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terra-esperra · 2 years ago

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I Didn’t Know How Much I Wanted You

OminisxSebastianXF!MC FLUFF. Family. F/M/M. Hurt/Comfort. Mild suggestiveness.

Ominis and Sebastian's wife has a surprise instore for them, and it's bigger than any of them could have imagined.

Sequel I Will Always Want You pt 1 Coming Soon I Will Always Want You pt 2

…:::•°✾°•:::……:::•°✾°•:::……:::•°✾°•:::…

Ominis could feel tension in the air around her. She was currently in the kitchen preparing their dinner for the evening while they waited for Sebastian to come home from work.

He had tried asking her if there was anything wrong, or if he could help her with anything, but she would only deny him.

“I’m fine Ominis, I promise,” she would say. But he could smell the smallest whiff of copper, from the blood undoubtedly coming from her biting her lip. A bad habit of hers that she developed when she was nervous or trying to hide something from her husbands.

It hurt him to believe that she was hiding something from him.

He chose to let it go though, and wait for Sebastian to get home to discuss it with him before possibly confronting her. Just because they were married did not mean that he wanted to pry into everything she does. But her tendency to rush ahead into situations first and think of the consequences later is obviously concerning to him.

He just hoped that whatever it was, they would all be able to sort it out. The three of them.

He sat at his desk as he failed to focus on his manuscript. Instead, he concentrated on the sounds of her working in the kitchen. Too consumed with his cloud of stress to continue to work.

“Wow! Something smells amazing!”

Ominis heard the voice of his husband coming home. He went to their wife first, Ominis could hear him giving her a kiss before asking how her day was. Her response was simply that dinner is just about done. The tension was getting stronger, Ominis felt like he was choking. He was so immersed in his own thoughts he didn’t notice Sebastian coming up to him. Not until he felt the strong hand of his husband grabbing his chin, lifting his head up for a searing kiss. Ominis sighed into Sebastian’s mouth, some of his stress alleviated by the feel of Sebastian’s lips upon his.

“What’s going on?” Sebastian whispered against Ominis’ lips after he released him.

Ominis shook his head, brows forward in concern and frustration. “I do not know,” he whispered back, “She won’t tell me anything. Every time I would ask her what was wrong, she would only say nothing and that she was fine. I do believe she’s hiding something.”

Sebastian gave a grunt of agreement.

“She’s been biting her lip again.” Sebastian said. Ominis could tell by the direction of his voice he was now looking towards her back in the kitchen.

“I know.”

Before they could continue, her voice called from the kitchen, letting them know dinner was ready.

Sebastian reached down to grab Ominis’ hand and they walked together to meet their wife at the table. Plates were already prepared for them and waiting for them as they sat down.

Sebastian wasn’t going to take it anymore. “Alright, darling,” Sebastian started, “What is-“

“I’m pregnant.”

Her voice was so soft as she cut Sebastian off that Ominis almost missed it. He felt the air exit his lungs and did not return. That certainly was not one of the possibilities he had thought of, or even would have thought of. Sebastian was just as silent next to him. The fork in his hand dropped to the floor with a loud chime.

Ominis could hear her sniffling. He could smell her tears.

Before his brain could fully process what she told them for him to react, he heard Sebastian shot up from his chair and rush to her. Ominis then could hear the beautiful sound of Sebastian’s laughter and her surprised shriek has he pick her up and spun her all around the room.

Sebastian held their wife’s face in his hands, and he poured all the love he had into a kiss for her, attempting to silence all her doubt her aura gave off.

“Why are you crying Darling?” Sebastian asked as he pulled away, using his thumbs to wipe the tears away from her cheek.

Before she could even answer, Ominis had made his way over to them and pulled her away from Sebastian so he could show her his love as well.

“Is this why you were on edge all day? Did you think we would reject you?” Ominis held her close with his arms around her lower back, his head bent down to rest his forehead against hers. Sebastian moved to be behind her, his arm coming around to embrace the front of her shoulders, while his other wrapped around both his husband and wife to Ominis’ lower back. He sighed in content as he rested his head on top of hers. The love was overflowing.

“N-no,” she cried softly, as she tucked herself under Ominis’ chin and snuggled into him. Tears still continuing down her face despite the boys' comforts. “I just wasn’t sure how the two of you would react. We never really discussed anything like this yet.”

She let out a soft moan when she felt Sebastian bring his head down to kiss and nibble the side of her neck, working on recreating a bruise that had just healed.

“Love, we are together every single night,” his hand making its way down the front of her, brushing against Ominis’ hardening bulge before he started to pull up the skirt of her dress to make access to her heat, “this was an inevitable outcome.”

Her breath hitched in that back of throat as Sebastian’s fingers started to work their magic. Ominis pulled back enough to push his lips upon hers, devouring her moans.

“Ominis, I think she deserves a reward for being such a good little wife, don’t you?” Sebastian whispered from her neck. He knew that tone.

Ominis gave her bottom lip a little nip before answering him, “I do believe you’re right. Come now love.” The two men pulled her into the bedroom.

Dinner was left cold and forgotten.

___

Hours later, his two lovers were fast asleep after their passions, but Ominis laid awake. His fingers tracing lazy patterns on his wife’s stomach, thinking of the life that was growing under her skin. The initial joy of the announcement now was replaced with fear.

“Ominis? Why are you still awake?” He heard Sebastian whisper as he felt his husband weave his fingers into his. They rested their combined hands along her stomach. “You have that look on your face, what is wrong?”

Ominis could hear the concern in Sebastian’s voice, but he was terrified to speak his troubled thoughts out loud.

“Who’s do you think it is?”

“Pardon?”

Ominis felt horrible for even thinking this. “Sebastian, I hope it’s yours. I hope that it's your child that grows within her. I don’t want her giving birth to a Gaunt.”

Sebastian took a sharp inhale of air, shock at what the beautiful man in front of him was saying. “Ominis-”

“I can understand if you’re upset. I know I sound cruel. But I do not want to contribute to the Gaunt line. It’s a family tree that is filled with only pain and terror. I couldn’t bear to continue that line.” The pain of his childhood and the hatred he has for his family was written all over his face for Sebastian to read.

“Ominis…”

“I really don’t want to talk more of this right now. Go bad to sleep Sebastian.”

Sebastian watched as Ominis closed his eyes and snuggled back into the other side of their wife.

“Ominis, we love you. This child is a product of our love for each other. No matter who ‘father’ the child, we will love them and protect them.”

If Ominis heard him, he didn’t give any indication that he did. Sebastian let out a troubled huff before he nestled back into bed himself. He continued to hold Ominis’ hand as he nuzzled his face into his wife’s hair. He was grateful she was not awake to hear Ominis’ confession. He would have to speak to Ominis again about this. Maybe in the morning, or maybe in a couple days. Hopefully he’d come around on his own. Sebastian was aware of the disdain Ominis felt for his family, but he was not going to allow him to let that spread to self-hatred. Not to the point that Ominis would not want to sire any of their children. For now, though, he let sleep take him.

Sebastian was fast asleep by the time a single tear ran now their wife’s face.

___

-months later-

Ominis was the first one to wake up to her painful moans. It had become a common occurrence in the last couple weeks. Their darling’s due date was steadily approaching, and she was becoming increasingly more uncomfortable in her own body as the babe was taking up so much space. She currently was laying on her side facing Sebastian, who started to wake up as well from her discomfortable groans. Ominis felt Sebastian starting to run his hand up and down her arms, trying to give her some comfort. Ominis meanwhile, was laying behind her. This gave him easy access to rub at her lower back. Unfortunately, judging by the sounds coming from her, their attempts to give her some relief were futile.

“Seb, I need to get up.”

The pain in her voice broke Ominis’ heart. He felt useless in this situation. Next thing he knew, the bed had shifted as his husband helped her out of the bed. Ominis sat up and tried to just listen, wondering how he could help them. Ominis could hear her hiss in agony as her feet touched the floor.

“Easy love, I have you. Just lean on me, okay.” Sebastian spoke softly to her, his voice laced with exhaustion. Though he dares not complain, nor would he. Ominis and he never paid any mind that they would spend sleepless nights awake with her as their child grew within her.

“Wa-Wait,” she took a sharp intake of air before another moan of distress left her lips.

“Darling?!” Sebastian cried out as she fell to her knees in pain. One of her hands ripped away from him and held her large belly. Ominis almost wanted to place his hands over his ears to muffle the wail that came from her. Next thing he heard was a splashing sound, like someone had poured water onto the ground.

“Fuck,” She let out faintly, “Boys, the baby is coming.”

“Like right now?” Ominis was not encouraged by the panic in Sebastian’s voice.

She continued to groan in pain, from what Ominis could only assume was from an additional contraction she was having. “Well, not right this second, but pretty soon my love,” another wave on pain consumed her, “Now if you be a dear and send an owl to your sister and Professor Weasley that would be absolutely wonderful, love.”

The relation smacked Sebastian in the face. “Oh right. Right!” He exclaimed as he ran out of the room to prepare an owl.

Ominis was right there in front of her as soon as her dark hair husband ran out in excitement. She signed as she leaned into Ominis’ chest, grateful for the support again. “Ominis, could you prepare a bath for me. A nice warm one, please.”

He planted a kiss on her forehead as he helped her up. “Anything for you my little dove.”

___

She has been screaming for hours now. Anne and Professor Weasley had arrived very quickly after Sebastian had sent the owl out. Both women were asked weeks ago to help with the birth. Their wife wanted to have a home birth rather than going to St. Mungos. Her husbands were nervous about not having a doctor with her for her first delivery, but Anne had been in medical studies since graduation. Additionally, Professor Weasley had all her own children at home, not to mention helped with all her grandchildren’s births as well. She had assured both nervous dads-to-be that everything would be just fine.

Anne had come out of the bedroom a couple of times to the living room where the boys waited for their child to come into the world, giving them updates. She reaffirmed that everything was going normally, and despite the screaming coming from their wife, she was handling everything well.

Nothing Anne could say would ease Ominis and Sebastian’s stress though, not until their child was born and their wife was no longer in pain.

It was nearly dawn when they heard a wail of a baby, taking its first breaths of the world. Ominis could hear the girls laughing in joy mixed in with the child’s cries. Hearing her tear-filled laughter was a welcome change from all the pain.

Sebastian and Ominis waited impatiently on their feet for someone to come out of the bedroom. Finally, after only a few minutes, but what felt like hours, Anne came out of the bedroom. In her arms, a small bundle wrapped up in a blue blanket.

Ominis could hear the joy in Sebastian gasp. Letting his husband take the baby from his sister first, Ominis walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“He looks just like you Sebastian. He might have her nose,” Anne gave an emotional giggle, “But he’s definitely a Sallow.” She said as she carefully placed the child in Sebastian’s arms. Sebastian wasn’t sure when he started crying, but he barely noticed the tears as he glanced down at his son. Their son.

“Ominis,” He turned from his sister to his blonde love behind him, “We have a son.”

Ominis could only smile as he caressed the new baby’s head. He didn’t know he could ever be this happy.

The beautiful moment was interrupted by the scream from their wife.

“Ms. Sallow, get back in here. Appears there’s anything one!” Anne did not waste another movement and ran back to the bedroom.

“What?!” The husbands howled, causing their son to start bawling again. Sebastian brought the child closer and higher to his chest. Instinctually hushing and rocking the child, trying to calm their baby along with his own nerves.

“Twins?” Ominis whispered, turning towards the sounds of Sebastian next to him.

“I’ve heard it could be hereditary, and her stomach was rather big… but I never thought…,” Sebastian trailed off.

Ominis knew this could change everything. Twins brought a whole new risk to the birth. His legs felt weak as he fell onto the couch. He brought his fist to rest against his mouth. Hoping and praying that the second baby would be born without trouble, and his wife’s cries would finally end.

It was only two minutes later the sounds of the second child entering the world filled the home. But Ominis ears did not pick up the cheerful laughter the first child brought to the room upon his birth. Instead, he heard shock filled gasps. He didn’t hear anything else from the other two women in the room, but he did hear his wife’s crying as she try to hush the additional child.

He felt his heart sink to stomach. Could something be wrong with the baby?

Anne had softly opened and closed the door behind her as she approached her brother again.

“What is wrong?” Panic filled Sebastian’s voice.

Anne petted the small head of the little boy in his arms. “Nothing is wrong, but she does want to see you. Give your son to his other father and come with me.”

“What is going on?” Ominis stood up in alarm. He was perplexed why their wife would only wish to see Sebastian.

Anne sighed before taking the baby from Sebastian, nodding her head in the direction to the bedroom. Sebastian hurried in there while Anne came over to hand the boy to Ominis.

Ominis’ emotions where all over the place. He wasn’t sure if he was even fit to hold the infant.

“I don’t… I don’t know how,” the fear was written all over his face, “I don’t want to hurt him.”

“You can’t hurt what you love. Now bring your arms out…yes, just like that,” she helped him curled his arms around his son. She gently grabbed his hand and positioned it to support the baby’s head. She guided him to sit back down on the couch.

“See,” he scoffed at her remark, “Oh you know what I mean. He’s perfectly at ease in your arms. He’s already falling back to sleep.”

Ominis let a small smile while he tried to focus on his son, and not the continued sobs from his wife in the bedroom as Sebastian tried to console her.

“Anne, what is wrong with the second baby,” his stomach was turning, and he felt like he was going to be sick.

“Nothing is wrong with the baby, Omi.” Her voice was not convincing. He held the one in his arms a bit closer.

He was nervous about being a father, but the very thought of anything happening to either of the newborns made his heart want to break.

Just as he was getting comfortable with the boy in his arms, Sebastian finally came out of the bedroom and made his way over to Ominis. His husband took a deep breath before a heavy sigh left his lips. Ominis could hear him running a hand through his hair as he bent down in front of him. Sebastian ran his hands up and down along the sides of Ominis’ thighs before bringing them to a rest on top and gave a comforting grip.

“What is it?” Ominis still did not believe there was nothing wrong with their additional child, based on how his husband and sister-in-law were acting.

Sebastian let out another sigh. He gave Ominis thigh a firm squeeze before starting.

“This is nothing wrong with her, Ominis,” Sebastian said with much emotion, “She is completely healthy, just like her brother. All ten fingers and toes. And a strong pair of lungs.”

“Her? A daughter?”

“Mhmm, she’s perfect.” The smile shined through his voice.

“Then why did our little dove only ask for you, and why is she still crying.” The hurt and confusion were getting too much for him to bear.

He waited for Sebastian to respond. He could tell that his love was trying to find the right words and it was tearing him apart.

“Because Ominis…” Sebastian paused to place a hand on their son’s head, who was sound asleep in Ominis’ arms, “Our son is definitely from my seed. Had he not come from our wife, it would be hard to say he’s even hers. He does have her nose like Anne said, and I pray he will have her beautiful eyes. Besides that, he has my hair, my ears, my chin, my everything. I’m willing to bet the house he’ll have freckles when he gets older as well,” Sebastian explained, making Ominis chuckle at the end.

“Our daughter, though,” Sebastian continued, “has very light hair. She has paler, fairer skin than her brother. She has a faint constellation of beauty marks on the side of her face, just like her father.”

Ominis felt all the air leave his lungs.

“In fact, she is a copy of her father, much like our son is a copy of me,” the hand that still rested against Ominis thigh tighten again, “Our son might’ve come from me, but our daughter came from you Ominis.”

Ominis barely felt the tears streaming down his face in his shock. He barely was able to process anything at all after what Sebastian just told him.

The next thing he knew, Sebastian placed his lips on his. The kiss bringing him back to his husband from wherever his mind had taken him to. Sebastian pulled away before Ominis was able to return the kiss but returned to nuzzle his forehead to his.

“She overheard us that night Ominis. She knows that you did not want to father any of our children. She’s afraid you will reject our daughter. She thinks you will be disappointed.”

Ominis couldn’t control the sobs as his heart shattered. He never wanted his pain to be their pain. Ominis shifted to rub his face in Sebastian’s chest as the man’s arms embraced him.

“I know that night you spoke about your doubts and fears. That you’re afraid of your family’s line. But my love,” Sebastian broke the embrace and brought his hands up to hold Ominis face, “that is absolutely an absurd notion.”

Ominis could feel the pain and love in his voice. He never thought he would ever be the one to create such anguish to the greatest treasures of his life.

“When I asked the both of you to marry me, for us to all be one together, and you accepted my hand and my name, you became a Sallow. Your last name is no longer Gaunt. You are a Sallow. Our wife, our son, and now our daughter as well, we are all Sallow together. We are your family now, Ominis, not them.

“The Gaunt’s do not a hold on you anymore. They will not have any part in our children’s lives. And IF they happened to find out about our daughter and try any of their dark wizardry bullshit, we will set their whole world aflame to protect her.” Sebastian tries to reassure him.

Ominis’ tears were a steady river flowing down his face as he tried to control his sobs. There were too many strong emotions raging around inside for him to handle all at once.

“Are you really going to regret her?” Sebastian didn’t hide the anguish and fear in his voice as he moved his head back to Ominis’.

“NO!” Ominis sobbed, cradling his son just a bit tighter. “N-no, of course not.” He gave up trying to control his tears. Ominis felt Sebastian nod against his forehead.

“I know, I know,” Ominis felt a kiss on top of his hair, “but our wife needs your support right now. Her emotions are uncontrollable- understandably so. All she can think right now is that you do not want the child currently in her arms.”

Ominis was speechless. What could he even say in response to that. He could only nod in agreement to go to their wife.

“Here, take our son.” Ominis stood and gave the infant back to Sebastian before making his way to their bedroom.

He was just about to enter when he heard someone else coming out. Professor Weasley made her way in front him, reaching to hold his hands into hers. “We just finished cleaning up. Though I’m afraid your sensitive nose will still pick up traces of blood, do not be alarmed by that. Your wife is comfortable and with your daughter.” She gave his arms a reassuring squeeze. “Congratulations. Anne and I will see ourselves out.”

Ominis thanked the professor before making his way around her towards the bedroom. He opened the door and walked in without knocking. His heart was breaking all over again at the sound of her sniffling.

“My love,” Ominis softly called out to her. His hand found her legs, running his fingers up her body until he was able to grasp her face, which was damp from her tears.

“I’m sorry O-Ominis.” She was shaking in his hand.

“No, no. None of that.” He hushed her as he brought her head to his chest and held her as tight as he could, minding the baby in her arms. He wanted to meet his daughter properly, but his wife needed his support first. “I am the one who is sorry, my love. My ignorance and foolish beliefs have affected you with such doubts. This was never my intention.”

He bent down to bring his face to hers. “I love you. So very much. Any child created with you between Sebastian and I is a pure blessing. I’m so sorry that I failed to see that in the beginning.” His hand left her face to lightly pat his daughter’s head. He smiled at the touch of her soft hair. “Can I hold her?”

She whimpered out a yes, her tears starting to dry up. His wife lifted their new daughter into his arms. He gently took the small girl in his embrace, more confident with her than he was when he first held her brother. Ominis held his breath as he held his daughter carefully in his arms for a moment. He listened intently to the cute baby noises she was making. After a minute, he felt comfortable enough to support her body and head with his chest and one arm, freeing his other hand to lightly trace the shape of her face. He took his time, memorizing every curve and feature. To his pleasant surprise, he felt her little hand grab ahold of his finger and held on.

A mix of a sob and a laugh escaped his throat. He brought her up closer to his face and nuzzled his nose with hers.

“Hello little one,” he greeted her with a chuckle through his tears that started to leak from his eyes again, “forgive your foolish father. I didn’t know how much I wanted you.” He could hear his wife crying again. “You and your brother are going to be so overwhelmed with love. I would apologize if I was sorry, but I am not. I hope you never get tired of it.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head before returning to his wife’s side, sitting down next to her on their large bed.

He kept their daughter in one arm, using his free arm to bring her head to rest on his shoulder in his embrace.

“She is prefect.”

His love laughed and nodded into neck. “Are you positive you’re not disappointed.”

“I will spend the rest of my life regretting those dark thoughts for ever coming into my mind. I love her, darling. I love our daughter, I love our son, so much so already. I love you so much. Thank you for bringing them into the world. You are so strong.”

She giggled to him; it was music to his ears. “What about Sebastian?”

He chuckled, “he can have what little love I have spared after the three of you.”

“I’m right here you know.” He heard his husband from the doorway.

“Sebastian,” his wife reached out to him, “come over here. Let us be a family together.”

Family. The three of them have been a family together for years now. But now with the twins, that word has a greater weight to it. And Ominis embraced it wholeheartedly.

Ominis felt the weight of the bed shift with the addition of his husband on the other side of their wife. She took their son from Sebastian, cradling him to her side and she turned back to face Ominis as she laid down. Sebastian curled himself around her back side with his arm coming around to rest on Ominis. Ominis himself sunk down to lay next to her, bringing their daughter to lay next to her brother while still being in his arms.

“Ominis, they can’t sleep with us. We’ll have to move them to the bassinet.”

“I know,” he whispered, not wanting to disturb them, “Just a couple more minutes. I like feeling them near. The two of you can rest, I’ll move them when I ready.”

Her smile couldn’t get any bigger. She raised her head to give him a loving kiss. When she let him go, she turned to Sebastian and gave him a kiss as well. “I love you so much,” she spoke to both of them before shutting her eyes. She would deny sleep no longer.

“And we love you, so much.” Sebastian responded, rubbing his face in her neck before falling asleep.

Ominis almost felt too overwhelmed. The love he had for them and the love he felt returned was more then he could ever hope for growing up. He’s not sure what he ever did to deserve them, but he vowed he would forever be grateful and try to be the best father and husband he could be for them.

“I love all of you. Thank you.”

_______

Yes, it is possible for twins to have different fathers. its called heteropaternal superfecundation. It's very rare, but very possible.

#Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow/Original Female Character #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x mc #polyamory #hogwarts legacy

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sunnyrealist · 1 month ago

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Chapter 65: Irises and Yellow Roses

The Sun, the Moon, and All Our Stars

Summary and Details…

Previous Chapter Recap/Context: Everyone has left the Three Broomsticks to give Sebastian and Ominis some privacy to catch up on their own. Ominis explained how he and Anne fell in love, what their marriage was like, and how her health greatly improved over the years. He then recounted the events preceding her sudden death. Anne had become determined to have children to continue the Sallow family line; she didn't wish for it to end in tragedy. Deliberately going against Ominis' wishes, she stopped taking her contraceptive potion on purpose, which resulted in pregnancy. Close to the twins' due date, Anne had a random bout of illness, but they considered it fairly normal and unconcerning, based on her symptoms, and she stubbornly refused to see a Healer. The next morning, Ominis woke up to find her dead beside him. In this chapter, Ominis continues the story and later, Sebastian returns home.

Pairing: 25-year-old, post-Azkaban Sebastian Sallow x 24-year-old Kate Mayflower (my OC), the assistant librarian at Hogwarts

Art Credit: the very talented @giselsann-opencommissions 💛

Content warnings: In general, this is rated 18+, so minors should not read or interact with this story, but this chapter really has nothing I would consider triggering.

The full chapter is available below the cut; it can also be found on AO3 (link is posted below). Please leave some feedback if possible, especially if you like what you read! 🥰

Chapter 65: Irises and Yellow Roses

“Ominis…” Sebastian murmurs, noticing his watery eyes.

“The coroner said that Anne had… experienced a stroke. That she had likely been suffering from something called toxemia,” the blonde man continues somberly. “It supposedly happens to many pregnant women, especially to those pregnant with multiples, and is difficult to detect. We just… thought the symptoms were normal. We were so used to her having bouts of illness like that.” He pauses, wiping at his eyes. “We didn’t realize the severity.”

Sebastian works his jaw. He cannot fathom how something so… mundane could have finished her off, after all she had suffered through. Anne’s refusal to see a Healer was infuriating - and so like her, but he understands that they could never have imagined her suddenly dying overnight with those symptoms. Then, he considers Ominis’ experience.

Waking up to find the love of his life dead without warning.

Expecting to raise a family, only to end up completely alone.

All hopes and dreams dashed.

Sebastian doesn’t even know what to say. He sits quietly, lost in his own pain, as he watches his old friend, his brother-in-law, cry.

“I should have insisted she go to St. Mungo’s,” Ominis mumbles dejectedly. “I want to- to take it all back. Reverse it all. It… it hurts so badly. I’ve lost… everything.”

Carefully choosing his words, Sebastian finally replies, “I understand. My situation… was never the same as yours… but I understand the feeling.” He reaches out to place a handkerchief in Ominis’ hand. “It’s indescribably… horrific. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. For many years, I wasn’t even sure why I was alive… or that life was even worth living.”

Ominis uses the cloth to dry his cheeks.

“I know this may sound impossible to you right now,” Sebastian continues, “but… things can change. Your life isn’t over. Try to find a reason to go on. The future is… open. It doesn’t have to be miserable forever. Honor Anne…” He trails off, fearful he might only upset Ominis further. How would one even possibly provide comfort in this situation? Sebastian stares at the floor. “Ominis… I want you to know that you aren’t alone. We’re friends, and now, we’re family… I promise - I will help you in any way I can. It’s what Anne would have wanted.”

When Sebastian returns to the cottage that night, he’s exhausted.

Kate kindly left a few candles burning for him, and he stumbles towards the bedroom to find her sitting up and reading in bed by candlelight. Her eyes take him in as he wanders in wordlessly. He undresses slowly, and she waits patiently for him to join her.

Sebastian lets out a sigh as he settles, his head in Kate’s lap. She runs her fingers through his hair, silent for a long while.

Kissing the top of his head sweetly, her lips lingering, she whispers, “Would you like to talk about it?”

He shakes his head, no.

“That’s fine,” she soothingly murmurs. “Let’s go to sleep, love.”

They readjust, and for once, Kate spoons Sebastian. She can tell that he is attempting to hold back tears, but his emotions quickly consume him, and she can feel his stomach contracting as he sobs.

It breaks her heart, and she wishes she could take away whatever pain he’s experiencing. All she can do is hold him tight. This distress keeps her awake until she can hear him breathing deeply, finally asleep.

“I love you,” she whispers, even though he won’t hear.

Kate wakes early the next morning to the sound of Sebastian’s light snoring.

Wishing for him to get much more rest, Kate carefully slips away towards her side of the bed, placing a pillow where her body had been curled against him. She slowly lifts herself up, trying to keep the bed from creaking too loudly. She slips on her deep green, silken robe and gingerly pads across the room to escape into the hallway.

She decides to start breakfast, trying to determine what type of food might be best after last night’s excitement. Kate wonders if Sebastian may have a hangover; she determines that it would be best for him to have a hearty breakfast to soak up the alcohol and replenish his hunger.

When she is just about finished with cooking, she hears footsteps in the hallway. The sound disappears as he closes the bathroom door. Quickly, she plates everything and sets the table.

Sebastian finally wanders into the kitchen a few minutes later, yawning, donning only pyjama trousers. His eyes grow large when he sees that breakfast is completely ready.

“Good morning, darling,” Kate cheerily says in a sing-song voice.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he echoes in a somewhat groggy tone.

“Sit,” she offers, motioning towards the chair he usually takes. “I’ve made breakfast.”

Sebastian gladly plops down, surveying the offerings.

“I’ve made oatmeal with cinnamon, pecans, apples, and dried cranberries,” she explains. “Breakfast tea is ready. I’ve fried up some tomatoes and sausages. There’s also a bowl of fresh strawberries and blueberries - I’ve just washed them.” She smiles. “But if there is anything else you desire, just say the word. I mean to please you.”

“Gods, no. I already feel spoiled,” he answers gratefully. He lifts her hand, kissing it. “You’re… you’re bloody perfect, Kate. This is incredibly considerate. I love you so much.”

She giggles in response. “And I love you.”

As they tuck into the food, Kate is surprised to hear that Sebastian is not hungover.

He tells Kate everything about his private visit with Ominis. She listens avidly, asking several questions to which Sebastian does not yet know all of the answers.

When he reaches the part in which he and Ominis said goodbye, he hesitantly says, “I need to tell you something. I hope you aren’t angry with me that I’ve not given you much notice, but…” He looks into her blue eyes. “I invited Ominis over for dinner tonight.”

Kate slowly nods, and Sebastian immediately assumes that she is upset. He quickly adds, “You don’t have to cook. I can order a meal, cook something up myself, or just change the plans and go out to dinner in Hogsmeade. And I’ll do everything to prepare the cottage for the evening. Sorry… It’s just… When we went our separate ways, I didn’t feel like we had fully caught up.”

“It’s alright,” Kate replies. “I don’t mind hosting. I don’t mind cooking, either. But yes, you will need to help quite a lot. Perhaps you can help out a bit in the kitchen… and I’ll certainly need you to do some work around the house.” She pauses. “Next time, I would appreciate more notice, though.”

“Of course.” He kisses her cheek. “Thank you.”

Kate’s mind begins to run through the ingredients she has on hand and what might be impressive enough to make for a dinner guest. Knowing that Ominis is blind actually makes her a bit more nervous. She’s read before that when someone loses their eyesight, all other senses are heightened. This means her cooking will need to be especially flavorful. She will need to pull out all the stops.

Ultimately, Ominis will be her brother-in-law, and she aspires more than anything to win his friendship.

Nothing is more important to Kate than family, and Ominis is the only other remaining member of the Sallows. This dinner could hopefully solidify a renewed relationship between Sebastian and Ominis and encourage them to get together more frequently.

Sebastian needs that.

“Well, we’ll need to get to work right away,” Kate says decisively, standing up. “Come on, let’s get dressed.”

Sebastian pouts as he nuzzles his face between Kate’s soft breasts, barely covered by her thin robe. “Do we have to? Do you have to?”

“Sebastian.” She gives him a chastising look. “You’re the one that sprung this on me…”

“Oh, fine,” he mutters with a smirk, allowing himself to be helped up from the table.

The houseplants have all been watered, and windows are open to let in the fresh summer air. Sebastian has tidied up the living room and bathroom, and Kate has busied herself with baking a pie, using preserved apple pie filling. She places it near the window to cool.

“Sebastian!” she calls outside, “Will you be finished soon? I really need those vegetables.”

“Coming,” he shouts back.

Moments later, the front door swings open, and Sebastian enters, carrying a basket filled with freshly harvested vegetables.

“I could be wrong, but I didn’t think the peas looked ready yet,” he informs her. “But I have everything else you requested - the potatoes, carrots, and asparagus.”

“Alright.” She takes the basket from him, inspecting the garden’s yield.

Then, Sebastian reveals a bouquet of flowers he had been hiding behind his back. Kate gasps as she accepts the yellow roses and purple irises, inhaling their scent.

“Lovely,” Kate hums. “Just lovely.”

“I almost cut some of the peonies,” Sebastian mentions, “but these were also ready… and their symbolism… it’s meaningful for tonight.”

Kate nods. “Hmm… the irises… they’re…” Her nose scrunches. “I’m afraid I’ve forgotten. Let me take a look in my book.”

He stops her. “They symbolize hope, faith, and trust in friendship. And the yellow roses - they’re optimism and joy in friendship.”

Kate gives him a lopsided smile. “My clever Seb.”

She turns around, strolling into the kitchen to find a vase. He follows her like a puppy.

“The pie smells fantastic,” Sebastian murmurs as she fills a vase with water. “I wish I could steal a piece right now.”

Kate smiles, carefully arranging the flowers in the vase. “You’ll just have to wait, dear.”

He pulls her hips forward, places his hands on her arms, and leans in with a mischievous grin. “You know patience is not my strong suit.” He kisses her cheek and eyes her up and down. She’s wearing a darker yellow dress, a rather simple one, under a cream-colored, frilly smock. Her hair is half-up, half-down; delicate white flowers are woven into a braid secured around the back of her head. “You look very pretty.”

She goes pink, secretly delighted by the compliment. “I know Ominis can’t see, but I still want to at least look… decent.”

They kiss, and the scent of her floral perfume envelops him in its sweetness.

“You smell like a dream,” Sebastian whispers in her ear. “Flowers and honey… vanilla and cinnamon… so sweet.”

He picks her up, placing her on the counter and going in for more kisses. She gives in, and their lips move together languidly. After a minute, the kisses begin to feel more insistent, and Kate finally pulls back, giggling. She pushes him away playfully, sliding off to stand on her own two feet.

“Alright, Romeo. We have work to do,” she teases him, a smile tugging at her lips.

Kate puts Sebastian to work, asking him to wash the freshly harvested vegetables as she greases and flours a bread pan. She takes a cloth off the top of a bowl, revealing fragrant dough that had been left to rise, which she puts in the pan and then the oven.

Eventually, the two stand side by side to cut the carrots and potatoes. Laughter fills the kitchen as they take turns feeding each other small scraps.

Sebastian stares at Kate for a long time, his eyes filled with deep affection. “Kate…”

“What is it?”

“I… I’m so lucky,” he finishes. “Sometimes I really cannot believe I’m here with you…”

Kate smiles back at him. “You are. You’re home, my love.”

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian sallow x oc #post azkaban sebastian #hufflepuff x slytherin #aged up sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy oc #hl oc #hl sebastian #hogwarts legacy romance #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy original character #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy ominis #hl ominis #sallow family #the sallows #ominis sallow

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writingsoftarnishedsilver · 14 days ago

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The Solstice Ball | Sebastian Sallow x OC #11

If Bridgerton met Hogwarts Legacy.

Summary: Evangeline readies for the Solstice Ball with her friends' help, navigating nerves and feelings of uncertainty about her place in the pure-blood world. Though Lysander is polite and well-intentioned, hints of doubt and his family’s scrutiny weigh on her. During the ball, Ominis and an unexpectedly present Sebastian pull her for dances, giving her brief respite from the pressure and allowing Sebastian a chance to be close to her.

Words: 9,847

Tags: Slow Burn, Pure-blood Society, Courtship Traditions, Unspoken Feelings, Friends To Lovers, Jealousy, Romantic Tension, Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline

Natty, Cressida, and Nellie circled Evangeline, filling the sixth year girls’ dormitory was filled with laughter and soft chatter. They had been fussing over her dress, adjusting every detail, each one determined that she look absolutely perfect.

“I still can’t believe you’re going to the Solstice Ball,” Cressida said for the millionth time, securing a delicate silver pin in Evangeline’s hair. “It’s one of the biggest social events of the year. Just being invited is a huge deal.”

Evangeline managed a smile, but she couldn’t shake the nervous flutter in her chest. “It feels a bit overwhelming,” she admitted, her eyes drifting to her reflection.

The gown she wore was a rich, deep green that complimented her hazel eyes, its fabric cascading over her curves in a way that felt both elegant and daring. Silver threads wove intricate patterns along the neckline and sleeves, catching the candlelight and giving her an ethereal shimmer with every movement. Her dark hair had been carefully styled, loose waves framing her face while delicate silver pins held stray curls back, adding an almost regal touch to her appearance, but it still felt as though she were playing dress-up. “I know Lysander invited me weeks ago, but the pressure didn’t quite sink in until… well, now.” She glanced at herself in the mirror with a frown.

The Solstice Ball was a prestigious tradition, hosted annually by one of Britain’s 24 most esteemed pure-blood families, with the honour rotating each year. This time, the event was held by Lysander’s family, the Clearwaters, making Evangeline’s role as his date feel all the more significant—and daunting. Beyond its elegance, the ball served as a social stage for public declarations, courtship displays, and strategic family alliances—a rite of passage steeped in the unspoken expectations of pure-blood society.

“You seem nervous,” Natty observed, smoothing the hem of Evangeline’s gown. Her voice was gentle, sensing the weight her friend carried tonight. “You want to talk about it?”

“I am a bit, yes,” Evangeline admitted, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “It’s just that this is a... very official, very public event, I… I don’t know. It feels like more than just a date. It’s like a formal introduction to his world.” She paused, looking down. “It’s a lot to take in. I just keep wondering if I’ll even fit in.”

Nellie clucked her tongue, waving a hand dismissively. “Pure-blood, shmure-blood. Just because you didn’t grow up with all these formalities doesn’t mean you don’t belong there. Besides, you’ve already won over Lysander, haven’t you?”

Evangeline smiled, grateful for the vote of confidence. “Yes, I... it does seem so. And I’ve been enjoying our time together,” she admitted softly, though there was a hesitation in her voice. “He’s wonderful, truly. Kind, thoughtful… he’s always been such a gentleman.” She paused, pushing down the traitorous feeling of discontent that always seemed to creep in when she thought about her future with Lysander.

Her friends exchanged knowing looks, sensing there was more left unsaid, but let the moment pass without pressing.

They’re all going to be dazzled anyway,” Cressida added, giving her a reassuring pat. “Lysander’s family clearly respects him since they're allowing him to choose his date, so if he’s bringing you, they must know you’re important to him.”

Evangeline managed a soft smile, touched by her friends’ unwavering belief in her. “Thank you.”

“And besides,” Cressida added, fastening a silver chain around Evangeline’s neck, “Ominis will be there, right? He’s a Gaunt—pure-blood to the bone. So you’ll have someone familiar by your side who gets how intense these events can be.”

Evangeline laughed softly, her nerves settling a little. “Thank Merlin for Ominis. Just knowing he’ll be there makes it easier to face everyone else.”

Nellie finished the final touches of Evangeline’s makeup, her eyes bright with approval as she stepped back to admire their work. “There,” she said, nodding with satisfaction. “You’re going to stop hearts.”

Evangeline let out a nervous laugh, trying to quiet the flutter in her stomach as she took one last, steadying look in the mirror. She looked like she belonged at the Solstice Ball, like a girl crafted to fit seamlessly into this world of legacy and luxury. Yet, as she took in her reflection, a part of her felt undeniably out of place, as if she were wearing someone else’s life for the night. The layers of tradition, the weight of pure-blood expectations—all of it pressed down around her, a reminder of just how far her own past lay from this world’s storied halls and ancestral lineages. Still, for this night, with her friends’ help and encouragement, she would play her part.

Cressida gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze, a bright smile lighting up her face. “I’m so excited for you, Evie. You’ll be wonderful.”

Evangeline tried to hold onto her enthusiasm, but a thought, unbidden, flickered through her mind—a familiar face, a lopsided smirk, dark eyes catching hers in a crowded room. She was unable to stop herself from wondering what girl he’d spend the night with now that she and Ominis would both be otherwise occupied. The idea made her chest ache, but she scolded herself, forcing her attention back to the present. This night was a formal announcement of her courtship with Lysander, a milestone he’d asked her to be part of. Tonight, her focus belonged to him.

She took a steadying breath, shaking off the lingering thoughts of Sebastian, and turned to her friends, giving them her warmest smile. “Thank you—all of you. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.”

The three of them beamed back at her, each one offering a final round of encouragement and hugs before Natty gently guided her toward the door. “Now go,” she said with a grin. “And let us know everything tomorrow.”

Evangeline smiled, allowing herself to feel a surge of confidence as she stepped out of the dormitory, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nerves.

She descended the steps into the Gryffindor common room, her fingers trailing along the polished banister, as a hush fell over the room. Several students paused to look up, their curious gazes sweeping over her as she moved toward the portrait hole. A few offered murmurs of approval, and she caught one or two wide-eyed glances from her younger housemates. She gave them a small smile, hoping it looked more confident than she felt, and slipped through the portrait hole.

Waiting just outside was Lysander, who looked every inch the part of a pure-blood gentleman, his dark, tailored robes cut to fit his tall, lean frame perfectly. His gold-blonde hair was combed neatly back, and his bright blue eyes lit up with warmth as they landed on her. There was an undeniable charm to him, a confidence that seemed to belong naturally to someone born into this world of etiquette and expectations.

When his gaze landed on her, it softened, a faint blush creeping over his cheeks as his eyes roamed over her figure in admiration. He extended a hand to her, his fingers cool against hers as he drew her close, “You look lovely,�� he murmured, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

Evangeline’s cheeks warmed, and she squeezed his hand gently, offering him a smile. “Thank you, Lysander. You look wonderful, too,” she replied, trying to push aside the faint awareness of something that felt slightly… off. She knew she should feel more attracted to him; he was undeniably handsome, strikingly so, but there was a certain spark missing, a feeling she couldn’t quite summon, no matter how hard she tried. She told herself it was simply nerves.

He chuckled, glancing away as if to hide his own embarrassment, “I suppose I should make an effort, seeing as my family’s hosting,” he said with a slight shrug, though there was a touch of pride in his tone. But beneath his polite smile, she sensed a flicker of something more—a faint hesitation in his gaze as it moved over her;

Though he hid it quickly, Evangeline picked up on it, her smile faltering slightly. “Is... everything all right, Lysander?”

He hesitated, then nodded, his gaze briefly flickering away before he returned it to her. “Of course. I just… well, I want you to enjoy yourself tonight.” He paused, his smile fading slightly as his eyes softened. “You know, some of these families can be… very particular. Old-fashioned. I know it’s a bit much, and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

Evangeline’s brow furrowed slightly, sensing the hesitance in his words. She understood, of course—she’d expected a degree of judgment here. But there was something about the way he looked at her, something in the way his gaze lingered on her figure, that made her heart clench slightly.

“Don’t worry,” she replied with a reassuring smile, though her chest felt tight. “I’ll be all right. Besides, I’m here with you.”

He smiled, but she couldn’t help but notice the flicker of uncertainty in his expression. “Yes, well… just know that I’m here for you, all right? I want you there and I... I think you look amazing.”

Evangeline’s smile faltered. She wanted to believe his words, to feel reassured by them, but a small part of her felt a pang of insecurity, a sense that he too worried that she wouldn't measure up. The unease lingered as he led her down the quiet, empty corridors.

When they reached the grand fireplace in the main hall, Lysander turned to her, “Ready for the Floo?” he asked.

Evangeline took a deep breath, steadying herself. The idea of stepping into the Clearwater estate—the grand heart of Lysander’s prestigious family legacy—filled her with a flutter of nerves she couldn’t entirely quell. But as if sensing her hesitation, Lysander’s hand gave hers a gentle, reassuring squeeze, anchoring her in the moment. He had invited her into this world, had told her she was beautiful, that she was enough. The warmth in his gaze made her heart steady, and she found herself nodding, holding onto that reassurance.

“Ready,” she replied, her voice soft but steady.

They stepped into the fireplace together, and with a swirl of green flames and a murmured location, they were swept away, spinning through the Floo network until they arrived in a sprawling entry hall. Evangeline blinked, the scent of pine and cedar filling her senses as she adjusted to their new surroundings.

The Clearwater estate was nothing short of breathtaking—a massive country manor nestled in the rolling hills of northern England. High, vaulted ceilings rose above them, and towering windows lined the walls, offering glimpses of snow-dusted grounds and the expansive gardens beyond. Evergreen wreaths adorned the walls, and silver ornaments gleamed from garlands draped along the staircase, all lit by the soft glow of enchanted candles.

While she marveled at the opulence of it all, Lysander led her forward, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze as they moved through the grand hall. She could feel the subtle shift in atmosphere as they approached the party, the faint sound of strings and laughter filtering through the open doors.

As they entered the main ballroom, a tall, stately doorman standing just inside cleared his throat and called out in a deep, resonant voice, “Mr. Lysander Clearwater, accompanied by Miss Evangeline Sterling.”

The announcement echoed across the hall, drawing the attention of everyone present. There was a polite smattering of applause, heads turning to observe them as they stepped into the room. Evangeline’s heart fluttered, and she felt herself instinctively tighten her hold on Lysander’s arm. All around them were faces, expressions both curious and scrutinizing, each one belonging to one of Britain’s most prominent pure-blood families.

The ballroom itself was as breathtaking as the estate’s grand entrance, its high ceilings adorned with enchanted snowflakes and angels that drifted gracefully through the air before vanishing, leaving only a faint shimmer. Crystal chandeliers cast a golden light over everything, illuminating the guests’ elegantly tailored robes and glittering jewelry. Yet, for all its beauty, the ballroom felt almost like a stage, with her and Lysander as actors under the spotlight.

Lysander glanced down at her with a gentle smile, offering her silent reassurance as they began to make their way through the crowd. But the weight of so many eyes on her was nearly overwhelming, and her heart raced as she met the faces she recognized, thanks to Ominis’s help in preparing her for the evening.

Directly across the room, she saw the Rosiers, and a few steps away from them were the Notts, the Greengrasses, and, in the corner, a small cluster of younger members of the Bones family. Each family name conjured Ominis’s careful descriptions from the last few weeks—the Rosiers, with their dignified but unyielding ways; the Notts, known for their quiet but influential presence; and the Bones family, a more progressive branch yet still wary of outsiders. She felt herself instinctively standing a bit taller, hoping to project confidence even as whispers began to hum through the crowd.

From her peripheral vision, she noticed Lady Selwyn, a striking woman with silver hair pulled back in an intricate twist, watching her with an expression of cool appraisal. Just beside her was her son, who glanced briefly at Evangeline before returning his attention to his mother, the two of them leaning close to exchange what she could only assume were pointed comments.

Lysander leaned down to murmur in her ear, his voice warm and reassuring. “You’re doing wonderfully, Evangeline. They’re simply curious—nothing more.”

Evangeline nodded, managing a small smile in return, though her pulse quickened as they passed by a cluster of guests that included members of the Shacklebolt family and the Montagues. She could feel their gazes assessing her, each one almost certainly wondering about her background, her connection to Lysander, and her place in this world of lineage and privilege. Every smile, every polite nod they extended felt as though it carried a question rather than a welcome.

An orphan, isn’t she? No known family… a curious choice.

Rather unusual for a Clearwater to bring someone without a lineage, is it not?.

Though her chest tightened, Evangeline forced herself to hold her head high, willing herself to remain composed. Just breathe, she reminded herself. You’re here because he wants you here.

Then, across the room, Evangeline recognized Lysander’s parents, standing near a gathering of dignified guests. Mr. and Mrs. Clearwater were the picture of elegance—his mother in a deep sapphire gown that shimmered like the midnight sky, and his father in stately robes of rich navy trimmed with silver. They spoke with effortless grace, offering polite nods and warm smiles to the other guests. Evangeline could see where Lysander had inherited his poise and charm, but the sight of his parents brought a fresh wave of nerves.

As they crossed the room toward them, Lysander leaned down and whispered reassuringly, “Don’t worry. They’re thrilled to meet you.”

Evangeline mustered a small smile and a nod, grateful for his steadying presence but acutely aware of the scrutinizing gazes that followed their every step. She could feel herself slipping into a practiced politeness, a mask that she hoped would help her navigate the evening.

“Mother, Father,” Lysander greeted them warmly. “I’d like to introduce you to Evangeline.”

Mrs. Clearwater’s eyes lit up with a smile that, though kind, held the sharpness of someone well-versed in societal expectations. “Miss Sterling, what a pleasure it is to finally meet you,” she said, extending a graceful hand. “Lysander has spoken so highly of you.”

“It’s lovely to meet you both,” Evangeline replied, taking her hand with a respectful nod. “Thank you for inviting me. And please, call me Evangeline."

Mr. Clearwater gave her a polite smile, his gaze appraising but not unkind. “We’re glad to have you with us tonight, Evangeline,” he said. “The Solstice Ball is a tradition we’ve looked forward to hosting for years.”

“I am most pleased to be here,” she replied, choosing her words carefully. “It’s truly an honour to witness such a longstanding tradition.”

As they continued to chat, Evangeline found herself relaxing, her initial nerves giving way to a tentative ease under the polite but genuine interest of Lysander’s parents. The questions his parents asked were gentle, considerate, and more about getting to know her than she’d expected.

Mrs. Clearwater asked her which subject she enjoyed most, and as she replied, sharing her fondness for Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts, she noticed a warm approval in the woman’s eyes. Even Mr. Clearwater’s questions were light and conversational, his expression softening as he listened to her talk about her her favourite professors. Though there was an air of formality in their questions, she could sense their genuine curiosity, and it helped her to feel less like an outsider.

“I’ve heard from Lysander that you’re quite dedicated to your studies,” Mr. Clearwater remarked with a slight smile. “He says you spend hours in the library.”

Evangeline managed a small laugh, glancing at Lysander, who returned her smile with pride in his eyes. But as she looked away, a pang of guilt pricked her heart. She had told Lysander so often that she was “studying” when, in reality, her late-night hours were often spent in the shadows of the Undercroft with Sebastian and Ominis.

She tried to brush the thought aside, focusing on Mr. Clearwater’s friendly expression. “Yes,” she replied, her voice steady. “There’s always more to learn, and the library feels… comforting, somehow.”

Mrs. Clearwater nodded approvingly, her gaze warm. “That dedication is commendable, Evangeline. Lysander also tells us you’re also quite a talented Quidditch player. It’s rare to see someone so well-rounded in both studies and sport.”

Evangeline forced another smile, hoping they wouldn’t see the hesitation in her eyes. “Thank you, Mrs. Clearwater-"

But before Lysander's mother could say more, a voice called across the room, “Lysander! There you are!”

A distinguished-looking wizard with graying hair and a finely embroidered robe approached them, his expression one of pleasant expectation. Evangeline felt Lysander’s hand tighten gently on her arm as he turned to face the newcomer.

“Uncle Hamish,” Lysander greeted, his tone warm and familiar. “It’s good to see you.”

The man gave Lysander a hearty clap on the shoulder before his gaze fell on Evangeline. “Ah, you must be the Miss Sterling I’ve heard so much about,” he said with a friendly but appraising look. “Welcome to the Solstice Ball. It’s rare we see fresh faces around here.”

“Thank you,” Evangeline replied, inclining her head respectfully. “It’s an honour to be here.”

Uncle Hamish’s eyes twinkled with curiosity, but before he could ask her anything further, more family friends began to approach, and soon Lysander and Evangeline were drawn into a string of introductions. Each new face carried a name steeped in history: the Travers, the Macmillans, and the Rowles, each offering polite nods or warm smiles, their expressions various shades of curiosity and judgment. And Evangeline, for her part, continued to smile, to play along, even if the polite nods and mildly approving expressions of the guests never reached their eyes.

As they continued their rounds, she noticed familiar faces from Hogwarts in the mix. Scorpius Malfoy, looking every bit his aristocratic heritage in a deep blue robe with silver trim, chatted with an older member of the Shacklebolt family. The Notts triplets lingered in a group by the tall marble fireplace, and the Greengrass children exchanged pleasantries with the Black family near the refreshment tables. Each of them was a reminder of just how tightly woven the pure-blood world was, how its traditions and alliances were valued more than ever within the gilded confines of this ballroom.

“Lysander Clearwater,” a cold but civil voice said, interrupting them. Evangeline turned, coming face to face with a dignified woman in shimmering silver robes and an intricate hairpiece adorned with tiny crescent moons. Evangeline recognized the woman immediately—Lady Marigold Selwyn, one of the strictest, most traditional pure-blood figures in the room, according to Ominis.

“Lady Selwyn,” Lysander greeted smoothly, giving a polite nod as Evangeline curtsied. Lady Selwyn’s gaze shifted to Evangeline, her expression unreadable.

“You must be Miss Sterling, I presume?” The older woman’s eyes lingered on her, calculating. “It’s rare to see a… newcomer, at an event like this.”

Evangeline managed a polite smile, her heartbeat quickening. “Thank you for welcoming me, Lady Selwyn.”

Lady Selwyn’s smile was small and unreadable. “Indeed.” Her gaze flicked back to Lysander and her smile held a hint of something sharp as she continued, “I must say, I wasn’t aware the Clearwaters would be so… comfortable inviting someone of unknown heritage to such an event.”

The words hung in the air, delicate yet barbed, and Evangeline felt a tightening in her chest as the implication landed. She glanced at Lysander, hoping for a confident dismissal of the remark. But to her surprise, his expression faltered, and for the first time that evening, he seemed unsure. His hand tightened slightly around hers, as though reassuring himself as much as her.

“Lady Selwyn,” he began, his voice measured, “Evangeline is my guest tonight, and that’s all that should matter.”

The response, though polite, felt strangely hollow, and Evangeline could sense that it hadn’t quite satisfied the question hovering in the air. Lady Selwyn raised an eyebrow, her faint, polite smile never faltering as she regarded them both, and after a moment, she offered a small, dismissive nod.

“Of course,” she said smoothly. “Forgive me, my dear. It’s just that traditions are… important to some of us.” With that, she gave them both a polite nod and drifted away, leaving Evangeline feeling strangely exposed.

The silence lingered for a moment, and she turned to Lysander, hoping for some reassurance. But his expression remained oddly guarded, and he looked away, clearing his throat.

“It’s nothing,” he said softly. “Lady Selwyn… she's particularly traditional. Don’t take it personally.”

Evangeline studied him, a seed of doubt taking root. There had been something in his response—something evasive. But before she could press the question and figure out what, a familiar figure caught her eye across the room. Ominis stood near a corner, looking poised and calm as he conversed with a few guests, his posture relaxed despite how much Evangeline knew he hated these events. Relief washed over her as she saw him, and for a moment, the tension in her chest eased. She managed a small smile, grateful to see a familiar face amid the sea of strangers.

“Would you excuse me for a moment?” she asked, her hand slipping from Lysander's. “I’d like to say hello to Ominis.”

Lysander nodded, his expression softening. “Of course. I’ll be right here.”

With a grateful smile, Evangeline excused herself and wove through the crowd, making her way toward Ominis. He sensed her approach, turning slightly and offering her a warm smile when she reached him.

“Evangeline,” he greeted, his voice a comforting balm amid the evening’s mounting tension. “You look… truly stunning.”

“Thank you, Ominis,” she replied, her voice soft with relief. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Ominis tilted his head, his smile fading slightly as he caught a note of strain in her tone. “Are you all right?”

She hesitated, her gaze flicking back to where Lysander stood, surrounded by his family’s world. “I’m… not sure,” she admitted, feeling her guarded composure begin to crack. “There’s a lot I didn’t expect about tonight.”

“Am I one of them?”

Evangeline couldn’t see him, but she’d know that voice anywhere. She turned slowly, and there he was—Sebastian, standing behind her with that familiar lopsided smirk, dressed in dark formal robes that seemed to make his eyes even darker, more intense.

"Sebastian," she breathed, both surprised and unsteady.

Ominis’s expression held a hint of mischief, “I thought you’d appreciate a familiar face or two,” he said, as if orchestrating this was the most obvious thing in the world.

Evangeline glanced back at Sebastian, her emotions twisting. She knew, logically, that she shouldn’t be entirely surprised. Sebastian was a pure-blood, after all, even if his family name didn’t hold the same prestigious position among the 24 as Ominis's. And, in a way, it was perfectly reasonable for Ominis to bring him as a guest, given that he had, once again, openly spited his own family’s expectations by refusing to bring a date.

Still, seeing Sebastian here, dressed in dark formal robes that seemed to sharpen every line of his face, took her by surprise. The sight of him like this—a balance of elegance and barely-contained restlessness—made her heart skip in a way she hadn’t quite prepared for.

“I hope you’re not too disappointed to see me,” Sebastian said, a trace of teasing in his voice, though his gaze was sharper, more intent, as he took her in.

She shook her head, managing a small smile despite the way her chest tightened. “No, not at all. I—” She paused, “I'm just surprised. What are you doing here?” she managed, her voice soft.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “What? I can’t attend a fancy ball with my best mate?” His smile softened slightly as his gaze held hers.

Ominis gave her arm a light squeeze, “What was it you came to tell me?”

Evangeline blinked, her thoughts scattering. She had prepared herself for this night, for Lysander’s world and all the traditions it entailed. But she hadn’t prepared for Sebastian—hadn’t anticipated the way his dark, roguish eyes would draw her in with the simplest of looks, how his presence alone could make her feel unsteady.

“I… nothing, I just wanted to say hello, Ominis,” she managed, trying to focus on anything but Sebastian’s gaze.

She cast a nervous glance back toward Lysander, reminding herself of his kindness, his patience, his unwavering attention tonight. This night was important to him—to them. And she was here to be part of his world, to show him the respect of her focus and presence. It wasn’t fair to let herself be pulled in another direction by someone who, no matter how much he meant to her, wasn’t courting her. Wasn't offering her a future in the way Lysander was.

“I should get back,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else, willing her heart to slow as she took a step back. “Lysander’s waiting for me.”

Ominis’s expression softened, reading the conflict in her face. “Of course, Evie,” he said gently, his gaze flicking to Sebastian, who gave him an unreadable look in return.

With one last glance at them both, she turned, making her way back through the crowd to Lysander, hoping her face didn’t betray the tumult within her.

Sebastian watched her retreat, his expression unreadable and his eyes never leaving her until she melted into the crowd. He knew, deep down, that he shouldn’t have come. This was Evangeline’s night, a public statement of her courtship with Clearwater. He could see it in the way Lysander had held her hand, his possessive pride at having her by his side, dressed in a gown that has Sebastian’s heart stuttering.

And yet, he couldn’t help himself.

“She looks beautiful tonight,” Sebastian murmured, almost to himself, his voice carrying a note of longing he hadn’t intended to let slip.

Ominis nodded, his own gaze softening as he watched Evangeline laugh with Lysander across the room. “She does,” he agreed, though there was a subtle edge to his tone, as if reminding Sebastian of the reality before them. “But remember what this night means for her. For Lysander.”

Sebastian’s jaw tightened, and he forced himself to look away, staring at the glittering crowd as though he could will his heart back under control. “I know,” he muttered, the words barely audible. The sight of her with Lysander—the easy way they fit together tonight—stirred something raw and painful within him, something he fought to keep buried.

Ominis’s expression darkened slightly, and he lowered his voice. “Though,” he said slowly, a hint of suspicion creeping into his tone, “I believe I know what she wanted to come over and tell me.”

Sebastian frowned, catching the shift in his friend’s demeanour. “What do you mean?”

Ominis’s lips pressed into a thin line, his usually soft expression hardening slightly. “While you’ve been enjoying the food and drinks, I’ve been making an effort to blend in with our esteemed pure-blood company—listening.” His voice grew colder, a hint of bitterness lacing his words. “Being a Gaunt has its uses at events like this. People assume I’m interested in their little whispers about lineage and appearances.”

Sebastian’s brows knitted, his gaze fixed on Ominis with sudden intensity. “What did you hear?”

Ominis took a slow breath, casting a careful glance around to ensure they wouldn’t be overheard. “There’s been talk of Evangeline all evening,” he said, his voice barely above a murmur. “Many here are intrigued by the Clearwaters’ choice to invite someone whose heritage is… less defined. And old Lady Selwyn isn’t the only one who finds it... surprising.” He paused, his jaw tightening. “Some of them have made comments... about her appearance, too."

Sebastian’s fists tightened as Ominis’s words sank in, his face darkening with barely controlled fury. “They’re saying what about her?” His voice was low, simmering, yet his anger was barely contained. He couldn’t believe it—no, he could believe it, but that only made it worse.

Ominis’s gaze flicked to him, noting his clenched jaw. “I overheard many of them talking about it from the moment she walked in. Comments about her ‘fitting in’ if she just—” he hesitated, his voice edged with disgust, “if she lost a few pounds,’ or ‘if she refined herself just a bit more... Honestly Sebastian I can’t even bring myself to repeat it all."

Sebastian’s entire body went rigid, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles turned white. A fierce, unspoken fury simmered beneath the surface, his expression hardening into something dangerously unreadable. He couldn’t help but think of Evangeline—how she’d spent the summer in quiet, hidden grief, the weight of loss taking its toll on her. By the time sixth year had started, she’d returned looking as though she'd be hollowed out, her natural curves diminished, her face pale and drawn. He remembered watching her then, noticing the exhaustion in her eyes and the way she seemed to drift through each day, her usual spark dimmed.

Only recently, after countless shared meals where he’d made it his mission to coax her into actually eating, had he seen her begin to come back to herself. Her laughter had returned, the colour in her cheeks brightening, and he’d watched her figure regain the fullness it was always meant to hold. And to Sebastian, her softness, her radiance, her curves—they were everything that made her uniquely, stunningly Evangeline. Irresistible, if he were honest with himself.

The idea that anyone could see her, truly see her, and still suggest she needed to change, to “refine” herself for this world, struck him like a physical blow. And now here she was, enduring these vultures picking apart her appearance as if she hadn’t already lost enough.

“They’re speculating about her background, as well,” Ominis continued, his voice tight with disdain, “Lady Selwyn has already suggested she’s not a suitable match for Lysander because her heritage is unknown. And a few others seem to think Lysander hasn’t been entirely honest with his family about her… origins.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed, his voice barely controlled. "What do you mean?"

Ominis let out a slow, frustrated breath, his gaze hardening as he glanced around the room, ensuring their conversation remained private. “I mean,” he said quietly, “that Lysander may have presented her here tonight without fully preparing his family for the reality of who she is. Not out of malice, but perhaps… convenience.” His jaw tightened, his normally calm demeanor fraying at the edges. “He may not have explicitly shared that Evangeline is an orphan, that her past is… obscured. Instead, it seems he’s let them draw their own conclusions. And unfortunately, some of the 24,” he glanced meaningfully at Lady Selwyn across the room, "Know the truth."

Sebastian’s anger blazed, his fists clenching at his sides. “If Lysander didn’t tell his family… then she’s here, surrounded by people who already don’t think she belongs. And he’s left her to fend off rumors and comments on her own?”

He could hardly stand it. The gall of it—to parade Evangeline into this room as a token of courtship without the courage to be fully honest, to be proud about who she was. His mind whirred, torn between fury and the urge to pull her out of this charade himself.

Ominis nodded grimly, his expression unreadable. “Exactly.” He paused, glancing in Evangeline’s direction, where she stood next to Lysander, her posture stiff. “She’s holding her own, but...”

Sebastian could barely hear him through the roaring in his ears, his gaze searching for Evangeline across the room. The grace with which she held herself, even as he knew she felt out of place—it left his heart aching and his fists itching to knock some sense into the people around her. “If Lysander can’t even stand up for her… he doesn’t deserve her,” Sebastian muttered, voice harsh.

Ominis’s hand found Sebastian’s shoulder, holding him back. “Sebastian, keep your head. Making a scene will only make things worse.”

Sebastian took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to rein in the fury simmering in his chest. Ominis was right, of course; storming across the ballroom and demanding the respect Evangeline deserved wouldn’t help her in this situation. It would only serve as further fodder for those gossiping mouths to twist, to fuel the whispers that already followed her every step tonight.

But he couldn’t ignore the knot tightening in his stomach as he watched her beside Lysander, her expression calm and poised yet visibly weary.

“She deserves better than this,” he muttered through clenched teeth, his eyes never leaving her figure in the distance. “I can’t just stand here and do nothing.”

Ominis’s grip on his shoulder tightened, grounding him. “Then don’t. But we need to handle this the right way.”

A plan began to form in his mind—a way to pull her from the crowd, if only for a moment, to give her a breath of reprieve. He cast a sidelong glance at Ominis. “If I bring her away for a dance, it won’t cause too much of a stir… right?”

Ominis smirked, catching on to Sebastian’s line of thinking. “A dance could be explained as a courtesy—once she’s already danced with Lysander, there’s no reason why we couldn’t offer.”

Sebastian nodded, his gaze sharp with intent. “If we both can pull her away, perhaps for some of the… longer numbers, we might give her a real break from all of this.” He smirked, a flash of determination in his eyes. “Besides, a little reminder that she’s not alone tonight might do wonders.”

Ominis chuckled, his own smirk laced with mischief. “Indeed. And perhaps it’ll unsettle a few of the more… observant guests, seeing her so well-accompanied.��

With a shared look of understanding, the two made their way across the ballroom toward Evangeline and Lysander, their expressions composed, projecting an air of pure-blood decorum that rarely found its way to Sebastian’s face. He could feel Ominis’s approving smirk beside him, as if the two of them were setting off on a mission rather than simply crossing a room.

As they neared her, Sebastian caught Evangeline’s eyes, watching as a flicker of surprise lit her expression. He suppressed a grin, noting the subtle way her brows lifted, and the small, almost concealed smile that tugged at the corner of her lips. If nothing else, it seemed his ‘proper’ entrance was already having the intended effect.

Lysander greeted them both with a nod, his expression polite but tight, perhaps aware that he was no longer the sole focus of Evangeline’s attention. Before he could speak, however, Ominis stepped forward with the composed grace of a Gaunt heir, inclining his head toward Evangeline.

“Miss Sterling,” he said in a voice smooth enough to rival any of the assembled pure-blood elite, “Mr. Sallow and I would be delighted if you’d allow us each a dance this evening."

Evangeline’s eyes widened, and a faint laugh slipped from her lips as she looked from Ominis to Sebastian, who had plastered a charmingly formal smile on his face to match the act.

“Indeed,” Sebastian added with a glint of mischief, inclining his head. “Would you join us for a dance or two, Miss Sterling? If your esteemed date has no objections, of course,” he said, directing a pointed look at Lysander. It was as courteous as a request could sound, though Lysander caught the unspoken challenge in his tone.

Lysander, managing a polite smile, nodded after a tense pause. “Of course,” he replied, though there was a hint of reluctance in his tone.

Evangeline’s gaze darted between the three of them, her cheeks tinged pink, and her lips pressed together as though she were holding back a laugh. The sight of Sebastian dressed to perfection and behaving as though he were part of the pure-blood inner circle was almost too much for her to bear.

Sebastian couldn’t resist a smirk as he watched her, knowing exactly how out of place she must have felt seeing him behave with such exaggerated propriety. He winked, a subtle gesture that went unnoticed by Lysander but sent a rush of warmth to Evangeline’s cheeks.

“Very well,” she said, managing to keep her tone composed despite the amusement dancing in her eyes. “I’d be honoured to have a dance with each of you.”

“Excellent,” Ominis replied smoothly, reaching for her dance card as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He carefully signed his name, then passed it to Sebastian with a knowing look.

Sebastian took the dance card, his fingers brushing against hers for the briefest moment, sending a subtle but unmistakable jolt through him. He maintained his poised expression, though the corners of his mouth twitched with a hint of amusement as he signed his name in a bold, sweeping script. Handing the card back to Evangeline, he caught her gaze, letting his warm eyes linger a moment longer than strictly necessary.

“Thank you, Miss Sterling,” he said with the utmost formality, his voice a low murmur. “I look forward to our dance.”

Evangeline stifled a laugh, glancing at Ominis with a raised eyebrow, as if to say, Is he serious? But Ominis simply gave a slight, knowing nod, thoroughly enjoying their shared performance.

“Until then,” Ominis added, his tone gentle but unyielding, signaling that they’d soon be reclaiming her attention. He gave her a small, polite bow before turning to leave, his every movement laced with subtle but unmistakable confidence.

Sebastian followed Ominis’s lead, and as they walked away, he couldn’t resist one last glance back at Evangeline. She was watching them, an expression of bewildered delight etched across her face, as though she still couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

The two made their way back to a vantage point by the ballroom's edge, positioning themselves where they could keep an eye on her. Ominis leaned close, lowering his voice to avoid drawing any unwanted attention.

“Well,” he murmured, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips, “if nothing else, we’ve given her something to smile about.”

Sebastian’s gaze softened, his anger toward Lysander momentarily replaced by a sense of quiet pride. “Good. Merlin knows she deserves a bit of joy tonight.” He watched her as she returned to conversing with Lysander, her posture slightly more relaxed, her smile genuine. The heaviness in his chest lightened, if only just.

Sebastian and Ominis continued greeting clusters of dignified guests and elite families as the night continued on. Sebastian wore a faintly amused smile, a mask of charm that he’d perfected over the years. Though he held little regard for pure-blood traditions or the rigid expectations of these gatherings, Sebastian knew how to navigate them effortlessly, his natural charisma easing conversations and winning approving nods even from the most scrutinizing figures in the room.

Ominis, meanwhile, was equally adept at the art of polite socializing, his demeanour practiced and precise. His background and name alone commanded respect, and combined with his easy elegance, he could sway conversations and command attention with a quiet word or two. Together, they formed an unbreakable front, subtly deflecting any barbed questions or suspicious glances that came their way regarding Evangeline.

After a few drinks, they found themselves by the bar, each holding a glass of something dark and smooth as they observed the room with a mixture of detachment and careful interest. This late into the night, the laughter had grown louder, the polished veneer of decorum slipping just enough to reveal the familiar arrogance that often accompanied pure-blood gatherings.

“Merlin’s beard, the gall of some of these people,” Sebastian muttered, barely keeping his disdain out of his voice. He took a measured sip of his drink, his gaze shifting to Evangeline across the room.

“Pure-blood tradition,” Ominis replied, his voice laced with irony. “It’s a game, Sebastian. A game we’re all forced to play.” He gave a small shrug, his eyes flicking towards Lady Selwyn, who was in the middle of what looked to be an animated conversation with a group of guests.

Just then, the orchestra struck up the first notes of a formal waltz, finally signaling the beginning of the evening’s opening dance. A hush fell over the ballroom as the guests turned their attention to the dance floor, where Lysander led Evangeline forward with a confident smile.

Sebastian’s gaze zeroed in on her instantly, his heart giving an involuntary, almost painful lurch. She looked radiant, her gown catching the candlelight as she moved, the deep green fabric cascading around her figure.

Her face held an expression of reserved concentration, her eyes meeting Lysander’s with a polite but distant smile. Sebastian’s jaw tightened; he couldn’t help but feel as if she were forcing herself to play a role for him.

Next to him, Ominis nudged his shoulder, pulling Sebastian from his tense reverie. “If you keep staring like that, you’re going to set the whole ballroom on fire.”

Sebastian huffed a quiet laugh, his grip tightening around his glass. “Wouldn’t that be a sight,” he muttered, though his gaze didn’t waver from the dance floor.

Ominis raised an eyebrow but said nothing, watching as Lysander placed a steady hand on Evangeline’s waist, guiding her effortlessly across the floor in time with the music. Lysander’s movements were polished, his steps exact and calculated. Evangeline followed gracefully, though Sebastian could sense a hint of discomfort in her posture, the faint strain in her shoulders as she tried to match Lysander’s steps.

“I wonder what she's thinking,” Sebastian murmured, his gaze never leaving Evangeline.

“…probably something along the lines of ‘don’t trip,’” Ominis replied with a smirk, though his tone softened as he watched her. “But more likely, she’s just focused on keeping up with every unspoken rule in this room."

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. “She shouldn’t have to.” He watched as Lysander spun her, her gown flaring out elegantly before she returned to his arms. Though she was smiling, it was distant, a careful expression that made Sebastian’s chest ache. He’d seen her more relaxed battling a bludger on the Quidditch pitch.

Ominis tilted his head, considering Sebastian's expression with a subdued smile, “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you're jealous.”

Sebastian shot him a look, but the slight flush in his cheeks betrayed him. In response, Ominis chuckled, though there was an understanding glint in his eyes. “Careful, or you’ll end up declaring a duel for her honor before the night’s through.”

Sebastian managed a dry laugh. “Don’t tempt me.” He took a long sip from his glass, gaze unwavering from Evangeline as she and Lysander moved together in perfect, rehearsed steps.

Soon, the orchestra swelled, and the dance came to an elegant close, applause rippling across the room as couples broke apart and moved to the edges of the floor.

Sebastian watched with a mixture of impatience and something deeper as a series of partners approached Evangeline for dances. He clenched his jaw each time a new hand slipped around her waist, guiding her through the steps of formal waltzes and lively gavottes, though the sting was lessened by the simple fact that none of them were Lysander. Still, a faint ache lingered as he watched her smile politely, never quite reaching her eyes, as she moved gracefully around the floor.

But then, finally, it was Ominis’s turn, and Sebastian allowed himself a small sigh of relief, tension easing from his shoulders. He watched as Ominis approached her with his usual effortless poise, offering his hand as though it were his natural role to lead her across the floor. Evangeline’s smile softened, her eyes lighting up in genuine warmth as she placed her hand in his. The orchestra began a slower waltz this time, and Ominis guided her gracefully into the steps, their movements fluid and comfortable.

Sebastian found himself leaning back, finally able to enjoy the sight of her at ease, her laughter unforced as she and Ominis shared quiet words only they could hear. The tension that had simmered in his chest all evening gradually faded, replaced by a sense of peace. At least with Ominis, she was in good hands, safe from scrutiny or judgment. Safe from having to be anything but herself.

Just as he was beginning to relax, a familiar voice beside him interrupted his thoughts. “Looks like they’re having a good time, doesn’t it?”

Sebastian glanced over, finding himself face-to-face with Lysander at the bar. His smile was polite, his tone cordial, but Sebastian caught the glimmer of something sharper in his eyes.

“Yes,” Sebastian replied smoothly, keeping his expression neutral. “I’m glad to see her enjoying herself.”

Lysander hummed thoughtfully, turning his gaze back toward the dance floor. “It’s good for her to be around friends.” He paused, swirling his drink idly. "I don't need to worry so much about Ominis trying to charm her."

Sebastian felt a sudden shift, the unspoken understanding settling heavily between them. Lysander’s offhand remark about Ominis hadn’t just been a casual observation. But for a fleeting moment, they were united in a mutual sentiment—one both protective and possessive over Evangeline, sparked by the sight of her in Ominis’s embrace.

Sebastian’s smirk softened just a fraction, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Lysander. “Indeed,” he said with a hint of a drawl. “Ominis is as steady as they come.”

Lysander inclined his head, his smile faintly amused. “Exactly. He’s dependable, the sort one doesn’t have to worry about. It’s… reassuring.”

Sebastian’s jaw clenched at the subtext in Lysander’s voice, the implication that anyone else would be a threat. “Reassuring,” he echoed dryly, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Though I doubt Evangeline needs anyone to monitor her choices. I imagine she won’t settle for anything less than exactly what she deserves.”

Lysander’s polite smile tightened, his grip on his glass shifting ever so slightly. “Naturally,” he replied smoothly. “Evangeline has a rare quality. Someone worth respecting—and valuing properly. I'm fortunate to have the means by which to do so. Legacy and tradition certainly help in that regard.”

Sebastian felt the words land like blow to the chest, the calculated sting of Lysander’s remark hitting exactly where it was meant to. Legacy and tradition—a direct reference to his own lack of both. His family name carried none of the prestige of the honoured 24, and whatever heritage he might have claimed had been buried along with his parents. The remnants of his family, shattered and estranged, left him with no claim to any grand lineage, unlike the man currently courting Evangeline.

But Sebastian held his composure, allowing only the faintest smirk to play at his lips, one that dared Lysander to push harder if he wanted a response. “Legacy and tradition,” Sebastian echoed, the words coming out slowly, almost contemplative. “Those are essential, of course.” He paused, swirling his drink as if lost in thought. “But I imagine Evangeline’s not someone who can be… contained by mere tradition.” His gaze flickered back to Lysander, his meaning clear. “Anyone who thinks so might be in for a bit of a surprise.”

Lysander’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, his composure still intact, but Sebastian could sense the underlying tension building with each carefully veiled remark. “True enough,” Lysander replied, his tone masking his irritation. “But she does appreciate the stability that tradition offers. Familiarity, honour… a sense of belonging.” He looked at Sebastian with a faintly superior expression, as though implying that only someone of his status could provide her with such things.

Sebastian’s jaw tightened subtly, though he maintained his relaxed posture. “Perhaps. But then, she’s not someone to be boxed into anyone else’s expectations. She’s far too… vibrant for that.” He let his gaze linger on Evangeline, who laughed at something Ominis said, her eyes bright, her entire demeanour relaxed and radiant.

Lysander’s smile grew faint, his eyes fixed on Sebastian with barely concealed disdain. “You sound quite invested, Mr. Sallow,” he said, his voice smooth but the barb unmistakable. “One might even mistake your attentiveness for something… personal.”

Sebastian turned to meet his gaze directly, his own smile sharpening just enough to reveal the edge beneath it. “Perhaps I am invested, in the sense that I want to see her happy. But then, I am her closest friend. You know, Evangeline has a way of inspiring… loyalty.” He tilted his glass slightly, as though in a subtle toast. “After all, only a fool would take her presence for granted.”

Lysander’s composure wavered for the briefest moment, his fingers tightening around his glass, but he quickly masked it, returning the slight nod with a cold smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it."

Before either of them could speak again, the music shifted, signaling the start of another dance. Sebastian glanced toward the floor, where Evangeline was laughing, her gaze bright as she exchanged a few words with Ominis.

Sebastian downed the rest of his drink in one smooth motion, feeling the warmth settle in his chest as he set the glass down with a soft clink. He met Lysander’s gaze one last time, his smile sharp and challenging.

“Well then, best not to keep her waiting,” he said lightly, inclining his head toward the dance floor. “I’d hate for anyone to think I’m neglecting the rules of tradition.”

He gave Lysander a final nod, then turned, his stride calm and unhurried as he made his way to the edge of the dance floor where Evangeline stood, watching Ominis with a warm smile as he gave her a gentlemanly bow. When Ominis stepped back, he turned and caught Sebastian’s eye, a glint of amusement flickering across his face as he gave a subtle nod of encouragement.

Sebastian couldn’t help but smirk, letting his irritation from the exchange with Lysander melt away as he approached Evangeline, taking in the sight of her as if seeing her anew. Under the ballroom’s warm, flickering lights, she looked ethereal, every bit as captivating as he’d imagined in his most vulnerable moments. The gown she wore perfectly complemented her hazel eyes, its delicate fabric draping elegantly over her curves in a way that was both tasteful and irresistibly alluring.

His eyes traced the line of her jaw, the curve of her shoulders exposed by the off-the-shoulder cut of her gown. And then there was her mouth—a soft, inviting shape that seemed made to pull his gaze, her lips parted in a smile that made his heart stumble.

He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until he was close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her, an intoxicating mix of confidence and shyness that seemed uniquely hers. Her gaze flicked up to meet his, her eyes widening just a fraction as she registered the intensity in his expression. The hint of surprise in her eyes made his pulse race; she had no idea how stunning she was, or the effect she had on him.

“Sebastian,” she greeted him, her voice soft, and he felt a rush of warmth at the sound of his name on her lips.

He held out his hand, his fingers itching to close the distance, to feel her warmth in his palm. “Miss Sterling,” he replied, his voice a low murmur that carried an undercurrent of unspoken admiration. "May I have this dance?

“Certainly,” she replied, a faint teasing glimmer in her eyes as her hand slipped into his into his, sending an unexpected thrill up his arm.

They took their place on the dance floor, and as he settled one hand at her waist, feeling the warmth of her through the thin fabric, he fought to keep his composure. Her body fit against his so naturally, the gentle curve of her hips pressing against him in a way that felt achingly intimate, even through the propriety of their formal stance. His hand at her waist tightened just slightly, grounding him, as though any release would risk him forgetting himself entirely.

When she looked up at him, a hint of curiosity in her eyes, he managed a faint smile, though the heat simmering beneath it was impossible to disguise.

“Don’t look so shocked,” he murmured, his tone low and teasing. “Believe it or not, I can manage the occasional formal dance without causing a scandal.”

She let out a soft laugh, her shoulders relaxing as they moved in sync with the music. “I’m… impressed,” she admitted, amusement lighting up her gaze.

Sebastian chuckled, his voice warm and rich. “I’ll take that as a high compliment,” he said, letting his hand press just a little more firmly at her waist. “Though, I must admit… it helps to have such a stunning partner. You look... remarkable tonight."

It was an understatement, and he knew it, but he was afraid that admitting the truth—that he found her nothing short of breathtaking—might unravel the thin thread of restraint he clung to.

Her cheeks flushed, and he watched, captivated, as a soft smile curved her lips. “Thank you,” she replied, her voice so quiet he had to lean in to hear it, her breath brushing against his skin, sending a shiver down his spine.

They turned, his hand tightened instinctively at her waist, drawing her just a bit closer. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and the air between them thickened, the tension growing into something palpable, something unspoken yet unmistakable.

"I must admit, I'm... quite surprised you're here tonight," she murmured, her gaze softening as it held his. There was an unspoken question in her eyes, a flicker of curiosity and something more—a longing he hadn’t dared to hope for.

Sebastian’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Ominis thought you might appreciate some familiar faces,” he replied smoothly, though the truth lay deeper than that. The chance to see her tonight, to be close to her, had been too tempting to ignore. “And, truthfully, I couldn’t resist.”

She raised an eyebrow, her own smile growing as she tilted her head to study him. “Couldn’t resist a formal pure-blood gathering?"

He took a steadying breath, a faint, wistful smile crossing his face. “Well,” he began, his voice lightening just slightly, “I came to offer my services as a very traditional, well-mannered dance partner.”

Her laughter was soft, genuine, and it lit up her eyes in a way that made his pulse quicken. “Well-mannered? That’s new,” she teased, her voice warm.

“Only for tonight,” he said, his tone holding a playful edge, though his gaze on her was steady, unwavering. “Consider it my rare attempt at making a good impression.”

She tilted her head, still smiling. “A good impression? Whatever for?”

“Perhaps to remind you that I’m worth at least one more dance,” he replied smoothly, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of her hand, sending a thrill up his arm.

Evangeline’s gaze softened, a hint of colour rising to her cheeks. “I suppose I could allow that.'

Their steps fell into sync, an effortless rhythm carrying them across the floor. Sebastian found himself drawn to the small details—how her hair framed her face, the warmth of her hand in his, and the way her lips curved into that small, shy smile when she met his gaze. She didn’t seem to realize just how utterly captivating she was. She was more than beautiful; she was… mesmerizing, a force he felt powerless to resist.

As their first dance concluded, Sebastian held onto her hand a fraction longer than necessary, his gaze lingering on her as if memorizing every detail. The orchestra struck up a new melody, and he hesitated, reluctant to let her slip away.

"One more?" he asked despite himself.

Evangeline smiled shyly, offering him a small nod, and he felt a rush of satisfaction as he led her back into the flow of the music, their steps effortlessly aligning.

This dance was slower, more intimate than before, the distance between them narrowing with each turn. Sebastian couldn’t stop himself from tracing every curve, each shy glance, and the soft flush of her cheeks under the ballroom lights. As he felt her heart beat in rhythm with his, he almost let himself believe that this moment was real—that there was no Lysander waiting at the edge of the crowd.

When the final notes faded, they stilled, and reality began to press in on him. Sebastian forced his grip to ease, his hand dropping from her waist as he prepared to release her, despite every instinct screaming to hold on.

As they pulled apart, he managed a faint smile, though his eyes betrayed a flash of pain. "Thank you for the dance, Evangeline. You’ve made my evening…" He trailed off, his voice losing its strength as he struggled to maintain his composure, glancing away briefly to gather himself.

Evangeline gave him a soft, searching look, her own emotions flickering in her gaze. "The pleasure was mine, Sebastian," she whispered, her tone achingly sincere. Then Sebastian caught a flicker of movement over her shoulder—Lysander was watching, a faint frown creasing his features as he started toward them.

Sebastian’s jaw clenched, and his heart twisted painfully. He wanted to say something, to tell her what he truly felt, but the words lodged in his throat, tangled with fear. Instead, he took a steadying breath and stepped back, letting her slip from his grasp with a forced, bittersweet smile.

Every fiber of him longing to reach out, to ask her to stay, to say what he had kept buried inside. But he remained silent, watching her treating form as she she was swept in the Ravenclaw's arms, the vision of her, radiant and out of reach, searing itself into his mind.

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