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writingsoftarnishedsilver · 2 months ago

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Temporary Rivalry | Sebastian Sallow x OC #29

this is a rewrite! I published an earlier version of this chapter because i was being a silly and overexcited, but some parts of Evie and Seb's story has changed so it needed a bit of an edit.

Summary: In a fierce Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Quidditch match, Evie faces off against Sebastian. After both save each other from rough falls, Gryffindor wins. Later, in the Undercroft, Sebastian and Evangeline discuss their love lives.

Words: ~7,000

Tags: One Shot, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Original Female Character, Pining, Quidditch, Protective Sebastian Sallow, Fluff, Humor, Banter

Timeline: Mid-November

Read more stories about Sebastian and Evangeline Read on AO3

The air buzzed with anticipation as Evangeline stepped onto the pitch, her broom in one hand and her trusty bat in the other. The crisp November breeze carried the energy of the roaring crowd, their cheers and chants rising like a wave to meet the tension in her chest. It was the first Quidditch game of the year��the perfect chance to leave everything behind. The Muldoons, Noctivus Gaunt, Alaric, endless quizzes and classes, and the nightmares that wouldn’t let her rest. All of it faded away as she focused on the match ahead.

“They're still letting a pixie into the beater’s lineup?” one Slytherin jeered, and a few laughs ripple across the crowd.

Evie rolled her eyes. This fifth year's comments weren't anything new—people were always surprised to see her there, outfitted in her crimson and gold robes as a beater. At barely five feet tall, with a curvy build that seemed more suited for a friendly library chat than a high-stakes Quidditch match, Evangeline hardly matched the image of most seventh-year beaters. Her competition, especially on the Slytherin team, were all tall, broad-shouldered, and often twice her size.

Across the field, Sebastian was already watching her with that trademark smirk plastered on his face, the one could twist her stomach into knots. But not today. Today, he wasn't just Sebastian, he was Slytherin’s star chaser, the one player Evie was determined to stop at all costs.

“Try not to embarrass yourself out there, Sallow!” she called across the field, raising her bat in challenge, earning a few laughs from the Gryffindor stands.

He turned, eyebrows raised as he scanned the pitch for the source of the voice. When he found her, he broke into a familiar, taunting grin. “You sure you can handle that bat, Sterling? Wouldn’t want you to go and hurt yourself in front of everyone.”

Evie grinned, her eyes sparking with mischief. “I’d be more worried about you, Sebastian. They say Bludgers have a taste for cocky Slytherins.”

The Slytherin chaser snorted, a playful gleam in his eyes. “Keep dreaming, Evie."

Madam Kogawa’s sharp whistle cut through the noise, summoning the team captains to the center of the pitch. Evie’s attention flickered to the two captains as they made their way forward—Imelda, with her trademark scowl, and Garreth, who was practically bouncing with excitement.

As Imelda reached the center, she gave Garreth a smirk that dripped with challenge, her eyes narrowing. Garreth only grinned wider, hands on his hips, clearly enjoying the face-off. Evie couldn’t hear their words, but she could guess the exchange was anything but friendly.

“All right, Weasley, Reyes,” Madam Kogawa began, her voice carrying easily across the field. “You both know the rules. Let’s keep it clean this time.” Her gaze flicked meaningfully towards the Slytherin section, where a few students tried to look innocent.

Imelda gave a sly smile. “Oh, we’re always well-behaved, Professor,” she replied with a mock innocence that earned a few chuckles from the Slytherin crowd.

Garreth rolled his eyes, grinning. “Always happy to set a good example for Slytherin to follow,” he quipped, giving Evie a quick thumbs-up from his place in the center.

Sebastian took the opportunity to sidle a bit closer to Evie, his gaze fixed on her with that smug, irritating grin she both loved and despised. “You know, Sterling, this would be a lot easier if you just conceded right now.”

She raised an eyebrow, unbothered by his teasing. “If you’re worried, you could always just stay out of my way."

Sebastian laughed, low and rich, shaking his head as he mounted his broom. "Oh, I’m not worried about me, Sterling. Just hoping you don’t knock yourself out before I get the chance to score."

Evie rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smirk that tugged at her lips. The banter between them was practically tradition at this point—a fiery back-and-forth that only fueled the tension simmering just below the surface. It was the perfect distraction from everything else. Here, on the pitch, it was simple: win or lose, fight or fall. No homework, no haunting dreams, no complicated feelings about boys with smirks that could light a fire in her chest. Just the game. And today, Evie was determined to have the last word—both in their exchange and on the scoreboard.

The sharp trill of Madam Kogawa’s whistle signaled for them to get in their positions, snapping them both back to attention. With a parting wink, Sebastian took off, soaring into the sky with effortless grace, leaving her to watch his figure against the bright blue sky before snapping herself into focus. She gripped her bat tighter, her resolve setting as she launched into the air, her eyes immediately scanning for the Bludgers.

From the moment the Quaffle was released, the game was a storm of action. Evie quickly found her rhythm, darting around the pitch with surprising agility, her small frame allowing her to maneuver around the larger players. She spotted a Bludger veering dangerously close to Garreth, and with a powerful swing, sent it hurtling away, just grazing the fingertips of a Slytherin chaser who cursed under his breath.

The game continued with each team fighting tooth and nail. Gryffindor scored, then Slytherin, and back and forth the points climbed, the crowd cheering with every goal. Evie was a blur on the pitch, diving and dodging, sending Bludgers toward the Slytherin chasers with controlled fury.

Every so often, her gaze would catch on Sebastian, the two of them exchanging a quick, heated look before they’d break away to focus on their respective plays. The intensity between them was palpable, a fierce undercurrent that drove both of them to play harder, push further, as if they were the only two players on the field.

At one point, Sebastian managed a particularly tricky feint, darting around Garreth and hurtling toward the Gryffindor goalposts. Evie’s heart skipped as she saw the perfect opening, a Bludger rolling her way at just the right angle. Without hesitation, she swung her bat with all her might, sending it careening toward him.

Sebastian glanced up as the Bludger whizzed past him, close enough to ruffle his hair and make him veer sharply off course. He managed to hang onto his broom, but the Quaffle slipped from his grasp, allowing a Gryffindor chaser to swoop in and snatch it up.

The Gryffindor stands erupted in cheers as the chaser scored moments later, giving them a narrow lead.

Sebastian shot her a look, equal parts impressed and exasperated, as he flew by. “Close call, Sterling. But you’ve got to try harder than that if you want to take me down."

She arched an eyebrow, her tone daring. “Oh, I intend to.”

As the game wore on, the competition grew fiercer, the tension in the air thicker with each passing minute. Gryffindor’s narrow lead only fueled the Slytherin team’s aggression, and soon the match turned into a veritable battlefield. Bludgers were flying faster and closer, Quaffles exchanged hands with increasing desperation, and players from both teams began crowding one another, pushing the limits of what Madam Kogawa would tolerate.

Evie narrowed her eyes, her focus sharpening as she realized the Slytherin beaters had started aiming more directly at Gryffindor players without the Quaffle. Her fellow beater, a broad shouldered sixth-year named Alan, met her gaze with a nod of shared understanding. They’d have to go all-in to keep their teammates safe.

Her attention snapped to Garreth, who had just intercepted a pass from Sebastian and was now barreling down the field. But a Bludger from a Slytherin beater rocketed toward him, seemingly out of nowhere. Evie dove after it, swinging her bat with precision and sending the Bludger spiraling off course before it could make impact.

“Nice save!” Garreth called, his face flushed with exhilaration.

“Don’t celebrate yet!” she replied, her gaze flicking back to Sebastian, who was maneuvering around her with an almost predatory focus. He caught her watching him and gave her a quick, teasing salute before diving down after the Quaffle, swerving dangerously close to one of the Gryffindor chasers in his path.

Evie clenched her teeth, eyes narrowing. “Oh, it’s like that, is it?” she muttered under her breath. She wasn’t about to let him get away with roughing up her teammates, not without giving him a little taste of his own medicine.

The next time a Bludger came her way, she adjusted her grip and aimed right at Sebastian, who was heading for Gryffindor’s goalposts again, the Quaffle tucked under his arm. She swung hard, sending the Bludger straight toward him. He noticed it at the last second, dodging just in time—but her aim forced him to swerve, and he lost momentum, giving the Gryffindor Keeper just enough time to intercept his shot.

The match teetered on the edge of complete chaos when Erwin Stone, one of Slytherin’s chasers, jostled Evie with a deliberate elbow to the ribs. The blow hit hard, knocking her off balance as her broom wobbled dangerously. Gasps and boos erupted from the stands, but all of it faded into white noise for Evie. Her fingers scrambled to maintain their grip as she slid toward the end of her broom, the open air beneath her a terrifying void.

The pain in her ribs was sharp and unforgiving, every breath a struggle as she clung to the broomstick with trembling arms. Her heart thundered in her chest, the world spinning around her as she fought to hold on.

The pitch descended into pandemonium. Gryffindor and Slytherin players collided mid-air, a storm of shouts and flying fists breaking out as Madam Kogawa’s whistle cut sharply through the chaos. It did little to quell the growing uproar.

Alan, the Gryffindor keeper, had charged straight for Erwin, his face contorted in fury as he shouted something lost in the roar of the crowd. Other players joined the fray, broomsticks clashing as red and green robes blurred together.

Above it all, Evie struggled against gravity’s pull. Her ribs throbbed from the impact, and the strain in her arms burned hotter with every passing second. She gritted her teeth, trying to muster the strength to haul herself back onto her broom.

Through the melee, she caught sight of Garreth and Imelda locked in a furious shouting match, circling each other like predators sizing up their prey. The teams had fractured into rival factions, each defending their own, the match forgotten in the heat of their animosity.

And then there was Sebastian.

He wasn’t with the others. Instead, he had broken away from the brawl, his broom slicing through the chaos with purpose. His dark eyes locked onto her, the usual playfulness gone, replaced by something sharper. Concern etched deep lines into his face, his expression shifting from irritation to unmistakable worry as he realized the danger she was in.

“Evie, hold on!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the din as he sped toward her.

“I’m trying!” Evie gasped, gritting her teeth as she fought to swing her leg back over the broom. Her fingers were slipping, the ground an uncomfortably distant blur below.

“Don’t you dare let go,” Sebastian growled, reaching her just in time. He looped an arm firmly around her waist and hauled her back onto her broom with ease. She clung to him for a moment, her breaths coming fast and shallow as she steadied herself, her heart still pounding.

“Got you,” he murmured, his voice low, steady. His eyes searched hers, his grip lingering just long enough to reassure her. “Are you hurt?”

Evie felt a flush creep up her cheeks, her pulse racing not just from the close call but from the solid warmth of his arm around her. She managed a shaky grin despite herself. “Just a bruised rib—or ego. Take your pick.”

Sebastian exhaled sharply, his expression a mix of relief and frustration. “Merlin’s sake, Sterling. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

She scoffed, gingerly rubbing her side where the chaser’s elbow had connected. “Blame your teammate for playing dirty, not me,” she retorted, though there was a note of gratitude beneath her words that softened the edge.

His gaze darkened as he glanced back down at the pitch, his expression hardening when he spotted Erwin in the middle of the chaos. Gryffindor and Slytherin players were still at each other’s throats—Alan had just landed a solid shove on Erwin, and Garreth and Imelda looked seconds away from tackling each other mid-air.

“That elbow was completely out of line,” Sebastian muttered, his jaw tight. “If Alan doesn’t break Stone’s nose, I will.”

Evie arched an eyebrow at him, half amused, half exasperated. “You’re not seriously going to fight your own teammate, are you?”

He didn’t look away from Erwin, his expression steely. “For you? Without question.”

Her heart gave a sudden, treacherous flutter at his words, a warmth spreading through her chest that had nothing to do with the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. She quickly glanced away, pressing her lips together to suppress the smile that threatened to give her away.

As much as she hated to admit it, there was something about the fierce protectiveness in Sebastian’s voice that sent her stomach into an unexpected tumble, even if sometimes it could be bloody annoying. And for just a moment, she was grateful Alaric wasn’t in the stands to witness the telltale blush creeping up her neck. She didn’t want to think about how difficult it would be to explain what that meant.

Madam Kogawa’s sharp, furious whistle blasted through the chaos once more, breaking the moment. Everyone paused mid-action as the sound echoed across the pitch, and one by one, the players halted their scuffles, each of them reluctantly drifting back to hover in place, panting and scowling.

“That’s quite enough!” she barked, her voice carrying effortlessly across the pitch. “I will not tolerate another display like this. If anyone so much as looks at another player the wrong way, you’ll be sitting in detention for the rest of term!”

The crowd’s jeers and laughter died down, and the players exchanged a series of sheepish glances, adrenaline gradually ebbing. Evie adjusted her grip on her broom, giving Sebastian a sidelong glance as he hovered beside her.

“Thanks for the save,” she murmured, her voice just loud enough for him to hear.

He tilted his head, his expression softening as he gave her a small, genuine smile. “Anytime.”

Before she could respond, the whistle blew again, signaling the restart of the game. Evie took a deep breath, feeling the lingering ache in her ribs but determined to finish the match strong. She shot Sebastian one last look, her eyes glinting with renewed determination. “Back to being enemies, then?”

His smirk returned, and he gave her a salute. “Only for as long as this game lasts.”

The Quaffle was released once more, and both teams surged forward, their focus honed on victory. Evie’s ribs protested with each movement, but she pushed through the discomfort, her eyes darting around the pitch as she sought her next target.

As the minutes ticked by, the game’s intensity returned with full force. With Gryffindor holding a narrow lead and the Snitch still nowhere to be seen, every player was on edge, pushing themselves to the limit. Sebastian darted past her again, this time without a taunt or wink, his focus absolute as he lined up his shot on the Gryffindor goalposts.

Evie felt a surge of pride and frustration as she watched him—pride because he was Sebastian, her best friend and a brilliant chaser, and frustration because, well, he was a Slytherin. She wouldn’t let him take this shot unchallenged.

Gritting her teeth, she sent a Bludger hurtling his way. It whizzed toward Sebastian with pinpoint accuracy, but before it could reach him, a Slytherin beater swooped in and intercepted it with a powerful swing, sending the Bludger rocketing back in the opposite direction. Evie cursed under her breath, but she couldn’t dwell on it for long. Rhys’s interference gave Sebastian the perfect opening.

In one fluid motion, Sebastian tucked the Quaffle under his arm and leaned forward, urging his broom into a breakaway. His movements were quick, his flight graceful as he weaved between Gryffindor players, dodging their last-ditch attempts to block his path. The Slytherin stands erupted with cheers, the green and silver banners waving wildly as Sebastian tore down the pitch, his eyes trained on the Gryffindor goalposts with single-minded determination.

Evie pushed her broom to its limit, following close behind, determined not to let him get away with an easy shot. She weaved around another player, her focus set on closing the distance, but Sebastian’s head start and speed proved a challenge. He knew she was behind him, likely felt the intensity of her pursuit, but he didn’t look back. He had his opening, and he wasn’t about to waste it.

“Come on,” Evie muttered under her breath, her gaze flicking to the Gryffindor Keeper, a fourth-year with a nervous expression but a solid track record. He hovered just before the goalposts, his stance tense as he watched Sebastian approach with increasing speed.

With every ounce of strength she had, Evie urged her broom forward, inch by inch closing the gap. The wind whipped past her ears, her heartbeat echoing the wild cheers and shouts from the stands, but her focus was razor-sharp, her gaze locked on Sebastian’s form as he leaned forward, honing in on the goalposts.

Just as he prepared to throw, Evie shot forward, her broom gliding seamlessly into position beside his. She matched his speed, her arm brushing against his as she nudged him, trying to throw him off balance. Beside her, Sebastian's expression hardened, a competitive fire practically crackling in the air between them.

She pressed her shoulder into him, trying to veer him off his trajectory, but Sebastian countered with equal force, leaning back against her. Their brooms wobbled precariously as they jostled in mid-air, each refusing to give the other an inch. They were neck-and-neck, bodies pressed so closely that she could feel the warmth radiating off him, smell the faint scent of fresh grass and broom polish.

“Persistent, aren’t you?” he shouted, just loud enough for her to hear over the rush of wind. There was an edge to his voice, something teasing but undeniably impressed.

"Very."

With a sly grin, Evie pulled back suddenly, leaving a gap between them. Sebastian, who had been leaning hard into her for balance, lurched forward, momentarily thrown off course. His eyes widened in surprise as he lost his steady grip on the Quaffle, his balance thrown by the unexpected space.

In that split second, Evie darted forward, snatching the Quaffle out of his hands with a triumphant laugh. She caught his incredulous expression as she tucked the ball securely under her arm, her heart pounding with exhilaration. "Thanks for the assist, Sallow!" she shouted over her shoulder, shooting him a wink before diving toward the Slytherin end of the pitch.

She heard his frustrated groan behind her, mingling with the roar of the Gryffindor stands as she zigzagged down the field, keeping the Quaffle close. Her ribs still throbbed from earlier, but she pushed the pain aside. Just a few meters away, she heard Sebastian’s broom closing the distance, his presence like a shadow hot on her heels.

Evie’s eyes darted to the goalposts looming ahead, and for a split second, doubt crept in—she was a Beater, not a Chaser, and rarely found herself in a position to score. But with her teammates forming a protective barrier around her and the Slytherin Keeper slightly out of position, an opening presented itself, too tempting to ignore.

She raised the Quaffle, aiming for the center hoop. Just as she was about to throw, she felt Sebastian’s hand brush against hers, his voice low and challenging.

"Not today, Sterling," he growled, his fingers attempting to knock the Quaffle from her grip.

And that's when she heard a heavy thud.

Evie’s heart stopped at the sound as a Bludger slammed into Sebastian’s side, catching him just below the shoulder. His grip on his broom faltered instantly, and in that split second, Evie saw the flash of pain and surprise in his eyes as he began to fall, his broom spiraling out of control beneath him.

Time seemed to freeze. She had the Quaffle clutched in her hands, the goalposts just within reach, and Garreth positioned a few feet away, eyes wide as he watched the scene unfold. The crowd’s cheers faded to a dull roar in her ears, and all she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat pounding as Sebastian plummeted, his form slipping farther and farther below.

Without a second thought, she flung the Quaffle toward Garreth, her voice sharp and frantic. “Garreth, catch!”

He barely registered her shout before grabbing the Quaffle mid-air, his eyes flicking between her and Sebastian in confusion. But Evie didn’t have time to explain. She was already diving, her broom pointed downward, as she tore through the air after her best friend.

“Sebastian!” she called, her voice barely carrying over the wind as she urged her broom faster, the ground below racing up to meet them both. She could see him clearly now, his body twisted, his hand clutching at his side where the Bludger had struck, his usually confident face a mask of pain.

She narrowed her focus, ignoring the protests from her own aching ribs, and positioned herself just above him, reaching out as the two of them plummeted toward the ground. With one final, desperate push, she caught up to him, her fingers finding the collar of his uniform. Gritting her teeth, she braced herself and pulled him toward her as they continued their downward plunge.

The broom struggled under their combined weight, wobbling dangerously as she forced it to slow, the ground rushing up alarmingly fast. Evie could feel her arms shaking, every muscle straining to hold onto him and the broom as she finally managed to level them out, mere feet above the ground.

They hit the pitch with a jarring, skidding halt, grass and dirt flying up around them. Evie lost her grip on her broom, tumbling hard to the ground with Sebastian's weight half-draped over her. His larger frame knocked the wind out of her, leaving her ribs aching as she struggled to catch her breath. But all she could focus on was Sebastian's face just inches from hers, his shallow breaths mingling with her own as he lay against her.

“Sebastian?” she managed, fighting to get air back in her lungs as her her hand instinctively moving to brush his hair out of his face. “Are you alright?”

His eyes blinked open, and for a moment, they held a dazed, unfocused look. Then, gradually, his gaze sharpened, and he found her face. Despite the pain evident in his expression, he managed a small, crooked grin.

“Should’ve… known you’d pull off something dramatic to steal the spotlight,” he replied, his voice laced with faint amusement.

Evie let out a shaky laugh, relief washing over her as the tension in her shoulders eased. She kept her hand resting against his cheek, thumb grazing his skin as she took in the fact that he was safe, and somehow still teasing her despite everything.

The sound of cheers swelled around them, louder and more triumphant than anything Evie had heard all match. For a moment, she thought it was all for Sebastian’s safe landing, but then she saw Garreth fist-pumping in the air, the Quaffle in his hand as he looked toward her, a beaming grin plastered on his face. Beside him, the Gryffindor Seeker held the Snitch triumphantly aloft, its tiny golden wings flapping wildly.

They’d won.

Evie’s laughter bubbled up, a blend of relief and exhilaration. She looked back at Sebastian, whose face had shifted from amusement to mild irritation as he realized the match’s outcome. His jaw clenched, but his eyes softened as he took in her laughing face, his own grin finally breaking through.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, attempting to sit up but wincing as he did so.

Evie snorted, rolling her eyes as she helped him sit up carefully. "Better luck next time."

The two teams descended upon them, Gryffindors cheering wildly as they lifted Evie to her feet, clapping her on the back with congratulatory grins, while the Slytherins grumbled, a few of them muttering darkly under their breath as they helped Sebastian stand. Alan gave her an exuberant thumbs-up, while Garreth was already raving about her last-minute interception.

Sebastian, still standing beside her, watched the celebration with a resigned expression, though his gaze flickered to Evie with a faint smile that suggested he wasn’t entirely displeased. “You know this is only going to make me more competitive,” he murmured, his voice just loud enough for her to hear amidst the cheers.

Evie smirked, crossing her arms as she looked up at him. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Sallow.”

Before he could reply, Madam Kogawa approached, her stern expression cutting through the celebratory atmosphere. She gave both teams a pointed look before her gaze shifted to Sebastian and Evie.

“Well, I hope you’re both proud of yourselves,” she began, arms crossed over her chest. “A display of skill, I’ll admit—but reckless.” She eyed the way both Sebastian and Evangeline had hands pressed to their injured sides, her face softening ever so slightly.

“Miss Sterling, Mr. Sallow—you’ll be checked for injuries immediately. And as for the rest of you,” she added, her gaze sweeping over the Gryffindors and Slytherins alike, “I expect better sportsmanship next time, or there will be consequences.”

Evie and Sebastian shared a knowing look, amusement dancing in both their eyes even as they nodded solemnly.

“Yes, Madam Kogawa,” they chorused, unable to hide their smirks.

With a resigned sigh, Madam Kogawa rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath as she gestured for them to follow. Evie shot Garreth and the others a quick wave before following Sebastian, her ribs aching but her spirits high.

The walk to the hospital wing was surprisingly quiet, the two of them walking side by side, the sounds of the fading celebrations echoing behind them. Sebastian glanced over at her, his mouth twitching with a suppressed grin. “So, what’s the tally now? That makes it—”

“Four Gryffindor wins in a row since last year,” she finished, nudging him with her elbow. “So much for all your bragging, Sallow.”

He laughed, wincing slightly as he adjusted his hold on his side. “You were lucky. If that Bludger hadn’t hit me, you wouldn't have scored.”

Evie snorted, shaking her head. “Lucky? I think I'd call call it strategy. Can’t help it if you didn’t see it coming.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, a familiar mischievous glint flashing in his gaze. “Right. Strategic chaos. Let’s see if that holds up next time.”

They continued their lighthearted bickering as they reached the hospital wing, where Madam Blainey was already waiting with her arms crossed, lips pursed in exasperation. “Of course it’s you two,” she sighed, gesturing for them to take seats on the nearest beds. “Every match, without fail. Well then, let’s see the damage.”

Evie and Sebastian exchanged a quick, amused glance as they took their seats, both trying to stifle grins. Madam Blainey immediately set to work, inspecting Sebastian’s bruised side first. He grimaced as her hands pressed around his ribs, but his gaze kept drifting to Evie, who sat watching him with a triumphant smirk.

“Oh, I see,” he muttered, raising an eyebrow at her. “You find my suffering amusing?”

Evie chuckled, crossing her arms. “Don’t be dramatic. I seem to recall you claiming you live for this.”

“True,” he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk. “But you don’t have to enjoy it so much.”

Madam Blainey rolled her eyes, handing him a bright purple potion. “Drink, Mr. Sallow, and try to keep the chatter to a minimum,” she instructed before turning to Evie. As Blainey examined her ribs, Evie caught Sebastian’s eye again, his smirk softened into something more genuine, almost affectionate.

“Just bruised, nothing broken,” Madam Blainey said, reaching for a vial of the same purple potion. She handed it to Evie and gave them both a long-suffering look. “No Quidditch antics for at least a few days."

“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused, attempting to sound remorseful but both failing miserably.

Once they were dismissed, Evie stretched carefully, rolling her shoulders and glancing sidelong at Sebastian. “Guess I’ll have to go easy on you next scrimmage. Wouldn’t want Madam Blainey getting even more cross.”

Sebastian chuckled as they strolled out of the hospital wing together, glancing down at his rumpled, dirt-streaked uniform. “You know, you could’ve softened that landing a bit. I don't think I'll be able to get these grass stains out,” he complained, though the smirk on his face suggested he wasn’t entirely serious.

Evie rolled her eyes, giving him a playful nudge. “You’re lucky I caught you at all. You weigh about a billion pounds."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “A billion pounds? Please. I’m perfectly aerodynamic. Besides, it’s hardly my fault you lack upper body strength.”

Evie scoffed, her eyes glinting with playful challenge. “Oh, I could’ve caught you just fine if you’d been a little more… cooperative.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Right, right. Next time, I’ll fall a bit slower to make things easier for you.”

“Next time, just make sure I don’t have to catch you at all,” she shot back, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.

They reached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, pausing as Evie pulled off her gloves. “Alright, I’m off to change and salvage what’s left of my uniform. I’ll meet you and Ominis in the Undercroft?”

Sebastian nodded, grinning. “Try not to take too long. I’d hate to leave him waiting, though I’m sure he’ll have plenty to say about today’s ‘reckless behavior.’”

Evie chuckled. “At least he won’t be surprised. See you soon."

Once in her dormitory, she slipped out of her uniform, wincing slightly as she stretched her arms, the ache in her ribs still lingering. She changed into something more comfortable—a soft gray jumper that hung just past her hips and a pair of dark trousers that allowed her to move freely. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she noticed her own dirt-streaked cheeks and quickly scrubbed her face with a damp cloth, brushing her fingers through her tangled hair to make herself at least somewhat presentable.

Evie grabbed a spare tote bag, intending to make a quick detour to the kitchens. She knew Sebastian would appreciate the gesture, especially since post-Quidditch dinners were a bit of a tradition. The house-elves greeted her warmly, and with a few whispered requests, they handed her a bundle of wrapped pastries, a flask of hot chocolate, and an assortment of treats for the three of them to enjoy.

As she made her way through the castle, her thoughts wandered back to the match, particularly to how Sebastian's face had looked only inches from hers. In her mind's eye, she could see every freckle on his dirt-streaked cheeks, his tousled hair from the match, and that look in his deep eyes—some mix of exasperation and affection—had her chest filling with warmth. She could almost hear his teasing voice in her head, could almost feel the weight of his arm steadying her as she rebalanced herself on her broom.

Evie shook her head, trying to banish the lingering image of Sebastian’s grin and the warmth that stubbornly clung to her chest. This is ridiculous, she scolded herself, her grip tightening on the tote bag as her pace quickened. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Sebastian.

But no matter how much she tried to refocus her mind on Alaric, it kept wandering back to the way Sebastian had muttered, “For you? Without question”, his voice so low and certain that it had sent an unbidden flush to her cheeks. Or the way his laughter had echoed in the hospital wing, light and carefree, making it impossible not to smile along with him. Or how he’d looked sprawled out on the pitch, dirt streaked across his face and utterly unbothered by the commotion around them, his eyes locked on hers as if nothing else existed.

Evie groaned under her breath, annoyed at herself. Stop it. This is exactly why you agreed to go out with Alaric in the first place—to move on. To stop letting Sebastian Sallow take up so much space in your damn head.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she nearly missed the entrance to the Undercroft. Pausing for a moment, she took a deep breath, willing herself to focus. It was just Sebastian, after all—her best friend, her partner in crime. But as she pushed open the door and spotted him waiting, lounging against one of the pillars with that familiar, insufferable smirk, she felt her heart skip a beat. For all their teasing, she knew she’d fall for that grin every time.

Ominis raised an eyebrow as she entered, his lips curving into a knowing smile. “Ah, Evangeline. I was wondering when you’d finally show up. Sebastian was starting to look restless.”

Sebastian straightened, his eyes lighting up as he noticed the treats peeking out of her tote bag. “I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost."

Evie rolled her eyes, pulling out the pastries and hot chocolate. “Blame the house-elves for spoiling us,” she replied, setting everything down with a grin.

Sebastian chuckled, reaching for a pastry, but his gaze lingered on her a moment longer, a hint of something unspoken in his eyes. “Guess I’ll let it slide.”

As they settled into their usual spots, the banter flowed as easily as ever, with each laugh and teasing comment deepening the warmth that Evie felt in their company. She and Sebastian exchanged playful jabs over the match, and Ominis, sipping his hot chocolate with an amused smirk, was clearly enjoying every second of their back-and-forth.

Finally, Ominis set his mug down with a chuckle, shaking his head. “You know, Evie, you should have gone for the goal instead of catching Sebastian."

Evie scoffed, giving him a mock glare. “Oh, come on. As if I’d just let him fall.”

Sebastian snickered, leaning back against the stone wall with his signature smirk. “Please, Ominis. You think she’d actually score on Slytherin? She’d have found some way to miss."

She rolled her eyes, "Keep telling yourself that."

After a while, the three of them had eaten their fill, their laughter fading into a comfortable silence as they sprawled out on the cool stone floor of the Undercroft. Evie rested with her hands folded behind her head, her gaze fixed on the cracked ceiling above. The faint ache in her ribs was still there, but it was overshadowed by the rare sense of calm that settled over her. Beside her, Sebastian lay in a similar position, arms tucked behind his head, just close enough that she could feel the subtle warmth of his presence in the chilly room.

She was quietly grateful for the unspoken agreement between them to avoid the heavier topics that had plagued them recently. For tonight, at least, it felt good to just be—no questions, no weighty conversations, just the steady companionship of the two people she trusted most.

Sebastian broke the silence with a chuckle. “Did you hear about what happened to Garreth in Potions yesterday?”

Evie turned her head, a grin tugging at her lips. “Please tell me he didn’t blow something up again.”

Sebastian snorted. “Even better. He managed to enchant one of Professor Sharp’s cauldrons so that every time anyone added an ingredient, it let out a… rather unflattering raspberry sound.”

Evie burst into laughter, imagining the scene. “Oh no, I bet Sharp was thrilled about that.”

“Thrilled isn’t the word I’d use,” Sebastian replied, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “He confiscated Garreth’s entire stash of potion ingredients and gave him detention for a week. He tried to claim it was an experiment gone wrong, but Sharp wasn’t buying it.”

Evie shook her head, stifling another laugh. “I swear, that boy will get himself banned from the Potions classroom before graduation.”

“He’s creative, I’ll give him that,” Sebastian said, smirking. “Though maybe a little too creative for his own good.”

They shared a conspiratorial grin, both picturing Garreth’s usual antics, and then another silence settled over them, warm and comfortable. Evie let her gaze drift back to the ceiling, feeling her smile linger as she thought about all the ridiculous moments she’d shared with her two favourite boys.

“So,” Ominis murmured from where he sat with his book, “I overheard Violet talking about Evie the other day.”

Evie raised an eyebrow, glancing over at him. “Oh? Should I be concerned?”

“Depends,” he replied, giving her a sidelong look, “She was saying you turned down Leander’s offer to go to Hogsmeade next weekend.”

Evie let out a sigh, rolling her eyes. “Yes, he asked. Again.”

“Poor Leander,” Sebastian snorted with a dramatic shake of his head. “You’ve crushed his hopes so many times, he’ll have to start carrying the pieces around in a bag.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Honestly, I’m starting to feel bad. He just doesn’t take a hint."

Sebastian’s smirk softened, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. “Maybe he thinks persistence will win you over.”

Evie tilted her head, giving him a bemused look. “I suppose I can’t fault him for that. But I've literally been going on dates with another man, how can I make it any more clear?”

"Leander’s nice enough,” Ominis replied, amusement in his voice. “but he’s not exactly the brightest when it comes to this, is he? Nor subtle.”

Evie laughed. “Not in the slightest. I think he’s tried everything short of composing a sonnet to convince me.”

“Oh Merlin, don’t give him any ideas,” Sebastian groaned, “Knowing Leander, he’d probably read you a poem under the stars and then expect you to be completely smitten.”

Evie rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help but smile. “I’d probably laugh him right off the Astronomy Tower.”

Ominis chuckled softly, closing his book with a snap and stretching his legs out in front of him. “Well. As much as I’d love to stay and hear more tales of Leander’s failed attempts at wooing, I’m afraid I have some overdue reading to finish before tomorrow.”

Evie tilted her head at him, smirking. “Overdue reading? You? That’s a first.”

Ominis shrugged, standing and dusting off his robes. “Believe it or not, even I am occasionally distracted. Things haven't exactly been... normal, lately."

Evie’s smirk softened at Ominis’s words, her teasing demeanor giving way to quiet understanding. But she didn't get a chance to speak before Ominis cleared his throat, his expression schooling back into its usual calm.

“Anyway,” he said, his tone lightening slightly, “try not to get into too much trouble while I’m gone. And do try to avoid any more reckless stunts involving falling off brooms.”

Sebastian grinned from where he lounged against the wall, his arms folded lazily. “You know us, Ominis. Reckless is what we do best.”

Ominis raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “Yes, well. Do try to survive without me.”

Evie snorted, waving him off as he made his way toward the entrance. “We’ll try not to miss you too much.”

“Doubtful,” Ominis replied dryly, casting one last amused glance over his shoulder before disappearing through the door. The soft click of it closing left an immediate stillness in the Undercroft.

For a moment, Evie and Sebastian were silent, the echoes of their earlier laughter fading into the quiet. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting out a slow breath, while Sebastian stretched, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

Eventually, he broke the quiet that neither of them seemed in a hurry to fill. “So,” he began, not looking at her, “how was London?”

Evie blinked, glancing down at him. “What?”

“Your date last week,” he clarified, his eyes still trained on the ceiling. “I didn’t get a chance to ask, since...”

Evie hesitated, her stomach doing a strange little flip. She hadn’t expected him to bring it up, let alone sound so casual about it. “Oh. Yeah."

“And?” he prompted, sitting up slightly now, leaning back on his elbows. His expression was casual, but there was something almost too neutral about it, like he was trying a bit too hard to act uninterested.

She shrugged, her gaze shifting away as she fiddled with the hem of her sleeve. “It was nice. He took me to a fancy little cafe. It was nice, he's nice... it was just... different."

Sebastian tilted his head, studying her. “Different how?”

Evie hesitated again, searching for the right words. “I don’t know. Just... I've never done anything like it before."

He frowned slightly, his brow furrowing. “You didn’t enjoy it?”

“I didn’t say that,” she replied quickly, shaking her head. “It was lovely, really. He’s... nice.”

Sebastian arched an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “You’ve said that twice now.”

Evie huffed, crossing her arms. “What do you want me to say, Sebastian? It’s all so... new. He’s smart and charming, and he’s—”

“Nice,” Sebastian finished for her, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

She rolled her eyes, though a faint smile betrayed her amusement. “Yes.”

Sebastian’s smirk widened as he leaned back further, clearly enjoying the playful banter. “So, did you get to put any of that useful knowledge you gained from that book last year into practice?” he asked, his voice light but with a teasing edge.

Evie’s heart skipped in her chest, and she could feel her cheeks warming instantly. Her eyes darted away from him, unwilling to meet his gaze as she fiddled nervously with the edge of her sleeve. “What book?” she muttered, but her voice came out a little more breathless than she intended.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Oh, come on, don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” He sat up fully now, leaning toward her just enough to make his teasing more pronounced. “Intimacies and Affections: A Guide to Healthy Romances. You really think I’d forget that one? It’s practically a classic.”

Evie swallowed hard, the memory of Alaric’s smile, the soft murmur of his voice as they’d shared a quiet evening, and the way things had escalated between them coming rushing back. The vivid image of tangled sheets and lingering touches made her stomach twist, and she felt a strange mix of embarrassment and excitement at the thought.

Sebastian, far too aware of Evangeline's expressions, instantly noticed the way her brow furrowed and her cheeks flamed with color. His teasing smirk faded into something more guarded, though he still kept his tone casual. “Evie,” he said, attempting to sound casual though a hint of concern threaded its way through his words, “you’re blushing. You didn’t… actually try anything from the book with him, did you?”

The question lingered in the air between them, his voice unusually soft as he studied her. Evie opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her hesitation was a quiet confirmation, and Sebastian felt the sharp stab of jealousy twist in his gut. He hadn’t even realized how desperately he’d been hoping—no, wanting—for her to answer differently. For her to dismiss it as just a silly book, or to say she hadn’t gone there with Alaric. But she had, hadn’t she? And with someone else. The thought struck Sebastian like curse.

He swallowed hard, fixing his gaze onto the stone wall, "So you did—” he paused, his mind racing, before he continued, his tone strangely light despite the cold knot in his stomach, “—You know... get a little... handsy. With him.”

Evangeline's fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, tugging at the fabric. "Yes," she said, the word slipping out quietly, almost shyly.

"Oh—" Sebastian cleared his throat in an attempt to cover up the strangled sound that had caught in his throat. "So... how, um. How was it?"

He knew he should stop asking questions. He was only digging his own grave, only making it worse. But he couldn’t stop. His mind was racing, his heart pounding louder than he cared to admit. He wanted to hear it, to understand how it had happened, even though every word she spoke felt like a fresh wound in his chest. The jealousy gnawed at him, sharp and unforgiving, but he couldn’t help himself.

Evangeline chuckled quietly, hazel eyes flicking towards him as her flush deepened. "I, um... well I don't have anything else to compare it to but I..." she swallowed, averting her gaze now. "It was... nice."

The word “nice” settled heavily in the space between them again, the weight of it somehow more suffocating than anything else she could have said. Sebastian’s stomach twisted painfully, and he could feel the rush of jealousy flood through him, cold and unrelenting. Nice. It was a simple, harmless word, but in this context, it felt like a betrayal.

He swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he fought to keep his voice steady. He knew—he knew—he couldn’t expect her to stay untouched. They were adults, after all, and she didn't even reciprocate Sebastian's feelings. But the thought that Alaric had been her first for something intimate, that he had been the one to guide her into this part of her life, stung. It stung in a way he didn’t know how to handle, in a way that made his chest tighten and his mind race with things he didn’t want to think about.

Sebastian felt his breath catch in his throat, but the question tumbled out before he could stop it. “Did you... did you have sex?” His voice was rough, quieter than he intended, as if asking would somehow make it less painful. He hated himself for needing to know, but he couldn’t help it. The question lingered, his words hanging in the air, like a challenge to both of them.

Evangeline’s eyes snapped up to meet his, "What?! No—" she huffed an incredulous laugh, "Sebastian, do you really think I... we're not even officially courting."

Sebastian’s stomach dropped at her words, the relief he’d felt at her rejection of the idea crashing over him in waves. But the sting was still there, lingering beneath the surface, deep in his chest. He had to swallow the lump in his throat, forcing the words that followed to sound as casual as possible, though his heart was pounding too loudly to make them feel anything but hollow.

“I—sorry. I just... I didn’t know how far things had gone.” His voice was tight, more bitter than he intended. “I—” He tried to continue, “I didn’t mean to—” He wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for. It wasn’t the question itself, but the way it had sounded. “I don’t know why I’m even—” He exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Evangeline was watching him now, her expression unreadable, but there was something about the way she looked at him that made his discomfort grow. She seemed... concerned?

"Is... that what you do? With... Chelsea?"

Sebastian’s smirk wavered, his posture stiffening slightly, grappling with the fact that the tables has suddenly turned. “Chelsea?”

Evie nodded, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “Yeah. You... you've been spending quite a lot of time together. At night."

Sebastian's stomach churned at the mention of the Hufflepuff, and his mind immediately raced to find the right words—the right defense. He couldn't let himself get tangled up in this.

"No," he said quickly, the word sharper than he intended. He didn’t want to dwell on Chelsea, didn’t want to think about that at all, especially not now. "It’s nothing like that. Chelsea and I are just... casual. We’re not serious or anything." He forced a casual shrug, trying to downplay it, though he could feel the defensiveness creeping into his voice. “It’s just... a bit of fun, that’s all. Nothing to get worked up over.”

Evangeline’s gaze didn’t waver from him, but there was something unreadable in her eyes. “Not serious... why not?” she asked.

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before he looked back at her. "She's... I don't feel that way for her." he shrugged, "I told her from the start we were just... keeping it casual,” Sebastian finished, his voice quieter now. He shrugged again, though it looked forced, like he was trying to brush it off as no big deal. “I think she wants more, though."

Evangeline swallowed hard, fixing her gaze onto her hands as she fiddled with her sleeve. "And... you don't?"

Sebastian quickly shook his head, letting out a huff as if even the thought were funny. "No, not with her."

"Then with who?"

Sebastian blinked, and for a moment, his usual confidence slipped, and a flicker of vulnerability crossed his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out at first. He hadn’t expected her to ask that, not so directly, and certainly not with that edge of curiosity in her voice. The question cut through him in a way that made him feel exposed, vulnerable, like she was peeling back layers he wasn’t ready to show.

“I... I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice softer than before, uncertain. “I mean, I haven’t... really thought about it,” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to collect his thoughts. “It’s not like I’m... looking for something, Evie. With her, or with anyone else. I told you, it’s just... a way to... keep my mind off of things.”

Evie tilted her head, studying him, her brow furrowing. “You haven’t thought about it? Not even a little?”

He forced a casual shrug, his eyes flicking to her briefly before settling on the wall. “It’s not exactly top of mind these days, Evie. You know, what with everything else going on. The Ministry, Quidditch, keeping Garreth from blowing up the Potions classroom…”

The deflection was obvious, and Sebastian knew Evie wasn’t buying it, but she didn't press any further.

"I get that," she said quietly, her voice soft and understanding. “It’s been... a lot. For all of us.”

Sebastian glanced at her, his posture relaxing slightly, though the tension in his jaw hadn’t fully eased. “Yeah,” he muttered, his gaze flickering back to the ceiling. “Sometimes it feels like everything’s just... piling up.”

Evie nodded, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her sleeve. “Yeah. I know exactly what you mean.”

The silence that followed wasn’t as heavy as before, but it still carried an undercurrent of unspoken truths. The tension in Sebastian's shoulders loosened when Evie let out a quiet breath, leaning back against the floor.

“I guess it’s easier to keep busy,” she said after a moment, her tone reflective. “To pretend everything’s fine if you don’t stop long enough to think about it.”

Sebastian turned his head to look down at her, his expression softer now, less guarded. “You’ve been doing that too?”

She gave him a wry smile. “Me? No. I’m completely fine. Haven’t had a single existential crisis this week.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Evie rolled her eyes, though the corners of her mouth tugged upward. “But at least I’m good at distracting myself.”

Sebastian’s smile lingered, but inside, the familiar tension stirred once more.

He was good at distracting himself too. Good at losing himself in the routine of things—nights spent with Chelsea, or whoever else was willing to fill the void. A laugh, a touch, an easy smile. It was simple, it was uncomplicated, and it allowed him to forget. For a while, at least.

“Distractions aren’t always a bad thing,” he said quietly, almost as if to himself. "But... I guess they don’t really fix anything either.”

Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the air between them seemed to hum with a quiet intensity.

Evangeline looked away first, letting out a soft sigh. “You’re right,” she admitted, her voice soft. “They don’t.”

Sebastian laid back down beside her, his hands folded behind his head as he stared up at the cracked stone ceiling. "So... you think you and Alaric will start courting for real?" He asked quietly.

Evie turned her head slightly, her gaze flickering toward Sebastian as his question hung in the air. For a moment, she didn’t answer, letting the stillness settle around them. Her thoughts churned, tangled and complicated, as she considered what to say.

Alaric. On paper, he was everything she could want. He was charming, the kind of charming that felt effortless rather than calculated. He put her at ease in ways that surprised her, seeing through the layers she carefully constructed to keep herself guarded. When she was with him, she didn’t feel the need to prove herself or be someone she wasn’t. Alaric saw her—really saw her—and didn’t seem the least bit fazed by what he found.

He made her laugh, too, his easygoing nature cutting through the tension that had become a near-constant companion in her life. She liked him. She genuinely did. And yet...

Deep down, Evie knew the truth. A truth she’d been trying to change for months, but no matter how hard she tried, it remained unyielding, immovable.

Because even as she thought about Alaric, as she recalled the warmth in his smile or the way Alaric's eyes crinkled when he teased her, her mind strayed elsewhere. It strayed to the boy lying beside her now, his dark eyes focused on the cracked ceiling above, his hands tucked behind his head in a posture that seemed relaxed but was anything but.

Her feelings for Alaric were like the roots of a young sapling—shallow, fragile, and easily uprooted. They were new, tentative, growing in freshly tilled soil. But her feelings for Sebastian... They were old, deep, and stubborn, like an ancient tree that had woven itself so tightly into the earth that to remove it would mean tearing the ground apart entirely.

Evangeline knew she could no more rid herself of those feelings than she could remove her own heart. Loving Sebastian was tangled into the very fabric of who she was, a quiet, persistent ache that she had tried—and failed—to eliminate.

She turned her head slightly, her eyes catching Sebastian’s profile as he lay beside her, his face relaxed but his eyes distant, as if lost in his own thoughts. Her chest tightened, a familiar ache blooming.

"Maybe," she said at length, turning her gaze back to the ceiling. "He’s… a good person. Kind. And I... I like him."

"...you like him." Sebastian repeated, the words bitter on his tongue.

Evangeline hummed, "I do. I... guess I'll just see how things go."

Sebastian shifted beside her, his posture stiffening ever so slightly. His gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, but there was a tension in his jaw now, a subtle clenching that Evie wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t known him so well.

"Yeah," he said finally, his voice carefully neutral, almost too casual. "That’s... good. Alaric seems like the kind of bloke who’d treat you right. I’m happy for you."

Evie’s chest tightened, the simple statement hitting her with a weight she didn’t entirely understand. She wasn’t sure what she had expected him to say—something teasing, something dismissive—but this... this calmness, this almost too-polite response, felt wrong. It didn’t feel like him.

“Thanks,” she murmured, the word catching slightly in her throat. She turned her gaze back to the ceiling too, though her thoughts remained fixed on the boy beside her.

She wanted to say something—to break the stillness, to ask him what he was really thinking—but the words wouldn’t come.

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