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writingsoftarnishedsilver · 1 month ago

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Playing for Keeps | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Chapter 2

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Words: ~5,300

Tags: Modern AU, Reader Insert, Seventh Year, Female MC, No Y/N, Slytherin MC, Enemies to Lovers, Trope-y, Slow Burn, Humor, Coming of Age, High School Drama

The faint light of dawn filtered through the emerald curtains of your bed in the Slytherin dormitory, casting muted shadows across the stone walls. You blinked, disoriented for a moment before remembering: Hogwarts. Your first night in Slytherin had been fine—overwhelming, but manageable.

The dormitory was more extravagant than expected, its arched ceilings and serpentine décor exuding an eerie elegance. The soft green glow from the enchanted windows overlooking the Black Lake gave the room an otherworldly atmosphere you were still adjusting to. Thankfully, you already had Imelda, whose blunt humor and confidence were comforting, as well as Grace and Nerida, who’d stood by you earlier when Sebastian had been insufferable.

Of course, there were others.

Violet McDowell introduced herself first, her polished demeanor and neatly tied hair making it clear she came from an old wizarding family. “So, what’s Beauxbatons really like? Is it as uptight as everyone says?” she asked, her tone almost challenging.

Before you could respond, a petite girl with chin-length curls and bright eyes chimed in. “I’ve heard their students dance everywhere instead of walking. Is that true?” Clara Vane, bubbly and chatty, seemed more interested in myths about Beauxbatons than the actual answer.

Ethel Prescott, quieter but no less curious, had glanced up from her spellbook just long enough to add, “Do they really care that much about posture, or is that just Witch Weekly nonsense?”

The questions came in waves: Was perfect penmanship enforced? Could you actually speak French? Croissants or pumpkin pasties?

Later, the common room was no less daunting. More Slytherins introduced themselves, their names and faces blending together in a blur: Marcus Flint, Ava Vaisey, Natalia Gardner, Quincy Lloyd. Each seemed more self-assured than the last.

Still, you were grateful for Imelda and Ominis. Imelda’s sharp wit and unapologetic presence acted as a shield, while Ominis’s smooth interjections subtly steered conversations away from anything too intrusive. Between them, the chaos of your first night felt just a little less overwhelming.

You were thankful they were both already at the table when you entered The Great Hall for breakfast, the hum of conversation mingling with the clatter of silverware. You slid into the seat beside Imelda, who was already halfway through a plate of toast and bacon.

“You look like you didn’t sleep,” she observed, not bothering to pause mid-bite.

“Thanks for the reassurance,” you said dryly, pouring yourself a cup of tea. “I’m fine. Just adjusting.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,” Imelda said with a shrug. “Or you won’t, and you’ll spend the whole year complaining. Either way, you’ll survive.”

Your lips twitched in reluctant amusement.

Across the table, Ominis glanced up from his copy of The Daily Prophet. “First class is Defense Against the Dark Arts,” he said, his tone polite but matter-of-fact. “It’s with Professor Hecat. She can be... something.”

“Something?” you asked, curious.

“You’ll see,” Ominis replied cryptically before turning back to his paper.

Imelda grinned, clearly enjoying your curiosity. “Hecat’s a hardass,” she said. “But if you’re good, she’ll respect you. If you’re bad, well…” She trailed off with a wicked smirk.

“Sounds promising,” you muttered, taking a sip of tea.

Imelda shrugged, popping a piece of bacon into her mouth. “Hecat doesn’t coddle, that’s for sure. You’ll either love her or hate her by the end of the week. No in-between.”

Ominis lowered his paper slightly, his pale eyes flicking toward you. “She values precision and discipline. If you’ve got those, you’ll manage.”

“Good to know,” you said, feeling a small flicker of relief. If there was one thing Beauxbatons had drilled into its students, it was discipline. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Imelda tilted her head, studying you as if trying to gauge your confidence. “You’ll be fine,” she said finally, nudging your arm. “Just don’t let her catch you daydreaming or slacking off. She’s got eyes like a hawk.”

“Duly noted,” you replied, though your thoughts were already wandering as your gaze drifted across the Great Hall.

The morning sunlight streamed through the enchanted ceiling, casting warm golden hues over the long tables and filling the room with an energy that felt almost tangible. Conversations ebbed and flowed, bursts of laughter punctuating the steady hum of activity. You spotted a few familiar faces at the Slytherin table, but there were dozens more you didn’t recognize, their faces blurring together in a sea of green and silver robes.

Your eyes swept across the other tables, where students from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff mingled in their own lively clusters. The sheer number of them was overwhelming. After six years at Beauxbatons, where you’d known nearly everyone by name, Hogwarts felt like an endless sea of unfamiliar faces, each with their own stories and alliances. It left you feeling adrift, like a visitor who hadn’t quite found her footing.

And then, across the room, your gaze caught on a familiar shock of red hair.

Garreth Weasley sat at the Gryffindor table, his easy grin lighting up his freckled face as he animatedly recounted a story. The girls beside him—Cressida among them—listened with rapt attention, laughing at his punchlines. He leaned in closer, hands gesturing broadly, clearly basking in the attention.

To his left, Leander Prewett lounged in stark contrast, his chair tipped back at a perfect angle that somehow didn’t upset the impeccable press of his robes. Not a crease marred the fabric, and his hair, combed with meticulous precision, caught the light as if it had been styled moments ago. He sipped casually from his goblet, his gaze flicking toward Garreth now and then, a smirk playing at his lips like he was waiting for just the right moment to interrupt—or outshine—the scene.

When Leander’s eyes landed on you, the smirk shifted, softening into something warmer, more playful. He tilted his goblet in your direction—a subtle gesture of acknowledgment—before turning back to Garreth, leaning closer like the two were conspiring about something.

Imelda, ever observant, caught the exchange and smirked. “Looks like Prewett’s already taken a shine to you.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks and quickly looked down at your tea. “I doubt it,” you said, trying to sound dismissive. “Bu um… Am I allowed to go over there, or... is there some kind of unwritten rule about Slytherins and Gryffindors fraternizing?”

Imelda chuckled, leaning back in her seat with an air of amusement. “Allowed? It’s not like you’re sneaking into their common room. Unless it’s a formal meal, you can sit wherever you want, Chouette.”

Ominis lowered his paper slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching with a faint smile. “The rivalry is overstated,” he said smoothly. “Mostly about Quidditch and family legacies. It’s not as though there’s a ban friendship and conversation between houses.”

“Conversation, no,” Imelda added with a smirk. “But someone might throw a roll at you if you bring up Quidditch stats. Just don’t start a fight over breakfast.”

“So… you wouldn’t mind if I went to say hi?” you asked cautiously, your fingers fidgeting with the handle of your teacup.

Imelda waved a hand lazily. “Why would we care? Go on. Socialize.”

Ominis tilted his head, the faintest flicker of a smirk tugging at his lips. “But do be careful. If Garreth ropes you into one of his brilliant ideas, you’ll end up spending your first class in the hospital wing.”

Imelda snickered at that, but you ignored her, carefully picking up your tea and rising from your seat. With a small nod of acknowledgment to the pair, you turned toward the Gryffindor table, your heart beating a little faster as you crossed the room.

“Hi,” you said, your voice slightly breathless as you stopped near the edge of the Gryffindor group.

Garreth’s head shot up, his freckled face breaking into an immediate grin. “Chouette! Fancy seeing you over here.”

The girls beside him looked up as well. Cressida smiled warmly, scooting over to make room. “Garreth mentioned you,” she said kindly. “Join us!"

“I’m Natty,” The other girl added, her lilting accent kind. “It’s lovely to meet you. Sit down!”

You hesitated, glancing briefly at Leander sitting across from them. He offered you a polite, easy smile.

“I’m Leander Prewett,” he said, his voice smooth as he extended a hand. “You must be the famous Chouette.”

The nickname coming from a stranger made you falter for a moment, but his expression was open and friendly. You shook his hand briefly. “That’s me,” you said, sliding onto the bench next to Cressida. “Nice to meet you, Leander.”

“Likewise,” he said, leaning back slightly. “Weasley’s been talking about you nonstop since last night.”

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you turned to Garreth.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Garreth said with a laugh, spreading his hands in mock defense. “After Natty, you're the only other new student we've ever had in our year.”

“It’s true,” Leander chimed in, leaning back slightly with an easy grin. “You’re something of a novelty, Chouette. Fresh blood in a group that’s been together since we were eleven? Naturally, everyone’s curious.”

“Curious, sure,” Natty said with a smirk, her tone teasing as she glanced at Leander. “Some more than others.”

Leander shot her a playful glare, his grin unwavering. “I’m just being friendly.”

“Right,” Cressida said, dragging the word out as she exchanged a knowing look with Natty. “Friendly.”

You felt your cheeks warm as the group’s attention lingered on you, and you quickly looked down at your teacup. “I didn’t realize I was such a big deal.”

“Modest, too,” Garreth said, grinning. “Anyway, don’t worry. Hogwarts has a way of making people feel right at home—sometimes a little too much.”

Cressida nodded, her expression softening. “Give it a few weeks, and it’ll be like you’ve always been here.”

“Hopefully,” you said, smiling faintly. The warmth in their words eased some of the tension in your chest, though the weight of being the new face in a tightly knit group still lingered at the edges of your mind.

“Chouette is such an interesting nickname," Natty said, turning to you with a curious expression. "Where does it come from?”

“Oh,” you you laughed awkwardly. “It’s something Imelda started calling me when we were kids. I wrote an essay about owls when I was in a Muggle primary school because I was fascinated by wizard post... she thought it was hilarious, so the name stuck.”

“That’s adorable,” Cressida said with a laugh. “Better than some of the nicknames people come up with around here.”

“Agreed,” Leander said, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he grinned. “It suits you.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks again, and you quickly turned to Natty. “Are you all taking Defense Against the Dark Arts this morning?”

Natty nodded. “We are. First period.”

Relief flooded you at the idea of not having to navigate the castle alone. “That’s good to hear.”

“Stick with us,” Leander said, his smile easy. “We’ll make sure you don’t get lost—or end up in detention.”

As you sipped the last of your tea, your thoughts began to wander toward Defense Against the Dark Arts. You, of course, had six years of class under your belt from Beauxbatons, but it had always been carefully structured and precise, with students practicing spells on enchanted dummies or theoretical exercises. Actual dueling had been rare, restricted to the secret dueling association you’d been fortunate enough to join during your later years.

Would Hogwarts’ approach be different? You hoped so. Everything about this place felt rawer, less polished than Beauxbatons, and you hoped that extended to its curriculum.

The trek to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was brisk, the corridors of Hogwarts teeming with students. You kept close to Garreth, Natty, and Cressida, your eyes darting around as you tried to memorize the layout. The castle was as sprawling and maze-like as you’d expected, every turn revealing another staircase, corridor, or portrait that moved just enough to throw off your sense of direction.

“It’s like a labyrinth,” you muttered under your breath, glancing up at a painting of a knight who waved enthusiastically as you passed. “How does anyone find their way around here?”

“You don’t,” Garreth said with a grin, leading the group confidently down a corridor. “Not at first, anyway. You’ll get lost a few times, end up in a secret passage or two, maybe even a broom cupboard...”

“Reassuring,” you said dryly, though his cheerfulness was infectious.

Natty smiled, walking alongside you. “The trick is to remember key landmarks,” she offered helpfully.

Cressida chimed in, “And never trust Peeves to give you directions.”

You nodded, trying to take mental notes, but the sheer size of the castle was overwhelming. You were grateful to have them guiding you, especially as you climbed a narrow spiral staircase that seemed to stretch endlessly upward. By the time you reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, your legs were burning, and you made a mental note to pace yourself better in the future.

The classroom itself was impressive. Rows of desks were arranged in neat lines, and tall windows let in streams of golden light, illuminating shelves filled with spellbooks, artifacts, and jars of peculiar ingredients and specimens. A faint hum of magic seemed to linger in the air, subtle but unmistakable.

Professor Hecat was already at the front of the room, her presence commanding as she surveyed the students with sharp, hawkish eyes. There was an air of expectation about her, the kind that made you straighten in your seat without thinking.

Garreth nudged you lightly as you slid into a spot near the middle of the room. “This is going to be fun,” he whispered, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips.

You raised an eyebrow. “Fun?”

“Trust me,” he said, leaning back in his chair, his voice conspiratorial. “First class with Hecat is always good. You’ll see.”

Natty and Cressida sat nearby, offering encouraging smiles as the last of the students filed in. Before you could settle completely, your gaze was drawn to the back of the room where Sebastian sauntered in just before the door swung shut. His tie hung loose around his neck, and his posture was as relaxed as ever, though his sharp brown eyes flicked across the room like he was sizing everyone up. He slid into a seat near the back with the other Slytherins—Ominis and Imelda among them—and leaned back in his chair as though the classroom belonged to him.

You couldn’t help but notice the brief look exchanged between Sebastian and Leander as the latter slid into the seat behind you. It was subtle but unmistakable—the narrowing of Sebastian’s eyes and the sharp tilt of Leander’s head, his easy grin firmly in place but carrying a faint edge, almost like a challenge. The tension between them hung in the air, unspoken but palpable.

Your thoughts drifted to the carriage ride with Imelda the day before. Sebastian Sallow—Hogwarts’ most persistent heartbreak. Next to Leander Prewett, of course.

The faint smile that tugged at your lips was involuntary. Beauxbatons had its own version of this rivalry—Étienne, the effortlessly charming Quidditch captain, and Hugo, the razor-sharp dueling star. The two had been locked in a constant battle, always trying to outshine one another in accolades and romantic flings. It had been amusing to watch from the sidelines, though exhausting to imagine being caught in the crossfire.

Now, watching Leander and Sebastian, the similarities were uncanny.

Professor Hecat stepped forward, her voice cutting through the room like a whip and breaking you out of your thoughts. “Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts,” she said, her tone clipped and no-nonsense. “If you’re expecting an easy year, I suggest you rethink your priorities. This class is not for the faint of heart or the lazy. You will be tested, challenged, and—if you work hard—rewarded.”

The room was silent, every student sitting up a little straighter under her piercing gaze.

“Today,” she continued, pacing slowly, “we will begin with a practical demonstration. Theory has its place, but to kick off the semester, you will learn by doing. Wands out.”

There was a collective rustling as everyone reached for their wands. Your pulse quickened as you gripped yours tightly, the weight familiar and reassuring in your hand. Garreth was right. This would be good; it was the moment you’d been hoping for. Real practice, real dueling, not just theory or practice dummies.

Professor Hecat’s sharp eyes swept the room, her gaze lingering on each student as if she could see straight into their thoughts. When her eyes landed on you, they narrowed slightly, a spark of curiosity flickering in their depths.

“You,” she said sharply, pointing her wand in your direction. “Miss Beauxbatons.”

You blinked, startled at being addressed so directly. “Yes, Professor?”

“I’d like to see what you can do,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Let’s get a sense of where you stand in comparison to the rest of the class.”

The room murmured softly, a ripple of interest running through the students. Garreth shot you an encouraging grin, but you could feel the weight of every eye on you as you stood.

Professor Hecat flicked her wand, and the room transformed in an instant. Desks slid to the edges of the room, creating an open space in the center. The floor shimmered briefly before solidifying into a raised dueling platform.

You climbed onto it, your wand feeling heavier than usual in your hand. The hum of magic in the room seemed louder now, or maybe it was just the pounding of your heart.

“Now,” Hecat said, turning to the back of the room, “we’ll need someone to test her mettle.”

You had a sinking feeling you knew exactly who she was going to call on. Mister Duelling Prodigy himself.

“Mr. Sallow?"

Sebastian, who had been lounging in his chair with all the grace of a cat stretched in the sun, straightened slightly. His expression shifted from mild boredom to faint interest as he stood and strolled toward the platform with a slow, deliberate gait.

The room erupted into whispers, a mix of excitement and curiosity rippling through the class. It was clear this wasn’t the first time Sebastian had been called upon for a demonstration, and judging by the looks on his classmates’ faces, he had a reputation to back up his arrogance.

You shifted slightly, your grip tightening on your wand. The platform suddenly felt much smaller as Sebastian turned his attention to you, his brown eyes sharp and assessing. His smirk widened just enough to set your teeth on edge.

“Try to keep up," he said lightly, his tone almost teasing.

You could feel the weight of the class’s collective attention pressing down on you, their excitement palpable. He was clearly used to this—being the center of attention, being the best.

But you had something to prove.

Professor Hecat stepped between you, her voice cutting through the whispers like a blade. “The goal is to disarm your opponent. No spells beyond fifth-year curriculum, no excessive force. Do I make myself clear?”

“Bien sûr,” you said firmly, your heart pounding with a mix of nerves and determination.

Sebastian gave a lazy nod, his smirk never faltering. “Crystal.”

Hecat stepped back, raising her wand. “Bow.”

You both dipped into formal bows, though Sebastian’s was laced with a mocking flourish that made your jaw tighten. As you straightened, his wand was already at the ready.

“Begin!” Hecat commanded, and the duel was on.

Sebastian struck first, quick and confident, his Expelliarmus streaking toward you like a red arrow. You twisted your wrist, deflecting it with a sharp Protego, the spell rebounding harmlessly into the air.

“Not bad,” he said, moving fluidly into a Flipendo, the knockback jinx aimed squarely at your chest. You sidestepped, countering with a precise Stupefy that forced him to block with his own Protego.

The spells came fast and relentless, the platform crackling with magic as the duel intensified. Sebastian was good—no, he was excellent. His movements were smooth and calculated, each spell flowing seamlessly into the next. He pressed the offensive, forcing you to rely on quick reflexes and defensive spells to hold your ground.

But he wasn’t the only one who’d mastered his spellwork.

You quickly found your rhythm, slipping into the familiar flow of a duel. At Beauxbatons, the secret dueling association had taught you to think two steps ahead, to anticipate your opponent’s moves and exploit their weaknesses. And Sebastian, for all his skill, had one glaring flaw—his arrogance.

He expected you to falter, to stay on the defensive. So you didn’t.

A well-timed Depulso sent him skidding back, his balance momentarily compromised. Seizing the opening, you cast Arresto Momentum, slowing him just enough to fire off a rapid Stupefy. He blocked it with a grunt, his smirk slipping as he realized you weren’t just keeping up—you were pushing him.

The class murmured in astonishment as the duel raged on. You could feel their energy feeding into yours, the thrill of the challenge sharpening your focus. Sebastian’s smirk was gone now, replaced by a look of concentration, his brown eyes narrowing as he adjusted his strategy.

“You’re full of surprises, Chouette” he said, his voice slightly breathless as he dodged a Rictusempra.

“And you’re full of yourself,” you shot back, firing a precise hex that grazed his shoulder.

He retaliated with a powerful Incendio, the flames licking dangerously close, but you countered with a quick Aguamenti, extinguishing them mid-air. The crowd erupted into cheers at the display, their excitement fueling the competitive fire burning in your chest.

Sebastian lunged forward, attempting another Flipendo, but you deflected it, your wand moving like an extension of your arm. With a sharp flick, you cast Expelliarmus again, putting every ounce of precision into the spell.

This time, it hit its mark.

Sebastian’s wand flew from his hand, spiraling through the air with a sharp twirl. Without thinking, you reached out and caught it mid-flight. The room erupted into cheers and gasps, the sound crashing over you like a wave as you stood there, both wands in hand.

Sebastian froze, his expression flickering between disbelief and something far more reluctant. His chest rose and fell with deep breaths, his sharp brown eyes locked onto you. The smirk he so often wore was nowhere to be seen.

For a moment, you simply stared at each other, the hum of victory vibrating in your veins.

"Holy shit," Imelda’s voice cut through the cheers and murmurs, loud enough to carry across the room. “Sebastian just lost a duel.”

The words seemed to ripple through the crowd, and the excited murmuring grew louder. Students leaned toward each other, exchanging wide-eyed whispers, their gazes darting between you and Sebastian.

“Has that ever happened?” someone asked.

“No way,” another voice replied. “Sallow’s supposed to be the best in our year.”

“Well, not anymore,” a Hufflepuff piped up, her tone equal parts amused and impressed.

Sebastian didn’t move for a long moment, his gaze fixed on you as though trying to reconcile what had just happened. Slowly, he extended his hand, his expression shifting to something you couldn’t quite place.

You stepped forward and handed Sebastian his wand, your fingers brushing briefly against his as you leaned in, your voice low but clear. “Try and keep up next time.”

The words hung in the air and Sebastian’s frown deepened. For a moment, you thought he might fire back a retort, but instead, he closed his fingers around his wand, his jaw tight as he stepped off the platform, his shoulders stiff.

The room was still buzzing with chatter as Professor Hecat raised her voice, attempting to restore order. “Enough,” she barked, her sharp tone cutting through the noise. “This is a classroom, not the Quidditch pitch. Pair up and prepare to spar. I expect focus, not theatrics. Otherwise, I'll have to read for the rest of class."

The class scrambled to comply, but the energy in the room was electric, the whispers continuing in hushed tones. You stepped off the platform, the adrenaline still thrumming through your veins, and made your way toward Imelda and Ominis.

Imelda was grinning from ear to ear, her expression equal parts amused and impressed. “Well, look at you,” she said, nudging your arm. “First day, and you’ve already knocked Sallow down a peg. That’s one for the history books.”

Ominis, standing beside her, tilted his head in your direction. “I’ve never seen another student best him in a duel,” he said evenly, though there was a note of disbelief in his tone. “Not once.”

You shrugged, trying to play it off as casually as possible, though your cheeks were still warm from the attention. “He’s good,” you admitted. “Really good. But not good enough.”

Imelda laughed. “Oh, he’s never going to live this down. You’ve officially unseated the king of dueling.”

Before you could respond, several students began approaching, their eagerness evident as they jostled to catch your attention.

“That was incredible,” one Ravenclaw boy said, his blue robes swishing as he stepped forward. “Would you mind partnering with me for practice?”

“Partner with me!” another Hufflepuff chimed in, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “I want to learn how you pulled off that Arresto Momentum combo.”

“I called dibs first,” a Gryffindor interjected, earning a glare from the others.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden influx of attention as Imelda smirked, crossing her arms. “Looks like you’re in demand, Chouette.”

Ominis inclined his head, his tone dry. “If I were you, I’d choose carefully. Some of these students are less… coordinated than others.”

Professor Hecat clapped her hands again, her gaze sweeping over the crowd. “If you’ve found a partner, take your positions. If not, you’ll be paired randomly.”

You glanced around at the eager faces vying for your attention, but your gaze ultimately landed on Ominis. “Would you like to pair up?” you asked, keeping your tone casual but hopeful.

Imelda let out an exaggerated gasp, her hand flying to her chest in mock offense. “What’s this? You’re skipping over your oldest friend?”

You shot her an amused look. “No offense, Imelda, but you’ve always been better on a broom than in a duel.”

Imelda laughed, clearly not taking it personally. “Fair point,” she said with a grin. “I guess I’ll go find someone who can appreciate my ‘less polished’ technique.”

Ominis quirked an eyebrow in your direction, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Are you sure? I’m certainly not as talented as you and... I'm not exactly flashy.”

“That’s perfect,” you replied, your voice low enough for only him to hear. “I’ve had enough theatrics for one day. Besides, I get the feeling you’re more talented than you let on.”

His smirk widened slightly as he inclined his head. “Well then, I'd be happy to partner up.”

Together, you stepped into the center of the room, finding a spot to practice. Unlike the duel with Sebastian, there was no buzzing anticipation from the class or weighty pressure hanging in the air. This was practice—a chance to focus, to refine.

As you anticipated, Ominis moved with deliberate precision, each spell measured and exact. You quickly fell into a steady rhythm with him, the exchange of spells flowing smoothly. There was no animosity, no urge to win—just the shared goal of improvement, and it was almost relaxing, except for the occasional awareness of being watched.

You could feel Sebastian’s eyes on you.

Though you didn’t look in his direction, the weight of his gaze was impossible to ignore, like a smoldering ember pressing against your back.

You hardly noticed how much time had passed until Professor Hecat called out, her voice sharp and commanding, “That’s enough for today. Well done, everyone. You’re dismissed.”

The room filled with the clatter of students packing their bags and murmuring amongst themselves, the electric energy of the earlier duel still lingering. You lowered your wand, offering Ominis a small smile. “Thanks for pairing up with me,” you said, genuinely appreciative.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, his tone warm but composed. "Perhaps we can do it again next time we have duelling practice."

Imelda sauntered over, slinging her bag over one shoulder. “So, Chouette, are you planning to take over the whole school, or just Defense Against the Dark Arts? Because at this rate, you’re going to have everyone eating out of your hand.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I’m just trying to survive my first week, Mel.”

The two of you began making your way toward the door, the noise of the dispersing class surrounding you. You were almost at the exit when a voice cut through the chatter.

“Wait.”

You turned to see Sebastian standing a few steps behind you, his hands shoved into his robe pockets, his expression carefully neutral.

Imelda raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you. “This should be good,” she muttered under her breath, crossing her arms as she leaned casually against the doorframe.

He ignored her, keeping his attention fixed on you. "Has anyone told you about Crossed Wands yet?”

Your eyebrows lifted slightly. “No.”

“It’s a dueling club,” he said, his smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth just enough to feel like a challenge. “Unofficial, but it’s where the best duelists go to push themselves. If you’re looking for more of what you got today, it’s the place to be.”

You hummed noncommittally, tilting your head as if weighing his words. “And I suppose you’re the reigning champion?”

His smirk deepened, leaning fully into his usual arrogance. “Naturally.”

Imelda scoffed from where she stood beside you, arms crossed. “And yet, someone just knocked you off your throne.”

Sebastian shot her a look, but it lacked his usual bite, as though he couldn’t be bothered to engage. His gaze returned to you, a flicker of challenge in his eyes. “Well, not officially,” he said, his smirk tugging wider. “But I’m always looking for a good challenge. If you’re interested, introduce yourself to Lucan Brattleby in Gryffindor. He runs the club. Just tell him I sent you.”

You raised an eyebrow, studying him carefully. “I’ll think about it."

Sebastian nodded once before turning back toward the remaining students, his usual self-assured air firmly in place. Imelda wasted no time tugging on your arm, leading you out the door with a grin tugging at her lips.

As soon as you were out in the corridor, she let out a low chuckle. “Well, well. It seems Sallow likes you, after all. You've been here a day and the school's most coveted guys are all over you.”

You scoffed, glancing at her like she’d grown a second head. “Come on, Mel. Get real.”

“I'm serious,” she said, her grin widening. "Seb’s definitely interested. Did you see the way he kept looking at you?”

“I don’t care how he was looking at me,” you shot back, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “Within five minutes of meeting him, he insulted me. I’m not holding my breath for some big redemption arc.”

Imelda raised her hands in mock surrender, though the mischievous glint in her eyes made it clear she wasn’t dropping the topic anytime soon. She opened her mouth to retort, but you cut her off with a shake of your head, your tone firm and exasperated.

“Believe whatever you want,” you said, “but I have zero interest in trying to figure out what’s going on in his head. I’m here to focus on school, not Sebastian Sallow.”

“Alright, whatever you say,” Imelda replied, her grin still firmly in place. “But don’t come crying to me when he’s suddenly dueling other guys for your honor.”

“That’s not happening,” you said flatly, quickening your pace to move ahead of her. “End of story.”

Imelda trailed after you, her smirk firmly in place but, for once, choosing to keep her thoughts to herself. For now. Instead, she focused on guiding you through Hogwarts’ maze-like corridor.

Sebastian Sallow might have everyone else’s attention, but as far as you were concerned, he could keep it. You had far more pressing matters to focus on—like making it through your first day unscathed.

← Previous Chapter Next Chapter →

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myokk · 8 months ago

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“They were once again standing on either side of the elegant stone pensieve, white-knuckled hands gripping its edges as they stared, wide-eyed, at each other. Their faces were so close together that the air Eloise breathed out was inhaled by Sebastian.

They stayed like that for seconds, minutes, hours, unable - unwilling - to break the spell.”

From chapter 11 of my fic 😇

#now KISS 😇😇#jajajajajajaj not for like 10 more chapters I LOVE a slow burn🥹#tbh as soon as I played the restricted section quest I basically stopped playing the game bc I got the idea for this fic 😆#I changed that whole quest completely and now my story doesn’t follow the game AT ALL jajajajajajajaj #let’s just say…the memory Eloise sees in the restricted section is NOT like in the game AT ALL🙏#anyways driving my neighbors crazy bc I’m listening to the same two songs on repeat😇😇😇😇😇😇😇😇😇#wait what the heck I’ll just reblog with the songs!! they are so Seb/eloise in my mind #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanart #hphl #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #sebastian sallow #eloise babbit #sebastian sallow fanart #sebastian sallow x mc #ARGH AUTOCORRECT THIS IS WHY I SHOILD JUST COPY AND PASTE !!!!#I hate my Spanish keyboard fr!!!!!

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syaolaurant · 3 months ago

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It's Violette's birthday today so I decided to finally give her a kiss 💋 😘

P/s: Thanks for the birthday gift everyone 🥰💓💓 I love them so so much. Vi is spending her time with Seb right now so she'll get back to you soon 😉 Love ya all 😘😘😘

#been drawing Vi for almost 4 months but they've never kissed hahahahaaa #I love slow burn romance #it“ll be very VERY SLOW omg #also this year is my last twenty -th birthday 😭😭😭#I still cant accept that I'll turn 30 next year I'm mentally 18 😭😭#time flies so fast #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #sebastian sallow #violette laurant #hogwarts legacy oc #sebastian sallow x mc #watercolor #now Im going to sleep

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cursedonyx · 1 year ago

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Rushed lil doodle from Chapter 35 of my fic. Flipped because for some reason it looks better this way.

Links to the fic and my other nonsense in my masterlist

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt x mc #mc x sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy fanfic #slow burn #patronus #dementors #throuple

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hollowwrites · 1 year ago

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Summer of 6th Year

Ominis x MC Rewrite

Summary - I hate, hate hate, thinking about Ominis with his family. I don’t like to think about what the summer between 5th and 6th year would have been like for him. Too upsetting. The boi deserves better. But I’m taking my own head canon of 5th year into account (part 5 of Blindsided shh) and suddenly it’s not as sad?

Warnings - Mostly just sad thinking about what could have happened during the summer but none of it is mentioned specifically

Word Count - 2393

The chug of the steam trains pistons started to fade into the distance as it continued on its journey. With the last train now gone that would mean all attending students to Hogwarts were on the grounds.

However, Ominis was yet to find Evelyn.

He swept his wand broadly across the platform at the remaining students idly chatting or waiting for their friends. With the crowd thinning further, he had hoped she had seen him and he would soon be sent hurtling to the ground in her embrace.

Perhaps she had decided not to return. After the 5th year they both shared, he couldn’t blame her. But his heart sank at the idea. Or maybe she had seen him, and ignored him entirely.

He couldn’t work out which was worse.

Garreth remained patrolling the bottom of the stairs leading out of Hogsmeade station, counting how many Weasleys were arriving and squinting at every new ginger kid that bounced towards the castle. As Ominis approached him, he eyed him cautiously. The Blonde Slytherin didn’t look like someone returning to Hogwarts but rather someone who had been sentenced to life in Azkaban. His features were heavy with fatigue and his deep set eyes blinked unenthusiastically in Garreth’s direction.

He looked, truly…

…Gaunt.

“Hello Garreth, you haven’t seen Evelyn have you?”

“Yeah, she’s just asked me the exact same question, she’s…Merlin where has she gone?” Garreth peered over the sea of first years being ushered up to the castle to be sorted. “I swear I just saw her, she-“

“Ominis!”

And there it was.

The voice that calmed him like no other. The voice that could call to him even in the darkest of places. The voice he had heard rattling around his head for six long weeks, each time it would change and morph. Like he was slowly forgetting who she was.

But oh was it sweet now…

His Evelyn…

Garreth watched as Ominiss’ shoulders visibly relaxed and he immediately turned in the direction of her voice. He laughed at the twitch of Ominis’ lips threatening to break into a smile at the mere mention of his name.

Wand in hand he strode towards her, hearing the loud patter of her feet as she ran towards him. Before long, her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down to her height.

So small. He had forgot that too…

“I missed you so much” Evelyn muffled into his neck. Pocketing his wand quickly, his arms snaked around her. One along her waist, pulling her ever closer till there was no gap between them. The other soon joined cushioned behind her thighs as he scooped her clean off the ground. The elated scream that erupted from her lips vibrated through her chest where Ominis pressed his ear. He sighed contently.

Her heartbeat.

He didn’t need to be this close to hear it, of course. But why not when she was so willing? It hammered strong and erratic against his head, rattling his brain.

A reminder she was alive.

“Oh you have no idea how much I’ve missed you” he muffled into her arm, wrapped around his head. She cradled him as much for stability as for comfort.

When the pair broke away, minutes after, the platform was almost empty. Garreth bid them both a quick farewell before his departure. No doubt off to watch the horde of Weasleys get sorted into Gryffindor.

Both Ominis and Eve decided to take the longer, more scenic route back to the castle, catching up on their summer in a more private and beautiful setting.

“So how is Anne?” He asked earnestly.

“She’s doing really well” Eve beamed “Her fits are down to 2 or 3 times a day, depending on what we’ve been doing, if she’s feeling well. There’s a lot of factors but…she’s getting there”

“And Sebastian?” Her stride slowed somewhat at his follow up question

“I haven’t heard from him” she linked her arm with his giving it a little squeeze. The closest thing they could get to a hug whilst they slowly ascended to Hogwarts. “Have you?”

“Not even one owl” Ominis replied blankly, finding it easier to lie about his summer than offload his own problems onto the already fretting Evelyn.

“We did the right thing. Yes? Yes.” She fiddled with her fingers around his arm, picking at her nails as she was known to do. He placed his hand over hers to stop her anxious habit.

“He probably just needs some time” Ominis said convincing himself as much as he was convincing her.

An uncomfortable silence crept up on the pair.

So it was going to be like this again

“I thought you would have visited…” Evelyn’s voice was quiet, barely there as she effortlessly broke his heart in two.

“I…was busy” Ominis lied

“I went to Feldcroft to see you. See if Sebastian had returned and how you were faring…You were never there”

Anne spoke of Ominis often. It seemed they were close. Annoyingly close if Evelyn was being honest. The rancid taste of jealousy rose on her throat whenever the sick Sallow said his name with a tone of affection. Despite that though she had proved to be a valuable resource of information about him. About how they’d spend summers together. How they often slept under the stars whilst the Sallow twins described different constellations for their blind counter part.

And how vile and twisted his family were.

Surely he would rather return to an empty homestead than his family

Evelyn’s stomach remained constantly in flux over her summer. Anne: Cursed. Sebastian: missing. Ominis: unaccounted for.

“I was out rather a lot. Holidays. Day trips. The like…” He lied once more. Easily.

If he were to tell anyone it would be Evelyn. She got the Scriptorium location from him. He trusted her. Right?

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. He would tell her in his own time but it was killing her, this unknown.

So they simply walked back in silence.

The sorting ceremony happened with no major catastrophes or drama. As everyone filed out to go about their nightly routine, find their common room or just get reacquainted with one another, Ominis could hear a gossipy bunch of younger students just ahead. The topic of their conversation piqued his interest away from the infamous student still clinging to his arm.

“Who is that? They weren’t in the hall?” The young Ravenclaw said

“Nope not at our table either. That is green isn’t it? Slytherin?” The Slytherin girl sneered

“Oh that’s just Sebastian Sallow” The eldest student replied.

Ominis froze.

No mistaking it. The habitual tapping of his foot. The impatient huff of air on every second breath. The smell of smoke, embers and coffee.

There, stood leaning against the wall in the foyer between the parted sea of students, was his oldest friend. Ominis remained stationary. Stuck in place by a mixture of emotions none quite strong enough to rise to the surface.

One thing rattled around his head more than anything though…

How dare he?

“What’s wrong?” The tiny voice of Evelyn rang hollow in his ears as Sebastian pushed himself off the wall and made his way over.

Eve followed Ominis’ sightless gaze and her eyes met with Sebastian. She stared at him, unknowing of what she wanted to do. She missed her friend. She wanted to embrace the boy whose sister she now cared for. The boy who showed her that secret place deep in the belly of Hogwarts. The boy who showed her spells and mysteries and new places across the region. The boy whose smile, that was currently plastered across his face, had manipulated her into doing stupid and unforgivable things.

She blinked away images of Anne. She saw her in Sebastian face more clearly now she was almost free of that curse. The nights she stayed up with her over those six weeks, well into the early hours, crying over the loss of her brother.

Now she wanted to hit him.

Make him feel a fraction of the pain he had caused his sister in his absence. Anne’s voice sang in her ear;

‘Us Sallows are thick-brained stubborn mules. He just needs time as much as I need time. I don’t want to see him right now, but I miss him. Does that make sense?’

Eve’s hand fell from Ominis as she hugged herself tightly. Fighting every fibre in her being from doing…something.

“Hello you two. Long time no see” His voice was thick with a confidence only he could muster.

“‘Long time no see’?” Ominiss’ signature sharp tone returned, his voice rising in volume causing Sebastian to flinch somewhat and a plethora of nosy student to turn their way.

“I just mean-“

“Ominis please-“ Evelyn begged seeing the last few students leaving, turn to look at the scene. She glared at them until they realised the drama, wasn’t worth their life. She was the new fifth year after all.

“She wrote you. She went to Feldcroft. Where were you? She put herself in danger for you! Again!” Ominis took a step toward Sebastian, his wand blinking faster giving him a better layout of the situation he found himself in.

“I didn’t ask you too” Sebastian followed suite, both boys leaning forward as though a physically fight was only moments away. Then Evelyn realised...the last time they saw one another, Ominis had his hand wrapped around Sebastian’s throat, and his wand buried harshly in his temple.

“Don’t rope me into this. I’ve had to silently worry for six weeks, Sebastian. I couldn’t write. I couldn’t visit. I couldn’t leave because I had to spend my summer with family” Sebastian retreated slightly mouth going slack as he processed what he said

“You didn’t stay with Eve?”

“Why would I do that to her? She’s already tending to your sister. And you didn’t exactly extend me an invitation like you have every other year” Ominis’ anger slipped a fraction, betraying the hurt behind his words, his brows pulled upwards.

“You didn’t stay at Feldcroft?” Eve yanked at Ominis’ arm forcing him to face her.

“No I…”

“Ominis…” Sebastian reached out to Ominiss’ shoulder, placing a comforting hand upon the taller Slytherin.

“Are you okay?” Eve said taking his cheek in her hand. Ominis didn’t answer.

His head filled with those six dreaded weeks. Waking to screaming as they tortured yet another muggle. Being denied meals for refusing to participate. And of course the immediate punishment. Crucio. That word had been uttered more over those six weeks than he cared to remember.

Though he couldn’t really.

Whether it was his minds self preservation or had chosen to forget, he didn’t know. Those weeks were a blur. All he could remember was pain, the fetid smell of that old Manor House and incessant questioning of ‘The Hero of Hogwarts’.

Of course they had heard about her power. and of course, they wanted it for themselves. Thankfully, from what he could gather, they had no clue who she was. Neither witch or wizard, muggleborn or pureblood. They didn’t know. And Ominis would keep it that way.

Whilst Ominis’ mind was reeling, the anguished expression on his face evidence of that, Sebastian was pacing, muttering to himself over and over.

What he always did when he was thinking.

Dangerous.

“So I wasn’t at Feldcroft because I went to look for Solomon” Sebastian spoke with a determination that didn’t suit the topic he had randomly brought up. “I couldn’t find him. His friends, those that he had left, old Aurors, I even asked Sharp for some contacts. Nothing. I assume he’s took another name and fled. Anyway, that means Feldcroft is mine now…”

Sebastian turned to his friend, all determination and stubbornness leaving him. All that was left was compassion and love for a boy he failed to protect. Like he always had.

“You live with me now.” He grabbed Ominis by the shoulders giving him a singular light shake.

“Sebastian-“

“No! Even if you don’t want to, I-I-I can make myself scarce…or at least it’s an option. You don’t have to go back there. You can’t…I can’t protect you there. I can’t…” Sebastian searched Ominis’ eyes for any resistance. Worse. There was none. He’d given up.

“It’s not that simple” Ominis spoke quietly, heavy with despair

“Or me. You can stay with me.” Eve smiled up at him before pulling herself into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist “You’ve spoken very little about your family, I know it’s bad but... I’m so sorry. I should’ve known. I should’ve offered to-”

“Shhh” Ominis hushed softly, his arm wrapping limply around her shoulders and smoothing her soft hair against her head. Sebastian followed suit and wrapped his arms around them both and squeezing.

After a moment, Ominis relented his shaky arms wrapped around the two of them, resting his chin on Evelyns head.

“I’ve missed you both so much” Ominis finally spoke, his voice quiet and not quite carrying the normal gravitas that it did. It was broken. And soft.

Sebastian was the first to pull away, though kept his hands upon his two best friends. His smile was charming, as it always was.

“I give it till the middle of first term. Then you’ll be sick of us again” Sebastian grinned pulling away from them.

“Please, tomorrow afternoon and he’ll ban us from the Undercroft” Eve smirked, giving Ominis one last squeeze before releasing him.

“Now” Sebastian rubbed his hands together “Is there any of that food left? Unlike some people when I’m late I don’t like drawing attention to it and I’m hungry!”

Ominis sighed and for once allowed the twitch of his lips to take over.

It felt good to be back.

Bonus:

“She wrote me six times over summer” Sebastian burst through the door of the boys dorm, a huge knapsack in one hand and a small stack of letters in the other.

“You sound mad about that” Ominis put his book down, knowing no more reading would be done if Sebastian was in a mood

“I am! Look at this” He began to shovel the contents of the bag onto Ominiss’ bed. “These are all for you! There’s at least thirty!”

“Oh!” He felt his cheeks start to burn, feeling the parchment between his fingers

“Honestly it’s as though we didn’t commit multiple crimes together”

Masterlist

Original

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xreaderbooks · 2 years ago

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The Shadows of Our Love Masterlist | Sebastian Sallow

Sebastian Sallow x Reader (Platonic! Garreth Weasley x Reader, Platonic! Ominis Gaunt x Reader)

Navigation - Playlist - Wattpad and AO3 - Moodboard 1

Following the events of Hogwarts Legacy: Tension rises in the Hamlets as well as in the house of Slytherin as Sebastian Sallow has taken to avoiding Y/n since the beginning of the school year. The lack of communication causes a rift between the once-close friends, both yearning for the other yet never fully expressing themselves to one another.

This school year was meant for studying, friends, and trying to rekindle her friendship with Sebastian Sallow who is set on avoiding her.

Y/n L/n is back at Hogwarts for her fifth year, left with an insurmountable amount of guilt, trauma, and ancient magic that she has lost control of over the summer; she must learn how to overcome her internal battle while also fighting a new one this year. With talk of a high society group called Death Reapers; Y/n must once again find the strength to fight for the wizarding world and confront her love for Sebastian Sallow.

Aged-up characters: 17-18 (6th years)

Slowburn - Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Hogwarts Legacy spoilers! Language, Violence, Death, Torture, Angst, Implied sexual content (no smut), SLOW BURN ASF

Chapter 1 | In the Shadow of Return

Chapter 2 | In the Shadow of Potions

Chapter 3 | In the Shadow of Evasion

Chapter 4 | In the Shadow of Strength

Chapter 5 | In the Shadow of Truth

Chapter 6 | In the Shadow of Rumors

Chapter 7 | In the Shadow of Quidditch

Chapter 8 | In the Shadow of Promises

Chapter 9 | In the Shadow of Interest

Chapter 10 | In the Shadow of Letters

Chapter 11 | In the Shadow of Duels

Chapter 12 | In the Shadow of Detention last updated: 8/15/23

Chapter 13 | In the Shadow of

Chapter 14 | In the Shadow of

Chapter 15 | In the Shadow of

more chapters to follow...

Y/n’s 6th year schedule:

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction, The author of this story has no ownership of any of the characters in the Hogwarts Legacy video game. Some dialogue is taken from the story set in Hogwarts Legacy. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and some scenes where the original character is involved are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

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trappezoider · 2 years ago

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Finally finished the sixth chapter of my Sebinis fanfiction😭A huge, massive thank you to trello, my beta-reader. Couldn't have made it this far without her. She has improved my writing tremendously! This is very much a slow burn piece, planning on having it to be 20 chapters long at least :D Things will start escalating very soon though ;) The art below was originally made for the latest chapter of this fic so now I can finally add context to it. So happy!

#sebinis #ominis x sebastian #sebastian x ominis #gauntlow #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #ominis #sebastian #harry potter #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #slow burn #fluff

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morelikeravenbore · 7 months ago

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🦋 Today marks one year since I published my first chapter of How to Make a Villain and what better way to celebrate than finally letting the bebes have THEIR FIRST OFFICIAL CANON SMOOCH in chapter twenty-two!!

I have many things to say about my solid whole-ass year of publishing but not enough spoons to spoon the words into coherence today, so for now here's what I think might possibly be the best paragraph I've ever written (I SAY THIS AS HUMBLY POSSIBLE BUT I REALLY PUT MY ENTIRE SOUL INTO THIS CHAPTER LOLOL)

Sebastian had always been at the mercy of some power greater than himself: the lure of the Dark Arts, the ceaseless march of Death down every avenue of his life, but never — never — had he been at the mercy of love. Stained though his heart was by Death's inky-black touch, there had always remained a tiny spark therein; a glimmer of hope that drove him forward, urging him toward something he didn't fully understand, some destination that existed not as a name or a coordinate on a map, but as a feeling. A feeling that had always remained vague and undefinable —until he found it living in her.

How to Make a Villain, chapter twenty-two. wattpad | ao3

Writing Villain has been one of the best decisions I've ever made for so many reasons, but especially because it connected me to so many incredible people in this fandom who enrich my life every day. 🫵

#sebastian sallow #aurelie collins #sebaura #how to make a villain #morelikeravenbore writes #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow slow burn

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cosmetologynerd · 2 years ago

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Invisible String - Sebastian Sallow x FEM!OC

Sebastian Sallow and Abigail Crane agreed that it was best to part ways after the tragic events of their fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. So part ways they did, both set out to pretend that the things they'd experienced together were behind them entirely. But after a year of being apart, a year that most would describe as utterly peaceful, a new mystery seems intent on pulling them back together again- but is that really the worst thing?

Note: Hiiiiiii guys!!!! I have been obsessed with Hogwarts Legacy, like everyone else and it’s brought me out of retirement. I’m obsessed with my boy Sebastian here and I can’t seem to stop writing. The first 14 chapters are live on Wattpad under the same user name if you guys prefer that platform! I hope you enjoy ❤️

THIS STORY WILL HAVE MATURE CONTENT! This includes graphic descriptions of death, torture, and a variety of other experiences. If this may trigger or upset you, please do not read as I do not want to trigger anyone. I will do my best to put trigger warnings on chapters with particularly graphic content but know that it will be throughout the entire story and I won't be headlining chapters with trigger warnings unless it is extremely necessary.

~ Hogwarts Legacy story spoilers, told via flash backs, particularly of the Sebastian Sallow quest line. There will also be spoilers for the main quest line!

~ All characters are aged up as this story is told in 7th year.

~ Abigail Crane (Abbi) is my OC, but you are welcome to read this as a reader insert if it feels better to you!

~ All Hogwarts Legacy characters are owned by Warner Brothers and Avalanche Software! I do not own any characters that you have met in Hogwarts Legacy.

Teaser

Everything hurt. It was the first thing I registered as I woke blearily from a clearly trauma induced haze.

My arms and legs ached from the position they were tied back in, one eye swollen shut from the array of curses that they had thrown at me, throat raw, a small trail of blood flowing freely from my ear. A faint ringing sound filled one ear- though I couldn't pinpoint which- and I hoped I hadn't lost my hearing.

Despite my pain, despite the obvious danger I was in, all I could think about was what they could be doing to him. I had to get to him, had to find him- if he was hurt, it would be my fault. Oh, god, what if he was already dead?

No. He couldn't be dead. I refused to let myself even think about him like that. Not now that I'd finally gotten him back. His brown eyes and freckled face swam in my thoughts, his lips pulled into a smile as he leaned towards me. It was so vivid I had to remind myself he wasn't directly in front of me, had to put myself back in the reality of my situation.

I was here, tied to a chair, being tortured and I had no idea where they were keeping him.

I needed to focus on me.

"What have you done to him?" I rasp out, my voice thick with my own blood, rawness of my throat really pronounced once I spoke.

"He is in much better shape than you," a voice spoke faintly from my left. So that was the ear that was bleeding.

"C'mon now, darling girl, just tell us what we want to know, and this will all be over soon."

His voice sounded familiar to me, but I couldn't pull myself out of my pain induced haze long enough to place him.

"I don't know anything," I said again, the same answer I'd repeatedly told my captors. If I was honest, sure, the pain would stop. But I had a feeling that the pain wouldn't stop because they'd choose to let me go. No, the pain would only stop when I stopped breathing. Until I could confirm he was safe, was out of harms way, I wasn't going to give them that satisfaction.

"Tsk, tsk, little girl. I wish you wouldn't lie to me," the voice said again. It was gravely, thick and accented. I knew I had heard it before.

Someone else shouted out after he spoke, their voice cold and high as they yelled, "Crucio!"

The scream that escaped my lips was the loudest yet. Hot tears streamed down my bloody and grimy cheeks as pain ripped through my body. I was theirs for the killing- wandless and incapable of using my ancient magic.

Instead, this is what they chose to do.

"PLEASE!" I shouted, my body twitching helplessly in the air, bound to the chair and being thrown about like a marionette. "Please, stop this!"

"Then tell me how I can get into that damned room!"

I shook my head again, ready to tell him to just kill me, when another blast of the Cruciatus curse slammed into me- another scream ripped from my throat, the world spinning before me, and then- I heard a door bang open.

Immediately, the pain I was feeling ended. I no longer felt like my insides were tearing, no longer felt that each limb was being torn from its socket. I took deep ragged breaths trying to blink away my swollen eyes, trying to make sense of the blurry field in front of me.

Loud shouts sounded all around, flashes of red, purple and yellow-gold light flashing behind my swollen shut eyes, curses and counter-curses flying by me. The colors grew brighter and then faded back before slamming into focus again. Clearly, a battle had erupted around me. I slammed into the ground with a thud and smacked my head against the stone floor. Pain ripped through my skull and I cried out again. And then-

"Abbi!"

No! No, no, no, no he shouldn't be here!

I could hear him yelling my name as he ran towards me, dimly recognizing what spells he was sending out around us as he got closer to me. I felt his knees bump into me slightly as he slid across the ground to my side.

There were no more spells flying about, it was quiet, still. I felt the ropes binding me to the iron chair slip off my wrists and ankles and opened my eyes slightly so see him one more time.

"Sebastian," I croak out, my throat even more tender than before. I was able to focus in on his beautiful brown eyes and forced the next words out as my vision greyed out, "Get out of here."

I saw his lips move, but whatever he said to me was lost as the world turned dark.

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legacygirlingreen · 2 years ago

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Hogwarts Legacy Masterlist

Scroll down for one shots / Farmer Seb Masterlist!

⋆｡˚𖦹 This Series was previously titled "Times in Sebastian's 5th year!!

As a reminder, this diverts heavily from Canon, using the characters from the game as foundations for a different story. Written in y/n (but slowly going back through to remove and leave only a few sparingly), it has more of a focus on Victorian standards for courting/relationships instead of just “hot and heavy” so to speak. If that appeals to you, please feel free to read and comment your suggestions for future parts.

Parts with NSFW Content are marked! Also some chapters now have AI Audios with links!

(UPDATED May 20 , 2024): 137, 000+ words

MAIN FIC MASTERLIST - INVISIBLE STRING

On AO3 here & Wattpad here

Playlist on Spotify made by @urbansaint !

Part 1: Becoming a Proper Gentlemen (SFW) Audio: X

Part 2: Christmas with the Sallow Family

\_> Chapter 1: Dusty Boots (SFW)

\_> Chapter 2: Admissions (Semi NSFW but mostly SFW)

\_> Chapter 3: Jumper (Semi NSFW but mostly SFW)

\_> Chapter 4: Sugar Plum Fairy (NSFW) Audios: X

\_> Chapter 5: A Locket and a Promise (Mostly SFW) Audios: X

\_> Chapter 6 - Yuletide Cheers (Mostly SFW)

\_> Chapter 7- Birthdays and Hogmanay (NSFW)

Part 3: Stardust (NSFW) - Audios: X, X, X

Part 4: Hero of Hogwarts

\_> Chapter 1: "Leave Me" (SFW)

\_> Chapter 2: Revelations (SFW)

\_> Chapter 3: Graphorns & Phoenix (NSFW) Audio: X

\_> Chapter 4: A Reckoning (SFW) Audio: X

\_> Chapter 5: Repository I (SFW) Audio: X , X (battle)

\_> chapter 6: repository II (SFW) Audio: X

\_> chapter 7: repository III (SFW)

OTHER WORKS:

Farmer Sebastian Series Masterlist : x

Completely separate short fic that's got 14 parts, 50k words!

ONE SHOTS

“Drenched in Magic” 💦 🌕

what happens when MC and Sebastian are running for their lives and he can’t stop flirting even for a second? Even worse what happens when a major mess leads to them needing to clean up in a small pool in the moonlight?

Slight NSFW ; Word count 4K

\_> with audio by @darch7995

“The nose knows” 👃🏻 🧪 💕

What happens when a mixup involving amortentia leads to MC accidentally revealing her crush?

Word count: 4k

\_> with audio by @darch7995

Part 1 ; part 2

“Live, Laugh… Lizard?” 🦎 💋

What happens when a fun outing turns into a slightly frightening experience for MC, and ultimately leads to Sebastian confessing his feelings?

*slight NSFW*

Word count: 4k

\_> with audio by @darch7995

“Strumming Hearts” 🎸 🥃 🚬 (Modern! AU rocker Sebastian)

What happens when MC's friends drag her into a packed night club to see a band she hates purely on principle? She meets a cute guy and in the midst of a miscommunication Sebastian goes far to get the attention of the girl who caught his eye

Word count: 6k

\_> with audio by @darch7995 : Part 1 ; Part 2

“Strumming Hearts II : Mad Sounds” 🎸 🚬 NFSW (Modern! Rocker AU)

In which the freckled guitarist of The Undercroft finds his muse…

Word count : 12k

“That time of year again…” 🎄 💕 NFSW

Sebastian reflects on Christmas’s of old as his holidays worries are put to rest by a sweet love confession, which turns into something more…

Word count : 7k

Sebastian Dad Audios 1 & 2

Brief audios about Sebastian and his life after Hogwarts where he's taking care of his child...

HEADCANONS & MISC

Sebastian, Solomon and Abuse

Random Headcanons with no rhyme or reason

My HC about Sebastian's lip scar, captured by @animasola86

OTHER CHARACTERS:

Aesop Sharp:

"Burning Eyes & Laughter" NFSW

Aesop Sharp meets a new professor whose grumpiness rivals his own. Vignettes throughout the year where he slowly begins to see the truth behind her highly build ways leading to a mix up involving a laughing potion which causes him to see her in a new light...

Audio from story HERE

Word Count: 7k

"My Undeniable Miracle" SFW AUDIO

Aesop narrating John Mark Green's poem with violin in the background

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slytherinzz · 7 days ago

Text

A Gaunt arrangement

Hello everyone,

I got this prompt in my request and kind of got carried away a little bit, I feel like there is more to write about this story!

I hope you all enjoy and my request are still open, I do so enjoy writing your ideas.

Prompt: Heyy please do a ominis angst to happy ending, where we are the mc and its maybe sixth or seventh year (established relationship) but he's been close to another girl for a while so mc gets jealous and insecure. You can choose how the story goes but i NEED SOME GOOD ANGST WITH HAPPY ENDING PLEASEEEE

💫 Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x F!MC (named Olivia, but feel free to self-insert!)

⚠️ Warnings: Mentions of abuse

Please leave a comment, that motivates me greatly.

I’ve never been the jealous type.

Truly, I haven’t.

When I was dating Garreth Weasley in fifth year, and he cozied up to Imelda Reyes after a Quidditch match, I thought nothing of it. Free will is important, I told myself. But then I found them shagging in the dressing rooms a few days later, and my world shattered.

Since then, I’ve tried my best not to let past betrayals cloud my judgment.

But watching her—Eleanor fucking Rosier—lean into Ominis, brush her delicate hand along his sleeve as she whispered something in his ear…

It made my stomach twist painfully.

She was always around. A perfectly bred, poised, pure-blood princess. We had been in the same year since first year, but suddenly, now in our seventh, she had attached herself to Ominis like a sickeningly charming parasite.

And worse?

He let her.

I knew Ominis. Knew the way his lips curled in irritation when someone invaded his space, the way his fingers twitched when he wanted to pull away. But with her? He didn’t.

A shrill laugh rang through the Great Hall, and my gaze snapped to the Slytherin table. There she was, sitting beside him, practically pressed against his side. And Ominis? He looked… blank.

Not uncomfortable. Not anything.

“Are you even listening?”

Poppy’s voice dragged me back to reality. She had been rambling about a rumored phoenix sighting near the Forbidden Forest, but I hadn’t heard a single word.

I blinked, realizing I had been glaring across the hall, my untouched pumpkin juice growing room temperature beside me.

"Sorry," I muttered, forcing myself to look away. "What were you saying?"

Sebastian, sitting across from me, followed my gaze. He sighed, setting his fork down with a dull clatter.

"Just go talk to him."

"There's nothing to talk about." I stabbed my eggs harder than necessary.

Sebastian scoffed. "Right, because brooding and sulking is a much more mature approach."

I glared. "He's the one acting different, not me."

"You know Ominis," Sebastian said, leaning forward. His voice softened. "If he's keeping close to her, there’s a reason."

I hated that he was making sense.

But I hated even more that Ominis hadn’t spoken to me properly in weeks.

He was mine. We had been through heaven and hell together. From reluctant allies to friends to lovers to… this.

I had held him on nights when his nightmares were too much to bear. I had taken care of him when his family pushed him to the breaking point. We had shared everything.

And yet, now?

He was slipping through my fingers.

I tried to ignore it.

Tried to tell myself that Ominis wasn’t avoiding me. That I was being dramatic, insecure, paranoid.

But then he stopped meeting me in the Undercroft, like we did every night.

At first, I assumed he had gotten caught up in prefect duties, but night after night passed, and still—nothing.

It wasn’t until I caught him alone in the Astronomy Tower that I snapped.

"You’re avoiding me."

Ominis turned at the sound of my voice, his expression unreadable. The moonlight carved soft shadows along his sharp features, but there was no warmth in his gaze.

"I’m not," he said simply.

Liar.

A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he didn’t respond.

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. "Is it her?"

He froze. "What?"

"Eleanor." I took a step closer, watching his face carefully. "Is that why you've been avoiding me?"

Ominis remained silent.

"You spend all your time with her," I continued, my voice wobbling despite myself. "You listen to her. You let her touch you."

That last sentence stung.

Ominis hated touch. It took months for him to let me in. I had been patient. I had taken my time, waiting until he felt safe enough to reach for me.

Now, he let her do it so freely.

"I don’t—" he started, but stopped himself.

"Why?" My voice cracked. "Why won’t you talk to me? What’s changed?"

Ominis turned away, running a hand through his platinum hair. His posture was rigid.

"You wouldn’t understand," he muttered.

I scoffed. "Try me."

A silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. Then, finally, he spoke.

"My father," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "He… set up an arrangement."

My breath caught in my throat.

"What?"

Ominis swallowed hard, his fingers clenching into fists.

"I’m betrothed."

It felt like the floor had been yanked out from under me.

He kept going, his voice hollow. "Eleanor’s father is close to mine. If I don’t… cooperate, if I don’t spend time with her, they’ll make sure I regret it."

I stared at him, disbelief crashing over me like a wave.

"You—You’re saying they’ll hurt you?" My voice trembled.

A bitter smile twisted his lips. "They already have."

I sucked in a shaky breath, eyes darting over him desperately as if I could see the damage they had done.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" I whispered.

Ominis laughed softly—but it wasn’t real. It was sharp, pained, hopeless.

"Because I knew what you’d do." His pale eyes—those beautiful, haunted eyes—found mine. "You’d try to stop it. And if you tried… they’d hurt you too."

Tears burned at my eyes.

I wanted to tell him I didn’t care. That I would go to war against the Gaunts if it meant keeping him safe.

But then I looked at him. Really looked at him.

And I realized…

He was terrified.

Not for himself.

For me.

"Ominis," I choked, stepping closer. "I don’t—There has to be another way—"

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head.

"I can handle it," he murmured. "I just need you to… trust me."

A tear slipped down my cheek.

"How can I, when it feels like I’m losing you?"

Ominis reached for me then, finally, his fingers grazing mine. It wasn’t enough.

"It’s not forever," he whispered. "It can’t be."

I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the sob rising in my throat.

But deep down, I knew the truth.

As long as the Gaunts had control over him, this wasn’t something we could fight.

And that terrified me.

The days that followed were torture.

Ominis still spent time with Eleanor, still walked beside her in the corridors, still let her touch his arm as if it meant nothing. But now I knew why.

Now I saw it differently.

His posture was stiff every time she spoke to him. His hands trembled slightly when he thought no one was looking. And the worst part?

He barely spoke to me.

Not because he didn’t want to—but because he was protecting me.

But what he didn’t realize was that his silence was hurting me more than the Gaunts ever could.

I found him in the library late one evening, tucked away in the farthest corner, a single candle flickering beside him. He was hunched over, one hand gripping his wand, the other clutching his ribs.

I froze.

"Ominis?"

He stiffened at my voice, his head tilting slightly. He hadn’t heard me approach.

"You shouldn’t be here," he muttered.

My chest tightened. "You’re hurt."

Ominis didn’t respond. But as I stepped closer, I saw it. The way his breathing was uneven, the way he flinched just slightly when he adjusted his posture.

I dropped into the seat beside him and reached out instinctively, fingertips grazing the fabric of his robes.

He flinched.

My heart shattered.

"Let me see," I whispered.

Ominis sighed heavily, as if every part of him was breaking under the weight of this secret. Then, without a word, he unbuttoned the top of his vest and pulled up his shirt.

I had to bite back a gasp.

Bruises. Deep, ugly, fresh. Dark purple and yellow, spreading across his ribs like an artist’s cruel brushstrokes.

I felt sick.

"How?" My voice shook as I reached out, fingers hovering over his skin. "When?"

Ominis swallowed. "I got another letter. I didn’t… respond the way they wanted. They summoned me home, like a fucking puppet"

My hands curled into fists.

His family did this to him. His own blood.

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to breathe through the absolute rage coursing through me. Then I stood abruptly, grabbing his wrist and pulling him up.

"O-Olivia—?"

"Come with me."

He hesitated but didn’t resist.

We slipped out of the library, down the dim corridors, and through the tapestry leading to the Undercroft. Our place.

The moment we were inside, I turned to face him.

"This has to stop."

Ominis exhaled sharply, running a shaking hand through his platinum hair.

"You think I don’t know that?" he whispered. "You think I don’t want to—" He cut himself off, turning his face away.

"Then let’s end it," I pleaded. "Together. I don’t care about your family, Ominis. I don’t care about the Gaunt name or their stupid, twisted rules. If they cut you off, fine. Let them. You’re more than their legacy."

His breath hitched.

"You think it’s that easy?" His voice was bitter, laced with exhaustion. "If I walk away, I have nothing. No home. No name. I’m just… gone."

I grabbed his hands, gripping them tightly. "You will always have me."

Ominis stood completely still. His fingers twitched in my grasp, as if he were memorizing the feeling.

Then, slowly, he squeezed back.

"...Say that again."

I stepped closer. "You have me. You will always have me."

His breath shuddered.

Then, without warning, he crashed into me.

His arms wrapped around me, desperate, unrelenting. His forehead pressed against my shoulder, his entire body shaking.

I held him just as tightly, running my fingers through his hair, pressing soft kisses to his temple and then finding my lips. It was soft and tender, but the kiss grew desperate and hungry. Finally, I had him all to myself again and I loved every second of it.

For the first time in weeks, Ominis wasn’t holding back.

"I don’t want to do this anymore," he whispered, voice cracking. "I don’t want to pretend. I don’t want to let them control me."

I pulled back just enough to cup his face, thumb brushing against his cheek.

"Then we fight," I said firmly. "We tell them no. We end it. Together."

A tear slipped down his cheek.

Ominis Gaunt never cried.

But now? He let me see him.

He leaned forward, and I met him halfway, our lips crashing together again

It was desperate, raw, full of every unsaid word, every moment that Elanor had stolen from us.

When we finally pulled away, breathless, I pressed my forehead against his.

"No more hiding," I whispered.

Ominis let out a shaky laugh, smiling for the first time in what felt like forever.

"No more hiding."

And in that moment, I knew.

We had already won.

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writingsoftarnishedsilver · 1 month ago

Text

Playing for Keeps | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Chapter 1

Next Chapter →

Starting your seventh year at Hogwarts should be exciting, but transferring from Beauxbatons turns out to be more challenging than you anticipated—especially with Sebastian Sallow, the sharp-tongued school heartthrob, going out of his way to make things difficult. But unlike most, you refuse to back down. When he crosses a line, you push back just as hard, earning his respect and capturing his attention in ways he struggles to admit.

But when a bet with Sebastian’s rival, Leander Prewett, comes to light, Sebastian must choose between protecting his pride or fighting to rebuild trust with the one person who’s ever truly challenged him.

Words: ~6,800

Tags: Modern AU, Reader Insert, Seventh Year, Female MC, No Y/N, Slytherin MC, Enemies to Lovers, Trope-y, Slow Burn, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Coming of Age, Plus-Sized Protagonist, Body Image, High School Drama

The rhythmic clatter of the train against the tracks filled the small compartment as you gazed out the window, watching the rolling Scottish hills blur past. You couldn’t help but feel like you were drifting through a dream—one both familiar and completely foreign. The Hogwarts Express, with its polished wood interiors and the faint scent of sweets from the trolley somewhere down the corridor, was a stark contrast to the sleek, airy carriages of the Beauxbatons carriages you’d grown used to.

“Still daydreaming, Chouette?” Imelda Reyes smirked, kicking your shin lightly under the small table between you.

You snapped out of your thoughts, turning your attention back to her. “Not daydreaming,” you said, though the heat rising to your cheeks probably said otherwise. “Just thinking.”

“About how different you look in those robes, maybe?” she teased, gesturing to your Hogwarts attire. Unlike hers, crisp and proudly adorned with green and silver, yours lacked a house tie and emblem, leaving you looking oddly plain. “Don’t worry; they’ll sort you soon enough. Though if you don’t end up in Slytherin with me, I might disown you.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. Imelda hadn’t changed. Her sharp tongue was as much her armor as it was her way of showing affection. “They didn’t have houses at Beauxbatons,” you reminded her, smoothing the fabric of your robe self-consciously. “Sorting is new.”

Imelda shrugged. “He's just a nosy hat. You’ll be fine. Though I’ll admit, it’s going to be strange not knowing where you’ll sit in the Great Hall until after the feast. No matter what happens, at least we've got this first night together!”

You hummed in response, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. The idea of being paraded in front of an entire school while a magical hat decided your fate wasn’t exactly comforting. Then again, neither was uprooting your life for the second time in less than a decade.

Not that the move back to Scotland had been a choice.

Your grandmother’s health had been declining for months, and with your grandfather gone, your mother had insisted on returning home to care for her. It wasn’t that you didn’t understand—family came first, always—but it didn’t make the transition any easier.

You had grown up in Scotland but moved to France at ten years old to attend Beauxbatons. Back then, the language, the culture, the people—they had all been a steep adjustment, but in truth, they had molded you into who you were. Beauxbatons had become home, the place where you found your footing. Now, at eighteen, just as you were preparing to finish your final year, you were being uprooted again, starting over in a country that was both familiar and foreign.

Imelda studied you for a moment, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly as she leaned back in her seat. “You're so quiet, this isn’t like you,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “Normally, you’re the type to run headfirst into things… what gives?”

You hesitated, glancing down at your hands. “I don’t know,” you mumbled, though that wasn’t entirely true. “It’s just… a lot. New school, new people, everything being different. What if I don’t fit in?”

Imelda snorted, rolling her eyes as if the thought were utterly absurd. “Oh, please. You’ll be fine. Half the idiots at Hogwarts will be tripping over themselves to talk to you once they hear that half-French, half-Scottish accent of yours. And the other half will be too busy being jealous.”

You tried to laugh, but the sound came out more nervous than anything. “I’m not sure that’s how it works.”

“It is,” she insisted, her grin turning smug. “And besides, you’ve got me.”

You gave her a faint smile. “Thanks, Mel.”

She waved a hand, brushing off the sentiment with a casual flick of her wrist. “Don’t get sappy on me now, Chouette. You’re going to be fine.”

But as her words settled in the air between you, your thoughts drifted. Imelda’s confidence in you was comforting, sure—but it also felt so far from the truth you were carrying inside. Because while she saw someone bold and daring, right now you felt the opposite.

The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels began to slow, and you felt a slight jolt as the Hogwarts Express started its final approach to the station. Outside the window, the landscape shifted, the rolling hills giving way to a darkened platform illuminated by soft, golden lanterns. Students began gathering their things, voices rising in excitement as they peered out into the cool evening air.

Imelda leaned over, her sharp eyes scanning the platform with a familiar confidence. “Here we go,” she said, nudging you with her elbow.

The train hissed to a stop, steam billowing into the night as the chatter inside the compartments swelled. You clutched the strap of your bag tightly, your pulse quickening as Imelda stood, gesturing for you to follow her. The aisle was a chaos of students jostling to disembark, and you found yourself swept up in the tide as Imelda led the way with ease.

When you stepped off the train, the chill of the Scottish air hit you instantly, sharp and bracing against your skin. The platform was alive with movement, students reuniting with friends after the summer, calling out to one another over the clamor of luggage being hauled off the train. Lanterns cast a warm glow over the cobblestones, and in the distance, you could see the faint silhouettes of carriages waiting to carry students up to the castle.

“First years, over here! First years, this way!” a booming voice called, and your head turned to see a figure waving a lantern high above the crowd. A group of wide-eyed first years shuffled nervously in his direction, their excitement palpable.

“Come on,” Imelda said, grabbing your arm to pull you along. “Our carriages are this way. Stick close, or you’ll end up in the lake with the first years.”

You followed Imelda closely, gripping the strap of your bag as your eyes darted around, taking everything in. The sound of hooves echoed faintly in the distance, and when you glanced up the path, you caught sight of the carriages waiting to bring students to the castle. They were drawn by strange, skeletal creatures with leathery wings—Thestrals, you realized with a start.

“Are those—?” you began, but before you could finish, a shout interrupted you.

“Imelda!”

Two boys waved from further up the platform, their voices cutting through the bustle around you. Your eyes were drawn to them immediately. The first was a red-haired boy with an easy, infectious grin that seemed to light up his face. Beside him stood a taller, blonde-haired boy, his striking features framed by an air of quiet composure. Their robes gave away their houses—red and gold for the cheerful one, green and silver for the reserved one. Gryffindor and Slytherin, you realized.

“Of course,” Imelda chuckled good-naturedly before raising her hand in a wave. “Come on,” she said to you.

You trailed behind her as she strode confidently toward the pair, your gaze flicking between them. The redheaded boy beamed as you approached.

“Reyes! Great to see you!” he called out, his grin wide and his green eyes alight with curiosity as they landed on you. “And who’s this?” He extended a freckled hand toward you, his energy practically buzzing with warmth. “Garreth Weasley, at your service.”

You hesitated for half a second before taking his hand. “Erm, hi,” you said, your voice a little unsure as you introduced yourself.

Imelda crossed her arms and smirked. “This is Hogwarts newest Seventh Year. You can call her Chouette,” she announced with a pointed look in your direction.

You felt your face heat instantly. “Imelda!”

Garreth perked up at this, a delighted grin spreading across his face. “Chouette? That’s French, isn’t it?”

“For ‘owl,’ yes,” you confirmed, your tone edged with mild bitterness.

Garreth chuckled, clearly amused, but it was the taller boy, the one with pale blonde hair and an unreadable expression, who spoke next. “Well,” he said smoothly, his voice low and measured. “I'm Ominis Gaunt. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chouette.”

The way he pronounced it was flawless, as though he’d been saying it his entire life. You blinked, caught off guard by the effortless precision. “Thank you, you too,” you said cautiously, unsure of what else to add as a flicker of recognition lit in your mind.

Gaunt. The name wasn’t just uncommon—it carried a certain weight, steeped in the histories of old wizarding families, and the implications lingered, leaving you hesitant as you glanced at him again.

Before you could dwell on it, Imelda’s voice cut through your thoughts. “Don’t look so worried,” she said breezily, elbowing you in the side. “Ominis isn’t nearly as scary as his last name makes him sound.”

Ominis’s lips twitched faintly, though whether it was amusement or irritation, you couldn’t tell. “Thank you, Reyes,” he said dryly, “for the glowing endorsement.”

Imelda smirked. “Anytime.”

Garreth grinned. “Ominis is harmless. He just looks intimidating because he refuses to smile properly.”

Ominis shot him a pointed look, but Garreth only laughed. The banter between them was easy, and you found yourself relaxing slightly, even as your nerves lingered.

“Come on,” Imelda said, jerking her head toward the carriages. “If we stand here any longer, all the good ones will be taken. We’ll get stuck riding with a pack of loudmouth second-years.”

You followed Imelda down the path, the sound of students bustling and calling out to one another echoing across the platform. The Thestrals loomed closer, their frames almost ethereal in the glow of the lanterns. You hesitated briefly before climbing into the carriage after her, settling onto the bench beside her while Garreth and Ominis took the opposite seats. The wood creaked faintly under the weight, and with a slight jolt, the Thestrals began to move.

As the carriage rolled forward, Imelda leaned casually out of the carriage, her hand raised in a sharp wave toward someone in the distance. “Samantha!” she called out, her voice carrying easily. “Don’t forget—we’re sitting together for Herbology this year!”

Further along the path, Garreth grinned and shouted something indecipherable to a cluster of students by another carriage. One of them—a freckled Gryffindor girl with tawny-brown hair—giggled and waved back. “That’s Cressida,” Garreth explained with a cheeky glance your way. “My girlfriend, and a Charm’s genius. I’d be lost without her.”

Ominis, though quieter, acknowledged almost every passing group with a polite nod or a brief exchange. At one point, you caught him waving to a dark-haired boy holding a stack of books balanced precariously in his arms. “Amit Thakkar,” Imelda muttered under her breath, catching your questioning look. “Smartest guy in school.”

You sat back, watching the interactions unfold, the warmth and familiarity in every exchange. Imelda, Garreth, and Ominis were like threads in a tightly woven tapestry, seamlessly connected to everyone around them. The ease with which they navigated the chaos made you painfully aware of just how out of place you felt.

At Beauxbatons, you’d had your own circle of friends—people who knew your quirks and shared your jokes, who had seen you at your best and your worst. Now, all of that felt so far away, like another life entirely. You wrapped your fingers around the strap of your bag, gripping it tightly as the ache of longing settled in your chest.

“Chouette?” Imelda’s voice broke through your thoughts, her sharp eyes studying you. “You good?”

You blinked, forcing a small smile. “Yeah, just… taking it all in.”

She raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, but didn’t press further. Instead, she leaned back and crossed her arms, smirking as she turned to Garreth. “Bet all you Gryffindors are going to pout when she's sorted into Slytherin with Ominis and I."

Garreth snorted, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Please. You really think the hat’s going to let you have her? Gryffindor’s clearly where she belongs.”

“Clearly?” Ominis interjected, one pale brow arching delicately. “The hat doesn’t favor reckless overconfidence, Weasley.”

Garreth grinned. “Speaking of reckles overconfidence, I'm sure Sallow is already up to no good and classes haven't even started."

“I don’t know what’s more concerning,” Ominis muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, “that you think he’s already causing trouble, or that you sound impressed.”

Garreth shrugged. “If you don’t admire a little chaos, Ominis, what’s the point?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at their bickering, though the unfamiliar name snagged in your mind. “Sallow?” you asked, your curiosity piqued.

“Sebastian Sallow,” Imelda said with a roll of her eyes. “Slytherin's star Beater, eternal troublemaker, and Hogwarts’ most persistent heartbreak. Next to Leander Prewett, that is.”

“Persistent is putting it kindly,” Ominis muttered. “He’s my oldest friend, but even I’d describe him as… relentless. If there’s trouble to be found, he’ll find it.”

“And probably make it worse,” Imelda added, smirking.

Garreth chimed in, grinning. “He’s also at the top of our Defense Against the Dark Arts class. As much as it pains me to admit it, he’s annoyingly talented.”

Imelda hummed thoughtfully. “Honestly, he’s a lot like you—except dialed up to eleven.”

You blinked, taken aback by the comment. “Like me?”

“Well, sure,” Imelda said with a shrug, her tone casual but knowing. “Sharp. Driven. Bold. Stubborn. Always ready to throw yourself into something headfirst.”

“Usually without thinking, in Sebastian's case," Ominis interjected dryly, though there was no malice in his tone.

You hesitated, their words sinking in. Confidence. Boldness. Those were the things people always said about you, the qualities they seemed to admire. But underneath it all, you weren’t sure how much of it was real and how much was just a well-practiced act.

Still, you managed a smile, brushing the thought aside. “So… troublemaker, charmer, and duelling prodigy. Got it. Should I be worried?”

“Yes,” they all said in unison.

You shook your head, suppressing a laugh, though the image of this mysterious Sebastian Sallow stuck with you. Still, your curiosity shifted back to the matter at hand. “What exactly does the Sorting Hat look for?” you asked, glancing between the three of them.

Ominis’s expression softened slightly, his thoughtful demeanor returning. “It depends. Qualities, values, ambitions… It’s not just about who you are now—it’s about who you have the potential to become.”

“And sometimes,” Imelda added with a shrug, “it just throws you somewhere unexpected to see if you’ll sink or swim.”

“Comforting,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Well, here’s hoping the hat knows what it’s doing,"

“It does,” Ominis said, his voice cutting through the chatter. His pale gaze was steady. “The Sorting Hat has been doing this for centuries. It doesn’t get it wrong.”

His words carried a finality that left little room for argument, and while they didn’t exactly ease your nerves, you found them oddly reassuring.

The carriage slowed to a stop, jolting slightly as the Thestrals came to rest. The castle loomed above you, its towers piercing the darkening sky and its warm, glowing windows casting light across the grounds. Students were already filing toward the massive oak doors in groups, their chatter filling the cool evening air.

Imelda hopped out of the carriage first, her steps confident as always, and you followed closely behind, clutching your bag.

Garreth offered you a cheerful grin as he stepped down after Ominis, his hair catching the glow of the lanterns. “Well, looks like this is where we part ways,” he said, his gaze shifting toward a small group of Gryffindors gathered nearby. One of the girls—Cressida, you realized—waved at him, and he waved back with easy enthusiasm before turning to you.

“Good luck settling in, Chouette,” Garreth said, his grin widening. “And remember—Gryffindor’s the obvious choice.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his cheerful energy. “Thanks, Garreth. I’ll see you around.”

“Count on it,” he replied with a wink, then jogged off toward his friends, sliding seamlessly into their group.

Your gaze lingered for a moment, watching the way the Gryffindors welcomed him. Their laughter was infectious, their camaraderie easy. Among them was a tall boy with dark red hair and an effortlessly confident demeanor. He stood slightly apart, twirling a wand idly between his fingers as he spoke. There was something about the way he carried himself—relaxed but assured—that made it hard to look away.

Imelda’s sharp snort broke your reverie. Looping her arm through yours, she tugged you along. “Don’t let Weasley fool you. Slytherin is the best option.”

You glanced back over your shoulder one last time, your eyes flickering to the boy just as he tossed his wand in the air and caught it effortlessly, grinning at something one of his friends said. There was something magnetic about him, something that made you wonder who he was. You hadn’t even realized you were staring until Imelda tugged on your arm again, chuckling softly.

“Oh, Merlin,” she said, clearly amused. “Already eyeing Prewett, are you?”

“What?” you asked, startled. “I wasn’t—”

Imelda rolled her eyes, her grin widening. “Sure you weren’t. That’s Leander Prewett. Top Summoner’s Court player in the school, a massive flirt, and annoyingly good at just about everything. And yes,” she added with a smirk, “he’s fully aware of how good-looking he is.”

You felt heat creep up your neck as you scrambled to defend yourself. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Right,” Imelda said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You were just appreciating the scenery.”

Groaning, you nudged her with your elbow. “Can we just go?”

Ominis chuckled. “Come on, Imelda. I’m sure she’s already overwhelmed enough.

Imelda rolled her eyes but relented, leading you inside and toward the Great Hall. When the three of you reached the Slytherin table, Imelda gestured toward a spot next to her. The table gleamed under the flickering candlelight, its surface polished to a mirror shine. You sat down tentatively, Imelda on one side and two other girls—one with dark hair spilling down her back, the other with her somewhat lighter hair tied neatly into a ponytail—on the other.

“Ladies,” Imelda said smoothly, gesturing to you with a casual wave. “This is my oldest friend and Hogwarts newest transfer student."

The girl with the ponytail grinned warmly. “Nerida Roberts,” she said, offering a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“And I’m Grace Pinch-Smedley,” added the other girl, giving a polite nod. “Welcome to Hogwarts.”

“Thank you,” you said warmly, offering your name as you shook Nerida’s hand. Turning to Grace with a small smile, you added, “It’s nice to meet you both.”

Ominis slid gracefully into the seat across from Nerida and Grace, his movements precise and deliberate. He rested his hands lightly on the table, his pale gaze shifting in your direction. “So, Beauxbatons,” he began, his voice polite and curious. “What was it like? I’ve always imagined it to be… grand.”

You blinked at the sudden attention but managed a small smile. “It’s beautiful,” you said, trying to sum up a place that had been your home for so long. “Elegant, for sure. But strict, too. Everything had to be perfect—uniforms, posture, manners.”

Nerida snorted softly, her elbow propped on the table. “Sounds dreadful. How’d you survive?”

You chuckled. “I ask myself that sometimes. It was a lot, but... well, it was home. And all my friends were there. Not to mention the grounds were stunning, and the food was incredible.”

Ominis nodded thoughtfully. “I imagine the transition to Hogwarts must be… a bit jarring.”

You hesitated, glancing at Imelda, who gave you a subtle nudge under the table. “It’s definitely different,” you admitted. “Less polished, but in a good way. It feels more alive.”

“Alive is one way to put it,” Nerida quipped with a grin. “Chaotic might be more accurate. Just wait until Peeves finds you.”

“Peeves?” you asked, furrowing your brow.

“The Poltergeist,” Grace supplied with a sigh. “You’ll hear him before you see him, unfortunately.”

Before you could ask for details, a voice interrupted the conversation—a smooth, confident drawl that cut through the noise like a sharp blade.

“Well, well, what do we have we here?”

You looked up and froze. The boy standing at the head of the table was, for lack of a better word, stunning. Dark brown hair framed his angular face, his warm brown eyes sharp and filled with mischief, and his smile—crooked and self-assured—had an edge of arrogance that was almost magnetic.

And then there was the way he was dressed—or, rather, the way he wasn’t. While everyone else around you was neatly clad in Hogwarts uniforms, this boy had abandoned the standard entirely. His black cloak was draped lazily over his arm, and he wore a faded black shirt with a band logo you recognized, the sleeves rolled just enough to show off his forearms.

Your stomach flipped before you could stop it. But then he opened his mouth again.

“New girl, huh?” His gaze flicked over you, assessing. “Guess Hogwarts is letting in anyone these days.”

The warmth that had been bubbling in your chest turned icy in an instant.

“Don't be an ass," Ominis said, his tone sharp enough to cut glass.

Imelda’s eyes narrowed as she leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. "Surely you don’t want to embarrass yourself before she even knows who you are.”

The boy shrugged, flashing you a grin that might have been charming if you weren’t already bristling. “Apologies,” he said, though his tone was anything but sincere. “Sebastian Sallow. And you are?”

You stared at him, your mind connecting the dots almost instantly. So this is the infamous Sebastian Sallow. Recognition flickered, followed quickly by irritation.

“Chouette,” Imelda said smoothly, gesturing toward you. “Hogwarts’ newest transfer student. My oldest friend. And if you keep running your mouth, you’ll be eating pudding from the hospital wing by the end of the night.”

Grace stifled a laugh, while Nerida smirked openly. Ominis simply sighed, his expression a mix of exasperation and mild amusement.

Sebastian raised his hands in mock surrender, though his grin didn’t waver. “No need for violence, Imelda." He chuckled and slid into the seat beside Ominis as his sharp brown eyes flicked to your colorless robes, the lack of a house tie or emblem drawing his attention.

“Hmm,” he drawled, leaning slightly against the table as though appraising a particularly curious find. “I don’t think you’ll be sitting at this table for long.”

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Oh?”

“Judging by the… interesting nickname and the accent,” he continued, his tone dripping with amusement. “let me guess, you’re from Beauxbatons? And their students are what—Hufflepuff material? Maybe Ravenclaw?”

“Sebastian,” Ominis warned, his voice low and sharp.

“I'm just saying,” he said, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “I wouldn’t hold my breath. Slytherin’s not for everyone, especially someone who’s used to…” He paused as he gestured vaguely again, “…a more delicate lifestyle.”

You scoffed. “And here I thought Slytherins were supposed to be cunning,” you replied evenly, tilting your head slightly as you found your voice. “But I guess all that ambition doesn’t leave much room for creativity. It’s almost impressive, really—managing to be both predictable and wrong in a single sentence.”

Sebastian’s grin faltered for a split second before snapping back into place, though the glint in his eyes turned sharp, like he’d just found a new game to play. “I'm just saying, adjusting to a new school at the last minute must be overwhelming,” he said smoothly, his tone dripping with condescension. “Let’s see if the Sorting Hat can find somewhere for you to fit.”

Imelda groaned audibly, throwing her head back. “Shut up, Sebastian.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “What? Don’t you think it’s my duty to give her a proper Hogwarts welcome?”

“Your definition of ‘proper’ is questionable,” Grace muttered, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

“Is it?” Sebastian replied, his grin unwavering. “I think I’ve made quite the impression.”

“Yeah,” you said evenly. “Just not the one you think.”

He shrugged. “Well, it’s better to stand out than to blend in, don’t you think?”

“Oh, you stand out, alright,” you replied, your tone sharp.

Sebastian’s eyes swept over you again, sharp and calculating, before his expression turned mock-thoughtful once more.

"Well, I'm certainly not the only one," he said smoothly, his tone laced with something you couldn’t quite place but knew you didn’t like. “I mean, you’re kinda hard to miss. But, uh…” He tilted his head slightly, the smirk creeping back onto his lips. “Just a bit of advice, since I’m feeling generous,” he drawled. “The food here is great—buffet-style, really—but, you know… moderation. It’s worth considering.”

The words hit like a slap, sharp and deliberate, leaving the table in stunned silence and feeding into an insecurity you’d carried for as long as you could remember. You’d always been bigger—bigger than the other girls at Beauxbatons, bigger than most people thought you “should” be. It was something people seemed to notice before they noticed you. Your size came first, and everything else about you—your thoughts, your talents, your personality—became secondary, if they even mattered at all.

You’d worked hard not to let it define you, not to let the looks and whispers get under your skin. But in moments like this, when someone threw it in your face with a smug grin, it was impossible not to feel the sting. For a brief moment, the familiar ache threatened to creep in, whispering that you’d never belong here, or anywhere. That you’d always be the odd one out. That you’d never be good enough.

But you weren’t about to let him see that.

Before you could respond, though, Imelda was already snapping. “What the fuck? Do you ever stop to think before you open your mouth?"

“That was completely uncalled for,” Ominis cut in sharply, his voice cracking like a whip.

Nerida let out a derisive snort. “You’ve said some idiotic things before, but this is a new low,” she said, staring at him as though he’d sprouted a third head.

Sebastian glanced around, clearly taken aback by the backlash, though he quickly masked it with an exaggerated shrug. “What? I was just joking,” he said. “Don’t get your wands in a knot.”

“Truly, what an innovative personality you’ve cultivated. So original,” you said suddenly, your voice cutting through the tension at the table. The group turned to you, startled by the calm sharpness in your tone. “I know your kind. It’s always the same with guys like you."

That seemed to catch him off guard. His smirk faltered, confusion flashing in his eyes. “My kind?” he repeated.

You tilted your head, keeping your expression steady despite the thunderous rhythm of your heart. You told yourself you shouldn’t stoop to his level, shouldn’t let him get under your skin, but the words tumbled out before you could stop them, sharp and precise.

“Yeah. The student athlete heartthrob who thinks being a prick is endearing. The guy who throws around shitty comments thinking it makes him clever or edgy. If it wasn’t already abundantly obvious, let me make it clear: it doesn’t. It just makes you predictable and pathetic.”

Sebastian blinked, clearly trying to process your words. His smirk slipped further, replaced by something closer to genuine surprise. For a moment, it seemed as though he was searching for a retort, but nothing came.

Grace stifled a giggle behind her hand, while Nerida openly grinned, her eyes darting between you and Sebastian like she was watching an impromptu Quidditch match. Even Ominis let a faint smirk tug at his lips.

You leaned back in your seat, arms crossed in mock lamentation, your gaze pinned firmly on Sebastian. “What’s this? Quiet, all of a sudden?” you said, your voice saccharine and laced with venom. “Oh, don’t stop now, Sebastian. Please, enlighten me with more of your cutting wit. I’m positively desperate to hear what else you think qualifies as clever banter.”

For a fleeting second, Sebastian hesitated. Then he shook his head, his grin creeping back, though it was smaller now, almost reluctant. “You’ve got a sharp tongue, I’ll give you that.”

“And you’ve got a wardrobe full of pretense and exactly zero originality,” you shot back without missing a beat, your eyes flicking deliberately to his faded band shirt.

You were well aware of the hypocrisy in your words even as you spoke them. Merlin knew you had a drawer full of band shirts yourself, a rotating collection of your favorite oversized tees that served as both a badge of honor and a comfortable fallback. You weren’t the gatekeeping type—far from it. But Sebastian Sallow wasn’t the first guy like this you’d encountered, and experience had taught you exactly where to aim to knock someone like him down a peg.

Sebastian blinked, momentarily thrown. “Excuse me?”

You tilted your head, feigning contemplation, your voice calm but laced with razor-edged sarcasm. “Let me guess—you picked up that Smiths shirt at a thrift shop because you thought it would make you look deep and brooding and intellectual. What’s next? Are you going to quote How Soon Is Now? at me and call it a personality? Because I’ve met that guy before, and trust me—you’re not breaking new ground.”

The stunned silence that followed was palpable. Sebastian stared at you, his smirk wiped clean from his face, replaced by a blank expression that was almost unnerving in its stillness. For a fleeting moment, you couldn’t tell if he was about to laugh, get angry, or fire back with something equally cutting. But he didn’t say a word.

The others, however, were less restrained. Imelda cackled, slapping the table with her palm as she leaned back in her seat. “Told you to shut up while you were still ahead, Sallow. Chouette's not a push-over."

Grace covered her mouth with her hand, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter, while Nerida didn’t even bother hiding her amusement. “Honestly, it’s about time someone put him in his place,” Nerida said, grinning as she glanced between you and Sebastian.

Sebastian blinked, whatever fire he’d had earlier extinguished. His sharp brown eyes lingered on you, something unreadable flickering behind them—a spark of surprise? Annoyance?—but whatever it was vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He forced a shrug, the motion stiff and hollow, and leaned back in his seat with an air of practiced nonchalance that didn’t quite land. His bruised ego hung in the air like smoke.

Not that it mattered.

Before anything more could be said, the noise in the Great Hall suddenly hushed. You glanced toward the front of the room to see Headmaster Black standing by the Sorting Hat, his expression a mix of irritation and boredom. He raised his hands, gesturing for quiet, though his sour demeanor seemed to imply he didn’t expect much from the room.

“Let’s get on with it, shall we?” he drawled, his voice carrying across the hall. “The Sorting Ceremony will now begin.”

Your stomach twisted as Professor Weasley stepped forward with the list of names, her warm smile doing little to calm your nerves. She called the first name, and your heart sank when it was yours.

Imelda gave you an encouraging nudge. “Go on,” she said with a grin.

You swallowed hard and stood, your legs carrying you toward the front of the hall almost on autopilot. The weight of hundreds of eyes on you was suffocating, and you felt your face flush as you approached the Sorting Hat. You could hear faint whispers ripple through the crowd as students speculated about the new girl, but you forced yourself to ignore them.

The hat was placed on your head, and the world around you seemed to disappear as its voice filled your mind.

“Ah, a Seventh Year, eh? Interesting. Very interesting indeed. Let’s see what we have here...”

You swallowed hard. Is it always this dramatic? you thought, the sarcasm slipping out before you could stop it.

The hat chuckled. “A sharp tongue, I see. And wit to match. You’re clever—no doubt about that. Ravenclaw would suit you well. But there’s more… bravery, certainly... A strong sense of justice. Gryffindor might fit…”

You held your breath, waiting as the hat’s musings trailed off.

“But no,” the hat said, its tone turning thoughtful. “There’s ambition here—strong ambition. And a determination too. Hmm… tricky, very tricky…”

You could feel the weight of the decision hanging in the air, the hat’s hesitation palpable. But then the hat made a self satisfied "Ah!" and before you knew it, the hat's voice was booming through the hall.

“Slytherin!”

You froze for a moment and the world came rushing back into focus. Applause erupted from the Slytherin table, led enthusiastically by Imelda, though you couldn’t quite shake the knot in your stomach as you made your way back toward them… because you’d be stuck with Sebastian Sallow all year.

“Well, welcome to the den of snakes,” Imelda cheered as you approached. “Don’t worry, you already fit right in.”

You glanced across the table and found Ominis watching you with a faint smile. “Congratulations and welcome,” he said softly. “The hat made the right choice.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, though the words felt hollow. Your gaze flickered to Sebastian, who lounged in his seat with an expression that could only be described as... confused. His eyes met yours briefly, and you simply cocked an eyebrow, letting the gesture speak for itself.

Imelda caught the exchange and snickered, leaning closer to you. “Merlin’s beard, you’ve got him rattled,” she said in a low voice, her tone somewhere between impressed and amused. “That’s new."

“Is he always like this?” you asked under your breath, your gaze flickering back to Sebastian for a moment before returning to Imelda.

“Unfortunately,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. "But don’t let him get to you. He’s a prat most of the time, but he grows on you. Like a stubborn rash.”

“High praise,” you muttered, "Je pense que je vais garder mes distances."

Imelda snorted at your muttered French, clearly understanding enough to catch your drift. “Good luck with that,” she said dryly, her smirk widening. “Sebastian has a way of worming into everyone’s business whether they want him there or not.”

“Sounds delightful,” you replied, your tone flat.

As the sorting continued, you allowed yourself a moment to appreciate the scene around you. Despite everything—the nerves, the awkwardness of being the new girl, and Sebastian’s infuriating attitude—Hogwarts certainly had a charm of its own. The way the candlelight flickered off the long tables, the enchanted ceiling reflecting the night sky above, and the palpable energy of students eager for the start of a new term—it all felt alive in a way Beauxbatons never had.

"Grace, look at that one," Nerida whispered excitedly, nudging Grace as another small first-year stumbled nervously toward the hat.

“Poor thing looks terrified,” Grace whispered back with a smile. “Reminds me of my own sorting.”

You smiled faintly at their banter, but a small, persistent voice in the back of your mind kept reminding you that you were still an outsider. Everyone around you had years of shared experiences, stories, and inside jokes that you couldn’t hope to understand or fit into overnight.

As the Sorting Ceremony neared its conclusion, the steady stream of nervous first-years dwindled until only one remained—a wide-eyed boy who looked moments away from fainting. The Sorting Hat barely touched his head before bellowing, "Hufflepuff!" A cheer erupted from the Hufflepuff table as the boy scurried to his seat.

Headmaster Black rose languidly from his chair at the staff table, his expression a blend of boredom and mild irritation, as if the entire evening had been an inconvenience. He waved a dismissive hand toward the hall, his voice carrying effortlessly over the chatter.

“Well, now that we’ve gotten that tiresome ordeal out of the way,” he drawled, his tone dripping with condescension, “you may enjoy your feast.”

The platters of food on the tables filled instantly with a mouth-watering array of dishes: roasted meats, golden potatoes, steaming vegetables, and fragrant pies. The smell alone was enough to make your stomach rumble.

Imelda grinned at you. “Now you’re getting the Hogwarts experience,” she said. “Trust me, the food here is one of the few things that’ll never let you down.”

You chuckled softly at Imelda’s remark, but her encouragement did little to silence the unwelcome echo of Sebastian’s earlier comment in your mind. “Moderation. It’s worth considering.” The words clung to you like a stubborn burr, sharp and biting.

Swallowing hard, you opted for a small portion: a single piece of roast chicken, a scoop of potatoes, and a few vegetables. The rich aromas wafted around you, but the knot in your stomach dulled your appetite.

Imelda didn’t seem to notice as she busied herself loading her own plate. Across the table, Nerida and Grace were deep in animated conversation about summer holidays, their voices blending into the lively chatter of the Great Hall. You focused on their words, nodding occasionally, but contributed little. It was easier to listen, to let their easy camaraderie wash over you while you quietly tried to find your footing.

Sebastian, at some point, returned to being the center of attention. He leaned casually on the table, his earlier smugness replaced with a more agreeable charm. He was laughing and gesturing animatedly as he recounted some story that had them all chuckling. The warmth in his tone was strikingly different from the sharp-edged comments he’d aimed at you earlier.

“Seems like he’s in a better mood now,” you muttered under your breath.

Imelda scoffed. “For now. Just wait until you see him on the Quidditch pitch.”

The mention of Quidditch piqued your interest, but before you could ask, Sebastian’s voice carried across the table, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Oi, Ominis,” he said, “What’s the over-under on me dragging you out to a practice this year? Still terrified of flying?”

Ominis, who had been quietly enjoying his meal, sighed deeply, setting down his fork with deliberate patience. “I’m not terrified,” he replied, his tone flat. “I simply prefer not to hurl myself into the sky on a broomstick, especially when there’s a perfectly good ground to stand on.”

Sebastian leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms with exaggerated amusement. “Oh, come on. A little adrenaline never hurt anyone.”

“Except for the countless people who’ve fallen off their brooms,” Ominis shot back dryly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Like you."

Laughter rippled across the table, and you couldn’t help the faint tug of a smile at their banter. Sebastian’s teasing tone was lighter now, his words less pointed and more playful. It was clear this version of him—the one laughing easily with his friends—was the one they all knew and tolerated, even enjoyed.

But for you, the memory of his earlier barbs was too fresh, his easy charm only serving to deepen your irritation. You’d seen this type before: the golden boy who could say whatever he wanted and still be adored by everyone around him. He was the center of the group’s attention now, weaving through conversations with an effortless charisma that left you feeling even more like an outsider.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Ominis remarked eventually, his soft voice cutting through your thoughts. His pale gaze was turned in your direction, steady and unassuming. “Are we overwhelming you already?”

You managed a small smile. “No, not at all. Just... taking it all in.”

Ominis inclined his head slightly, his expression thoughtful. “Understandable. But I’ve no doubt you’ll settle in quickly.”

“Thanks,” you said, your tone genuine. Of all the people you’d met so far, Ominis seemed the most sincere, his calm presence a stark contrast to the chaos of the evening.

Imelda, catching the tail end of your exchange, grinned as she elbowed you lightly. “See? I told you. You’ll fit right in.”

You nodded, though the weight of the evening still sat heavy on your shoulders. You glanced back across the table, catching a fleeting look from Sebastian before he quickly returned his attention to his friends. For a moment, you wondered if he was deliberately ignoring you or if he simply didn’t care.

Either way, you decided, it didn’t matter. You weren’t here to impress him.

Steeling yourself, you took a small bite of the potatoes and focused on the warmth of the Great Hall around you. It might not feel like home just yet, but it was a start.

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