chest ache with a mixture of pride and tenderness.

Still, the flicker of apprehension in your gaze snapped him back to the gravity of the moment. He couldn’t let the intensity of his need overpower what mattered most: you.

He exhaled slowly, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze.

“It might,” he admitted softly, his voice low and steady. “It might hurt a little at first. But I promise you, I’ll go slow—so slow—and I’ll stop the second you want me to. You just have to tell me, okay?”

Your lips parted slightly, your breath trembling as you nodded. “Okay."

“You’re everything to me,” he murmured, his thumb brushing gently over your hip. “I swear, I’ll take care of you. I won’t let it be anything but good for you.”

You gave him a small, shaky smile, your fingers curling around the back of his neck to pull him closer. “I know."

Sebastian let out a shaky breath, his forehead resting briefly against yours as he reached down to position himself at your entrance. His hand trembled slightly—not from hesitation, but from the sheer weight of the moment, the overwhelming intensity of finally being this close to you, of having you completely. His eyes flicked up to meet yours one last time, searching for any trace of doubt.

“Breathe, love,” he whispered, his voice soft and soothing as he pressed a tender kiss to your cheek. “I’ve got you.”

You nodded, your hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders, your fingers curling into his skin as you drew him closer.

With infinite care, Sebastian began to press forward, his body taut with restraint as he eased himself into you. The moment he felt your warmth enveloping him, tight and slick and impossibly perfect, a low, guttural groan tore from his chest, his head dropping to your shoulder.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice rough and breathless as he stilled, giving you time to adjust. “You feel… you feel so good. So fucking good.”

Your breath hitched, a soft gasp escaping your lips as your body stretched to accommodate him. There was a slight pinch at first, an ache that made you tense momentarily, but Sebastian’s hands were there, grounding you, one cradling your hip while the other brushed soothing circles against your thigh.

“Easy,” he murmured, his voice laced with both tenderness and the barest hint of desperation. “Just breathe, sweetheart. You’re doing so well.”

You nodded, exhaling shakily as you focused on his voice, his touch, the warmth of his body pressing against yours. Slowly, the discomfort began to fade, replaced by something deeper, something warmer.

Sebastian felt the change, the way your body softened beneath him, the way your fingers gripped his shoulders less tightly. He pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there as he began to move again, inching deeper with agonizing slowness.

“You’re so tight,” he muttered, his voice thick with awe and desire. “So warm. Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Your soft whimper in response had his restraint fraying at the edges and he fought to keep his movements measured. Every inch of you wrapped around him like a vice, and the heat and wetness of you was enough to drive him to the brink of madness.

“Sebastian,” you breathed, his name a plea on your lips as your hands slid up to tangle in his hair. “You can… you can move.”

He groaned softly, lifting his head to look at you. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice tight as he forced himself to hold still, his entire body trembling with the effort.

“Yes,” you whispered, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. “I’m ready.”

With a shaky exhale, Sebastian nodded, his hands tightening on your hips as he began rocking into you with slow, deliberate strokes. The sensation was overwhelming—your body clinging to him, so snug and impossibly warm, every movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through him.

“Fuck,” he muttered again, his head dropping to rest against yours as he found a rhythm, each thrust measured and careful, ensuring you had time to adjust.

Your soft moans and the way your body responded to him only spurred him on, his movements growing just a fraction deeper, more deliberate, as he let himself sink further into you. The way you arched beneath him, the way your nails grazed his skin, made his restraint fray further, but he forced himself to hold on. This was about you—making sure you felt safe, cherished, and utterly adored.

“Tell me how it feels,” he murmured, his voice rough but laced with affection as his lips brushed against your ear. “I need to know you’re okay.”

“It’s… it’s good,” you whispered, your voice trembling but full of warmth. “Better than good. You feel amazing, Seb.”

The sincerity in your voice made his chest tighten, his heart pounding as he pressed a series of soft, reverent kisses along your jaw. “You’re amazing,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re everything.”

And as he continued, his movements slow and deliberate, Sebastian let himself savor every moment, every sound, every touch, etching the memory into his soul, and he swore he’d spend the rest of his life making sure you knew just how deeply he cherished you.

Gryffindor Divider Credit Support Divider Credit

[moonstruckmoony]

MCtober2024 - Introduce your MC!

I'm well aware I'm one week behind but this is literally the earliest I could finish this.. (moony crawling from the depths of irl problems) lol better late than never right? I'll try my best to catch up! · · ─────── ·❄ ❅ ❆· ─────── · · Winter Blackstone A 6th-year Ravenclaw, Winter Blackstone is quite the name at Hogwarts—mainly because she enrolled very late, took down a troll on her first day (as one does), and is known to mysteriously disappear between classes. Where to? Only Merlin knows. She’s also credited with helping stop Ranrok’s plans, though how big of a role she played remains a bit of a mystery to the students.

Winter’s mother, a Slytherin and skilled Curse-Breaker, tragically passed away when Winter was just 9 years old. Her father, though a Squib, is deeply knowledgeable about the wizarding world and has ensured Winter never felt out of place when it came to magic.

FAVORITE / HATED SUBJECTS? Winter’s top subjects are Potions, Ancient Runes, and Magical Theory—no surprises there for a curious Ravenclaw. But if you ask her about Arithmancy? That’s where you’ll hear a groan. While the concept and the theory behind it intrigues her, she absolutely avoids anything to do with numbers.

“I’m already so late to the world of magic, and now I’ve got to deal with numbers too? No, thank you!” she’s often heard saying. Yet, despite her complaints, Ominis constantly reminds her that she’s never scored a P, D, or T in Arithmancy—something he can’t say about his Potions work.

Her favorite professors? None other than Dinah Hecat, Aesop Sharp, and of course, the late Eleazar Fig.

SCHOOL CLUB Because of her late admission, Winter has little time for clubs—though she makes an exception for Crossed Wands. It’s the perfect way for her to sharpen her dueling skills, and she relishes every moment. PETS Winter has two cherished companions: Khione, her Barn Owl, and Snowball, her playful white golden retriever. Snowball was a gift from her father when she was 11, meant to lift her spirits after she didn’t receive her Hogwarts letter, leading her to believe she was a Squib. Little did she know, her letter would come at age 15, changing everything. Thanks to Professor Fig, she was given a nab-sack to sneak Snowball to Hogwarts, keeping him close even in her busy schedule. After a bit of help from Sirona at the Three Broomsticks following the troll attack, Snowball found a cozy spot to stay while Winter was in class. But when Professor Weasley introduced her to the Room of Requirement—well, Snowball ended up with a far more magical home within Hogwarts! Naturally, that little secret is kept under wraps. HOBBIES Winter has a passion for cooking, especially dishes from all around the world. As a child, she traveled extensively with her mother due to her mother’s unique Curse-Breaking work. Everywhere they went, Winter was enchanted by the local cuisine, jotting down recipes and experimenting when she got home. Now, in Hogwarts, she often recreates dishes like baozi, frikadeller, paella, oyakodon, and to Amit’s delight—Indian curry.

She frequently invites her friends to the Room of Requirement for her culinary experiments and is always on the lookout for rare ingredients. Thanks to her mother’s connections scattered in different parts of the world, Winter manages to have specific ingredients occasionally sent to her via owl.

[athenajr]

chemtrails over the country club ☆ sebastian sallow x f!reader

summary: you and sebastian have always understood each other better than anyone else.

a/n: based on chemtrails over the country club by lana del rey!

warnings: none i think, just a lot of fluff + you and seb have lots of unresolved trauma, mc is a flirt

i’m on the run, with you my sweet love, there’s nothing wrong contemplating god, under the chemtrails over the country club

running through the highlands to fight goblins with sebastian shouldn’t have you feeling this exhilarated. fighting ranrok’s loyalists fills you both with a sense of purpose. yours being the final end goal of saving the wizarding world from another war, and sebastian’s being to get his revenge for anne.

no, fighting loyalists or poachers with anyone else didn’t excite you as much as it did with sebastian, because there was so much more to it for both of you. sebastian had introduced you to the world of duelling, and had practiced with you in the undercroft, poring over books and different wand movements.

“you coming y/n?” sebastian was standing a few feet ahead of you, and pulled you out of your thoughts as he questioned you.

his brown hair was tousled from the wind and the running, and his freckled cheeks were slightly pink. he looked like an angel, and you never wanted to look away.

“right behind you seb, you know your legs are longer than mine.” you smiled at him and jogged to catch up with him.

“race you to the next encampment love!”

you laughed as he started running ahead of you, shaking your head at his childish antics. yes, running with sebastian was definitely better than with anyone else.

meet you for coffee, at the elementary school, we laugh about nothing as the summer gets cool

the summer after you defeated ranrok, sebastian had disappeared to his (now empty) cottage in feldcroft. only you and ominis knew he was there, and that he had been doing yard work around the village all summer to make some money. ominis was still wary of being his friend, but you couldn’t just stay away. his sad face hadn’t left your mind since you had left hogwarts on the last day of term, and it was getting impossible to not run to him.

you had exchanged a few letters throughout july, just checking up on each other, making sure the other was staying out of trouble and getting enough to eat. you were staying in a room at the three broomsticks, courtesy of sirona ryan, and working a few days a week.

as august approached, it was getting harder and harder to stay away from him, so one day you told sirona that you were taking a week off to go stay with him. she was more than okay with it, and insisted you bring along some butterbeer to share.

sending him a short letter via owl, you packed your bag and took the nearest floo flame to feldcroft.

when you arrived in feldcroft, it didn’t take you long to spot him, as he was outside of his house chopping fire wood. your breath hitched as you looked at him, slightly sweaty, and definitely more muscular. his freckles were painted across his skin even more prominent with a summer tan.

“sebastian!” you called out to him, lugging your trunk with you as you crossed the path to his house.

his head shot up when he heard your voice, and the most genuine smile you had seen since the catacombs spread across his face.

he dropped his axe and ran to you, wrapping his arms around you and burying his head in your neck.

“i missed you so much.” his voice was thick, and you pulled away from him to cup his face in your hands.

“i missed you too sebastian, more than you know.” his arms didn’t leave your waist as he smiled down at you. after staring at each other for a few more seconds, he snapped out of his gaze and came to his senses.

“here let me get your trunk for you. i’ll bring it into the house and we can catch up.” he lifted your heavy trunk onto his shoulder with ease, and you had to restrain yourself from drooling at his display of strength.

once you had unpacked your things, you and sebastian sat down with your butterbeer from sirona.

“tell me everything you’ve been doing this past month seb, i’ve been so busy working at the three broomsticks i barely have time to write to anybody!”

so the night went on as you both talked and shared quiet laughs in the orange light of the sallow cottage, happy to be back in each others presence again.

i’m not bored or unhappy, i’m still so strange and wild, you’re in the wind, i’m in the water, nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter, watching the chemtrails over the country club

4 days had passed since you had arrived at the sallow cottage, and with each passing day, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the amount of feelings you had for the boy. you both had thrown around a fair few compliments and flirtatious remarks at each other throughout the week, and you decided that you could do this with him for the rest of your life. making breakfast together in the kitchen, walks around the trails near the village, and rolling around in the flowery meadows, pointing out different clouds and what they looked like.

it was all getting very domestic, and you were going to go crazy if by the end of the week you were still just friends.

today is the day you decided. the shameless flirting was already at an all time high, and you decided that today you were going to kick it up a notch.

sitting at a small table in the front yard of the house, you were watching him pull weeds out of the garden, his white shirt sleeves rolled up showing off his strong forearms.

“hey sebastian?”

he turned to look at you, wiping a few beads of sweat of his forehead. “yes love?”

“nothing, i just think you look very handsome today.” it was bold- you knew that, but you were past the point of caring. you knew no one else could ever make you feel how he made you feel.

he was blushing when you looked at him, a small smile on his face. he brushed his hands on his trousers and came to sit down beside you at the small table.

“you think so? because i think i’m covered in dirt and sweat and desperately need a bath.” he chuckled and his thigh brushed yours under the table.

“need any help with that?” you flirted, as you rested your hand on your cheek and leaned up to look at him through your lashes.

the flush on his face deepens, and he has to look away from your gaze or he just might explode.

“you are a terrible flirt, do you know that?” his voice is low but his eyes are swimming with a softness he saved only for you. “this whole week, i don’t think i’ve ever been more flustered.”

before you can open your mouth to retort, sebastian leans down and captures your lips with his. it’s soft and hesitant, and your shocked at first, but quickly throw your arms around his neck and kiss him back deeply. the kiss is needy and desperate, something that you both know should have happened a long time ago.

when you both pulled away for a breath, sebastian’s hand stayed in your hair at the back of your neck, and his forehead was pressed against yours.

“i’ve wanted to do that for so long, you have no idea.” he breathed.

“how long?” you asked him breathlessly, as you fought the urge to just kiss him again as much as you could.

“honestly? since you bested me in that duel at the beginning of the year. and pretty much any other time we were alone after that.”

“so you’re telling me we could’ve been doing that this whole time!?” you joked and he laughed heartily.

“we have all the time in the world to make up for it now love, don’t you worry.”

you gave him a loving smile, and leaned up to give him a soft peck on the lips. he smiled at you as your hand came up to rest on his muscular chest.

“why don’t we go run you a bath, and you can show me just how much you’ve wanted to do to me since that duel..”

sebastian didn’t need to be told twice as he grabbed your hand and all but dragged you into the house, shutting the door behind him quickly as possible.

the sound of your laughter filled the house as you both ran to get the bathing supplies.

yes, you both may have some unresolved issues, but as long as you were together, you knew you could get through it.

it’s never too late, baby, so don’t give up… under the chemtrails over the country club

[btsbabe7]

Coffee Beans (love you a latte)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: After a sudden breakup, you find yourself reuniting with your estranged best friend over lattes in a small coffee shop.

Sebastian sits next to you in the corner of a tiny coffee shop in London, his lanky frame barely filling out the spine of the chair. His fingertips tap against the burning porcelain cup nestled between his palms, the steam curling from the top of the cup in a ghastly swirl. He stares down at it in a sleepy daze, perplexed about why he’s here after you’d successful banished him for six months for the sake of your Gryffindor boyfriend, Garreth Weasley.

The silver-charmed bell nailed to the worn door of the tucked away coffee shop had ding-donged upon your arrival, coming to a halt seconds after the warmth of late Spring rolled in with you. Sebastian hadn’t as much as uttered a hello when you’d greeted him at the edge of the sticky counter upon your arrival in your own tone of weariness. He had barely glanced at you to take in your new shoulder length curls and freshly cut bangs, nor the healing of the scar left behind on the right side of your neck after your battle with Ranrok. The battle had been a year ago. The hair cut, only a couple days old. Surely he’d noticed your fading scar in the passings in the corridors or when he’d catch Garreth consoling you after a long day during dinner in the Great Hall. But he hated it, you know he hates it all.

“Seb—“ you whisper, starting slow, softly.

“Does he know you’re here?” He interrupts, eyes low and focused on the frothy milk overlaying his coffee.

You sputter softly, attempting to swallow a scoff, but knowing the question is valid. You’re the one that stopped hanging out with Sebastian. It felt appropriate once you realized Garreth’s request wasn’t entirely unreasonable.

The smell of freshly poured coffee beans and the humming of the expresso machine pulls your attention for a moment. The distant clinking of a spoon hitting the wall of a porcelain cup, the tear of a sugar packet or two, the frothing sound of whipped cream topping a to-go order, a soft piano melody flowing throughout the space. You think of Garreth alone in his dorm right now, using the quiet to think up whatever scenarios that ransack his brain whenever you two part.

“He doesn’t.”

A smug smirk appears on the corner of his lips, then falls back into a pensive pout. He shuffles in his seat, slowly opening up to you, chest coming into view first. His eyes roam over the empty tables beyond you, then you as if they’ve waited years to do so, and your shoulders shrink in relief.

Gazing back at him, you can’t believe you’d actually gone a full minute without engaging with your best friend. You must’ve been cursed to have gone a full six months with no contact, aside from passings in the hallway and the Great Hall. In the realization of it all, you’re thankful he hasn’t changed, not one bit, and you’re eager to pick up where you’d left off. At least in this moment, you believe you are.

“What’s my mortal enemy up to this time, if not courting you over breakfast? You two snog so much over morning pumpkin juice that the thought alone makes me want to hurl.”

Your cheeks burn hot at the thought of Sebastian seeing you kiss Garreth—watching, so much that it bothers him, haunts his thoughts and makes him sick to his stomach when he’s not even around.

“Garreth’s Garreth… You know, concocting strange inventions and attempting to find subjects to test them on. But that’s not why you agreed to come, not to speak about him...”

“I still don’t understand it all,” he starts. “He knows I’ve been in your life long before you saved that damned school. We were the best of friends, closer than Ominis and I. That was a threat to him and he deliberately complained that I was trying to steal you from him. Why?”

You avoid his eyes, once again knowing he’s right. Yet, Sebastian always manages to dismiss the events leading up to the main issue.

“Seb—“

He takes a long sip of his latte and readjusts, leaning back against the spine of the rattan chair before meeting your eyes again.

“Sebastian, he saw you kiss me…”

His cheeks turn as red as the cherry tomatoes in his uncle’s garden back in Feldcroft. As the realization settles in, there’s a long silence between the two of you. Had Sebastian not kissed you knowing you were still dating Garreth at the time, you wouldn’t have had to wedge so much distance. His excuse of drinking too much Butterbeer wasn’t a good enough explanation and Garreth had given you the ultimatum. You’d never seen him so upset. And as much as you wanted to defend Sebastian, your best friend, he was being reckless, jealous and territorial over something that didn’t belong to him. Even you couldn’t hide from that truth.

“I don’t regret it,” he says curtly, words cutting through your thoughts like a freshly sharpened dagger. “I would’ve kissed you a hundred times more had you not carved me out. Garreth doesn’t know you. He wasn’t there. He was working on dumb potions and those damned trick jellybeans while you and I were out there in the real world. Fighting goblins, trying to find a cure for Anne, piecing together Isidora’s triptych... We were risking our lives while he dallied around playing games. He’s never put his life on the line for you, Y/n.”

You scoff loudly, cheeks burning as hot as the untouched cup in front of you. You hate that he’s right every single time, but that means nothing right now. You liked Garreth. You loved his immaturity, his view of seeing some things in life differently. He showed you that everything didn’t always need to be taken seriously and Sebastian didn’t respect it.

“After Ranrok, Garreth was there.”

“Damn right he was,” Sebastian curses. “He was there like the rest, groveling at your feet after you’d saved the entire school. Everyone showered you in false love and compliments. I’ve loved you from the start.”

Your heart wrenches.

Not once has Sebastian admitted to loving you, ever. There were hints, signs. He was around so much that he’d practically become your shadow. He’s become more familiar than the lines on your palms or the spells you’d practiced endlessly into perfection. Your partnership in Crossed Wands and helping him find a cure for his sister had turned into a quickly blossoming friendship. You’d even found yourself thinking of him late at night when you should’ve been focused on planning for the doom that crawled closer— Rookwood, Ranrok, untamable ancient magic, the list could go on and on, but all you could think about was Sebastian Sallow.

A part of you was relieved when he’d asked you to dance at Natty’s party; you needed a moment away from Garreth, a moment to breathe. Though, you never expected Sebastian to take your breath away. You still remember the heavy smell of spiked Butterbeer on his lips, the sweet, thick taste of butterscotch and the scent of burnt timber lingering between you two. He’d been practicing Confringo again in the Undercroft beforehand. And the kiss felt like a dream, pulling everything you’d ever felt about him into a neat package with a shiny green bow. You just hadn’t expected Garreth to see it. And when he did, he knew Sebastian had to go, even if it killed you.

“We broke up,” you finally find the courage to speak.

That’s the reason you’d sent your white-feathered owl, Nora, to Sebastian two nights ago. Two days more without him felt like an eternity and you weren’t sure he’d show after all this time. You’d only hoped.

“I’m not surprised. You wouldn’t be here had it not happened, you’re too loyal. Maybe my tiny presence in your life of seeing you in passings has become too unbearable. He’d have me exiled if it were up to him.”

“I mean… I broke up with him. Six months was too long, Sebastian, and you didn’t even try to weasel your way back in. You just—you just let me go. You made it look so easy.”

“Easy!? Have I not suffered enough? Put myself on the line for you so many times? And need I remind you, you chose Weasley over me? That was your doing, Y/n,” he rants. “Looks can be deceiving, but I knew you’d come back. That’s what happens to the things we lose that are meant to be. And in those six months, I suffered, endlessly. Ominis could hardly stand my sulking much more before Nora showed with your letter. To think, all the times he told me I should admit how I felt, even during those six months, I didn’t listen. I didn’t want to ruin your perfect relationship with Garreth, or rather, I couldn’t. You would’ve hated me. I’m stubborn like you’ve said before, but I know, truly, that I’ve loved you and I still do now. No dumbwitted Gryffindor can change that.”

You can’t take it anymore, the racing of your heart, the heaviness of abandoning him. You couldn’t be with Garreth when your heart and soul craved Sebastian. You broke Garreth’s heart to be here, but that was something you could live with. Abandoning Sebastian wasn’t. It pulled and tugged at you in the worst and best of times. It haunted you when you were alone, when you were kissing Garreth, when he’d stay the night to cuddle in your dorm. Your mind had always gone back to the reckless, brown eyed, freckle faced Slytherin right in front of you.

“I love you too, you know?” You mutter nonchalantly, hoping the words don’t go straight to his skull. “I think it was destined to happen, the day we met… when we dueled in Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

He smiles charmingly, attempting to hold back a smirk and a teasing laugh at the distant memory. Because why wouldn’t you have fallen for him? His sarcasm, charms, and good looks were always there.

“I really knew when you opened up to me about your sister,” you continue. “When you realized you could do the important things without me, yet you still wanted me there. Even when it went against your best friend or your better judgment. You allowed me to see you, all of you. All the good and bad, Sebastian, and I love every single part of you.”

Sebastian’s eyes meet yours again, heavy, tired, and holding back tears. He’s missed you more than you’ll ever know, probably more than you missed him since you had Garreth to fill the void. Your voice, he missed the most. Your laughter, your deadpan humor and crappy puns. He missed the way you smelled, some muggle perfume you’d spritz yourself with in the mornings that made you smell of fresh flowers, a charm followed that you’d found in a book to make it last all day. He missed the way your skin and hair glistened in the moonlight when you’d both sneak out to fly broomsticks to Hogsmeade for a Butterbeer or two while the others slept. He missed practicing in the Undercroft with you, and Ominis lecturing him on the way back to the dorms about how he could feel the love in the air. He missed the warmth of you lying your head in his lap to vent to him under the old beech tree near Black Lake. He’d fallen in love with the sight of golden speckles reflecting in your irises when the branches began to sway just right with the breeze, exposing your features to the sun’s rays. He missed your smile, your lips, the way you’d tie your robe at your waist instead of wearing it. He missed and loved all of you. And he can’t fight the urge anymore. The heaviness of his own heart won’t let him, not with you this close, and not knowing that you’re no longer accounted for.

“We should get out of here, others might report back that you’ve gotten over your heartbreak rather quickly. Wouldn’t want that getting back to that poor Gryffindor of yours.”

“He’s not mine anymore,” you grumble and pinch Sebastian’s arm with a giggle. “But you’re right, we should go.”

“You still have that Room of Requirement? I think a single bed will suffice.”

You roll your eyes, holding back a giggle at his obviousness.

“We’ll go to my dorm first,” you reply before pecking a quick kiss on the corner of his lips that leaves his cheeks blushing. “Then, we’ll see if we truly require the room.”

He takes your hand in his right and leads you out of the tiny coffee shop. The silver bell ding dongs against the door once more, ushering you both into the warmth of spring. And with a smile on his face, he’s ready to apparate anywhere in the world, as long as you promise to remain by his side.

Please be sure to check out my other latest fics:

⚡︎ November Prompt Challenge (days 1-30)

⚡︎ For You Always - reader x Snape

~ Navi: masterlist (all fandoms)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction, but please don’t copy! Written purely for fun :) Please only repost to other socials w/my permission and credit! Reblogging w/credit is fine. Thank you! ♡

[galaxiasgreen]

📚🐦‍🔥Stay With Me

Slow burn Garreth x F!Reader romcom-mystery [T-Rated, 5.6k words]

You don't meet his eye. "I've prepared you some questions, for this... tutorship." You unbuckle your satchel and take out not one, not two, but four rolls of parchment, one for each subject, and slide them across the table. "It's simple multiple-choice so I can figure out how much you know. It won't take you long to do." He stares at them, open-mouthed. "You've set me homework?"

Garreth Weasley is good at Potions… and not much else. You, a bookish, lonesome Ravenclaw with a weighted family secret, are good at everything… except Potions. Assigned together for a mutual tutorship, Garreth is sure he won’t meet anyone more boring.

But the potions lab isn’t the only place where sparks will fly.

Tropes: romance/ humour/ drama, slow burn, fluff, tutoring together, grumpy x sunshine, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, pining, love triangle, dark secret, sworn off love, Everyone Can See It.

[NEXT][read on AO3, read on Wattpad]

A/N: Just to note, in this story Garreth and others fought Ranrok with MC. Enjoy!

1. A Mutual Tutorship

He calls you Prim, mostly because you hate it.

It's not a nickname Garreth gives you for fun (though make no mistake, he loves to tease you with it). No, it's a nickname that's descriptive, deriving from your most cardinal trait. Prim, because you are. Prim and proper and academically minded. Meanwhile he's never had an aptitude for learning, preferring the freedom of exploration over the rigid structure of curriculum.

On paper, you seem like a match made in hell – but in practice? Well, he's always up for a challenge.

He doesn't get to meet you, though, until the dawn of his sixth year, when easy classes and free periods for the exam-weary older students are over. He doesn't even meet you on the day he first hears of you.

Back then, you were merely an illicit suggestion.

"I'm worried about you, Garreth."

He sinks into the chair in Professor Weasley's office. He's been here so many times now it practically feels like a second home, mostly for, ahem, disciplinary reasons, but there are the rare moments when his aunt calls him in for a quick catch-up, tea and biscuits, sometimes to discuss family news – a great grand-uncle dying or one of his cousins announcing a betrothal.

When the professor called him in this time, two days into the term, he thought maybe his parents were expanding their gnome collection and she wanted him to advise against it (there is such a thing as too many gnomes, and it's any number more than zero). Or maybe his sister Clara needed help adjusting to the school – she's a first year now, after all.

So it's like the rug is yanked from under him when she asks about his grades.

"It's two days into the autumn term, Auntie," he says, not prepared to have this conversation so soon. "What's there to worry about? I haven't even had all my N.E.W.T. classes yet."

"That's exactly what I wanted to discuss with you. You have so much potential, Garreth. You are incredibly bright and passionate, and I know you are capable of so much, but your O.W.L. scores left a lot to be desired, and I worry that you won't be able to handle the workload this year."

"Don't know if you remember," he says airily, "but I practically saved Hogwarts—"

"Yes, yes, last year in the caverns below with your friends, I know, Garreth. I was there." Her lips bunch. "But no school-saving antics will boost your grades. Your heroics are the only reason you don't have to repeat your O.W.L.s, and you won't have such an opportunity this time around."

He drops his head on the back of the chair, groaning. Imagine stopping a whole goblin rebellion... and still having to write history essays. He literally made history.

"Your father suggested something I actually like," she says, drawing Garreth's eyes back down. "It seems you need some motivation, and I know you work well when you're with your friends. Therefore he suggested you pair with someone. A mutual tutorship, if you will."

"You want to give me a study buddy?"

"Yes! Oh, I do like that phrasing much better."

"You can phrase it any way you want. Still wipes."

"Garreth..."

"Come off it, Auntie. What are they gonna' do? Sit with me doing every piece of homework I have? And I didn't flop at everything. I got an Outstanding in Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Which were your only top grades, half of which because Hecat saw fit to reward your capabilities against Ranrok last summer," she remarks shortly, taking a piece of parchment. "You don't need a study buddy for those subjects. You do, however, need one for History of Magic, Astronomy, Divination and," she stares meaningfully over the rim of her spectacles, "Transfiguration."

He grins sheepishly. "As it happens, I know someone who's great at it?"

She sighs, putting the parchment aside and dropping into her chair. "I know you want to become a potioneer, Garreth, but even the most famous potioneers are well-rounded individuals and excelled in subjects outside of their specialty. Look at Professor Sharp! He was an Auror!"

"Okay, I get it, I get it." All this talk depresses him – all this knowing that he's a problem depresses him. "I promise I did try. I just— find revising very hard and demotivating. And you know, the whole saving-the-world thing..."

Professor Weasley gives him the look.

"I made it to N.E.W.T. classes, didn't I? I'll try this year, I will. You don't have to get me a... study buddy."

"Oh, but I think I do, and as it were, I happen to know the perfect student to match with you. A very bright young lady one year your junior, a Ravenclaw. She excels in all her subjects" – she pauses – "except Potions."

"So you want me to teach her Potions," he clarifies, "and her to teach me everything else?"

"That's right."

"Doesn't seem fair."

"I think you'll find it will be." She makes a knowing face that he doesn't like. "So, what do you say? Want to give it a try?"

"... Can I say no?"

"No."

He sighs. "Brilliant."

His schedule's already packed with classes and homework, now that his education's ramped up for sixth year, and he mulls on the extra work a mutual tutorship will bring for the next few days. Explaining it is even more difficult, when he has to tell Leander he's missing Quidditch for this.

"A study buddy?" he scoffs, as they lounge in the Gryffindor common room after classes that day. "Sounds right horrid."

"Tell me about it."

"Who're you pairing with? Do you know?"

"No idea. A Ravenclaw in the year below, apparently."

"A younger swot? Merlin's pelvis, couldn't she have put you with, I don't know, Amit? Or Everett? If she wanted a Ravenclaw?"

Garreth slouches. The sofas are so comfortable he doesn't want to move. "Bet she knew if she put me with either of them we'd get no work done, Everett because he'd be too busy trying to prank me, Amit because he'd be wasting time describing irrelevant extra stuff."

"Oh, no," Leander panics suddenly, "if this works then she might start doing it to all of us. I don't want a study buddy!"

"Relax. It's only because I'm her nephew that she's testing it with me."

He's sure his aunt wouldn't care quite so much if the same blood didn't run through their veins. After all, she has no children of her own – so Garreth and his sister are the closest she'll get. All her motherly affection, and motherly reprimand too, goes to them.

So when he gets the owl on Sunday afternoon to meet promptly in the library during lunch the next day, he sucks in his gut and resolves to at least try and have fun with it. He likes meeting new people, even if he doesn't like the circumstances – maybe he'll get along with the new Ravenclaw. Maybe they won't be as boring as he suspects.

He heads to the library the next day – late, mind, because he didn't particularly feel like rushing from Charms – and spots Professor Weasley waiting by the front desk.

That's the first time he sets his eyes on you.

Waiting placidly at his aunt's side, you're perfectly put together, not a hair out of place. Your waistcoat is straight, your long skirt starched, your shirt tucked in and top button done. You hold your books in your hand – because of course you do – and the satchel draped over your shoulder bulges with more of them.

You're the picture of a prim Ravenclaw student.

And it fills him with misery.

"Hello, hello," he says to you both, "sorry I'm late." Not.

You purse your lips, like you can detect his lie, but say nothing as his aunt gives him an admonishing glare. "That you are, Garreth. Did I not say you were to be prompt?"

"I grabbed some extra parchment, Professor," he makes sure to use her epithet in the presence of other students, "because I didn't know if I would need it."

By the way her brow loosens, it was a good lie. "All right. Come along, I've reserved a table for you both."

He decides to introduce himself to you on the way upstairs. "Nice to meet you."

You introduce yourself as well, but it's clear by your aloof eyes that you were also roped into this arrangement. "Nice to meet you as well," you repeat awkwardly, voice high with tension.

Turns out, Professor Weasley reserved an entire table, right at the back of the top floor. It seems unnecessary, the isolation, how you've obviously been coerced.

"Now, your proper sessions will take place after classes finish for the day, so for now I believe getting to know one another's style of learning would be most prudent." Professor Weasley ushers you to two seats next to each other. "I'll be sitting over there to keep an eye on you. Madam Scribner has given you both permission to have a quiet chat, so why not break the ice?"

It feels so forced Garreth would prefer to get a Howler right now, but under his aunt's stringent gaze, he plops onto the chair and tosses his bag under the seat. You draw out the seat gracefully, fold yourself upon it, and gently place your satchel, then books, on the table. There is method, he realises, to your movements.

"So..." he claps his hand awkwardly. "Where are you from?"

You clam up immediately, and he doesn't know why that's the wrong thing to ask, but he backtracks.

"Sorry, I mean – you know, where do you live?"

Your frown is still pronounced, but some relief breaths free. "London. You?"

"Devon."

"Right. I've never been there."

"It's nice. Except in the winter. Then the sea air is like murder."

Silence. He has a feeling he'll have to nudge all conversations, which is simply brilliant.

"Have any family?"

"Just my parents. They— they used to live in Asia, before coming here." You shift. "You? I mean, besides the professor."

"How much time do you have?" When you don't answer, he tugs his collar. Tough crowd. "Er, I have a younger sister. Clara, she's called. She's just started her first year. Little menace. Was hoping she wouldn't be Sorted into Gryffindor, but I guess it runs in the Weasley blood. Then there's my cousins, but there's so many that if I named them all you'd miss all your afternoon classes. Hey, maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing?"

You don't even crack a smile. This will be a long, painful conversation.

"Why don't we get started then?" he suggests instead, because the faster he does this, the faster he can leave. "I mean, discussing what we're meant to be, er, learning together? Shouldn't take very long for you if you're only failing Potions."

Your cheeks bloat. "I'm not failing. I just... need a little boost."

Touchy. Okay.

"Well, I'm not afraid to admit I'm failing."

"Yes," you say, and you list on your fingers as you go. "Transfiguration, History of Magic, Divination, and Astronomy. That's four subjects."

"Hey, last year it was five, but luckily I managed to wrangle a Kneazle before it bit Professor Howin, so she bumped up my grade." He's still quite proud of that moment. You make an unimpressed face. "What? You should be grateful we don't have collect Flobberworm mucus together."

"Okay, well, I've prepared you some tasks to complete."

His amusement drains like pus from a Bubotuber.

"What."

It's a statement of disbelief so sheer he doesn't even accompany it with the tonal flick of a question.

You don't meet his eye. "I've prepared you some questions, for this... tutorship." You unbuckle your satchel and take out not one, not two, but four rolls of parchment, one for each subject, and slide them across the table. "It's simple multiple-choice so I can figure out how much you know. It won't take you long to do."

He stares at them, open-mouthed.

"You've set me homework?"

"It's not homework."

"It's work that I have to do in my own time. It's homework."

Your lip curls in displeasure. "Like I said, if I'm going to tutor you, I need to know how much you already know. Then I can incorporate it into my lesson plan."

"Your lesson plan?"

"How else are we going to know what to cover per session?" you ask, bewildered. "You must have something planned for me, right?"

Of course he doesn't. He was just going to give you potions to brew and point out where you'd gone wrong. He rakes a hand through his hair, thinking about whether he could get away pretending to have a stomach/ head/ knee/ butt ache.

"If you don't want to do it later," you say, "you can do it now. Then I can be prepared for our first official session."

How about I run and never look back? With his aunt's watchful gaze on his back, he reluctantly unfurls the first scroll. Transfiguration. You hand him a quill and inkwell and he surfs through, ticking the answers he thinks are right.

"You're not even reading the questions."

"Am too."

"Glancing your eyes over words isn't the same as reading."

Oh, Merlin, you will be the death of him. Sniffing indignantly, he slows down, actually taking time to read the questions. How many exceptions are there to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration? He tries the rest, though not very hard, because just reading this stupid parchment has left him perplexed, and hands the scroll to you when he finishes.

He's halfway through puzzling when Geminis are born for the Divination quiz – he guesses February – before you roll his parchment up again.

"So? What's the verdict?"

You can't control the grimace on your face, and it's all he needs to know.

He's a total shambles. A failure.

"It's not— unsalvageable," you say hastily, your expression flattening. "But we have a lot of work to do."

He drops his head onto the table so loudly Madam Scribner yells "SSSHHH!" from the floor below.

When he's completed all your scrolls and falsely promises to make a list of things for your Potions O.W.L.s, you collect your belongings, slotting each book and scroll into its rightful place in your bag, give a quick word to his aunt in thanks and leave without goodbye. The whole exchange was about twenty minutes but to Garreth felt like twenty years. He tromps up to Professor Weasley in utter disbelief – and despairs in the way her grin unfurls.

"I told you it would be a fair exchange."

"She's made me homework, Auntie!"

"SSSHHH!" Scribner yells.

"Sorry!" he squeaks over the bannister. "Homework, Auntie. And— lesson plans. She told me I was practically unsalvageable!"

"I definitely heard not unsalvageable, Garreth."

"You can't be serious with this girl."

But Professor Weasley simply pets his shoulder.

"Your future is at stake here, Garreth. It's about time you start taking it seriously. She will help you. You will help each other."

But he really doubts it.

He waits for you outside of the Ravenclaw common room entrance for your first session later that week.

Dread roils through him as he leans against the bannister. Two hours of this, thrice a week, when he could be doing literally anything else. Quidditch has started again – which his aunt has barred him from playing due to his grades – but he could at least watch the Gryffindors practice, watch Leander and Eric Northcott toss Quaffles between them.

He's never had a mind for anything that doesn't interest him. History, divining the stars – both approaches. Even turning butterflies into bells doesn't capture his attention the same way potions do. There's just something about the way you can play loose and fast with the rules, with the ingredients, with the measurements, with the method, that delights his curiosity.

He wiggles his arm so it doesn't go to sleep. He's been to the Ravenclaw common room a few times, usually with Amit – for when they need to get back at Everett for catching them with a dungbomb. Unfortunately it means he's well acquainted with the eagle knocker.

"Honestly, Mr Weasley," it enunciates with that high and mighty tone, "if you sulk any harder and your expression will stick permanently to your face."

"Know from experience, do you?"

It doesn't bother to grace that with a response.

"What quandary plagues you so?"

"I'm doing a study buddy programme."

The knocker toots – literally, like a trumpet. "Hundreds of years I have guarded this tower, and never have I heard something so funny!"

"You could be more sympathetic."

"For the boy who thought it would be funny to tickle my nose with a feather when I was asleep? I think not!"

"I didn't think you had a nose!"

The door swings open then, and you step out. Prim, proper, picturesque. You startle at the sight of him.

"I thought we were to meet in the library."

"I was passing by, thought I'd come up and walk with you."

Suspicion flutters through your eyes. "Why?"

"What do you mean, why?"

"Why would you want to walk with me?"

He blinks. Is he being stupid, or has he missed something? "Er, because it's a nice thing to do, and if I have to waste six hours of my life on this mutual tutorship every week then I should at least get to know you better."

"I see."

Something not quite as strong as displeasure edges your voice, but you fall into step with him – not missing the way he makes a rude face at the knocker on the way downstairs.

"Look, I'll be honest," he begins, "I don't like this arrangement any more than you do, but I'm naturally pre-disposed to not taking anything too seriously, so even if we have to endure revision together, we can at least try to have a good time with it. Sound fair?"

You don't answer immediately. "What's the catch?"

"What? No catch. I just don't want to be totally glum each time I see you."

Something flashes across your expression, but it's too fleeting to identify it. "All right, that's... understandable."

"Great."

Conversation is stilted, however, even when you get to the library. You don't immediately warm to him, which is odd, because he's very used to people immediately falling for his magnanimous charms. You pull out your notebook – a timetable neatly journaled into the opening page – as he dumps out his parchment and quills.

"Since our sessions cover six hours per week," you say, "I thought we could work on your subjects for four of them, and then two hours on Potions for me."

"Right, fine." Sounds positively wretched. "My aunt's got Sharp's permission to use the potions laboratory this Friday, so I guess we can do it then."

"The potions laboratory?"

"Yeah. What? Did you think we could do Potions work without... potions?"

"Shouldn't we focus on the written portion?"

He frowns. "The written portion of the Potions O.W.L. is tiny. Like, miniscule. And boring."

You draw yourself up. "I don't find it boring. The essays are the best part."

Oh dear Merlin. "Well, sorry to disappoint you, but the majority of your Potions O.W.L. depends on actual potion-making." He grins. "Why? Scared, are you?"

"Why would I be scared?"

"You seem keen not to do it. Don't tell me you have some tragic backstory involving an exploding cauldron."

"No," you grind out. "I just... don't have a natural affinity for it like I do all my other subjects."

"That must've been really hard for you to accept."

He's teasing, but your face sours. Wow, you really are a tough crowd.

"Let's start. History of Magic."

This is one of those subjects he needs to know for his career choice – potioneers are expected to understand the history behind advancements in potion-making, after all – but Professor Binns makes it near-impossible to derive any sort of interest in the subject. The first topic of the year, the disbandment of the Wizards' Council in 1707, is already so dull Garreth can feel himself melting into the floor the moment the ghost opens his mouth.

"Now, I've already started the essay about the tumult of the Ministry of Magic's early years." You pull out a roll of parchment. "If we compare the key argument points—"

"Wait," he says, holding up his hand, "what do you mean, you've started the essay?"

"The essay that Binns set."

"You're doing N.E.W.T. level classes?"

"I'm doing N.E.W.T. level homework," you correct. "The professors assign it to me and I work on it with my regular homework."

"How do you have time to eat? Or sleep?"

You shrug. It's all so easy to you. You probably dream of your textbooks. It's so boggling.

"As I was saying," you continue, "we ought to start by comparing the points we've both made for the essay."

He just can't fathom it. Is there any point getting to know you when your spare time is dedicated to nothing but grades and studying? How can anyone be so academically good at (almost) everything, take on extra work, agree to tutor a frankly hopeless student... and still find time to enjoy other things?

"Right, yes, comparing essay points," he mumbles. "Sounds good."

Then again, he thinks, when neither of you move, and your eyes begin to narrow, you don't seem like the type of person to enjoy anything.

"You haven't started the essay yet, have you?"

"... Does a sphinx speak in riddles?"

You groan.

The first Potions session that Friday is a fun one – because now he gets to test you, watch you squirm and sweat. After the painful four hours together, scribbling theory for Divination and star charts for Astronomy, it's finally time to show what he can do. You're always so put together, so  he wants to see how bad you are, see what it is that justifies asking for his help in the first place.

Professor Sharp is waiting in the potions laboratory when you both arrive, seated at his desk marking homework.

Garreth grins. "All right, Professor?"

His expression curdles exponentially. "I trust I don't have to keep one eye on you for the entire two hours, Mr Weasley?"

"'Course not, sir. I'm only here to supervise my charge. In fact, you could say I'm the professor here."

"That doesn't fill me with much more confidence," Sharp mutters, then flicks his quill. "I've prepared the one on the left. Work quietly, please."

You seem nonplussed when Garreth steers you to the potions station. "Do you have a... reputation?"

"Don't know what you mean."

"You must do, by the professor's tone. You're a— miscreant."

"I'm a creative," he corrects. "Professor Sharp just doesn't appreciate my artistry."

"I can hear you, Mr Weasley."

"See? No appreciation whatsoever."

He gave you a list of ingredients to bring, and as he lights the fire beneath the cauldron, you sort them on the table – a bezoar in a mortar, mistletoe berries tied together with twine, Mooncalf tears in a phial. He notices you spend an inordinate amount of time placing them in neat, agreeable piles, rather than, you know, starting the actual potion-making, and he tucks this information away.

"Right, so, today I thought you could brew the antidote to common poisons."

"Antidote," you say stiffly. "Common poisons."

"That's what I said."

"Isn't that a third year subject?"

"It is." He smiles devilishly. "But we're going to do it with a twist."

Your brow furrows. "You're supposed to teach me relevant things, Garreth."

"You'll be lucky I'm not adding my own spin on it. No, just a simple improvement to up the ante. We're going make sure our potion can also act as an antidote to spider venom."

"Spider venom?" Your hand reaches for the textbook, but Garreth palms it away. "But— I need the recipe."

"You won't get the full recipe in your O.W.L. exams. You only get a list of ingredients and vague instructions. But it's better to learn by doing, and you will be expected to understand how the property of each ingredient affects the potion." He gestures. "Shall we begin?"

Your lips are flat as you fill the cauldron with standard potioning water – two pints of it, until it bubbles nicely over the flames. You know the first step by heart, which is to crush the bezoar into a fine powder and add four measures. Good start. With each of his thorough explanations, you fidget, uncomfortable.

"Why not just feed someone a bezoar? It works, doesn't it?"

"Why do we extract essence of dittany instead of just nibbling on the stem? Because combined with other ingredients the potion is more powerful. A bezoar wouldn't work against more virulent spider venom on its own, but it will in the potion we're brewing, because its healing properties are enhanced. Also, have you tried shoving that whole thing in your gob? Tastes rank."

"Wait," you say suddenly. "I need to write this down."

"The tastes rank part, or shoving in your gob part?"

You ignore him, grabbing your quill and scribbling furiously.

"Watch your cauldron. It's bubbling over."

You squeak, dropping the quill and stirring. A sheen of sweat coats your forehead, which is pretty hilarious. You've only just started.

"What's the next step?" he asks.

Your eyes skim the ingredients, frantic. "Erm... Mooncalf tears?"

"Try again." When you grimace, he says, "Begins with Stuh. Ends with andard ingredient."

You glare at him. "This doesn't make sense. Why add that now?"

"It's a stabilising agent. It emulsifies the ingredients together."

"Like eggs in a cake," you murmur, which surprises him. "But we've only added the bezoar to the water. What's there to stabilise?"

"Bezoars don't dissolve in water, and this will help the ingredients we add next."

He can see your frustration. Suddenly it makes sense why you hate Potions so much. You don't understand the science behind it – ironic, for someone who seems so methodical, and so proficient at other more technical subjects like Transfiguration. You pour the herbs into the brew, watching cautiously as the liquid thickens and changes colour from grimy brown to forest green, and notes of saltiness waft into the air.

"Good." The potion isn't looking too bad – maybe a little too green, but not unworkable. "Now, what next?"

"... Mooncalf tears?"

"Nope. You need to desaturate the brew."

"So turn up the heat?" He gives a firm nod. "For how long?"

"Well, you've added standard ingredient, which acts as a thickening agent already, and bezoar powder burns easily, even in water. Do you think much heat should be applied?"

"... Maybe?"

"Bet your examiner would love that answer."

You scowl. "Just tell me."

"Bring it to simmer," he instructs. "But only for a few minutes. For the aforementioned reasons."

After you write this down, you nudge another piece of wood into the fire pit below, then adjust the knob for heat. After a few moments, the bubbles pop ferociously on the surface. He watches you watching it, transfixed, eyebrows sloping in intense concentration. It's clear you desperately want this to work – but something holds you back, whether it's just disinterest in the subject or not. You lower the heat after three minutes, leaning back.

"Now do we add the Mooncalf tears?"

He laughs. "Merlin's beard, you're desperate to get those tears in. No, now you wave your wand and let it stew. Do you know for how long?"

"I remember this," you say. "It was about thirty minutes."

"Are you sure?"

"Well now I'm not."

His grin only grows. "What type of cauldron are you using?"

"Pewter."

"How will that affect the time?"

"Isn't pewter less conducive of magical properties than the others, and therefore makes brewing time slower?"

"I don't know. Is it?"

"Garreth."

"Yes, you're right," he says. "You're a right laugh, you know."

"You're not," you remark tersely. "So it stews for more time then?"

"Probably about forty-five minutes, though I reckon with how you bunged all the standard ingredient in, it'll probably need a few minutes more. We'll eyeball it."

You squeak. "We can't— eyeball it!"

"'Course we can. When it's reduced enough, we'll take it off the heat."

Still, it's about a fifty-minute wait, and unfortunately you decide to get him back for all the fun he's having by asking how his History of Magic essay is going (... it's not). Even Professor Sharp laughs when he stumps at the first bullet point.

When the fifty minutes slog by (and they do slog – probably because Garreth dies a little with each legislative policy he has to know by name), you check the potion again. The water has boiled down to a gooey liquid, half the size it was before, and the colour has deepened.

"Now you have ground unicorn horn to add. This is where it gets interesting." His voice dances with glee, but you look like you'd rather get punched in the face. "The recipe for the regular antidote calls for a pinch of unicorn horn, then two clockwise stirs. But to work against a more potent poison like spider venom, you need at least two pinches, and double the number of stirs, to let everything combine."

You hunch over your unicorn horn powder. "Are you sure this isn't one of your creative exploits?"

"Hand on heart, this is all by-the-book," he says, then calls out, "In fact, I should really get some house points for it!"

"Don't hold your breath," Sharp calls back.

Garreth winks at you. "Worth a try, right?"

Your brow drops in exasperation.

Still, you follow his next instructions carefully. Two pinches of unicorn horn powder, then four stirs of the cauldron, and it hisses and pops as the powder melts into the solution. Finally you add two mistletoe berries, careful to keep the toxic leaves away, and wave your wand to finish. It's as expected – not bad for someone who claims to struggle at the subject, though he had to coach you through most of it.

"So... how do we know if the potion works?"

"Funny you should ask." Garreth reaches for his bag. "I have a spider I keep in a jar—"

You scrabble away at once. "What?" you shriek – it's the first explosive emotion he's seen from you. "No, no, no—"

"Merlin, that was a joke! 'Course I don't have a spider in my bag!"

Your shoulders drop. Your expression storms.

"Not. Funny."

But he giggles. "Come on. That was kind of funny."

"You really are a miscreant."

"Not a fan of spiders, are you?"

"They're detestable." You shudder, crossing your arms. "I don't know how anyone can stand the creatures."

"I think they're kind of cute. You know, in an ugly sort of way."

You step back to the station, gesturing with your chin to the potion again. "So? How do you know if we succeeded?"

"Colour, consistency, smell. Is it teal? Yes. Is it thick, and the bottom of the cauldron is only visible when you scrape it with a spoon? Yes. Does it smell like Graphorn dung?" He sniffs. Winces. "Oh yeah."

"How do you know what Graphorn dung smells like?"

"You don't want to know." (It involved Everett, naturally.) "So, with all those factors, we can safely say the potion was a resounding success. Huzzah!"

Yet you don't seem particularly pleased. He's not sure why, given that his aunt implied you were so poor at the subject even a mediocre brew was unthinkable. But maybe your bar to success is much higher than his. He helped you a lot, after all – maybe you'll only consider these tutoring sessions a win if you manage to brew an entire potion by yourself, without his ogling over your shoulder. Without someone literally telling you what to do.

And if that's what you want, okay. He's happy to help. The quicker you pick up these potions lessons, the quicker he is freed of your prickly company.

"Wait," you say suddenly, "what were the Mooncalf tears for?"

"Oh, those?" He chuckles. "They're not for anything. They're just to bamboozle you."

Your glare is potent enough to set him on fire.

"I am trying to learn here, and you fooling around is not helping."

"Who says this isn't helping? You'll never forget Mooncalf tears aren't in the antidote now, will you?"

"But— that's—!" You let out a groan. "You're being insufferable."

He just laughs harder. "You're so prim, it's hilarious."

"If wanting to learn things the proper way makes me prim, so be it."

"The proper way? Oh ho ho, no. There's no proper way."

"Written study is the proper way."

He leans on the potions station, grinning villainously. "Then I'll prove to you that it's not all about textbooks and words on a page. You're going to learn so hard you won't know what hit you. You'll see."

Your raise your chin, derision clear.

"Very well then, Garreth."

"All righty then, Prim."

He sees how it digs. "What? Don't— don't call me that!"

"Only calling you what you are, Prim."

When the session ends, he agrees to start that essay – or at least think about starting it – and you agree to review your notes for the antidote, but no matter how many times you remind him of your real name, he teases you with the moniker until you part ways. Unfortunately for you, insufferable doesn't quite have the same ring to it, and you wouldn't dare deign to his level of immaturity.

So at the end of the first week, you still call him Garreth.

And he calls you Prim.

[NEXT] [Divider credit, gorgeous art by Lyworth]

[soupwoopsage]

I’d Love Nothing More

pairing: sebastian sallow x reader

summary: it’s the beginning of your 7th year, your final year at hogwarts and the future starts to seem a bit scary. you and sebastian have a talk about your feelings that leads to a little something more

warnings: fluff :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“sebastian! there you are!” you say excitedly seeing your best friend walking out of the defense against the dark arts tower

“there you are y/n” he says back with a small smile “did you need me for something?”

“i was going to ask you how you fared in your first day of classes” you said walking right up to the curly headed man

“not bad, and you?”

“pretty boring” you giggle while grabbing his hand

“come with me, i found us a good table in the library to look at our schedules together. Ominis should be meeting us there” you say guiding him towards the library

as you were walking up the spiral staircase inside the library, towards your designated table you realize that you are still holding sebastian’s hand…and you have been for the entire walk there…

you blush slightly and let go of his hand “i didn’t realize i was still holding your hand, sorry…” you apologize

“i didn’t mind at all” he says giving you a smirk

you look at him with a shy smile and go to put your bag onto the table

“i wonder when ominis is going to get here…” you say wondering where the blonde haired boy may be

“what, is my company not enough?” sebastian asks while ploping himself down on a seat

“your company is more than enough, trust me” you say sitting right next to him

“oh is it now? i’ll be sure to keep that in mind” he says, leaning back into the chair with his arms behind his head

you and sebastian have had an unspoken connection ever since you first arrived your fifth year. After all that has happened with Ranrok, professor Fig, and Anne, it didn’t seem appropriate for you two to start a relationship right away. You were both going through a loss and many mixed emotions to even realize that you two wanted to be together. It took about all of your sixth year together to fully heal from some wounds, with the help of ominis of course. The three of you were practically inseparable but there was always something between you and sebastian that just hasn’t been brought up yet.

You always had the thought of bringing it up whenever you two were together, and now that it’s your final year you want nothing more than to talk about your feelings with him.

It’s hard to tell how he feels about the situation, one moment he is flirting with you until your ears turn completely red and the next moment it’s “you are my best friend” and nothing more…

you look at sebastian and study his features

he’s leaning back on the chair with his eyes closed, sighing dramatically and rocking slightly back and fourth on his foot. you watch him lovingly, not realizing you are hardcore staring at him and yeah, he definitely feels the burning of your eyes.

“like what you see?” he asks before opening his eyes and catching you in the act

you turn away quickly and cough awkwardly

“oh come on I’m just teasing” he says putting his chair fully on the ground, leaning towards you

“i like that you stare at me. makes me feel worth looking at” he admits, smiling at you

you turn back to him, coming face to face with his brown eyes

“maybe i do like what i see” you say boldly, keeping your focus on his eyes

now he’s the one that feels shy, his cheeks getting hot as he stares into your eyes

“what am I going to do without you? surely we are to end up in the same place after hogwarts, right?” he says in a serious tone

you shake your head and look down at your bag “you don’t mean that, i can see you and ominis going somewhere together but-“

“i’m serious y/n, i don’t think i want to ever be apart from you” he admits still looking at you

you move your face back towards him again and shake your head no

“sebastian i don’t think you are serious” you say, not believing what he is telling you

“why would i lie to you y/n? when have i ever lied to you about my feelings” he continues

it was true, after these past few years the two of you have told each other everything. sebastian has never lied to you and has always been there to listen to you as well. It was pretty obvious to everyone around you that there is something there, the two of you just haven’t admitted it yet.

he wants to be where I am?

“and what exactly are your feelings?” you ask, readying yourself to have the conversation. it’s been a long time coming and you felt as if you wanted to pour your heart out right then and there

“my feelings? i feel like you already know…” he trails off

“but i want to hear it from you” you press, now looking at him intently

“well i know i want to be where you are, especially after we finish our final exams from here. I just know that i need to be where you are so i know you’re safe”

he rambles on, now looking down at the table

“i know it’s taken a long time to say anything but, it’s just been so hard with everything that has happened. If you want me to admit my feelings to you now then I will. I want to be with you y/n” he admits, still looking down at the table

“i’ve been waiting for long to hear that” you say, moving your hand towards his, grabbing it into your own

“sebastian i have felt something inside of me for so long, and i never knew when it would be the right time to say it but i feel like i don’t ever want to leave your side either. we have been through so much together and i just know that wherever you are, i want to be as well. but not just as your friend sebastian, as more” you admit, staring at your hands intertwining together

“this has turned into quite the serious conversation” he says jokingly, smiling at you

you look up at him and roll your eyes in a playful manner

“i dont think ominis is showing up any time soon” sebastian points out looking around you two “will you come with me?” he asks, tugging at your hands

“of course, where are we going?” you ask as he pulls you out of your chair

“somewhere away from peering eyes” he says guiding you out of the library and in the direction of the undercroft

you blush as he holds your hand through the halls, getting glances from other students standing around

he stands confident and even greets some friends, tugging you gently behind him. it made you feel good that he wasn’t trying to hide the two of you from everyone else

he guides you to the front of the undercroft and gains access for the both of you to walk in

“sebastian why are we coming here?” you ask, confused why he had to take you away from the library

“so i could do this” he says stopping in his tracks, turning around quickly and pushing you gently on the wall behind you

you close your eyes quickly, instantly understanding what was about to happen as soon as he had you against the wall

you feel his mouth hovering over your lips which has you screaming for him to hurry up inside of your head

“is this what you want y/n?” he asks in a low tone, still hovering over your lips

“more than anything” you admit in a whisper

finally you feel his lips, crashing into your passionately. you never felt such heat rise up to your face like that, but oh was it incredible.

there was so much passion and love radiating off you both, it was almost suffocating how amazing you felt in that moment.

soon he pulls away slowly, staring into your eyes breathlessly

“that’s what i wanted too” he says, still inches away from your face

you smile up at him, noticing that your hands made their way up to his hair where they were interlocked with his curls

“sebastian? y/n?” you hear ominis’ voice call out to you two and you both quickly pull away out of shock

“we are right here!” you say out loud to him, helping him guide himself over to you

“i searched for you two in the library” he says walking up to the both of you

“sorry we thought you weren’t coming, so we came down here” you say to him, walking a little closer

“so you come down here to do unspeakable things to each other?” ominis says with a slight grin

“wha-“ you look at him in shock

sebastian let’s out a laugh and walks towards you, putting his arm around your shoulder holding you close

“not that we were doing anything ‘unspeakable’ ominis, but i think i’m allowed to kiss my girlfriend when i want” he says with a smirk

“oh do spare me the details i really don’t want to know” ominis says turning around

“let’s go back to the library we still have things to do” he says walking towards the exit

“girlfriend huh?” you say looking up at sebastian

“if that’s alright with you” he says walking forward with you still under his arm

“i’d love nothing more” you say giving him a quick peck on the cheek as the two of you walk out of the undercroft

[thatsoanjie]

The Weight of Anger

Sebastian Sallow x reader

[spoilers, obviously]

Summary : Sebastian doesn't exactly see eye to eye with you on goblins... can he be reasoned with?

WC : 779 (short drabble)

Notes : No warnings! This closely ressembles the quest line with Sebastian. Enjoy :)

Read my disclaimer and fair use notice here

The tension in the Undercroft is thick, nearly suffocating as the argument between you and Sebastian unfolds, echoing off the cold, unforgiving stone. The shadows stretch long under the dim, flickering light of the enchanted lamps, but nothing can diminish the storm crackling between the two of you.

Sebastian paces with a sharp, restless energy, his jaw set, eyes dark with a frustration that radiates off him in fierce waves. The composed, controlled demeanor you’ve always known has cracked open, letting the raw, volatile force of his emotions spill out.

“They’re goblins!” His voice is a razor’s edge, slicing through the heavy air. “They’ve been attacking villages, murdering innocent people—my people! They’re the aggressors, not the victims.”

You stand your ground, arms crossed tightly, your own emotions a turbulent mix of determination and the sting of hurt. You understand his pain, the searing anger that drives him, but the narrow, unforgiving view he’s clinging to fills you with unease. The world is rarely so black and white, and you can’t remain silent, not when you know there’s more at stake.

“I’m not saying what they’ve done is right,” you reply, your voice steady, a calm contrast to his fury. “But not every goblin is like Ranrok or the ones who follow him. Some are trapped, forced into a war they didn’t choose. We can’t just condemn them all, can’t assume every goblin is our enemy.”

Sebastian halts, whirling to face you, incredulity blazing in his eyes. “Are you defending them? After everything they’ve done? After what they did to Anne?”

The mention of Anne is like a dagger, twisting deep, and you know just how much it fuels his hatred. You feel it too—the sorrow, the anger—but you can’t let it consume you. “I’m not defending them,” you insist, stepping closer, your tone firm yet imploring. “I’m asking you to see beyond the rage. We can’t lose our humanity in this fight. If we do, we’re no better than those who see us as nothing more than obstacles to be crushed.”

His eyes blaze with fury, but beneath the fire, you catch a glimmer of doubt, a flicker of something less certain. He’s not used to you standing against him like this, not on something that cuts so close to the bone. “So what, then? You want me to just forgive them? Pretend like they haven’t torn everything apart?”

“No,” you whisper, the word soft but unyielding. You reach out, placing a hand on his arm, anchoring him as much as yourself. “But we can’t let our anger devour us. If we do, we’re playing their game, becoming exactly what they want us to be. We have to be better, not driven by revenge but by the hope of something better.”

Sebastian’s gaze falls to where your hand rests on his arm, the touch pulling him back from the edge, from the abyss he’s been staring into for far too long. His anger falters, giving way to the exhaustion beneath. His shoulders slump forward slightly. “It’s not easy,” he admits, his voice raw, stripped of its earlier venom. “Every time I think about Anne, about what they’ve done to her, all I want is to make them pay.”

“I know,” you murmur, your grip tightening just slightly, grounding him, anchoring him. “But we can’t let that pain control us. We have to find a way to channel it, to fight for something more than just revenge. We can’t let this war turn us into monsters.”

He looks up at you, the fire in his eyes dimming as he finally lets your words in. The tension in his shoulders eases, his breath shaky as he slowly nods. “You’re right,” he says, the anger melting into something more fragile, more human. “I’ve been so caught up in my rage, in making them pay, that I lost sight of what really matters. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let it get this far.”

You offer a small, reassuring smile, your hand giving his arm a gentle squeeze. “We’ll figure it out,” you promise, your voice carrying a quiet strength. “But we have to do it the right way.”

He nods again, the storm within him finally beginning to calm. He looks at you, really looks, and sees not just an ally, but a lifeline, a guiding light through the darkness that’s threatened to swallow him whole.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice sincere, filled with a gratitude that goes deeper than words. “For keeping me from losing myself.”

Your smile turns into a smirk, relief washing over you. “That’s what friends are for,” you say softly, “keeping each other on the right path.”

***

Thank you for reading!! Requests are open :) see y'all soon!

[sebsallowapologist]

Bathtub

Sebastian Sallow x F!MC

Rated: M - 18+

Warnings: naked mc, making up after a fight, post Hogwarts, auror Sebastian, curse breaker mc, comfort, fluff, female body worship

After a horrible fight about MC risking her life at her job Sebastian makes it up to her with a little bit of pampering.

I apparate outside of the small home I share with my husband in the small Hamlet of Feldcroft.

The light was on, so I knew he was awake. Fuck, he’d be waiting up for me after our knock down drag out fight this morning. All that work staying late at the office to avoid him for nothing.

Since the Ranrok fell when I had been in school, the hamlet finally came back to life, new families moved in bringing children, new businesses and a lively hood that Sebastian said he hadn’t seen since he was a child. When the two of us graduated and got engaged it only made sense to move back to the small town.

It had been over six years of married bliss. Sebastian fixed up the house and expanded it, adding rooms for Anne or Ominis to visit should they want to. He even put up with me when I took absolutely forever redoing the kitchen, spending hours letting me change the cabinet color.

The married bliss has been interrupted this morning, after Sebastian brought up his distaste for my job for the millionth time. I was a curse breaker, he was an auror. They were both exciting, but sometimes dangerous jobs but he was keen to cut yours down any chance he took. I loved my job, loved helping people and he just seemed to think it was a fun little hobby.

It all came to a head this morning when he simply told me the work you did wasn’t WORTH it. I’d come home late again, but he’d come home late often for work.

It would have hurt less if he had slapped me. After he said that I had gotten up from bed, threw on the first thing I could find and spit out that I was going to your worthless job, and he shouldn’t wait up for you that night.

That was about 19 hours ago, and now here I am, standing outside your home, too nervous to apparate directly into your living room.

The nurse who worked at my office had done a fine time patching me up after the mission had gone somewhat sideways, but there I was again - coming home banged up. It was just going to give Sebastian fuel for his stupid argument.

Before I could gather your nerve the front door to the cottage opened, your husband backlit.

He was still wearing the clothes from his office, but his cloak was gone. His shirt sleeves rolled up to rest right above his elbows.

“Come here, love.” He says and gestures for me to come to the house. I sigh and give in, pushing my anxiety aside as I limp into my home.

When I reach Sebastian I’m ready for the lecture to begin, but he simply pushes my hair behind my ear, gently cups my cheek and gives me the softest kiss I’ve ever had. He pulls back, not before giving me a few extra pecks.

Sebastian takes my limp hand and leads me to the bathroom connected to our bathroom. The tub at the back of the room was steaming, a layer of bubbles peaking out over the edge of the porcelain. 

Two candle sticks sat on either side of the tub, basking the dark space in a warm glow. Fresh cut flowers from the garden sat in a beautiful vase on the stool next to the white clawfoot tub. 

Sebastian looks proud of himself as you take the room in, “Seb.” You whisper. “This is... beyond.” 

He squeezes my hand and drags me toward the center of the room. “I have to apologize.” He sighs, his hands reaching for the lapel of my coat, helping me slide it off my shoulders. Neither one of us makes a move to catch it s it falls to the ground. 

“It wasn’t fair of me.” He continues. “To not take your job as seriously as I take mine.” He sighs, lifting my chin up so our eyes meet. It doesn’t matter how long we’ve been together, my heart races as soon as he looks at me like that. Like I’m the only thing worth being soft for.

I sigh and he starts slowly, carefully undoing the buttons on the front of my button up shirt. “To me, my job is worth risking my life for. That’s easy.” He sighs, sliding my shirt off my shoulders, letting it fall to join my coat on the ground. 

“But when you risk your life.” He sighs. “For as noble as a reason can be- It’s impossible that your life is worth risking for anything. Your life is the most important thing in my world.” 

He easily pops the button of my pants off and helps me step out of them. He makes quick work of my undergarments, and when I’m fully naked he takes my hand and helps me into the bath, still kept warm by his magic. 

I sink into the water and moan, the heat helping to relax all the well worn muscles. I rest my head on the side of the tub and look up at the man I love. “Do you understand?” Sebastian asks. “It’s not that your job isnt important. It’s just that to me- you’re more important.” 

I turn my head to stare up at the ceiling for a second before closing my eyes. “I think you’re going to have to get over that.” 

Sebastian drags over the chair thats next to my vanity, sitting down next to the tub. “And I’m working on that, but you’ll forgive me if it takes me a while to get used to it?” His hand laces through my hair, tugging ever so slightly at the root. I hum in satisfaction and nod, “I think I can give you a bit of grace.”

“Thank you, my love.” He sighs and keeps petting my hair, kissing my forehead every now and then as I relaxed in the tub.

When I make a move to get out of the tub he stands up, holding out his hand to step out of the tub. The water slides down my naked body, droplets running in the valley between my breasts.

Sebastian slowly works his way down my body kissing each bruise, nick, scratch that littered my skin. When he was done kissing every mark he moves his mouth back to my lips, more firm with his kisses now. “I mean how could I not think you are the most important thing in the world.”

He starts at my collarbones skimming his nose down my neck. My husbands hands run over my breasts his fingers pinching my nipples lightly. “Bad boy.” I smile, bringing his face up to meet mine.

“I’m apologizing.” He explains, going back to his assault on my neck.

And so Sebastian apologized.

[pluvpluvpluv]

Served Cold

18+ || MDNI || Content Warnings: violence, major HL game spoiler(s), swearing, I think that’s it.

Word Count: ~1.3k

Garreth Weasley x f!Ravenclaw!MC

A/N: Enjoy angry Garreth standing up for MC like 2 years after the fact but it’s the thought that counts really. I also wrote this almost all in one sitting so it is barely proofread xoxo Pluv

~~~

“I want to hear all about fifth year,” Garreth insisted, finally coming down from the mild temper tantrum he threw when MC showed him the Room of Requirement…and accidentally let it slip that it had been his aunt who showed it to her in hopes of giving her somewhere private to catch up on her studies.

“You spent a lot of time with Sebastian that year.”

MC immediately clocked the jealousy in his voice, and she didn’t even try to hide the smug smile that settled on her face.

“And I’ve spent a lot of time with you every year since. I was trying to help him find a cure for Anne. We both went through a lot that year. Really Gare, it’s like having a brother.”

“And you two weren’t able to find anything to help Anne?”

His voice grew soft at the mention of the other Sallow twin. She had touched more hearts than just those in her house. Garreth remembered the girl fondly, filled with memories of antics that rivaled his own like some unspoken competition between the two. She, of course, had the benefit of being able to drag Sebastian and Ominis into her schemes. Maybe half the time he had been able to trick Leander into participating.

“No.” She hesitated before looking at Garreth, a newfound seriousness on her face. “Gare, I need you to swear to me what I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room. Do you understand?”

He sat a little straighter on the couch they were sitting on. He looked down at her and his eyes scanned over her face, trying to find a clue for what was about to come out of her mouth.

“I swear, MC. Whatever you tell me will stay in this room.”

The tension gradually left her shoulders as she recounted most of what she and Sebastian did in an attempt to find a cure for the mysterious curse that plagued the girl in Feldcroft. She did, intentionally, twist the story of what exactly happened in the catacombs. Solomon Sallow’s true cause of death was a secret she’d take to the grave. In embracing the relief it felt to just tell someone, especially someone who mattered to her as much as Garreth did, about just how much she had done during her first year on top of defeating Ranrok under the school, she missed the boy beside her growing more and more tense with every word she spoke.

“He used an Unforgivable on you?”

The cold, level tone that she had never heard come from his lips finally clued her in on the fact that her boyfriend hadn’t quite enjoyed hearing what she had gone through.

“Well, it was that or we would’ve died down there, Gare. We found the skeleton of Ominis’s aunt for Merlin’s sake. And I didn’t know the spell then, so I couldn’t have cast it.”

“He could have – you didn’t know it then? So you know it now?!”

“I had him teach me later. I uh it’s very useful when you’re spending your nights going up against poachers and ashwinders.”

“Ominis was there too. They both just agreed to let you take the godsdamned torture curse?”

MC opened her mouth to speak, but before she could even get a word out, he was gone. It took longer for her body to react than she would’ve liked, and that delay paired with how much taller the Gryffindor was, she knew catching up to him before he found the Slytherin boys was going to be impossible.

~~~

“Oi! Sallow!”

Garreth was marching across the courtyard, the anger radiating off of him in waves so palpable it repelled anyone standing between him and the two Slytherin boys he was looking for.

“What’s got your knickers—what the fuck?!”

Sebastian’s antagonistic greeting was cut short when Garreth’s fist made contact with his cheek. The redhead was absolutely seething.

“Not so fucking tough when it’s someone your own size, are you? Huh?”

“What in Merlin’s beard are you talking about?”

“Garreth, I—“

“Gaunt, if you open your mouth to try and defend him, what little grace I’m giving you will end. Don’t think I won’t exclude you from getting your arse kicked just because you can’t see it coming.”

His attention turned back to Sebastian, and the brunet still had the audacity to look confused. The sight just pissed Garreth off more.

“I know what you did, you fucking bastard. Were you not man enough to take it yourself? You had to make her take it? Did you two bring her to her common room afterwards or did you just let her walk all the way from the godsdamned dungeons up to Ravenclaw tower? You fucking cowards!”

His angry words were no longer enough and MC finally found them just as Garreth pounced on Sebastian and the two rolled around in the grass. Sebastian was only trying to dodge Garreth’s punches, and the fact he wasn’t fighting back just spurred the redhead on further.

“Levioso!” Her own voice carried across the lawn, her chest heaving as she felt she had searched everywhere in the castle before finally finding the scene she interrupted.

The anger didn’t leave Garreth’s eyes as he levitated over Sebastian until his glare was blocked by a particularly irritated and flustered witch. She affixed him with a withering stare before turning to her friend. She produced a wiggenweld potion from her pocket - because of course she still carried them around everywhere - and offered both Sebastian and Ominis an apology.

“I’ll deal with him. I apologize that I wasn’t quick enough to catch him before he found you two. I’ll handle him from here. I’ll speak with you two at dinner.”

Once the two were gone, she turned back to Garreth, arms crossed over her chest. Her gaze wasn’t as harsh as it had been, but it was still painfully obvious she wasn’t happy with him.

“I swear it won’t leave this room,” she mocked him, letting him fall to the ground.

Garreth’s cheeks almost matched his hair as he stood, frowning down at her as his eyes locked on hers.

”Well, I didn’t know the severity of what I was going to hear when you made me swear. You expected me to just hear what they, what he, made you endure and not do anything? Either one of them could have taken that curse instead of having you do it. I mean have they even apologized? It’s been two years, MC. Please tell me they at least had the decency to apologize afterwards.”

She hesitated, preparing to have to stop him again. “They don’t need to apologize. It was either take the curse or die. And I wasn’t going to die in some hidden room in this castle that no one else would know existed.”

His stare was incredulous as he tried to gauge how much her anger would be worth following the two snakes she set free. Feeling her arms wrap around him caused him to tense for a moment before he relaxed and he reciprocated her hold.

“Thank you for being so upset on my behalf, Garreth. If I were in the same scenario again, I’d take it. No matter who I would’ve been stuck there with, I would’ve taken that curse to get us out.”

”No, you wouldn’t have.”

She looked up at him, her facial expression indignant. She was clearly ready to argue but seeing the look on his face clearly made her falter and she didn’t speak.

”You wouldn’t have taken it if you were stuck with me. I love you too much to even imagine having to put you through that.”

The warm feeling from the Room of Requirement, when she realized she was able to tell him things she couldn’t tell anyone else, returned to her chest.

”I love you too, Garreth. Enough to never put us in a situation that requires that curse.”

He chuckled, leaning down closer to his favorite witch. “You’ve got a deal,” he murmured before sealing it with a kiss.

[undercroft-files]

Recovery

Gif not mine

Various HL Characters & MC

Genre: Scenarios

Summary: After MC's daring solo fight with Ranrok and doing whatever they chose to do with the stored ancient magic, they were admitted into the hospital wing by some of the professors that found them. The nurse just now started allowing visitors, how do they all react?

Characters: Natsai Onai, Sebastian Sallow, Poppy Sweeting, Ominis Gaunt, Amit Thakkar, Eleazar Fig

Warnings: Mentions of cuts, bruises, and bandages but nothing out of place.

Natsai Onai

Once she heard about you being in the hospital wing and knowing you were allowed one visitor at a time, Natty didn't waste a second in seeing you. She knew about Ranrok and the ancient magic but a whole battle against Rankrok alone under Hogwarts definitely didn't sound pleasant.

The hospital wing was quiet, no one else seemed to be there at the time other than you. Natty immediately came to your side and hugged you, catching you off guard.

"I am so happy you are okay!" Natty exclaimed, clutching you around your waist.

"Ow...!" You grunted, your voice was hoarse and gravely from overuse.

"Oh! I apologize! Did I accidentally harm you?" Natty asked, becoming aware of her own strength and letting you go.

"You're okay, Natty. Thank you for coming to visit me." You said, your voice cracking a little from it being hoarse.

"Of course, MC. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't make sure they were okay after what I heard you went through." Natty admitted, pulling one of the visitor's chairs closer to your bed and sitting down on it.

"Ah, so you know." You chuckled, a weak smile on your face.

"How could I not? Most people assumed you were expelled but I knew Black wouldn't actually do that after all the trouble he went through just to get you here." Natty said, hinting to the spreading rumors about you.

"Huh, you got a point..." You replied, your voice cracking again.

"You sound tired, why don't you get some more rest?" Natty offered, pulling some of your covers up for you.

"And miss out on seeing my friend when I need her most?" You replied, smiling at Natty.

"Trust me, MC. You will not be missing out on anything because I will remain here until I'm told otherwise. Get some rest, you deserve it." Natty almost commanded, helping you shift into a comfortable position for you to sleep.

Sebastian Sallow

He didn't even wait from word about where you were after the events of the goblin attack were confirmed, he just bolted to the hospital wing. Sebastian had a lot on his mind since you last talked to him, the events between him and what was left of his family shattering and you stayed by him, despite when he got difficult. He needed to talk to you.

The nurse almost didn't let him enter but you called out and told her that it was okay. Sebastian gave one final glare to the nurse before he rushed to your side, grabbing your hands and holding them in a comforting way.

"Are you okay? You look absolutely terrible." Sebastian stated, looking over all the markings of your face and arms.

"Well, I've definitely been better." You joked, smiling a little.

"You should've told me. I could've helped you." Sebastian said, sitting on the bed by your legs but never letting go of your hands.

"No, Sebastian. It would've been useless. Professor Fig was with me but I told him to leave because it was too dangerous for him, I would've told you the same if you were there. Besides, you had your own things to worry about—"

"No, no, no, don't say that. You've done so much for me this year that most people wouldn't have been able to accomplish in a single year, the least I could've done was protect you." Sebastian said, his grip slightly getting tighter but not overbearing.

"I'm fine, really." You tried to push away his concerns but he insisted.

"Fine? MC, have you looked at yourself? Your arms are covered in bandages, you basically look like a mummy! If that's your definition of 'Fine' then I'm deeply concerned for you." Sebastian confronted, causing you to give me a pitiful smile.

"I'm sorry, Sebastian. I just didn't want anymore trouble nor did I want to risk losing someone I care about." You admitted, giving a small smile.

"I forgive you, just promise me next year won't be as dangerous as this one? I appreciate adventure, but not death wishes." Sebastian joked, causing you to laugh a bit.

Poppy Sweeting

"MC! Are you okay?!" Poppy greeted, rushing to your side at the hospital wing.

"Yeah, just a bit bruised." You admitted, smiling to Poppy.

"Don't ever do that again! From now on, I'm gonna make sure Highwing always has her eyes on you because you're just so... so—reckless!" Poppy exclaimed, her worries and care pouring out like word vomit.

Poppy had more to say but you didn't want to interrupt her in her worried rants, so you just listened with a smile on your face. She finished with an exaggerated sigh, her lungs trapping a bit of air at the beginning of her rant that needed to be let out.

"Feel better now?" You joked, seeing her calm down.

"A bit, I'll be way better once you're well enough to leave the hospital wing." Poppy admitted, sighing a little.

"Couldn't agree more." You stated, smiling brightly.

Ominis Gaunt

Word about the goblin attack spread through the school and surrounding areas like wildfire, everyone's talked about it at least once. Ominis knew you had some quarrels with a goblin named Ranrok and knew the dangers that came with it and he didn't question that you played a major part in defending Hogwarts.

Sebastian was the one to inform Ominis about you being in the hospital wing but that you hadn't woken up yet, so it felt only right to check on you, even if you didn't know he was there.

Ominis used Floo Powder to get to the hospital wing to make travel easier and located you from his wand, still unconscious. He sighed a little before sitting down in a nearby chair, waiting for either you to wake up or for the nurse to tell him it was time to go.

He wished you stayed mostly out of trouble when you got here or at least only worried about the goblin issues, sensing the bandages on you made Ominis have the feeling that if him and Sebastian had been more reckless when you helped them that this would've happened sooner.

Ominis heard you shuffle a little in your bed and tensed up a bit, trying to hear if you were awake or not.

"Ominis...?" You asked, answering his question.

"Hi," Ominis paused, not really knowing what to say. "How do you feel?"

"Like I just got attacked by a magical dragon." You chuckled, causing Ominis to give you a more concerning look than he already had. "Sorry..."

"Don't apologize, you did what you had to do." Ominis paused again, he's not used to comforting people or being comforted so he really didn't know what to say. He gently found your hand and held it. "I'm just glad you made it out alive."

You smiled, Ominis had always been nice to you unless he was upset but somehow managed to forgive you easily. You know you and Ominis got off on a lot of wrong starts but tried to make it up whenever you could, like if you saw his struggling in potions, you'd help him.

"Thank you, Ominis." You said with a smile, gently squeezing his hand.

Ominis smiled, "Just promise to not get into as much trouble in the future, you got lucky this time, I wouldn't test it again."

You chuckled, agreeing with him.

Amit Thakkar

He was anxious all morning during breakfast because he had heard of what to you the night prior, he wanted to see you but knew it wasn't worth the risk of getting caught when he didn't want to be. Finally, after leaving the Great Hall, he hurried to the hospital wing to find you quietly eating something yourself.

"Oh, hello Amit." You greeted, seeing him approach you.

"MC, what happened? Are you okay?" Amit asked, sitting down in a chair next to your bed.

"Well, goblins happened. Hopefully, I gave them enough of a scare that they decide to never mess around with Hogwarts again, and yes, I'm okay." You explained, smiling a bit.

"I've been so worried since I heard about the rumors of the goblin attack. I knew you were trying to keep them from whatever they were looking for but I was hoping they were just rumors." Amit admitted, sighing a little.

"Honestly, I'd have wished the same thing. It's over now, though. There will still be a nasty goblin here and there but they seem like a pesky bug now after I fought Ranrok." You joked, smiling to Amit.

Amit chuckled, finding a weird sense of admiration from your bravery. "I guess fighting a goblin who had been using wizard magic makes everything else seem like an assignment for school." Amit agreed, smiling back at you.

He decided to stay as long as he could with you as good company, some of your other friends came to visit and bring you gifts but he never left.

Eleazar Fig

He had been the one that carried your unconscious body to the hospital wing after you collapse from the powerful fight Ranrok gave you and from keeping that ancient magic from branching out where it doesn't belong. You had told him to run to safety after Ranrok destroyed the crate the magic was concealed in, he hated the idea of leaving a student he cared for in the jaws of potential death but he had no other choice.

He helped the other professors fight the goblins that came before rushing back to check on you, finding Ranrok dead, the magic concealed once more, and your body motionless on the ground. He expected the worst but didn't give up hope, he knew you could pull through.

After the nurse patched up your wounds and gave you a bed to rest in, Fig spent all his time by your side. He had a few cuts and bruises on himself that he got taken care of as well but never left you out of his sight for too long, not wanting to miss when you woke up again.

Hours passed, maybe even a full day passed before you slowly opened your eyes. Fig's attention was brought back to reality when he heard you sigh and saw your hand instinctively rub your eye.

"Professor...?" You asked, your voice raspy from the battle.

"I'm here, it's alright. You're in the hospital wing, Ranrok is dead, and the ancient magic has been concealed. You've done it." Fig smiled, gently taking the hand you weren't using and holding it.

"How long...?" You began but trailed off, finding it hard to use your words.

"You haven't been out long. Maybe a day, but I was expecting you to be resting longer." Fig admitted, gently brushing his thumb over your knuckles.

You hummed in response, letting Fig know you heard him. Words became something nearly impossible for you to use as tiredness and the weight of your body needing healing overpowered you.

"Rest, MC. Merlin knows you deserve it after all you've done." Fig said, seeing how exhausted you still were.

You nodded before letting yourself drift off into a peaceful slumber, the most peaceful you've had in a long time. Fig smiled before he leaned back in the chair he was sitting on, thinking to himself, 'I could use some shut eye too.'

[roohuh]

Studying in the greenhouse

Ominis X MC

One shot

Summary: You, Sebastian, and Ominis all spend a stormy afternoon studying in the greenhouse.

Warnings: noneee

You have never watched Ominis so closely before. But one day, while you, Sebastian, and Ominis all sit studying in the greenhouse. You notice how the flashing of the lightning outside highlights his cheekbones. Your hands forget their work as you study his so diligently tracing over a braille page. Taking note of the veins which run up the back of his hands to his toned forearms you feel a heat rise to your cheeks. You feel as if your heartbeat matches the raindrops pounding against the roof. You wonder why you never before noticed the way he smiles gently as he reads, or the way his eyes crinkle ever so slightly on the side when he smiles. *CLAP* his shoulders raise and give a subtle jerk at the thunder. You wonder if he’s more thrown off by the noise without the warning of lightning. How many things are harder for Ominis without his vision? How strong he must be to bear them so nonchalantly.

“What did you get for number 15?” Sebastian breaks your line of thought.

“I…um…15…” you mumble fumbling with your quill.

“I have not made it that far.” You groan as you realize how long you had spent admiring Ominis and how little you have gotten done.

“Are you having trouble? Do you need any help?” Ominis kindly offers.

“Just have to focus.” You shrug.

“Something wrong?” Sebastian asks, his mouth tightening in concern.

“Nothing wrong, just… tired.” You want to shrink into your seat or the floor to swallow you whole unwilling to admit that Ominis was your distraction.

“Alright, but you know you can talk to us.” Ominis tries his best to sound convincing. You know after Ranrok he and Sebastian had been concerned about you.

“I am really alright, just daydreaming.” Taking Ominis hand, you attempt to soothe. However as you take his hand you see an eyebrow go up at the gesture and a bit of a smile form on his lips. Yanking your hands away you awkwardly fumble with your quill.

“I better focus on this or I’ll be here all night.” Sebastian shoots you a questioning look but you try your best to ignore both of their scrutiny. Furiously you scrawl away at your parchment until they return to their own tasks. Just as you think you successfully moved on from your embarrassing gesture Sebastian stands and picks up his book.

“I am off.” He waves.

“Where are you going?” You attempt to keep the panic out of your voice. You feel too awkward to be left alone with Ominis. Sebastian gives you an exaggerated wink,

“I have places to be.” Wrinkling your nose at Sebastian you mentally note his intentional abandonment in a moment of need. Once he is gone you and Ominis sit in silence, trying your best to seem casual. The sound of the rain against the green house with the now more acational clap of thunder fills the air.

“I have finished my reading assignment. How is your work coming?” Ominis breaks the air. Your heart sinks at the news he is finished as you still have half a page left to write.

“I still have a ways to go yet.” You sigh. “If you would like, I will finish here and catch up with you and Seb later.” A disappointed frown flashes across Ominis face.

“I was going to stay unless you would like me to leave.”

“I would enjoy the company if you would stay.” Trying not to sound too eager you agree.

“Good.” He nods, taking out a different book and beginning to read.

“What are you going to read now?” You crane your head to read the title. “Pride and Prejudice?” You read.

“A muggle novel.” He shrugs nonchalantly. Curiosity peaked, you move closer to look at the book.

“I never took you for the type to read muggle literature.”

“I apperectiste a compelling story no matter the author.”

“And what does Mr. Gaunt deem a compelling story?” Ominis gives a small laugh.

“Finish your assignments and I will read to you the first chapter.” The offer sends your stomach into acrobatics.

“You would read it to me?” You know you sound eager but the offer caught you off guard.

“Be quiet, get your work done, and I will read you as much or as little as you desire.”

[pluviowriting]

Served Cold

18+ || MDNI || Content Warnings: violence, major HL game spoiler(s), swearing, I think that’s it.

Word Count: ~1.3k

Garreth Weasley x f!Ravenclaw!MC

Repost from original blog @/pluvpluvpluv

A/N: Enjoy angry Garreth standing up for MC like 2 years after the fact but it’s the thought that counts really. I also wrote this almost all in one sitting so it is barely proofread xoxo Pluv

“I want to hear all about fifth year,” Garreth insisted, finally coming down from the mild temper tantrum he threw when MC showed him the Room of Requirement…and accidentally let it slip that it had been his aunt who showed it to her in hopes of giving her somewhere private to catch up on her studies.

“You spent a lot of time with Sebastian that year.”

MC immediately clocked the jealousy in his voice, and she didn’t even try to hide the smug smile that settled on her face. 

“And I’ve spent a lot of time with you every year since. I was trying to help him find a cure for Anne. We both went through a lot that year. Really Gare, it’s like having a brother.”

“And you two weren’t able to find anything to help Anne?”

His voice grew soft at the mention of the other Sallow twin. She had touched more hearts than just those in her house. Garreth remembered the girl fondly, filled with memories of antics that rivaled his own like some unspoken competition between the two. She, of course, had the benefit of being able to drag Sebastian and Ominis into her schemes. Maybe half the time he had been able to trick Leander into participating.

“No.” She hesitated before looking at Garreth, a newfound seriousness on her face. “Gare, I need you to swear to me what I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room. Do you understand?”

He sat a little straighter on the couch they were sitting on. He looked down at her and his eyes scanned over her face, trying to find a clue for what was about to come out of her mouth.

“I swear, MC. Whatever you tell me will stay in this room.”

The tension gradually left her shoulders as she recounted most of what she and Sebastian did in an attempt to find a cure for the mysterious curse that plagued the girl in Feldcroft. She did, intentionally, twist the story of what exactly happened in the catacombs. Solomon Sallow’s true cause of death was a secret she’d take to the grave. In embracing the relief it felt to just tell someone, especially someone who mattered to her as much as Garreth did, about just how much she had done during her first year on top of defeating Ranrok under the school, she missed the boy beside her growing more and more tense with every word she spoke.

“He used an Unforgivable on you?”

The cold, level tone that she had never heard come from his lips finally clued her in on the fact that her boyfriend hadn’t quite enjoyed hearing what she had gone through.

“Well, it was that or we would’ve died down there, Gare. We found the skeleton of Ominis’s aunt for Merlin’s sake. And I didn’t know the spell then, so I couldn’t have cast it.”

“He could have – you didn’t know it then? So you know it now?!”

“I had him teach me later. I uh it’s very useful when you’re spending your nights going up against poachers and ashwinders.”

“Ominis was there too. They both just agreed to let you take the godsdamned torture curse?”

MC opened her mouth to speak, but before she could even get a word out, he was gone. It took longer for her body to react than she would’ve liked, and that delay paired with how much taller the Gryffindor was, she knew catching up to him before he found the Slytherin boys was going to be impossible.

~~~~~

“Oi! Sallow!”

Garreth was marching across the courtyard, the anger radiating off of him in waves so palpable it repelled anyone standing between him and the two Slytherin boys he was looking for.

“What’s got your knickers—what the fuck?!”

Sebastian’s antagonistic greeting was cut short when Garreth’s fist made contact with his cheek. The redhead was absolutely seething.

“Not so fucking tough when it’s someone your own size, are you? Huh?”

“What in Merlin’s beard are you talking about?”

“Garreth, I—“

“Gaunt, if you open your mouth to try and defend him, what little grace I’m giving you will end. Don’t think I won’t exclude you from getting your arse kicked just because you can’t see it coming.”

His attention turned back to Sebastian, and the brunet still had the audacity to look confused. The sight just pissed Garreth off more.

“I know what you did, you fucking bastard. Were you not man enough to take it yourself? You had to make her take it? Did you two bring her to her common room afterwards or did you just let her walk all the way from the godsdamned dungeons up to Ravenclaw tower? You fucking cowards!”

His angry words were no longer enough and MC finally found them just as Garreth pounced on Sebastian and the two rolled around in the grass. Sebastian was only trying to dodge Garreth’s punches, and the fact he wasn’t fighting back just spurred the redhead on further.

“Levioso!” Her own voice carried across the lawn, her chest heaving as she felt she had searched everywhere in the castle before finally finding the scene she interrupted.

The anger didn’t leave Garreth’s eyes as he levitated over Sebastian until his glare was blocked by a particularly irritated and flustered witch. She affixed him with a withering stare before turning to her friend. She produced a wiggenweld potion from her pocket - because of course she still carried them around everywhere - and offered both Sebastian and Ominis an apology.

“I’ll deal with him. I apologize that I wasn’t quick enough to catch him before he found you two. I’ll handle him from here. I’ll speak with you two at dinner.”

Once the two were gone, she turned back to Garreth, arms crossed over her chest. Her gaze wasn’t as harsh as it had been, but it was still painfully obvious she wasn’t happy with him.

“I swear it won’t leave this room,” she mocked him, letting him fall to the ground.

Garreth’s cheeks almost matched his hair as he stood, frowning down at her as his eyes locked on hers.

”Well, I didn’t know the severity of what I was going to hear when you made me swear. You expected me to just hear what they, what he, made you endure and not do anything? Either one of them could have taken that curse instead of having you do it. I mean have they even apologized? It’s been two years, MC. Please tell me they at least had the decency to apologize afterwards.”

She hesitated, preparing to have to stop him again. “They don’t need to apologize. It was either take the curse or die. And I wasn’t going to die in some hidden room in this castle that no one else would know existed.”

His stare was incredulous as he tried to gauge how much her anger would be worth following the two snakes she set free. Feeling her arms wrap around him caused him to tense for a moment before he relaxed and he reciprocated her hold.

“Thank you for being so upset on my behalf, Garreth. If I were in the same scenario again, I’d take it. No matter who I would’ve been stuck there with, I would’ve taken that curse to get us out.”

”No, you wouldn’t have.”

She looked up at him, her facial expression indignant. She was clearly ready to argue but seeing the look on his face clearly made her falter and she didn’t speak.

”You wouldn’t have taken it if you were stuck with me. I love you too much to even imagine having to put you through that.”

The warm feeling from being able to tell him things she couldn’t tell anyone else returned to her chest.

”I love you too, Garreth. Enough to never put us in a situation that requires that curse.”

He chuckled, leaning down closer to his favorite witch. “You’ve got a deal,” he murmured before sealing it with a kiss.

[nye-the-ravenclaw]

Robe

Summary: A week after the events of Ranrok’s Rebellion, Melanie is in the midst of processing all that had happened, while tiding through the remainder of her school year. Sebastian and Ominis can only watch from a distance as their friend tries to work through it. Pairing: Hints of Sebastian Sallow x MC WOrd CoUnt: 1,500 ~ Or read it on A03. Notes: It's been a long while since I've touched the metaphorical pen, can't wait to see where this goes.

Time seemed to come to a standstill for Melanie even as a week passed, following the events of Ranrok’s rebellion. 

After the proceedings of Professor Fig’s funeral were completed, the student body were advised to embark on their preparation for their O.W.Ls. The professors offered a short postponement to Melanie in light of recent events, but she decided that it was best to proceed as normal. Choosing to push through as she attempted to mourn her mentor privately as best she could. At the same time, the Keepers had elected to entrust the repository to her, after deeming more than worthy. She accepts it - a tense undercurrent still running within her despite having won the war. 

Sebastian was also reeling from the events within his family - or the lack thereof. With the impending examinations, he barely had time to process anything either. 

The only thing Sebastian did manage to do was to talk to Ominis in an attempt to reconcile with him. They agreed that while it would be rocky for now, their friendship would endure. Melanie, on the other hand, seemed miles away, aside from her occasional engagement in their rising number of study sessions. 

The boys determined that perhaps it was best to hold off on difficult conversations for now. Though, whenever Sebastian’s weary hazel eyes met Melanie’s own mourning blue from across the table, it was like looking into a mirror. They chose to keep it from Ominis, understanding the need for space, suffering together in silent solidarity.  

Once the O.W.Ls were over, Melanie took to the Scottish Highlands for some time alone while Sebastian and Ominis made up for lost time in the Undercroft and taking leisure trips to Hogsmeade.

A week later, the boys grew concerned as they realised that Melanie had been off school grounds an awful lot, much more than she usually would. It was to a point where they no longer caught glimpses of her tapping along the floors, or the sound of a distant Revelio. 

There were a couple of times Sebastian or Ominis would catch her lingering around Professor Fig’s classroom, sometimes with dirt and debris-stained clothes, but all they could strike with her was a single salutation and a couple of ‘I’m fine’s, before she would head off to return to the lands beyond.

Sebastian himself found his thoughts miles away as he and Ominis padded along the streets of Hogsmeade.

“She will be ready when she is ready, Sebastian.” Ominis offers, letting his wand guide him, its red light pulsing meekly. He makes sure not to raise it too high, so that it does not unnerve those unaware of his condition. 

He listens out for the folk around him going about their day, occasionally manoeuvring around certain individuals who seem to be as blind as he is. 

“Hm…what? Sorry Ominis, I was distracted.” 

Ominis furrows his eyebrows, trapped in his lovelorn thoughts more like. Now that Sebastian actually had more time to think about himself again, he had the headspace to restart his infatuation with the, well, not-so-new-anymore fifth year. Though it wasn’t clear if Sebastian was aware of his infatuation at all. 

Ominis supposes that’s a step, in comparison to obsessing over the Dark Arts. 

Sebastian continues, “You know, she has been away quite often, and I can’t even get a word in edgewise whenever I spot her.”

“It’s the same for me too, Sebastian, but there are some things we cannot force.” Ominis thinks back to the many times he himself was exasperated by his own best friend’s stubbornness. Even then, Melanie would always advise that at times like these, the best option is to trust and be supportive. Sometimes they have to work it out for themselves.

Sebastian falls silent, unsure if that was truly the best solution. If his close friend was suffering, he should be doing something about it. Suddenly, he spots something in the glass window. He stops. 

“Ominis”, he holds his best friend's wrist in an effort to stop him. 

“What is it?” The blonde cranes his head towards his friend to hear him better at their sudden stop. 

“Can we head inside there for a moment?”

———

Melanie descends into the school compound, stowing her broom away. Her hair dishevelled after spending a whole day and night fighting trolls and clearing the remainder of Rookwood-Ranrok camps littered around the South Coast. She could still feel the spray of seawater and the grime of wet sand all over her clothes. She couldn’t wait to return to the Room of Requirement for a brief respite and then a hot bath. 

Straightening what she can of her uniform and hair, she enters the Defence Against the Dark Arts Tower, towards the Astronomy Tower. She was way beyond curfew and had a conviction to head out early the next morning to accomplish more. She had to be brisk.

Exiting the Undercroft after a late night spell practice, Sebastian hears a familiar, unmistakable sound - the soft clacking of footsteps crossing the hall above. It was Melanie. He could recognise the sound of her footsteps anywhere. Finally, she had returned. 

“Melanie.” He calls her - loud enough to garner her attention, but not enough to alert the patrolling prefects of their presence. She stops upon hearing Sebastian’s voice. Peering over the railing, she sees him looking at her from below. Checking the coast, they walk to each other, meeting halfway at the stairwell.

She looked a downright mess. It had been a long day for her, he’d reckon. For some reason, she looked every bit more battered by the elements than usual. 

“Sebastian, you’re still up?”

“Yeah,” he trailed off, “couldn’t really sleep.” 

“Me neither.” She replied.

And I was waiting for you to return. He thought to himself. 

There was a silence between the two, clearly knowing their reasons for the lack of easy slumber. Sebastian only lets it last for a moment. 

“You’ve been busy from the looks of it.” He points out, gesturing to the state of her attire. Instinctively, she sweeps her hands over her clothes in a futile attempt to straighten it. “Yes, I was out clearing the remaining camps of some of Rookwood and Ranrok’s followers.'' 

“I see. Well, if you are in need of any assistance, you know you are free to call me along.” He offered. A smirk graced his features, shining his signature Sebastian Sallow charm in an effort to sway her.  

Her heart skips a beat, as it always does. She quickly composed herself, familiar with his spell of persuasion.

“Thanks, I’ll be sure to do so.” She gave a small smile but it was clear that she had not much of an intention of doing so. It doesn’t get past Sebastian, but he lets it slide, for now. 

There were more important things at hand, like giving her what he stopped in Hogsmeade for.

“Oh yes, Ominis and I went into Hogsmeade today, here.” He fishes out a dark green robe and hands it to her. “I saw it and thought you might need it.”

She was surprised to say the least. Sebastian and gifts? Seems rather unlike him. She takes it from him. “What’s this?” 

“A robe.”

“I can see that.” She couldn’t help but let loose a little laugh. 

It was music to his ears.

Merlin, she's beautiful. He couldn’t stop his train of thoughts from leaving the station. 

He ‘plays it cool’ effortlessly, casually. “Well, I’ve noticed that you’ve been out of the castle quite a fair bit.” 

Then he pauses. “I know this is not even worth a fraction of making it up to you considering all that you have done for me, but if you must be out there, it has been raining more often, lately. Best to keep warm while you keep your wits about you.” 

Melanie was taken by his display of modest sincerity. Her fingers lightly stroke across the moss green corduroy in her hands. The feeling of stitched velvet was soft and comforting. It wasn’t exactly her house colours, but it was definitely more useful for blending in. She preferred it that way. It was easier to move around when she wasn’t a walking beacon for her school.

A smile graces her features. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” 

“Think nothing of it.” His smirk returns, satisfied by her reaction. “Maybe if you’re up for it, we could head down to Hogsmede too. Between your ‘crusades’ and what not.” 

His expression was confident, but she spies an almost missable light flush on his neck creeping from beneath his collar. For a moment, her mind seems to have caught onto a thought but she couldn’t quite put a pin on it.

“Sure, I’d like that.” Her smile only gets wider, and she feels her cheeks heat up, responding on its own towards Sebastian’s flush. Strange, something seems to be happening to the two of them. 

The slight colouration on her cheeks doesn’t escape Sebastian either. 

Cute. Sebastian’s brain wanders again, but he should focus on the girl in front of him. 

“Great, I’ll send an owl to check in soon. I’ll let you get back to your room.” He pauses. “Good night Melanie.” 

“Good night Sebastian.” She bids him with a smile, rewarding her with Sebastian’s own charmed one as he walks away. 

The two students head off to their separate destinations, and somehow, it feels as if time had begun moving again.

[blueseachelle]

A Comforting Hand

Garreth Weasley x MC! Reader

Summary: After saving the Wizarding world from the danger of Ranrok, life seems to not get any better. Now, everyone has this image of her she has to maintain. Now alone because of the loss of Professor Fig and with issues she faces with her Slytherin friends, she feels broken. Well, thankfully a certain Gryffindor boy accidentally stumbled upon her broken self on a cold winter's night.

Shattered. That's how Y/n would describe herself so far. She lost so much in one year even though she helped so much. She's The Hero Of Hogwarts for Merlin's sake. Yet, she hated the title because of the pain that came with it. She didn't ask for her powers. She didn't ask to be tossed into a war between good and evil. With the struggle, she lost her father figure, Professor Fig, and her best friends, Sebastian and Ominis. It ate at her. Yet, she had to smile for the people and other students. Y/n couldn't even cry in her dorm room anymore. Since she shares it with other students, the façade had to be maintained at all times. No relaxing. That's why she usually doesn't stay there anymore. She can't sleep anyway because of the memories and nightmares that play on repeat. She usually wanders the halls or goes to the Room of Requirement and/or Professor Fig's old office. Tonight was different. Winter has finally shown itself. A gentle snow consistently came down at night now. Y/n felt numb. She tightened her scarf around her neck and covered her mouth and nose. The cold helped her feel something. She needed the grounding feeling it provided her. Y/n was sitting in the court yard for an hour or so. She just sat staring off into space. She heard the sound of crunching snow in the distance but chose to ignore it. The crunching got louder and louder until it was right next to her. She didn't look up. "Well, if it isn't The Hero of Hogwarts. Are you looking for Dittany Leaves too?" Y/n eyes just cast to the ground. She knew the familiar voice. It was Garreth Weasley. She didn't talk to him much but, he was nice from what she heard. She just shrugged and rasped out, "I guess so." Garreth looked at her with a concerned look. He brushed off the snow from the seat next to her and sat, "Hey, Y/n. You doing okay? You seem out of it." Y/n pulled down her scarf and just gave him her perfected fake smile, "All good! Need something, Garreth?" The redhead boy narrowed his green eyes at her, "Yes. I need you to be honest with me. Y/n, I'm asking friend to friend, are you doing okay?" Y/n knew he could see through her so her face dropped, "I would tell but, I don't want it circulated through every house." Garreth set a hand on her back, "Trust me, Y/n. I won't tell. I worry for your well-being. Ever since the end of our fifth year, I could tell you were off. I just could never catch you with a chance to talk. It's kind of hard to find you when you are always on the move and doing something. Everyone else might think you're okay but, I can see otherwise. Let me be here for you." The (H/c) colored girl looked up at him. Tears formed in her eyes. "I lost everything, Garreth. My Professor, my closest friends, everything. I never asked to be here and have this power. I hate being called the Hero of Hogwarts. All I associate it is with pain. I hurt, Garreth. I've been holding it in because it's expected of me. I'm tired. So very tired." The tears were unstoppable as they streaked down her cheeks. Then, she felt warm arms wrap around her and pull her closer to him, "Listen to me, Y/n. You are human. You deserve to have emotion. I'm sorry you have no one to talk to about this. I'm sorry everyone up holds this unrealistic vision of you. I'm sorry that everything was lost but, you aren't going to be alone anymore. I will be here, Okay? I want to be. Don't think I'm using you like others have. I want to help you. I ask nothing in return. Just let me be here for you." Y/n sobbed into his chest. He held her close, whispering that everything was okay and to let it all out.

"That's how you and daddy do together?!?"

A little girl looked up at her mother. Her (E/c) eyes sparkled with innocence. Y/n patted her bright red curly hair and smiled,

"That's right. We have been beside each other's side ever since."

"I hope my love rescues me like daddy saved you! Like a knight in shining armor."

Garreth chuckled from behind them. He walked behind his seated wife and hugged her. He rested his hands on her pregnant belly and kissed her. She giggled. Garreth rested his head on hers and looked down at his daughter who sat on the carpeted floor with coloring pages scattered about her,

"Yes, very much a knight in shining armor but don't be mistaken, I needed Mommy as much as she needed me. When you get as strong and independent as Mommy was, you'll understand. Sometimes the strongest people need help and that's okay. Okay, Millie?"

The girl nodded with a big smile,

"It's equal! Give and take! That's the best way. Never one-sided!"

Garreth smiled with Y/n. For a 2-year-old, they were raising her right. Garreth was thankful that she was as smart as her mother. He remembers the stories his mother told about him at that age. Yet, his little girl is already a smart cookie. He kissed his wife's cheek and sighed,

"I sure hope it's a boy. I'm feeling out numbered here."

Y/n giggled as she rested a hand on her stomach. She sighed,

"I love you, Garreth Weasley."

"I love you, Y/n Weasley."

[orqheuss]

Even the iron still fears the rot PART 4

(Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow/GN!Reader ANGST)

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Summary:

Ominis is pushed far past his limits as Leona presses him for information about your whereabouts. Back at the castle, your search is beginning to look hopeless.

Word count: 8k

Tags: torture, blood, gore, broken bones, body horror, eye horror, emetophobia, graphic depictions of violence, cruciatus curse, threats of murder, strangulation, dissociation, J.K. Rowling canon history

AN: Did i research wand cores and wand wood extensively for this chapter? yes, yes i did.

Read at your own discretion

The professors were silent as Imelda recounted her story, leaving out no detail that could help persuade them in your cause— no stone unturned in the story of the disappearance of Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt. She still had Sebastian’s wand clutched tightly in her hand, the green and black checkered handle catching the light every so often as she paced the length of the room, hoping to expel some of the frantic energy building in her gut. You were not much better. Your leg was bouncing rapidly against the ground, your boot continuously tapping on the marble floor below and sending a tiny tapping to bounce around the room. The nails on your left hand had been bitten to stubs, tiny cuts beginning to bleed on your cuticles as you stared unseeing at the wall across from you— your mind plagued with images of what could be happening to your closest companions. 

They could be absolutely anywhere, you thought; anywhere across the entirety of the highlands of Scotland. It had been nearly a day at this point since they left for Hogsmeade, smiling and laughing about all the candy they were going to eat together when they got back and were finally able to drag you away from your extra assignments. No one imagined this happening to them in the peaceful town— no one thought that any harm would come to anyone now that Rookwood, Harlow, and Ranrok had been defeated. How naive you were. Poachers were still littered about the area, their teeth bared and ready to snatch anyone connected to you and your ancient magic between their snarling jaws. It was only a matter of time before they tried a different game to lure you into their trap.

Ominis’ wand, tightly grasped in your right hand and held above your heart, was your only means of sanity. You looked down at the long, black-toned wood in anguish, the magic inside thrumming against your fingertips— your only solace that one of the boy’s you loved was still alive. You prayed desperately to any deity, any preternatural being that was listening for Sebastian to be there with him— conscious, breathing, alive. 

Yes, it had only been a day since they had left, but to you it felt like centuries. 

You tightened your hold on the wand, desperate for a little bit of sanctuary in this tremulous storm of a situation, and tried to focus on the soft pulse of the blond’s magic inside— like you could feel his heartbeat through its strange, effervescent sentience. Everyone in the castle knew about the rare properties of this particular blackthorn wand— how it helped the young blind wizard traverse around the castle day in and day out, as well as how it was able to help him in even the most challenging duels. But, what they didn’t know was that it was magically linked to him in more ways than one. The Slytherin let you hold it once, one late night when he had successfully snuck you into the Slytherin common room upon the behest that you wanted to see a mermaid. You remember how it vibrated in your hands, the pulse only getting stronger as Ominis released the wooden instrument entirely and let you turn it about between your fingers. He revealed to you, in a hushed voice that sent shivers down your spine, that it was made special for him by Olivander— made only with things that personally resonated with his magic so it would be a perfect fit, some magical ingredients found as far away as across the Atlantic Ocean. 

This was also the night that he revealed to you more of his reasonings for wanting nothing to do with his family. 

As a muggle-born, you didn’t really know anything about the magic world outside of Hogwarts, and recently Uagadou, thanks to Natty, so when he told you about the magic school of North America, Ilvermorny, you were fascinated. Ominis delicately spun the tale of Isolt Sayre, the founder of the school across the sea, and his family ties to her lineage. You remembered how animated his voice was— how it lifted and fell with each newly revealed section of her life, how his hands joined in the fray when he told the harrowing story of how she had fled from his great-great grandmother Gormlaith Gaunt and disguised herself as she sailed to the “new world,” how his eyes sparkled when he told you about how she went against everything she had been raised to believe and not only adopted two boys that were not from the sacred twenty-eight but also married a muggle. 

You had never seen him so animated before, so enthralled in what he was talking about that nothing else mattered to him besides telling you everything he knew about this part of his history. He had never smiled that big around you before, you thought. There was a small chip in one of his canines that kept catching your attention— a little bit of personality, of human-ness in the normally prim and proper display he put on for the rest of the school. 

You remembered how the glow of the black lake shone on him, making his eyes look like tiny crystal balls that held your entire future in their swirling depths, and his hair look like tiny strands of pure, silken gold spun by The Fates themselves against his porcelain skin. 

In that moment, he had never looked more beautiful. 

The story concluded with him gently taking your hands into his, his palms cradling the backs of yours as he ran his thumb along the smooth wood of his wand. In a hushed voice, only for you to hear, like it was a secret that no one else could ever know, he explained then that the core of his wand was what made it so special— so unique to the others at the school. It was made with a sliver of the horn from a Horned Serpent, a magical creature only found in North America, as they had become extinct in Europe. Olivander had to have his core shipped in specially because of its properties. Ominis explained that Horned Serpent cores were exceedingly rare— only the two Boot boy’s, Isolt’s children, had them from what he was aware, and they died long ago. It helped him move around the castle with echolocation, emitting a low, musical note that only he could hear whenever something was in his way, or whenever danger was near. Not only that, it was perspective to his parseltongue, something he had to grow to accept rather than resent. Isolt was also a known parseltongue, and near the end of his fifth year, when he first found out about her, he reasoned that if she felt no malice about this particular talent then there was little need for him to feel the same. It was a part of him, just like everything else that he had come to accept with the help of you and Sebastian. 

You remembered talking with him for hours, only stopping when the sun began to breach over the horizon and awaken the common room around you. Ominis, the gentleman that he is, walked you to your common room door before bidding you goodnight with a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. You watched him from the barrels as he turned on his heel and began his walk back to his room, the red light at the tip of his wand blinking like a star on a cloudless night. 

Looking at the wand in your hands again, you asked it silently, desperately with your mind to blink to life once again— to point you in the direction of its owner so your boys could be safe and in your arms once again. Alas, no light came to help. 

“—? Are you with us, dear?” 

A hand lightly took you by the chin, tilting your face upwards and forcing your eyes away from the piece of wood you had been emotionlessly staring at for some time. The soft green and red tones of professor Garlick’s hat and hair were the only things you could see through the tears that burned in your eyes. You hadn’t even realized you had been crying until that second. A heaving, shaky breath made its way out of your lips as you shook your head lightly to clear your thoughts, a hand coming up and rubbing away the water that threatened to fall from your lower lashes. Garlick’s sympathetic face became clearer to you, her smile small but soft as she kneeled in front of the chair you had plopped into not long after entering the classroom. She gently took your hand, rubbing her thumb back and forth over your knuckles in a soothing motion as she tried to ground you back in reality. You wished it was Ominis and Sebastian touching you. 

Garlick tucked a tuft of your hair behind your ear before casting a look over her shoulder at her fellow professors, saying something that you couldn’t quite hear. Even though your eyes had cleared, it still sounded like you were underwater— like you were drowning and no one was coming to drag you back up to the surface. You didn’t dare look at the other professors, knowing you would find various forms of pity and sympathy in their eyes. You didn’t need pity, you needed them to get out there and find your best friends. 

Your eyes fell back downwards as the hand still cradling the blackthorn wand in your lap was gently pried open, making room for a second, lightly colored wand to join the first— yew wood, Sebastian’s wand. Your eyes began to water again when you saw them both together, side by side in your hands like their owners were in their everyday life. Professor Garlick cleared her throat to get your attention again, letting you take another deep breath and meet her gaze before beginning to speak. Her voice was tender, soft, like a mother consoling their crying child. 

“We are going to send out a search party for your friends first thing in the morning, I promise.” You opened your mouth, a protest dangling at the tip of your tongue, before she leveled you with a slightly harder, more strict stare. Your jaw closed with a soft click. “There would be no use looking for them in the middle of the night— there is no way of knowing where they are or who has them. It would be a suicide mission, and you know it. We will look for them right at first light when the chances of seeing them are higher.” 

She stood to her full height, holding out her hand for you to do the same. Once you were on your feet, she took your face into her hands, running her thumbs across your cheeks and wiping away the tears that gathered there. She gave you another soft smile, begging you to believe her, to not go looking for trouble like you tended to do with her eyes. 

“We will bring them back, dear. I promise you.” 

Professor Sharp cleared his throat to your left, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. He leveled a stern glare at you and Imelda, his voice leaving no room to argue when he spoke.

“Now, to bed with the both of you, and don’t even think about sneaking out and going to look for them yourselves. Let us handle this.” 

Both of you nodded, turning to leave the room and let the professors continue to discuss the best course of action for the morning. You knew they were right, there would be no point looking for them in the dark. Even if they hadn’t been taken and they were simply stuck somewhere in the woods, it would be impossible to find them. Still, a pulsing anger began to burn under your ribs at the idea of just going to bed while they were out there somewhere— scared, alone, wandless.

Imelda grabbed your cloak sleeve once you were out of earshot, pulling you quickly behind the statue along the far left wall of the courtyard and whispering urgently. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re actually going to listen to them?!” 

You scoffed at the incredulous expression that clouded her face, a devilish smirk stretching across your own cheeks in return. 

“Of course not! It’s like you don’t know me at all. Meet me outside the covered bridge— one hour. Bring your broom.” 

Imelda nodded, a smile pulling at her lips as she saluted you, quickly turning on her heel and running in the direction of the dungeons as you ran off towards the kitchens. 

There was no way you wouldn’t go looking for your Slytherin’s. They were yours, and Merlin help the bastards that took them, because through hell or high water, you would find them. 

Dawn streaked through the tiny cracks in the stone wall, illuminating the inside of the ruined penitentiary. The soft pitter-patter of rain stemmed from the countryside just beyond the fortresses walls, creating small puddles of mud on the cell floors and making the space incomprehensibly colder for the two young men resting inside. Both had curled into themselves in the night, trying to preserve the smallest iota of heat in their bodies. Even then, their skin had begun to have a blue tint to it. Their teeth chattered unconsciously in their mouths— their bodies' way of keeping them moving and warm. With no blankets to shield themselves, no pillow to rest their head and keep their smaller extremities warm, the chilled autumn breeze slipped through any crack it could find and leeched all warmth from their skin. The night held very little good, true sleep for the pair of Slytherin’s. Each boy tossed and turned, nightmares upon nightmares flickering behind their eyelids and thoughts of what was to come in the morning dancing through their skulls like little demonic dream snatchers. 

Sebastian was shaking the hardest out of the pair for a different reason than the encapsulating cold. Each and every cut on him stung harshly as his body fought against the foreign materials littered in his blood— dirt and dust and grime from the decrepit stone floor. The night on the rocks had not been kind to the freckled boy. He was still badly injured from his session of torture; each shift of his weight brought a new wave of pain. He could feel where his bones had broken and were stitched back together with magic; the little shards that didn’t quite make it into their proper positions stung as they pierced the inner mechanisms of his anatomy. He rolled around restlessly, sweat beading on his brow as a fever scorched through him— the cuts criss-crossing his body slowly becoming infected from a mix of the cold and any other disgusting creatures that could be found swimming in the soil. 

He knew that if they didn’t get help soon, he would die in there. 

Just before the sun reached its highest peak in the sky, a crack sounded through the stone prison, waking both boys with a jolt as their brains switched to high alert— the predators had come back. Sebastian stumbled to his feet first, glaring at the three kidnappers with unbridled rage as they made their way closer to their cages. Leona looked him up and down from the other side of the bars, lightly chuckling to herself at his state. She took in his arm wrapped around his abdomen like it held in all his organs, the twitch in his face whenever he moved wrong and agitated one of his wounds. Her eyes scanned him from top to bottom, feet to temple, and ended her journey on his smoldering, scorching hot sneer. Even with everything she did to him the day before, even after sleeping through the blistering cold, he still had so much life in those eyes. For a moment, she was almost worried about what he would do to her after her plan for today. But, all of that stress flittered away in the autumn breeze once she caught sight of the sweat that beaded on his brow. He was deathly pale, his entire body shaking and shivering against the infection that wracked through his body. She chuckled again, louder and with a much more mocking tone— he would not survive long enough for her to care about what would happen after today. 

Nothing could stop the slow death that awaited him— something so muggle, something so distinctly human, not even magic. 

Leona winked at the brunette, smiling ruefully at his demise and turned towards the blond across from him. He was poised in the corner of his cell, eyes wide and head whipping to and fro as he listened for their approaching footsteps. The black-haired vixen admired him from the bars, her grin stretching further across her face. The cuts on his face had long since stopped bleeding, leaving streaks of red and brown covering his cheeks, only broken apart by the tear tracks that spilled from him yesterday. Every inch of him was on edge, like his whole body was being pulled taut by an invisible force. She could smell his fear in the air, the stench of his terror masking the pungent aroma of the other boy’s rage. The blond’s lips may be pulled back in a brave snarl, but she knew better— her was terrified. Good, she thought. He should be. With a flick of her wrist, she unlocked the door and stepped into the cage with the snarling beast. 

Ominis whipped his head in her direction, hearing her footsteps and breaths as she drew closer to his frozen form. He growled low in his throat, his animalistic instincts taking over in the life or death situation he has found himself in, and geared himself to charge at the target of his anger. He was going to make her pay for what she did to Sebastian— what she was preparing to do to him. With a roaring wail, he pushed off from the wall and ran blindly at the poacher that held them captive. Right as he got close enough to pounce, where Leona could feel his rancid breath against her cheek, she grabbed at his collar and flung him harshly into the bars just beyond, watching as the boy crumbled to the floor in a mess of limbs and panting breaths. She laughed at Ominis’ pain, regarding him in the new light and silently giving him credit for his gusto. She would have fun breaking this one. 

The Rookwood sister stepped back, letting the boy get his bearings before she summoned a dining chair into the space. Wand poised in front of her like a dagger, Leona levitated the youngest Gaunt into the air, throwing him into the chair and conjuring rope to wrap around his body. Anger burned in his eyes as his wrists were tied down to the armrests and his legs were bound together. He thrashed against the binds, cursing the woman and struggling with every bit of strength he had left. The woman stalked towards him with a confidence only a murderer would have; her steps were sure, her head raised above her squared shoulders in triumph— a queen at her coronation— a knight swaggering into a battle that she knew she would win. She leaned close, one hand braced next to where his hand white-knuckled at the wood and the other grabbing a fistful of his hair, yanking it back. A hiss escaped through his clenched teeth at the sudden pain. 

A shout came from the adjacent prison cell. “Leave him alone, you bitch—” 

“Shunpike, shut him up would you?” 

Sebastian’s threats and growls were silenced quickly. Not even the sounds of his fists harshly slamming against the iron bars could be heard in the small space. Ominis felt truly alone without the presence of the brunette’s voice. 

Leona leaned even closer to the blond, her honey breath fanning across the apples of his cheeks. The boy’s face twisted in disgust at her closeness. 

She laughed at his resilience. “We did a little digging on you, blondie. Ominis Gaunt, right? Your parents would pay a pretty galleon for your safe return.” 

She pulled harder at his roots, reopening the cut on his forehead from the force and sending a trickle of blood down his brow. Her other hand raised to his face, ghosting her sharp nail along his cheekbone and collecting a drop of the sanguine ichor. She licked the metallic life force from her finger, a smile stretching further across her face as she tasted her next meal. 

“Tell me where the brat with ancient magic is and maybe there’ll be enough of you left to return to them for a proper burial.” 

A wry smirk stretched across Ominis’ face as a short bark of a laugh tumbled from his lips. A look one could only describe as smugness glimmered in his irises. “Merlin, you even sound like a cunt. You obviously didn’t dig deep enough; my parents can’t stand me, and I refuse to enter a battle of wits with someone so dolefully unprepared—” 

A harsh slap rang through the small space. The blond’s head rocketed to the side, his cheek stinging from the impact and the fresh slices in his skin from the woman’s rings. She roughly grabbed him by the chin, forcing his face to meet hers once again. 

“I am going to wipe that smirk right off your face, you impudent mammothrept.” With her thumb, Leona smeared some of the blood from his fresh cuts along his jawbone. “You just gave up your one saving grace in here.” 

With that, she wrapped her hands around the sides of his head and roughly brought his face downwards on her knee, splintering his nose further and jostling the already angry break. A sharp cry came from the young blond, the force ricocheting his head backwards and sending a spray of blood down his front. Sebastian silently screamed out for the boy, his knuckles bruised and sliced nearly down to the bone from trying to punch his way out. 

With a laugh, the woman took the heel of her boot and slammed it down onto the fingers of Ominis’ wand hand, breaking each and every one of them into tiny little bits of bone and flesh. The air filled with screams of agonizing pain. 

Sebastian slammed his eyes shut at the sound, tears of anguish trailing down his face. His lover’s wails still pierced his ears, now even louder than before. 

It was truly cruel how much your other senses heightened when you couldn’t see.

Leona smiled at the boy’s screams, shutting her eyes and relishing in the delicious pain she caused. A dark, breathy chuckle drew her out of her prideful musings. She snapped her eyes back to the cowering blond, a look of angered shock painting her visage. He was laughing at her? She’d just broken half of his fingers, and he was laughing? 

Ominis raised his head from where it had slumped in agony, somehow meeting the piercing eyes of the torturess. Even with the blindness, Leona could feel his gaze dig deep into her soul. A deranged smile stretched across his face, eyes alight with a barely concealed fury and teeth stained a light pink from how hard he bit his tongue. Pain bled at the edges of his voice, but the words were clear and filled with a sardonic, vainglorious tone. 

“You don’t scare me. We both know what my family— my father is capable of. Whatever you do to me, he has done ten times over.” A steely madness danced in his eyes. “You are but a bug beneath my shoe— you and your pigeon-livered brother.” 

Leona roughly grabbed the boys’ chin, squishing his face between her fingers and dragging him almost entirely out of the chair. Ominis’ impertinent smile widened at the rage burning in the woman’s aura. Her breath felt like icicles across his cheeks, teeth bared behind her snarl as if she was ready to tear out his throat. 

“I’m going to make you wish you were never born.” 

She threw him back into the seat, watching as it rocked back and forth with his weight before raising her arm and backhanding him brutally across his already scarred cheek, opening a slice in his lip and filling his mouth with even more blood. No noise left him— only the sound of skin mutilating skin echoing around the chamber as she slapped him again for a second time, the force rocking his neck in the opposite direction and nearly giving the boy whiplash. The blond slowly turned his head back to face in Leona’s direction, nothing reading through his expression other than the slight tilt downwards of his eyebrows and his scathing eyes peeking out from under his jostled hair. Rearing his head back and puckering his lips, he spit a mix of saliva, blood, and the bit of his cheek that he bit off into the poachers face. Her nostrils flared as she felt the chunk of flesh land on her cheekbone, sliding down her face and leaving a snail trail of blood before dropping to the ground with a soft plop. Her vision painted red, an inhuman, primal growl ripping from her throat in unencumbered wrath as she pounced on him. Her fists wrapped around his scrawny neck, squeezing the life from him and throwing the both of them to the ground, chair and all. 

Sebastian cringed at the sound of Ominis’ head smacking harshly against the stone below, a muted sob squeezing through the gaps of his molars. 

Stars burst behind the young Slytherin’s eyes as all the air was knocked out of his chest— the hand crushing his throat leaving no room for oxygen to enter his lungs and replenish the supply. He struggled against her hold, a ringing screaming in his ears and clouding all of his other senses. All he could focus on was the burning in his chest and the bright light that slowly took over his mindseye. His lungs ached. Leona pushed all of her weight onto the boy's larynx and chest, her knee pushing with all of her strength against his abdomen, pressing him deeper and deeper into the ground and stealing more of the life from his eyes. Ominis had never known what it felt like to drown, but in that moment he was sure it wasn’t much different than the suffocation clawing under his ribs. He had minutes, maybe seconds left before he completely lost consciousness— his skin an even more pronounced bluish-purple now than it was when he was asleep. The eerie coldness of death crept through his body, his limbs beginning to lose the fight to hold on to that last semblance of life that squeezed at his heart. Only the sound of his beloved lover’s names could be heard in the staunchly quiet space as they fell from his parted lips; his eyes began to flutter closed for what felt like the last time— eternal sleep wrapping its arms around his tired form and ushering him into the cold, perpetually lonely afterlife. 

You had been looking for Ominis and Sebastian for hours by the time the sun first began to rise over the hills. Once you both met up at the covered bridge, you and Imelda took one end of the Forbidden Forest a piece, her starting at the northern end and you the southern before meeting in the middle. No matter how sound your reasoning was— ashwinder’s were more likely to conglomerate in already made camps, and nearly all of them near Hogwarts and Hogsmeade were in or around the forest, after all— they were nowhere to be found. You felt like a mad man, casting revelio nearly twice as much as you did last year for your begrudgingly useful field guide, and that was a lot. But even still, there was not one trace of your boys in the forest. 

The next logical place to search was the scene of the crime. You sent Imelda to go search the far end of the Hogsmeade woods, and you would search near the area where she had found the blood earlier. With a nod and a quick point in the right direction, you both were off to continue your hunt. 

Upon landing in the clearing, the first thing you noticed was the strong, putrid scent of blood. At one point this was probably a lovely spot, one where couples could come and have a picnic after a day of shopping in town, just enough out of the view of civilization that not many would even know to come looking there. Now, it looked like a crime scene. Imelda was right, there was so much blood around the space, much more than was healthy, much more than you wanted to see knowing that it belonged to the two men you were in love with. A constant, foreboding sickness pooled in your stomach at the sight and smell, its claws catching on the delicate skin of your throat as it clawed its way up towards your mouth. Fighting to swallow down the bile bubbling just under your jaw, you hesitantly stepped onto the earth below, dropping your broom where you landed and shakily approaching the center of the tiny clearing. 

You could see most of the struggle happened in the middle. The ground was still undisturbed, even after all this time— like the animals of the forest refused to go near it out of fear. Four sets of footprints dug into the soft grass below, one in front of another while two flanked on either side. Three kidnappers, you concluded. You could take three people. 

Squatting down towards the ground, you examined the first dried patch of blood. Time dyed the once crimson ichor the same color as the earth below, only the stark green of the grass leaving a trace of where the first boy had been struck. While the earth was the same, the air had had time to change, taking the scent of Ominis and Sebastian into its arms and carrying them away like leaves during the first snowfall of the season. Your only clue for which boy stood where you were now was revealed as the sun streamed through the tree branches above. The rays danced in the air around you, catching on a few hairs buried within the browned blood— pure, golden life against grotesque, dismal death. Ominis. Your throat began to close as tears threatened to tumble down your face. He had been struck over the head, that was the only logical conclusion. Head wounds bled a lot, much more than any other part of the body unless they struck a vein. This provided little solace for your scattered, panicked mind. Head wounds could also be fatal. You fingered at the softly vibrating wand in your pocket, calming your trembling slightly. He wasn’t dead, you told yourself, repeating it like a mantra as you stood up and began to make your way to the second patch of dried blood— not dead, not dead, not dead. 

One of the pairs of footprints had walked over to the second boy, the shapes noticeably smaller than the other two— perhaps a woman, or a wiry man? They seemed to take their time to get to the other boy, their footsteps precise and soft, almost dancer-like, before they became noticeably darker in the spot where they stopped. They stood there for some time— talking to him? Taunting him? Sebastian was angry, that much you could tell. His heels were dug deeper into the ground than the front of his foot, like he had skidded to a halt before quickly getting into dueling position. The trio must have had Ominis before they got to him. There was a slight dip in the ground behind his left foot, like he at one point considered turning and running for help but decided against it. It would be the biggest betrayal to him to leave a friend in need. You sighed, shaking your head slightly.

Stupid, stubborn Sebastian. 

As much as you hated to admit it, you loved that about him. You loved his unwavering loyalty— his bullheadedness. 

You heaved a breath, steeling yourself to approach the tree just beyond the brunette’s footprints. It truly did look like a boulder crashed into it. There was a notable concave in the front, about the diameter of a quaffle, maybe a little bit more. You approached the mark, leaning close to get an idea of what could have caused it. Your heart leapt into your throat at what you found, your hand trembling as you carefully pulled one of the loose pieces of bark away. There was more blood there— just a little bit, a small splatter from a quick impact. Nestled amongst the pale skin of the tree, much like the puddle across the clearing, were a few scattered pieces of hair. These were dark brown in color, the light making them look like bits of melted chocolate. Two head wounds— two heavily bleeding victims. 

You grappled hopelessly at the side of the tree, digging your fingernails into the bark as you leaned on it for support, dry heaving against the putrid bile that threatened to spill as the seconds ticked by. This was too much, you thought to yourself. You were never squeamish before— not when it was your own blood, your own wounds, at least. But, these were your best friends, the two people you loved more than anyone else in the world, and they were hurt. Not only that, but they were likely hurt, dying, dead, because of you. 

You thought they would be safe going to Hogsmeade without you, but it seems that they were in twice as much danger— take the fawns if you can’t get to the doe. Ominis and Sebastian, unsafe in their supposed safety. What a terrible oxymoron. 

Something small on the ground caught your attention, your eyes widening as a guttural sob poured from your tightened chest. You dropped to your knees where you stood, watching your hand from seemingly outside of your own body as your trembling fingers picked up a small, black button from the tall grass below. It was smooth in your hand as you ran your thumb across its surface, tears finally making their way down your face and splashing around it like a drizzle before a hurricane. 

You knew this button; it was the one from Sebastian’s cloak. You had been pestering him for weeks to get it fixed properly, tired of listening to him complain about having to sew it back on all the time and pricking his fingers on the needle. Whenever you offered to do it for him, or take it to Gladrags for him so Mr. Hill could do it proper, the brunette just kept shrugging you off, saying that he could fix it himself. It must have fallen off again in the struggle. 

You remembered your most recent conversation about that accursed button. You had been walking towards the Undercroft after Potions, laughing about Garreth’s most recent concoction, or more rather aptly, explosion, when the tiny black thing popped off his cloak, rolling away and lodging itself underneath one of the benches in the Transfiguration Courtyard. Sebastian sighed, a groan falling from his mouth as he leaned his head against the nearest column in annoyance, lightly hitting his forehead against it twice before pulling away and accio-ing the button back into his hand. 

He had turned to you again, frowning at the laugh that was barely contained in your smile, before bemoaning to you like a petulant child. “I really thought I got it to stay this time!” 

You remember laughing then, your hand patting his shoulder in a placating manner. “Can I fix it for you, now?” 

He smiled as soon as you came in contact with him, only for it to turn into a faux-exasperated sigh when you spoke. His hands fell onto your shoulders as he shook you lightly, a chuckle dancing at the corners of his words. 

“Such a Hufflepuff, you are! Always offering to help me with things.” He leaned closer, his forehead nearly touching yours as his voice dropped to a soft murmur. You remembered how hard your heart was beating. “Don’t you ever get tired of being so nice?” 

Your words were nothing more than a breath, a rouge blush creeping up your neck from the close proximity. If you leaned the tiniest bit closer, you could kiss him. For a moment, you thought he was going to do just that. 

“T-that’s part of my charm.” You cleared your throat, swallowing against your noticeable stutter. “How else am I going to keep you around?” 

He leaned away then, a mischievous smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth from your flustered state. “That it is. Though, I keep you around for more reasons than just your beguiling advantageousness.” 

He winked at you then before sighing again with a fake, lighthearted annoyance. “Fine, you win! You can fix my cloak. The button better stay on this time.” 

You remember the soft look that took over his face when you laughed loudly at his words, like the sun was shining on his face for the first time and all he could do was bask in its warmth, before offering you his elbow. 

“Oh how generous of you! I will get right on that, my liege.” 

You looped your arm through his, walking together once again to your little hidden piece of solitude to study and duel the rest of the day away. 

Now, in that little clearing that smelt of damp earth and old, stale blood, that tiny button had been left behind for what might be the last time. 

It was amazing, how such a small thing could have such a large impact on the world around it. 

With the weight of two lives heavy on your shoulders and the crushing pressure of heartbreak against your ribs, you finally let yourself sob, and cry, and wail, and grieve for the two friends who had been taken because of this magical gift that you never once asked for in the first place. 

Just as quick as it started, it was over. 

Ominis inhaled the air around him greedily once Leona’s hands unclenched themselves from around his throat, fighting against his body's need to drop everything and rest. His heartbeat pounded in his skull; he could feel the blood from whatever new wound he had seeping through the dirt covered floor, coating the edges of his ears and dyeing his hair a color that would rival any Weasley. The woman staggered to her feet, all of her grace gone momentarily from the obnoxious barbaric-ness of her actions. She brushed the dust from her clothes, smoothing down her wild nest of hair and wiping the fluids from her face. A sigh panted from her lips against the breaths she heaved into her throat. 

She at least had the decency to look somewhat ashamed of her actions. “Apologies, I lost myself there for a moment.” She cleared her throat, gesturing to the jockey closest to her. “Albathane, pick him up.” 

Her head turned to the side at the sound of the prison door being opened, Albathane’s heavy steps echoing off the walls, only for her to do a double take at the state of the other boy across from her. She smiled at his apparent distress— the tear tracks on his face, mingling with the dirt and grime that covered every inch of his skin, the delightfully crimson blood that bloomed on his knuckles, the waves of pure terror that shed from his curled form in the corner of his cage. 

She tisked, “Oh dear, that won’t do at all. No closing your eyes, little snake, I want you to see and hear every second of your friends' pain. I want you to watch me torture him and know that you could have stopped it.” A dastardly idea sparked a fuse in her brain as she got the attention of her other henchman. “Shunpike, bring him here, would you? I think it’s time we gave him a show.” 

A sinister grin spread across the face of the large man as he entered Sebastian’s cell. The boy fought desperately against the strong arms trying to corral him, throwing punches and kicks at the man but feeling no give at all in his grip— it was like fighting against a brick wall. He dragged the freckled boy out of the room by his hair, laughing at the silent swears that would make a sailor blush pouring from the brunette before aggressively shoving him against the bars holding Ominis and Leona. Shunpike grabbed Sebastian’s arms with one hand, the other still dug deep in his curls, and held him still like he weighed nothing more than a grain of sand. A look of pure horror spread across the boy’s face as he got a good, close look at his beloved— he couldn’t look away, couldn’t close his eyes even if he wanted to. 

Albathane tipped Ominis’ chair back to its upright position, yanking the blond’s head up to meet the gaze of the woman by his blood soaked hair and chuckling at the whimper of pain that exited the boy’s clenched teeth. A black eye was already beginning to bloom around the left side of his face, coloring the skin around his eye socket a concerning shade of purple and red. Leona smiled, her canines somehow more serrated and sharp like her disturbed behavior was the world's smoothest whetstone, and unsheathed the dagger hiding in her boot. The blade was curved like a raptors claw, the steel catching the bits of sunlight visible through the thick rock and revealing an intricately decorated handle. Her hand was wrapped tightly around the carving of two snakes, their bodies tangled together in a spiral up to the hilt of the blade where each of their heads were posed to strike the other. It looked like their fangs were made of actual bone— actual, real life snake fangs. Sebastian wouldn’t question it if venom was still intact in the silken teeth. The woman stalked towards Ominis, watching his resolve crumble with each step she took closer to him. He could hear the air break around her blade, and his heart skipped a beat in his chest. 

With one hand, she pressed her thumb against his brow and pulled the skin taut, widening his left eye and taking away his ability to close the lid. He jerked savagely against the binds cutting into his circulation, the skin of his bare wrists rubbed raw and bleeding from the coarse rope. Panic curled its tentacles around his still hoarse throat and squeezed as he hopelessly tried to move farther away from the dangerously sharp woman and her even sharper knife. When he felt the cold, unforgiving steel press against his under-eye skin, a hair's length from the delicate film of his cornea, everything in his body stilled; even the incessant belabor of his heart ceased its movement. 

Sebastian felt bile rise in his throat. 

They weren’t even torturing them for information anymore, they were doing it because it was fun. 

Ominis’ eyes flicked back and forth in a hysteric frenzy. He had never truly wished for sight before, not really, but at that moment he couldn’t decide if it was a blessing or a curse that he couldn’t see the feral smile on Leona’s face reflect in the blade. Blood pebbled where the dagger pressed into his skin— even the lightest touch scarring him from the sharpness. The woman’s eyes were wild as she watched the red dot drip down his cheek. 

“Do you like my new toy? Goblin forged— very sharp. One wrong move and—” She made a noise akin to a pop. The boy shivered at the insinuation, a whimper falling from his lips. 

The poacher hummed in thought, pretending to ponder her next move and prolonging the dread that pooled in the blond’s eyes. “What do you think would happen if I just slipped the blade up a little further? You’re already blind, after all. It would be as easy as using a melon baller.” 

The dagger slid minutely against his skin, the blade brushing against Ominis’ bottom lashes. He croaked strangled pleas of mercy, every ounce of rebellion that had once festered within him snuffing out like a bonfire during a rainstorm. Tears spilled over the sides of the steel, trailing downwards and catching on the dueling snake fangs— little drops of haunted venom falling to the ground below and wetting the sleeves of the woman threatening his life. He dare not move a single muscle lest the anlace move higher. 

Leona snickered at the blond’s cataclysmic fear. She relinquished her hold on his head, nodding at the other poacher to do the same, and moved the knife away from Ominis’ face. He could only sigh in relief for a moment before the curved blade made contact with his thigh, cutting through the flesh like butter and nearly scraping bone. White hot agony blazed through his blood, singeing his veins from where they ended in his toes and started in his brain as he fought desperately to stay conscious. Sebastian could only describe the blond’s sound as a harrowing, unbearable howl. He had never heard anything like it before— never wanted to hear anything like it again. 

The raven-haired huntress twisted the dagger, opening the wound even more and spilling a small river of blood into the earth. Her smile was colored ravenous. 

“Last chance, tell me where I can find your little friend and we’ll let you both go.” 

Swirling deep within his soul, Ominis felt his last, atom-sized iota of bravery. He harnessed it— letting it paint war-torn masterpieces across everything he could: his eyes, the curve of his angry frown, the tautness of his shoulders, and the coldness of his voice when he finally spoke. 

“We will never tell you where they are, never in a million years, no matter how much you try to torture it out of us.” His breathing was labored underneath the bravado, each word spoken through painful seizures of his lungs as whiteness crept up the corners of his blackened vision. “We would rather die.”

Leona sighed deeply, a falsely sympathetic frown turning her lips as she brushed some of the blond tresses of the boy behind his ear and cradled his face. “Pity, this could have been so much easier. I suppose we just have to lure them here some other way. We have their name, at least, thanks to you.” 

She turned to where Shunpike stood, still pressing Sebastian’s face into the solid metal bars. “Put him back in his cage, I’m nearly finished with this one.” 

Ominis gulped, fearful of what “nearly finished” could mean. With a wave of her wand, the chair underneath the boy as well as the ropes binding him still fell away, disappearing into the magic ether and sending him tumbling to the ground. He groaned, the shocks rippling through his body and reminding him of every other injury he had sustained in his time in this personal hell. The woman stood over his crumpled form, leveling her wand on his twitching body and dealing her final blow. 

“Crucio.”

A familiar pain flooded Ominis’ senses, and silent cries scratched at his throat. 

Sebastian counted the seconds she held the boy under the spell, each passing minute sending a renewed spike of terror through his heart. 

Five minutes. She held the curse steady for five minutes before she released him. 

The blond sobbed violently into the dirt below as flashbacks sliced through his memory. The sinister voices of his father, his mother, and his siblings rang loud like a church bell in his ears— their words of pure malice cutting down to the bone. Even still with the cruelty of his family, they had never held the curse for that long. 

His voice was nothing but a meek tremble as he whimpered into the ground. “Please…please just fucking kill me.” 

Leona laughed as she walked to the cell door, turning towards the boy once more and baring her teeth in a victorious smile. “Now where would the fun in that be?” 

She callously depulso’d him into the wall, watching as his head smacked backwards into the stone with a sickening crack. 

Shooting a wink at the trembling brunette and admiring the resignation in his tear-filled eyes, a distinct opposition of the living spark they once held, she took the arms of her partners and disappeared as quickly as they came. 

No matter how loud Sebastian yelled, how hard he pounded on the iron bars, Ominis did not move again.

***

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