fo0f21

[rigrub]

Sebastian, admiring MC: she could slap me across the face and I'd still thank her

Ominis: I'd thank her too

[choccy-milky]

✨ pokémon AU! 🔴✨ clora is mainly fairy & psychic (bc shes sweet but also smart) whereas seb trends towards fire/dark (even tho i only ended up giving him 1 dark pokemon...shhh) i originally gave him a houndour, bc dark + guard dog was such a perfect combo for him, but arcanine ALSO suits him and is way cuter so i had to go with that 🥹 and i had to fit in a raven and a snake pokemon somewhere bc...cmon🥰 BAHAHA

TYSM to the anon who inspired this!! it was so much fun

[elinoracia]

🌹Your heart // Garreth Weasley x f!reader🌹

~ Hogwarts Legacy fanfic ~

Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, mention of blood, fighting, not proofread. Total of words: 2.8K

More informations: - All characters are aged up to 18 y.o. or more; 7th year - Y/N = Your name - My first language is not english, sorry in advance - Feel free to request anything!

Context: After everything that happened during 5th year, you needed some calm. You needed a friendship where you could forget about your problems, your dangerous adventures and difficult days. Luckily, Garreth was that person. He brought you that calm and that light-hearted and carefree fun that you desperately craved. But with your precarious lifesyle, always out fighting poachers or evil forces, you were scared to let yourself feel more for him.

------------------------------

You just got back from one of your many adventures with Sebastian. You had to fight poachers. You were tired and you could not wait to go back to your dorm to clean yourself and sleep. On your way, in the hallways, you came across Garreth.

Garreth: *he walks towards you, staring at you* Are you trying a new look? *he chuckles, obviously very proud of his teasing* Y/N: *you chuckle weakly* Do I really look that dreadful? Garreth: Well...the whole "tired" look really suits you! *he chuckles and looks back at you* But really, what happened? Who did you fight this time? *he said with a slightly worried look on his face* Y/N: Poachers. Sebastian really wanted to beat them all. He has way more energy than I do. *you give him a faint smile* Garreth: *he frowns at your comment* I don't think your adventures with Sallow are really healthy for you and your body. Why don't you let him do those kind of things alone? Y/N: *You look at him, trying to formulate an answer* I...I don't want him to get hurt. I know I can't stop him from going, so I can at least follow him to cover his back.

But Garreth was right and you knew it. You could not keep up with Sebastian's reckless behavior for too much longer. You had important exams coming up and you were exhausted. But you feared Sebastian was going to get badly injured if you were not here to help him. You couldn't loose more people you loved, you had to protect him, even from himself.

Garreth: *now he was really worried about you. He looked as if he was about to scold you for trying to save Sebastian from his incautious battles, but he didn't* Listen, you can't keep doing that. That's all I'm saying. Y/N: *you sigh deeply* I know. I'm sorry Garreth. I didn't mean to worry you. Garreth: Just don't do anything too reckless. That's for the Gryffindors to do! *he says proudly* Y/N: *You giggle at his joke. You feel a little better after talking to him. He always makes you feel better after a hard time* Thank you Garreth. I think I needed to talk about it. I promise I'll be more careful! Goodnight!

As you went back to your dorm, your heart felt lighter. You knew you could always come to Garreth to talk to him about anything and he would always crack some jokes and make you feel brand new.

--------------------------------

The next day, Sebastian came to ask you to go on a special mission with him. He wanted to explore a cave he found. You thought about what Garreth told you but you could not let Sebastian do that alone. You told yourself it was the last time you agreed to do that for him.

You went after lunch to see what cave Sebastian was talking about. Far into the Forbidden Forest, you see a huge hole on the side of a mountain. Sebastian was explaining to you how he discovered that place but you almost couldn't hear him. It's like everything about that place was begging you to leave.

You should have listened to your insincts.

When you got out of that cave, the sky was dark and starry. Sebastian was almost carrying you. You came across poachers, trolls, dark mages and giant spiders. You did everything you could to not let them hurt Sebastian. But you let them hurt you instead. You just wanted to go back to Hogwarts. You just...wanted him to comfort you.

Garreth.

What will he think? Maybe he'll hate you for getting hurt and acting recklessely. Maybe he'll finally be done with your behavior. You can't tell him what happened. You can't but...you feel so helpless, so alone. You feel like you have to protect everyone but nobody wants to protect you.

Sebastian brings you back to your dorm but you were almost frozen in front of the door. Your wounds were hurting but not as bad as that pain in your heart.

You just want to feel Garreth next to you. You just want him near. But you're a danger to yourself...and to him. Suddenly, you hear footsteps behind you. When you turn around, you see in the dark the shadow of a person.

Y/N: Garreth, is that you? *your voice almost cracking* Garreth: Y/N! Where were you? I've been looking for you all day! You- *he suddenly stops as he notices blood on your shirt and robe. He then noticed the wounds on you* What happened?! Are you alright? Y/N: *You couldn't look at him. You couldn't bear to see the look on his face* I'm fine. Garreth: Please Y/N... let me help you at least. You're bleeding on your clothes. Y/N: It's not my blood...mostly. *your hands started shaking* I'm very sorry. *your words were muffled and you felt tears running down your face* I'm...so terribly sorry Garreth... *you let out a sob and you finally look at him* I just wanted to protect him...And I just want to protect you. But I always end up being just a burden to you.

Without realizing it, Garreth took you in his arms. He was careful not to hug you too tightly. As you were hugging him, you could hear his heart beating a little faster.

Garreth: *He seemed clearly taken aback by what you said* That couldn't be further from the truth! You're never a burden. I just want you to be safe. *he pauses for a moment* Do you really think you are a burden to me? Y/N: I make you worry all the time and I feel like I only bring you bad things. And...*you sniffle* it's so unfair to you because you're bringing me so much peace and warmth. Garreth: Y/N look at me. *he gently lift your chin to make you look at him* I can live with the worry. But I can't live without you. You're my best friend and being with you makes me happy. Now stop the Hufflepuff tears. *hegently wipes some tears off your face* Y/N: I don't what what I would do without you Garreth. *you smile at him, feeling a little better already* And those are not Hufflepuff tears! *you chuckle at his teasing* Garreth: Honestly, I think I'll need to have a friendly little chat with Sallow. Don't worry, I won't fight him...unless he tries to! Y/N: Please don't fight with him. And I can talk to him myself. He will understand. Garreth: Now you're no fun!

-----------------------------

Following this night, you had time to think about what you were going to say to Sebastian. It was not going to be easy but you had to tell him you couldn't come with him anymore.

The next day, you waited for Sebastian after your second class of the day to talk to him. You knew you both had a free period after that. It was the perfect time to tell him.

Y/N: Seb! Hi! What did you think of our History of Magic class? *you giggle, knowing he fell asleep during that class* Sebastian: I wish I could tell you but I can only remember what I dreamt about. *he said jokingly* Did you want to tell me something? Y/N: Y-yes! *you feel a rush of anxiety inside your chest* I...Well...You know how last time, our little "adventure" ended up really dangerous? Sebastian: Merlin's beard! Are you still hurt? *he cups your cheeks with his hand, a worried look on his face* Did it leave any nasty scars? Y/N: *the sudden contact make you stutter* I-I...no! Don't worry! I'm fine, really! Sebastian: Good! What a relief! I think I would have died if you weren't there. *he chuckles, not knowing the impact of his words* Y/N: Y-yeah...probably...

You instantaneously feel remorse about letting him do those things alone. You just can't. He needs you. You can handle being badly injured, as long if it's not him who's hurt. But you keep thinking about Garreth. He also needs you safe. Your heart is torn between these two choices.

Sebastian: Y/N? Are you sure you're okay? You look troubled. *he says, still cupping your cheeks with his hands* What was it you wanted to say to me? Y/N: I...I'm not sure that...I can keep doing that with you. I'm sorry... *you said, almost whispering. You were scared about what his answer would be* Sebastian: *He pauses to think and then takes both of your hands in his* Y/N...I can't do it alone. Don't give up on me. Y/N: I...

You didn't how to respond to that. He was right but...you have to do what's right.

But as you were about to answer Sebastian, you suddenly feel his hands leaving yours abruptly. You feel pushed towards something.

Garreth: You can't take "no" for an answer Sallow? Leave her alone. *he frowns. You never saw that side of Garreth before* You don't deserve her.

Sebastian looks at him, he seemed really annoyed by Garreth's presence. You were in shook. What was Garreth doing here? Was he watching you talking to Sebastian?

Sebastian: What are you talking about Weasley? I know her better than you. I know that she and I make the best team. Garreth: Do you? Do you really know her? Do you even know in how much distress you left her the last time you took her on your stupid escapade? You don't! *he takes a deep breath to calm himself down* You may know her for longer than I do but I know her heart. I worry about her. I want her to be safe. It looks like you don't even care how she might feel!

Garreth was holding you close to him. His breath was heavy. You couldn't believe what was happening in front of your eyes. But you couldn't seem to say anything. The words were stuck in your thoat.

Sebastian then takes your wrist and pull you away from Garreth.

Sebastian: *he then holds Garreth by the collar, enraged by what he just said* You don't know her like I do! We help eachother, we need eachother! Y/N: Okay now that's enough! What has gotten into you Sebastian?!

You put you hand on Sebastian's shoulder to try and calm him down. You knew how he could be. Always acting on his feelings and thinking about it later.

Y/N: I just don't want to carry the responsability of your safety everytime Sebastian. But it doesn't mean we're not friends anymore. You're still one of my dearest friends. But you have to be more careful. If not for you then please, I'm begging you, do it for me. *you look at him, hoping he would understand* Sebastian: *he sighs and let go of Garreth* I promise you I'll be more careful. I had no idea you felt that way. Garreth: Maybe if you were looking outside of yourself for once, you would have noticed. Y/N: Garreth, you've done enough. *you look at him with a piercing gaze* We have to talk. *you look back at Sebastian* See you later Sebastian.

You take Garreth's hand to lead him somewhere quiet, somewhere empty and unoccupied.

Y/N: Garreth, did I not tell you I could handle this by myself? *you frown, obviously angry* Garreth: Sorry, my Gryffindor heroic nature took over. *he chuckles* Y/N: That is really not funny at all! Why did you feel the need to intervene?

A moment of silence fell as you watched Garreth carefully. You could not believe he didn't trust you to tell your decision yourself to Sebastian. Then you hear him take a deep breath before answering your question.

Garreth: I feel like Sebastian has that power over you. He just has to look you in the eyes and take your hand to convince you to do something for him. Something that's only profitable to him and him only. I hated...*he stops for a moment* I hated the way he touched you. And I despised the way he tried to convince you. He has no right to do that. Y/N: What? Why do you care if he touches me or if he tries to convince me? I know what I want Garreth. And I told him I would never try to do anything dangerous with him again. Don't you trust me? Garreth: I trust you! But I don't trust him. You went through enough because of him. *he then looks at you with a look you can't exactly describe* And I care because...you're my best friend. Y/N: Garreth... *you sigh and calm down. He was right, he knew how to calm you down* You're right. I'm sorry. Garreth: And instead of going on dangerous adventures with him, you could spend more time with your best friend who's really handsome and funny. I heard he is also very entertaining and fun to be around. I wonder who this gentleman could be? *he chuckles and winks at you* Y/N: He is also very humble. A typical Gryffindor trait. *you laugh and look at him* But more seriously, you're amazing. I don't know how you can still tolerate me. I'm such a mess. Garreth: And how on earth do you still put up with me?! *he throws the question back at you, grinning mischievously* And I don't "tolerate" you Y/N. I adore you. If you're a mess then you are my kind of mess. And it doesn't hurt that I have plenty of patience. *he adds with a hint of a chuckle to his voice* Y/N: Very modest of you. *you giggle* And I adore you too.

At this moment, you felt something you tried to repress for so long. You couldn't stop looking at him, looking at his beautiful features. He was so much taller than you. You just loved his ginger curls and his beautiful freckles. You also love the way he is always there to lift your mood.

You...love him.

The sudden realisation made your cheeks redden. Is that how you felt for all this time? You started to become nervous. Oh Merlin! He could not know! You don't want to ruin your friendship. Just suck it up!

Garreth: Then I guess we've got ourselves some pretty good reasons for not driving each other mad!*he says with another laugh*

Then, Garreth takes a few steps closer to you and kisses your forehead. Your face immediately became bright red. Garreth took notice of that.

Garreth: What's the matter pretty lady? Do you need to cool down a little? *he said teasingly, grinning at you* Y/N: Stop teasing me Garreth! *you say with your face burning up* Garreth: I can't help it! Seeing you blush and all flustered is just... so cute. I love that I can have that effect on you. *he says playfully, a smirk on his face* Y/N: You...don't know the effect you have on me. Garreth: *he grins wider* Then enlighten me, Y/N. How exactly does your best bud have an effect on you? *He teased, putting on a cocky grin as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pull you a little bit closer to him* Y/N: *Your heart was beating so fast. You were trying to give him an answer without stumbling over your words* W-well...I think I might have...feelings for you. *you could feel your heart jumping in your throat* Garreth: *Your words sent a shock like a bolt through his body. His jaw dropped, and for a moment, he was entirely at a loss for words. He was looking at you with wide eyes, as if I've never really seen you properly before.* Wait... seriously? *he asks, his voice a breathless whisper, and a grin spreading across his face* Y/N: *you nod in response* Mh mh...

Your answer gave him all the courage he needed. Without another second of hesitation, he leans in and kisses you full on the lips. He holds the kiss just for a moment and then I pull back with a grin, blushing profusely.

Garreth: Being friends is nice but...do you think you'd want more? *he asks, still holding you against him* Y/N: Y-yes...I want us to be more. *You said with your flushed face and your panting breath* Garreth: Well, it's official then! You're mine! *he gins* Now I have a good reason for Sallow to not put his dirty filthy hands on you. Y/N: You're such a dork. *you said, a chuckle in your voice* Garreth: I'm your dork! Y/N: *you sigh* I love you.

The End

This fanfic is dedicated to @sallowslytherin, my little Garreth lover ˋ( ° ▽、° )

[babygaunt]

This queen is savage and 💯 accurate 👻☠️🙈

Thanks to sebastian to help us learning dark magic 🪄🌠💀👻☠️best survivor tools more than anything in game 🍻

But looks at Ominis 🧸🧸🔪🙈

Source: @ouweea she is Queen and she knows it well 🙈🧸🍻🏆🔱👸

[blueseachelle]

Hate

Sebastian Sallow X MC! Slytherin! Reader

WARNINGS:

Angst

Tears will fall

Depression mentioned

Summary: After Y/n defeated Ranrok, she chose to take the power for herself before Sebastian dived into the darkness. She sacrificed so much just to be cast aside. Will Sebastian realize what he has done to her or will it be to late? Will his dream of his trio being back together blind him from the truth?

I wanted to write angst. So, I decided to write this while playing angst music at 2 am. In this scenario, Solomon never died. MC beat Ranrok before Sebastian dove too far into the dark arts. For the sake of this piece, that's how it's gonna be. Please enjoy.

The fifth year has ended.

Lots have happened since Y/n started at Hogwarts. Ancient Magic, the Defeat of Ranrok, the death of her beloved Professor Fig, etc.

The magic Y/n now held in her body was simmering. She would sit in class, staring into space. The magic just buzzed in the back of her head like static. It never let up.

Of course, Sebastian Sallow was more than ecstatic at her recent development. He knew she could cure Anne. All he had to do was take Y/n to Anne and that's that. Easy, right?

Y/n watched as her roommates pack their items in preparation to leave for their families. She just sat there. She had nowhere to go. Professor Fig was her only family. He was like a father figure to her.

She thought about the past. Why did she decide to put herself into this mental hell? Oh yeah. To cure Anne. For Sebastian. She didn't want to do this for herself. Hell, she would have trapped that magic in that goblin silver container for the rest of eternity. But, of course, she has to help others. Not herself.

Y/n sighed. Her roommates bid each other and her goodbye as they rushed to their awaiting families. She just nodded in acknowledgment.

Just then, an owl flew into the window to her. In its talons held a letter. She watched the paper fall into her hands. It was from Sebastian.

The urge to just Confringo the damned letter rushed over her, instead, she opened it.

Dear Y/n,

I don't know what you were planning to do this summer break but, I would like to discuss some options with you. Ominis and I will be waiting for you in the Undercroft. Please don't tarry long. Ominis has to leave for his family soon. So, do I.

Sebastian

Y/n felt her eyes water. She held the letter away from her and burnt it in her hand with a wandless Confringo. She learned how to do this after she gained this horrid power. She blinked back her tears and stood up and put her green and black robe on. She left for the undercroft.

_-_-_-_-_-_

The magic in the back of her head seemed to buzz louder and louder as she made her way. She couldn't think anymore.

She finally made it to the clock. She waved her hand at it and entered after it opened.

"I don't know, Sebastian. She hasn't been answering all that much. She probably won't show."

"Oh shove it, Ominis. She will. Trust me."

Just then, Y/n walked into the open space. Sebastian turned to her. He smiled at her. She just looked at him with a blank stare.

"See, Ominis. She made it. Told you so."

Ominis ignored the brunette and "looked" the Slytherin girl,

"How are you, Y/n? Doing good I hope. No one's heard from you since... Ya know."

Y/n just stared blankly for a second before replying,

"I've been fine."

Ominis nodded and crossed his arms. He felt something off in her aura. Something sinister radiated off of her. What happened to her after she saved the school? Did Ranrok do something to her in the final battle?

Ominis worried for her. He cares for her and wanted to... to be okay.

Sebastian stepped a little closer. Looking carefully into her eyes. He could sense what Ominis was feeling as well. Her eyes would reveal all, he knew it.

Now, this is where things get slightly frazzled in Y/n's mind. Her eyes stared into his. All the memories that she shared with him surfaced. All the little touches. Sebastian and her escapades in the Forbidden Forest. The first kiss they shared after finding out that she could help Anne by using Isidora's magic that stems from Ancient Magic.

Y/n knows that he doesn't care what she had to sacrifice to help him cure Anne. Her sanity is gone. Peace is but a dream now. Nothing can help the buzzing in her head. After the passing of Professor Fig, she has been reevaluating all her relationships. Her connection to Sebastian revealed itself to her. She knew the only reason he wants her so close is to cure Anne. That's it. To make the past come back. The trio to be together again.

Y/n moved her eyes from Sebastian's to look to Ominis,

"What did you want to discuss?"

Sebastian came out of his trance by clearing his throat,

"I wanted to ask you if you wanted to spend the summer with me in Fieldcroft? Just hang out all summer with Anne and me. Ominis will visit often, of course. And, I don't know, you could heal Anne while you're there?"

The buzz became deafening. Y/n's anger built up. Her eyes darkened more than they already were. Her eyes were now a dull ice-blue color, emotionless. She breathed out a slight sigh.

"Fine. I'll visit in a few days."

Sebastian looked at her, crossing his arms,

"Why don't we go now? Everyone else is leaving today as well. We'll be there super fast since we have a floo fire there. It shouldn't be that long to pack either-"

Y/n swiftly turned and glared at him,

"I SAID, I will be there in a few days. Safe travels."

With that, she walked out of the Undercroft.

Sebastian looked to Ominis, in shock at the outburst. Ominis sighed,

"Something happened in her fight against Ranrok. Other than the death of a loved one, of course. I'll be there to check on you three very often. Mostly to check on Y/n."

Sebastian crossed his arms,

"Don't you want to visit more to check on Anne at all? Or this little crush caught ahold of you?"

Ominis felt Sebastian's defensiveness. Ominis shook his head at him,

"I understand now. Anyway, I'll visit soon. I'll write at least."

With that, Ominis apparated away. Leaving Sebastian to his thoughts. What did Ominis mean? Why is Y/n acting weird? So many questions yet, none can be answered.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It's been a couple days since Sebastian went home to Fieldcroft. He awaited Y/n's arrival. He was getting more and more impatient. He knew she was the only way to heal Anne. He needed to prove his uncle wrong. He needs to give Anne a second chance. He needed his trio back. Even if it kills him.

Sebastian wrote Y/n a number of times yet, no response. He then would write to Ominis, complaining about the situation with the blonde Slytherin girl. Ominis always responded because well, it kept him away from his family.

After another day, Y/n arrived. She didn't bring anything with her. No point. She was just planning to heal Anne and disappear. Let Sebastian have the trio he wished for. How it's supposed to be.

Y/n slowly walked to the little house Sebastian resided in. She made it to the door and took a deep breath before knocking.

Not even in a second's time, Sebastian opened the door. He smiled his normal dimpled smile. He stepped to side,

"Hello, Y/n! We've been expecting you. Come in."

So, now, she was treated like a stranger. Great. She stepped into the house and was instantly greeted with a hug from Anne. She hugged the girl back. The brunette girl looked at her,

"It's been a while! How have you been, Y/n? Feeling better?"

Y/n just nodded. Anne released her and gestured to the chair at the table,

"Please sit. Make yourself fell at home!"

Y/n sat down at the table. Sebastian sat in the chair next to her as Anne sat across from them. Solomon peaked his head from the doorway of the kitchen to the small dining room,

"Hello, Y/n! Dinner is almost finished."

Y/n looked to him.

"Hello. Thank you for letting me visit."

Solomon smiled slightly before disappearing from sight.

Sebastian cleared his throat,

"So, how have your last few days been in isolation?"

Y/n just glanced at him slightly,

"Fine. Did some reading."

Anne nodded,

"I heard you are more than special, Y/n. Sebastian told me all about your abilities."

Here we go. Y/n just nodded. Just then, Solomon came in with bowls,

"I made some soup. Eat up."

He set them in front of everyone. He sat down as well to eat the dinner he prepared.

As everyone else chatted at the table, Y/n stared into her bowl. She took a couple bites here and there. The buzzing seemed to be a little more prominent than normal.

"-You see, Anne. I saw something that I think I found a cure, possibly."

Solomon sighed,

"Not this again. You know nothing works."

Sebastian locked eyes with the older man,

"I KNOW this will work. I have no doubts. Y/n is the cure."

Anne gasped and looked at the blonde girl. Y/n just kept her eyes down.

Solomon slammed his hand on the table,

"See! Look at what you've done. You gave Anne hope in something that isn't going to work! Stop this at once!"

Sebastian stood with his hands on the table,

"This is something to have hope in! I know this will work! I saw it myself! Now,"

Sebastian's gaze switched to Y/n,

"Do it! Heal Anne! Prove Uncle wrong!"

Y/n looked at Anne,

"Do you consent for me to try?"

Anne looked between Sebastian and Solomon. She didn't know what to do. She took a breath,

"Do it."

Solomon's eyes widened as Sebastian gained a smirk.

Y/n held her hand out and closed her eyes. She channeled her buzzing throughout her body. Slowly, from Anne's chest, A mixture of green and red magic formed in a ball. The ball slowly moved its way across the table into the blonde Slytherin's hand.

After a couple seconds, green faded from Anne's chest. The ball now was completely only with Y/n. It suddenly forced itself into her palm and she felt everything cycle through her body. The emotions caused by this curse filled Y/n's body. She kept an unfazed physic as Anne confirmed that the curse was lifted.

Sebastian was the first to hug Anne with tears running down his face. Solomon hugged the two into a bear hug. As they cried and talked excitedly, Y/n got up without being noticed and walked out. The pain of the curse racked through her body. She walked down the trail towards Hogwarts as she processed her thoughts and feelings.

Anne looked around for the blonde girl yet, she wasn’t there.

“Where did Y/n go?”

Sebastian wiped his face and looked at the slightly cracked door,

“It’s okay. You can thank her later. She probably already knows you are grateful for her healing. Anyway, we have so many spells and information to catch up on so you can attend Hogwarts again!”

-_-_-_-_-

Y/n laid in her dorm room. The pain clamored through her body. Yes, she could remove it but, she welcomed the pain. It helped keep the buzzing in her head at bay. She stared at the roof. She still couldn’t think for some reason. All that ran through her head was the pain and the memories of Sebastian. He used her. For his benefit. She cared for him still even though he caused her to go down this path. She wished he could be blameless but, he knew what he was doing by playing puppeteer. She felt as if she was hung by strings and danced to the music Sebastian decided. What they say is true, Love is blind.

The rest of summer consisted of really nothing. Y/n didn’t receive any letters from Sebastian. Ominis wrote to her and asked if she was okay. She replied to his letters but, of course, she lied and told him everything was okay. Ominis, on the other hand, knew these were lies. Yet, he can only write because of his parents strict eyes. He can barely go to Sebastian’s. He was grateful that Anne was healed but, it wasn’t the same. He knew it even though Sebastian wanted his little fantasy. Ominis is nice to Anne but, not as close as he once was. He longed for Y/n’s presence more. He grew to admire Y/n and thought of her as a close friend. He hated to see Y/n so… different. Yet, he can only wait until school started once again before he can do anything.

Y/n learned a lot from being alone. She learned to embrace this strange feeling. Don’t reject it. She read books and talked to this darkness. It taught her things. She enter the Scriptorium as Sebastian wanted to but didn’t. It let her through instead of insisting on Crucio being used. She found the relics and read the book. The darkness thrived inside her. She became a parselmouth. She learned the forbidden spells. She learned Legilimency. She can take the form of animals. Now, when she stares at herself in the mirror, the darkness turned her eyes into a bright green color. She looked calm and calculated now. She didn’t let what Sebastian did to her hurt her any longer. She let it turn into anger. That fueled her change.

-_-_-_-_-_

School has started. Y/n watched the hustle in the common room. She mostly watched for Ominis, Sebastian, and Anne. She wanted tabs on them to avoid them. She will speak when needed. She finally spotted them. She smoothly retreated back to her dorm room. She requested to not have roommates this year. It was granted because she was the Hero of Hogwarts. Black couldn’t not accept it.

—

Sebastian hurried to the common room with his sister. They excitedly chatted as they made there way. After spotting Ominis, they three walked back to the common room. Once there, Anne, Sebastian, and Ominis searched for the certain blonde girl. Once they couldn’t find her, they decided to check the Undercroft.

Once they opened the door, Ominis could sense the dark magic that reeked in the air. Anne gasped,

“What happened here?”

Sebastian carefully walked to the pile of scattered pages in the corner. He looked down at them and picked on up,

“It’s not in English. I think it’s Latin. They are circular as they were wrote. Some type of spell.”

Ominis walked over, his wand blinking,

"No. I know Latin. From what my wand can make out, it's the same thing over and over."

Anne cautiously approached them,

"What does is say, Ominis?"

Ominis took a breath,

"Nothing normal."

Sebastian huffed,

"Just spit it out already, Ominis!"

Ominis took a breath before reading the papers with his wand hovering over them,

"He did this. He made me do this. He knows what he did. He will pay for his transgressions."

The room fell eerily silent. Sebastian felt his breath catch in his throat. He felt as if the air around him was against him. Anne gazed at the paper,

"Who caused this person so much pain?"

Sebastian let out a choked cough,

"I-I don't know but, this person needs to go to the looney bin, I say. Let me just pick these up and get rid of them properly."

He could feel Ominis's glare on his back. Bile rose in his throat as he burned the papers. As he turned around, the gate to The Undercroft opened.

The creaking caught the group's attention instantly. Y/n walked through them. Her usual long hair was cut short in a bob. She kept a stoic face. Her eyes were dull and empty.

Anne was the first to say anything.

"Y/n! It's nice to see you! I meant to thank you for well... giving me my life back. You have no clue how much I owe you."

Y/n's locked with Anne's. Anne felt a shiver rack through her body as Y/n spoke,

"You owe nothing. You are but a pawn in a game as we all are."

Her voice was as cold as ice. Ominis put the dots together quickly. Y/n spiraled because of Sebastian. He used her. Anger built inside himself. How could he let him do this to her?

Sebastian slowly spoke,

"Y/n. It's been a while. You cut your hair? Your eyes changed as well? How did you do that?"

Y/n stared at him. He felt her eyes pierced his soul. She then spoke after a minute,

"I decided to take all of the things I loved and get rid of it. I had many revelations over the break."

She shifted the book under her arm. Sebastian glanced at it. His eyes widened,

"Is... Is that Salazar Slytherin's Journal? Where did you get that?"

Ominis felt his body shiver. A coldness filled the room. Y/n glared at Sebastian as she hissed out,

"I owe you no explanation, Sallow."

Her eyes grew into a bright green from the dull forest green they were. Something filled her eyes as she locked eyes with the male. Sebastian recognized that look. It was hate. She hated him. Finally, the sky fell in on him it seemed. His eyes widened as the girl turned and walked away out of the Undercroft.

What has he done to his sweet Y/n?

Comment if you want a part 2 or if you think this is awesome! Thank you!

Part 2 of this work is Vile! You can find in in my pinned post under the Hogwarts Legacy Masterlist!

[henkinsjenkins]

(Male Mc) x Ominis Gaunt

Short multi, pinning, becoming friends

Plot:

You started to avoid Ominis after the confrontation you guys had after you left the undercroft. You couldn’t help but have an odd suspicion he disliked you and his threats came promising. In potion class you are unfortunately asked by Prof. Sharp to tutor Ominis which was more trouble than you thought.

On that night Sebastian showed you the Undercroft and immediately after was confronted by the one man who wasn’t supposed to know. You had been avoiding the Gaunt boy, a bit intimidated by the hot line of threats he spewed out that night. His tone didn’t leave any doubt of truth after he spoke.

You couldn’t risk getting expelled or in general, any trouble with the Headmaster. You knew the best way to stay out of trouble was to avoid it.

However life always had a way to swing full circle.

“(Name), can I see you for a second please.” Prof. Sharp’s broke through your concentration as you worked on the current potion for class. Quickly putting your partner to work to take over, you headed towards the front.

“Your progress is coming along nicely. Enough that I can trust you with a special assessment.”

You cocked your eyebrow at the sound of ‘special’.

“I would like you to tutor Mr. Gaunt for the next couple classes and outside of class. His skills in potions need guidance, one could say. I see the patience you give to your fellow classmates when they are struggling.”

You reminded yourself to keep your mouth from gaping at the request as Sharp continued on. Just a few nights ago he was ripping you a new one. You don’t know how he’d feel hearing he sucked at potions.

“I would like you to show him the same patience, given his family background not a lot of students wouldn’t be as willing to do the job professionally. However, I believe you can.”

You gave it thought, if he would offer you money just to pass him you’d probably take it and run.

Though you understood that wasn’t an option so you agreed.

Prof. Sharp reached under his desk pulling out a stack of paper, a study guide no doubt. Handing the packet over you took the papers looking through all the assignments listed.

“That is two weeks of work and then some to help prepare him for the next quiz we’ll be having soon. You can also use this to catch up on previous assignments you have struggled with in the past.”

Thank you for reading.

Part 2 >>>

[moldeater02]

Me thinking of my "slytherin trio adopting Tom Riddle au" and how funny it would be if the two guys tried to handle Merope when she is giving birth

Sebastian : i can't help! It's your niece, you do it!

Ominis : are you joking? I can't do that alone! I can't even tell if the baby is coming or not!

MC : you are both useless, move along! It can't be that terrible.

Some screaming later (mostly Merope shouting at her uncle and his useless boyfriend, and Sebastian screaming cuz Merope almost broke his hand squeezing it) and one not-yet-evil Tom is born.

MC : It was, in fact, terrible.

Then i make myself sad cuz Merope will have to die and Ominis will have to stay with his dying niece and bury her.

[matchavellichor]

A Losing Game

A/N: was in the mood to write pure filth so here's some jealous sebastian smut lul. also i left the context intentionally vague so that i could maybe write a prequel sometime but i hope it's clear they absolutely hate each other loool

Sebastian Sallow x f!MC - NSFW - 4.4k words - ao3

Summary: Watching his long-time rival and dueling partner kiss someone else ignites feelings in Sebastian that has him questioning just how similar hate is to desire.

Tags: Yule Ball, Enemies to Lovers, Pining Sebastian, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Mild Prey/Predator, No Safeword

For the first time in their many years of friendship, Sebastian is the one being dragged to a social event he has no interest in being a part of. Ominis, taking no small amount of pleasure in this, leads them into the Great Hall with an amused smirk on his face, only biting his tongue because he’s respectful of present company. Sebastian frowns.

His robes are scratchy, his date is doused in a nausea-inducing amount of flowery perfume, and there’s not nearly enough firewhiskey in the spiked punch this year.

He tells himself pointedly, as if it’s a matter of public record, that he isn’t looking for her.

Even as his eyes comb over the crowd, and there’s a little pang of disappointment in his gut when he still doesn’t spot her after the third sweep.

“Stop sulking,” Ominis murmurs from beside him. “You look miserable.”

Sebastian proceeds to sulk even more. “How would you know how I look?”

“I’m blind, not oblivious.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes, sitting down at the table the blonde had chosen and preparing himself for an entire night of brooding.

He’d have no qualms in remaining seated in their desolate little corner for the entirety of the evening, but his date—Bianca or Beatrice or, maybe something with a D—has other plans.

She titters something about dancing, and then she’s suddenly tugging on his arm and dragging him towards parquet floors. In no mood to protest, he lets himself get weaved through pairs of students who are doing anything but respecting Headmaster’s Black rule to maintain a Potions textbook length apart.

So much for leaving room for Merlin.

He manages a tight-lipped smile when they stop under a cloud charmed to sprinkle snowflakes, small flurries of white blending into a halo around them. It’s a truly beautiful sight, a winter wonderland of silver and gold englobing them, yet despite this, Sebastian’s demeanor is tight and forced, starkly unhappy.

He pretends he doesn’t understand the reasoning behind his sour mood. Pretends he isn’t thinking about someone else’s hands, someone else’s smell, someone else’s eyes, and the obvious absence of them.

Sebastian feels dreadfully pathetic clinging to the prospect of even simply seeing her as a motivator to suffer through the remainder of the night.

He wonders when he became such a pining, spineless idiot and deduces it must’ve been somewhere during the first dozen times she’d knocked him on his ass in a duel. Surely, a screw was knocked loose then. Or a couple.

Sebastian swallows his displeasure and takes hold of a hand that’s not the right size, that doesn’t have the calluses and rough edges in the places he’s already far too familiar with. It’s easy to fall into pace, but it’s hard to enjoy it. Hard to pretend he’s dancing with someone else.

It’s then, glancing over his date’s shoulder through the haze of floating candles and snowflakes, that he finally catches sight of what he has decidedly not been thinking about all evening.

From the way he stills and all his attention narrows in on one person, you’d think Salazar Slytherin himself just made an appearance butt-naked on a unicycle.

Breath-taking is an understatement. Asphyxiating might be a more valiant contender. Sebastian would be impressed with himself if he managed to get enough oxygen in his lungs to keep his brain functioning for an entire night of staring at her across dance floors.

His eyes comb over every inch of the blood red floor-length gown she has on, head-to-toe, gaze rising to dust over the blush high on her cheekbones, even further up to the gems crested in her hair.

He takes a deep, fortifying breath, though it doesn’t do him any good.

Then, his attention narrows in on the person accompanying her and it’s like his stomach immediately pitches, falls down six flights of stairs, and subsequently plummets into a dark abyss, landing at the bottom with a pathetic, defeated sort of sound.

Because her arm is tucked into the crook of someone else’s elbow, and she’s smiling at something someone else is whispering in her, and despite being only a few feet away at this point, she doesn’t even spare a glance at Sebastian.

Instead, she drapes an arm around her date’s neck, which he reciprocates with a hand at the small of her back, pulls their bodies closer and—

Sebastian squeezes his eyes shut and refuses to look, turning away from what feels like betrayal, though he knows is the farthest thing from it.

Maybe that’s what feels the worst. What makes his mouth taste so bitter he could gag from it. It’s the realization that he has no right to feel so upset about any of it. That he can’t expect anything from her.

That she isn’t his.

His shoulders stiffen and he suddenly stops any movements, letting his hands drop from where they were rested at a chiffon-covered waist, stepping away.

His date calls his name, emitting some cross between a petulant whine and indignant scoff, but he doesn’t really hear her. He’s busy high-tailing towards the drink table and doing the mental math for how many teal-coloured glasses of spiked punch he’ll have to drink to self-induce a coma.

Ominis, with his hell-anointed sixth sense, meets him three-quarters of the way there, falling into step as they weave through pairs of students.

“This is your own doing, you know.”

He’s right, yet Sebastian would still throttle him if there weren’t so many witnesses around. He ignores him.

“Sebastian,” Ominis sighs. “You’re being childish.”

“You aren’t helping.”

“I’m not trying to,” Ominis says. “I thought I’d already made myself clear that I was on her side concerning this.”

Sebastian scowls. “Some friend you are.”

“All you had to do was ask her.”

“Asking her is admitting defeat,” Sebastian mutters over the rim of the glass he just poured himself. “She wouldn’t have ever let me live it down.”

“I don’t understand this game you two play,” Ominis frowns. “Would it have been so hard for you to humble yourself for just a moment?”

Sebastian takes a long drink. “Yes. In front of her, it would’ve been.”

“Then enjoy watching her dance with someone else for the remainder of the evening.”

Sebastian has just about decided to actually throttle Ominis, witnesses be damned, but he’s already making his way back into the crowd, out of reach.

Sebastian groans, yet doesn’t go after him. Refuses to.

From his position on the outskirts of the dance floor, he’s in blissful ignorance of whatever it is she’s doing at the moment. Despite the curiosity eating away at him from the inside, it’s some form of solace that at least he can’t see the smile he’d caught on her face. Can’t see the glow in her eyes, or her hands on her date’s robes, or all the affection he craves so ardently misdirected towards someone else.

Somehow, it’s worse.

And then, as if Fortune, on his damned quarry smiling, has decided Sebastian hasn’t endured enough for one pitiful night already, the steady crescendo of a waltz begins to build.

The crowd pulses and sways in tempo with the symphony, leaving breaches and eyelets, brief openings that he can’t tear his eyes away from, because even if it hurts, he needs to see her again.

That’s how he catches sight of her for the second time that evening. Like the seas parting to reveal a miracle, she finds herself right in his line of vision.

Sebastian conveys the tightening he feels in his chest into an ice-cold glower, features hardened. He prays she’ll just look. Even if it’s something fleeting, a split second of a glance.

Once again, her eyes never make their way anywhere near him.

It’s almost intentional, in a way that drives him insane. As if she knows where he is, and she’s skirting over him pointedly, antagonistically. Sebastian wouldn’t be surprised if it were intentional, a gleaming testimony to all the other ways she manages to get under his skin.

The dancing body of students continues to shift, like a pendulum, back and forth, revealing and concealing. He clings to the momentary sight of her, and still, like a fool, hopes that at some instance she’ll look back. Acknowledge him.

Give him some form of recognition so he doesn’t have to admit defeat so quickly. So that he knows that they’re still playing their game, that he’s not just losing alone.

The composition nears its apex, surrounding gowns and robes reaching a swirling mass of glitter and silks, and something heavy sinks inside of him, an impending sense of foreboding.

He knows what’s coming, somehow.

The orchestra finally reaching its climax.

Her fingers threading through the hairs at the nape of her date’s neck.

Her leaning forward, nose slotting against his, lips hovering over another’s and yet—

He doesn’t look away. Even if it feels like being split open, sternum cracked across the middle, until he’s left with a slick-red, yawning chest cavity.

He can’t look away, because her eyes are open and for the first time in the entire evening, they’re meeting his.

Like most instances involving her, he isn’t sure if he’s winning or losing anymore.

She doesn’t look away, and he can’t bring himself to either. It’s like he’s standing there, split from top to bottom, voluntarily exposed for her to prod at, to ruin. And yet, there’s a bittersweetness to it all.

Her lips aren’t on his, yet she’s looking at him as if she wishes they were.

There’s something taunting in her eyes. Something he might’ve mistaken as a threat if they were in their usual setting, mid-duel in the Undercroft.

A challenge.

It takes him a moment to realize that context shouldn’t matter. This is an invitation for battle, a glaring provocation. He stares.

The sight of her mouth on someone else’s makes bile rise in his throat, makes him so filled with rage and revulsion that he thinks he might suffocate on it all. Yet the sight of her eyes, the sheer amount of longing she’s able to convey in such a short glance, is enough to invigorate him, to channel all his rage and wanting into something else.

His legs move of their own accord.

Her reflexes are as sharp as they are in battle.

The second she sees him coming towards her, she reacts. Murmurs a hurried apology towards her date, who looks so confused Sebastian would almost feel bad for the bloke if he didn’t want to strangle him so violently.

She’s immediately cutting through the crowd towards the opposite direction, her eyes trained on one of the exits. He picks up his speed, but she’s quicker than him, smaller, able to duck through bunches of students with ease, even with her dress hindering her movements.

Adrenaline trickles up his spine. She throws him another glance over her shoulder and smirks, sly and knowing, a look that writhes under his skin in the way her glances always do.

Even if he’s the one chasing her, Sebastian feels awfully like the rodent in their little game of cat and mouse.

They both step into the quiet of the dimly-lit hallway, the sounds of the party bleeding away as the door shuts behind them, casting them in silence.

There’s a split moment where she spins around to look at him, chest heaving. The live-wire tension between them is pulled so taut it’s a miracle the air doesn’t crackle with static.

Neither of them move for a long moment, until her lips curl into a smile.

She breaks into a run and Sebastian doesn’t miss a beat.

He chases after her, his heart pounding with something primal, something instinctive. Like his self-control might slip away from him when he catches her, like he might just sink his teeth into soft flesh, dig his nails into supple skin. She runs as if she’s just as aware of this fact as he is.

He almost wants to punish her for it. Bite and scratch and mark as if in vengeance for her thinking she could ever get away from him. For her forgetting that she’s anything but his, as if she should simply know it by now.

She’s fast, but she’s nearly tripping over the dress she has fisted in her hands, and her heels don’t help. All it takes is for her to stumble around a corner and he’s on her, grabbing her gown, pulling her towards him.

He spins her around, and she grunts when he slams her against the wall. Teeth bared, strands of the elegant updo she’d had her hair in falling down over her shoulders, glittery makeup smeared down her cheeks — she looks like something savage.

For some reason, it makes something deep-set inside Sebastian ache.

“Let go,” she grits, struggling against the hold he has on her wrists, under the weight of his body that has her molded to the wall.

His grip only tightens, frustration simmering low in his gut. Sebastian has never known desire like this, shadowed by fury. Want and anger, love and hate, repulsion and obsession.

“I know what you’re doing,” he hisses.

She stills her thrashing in favor of looking up at him through her lashes with an expression so innocent, it’s crucifying.

“Attending a dance?”

His jaw sets. “Don’t get smart with me.”

“Why, are you having a hard time keeping up?”

He stares at her for a long moment, jaw working in tandem with his thoughts. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and she tilts her head, amused at how worked up he’s gotten.

“I know what you’re doing,” she says.

“And what’s that?”

“Thinking about how badly you want to kill me, probably,” she says. Her eyes fall to his lips and his breath stops in his throat. “Or kiss me. Haven’t quite worked out which one yet.”

“So certain that they’re mutually exclusive,” he murmurs, his gaze falling to mimic hers despite himself. “I think you forget that I’m very multi-faceted.”

“That I’m aware of,” she tilts her chin up, almost as if inviting him to press his mouth to hers, a siren’s call. “You manage to be mind-numbingly stupid and brilliantly obnoxious, all at the same time.”

He scoffs. “And you manage to be the most infuriating person on the planet.”

She seems starkly proud of the title. “What can I say, I invoke passion.”

“You invoke homicidal thoughts.”

“Not the only kinds of thoughts I invoke in you, is it, Sallow?”

He reddens. He’s spent too many showers hunched over his own fist with silencing charms plastered around the tiles for his response to be anything more than a blurted, evocative reaction.

“Anything you think I feel for you is precisely the opposite. I fucking despise you.”

He only notes a split second after that it’s not an outright denial.

Evidently, so does she. Because then, as if she were made to crawl under his skin, writhe underneath it until his nerves were a mess, she smiles.

What he truly despises is how pretty he finds it.

“You don’t hate me.”

He sneers. “Is that so?”

“Hate isn’t the opposite of love. Indifference is,” she leans in. “And I’d hardly call chasing me through the castle simply because I kissed someone else…indifferent.”

He decides then — or more accurately, his too-horny, too-angry, too-impulsive brain decides for him — to wipe the pleased grin off her face the most effective way he knows how.

With a hand fisted in her hair and his mouth crashing against hers.

It isn’t tender or sweet, nor the remotest definition of kind, but it’s fitting and dreadfully familiar, because it’s not like they’ve ever been nice to one another.

He lets go of her wrists to give her some fighting chance, because he’s cruel, but he prides himself on being fair. Instead of pushing him away, or going for her wand, or doing anything to indicate she doesn’t want this, however, she pulls him in. As if she knows exactly how to bring him to his knees, in any and all contexts, and revels in any opportunity to destroy him.

He almost thinks it’s a trap, another one of her grating ploys, but when she tangles her fingers in his hair and drags her nails down his scalp and kisses him back with just as much fervor as he does, it’s hard to believe it’s simply a farce.

Her tongue finds his and Sebastian wonders if they’ll ever do anything together that doesn’t mimic a battle. She fights for dominance in every stroke of her tongue against his, and his stubbornness refuses to grant her it.

“Fuck,” he groans against her mouth, because he’s learning just how much she kisses the same way she duels.

Dirty, unfair, brutal. Like she’s never been afraid of blood, or getting messy, or breaking things.

She stokes a fire that’s been simmering inside him until it’s red-hot and all-consuming, flames licking at the inside of his throat. He pulls her bottom lip between his teeth and bites until he tastes copper, finding some sick form of satisfaction at the pained little whine she lets out.

“You kissed him,” he pants, and there’s something raw in his voice. He rests his forehead against hers and stares at the crimson pooling on her lip. “You kissed him.”

She swallows. “I did.”

Sebastian despises how hurt he sounds. “I could kill him.”

“You won’t.”

“I could.”

“I know,” she nods, chest heaving against his. Her voice grows suddenly soft, until it’s barely a whisper. “I wanted it to be you.”

He groans, almost pained. “Did you?”

She nods.

“Has he ever touched you?”

She shakes her head.

“Tell the truth,” he says, fingers threading through the tangled remains of her chignon, tilting her face up towards him so he can meet her eyes. “Did you let him touch you?” He presses a leg between her thighs, barely able to feel her through layers of tulle. “Here?”

“No,” she gasps from the contact, nails scrambling to drag down his forearm. “Never.”

“Fuck,” he sighs, and tips his head down to press against her throat, drags his lips over her jaw. “Only me, hm? Say it.”

She shakes her head and his gaze darkens, pulling back to tighten his fingers still tangled in her hair, to tear a whimper from the back of her throat.

“No? Who then?”

“No one,” she whispers, and despite the tight angle her neck is at, despite the fear dancing behind her eyes, she smiles up at him again. “You haven’t touched me yet, though, have you?”

She’s baiting him, and he’s aware of it, and still it manages to work.

He feels his self-restraint slipping through the cracks of his fingers like sand. There’s traces of scarlet on her teeth he wants to drag his tongue over. He wants to suck the marrow from her bones.

He spins her around, presses her cheek into the cool flagstone of the corridor they’re in, and molds his body to hers.

“S-shit,” she curses when his patience wears thin and he yanks at the fabric hiding her body away from his, pulling at the skirt of her gown until it rips. “Asshole.”

“Looks better this way.”

His fingers coast up her thighs to hook into her knickers, tugging them down before she can protest. She gasps and he smiles against her cheek, pushing her hand away when she tries to cover herself.

He nips at her ear, his hand reaching between her legs to cup her sex, reveling in the way she tries to squirm away from him.

“What’s wrong? Going to act shy now?”

“Someone could see,” she grits, though something in her tone tells him she’s not going to stop him.

“Wouldn’t they be lucky.”

His breath stutters when he finally dips his fingers between her folds and finds how soaked she is. Something about the revelation is dizzying, the notion that she could possibly want this as badly as he does. He grinds his hips into her arse so she’s just as aware of how gone he is.

Immediately, his hand is fumbling with his belt, the other pressing bruises into her hip to keep her still. He kicks her feet open wider, spreading her for him. His fingers flex on her hip in anticipation.

“You have full permission to use any Unforgivables you want on me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling deeply. He groans. “You’re not getting me off of you in any other way.”

When she doesn’t make any move for her wand he positions himself at her entrance, rubbing to coat himself in her fluids. Her breathing is heavy against the wall she’s pressed against, her gasps coming out in soft little pants. He revels in them for a long moment.

Then, he’s impaling her and all of her breathing stops. Replaced instead by a strangled sort of sound, as if he’d managed to knock out all of the air in her lungs with a single thrust. His jaw falls slack.

He manages to composure himself enough to murmur in her ear, voice hoarse. “Hurts?”

She chokes out a sob, nodding weakly. Her head falls against the wall, clenching around him as she tries to adjust to his size.

His hips snap forward again, even harsher this time, burying himself to the hilt and tearing a yelp out of her throat. “Good.”

“S–Sebastian—”

He pauses, so deep inside her he can feel every little pulse, hips flush against her arse. “Want me to stop?”

Miraculously, she shakes her head. It’s never like her to back down from a fight, after all.

“Of course,” he chuckles, though it sounds uncharacteristically strained, imprecise. Like he’s losing his grip. His head falls to her shoulder and he moans, grunting feverishly against her skin as he starts a brutal, unforgiving pace. “You can take it. Look so pretty taking it.”

“Please,” she whines. “Too much, I–I can’t,”

“You’re a tough girl,” he whispers, tone vicious despite his words. “You’re going to shut your fucking mouth and take my cock.”

She nods fervently, obediently, and Sebastian thinks he deserves a medal for not finishing right then. He yanks her hips back from the wall, shifting the angle and she gasps when he feels him push in even deeper.

“Oh my God,” she moans. “Good — feels s’good, yes, yes. Plea–please don’t stop.”

“Fuck,” he grunts, voice sandpaper-rough. He snakes a hand to her front to rub tight little circles between her legs. “Look at you babbling. Dumb little cock-drunk slut. Can’t even think properly with me inside you like this, can you?”

Her response is too garbled for coherence, a mess of moans and pleas. He groans in a way that’s almost just as saturated with desperation, that tells her she’s not alone in her unraveling. He pulls her head back to smash his lips to her, stifling all kinds of confessions that threaten to escape him.

She breaks the kiss to gasp for air and his fingers swirl against her just right. She tightens. “Gonna — m‘gonna cum,”

“Yeah? Come for me, baby,” his voice breaks on the word, and he’s aware he’s practically begging. He’s too far gone to care, so he scrapes a kiss to her heat-flushed cheek and properly pleads.

“Please. So fucking beautiful. Let me see your pretty face when you come undone for me,” he stares down at her through half-lidded eyes and briefly contemplates the possibility that he’s died and gone to heaven when she looks back at him. “That’s it, look at me.”

He studies her as he sends her over the edge and pulls himself over along with her, her lashes fluttering as she struggles to keep her eyes on his.

The sight is enough to ruin him.

Her makeup a mess from the tear tracks running through them, the hair fisted in his hands in an even worse state, and somehow— she still manages a lopsided smile, as if beyond pleased with herself.

He’s faintly aware of the fact she’s won. He makes peace with the realization.

There’s nothing but the sound of their heavy breathing to fill the silence in the hallway as Sebastian tries to regain his bearings, still buried inside her. Neither of them move for a long moment, and Sebastian likens it to the peace following a war, a brief period of prosperity.

He’s conscious that it’s temporary.

She winces when he finally pulls out of her, their shared spend trickling down the insides of her thighs, her knees nearly giving out to the point he has to hold her up, even if his own legs feel dreadfully unstable.

It doesn’t take her long for her to detach her body from his own, to duck under his arm and slip away. Panic suddenly seizes his chest, dread trickling up his spine. For some reason, he can’t bear to watch her leave. He opens his mouth to say something—an apology, maybe—but she beats him to it.

“That was fun,” she says plainly, glancing back at him over her shoulder. It’s as if they’d just finished another duel. Hardly anything to bat an eye at. Sebastian is at a remarkable loss for words.

She hasn’t continued down the hallway, but she looks as if she’s prepared to.

He’s faintly aware of the fact he probably looks like a fish right now, jaw still slack.

When he doesn’t say anything, she turns her attention to righting her underthings and fixing the tattered remains of her gown. He watches her.

“Goodnight, Sebastian.”

Suddenly sprung to life by the threat of her absence, he takes a step forward. “I’ll walk you back.”

She snorts. “Ever the gentleman.”

“Unless, you’d like to, uh,” he stares down at his shoes, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. “I could transfigure something for us in the Undercroft.”

She looks amused. “My god, you’re insatiable.”

He reddens. “I didn’t mean—oh, Salazar, to sleep…I meant to sleep.”

She turns to face him fully and raises her brows. “You’re asking me if I’d like to forego my own bed in order to spend the night with you in a dusty cellar?”

Mortification washes over him. Why would she? He should’ve kept his mouth shut and walked her to her dorm room instead of deluding himself with the notion that this could’ve been anything more than a quick fuck.

She stares at him expectantly and his fingers twitch at his side with the desire to grab his wand and promptly Avada himself.

It’s then that she decides to saunter over to him, taking her time, until she’s right beside him and can tuck her arm into his. She gestures forward, almost impatient.

“Go on then. I’m little spoon.”

[blueraineshadows]

One Year Later

To celebrate the first anniversary of the release of Hogwarts Legacy on the 10th February, a group of us on Discord decided to create fan work with the theme of One Year Later.

Sebastian Sallow x F!MC

Tags: NSFW, angst, depression, fluff, smut

7.5k words.

Just before returning to Hogwarts for 6th year, MC decides to pay a visit to the boy who opened her eyes to the darkness and fire of magic.

Darkness had fallen over the Highlands, the faintest strip of colour still clinging to the horizon as MC glided across the countryside on her broom. The late August air still held a lingering warmth, the breeze pleasant against her cheeks as she dipped lower, aiming for the cosy lights of the little hamlet spread out below.

There was a charm to Feldrcroft. Quaint cottages and beautiful scenery combined with the small community of magical folk made for a warm and pleasant feel. However, MC had memories of this place that still made her spine tingle with apprehension. She felt the tightness of anxiety claiming her chest as her booted feet touched down to the ground, the trees and grass that still had their lush, green foliage looked dark and hulking in the swallowing night. 

With her gaze fixed on one cottage in particular, she wondered if the occupant would be pleased to see her. She had not forewarned him, no letter or laid plans to come and see him. She had not thought to arrange it, thinking he wouldn't want her nearby to remind him of events that took place last spring. The time apart over summer break had been the space needed to try and come to terms with it all, but she had come to realise that she had missed him. 

She missed the boy who had urged her feet onto a path that had been dubiously dark but utterly thrilling. She had not looked for such things, and yet they had to come to her. Pain and suffering had come with it, secrets and darkness that still plagued her. But at the end of it all, she had found people who shared magical abilities. Her people. This was where she belonged. 

The pull of Sebastian Sallow had not weakened since parting ways with him at the end of fifth year. Despite everything, she was unable to forget him. His smile, his eyes, the way he would tease her, his intelligence, and yes, his darkness. If anything, it was the troubled streak that split through him that lured her in the most. There was a thrill about it, a curiosity. It kept her on the edge, but it had kept her alive, too. If she was truly honest about it, she had a dark and troubled streak of her own, and it recognised his, called to it even. A kindred spirit as he had once put it.

So, here she was, standing outside of his small, country home with her palm pressed against the aged wood of his door with her heart in her mouth. Thoughts raced through her head, tumbling together to heighten the tension in her chest. Would he shut the door in her face? Would he push her away, hating the reminder that her face would bring to him? Maybe he wasn't alone inside there, and she would be intruding. The thought made her stomach twist with something cold and slippery. 

She didn't turn away, though. It's better now than on September 1st when school was back in. She wanted to see his face. She needed to know how it would be when face to face with him, without the distraction of everyone else. 

Foolish or brave, she lifted her hand from the door, made a fist, and rapped firmly. The knock sounded loud and final in the quiet dark. Her feet twitched in her boots, tingling with the sudden urge to flee. He won't want her here. This was a mistake. 

The seconds stretched as she stared at the door, fixated on the grain in the wood as her ears strained for the sound of movement behind it. She swallowed, clenching and unclenching her hands until the sound of the latch came. The door opened a crack, and the shadow of a figure appeared against a warm, low light. 

Brown eyes peered curiously through the gap, a tumble of wild brunette locks framing a freckled face that had lost its roundness in their two months apart. His cheekbones were more prominent, shadows had darkened under his eyes, and there was a grim set to his jaw that made him look harder, older. 

His hand gripped his wand, aiming it subtly through the gap as his gaze took her in, his mouth parting softly in surprise as his eyebrows lifted. “MC.”

“Hello, Sebastian,” she said, managing a nervous smile. 

His gaze darted behind her, scanning the hamlet quickly before he returned his eyes to her, adjusting his wand slightly. He was on edge, and she was quick to reassure him.

“It's just me,” she said, holding up a hand. “I… I thought I would surprise you. A little visit before school begins again, but I can leave if you would prefer that. I don't want to intrude.” 

He lowered his wand, eyes still a little wary as he opened the door a bit wider. His dark blue shirt was open at the throat, and the sleeves rolled back. He wore no waistcoat, but braces held up his dark trousers, his shoulders broad, and his hips slim. Her eyes devoured the sight of him, catching up on missed time as he pushed a hand through his messy locks and stepped back, pushing the door fully open before gesturing for her to step inside. 

“Not at all, please, come on in,” he said. His gaze also took her in from head to toe, his eyes almost disbelieving as he moved to close the door behind her. “You will have to excuse the mess, I'm afraid. I was not expecting company.” 

She smiled, her eyes taking in the untidy cottage quickly, noting the cosy fire and huge pile of books stacked haphazardly by the chair. 

“I probably should have sent an owl first,” she said, fiddling with the cuffs of her jacket. “I'm sorry. It was an impulsive idea to come.”

“But a welcome one,” he said softly.

Their eyes met, his lips curving softly as warmth slowly entered his eyes. He looked tired, the boyish look of him long gone, torn away by hardships that nobody should have to endure. But, he looked like he had been eating, his clothes were clean. He had not fallen into a pit of darkness as Ominis had feared. 

Sebastian's eyes, now filled with warmth as he looked upon her, were no longer wary, sparkling with that special something that kept her at his side. It was him, still in there, no sign of any eerie glow of forbidden magic, none of the madness or fury that haunted her secret memories. Just Sebastian. 

“It's good to see you,” she whispered. 

His gaze dipped, shadows flitting across his face as pink coloured his cheeks. He fussed with his hair again and cleared his throat. 

“Let me get you something to drink. I have tea if you would like?” He moved towards the kitchen area, looking for clean cups. 

“Tea sounds perfect,” she said. 

….*....

The sound of his own laughter filled his ears, a sound that had become unfamiliar lately, and yet he welcomed it as he gazed across at the girl sitting cross-legged on the rug before his fire. Strands of her hair had slipped from her braid, framing a face that had haunted his thoughts all summer long. 

Fear as chilling as mountain ice had lingered as he imagined her not being able to bear the sight of him. Despite her hug at the end of last term, her goodbye that had stayed with him for days afterwards, he had been convinced that time apart would lead her to abandon him. As the weeks of summer break had passed, he had convinced himself that he had chased her away, that she would glare coldly at him across the classroom when they returned, or worse, she would ignore him completely.

After all, he was a murderer. He had tempted her into darker and more dangerous acts, led her astray, and shamefully coveted her power for his own selfish wants. Who would want to stay near someone like that? 

Even now, sitting here with her in his own home, her laughter warming that ice from the back of his neck, her eyes pulling at him like gravity that kept him grounded on the wooden floorboards. Even now, he could scarcely believe that she had turned up here. Uninvited, but so very welcome. 

They had not mentioned any of the terrible darkness that had torn through them in the spring. She was chatting about lighter things, funny stories, and urging him to smile and laugh with an ease that was stealing his breath. 

He had not realised just how lonely this summer had been until now. How he craved this interaction and connection. He could not stop staring at her, and his cheeks flamed whenever she caught his gaze lingering too long. He could not be inappropriate and chase her away. Not now that she was here and smiling at him. 

A glance at the clock revealed the hours slipping towards lateness. Soon, she would be gone. He counted himself lucky she was still here at all, flicking through the pages of a book as they discussed what might be in store this school year. He didn't want her to go. He had a feeling this new and welcome warmth would leave with her. 

Going back to Hogwarts tugged at the anxiety in his chest. Another year started with no Anne by his side, his friendship with Ominis strained and distant, his heart almost hollow and shadowed at the thought of being always alone. Dare he hope that MC would remain at his side. Was he asking too much of her again? 

Lost in his thoughts, he jumped when he felt her hand on the exposed skin of his forearm, her fingertips grazing softly over the hairs there. He almost shivered under the touch. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt the touch of another person, and he stared at the delicate shape of her hand. 

“Hey, it will be alright, you know,” she said softly. “We will be alright.” 

Slowly, he lifted his eyes to hers, fearing what he would find in their depths as the shadow of memories began to cluster at the edges of his mind. She was trying to hide her own pain, but he could see it. How could he not when he had shared so much of it? Been the cause of some of it?

“I am so sorry,” he said, shaking his head. His throat tightened, and the backs of his eyes burned. “How do you not hate me?” 

Her eyes widened, and she shifted closer towards him on the rug, her hand lifting to grasp his shoulder. “I don't hate you, Sebastian. Not at all.” 

It was hard to hold her gaze. Such beauty and warmth radiated from her face it made him dip his head, his own eyelids closing as staggering memory began to invade. Those lovely eyes had shone with horror, lit with the flash of spells cast to inflict pain and injury. She had watched him bring down his own uncle, murder a member of his own family in a whirlwind of rage and frustration that replayed over and over in his dreams, taunting him. His evil tendencies could have gotten her killed, too. The very thought made him shudder right there beside the fire. 

Shame coloured his cheeks, his flesh burning with it as guilt clawed at his insides. 

She should go. She deserved better. What kind of friend was he to her? The worst kind, that's what. 

“I wouldn't blame you if you did,” he rasped, pushing his hand through his hair, his fingers gripping at the tumbled strands. “I've done some terrible things.”

“As have I,” she said firmly. Her hand cupped his jaw, and he met her gaze, her fingers cool against his flushed skin. He swallowed hard. Her face was so close, so close it made his heart thunder. “We both did awful things, and it's impossible to change that now. But, we also did good things. We helped people, too. And we kept each other alive when it came down to it. You kept me alive with your tutoring and help. I could never regret that, Sebastian. I wouldn't be here if I did.” 

He stared at her, licking his lips and blinking as a tear slipped free from the corner of his eye. “Why did you come?” 

Her eyes, glittering with unshed tears of her own, were deep pools of warmth. He thought he could lose himself and drown in her eyes. He had found them fascinating from day one, felt such a thrill when they would seek him out across the classroom. He couldn't help but stare into them now, wanting to believe with his whole soul that she wasn't going to leave him.

“I missed you,” she whispered, her thumb sliding against the skin of his cheek. She blushed, blinking back her tears. “I wanted to see you before returning to school. Before everything, and everyone became a distraction. Nobody else will ever understand what happened, only you. I just… I needed to see you, I needed to know that you were alright, that we were alright. Does that make sense?” 

He nodded. “I missed you, too.” 

Her arms encased him, and he found himself held against her, his face pressed against her chest as her chin came to rest on the top of his head. Her scent filled his nose, soft floral elements and apples, and he inhaled deeply, his mind spinning as her hands slid through his hair and down his back. He shivered, closing his eyes against the ache of tears. 

“It will be alright,” she whispered again. 

He couldn't stop it. It was like a dam being released. Scalding tears leaked from his eyes and slid wildly down his cheeks, soaking into the softness of her blouse and darkening the fabric. He sucked in a stuttering breath, his fingers clutching at her blouse against her back and wincing as a hoarse sob escaped his mouth. 

“Fuck,” he said, his voice thick and strangled as he thought to pull away, but her arms only held him tighter. 

She was so temptingly soft, so warm, and yet the solidity of her body held against his felt like a life raft in a tossing sea. The fight seeped from him as her warmth began to spread through him. He shamelessly clung to her as sob after sob tore from his throat, and his tears soaked her blouse. She soothed him, held him, her hands gently roaming over him in a touch that he could feel deep in his bones. 

How was he ever going to be able to release his grip on her? To let go would be like being cast adrift. It was terrifying, and he thought he might never be able to breathe properly ever again. He wanted her to stay right here and never leave. No, he needed her to stay. 

“I will, don't worry. I can stay as long as you need,” she said, stroking his hair with gentle fingers. 

Had he said that out loud?

He stilled, fighting to get control of his emotions as her words slowly began to sink through his mind. He swiped a hand over his face and lifted his head to look at her. He saw the flicker of pain, her sadness, and a flash of pity as she stared at him. He must look like an awful sight, red eyed and pathetic, a sad little boy. 

Her fingers ghosted over his face, gently wiping away his tears. His skin craved her touch, and he yearned for it, already missing the warmth of her chest against his face where her heart had thudded so reassuringly near his ear. 

“You'll really stay?” His voice was raw and utterly vulnerable, and he felt so very exposed.

There was no judgement in her eyes as she nodded. “Of course.” 

….*....

It was quiet. So very quiet. The soft sounds of Sebastian's sleeping breaths on the other side of the curtain should have soothed her, but she lay on her back and stared up through the darkness waiting for sleep to come and claim her.

He had made up the bed with clean sheets, his eyes drawn to her constantly as he gave her a shirt to sleep in and tidied up before bed, almost as though he feared she would disappear. Her blouse hung on the dressing screen, the fabric soaked from his tears. Oh, how her heart had broken to hear him like that, the sharp pull of his grip on her clothes revealing the pain he held tight within himself. 

Her own torment had risen up and stuck in her throat as she had comforted him. 

She should have come sooner. She shouldn't have left him alone so long. 

The strange creaks and groans of an unfamiliar house had her wide awake, her thoughts spinning over the last year. She turned her head towards the faded curtain that separated her from Sebastian and realised that in a few days, she would have known him a full year. 

Her life had changed since last September. 

From a well-behaved, decent girl to an ancient magic wielding witch who could deliver death with a flick of her wrist. Here she was, laying in a bed wearing nothing but a man's shirt and her underwear, that same man sleeping in the next bed over with nothing but a flimsy curtain to separate them. Unchaperoned and barely dressed, she thought of the expanse of Sebastian's naked back she had glimpsed when he had readied for bed. He had freckles everywhere, the sight of his shifting muscles bringing a rising heat to her skin as she had skipped her eyes guiltily away. 

The matron of the children's home would have taken the belt to her legs for daring to be so brazen, and yet she stared at the curtain beside her and wished that she could see through it. 

Blushing furiously at the thought of Sebastian's bare skin, she turned in the bed to face the stone wall, her breaths quick and uneven as a fierce ache gathered between her thighs. She squirmed and closed her eyes, trying to think of anything else but him, but his scent was everywhere, and she could still remember the hard heat of his body as she had held him earlier on.

Fighting the fire in her blood and the dark memories in her head, she fell into a fitful sleep, tossing and turning until she was twisted in the sheets. 

Movement woke her, and she blinked against morning sunlight streaming around the thin curtain, taking a moment to remember where she was. Her hair was tumbled about her face, and she reached to brush strands aside, her heart leaping behind her ribs as Sebastian peered around the curtain with a cheeky smile. 

“Good morning, sleepy head,” he said, his eyes drawn to her bare legs that hung out from the twisted sheets. 

Blushing, she tugged the blanket over them, drawing them up closer towards her as that glowing heat in her abdomen nudged awake. 

“Morning,” she mumbled. 

Sebastian held out a steaming cup. “I thought you might like a cup of tea. I'm going to make you breakfast as well. It's the least I can do after you put up with me blubbering all over you last night.”

MC sat up, noting the flush of embarrassment on his cheeks as she arranged the blankets respectfully over her waist. She smiled and held her hand out for the tea. 

“That is very sweet of you, Seb,” she said, taking the cup from him. He was dressed in clean clothes, the fresh scent of soap wafting from his skin. Her gaze lingered over him, and she found herself patting the side of the bed. Fuck propriety. “Sit with me for a moment.” 

His eyes widened slightly, but he sat, turning to face her as she wrapped her hands around her cup. “Everything alright?” 

She smiled. “Let's do something today, something fun. Maybe you could take me exploring around your old childhood haunts. What do you think?” 

A smile twitched his lips, and he fluffed his hair. “There are chores to be done,” he said ruefully. “The wood doesn't chop itself, you know.”

She laughed and gave him a look that suggested she wasn't buying it. They both knew that a simple charm would have the axe swinging all by itself. He grinned at her as she sipped her tea. 

“It doesn't hurt to do things by hand sometimes. It's grounding. It reminds us that we are human after all,” he said. He huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Merlin, I sound like my parents. How very boring.” 

“Then I will help you around the house, we can pack a lunch, and then we can go exploring. Is that grounding enough for you, Mr Sallow?” 

He bit his lower lip, the old sparkle she loved appearing in his eyes. “You've got yourself a deal.” 

….*....

With the fresh sea breeze tugging at his hair and filling his lungs, Sebastian felt the foggy, dull ache around his eyes begin to recede. His eyes still felt scratchy and his throat raw after his emotional outburst yesterday, and he couldn't help but feel rather foolish for doing it in front of MC like that, but looking at her now as she searched for sea shells in the sand, he couldn't help but feel some of the heaviness lift from his shoulders and chest. 

The breeze played with her hair, her blouse rippling with it as she picked up a shell with a smile on her lips. She looked like one of those angels painted in muggle murals, the sun glinting off her hair, her cheeks delicately pink from the late summer warmth of it. 

It was so very hard not to stare at her. His gaze was drawn to her, and his whole body pulled towards her gravity, completely caught in her orbit. It stole his breath a little and made his head spin in a dizzying but delightful way. It was one thing to appreciate a pretty girl, but it was quite another to be utterly smitten with one. And he was becoming surer by the moment that he was smitten with her. 

Like the sun peeking through the darkest storm clouds, she had appeared on his doorstep and thrown back the shadows. She had danced in the same darkness as him, held his painful secrets alongside her own, and yet she had come back to him. It was more than he deserved. 

Spotting the delicate curve of a shell in the sand, he took out his wand and summoned it, letting it hover slowly over towards MC. The shell was perfectly intact, soft pink, and white curling into a graceful shape. MC’s eyes brightened as it appeared before her, those heavenly eyes swinging his way with a smile as she held out her palm. With careful precision, he let the shell sit in the cup of her hand, his gaze soft as her fingers turned it over to examine it. 

“It's beautiful!” She exclaimed as she held it up. 

He smiled, slipping his wand into his pocket as he began to walk closer towards her, his boots sinking into the soft sand. “Very beautiful,” he agreed, but he wasn't looking at the shell.  

Her eyes lifted to meet him as he approached, daring to stand rather close so he could get a closer look at her eyes. The breeze blew strands of hair across her face, and they both lifted their hands to tuck them back, their fingers grazing against each other. 

His heart thundered under his ribs at his boldness, his cheeks warming as she stared up at him, and he made to pull his hand away from her hair, but she caught his wrist to stop him. The rapid fire of his pulse made it hard to breathe as her hand slid up to link her fingers with his, their gazes locked on each other as though there was nothing else in the world to look upon. He realised that, even though he was partly terrified of what this might mean, he could quite happily stand and stare at her all day. Forever, in fact. 

She stood on tiptoes, leaning forward as she held his hand tightly, the soft sigh of her breath ghosting across his cheek before her lips pressed against the skin there in a quick kiss. 

He thought his lungs might burst and burn if he held his breath any longer, her eyes now so close he could definitely drown in them. 

“You should smile like that more often, Sebastian,” she said softly. “You have the most lovely smile, quite handsome, in fact.” 

Before she could even think about pulling away, removing herself from this perfect moment, his other hand caught her face in a gentle grip, his thumb sliding along the divine softness of her skin as he lowered his mouth to hers. It was the merest brush of lips, a soft taste in return for the one she had placed on his cheek, the tingle of it still there, along with the desire to feel more. 

“I shall save those smiles just for you,” he promised. 

He kept hold of her hand. Even when they left the beach and headed along the road back towards Feldcroft, their fingers remained laced together. She was a perfect fit, as though her hand had been made to be held by him, and it kept the shadows at bay. His own little ray of sunlight. 

….*....

After a long day of chores and wandering around in the sun, MC had been tired, her muscles aching pleasantly as she sat and ate a simple dinner with Sebastian. It hadn't taken much persuading for her to stay at the cottage another night. With only one day left until the start of term, she would have to fetch her things for returning to school, and yet here she lingered.

A second night of laying in the bed, staring up at the wooden rafters of Sebastian's house as he lay sleeping on the other side of the curtain. This time, her thoughts were on the way he had kissed her on the beach, his lips soft and warm, the touch of them delicate and tempting. There had been a fire in his gaze that called to her. Unspoken glimmers of something that felt like she was balancing on the edge of a discovery. 

He had not tried to kiss her again, but he had held her hand, his fingers grazing against her waist or her shoulder as they had prepared dinner. How many lingering looks would it take before he kissed her again? Did she dare steal a real kiss for herself? 

The very thought made her heart flutter, and her insides flare with aching flame. 

Burying her face into the soft feather pillow, she inhaled deeply and was reminded that Sebastian's scent was everywhere. He was everywhere, burying deeply into her soul until she wasn't sure where she ended and he began. She had not thought her heart could have been stolen so soon. At sixteen, she was fairly innocent in such matters, but there was something very powerful and almost frightening about the intensity with which she felt attached to Sebastian. 

Perhaps it was the trauma, the darkness of their secrets, and the power of being held in the grip of the fallout of them. Like her, he was alone in the world, and they had gravitated towards each other. His eyes had the power to weave threads around her that drew her in tighter and tighter with each lingering glance, the dark glimmer of such gazes a lure more powerful than magic. 

It's why she was here in the first place, was it not? Despite the real concern of how he had been faring, she had longed to be close to him again. 

Drifting on the tide these thoughts were carrying her on, she didn't hear the whimpers at first, the jerking shuffles of Sebastian shifting around on his bed. The sounds of distress began to filter through to her, and she sat up, tilting her head as she gazed at the thin curtain between them. 

Frowning slightly as a distressed groan sounded through the dark of the cottage, MC slipped from the bed sheets and stepped barefoot across the boards to peer around the curtain. 

Sebastian was indeed shuddering beneath his bed covers, pale moonlight filtering through a high window, illuminating him in a ghostly glow. 

“Sebastian?” She whispered, watching him twitch and whimper. 

He didn't answer. His eyes were closed, but moving rapidly beneath his lids, and as she stepped even closer towards him, she could see beads of sweat gathering on his forehead. He was dreaming, and it wasn't a good dream either by the looks of it. 

She bit her lip, sadness clouding her face as she stared down at him, knowing too well the kind of horrors that pulled you down in your sleep from her own night terrors. Worried about startling him, she hesitated before touching him, her hand trembling a little as it hovered above his shoulder. 

Then, he yelled, a shocking, harsh scream that ripped out of his mouth. MC gasped but didn't move her hand quickly enough. When he sat bolt upright in the bed, her hand hit his face, and he was lightning fast as he grabbed her. One hand clamping about her wrist, the other reaching up to fist into the front of the shirt she wore. 

He was like a cornered cat, hissing and frighteningly strong as he shook her, dragging her bodily forward before flipping her onto her back against the mattress. She yelped, her hair fanning out across the twisted sheets as he loomed above her, pinning her to the bed with an iron grip.

She stared up at his flushed face, his eyes wild and unseeing in the pale moonlight. 

“It's me!” She cried, her hands grasping at his bare arms, his muscles rigid under her touch. “Seb, it's me, please.” 

Breathing hard, he stared, his mouth a harsh grimace, his teeth bared as he gripped her. A sharp flash of fear shot through her, realising that he could hurt her if he wanted to, and her wand was beside her bed behind the curtain. She kept still, her own chest heaving with panicked breaths. 

“Sebastian,” she whispered. 

He became eerily still, his eyes subtly widening as he stared at her, really looking at her pinned beneath him. Her pulse was racing, throbbing in her ears, as he slowly came around to the reality of the situation. 

His gaze travelled over her face, moving down to where his hand had fisted the fabric of her shirt, gathering it tightly just below her collar bone. Her arm was pinned up behind her head, his fingers gripping so tightly at her wrist that she could feel her hand tingling from lack of blood flow. 

As a result of the struggle, her shirt was twisted up around her ribcage, exposing her waist and hips, his lower body pinning her to the bed in a rather compromising position. He wore nothing but a pair of undershorts, their bare legs exposed, his knees anchored against the bed. 

“What… how did you… MC,” he stuttered, confusion creasing his brow. He let go of her immediately, straightening up onto his knees as he pushed both hands through his hair with a groan of distress. “Did I hurt you?” 

His voice was strained, a pained wince on his face as he risked another look at her. He pressed his hands to his cheeks as his gaze roamed over her exposed flesh. “Oh fuck,” he whispered. 

MC hadn't moved, her arm still angled up above her head, her other hand hanging limp off the side of the bed as she fought to calm her breathing. “I'm alright,” she murmured. 

Sebastian shook his head, closing his eyes tightly as he moaned. “Oh gods, I'm so sorry.” 

He shifted his weight off her, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. MC sat up slowly, rubbing her wrist as her gaze lingered over the moonlight reflecting off the skin of his naked back. Her fear faded, her lungs relaxing as she watched him. He wouldn't hurt her, not on purpose. She held onto that thought.  

“It's alright,” she said quietly, slowly reaching for him. Her fingers trembled as she touched them against his shoulder blade, his muscles tensing slightly as she smoothed her hand along towards the back of his neck. “I'm okay. You're okay. You didn't hurt me.”

“But I could have,” he said, his voice cracking. He turned his head to look at her, his expression so raw and open it stole her breath. “I could have hurt you. I'd never forgive myself if…” He gulped, raking his fingers through his hair again as he shook his head. “What were you doing out of bed?” 

“I came to check on you,” she said, stroking her hand over the flesh of his back in soothing movements. “You were dreaming. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

“I'm not sure I will ever be okay,” he said, his voice so lost and empty as he stared at the floor. “These thoughts in my head, I know I'm not supposed to feel them, but they always find me in the quiet of night. I try to fight them away, but I’m scared that one night they might get the better of me, that I will get what I deserve.” 

Her eyes burned, and she bit her lip, her chest tightening at the sheer depth of sadness in his tone. He looked defeated, shrunken, and nothing like the boy who had faced her in their first ever duel in Defence Against the Dark Arts on her first day at Hogwarts. 

“No,” she said firmly, shuffling closer to wrap her arms around him from behind. “That is not going to be your fate.” 

She pressed her face against the flushed skin of his back, smooth and warm against her nose. Her hands snaked around to press against his chest, a slight smattering of hair there tickling her fingertips. She held him tight, imagining all of her body heat and strength of affection for him flowing into him as she did so. She hoped that he could feel it. 

“You are going to be just fine, Sebastian. I will make sure of it.” 

“I'm not sure I deserve it,” he whispered. 

Her heart clenched, and she shook her head. No. He couldn't give up. If he gave up, then she would struggle to keep her own head above the drowning waters of everything that had happened. Together. Together, they could fight it and win, just like they always did.

Her lips pressed against his heated skin, and once she started, she couldn't stop. She needed to show him. He was wanted. He was loved. He did deserve it.  

She kissed up his spine towards his neck, moving to spread more affection with her mouth along his freckled shoulder. She felt the shift in his breathing, the subtle flex of his muscles as she moved back towards his neck and pressed kisses under his ear. 

Her name whispered through his lips, and his hands slid over hers at his chest, their fingers interlocking as he held them tight and close near his thudding heart. 

“Don't give up on me,” she pleaded. “You've got this. Sebastian Sallow never backs down from a fight, remember? And this is a fight. You have to win. Do it for me, do it for Anne, but most of all, do it for yourself.” 

This time, when he pinned her to the bed, she welcomed it, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss so demanding that it stole her breath in the best possible way. Arching her back in a delicate curve, his hands roamed over her waist, sliding up underneath her back to grasp the back of her neck as his hips rocked achingly against hers. 

It was exhilarating to feel his hands against her bare flesh, the shirt riding up to expose the tender peaks of her breasts. He moaned, his mouth moving from her neck to draw one hardening nipple between his lips, his tongue sliding hotly over it in a teasing swipe. 

She had never been kissed or touched like this before, but she wasn't scared at all, not even a flutter of nerves as his hand skimmed her hip, reaching under to squeeze longingly at the curve of her behind. 

“Stop me,” he panted, his tongue swirling against her breastbone. His hand moulded her backside, his fingers brushing underneath in a devastating caress that made her mouth open in a gasp. Heat flared dangerously. 

“No,” she whined, her hand fisting into the softness of his hair. 

His groan was feral, his mouth starved as he drew her flesh into a sharp suck that left her marked, his fingers swiping deeper under the curve of her backside against damp heat. She moaned in response, her legs widening shamelessly to welcome him. 

“Fuck, you shouldn’t make noises like that. I'm not going to be able to stop,” he said, his hips rocking against her, the nudge of his arousal widening her eyes as a shock of excitement blistered through her blood. 

Heart hammering and her breathing ragged, she tilted her pelvis, her body curious and on fire as she rubbed herself against him. He sucked air through his gritted teeth and released it as a groan, his forehead pressed between her breasts. 

“MC…” He warned, lifting his head to look at her. The blazing heat in his eyes sent another thrill through her. 

Heart in her mouth, but her head determined. She wrapped her legs around him, urging him closer, and he closed his eyes with a soft moan. He caught his lower lip with his teeth, his hips rolling against her in a slow, seductive movement that had her utterly lost. 

“Are you sure about this?” He asked breathlessly. “There's no going back from it. I don't want to take advantage of you.” 

“You're not,” she said, shaking her head. “I choose you.” 

The look in his eyes almost had her in tears, the stunned softness that made him go still, his hand caressing her face before he kissed her, slowly and thoroughly. 

It was more than just answering the burn of lust that fired their blood. Each caress, each press of lips, was an affirmation of their need to feel connected. The heat of skin against skin was soothing and arousing at once, what little clothing that formed barriers was discarded swiftly and without care, their sole focus to answer the plea in each other’s eyes. 

It was new and thrilling, each fumbled touch as they explored and discovered opened up new possibilities. The erotic and intimate nature of Sebastian's fingers delving deep into her core drew low moans from her mouth. Her body opened to receive him, her heart racing and her thoughts eager to learn the feel of being joined completely with him. 

The solemn lectures delivered by her matron at the children's home drifted through her mind, snippets about carnal sin and the proper way to behave. As her hands explored the lines of Sebastian's body, she couldn't fathom why anyone should deny themselves this intimacy. 

How could this be so terrible and wrong? The way Sebastian was looking at her, the worship he gave with hands and mouth, it made her feel alive. The bonds that had formed between them strengthened, sharpening to a burning point in her chest as he finally claimed her for his own. The stinging stretch as he filled her made her bite her lip, her fingers digging into his flesh as he began to move, his own moans of pleasure filling her ears. 

This was where she was meant to be. This was no sin. This was home.

Pressing his forehead to hers, their combined breaths mere heated gasps as their bodies found a rhythm together, MC stared into the deep, dark pools of his eyes. Lost in his shadows, utterly claimed by them as the tendrils of black curled around her essence and sealed their fate. 

“You're mine,” he breathed into her mouth, pushing even deeper into her, his grip tightening. “I'm never going to let you go.” 

“And you're mine,” she said firmly. 

His thrusts stuttered, soft sounds falling from his lips as he suddenly withdrew, the slick heat of his arousal rubbing lazily against the inside of her thigh before he came, spilling thick pools of release against her trembling flesh. She glanced down, curious and flushed as it dripped slowly to the bed sheets, his cock still firm and slick from their lust. 

Their bodies couldn't be any closer, arms and legs entwined as their flesh cooled and their breathing began to regulate. With her face pressed close to his skin, she could breathe him in, every lung full was a soothing comfort enhanced by the soft caresses of his hands. 

He was hers, and she was his. Together, they would dance with their shadows, and together they would defeat them. 

….*....

The soft glow of lamps lit up Central Hall in Hogwarts, a few Prefects were chatting in the corner and not really paying attention to the girl leaning on the balcony above them, her eyes lingering over the fountain before fixing on her destination. The library door. 

MC felt her lips curve upwards in a fond smile as she remembered arriving on this very balcony exactly a year ago, her stomach a bundle of nerves as she met the curious Slytherin boy who had no concerns about breaking school rules. She had been the new girl, desperate to impress, and yet, even then, so soon after meeting Sebastian, he had easily led her astray. 

Footsteps sounded behind her on the stairs and she turned to look over her shoulder, her smile widening at the sight of said Slytherin approaching. His gaze was curious, eyes twinkling with familiar mischief as he came right up close to her and pressed a soft kiss to her mouth. 

“There you are,” he said quietly. “And what brings us here at this time of night, sweetheart?” 

MC smoothed her hands down the front of his waistcoat, her eyes playful as she looked up at him. “Do you know it's exactly one year, to the day, that you smuggled me into the library so I could snoop in the Restricted Section? I think it was the first bit of rule breaking you taught me.” 

“Is that so?” He arched an eyebrow and glanced over the balcony rail. “A whole year of teaching you how to break rules. How naughty of me. So, are you up for a little more rule breaking, then? Is that why we are here?” 

She nodded, eyes gleaming. “I thought we could sneak back down there, for old times sake, have a nose around. I have it on good authority that there are even some rather naughty books to be found if we look in the right place.” 

“Naughty books?” His smirk was positively devilish. “Do you even have to ask? Count me in.” 

Tugging her closer and kissing her again, his hand clasped hers. His handsome smile combined with the wicked gleam in his gaze was enough to send her tummy into a riot of butterflies as they pulled out their wands. With a cheeky wink, Sebastian cast his Disillusionment charm and he vanished, his faintly flickering outline tugging her towards the stairs as she cast her own charm. 

This time last year she had been shaking with nerves, her palms sweating as they outwitted old Scribner. This year, her pulse flew with anticipation as they made it through the iron gates and hurried down into the Restricted Section. The element of risk added to the excitement of being alone with Sebastian, and it wasn't long before she found herself pressed into a dark corner, his mouth on her skin and his hand under her blouse. 

Their shadows hung in the background, the darkness always there waiting for them, memories coming out to play when they least expected it. But, they had each other. They chased down the shadows with the warmth of their smiles and the heat of their embraces. 

With Sebastian at her side, she felt unstoppable, truly alive, and ready to face whatever came next. She doubted that life would ever become boring. Not with him. 

After all, they did love dark, restricted places, and they both couldn't back down from a challenge. Even when that challenge was each other. 

[sloanesallow]

seven minutes in heaven

Sebastian volunteers for a party game. The rules are simple: guess who the other person is. The caveat? You can’t look and you can’t speak but you can touch. Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (Siobhan Sloane) Tags: MDNI, NSFW! Sexual content, anonymous (but not really), Sebastian being the needy, horny boy that he is. Characters are in their 7th year and are 18. 2.8k words [Ao3] | [Wattpad] | [Tumblr Masterlist]

For reasons Sebastian doesn’t understand, a party is being thrown in the Slytherin common room. He knows better than to question it though, because one should never look a gift celebration in the mouth—or something like that. It’s Friday evening, and that is a good enough excuse for music and dancing, for firewhisky and more.

Sebastian leisurely wades through the chaos, choosing to relax and join in on the festivities. Drink in hand, he socializes with acquaintances and strangers alike until a hazy buzz forms at the base of his skull. He forgets how good it feels to be free of inhibition, welcoming whatever experience life wishes to bring his way. Tonight, that comes in the form of a game.

Seven minutes in heaven.

Sebastian blindly volunteers, laughing as he’s blindfolded and told there’s already someone waiting in the nearby storage closet. The rules are simple and thrilling: guess who the other person is. The caveat? You can’t look and you can’t speak but you can touch.

He’s pushed into the closet, quickly realizing how little space there is between him and his companion. It’s a girl, that much he can tell by the subtle scent of her perfume. His pulse quickens, though he isn’t sure if it’s from a sudden burst of nerves or excitement. More likely to be teenage hormones—it isn’t every day he’s trapped in an enclosed space with someone of the opposite sex.

Sebastian tentatively reaches out, biting down on his bottom lip to prevent himself from making a noise that would give away his identity. He barely registers the hushed hitch of her breath as he finds her waist—whoever it is, they are considerably shorter than he is, slender, and just the faintest curve to her hips. That doesn’t narrow it down much, with that description fitting most of the witches at Hogwarts.

Her hands meet his shoulders, one sliding up to briefly tease the hair at the nape of his neck. They slowly move down, smoothing across the front of his button-up, taking a moment to inspect his tie. He puffs out his chest, wondering if she can tell he is a Quidditch player, if she likes the toned muscles beneath her palms.

Emboldened, Sebastian moves his hands a little higher and sweeps his thumbs across her ribs. The blouse she wears is soft, and thin enough that he can feel the heat radiating from her skin, feel the rise and fall of her quickened breaths. He swallows hard, daring to trace the curve of her breasts, causing her to tremble. He brushes his fingers along the column of her neck and up her jawline, envisioning the shape of her face in his mind. She copies his careful actions and he shudders when her thumb ghosts across his lips.

He leans in, close enough to smell the sweet mint on her breath and feel the electric tickle of her mouth so close to his own. There’s something else there too—florals and earth—an aroma so recognizable it seizes his heart.

Sloane?

Sebastian tries to push the thought away, unconvinced that his dear, sweet Siobhan would engage in such a lascivious game. Yet, as her body presses closer, he can’t deny the spark of recognition. She fits against him in an achingly familiar way, stirring up memories of friendly hugs that linger a second too long, of accidental touches and longing stares that have gone unacknowledged for years.

It seems fate is done waiting for action. Sebastian contemplates and damns the repercussions in the time it takes for him to snake his arms around her torso and wedge his thigh between her legs. A shaky whimper slips from her lips and he hopes—no, he knows it’s Sloane.

It has to be.   

He closes the distance, capturing her lips in a kiss he’s craved for longer than he wants to admit. It’s hungry and demanding, his chest aching with every beat of his heart as she yields, mouth molding to his as if this isn’t their first, but thousandth kiss. Her fingers tangle in his hair and she grips his shirt collar, prompting him to hook one of her legs around his waist. He grinds himself against her, and she breaks away with a heady moan.

 “Ohh…”

Sebastian bites back a curse, the sinful sound shattering any facade of anonymity. The voice is more than familiar—it’s ingrained in the deepest parts of his psyche, a sound so often heard in laughter but never like this. It’s Sloane—his Sloane—the one who’s always been off-limits, forbidden. And yet here she is, wanton and responsive, melting under his every touch.

Doubt still dares to cloud his mind. Does she know it’s him? He wants to hear her moan—scream—his name, wants the whole damn castle to know how he makes her feel. But what if…what if she doesn’t want it to be him? What if Sloane wants—

No.

Sebastian refuses to entertain the idea that Sloane could ever want anyone but him. She must know it’s him, or she would’ve never let him kiss or touch her so intimately. It’s the only reality he will accept.

He trails his lips down her neck, coaxing out a dreamy sigh that makes his spine tingle. He slides his hand beneath her already bunched-up skirt, feeling the delicate fabric of her stockings, playfully plucking at the garter clip before stroking his fingers along her inner thigh. She tugs his head back and there’s a second of panic before her mouth clumsily crashes into his again. An amused chuckle morphs into a groan when her leg tightens around him, pushing his clothed arousal against her sex.   

More, he needs more.

Sebastian can hear his own racing heartbeat as he dares to inch his fingers higher, moaning into the kiss when they brush against the front of her underwear. She gasps but doesn’t stop him, her thigh twitching as he slides the fabric aside, just enough to feel her. His composure falters at finding her so wet, slipping two fingers through her slick heat and up to circle the tiny nerve bundling he’s read so much about.  

“Mmm—ah!”

She wobbles and he steadies her, his voice a husky whisper. “Shh, I’ve got you.”

She clings to him, whimpering between ragged breaths as she rocks herself against his hand, adding more to the already burning friction. His hips jerk forward of their own volition and Sebastian doesn’t feel in control of his own body, so lost in the moment and the sensation of her writhing against him and the heat of her that he thinks he must be dreaming, that he must be dead and gone to—

Fuck.

How long is seven minutes, anyway? 

The closet door bursts open and all Sebastian can hear is surprised laughter and drunken cheers as reality comes crashing down. He reluctantly pulls away, choking back a whine at the loss. He’s panting, heart pounding so fiercely against his ribcage it hurts.

“Took them long enough.”

Sebastian is too worried about Sloane to be embarrassed and yanks off the blindfold, blinking hard to adjust his vision. He turns to find her fleeing, pushing herself through the crowd to escape.  

“Sloane, wait!” he shouts, franticly following after her as she rushes down the first quiet corridor she can find. “Sloane!”

She slows just enough that he can catch up, gently grasping her arm to turn her around. When she doesn’t look at him he softly tilts her chin up, the ache in his chest worsening at the sight of her distressed expression. Her stormcloud eyes are glazed over with unshed tears, her bottom lip quivering as she sucks in a breath. They are swollen from kisses, a similar shade of the pink that tints her cheeks.  

“Sloane,” he repeats, caressing her cheek with an affectionate sweep before tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Only then does he notice the tremble in his fingers, his gut churning with the fear that she really didn’t want him, that all she feels for him is regret. “That was…” he gulps, unsuccessful in calming his frenzied pulse. “I—I just knew it was you.”

He searches her face for a sign of what she’s thinking or feeling. Sloane is typically quiet and reserved but right now, Sebastian will do anything to hear her say anything. Their friendship has always had this underlying tension, a thin line he’s struggled to navigate and held back from crossing, until now. He steps closer, still cradling her face while his other hand squeezes her wrist.

“Please, Siobhan,” he whispers. It takes every last thread of restraint he has not to kiss her, not when he knows how sweet she’d be on his tongue. “Tell me you felt it too, that it meant something. Because…fuck,” he doesn’t want to imagine a world where they pretend tonight didn’t happen. “I don’t think I can go back to being just friends after that.”

“No, we can’t,” she finally says in a raspy, quiet voice. She lifts her free hand to rest on his arm, and he holds his breath. Sloane’s eyes dart to his lips and then back up. “Tell me, Sebastian. Tell me what you want.”

“I want…” Sebastian remembers to exhale, even as nervous anticipation takes hold. He takes a moment to look at her, this close, in the light. “I want you.”

There’s no use in adding more, sweet words to try and convince her, to take pity on his desperate soul. Sloane leans into his touch, her eyes slowly closing as she sighs against his lips. “Then have me.”

Sebastian moans into her mouth, a mix of relief and reignited passion as he registers the desire in her words. This isn’t a dream or a game, and he’d sooner be trapped in a storage closet, alone for the rest of his life, than allow this to be a one-off. He can’t help but scoop her up into his arms, grinning as she lets out a little surprised yelp. Sloane holds onto him and he has a hard time focusing on getting them someplace private when all he wants is to kiss her breath away.

“Your room?” she asks as he balances her to open the door. He nods, kicking it closed with his foot as soon as they cross the threshold. The dormitory he shares with Ominis and a few other seventh years is empty and likely to stay that way if the party continues as long as the last one did. Sebastian wants to take his time, without interruptions.

 He sets Sloane down on the edge of his bed, stepping back to admire the sight of her sitting amongst his belongings, looking up at him wide-eyed and expectant. “I’ve dreamt of this, you know,” he murmurs, rubbing at his jaw in disbelief. “Of you, in my bed.”

Sebastian loosens the ties around his neck before casting it aside, watching the subtle changes in her expression as he slowly unbuttons his shirt. Sloane drags her teeth across her bottom lip, eyes following his movements as he sheds his clothes one item at a time until he is bare. He isn’t one to be bashful, but his skin heats under her gaze and the way her body shifts, hinting at her arousal.

“Here,” he says, taking her hands as she stands, guiding them to his chest. “Touch as much as you’d like.”

Sloane hums in quiet agreement, her palms sliding tentatively across his skin. She traces the lines of his muscles, fingers dancing across his shoulders and arms as she counts the dustings of freckles she finds. Sebastian’s resolve nearly buckles from the sensation, the ache to tear her clothes away and bury himself inside her heat unbearable.

He forces himself not to rush, keeping his focus on her face as he untucks her blouse, pulling free the buttons until he can push it from her shoulders. Her skirt and chemise are next, fluttering to the ground with the rest of their clothes. Sebastian is fiddling with the clasps of her garter when her hand finds his cock and he bucks against her with a strangled moan.

“Is this alright?” she asks in a sweet voice that threatens to undo him before they’ve properly started. Sebastian nods, resting his head against the crook of her shoulder as she gives a few experimental strokes.

“Fuck, yes,” he hisses, kissing her neck and tracing the line of her collarbone with his tongue. He cups her bare breasts in his hands, rolling them in his palm as she sighs a delightful little sound, her grip tightening a fraction. Sebastian pulls her hand away and guides her back to the edge of the bed, encouraging her to lie down as he peels her stockings and underwear off. “But I need to be inside of you, love.”

“Oh,” Sloane’s naked body is flushed and more beautiful than he could’ve ever imagined. The quick rise and fall of her chest, the way her skin prickles with gooseflesh, and how her eyes darken with lust.

Sebastian eases himself onto the bed, using his knee to carefully spread her legs apart. He lowers his body to hers, weight propped up on one arm as his free hand tickles down her belly to the junction of her thighs. “Is that what you want, Siobhan?” he whispers, craving not just her consent but a confession too. “Do you want me?”

Sloane whimpers, her eyes fluttering closed as his fingers slide through her sex, parting her to tease at the spot he knows will make her sing. Her back arches and she rolls her hips against him, her hands snapping up to clutch his shoulders. Sebastian marvels at her reactions, the shape of her mouth as she moans and the little crease between her brow as pleasure takes hold. He sinks a finger into her, then another, continuing to study the way her expression shifts.

“Tell me,” he rasps against her ear, nibbling softly on the lobe as she clenches around his fingers. “Do you need me?”

“Y—yes,” Sloane’s reply is a broken moan as she eagerly nods. “I need you, Sebastian.”

Their lips crash together again, deep and desperate as he positions himself, replacing his fingers with his cock. Sebastian breaks the kiss to look into her eyes, his hand squeezing her hip as he eases into her, savoring the moment so he can etch it into his mind and never forget. It’s almost overwhelming, the heat and tight grip surrounding him, even more so when he’s fully sheathed inside. After a moment, he moves, rocking his hips against hers in a steady, tender rhythm.

Sloane’s hands slide along his back as he thrusts, her nails occasionally biting into his skin when he fills her completely. He drops his head to her shoulder, nuzzling against her neck as he listens to her sounds of pleasure, his ego flaring with the knowledge he is the cause. She hooks her legs around his waist and Sebastian follows the silent cue, pressing himself closer, cradling her body as he quickens his pace.

“Just like that,” he groans, feeling the way she flutters around him with each stroke. His lips slide across her throat, ragged breaths swirling around her ear. “Say you’ll come for me, sweetheart, say you’ll come for me.”

“Yes!” Sloane arches beneath him, her inner walls squeezing around his cock, ensuring he won’t last much longer. He thinks for a moment that she might be the death of him. “Please…”

He hikes her legs higher around his waist, changing the angle of his thrusts as he chases their mutual release. She moves with him, clinging to him until her entire body trembles, her head tossed back in a silent cry. Sebastian can only admire the spectacle of her release for a few seconds before he too finds himself falling over the edge, a strangled growl muffled against her skin as he ruts into her before collapsing, breathless.

It takes all the strength Sebastian has to keep his weight from crushing her, his limbs shaking and heavy as he carefully rolls to her side, one arm still tucked tightly around her waist. His eyes droop with exhaustion and he slowly blinks at Sloane’s profile, her expression a similar state of bliss. Sensing him she turns her face to him, lips turned up in a lazy smile, eyes shining with what he hopes is love.

“How do you feel?” he asks, hesitant to have too serious a conversation so soon. It can wait at least until the morning, until after he’s had her a few more times.

Sloane softly giggles, the blush on her cheeks endearing. “Heavenly.”

Sebastian laughs, tugging her into a tighter embrace so he can kiss her cheeks and her nose, their continued laughter muffled between lazy kisses. He feels the same.

[rigrub]

Please can someone draw them in this situations? I See that Ominis would do it qfter the hundredth time Sebastian tells him about dark arts and his plans. Second one its nothing deep just Mc and Seba on the party together

[little-emerald-snake]

Any chance we can pretty please get a spice level 1000 smut with ominis and mc?

You write so well and atm all im seeing on tumblr is seb.

Im an omi girl and im starving lol

If your current circumstances permit, could you delve into your deepest darkest smut mind and give us a golden heap of descriptive and intricate filth? Haha xxx

We all love you.

I squeal whenever you post. Xxxxx

Hope youre doing well

Did you just come from the Undercroft!? - Ominis Gaunt X F!MC

🔥 NSFW 🔞 MDNI

Ohhh boy this one is wayyyy better than my last Doninis request so I apologize. But holy heck…this came from the dark fucked up recesses of my brain so enjoy that 🤣 Thanks for reading love, I’m doing much better after cutting back how much I’ve been writing, I feel rejuvenated and have much better inspiration (ignore the fact I’m posting twice a week again 🙄) 🫶🏻

Warnings: reliving the trauma of Ominis yelling at you for coming out of the Undercroft, Dominis, degradation, name calling (seriously I did not hold back), spitting, spit swallowing, clit/pussy spanking, rough fingering, squirting, spanking thighs and ass, unprotected rough sex, marking, threats of impregnation, threats of defamation, gaslighting, so much use of the word slut, overstimulation, crying during sex, degradation, oral m receiving, cum swallowing, no aftercare (hang in there loves, it’s a tough one)

2.4k words

She carefully stepped out from the undercroft, glancing around to see the coast was clear before stepping out. Much to her surprise the familiar blonde Slytherin stood there almost as if he was headed there himself. “Hello Sebastian. Wait.”

Her heart began to race in her chest and she momentarily debated making a run for it or staying absolutely silent and pretending she wasn’t there at all. “You there. I can hear you.”

Well there went that plan. The blind Slytherin wasn’t to be trifled with. That much she knew. No sense in hiding if he already knew that she was in fact there and it wasn’t in fact his best friend. “Oh, hello Ominis, isn’t it? I believe we have a few classes together, right?”

The blonde's brows rose and he looked momentarily puzzled before standing a bit straighter. “I recognize that voice. Heard you talking to Garreth Weasley in Potions class. You’re the new fifth-year.”

She was about to cheerily agree but a scowl met his features and her stomach sunk. He looked absolutely furious. “Did you just come from the Undercroft? How did you get in there?”

She swallowed nervously, deciding in that moment that she wouldn’t rat out Sebastian after he’d taken the fall for her in the library. “Oh? That room’s called ‘the Undercroft?’ Ah. Well, I was exploring and suddenly found myself in a strange passageway-“

He frowned deeply, interrupting her with a cutting tone. “Don’t lie to me. No one ‘stumbles’ upon that room. Sebastian told you, didn’t he?”

He suddenly shifted closer to her, nearly pinning her against the clock decorated door to the Undercroft and she swallowed again. “I can’t risk you telling anyone about this place, you know. Sebastian’s going to get an earful about this. He gets into enough trouble as it is and doesn’t need your help in doing so. Come with me.”

He stepped away from her, bringing his wand up to guide him before grabbing her arm and yanking her away from the opening. He carefully opened the passageway to the Undercroft and shoved her inside, stepping in after her and gripping her arm again.

She stumbled as he easily guided her to the couch and tossed her down roughly. She debated getting up and making a run for it but he stood right in front of her, blocking her exit unless she jumped over the back of the sofa. “I’m going to punish you for lying on behalf of Sebastian. I bet he only showed you this place so he wouldn’t be interrupted while taking your sweet pussy. He should know better. This is my hideout. He shouldn’t be bringing his mischievous romps down here anyway.”

She stuttered over her words, anxious as Ominis’ body language changed and his words lost their proper tone and changed to a different, more demanding tone. “I-I…we weren’t doing anything like that. H-he simply was showing me a place to work on my magic since I’m behind. I-I swore I wouldn’t tell anyone about it and I meant that. I-I’d never-“

He tsked her, placing a finger under her chin and tipping her head up to look at him. “You’re loyal to Sebastian. Not me. Therefore I can’t trust you. As for Sebastian, he’s showing you the Dark Arts isn't he? You’re learning the curses with him aren’t you? You will not sully my Undercroft with Dark Magic or your vile sexual acts.”

She pressed herself against the back of the couch, heartbeat thundering behind her ribs all the way down between her legs. She couldn’t explain why his anger was working her up but it was.

He chuckled, wand blinking in his hand. “My my, your heart sure is beating away. Partially because you're scared but there’s something more isn’t there? What? Sebastian teaching you the Dark Arts is riling you up is it? Are you greedy for power? You do realize I’m a Gaunt, right? Sallow is a pureblood wizard but I’m a direct pureblooded descendant of Salazar himself. My blood runs thicker with tragedy than any other wizarding family known to the wizarding world.”

Her mouth went dry. That wasn’t what she was about at all. It had nothing to do with power or learning the Dark Arts which she actually feared. But the way he was speaking to her, boasting himself up and almost trying to compete with Sebastian for her attention had her going. This was a very different side to Ominis.

He snickered, tucking his wand away and lowering himself to kneel on the couch with his hands on the tips of the cushions behind her and his knee between her legs. Her body went rigid when hot breath ghosted across her neck and a hand caressed her stomach, slowly adding pressure and moving downwards. “That’s right. I know you’re a pureblood. I could easily fill you with a Gaunt heir and you would very quickly become an important witch. Your name would be in everyone’s mouth.”

His hand now lifted the hem of her skirt and she nearly choked when a devious smirk decorated Ominis’ features. Shame burned through her. “No bloomers on. You filthy slut. Now I’m sure of it. You were down here trying to fuck Sebastian weren’t you. He’s ever the playboy you know. He’ll stick his cock in anything. You aren’t special.”

Her heart raced, squirming as his fingers traced up her inner thigh to find her soaking wet pussy. He groaned, yanking her skirt up and moving her knees apart a bit to spit directly onto her sex. The action caught her off guard but he flattened his palm, rubbing her pussy with his flattened fingers by starting slow and getting rougher.

She held back whimpers and moans but this only made him angrier. She gasped as his free hand moved off the cushions and squeezed her cheeks. The action forced her lips to open and that was when he spit inside her mouth, fingers still roughly rubbing against her sensitive sex.

She hesitated, freezing with his spit in her mouth now and unsure what to do. He chuckled darkly, seeming to sense her dilemma. “Swallow it. Filthy slut. You better consider this an honor.”

She swallowed. It felt wrong but that didn’t stop her body from responding with hot electric tingles spreading down her body. He chuckled, finding her clit with the ball of his palm and rubbing aggressively. The sensation it caused danced on the line of torture and pleasure. The pressure was too much but that didn’t stop her hips from canting upwards.

This was all too much. She was careening toward an orgasm, hips bucking and moving to try and wring pleasure from the overstimulating torture. In a moment of relief he pulled his hand away, spitting down on her pussy again, releasing her jaw and caging her in with his arm. She thought the torturous pleasure would be done but that’s when his palm reunited with her sex in a loud slap.

The sound got her more than anything but the intense heat that burned from the sensation of the spank caused her to whine. He only grinned spanking a few more times in quick succession.

She reached down to grip his wrist and pull him away but he only chuckled, overpowering her with strength and shoving two fingers inside. She lost her battle, still holding his wrist but no longer pushing him away as he began a brutal pace, finger fucking her rather agressively. “This is how you learn, useless slut.”

It was intense but she couldn’t deny it had her hips lifting in pleasure again. Especially when those long slender fingers curled, hammering directly against her g spot and dragging her closer to the edge her body was teetering on. “Ah! Oh Ominis! I-I’m gonna-!”

He kept up the brutal pace, laughing at her pitiful behavior below him as he kneeled over her and drove her to the brink. She gave a sharp cry, body arching upwards as a pressure she’d never felt before took over. “You’re not supposed to like this, greedy little slut.”

When the pressure faded and the high of her orgasm faded she floated back to reality, ears still lightly ringing. She could hear Ominis’ condescending tone trying to break through.

After a moment she finally registered when he was saying. “How dare you make a mess of the furniture in my Undercroft. Look at this fucking mess. Are you listening to me!? Your pleasure should be irrelevant to me.”

She opened her eyes, glancing down between her legs where Ominis had pulled his now dripping fingers away to motion at the damp cushions below her. Luckily for him, he’d managed to dive away before getting splashed with her mess as his clothes were dry. His hand and the furniture below her had no such luck.

She had hot tears welling in her eyes. She’d never squirted before and now from something so rough. How could this have happened? She didn’t have long to process before Ominis’ hand landed on her parted thigh with a slap that echoed through the stone walls of the room.

She gasped, the heat that blossomed to the top of her skin, making it red and sensitive, surprising her. He spanked her again just a bit higher and she snapped her legs shut, causing him to laugh. “What? Can’t take a punishment properly? You shouldn’t have lied to me then, you stupid girl.”

She whimpered and he took her hand, helping her up. She sighed a breath of relief. It was short lived though as he flipped her over and positioned her on her hands and knees in front of him, yanking her skirt up to leave her bare before him.

His palm came down hard on the round cheek of her ass, causing her to gasp and lurch forward in surprise. “That’s for making a such a fucking mess.”

She peered over her shoulder, swallowing harshly as she heard the zipper of his trousers and felt the blunt tip of him against her entrance. She didn’t have time to deny him as he shoved into her, slamming his hips forward and burying himself inside her wet warmth.

She gasped, biting into her lip at the slight sting of such a quick intrusion. He filled her so completely full she’d never felt anything like it. She gasped when he moved, dragging himself back out and grunting as he stuffed himself right back in.

He held her hips in a firm grasp, fucking into her agressively. With every slam of his hips it became just a bit clearer that this fucking was meant as a punishment. Yes it felt incredible but his pace was brutal, rough and quick and meant to get a point across.

Just as she was beginning to fall into pleasure and tighten around him he was pulling out of her and flipping her onto her back. He wasted little time slamming back into her and resuming the animalistic pace of fucking her.

He leant down over her, baring his teeth against her neck and scraping against her delicate skin. He fucked her faster, biting and suckling bruises into her soft skin.

The pleasure was driving her closer and closer to the edge but she knew people would surely question her about the hickeys he was leaving. She attempted to shove him off, causing a snarl to rise from his throat and he released her abused flesh and growled against her ear. “If you tell anyone it was me who marked you, I’ll deny it. I’ll tell everyone you’re a filthy little liar and that you are nowhere near my league. I’ll publically humiliate you. Is that what you want?”

She pitifully shook her head and tears bubbled up to the surface. She was moaning and crying, pain, pleasure and emotional whiplash being the cause. But her body shook and she experienced a soul shredding orgasm. Fat hot tears rolled down her cheeks as she rippled around him, whimpering and crying out as she came.

He growled in frustration, pulling out of her and falling back against the couch, pulling her with and seating her in his lap. “How dare you cum on my cock without my permission. You’re going to fucking earn it this time, you hear that slut? Ride me to get your pleasure since you’re such a greedy cock slut.”

She was so lost in the pleasure and the chaos that she did, placed her hands on his shoulders and rolled her hips on his, riding him and whimpering. “That’s right. Take my cock. Forget all about dallying with Sebastian. Enabling him like a naughty little bitch behind my back. Stupid girl, playing with the Dark Arts.”

She cried, overwhelmed from how good it felt to fuck him and how hot it was to be degraded by him but his words did cut deep. She hadn’t slept with Sebastian at all but the idea that Ominis wanted to fuck Sebastian out of her system lit a fire inside of her. He laughed heartily at her tears. “Are you overwhelmed silly slut? Can’t take being told what a useless and dumb little hole you are? Thats alright. I’m done with your pussy. Get on the floor where sluts belong. This filthy pussy isn’t good enough to be bred by a Gaunt. Your mouth will have to do.”

He practically shoved her off, more or less tossing her to the floor before sliding forward on the seat and gripping a fistful of her hair and using her mouth. She watched through watery eyes as he fucked her mouth, pumping her mouth full of thick, hot, salty cum.

She immediately wanted to spit it out but he pinched her nose and pulled his cock out, forcing her head back and brushing down the front of her throat till she swallowed his essence. He laughed meanly, tapping her cheek. “That’s right. You’re a good slut. Even if you are an absolute shit liar.”

He stood up, straightening himself out and putting himself back together before pulling his wand from his robe pocket and sauntering towards the door. “No more encouraging Sebastian to get into trouble? You hear me? If he comes up with some ‘brilliant plan’ you bring it to me immediately. Now, go clean up and go to bed…although, I must admit you are prettier when you’re overstimulated. And remember what I said. You tell anyone anything about this and I’ll have this entire school pitted against you. I’m not afraid to exploit my father being friends with Headmaster Black if I need to.”

Without another word he left her, tears streaming, throat raw, and pussy aching from the roughness.

[writing-intheundercroft]

The Night Shift

AO3 Link

Pairing: Auror!Sebastian x F!MC

Word Count: 10,206

Rating: T (just some smooches but plenty of angst)

Summary: You're the lead healer in the St. Mungo's intensive care unit, and a painfully familiar face ends up in your ward.

A/N: Took a break from my long fics this week to deliver a long angsty Seb one shot. I heard Phoebe Bridgers cover Night Shift and became feral over it. Perhaps it needs a smutty part two???

Night One

“I’m so glad you were able to slip away from work for a bit.” Poppy says, pouring tea into your cup.

You smile up at the brunette girl, who still wears her hair in a cropped bob, albeit a bit more fashionable now that you’re in your twenties.  You miss Poppy’s presence in your life, but her career as a mazoologist and yours as a lead healer in the intensive care unit of St. Mungo’s has your schedules rarely crossing.  

“It’s nice to be out in the sunlight,” you say coyly, lifting the cup to your mouth. It's the truth–you haven’t been out to tea with a friend, dressed in a pretty lace gown in what feels like ages.  Your career usually has you in a tightly pulled bun, hair out of your face to focus on your patients, with bloodied aprons.  Magic can heal most ailments, but your ancient abilities make you the best bet for the most gravely wounded.  So much so that you’ve worked six nights a week every week for the past five years, sleeping during the day to make it to your overnight shifts at the hospital.

With few exceptions.

But there’s coverage today, giving you a rare Saturday afternoon off to enjoy the warm spring day.  You and Poppy are sitting outside a tea shop in Diagon Alley, catching up on all things personal, while people watching.  It’s strange, you think, to be surrounded by so many people.  You leave for your shift at seven thirty in the evening, when most people are getting home for dinner, and return to your flat far after everyone has left for work.  

Poppy had just started telling you a story about a wild herd of manticores she’d encountered on her travels abroad, when a familiar face walked up to your table.

“Merlin’s beard, I never thought I’d see the likes of you two ever again,” Andrew Larson grins.

“Andrew,” Poppy smiles. “It’s good to see you.”

There are obligatory kisses on the cheek as the handsome Ravenclaw pulls up a chair. “What are you doing in town, Poppy?”  

“Visiting my gran, of course.” She tilts her head towards you. “And catching up with friends.”

“And you, it’s like you’re back from beyond the grave.” Andrew shifts his attention, teasing you. “Haven’t seen you in a long time.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “Just busy keeping people from their graves, that’s all.”

“I’ve heard.” Andrew elbows you. “Youngest lead healer in all of St. Mungo’s.”

“Yet being the youngest earned me the night shift.” You wrinkle your nose.  “And very few days off.”

“How’s the auror office doing?” Poppy quips, leaning her chin into her palm.

Andrew shrugs. “Busy; we’re working on a big case right now, but we finally got a few hours off to enjoy lunch.  I was just heading over to the Cauldron, meeting Sallow and Clopton for a bite.”

You swallow thickly.  It’s been five years since you last spoke to Sebastian Sallow.  At this point, you can’t exactly remember how it ended, except that the two of you had screamed at one another.  You were fairly certain you’d thrown a book at his head, and he’d knocked over your favorite mug in the process. You still had it, the handle broken off, now used as a quill holder at your desk.

“Oi, Larson!  Quit flirting, we’ve just gotten a message. All hands on deck at the office.” 

Both you and Poppy turn to the voice; Everett Clopton is standing a few paces away, wearing a smart suit.  He still has his gold wire glasses, but he’s grown into them. He’s wearing a hat, tipping the brim to you both in acknowledgement.

You hate the way your breath hitches when you see their companion.  Sebastian is also dressed well, sporting a tweed three piece suit, shiny black dress shoes, and a gold auror badge attached to his lapel.  He meets your gaze briefly before looking back up to Andrew, who’s moving the chair back to its proper table.

“Emergency meeting,” Sebastian utters gloomily. “Ruined a good lunch.”

Your stomach twists at the sound of his voice.  It’s no more than six words, but your insides feel like a wet towel being wrung out.  And Sebastian doesn’t even have the decency to look at you, avoiding eye contact with the person he considered his best friend for three years.  The audacity of him, to completely ignore the person who once held his fate in their hands–you feel the bile rising in your throat, swallowing down the anger that once consumed you.

No, you won’t let a tiny interaction with Sebastian ruin five years of hard work.  You stare at the cutlery on the table, willing him to leave.

Andrew Larson sighs, rapping his knuckles against the table. “It was good seeing you girls,” he smiles. “Hopefully I run into you again.”

The three boys–men, rather, you are all twenty three at this point–shuffle away.  

There is a heavy silence between you and Poppy, until she clears her throat.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly.

You nod, collecting yourself as you smile at her. “Perfectly fine.  It’s been ages, Poppy. We’re all over it.”

She grabs your gloved hand, pulling it towards her.  “You certainly are,” she says playfully, twisting the sparkling bauble on your left ring finger. “It’s gorgeous, by the way.”

“I never get to wear it,” you admit sheepishly. It’s been a month since your engagement, and you’ve hardly worn your ring; your fiance’s parents are perturbed that the announcement hasn’t been posted to the Daily Prophet yet. Despite having courted for the last year and a half, it still feels like everything has moved too fast, like you’ve fallen off your broom mid flight. For the most part, your engagement ring is safely tucked in its box atop your dresser, at the risk of getting bodily fluids on it during your shifts.

“He’s a lucky man.” Poppy echoes, sitting back in her chair. “You are happy, aren’t you?”

You’re doing fine, you think.  You’re at the top of your field.  You have a fine flat in a nice part of London, and a promise from a man that’s kind to you.  The kind of man who waited for you to get off your shift to bring you breakfast, and took you to a nice restaurant on your Friday nights off. You hadn’t expected a pretty ring from him, especially since you only graced him with your presence once a week, but then again, your last relationship had taught you not to expect anything at all.

A flash of brunette hair crosses your mind; you blink away the thought.

“I’m happy.  Very happy,” you say simply, holding your teacup up to your lips again. “So about the manticores…”

You jolt out of bed, a blue wisp of a rabbit bouncing around your bedroom.  It’s rare to get a patronus message at this hour; it can only mean an emergency at the hospital.  It also must be bad, considering they’re calling you in on your day off.

Without another thought, you tumble out of bed, rushing to your wardrobe to pull out your clothes.  Your unit specifically wears a deep purple–dark enough to hide stains.  Your shrug on undergarments and petticoats, and a burgundy gown with a high neckline.  Your hands know exactly how to tighten your hair into a knot within a minute, having perfected the craft over the five years of your career. Your wand is stowed in your dress pocket; you’ll grab an apron at the ward.  Grabbing a fistful of floo powder next to your fireplace, you step in, yelling out for St. Mungo’s.

The ward is in a flurry as you step out of the flames.  A nurse hands you a white cotton apron, which you wrap around your waist as you hold your wand between your teeth.  There are men all over, gashed and bleeding, as other healers take their information. 

“What’s happened?” You bark at an orderly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Auror ambush by some ashwinders,” he says dryly. “It’s awful.  Lost a few–even more are bleeding.  It’s dark magic, some sort of spell to keep the wounds bleeding.”

“Of course it is, those bastards.” You mutter. “I’ll take the worst of them.  Can someone bring me a coffee?”

He nods, pointing over to a bay of beds a few feet away. “Those three–they specifically requested you.” He hands off the charts, promising a caffeinated beverage.

You’re about to start flipping through the charts when you hear your name.  Your head flies up at the familiar voice, and you feel the blood drain from your face. You can see Everett Clopton waving his hands at you; Andrew Larson’s voice is yelling behind the curtain.  And just your luck, a pair of black shiny dress shoes are dangling off the examination table, twisted in an unnatural way.

Before you even realize it, you’re running to them.  The charts are promptly cast onto the side table when you duck behind the curtain, a gasp catching in your throat.

Sebastian looks awful.  

Correction–Sebastian looks dead.

“He jumped in front of me,” Everett panics, his hands on his head. “He shouldn’t have–we were talking, we thought we were out of the thick of it–”

“He’s been hit badly,” Andrew interjects.  His sleeves are bloodied from trying to apply pressure to a gash across Sebastian’s chest, the blood seeping through his shirt and vest. “You have to do something,” he pleads. “He’s the best of us–we can’t lose him.”

“Move,” you urge the two of them.  They scoot out of your way, and you make quick work of Sebastian’s clothing.

Years ago, tearing off Sebastian’s shirt would’ve been done out of passion, out of love.  You push those thoughts out of your mind as you rip through his white dress shirt, which is sopping wet with blood. Sebastian’s skin is cold and clammy; even his freckles are pale, disappearing from his face.

“Get me some dittany and shrivelfigs,” you screech at the other healers. “And the blood renewing potions, please.” You run your hand and your wand over Sebastian’s wounds, uttering a healing charm. “Vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur,” you mutter under your breath.  The spell isn’t healing fast enough, Sebastian is still losing too much blood.

You let out the  blue wisps of magic from your fingertips as you channel some of your ancient magic into the healing spell. You’re still mad at Sebastian, of course, but you’ll be damned if he dies on your watch.  

To your relief, the wounds start knitting themselves shut faster, but the scars look awful, all purpled and raised.  Another healer is next to you, urgently crushing the dittany and shrivelfigs into a paste–an idea you got from the patient lying in front of you during your sixth year.  You’d been battered so often during Crossed Wands, the two of you had experimented with salves and balms to lessen the appearance of your scars. 

“He appears to be stabilizing,” the junior healer claims. “Good job, as always.”

You suppress the choked out cry that’s stuck in your throat as you think of Ominis, and how he used to scold the two of you for experimenting.  He’d be thankful now that you did.

“There’s others,” another healer urges you. “We must move on to the next.”

You don’t want to.  Sebastian seems to be stirring, groaning as the healer rubs the salve onto the gaping wound that streaks across his chest.  You can hear Everett and Andrew crying and laughing on the other side of the curtain, exclaiming your name for having saved their partner.

There’s so much commotion, you could swear Sebastian uttered your name, but when you look back, his head is flat on the table, eyes shut.  The color is slowly returning to him, now no longer pale and gray.

“We have to keep him for observation,” you instruct another healer, handing her Sebastian’s chart. “I’ll check on him later.  In the meantime, there are others.”

Without another glance, you move on to the next bay.

“Excellent work as always,” your boss pats you on the shoulder. “You saved six good men tonight with your quick work.”

“I should just move into the ward,” you mutter under your breath before taking a large swig of coffee.  

Your dress is stained with blood, fingers aching from all the healing you’d done.  From the twelve aurors in the ambush, three had superficial wounds (Larson and Clopton included).  Two had passed in the field, another before you’d gotten to the hospital.  But all six of the aurors you’d treated, Sebastian included, were now tucked into private rooms, safe and breathing. You were keeping them for observation, unsure of what kind of curse the ashwinders had used on them.  Your ancient magic managed to seal the wounds, but all were badly scarring.  They’d all have to stay until you could rule out the cause.

After a much needed shower and an owl sent to your fiance, regretfully informing him you’d not make it to brunch with his parents, you start making your rounds. Most of your patients are sleeping deeply, others dizzily asking what happened.  You save Sebastian’s room for last; Clopton and Larson, faithful companions, are sleeping in chairs outside of his room.

You quietly shut the door behind you, gulping as you stare at the man laying in the hospital bed. His chubby cheeks are long gone, hollowed and chiseled by age. You’d laughed at him when you were seventeen and he claimed he had a beard coming in; now you can see traces of stubble lining his jaw. His unruly chestnut hair has been brushed out of his face in a way you know he’ll hate.

But you don’t know that, not truly. Because you don’t know Sebastian anymore.

“Oh Sebastian,” you tut, sitting at a stool next to his bed. You hover your hands over his body, a misty blue glow emitting from them. No internal bleeding at least. He’s had at least three blood renewing potions, and his breathing is steady. You would examine the scars across his chest and torso, but the thought of undressing him in his current state is inappropriate to you. 

You’re about to get up, leave him to his slumber when you hear it. He whispers your name in his sleep, head falling to the side. And instead of him being the one with a gaping wound, you feel like a hole has been drilled into your chest. 

Maybe you’ll ask for tomorrow off.

Night Two

You’d asked for the day off again, but the request was denied.  Begrudgingly, you dress for your shift, tucking your hair behind your ears as you walk with your daytime counterpart down the hallway.

“You’ve missed all the commotion,” your fellow healer gasps.  She’s filling you in on the day shift, and all that’s transpired since you left in the morning. “There was a memory charm laced in with that blood curse from the ashwinders—some of them have lost weeks, years of memories. Not recognizing their wives or their children; we’ve had to close the doors to all visitors.”

“That’s a nasty curse.” You mutter, flipping through charts. Only someone sick in the head would mess with memory tampering curses—you wonder why no one has petitioned for them to be banned. The long term care wing at St. Mungos is filled with too many people who’d tinkered with memory spells, and you sincerely hope none of the aurors under your care end up there.

“Terrible, of course. But it made for an interesting day.” She hums. “You should’ve seen Rowle’s wife, security had to cart her out after he called her the wrong name. Think he courted her twin sister too.” 

You laugh with her as you walk through the hallway, until your heart fills with dread.  

“How is Sallow?  The patient in 213.”

She tilts her head. “Fine I think–oh, he was asking for you.  Do you know him?”

You fight back the red flush that’s creeping up your neck. “We were schoolmates.” You say. Nothing more. Sebastian can’t be more, especially after you’d done such hard work to forget him in the first place.

After your colleague has clocked out and you’ve checked all your other patients, you quietly rap your knuckles against Sebastian’s door.  It’s late enough at night that he might be asleep already, and you can avoid the entire awkward conversation.

“Come in!” 

Shit.

You open the door, and Sebastian is staring right back at you.  He isn’t scowling like you thought he would be–his eyes are bright, a beaming smile on his lips.

“They told me you were working the night shift.” he says happily, scratching at the collar of his hospital gown. “I stayed awake.”

“Right, Mr. Sallow,” You say curtly, eyes down at the chart in front of you. “It is late, you should be getting rest–”

“But I’ve been waiting for you,” he frowns. 

You look up at him, and instead of a grown man, you see the puppy dog eyes that got you in trouble the few years you had at Hogwarts. “Mr. Sallow, rest is essential to your healing. You’ve been through quite the ordeal, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Why are you talking to me like you don’t know me?” Sebastian asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Pet, it’s me.”

You inhale sharply, white knuckling the edge of the bed. “Sebastian,” you mutter (you hate how easily his name rolls off your lips still), “what year do you think it is?”

He rolls his eyes and chuffs. “It’s 1893, duh.”

“It’s not,” you sigh. “It’s 1898. You were in an ambush yesterday, and it seems the Ashwinders are using a memory curse as retaliation nowadays.”

He blinks at you for a moment, before he bursts into laughter. “Really?  I’ve lost five damn years in my head?  What have I missed? Don’t tell me we’re not married yet.”  Only Sebastian could be jovial about such a matter; all the others were utterly distraught at losing their memories.

“Sebastian, darling, we haven’t seen each other in five years.” you confess, moving to the edge of the bed.  Your voice is quiet, and although it’s been ages since you last called him darling, you think it might be too much on his poor heart if you don’t. The poor man just asked if you were married, for Merlin’s sake.

His smile fades. “What?”

“We…we went our separate ways five years ago.” You clear your throat. “It…it was a mutual decision.” you lie.  Was it a lie?  You honestly can’t remember.

“I would never,” Sebastian bites back.  “I would never break up with you.”

“Darling, it’s been a very long time,” you say softly, wringing your hands together. “And I’m okay–you’re okay.  We’re both doing well…just on our own now.”

“I can’t–this doesn’t make sense,” he jolts away from your touch, and you flinch. “Why would I ever agree to such a thing?” 

You can recognize the tell tale signs of panic on a patient’s face, so you hurry over to the cupboard, pouring a glass of water.  Sebastian is too far away to see you slip the vial of dreamless sleep into the glass, swirling it into oblivion.

“Here, drink this.  You’ll feel much better,” you assure him. 

Sebastian absentmindedly takes the glass, gulping down the water as he tries to make sense of the current situation. “It doesn’t make sense,” he mutters under his breath as he starts rubbing his eyes.  He’s fighting the effects, and he looks up at you, a deep set frown on his face. “You dosed me, dammit.” The glass rolls out of his hand and onto the bed, where you scoop it up. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, and it's sincere.  But you’re not equipped to handle Sebastian in such a state–you aren’t equipped to handle him, period.  It’s been five years since you’ve had to mind his temper, and your heart can’t handle the pain.  

Before you know it, Sebastian is knocked out, the dreamless sleeping draught taking over his body.  With his eyes tightly shut, you can finally examine him.  The scars across his chest are still purple, bruises lining his torso.  Your fingers dance across his skin trying to heal him, but alas, they stay.

You make notes on his chart, letting the other healers know he may be groggy and upset when he wakes in the morning. Even though they’ve put a no visitors policy on the aurors, you remind them to call upon Ominis and Anne to see if they can talk some sense into him.  

The last you’d asked Natty about Sebastian, he was happy.  He was climbing up the ranks in the auror office, and he’d finally moved out of Ominis’s spare room.  You’d cut her off once she started telling you how he was dating–that you didn’t need to know.

That had been two years ago.  You wonder what’s changed since then.

Night Three

Your pleas for a night off have gone unanswered.  Your boss tells you that you’re too integral to the auror case to be gone for more than twelve hours.  

There’s a note left by your fiance’s owl; he’s sad you missed brunch, but he’s excited to take you out on Friday, your next scheduled day off.  His mother is insistent the two of you sit for an engagement portrait that will be posted in the Daily Prophet to announce your impending union.  You fold the note and toss it onto your desk; when you have a free moment, you’ll write a letter explaining that you would like a lengthy engagement.

Planning a wedding and working the night shift is just too much work for you.  You twist your large engagement ring off your finger and put it in its box before taking the floo network to St. Mungo’s.

You’re barely five steps out of the fireplace before a body hits you.  

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Anne Sallow breathes, her arms enveloping you. “You saved him. He’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“Anne,” you sigh into her touch.  Similar to her brother, it’s been ages since you’ve seen her.  She’s still thin and delicate, but her bangs are long grown out. “What are you still doing here?  It’s so late.”

“Ominis and I wanted to catch you,” she claims. “The healers called us in to talk to Sebastian.”

“Right, I asked them to.” you say, smoothing your apron. “How was he today?”

Anne winces. “He’s…he’s still pretty confused.”

You give her a sympathetic smile, biting back the sarcastic words you had in mind. “It must be awful.”

Anne pulls away, digging her toe into the ground. “He keeps asking what happened between the two of you.  I’m not sure what to say.” she admits.

You bite your lower lip. “You can tell him the truth.  That we ended amicably.  That we were fine.”

“If you were fine, you wouldn’t have disappeared for five years.” a voice says behind you.

It only takes you a second to recognize the rich voice of Ominis Gaunt.  Whirling around, you throw your arms around the tall blonde.  It’s been ages since you’ve given him a hug let alone seen him, so he chuckles into your shoulder when you grasp him.

“I missed you,” you pat his cheek.

“We missed you,” Ominis hums. “I’m surprised St. Mungo’s would call me; I haven’t been Sebastian’s emergency contact for a while.”

You furrow your eyebrows as Anne takes Ominis’s arm. Why wouldn’t he be his emergency contact?  Ominis is his best friend, and having been together with Anne for so long, practically his brother.

That’s a question for another time, you decide.

“It’s late, you two should be getting home.  Visitor hours are over.”  you remind them.

“I’m not leaving before you promise to see me again,” Ominis says sternly. “Five years is far too long.”

You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Of course. Ominis, I’m sorry.  I just thought that when things ended, the two of you were best friends…”

“That was my decision to make,” he says softly. “Not yours.  I decide whose side I’m on.”

Ominis’s words warm your heart, but they also leave cracks.  Ominis and Sebastian were a package deal when you met them, and you’ve spent far too much of your time with the boys driving them apart. 

After much coaxing, Ominis and Anne take their leave.  You’re finally able to start your rounds.  Rowle is starting to regain his memories and they’ve allowed his wife back into the ward.  Travers still has a nasty gash on his leg that’s festering, but he’s otherwise remembering things from last week.  Cattermole is fast asleep, so you avoid his room to let him get some more rest.

Your hand falters on the handle of room 213, taking a deep breath before you push in.  Just as you thought, Sebastian isn’t asleep.  He’s sitting upright in bed, arms crossed over his chest, frowning at you.

“You’re looking much better,” you offer, shutting the door behind you.

“You gave me a sleeping draught last night,” he accuses you. “That’s not fair.”

“You were getting hysterical, Sebastian.” you remind him, flipping through his chart.  Nothing particularly new, and no memories back.  He’s spent the entire day asking for you, the chart says, and fighting with orderlies.  It mentions Ominis and Anne arriving, and that the two gentlemen had sharp words for one another. Ominis was right—he isn’t Sebastian’s emergency contact anymore. There’s an unfamiliar name, a woman.

“Open your shirt, please.”

Sebastian waggles his eyebrows at you. “Are you sure we’re not together?”

You roll your eyes. “Your cheekiness, I didn’t miss it.” you mutter, hands on your hips. “I need you to take your shirt off so I can check your wounds, you idiot.”

Sebastian gives you a familiar grin as he unbuttons his pajama shirt; he’s flexing his muscles, you can tell.  A pinch to his pectoral has him yowling, and he stops.  You grin at him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Perhaps we did break up,” he grumbles.

Sebastian’s breath stutters as your fingers prod at his scars. They’re still ugly and raised, but the color is improving. 

“I’m not sure there’s much more I can do,” you frown. “I think they’ll stay.”

“That’s fine,” Sebastian breathes. “You did always say you preferred when I was roughed up.” 

You give him a strained look. “Sebastian–”

“Please, listen to me.” Sebastian urges. “Ominis…he told me what happened between us. And I really, truly can’t believe we would let it get to that.” Your name is a gentle whisper from his mouth, and he pushes his brunette hair out of his eyes. “I didn’t mean to neglect you.”

You swallow thickly, backing up. “We were so young, Sebastian.  Let’s leave the past in the past, please.”

“Ominis and I haven’t spoken in two years.” Sebastian interjects. “He just told me.  Annie says we had a fight, and you were part of it.”

You turn around, shutting your eyes. “I don’t want to hear this,” you admit weakly.

Sebastian is rustling in his sheets; he lets out a low hiss as he adjusts his still healing torso. “If the version of me, the one that got cursed, isn’t talking to you, Anne, or Ominis…I don’t want to go back to that.  I don’t want to be that version of me.” Sebastian pleads. “If that’s the case, I don’t want to remember.”

“You have friends, Sebastian.” You remind him, turning to face him again. “You have friends, your job…” you trail off, picking up his chart again.  You pinpoint the section with his emergency contact; a woman who is likely sitting at home, worried sick over him. “You have a girlfriend, probably.  One who is desperate to see you.” There’s a lump in your throat as you try to imagine her, but your mind comes up blank.

“I don’t care,” Sebastian breathes. “She’s a stranger.”

“I’m the stranger,” you remind him. “Sebastian…I’m engaged. I’m getting married next spring.” 

That’s a lie–you and your fiance haven’t even discussed a timeline, but it seems more official to say it with a season.

The hope on Sebastian’s face crumbles, eyes wide as he stares at you.

“You’re engaged,” he croaks.

“Engaged.” The more you say it, the more it’s real. “He’s lovely.  You would like him.” Now that's an even bigger lie–Sebastian would’ve called him a prat if he met him. You appreciate your fiance’s softness and meekness, especially after having been with a firecracker hothead for most of your teens.

Sebastian is crumpled in bed, twisting onto his side. “I’d like to go to bed now,” he mumbles.  It was textbook Sebastian–whenever something didn’t go his way, he’d turn away from you in bed like a petulant child.  It’s almost a relief to see that he does the same thing at twenty three years old.

“If you ring the bell, someone will come to aid you.” You wave your wand, dimming the lights. “You can ask for someone else, if you’d like.”  

Sebastian doesn’t say anything as you shut the door, and when he does ring the bell for assistance, he requests anyone but you. It’s stupid to be upset over, it’s what you wanted–for him to stop pestering you.  

But you have a nice long cry in the potions ingredient cupboard anyways.  

The rest of your shift goes by uneventfully.  Rowle has regained his memories and will be discharged in the morning.  Cattermole finally woke up from his deep sleep and he’s on the mend, moved out of the intensive care ward. Travers has also been discharged, prescribed a salve to make sure the cut on his leg stays clean.  It leaves Roberts, Jorkins, and Sallow as your only three patients left from the case, and perhaps now your boss will let you take a night off.

Night Four

“I wanted to apologize for last night,” Sebastian says sheepishly.

“Whatever for?” You mumble, pressing a strip of gauze to his chest wound.  You’re trying a new salve recipe you’ve been working on, just to see if it’ll help break down the scar tissue.  His bruises are starting to go yellow, and if he works back up on his memory, Sebastian can be discharged from your ward.

“For being rude.” Sebastian sighs. “I’m…it’s starting to come back to me a bit now.”

You look up at him, eyebrows raised. “Is it?”

“We fought that night.” Sebastian swallows thickly. “You and me.  I can’t exactly remember what we fought about, but you threw a book at me.”

“And I hit your eyebrow.” You remind him.

“Lucky shot,” Sebastian rolls his eyes, and you have to suppress a laugh. He winces as you press the salve in; his body is still sensitive.

“I’m sorry for that.  I never got to apologize to you,” you admit, rubbing the mixture in. “But I was embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed about what?” Sebastian asks softly.

“For putting up with all of it,” you pat another piece of gauze over the salve.  Sebastian looks like a mess and he’ll have to sleep sitting up, but you’re hoping to salvage his handsome chest. There are a bevy of flower vases strewn across the room, and plenty of Sebastian’s favorite sweets piled on his bedside table.

“I see you had quite a few visitors today.” 

Sebastian nods, trying not to move too much. “Anne and Ominis again; he’s warming back up to me, I know it.” he brags. “Clopton and Larson too. I can’t believe I was paired up with two Ravenclaws as partners. That’s probably how I got all bungled up in the first place.”

“Everett said you were quite the hero,” you back away, admiring your work (and his muscles, he’s grown quite a bit since you last saw him).  “And they stayed the entire night when you first came into the ward, so I know they’re loyal to you.”

There is a silence between you two for a moment, until Sebastian breaks the tension.

“She visited earlier.” Sebastian echoed. “Rebecca.”

You turn away at the name; at least it’s not the girl you remember from your last argument.  “Rebecca is a lovely name,” you offer.  It’s all you can give him without treading into dangerous waters.  You’re engaged after all, and stuck patting balm into the chest of your former lover.

“She was distraught.” Sebastian hummed. “Hates the scars.”

You turn around, rolling your eyes. “She’s dating an auror, she should get used to it.” you scowl. 

“That’s what I said,” Sebastian laughs, trying not to move the salve covered strips. “But she wasn’t having it.  She was worried I would never look the same, so I broke up with her.”

You blink at him.  He seems completely unbothered.

“Sebastian!” You exclaim. “You shouldn’t break up with her over that alone.”

Sebastian shrugs. “Y’know, the boys filled in a few of the blanks for me.  Apparently, not very many people actually liked Rebecca and I together, so I guess it was impending anyways.”

You put your hands on your hips. “I cannot believe you broke up with your girlfriend because Everett Clopton and Andrew Larson told you to.” you shake your head. “She was your emergency contact, Sebastian.  You’ve probably been dating a while.”

“According to Clopton, I was planning on breaking up with her soon anyways.”

“Idiots, the lot of you.” You tut, washing your hands in the basin.

“We’d only been dating three months.” Sebastian interjects. “I put her as my emergency contact because I had no one else.  Ominis and Anne…well, they weren’t talking to me apparently.”

You don’t say anything, letting the water run over your hands.

“I guess I’ve been a real arse the last few years,” Sebastian echoes. “Everett said I hadn’t been quite myself since we…well, you get the gist.”

“Everyone is an arse when they’re eighteen,” you remind him. 

Sebastian snorts. “I’m sure you weren’t.”

“I think I might’ve been.” You chuckle under your breath. “Poppy always said I had a one track mind.  Only ever thought about myself, my career.”

“Well, it’s done a lot for you.” Sebastian offers. “Youngest lead healer in St. Mungo’s history.”

You roll your eyes. “The others think I’m a show off.”

“You’re gifted,” he shrugs, and a slice of gauze slips from his chest. “That’s all.”

“Lay back darling,” you advise him, stuffing a pillow behind his back to keep him comfortable. 

Sebastian does as you say, his hands balled up in fists at his side. “So, your fiance,” He trails off. “What’s he like?”

You purse your lips, pulling his sheets over his waist. “He’s nice.”

“Nice.  That’s it?” Sebastian snorts. “Surely he has some better attributes, you said yes to marrying him.”

“He’s calm, quiet.” you say, turning your back to put away the excess gauze. “He’s a junior secretary for the Minister of Magic.” turning back to Sebastian, you already know he has a smug smile on his face. “Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say,” you warn, wagging a finger.

“What?” Sebastian scoffs. “I would never say anything about an esteemed junior secretary,” he says dramatically. “Besides, you’re the one who thought it…”

“I didn’t think anything!” You laugh. “I just knew exactly what you were thinking.”

“And what is that?” Sebastian asks coyly.

“You were going to call him a pencil pusher,” you accuse.

Sebastian fakes a gasp, holding a hand to his chest. “My stars, I would never say such a thing.” 

“Stop it,” you laugh again, slapping his hand. “You’re ruining my hard work. I’ll have to do it again.”

“No,” Sebastian groans. “It’s cold.  I just want to put a jumper on, I don’t care about the scars.” he pouts.

“I need you to get better,” you hold your hands on your hips. “The auror office will have my head if I keep you here any longer when your colleagues are back home.”

Sebastian fumbles with the edge of the blanket. “And what would consider me healed?” 

“Well, I’d say besides the appearance, your physical wounds are fully healed.” You shrug. “But we can’t discharge you until your memories are back–or at least substantially returned.”

Sebastian is quiet, and he stays quiet until you finish putting away all your supplies.  You’re about to leave him, implore him to get some rest, when he clears his throat.

“Pet,” he says cautiously (he hasn’t used your old nickname since the second night of his stay).  

“Yes, Sebastian?” You ask, slipping your hands into the pocket of your apron.  When you look at Sebastian from the doorway, he doesn’t look like a twenty three year old man.  He looks like the Sebastian you used to know–the hotheaded eighteen year old who only ever got shy around you.

“Would you…could we be friends after this?” He asked lowly. “I know you said we haven’t seen each other in five years, and I know there’s some blame there on my end. But we’ve been through so much together, and you’ve saved my life.” he rambles. 

You once told yourself that if Sebastian Sallow ever came crawling back, you’d slam the door shut in his face.  The first year of your separation had been excruciating; the second had been dreadful.  Once you’d gotten on to your third year without him in your life, the pain had become bearable.  And once you’d gotten on to four years without him, you realized you didn’t think of him anymore.  In fact, you hadn’t thought of him at all until you saw him standing a few paces away from your tea table.

“Of course, darling.” You assure him. “Only if you promise me that you’ll actually sleep.”

Sebastian’s face lights up in a way you distinctly remember–the first time you’d seen it was when you arrived in Feldcroft to meet Anne when you were both fifteen.  He adjusts himself to the pillows as you wave your wand to dim the lights. 

You shut the door behind you, letting out a sigh when you’re out of sight.  You feel guilty calling Sebastian darling again–you’ve never even blessed your own fiance with his own nickname.  And despite your refusal of the situation, you can’t help the shiver you feel at the base of your spine when you hear Sebastian calling you pet again.

Perhaps being friends is not a good idea.

Night Five

Sebastian is asleep when your shift starts, and you nearly skip over his room.  But against your better judgment, you push into the door, knocking lightly.

The brunette man is slumped over, snoring lightly as if he were waiting for you.  At the sound of the door, he jolts, rubbing his eyes. 

“Why can’t you be on the day shift?” he complains sleepily. 

You chuckle. “I can leave you, let you get some rest.”

“No,” Sebastian clears his throat. “I’d like you to stay.” He shrugs off his shirt, proudly displaying his scars. “They still look like hell, but at least they aren’t purple anymore.”

You stride over, running your hands over them.  Your ancient magic was able to overpower the bleeding curse, but Sebastian will forever have a dip in his chest and bubbled over scars.  They’re at least turning pink, a much better place than they were a few days ago.

“They look great,” you pat his shoulder. “And once we get your memories back in order, we can get you home.”

Sebastian gives you a strange look. “Ominis came again during the day…filling in the blanks again.”

“And?” You ask softly, sitting in the chair next to him.

“Why did we break up?” Sebastian asks firmly. “Can you tell me? And don’t give me the whole spiel about us growing apart.  I want the details.”

You swallow thickly, looking down at your hands. “We were eighteen, Sebastian. I was careless, you were lonely, we were both focused on our careers and not on each other.” Truthfully, you had spent years thinking of the many ways you’d address this conversation, how you’d confront him if you ever saw him again. Now five years later and after having almost witnessed Sebastian’s death, the downfall of your first love is easily compounded into one simple sentence.

“You started working the night shift,” Sebastian says.

“I started working the night shift,” you echo. “I wanted to rise up quickly in the ranks, so I volunteered. I was working so many hours, and you were gone during the day at your job, so we barely saw each other.”

“I asked you to take time off.” Sebastian adds.

“And I said no.” you admit. “I told you that you were being insecure.  That my job was more important, because I was saving lives.” It’s one of the few shames you’ve compartmentalized over the past few years–that you’d ever downplayed the importance of his career compared to yours.

“I went out that night.” Sebastian whispers, looking at his hands. “And I didn’t come home until the morning.”

“It was my only night off of the week, and you came home at four in the morning, stinking of firewhiskey and perfume.” Your eyes shut, replaying the awful scene in your head.

“Did I?” he croaked. “Did I cheat on you, really?”

“No,” You shake your head, and he lets out a relieved sigh. “You said you could have.  You said you wanted to.” You add, rubbing the temples of your forehead. “That you were tired of living in half of a relationship, and that you’d wanted to kiss that girl.”

“You threw the book at me,” Sebastian says weakly. “And I smashed your mug.”

“I told you to go to her if you really wanted.” You admit. “And you left.”

“I stayed at Ominis’s that night.” he whispered. “I didn’t go to her.”

“I didn’t know that.  So I packed my things and left.” 

The silence hangs between the two of you, and all of the feelings you had at eighteen come flooding back.  After the fight, you apparated to Natty’s place, while Anne and Poppy had cleaned out your bits in the apartment. What was meant to be a one night stay turned into a week, and then more. After a month without word from Sebastian, you committed to the night shift, forsaking your friendships and social life for work.  Days turned into weeks, weeks to months, and before you knew it, you were promoted.  Sebastian Sallow was a blip in your timeline, a faded memory of teenage love.  He’d been just a memory until you saw him in Diagon Alley.  Your heart hadn’t felt anything but anger towards him until you saw his shiny black dress shoes.

“Did we throw it all away?” Sebastian asks sorrowfully.

“We became the people we needed to be.” You remind him. “Look at you, an auror.  A damn good one.  The kind that jumps in front of their partner to save them from a curse.” you assure him.

“And you’re a healer,” Sebastian inhales. “A bloody amazing one, that saved my life and five others.  I’m so proud of you.” Sebastian’s lower lip wobbles, and you know your heart is in danger.

“You seem to remember quite a bit,” You point out. “More than you let on.”

“I was talking to Clopton about you.  We thought the ambush was over, we were trying to get to a floo point so we could get Larson’s leg checked out.” Sebastian says. “I told him how beautiful you looked, and that you looked happy.” his voice cracks. 

“Sebastian.” It’s not a warning, just a statement.  A week ago you would’ve never said his name aloud, let alone thought of it.  But it feels right rolling off your tongue.

“Everett said something about you being engaged.  It’s…it’s fuzzy from there on, but I remember the fight.  And I jumped in front of him, but not just to save him.” Sebastian says, his fingers drumming on his stomach.

“Why?” You almost don’t want to hear the rest. It might upend your life entirely.

“I jumped in front of him because I knew I’d be okay.  That you would probably be at St. Mungo’s when I got there.” Sebastian said weakly.  “And I’d get a chance to see you again.”

“Sebastian, we’re different people now.” You remind him. 

“We’re better now.” Sebastian says, giving you pleading eyes. “I was an idiot when I was eighteen; I thought I was being a man, but I wasn’t.  And I’m not going to pretend that I’ve been happy the past five years–there hasn’t been another woman who’s made me feel the way you do.” he confesses.

“It’s been too long,” you try to say, but you know it's no use trying to argue with him.  From your first fight in the Undercroft at fifteen to the fight that broke you two up, Sebastian has never backed down.

Before you even realize it, Sebastian has reached his hand out, taking yours. He’s rubbing your left ring finger–the one missing your large, ostentatious engagement ring.

“Don’t marry him,” Sebastian croaks. “Please, don’t marry him.”

“Why?” you ask.

“Because I understand you now.” Sebastian says. “I understand you in a way I didn’t when I was younger.  And that’s good–it’s good for us now.  It wasn’t the right time then, but we could try again now.” he pleads.

“Four days ago when you saw me in Diagon Alley, you could barely look at me.” You remind him. “I should have you committed to the memory ward at this point.”

“Four days ago when I saw you, I was sick to my stomach with how happy you looked.” Sebastian admits. “I saw you from a distance, smiling at Larson and Poppy.  I couldn’t look you in the eye after seeing you smile.”

You want to tell Sebastian that your fiance is a good man.  That he loves you, cherishes you, and doesn’t fight with you.  But you can’t help being nostalgic as you hold the hand of your first love, who is currently begging you to end your relationship to risk it all again with him. Whatever strength you’ve mustered together in the last five years is about to break as his big brown eyes implore you to stay.

“Your memory seems back to normal,” you change the subject, standing up quickly.  You tug your hand out from his, smoothing your clammy palms against your apron. “I’ll put you down for discharge in the morning.”

“Don’t,” Sebastian warns. “Don’t run away.”

“You ran away.” You remind him.

“And I regret it, every day.” Sebastian says mournfully. “You were my first love.  You were going to be my only love, and I fucked it up.”

“We both made mistakes, Sebastian.” You say, staring down at your feet. “You need to get some rest.  I’ll leave you be.”

He’s arguing as you step through the door, wringing your hands together.  The thoughts running through your head aren’t right–no, they’re crazy.  Except your feet keep walking towards the ward matron’s desk, gripping the stone top.

“Are you alright, dear?” she asks, frowning.

“I need to go home,” you confess, scribbling what little notes you have onto Sebastian’s chart. “There’s something I have to do.”

Thirty minutes later (your on call replacement is displeased to have been woken up late at night) you’re back in your flat.  Your mind is buzzing as you pace in the bedroom, thinking about the idea gnawing at your brain.

It would be insane.

You haven’t talked in five years.

He’s emotional after having been saved from the brink of death.

He broke up with his girlfriend on the spot, because she wasn’t you.

Sebastian is most well known for his unwavering support and adoration.  At least he was when you were younger.  Sebastian had always been encouraging, cheering you on through crossed wands, battles in the highlands, and even when you got your first job offer from St. Mungo’s. He’d been crazy about you–obsessed with you, even.  The two of you had been the couple of your year when you graduated.  

Sebastian had only ever faltered once, and it ended your relationship.

Don’t marry him.  

The words replay in your mind.  It makes you realize your stomach has flipped more in the last four nights than it has in years.  That your even tempered fiance, a kind but boring man, has not once made you feel what you’ve felt in the past week being back in Sebastian’s presence.

It is insane, you think. But you’d rather take feeling than nothing at all.

Digging through your dresser, you pull out the box holding your engagement ring.  

Night Six

It has been a long, long day.

What time you would have spent sleeping is spent assuring your now ex-fiance that nothing untoward has happened.  That you appreciate his kindness and companionship over the past year, but that you cannot lie to yourself. 

You cannot marry him because you don’t love him as you should.

You prepare for the night shift with a spring in your step, because when you get there, you’re heading straight to Sebastian’s room.  You’re going to tell him what you’ve done, and hope that he’s still feeling just as crazy as you. You pull your hair into its usual bun, wishing you could wear something a little nicer to what will be your reunion.  Sebastian used to love when you wore green; perhaps you’ll buy a green dress the next day you’re off.

When you get to the ward, it’s quieter than usual.  Holding your wand between your teeth again, affixing the white apron, your heart beats out of your chest as you approach room 213.  

This is it.  This is the start of the rest of your life.

You push through the doors of 213, but your breath stutters when you see the empty bed.  It’s stripped of any linens, and all of the flowers and candy boxes Sebastian’s colleagues sent are gone.

“Where is the patient in 213?” you whip around, grabbing the closest orderly.

They give you a curious look. “Discharged this morning–you put it in their paperwork.”

You swallow, and it feels like shards of broken glass are tumbling down your throat. “I…I did.”

“Isn’t today your day off, too?” They tilt their head at you. “Honestly, it feels like your head hasn’t been screwed on at all this week. Might want to take some focus potions, ma’am.”

“Uh, right.” You admit, turning red.  You were so excited at the prospect of seeing Sebastian again, you completely forgot that Fridays were your nights off from the ward. You were rather busy after all, imploding your life. “”Does it say who picked him up?”

They shrug, flipping through the charts again. “He was taken to his home in Diagon Alley by his sister and brother-in-law.”

You curse under your breath as you try to plot a plan.  There’s no way Ominis still lives in the small flat he had when you last saw him, and you have no idea where Sebastian lives.  The ward doesn’t have an address either, so you’re shit out of luck.

Unless…unless you were to find one of his loyal partners.

Apparition is frowned upon inside of St. Mungo’s, but you’ll take a scolding from the matron ward on Saturday. You immediately apparate to the Leaky Cauldron, where most of the ministry’s aurors spend their evenings.  You know this because you’ve been avoiding the biggest pub in Diagon Alley for five years, hoping not to run into your ex.

The crowd stares at you in your St. Mungo’s uniform; you push through throngs of ministry employees, all wearing fine suits and dresses from their day jobs.  Your eyes scan the room, heart losing hope by the second, until you spot Everett and Andrew sitting with a gaggle of your classmates from Hogwarts, Natsai Onai included.  Andrew elbows Everett at the sight of you, and Clopton beams as if he’s won a bet.

“Hi,” you say breathlessly, approaching the group. 

“Figured you might turn up.” Larson teased. “Gaunt, Clopton, and I had a bet on how long it would take.”

“What’s going on?” Natty asks, clearly confused. She says your name, tilting her head. 

“I need his address,” You gasp. “He wasn’t at the ward when I got there–”

“Anne and Ominis picked him up this morning.” Everett says, pulling out his wand and a paper napkin.  He aimed his wand at the scrap, delicately burning an address into the paper. “He doesn’t live far from here. Perhaps you’ll keep him from spending too much time at the pub now.”

“Who doesn’t live far?” Natty asks again, elbowing Andrew.

“Sallow, of course.” Larson winks. “You two had enough time to talk it through, yeah?”

“What the bloody hell–they haven’t spoken in five years,” Natty claims with wide eyes. She gives you a look, and you can’t do anything but shrug.

“Near death experiences will change you,” Everett says smugly, taking a sip of his tankard. “Well go on then, what are you still doing here?”

You mouth an apology to Natty; you’ll have to explain it to her someday soon.  For now, you’re pushing through the crowd, trying to get out the door.  Looking down at the napkin, Everett Clopton is right; Sebastian lives maybe a stone's throw away from the pub.  Your feet are pounding on the cobblestone of Diagon Alley, looking like a blue wisp to any passersby.  

Before you know it, you’re turning onto his street, with only the lamps in front of each door illuminating the numbers.  You stop, gasping for air, trying to find the right one.  Of course he’s at the end of the row, a dark green door with a gold knocker.  It’s late now, the sky pitch black, as you start pounding.

It takes only thirty seconds for the door to swing open; Anne is standing behind it, looking shocked.

“You’re here,” she breathes.

“I told you she would,” you hear Ominis yell from the inside. “Clopton owes me ten galleons.”

“Can I come in?” you ask.

Anne bites back a smile. “Of course you can.”

You walk into Sebastian’s home; despite having never seen it, it positively reeks of him. There are touches of him all over the house–from the books stacked in the hallways, to the shoes messily kicked in the parlor room.  He has trinkets from his travels on the mantle, and you can see he still leaves his teacups all over the house (something you once fought over–it seems endearing now).  

Ominis is in the sitting room, lounging on a chaise. “Took you long enough.” he says teasingly. “I was rather surprised you abandoned him last night.  He was absolutely bereft when we picked him up in the morning.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you admit sheepishly, digging your toe into the carpet. “I…I just had something I had to do first.”

“A break up and a make up in one day, you’re a busy woman as always.”

“Shut up.”

Ominis gives you a toothy grin; something he saves only for those he loves. “I missed you.” he stood, pulling you into a tight hug. “I can only hope Sebastian doesn’t bungle it all up and we lose you all over again.”

You press your nose into Ominis’s shoulder; it seems silly you ever thought you could live without this group of people in your life. 

“I thought you were mad at him,” you say, pulling back to look up at the blond.

“I was mad that he was being stubborn,” Ominis says softly. “That he wasn’t being himself, drinking every day and dating girls who weren’t right for him.  I told him he had to pluck up the courage to speak to you again, or get over it and make peace with his life.  He’s been rather stuck, as you can imagine.”

You have been too, you think.

“Is he upstairs?” You ask, turning to the slim staircase. Anne is standing next to the railing, giving a signature Sallow smirk.

“He might be asleep,” Ominis warned. “But he is. First room to the left.”

You squeeze his hand in thanks before walking up the stairs.  The floor creaks underneath you as you push in the door; Sebastian is laying in his bed, sleeping fitfully. You nearly knock a stack of books over as you kneel next to his bed; you also recognize the book on his side table, the spine dented from when you threw it at his face five years ago. It reminds you of the shattered mug you keep on your desk.  Perhaps you two have been subconsciously keeping pieces of each other around.

Sebastian stirs as you brush his brunette hair out of his face.  He opens one eye, then the other, blinking furiously as he tries to sit up.

“You’re here,” he groans, a hand flying to his torso. “Is this a good visit, or just a hospital house call? Because my scars are killing me now that I’m home.”

You give a watery chuckle. “It can be both, if you like.”  You pull the blanket aside, examining his puckered skin.  The scars will stay for good, but that’s fine.  You did always like it when Sebastian was roughed up anyways.

“You’re here.” Sebastian repeats, only this time it's softer.

“I had to go to the Leaky Cauldron to get your address from Clopton.” you admit, blue waves emitting from your fingertips as you try to take away some of the physical pain. “But yes, I’m here.”

“By the sound of our last conversation, I thought you were done.  That we were just going to have to live with our mistakes.” Sebastian breathes.

“I wanted to say more, but there was something I had to do first.” you sit on the bed; Sebastian adjusts to give you more room, taking your hands in his. “I had to give back the engagement ring.”

“You did?” Sebastian asks hopefully.

“Seeing you…being around you for the first time in five years…” You’re trying to compound all of your feelings in a simple sentence, but it doesn’t feel like enough. “It made me realize I just didn’t love him.” You confess. “I shouldn’t feel the way I’ve felt seeing you.”

“Pet,” he murmurs, putting a hand to your cheek. “You’ve saved my life. I can’t ask anything more from you.”

“Then can I?” You ask, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes as you place your hand over his. Sebastian’s hand is warm and familiar, fitting perfectly against you.

“Ask me anything,” Sebastian echoes.

“Let’s try again.” you whisper.  

Sebastian scoots over, making space on the bed for you.  You don’t care if anyone else has slept in it over the five years you’ve been apart; something about the way Sebastian melts against your touch tells you he’s only ever belonged to you in the first place. 

“Let’s try again.” Sebastian whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss to your lips.  It feels positively electric, like it’s awoken something that’s been dormant inside you for five long, sleepy years.  You take good care not to press too much of your weight onto a still recovering patient, but Sebastian does everything in his power to draw you closer.  His hands start pulling pins out of your hair, the tight bun coming unraveled as he weaves his fingers through your tresses.

“You’re still healing,” you remind him as he starts working on the buttons of your dress. “And your sister is downstairs.”

“I don’t care,” Sebastian murmurs into your skin, tugging your collar down to press a kiss at the base of your neck. “We’ve waited long enough, haven’t we?”

You have, you think.  So you let Sebastian ravish you with kisses, blushing when you hear Ominis loudly call up the stairs that he and Anne are leaving.  You only leave the bed to unlace your dress, Sebastian eagerly watching as you strip the fabric from your body.  He groans in a good way when you press kisses to his chest, fingers dancing across the scars on his chest.  Not all scars would disappear, and there would always be reminders of the past.  But it was good to acknowledge them, to know that they were there, and that they were healed.  

The two of you stay awake the entire night reacquainting yourselves with each other’s body; the sun is streaming through Sebastian’s curtains when you realize you’ve been awake since Thursday night, running off adrenaline. Your eyes begin to droop as Sebastian presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Go to sleep, pet.” he whispers. “I’m right here.”

You’ll have to call in again, you think. You need an entire day of sleep after this week.  And the next time you get to the ward, you’ll turn in your official notice, asking to move to the day shift.

[babygaunt]

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A post shared by Stephanie Bonnètt|Artist|Commissions Open 👽 (@stephaniegbonnett)

Beautiful 😻🍭💖😹🐝.

This is how Hogwarts legacy should end with 🐍🪄🌟🌠🐑🔮

Threesome...I mean triangle love🍷🔔🥂💋

[blueseachelle]

A Comforting Hand

Garreth Weasley x MC! Reader

Summary: After saving the Wizarding world from the danger of Ranrok, life seems to not get any better. Now, everyone has this image of her she has to maintain. Now alone because of the loss of Professor Fig and with issues she faces with her Slytherin friends, she feels broken. Well, thankfully a certain Gryffindor boy accidentally stumbled upon her broken self on a cold winter's night.

Shattered. That's how Y/n would describe herself so far. She lost so much in one year even though she helped so much. She's The Hero Of Hogwarts for Merlin's sake. Yet, she hated the title because of the pain that came with it. She didn't ask for her powers. She didn't ask to be tossed into a war between good and evil. With the struggle, she lost her father figure, Professor Fig, and her best friends, Sebastian and Ominis. It ate at her. Yet, she had to smile for the people and other students. Y/n couldn't even cry in her dorm room anymore. Since she shares it with other students, the façade had to be maintained at all times. No relaxing. That's why she usually doesn't stay there anymore. She can't sleep anyway because of the memories and nightmares that play on repeat. She usually wanders the halls or goes to the Room of Requirement and/or Professor Fig's old office. Tonight was different. Winter has finally shown itself. A gentle snow consistently came down at night now. Y/n felt numb. She tightened her scarf around her neck and covered her mouth and nose. The cold helped her feel something. She needed the grounding feeling it provided her. Y/n was sitting in the court yard for an hour or so. She just sat staring off into space. She heard the sound of crunching snow in the distance but chose to ignore it. The crunching got louder and louder until it was right next to her. She didn't look up. "Well, if it isn't The Hero of Hogwarts. Are you looking for Dittany Leaves too?" Y/n eyes just cast to the ground. She knew the familiar voice. It was Garreth Weasley. She didn't talk to him much but, he was nice from what she heard. She just shrugged and rasped out, "I guess so." Garreth looked at her with a concerned look. He brushed off the snow from the seat next to her and sat, "Hey, Y/n. You doing okay? You seem out of it." Y/n pulled down her scarf and just gave him her perfected fake smile, "All good! Need something, Garreth?" The redhead boy narrowed his green eyes at her, "Yes. I need you to be honest with me. Y/n, I'm asking friend to friend, are you doing okay?" Y/n knew he could see through her so her face dropped, "I would tell but, I don't want it circulated through every house." Garreth set a hand on her back, "Trust me, Y/n. I won't tell. I worry for your well-being. Ever since the end of our fifth year, I could tell you were off. I just could never catch you with a chance to talk. It's kind of hard to find you when you are always on the move and doing something. Everyone else might think you're okay but, I can see otherwise. Let me be here for you." The (H/c) colored girl looked up at him. Tears formed in her eyes. "I lost everything, Garreth. My Professor, my closest friends, everything. I never asked to be here and have this power. I hate being called the Hero of Hogwarts. All I associate it is with pain. I hurt, Garreth. I've been holding it in because it's expected of me. I'm tired. So very tired." The tears were unstoppable as they streaked down her cheeks. Then, she felt warm arms wrap around her and pull her closer to him, "Listen to me, Y/n. You are human. You deserve to have emotion. I'm sorry you have no one to talk to about this. I'm sorry everyone up holds this unrealistic vision of you. I'm sorry that everything was lost but, you aren't going to be alone anymore. I will be here, Okay? I want to be. Don't think I'm using you like others have. I want to help you. I ask nothing in return. Just let me be here for you." Y/n sobbed into his chest. He held her close, whispering that everything was okay and to let it all out.

"That's how you and daddy do together?!?"

A little girl looked up at her mother. Her (E/c) eyes sparkled with innocence. Y/n patted her bright red curly hair and smiled,

"That's right. We have been beside each other's side ever since."

"I hope my love rescues me like daddy saved you! Like a knight in shining armor."

Garreth chuckled from behind them. He walked behind his seated wife and hugged her. He rested his hands on her pregnant belly and kissed her. She giggled. Garreth rested his head on hers and looked down at his daughter who sat on the carpeted floor with coloring pages scattered about her,

"Yes, very much a knight in shining armor but don't be mistaken, I needed Mommy as much as she needed me. When you get as strong and independent as Mommy was, you'll understand. Sometimes the strongest people need help and that's okay. Okay, Millie?"

The girl nodded with a big smile,

"It's equal! Give and take! That's the best way. Never one-sided!"

Garreth smiled with Y/n. For a 2-year-old, they were raising her right. Garreth was thankful that she was as smart as her mother. He remembers the stories his mother told about him at that age. Yet, his little girl is already a smart cookie. He kissed his wife's cheek and sighed,

"I sure hope it's a boy. I'm feeling out numbered here."

Y/n giggled as she rested a hand on her stomach. She sighed,

"I love you, Garreth Weasley."

"I love you, Y/n Weasley."

[henkinsjenkins]

Grounded.

Sebastian x MC /

MC x Ominis

|MC is a male Slytherin. Vaguely has oc’s settings and characteristics.|

The new year had begun welcoming in new and old students alike. Tables of the Great Hall filled with each passing moment. The newer students sat excitedly as they waited to be sorted in their house, while previous students filled the assigned tables.

“Ominis!”

The blind student turned at the sound of the voice that had broken him from his thoughts.

“Hello Sebastian. Enjoy your summer?”

The fellow Slythern took his seat next to his friend, shifting on the hard wooden bench to get comfortable.

“In my dead uncle’s cot? Sure, as enjoyable as that gets.” He said sarcastically but continued on more of a light hearted tone.

“I did a lot of thinking and reflecting. I want to properly apologize to you guys.”

Ominis hummed in response knowing that he still had some feelings regarding the other’s actions and choices. Ominis couldn’t fully bring himself to forgive Sebastian for his behavior, especially after everything he went through as a child, and after the constant pleading he did.

“I want you to know that even though you had broken my trust, betrayed my word, and manipulated me numerous times…I still care about you, Sebastian.”

Despite the hardship of last year Ominis still stuck with Sebastian, more or less to keep track of him. He still saw him as a brother, a very troubling one but he was family. He had already lost Anne, he couldn’t lose Sebastian too.

“That’s why I’m promising, right now, never to do anything like that again. Not to you or our friend.”

That had reminded Sebastian, he had yet to see his friend from fifth year walk in. The rest of the flowing students had settled down and the doors had closed as Headmaster Black began his speech.

“Don’t tell me he’s going to be late this year too?” Sebastian commented looking around for their fellow Slytherin.

“It seems to be his running gig...”

Ominis commented hearing as the Sorting hat had begun sorting the new students into their houses.

Once introductions were over and everyone was sorted, Headmaster Black had dismissed everyone. The two Slytherin still confused by the absence of their friend.

Was it possible their friend was in danger again, the mere thought causing them to stand. Sebastian took notice and stood alongside Ominis as they followed the crowd of students outside the Great Hall.

“This is seriously weird.” Sebastian commented. Ominis immediately picked up the worry in his friend’s voice.

“Perhaps there’s a letter from him back in our rooms.” He said letting his wand navigated him through the crowd of bustling students.

However when they arrived at their shared dormitory, they found no letter. (MC)’s area was still bare with no signs of being touched and the other students hadn't seen him around the common room at all. It sent the two into a panic as they headed for the Headmaster’s office for answers.

“Pardon but may I have a moment of your time?” Ominis spoke once the two caught wind of the Headmaster as he made his way through the halls before stopping and turning around.

“If you must speak to me, do make it quick.” He snapped looking as impatient as ever but Ominis obliged quickly getting to the point.

“Our friend from fifth year hasn’t arrived, we were wondering if you knew the reason for his absence.”

“Your Friend?” He quickly cleared his throat as Sebastian shot him a disappointing glare.

“Oh! Yes, the Hero of Hogwarts. Unfortunately your friend will not be returning for the school year. Regarding his safety his parents had decided to continue his education with the Ministry.”

The look on their faces when they heard their friend would no longer be at Hogwarts was Black's que to leave.

“Well gentlemen, best be off to your school studies then.”

Turning heel the Headmaster continued on with his busy schedule for today. Leaving the two standing there heart broken.

“Why didn’t he say anything?”

There was anger in Sebastian’s voice but Ominis knew he was just as hurt as he was by the news.

“If it’s for his safety, I have no doubt that last year’s events would raise some concern about the aftermath. However it seems the decision was his parents.”

“A letter would have been nice!”

As both boys made their way back to their common room they talked about what this could mean and if they could somehow get their friend back.

I do plan on making this a series. However updates will be slow.

Part two here