Chapter Text
Though you found magic, and the peace at Hogwarts, to be fascinating you couldn’t fault your fellow students for presuming you were a squib.
Very little talent seemed to stem from you in any field, in some such as Defence Against the Dark Arts you could barely manage consistency in the most basic of spells. Herbology you seemed to manage, treating magical plants with the same nurture you used to care for your grandfather’s flowers, which at least meant you kept all your limbs. The same could not be said for Potions or Care of Magical Creatures, as you ended up in the Hospital Wing more times than was comfortable to admit across the seven years of your education. Flying just wasn’t worth mentioning. History of Magic Art was made bearable by Professor Fig, who held a kind and amused air towards your many struggles. Muggle Studies was your one triumph, unsurprisingly.
Having struggled through your O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, you were elated to be graduating from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A position in the Department of Magical Artefacts, in the Ministry, had been secured thanks to the gracious help of Professor Fig and after one raucous night in Hogsmeade with your friends, ‘the Famous Five’ you were off to London. You were overjoyed that Sebastian would be joining you, though you thought it odd considering his aptitude for duelling and defence.
Your little room was comfortable, with enough room for a plant or two, but most importantly it could house your bookshelf, crammed with your most prized possessions like a tin of sardines. You often dreamed of being an adventurer, wielding great power and defeating evil. You sank into books like a hot bath, enveloping you with so many lives you’d never get to live. Once you were settled, you started your new position.
It was interesting enough and seeing Sebastian most days brought a smile to your face. Days turned to months, as you began to cement a life for yourself in London. Occasionally you would travel, both for work and pleasure, treasuring sun and storm in equal measure with a book as your constant companion. As the years passed you found yourself having a reputation for finding and cataloguing the strange and the rare, which normally just meant something more Muggle than Magical but at least a promotion or two had been achieved. Your little room became a whole flat and you felt contended, if a little underchallenged in your current life. Sebastian had changed over the years and you spent less time with him. The decline of his sister Anne’s health had caused an intense distance in him. You still remembered the day Sebastian came frantically through the chimney to tell you what had happened in Feldcroft. Anne had been your dear friend too, and you still wrote to her occasionally. It had been something of a quest to find Anne a cure during school but you had all laid it to rest at her insistence sometime in Seventh Year. Or so you’d thought.
Four years into your job at the Ministry, you remember two things happening. There was a metaphorical explosion in the Auror department that had everyone gossiping, something of a failed mission with bad intel ending in 5 deaths and one maimed and cursed for life. Sloane? Smiths? An S named somebody had been the only one to survive and had subsequently hung up his badge for greener, less dangerous pastures. Shock had rippled through departments, the sole survivor being known as unflappable and yet nothing the Ministry said could get him to stay. As the gossip died down, you suddenly found Sebastian at your desk intentionally seeking your company for the first time in almost a year.
“Well Hello Mr Sallow,” You say brightly, trying to give him an earnest smile.
“Hello Eliza, how have you been?” He said quietly, mirroring your smile.
‘Small talk? Really Sebastian?’ You thought to yourself.
“I’ve been marvellous. Now what can I do for you? I have a feeling this isn’t a work related inquiry?” You say bluntly, going for shock and humour as you often did.
“Uh well it isn’t really appropriate to discuss here. Can I take you for a drink after work? The Leaky Cauldron perhaps?” Sebastian replied sweetly, echos of your old friend shining through.
I nodded, grinning at him, “I’d never be one to say no to a free butterbeer!”
With that, he’s gone.
‘How strange, I wonder what on earth he wants’
A few hours passed and you were sitting opposite Sebastian in a dark corner of the Leaky Cauldron, staring anxiously into your Butterbeer.
“So,” He starts, “It’s about Anne. I think I’ve found a cure, or at least part of one.”
‘And I thought I was the one prone to bluntness?’
The conversation that followed changed your life in a way that you could never have anticipated. Salazar Slytherin had a Scriptorum and Ominus’s Aunt had supposedly died trying to find it, but Sebastian still wanted my help and Ominus’s to search for notes Slytherin might have left about Dark Magic curses. Simple enough, except when you reminded yourself someone had already met their end trying to pursue this supposed Scriptorum.
You begged him to remember Anne’s words, to reconsider. Nothing would get through to him and yet you were still hopeful. That hope damned you, as you agreed after a few nights thinking. What was the worst that could happen if three of you were there?
Crucio was the worst thing, as it turned out. The only way out was to cast it on another, hence the death of Ominus’s aunt. You both knew he wouldn’t cast it, which left Sebastian and yourself. Refusing to cast it yourself left you with an option that the three of you could barely accept. Sebastian seemed to already have understanding of how to cast it, movements slow and certain as he whispered the incantation.
White hot pain. In your darkest moments in years to come that pain would echo like a ghost through your bones. Your body convulsed aggressively, trying to get away from the sensation of being slowly killed. The pain finally ended and you stood gruffly.
Storming through the Scriptorum, you immediately exit, seeking a brief moment to compose yourself. Whatever cure there may be, this and whatever was to come was too high a price, even if that price had not yet revealed itself. You had to stop this now before one of you ended up dead or in Azkaban.
When you told Sebastian as much, he practically exploded at you claiming that you were abandoning Anne, and it seemed Ominus had tried the same for he seemed eerily silent behind the raging man.
“I will not be bullied by someone who refuses to see sense!” You screamed, apparating back to your home.
Collapsing against your bed, you huffed in as much air as possible, slowly feeling your body calm as you drifted away into a saver land.
You didn’t see Sebastian much after that, your work hadn’t overlapped too much in the first place and now he was doing a masterful job of avoiding you, not that you were complaining. Another year passed, in which you heard and saw little of him, writing to your other friends monthly and occasionally having tea with Ominus though one thing was never mentioned.
One day, as leaves had begun to fall, a letter from Anne Sallow appeared on your desk.
‘Dear Eliza,
I was hoping you would join me for tea some time in the coming weeks, as I have missed you so.
I’m not quite sure what falling out you and Sebastian have had but I do hope it hasn’t caused you to distance yourself from me.
It shall be just us, I’m eager to show you what little changes have come to pass since you last visited.
All my love,
Your friend Anne’
Guilt filled you. Sebastian had done a heinous thing, but you had never meant to distance yourself from Anne. The poor girl had enough to worry about without losing a friend too. You hastily sent a response that you would arrive Friday week and could not wait to see her.
When Friday arrived you floo’d swiftly into the Sallows cottage in Feldcroft. Embracing Anne softly, you began to talk to your old friend, happiness filling you. Surely you could heal from what had happened and keep one twin despite the other’s behaviour. You took tea together as you chatted about your school exploits and the nonsense of the ministry. Then slowly wandered Feldcroft, supporting Anne with a firm arm link as she showed you all manner of flora and creature. It was nice to see that your friend was as content as she could be with her condition. Your visit felt tense despite your previous thoughts, a puzzle missing a large piece as you felt the familiar surroundings drain your energy, reminding you why you hadn’t come back sooner.
After an hour as you made your way back to the cottage, you heard the last voice you wanted to. You should have been more vigilant about checking there would be a complete lack of Sebastian. Steeling your resolve, you both turned to face him, shooting Anne a reassuring smile. She wouldn’t have done this on purpose, you’d just have to get through it.
Before any kind of interaction could occur, chaos materialised. Goblins appeared, seeming to be fighting with a man who you believed to be Victor Rookwood. A slimy shell of a man who was interested only in himself, you’d seen fair shares of his dirty dealings in Hogsmeade as a child. As their arguments grew and moved further away, you attempted to rush Anne back to the house. Unfortunately, before you could reach the threshold a goblin had forced you to the ground, clearly having decided he would rob you whilst his companion was otherwise engaged..
Anne yelped in pain as the Goblin turned to strike her, but before you could reach for your wand you heard Sebastian yell something, a flash of green filling your vision. You expected the Goblin to screech with pain, until you noticed the soft glaze to his eyes. Sebastian had used yet another Unforgivable, making the Goblin unable to act himself. Shock rippled through you. The Crucio, whilst horrific, had been a last resort. There was an entire arsenal of other spells Sebastian could have picked this time, Imperio was unjust. Anne looked terrified and furious, hurling insults and despair at her brother as her Uncle pulled her into the house. You now realised Solomon had witnessed the whole thing and was as shocked as you, though he was better at concealing it.
“You’re not to come here again Sebastian,” Solomon said firmly, “You’re not to come near Anne or Eliza where you can help it for that matter,”
`
Sebastian merely looked confused, “But you both have to see they would have hurt Anne”
“Too Far Sebastian,” Solomon snapped, helping you up and pushing you into the house too.
Stomach churning as the men continued to yell outside, you hugged Anne tightly and bid her farewell, begging her to write soon. You wished you could stay but you just weren’t strong enough. The world was closing in on you and all you could think was that if you didn’t leave your heart would burst out of your chest.
Choosing to apparate back to your flat, you found yourself mimicking your actions over a year ago, clinging to your bed as if the wounds were fresh, wailing into your pillow. With a brief moment of clarity you wrote to Ominus, notifying him of what happened, before crashing in your duvet, face still damp.
It would take you years to recover from everything Sebastian had done and yet it wasn’t over yet. You didn’t see him for six months after that, constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop as winter turned to spring. Your hypervigilance was exhausting, but ultimately served you, as an owl dropped a letter on your head from Anne. It was nothing more than a set of coordinates and a plea for help.
You went immediately, how could you not? What you found was soul destroying. Anne and Ominus frantically talking about Inferi and Sebastian using a relic, which you suspected he had stolen from the Ministry, something you had acquired several years ago. You told them to get help as you charged forward, using the only times you could remember from your DADA classes to just stay fucking alive. Most Inferi vanquished, as well as a lot of the light from your eyes, as you stumbled into the room Sebastian had found. He was pale and gaunt, nothing like the cheeky and bright Slytherin you knew years ago. You could feel your heart cracking, this was not your friend anymore and you could not treat him as such. His eyes lit up as he saw you, telling you of the relic’s power and the army of Inferi. He seemed not to care when you pointed out how they nearly killed you and you doubted that he had much control at all. As you kept him occupied Solomon appeared, Anne hiding tearfully behind him.
You could see it all going wrong before it even had the chance to happen. Solomon couldn’t see that Sebastian was beyond reason and kindness, as he extracted the relic from his nephew and muttered an incantation to destroy it, telling him of limits and rules. You seemed to leave your body as you watched Sebastian fill with bitter rage, deaf to his Uncle’s pleas, as he raised his wand and damned himself to the very hell you had tried to avoid years earlier.
“Avada Kedavra!” Whistled from his lips, as Solmon dropped like a pile of bricks mid sentence.
All you remember next is Anne howling, as you rushed to her and Aurors suddenly flooded the crypt, Ominus hot on their tail. Everything else was a blur. Sebastian was detained, you were questioned and then released. Suddenly, as if a cruel party trick, days had passed and you were back at your desk, Daily Prophet in your lap detailing everything on the front page, as your colleagues swarmed you with questions. You laughed bitterly to yourself, was this what that poor Auror felt like?
You, Natty, Poppy and Ominus had all attended Solomon’s funeral, Sebastian’s deeds and sentencing hanging like a proverbial axe over the whole thing. You all knew he was destined for life in Azkaban, if he avoided the Kiss of Death, but that needed feeling of justice didn’t stop the grief flooding in for Sebastian, the boy who was quick with a joke and hug. That was his funeral too really. Ominus took Anne in and it released some tension you weren’t aware you had. You loved her and wanted her safe, as did he. With time you hoped she’d heal as much as she was able.
Poppy took you aside at the funeral, hugging you desperately. She was the one you’d seen the least in the years since leaving Hogwarts and you knew she was happy having taken over from Professor Howin. Her cheery face marred with sorrow didn’t sit right with you, making it real somehow. She softly passed you a piece of parchment with a Hogwarts Insignia.
“Now isn’t really the time to open it, but I thought I wouldn’t waste an owl,” She murmurs, “It’s from Professor Weasley,”
You broke away from each other shortly after that, chatting to those necessary and getting Anne comfortable before you fled home for the fourth time in two years. Ripping open the letter, you found yourself frozen. It was a job offer to teach Muggle Studies as Professor Tourpe was retiring.
For days since opening the letter you lay curled under your covers, debating the pros and cons, until dusk on the third day when you wrote back that you would be thrilled to start in September and would await further information from Profesor Weasley.
You needed to escape your current life, even if it meant submerging yourself in your old one.