#leander prewett

[lenorashore]

Meme dump for y'all and @rinrinrins-world 😂

[rypnami]

for the people asking about the picrew for my pfp, HERE IS THE LINK ! pirate au prewlow raaaggghh

@ps-cactus i believe you wanted it tee hee

[evaslytherpuff]

I’m speechless!!!😱😱 Also scared!!! This is insanely good!!!

Chapter 14

Sebastian Sallow 🔺️F!MC 🔺️ Leander Prewett

Tensions are building as emotions run high. Leander’s life hangs in the balance, and choices must be made.

Chapter Master List and Ao3

Tags: NSFW / Violence / Blood / Torture / Angst / Trauma / Dark Magic

Chapter 14: Trust Must Work Both Ways

Leander 

The insistent throb of pain in his chest made every heartbeat feel like fire, the pain spreading outwards in a wave with each pulse. It echoed in his head, his thoughts cloudy and fractured as he tried to open his eyes. It was so quiet, and he could feel a chill in the air, the scent of dirt mingled with a freshness that made him think of deep woodlands and clear, blue skies. It didn’t make sense. The last thing he remembered was the narrow chalk tunnels, running through the dark, and a girl screaming. 

Each time the world tried to flicker back to him, the pain intensified, but he couldn’t move his arms to try and ease it. The ground was cold and damp beneath his clothes, and when he tried to open his eyes to see, the blurry dimness was nothing more than smudges before him, illuminated in pale gold. 

Was this how it would all end? He tried to remember what happened, but the throbbing pain made it hard to focus. As he tried to place events in order in his memories, flashes of images presented themselves, all of them bleeding into one another as he rasped in wheezy breaths. His lungs burned. A woman with cold blue eyes. Luella Rookwood. A stinging slap to his face, rough hands dragging him. Miss Montgomery weeping. Pain. Always the pain.

The kitchen in Shell Cottage drifted in and out of his thoughts. He breathed in slowly, carefully, fancied he could hear the waves crashing on the shore, catch a glimpse of silken black hair and crystal blue eyes. He could hear her, she was speaking softly, her fingers touching his cheek. He wanted to retreat into the vision, it was safe there, it wouldn’t hurt anymore. 

“Lee, please, look at me,” her voice whispered, but there was an urgency to it. It didn’t match the peacefulness of the cottage. “Wake up. I need you to wake up, please.” 

His lashes fluttered, and a groan escaped him as the pain smashed into his chest anew. His head rolled, but gentle hands caught it and held him steady. He tried to swallow, his lips moving, but a mere croak came out. “MC?” 

He could hear her soft sniffles as though she was crying, and he blinked quickly, forcing his eyelids to open. Wincing at the glow of a fire torch, a hazy vision of MC came into view. She leaned over him, her hands holding his head.

”Oh, thank the Gods,” she gasped, gentle fingers smoothing back his hair. 

Gradually, his surroundings came into focus, the peaked canvas roof of a tent, a dirt floor. When he made to lift a hand to touch MC, bound ropes stopped him and he grunted, panic adding pressure to the awful pain in his chest as he tried to move. 

“Hold still,” she urged, holding up a potion bottle. His eyes felt itchy and tight as he focused on the little glass phial. Wiggenweld. “Open your mouth. I’m going to tip it in.” 

Her hand held his jaw as he parted his lips, and she eased his head back. The potion hit his tongue, his whole mouth tingling at the liquid relief. He was so thirsty. 

“You’re going to be alright,” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder at something. He wished he could move his arms. Her touch on his cheek pushed back against the agony. She smiled. “This time, I’m going to save you.”

He closed his eyes and swallowed the potion, focusing on the feel of her fingers stroking against his face, and let the drowsy feeling of sleep claim him again. 

MC

Her hands shook as she carefully eased Leander’s head back against the thick, wooden tent post, his eyes fluttering closed again. He was deathly pale under his freckles, his lips almost white, and it made for a sharp contrast against the blood. His cheek was slashed, and blood had trickled down from a wound on his head, his usually neatly combed hair sticky and mussed. His drowsiness frightened her, he didn't seem to know where he was, but when he had spoken her name, the relief had been palpable. 

They didn’t have much time. Sebastian could only distract for so long. Leaving the potion to work on Leander, MC crawled around him to the blonde girl tied against the pole at his back. She appeared relatively unharmed, just a split lip, likely from a swift blow to silence her. MC shook her shoulder and she groaned, blinking slowly before fixing a piercing gaze on her. She frowned, and then her face morphed with recognition. 

“You’re MC,” she said, clearing her throat. She sat up straighter, scowling at her bonds. “Did you do this?” 

MC scoffed and shook her head, narrowing her gaze a little as she studied the girl. She must be the one Leander had told her about, the new Auror who took McKinnon’s place. Her hair was pale blonde, her face as pretty as a little doll. She looked every bit the delicate maiden, but there was a strength in those eyes that spoke of determination and strong will. There had to be something about her considering she had made it through the Auror training program. 

“Are you injured?” MC asked, her eyes scanning down the slim frame beneath the Auror robes. 

“No, no I don’t think so,” she replied. Her intense gaze studied MC warily. “You are MC, aren’t you? The prisoner that Auror Prewett meets with.” 

MC aimed her wand towards the ropes, her face carefully impassive. “That’s me,” she said. “And you are his new partner. Apologies, I don’t recall your name.” 

“Montgomery,” she said, eyeing MC’s wand with a touch of wariness. “What are you doing?”

“Hold still. I’m going to cut the ropes and then I need your help. Leander is badly hurt, and I need to get him out of here.” 

She stiffened, her eyes flaring. “First name terms? How cosy.” 

MC fixed her with a hard stare, hoping that this girl didn’t start the sarcastic games that McKinnon seemed to favour. “Do you want me to cut you free, or not? Honestly, I don’t care either way. I just want to get Leander out of here before your worst nightmare comes through that door. Trust me, you do not want to face the camp Executioner.” 

Montgomery swallowed hard, her eyes darting towards the tent flaps that led outside, shifting nervously under her ropes. MC took little satisfaction in the flare of fear that flitted across Montgomery’s gaze, her patience was on a taut leash, her attention drawn to how Leander was faring. Reaching out a hand, she felt his forehead. It was cool to the touch, no fever.

“How bad is he?” Montgomery had twisted her head, trying to get a look at Leander behind her. “He was hit by a blasting hex from Luella Rookwood. His head hit a crate as he fell back.” 

“Not as well as I would like,” MC muttered, fresh hatred bubbling up for Rookwood’s spawn. She grit her teeth as she imagined Leander being hit, grimacing as she cast a slicing charm and the ropes fell apart, freeing the young Auror. MC shuffled back as Montgomery pushed the severed ropes free and brushed dust from her robe, shifting up stiffly and then gasping when she spotted Leander slumped behind her. There was concern in her eyes, but she recovered swiftly, her training kicking in as she did a quick scan of the tent, her mouth set into a firm line. 

“What is this place?”

“You’re in Scotland,” MC replied, crawling back to Leander to check on him. “This is an Ashwinder camp about three miles east of Bainburgh. I wouldn’t bother memorising the location, they move regularly to avoid discovery.” 

“They took our wands when they captured us,” Montgomery said, shuffling closer. “Any chance your plan to get us out involves retrieving them?” 

MC gave Montgomery a curious glance. Considering her dire circumstances, this Auror had a steel spine, and she was clearly ready to do whatever it took to help, including looking to an ex-prisoner for answers. There were none of the sly games that McKinnon had favoured, at least for now.

“You are going to trust me, then?” MC asked, looking Montgomery right in the eyes. 

“If it’s good enough for Auror Prewett, then yes, I will trust you,” she nodded. “What do we need to do?” 

A grudging respect for this Auror filtered through to MC, but she would still be keeping a close eye on her. She nodded towards a wooden bench on the far side of the tent. “Your wands should be on that table over there,” she said, pulling out another potion from her pocket. “Grab them, and then we need to get Leander awake enough so we can Apparate. I’m hoping he will be strong enough to travel that way.” 

As Montgomery hurried to search for the wands, MC gently took hold of Leander’s face, stroking his uninjured cheek. “I need you to wake up again, Lee,” she said, rising tension making her constantly glance towards the tent entrance. “Someone could come and check on you at any moment.”

His eyes fluttered, blinking open a bit quicker this time, the first dose of potion doing its work. She gently clasped his jaw, using her thumb to pull down his lower lip. “Another potion, Lee,” she murmured, meeting his bleary gaze. He managed a stiff nod and opened his mouth. “That’s it. This will help. Where does it hurt?” 

He swallowed down the potion and tried to move, wincing with a sharp intake of breath. “Chest…bad,” he wheezed. “Head…”

Sucking back tears at seeing him look so weak, fear dragging ice fingers down her spine, she leaned closer to him. “I need you to stay awake for me,” she urged, stroking back his hair. “I need to get you out of here. Do you think you could manage me Apparating you? Is that safe?” 

He nodded. “Do it,” he rasped. 

Swiftly cutting his ropes, she grabbed his shoulders as he slumped. Montgomery crouched beside her, the found wands in her hand. She helped MC steady Leander, her eyes far too curious as she looked between MC and him. 

“I’m going to assume nobody else in camp knows you are in here,” she said shrewdly, her eyes darting towards the door. “You risk the whole operation if you are caught assisting us.”

MC fixed her with another cold look. “I’ve got someone being a distraction, but it gives us minutes at best. I suggest you hold on to me, now.”

Both girls froze as the tent flap was shoved open, MC immediately snatching her wand into her grip and moving to block Leander. She thought she might actually faint with relief when Sebastian stepped in, quickly pulling the flap closed behind him. He looked tense, his eyes scanning the scene quickly before he hurried forward.

“Time to go, now,” he snapped, taking her arm. He glanced down at Leander and grimaced. “Shit, he doesn’t look good.” 

Montgomery was gaping, her eyes wide in shock. “Gods, you’re…you’re Sallow,” she gulped. 

Sebastian turned his gaze to her, seeing her properly for the first time. His lips curved into a smirk. “Indeed I am. Pleasure to meet you, Miss,” he said smoothly. He held out a hand towards her. “I assume you’re coming with us.”

“Auror Montgomery,” she mumbled, sliding a hesitant hand into Sebastian’s grip.

MC rolled her eyes at the blush that stained Montgomery’s cheeks as she wrapped her arm firmly around Leander, and tugged at Sebastian with the other hand. “Seb,” she hissed. 

As soon as Montgomery’s hand was firmly within his, he gave MC a nod, and that violent tug pulled behind her navel. It was mere seconds, but she felt the heavy drag in her arms as she clutched Leander, feeling the weight of bearing two as they were ripped through time and space. 

Sebastian

The landing was neither elegant or gentle as they crashed into the soft bed of wild grass. He hadn’t taken them too far, only to the Scottish border, a small spot near an old ruin of a castle. It was fully dark, a chill wind whipping across the exposed landscape. MC was clinging on to Prewett as if her life depended on it. From the looks of him, it was his life hanging in the balance, the blue tinge around his mouth suggested chest wounds and his pallor was very poor.

“Where the blazes are we?” Montgomery leapt to her feet, wand in hand as she scanned the darkened moor around them. “I thought you were taking us to get help. St Mungo’s would have been the better option.”

“For you, perhaps,” Sebastian muttered, more concerned about his own immediate problems. He reached for MC, grasping her elbow and tugging. “Come on, we need to get back to the camp before anyone notices we are missing.”

The tight, furious look on MC’s face told him he had a fight on his hands. Her fingers were curled into Prewett’s bloodied robe, and her chin lifted in that stubborn way of hers. “I’m not leaving him until I know he is alright,” she said flatly. 

“When they realise that the Aurors got out, it won’t take a genius to figure out who helped them when they discover you gone, too,” he pointed out, his own stubbornness kicking in. The mood back at camp had been restless, the Ashwinders hyped up by the scrap in the tunnels. Having prisoners to torment had their teeth gnashing eagerly, and things would sour really fast once they discovered the empty tent. He tightened his hold on MC, eyes dark and firm. “We need to go. Now. Let him go.” 

The flicker in her eyes, just a flash of pain that was quickly masked, but it revealed the double meaning behind those words. As soon as she could release her hold on Prewett, Sebastian had every intention of Apparating them both back to his tent, but her hands remained fisted tight in his robes, her mouth a tight line. Letting him go was more than just the physicality of it. She had to leave him here, in the dark. Injured, and in the hands of a stranger. That crack in her shield had revealed the panic, and the pain of having to let go. 

“I can’t just leave him,” MC said, her voice wavering slightly. Even her lips trembled. “He needs help.” 

“What exactly is going on here? You seem to be rather over familiar with Auror Prewett. Is there something afoot here that I should be aware of?” 

MC turned her attention towards the suspicious blonde Auror, her eyes hardening. Sebastian looked to her, too, but kept hold of MC’s arm. Montgomery was watching them through narrowed eyes, her wand not aimed at them, but ready in her grip. 

“There is nothing you need to be aware of,” MC said, her tone laced with ice. “Is it really so shocking that I would help him?” 

The wind whipped at their hair and clothing, but the rattle of Prewett’s wheezing breaths could still be heard. He coughed, blood staining his pale lips. As much as Sebastian could throttle the bastard through his fear of losing MC, to see him in this state was a sobering moment. He remembered Prewett as the stammering kid who still hadn’t grown into his feet at school, opening his big mouth without thinking, always trying to keep up with his peers but somehow managing to fall short every time. 

Look at him now. His robes were of fine quality. He was a fully fledged Auror, living a good life, and he had managed to capture the soft part of MC, and that was no easy task. Her shields were high and thick, but she had let him in. He’d always figured he hated Prewett, but perhaps it was merely envy. The bloke had carved himself a path through his struggles, he had done well, and it merely highlighted the mess Sebastian had managed of his own life. His ambitions had led him into darkness, whereas Prewett had strived to be better. Did he deserve to die in a field for his efforts just so Sebastian could keep MC close?

Sebastian found himself kneeling in the damp grass, pressing a hand to Prewett’s head to check for fever, his thoughts already racing through the various healing spells he knew through long hours of research. He heard MC’s sharp intake of breath, her cool hand clutching his arm. Had she thought he would hurt Prewett? Perhaps finish him off? It made his guts twist in shame because perhaps he was more than capable of doing just that. 

“It’s alright, MC. There is no fever, but his breathing suggests dangerous chest injury,” he said, aiming his wand towards Prewett’s sternum. “If his ribs are broken, they could have punctured his lungs. I can check.”

“Will he die?” MC asked desperately, as the tip of Sebastian’s wand glowed white.

A quick glance at her face revealed her fear despite the darkness of the wild moor around them, the weak light from his spell casting ghostly shadows on her taut expression. If Prewett died, it would crush her. If helping this damned Gryffindor didn’t prove how far he would go for her, then nothing else would. 

He shook his head. “Not if we help him.”

“I can’t believe what I am seeing,” Montgomery gasped, her eyes wide as she watched on. “An Ashwinder helping an Auror!”

Sebastian ignored her, allowing the spell to show him the cracked and ruined mess of Prewett’s ribs which were definitely broken, the images flickering before his eyes in black and white like an ink drawing. The spell he had learned during a study session with Ominis, researching ways that might help his old friend ‘see’ things. They had been amused at the illusions of their friends in skeletal forms, casting the spell on unsuspecting students at Hogwarts. At the time he hadn’t anticipated the uses he would need it for later in life, and now, staring at the ruin of Prewett’s chest cavity, he felt his stomach churn at the pain it must be inflicting on him. 

“You believe the hype that surrounds us, it seems, Montgomery. Perhaps we are not the monsters you think we are,” MC countered, eyeing Sebastian's wand movement as she gently stroked Prewett’s hair back. “How bad is it?”

Sebastian grimaced, meeting her worried expression with a shake of his head. “He needs a Healer. Broken ribs, most likely internal bleeding. I can mend the bones. I reset an Ashwinder’s broken leg once. It mended up a treat. As for the bleeding, that's a bit more tricky.” 

“He needs to go to St Mungo’s,” Montgomery insisted. “All Aurors have a designated bed available due to the violent nature of our work. He would be seen immediately.” 

“Then let's go,” MC said, already holding Prewett against her. His head rolled, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His eyelids flickered as though he would wake, but he remained limp in her embrace. Time was running out. 

“No, we can't,” Sebastian said, grabbing her arm. “I'm wanted in London. You are supposed to be under cover, and with that article printed in the Prophet about you, there will be suspicion on both sides. Damage limitation, MC. Let Auror Montgomery take Prewett in. We need to return to camp and keep up appearances. You've done your part. You got him out.” 

“Listen to him…” Prewett rasped, the effort of speech making him cough. Blood gurgled in his throat, his face contorted with pain. MC clutched at him, her hand fluttering like a panicked bird near his face.

“Right, that’s it,” Montgomery said, dropping to the grass on her knees. Her wand was put away, her hands reaching for Prewett. Grim determination settled over her features and she gave MC a pointed look. “I’ve got him. I’ll take him to St Mungo’s.”

For a tense few seconds, Sebastian eyed both women, certain that MC might shove the Auror away and disappear with Prewett alone. He kept his grip tight on her sleeve just in case. If Rookwood so much as caught a sniff of her arriving at St Mungo’s with an Auror in her arms, it would be over. 

Something softened on Montgomery’s face, and she placed a careful hand on MC’s. “Clearly, you think highly of him,” she said gently. “Don’t worry. I will make sure he is cared for. Go back to the camp. It’s what he would tell you to do, isn’t it?” 

Slowly, reluctantly, MC nodded and withdrew her hands. Sebastian put his arm around her, trying not to notice the way she was staring at Prewett as though it would be the last time. 

“I should be taking you back to London in charmed chains, but I will let it go just this once. You have surprised me, Sallow,” Montgomery said, wrapping her arm around Prewett to support his head. Her eyes gleamed in the darkness, pale light from the slither of moon peeking between swiftly moving clouds highlighting the pale blonde of her hair. “The reason I have this position is because you took out my predecessor. You are the most wanted murderer in our books, and yet, here you are saving not just me, but an old rival, too. Perhaps I should be thanking you.” 

“I’m not doing this for you,” he said coldly, narrowing his eyes. At the edge of his vision, he saw MC look up at him. This was for her, just as he had promised. Anything for her, even if it meant saving Prewett’s skin. “Get him out of here.” 

“Don’t let him die, please,” MC begged. 

The vulnerability in those words cut Sebastian like cold blades. He could feel her trembling and he held her closer, noting the puzzled curiosity on Montgomery’s face as she nodded. In the blink of an eye, they vanished, the crack of the magic splitting through the blustery night. MC buried her face into his chest, the shield completely slipping from her as she sagged, a sob tearing from her throat. 

MC

It mattered not that Sebastian had draped another blanket over her as she lay in his bunk. Still she shivered. Huddled into the smallest shape she could manage on the camp bed, the blankets drawn up to her chin, MC fought the tiredness that tightened her eyes. The tears had subsided, and she had to believe that Montgomery was good on her word, that Leander was safe in St Mungo’s. Yet, if she allowed her eyes to close, all she could see was his deathly pale face, the blood on his lips, and the terrifying sound of each rattling breath that echoed from his crushed chest tortured her memory. 

Fear was a strange companion. She was definitely no stranger to it, spending many hours crouched in the dark of Azkaban and facing terrors no human should have to. Fear for yourself was something she could grasp and own, swallow down and challenge. Fear for another person ate at you like a ravenous beast, its hungry teeth devouring everything inside of you in uncontrollable tremors that left you hollow and fractured. An unfortunate side effect of becoming attached to another person, of loving them and caring about them, was to face the devastating fear of losing them.

If she had ever doubted her attachment to Leander, she no longer did. The thought of her world without him in it left her cold. Especially since it had been her word that had sent him into those tunnels in the first place. If he died, then she had sent him to his death. 

A hand touched her shoulder, Sebastian’s shadow casting over the bed as he blocked the glow from the lamp on the table. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”

She could hear the worry in his voice, the plea for her to take down the wall she had slammed up around herself, but she merely shook her head and kept her face turned away. He had brought them back to the camp, immediately pouring her a fire whiskey that she had tried to push away, but he made her drink it promising it would warm her up. The drink had indeed burned all the way to her stomach, but the shivering had not stopped. 

Refusing any more of the horrid drink, she had let him tuck her into his bunk, murmuring reassurances that Leander would be okay. It still hadn’t fully sunk in how he had helped. Sebastian hated Leander, and she had given him good reason to want to hurt him, but he had done no such thing. She had shared Montgomery’s surprise, and needed to thank him for his kindness, but the words were stuck solid behind her fear. 

He had done it for her. I’ll do whatever it takes, MC. 

Her throat ached with fresh tears but she bit them back, swallowing down the softer parts of herself behind the safety of her thick walls. Not until she knew that Leander was alive and well would she allow herself to take a true, deep breath. 

Sebastian stroked her hair, the solid weight of him leaning against the side of the bunk a comfort despite the distance she had needed to put up. She felt the press of his lips at her temple and closed her eyes, a brief respite at the soft warmth, before the rustling of the tent doorway made her rigid once again. 

“Well, isn’t this cosy,” a soft, feminine voice drawled. 

If there was one thing you could say about her and Sebastian, it was how in tune they were when it came to that sense of threat. Sebastian was on his feet in one fluid motion, and she was upright, blankets thrown back and her feet hitting the floor just as fast. Once again, despite her superior power, Sebastian edged until he was slightly before her, ever the protector. 

Luella Rookwood stood in the entrance of the tent, her beautiful face decorated with smudges of dirt and splatters of blood. Her blonde curls were escaping from the pins that held it back, her mouth twisted in displeasure, her eyes spitting furious envy as she glared. 

“What do you want?” Sebastian asked carefully, his hand hovering at his wand holster.

Luella smirked, twirling a lock of hair in her fingers. “Not your usual greeting for me, Sebastian,” she drawled, her gaze lingering over him. “Is that for her benefit?”

MC forgot her fear for a moment, hatred pure and cold solidifying in her gut. The way this bitch tried to claim Sebastian merely added to the utter thirst for revenge that thrummed thick and hot through her blood. Luella had hurt Leander. She was the reason he had looked like Death could come to claim him. MC didn’t even remember doing it, but her wand was already in her hand, her fingers clamped around the handle like a vice. 

“Get out,” MC hissed, barely hanging on to the threads of her control. 

Luella lifted an eyebrow in bored curiosity. “Are you threatening me, little prisoner?”

MC felt Sebastian’s touch against her lower back, a silent warning. “Nobody is threatening anyone,” he said softly, but MC heard the tell tale silky tone in his voice. It was the voice he used in the duelling pit, smooth and controlled, but behind it was a storm waiting to be unleashed. “Why are you here, Luella? It’s late.”

“And yet, Daddy’s little pet is here, tucked up all snug in your bed,” she said, moving closer, slow and deliberate like a prowling cat. “Does my father know you’re playing with his new toy?” 

“No more than he knew about us,” Sebastian said smoothly. 

The smirk that curved Luella’s mouth made MC’s blood curdle, her fingers adjusting around her wand. “What’s the matter little prisoner? You look a little tense. You did know that I used to share that bed once, hmm? Something tells me that I was merely keeping it warm, though. A convenient bit of fun until you crawled back out of Azkaban.” 

It was hard to tell if the reproachful look she gave Sebastian was genuine or not. Either way, MC felt rage blister up her spine, her limbs trembling for a completely different reason now. She felt Sebastian grip the back of her blouse, but it didn’t stop the surge of power that coursed through her veins. Her ancient magic truly did thrive on powerful emotions, and MC felt like she might actually implode from the spinning web of feelings assaulting her this evening. 

Luella’s eyes widened and she took a hesitant step back, her hand grasping for her wand. “Gods, look at her eyes,” she muttered, throwing Sebastian a bewildered glance. “What’s happening to her?” 

Sebastian’s lips twitched upwards, a look that bordered on the edge of pride lighting his eyes. “Isn’t she quite marvellous?” He said, his fingers caressing up and down her spine. “All that power, just waiting to be unleashed. It’s easy to see why your father is quite taken by her. A true rarity in the world.” 

Luella lifted her chin, her mouth settling into an entitled pout, her wand at the ready. “Father always did like his trinkets and toys, although he tires of them quickly, discarding them for something newer and prettier. Something you have in common with him, Sebastian.” 

Luella’s eyes glittered with challenge. Clearly, her ego suffered at his rejection. MC grit her teeth, sick of the fancy word play. Her magic seemed to crackle and fizz at her fingertips, the tremor visible in her wand hand as she aimed towards Luella’s stylish, black boots. The short, sharp blast of white hot magic erupted from the end of her wand, striking the floor of the tent right before Luella’s feet. The whole space lit up with the ancient magic glow, making all three of them wince. Luella yelped and jumped back, but not before the magic had scorched the lower parts of her trousers and ruined the fine leather of her boots. 

Her head jerked upwards, blonde curls bouncing as she fixed her enraged eyes on MC. “You dare to strike at me!” She hissed. 

Sebastian had his wand up and ready, his hand once again grasping the back of her shirt. MC had the growing suspicion that he clung on to her in fear that she might disappear. He seemed reluctant to leave her side, and kept a constant hand on her. Reigning in the surging power of her magic, MC sucked in a steadying breath, but kept her aim on Luella. 

“I’m going to make you squeal in pain, little prisoner,” Luella vowed, her eyes narrow slits of hate. “I’ll make you fear every mirror you come across knowing the horror your own reflection will provide once I’m through with you.” 

“Now, now, Luella, my sweet. Less of the dramatics, if you would. That is no way to speak to my guest,” Rookwood said smoothly, entering the tent behind his daughter with his usual air of confidence and flair. He smiled with all the icy charm of a venomous snake, his gaze sweeping around the tent whilst wrinkling his nose in disdain. “My word, Sallow. This tent is rather lacklustre. You ought to upgrade, dear boy. Put your wand work to good use other than for torture and death, and transfigure yourself some more luxurious furnishings.” 

Luella quietly seethed beside her father, her cheeks flushed and her fists clenched at her sides. “Look what she did to my boots,” she said, pointing down towards her feet, her words ground out through clenched teeth. 

Rookwood barely gave them a second glance before he shrugged. “Conjure yourself a new pair,” he suggested. 

“Are you joking?” Luella scoffed, her mouth tightening. “These boots came from Paris, the finest craftsmanship there is! There is no conjuring a pair such as these.” 

Rookwood sighed and pinched his thumb and forefinger at the bridge of his nose. “Then return to Paris for a new pair if it means that much to you. I care little,” he said, his voice thin on patience. He gave them all a withering look. “Now then, what’s all this petty squabbling about? I sent you over here to ask Sallow about the missing prisoners. Where are we on that matter, daughter dearest? May I remind you that my patience is already dangerously thin after this evening's series of events. Some good news would be most welcome now.” 

MC shuffled closer towards Sebastian and she could feel the tension in his grip on the back of her shirt. This is where they needed to play it calm and steady. MC gripped her wand with both hands and settled her features into the blank, cold stare she so favoured. 

“Your daughter barged in here and disturbed my rest,” she said, her voice cool and level. “After days hiking through the Highlands on the hunt for ancient magic deposits, I was feeling rather exhausted and retired early. I’m not sure I appreciate being awoken and threatened in such a manner.” 

Luella glared with outright hatred, her eyes wide at the sheer audacity. Sebastian dipped his head, no doubt fighting a smirk. 

“You were sleeping? So, you missed the drama concerning the Auror ambush?” Rookwood asked his questions, his cold, blue eyes assessing her carefully. 

MC tilted her chin upwards as she nodded to confirm. “Sebastian was just filling me in on tonight’s news when Luella charged in here. I’m not sure I appreciate such hostility. It’s also rather dangerous considering how charged my magic is after absorbing new deposits. It can be rather unstable and difficult to control. I’m afraid some magic unleashed itself and damaged Miss Rookwood’s footwear.” 

The lies rolled easily from MC’s tongue, spoken to appeal to Rookwood’s sheer greed over her magic as a means of distraction. It appeared to work, his eyes lighting up at the mention of her absorbing more power. “You were successful in your search, then?” 

“Indeed we were,” Sebastian said, his voice dripping with cool confidence. “And we think it should be easier to find more now. It appears the deposits could be linked to deep emotions, and we plan to continue the search. With your blessing, of course.” 

“Of course,” Rookwood said, dipping forward in a slight bow. “And you shall have it.” 

Luella folded her arms, her face screwed up in frustrated disgust. “This still doesn’t explain how my Aurors managed to escape from the prisoner tent,” she fumed. 

“That sounds rather close to an accusation, Luella,” Sebastian said, tilting his head. “Are you suggesting MC had something to do with their escape?” 

MC arranged her features into a grimace. “Why in Merlin’s name would I help any bloody Aurors? I’ve spent the last few years locked up behind bars because of those pricks, I can’t say liberating one of them is high on my list of priorities.” 

“Indeed,” Rookwood said, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against his chin. “In this case there were two captured Aurors.” 

“One of them was a tall redhead by the name of Prewett,” Luella said, her face now sickeningly smug. “I remembered you mentioning this particular Auror before, Sebastian. Isn’t he the one who visited you in Azkaban, little prisoner? He escorted you out as well by all accounts. I thought a little reunion might have been particularly interesting. The fact he managed to get away whilst crippled by injuries is both puzzling and disappointing.” 

MC felt fear begin to trickle down her spine. This bitch knew too much about Leander already. “I remember him,” she said stiffly. “I can’t say I’m in a hurry to see him again, either.” 

How bitter the words tasted on her tongue when her entire being itched to travel to London and lay eyes on Leander. The need to see him alive and healed pressed with an urgency that made her want to fidget, but she held herself firm. 

“Not even to whisper secrets into his ear?” Rookwood leant forward, his gaze so piercing that MC fancied it felt like ice scraping along her bones. “The Daily Prophet deems you a public risk, and the Ministry claims they have it all under control. It’s a tricky situation. I have you here in the midst of my family where you can hear all sorts of wonderfully dark secrets, and now prisoners are disappearing, my lock ups are being raided. Tell me, sweet one, what you would think in my position?” 

MC refused to cower under his scrutiny. She had faced Dementors, she had stared into darkness that tried to clutch her within its grasp and chase all reason from her head. This was just a far reaching, greedy man and she was sick of all the game playing. She could handle this. She felt her spine stiffen, her face became hard and cold, her eyes glittering chips of stone to equal his. She had become one with her wall of defence, all that was soft and vulnerable so deeply hidden by this cold fury she presented that it could have been non-existent. 

“I suppose that all depends on what it is you truly want, Rookwood,” she said carefully, tilting her head as though pondering his question. “I mean, if it bothers you so much, I could always just leave. Without me, there is no power, the problem goes away. I shall continue to research and grow my understanding of what I am capable of regardless of your involvement. You have ambitions. I get that. It seems to me that you need me more than I need you, though. Choose what you wish to believe, but don’t play games with me, and don’t send your daughter into my private space so she can throw accusations and threats around. Next time, I won’t be so polite, and perhaps it will be more than a pair of scorched boots for her trouble.” 

Luella gaped, incredulous. “Are you hearing this, father? You see how she threatens me to our very faces?” 

Rookwood considered MC carefully, his eyes subtly narrowing as he rubbed thoughtfully at his chin. When his gaze flicked towards Sebastian, a slight frown creased his brow. “You truly are a cold little thing, aren’t you? And yet, Sallow appears unaffected by you. He stands as if he would protect you, unflinching. What hold do you have over him, hmm? You killed his kin in cold blood, and yet he remains loyal to you.” 

MC shrugged, seemingly unconcerned, whilst her heart thudded with a frenzied rhythm beneath her ribs. “He has the same choice as you, Rookwood. He can stay, or he can leave. Either way, it makes no difference to me, or my magic. But, he has been with me since the beginning. He understands. He also knows that I could kill him at any moment, I could kill anyone. Ashwinder, Auror, or otherwise. I’ve been crossed by all of you and the only person I fully trust is myself.” 

It took everything she had to stop her hands from shaking, from breathing in rapid gasps, as she pondered the truth of that statement. 

“I’ve seen what she can do, Rookwood,” Sebastian said, following the thread she had begun to weave with his habitual confidence. “You’ve seen it, too. Mere glimpses perhaps, but you know as well as I that MC is dangerous. The Ministry knows it just as well, and I don’t doubt that they will have eyes on her. They would be fools not to. I also believe that MC hasn’t reached her full potential yet, there has to be more. Are you willing to suffocate that over a pair of missing Aurors that mean little to this cause? They were nothing more than toys for your Ashwinders to break, and yet you risked having them here in camp where they could lay eyes on MC. What if they did hear she was present? They now have that information to take back to the Auror Office. You risk them coming to claim her back under the ruse of arrest.” 

Rookwood threw a disgusted glare towards Luella, who flinched back in surprise. “The boy has a point,” he snarled. 

“You would take their side over your own daughter?” She cried, spluttering in disbelief. “Are you seriously going to believe all this graphorn shit they are speaking?”

MC could have hugged Sebastian right then for his clever manipulation of words. He had always been able to squirm his way out of trouble, deflecting attention by highlighting points that pressed upon a person’s weaknesses. He was dangerous when it came to these types of games, and she was fully aware of how she was equally liable to fall for it. His tenacity had always been a trait that she had admired, though. 

Rookwood’s mouth was a white line, his usual theatrical presence squashed under a temper that flickered cold fire in his gaze. “These two bring me news of success in the form of discovered deposits. You bring me chaos and two problems in the form of escaped prisoners who now have potential intelligence on us. You who should know better!” 

Luella’s cheeks flushed scarlet, her eyes darting towards MC, who couldn’t resist a cold, satisfied smirk in return. The indignation on her face was far too satisfying for words, so instead, MC reached out a hand and caught hold of Sebastian’s, linking their fingers in a bold statement of unity. That’s right, bitch. He is mine. 

“Sebastian and I intended to return to the search for more deposits at first light. Is that going to be a problem?” MC asked, her tone exceptionally calm and innocent. 

Rookwood turned his granite expression her way, his eyes scanning them both in a way that made her palms itch. “Do what you must. Absorb all deposits you come across,” he nodded. He turned and grasped Luella by the elbow. “As for you, daughter of mine. We have matters to discuss in private.” 

With a gentleman’s bow and a tip of his top hat, Rookwood exited the tent with a furious Luella in tow, the last look she threw back towards MC livid with a promise that this wasn’t over. 

MC stood completely still, her fingers gripping Sebastian’s hand as the sound of departing footsteps receded from the tent. The opening fell closed, flapping gently in the night breeze that came down off the surrounding high peaks. She could hear her own restrained breathing, the erratic pulse in her ears from the effort of maintaining such tight control. It had been too easy. Rookwood had rolled over without any push back at all, and it left her uneasy. 

Sebastian let out a long sigh as though he, too, felt the tension. He pushed his fingers through his mop of hair and brought their clasped hands to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “You are brilliant,” he said quietly. She lifted her gaze to him, the strength of her barriers wobbling. “Scary, but brilliant.” 

One look at those chocolate coloured eyes and the defences fell. She sagged, shaking from the adrenaline and stunned at her own audacity. Of course, he caught her. She was held against his chest as he wrapped strong arms around her, her own hands clutching at his jacket in an effort to ground herself. 

“I’ve got a really horrible feeling about this, Seb,” she whispered. She closed her eyes, remembering the flash of furious envy in Luella’s eyes when she noticed the deliberate way MC had held Sebastian’s hand. In trying to show a front of strength, she had allowed her own jealousy to get the better of her, and she had shown her hand in more ways than one. 

“You weren’t wrong, MC. You do hold all the power, and that is just what Rookwood wants,” Sebastian said, stroking soothing hands down her back. “It will be alright. You’ll see.” 

“We should just cut our losses and kill him now,” she said, lifting her head to look at him. “We could do it easily. Kill him, take what we can, and run, before anyone else has to get hurt.” 

“If you think it’s easy to get access to his collections, think again. They are well hidden and guarded. Killing him now will cut us off to all the artefacts and knowledge he has stored, all the items that belonged to Isadora that he stole. I know how much you want those,” Sebastian said, cupping her face. “Not only that, what’s to stop the Ministry arresting you for his murder again? They can claim you are unstable, you broke the terms of your probation, and they could throw you back into Azkaban in order to keep you under control. I am not going to risk that happening again, MC.” 

“How many more people have to get hurt, or even die because of this cursed magic festering in my veins,” she hissed, clenching her hands in frustration as angry tears burned under her lids. “Why did it have to be me? Why did I have to be given this power? I don’t want it, Sebastian. I hate it!” 

“Hey, hey, easy now,” he soothed, making her look up at him, his thumbs easing across her cheeks. “Take a breath. You’ve got this, MC. Your power is a gift, and I don’t know anyone else who could handle it as beautifully as you do. You amaze me with your strength, your ability to keep that gorgeous head up despite everything that gets thrown at you.” 

She stared at him, her eyes softening slightly. “You and that smooth talking mouth of yours, Sallow,” she huffed. 

A smile flashed on his lips, but a shadow of concern drifted into his eyes just as quickly. “This defeatist talk. Is it because of Prewett and what happened this evening?” 

MC dipped her gaze to his neck, her fingers toying at the open collar of his black shirt as she swallowed past the ache in her throat. “He could have died. Seeing him like that…” She paused, horror clamping her in a vice. She closed her eyes and took a breath. “It was my fault. He wouldn’t have been in those tunnels if I hadn’t told him about them. You were right. It was me. I sent word to him, and now he is in St Mungo’s fighting for his life. All because of me.” 

A muscle ticked in Sebastian’s jaw. “How did you tell him?” 

Warmth crept across her cheeks, but she didn’t flinch or hide from him. “We have a secret method of communication. Please, don’t ask me to explain. The less you know about it, the better. Just in case this all goes to shit.” 

“You know trust needs to work both ways,” he said quietly, his eyes guarded. “You said you wanted to trust me, but I need to be able to trust you, too.” 

She nodded. “You’re right, of course,” she said. “Any other information you share with me, I will tell you if I intend to share it with Leander. Like you said, we are all on the same side here.” 

Sebastian held on to his wariness, but he was gentle as he held her chin and bent his head to hers. “It will be a cold day in hell before I trust an Auror, but I hear you. Thank you for telling me the truth.” 

His lips were warm and soft, and MC welcomed the feel of his kiss, drawing a little comfort from the intimacy. Each kiss, each caress of his hands eased the tightness in her tense muscles, added a seal to the spoken bond of trust they needed to enforce between them. Her blood fired with a different kind of magic that came from the unexplainable pull he had on her, their bodies seeming to have an understanding far beyond their comprehension. 

Once again, she found herself curled against him, his arms holding her close as they drowsed on the edge of sleep. His hands roamed up and down her back, shaping her hips and sliding contentedly along her thigh. The occasional soft brush of lips against her face, ear and neck sent shivers across her flesh. As intimate and as comforting this shared closeness felt, MC could not shake that uneasy niggle that something wasn’t quite right. 

The hour was very late when she whispered in his ear that she needed to excuse herself for a moment. He mumbled sleepily, a soft smile lingering on his lips after she pressed a long kiss there before slipping from the warmth of his bed. The air was cold, goosebumps prickling her skin as she pulled on her boots and selected a warm robe from her chest. Pausing at the tent entrance, she glanced back towards the bed, soaking in the image of Sebastian asleep, his hair tumbled against the pillow. 

“Please, trust me,” she whispered. “I’ll be right back.” 

Quietly slipping out into the night, her breath fogged before her face as she hurried away from the tent, not wanting the snap of her Disapparating to wake him. The stars shone above her head, innocent observers to the dark and twisted lives that played out below. Under the cover of some nearby trees, MC felt a flutter of anticipation behind her ribs, bracing herself for the long distance she needed to propel herself across. Closing her eyes, she pictured the city of London, her focus centred on the aged cobbled street of Diagon Alley. 

In the shadow of the pitched tents in camp, a figure stood very still, eyes watching as the robed figure of MC left the tent and hurried into the trees. After the crack of her magic made her vanish, a slow grin spread across a knowing mouth, and the figure turned to go and make their report. 

Leander 

Arriving at St Mungo’s and being tended by Healers became a patchwork of hazy memories that came to Leander in jumbled flashes. The pain in his chest cancelled a lot of lucid moments out, the bitter taste of blood thick in his mouth. Words of reassurance had been spoken into his ear, the gentle hands of Auror Montgomery touching to his brow in hesitant comfort before the Healers had urged her to leave him to rest. In the silence of his designated hospital room, the tangled web of his memories rushed in, and his slowly healing chest began to quicken as he remembered MC being there, the tears on her cheeks. Perhaps most shocking of all, was Sallow. He had helped her. He had helped him. 

The healing potions and spells had been strong, knocking him out into a deep, restful sleep. His ribs had begun to knit together, the cracks and breaks becoming smooth bone as though they had never been ruined. His lungs repaired, making his breaths return to their gentle rhythm once more. His head had been cleaned, his hair neatly combed, the wound at the back soon to be a distant, painful memory. Even his hospital issued robe was free of any stain, a spotless, crisp white, edged in blue. The beauty of magic being able to erase all physical traces. The mental struggle was another matter entirely.

Waking from his sleep, Leander blinked slowly against the low light of a bedside lantern, the room still and quiet. There was a lingering ache in his chest, but he could breathe freely, rolling his head against the plush pillow and then stilling as he realised the warm pressure of a hand clasped with his. Glancing down, a swift breath left his lips in surprise at the sight of MC.

Seated in a hard hospital chair, her head was laying against his bed sheets, her dark hair pooled against the starched white, her hand wrapped around his as she slept. There were dark smudges under her closed eyes, but her features were relaxed, lips slightly parted. There was nobody else in the room, but he couldn’t help but wonder how long she had been there, and if anyone had seen the familiar way she lay with him. It was a risk to be caught with her like this, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull his hand from her grip. Instead, he kept still, watching her rest as he had done so many nights when she had stayed with him, his thumb gently stroking against her warm skin. 

He must have dozed off again, because the next thing he knew, he felt the press of a kiss to his forehead. Blinking his eyes open, he stared up into flawless, spring sky blue, a smile lingering on MC’s face as she stared down at him. 

“Ah, so you’ve decided to join the land of the living after all,” MC said softly, she gave his hand a squeeze, a shadow flickering in her gaze. “You scared me, Lee. Don’t you dare do that again, you hear? I forbid it.” 

Amusement twitched at his mouth. “And miss waking up to this beautiful smile? I shall have to think about it.” 

Her lips parted and she huffed a short laugh. “Leander Prewett, when did you become such a smooth talker?” 

“I’m not entirely sure,” he grinned. “It could be all the potions and medicine I’ve swallowed giving me superpowers.” 

“All the pretty nurses had better watch out, then,” she smiled, moving back to sit on the edge of the bed, although she kept hold of his hand. He could feel the warmth of it spreading up his arm, but reminded himself not to read too much into it. 

“You are taking a risk being here with me,” he said, his voice a little raspy still. “Especially after that ridiculous report in the Daily Prophet. If you are seen with me it could jeopardise you in the camp.” 

Her face darkened and she looked down at their joined hands. “It might be a bit late for that. I think I have fucked up anyway. I’ve got a bad feeling, Lee. Something just feels off, and I don’t like it.” 

“What do you mean? Tell me,” he urged, frowning slightly as he tried to sit up a bit more. She put her hand against his shoulder and pressed him back against the pillows with a firm look. 

“Just remember you are here to heal and rest,” she said, holding him there until he allowed himself to relax. Slipping her hand back into her lap, she glanced towards the door and leant closer to murmur quietly. “Rookwood is rolling over too easily. I don’t like how he just accepts everything that I say with a smile. He fucked me over once before, there is no reason for him to not try it again. I know he already has an idea to drain the ancient magic from me, but I can’t get rid of this nagging that there is something else.” 

Leander’s frown deepened and he pushed back against the fog lingering at the edges of his memories, rubbing his face as he tried to remember his conversation with Andrew Larson before the raid on the tunnels. 

“I mentioned Merlin and Morgana to Andrew, and he did find a few documents about them, although there was only a very brief mention of ancient magic,” he said. He gave her a curious look. “He did say something about Rackham, though. He is one of the Keepers below Hogwarts, isn’t he?” 

MC nodded. “Yes, he was a vessel of ancient magic, too. It was his portrait that I spoke to the most about it during my time at Hogwarts. He gave me the impression that he led the other three, but despite the words of wisdom he offered me, I always felt as though he was holding back. All three of them did, to be honest.” 

“Andrew tells me that there is a lot more to be discovered when it comes to Rackham, that there are files in the Department of Mysteries about him and his visions. He was a Seer, and whatever he relayed to the Ministry is kept under strict lock and key. This isn't an unusual practice. Predictions about the future can be dangerous if in the wrong hands.” 

“What if the visions are about a particular person? Do they not have the right to view these predictions?” MC asked, her chin tilting upwards. “Do you think there are predictions about me in there?” 

“I honestly have no idea,” he said, shaking his head. “I suppose it is possible considering the ability you both share. I don't have access to the Department of Mysteries and neither does Andrew up to a point. We have spoken before about how secretive they are.” 

MC looked deep in thought, her teeth worrying at her lower lip for a moment as she stared blankly across the room. “Maybe it is time that I paid a visit to Professor Rackham again,” she said, her voice tinged with reluctance. She gave him a dark, resigned look. “It would mean returning to Hogwarts and the chamber beneath. I can’t say the idea is all that appealing, but if I explain the situation, perhaps I can get Rackham to talk.” 

“I can speak to the Head of the Auror Office and set things in motion with Headmaster Black,” Leander offered, that eager feeling washing through him at the thought of getting back to work. “I can go to Hogwarts with you, if you wish. You don’t have to go alone.” 

Her eyes seemed full of sadness as she looked at him, her other hand shifting to close over both of their clasped ones. “You really are too good for this world, Lee. Look at you offering to follow me into even more trouble when you’re lying here in this hospital bed. You don’t deserve such darkness, especially from me,” she said, blinking quickly as she dropped her gaze. 

“Hey, I didn’t take the role of an Auror expecting rainbows and unicorns, MC. Getting hurt is a risk, but it’s part of the territory. It’s why they reserve beds for us here. Don’t take the responsibility of this onto your own shoulders. I won’t let you,” he insisted. 

She gave a nod, but avoided his gaze, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Do it. Set up a visit to Hogwarts, and as soon as possible. I don’t want to give Rookwood too much time with his plotting. Sebastian and I are going to keep away from the camp for a few days under the ruse of seeking out more deposits for me to absorb.” 

“A ruse?” He frowned. “What will you really be doing?” 

MC leaned even closer, her eyes darting towards the door again. “I want to revisit Isadora’s old haunts, maybe there was something I missed the first time around,” she whispered. “I also want to track down more information about my mother. If she truly still lives, I want to find her. Ominis is helping me with that. His aunt, my mother’s sister, left him her house in Norfolk, and he has given me permission to go there and read some old family journals that may help. Rookwood must not know about my connection to the Gaunts. I’d rather Marvolo Gaunt doesn’t find out, either.” 

“Okay. Just be careful,” he nodded, holding her hand a little bit tighter. His other hand drifted up to brush back strands of her hair, his fingertips grazing against the shell of her ear. “And stay in touch via the parchment. I cannot help but worry about you.” 

“Only if you do the same,” she said, meeting his gaze. 

He couldn’t stop the pleased smile curving his mouth. “You worry about me?” 

“That is not what I said, Prewett,” she said, sitting up primly, but warmth lingered in her eyes. 

Leander would have loved to say more, to tease more smiles to her mouth, but the door to his room opened. MC jolted and slid her hand from his, rising quickly to her feet as she turned to face the door. The loss of her warmth was regrettable, but he too had stiffened in the bed as Auror Montgomery entered, pausing in surprise to see MC standing there. Leander felt his cheeks and neck heat up, adjusting his bed sheet nervously. 

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Montgomery said, her own cheeks reddening. “I didn’t expect you to have visitors already at this hour.” 

Her gaze darted curiously between MC and himself, and he cleared his throat, his jumbled thoughts grasping for something to say, but MC seemed to have things under control. She stepped towards Montgomery. 

“I should be the one to apologise,” she said smoothly. “I took a risk coming here tonight, but I needed to make sure that Lea…erm, Auror Prewett was well. I thought a visit during the day would raise too many questions.” 

Montgomery arched a brow. “And your visit now doesn’t warrant a few curious questions?” 

MC stiffened. “Considering I saved your neck tonight, any questions you may think you have will surely be kept behind closed lips. Lives are at risk, Auror Montgomery, including your own now that the Ashwinders know your face.” 

Leander bit his lip as the two women stared each other down. He had become so accustomed to the rare warmth that MC allowed him to see, that to witness the colder, harder side of her still managed to make him shiver. Perhaps more surprising, was the way Montgomery kept her head up, and rather than cower under what was surely a hard glare in MC’s eyes, she merely nodded. 

“I must thank you for your assistance. You did indeed save our lives tonight, both you and Mr Sallow have my sincere thanks,” Montgomery said. “I did not expect it from Sallow. You will forgive my surprise that he leant a hand.” 

“All you have heard about Sebastian is what the Aurors want you to hear,” MC said. “I am fortunate to know him better than that. Things aren’t always what they appear to be, Montgomery. Now, if you will excuse me, I must return to Scotland before I am missed.” 

When MC turned to him, Leander saw the hardened expression on her face, but for him, she allowed a softness to darken her eyes. “Rest up now, Prewett,” she said. “I will be in touch.” 

Leander nodded, his eyes doing the talking, and then she was gone, walking swiftly out of the door into the corridor beyond. Montgomery watched her go before closing the door softly, her gaze turning to him with burning curiosity. 

“Before you say anything, MC is right. The less you know about her, the safer you will be,” he said quickly, holding up a hand. 

Montgomery moved closer towards the bed, her hands smoothing the front of her skirts. “The last thing I would ever wish to do is cause you any trouble, Prewett,” she said carefully, but her eyes were still lit with that burning curiosity. “But, anyone who sees the two of you together can clearly see that there is something between you. You did not see what I did whilst you were badly hurt. This is much more than an Auror and his informant. That girl cares for you, and deeply. Only a fool would not see it.” 

“I have known her for a very long time,” he said, reaching up to fiddle with the front of the hospital gown. “We were friends as children, school friends. That was partly the reason Harrington assigned me to her case in the first place, thinking that our previous bond would be beneficial in coaxing her to cooperate.” 

Montgomery frowned slightly as she sat in the chair that MC had used, her back perfectly straight, hands clasped in her lap. “Well, I must say it seems to have worked wonderfully well. She seems rather taken with you. It is puzzling, though. From reading the case files, I thought that she was romantically involved with Sallow. He was awfully touchy with her. You could almost say possessive. I am still in shock how he helped us, he is not what I expected at all.” 

Leander closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the pillow, a wave of exhaustion sweeping over him. “What can I say? This is a complicated case.” 

Never had a statement been more appropriate. Montgomery eyed him, lifting a hand as though to place it on his forearm, and then thought better of it. She pulled a piece of parchment from her pocket instead and tucked it into his hand. 

“I can see you are tired, but the reason I came is to give you this,” she said, her eyes lighting up with that fire and spirit he had come to recognise. His fingers curled around the smooth parchment. “I swiped it from the office just now and came straight here. The other Aurors were more successful in the tunnels, they have seized many crates of valuable items that are being assessed as we speak. There was also a ledger full of names and dates, but this…this is a map of other locations situated around the British Isles. These could be more storage locations, or dens, perhaps.” 

Leander sat up straighter and opened the folded parchment, his tiredness forgotten. “This is huge, Montgomery. Why did you bring it to me? Surely Harrington and the others will be already planning to investigate these locations.” 

She smiled, her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “They would if they knew about it. I happened to be having a poke around the books they had seized, and this fell out of one. When I saw it was a map, my curiosity got the better of me, and then I knew it would be of importance when I saw the symbol at the top.” 

She reached forward to point at the little swirling icon near the top, and it was only then that Leander noted the date in the top corner. He met Montgomery’s amber eyes, his own curiosity firing into life. “That is the symbol for ancient magic,” he whispered. “How did you know that?” 

Montgomery blushed furiously and twisted her hands in her lap. “Well, you see, I was a second year when MC came to Hogwarts. When the truth about her spread around the school, I was in awe of her, and the magic that she could wield. I have been reading anything that I could get my hands on about ancient magic, which to be honest is very little. She fascinates me. I couldn’t believe my luck when I landed a position on this case, and to be partnered with you of all Aurors. You have a connection to the woman herself!” 

Leander stared at Montgomery, his lips parted. “You…you make her seem like a…a goddess, or a super human entity,” he stuttered. 

“Well, isn’t she?” Montgomery shrugged. “She has power beyond anything the rest of us can understand, she defeated a goblin rebellion and fought against the most powerful dark wizard of our time, or at least so we thought. Now, she has come out of Azkaban seemingly unfazed, and walks amongst the most dangerous wizards in the country. To come face to face with her was extraordinary, especially when it became apparent that she was saving us.” 

Leander swallowed and leant back against his pillows. To him, she had always been MC, the girl he couldn’t stop staring at over the plants in Herbology. So caught up in how enamoured he was of her, he hadn’t given much thought to her having an elevated status in the eyes of others. He felt reasonably confident that he knew the girl behind the mystical powers, behind the articles written about her. The pedestal he had placed her upon varied significantly from the one Montgomery clearly cherished. 

He turned his gaze to Montgomery, remembering the time she had almost begged to accompany him on his meeting with MC, the sparkle of curiosity that constantly lingered in her gaze. A chill swept down his spine as he came to the realisation that others could see the same in MC, hero worshipping her in ways that meant they would follow wherever she led. With all that ancient magic at her fingertips, she could summon an army and cause mass destruction if she chose the dark path. 

For the first time he seriously considered how dangerous MC actually was, and how deeply he had involved himself in assisting her. He swallowed thickly again, his throat unbearably dry. 

“Did you still hold this fascination with her when she was imprisoned for murder?” He asked. 

Montgomery grimaced and shook her head. “I was devastated. She went from saving the world, to taking lives. It fuelled my motivation to become an Auror, though. As I progressed through my training, I came to wonder if perhaps things were not so black and white. Seeing your first dead body raises questions one would rather not face,” she said, meeting his eyes. “Tonight merely confirmed it for me. The way she is with you, saving you like that, and she even said it herself just now. Things are not always what they seem, there are shades of grey blended in the blacks and the whites of the world, and underneath all that power, is she not a human like the rest of us. I believe she is.” 

“What are you saying?” He asked carefully. 

She nodded down at the parchment map in his hands. “That map means something. I couldn’t fully understand it beyond recognising that ancient magic symbol. Some of the locations are familiar, of course, but I am certain this is far more valuable in the hands of MC than in the hands of the Auror Office.” 

“But, that’s withholding evidence, Montgomery,” he chided gently, the rule breaking chaffing a little despite his own little discretions. “Is that really how you want to start your career?” 

Her face settled into one of determination, her eyes lit with it. “I believe in seeking out the truth, and gaining justice for those who deserve it. You strike me as being of like mind, Auror Prewett, and I don’t believe for one moment that you believe MC to be the villain the world wants to paint her as. I would even go so far as to say that you would do anything for her, even break a few rules for her, rules such as not becoming emotionally involved with a suspect.” 

Her eyebrows lifted in a knowing smirk, and Leander felt a fierce flush heat his cheeks. 

“I want to help you,” she said firmly, her hands gripped tightly in her lap. “Taking the map was my first step into dangerous territory, I am fully aware of it, but I think this will be worth it. MC is one for the history books, and I want to be a part of it. Let me help you, Auror Prewett. Let me help her.” 

Leander was astounded, and he sat there staring at his new partner with fresh eyes. She was right about this being dangerous territory, and another person in the know merely added more risk, but it would be mighty lovely to have someone on his side in the office other than Andrew. Perhaps he should doubt her intentions, maybe this could be a trap to catch him out, but the way she stared at him, she appeared resolute and fully aware of what she was saying to him. He glanced down at the map, noting the locations, one of which was Hogwarts School. What did it mean? 

Montgomery was already in it up to her neck stealing this map, and she had seen too much already between him and MC. It was a cold thought, but if the circumstances required it, Montgomery could be silenced. It made him quiver in horror just to think of it, but he knew MC wouldn’t hesitate should this prove to be a trap, neither would Sallow. 

“You know the risks this would present, and not just to you, but those you are close to as well,” he said slowly, his gaze serious. 

She nodded. “Anything worth fighting for always comes with risk.” 

“And you think MC is worth fighting for?” 

“I really hope so, Auror Prewett,” she said, her eyes shining with her hope. “The potential she has…the good she could do. Is that a yes? You’ll let me help you?” 

Leander sighed and smoothed his hand over the map before nodding. “Yes, you can help me,” he replied. Montgomery uttered an excited squeal and clapped her hands together. He bit back a smile. “You may as well start by dropping the formality. Call me Leander.” 

Her smile lit up her face. “And you may call me Ivy.” 

Sebastian 

Waking up to find MC missing had tightened the ball of lead that had settled in his stomach ever since Rookwood had left the tent. Both Luella and her father were dangerous people, and MC had boldly thrown down the gauntlet in front of them. He hadn’t argued when she had voiced her concerns that something felt off, but reassuring her seemed the best option. Inside, he was shitting a brick. 

Launching himself out of his bunk, he pulled on his boots, the panic like vicious claws as he double checked that his wand was in his holster. He had to find her.

Where had she gone? The fear that Rookwood had taken her hovered, but she could fight him off fairly well, and she wouldn’t have gone quietly, either. The other option presented a different kind of fear, the fear of what it meant for their relationship if she had run off to London to find Prewett. She said she had chosen him, that she would have to let the Auror go, but the way she had crumbled at the sight of Prewett bloodied up and dying fed into his flames of envy and fear. Not only did he fear losing her, but she could end up blowing the entire cover story if caught being soft for an Auror.

Throwing on his jacket and running a quick hand through his jumble of hair, he strode out of the tent, greeted with the cold air of pre-dawn. A strip of gold and pink lit the horizon, the nearby trees a dark shadow crouched at the base of the nearby peaks. His lungs burned as he breathed in the chill, his breath out fogging before his face as he glanced around camp. At this hour, it was quiet, the fires burning low. A distant bird gave an early call at the impending rise of the sun, the last few stars still clinging to the sky. 

He missed Rosier, a second pair of eyes would have been rather handy about now as he stalked through the camp, his gaze darting into every corner. His stomach rumbled in protest, but breakfast would have to wait. He needed to lay eyes on MC before anything else took priority. Footsteps sounded behind him, boots on packed dirt, and he turned, glancing over his shoulder. He paused as Luella gave him a sultry smirk, her hair neatly pinned back from her face now. 

“Morning, handsome,” she purred, stepping closer towards him. “You’re up early. What’s the matter? I’m surprised your little bed warmer didn’t keep you tucked up under your blankets. Or, maybe…just maybe, she isn’t there?” 

‘Where is she?” His eyes narrowed, his fingers flexing against the cold, mountain air. 

Luella chuckled, one hand on her hip. “She is a piece of work, your little prisoner, isn’t she? So hard, so cold, so uptight. How is cuddling up to her better than what we had? I was never that cold with you, sweetie. We were all about fire and fun.” 

“Enough with the games, Luella,” he said, his voice flat and bored. His stomach twisted, waiting for the trap to spring. She was far too cocky not to know anything. “Clearly, you have a point to make, so make it. Where is MC?” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” she shrugged, her smile borderline devious. She twirled her wand playfully. “Although, if I were to put a few galleons on it, I would wager she is in the company of Aurors right now. I’m right, aren’t I? You think I'm a fool, Sebastian, and you know how I hate to be made a fool of, don’t you?” 

“I don’t think you’re a fool at all, Luella,” he said, keeping his face cool and calm. He even dared to smirk a little. “As for the Aurors, I couldn’t confirm or deny such a claim as I have no idea, either. If she is with them, then she has played me, too.” 

Her smile widened, her head tilting as she studied him. “Interesting. Well, I guess we shall find out.” 

He frowned. “Oh? How’s that?” 

“Father wishes to see you,” she said, her smile disappearing. “He has a little surprise for you.” 

Sebastian stilled, his smirk fading as he realised he was unlikely to enjoy this little surprise. Luella came closer, standing before him, her eyes glittering with something that made his spine freeze. She held out her hand to him. “Shall we?” 

He felt sick. Everything inside of him screamed to run in the opposite direction, but he couldn’t do that. There was too much at stake here. Feigning a confidence he didn’t feel, he smiled as he slipped his hand into Luella’s. She Disapparated instantly, dropping them into the centre of a freezing ruin, stone walls crumbling against a backdrop of wild Scottish landscape. 

“Ah, at last! Here he is,” Rookwood announced, holding out his arms in a gesture of welcome, his smile arrogant and cold. “Welcome, dear boy, welcome. We have been waiting for you.” 

A muffled cry came from the side and he turned his head, his stomach dropping so violently that he actually doubled over clutching at it. “No,” he gasped, the word a strangled sound that did nothing to convey the sheer horror and fear that seized him. 

Rookwood laughed, his gaze turned to a sky breaking with the dawn of a new day. Luella gripped Sebastian’s arm, her breath against his cheek mingling with the frigid cold breeze that swept through the ancient castle walls. “I warned you, sweetheart,” she murmured. “I warned you this would happen, but you went and fucked me around anyway. Nobody makes a fool out of me, Sebastian. Nobody.” 

The horror of this situation sunk wicked, cold claws into him, rendering him speechless, and all the while he could hear this screaming terror spiralling through his head. It was like he was 16 years old again, old bones at his feet, and everything he ever loved was about to be ripped from his grasp. 

MC 

Walking the clean corridors of St Mungo’s hospital, you could glean the sense of safety that came from good people doing all that they could to assist others. The atmosphere was one of warmth, protection, Healers and nurses moving about the building offering gentle smiles as they passed. If they knew who she was, she didn’t feel any sense of hostility despite the rumpled, dark nature of her clothing, or the untidy locks of her hair that fell loose about her shoulders. 

Exhaustion pulled at her, dragging her downwards towards a haze of fog, and she longed to just curl up and vanish into it. That persistent sense that something loomed clung to her, something dark and dangerous just waiting to jump out and destroy everything. Not even the relief of seeing Leander sitting up in bed could dispel it. MC hugged her arms around herself and walked slowly towards the hospital foyer where she could Apparate, finding herself filled with a longing to be held by someone who would tell her that everything would be alright. 

The story of her life. She had always held a deep and profound longing for that. 

Sebastian waited for her back at camp, no doubt still asleep, his smart mouth softly parted, his pretty hair wild against the pillow. He would hold her. He would hold her for as long and as hard as she wished. She just had to say the word. 

Not for the first time, she heard softened footfalls in the corridor behind her, glancing back to just catch the glimpse of a robe swirling out of sight around a corner. She hesitated, a frown creasing her brow. The corridor remained silent, the lamps glowing to provide a low light at this hour. Her sense of impending doom seemed to be making her paranoid, for she felt certain that this robed figure was following her. 

Continuing on her way, MC glanced out of a window, the sky beginning to lighten with the first promise of dawn. Quickening her steps, she felt eager to get back to Sebastian. They needed to gather their things and leave, setting out to revisit Isadora’s old hideaways. MC had the urge to walk where she had once trod, soak up the ambience of those old places in the hopes of bridging some connection. 

As she entered the foyer, soft footsteps made her turn again, and this time she caught sight of a slender figure in a dark grey robe, the hood raised to cast shadow over the face of whoever it was. They appeared to be female, slender hands tugging the hood lower as they dipped their head. 

MC frowned, her hands clenching. “Are you following me?” 

The robed girl paused, her back to MC, her head turning slightly as though they might meet her gaze. But, the sharp crack of magic filled the space instead, the robed figure becoming a twisted swirl of black as they Disapparated. 

MC flinched, swearing under her breath. That impending sense of doom seemed to sharpen, and her chest tightened. The urge to get to Sebastian swelled and she pictured the inside of his tent back at camp, focusing all of her magic into getting her there. She desperately needed to see his face.

Sebastian 

If he closed his eyes hard enough, the memory played out as clear as though he was right back there in the moment. He could feel the gentle dip and sway of the little boat, he could see the way the starlit sky reflected off the surface of the inky black waters of the lake. In the distance, Hogwarts stood proud and strong, the windows lit with the warm glow of welcome. His little freckled hand gripped the side of the boat, the other wrapped tightly around that of his twin. Inside, his stomach was a riot of nerves as he looked up at the huge castle. His heart squeezed at the memory of his mother’s embrace, her tear filled eyes as she bid him farewell. He wanted to make her proud. He would show her. He would prove that he could be as brilliantly clever as she was. 

Daunted at the prospect now as he faced where he would live for the foreseeable future, he maintained his brave face, squeezing Anne’s hand and pretending that it was she he was comforting and not the other way around. 

“Don’t worry, Sebby,” Anne whispered. “We have each other. Always.” 

When he opened his eyes, it was no longer night, and the sky bled with a crimson sunrise. A cold wind gusted against him, ruffling his hair as he choked and spat dirt from his lips. The pain crashed against him like a wave, warping his vision as he twitched and bit back his screams. Fighting it with everything he had, he thrashed on the ground in the centre of the ruin, blinking furiously until he could see her. All the time he could see her, it would be alright. 

Anne was on her knees, her mouth gagged and her hands bound at her back. Tears streamed down her sunken cheeks as she watched him. Powerless, weak, trapped. His twin, his other half, the stronger beat of his heart. Kneeling in the dirt with a wand aimed at her head. All the time he took the pain, that wand remained silent. 

“Crucio!” 

His back arched from the ground, the scream that left his throat left him raw, and tears bled from his eyes. How many times had he inflicted this pain on others? Too many to count. It was so very different to be on the other end of it, but he would take it, he would take everything they had to give to keep their attention off Anne. 

His skin felt like it was peeling back away from his flesh, his very bones screamed in agony, wildfire spreading and pulsing until he had no control over anything. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Rookwood called out, delight ringing in his tone as though this was some kind of party game. 

Sebastian could not stop shaking, his teeth chattering madly as his eyes rolled trying to focus. He could taste blood in his mouth. He had bitten his own tongue. 

A booted foot pressed against the side of his face, pulling an agonised sound from him at being touched. His skin protested savagely at the contact. 

“You know better than anyone how much I detest a traitor, Sallow,” Rookwood purred, bending down to look at him, lip curled in disgust. “Think of this as a little warning, if you would.” 

The boot lifted and Sebastian writhed, panting and spitting the blood from his mouth. He glared up at Rookwood with all the will he could muster. 

“My, my, you are a stubborn bastard,” Rookwood chuckled, stroking his chin. “Bring the twin.” 

Sebastian grunted in his effort to get up, falling back into the dirt as Anne was dragged across the ground towards him. She was weeping profusely, fighting her bonds as she was thrown down beside him. Sebastian reached for her with arms shaking so badly he thought he would miss, but his fingers grasped her shawl and he dragged her closer. She moaned, the muffled sound of his name coming from behind her gag. 

“Anne,” he managed to gasp, holding her to him. With no hands free to return his embrace, Anne pressed her head to his chest, nuzzling against him like a tiny kitten. 

“How touching,” Rookwood crooned. “Sibling love. The things we do for our loved ones, hmm? You can imagine my surprise when I sent for your sister to come and pay us a visit. I do love it when I come across an old acquaintance. It certainly shed some light over some things I have been pondering about.” 

He chuckled again and Anne twisted to glare up at him, practically growling with defiance. Rookwood bent to grasp her chin, his wicked grin so gleeful and cold. “Look at you, precious girl, still fighting against the gift I gave you all those years ago. You and your brother have remarkable spirit. Tough, little Scots, brave until the very end, I don’t doubt.” 

Anne ripped herself from his grip, falling back against the ground with a thump. Sebastian dragged her into him again, shuddering violently, but determined to hang on to her. 

“All we need now is my ancient magic wielder, and then the party will be complete,” Rookwood smirked, glancing around the ruin with smug arrogance. “It’s time for us all to have a little chat.” 

Dread coursed through Sebastian, his fingers like claws as he clutched a shivering Anne to his chest. They were waiting for MC. He was a quivering wreck on the ground, barely able to breathe let alone square up to anyone, and both of his girls were in danger. His worst nightmares had become twisted reality. 

He looked down at Anne, her big brown eyes looking back at him, eyes so like his own. All the bitterness and fury evaporated, and all he could see was the love he had for her, every time she had held his hand in comfort, every time he had ever returned the favour. He’d do anything for her. It was his job to protect her, and he’d gladly die doing it. 

“It’s…alright…” He managed to gasp, his shaking hand touching her hair. “I promise…it’s alright.” 

He fiercely wished that he could believe it. 

To be continued...

Taglist

@eternalremorse @slytherin-paramour @writing-intheundercroft @evaslytherpuff @loving-him-was-red13 @sevprince-91 @lucy-withthediamonds-inthesky

[choccy-milky]

⭐ HL x ghibli! ⭐

[lavenderandturpentine]

Sebastian: MC is pretty sweet to hang out with. Don’t you guys agree?

Garreth: Well, she is pretty cool. Brilliant at potion making too.

Ominis: I will admit that I rather enjoy her presence.

Sebastian: Yet, it simply isn't enough to be in MC's presence, is it?

Garreth: What are you implying?

Sebastian: I need to be inside of her...

Ominis: *sighs* Sebastian…

Garreth: That’s taking it too far…

I can just imagine Gar and Omi being so over Seb’s obsession with mc 😂

Needed something to lighten the mood today. 💚🖤

[atypicalamortentia]

Breeding Kink

Synopsis - The boys and their breeding kinks.

Warnings - NSFW.

Notes - Characters aged up to 18+!

Word Count - 3.1K.

{Caffeinate Me}

SEBASTIAN SALLOW has major baby fever all of the time and he isn’t afraid to let you know about these feelings either. “Wanna have a baby?” He asks, looking at you with a devilish grin. You look up at him from the book you’re reading with wide eyes, completely taken aback by his comment. When you don’t answer, he asks you again. “Wanna have a baby?”

“Excuse me?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. 

Sebastian sits down next to you, placing a hand on your thigh. “Well I’ve been thinking of filling you up until your stomach bulges and you get pregnant with my babies.”

“Sebastian!” A gasp leaves your lips, however you don’t stop him from taking the book out of your hand and placing it on the coffee table in front of you. Sebastian places a hand on your chest and pushes you down onto the sofa so you’re lying down on your back. Without hesitation, he straddles your waist while still grinning at you. 

“That’s not an answer,” he sings before capturing your kiss into a passionate kiss. You don’t protest as his lips smash against yours. Instead, you kiss him back eagerly, discarding your clothes and throwing them all over the living room to find later. “I’ll take that as a yes then,” he grins watching as you spread your legs wide for him. Sebastian leaned down to kiss your neck, slipping his cock up your glistening folds to lubricate himself before slamming inside of you in one fell swoop. A moan leaves both of your lips and he slowly begins to move himself inside of you, not giving you time to adjust to his large length. Your hand grips his forearms in an attempt to slow him down, but Sebastian doesn’t give up. 

“Sebastian!” You groan loudly as your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

“Cum for me baby,” Sebastian growls in your ear. You can’t help but nod enthusiastically. Your fingers make their way to your clit and rub quick, yet calculated circles on the sensitive nub. Within seconds you were creaming around him, moaning his name on repeat. “Good girl,” Sebastian cooed, kissing your lips softly as he continued to smash his hips against yours. “Now, I’m gonna fill you up until you can’t take anymore okay? Got to get this beautiful stomach full of my babies.” You nod again, moaning loudly as Sebastian’s ruthless assault on your pussy continues until he’s a blubbering mess. You feel his cock twitch inside of you, if that was even possible, and you know that he’s about to explode. With a growl he cums deep inside of you, fucking it into you until he’s too sensitive to continue. “God you feel so good,” he groans, kissing the side of your neck as he pulls out of you with a slight pop/ 

Sebastian rolls off of you and stares at the ceiling, attempting to catch his breath. After a few moments of silence, you finally speak up, voice soft and shy. “Did you really mean what you said?” Sebastian looks at you, slightly confused. “About me getting pregnant. Did you mean it?” 

Sebastian grins at you again. “Yes. It’s all I’ve been able to think about.” 

“Well then. Maybe we can make it happen.” 

OMINIS GAUNT is unsure about his newly found kink, afterall, he only wants to have a baby when you’re both ready. However, recently the thought of filling you up with his cum until you get pregnant hasn’t left his mind. You’re sitting at the dinner table when Ominis says to you, “do you ever want children with me Y/N?” 

He takes a mouthful of food as you respond to his question. You don’t even need to think about it before you’re answering. “As long as they’re with you, I wouldn’t care if we had a litter.” You let out a soft giggle at your joke and look at the blonde who’s smiling at you playfully. 

“Well, I’ve been thinking lately…” he mumbles slightly. “About getting you pregnant.”

“You have?” You ask, smiling widely at him. Ominis just nods as he pushes his plate to the side, a sign that he was finished eating. You never thought Ominis would want children, and you were okay with that, so to hear this was like a breath of fresh air. 

“I keep thinking of running my hands over your body… Feeling your swollen belly in my hands and it just does things to me.” 

You raise an eyebrow out of curiosity. “What sort of things?”

He leans in over the table. His milky eyes stare into your soul before he whispers to you, “come and find out.”

You stand up, shaking with anticipation as you walk over to him. When Ominis feels you within arms length, he grabs your wrist and pulls you down onto his lap. A gasp of surprise leaves your lips when you feel his painfully hard erection underneath your bottom and you can’t help but squirm lightly. Ominis sucks in a breath as you squirm against him and he can’t help but thrust his hips up to meet yours. “Ominis,” you whisper softly, moving your hips lightly against him. 

You’re unable to say anything else before he commands you, “bedroom. Now.” 

You jump off his lap and eagerly grab his hand, leading him to your shared bedroom. You push Ominis onto the bed, taking the position of command like you usually do in the bedroom and kiss him with fever whilst bucking your hips up against his straining erection. You undress each other quickly and without speaking until you’re both completely naked. Ominis’ hands trail over your body, cupping your breasts eagerly. Without warning you sink yourself onto his length and he lets out a loud moan as you slowly inch yourself onto him. Every time you have sex it always feels like the first time: from the burn of the stretch to the way he moans - it was like you’d never touched him before. You let out a breathy moan as you begin your movements, allowing yourself to feel the arousal swell up inside of you as your orgasm was fast approaching. Ominis bucks his hips up to meet yours in a haphazard way and although his rhythm was completely off, he was still able to get you cumming around him in no time. “Please. Please make me a daddy,” he whispers repeatedly as you feel his cock twitch inside of you. You nod and moan at the sensation, coaxing his orgasm from him until he’s painting your insides with his seed at an ungodly speed. When you finally manage to pull yourself off of Ominis, he growled lightly. His hands guide your hips back down onto him, signalling to you that he didn’t want you to move just yet. 

“We’ll talk more about this later,” you whisper in his ear, kissing his cheek softly. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he says suddenly. “I want children. Your children. Let’s just do it.” 

You find yourself grinning at him before bending down to place a chaste kiss on his lips. “If you’re sure that’s what you want. Let’s do it.”

GARRETH WEASLEY doesn’t realise he has a breeding kink until the first time he has sex with you. After that, he’s a complete goner. He knows he won't rest until you’re pregnant, that’s for sure. He doesn’t bring it up to you until a few months after your first time. One night he’s between your legs, tongue dancing out of his mouth and lapping at your clit just the way you like it. His fingers are pumping in and out of you, pushing you to your second orgasm of the night when he hits you with the, “wanna stuff you full of my cum until you’re good and pregnant.” Your ears are ringing from the pleasure you’re experiencing and you hardly hear him however, when his words register to you you’re moaning for more. Your legs tense up around his head as you cum all over his face and that has Garreth smirking like you’ve never seen before. “You want that, huh?” He asks as he trails wet kisses up your naked body. “Want me to make you a mummy baby?”

“Yes please,” you choke out, marvelling at how big his cock looked between your thighs. His tip was red, leaking pre-cum as he grasped the base and slid it between your sticky folds. A soft gasp left your lips as Garreth slowly pushed his cock inside of you. In his usual fashion, he gave you a few moments to adjust to his large length before he began pounding into you relentlessly. There was something about the idea of you being pregnant with his baby that turned him on like never before. His hands made their way to your stomach, palming softly as he envisioned you swollen with his DNA. 

He kisses your neck, mumbling words of praises to you. “You’ll look so hot pregnant.” You’re unable to form words to reply as your back arches, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. “Everyone will know who you belong to when they see you full of my baby.” And just like that, you’re cumming again. Your legs wrap tightly around his waist as your fingernails rake down his back, no doubt leaving red marks for you to admire later. After a few more seconds of viscous thrusting, Garreth is moaning your name while exclaiming loudly that he was cumming. You feel him fill you to the brim and you let out an exhausted, content sigh as Garreth kisses your forehead lovingly. He looks down into your eyes and smiles. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you breath out softly. “I’m just surprised.”

“Surprised?”

“Yeah. I’m surprised that you want children with me,” you mumble, staring into his gorgeous eyes. 

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re the love of my life.” 

Your eyes fill up with tears as you question him, “I am?”

“Of course you are. I love you Y/N, never forget that.”

LEANDER PREWETT realises he has a breeding kink the second he sees you holding an infant. Your best friend had just had a baby and invited you and Leander around to meet them. Your eyes had widened as you cooed at the tiny human and Leander was gone. When you get home, Leander watches as you sit down while he paces back and forth awkwardly. You raise an eyebrow out of concern and ask him, “what’s wrong love?”

“Listen Y/N… We’ve been together for a long time now,” he starts, and you feel your heart sink at his words. You’re fearing a break-up speech, but you weren’t prepared for what he was about to say. “And I think I might have a breeding kink.”

You blink rapidly at him and ask, “a breeding kink?”

“It means I get turned on by the thought of impregnating you,” he explained. 

“I know what a breeding kink is Leander,” you roll your eyes and chuckle at him. 

“Then-” 

“How long have you known?” You ask softly, standing up and walking towards him. 

“Only since today,” he says, holding his arms out to hold you. “Seeing you with the kid… It made me think that we should have one.” 

“You’re joking right?” You ask, mumbling into his chest as you wrap your arms around his body. “I swear to Merlin Leander, if you’re joking I will kill you.”

He cupped your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was probably the sweetest and most passionate kiss you had shared with him, ever. “No. No I’m not joking.” His hands trailed down to your breasts, cupping them gently. “I can’t stop thinking about how large your tits would get full of milk. How swollen your stomach would be…”

A moan escaped your throat at his words, arousal settling in your core as you allowed yourself to think about the changes that would occur to your body if you were pregnant. “Leander,” you whimper softly. “Don’t tease me.” 

He nodded. “Okay princess.” He grabbed your hand and picked you up bridal style, walking quickly with you to your shared bedroom. He threw you onto the bed and you landed with an ‘oof’ before giggling up at him. 

“Leander!” You shriek gently. He didn’t reply though, he just climbed on top of you, pushing you down and kissing you softly before removing your trousers. He looks at you with a hunger in his eyes that you had never seen before. 

“God look at you,” he mumbles, taking in the view of your naked body underneath his. “You’re so beautiful. I don’t know if it would be possible, but you’d be more beautiful if you were pregnant.” You didn’t know how to respond to that, as sweet as it was, but you didn’t have a chance to before Leander was taking off his pants. His cock was painfully hard, standing straight to attention. You reach out to touch him but he batted your hand away playfully. “Not tonight baby, I wanna get to the main event.”

You blushed at his words and got on all fours for him - his favourite position. You shake your arse at him teasingly, showing him your dripping cunt. It was shameful how wet he got you and how quick he got you wet too. He lines himself up with your entrance, hands grasping your hips desperately as he pushes into you quickly. You let out a squeal and give him the go ahead to move. When he did, his pace was painfully slow. He wanted this to be loving, wanted to say that when you conceived your child it was slow and sensual. Leander’s movements were calculated, thrusting into you in a way that had you clenching around him. His fingertips prod at your clit, slowly circling it until you were creaming around his cock. It was embarrassing how quick he could make you cum. Your own orgasm had pushed Leander over the edge, the way your cunt clenched around him had his mind in a haze as he shot his load into your womb. He pulled out of you with a heavy breath and lay down next to you, head turning to the side to admire you. 

“God Leander,” you whisper breathlessly. “That was something else.” 

He laughs at you and wraps an arm around you, pulling you close to him. “I hope it worked.”

“Only time will tell,” you mumble as you close your eyes. It didn’t take either of you long to fall asleep, completely full of bliss. All you knew is that you’d definitely be having round two in the morning to make sure you got pregnant.

AMIT THAKKAR is really shy about his breeding kink. One night, you’re talking to him about the kinks you have when you decide to ask him about his. He stutters at first, not sure what to say when you giggle and say, “it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want too.”

Amit finds himself fumbling over his words before he responds. “I have a kink about… impregnating you.” 

“You do?” You ask with wide eyes. Amit just nods in response, too shy and nervous to say anything. You find yourself thinking for a moment. You had always wanted kids, ever since you were younger. You always played house with your dolls and thought about baby names for your future children. You knew Amit was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, so you thought why not. “Why don’t we give it a try?”

Amit is stunned. He really wasn’t expecting you to be so open about it. “Really?”

You nod. “I think the time is right to start trying for a baby.” 

“You mean that?” Amit asks. 

“Of course,” you remain smiling at him and that’s when Amit’s confidence grows. 

He grabs your hand and leads you to the bedroom, anxiously anticipating what was to come. He slowly settles you down onto the bed, pushing you down so you’re laying flat on your back. Amit begins to undress you in a way that was almost teasing, carefully and slowly. You let out a soft moan as his fingers dance over your skin. “Are you okay?” He asks, his voice a whisper. You nod your head as you begin to help him out of his own clothes, desperately tugging at them. “Here. I’ll help you,” he smiles, moving his hands away from your body to help you remove the final articles of clothing on his body. When you were both bare to each other, the air in the room was thick with arousal. Both of your eyes never left the other’s body and both of your hands began touching anywhere you could reach. Amit smiles down lovingly at you as he pumps his erect cock, shakily lining himself up with your tight hole. “You ready sweetheart?” He asks, slipping his cock between your folds and teasing your hole with his tip. 

“Please!” You gasp, arching your back in an attempt to have his cock slide into you. 

Amit nods and pushes himself inside of you, filling you completely to the brim. You let out the loudest moan as he begins to snap his hips against yours. He wanted this moment to last, but the way your cunt was clenching around him made it impossible. His fingers shakily worked at your clit, pushing you to your orgasm. You came over him, squealing in delight as your orgasm washed over you. Amit continues to fuck himself into you, thoughts of your pregnant body filling his mind as his cock hit your cervix again and again. When he came, your name left his lips in a gasp. He had never known himself to cum so much, pouring rope after sticky rope into your cunt. When he finally finished, he collapsed onto you kissing at your neck gently. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled against the soft skin of your neck. 

“What for?” You ask breathlessly. 

“For cumming so quickly,” he said shamefully. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle at him and shake your head. Your voice was soft and reassuring. “Amit, it’s okay.”

“I just couldn’t help it,” he groans, lips continuing to skim across your neck. “The thought of impregnating you was too much for me to handle.”

You chuckle again. “I’m glad you found it as enjoyable as I did.” 

“I did,” he said breathlessly, pressing his lips to yours softly. “Give me a minute and we can go for round two.”

“Round two?” You ask with a grin. 

“Well, we need to have sex at every opportunity if we want to get you pregnant,” he says, explaining it logically to you. You nod your head at him and open your legs again, fingers pushing in some of his cum that had dribbled onto your thigh. 

“I’m ready whenever you are.”

[girl-named-matty]

Sharing a bed with the Boys (Hogwarts Legacy Headcanons)

Sharing a bed with the boys. Tags: Fluff, Sharing a bed, gn!reader, Sebastian x Reader, Ominis x Reader, Garreth x Reader, Leander x Reader. (this is barely proofread haha) Rating: General Audiences

Summary: My Headcanons for sharing a bed with the boys!

Sebastian:

When you first asked him if he wanted to share a bed, he practically jumped straight in it. He was so excited. 

But that was just the first time. 

He stays up reading almost every night so good luck getting him into that bed in the first place after that. 

And by late I mean genuinely unholy hours of the night kinda staying up and he wonders why he looks so tired. 

If you do eventually get him in bed, it doesn’t take him long to actually fall asleep. Aside from the constant lack of sleep he usually gets, he’s always been one to fall asleep quickly. 

He is a human body heater. 

Some nights you may not even need a blanket because he’s just that warm. 

I feel like Seb would be the kind of guy to practically sleep on top of you. Like not enough to crush you but instead it feels like a really nice weighted (and warm) blanket. 

Except for this blanket snores. 

Loud 

I’m sorry I don’t make the rules. 

Sometimes it's really annoying to share a bed with him and other times it's really nice. 

If he ever comes to bed early, it’s how you know he’s had a rough day and just needs to be in your arms for comfort. ..

Ominis:

Unlike Sebastian who would totally be up to sharing a bed, he would be more hesitant. 

It’s not like he doesn’t want to, per se, but he’s used to having his own space and he’s not necessarily the most touchy person. But eventually, he says he’s ready. 

Kinda awkward the first few nights. He slept with his back towards you and didn't make any physical touch at all. 

But after a couple of nights, he slowly starts making the shift to get closer to you and he comes to enjoy it. 

After that, he finds it hard to sleep without you. 

Due to not having the best childhood, he often has nightmares. And for him his nightmares are extremely unnerving due to the fact that he can’t see anything, only hear things. 

But one of the best parts about sharing a bed with you is the fact that whenever his nightmares wake him up, you’re right there next to him. 

He often finds himself reaching out for you in the middle of the night, just to make sure you’re still there. 

 He’s definitely a side sleeper so sometimes you’ll sleep in the spooning position together. This also reassures him a lot that you’re still next to him. ..

Garreth: 

Didn’t take long for you two to start sharing a bed at all. 

Since he has so many siblings he probably had to share a bed with one of his brothers at some point in his childhood anyway. 

But just because he might be used to it does not mean he’s easy to share a bed with. 

This boy is a BED HOGGER. 

If you are quite literally not right up against him, you’re falling off the bed. 

You thought Seb gets hot when he sleeps? 

Well, Garreth has him beat by a LONG shot. 

You could probably fry an egg on this man's back just saying. 

But we all know Garreth has that soft tummy action going on so he’s super comfortable and when he’s not hogging the bed, it’s really nice to cuddle up to him. 

When you too are cuddling, he wants to be as close to you as possible. 

So, really, just the sweetest boy to ever exist. ..

Leander: (because he deserves his place on this list) 

He’s similar to Ominis and opposite of Garreth. 

Had very few siblings growing up, probably only one or two so he was used to having his own space. So it took him a while before he was all good with it. 

This boy is lanky af. 

It’s obviously okay. He’s tall, long, lanky, whatever you wanna call it. 

So he probably sleeps with his legs up somehow to keep his feet from hanging off the bed/smacking into the headboard. 

It probably took him a while to get used to cuddling with someone in bed but now that he’s used to it, he loves it. 

He loves it when you sleep on his chest so he can wrap his arms around you and hold you close. 

He’s definitely not a morning person so have fun getting him out of that bed.

Also has really bad bed-head. How do I know this? No man would style his hair the way he does unless he has bed-head so take my word for it. 

100% a cuddler now. ...

Who should I do next? I was thinking Andrew and Amit but lmk in the comments!

[vienguinn]

I think it would be cool if there’s a Gryffindor trio with an actual lion though hahah

Pose ref

[giselsann]

I finally redraw it😁

[anto-pops]

Fissured Composure - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: After watching you hold your own against a handsy classmate, Sebastian is feeling particularly needy and steals you away to the Undercroft to show you just how worked up your right hook got him.

Alternatively summarized as Sebastian reverently going down on you after you break Leander's nose

Based on this request I received! Hope you like it anon :)) 

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, minor violence, explicit sexual content, rough sex

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 as always !

Many of your friends would agree that you had the patience of a damn Saint. 

Beyond dealing with Sebastian’s hard-headedness on a regular basis and keeping up appearances with your classmates, it was a wonder you had managed to maintain your cool, collected facade for so long. You could recall losing it once before, shortly after Professor Fig died. But the whole debacle had gone down in the safety and privacy of the Room of Requirement, so no one had been around to witness your indignant anger take root and assist you in trashing two thirds of your sacred space. 

That had been two years ago, so you liked to think you’d gotten better at controlling your emotions since then.

Leander fucking Prewett, however, had seemingly made it his life’s mission to frustrate you to no foreseeable end.

While you had felt bad for him in your fifth-year and entertained his rambling mostly out of pity, somewhere along the way your lack of interest got lost in translation. He was a rather boastful individual, preferring to brag about himself and put down anyone that excelled in areas he wanted to be the best in. His attitude had only worsened with age, and for the last few months he had suddenly taken to attempting to woo you in passing. 

His efforts were too pathetic to take to heart, but you certainly hadn’t told Sebastian about it yet. Not unless you wanted to trigger a fight that you knew you wouldn’t be able to intervene in, because the whole reason Leander was even trying with you was to get under your boyfriend’s skin. 

Today was Wednesday, and you shared Herbology class with Leander, much to your displeasure. Your attempts at escaping out the door quickly had been thwarted when Professor Garlick asked to speak with you after class, and despite hoping against all odds that you would be left alone, Prewett was waiting for you at the top of the steps when you ascended the staircase. 

“Ah, there you are,” he drawled, with far too much familiarity for your liking. “Did Professor Garlick hold you back to scold you for something?” 

You grasped at the fringes of your self-restraint with everything in you. “No, we were just discussing some extra assignments she gave me last week.” 

Wanting to leave the interaction at that, you picked up your pace and strode past him, eager to meet up with Sebastian and Ominis for lunch. At the very least, Sebastian’s presence would act as a safeguard against Leander’s incessant pestering. Unfortunately, the Gryffindor had no qualms about lengthening his stride to match your own, and he fell annoyingly into step beside you. 

He raked one of his hands through his long strands of red hair, trying and failing to raise a brow at you questioningly. Instead he just looked constipated. “Wow, extra assignments? You must be some child genius turned prodigy, I can’t think of anyone who willingly says yes to more homework.” 

“...I’ve been doing it for two years, Leander.” 

Waving you off, he pressed on, “Then you’re way smarter than you let on.” What? “Not that I’ve heard otherwise from anyone, but someone as bright as you likely values intellect and wit, and I can’t help but notice Sebastian is in short supply of both these days–” 

“Leander, now really isn’t the time.” Not this shit again. You pushed through the double doors leading to Central Hall, desperate to put your two Slytherin companions in between yourself the daft idiot tailing you. 

“Oh, come on. I’m only suggesting we take some time to study together. Or maybe we could take a stroll through the Library since you’re so fond of books. Everyone knows you’ve got a thing for sneaking into the Restricted Section, although sometimes I wonder how much reading you actually do when you disappear there with Sallow.” 

By now you had made it beside the fountain in the middle of the room, but your legs halted entirely when you registered the implication hidden in his words. One of your nails broke as you dug your fingers into the cover of your textbook, and you willed the thrum of your blood roaring in your ears to lessen as you finally pivoted to face Leander fully. 

Your expression was stormy when you fixed your eyes on his beady ones, and you allowed yourself a moment to appreciate the nervous bob of his throat. “What is it you think I do then, Leander? What vapid, tasteless thoughts do you have whipping around in that giant head of yours, hm?” 

At least he had the good sense to look sheepish, but he masked the look quickly with that false bravado that made your hands twitch. He raised his arms in a gesture of surrender, “Relax, doll. I’m just connecting the dots out loud. What does your prized boytoy tempt you with to convince you to break the rules so often?” 

Merlin’s bloody balls, if you didn’t leave now, you were going to lose it in the middle of the school. There was no hiding your blatant scowl of disgust, but you found the frayed tethers of your composure and grabbed the ends like a lifeline. You pulled a deep breath into your lungs, exhaling in a way that conveyed your thinning temper, and turned to walk away. 

You saw Sebastian standing on the other side of Central Hall talking to Garreth, and he was spying over the redhead’s shoulder to watch you. His face was contorted into a dark, threatening expression, and you knew he could read your own emotions plainly on your face. He was well aware that you were pissed off, and he jumped into action then, muttering something to Weasley under his breath before he was striding across the foyer to get to you. 

You’d made it roughly three steps away from Leander when you suddenly felt his slimy hand slithering around your waist to haul you back against his chest. The brazen action took you by surprise, which was the only reason the bastard succeeded in squeezing the curve of your hip so generously. The feeling had you tensing all over, and you dimly registered Sebastian’s murderous expression nearing the opposite side of the fountain before your own anger took root. 

“What, you’re not even going to dignify me with a response? That’s awfully cruel–” 

A faceful of your fist cut him off mid sentence, and you watched through your narrowed eyes as Leander’s head flew back, his momentum carrying him to the ground in a sprawled, limp heap. You heard a series of gasps erupt from the students that were seated nearby, but you didn’t care. It took you a second to process the scene as you blinked the rage from your mind, but once you had, you were pleased to find Prewett’s nose hugging his cheek at a very broken angle. 

“There’s your response, you prick,” you swore at him, bending down to snatch up your Herbology textbook that had fallen from your grip. Your knuckles throbbed from the impact still, but you simply flexed your fingers and shook the pain away. It felt good to get that out of your system, and entirely worth the bruises you would surely be sporting in the morning. “Do yourself a favor and stay the hell away from me, or I’ll be happy to show you exactly what I’ve learned from the books in the Restricted Section.” 

As soon as you moved away from Leander, a group of younger students were flocking to his side, wisely giving you a wide berth as you left. Sebastian was frozen still as a statue on the other side of the fountain, looking at you slack-jawed with admiration twinkling in his dark eyes. You smiled softly at him, the look so at odds with the feral energy you had just exhibited twenty seconds prior.  

“I– what the bloody hell was that?” Sebastian asked at the same time you circled your arm around his waist to lead him away from the bleeding Gryffindor. 

“It was well deserved, that’s what it was,” you replied evenly, and then you felt Sebastian’s fingertips digging into the small of your back. “Don’t worry about it, please. He won’t bother me anymore, that’s for damn sure.” 

Sebastian’s laugh sounded breathless, and he shook his head in disbelief, his pupils blown wide as he stared down at you. “Oh I’ll definitely be needing the backstory to that whole altercation at some point, but I’m more hung up on the fact that you actually punched somebody. You never get physical like that, where in Merlin’s name did that come from?” 

You’d been leading Sebastian towards the Great Hall, having had your mind set on lunch for the better part of a half hour. But then you felt Sebastian take control of steering, and instead of turning down the corridor that led to your destination, he instead appeared to be guiding you in the direction of the Dark Arts Tower. “You’re acting like it’s unheard of for someone to lose their temper. In case you forgot, Prewett is particularly insufferable. Today he crossed one too many lines, so I reeducated him. End of story.” 

“I don’t think you understand,” Sebastian murmured as you came up the staircase leading to a familiar alcove, and things suddenly started to click into place. “That was quite possibly the sexiest thing you’ve ever done.”

All the blood in your body seemed to flood into your cheeks then. Sebastian gazed down at you hungrily, whipping his wand out briefly to unlock the latch concealing the entryway behind the large clock. It opened with a clang, and before you could formulate a response to his statement, he was gently pushing you through the opening ahead of him. 

While the two of you descended the narrow stairwell leading into the Undercroft, Sebastian replayed the glorious sight of your wicked right hook in his mind. He didn’t know what the hell Leander had been whispering to you about, but the look on your face had told him it wasn’t anything pleasant. Being the chivalrous and overprotective boyfriend he was, of course he’d bailed on his conversation with Garreth to step in. 

Watching Prewett’s offensive appendage coil around your waist had sealed the deal, however; Sebastian had fully intended on sending the Gryffindor into an early grave. But then you’d dropped your items and spun around so fast– your textbook was still falling when your fist connected with his nose. It wasn’t the most tactful means of defense for a lot of people. After all, in a world of magic, who the hell bothered with brawling? There was no denying the appeal of it though. It was a more personal way of telling someone to go fuck themselves, and watching you set your boundries in such a way had driven Sebastian’s blood supply straight to his cock. 

He liked this unrestrained side of you. He was desperate to see more of it. 

Once you were past the threshold of the gate, you stopped to turn to Sebastian, ready to clarify that seriously– was he this affected by you throwing a punch? But then his larger body slammed against you, stealing the words from your throat as he captured your lips in a frantic, hungry kiss, and you were manhandled into his arms so he could walk the two of you over to the lounge stuffed away in the corner of the room. 

As soon as your ass made contact with the velvet cushions, Sebastian broke away so his hands could get to work on hauling your skirt down your legs. The ferocity of the movement nearly sent you flying to the floor with the attire, but then the freckled man was moving back into your personal space so abruptly, your teeth knocked together before he began biting and sucking at your bottom lip. 

“Fuck– Sebastian, what the hell’s gotten into you?” The pain from his ministrations quickly blurred together with the unmistakable arousal pooling between your legs, and when he pressed the pad of his thumb roughly against your clit through your soaked undergarments, he swallowed your shaky moans with a nefarious kiss. 

“I have to have you,” Sebastian murmured as his hands came up to remove your blouse, exerting a smidge more self-control than he did with your skirt so he didn’t render your uniform unusable afterwards. There was still the matter of school technically being in session, but after watching Leander put his hands on you, Sebastian was feeling especially possessive, and seeing you lay the brute out like it was nothing made his thirst for you seem borderline unquenchable. He asked hurriedly, “Merlin’s balls, let me eat you out– please?” 

You shivered as he undid the last button on your shirt and slipped the material over your shoulders, tossing it to the stone floor alongside the rest of your clothes. Having long since given up on wearing your bras after Sebastian ripped the straps of your last two, you were completely bare– an open invitation for him to begin kneading your breasts and pinching your nipples hard enough to make you arch into his touch.

He took full advantage of your close proximity and latched his lips over your thundering pulse, sinking his teeth into the skin to work a mark there, and you nodded shamelessly when you felt his fingers slip beneath your underwear. 

“O-Okay. Alright– fine, but take this off,” your hands tugged at the collar of his shirt, ardently conveying that if you were going to let him satiate himself, the least he could do was let you look at him.

Sebastian was obliging you in a heartbeat, pulling away from your spread legs to wriggle his tie loose. It hung messily around his neck– just enough for him to swiftly begin undoing his button up– and the entire time he worked to shed the clothing, his dark, penetrating gaze never left your flushed body. Once the front of his shirt fell open and he’d discarded it, you were met with the tantalizing sight of Sebastian’s toned, freckled chest. The mouth watering trail of hair running below his navel paved a path to the tenting fabric of his trousers, and as soon as Sebastian caught you staring, his brown eyes were darkening impossibly further. 

Prowling forward with feline grace, Sebastian smirked as he lifted his tie off of his shoulders to drape over your head. He didn’t bother tightening it, instead letting it hang in a disheveled heap between your breasts, and the sight did more for him than he cared to admit, his cock straining uncomfortably in his trousers. But right now wasn’t about him– not really– it was about you, and Sebastian’s reverent need to please you. 

“Hold that for me,” he purred down at you before he was dropping to his knees in front of you. 

A brilliant flush swept up your torso as his warm, broad hands came to finally slip your drenched panties away from your aching heat, gliding the material down your outstretched legs without tearing his eyes away from you. Goosebumps broke out all over your skin when the chill of the Undercroft passed over you, and your breath caught in your throat when he eagerly licked his lips and sidled up to the edge of the couch. 

Sebastian looped his arms under your thighs, tugging you closer to him so that your ass dangled precariously off the cushions, causing you to shiver under his unyielding stare. He nudged your legs up onto his shoulders, casting a mischievous look your way before he was nuzzling his face into the sensitive skin of your legs, and the adoring kisses he peppered up the apex of your thighs had your stomach tensing in anticipation. 

“Do you think we could try sparring one day?” Sebastian asked randomly, teasing his fingers closer to your dripping folds before pulling them away entirely. The dejected sigh that slipped from your lips made him chuckle darkly, and you narrowed your eyes at him as his question finally processed. 

“Sparring? What the hell for?” 

He shrugged, jostling your raised legs as his fingers dug firmly into your hips for a modicum of restraint. “I think I’d enjoy getting thrown around by you. Do you think you could?” 

Merlin– he had officially lost his mind. “Maybe? I wouldn’t want to hurt you, though.” 

Something wild sparked behind his irises then, and he began placing lingering kisses in the hollow of your leg. “I would love it if you did,” another soft press of his lips, this time right beside your aching center. “Seriously, when we do, promise me you won’t hold back.”

“You’re actually insane,” you wheezed out as his next kiss fell directly against your clit, and your nails dug fitfully into the padding of the lounge at the featherlight feeling.  

“Only for you, darling.” Sebastian’s grip on your hips tightened as he mercifully sealed his mouth over your cunt, and your head kicked back against the sofa with an audible whack as your shrill voice suddenly echoed off the walls of the cavernous room. Your next breath was stolen from you as you felt Sebastian’s tongue circle over your clit, pressing and dragging the muscle down your heat to lap up as much of you as you could– and you swore you’d never been so wet in your fucking life. 

By some miracle, you didn’t pass out from the overwhelming bliss, but you sure as hell saw stars dancing in the corners of your vision when Sebastian tongued at your tight entrance. The sordid sounds coming from the brunet between your legs was enough to have you clenching your thighs on either side of his head, and the blatantly aroused groan it pulled from his throat reverberated against you perfectly. 

“Fuck, Sebastian,” you whimpered, snapping your hands up from the seat to fist in his curly, brown locs, and when you pulled him against you harder, he moaned at the sensation of your nails scraping against his scalp. He switched tactics then, shaking his head from side to side softly to rub his lips sinfully over your bundle of nerves. The friction was dizzying, and you brazenly bucked your hips against his chin to chase your steadily mounting pleasure. “Merlin–” 

Sebastian was utterly transfixed by you. Through hooded eyes, he watched rapaciously as you crumbled above him; your chest rose and fell with labored breaths, and the ever darkening flush that decorated your skin made the green of his tie around your neck stand out even more, acting like a proprietary flag that claimed you as his. You cracked open your eyes to stare down at him, and your stomach flipped at his unbridled, lust-filled gaze boring into you. 

Sitting forward more, Sebastian wound one of his arms over the angular curve of your hip bones, simultaneously pressing you harder into him while preventing you from shifting around. He mouthed sloppily against you, and you were left to balance your leg over his shoulder when he dropped his other hand to begin teasing at your soaked hole. He pressed the tip of his finger in slowly before withdrawing it completely, and he repeated the same motion a few more times until you were on the verge of tearing a fistfull of his hair out. 

A keening sound ripped from your chest when he removed the digit slower than before, and you could feel Sebastian smirk against you. “S-Stop teasing,” you stuttered, your voice strained and airy.

Sebastian pulled away with a conniving chuckle, and the sight of your slick coating the entirety of his lower face damn near killed you on the spot. “I’m trying to take my time here– you taste so fucking sweet.” 

His finger was back, sliding into you once again– only this time he spared you further torment by burying the appendage inside of you to the knuckle and curling it deliciously upwards. You gasped, arching off the back of the lounge in some vain attempt to feel more of him, but his strength pressing into your hips held you firmly in place, and a legitimate whine tumbled from your swollen lips. 

He set an achingly slow pace, focusing more on wiggling his finger inside of you before pulling it back to thrust in again, and your throaty groan was cut short when Sebastian’s mouth reappeared on your cunt. He lapped at you furiously, working your brain into a tizzy with the rapid flicks of his tongue against your clit, and the cord in your gut was wrought tight as your climax roared to life in the far reaches of your mind. The wanton moans that slipped from Sebastian were electrifying, and the intensity of his ministrations increased when he added a second finger to the mix. Any pain or discomfort was nonexistent; all you could focus on was the sheer exhilaration his efforts brought you, and your hands tightened in his hair to silently warn him that you were close. 

Leaning sideways for a better angle, Sebastian rolled his head against your inner thigh to peer up at you. Once your glazed over eyes landed on him, he let his mouth hang open in an obscene manner to lewdly flick his tongue over your nub at the same time he stroked your inner walls, and that was as much as you could take before you were crying out for Sebastian loud. Your orgasm hit you with the force of a train, stealing your breath and making your muscles tense so hard that your boyfriend’s face was effectively crushed between your trembling legs. 

Sebastian took everything that you inflicted upon him in stride; the stinging drag of your nails through his hair, as well as the suffocating squeeze of your thighs on either side of his head. He relished in it– and he positively lived for how he could make you fall apart in such a way. His cock concurred with his thoughts, twitching enthusiastically against the confines of his trousers. 

The freckled, Adonis incarnate before you rose to his full height after you had the good grace to release him from the stifling confines of your legs, groaning softly when his fingers slipped out of you. Sebastian regarded you with a predatory look that promised more, and you swallowed thickly as you watched his hands languidly work to undo the catch of his pants.

Worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, Sebastian’s brows pinched together with blatant need as he scanned your prone form against the sofa. “Fuck, do you have any idea what you do to me?” His imposing stature over you– shirtless and flushed, with his chest rising and falling from the strained breaths he pulled into his lungs– it had your heart hammering wildly against your sternum. You shook your head. “Then I’ll show you,” he vowed, and the timbre to his voice seemed to reignite the fire burning in your veins. 

Working quickly, Sebastian shoved his trousers down to his thighs, pulling himself out of his briefs with a needy groan. He gave himself a few testing pumps, tipping his head back slightly when his fist squeezed around the bright red tip, and then he was zeroing in on you like you were the only thing in the room he cared to pay attention to. You were still quivering in your spot on the lounge when Sebastian stepped forward, hauling you upright by the tie around your bare neck to spin you around so you were kneeling on the cushions with your front pressed into the backrest of the couch. 

It took everything in you not to sink back down on your wobbly legs, but then you felt Sebastian’s hands running down your back towards the shapely curve of your ass, and he squeezed at the skin there greedily before lining himself up with your spit-slick cunt. Far too eager to feel his cock inside of you, you watched over your shoulder as Sebastian gingerly pressed into you with a low, raspy moan, and your fingers dug into the backrest so hard, your knuckles blanched white. 

Despite his urgency, Sebastian took his time rocking his hips into you, drinking in your sweet little sounds as he filled you up and slid home. “Fuck,” he breathed, leaning forward to rest his head between your shoulder blades as he buried himself to the hilt. His hands moved from your ass to your waist, holding you still with bruising strength as he got used to the sensation of your hypersensitive walls contracting around him. Your breaths were coming out fast and shallow, completely overwhelmed by the sheer size of him compared to his fingers. Having already come, you were like putty in Sebastian’s hands as he ground his cock into you firmly, and you felt him twitch inside you when your head fell forward against the upholstery of the seat with a gasp. “Fuck– you’re so wet still– feels so fucking perfect.” 

When Sebastian pulled back to torturously thrust into you slowly, your hips rocked in tandem against him, and he redirected his eyes up from where the two of you were connected so he could drink in the expression on your face. Your lips were parted around a choked moan as he moved inside of you, those beautiful, luminescent eyes of yours sparkling with rampant affection and arousal, and his tie swayed around your neck in sync with his movements.

Sebastian hunched forward, lifting one of his hands to rake through your disheveled hair and pull your head back towards his shoulder, and you cried out suddenly before the sound transformed into a filthy moan that only served to spur Sebastian forward faster. His hold on you was unrelenting, effectively bending you backwards against his sweaty chest as he increased his pace and began spearing his cock into you with brutal efficiency. 

It didn’t take long for him to start hitting the deepest parts of you, the thick head of his shaft curving up to graze deliciously over your sweet spot with every rough thrust. Your eyes rolled back in your skull, shameless noises spilling from your lips as Sebastian folded you backwards onto his cock to satiate himself. That familiar feeling blossomed low in your gut, and one of your hands flew back to dig your nails into the bare skin of Sebastian’s thigh behind you. 

“Fuck, fuck, Sebastian–” your warbled voice was like music to his ears, pulling the corners of his mouth up into a devilish smile. His next thrust was particularly forceful, and the incriminating sound of skin slapping against skin filled the Undercroft, seemingly harmonizing with the cacophony of noises that the two of you created together. “Merlin–” 

Sebastian growled, releasing your hair to trail his hand across your front and curl around your throat. He tightened his hold there, squeezing just enough so that your walls clenched around his cock as he upped his tempo. You were completely enveloped by him, held fast to his damp chest as he ruthlessly pounded into you, and the lack of oxygen to your brain numbed everything else as your second orgasm loomed threateningly overhead. 

Overcome with telltale urgency, Sebastian chased his own pleasure desperately, bucking his cock deep into your clenching heat, wringing choked gasps and stuttered cries of his name from your open mouth, and he was fucking dizzy from how good it felt to be pressed against you, holding you tight in his arms. Sebastian tugged you closer to him to latch his lips over the sweaty skin below your ear, biting and sucking a mark there as he propelled his hips upwards inside of you. 

There really wasn’t anything you could do to stop yourself from frantically rutting back in search of that building euphoria. You rode back onto Sebastian with as much give as you were allowed, your eyes squeezed shut from the pleasure and your thighs shaking from how good Sebastian was fucking you, filling you up deep and hard and fast, just how you liked it. The way he slammed you back down onto his rough thrusts by your throat only added fuel to the fire, leaving you a sloppy, gasping, pleading mess in his arms. 

Sebastian released his ironclad grip around your waist to snake his hand lower to your sensitive clit, and your head fell back against his shoulder as he started rubbing firm circles over the overstimulated nub. Your voice strained against his uncompromising hold on your throat, “Fuck– Sebastian, please–” 

“Come, darling, come on my cock. Let me hear your pretty noises, I’m so close,” he muttered the command against the shell of your ear, railing his cock into you so fast and so harshly, you had no choice but to oblige him. 

Sebastian watched as you crumbled against him for the second time, utterly in love with the way your spine rounded as you sank into him, every part of your body trembling. Your walls tightened impossibly further around him, causing him to gasp into the crook of your neck, and Sebastian slammed his cock into your incredible cunt— nearly mindless from how you shook against him— and he fucked you clean through your orgasm until your sounds and body yanked him right over the edge with you. His dark eyes rolled shut, growling your name through his clenched teeth as his pace faltered before he was burying himself deep in you with a heady gasp. 

The feeling of Sebastian emptying inside of you rendered you boneless, leaving your boyfriend with the task of keeping you upright as he ground his hips against your ass, milking himself dry with broken whimpers before halting his movements entirely. His hold around your throat loosened, and the rush of blood returning to your brain was akin to pure bliss alongside the remnants of your climax. 

“Fucking hell,” he groaned after a few heated seconds, relaxing his grip on you so that he could slide himself out before gingerly lowering the two of you down onto the cushions together. Your hands slipped from the back of the couch and fell into your lap as Sebastian maneuvered you into a sitting position, your body too limp to even bother moving yourself. “Are you okay?” 

You gave him a nonplussed blink as you willed your brain to function properly again, and then you nodded shakily. “Shit, yeah. I had no idea your bloodlust would turn you into such a lunatic, though,” you muttered, and Sebastian’s bellowing laugh roused you further from your post-coital state. 

“It’s not bloodlust, darling. It’s you,” he countered easily, a smug smile playing on his freckled lips. He tucked his softening cock back into his briefs and tugged his pants back up over his hips before moving away from you to retrieve the scattered pieces of your uniform. When he reappeared with the ball of clothing, you took it graciously, staying seated on the couch as you worked your underwear up your unsteady legs. “I was serious about the sparring thing, too. I think it would be fun watching you let loose.” 

You shot him a hesitant look, not particularly keen on his eagerness to get bloodied up at your hands, but his excitement at the thought was palpable, and you found yourself relenting to his ludicrous idea with a sigh after a few beats of silence. “Fine,” you conceded. “But only once. I don’t care how horny it makes you– I don’t like the thought of hurting you, no matter how easy it is to fix broken bones here.” 

He had bent down to snatch his button up off the floor, but paused on his way up to glance at you with a pleased expression on his face. The shirt was momentarily forgotten as Sebastian fell to his knees once again, only this time it was to cradle your face in his warm hands and pull you in for a toe curling kiss. His thumbs traced along your cheekbones as his tongue delved deep in your mouth, and you sighed contentedly. The gentleness that always followed these heated moments between the two of you was, without a doubt, one of your favorite things. 

Sebastian broke away to pepper a quick succession of lighter kisses all over your face, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly at his reverence. “Hell yes, whatever you want. I’ll do it wearing a damn ball gown if that’s what it takes.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re barking mad?” 

He smirked, far too pleased to be hearing you say so. “From time to time, yes. Don’t lie, you love it.” 

Your eyes twinkled with amusement, and fighting your smile proved to be easier said than done. “I love you. Your crazy ideas, however, I take with a grain of salt.” 

From there, he stood fully to throw his shirt over his shoulders, and you mirrored his actions, redressing yourself as quickly as your shaky legs would allow. Once finished, you slipped Sebastian’s tie off of your neck, draping it over his shoulders with a coy smile, and you felt his arm coil around your waist to tug you flush against his front, stealing your lips in another steamy, doting kiss. You returned the gesture with equal fervor, rising to your tip-toes to trail your hands up into his hair to scratch shiver-inducing stripes down the nape of his neck. 

The two of you stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity before the screeching gears of the metal gate drew your attention, and you pulled apart at the same time Ominis strode into the Undercroft. His face was contorted in concentration, his wand sweeping across the room until he seemed to sense that yes, his two best friends had indeed abandoned him in the Great Hall to disappear into their shared space. 

“Where the hell have you two been?” He asked, not even bothering to confirm that you were truly there. His outstretched wand pointed towards you both as he made his way to the back of the room. “I thought we were meeting for lunch, I’ve been entertaining idle gossip for the better part of a half hour. What is it that I keep hearing about Leander getting punched in the face?” 

At that, you stepped away from Sebastian, adjusting your skirt slightly before bashfully rubbing the back of your neck. “Ah, yeah. That was me,” you confessed. “Word travels fast. What exactly is being said?” 

Ominis cocked a brow at you as he came to halt a few feet away, a strange look passing over his features as his wand pulsed in your direction. “Rumor has it you broke his nose. Please tell me this isn’t going to become a regular occurrence– I can hardly keep up with Sebastian coming to blows with students as it is.” 

“It won’t, don’t worry. I doubt he’ll even come around me anymore after this.” 

Sebastian snickered under his breath, eyeing you with a proud look that reminded you of your recent escapades, and you blushed under his knowing stare. “If Leander knows what’s good for him, he won’t so much as glance in your direction for the rest of the year. But on that note, I’m famished. Anyone up for food?” 

“I’ve been ‘up for food’ for thirty minutes,” Ominis muttered as he turned on his heel to head for the gate. The three of you fell into step alongside one another, Sebastian’s hand brushing against yours as you walked towards the exit, but then Ominis was pausing mid step, tilting his head up to… sniff the air? How odd. “Merlin’s beard, it smells like sex in here.” 

You snatched your hand away from Sebastian’s to slap your palms over your eyes in embarrassment, every ounce of blood in your body rushing to your head and heating your cheeks as you willed the floor to open up underfoot and swallow you whole. Your boyfriend, however, only laughed. 

“We had to work up an appetite before finding you,” Sebastian mused, unashamed at having been caught by the blond man. “Sorry, Ominis. I’ll send an owl next time.” 

“Please stop fucking in the Undercroft. I’m too scared to sit down here anymore– I can’t tell whether I’m avoiding your cum stains or not.” 

“You’ll want to steer clear of the lounge for the foreseeable future, then.” Sebastian fired back instantly, not a lick of chagrin to be detected in his voice. “That’s a mess you’ll want to avoid.” 

“Please stop talking,” you grit through your teeth, and the coquettish expression on the brunet’s face warranted a sharp look from you. “Or I can’t promise I won’t punch you in the face next.” 

“Didn’t we just establish that I want you to go that route? Don’t threaten me with a good time.” 

Ominis threw his hands up in utter exasperation, shaking his head in disbelief at Sebastian’s gall before damn near sprinting to leave the Undercroft, and the two of you were forced to skip after him as he ascended the staircase to head for the Great Hall. Even after sitting down and piling food on his plate, Sebastian continued to oggle you from his seat across the table. Every so often you would feel his foot nudge your calf, trailing the appendage up your leg to play with the hem of your skirt. 

Despite your earlier mortification, he did a stellar job of brightening your mood, and when Ominis groused over his mug that the two of you should just get fucking married already, Sebastian looked at you wonderstruck, and he seemed to seriously consider it. 

[raraaf6]

Omi when he find out that seb was about to use dark magic again. and the other students just see this as daily news.

ref

[thetotomoo]

Credit: @puridewart

For “Confessions of the Gentlemen”

Thank you for taking my commission request

[rypnami]

get you a man who still remembers every detail of your face after 7 years

[evaslytherpuff]

I’m not ready for the next part!!!😱😱

Sebastian Sallow 🔺️F!MC 🔺️Leander Prewett

Chapter 13 - 14.2k words

Tags: NSFW / Dark Magic / Angst / Injury / PTSD

Chapter Master List and Ao3 link

Chapter Thirteen: Of Faerie Rings and Offerings

Sebastian

Another wild, Highland trail to follow, and more hours of tension, as they walked through the cold, morning fog. As hardy as he was, living outdoors and growing up through the unpredictable patterns of Scottish weather, Sebastian had wrapped a warm, wool cloak about himself before setting out with MC in search of their next location. He walked on ahead, MC lagging behind him, her breaths laboured and her mood quiet. She wasn’t up to full fitness yet despite the potions she took each morning, but insisted she was fine every time he paused to check on her.

Turning once again on the path, his gaze taking her in, a small crease appeared on his brow at the paleness of her face contrasting with the dark smudges under her eyes. The last two nights had been rough, sleeping out in the wild landscapes in their tent, the tension thick after the confrontation with Anne. His twin’s words had intended to cut, and they certainly felt heavy over his head, slicing open his fears that MC would leave him. 

Waiting for MC to catch him up, he pulled his cloak closer against the damp chill, moisture heavy in the air from a lingering fog. MC slowed to a stop beside him, strands of damp hair stuck to her forehead and cheek. She gave him an enquiring look, glancing around at the endless sentinels of trees that surrounded them. 

“Why have we stopped? Are we close to the fairy ring?” 

“It shouldn’t be too much further,” he said, managing a reassuring smile. “How are you holding up? That last hill was quite the climb.” 

“I’m fine,” she assured him, her chin tilting up in that stubborn way of hers. “I told you to stop fussing over me like I am some kind of china doll that’s about to break.” 

He grinned and brushed gloved fingers against her temple, smoothing back the loose strands of hair there. “I know. That doesn’t mean I listened, though. I am merely adopting the manly role and looking out for the fair maiden in my charge.” 

Her look of disbelief was swiftly followed by a ‘pfft’ of laughter. “Oh, but of course!” She scoffed, planting her hands onto her hips. “Never mind the fact that my magic far outweighs yours in power, and if anything should befall us, then it is more likely going to be the fair maiden who saves the day. What, pray tell, will your manly role involve then?”

A spark of delight filled him at the sight of her mouth curving into a smile. Her laughter may have been an attempt to mock him, but he would take it. Her mood had dropped so low over the last few days due to the lack of ancient magic deposits, and the emotional weight she seemed to carry had put up tense walls between them. He wondered if she would rise to even riskier bait, his fingers shifting to capture her chin, tilting her face up towards him just so. Her eyes flashed, her mouth a tempting pout of pretty pink as he gave her his most wicked smirk. 

“I can think of a few manly roles I could adopt to offer my thanks to the fair maiden for saving my backside,” he murmured, daring to lean close enough until he could feel her breath on his cheek. “Especially for a maiden as fair as you.” 

“Smooth, Sallow,” she said, arching a brow, but not before she had visibly swallowed at their closeness. He had caught that dark spark in her eyes before she had quickly smothered it. Her hand caught hold of his wrist and tugged his hand from her chin. “But, you’re going to have to try harder than that.” 

“I’ll take that as a challenge,” he grinned, tipping her a cheeky wink. 

MC rolled her eyes and set off along the forest trail again. “Come on, let’s keep at it. You said the fairy ring was close. You can tell me more about your manly deeds with the Ashwinders as we walk. Impress me with your villainous skills.” 

She threw a smirk over her shoulder and he felt his spirits rise a little as he stepped out to join her, matching her step so they could walk side by side, careful to avoid tripping on rogue rocks or tree roots. 

“What do you want to know? I have some rather miserable tales about debt collecting on Rookwood’s behalf, or there is always the noble act of robbing from shipping crates arriving from far flung places.” 

Her side eye game was strong as she shook her head. “I think you might need to check on the definition of what a noble act entails. What are in these shipping crates anyway? Do you know? I hope it's not beasts.” 

He met her narrow eyed suspicion with a firm denial. “I stay well clear of any poaching,” he assured her. “That side of the gang is definitely not my area of interest.”  

“No, you are far happier with the torture and thievery,” she said sourly. She frowned thoughtfully. “Does it get any easier the more you do it?” 

The dark shadows of memories hovered greedily at the corners of his mind, and he adjusted his cloak, his face grim. “No,” he said regretfully. He sighed, his gaze scanning their surroundings, always on watch. “Thievery is probably the easiest job to do. Most of the crates that we stash have rare items such as spell books, or ancient artefacts from other countries. Those are the ones that intrigue me the most. I was working the docks for a while, particularly at Dover. Rookwood has a hidden lock up in the tunnels that are carved inside the white cliffs. Those tunnels date back centuries, carved out by Saxons or Vikings I suspect. Hidden by enchantments, Rookwood has quite a decent stash there.” 

MC remained quiet, appearing to think this over as she chewed her lower lip. She gave him a curious glance. “Have you ever been tempted to sneak an item for yourself?”

He gave a sly smile, shrugging his shoulders. “I may have pilfered the odd book, you know me. But, not too often. I couldn’t risk being caught. I’m with the Ashwinders for a reason, and I can’t afford to lose sight of that over a few items. The time will come when I get my hands on his collection.” 

Her expression soured and she dipped her gaze. Anne was a sore subject, but his determination to fix his sister remained the same. He couldn’t just let it go, not when they could be so close. After what MC had told him from her talk with Rookwood, killing him would lift Anne’s curse. It might even be worth the time in Azkaban to just end him and suffer the consequences. Anne would be well, Rookwood would get what was coming to him, but he would be parted from those he loved once again.

Lost in thought, he was surprised when MC came to a stop, his eyes immediately scanning the path ahead for any trouble. The path had widened slightly, the trees here mostly ash and old oaks, the ground a crispy carpet of browns and golds from the Autumn fall. Ahead was a clearing, a first glimpse of ancient stones set into a circle. 

“This is it,” MC whispered, a look of intense concentration on her face. 

Ancient stone circles were littered all over the Scottish wilderness, some called them fairy rings, others pagan ritual sites. Whatever they were called, there was always a healthy amount of respect and awe for these places. Untouched for centuries, they held a magical aura of their own, but it was the glow of ancient magic that they needed from this one. After nearly a week, they had found nothing.  

“Do we need to move closer?” He asked, watching her carefully. He couldn’t see the traces, but sometimes he could sense a strange energy in the air, although this could merely be coincidence. After all, he had magical blood of his own, and magic could be sensed if one concentrated hard enough. 

They moved towards the clearing slowly, the stones standing as solid and true as the day they were placed, any greenery that had dared to encroach seemed to do so with its own level of respect. MC moved towards the centre of the ring, turning in a circle as she studied the stones. Markings had been carved into them, symbols that were intriguing but very few looked familiar to Sebastian. 

MC sighed, her shoulders slumping. She shook her head and gave him a defeated look. No ancient magic here, either. All that walking for nothing. What were they doing wrong? 

MC

The leather of Noctua Gaunt’s journal was supple and smooth, the book a pleasant weight in her hands. MC let her fingers slide over the cover, deep in thought as she sat with her back resting against a tree under a canopy of tall ash. She had never known her mother, and to read about her within the pages of a book was strange, disconnected. It made her appear as a character in a story rather than a living and breathing person, and yet, she was out there in the world somewhere if records proved true. The fear that lingered in MC’s heart that Elizabeth had met a similar fate to Noctua kept taunting her. Perhaps she was foolish to get her hopes up, and any daydreams about a reunion were neither helpful nor wise.

Elizabeth Gaunt had fallen for a Muggle. A forbidden love for a daughter who came from a line of pure magical blood, her family staunch believers in keeping magic within the bloodlines. The emotions may be written by a second hand, but MC still felt an affinity to a young girl who felt confused about her own feelings. The circumstances may have been different, but MC was confounded by the way her heart seemed to find itself torn between two very different men. However she tried to imagine a life with either of them, it always came to the fear that she would end up destroying them both, as Elizabeth appeared to have ended up destroying her own true love for daring to take what she wanted.

Leander had a pure soul, and she could not bear the thought of dragging him under the shadow of her darkness. She had warned him of such, and yet he remained. Sebastian carried his own darkness, their paths entwined so deeply that surely they were like kindred spirits. His twin thought otherwise. Anne’s bitter prediction that MC would destroy Sebastian in the end still echoed through her thoughts. Could it be so? As much as she resented Anne, her words had struck a nerve, nudging up against the old fears that she had carried throughout her whole life. That she was not worthy of love. Abandoned as a child, never adopted, always on the outside looking in, followed by a darkness that owned her. Always alone, even when she had bound herself to another. 

To take the love that Leander offered so willingly would be a selfish thing to do. It terrified her when she saw that softness in his eyes, how fragile and untouchable it appeared, and if she broke it, which surely she would eventually, then it would be lost forever. The irony of it brought tears to her eyes. In not accepting what he had to offer, she proved only that she returned his affections. If she did not care, she would drain him of all he had to give. It would seem she did care, a lot.

Allowing a tear to escape and roll down her cheek, she thought of Leander, allowing herself to relax the solid walls of protection she had built around herself the last few days. Sebastian had excused himself, wandering off a way under the cover of lingering fog through the trees. The few moments of his absence provided precious time for her to vent the pent up emotion stuffed tightly in her chest. Closing her eyes, all she could see was Leander standing in the kitchen of Shell Cottage, his face a mask of bravery whilst his eyes glittered with his pain. Leaving him like that had been so very difficult, but in the end, it had to be for the best.

Taking a deep breath, MC took out the secret parchment and opened it out on top of the journal, tapping it with her wand and turning up nothing. No messages from Leander.  Swallowing foolish disappointment, she reminded herself that she had a job to do, and she wouldn’t let him down. Wiping the tear from her cheek, she sat up straighter, writing quickly before Sebastian returned. The little tidbit of information that Sebastian had shared about the tunnels in the cliffs at Dover would be valuable information, and she explained quickly. Resisting the urge to add anything personal, she tapped her wand and sent the words on their way to her Auror. 

When Sebastian wandered back through the trees, the low lying mist swirling around his boots, she gave him a wary look. Caught off guard for those brief seconds, she met his gaze and her heart thundered behind her ribs. His look was drenched in curiosity, he knew she was suppressing something, and she feared the questions he would likely ask. She wasn’t ready to answer them. She could feel his need rolling off him in waves, curling with the mists and snaking around her, his eyes almost begging for her to open up to him as he rolled his lower lip thoughtfully. 

Dragging her eyes from him, she stuffed the journal back into her bag and got to her feet, brushing dirt and leaves from her trousers. Barriers firmly back in place, she slung her bag over her shoulder and glanced towards the trail. “We should get moving,” she said stiffly. “We have one more possible location to scout out before nightfall.”

Sebastian paused beside her, picking up his own bag and taking out the map. She could feel the strength of his gaze on her, but kept her own eyes averted, looking down at the markers he had drawn on the map. He pointed at the next location with a grubby finger, small scars that looked like burns from spells embedded on his skin. Hands capable of such destruction, and yet she found she liked looking at them, unable to help herself as she took in the veins on the back of them filled with his life blood. Hands that had held her, touched her in ways that left her breathless. Hands that could kill. 

“There is a village nearby where we could stop for provisions,” he said, showing her on the map. “I’m almost out of snacks, and I’m pretty hungry.”

Risking a look at him, his expression was one of simple enquiry, the earlier raw need gone. Her lips almost curved into a smile. “You had a massive breakfast, Sebastian. How are you so hungry already?”

“It’s all this fresh air and exercise, love,” he smirked, patting his stomach. “It gives one an appetite.”

She dared to poke a finger into the softness of his tummy. He was by no means overweight, but neither was he lean and hard. He had that solid build, with just an edge of softness, a body that was both strong and capable of the most satisfying hugs. She felt warmth flame her cheeks as she recalled curling into him and falling asleep the other night. Clearing her throat, she lifted her eyebrows, flashing him a teasing glance. “Aww, cute and squishy like a teddy bear. Must be all the snacks.”

He scowled and rubbed his stomach again, looking down at it. “Are you suggesting I’m getting chubby?” He asked, pinching at his flesh through his shirt.

She stepped out along the path with a chuckle, glancing back to him, allowing her gaze to sweep slowly over him. There was nothing boyish about him anymore, except for maybe the twinkle in his eyes sometimes, and he definitely wasn’t chubby. Her eyes lingered on the cut of his jaw, darkened with a few days worth of stubble, the strength in his neck and shoulders. She knew all too well how easily he could lift her up. Her fingers clutched at her bag strap as she let her gaze wander down over his torso, lingering on thick, powerful thighs. Solid, strong, but fast, those legs could side step and fall into powerful stances during duels. He could run, too.

Biting her lower lip, her gaze lifted to meet him once more, and she could see the way those chocolate eyes had darkened. Staring each other down under the canopy of the forest, she felt the primal pulse of blatant desire flare in her blood, calling to him. His throat worked as he swallowed, his lips parting slightly as though about to speak.

“Don’t worry, I was merely jesting,” she said quickly, flashing him a quick smile. “I'm sure there are plenty of adoring fans at the duelling pit when you start flexing your prowess.”

Turning quickly so she could get a grip on her flushed state, she began to stride along the path, blood pumping. It wouldn’t do to get all carried away with intrusive thoughts. His mouth had always been distracting, and she had enough to figure out without adding ideas of what that mouth could do.

“I should hope so,” he cracked, following her, his boots thudding against the dirt. “It takes a lot of care and attention to look this good, darling. I wouldn’t like to disappoint.”

She huffed a laugh, throwing her eyes up towards the gently swaying branches above their heads, golden leaves fluttering down to carpet the forest floor in a blanket of fiery colours. “Always so bloody sure of himself,” she muttered.

Hands gripped her waist and she jumped with a sharp intake of breath, her feet stilling as he bent close to her ear, his breath hot on her neck. “I heard that,” he murmured, his fingers flexing in a tempting grip. “If you don’t believe me, you are most welcome to conduct a more thorough investigation. You would find me a very willing participant.”

Gulping in an attempt to steady her breathing, MC desperately tried to get a grip on the roaring of her pulse, every nerve ending seeming to bend and scrape to his will. “Oh, I have no doubt about your willingness,” she quipped, aiming for bored and unimpressed, but sounding dangerously close to breathy and needy. “It likely equals your level of audacity and randiness. Quite the scoundrel, in fact.”

His nose brushed up the column of her neck, his throaty chuckle sending shivers down her spine as her head tipped foolishly back a touch. All this wonderful fresh air, and yet she couldn’t breathe sufficiently. “I would wager that you secretly enjoy the scoundrel in me,” he teased, soft lips grazing against her skin, the scratch of stubble added just enough roughness to make her sigh. “You are quite the vixen yourself, MC. Do you even know what you do to a man when you look at him with that dark fire in your eyes? When you sway these delectable hips…”

His hands slid down to cup her hips, drawing her back against him so that her back was flush against that solid strength she had been appraising. No, she absolutely wasn’t leaning into him, her eyes closing as his hot mouth claimed a taste of her neck, over and over again, until she felt the tantalising tug of his teeth on her earlobe.

“Seb…” It was the ghost of a whisper through her lips, her back arching as the flat of his palm slid down to the top of her thigh.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he breathed into her hair, his fingers digging deliciously into the flesh of her thigh before he dragged them slowly upwards.

A soft sound left her throat as her knees trembled. Scoundrel, indeed. He knew what he was doing, and she let him, her skin inflamed with every heated touch of that wicked mouth. With one hand splayed at her midriff, and the other seeking out the curve of her hip and backside, her body was melting into his touch. How easy would it be to give in and let him have her? Like falling back into a feather pillow, surrounded by his scent, his arms, his kisses driving the wildfire in her blood to dizzying heights. So effortless.

“Seb,” she said again, firmer this time, her brows drawing together. 

He spun her round to face him, his hand claiming her jaw as he pressed his hot mouth to hers in a dominant kiss. While her fingers clutched at his jacket, and her mouth opened to welcome the slide of his tongue, she felt the first flutters of insecurity and panic begin to dance in her chest. 

This isn’t love, it’s obsession. She will destroy you. 

Her hands were in his unruly mop of hair, his low groan into her mouth making her thighs clench as his hands moulded her curves. Their kisses had become desperate, ravenous, their hot gasps for breath loud in the surrounding quietness. But, the doubts filtered through the haze.

If you were to allow it, I would love you until the very end of existence. 

Breaking the kiss with a whimper, MC squeezed her eyes closed against the voices in her head. Anne and her bitterness, Leander and his soft brown eyes full of love she could never accept, Luella Rookwood’s possessive hand on Sebastian’s arm. Her chest tightened but she couldn’t seem to let go of Sebastian, her hands curled into his black jacket as though her life depended on it. His eyes were aflame with hunger, dark and wild, his freckled cheeks flushed with passion when she dared to look at him. They shouldn’t be doing this. Every cell in her body was screaming for him, but that little cold slice of her that held all her fear and doubt began to cut through the fire in her blood. It had not been that long since they had held others in their arms, and tasted kisses from another’s lips. 

He shook his head, his eyes turning pained. “No, don’t do that,” he begged, holding her tighter against him. “Don’t you dare start shutting down on me, not now. Please. Don’t push me away, MC.”

“It’s too soon,” she rasped, shaking her head. She stepped back, her arms straightening where she still clutched his jacket, holding him at bay. “I can’t.”

“Surely, you must feel this…this connection between us,” he said, grasping her arms in a tight grip. The desperation on his face, that flicker of fear in his gaze, it made her heart twist painfully. “Please, MC. I love you so much. You drive me crazy being this close, but so out of reach. What do you want me to do? I can’t stop how I feel about you, not ever.”

“You said you could wait,” she winced, his declaration joining Leander’s in the jumbled mess of emotions bubbling inside of her. 

A pained look crossed his face and he let her arms go, his hands dropping to his sides and he looked away through the trees. “What am I waiting for, MC? Tell me that. Am I waiting for you? Or, are you going to tell me that you love him more, and then go off to live your life without me? Is that how you will break me, MC? Are you planning to leave in the end?” 

A tear slid from her eye and she flinched, blinking rapidly against the swell and burn of more filling her eyes. Her lips parted but no words came. Would she leave him? Slowly letting go of his jacket, she turned her left palm up to look at the red scar there. She was bound to him until death, and therefore, he would always be a part of her. She could never fully turn her back on him, and neither could he do the same to her. But, was it enough?

Sebastian wrapped a hand around hers, squeezing it gently. “Don’t look at that, look at me,” he said softly. “When you look at me, I feel like you see me for who I truly am. You have seen the worst of me, and yet you stuck around. You are more than just a scar on my palm. You’re everything.” 

“I…I’m scared,” she admitted, withdrawing away from him, her arms curling around herself as she stepped back. So long in the dark, alone and afraid. Now, she was surrounded by what she had craved for years, but she was too scared to reach out and take it. “What if it’s not real? What if it’s just the foolish, teenage dream you’re in love with rather than me? I’m not that girl any more. Azkaban changed me. I’m harder, colder, the darkness is always there waiting for me. What if I destroy you? What if I can’t give you what you want?”

He looked crestfallen. Those big, brown eyes of his made her think of an abandoned puppy, lost and in need of reassurance. “What are you saying?”

The truth had spilled from her lips and she cringed from it, slapping her hand to her mouth and turning from him. “I can’t…I can’t do this right now.”

He called out to her, but her feet kept moving, one in front of the other until she was running. Speaking the darkest, painful truth had split the fear into shards and now they were digging their jagged edges into her chest. It left a raw feeling there, replacing the heated desire that had bloomed so ferociously before. Feeling exposed and vulnerable, she ran. The path winding through the trees splitting off into tangents that she paid no heed to as her feet hit the dirt. Running from herself, running from the dark, and behind her, the inevitable steady beat of footsteps running after her. 

Sebastian

When MC had run from him on the peaks above Hogwarts Valley, he had let her go. Her magic had blasted from the depths of the forest in her rage and pain, but he had not gone after her. This time, he gave chase. Instead of Apparating, she had run, and it would be no great effort to catch up to her. He had wanted her to open up to him so desperately, but when that thick shield she clung to had cracked, the vulnerability that had haunted her eyes had staggered him. She had said the darkness lingered there waiting for her, and that was something he knew all about. 

The weak sunlight dappled through the forest canopy, flickering in shades and glimmers on her black hair, strands of it slipping loose from the braid that hung down her back. She was nimble on her feet like a sprite, but she was tiring quickly, her strides lagging as she ran aimlessly through the trees. He could hear her laboured breaths, his mind racing with all that had transpired between them in the last few days. 

Anne had rattled her with poisonous words, planting seeds of doubt in a mind already guarded against him. He loved his twin, but damn, he could throttle her sometimes. Whatever had gone down between MC and Leander haunted her thoughts, her gaze faraway and distracted, her quietness laying thick and heavy ever since she had returned from that meeting. That scared him more than anything Anne could say. Anne he could deal with. MC’s feelings for Prewett were a whole other matter entirely. 

Despite the nagging fear that MC was in love with another man, he could not get that kiss out of his mind. He couldn’t be mistaken. The fire in her gaze, the way she had responded to his touch, it was tangible and explosive. He couldn’t be the only one who felt it, she had to feel that burn between them as he did. Certain that she did, the fear she had admitted to just now had her in a vice grip, and she was holding back from him. There was still hope. There had to be.

The path appeared to be widening out, a strange sound drifting through the trees, like sticks clacking together. MC slowed, her step faltering as a clearing opened up before them. The sound of a babbling spring joined the clacking sticks, MC coming to a standstill before a huge hawthorn tree decorated with ribbons and strips of cloth. Coming to a stop beside her, both of them catching their breaths, Sebastian felt his skin prickle with the sensation that came from being in a sacred place. He recognised the significance of the clearing immediately, his eyes taking in the offerings tied to the tree.

The clacking sticks were makeshift wind charms strung up on nearby ash trees, the breeze catching them and making them sound their strange music as the scraps of fabric fluttered and danced along with them. MC took a step back, her gaze full of curious wonder as she looked around the clearing, seemingly forgetting why she had run from him.

“What is this place?” She shivered, rubbing her arms, a look of intense concentration darkening her face.

“It’s a Clootie tree,” he said, his voice hushed.

“A what?” She turned to look at him, her brow creased.

“A Clootie tree,” he repeated, pointing up to the branches of the hawthorn. “Clootie means cloth. You find them near sacred wells or springs. People come to make an offering, dipping their Clootie into the water and tying it to the tree in the hopes of curing their loved one from some ailment. It’s sometimes done as a gift to the goddess, or spirit, that guards the sacred well, but mostly it is a prayer for good health.” 

MC took a tentative step towards the tree, studying the offerings. Some of them were very faded, the fabric threadbare from age, others looked more recent, one a particularly lovely silk ribbon tied in a bow. “So, these are all likely to represent someone who is hurt, or sick?” 

Sebastian nodded, solemnly. She turned to look at him again, a shadow of sadness in her eyes. “Does it work?” 

“I’m not sure,” he shrugged, looking at a rather faded scrap of tartan. “It’s said that as the fabric wears thin, the ailment fades with it. It could just be a comfort, but as you and I both know, magic is capable of wonderful things. It may surprise you to hear that most of these were likely placed here by Muggles, though. It’s a Celtic tradition going back centuries. You will find these all over Scotland and Ireland, no doubt in Northern Europe, too.” 

The soft look she gave him stirred at the hope he clung to. “Do you know them from personal experience, or through your reading?”

“Both,” he said, his smile sad. “I’ve read about them, of course, but when I was a small child, I remember visiting one with Anne and my mother. We gave an offering to the tree for my grandmother.”

“What happened?”

Sebastian looked at the offerings and swallowed thickly. It had been the first loss he’d experienced in his young life, but definitely not the last. “She died,” he whispered.

“I’m so sorry,” MC said, moving a little closer towards him.

“I remember standing there watching my mother tie the piece of cloth to the tree, and I didn’t believe it would make a difference. I think I even complained about how cold it was that day, the whole idea seeming silly and annoying when I had a new toy train to play with at home.” He bowed his head, worrying at his lower lip as old grief rose up to mingle with new. Always, those he loved had to leave. “Then when grandma died, I lay awake worrying that it was because I didn’t believe in the Clootie tree. It was my fault that the wish didn’t work, and if mother ever found out, she would blame me, too.”

He felt her hand on his forearm, gentle, reassuring. “It’s not your fault, Seb. People die, it’s the way of life. One young boy cannot hold back what nature intends. I doubt your mother would have blamed you, either. Terrible things happen to good people, and we must find a way to carry that loss. There is nothing you could have done.”

“But, what if there was?” He said, his voice hoarse with the emotion bubbling up his throat. “Everyone I love leaves in some form or another. It must all come back to me somehow, and no matter how many books I read, or how many shadows I battle, people still end up leaving. I have to find a way to fix whatever dark curse hangs over me, this rotten luck that steals all that is good and leaves me with nothing.”

She stared at him, wide eyed, lips parted, as he ranted. It seemed she was not the only one cracking open and spilling dark truths. Feeling ashamed of his failures, he put a hand to his face, his eyes squeezing tightly closed as the well of darkness inside of him threatened to spill over. His stomach churned. Shame and guilt, fear and self-loathing, all twisting together to form a lead ball that lay heavy within.

“Perhaps you are right to be wary of me, MC,” he said, voice cracking. “It could well be that I end up destroying you rather than you destroying me. Look what has happened to you already because of me.”

“Do you think Anne has a point?” She asked quietly after a moment. That flicker of worry appeared in her eyes again. “Is this a toxic obsession? What do you see when you look at me? You said I see you despite your darkness, but what of me? I’m just as dark, and definitely more dangerous with the power that I have access to.”

Risking her running from him again, he cupped her face, making sure that he looked directly into her eyes as he spoke. “Yes, you are powerful, and I won’t deny the excitement I feel when I see you unleash it. It truly fascinates me, but that’s my thirst for wanting to know about all things magical. That’s the Ravenclaw part of me that is all my mother. But, the more time that I spent with you, the more I realised that the girl behind all of that was worth knowing, too. I felt this affinity to you, like I could have known you on another plane of existence, or something.”

“A kindred spirit,” she murmured, a slight smile curving her lips. “You said that to me once.”

His own mouth curved in remembrance, his thumb stroking her cheek. “You know me better than anyone, aside from Anne. As I said before, you have seen my darkness, and you stayed. I am not afraid of your darkness, MC. It could be a mirror of my own, and if Anne thinks we will only destroy each other, then I am still willing to risk it. All the time you are willing to hold my hand as we face whatever it is we have to face, then I’m here. If you go down, then I’m coming with you, because if there is one thing I learned while you were gone, it’s that I am fucking miserable without you beside me.”

Her head tilted slightly, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. “You’re a big softie underneath all that dark magic and fierce duelling, aren’t you?”

He gave her his most devilish smirk, leaning in closer towards her. “Don’t tell anyone,” he murmured, dropping her a wink.

“It’s a good thing I am a master of keeping your secrets,” she said, dipping her hand into the collar of her shirt and pulling out the silver chain that held the amulet. The blood stone glittered eerily in the dappled light of the clearing. “I swore on our blood that I would, but even without it, I would keep your secrets, Sebastian. Just as you have kept mine.”

Was it enough, though? He studied the amulet, mulling over the pact they had made. He remembered how strongly he had believed in his love for her. When she had asked if it was nothing more than a teenage dream, it had felt like a blow to his stomach. Looking at her now, her hair tumbling free from her braid, her face pink and blotchy from her tears, he couldn’t imagine feeling this way about anyone else. 

“I should have married you instead of making this blood pact,” he said, taking hold of her left hand. He brushed a thumb over her ring finger. “We could have done it despite our age. We broke so many other rules, why not that one? We could have done it the old fashioned way and performed a Handfast ceremony, they are as good as law here in Scotland. You would have been mine forever.”

She gaped at him. “Marriage? Bloody hell, Sebastian! We were kids! Do you think it would have made any difference? Wouldn’t we still be standing here without a clue what we are doing?” 

“Would you have gone to Prewett’s bed if we were wed?” The question fired from his lips, bringing his fear of her feelings for the Auror into the open.

MC reeled backwards, her cheeks flushing scarlet, and her mouth forming a tight line. “I could ask the same question of you with regards to Miss Rookwood,” she snapped.

“Ask it,” he said firmly. “Ask me, and I will tell you. I would not. She means nothing to me, nothing at all. But, Prewett is a whole other kettle of grindylows, isn’t he? I didn’t move on, MC, but I think you did. You moved on, and you’re too scared to admit it.”

Her eyes widened, and she stepped back, her hands darting up to fiddle with loose strands of her hair. “Admit what, exactly?”

“I know you have feelings for him,” he pressed, his chest heavy as though filled with rock. “As much as it kills me, I saw it in your eyes. You love him, and that’s why you have been so cold and distant with me. You are pushing me back, and I think it’s because of him. I’m right, aren’t I?” 

Her lips parted with a harsh sigh, a small cry of distress leaving her lips. “It’s not the same,” she said, her voice breathless and high. 

“You either love him, or you don’t, MC,” he said, shaking his head. “Am I a fool for thinking that the kiss we just shared meant something? Am I really waiting for you to break my heart?”

She put her hands to her head and paced, her chest rising and falling with tortured breaths. Each agonising second that passed without an answer seemed to make the weight on his chest grow heavier. She wasn’t denying it, his worst fears were manifesting right in front of him, and he felt sick. She was going to leave him for another. 

“You are not a fool, Sebastian,” she said, coming to a stop before him. He almost held his breath as he waited. “But, you are right, I do need to be honest with you. I’m not going to deny that I have feelings for Leander. I cannot help how I feel, and I won’t do him an injustice by pretending that he doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“Fucking hell,” Seb groaned, pushing his hands into his hair and looking up at the swaying branches of the trees. 

“You wanted to hear this, Sebastian, and so you can damn well listen!” She said firmly. When he glanced back at her, she had her hands on her hips, her face determined. “He loves me. I know it, and I know he would do anything for me, but I can’t…”

She winced and looked down, taking a deep breath.

“Can’t what?” 

“I can’t give him what he wants,” she said, tears forming in her eyes. She sniffed and put the back of her hand beneath her nose. “He offered me the chance to start a new life, and I turned him down. How could I accept such a thing when I cannot give him all of myself in return? I broke his heart because…because all that he wanted from me, that part of me, in here…” She patted her hand to her chest, tears rolling freely down her cheeks now as she looked at him. “I’m pretty sure that part already belongs to you.”

Her words washed over him, pulling him back from the edge, a stuttered gasp ripping from his chest. The relief that she felt that way had him staggering towards her and dropping to his knees. In that moment, there was no swagger, no smirking, just raw emotion as he buried his face into her stomach, his hands holding her as though she was made of precious glass. He felt her hand in his hair, the touch soothing, and sending shivers down his spine. 

“I haven’t given up on us, Seb,” she said, her voice thick with tears. “There is still a lot to figure out, and that might take some time, but I haven’t given up.”

Sebastian nuzzled into her warmth, breathing her in and drawing comfort from knowing that she was his, but that niggling fear still lingered. She admitted having feelings for Leander. “And, Prewett?” 

He bit his lip, expecting her to push him off, but he felt her shudder. He kept his face buried into the fabric of her clothing, afraid of what he would see on her face if he looked up. 

“I don’t want to hurt him,” she whispered. “He is a good person, and he deserves so much more than what I could give him. My darkness would swallow him whole. I have to let him go.”

For the first time since he had met Prewett in their first year at Hogwarts, he felt a pang of sympathy for him. There was pain and regret in MC’s voice, and while Sebastian hated the thought of them being close with each other, he could understand the pain of wanting someone and then losing them. That could have been him, he could have been the one to be let go of, and perhaps he still could. 

“I will do whatever it takes, MC,” he vowed. “You know I am yours.” 

Her hand swept through his hair, her fingers caressing the back of his neck as he remained there on his knees, holding her. The crude wind chimes clacked together in the trees above, the babbling spring gushed as it had done for centuries, and Sebastian allowed himself a moment of peace beneath the Clootie offerings. This time, he was going to believe in the sentiment that good things could happen. 

“I don’t wish to break up the moment, but there is something you should know,” MC said quietly. Sebastian tensed, waiting. “I know you can’t see it, but there is ancient magic here. It’s glimmering around the trunk of the tree, little wisps of it trailing up and around the branches. The offerings are all touched by the magic, too. It’s actually rather beautiful.” 

Sebastian lifted his head to look up at the tree, but of course, he could not see what she could. He could feel the power of the space, ancient and steeped with years of human emotion. People came here because they were sad, hurting, desperate. They came to make their offering to save their loved ones. That kind of emotional magic was bound to leave a mark. 

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, getting to his feet. A strange tingling sensation swept through him as the realisation dawned, and he grabbed MC by the hand. “We have been looking at the deposits all wrong. We are assuming that ancient magic would reside in ancient places, but what if that’s not the true source. It’s old, of course, but age shouldn’t dictate where it would gather.” 

“What are you thinking, Seb?” She asked, her grip tightening on his hand as he gazed up at the tree. 

“These offerings,” he said, gesturing up towards them as he looked at her. “They are emotional. What if that is what draws the ancient magic here? What if it's the emotion that manifests it?” 

Her gaze lifted to the tree, her mouth parting as he saw the way her thoughts must be racing. A quiver of excitement trembled through him, as it always did when he stumbled across a brilliant idea. 

“That would make sense,” she nodded, her gaze dipping shyly before she spoke again. “There have been instances where ancient magic has burst out of me without the use of a wand, and those moments have always been highly emotionally charged. I…I saved Leander from Dementors inside Azkaban without a wand. It just happened. So, the idea of ancient magic being attached to emotions is actually a good one. Let’s not forget that Isadora created the repository using painful human emotions, too.” 

“I should have seen it sooner,” he said, his jaw clenching at how obvious it seemed now. “We could have been spending our time seeking out locations where emotional magic has been cast. Perhaps we would have been more successful.” 

“Well, we know now, at least we think we do,” she said, her eyes brightening. “We need to test this theory. We need a location where something emotional would have happened. How are we going to find places like that?” 

A thought began to turn in his mind, and he was reluctant to suggest it, but it would make perfect sense. The issue was whether he would be able to handle it. Looking at MC, their hands clasped, and the knowledge that she hadn’t given up on him seemed to lend him added strength. “Emotionally charged magic like the murder of a relative in extreme circumstances? How about that for a location to test the theory?” 

Her blue eyes stared at him, and he could see the echo of his own shadows flickering there. They would never forget that day down in those catacombs, it would live inside them for the rest of their lives. 

“Are you sure?” She asked, her worry creasing her brow. 

No, he wasn’t sure, his guilt and fear seemed to stretch and crawl under his flesh. “I guess there is only one way to find out, sweetheart,” he said, and held her closer as he let the image of the Feldcroft catacomb entrance fill his mind. 

MC

The fresh, briney scent of the ocean greeted them as they landed on the cliff top near Feldcroft, the stiff breeze tugging at their hair and cloaks as they gathered their bearings. Tall pines creaked and swayed in the wind, the happy chatter of songbirds a peculiar juxtaposition to the ominous looking entrance of the catacombs. Carved ancient stones leaned amongst the twisted, gnarled tree roots that reached like claws towards the dirt beaten path. A tomb of the dead, ancient and long forgotten, clinging to magic crafted centuries before. The atmosphere spoke of age and dust, but she knew what lingered down there in the dark. 

MC shivered and looked to Sebastian, taking in the paleness beneath his freckles, his eyes fixed on the darkened entrance with a hesitant look. 

“We don’t have to do this,” she said quietly.

His hand massaged anxiously at her waist as he gave a jerky nod. “I’ll be alright. We need to see if we’re right about this.” 

Taking his hand in hers, they walked into the entrance, leaving behind the soft autumn skies for the damp chill of stone and sand. Descending down the cracked stone steps, aged candles flickered into life casting an eerie pale glow to light their way. 

“Do you think anyone has been down here since that day?” Sebastian asked, his voice low and tight. 

MC scanned the path ahead, water dripping down the walls and the patter of a startled rat echoing down the tunnel carved into the rock. “It’s hard to say,” she said. “I’m sure anything worth any value was looted long ago. What would bring anyone here?” 

“I don’t know, explorers, history lovers, desperate boys with grand plans of saving the world.” 

MC paused to look at Sebastian, the brittle sadness behind his words making her question the wiseness of taking him down into these catacombs. She squeezed his hand, her own apprehension twisting in her chest, but she tried to suppress it. “I can go on alone, you know. I’m not afraid,” she suggested. “You can wait for me outside if this is going to be too much.”

His jaw tightened and he took a breath. “Come on,” he said, tugging her forward. “You are not going down here alone.” 

It could almost make her smile how he still insisted on being her protector, despite the ancient power that lived in her veins. There was nothing in these tunnels that she couldn’t fight off, she was more than capable, but he still had the need to be her saviour. 

They walked on, taking the twists and turns with their wands in hand, their other hands still tightly clasped. The candles lit up as they went, casting eerie shadows on stone walls and reflecting off the huge puddles that flooded the chambers. Their boots echoed off the stone flooring sections, the rest of the tombs appearing empty and quiet aside from the odd scampering rat. 

“I had forgotten how much of a warren this place was,” MC murmured as they came out on a large curved balcony, the huge circular chamber supported by solid stone columns. Candles illuminated the space, revealing the shattered coffins and dusty urns on their shelves. Down in the centre of the chamber was a stone altar, abandoned, but left as it was last used. As they wandered down the slope, trying to remember which archway to take next, countless old skulls stared back at them with dark, empty eye sockets. “Can you remember which way to go?” 

Sebastian paused near the altar, frowning slightly as he eyed the options. “There were so many ancient puzzles to solve to get through here, but it seems the doorways are all still open.” 

MC stared at one archway in particular, goosebumps erupting along her arms as she felt a familiar hum beneath her feet. Her heart picked up the pace and she aimed her wand towards the entrance, a stale stench wafting from the dark maw. She could feel it. There was magic here. “This way,” she said. 

They continued on, their hands still tightly wrapped around each other despite the sticky sheen of sweat that had gathered on their palms. Sebastian was quiet, his face drawn and eyes dark. MC could feel the tension on the back of her neck as memories of that awful day returned and replayed in her head, these walls echoing with the shouts, flickering with the spells of their fight with his uncle. 

It was hard not to wonder what Solomon’s motives were, a question that had plagued her during long hours in the dark serving time for his murder. It was all together more strange and frustrating now that she had discovered he had known her as a very small child. It made her feel cold, numb, a sense of dread that this had all been a cruel trick of fate for them all. 

All the while, she felt the pulse of magic begin to strengthen beneath her feet, the static in the air prickled on her skin, and she tried to remain calm. Sebastian couldn’t feel any of those things, but he could probably sense her tension as they entered a chamber with a staircase conjured from ancient bones. They both stood before it, a sense of dread looming over them, the entrance above the staircase flickering with a familiar blue and white light. The power throbbed and pulsed with renewed strength, and she felt the answering call in her blood.

“You were right,” she said softly, turning to look at Sebastian. “There is ancient magic here.” 

A muscle ticked in his jaw as his gaze remained locked on the doorway, a sheen of sweat glistened on his brow, and he was breathing faster. He shook his head, pulling her back a step. “I can’t…” 

She grabbed his arm, steadying him as he trembled, his eyes still fixed on the doorway with a wide, haunted stare. “You’re alright,” she soothed. “You don’t have to go in there.” 

Tearing from her grip with a tortured groan, he clamped both his hands to his own head, deathly pale as he sucked in panicked breaths. The ghosts of the past were lurking in his eyes, remembering the darkness that had made him flee these tunnels years ago in grief and despair. Their lives had changed down here, his more than hers, at least for a time. 

“I know this is tough,” she said carefully, holding her hand towards him. “But, I’m right here with you, okay? I can run in, absorb the deposit, and then we can get out of this place. We have what we came for, proof of your theory.”  

He looked at her, his eyes dark and glazed with tears. “That magic can’t be good, MC. How can it be? I killed my own flesh and blood. So much hate…” 

His voice trailed off, his eyes drawn back to the catacomb beyond. 

“The hate is gone now, Sebastian,” she said, stepping towards him. Carefully, she placed a hand to his cheek, soothing him with soft touches. “The hate died with him. He’s gone. All that is left are memories, and a spark of magic that I can put to good use.” 

“He’s still in here, though,” he said through gritted teeth, jabbing a finger against his head. “Even in my dreams I hear him. There is no end to it, but I know that it is all my fault. It is the burden I must carry from the choice that I made.” 

Her heart squeezed and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. He was stiff and trembling, but returned the embrace. Her earlier observations about him no longer being a boy seemed to melt away as she stroked his back. Deep down, his inner child was still broken, hiding from the pain and guilt of his actions, drowning under the weight of his uncle’s cold cruelty. In these damp and creepy catacombs, he was still the boy slumped against the wall, watching what was left of his family vanish in the wake of his fury. 

“We will be in, and out,” she promised, her hand soothing the back of his neck. “I only need a minute or two at the most to absorb the deposit, and then we can Apparate away from this place. We will never need to return here again, we can leave it in the past where it belongs.” 

He buried his face into her hair and squeezed her to him. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice muffled. 

She kissed his head, her own demons stalking through the dark of her mind, but she remained steady on her feet. Determination steeled her spine. “And I love you,” she declared. 

Leander 

Today’s briefing had an air of expectancy as Harrington shared information to those Auror’s gathered in preparation for tonight’s raid. Leander sat tense and alert, his fingers twisting around the smooth wood of his wand as he looked at the blackboard behind Harrington. A map of Dover had been pinned to it, markers along the coast suggesting tunnels that had been quickly researched by the archive team this afternoon. The Auror crew that manned the docks at Dover had been informed of the state of affairs by owl, and were on alert. 

When MC’s secret message had come to him, his heart had jumped, his nerves still raw from their last meeting. If he was honest with himself, he had been running on automatic, like a steam engine powering through on sturdy rails. He was coasting, his head stuck in a loop of those moments in the kitchen with her. The scoop she had passed on to him about the Rookwood hideout in the tunnels had switched the pace, firing his head into action, and now he was firing on hot coals. Eager to get into the fray, his eyes were keenly alert as the instructions were given out. 

“We are of the understanding that this hideout is not much more than a storage facility,” Harrington said, shifting his gaze around his team gathered. “Our inside information is newly received, and therefore not completely researched. In order to discover more, we need to investigate these tunnels. There will likely be enchantments, and Ashwinder guards, too. I want you in pairs so that you can watch each other’s backs.”

Leander shifted his attention to the blonde witch seated beside him to see her fully focused, quill poised above her little notebook. Montgomery had that eager to please aura that came from the newly qualified, and he remembered his first proper field work when he joined the Auror Office, that hunger to achieve and impress. 

She felt his gaze on her and glanced his way, her eyes brightening with excitement. “I’m guessing it’s me and you, partner,” she smiled. “You’re not going to leave me behind this time, are you?”

He shook his head, smirking at her upbeat expression. “Indeed it will be you and I teaming up. Potentially, your first proper taste of facing down some Ashwinders. Are you ready for possible combat?” 

A fire blazed in the depths of her eyes. “Absolutely,” she said firmly. 

Back at his desk, Leander brushed his thumb over his Auror badge before slipping it back into his pocket, his attention drawn to the framed photographs of his family. The life of an Auror was one lived on a constant edge. Tonight’s raid was another gamble at becoming injured, or perhaps an opportunity to face Death himself. He knew the risks, as did his family. It was the chance you took when you signed up for this life. He wasn’t sure if it was something that you ever got used to, but you faced it all the same. He supposed that was where the bravery came in, and it was telling when you considered that a high percentage of the Auror Office had come from Gryffindor house. 

Adjusting his tie, and donning his Auror robe, Leander tucked his chair neatly under his desk and straightened the quill placed in its holder before walking across to Montgomery’s desk. Already in her robe, she smiled up at him. “Is it time to go?”

“If you’re ready,” he nodded. “We are to take the Floo to the docks, and make our way up the cliff side from there. The border Auror team will direct us.”

“I’ve never been to Dover,” Montgomery said, tucking her wand away. “I hear the white cliffs are rather impressive, and topped by a magnificent castle. I never really paid much attention to history, but Dover is one of those places that really stands out.”

“It’s been a strategic border defence for centuries,” he replied, standing aside to allow her to pass through the office doors first as they walked. “It’s Britain’s closest dock for Europe, and so there has always been a strong border force for trade and military purposes. I have been there a few times. It’s very busy, but well organised by both a Muggle and wizarding world presence, and has been for hundreds of years.”

She gave him a warm smile as they approached the Atrium. “It sounds like you paid attention in history class.”

He felt a blush warm his cheeks, his fingers lifting to touch at his tie. “I suppose you could say that, and I do like to read. It’s a relaxing way to wind down out of the office.” 

As they neared the rows of green flames flickering in the Floo fireplaces, they slowed their step, pausing before one of the portals. 

“I do hope MC has given you correct information,” Montgomery said thoughtfully, offering him her arm. Leander slipped a polite hand around the crook of her elbow. “You don’t think she would send us into a trap, do you?” 

Leander stared into the green flames, a tightness growing in his chest. “No, I don’t think she would do that. Her information is sound to the best of her knowledge.” 

“You place a lot of trust in her considering she is an ex-prisoner,” she said, gazing curiously at him. “A prisoner who was convicted and sent down for the murder of an Auror, no less.” 

Leander’s face hardened with determination. “Things aren’t always what they seem, Miss Montgomery. There is more to MC than what happened with that Auror, and I know that she despises Rookwood as much as we do. What she is doing for us is no easy feat. Deep in the Ashwinder camp, she risks her own life to pass on this information. I doubt she would do it needlessly, or recklessly.” 

“I hope she deserves such stout loyalty, Mr Prewett,” she said, the green glow of the flames reflected in her shrewd eyes. “We are about to enter the aforementioned Ashwinder territory on her word alone. I merely seek a little reassurance as to our chances out there.” 

“As an Auror, our chances are always hanging on the roll of the dice,” he said, but gave her arm a reassuring pat anyway. “Fear not, we are a good team, and I shall watch your back. That’s a promise. Shall we?” 

Her smile had a twinge of nervousness, but she nodded her consent to leave. Leander stepped towards the flames, his hand linked to her arm, and stated the Port of Dover as their destination. 

….*….

Echoes of the sea winds filled the dark, damp tunnel with eerie whines. They were old passageways, narrow and carved by hand through the chalk. Wands raised, and his senses on high alert, Leander stalked carefully through the dark with Montgomery. The Aurors stationed at the port had briefed them well, with some coming along to assist in the raid. He was confident that everything should fall in their favour. 

The tunnel wound upwards, the occasional vent allowing fresh air to circulate, weak beams of light offering slight relief from the claustrophobic atmosphere. They came to a fork in the path and he looked to Montgomery, using hand gestures to signal which path to take rather than speak and risk the echo of their voices giving them away. She nodded and moved to take the path, but the sound of screams and explosions began to come from the opposite tunnel. 

The fight was on. 

There was no time to think, only act. Taking off at a run, with Montgomery at his heels, they hurried towards the sound of spell casting, the flicker and flash of magic soon beginning to light up the tunnel ahead. When they came to the end of the tunnel, the space opened up into a cavern with a low ceiling, crates and sacks of goods stored against the chalk carved walls. 

Two Aurors were duelling with a group of Ashwinders, a few of them already down. Leander blocked a hex that shot past him, falling easily into fighting mode as he dived for cover behind some crates, firing a retaliation towards the rear of the cave. Using the storage as cover, he fought alongside his colleagues, ducking and maintaining a well trained combat strategy. 

A crate to his left exploded, splinters and dust flying out in all directions. He felt something catch his cheek with a sharp sting, but ignored it, rolling behind some more boxes as Montgomery hurried to join him. 

“Prewett! Are you alright?” She exclaimed, putting a hand to his shoulder to try and get a look at his face. 

“I’m fine,” he insisted, immediately spotting a familiar blonde haired witch stepping out from behind crates. Her gaze fixed firmly on him with interest, her wand arm aimed and ready.

”Prewett?” She purred, a slow smirk lifting her mouth. She was prettier than her wanted poster, but there was no mistaking who she was. Luella Rookwood. “I do believe I have heard of you.” 

A spell burst from the end of her wand, and Leander didn’t even think twice before he grabbed Montgomery and pulled her to the ground beside him as spells flew over their heads from all directions. If he hadn’t, the cast would have hit her right in the back, and his new partner was not going to get hurt on his watch. Montgomery grunted as she landed face first into the dusty floor, the brightness of the spell almost blinding him before he felt it slam into his chest. 

He could hear a muffled scream, but his chest was on fire with a searing pain, his eyes seeing white spots from the lingering glare of the spell. He was thrown back against the crates, the back of his head making contact with a sickening crack that made the world seem to spin before it went out of focus. 

It was pain, colours fading into darkness, an unbearable weight on his chest, and a female voice screaming his name. Then all was black. 

Sebastian

The book lay atop his bed bunk. There was not a speck of dust on it, the cover exactly as it had been when he had first laid eyes upon it. As much as it was hard to comprehend how it could possibly be sitting there now right in front of him, a thrill of excitement at the sheer brilliance of it was enough to accept it. 

“What should we do with it?” MC asked. She stood beside him, her eyes also fixed on the ancient tome. 

“Hide it,” he replied immediately, picking up the satisfying weight and resisting the urge to hold it against his chest as though to protect it. “Under no circumstances can Rookwood get his hands on this.” 

MC eyed the book and shivered, folding her arms tightly in front of her chest. She hadn’t touched it, but her eyes had been curious once the initial shock of its discovery had faded. 

Upon entering the catacomb where the deposit had been found, she had moved towards the centre of the room, her gaze fixed upon something that he couldn’t see. His stomach had churned standing in the doorway, dark memories threatening to swallow him whole as he stared at the ground where Solomon’s body had fallen. Seeing his uncle dead on the ground had been jarring, of course, but the pain of loss had been greater when Anne had turned her cold eyes on him and then disappeared. 

There could be no words capable of describing that sense of abandonment and loneliness. 

As MC had paced slowly in a circle, her wand aimed at nothing, Sebastian’s gaze had been drawn towards the stone altar to the left of the room. Every candle and torch had been illuminated upon their entry, lighting up the space to reveal the scattered bones and debris, glinting off the macabre baubles of spider silk wrapped prey above their heads. To add to the visibility, a shaft of sunlight came from a hole in the ceiling, the beams highlighted by the dust motes they had disturbed, lending the chamber an ethereal look. 

A sense of the impossible had washed over him, and he paused for a moment, seriously considering the idea that he had perhaps entered a dream. He’d blinked a few times, taking an uncertain step forward, his boot crunching on an old bone fragment underfoot. There, on the altar, had stood a book. It was propped up and open as though the reader would be back in just a moment, the pages bright from the nearby candle. Forgetting that MC was preparing to absorb the deposit behind him, he had approached the altar and a strangled sound of disbelief had escaped his throat. 

Slytherin’s grimoire stood as solid and legible as the day it was made, right there on the altar, which couldn’t be possible. Anne had blasted the tome to pieces in her rage that day, destroying the chance of Sebastian ever experimenting with the aged magic again. At least, that is what they had believed. Until now.

Of course, he had brought it with them, unable to leave such a precious artefact of significance there in those wasted caverns. MC had been wary of it, and still was, her apprehension compounded by her recent discovery of her Slytherin bloodline. The look she gave him now back in the tent, a glint of suspicion there with her wariness, made him bring the book closer to his chest after all. 

“The last time you used that book, terrible things happened,” she said carefully. “Perhaps you ought to hide it somewhere far out of reach lest you be tempted to use it again. I can’t believe it reincarnated itself. How does that even happen?” 

“You sound like Ominis,” he moaned, rolling his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to begin mastering the dark arts. It’s merely educational. Isn’t it just brilliant, though? Slytherin truly was a master of magic. Of course he would enchant his books against destruction. It’s genius!” 

MC sighed and shook her head. “I feel like I should enchant you against destruction,” she muttered, removing her cloak and dropping it onto the bed. 

His smirk at her words faded as he watched her open her bag and take out a hair brush, loosening her braid so that she could smooth out her hair. She was making herself comfortable in his space, and that was a promising sign. Perhaps she would stay in here with him rather than return to her own tent within the camp. He certainly had no objections to that. 

“How do you feel after absorbing the deposit?” He asked, admiring the way her hair shone like silk in the glow of the lamp. 

Her hands stilled and she bit her lip, her eyes sheepish as they swung towards him. “I have a confession to make,” she said, twisting the brush in her hands. “I didn’t actually absorb the magic deposit.” 

His eyes widened. “Why in Merlin’s name not? Was that not the plan?” 

Her mouth tightened. “It’s Rookwood’s plan. I found that once I was there, I didn’t want to take that magic into myself. Like you said, it couldn’t be filled with much good considering the circumstances of how it came to be. Much like Isadora’s huge repository under Hogwarts, it seemed to seethe with darkness. I don’t want that inside of me, Seb, even more so when it was so personally connected to us both. I figured we have enough darkness between the two of us already.”

“So, it’s still down there?” He frowned at the thought. What if another like MC came along and discovered it? 

“Not exactly,” she said, dropping the hair brush onto the bed. “I moved it.” 

He watched as she slipped a shiny phial from her pocket and held it up. “It’s in here,” she said, giving it a wiggle. “This is a flask made of goblin silver. It was a gift from Professor Fig. It belonged to his wife. Through my conversations with Lodgok, I learned a great deal about how ancient magic and goblin silver can work together. So, rather than absorb the magic into myself, I will store it inside this until I have decided what to do with it. Of course, much like Slytherin’s book, nobody else can know about this.” 

“You have my word,” he said, stepping closer to admire the silver flask. 

“I mean it,” she said, her face firm. “This is strictly between us. I don’t even want the Ministry to know about this. Our little secret.” 

He met her gaze, his fingertips reaching to touch against the silver chain at her neck. It felt like bonds were strengthening between them, she was gradually becoming closer, and it warmed him. “Our little secret,” he whispered. “I cannot help but wonder, though, sweetheart. Why not just absorb it into yourself? Surely that would be much safer than risking this flask falling into the wrong hands.” 

“Even if someone did get their hands on this, they wouldn’t know what was inside unless they were a vessel of ancient magic,” she said, smoothing her thumb over the pretty silver. “I’m the only one who can see it, so to anyone else, it’s just a lovely trinket. As for not absorbing it myself, I’m not sure I want it, Sebastian. It’s already such a burden to carry, and it is becoming all that anyone sees when they look at me. The girl with all the power. Do I really need any more of it?”

Her eyes were dark and fathomless, pools you could get lost in. They truly were a pair of lost souls in the dark, but she was beginning to trust him again. He stroked back her hair, his fingers sliding through the silky softness. As he pressed a kiss to her forehead, she closed her eyes. “That's not all I see,” he murmured. “We will keep the magic safe until all this is over. After that, we will have the rest of our lives to figure out the rest.” 

As she was about to lean into him, a commotion sounded from outside the tent, raised voices and the thudding of feet. They exchanged a quick glance of curiosity before he swiftly conjured the book into a hidden pocket. MC did the same with her goblin flask and they withdrew their wands. 

“Is the camp under attack?” She asked as they hurried for the exit. 

“It could well be,” he replied, adrenaline already beginning to spike as he paused to lift the door flap. He gave her a look. “If it’s Aurors, then let’s hope this doesn’t blow your cover. That article in the Daily Prophet about you was rather damning.” 

“They wouldn’t risk it,” she said, shaking her head. “The only one in contact with me is Leander, and he wouldn’t do anything like this without telling me first.” 

Sebastian arched one eyebrow. “Such faith you have in him,” he muttered sourly. 

“Let’s just see what’s going on out there, shall we?” She snipped, jabbing her wand towards the entrance. 

The sun was descending behind the peaks of the mountains as they emerged from the tent. A few Ashwinders were gathered at the campfire, heads bent in discussion. The rest of the camp appeared quiet, no sign of the camp leader, and Sebastian turned his attention towards Rookwood’s tent. The lamps outside were lit, and Ashwinders were entering. He whistled to catch the attention of the nearby camp members. “What’s happening?” 

The taller of the two turned, his gaze lingering on MC. “A raid down at Dover, apparently. Lulu turned up all battle worn, spitting fury. She’s in with the boss man as we speak,” he said, aiming his thumb towards Rookwood’s tent. 

“Dover?” Sebastian frowned. “What kind of raid?” 

“They found the tunnel stores. Whole place was crawling with the bastards. The fight was bad, think we lost a few,” he grunted. Then his eyes gleamed as a wicked grin curved his mouth. “Got ourselves a couple of captives, though. Should make for a bit of sport.” 

MC visibly stiffened beside him, and Sebastian felt a chilling realisation trickle down his spine. Keeping his gaze on the Ashwinder, he nodded. “Sounds like there are stories to be shared,” he said smoothly. “I will check in with Rookwood in a moment.” 

The Ashwinder merely shrugged and turned back to his companion. Before another word could be uttered, he clamped his hand around MC’s wrist and Apparated them both a short distance away into the trees. As they landed onto a thick carpet of leaves, she gasped, stumbling slightly. 

“I wish you would bloody warn me before you do that,” she snapped, brushing the loose curtain of hair back from her face. 

He didn’t want to believe that this warmth she had been showing him was an act of trickery, but the nagging suspicion clung like ice claws to the back of his neck, the dark shadows of his insecurities crowded his head and obliterated all else. The shadows were lengthening, dusk already claiming the darkness under the trees as though in sympathy with him. He watched her carefully, his body tense. 

“Tell me it wasn’t you,” he asked slowly. 

She frowned. “What do you mean?” 

He huffed and began to pace, pushing his hand through his hair. “I’m not sure how you would do it, though, that’s the problem. I mean, you have been with me the whole time.” He turned his gaze back onto her. “It’s just funny how we have a little conversation about the tunnels down at Dover, and now the place is crawling with Aurors. Is it a coincidence, MC? Or was that your word they acted on?” 

She went very still, her face closing off into that cold way she had when she felt threatened. “Even if it was by my word, aren’t we on the same side here? You make it sound like the raid was a personal attack on you.” 

“I don’t care about the damned raid,” he said, stepping towards her. “I’m more interested in the idea of you using me to gain information on the sly. How would you even get that message to Prewett so fast? You have no owl to hand, and you haven’t left my side. Is he nearby? Is he following us?” 

“It sounds like you don’t trust me, Sebastian,” she said, her jaw tightening. 

“I want to,” he said, his voice pained. Those cold fingers of fear tickled at his neck. “If you want information, you only have to ask. I am on your side. If you were going to pass anything on to the Aurors, why can’t you tell me?” 

Her eyes dipped away, her head bowing slightly, and that curdling jealousy twisted thickly in his gut. “It’s because it's him, isn’t it? Whatever secret thing you have going on with Prewett, you don’t want me involved.” 

“You already know I am his informant, Sebastian,” she sighed. “Why is it such a surprise that I would tell him things? We all want the same outcome here. Isn’t that the priority?” 

He began to pace again, thinking fast. Pushing back the encroaching darkness that waited in the wings of his head, he tried to focus on the raid, and the implications of it. Above all else, their self preservation came first. If the Aurors were tortured, or worse, cast upon with Imperio, then their cover would be blown.

“Do you think Prewett would have gone to the tunnels?” He huffed a bitter laugh and shook his head. “Wait, of course he would go. He can’t help himself.” 

“Wait, what are you suggesting?” Her face paled and she turned her gaze back towards the glow of the camp fires through the trees. She shook her head, fear in her eyes. “No, no…” 

“I hate to say it, but I doubt Prewett is one of the captives,” he said begrudgingly. If there was one thing he could credit to the man, it was his ability to hold his own in a duel. He would never tell the proud Gryffindor, but he had been one his toughest opponents growing up. All the more reason to bait him all the time. “Whoever it is, they are a risk to you, and what we are doing here.”

“Where would they take captives? That holding tent where Rookwood had that lad beaten?” 

Sebastian sighed and nodded. “Most likely.” 

He blinked, and she was gone, the crack of her Disapparating a sharp echo under the trees. He stared at the spot where she had been standing mere seconds ago, his gut twisting sharply. “Fuck,” he swore, gritting his teeth. 

MC

Her pulse seemed to throb in her ears as panic restricted her throat, but she kept her steps calm and deliberate as she stalked down the side of the tent where she had witnessed the punishment of that Ashwinder lad. Peering around the corner, she saw two guards at the entrance, and assessed her options. She merely wanted to look. She just wanted to know if it really was Leander inside the tent. If so, her actions had put him there. 

Thinking of the violence with which the Executioner had treated one of their own in punishment, it made her shudder to imagine what they would do to two Aurors. Even if it turned out not to be Leander, could she allow such a thing to take place? In order to maintain her cover, she might have to, and she didn’t think she would be able to stomach it. 

Perhaps walking boldly up to the guards and asking for admittance would be enough. She was very powerful after all, Rookwood’s little pet. Or perhaps a swift Petrificus Totalus would be in order. Either way, she had to know who was in the tent. 

As she was about to step out, a hand clamped over her mouth and she was yanked backwards. Her muffled squeal was silenced as Sebastian fixed his pointed glare up close to her face, his brows drawn down in temper. 

“What do you think you are doing?” He hissed. “Are you trying to get us in the shit, or what?” 

She struggled against his grip, but he held her firm. She glared at him, hoping her eyes would singe his stupid face. Just when she thought things between them could reach an even keel, he had managed to piss her off yet again, throwing around his over protective jealousy. In her efforts to wriggle free, his hand slipped a little and she managed to open her mouth enough to give him a sharp nip with her teeth. 

“Ah, you little bitch,” he hissed, shaking his hand. “You bit me!” 

“You want to treat me like an animal, then expect to get bitten when you corner me,” she said, her words a harsh whisper. “Don’t grab me like that again!” 

“If you go in there and do anything to help those captives, the game is up, MC,” he insisted, taking hold of her shoulders, his face firm. 

He was right, but she kept her head up, determination making her rigid under his hands. “I’m not stupid, Sebastian. I know there are risks, but…” She wavered, swallowing past the tightness in her throat. “I need to know if he is in there. I can’t just stand by and do nothing and let them hurt him.” 

Sebastian dipped his head, frustration coming from him in waves. “Fine,” he hissed, and began to drag her away towards the rear of the tent. “Then we check it out first, but out of sight. This way.” 

He dragged her around to the rear of the tent and dropped to the ground, loosening a tent peg just enough to pull the fabric up. He nodded to the flattened grass before him. “I’ll hold it up, you get down and have a peek.” 

She dropped to her knees and pressed her cheek to the cool grass, a faint glow from a torch appearing under the flap of fabric. She squinted against the light after the dimness outside, her eyes adjusting. Her gaze swept the tent, and then she tensed when she spotted the two figures sitting on the dirt flooring, tied back to back against a post with rope. One of them was a petite, blonde girl, no more than twenty, her head hanging low against her chest. The other was a very familiar, tall red head, covered in blood, his body limp and apparently unconscious. Tears burned her eyes as she pushed herself upright, a hollow opening up in her chest. 

“It’s him,” she said, the words not much more than a whimper. “Gods, it’s him.” 

She met Sebastian’s eyes, not even bothering to swipe away the tear that rolled down her cheek. The hardness she saw in Sebastian’s eyes filled her with a sense of foreboding, but then he sighed, his shoulders dropping. A look of determination came into his gaze, a spark of hope flaring in her chest. 

“Alright,” he said, spinning his wand artfully in his fingers. He met her gaze. “I guess this is where I prove that I will do literally anything for you, MC. We need a plan.” 

To be continued...

Ivy Montgomery is an OC belonging to @eternalremorse and used with her kind permission.

Taglist: @slytherin-paramour @writing-intheundercroft @marketfreshfics @evaslytherpuff @sevprince-91 @loving-him-was-red13 @lucy-withthediamonds-inthesky

[choccy-milky]

read the room, garreth (from the newest chap of my fic! ao3 / wattpad)

[marketfreshfics]

Beautiful boys, begging.

General NSFW implied (MDNI) \\ title track images: @newbienewness & @starrysallow 🤍

Sebastian:

Ominis:

Garreth:

Leander:

Bonus: Tom Riddle