#sebastian sallows angst

[peterparkersnose]

Apologies

pairing: Sebastian Sallows x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

warnings: takes place sixth year, teasing, comments about the readers appearance, slight swearing from sebastian, nothing too bad here

a/n hi let’s not bully this fanfic to the point of deletion like the last one :) We do not support JK Rowling here and her views. Hate will be blocked and deleted. Also, don’t ask why Y/N has lipstick on her chin. Sebastian is probably sloppy anyways. Love the mc gifs, even though mine was brunette 😒. Anyways, MC isn’t any specific house in this story so feel free to choose your own!

side note: this is the first fic i edited with grammarly. no clue why i haven’t before, i use it on all my school papers. enjoy the somewhat grammatically correct fic! probably first one ever lmao

summary A joke Sebastian makes goes a little too far

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read time: 10 mins 31 seconds

“And don’t you just look wonderful today, Y/N!” Poppy cheered, joining your side as you walked down the Hogwarts halls. You smiled, knowing exactly what she was referring to.

“Thank you, Poppy! You look splendid as well,” you smiled, returning the compliment to your Hufflepuff friend. Poppy hastily ran in front of you and opened the door to Charms class. Your eyes quickly scanned the classroom, not looking for anything in particular. When they landed on him, your heart seemed to skip a beat like it always did.

Sebastian was already there; he and Ominis were arguing sitting at the table adjacent to yours and Poppy’s. Your eyes immediately snapped to the boy, but only briefly.

Sebastian was dressed down today, which suddenly made your appearance feel out of place. His white button-down with rolled-up sleeves and a loose Slytherin tie looked so simple in comparison to your new look. You yearned to take a second glance, but you were sure it would have been too obvious that you were looking at him.

As you took your seat and spoke to Poppy, you occasionally let your gaze drift beyond hers and to the boy— his hair was messy. Had he even combed it this morning? You could just visualize him ruffling it for just a brief moment, looking in the mirror, and thinking ‘Good enough’. He would be shrugging his shoulders and following Ominis out the door as he yelled at Sebastian for making him late.

The way his shoulders were spread as he lay his head in his arms placed on the table was almost enchanting to look at. Was he speaking to Ominis or the girl at the next table? Your heart began to race, as you didn’t want to know the answer to that question. His head bowed once more before he sat upright. Yawning, he stretched his arms behind him and his gaze suddenly met yours. As you snapped your gaze back to Poppy, you heard him let out a tired groan. Oh, he knew what he was doing.

“Y/N?” Poppy asked as you re gained your focus back on the conversation you were having. “Yes!” you answered, a little too loudly and confidently.

“What is it?” Poppy inquired, turning her head to see exactly what you were looking at.

“Poppy! Not now,” you whispered and looked down at your shoes. “He’s smirking, you know. Playing with the end of his tie like an idiot.”

“You were saying?” you asked, changing the subject back to the original topic. “Sorry,” Poppy sighed. You gave her a comforting smile. “What color is that? On your lips,” she asked. You took the tiny tube of lipstick out from your robes, opened the cap, and showed Poppy. “Imelda let me use her dark cherry balm she got from Hogsmeade. She said it suits my complexion well but… I’m still not quite sure.”

You had spent all night practicing with Imelda. In previous days you had expressed your interest in makeup after noticing Imelda’s long eyelashes and flushed cheeks. She taught you the right way to apply makeup and how to make it look simple. The first time you applied your own she described it as ‘horrendous’. So, after staying up hours after curfew, you finally mastered the look you were going for. Imelda reviewed it and let you finally out of the dormitory after making sure you weren’t going to class looking like a fool.

“You're going to have to teach me sometime! It looks absolutely stunning. I’m not sure how you don’t have every prefect swooning over you right now.” Poppy said, gazing over your makeup look. “I would love to teach you sometime Poppy, what about—”

As you were about to finish your sentence, you heard the stool next to Poppy scrape against the floor. Before you knew it, the brown-haired boy leaped from the student section and onto the floor. He then approached your table, simply placing his hands firmly near the edges of your textbook, and looked down at you.

“What was I hearing about prefects?” he asked, squinting and studying your face. If the blush wasn’t enough, you were sure you were bright red.

“Are you interested in becoming one next year?” he asked. You shrugged, trying to ignore his addicting gaze. Poppy smiled and happily answered the question for you “I was just saying how I was surprised that—”

“Poppy!” you proclaimed, hitting her boot with the tip of yours. All in good fun, Poppy was one to exploit your confided crush on Sebastian any day.

“I have no interest in becoming a prefect, Sebastian.” you sighed, finally giving in and looking up at him. He took a step back, still squinting.

“Are you interested in becoming a clown then? With this new look, you’ll make a perfect carnie.”

Sebastian was expecting an eye roll and some slight beratement from you for that comment, but instead, he was met with a wide eyed-lips partially parted look from you. For the first time ever he considered that he may have crossed the line with you.

You were unsure of what to say.

“Sebastian!” Ominis called from their table. “Leave her alone. You have better things to do with your time than berating our friend.”

Poppy gave your arm a reassuring pat as Sebastian awkwardly made his way back to his seat. “He didn’t mean it. He’s just a stupid boy, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” she whispered to you just as Professor Ronan began his descent down the stairs from his office.

The pit in your stomach grew as the thought of Sebastian Sallows calling your work that you worked so hard on a ‘carnie’ ran through your head. 

-

“You're being oddly still,” Ominis whispered to Sebastian. He didn’t answer, Sebastian just stared blankly at the rug pattern Professor Roman was walking upon. Ominis poked Sebastian with his wand.

“I’m fine.” he gritted between his teeth. In reality, he was replaying the encounter he had with you just minutes before. Oh, how he wishes he could just suck those words back in. He always seems to mess something up.

“What exactly did you say to Y/N?” Ominis asked. Sebastian let out a sigh. “Nothing-”

“You're a terrible liar.”

“You're a terrible see-er,”

“Your comeback was weak.” Ominis sighed. “Just like your game,” he added.

“My what?”

The room was suddenly quiet and all eyes were on Sebastian. He had said that way too loudly.

“Is everything-” Professor Ronan began to ask Sebastian, but was interrupted.

Garreth Weasley had just made his way into the classroom. The large doors boomed as they shut behind him.

Garreth was a flirt. He would always try to make moves at you that you kindly rejected, but now it was more fun than serious.

He looked your way with a smooth look on his face, but his emotions quickly dropped. “Merlin’s beard Y/N! What did you do, make out with Peeves? He seems to have gotten some of those crazy colors on you!”

“Garreth!” Poppy shouted, doing her best to defend her friend.

That was enough of this makeup business.

You slammed your stool in as you left the Charms classroom almost in tears. Making your way towards the nearest bathroom, you looked in the mirror and looked at the running mascara down your cheeks.

Back in the classroom, there was a stir. Sebastian rose from his seat and met Garreth where he was standing. He took out his wand in one hand, and in the other he grabbed Garreth’s collar, jolting the boy slightly.

“Do that again, and you’ll wish you didn’t.”

Garreth stared at Sebastian with confused fear in his eyes. Sebastian’s grip on his collar tightened as his wand was pointed at Garreth’s neck. Usually, Sebastian was one to go along with his antics; why such the change now?

“Mr. Weasley and Mr. Sallows!” Professor Ronan yelled, causing Sebastian to drop his hold on Garreth. “This behavior is unacceptable! I will be having a word with your Aunt, Mr. Weasley.”

Garreth groaned. 

“And for you, Mr. Sallows— return to your common room. We will discuss this matter later,” Professor Ronan said, shoving the two boys even farther apart with his hands.

An excuse to miss class? Sebastian would have done this ages ago if he knew it would have had this result. You didn’t have to ask him twice.

As Sebastian turned the corner and was about to descend down the stairs, he noticed your books piled outside the bathroom. He hesitated to at first, but he pressed his ear against the door. Tiny sniffles came from inside. His hand wrapped around the doorknob, but to no avail. It was locked.

“Alohamora,” he whispered.

Your ears perked as you heard the lock on the restroom click. Quickly, you tried to collect yourself and be as silent as you could to allow the other girl to use the restroom. Or maybe it was Poppy coming to check in on you. Either way, you wanted to be alone. You stared down at the towel in your hand, smeared with the work you were so proud of just minutes before.

And then suddenly, you heard a voice. One you never expected to hear in a woman’s restroom.

“Y/N?” Sebastian asked.

What was he doing in here?

His shoes suddenly came into view as he walked in front of your stall.

“Go away, Sebastian.”

He sighed. “I can’t just do that,”

You sat silently, hoping that if you tried hard enough you could apparate somewhere else.

“Are you decent?” Sebastian asked. “Huh?” you replied, confused. Another swift “Alohamora” came from Sebastian. You rose from the toilet and slammed your arm against the door, using your whole body weight to keep him out. But to no avail, Sebastian was taller and stronger than you.

He was taken aback as you came into view. His heart simply broke at the vision in front of him.

“No,” he whispered almost in shock as he entered the stall with you. The guilt began to rise as he knew he was partially responsible for this.

“Sebastian please,” you begged, turning away. It was embarrassing enough that he had to see you like that; make-up smeared on your face that was left over and tear-stained cheeks weren’t the ideal look.

He took your hand carefully. Only entwining a few fingers at first before you allowed his hand into yours, against your better judgment. He walked out of the stall with you and stood in front of a sink.

“Sit,” he ordered. You stared at him in confusion. “Go on, don’t make me lift you.”

You leaped on the countertop and shuttered a bit as your skirt lifted and your bum hit the cool surface. Sweeping your skirt down nicely, you watched as Sebastian fetched a clean towel and began to wet it.

“What are you doing?” you asked as he ran out the damp towel. Sebastian didn’t answer, instead placing one hand on your jawline to steady your face. You almost slapped his hand out of place until the warm cloth reached your cheek.

“Try not to squirm, love.”

He moved so gently as the cloth ran over your cheeks. Sebastian hated seeing the mascara stains and was happy to see them washed away.

You couldn’t help it—more tears began to form in your lash line.

“No, no,” Sebastian said to reassure you. His hand left your jaw and moved to your hand in your lap. His fingers entwined with yours.

The cloth began to grow cold. Sebastian was almost done wiping your face, his gaze not leaving you once. As he made his final round around, making sure he got everything, his thumb brushed your lips by accident. The feeling of your soft lips was enough to send him wild.

He would be lying if he didn’t admit that when he saw you enter the classroom that he didn’t want that dark, honey-duke color all over his lips.

He sighed as he set the dirty towel next to the one you had used previously in the sink.

“I apologize,” he said sincerely.

“Sebastian—”

“Please, Y/N. I feel terrible.”

You looked down, his hand was still in yours. With his other hand, he brought his hand up to your chin and tilted it back into his line of sight.

“What can I do to make it up to you?”

“I…” you tried to answer. He seemed to be getting closer and closer with each breath.

“Do you want me to…” Sebastian speculated, his face nearing the side of your head. You could feel his breath on your ear.

“…fuck up Garreth?”

A slight gasp came from you as his hand moved from yours to your waist.

“Mm, Sebastian no.” you whimpered.

“Or… let me make it up to you.”

“P-please,” you sighed, nervous to move another inch. “What can I do?” he asked.

A sly smile came to your face.

“I do have one thing in mind.”

Your hand pushed him back from his close stance to you. Feeling his chest for the first time was quite a different experience. You didn’t expect to feel the warmth coming off his body through his thin shirt.

Hopping off the counter, Sebastian was now noticeably taller than you once again. Your hand dipped in your robes and pulled out Imelda’s lip balm.

“And?” he asked, getting impatient as he watched you take off the cap and place it on the counter. Sebastian tapped his finger on the counter. Taking one last glance at his ruffled hair and tattered stance, you turn to the mirror and applied a thick layer of the dark, thin balm on your lips.

“I want you to wear it.”

He let out a laugh. “It’s that simple? Give it to me. It’s not that bad anyways-”

Sebastian reached for the tube of lipstick. You quickly snatched it in your hands and snapped it away.

“W-what was that for? Y/N, come on now. Your confusing me. What do you want?”

You smirked, cocking your hips against the counter. “I said Sebastian, I want you to wear it.”

His jaw hinged as he began to get frustrated. All he was doing was trying to help you, and you were now playing games. Sebastian was done being toyed with. Bending down to become eye level with you once again, he spoke. His nose nearly touched the bridge of yours.

“And how would I do that? You obliviated the thing in to-”

You pushed up with your toes as you took the leap and kissed Sebastian. His eyes shot wide open as you kept yours shut. As he realized what was finally happening, his hands quickly moved to the back of your neck and into your hair. As he began to straighten his back, you began to lose him as he was too tall.

“Oh fuck…” he muttered, grabbing you and vaulting you into his arms and quickly sitting you up on the counter as he had previously threatened. With a very few seconds of breathing, his lips were back on yours and was eager as ever. His hands steadied at your waist as you let out a groan as he pushed down. He stood in between your legs, towering down over you.

As the kiss finally dissolved, his hands cupped your cheeks and looked down at you endearingly. A wide smile came to your face that matched his. You chuckled.

“What is it?” he teased, thinking you were being playful. “Your teeth, Sebastian.”

He looked up in the mirror and gave it a stupid grin. He had the dark lipstick all over his teeth. “Bloody hell, this stuff doesn’t taste good,” he whined as he used his finger to wipe off the excess lipstick. “It’s not meant to eat,”

“I can tell.”

Just as the banter was ending, the lock on the women’s restroom began to jiggle.

Sebastian gave you a worried look as the lock hooked open. In mere seconds, he gave you his infamous smirk and snapped his fingers. He was gone. Apparated out. Confused but not surprised that he knew how to do that, you let the inevitable happen and the door swings open.

“Y/N!” Poppy announced, rushing to find you sitting on the counter. “Are you alright?” she asked confused. To be fair, you were sitting on the bathroom counter with your legs spread a little too far for comfort, lipstick smeared all over your lips and partially your chin (don’t ask) and your hair was disheveled.

“Never better, Popps.”

You followed Poppy out of the bathroom and down the hallway. “You can’t go into class looking like that!”

You shrugged and tugged down your skirt. “Let’s get you cleaned up in my room.”

You followed Poppy once again. After moments of walking silently, she stopped.

“Are you alright?” you asked her.

Poppy had a tooth-baring grin on her face. “He was in there, wasn’t he!” she accused, excitement rising in her demeanor.

Your eyebrows rose as you sighed. She had finally come to the realization. Poppy was a smart girl, but you didn’t think she was that smart. You didn’t mind anyways, she was going to get all the details once you reached her quarters.

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” you dauntingly said, as you made your way further down the hall.

“I know the look of love when I see it.” Poppy said, catching up with you.

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise @mxtokko

[slytherinzz]

Sebastian Sallow:

“Rules? What rules? I consider them more like… guidelines with room for interpretation.”

“I’m not saying this was my best idea… but it is my most entertaining one so far.”

“Oh, come on! A little curse here and there builds character. You’ll thank me later.”

“I’d like to think I’m a perfect mix of charm, intellect, and just a dash of poor decision-making.”

“Listen, if you’re going to get in trouble, at least make it worth the detention. Trust me, I’m an expert.”

Ominis Gaunt

“You can’t see me rolling my eyes, but trust me, it’s happening.”

“Sebastian, if your brilliant plan involves me getting hexed again, I’m officially out.”

“Some families pass down heirlooms. Mine passes down generational trauma. But sure, let’s talk about my upbringing.”

“Just because I can’t see doesn’t mean I can’t tell you’re about to do something stupid. Stop it.”

“I don’t ‘hate’ people, Sebastian. I simply find the vast majority of them exhausting.

[sonolynn]

Thou Shalt Not Covet.

summary | Aemond loved her first, and it would be Aemond who loved her last.

pairing | Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Fem!Reader

tags | infidelity (cheating), cussing, alludes to smut, mentions of drinking, whores etc (normal Aegon things), typical Targcest, jealous and possive Aemond

w.c | 1.2 k

note(s) | This is my first Aemond fic! I haven't read the books, and have only seen the show so if Aemond is ooc then I'm sorry!

______________________________________________________________

She was his. By the way of his mind she belonged to him. His brother, first to everything and last to nothing, got everything Aemond wished he had. The iron throne, the crown, her. The marriage between her and Aegon was strictly political; there was no love, no affection between the two. If Aemond was honest with himself he liked that, liked how her affection could be saved and harboarded for him only. 

Aegon had his spoils. He had bastards, he had whores, he had wine. He did not need her, nor did Aegon particularly want to have her. But Aemond did. 

Because of Aegon’s particular disdain for his wife, the times that she was left alone and in the confines of her chambers were more than not. On these nights, Aemond would find himself climbing up the stairs, his hands shaking slightly, and his mind racing as the guards opened the door and let him enter his niece's chambers. 

______________________________________________________________

“Uncle.” Her voice rang out over the fire in her chambers, and Aemond felt his heart rate pick up. She held a book in her lap, no doubt trying to wrap her mind around the philosophies written into the texts. Aemond felt himself shiver lightly, the sound of her voice seemingly always doing things to him. 

He said her name softly, and he smiled to himself as he walked over to sit next to her. She smiled, her hand wrapping around his and her voice soft.

“How do you fare?” That is how all of their nights began. The light conversation of “how do you fare?” eventually led to her bed. 

Aemond’s eyes caressed her skin, his hands worshiping her body as his voice sung praises of her victories over his mind, soul, and body. He would not ravish her like his brother did, no. He would worship and glorify her body before him as if she was a temple, he would exalt her pleasure to the highest of highs before he even thought of his. Aemond treated her like a goddess, and she was reminded of this every time her name fell from his lips and his seed spilled inside of her.

When he would finish he wouldn’t leave her to clean up on her own, or fall asleep. He would kiss her body softly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her back as she came down from her high. He would hold her until she fell asleep in his arms, and in the morning he would wake, admire her body and her face that still shone in the glow of intimacy, before he would dress and leave. 

______________________________________________________________

She liked the garden. She, truthfully, adored the garden. It was, she thought, the only place where she would be free from listening to the moans of Aegon’s whores and the drunken laughs that would escape his lips. 

She found solace in the way the leaves swayed in the wind, the way the sun shone lightly through the cracks of the trees. But, what she truly waited for was Aemond. Once his duties were done he would come into the garden, and they would walk, and talk with one another for what felt like hours. 

On this particular day, the two walked and talked about nothing in particular-just how both of them liked it. But, a pair of seething eyes followed the two as they walked. Angered and betrayed, Alicent turned and walked away.

______________________________________________________________

When Aemond entered his chambers later that night, he was met with the burning gaze of his mother. His face remained stoic, and he slowly started to take off his belt that held his sword. 

“Mother. I did not expect you.” He spoke, his face illuminated by the fire as he sat in a chair, getting comfortable. His mother stood, standing in front of him as she glared down into her son's stoic expression. 

“You do not hide it well.” 

“I do not know what you speak of, mother.” 

Alicent gave Aemond a look, seeing straight through his stoic expression and hardened gaze. 

“You know what I speak of. You covet what is rightfully your brothers-” 

“Rightfully?” At these words, Aemond stood, glaring down at his mother with a complexed expression. “She is not rightfully Aegon’s. She is not rightfully the crowns-”

“She is his by law,” Alicent got right into her son's face, her hand pushing against his chest as she spoke. “By the law of the seven kingdoms she is his! You cannot parade around the castle, promenading as if you are an enthralled teenage boy courting a noble girl! She is married-” 

“You do not think I know what she is, mother? You do not think I see the ring she wears, or the name she bears now as a continuous tie to my brother?” The pain etched into the cracks of Aemond’s voice were subtle but not unnoticed. The way he spoke of his brother's wife with so much undignified and raw emotion made it clear to Alicent what he truly felt. Despite herself she sympathized with her son, trying to take his hands in hers as she spoke. 

“I understand, Aemond, how you feel. But you cannot go about so shamelessly coveting your brother's wife-the queen!” 

Aemond roughy pulled away from his mother, a sharp look hidden behind his amethyst  eyes as he spoke. 

"Do not speak to me as if my sorrows where your own!" Aemond seethed, pulling back a few paces as he glared at his mother, “Aegon is no husband! He may be my brother-my closest kin but he does not know how to properly care for her as I do. I know her mother, I know her wants, her desires, I know her more than Aegon has ever even tried to comprehend so damn all the gods and fuck Aegon because I would soon rather feed myself to Daemon’s dragon then let a man like Aegon sew his seed into her and ruin the beautiful women that the gods have given to me!”

The words coming out of her son’s mouth shocked Alicent. She never knew him to be so passionate about something-someone-so fiery as, gods be good, his brother’s wife. 

“Aemond she was never yours-” 

“She was,” his voice dropped and he stepped closer to his mother, breathing down as he glared, “The gods gave her to me, they made her for me! Her body was made to fit with mine, her soul was mine to know! Mother, it was all for me! But you? You are the one who gave her away to my brother. You are the one who took her from me.” 

Wishing for no more of this, Aemond turned, feeling himself breaking a little as he went. He knew he would never be hers, that she would never truly be his. 

______________________________________________________________

“You are troubled tonight.” 

She knew him better than he knew himself. Aemond’s head rested on her lap, her hand gently stroking through his platinum white hair. He breathed out slowly, his thumb idly stroking her knee. 

“I am thinking, sweet girl.” 

“I know that you are thinking, I just wish to know what it is you are thinking about.” 

At this he went silent. He knew no matter what lie he told her that she would always know the truth between the lies. So, instead, he sat up slowly and he gripped her cheek, kissing her softly. As if the words would be lost, and the meaning behind them burned. He made love to her like she was truly his, like she was his wife. As if..she wasn't even able to be coveted.

______________________________________________________________

[anomalyaly]

right where you left me

Summary: You died. Sebastian secretly had a portrait of you commissioned.

I profusely apologize for the pain.

Inspired by @sychenb for the prompt idea. Also crediting @sloanesallow for her headcanon about Sebastian keeping track of numbers.

(also sort of inspired by Unus Annus - iykyk - and Taylor Swift, if you couldn't guess by the title)

Tags: Angst, F!Reader POV (you), unreliable narrator, vague ship (Sebastian x reader/Ominis x reader), Sebastian was in love with you but never confessed, death, grief, ambiguous ending, overall the sads in general, I cried while writing this

AO3/Wattpad

It had been 279 days since you died.

At least, that’s what Sebastian tells you — your portrait, anyway. It was all that was left of you after the devastating battle you had fought and never walked away from. You hadn’t even known he’d had a portrait of you commissioned when you were alive until you woke up, your body cold, your face illuminated by the flickering candles of the Undercroft.

He comes to visit you every day — some days, he simply sits in front of you, cross-legged and silent. You creep into the frame and study him, the shadows on his face, a haunted look in his eye — unfamiliar. You can only recall a bright, talkative, charming boy with whom you were once close. You didn’t recognize him the first time he visited you, yet his presence brings you comfort.

On other days, you see traces of the boy he was before. He bursts in through the gate talking nonstop about everyone who misses you, about something he saw that you would have liked or that reminded him of you. Sometimes, he even brings you gifts and places them in front of your frame so you can admire them when he’s away.

That’s where he keeps you — hidden behind a wooden crate in the Undercroft like a sacred shrine, untouched by anyone but him. He only speaks with you when he is alone.

Another boy comes in on occasion, and you only know because of the sound of his voice and the pulsing red light of his wand that you can see from behind the pile of crates. Ominis, you remember Sebastian telling you, another friend from when you were alive. Sometimes they argue, other times they refuse to acknowledge each other. But Sebastian always keeps you tucked away, his own personal secret.

“It’s almost Christmas,” he sighs as he plops down in front of you. “300 days since you…well, since— ”

He could never bring himself to finish that sentence, even after almost a year. You never finish it for him.

“Are you going back to Feldcroft?” you ask, though you already know the answer.

He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t leave you here alone. I couldn’t do that to you.”

You knew he probably hadn’t been back since that dreadful day. He had only spoken of it once to refresh your memory. He never brought it up again.

“Sebastian,” you say, and he perks up at the sound of his name leaving your painted lips, “how come you always hide me away when Ominis comes in? Doesn’t he want to talk to me, too?”

His eyes flash with something — anger, perhaps, it was hard to tell from your two-dimensional world — and he stands, approaching your portrait. “He wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m only a portrait,” you tease, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s not like you’ve been practicing necromancy.”

It wasn’t the right thing to say, but you don’t completely understand why. He turns away from you, fists clenched, shoulders tense and hunched over, before running his fingers through his hair and repeating himself more adamantly. “He wouldn’t understand.”

You remember him uttering a similar statement throughout your short life at Hogwarts — secrets that only the two of you shared, unbeknownst to Ominis until it was too late. “Surely he misses me, too— ”

“Did you love him?”

The question takes you by surprise, though you think it’s not the first time he’s asked it. “What?”

Sebastian whirls to face you, his gaze intense, demanding. “Did you love him? Or did you love me?”

Your portrait blinks, confused. Truthfully, you hadn’t been alive nearly long enough to confirm your feelings for either of them, but you knew that both boys had been important to you during your last few months of life. The portrait of you had only been a time capsule of your fifteen-year-old self — undecided and immature. You’re not even certain if the emotions you feel now are real or remnants of what you experienced when you were alive. “I…I cared deeply for both of you if that’s what you’re asking.”

Your answer nearly breaks him, as if he’s heard it a million times before. He tugs at his hair, the movement causing him to look frenzied and mad. “That’s not what I asked! Who did you — ”

“Sebastian?”

The voice of the intruder causes both of you to freeze. Sebastian pulls himself out from behind the crate and holds a finger to his lips before pushing it in front of you once more.

“Over here, Ominis.”

You hear footsteps and see the red glow of the other boy’s wand, then shuffling as Sebastian strategically places himself in front of the wooden box. The echoing footsteps grow closer, and you straighten at Ominis’s frantic tone as he speaks.

“Who were you talking to?” he asks. “I…I thought I heard…her.”

“No one else is here but me,” Sebastian says, guarded.

You can practically feel Ominis’s internal struggle to believe him. You decide that there have been enough secrets between the three of you — you’re not going to let it carry on post-mortem.

“Ominis? Is that you?” you call out. You hear Sebastian press his body against the crate in front of you. Ominis pushes past him, and they both tumble into it, knocking it over and exposing your portrait.

Chaos ensues at Ominis’s realization. The two boys are shouting at each other in front of you as you are helpless to stop them — Ominis, for having yet another secret kept from him, and Sebastian, for defending his reasonings. You aren’t sure if it’s because of jealousy, grief, or some combination of the two, but all you want is for the noise to stop.

You call out helplessly from your portrait, wishing you could step between them, just as you had done time and time again all those months ago. Before everything had gone so wrong.

Suddenly, hot, angry tears are pouring down both of their faces, and you are overcome with just how useless you are at this moment — a fragmented memory, trapped within the confines of your magical canvas. You want nothing more than to hug each of them, to let them feel your arms around them in comfort and take their pain away.

But you are gone.

The two boys now stand solemn and silent in front of you. Ominis takes a step closer, his wand hovering over your portrait before he runs his fingers along the gilded frame. “Is it…really you?”

“No.” You can hear the flatness in Sebastian’s voice, how tired and worn he truly is. He repeats exactly what you thought only moments before as if to confirm it. “She hardly remembers what happened, or even who we are. She’s just a fragment. A memory.”

You want to argue that it is you, but you know that he’s right. You barely remembered your living self until Sebastian explained everything to you on his daily visits. Whispers of your personality still shine through on occasion, but you are otherwise simply existing.

Ominis sighs, and you can hear the weight behind it, as if he had been holding his breath and finally allowed himself to release it. He traces his fingers along the divots of the frame once more, and you try to will yourself to feel it.

The two boys exchange an unspoken conversation that thickens the tension in the air. They seem to come to an agreement, and you let out a small breath — if you can call it that — of relief when they sit down in front of you and appear to bask in your presence. You stay quiet and allow them this moment — it’s the only thing you can do.

The days that follow are the same. No longer is Sebastian coming in alone for covert meetings with your portrait. Now, you see both Sebastian and Ominis at the same time every single day, a religious appointment that they’ve set aside just for you. They take turns talking to you, even if they can only manage a few words, and you learn to appreciate their company, knowing that you were loved by both of them in life.

Just like old times, Sebastian says, and the three of you laugh.

Christmas approaches quickly, or that’s what they say when they come to visit a short while later. They bring your favorite things from when you were alive — chocolate frogs, flowers, even books, which Sebastian reads to you — and they tell you stories about you and the kind of person they knew you to be. You wonder if it’s true, or if they have created an idealistic image of you since you are no longer there with them. Not really.

Kind, they say that you were, thoughtful, loving, self-sacrificial, and maybe a bit idealistic. You were friends with both of them, after all, the mischievous pair that they were, before everything was taken away from them, before life was unfair. They try to smile for you and remind you that Christmas at the castle is a time for celebration, but you can tell that it’s a weak facade.

You smile back at them anyway.

The anniversary of your death approaches. Neither of them can bring themselves to say anything, aside from a few words to honor you. So the three of you sit in tearful silence, admiring the flowers that they decorated your portrait with. You think you can almost smell the sweet aroma of the bouquets.

Something changes in the air — you can sense it — though you aren’t sure what. You notice it when their visits become shorter, with fewer stories to tell, and fewer presents left in front of your frame. Sebastian and Ominis start showing up at separate times, stopping in for a brief hello before leaving with an excuse. You start to wonder what they are doing when they are gone, but you are unable to leave your frame — only one portrait of you was ever commissioned.

Soon, they start missing days, returning at a later time with profuse apologies about how life was busy, but they still miss you. Difficult classes, detention, studying for NEWTs, and preparing for a career — all of these seem to take precedence over you. But they still manage to make time in all of the hectic day-to-day activities, and you look forward to the days when they do come.

You wake up one morning and realize you are in a different location — Feldcroft, most likely, though you hadn’t seen it since that fateful day. Sebastian hangs your frame up on the wall, promising that he and Ominis will come to visit you more often now that they have graduated.

They don’t.

The length of time in between seeing them grows longer, you’re certain of it. Each time one of them arrives, they look a little bit different — sometimes they have longer hair, other times a bit of scruff around their chins, but they always come in looking more weathered than they had when you last saw them.

You realize that they are doing something that you will never again be able to join them in — growing older. You start to wonder about their lives outside of you, yet your painted mind cannot comprehend what an adult life looks like, forever frozen in your adolescent state. You find that you are unable to relate to any of their stories, and they seem to be holding back in what they choose to share.

I wish you were still here, they always say before they go, and you start to wonder if they mean it.

At long last, the visits from your once two closest friends become scarce, and you aren’t certain how much time has passed since someone last spoke to you. The bright flowers that once decorated your golden frame wither and die, and the little gifts they used to leave stay untouched and unopened. The tiny cottage in Feldcroft becomes a sepulcher of your essence — a permanent reminder that you are no longer among the living.

You can’t help but wonder if it was something you did, if their reasons for not returning were your fault. You can feel the stories that they used to tell you fading away, unable to retain the memories in your current form.

You decide that it’s time to rest.

In the quiet house, just south of Hogwarts, your portrait closes its eyes. You do not wake again.

[btsbabe7]

Perfect Storm

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x reader

Warnings!: 18+, unprotected sex

Synopsis: While Ominis grapples with his feelings, you embrace your own in full bloom.

Ominis sits in a complete daze, exactly three rows from the front of The History of Magic. In a class where sleep is prioritized over education, he finds himself wide awake and engulfed by his own thoughts.

At a young age, Ominis Gaunt had learned the mastery of concealing his disdain, his happiness, and all other emotions in between that may apprehend him. It was a skill he found himself most proud of, especially as a Slytherin, simply because it kept him safe from the consequences of raw emotions and how others may perceive them. But on this particular afternoon, an hour after your coffee brown feathered owl, Nora had chirped seven times through his windowsill, Ominis felt something arise.

A feeling he had long forgotten had begun to muddle up and settle in the hollowness of his chest as it would after a sip of freshly brewed Butterbeer or morning pumpkin juice on an empty stomach. He’d only felt this way twice in his entire life. Once, when he’d learned he’d been invited to attend Hogwarts and would finally be able to escape the harsh scrutiny and peculiar upbringing of his pureblooded parents. Secondly, when he’d been introduced to Sebastian and Anne Sallow during his first year of attending. However, he would have never guessed that he’d feel this way about you, his now, not-so-new best friend that he can’t seem to stop thinking of. Though, there is one thing Ominis knows for certain, and that is that he must stop his heart from becoming too attached. Otherwise, the feeling would fester and utterly consume him.

When Professor Binns dismissed class, a herd of yawning students stumbled out in the connecting hallway of The Bell Tower in pure delight. As they do, you scan the crowd over, student by student, looking for only one in particular.

Amit Thakkar. Eric Northcott. Lenora Everleigh. Natsai Onai, who stops at your side with a sly smirk.

“Next time you decide to skip Binns’ class, I beg you have Nora deliver a notice beforehand. As much as I appreciate a midday nap, I do cherish adventure even more.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you giggle, though you know Natsai wouldn’t have wanted to join in on the adventure that had pulled you away from class on this particular day.

The high of Sebastian’s presence that typically lingered long after the fact comes to a standstill at the thought of other’s putting the pieces together. Surely word would soon travel of you missing your History of Magic course and the coincidence of your best friend Sebastian missing his Astronomy one simultaneously. That thought alone is what steals your concentration from the leaving students and causes your mind to wander. A few seconds more and a small tap has you jolting as if you’ve seen a ghost for the first time.

“Ominis,” you breathe in relief.

“I could smell you,” he chuckles. “Well, you smell of Sebastian actually.”

“Oh, yeah… I, uh… We bumped into each other on the way to class and decided to ditch.”

Ominis is silent for a moment. He can always detect your hesitation when you lie, but it wasn’t a completely lie. You hope in your heart that he’ll buy it and not question any further, and in your favor, he chooses the latter.

“Nora stopped by before class,” he states. “She only chirped seven times. So you’re early, despite missing class.”

You rope your arm in Ominis’ and lead him downstairs and towards the doors which lead you out the castle.

“On my way over, I figured we could head to Hogsmeade early. We’re both done for the day and we don’t get much time alone without Seb. I tried to convince him to stay in tonight, but he was adamant about spending time with both of his best friends.”

Ominis hums in curiosity. Wondering what you’d bargained with Sebastian to get him to give you and him any time alone at all. Despite his curiosity, his own excitement wins the battle. He hadn’t had a moment alone with you since you’d met him, and with Sebastian out of the way, even for a short moment, he’d finally have you to himself.

“Do we have to go to The Three Broomsticks? If we aren’t due there until seven this evening, we can go elsewhere?”

You purse your lips as you both waltz through the doors and into the warm breeze of spring. The air smells of heavy rain. The type of rain that smells of earth and dew and brings the worms from their humble adobes in the soil.

“I suppose we could go wherever we please.”

Ominis smirks, but turns in the opposite direction in order to conceal it from you.

“Perhaps we could go to The Undercroft?”

You glance up towards the sky. Heavy, grey clouds settle in the distance, remnants of a storm while another dares to roll in at a moment’s notice. As much as you love a brilliant storm, you’d love to spend time alone with Ominis more. After all, many storms have hovered in the skies above the grounds of Hogwarts, but time alone with your Slytherin friend weren’t as frequent.

“The Undercroft,” you hum in agreement.

Careful to evade the nosiness of curious students and staff, you and Ominis slip into the concealment of The Undercroft with relieved sighs. You gaze over the darkened room, casting Confringo towards the four hanging lamp posts before continuing inside.

Abandoned furniture, rusting cauldrons, and dusty barrels are stacked high against the surrounding walls, making the room appear much smaller than it feels. The room itself smells of burnt embers, left behind from all the times you and the duo had practiced Confringo here on end. You smile at the memories before meeting Ominis in the center of the room enveloped between four hefty, ornate columns.

A rug sits there now, one you’d managed to buy over Christmas break and bring in from home with the help of an Extension Charm. The others hadn’t seen it yet since you’d just placed it today before meeting Sebastian in the secrecy of his empty dorm.

“Confringo truly warms up the room,” Ominis breathes sarcastically before settling down. His brows rise at the sudden change of surface and he allows his fingertips to mold themselves into the thick fibers of the woolen rug with a gentle breath. “A rug?”

“Don’t you and Seb get tired of sitting on frigid concrete?”

“I’ve known nothing else.”

You smile softly, happy that you’re allowing him to experience something new in his safe place.

With your own need to relax, you kick your shoes off and drop your robe before joining Ominis on the rug. He jolts up at the feeling of your knee pressing against his and tries to imagine your facial features in this moment, calm and soft.

“I wish we could enjoy the storm from here,” you whisper. “I’d love to hear the heaviness of the rain pitter pattering around us. The rumbling of thunder that comes with the rolling clouds.”

Ominis smiles. Taking in your words and imagining them in his head. The coolness of the rain prickling against your flesh and curls. What rolling clouds would look like when the thunder rumbles beneath your feet and lightning streaks through gray clouds. The way your lips curl into a grin and eyes close when you’re in a state of peace and tranquility only a storm can offer. You take your bottom lip in with a smile, laughing to yourself at the thought. It’s as if you and Ominis had shared the imagery telepathically.

“Y/n,” Ominis calls, though he has no words to say. After all, anything that would come out in this moment would come out as a stutter and surely you’d laugh in his face, even as his friend.

But you respond in the softest your voice has ever been around him, a simple yes, and he finds himself swooning. He falls silent, closes his eyes and takes in the smell of burning coals in the nearby lamps. It’s not the smell of wet earth, but it is familiar. As familiar as the fluttering in his stomach as he lies back in hopes to push them away, the butterflies. And much to his dismay, you replicate the action.

The smell of Sebastian has long worn away and your own smell of vanilla and worn book pages returns. The warmth of your body so close to his has him fighting to steady his breathing. He shuffles a bit in an attempt to create space, but ends up slapping his hand into yours instead. You smile at the feeling and allow your palm to clasp around his with a soft exhale.

A few moments of silence pass by and you drop Ominis’ hand to roll onto your side. With one hand propping up the side of your head, your eyes roam over your best friend. His robe is parted and his tie sits tightly around the ring of his crisp, white collar that’s nestled underneath his buttoned vest and open jacket. The hem of his button-up is still neatly tucked inside his belted, checkered grey trousers. His full length grey socks are pulled to the knee and stuffed inside his short boots. And when your eyes gaze up towards his face, a soft smile sits on his lips as if he’s deep inside a fantasy only he can see.

“What’re you thinking about?”

Ominis’ smile turns into a hoarse cough, almost a choke. You pat him gingerly on the chest until he heaves out one last cough and wipes away the tears.

“Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Y-you didn’t,” he spats out. “I just didn’t know you were observing me.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? You’re the most interesting object in the room.”

His cheeks turn a cherry red and he gazes away nervously.

“I believe you to be more interesting,” he mutters.

You come up to your knees, allowing them to sink into the soft fibers of the rug.

“Prove it.”

You shock yourself and Ominis with that line, but it does the trick of pulling his reddened face back in your direction. Had this been Sebastian and you’d given him the chance, he wouldn’t have bat a lash before making a move, but Ominis has always been your greatest challenge. You know he won’t be the first to make the move even if the stone lies within his court. So, you find yourself climbing into his lap, straddling him as he attempts to find the words to say or expression to convey in response to your boldness.

“It’s alright,” you whisper.

“Are you sure?”

“Completely.”

Ominis’ trembling hands plant themselves against your jawline, thumbing over your soft cheeks, then the circumference of your lips. His mouth parts and your own need to feel him consumes you. You repeat the action of grasping his face and lean in closer until all that’s between you is a slither of air.

“Y/n,” Ominis speaks quickly. The call of your name propels his warmth against your lips. “This will change everything.”

“I know, Omi.”

He hesitates, then allows himself closer in consent. You settle down in his lap completely and draw your hands to the hairs at the nape of his neck, taking in the coarseness before your eyes flutter closed and your lips press gently into his.

Ominis’ body shutters underneath you as if he’s been set ablaze while yours kicks into overdrive. You help him slip off his robe and jacket, then mindlessly pluck the large, grey buttons from the holes of his vest. He shrugs out of it and clasps his arms around you, moaning as you both deepen the kiss and fall back on the rug. His hands travel over your waist, down your hips, then down your thighs on either side of him. He mentally takes in that you chose to wear a dress today, knowing he could use that to his advantage if you both chose to go any further.

You pull away breathlessly and in a daze, drinking Ominis’ relieved express in like cool water.

“Do you think we have time?” You ask aloud, not necessarily to him as you reach back to grab your pocket watch from the inner pocket of your own robe. Barely an hour before you’re set to meet Sebastian in Hogsmeade. It’s not nearly enough time, but with the pout on Ominis’ face, you can’t deny yourselves the pleasure. “We’ll be quick…”

Ominis chuckles at the shakiness of your voice before pulling your lips back to his. If he had to face an annoyed Sebastian because you both arrived late, he’d take that over missing this opportunity with you. And in agreement, you and Ominis strip down to your undergarments in no time. Once his hand brushes against your bare flesh, he squeezes his eyes shut and pulls you down against him.

“Have you done this before?”

He shakes his head.

“Have you?”

You fear being honest in a time like this, when you know he’s so vulnerable, but you also know Ominis would be able to read your lies easily. Besides, in a time like this where everything is sacred, lying seems cruel.

“Only once,” you reply shakily.

Ominis’ expression fades into something unreadable, then a smirk appears.

“Perhaps you can show me how it’s done then?”

You scoff nervously. It wasn’t the response you were expecting. In fact, you were thinking he’d nudge you off of himself and start to redress. That you’d end up wallowing in shame all night over Butterbeers at the embarrassment.

You waste no time grinding against him, getting a feel for his size as soft pleas slip from his lips. Your own lips gasp at the feeling of him growing hard beneath your warmth. A bit surprised by his size, you lift up just enough to work the hardened member from his briefs. With a purr, you rub down the length and move your own garments to the side. You grasp one of Ominis hands and position it between your legs, and you swear his eyes widen like the moon at the sensation.

“Touch me here for now,” you croon, already aching in anticipation of the pleasure you know he won’t deny you.

Ominis rubs down your length, taking in the number of folds it takes to get to the source of your warmth. He clamps his hand over the mound, then slips a single finger into your depths, which earns a moan from your throat. He seems to like it, the prize that comes from knowing he’s touching you correctly.

“Just like that, Omi,” you mewl seconds before he pulls his finger in and out of your arousal. You work your own hand over his full length with a coating of your own saliva. “Can’t wait to feel you inside my wet pussy.”

He stops short as if his brain hadn’t processed it beforehand. He could feel you even more, more than his finger. Skin to skin, body to body. Luckily, you can’t deny yourself the pleasure anymore, and knowing that time is ticking by, you climb back into his lap and take him back into your grasp before lining your entrance up with the tip of his erection. It only takes the feeling of the tip poking inside to pull a heavy groan from Ominis’ lips. It makes you smile, the sight of him already squirming as you slip down the rest of his length with a loud whimper.

“Fuck, Omi, your cock feels amazing.”

“Y/n,” he whines and grips your waist the moment you start gliding back and forth with the length of his cock stuffed inside. It almost slips out, then you skillfully retract it back in. He squirms every time it comes close to falling out, a pinch of panic at the idea of losing this feeling.

His eyes shut and his blunt nails burrow into your flesh as you find a steady pace and your palms rest against his sweaty chest. You knew Ominis would feel astronomical inside of you, but he never knew he’d quickly become addicted to the feeling of himself being buried deep inside your depths.

You toss your head back and move Ominis’ hands up to your chest. He massages your breasts softly and unskillfully, scared of squeezing too hard in fear of hurting you.

“Lick them? Please?” You squeak and falter towards him. “Suck them.”

He feels for one of your protruding nipples and laps his warm tongue over the left, which causes the right to ache painfully in neglect. You massage into it yourself while trying to keep your pace. He pulls the left between his teeth and sucks on it hard, causing you to squeal before he moves to the right. You ride him faster, too overtaken by your own pleasure to notice him trembling beneath you. His own pants intertwine with yours and his hands find your hips again, this time guiding you up and down his twitching length.

“Y/n, I think I—“ Ominis’ words get caught in a groan so deep, your eyes flutter open.

“Oh, Omi… I’m going t— Nngh!”

He thrusts his hips upwards and your words fade into a sharp scream that leaves you shaking and trembling against him. Your eyes roll back and he pulls out of you with tremors of his own. You feel a warm liquid spurting against your ass and you sigh in relief before collapsing on top of him. His chest heaves violently against yours. His, then yours until they fall back into a rhythmic pattern of normalcy.

Silence falls over the room once again and you trace lines down Ominis’ abdomen mindlessly. Yet, in his mind, he’s attempting to come to terms with the act you two just committed. He’s sure this will change absolutely everything.

Will he start bantering with Sebastian when he mindlessly flirts with you?

Will he slip up and curse one of the other students who brag about how hot the hero of Hogwarts is?

He would now know just how hot you can get after finally having you this way. Would that knowledge alone push him over the edge?

On the outside, he remains calm, but you sense that his mind is elsewhere. You trail a fingertip from the center of his forehead and down the bridge of his nose before leaning over him.

“What’s plaguing your mind, Ominis?”

He’s hesitant, but thinks better of. If he’s had you like this, in his most vulnerable state of nudity, then surely he can admit his feelings.

“I’m worried about the others… Sebastian…”

“What about them?”

“What they’ll think or say. About the lewd comments I overhear in class. And if we continue to do this, they’ll begin to notice we’re becoming more than friends.”

You ponder it over for a moment, but surely being perceived as more than friends wouldn’t be so preposterous.

“There are worst things out there, Ominis Gaunt, than our peers perceiving us as more than friends. Perhaps you wouldn’t be too worried if instead of being friends, w—”

“Instead of being friends?” Ominis sputters in confusion and panic.

You pat his chest gingerly.

“Yes, Omi. Instead of being friends, you consider being my boyfriend instead? And when they inquire, we’ll simply tell them we’re courting each other.”

His face turns as pale as Professor Binns’, a true ghost, and he sits straight up as if to prevent a choking fit again.

“You want to court me? You truly fancy me?”

“Of course. I thought that much was evident. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have spent the entire afternoon attempting to get Sebastian’s blessing of giving us time alone. And I surely wouldn’t be plastered against your body fully naked,” you snort.

Color fades back into his cheeks, but he remains flustered. That’s the reason you smelled of Sebastian, you’d been in his dorm all afternoon, and knowing Sebastian, convincing him would’ve taken a while. And now it made perfect sense that he’d granted you the time alone and hadn’t once wondered into The Undercroft with all the time that’s passed. It’s as if everything has finally clicked in his mind.

Ominis recognizes something else too, the feeling that had settled in his chest earlier in the day. It’s the very feeling he felt once he was granted freedom from the abuse of his parents, the feeling he felt when he’d met Sebastian and Anne, the feeling you grant him now and always have, is hope. A hope for something new and better in the midst of his own chaotic storms. And with that realization, Ominis caresses your cheek and presses his lips ever so slightly into yours.

And after a few deep kisses, he pulls back, leaving a sliver between you two to flash a brilliant smile before finally answering your burning question.

“Of course I’ll be yours. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Please be sure to check out my other latest fics:

⚡︎ Rain Does Not Fall on One Roof Alone (m.) - Ominis Gaunt x Sebastian Sallow x reader

⚡︎ Untitled (m.) - Sebastian Sallow x Ominis Gaunt x reader

⚡︎ Golden - Sebastian Sallow x reader

⚡︎ Coffee (Love You a Latte) - Sebastian Sallow x reader

⚡︎ For You Always (m.) - Severus Snape x reader

⚡︎ HP: November Prompt Challenge (days 1-30)

~ Navi: masterlist (all fandoms)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction, but please don’t copy! Written purely for fun :) Please only repost to other socials w/my permission and credit! Reblogging w/credit is fine. Thank you! ♡

May 2024

[zevrra]

never forget—

synopsis: where sebastian is actually worried about MC and regrets casting crucio on them caaaause that moment in the game was not enough for me pfft!

tags: 18(+), lil angst, mostly fluff, sebastian(18) x reader, i didn’t know how to end this oops, one-shot, 2k words.

“Crucio!”

The pain that followed that one little word was excruciating.

Yet the spell casted upon you was of your own doing. You, Ominis, and Sebastian had become good friends since your first day at Hogwarts. Always together, always the 3 of you somehow in trouble. Well, mostly you and Sebastian. Somehow Ominis always managed to get out of the trouble the two of you dragged him into. You were Slytherin after all, it was most likely in your blood.

When you first met Sebastian, he had such an eager to learn that his demeanor was contagious. So much so you couldn’t help but also want to gain more knowledge with him over the years. It was all thanks to Ominis from keeping you two from ending up expelled. Your savior in a sense. But ever since the three of you had become good friends, Sebastian never let up about Salazar Slytherin. He was set on finding his Scriptorium, begging Ominis for so long to show him the way. Seeing as he believed finding it would help cure his sister’s, Anne, curse.

When Ominis had finally given into you both and led the way, the three of you worked wonderfully together. Traversing dark and wary caves. Fending off giant spiders, solving puzzles all that good stuff. Until finally you reach a room with a single note, bones buried in dirt, no way out, the word CRUCIO etched into the stone before your feet, and what looked to be a screaming apparition burned onto a mirror.

You sadly read the note aloud for all to hear. Detailing a grim last few words from Ominis’s aunt. Who unfortunately had gone looking for the Scriptorium, alone, and met an untimely fate. You reach out to gently touch Ominis’s shoulder and he stills beneath your touch.

“I’m so sorry about your aunt, Omni.” You mourn. He nods in acceptance. Nothing they did now could’ve changed what had happened to his aunt. He would at least find some peace in knowing what happened to her.

Sebastian is at your side then. Concerned look on his own freckled face. “Ominis…I know it’s hard. But the letter details using Crucio. You’re the best suited for this—“

“No! I won’t do it. To use Crucio you have to mean it. I will not cast that spell ever again…especially on you two.” Ominis steps away from your reach. Closing off from the activity entirely. You didn’t blame him.

You turn to face Sebastian then who looks..almost disappointed with Ominis's rejection. He gestures for you to follow him closer to the wailing mirror. Hauntingly beautiful, even in its twisted state.

“Well, two options. You cast Crucio on me, or I…cast it on you. It’s the only way we’re getting out of here. We can’t die here and now because of—of morals.” Sebastian whispers to you. The thought of dying in that suffocating tomb alone makes your skin crawl.

Ominis had always been vocal about how horrible any of the killing curses were, especially this spell. Seeing as he was forced to cast it when he was younger. The nightmares still haunt the blonde from what you could tell. His sleepless nights. The flinch at loud noises. It was obvious, whatever you decided, that this would forever weigh heavy on your soul. Yet the spell…could come in handy when facing Ranrok. He was your enemy after all.

You hoped it would never come down to using it though.

“Fine. Teach me the spell but you…you cast it on me. I won’t hurt you Seb.” You mumble. And at first, he’s hesitant. His wand slightly swayed before he reluctantly nods. His hands slightly shake as he teaches you the wave of the wand. He had never performed the dark arts before and this could go very wrong or just really wrong. Either way was going to hurt. But you trusted him.

That’s how you ended up in the here and now. Agonizing pain ripped through your flesh like lightning. Flames behind your eyeballs that force them to shut tight. Hoping to ease the pain away. Your teeth gnash against your lip to hold back screams of pain. It does nothing. Dark magic moves under your skin like writhing red and green tentacles. You gasp between almost suffocating screams.

Breathe in, scream, breathe out.

Your back is against the stone, arched, burning hot. Even as Ominis, or maybe it was Sebastian’s, or both of their hands are grabbing at your arms. Cool fingers press into your hot flesh as the boy’s try to lift you from the floor.

They try to comfort you during one of the worst moments of your life. It doesn’t help. They both fumble as they move you into the room that opened up behind the wailing mirror. The pain is nauseating. Every fumble, correction, and movement makes your stomach churn. Threatening to spill out your lunch. Your consciousness is slowly fading at this point. Stars blinking behind your eyelids as you grasp for whatever you can to stay awake.

Through the pulsing pain in your head and ears, you barely hear the two boys arguing. More or less Ominis yelling about how he was right. How this was a stupid idea as he struggles to help carry you. Ominis can’t see where he steps yet he’s trying so hard to save you now.

“You—you’re both idiots!” Ominis snarls. Struggling with words through his rage and panic. “How could you do something like this!”

“I understand, Ominis! Just—just, Merlin, help me! Help me get to the infirmary!” Sebastian spits back as they continue to fumble around, looking for an exit.

The last thing you hear is Sebastian calling for desperate help before the pain becomes too much and finally takes you under. Passing out from the curse spell later than you would’ve liked.

When concussions come back to you, it’s almost unbearable. Your eyes flutter open but fall closed once again. Maybe you could just stay like that for forever. Lying on a cloud, nice and warm, with your eyes closed. Eh, sounds a little too much like death for your liking.

Thankfully, your second attempt at waking up is far more fruitful. Candlelight flickers rapidly at the edge of your feet as your eyes slowly come into focus. You make out the white sheets laying across your body. Feel the firm mattress against your back. Connecting the dots, slowly but surely, that you were in the infirmary.

Your head moves slightly to continue looking around. Hoping a nurse was close by so you could ask for some water or medicine or anything to make the dull ache in your body stop. Instead your eyes find Sebastian.

His unruly brown hair is somehow even messier than usual. He slumps against the side of your bed and from what you can tell, he might be asleep. Seeing as it was sometime during the night. If you had to guess he probably snuck into the infirmary to be at your side.

Suddenly memories of what happened in the Scriptorium come back to you. Sending a harsh chill down your entire body. The cast of Crucio echoes in the back of your mind. You’ll never forget the feeling. Or the look on Seb’s face as he waved the spell and casted it upon you.

‘Crucio can only be cast if you mean it.’ You remember Ominis’s haunting words. Sebastian must’ve meant it. But you try your best to not blame him. He was just trying to get you all out of that stone grave.

“Seb…” You try to speak. Your throat burns as you attempt to rouse the sleeping man at your side. Voice hoarse, borderline gone, from what you can only assume is from the screaming you barely remember doing. “Sebastian.” You barely manage his full name.

His body shifts at the sound of his name but he doesn’t rise. So you make your way to sit up. Although the moment you prepare to sit up, weight shifting ever so slightly, Sebastian shoots up instantly. His pretty green eyes meet your gaze in a wild look. As if he can’t believe you’re awake. Dried drool sticks to the edge of his lips. You can’t help but laugh. Or what you assume is a laugh. To Seb it probably sounds like you’re coughing.

“I—we—are you okay?” Seb stumbles over his words. Knowing Sebastian, he most likely had something planned to say the moment you woke up. Yet now he was almost speechless. For the first time ever.

“I’m o-okay just…w-water.” You manage to mumble. Now he’s quick to react. A glass of water is held out with lightning speed to you and you take it graciously.

After a moment of what felt like an eternity of being parched, you chug the water given to you, before you hand the glass off and sit fully upright. Your fingers lay in your lap, picking at the cotton of the blanket.

Silence falling between the two of you was so uncommon. It almost felt worse than writhing in pain. Not really but the wall built up was hard to ignore. You needed that wall to come down.

“How long was I asleep?” You ask softly. Breaking the silence as your throat is finally feeling better after some water.

“Three days,” Sebastian replies. He doesn’t look at you. You don’t blame him, not really. The guilt must weigh heavy on his shoulders.

Three days. The fact that it had been days since you had passed out in the scriptorium made your gut twist. You can’t even imagine what rumors must have spread among the school. Or the amount of questions the headmaster will be asking you. Oh you were definitely in for some trouble.

“I’m so sorry.”

Apologies were not something Sebastian was known for. The fact that he was apologizing at all was almost shocking. You didn’t have to guess that he didn’t really mean it when he casted Crucio. It was all just a matter of choices, for you all to survive.

“It’s okay,” Your voice is soft as you speak. “I don’t want you to blame yourself. I agreed to it Sebastian,” You remind him. It only makes Seb angrier with himself.

“Of course I blame myself! I could’ve killed you!” Sebastian says in a strained voice. He wants to scream and yell. He wants you to scream and yell at him. For letting him do something so stupid. For not listening to Ominis in the first place. For being too eager.

“It was a matter of life or death Seb you know that—“ You began to say but he cuts you off as he quickly stands from his chair.

“But what if there was another way!? What if I didn’t have to…didn’t want to—I could’ve changed something!” He angrily hisses as he turns his head away from you.

Silences befalls between the two of you again. Stretched longer than previously as you can’t think of something to say. He had three days to beat himself up for dragging all three of you to that scriptorium. You couldn’t imagine how many scenarios he himself had imagined over and over again while in your slumber.

“What if I had lost you?”

The soft words are barely loud enough to hear. Just a whisper under his breath you almost can’t manage to make out. But you do. The somber confession comes at you like a heavy rainstorm. Unexpected, welcoming, lovely, and a little noisy from his previous minor outburst. Building from a small drop to a straight downpour and you’re caught in the middle of it with no umbrella.

Even in the candlelight you see the tips of ears, beat red as he refuses to look at you. Shoulders tense as he tries to will himself to calm down. It was late, you weren’t supposed to be awake, and he wasn’t supposed to be there. It was not the time for this conversation.

Yet it makes you smile anyway. Butterflies jump around under your skin, in your heart, stomach following suit in doing somersaults. You reach with a gentle hand and grab hold of his shirt sleeve, giving it a tug. For a moment he stands completely still. Debating whether or not it was the right moment to hash all of this out. It wasn’t. Yet a second tug on his sleeve has him turning to finally look at you.

This time when you meet his green eyes, his wild look is gone. He looks at you like you’re the cure to whatever alignment he’s currently experiencing. It’s a saddened, sleepless, relieved look. Feeling every emotion he’s ever felt in his life all in the span of a few short seconds.

You smile fondly at Sebastian, praying he could see it in the soft light of the infirmary. “But you didn’t,” You remind him. Almost gesturing to you, him, and your surroundings. “I’m still here, Seb.”

Sebastian simply nods. Not having the courage to speak for it may bring him to tears. Now that would truly be the end of the world if that happened.

You reach for his hand. Reassuring and gentle as your fingers intertwine with his. He’s stiff as a board at your touch. He has always yearned for it but never had the faith to act upon his feelings.

“Plus, it’ll take more than that to get rid of me.” You say hoping to ease the young man’s feelings. At least for tonight.

A squeeze to your hand is the only response you receive as he returns to his seat. He rests your connected hands on the bed before his head follows suit. Instead of returning to the side of your bed he makes himself comfy on your thigh. You smile at the puzzling picture before you.

The great Sebastian Sallow, a man who rarely asks for any help, unless it involves trekking in some dark cave somewhere, was vulnerably sprawled out on top of you.

You stifle a giggle, fearing if he heard you laugh he would assume the worst and pull away. Instead your free hand pushes through his hair. Pushing away dark curly hair from his freckled face.

“You should return to the dorms before the nurse finds you.” You hum as your eyes scan his own closed eyes. Gazing at the lengths of his eyelashes. Every freckle you could see, thinking how fun it could be to count them one day.

“‘Ts fine,” Sebastian shrugs it off. You hear the softness of his breathing, slowly becoming shallow as he falls asleep. Fast asleep in your thigh with his hand tightly wound to yours. You wish you could have a painting done of this moment. Hoping by every ounce of magic in your veins that you never forget this feeling or the sight. And by Merlin does the sight make your heart ache and pound in equal parts.

You just hoped to never go through something like this ever again. Hopefully Sebastian would see how powerful and dangerous the dark arts could be and look for another solution to healing Anne’s curse. Maybe the ancient magic you wield could help next time instead of turning to the unforgiving curses.

[alliezarin]

it’s been a while since the last time i posted on tumblr… i always forget about this platform hehe

here’s a (1/3?) part of my alice’s lore- some will call this a hoax bc some people love my oc too much,, so i won’t reveal if it’s canon or not, not yet 👀👀

truth is i had this sketched from july’23 and i didn’t finish it until a year after 💀💀 but here it is now

[sissyisawitch]

Actions Speak Louder Than Words

Relationship: Ominis Gaunt x You

Summary: Even though the two of you are not on good terms after a certain event, you and Ominis decide to go and explore Salazar Slytherin's Scriptorium in order to help Sebastian. But you know what they say, danger helps to reconcile… but also to bring out the truth. Alternative : My take on the Scriptorium incident.

Word Count: ~5.5k

Author's Note: Hi! It's been a while... I haven't had much time for myself lately, so I've put writing aside. But summer's here, so I took the opportunity to finish this draft that I've had for far too long. And what better way to come back than with some Ominis fluff? Enjoy!🌞

Warnings: Major spoilers for the "In the Shadow of the Study" quest

“I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say ‘I love you.’”

You felt a wrench in your heart as you read those few words written by Shakespeare. It was astonishing how a few drops of ink on the page of a book, a simple garland of lines and curls drawn in different directions, could trigger disproportionate reactions. Did everyone else feel the same way, or was it just that you were too sensitive?

Or perhaps it was simply that these damn love stories reminded you that you had not had the right to your own, that the boy to whom you had offered your heart had given it back to you completely mutilated?

Another wrench in your heart.

‘It’s simple and concise for a declaration of love… but at least she had the right to one, and one that had the merit of being clear and direct to boot’, you could not help thinking as you reread your book.

Time had passed, but you still felt it all. The disappointment, the humiliation, the resentment that came with the sensation of having had your feelings played with, the hatred you felt towards yourself for having let yourself be fooled, not to mention the torrents of tears you had shed. But the most devastating feeling was undoubtedly the despair you felt when you remembered that you had absolutely ruined everything with one of the most important people in your life.

Ominis… Sweet, caring, beautiful Ominis… Your best and closest friend. And to think that three little words of love spoken a couple of weeks ago – the same ones you had just read – had been enough to destroy the strong bond between you two.

Once again, it was astonishing how a series of letters, a succession of various sounds, could trigger such a disproportionate reaction and write over months of shared moments of laughter, of little attentions to one another.

“So!”

You abruptly lifted your head from your book – which you were only skimming through – after Sebastian abruptly dropped down next to you on the sofa in the common room.

“Still moping around?”

“Nah, I’m in tip-top form, can’t you see?” You deadpanned, your voice brimming with irony.

“My, my. No need for the attitude.” Sebastian smirked at your feisty character.

Sebastian had got used pretty quickly to this new dynamic. He would have breakfast with you because you were both late risers. During the day, he would sit next to either you or Ominis depending on the class, making sure to maintain an equity. For example, he would sit with you in Defence Against the Dark Arts because he loved duelling you, and he would sit with Ominis in Potions so that he could help him. As for the evening, he would have dinner with Ominis, and then come back to see you once the blond had gone to bed.

In fact, without even exchanging a single word, you and Ominis had concocted a shared custody schedule of your best friend.

Sebastian continued, entirely oblivious to your reveries, “Anyway, I’ve got something to take your mind off things!”

You could not hold back the sigh that left your lips, “Another brilliant idea of yours, I presume?”

“And your presumptions couldn’t be more right.”

Sebastian proudly explained his latest discovery, that Salazar Slytherin had a secret Scriptorium here at Hogwarts. He was evidently determined to explore it, insisting that it might hold answers as to how to heal Anne.

So far, it seemed to be just another of Sebastian’s plans…

“…The only problem is that only a Gaunt knows where the entrance is… So we have to ask Ominis.”

You raised a dubious eyebrow at him, “This… is your brilliant idea to take my mind off things?”

“Oh, come on! It’s important to me! And if you don’t want to do it for me, then do it for Anne! You can tolerate his presence for a few minutes, can’t you?”

As you looked down and pinched the bridge of your nose, another sigh escaped you. It was becoming an unfortunate habit when you were around Sebastian.

You sighed once more, this time in capitulation, “Okay… I’m in.”

When a beaming smile started to tug at the corners of his lips, you immediately interrupted him with a menacing finger pointed at his chest.

“But! You do the talking. The less I talk to him, the better I feel.”

“Deal.” He replied with a mysterious glint in his gaze. “Come on, let’s get this over with. I’ll lead you to him.”

“What? Now?” You exclaimed with wide eyes. It had to be said that you had no desire to go, and that postponing the fateful moment until as late as possible sounded fabulous at the moment.

“Of course, now! Do you really want to do this in broad daylight and get busted by the teachers?”

“When you put it like that… Let’s go.” Without wasting another second, you got up from the sofa with a newfound determination that you had not suspected, but which Sebastian always knew how to awaken using the right words.

After climbing the spiral staircase leading out of the common room, Sebastian led you – if not dragged you – through various corridors of the castle which you were not used to venturing into, and which were very rarely frequented.

If you were reluctantly following, the boy accompanying you was as cheerful as could be. You could tell by the way he moved with haste, his steps almost bouncing. He looked like a young child who had just had one of his whims indulged (and, in a way, he had).

Sebastian suddenly stopped in his tracks and nodded his head towards Ominis who was standing on the other end of the corridor, “Go on, go convince him.”

You turned sharply towards him, giving him a disapproving look, “You said you’d do the talking!”

“Exactly, the talking, which I already did, and it didn’t work. So now, you go do the convincing.”

“Sneaky bastard.” You muttered under your breath, sending him one last murderous glare.

As you approached the mysterious blond, you could not help but analyse him from head to toe. His silky hair was as well-brushed as ever, giving him his typical elegance. He was leaning against a wall, the features of his face impassive, making you wonder what could be going on in that impenetrable, but undoubtedly fascinating, mind of his. Merlin, everything about him was so adorable…

Fuck. You could not go on thinking like that. You had to move on from him, even if it was going to take a colossal effort.

But… that did not mean you had to stop watching him categorically. No, you could continue to observe banal things about him, like the way he suddenly took a deep breath before his shoulders relaxed, while you were only a few steps away from him.

Before you could announce your presence, Ominis called your name.

“U-Um yes, hi… How… How did you know it was me?” You stammered awkwardly, still mentally unprepared to start a conversation with Ominis.

“Your perfume. I’ve got used to it. I could recognise it in a million.” He declared easily, as if it were the most banal thing to say to someone you had recently rejected.

“Oh…”

Upon hearing your long and awkward silence, his serene and composed appearance was quickly overwritten with his own discomfort, “Listen, about last time… I wanted you to know that I sincerely apologise. I should not have avoided you for so long and–”

“Let’s not talk about this, alright?” You cut him short, physically pained just by the memory of your last conversation. “I just want to forget this ever happened… Besides, that’s not what I came to talk to you about.”

“I’m listening.”

It did not take long to convince him to reveal the location of Salazar Slytherin’s secret room, just a few minutes at the most. After all, you knew Ominis like the back of your hand, so it was child’s play to find the words he needed to hear.

But that didn’t mean you kept talking to him afterwards.

Once you entered the Scriptorium, you did not utter a single word. Your demeanour, which had been warm and understanding a few minutes earlier, was now nowhere to be seen. Seeing you acting so silent, cold and detached, Ominis must certainly have thought you were unrecognisable. If that was the case, he did not show it. On the contrary, he was always trying to get as close to you as possible, all the while scratching the back of his neck, or running a hand through his hair nervously, as if he wanted to start a conversation but did not dare. For some reason that eluded you, he also insisted that you stay behind him whenever you entered a new room.

The only thing you knew for sure was that he was desperate to reweave the invisible string between the two of you that had been the source of your formerly close friendship. But there was a problem… it was still too early and too painful for you to mend it on your end.

So you simply solved the various challenges you came across, and eventually silently handed the letters you found from Noctua to Ominis, so that he could read them for himself with his wand (admittedly, you wanted to avoid him, but you still had enough compassion left to give him what was left of his late aunt). Meanwhile, you let Sebastian do the talking to lighten the mood (he had kept his promise after all). Everything was going well so far.

That is… until you entered a new room, and the stone door slammed shut behind you three, producing a loud crash that bounced off the walls.

“Merlin!” You cried out in fear.

“Yeah, I think we’re locked in.” Sebastian agreed nonchalantly.

“No! Merlin!” You repeated in panic but, this time, pointing at something on the ground with a trembling finger.

Sebastian looked down, and quietly gasped before holding his breath. Never in a million years would you have imagined that you would stumble across bones, and therefore be confronted with the fact that someone had died right in this very spot.

It was only then that you realised that the three of you were potentially next in line, that there was a possibility you might never get out of this room. At this morbid realisation, you froze entirely. You were unable to move, to think, to speak. It was impossible for you to react. It was as if, in a panic, your body had already accepted its fate and was getting used to the fact that, soon, it would no longer respond to anything.

The silence in the room lasted a second too long, and Ominis too began to panic, “Well, what is it?”

“…A skeleton.” Sebastian said coldly, although the grimace on his face betrayed him and showed that he too was in turmoil. “And Noctua’s last journal entry. She mentions being trapped here – blocked by an Unforgivable Curse.”

Because of the shock, you had not even registered that you had the remains of Ominis’s aunt in front of you.

For fear that your words would be clumsy and worsen the despair Ominis must be feeling, you decided it was better to remain silent and act instead.

Slowly but surely, you approached him. While he had his back turned to you, you wrapped your arms around his slim figure and hugged him from behind. It was not a gesture you would normally have made towards Ominis after what had happened between you two. But in view of the gloomy circumstances in which you found yourselves, you had found the strength to put your resentment aside.

And it had to be said that, underneath your unaffected exterior, you still had a huge soft spot for this boy. Letting him go through this ordeal on his own would simply have broken your own heart, as well as his.

“Ominis…” His name rolled off your tongue by itself.

You felt him stiffen at your touch, and you took in a sharp breath. In your eyes, it was just another rejection. He obviously did not want you by his side, both literally and figuratively. So, in an attempt to protect your fragile little heart, which had mistakenly let its guard down, you decided to let Ominis go.

But he stopped you.

“No. Stay.” He said firmly, though his voice sounded obviously shaken.

He held you back against him by grabbing your hand. He squeezed it, then pressed it against his chest with his own, just above his heart. His heartbeat echoed in your palm. You could feel it speeding up, matching the rhythm of yours, as if they were connected.

In response, you surrendered to the embrace by resting your head between his shoulder blades. However, once again, your touch had the effect of a painful electric shock on him, and he abruptly pulled away from you. This was just another example of how exhausting Ominis could be. He had always acted like this with you: one moment he was giving you hope that he was returning your feelings, and the next he was pushing you away.

Ominis moved away from you to get closer to Sebastian, shouting in a distraught manner, “This – is where she died. This is where we’ll die. I shouldn’t have listened to either of you!”

“Ominis, I’m truly sorry about your aunt. But I know what to do. It’s going to be difficult.” Sebastian replied in a calm, composed voice that contrasted radically with that of his friend.

Sebastian subsequently proceeded to explain his plan, that the Cruciatus Curse – the incantation for which was written on the floor – was to be used to open the next room. Knowing that Ominis categorically refused to be associated with the Dark Arts, and that you were unwilling to learn any of the Unforgivable curses, Sebastian’s last remaining option was to cast Crucio on you.

Ominis stared at him, speechless and dumbfounded, as if he had just uttered the most grotesque of abominations, “Are you out of your mind? Do you even realise what you’re saying? You want to torture your friend? Our friend!”

Sebastian raised his voice to match Ominis’s, “And you, can you think for two seconds? It’s either I hurt her temporarily, or I let her die in that shithole! And us with her! There’s no need to think about it, it’s a no-brainer!”

“And I’m telling you it’s out of the question! I won’t let you hurt her!”

“So what, then? We wait for you to come up with some wonderful solution where no Unforgivable Curse is involved? You know very well there’s no such thing! It’s Salazar Slytherin we’re talking about, you should have expected it.”

Sebastian paused, making the atmosphere even heavier. His tone had subsided, but you knew all too well that it did not mean that his anger had subsided along with it. Quite the contrary.

“You know something? For a guy who likes to control everything to the point of dictating other people’s choices, I think you’re being awfully passive right now.”

Though unseeing, Ominis’s eyes glared at Sebastian, looking daggers at him, “What exactly are you insinuating?”

“That you’re a control freak who’s got no balls.”

“Boys, stop it.” You tried to calm things down as you heard their voices escalate and their words sharpen.

But Ominis ignored you blatantly, to the point where you wondered if he had even heard you, “Oh, really? Do you want me to tell you what I think of you?”

‘‘Just you try!”

“You’ve become a complete nutter ever since Anne has been–”

“ENOUGH!”

Your outburst seemed to be just what was needed to put an end to the two boys’ cockfight. They both turned brusquely towards you, their eyes wide open. It had to be said that seeing you angry was already a rare event, so to see you furious with them was even more staggering.

“Enough.” You repeated firmly, sweeping your eyes over the two boys to make sure you had fully regained control of the situation. “Sebastian, shut up. You’ve gone too far. And you, Ominis, I don’t need you making decisions for me. It’s not your job to defend me.”

You gave Ominis a black look. It was foolish because he could not see it, but something told you that, somehow, he could still feel it. Especially with the double entendre in your words, which implicitly referred to how Ominis had rejected you, as well as all the bitterness you retained from it. It was petty, but you could not help yourself.

You then turned to the other boy, looking determined, “Do it, Sebastian. I’m ready.”

The brown-haired boy nodded and positioned himself in front of you. He raised his wand in your direction and concentrated.

“Crucio!”

A bolt of red light came out from the tip of Sebastian’s wand, and hit you square in the chest, right in the heart.

“NO!” You heard Ominis’s voice protest.

Was it really Ominis though? Maybe you had just dreamt it. You could not be sure, for every single one of your senses was overstimulated by an electric shock running through your body, and causing you to collapse to the ground on all fours. It was brutal but manageable, you thought.

Little did you know, that was only the preamble. The worst was yet to come.

Rapidly, every muscle in your body contracted, including those in your chest and throat, preventing you from breathing. The spell slowly left you suffocating, while the pain took care of absorbing what little energy remained in your body. It was as if a billion needles were sticking into every inch of your skin, sinking deeper and deeper with the aim of piercing your soul and finishing you off.

It seemed to you like this hell lasted for an entire hour, even though you were confident Sebastian would never let you endure this kind of torture for more than a couple of seconds.

And then it stopped. Though the remnants of the curse remained.

You had suspected that such a cruel curse was not going to leave you alone so easily. Still, you were not prepared for how agonising it felt.

Your ears ringing. Your vision fogged with black spots. Your anarchic breathing. Your body crumpling to the ground, inert. And all of this because of the lack of oxygen. All your senses were rendered nonfunctional, leading you to believe that you would remain in this state for the rest of your life.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asked you with genuine concern in his voice, to which you nodded silently, your strength gradually returning.

Of course, Ominis was unable to see you, and began to get upset, thinking that you were still unresponding, “Of course not, Sebastian! Do you really think anyone can be alright after receiving the Cruciatus Curse?”

You wanted more than ever to say something to shut Ominis up. Or was it to reassure him? Probably a combination of both. Either way, the reality remained the same: you were still too weak to utter a single word. Your vocal cords were still paralysed from the agonised screams you had let out.

Thankfully, the door opening put an early stop to the boys’ bickering.

“It worked!” Sebastian exclaimed and immediately entered the room to explore it, leaving you alone with Ominis.

Ominis had no idea what to say to ease your pain. Unfortunately, he had already endured the Cruciatus Curse himself – and at the hands of his family to boot – so he knew how you might feel. However, no one had ever comforted him, so he had no idea what words would be likely to soothe you.

But if there was one thing his beloved Aunt Noctua used to tell him, it was that words come from the mind, and gestures from the heart. And it was always better to speak from the heart.

So Ominis let his heart guide him.

He knelt down beside you, and helped you to lie on your back, so that you would be more comfortable. But to your surprise, he did not stop there. He made you rest your head on his thighs, then stroked your hair with a hesitant hand. It was only after a moment that he spoke again.

“Can I be of any help?” He whispered, as if afraid of disturbing your repose while you were recuperating.

“H-Help–” Your weak voice got caught. You had to cough a couple of times before you could start again. “Help me stand up, will you?”

“You should take your time and lie down for a while. You just went through a lot–”

“I’ll survive.” You cut Ominis off abruptly, in a clearer but above all more irritated voice. You had had more than enough of his constant mood swings towards you, where one moment he could not be more doting on you, and the next he was acting as if he had never met you.

Ominis remained silent. You did not get the impression that he was hesitating over his next words, but rather that he was taking the time to digest how you had harshly refused his advice.

“…If you say so.”

“You know, I’m tougher than you think.” You kept the same cold, distant tone.

While he kept the same nonchalant and stoic tone, “I know.”

“Good.”

An awkward silence settled in, where you could do nothing but contemplate the ruins of your friendship. Where once stood a fortress of shared complicity and happiness, now remained only the vestiges of two acquaintances who were unwilling to rebuild what they had once known in the past.

To put an end to this heart-wrenching moment, you headed for the next room, without adding a word. Ominis followed suit, guided by his wand which pulsed red light at its tip.

“Guys? Care to lend me a hand, or do I have to explore this room all alone?” Sebastian called out without ceasing to rummage through Salazar Slytherin’s belongings.

You were about to answer when you suddenly saw Ominis stride resolutely in front of you. The frown on his face was unmistakable, as were his tense features.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve asking us for help! Not only did you just cast the Cruciatus Curse on your friend, but you didn’t even have the presence of mind to ask me if I was all right after finding my aunt’s bones!”

Ominis’s anger only seemed to have the effect of amusing Sebastian, “I thought it was stupid to ask someone if they were okay when it’s obvious they’re not.”

“It’s a question of common sense, Sebastian! If you had any, you would have realised that it would be best for you to lie low for a while and fend for yourself.”

“Excuse me for not being perfect. Not everyone can be a saint like you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sebastian.” Ominis visibly cringed upon hearing his friend’s words.

But it only made Sebastian’s smirk grow wider, “For once, you’re right. I’m being ridiculous. You’re far from being a saint, because if we’d listened to you, we’d be rotting in the previous room, and we’d be letting Anne die too, since you’ve also given up on the idea of curing her, just like everybody else.”

“Don’t start that again. You know perfectly well I haven’t given up on her, or else I wouldn’t be here having this nonsensical conversation with you.”

Sebastian’s arrogant smile fell, “Oh, stop it, Ominis! We both know you’re not here for Anne, but you’re too shitscared to admit it to yourself. Which goes to show, even when you’re already blind, you can still be blinded by fear.”

“SHUT UP!” Ominis roared in a deeply enraged way that you had never heard before, to the point where it made you recoil. “You’ve gone too far this time, Sebastian!”

Still frightened by the turn this argument was taking, you decided to intervene, “Guys, please don’t start fighting again. We’re all on edge and–”

“Come. We’re leaving.” Ominis announced sternly, holding out his hand for you to take.

“W-What?” You stammered, bewildered.

“You heard me. Are you coming, or not?”

You had never heard Ominis give you or anyone else an order in this way. Confused as to where this excess of chauvinism was coming from, your instinct advised you to go with the flow. You took his hand – not without shooting Sebastian an apologetic glance – and let the blond boy guide you out of the Scriptorium.

Except that once outside, he continued to drag you through the corridors, towards what you recognised as the direction of the common room. Holding your hand so tightly to the point where it was almost painful, he walked ahead of you at a run.

“Ominis, not so fast.” You requested, but your plea fell on deaf ears.

“How dare he speak to me like that, and insinuate things he has no knowledge of? After everything I’ve done for him! He truly deserves to be left alone; it would surely teach him a valuable lesson. Although… if he was left unsupervised, I’m afraid he’d do even more stupid things. I don’t know what more I can do to get him to listen to reason– What am I saying? It’s not my duty to keep an eye on him. He should just fend for himself for a change!” The blond Slytherin kept rambling, spiralling out of control.

At this stage, nothing and nobody could stop him from getting worked up over Sebastian. He was so consumed with his anger that he was completely oblivious to your distress at walking, your legs still suffering from the aftermath of the Cruciatus Curse. You found it hard to keep up with his rapid pace without tripping over your own feet.

“Ominis–”

What was bound to happen did happen. Your legs gave out, and you found yourself on the cold, hard stone floor, which was undoubtedly going to leave several bruises on your skin. A blush of embarrassment crept up on your cheeks. The only good thing was that the sound of your fall had startled Ominis, who stopped and turned towards you.

He came dangerously close to you, “Pardon me if this is improper, but I can’t let you go on like this.”

Next thing you knew, you were off the ground, lifted by Ominis’s strong and protective arms. He held you securely against his chest, and with a newfound reflex, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Your blush intensified, but this time it was because of your racing heart. You were speechless, taken aback, and mind going blank at the realisation that one of your dreams – to be in Ominis’s arms – was coming true, but not in the right circumstances.

“I’m sorry. I was too worked up to notice you were having trouble walking. I should have paid more attention to you.” He apologised as he resumed his walk.

Once in the common room, you thought he was going to put you down at the bottom of the stairs leading to the girls’ dormitories, so that you could go and rest, but instead he went and settled himself on one of the leather sofas opposite the fireplace, the exact same one where you had been sulking a couple of hours earlier. He sat down, cradling you in his lap, while his arms tightened around you a little more, as if he feared you might suddenly decide to break free of his embrace.

Assuming you were going to stay in that position for a while, you rested your head on his chest. You could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ribcage. Your best guess was that he was still on edge after what had happened with Sebastian.

Trying to soothe him, you murmured, “Don’t be too hard on Sebastian… He’s only ready to do anything to help his sister.”

Ominis let out a long, fed-up sigh, before replying, “And can’t you see that this is precisely the problem? He’ll do anything – even hurt you – and I can’t let him.”

“He hasn’t hurt me, Ominis.”

A frown was beginning to form between his brows again, “Oh really? Because receiving Crucio was a pleasure cruise for you?”

“He had no choice.”

“We always have a choice. This time it was Crucio, but what will it be next time? How do I know he won’t cross the point of no return?” Ominis raised his voice. He got so carried away with his anger that he failed to notice that he had started stroking your thigh with his thumb.

“He told me he would never hurt me.” You answered in an unwaveringly serene tone.

“And yet he already did. He’s a hypocrite.” He snarled. “Actions speak louder than words.”

You quirked an eyebrow, “Does this apply to you as well?”

“What do you mean?”

“Here you are, caressing my thighs after carrying me in your arms, and yet you still claim to see me as nothing more than a friend.”

Caught in the act, Ominis’s hand froze, as did the rest of his body; he even seemed to be holding his breath. He pressed his lips into a thin line, as if trying to seal them shut, for fear they would say something that would put his life on the line.

“Come on, Ominis. Now’s the time to tell me what you really think, don’t you think?” You said, giving him the last little push he needed to confess everything.

“…All right. I lied. Of course I have feelings for you… How could I not? You’re so considerate and graceful… But those feelings come with fear. Fear that you’ll be disappointed in me, that you’ll realise I’m nowhere near good enough for you, that you could find a thousand men better than me. But what I’m most afraid of is being with you. Because believe me, darling, if one day I have the honour of tasting your lips and your caresses, I know that I’ll never be able to live without you ever again.”

For the umpteenth time that evening, Ominis blew your mind in ways you had never imagined. And the worst part – or rather the best part, given the circumstances – was that he had no intention of stopping there. He had so many feelings in his heart that begged to be verbalised and brought to light.

“You made me want to get up in the morning again, if only to hear your voice for a split second. Before I realised it, you hadn’t just become more than a friend, you’d become my reason to live.”

With infinite delicacy, Ominis took your dainty hand in his, feeling the warmth of your skin against his. Slowly, as if to prolong this magical moment, he brought your hand to his lips and placed a light kiss on it, full of tenderness and respect.

“You are both my greatest desire and my greatest fear. Don’t you see how illogical this is? You’ve made me lose control, and I happily let you. I hope this is proof enough of how enamoured I am of you.”

Although you had regained your composure and your vocabulary, you still kept quiet, but this time it was on purpose. You had a very specific idea in the back of your mind.

“I’m begging you, love, say something.” Ominis’s trembling voice implored.

You replied, without the slightest hint of what you were thinking in your tone, “Actions speak louder than words, Ominis. Your words, not mine.”

Ominis did not need to be told twice, although he did take his time to make sure he did things the right way. His hand, which was still resting on your thigh, was trembling from the torrent of emotions running through him. With his fingertips, that same hand skimmed the contours of your body, and moved up to cup your cheek, sending shivers down your spine at the same time. You closed your eyes to savour the contact and understand a little better what the boy in front of you was feeling.

With his thumb, he sought out your lips, before tracing them to fully appreciate their voluptuousness. He felt the smile that had just appeared on your lips. Encouraged by this sign, Ominis leant towards you, his heart beating wildly. As he drew closer, your breaths mingled.

At last, your lips met, timidly at first, then with a passion that had been held back for far too long. This kiss was a moment suspended in time. The world seemed to stop around you, giving way to the magic of that perfect moment.

And suddenly, all the Shakespearean love stories you had ever read seemed derisory. Mere words of love were not enough, were no longer enough, now that you had tasted the unctuous proof of love from the handsome, touching blond boy who electrified your skin with the slightest touch.

Who needed a trite, dull ‘I love you’, when you had the loving touch of Ominis?

[myokk]

🫶🫶🫶

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

Been thinking about this for a while, but how about a scenario where reader is a muggle-born from a wealthy family who care much about their public perception. They ask her to bring Sebastian over for dinner because they wanted to meet the guy she keeps mentioning in her letters (she may not say it outright but they get the idea they’re dating) only to find out that he is in fact, poor, an orphan, and potentially not to the gentlemanly standard they expected for their daughter. (he tried this time to act good. He swears) How this ends can go one of many ways.

I don’t know if this is too complicated or fully formed as an idea but I think the drama could be fun

Enough | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK, ANON. I've never written anything quite like this but AH the drama was chef's kiss! I hope you love it <3

Words: ~10,400

Tags: Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Drama, Fluff, Romance

The morning started the way most mornings did—early. The Great Hall was awash with the usual clatter of silverware and the soft hum of conversation, students huddling over their breakfasts, discussing the latest Quidditch scores, impending exams, or whatever gossip had surfaced overnight. You had been sipping on tea, a half-buttered slice of toast on your plate as you flipped absentmindedly through a letter from home, the familiar script of your mother’s handwriting blurring before your eyes.

That is, until you hit the second paragraph.

You blinked. Once. Twice. And then you reread it, hoping you had misunderstood.

"We were intrigued by this young man you’ve been spending time with, darling. You’ve mentioned him in nearly every letter for months now, and it sounds like he’s been quite an influence on you. Your father and I agree it’s high time we meet him properly—this Sebastian fellow. What a charming name! Please invite him to dinner over Easter holiday. We’re so looking forward to putting a face to the name and getting to know the young man you’re so fond of."

Your heart stopped. Your stomach lurched.

Sebastian.

You’d written about him often, sure. He was your best friend, wasn’t he? Or, at least, that’s what you told yourself to avoid admitting the truth. And yes, you’d spoken of him in glowing terms—how could you not? But your parents had interpreted it all so horribly wrong.

Courting? Meeting him? Easter dinner?

The idea of parading Sebastian in front of your parents, of them scrutinizing him, made your hands tremble. Not because you thought poorly of him—Merlin, no. You thought the world of him, had thought the world of him since the fifth year. It was your parents. Their expectations. Their... standards.

You could hear their voices already: "He doesn’t come from a respectable family. What are his prospects? What on earth does he think he could offer you?"

The clatter of a fork on the floor startled you back to the present. You hastily folded the letter and shoved it into your bag, breathing deeply as you tried to collect yourself. Panic simmered just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over.

You glanced across the Hall to the Slytherin table, where Sebastian sat, as he often did, leaning back with an infuriating sort of confidence that only he could pull off. He was laughing at something Garreth Weasley said, his grin sharp, his dark hair a mess that somehow still suited him perfectly. You felt your chest tighten, both with fondness and sheer, unbridled terror.

You were in love with him, of course, but that hardly mattered now. You and Sebastian weren’t courting. You weren’t even close to broaching that topic. He had no idea how you felt, and you certainly weren’t about to admit it under these circumstances.

And yet, the prospect of defying your parents—ignoring their request—felt equally impossible. Their disapproval carried a weight you’d been trying to outrun your entire life, and the idea of disappointing them made your stomach churn.

You were trapped. Caught between an impossible expectation and a boy who didn’t even know he held your heart. And now, you had to somehow tell him about this invitation—a dinner he’d have no real reason to accept.

You made your way over to the Slytherin table, your palms sweaty as you clenched the strap of your bag. Sebastian caught sight of you before you even reached him, his grin widening as he straightened in his seat. His brown eyes narrowed on you—your nerves must have been written all over your face.

“What’s got you looking like that?” he asked, scooting over to make room for you as if he expected you to sit. He took a bite of his toast, completely at ease, while you hovered awkwardly beside him.

“I need to talk to you,” you blurted, your voice a little too high-pitched for your liking. “Alone.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but didn’t push. “Alright.” He stood, brushing crumbs from his hands, and slung his bag over one shoulder before nodding toward the doors. "Ladies first."

The two of you walked out of the Great Hall in silence, the weight of your impending confession settling heavily in your chest. Sebastian matched your pace, his usual confidence softened by curiosity as he shot occasional glances your way.

Once you reached the empty corridor just outside, you stopped, turning to face him. He leaned casually against the stone wall, his arms crossed, waiting for you to speak.

“Well?” he prompted, his tone light. “What’s this about?"

You inhaled sharply, clutching the strap of your bag as if it might ground you. “I got a letter from my parents this morning.”

“Ah,” he said knowingly, his smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Let me guess—another lecture about how you’re tarnishing the family name by being at Hogwarts instead of some fancy Muggle school?”

You frowned. “No, not this time. This is... different.”

That seemed to catch his attention. His smirk faded, replaced by a slight furrow of concern. “Alright, what’s it this time?”

You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. How were you supposed to explain this? It felt ridiculous, mortifying, and yet you couldn’t avoid it. You had to tell him.

“They...” You exhaled shakily. “They want to meet you.”

Sebastian blinked. “Me?”

“Yes.” You looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “They think we’re... courting.”

For a moment, there was only silence. You risked a glance at him and found him staring at you, his mouth slightly open as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard you correctly.

“They what?” he finally managed, his voice rising just slightly.

“They think we’re courting!” you repeated, your face burning. “I didn’t say we were! I just... I mentioned you in my letters—your name might’ve come up a few times—and apparently, they got the wrong idea.”

Sebastian stared at you for another second before his lips twitched. Then, to your horror, he burst out laughing.

“This isn’t funny!” you hissed, glaring at him. “Sebastian, they’ve invited you to dinner over Easter holiday. They want to meet you, and they’re going to expect you to—” You cut yourself off, your heart pounding as you tried to gather your thoughts. “They’ll expect you to act a certain way, to be someone you’re not.”

“Why? Would they think I’m not up to snuff for their perfect daughter?” he asked, his grin still infuriatingly wide. “You make me sound like some street rat.”

“Because to them, you might as well be!” you snapped, then immediately regretted your words. “I didn’t mean it like that,” you said quickly, your voice softening. “It’s just... they’re very particular. They have high standards, and they’ll be looking for reasons to disapprove of you.”

Sebastian’s grin faltered, his expression hardening just a fraction. “So, what? You don’t want me to go?”

“It's not that," you insisted, shaking your head. "I just… I don’t want to put you in that position.

He studied you for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. Then, to your surprise, he shrugged. “Alright.”

Your eyes widened. “Alright what?”

“I’ll go,” he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Sebastian, you don’t understand,” you said desperately. “This isn’t some casual dinner. They’ll judge everything about you—your clothes, your manners, your background. And if they don’t think you’re good enough—”

“They’ll what? Disown you?” He smirked, though his tone was softer than usual. “Come on, I’ve faced cursed tombs and Dark wizards. I think I can handle a couple of uptight Muggles.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding. He wasn’t taking this seriously at all—or maybe he was, in his own strange way.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” you said weakly.

“Well, lucky for you, I do,” he said, his confidence unwavering. “Tell your parents I’ll be there. And don’t worry—I’ll even wear my best shirt.”

You sighed, and Sebastian opened his mouth to say something else, probably another snarky remark, but you grabbed his wrist and tugged him along before he could. “Come on. We're going to the library."

He resisted slightly, his boots scuffing against the stone floor as he dragged his feet. “The library? Now? I wasn’t even finished with breakfast!”

“You’ll survive,” you shot back, glancing over your shoulder to see him smirking again.

“I don’t know,” he drawled, letting you lead him anyway. “I was in the middle of a very important debate with Garreth about whether treacle tart or cauldron cakes are the superior dessert.”

You huffed, ignoring him as you hurried down the stairs, taking two at a time. The sooner you found Ominis, the sooner you could start sorting out the absolute mess that was your life.

“Why the library?” Sebastian asked after a moment, though he didn’t sound all that curious. He was just enjoying making you squirm. “If this is about your parents, shouldn’t you be writing them a letter to tell them how incredibly lucky they are to have me gracing their dinner table?”

You ignored that, your face burning. “We need Ominis.”

“Of course we do,” Sebastian said dryly. “Can’t have a proper crisis without Ominis.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed open the library doors. The room was mostly empty this early in the morning, the usual quiet amplified by the faint rustle of pages turning in the far corner. Ominis was easy to spot—or rather, his familiar posture was. He was seated at his usual table near the enchanted globe, his wand resting lightly in his hand as he read.

“Ominis,” you called softly, leading Sebastian toward him. “We need your help.”

The blonde lifted his head at the sound of your voice, his expression calm but curious. “And good morning to you, too,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “What sort of trouble are we in this time?”

Sebastian dropped into the chair across from him, looking far too relaxed for someone about to be dragged into a week of preparations. “Her parents think we’re courting,” he said bluntly, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

Ominis’ brow furrowed. “They what?”

“They think we’re courting,” you repeated, sitting beside him and burying your face in your hands. “And they’ve invited him to dinner to... meet him.”

Ominis turned his attention to Sebastian, who looked far too relaxed given the situation. “And you agreed to this? Willingly?”

Sebastian shrugged, smirking. “What can I say? I like a challenge.”

“And here I thought I’d be spending my week in peace,” Ominis muttered. “Fine. I’ll help you prepare. But don’t expect miracles.”

As expected, the days that followed were, quite frankly, exhausting. Between classes, Quidditch practice, and your usual routines, you and Ominis dedicated every spare moment to preparing Sebastian for the upcoming dinner.

It started with the basics. Ominis took the lead on etiquette lessons, drilling Sebastian on everything from proper table manners to the art of polite conversation. He even went as far as to mimic the kind of snide remarks Sebastian might encounter, forcing him to practice responding without sarcasm—a monumental task, to say the least.

“Let’s try again,” Ominis said one evening in the Undercroft, his tone patient but firm. “I’ll be her father, and you’ll be... well, you. He asks, ‘What are your intentions with my daughter?’ Go.”

Sebastian groaned, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair. “We’ve done this a hundred times, Ominis.”

“And we’ll do it a hundred more if that’s what it takes,” Ominis replied sharply, tapping his wand against his palm. “Now, try again.”

Meanwhile, you took charge of teaching him about Muggle traditions and customs, including the subtle differences he might not have noticed otherwise. You explained everything from the layout of a formal dinner to the kind of small talk he could expect. It was tedious work, but Sebastian humored you, though he often did so with a grin that suggested he found the whole ordeal amusing.

The real challenge came when Ominis insisted on taking Sebastian to Hogsmeade to purchase a proper suit.

“This is ridiculous,” Sebastian grumbled as Ominis guided him through racks of tailored jackets and waistcoats. “I already have clothes.”

“Your duelling robes aren’t enough,” Ominis replied, his tone brooking no argument. “You need to look the part. Now hold still.”

You stood nearby, hiding a smile as Ominis measured Sebastian with his wand, his expression the epitome of focus. Despite Sebastian’s complaints, the results were worth it. When he stepped out of the fitting room in a sleek black suit with a crisp white shirt, you were momentarily stunned.

“Well?” he asked, spreading his arms and spinning once for effect. “Do I pass inspection?”

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks. “You’ll do.”

Ominis smirked knowingly. “You look presentable. Let’s hope your behavior matches.”

By the end of the week, Sebastian had begrudgingly mastered the basics. He could navigate a formal dinner, hold polite conversation, and even manage a few compliments without sounding insincere. Whether or not it would be enough to win over your parents remained to be seen, but for now, it was the best you could hope for.

On the evening of the dinner, you stood in your dormitory, staring at your reflection in the mirror with growing unease. Your usual confidence felt oddly absent as you adjusted the neckline of your dress; a light blue gown from Gladrags, soft and elegant, flowing like water down to your ankles, the color reminiscent of a clear spring sky.

Taking a deep breath, you smoothed your hands down the front of your skirt, grabbed your shawl, and headed out. The castle felt oddly quiet as you made your way to the appointed meeting place near the Floo. 5:30 sharp. You were certain you’d be the first to arrive—Sebastian had a habit of being fashionably late, after all—but as you turned the corner, you stopped short.

He was already there.

He stood near the fireplace, his hands stuffed into his pockets, his dark hair neatly combed for once. He wore the suit Ominis had picked out for him—black with a crisp white shirt—and his tie, much to your surprise, was light blue, perfectly matching your gown. The sight of it made your breath hitch.

For a moment, you just stared, taking in the way the tailored jacket fit him, the sharp cut of his shoulders, the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot. He looked... different. Polished. But there was still something so unmistakably Sebastian about him, from the way his brow furrowed slightly in thought to the nervous energy in his movements.

...Nervous?

Sebastian Sallow, the boy who faced cursed tombs and duels with a smirk, who thrived in chaos and relished a challenge, was pacing slightly as he waited for you. His hands fidgeted with the edge of his jacket, and he glanced at the clock above the fireplace every few seconds.

The sight made your chest ache and your heart flutter all at once.

“You were early,” you said softly, stepping closer.

He turned at the sound of your voice, his brown eyes widening slightly as he took you in. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his gaze sweeping over your gown, your carefully chosen jewelry, and finally settling on your face.

“And you're right on time” he said finally, his voice quieter than usual. He cleared his throat, straightening his posture. “You look—” He stopped, his words catching. Then he smiled, the kind of smile that wasn’t teasing or cocky but genuine. “You look beautiful.”

You felt warmth rise to your cheeks, and you clasped your hands together to keep from fidgeting. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

He grinned at that, some of his usual confidence returning. “Well, if I’m going to face the gauntlet, I might as well dress the part.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, the soft crackle of the torches filling the silence. There was a weight to the air between you, a sense of anticipation that neither of you seemed quite willing to break.

Finally, Sebastian stepped closer, offering his arm. “Shall we?”

You hesitated for only a second before slipping your hand into the crook of his elbow. His warmth was steady beneath your fingertips, grounding you as the nerves in your chest threatened to bubble over.

“Let’s get this over with,” you said with a weak smile.

Sebastian smirked, though the slight tightness in his jaw told you he wasn’t as calm as he was pretending to be. “Don’t worry,” he said as he reached for the Floo powder. “I’ve got this.”

He grabbed an adequate amount, and with one last glance your way, Sebastian guided you both into the Floo.

The swirling green flames spat you out onto the gravel drive of your family’s manor, the grand estate standing tall against the backdrop of the darkening sky. The familiar sight made your stomach churn with nerves.

Sebastian let out a low whistle, glancing up at the imposing structure. “So, this is home, huh? Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, half-defensive, half-curious.

He shrugged, his hands slipping casually into his pockets. “It suits you. Polished. Impressive. Maybe a little intimidating.”

You snorted softly. “Intimidating, really?”

“Absolutely,” he said with a grin. “You should see yourself when you’re angry."

You rolled your eyes, but his playful banter did little to ease your nerves. The thought of what waited inside—your parents, their judgment, the impossible expectations—made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

Sebastian must have noticed, because his grin softened, and he stepped closer, his voice low. “Hey. You’ve got nothing to worry about. I’ll behave. Promise.”

You gave him a weak smile, wishing you could believe him. “You’ll need to do more than behave.”

“Then I’ll dazzle them,” he said with a wink, though the tightness in his jaw betrayed his own unease. “Shall we?”

For a moment, you hesitated, your heart pounding as you stared up at the towering manor. Then you took a deep breath, slipped your hand into the crook of his arm, and nodded. “Let’s go.”

Together, you climbed the stone steps to the front door, the sound of your heels echoing in the stillness. Sebastian reached for the brass knocker but paused, glancing at you one last time. “Ready?”

No. Not even close. But you nodded anyway.

The knocker fell with a heavy thud, and within seconds, the door swung open. A butler stood in the doorway, his expression carefully neutral as he looked the two of you over. “Welcome home, Miss,” he said with a slight bow before stepping aside. “Your parents are expecting you in the drawing room.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, stepping inside with Sebastian at your side.

The manor was just as you remembered it—pristine and impossibly grand, every detail designed to impress. The faint hum of conversation drifted from the drawing room, mingling with the crackle of a fire. Your nerves tightened with each step, but Sebastian walked confidently beside you, his arm steady under your hand.

As you approached the drawing room door, your mother’s voice carried through, clear and sharp as she spoke to your father. “Do try to make a good impression, darling.”

You froze for a split second, glancing at Sebastian. He caught your eye, offering a small smile that was more reassuring than cocky this time.

With one last breath, you stepped into the room, the weight of the evening settling firmly on your shoulders.

This was it.

The drawing room was as stately as ever, bathed in the warm glow of a crystal chandelier and the flicker of firelight dancing across polished wood paneling. Your parents sat on the velvet settee near the hearth, the picture of poise and elegance. Your mother, ever the perfectionist, smoothed invisible creases from her gown as she glanced up. Your father, a tall man with a commanding presence, stood as you entered, his sharp eyes taking in the scene with quiet scrutiny.

“Darling,” your mother greeted, her tone light but laced with expectation. She rose gracefully, her gaze flickering to Sebastian. “And this must be Mr. Sallow.”

Sebastian straightened, his easy confidence slipping into something more formal as he stepped forward. He bowed his head slightly, his movements smooth and deliberate. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” he said, his voice steady and polite. "And please, call me Sebastian."

Your mother’s lips curved into a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “The pleasure is ours,” she said, her tone cool but courteous. “Do come in and sit.”

Sebastian glanced at you, waiting for you to move first. You gave him a slight nod, releasing his arm as you both crossed the room. The chairs arranged across from your parents suddenly felt much too far apart, but Sebastian didn’t hesitate. He sat with perfect posture, his hands resting loosely on his knees, his expression calm.

You took the seat beside him, wishing you could shrink into it. Your mother’s sharp gaze swept over Sebastian, taking in every detail of his appearance—his perfectly tailored suit, his neatly combed hair, the faintest hint of tension in his jaw.

She folded her hands in her lap, her poised smile never faltering. "So, Sebastian," she began, her tone deceptively pleasant. "Tell us. How did the two of you meet?"

Sebastian turned to you with an easy smile. "We met during Defense Against the Dark Arts," he said. "My fifth year at Hogwarts—her first. Professor Hecat paired us for a duel."

Your father arched a brow. "A duel?"

Sebastian’s smirk twitched at the corner of his lips. "Yes, sir. I was confident I’d win."

"And?" your mother prompted, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

Sebastian glanced at you, and though his expression was perfectly neutral, you caught the amusement dancing behind his eyes. "I lost," he admitted, the words coming smoothly, without a hint of shame. "Rather spectacularly, if I’m being honest."

Your mother’s lips pressed together, but she nodded as if accepting the explanation. "I see. And tell me, Sebastian, what do you do in your spare time?"

Sebastian exhaled lightly, as if considering his words carefully. "I enjoy dueling. I still train regularly—it keeps me sharp. I also read quite a bit, mostly historical accounts of magical warfare, defensive strategy, things of that nature."

"Interesting." Your mother tilted her head. “And tell us, Sebastian, where is your family from?”

You adjusted in your seat, hands smoothing over your dress in a futile attempt to steady yourself. This was exactly what you had expected—no lighthearted conversation, no genuine warmth, just the relentless, calculated prodding of your parents. Every question, though cloaked in civility, was a test. A careful dissection. They weren’t getting to know Sebastian; they were measuring him, scrutinizing every word, every movement, silently deciding whether he was worthy of the world they had so meticulously crafted.

Sebastian, to his credit, didn’t so much as flinch. His expression remained composed, though you didn’t miss the way his fingers curled slightly against his knee before relaxing again.

“I grew up in the Scottish Highlands, not far from Iverness,” he said smoothly. “My family lived there for generations.”

Your father leaned forward slightly, his expression still unreadable. “And what do your parents do?”

The air grew heavier. This was one question you’d been dreading, the one that no amount of preparation could soften. You risked a glance at Sebastian, your heart hammering in your chest.

“They were Professors, however my parents passed away when I was young,” Sebastian said, his voice steady. “It’s just my sister and I now."

There was a brief pause, the kind that stretched just long enough to be uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” your mother said at last, though the words felt hollow.

Sebastian inclined his head. “Thank you, ma’am.”

He was holding his own, but this wasn’t a conversation—it was an examination. And it was only going to get worse.

You could feel Sebastian’s gaze flick toward you, just for a moment, as if checking in. Making sure you were okay.

You weren’t.

Your father continued on, clearly not ready to let the conversation drift into safer waters. “And your sister?” he asked, his tone polite but probing. “What does she do?”

“Anne’s focus has been on her health in recent years,” Sebastian said carefully. “She’s unwell.”

The words hung in the air for a beat too long, the weight of them sinking into the polished wood and embroidered silk of the drawing room. You knew your parents well enough to recognize the flicker of calculation behind your father’s eyes, the way your mother’s fingers twitched as she reached for her teacup, as if trying to mask the direction of her thoughts.

No parents. An ill sister. No meaningful connections to high society.

To them, it meant one thing: nothing to offer.

You clenched your hands in your lap, nails pressing into your palms as you forced yourself to keep your expression neutral. It was maddening, sitting here while they dissected him like this, peeling him apart with careful, polite words, as they decided whether he was worth your time. As if he hadn’t already proven himself a hundred times over to you.

“Sebastian,” your mother said, breaking the brief silence, “our daughter speaks very highly of you. She’s mentioned your... intelligence and resourcefulness.”

Sebastian turned his gaze to your mother, his expression unreadable. He didn’t preen under the supposed compliment, nor did he flinch at the underlying weight of her words. Instead, he simply waited, letting her continue, as if he knew there was more to it.

Your mother took a delicate sip of her tea, the fine china barely making a sound as she set it back on the saucer. “I do hope she’s not exaggerating.”

Sebastian smiled—just a flicker of one, polite but unreadable. “I suppose that depends on what she’s said," he glanced at you briefly before continuing. “But if I’ve earned even half the praise she’s given me, I’d say I’m doing quite well.”

Your mother tilted her head, her smile tightening. “And what are your ambitions, Mr. Sallow? What do you hope to achieve?”

The question made your stomach tighten. They weren’t interested in him as a person. They were interested in whether he was worth investing in.

Sebastian, however, didn’t so much as blink. He exhaled softly, as if considering his words, then tilted his head slightly.

"I’ve always been drawn to subjects that require critical thinking—Defense Against the Dark Arts, for example," he said, his voice calm but deliberate. "My main considerations have been Cursebreaking or perhaps training to become an Auror."

Your father cleared his throat, leaning forward slightly in his chair. “Cursebreaking and… Auror?” His tone was polite but clipped, as though he was carefully parsing the unfamiliar terms. "What would such professions look like?"

“Yes, sir,” Sebastian replied carefully. “Cursebreaking involves uncovering and disarming magical traps, often tied to ancient artifacts or ruins. Akin to... archeology. And Aurors are... the magical equivalent of a detective, sir."

Your mother’s lips pressed into a thin line, her hands folding neatly in her lap. “Quite dangerous,” she said, her tone clipped as her sharp gaze flicked toward you for a moment before returning to Sebastian. “Do you find yourself drawn to danger, Mr. Sallow?”

“Not for its own sake, no,” he replied smoothly.

His response almost had you laughing—because if there was one thing Sebastian Sallow was drawn to, it was danger. You pressed your lips together tightly, trying to stifle the smile threatening to break through, but it was too late. Your amusement must have flickered across your face because your mother’s sharp eyes immediately snapped to you.

“And what, may I ask, is so amusing, darling?” she said, her tone as smooth as silk but edged with curiosity. Her gaze pinned you to your seat like a hawk spotting prey, and you froze, your mind scrambling for an excuse.

Sebastian’s gaze flicked to you, and for a brief second, you caught the faintest glimmer of a amusement in his eyes. But before you could respond, a knock at the drawing room door broke the tension.

The butler stepped inside, bowing slightly. “Dinner is served, everyone.”

Relief flooded through you so quickly you nearly sagged in your chair. Your mother nodded gracefully, rising from her seat with all the elegance of a queen. “Shall we?” she said, gesturing toward the dining room.

You wasted no time in standing, brushing down your dress as you avoided your mother’s lingering gaze. Sebastian rose smoothly beside you, his hand brushing against yours briefly as he offered his arm again. You hesitated for only a moment before taking it, his steady warmth grounding you as you followed your parents out of the room.

As you walked, you leaned in slightly, keeping your voice low. "It's unnerving how talented you are at lying."

Sebastian glanced at you, his expression unreadable but his lips twitching into the faintest smirk. “Who says I lied?"

You snorted softly. "You’d dive headfirst into a cursed tomb if someone dared you.”

He chuckled under his breath, his voice barely audible as he replied, “Not if it’s a boring tomb.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a laugh as the two of you entered the dining room. It was grand, of course—your family didn’t do anything halfway. The long table was set with gleaming silverware and crystal glasses, a centerpiece of fresh flowers and candles casting a soft glow over the room.

Your father took his seat at the head of the table, your mother settling in beside him with a practiced grace. You and Sebastian were directed to the seats opposite them, the distance between you making the table feel even more intimidating.

The first course—a delicate arrangement of roasted quail and glazed vegetables—was placed before you, the table settling into a brief silence as your parents inspected the presentation with the same scrutiny they applied to everything else. You glanced at Sebastian, your heart sinking slightly as you noticed the slightest flicker of uncertainty in his movements.

He picked up a fork, pausing for just a moment too long as he seemed to second-guess whether it was the correct one. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. He began to cut into the dish with the smaller dessert fork, and while it wasn’t glaringly obvious, it was enough to catch your mother’s sharp eyes.

“Not quite that one, Sebastian,” she said, her voice saccharine sweet but laced with condescension. “The proper fork for the main course is the one on your left.”

Sebastian froze for the briefest moment before smoothly setting the fork down and picking up the correct one. “Thank you for the clarification,” he said evenly.

Your mother smiled thinly, her eyes gleaming with something that made your stomach turn. “It can be so difficult to keep track of these things when one isn’t accustomed to formal settings.”

You stiffened, your grip on your own fork tightening as a surge of indignation rose in your chest. You wanted to say something, to defend him, but before you could, Sebastian beat you to it.

“Quite right,” he said, his tone still calm but now carrying a subtle edge. “It’s not a habit I’ve had the opportunity to form. I suppose that’s what makes learning new things so valuable.”

Your mother’s lips twitched, as though she couldn’t decide whether to be irritated or impressed by his response. “Indeed,” she said finally, her tone cool.

The meal carried on in uneasy silence, each bite weighed down by the lingering tension that clung to the air like a storm waiting to break. The clink of silverware against porcelain was the only sound, punctuating the unspoken challenge that had passed between Sebastian and your parents. Though the conversation had momentarily stalled, the scrutiny had not. It lingered, sharp and assessing, filling every quiet second with a pressure that made it harder to swallow.

Sebastian remained composed, his expression carefully neutral, but you could feel the way his fingers occasionally curled around the stem of his glass, the subtle flick of his gaze toward you—a silent check-in, a quiet assurance.

But it wasn’t him they turned their focus to next.

“Darling,” your mother began, setting down her fork with an air of practiced grace, “how are your studies progressing this term? I trust you’re excelling?”

You swallowed, already feeling the familiar prickle of anxiety creeping up your spine. “They’re going well, Mother,” you said carefully. “I’ve been—”

“Well?” she interrupted, arching a perfectly sculpted brow. “Is that the best you can say? I sent a letter to Professor Garlick who indicated to me that you've been struggling in Herbology. I’m sure you could apply yourself more diligently.”

You clenched your jaw, your grip tightening on your knife. “It’s not my strongest subject, but I’m doing my best.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, a clear sign that your answer wasn’t satisfactory. “I see,” she said coolly. “And what about that... brutish sport you insist on playing? What’s it called again? Quilt... ditch?”

“Quidditch,” you corrected quietly.

“Yes, that,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I fail to see how spending your time chasing after a ball does anything to further your education.”

Your father chimed in, his tone gruff but no less pointed. “I suppose it’s her way of rebelling.”

You focused intently on cutting your food, willing yourself to remain calm. This wasn’t new; you’d endured countless dinners like this before. But tonight, with Sebastian sitting beside you, the sting of their words felt sharper.

Sebastian, to his credit, didn’t outwardly react at all. You were impressed by his restraint. His eyes stayed fixed on his plate, though you knew him well enough to see the occasional twitch of his jaw, the subtle shift in his posture.

Your mother’s next comment was the tipping point.

“And another thing, darling,” your mother said, her tone saccharine and laced with something sharp. “I couldn’t help but notice you’ve put on a bit of weight since the summer. I do hope you haven’t been neglecting your studies in favor of… indulgences.”

The words sliced through the air like a knife, precise and deliberate, meant to wound in a way that could be brushed off as concern.

Your stomach twisted, heat creeping up your neck as every childhood insecurity came rushing back all at once. You knew better than to react—she wanted a reaction—but the sting of it lodged deep in your chest anyway.

You swallowed, unsure if you even wanted to look at Sebastian, afraid of what you might see—awkwardness, pity, maybe even silent agreement.

But when you did glance at him, what you found wasn’t hesitation.

It was fury.

Not loud, not dramatic, but cold—sharp enough to cut.

Sebastian’s hand had stilled around his fork, his knuckles just barely white with the force of his grip. His jaw was tight, his brown eyes dark with something unreadable as he stared at your mother.

When he finally set his fork down, it was deliberate, the soft clink against the plate somehow louder than any shouting could have been.

“With all due respect, ma’am,” he said, his voice deceptively calm, "your daughter is one of the most capable, brilliant, and resilient people I have ever known. And if she carries any unnecessary weight, it’s the burden of expectations placed on her by others.”

The room fell silent, your parents frozen mid-bite as they turned to look at him. You felt your heart leap into your throat, a mix of shock and gratitude and anxiety rendering you momentarily speechless.

“I understand you have high standards,” Sebastian continued, his tone polite but firm, “but I can assure you that whatever expectations you’ve set, she’s already surpassed them.”

Your mother’s expression barely flickered, but you knew her well enough to sense the barely concealed offense in the stiffening of her posture. “How very passionate of you, Mr. Sallow,” she said, setting down her fork with quiet precision. “I suppose you believe you know her better than her own family does?”

Sebastian didn’t so much as blink. “I believe I see her clearly,” he said. “Which is more than I can say for most.”

It was a direct hit. You could see it in the way your mother’s shoulders tensed, in the way your father exhaled slowly, setting his silverware down with a pointed clink.

Your father leaned back, fixing Sebastian with a cold, assessing look. “It is quite bold to assume you have any right to comment on such personal matter," your father said, his tone sharp, “Perhaps you’d care to elaborate further on what exactly your role is in her life?”

The shift in their focus was immediate and ruthless, their pointed gazes turning back to Sebastian like predators zeroing in on prey.

"I’m simply someone who sees her for who she is, not who she’s expected to be.” Sebastian replied, a flicker of something dangerously close to amusement crossing his face. “And I have to say, sir, that seems to be a rare thing in this house.”

The air turned brittle, thick with unspoken tension.

Your father’s fingers tapped once against the table, his expression cool but unreadable. Your mother inhaled slowly, exhaling through her nose as she reached for her wine glass, taking a measured sip.

You braced yourself.

"How very poetic," your father finally said, tone devoid of any real warmth. “And yet, poetry has never paid the bills, nor built anything of lasting worth."

Sebastian’s expression remained calm, though you could see the tension building in his jaw.

“With all due respect, sir,” he said smoothly, “neither has cruelty.”

Your mother’s grip on her wine glass tightened ever so slightly. Your father’s expression remained impassive, but the temperature in the room dropped like a sudden frost. The moment stretched taut, every unspoken rule of decorum cracking under the weight of Sebastian’s words.

“Clever,” your father mused, his tone devoid of amusement. “But clever words don’t change the reality of things, Sebastian. You may think you understand our daughter, but understanding is hardly the same as providing for her.”

Your mother hummed in agreement, tilting her head as she studied Sebastian like he was an unfortunate stain on her pristine tablecloth. “Yes, and you do come from rather humble beginnings,” she said smoothly, reaching for her wine. “It's tragic, truly. No parents. A sick sister. I can only imagine how difficult it must have been for you, growing up without proper guidance.”

Sebastian didn’t react, but you saw the barely perceptible flex of his fingers where they rested against the table. His posture remained relaxed—perhaps too relaxed—but there was a sharpness in his eyes, a quiet fury coiling beneath the surface.

“I imagine it taught me resilience,” he said evenly. “Self-sufficiency. Things I suspect not everyone in this room has had the opportunity to learn.”

Your mother’s lips twitched, something cold flickering in her expression while your father leaned forward slightly, hands threading together.

“You speak boldly for a man with nothing to offer," he said, his tone deceptively mild. "No wealth. No status. No respectable lineage. And yet, you seem to believe you deserve our daughter. How naïve.”

You clenched your fists beneath the table, your stomach twisting with anger.

Sebastian tilted his head, and though his expression remained perfectly polite, something flickered behind his gaze—something sharp, knowing. “And you speak as though she needs something from me,” he said smoothly. “As though she isn’t already more than capable of carving her own path.” He let the words settle before adding, “She doesn’t need anyone to provide for her, least of all me. But I imagine what she does need is support. Respect.” He smiled, a slow, deliberate thing. “I have no issue giving her both. I can’t say the same for others.”

The jab landed. You saw it in the way your father’s mouth pressed into a thin line, in the way your mother’s fingers twitched slightly before she masked it with a sip of wine. Her gaze flickered toward you, and in that moment, you saw it—annoyance, disappointment, maybe even frustration that you had allowed someone like him into this house. Into your life.

Your father recovered first. He inhaled slowly, his voice quiet, cold. “Let me explain something to you,” he said, his tone shifting from condescension to something far sharper. “This��” he gestured vaguely between you and Sebastian, “—is temporary. She’ll tire of whatever… fantasy you’ve spun for her soon enough.”

Your heart clenched. You opened your mouth, but before you could even form a response, Sebastian did.

He smiled. Not a soft smile. Not a kind one.

A sharp, knowing smirk. “Funny,” he said, tilting his head, “I was just about to say the same thing about your influence over her.”

Your mother inhaled sharply. Your father’s expression darkened. “You insolent scum,” he sneered, the veneer of civility finally cracking. “Do you honestly believe you can stand there and challenge me? In my home?” He leaned forward, his eyes cold, voice laced with something cruel. “You are nothing. A nobody. A street rat with no family, no future. Do you think some clever words and a polished suit change that?”

Your mother sighed, setting down her wine glass with an air of exhausted patience. “It’s pathetic, really,” she murmured, eyes sliding over Sebastian with a look of detached pity. “You must think yourself so noble, playing protector. So righteous.” Her lips curved into something resembling a smile, but there was nothing kind about it. “But it doesn’t change what you are. A boy who clawed his way out of the dirt, only to find himself desperately reaching for something beyond his station.”

Sebastian’s shoulders stiffened, his fingers curling subtly against the edge of the table. His expression didn’t waver—his mask of practiced ease was still firmly in place—but something about him changed.

Your mother took another slow sip of her wine, setting the glass down with a soft clink before turning her attention to you. “I trust this little performance has run its course?” she asked lightly. “Or shall we continue entertaining the delusion that this—” she gestured at Sebastian with a dismissive flick of her fingers, “—is anything more than a childish infatuation?”

The words hung in the air, sharp and gleaming, waiting to cut.

Your mother’s gaze was expectant, coldly patient, as if she were merely waiting for you to confirm what she already believed—that this was just another phase, another mistake she would soon correct. Your father, too, sat with the quiet confidence of a man who had never once considered that he wouldn’t be obeyed. That you wouldn’t bend to their will.

You looked at Sebastian.

The amusement that had once danced behind his eyes was gone. The sharp, confident smirk had faded. And for the first time that night, you saw it.

Hurt.

It was gone as soon as it came, so fleeting you might have missed it if you weren’t looking. But you were looking.

A sick sort of guilt coiled in your stomach, pressing against your ribs. Because Sebastian didn’t have to be here. He hadn’t asked for this. You had invited him—not because you wanted him subjected to your parents’ scrutiny, not because you thought he owed you anything, but because you had been too afraid to defy them. Too afraid to tell them no.

You had brought him into this house, sat him at this table, knowing exactly how it would go. Knowing exactly how they would look at him, dissect him, tear him down with a thousand polished, cutting words.

And yet... and yet he had fought. Not just for himself, but for you. For your dignity, your choices, your right to be more than just a perfectly groomed extension of them.

He had sat at this table, met their every challenge, endured every cutting remark. He had taken the blows meant for you, over and over, without hesitation.

Because that’s who he was.

And that’s why you loved him. Why you always had.

You inhaled slowly, then with careful, deliberate movements, you pushed your chair back. The legs scraped against the polished floor, slicing through the silence like a blade.

Your mother’s expression flickered, just slightly—her perfectly trained poise faltering for the briefest second. Your father’s gaze sharpened.

You stood.

Sebastian's head turned toward you, something wary in his expression. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just waited. Because despite everything, despite all the words that had been thrown between them, this moment wasn’t his.

It was yours.

You lifted your chin, meeting your mother’s gaze first. “Enough.”

A single word. Final. Absolute.

Your father scoffed. “Sit down.”

“No.” You turned to face him fully, voice unwavering. “You don’t get to speak to him that way. Not anymore. Not ever again.”

Your mother let out a breathy laugh, reaching for her wine. “Darling—”

“I love him.”

The words left your lips before you could second-guess them.

Your mother froze, her glass hovering just above the table. Your father’s expression turned to stone, his mouth pressing into a thin line. But it was Sebastian’s reaction that mattered most.

He went completely still.

You turned to look at him fully now, heart pounding, searching his face, because you’d never said it before. Not out loud.

But it was the truth.

And for the first time, you weren’t afraid of it.

“I love him,” you repeated, each syllable firm, unshaken. “And I won’t, for one more second, listen to your condescension, your cruelty, your endless judgment, not towards him.”

Your father scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re being ridiculous.”

You snapped your attention back to him. “No, I’m done being ridiculous,” you said, voice firm. “I’m done playing this game. Done pretending that what you want for me is what I want.” You exhaled, steadying yourself. “I just won’t sit here and pretend that what you’re doing isn’t vile. I won’t sit at this bloody table and let you look down on someone who is worth ten of any society man you’d rather have me with. And I’m done letting you dictate my life.”

Silence.

Then your mother’s voice, quiet but cutting. “You would choose him over your family?”

Your throat tightened.

“If you won't accept my choice, then yes. I would. And I will.”

The finality of it rang through the room.

Your mother’s lips pressed together, her shoulders going rigid. Your father simply let out a slow breath through his nose.

And Sebastian.

Sebastian, who had spent the evening enduring the worst of them, who had sat through every cruel, veiled insult and outright attack, who had stood his ground even when it hurt—

Sebastian looked at you like you were something impossible.

Like you had just rewritten the laws of the universe before his very eyes.

Like he had braced himself for battle and, instead, you had stepped in front of him and ended the war with nothing but your voice.

Your father made a low sound, something between exasperation and disgust. “You’re making a mistake.”

You exhaled slowly. “Then it’s mine to make.”

He shook his head, his expression unreadable. “You’ll regret this.”

You didn’t even hesitate. “No. I won’t.”

You lifted your chin, offering Sebastian your hand. “Let’s go,” you said, voice steady, unwavering.

Sebastian didn’t move for a heartbeat. His fingers twitched at his side, his gaze flicking from your hand to your face, searching—really searching—for any sign of hesitation, of regret.

He found none.

And that was when he took your hand.

Warm. Solid.

Your mother let out a quiet breath through her nose, something unreadable passing over her face before she schooled her features back into perfect neutrality. Your father, however, wasn’t as composed.

“I will not be made a fool of in my own home,” he said sharply, his voice carrying an edge of finality, of command. “You walk out that door, you do not walk back in.”

The weight of his words settled in the space between you, heavy and suffocating. A lifetime of expectations, of obligations, of control—all crumbling with a single choice.

Your mother folded her hands neatly in her lap, watching you with a cool, detached expression. “Well, darling?” she said, tilting her head. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Sebastian stiffened beside you, like he was ready for you to turn around and stay. Like he was bracing himself for the inevitable.

But there was no decision to be made. Even if Sebastian didn't love you back, even if you weren't actually courting, even if he never felt the same, even if this all ended tomorrow, you wouldn’t regret standing here, choosing yourself for the first time in your life.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

And with that, you turned.

You didn’t wait for another word, another cruel remark, another attempt to claw you back into the cage they had built for you. You simply walked away.

Outside the manor, the gravel drive crunched beneath your feet, the only sound in the otherwise still night. You didn’t speak. Neither did Sebastian. The weight of the evening hung between you, thick and suffocating, stretching into the quiet as you made your way down the long path.

When you reached the gates, Sebastian finally let go, of your hand, stepping forward to unlatch them. The metal groaned slightly as it swung open, and you hesitated only briefly before stepping through, leaving your childhood behind with the soft click of the latch snapping shut behind you.

The Floo loomed in front of you, smelling of ash and magic, thick with the weight of old decisions and new ones yet to be made.

Sebastian stepped forward first, tossing a handful of Floo Powder before vanishing into the green.

You inhaled, steadying yourself. Then you followed.

The second your feet touched the cool stone floor of the castle, the weight of it all, of everything that had just happened, crashed into you.

It was sudden, overwhelming—like the entire evening had been held at bay by sheer force of will, and now, with no more battles to fight, no more words left to say, it all came rushing in at once.

Your breath hitched. Then another. Then another.

You were breaking.

The grief, the exhaustion, the anger—it clawed up your throat all at once, twisting into something ragged and uncontrollable. You gasped, pressing the heel of your hand against your chest, as if you could physically hold yourself together.

And then you were crying.

Sobbing, really.

Not the quiet, dignified tears of someone mourning something small, but the raw, wrecked kind.

It was too much. The fight, the way they had looked at him, the way they had looked at you. The finality of it all. The loss. Because that’s what this was, wasn’t it? Walking away meant you had lost something, even if you had never really wanted it in the first place.

But you had gained something too. You knew that.

And yet, it still hurt.

“I’m sorry,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a whisper, barely holding itself together. “I—I shouldn’t have taken you there. I shouldn’t have—” Your breath shuddered violently as you wrapped your arms around yourself, your body shaking. “I knew what they’d do. I knew. And I still—”

Sebastian moved before you could finish.

Warm hands found your shoulders, solid and grounding. “Hey,” he murmured, voice low, steady. “Look at me.”

You did.

His gaze wasn’t full of pity. Not anger. Not resentment.

Just… Sebastian.

Soft. Steady. There.

And that was worse somehow, because it made you sob harder.

“I just—I don’t know what I was thinking,” you choked out. “I just wanted to get through it, to—”

“To satisfy them,” Sebastian murmured.

You nodded, another sob breaking free. “And I did. For years, I did. But I can’t anymore.” You exhaled sharply. "And now, now I've lost them, and I know it was right but—"

“It still hurts,” Sebastian finished for you, his voice softer now. "They're still your parents."

You swallowed past the lump in your throat, your nod barely perceptible.

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything.

And then—

“...Do you really love me?”

His voice was quiet. Almost hoarse.

You stiffened, your breath catching. Slowly, you lifted your head, looking up at him.

Sebastian's expression was unreadable, his shoulders tense like he was bracing himself for the answer. His fingers flexed at his sides, but his eyes—his eyes were wide, dark, filled with something you couldn’t place.

You had never seen him like this.

Never seen him afraid. Not of a fight. Not of a curse. But of this.

Of you.

“Do you?” he asked again, softer this time. “Or was it just—was it just something you said to get them to stop?”

You blinked, your breath still shaky, your cheeks still wet. And yet, somehow, the weight in your chest lifted just slightly, just enough for you to see through the grief, the exhaustion, the fear.

And the truth was still there, waiting for you, steady and undeniable.

You reached for him, fingers trembling, pressing against his arm first—then his jaw, his cheek, the way you had always wanted to but hadn’t dared.

His breath stuttered.

“Yes,” you whispered. “I love you.”

Sebastian didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

Didn’t blink.

He just stared at you, eyes wide, lips parted like he was trying to process the words—like he had heard them, understood them, but didn’t believe them.

“You—” His voice broke. He swallowed hard, shaking his head slightly. “You don’t have to say that just because—”

“I mean it, Sebastian.”

His whole body tensed.

“I didn’t say it for them. I didn’t say it to make a point. I didn’t say it to win.” Your voice was raw, stripped bare, nothing left to hide behind. “I said it because it’s true. It's been true for years."

Sebastian’s eyes flickered, something breaking apart behind them. His lips parted slightly, his breath uneven, and for a single, fragile moment, he looked lost.

And then he crashed into you, his arms wrapping around you with such force that it knocked the breath from your lungs. His grip was tight—almost desperate—like he had been waiting for this his entire life and still couldn’t believe it was real.

You barely had time to react before you were sinking into him, your fingers fisting into the back of his jacket, your face pressing into the warm, solid plane of his chest.

Then, his voice. Barely a whisper. Barely holding itself together.

"I love you, too."

You froze.

Sebastian only held you tighter.

His fingers curled into the fabric of your dress, gripping it like he needed something solid, something to keep him standing. His forehead pressed into your hair, and his breath was warm against your temple, coming in unsteady bursts, as if the words had taken everything out of him. Like they had been clawing their way out of him for years.

You turned your face deeper into his chest, squeezing your eyes shut as your arms wound tighter around him, your fingers pressing into the muscles of his back, warm, solid, real, yours.

Sebastian exhaled sharply, his whole body shaking. "You don’t—” His breath caught, like he couldn’t quite get the words out. “You don’t understand. I’ve wanted—I never—” He let out something between a laugh and a choked breath, his hands smoothing up your back, then gripping you tighter again, like he couldn’t decide if he should hold you gently or keep you locked against him forever.

“I thought—” He swallowed hard. “I never thought—" Another breath, another exhale, another shudder running through him.

"I never thought I was enough."

You pulled back just enough to see him, to look into his face, to make him see you. His eyes were wild with emotion, pupils blown wide, lips parted like he wanted to say more but didn’t know how. You reached up, cupping his jaw, thumbs tracing the sharp planes of his cheekbones.

“Then you’re an idiot,” you murmured teasingly, voice thick with emotion, “because you’ve always been enough.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. He searched your face, as if he was still trying to make sense of this, as if some part of him was waiting for you to take it back, to wake up from whatever dream this must have been.

But then—slowly, carefully—he let himself believe it.

And that was when he kissed you.

Slow, deep, desperate—in ways that only years of restraint could make it. In ways that made it feel inevitable, like the two of you had been pulled toward this moment by some unseen force long before either of you had the courage to acknowledge it.

Sebastian kissed you like he was starving for you, like he had been holding himself back for so long that now, given even the slightest permission, he couldn’t stop himself. His fingers splayed against your back, pressing you flush against him, as if the space between you was unbearable, as if he needed to feel you to believe this was real. His other hand slid up, cradling your face with a reverence that made your chest ache, his thumb sweeping over your cheekbone.

You melted into him, into the heat of him, into the way his lips moved against yours like he was memorizing you, like he needed to commit every touch, every sigh, every trembling breath to memory so he could keep it locked inside himself forever. He kissed you with years of unspoken words, years of buried longing, years of wanting but never allowing himself to have.

You weren’t sure which of you was trembling more.

And then, slowly, like he was dragging himself away from the very thing keeping him alive, Sebastian pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours.

“Say it again,” he whispered, his voice wrecked, raw in ways you had never heard before.

Your fingers loosened their grip, moving up, tracing along his jaw, mapping out every curve, every freckle, every part of him that you had never allowed yourself to touch before.

“I love you, Sebastian.”

His throat bobbed, his grip on you tightening, a smile splitting his face in two.

“I love you, too,” he murmured, soft but steady. He turned his head, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple, his lips warm and reverent.

Something inside you—something that had been wound tight for years—unraveled.

You had spent so long living the life that had been laid out for you, bending beneath expectations that had never truly been yours. You had spent so long trying to be what they wanted, waiting, waiting, for the moment you would finally be free.

And now—standing here, wrapped in his arms, his heartbeat thrumming against your own—you realized that freedom had never been something waiting for you on the horizon.

It had been yours to take all along.

[toupee-or-nottoupee]

my favorite ship dynamic is "I've had to watch you go into the path of no return and I love you" and its just blonde boys watching dark haired guys literally make the worst decisions known to man

[slytherinzz]

Sebastian: “Let’s make a pact: if either of us gets expelled, the other will smuggle us back in.”

Ominis: “If you get expelled, I’ll personally escort you out.”

[iatnen]

PLEASE TELL ME DANIEL AND SEBASTIAN REUNITE AND LIVE A HAPPY EVER AFTER?????? 😰😰

Hmmmmmm 😅 Well at least Sebastian is happy (sorta)

Idk maybe I’ll give them both a happy ending

[darknights04]

Sensing You

Pairings: Ominis Gaunt x reader

Summary: You and Ominis have been friends for as long as you've been at Hogwarts. He's felt more for you for almost just as long. He's never thought about telling you, but that was until the new fifth year put you in great danger.

Warnings: Spoils for Hogwarts Legacy (obviously), pain, cruciatus curse, unedited, not proof read. Reader is not mc

Masterlist

When it came to you, Ominis was no stranger to the idea of the long game. You, Ominis, Sebastian, and Anne had been friends for as long as you could all remember. Ominis has had a crush on you for almost just as long. It was worst this year. With Anne staying home all your attention was turned to the two boys. Usually you would turn to Anne some days and have girl time between the two of you. Now, Ominis had nothing but time to grow more and more infatuated with you. 

Ever since the new fifth year beat him in a duel, Sebastian had been mostly with them, giving you and Ominis even more time alone together. It was driving him crazy. Every time you laughed in the way that he loved, rested your chin on his shoulder to look at what we was doing, leaned your arm against his to whisper something during class. He had to hold himself back so he didn’t just grab you and slam his lips onto yours. One of the only parts of you he has yet to be able to identify. As children you would play games, Ominis feeling all of his friends’ faces and guess who was who, so he knew the general idea of what your face looked like. But your lips was a mystery to him. A mystery he badly wanted solved. 

Today, you were sitting with Ominis in a corridor near the slytherin common room. You had spent most of the day trying to cheer him up after Sebastian repeatedly would bother him about Salazar Slytherin’s Sciptorium. You knew that he wanted nothing to do with dark magic after the hold it has had no his family for generations. Sure, Ominis had been exaggerating his hurt feelings just a bit, but if all it took was a little pouting to get you this close to him, then you best believe he was about to win an oscar for this performance. 

“He just doesn’t understand how dangerous it is!” he complained with a dramitic sigh, smiling internally due to the hand you had running soothing circles across his back.

“He’s just trying to do anything he can to help Anne,” you replied, wanting to defend him. 

“I know. I don’t like seeing Anne suffer either, same as you. But I know where this path leads, and it’s never a good place.”

Ominis’s internal smile fell as he heard you greet the new student Sebastian had befriended. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked them with a small scoff.

That scoff, of course, resulting in a small smack on the shoulder from you, muttering a small “Manners,” in his ear. Ominis rolled his eyes, but the smile he had inside, reserve just for you, came back once more. 

“Do you have a moment?” the new student spoke up. 

Ominis didn’t want to, but he heard them out. After lying about Sebastian showing them the undercroft, Ominis has been wary about this student. Even so, he was feeling at ease due to your presence, and in turn agreed to show them where Salazar’s Scriptorum was located. 

“I hope we don’t regret this,” he said with a sigh as he revealed how to access the door. 

“We’ve just been sitting outside of it?” you asked with a chuckle, noticing you didn’t have to even move to be at the door. 

Ominis shrugged, his internal smile showing through just a bit on the outside. “It was the first place I thought of.” 

“First place you thought of to go and complain about the scriptorium?” 

“Precisely.” 

Before any of you knew it, Sebastian and his new friend had opened the door, ushering each other inside. 

“I just hope we’re ready for this,” Ominis continued to sigh. 

“We’ll be fine,” you tried to reassure. 

“We?” Ominis had repeated. “You’re not coming.” 

“What? Ominis you can’t possibly expect me to stay behind.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“If you’re going, I’m going,” was all you said, standing your ground. 

“Y/n…” he had tried to coax. You didn’t say anything, hands finding their way to your hips. Ominis sighed. He knew you were stubborn, so he also knew there was no talking you out of this. “Fine.” 

Your stubborn glare quickly faded into a cheek to cheek grin as you almost skipped next to Ominis, linking your arms together before making your way into the door, following behind Sebastian and the fifth-year who had already found their way inside. 

Not that you would ever admit it, but hearing Ominis speak Parsetounge did something to you. Yes, the language often ties a witch or wizard to dark magic, and for Ominis it serves only as a reminder to his family, but that doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate how attractive it was when he spoke it. 

“It worked!” the fifth year spoke as the door opened. “Ominis, you possess a rare ability indeed.” 

“It’s nothing,” he brushed off, retreating back towards you and linking your arms once more. 

“Truly,” you agreed. “It’s fascinating.”

If you weren’t near positive that Ominis would never think about you in a romantic way whatsoever, you would have sword you saw a small tinge of red grace his cheeks at your comment. But it was probably just the lighting. 

Once the door was open, the other two were fast to start figuring out the puzzles and the maze in order to get through the scriptorium. You and Ominis had stayed behind. Ominis wanted nothing to do with this, his job was just to open the door. You were curious about the area, yes, but Ominis was more important. You wanted to make sure he was okay. Usually throughout the days he would have plenty of distraction from his family and their legacy. But now? In the heart of Salazar Slytherin’s Scriptorium? All that surrounded him were reminders. 

As the doors opened one by one, you all moved further and further until you reached a black door. 

“Looks troubling,” was all Sebastian had said. 

Ominis scoffed. “This whole place is troubling.” 

As the other two went into the strange room, you didn’t budge. As Ominis was stopped from the firm grasp you still had on him, he turned towards you confused. 

“I don’t like the looks of this room,” you whispered. “I have a bad feeling about it.” 

“So do I,” he responded,his hand finding the top of yours to comfort you. “But for my aunt’s sake, we cannot stop now.” 

“You’re right,” you nodded, taking a deep breath. “We’ll be okay.” 

As soon as you stepped into the new room, the door closed behind you. 

“The gate!” Sebastian called out, “We’re locked in… again.” 

“Then Salazar Slytherin is not yet finished with us,” Ominis sneered. At this point, you began to panic. There was no clear way out. You began to lose even more hope when you looked in the corner and noticed-

“A skeleton,” the new student pointed out. “And Noctora’s last journal entry. She mentions being trapped here. Trapped by… and unforgivable curse.” 

Your eyes widened. The incantation “crucio” etched into the floor suddenly making sense. 

“No,” you said in a slight panic. “No there has to be some other way out of here. Another puzzle? Another brazier to light?”

“What?” Ominis asked, confused. “What are you talking about? What is it?”

“They know what we need to do,” Sebastian said plainly. “One of us needs to cast crucio.” 

Sebastian turned to his friend by the door, discussing the curse with them while Ominis began to pace. 

“Ominis,” you called to him. “Ominis relax, we will figure something out.” 

“No,” he said simply. “No this all could have been avoided. I could have refused, we could have just gone to dinner. I could have protested more to you joining.” 

“Ominis none of this is your fault.”

“Yes it is! Don’t you see? I put you in danger.”

“I chose to be here.” 

“But you had doubts, and I assured you that it would be alright.” 

“And we are alright. We’ll find a way around this.”

Before anything else could be said, they heard the new fifth year shout out “Crucio!” in Sebastian’s direction. The two of you looked towards the pair with wide eyes, about to call out towards Sebastion until… nothing happened. 

“Did you do the movement wrong?” Sebastian asked. 

“No,” they responded, shaking their head. “No, I think that I just couldn’t mean it. I care for you, Sebastian.” 

“You have to try,” he urged.

“I can’t.” 

“Cast it on me,” you spoke up suddenly, taking a step towards the pair. 

“No!” Ominis had interjected quickly. 

“They can’t cast it on Sebastian,” you began to explain. 

“You can’t-”

“We don’t have the same connection so they could-”

“Not you!” 

“Ominis,” you sighed, quieting your voice as you pulled him aside. “I will be fine.”

“I’ve felt the cruciatus curse before so I-”

“Shouldn’t have to go through it again. Let me do this, please.” 

Ominis didn’t say anything more. You took his silence as a sign of agreement, so you approached the door. 

“You ready?” Sebastian had asked you. 

You nodded. “Ready.” 

Ominis braced for the moment that the spell left their wand. He knew what to expect, but he’d never heard the sound of excruciating pain from you. That was something he was not curious to find out. 

Ominis listened as the screams left your throat, as you fell to your knees on the ground. He expected this. He expected the screams to last for several seconds. But this was too long. If they had just cast the curse and left it at that, the pain would have subsided by now. This was prolonged for too long. 

“Stop!” he yelled over the screams. “That’s enough!” 

He waited for what felt like eternity for the screams to stop. For any sign that you were no longer in pain. But when your screams had cut off abruptly, it did not give him the relief he was waiting for. 

“Y/n?” he asked into the silence. “Y/n are you okay?” Never had there ever been a moment in his life that Ominis had wished more that he could see what was happening around him. When you didn’t respond, he began to walk towards the door, calling Sebastian’s name instead. “What’s happened? Are they okay?”

When Sebastian didn’t respond either, Ominous really began to panic. “Answer me, Sebastian!”

“They fainted,” the student told him flatly. 

“What?” he hissed, rushing to where he last heard your voice, hands failing about to try and find any sign of you. When his hand landed on your shoulder, he let out a small breath of relief, almost as if he expected you to have disappeared entirely. “I’m taking them to the hospital wing,” he then announced, following down your arm to find the bend of your knees, intending to pick you up.

“No!” Sebastian protested. “You can’t.” 

“And why not?” 

“They’ll know we were using unforgivables,” the fifth-year stated. 

“What if we need you to open another door?” Sebastian commented at the same time. 

“Glad to see you both care so deeply about their safety,” Ominis scoffed.

“You can’t carry them and use your wand to lead you both,” Sebastian continued, looking for another excuse to keep the boy there. “Let’s find the end of this tunnel and then we’ll take them there together, deal?” 

Ominis sighed, head faced towards the floor. He didn’t want to delay getting you the help you needed, but Sebastian was right. He could crash you both into a wall and injure you further. As much as he hated to admit it, your health was in their hands now. 

“Just hurry up, will you?” he muttered quietly. 

---

When you finally awoke from your unconscious state, Ominis was asleep next to you. Looking around you noticed you were no longer in the dungeons, but instead in the hospital wing under watchful eyes. Well, not that Ominis could very well be included in that. 

As you turned to look at the boy next to you, you moved as quietly as possible. Lacking his sight, Ominis seemed to have much higher hearing abilities than anyone else you knew, so you knew that any sudden noise would be enough to wake him. Your theory was proved correct as he stirred awake at the small ruffle of the sheet. 

You watched as he opened his mouth, but no sound came out as if he changed his mind on speaking up. Instead, you saw his hand slowly reach out towards you, as if to confirm you were there. 

“I’m awake,” you told him with a smile. 

Ominis let out a small breath of relief. “Are you alright?”

“I’m alright,” you nodded. “I didn’t expect it to last that long.” 

“It shouldn’t have,” he said, almost with a sneer. “That new student had to curse on you for longer than it needed to be. All we needed was for it to hit you, they made it linger. They’re lucky I don’t go straight to professor Black and have them expelled.”

Ominis’s thoughts stopped in their tracks when he felt you lay your hand on top of his. 

“I’m alright,” you assured him again. “Lay with me.”

“I- What?”

“Please? I don’t want to think about any of this anymore.”

Ominis sat still in thought for a moment, stammering slightly to himself before standing from his chair, feeling around the bed to make sure you were out of the way before laying down beside you. You layed your head onto his chest and exhaled deeply with a contented sigh. Ominis smiled gently to himself, his nose falling into your hair as he inhaled your scent. He decided then and there that it didn’t matter that he could never see you. Every other sense he had t otake you in was just fine for him. Your voice was enough to bring a small smile to your face, your laugh even more so. Your smell felt like home to him. He could tell you were in a room just by the smell of your shampoo. He could pinpoint which brand it was in a shop just with a small whiff alone. The touch of you skin never failed to comfort him in times of distress. The soft, delicate touch of your hand on his would always bring a smile to his lips. Your taste.. He was yet to be abpe to experiance. The only one of his available senses that has yet to experience you. The rest thought you were perfect, he could only imagine that would be the same.

That is, assuming he ever decides to do anything about his feelings for you. 

For now, however, this was enough for him.

Part Two

[mochroialainn]

Despite everything

Title: Despite Everything Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy Characters: Sebastian Sallow x reader Plot: Despite everything he did, despite everything he said to you, the months of pain caused he caused you. Some part of you still saw the good, saw the kind and the caring and the protective. Most of all you still saw the hurt and the pain he suffered, so despite everything you gave him back the one thing he loved most in the world. His sister . Themes: Angst, hurt/comfort Warnings: Asshole Sebastian, mild hurt/comfort, love confessions, fem!reader. Word count: 6,769 Notes: This is based in 7th year, all characters are ages up to 18. I also have yet to finish the game, so please excuse any errors! This also got very out of hand very quickly and I apologise for the length

Golden light filtered through the windows of the Sallow home in Feldcroft illuminating everything inside in a warm honey glow that gave Anne a feeling of hope as she watched the person who had slowly became her best friend over the past year and a half, fiddle with her wand, twirling it between her fingers and twisting and turning it absentmindedly as her eyes scanned over the piece of parchment in her hands. 

It was an unlikely friendship, but one that was true and ran deep. It was a friendship built on trust and love and seeing every part of the other. For too long all people saw in Anne was her illness, the dreadful curse that had taken over her life too long. They pittied her and feared her at the same time, they didn’t want the same thing to happen to them and even though it wasn’t contagious people tended to stay clear of her. But [name] wasn’t like that, she saw Anne wholly for who she was. She saw her as a person rather than her illness, 

She saw the Anne that many thought was lost the day she was cursed, she saw the daring adventurous girl she once was. [Name] always revelled in reading and hearing the stories of Anne and Sebastian when they were children, their mischieviousness and the trouble they would get into, she proclaimed one day that Anne and Sebastian were probably the reason Solomon had grey hairs, causing the two girls to fall into a fit of giggles. 

And Anne saw [name] as more than the Hero of Hogwarts, she saw past the facade of strength and courage to see the crumbling girl beneath who carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. The girl who was suddenly whisked into a world of magic and was the only one with the power to stop it from crumbling. She saw the vulnerability and the fear hidden deep below the mask. But she also saw the kindness and the protectiveness, saw it in the way she spoke of her friends. Of Ominis and Sebastian and how she would have burned the world to the ground if anything were to happen to them, and those two boys were the most important people in her life and as soon as she saw how [name] cared for them she was quickly added to the list. 

Since their initial meeting, the girls had sent each other countless owls back and forth and [Name] would visit Anne any time she could, though her visits became less frequent towards the end of their 5th year. Anne had asked about in her letters, saying she missed [Name] and even tried to sweeten it by saying that even Solomon missed her because he loved the way Anne’s eyes would light up anytime [Name] was around and he was happy she had a friend like her. Something had changed,she just didn’t know what and though [Name] never divulged the information she had a feeling it was to do with her stubborn, hard-headed brother who couldn’t see a good thing if it him in the face with same force as a bludger. 

It was during the summer of their sixth year that Anne finally pulled the information from Ominis who had come to see her and Sebastian. Sebastian and Solomon had gone off to do some shopping, the pair slowly mending bridges together, and Anne had asked Ominis about [Name]. She had noticed the way he fidgeted uncomfortably, pulling on his sleeves and chewing on hislips nervously. After much pestering from Anne’s side, Ominis had finally relented and told her what happened. 

About her working with a goblin and Sebastians reaction, him calling her ignorant and icing her out as if she had never meant anything to him. To how he was treating her like she meant nothing to him, like she didn’t even exist. And Anne swore if she could she was going to beat her brother black and blue because she was simply the best thing to ever happen to him. Ominis had sensed her getting worked up, the tension and heat in the room rising, and he had let her know that Imelda Reyes already landed a punch on Sebastian that landed him in the hospital wing with a broken nose and Gareth Weasley had accidentally spilled a potion on him that made him smell like sour milk for 2 whole weeks. That had got a chuckle out of her and Ominis promised to tell [name] that she should come visit and that was enough for Anne. 

So [Name] did just that, she and Ominis conspired with Anne and Solomon to have her go over when Sebastian wasn’t around so the girls could talk. It was during one of these visits that [Name] revealed she hadn’t stopped looking for something to help Anne, even if she couldn’t find a cure she wanted to find something that could illviate the pain and make it so Anne could return to Hogwarts. Anne was gobsmacked when she said it, not wanting her to loose herself in the dark magic the same way Sebastian had. 

That was when [name] explained to Anne that she wasn’t going anywhere near dark magic ever again, her use of it had left her scarred and broken and she was still putting herself back together with the help of her friends, and she revealed her connection to ancient magic and how she could wield it. She told her of Isidora taking the pain away from her father and how Sebastian had damn near lost her mind when she refused to do it. She explained to Anne she simply didn’t know enough, she had seen what happened to Isidora and those she claimed to help by taking away their pain and she was not prepared to take Anne out of one torment to throw her straight into another. She had to study it more and she didn’t care how long it took but she would find a way to help Anne that didn’t involve dark magic or Isidora’s method. 

[Name] always kept Anne informed of her research, telling her what she had learned and the progress she had made even if she was only half a step closer, she also told her stories of Hogwarts and the spells they were learning how the more she researched healing the more she wanted to become a healer. This continued for over a year, the two becoming best friends and sneaking around Sebastian but never mentioning him, both recognising the pain he had caused [Name], and to now. 

It was two weeks before the end of summer and [name] returning to Hogwarts for the 7th and final year. She had spent most of her summer researching and working and perfection and finally, finally she found the last bit she needed and as soon as she had confirmation from Anne that Sebastian was out of their home and would be gone for a few hours she used floo powder to travel to the Sallow home where had been pacing and re-reading for the last hour as Anne watched on amusedly, hope blooming in her chest. 

Finally [Name] folded the parchment that had been in her hand up and returned it to her pocket and faced Anne with a smile. “Are you ready?”

Anne nodded and whispered a quiet “yes” just loud enough to [Name] to hear, but it was all she needed to hear. If Anne was ready, so was she. She stood beside Anne’s bed, the point of her wand nearly touching her hair line, she spoke a soft encatation the tip of her wand glowing blue, the familiar surge of ancient magic flowing through her and making her feel feather light. 

Moving the wand slowly down Anne’s forehead a trail of light followed from the first point, she stopped at point below between Anne’s eyebrows she repeated the incantation again and another pool of light followed as she repeated the steps again moving her wand down Anne's body, stopping at her throat, the center of her chest just slightly right of her heart, at the base of her strernum, at her belly button, and finally at her feet, the trail of light following the path. 

Once she finished the last incantation, he moved her wand once again, placing it directly above Anne’s heart a repeated another incantation this one different can causing the magic to spread out around Anne until every inch of her body was covered in the brilliant blue of ancient magic. The tip of [Name]’s wand dug into the soft flesh of Anne’s chest, not hard enough to cause pain but enough for it to be felt and for her to control the magic working its way through Anne’s body with a lot more precision and she closed her eyes. 

It was an intense feeling, being able to move and see the magic rolling  through someone's body. Being able to locate the curse that had buried itself deep inside Anne. She found it quite quickly, seeing it as dark, throned vines that had twisted itself around Anne’s nervous system and rooted right in her heart. Slowly, [Name] started untangling the vines using her magic to weaken their grip on Anne’s body, pulling them away and covering them in the light of ancient magic causing them to wither and wilt away, she started with the vines twisted around ther nerves slowly killing them all before moving on to the organs and then the muscles and finally to the root of the dark magic lodged inside her heart. This one was a little trickier and required a lot more care and patience, slowly she pulled at the roots, pulling them out one by one and killing them until only one remained and then until none remained. 

Slowly, she opened her eyes and and removed her wand from Anne’s chest, the light at the end extinguishing as the ancient magic around Anne faded. The golden light that had been shining in the room previously had gone, now the room was illuminated in a silver hue the full moon outside the window shining on the two girls and providing the only light in the room. 

“How do you feel?” [Name]’s voice was soft, exhaustion making its home in her body as her muscles started to feel heavy and her brain started to fog. She knew the magic would take it out of her, knew it would leave her exhausted but she wouldn’t let Anne see that, she would only worry [Name] had done too much at once and fuss over her. 

“I feel… good.” Anne smiled, the pain she usually felt gone, the tension in her muscles easing. Breathing was easier and her chest felt light for the first time in years, she took a deep breath and reveled in the fact that it didn’t hurt. A smile quickly came to her lips as she sat herself up, back leaning against the headboard, tears pricked at her eyes as the joy took over and she couldn’t help but let a few slips past and a joyous laugh feel from her lips. [Name] started tearing up as well, reaching out to take Anne’s hand as she mumbled out ‘thank yous’ between the tears. 

“What are you doing here?” An angry voice cuts through the sobs of Anne and causes both girls to whip their head to the door to see Sebastian standing here his face red and nostrils flared as he glared directly at [Name]. The girls eyes widened as she stood in shock, she knew there was always a risk he would come home but she thought she had enough time to leave before he did but the spell must have took much longer than she thought. She wanted to apperate out there and then, to disappear and not face the angry face of the boy she still cared so deeply for despite everything. Beside him Ominis stood, his hand outstretched across Sebastians chest to stop him from charging forward. 

“Sebastian…” Ominis’ voice was a stern. It was a warning to his friend not to do anything stupid or in anger. Sebastian simply growled in response placing his hand on Ominis’ and pushing his friends hand away as he stalked towards [Name].He was taller than her now, she remember being able to look him in his eyes in 5th year but he had shot up in 6th year and now he towered over her, eyes cold and harsh as he glared. 

“What.are.you.doing.here?” His voice was harsher than his glare, the sound of it actually struck fear into [Name]’s heart as she strugged to come up with a response. The exhaustion had fully sank in now, her muscles were giving in on her and she could feel her legs shaking, barely holding her weight up and her head felt like it had been submerged underwater and everything seemed so far away and so close all at once. Her chest constricted, breathing hard to do as every breath felt like a sharp pain. Her body was starting to shut down, she needed to rest and if she didn’t leave soon she was going to collapse. 

Anne’s hand left hers and instead grabbed Sebastians, drawing his gaze away from [Name] just in time as she tumbled slightly backwards. Anne saw it happened from her periphery, the way [Name] was struggling to standing and seemed to sway from side to side, but she knew she needed to calm Sebastian down before she could help her friend.Sebastian’s glare softened slightly when he turned to his sister and the hand she wasn’t holding closed over the top of hers in comfort. “Sebastian, she was helping me. She found a cure.”

Sebastians eyes widened at her words, the harshness melting away and making room for shock instead as his eyes darted between Anne and [Name]. “What?” His words caught in his throat,a lump forming and stopping any more words from coming out as he eyed his sister up and down and reached out to cup her cheek and rub it gently with his thumb. Anne nodded her head as a confirmation that it was true, “I’m cured Sebastian.” 

That was the last thing [Name] heard before she hit the floor, the exhaustion finally taking over her body and rendering her unconscious. Ominis jumped at the sound, eyes immediately landing on the spot where [Name] had fallen, his hand was in his hand leading him to hear before Sebastian could even mutter a word or get close to her. His hands were gentle as he felt for her arm, fingers moving slowly down until he reached her wrist he pressed into it gently a relieved sigh leaving his lips as he felt the her pulse. “Sebastian, go get Solomon.” 

Sebastian nodded and released Anne’s hand and face, rushing down to get his uncle. Anne slowly moved from her place on the bed, so used to being careful with her body to join Ominis on the floor and placing [Name]’s head in her lap as she ran a hand through her hair gently and placed her forehead against hers as a silent thank you for what she had done through she knew [Name] couldn’t feel it. Sebastian and Solomon quickly returned, Solomon’s shock of seeing Anne up and not in pain quickly being replaced with mild panic at the sight of the unconscious witch in her lab. 

“We need to get her to a healer, now”. 

༺═────────────═༻

When [Name] awoke she was in the hospital wing of Hogwarts, Matron Blainey standing over her with wand in hand as she did some basic checks on her body. “Ah, look who’s awake” 

“Matron Blainey? How did I get here?” Confusion clouded [Name]’s mind, the last thing she remembered was Sebastian towering over her, his icy glare piercing through her entire body. It hurt to try and remember anything else, she tried to sit up but Matron Blainey placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her head gently.

“You’re exhausted dear, you’ve been unconscious for two days. Solomon Sallow brought you in alongside a very healthy looking Anne Sallow who explained you had used ancient magic to cure her.” [Name] lay back down, head hiting the pillow with a soft ‘thump’ as she out an exacerbated sigh, she hated being confined to a bed and not being able to move. More than that she wanted to see Anne and make sure she was still okay. Matron Blainey placed a hand atop her forehead as she continued speaking, “the magic you used exhausted you and caused you to collapse in the middle of Anne’s bedroom. Solomon tried to find a healer in Feldcroft but they were of gathering supplies and so he apperated you here, he was just lucky I was doing some final checks before the new school year started” 

[Name] nodded her head gently, the movement causing immense pain in her head as her body finally registered the aches flowing through it, including the migraine that was now blaring right behind her head. “And Anne?” Matron Blainey took out a wiggenweld potion and gently had [Name] drink it, “For the pain” 

She capped the empty potion bottle before turning back to the station beside the bed and lifting a hot towel and laying it gently against [Name]’s head. “She’s good, I checked her over myself and she seems to be in tip-top shape thanks to you. In fact I believe they are currently speaking to Professor Black about her returning to Hogwarts after the summer.” A smile broke out onto [Name]’s lips which Matron Blainey returned, “Now rest. Your parents have been informed of what has happened but I want to keep you here for observation for a bit longer”

Relief filled [Name]’s body, it had worked and Anne was okay with that, she closed her eyes and feel into a deep slumber. 

༺═────────────═༻

[Name] spent 3 more days in the hospital wing, most of it she spent sleeping and recovering under the careful eye of Matron Blainey who informed she had quite a few visitors, Anne for one was coming almost daily alongside Ominis and they spoke to her as she slept. Talking about how excited Anne was to get back to Hogwarts and how she would have extra assignments to do to catch up, she might have to do an extra year to complete bother her O.W.L.S and her N.E.W.T.S but she didn’t mind as long as she was back. Matron Blainey told her Ominis usually just watched Anne talk but joined in occasionally mostly just to vent about his summer had been terrible with his family and catching up with Anne. She had also said Solomon had visited a few times and when asked about the flower at her bedside, the matron had informed her that Sebastian had left them it was beautiful bouquet of blue hyacinths and daffodils. 

[Name] was shocked Sebastian had came, he hadn’t spoke to her in over a year and a half and openly spoke bad about her to friends, berating her and undermining her skills and efforts and yet here he was visiting her and leaving flowers. When Matron Blainey commented on the blue hyacinths and daffodils being an unusual combination, [Name] had simply replied, “In the language of flowers, blue hyacinths are a symbol of remorse and sincerity and daffodils mean forgiveness and hope” 

The flower choice was deliberated, Sebastian knew [Name] had a small fascination with the language of flowers and had spent time in her 6th year learning it with Professor Garlick, she assumed he had gone to either her or Ominis for advice on the flowers to use. But she appreciated the sentiment all the same. Matron Blainey had simply nodded her head and commented that he must be trying to apologise for something incredibly bad if he was going to such length. Though she didn’t verbalise it, [Name] definitely thought ‘you can say that again’. 

After the 3rd day in the Hostpial Wing, [Name] was allowed to return home and get ready for the upcoming school year, it was only a week and a half away after all. Her parents fussed over her a little, making sure she was okay before scolding her softly for beingso reckless with such a powerful spell and then they told her how proud they were of her for what she did. 

The week and a half leading up to school was uneventful, she got owls from Imelda, Poppy, Garteth and Anne about the upcoming year and she answered them all as quickly as she could. She was excited to start the new year, learning new spells and polishing up all her other spells and skills but yet one thing niggled in the back of her mind, a constant thought that never seemed to disappear no matter how hard she tried to push it away. That thought was simply Sebastian Sallow. 

She didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to do about the curly haired boy. She had loved him since 5th year, even after he called her ignorant and began ignoring her. Began speaking bad of her to anyone who would listen, he had broke her with that. She thought he had cared about it, at one point thought he loved her like she loved him but that didn’t seem to be the case. And then he goes and sends her a bouquet of forgiveness and turned her mind upside down once again with thoughts of him. Whatever thoughts she had of him and wanting to forgive him though were pushed to the side, she had spoke to Imelda and Poppy in her letters about what happened and they both had the same sentiment that flowers were not enough and an apology and they would want more, well Imelda would want him to beg for forgiveness while Poppy would want more of a show of remorse and though she might not agree with how they want the forgiveness to be asked for, she agreed he need to earn her forgiveness and the flowers were simply not enough for him breaking her heart. So as she boarded the Hogwarts express, she pushed all thoughts of him to the side and joined her friends in a carriage to have a proper catch up of what they did over the summer. 

༺═────────────═༻

It was two weeks into the new term and Sebastian still hadn’t made a move to properly apologise to [Name], instead he just stared longingly at her across the tables in the Great Hall and in classes watching as she laughed and smiled with her other friends, with Gareth Weasley. The sight of the red-head making her laugh filled him with jealousy, jealousy that was undeserved mind you and he knew it. He knew he had no right to be jealous,[Name]  wast his and she never was  no matter how much his heart called out to her . He was the one that pushed her away, he was the one who couldn’t see past his anger and his stubbornness to see she was only trying to help and by the time that word got to him that it was Rockwood who had cursed Anne and not goblins it was too late, the damage was already done. He didn’t think there was anything he could say now that could make her forgive him, even if Matron Blainey had told him she adored the flowers and took them home with her, somewhere deep in his mind told him she would never forgive him and that part of him always won over the side that told him to at least try. 

A ‘smack’ to the back of his head brought him out of reprieve and he turns to his sister in shock, eyes wide and a look of ‘what the fuck was that for’ flitted accross his face. Anne simply huffed and crossed her arms over her chest and she stared at her brother incredously, “You can’t be serious?”  

The look of shock turned to a questioning one as he looked at his sister, “What?” Beside Anne, sat Ominis who rolled his eyes at his friends denseness, the action was almost in synch with Anne’s as she face palmed and rolled her own eyes. “You are such a dumb ass Sebastian Sallow”

“What for?” Sebastian knew he did a lot of stupid things, a lot, but he genuinely did not know what his sister was talking about until she motioned towards [Name] and raised an eyebrow, “You still haven’t talked to her?”

Anne knew he hadn’t, [Name] had told her as much the night before as she, [Name], and Imelda sat in around the fire in their dorm rooms gossipping. Imelda made a comment about how he didn’t deserve forgiveness anyway which caused the other two girls to roll their eyes, Anne knew where Imelda was coming from. She knew [Name] didn’t solely rely on her for female friendship and Sebsatian was her brother so she didn’t want to bring her problems about him to Anne and Imedla had stayed up many nights holding a crying [Name] in her arms as she got through the heartbreak that was loosing Sebastian Sallow, she was the one who helped her pick up the pieces of her broken heart and slowly glue it back together. 

But Anne knew her brother, knew he wanted to apologise. Wanted to fix things. He was just stupid and stubborn and an absolute fool when it came to manners of the heart. Sebastian cast his eyes down to his hands, fingers fiddling together as he avoided Anne’s intense gaze and shook his head. It was strange to see him so demure, so shy, he was usually so confident about everything. Thats when Anne knew he didn’t know what to do. 

She let out a sigh and dropped her hand to his, prompting him to look up at her through his eye lashes, “Just tell her how you feel Sebastian before you loose your chance.” As she said that, his eyes looked up at your again just in time to see Gareth tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and subtly glance down at your lips as if he wanted to kiss you. A pit formed in Sebastians stomach, the jealousy now turning into something tangible and real and dangerous, he couldn’t loose you. Not to Weasley, not to anybody. He stood from his spot at the table quickly, and abruptly stormed out of the room the dramatics of his actions drawing attention from the other slytherins near him. 

“What’s gotten into him?” Imelda asked as she eyed his back, Ominis’ simple response was “he finally grew a pair” causing a chuckle to leave the mouths of the surrounding slytherins, including Anne. 

༺═────────────═༻

A haggard sigh slips through [Name]’s slips as she walked into her dorm room, the light of the lanterns illuminating the space in such a way it feels homely and welcoming, it's a comfort of a home away from home to come back to at thend of a long school day, Imelda sits on her bed, booked surrounding her as she studies and scribbles away on her parchment. It seemed the only time the quidditch captain and prefect had to study as in the early morning dawn before the sun even kissed the sky before quidditch practive  and at dusk as the moons silvery moon starts to illuminate the black lake in an etheral light before she has to attend her prefect duties. She glances up at [Name] briefly offering a small smile and pointing to the other girls bed with her head, “There’s something on your bed”

Confused, [Name] turns towards her bed and walks towards it cautiously afraid one of the other slytherins had got the wrong idea and thought she was an easy target for a prank. Instead of an ill-fated prank on her bed there is a bouquet of flowers, a plain velvet box and a note. Her fingers trail over the bouqert gently, this one is fuller than the one at the hospital wing full of wisteria (her favourite flower), carnations, and tulips. She smiles gently and lifts the bouquet, taking a smell of the flowers and letting out a content smile. The flowers were symbolic once again, wisteria is associated with long life and love, carnations meant deep affectionate love, and the red tuplips were usually conveyed that a person was your one true love. 

Conjuring a vase, she places the flowers inside them as her heart hammers inside her chest, feelings she thought long forgotten bubbling to the surface as she turns back to her bed and lifts the velvet box and opens it. She gasps gently as she pulls out a gold chain with a beautiful moissante heart, she turns it over in her hands admiring the beauty and craftsmanship of the piece and an inscription catches her eye, ‘tuum in aeternum’, her heart beat quickens once again as her latin lessons finally come in handy as she quickly translates the phrase in her mind to ‘yours forever’. 

Tears start forming in her eyes as she places the necklace back in its box and slips it into her pocket before reaching for the note, its simple and reads ‘im sorry. Please meet me in the undercroft tonight at 12 - S.S’. She lets out a shuttering breath and blinks the tears back, she didn’t know what to expect if she went. Didn’t know how she would react to him. To speaking to him again, with the way her heart was beating and how touch she was at the gifts he gave her she didn’t know if she could stop herself from immediately throwing herself into his arms. 

Imelda’s voice pulls her out of her rolling thoughts, “Who’s it from?”

Clearing her throat, she turns to Imelda and looks back down at the card her voice coming out as barely a whisper, “Sebastian…” Imelda doesn’t ask for more information, she knows she doesn’t have to instead she just raises and eyebrow and waits for her friend to continue, “He wants to meet tonight at 12.”

At this Imelda rolls her eyes and placed her quill down, she was going to chastise her friend for breaking curfew and going back to Sebastian when he didn’t deserve it but the look on [Name]’s face as she stared at the small piece of paper has her biting her tongue. She see’s the hope in her eyes that this might be their chance at reconciliation, that they could make up and she sees the love there as well. The love her friend had pushed so far down inside of her Imelda worried she had stopped herself from feeling the motion ever again and she lets out a sigh. “Let me know what corridor you need clear and I’ll keep the other prefects away”

༺═────────────═༻

[Name] would have to thank Imelda a million times over for this, she knew her friend didn’t hold Sebastian in high regard after everything that had happened in 5th year and she still held the memory of Imelda turning round and socking him right in the nose when she heard him speak badly of [Name] for the first time. It shows that Imelda cared, despite how prickly she could be. As Imelda promised, the corridor leading to the UnderCroft was clear, giving her a clear path without the risk of any prefect seeing through her disillusionment charm. Standing before the entryway to the UnderCroft [Name] takes a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves bundling up inside of her and turning her stomach into knots. 

After removing her disillusionment charm, she  takes a few before she feels fully confident in going down and as she descends her hands roughly card through her hair and they start picking at the skin around her nails in nervousness. They let out another shuddering breath as the doors open to the UnderCroft, their heart feels like it's about to beat out of their chest as they take the first step out and the knots in their stomach seems to deepen to the point that they feel nauseous and that feeling only intensifies when she see’s Sebastian leaning against on the pillars with his arms crossed over his chest and his head facing the ceiling, eyes closed in contemplation. 

He looked so handsome, he had always been handsome but something about him was different. She realised she hand’t really looked at him since that day in 5th year, after all she had been avoiding him, but his jawline had gotten sharper and there was an air of maturity around him that she hadn’t seen before. She knew he was taller, he had towered over her in the Sallow home in Feldrcoft after all, but he was broader too. He had well and truly grown into himself and he was so devestaingly handsome it almost killed her. 

His eyes opened and his head snapped towards her, his gaze was piercing but not the way it was in his home. Then it was full of anger and it had scared it. This time, it was different. It was as if he was looking right through her, like he was staring straight into her very being and could see how nervous she was. His eyes also held something else, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on but it was gentle and kind and as his gaze went over her entire body she felt like she was being draped in warmth and comfort, the same kind of feeling she got on a stormy day and she wrapped herself up in blankets with hot chocolate and a good book. 

She takes a step closer to him and he does the same, they stay silent as their eyes take each other in fully for the first time in a year and a half. Sebastian wasn’t the only one who changed, she had too. She had changed her hair style, courtesy of Poppy’s advise, and it shaped her face beautiful and accentuated her features, the shape of her eyes, the slope of nose, the plumpness of her lips and he wanted to reach out and kiss her. And though she didn’t grow quite as tall as he did, she had grown some and with that growth came other changes that he would be ashamed to admit he noticed, the plumpness of her hips and thighs, it made her hip dips more noticeable and made her look even more beautiful. 

He would never admit it to anyone, he barely admitted it to himself but he had spent many nights dreaming of how her body would feel in his hands, her silk skin against his and her bare thighs pressing against his, her bare chest pressing against his. He had spent many sleepless nights fantasising about having her because he believed it would never really happen. 

They take a few more steps towards each other until their standing toe to toe, they stand in silence for a bit the only sound being their breathing and they don’t move, they simply bask in each others presence. Sebastian is the first to move, he takes one of her hands in her own and presses a gentle kiss to knuckles before muttering “You’re absolutely beautiful.” 

Blush quickly seeps over [Name]’s face, dusting her cheeks rosy pink, “And I am an absolute fool.” His other hand comes up to cup at her cheek and he rubs gentle circles into the apple of hit as he continues, “I couldn’t bear the thought of loosing you to goblins. Of falling into their schemes and traps I thought you were abandoning me for them, I thought you had given up on me.” 

A sad smile form on [Name]’s face as she reached her own hand up to cup the one Sebastian has on her cheek, “I never would have abandoned you Sebastian”

“I know. But I’m stubborn and hardheaded and a complete and utter asshole.I felt betrayed and I was hurt and angry and I thought by hurting you I would hurt less. I thought if I could convince you to hate me it would be easier for me to hate you for betraying me. But it wasn’t.”

He lets out a shuttering breath, his words soft as he speaks them. Almost as if someone else will here them and his words are only means for you, “It was the hardest damn thing I ever had to do. Acting like I hate you. Like I hated the ground your walked one, when in actuality I wanted to worship it. I wanted to worship you.” 

[Name] turns her head slightly and kisses the palm of the hand holding her cheek, urgin him to continue, “You are simply amazing, a powerful witch in your own right who could kick my ass in a duel anytime. But you are also sweet, and kind and compassionate, you are the most courageous peson I know and you protect and care for those you love. You are better than I am in every way and I am so undeserving of you and your love. But I love you, I love you so much that it hurts. I have loved you since your first day in Defense Against the Dark Arts when you kicked my ass in your first every duel, that was the day I gladly ripped my heart and placed it in your hands for safekeeping and I thank Merlin every second of every minute of every hour or day that you decided not to crush it. My heart is and always be your eternally”

“Tuum in aeternum” [Name]’s whisper is soft and finally she recognises the look in his eyes, the one that felt like warmth and comfor and home, it was love. Sebastian always kept a mask on, acting cool and collected and calm, his true emotions rarely shining through his carefully built facade to keep people from getting too close, but for her, for her, he dropped the mask and his walls he had built to keep his emotions to himself were crumbling before her very eyes. 

His eyes brightened at the recognition of the phrase and he can’t stop his excitement seeping through, “You got the necklace?”

[Name] nodded her head and pulled the velvet box from her pocket and opened it, the moissonite twinkling below the torches in the UnderCroft. “I did. Will you help me put it on?” He quickly nods and she hands him the box as she turns and pulls her hair out of the way, his hands are gentle as he places the necklac against her chests and clasps it at the back of her neck. She turns back to him and cups his face gently in her hands. 

“Despite everything, despite the pain you put me through this past year and a half, I still and always will love you Sebastian Sallow. My heart has been yours since you took the fall for me with Scribner. I have seen the dark sides of you but I have also seen the light.I have seen the kind and caring person you are, how much you love and care for Anne and Ominis and how you would burn the world down to protect them. You are not wholly bad Sebastian, you are good too and you are deserving of love and more. I am still hurting from what you did to me, but I forgive you”

Shock covers his features and Sebastian is quick to wrap [Name] in a tight embrace,pulling her close against his chest and leaning his head into her shoulder, “I will spend every minute of every day making it up to you, I promise you that.”

Sebastian pulls away from the hug and quickly ducks down to place a chaste kiss on [Name]’s lips, testing the waters for how far he can go. He goes to pull back but she is wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him back for more, their lips crash together in a passionate kiss and as they pull apart again they both whisper the same words “Tuum in aeternum”, their solemn vow to one another to love each other, eternally.

[awkwardauthorwrites]

Jealousy, jealousy

Word Count: 5.5k

Themes: fluff, pining, Sebastian is a bit of an ass. I left Y/N’s house as ambiguous as I could so you can use whichever one you like :)

Warnings: All characters aged up to 18+. Potential spoilers for HL

“You’re staring,” Ominis murmured before letting out a quiet sigh. “Again.”

“She’s talking to Weasley,” Sebastian muttered back, his arms folded across his chest.

“Which one?” he asked, a wry smile slipping into his face. Ominis didn’t need to be able to see to know Sebastian was glaring at him. 

“Garreth, you prat.” A brief silence fell over the pair as Sebastian continued to watch the interaction between Y/N and Garreth Weasley. Y/N threw her head back and laughed at something Garreth said, and Sebastian felt something in his chest tighten as the sun caught on the natural highlights hidden in her hair. “He can’t be that funny.” Garreth muttered something to Y/N and she turned in his direction to catch his eye. He felt every nerve in his body as she smiled sweetly at him and waved her fingers to say hello before looking back at the wizard in front of her. “He’s just using her.”

“How can you be so sure?” Ominis’ eyebrows shot up in surprise as he turned his head to look at Sebastian (he hoped he was, at least).

“Isn’t everyone?” Sebastian asked. Ominis had been there with him that fateful day in the bathrooms. They had both heard what had been said, had both heard the chorus of laughter and agreement that followed.

“Everyone but you, you mean.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ominis,” he looked away from Y/N to narrow his eyes at his friend beside him. “You’re not using her either.”

“Aren’t I?” Ominis asked. There was a beat of silence between them before he laughed loudly at the lack of response from the brunet, and he could almost picture the incredulous look being shot his way.

Sebastian would blame the sun, he decided, if anyone asked why he was frowning in your direction. It had come out today, and the trio had taken advantage of the warmth it provided to sit in the gardens by the north entrance for the castle. It seemed they hadn’t been the only ones to have the idea and it wasn’t long before Y/N had leapt from her position in the grass next to him to greet Natsai Onai and the red-clad gaggle that seemed to follow. Sebastian couldn’t help but begrudge Natty (who was a wonderful witch despite being in Gryffindor) from stealing you away from him. He had been content with your arm pressed against his, your legs touching as you stretched out beside him, head almost resting on his shoulder as you watched the clouds drift by. 

Ominis twirled his wand idly in his hands, the sensor pulsing every-so-often to let him know Sebastian was still brooding beside him. Although he didn’t need it to, because if he listened carefully he could hear Sebastian mutter to himself occasionally as he more than likely watched Y/N from across the gardens. It wasn’t loud enough for Ominis to hear everything he was saying, but he did manage to catch phrases such as stupid Gryffindors and was just going to hold her hand. The latter made Ominis snort in amusement. Sebastian had been working up the courage to admit his feelings for the third member of their little group since the beginning of their sixth year, and now here they were nearing the end of their seventh and final year.

He had tried to tell Sebastian - time and time again - that there was nothing to fear and that he strongly suspected you returned his feelings, but he refused to listen. Ominis wouldn’t outright betray your trust and inform Sebastian of the late night conversations they shared where you voiced your concerns for the brunet, voice tinged with more than just friendly admiration. Instead, he subtly tried to push the pair together with flimsy excuses to explain his perpetual absence. Not that it did any good when either of you refused to acknowledge the Erumpent in the room. 

It could be worse, he mused, I could actually have to witness the pining between them, instead of just hearing about it.

“Get up,” Sebastian nudged Ominis gently and stood up. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going to save Y/N,” Sebastian replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Y/N doesn’t need saving,” Ominis rolled his eyes, but stood up nonetheless, brushing grass from his robes. “In fact, I need to remind you that she has saved us. Several times.”

“Well, call this us returning the favour,” he tugged Ominis in the right direction softly before letting go of his robes and stalking over to where Y/N and Garreth were sat talking, set a little apart from the rest of the Gryffindors. “Y/N…Weasley.” He nodded once at the wizard and came to a stop right next to Y/N. Ominis, wand held aloft, offered the ground an awkward smile. “I can’t believe you left us for a bunch of Gryffindors,” he looked down at her, forcing a chuckle so he didn’t start an inter-house fight. “Are we not enough for you?”

“Don’t start,” Y/N laughed and rolled her eyes at him. “Garreth was just telling me about his newest potion idea.”

“Planning on getting her into more trouble by making her sneak into Sharp’s office for supplies again?” The comment earned Sebastian a nudge in the ribs from Y/N, but Garreth chuckled and shook his head.

“Actually, I was hoping Y/N would accompany me to the Forbidden Forest soon to gather some ingredients.”

“Not man enough to go it alone?” Sebastian nodded thoughtfully. The tips of Garreth’s ears were tinged pink as he looked between the three of them, before an easygoing smile fell across his features. 

“Is that why you keep asking her to join you on trips to spider caves?” Ominis let a laugh slip out at Garreth’s words, and Sebastian shot him a glare for it. Y/N shuffled nervously on her feet between them all, sensing some tension simmering under the surface. She wasn’t sure why they were both standing there, chests puffed out, and had a feeling she didn’t want to know. The only one who didn’t seem to be stancing was Ominis, who looked just as out of place as she felt. 

“I don’t mind going into the forest,” Y/N supplied quietly. Two pairs of eyes shot her way, and Ominis looked a little to her left. “I mean, I need to go anyway. Ms Bugbrooke asked me to go and check in on a unicorn she named Hazel and find a way to keep her safe.”

“I thought we were going to go do that this weekend?” Sebastian asked.

“You could all go,” Ominis supplied. He could feel Y/N relax from beside him, her hand reaching between their robes to squeeze his arm in gratitude. “Saves for multiple trips to the forest.”

“I don’t think that’s wise,” Sebastian frowned, crossing his arms. Garreth gave them all a half-hearted smile and shrugged.

“You let me know, Y/N. I’ve got to get to Charms, I can’t be late again or Ronen will tell my aunt,” he shuddered at the thought and waved goodbye to the three of them before turning to walk away. Y/N offered Garreth a forced smile as he left and waited until he was well out of earshot before whirling around to face Sebastian and hit him with her glove.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Sebastian. It doesn’t become you.”

“Sweetheart, everything becomes me,” he sent her a cocky grin, his body language loosening now that Garreth was gone. “Do you want me to walk you - both of you - to class?” He bent down to pick up her discarded bag and slung it over his shoulder. 

“Don’t change the subject,” she sighed in annoyance, her eyes narrowing. “You always seem to do this whenever I’m speaking to someone.”

“I don’t do it to Poppy, Natty, Imelda, or Ominis.”

“Please, leave me out of this,” Ominis muttered, looking away from them as they began to walk to the castle for class. Even though he knew he couldn’t see it, Sebastian still shot his friend a look as if to say way to back me up, help me out here and hoped he would get the message. The trio walked in silence until they passed the History of Magic classroom.

“Why don’t you let me talk to any of our classmates?”

“You’re talking to me, aren’t you? And you speak to Ominis all the time,” Sebastian gestured at his friend, who cringed internally at being brought back into this. He hoped if he kept silent that they would forget he was there, and perhaps he could sneak off and make it to class on his own. Not that it would do much good - he shared his next class with Y/N, and Sebastian was sure to follow. They had overheard a conversation between her, Imelda, Poppy and Natty about the chivalrous actions some of the wizards at the school took to get the attention of the witches and which ones in particular seemed to charm the girls the most. Ever since then Sebastian had held her school bag and walked her to every class. 

“Stop trying to be charming, Sebastian. I’m annoyed at you.”

“You think I’m charming?” Sebastian grinned down at her, earning a quiet whack as she hit him with her glove again. “Why are you so violent today?”

“Why are you so bothersome today?” she shot back. Ominis smiled to himself and walked a little faster. As much as he enjoyed hearing Y/N rip into Sebastian, he did not want to get caught in the middle. 

Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, trying to fight the chill that lingered in the stone walls after the warmth they had felt outside. Sebastian had been acting differently lately. Some days he was attentive, almost sweet; others like today, he was a nuisance, plain and simple. She never knew who she was going to get - the man who greeted her with coffee and a smile in the mornings, his hand lingering on hers after he handed her the mug, or the sulking mass walking by her. Her eyes fell on his back, watching as his muscles rippled through the white shirt, at her bag hanging on his shoulder.

He never aimed that gruffness in her direction, she realised. Even now, he was holding her bag for her and looked over his shoulder to see if she was still with them, a breathtaking smile falling on his face when he caught her eye. It was only ever when one of their male classmates spoke to her, standing a little too close that he began to act out, and despite his protests that she spoke to Ominis, she had seen him do it with him too. It was to a lesser scale, but even this morning he had placed himself between the pair as they all sat in the sun, his shoulder pressed against hers.

“Why won’t you let me speak to any men?” the words slipped out of her mouth before she could process them. Sebastian came to a stop and looked at her in confusion. She was vaguely aware of Ominis slowing as well from in front of them, a low groan escaping from him. 

“What?”

“That conversation you were having with Garreth wasn’t exactly pleasant, and it’s not the first time this has happened.” Sebastian watched as she twisted her fingers together nervously and longed to take her hand in his. “Don’t you want me to be happy?”

“You think Weasley is going to make you happy?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow.

“I-I don’t know! But how am I meant to find out when you keep…”

“When I keep…?” His casual tone infuriated Y/N, and judging by the amusement in his eye and the twitch in the corner of his mouth, he knew it.

“When you keep acting so possessive!”

“Maybe I’m just a good judge of character and know none of those simpering idiots who keep coming over are enough for you.”

“Enough for me - ” Ire flared at his words and she gave him a withering look. “You have some nerve, Sebastian Sallow. And you,” she glared at Ominis, who had the decency to look a little frazzled at her anger. “I expected better from you, you’re always by his side whenever this happens. Care to explain yourself?” Ominis shook his head slowly and backed away a few steps as Sebatian came forward.

“Don’t take it out on him, he had no part in this.”

“Good to know the stupidity started and ended with you, then,” Y/N snapped. She turned her back on him and walked a few steps away to calm down. “Why do you always do this to me, Sebastian? Give me one good reason why you keep acting out like this.”

“I’m only looking out for your best interests. You need someone who will challenge you,” Sebastian stood taller, annoyance flashing in his eyes. “Not a lapdog who will roll over every time you call their name. You need an equal.” Ominis grimaced at his best friend's words and slowly began to back away. He didn’t make it too far before someone bumped into him, pausing to listen to the argument occurring in the hallway.

“Who are you to presume anything about my happiness?” Y/N stalked forward to poke Sebastian in the chest roughly. “Who would even fit within your insane standards for me? Who would challenge me, make me happy, treat me as their equal?” she asked, all but spitting the words at him. “You?”

“Maybe.” Sebastian shrugged, not quite meeting her eye as he shuffled between his feet nervously.

“You…” Y/N let out an incredulous laugh. “You’re something else, Sallow.” In all the times Y/N had imagined Sebastian admitting he may return his feelings for her it never went like this, in a corridor attracting the attention of their classmates with their fight. “I have done nothing but wait for you to notice me for two years, Sebastian. And when I finally realise you’ll never see me the way I want and decide to move on, that’s when you’re determined to want me?”

“I don’t just want you,” his voice was hoarse with her declaration. Two years? How could she not see that I’ve noticed her, that I've only ever noticed her? How could this have gone wrong so fast. 

“You’re nothing but a jealous coward.” With one final poke to the chest, Y/N took her bag and started to walk away from him and the little crowd that had gathered.

“You think I don’t know how selfish I’m being?” Sebastian called out, suddenly finding his voice. He followed her path, near enough pushing anyone aside who stood in his way. “I would give anything - anything - to go back to that day we first met. Back when all you were was Atë personified, before I realised how absolutely breathtaking every inch of your soul is. You’ve ruined me, Y/N!”

“And that’s my fault?”

“I’m not saying that!” Sebastian groaned and reached for the sleeve of her robe to pull her to a stop. He quickly rescinded his hand when she shot him a menacing glare as if to say I dare you.

“Then what are you saying?” she asked. Doubt clutched him, stopping the words from leaving his mouth. He must have waited a beat too long to respond because Y/N sighed, and the disappointment on her face was enough to bring him to his knees as she continued to walk away from him, the students they had attracted parting to let her through. She had made it halfway down the corridor when sharp panic squeezed his chest tightly.

“I’m in love with you!” he shouted after her. His face flamed at the confession, at the sudden whispers of those around him as his words echoed down the stone corridor. Y/N stopped, and for a second Sebastian felt hope that she would turn around and say she loved him too. That it was him she wanted, who she always wanted.

“Well, you have a funny way of showing it.” He watched in despair as she walked away from him, slipping through the doors that would take her into another hall. There was a dull roaring in his ears, drowning out the sudden whispers that had started around him. A gentle hand landed on his shoulder and he looked over slowly to see Ominis, a grim look on his face. Sebastian couldn’t bear to see the sympathy in his gaze, to hear the voices around him talking about his rejected confession. 

“All right, show’s over!” he growled, shaking Ominis’ hand from his shoulder. “Everyone clear off.” He rolled his shoulders and stood a little straighter before stalking down the corridor. The younger students jumped out of his way, and he caught the looks of pity from those in his year. Poppy tried to step forward and speak to him, but he just shook his head at her and walked out of the hall and made his way to the Undercroft. 

*~*~*~*~*

It had been nearly a week since Y/N and Sebastian’s argument in the middle of the hallway and she could still hear people whisper about it as she walked by, as if she couldn’t hear a word they were saying. A group of Ravenclaws were sitting at a table in the library near Y/N, Poppy and Imelda, and every-so-often they looked over and started to giggle. 

“Just ignore them,” Poppy murmured to her.

“No,” Imelda glared at the group, who immediately quieted down and looked away. “They need to learn to keep their mouths shut, or I’ll do it for them.” She raised her voice just enough for them to hear her threat and they quickly packed their things and left in a flurry of navy robes. 

“You can’t threaten everyone in the school, Imelda,” Y/N said with a sigh, not looking up from her Charms textbook. Another group would soon come and replace that one, and the cycle would just repeat itself. 

“Watch me.” Her grin was unnerving to say the least. “What’s he doing in here?” Y/N looked up to see Sebastian walking up the stairs into the upper part of the library where they were currently sitting. He looked around, a little unsure of himself and Y/N’s heart clenched in her chest at the sight. He always looked so confident, even when he was utterly terrified, but now he just looked lost. “He better not come over here.”

“Imelda,” Poppy sighed and shook her head. “We don’t even know if he’s here for Y/N, he could be here to study.” Even though Poppy was right, Y/N couldn’t help but wish that he was here for her, that he wanted to speak to her.

“No you don’t, wipe that look off your face,” Imelda pointed her quill at Y/N. “Don’t go mooning over him after what he’s put you through. You don’t need someone who’s going to treat you that poorly.”

“He doesn’t exactly look great himself.”

“Who’s side are you on, Sweeting?”

“I didn’t realise there were any.” Y/N rolled her eyes as the pair continued to bicker, her gaze turning back to Sebastian, who had turned in their direction as he heard Poppy and Imelda arguing. He caught her eye and began to slowly make his way to their table, casting a weary glance at Imelda as he neared.

“What do you want, Sallow?” Imelda snapped at him, turning on him as he got closer.

“Hello, Sebastian, are you alright?” Poppy nudged her in reprimand and offered him an awkward smile.

“I-I’d like to speak to Y/N, if that’s okay,” he asked, not quite looking at any of them. 

“Come to shout more declarations of love in my face?” It was a low blow, and Y/N knew it. She watched as he flinched slightly and looked away from her, his shoulders slumped in defeat. She was vaguely aware of Poppy grabbing onto Imelda’s robes to pull her away while the latter protested as she stared at him. There were dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in days, and his shirt and robes were rumpled. “Sit down,” she muttered, closing her book. “You look like you’re about to pass out from exhaustion.” 

Sebastian listened, his hands running through his hair as he slumped down into a seat. He looked awful, Y/N noted, eyes wandering over his frame. It went beyond the creased clothes and the lack of sleep. He looked paler, and Y/N watched as he sighed heavily and rubbed a hand down his face. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I went too far.” There was a different level of weariness in his voice, it went down to his bones, his very soul. The man in front of her was not the one she had fallen for. Her heart ached as he looked up at her slowly with dull eyes. “I always go too far.”

“You do,” she murmured. His eyes slid shut at her words and he braced himself for a blow that wasn’t coming. “And yet, somehow, I always forgive you for it.” She hated admitting it out loud, but once her rage had simmered and the adrenaline had left her a few hours after their fight, she had forgiven him. She could never stay mad at him for long. Even after their only other argument that had happened in the Undercroft years ago when he had called her ignorant for trusting a goblin and stormed out she hadn’t been hurt or angry, just concerned for him.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“No, you don’t.” She waited until he looked at her before giving him a small, teasing smile. They stared at each other for a few seconds in silence, each drinking in the different ways the other had changed in the past few days until Y/N sighed and looked away again. “I’m not an object to be possessed, Sebastian. You can’t just stake your claim on me.”

“I never…I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be like this. I just…” he sighed and tried to sit a little straighter in his seat. Y/N waited patiently for him to finish his sentence, waited as the wheels turned in his head and he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. He looked at her from the corner of his eye, his heart constricting in his chest and he saw the matching dark rings under her eyes. 

“I’m not going to fight you, Sebastian,” Y/N said gently, reaching his hand. She stopped before she could touch it and instead started to fiddle with the quill Poppy had left behind. “You can say what you need to.”

“It’s not pleasant.”

“None of this has been.”

“No, it hasn’t,” he smiled without humour and finally looked her in the eye. “Ominis and I once heard a conversation in the bathroom. I don’t think they realised we were in there, and they were gone before we could confront them. They were talking about you. About how they wanted to spend time with you and ask you to accompany them - alone, might I add - to the Three Broomsticks so that they could be seen with the Hero of Hogwarts.” Sebastian all but spat the nickname out, hating it in that moment. “They all left before I could see who they were. Ever since then I’ve stood between you and anyone who looked like they were trying to express interest because I didn’t know who was genuine and who was just using you.”

“Garreth…” Sebastian hated himself for being the one to break the news, for putting that heartbroken expression on her face. Y/N felt her stomach churn in revulsion and grief. She wasn’t stupid, she knew there were people in the school who only wanted to be seen with her because of what she was as opposed to who she was. She knew some of the requests she politely turned down for company and a drink in Hogsmeade weren’t out of attraction, but rather a ploy to get into her graces. She never suspected Garreth would be one of them. She was hurt - not because she had feelings for him, but because she had thought they were friends. 

“No, I made a mistake with him.” He pulled a face as he admitted he was wrong. “It turns out he actually wants to get to know you - the real you.” Oh. Oh. Y/N felt her face flush and Sebastian looked away. He couldn’t bear to watch her blush over Garreth Weasley, or anyone, for that matter. 

“What about you?” 

“What about me?”

“Your delivery was less than ideal but…did you mean it? Do you mean it?” she asked nervously, her voice no more than a whisper. Sebastian hated the look on her face, hated seeing her so unsure of herself.  

“Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since our fifth year.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” he held a hand out for hers, letting her make the decision if she wanted to take it or not. A few seconds passed, and he was just about to rescind the offer, when she shyly placed her hand in his. He squeezed her hand gently, his thumb brushing her knuckles as he tried not to think about how perfectly her hand fit in his. “It means that I want you to be happy,” he murmured, “and if Weasley makes you happy - or anyone else who wishes to genuinely court you - I’ll take a step back.”

It hurt him to say the words out loud, to voice the possibility that after all this she wouldn’t want him anymore. Not the way she had once, the way he currently still wanted her. He let her collect her thoughts, watched as she chewed on her lower lip. 

“What if…what if I don’t want you to?” Y/N asked, voice so quiet he almost missed it. 

Sebastian’s heart stuttered at the blush that rose to her cheeks, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, to be the only one that made her blush like that ever again. For the rest of their lives. The thought startled him slightly, but he realised it was true. He wasn’t saying he wanted to marry her (although, a rather enticing image of Y/N floating down the aisle to him in a white dress did flash to mind), but he wanted to stay by her side. Whether that was in a friendly capacity or more. Merlin, did he hope it was more. 

“I meant what I said too, about waiting for you to notice me,” she continued. 

“Darling, I’ve not noticed anyone else since the day I met you.” He brushed his thumb across the back of her hand again and squeezed it gently before pressing a kiss to her knuckles. He watched in satisfaction as her blush deepened, and tried to read the flicker of emotions that passed across her face. “I’m more than aware my confession was…something, to say the least (Y/N rolled her eyes at this) but I meant what I said. I’m in love with you, Y/N Y/L/N. I have been for a while now.” She looked away, unable to handle the deep emotions swirling in his eyes, that are written clearly on his face for anyone to see. She didn’t doubt for a second that he was telling the truth. “I don’t expect you to say it back.”

“I…I’m not good with all of this. I can’t quite say if it’s love but…” Her face burns, and she feels as if it will be a permanent shade of red after this conversation. “I am entranced by you, Sebastian Sallow. I’ve never been in love before, never felt it in anything more than a friendly capacity, but with you…it’s different. It runs far deeper than I can explain.” She presses a hand to her chest, right above her heart that is beating so hard it’s a wonder he can’t hear it. “I can’t picture my life without you in it, whether that is as a friend or more.”

Y/N doesn’t know how else to put it into words. She can’t seem to say that it’s been him from the very beginning. From the moment she beat him in their first duel and he was thrilled instead of being put out she knew she was in trouble. She’d only fallen faster and harder since then, from their first trip to Hogsmeade where he flirted with her the whole way, until the day his uncle had died and she had talked Ominis out of sending him to Azkaban. 

“You don’t need to say it back,” Sebastian repeated, his grip on her hand tightening as he took note of the adoration in her eyes. “I mean, how could you not be in love with me?” Y/N laughed loudly before clapping her hand over her mouth suddenly. They waited with baited breath for Scribner to come and reprimand them, only relaxing when they couldn’t hear her making her way up the stairs. 

“You have to apologise to Garreth.” Sebastian groaned at her words, but there was a smile on his face that he couldn’t quite hide from her. Already he looked better. He still needed a good night’s sleep, in Y/N’s opinion, but life was returning to his eyes and he sat a little straighter, a little taller. 

“Where does this leave us?” he asked, shuffling his chair closer to hers so their knees could press together under the table. He hooked one foot under her ankle and tangled their legs together, enjoying the look on her face as he did so. 

“I’m still mad at you. But knowing you did this to be noble…to protect me. That lessens the blow.” She gently squeezed his leg between hers, grinning to herself as she watched him take his turn to blush. “I do hope you know I don’t need protection though.”

“My still-healing ego from our first Defence Against the Dark Arts class together remembers.” 

He’s rewarded with her laugh again, her real one, and he makes a silent promise to make her laugh the same way every day for the rest of their lives. Every muscle in his body loosens at the sound, and he feels like he can finally breathe again when she grins at him and tugs him a little closer by his tie.

“If you ever pull a stunt like this again…” Although there was still a smile on her face, the threat was evident in her eyes. He nodded quickly, throat bobbing as she twirled his tie between her fingers and let go. She watches as he looks down at her lips nervously and gratification shot her through as his face slowly flushed. A smirk falls on her face at this, and she raises an eyebrow at him when he finally looks up to meet her gaze. “Feeling a little warm?”

“What, no.” He leans back and rubs the back of his neck, his blush deepening.

“Ah, so you’re just blushing like a third year at the thought of kissing me.”

“I’m not blushing.”

“So you want to kiss me?”

“Darling, I always want to kiss you.” The look he gives her makes her stomach flip.  “Can I…”

“Not until you ask me properly.”

“To kiss you?”

“Sebastian.”

“Alright, alright, fine,” he grins, loving the way she rolls her eyes at him. “Will you do me the honour of joining me on a trip to Hogsmeade?”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

“Sebastian, it’s nearly curfew.”

“And when has that stopped you before?” he laughs and begins to gather her things into her bag before slinging it over his shoulder. He holds a hand out to her expectantly and waits until she grabs a hold of it before they leave the library, waving goodbye at Imelda and Poppy (who are doing their very best - and failing - to eavesdrop). They make it as far as the doors that lead to the greenhouses when Sebastian pulls her under the stairs, ensuring no one can see them as they dip into one of the shadows. She meets him halfway, pressing their lips together in a long overdue kiss. 

“Do you have any final demands for this? For us?” he murmurs against her lips. 

“Only one.” Her fingers run through his hair and his heart stutters in his chest. “I’m never going to make this easy for you. I'm going to challenge you every day for the rest of our lives.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”