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hidden-poet · 8 months ago

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Professor Snow

1/1

Summary; Coriolanus takes a position at the university teaching military theory where he develops an unhealthy crush on one of his students.

Warnings; unethical behavior, teacher/student relationship, stalker behavior, coercive control, dubish consent, reader is not very smart, obsessive behavior, kidnapping, reader isn't described or named.

Editor: @hotline-to-hell

After studying under Dr. Gaul, he took her place at the University.

She was only looking for a successor, and now that she had found one, she no longer wanted to waste time there. So Coriolanus became the University's military theory professor, in addition to his Gamemaking duties.

He hated the first year. If the pest of the day wasn’t some annoying boy who had never seen war talking about how he single-handedly would have defeated the districts, it was a young girl wanting to single out his attention.

But in his second year, an infatuation started to soften his days to something close to enjoyment.

She always sat alone, at the front, but rarely took any notes. At first, she jotted every word from Professor Snow, but by the end of the first month, her note-taking had stopped and she drew flowers upon the pages instead.

When Coriolanus put up a slide depicting the horrors of war he had witnessed, she winced. She was a delicate flower ready for debasing, and Coriolanus found himself protective of her.

He would catch a young boy staring at her occasionally, innocently or not, and would proceed to make an example out of him.

He would save her homework assignments to the end, eager to see her opinions and problem-solving. They were both terrible, but he passed her anyway. Her analysis lacked any original thought, she only regurgitated what previous men in power thought. Her disinterest in the class was evident, but he still wrote ‘great job’ on her papers only to see her smile.

It occurred to him, however, that if he kept passing her, he would no longer have her in his class. She was set to graduate at the end of the semester, and he might not see her again. So he began to fail her homework assignments and even essays that were worth a pass.

He watched her face as it sagged when she received her first fail. He hated to disappoint her, but it was for her own good. The longer she was in his class, the more she would warm to him.

She was embarrassed, hiding her paper in her book bag.

She began taking notes again in class. Their eyes would meet and Coriolanus could feel himself turn into putty every time she would glance up to look at him.

It happened twice, he would get so lost just staring at her that he forgot where he was going with his sentence or tune out a student asking him a question.

Twice was enough to decide that his little blossom had to come home with him, where he could give her the appreciation she deserved. He hated to see her so stressed out over these assignments. He wanted to kiss her brows as they furrowed trying to understand the content.

“It didn’t matter, darling. Don’t worry about it,” he wanted to say, but instead he put a red line through her work.

One lecture she did nothing but stare at him.

“Professor Snow?” She approached him timidly with her paper in her hands.

“Yes, honey?” It was not an appropriate way to address a student, but she was more than that.

“I was wondering if you could take another look at my paper?”

He took it from her soft hold and pretended to review it. She stood so close, he could smell her perfume.

“What about this deserves a higher grade?”

“I got nearly a zero, sir. I met all the criteria.”

“No. Hobbes and Rousseau met the criteria and you copied them. Philosophers I taught about in this class, so I have very little interest in re-reading them in your poor and clunky paraphrasing.”

Her shoulder dropped and tears welled in her eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He stood up from his chair and took her into his arms, yet another thing that would be disapproved of by the school board.

“I am sorry.” She sobbed. Her tears felt so good upon his shirt. He would have kept her there longer but she pulled away, embarrassed.

“I am sorry. I am being silly. It just seems like no matter how hard I try, I keep failing.” More tears run down her cheeks, making Coriolanus want to pull her back into his arms. He was left with no choice but to cross them over his chest.

“I tried so hard. I spent weeks on this assignment only to get four percent more than a person who never turned it in at all!”

“I understand, blossom, but I asked you what you thought about the constant state of war. Not what Hobbes thought.”

She nods her head looking defeated. Her body shifts to turn back to the door. He couldn’t let her leave upset with him.

He pulls her back by her arm and lifts her head up to his level, tipping up her chin.

“Hey, what do you think? Are people in a constant state of war with each other?”

He doesn’t remove his hands, liking their place.

She shrugs her shoulders, her voice small and meek, giving away how much she wanted to leave him.

“I don’t know. Hobbes said-”

“Forget Hobbes. What do you think would happen if we didn’t have laws governing us?”

He, for one, knows that he wouldn’t be wasting time asking philosophical questions that went over her head. He would pin her to the floor and have his way until his name was the only one she remembered, and then take her home to safety.

“I think people look for order. We would naturally form some type of governing system that would work for all.”

God, she was foolish.

“All people look for order? You don’t think anyone would hurt you if there were no repercussions?”

He could see he was scaring her so he backed off a bit. Letting his hands fall to his side.

“We live in the Capitol, sir. There’s no guarantee that they would be met with repercussions here.”

It was the first original thought he heard from her, and it wasn’t all the way incorrect. Corruption was prominent within the Capitol.

“I think people are good. Mostly. A few bad apples but…” she shrugs again, finishing her sentence before completion.

“And what should we do with the ‘bad apples’?”

What would she do to him?

Another shrug and her eyes go floating around the room.

“Help them, I guess.”

A grin spread across his face. She would comfort the wolf that ate her.

“Well,” he reaches across his desk for the paper and a pen. Although she was undeserving, he wrote a large A across the top. “I must say I disagree but the assignment is based on your perspective.”

He hands the paper to her who stands shocked, but with a great big smile across her face.

He would do anything to see her smile, even if it derailed his plans.

“Thank you, sir.”

His mind raced with ways to keep her close but the next class needed the room soon.

“You need extra help,” he takes his satchel off the floor and leads her to the door, “Come see me in my office on Tuesdays at 6.”

“I couldn’t sir. I wouldn’t want to be a burden.”

Coriolanus felt as though he might die if she didn’t agree to come.

“My measure as a teacher is based upon my worst performing student.”

He knew his words stung her and he hated to do it but soon he would only speak sweet words to her. Coddling her from the world they live in.

“I would be more than happy to have a one-on-one with you.”

—-------------

He dreamt of the upcoming Tuesday. The staff at the University were out for drinks and dinner so the office was always empty. He was completely alone with his girl. It made the long day worth it.

He sat next to her, too close, as he helped her complete his homework on his office desk.

She had asked him a question but it was lost upon his ears.

“Hm?” He hums absentmindedly, before clearing his throat and trying a harder and deeper ‘hm’.

“I am stuck on question 8.”

He leans over her to check the question.

“It’s C.”

“But why is it C?”

The question was simple, and Coriolanus was through with teaching for the day.

“The answer is just C.”

He gets up as she fills in the bubble.

“Are you hungry?” He asks.

“No, sir. Should I leave? I didn’t mean to interfere with your dinner.”

She goes to get up but she had only been there an hour. He wanted more time.

“Sit,” he told her, rushing over to hinder her chance of escape.

She doesn’t fight him, sitting down and dropping her homework back down.

“I’ll order something in. Finish your homework.”

He returns from his phone only to find that she had finished all her work.

Disappointment filled him. It would only take a few seconds to check it and then she would leave. He tries to act indifferent. Essay homework would now be given.

“Right, let's take a look.” With his guidance, the answers were all correct so his brain worked to make a reason to prolong her stay.

“Very good, angel,” he praised and she glowed under him.

“Now, your reading notes. I want to see that you picked up the right ideas.”

He holds his hand out. Praying that she had no notes to give him.

Her reaction told him she had not. Her shoulders shrunk, and her nose reddened.

“You did do your readings, did you not?” He teases.

“I was going to do it tomorrow morning,” she admits quietly.

He fakes disappointment. “Oh no, petal. That won’t do. I need to see that you are understanding the content. Readings are crucial to your learning.”

“I am sorry. I didn’t know you wanted me to have it done.”

He shakes his head although he could laugh giddily.

“Take your book out and begin.”

She looked like a kicked cat as she started her readings.

He remains close, marking other students' work next to her. He takes a break to retrieve the food when it arrives but her eyes never stray from the page.

The food was lukewarm and nothing special but he acted as if it was the best thing he had ever eaten.

He holds his fork out to her, hopeful but she politely declines, stating that she isn’t hungry.

“You’re going to make me eat alone?” He asks, already opening all the containers on the desk.

“I should really finish and go home. My parents are waiting for me.”

“You don’t live in student accommodation?” He knew this already but confessing he did could seem obsessive.

“No. My parents don’t live far so it's easy for me to commute.''

He hands her a plastic fork now that she is distracted from her work and she takes it.

“What are your plans after graduation?”

He imagined her in his home pregnant.

“I am not sure. My father wants me to take over the family business, but I’m not sure it’s for me.”

The family business sold high-end jewelry. She was always adorned in it.

“Why?” he pushes.

She avoids his eyes again as she speaks.

“I would like to do something that helps people,” she admits.

“But you chose a business major?” Under a normal student/professor relationship he would not have known that without her telling him. But he spent hours going over her academic record. Her grades were not great, but they didn’t need to be. He would look after her.

“My father chose a business major, I just completed it.”

She pushes her food away and brings back her textbook, “Well, almost. This class is the only one I have to complete to graduate.”

“Better get back to studying then.”

He cleans up the food. He had no appetite either.

It was good to know that she was susceptible to influence. If she did what her father wanted, as her husband, she would cause him little trouble.

She yawns and he supposed he had kept her long enough. It was only a full workday before he could see her in class again. He wondered if he could devise a plan to see her on weekends. But for now, he bid her goodnight and saw her off in her car.

They continued their Tuesday nights. Coriolanus even managed to get her to come in some Saturdays before a big test. He helped her not only with his class but all she signed up for. Coriolanus was blessed with an academic mind and found her business major incredibly easy while she struggled with proposals and understanding key learning criteria. It worked well for him seeing her nearly three times a week. He was beginning to think he would be able to pass her after all. The sooner she graduates, the sooner their student/teacher relationship ends and something more could bloom.

When he entered class on Thursday, she was talking to another student. Another male student. It ruined his good mood completely.

He barked at everyone to sit down, and the other student, who Coriolanus never bothered to learn the name of, thankfully went back to his usual seat up in the stands.

He couldn’t help but glare at her during his lecture, along with slamming papers down on the desk too hard and manhandling University equipment.

Did she know of his affections for her, and was now using them against him for a passing grade? Coriolanus Snow would not be made a fool.

He spoke too fast for her to finish taking notes, leaving her to try to absorb information as much as she could. He dismissed the class after handing out the week's homework assignment, stopping by her desk last.

He places a hand up on her desk. “Stay,” he demands.

She leaves her packed bag by her feet as her classmates exit the room. The boy had the gall to wave goodbye but she only smiled back.

He knew he had no reason to be mad. Classmates talk. But he is mad. He is so furious.

He waits until the classroom is cleared before leaning closer with a fierce glare.

“Is my class a joke to you?”

“No, sir.”

“Then perhaps you can tell me why after hours of wasting my time with you, you still manage to hand in something I can barely read, let alone pass?”

“What?” Her voice quivers. The grades were not released yet, so her hope for a pass was still standing.

“Maybe if you spent less time flirting and more time studying I could have my nights back.”

As an only daughter, she was unused to being spoken to harshly. So the words of an authority figure upset with her quickly made her eyes water.

He wanted to pull her up from her seat and kiss her tears away, but she needed to know what she did was wrong.

“You’ll have to redo it.”

There goes her weekend and any plans with any boy, he thought.

She nods her head, “Yes, sir.”

“I want it on my desk by Monday morning.”

She nods again. Thinking it was over, she reached for her bag.

“Well?” He snaps. “Say thank you. I shouldn’t be giving you another chance.”

“Thank you, Professor Snow.” She mutters.

“What? Speak up,” he pushes.

“Thank you, Professor Snow,” she says more loudly.

“Go,” he flicks his hand towards the door and she rushes out.

Coriolanus didn’t want to leave for the week with her still mad at him, he had to make amends. So he waits in the multi-level parking garage. It took him a while to find her car, relieved that it was still there.

He waits for an hour, sitting on the hood of her car. When she does arrive, her eyes are red and puffy from crying. He felt terrible that he had caused her to bawl her eyes out for what was sure to have been an hour and a half.

“Professor Snow?” She questions, making her way to the car.

“Oh, precious. I am sorry.” She stood far enough in front of him that he could reach out and tug her forward into his hold.

“I just want what’s best for you, darling.” And it’s not that boy.

He proves he is stronger than her when she fails to break free from his hold.

With his grasp, he uses his right arm to stretch over her and pull her jaw up to look at him. His left arm wrapped around her shoulders keeping her pressed against his chest. A loose curl fell over his forehead and across his eyes.

“You were doing so well. You need to refocus, angel. We can study more together, you’ll get there.”

“You fail me for no reason”. Well, there was a reason. “I thought you were my friend.”

“I am your friend, honey.” His grip suddenly turns painful, causing her to squirm but he keeps her face still up towards him.

“Is he your friend too?”

“What are you talking about?”

The sound of footsteps echoing through the concrete building forced Coriolanus to release his hold. He would have trouble explaining to the school board why he thought this position was appropriate.

Another female student in tall heels makes her way up the slope. She had large headphones on that quieted the awful sound of her heels meeting the concrete floor, but it drowned further conversation between the two.

With Coriolanus off her, she unlocks her car, throwing her bag into the passenger seat.

“I won’t waste any more of your time, Professor Snow. Thank you for your help.”

If the other student had walked any faster, Coriolanus would have thrown open her car door and yanked her out. But even with the students' large headphones if she decided to scream it would be heard. So he steps out of the way, watching the sleek car go. He was left with an empty feeling and a quiet rage.

—---------------

He taps his pen against his desk while his other hand is pressed against his lips, propping him up. He had expected her to make her way to him by now. He had sent her a reminder message that their study session was still on.

He knew she would be here. She told him she hated studying at home. Her parents always distracted her. They loved their daughter and never put too much value on her schooling. Their money would take care of her before her husband came along. Her father would be happy for her to never marry and stay in the home, but he knew that he wouldn’t be around forever, and there would be a need to have someone else to look after her.

Coriolanus knew that they only bothered to send their daughter to University as a hunting ground for eligible bachelors. While not the intended fish, Coriolanus was certain he could win over her parents. But first, he had to win her over. And she was making it very difficult by not keeping their plans.

She was at the library, he was certain. Only 100 yards from his office. She would sit there until her assignment was done. He was sure to fail it again.

His chair scrapes against the floor as he pushes it back. He storms through the University without coming across another soul. It was late Saturday, and students and academics had long started their weekend. It was perfect for him. He wouldn’t mind if everyone else in the world died, so long as it left him and his girl. It was a sunny day, the temperature warm enough to stay outside in it. Once he found her, he would suggest that they lay a blanket on the field.

The library was dead. Capitol students were more interested in the social life of the University rather than the academic. He had expected that it was only her there, head burrowed into a book with her usual perplexed expression.

But through the book stands, he could see her sitting next to the boy from his class. They sat close together with books, coffee, and pens scattered over the table.

“Trust me, he wants you to write more formally. Try this-” she transcribes his words onto her paper and Coriolanus makes himself known.

“This is academic misconduct. You both could be expelled from the University.”

Maybe that’s what she needed. Her family would surely shun her and with no earning potential of her own, it would drive her into his arms.

“I was just helping.”

“You were just completing her assignment for her.”

She shook her head, going to speak, “No-”

“Shut up,” he spat.

He points to the young boy, “I want to speak to her alone. Leave.”

They both wait until the boy is far enough so their conversation won’t be heard.

She looks at Coriolanus with hopeful eyes.

“Sir, I-”

“You fucking slut.”

“Excuse me?” She asks, shocked.

“Whoring yourself out for an assignment. What would your parents think?”

She stands up behind the table, scooping her things into her arms.

“How dare you suggest that. He was helping me because you suck at your job.”

He crosses the table and grabs her by the arm to stop her from leaving.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home.” She tugged against his hold but she was only a young woman, barely an adult, and he was a full-grown man.

“We are going to the Dean, and you can explain to him that the reason you cheated is because he hired me.”

He doesn’t let go of her arm, using it to lead her to his car. She doesn’t fight him. She was too stupid to realize that the Dean wouldn’t hear concerns of academic misconduct on a Saturday. Or that Coriolanus had darker intentions than penalizing her for colluding with another student.

He drove too fast through the city. Her hands clenched his leather seats but she said nothing to him the entire journey. When they arrive at his skyrise and the gates open to his carport, she sobers to the idea that she might be in danger.

“Where are we?” She asks as he parks the car.

“Get out of the car,” he demands, unclipping his seat belt.

She follows him willingly into the elevator and up to his penthouse.

“Professor Snow, why are we here?”

He slams the door shut behind her and uses the solidified door to push her up against it.

“You are so fucking dumb, you know that? I’ve never seen anymore more undeserving of a place at the University than you.”

He had his hand on her neck to keep her there but added no pressure to hurt her.

“What was your plan with that boy? Use him to graduate and then get knocked up by him? Force him to marry you?”

“No! I didn’t have a plan. We’re just friends.” Her small hands go up around his wrists.

“Well, I don’t like you being ‘just friends’ with him. You’re never to see him again.”

She nodded as much as she could in her position.

“Okay, sir. Just please let me go. My family are expecting me home.”

Now that she was here, he didn’t like the idea of any other place being her home.

“Take your phone out of your pocket and tell your parents that you’re spending the weekend at Sophie's.”

Sophie was her best friend. She spoke of her often but Coriolanus had never met her.

She does as she was told, and Coriolanus leans in closer to watch her type the message on the family group chat. She was an adult and could stay where she pleased, so long as it was a preapproved place by her father, and Sophie’s was.

He takes the phone, pocketing it and releasing her from the door.

Her hand reached back to open it but the lock sprang up.

“Why did I have to tell them that?” She questions.

He knew now, and forever more, he was going to have to spell things out for her.

“We’ve had a terrible fight and now just need time to regather ourselves.”

He walks towards the open kitchen expecting her to follow.

“I am sorry. You can tell the Dean. I’ll be expelled for misconduct.”

“You think I care about academic misconduct? What do you think we were doing these past few weeks? I was doing your homework.”

She followed him to the kitchen now, and he could feel her presence behind him as he reached into the fridge for one of the fizzy drinks she liked. He stocked up in case she ever did decide to come over.

“What are you doing? Let me out then.”

He cracked open the tin and took a sip. It was sweet and too bubbly for his liking.

“Your parents sent you to school to find a husband. I think it’s time you found one.”

“I told you, I wasn't flirting with him!” She protested.

“Me, you dumb girl.”

She looked taken back. She steps back away from him, her eyes wide and frightened.

“You? Professor Snow-”

“I think given everything, you can call me Coriolanus, sweetheart.”

She retreats to the living room to create some distance.

“I am sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”

He scoffs at her, placing the can on the kitchen island and following her to where she stood.

“I won’t tell anyone about this,” she offers, “Just open the door.”

He chooses to sit, pulling her down on top of him. Her dress rises up to her thighs and he takes a second to run his hands up and down them. He helps her position her legs around his waist before holding her down by her hips.

“You don’t find me handsome, is that it?” He asks. He saw the way she looked at him when she thought he couldn’t see her. He knew she wasn’t immune to his natural good looks.

“Please, Professor Snow. I just want to go home.”

“Oh, love. You’re going to be staying here now with me, darling.”

“No. No I can't, I have to go home.”

Coriolanus shakes his head. “This is your home now, beautiful.”

He really hated to see her cry.

“Everything’s going to be fine, sweetheart. Don’t cry.” He reaches up and wipes the tears as they fall.

Her jewelry jingles as she runs her hands through her hair. For the first time, it bothered Coriolanus. It felt as though the jewelry was symbolic of her father's hold over her. She was Coriolanus' property now. Her chains belonged to him.

He began by sliding her gold bangles off her wrists and unclipping the delicate bracelets that hid in between them. He let them fall around him, unbothered. She doesn’t stop him as he reaches for her necklace and earrings.

He smiles up at her now that she is bare from her jewelry. He slides his hands up to the back of her shoulders and pushes her to rest on his chest.

—-------------

Coriolanus took the week off work to help her settle. He woke up early this morning next to her and went to get her favorite breakfast sandwich from a nearby caf��.

The line was long so when he returned home, he knew she would be up.

“Are you hungry, petal? I got us some food,” he calls out.

He places the food on the table, upon hearing no reply.

“Petal?” He calls. “Sweetheart?”

He searches his apartment to find her sitting by the door to the greenhouse, crying. He crouches down next to an expensive marble statue that she had used as a battering ram.

“Well, why did you break it if you didn’t want it broken?” He spoke to her as if he was speaking to a child.

“It wouldn’t break,’’ she sobbed. “I couldn’t get it to crack open.”

He taps against the reinforced glass that has only minor cracks.

“It’s tough,” he consoles. If anyone else would have broken his things, he would have gone berserk, but she had free reign to smash and destroy what she liked.

“Come here,” he picks her up by her arms, forcing her to her feet and back into the bedroom.

“I want to go home to my parents,” she cried.

“I am not keeping you from your parents, petal” he says, placing her back into bed, “We’ll go visit them when you feel better.”

She curls into her side and he places himself behind her, halfway on top of her so he could speak gently into her ear.

“Don’t you want me to take care of you? Make your father proud of the man you’ve chosen? All your parents want is for you to be married. You could give it to them and never have to worry about a single thing again.”

She uncurls herself slightly, encouraging him to keep going.

“I’ll make sure you pass all your classes. Have the finest things. All you need to do is be my good little girl. So easy, even you could do it.”

He knew she had deep anxiety about the future. He could offer her a world, where all of the if’s were disintegrated. She was interested in it, flipping on her back to look up at him.

“We’ll wait until you graduate to announce our relationship. We’ll tell your parents tonight.” He wanted to strike while she was still in a deluded state. “You’ll move in. Become my personal assistant after graduation. You said you wanted to help people. Help me. Your dad will be so proud of you.”

He clouded her mind. It was an easy way out from everything that troubled her, offered by a man who she had crushed on but never thought she could have.

She nods her head, even before she was aware of it. Only the crushing feeling of his lips against hers brought her head movements to attention.

They both returned to the classroom on Thursday for the final exam. Her mind knew that Coriolanus was not right in the head. That he couldn’t love like a normal person. But it was too late. Her parents approved of the relationship. Her father was glad that it was an older, successful man rather than an immature young boy. And her mother was glad that he was handsome and rich. It would disappoint them, despite the circumstances of the relationship, to break it off. Coriolanus had already promised them a wedding by the end of the following year. Coriolanus acted indifferent to her in class, not even looking at her as he placed the exam paper down in front of her. It was already filled out with the answers. All she had to do was sit there for an hour pretending. Nevertheless, that night they celebrated her achievement. Coriolanus told her how smart she was, and that her grades placed her at the top of his class. And his work ensured that she at least passed the rest of hers. The rest of the school year was spent organizing a graduation party while Coriolanus handed in work with her name on it. This life was easy, but came at a price. Her life was no longer hers. Coriolanus played with it like a doll.

Everything was done together or not at all. He considered her his, and as such, expected everything she did to be run past him first.

“Yes, Professor Snow.” She would tease him when he gave her an outright demand, instead of dressing it up with sweet talk.

He left his position at the University to his successor, much like Dr Gaul did. He had bigger things to focus on. His presidential run and growing family took precedence over teaching military theory and the likes of Hobbes and Rousseau. He laughed at her when she failed to remember the ideas of Hobbes. His dumb, naive little girl never had to worry about the state of warre that plagued mankind. He would protect her from humanity in its entirety.

#coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #coriolanus x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #professor Snow

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sallowedbethyname · 3 days ago

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to be home, to be loved ch.2

Chapter 2: a home that was built upon grief

excerpt:

“I understand,” he said. “Thank you. Really, I couldn't thank you enough. I think I owe you my life.”

A soft laugh fell from your lips. You shook your head.

“No, don't do that,” you gently reprimanded him. “What's important is that you live a better, safer life, Sebastian. If not for me, then for Ominis. For Anne.”

He was stunned at your choice of words. You watched as a million emotions flashed in his dark eyes.

“I will. I'm doing that now. You can see that, can't you?”

word count: 8.5k

tags: found family, friends to lovers, eventual smut, child abuse

note: i've made a sebastian sallow x mc playlist filled with songs that sets the tone for this fic! check it out here if you want!

read chapter 1

read on ao3

Professor Fig’s house was the same as you left it a year ago. Neat and tidy, despite the absurd amount of tomes and magical artefacts that seemed to cover every surface. Warm and welcoming, as almost every room seemed to smell like cinnamon and tea. Comforting, as you could almost feel traces of your mentor even though he was long gone.

You stood in the foyer, taking in the sight. Suddenly, you could remember everything so vividly. The day Fig brought you to this house after taking you out of the orphanage, how you still had a hard time believing that magic truly existed. The fear and surprise you felt when you first saw Hobbs. The feel of Fig’s wand in your hand — foreign, like it didn't belong, yet you managed to cast your first magic.

“It's… bizarre, isn't it? Death,” you softly spoke. “One minute they're there, the next, they're not. Yet the world still retains traces of their lives. The clothes they wore, the books they loved to read. Makes it hard to accept their passing, don't you think? It's so easy to believe they never really left. That they'd return.”

Sebastian stared at you — had been since the first time you walked through the door. He was silent for a moment before letting out a small sigh. “It is.”

Somehow, his voice snapped you from your stupor. Quickly, you turned to face him, panic etched all over your face.

“Sebastian, I'm sorry, I—”

“Hey, it's okay, you don't have to apologize,” he said, eyes widening in surprise. “You are grieving, so you needn't worry too much about me.”

You forced yourself to smile. Took a deep breath. Nervously straightening your coat.

“Thank you,” you said in a thick voice. “I'm alright now.”

If Sebastian could see through your lie, he had the decency not to point it out. For that, you were grateful. Taking a few deep breaths, you walked deeper into the house, him following quietly behind you.

Fig’s living room came into view, dominated by dark blue and wooden accents. You briefly wondered if he used to be a Ravenclaw and it dawned on you that you had never once thought to ask him. Once again, your heart got swallowed up by grief, bitter from your own helplessness.

“Seems empty, this house,” Sebastian thankfully spoke, giving you something to focus your attention on. “You said there’s going to be a house-elf?”

“Yes, he’s a bit older than the other house-elves I met though,” you explained. “Perhaps only Deek was older than him.”

“Deek?”

You blinked, realizing you had never once taken Sebastian, or any of your friends, into the Room of Requirement. “A house-elf friend of mine. When we get back to Hogwarts, perhaps I’ll take you to meet him.”

“Should’ve introduced us when you took us into the kitchen,” he replied, chuckling to himself.

“Oh, he’s not usually in the kitchen. He’s… somewhere else.”

“Somewhere else,” he repeated, curiosity shining in his eyes. “Is this another secret of yours I'm aware of?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Perhaps.”

A snort. “Alright, then. I’ll hold on to your word for it,” he grinned. “So Fig’s elf. Where do you think they might be?”

“I’m not sure..” you murmured as you looked around the room, even taking a peek at the empty, spotless kitchen the house-elf usually frequented. “Hobbs? Hobbs, are you in here?” you decided to call out.

Almost immediately, you could feel a strong gust of wind and a loud crack echoing throughout the house. A house-elf wearing a pleated robe had materialized out of thin air in the middle of the living room. Its eyes, almost the size of a teacup plate, were staring at you in surprise.

“Missus!” Hobbs croaked with a loud, hoarse voice. “Missus is here.”

You smiled. “Hello, Hobbs. How have you been?”

The house-elf blinked rapidly before tears welled up in his eyes. The next moment, he wailed.

“Oh, Missus! Please forgive Hobbs for not welcoming Missus and her friend! Hobbs was cleaning Master Fig’s room… Hobbs knows Master is no longer… no longer here, but Hobbs simply cannot leave it be. Poor Master Fig, Hobbs misses—”

Neither you nor Sebastian could understand the rest of Hobb’s sentence because the house-elf had cried so hard he had lost the ability to speak. You couldn't take it anymore. Without thinking, you rushed forward and hugged the elf’s frail body.

“I know, I know,” you said. Stammering. Still trying hard to contain your tears. “I'm sorry, Hobbs, I missed him, too.”

The house-elf continued to cry, smearing his snot and tears all over your shoulder but you couldn't care less. You knew he had served Fig for a long, long time, and your mentor had been nothing but kind to him.

“Poor Master Fig… first it was Missus Miriam and now Master…”

Behind you, Sebastian was standing awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Your shirt had gotten so wet but pointing it out would no doubt be a dick move given the moment. So he decided to slip away to the kitchen.

You didn't notice that Sebastian was no longer in the room with you. Not when you were so focused on not allowing yourself to cry. You could do it later, you thought, when you were alone and nobody could see you.

For now, you must comfort Hobbs.

“Hey, Hobbs, it's okay,” you softly said, rubbing his back. “I'm here now… you won't be alone anymore.”

“Hobbs knows,” the house-elf said as he rubbed his eyes with the hem of his plaid robe. “A good witch lady came here a few weeks ago. The deputy headmistress of Hogwarts. She told… she told Hobbs what happened to M- Master Fig and that Missus is now Hobb's… Hobb's master…”

“Professor Weasley,” you said, nodding. “Yes, she's a good witch, Hobbs. A very good witch.”

The house-elf continued to cry. “Hobbs has been grieving. T- The last time the Master was here, he t- told Hobbs that he would b- bring Missus here to visit, b- but… but Master—”

“I know,” a treacherous tear finally rolled down your cheek, rebelling against your desperate attempt. You immediately looked up and took a deep breath, exerting any strength and willpower in you to stop yourself from crying. “I know… I miss him, too, Hobbs.”

For a while, the two of you sat on the living room floor, huddled together. The house-elf was still sobbing, though not as hysterical as before. You felt numb. You could feel guilt sinking its teeth into your limbs as you recalled your mentor's death, scrutinizing every small detail, pinpointing moments where you should have been able to save him.

Sebastian walked in a few moments later and you hurriedly wiped away any traces of tears from your face. He brought two cups of tea with him and carefully placed them on the coffee table.

“Warm tea,” he said. “My… mother used to brew one for me and Anne whenever we were feeling sad.”

You nodded, giving him a weak smile. “Thank you.”

Awkwardly, Sebastian returned your smile and took a step back, giving you space. You gently pat Hobbs’ back.

“You've been crying a lot, Hobbs. Here, have some tea. My friend Sebastian made it for you.”

“Oh,” he gasped. Sebastian's kind gesture snapped him out of his misery. The elf looked at Sebastian timidly. “Thank you, Missus, kind sir, Hobbs is sorry he failed to give you a proper welcome.”

“It's alright, Hobbs, you don't need to apologize,” Sebastian replied, sounding almost bashful.

For a moment, a soothing silence fell over the room as you and Hobbs drank Sebastian's tea. It was just the right amount of sweetness, and the heat did wonders for warming your chest and delicately calming your frayed nerves. You could taste a hint of mint, too, and you wondered if he added it using magic.

Sebastian took his time marvelling at your mentor's living room. Brown eyes tracing over every object and tome in wonder. You wondered if he could decipher their usage if he stared hard enough. Suddenly, he let out a gasp. Freckled hands grabbed a thick, leather-bound book from the top of the fireplace.

“I can't believe this! I can't believe Fig had this in his house!” he exclaimed with an excitement akin to a kid discovering a hidden treasure.

“What is it?”

He held out the book to you, grinning from ear to ear. The wording on the book cover was fading, but you could still read it:

Uncovering the Secrets of Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades

“This is one of the rarest books about the history of magic. The only time I saw it was in the Restricted Section!”

“Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades?” you frowned. These names weren't foreign to your ears. “The Greek Gods?”

“Or extremely powerful wizards of the past,” he clarified, a conspiratorial smile blooming on his lips. “There were rumours that the gods the people of Ancient Greece worshipped weren't exactly gods. Rather, they were wizards and witches. It had some merits, don't you think? Zeus could conjure lightning through magic—perhaps a bit like your power… and Aphrodite may be extremely irresistible because she developed a potent love spell, some food for thought.”

“Huh, and why would Hogwarts put the book in the Restricted Section?”

The smile on Sebastian's face disappeared. “Is that a real question? Zeus and his promiscuity? The creation of the Minotaur?”

You paused, remembering all the concerning things you had read about the gods of Ancient Greece. “Ah… not the best book to be read by first-graders, isn't it?”

“Definitely not,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Still, I'm surprised Fig could get his hands on this. Like I said, this book is extremely rare.”

Seeing the wonder in his eyes comforted you, somehow—so much so that you didn't realize you had been smiling.

“Professor Fig told me he used to travel a lot with his wife before he joined Hogwarts. Most of the objects you see here are memorabilia from their adventures.”

“Huh,” Sebastian hummed as he picked up a glass box which contained a large scale. It had such a pretty colour. Dark purple, but it reflected the light just like how a galaxy should. Holographic and mesmerizing.

“That was a mermaid scale, gifted to his wife when she saved the mermaid from some dark wizards.”

“A mermaid scale, a rare book,” he cast his glance around the room one more time, before meeting your eyes. “I may not know much about your mentor, but it seemed like he had lived a wonderful life, didn't he? Seeing the world, exploring every secret it had to offer…”

You let out a chuckle. “Yes, I suppose you're right,” you smiled, remembering the serene look on Professor Fig's face when he drew his last breath, Miriam's wand secured in his hand. “I suppose it is only right that we celebrate his life.”

Once you had finished your tea and Hobbs began to feel better, he immediately fussed over you and Sebastian. He didn't seem to mind or look surprised when you told him of the boy's long-term stay in this house, though you wondered if it was because Hobbs was simply too nice to comment on it.

“Today has been an awfully long day, isn’t it,” Sebastian muttered as the two of you sat in the dining room, stomachs full and content from roasted chicken expertly made by Hobbs.

You glanced outside the window, at the view of the night sky and cheddar tree covering the horizon.

“Goodness, it’s so late, isn’t it? We should get some rest,” you said, pushing yourself off your seat. “Oh, which room would you like to stay in? There are two on the second floor, one’s more spacious but it’s facing the east so… if you’re not an early riser, the sunlight will be a bit of a bother in the morning. The other one’s smaller but it’s got a nice sunset view.”

“The smaller one,” he said without missing a beat. Let’s leave the bigger room for Ominis; he deserved it. When he stayed over in Feldcroft, we either slept in the same bed or I slept on the couch. The first time we had a sleepover, he told us he had a good sleep, but I could sense him twisting and turning the entire night.”

“I can imagine,” you laughed. “Come on, then, let me show you your room.”

You took Sebastian up the stairs to the second floor, to the room on one corner of the hallway, next to the library. The door opened with a faint creak and the smell of wood and tea greeted you. The room itself was rather cosy, with striped, dark blue wallpaper. There was a single bed in one corner of the room, followed by a bedside table and a desk. On the other corner of the room stood a wooden wardrobe and a standing mirror.

“Ah, isn't this a nice room?”

Sebastian seemed satisfied with his choice and you immediately felt a sense of relief. Hobbs seemed to know where the new guest chose to sleep, because the next moment, Sebastian's belongings started to materialize next to the wardrobe.

The boy walked inside, taking a closer look at the interior, before turning to look at you.

“Where will you be sleeping?”

“Downstairs, it's in the hallway next to the living room.”

“Ah,” he muttered, appearing to be strangely flustered. Awkwardly, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, see you tomorrow?”

“Right. See you tomorrow. If you need anything, just call Hobbs. Or me. I'm a light sleeper so… yeah,” you lamely explained. Faltering, as you realized you had been rambling. You shook your head. “Well… I better get going.”

“Wait!”

Sebastian's voice caused you to halt. You looked back at him, unsure. The boy himself seemed to mirror your reflection, mouth opening without any words coming out. In the end, he sighed and gave you a small smile.

“Thank you,” he said. “For giving me a place to stay. Good night, ace.”

Your heart leapt in your chest.

“Good night, Sebastian.”

Much to your dismay, sleep seemed to be adamant to evade you that night. You had been lying on your bed for over an hour now, sprawled in an ungraceful position, staring at the ceiling.

Every time you close your eyes, you see your mentor's face. Nightmares didn't come often, but returning to Fig's house evoked a deeper sense of grief inside you. Even more than you expected. Hobbs had cried so much, the poor elf. When you remembered him, guilt flared inside your chest like a dry bush caught fire. Incendio swallowing a forest.

He could've survived, you thought to yourself. I could've saved him.

Because you really could, couldn't you? If you had been faster or stronger. Perhaps a single Bombarda would have destroyed that boulder to pieces. Or your Ancient Magic! You could've done something.

You could feel your throat constricting. Air trying to claw its way into your lungs. A tightness in your chest that felt so real you could've sworn there was a real wound there. With a sharp inhale, you sat up. Kicked the blanket off of you before getting out of the room. Desperate to take your mind off of your grief and guilt.

The house was deathly quiet. Not even a faint snoring could be heard. In that silence, your own rapid breath sounded so loud. You wiped your face with your hands and tucked your hair behind your ears. Still wide awake. Aimlessly, you padded towards the kitchen. Perhaps tea would help, so you decided to make yourself a cup.

You moved like you were a mindless Inferi under a spell, every action made was more from muscle memory rather than a conscious effort from your brain. Yet after a while, the mundane actions seemed to help. You found consciousness seeping back to you as you lit the fire to boil water. Placing trembling hands on the kitchen counter, you closed your eyes and took a deep, grounding breath. Once, twice, thrice.

“Seems like someone's unable to sleep.”

Sebastian's voice caused you to flinch. With a soft gasp, you turned around and found him leaning against the kitchen archway, still in his pyjamas, looking at you in amusement.

“Merlin's pants, you surprised me,” you sighed. “And no, I couldn't, but it seemed like you couldn't either.”

“Merlin’s pants? That's new,” he chuckled. “And you're right. I can't sleep either. What are you making?”

“Tea. Want some?”

“If it's not too much trouble,” he said in a soft voice as he approached you. “So, what's bothering you?”

You paused, linking your fingers together. “...Grief,” you answered. “What about you?”

Sebastian let out a soft sigh. “Grief.”

Warm brown eyes met yours in the dark of night. You should look away, you knew, but they were beautiful, his eyes, shining like a dark lake under the moonlight. Realizing your treacherous thought, you took a deep breath. Your body moved on its own accord, shifting awkwardly to the right, widening the distance between you and him.

“Anne?”

You didn’t dare ask about Solomon. Wouldn’t even dare to wonder if he grieved his rage-filled uncle.

“Mhm,” he replied, head hanging low. “Do you think she’s okay, wherever she is?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. Truthfully, you didn’t know how to answer his question, but you’d be damned before you allow him to slip again.

“You know, when Professor Fig first taught me about the curses in the magical world, I asked him if these curses would be broken should the caster die.”

His eyes snapped back to yours. Hopeful.

“And?”

“He said it depends on the curse. Some could be broken. Some stayed the same. But some could become weaker. I’d like to believe that… if Anne’s curse continues to persist, it would at least be weakened after Rookwood’s death.”

“I’ll hold on to that hope,” Sebastian whispered. “Whether it’s broken or not, she should be… marginally okay right now, isn’t she? I mean… even if she couldn’t forgive me, she… she would’ve let me know if she’s not okay, wouldn’t she?”

“Of course,” you answered. You couldn’t resist it, you placed your hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Of course, Sebastian, she would’ve let you know.”

The brown-haired boy nodded. Took a deep breath before shaking his head. Clarity made its way back into his gaze.

“You’re right. She wouldn’t have kept such important information a secret from me, right? If she still doesn’t want to contact me, then… at least Ominis.”

“Yeah…”

Right at that moment, your kettle began to whistle. You moved to pick it up, but Sebastian was quicker, turning off the stove and picking the kettle up. He told you he got this so you grabbed two cups from one of the shelves.

“I could do it myself, you know.”

“But it’s hot.”

You stilled. Treacherous heart waiting with bated breath. “Has that ever stopped me?”

“No,” he looked up, pushing one of the filled cups towards you. “But come on, we’re on a break and you’ve had a busy year.”

You wanted to tell him that has nothing to do with the tea, but you relented. “Come on, let’s go to the living room, it’s too cold here,” you said.

“Speaking of which, you wouldn’t mind if I read some of Fig’s books, would you?” Sebastian said, looking much better than he did a few minutes ago.

“Eager to get your hands on the Uncovering the Secrets of Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, are you?” you said with a teasing smile. “I don’t mind. Although I’d rather none of us go into Fig and Miriam’s room and their study… I’d like to preserve everything there as best as I could.”

“Duly noted.”

Quietly, the two of you walked into the living room and turned on the lights. With a soft ‘Incendio’, Sebastian lit up the fireplace, spreading much-needed warmth into the space. You sat on the nearest sofa, taking a sip of the tea and letting the heat cauterize the hurt that had been flaring in your chest.

“Oh, Merlin's beard, I can't believe this,” Sebastian muttered in awe.

The boy was standing in front of one of the shelves with a book spread open in his hands. He looked at you with an excited grin.

“The author of this book was talking about his time exploring Athens and stated that there were traces of magic in the spot where the Statue of Zeus used to stand,” he explained in excitement.

“Mm, so it was destroyed by magic.”

“Destroyed or hidden away?” he answered in excitement. With large steps, he crossed the room and sat next to you, placing the book on his thigh so you could read it. His finger was pointing at a text saying Possible Locations For the Entrance to Tartarus.

“Take a look at this part. This guy theorized that the entrance to Tartarus was hidden in a lake somewhere in a region called Lerna in Greece. The hydra was said to guard the lake and some believed that this was where Hades abducted Persephone!”

He got your full attention.

“Oh, I love the tale of Hades and Persephone,” you said with a sigh.

Sebastian’s eyes were on you. “You know, some people believed that Hades didn’t actually kidnap Persephone.”

Blinking rapidly, you looked up at him in curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“Well, some said that Hades and Persephone started out as friends after Hades sought her from the Underworld. As time passed, they fell in love and decided to elope, with Penelope following Hades and eating the pomegranate seed which bound her to the Underworld, so that they would never be separated.”

You listened to his explanation with rapt attention. You never even entertained such a crazy idea before, not when the books you read told you the same thing: that the god of death tricked and kidnapped the Greek goddess.

Somehow though… you found yourself not minding this version at all.

“I like it. I think I like this version better.”

Sebastian looked perplexed. “Because it’s less macabre?”

“Hmm, no, not that,” you paused, pondering the story and formulating words inside your head. “This one felt… purer. Hades was always depicted as this cold deity and people fear him because he’s the God of Death, yet Persephone didn’t seem to mind. In your version, it sounded to me as if she loved him for who he is, undeterred by the darkness and even embraced it, as she became the Queen of the Underworld in the end.”

“Oh…” Sebastian murmured, lips parting open as he looked at you with what seemed to be amazement and surprise, mixed with something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

You smiled and tucked a wild strand of hair behind your ear.

“What about you? Are there any Greek mythology that you liked?”

The boy blinked. Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Uh…” he averted his gaze and straightened his back. “I think… Odysseus?”

“Ahh, the cunning and intelligent Odysseus. The one who defeated Cyclops, angered Poseidon, and the reason why the Greeks managed to win the Trojan War,” you laughed to yourself. “Very fitting, actually.”

“You make it seem like I’m a warmongering wretch.”

“I’m not! But those are the things Odysseus is known for, no? Well, aside from leaving his wife Penelope for 20 years and still testing her even though she had shown unwavering loyalty to him.”

“Heh, yeah. Well, guessing he’s not too smart when it comes to love, isn’t he?”

“Definitely not,” you nodded. “I’d be so angry if I were Penelope.”

Sebastian’s expression softened. The corner of his lips curled into a crooked smile. “Yeah, I can see why. But anyway, to stop you from teasing me, there’s another Greek mythology that I really like.”

“Oh? Do tell, Sebastian.”

This time, Sebastian averted his gaze, as if finding his toes to be much more interesting than anything else in the room.

“Orpheus and Eurydice,” he answered. “The man whose determination and love could soften the hearts of the King and Queen of the Underworld that they granted him one thing that had never occurred in mankind’s history before: to bring someone back from the dead.”

You hummed. “All he had to do was not turn back.”

“And he almost made it!” Sebastian said with wide eyes, wonder dripping in his tone. “No, he made it! Just one more step before Eurydice could leave the Underworld. But in his eagerness to be reunited with her, he looked back, forgetting that Eurydice had not yet crossed into the overworld and… because of that, she vanished for the second time. Forever.”

There was something in the way he spoke that moved you and enabled you to mourn for the doomed lovers in ways you never had felt before.

“I didn’t expect you would pick such a sad tragedy,” you said with a voice no louder than a whisper.

Sebastian rubbed the tip of his nose. “I don’t know. Something about it resonated with me, I suppose. Failing at the very last moment. Losing someone you cared about because of your own foolishness.”

“Do you think Orpheus failed because he was foolish?”

“...Yes.”

You hummed. “Perhaps he was. But I remember reading this book. It was a retelling of the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice, so it wasn’t meant to be true to the source at all. Yet the author did a spectacular job of exploring their love for each other. Basically, the author said… perhaps Orpheus wasn’t to be blamed for looking back. He did that because he loved her. He loved her so dearly, so how could he not look back?”

Once again, Sebastian looked as if he was at a loss of words. He shifted in his seat, one hand rubbing the back of his head. You wondered if it was because of the dim lighting of the room or because of the glow from the fireplace, but his cheeks seemed to be a bit pinker.

“Mistakes that were made because you love someone, huh?”

“Yes, I guess you can say that.”

“Hm,” he smiled, nodding to himself. “I suppose that's one way to look at it. A gentler way. I must say, though, I didn't expect you to be such a romantic, ace.”

You rolled your eyes and let out an undignified snort. “If you tease me about this, Sebastian, I swear—”

“I won't tease you! Who do you think I am?” he retorted, pretending to be offended by your words. “Your secret is safe with me, so relax.”

“You better keep your word or you'll wake up with vines growing out of your nose!”

Sebastian winced. “It's that another one of your ancient magic tricks? I thought being transformed into a chicken was the worst.”

“No, it's a stupid spell I learned from Garreth.”

“Why is he teaching you spells? I thought he was busy concocting another death potion.”

“It was an exchange,” you explained. “I help him gather ingredients, he teaches me new spells or shows me another one of Hogwarts' secret passages.”

“Pretty sure you can find half, if not all, of those passages on your own, considering how much time you spent exploring.”

“True, but sometimes I like having someone show me the way.”

Sebastian snorted. “You, my friend, are missing the point of secret passages. The most exciting thing about a secret is unravelling them.”

“Not everything needs to be trials and tribulations,” you laughed, before pushing yourself up and walking towards the bookshelf. “Now, let's see if I can find something as interesting as your book.”

“I surely hope you can, more for me to read!”

You run your fingers through the rows of book spines before you before stopping on a title that caught your eye.

“Ah, History of the Pure Blood Families of Great Britain,” you read aloud.

“That is the most boring title I've ever heard. You can just ask Ominis about the pure-blood families if you're so curious about them.”

“Well, I grew up in the muggle world so I knew nothing about you wizards strange blood types,” you said as you picked the book up. “I’ll read this one.”

Sebastian gave you an exasperated look that turned into a chuckle when you plopped down beside him with a bright grin, as if utterly proud of your choice. Soon, a comfortable silence fell over the room, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the sound of pages being turned.

Ten minutes into the book and, with a heavy heart, you had to admit that Sebastian was right. The book was indescribably boring. So boring that it should've been a crime. It talked about the pure-blood families in flowery words while putting down half-bloods and muggles. However, curiosity pushed you to continue reading, even if you had to repeat the same paragraph over and over again to understand what it meant.

Still, the room was warm and you could smell the faint scent of pine needles and caramel in the air. When you tilted your head towards Sebastian, the scent grew stronger. You breathed it in. It was familiar and reassuring. Slowly, the words on the pages began to blur and, before you could stop yourself, you dozed off.

“Oh, look, there's a chapter about the Minotaur,” Sebastian said, blissfully unaware that you've drifted off to sleep. When you failed to give him an answer, he turned and found you fast asleep, head hanging low in an awkward position that would surely give you a pesky headache in the morning.

Soft smile bloomed on rosy lips. Sebastian let out a soft chuckle.

“Alright, then, let's get you to bed.”

The distant, yet jubilant chirping of birds was what woke you up the next morning. The delightful sound seeped into your mind and slowly roused your consciousness. When you opened your eyes, you were surprised to find yourself on the living room sofa with a warm, wool blanket covering your body. Blinking drowsily, you found Sebastian on the sofa right across you, still fast asleep, body curling into a fetal position, with half of his blanket having already slipped to the floor.

‘Can’t imagine what Ominis would say if he knew what happened,’ you thought to yourself, half from amusement, half from embarrassment.

Still, sleeping Sebastian was quite the sight. He looked so peaceful. You usually saw him sporting a smug, teasing smirk or with his eyebrows furrowed in indignation when things did not go his way or with a downcast expression on his face. Presently, though, he looked as if whatever burden that had been chasing him during the day failed to capture him while he slept.

“Missus, Hobbs is sorry for bothering you, but… is there anything you want for breakfast?” Hobbs peeked his head from the kitchen, speaking in a high-pitched whisper as if he could wake an entire village if he was louder.

“Hmm, pancakes sound nice. But wait there, Hobbs, I'll have a look at what we have,” you said.

“Oh, very well.”

You stretched away the remaining drowsiness on your body like a cat before standing up and adjusting Sebastian's blanket so it properly covered his body. Stifling a yawn, you headed to the kitchen, where Hobbs was already waiting.

“We have bread and butter, some bacon and egg… Hobbs can also make Missus and her friend pancakes if you like.”

You frowned. It would be nice if Sebastian could have what he liked for breakfast, but then you realized you didn't know his favourite food. Or drink.

“Um… I suppose we can settle with the pancakes?”

The house-elf nodded vigorously, ears flapping around his head. “Hobbs will do that right away.”

“I'll help.”

“But Missus—”

“I wanted to, Hobbs. Back at my old place, we would take turns cooking meals for the children in the orphanage, so I know a thing or two about cooking,” you grinned at him. “It may not be the best but it's at least decent.”

“Very well,” Hobbs said, though he still looked slightly unsure.

You two worked quickly though you ended up contributing little because Hobbs was just too good at what he did. You had never seen a pancake so round before, so unlike the crooked ones you used to make.

“You have to teach me how to make such a round pancake one day, Hobbs.”

Hobbs looked at you, bewildered. “Hobbs doesn't mind but Hobbs actually did it with magic.”

“Oh, it's too bad house-elf and humans have different magic. I'd love to learn a spell that can make me cook the roundest pancakes.”

“Maybe there is a spell for that! Who knows, wizardkinds are resourceful with their magic.”

Soon enough, the sweet smell of pancakes, maple syrup, and berries filled the house, making your mouth water. Sebastian peeked into the living room not long after.

“Seems like someone has been busy! You should've woken me up, I would love to help.”

He looked absolutely adorable with his hair all tousled up and messy. You let out a chuckle.

“Was worried I was going to be a bad host if I disturbed my guest’s sleep. But thanks for letting me know. Tomorrow, Hobbs and I are definitely going to enlist your help,” you said as you sprinkled berries on top of your pancakes.

“Good. I'm actually quite good at cooking, you know,” Sebastian replied, swiftly grabbing the plates of pancakes and setting them on the table.

A teasing reply had been sitting on the tip of your tongue, but part of you worried you might say the wrong thing. You always did, whenever it came to his family and what happened just a few weeks ago, before your fifth year at Hogwarts ended.

You decided to go for the safest answer. “Had a lot of practice?”

“Ominis is a disaster in the kitchen—don’t tell him I said that, Anne was slightly better than me but after she got cursed… well, I try doing most of the house chores whenever I can.”

He mentioned nothing of Solomon. You knew better than to ask.

“Alright, breakfast is done. There are three plates so I assume Hobbs will be eating with us?” Sebastian asked once he was done setting the table.

“Yes! We used to have meals together with Professor Fig, don't we, Hobbs?” you kindly asked the house-elf.

“Hobbs had a hard time accepting it at first. Most wizardkinds thought sharing a meal with house-elves is scandalous and dirty,” Hobbs explained. “But Master was very kind towards Hobbs, and now Missus, too.”

Sebastian caught your eyes and grinned. “Alright, let's have breakfast!”

Days in your mentor’s home seemed to stretch longer than usual. After breakfast, you took your time getting ready before inspecting the house. Hobbs had been cleaning every room thoroughly, but nobody knew what to do with Fig's personal belongings.

“I should probably give them a look or tidy them up, I know,” you said, while you and Sebastian sat on the backyard porch, watching bees and butterflies swirling around Miriam’s knotgrass bush.

“But you can't do it,” Sebastian finished.

“I can't. Not yet, at least,” you sighed.

Each item held a memory. Or, at the very least, the expectation that the owner will return and use it. It was an uncomfortable feeling and you weren't exactly keen on facing it.

“Well, then, we should probably put a pin on that plan for now,” Sebastian said with a knowing look. “You know, I don't often go to this part of London. Where should one go for sightseeing?”

You found yourself smiling. “Is this your attempt to get me out of the house even though we've only been here for a day?”

“Perhaps. What do you say?”

“Well, first of all, don’t get your hopes up because there isn't much to see here. There's a forest to the south and if we head north, we'll find some markets and shops and… that's it, honestly. They do sell great toffees and pastries, though.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad. Certainly, it’s much better than Feldcroft.”

“Well… it is livelier.”

The two of you broke into a peal of laughter and the gentle wind carried your voices to the edges of the garden. Smiling, you pushed yourself up, dusted your trousers, and grinned at him.

“Alright, let's go.”

Professor Fig’s house was located in a wizarding neighbourhood, so you didn't have too much difficulty in finding other wizards and magical items. The market you and Sebastian were heading to was just fifteen minutes walk away and it was pretty much a winding, cobbled street, lined by shops, taverns, and housing. Still, it was lively. The air smelled like toffees and freshly baked bread, while the townsfolk often stopped to chat with one another.

“This is no Hogsmeade, but…”

“What do you mean?” Sebastian snickered. “This place looks lively. A lot livelier than Feldcroft, that's for sure. Come on, show me where you usually go.”

First, you took him to the local candy shop, Cat’s Tail, where the two of you bought boxes of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, Sugar Quills, and Caramel Cobwebs.

“You know, I've always known you as a very courageous and daring person. Coming from a Gryffindor, this should be high praise, don't you think?” you told Sebastian as you led him through a stall full of candies.

The boy laughed, brown eyes fixed solely on you as if no amount of sweets could steal his attention.

“I'd argue that bravery isn't a trait solely reserved for Gryffindors, but go on.”

You showed him a basket full of Cockroach Clusters. “Go on, buy this and have a bite!”

“Hah, I knew you were up to no good!”

You were horrified to see him buy five of the disgusting-looking sweets and eat them all in front of you.

“While I appreciate your efforts in making our excursion more… entertaining, I need to remind you that I grew up with a twin sister who’s even more mischievous than I am. Cockroach Clusters were nothing to me, ace,” Sebastian explained with a triumphant smile as the two of you walked out of Cat’s Tail.

“That is unfair. I only knew wizards regularly eat cockroach-shaped sweets last year.”

“Aw, chin up, you still have much to learn, my charge.”

Rolling your eyes at his teasing smirk, you grabbed his elbow and pulled him towards a smaller one that strayed from the main street.

“You know how I spent most of my life in a Muggle orphanage?” you asked, turning at him.

“Yes, what about it?”

“Well, not every kid was sweet and friendly. Some of them were heinous, to say the least. I thought I had seen how mischievous or obnoxious children can be in that place, but then I went to Hogwarts, I met Garreth and you—”

“You think Garreth belonged in the same league as me? I should be a few levels above him, ace,” he snorted.

You winced. “Well, you’re not wrong, but that’s beside the point. My point is, I thought the kids at my orphanage were the pinnacle of mischief. That is until I met you and now I thought you’re the pinnacle of mischief—”

“High praise.”

“—But you just said that Anne is even more mischievous than you? I can’t believe it. I think I’m having a culture shock.”

“Surprised by the wizardkinds’ mischief, aren’t you?” he grinned. “Perhaps one day I shall tell you about our misadventures.”

“Uh oh, why does that intimidate me somehow.”

“A Gryffindor feeling intimidated? How uncommon.”

“Don’t.”

You stopped in front of a shop with purple panels and golden signage saying ‘Herta’s Vault of Curiosities’. It looked fairly humble at a glance until you saw the assortments of magical trinkets and items displayed on the window — a dragon scale armour, a skull embedded with emeralds and rubies, a set of daggers made of obsidian, and more.

Sebastian was looking at all of these items in awe. “What is this place?”

“A magical antique shop,” you grinned at him. “Herta’s the owner. Fig told me she used to be an esteemed professor in France and, after retiring, she travelled the world to collect magical artefacts. It was the first place I visited after I got here and it stunned me.”

“Well, right now, it’s stunned me, too.”

“When I first found this shop I was so amazed… I mean, all I knew was the walls of my orphanage. The children, the caretakers… I sort of had an imagination of what the outside world would be but… never this. Never magic.”

Sebastian was listening to you with rapt attention as if imagining the vastly different childhood you had.

“And now, you’ve become the hero of the wizarding world.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “I know, what a twist, isn’t it? Anyway, let’s get inside.”

The shop was the same as you left it. It smelled of herbs and old books, and every item seemed to call out to you. Sebastian, on the other hand, looked like he was Alice and he had stepped into Wonderland. He wouldn’t stop ‘ooh’-ing and ‘aah’-ing, calling out your name every few minutes to show you the cool items he spotted. First, it was a set of jewellery that was said to belong to Helga Hufflepuff, next was a potion book that was believed to be written by Rasputin himself (“Garreth would’ve shit his pants if he finds this,” you told Sebastian), and a unique looking curved dagger that was said to belong to a fierce general from Southeast Asia.

“Don’t even think about buying Rasputin’s book. It costs a fortune,” you reminded Sebastian when he cast one, longing glance at the book as you were on your way out of the shop.

“Wait for me, book. I shall come back to you in two years.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that the book would probably have a new owner by the time he graduated from Hogwarts.

“Right, where to next?” Sebastian asked.

You glanced at the clock inside the shop.

“It’s almost lunchtime. Shall we find something to eat? I know a good place not far from here. It’s cheap, too!”

The boy grinned. His brown hair caught the sunlight in the prettiest way possible.

“Lead the way.”

The place you had in mind was a restaurant called Angel’s Share, which had an outdoor dining area facing the forest. The sun was nice and warm today, so the two of you picked an outdoor table. When the waiter gave you and Sebastian a curious look, you gave her a polite smile and told her that your parents were still caught up at some shop.

“What are we now, siblings?” Sebastian asked once you two were out of the waiter’s earshot.

“Siblings, cousins, whatever as long as nobody paid too much attention to us.”

“Fair enough.”

Lunch was served in no time and by this time, you realized you had been starving. You figured Sebastian must’ve been hungry as well because the conversation soon ended and both of you were far too engrossed with each other's meals. Within minutes, the plates were emptied. You found yourself slouching on your seat, still savouring the taste of roasted bacon in your mouth, while Sebastian patted his stomach in satisfaction.

“That was a good meal.”

“Very.”

You cast your gaze towards the forest, spotting a group of birds flying overhead.

“Reminds you of the Forbidden Forest, doesn't it?” you softly said.

Sebastian followed your gaze. “A thinner, lighter version of it. Hopefully with fewer spiders, too. Or… at all.”

That brought a smile to your face. “Yeah, I've had enough of them.”

The boy let out a lighthearted chuckle, his eyes snapping back to yours. “You know, I didn't know you liked caramel that much. And chocolate,” he said, gesturing at the full shopping bag from Cat's Tail.

“Hah, what do you think I like?”

“...I don't know, actually. It's kind of strange, isn't it? We've slain dark wizards and goblins and other monsters but I don't even know what your favourite snack is.”

You tilted your head to one side, a grin spreading on your lips. Elated at the idea that Sebastian was interested in what you liked and you didn't like.

“Don't look too glum. I don't know what you like either. Hobbs asked me earlier if we should make something you like but I was at a loss,” you explained.

“Apple pies,” he answered. He had a smile on his lips, though it looked rather dim. “I suppose we were too preoccupied with the dark wizards and goblins and your magic and finding the cure for Anne, I…”

You waited, briefly wondering if it was better to stop him and tell him it was alright.

“I'm sorry. I was such an ass towards you… sometimes I wished I could go back in time and kick myself in the butt.”

You stilled. It wasn't the first time he apologized for everything that had transpired during the fifth year and each time, you told him it was alright. Water under the bridge. All's forgiven and forgotten.

Nevertheless, a part of you also felt a sense of relief each time he apologized. Quite like changing a bandage on a healing wound.

“It's alright, Sebastian. I've forgiven you.”

“...Even for what happened in the Scriptorium?”

Once again, you felt a faint prickling sensation all over your skin. A flash of green, a thousand invisible needles digging their way into your flesh. Sebastian's worry had been quickly replaced with awe when the wretched scriptorium opened up for them.

“Even what happened in the Scriptorium,” you nodded.

“Why did you make that choice? Why not…” he lowered his voice. “Why not cast it on me?”

This caused you to pause. Pondering what led you to make that dreadful choice of him casting Crucio on you.

“Well, first of all, I just started my year in Hogwarts, I have no idea what consequences I would face if I chose the other option,” you slowly explained. “A part of me did consider casting it on you, though, I admit… but then I looked at Ominis and… I don't know, I thought he probably wouldn't want to see his best friend going through the same experience.”

Sebastian hummed. Calloused fingers idly fiddling with the napkin on their table.

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome, Sebastian.”

He trained his gaze on you for a moment before he shook his head and laughed.

“I didn't expect you'd want to learn it though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You could already do much more terrifying things with your… special skills. I thought you'd think you're above learning… you-know-what.”

Why indeed, when you could blow up your enemies into smithereens like confetti, lift them up into the air and slam them over and over again to the ground like toddlers roughly playing with their toys, turn them into mindless chicken or sheep? Why should you mess with the Unforgivables?

“Curiosity,” you softly answered, averting your gaze from him. “That's one part. The other…”

Water. Suddenly, you could see water around you. Cold and salty. A pair of wild, desperate eyes had been searching yours.

You took a deep breath, grounding yourself back to the present, where Sebastian was sitting across you and looking at you with curiosity.

“Let's just say, I'm not above using less respectable methods for the greater good. I've learned it the hard way.”

The boy stared at you in surprise. He opened his mouth, searching for words.

“I mean, I suppose this wasn't too surprising, you never hesitated when you… you know,” he said, making gestures with his hand.

“...Turn them into confetti?”

“...Yes, that,” he cleared his throat. “Look, while I appreciate you telling me this — honest to Merlin, I didn't expect this turn of events at all — but I just want you to know that I am immensely curious.”

“I knew you'd be,” you said with a laugh. “Want to know what happened?”

“Yes— ahem, but… only if you feel comfortable.”

The smile on your face faded ever so slightly. You ducked your head, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt.

“One day,” you said, giving him a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. “It's not that I don't trust you. I trust you. But it is not something I'm keen on recalling.”

“Right. Of course,” he quickly replied. Casting you an apologetic look. “Forgive me.”

“There's nothing to forgive, Sebastian. You didn't do anything wrong,” you said in a gentle voice.

When your eyes met, he cracked a smile, which you returned.

“There's something else I'm curious about if you don't mind me asking.”

“Mm? Ask away.”

He took his time, slanting his gaze towards the forest before looking at you. “What you just said earlier… was that the reason why you… persuaded Ominis, and by extension, Anne, not to do what they wanted to do?”

“Ah…” you blinked, biting your lip. This question was even harder to answer than the previous one.

Indeed, why save him? Why save a boy who had murdered his own kin? You could say that it was all a mistake. A mishap made in the heat of the moment.

You could say that his fate was not yours to decide, not when you had cast spells more terrifying. Not when you had killed more.

You could say that Azkaban was too cruel of a fate for him. For a boy who had repeatedly been sidelined, scrutinized, and belittled by the only caretaker he had in his life.

But there was something more. Something bigger. Something deeper.

Ultimately, you settled with, “Yes. I suppose you can say that.”

The answer was undoubtedly too vague for someone as curious as Sebastian. Yet he didn't pry. He only nodded, humming in acknowledgement. Brown eyes seeking yours and you met him in the middle.

“I understand,” he said. “Thank you. Really, I couldn't thank you enough. I think I owe you my life.”

A soft laugh fell from your lips. You shook your head.

“No, don't do that,” you gently reprimanded him. “What's important is that you live a better, safer life, Sebastian. If not for me, then for Ominis. For Anne.”

He was stunned at your choice of words. You watched as a million emotions flashed in his dark eyes.

“I will. I am doing that now. You can see that, can't you?”

“Yes,” you nodded, reaching over the table to hold his hand, you couldn't resist the urge. “Yes, I can see that, and you don't know how relieved I am because of it.”

Sebastian’s eyes flickered towards your hand. You could feel his fingers trembling, but he made no other move.

“Good. That is all I want now,” he smiled.

tagging: @whoslestrange

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow fanart #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #karinawrites

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