Evoke

by Sarahbx

Summary:

In her seventh year, Alora’s life is upended when Sebastian no longer remembers her. Determined to uncover what happened, she delves into a web of mystery and magic that leads her deeper into the shadows of their past. But as reality unravels, she wakes to a chilling truth she never expected.

Nothing is what it seems… some memories are just better left forgotten.

Chapter 1: I think I’ve seen this film before

"Alora, wake up, for God's sake! We're going to be late for breakfast!"

Imelda Reyes' sharp voice cut through my sleep as she shouted from the doorway. I cracked one eye open and groaned in response. Apparently, that was enough of a cue for her to leave without me. I never imagined I'd have an angry Scottish girl as my personal alarm clock, yet here we were.

The morning light filtered through the depths of the Black Lake, casting a rippling blue hue across the dormitory walls. Hopefully, today would be a nice day. The sounds of my dormmates rushing to get ready for the first day of our seventh year only further pulled me from sleep.

"Does this skirt go better with this tie?"

"Has anyone seen my hairbrush?"

I shared a dorm with Violet McDowell, Priscilla Wakefield, and, of course, Imelda. We got along well, all things considered. As much of a menace as Imelda could be, we'd actually grown close after fifth year. Violet and Priscilla, on the other hand, were practically attached at the hip—popular, especially with the boys. You could find them together almost anywhere. Despite their antics, I had enjoyed sharing a room with them over the years.

I forced myself up and took a quick shower, putting in a little effort for the first day back after the summer break. I pulled on my grey pleated skirt, just above the knee, paired with black tights, a white shirt, my green plaid blazer, and a matching tie. My black shoes completed the look, but my hair—wild as ever—was another battle entirely. I brushed it out, doing my best to tame it, and added a touch of makeup. I had to look somewhat presentable, at least.

Luckily, Violet and Priscilla had waited for me, and together we headed to the Great Hall.

As we stepped inside, the familiar, comforting aroma of fresh pastries, full English breakfasts, and sweet fruit filled the air. No matter how many years passed, it never failed to amaze me how good the food was here.

"Guys, over here!"

Over the commotion, we spotted Imelda waving from the Slytherin table. We took our seats beside her and a few of her Quidditch teammates.

"I saved you some pancakes before they ran out. Don't say I never do anything nice for you," Imelda said, winking as she slid a plate toward me.

"Thanks, Imelda. I'm absolutely starving," I replied, smiling as I dug in.

I was minding my own business, enjoying my pancakes, until Violet and Priscilla's hushed gossip caught my ear.

"Did you hear about Adelaide Oaks? Apparently, she was spotted kissing Sallow in the courtyard."

"That's nothing new—I heard he went to Hogsmeade with Samantha Dale."

My appetite vanished.

I kept my expression neutral, pretending I hadn't heard. His name alone made something inside me twist.

Sebastian Sallow.

He hadn't spoken to me since fifth year. After everything I had done for him—after everything we had been through—he had become a ghost. Our last conversation had been at the end of the year. Then, he left Hogwarts for months. When he returned, he was different. No explanation. No goodbye. Just silence.

I wasn't about to make myself look like a fool chasing after someone who so clearly didn't want to acknowledge me.

By sixth year, he'd earned quite the reputation. A player. He'd grown taller—towering over most of the school now. His shoulders broader, his build more defined. His uniform fit him perfectly, accentuating his athletic frame. His freckles, once so familiar to me, were like scattered constellations against the warmth of his olive skin, framed by chocolate curls that somehow always fell just right.

And every girl at Hogwarts had noticed.

Including him.

I tried to ignore how it made me feel, hearing about him with other girls. We had nothing to do with each other anymore. That was that. But it never made it any easier.

Not wanting to hear another word, I pushed my plate away and stood up.

"I'm going to DADA. I'll see you later."

Imelda shot me a confused look. "But you've barely touched your breakfast. This is your favorite!"

"I'm full. I'll see you next period."

I grabbed my bag and left, not looking back.

————————————-

The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom was quieter than usual when I arrived. I slid into my usual seat beside Poppy Sweeting, who was, unsurprisingly, already there.

"Good morning, Alora! You look beautiful today!"

That girl truly lived up to her surname.

"Aww, Poppy, you always know how to put a smile on my face. Good morning, love."

Poppy was a lovely soul. Kind-hearted and warm, always the gentlest person in the room. Her dark brown hair, like aged mahogany, framed her face beautifully, and her eyes—deep as coffee—held flecks of gold that sparkled when caught in the light.

Normally, Natsai Onai would have been in the seat across from me, but since I was early, it remained empty.

Until a hand landed on my shoulder.

"Is this seat taken?"

I looked up to find Ominis Gaunt smiling down at me. He had grown considerably since fifth year—one of the tallest boys in school now. His slicked-back platinum hair had gotten longer, still as icy as ever. His skin, pale as a winter storm, contrasted beautifully against his milky, unseeing eyes. He had truly grown into his features—handsome in a way that was both striking and refined.

"Ominis! Of course, please sit down. How have you been?"

"Quite well, thank you, Alora. And you?"

"I'm okay, thanks for asking."

We had drifted apart after fifth year. Occasionally exchanged letters, but it wasn't the same. I was surprised he wanted to sit with me at all. He usually kept to himself.

As he settled in, I noticed Poppy turning a shade of pink beside me.

"Hi, Ominis," she said shyly.

His eyes widened slightly at the interaction. He cleared his throat. "Oh—hello, Poppy. Good morning. I hope you're well."

Poppy beamed. "I'm very good, thank you. Hope you are too."

I glanced between them, suspicion creeping in. Was this why Ominis sat here today?

The room quickly filled as more students arrived, and soon, Professor Hecat stepped forward.

"Good morning, everyone. I trust you all enjoyed your summer. As you know, this year is crucial with your N.E.W.T.s ahead. We'll start today with a duel."

Before she could continue, the door swung open.

"Sorry I'm late, Professor."

"Ah, Mr. Sallow. Nice of you to finally join us."

Sebastian strolled in, half-eaten apple in hand. His tie was loose around his neck, his hair a disheveled mess, and—something I didn't want to notice—his lips looked swollen and red.

Laughter and whispers rippled through the room, but Professor Hecat ignored them.

"As I was saying, we'll begin with a duel. Mr. Sallow, since you were late, you can go first."

The floor shifted as the dueling platform rose into place.

"Miss Winters, you'll be his opponent."

My heart dropped.

Out of all the people in this room—why him?

Sebastian turned toward me, smirking.

"Time for a proper Hogwarts welcome "

A flash of memory hit me. Fifth year. Our first duel. It felt so familiar. And yet, it couldn't have been more different.

For the first time in two years, Sebastian and I locked eyes.

The room fell silent.

And the boy who once looked at me with love and devotion now stared through me like I was nothing.

"I'd like you both to use basic cast, Levioso, Protego, and Depulso only," Hecat instructed.

Half-heartedly, I climbed onto the platform. Two years had passed since I last looked him in the eyes, and now I had no choice but to face him. Sebastian met my gaze, and for the first time, I was forced to see what had become of him. The eyes that once held warmth, mischief, and something deeper—something that used to be mine—were now empty. A blank page. I was a stranger to him.

"You may begin!"

The moment shattered. I steeled myself. I'd beaten him before—I could do it again.

"Levioso!"

"Protego!"

I deflected his spell with ease, countering with a rapid succession of basic casts. He staggered backward, boots skidding slightly against the platform. A flicker of satisfaction curled in my chest, but I forced it down.

"Depulso!"

The blast hit me square in the chest, and I was thrown backward. Pain bloomed across my spine as I hit the floor, gasping.

Sebastian chuckled

"Have to go better than that to beat me!"

"Levioso! Depulso!"

My frustration laced the spell, and in an instant, Sebastian was sent hurtling across the platform. He landed with a heavy thud, a stunned silence washing over the room. I stood, brushing dust off my skirt, satisfaction buzzing in my veins

"I give as good as I get."

The class erupted into cheers, and Professor Hecat nodded in approval

"Well done, Miss Winters. Ten points to Slytherin. Mr. Sallow, let this be a reminder never to underestimate your opponent. Now, who's next?"

As the excitement died down, I glanced at Sebastian. He pushed himself up from the floor, rolling his shoulders before tossing his curls from his face

"Lucky shot," he muttered, voice laced with something unreadable. Then, louder, "I'd like to see you in a real duel."

The air in the room shifted. Conversations stilled, heads turned. A challenge. A provocation.

Leander Prewett scoffed. "Don't be bitter just because she beat you again, Sallow!"

Sebastian didn't react—not to the laughter, not to the looks. His gaze flicked back to me, and for a split second, something flickered there. Confusion.

As if he didn't remember.

And in that moment, I realised the truth.

Sebastian was gone.

 

Chapter 2: Smells Familiar

As the lesson ended, I noticed Ominis slipping out of the classroom faster than usual. We had Advanced Potions together next, so I figured this was my chance to catch up with him.

"Ominis, wait!" I called, pushing past the other students. I needed to talk to him—I needed answers.

But he didn't slow down. If anything, he moved even faster, weaving through the crowd until I lost sight of him altogether.

Why was he ignoring me?

Frustrated, I made my way to Professor Sharp's classroom, where I was supposed to meet Imelda. Gryffindor and Slytherin shared this class, and sure enough, as soon as I arrived, I spotted her bickering with Gareth Weasley—again. As captains of their respective Quidditch teams, they argued about practice times every other day, but something about this exchange felt different.

"Listen, Weasley, find another cauldron to use," Imelda snapped. "I'm not letting you blow us all to pieces with one of your 'brilliant ideas' again!"

Gareth grinned, completely unfazed. "Actually, Reyes, I wasn't here to steal your cauldron. I was going to ask if you'd like to go to Hogsmeade sometime. For a butterbeer. Or two."

Imelda froze. Her face turned an unmistakable shade of pink.

"Oh. I—I'll think about it," she stammered. Then, regaining her composure, she scowled. "Now go away, Alora will be here any minute!"

Gareth, looking rather pleased with himself, turned away just as I took my seat beside her.

"What was that about?" I asked, unable to hide my smirk.

She scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "He just asked me to Hogsmeade. Can you believe it? As if I'd ever go."

I raised a brow. "Ohhh, a date with Weasley? How romantic!"

"Shut it, you!" she shot back, nudging me with her elbow. "Enough about me—why did you leave so fast this morning? Everything okay?"

"Fine," I lied. "I just didn't want to be late. Though, I do need to talk to you about—"

Professor Sharp's voice cut me off.

"Alright, class. Today, we will be studying the most powerful potion in the world. Gather around the cauldron at the front."

At the center of the room sat a cauldron much larger than the others, thick spirals of steam curling from its surface. The liquid inside shimmered, its mother-of-pearl sheen mesmerizing. Some of the girls giggled excitedly, though I wasn't sure why. It was beautiful, yes, but something about it felt dangerous.

"Now," Sharp continued, "can anyone tell me what this smells like?"

Gareth was the first to speak. "Freshly cut grass, honey, and willow branches!"

Eric Northcott scoffed. "That's not what I smell. It's chocolate frogs, pumpkin pasties, and roses."

Sharp nodded, then instructed us all to take turns describing what we could detect.

Imelda went next. "Fizzing Whizzbees, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans... and butterbeer."

I glanced at her, but she kept her gaze fixed firmly on the floor, suddenly shy. Interesting.

"Excellent, Miss Reyes. Mr. Sallow, what about you?"

Sebastian stepped forward, inhaling deeply.

"Vanilla," he mused. "Parchment paper and..." He paused, taking another slow breath. "Pancakes, sir."

Instantly, Imelda's head shot up, eyes locking onto mine from across the room. Her expression was unreadable, but I could tell she was trying to tell me something.

One by one, the rest of the students took their turns, until finally, it was mine.

"Miss Winters, last but not least. What do you smell?"

Reluctantly, I stepped forward, inhaling the potion's intoxicating scent.

"Cedarwood," I murmured. "Old books and... green apples."

"Very good," Sharp said. "Now, the potion you've all just described is Amortentia—the strongest love potion in the world. It reveals the scents most attractive to you."

My stomach plummeted.

Fuck.

The realisation hit me like a stunning spell. My face burned, and I barely heard the eruption of laughter as students teased each other about their answers.

No wonder Imelda couldn't look at me before—she could obviously smell a certain red-headed Gryffindor. But me? Who had I just smelled?

It couldn't be...

Sharp clapped his hands. "We will not be brewing Amortentia today, as it is far too powerful. Now, back to your seats."

I practically bolted to my stool, heart hammering, avoiding Imelda's gaze at all costs. But she leaned in, voice barely above a whisper.

"Sallow smelt you."

I stiffened. "W-what? That's absurd, he didn't smell me."

"Yes, he did," she insisted. "It was so obvious! And you smelt him too, don't even try to deny it!"

I turned sharply to face her. "Imelda, he couldn't have smelt me."

"Why not?"

"Because he doesn't even know who I am."

 

Chapter 3: Somebody I used to know

The day had passed surprisingly quickly—thank Merlin. After lessons finished, Imelda and I returned to the common room for our usual debrief of the day's events. Pacing up and down in front of the fireplace, I tried to piece everything together while Imelda lounged lazily on the black leather sofa, watching me with mild amusement.

One could say I looked like a maniac, but I honestly didn't care.

"So, let me get this straight," Imelda said, raising an eyebrow. "The boy you spent all of fifth year with—running around, doing who knows what—has suddenly lost all memory of you?"

"Yes! That's exactly what I'm saying!" I spun to face her, my voice laced with frustration. "I know I must sound crazy, but I'm not sure what's going on or why he's done it. But it all makes sense now!"

Imelda scoffed, crossing her arms. "What makes sense, Lora?"

"Why he suddenly stopped speaking to me. Why he didn't even look at me for two years—until this morning. Why he looked so confused when Leander said I'd beaten him again."

She tilted her head slightly, considering my words. "Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe he just wants to move on?"

I stopped dead in my tracks, shooting her a glare.

"Imelda, please. After everything we went through? He wouldn't do that. He lo—"

I caught myself too late, slamming my mouth shut before I could say anything more.

Imelda sat up straight, her eyes wide with shock. "He what?"

"Nothing," I blurted out, forcing a fake smile. "It doesn't matter."

She frowned, clearly not buying it, but to my relief, she didn't push any further. Instead, I turned back to my pacing, muttering to myself as I tried to make sense of everything—until it hit me.

"Ominis!" I exclaimed.

Imelda blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I tried to speak to Ominis after Defense Against the Dark Arts this morning, but he completely ignored me—which is so unlike him."

"Maybe he knows something we don't."

I grabbed a piece of parchment from the side table, already scribbling out a note.

"I must owl him immediately! Good chat, Imelda—I'll catch you later."

I darted off to my dorm, ignoring her calling after me.

"Don't forget we're having drinks at the Three Broomsticks later!"

Ugh, I completely forgot about that stupid tradition. Celebrating the first day back at a pub? On a school night? It made no bloody sense.

Shaking my head, I sealed the note in an envelope and called for my owl.

Ominis,
Please meet me in the Undercroft tomorrow at 8:00 PM.
It's important.
—Alora

Shadow, my sleek black owl with piercing yellow eyes, took the letter in his beak before soaring gracefully out into the night. I could only hope Ominis would show up.

⸻—————————-

Later that evening, I walked to the Three Broomsticks with Imelda, Priscilla, and Violet. The night was crisp and clear, and though the cold bit at my skin, I didn't mind—it was beautiful. The sky stretched above us like a sea of diamonds, each star twinkling as if guiding us forward. I could understand why astrology was so beloved.

"It's even more lovely at night, isn't it, girls?" Priscilla sighed dreamily.

"It's stunning," I murmured, momentarily lost in the view.

Then—another flashback.

"Honestly, if one could bottle the magic of this place..."

I shook my head, forcing the memory away, and we continued strolling through the bustling village.

"I don't know if it's the shops or the people, but there's just something about Hogsmeade. We all flock to it like moths to a flame."

Why does this keep happening?

I shoved the thought aside as we finally reached the Three Broomsticks. The pub was already lively, packed with students, witches, and wizards alike, all enjoying a drink and dancing to the music. As always, it felt like home.

Behind the bar, Sirona was rushed off her feet, but she still managed to flash me a warm smile.

"Ahh, lovely Lora! How have you been? Out celebrating the first day back, I see! Can I get you girls anything to drink?"

She'd given me that nickname after I defeated Ranrok's trolls a few years ago, and it had stuck ever since.

"Hello, Sirona. I'm well, thank you! Hope you are, too. Could we get four Butterbeers, please?"

"Of course, dear. On the house! Your friends are upstairs on the second floor if you're wondering where they are."

"Thank you, Sirona."

We grabbed our drinks and headed upstairs, where I hesitated before stepping inside. I wasn't sure why, but nerves crept up my spine.

The second floor was noticeably quieter than the main pub—still loud, but at least we wouldn't have to shout to be heard. A long table had been pushed together in the center of the room, making space for our large group. The Slytherin and Gryffindor Quidditch teams were in full force, which brought a smirk to Imelda's lips. Those lot never said no to a drink.

I spotted Poppy Sweeting, Natsai Onai, and Gareth Weasley deep in conversation. Violet and Priscilla, of course, made a beeline for the Quidditch boys—typical.

Imelda, however, lingered beside me, eyes locked on a certain someone.

"Imelda! Alora! Come sit with us!" Gareth practically shouted from across the room.

A smirk crept onto my face. Oh. I see.

I turned to Imelda with a knowing look. "You okay?" I teased.

"Yes! I'm fine!" she snapped, flustered. "Let's go—we don't want to be rude, do we?"

As we walked over, Gareth jumped up, pulling a chair out for Imelda.

"Here, let me get that for you!"

Imelda raised an eyebrow. "I'm not incapable of getting my own chair, Weasley. But... thanks."

I snorted. "Such a gentleman, Gareth. But what about my chair?"

His face turned bright red. "O-oh! Sorry, Alora—I didn't mean to—I just—"

I cut him off with a laugh. "I'm only messing with you!"

Before I could sit down, a voice spoke from behind me.

"Here, Alora—I have a seat for you."

Startled, I turned to see Hector Fawley pulling out a chair. He was a handsome Ravenclaw, well-known for his wealth, charm, and reputation with the ladies. Though we shared a few classes, I'd never spoken to him much—so the gesture surprised me.

Still, I smiled graciously. "Thank you, Hector."

The night carried on, and with every drink, my nerves eased. We danced, we laughed, and for a moment, I almost forgot about everything else. That is, until I volunteered to get the next round.

"I'll come with you," Hector said quickly.

I didn't argue. "Alright—what's everyone having?"

As we made our way downstairs, I lightly grabbed Hector's arm for balance, but the crowd was thicker than I anticipated. I stumbled, bumping straight into a couple kissing outside the lavatory.

"Hey! Watch where the fuck you're going!"

I barely had time to react before I looked up, straight into the scowling face of Adelaide Oaks.

"Sorry, Adelaide, I didn't mean to—"

"Ugh, just go already!" she snapped, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Then she turned on her heels

"C'mon, let's find somewhere more private."

She brushed past me without another glance, leaving me standing there—with him.

My nerves spiked, my heart hammering in my chest. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was something else entirely, but suddenly, I felt sick. For the second time today, we were face-to-face.

And Merlin, I hated it.

I stood frozen, unsure what to do, my mind consumed by one agonizing thought—how much it bothered me to see him with her.

A few seconds passed, thick with tension. I forced myself to shake it off, dismissing the encounter like it didn't matter, like it wasn't suffocating me from the inside out. Without a word, I turned on my heel, heading toward the staircase where Hector was waiting.

Then—

"Alora?"

I stopped abruptly.

His voice. My name.

I knew he'd only re-learned it this morning, yet hearing it from his lips after all these years felt so foreign—so wrong.

Slowly, hesitantly, I glanced over my shoulder, meeting his gaze.

"Yes?"

Sebastian hesitated.

"Sorry about her."

A weak, almost hollow smile tugged at my lips as I gave him a small nod. I wasn't sure what I was acknowledging—his apology or the fact that this moment between us even existed.

I turned back, making my way to Hector without another word.

Sebastian lingered for a second longer, then disappeared into the crowd after Adelaide.

And just like that, he was gone. Again.

 

Chapter 4: Family Secrets

The morning after, I woke up with a mild headache—nothing compared to the rest of the girls in the dorm. Judging by their groans and complaints, I had been the sensible one last night.

"Please, someone remind me never to drink that much again on a weekday," Violet groaned from her bed. "I have no idea how I'm going to function today."

"Oh, don't, Vi," Priscilla moaned. "I feel so sick I can't even keep water down."

I burst into laughter at the state of us. We looked like we'd been mauled by a pack of Chomping Cabbages and dragged back to the castle by our ankles.

"How are you holding up, Imelda?" I asked, pulling my blanket around me.

"Better than I look, surprisingly," she admitted, stretching. "Gareth gave me one of his potions last night—supposedly a hangover cure. And judging by how I feel, I think it actually worked. Which is great because there's no way I can be ill for Quidditch practice later."

"Wait, what?" I raised a brow. "Weasley actually brewed something that worked? Also... you two were looking rather cozy last night." I smirked.

"I know," she groaned. "I must have been drunk to even try one of his concoctions. But, well... let's just say he's growing on me."

Eventually, we dragged ourselves out of bed and got ready for the day. As I laced up my boots, a thought struck me like a Bludger—Ominis. I was supposed to meet him tonight. Or was I? What if he didn't show? I shook the thought away and focused on getting through the day first.

I took the nearest Floo to Beast Class, where the crisp morning air immediately reminded me that autumn was creeping in.

"It's getting colder, isn't it?" Poppy greeted me with her usual enthusiasm. "How are you feeling today? Last night was so fun!"

I had no idea how she was always so full of energy, no matter the hour.

"Morning, Pops," I sighed, rubbing my arms for warmth. "Honestly? Not looking forward to standing outside for an hour. But I feel fine, really. I had fun too."

"Pardon me for saying," she said, lowering her voice mischievously, "but Hector seemed rather keen on you last night, don't you think?"

I blinked at her, startled. Poppy never missed a thing.

"It was... random, wasn't it?" I said carefully. "I think he was just being polite."

"That's not what I heard."

I frowned. "What do you mean? What have you heard?"

Poppy glanced around the class to make sure no one was listening before leaning in slightly.

"You didn't hear this from me," she murmured, "but Evangeline Bardsley told me she overheard Andrew Larson and Hector talking in Central Hall yesterday morning. Apparently, they were wondering if you were courting anyone."

I blinked. "Why would they care?"

"Oh, I don't know," Poppy teased. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you're one of the prettiest and most well-known girls in the school? You did literally save Hogwarts. Why wouldn't they be curious?"

I rolled my eyes. "Poppy, you're too kind. But I don't think anyone is particularly interested in dating me right now."

"Rubbish!" she huffed. "You can't blame them for being curious. Besides... you haven't really been seen with anyone since, well..." She hesitated. "Sebastian."

My face grew hot at the mention of his name.

"Oh—Alora, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine," I interrupted, forcing a small smile. "Really."

To reassure her, I gave her hand a quick squeeze. Thankfully, before the conversation could go any further, Professor Howin began the lesson.

The class focused on the uses of Diricawl feathers, though we ended up spending most of it chasing a few mischievous Mooncalves that had escaped their pen. It certainly warmed us up for the morning.

The rest of the day was uneventful, which, for once, I was grateful for. My headache lingered, but my mind was elsewhere. Had I done the right thing asking Ominis to meet me? Or was I setting myself up for disappointment?

             ——————————————————

"You look fine, Alora. You've got this," Imelda reassured me.

I glanced at the clock—7:45 PM.

"Shit, I'd better go, or I'll be late. I'll let you know how it goes."

Imelda gave me an encouraging smile as I hurried out. I hadn't seen Ominis all day—we didn't share any classes—which only made my nerves worse. Taking the nearest Floo to the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower, I made sure no one was following before slipping toward the Undercroft's entrance. With a tap of my wand, the familiar sound of the locking mechanism echoed, and the door creaked open. My stomach twisted with anxiety as I stepped inside.

It had been so long since I'd been here. After everything that had happened, I didn't think it was right to use it anymore—not when I barely spoke to Ominis, and not at all to Sebastian. Yet, nothing had changed. The dim candelabras cast their usual warm glow, their flickering light making the underground space feel almost welcoming despite the scent of cold stone. The triptych still hung on the wall. The bookshelf and seating area the three of us had arranged remained untouched. Even Sebastian's old desk, the one where he had pored over books and notes, desperately searching for a cure for Anne, stood exactly as he'd left it. Had any of us been back here since fifth year?

As I walked further in, something glimmered on the dusty floor. Bending down, I brushed off the layer of grime—and my breath caught in my throat.

My necklace.

The one Sebastian had given me for my sixteenth birthday.

I thought I'd lost this.

Fifth Year—Flashback

"Alright, keep your eyes closed!" Sebastian's voice was brimming with excitement.

"I am! You're making me nervous, Seb!"

Sebastian carefully placed the gift into Alora's hands

"Okay, open!"

Alora blinked, finding a small black velvet box resting in her palms. She shot him a look, smiling despite herself

"Seb... you shouldn't have."

"Only the best for my girl," he said, grinning. "Go on, open it."

Inside, nestled in the soft velvet, was a silver necklace with a gemstone unlike anything she'd ever seen. A deep forest green, with swirling silver patterns inside—like ink dancing in water. Tiny diamonds framed the edges, making it sparkle even in the dim light. When she turned it over, she noticed an inscription.

The past beats inside me like a second heart -
Love, S.S.

"I don't know what to say... It's beautiful. Thank you, Sebastian. I love it."

"You're welcome. Happy birthday, princess."

She traced her fingers over the delicate silver.

"This must've cost you a fortune. Where did you find it?"

"A vendor in Lower Hogsfield. Some traveling wizard sold it to her, and she didn't think it was worth much, so I got it for a bargain. But, you know me—I did a little research. Turns out, it's a magical gemstone. It can be enchanted for all sorts of things."

"That's incredible! What did you enchant it with?"

He smirked. "Let's just say it holds... sentimental value."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I fastened the necklace around my neck, tucking it beneath my shirt. But the moment it touched my skin, a strange sensation washed over me.

A pulse.

A vibration.

And then—

"The Undercroft has been the perfect place to sneak off to—away from prying eyes."

"Why would I listen to someone so ignorant?"

"Please talk to the Keepers. If not for me... then for Anne."

"Whatever lies ahead of us, we must face together. That, I know."

"No matter what happens from here, I'm glad we met."

The voices—Sebastian's voice—rushed through my mind, overlapping, crashing into one another like waves in a storm. My head pounded. My ears rang. The memories flooded in too fast, too strong, until I couldn't breathe.

I collapsed.

Darkness.

Then—

"Alora! Merlin, are you okay?"

Ominis's voice. Distant. Panicked.

As if by magic, the pain vanished. The ringing stopped. My mind, still foggy, struggled to process what had just happened.

Ominis was already kneeling beside me, helping me sit up.

"Thank you, Ominis. I—I don't know what happened."

His brows knitted together

"I came in and heard a scream. I ran down, and you were on the floor."

A scream? I didn't remember screaming.

Still dazed, I forced a weak smile

"I'm fine. Really. Thank you for coming."

He didn't look convinced

"To be honest, I wasn't sure if I should... but now, I suppose it's a good thing I did. What was so important that you needed to meet here?"

I took a steadying breath

"It's about Sebastian."

His face hardened

"What about him?"

"I need answers, Ominis. Something isn't right with him."

He exhaled sharply and began pacing.

"After everything that happened in fifth year, we were fine. And then he just... disappeared. For months. No letters, no explanation. And when he finally came back, he acted like I didn't exist. He wouldn't even look at me. It wasn't until I had to duel him yesterday that I realised—"

I hesitated.

"Realised what?"

I met his gaze, my voice barely above a whisper.

"He doesn't know who I am, does he Ominis?"

Ominis stopped dead in his tracks. His shoulders slumped as he let out a long, weary sigh.

"I was afraid this day would come."

My heart pounded.

"What happened to him, Ominis? I need to know."

"It's not that simple Alora! Sebastian is different now!"

"But why is he different? What's changed! Why can't he REMEMBER ME!-"

He hesitated before finally answering

"Listen to me! Sebastian wasn't coping, Alora. After he killed his uncle, it consumed him. Nightmares. Paranoia. He couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. And then, something happened.. it got worse. He was convinced the Ministry would come for him at any moment. It was breaking him."

My stomach twisted.

"Why didn't he tell me?"

Ominis ran a hand through his hair

"Because he was barely holding himself together. And he begged me to help him."

I swallowed.

"What did you do?"

"I took him to my father." His voice was tight. "He said he could help—with the Ministry, with his mind. And he did. He removed Sebastian's memory of Solomon's death. Replaced it with a different outcome. As far as Sebastian knows, his uncle died of natural causes. The relic, the scriptorium—everything leading up to that night... it's all gone."

The air left my lungs.

"And me?" I whispered.

Ominis's jaw tensed.

"We never meant for it to happen. I don't understand the magic fully myself, but... somehow, you were erased too."

He continued

"I wasn't even aware it had removed you from his memory until we came back to school, he never mentioned you at all. I didn't want to bring you up back then incase it triggered something in him, it was still so fresh anything could have happened. But then you both went your separate ways and never actually spoke again."

"So you, of all people! Your family obliviated his memory of me, how could you Ominis!"

"What was I supposed to do! He would be rotting in Azkaban or worse, DEAD if we didn't do something! At least he's better and he's safe now, Isn't that what matters?"

I shook my head, tears burning my eyes.

"So that's it? Everything we were—just gone?"

His expression softened.

"I'm sorry, Alora. Truly. I never wanted this."

I let out a hollow laugh, blinking away tears.

"I'm a stranger to him."

Ominis gently wiped away a tear that had slipped down my cheek.

"Then make him remember."

With one last sympathetic look, he left.

And when I was finally alone, I broke.

Silent sobs wracked my body as I curled up on the cold stone floor, clutching the necklace that once meant everything.

Maybe Sebastian was free of his ghosts.

But I had just lost mine.

                —————————————————

Some time had passed, and I had finally composed myself enough to leave the Undercroft. It was nearing 9 p.m., and I hoped I could slip back to the common room undetected. Keeping my head down to avoid drawing attention, I made my way toward the steps of the Defence Against the Dark Arts tower—only to collide straight into someone's chest.

"Oh, sorry!—Alora?" A familiar voice spoke, and I looked up to meet the gaze of none other than Hector Fawley. "What are you doing here at this time of night? It's nearly curfew."

"I—uh, I just went for a walk around the castle," I said quickly, brushing off any suspicion. "Needed some air before heading back."

"That so?" He smirked, running a hand through his dark hair. "Well, I suppose it's not every day I literally bump into a beautiful girl. How are you? I really enjoyed last night with you."

I forced a small laugh

"I'm okay, thanks for asking. And yeah, me too—though I won't be drinking on a school night again."

He chuckled.

"We should do it again sometime. Just the two of us?"
"Oh—um, I'll have to think about it," I deflected. "I have a lot of studying to do for our NEWTs."
"Fair enough," he said, unfazed. "But when you're ready, I'd love to take you out." Then, after a pause, "Can I at least walk you back to your common room?"

I hesitated.

"Pretty girls like you shouldn't be wandering the castle alone," he added smoothly. "I'd feel better knowing you got back safely."

I sighed. "Alright, Hector. That's... courteous of you."

I hated to admit it, but he was persistent. And after the emotional mess of the evening, I didn't have the energy to refuse him. He held out his arm, and I reluctantly took it, letting him lead me toward the Slytherin common room. Surprisingly, the walk was pleasant. Hector was charming in his own way—quick-witted, easygoing, and undeniably confident. It wasn't hard to see why so many girls swooned over him.

We passed through the Ravenclaw Tower and onto the Grand Staircase, our conversation flowing effortlessly.

"Honestly, you couldn't make it up," he was saying, grinning. "He yanked the mandrake out of the pot and then passed out cold on the floor. Garlic had to get me and O'Reilly to drag him to the hospital wing."

I laughed. "Oh, Merlin! Was he alright?"

But the conversation came to an abrupt halt as we rounded the corner—only to come face-to-face with Samantha Dale and... Sebastian.

He had his arm draped over her shoulder, their hands intertwined as they walked. My stomach twisted. Was he walking her back to the Ravenclaw common room? Did Adelaide know about this?

Samantha's face dropped the second she saw us. I glanced at Sebastian, but he was already staring at my arm—Hector's arm. His gaze flickered upward, his expression unreadable, though something lurked beneath the surface.

Hector, never one to let tension linger, cleared his throat.

"Sallow. Samantha." He smirked. "Another good night, I see?"

Sebastian held his stare, voice flat. "You could say that, Fawley."

Hector's grip on my hand tightened slightly.

"Come on, Alora. You don't want to be late."

I glanced down at his hand, then back up—only to catch Sebastian's eyes once more. Something flickered there, something unspoken, but it vanished before I could decipher it.

Hector gave a saccharine smile

"Well, we'd best be off. Have a lovely evening, the both of you."

As we walked away, I dared one last glance over my shoulder. Sebastian had turned too—just for a second—before Samantha tugged him toward the Ravenclaw tower, leading him away.

 

Chapter 5: I’ve got my eye on you

Notes:

Sebastian’s POV

I sat at the table my Quidditch teammates had shoved together in the middle of the room, finally able to relax. After the day I'd had, a drink was exactly what I needed. Even now, I wasn't sure what to make of it—of her. Who was she?

She was stunning, no denying that. But what I found odd was how I hadn't noticed her before. I knew all the girls in our year—some more intimately than others, if you catch my drift—but she just seemed... familiar. I couldn't put my finger on it.

Thinking back to this morning, I recalled the warmth of her long brown hair, how it caught the sunlight, flowing down her back like silk. And her eyes—Merlin's beard, her eyes. When she looked at me, it felt like my whole world was reflected in them. I had to put on my best poker face; otherwise, I would have drowned in those ocean-blue depths. There was something different about her, something that set her apart from the rest. Winters, wasn't it? I needed to know her name.

Firewhiskey in hand, I sat in The Three Broomsticks, still mulling over our duel. What did Leander mean by "beat you again"? I'd only laid eyes on her for the first time that morning—I'd never dueled her before. Yet, the way everyone had looked at me afterward, as if they knew something I didn't, unsettled me. I racked my brain, but none of it added up. Should I ask her? Maybe Ominis—Gossip Gaunt himself—would know. He knew everything about everyone. I'd have to speak with him at some point. Or maybe, if I was lucky, she'd show up tonight.

"Cheer up, Sallow! What's with the face? Still sulking because you got your arse handed to you by a girl?"

Dymitri Milov—or Milo, as we called him—clapped a massive hand on my shoulder, shaking me slightly. He was built like the very stones of Stonehenge, a towering six-foot-three Durmstrang transfer who had joined our Quidditch team last year. The best Beater Hogwarts had seen in decades. I had no idea what they fed them in Russia, but whatever it was, it worked.

"Piss off, Milo. She got lucky," I scoffed, smirking.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night. But mate, you went flying. Funniest thing I've seen in ages."

Normally, as the best duelist in school, I wouldn't tolerate that kind of talk—but I had to admit, she did get me good. And if I was being honest, I wouldn't mind if she did it again. As many times as she wanted.

I downed the last of my firewhiskey and finally voiced the question that had been gnawing at me all evening.

"Hey, Milo, do you know her name?"

"Winters, isn't it? Alora Winters."

Alora.

I laughed to myself, shaking my head as a smirk tugged at my lips. Even her name was beautiful.

The night carried on, and the second floor of the pub was as lively as ever. Hogwarts students crowded the space, drinking, dancing, celebrating the first night back at school. It was tradition. I stuck with the lads, catching up on the latest Quidditch scores, discussing new broom models, and, most importantly, finding out which of this sorry lot had managed to get their dicks wet over the summer.

"Go on, then, Cooper, who was it?" Noah Turner goaded.

"She's in our house," Ellis Cooper admitted, grinning. "Priscilla Wakefield. You'll know her when you see her."

Noah's face lit up. "Is she coming tonight? You're definitely getting your dick sucked later."

Right on cue, Priscilla and her ever-present sidekick, Violet, sauntered toward us. They were inseparable—unless one of them was off shagging someone. And there were plenty of stories about that.

They were nice enough, but let's be honest—most of the lads had already had their turn with both of them. They weren't exactly the shy type. Thinking about it, I was probably one of the few in our year who hadn't? Strange, considering my track record. Not that they weren't attractive—Priscilla was blonde, her hair shimmering like spun sunlight, with striking green eyes like polished emeralds. Violet, on the other hand, had raven-dark hair cascading in perfect waves, her golden-brown eyes warm like honey. But for some reason, neither of them ever paid me much attention.

"Here she comes, Cooper. Get ready," I teased.

"Is her fit mate with her?" Noah asked, eyes gleaming.

"Of course. They don't leave each other's side."

Noah perked up as the two girls reached us.

"Hiii, Ellis," Priscilla purred.

I exchanged a knowing look with Noah as Ellis smoothly pulled Priscilla in, planting a kiss on her cheek. She turned pink instantly, practically preening under his attention.

Meanwhile, Violet found herself standing between me and Noah. I subtly motioned for him to make a move. It took him a second, but eventually, the dimwit caught on.

"Hey, Violet, is it? I don't think we've officially met," he said, flashing a charming grin. "I'm Noah Turner. Pleasure."

Violet giggled, clearly enjoying the attention. "Nice to meet you, Noah."

"Can I buy a lovely girl like you a drink?"

"That's so sweet of you. A butterbeer would be nice, thank you," she beamed.

Feeling like the fifth wheel, I turned away, scanning the crowd for the quickest route to the boys' lavatory. But then—

I froze.

There she was.

Standing at the top of the staircase, next to Imelda, laughing at something Weasley had said. Merlin's bloody beard, she was breathtaking. I gave Imelda a casual nod when she met my gaze, but my focus snapped back to her.

I wanted to go over. Say something. Anything. But then—I saw him.

Hector fucking Fawley.

He pulled a chair out for her. And she took it.

I clenched my jaw, exhaling through my nose. Shit. I couldn't go over now.

Were they courting? Now that he'd broken things off with Samantha, was she his next conquest?

"Sebastian! There you are!"

Adelaide. For fuck's sake.

She threw her arms around me before I could react.

"I missed you, handsome," she cooed.

"Mhm. Missed you too," I lied.

We'd been shagging for a few weeks—strictly casual. At least, I thought it was. She, on the other hand, was obsessed. Always wanting more. I had told her countless times that wasn't happening, but she just didn't get it.

The night dragged on, and I drank more than I should've, trying not to look at Alora.

But she was all I could think about.

"Come on," Adelaide purred, tugging on my sleeve. "Let's go to the lavatory."

I sighed.

"You're drunk, Adelaide."

"So?" She pouted.

"You need the lavatory, or are you just being annoying?"

She huffed.

"Fine. Walk me over."

I held her hand—not out of affection, but because I wasn't about to let her stumble into someone and cause a scene. I waited outside, finally catching a moment of peace. But my attention drifted back to her.

She had just finished dancing—with him.

I exhaled sharply. What does she even see in that bastard?

Adelaide suddenly stumbled out, grinning like an idiot.

"There you areee!"

And before I could react, she grabbed me and kissed me.

Right in front of the whole fucking room.

I barely had time to pull away before—

Shove.

I staggered back against the wall.

"Hey! Watch where the fuck you're going!"

"Sorry Adelaide I didn't mean to-"

Confused as to what just happened, I looked down and there she was. Alora Winters was right in front of me.

"Ugh just go already! C'mon Sebastian let's move somewhere more private"

Adelaide stormed off but I didn't follow, I stood there staring at the girl from this morning. For the second time today I got to stare into those big blue eyes, I was absolutely drowning in them and I wanted her to save me. I didn't want the moment to end, I could quite easily stare at her all day if she'd let me. Drinking her in, all I could think about was how soft her lips looked. I could have kissed her right there on the spot, she was even more enchanting up close. She smelt just as good as she looked, notes of vanilla and ...pancakes? Both combined in perfect harmony flooding my nose, where did I recognise that scent from? I realised I hadn't even said one word to the girl, I was just stood in silence, appreciating her beauty. What was she doing to me! Bringing myself back to reality, I noticed she had a look on her face I couldn't quite understand, what was wrong with her? She looked almost upset by something.

A few seconds had passed by and she broke the eye contact without a word spoken from either of us, I looked on as she started to walk to the steps to meet Hector. Now's your chance Sebastian! Speak to her, I thought to myself. There was so much I wanted to say but I just couldn't get the words out. My mouth was becoming dryer than sand in a desert, this doesn't normally happen to me? Why was I this nervous? I just about managed to speak her name.

"Alora?"

She froze in place. It took her a minute or so, but she turned her head slowly and glanced at me from over her shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Sorry about her"

That's all I could say.

She smiled and gave me a slight nod in appreciation of my apology, then turned back around to continue on her way to Hector. I watched her there for a split second, should I say something else? I decided against it and walked after Adelaide through the crowd, wondering when i'd speak to Alora again.

——————————

"Sebastian! Get out of bed—you're going to be late!"

"ARGH! What the fuck was that for?!"

I was rudely awakened by a book slamming into my head. Ominis had thrown it, which was impressive considering he was blind.

I groggily checked the time—8:55 AM.

"Fuck."

That was two days in a row now. I scrambled out of bed, only to be hit with the full force of a killer hangover. My skull throbbed as if a Hippogriff had kicked it in, though getting smacked with a book probably didn't help either.

I threw on my uniform as fast as humanly possible. How the hell was I supposed to get through a full day of classes and Quidditch practice with my head feeling like this? I'd skipped breakfast—again—but managed to snatch a green apple from the fruit bowl in our dorm before rushing off to Herbology.

Not my favourite class, but I didn't mind it either. Professor Garlick was easy to win over. All the boys had a thing for her at one point—she was younger than most of the other professors, and not bad on the eyes, either. She definitely had her favourites. Lucky for me, I was one of them.

"Good morning, Professor. Apologies, I'm late."

"Ahhh, Sebastian! Good morning, my little flower. Not to worry, as long as you're here! There's a pot free for you at the end."

I made my way over, but the moment I did, I was met with the most grating sound known to mankind—Hector Fawley's voice.

Merlin, how did anyone tolerate listening to him? That pompous, smug tone made my skin crawl. And, of course, his little minion Ciaran O'Reilly was right there with him. Just my luck—I had the pleasure of being stuck opposite the two of them.

"Sallow! What time do you call this? Nice of you to join us, mate!" Hector mocked, grinning like the arrogant prick he was.

"Wish I could say the same, 'mate.'"

Hector's smirk dropped. I could already tell I'd gotten under his skin. Too easy.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you hard of hearing? Would you like me to repeat it?"

"Fuck off, Sallow."

"Touched a nerve, have I?"

Hector shot me a glare from across the table.

Thought so. That should shut him up for a while.

We'd hated each other since first year. He was a pretentious little shit who acted like the sun shone out of his arse just because his family had money and influence. Worse, people actually liked him. Girls fawned over him, too, which was beyond me. Probably had something to do with his last name.

"Alright, class," Professor Garlick called, clapping her hands. "Today we're re-potting Mandrakes!"

A collective groan filled the greenhouse.

Fantastic.

If there was one thing worse than listening to Hector's voice, it was those bloody plants. Their screams were downright unholy.

"Oh, come now, it's not that bad!" Professor Garlick beamed. "Get your protective gear on, and we'll be done in no time!"

We reluctantly pulled on our gloves and earmuffs, eyeing the Mandrakes like they were cursed objects waiting to attack.

"Alright—three, two, one... repot!"

In unison, we yanked the little bastards from their dirt-filled homes. Their shrieks ripped through the air, an ear-splitting wail that made my already-pounding headache ten times worse. My skull felt like it was going to split open. I moved fast, shoving the hideous thing into its new pot and throwing dirt over it as if my life depended on it.

Just as I finished, something caught my eye.

The boy next to me had completely collapsed.

"Err... Professor Garlick?" I called, barely suppressing my laughter. "Lawrence is on the floor."

"How many times do I have to tell you all—always wear your earmuffs!" she chided.

"Professor... he's wearing them."

Professor Garlick's expression shifted to concern. I glanced down at the poor sod sprawled across the ground, fighting back a snicker. The rest of the greenhouse wasn't as composed—laughter erupted all around us.

"Should we just leave him there?" I teased.

"Sebastian, really!" she huffed. "He needs to go to the hospital wing immediately. Hector, Ciaran, take him to Miss Blainey, please."

Oh, thank God.

The two of them hoisted Lawrence up and hauled him out. Finally—peace and quiet.

Now this class was starting to look up.

——————————

The rest of the day, thankfully, wasn't nearly as dramatic as the morning. Imelda, however, made sure Quidditch practice dragged on far longer than necessary. She was hell-bent on making sure we were ready for the first match of the season on Friday. I had no idea why she was so worked up about it—we were only playing Hufflepuff. And let's be honest, they were shit.

By the time she finally let us go, it was nearing 8 PM, and I was starving. Dragging myself back to the castle, all I could think about was food.

Of course, thanks to Imelda's ridiculous training session, I'd missed dinner in the Great Hall. That meant my only option was a trip to the kitchens—not that I minded. I liked seeing the elves.

I reached the familiar painting, tickled the pear, and stepped inside. The moment I did, I was met with the usual whirlwind of house-elves darting around in every direction, cleaning up after the chaos of dinner. Hopefully, they'd be able to fix me a plate of something before I collapsed from hunger.

Before I could even take another step, I heard the rapid pitter-patter of tiny feet rushing toward me.

"Mr Sallow! Do you want food? Tiddle can bring you some!"

I glanced down and immediately recognized the familiar little elf.

"Hello, Tiddle! Yes, please—I'd love something to eat."

"Tiddle will bring it right away for you, sir!"

I had a soft spot for that elf—always had. She'd been feeding me since my first year, like some sixth sense told her exactly when I'd be sneaking into the kitchens for a late-night meal. And, without fail, she was always right there waiting, as if she knew I'd be coming.

With a snap of her fingers, a plate piled high with roast beef, mashed potatoes, and vegetables—all smothered in rich gravy—appeared in her hands.

"Here you are, Mr Sallow! Tiddle hopes you enjoy!"

"Thank you, Tiddle—it looks perfect."

I took the plate and sat down at one of the long wooden tables, immediately tucking into the hot meal. As always, they got it exactly right. I never had to ask, never had to specify. They just knew.

Bloody incredible.

——————————

After finishing my meal in the kitchens, I was completely stuffed and more than ready for bed. I thanked Tiddle and the other elves on my way out, then made my way toward the grand staircase to head back to the Slytherin common room.

The castle was eerily silent—most students had already retreated to their dorms for the night. As I reached the top of the Hufflepuff staircase and turned toward the grand staircase, I suddenly felt a sharp tug on my wrist. Before I could react, I was being pulled into a secluded corner of the corridor.

"What the fuck—get off me!"

"Sebastian! I haven't seen you all day!"

Disoriented, I blinked at the figure in front of me. It took a moment for my brain to catch up, but then I recognised her—Samantha Dale.

"Oh. Samantha. Sorry—I didn't realise it was you."

"That's okay," she said with a giggle. "I missed you."

She wrapped her arms around my neck, tilting her head as she gazed up at me. I was exhausted after today, and no one was around to see, so I slid my hands to her waist and played along.

"You did, did you?" I smirked.

She bit her lip, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"You know I did. Where are you going now? Do you need me to help you...relax?"

Samantha was one of the few girls who understood the arrangement—no strings, no expectations, just fun. It made things easy between us. If I had to choose between her and Adelaide, I probably preferred Samantha. She knew the score and didn't try to make it something more. The added bonus? She used to be Hector Fawley's girlfriend, and she'd admitted, more than once, that she preferred me over him. That alone made it all the more satisfying.

"Tempting," I admitted, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "But I'm knackered. Another time?"

Her lips pursed slightly, disappointment flashing in her eyes as she glanced away.

"Oh... okay."

I sighed, slipping a finger under her chin to tilt her face back up toward mine. Her dark chocolate eyes stared into mine—rich, warm, and dangerous. If I wasn't careful, I could get lost in them.

"Hey," I murmured, my voice softer now. "Another time, yeah?"

A small smile returned to her lips. "Okay. Another time, then."

"Good girl. Come here."

Cupping her face, I pressed my lips to hers, slow at first before deepening the kiss. Her lips were impossibly soft—like butter melting under heat—and she tasted sweet. In that brief moment, everything else faded. No stress, no worries, just warmth and sensation.

When we finally pulled away, our eyes met again.

"Come on," I said, slipping an arm around her shoulder. "I'll walk you to your common room."

I wouldn't normally do this sort of thing, but no one was around, so what harm was there?

But then, as we approached the one-eyed witch passage, we both froze.

Standing right before us, arm in arm, were Alora and Hector.

The sight of them together hit me like a gut punch. What the fuck? Why were they together? Where had they been? Samantha stiffened beside me, her fingers tightening slightly around my arm. But my eyes were locked on them—or more specifically, her arm wrapped around his. My stomach twisted, irritation flaring out of nowhere.

Before I could process the emotion properly, Hector's smug voice broke the silence.

"Sallow, Samantha—another good night, I see?"

My blood boiled instantly. Who the fuck does he think he is? My jaw clenched as I forced a cold, measured response.

"You could say that, Fawley."

And then he did it. He placed his hand over hers.

A sharp pang shot through me—why was she letting him touch her?

"Come on, Alora," Hector said smoothly. "You don't want to be late."

Alora glanced down at his hand as if surprised by the gesture. Then, as she looked up, her gaze met mine. I held it, careful to keep my expression unreadable. If she could see how much this was pissing me off, she'd think I was a complete lunatic. I didn't even know her.

And yet...

"Well, we best be off," Hector continued, flashing a grin that made me want to knock his teeth out. "Have a great evening, both of you."

That sarcastic little cunt.

I watched as they turned away, descending the steps toward the Slytherin common room. I should've just let it go. But all I could think about was her—and how I needed to talk to her again.

Before I could linger too long, Samantha tugged on my arm, pulling me toward Ravenclaw Tower. Begrudgingly, I let her.

But my thoughts stayed exactly where they shouldn't.

 

Chapter 6: Let’s meet again for the first time

"Well, here we are."

We finally reached the hidden entrance to the Slytherin common room. What a day. I was exhausted, drained from the weight of everything that had happened, and all I wanted was the comfort of my bed.

"Thank you, I appreciate you walking me back."

Hector stood close, a small smile playing at his lips as he looked down at me.

"My pleasure. You'll think about my proposal, won't you? I meant what I said earlier—I'd love to take you out."

I hesitated for a moment before offering a polite smile. "I will... Good night, Hector."

He reached for my hand, slipping his fingers beneath it with practiced ease. Lifting it to his lips, he placed a lingering kiss on my skin, holding my gaze as he did.

"Good night, Alora."

I didn't move until he was out of sight. Only then did I turn toward the wall, murmuring the password. The serpent slithered aside, unveiling the doorway I had walked through a thousand times before.

The common room was empty, bathed in flickering green light from the enchanted torches. I wasn't ready to go to my dorm just yet, so I sank onto the sofa in front of the fireplace, letting the warmth lull me into a trance. The flames danced hypnotically over the logs, twisting and turning like silk in the wind. So beautiful, yet so deadly.

Lying down, I closed my eyes, letting the silence settle around me.

"Ah! You must be the new fifth year! I'm Sebastian Sallow. Welcome to Slytherin."
"Seems I may have met a kindred spirit!"

My eyes shot open. The memories came like a flood, relentless and suffocating. The undercroft. The look on his face. The pain. I forced myself upright, my chest tightening as I tried to shake it off.

That's when I noticed it.

A green glow, faint but undeniable, seeping through my shirt. My necklace.

I pulled it free, watching in fascination as swirls of silver energy spiraled through the gemstone, faster than before.

Something wasn't right.

A sudden, eerie sensation crept over me—the distinct feeling of being watched. My gaze flickered around the dimly lit room, but nothing seemed out of place. Was I imagining things? Sleep deprivation, maybe?

Then, as suddenly as it had started, the glow faded, and the swirling energy slowed to its usual lazy pace. My fingers tightened around the pendant. I needed to find that book Sebastian discovered all those years ago. Maybe it held the answers I was looking for.

Tucking the necklace back beneath my shirt, I let exhaustion finally take me.

"Alora, what have you done?!"

"Sebastian, you said you wanted me to help her!"

I looked down.

Anne lay at my feet, her body as still as the dead of night. Her pale face was frozen in a final, vacant stare—her lips, once full of life, now a haunting shade of periwinkle.

She was at peace. Finally.

"See? I've taken her pain away!" I turned to Sebastian, my voice edged with something between excitement and desperation.

Blood pooled around her fragile frame, seeping into the cracks of the stone beneath us. My hands tingled with the remnants of ancient magic, a dark mass swirling around my wand.

I had done it.

"Alora... no. No, no, no!"

Sebastian fell to his knees, cradling Anne's head in his trembling hands. Tears spilled freely down his cheeks, landing on her lifeless face as he pressed his forehead against hers, clinging to what little time he had left with her.

Then, a scream tore from his throat. Raw. Devastated.

"YOU KILLED HER!"

I gasped awake, my body drenched in sweat. My heart pounded so violently it felt like it might burst from my chest. My breathing was ragged, uneven.

What the fuck was that?

For a moment, I couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't. My eyes darted around the empty common room, adjusting to the low light. The fire had burned down to embers. A quick glance at the clock. 4:45 AM.

Relief settled over me as reality sank in. It was just a dream.

But then I noticed something strange. A blanket.

I hadn't grabbed one before falling asleep.

Who...?

Brushing the thought aside, I stood up, shaking off the lingering unease. I needed to get to my dorm before anyone noticed I was missing.

It was just a dream.

By the time I woke again, the dorm was still quiet. The other girls were still asleep, their soft breaths filling the space. Carefully, I slipped the necklace from my neck and placed it in my bedside drawer, shutting it quietly.

A voice startled me.

"Hey, where were you last night?"

I turned to see Imelda watching me from her bed, her voice hushed.

"Morning. Oh, I just got back late. Took a walk around the castle, lost track of time."

She frowned. "You could have let me know. I got worried. How did it go with Ominis?"

I glanced at Violet and Priscilla, still sleeping opposite us, before replying.

"I'll tell you later."

Imelda nodded knowingly. "Fine. But you're telling me everything. Are you coming to breakfast?"

My stomach grumbled in response. "Absolutely. I'm starving."

"Good. I'll come with you."

————————————

The Great Hall was bathed in the golden glow of morning light as we strolled inside. Most students were still in bed, making breakfast pleasantly quiet. We took our seats at the Slytherin table. I opted for toast drizzled with honey, while Imelda loaded her plate with a full English.

"So," she started, "tell me what happened last nigh—"

"Good morning, ladies! You both look ravishing today!"

Gareth Weasley plopped himself onto the bench across from us, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Imelda groaned.

I smirked. "Well, if it isn't our favorite Gryffindor. You're up early."

"The early bird catches the worm," he said with a wink at Imelda.

She rolled her eyes, though I caught the ghost of a smirk.

"Hi, Weasley. To what do we owe the pleasure?" she asked, feigning annoyance.

"Can't a man enjoy his breakfast with a beautiful—ah, two beautiful girls?" He corrected himself with a teasing grin.

Imelda and I exchanged a look.

"Smooth, Gareth. Thanks," I said dryly.

Sensing the tension, he quickly changed the subject.

"Anyway, are you both excited for the first match on Friday?"

I blinked. "Who's playing?"

Imelda turned to me in utter disgust. "Are you joking, Lora? It's us against Hufflepuff! We should win easily—they're hardly competition."

"Oh, right. Yeah, I'll be there."
"Same here," Gareth added enthusiastically.

Imelda raised an eyebrow.

"Why? Doesn't Gryffindor usually side with Hufflepuff when they play us?"

Gareth hesitated, looking between us as he scrambled for an answer.

"Well, yeah, but... I just thought I'd support you two for a change."

"Right." I smirked.

Imelda, seemingly uninterested in Gareth's excuse, moved on.

"Will you both be coming to the after-party in our common room when we win?"

Gareth perked up. "Will I even be let in?"

Imelda smirked. "You can be my plus one, Weasley. No one will say no to the winning captain."

My eyebrows shot up. Since when does she invite him to things?

Gareth beamed. "I'll be there!"

As he left the hall, his steps noticeably lighter, I turned to Imelda, a smirk tugging at my lips.

"Growing on you, is he?"

She scoffed. "Piss off, Alora."

——————————————

Wednesday morning's classes passed quickly, but I knew the next one would drag. History of Magic with Professor Binns was notorious for being the most mind-numbing hour of the week. Everyone felt the same—his monotone voice and endless droning made it nearly impossible to stay awake.

I arrived just before the lesson started and took a seat at an empty table near the back, setting my bag beside me. With a sigh, I pulled out some parchment, preparing myself for the slow, painful depletion of my will to live—or, if I could manage, to take some notes.

"In today's lesson, we'll be going over the Goblin Rebellion of 1612... again."

A collective groan rippled through the room. I barely had the energy to pretend I was listening.

"As you're all aware, this took place in the vicinity of Hogsmeade Village, where one of the inns was used as a headquarters for the rebellion."

As I jotted down a few key points, the chair beside me scraped against the floor. A body slumped into it. My breath caught as a familiar scent—cedarwood, books, and apples—filled my nose. My pulse spiked. I knew that scent. But I was too anxious to confirm it. Keeping my head down, I let my eyes drift sideways.

Sebastian.

Of course, he'd snuck in without Binns noticing. But why was he sitting next to me?

As he pulled out his things, my hands went clammy. My grip on my quill faltered, and it slipped from my fingers, landing on the floor with a soft thud. I shut my eyes for a second, exhaling sharply. Not now.

I bent down to retrieve it, but before I could reach it—

"Here, I think you dropped this?"

Sebastian. He had already picked it up, holding it out to me. Our fingertips barely brushed as he passed it over.

"Thank you. Not sure what happened there," I said, forcing a small smile.

"It's fine. I've probably done the same plenty of times in this lesson," he chuckled.

"Do you two have something you'd like to share with the class?"

My stomach dropped. The room had gone silent, all eyes on us. Shit.

Sebastian, unbothered, turned lazily toward Binns.

"She was just explaining that the cause of the rebellion was most likely due to the lack of goblin representation on the Wizengamot, sir."

He said it so smoothly, even I was impressed. Does he actually pay attention?

Binns considered this for a moment before droning

"Hmm. Very well. Please refrain from speaking—we have a lot to cover."

"Of course, sir," Sebastian replied with a grin.

I bit back a smile, lowering my gaze to my parchment. Why did he just do that?

Binns resumed his lecture, draining what little sanity we had left. I focused on scribbling notes, determined to stay awake, when suddenly—a piece of parchment slid across my desk.

I hesitated before opening it.

"Dreadfully boring, isn't he? Sorry about earlier. I'm Sebastian, by the way—Sebastian Sallow. :)"

A sharp pang hit my chest. He really didn't remember me.

I stared at the last line longer than I should have, but I forced myself to play along. I scribbled a response and slid it back.

"Yes, he's positively awful! Thanks for covering for us. Nice to meet you."

Sebastian opened the note, smirked slightly, and quickly scribbled his reply.

"You're welcome! I also wanted to apologise again for Adelaide at The Three Broomsticks. She's not the nicest when she's drunk."

I blinked. Twice? He'd already apologised once—was she really that bad, or did he feel the need to defend her?

I hesitated before writing my next message, then, unable to help myself, I asked the one thing I wanted to know.

"It's okay, really. She's lucky to have a boyfriend who apologises for her!"

I watched his expression shift as he read my words. A frown appeared, his quill hesitating before he replied.

"I'm not her boyfriend. I don't have a girlfriend."

Relief washed over me. So they weren't together?

But then my thoughts flickered to last night—Samantha. Could I ask? Did I want to know?

Screw it.

"Is that the same with Samantha?"

Sebastian opened the note, reading it over before chuckling softly. I know it's none of my business, but I couldn't not ask.

"Yes. I'm not with either of them. And I'd like to keep it that way."

I should've felt better knowing that, but instead, it only confirmed what Ominis had implied. Sebastian was different now. A player.

He had both of them wrapped around his finger, and likely others, too. The rumors were true. The thought stung more than I cared to admit. But I couldn't show that—I had to keep up the act.

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. :)"

I passed the note back, forcing myself to stay indifferent.

Sebastian barely skimmed my response before writing his next message.

"Thank you! Will you be at the party on Friday?"

Of course, Slytherins already assumed we'd win against Hufflepuff in two days. The arrogance was amusing, but I found myself more focused on why he was asking.

Did he care if I was going?

"Yes. I'll make sure not to bump into you and Adelaide there!"

I expected that to be the end of it, so I went back to my notes, forcing myself to refocus. But after a few minutes, another folded slip of parchment slid into view.

"Is Hector your boyfriend?"

I stiffened. Why did he care?

I wrote back quickly.

"No."

I kept my expression neutral as I passed the note, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw his face shift—something subtle, something almost... smug.

Then, within seconds, another note appeared.

"Good."

My breath hitched.

I stared at the word, my mind scrambling to interpret it. What did he mean by that? Why did he care?

I stole a glance at him, but he was already pretending to focus on the lesson, as if he hadn't just sent my heart into a tailspin.

Sebastian Sallow, the new Sebastian Sallow, was going to be a problem.

 

Chapter 7: Web of lies

The lesson had finally come to an end, and somehow, I had managed to stay awake through the entire thing—a true accomplishment in itself. But instead of absorbing anything about the goblin rebellion, my mind was completely occupied with Sebastian. What did he mean by that note? Was I reading too much into it? Surely, he didn't see me that way... right? My head swirled with questions, each one more frustrating than the last.

"I expect fifteen inches on the Goblin Rebellion from all of you by next week. You need to be prepared for your N.E.W.T.s," Professor Binns droned from the front of the classroom.

Fifteen inches?! I nearly fell out of my seat. A chorus of groans erupted around the room as students lamented the hefty assignment. That man was truly awful. Resisting the urge to complain out loud, I began gathering my notes, knowing full well I'd need every bit of them to tackle this essay.

"He just can't help himself, can he?" Sebastian muttered beside me, shaking his head.

"He must really hate us," I joked.

"It's ridiculous, honestly. I didn't even listen to half of what he was saying. I didn't think this subject would even be on our exams!"

I hesitated for a moment, staring down at my bag as I debated something internally. Should I even offer? Was this a bad idea? No—it's just helping a fellow student. That's all. Before I could stop myself, the words were already leaving my mouth.

"If you need the extra help, you can use my notes if you like."

Sebastian's gaze snapped toward me, surprise flickering across his face.

"Really?"

"Yeah, sure. Why not?"

"How about we study in the library instead?" he suggested smoothly.

I blinked. "What?"

"I just learn better in person. You know, face-to-face."

My brain short-circuited for a moment. Was this smart? Was this even a good idea?

"Come on, it won't be that bad. I don't bite," he teased, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

I exhaled, already regretting this. "Fine. Saturday. One o'clock."

"Excellent!" He grinned. "But what if I—?"

"If you're late or hungover, I'm leaving," I warned.

He chuckled. "Shouting orders at me already! Ha! It's a date."

"It's not a date," I snapped.

"Of course not, darling," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. "See you soon."

With that, he stood up, flashing me one last smile before making his way out of the classroom.

Shit. What had I just done?

This was a mistake. A reckless, foolish mistake. I could already feel the regret settling in.

It's just studying.

It's just studying.

So why did it feel like something else entirely?

I left History of Magic with my head full of goblin rebellions—and Sebastian Sallow.

—————————————

In the afternoon, with a free period stretching before me, I decided to head to the library, hoping to find some answers about the necklace.

The moment I stepped inside, I was wrapped in the soft symphony of turning pages, hushed whispers drifting across the room, and the rhythmic shuffle of footsteps echoing through the two-tiered hall. Madam Scribner, ever vigilant, was patrolling the aisles, keeping a watchful eye over her domain. It wasn't too crowded, a relief, as I needed to focus and track down that book.

I made my way to the back of the bottom floor, settling into the quiet left corner. This section had become my sanctuary ever since I dealt with the portrait of Ferdinand Octavius Pratt back in fifth year. No one had ever questioned his disappearance, not even Scribner. After burning his first portrait in the Three Broomsticks, I couldn't leave the one here to linger. He had been a witness to a crime—he had to go. I'm sure I'd done everyone a favor, but that little detail would remain my secret.

I set my things down on the table and made my way over to the neglected section of the library where all the books about gemstones were stored. It wasn't exactly overflowing with options, and I could already tell I had my work cut out for me. I ran my fingers over the dusty spines, pulling a few books off the shelves to inspect the titles.

Earth's Rocks & Minerals—No.

Encyclopaedia of Crystals & Gems—Hm, maybe.

Pebble Spotter's Guide—Definitely not.

Nature's Treasures—Nope.

Crystal Tips & Cures—Nah.

Healing Crystals of the World—No.

Is this it? I thought to myself, flabbergasted. A whole library, and only six books on rocks, gems, and crystals? It was infuriating. I grabbed the Encyclopaedia of Crystals & Gems and headed back to my seat, determined to find something useful.

I flipped through the pages, searching for anything remotely similar to the stone on my necklace. There were a few beautiful green crystals, but nothing that even remotely matched what I had been given. Twenty-five minutes passed before it hit me—this book wasn't going to help me. I needed to think.

Think, Alora, think! I sat back in my chair, replaying the conversation with Sebastian in my mind.

"As you know, I like to read, so I took a trip to the library and found a book on magical gemstones. It seems this one can be enchanted for all kinds of things!"

Suddenly, it clicked. How had I not thought of this sooner? I remembered clearly—I'd never seen a stone like the one on my necklace before. None of these gems had swirls in them. It wasn't just an enchanted gemstone or crystal; the stone was magical. Of course! This book wasn't here—I was looking in the wrong place. Sebastian must have found it in the restricted section. It was Sebastian after all.

I slammed the book shut and replaced it on its dusty shelf. I needed to get into the restricted section, but not now. Not yet. It was too early. I'd have to wait until nightfall.

As I began packing my things, the door to the library creaked open, and an owl swooped in. It flew gracefully around the room before landing on the chair beside me. I froze, glancing around to see if the owl had come for someone else. Could it be for me? The marble-colored owl tilted its head, waiting patiently for me to take the piece of parchment from its claws. When I took a closer look, I realized it was Ominis' owl—Noctua. What did he want?

I took the note and watched as Noctua flew away, her regal presence lingering in the air like her master. The library was silent again, the bird now gone. I unfolded the note with a growing sense of unease.

Alora,
Please meet me in the Undercroft tonight at 7pm.
It's about Sebastian.
Ominis

My stomach dropped. This couldn't be good. Looks like my trip to the restricted section would have to wait—at least for now.

—————————————

I entered the Undercroft precisely at 7pm, finding Ominis already there, waiting for me. He looked... stressed?

"Alora! Thank you for meeting me, and sorry to drag you back here so soon," he said, his voice tight.

"It's fine, don't worry. Is everything alright?" I asked, sensing something was off.

"Erm, not exactly, no," he replied, his tone heavy with concern.

I studied him closely. There was clear worry on his face.

"What's wrong, Ominis?"

"It's Sebastian," he sighed, his words hanging in the air.

"What about him?" I asked, now completely on edge.

"He's..."

"He's what? Spit it out!" I pressed, my frustration growing.

"He's been asking about you."

I froze, struck dumb for a moment. What?

"Excuse me? What do you mean? What did he say?" I stammered, trying to piece it together.

"Well, in a nutshell, he was asking what I know about you. He said he feels like you're familiar to him, but he wasn't sure."

I stood there, speechless. My mind was racing—surely, he couldn't know who I was? He'd been obliviated for Merlin's sake! No one could come back from that, could they? I struggled to find my words.

"Are you still there?" Ominis' voice broke through my thoughts.

"Yes, I'm still here," I answered, anxiety creeping into my tone.

"Well?"

"What did you tell him?" I demanded.

"I told him you joined Hogwarts in fifth year, which you did, and I mentioned we'd had a few conversations, but that's about it."

I was beyond agitated. How could he not have told Sebastian the truth? How could he keep this from him?

"OMINIS!" I snapped.

"What, Alora?"

"So, you didn't tell him anything? You didn't think it was right to mention that you had him obliviated, that he actually does know me, but now he doesn't because of your family?" My voice trembled with anger.

"I didn't know what to say! He was the one who wanted to get rid of his memories! We didn't know you would also get removed in the process!" Ominis defended himself, but the words did little to calm me.

"I don't care!" I shouted. "He deserves to know the truth! Why are you lying to him?"

"It's not that simple! If we tell him we obliviated his memories of his uncle because he killed him, it would open a whole new world of problems. Sure, he'd know he knew you, but he'd also know that he committed murder!"

The room seemed to spin as his words hit me like a punch. He was right. My head felt completely scrambled. What the hell were we supposed to do? I closed my eyes, trying to digest what he'd just said. He needed to know the truth, didn't he? But how do you tell someone something like that? What if it drove him mad again?

"So we can't tell him the whole truth? Is that what you're saying?" I asked quietly, my mind whirling.

"Yeah... no, I don't know!" Ominis muttered, clearly torn. He started pacing, his frustration palpable.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep up this act of not knowing him, Ominis," I said, my voice breaking a little.

"Please, Alora... just don't mention anything to him. Not yet," he pleaded, his voice earnest.

"He literally introduced himself to me just this morning, and I found it difficult," I sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on me.

"Just please, keep it going for now. I'll think of something... I just need time."

I shook my head. "I don't like lying to him, and frankly, this isn't my problem. You did this, so you'd better think of something fast." My tone was firm, sharp.

"Okay, that's fair. Look out for my owl," Ominis said, nodding in agreement.

I was done. I didn't want to be here anymore, listening to him try to fix a mess that had never needed to be made in the first place. I turned to leave the Undercroft, ready to walk away from the situation that had been thrust upon me.

"Alora?" Ominis' voice stopped me just before I reached the door.

I stopped and turned around, feeling a weight settle in my chest.

"Yes?" I sighed, dreading the moment.

"I'm sorry. You don't deserve this," he said, his voice thick with regret.

"Thank you," I replied, the bitterness of the situation still heavy in my heart as I turned and walked out.

Chapter 8: The perfect girl

Notes:

Sebastian’s POV

"Well, that was awkward, wasn't it?" Samantha muttered, clearly annoyed.

"Not really. Hector doesn't scare me." I shrugged, brushing it off.

"Do you think they're together now? I've not seen him arm in arm with a girl since he and I broke up."

"Maybe. Who knows."

I tried to sound indifferent, but Samantha wasn't convinced. She studied me, her brows slightly furrowed, as if trying to pick apart my reaction.

"Does it not bother you?"

"Why would Hector being with her bother me?" I countered, keeping my voice even.

"Well... you two can't stand each other, and she was your—"

The entrance to the Ravenclaw common room suddenly swung open behind her, cutting her off.

"Oh! Samantha! Have you seen Hector?" Andrew Larson called, stepping through the doorway.

Samantha turned, clearly irritated at the interruption.

"Yeah, he went to walk Alora to her common room. He should be back any minute," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"Oh? Okay, thanks... Are you coming in?"

"Yes," she sighed before turning back to me.

"Well, I guess I'll see you at some point tomorrow. Thanks for walking me back. Good night, Sebastian."

"Good night, Samantha," I said with a small smile, watching as she disappeared into her house.

I turned and made my way down the spiral staircase, exhaustion settling into my bones. The castle was eerily quiet now, my footsteps the only sound echoing through the corridors. I half-expected to run into Hector on my way back, but thankfully, I didn't. I wasn't in the mood for another argument—not tonight, anyway.

By the time I reached the Slytherin common room, a strange calmness settled over me. As I stepped through the doorway, the dimly lit space enveloped me like a shadow. It was peaceful—almost unnervingly so. The only light in the room came from the fire crackling in the hearth, casting flickering amber hues across the leather furniture. The warmth gave the space an almost inviting feel, but something felt... off.

Was no one here?

Just as I turned toward the dorms, I heard a noise—soft, almost like a whisper. I stopped, scanning the room.

Nothing.

Shaking off the feeling, I continued forward, but then—another sound.

Instinct kicked in, and I quickly concealed myself in the alcove of the wall, my breath steady, my presence masked. A figure stirred near the fire. Slowly, someone rose from the sofa, their silhouette illuminated by the flames.

Her.

I remained silent, watching as she pulled something from beneath her shirt—a necklace? It glowed faintly in the dim light. What was that?

I should've walked away, should've left before she noticed me. But I didn't. Instead, I lingered, waiting for her to retreat to the girls' dorms.

She never did.

The room fell silent again. A few moments passed. Had she fallen asleep?

Curiosity got the better of me. Carefully, I crept closer to the fireplace, peering over the back of the sofa.

There she was.

Fast asleep.

The firelight danced across her face, painting her in a soft, golden glow. She looked peaceful—beautiful, even. The warmth of the flames seemed to lull her deeper into her dreams.

I should wake her. Tell her to go to bed.

But I couldn't bring myself to do it.

Instead, I grabbed a blanket draped over the arm of a nearby chair and carefully placed it over her, making sure she was warm.

I lingered for a moment longer, then finally stepped away.

Good night, Alora.

——————————————

The morning started off the same as always—I slept in, missed breakfast, and was late to my first class. From there, it was a domino effect. I barely had time to catch my breath before I was running to my next lesson—History of Magic. And, you guessed it, I was late again.

I really needed to work on my punctuality.

At least this time, it was only five minutes.

When I reached the classroom, I noticed Professor Binns had his back turned to the class, droning on in his usual lifeless tone. Perfect. Now's my chance.

I scanned the room, quickly searching for an empty seat. My eyes landed at the back of the class—right next to Alora. Even better.

"As you're all aware," Binns droned on, "this took place in the vicinity of Hogsmeade Village, where one of the inns was used as headquarters for the rebellion—"

Merlin, his voice could put a banshee to sleep.

Moving swiftly, I slipped through the rows of desks, pulled out the chair, and sank into it without a sound. The familiar scent of vanilla and pancakes washed over me as I pulled my things from my bag. I was in heaven.

Just as I was settling in, Alora's quill tumbled off her desk, landing near my foot.

Being the gentleman that I am, I picked it up and held it out to her.

"Here, I think you dropped this."

Her ocean-blue eyes met mine as she took it from my hand, our fingertips barely brushing.

"Thank you, I'm not sure what happened there," she said, offering me a small smile.

"It's fine. I've probably done the same plenty of times in this class," I joked.

"Do you two have something you'd like to share with the rest of the class?"

Just my luck. That old bellend had caught us talking. The entire room turned to stare.

Alora looked caught off guard, so I stepped in.

"She was just explaining to me that the cause of the rebellion was most likely due to the lack of goblin representation on the Wizengamot, sir."

Lucky for me, I'd actually paid attention to this subject back in fifth year. Binns seemed to buy it.

"Hm. Very well. Please refrain from speaking, we have much to cover."

"Of course, sir," I said, flashing him a falsely sweet smile.

Binns droned on, lulling half the class into a coma. Not that I was listening. My attention was fixed on the girl beside me. I wanted to talk to her again.

So, I did the next best thing—I wrote her a note and slid it across the desk.

Dreadfully boring, isn't he? Sorry about earlier. I'm Sebastian, by the way—Sebastian Sallow :)

She paused her note-taking, staring at the folded paper in front of her. A quick glance around the room to make sure the coast was clear, then she opened it. Moments later, she scribbled down a reply and passed it back.

Yes, he's positively awful! Thank you for covering for us. Nice to meet you.

I smirked as I unfolded it. Now, what to say next?

I figured I should apologise—again—for what happened at the Three Broomsticks. So, I wrote down my apology and passed it back.

You're welcome! I wanted to apologise again for Adelaide at the pub. She's not the nicest when she's drunk.

She opened the note, reading it carefully before picking up her quill. A few seconds later, the parchment slid back my way.

It's okay, really. She's lucky she has a boyfriend to apologise for her!

Boyfriend?!

Was she joking?

I was a little irritated at the assumption, so I set the record straight immediately.

I'm not her boyfriend. I don't have a girlfriend.

I sat there, waiting for her response. As if she thought I was a taken man.

Is that the same with Samantha, I take it?

Oh, so she thought she was funny.

I chuckled softly, then quickly scribbled my reply.

Yes. I'm not with either of them. And I'd like to keep it that way.

As soon as I slid the paper back, I regretted my wording. Did that make me sound like a complete arse? I was an arse most of the time, but she didn't need to know that.

When the note returned, I exhaled in relief.

Don't worry, your secret is safe with me :)

I was grateful she wasn't about to go spreading rumors about me and the two girls I'd been seen with. But now that the topic was on the table, I figured I'd take my chance.

Will you be at the house party on Friday?

She took a moment before sending her answer back.

Yes. I'll make sure I don't bump into you and Adelaide in there either!

Yeah, she definitely thought she was funny.

I hoped she'd realize soon enough that I couldn't care less about either of those girls. I had my sights set on her now, and no one—not Adelaide, not Samantha, not even Hector—was going to get in my way.

Speaking of Hector...

I hesitated for only a second before scrawling my next question.

Is Hector your boyfriend?

I watched as she read my note, her expression unreadable. Then, she quickly wrote back.

No.

A slow smirk crept onto my face.

She was single.

For now.

I wrote one word and passed it back.

Good.

——————————————

After our paper conversation ended, I spent the rest of the hour devising a plan—one that would guarantee I saw her again. Alone.

As soon as the lesson ended, it was time to put it into action.

"I want fifteen inches on the Goblin Rebellion from each of you by next week. You need to be prepared for your N.E.W.T.s."

I knew it.

Binns was nothing if not predictable. He always assigned homework. The room groaned in collective misery, but I barely heard it. My attention was on Alora as she packed up her things. I had to move fast.

"He just can't help himself, can he?" I sighed, leaning in slightly.

"He must hate us, that's for sure," she joked.

Perfect. She thought I was actually annoyed. Time to play dumb and let my plan unfold.

"It's ridiculous, honestly. I wasn't even listening to half of what he said. I didn't think this topic would even be on our exams."

I stole a glance at her. I could see it—the moment she started overthinking, considering whether she should help me. Just as I predicted.

"If you need extra help, you can use my notes if you'd like."

Gotcha.

I snapped my gaze toward her, feigning surprise.

"Really?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"

I didn't want her notes. I wanted her.

So, I came up with an even better idea.

"How about we go to the library and study there instead?"

"What?" She looked at me, confused.

Reel her in, Sebastian. Reel her in.

"I just learn better that way—person to person."

She hesitated.

I smirked. "Come on, it won't be that bad. I don't bite."

Alora exhaled, shaking her head. "Fine, Sebastian. I'll go to the library with you."

That's a good girl.

"Excellent! Let's say Saturday? One o'clock?"

"Fine. But if you're late or hungover, I'm leaving."

I grinned. Feisty. I liked it.

"Shouting orders at me already? Ha! It's a date."

"It's not a date," she huffed.

"Of course not, darling." I shot her a wink. "See you soon."

Smirking, I got up and left the room without another word.

Always leave them with a little mystery.

I walked down the corridor, grinning to myself. A study date—no, a library date—with the most beautiful girl I'd ever laid eyes on.

Mission accomplished.

——————————————

Finally—lunch. And Merlin, was I starving.

The Great Hall was packed, students filling every inch of the long tables, their voices blending into a lively hum. As I made my way through the crowd, a group of girls strolled past, throwing flirtatious glances my way. One of them giggled.

"Hey, Sebastian," she cooed.

I flashed a quick smile and nodded, but that was all they were getting. Normally, I'd indulge them—flash a smirk, toss a flirt right back—but today? I couldn't be bothered.

There was only one girl on my mind.

Spotting Ominis sitting alone at the Slytherin table, I slid into the seat next to him.

"Hello, mate!" I greeted cheerfully.

Ominis turned his head toward me, suspicious. "Sebastian? What's got you in such a good mood?"

"What do you mean? I'm always like this."

"Don't make me laugh," he scoffed. "What have you done?"

I smirked. "Nothing! Well—aside from speaking to someone."

"You speak to everyone," he deadpanned. "That's hardly surprising. Who was it this time?"

"Alora Winters."

His reaction was immediate. His shoulders tensed, his expression shifting as if I'd just dropped a cursed object in his lap.

Was he...flustered?

I frowned. "Everything alright, Ominis?"

"What? Yes—of course! Why wouldn't it be?"

Weird.

"You know her, don't you?" I pressed.

"Well... no," he replied, a little too quickly.

I narrowed my eyes. "But you know something about her."

Ominis hesitated. "I know she transferred in during our fifth year. We've spoken a few times, but I wouldn't say I know her."

A brush-off if I'd ever heard one.

"Right. Well, I've got a date with her on Saturday."

Ominis practically choked. "A date?"

"Not a real date," I corrected with a grin. "She's helping me study for History of Magic."

Ominis frowned. "But... you're top of the class in that subject."

I chuckled. "I know! I only said I needed help so I could talk to her. She's unbelievable, Ominis. I wish you could see her."

"Oh," he said, his tone unreadable. "She did seem nice when I spoke to her."

I ran a hand through my hair, thinking back to our conversation. "I just don't know what it is. She seems familiar, you know? But I've only just met her. Is that weird?"

Before Ominis could answer, he suddenly shoved his plate forward and stood up abruptly.

"Where are you going?" I asked, startled.

"I have something I need to do," he muttered. "I'll see you later."

And just like that, he rushed out of the Great Hall, leaving me sitting there, completely baffled.

What the hell had gotten into him?

Shaking my head, I turned back to my lunch, my mind already working on my next move.

Getting Alora wasn't just a goal anymore—it was a plan.

Chapter 9: Game, set, match

Finally. Friday.

I couldn't be happier to see the end of this week from hell. Tonight, I was actually looking forward to letting my hair down for once.

The morning was gorgeous. Sunlight streamed through the Black Lake, casting a shimmering blue glow across the common room. It brought the space to life, the usual dimness replaced by something almost ethereal. Beautiful.

The entire Slytherin house was buzzing with excitement—it was the first Quidditch match of the season, and the energy in the air was electric. Laughter, chatter, and the occasional boastful prediction about today's game filled the room. I'd never seen so many people in such a good mood.

"I honestly cannot wait for the party tonight, girls!" Violet gushed, practically bouncing with excitement.

"I think people are more excited for the match, Vi, but whatever floats your boat," Imelda teased, rolling her eyes.

"Do you all know what you're wearing later?" Priscilla chimed in.

"For the match or the party?" I asked.

"For the party, silly! We'll all be wrapped up for the match—it may be sunny, but it's freezing out there!"

"Oh... well, I don't really have any 'party' clothes," I admitted.

Priscilla's eyes lit up. Oh no.

"Don't you worry about that, girl—I have just the dress for you! We're about the same size, so it should fit perfectly!"

"Do you have shoes?" Violet asked, already plotting.

"A few flats, some boots maybe? And wedges, but that's about it."

"Well then, we're going shopping! You need heels, because we're dressing up tonight! We have to make an entrance!" Violet squealed.

Oh, fuck. Was I ready for this? I loved them, truly, but I wasn't sure I was prepared for them to take me shopping.

"Are you sure heels aren't a bit... much?"

"Nonsense!" Priscilla scoffed. "We don't dress up to blend in, darling—we dress up to stand out."

I glanced between them, their sheer enthusiasm almost infectious. A smirk tugged at my lips. Maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing to actually have fun with my looks for once?

"Fine, fine—we'll go shopping this afternoon."

A squeal of excitement erupted from the both of them. Well, no turning back now. At least I'd get to see Augustus Hill at Gladrags—it had been a while.

"Just make sure you're not late to the match, ladies!" Imelda called over her shoulder. "It starts at four, and I want my cheerleaders there to see us win!"

"Wouldn't miss it," I grinned.

"Good!"

Glancing at the time, I sighed. "Right, I need to get going—Charms with Ronen. I'd rather not start my Friday by getting scolded. I'll see you all later!"

With that, I said my goodbyes and made my way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower.

Today was going to be a good day.

——————————————

As I reached the statue outside the Charms classroom, I was met with a familiar face I hadn't seen in days.

"Alora! I feel like it's been ages! How have you been, my friend?"

"Hello, Natty. I'm very good, thank you. How are you?"

Over the past few years, Natty and I had been like passing ships. We were still friends, still cared for each other, but her mother had a firm grip on her studies. If she wasn't in class, her head was buried in a book. Despite that, I'd always have a soft spot for her. It wasn't every day you could say one of your friends took the Cruciatus Curse for you, was it?

"I'm well, thank you. I had a lot of fun at the Three Broomsticks on Monday, but my mother wasn't too pleased about me going out."

"Oh no, was she upset?"

"I suppose she's just worried I'm not taking my N.E.W.T.s seriously, which is ridiculous. I'm eighteen now. She can't control me forever." Natty rolled her eyes.

"Exactly! It's probably just a mother thing. But honestly, she has nothing to worry about with you—you'll pass with flying colors, I'm sure." I gave her a warm smile.

"That's very kind of you, Alora. Come on, let's get inside before Professor Ronen decides to tell my mother and—"

"Alora!"

Natty and I both turned as Hector barreled into the conversation.

"Hey, sorry, Natty—can I borrow your friend for a moment?"

I sighed. What now? Natty shot him a glare for the interruption.

"You go on, I won't be long," I reassured her.

With one last wary look at Hector, she gave me a small nod before slipping into the classroom.

I leaned back against the stone wall, just left of the doorway, watching as Hector took a step closer—too close. He lifted his arm, resting his forearm against the wall above my head, pinning me in. His dark eyes bore into mine, voice dropping into something low and smooth.

"Sorry to interrupt. How have you been?"

"I'm fine, Hector. What is it?"

"Just wondering if you've given any thought to our date?" His tone was playful, but there was an edge to it.

"I've been busy," I said flatly.

"Well, no time like the present. How about tomorrow afternoon? We could grab a Butterbeer in Hogsmeade?" He leaned in slightly, his smirk deepening.

Shit. There was no easy way out of this. My mind scrambled for an excuse, but the pressure was building—heat creeping up my neck.

"Sorry, Fawley," a voice cut in. "She's busy tomorrow."

I turned sharply. Sebastian. He stood at the top of the staircase, arms crossed, expression cold as he stared Hector down.

Hector's smirk widened as he flicked his gaze toward him.

"Busy with what?" he challenged.

"She's busy. With me." Sebastian's voice was sharp, unwavering.

Hector scoffed. "Fuck off, Sallow. Shouldn't you be chasing after my ex?"

I stood frozen between them, head turning back and forth as their words grew sharper, the tension suffocating.

Sebastian took a slow step forward. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that." His tone was deceptively calm, but something dark lurked beneath it.

Hector raised a brow. "Or what?"

Sebastian's jaw tensed. "Or I swear to Merlin, I'll Crucio you where you stand."

The air shifted. My breath hitched.

Hector hesitated for only a second before laughing, though I noticed the way his shoulders stiffened. "You wouldn't. You don't scare me, Sallow."

Sebastian tilted his head slightly, his voice like a razor's edge. "Try me."

What the fuck was happening? I had been grateful for the escape just moments ago, but now? I wasn't sure whether to be aroused or worried.

Hector's gaze flickered to me. I kept my eyes forward, refusing to meet his. Finally, with an exaggerated sigh, he stepped back.

"Fine. Another time then, Alora?"

"Um... yeah, maybe," I muttered.

"Good." His smirk returned. "See you later, sweetheart."

And with that, he walked past Sebastian, making his way down the stairs.

I let out a long breath, tension melting from my shoulders. Thank God.

"Thank you, Sebastian," I said softly, looking up at him.

He didn't respond. Just stood there, staring down at me with an expression so unreadable, so cold, it sent a shiver down my spine.

Then, without a word, he turned and walked away—leaving me standing alone outside the Charms classroom.

——————————————

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. I endured my classes without any more awkward interactions, which, after this morning's incident, was a relief. For once, I was looking forward to something less stressful.

By the time classes ended, I met Violet and Priscilla at the castle gates, ready for our shopping trip to Hogsmeade.

"Finally! What took you so long?" Priscilla huffed, arms crossed.

"Sorry, I had so much to do before meeting you both," I said apologetically.

"Well, come on then! We don't have long before the match starts," she urged.

"Can we take the Floo? I don't fancy walking in this cold—we'll get there faster too," Violet suggested, rubbing her arms for warmth.

"Good idea. Let's go," Priscilla agreed.

With that, we stepped into the Floo network and arrived in the heart of Hogsmeade Square within seconds.

The village was alive. Witches and wizards moved like an enchanted current, weaving through the cobbled streets. Children darted past, giggling as they mimicked Quidditch players on imaginary brooms. Merchants called out to buyers, voices overlapping in a symphony of haggling and friendly chatter. Old friends reunited, new friendships sparked—it was a place that breathed with magic.

Sebastian had been right. There was something about this place. No matter how many times I visited, I loved it just the same.

Gladrags Wizardwear was only a few steps from the Floo station, and as we stepped inside, the boutique was already bustling with Friday afternoon shoppers. Near the clothing racks, the owner, Mr. Hill, was finishing a conversation with a customer when he caught sight of us. His eyes widened before a beaming smile stretched across his face.

"Alora! Darling! I was wondering when I'd see you again. Do you ladies need my help today?"

"Hello, Mr. Hill," I greeted. "Yes, actually—we're looking for a few things for a party tonight."

"Ah! I see! And what is it you're after, my dear?"

"She needs heels!" Priscilla blurted before I could respond.

"Well, lucky for you, I received a fresh shipment this morning!"

"Excellent!" Priscilla and Violet chimed in unison.

"Wait here, I'll fetch them for you," Mr. Hill said, his smile never faltering as he disappeared into the back of the shop.

As we waited, the two girls beside me practically buzzed with excitement. They loved shopping, and judging by the number of boxes Mr. Hill was now levitating toward us, this was going to take a while.

With a flick of his wand, a plush seating bench appeared, and the stack of boxes arranged themselves neatly before us.

"Please, take a seat and see which ones catch your fancy," he said with a flourish.

In an instant, Priscilla and Violet dove into the boxes, tossing lids aside as they sifted through the collection. I picked up the first box in front of me, opening it to reveal a pair of royal blue platform heels with delicate ankle straps. They were lovely, actually.

Violet glanced over and immediately shook her head. "Blue? No, no, no—you can't wear blue. And that heel is way too chunky."

"But they look comfortable," I protested.

"Trust me, Lora. Those aren't the ones."

With a sigh, I set the box aside and continued searching. One by one, we went through the shoes, but nothing stood out—not to me, not to my friends.

"Mr. Hill, have you got anything else?" Priscilla asked, frowning at the unimpressive selection.

The shopkeeper stroked his chin in thought. "Hmm... I might have one last pair. Bit of a wild card, though."

"Let's see them!" Violet encouraged.

With a knowing smile, Mr. Hill disappeared into the back again. When he returned five minutes later, he wasn't levitating the box this time—he carried it, proudly, placing it directly into my hands.

"What about these?" he said, eyes twinkling.

Curious, I carefully lifted the lid, peeling back the tissue paper inside.

My breath hitched.

A pair of six-inch, jet-black stilettos lay before me, crafted from the softest satin I'd ever seen. The straps, encrusted with tiny shimmering diamonds, sparkled like constellations in the dim light. They were elegant. Daring. Absolutely stunning.

Priscilla and Violet fell into stunned silence, the only sound the faint rustling of tissue paper as I lifted one of the heels from the box.

"Well?" Mr. Hill prompted.

I looked at my friends, wordlessly asking for confirmation. They both beamed at me, eyes gleaming with excitement.

I turned back to the shopkeeper. "I'll take them."

"Excellent! I'll get them wrapped up for you now."

"How much are they?" I asked, reaching for my purse.

Mr. Hill waved a dismissive hand. "For you, dear? A gift!"

I blinked. "Mr. Hill, surely not—I couldn't."

"Don't be silly. After everything you've done for us all, after everything you've been through—it's the least I can do." His voice was warm, sincere.

I swallowed, touched by his kindness. "Wow... thank you. I really appreciate it."

With the heels secured, we took the Floo back to the castle, ready to get dressed for the first Quidditch match of the season.

——————————————

The Quidditch arena was packed to the brim, every house's stand bursting with energy. It was a spectacular turnout. The crowd moved like a great tide, a sea of students and professors all funneling toward their seats. Excited chatter and laughter echoed all around as my friends and I joined the Slytherin side. The atmosphere was electric—cheering students, house banners waving in the crisp air, and the rhythmic beat of the brass band playing from the lower stands.

Lucan Brattleby and his friends weaved through the audience, discreetly collecting bets for the match. The thrill of competition was infectious, sending a rush of adrenaline through me before the game had even begun.

Then, as if from nowhere, Professor Black's voice boomed through the arena.

"Ahem! Settle down, students! I want this over as soon as possible," he drawled, clearly unimpressed by the excitement around him. "Welcome to the first Quidditch match of the winter season: Hufflepuff versus Slytherin."

A deafening roar erupted from the stands.

"Yes, yes, very exciting," he muttered dryly. "Now, I expect a good, fair game today. If I witness any foul play, don't think I won't cancel Quidditch for the remainder of the season faster than you can say 'Billywig stings!'"

The crowd groaned and booed in protest.

"Right. Well, without further ado, I'll leave you in the hands of today's commentator... uh—" Black turned to Professor Weasley, whispering, "What's his name again?"

She sighed.

"Ah! Yes. Please welcome your commentator, Mr. Benny Stokes!"

Another wave of cheers erupted as a grinning Hufflepuff took over.

"Welcome, everyone, to the thrilling showdown between Hufflepuff and Slytherin! The weather's on our side today—clear skies, a light breeze from the west, perfect flying conditions! If you haven't placed your bets yet, find Lucan and his boys now—"

Professor Weasley snatched the wand from Benny's hand, placing it against her own throat.

"Lucan Brattleby, if I catch you or your friends engaging in illegal betting, you'll all be in detention with me for a month," she warned.

Laughter rippled through the audience as she handed the wand back.

"As I was saying," Benny continued, unfazed, "please welcome the one and only Hufflepuff team!"

A mix of cheers and boos filled the air as the Hufflepuff players soared onto the pitch.

"And now, put your hands together for Slytherin!"

The response was overwhelming—more cheers than boos—as the Slytherin team flew in with commanding presence. They looked formidable, their movements sharp and disciplined. Whatever brutal training regime Imelda Reyes had put them through was clearly paying off.

Priscilla, Violet, and I waved frantically as Imelda spotted us from above.

"Go on, girl! You've got this!" Priscilla shouted.

"Woo! Come on, Imelda!" Violet screamed.

I opened my mouth to join in—but my breath caught. From the corner of my eye, I noticed him.

Sebastian.

He was staring directly at me, a slow smirk tugging at his lips as our eyes locked.

Heat crept up my face as I took him in—his dark curls tousled by the wind, the sharp cut of his Quidditch uniform fitting him far too well, the effortless way he sat on his broom, completely in control. He looked—Merlin help me—really, really good.

What was happening to me?

I tore my gaze away, forcing myself to focus.

"Woohoo! Go Imelda!" I shouted, though my voice came out slightly strained.

Down on the pitch, Professor Kogawa stepped forward, addressing both teams before blowing her whistle.

"The Bludgers are up, followed by the Golden Snitch! Remember, the Snitch is worth 150 points—the Seeker who catches it ends the game!"

The tiny golden ball flitted around like a mischievous sprite before vanishing into the open sky.

"The Quaffle is released, and the game begins!"

The stadium erupted in cheers as the players took off, the match unfolding in a blur of movement. It only took five minutes before Slytherin landed the first goal.

"Lucy Harris scores! Ten points to Slytherin!" Benny announced.

Hufflepuff scrambled to recover.

"Plummly takes possession, passes to Captain Elijah Thomas—he's flying fast, weaving through the Slytherin defense—he's going for the goal!"

The Slytherin stand held its breath as Elijah hurled the Quaffle toward the hoop.

At the last second, the Slytherin Keeper intercepted it, knocking it away with a swift, calculated strike.

The crowd erupted again as both teams collided midair, battling for possession. Then—

"Looks like Sallow has his eyes on the Snitch!"

A fresh roar surged from the Slytherin side. My breath hitched as I followed Benny's gaze—Sebastian was already in pursuit, cutting through the chaos like a predator. His movements were seamless, his focus razor-sharp. The Snitch flitted ahead, teasing him, but he was gaining.

"Another ten points to Slytherin!" Benny added, barely pausing before returning to the action.

Sebastian dodged and weaved through the air, his body low on the broomstick as he chased the Snitch with unwavering precision. It was right there, just inches from his outstretched fingers—

"Sallow's got the win at his fingertips!"

The tension in the arena was suffocating.

A final lunge—

"And Sallow catches the Snitch! Slytherin wins!"

The stadium erupted. The Slytherin stands exploded with cheers, the house banners rippling in triumph.

"We did it!" Priscilla screamed.

"Tonight's going to be even better!" Violet grinned.

I laughed, breathless, swept up in the celebration. We'd won. Of course we had.

And tonight? Tonight was going to be one to remember

 

Chapter 10: Kiss and Tell

The moment the match ended, the Slytherin stands erupted as students stormed the pitch, surrounding the team in a frenzy of cheers and celebration. The energy was electric, the air buzzing with triumph. Laughter, chanting, and the rhythmic stomping of feet turned the field into a full-blown party.

In the middle of it all, Milov—the team's Beater—swept Imelda off the ground with ease, hoisting her onto his shoulders as if she weighed nothing. I felt my face warm at the sight. He made it look effortless. I wouldn't mind someone picking me up like that...

"Here's to the best captain everrr!" he bellowed, grinning ear to ear.

"Milo! Put me down! For Merlin's sake!" Imelda shouted, though she was laughing too.

But Milov wasn't having it. He ignored her protests and bounced around the pitch, parading her like a prized trophy.

I was in hysterics, barely able to breathe from laughing so hard.

"Alright, alright—put her down already! We need to get ready!" Priscilla called over the noise.

"Oh—right! Sorry, ladies." Milov shot us a sheepish grin before finally setting Imelda back on the grass.

"Thanks, Milo. That was a hell of a game," Imelda admitted, shaking her head with a smirk. "But I think we really owe this win to Sallow."

"Where is he, anyway?" Milov asked, glancing around.

That's when the search for Sebastian began. Students were calling his name, scanning the field, but he was nowhere to be seen.

I turned, surveying the area myself, but he was gone. My gaze drifted toward the changing rooms—and that's when I spotted him. Of course.

There he was, slipping off into a secluded area with Samantha.

My stomach twisted, irritation sparking in my chest. Figures. I wouldn't lie—it bothered me. More than it should. But I wasn't about to let it ruin my night.

I straightened up, pushing the thought aside.

"Come on, girls. Let's go get ready for tonight," I said, forcing a smirk.

With that, the four of us linked arms and headed back to the common room. Tonight was going to be ours.

———————————————

Our dorm was absolute chaos as we all scrambled to get ready for the night ahead. Clothes, shoes, makeup, and accessories were everywhere—draped over beds, scattered across the floor, tossed onto chairs. It was a big night, and we were determined to look our absolute best.

I went for a soft brown smokey eye, a subtle wing, and fluffy lashes to make my eyes pop. A little lip liner and a swipe of nude gloss pulled the look together. My hair was curled and styled into a half-up, half-down ponytail, sitting neatly at the back of my head. Simple, yet polished. I slipped a delicate tennis bracelet onto my wrist and fastened a pair of cubic zirconia studs— a gift from my parents. As I glanced at my reflection, I actually felt... pretty.

Now all I needed was the dress.

I perched on my bed, watching as Priscilla rummaged through her wardrobe like a woman on a mission.

"It's in here somewhere!" she shouted, tossing garments aside.

"Honestly, it's fine if you can't find it. I have a skirt and top I could wear—"

"NO!" she cut me off, whirling around dramatically. "You're wearing a dress tonight. You wear skirts every bloody day for school. You need to look different!"

I clamped my mouth shut and let her do her thing. A few moments later, she let out a triumphant aha!and turned to face me, holding up the dress.

My eyes widened.

It was stunning.

An all-black, strapless mini dress. The bandeau-style fabric hugged the bodice, while large satin ruffles cascaded across the chest and over the shoulders, adding an elegant flair.

"Wow, Cilla... Are you sure I can wear this?"

"Of course! Try it on!"

I carefully stepped into the dress, pulling it up my body and adjusting the ruffles over my shoulders. It fit like a glove—snug but comfortable, sculpting my figure in a way that made me pause.

"Jesus, Lora!" Priscilla gasped, eyes flicking up and down my frame. "Where did that arse come from? And those tits?"

I let out an awkward laugh. "Um... I honestly have no idea."

"You look unreal!" she beamed.

Hearing the commotion, Violet and Imelda abandoned their own primping to get a look.

"Wow, Alora, you look beautiful!" Violet gushed. "You should dress up more often!"

"You weren't joking about that bum, were you, Cilla?" Imelda added with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes, laughing. "Okay, yes, I have boobs and a bum now. Can we move on please?"

"Put the shoes on!" Violet said eagerly.

I slid my feet into my brand-new heels, fastening the diamanté straps around my ankles. Looking at myself in the mirror, I actually felt incredible.

"The boys are going to be drooling over you tonight," Priscilla teased.

I smiled at her. "Thanks, Cilla. I really appreciate it."

For a fleeting moment, I considered pulling out the necklace sitting in my drawer. But with the oversized ruffles, it wouldn't be visible anyway. I decided against it.

With the other girls now fully dressed, we eagerly made our way to the common room.

———————————

As we reached the top of the staircase, we were greeted by chaos.

The Slytherin common room was packed—students crammed into every corner, the air thick with excitement. The thump of bass-heavy music shook the walls, casting an almost hypnotic rhythm over the space. It was dimly lit, but colored lights flashed through the room, giving it the feel of a propernightclub. Slytherin banners draped loosely from the chandeliers, a bold display of house pride. And right in the center of it all, a massive disco ball floated midair, scattering glimmering reflections across the room.

We'd really outdone ourselves this time.

Near the windows overlooking the Black Lake, a drinks table was set up, overflowing with mead, butterbeer, firewhiskey, and an assortment of questionable concoctions—no doubt courtesy of Gareth. As we descended the steps, an unmistakable scent hit me.

Devil's Snare.

I wasn't surprised. Trust it to be the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins lighting up. Looking around, students were either drinking or getting high—or, in some cases, both. The place was wild.

Not that I minded. I wasn't against smoking. I'd just... never done it before.

I hadn't done a lot of things, really.

"Come on, girls! I think our lot are over by the fireplace!" Imelda called.

"I'm going to grab a drink first—I won't be long!" I replied.

"Okay, but hurry up!"

I weaved through the crowd, making my way toward the drinks table. Even as I moved, I still couldn't believe how many people were packed into this room.

When I reached the table, Gareth was behind it, pouring drinks like a bartender.

"Are you moonlighting as a barman now?" I teased.

He looked up and did a double take. "Alora! Wow. Look at you!"

I smirked. "Thanks, Gareth. You got anything good for me?"

"Oh, I definitely do." His grin turned mischievous. "Try my party cocktail. It's got a little sprinkle of Midnight Draught—gives you an extra buzz."

I raised a brow. "Midnight Draught? Won't that just make me tired?"

"No, no—it makes your head a little dizzy, but the good kind."

I eyed him skeptically. Was this a terrible idea? Probably. But everyone else seemed to be enjoying it, so... fuck it.

"Fine," I said, holding out my hand. "I'll take one."

"Of course, m'lady."

He gave me an exaggerated bow before handing over the goblet. Idiot.

"Thanks. You coming over? Everyone's by the fireplace."

"I'll be there soon—just finishing up here. Try the drink!"

I brought the goblet to my nose and took a cautious sniff. Surprisingly, it smelled fruity—notes of pineapple and mango filling my senses. I took a hesitant sip.

It was actually... good. Sweet and tropical—right up until the aftertaste hit. The mix of alcohol and Midnight Draught left a sharp, lingering burn on my tongue.

"Well?" Gareth asked expectantly.

I swallowed. "It's actually... nice. For once."

"Give it a few minutes—you'll feel it," he winked.

I rolled my eyes and turned to make my way back to the fireplace.

Or at least, I tried to.

Just as I stepped forward, I was nudged—hard—causing me to stumble in my heels.

I spun around, already irritated, and came face to face with none other than Adelaide.

"Oh, sorry, Alora..." she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. A group of girls behind her giggled.

Oh, you've got to be kidding me.

I plastered on a sarcastic smile. "It's okay, Adelaide. You're such a cunt, aren't you?"

The laughter behind her stopped.

Her eyes darkened. "The fuck did you just say?"

"I said you're such a klutz, aren't you?" I replied smoothly, my smile never faltering.

She glowered at me, but I wasn't in the mood for games tonight.

I took one last sip of my drink before flashing another sweet smile.

"Well, I must be off. See you soon, ladies!"

With a dramatic spin on my toes, I made sure my hair flicked right in her direction before sauntering off toward the fireplace.

———————————————

I finally made my way to the main seating area where my friends were gathered. Violet and Priscilla sat with Noah and Ellis, while Poppy was locked in a game of wizard's chess with Ominis. Were they getting closer? I arched a brow, noting how she leaned in just a little too close, her fingers lightly brushing his as she moved a piece. On the sofa, Milo and Imelda lounged, leaving one empty space beside them—probably best saved for Gareth.

And then there was Sebastian.

He sat in the armchair nearby, legs spread comfortably as he absentmindedly ran a hand over his jawline, manscaping while sipping firewhiskey. Unlike the others, who were fully engaged in conversation and laughter, he seemed detached—his expression unreadable, his presence both there and not.

"Oh, here she is!" Violet beamed as I approached.

"Wit woo, look at you!" Milo teased with a smirk.

"Doesn't she look gorgeous?" Priscilla added, nudging my arm.

I laughed softly, warmth creeping up my cheeks as their compliments sank in. I wasn't oblivious to the way some of the boys looked at me tonight—maybe Priscilla had been right about them after all.

"Hey, guys! Sorry I took so long—I had a bit of a run-in at the drinks table."

"Ooh, what happened?" Imelda asked, intrigued.

I waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, nothing worth mentioning. She's not important."

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Sebastian's head tilt slightly at my words. His attention had been elsewhere until then. That piqued your interest, didn't it, Sallow?

Choosing to ignore him, I perched myself on the armrest of the sofa, slowly sipping my drink as I let the conversations flow around me. The effects of Gareth's concoction were kicking in—I felt looser, more confident. My head swam just enough to feel light, but not out of control. It was... nice.

"Who's up for a game of Never Have I Ever?"

Gareth's voice rang out as he strolled over, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

"Yeah, go on then!" Ellis was quick to agree.

"Ooh, I want to play!" Poppy chimed in, surprising me. She'd definitely come out of her shell more this year.

Ominis, however, looked less than thrilled.

"Come on, Ominis, it'll be fun!" Poppy coaxed, squeezing his hand lightly.

He exhaled, clearly giving in to her pleading. "Very well. But if the questions are ridiculous, I reserve the right to leave."

We all exchanged glances, silently agreeing that this was a challenge we'd now accepted.

"Excellent!" Gareth clapped his hands together. "Who wants to go first?"

"Me, obviously," Imelda declared with a smug grin.

I narrowed my eyes at her as she stood, already anticipating whatever chaos she was about to cause.

"Never have I ever fancied someone in this circle," she said smoothly, locking eyes with me.

Oh, you little—

Despite her attempt to stir trouble, everyone took a sip of their drink—including me. The game moved on without too much fuss.

"Never have I ever kissed someone in this circle," Milo announced next.

Priscilla, Violet, Ellis, and Noah all took a sip. I hesitated for only a second before raising my goblet and drinking. I could feel Sebastian watching me, his eyes narrowed slightly as if trying to piece something together.

He didn't drink.

That caught some attention. A few people glanced between us, silently questioning his lack of response. I, however, chose not to dwell on it.

Priscilla smirked. "Alright, my turn. Never have I ever... slept with someone."

Oh, for Merlin's sake.

I froze, my fingers tightening around my goblet as, one by one, my friends raised their drinks and took a sip. All of them. Every single one.

Except me.

As realisation hit, all eyes turned to me. The weight of their stares was suffocating.

"Alora?" Violet tilted her head. "You didn't drink?"

"You only drink if you've done it, right?" I asked, knowing full well what I was about to step into.

A beat of silence.

"What! You've never slept with anyone?" she blurted out.

Way to put me on blast, Vi. Thanks for that.

I shifted uncomfortably. "No, I haven't. I'm still a virgin if you all must know."

The air in the room shifted. Some looked shocked, others amused. But it was Sebastian's reaction that unsettled me most. His expression darkened, his grip on his glass tightening ever so slightly. His jaw clenched, lips pressing into a thin line.

"I'm not having that," Imelda scoffed. "Surely you have?"

"Nope, never. Can we move on now?" I sighed.

"A real-life angel, then, eh?" Sebastian's voice cut through the tension, low and edged with something I couldn't quite place.

My eyes snapped to his. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing, darling," he said smoothly, his lips curling into a slow, knowing smile. "Shall we carry on?"

I wasn't in the mood to play whatever game he was attempting.

"I'm going to the lavatory," I announced, standing abruptly. "You lot carry on without me."

I walked off before anyone could protest, irritation bubbling beneath my skin. I shouldn't feel embarrassed about this. It wasn't a bad thing, right? So why did it bother me so much? As I stepped into the dimly lit bathroom, a soft, muffled sob caught my attention. Someone was crying—someone with company. I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but their voices carried through the quiet space.

"And then he said... ugh, I feel so stupid!"

"Don't feel stupid! What did he say?"

"He said he didn't want to continue our arrangement anymore."

"What? But I thought he liked you?"

"So did I! But he wouldn't give me a reason. He just ended it and left me in the changing room."

I stilled, realisation dawning on me.

Samantha.

And she was talking about Sebastian.

My stomach twisted. Why would he suddenly stop sleeping with her?

I quickly washed my hands, leaving before either of them could see me. My mind spun with questions I wasn't sure I wanted answers to.

———————————————

The circle around the fire had grown, now filled with even more Slytherins, along with Hector, Ciaran, Adelaide, her friends, and Leander. At this point, everyone—myself included—was drunk.

"Alora, come on! We're playing Spin the Bottle!" Gareth called out, grinning.

I glanced around the circle, sizing up the players. This was bound to be interesting. With a sigh, I carefully knelt beside Poppy, settling in for whatever chaos was about to unfold.

"Alright, here are the rules," Gareth announced. "You spin the bottle, and whoever it lands on—you kiss them!"

"What are we, twelve?" Ominis muttered, unimpressed.

"Got a better idea?" Gareth shot back.

"I have a few, actually," he replied dryly.

"Come on, let's just start. Who's going first?" Milo asked.

"I will!" Adelaide practically shouted, all but jumping forward.

Of course, she wanted to go first. Rolling my eyes, I watched as she spun the bottle, her gaze already locked onto Sebastian. It was embarrassingly obvious what she was hoping for. The bottle twirled, slowing, missing everyone at first—until it stopped.

On Leander.

A smirk tugged at my lips as Adelaide's face visibly fell.

"Ugh, really?" she groaned.

"Rules are rules, Adelaide," Gareth reminded her.

"I'm not that bad!" Leander defended himself.

With exaggerated reluctance, Adelaide leaned in, pressing the briefest kiss imaginable to his lips. It was more of a peck than anything.

"Alright, who's next?" Gareth asked.

"Me!" Priscilla chimed in, spinning the bottle eagerly.

As we all waited for it to stop, I took another sip from my goblet. If I was going to be kissing someone in front of this lot, I needed it. The bottle finally landed on Violet, prompting a collective "Oooooh" from the boys.

Violet laughed. "Come here, babe," she teased, pulling Priscilla in for a kiss.

"Make it a proper one!" Noah heckled.

The girls exchanged a glance, then, without hesitation, started full-on snogging in front of everyone. The guys erupted in cheers, eating up the unexpected show. When they finally broke apart, Priscilla smirked.

"Don't get too excited, boys," she teased. "It was just a kiss."

"Yeah, a really hot kiss!" Ellis laughed. "Do it again!"

"Piss off!" she shot back playfully.

"Alright, who's next?" Gareth asked.

"I'll go," Hector said smoothly.

A sudden wave of nerves hit me as he spun the bottle. I took another sip of my drink, my head spinning. I was drunk—definitely drunk. The bottle twirled quickly, missing everyone at least twice before slowing... toward me.

Oh, fuck.

Hector's sharp eyes locked onto mine, a slow smirk stretching across his lips as realisation dawned—he was going to kiss me. In front of Sebastian.

I risked a glance in Sebastian's direction. His fingers curled tightly around his glass, the other hand gripping the armrest so hard his knuckles had gone white. His face was unreadable, stone-cold.

"What a treat," Hector murmured, his tone laced with amusement.

My mind raced. Just a kiss. No big deal. It meant nothing. Right?

I hesitated before leaning in. Hector was already watching me with that devilish smile, waiting.

"You ready, sweetheart?" he murmured.

We were inches apart now, his scent of oud, cinnamon, and wood filling my senses. He smelled good—when had I ever noticed that before? The room had fallen quiet, all eyes on us.

I steadied myself, resting a hand on his shoulder. He gripped my forearm, his touch firm but not unpleasant. Slowly, we closed the gap. His lips were warm, softer than I expected, and he kissed me gently at first. A hint of alcohol lingered on his tongue as the kiss deepened. His grip on my arm tightened, his body leaning into mine, and—

"Go on, Hector, lad!" Ciaran whooped.

I broke away, laughing against Hector's lips at the ridiculousness of it.

"You ruined it, mate!" Hector chuckled, shaking his head.

I met his gaze, something unfamiliar flickering between us. For just a second, he looked... different. Warmer. Why can't he be like this all the time?

He let go of my forearm, his fingers brushing down to my hand before lifting it to his lips. He pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to my knuckles.

I swallowed hard, offering a small, sheepish smile before returning to my spot. What just happened?

The game carried on. Gareth kissed Imelda, Poppy got a shy peck on the cheek from Ominis, who blushed furiously. When Ominis spun and landed on Violet, she was surprisingly respectful, sensing his discomfort. A quick, simple kiss, then back to their places.

And then—it was my turn.

My pulse kicked up as I spun the bottle. Please, not Hector again. I couldn't handle that. The bottle whirled, slowing... and stopped.

Sebastian.

Oh, holy shit.

"Go on, Alora!" Imelda cheered.

"Come on, Seb, show her what you've got!" Ellis added with a laugh.

I barely registered their voices. Across the circle, Adelaide's expression was murderous. Hector looked livid.

Sebastian, on the other hand, looked like the cat that got the cream. His devilish smirk stretched wide.

"You ready for a real kiss, darling?" he teased.

"Are you?" I shot back.

His eyes darkened in response.

"Whenever you're ready, guys!" Gareth prompted.

In a smooth motion, Sebastian closed the distance, one arm snaking around my lower back, pulling me flush against him. Oh my god.

His other hand cupped my face, and then his lips crashed into mine.

I melted.

His mouth was perfect—warm, insistent, commanding. Unlike Hector's, which had been soft and careful, Sebastian's kiss was everything. He deepened it immediately, his tongue sliding against mine, tasting of firewhiskey and something distinctly him. My stomach flipped.

His hand roamed lower, gripping my waist, then lower still—grabbing a handful of my bum, squeezing firmly. Heat exploded through me. My body pressed against his, feeling him—all of him.

The room erupted in cheers, but it was all background noise. I was drowning in the kiss, spiraling.

Sebastian groaned softly against my lips, one hand shifting from my back to my throat, gripping just enough to make my breath hitch. His mouth moved against mine with ease, wet, demanding. Then, without warning, he caught my bottom lip between his teeth, sucking gently before releasing it with a quiet, teasing hum.

Fuck.

My head spun. My entire body felt overheated, overstimulated. I needed to stop. I didn't want to stop.

He pulled back, breathless, his forehead nearly resting against mine.

"How was that?" he whispered, his lips brushing mine.

"Uhh... good," I managed, voice embarrassingly shaky.

His smirk returned, knowing. Cocky bastard.

"Jesus, guys, thought you were never gonna stop!" Milo laughed.

Sebastian just grinned. "I probably wouldn't have if you lot weren't here."

As I staggered back to my spot, my mind reeled. Hector looked ready to combust. Adelaide was gone.

And Sebastian? Smug as hell.

How the fuck was I supposed to act normal around him in the library tomorrow?

 

Chapter 11: It’s a date

"YOU KILLED HER!" Sebastian yelled 

"Killed her? No, see I took away her pain like you wanted me too!" I pointed frantically at the girl 

"Alora she's DEAD can't you see!" The boy screamed at me

I knelt down by the boy holding her body in his arms. She was so still, so quiet. I slowly went to move the hairs that covered the top of her forehead. 

"DON'T TOUCH HER!" He spat at me 

"But Sebastian I didn't mean, I thought I was helping her?" I said confused 

Sebastian's head lifted up as he met my gaze, the eyes that once looked at me with love were now ice cold, laced with hatred. 

"You've done enough Alora." He said sternly

 

         "Aloraaaa"

                                  "Aloraaa"

"Alora!"

 

"ALORA WAKE UP!"

My eyes snapped open, and I bolted upright, my skin damp with sweat. My entire body felt overheated, my breathing uneven as I tried to steady myself. Blinking a few times, I took in my surroundings, my vision adjusting to the dim light. Imelda was beside me, her expression twisted with concern. She must have been trying to wake me for a while.

"Oh, thank Merlin! I thought you'd never wake up. Are you okay?" she asked, her voice laced with worry.

"Yeah... just a bad dream," I muttered, though my voice lacked conviction.

"You're telling me. You were thrashing around—are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine," I insisted, rubbing my eyes. "What time is it?"

"Nearly six in the morning."

I groaned, flopping back against my pillow. There was no way I was getting up this early on a weekend.

"I need more sleep if I'm going to be of any use today," I mumbled.

"Got plans?"

"I told Sebastian I'd help him with History of Magic in the library later," I explained, stifling a yawn. "Can't afford to be half-asleep for it."

Imelda hesitated, then smirked. "History of Magic? But isn't he—"

I turned my head to look at her. "What?"

"Nothing," she giggled, shaking her head.

I narrowed my eyes but was too tired to press her. She climbed back into her own bed, and soon, the room fell quiet again. I let out a slow breath, willing myself to relax. Whatever that dream was... I'd deal with it later. For now, I just needed sleep.

——————————————

After finishing lunch, I made my way to the library to meet Sebastian. A dull ache lingered in my head from last night, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. The castle was unusually quiet this Saturday afternoon—most students either lounged in their common rooms or ventured outside for the day, leaving the corridors nearly empty.

As I walked, my stomach twisted with unease. I hadn't seen Sebastian since the kiss, and I had no idea how to act around him now. Would he pretend it didn't happen? Would I? Part of me wanted to get closer to him, but I couldn't. Not now. Not when things were this dangerous.

The library greeted me with its familiar silence, the scent of parchment and old books thick in the air. The only person in sight was Scribner at her desk, eyes flicking up at me briefly before returning to her paperwork. But where was he?

The sound of my footsteps echoed as I moved deeper into the room. The faint rustling of paper and the soft clink of glass caught my attention. I followed the noise, weaving through the towering shelves.

And then I saw him.

Sebastian was sitting at my usual spot, flipping through a book as if he had all the time in the world. He wore a dark green knitted jumper that hugged his frame perfectly, the fabric stretching just right over his broad shoulders and toned arms. His grey trousers fit him just as well, accentuating his legs. He looked effortlessly good—too good. Had he dressed up on purpose?

The table in front of him was littered with parchment, books on the goblin rebellion, and two quills. But what caught my attention was the small vase in the center. Inside it sat a single red rose.

I folded my arms. "What are you doing?"

Sebastian's head snapped up, a slow grin spreading across his lips. "Oh! Alora, there you are."

"Yes, here I am," I said flatly. I pointed to the rose. "And what exactly is that?"

He blinked, feigning innocence. "It's a flower?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, obviously. I meant, what is it doing here?"

He leaned back lazily in his chair, smirking. "It's for you. For our date."

"This isn't a date."

"Technically, it is, darling. We're alone, in a secluded setting... romantic ambiance." He gestured vaguely at the library around us.

"Oh, shut up," I groaned, dropping my bag onto the table and taking the seat beside him.

As I settled in, his scent hit me—cedarwood and crisp apples. Why did he always smell so good? I shook the thought away and pulled out my notes, determined to focus. I could feel his eyes on me as I did, but I ignored it.

"Alright," I said, clearing my throat. "Tell me everything you know about the rebellion, and we'll go from there."

Sebastian blinked. "Erm... I know nothing."

I stared at him. "Nothing?"

"Not a single thing."

I frowned. That couldn't be right. "You knew about the cause of the rebellion in Binns' lesson," I pointed out. "So unless you suddenly developed amnesia—"

He shifted, looking slightly guilty. "I just... remembered it from fifth year. The word Wizengamot sounds funny to me, so it stuck."

"Mmhmm," I said skeptically.

"But that's all I know," he added quickly. "I need your help. Please?"

I hesitated. The library light caught in his eyes, highlighting the golden flecks in them. They were mesmerizing. For a brief moment, I found myself lost in them.

I quickly snapped out of it. Focus, Alora.

"Fine," I sighed. "I'll show you what I have. Let's start this essay."

For the next two hours, we worked through the rebellion piece by piece. I made bullet points, assigned him sections to find in the books, and forced him to write paragraphs about them.

Somehow, despite the studying, there was a constant undercurrent of something else between us. Our knees brushed beneath the table. His hand rested on his knee, fingers occasionally grazing mine—each touch sending a spark through me. Every so often, I'd catch him watching me as I wrote. And when he wasn't looking, I found myself doing the same.

By 3:30 p.m., I was completely drained. If I had to read one more thing about goblins, I was going to hex someone.

"Alright, I think I'm done," Sebastian said, stretching.

"Same. Thank Merlin."

"See? That wasn't so bad," he teased.

"You're right, it wasn't," I admitted.

His smirk returned. "So... now that we've got that out of the way, how'd you enjoy last night?"

I froze. Play it cool, Alora.

"The party? Yeah, it was fun."

He scoffed. "Oh, come on. You know what I mean."

I feigned confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You know."

"Oh—the game! Yeah, that was—"

"The kiss, Alora."

My breath hitched. Damn it. My face burned, betraying me completely.

"Yes," I blurted out. "I enjoyed that too."

His smirk deepened. "Did you, now?"

"Sebastian," I warned. "I came here to help you. Not talk about kissing you."

I hastily gathered my things, suddenly needing to leave. But before I could slip away, he caught my wrist, pulling me back against the bookshelf.

"Hey, wait." His voice was softer now.

I huffed, annoyed—but my heart was pounding. He was close. Too close. His chest had filled out over the years, and I had to tilt my head up to meet his gaze.

"I just wanted to say... I'm grateful you came. Thank you for helping me," he murmured.

"It's fine. What are friends for?" I smiled.

His expression faltered.

"Friends," he repeated, almost mockingly. Then, with an amused chuckle, he reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. His fingers lingered.

"We're not going to be friends, Alora," he said softly, his breath warm against my lips.

Before I could even process his words, his hands cradled my face, and his lips crashed into mine.

My bag slipped from my shoulder, forgotten. His kiss was different this time—slower, deeper. It wasn't like last night's impulsive moment. This was deliberate. Intentional. I melted into him, parting my lips as he explored my mouth, the taste of fresh mint making my head spin.

His hands slid down my waist, gripping me firmly. My fingers tangled in his hair as he hoisted me up effortlessly, wrapping my legs around his waist. My back pressed against the bookshelf as his lips moved to my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

"Sebastian," I breathed, barely a whisper.

He smirked against my skin. "I like it when you say my name."

I met his gaze, and for a second, the world shrank to just us.

"We shouldn't be doing this," I murmured.

He kissed me again before I could finish the thought.

I barely managed to find my senses. "Sebastian... we're in the library."

"I don't care," he muttered.

"Well, I do," I said firmly, pushing lightly against his chest. "I'm not doing this here."

His eyes darkened with frustration, but he sighed, stepping back. "Right. Yeah. Sorry."

I jumped off the table and picked up my bag that was now on the floor. I turned to look at Sebastian who was facing away from me. Maybe he was embarrassed?

"Well, I'll see you-"

"Go on a date with me?" He quickly turned around

The boy interrupted me mid sentence, I was caught off guard by his question. A date? Sebastian Sallow the player was asking me on a date? This wasn't good.

"I mean, can I take you on a date?" He changed his question

I stared at him for a few seconds.

"Please?" He added

"I thought this was a date?" I joked

"I want to take you on an actual date, a good date... if you'd like that?" He said nervously

I really shouldn't be doing this, I needed to stay away but I just couldn't say no to him. He had some sort of power over me that I couldn't describe, it was weird but I couldn't ignore it.

"Okay, fine. I'll go on a date with you Sebastian" I smiled

"Good" the boy grinned

"I should get going, I'll see you soon"

As I turned to leave, his voice stopped me.

"Alora?"

I turned back.

He held up the rose. "You forgot this."

I hesitated, then took it from his hands.

"Thank you," I whispered.

His smirk returned. "You're welcome, Princess."

 

Chapter 12: Wish upon a star

"So... did you and Sebastian do it then?" Imelda asked casually, poking at her food.

I nearly choked on my pumpkin juice. "What?"

She smirked. "The assignment you were helping him with?"

I exhaled, rolling my eyes as she laughed. "Oh—yeah. We finished that."

I pushed the food around my plate, appetite gone. My mind was a million miles away. Was I making a mistake agreeing to this date?

Imelda must have noticed my hesitation because her expression shifted. "Alright, what's up with you?"

I hesitated before finally admitting, "It's Sebastian."

Her eyes narrowed with interest. "What about him?"

I let out a sigh. "He asked me on a date. Like... a real date."

Her reaction was immediate. "Shut up! He did?" She grinned, clearly thrilled.

I groaned. "This isn't good."

"Oh, shit." Realisation dawned on her face. "He still doesn't know who you are, does he?"

I shook my head, running a hand through my hair.

"Hey—wait. You never told me what happened with Ominis. What did he say?"

I sighed. "Ugh, it's a long story."

"Well, I have time. Spill."

As much as I wanted to avoid it, I knew I had to tell her eventually. It was eating me alive, having no one to talk to. So, I gave her the condensed version of events, careful not to say too much.

When I finished, I leaned in. "But you can't tell anyone, Imelda. This has to stay a secret."

She held up her hands. "I swear, I won't say a word. But... how are you going to tell him? He's bound to find out eventually."

I shook my head. "I'm leaving that to Ominis. This isn't my fault in the first place."

Imelda nodded slowly, then shot me a knowing look. "That's fair... but the closer you get to Sebastian, the harder this is going to be to keep from him."

I exhaled sharply, my stomach twisting. "I know. That's why I might just cancel the date."

I slumped against the Slytherin table, sulking. I'd spent all of fifth year hopelessly in love with him, and now that I finally had the chance to be with him—it would be over before it even began.

"Lora." Imelda's voice softened as she reached for my hand. "If the thought of canceling is making you this upset, then don't. Just go."

I hesitated. "But if it goes well... if we get close... then I'm just lying to him. I don't want to lie."

Imelda groaned. "You're thinking too much into this! Just go and enjoy yourself. Take things one step at a time." She squeezed my hand reassuringly.

Maybe she was right. Maybe I was overthinking. It was just a date. I wasn't hurting anyone by going on a simple date.

"Okay," I relented, smiling faintly. "I'll do it."

Imelda grinned. "Fab! When is it?"

I blinked. "I... actually don't even know?"

She burst out laughing. "Fucking moron. What guy asks a girl on a date and doesn't set a time?"

I smirked. "Sebastian, clearly."

As if on cue, Adelaide walked past our table with her usual group, tossing a glare my way. She must have heard me mention Sebastian, but honestly? I couldn't be bothered to care.

At the back of the group, a familiar brown bob trailed behind them.

"Poppy! Come sit with us."

She brightened, hurrying over. "Oh! Hi, ladies. Thank you."

She settled into the seat next to Imelda, but before she could even grab her fork, Imelda smirked. "So... you and Ominis looked awfully cozy last night."

Poppy's face turned beet red. "Uhh, yeah, well—the game!" She waved a hand dismissively.

"Game, my ass. You like Ominis, don't you?" I teased.

"Alora!" she squeaked.

"Oh, come on. Just admit it. Maybe we can help you."

She chewed on her lip for a moment before finally sighing. "Okay, fine! Yes, I like Ominis. I think he's sweet. But I don't know if he feels the same way."

I exchanged a look with Imelda before grinning. "Well, leave that to us. We'll find out for you."

Poppy's eyes widened. "Really? You'd do that?"

"Obviously." Imelda grinned. "Us girls stick together."

I leaned back, crossing my arms with a smirk. "Consider it handled. We'll get you your answer."

As Poppy beamed, I silently added Operation: Find Out If Ominis Likes Poppy to my growing list of things to deal with.

——————————————

Sunday evening had settled over the castle, and I had just finished tending to my beasts in their vivariums. But even after completing my usual routine, I couldn't shake the heaviness weighing on my chest. The whole situation with Sebastian was gnawing at me, leaving me restless.

So, I decided to head up to the Astronomy Tower. Maybe some fresh air and a view of the stars would help clear my head.

As I stepped out of the Room of Requirement, muffled laughter drifted through the corridor. I frowned. It was late—most students were already tucked away in their dorms. Who would be wandering the castle at this hour?

Turning the corner, I got my answer.

Sebastian.

He was with Milo, both of them clearly drunk.

"Hey, boys." I greeted them with a small smile.

"Hello, you," Sebastian slurred, a lazy grin spreading across his face.

Milo chuckled. "Hi, Alora."

I took one look at them and immediately knew Sebastian was the worse off of the two. The smell of Firewhisky clung to them like a second skin.

"Where have you been?" I asked.

"Three Broomsticks," Milo admitted. "Took a little walk before curfew... trying to sober him up." He nudged Sebastian.

I sighed. "Ahh. I see."

Sebastian suddenly stepped closer, his lidded eyes locked onto mine.

"Can I talk to you?"

I frowned. "We're talking now."

"I mean privately," he clarified, flicking his gaze toward Milo.

Milo took the hint, rolling his eyes as he stepped away. "I'll catch you later, Alora."

"Bye, Milo."

As soon as he was gone, Sebastian took another step forward, closing the space between us until we were just inches apart. The overwhelming scent of alcohol made my nose scrunch in disgust, but before I could step back, his hands were suddenly at my waist, pulling me flush against him.

I stiffened. "Sebastian—"

"Do I make you nervous, sweetheart?" he murmured, his voice thick with intoxication.

Was he serious?

I turned my face away, refusing to meet his gaze. "Umm, no."

He groaned dramatically. "Ugh, right."

He was getting on my nerves now. Fine. Two could play this game.

I huffed, prying his hands off me. "Actually, you annoy the living hell out of me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an Astronomy Tower to throw myself off."

Sebastian reeled back slightly, blinking at me in mock offense. "Oh, come on, there's no need to be like that, Alora. It was just a joke."

"Bye, Sebastian."

I turned to leave, but before I could take two steps, his hand latched onto my wrist, pulling me back toward him.

"Oh no, you don't. Where do you think you're going?"

I glanced down at his hand, my patience wearing thin. I was not in the mood to be manhandled, especially by a drunken Sebastian Sallow. My glare was sharp as I spoke.

"Like I said, I have an Astronomy Tower to throw myself off."

With a sharp yank, I freed my arm and started walking again.

"If you don't get back here this instant—" he called after me.

I spun around, crossing my arms. "You'll what?"

A slow smirk curled on his lips. "Oh, sweetheart, you don't want to know what I'll do."

My jaw tightened. "Try me."

But he ignored my challenge, his eyes raking over me instead, dark and heated.

"You look so fucking sexy when you're angry, darling."

Oh, that did it.

If I wasn't fuming before, I was blazing now.

"Fuck off, Sebastian!"

He let out a low whistle, shaking his head with amusement. "Meow. There she is."

"Fuck you!" I snapped.

"Oh, I wish you would, darling. Trust me." His voice was thick with sarcasm, but his eyes held something else—something reckless.

I scoffed. "Ugh, you're impossible, Sallow!"

"Someone's moody tonight," he mused, tilting his head. "Is it that time of the month, my dear?"

My blood boiled.

There was something about drunk Sebastian that made me want to hex him into the next century. The audacity. The sheer nerve. Before I could stop myself, words flew from my mouth—ones I didn't fully mean.

"You know what? Fuck your date!"

The smirk fell from his face. His eyes flickered with something unreadable—hurt, maybe, but it was gone in an instant.

"You don't mean that," he muttered.

I held my ground. "Yes. I do."

No, I don't! What the hell are you doing, Alora?! My mind screamed at me, but it was too late. The words were out, and there was no taking them back.

A thick, tense silence settled between us. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to break eye contact first. Without another word, I turned and headed toward the Astronomy Tower, leaving him standing alone in the corridor.

But as I neared the staircase, my vision blurred, and hot tears pricked at my eyes.

What had I just done?

——————————————

I finally reached the top of the Astronomy Tower, relieved to find the solitude I had been craving. The cool night air wrapped around me, crisp and quiet, offering a much-needed reprieve. But as I stepped onto the stone platform, I noticed a figure sitting near the edge, gazing up at the stars.

"Oh—sorry, I didn't realise anyone was up here," I said, hesitating.

The boy turned at the sound of my voice. Hector.

"Alora?" His brows lifted slightly. "What are you doing here?"

"I come up here sometimes to clear my head," I admitted, my voice quieter than before.

"Same here." He patted the empty space beside him. "Take a seat."

I probably should have kept walking. After everything with Sebastian, sitting with Hector was the last thing I expected to do tonight. But anger still simmered beneath my skin, and I wasn't ready to be alone with my thoughts just yet. So, after a brief pause, I lowered myself beside him.

The sky stretched endlessly above us, a breathtaking canvas of deep blues and blacks, the full moon shining like polished silver. Every star was sharp and clear, dotting the sky in clusters that looked almost close enough to touch.

"Wow," I murmured. "It's beautiful tonight."

Hector hummed in agreement. "You're not wrong."

"I love how quiet it is up here."

"As do I," he said. "It helps me think."

I stole a glance at him. His gaze remained fixed on the stars, his sharp profile illuminated in the moonlight. He really was handsome—there was no denying it.

"So," he said, finally looking at me, "what's on your mind?"

I hesitated. I couldn't exactly tell him the truth, so I went with the easiest lie I could think of.

"Just... family stuff," I said vaguely. "You?"

"Same, really," he admitted. "My father wants me to join the Ministry after Hogwarts. Thinks I could be Minister of Magic one day." He let out a dry chuckle. "Can you believe that?"

"Isn't that a good thing?" I asked, tilting my head.

He sighed. "I suppose. But honestly? No. I'd rather have a simple life—an ordinary job, a quiet house in some quaint village. I'm tired of the blood status nonsense my family is obsessed with."

I blinked at him. This wasn't what I expected from Hector Fawley. His family was one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight—wealthy, powerful, and proud. But the boy sitting next to me didn't sound like them at all.

"Can't you just say no?"

"If you knew my family, you'd know it's not that simple," he said with a wry smile.

"It's your life," I pointed out. "Not theirs."

He looked back up at the moon, as if searching for an answer in its glow.

"My mother always says, 'You can't be a Fawley and be a nobody.' It's her favorite line."

"That's ridiculous," I muttered.

"Tell me about it," he sighed.

I wanted to comfort him somehow, but the words felt inadequate. All I could manage was a quiet, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He turned to me, a small smile playing at his lips. "It's not your fault."

Something about the way he looked at me in that moment made my stomach tighten. His dark eyes gleamed under the moonlight, warm and intense, like melted chocolate. I found myself staring longer than I should have, but before I could dwell on it, he changed the subject.

"Did you enjoy the party on Friday?"

I exhaled, already tired of this conversation.

"Yeah, it was fun."

"Me too," he said, then added with a chuckle, "Though I could've done without seeing you kiss Sallow."

Heat crept up my neck. It really was a wild kiss, and I had been trying not to think about it.

"Yeah..." I sighed. "That was... something."

Hector tilted his head slightly. "Are you two dating?"

The question caught me completely off guard.

"What?"

"Are you and Sebastian together?" His voice was lower now, almost cautious.

I didn't know why, but I hesitated before answering.

"No," I said finally. "We're not."

A slow smile tugged at his lips. "Good. He doesn't deserve a girl like you."

Before I could respond, he shifted closer, draping an arm around my shoulders. The gesture was unexpected—but not unwelcome. His warmth chased away the night's chill, and something about it felt... nice. Familiar, even.

For a while, neither of us spoke. We simply sat there, looking at the stars, wrapped in quiet comfort. I let my head rest against his shoulder, inhaling the scent of oud and cinnamon that clung to his clothes. He smelled good.

For the first time tonight, the weight of my emotions didn't feel so suffocating.

I closed my eyes, savoring the moment. Then, before I could overthink it, the words slipped from my lips.

"Yes."

Hector stiffened slightly. "What?"

I opened my eyes, looking up at him.

"I'll go on a date with you."

A slow grin spread across his face, and just like that, I knew there was no taking it back.

But for now, I didn't want to.

 

Chapter 13: Show us your Patronus

Monday morning had arrived once more, bringing with it the usual chaos of students hurrying through the castle corridors, eager—or not—to make it to their first classes of the day. I navigated my way through the bustling crowd, weaving between my peers as I made my way toward Professor Hecat's classroom for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Stepping inside, I immediately spotted Poppy, Natty, and Ominis sitting together, deep in conversation. I was just about to join them when

"Alora! I saved you a seat"

I turned at the sound of Hector's voice, catching sight of his bright, beaming smile as he gestured toward the open seat beside him. My gaze flickered back to my friends, who hadn't even noticed my arrival, then back to the Ravenclaw boy. Okay, Alora. One class with him won't be the end of the world.

With that thought, I offered a small smile and walked over, taking the seat next to him.

"Thank you, Hector."

"No problem," he replied smoothly, his grin widening. "Might I add, you look lovely as ever this morning."

I felt warmth rise to my cheeks. "Aww, that's sweet of you!"

His expression softened slightly. "I also wanted to say thanks for last night. I don't usually talk to anyone about that sort of thing, but it was nice having someone listen."

His sincerity caught me off guard. I'd never seen this side of Hector before—it was... unexpected.

"Of course," I said gently. "If you ever need to talk, I'm happy to listen."

"Thank you," he murmured, his gaze meeting mine.

And there it was again—that strange, unfamiliar feeling. A fleeting moment of connection, as if we both recognised something in each other's vulnerabilities. It had been so long since I'd felt that kind of understanding.

"So," Hector's smirk returned, breaking the moment, "when are you free for our date?"

Shit. I had completely forgotten about that.

I couldn't back out now, not without going back on my word. The sooner we go, the sooner it'll be over with... right?

"I'm free whenever you want to take me," I replied.

"Tomorrow evening?"

"Yeah, sure. That works."

"Perfect. Make sure you wear something warm," he added with a chuckle.

I blinked. Something warm? I thought we were just going to The Three Broomsticks like he'd mentioned last week. What was he planning?

"Oh... okay," I said, forcing a smile.

Just as the words left my lips, a familiar figure strode past our table. The person came to an abrupt halt in front of Poppy, Natty, and Ominis, as if expecting to see someone else there. My stomach twisted as I realised who it was.

Sebastian.

I watched as he hesitated, then slowly turned his head, his sharp gaze landing on me.

I knew how this looked. It probably wasn't my best decision, but I was single. I was free to sit with whoever I wanted. So why did I feel guilty?

His eyes flicked to Hector beside me, and if looks could kill, we would both be dead. Without a word, he turned back around and stalked toward Ominis, dropping into the empty seat beside him with a forceful thud. His bag hit the floor with an audible thump, his frustration radiating off him in waves.

He was pissed.

Before the tension could settle any further, Professor Hecat's voice rang through the classroom.

"Good morning, everyone! Today, we'll be working on your Patronus charm. This will be a vital part of your NEWTs, so we need to get them perfected!"

The class buzzed with murmurs as students exchanged glances.

"When you're ready, I want you to get up and start practicing. I don't expect mastery today, but by the time your exams arrive, your Patronus should last at least thirty seconds."

Thirty seconds?! That sounded impossible. How the hell were we supposed to manage that?

"Guess we'd better get our happy thoughts ready, then, eh?" Hector nudged me playfully.

Happy thoughts.

Did I even have any left?

Around the room, students began rising from their seats, wands at the ready. Some managed to conjure a Patronus almost immediately, wisps of silvery light forming into distinct shapes. I watched, astounded. How were they picking it up so fast?

I took a deep breath, tightening my grip on my wand.

Come on, Alora.

I needed to find a happy memory.

Flash back from fifth year:

The pair lay on the grassy hill where Isidora's house had long since crumbled into ruin. With their legs stretched out and arms bracing them against the soft earth, they basked in the open space around them. The fight was over—for now. After fending off another wave of Ranrok's goblins, they found themselves here, overlooking Rookwood Castle as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

A warm summer breeze swept over them, carrying the distant melody of birdsong through the air. The horizon was painted in hues of gold, orange, and soft pink, the colors bleeding seamlessly into one another as the sun cast its final glow over the landscape. It was a rare, quiet moment. The perfect end to an exhausting day.

"Well, that's another lot off the list," Sebastian exhaled, chuckling into the evening air.

"Thank god," Alora murmured, still catching her breath. "I think we're getting closer now, don't you?"

Sebastian turned his head slightly, his brow furrowing—not at her words, but at the unintended double meaning that made his chest tighten.

"Uh—yeah," he managed, recovering with a small smile. "Closer to some answers, definitely."

Alora hummed in agreement, her gaze flickering toward the ruins behind them. "We should check out Isidora's house in a bit. There might be something in there that could help us."

"That can wait," Sebastian said, exhaling as he leaned back further into the grass. "For now, I just want to enjoy the view."

He wasn't talking about the sunset.

But Alora, lost in the beauty of the sky, didn't notice the way his gaze lingered on her instead.

"She's stunning, isn't she?" she sighed, admiring the sunset's slow descent.

Sebastian's lips parted, but he didn't look away from her. "She has no idea."

Alora turned, brows knitting in confusion. "What?"

His eyes flicked to the sky just before she could catch him staring.

"The sun," he clarified smoothly. "She has no idea how beautiful she is. She sets in the sky day after day, never realising how much people love and admire her. She makes each day brighter without even trying, without knowing how much power she holds over everyone. She just exists, and somehow, that's enough to make the world better." A soft breath. "I personally love her."

Again, he wasn't talking about the sun.

Alora smiled, the warmth in his words settling over her like the golden light surrounding them.

"That's lovely, Sebastian."

For a moment, the world was silent. There was something unspoken between them, something fragile yet persistent, growing stronger with every fleeting touch, every lingering glance, every moment spent saving each other in battle. Throughout the day, their hands had brushed—reaching to protect, to pull, to steady. His fingers had found her waist more times than necessary, and neither of them had questioned it. Not out loud, at least.

Alora shifted, rolling onto her front to face the ruins of Isidora's home. The motion brought her even closer to Sebastian, their faces just inches apart. Her hair tumbled over her shoulder, cascading onto the grass between them. Sebastian swallowed, his heart hammering in his chest as he took her in—the way the last light of the sun caught the strands of her hair, the way her eyes searched his, waiting.

"Shall we go look inside now?" she asked, pointing toward the ruins, though her gaze remained locked on him.

"Yeah," he murmured. "We can... if that's what you want."

The air between them grew thick, charged with something neither of them knew how to name. Their eyes held, neither daring to move, yet both knowing exactly where this was leading.

Sebastian hesitated, knowing that if he didn't seize this moment now, he might not have the courage to do it again. Slowly, he raised a hand, his fingers ghosting over her cheek before gently cupping it.

Alora didn't pull away. Instead, she smiled—soft, knowing. And then, with the faintest tilt of her head, she leaned in.

"We can do this first," she whispered against his lips.

And finally, they shared their first kiss.

With the memory firmly in mind, I raised my wand, tracing the practiced movements as I spoke the incantation with conviction.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A faint, pale-blue light shimmered at the tip of my wand, swirling outward like mist. For a moment, I could feel it trying to take shape, the beginnings of something more—but then, it flickered and dissolved before it could fully form. That was strange. I was sure that had been my happiest memory.

Before I could dwell on it, a flash of white darted past me, weaving through my legs before bounding across the room. My heart leapt, but I quickly realised it wasn't a real dog—it was someone's Patronus.

"I did it, Alora!" Hector's voice rang out, full of triumph. He grinned as the spectral dog circled back toward him

"Looks like he likes you."

How the fuck did he manage to cast his before me?

Scanning the room, I saw more students successfully summoning their Patronuses. Ethereal creatures now danced through the air, their silvery glow illuminating the space around them. My gaze landed on Sebastian. He, too, was struggling, his brow furrowed in frustration as he tried again and again.

So I wasn't the only one.

Taking a steady breath, I pushed my frustration aside and refocused. If that memory hadn't been strong enough, I'd have to find another. Something even happier.

Flashback from fifth year:

"Sebastian this is incredible! How did you do this?" The girl said in awe

"Well with a little help from Ominis, we got it something like"

The pair stood in the undercroft, the whole floor was covered in lit candles, a walkway from the exit up to the centre of the room was made clear for the both of them. In the centre of the circle sat cushions, chocolate covered strawberries, goblets of pumpkin juice and a blanket. The rest of the room was dark, only the light of a thousand candles gently glowed around them. The boy held out his hand for her as they walked into the centre of the circle.

"I can't believe it, it's beautiful Seb" she smiled at him

"I just wanted to do something nice for you, you've been so busy lately with the trials and what not. I also wanted to speak to you about something"

The girl got a bit scared at his last sentence, worried almost. Sebastian could read her face like a book.

"Don't worry it's nothing bad! Please, sit down" he smiled.

The girl took a seat on one of the cushions, the boy then joining her.

"I just wanted to bring you here because I'm having such a great time with you recently. I haven't felt like this before with anyone in my life. I'm not going to lie I'm quite scared, but since you came to Hogwarts you've made me nothing but happy. Every single day. And I hope I make you just as happy."

"You do Sebastian, I feel the same way" she smiled

"Good, I really care about you Alora, like a lot. You're perfect in so many ways, you're beautiful, smart, funny, strong. You bring light to the darkest of days, You are my sun."  He held her hand

"Sebast-"

"I wasn't finished!" He joked

"Sorry" she giggled

"I just wanted to tell you, that I am completely and utterly obsessed with you and I'll just come out and say it... I am in love with you Alora Winters! I want to keep making you happy for as long as you'd let me. So I just wanted to know, can I please be your boyfriend?"

The boy sat there nervously as the girl before him had tears of joy trickling down her face.

"Yes, a million times yes Sebastian!" She squealed

The girl wrapped her arms around his neck hugging him in a tight embrace. She then looked back at the boy planting a kiss firmly on his lips.

"I love you too, Sebastian Sallow"

Surely, this had to be the one. I tightened my grip on my wand, determination flaring in my chest as I took a deep breath and spoke the incantation with conviction.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A brilliant blue light burst from the tip of my wand, stronger than ever before. This time, it wasn't just a glow—it was taking shape. The magic swirled and stretched, forming the outline of something... something big.

Hector turned to me, his eyes wide as the figure became more defined. "You're doing it! But... what the hell is that supposed to be?"

The glowing form continued to shift, growing larger by the second. At first, it looked like a lizard, but then—wings. Massive, powerful wings unfurled from its back, stretching so wide that the room seemed smaller because of them. A hush fell over the crowd. Gasps erupted around me as my Patronus expanded, nearly filling half the space.

"Oh my god, it can't be!" someone shouted.

"Is that what I think it is?" another murmured in disbelief.

A deafening roar shook the walls, and a blast of spectral fire erupted from the creature's mouth as it finally took its full form.

My Patronus was a dragon.

"My goodness, Miss Winters!" Professor Hecat exclaimed, stepping forward in astonishment. "One of the rarest Patronuses I've ever seen! Well done!"

I barely registered her praise—my heart pounded as I stared at the magnificent creature hovering before me, its ghostly wings flaring, its presence commanding. The awe in the room was almost tangible. It lasted only moments, fifteen seconds at most, before the dragon faded, leaving behind a misty shimmer.

I had done it.

Scanning the crowd, my gaze landed on Sebastian. He wasn't watching in admiration—his expression was darkened with something closer to envy. His grip on his wand tightened, his jaw set, eyes flickering with determination.

"Remember, students," Professor Hecat called out, her voice carrying through the room. "If you cannot recall a happy memory, you can always create one in your mind and use that."

Sebastian reacted instantly. His brow furrowed, and he closed his eyes, clearly envisioning something. A few moments passed before he reopened them, locking eyes with me.

For a heartbeat, everything else faded away.

Then, with renewed resolve, he lifted his wand.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

His voice rang out, commanding the space. A surge of blue light erupted from his wand, brighter than before. The magic twisted and coiled, forming into something massive.

"Wow, Sallow's got a horse!" someone commented, watching in awe.

I followed the glowing figure as it continued to grow. No... that wasn't just a horse.

"That's not a normal horse," Natty corrected, her voice tinged with curiosity.

The creature galloped with an ethereal grace, its hooves barely touching the ground before it suddenly lifted off. Wings—powerful, majestic wings—unfurled from its back, spanning the width of the room.

"Is that a Hippogriff?" Poppy asked, voice filled with wonder.

No. It still had the body of a horse, but it was something far rarer. The winged beast soared above us, its glowing form casting flickering shadows along the walls.

Professor Hecat smiled in approval.

"Sebastian, what you have there is an Abraxan Winged Horse. Also very rare. Well done."

We all watched in awe as the shimmering beast glided effortlessly through the air. It was breathtaking—powerful, elegant, and entirely his.

I turned my gaze back to Sebastian, a proud smile tugging at my lips. The moment his eyes met mine, something shifted. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face, and in that instant, his Patronus faltered.

As if startled, the glowing horse dissolved into mist, vanishing before our eyes.

Only the faint fog remained.

I frowned slightly, my mind lingering on that brief hesitation.

What had he thought of?

 

Chapter 14: Something in the water

Advanced Potions was next on my schedule, but after the success of my Patronus earlier, I was still riding the high from the morning. Nothing could bring me down. Or so I thought.

As I stepped into Professor Sharp's classroom, my usual seat beside Imelda was already occupied—by none other than a redheaded Weasley.

"Oh, I see how it is!" I teased, crossing my arms at the sight of them.

"Sorry, Alora, he literally begged me to sit here. It's just for today!" Imelda replied, sounding almost nervous.

"You get every class with her! Let me sit here for once," Gareth chimed in with a grin.

I rolled my eyes, a small smile tugging at my lips. Truthfully, I didn't mind moving, but I wasn't about to admit that.

"Fine, I'll find another cauldron," I relented with mock exasperation.

Scanning the room, I spotted an empty workstation in the far left corner. By the looks of it, I'd be working alone for this one—everyone else had already paired up. With a quiet sigh, I moved over and started unpacking my ingredients, preparing for the lesson ahead.

Professor Sharp's voice cut through the murmurs. "Is everybody here? Good, then we shall begin. Today, we'll be brewing the Elixir to Induce Euphoria."

As if on cue, the door creaked open, and in strolled Sebastian, completely unbothered.

"Sorry I'm late, sir. I was speaking with Professor Hecat," he said smoothly, holding up a note as proof.

Sharp eyed him disapprovingly but let it slide.

"Very well. Find a seat. You'll be working with Miss Winters today."

Just perfect.

Sebastian's lips curled into a smirk at the professor's words, and I suddenly had the sinking feeling this lesson was about to get a lot more complicated.

"Of course, sir," he replied, strolling toward my table like he owned the place.

From across the room, I caught Imelda shooting me a look—one that practically screamed this is going to be entertaining. She and Gareth had front-row seats to whatever was about to unfold.

Sebastian took the seat beside me, leaning in just slightly. "Hello, you."

"Hi, Sebastian," I replied, keeping my tone flat.

"Funny little trick you pulled this morning," he remarked, voice laced with something unreadable.

I frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Sitting with that prick."

The venom in his tone sharpened the word like a dagger.

"Oh. That." I sighed.

"I was actually coming to apologise to you," he continued, "but then I see you sitting with him, laughable really."

I turned to face him fully. "I'm allowed to sit wherever I want, you know."

"Yeah? Well, not anymore, you're not."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"From now on, any class we share, you're sitting with me." He grinned, completely unapologetic.

Had he lost his damn mind?

"And what makes you think I'll agree to that?" I challenged.

"Because I said so."

I scoffed. "Oh, so I'm just supposed to listen to you now? What are you, my father?"

"No," he said smoothly, eyes dark with amusement. "But you can call me Daddy if you'd like."

I opened my mouth, then immediately shut it, momentarily stunned into silence. What the hell was wrong with him? And why, why did that make my stomach flip?

I shook it off. "Whatever, Sebastian."

He chuckled, clearly enjoying himself far too much.

"Oh, and by the way—we are going on that date. You're not getting away that easily."

I stared at him. "You can't make me go on a date with you."

His smirk widened. "I'm not making you do anything, sweetheart. I know you didn't mean what you said last night, so I'll let it slide."

Okay, yes—I hadn't meant it. But now, on pure principle, I had to make a point of not going.

"I did mean it. We're not going on a date."

Sebastian tilted his head, studying me. "Is that so? Do you have another date lined up instead?"

He was infuriating. So, being the Slytherin I was, I did the only logical thing

"Yes, actually. I do."

His expression barely shifted, but I caught the slight tensing of his jaw. "And who's the lucky man?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

I knew exactly how to push his buttons. And I was about to press all of them.

"Hector." I smiled sweetly.

Sebastian's entire demeanor changed in an instant. His smirk vanished. His lips pressed into a thin line. His hand curled into a fist on the table.

"Are you fucking joking, Alora?"

"What?" I feigned innocence.

"You're not going on a date with him," he scoffed.

"Yes, I am," I shot back.

His eyes locked onto mine, dark and dangerous. "No, I'm telling you—you're not going on a date with him."

I let out a sharp laugh. "And why not?"

His jaw ticked. "I'm not doing this here, Alora. But I've said no."

I was baffled. Who the hell did he think he was?

"Don't speak to me like I'm a child, Sebastian. I'm going on the date, whether you like it or not."

In an instant, both his hands slammed onto the table, the loud crack making me jump. A few students glanced our way, though, fortunately, Sharp didn't seem to notice.

"You know what? Fine. Go on your little 'date' with that bellend." His voice was low, seething. "But you're also going on your date with me."

I blinked. "But—"

"No buts." His smirk returned, sharper than before. "If you said yes to him, then I'm taking you out properly."

Oh, for Merlin's sake. He had me there. If I wanted to keep up appearances, I had to agree.

Two dates. Two boys.

What could possibly go wrong?

"Fine," I muttered.

Sebastian leaned in slightly, satisfaction flickering in his eyes. "Good girl."

I turned back to my cauldron, ignoring the way my pulse definitely didn't spike at those words.

This was going to be a disaster.

——————————————

By the time lunch rolled around, I was more than ready for a break. I met up with Priscilla, Violet, and Imelda at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, filling them in on everything that had happened over the past few days.

"So let me get this straight," Priscilla began, looking bewildered. "First, Sallow asked you out in the library, you said yes. Then the next day, he acted like a complete arse, so you canceled it. Then you went up to the Astronomy Tower, met Hector, and agreed to a date with him instead. Now Sallow's forcing you to go back on your word and go out with him after all?"

"Uh... yeah, basically," I admitted.

The three of them exchanged looks of pure disbelief. Honestly, even I was struggling to keep up with this mess.

"Merlin, Alora," Violet snickered, nudging my arm. "Two dates with two boys? You're starting to turn into us."

Oh, Godric, I was. That was a horrifying realisation. Maybe they were rubbing off on me.

"Well," I shrugged, picking at my lunch, "Sebastian still hasn't told me when this so-called date is, so as far as I'm concerned, it's not happen—"

"A note for you, Alora! Courtesy of Sebastian Sallow!"

A small voice chirped behind me. I turned just as a first-year Slytherin boy popped up over my shoulder, handing me a folded piece of parchment.

Perfect timing.

"Uh... thanks?" I said, confused.

I set the note down in front of me and went back to eating, deliberately ignoring both it and my friends, who were now staring at me like a pack of hungry wolves.

"Well?" Imelda prodded.

"What?"

"Aren't you going to open it?" she pressed, eyes gleaming.

I sighed, glancing between the three of them. They were practically vibrating with anticipation.

"Fine."

I unfolded the parchment carefully, clearing my throat before reading aloud:

Dearest Alora,

It is with great pleasure that I am officially inviting you out—with me. Please join me this Thursday evening for the spectacular event that will be our first date.

P.S. Wrap up warm!

—Sebastian

I blinked. Wrap up warm? Again? Why were all these damn dates happening outside?

Despite myself, I felt a smile creep onto my lips. But then my breath caught slightly. First date. If only he knew it wasn't.

Priscilla leaned in, grinning. "Girl, he is still obsessed with you."

I rolled my eyes. "What makes you say that?"

"That boy hasn't dated anyone since... well... you," she teased. "It's like he's back to take what's rightfully his."

Her words settled over me like a slow, creeping realization. My face warmed, my stomach twisting.

What was I getting myself into?

"Don't be ridiculous," I muttered, brushing it off. "It'll probably just be one date, and then he'll be done with me."

Violet raised an eyebrow. "I don't know... I've never seen him act like this with any other girl before. He definitely still has feelings for you."

I felt Imelda's gaze on me as Violet spoke. Unlike the others, she knew that wasn't the case.

Sebastian had no idea who I really was—or of the history we shared.

His feelings for me had only just begun.

And for the first time in a long time, it felt like I was right back in fifth year all over again.

——————————————

The rest of my Monday and all of Tuesday had passed uneventfully—thank Merlin. Now, Tuesday evening had arrived, and I was getting ready in my dorm for my date with Hector.

"Does this look okay?"

I'd chosen a cream sweatshirt, black fitted pants, boots, and a beige jacket. My hair fell loosely around my shoulders, and I topped it off with a cream beanie to keep warm.

"You look great, as always," Imelda assured me with a grin.

"Thanks. I should get going. Wish me luck."

She waved me off as I made my way toward the castle gates. The sun had set, and darkness blanketed the grounds. Clouds hung overhead, obscuring the stars, but I didn't mind. A sharp chill nipped at my skin, making me shiver.

I really needed to stop agreeing to dates outside in this freezing weather.

"You made it! For a second, I thought you might have bailed on me," Hector teased as I approached.

Honestly? I kind of wish I had.

"No, I wouldn't do that," I lied.

"Good," he said, smiling warmly. "You look lovely, as always."

"Thank you. So do you," I replied, returning his smile.

He offered his arm, and I took it, letting him lead me toward our destination.

"Come on, it's not far."

Where was he taking me?

We strolled arm in arm down the familiar path toward Hogsmeade, but before reaching the village, he guided me right—down toward the sandbanks of the Black Lake. A wooden pier stretched out over the dark water, overlooking the castle. As we descended toward a small cove, I caught sight of hundreds of tiny golden lights wrapped around the wooden fence lining the pier. A bonfire crackled on the sand, surrounded by cushions and blankets, while a small boat bobbed gently in the water nearby.

I stopped in my tracks, my breath hitching.

"Hector... this is beautiful."

The view of the castle at night, the flickering lights reflecting off the lake—it felt magical.

"I'm so glad you like it," he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "I thought we could roast marshmallows over the fire, then head out onto the lake. I did plan some stargazing, but the clouds had other ideas."

He chuckled, but I could tell he was hoping I wouldn't be disappointed.

"This is really nice, Hector. Thank you."

Relief flickered across his face as he led me toward the bonfire. The moment I sat down, warmth wrapped around me like a comforting embrace. The air was still, save for the gentle ripple of the water and the quiet chirping of crickets. A peacefulness settled over me as I took in the castle's reflection on the lake.

With a flick of his wand, a small cool box appeared between us, filled with various drinks. He really thought of everything.

"I've got butterbeer, mead, pumpkin juice, water... or I can make you a hot chocolate if you want something warm?"

I raised an eyebrow, impressed.

"I'll take a butterbeer, please."

"Good choice. I think I'll join you," he said, grabbing two bottles. He popped them open and handed one to me, raising his in a toast.

"To our first date."

The night carried on in a way I hadn't expected. We talked, learning more about each other on a deeper level. We roasted marshmallows over the fire, drank more butterbeer than we probably should have, and laughed—a lot.

For the first time in a while, I wasn't thinking about Sebastian, which was strange. No guilt, no hesitation. Just warmth, laughter, and Hector's easy charm.

"Fancy heading out onto the lake now?" he asked.

"Oh, is that what the boat is for?"

"Well, yes—unless you'd rather go skinny-dipping," he teased with a smirk.

"Shut up," I laughed, shaking my head.

"Come on, let's go," he chuckled, leading the way.

As we approached the water's edge, I barely had time to react before my feet left the ground. Hector had scooped me up effortlessly, carrying me toward the boat so I wouldn't have to step into the cold water. The suddenness of it made my heart jump—and not just from surprise.

"You didn't have to do that!" I protested as he set me gently inside.

"Ladies shouldn't be getting their feet wet just to climb into a boat, Alora," he said smoothly.

Ladies? That word sounded strange when applied to me. Hector was so polite, so well-mannered—it was almost unnerving. Why did Sebastian hate him so much?

Hector grabbed the oars, rowing us steadily into the middle of the Black Lake. The water was calm, smooth as glass, and the only sounds were the rhythmic dip of the oars and the soft lapping of waves against the boat. The stillness, the flickering reflection of the bonfire on the lake—it was mesmerizing. I found myself getting lost in it, losing track of time, of where I even was.

"So," his voice pulled me from my trance, "have you enjoyed yourself so far?"

"You know what?" I turned to him, smiling. "I actually have. Thank you—this has been lovely."

"My pleasure," he said warmly. "I've had a great time with you too."

He stopped rowing, letting us drift as we sat in comfortable silence. Then, slowly, his eyes found mine. That look again. The one that made my stomach flip. His smile was soft, but it held something more—something that made it impossible to look away.

My gaze traced over him—the way his chestnut hair fell perfectly into place, the warm olive glow of his skin against the moonlight, those dark chocolate eyes watching me intently. He was gorgeous. And when the familiar scent of oud and cinnamon filled my senses, I realized we were suddenly inches apart.

Hector cupped my face, his fingers featherlight against my skin, and leaned in—

The water, once still, shifted beneath us. A gentle ripple turned into rolling waves. The boat rocked violently, breaking the moment.

A deep, monstrous noise rumbled beneath us. My breath caught in my throat.

"What the fuck was that?" I whispered, wide-eyed.

"I'm... not exactly sure," Hector murmured, scanning the water.

Before either of us could react, something erupted from the depths beside us, sending the boat lurching sideways. We grabbed the edges for dear life as a massive, towering shape loomed overhead. I swallowed hard, my gaze traveling upward—

Tentacles. Enormous, writhing tentacles stretching high into the night sky before crashing back down into the lake with a thunderous splash.

"Holy fuck," Hector breathed.

The impact sent waves crashing over us, drenching us from head to toe. I sputtered, wiping water from my face as I turned to Hector—only to find him just as soaked, blinking in utter disbelief.

And then, we burst into laughter.

"Did that actually just happen?" I gasped between breaths.

"It's not every day you get interrupted by a giant sea creature, is it?" he chuckled.

Our laughter eventually faded into the quiet of the night. We sat there, clothes dripping, hearts still racing, but smiling all the same. Then Hector reached for me again, his hands still wet but warm against my skin. His eyes locked onto mine, voice dropping to a whisper.

"Now... where were we?"

I hadn't planned on kissing him again after the party last week. But something about tonight—about him—made it impossible to resist.

The butterflies in my stomach stirred as I leaned in, drawn to him like a snake to a charmer's tune. His scent, his touch, the way the night wrapped around us like a secret—it all pulled me in. And as our lips met once more, a single thought flickered in the back of my mind.

How in the world was Sebastian ever going to top this date?

 

Chapter 15: Forbidden Tryst

It was now Wednesday, the days were going by so fast I couldn't believe it. I had Herbology first with Professor Garlick, I really enjoyed this subject it was one of my favourite lessons. It was lightly raining this morning. The sound of the rain dropping on the greenhouse was music to my ears, it was so relaxing hearing the water hitting the glass roof of the greenhouse, I could listen to it all day. It made the atmosphere very soothing. 

"Alora! Welcome my dear, please pick a pot!" 

Professor Garlick was just a ray of sunshine on this gloomy day, I loved her as a teacher. She was so beautiful as well, her lengthy auburn locks were to die for! 

"Good morning Professor, thank you" I smiled 

The greenhouse was just filling up with the rest of the students as I got there. I noticed Ominis was stood by himself, so I took the pot next to him. 

"Hey Ominis"

"Oh hello Alora, how have you been?"

"I'm okay thank you, and yourself?"

"Yes, I'm quite well thank you"

I could sense that the boy was acting a bit off with me, but wasn't sure why?

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I've just been having a bit of trouble with you know what" he said discreetly 

I knew exactly what. I wasn't going to lie, I was a bit annoyed he still hadn't found a way to tell Sebastian yet. But I suppose right now it didn't matter, we weren't that close at the moment, so we didn't need to tell him right now. 

"Well I've got a 'date' with him tomorrow, but we still have time. For now" 

"Just keep doing what you're doing, please. I've never seen him so full of life, it's like he's back at the start of fifth year all over again"

His reply made me happy but sad at the same time. This was so confusing for me, my emotions have never been so mixed in my entire life. 

"Anyway enough about him, I have a question for you!" 

"Oh Merlin what is it?" The boy said sarcastically 

"What are your thoughts on Poppy Sweeting?" 

The boys eyes widened at my question, I swear I saw him squirm a little too. His cheeks threatened to turn a shade of pink before me. 

"Why would you ask that?" He said nervously 

"Just answer my question will you" 

"Well, I think she's a nice girl. Her voice is calming and makes me feel at ease when I'm around her. She's petite as well, which makes me think she's cute." 

Poppy was right, he was sweet. I was surprised he actually opened up about her with me. He hasn't been like that with me in two years. A sense of nostalgia washed over me the more often we started speaking. 

"Excellent" I beamed at him 

"Excellent? Why excellent? Alora, what have you done?" 

"Will you calm down! I haven't done anything, I'm just saying excellent because she feels the same way!"

Ominis froze at the table, he turned slowly to face me almost in surprise. 

"She what?"

"She's told me that she likes you, more than a friend. But she was nervous because she didn't think you liked her back in that way"

A smile, yes a smile appeared on the boys pale face. I was shocked to say the least, he only smiles when he gets his own way or Sebastian gets in trouble. I could see the opportunity before me and decided to get the wheels of my plan in motion.

"I think you should ask her out" I said enthusiastically 

"Oh please, slow down. I need to speak to her first before I can do that"

"That's the whole point of a date Ominis, you ask the person out and get to know them better" 

"Hmm I suppose you're right. I'll have to think about it" 

"Good" 

The rest of the lesson we spent planting the Venomous Tentaculars, I could tell Ominis wasn't really paying attention throughout the whole class. He seemed to have his mind on other things, hopefully he was thinking about how he would ask Poppy out. 

——————————————

History of Magic with Professor Binns was a whole lot different for me this week, compared to last week. As soon as I got to the door of the classroom, Sebastian was already stood there waiting for my arrival. 

"Finally, here you are!" he smirked 

"Why are you waiting for me?" 

"Got to make sure your sat in the right place now, haven't I?"

I rolled my eyes at the boy and walked straight past him into the room. I took a seat at one of the middle desks, Sebastian following right behind me. I got my things out my bag and waited for the lesson to begin, ignoring Sebastian as best as I could. 

"Good morning everyone, I hope you've all done your assignments on the Goblin Rebellion of 1612. Please make sure they're all on my desk at the end of todays class"

As the man was speaking, Sebastian had moved a little bit closer to me and leant back on his chair. 

"Today we're going to be discussing Giant Wars"

Throughout the duration of the lecture, Sebastian and I hadn't spoken a word to each other, not even a note was passed. That was until his arm slowly moved on to the back rest of my chair. The action was odd but again, I ignored it. I was busy taking notes on the war when I suddenly felt his fingers through my hair. I wore my hair down so he was playing with the ends of it as he sat there nonchalantly, what was he doing? I kept my head in place and side eyed him.

"Sebastian?" I whispered 

The boy kept his eyes to the front of the class, fingers still playing with my hair. 

"What?" He whispered back

"What are you doing?" 

"I'm listening to the lecture, what are you doing?"

"Your hands are in my hair"

"And?"

"I'm trying to take notes and your playing hairdresser" 

A smirk appeared on the boys lips as I spoke, he knew what he was doing. 

"Sorry I'll stop then"

"Thanks" 

The Slytherin did in fact stop playing with my hair, but his hand was now resting on my lower back. It took him a few moments until he was now gently drawing circles on it. The sensation sent a shiver down my spine as he did so. It tickled but I kind of enjoyed it, however it was very distracting and students were now noticing what he was doing. 

"Sebastian" I whispered to him again

"Yes darling?" The boy smirked

"Can you stop?"

"Why would I do that? Your enjoying it" 

Could he read minds now? How did he know I was enjoying it! I replied bluntly to not give anything away.

"It's annoying, can you not"

"Fine" 

The boy dropped his arm and now placed it on his lap. A few moments had passed and I was busy writing notes on my pieces of parchment, I forgot he was next to me as I delved into the Giant Wars. As I was still writing I felt his hand brush past my leg. I thought nothing of it and carried on. Minutes had gone by and the boys hand had slowly made its way onto my thigh without me even realising. I glanced down quickly then back at my parchment, I was in a class full of students so I couldn't even make a scene. His hand moved further up my bare thigh very slowly, the sensation gave me goosebumps at his touch. He gently rotated his fingers in a circular motion around the inside of my thigh sending electricity through my entire body. What in the world was he doing! His fingers felt soft against my skin, his movements were so delicate like I was to break into a million pieces if he used pressure. My cheeks started to become flushed, my hands became slightly sweaty. I glanced over to see that his face was like a brick wall, he was still facing the front of the room like this was normal. 

"Sebast-"

"Shh I'm trying to listen" 

His hand then made its way under my skirt, he was very very close to the fold of my thigh. My stomach twinged as his fingers crawled further into the inside of my leg, my heart rate picked up rapidly as he did so, I couldn't believe what was happening under the table. 

"Okay so that's all for today, please leave your assignments on my desk and I'll see you all next week" 

Professor Binns had saved me at last! Sebastian quickly grabbed my thigh with his hand, giving it a firm squeeze before letting go and packing his things away. I'm not sure what the hell just happened but It got me hot and bothered, just like he wanted. I put all my notes in my bag and went to walk out the classroom. A hand then attached onto my arm stopping me in my tracks. 

"And where do you think you're going?" Sebastian pulled me back

"My next class?" 

"We have divination next, we can walk together" he smiled 

I couldn't decide if I was loving the attention or feeling slightly scared by him. What had gotten into this boy? Out of nowhere he grabbed my bag from my shoulder and placed it on his.

"I can carry my own bag you know?"

"What and let you walk away from me? I don't think so"

"I'm not going to run away from you?"

"That's right, because I have your bag. Now come on we don't want to be late" he smirked 

——————————————

We walked through the castle to divination, Sebastian made a point of walking very close next to me, causing a few stares from students around us. What was he up to? 

We finally made it to the ladder of the divination classroom. We were actually a bit early so no one was around when we reached the floor. 

"Ladies first" he smirked 

I turned to the boy, if he thought I was going up first he had another thing coming.

"I don't think so" I said bluntly 

"Why?"

"You only want me to go first so you can have a full view up my skirt, not a chance" 

Sebastian's eyes darkened, a devilish smile appeared on his lips. 

"I won't look, I'm a gentleman" 

"Yeah right" I rolled my eyes 

He took advantage of us being on our own for the moment and moved closer to me making me step back against the wall, he was too close. His eyes locked onto mine as they stared down at me in a dominating way, his hand slowly caressed the top of my thigh before he was pulling on the hem of my skirt. His voice was low and deep as he spoke.

"If I wanted to look up your skirt, I'd do it in a much.. better way" 

My breath caught as he spoke, my heart was beating through my chest, he could probably hear it being so close to me. I was intrigued by his reply so I asked the question.

"And how would you do that?" I whispered 

The boys hand slowly moved up my leg and onto my waist, he pulled me in swiftly and whispered on my ear, his hot breath tickling my neck.

"I can't be telling you all my secrets now, can I Alora?"

He kissed my ear and nibbled on my earlobe then gently kissed down my neck. It was sending my head spiralling, how was he doing this! I quickly pushed him off me before things got too far and got up the ladder as fast as possible. I could hear the boy chuckling from below me. Twat.

I took a seat in the room, obviously Sebastian sat right next to me. He placed our bags down whilst other students were turning up for the lesson. We shared this class with Hector and I was nervous to see him, especially with Sebastian sat next to me. I got my things out of my bag then felt Sebastian's arm around my waist, not this again. I glanced up to ask him what he was doing and my eyes were met with Hector's. FUCK. My face threatened to turn a shade of pink, him and Sebastian were glaring at each other. Could this get any worse? The Ravenclaw then turned at me,   I could tell in his eyes he was disappointed. He stood there as he looked at me sat with Sebastian's arm around my waist. He shook his head and proceeded to take a seat on the other side of the room. I felt awful.

Sebastian had a look of satisfaction on his face, like I was some sort of prize that he won. It pissed me off how he was acting like this, I removed his hand and tried to move away from him but his hand then gripped firmly onto my thigh.

"What are you doing?" He looked at me 

"Get off me Sebastian"  I said annoyed 

I tried to move his hand but his grip was strong I couldn't get it off. 

"No. Your staying sat here, with me" 

"Well I don't want to sit with you when your being like this" 

"Like what?" 

"I'm not some reward you can parade around and show off with Sebastian" 

The boy pulled on my waist and spoke into my ear. 

 "What so do you like Hector now?" 

"No.. but I don't think this is necessary" 

I tried to pull away from him, but again his grip was too strong for me.

"Listen to me, I was nice enough to let you have your little 'date' with him. But I don't like sharing, so yes this is necessary darling"

His arm proceeded to stay on my waist for the remainder of the lesson. My head was all over the place, this wasn't the Sebastian I was used to at all, but I still let him get his own way every single time. His hold on me mentally as well as physically was just obscene, he was like a drug to me. No matter how hard I'd try to stay away, he'd pull me right back. 

——————————————

The rest of that day and Thursday, I had no other lessons with Sebastian so I had some breathing room finally. I hadn't seen him all day apart from lunch where he told me how excited he was to take me out this evening. I had to admit, I was quite excited to see what he had planned. Back at my dorm I'd finished getting ready for my second date that week. 

"Where do you think he's taking you then?" Priscilla asked 

"I honestly have no idea" 

"Probably somewhere dark and dangerous" Violet joked 

"What's that supposed to mean?" I questioned 

"You two were always off doing dangerous stuff in fifth year, it's your favourite activity together" she laughed 

She had a point, we were always out on near death experiences most days. But surely he wasn't going to take me somewhere dangerous for our date?

"I guess you're right" I laughed 

"Well wherever it is I hope you enjoy yourself!" Imelda hugged me 

"Thank you, I'll be back later to let you all know how it goes" I smiled at the three of them.

I bid my friends goodbye and met up with Sebastian at the castle gates. I felt the cold once more and again regretted saying yes to another outdoor date. Hopefully this one will be a bit dryer than the last. 

"Here she is! Wow look at you" Sebastian beamed at me

"Hey Sebastian" I smiled back 

The boy grabbed both my hands, pulling me in slightly.

"Let me get a better look at you" he grinned down at me

The action made me blush, his hands then snaked around my waist as I rested my hands on his chest. I had to admit he looked really handsome this evening and of course he smelt just as good.

"Sebastian!" I giggled 

"You look gorgeous Alora, come on we'll get going" 

He held his hand out for me to take and he guided us to the location of the date. Once again I was being lead on the path on the way to Hogsmeade, until we went over the little bridge before the ruins. I had a gut feeling that the girls were actually right, he was taking me somewhere dangerous. We then took a left and he walked me through the Forbidden Forest. Perfect. 

I hadn't been in the forest for quite some time, so going back in there with Sebastian again gave me de ja vu. Only this time we were on a date and not fighting for our lives. The moon shining through the lattice of leaves was our only source of light, you could see glimpses of the sky and some stars through tree breaks, tall shadowed trunks stretching up like arrows in the air. The ground below cracked underneath us with every step, twigs snapping, the flutter of wings unseen and the howls of dark mongrels in the distance could be heard. I was a bit on edge as we strolled through the place. 

We'd been walking for a good 10 minutes through the forest, we were getting deeper inside and I was second guessing whether I should just turn around and leave. Sebastian could sense that I was feeling apprehensive, he gave my hand a light squeeze in comfort. 

"It's just up here, don't worry darling"

"Okay.."

We finally arrived at the destination. I was shocked to see hundreds of fireflies lighting up the space as well as floating candles in the air. They softly flickered around a table and two chairs. On the table sat a small vase with another singular rose, and two glasses for drinks. The tall trees surrounded the small area as well flowers and bushes, making the space feel more private. A music box was set out on the floor playing songs and a picnic basket at the side. It was beautiful.

"Sebastian" I said in awe as I took in the view

"Do you like it?" He said excitedly 

"It's unbelievable, thank you" I smiled warmly at him 

The boy walked over and pulled out a chair, signalling for me to sit down. 

"Please take a seat" 

"Thank you" 

I was shocked at how nice he was being now, it was like he completely changed outside of Hogwarts. The boy picked up the basket and grabbed the contents inside. He placed down a bowl of chocolate covered strawberries and two bottles of butterbeer. It suddenly gave me a flashback of fifth year in the undercroft, making me feel a bit weird inside. 

"Is everything okay?" He asked 

"Y-yes everything's fine, it's perfect" I smiled 

"Good, do you like chocolate strawberry's?"

That question killed me, they were one of my favourites which he knew about 2 years ago. But now he had no idea, and yet he had them in his basket. 

"I love them" I replied 

"Excellent!" 

The boy filled both glasses up with butterbeer and like Hector, held his glass up to cheers with mine. 

"To our first date" he smiled 

The evening carried on as Sebastian spoke to me about his life, not knowing that I already knew everything about him. It was hard to act like I was just getting to know the guy, maybe this was a bad idea. I then spoke about my life and family, things he already knew about me years ago. It was hard for me to repeat myself and tell him more about myself. He should already know who I am.

“Wow your life sounds way more interesting than mine” 

“Don’t be silly it’s definitely not” I blushed 

We both sat in silence, just looking at one another. The sounds of the forest engulfed around us, I could see something in Sebastian’s eyes the way he looked at me with those two pools of honey put me in a trance. He looked so good across the table. 

“You look so beautiful tonight Alora, thank you for coming on the date with me” 

“Thank you, I’m glad I came” 

We both shared another look, both smiling for ear to ear. I hadn’t felt this happy in a long time. 

Out of the blue, a familiar song started to play out of the music box. 

‘And then I can tell myself 

What the hell I’m supposed to do’

Both of us looked over to where the music was coming from. It seemed to be getting louder. 

‘And then I can tell myself 

Not to ride along with you’

The boy turned to look at me. 

“Would you like to dance?” He smirked 

I paused for a moment, was he really asking me that? I couldn’t help but smile at him. 

“Yes I’d love too” 

He then got up and held his hand out for me, I took it and we walked over to the where the music was playing, the boy snaked his hands around my waist as I placed mine around his neck, and we slowly danced to the music. 

‘I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met’

I couldn’t get over how perfect this seemed, Sebastian never took his eyes off me. I felt like he could actually see me, like we were back in fifth year. The butterflies in my stomach had come back, I felt like a little girl again. He then grabbed my hand and started to twirl me around. 

‘I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, haunted by the ghost of you

Take me back to the night we met’

The boy then lifted me up and started spinning around with me in the air. It felt so effortless, I didn’t realise how strong he was now. 

“Sebastian!” I giggled 

The boy laughed as he slowly put me down. His eyes still on me, there was a passion within them, a fire. He cupped my face gently and crashed his lips onto mine, I melted into him instantly. I parted my lips and let our tongues explore each other’s mouths, he tasted sweet as chocolate thanks to the strawberries. His lips were softer than butter, I honestly couldn’t believe how well this date was going. I definitely enjoyed this one a lot more, and I think I was falling for Sebastian all over again. 

‘Oh take me back to the night we met’

Chapter 16: Restricted Access

Notes:

*Smut Warning*

I woke up the next day with mixed emotions. The date was like something out of a fairy tale I'd read about when I was a little girl, but the weight of the unspoken truth between us felt like it was slowly starting to cast a shadow over me. I needed to tread very carefully.  

"So how did the date go?" Imelda asked eagerly 

"It was perfect Imelda" I hesitated 

"Where did he take you?" 

"We went to the forbidden forest of all places" I softly laughed 

"What! You had a perfect date in the forbidden forest? Your not normal Lora" she joked 

Hearing her say it out loud like that did sound make it sound kind of crazy. But it felt sort of nostalgic to me. 

"It wasn't like that! He'd set up a table and chairs, candles lit the sky around us and there was a picnic basket and a music box. It was enchanting Imelda" I sighed 

"Woah it sounds like he wasn't messing about then was he?"

The girl could see the mix of emotions dancing across my face as I sat there. 

"What's wrong?" 

"It's just last night, he was telling me everything about himself. I had to sit there and pretend I didn't know anything, it was hard Imelda. And then I spoke about myself and it just makes me upset because he should already know all of this." 

"Has Ominis still not spoke to him?" She questioned 

"No. He's telling me to keep doing what I'm doing, but if I carry on the rate I'm going.. it's just going to get so complicated" 

Imelda grabbed my hand and held it to comfort me. 

"Listen, it was just a first date. Don't beat yourself up about it too much. You'll figure it out soon enough Alora. Just enjoy the magic while you can, and when the time is right, the truth will find its way" she smiled warmly at me 

"Thanks Imelda" I smiled back at her

My mind suddenly came back to the necklace that had been sitting in my drawer for some time now. I needed answers on it, I decided in that moment that I was going into the restricted section tonight for sure. My thoughts were then interrupted when a I heard a knock at our dorm door. 

Imelda turned to me as we both shared a look of confusion between us. 

"Who the hell is that?" Imelda asked 

"I'm not sure.. no one ever knocks on our door" 

Imelda slowly got up and walked towards the door. She glanced back at me before she did so. 

"Just open it" I whispered to her

The girl nodded and proceeded to open it slightly, she peaked through the gap to see who was on the other side. 

"Oh, it's you" she rolled her eyes as she opened the door fully 

"Good morning to you too!" He said sarcastically 

Sebastian stood in the frame, uniform on properly, hair immaculately done. He was actually ready on time to go and eat breakfast in the Great Hall. This was a first. 

"Sebastian what are you doing here?" I asked 

"I just wanted to come get you and head to breakfast together" he smiled 

"Is this you asking me to come, or telling me?" I laughed 

The boys face changed to a more playful expression, a smirk appearing on his lips. 

"It's both, now come on I don't have all day" 

I squinted my eyes at him as he demanded my presence. 

"What happened to please? Have you forgotten your manners?" 

"Is it manners Alora? Or do you just want to see me beg." 

A smirk threatened to now appear on my face. 

"It's both" I smiled 

The boys face turned to a more sinister manner. His eyes locked onto mine as he spoke. 

"Oh Darling, you'll soon find out that I don't beg. That's your job" 

"Will you two get a room!" Imelda butt in

I let out a small chuckle at Imelda. 

"Technically, we're already in one" I joked 

"Alora just go with him before I throw up!" she moaned.

I quickly got my things together, bid my goodbyes to Imelda, and walked with Sebastian to the Great Hall. As we strolled through the castle together, once more Sebastian made sure he was right next to me. Students were now taking notice of us suddenly being around each other in the halls and glancing at us both. Was it that much of a shock that Sebastian was seen walking around with a girl now in public? 

——————————————

We finally arrived in the midst of chaos, and made our way to the Slytherin table. Priscilla and Violet were already sat with Noah and Ellis, so we took a seat with the four of them. I noticed the two girls eyes glaring at me with excitement when they realised I'd shown up with Sebastian. 

"Oh look it's Alora and Sebastian" Priscilla teased

I shot her a glance as if to tell her to Shutup with my eyes. 

"Here he isss" Noah egged on

Sebastian had a smirk on his face as he sat down next to me. 

"Hey lads, what's new?" He replied 

"Nothing really, we was just talking about the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw match that's coming up in a few weeks" Noah replied

"Hopefully Ravenclaw performs a miracle that day" he joked 

"I know mate, Weasley's actually got his team looking good from what I've seen. Probably be a Gryffindor house party next on the cards"

"Ravenclaw are good too!" Violet added 

"Not as good as Gryffindor though Vi" he laughed

As the two bickered over quidditch, the boy next to me turned to look at me.

"What do you want to eat?" 

"I'll just have the usual, it's my fave"

Sebastian looked at me with confusion smeared across his face. 

"Which is?" 

FUCK, I completely forgot he didn't even know my usual breakfast order. How could I be so careless! I quickly covered my tracks and replied. 

"Did I not mention it to you last night? Sorry! Pancakes, I'll have the pancakes" I smiled 

"Pancakes are your favourite thing to eat for breakfast?" He questioned 

"Yes?" 

"And you eat them, all the time?" 

"...most days yeah?" I hesitated 

The boy paused, he had a look on his face like he'd just realised something, the gears in his mind seemed to be working overtime. 

"Is everything okay?" I asked 

My question seemed to pull him out of his thoughts in an instant, he smiled at me quickly before reaching over the table to grab me a plate of pancakes. 

"Yeah.. I just remembered something I needed to do, here you go"

He passed the plate over to me. I wished I could read his mind in that moment. What was he thinking of? 

"So how was your date?" Priscilla asked 

My face went warm and I could feel Sebastian's eyes on me, waiting to hear my reply. 

"It was great, we had a really good time" I smiled 

"Oh you went on a date? Since when did you take girls on dates? Where did you take her mate?" Ellis asked 

"The forbidden forest" Sebastian replied nonchalantly 

"You took her in there... for a date? That's fucked up is it not?" he laughed 

Tension lingered in the air around us as Sebastian glared at the boy in silence. I could tell he wasn't happy with his comment. 

"It was actually really enjoyable Ellis, I've never had a better date" I quickly added in

"You two must be made for each other then if that's what your into" he joked 

Sebastian's arm made its way around my waist as he spoke, giving my hip and quick squeeze. 

"Maybe we are" he smiled to the boy

The conversation was then swiftly changed. 

"Are you both coming to the Three Broomsticks later?" Noah asked 

"I can't" we both said in unison

Shocked, we stared at one another and then back at Noah. 

"Oh I see how it is, 'busy' are you?" He smirked 

"No, I've just got some studying I really need to do before the weekend" I replied 

Noah then moved his gaze onto Sebastian.

"I've got quidditch practise" 

The boy looked in between the both of us before he said a word. 

"Hm, very well. What about tomorrow evening then?"

"Yeah we can do that" Sebastian quickly replied 

I glanced at him in annoyance as I wasn't even planning on going out drinking this weekend, but he'd answered for the both of us before I could get a word in. I then felt another squeeze to my hip. 

"Excellent, it'll be like a big group date" he laughed 

After we finished off eating our food, we said goodbye to our friends and made our way out of the Great Hall. I didn't want to be late for my first class so I walked with some pace. 

"Hey will you slow down?" Sebastian asked me annoyed 

"I don't want to be late for class" 

The boy grabbed my hand and pulled me into an alcove of the corridor. 

"What are you doing?" 

"I need to talk to you" 

He put both hands on my shoulders whilst looking down at me, his eyes asserting dominance as he did so. 

"Listen to me"

"What Sebastian" I said annoyed 

"I'm going to be walking you to and from all your classes from now on, okay?"

"What? I'm not a child, you're already sitting with me in our classes, you don't need to do this as well"

His hands slowly made their way down my arms as he spoke. 

"Alora, I can't let you walk around the castle on your own, I'm doing this for you" 

"But won't that make you late for your lessons?"

"Don't worry about me, I'll be just fine"

I had no energy to even argue back with the boy, so I just agreed to get it over with. Thank god today was Friday. 

"Fine, I have mathematics now so we best get going" 

I started to walk off from the Slytherin, but was swiftly being pulled straight back to him in one motion. 

"Wait one more thing"

"What?"

"You said you were studying tonight?" 

"Yeah..?"

"Well when I finish with..quidditch practice, I'll come see you. Will you be in your dorm?" 

"Yeah I'll be there" 

The boy smiled warmly at me.

"Okay good, come on then let's get you to class"

Shit. Now I had to make this library trip quick if I was to be in my dorm by the time Sebastian got there. 

——————————————

The rest of the day continued and Sebastian had stuck to his word. Whenever I finished my classes, he'd be right outside waiting for me to take me to my next one. I don't know how long I could take this for, but he was surely making a statement around the school. That evening I finally had some time on my own, my plan was to go back to my dorm to grab the necklace and make my way to the library with it. 

When I entered the common room, it was quite busy this Friday evening. Students were all relaxing or heading out for the night ahead. I quickly walked past everyone without bringing attention to myself, and made it to my dorm. The room was dead, no one was here thank Merlin. I opened my drawer and laid my eyes on the piece of jewellery. It really was stunning, I definitely needed to wear it more often. 

"Oh Alora, I didn't know you was here"

Imelda's voice took me by surprise, I quickly shut the drawer with the necklace still inside. 

"Imelda, it's you!" I smiled

"What are you doing?" 

"I was just grabbing some bits, I'm going to the library to study for a bit"

"Oh okay! I'll see you later then?"

"Yeah for sure! Hey aren't you supposed to be at quidditch practice?"

Imelda looked at me confused. 

"Quidditch? No, we don't have practice tonight...why?"

That little fucker had lied to me! If he wasn't at quidditch then where was he? And what was he doing?

"Oh! I must have gotten my days mixed up, my bad. I'll catch you soon, okay?" 

I hastily left my dorm and made a beeline to the library. In the tranquil embrace of the night I finally entered the spacious hall, once more I was met with silence on this Friday evening. No one was here, Scribner wasn't at her desk either, so I took the opportunity before me. I cast the disillusionment charm on myself and snuck over to her desk, stealing the key to the restricted section. As I enter the section, a sense of anticipation and caution enveloped me, I definitely could not get caught in here. The place was dimly lit and again I felt a wave of nostalgia wash over me, the last time I was in here I was looking for a book with Sebastian, and now I was in here trying to find a book that Sebastian had used. 

I spent the next 15 minutes on the hunt for the thing. I got deeper and deeper into the restricted section, flicking through ancient books, tomes and dark magic literature. Nothing was what I was after though, where the hell was it? 

I eventually found a book that could prove useful and sat down at the table reading through its pages. All of a sudden a subtle shiver ran down my spine as an unspoken awareness settled in - the feeling that I wasn't alone. The room was quiet, shadows seemed to shift around me and my senses heightened. A layer of uncertainty slowly descended onto me. A voice then emerged from the shadows.

"Alora?" 

The familiar voice made me jump out of my skin. I turned around in the direction the voice was coming from. 

"Sebastian? What are you doing here?"

I shut the book and got up from my seat.

"I could ask you the same question"

He slowly made his way over towards me. His presence looming over me. 

“I asked first, why aren’t you at quidditch practice?”

The boy took another step closer to me. His voice became deeper, his tone lowered as he spoke slowly. 

“Okay, you got me. I lied about quidditch practice, I came to put some things back I no longer needed”

He held the few books he was carrying in the air to show me, but I couldn’t make out what they were due to the dim lit room. He was then taking another step closer in my direction, making me move back into the table. 

“Now tell me, why aren’t you in your dorm studying, Alora?”

I held his intense gaze whilst withholding the truth from him.

“I needed something” I said quietly 

Sebastian was now inches away from me. He stared down at me, asserting his dominance. 

“What exactly?”

“I’ll know it when I see it”

“You’re being awfully cryptic” 

He slowly placed the books he was carrying down on the table, his arm brushing my shoulder as he leant down to do so. 

“Am I?” I acted oblivious 

The boys gaze was back on me, the fire that made an appearance last night was back in his eyes. 

“Maybe what you’re looking for is right in front of you?” A sly smile played on his lips 

My breath hitched as he spoke, his words though dominating, carried a certain magnetism that was hard to resist. I looked down momentarily, he was so close to me now. 

“Maybe” I murmured 

Sebastian’s fingers found their way under my chin, he lifted my head up to meet his gaze once more. Notes of cedar wood and apples swirled around my nose sending me into his trance. I could feel his hot breath on me as he leant into me. Slowly closing the distance, his lips finally came crashing into mine. His hand then found itself wrapped around my waist, pulling me in close as the kiss between us deepened. My lips parted as I let our tongues explore each other’s mouths, his kisses were intoxicating and so addictive. I couldn’t get enough of him.

Our breaths became heavier, my heart started to race as his hands now explored my body. His kisses then moved down my neck sending shivers down my spine, his hot breath tickling my skin with every touch. 

“Sebastian” I spoke breathlessly into the air

Sebastian let out a low growl in response, still putting kisses up and down my neck.

“Alora you know what that does to me”

His eyes then met with mine, they were filled with passion as we let ourselves go in the forbidden section of the library.

“Do you trust me?” He whispered on my lips 

All my other thoughts were out the window, all I could think about was this moment right now. My voice broke as I tried to reply.

“Y-yes” I spoke softly 

His body was pressed against mine, his hands lingered on my waist.

“Do you want me to make you feel good” he replied

His words gave me butterflies sending my head spiralling once more. I was struggling to get my words out.

“I-i”

“Tell me” he whispered 

“I want you to make me feel g-good” 

He then lifted me on the table so I was sat on it, he placed his thigh in between my legs to keep them separated. His hands then slowly made their way to my thighs, tracing lines with his fingers. He sucked on my earlobe and began kissing my neck once more. He spoke in between kisses. 

“Beg” 

“W-what?” I whispered 

“Be a good girl, and beg for it” he said with more aggression 

I absolutely folded immediately and did what he said. 

“Please”

As soon as the word left my lips his hands were up my skirt and pulling my underwear down. I was a bit nervous as he did so as I’ve never experienced this before in my life, but I trusted him. I leant back slightly on the table giving him easier access to that sacred area.

“Don’t worry, just relax.. I’ll take good care of you” 

“I trust you” 

His thumb then caressed my bottom lip pulling it down slightly. 

“Open” he whispered

Again I listened to the boy and opened my mouth, two of his fingers then followed. I sucked on them slowly as he watched intently, I could tell he was enjoying what he was seeing. A few minutes passed and he was pulling his fingers out and placing them on my clit, gently rubbing it in circular motions. The butterflies in my stomach then moved to uvula, pulsating with every circle he drew. It felt like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. A small moan escaped my mouth as he was pleasuring me. 

“Oh Seb-”

“You’re getting so wet now darling, are you ready?” 

I nodded my head in response for him to go further. The boys finger slowly slipped inside of me testing how well I could take it, the feeling was unusual but felt good. His other finger then slid up, so both digits were now inside sending electricity through my body. 

“Oh Merlin, your so tight” 

The boys lips met with mine once more as he was pleasuring me with his fingers. The kiss deepened and his rhythm picked up, my pulse raced and my body began to get hot. Unexpectedly he pulled both fingers out and put them in my mouth once more.

“I want you to taste yourself” he whispered 

I sucked on his fingers again, the taste of them now on my tongue. The boy pulled them away and began kissing me, our tongues now sharing the taste of my slack. This was so hot. Again he slipped his digits inside me and I was becoming undone. My legs felt weak as his pace picked up, I grabbed onto his shoulder for support, whilst his other arm held onto my lower back. I could feel a wave of euphoria edging towards me, my moans became louder and his rhythm picked up even more. 

“That’s it baby, release for me.. good girl”

His words tipped me over the edge and ecstasy took over my entire body, I could feel myself pulsating hard around his fingers.

“Sebastiannnn!” I moaned 

The boy had a devil smile plastered on his face as I reached my climax, he looked like he just accomplished the greatest mission known to man. He then placed a soft kiss on my lips to finish and I put myself back together. 

“Thank you” I said awkwardly 

“Your welcome” he chuckled 

“Maybe we should go back to the common room?”

“Good idea, Scribner will probably think there’s a banshee down here the way you was moaning” he laughed 

I playfully slapped him across the arm, and collected my bag. As I looked back at the table, one of the books Sebastian placed on there called out to me. 

‘Enchantments of the Dark Arts’

“Will you check the coast is clear so we can leave?” I asked him 

The boy wandered off and I slipped the book into my bag. Hopefully I finally had the answer I was desperately looking for now. 

Chapter 17: Obsessed with you

Notes:

Sexual content warning

Sebastian's POV

I woke up feeling accomplished this Saturday morning, I truly did outdo myself this time. The thrill of last night coursed through my body, the taste of her lips still lingered on mine. I couldn't believe how close we were getting, and tonight it would only get better. My mind was just consumed with thoughts of her, it was like I couldn't think straight, all I could think about was her. My obsession with her was tightening its grip around me, a possessiveness that fuelled a relentless desire to make her mine. She was taking over me completely. I wasn't used to this at all? What the hell was happening to me? As I sat in bed thinking of the her and the night before, somehow Ominis could sense something was up. 

"Sebastian? What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? This girls driving me fucking insane Ominis! That's what wrong! She's like a drug I can't get enough of. I think about her morning, noon and night. I need her, she's mine."

Ominis sighed in annoyance, his patience clearly tested by my sudden outburst.

"You can't just go around claiming girls as your own you know?" 

"Oh I can, and I will" I declared 

"You're insane Sebastian" he muttered

"She's making me insane!"

"This isn't healthy, you're going to scare the poor girl away" he moaned 

A twisted grin crossed my face, a blend of desire and probably madness. 

"But she's different Ominis! I'm drawn to her like a moth to a flame, I can't resist her pull" 

"Sebastian, you need to control yourself. Listen to what you're saying!" He yelled in frustration 

I got out of bed and started pacing up and down the room, ignoring his warning completely.

"I can't control it Ominis, she's in my head, under my skin. I need her to complete me"

"You seriously need to calm down, she's just a girl. She's no different from the others you've bedded" he shook his head 

"She is though, she's perfect. I can just feel that we're meant to be, that's why I can't let her go. She's mine and I'll make damn sure she realises it"

Ominis seemed taken back at my words, he took a breath. Worry palpable in his voice. 

"Now you're just sounding delusional, Sebastian. I'm glad that she makes you so happy but please, be careful.. you can't force destiny"

Ignoring the boy once more, I replied.

"Why would I need to be careful? No one can resist destiny, especially not her. Anyways, we have another date tonight so we'll soon see, won't we" I smirked

"I'm sure we will" he sighed 

————————————————

It was now noon, I'd let Alora have the day for herself as I'd be spending time with her this evening. I didn't want to fully suffocate the girl, did I? As much as I craved her presence every single moment, I couldn't be with her all the time, not just yet anyway. I obviously missed lunch again, so I headed to the kitchens for a good meal. The distant sounds of laughter and conversation echoed through the corridors, a reminder of life within the castle walls. My journey continued as I walked casually down the steps towards the beloved kitchen. The aroma of cooked food still prominent in the air, as I was about to tickle the pear on the portrait a familiar voice had stopped me. 

"Sebastian, fancy seeing you here. It's been a while" she smiled hopefully

I give her a small nod her way, my eyes distant. As nasty as it was, I didn't want to give her any impression that I actually gave a fuck about her.

"Adelaide hey, yeah life's been busy lately"

I could sense a nervous energy in the air as she spoke. Was this conversation really about to happen? Her eyes looked at me increasingly.

"I was thinking we could catch up sometime?"

Oh fuck here we go. I thought I could get away with just ignoring the girl. I hoped that she'd just leave me alone by now, but clearly I was wrong. I took a small breath and looked in her direction.

"Look Adelaide, I've got a lot on with NEWTS and everything. I don't really have the time" 

I exhaled sharply, my impatience starting to show. Her expression faltered as I did so, I could tell what I said had hurt her. 

"Sebastian what's going on? Since the Slytherin party you haven't spoke to me, I haven't seen you, that's not like you"

"Well things change Adelaide. You're a nice girl, but I don't really want to continue with our arrangement anymore. I'm sorry"

The tone in her voice turned nasty, she was bitter. 

"So you kiss her in a stupid game and now suddenly you don't want to bother with me? How convenient" She said bluntly 

I turned fully to face the Hufflepuff girl, how dare she say something like that. Who did she think she was? I mean, she was right but who was she to say that. I was pissed, but I kept my cool. 

"That's none of your business first of all, and second of all, it's not like me and you were ever a thing. We would never be anything more than just sex Adelaide, you knew this"

The girls expression turned sour, she didn't like that at all.

"You're a prick you know that? Just use me for sex and fuck off when you get bored"

"Oh come on, I hardly used you for sex. We barely did it anyway!"

"We did it enough"

"Whatever, just stay out of my way Adelaide" I said bluntly 

"Go fuck yourself Sallow" she spat

She stormed off straight past me leaving me by myself once more. Thank Merlin that's done with! I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, both girls had now been told I no longer wanted to sleep with them anymore. Now all that was left to do was to get Alora properly. 

————————————————

Evening had finally arrived, I was so excited to see Alora, I'd really missed her today. I went back to my dorm and got my wash bag, making my way to the boys bathroom. As I navigated towards the row of sinks and mirrors, each one identical to the next, the air carried a distinctive aroma of antiseptic from recent cleaning and body wash from previous use. The shower stalls all stood in a row, I noticed no one was actually using one. I was alone. 

I got undressed, placing my clothes in a neat pile on a bench outside the shower. Stepping into the shower I turned the knob, a rush of warm water enveloped me as it cascaded down my body. Steam had started to evaporate as the water got warmer, it felt so good against my skin. In this moment, the utilitarian surroundings give way to an unexpectedly sensual experience, turning a routine shower into a brief escape filled with allure. Lost in thought, the touch of water felt like a tender caress, as if echoing the warmth of her presence. The shared bathroom I was now alone in had transformed into a sanctuary where the essence of Alora lingered. My mind was filled with thoughts of her once more, her big blue eyes, her soft plump lips, how her hair always seems to be just perfect no matter how she styled it. I started to think about how she touched me, her delicate hands on me in the library last night set my whole body alight. I couldn't believe how she gave herself to me like that, she was just perfect. 

Her legs felt so smooth and slender, her small waist accentuated perfectly by the curve of her hips, she was a woman and I was obsessed with every inch of her. My mind flayed from ideas of her lips, to a different kind of lips. Wondering what she might taste like if she'd been in this shower with me. The throb of her arousal around my fingers in the library came back to me, how tight, how vulnerable, how perfect she was. As I continued retracing my steps from this near memory we shared tenderly, my member grew and was suddenly in my hands. The thought of how tight she was made me rock hard, I started to move my hand up and down, giving my member long hard strokes. 

The memory of how wet she was for me only made me go faster, the warm water from the shower acting as my lubricant, it only made me spiral deeper into my thoughts. There was so much I wanted to do with her, it consumed me whole. She was so tiny, would I even be able to fit inside her? The more I thought about it the faster I was going, a small groan escaped my mouth as the pleasure was coursing through my body. It sent a shiver down my spine, she was just so sexy I couldn't wait to have my way with her properly. She looked like she'd look so good in any position I put her in. 

My mind was going crazy by now, I was edging myself to that euphoric feeling. The way she sucked on my fingers was so hot, I wonder if she could fit my cock in her mouth like that? The way she tasted herself on my fingers, licking up all her arousal just made me even more obsessed about her. The fact that she was pure as well, untouched by any other man was the cherry on top. She is an angel from heaven and I was going to be her devil. My body felt weaker as I was about to reach my climax, my breaths became heavy and it felt like electricity was surging through my whole body. 

"Aloraaaa"  I groaned

I leant back on the shower wall for support as I let myself climax over my body and the shower floor tiles. It took me a minute just adjust myself before I was watching the water wash away all my sins, she had me in her trance and there was no way I was getting out of it any time soon. The girl was embedded in my brain and soon enough, she was going to belong to me. 

————————————————

I'd finished up in the shower and was finally ready to meet Alora, I made my way to her dorm to pick her up for our group date. I placed myself in the frame of the door, knocking 3 times. I could hear muffled sounds of movement from the other side as I waited for her to answer the door. After a few minutes she finally opened it. 

"Sebastian, there you are!" She smiled 

The girl standing before me looked absolutely beautiful, I stared at her for a few seconds taking her in before I even opened my mouth. 

"There you are!" I smirked 

"You look lovely" she complimented 

"You look even more lovely dear, are you ready to go?" 

"Thank you, yes I'm ready. Lead the way" 

"Perfect" I smiled 

She shut the door behind her and we finally made our way to the Three Broomsticks for the evening. The pub was as lively as ever when we arrived there, music was playing throughout the place creating a fun atmosphere for the customers. Witches and wizards enjoyed a drink as the smell of alcohol wafted through each floor. It was good to be back, especially because this time I was with Alora. We both made our way to the bar and were greeted by Sirona. 

"Oh it's good to see you two back in here" she smiled 

"It's good to see you too Sirona, please can we get some drinks?"

"Of course my dear, what would you like?"

I looked at Alora to see what she'd like to drink.

"I'll have a butterbeer please Sirona" she smiled 

"And I'll have a fire whiskey please" I added 

"Coming right up!" 

As we waited for our drinks, I could feel a tension between Alora and I for some reason, she looked reserved in a way. 

"Is everything alright?" I asked 

The girls eyes were everywhere but on me, she seemed distracted.

"What? Oh, yes I'm fine! Why wouldn't I be?"

I squinted my eyes a little, what was up with her? I glanced around the room to see if there was anyone in here that maybe causing her to act like this. Upon quick inspection I noticed a table of boys in the far back corner, one of them being Hector. 

"You would tell if something was up, wouldn't you?" I questioned 

"Yes of course! I'm fine, I swear Sebastian"

I stared at her for a few moments, raising my eyebrow at her. 

"I promise I'm fine!" 

I pulled on her waist to bring her closer to me, I looked in the direction of the boys whilst I kissed the top of her head.

"Okay" I whispered 

"Here's your drinks!" Sirona said cheerfully 

I turned around and grabbed them off her.

"Thank you!"

We both then made our way upstairs where the rest of our friends were. The space was quite full already, tables and chairs dotted everywhere around the place. I couldn't see who we were looking for until a familiar voice called out to us.

"Sallow! Over here!" Noah yelled 

My eyes stopped on the boy, they were sat near the back secluded from everyone. I held Alora's hand as I guided us through the crowd to our friends. As I navigated us around, I couldn't help but notice the admiring glances directed at Alora. It irked me the way the guys couldn't look away, but I focused on reaching the table. 

"Hey girl! Glad you made it" Priscilla said excitedly to Alora 

"Hello girls, you both look stunning" she smiled 

"Thank you! Says you! You look fab Alora" Violet added 

We both sat down on the spare seats at the table.

"You look gorgeous too Sallow!" Ellis joked 

"Thanks mate, I thought I'd make an effort tonight" I laughed 

"Simply stunning bro" Noah teased

The night continues on as I kept drinking from my fire whiskey, the rich flavor warmed me as laughter and animated chatter filled the air. The magical lanterns overhead cast a soft glow on the worn wooden tables, creating an inviting atmosphere. I joined in on the banter of the group, sharing tales and jokes with Alora and our friends. We were all having a great time together. The Three Broomsticks felt like a haven of camaraderie, my worries seemed to fade away every time I came here, simply the joy of the moment taking centre stage. 

“Please excuse me, I’m just nipping to the lavatory” Alora said quietly 

I looked up at her, staring right into those ocean eyes, she was just so beautiful, I didn’t want to see her leave.

“Okay, hurry back though” I smiled at her 

“I will I promise” 

“Oh we’ll come with you girl!” Violet added 

I felt relieved to know her two friends would be going with her. I watched on as the girls walked away from us, I kept an eye out on them from the table to make sure they were okay and not being bothered. 

“So what’s the deal with you two then?” Noah asked 

A smirk appeared on my lips as I turned back to the boys, taking a sip from my fire whiskey. 

“I can’t lie, I want her”

“Have you fucked yet?” Ellis asked eagerly 

I glanced between the two boys, not wanting to discuss my personal matters with them both. 

“A gentleman never tells lads!” 

“You told us about every other girl you shagged though?” Noah questioned 

“Yeah well she’s not just any girl. She’s not even in the same category, she’s incredible”

“Fucking hell someone’s in love” Ellis joked 

Another smirk appeared on my lips, maybe he was right. Maybe I was in love with Alora? 

“Shutup lad” I laughed 

I inspected the area once more looking out for our three dates, I spotted Violet and Priscilla walking back to us but noticed Alora wasn’t with them. The girls came and sat back down, desperate to know where Alora was I asked the question.

“Where’s Alora?”

The two girls shared a look with each other before answering me.

“Well?” I pressed 

“She’s just over by the lavatory.. she bumped into Hector” she said sheepishly 

“What?” I said coldly 

The girl pointed over to where Alora was, and lo and behold there she was, talking to that pretentious prick. I was furious. I sat up slightly so I could see their encounter better. As I spied on the pair, a surge of anger coursed through me. Every word they exchanged felt like a jab, I couldn’t even stand the sight of him, my mind was my worst enemy, conjuring irrational scenarios. Did he just touch her fucking shoulder? I couldn’t shake the jealousy gnawing at me. It's maddening, the thought of someone else encroaching on what's mine. I needed to get a grip, but every moment they shared together just intensified the fury burning inside me. I had to go over. 

“What’s taking them so long?” 

“I’m not sure” Violet added 

“I’m going over, fuck this” I declared 

I slammed my glass onto the table and stormed my way through the crowd to the girl. I made my presence known as soon as I got to them. I put my arm around Alora’s shoulder, my face as cold as stone as I looked at Hector. 

“Is he bothering you Alora?” I said bluntly 

“Sebastian, there’s no need to be like that we’re just talking”

Why was she sticking up for him?!

“It’s fine Alora, I’ll leave you to it” 

The boy gave a small smile to Alora and completely ignored me altogether, prick. The girl then turned around to me in a huff, she was annoyed. 

“Why would you do that?” She pressed 

“Why are you even talking to him?” 

“It’s not illegal for me to speak to someone Sebastian!” 

“Well I don’t like you speaking to him!”

The girl started to walk away from me, but like fuck was that happening. I caught her arm and pulled her back towards me. 

“Get off me Sebastian!”

“You don’t walk away from me. Got it?” I said sternly 

“What the fuck is your problem! Why are you acting like this?” She stressed at me 

I paused for a moment, I didn’t want to argue with her. I cared about her so much I didn’t want to lose her because of my issues. I let go of her arm and took a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry”

Alora just stared at me, anger still apparent in her eyes. 

“It was always Hector this, Hector that with the girls. I could never get away from it. It was the most annoying thing ever! I was jealous, and what? He just touched your shoulder, and I’ve never wanted to break someone’s face so badly. There’s no hidden meaning behind it… I like you.”

The girl looked down as I spoke, not wanting to meet my gaze. I softly placed my finger under her chin raising her head up towards me. 

“Look at me, good girl” I smiled warmly at her 

“I can’t deal with your outburst’s like this..” 

I removed my fingers from her chin and placed them on her arms, stroking them lightly as I spoke.

“Listen, I can’t promise I’ll do better. But I’ll certainly try for you. I just don’t like other people ogling at you or touching you, It angers me so much I just want to protect you.”

The girl gave me smile before she was wrapping her arms around my waist, holding me in a tight embrace. I placed my chin on her head as I held her. It made me feel all warm inside. 

“I like you too, Sebastian” she whispered.

Chapter 18: Edge of Glory

Notes:

Smut warning

Flashback from 1881

In the warm glow of the setting sun, a 6 year old Alora sat at the family dinner table, a mosaic of colours painting the sky outside. The aroma of a home-cooked meal wafted through the air as Robert and Elizabeth, her parents, shared smiles. The clinking of cutlery echoed as they engaged in lively conversation, the love in their eyes reflecting the bond that held them together. Alora's laughter joined the chorus of familial joy, creating a timeless summer evening. 

"Come on Alora, finish your tea or you won't have dessert" Her mother warned 

Alora screwed her face up at her mother's words, she'd been pushing her carrots around her plate for the last 10 minutes. She hated carrots. 

"But mummy, they don't taste good!" She moaned 

"I don't care, they're good for you!" 

Elizabeth stood up taking her and Robert's empty plates into the kitchen. With her back now fully turned from the both of them, Robert took the opportunity to lean over to his daughter. He took the remaining carrots off her plate, eating them quickly in front of her. 

"Shhh don't tell your mother" he whispered 

Alora's face lit up as her father had eaten what was left of her meal. She giggled quietly with him. 

"Thank you daddy" she whispered back

"Now go and give your mother your plate so we can have dessert" he smiled back

The little girl jumped off her seat and proudly walked into the kitchen with her empty plate. 

"Here you go mummy, all gone" she smiled innocently 

Elizabeth looked down at her daughter and then poked her head out of the kitchen door, sending a knowing look to her husband. 

"Robert?" She questioned 

He sat there also looking innocently at his wife, but she knew the two were accomplices when her back was turned. She rolled her eyes, a smile creeping up on her lips as she stared down to Alora. 

"See that wasn't so hard was it?" 

"No mummy, you was right!" She smiled back

She took the plate off the little girl placing them with the rest of the pots that needed washing later. As she was organising dessert, the sound of little footsteps rushing back into the dining room echoed throughout the place. Giggling and laughing could be heard in the air as Alora and her father had gotten away with it, again. 

As the day drifted into night, Elizabeth ushered Alora to her bedroom, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting a comforting warmth. Alora, now in her pajamas, snuggled into the covers as her mother pulled up the cozy quilt.

"Have you checked for monsters under the bed?" She teased 

"No mummy can you check please?" She asked worryingly 

Elizabeth crouched down, playfully peering under the bed.

"Any monsters hiding here?" She asked with a grin

Alora lay in bed holding the covers up to her face.

"Is there?" She asked quietly 

Elizabeth smiled warmly at her daughter, stroking her face in comfort. 

"No dear, there's no monsters here tonight" 

Alora seemed to relax more now that her mother had confirmed there was nothing hiding under her bed. Elizabeth gently tucked her in, placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Good night my little angel, I love you"

"Good night mummy, I love you too"

With a reassuring smile, Elizabeth turned off the lamp, leaving the room in a soft glow of moonlight. As the door closed, the comforting presence of her mother lingered, casting away any lingering shadows as Alora drifted into a peaceful sleep.

————————————————

The next few weeks flew by, Sebastian and I had become closer, but not by much. I had to keep him at arms length as much as possible. It was now routine that he walked me to and from all my classes, and sat with me in the ones that we shared. Everyone in school had now seen us side by side together at some point, I did ask if he could give me some space for myself sometimes, it just got suffocating for me and I didn't want to get annoyed with him being constantly around me. I needed to put my study's first, luckily after a long talk, he agreed. I appreciated that he respected my wishes, but I could tell it was getting to a point now that I knew he wanted more from me. We hadn't shared an experience like we did in the library since, sometimes I'd hold his hand or we'd kiss.. but I never let it go any further. 

I'd gotten so caught up in classes and studying for my NEWTS, I'd completely forgotten to even look at the book I took from the restricted section. I decided tonight would be the night, Sebastian and Imelda were both at quidditch practise and Violet and Priscilla were both out with Noah and Ellis. Giving me the perfect opportunity to finally get some answers. I'd put the book in my bedside table drawer, along with the necklace for safe keeping. 

The evening came and I was finally alone. I sat on my bed rethinking the situation in my head, was this a good idea? I got up and grabbed the book and the necklace from my draw. Taking a deep breath, I cautiously opened the book before me, the weight of anticipation hung heavy in the air as I traced the ancient incantations with my fingertips, the cryptic symbols created an unsettling energy around me. Why did he have this? With each turn of the page, the darkness enveloped me, luring me in as I read through it.  There was some dark stuff in here, I was shocked it was even in the restricted section at all. Forbidden curses, summoning charms and rituals all laid before me in writing, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The more I read the more intrigued I was, I could feel myself becoming obsessed with each page as I read the scripture, this truly was dangerous. 

As I navigated my way through the book, I suddenly found myself on the enchantments section. 

"Mneme enchantment?" I whispered to myself 

Was this what I'd been looking for? I slowly read the instructions to myself, taking each word in carefully.

'As heartbeats echo, secrets take flight, In these artifacts, a sinister light. Unlock the past with a touch perverse, Memory's essence, this spell shall immerse.'

What in the world does that even mean? 

'You must speak the incantation 'Tene Memoria Mea' at the object you want to enchant.'

Seems easy enough?

'Will only work on certain relics or crystal's. Once you cast the spell, the inanimate object will have the ability to retain memory.'

"Surely not?" I gasped 

The flashback from my 16th birthday suddenly came to mind.

"That's incredible what did you enchant it with?"

"Let's just say it holds sentimental value"

I wore that necklace non stop after my birthday, it saw everything.

"Oh Merlin! That explains the engraving!" 

I quickly turned the necklace over to remind myself of what Sebastian had written. 

'The past beats inside me like a second heart
Love S.S'

I didn't know whether to be scared or impressed. Sebastian had actually found one of the certain crystals to be able to do this, or that he wrote something so beautiful on the back. I felt so stupid I had no idea what it even meant at the time! I had so many questions rotating around my mind, but two stuck out to me the most. How do I even unlock the memories it holds, and will this work on Sebastian? I carried on reading in hopes it'd explain more. 

'Unlocking the contents of what you enchant is a unique ritual. Begin by placing the crystal or relic under a full moon. Recite the incantation 'Reserare Mea Memorias' 3 times'

'As the spell begins to work, gently touch the object to the forehead of the person who wishes to see the memories. The object should then absorb and release the memories into the mind, showing or restoring them to the individual. Please be cautious, as manipulating memories can have consequences.'

"I-I can't believe it" I whispered to myself 

The realisation dawned upon me that I may now possess the ability to restore Sebastian's memories of us. A mix of emotions engulfed my mind. A surge of hope collided with the weight of responsibility. I carried on reading.

'Manipulating memories carries potential risks, such as unintended side effects or altering the individual's perception of reality. The intricate nature of memory means that interference could lead to confusion, emotional distress, or even unintended changes in personality'

A torrent of questions flooded my head. Could I navigate the restoration without the unintended consequences? What if Sebastian's concealed trauma and secrets were better left undisturbed?

'It's crucial to approach memory-related magic with great care and consideration, ensuring that the restoration process is done with respect for the person's mental well-being.'

I wanted him to remember us so badly, but the thought of him re-remembering what he'd done pained me. Was this a good idea? I sat on my bed stuck in my thoughts, I went back and forth with the idea of telling Sebastian for myself, but I needed to speak with Ominis first. I suddenly heard movement outside my dorm and quickly shut the book and shoved it in my drawer along with the necklace, sitting back on my bed as if I hadn't just unveiled the biggest secret ever. Imelda opened the door and walked into the room. 

"Hi Imelda! How was practice?" I smiled at her 

"Erm hey? Why are you so eager?" She questioned 

Shit I was coming off as eager, I needed to chill out. 

"I'm not I've just been bored! Studying for NEWTS has driven me mental" I laughed 

Imelda padded towards her bed slumping down on it, clearly exhausted from practice. 

"You're always studying these days girl you need a break" 

"I know I've had enough! Thank Merlin it's Friday tomorrow" 

The girl looked over to me as she spoke.

"It's Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw tomorrow are you coming?" She asked 

"Oh yeah I forgot about that"

"Gareth said we can go to his party when they win, I'm sure Sallow would want you to accompany him there too" she said teasingly 

The thought of another house party made me feel a bit nervous. If it was anything like the last one, I needed to be careful. 

"Yeah we'll probably be there then" I smiled 

"Okay well I'm going to go get a shower and get ready for bed!" 

The girl picked herself up and walked off to the girls bathroom, leaving me on my own once more. I got up off the bed to take another look at the book in my drawer, I jolted whilst opening it as 3 loud knocks were heard coming from my door.

"Shit" I whispered to myself 

"Alora it's me can I come in?" 

I walked over to the door opening it slowly, Sebastian stood in the frame still in his quidditch uniform. Strands of hair stuck to his face due to sweating, his cheeks flushed slightly, making his freckles more prominent. One arm was positioned on the frame of my door as he leant into it, he stood there looking down at me through hooded eyes. Fucking hell he looked good.

"What are you doing here?" I asked

"To see you obviously" a smirk playing on his lips 

He strolled forward, his hands finding themselves around my waist as he pulled me towards him. 

"I missed you" he said softly 

"You missed me so much you just couldn't take a shower first? …You look exhausted" 

"Yeah, Quidditch practice was quite intense. But seeing you is the perfect way to unwind" he chuckled running a hand through his damp hair

I couldn't help but stare at him, how did he always look so good no matter what? 

"Is that so?" I flirted slightly 

His hands then snaked around my waist once more as he pulled me in closer, his grip on me tight. His eyes darkened as leant in to meet his lips with mine. I parted my mouth slightly, allowing his tongue to slip past my lips. He groaned softly into my mouth, a mixture of lust and desire coursing through him. His hands then found themselves on my hips, pulling my body flush against his. He tightened his grip on me, thrusting his tongue deeper into my mouth. His hands then began roaming up my back, finding the soft flesh at the nape of my neck. My stomach tingled as he nibbled gently on my bottom lip before pulling away. 

"Where is everyone?" He questioned 

"Vi and Priscilla are with the boys and Imelda just went to get a shower" 

The boys eyes widened, that devilish smile appearing on his lips.

"Excellent" 

Before I knew it he was kissing me again, his lips meeting mine with a new found urgency as he pushed me up against the wall. He pressed his body against me, so close I could feel his hardness evident through his pants. His lips then left mine to trail kisses down my neck and collar bone. Meanwhile his hands explored my body under my shirt, sending shivers down my spine as he did so. A small gasp escaped my mouth as his sucked on my neck.

"Sebastian" I whispered 

A low growl came from him as he smiled onto my neck.

"My name sounds so good coming from your mouth darling”

His hand was then trailing slowly down my body. 

"Open those legs sweetheart" 

He placed his thigh in between my legs, causing them to now be open more. He kept his leg there as he sucked on my earlobe, his fingers crawling down to that sensitive spot. Before I completely lost myself, I quickly grabbed his hand pushing him back onto my bed. I don’t know what came over me in that moment, but felt like I owed him one. He did what I asked and gave me space, so now it was my turn to return the favour. The boy looked confused as he slowly sat down. 

“What are you doin-”

“Shhh, let me help you ..unwind” I whispered seductively placing a finger over his lips.

A wave of confidence washed over me as I knelt down in front of him. I’d never done anything like this before, but he made me feel so comfortable I was happy to offer him the act. His eyes widened as he watched me intently getting onto my knees. I placed a gentle kiss on his lips before I was releasing his member from his pants. 

My eyes widened as I took in the sight of it, he had definitely grown in all areas, I placed my hand around it, giving it long slow strokes. His breath hitched as he closed his eyes, allowing the pleasure to run through him. He began to grip the bed sheets tightly, trying to remain in control as I stroked his cock. I spat on my hand to act as lubricant for him, making it a more pleasurable experience. I gently picked up the pace, watching on as his hips bucked against my hand. He groaned deeply, his entire body tensing.  

“Is this okay?” I asked gently 

“Y-yes this is.. this is perfect” he moaned 

I smiled to myself at the praise, I was doing a good job at least. I decided to get more into it and leant down, licking the tip slowly. His body shuddered at the feeling. 

“Oh.. wow” 

I continued licking down his length and back up again, repeating the motion until it was covered in my saliva. I gently circled around the tip before I was taking his length in my mouth. I sucked on his cock, my tongue tasting every inch of it as I kept going with the up and down motion. His hands were then gripping onto my head as he pushed it down gently but with intent. He groaned loudly, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. His eyes slipped shut once more as he looked like he tried to focus on something, anything other than the incredible sensation of my mouth around him. 

“Alora... you're killing me..."

His comments fuelled my fire as I picked up the pace, his breathing became heavier as his eyes were now tightly shut. He bit down hard on his bottom lip trying to suppress the wave of pleasure that was about to overtake him. 

“Fuck, Alora..." he growled out, his voice low and raspy.

His hands then cupped my face as he lifted my head up making me stand up in front of him. I pushed his body back onto the bed, his eyes dark with lust as he looked up at me. A predatory smile spread across his face as I gently crawled on top of him, his chest was heaving up and down as he spoke with each ragged breath.

“Kiss me”

His hand then cupped my cheek as he pulled me down on top of him, crashing his lips onto mine at the same time. The kiss was filled with passion and hunger for one another, his lips felt soft and demanding as his tongue teased and explored my mouth. A slight shiver went down my spine as his hands slid up my back, gripping me lightly as he pulled me in closer to him. His other hand moved to cup my face once more, holding me still for a possessive kiss. 

I pulled away slightly, his fingertips trailed down my spine in a slow and sensual way as I spoke softly against his lips.

“Let me finish what I started” I smiled

Sebastian’s smirk turned into a full blown grin at my words. 

“Fuck… you’re driving me crazy” his voice rough with eagerness  

I took that as my green light and made my way back down his body, taking his length in my mouth once more. I placed one hand around the bottom of his shaft whilst I sucked up and down on his cock. I teased him, slowly licking it, my eyes locked onto Sebastian’s as I did so. His fingers intertwined with my hair, pulling on it gently as I continued pleasuring him. As I picked up speed, his hips began to buck against my mouth unconsciously, driving himself deeper into my warmth. His entire body now tense again with need as he tried to hold back. 

I carried on with the motion, his body now shuddering under the onslaught of pleasure. His grip on my hair tightened as he felt himself getting closer. 

“Alora… I'm close” he warned, his voice strained.

I kept going, determined to make him reach his climax. His breathing was so heavy by now, he was definitely almost there. I continued on as his hands were pushing my head down again.

“Ohhh fuck I’m gonna-”

All of a sudden the door to the dorm opened. I quickly stopped what I was doing and covered my face in pure embarrassment. Sebastian had never moved so quickly as he pulled his pants back up. Imelda was back from her shower. 

“Oh Merlin! You two make me fucking SICK!”

Chapter 19: Let the games begin

The Great Hall was complete chaos this morning. Everyone was excited for another quidditch match as Lucan Brattleby and his friends were seen eagerly scoping the whole room for people to place their bets. 

"Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw!"

"Get your bets in for today's game!" 

I sat at the Slytherin table with Sebastian and the rest of the group, trying to enjoy what was left of my breakfast.

"Oi Lucan! I'll put a bet on!" Ellis shouted down the table.

The 3rd year Gryffindor came scurrying through the crowd with his box of bets in hand for the boy. I'd never seen a bigger smile on his face before. 

"Who are you betting on today?" He asked 

"Put me on for Gryffindor to win mate" he smirked 

"Are you fucking serious?" Sebastian spat at him

"What? Have you seen them in training lately? I don't know what Weasley's been doing with them, but there is absolutely no way Ravenclaw is winning this match today. It's easy money lad" 

"They're literally our rivals!"

"Yeah, and? Money's money isn't it" he shrugged 

"Well.. I can't exactly argue with that I suppose. But I wouldn't be seen dead betting on Weasley, no offence Imelda" the boy smirked 

Imelda's eyes shot up from her plate as the boy mentioned her with the Gryffindor. 

"Fuck off Sallow!" she bit back

"Still mad at me I see?" He laughed

"Why, what happened between you two?" Violet questioned 

My face became warm, my cheeks flushed as the incident from last night replayed in my head. 

"Nothing happened!" I butt in

"Alora, one must not tell lies" Imelda spoke sarcastically 

The whole group looked at us both, intrigued to know what had happened. 

"Come on then, spill it!" Noah pushed

Imelda glanced around the table before she spoke. 

"Let's just say I wish I had Ominis' eyesight when I got back to the dorm last night"

The whole group burst out in laughter as I sat there sulking into my breakfast. How embarrassing! 

"So.. do you still want that bet Ellis?" 

Fucking hell I completely forgot Lucan was stood there, great could this get any worse?

"Yeah put me down for it please mate"

"Excellent, 10 Galleons please" 

The exchange was made and the Gryffindor quickly added him to the list, giving him a piece of paper as confirmation. 

"Nice one" he smiled at the young boy

Lucan then moved his attention to myself and Sebastian.

"Hey Alora, you should come back to crossed wands if you fancy it? I know a few people have missed seeing you there"

Oh fuck, my heart started racing as his words sunk into my brain. Sebastian had no idea we were partners in crossed wands or that I even joined the club back in fifth year! I hadn't been back since. 

"What do you mean? Back to crossed wan-"

"Crossed wands! Yeah absolutely, I haven't watched a duel in a while, I'll make sure I come down for the next one!" 

I don't think I've ever spoke a sentence so fast in my life. Lucan's expression changed to a more confused one as I word vomited over him. I held my breath as I sent him a pleading glare from behind Sebastian to hopefully not say anything else. 

"Uhh yeah, okay.. anyways I best be off, I'll see you guys at the match later, enjoy your day!"

I could finally breathe. Thank Merlin he left it at that. I looked down at the table and caught sight of Imelda staring down from the side of me, I quickly met her gaze as we shared a knowing look... This was now getting a lot harder for me.

————————————

The school day had finally come to an end and it was now time for the all anticipated quidditch match. I made a pit stop at my dorm to get changed out of my uniform into something more warmer. As I entered, I was greeted by Imelda, Violet and Priscilla all sat on their beds staring at me as if I'd just interrupted a private business meeting. 

"Umm girls?" I questioned 

"Alora! Come in and sit down" Imelda pushed 

"Okay?"

I awkwardly shut the door and walked over to my bed, as I got closer I noticed a maroon coloured jumper neatly folded up on my bed.

"What the fuck is this?" I asked 

"It's a jumper silly" Violet said cheerfully 

"I know it's a jumper I meant what is it doing on my bed?" 

I lifted the piece of clothing up, letting it unfold before me. As the material dropped a large gold letter 'G' was now in my view. I turned to Imelda immediately as I put two and two together and came up with five. 

"You've got to be joking me, right?" 

Violet and Priscilla started laughing hysterically as I held the jumper in my hands. 

"You're wearing it! We all are!" She demanded

"For someone who 'doesn't' like Gareth you're making a pretty big statement making us all wear this!" 

"Listen, I promised I'd support him and I didn't want to do it on my own, plus you owe me a favour after last night!" 

I hate to admit it, but I did feel like I owed her one after what she walked in on. 

"So we all have to support Gryffindor now whilst sat in the Slytherin stand? Do you want us to have a death wish?" I joked 

The two girls stopped laughing and looked at us both with a worried expression.

"Oh come on, it won't be that bad!" Imelda teased

"Not that bad? Do you really think Sebastian is going to allow me to wear this?" 

"Oh Merlin, Noah will probably be pissed off at me as well!" Violet added 

Imelda stared at us both, annoyance smeared across her face.

"So you let both of those idiots dictate what you can and can't wear now? Is that it?" 

"No, that's not it actually! But you all know what he's been like recently!" I snapped back

"All I'm hearing is excuses" 

"I'm not making up excuses!"

"Wear it then.. I dare you" she smiled cockily 

I knew full well this was going to get me an earful off Sebastian, but I wasn't one to back down from a challenge. I quickly put the jumper on and stood there confidently dripping in maroon and gold.

"Fine, let the games begin"

————————————

The four of us made our way to meet the boys in the Slytherin stand, I must admit we got some seriously concerning glances on our way up the steps. Apart from the moody looks we received, the excitement of the Quidditch match buzzed around us. The crisp autumn air was filled with anticipation as Gryffindor faced off against Ravenclaw. I could feel the energy pulsating through the crowd, but something else was brewing too. I brushed it off as I finally spotted the boys and headed for the spare seats next to them. 

"Come on girls keep up, they're just up here"

The three girls followed, not that it was hard for them to lose me. We were a drop of red in a sea of green and everyone made a point of it.  I could feel the weight of the eyes of other Slytherin students on me, their gazes ranging from curious to disapproving. It seemed our wardrobe choice had garnered more attention than I had anticipated.

"Shouldn't you be in the Gryffindor tower?"

"Get out of the Slytherin stand if you're supporting that lot!"

"Think you're in the wrong place ladies"

"You're brave entering the snake pit dressed like that"

Every comment was pissing me off even more than the last, I couldn't even say anything back to them because they were right, but I had a favour to uphold. I was silently bracing myself as we edged closer to the empty seats, I don't think I was ready to hear what Sebastian had to say about all of this.

"Finally, there you all are! What took you so long?" Ellis questioned unaware of the maroon jumpers eyeing him in the face

We all nervously took a seat next to them, waiting for the verbal abuse to start. 

"We.. errr, we just nipped back to the dorm real quick" Priscilla said, panic laced in her tone

As I settled into my seat amongst my friends, I was met with Sebastian's disapproving glare at my Gryffindor jumper. Shit, here we go. 

"What the FUCK are you wearing?!" He hissed, his voice tinged with annoyance as he eyed my jumper with disdain.

Sebastian, ever the embodiment of Slytherin pride, was practically fuming at the sight of me sporting the colours of our rivals.

"I'm just showing my support for Gryffindor?"

I grinned mischievously, knowing full well that my choice of attire was like poking a sleeping dragon. He got a good eyeful at the four of us as we all sat in our matching jumpers resembling a group of cheerleaders, he was anything but happy about it. 

"Look at the state of you all! Noah, Ellis look at these lot!" He scoffed, nudging his friends 

The two boys turned around properly examining us girls. I felt like we were on trial for committing a fashion crime. Thanks a lot, Imelda.

"What in Merlin's name!" 

"Why are you dressed like that?"

"Oh shut up all of you! We're supporting Gareth for crying out loud, stop being a bunch of cretins" Imelda spat

"The lot of you are unbelievable" Sebastian grumbled audibly 

Trying to diffuse the tension with a playful smile, I nudged the angry Slytherin next to me.

"Come on Seb, lighten up"

The boy said nothing but rolled his eyes at my words.

"It's just a bit of fun. Besides, it's not like I'm going to start cheering for Gryffindor anytime soon." I laughed 

"You're lucky we're outside, because if not I'd of ripped the bloody thing off you" he muttered 

"There's a time and a place for that don't you think Sallow?" Ellis chuckled 

"Piss off Cooper, she knew what I meant" he muttered, though I could detect a hint of amusement beneath his irritation.

Before we knew it the match progressed, tensions ran high as Gryffindor and Ravenclaw battled fiercely for supremacy on their brooms. Gareth was seen soaring through the air, managing his players with ease. Maybe Ellis was right? He was doing well with his team. Chanting and cheers erupted from the stands with each daring move and near miss. Gryffindor were doing good out there, but Ravenclaw weren't backing down as easy as everyone thought. It was a close call for sure but as the final whistle blew, Gryffindor emerged victorious having caught the golden snitch first. The stadium erupted into a deafening roar of triumph as everyone celebrated the lions first win of the season. 

"I fucking knew it! 50 Galleons to me!" Ellis stood up in excitement 

"Will you sit back down? You just got lucky!" Sebastian said in annoyance

"I'm telling you Sallow, Weasley is one to watch this year. He's going to make me rich the way he's going!" He cheered 

Gareth and his team did a lap of the pitch in celebration before he was stopping in front of the Slytherin stand, staring at Imelda with a devious grin on his face. 

"Looks like we're partying in the Gryffindor tower tonight girls" Imelda said amusingly 

"At least we'll get let in, now that he's seen us supporting him" Priscilla added 

The boys all looked at us in unison as Priscilla made her comment. 

"If you think you're all going there without us, you've got another thing coming" Noah said cockily 

Sebastian put his hand on his friend's shoulder in agreement as he spoke. 

"Couldn't have put it better myself, mate" 

The boy then stood up holding his hand out to me.

"Come on then, looks like we've got a Gryffindor party to attend" 

————————————

Back in the dorm I sat on my bed, surrounded by the girls getting ready for the evening ahead. The excitement for the Gryffindor party pulsated through the room. Priscilla with her keen eye for fashion was already flipping through her wardrobe, pulling out dresses and holding them up to me.

"Alora, what about this one? It would look stunning on you!" she said, holding up a deep crimson dress

I smiled gratefully at her, she was once again letting me lend another one of her dresses. I really appreciated the gesture, but I desperately needed to go dress shopping for myself at some point. Despite the chaos happening in the room, my mind was honestly elsewhere. I sat there contemplating a decision that had been weighing on me all afternoon, should I wear the necklace tonight? Violet was then interrupting my thoughts completely, waving a sparkly blue dress in front of me. 

"Or how about this one? It matches your eyes perfectly!" She squealed 

I nodded absentmindedly, not really seeing the dresses they were holding up anymore. Noticing my distraction, Priscilla tilted her head In curiosity. 

"Alora? You seem a million miles away"

Her words snapped me out of my trance and brought me back to the room. 

"What? Oh, sorry I was just thinking of what accessories to wear" 

"What did you have in mind?" 

I was dubious to respond, but what harm was I doing wearing it anyway?

"I have this necklace I haven't worn in a while, but it has sentimental value"

"You have to show us!" Violet chimed in 

"Okay, fine" 

I walked over to my bedside table and took out the necklace from the drawer. I hesitated at first, my fingers tightening around the delicate chain. Imelda caught sight of me fidgeting with the necklace in my hands. 

"Wait.. isn't that?"

I quickly turned around to face the three girls, the necklace now clenched into the palm of my hand. After a moment of internal debate, I took a deep breath before slowly opening my hand to reveal the piece of jewellery. 

"Yes" 

The girls eyes widened in awe at the sight of it. 

"I haven't seen that in ages! I thought you lost it?" Imelda questioned 

"So did I, but I recently found it.. I thought I could wear it tonight" 

"It's beautiful Alora! Where did you get it?" Priscilla asked

Again I was hesitant to respond, but I didn't feel like lying to the girl. 

"Sebastian gave it to me as a gift for my 16th birthday" 

"WHAT! He was giving gifts like that at 16? That's wild, I never knew he was the type!" She joked 

"Awww! I bet he'll be made up you're wearing it tonight after so long!" Violet expressed 

I smiled at the both of them not saying anything else, little did they know he has no idea he even gave it to me, or that he even knew me at all. Imelda could sense I was feeling a little anxious about the whole situation, she came to my aid and changed the topic before it became too much. 

"Come on, I'll help you put it on"

She took the necklace off me and placed it around my neck, fastening the clasp. I felt the weight of it against my skin and within an instant I felt a surge of something wash over me. My eyes closed and my ears started ringing, another flashback played in my mind. 

"I want to learn the curse, but I won't cast it on you, you have to cast it on me"

"I shan't forget this.. ready?"

"I'm ready"

"CRUCIO!" 

Imelda's voice broke through the chaos, pulling me back from the brink of my memories.

"Alora, are you okay?"

I gasped for air, my heart racing as I struggled to find my bearings.

"Y-yes, I'm okay" I managed to stammer 

Imelda's brow furrowed with concern as she studied me, her eyes searching mine for answers.

"Are you sure? You seem shaken" 

I forced a reassuring smile, hoping to deflect her worry.

"It's nothing, really. Just got lost in thought for a moment."

The girl touched my arm trying to somewhat comfort me.

"Alright, as long as you're sure"

Noticing a shift in the atmosphere, Priscilla reminded us what we were even doing in the first place. She smiled warmly at me as she held my hand, walking me over to the wardrobe.

"Come on, we best finish off getting ready.. I think we all deserve a drink tonight"

————————————

With my friends already gone for the party, I stood in front of the mirror adjusting the fabric of my dress. I couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement mixed with a twinge of nervousness. Tonight felt like a special night for some reason, I couldn't shake the feeling something was going to happen. I glanced down at the necklace adorning my neck, it was absolutely beautiful to say the least and went perfectly with the dress I'd borrowed from Priscilla. This was the first time I'd worn it properly since fifth year and I was feeling apprehensive about it. 

Just as I finished fixing my hair, there was a knock on the door. I smiled as I opened it to find Sebastian standing there, looking as handsome as ever.

"Hello, you" he flirted with a devilish grin

His eyes lingered up and down my body as he appreciated my attire for the evening.

"You look absolutely stunning Alora"

Merlin he was smooth, I felt a warmth spread through me at his compliment.

"Thank you Sebastian" I smiled 

"You don't look too bad yourself" 

The boy studied my chest for a moment, he had a look on his face that I couldn't quite understand. Shit! Did he recognise the necklace? I panicked a little as his eyes still remained on the piece of jewellery. 

"Is everything okay?" I questioned nervously 

Sebastian's face met mine. He smiled at me, his eyes filled with admiration.

"Yeah, that's a nice necklace you got there. It looks perfect on you" 

I felt a pang of guilt at his words, knowing that he had no memory of giving it to me. 

"Oh, thank you" I replied softly 

I forced a smile as I tried to push away the conflicting emotions swirling inside me. Oblivious to my feelings he chuckled, stepping closer to me. His arms then found themselves around my waist as he pulled me into him with ease, crashing his lips onto mine for a possessive kiss. A few seconds had passed and I felt a small vibration coming from my chest, I broke the kiss looking down to notice the necklace was glowing. Sebastian caught sight of it as well, what the hell was going on?

"It glows too? Wow what type of gemstone even is that?" He asked curiously

Fuck, this boy was going to give me a panic attack soon I swear. Maybe wearing this was a bad idea? My breath hitched as I tried to brush off the question. 

"I-i'm not sure actually, I got it from a vendor in lower Hogsfield. She didn't really tell me much about it, I just thought it looked nice" I smiled innocently 

His gaze returned to the pendant for a moment as I spoke.

"Well it's lovely, you should wear it more often! Are you ready to go now?" He asked, offering me his arm.

"I'm ready" I smiled

I linked my arm with his, I felt a rush of excitement as we made our way out of the Slytherin common room and towards the Gryffindor party. As we walked, Sebastian kept up a steady stream of conversation, his words laced with flirtatious undertones. I had a feeling tonight was going to be unforgettable. 

We finally reached the Fat Lady's portrait, obviously Sebastian knew the password to get us inside. That boy could get where water couldn't. The portrait opened and we entered the room, the lively atmosphere hit us like a wave. The house was filled with students laughing, dancing, drinking and smoking, all caught up in the euphoria of their recent victory. The music was loud, the air electric with excitement. Sebastian's hand tightened around mine possessively as he scanned the crowd, his eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of other students glancing in my direction. 

"Looks like everyone's here" He remarked, his tone tinged with a hint of jealousy.

I squeezed his hand reassuringly, trying to ease his tension.

"Let's just enjoy the party"

He guided me through the busy crowd towards the drinks table, goblets filled with mead, butterbeer, and Gareth’s concoctions were laid out across the surface as well as glasses of fire whiskey. 

“What would you like to drink?” Sebastian asked me

I thought about it for a moment, remembering how drunk I got last time off the drink Gareth made me, and decided I better play it safe for now. 

“I’ll have a butterbeer please” 

He grabbed me a cold goblet of butterbeer whilst picking up and glass of fire whiskey for himself. He smiled at me as he raised his glass to mine.

“Cheers” 

“What are we cheering for?”

A devilish smile played on his lips as he drunk me in through hooded eyes. His tone seductive as he spoke.

“To a night to remember” 

Our glasses clinked before we were taking a sip of our drinks. Sebastian then grabbed my hand and walked us back into the dance floor to meet our friends. Inside the crowd I could see Priscilla and Violet were wrapped around Ellis and Noah whilst Imelda stood watching Gareth and his team mates dancing together like idiots. 

“Finally there you both are, have you seen the state of him?” She gestured towards Gareth

“I’ve never seen him so happy” I giggled 

Sebastian rolled his eyes at the sight of them all, a small smirk playing on his lips in amusement. I had to admit it was quite entertaining to watch. The night carried on and Sebastian had joined Noah and Ellis in a debate over quidditch whilst me and the girls shared a few dances, singing our hearts out to each other. I was having such a good time, the butterbeer had kicked in and my confidence had boosted, just what I needed. 

“Oh Merlin, I can’t even look at him anymore” Imelda groaned 

I glanced over my shoulder to see Gareth now doing some form of robot in the middle of the floor, his friends surrounded him in a circle as they cheered him on. The red head started body popping and locking in front of everyone, I was either drunk or he was actually pretty good at it. The song then changed and within a blink of an eye, the boy had marched over to us pulling Imelda into him by her hands. 

“Come on! Dance with me!” He laughed 

Imelda’s cheeks blushed pink as he tried to move her to the centre of the dance floor. 

“Gareth stop! I’m not dancing with you” she replied, her tone nervous but firm

The boys face sunk a little, he dropped her hands before he was moving onto me. 

“Fine, Alora will dance with me won’t you!”

Before I could protest, his hand was lifting my arm and spinning me around in circles, I couldn’t help but let out a giggle at the unexpected action. 

“Okay I’ll dance with you Weasley!” I laughed 

“There she isss!” He chuckled 

He spun me around once more before he was pulling me into him. We swayed to the rhythm of the music, Gareth’s hand firmly clasped in mine, his other hand held onto my waist for support. I couldn’t stop giggling as we basically ballroom danced across the floor like fools. I caught sight of Imelda smirking, trying to hold in a laugh at the sight of us. 

“Now on three twirl out and back in okay?” 

“When did you become a dance instructor?” I snorted 

The boys grin widened at my comment, he was absolutely loving this. But to be honest, so was I

“Just Shutup and listen to me!” He demanded

“Fine!” 

“One, two, three… go!” 

As instructed, I let go of Gareth’s shoulder and spun out. As I fully unraveled away from him, my other arm was then being grabbed. I looked up and my eyes met with a pissed off Sebastian Sallow. He pulled my arm harder so I was no longer in contact with the Gryffindor, and drew me into him. 

“Let me show you how it’s really done, shall I?” 

“Sebastian what are you doing?”  

The boy grabbed my waist harder, our bodies now inches apart. His face moved closer to me as he whispered on my lips.

“I couldn’t stand seeing you dance with someone else” he confessed, his voice low and husky

“Especially when I know I can dance better than him” 

“Sebastian you can’t just-”

But my words were cut short as he spun me around effortlessly, his movements fluid and graceful. Despite myself, I couldn’t help but be swept away by the rhythm of the music, the heat of Sebastian’s body pressing against mine. His scent that I loved so much filled my nose, drawing me in deeper as we moved in perfect synchrony. I couldn’t shake the feeling of being consumed by his presence, it felt like a whirlwind of passion and desire. 

Our movements were becoming more sensual, Sebastian’s hands were now roaming up and down my body, feeling every inch of me. My arms were wrapped around his neck as he felt all my curves, grabbing my arse every now and then. My stomach was fluttering, I was practically grinding on him as we were growing more obsessed with touching each other.

“Oh, and don’t even think about dancing with another boy ever again, unless it’s me” he said firmly 

“Why? Jealous?” I teased 

His smile widened at my playfulness before he was speaking on my lips once more. 

“You know I don’t like other people touching what’s mine, Alora” 

His hand then cupped my face as he brought me in for a kiss. I parted my lips letting him explore my mouth, the taste of fire whiskey lacing my tongue. His other arm snaked around my waist pulling me in closer, our breaths became heavier as we lost ourselves within one another. A few moments passed before Sebastian was leading me off the dance floor, away from everyone. 

“Where are we going?” I questioned breathlessly 

“Away from prying eyes”

He found a secluded area outside the common room and lightly pushed me up against the wall. His eyes darkened, staring at me through hooded eyes. Pools of velvety chocolate seeped through my soul as he drunk me in, his hand gently held my throat as he whispered softly into my ear.

“I’ve waited so long to have you” 

I lost my train of thought as he sucked on my earlobe. My breath hitched whilst he planted kisses down my neck. Focus Alora! What is he asking you? 

“W-what?” Was all I managed to speak 

“I know we haven’t done it yet, but can I please have you now?” 

Fucking hell, he was asking exactly what I thought he was. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to have him as well. I quickly weighed up my options in my head, I always wanted to do it with someone I cared about, and if I wanted to do it with anyone, I’d want it to be with him. Ultimately, I did feel like I was ready for this. 

This was it.. I was finally going to lose my virginity. 

“Yes”

Chapter 20: Scratches down your back

Notes:

Smut warning

I finally agreed to take our relationship to the next level. Barely able to believe the words coming out of my mouth, I felt a surge of emotions wash over me. I had never been with anyone before, He had been dropping hints for weeks, and tonight I felt like I was ready. There was something about him that made me want to take this leap of faith. His face lit up breaking into a wide grin, his hands lingering down my body.

"You mean it?" 

"Yes, I want this too"

His hand brushed against my cheek gently, sending shivers down my spine. 

"I'll make it special for you, I promise" he whispered against my lips 

"Okay, I'm ready" I smiled 

Sebastian was then taking my hand once more to take us somewhere more private. I couldn't shake the nervous excitement coursing through my veins. He led the way down a dimly lit corridor, his steps confident and purposeful. I tried to match his pace, but my heart was pounding so loudly in my chest that I could barely hear anything else.

"Where are we going?" I finally managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Sebastian glanced back at me, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. 

"It's a surprise" he replied, his lips curving into a devilish smile.

I couldn't help but smile back, my curiosity piqued. I trusted Sebastian completely, but the unknown always had a way of making me feel a little uneasy. As we continued down the corridor, the air seemed to crackle with anticipation. Where was he taking me? Finally, we reached a door at the end of the hallway. Sebastian pushed it open slightly, half revealing a cozy dorm room bathed in soft lamplight.

"We're here"  Sebastian said with a grin

I tried to walk forward but was suddenly stopped in my tracks. 

"Wait! Close your eyes" 

"Why?" 

"Just trust me" 

I exhaled deeply before I was closing my eyes in front of the boy. 

"Fine, my eyes are closed" 

"Keep them shut until I say so" 

As my eyes were shut I could hear Sebastian go into the room, I heard him cast a few spells quietly to himself and some movement noises. What was he doing? Before I knew it the boy was coming back out to me. 

"Okay, now you can open your eyes" 

I opened my eyes and stepped inside. Sebastian closed the door behind us, enveloping us in a cocoon of privacy. He took a step closer to me, his gaze intense as he reached out to cup my cheek. 

"I know it isn't ideal, but it's the best I could do on such short notice" a small smile played on his face 

I looked around and took sight of 4 neatly made beds, but only one was covered in rose petals. There was a stack of books on a desk to the right and posters adorning the walls. Candles were lit all across the room, making it feel more romantic than your average male dorm room. It wasn't quite exactly how I pictured my first time, but I appreciated Sebastian's gesture of trying to make it more romantic. I tried to hide the smirk that was appearing on my lips.

"You really know how to woo a girl, don't you Seb?" I chuckled 

"Well, you deserve the best obviously!" Sarcasm laced in his tone

"Don't worry, It's perfect" I breathed, feeling a warmth spread through me at the thought of being here with him

"I wanted tonight to be as special as possible for you, Alora" he said softly.

I felt a lump form in my throat as I took in the romantic gesture he had made just for us. The soft lighting, the intimate atmosphere, it was more than I could have ever hoped for considering the circumstances. Nevertheless, I was just happy to be here with him. Nothing else really mattered to me right now. 

"Thank you, Sebastian" I whispered, my voice filled with emotion

"Oh and one more thing!" 

Confused I stared at him, with a flick of his wand the lamplight turned off leaving us in just the flicker of candlelight, and music started to play quietly. 

'The night will hold us close and the stars will guide us home'

"Seriously?" I giggled 

'I've been waiting for this moment, we're finally alone'

"Just trying to set the mood" he smirked 

'I turn to ask the question, so anxious, my thoughts'  

He pulled me into his arms, holding me close as if he never wanted to let go. And as we stood there, wrapped up in each other's embrace, I knew that tonight would be a night I would never forget. 

'Your lips were soft like winter, in your passion, I was lost'

"I'll take good care of you, I promise" he whispered 

"I trust you Sebastian" I whispered back

He then pulled me into a deep kiss as his hands explored my body once more. It was a moment of pure bliss, as if the entire world had faded away, leaving only the two of us in our own private paradise. Wrapped in each other's embrace, we surrendered to the passion that consumed us, lost in the intoxicating ecstasy of our kiss. Sebastian then guided me over to the bed with the rose petals on, and pushed me down gently. 

As I sat on the bed he stood in front of me, slowly removing his shirt. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, even in candlelight seeing his bare chest and torso gave me butterflies, He was perfect. He was then leaning down towards me, capturing his lips with mine once more. I melted into him and as he felt my response, he broke the kiss and began to undress me slowly, savoring every moment. 

His hands were gentle yet insistent as they pulled off my shirt and skirt, leaving me in nothing but my underwear. My cheeks flushed as I'd never been this vulnerable in front of a boy before. Noticing my hesitation, Sebastian smiled at me, his eyes filled with heat and desire. His hands then began softly running down my sides. 

"Relax your body is perfect Alora.. you are perfect" he whispered gently 

His comments made me feel more at ease, I felt myself begin to calm down a bit as he caressed my body.

"Sorry, I'm a little nervous" I whispered quietly 

"We don't have to do this if you're not ready, I don't want to force you into anything" he replied softly 

My heart swelled as he gave me an option to stop what we were doing, but I didn't want to stop. I knew I was ready to give myself to him fully.

"No, I promise I want this just as much as you"

Sebastian smiled reassuringly. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he kissed me softly, his fingers trailing lightly over my skin.

"Good girl, don't worry i've got you.. we'll just take it nice and slow, alright?

"Okay" I breathed deeply 

He began to slowly unclasp my bra, pulling the straps on my shoulders down the length of my arms. He dropped the piece of lingerie on the floor, revealing my breasts for the first time. My breath hitched and Sebastian's eyes widened at the sight of them. 

"They're even more beautiful than I imagined" 

"R-really?" 

"Absolutely" he reassured 

I was now sat in front of Sebastian, both of us bare chested. Our bodies gently illuminated by the soft glow of the room. He leant down once more, kissing my neck then making a trail to my breasts. He knelt down in front of me, then took one of my nipples into his mouth and gently started sucking on it. 

My breathing became heavier as I felt his tongue around my areola. My hand made its way to the back of his head, gently pulling on his hair as he sucked on my nipple. His other hand then grabbed onto my other breast, squeezing it softly. My head tilted back as he did so, I didn't think this would feel as good as it did, but I was enjoying it a lot. 

A small moan escaped my lips as he nibbled and licked on my nipples. He alternated from one to the other, making sure both breasts had equal pleasure. As if mirroring my sounds, he moaned around my nipple. His hand was then sliding down my stomach, edging toward that sacred spot. His fingers played with the strap of my thong, pulling on it intently. His other hand then made its way down my body as he began to rub my thighs. 

It felt like electricity surged through my body with every touch, my stomach was doing flips as his hands explored my inner thighs. I could feel myself pulsating through my underwear. His touches were so gentle, it was sending my head spiralling. I felt like a blank canvas and he was the artist, ready to create a piece of work on my body. 

His hands pushed both of my thighs apart, leaving me wide open for himself. His fingers trailed the inside of my thigh until he was softly rubbing on my clit through my thong. A moment later he was moving the fabric to the side, he gently pressed his fingers against my entrance, teasingly tracing circles around it before slowly sliding one inside.

"You're so wet for me already" his voice filled with desire

I hate to admit it but I was wet for him, probably more than I should have been at this stage. But I couldn't help it, everything he was doing to me was turning me on so much, could you really blame me? I plucked up the courage to brush it off and just reply with as much confidence as possible. 

"Am I?" I flirted 

"Mhmm I love it" 

He then began to thrust his finger in and out of my pussy, his eyes darkened as he watched me squirm beneath him.  

"Does that feel good, darling?" 

He knew damn well it felt good. 

"Yes, it feels good" I moaned

He then added a second finger, stretching me out slightly wider. The pleasure increased as he moved his fingers inside me. The more he did it, the more I was becoming undone. His fingers danced along my clit, teasing me effortlessly before plunging back inside my wet, now dripping pussy. He started thrusting harder and faster, feeling my wetness splatter against his hand. Our faces eventually met as he looked up at me, a pleading look in his eyes. 

"Can I taste you?" 

My eyes widened at his question, this was also something new to me. I was a bit apprehensive but he assured me it would be fine. 

"I'll be soft I swear" 

"Yes, okay" 

With a wicked glint in his eye, he slowly slid my thong off, putting it on the floor with my bra. I was now fully naked before him, I was the most vulnerable I'd ever been with anyone in my life, but I felt at ease because I was with him. 

"You're doing great, just let me take care of you" he whispered 

He gently pushed my body down so I was now laid back on the bed, he placed both his hands underneath my thighs to keep them in place. A seductive smile curled up on his lips as he took in the sight of my pussy, glistening with anticipation. 

The next thing I felt was his tongue swirling around my clit, he licked it and sucked on it, making me shudder underneath him. He ran his tongue along my sensitive folds, lapping up every drop of my juices. His fingers teased my entrance, pushing inside just enough to make me arch my back in pleasure. He had me whimpering like a puppy as he continued to lick and finger me at the same time. 

"Oh fuck Seb" I moaned 

Sebastian smiled against my pussy as my moans filled the room, becoming more and more frequent. 

"That's it sweetheart, feel my fingers inside you"

My breaths became heavier, I was basically panting for the boy as he edged me closer. 

"Keep going!" I yelled 

"Ah, ah, ahhh, you'll cum when I want you to cum"

Sebastian smirked before pulling away suddenly, leaving me breathless and wanting more. Why would he torture me like this! He then climbed onto the bed, slowly positioning himself between my legs. He pulled down his pants, revealing his hard cock and placing it at my entrance.

"Are you ready for me, darling?"

I'd never felt like this in my life, I wanted him inside me more than anything. I felt addicted to him, my body longed for his touch like he was some sort of drug to me. I was screaming internally, this was really about to happen.. I was about to have sex with Sebastian Sallow.

"I'm more than ready for you" I smirked 

The boy gave me a reassuring smile before kissing me again. He then guided his erection into my wetness, taking it slow and gentle so as not to overwhelm me. He wasn't even half way through before he let out his first moan.

"Holy fuck Alora" 

It was a bit of a tight squeeze, but surely it wasn't that bad? My cheeks rose pink as Sebastian's breath hitched, did it feel good? My question was soon answered as a low growl escaped his mouth.

"Ugh you're so fucking tight, you are fucking joking with me!"

A smile curled up on my lips as I watched him try to control himself on top of me. Our eyes suddenly met as he looked back down at me, watching my reactions intently. He moved slowly inside of me, letting me get used to the feeling. His hands slid their way down my sides softly.

"It's alright, I'm okay" I breathed 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes I'm sure" 

He took that as his green light. His movements became more confident, matching my rising desire. His hands gripped onto my hips firmly as he started to move faster and harder inside of me. he slammed his hips forward, driving his cock deep into me. I could feel him hitting the walls of my pussy with every thrust, making me moan in pleasure.

"Oh fuck Seb!" I panted 

"Do you like that?" 

"Y-yes!"

"You're being such a good girl for me, you're taking my cock so well" he praised with a satisfied smirk on his face 

I couldn't even think straight as he continued to fuck me. The feeling was indescribable, no wonder people loved doing this so much, I've never felt this good! Our moans filled the room adding to the perverse symphony of pleasure. Sebastian was then capturing my lips once more in a rough, demanding kiss. I moaned into it, making him pick up the pace. My hands made their way to his back, my nails digging into his skin scratching it as he kept going. 

"Sebastian" I moaned into the air 

His cock was then diving deeper into me with each brutal thrust. His lips left mine to travel down my neck, leaving kisses and hot breath along the way.

"I fucking love it when you say my name" he growled 

A devilish smirk played on my lips as I watched the boy become more unhinged at my words. This was a side I'd never seen in him before, and I was loving it. 

"Can I take you from behind?" He questioned playfully 

Before I had chance to reply, he pulled out of me, his cock slick with my juices. With one swift move he turned me around roughly, pushing me down onto my hands and knees so I was on all fours. Without warning, he slammed back into me from behind, filling me up once more. I was a bit taken back but I didn't mind, it felt too good to care. He gripped onto my hips once more whilst thrusting himself into me, as if claiming me for his own. He began grabbing and slapping my arse every now and then, appreciating my curves.

"Your arse is so fucking big"

His comment made me giggle, I didn't think it was anything special, but I guess my body had changed a lot in the past few years. 

"Do you like it?" I flirted 

"I love it, now give me that neck"

His hands wrapped around my hair as he pulled on it gently, making me jolt my head backwards. He tugged on it positioning me closer to him so he could capture my neck with his mouth. He bit into the skin of my neck, not enough to hurt, but I would definitely have a bruise there in the morning. As if fuelled by passion, he began sucking and kissing it, sending shivers down my spine. The boy had me under his spell and I wasn't getting out of it anytime soon. 

"I've wanted to do this for so long" he panted breathlessly 

"So have I" 

His hands in my hair again, he pulled on it, using it to direct my movements as he continued to fuck me from behind. Our moans filled the room, echoing off the walls as my body quivered under his relentless assault. I think his words of 'nice and slow' got lost in translation at this point, but I couldn't deny the thrill it was making me feel. Every time he touched me it filled me with adrenaline, I wanted more.. I needed more. 

"Get on top of me" he demanded 

"What?" 

"You heard me, get on top of me" 

Sebastian positioned himself on the bed so he was now lying down. He grabbed my hips once more, placing myself onto him. He did it with such ease I forgot how strong he was now. I could feel his cock throbbing beneath me, he looked up into my eyes, his expression filled with lust and desire.

“Is this okay?” I asked 

“Yes.. good girl” 

I began to rock my hips on top of him, starting off slow so I could get into a good rhythm. Sebastian’s eyes began to roll to the back of his head, I must have been doing something right. 

“Good fucking girl”

“Do you like it when I do this?” 

His hands grabbed my hips as I started to pick up the pace. He began to thrust upwards, meeting my downward strokes with equal force. Our bodies collided in a rhythmic dance of passion as we lost ourselves in each other.

“Ride my fucking cock… there you go”

“Oh Sebastian!” I moaned

“Good fucking girl!” He growled 

His hand then found its way onto my neck. He grabbed onto it lightly, squeezing it as he watched me ride him with a primal hunger across his face. I gripped onto his shoulders tightly, our bodies moving in sync as I met his every thrust with my own. My breathing became heavier as my hips continued moving erratically, I was getting closer to climaxing. 

“Seb I think I’m gonna..”

“You’re going to what?” 

“I’M GOING TO CUM!” I practically yelled 

Sebastian’s face darkened, his arms wrapped around my body as he pulled me in tightly. He thrusted into me with a new found ferocity and speed, claiming me completely. I could feel myself tightening around him as he pounded into me. I couldn’t take it anymore, my body felt like ecstasy as he hit the spot repeatedly. 

“That’s it baby cum for me, I want to feel your cum on my cock” 

“SEBASTIAN!” 

“Oh fuck Alora!”

He let out a guttural groan, feeling his own orgasm building within him. He tightened his grip on my hips, thrusting harder as he pushed us both over the edge. 

“FUCK!”

With a loud cry, Sebastian came inside me. His body convulsed as he released himself into me. He continued to pump his hips, driving every last drop of cum deep into me. My heart was racing, my whole body was sweating, I was completely out of breath, but that was bloody amazing. Sebastian’s face became warmer as he looked up at me lovingly, a cheeky smile curling on his lips.

“How was that?” He chuckled 

My cheeks blushed pink, I suddenly felt a bit shy at his question. 

“Well, I’m certainly not a virgin anymore” I giggled softly 

“I could get used to that” he smirked 

We shared a little moment before I removed myself from him. We both cleaned ourselves up, making ourselves more presentable and met back in the bed for a cuddle. I think it’s safe to say we were both exhausted after that performance, but I wouldn’t change it for the world, It was perfect. Sebastian’s gaze met mine as he stared at me tenderly. He moved a strand of my hair behind my ear, cupping the side of my face.

“I really enjoyed that” he whispered seductively on my lips 

“So did I” I whispered back 

He pulled me into a warm embrace, resting his chin on top of my head. I absentmindedly looked around the room as I relaxed in Sebastian’s arms. The candles still flickered, creating a relaxing ambiance, I was so comfortable I could just fall asleep right here. I silently thanked Merlin that no one came back whilst we were going at it, I couldn’t deal with another Imelda situation so soon. 

“We’ll have to put this room back to how it was before someone comes back” I spoke tiredly 

“I wouldn’t worry about that right now Alora” Sebastian brushed off 

I turned over so the boy was now spooning me from behind. I idly began looking at my surroundings when I noticed a photo frame stood on the bedside table. The photo seemed to be of a group of people all different heights and ages.. like a family photo. Who was that? I squinted my eyes, focusing more on the photo in front of me. My vision became clearer as I fixated on the picture, my heart soon dropped and realisation had kicked in. The Weasley family were staring right back at me. 

“Did you fuck me in Gareth’s bed?!” 

Chapter 21: Confessions

"I don't know what you're talking about?" he replied, a smug expression plastered on his face

As annoyed as it made me, I couldn't keep the smile from creeping up on my lips.

"Sebastian Sallow, do not lie to me!"  

"This may or may not be Weasley's room" he spoke quickly 

I reached over and grabbed the picture from the bedside table. I turned over and shoved it in his face, pointing out who was in it.

"And that 'may or may not be' the entire Weasley family! Who else would keep this next to where they sleep? This is his bloody bed!" 

Sebastian let out a loud sigh before retreating from the argument. 

"OKAY FINE, you got me! It's fucking Weasley's bed alright?"

"Sebastian I can't believe you! We need to get out of here right now!" 

I immediately got up leaving the brown haired boy in the bed. He watched me intently as I shamefully tried to put my clothes back on as fast as possible. 

"Oh come on don't be like that, we were having such a nice cuddle!" He chuckled 

I tried to keep my composure, I really did see the funny side. But Gareth was my friend and I felt awful about it. 

"I'm glad one of us finds this funny"

"Hilarious actually" he smirked 

"why would you even bring me here to do what we did in his bed?" 

Sebastian got out from under the sheets and stood up, my eyes lingered on his perfectly shaped chest and chiseled abs a little too much. He looked so damn good, it was so hard for me to keep a stern face when he so effortlessly looked like that.

"Because"  

He walked closer to me, now inches apart. His arms snaked around my waist pulling me in closer. He stared down at me with two pools of honey, drowning me as I looked up at him.

"Because what?" 

A devilish smile appeared on his mouth, his voice  low and husky as he whispered slowly to me.

"Because no one dances with my girl, and gets away with it"

I couldn't keep it in any longer, a loud snort slipped out of me as I failed miserably to hold in my laughter. 

"You're literally impossible Sebastian!"

"Well at least I make you laugh" he smiled innocently 

He was right, he did make me laugh. I loved that about him, we shared a short kiss before finishing off getting ready to leave the room. Whilst Sebastian got rid of all evidence of us ever being there, I silently waited for him. I still couldn't believe I was no longer a virgin, I finally had sex, even if it was in Gareth's bed. 

"He can't find out about this you know" 

"Why not?" 

"Because he's my friend! It's terrible what we've done" I exclaimed 

"Will you calm down he won't find out. Everything is back the way it was now anyways. It was like we were never here" 

I exhaled deeply, turning towards the door. I was hoping and praying we wouldn't bump into him once we left. 

"Okay come on let's go back to the party"

Before I could get to the door Sebastian grabbed my hand, bringing me to a halt.

"Hey, wait a sec" 

I turned to face him, slightly confused why he'd stopped me. 

"What is it?"

His face flushed pink, he looked slightly nervous about what he was going to say. 

"Well uhh, we just had sex"

"Yes, and?" 

The boys brows furrowed, giving me a concerned look.

"Unprotected sex..."

OH FUCK! How could I be so bloody stupid! My breath hitched and my pulse raised, what the fuck was I supposed to do!

"R-right, umm"

Noticing my worry, Sebastian grabbed both of my hands. He rubbed them softly trying his best to comfort me. 

"As much as I'd love a child, I don't think we're quite there yet" he chuckled softly 

"No, of course not!" I laughed nervously 

I felt myself becoming warmer, this was so embarrassing! I had no idea about contraception at all, I felt completely clueless on the matter. 

"Don't worry, there's a spell you can use. I can teach you if you like?" 

I didn't want to know why or how he knew such spells, the thought irked me. But I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over me, thank Merlin he knew something! I took out my wand and prepared to learn the spell. 

"Okay, so what do I do?" 

Sebastian took out his wand, showing me the wand movement before teaching me the incantation. 

"So you move your wand like this, but you must do it over yourself" 

The boy waved his wand about slowly, I watched intently as to not get anything wrong. He did it a few times then it was my turn. 

"Like this?" 

I copied the wand movement in front of me as practice before completing the spell on myself properly. Sebastian smiled as he watched me copy him almost perfectly.

"Yes exactly like that! Now do it over yourself and repeat after me" 

I had one more practice go, then moved my wand over my body and did the wand movement once more. I was so concentrated on getting it right, I was barely listening to what the boy was saying to me. 

"Ready?" He questioned 

"I'm ready" 

I did the wand movement over my body as Sebastian spoke the incantation to me. 

"Foetus deletus!"

"Foetus deletus!" 

I quickly looked up at him, the boy stared back at me with a wide mischievous grin on his face. That son of a bitch fooled me!

"You're fucking with me aren't you!!" I shouted 

The Slytherin burst out in laughter at how gullible I'd been.

"Hahaha! Im sorry! I didn't think it'd get that far, I'm surprised you even fell for it"

"Seb this isn't funny, what are we going to do!"

The boys expression faltered slightly as he saw the worry on my face.

"It's my fault, there is a spell we could have used, but it only works before we engage in such activities" 

Fuck my life, this was just getting worse.

"Surely theres something else we can do?"

"Well, there is a potion" 

"How do you know about all of this?" 

Regretting my question immediately, I cut him off before he opened his mouth to speak.

"Actually don't answer that, where do I find this potion?" 

"Well I've heard that some girls go to the vendor in Lower Hogsfield to get it, but I'm not sure. I've never been to that vendor before"

I give him a confused look

"What? Yes you ha-"

Completely stopping in my tracks, I managed to stop myself from word vomiting for the second time that day. Of course he'd been there before, that's where he got the necklace from! But he doesn't know that. I tried my best to cover up my words as much as possible.

"I mean.. surely you have? I'm surprised you haven't been to all the Vendors!"

Sebastian smirked down at me, a small chuckle escaping his mouth.

"I know I'm popular around these parts dear, but I've actually never visited that one before... maybe I should come with you-"

"NO!" 

He gave me another confused look as I shouted over him. I couldn't have him come with me, what if they recognise him and start making conversation? It'll be game over before it even started. 

"Are you alright?" He questioned 

"Sorry.. I didn't mean to yell. I just think it's best if I went alone, or with one of the girls.." I replied sheepishly 

"Hmm maybe you're right, might be a tad awkward if we both went" 

"Yeah.. you're telling me"

 

——————————————-

 

Sebastian held my hand as he guided me out of Gareth's dorm room, a wave of exhilaration mingled with nervousness washed over me. 

"Come on let's head back"

We walked back down the dimly lit corridor hand in hand as we made our way towards the party, the music became louder as we almost reached the common room together. Before we got there, Sebastian had stopped us, pulling me back slightly. 

"I just need to nip to the boys lavatory, are you okay waiting here?" 

I smiled back at him as I nodded in agreement

"Of course, I'll be right here waiting for you" 

He gave me a warm smile before he walked away. I watched on as he slipped off to the bathroom, leaving me alone in the corridor. My thoughts raced, my heart pounded and I couldn't help but replay the intense moments we just shared in my head. I was slowly losing my focus as I reimagined the situation in my head, but before I could fully revel in the aftermath of our new found intimacy, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. 

As if summoned by the devil himself, Adelaide had materialised from around the corner with her little posse. Her figure swayed slightly as she walked, she must have had a few drinks to say the least. Her eyes normally vibrant, now glazed over with fury as they bore into me. 

"Look what we have here" she sneered, her words slurring slightly. 

Her friends tried to hide their giggles as she attempted to insult me.

"Little miss innocent finally got a taste of Sebastian, I see" 

How the fuck did she see us? I swear this girls got eyes like a hawk, I envied her for it really.. she knew everything about everyone, shes almost as bad as Ominis! 

I stood my ground, keeping my facial expressions to a minimum.

"What do you want, Adelaide?"

"Oh don't play dumb sweetheart" 

She spat her words out like venom before stepping closer to me, so close that her face was now mere inches away from mine.  

"You think you're so special don't you? But you're just another notch on Sebastian's bedpost. He'll get bored of you soon enough, mark my words"

Her words stung, but I refused to let them have an effect on me.

"What me and Sebastian get up to is none of your business, get over it.. jealousy isn't a good look on you, sweetheart" 

The Hufflepuff laughed in my face, the smell of alcohol lingered off her hot breath as she tried to mock me. 

"Jealous? Oh please, it's obvious he's just using you to pass the time until someone better comes along. And trust me, there's always someone better"

I squared my shoulders, refusing to back down in her face of cruelty. 

"That might have been the case for you and Sebastian, but it's different with us" 

Her expression twisted into a malicious smirk

"Oh Alora, you really are delusional aren't you? You're nothing more than just a quick fuck to him. His loyalty lasts about as long as his attention span" 

That fucking bitch, I could feel the anger bubbling inside me as I shot back. My tone sharper than before

"Oh fuck off Adelaide! This is honestly boring now. Have you seriously got nothing better to do?" 

Her laughter rang out along with her friends, her voice laced with sarcasm as she spoke

"Touched a nerve have I? Well enjoy it while it lasts, I'm sure he'll be onto his next victim soon enough" 

Before I could formulate a response, Sebastian had reappeared from behind me. His expression turned sour as he took in the atmosphere between the Hufflepuff girls and myself. 

"What the fuck are you doing Adelaide?" He spat

Her smirk grew wider as the boy confronted her. 

"Ahh here he is, the man of the hour! I was just telling Alora here how quickly you get bored" 

I grabbed his arm swiftly in an attempt to pull him back as he jolted in front of the group of girls. He towered over Adelaide, his voice low as he spoke

"You better watch that fucking mouth of yours" 

The girl snorted before him, not taking his threat seriously at all

"Or else what?"

He stood still as the girl moved out the way, directing her attention onto me she spoke

"Seems you got yourself a guard dog. Might want to keep him on a fucking leash. What's the matter? Afraid of me, are you?" 

I moved closer to her, pulling Sebastian behind me

"Don't flatter yourself, I can handle myself just fine thank you. You're not the worst goblin I've dealt with" 

I nudged her shoulder hard as I stormed past her and back into the party. Sebastian caught up behind me as their laughter followed us, echoing throughout the corridor.

"Woof woof!" 

I exhaled deeply trying to calm myself down, I didn't want to be mad at Sebastian after the moment we just shared, but her words taunted me. I didn't want her poison seeping into me, I brushed it off as best I could and grabbed Sebastian by the hand.

"I need a fucking drink"

 

 ———————————————

 

The next morning I woke up tangled in my bed sheets with a severe headache. The result of my stand off with Adelaide was drinking myself into oblivion, a small groan escaped my dry mouth as I pulled myself up in my bed. Last night with Sebastian was... unforgettable. But reality hit hard as I remembered I needed to get myself the potion he had mentioned to me. 

"Finally, we thought you were dead" Imelda joked

My eyes resembled slits as I struggled to adjust to the lighting of the room. I slowly looked around to see 3 very fragile looking girls staring back at me, seems I wasn't the only one who drank a lot last night. 

"Wow, you all look like shit" I chuckled 

My 3 friends laughed in unison back at me

"You're not exactly a bed of roses yourself girl" Priscilla joked 

I grabbed the hand mirror that was sitting on my bedside table to reveal the damage that was done. I hesitantly peered into it, last nights makeup was still somewhat on my face, mascara had rubbed around my eyes giving me that panda look, my lips were pink and a tad swollen. I kind of remember straddling Sebastian and kissing him constantly, but the rest was a bit of a blur. And oh Merlin, let's not even talk about my hair. 

"What the hell happened to me?" I sighed in annoyance, embarrassment eating me up 

"Don't worry about it! It's the sign of a good night, we all had a scream it was the best!" 

Violet was right, we did have a good night. Probably my favourite night so far... obviously. 

"Alora definitely had a scream alright, tell us everything that happened!" Priscilla pressed 

My mind was still hazy but surely she didn't mean with Sebastian? How would she even know? I started to panic, my face blushing pink. 

"I uhhh" 

I couldn't even get the words to form in my dried up mouth, how the hell was I supposed to explain this? 

"Come on, everyone's been talking about it!" Violet said excitedly 

"Talking about what?" I acted dumb 

The girl paused before speaking again, a wide grin appearing on her lips as if something hilarious was about to happen.

"How you called Adelaide a goblin!!" She laughed uncontrollably in hysterics 

The biggest wave of relief washed over me, thank fucking Merlin for that! The walls echoed with laughter once more as I recalled the conversation with the Hufflepuff girl. 

"I can't believe you called her that, she had a face like a slapped arse the whole night haha!" Priscilla giggled 

"Well, she deserved it she's awful!" I replied defensively 

"For what it's worth, I think you were way too nice on her, I feel sorry for the Goblins" Imelda spoke, sarcasm laced in her tone 

A small snort escaped my mouth, it was kind of funny to be fair. But still, how did everyone know? Do the walls of Hogwarts have ears now? Nothing can be kept a secret for too long in this school. As the mood shifted, we stayed in bed a little while longer discussing the evening we all had, before getting up to start the day. I felt somewhat better after I had a 30 minute steamy hot shower. I would have gotten out sooner, but I felt like my soul needed a good cleansing after the evening I had. 

Once I got back to my dorm, I lazily got myself dressed and decided to pull Imelda to one side, confiding in her for help. 

"Hey what's your plans for today?" I questioned randomly 

"Nothing much really, I was going to go practice on my broom but I honestly don't think I have it in me... why, what's up?" 

I hesitated a little before speaking my next sentence to the girl. 

"Fancy a walk to Lower Hogsfield? Just the two of us?" 

"Are you asking me on a date, Lora?" She chuckled 

"There's just some inventory that I need to buy" I smiled innocently 

"Yeah sure, why not. I need to pick up something from down there anyways"

 

———————————————

 

The walk down to Lower Hogsfield was as lovely as it could be, when you're two young girls struggling from a hangover. The air was a lot colder now we were in October. The leaves beneath my feet crunched with every step, releasing the earthy scent of autumn. Shafts of sunlight filtered through the canopy of trees, the leaves now ablaze with shades of amber, gold and crimson. Normally I would love to hear the chatter of birds in the air, but not today. Today I was nursing an alcoholic migraine, and I was getting ever so closer to casting a silencing charm on every single one of them.  

After what felt like forever, we finally reached the little neighbourhood of Lower Hogsfield. The street was alive with activity, people chatting on the path as children played games by the waters edge. I could see the street performers entertaining passersby, and locals going about their daily routines. It was an intimate community, but it always felt so welcoming and friendly. 

"The vendor is just over here" Imelda pointed out 

We made our way over and were greeted by a middle age woman. I found it odd because I've been here before and was always served by Mr Sehmi, who was she?

"Ahh Imelda how lovely to see you my dear, and you've brought a friend today!" she smiled warmly at us both

"Good afternoon Amina, this is my friend Alora Winters" 

The woman's eyes widened as if she recognised who I was, I'd never seen her before though. She stared for a moment at the necklace that was still around my neck, before looking back up to me. 

"I can't believe it, I haven't seen that in years!" She gestured toward the piece of jewellery 

"Oh this? I got it as a gift for my 16th birthday" 

The woman's eyes lit up as she recalled the day she sold the item

"I remember selling it to a young boy, charming character! Freckles, curly brown hair.. I think his name was Stephen, Sven maybe?"

"Sebastian?" I questioned 

"Yes! That's the one! You must be the lucky girl he was gifting it to! Jalal has mentioned your name a few times come to think of it. You're quite the celebrity around here"

Celebrity? I didn't think anyone would class me as a celebrity at all

"Wow t-thank you. Pardon me asking, but where is Jalal?"

"He likes to take some Saturdays off, so I run the stall for him. I feel some clients prefer coming to me rather than my husband, as I sell my own potions for women" 

Imelda moved in front of me quickly, speaking to Mrs Sehmi quietly

"Please can I get the day after potion?"

“Day after potion?” I questioned 

Imelda gave me a look of embarrassment whilst Mrs Sehmi glanced between the two of us, she moved closer to us as she spoke in a hushed tone

“It’s a potion I make that prevents women from baring a child, it’s taken the day after you have unprotected intercourse.. hence the name” 

Imelda’s face turned red as she stared at me in silence, the hangover caused me to take a few minutes before responding until it hit me

“Imelda you did not!” I scorned rather loud

In an instant, the girl grabbed my arm whilst putting her other hand over my mouth

“Shhh! Will you keep your voice down!” 

She slowly released her hand from my mouth, letting me continue with the conversation 

“But who with?” I whispered 

“Who do you think it was with?” 

“WEASLEY?!” 

Her hand was back over my mouth without a second thought

“Yes with Weasley, now when I removed my hand will you promise to stop shouting?” 

I nodded my head repeatedly in silence. Once more she removed her hand from my mouth and let me speak. 

“Can we make that two ‘day after’ potions please?” I turned to Mrs Sehmi 

“Of course dear”

The woman turned around for a moment getting the potions prepared for us 

“Wait what?” Imelda pulled my arm back to face her 

I smiled back sheepishly at her, my face now turning red. I can’t believe this is how she was finding out about my night with Sebastian

“Alora? Did you … and Sebastian?… did you lose your virginity!”

Before I could reply the woman turned back around handing us both two small bags with the potions inside 

“Here you go ladies, that’ll be 60 galleons please” 

I handed her the money and grabbed my potion bag

“Thank you Amina, it was great meeting you” I smiled warmly at her before walking away in a hurry

“Hey wait a minute!” 

Imelda chased after me as I power walked my way out the small village and back to the castle. She finally caught up to me and caught my hand, turning me around to face her

“So you lose your virginity and do it unprotected in the same night?”

“I know. We just got caught up in the moment I guess, it wasn’t planned.. everything just happened so fast” 

“It’s okay, as long as you’re being safe that’s all that matters! How was it anyway?”

A smirk curled up on my lips as I remembered the events of last night 

“It was.. amazing. I’ve never felt so good in my life” I sighed

“Sex is fucking great isn’t it? I’m surprised it took you so long to do it!” 

“Well I’m glad I waited, it was definitely worth it”

Out of nowhere, an owl came gliding over us. It swooped down gracefully dropping a letter above us. The bird flew off as It hit the floor, my name was written on the envelope

“Looks like you have mail” Imelda spoke sarcastically 

I picked up the letter and opened it in front of her.

‘Alora,

I hope your heads not too sore after last night. Can you meet me outside the common room at 8pm? 

We need to talk.

Sebastian’ 

My heart raced and my mind became flooded with reasons of why he’d send me an owl like this. Did I do something wrong? Did I embarrass him at all last night? I felt sick to my stomach, maybe Adelaide was right.

“Well what does it say?” Imelda spoke pulling me out of my thoughts 

“Oh it’s nothing, Sebastian just wants to meet later” 

I folded up the piece of parchment paper and carried on walking back to the castle, Imelda following me from behind

“So talk to me about last night! You didn’t even say where you guys did it?”

I stopped swiftly in my tracks. If she found out we slept with each other in her love interest’s bed, she’d quite possibly kill me

“How about you tell me where you did it with Weasley first?” 

The girl rolled her eyes in annoyance before answering my question

“You’re so difficult sometimes I swear! …We did it in his room obviously, now you go!”

That settled it, I was a dead woman walking.

Chapter 22: Somewhere only we know

Notes:

Smut warning

 

As Imelda and I strolled back to the castle, I avoided as many questions as possible around my evening with Sebastian. Luckily for me, Imelda was in a sharing mood. She wasted no time at all as she launched straight into a detailed account of her night with Gareth, which somehow I managed to endure. 

 

"So basically after you had gone to get drinks with Sallow, Vi and Cilla left me on my own, I had no other choice but to be around Weasley by myself!" 

"What happened?" I spoke sarcastically rolling my eyes at her words 

"Well, it's just that... it was unexpected" she continued, fidgeting with the strap of her bag

"We were chatting, and then suddenly he asked if I wanted to go back to his dorm. And I don't know, just something about the way he looked at me made me say yes" 

 

A smirk grew on my lips as I sent a knowing look her way 

 

"Ahhh that infamous Weasley rizz finally got to you eh?" I giggled softly 

 

The girls face flushed pink, a small smile playing on her mouth. She didn't say anything, but I could see in her eyes that she was finally admitting her feelings for the red headed boy. I nodded towards her, encouraging her to go on. 

 

"So as I was saying, we went up to his dorm and we talked for a bit" she explained, her cheeks now turning a darker shade of pink

"And then, one thing led to another... and we ended up sleeping together" 

 

I couldn't help but smile at her adorable awkwardness, I've never seen her like this in all the years I've known the girl. Was Gareth Weasley making my best friend soft? I still felt incredibly awful about sleeping with Sebastian in Gareth's bed first, it was hard for me to keep this information from her.. but I knew it would be better for the both of us if it was left unsaid. 

 

"Sounds like things escalated rather quickly" I remarked, trying to lighten the mood 

"Yeah you're telling me! But it felt right, you know? I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but I felt like I could trust him, and it just happened... kinda like you and Sallow" she nudged my arm as she spoke 

 

I knew that was my queue to tell her about my night at the party, but I just wasn't even remotely ready to go there with her. I picked up my pace as we were nearing the entrance to the bridge, a small scoff escaping my mouth.

 

"Yeah, sounds.. similar" I replied passively 

 

Imelda matched my pace, she managed to grab my arm before I could make it up the steps.

 

"Hey.. it's okay if you don't want to speak about what happened, but what are you going to do about Sebastian? You two are moving rather quick, and it's a miracle in itself that this secret has gone on for this long... maybe it's time you tell him, before one of you gets hurt" 

 

My heart sunk to the pit of my stomach as an uneasy feeling washed over me. I don't know what I thought she was going to say, but I certainly was not expecting her to say that. I knew deep down she was right, but there was so much I needed to figure out still, I just didn't think now was the right time. I exhaled deeply before responding to her.

 

"I know. I'm still trying to work out the best way to explain it all to him... merlin's beard Imelda, how do you tell someone they got obliviated two years ago?"

 

My words shot out of my mouth sharper than intended, my friend's face faltered slightly at my response.

 

"Wow, I'm only looking out for you Alora? You said it yourself, the more involved you get with him the harder it will be to tell him.. and then what will happen?" 

 

I could feel myself getting more and more agitated with the situation that was unfolding. Being this hungover probably didn't help either, but I just didn't want to hear what she had to say right now. 

 

"Imelda please! Just stop! ... I can't tell him right now, it's not the right time!" 

 

The girls face dropped like a tonne of stone bricks before me, shit. 

 

"Well don't come crying to me when this whole thing blows up in your face!" 

 

She swiftly turned around on her heels making her exit pretty clear. I instantly regretted what I said as I tried to call after her.

 

"Imelda wait! I didn't mean to be-"

 

Without even a second look, she stormed off onto the bridge in front of me, leaving me stood at the entrance by myself. 

 

Well done, Alora. 

 

———————————————

 

I stood on the bridge for a moment, the cool breeze brushing against my face, trying to untangle the mess inside my head. The conversation with Imelda still echoing in my ears, I could feel the weight of our words pulling me in different directions. She didn't understand, or maybe she did, but she was pushing me to a decision I wasn't sure I was ready to make. Telling Sebastian this secret could change ... Everything. If I told him, he could freak out. He might hate me and Ominis for not telling him sooner, for keeping something so monumental from him. Would he realise what happened was for his own good?

 

Sebastian has always been irrational, and I know this would be a lot for him to take in. I could already picture the disbelief in his eyes, the way he'd recoil, thinking I'd lost my mind. But the necklace - the engraving, it could make him believe. And then, when I explain it to him and gave him back his memories, everything would be laid bare. He'd remember who I was, who we were together. All of our moments, the love, the laughter. Would he even want his memories back? If he did, he'd also remember what he did to Solomon. That memory alone could shatter him. I don't want to be the one to tip him over the edge, to see the man I care about spiral into a darkness he might never escape from a second time. His mental wellbeing is fragile enough without adding the burden of his past sins. 

 

Yet, keeping this secret isn't any easier. The closer we get, the harder it's becoming to maintain this facade. I'm already slipping up here and there, having to back track or think on my feet is getting exhausting. I can feel the toll it's taking on me, on us. It's only a matter of time before the truth slips out unintentionally, and then it would be even worse. Imelda was right, it is a miracle that this has lasted for so long. This can't go on indefinitely, but is now the right time? Every instinct inside me screams that it isn't, that I should wait for a better moment. But when will that moment come? Would it ever feel right? It probably never will. 

 

I took a deep breath, staring out over the black lake. The reflection of the sun danced over the surface, a serene contrast to the turmoil inside of me. I made a decision. Tonight, I'll tell him. It might not be perfect, and it might break us, but the truth needs to come out. For both of our sakes. 

 

It's time Sebastian knew everything.

 

"Alora, hey!" 

 

The sudden appearance of poppy startled me, her familiar voice pulling me back to reality. 

 

"Poppy... How are you?" 

 

She approached with her usual bright smile, but it quickly faded as she took in my expression.

 

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" 

 

I tried to brush it off, forcing a smile

 

"I'm fine, Poppy. Just... thinking" 

 

She wasn't convinced. That girl never was when it came to me. 

 

"Thinking about what? You look upset, what is it? You can tell me" she placed her hand on my arm gently as she spoke 

 

I hesitated, my mind racing. Poppy had no idea what was going on, but I thought maybe her perspective could help. 

 

"It's complicated... but, what would you do if you were keeping something from someone you cared about? Something big"

 

The Hufflepuff frowned, tilting her head in that curious way she always did when she was deep in thought.

 

"Like a secret?" She pulled back slightly 

"Yeah, a secret. A really important one.. and you knew by telling them it could change everything. Maybe even hurt them"

 

She leaned against the railing of the bridge, considering my words

 

"Well, I guess it would depend on what the secret is and how it could affect them. But if it's something that's eating you up inside, maybe it's better to just come clean. Secrets always have a way of coming out"

 

I sighed, staring at the rippling water below. 

 

"That's what I'm afraid of. That it will come out and will be even worse because I didn't say anything sooner"

"Sounds serious" Poppy replied softly 

"Do you think they'd understand why you kept it a secret?" 

 

I exhaled deeply, my eyes never leaving the lake

 

"I don't know" I admitted

"I want to believe that they would, but it's such a big thing. It could completely change how they see me. How they see everything" 

 

Poppy nodded, slowly taking in my words

 

"Sometimes the fear of the unknown is worse than the reality. If they really care about you, they'll understand why you did what you did. And if it's going to come out eventually, it's better it comes from you than from someone else, right?"

 

I chewed on my bottom lip, listening to her. She always was the voice of reason, she always knew what to say in any situation

 

"I guess you're right, but what if telling them hurts them even more than the secret itself?" 

"That's always a risk, but it sounds like it's already hurting you both. Maybe telling the truth is the only way to start healing. Even if it's hard at first" 

 

I looked at her, really looked at her. I saw the serenity in her eyes. Poppy had always been straight forward and honest, even when it was difficult. Maybe that's what I needed to be too. 

 

"Thanks Poppy... I think I know what I need to do now" 

 

I felt a little lighter as she smiled, giving my arm a reassuring squeeze

 

"Anytime, Alora. And remember whatever happens, you're not alone. You've got people who really care about you" 

 

I nodded, feeling a surge of determination. Tonight, I would tell Sebastian. It was time to face the truth, not matter how much it hurt. I felt the cool breeze rustle my hair as I watched Poppy's face turn to a mixture of determination and trepidation. She turned to me, her eyes searching mine.

 

"Alora... I wanted to ask" her voice wavering slightly 

"Did you... did you ever speak to Ominis about, you know, his feelings towards me?"

 

I had been so caught up in my own issues lately, I'd completely forgot to mention about my conversation with Ominis to her. Guilt pricked at me as I took a deep breath, reminding myself that honesty was key here 

 

"Poppy I'm so sorry I didn't bring this up earlier! Yes I did speak to Ominis"

 

I paused, watching her face for any sign of relief or anxiety 

 

"He's definitely interested in you, but I think he's incredibly shy about it" 

 

Her eyes widened, a hint of a smile playing on her lips

 

"Really? He is?"

 

I nodded, trying to convey the sincerity of my words

 

"Yes really! He's so relaxed when he's around you, he said it himself. I just think he's unsure of how to express himself, I think he's afraid of saying the wrong thing or coming on too strong" 

 

The Hufflepuff looked down at her hands, fiddling with the hem of her jumper. The sunlight caught the faint freckles on her cheeks, making her look even more endearing

 

"I was hoping the feeling was mutual.. I just don't want to make things awkward between us" 

"I understand" I replied softly, placing my hand on her arm reassuringly 

"But I think the only way you'll know for sure is if you talk to him. One on one"

 

Poppy looked up at me, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and fear 

 

"What if he doesn't feel the same way once I tell him how I feel?"

 

I squeezed her arm gently 

 

"I know it's scary, but sometimes the fear of the unknown is worse than the reality" I said with a slight smirk 

 

The girl let out a small laugh as she caught onto me using her own advice against her. Her expression softened as she gave me a grateful smile

 

"Thanks Alora, I'll speak to him"

 

———————————————

 

I spent the rest of the afternoon on my own. I remembered to drink the potion I had bought off Amina in girls bathroom, making sure I got rid of all evidence of me ever having it. I avoided the dungeons completely until I had to meet Sebastian, I couldn't quite face going down there until I absolutely had to. 

 

The time had come and the castle was eerily silent as I made my way through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts. The evening shadows seemed to stretch and twist around me, adding to the knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach. Since receiving Sebastian's owl this afternoon, I'd been on edge ever since. I paused in front of a large tapestry, taking a moment to steady my breathing. Why did he want to meet me? What the hell did he have to say? A thousand scenarios ran through my mind, none of them settling my nerves. I continued walking, my footsteps echoing off the stone walls, until I finally reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room. 

 

I could see Sebastian was already there, leaning casually against the wall, his expression unreadable in the flickering torchlight. Fuck, Alora this was it. I took a deep breath and made my way down the steps towards him, he straightened up as he saw me approaching. A small, almost hesitant smile played on his lips.

 

"Alora" he greeted, his voice warm but tinged with something I couldn't quite place

"Thanks for coming"

"Of course I'd come Sebastian" I replied, forcing a smile 

"What did you want to talk about?" 

 

He glanced around to make sure we were alone, before speaking in a lower tone 

 

"I wanted to show you something. Something... special" 

 

Curiosity piqued despite my nervousness, I nodded 

 

"What is it?" 

 

The boy smirked as he held out his hand for me to hold

 

"Come with me" 

 

I took his hand and we started walking together. Not a word was spoken between us as he guided me through the winding corridors. We passed through the Defence Against the Dark Arts tower, and my heart skipped a beat when I realised where he was taking me. The Undercroft. The secret room only he and Ominis knew about. 

 

'Not even the professor's know about this place'

 

Nostalgia crept up on me as the flashback from fifth year unfolded before my eyes. I ignored it as best as possible as we were nearing the entrance under the staircase. 

 

"There's a secret passage just here" he whispered 

"It's well disguised" I replied 

 

I couldn't help but get a feeling of de ja vu at the situation, oh Merlin this shouldn't be happening again! Sebastian got out his wand, flicking the mechanism and unlocking the door to the undercroft entrance. The door swung open and he gestured for me to go through first. I stepped inside, my heart beating out of my chest as I made my way down to the not so secret room. The familiar cool air and the sight of the stone chamber made me feel uneasy upon entering. I stopped at the gate waiting for Sebastian as he followed behind, he took my hand once more and walked me into the space before us. He glanced back at me, his eyes searching mine. 

 

'I'm in love with you Alora Winters. I want to keep making you happy for as long as you'd let me, so I just wanted to know.. can I please be your boyfriend?'

 

My breath hitched at the sudden memory. I tried to regain my focus, bringing myself back to the current situation at hand

 

"How did you find this place?" I asked quickly 

"Ominis found it, he named it the 'Undercroft' it's been in his family for years" 

 

I swallowed hard, trying to hide my familiarity

 

"Really? That sounds amazing.. this place is amazing" I replied, trying to sound genuinely impressed 

"We used to come here almost daily, we've never been caught" he smiled, a hint of pride in his eyes

 

I glanced around pretending to see the room for the very first time. Sebastian watched me closely, his expression softening

 

"It's incredible" was all I managed to say

"I knew you'd appreciate it, but there's also something else I wanted to talk to you about"

 

My heart rate doubled at his words. I knew this was my chance, I had to tell him now before this went on any further. I took a breath before replying

 

"There's actually something I wanted to talk to you about as well" 

 

The boy smiled warmly at me. He slowly took my hands in his as he stared lovingly into my eyes 

 

"Can I please go first?" He whispered 

 

Fucking hell how does he keep doing this to me? I closed my eyes momentarily before opening them once more 

 

"Sure" I sighed 

"Excellent" he grinned 

 

- You might want to get some snacks and a drink here. Take a moment to compose yourself and strap in bitches, we're going for a ride 😜 -

 

Letting go of one hand, he took his wand out, flicking it in the air above us. Out of nowhere, the lights dimmed and the space felt somehow warmer... a romantic aura filling the room around us. He led me into the middle of the room where he sat me down on the leather sofa. I wasn't sure what to expect, so I sat and watched him as he conjured floating candles around us with ease. 

 

"Have you ever been blindfolded before?"

 

The question was so out the blue, it caught me off guard. My brows furrowed as I tried to formulate a response

 

"Blindfold?"

"Yes dear, to cover your eyes... enhance your other senses" he spoke in a seductive tone

"Why would you ask me that, what's going on?" I replied softly with a hint of caution

 

The boy looked down at me, his eyes filled with desire as he bore them into me. A devilish grin crept up on his lips as he slowly bent down in front of me, so we were now at eye level

 

"Shhh.. now just relax, do you trust me?" He said gently, his voice low

 

The room seemed to be silent, only the soft flicker of candlelight could be heard. I matched his volume as I replied 

 

"Yes, I do"

 

The boys smile became more genuine as he heard my response, seemingly pleased with my answer 

 

"That's a good girl" he whispered 

 

He slowly pulled out a blindfold from his back pocket, holding it before me as he continued 

 

"Now when I put this blindfold on you, I want you to focus on nothing but my voice, okay?"

 

I had no idea what was going on, but I nodded in agreement giving my approval to him. The boy wasted no time as he placed the blindfold over me, helping me adjust it to my head. With my vision now gone I sat nervously on the sofa, only having 4 out of 5 senses as my guide

 

"There we go... perfect" 

 

There was something about the way he spoke that sentence that made me feel more at ease. I listened to my surroundings as he continued to talk

 

"Alright, so like I said.. just listen to my voice"

 

Sebastian got up and started to walk around to the back of the sofa, the click of his shoes echoed on the stone floor as he made his way around to the back of me. I listened closely to his movements until he came to a halt. His body moved slightly as his lips grazed my cheek, his whisper like a kittens purr in my ear 

 

"You are so beautiful Alora, your body is just... wow"

 

The heat of his breath on my neck made my skin tingle, a small smile curved on my lips whilst he spoke. I made sure to stay silent and just listened to his words

 

"You're driving me insane and I just can't take it anymore. Last night was something special, but I want more. I want to devour every inch of you"

 

I was somewhat taken back by what he was saying, but I also couldn't help but feel proud. I must of certainly left an impression on him last night, that's for sure. He made his way around to the front of the sofa as he carried on speaking 

 

"I've brought you here because.. I want you to give yourself to me"

 

I could feel him in front of me once more, he knelt down placing his hands on my thighs. The light touch making me shudder slightly. My heart pounded in my chest, a symphony of conflicting emotions. Desire, fear, and a secret so heavy it threatened to spill from my lips

 

"Sebastian" I whispered back, trembling slightly 

 

His hands moved down my thighs and onto my arms, his hands intertwining with mine. The heat from his skin seeped into me, grounding me. Anchoring me to this moment. I tilted my head back slightly, exposing my neck, a silent invitation for him to continue

 

"Please, say yes" he murmured, a hint of tension in his voice 

 

I swallowed hard, the words I wanted to say trapped behind my teeth. How could I tell him now, when everything felt so right? His fingers tightened around mine, and I could feel the intensity of his gaze even through the blindfold 

 

"Trust me" he said once more, his voice a low comfortable rumble

 

And I did. I trusted him with my body, my heart... my soul. I leaned into him, letting my other senses take over. The scent of cedar wood, books and green apples flooding my nose, the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing - all of it enveloped me, making me forget everything else. For now, I would give him what he asked. I would give him all of me, except for that one piece I couldn't bare to share. Not yet.

 

"Alright" I finally said, my voice steadying 

"I'll give myself to you Sebastian. Fully"

 

He released a breath he seemed to have been holding, and his hands cupped my face gently. A smile curled up on my mouth before his lips met mine in a deep, passionate kiss that sent sparks flying through my body. His kiss was both demanding and tender, a reflection of his desire and care. I melted into him, letting the kiss deepen, my own desires rising to meet his.

 

Our breaths became one, and I could feel myself surrendering to the moment, letting the last remnants of doubt and fear dissolve in the heat between us. His hands roamed my back, pulling me closer, as if he wanted to merge our very beings. I responded in kind, my arms wrapping around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. Suddenly his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me into him and with a fluid motion, he lifted me up. I gasped against his lips, feeling the world tilt as he stood. In the next heartbeat, I found myself straddling him. His strong hands supporting me as he sat back down, positioning me on his lap. 

 

My heart raced even faster, the intimate position sending a fresh wave of heat through me. I could feel every inch of him beneath me, the firm lines of his body, the rapid rise and fall of his chest. His lips never left mine, the kiss was deepening and only growing more urgent. Fuck.

 

"Alora" he breathed against my mouth, his hands gripping my hips firmly

"I want you so badly" 

 

I could only moan in response, the sensations overwhelming. I pressed closer to him, my body aligning with his, the connection between us felt electric. His hands then found themselves fiddling with the hem of my shirt

 

"May I?" 

"Mhmm" 

 

I couldn't formulate words to respond with, I was too consumed by the moment to get them to come out. Slowly, almost reverently he began to lift it, his fingers grazing my skin and sending shivers through me. I raised my arms to help him, and with a single fluid motion, he pulled the shirt over my head and discarded it to the floor. The cool air of the undercroft caressed my now bare skin, contrasting sharply with the heat of his touch. He ran his hands down my sides, exploring every inch of my exposed flesh. His touch felt tender and possessive. I gasped, arching into him, craving more. 

 

"You're so fucking perfect" he murmured, his lips trailing down my neck 

 

I felt a flush of heat spread through me at his words. My breath coming in shallow gasps

 

"Sebastian" I whispered, my voice trembling with a mixture of desire and vulnerability 

 

He pulled back slightly, and though I couldn't see him, I could feel the intensity of his gaze. 

 

"I want all of you, Alora" he replied, his voice low and filled with raw emotion 

"Every single part of you"

 

He shifted then, his movements purposeful and confident. With one swift motion he swept me up once more, his strong arms cradling me against his chest as he did so. I gasped, clinging onto him, my heart was racing as he laid me down onto the sofa. I felt the soft give of the leather beneath me as he laid me down gently. The cool fabric pressed against my back as his body settled over me. His weight was a comforting presence, his hands bracing each side of my head as he lowered himself slowly. He was then capturing my lips in another searing kiss, his body intimately pressed against mine.

 

His hands explored down my body, tracing along my curves as if he was memorising everything he touched. His lips left mine to trail kisses down my neck and collarbone, slowly making his way down. Not a single inch of me untouched. His breath became heavy as he felt my skin burn hotly beneath his fingers. His need for me only growing more powerful with every second

 

“I want you too” I spoke just above a whisper 

 

Without hesitation, his hands lifted up my skirt and his tongue caressed my skin like a starved man finally being fed. He placed my leg on his shoulder, his hands sliding up my inner thigh as he let out a low groan. His mouth then pressed the skin of my thigh as he gently bit me, leaving a small red mark. My breath hitched as I felt his teeth nip at me, my moans filling the air around us. He placed a gentle kiss on the area he left the mark on, and continued on his slow journey to my core. 

 

“I need to taste you” he groaned on my skin

 

He tugged at my underwear, pulling the fabric down my legs and discarding them on the floor with my shirt. Even blindfolded, I could sense he was loving the sight of my now naked body. His hands traced my thighs before leaning down to touch my core with his tongue. The sensation sent a shiver down my spine, the need for him growing stronger with every touch

 

“Oh Merlin” I moaned 

 

I felt his head move, watching my face before diving back in, licking and sucking on my clit. He sucked harder before adding a finger to my entrance, pumping it in and out at a steady pace. My body felt like it was on fire, my breathing became heavier as he added another finger while speaking to me

 

“That’s it, feel my fingers inside you” he groaned into me 

 

His words alone were sending me over the edge. My hands found themselves tangled in his hair as my body responded to his touch. His fingers hitting that spot with every thrust and his mouth sucking on my throbbing clit

 

“Sebastiannnn” 

 

He gripped on my thigh as my moan echoed around the room, he sucked on my clit harder whilst pumping his fingers in me faster 

 

“I’m not stopping until you cum on me, you taste so fucking good Alora” 

 

My whole body ignited as he spoke, my back arched as I felt myself edging closer to that sweet release. I was basically panting as he kept working on me. Sending my whole body into overdrive, my head tilted back as another moan escaped my mouth 

 

“Don’t stopppp”

 

My grip on his hair became tighter, my body writhing beneath him as he continued his ruthless assault on my pussy. I could feel myself tightening around his fingers, my climax coming in fast

 

“Cum for me Alora” he groaned 

 

I didn’t respond in words, I was unable to find any between my moans of need and overwhelming desire. His hand still gripped my thigh tightly as he felt my body respond to his tongue pressing deeper inside me, getting me to climax hard beneath him. My body began to vibrate as he pushed me over the edge. A wave of pleasure coursed through me, an intense wave of rapture and ecstasy flowing so hard it was almost unbearable. He began to slow his tongue, making sure I felt every wave of pleasure he could create

 

“Fuck Sebastian!”

 

The boy didn’t respond as I cummed hard on his mouth, he stayed down making sure to catch every delicious drop of my slack on his tongue. Once my body calmed down, he slowly pulled his fingers out of me. He removed my blindfold and looked seemingly proud of his achievement as he licked his fingers clean in front of me. 

 

“How was that?” A smirk covered his face as he whispered on my mouth

 

I smirked back, a blush covering my cheeks as I stuttered a response 

 

“I-it was… wow” I sighed, clearly still mind blown from his performance 

“Good, because we’re not done here” he grinned

“What?”

 

The boy crawled on top of me capturing my lips with his, his tongue entering my mouth with a new found hunger for me. He deepened the kiss, our breaths intertwining with each other. His hands cupped my face as he whispered on my lips, his eyes staring into mine as he spoke 

 

“I’m going to fuck you the way you deserve, do you understand?” 

 

It was bold of me to assume that he was done, this was Sebastian we were talking about, he doesn’t do things by halves. My heart raced as my body felt completely consumed by him, my mind burning with need

 

“Yes… I understand” I whispered 

“Good girl” 

 

He placed a kiss on my lips and pulled the blindfold back down, covering my eyes once more. Again, with one fluid motion, the boy scooped me up and placed me on the floor so I was now stood up. He held my hand as he guided me to the back of the sofa

 

“Now, place your hands on the sofa and bend over for me”

 

I did as he said and leant over the back of the sofa.

 

“That’s my girl”

 

I heard his belt buckle being undone and his pants being pulled down slightly. I waited patiently for him as he positioned himself behind me, the next thing I felt was his hard cock teasing my entrance, rubbing himself on me. A small gasp escaped my lips as I felt his hot breath on my neck. He whispered in my ear before going any further 

 

“You’re so wet for me already”

 

I heard him grab for his wand as he murmured an incantation around us. I felt a tingle through my body as the spell casted over the both of us. He threw his wand to the side, then slowly pushed himself inside me, the length of his cock filling me up. He groaned as my wetness covered him as he slid inside me

 

“You’re so fucking tight” 

 

I smile crept up on my lips as he spoke. His hands grabbed onto my hips and he began to slowly thrust into me

 

“Oh fuck” I breathed 

 

This only added fuel to his fire as his thrusts became faster, he started to fuck me harder. A low growl left his mouth as he smacked my arse whilst continuing to thrust into me, his cock throbbing inside of me

 

“Be a good girl and take it, take every inch of my cock” he growled 

 

He smacked my arse repeatedly as continued thrusting harder and harder, the sound of our bodies slapping together echoed throughout the room. Our breathing became heavier as he grabbed tighter onto my hips

 

“Sebastiannnn!”

“Oh Merlin that’s it, scream my name Alora!”

 

His hand found its way into my hair as he pulled on it, jolting my head back

 

“Give me that neck!”

 

He sucked on the skin of my neck, biting down on it and leaving his mark on me. He kissed over the area whilst pounding into the back of me. His thrusts became more forceful, my body began to tremble underneath him as another wave of euphoria washed through me. My mind was fully drowning in my need for Sebastian 

 

“Sebastian you’re gonna make me-”

“That’s it, good girl cum for me… I’m going to fill you up” 

 

His words tipped me over the edge, I heard him let out a primal growl as we both shared an orgasm together. My legs trembled, struggling to keep myself up as it flowed through me. Sebastian caught sight of this and placed his hands on my hips, firmly holding me in place as he slowed his rhythm. I was truly exhausted by now, I removed my blindfold as he pulled himself out of me. The wetness dripping down my leg as he did so. I turned around to face him and noticed he had a look of complete satisfaction plastered across his face. I grabbed my wand and cleaned myself up, then began getting myself dressed again. 

 

“That was incredible” he smiled at me, his hands snaking around my waist

“You certainly know what you’re doing, don’t you?” I giggled softly 

“Well, there’s a lot more where that came from, just you wait” he smirked 

“I don’t doubt it” I teased 

 

His fingers tucked the hair behind my ear as he softly spoke to me 

 

“This place is now our place, somewhere just for us. Okay?” 

 

I nodded back in response, smiling warmly at him as we stood there in silence. We stayed there for a moment, just taking each other in. Reality hit me and the weight of un spoken words hung around us. I knew I couldn’t keep this secret forever, but tonight wasn’t the night to reveal it. 

 

“Are you as lost in this moment as I am?” He smiled down at me, his eyes searching mine

“Yes.. completely” I smiled back

 

The words came out of me with ease, but in the back of my mind the truth remained, slowly waiting for the right moment to come to light.

Chapter 23: Face your fears

A few days had passed and the great hall was buzzing with the usual morning energy, the clatter of silverware and the murmur of conversations filled the air. I sat next to Sebastian, absently poking at my scrambled eggs whilst he animatedly recounted his latest argument with Leander Prewett in a recent class. His voice was thick with disdain, each word dripping with the intensity of his feelings. I half listened, I was more entertained by Sebastian's passion than the actual contents of the rant. My attention was slowly wavering between his story and the lively scene around us, the array of colourful house banners fluttering above us adding to the vibrant atmosphere

 

"Alora, are you even listening?" 

 

Sebastian's voice broke through my thoughts, a smirk playing on his lips as he nudged me on my elbow

 

"Yes, yes of course" I replied 

 

Although the truth was my mind was only half present. I took a sip of my pumpkin juice, savouring the familiar sweetness

 

"Then what did I just say?" He challenged 

 

I sighed knowing I wasn't really listening to him, I tried to remember what he was even going on about before replying with something he may have said

 

"Something about him being a pathetic excuse of a wizard? Or him being a ginger twat?" 

 

The boy furrowed his brows slightly before speaking, a look of slight confusion across his face 

 

"Well yes.. but no, that's not what I was saying!" He tried to hide the smirk creeping up on his face 

"Sebastian you're going to give yourself a stroke if you keep ranting the way you are" I said with a smile, trying to ease his agitation 

 

Before he could respond, the doors to the hall creaked open. I glanced up to see Ominis making his way towards us. His usually calm demeanour was noticeably absent, his steps were hurried and his face was etched with worry. He approached the Slytherin table with a letter clutched tightly in his hand, his knuckles white from the grip

 

"Ominis what's wrong?" I asked, concern lacing my voice as he reached us 

 

Without a word, he tossed the letter onto the table, his wand scanning the room as if searching for an escape. Sebastian and I exchanged a puzzled look before picking up the letter, unfolding it carefully

 

"It's from Poppy" Ominis said, his voice strained 

"She wants to talk to me" 

 

I watched as Sebastian read the letter, his eyes widening slightly before he handed it over to me. The note was brief, Poppy's neat handwriting conveying a surge of urgency

 

'Ominis

Can we meet later? There's something important I need to tell you

Poppy'

 

I looked up at Ominis who was now pacing back and forth, running and hand through his hair in frustration 

 

"What's the big deal, Ominis?"

 

Sebastian asked leaning back in his chair with a bemused expression

 

"She just wants to meet up?" 

 

Ominis stopped pacing and turned to us, his glassy eyes filled with a mixture of dread and hope

 

"It's not that.. I'm almost certain she's going to tell me how she feels about me, and I think I like her too. I just have no idea how to express myself though, what if I mess it up?" 

 

I felt a pang of sympathy for him. Despite his usually composed exterior, Ominis was clearly out of his depth when it came to matters of the heart

 

"Just be honest with her" 

 

I suggested gently before pausing momentarily at my own words. It really was bold of me to tell someone else to be honest, when I couldn't even do that myself right now

 

"Tell her how you feel. Poppy's a sweet girl, I know she'll understand" I continued 

"It's not that simple" Ominis replied shaking his head 

"What if I say something stupid? What if she changes her mind?"

"Mate you come from a family of dark wizards, you've dealt with worse people" Sebastian said, leaning forward in his seat

"You can handle a conversation with Poppy Sweeting. Just be yourself"

 

Ominis sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly 

 

"Sometimes I wish I had your confidence, Sebastian" 

"Confidence is just pretending you know what you're doing, until you actually do" he laughed 

 

I smiled nodding in agreement 

 

"He's right you know, just speak to her. You'll be fine I promise"

 

The boy took a deep breath, a small hint of a smile finally breaking through his worried expression 

 

"Thank you, both of you. I suppose I just needed to hear that" 

 

As he sat down with us, the tension seemed to ease a bit, and we resumed with our breakfast. I sat there and stared at the both of them, the three of us together in that moment felt like old times. A mixture of happiness and guilt washed over me, I quickly shook it off before continuing to eat the remainder of my meal

 

—————————————————————

 

My stomach now full, the three of us made our way through the bustling corridors of the castle. We all shared Defence Against the Dark Arts that morning so we made our way to class together. It had always been one of my favourite lessons, Professor Hecat was a formidable teacher, and I couldn't wait to see what she had in store for us today. 

 

The stone walls of Hogwarts echoed with chatter and laughter of students making their way to their respective classes. Torches flickered on the walls, casting a warm golden glow that contrasted with the chill of the early morning. As we walked, Sebastian's frame loomed protectively close, and I could feel his intense gaze on me. There was something both thrilling and unsettling about the way he looked at me, as if I was the only thing that mattered in his world. It made my heart race for reasons I was only beginning to understand.

 

"Apparently we're doing something different today" Sebastian spoke nonchalantly 

"Sebastian, we do something different every DADA class. That's nothing new" Ominis replied, sarcasm laced in his tone

 

I kept silent as the pair continued their conversation 

 

"Yes I know that, but I mean something intense" 

 

I broke my silence as I added into the conversation between the two

 

"All of Hecat's classes are intense, Sebastian" I spoke, a hint of a smirk tugging at my lips 

"Intense is an understatement" Ominis muttered under his breath

 

The comment, although quiet caught my attention. I never thought about how difficult it must be for Ominis to take part in our lessons. His inability to see making it harder for him than the rest of us, made me feel somewhat sad for him. We walked in silence for a moment, only the sounds of the rhythmic tapping of our footsteps on the stone floor echoed around us. I stole a glance at Sebastian, his dark hair falling carelessly over his eyes, his expression was unreadable. As we neared the classroom, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever Professor Hecat had prepared. 

 

"No... ugh you'll see what I mean" He huffed frustratedly at the both of us 

 

Sebastian's hand then brushed against mine, a brief, electrifying touch that sent a jolt through my body. I looked up at him, finally meeting his gaze. His eyes were dark, filled with a fierce protectiveness for me

 

"I'm sure we'll be okay" I smiled warmly at him 

 

He nodded, his expression softening for a moment

 

"I'm sure we will too" He smiled back, wrapping his pinky finger around mine before letting it go

 

With that the three of us stepped into the room, unbeknownst to what was about to unfold. 

 

The anticipation in the DADA classroom was palpable as we all took our seats. The murmurs of excitement and anxiety blending into a relentless hum. Professor Hecat stood at the front of the room, her eyes sweeping over us, sharp and assessing as she began to speak 

 

"Today we will be learning about Boggarts" she announced, her voice firm and steady

"A boggart is a shapeshifting creature that takes the form of your worst fear." 

 

A few hushed whispers and gasps could be heard as she spoke to us. I glanced around and noticed a look of worry on some student's faces. 

 

"Now don't panic, the spell to combat a boggart is 'Riddikulus'. The spell forces the boggart to assume a form you find humorous, thus weakening it" 

 

She paused for a moment, assessing our reactions before speaking again 

 

"I probably know what you're all thinking, that this sounds 'ridiculous'. But believe me when I say this, laughter is your greatest weapon against a boggart"

 

She then motioned to a large wardrobe at the back of the room, which was shaking and rattling ominously, as if a ferocious beast were trapped inside.

 

"Inside that, is a boggart. You will each face it in turn" she spoke confidently 

 

We all got up from our seats and made our way to the back of the room, a wave of unease sweeping through the class. 

 

"I bet 10 galleons that a puffskein comes out of that wardrobe when it's Hobhouse's turn... coward" 

 

Ominis whispered sarcastically to myself and Sebastian as we all lined up in single file. Sebastian let out a small snort at his comment, he was about to reply before the sounds of the wardrobe shaking louder, took him by surprise. His usual confident demeanour was tinged with a rare uncertainty, and Ominis though composed, looked paler than usual. My own heart pounded in my chest as I stood in line in front of them. 

 

The first few students stepped forward, each facing their personal nightmares: giant spiders, towering figures of authority, wild mongrels. With each successful casting of riddikulus, the tension of the room eased slightly, though the underlying fear remained. 

 

"Well done! That's it! Remember.. picture something you fear the most and turn it into something funny!" Professor Hecat prompted to the room 

 

Students were completing the task and the line was getting shorter, until finally it was down to me

 

"Miss Winters.. you're up next" 

 

I took a deep breath and stepped forward, my palms slick with sweat. The room seemed to hold its breath as I approached the wardrobe. My mind went into overdrive as I thought of all the possible things that I could be faced with. I've defeated dark wizards, every predator in the vicinity, giant knights in armour, goblins left right and centre, Ranrok in his dragon form.. all when I was 15 for Merlin's sake! What could possibly come out of there that I haven't already dealt with? The doorknob rattled as Sebastian's intense gaze bore into my back, I could feel the eyes of my classmates on me, their collective anxiety pressing down on my shoulders. 

 

The door creaked open slowly and for a moment, I was frozen in place. From the darkness emerged a figure that made my blood run cold. It was me.. but not quite me. This version of myself looked more sinister, with wild tangled hair and glowing red eyes that burned with malevolence. Her clothes were tattered and dark, her body covered in scars. She looked like a creature born from nightmares, was this a dark reflection of my deepest fears? The classroom fell silent. My breath caught in my throat and I couldn't move, couldn't think. The boggart stepped forward, her movements slow and deliberate, her eyes never leaving mine. The horror of seeing this twisted version of myself was paralysing. I could feel the weight of everyone's gaze, their shock and confusion mingling with my own terror.

 

She stopped right in front of me, her breath hot on my face. Then in a voice that was a twisted mockery of my own, she whispered 

 

"Wake up" 

 

The words sent a chill through me, snapping me out of my paralysis. My heart raced and I felt a surge of panic, this was my fear, my darkness. What did it mean? A spark of defiance hit me, I couldn't let this control me. I gripped my wand tighter, remembering Professor Hecats instructions 

 

"Riddikulus!" I shouted, my voice trembling but resolute

 

For a moment, nothing happened. The dark reflection of myself seemed to waver, a crooked smile slid across her face as her eyes flickered with uncertainty. Then all of a sudden her form began to shift. The sinister expression softened into a blank, expressionless face. Her tattered clothes transformed into a frilly, oversized doll dress. Her wild hair tuned into neat, silky pigtails, and her eyes once glowing red, now became large buttons instead. Laughter erupted from my classmates, breaking the tension in the room. The boggart now a harmless giant doll, retreated back into the wardrobe defeated by the absurd transformation. I let out a shaky breath, my knees weak with relief. Sebastian was by my side in an instant placing a hand on my arm, his eyes lingering with concern.

 

"Well done, Alora!" Professor Hecat said, her tone approving

"You handled that admirably"

 

I nodded, still catching my breath as I walked to where the other students had collected to watch their peers. I couldn't shake the feeling that the boggarts words held a deeper meaning, a warning that lingered in the back of my mind. For now though, I was just grateful that I had made it through. I stood in silence as I watched the rest of the students face their own boggarts, until finally we had all completed it. 

 

The class wound down and the buzz of conversation slowly returned. The tension of the room gradually dissipated as Professor Hecat dismissed us all. I gathered my things and made my way out of the class, as I stepped into the corridor, the usual bustle of students greeted me, but I was too preoccupied to notice much. Just as I was about to take a breath of relief, Sebastian grabbed my arm, pulling me gently but firmly to the side. Ominis lingered nearby, sensing the tension but not intervening

 

"Alora, what the hell was that?" He demanded, his voice low but urgent

"What did that boggart mean, why did it take that form?"

 

I looked into his eyes, searching for the right words but finding none. My own fear and confusion mirrored in his gaze. I had never seen him so rattled, his usual confidence was replaced by a vulnerability that made my heart ache

 

"I-I don't know" I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper 

"It took me by surprise as well, I've never seen anything like it"

 

His grip tightened slightly, his worry evident 

 

"That wasn't just a fear of something simple, Alora. That was you, or some twisted version of you. What are you afraid of? What's going on?" 

 

I shook my head, a lump forming in my throat

 

"I don't know, I've never felt this way before. It was like looking into a mirror, but one that showed the worst parts of me, the parts I didn't know existed"

 

His eyes softened, though the concern remained. He let go of my arm and cupped my face gently, his thumb brushing against my cheek

 

"You know you can tell me anything, right? Let me help you" 

 

I took a deep breath trying to steady myself. The encounter had shaken me to my core, and I didn't have the answers he wanted

 

"I wish I could explain it, I don't fully understand it myself... but it scared me more than anything has"

 

The boy sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He pulled me into a tight embrace, his chin resting on top of my head 

 

"We'll figure it out" he murmured, his voice soft and reassuring 

"Whatever it is, I've got you. Don't worry" 

 

I nodded against his chest, feeling a mix of relief and lingering fear. The weight of his arms around me was comforting as he placed a gentle kiss on my head. I closed my eyes momentarily, enjoying the feel of him around me. I couldn't help but feel the encounter with the boggart was just the beginning of something deeper. But for now, I did my best to let it go.

 

—————————————————————

 

Sebastian kept his eye on me for the rest of the day after that. He does anyway, but more than usual. He’d ask how I was after every class, making sure I’d get to each one safely and meeting me afterwards in any classes we didn’t share. He walked me to the great hall for lunch and dinner, making sure I ate everything on my plate in the process. The weight of the morning grew heavy on my shoulders and as day turned into night, I couldn’t shake the lingering unease of the Boggart. My mind replayed the moment over and over again, the dark reflection of myself haunting my thoughts. What the hell did it mean? Why did it take that form? I tossed and turned in bed, the questions gnawing at me, refusing to let me rest. 

 

Finally, I gave up on sleep and snuck out of the dorm, slipping into the common room instead. The place was quiet, the greenish glow from the lake outside providing an eerie ambience. I sat down in front of the fire, the warmth of the flames doing little to ease the chill on my skin. I stared into the dancing flames, lost in thought. What was the boggart trying to show me? A fear of myself? A manifestation of some hidden darkness within? The questions swirled in my mind and I felt more lost than ever. 

 

The sound of footsteps brought me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see Sebastian emerging from the shadows, his face etched with concern. He moved silently across the room, his presence comforting me slightly… he could always read me like a book

 

“Couldn’t sleep either?” He asked softly, sitting beside me

 

I shook my head 

 

“No I can’t stop thinking about it”

 

He nodded, his eyes reflecting the firelight 

 

“Me neither. It’s been bothering me all day. I hate seeing you like this, Alora”

 

I sighed leaning back against the plush couch 

 

“I don’t understand it, why did it take that form?”

 

He reached out, taking my hand in his. His touch warm 

 

“Maybe it’s something you’re afraid to face? Something deep inside… but whatever it is, you don’t have to face it alone”

 

I looked into his eyes, grateful for the support 

 

“I know it’s just… unnerving. Seeing that version of myself, it felt so real. Like it could actually be me”

 

Sebastian’s grip tightened on my hand

 

“You’re stronger than you think, sweetheart. We’ll figure this out” 

 

For a moment, we sat in silence, the crackling of the fire the only sound. The warmth of Sebastian’s hand in mine brought a sense of comfort I hadn’t felt all day. He then moved closer, his gaze intense and filled with something deeper than concern 

 

“You’re not alone in this” he repeated slowly, his voice a whisper 

“I’ll always be here for you” 

 

His words touched something inside me, I leaned in, our faces inches apart 

 

“Thank you” I whispered back 

 

The air between us seemed to thicken, the tension palpable. He slowly leaned his head in as our lips met in a soft, tentative kiss. The world around us faded, my questions and fears momentarily forgotten. His hand cupped my cheek, the kiss deepening and becoming more urgent. His scent flooded my nose making me more relaxed, in that moment everything else disappeared. There was only Sebastian, his warmth, his touch, his presence. The kiss grew more passionate, our tongues exploring each other’s mouths gently. Everything seemed to melt away in the heat of the moment. 

 

When we finally pulled away, breathless, Sebastian rested his forehead against mine

 

“We’ll get through this, Alora,..Together” he murmured 

 

I nodded as I gave a small smile in response. For the first time that day I felt a sense of peace. Sebastian smiled back, a glint of excitement in his eyes

 

“There’s something I wanted to ask you” he said, his tone shifting slightly 

“Hopefully it’ll take your mind off things”

“What is it?” I asked curiously 

“There’s the Halloween party coming up next week, obviously our house is holding it. I wanted to ask if you’d give me the honour of joining me, I think it might be a good distraction for you” he explained, his eyes twinkling with anticipation 

 

Fucking hell another party? It only seems like yesterday since the last one! Each party gets progressively wilder for me as well, so it seems. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit scared for this one. I sighed thinking about his words, maybe this would be a good distraction for now? A smile tugged at my lips

 

“How could I forget about the Halloween party?” I spoke sarcastically 

 

The boy grinned at me, his expression infectious 

 

“We can get dressed up, drink, dance, and forget all of this for while. What do you say?”

 

I felt a surge of excitement at the prospect 

 

“Yes Sebastian, I will go with you”

 

His face lit up, his smile resembling a Cheshire cats 

 

“Perfect. It’s a date then”

Chapter 24: What’s love without tragedy?

I found myself studying in the dimly lit corner of the library this Wednesday afternoon. The autumn sunlight filtered through the arched windows, casting warm golden patches on the wooden floors. The scent of old parchment paper and ink filled the air around me, mingling with the faint smell of polished oak. Shelves filled with books towered around me, creating a labyrinth of knowledge and history that I was yet to learn. Nestled in my cozy nook, I had my study materials spread across the mahogany table in front of me. The rustle of pages and the occasional soft whisper were the only sounds that disturbed the tranquil silence, as I prepared for my NEWTS.  

 

I was doing everything I could to drown out the memory of my boggart, hence why I threw myself back into my studies. The sheer thought of that day still sends a shiver down my spine, but I was forcing myself to focus on the text in front of me. My exams were approaching fast, and I couldn't afford to let my mind wander anymore. No matter how hard I tried though, the memory of the boggart was still there, creeping back into my thoughts. What did it mean? Am I truly afraid of myself? Do I have some underlying anxiety about my future or something? Come on Alora, Focus! I was having a mental argument inside my head when the scratch of a chair being pulled out broke my reverie. I glanced up to see Gareth Weasley settling down next to me, his familiar red hair slightly disheveled. Fuck, what could he want? I hadn't spoken to him since the Gryffindor party, and even less now that he was courting Imelda. 

 

"Hey Alora" He spoke, breaking through my thoughts 

"Hi Gareth" I replied, trying to muster a smile 

"What brings you here?"

 

The boy sighed, running a hand through his messy curls 

 

"I need some advice" he asked in a serious tone

 

I kept silent and just stared at him, I wasn't used to him being this serious so it took me a moment to formulate a response 

 

"It's about Imelda" he added before I could reply

 

Of course it is. My smile faltered slightly, Imelda and I hadn't spoke since she stormed off on me at the bridge. The past week there had been some tension in the dorm as we hadn't really said a word to each other. I probably should try and speak to her, but she was just so stubborn and I'd been so caught up in my own problems, we just haven't had the right moment to speak about things properly

 

"What about her?" I questioned 

"I was thinking about taking her on a date, but a good one" he said, his eyes brightening with enthusiasm 

"Was a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks not good enough?" I joked, remembering his offer at the start of the year 

 

The boy gave me a lopsided smile as he recalled the day in potions class 

 

"Very funny" he playfully nudged his elbow with mine 

"I want to make it special for her, so she knows I'm serious about her"

 

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. Gareth being Gareth, he was clearly oblivious to the drift between Imelda and me, and a part of me wished he left me out of this. But another part of me knew that he deserved my honesty and help. I also thought It was the least I could do after Sebastian and I had christened his bed, luckily the pair were still blissfully unaware of that 

 

"Well" I began slowly, choosing my words carefully 

"Imelda loves flying, maybe you could... I don't know, plan something that involves quidditch or her broom"

 

He nodded eagerly at my words 

 

"Like what?"

 

I racked my brain, trying to push past the slight bitterness I had against the girl 

 

"She's always talking about how much she loves night flying. Maybe you could take her for a moonlit flight around the grounds. You could even set up a little spot with her favourite snacks and drinks for after"

 

The boys face lit up 

 

"That's a bloody brilliant idea! Thanks Alora, you're really good at this!"

 

I forced a smile, feeling a mix of emotions 

 

"I'm glad I could help" 

 

Noticing the change in my tone, Gareth hesitated for a moment before leaning forward. His expression turning more serious 

 

"Are you alright? You seem... a bit off"

 

I sighed, looking away

 

"I've just had a lot on my mind lately, with the NEWTS and stuff.." I lied 

 

Gareth frowned, genuine concern showing in his eyes 

 

"I um, heard about your DADA lesson.."

 

My eyes darted to his, my body stiffening slightly 

 

"Oh.. yeah that was erm, overwhelming too"

 

He leaned in closer, his voice lowering

 

"Your boggart... what was it?"

 

I hesitated but then decided to be honest, there was no point in lying if the news was already travelling around the school

 

"It was me... An evil version of me I guess?" 

 

The red heads face turned to a mixture of shock and surprise 

 

"Woah, that sounds... scary" 

"Yeah" I replied softly

"It made me think a lot about myself, about my fears... what I might turn into"

 

The boy reached his hand across the table, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze 

 

"You're one of the kindest people I know Alora, you won't become that person" he smiled warmly at me

 

I nodded towards him, feeling a bit lighter from his words

 

"Thanks Gareth, that means a lot to me"

 

He smiled back, the familiar warmth returning to his eyes 

 

"Anytime. And seriously thanks for the advice, Imelda's going to love it"

 

With that the boy got up and left. I watched as he walked briskly through the library, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. The encounter with the boggart still lingered in my mind, but Gareth's words had given me a small spark of hope that I could hold onto. Hopefully I'll be able to figure all this out and maybe, just maybe I can find a way to mend the rift with Imelda too. 

 

Just as I was about to turn back to my books, I saw Poppy and Ominis walking into the library together. I smiled to myself as I watched them from across the room, they hadn't noticed me as they were too engrossed in their conversation with one another. Poppy had her arm interlinked with Ominis' as they strolled to an empty table together. Her laugh was like a gentle melody that blended in with the soft whispers of the library, I could see the boy had a smile on his face as they walked, their chat must have gone better than expected. The world felt like it had stopped in its place as I was seeing them together properly, for the first time. It was clear that they found comfort in one another, and it warmed my heart to see them both look so happy. The serpent and the badger.. who'd of thought?

 

 

———————————————————

 

 

"You've got to be joking me?" I grumbled, staring at the costumes he laid out with a flourish, like they were some grand prize 

"What? I thought you'd like it?" Sebastian laughed, a low teasing sound that made me want to either smack him or kiss him - or maybe both

"Romeo and Juliet? Really?" 

"Oh come on Alora, it's perfect! Tragic romance, timeless love ... you love all that muggle stuff" 

 

I narrowed my eyes at him

 

"No I love actual tragic romance, not playing dress up for a Slytherin party. And don't think I don't know why you picked this"

 

He feigned innocence, his honey brown eyes twinkling at me 

 

"Why, whatever do you mean?"

 

I crossed my arms over my chest

 

"You only want me in that dress because it'll practically push my tits up to my chin!"

 

He didn't deny it, in fact his grin widened 

 

"Well, it is a nice bonus. But really Alora, you'll look stunning. Mr Hill did a really good job on these.. imagine the look on everyone's faces when they see us!"

 

I rolled my eyes 

 

"Sebastian I'm grateful you went to the effort to get these made for us, but couldn't we have gone as something less... cliché?" 

 

He stepped closer, his hands finding my waist

 

"You know, sometimes cliches are fun. Besides, I thought you might enjoy being my Juliet for the night"

"Oh please, you just want to play the gallant Romeo swooping in to rescue the damsel in distress" 

 

He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered

 

"Maybe, but I thought you liked my swooping"

 

I tried to maintain my scowl, but it was hard when he was this close 

 

"You're impossible" 

"And yet, you're still here" he murmured, pressing a kiss on my cheek

"Come on Alora do it for me, it'll be fun I promise"

 

I huffed looking at the dress again. It was lovely, in a way that I wish I didn't know it was designed to accentuate every curve I had. But with the way Sebastian was looking at me, a mix of charm and mischief, I knew I was going to give in. I always did

 

"Fine" I said, as he practically beamed

"But if I end up tripping over this dress and making a fool of myself, I'm blaming you"

"Deal" he agreed, pulling me into a hug

"You're going to make the most beautiful Juliet anyone has ever seen!"

 

I couldn't help but smile against his shoulder 

 

"And you'll be the most ridiculous Romeo"

"Ridiculously handsome, you mean" he quipped and I laughed despite myself 

"Don't push it" I warned, but it was half-hearted at best

 

Sebastian's excitement was infectious and deep down, I was a little excited too. Not about the dress, but about the night itself. And about him, always him. 

 

"Now" he said, pulling back and giving me a once over 

"Let's try these on and make sure they fit perfectly. We've got a party to impress"

 

I groaned but I took the dress

 

"You owe me for this"

"Oh don't worry sweetheart, you know I'll always make it worth your while" he promised, winking at me

 

I rolled my eyes again, though I couldn't suppress the smile that was on my face. Hopefully Sebastian was right, and this will be the distraction I needed from the past week I've had.

 

 

———————————————————

 

 

The castle corridors were buzzing,  filled with students chattering animatedly about their costumes, plans for the night and just genuine excitement for Halloween. The day seemed to fly by in a blur of classes and whispered conversations, and before I knew it, I was back in my dorm staring at the Juliet costume hanging from my wardrobe door. 

 

"You're going to look great Alora!" Violet squealed from the other side of the room

 

Priscilla, Violet and myself were getting ready together. Imelda on the other hand, had gotten ready earlier and started to help get the common room ready for the night, probably to avoid being in the dorm with me no less.

 

Taking a deep breath, I took the dress off the hanger and began to put it on

 

"Please tell me if I look ridiculous" I sighed

 

I slipped into the dress, tightening the corset at the back, and it fit me like a glove, hugging my curves in all the right places. The cream coloured fabric shimmered slightly in the light, adorned with delicate gold embroidery and tiny gems that caught the light with every movement. I decided to curl my hair into loose waves, the soft curls framing my face in a way I hadn't tried before. I decided to go the extra mile and add little gems throughout my hair, matching the ones on my dress. I also opted for a more subtle makeup look, not anything too bold so that it didn't take away from the extravagant dress I was wearing. I definitely felt different that's for sure. Once complete, I finally took a glance at myself in the mirror and couldn't help but smile at my reflection. For once, I felt like the heroine in one of those tragic romances I adored.

 

"You look like a real life princess Alora" Priscilla spoke, she sounded so genuine I couldn't help but smile at myself even more in the mirror 

 

In complete awe of my appearance, a knock on the door pulled me out from my thoughts 

 

"Come in" I called 

 

The door opened slowly to reveal Sebastian on the other side. Dressed as Romeo, of course. He looked every bit the dashing hero in his elaborate costume. For a moment, he was silent, his eyes wide as he took me in

 

"Wow.. Alora" he breathed, his voice filled with genuine awe 

"You look breathtaking"

 

I felt a blush creeping up on my cheeks

 

"Thank you.. you don't look too bad yourself"

 

He grinned, the cheekiness returning

 

"I knew you'd clean up nice, but this.. well, I'm glad I convinced you. We're going to be the stars of the party" 

"Don't remind me" I muttered, suddenly feeling nervous about the attention we might attract 

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Absolutely" he said confidently, stepping closer taking my hand

"Trust me Alora, it's going to be great! Now.. let's go make our grand entrance, shall we?" he smirked 

 

I nodded, squeezing his hand for reassurance. We slowly made our way to the common room where the party was already in full swing. As we stepped into the entrance, it felt like the room fell silent, and all eyes were on us. After a few seconds, a voice was heard somewhere in the crowd 

 

"Romeo and Juliet have arrived!" Milo announced jokingly to the room

 

A few whistles and cheers could be heard, mainly from the Slytherin quidditch team. I forced a smile as best as I could, my heart pounding in my chest. The room then erupted in applause as we made our way down the steps, I clung onto Sebastian's arm feeling exposed and overwhelmed. 

 

"Sebastian, this is a lot more attention than I was expecting" I whispered 

 

He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear

 

"You're doing great, just breathe. We'll go get some drinks, okay?"

 

I nodded, letting him guide me through the crowd to the refreshment table. He grabbed two goblets of what could only be one of Gareth's concoctions, and handed me one of them

 

"To surviving our first Halloween party as Romeo and Juliet" he toasted, clinking his goblet with mine 

 

I laughed, some of my tension easing

 

"To surviving" I agreed, taking a sip

 

The drink was sweet and fizzy, it was quite refreshing actually, considering Gareth had made it. I felt a bit more grounded anyways after tasting it

 

"You know" the boy said, leaning casually against the table 

"I wasn't kidding when I said you'd be the most beautiful Juliet anyone had ever seen. Just look around - everyone's in awe of you"

 

I glanced around the room and noticed the admiring looks and nods of approval from the other students, some glances more genuine than others, but I tried to ignore that for now

 

"I suppose you might be right" I admitted, feeling a bit more confident 

"Might be?" He chuckled 

"I'm always right darling"

 

 

———————————————————

 

 

The party continued and Sebastian and I found ourselves getting caught up in the revelry. The drinks had a strong kick to them, as expected with anything Gareth made, and right now I was feeling all warm and giddy. Sebastian, with his arm around my waist was equally as tipsy, his laughter loud and infectious 

 

"Come on, let's see what's going on by the fireplace" he suggested, pointing to a group of people gathered in a tight circle 

"Okayyyy!" I agreed

 

The idea of a change of scenery sounding good. We made our way through the crowd, he practically dragged me through the room as I was giggling, making me stumble slightly in my dress. As we approached, we saw that the group of people consisted of most of our friends: Violet, Noah, Priscilla, Ellis, Milo, Gareth & Imelda, along with a few others. They all sat around an empty bottle of butterbeer 

 

"Sallow! Alora! Join us!" Noah called out, Wavering us over

"We're playing truth or dare"

 

Sebastian grinned and tugged me down to sit beside him

 

"Alright, but what's with the goblet?" He asked, pointing to the silver cup in the middle of the circle 

 

Priscilla smirked 

 

"That, my dear Romeo, is our little twist. If you pick truth, you have to drink from the goblet first"

 

I raised an eyebrow 

 

"Why?"

 

Ellis chuckled 

 

"You'll see. Now, are you in or not?"

 

Sebastian and I exchanged glances, but he was already nodding enthusiastically 

 

"We're in!" He declared, and I sighed knowing there's no turning back now

 

"Great!" Ellis responded, reaching out to spin the bottle

 

It twirled around a few times before finally stopping to point at Cressida Bloom

 

"Truth or dare?" 

 

Cressida grinned

 

"Dare"

"I dare you to kiss Leander" Ellis said with a wicked smile

 

The girls grin quickly faded and a groan escaped her mouth. Leander had what could only be described as a smug expression on his face, he was probably excited about receiving the first kiss he would have all year, or all his life maybe. Cressida rolled her eyes at the thought of kissing him, but quickly shuffled her way over grabbing the boy by his shoulders. She planted a firm kiss on the Gryffindor's lips, the group whistling and clapping her on as she did so. The kiss was over in seconds before she pulled away and took her spot back in the circle 

 

"Done" she spoke sarcastically whilst spinning the bottle herself

 

The game continued on and with more truths revealed and dares performed, the room was becoming a bit of a blur of laughter and teasing. It was now Milo's turn to spin the bottle after performing his dare to the rest of us, and lo and behold it landed on none other than the now very drunk Sebastian. Shit. 

 

"Truth of dare" the beater asked 

 

Sebastian smirked 

 

"Truth" 

"Ooo brave man" he teased as he handed Sebastian the goblet

"Drink up mate"

 

The boy snatched the goblet, taking a gulp, his eyes twinkling with mischief 

 

"Alright, hit me with it" 

 

Milo tapped his chin, thinking for a moment 

 

"What the most outrageous thing you've done in the castle recently?" 

 

Sebastian's smile got wider as he turned to look at me momentarily, I didn't like the face he was making at all, this couldn't be good

 

"Well.. I did sleep with Alora in Weasley's bed at the Gryffindor party, would that be classed as outrageous?" He laughed 

 

A stunned silence fell over the group. My face grew paler as I felt all the blood drain out of it, trying to process what the fuck he just said. I quickly looked around and felt the weight of everyone's gaze on me as their faces turned heavy and accusing. Gareth's face turned a dark shade of red as he stood up abruptly 

 

"You did what?!"

 

Imelda, who was sitting next to him was equally as pissed 

 

"In his bed? Seriously Alora!!"

 

My cheeks were burning hotter than the sun at this point 

 

"Sebastian you idiot!" I hissed, smacking his arm

"Why the fuck did you just say that?!"

"I-I'm sorry Alora, I didn't mean to! It- it just slipped out!" He stammered, realising too late the gravity of his confession 

 

I thought for a moment, Sebastian promised he'd never mention that to anyone.. I know he was quite drunk right now, but he wouldn't just spill that sort of information loosely for a game. I quickly grabbed the goblet he drunk out of and inspected its contents. I was met with what looked like a cup of water

 

"What is this?" I asked urgently 

"Veritaserum" Violet replied sheepishly 

 

I think my heart stopped beating for a second as Violet gave me an answer. For once I was lost for words, I tried to think of any excuse to fix this but it was too late, the damage was done. There was definitely no getting out of this one. Gareth's hands quickly balled into fists at his sides 

 

"Sallow you son of a bitch! What the fuck do you think you're playing at! And YOU Alora! I thought we were friends?" 

 

Imelda stood up, crossing her arms over her chest 

 

"This is unbelievable! How could you?!"

 

If there was a moment I wanted to die, right now would be it. I wanted nothing more than the ground the swallow me up whole, and take me away from this situation right here. I looked desperately around the circle, trying to find some way to diffuse the tension 

 

"Gareth, Imelda, I'm really sorry. It was a mistake, it won't happen again.. we weren't thinking!"

 

Gareth shook his head, his anger still palpable 

 

"Damn right it won't happen again! It's disgusting!"

 

The circle had gone from festive to uncomfortable in the span of seconds, I felt a wave of humiliation wash over me. I turned to Sebastian, my voice low and shaking 

 

"You've really done it this time"

"I know Alora, it wasn't my fault.. the serum-"

"Save it" I cut him off, standing up 

"You've said enough"

 

I downed the rest of my drink and walked away, leaving Sebastian on his own. I probably shouldn't have left him, but right now I didn't care, I needed to put some distance between us. I needed to be left alone. 

 

 

———————————————————

 

 

Some time had passed and I decided to head to the girls bathroom to freshen up before going back to find Sebastian. As I strode off, the sounds of the party seemed to fade into the background. The corridors became quieter, the echoes of the party lingering behind me as I headed towards the bathroom. I turned a corner and started walking up the steps when a group of younger students rushed past me, their laughter loud and carefree. One of them brushed against my dress, causing me to trip on the stone steps. I managed to catch myself, but it left me feeling even more frazzled.

 

I was so focused on steadying myself that I didn't even notice the pair of feet in my path, until it was too late. I stumbled again, this time falling forward, but before I hit the ground, a pair of strong hands grabbed my waist, pulling me swiftly down into their lap

 

"Woah there, Juliet. You alright?" A familiar voice said

 

My heart raced, I looked up and found myself face to face with someone wearing a Sanguine mask. I squinted my eyes trying to see who the person was, but I couldn't tell. I lifted my hand slowly reaching out for the mask, my fingers delicate as I uncovered the person behind it. My movements were slow, until eventually my eyes met Hector's. Realisation soon set in, I was now sitting on his lap on a bench hidden in one of the alcoves, his eyes twinkling with amusement. His grip on my waist was firm, and for a moment I was too stunned to speak

 

"Hector" I breathed, trying to steady myself 

"I'm fine. Just.. not looking where I was going, clearly"

 

He smirked, his hands lingering a bit too long on my waist

 

"I didn't expect to see you here"

"This is my common room, of course I'd be here" I replied, a hint of sarcasm in my tone 

 

The boy chuckled dryly 

 

"I meant in my lap, Alora" the smirk still evident on his lips 

 

My breath hitched slightly 

 

"Oh yeah.. right, thanks by the way.. for catching me"

"It's no problem. Although, I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be Romeo that saves the damsel in distress" he joked 

 

I let out a small laugh, trying to ease to awkward tension around us

 

"Yeah.. I just needed some air"

 

The boys gaze seemed focused on my chest for a moment before replying smoothly

 

"Well, it seems your dress didn't fare too well"

 

I glanced down and realised the top of my corset was slightly ripped. The fabric strained from my earlier stumble. Before I knew it, Hector reached out, his fingers brushing against my chest as he touched the torn fabric. The contact sent a shiver through me, and I felt my face heat up

 

"Here, let me fix this" he said, his voice low and slightly slurred 

 

The boy had definitely had a few drinks, his movements were slower and more deliberate 

 

"It's fine, really" I protested weakly 

 

But the Ravenclaw ignored me, his fingers lingering on the ripped fabric, brushing gently against my skin as he tried to hold it together somewhat 

 

"The dress is too nice to leave torn"  he spoke softly, studying the damage 

 

His hand left my chest momentarily before it was reaching for his boot, he pulled out his wand and murmured a spell. In the blink of an eye, the material had sewn itself back together and the tear was repaired

 

"There we are" he smiled warmly at me 

 

Again I just sat there, too stunned to respond. The boys eyes lingered on me once more as he spoke softly 

 

"You look... beautiful"

 

His words caught me off guard, and again I didn't know how to respond. The air between us felt thick, charged with an unfamiliar tension. I could feel my body growing hotter under his touch, my mind racing with a mixture of confusion and something I couldn't quite name

 

"Hector, I.." I began, but he cut me off, his eyes locking onto mine

 

"You know, I never understood why you chose Sebastian over me" his tone flirty with an edge of bitterness 

"But seeing you now.. maybe I should have tried harder" 

 

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the fluttering in my stomach 

 

"I'm sorry... for how everything turned out"

 

He chuckled softly, his fingers tracing the now repaired fabric 

 

"Don't apologise, but I can't help but wonder what could have been"

 

I stood up, needing to break the contact but I stood up too fast and my balance was unsteady. Hector stood up his hands gripped firmly on my waist to keep my from falling again, his presence suddenly feeling overwhelming 

 

"You don't need to rush off, we're just talking"

 

The way he was looking at me, the way his hands were placed on my hips it was all too much. He moved closer and he was about to speak before he was being violently yanked away from me 

 

"Don't you dare fucking touch her!!"

 

Sebastian’s face twisted with fury, before I could even process what was happening his fist connected with Hector’s face. The sound was sickening as the boy stumbled back, a look of shock and pain crossing his features. But Sebastian didn’t stop there, he lunged at Hector again, landing punch after punch, his rage unchecked 

 

“Sebastian stop!” I screamed, my voice echoing through the corridor 

“Stop it, you’re hurting him!” 

 

But Sebastian didn’t hear me. He was too consumed by his anger. His fists continued to pummel into Hector, who was now on the floor,  trying to shield himself from the blows

 

“Sebastian please!” I begged, grabbing his arm in a desperate attempt to pull him off

 

Finally Sebastian paused, his chest heaving as he glared down at Hector. I looked down and saw how badly beaten the Ravenclaw was, blood was streaming from his nose and he had a large cut above his eye. I felt sick. Sebastian leaned down grabbing a fist full of Hector’s shirt in his hand, viscously pulling him off the floor slightly. His voice low and deadly as he spoke 

 

“If you ever touch her again, mark my words Fawley… I’ll fucking kill you” 

 

He then threw the boy back to the ground unmercifully, his body landing on the cold stone floor making one final thud. A groan escaped his mouth as the pain of his injuries was evident. I pulled Sebastian away as a group of people rushed around Hector to take him to the hospital wing, my heart beating in my chest

 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” I shouted, my own anger flaring 

“You can’t just go around beating people up!”

“He was all over you!” Sebastian snapped, his eyes still burning with anger 

“I wasn’t going to let him get away with that!”

“He was helping me!” I yell back, my own frustration boiling over

“I tripped over this ridiculous dress and he caught me!”

 

His eyes widened slightly as he processed my words, but his anger didn’t abate 

 

“I don’t care, he’s not going anywhere near you and you should know better than to be speaking to him!” 

 

I’d had enough of this conversation. I let out an annoyed sigh, and began to walk off, I couldn’t even look at him right now

 

“Ohhh no,no, no! You don’t get away that easy!”

 

Of course Sebastian was pulling me right back, his grip firm on my wrist, my eyes met with his as I responded sarcastically 

 

“Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it?”

“Trust me darling, you don’t want to play games with me”

 

Shocked by his audacity, I bit back 

 

“You can’t just tell me what I can and can’t do Sebastian!” 

 

The boy pulled me into him, his hands now firmly on my waist, eyes locked onto mine. His voice a low growl as he spoke 

 

“You listen to me. Your eyes are mine, your lips are mine, and that pretty little cunt of yours… is mine” 

 

I felt a shiver run down my spine at his words, and it took everything in me to stay angry. For a moment, something flickered in his eyes, but then his jaw set stubbornly

 

“I can’t lose you” 

“Well keep this up, and you’re going to” I warn pulling free from his grasp 

“I need some space” 

With that, I turned and walked away. Leaving him stood there for the second time that night.

Chapter 25: The arrangement

Notes:

“I will always love you
Even from a distance
Even in the arms of someone else”
- D.C

 

The Room of Requirement was quiet - too quiet. The silence had a weight to it, pressing against my chest, making it hard to breathe. I sought out the room for some solitude, a place to hide from the aftermath of the Halloween party. There was no way I could sleep in my dorm after last night, the awkward tension would have cut through me like a knife. I wasn't ready to face that, not just yet anyway. Now, as I sat crossed-legged on the edge of the bed, I couldn't help but feel the solitude creeping up on me, wrapping around me like a suffocating blanket. 

 

My thoughts were a tangled mess, but they kept circling back to the same moments of last night, replaying them in my mind like a broken record. Sebastian's face twisted in anger, Hector crumpled on the ground under his fists, the sickening sound of bone hitting bone. I didn't stop him. I couldn't stop him. And now, I'm sat here trying to make sense of it all while Imelda's voice still rung in my ears, accusing and full of fury. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the memory of her glare, the way she spat out her words at me. She was angrier than ever, and I couldn't even blame her. My mind went back and forth between her and Sebastian... seeing him like that was like seeing him after he murdered Solomon, a memory I wish I could forget. 

 

A soft pop startled me, I looked up to see Deek stood by the door. The house elf looked as somber as I felt, his large round eyes filled with concern 

 

"Miss Alora, Deek has brought food as you asked"  he said quietly, holding out a tray laden with sandwiches, fruit and a steaming cup of tea

 

I forced a smile, though it felt brittle

 

"Thank you, Deek. I just... I didn't feel like going down to the great hall today" 

 

Deek nodded, his ears drooping slightly

 

"Deek understands. It is a heavy day, Miss Alora, Deek is here to help you In any way"

 

I took the tray from him, setting it beside me on the bed

 

"I appreciate it Deek, I really do"

 

My voice sounded distant, even to my own ears 

 

"I just need some time alone I guess"

 

Deek hesitated, his small hands wringing together 

 

"If Miss Alora wishes to be alone, Deek will leave. But Deek wonders if Miss Alora is alright?"

 

Was I alright? I wasn't even sure if I knew what that meant anymore. I glanced at the tray, the steam from the tea curled into the air like a ghost. The smell of chamomile was soothing, but it did little to ease the knot in my stomach

 

"No, Deek, I'm not alright" I admitted quietly, the words slipping out before I could stop them

"I don't think I've been alright for a while"

 

Deek's eyes widened, he took a cautious step closer 

 

"Deek is sorry to hear this. But Deek thinks Miss Alora is strong. Miss Alora has faced many difficult things, this is just another one"

 

I sighed, running a hand through my hair

 

"Maybe. But it's hard, Deek. It's hard when someone you care about does something ... awful"

 

Deek nodded, his expression serious 

 

"Deek understands. Miss Alora is wise to take time. Deek will bring you more food later if Miss Alora needs it. And if Miss Alora needs to talk... Deek is here"

 

I gave him a grateful look

 

"Thank you Deek. That means a lot"

 

With a final nod, Deek popped away, leaving me alone once more. The room felt colder In his absence, the silence more oppressive. I pulled the tray closer, picking up a sandwich and taking a bite, though I could hardly taste it. My mind drifted back to Sebastian, to the way his eyes blazed with something dark and uncontrollable and it reminded me of what Ominis had told me that day I found the necklace in the undercroft. Was his paranoia coming back? Surely that wasn't possible after being obliviated.. unless this was a different kind of paranoia he was experiencing. He'd always been quick to anger, always protective to a fault and sure, I saw him take away his uncles life, but this... this was different. This was violence, pure and simple. Sebastian had changed, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it.

 

I pushed the tray away, my appetite gone. I'd been in here for hours, pretending to study, but really, I've just been hiding. Hiding from the world, hiding from my friends, from the truth I didn't want to face. I'd been reading the same paragraph in my potions book over and over, and none of it was sinking in. Maybe it was because my mind kept drifting back to Sebastian, to the way he looked at me after the fight, like he was waiting for me to say something, to do something

 

But what could I have said? What could I have done?

 

I didn't know how to be around him right now. I don't even know if I could. Maybe it was selfish, but I needed space. Space to think, to breathe, to figure out what to do next. This room had always been a place of refuge for me, a place I could escape to when things got too overwhelming. But today, it felt more like a prison. I picked up my book again, forcing myself to focus on the words, on something other than the storm raging inside me. But no matter how hard I tried I couldn't shake the image of Sebastian's fury, of Hector lying battered and broken on the ground. I cared about Sebastian so much, why did he have to do this? Who even was that person last night? 

 

I don't know... I just don't know

 

 

————————————————————

 

 

Eventually I left the Room of Requirement. The sun had long set, and the castle corridors were silent, save for the occasional flicker of torchlight and the soft tapping of stone beneath my feet. I felt a heavy weight in my chest as I made my way to the hospital wing. I couldn't get the image of Sebastian's furious expression out of my head. The way his fists connected with Hector's face and body over and over, as if the anger boiling inside him could never be quenched. Hector didn't deserve it, Merlin knew he didn't, I just couldn't believe how Sebastian lost control like that. And now, Hector lay in the hospital wing bruised and broken, while Sebastian awaited the consequences of his actions

 

I paused outside the door, taking a deep breath I slowly pushed it open. The familiar scent of antiseptic herbs hitting my nose as I stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the rows of neatly made beds. My eyes soon landed on Hector, he was propped up by pillows, he had a bandage across his forehead with his arm in a sling. He looked up as I approached, his eyes narrowing slightly before he forced a smile

 

"Alora" he greeted, his voice smooth but with a hint of underlining tension 

"Come to check the damage your Romeo inflicted?" 

 

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady

 

"Hector, I'm so sorry for what happened. I ... I didn't think he would do such a thing" 

 

His smile widened, though it didn't reach his eyes 

 

"Oh, don't worry. I'm not mad at you. It's Sebastian who's the problem, isn't it? Always has been" 

 

I frowned, the hairs on the back of my neck prickled at the tone of his voice 

 

"Sebastian was angry, Hector. But he didn't mean-"

"Didn't mean to beat me to a pulp?" He interrupted, his smile fading 

"Maybe. But what he meant won't matter much when he's expelled" 

 

My breath caught in my throat

 

"Expelled? But... but they can't expel him for this! It was a fight, Hector, not a..."

 

He laughed, a cold, bitter sound that sent a chill down my spine 

 

"Not a crime? Oh Alora, you're so naive. Sebastian's outbursts have been building up for years. The professors are tired of his antics, and this - this was the final straw"

 

I felt the blood drain from my face, my heart pounding in my ears

 

"He can't be expelled, Hector. This is his final year.. our final year"

 

Hector's expression softened for a moment, almost pitying, before it hardened again 

 

"Well it seems his time at Hogwarts is coming to an end faster than he thought. Unless..." he trailed off, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light 

"Unless what?" I asked, dread curling in my stomach

 

The boy leaned forward, his voice lowering to a whisper 

 

"Unless you do something about it. I know about fifth year, Alora. I know everything"

 

My blood ran cold, what the fuck did he mean he knew everything!

 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Oh, come on now" he replied, his tone mocking 

"Did you really think I wouldn't find out? My father has quite the influence in the ministry, remember? It wasn't hard for him to uncover what really happened in that repository. You drained it, didn't you? You took all that ancient power for yourself. And let's not forget the little... casualties along the way. A few goblins here, a couple of Ashwinders there ... quite the body count, wouldn't you say?" 

 

I could barely breathe. My mind was racing, trying to figure out if he was bluffing, if he could possibly know the truth

 

"You're lying" I whispered, though my voice wavered 

 

He shook his head slowly

 

"Am I? I have the reports, Alora. Everything is neatly documented. All it would take is one owl to the right person, and you and Sebastian could be sharing a cell in Azkaban. How romantic!" 

 

My vision blurred with unshed tears, panic clawed at my insides. I forced myself to stay calm, to not give into the fear 

 

"What do you want?" I asked sternly 

 

Hector's expression darkened, a sinister smile curling on his lips 

 

"It's simple, really. You put a stop to whatever it is you have with Sebastian. Cut him out of your life completely and be with me. And in exchange, I keep my mouth shut" 

 

I recoiled, the very idea making me feel sick 

 

"You... you can't be serious. You want me to date you?"

"Think of it as an arrangement" he said smoothly 

"You decide to be with me, and no one ever finds out what happened. Sebastian never has to know, and you both get to continue your little lives without any more... disruptions" 

 

I stared at him, horror and revulsion churning in my gut. I couldn't do this. I couldn't betray Sebastian like that, not after everything we've been through together. But the thought of him being expelled, of the ministry finding out about the repository, about the countless people I killed... it was too much to bare

 

"And what if I say no?"

"Oh, Alora. I can assure you, if you want to keep Sebastian in this godforsaken school, you'll want to agree to our little arrangement" 

 

I hesitated at his words, trying one last time to call out his bluff 

 

"Y-you wouldn't?"

 

The boy leaned in closer, his hand grabbing my wrist and pulling me into him as he whispered 

 

"Oh believe me, I would" 

 

He slowly let go of my wrist and reclined back against his pillows, a smug look on his face 

 

"Think about it. But don't take too long. The professors make their decision soon, and once that's done, well... there won't be anything I can do from there"

 

For fuck sake! My mind was spinning as I searched desperately for a way out, but there was none. Not right now at least. Finally I nodded, feeling the last bit of hope drain out of me

 

"Fine" I whispered, my voice cracking 

"I'll... I'll do it" 

 

Hector's smile widened, victorious 

 

"Smart girl. I knew you'd see reason"

 

I got up and turned to leave, my heart heavy with despair, I vowed to myself that this wasn’t over. I was determined to find a way to fix this, but for now I had no choice but to play along

 

For now, I had to be his puppet

 

 

————————————————————

 

 

I didn’t sleep that night. My thoughts were a storm of fear and anger, guilt and helplessness. By the time the morning light began to seep through the cracks of the windows, I felt as though I had aged a lifetime. I wanted to run to Sebastian, to tell him everything. But how could I? He’d never forgive me. I can picture it now, the look on his face - the confusion, the hurt. He would never understand why I had to do this. And yet, what other choice did I have? 

 

Two days had gone by and I still hadn’t slept. The stress was eating me alive, gnawing at my insides until every second felt like it stretched thin, about to snap. Hector’s smug face haunted me in every shadow, every quiet moment. The weight of his threats, his control pressed on me like iron shackles that I couldn’t escape from. Sebastian could feel it, he’d been trying to reach out to me, every glance filled with worry and confusion, but I had to shut him out completely. My excuse of me needing space was wearing thin, and now I had to end it… and I knew it was going to destroy me

 

I found him in the courtyard after class, leaning against one of the stone pillars, scanning the crowd. His face lighting up the moment he saw me, and my heart twisted painfully. He pushed himself off the pillar, moving towards me with purpose, his eyes dark with concern. I knew he’d been worrying about me, and the guilt was suffocating. I could barely look him in the eye, knowing what I had to do

 

“Alora” he called out as I approached 

“You’ve been avoiding me for days, what’s going on? Can we talk?”

 

I clenched my jaw, my heart hammering in my chest. I couldn’t let him see how terrified I was. I couldn’t let him see the agony ripping through me. I forced myself to harden my expression, to look him in the eye and say the words that would shatter us both 

 

“I can’t do this anymore, Sebastian” I said coldly, my voice flat, void of emotion

 

He stopped dead in his tracks, his face falling in disbelief 

 

“What? … Alora, what are you talking about?”

 

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms to stop myself from crying 

 

“I’m done, Sebastian. I don’t want anything to do with you. I don’t want to be around you, I don’t want to be friends with you, and I certainly do not want to be with you” 

 

He stared at me as if I had just crucio’d him, his brows furrowing in confusion 

 

“What? You can’t mean that. You’re just upset, I get it but you can’t-”

“I do mean it” 

 

I cut him off, my voice shaking slightly as I forced myself to keep going, to make it as brutal as possible 

 

“You’re toxic. All you do is bring chaos and destruction wherever you go. I’m done with it, I’m done with you”

 

His eyes widened in shock, and I could see the anger slowly building beneath the surface. His fists clenched at his sides, as his face contorted with hurt and fury

 

“That’s not true, you know it’s not true! I’m trying to fix things, Alora. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for-”

“For yourself!” I snapped, my voice rising with emotion I could no longer keep in check 

“You’ve been so obsessed with getting what you want, you never cared about the consequences. You never cared about me!”

“That’s a lie!” He shouted, his eyes blazing with rage now

“How can you even say that after everything!”

 

I looked away, unable to meet his eyes anymore. If I looked at him, I’d break. And I couldn’t break. Not now. Not when Hector had us both cornered 

 

“You’ve only made my life worse, Sebastian” I spat, my words cruel and venomous

“You’re reckless, dangerous, and I’m not going to let you drag me down with you anymore” 

 

His face twisted with hurt and fury, his voice dropping low and dangerous

 

“That’s it then? You’re just going to throw everything away? After all this time you’re just going to walk away as if none of it ever mattered?”

“It didn’t” I said coldly, the lie twisting painfully inside me

“It never did”

 

I could see the fury boil over then, the hurt turning into something sharp and violent. His jaw clenched, and his hands were trembling, barely containing the storm brewing inside him 

 

“You’re lying!” He growled, stepping closer, his voice tight with rage

“You don’t mean any of this!”

“Believe whatever you want, Sebastian” I said quietly, forcing myself to take a step back

“But whatever this is, it’s over. I don’t want to be near you, I don’t even want to see you again” 

 

His face was a mask of anger and heartbreak. He stared at me, his chest rising and falling heavily, his eyes burning with a pain that mirrored my own. And then, without another word, he turned around and stormed off, his footsteps echoing angrily against the stone. As soon as he was out of sight, I felt the walls closing in around me. My chest constricted, and the dam I had been holding back had broke. Tears spilled down my cheeks as I collapsed onto a bench, burying my face in my hands. I had just torn the only good thing left in my life apart. I had destroyed him - destroyed us. And the worst part was that I couldn’t even tell him why. I sat there for what felt like hours, my body shaking with sobs, the sound of my heart breaking ringing in my ears. Everything felt so wrong, so horribly wrong. But I had no choice. I had to protect him, even if it meant destroying myself in the process 

 

The days that followed were a blur of misery. I felt like a ghost, drifting through the castle in a fog of despair. Everywhere I went, I could feel Sebastian’s absence like a gaping wound in my chest. The brief moments where I caught a glimpse of him, his face was hard and furious as he passed me in the corridors without a word. It felt like knives twisting in my gut. After a few days Hector was released from the hospital wing, and from then on, he was always there. He was always watching, always smirking as if he knew he’d won. I forced myself to be seen with him, to walk with him in the corridors, to sit with him at meals. I hated every second of it. His presence now made my skin crawl, his smug smile and predatory gaze a constant reminder of the chains I was now bound by

 

He would touch my shoulder as we walked, lean in too close when he spoke, and every time he did, I had to fight the bile rising in my throat. The whispers started quickly - students murmuring as they saw me with him, exchanging confused glances as I walked beside the very person Sebastian despised the most. Some of them even confronted me, asking why I was with Hector of all people. But I had no answers for them. I was drowning in the lie I had created. Every smile I forced in Hector’s presence, every moment I pretended to enjoy his company, chipped away at me until I barely recognised myself anymore. And all the while, Sebastian grew more distant, more furious. I saw it in the way he glared at me when we crossed paths in the halls, the way he clenched his jaw whenever he saw Hector by my side. He was seething, and I knew it was because of me. Because of the betrayal he couldn’t understand 

 

One day we passed each other in the courtyard, our eyes met for the briefest of moments. The fury in his gaze was like a blow to the chest, but beneath it, I could still see the hurt - the confusion, the pain I had caused. It nearly broke me all over again, but I forced myself to look away, to keep walking as though I didn’t care

 

But inside, I was screaming. 

Chapter 26: Just pretend

Notes:

*Slight TW, this chapter contains forced actions which some people may find uncomfortable*

 

I was drowning

 

Not in water, no - but in the dense, suffocating darkness that clung to me like tar. My chest heaved, desperate for air, but the weight of it all crushed deeper into despair. The aurors dragged me forward, their iron grip on my arms bruising and unyielding. I tried to move, to fight, but my limbs were sluggish, like I was wading through mud. My feet barely skimmed the ground, and I felt hollow inside, a puppet in someone else's twisted play. The courtroom loomed before me, an oppressive cathedral of stone and shadow. Massive stone pillars reached toward a ceiling I couldn't see, lost in a haze of gloom. Flickering torches cast jagged shadows across the faces of onlookers, their eyes cold and accusing. I could hear whispers, murmurs that sliced through me like knives

 

"Alora Winters... murderer"

 

I swallowed hard, my throat dry as dust. This isn't real, I told my self. It couldn't be. But the chains that shackled my wrists burned against my skin, and the fear... the fear was too raw, too present to be anything but real. My heart pounded in my ears, the sound almost drowning out the voice that called my name from the front of the room

 

"Alora Winters"

 

The Minister of Magic's voice boomed from the raised dais, his face half-obscured in the dim light. He was flanked by witches and wizards of high rank, their robes dark and heavy,  their expressions blank masks of judgment

 

"You stand accused of the murder of Anne Sallow. How do you plead?"

 

Murder. 

 

The word stabbed through me, a jagged blade twisting in my gut. I tried to speak, but my mouth felt like it was filled with sand. Murder? I hadn't meant to... I didn't know... my mind was racing, desperately clawing for a way out, a way to explain

 

"I-" my voice cracked, barely a whisper 

"I didn't ... I didn't mean to..."

 

Gasps rippled through the courtroom like a wave, crashing against me. Every pair of eyes seemed to bore into me. Condemning me with silent fury

 

"Didn't mean to?" The Minister's eyes gleamed with something between disbelief and disdain 

"Ancient magic was used recklessly. You are responsible for the death of an innocent. Do you deny this?"

 

I shook my head slowly, my thoughts spinning like a storm. I hadn't meant to kill her. My magic... it had been wild and uncontrollable. I only wanted to save her. I only wanted to save her 

 

"Please..." I managed to whisper, my voice cracking with desperation 

"It was an accident. It wasn't me... I didn't want to hurt her, I was trying to help her..."

"Help?" A cold laugh echoed from somewhere in the gallery, harsh and mocking

"You call that help?"

 

The words hung in the air like poison, curling around me, sinking into my skin. The chains tightened around my wrist, the weight dragging me down. It felt like I was being buried alive in front of everyone, and no one cared. Sebastian's face flashed in my mind - his scream, the raw pain in his voice when he realised what I had done. His eyes wide with horror, seared into my memory. My heart twisted painfully in my chest. I wanted to scream, to cry out, to make them understand I wasn't a monster. But the walls were closing in, suffocating me. The torches seemed to burn brighter, casting long menacing shadows across the faces of the witches and wizards in judgment

 

The Minister's voice cut through the tension 

 

"Enough!" He said 

"Alora Winters, you are found guilty of the murder of Anne Sallow"

 

The words hit me like a curse. I stumbled, my legs buckling beneath me as the room seemed to spin. This was it. The end. My throat tightened, and I forced myself to breathe, even though my lungs felt like they were collapsing

 

I was falling into darkness 

 

"For your crime" the Minister continued

"You are sentenced to a life in Azkaban"

 

I didn't register the gasps this time, or the murmurs. I didn't see the sea of faces anymore, didn't hear the shuffling of feet or the whispers of those around me. All I could feel was the cold emptiness that swallowed me whole, pulling me down into the abyss

 

Azkaban. 

 

The word echoed in my mind, a blow that shattered everything I had left

 

"Please..." I whispered again, my voice breaking, barely audible. I didn't even know who I was pleading to anymore. The Minister? The crowd? Myself? 

 

"Please"

 

But there was no answer, only silence. The aurors stepped forward again, taking hold of my arms and suddenly I gasped - my body jerking violently. 

 

The chains were gone. The cold was gone. My eyes flew open, and I found myself tangled in my sheets drenched in sweat. The room was dark, the dim light of dawn barely filtering through the window 

 

"Miss Alora?"

 

Deek's soft voice pierced through the remnants of my dream, gently pulling me back to the Room of Requirement. His big, kind eyes were full of concern as he stood at my beside, wringing his hands as he always did when he was worried. I forced myself to sit up, my body trembling despite the warmth of the room

 

"I'm ... i'm fine, Deek"

 

I whispered, though my voice wavered. I wasn't fine, far from it, but the last thing I wanted to do was burden him with what I'd just seen. The nightmare had felt so real- too real. The thought of Azkaban, the accusations, all because of Anne... standing in that courtroom, I shuddered involuntarily. No. It wasn't real, it couldn't be real. 

 

Deek climbed onto a nearby stool, bringing himself closer to eye level with me

 

"You've been having a lot of nightmares lately. Deek notices you're not yourself these days"

 

His voice was laced with the deep concern of someone who had grown far too familiar with my restlessness. I avoided his gaze, trying to shake off the lingering dread 

 

"It's nothing, Deek. Just ... stress, I suppose"

 

I ran a hand through my hair, my fingers catching in the tangles. Stress. What an understatement. He tilted his head slightly, his expression knowing 

 

"Deek believes it might be more than just stress. Ever since... you started spending time with that boy, Hector... you seem different"

 

My stomach twisted painfully at the mention of Hector. The very sound of his name sent a wave of disgust through me

 

"It's complicated, Deek"

 

I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper. How could I possibly explain that I was trapped in a fake relationship with someone so vile? Hector was unbearable, and everyday spent pretending with him felt like I was slowly suffocating. But I couldn't tell Deek that, not all of it

 

"You don't have to hide things from Deek" he said gently 

"You haven't been yourself for weeks. Deek is worried about you"

 

I sighed heavily, my chest tightening. Deek wasn't wrong - I hadn't been myself. How could I be when everyday I was forced to parade around with Hector, pretending I cared about him when all I wanted was to be as far away from him as possible? 

 

But I had no choice. I was doing this for Sebastian. 

 

"I'll be alright, Deek" I lied, forcing a weak smile 

"I just need to rest" 

 

 

———-————————————————

 

 

Divination was always a quiet class, the room filled with the heavy scent of incense, soft fabrics draped across the windows to filter the sunlight. Yet, today everything felt stifling, thick with unspoken tension. I could feel it the moment Hector sat down next to me, his usual smug grin plastered across his face as he draped his arm around my shoulders. His fingers grazed my skin, a possessive gesture meant for the rest of the class as much as for me

 

I tensed, trying to focus on Professor Onai's words at the front of the room, but the weight of Hector's arm made it impossible. His presence was like a chain, one that clung to me no matter how hard I tried to ignore it. The other students glanced our way, whispering behind their hands, but I could feel the one set of eyes I truly cared about. I didn't dare look at him - not yet, but I knew Sebastian was watching. I could always tell

 

Eventually, my gaze flickered to him. He was sitting a few tables over, slouched in that easy, careless way of his, eyes narrowing as he watched Hector's display. My heart pounded as our eyes met briefly, but then, just as quickly, he looked away, his face hardening into indifference. He turned to the girl beside him - Isabelle, I think - and smiled at something she said. That smile was meant to cut, and it did. A sharp sting, though I tried to shove it down. I forced myself to look back at Professor Onai, but the sight of Sebastian leaning towards Isabelle, the two of them talking and laughing quietly, burned in the back of my mind

 

"You alright there, Alora?"

 

Hector's voice was low in my ear, his fingers squeezing my shoulder, as if I needed reminding he was there, if anything I wanted to shrug him off, to yell at him for making everything worse. But all I managed was a tight lipped smile

 

"I'm fine"  I lied 

 

Of course I wasn't fine. I hadn't been for weeks, but I couldn't let anyone see that. Professor Onai's voice broke through my spiralling thoughts

 

"Class, today we'll be continuing our study of Tessomancy - reading tea leaves. Please pair up and try to interpret the patterns you see. Remember, the leaves can tell us much more if we look closely"

 

I could feel Hector's arm slide off my shoulders as he shifted closer to the small, ornate teacup in front of us 

 

"Obviously we're partners" he muttered, reaching for the cup with a cocky grin

"Don't worry, love. I'm sure I'll see something great in your future"

 

The word 'prick' came to mind as I rolled my eyes , but I said nothing. Focusing instead on the cup in front of me. The dark leaves clung to the sides, arranged in strange, intricate patterns, but my mind was too distracted to make sense of any of it. Across the room, Sebastian leaned in to speak to Isabelle, their heads bent close together, her soft laugh ringing out. I gripped the cup tighter, my jaw clenched. Focus. It's just tea leaves

 

Hector, oblivious as always, peered into my cup

 

"Hmm.. looks like you're in for something exciting soon. Maybe a bit of danger"

 

His tone was half mocking, as if the whole thing was a joke. Before I could respond, Professor Onai approached, her long robes sweeping the floor as she moved gracefully between the tables. Her sharp eyes took in each student with quiet intensity, and then she reached our table 

 

"May I?" She asked, holding her hand out for the cup

 

I nodded silently, feeling Hector shift beside me, his hand inching toward my knee under the table. I resisted the urge to pull away. Professor Onai's dark eyes scanned the tea leaves, her face unreadable as she studied them. She was silent for what felt like far too long, her brow furrowing slightly, the tip of her wand traced the outline of the leaves as she whispered something under her breath. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, but something about it made my heart skip 

 

"The leaves tell of conflict" she said slowly, her gaze flickering up to meet mine 

"A struggle...one that weighs heavily on you. But more than that... there's a decision that must be made soon. A choice that could change much" 

 

My stomach twisted uncomfortably as her words sank in. A decision? My mind immediately went to Hector, to Sebastian. To everything I had been hiding, to the lie I was living. Was that what she meant? 

 

"And" she continued, her voice quieter now, almost as if speaking to me alone

"There's something in the distance. Something hidden from view, but it draws closer" 

 

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. I could feel Hector watching me, but my eyes were locked onto Professor Onai's, searching for something, anything that would make sense of what she was saying 

 

"You will have to be strong" she added softly, her gaze lingering on me for just a moment longer before she straightened, handing the cup back to me

"Do not ignore what the tea leaves tell you, Alora"

 

As she moved onto the next table, I sat frozen. The weight of her words pressing down on me. Hector of course, seemed entirely unfazed 

 

"Well that was dramatic" he scoffed, leaning back in his chair, his arm once again finding its way around me

"Guess we'll have to see what all that's about, won't we?"

 

But I couldn't respond. Across the room Sebastian caught my eye for the briefest moment, and this time, he didn't look away. He stared at me, something unreadable in his expression, before turning back to Isabelle with that same, forced indifference 

 

I gripped the edge of the table, my mind spinning. I didn't know how much longer I could keep this up. 

 

 

———-————————————————

 

 

That evening I found myself wedged between Hector and Ciaran, the warmth of the Three Broomsticks mixed with the lively chatter felt suffocating. My mind wandered, the laughter around me distant and hollow. Hector had his arm resting lazily across my shoulders again, much like in Divination, as if I were some kind of accessory he just had to show off. His friends were loud, already a few drinks in, telling exaggerated stories about Quidditch matches and  discussing what countries they'll be spending Christmas and the New Year in. I smiled when expected, nodded at the right moments, but all I really wanted was to leave. The noise, the smell of firewhiskey, Hector's bragging - it was all getting too much

 

Then, the door opened with a gust of cold November air, and my heart skipped a beat. Sebastian walked in, flanked by Priscilla, Ellis, Noah & Violet. They were laughing, bundled up in scarves, cheeks flushed from the chilly night air. I watched them claim a table near the back, far enough from Hector and his group, but close enough that I could hear their laughter mixing with the rest of the room. Sebastian caught my eye for the briefest moment before looking away, but that single glance was enough to stir everything inside me. I should be with them, I thought, my stomach tightened with the realisation. That table, those friends - that used to be my world. Now I was stuck here, suffocating under Hector's arm, pretending to care about his drunken rambling 

 

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, distancing myself just a little from Hector. He noticed, of course. He always did 

 

"You've been acting weird all night" he slurred, leaning in closer. His breath reeked of firewhiskey

"What's your problem?"

"I'm fine" I muttered, forcing a weak smile  

 

He wasn't buying it. His eyes narrowed slightly, suspicion creeping into his expression 

 

"You're lying" his tone was low, accusing. 

"Is it because of them?" 

 

He jerked his head toward Sebastian and the others, his grip tightening on my shoulder. I stiffened, glancing quickly at their table. Sebastian wasn't looking over, not right now. I forced myself to sound calm

 

"No Hector it's not about them. I'm just going to get a drink, okay?"

 

The Ravenclaw's eyes darkened, frustration clear on his face 

"No, you're not going alone" he stood up abruptly, pulling me with him 

"I'll come with you"

"Hector, I just need a minute-"

"I said I'll come with you" he snapped 

 

His voice cut through the noise around us. Several heads turned in our direction, but I didn't argue. There was no point. We walked to the bar together, though my legs felt heavy, each step dragging with dread. I wanted nothing more than a few moments to myself, but Hector wouldn't allow it. As we approached the counter, I tried to ignore their table, tried not to think about how much I missed being with them - how much I missed them. Hector however, had no such restraint. His eyes flickered to Sebastian's group, narrowing in on Sebastian himself, who was now stealing glances in our direction. Suddenly, without warning, Hector's hand gripped my arm, pulling me closer

 

"What are you-" before I could finish the sentence, his lips crashed onto mine 

 

I froze, the world spinning for a moment as I registered what was happening. Hector's gripped was strong, his hand tightening around my waist, pulling me in so I couldn't escape. I tried to push him away but he was too strong, his kiss was forceful, possessive. It was nothing like how he kissed me that time in the Slytherin common room. The noise of the pub seemed to fade as my mind went blank, the only thing I could focus on was the smothering sensation of his lips on mine, the taste of firewhiskey burning on his breath. I struggled, my hands pushed against his chest, but he wouldn't let go, not until he wanted to

 

Just as suddenly as it had begun, he pulled away, but not before glancing over my shoulder - toward Sebastian. I gasped for breath, my heart pounding in my chest. The whole pub seemed to be staring now, but Hector didn't care. His eyes were dark, glinting with something cruel as he leaned in close, his lips brushing over my ear 

 

"Remember, you're mine now" he whispered, his voice low and menacing 

"Don't you fucking forget that"

 

A shiver ran down my spine, not from the cold but from the sheer weight of the threat in his words. I couldn't even bring myself to look at Sebastian, though I knew he'd seen. Everyone had seen. My skin crawled as Hector released me, that satisfied, smug grin plastered on his face once more. I felt trapped. The room around me blurred and for a moment I thought I was going to be sick. I had to get out. I could feel the weight of dozens of eyes on me, on us. I dared a glance over my shoulder, and there he was, Sebastian was frozen mid-conversation, staring at me. His jaw clenched so tight it was a wonder his teeth hadn't cracked. He didn't say a word, but the anger simmering beneath his cold exterior was unmistakable. And yet, I knew he wouldn't do anything, he wouldn't intervene 

 

I could feel myself getting worked up even more, my cheeks burned hotter than the sun as my eyes glassed over. I took a step back, Hector's arm slipped from my waist as I did so. He quickly grabbed my wrist instead, his grip tight, eyes narrowing

 

"Don't make a scene, Alora" he hissed, his voice low and dangerous

"We're having a good time, aren't we?"

 

I glanced around, the walls of the pub suddenly closing in on me

 

"Let me go" I spoke as firmly as I could 

 

For a long moment he stared at me. His jaw set as if he was deciding whether or not to make a bigger scene. My heart pounded in my chest, a part of me terrified of what he might do next. But finally, he let go of my wrist with a sharp jerk, stepping back just enough to give me space 

 

"Fine" he spat, his voice full of venom

"Piss off then" 

 

I didn't wait another second. Without looking back I turned and made my way through the crowd, my heart pounding in my ears. The cold night air hit me like a slap when I pushed open the door, but it was a welcome relief. For the first time all evening, I felt like I could breathe again. 

 

 

———-————————————————

 

 

The cool breeze of the castle grounds brushed against my skin as I made my way back towards the school. My mind was racing, my chest felt tight with frustration and something far heavier. The encounter with Hector had left me feeling on edge, and even though I’d escaped, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being trapped. I hurried across the grounds keeping my head down, hoping to avoid any other students on their way back from Hogsmeade. All I wanted was to retreat to the Room of Requirement, to breathe, to think. But before I could reach it, I collided with Poppy, who seemed surprised to see me as I was to see her

 

“Alora!” 

 

Poppy’s voice was breathless, a mix of relief and urgency. She looked like she’d been running all over the castle 

 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you”

“Looking for me?” I frowned 

“Why what’s up?” I took a step back to steady myself 

 

Poppy glanced around as if making sure no one was listening before reaching into her bag and pulling out an envelope. It was old, the parchment worn and yellowed at the edges

 

“This. I’ve been looking for you because I found this” she handed the envelope to me

 

I stared at it confused 

 

“A letter? What is this?”

“I was helping Ominis with his potions homework earlier” The Hufflepuff explained quickly, her voice hushed

“He asked me to grab some parchment from his bag, and while I was looking, I found this … with your name on it” 

 

I blinked, taking a better look at the letter. The parchment was rough beneath my fingers, the handwriting on the front familiar yet unexpected. My name. Written in a hurried scrawl 

 

“Ominis had this?” I asked, glancing up at her

“Why didn’t he give it to me?”

 

Poppy shook her head 

 

“I don’t know, but I found it odd. Look at the handwriting… that’s not how Ominis’ quill writes for him” 

 

she leaned in closer, her expression a mix of curiosity and confusion

 

“This was written by hand, and well… it’s not recent”

 

I turned the letter over, my eyes catching the date in the corner. July 21st, 1890. My stomach lurched. Three years ago

 

“Poppy” I trailed off, my fingers trembling slightly as I traced the ink 

“I don’t understand” 

 

She bit her lip, glancing nervously between me and the letter before explaining why she had the letter again. I wasn’t listening at this point, I was too focused on writing to hear what she was saying. I swallowed hard, staring at the familiar font, and then everything clicked 

 

“It’s from Sebastian” I whispered cutting Poppy off before she could finish 

 

It was Sebastian’s handwriting, I’d seen it enough times to recognise it anywhere. Her eyes widened in surprise 

 

“Are you sure?” 

 

I nodded, my throat tightening

 

“Yes it’s definitely his” 

“But why would Ominis have it?” She asked 

“And why wouldn’t Sebastian just give it to you?”

 

I didn’t have an answer for that. My mind raced, trying to piece together the why, the how. Why had Sebastian written me a letter three years ago? And why had Ominis been hiding it? The questions buzzed in my head, but I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to think

 

“I don’t know” I admitted quietly staring down at the envelope as if it held all the answers 

 

Poppy shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting between me and the letter again 

 

“Do you… do you want to open it?”

 

I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the worn edges of the parchment. My heart pounded in my chest, the weight of what this letter might hold pressing down on me. It felt like opening it would change everything, like it would unlock something I wasn’t sure I was ready to face

 

But I had to know

 

“Yes”

Chapter 27: In the shadow of the Relic

Notes:

Sebastian’s POV

*Fifth year*

The air in the catacomb felt thick, almost suffocating, as if it were holding onto the echoes of everything that had happened here. Solomon was dead and I'd killed him. The green glow of Avada Kedavra still burned in my vision, seared there like an after mirage, and somehow, it felt as if it would never fade. Alora was by my side, her hand on my arm grounding me to reality. Her necklace dimly glowed green, it caught my eye amongst the chaos but luckily with everything that had happened, I doubt she even noticed it

 

"Sebastian" 

 

She whispered, her voice a tentative thread that pulled me back. I turned to look at her, and the sympathy in her eyes cut deeper than any curse. I couldn't face her or anyone else right now, I couldn't think about anything at all apart from escaping this dreaded place 

 

"I must get out of here" 

 

Was all I could say as I slowly dragged myself off the ground. I couldn't be here a minute longer, and without a second look, I ran out of the catacomb. Alora was right behind me, her voice rising in desperation as she called out my name

 

"Sebastian wait!"

 

Her footsteps echoed off the cold stone walls, relentless in her pursuit. I didn't stop. I couldn't. My mind was a storm of guilt, anger, confusion, and every step away from her felt like another step towards the edge of madness

 

"Please, Sebastian! Hold on! Just talk to me!" She shouted, her voice breaking

 

But I couldn't. The weight of what I'd done crushed any words I might have had. I pushed through the entrance of the catacomb, the sharp bite of the autumn air a jarring contrast to the oppressive darkness I just left behind 

 

"Sebastian!" Alora called again, her voice trembling now, closer than I expected 

 

I stopped abruptly, my fists clenched at my sides, and spun to face her. The sunlight illuminated her face, her wide eyes brimming with concern and something else - fear maybe? Pity? I couldn't bear it 

 

"Why wouldn't you stop? I was calling after you!" 

"Anne won't survive this!" I snapped back 

"She's withering away, inside and out" my voice harsh and raw, I took a step closer, my words spilling out like venom

"Solomon's never been there for us, not really. He gave up on Anne, I'll never give up on her. You saw him didn't you? He was going to ruin her life! He attacked us! I had to use the killing curse, you know I did! If I hadn't known how to cast it-"

"He did attack us, you had no choice" she cut me off abruptly 

"It was brave Sebastian, you clearly care more about Anne more than your uncle ever did" 

 

A strange relief surged through me at her words, like she'd given me permission to breathe. I nodded, though it felt weak 

 

"I knew you'd understand, I did do the right thing" I breathed 

"You did" she agreed

"I would have done the same... if I knew how" 

 

I blinked, staring at her. Was she implying what I thought she was? I hesitated but offered my help before she changed her mind

 

"I.. I could teach you" 

"No time like the present" she replied, her gaze steady and unwavering 

 

Something in me softened. She wasn't asking to wield the power recklessly, she wanted to learn because she wanted to stand beside me, even in this dark place. I nodded slowly 

 

"The killing curse won't be easy to master, as with all unforgivable's you have to mean it" 

 

Her expression still didn't waver. She lifted her wand, waiting 

 

"Hold your wand steady, focus, the incantation is 'Avada Kedavra' your intention must be clear" I spoke the words quietly, and she listened, her expression tight but resolute 

 

I watched as she tried, the power slipping through her like she was learning to tame something wild. It took her a moment, but eventually she mastered it. The spell took form in a flicker of green eerie light and when she finally lowered her wand, her face was a mask of quiet resolve. I felt a strange sense of pride in her... and in what we had just shared, but as the weight of the moment settled in I knew I couldn't stay here any longer. The realisation of everything that had happened was all too suffocating for me. I took a step back, feeling the distance between us grow as I tried to collect my thoughts

 

"I can't stay here" my voice was a low rasp 

"I need to find Ominis" I sounded like a stranger to myself, cold and distant, but I knew if i stayed, I might fall apart in front of her. And I couldn't let her see that 

 

"Sebastian" Alora's voice held a note of worry, but I couldn't meet her gaze 

"Please" I begged 

"I'm not myself right now... let's meet later at the Undercroft, alright?" 

 

She nodded, her gaze sad but understanding

 

"I'll go back to the castle then" 

 

She hesitated, watching me as if hoping I'd change my mind, but she respected my space and turned away, her footsteps soon fading into cool air. As soon as she was gone, I sank to my knees, my head in my hands. Solomon was dead and it was me who did it, I killed him with a spell I had taught myself, and now, the image of his lifeless body would haunt me forever. Yet part of me felt free, unburdened by his constant interference and relentless control. I sat there, knees on the cold, uneven ground, a swirling vortex of emotions consuming me. The rational part of me screamed that what I had done was monstrous, irreversible - but another part, one I barely recognised, felt lighter... empowered, even

 

The feeling was soon shadowed by guilt and fear. What if the ministry found out? What if I was sent to Azkaban? The thought of those dark, soul- draining walls sent a chill through me. I clenched my fists, fighting the rising panic. No - I couldn't let myself be caught. I couldn't let everything I worked for crumble because of him. I forced myself to stand, ignoring the tremors in my hands. Solomon had been a weight around my neck, dragging me down as he attempted to control everything, especially Anne. Removing him from our lives felt good... too good. Fists still clenched, my nails bit into my palms, desperately trying to fight off that creeping sense of satisfaction. It wasn't right. It couldn't be? 

 

I thought back to the darkness that plagued Anne, I tried so hard to save her, to find a cure, and Solomon always stood in the way. But now, there was nothing there to stop me, no more roadblocks. No more Solomon. Alora's face lingered in my mind, her unwavering determination to stand beside me. She said she'd had done the same - used the killing curse if it came down to it. And she meant it. I had seen the same look in her eyes that I had when I cast the curse on Solomon. Maybe I should feel ashamed for teaching her, but instead I felt pride. A part of me relished the idea of her understanding this power, of her walking this path with me. She wouldn't judge me, not truly 

 

But Ominis might.

 

The thought of facing him twisted my stomach. He'd hear the tremor in my voice, sense the shift in me, as he always did. Ominis didn't need to see to know when something was wrong. He would undoubtedly remind me of what I was becoming, of how far I'd fallen 

 

And maybe ... just maybe, that's why I needed to find him

 

 

————————————————————

 

 

The castle felt colder than usual, shadows clung to the walls like they were alive. The silence was heavy, oppressive, broken only by the rhythmic pounding of my heart in my ears. Every step I took echoed, each sound reverberating like an accusation. Solomon's death played over and over in my mind - the flash of green light, the lifeless thud of his body crumpling to the ground. It should haunt me, it did haunt me, in some distant, logical part of my mind. But the rest of me? The rest of me felt alive. I hadn't just killed Solomon - I had erased him, undone him with a spell that bent the natural order to my will. No hesitation, no mercy. I could still feel the way the curse had settled in my core, like a dark flame waiting to be stoked again

 

And I wanted to stoke it

 

The thought sent a shiver down my spine, not of fear, but of exhilaration. Solomon had deserved it. Every insult, every block he threw in my path, every moment he spent tightening the noose around Anne's life - it was all leading to this. His death wasn't a crime, it was justice. My justice. It was intoxicating, that flash of power, liberating even. Ominis had always warned me, time and time again about the allure of dark magic. I hadn't listened, you could say now more than ever. But I felt the weight of his voice in my head, a conscience I wanted to ignore 

 

I found him exactly where I thought he'd be - the Undercroft. The dim comforting glow of enchanted candles painted his pale features in soft light. He was seated on the sofa, his wand in hand, tracing idle patterns in the air. He turned toward me as I entered, his face set in a frown before I even spoke 

 

"Sebastian" he began, his voice low and firm 

"What happened?" 

 

I stood in the doorway, frozen under the weight of his unseeing gaze. For a moment I considered lying, creating some tale to skirt around the truth. But Ominis had a way of unraveling deception, and I was too raw, too drained to muster the effort

 

"I killed him" I said, my voice hollow. The confession hung in the air, heavy and unyielding 

 

Ominis brow furrowed, his grip on his wand tightening

 

"Solomon?" His voice cracked in disbelief 

 

I nodded, though I knew he couldn't see it

 

"He attacked us. He would have killed us, and destroyed Anne - destroyed everything! I... I had no choice" 

"You ALWAYS have a choice!"

 

Ominis's voice cut through the silence like a blade. He stood abruptly, his wand pointed toward me, though I knew it wasn't out of aggression 

 

"The killing curse, Sebastian? Do you even hear yourself!" 

 

I flinched, his words striking a nerve I hadn't anticipated 

 

"He forced my hand! He was going to let Anne die, Ominis. He didn't care about her, about us! He was an obstruction, nothing more" 

"An obstruction?" Ominis echoed, his tone a mix of anger and despair

"He was your uncle! He may have been flawed, but he wasn't a monster. Can you even hear yourself right now? You're justifying murder"

"I had to save her!" I shouted, the words echoing off the walls of the Undercroft 

"And you would have done the same if it meant protecting the people you loved!" 

 

Ominis fell silent, his face unreadable. He tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something only he could hear 

 

"Perhaps" he said finally, his voice soft but edged with sadness 

"But that doesn't make it right, and it doesn't make you any less lost" 

 

Lost. The word struck a chord deep within me. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms once more 

 

"I'm not lost" I said, though the hesitation in my voice betrayed me

"I know exactly what I'm doing. I'm saving Anne" 

"And at what cost?" Ominis took a step closer, his blind eyes boring into me with unnerving accuracy 

"How far are you willing to go, Sebastian? When does it stop? After Anne? After Alora? Or will you let this darkness consume you entirely?" 

 

I turned away, unable to face him. His words were too close to the truth I didn't want to admit. The darkness was consuming me, and the worst part was that I wasn't sure I wanted it to stop 

 

"I don't expect you to understand" I said, my voice low

"But I won't apologise for doing what needed to be done"

 

Ominis exhaled sharply, his frustration clearly evident 

 

"You're better than this" he said quietly

"I know you are" 

 

I wanted to believe him. But as I stood there, the weight of Solomon's death still heavy on my shoulders, I wasn't sure I could. I turned back toward the entrance of the Undercroft, my steps heavy 

 

"I'll see you later, Ominis" I said over my shoulder, my voice devoid of emotion 

 

"Sebastian" his voice stopped me in my tracks

"Be careful... I fear you're teetering on the edge of something you can't come back from"  

 

I didn't respond. The door to the Undercroft slid shut behind me, sealing Ominis's words inside

 

 

————————————————————

 

 

I had sent an owl to Alora earlier that evening, asking her to meet me in the Undercroft. I hadn't been able to get her face out of my mind since we left the catacomb. Her determination, her willingness to stand beside me even after what I'd done. I needed to talk to her, to figure out where we stood, but now I wasn't alone. Back in the Undercroft, the air felt colder than usual. The stone walls reflected the tension that hung thick in the room. Ominis stood in the middle of the room, his wand glowing faintly as he turned toward me. His presence immediately setting me on edge 

 

"What are you doing here?" I asked sharply, my voice echoing off the walls

"I came to wait for you, Sebastian" Ominis said, his tone calm but with quiet anger 

 

I narrowed my eyes 

 

"Wait for me? Why? You couldn't have picked a better time?" 

"Because someone has to hold you accountable"

He replied. His words were even, but the weight of them hit hard 

"I've met with Anne, she's withering Sebastian. She's devastated! She buried your uncle alone" 

 

The mention of Anne hit me like a slap, but I masked the sting with anger 

 

"I did it for her!" 

 

Ominis's expression tightened 

 

"Sebastian, Anne can't bare the thought of turning you in but-"

"What! Turn me in? She saw what happened!" 

 

The door to the Undercroft slid open and Alora stepped inside, her eyes darting between us as she took in the tension filling the room 

 

"I'll give you some time to think, Sebastian" he said, his tone clipped and cold

 

He turned and left without another word, leaving us both in the Undercroft together

 

"Sebastian" Alora spoke, her voice quiet but firm

 

The guilt that had been simmering beneath the surface erupted into anger, I made the choice to save Anne's life.. to save our lives. I did what I had to do

 

"Did you hear that? You saw what happened! I never wanted to hurt my uncle!"

"I know" Alora breathed

"I can't believe he's gone. How did things go so wrong? I didn't mean it. I didn't mean to - Oh Anne, I was only trying to help. I can't leave now, Anne needs me more than ever! You understand? You can talk to Ominis. Make him understand, he listens to you! I need to be with Anne" 

 

Alora stepped closer to me, her hand brushing against mine

 

"Don't worry, I'll talk to Ominis" 

 

The weight of her words settled over me, steady and unwavering. Her hand lingered against mine, grounding me in a way I hadn't realised I needed. The tension in my chest eased slightly, but the storm inside me still raged 

 

How did I get so lucky to have her?

 

She didn't flinch away from me, not even after everything I'd done. She was the only person who truly understood me, who saw the desperation behind my choices, the love I carried for Anne - and even the darkness I was fighting within myself. Ominis might claim to care, but he couldn't see things like Alora did. Alora didn't just stand by me, she stood with me. 

 

I turned to face her fully, my voice low and unsteady 

 

"You're the only one who believes in me, Alora. Even after everything" 

 

Her gaze softened, and she gave my hand a reassuring squeeze 

 

"Because I know who you are, Sebastian. I know your heart, you're not the monster you think you are" 

 

I let out a shaky breath, the knot in my chest loosening ever so slightly

 

"I don't deserve you" I said, my voice barely above a whisper 

 

Her brow furrowed, and she stepped closer 

 

"Don't say that. You've made mistakes yes, but you're fighting for the people you love. That's what matters" 

 

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words. She made it sound so simple, so clear - but in my mind, it wasn't 

 

"I don't know what I'd do without you" I admitted. The words felt raw but they were the truth

"You're the only one who gets it. Who gets me" 

 

Her lips curved into a small, sad smile 

 

"You're not as alone as you think you are, Sebastian" 

 

I reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. My hand lingered near her cheek, the warmth of her skin against my fingers anchoring me in the moment 

 

"You've always been my sun, Alora. Even on the darkest of days.. you're always the light" 

 

Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out. Instead she took a step closer, closing the distance between us. Her hand came up to rest against my chest, right over my heart 

 

"I love you so much" I whispered 

"I love you too" she whispered back, her voice barely audible but filled with certainty 

 

The words hit me like a balm, soothing the raw edges of my soul. I leaned my forehead against hers, closing my eyes as I let the moment sink in. It was just her and me, standing in the Undercroft together, holding onto each other as if the world outside didn't exist. I tightened my grip on her hand and silently vowed to protect her, no matter what it took

 

As we stood there, lost in the quiet comfort of each other, my gaze shifted to the faint glow emanating from her necklace. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but after what I'd seen in the catacomb, it was impossible to ignore. I knew what it was capable of - what it could reveal. Memories, secrets, evidence of things I couldn't afford for anyone to see. The guilt clawed at my chest as I thought about it. I'd given her that necklace for her birthday, a token of my love, something to keep her safe. And now, here I was scheming to take it away. I felt like the worst kind of person, but the stakes were too high

 

As she rested her head lightly against my chest, I let my hand trail to the delicate chain around her neck. My movements were careful, deliberate, as I unclasped it with practiced ease. I held my breath, half expecting her to notice, but she didn't flinch. She trusted me completely, and that trust cut deeper than any blade. I slipped the necklace into my hand, the weight of it heavier than I expected - or maybe it was just the burden of my actions

 

Alora pulled back slightly, her eyes searching mine 

 

"I'll talk to Ominis, we’ll figure this out together” her voice was soft but resolute 

 

I forced a smile, nodding 

 

“Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you” 

 

She returned the smile, her expression filled with so much warmth and love that it made my chest ache 

 

“You’ll never have to find out” she promised, stepping away reluctantly 

“I’ll see you soon” she said, casting one last glance over her shoulder before she slipped out of the Undercroft 

 

As the door slid shut behind her, I opened my hand to reveal the necklace resting in my palm. The glow seemed dimmer now, as if it too mourned what I had done. I turned it over in my hand, my thumb brushing against the gemstone. How had things come to this? I’d given her this gift as a symbol of my love, and now I was stealing it away for fear it could expose 

 

“I’m sorry” I whispered to the empty room, unsure if I was apologising to her, myself or the necklace itself 

 

I told myself it was only temporary, that I’d return it to her as soon as I could - when things were safer. When I wasn’t one misstep away from losing everything  

 

Chapter 28: Fate loves the fearless

Notes:

Sebastian’s POV

*Fifth year*

The next morning came far too quickly. I hadn't slept, not really. The few times I had managed to close my eyes, the same moments played relentlessly in my mind: Anne's devastation, Ominis's cold accusations, Alora's unwavering belief in me, and the necklace. I rubbed my temples as I sat on the edge of my bed, trying to gather the strength to face the day. How the fuck was I supposed to act like everything was fine after everything that happened yesterday?

 

The great hall was already bustling when I arrived for breakfast. The clatter of silverware and hum of conversation felt overwhelming, the normalcy of it all felt jarring against the chaos in my head. I spotted Alora almost immediately, she was sitting with Natty and Poppy, her laughter soft but genuine as they chatted. The sight of her made my chest tighten. 

 

She didn't know

 

The necklace was still tucked away in my pocket, it's weight a constant, nagging presence. Every time I thought about returning it, the fear rose again. I sat down at the Slytherin table, forcing myself to eat something despite the lump in my throat. Ominis was a few seats away, his posture stiff as he slowly ate the food on his plate. He hadn't said a word to me since last night, and I wasn't sure if that was better or worse than his usual pointed remarks

 

"Sebastian" Imelda called from across the table, pulling me out of my thoughts 

"You look like you've been hit with a Bludger, what's wrong with you?" 

"Nothing" I said sharply, a little too quickly. Her brow arched, but she didn't press further 

 

I pushed my food around on my plate, my appetite long gone. Every nerve in my body felt raw, on edge, as if one wrong glance would send everything spiralling 

 

"Sebastian" 

 

Her voice 

 

I looked up to see Alora standing beside me, her expression tinged with concern. She had a way of cutting through everything else, her presence grounding me in a way nothing else could

 

"Can we talk?" She asked, her tone quiet but insistent 

 

I nodded, standing and following her out of the hall. As we walked, I couldn't help but glance at her neck. The empty space where the necklace should have been felt glaringly obvious, but she didn't seem to notice - or at least she hadn't mentioned it. She led us to an empty corridor, far from prying eyes and ears. Turning to face me, she crossed her arms, her gaze searching mine

 

"You didn't sleep" she said softly. It wasn't a question, just a quiet observation 

"I couldn't" I admitted. There was no point in lying to her

 

Her brow furrowed with concern as she stepped closer 

 

"Sebastian, I know yesterday was ... a lot. But you don't have to carry it all alone. I'm here" 

 

I clenched my jaw, the guilt twisting in my chest 

 

"I don't need you to worry about me Alora, I'm fine" 

"You're not" she countered, her voice gentle but firm

"I can see it" 

"Maybe you should stop looking then" I snapped, my words sharp enough to make her flinch 

 

Immediate regret slammed into me 

 

"Alora, I-"

"It's okay" she interrupted, brushing off my tone with a forced smile

"I know you're under a lot of pressure, I'm not taking it personally"

 

Her kindness only made the guilt worse. The anger simmering inside me felt foreign, like it wasn't entirely mine. I tried to push it down, but it kept clawing its way back up 

 

"I spoke to Ominis this morning" she continued, trying to steer the conversation away from my outburst

"I told him we'd meet later today to talk, I think I can convince him to see things our way" 

"You shouldn't have to do that" I muttered, my fists clenching at my sides 

"But you asked me to? He listens to me, I can help him understand. For you, for Anne"

 

I looked at her, the words sticking in my throat. Did she really know the full extent of what she was stepping into? But she was willing to do it for me anyways 

 

"Oh" she added suddenly, her hand reaching up to touch her collarbone 

"I've um, misplaced my necklace" 

 

My heart skipped a beat 

 

"I probably left it in my room somewhere" she said with a shrug, keeping her tone casual 

"I'm sure it'll turn up"

 

I forced myself to nod, keeping my expression neutral 

 

"Yeah, probably"

 

But I knew it wouldn't. The necklace was in my pocket, hidden away where no one else could find it. I'd seen it glow in the catacomb, a faint pulse of magic I couldn't ignore. I hated taking it, especially because it was a birthday gift from me - but I couldn't risk it. Not now 

 

"Anyway" she said breaking the silence 

"I should get going, Ominis won't be easy to convince, and I want to be prepared"

 

Her eyes searched mine, lingering for a moment 

 

"You'll be okay?"

"Yeah" I lied 

 

She gave me a small, reassuring smile before turning to leave. As she walked away, I slipped my hand into my pocket feeling the cool metal of the necklace against my fingers. I couldn't let her know I had it. Not yet. And as for Ominis? I'd make sure I knew exactly what they talked about, and if she thought I'd just sit back and wait, well maybe she didn't know me as well as she thought. 

 

 

————————————————————

 

 

The day dragged on like some cruel, unrelenting punishment, each moment forcing me to replay the worst of yesterday in excruciating detail. Solomon's face started to haunt me - his eyes wide in shock as the curse hit, the sound of his body hitting the ground and then the silence that followed. But it wasn't just him. It was Alora too. The Inferi closing in on her, her shouts cutting through the chaos as she battled each one to get to me. I didn't mean to turn them on her, but the memory still twisted my stomach into knots. Yet with every pang of guilt, something darker simmered beneath the surface 

 

It wasn't my fault 

 

Solomon was the one who refused to listen. He was the one who stood in my way - again. Always so self-righteous, so sure he knew what was best. If he just stayed out of it, if he had just let me fix things, none of this would have happened. That thought gnawed at me all day, growing sharper and more insistent

 

By the time I sat in Ancient Runes, my hands were trembling with pent-up frustration. The glyphs on the parchment paper blurred together, meaningless shapes that I couldn't bring myself to care about. I gripped my quill so tightly it snapped, the sound was loud enough that it drew a few glances in my direction. Noah, seated beside me, gave me a low whistle

 

"Alright there mate?" He asked, his tone casual but tinged with concern

 

I didn't look at him 

 

"Fine" I said curtly 

"You don't look fine"

 

I clenched my jaw, the heat rising in my chest. His voice grated on me, it was too light, too normal. How could he sit there, prattling on like everything was okay? 

 

"I said I'm fine" I snapped, my voice cold as ice 

 

He leaned back slightly, raising his hands in mock surrender

 

"Alright no need to bite my head off"

 

I glared at him, my fingers curling into fists. There was a moment - a dark, fleeting moment - where I wanted to lash out, to make him shut up for good. But I forced that thought down, focusing on the parchment in front of me instead.  The runes blurred again, but this time it wasn't from lack of focus. It was Solomon's face, burned into my mind, flashing right in front of my eyes 

 

"Mr Sallow" 

 

The sound of Professor Thalric's voice made me jolt. I looked up to see him staring at me, his expression a mixture of concern and disapproval 

 

"Are you quite alright?" He asked, his voice cutting through the haze 

 

I forced a nod

 

"Just tired, Professor"

 

His gaze lingered for a moment, as if he didn't believe me, but he finally nodded and turned back to the lesson. The rest of the day followed the same pattern - anger bubbling just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment. Every noise felt louder, every interaction was more irritating than the last. In the corridors, someone bumped into me, it was a first year Hufflepuff who apologised profusely for the contact, but the urge to shove them back, to make them feel the weight of my frustration was overwhelming. I gritted my teeth and walked away, my fists clenched so tightly that my knuckles went white

 

By the time I reached potions, the air itself felt suffocating. Weasley was smirking across the room, his usual arrogance radiating off him like a horrible stench. I could feel my temper on the verge of snapping, a dark voice whispering in my mind

 

You could wipe that smug look off his face 

 

But I didn't. Not yet  

 

Because through all of the anger, all of the chaos in my head, one thought kept me grounded: the meeting. Alora and Ominis would talk tonight, and I needed to know what they said. Would Ominis try to turn her against me? Would he fill her pretty little head with ideas, convince her I was a lost cause? Exclaim that Azkaban is where I truly belonged? The very thought made my blood burn 

 

Like fuck would I let that happen

 

The necklace in my pocket felt heavier than ever, it was a constant reminder of the lengths I was willing to go to keep everything under control. Alora had no idea I had it and I planned to keep it that way. She might trust Ominis, but right now I didn't, I couldn't 

 

As the day crawled to a close, I felt the anger reaching a fever pitch. It was like something inside me was growing stronger, feeding on my frustration and guilt, twisting my thoughts until I could barely recognise them as my own. All I could do was wait, the promise of their conversation later was the only thing ticking me over to the present. And when the time came I'd be right there watching, listening 

 

Ready

 

 

————————————————————

 

 

The chill of the evening air wrapped around me as I stood cloaked in the shadows, just beyond the entrance to the Undercroft. I lingered behind the gate in the darkness, my heart beating like a drum. I told myself it was caution that kept me hidden, that I just needed to know what Ominis was saying to Alora. But deep down, I knew the truth… I didn’t trust him

 

The words drifted through the still air, each one sharp as a dagger

 

“She was beside herself with grief” 

 

Ominis was saying. His voice carried the same solemn weight it always did, but tonight it felt heavier 

 

“Part of her wants Sebastian to face the consequences - another part of her can’t bear the thought of it. I don’t want to lose Sebastian, but I don’t think we have a choice”

 

My breath caught, and a cold rage surged through me, searing and all-consuming 

 

Face the consequences?

 

Ominis my best friend, the one person who was supposed to understand - was ready to betray me? Ready to turn me in like I was nothing more than a criminal! My hands curled into fists, nails biting into my palms, the feeling was becoming evermore familiar as the words echoed in my head, reverberating like the toll of a funeral bell

 

“I don’t think we have a choice”

 

How could he say that? How could he even think it? After everything we’ve been through, after everything I’ve done - not for myself but for Anne. For all of us. My whole body felt like it was vibrating, trembling with the intensity of my fury. My vision blurred at the edges, darkening, tunnelling until all I could see was the jagged anger twisting inside me

 

I had to leave 

 

If I stayed another moment, I don’t know what I’d do - burst into the Undercroft, scream at him, or worse. My chest heaved as I spun on my heels retreating from the shadows and slipping into the night. The cold air bit at my face as I stormed out of the castle, each step heavier than the last. My thoughts were a chaotic triangle, pulling me deeper into the storm brewing inside. Betrayal burned into my veins like poison 

 

Ominis. Alora. 

 

Were they both against me? Was she standing there now, nodding and agreeing that I deserved Azkaban? The thought was unbearable, the possibility too cruel to fathom. I stumbled into the courtyard, the night silent except for the crunch of my boots on the gravel. I was shaking now, unable to tell if it was from the cold or the fury. My breathing was ragged, my mind absolutely racing 

 

And then I heard it 

 

Hello, Sebastian 

 

I froze. The voice was deep, dark and threaded with a sinister edge that made my skin crawl. I whipped around, my eyes darting to the shadows. No one was there

 

“Who’s there?” I demanded, my voice sharp yet trembling 

 

Silence 

 

I shook my head trying to steady myself, maybe it was the wind, or my imagination playing tricks on me 

 

Sebastian

 

The voice came again, this time clearer. Closer. I staggered back, panic clawing at my chest

 

“Show yourself!”

 

But no one came. No movement, no figure emerging from the darkness. Only the voice, low and cruel, slithering in my mind 

 

You’re not imagining this

 

I stumbled, pressing my hands to my temples as the voice seemed to echo from inside my own head 

 

They’re turning on you Sebastian. They’ll betray you, just like Solomon did  

 

“No” I muttered, my voice shaky

 

Oh, but they will. Ominis is already halfway there, Alora will be next. You know it, you saw it 

 

“NO!” I shouted, the sound cutting through the empty courtyard 

 

They don’t understand you. But I do. I know why you did it. I know what you’re capable of 

 

“Get out of my head!” I snarled

 

My knees buckled as I pressed harder against my skull, as if I could claw the voice out, but it didn’t leave. It laughed. Dark, cold and filled with malice

 

Oh Sebastian, you’re not losing your mind… you’re finding it 

 

The world around me seemed to blur, the edges of reality slipping as the voice continued, relentless and consuming

 

They’ll never forgive you. But I don’t care what you’ve done. I can help you. Together we can make them understand. Together, we can make them pay

 

I gasped for air, the weight of the voice suffocating. My heart pounded violently as I tried to ground myself, to push it away, fight it off. And then, just as suddenly as it came, the voice fell silent. The courtyard was still again, the night eerily quiet

 

My breaths came fast and shallow, my body trembling as if I’d just fought off some unseen attacker. But the words lingered, burrowed deep into my mind 

 

They’ll betray you

 

I didn’t know how long I stood there for, staring into the dark, but when I finally moved my footsteps felt heavier than before. Ominis’s words repeated in my mind, mingling with the dark whispers that now felt part of me

 

They were planning to turn on me 

 

But I wouldn’t let that happen. 

Chapter 29: The battle within

Notes:

*TW : This chapter contains thoughts/acts of violence and self harm*

Sebastian’s POV
*Fifth Year*

My dormitory felt like a tomb. Shadows clung to the corners of the room, stretching across the cold stone walls as if they too were watching, waiting. The room was silent, but the silence didn't matter - it never did. The voice always found me. My pulse pounded in my ears, drowning out everything but the voice. It was louder now, insistent, as though it sensed my resistance weakening. I sat on the edge of my bed, my fists pressed hard against my temples, as if I could crush it out of my skull. But it was there, winding through my thoughts like poison in my veins

 

You're weak, Sebastian. I can help you become what you could be

 

I exhaled sharply, trying to focus on the sound of my breath. Anything to drown it out. My hands trembled in my lap, but I refused to look at them 

 

You'll never have their loyalty. Ominis is betraying you at every turn, and Alora? She pities you. They see you for what you are - broken and unworthy 

 

"That's not true" 

 

I whispered, but my voice was hoarse, weak. A traitorous part of me questioned if the words were even mine 

 

Isn't it? Ominis sneaks around with her. They speak in whispers, always behind your back. And her eyes... have you noticed how she looks at you now? There's fear in them Sebastian. She's already pulling away

 

"No"

 

I muttered, standing so quickly my head spun. My feet dragged me to the window before I even realised I'd moved. The glass was cool against my forehead, but it couldn't calm the storm inside. My chest rose and fell too fast, every breath like a jaggered knife 

 

They're abandoning you. Just like Anne

 

The name hit me like a curse, sharper than any spell I'd ever felt. My throat tightened, and I gripped the windowsill until my knuckles went white 

 

"Shut up" I growled, but the words barely left my mouth before the voice answered 

 

You think you're better than this? Than me? You let me in because you wanted to. You needed me. And now, you're nothing without me

 

My hand slid to my wand, resting on the ledge. For a moment, I stared at it. The wood was smooth and familiar, but it felt heavier now, as if it carried the weight of the decision I made 

 

You could end this - end them. Make them suffer for doing you wrong 

 

The wand seemed to hum in my hand, eager, hungry. My fingers curled around it, but I stopped as my arm froze midair. A wave of nausea swept through me, and I hurled the wand across the room. It hit the wall with a dull thud and clattered to the floor. I sank to my knees, breathing hard, the voice still whispered, still twisted my thoughts 

 

You're pathetic Sebastian. You let them make you weak. You've always been the one who carried them, haven't you? Anne, Ominis, Alora - they've taken from you, drained you. And for what? They want you to rot in Azkaban 

 

I sucked in a breath, shaking my head violently 

 

"They don't" my voice cracked 

"Ominis is my best friend, Alora is my girlfriend... they wouldn't!"

 

Best friends and girlfriends don't pity you. They don't abandon you when you need them most. Anne abandoned you. Ominis judges you. And Alora? She fears you. Did you see the way she looked at you last time? Like you were a threat. You are a threat, and she knows it 

 

"No" I muttered again, but the word felt like a fragile shield, easily shattered by the weight of doubt pressing down on me 

 

My stomach churned, the familiar pull of dark magic tightened its grip on my thoughts. I'd felt it so many times before, it always whispered the same lies, and yet... they didn't feel like lies anymore. I stood abruptly, the room spinning around me. My fingers itched for my wand, but it lay where I'd thrown it across the room, lifeless on the floor. For a moment I just stood there, staring at it 

 

The voice laughed, low and mocking 

 

Look at you. Afraid of a piece of wood. Afraid of your own power. That's why they don't respect you Sebastian. That's why they don't trust you. You're weak

 

The laughter echoed in my head, and I grabbed the nearest thing - my pillow - and hurled it at the wall. It was a pathetic display of rage, one that left me feeling more drained than before. I braced my hands on the bedpost, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps 

 

"I'm not weak" I spat through clenched teeth 

 

Prove it 

 

The voice coiled around the words like a dare, and for a terrifying moment, I considered it. I could feel the dark magic thrumming beneath the surface, aching to be unleashed. My mind raced with images - Ominis  sneering at me, Alora's hesitant gaze, Anne dissaparating with Solomon's body out of the catacomb. I closed my eyes, the heat of anger bubbling in my chest. I could make them stay, I could make them listen. All I had to do was reach for it

 

But then her voice cut through the haze. Alora's voice, soft and steady, the way it had been that night she told me I wasn't alone 

 

"You're not a monster"  she'd said

"You're not as alone as you think you are"

 

The memory hit me like a blow to the chest. My eyes snapped open, and I stepped back from the bedpost as if it had burned me. The voice hissed in frustration, its tone sharp and cutting now 

 

She lies to you. They all do. You'll see when they leave, when they betray you.. when they send you to Azkaban. You'll come crawling back to me, and when you do, you'll wish you hadn't wasted time pretending to be something you're not 

 

I sank to the floor again, pressing my back against the bed. My knees drew up to my chest, and I buried my head in my hands. The voice didn't stop - it never stopped - but I sat there anyway, holding onto the faint echo of her words 

 

You're not as alone as you think you are 

 

It was enough to keep me from picking up my wand, for now. I wasn't sure how much longer I could fight it though 

 

——————————————————

 

That afternoon The Great Hall buzzed with the usual sound of chatter, laughter and clinking cutlery. I hated it. Every voice grated on my nerves, every laugh a sharp blade digging into my skull. The noise felt louder than usual, too loud, drowning my thoughts until only the voice remained, curling around the edges of my mind like thick smoke 

 

Look at them it hissed 

So content, so oblivious. Do you hear them? Mocking you. They don't care about you. None of them do. Not Alora, not Ominis. Not anyone 

 

I shoved a piece of bread onto my plate, but I wasn't hungry. My hand trembled as I gripped my fork, the metal biting into my palm. Across the table, a group of students laughed - loud, carefree 

 

They think you're weak. They think you've lost control. Prove them wrong 

 

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to silence it. But the voice only grew louder.

Suddenly, the bench jolted as someone bumped into me, sending my goblet of water toppling onto my lap

 

"Oh, sorry mate!" A voice chirped, light and annoyingly cheerful

 

I looked up to see a fourth year Hufflepuff boy. He was blonde, freckled and his face was pink with embarrassment. He was already leaning down to grab the goblet with a sheepish grin on his face. I didn't feel the annoyance I normally would. No, this was different. Hot and violent, like a firestorm roaring through my chest 

 

He's taking the piss out of you the voice sneered 

Look at him. Laughing at you. You're a joke to him

 

"Watch where you're going" I said, my voice sharp enough to cut glass 

 

The boy straightened, holding out the goblet with an apologetic smile

 

"Really sorry about that. I didn't see—"

"Didn't see?"

 

I snapped, standing so quickly that the bench scraped against the stone floor. My hands trembled, but not from nerves- from rage

 

"Are you blind? Or just stupid?" 

 

The boys smile faltered 

 

"I didn't mean—"

 

He's lying!  The voice spat 

He meant it, show him he can't treat you like this!

 

My wand was in my hand before I even realised I'd drawn it. The hall seemed to grow quieter, conversations fading as nearby students turned to watch 

 

"Sebastian, it's fine - really" the boy stammered, taking a small step back 

 

"Fine?" I repeated, my voice a low growl

 

The rage twisted inside my chest like a living thing demanding release 

 

"Do I look fucking fine to you?" 

 

Do it! Show him. Show them ALL!

 

Without another thought, I flicked my wand 

 

"Expelliarmus!" 

 

The spell slammed into the boy with a force that wasn't natural. His body flew backward, crashing into the edge of a nearby table before crumpling to the floor. Gasps echoed around the hall as student's scrambled away from him. The boy groaned, clutching his ribs, his wand clattering uselessly to the floor. Blood dripped from his nose, a stark contrast against his pale skin. For a moment, everything stopped. The world was silent except for the pounding of my heart 

 

Then the voice came again, smooth and satisfied 

 

Good. He deserved it. You're in control now, you're becoming more powerful 

 

I stared at the boy, at the damage I'd done. My hand shook, the wand feeling foreign in my grip 

 

"Sebastian Sallow!" A voice shouted, cutting through the haze. I turned to see Professor Weasley storming toward me, her face tight with fury

 

I backed away instinctively, my breathing shallow. The boy was being helped to his feet, his face twisted in pain

 

Don't apologise. Do not regret it. Regret is for the weak 

 

The voice whispered, coiling tighter around me. But the regret was there, clawing at the edges of my chest, I swallowed hard, my throat dry. I shoved my wand In my pocket and turned, ignoring the stares, ignoring the whispers. The Great Hall seemed to close in around me, the walls pressing tight. I needed to get out, to breathe, to escape. As I pushed through the doors and into the empty corridor, the voice followed me, no longer taunting but now reassuring 

 

They'll never understand you, Sebastian. They don't deserve to. But you don't need them, you don't need anyone 

 

I braced myself against the cold stone wall, my hands still trembling. My chest heaved with shallow breaths, and my mind was a whirlwind of anger and shame. But yet, beneath it all, there was a sick, dark part of me that agreed with the voice

 

I pushed myself off the wall to get away, but as soon as I started to leave, I heard the sharp clack of heels against stone, growing louder, faster 

 

"Sebastian Sallow!" 

 

The commanding voice echoed off the walls, freezing me mid-step. I turned slowly, my pulse still racing as I saw Professor Weasley striding toward me, her face set in a mask of controlled anger. Her gaze burned into me, the weight of her authority pressing down like a physical force. The usual kindness in her expression was gone, replaced by something colder, sharper 

 

"What do you think you're doing?" She demanded,

Stopping just a few feet away from me 

"You assaulted another student, in front of everyone, for what? A spilled goblet?" 

 

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words got caught in my throat. What could I say? That I hadn't meant to? That's something inside me was driving me to the edge? None of it would matter, none of it would undo what I'd done. Instead I stood there, silent with my jaw clenched 

 

Her eyes narrowed 

 

"Do you realise how badly you've injured him? He's on his way to the hospital wing as we speak" 

 

My stomach churned at her words, guilt clawing its way up my throat. But the voice was quick to intervene 

 

He deserved it and you know it  it hissed, smooth and venomous 

 

"I didn't mean to"  I muttered finally, my voice hollow

 

Professor Weasley folded her arms, her expression unyielding 

 

"Whether you meant to or not, your actions were deliberate, reckless and dangerous. You're lucky it wasn't worse" 

 

Her words cut deep, sharper than I'd expected. But it wasn't the reprimand that stung - it was the way she looked at me, as if I'd become someone she didn't recognise 

 

"You'll serve detention for this, Mr Sallow" she continued, her voice like steel

"Every evening this week, you'll report to the Trophy room. And if I hear of anything like this again, rest assured there will be far more serious consequences" 

 

I nodded stiffly, the weight of her words settling over me. Professor Weasley stepped closer, her gaze softening just slightly as she studied me. For a moment, she looked as though she might say something else, but then she shook her head 

 

"Go" she said firmly 

"And think about what you've done"

 

I didn't need to be told twice. Without another word I turned around and walked away.  The guilt was still there, gnawing at me like a parasite, but it couldn't drown out the voice 

 

She's wrong. It whispered, it's tone almost soothing They all are. You're stronger than anyone. And soon, they'll see it too 

 

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. The anger, the shame, the darkness - they were all tangled together like an unrelenting knot I couldn't untie... and deep down, I wasn't sure I wanted to 

 

——————————————————

 

My last lesson of the day was potions with Professor Sharp. The air in the classroom felt heavier than usual, a suffocating pressure that settled over me like a shroud. The cauldrons hissed and bubbled around us, but their sounds were distant because my attention was fixed on the figure beside me. Alora worked in silence, her movements methodical as she sliced through the knotgrass. The scrape of her knife against the cutting board grated on my nerves like chalk on a chalkboard. She hadn't looked at me once since we were paired, hadn't even spoken unless it was to bark an order at me or point to an ingredient

 

She's disgusted by you the voice whispered 

She doesn't even have the decency to pretend otherwise. Just look at her - she can't stand to be near you 

 

My grip on my pestle tightened until my knuckles turned white. The pounding in my head, the incessant murmurs of the voice, it all merged into a single, unbearable noise 

 

"Are you going to help at all?" 

 

Alora finally snapped. Her voice was low but sharp, she didn't even glance at me, her focus was entirely on the potion in front of her. Her tone was like a spark in a powder keg. I could feel the anger rising, boiling over, untamed 

 

"I didn't realise you needed so much hand holding" I shot back, my voice venomous 

 

That got her attention. She turned, her ocean blue eyes locking onto mine, and for a moment the weight in my chest lifted. But then I saw it - the wariness in her gaze, the subtle flinch she thought I wouldn't notice 

 

She was afraid of me 

 

Good the voice purred, triumphant

She should be. They all should be, why don't you remind her why 

 

Alora stood with her back to me, her shoulders tense and her head held high. I could see the faint outline of her spine beneath her shirt, the voice in my head seemed to grow louder, more insistent 

 

"I know the last few days have been... difficult for you" Alora said, her voice softer now but no less cutting 

"But you need to stop being like this with me before you say something you regret" 

 

Her words hung in the air like a challenge. My jaw tightened as the voice began to coil around my thoughts, insidious and relentless 

 

She thinks you're broken, weak. A shadow of what you were. Prove her wrong, show her how strong you can really be 

 

My eyes drifted to the silver knife on the workstation, its blade glinting in the dim light like a promise of violence. Again, the voice was louder now, almost gleeful 

 

She's standing right there, so close.. just one motion and you'll silence her doubts forever 

 

My hand moved of its own accord, my fingers curled around the handle of the knife as if drawn by an unseen force. The cold metal burned against my skin, its weight both foreign and familiar. I took a step closer to Alora, my heart started pounding in my chest like a drumbeat in a dark ritual. She didn't seem to notice me moving closer, she was too caught up in brewing the potion in front of her 

 

"Am I just talking to myself?" She said again, her frustration evident, but I didn't respond 

 

The voice was urging me on now, it's tone urgent and demanding 

 

Do it! It hissed she deserves this!

 

I raised the knife higher now as I took another step closer. My arm was poised, the knife hovering just inches away from Alora's back. I could feel the voice in my head, urging me on, telling me to strike. My heart was still racing, my breath now coming in short gasps. For a moment I was frozen, my body locked in a state of tension. Alora seemed oblivious to the danger lurking right behind her, her eyes were too fixated on the cauldron. My mind was a jumble of conflicting emotions - rage, lust, and deep seated desire to hurt someone, anyone. The voice fed on these emotions, growing stronger, more insistent

 

I took a step closer to her, my eyes fixed on the spot where I wanted to plunge the knife. My hand trembled with anticipation, my fingers tightening around the hilt. And then, something shifted inside me. A memory flashed through my mind - a memory of Alora and me watching the sunset in Feldcroft, we'd just discovered Isadora's home and we took a short break just laying in the grass. She was laughing, her eyes sparkled as she took in the scenery around us... and I felt a pang of something 

 

The voice in my head screamed in frustration as I hesitated 

 

Do it! It urged Stab her! Kill her now! Show her what you're capable of!

 

But I didn't move. I stood there, poised to strike, then something inside me snapped. I felt a surge of adrenaline and a desperate need to stop myself from committing such a horrific act. In a moment of sheer panic, I turned the knife on myself, slashing at my own hand in an attempt to break this spell that had taken over me. The pain was intense, a searing burn that shot through my arm as the blade bit deep into my skin. I felt a cry rise up in my throat, but it was frozen there, unable to escape. Alora turned around, her eyes widening in shock as she took in the scene before her. She saw the knife still clutched in my hand, saw the blood welling up from the gash on my palm 

 

"Sebastian, what's wrong?" She asked, her voice laced with concern 

"Oh Merlin, your hand... are you okay?"

 

I didn't answer. I couldn't answer. I just stood there, frozen in agony and shame. She reached out a hand to touch mine but I jerked away from her, dropping the knife to the floor with a clatter. The sound seemed loud in the silence that followed. Without saying a word, I turned and stumbled out of the room, leaving Alora standing alone amidst the chaos. I could feel her eyes on me as I fled, could sense her confusion and fear. I didn't care though, all I knew was that I had to get away from her before it was too late. Before I hurt someone else...or myself 

 

The voice followed me out, its whisper now a cruel laughter 

 

How pathetic of you, you're weak! You'll never escape me, Sebastian... you'll never escape what you are 

 

And for the first time, I believed it 

Chapter 30: Fractured reflections

Notes:

Sebastian’s POV

*Fifth Year*

After one of many detentions that week, I left the castle after curfew and found myself stumbling down the path leading to Hogsmeade. My robes felt heavy with the dampness from the rain, the night was unnaturally still that evening. The village lights flickered faintly in the distance like dying embers, but the silence wasn't comforting - it was suffocating, broken only by the voice in my head

You shouldn't have come here it whispered, cold and insidious
You're wasting time

I gritted my teeth, my fists clenched at my sides. My head throbbed, a dull annoying ache that had been a constant companion for days now. Sleep had become a luxury I couldn't afford, food tasted like ash in my mouth. Even the simplest of spells felt like dragging lead weights through my mind, but the voice was tireless, relentless

You're weak it hissed
That's why no one respects you. That's why they pity you, even she pities you

Alora's face flashed in my mind, her eyes filled with concern, her hand reaching out to stop me from spiralling further. The thought should have comforted me, but it only stoked the fire burning in my chest

She'll leave you, just like the rest. Unless you show her how strong you are

I forced the thought away, my hands trembled as I pushed open the door to the Hogs Head. The dimly lit pub reeked of stale ale and damp wood. A few cloaked figures sat hunched over their drinks, their faces obscured by the flickering shadows. I wasn't there for company, I was here because I couldn't bear to be inside the castle a moment longer. I couldn't handle being surrounded by whispers and judgmental stares. I needed air, or at least that's what I told myself. As I made my way to the bar the voice grew louder, more consistent

They're staring at you. Look at them. They think you're pathetic, prove them wrong

My jaw tightened, my eyes scanned the room for any sign of a threat, real or imagined. It didn't take long for my gaze to land on him - a man in his late thirties, dressed in shabby clothes. His face twisted into a sneer as he laughed with another patron

"Oi!" He called out, his voice slurring
"You look a bit young to be skulking about in here, eh? Run back to your school before you get hurt"

I ignored him, ordering a butterbeer from the bartender and taking a seat at the far end of the counter

He thinks he's better than you the voice whispered
Just like everyone else, are you going to let him talk to you like that?

"Oi"

The man said again, louder this time. His stool scraped against the floor as he stood, swaying slightly

"I'm talkin' to you, boy"

I didn't respond, didn't even look at him. My fingers tightened around the mug in my hand, the coldness of the butterbeer seeping into my skin

"Think you're too good to answer me, do ya?"

He stumbled closer, his breath reeking of alcohol

"Bloody Hogwarts brats, always actin' like you own the place"

He's mocking you the voice growled
Make him stop

"Leave me alone" I said, my voice low and even

The man laughed, a harsh grating sound that made my skin crawl

"Oh you've got some fight in you, eh? Let's see how much, shall we?"

Before I could react, he grabbed the front of my robes, yanking me to my feet. The room tilted as the blood rushed to my head, and for a moment, all I could hear was the roar of my heartbeat

Do it the voice commanded, it's tone sharp and eager
Show him what happens when people underestimate you

My wand was already in my hand before I even realised I'd drawn it. The air around me crackled with energy as I pressed the tip against his chest

"Let. Me. Go"

He smirked, his grip tightening

"Or what? You'll hex me, little wizard?"

Yes the voiced purred
Hex him. Curse him, make him regret ever touching you

My lips moved before I could think

"Expulso!"

The blast was deafening, the force of it sending the man flying backward into a table. Wood splintered and glasses shattered as he crashed to the floor, groaning in pain. The room fell silent, all eyes on me. My chest heaved as I lowered my wand, the adrenaline coursing through my veins like fire

Good, that's more like it. Do you feel it? The power? The control?

The man struggled to his feet, blood dripping from the gash on his forehead. His eyes were wide with fear as he looked at me, his bravado gone

"You're mad" he muttered, backing away
"You're fucking mad"

The words hit me like a blow and for a moment, I saw Solomon's face. I saw the same fear, same judgement, and my stomach turned. My grip on my wand faltered slightly

Don't stop now the voice urged
Finish it. Make sure he never forgets who you are

I took a step forward, my wand aimed at his chest. The voice was louder than ever, drowning out my thoughts, my conscience. Everything but the desire to hurt, to destroy. But then I saw him - Solomon. Not just in the man's face but standing behind him, his arms crossed, his expression cold and unyielding

"You've become worse than me" he said, his voice cutting through the haze in my mind
"You're a disgrace to this family"
"No" I whispered, shaking my head
"You're not real"

Ignore him the voice snarled
He's just a memory, you don't need him. You don't need anyone

But I couldn't ignore it. The room spun around me, the weight of my actions crashing down like a tidal wave. My wand slipped from my hand, clattering to the floor. The bartender stepped forward, his face pale but resolute

"That's enough" he said, his voice firm
"You need to leave"

I didn't argue, I quickly picked up my wand, turned around and stumbled out of the pub. The cold night air hit me like a slap, my vision blurred as I made my way back to the castle, my legs felt weak and unsteady

What was happening to me?

——————————————————

By the time I reach my dormitory, I was shaking, my body was drenched in sweat despite the chill in the air. I collapsed on my bed with my head in my hands, the voice was quieter now almost satisfied

You did well it murmured but it's not enough

I closed my eyes, Hoping for sleep, but the moment I did Solomon was there. He stood at the foot of my bed, his expression unreadable

"Do you think this will bring you peace?" He asked his voice calm but accusing
"You think violence will silence the guilt?"
"go away" I muttered, my voice trembling

He didn't move

"You can't run from this Sebastian"

The room was suffocating, the walls felt like they were closing in. I opened my eyes but he was still there, his gaze boring into mine

"Leave me alone!" I shouted, my voice cracking

But he never did

Each morning I woke up choking on the same nightmare, my breath was shallow and ragged as the darkness crawled up in my throat. It clung to me, wrapped around my chest like an invisible weight, squeezing tighter with every breath I took. I didn't even know how I was still alive, let alone how I'd make it through the day without shattering to pieces

The voice ... the fucking voice never stopped

You're worthless Sebastian

It hissed at me the moment my eyes flickered open, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't escape it. Not even when I closed my eyes again, hoping to drown out the sunlight creeping through the curtains. It was always there whispering in my mind, like a poison seeping into my veins.The days blurred together, each one dragging me further into the abyss. I moved through the castle like a ghost, barely aware of my surroundings, barely aware of myself. Conversations became background noise, the laughter of my classmates a cruel reminder of a life that no longer felt like mine

I kept my head down, my hands clenched into fists so tight my nails dug into my palms. Maybe if I focused on the pain, I could drown out everything else. Maybe if I willed myself to feel something, anything it would be enough to silence the voice

But it never was

It followed me through the corridors, lingered in the spaces between heartbeats. A constant, suffocating presence

You think they don't know?

The voice slithered into my mind, taunting, vicious.

Everyone knows what you did by now

I swallowed hard, forcing my feet to keep moving. I couldn't afford to stop, couldn't let myself be consumed. Not here, not where the walls had ears, where curious eyes watched my every move. By the time I reached the Undercroft, my hands were trembling. I slammed the gate behind me and pressed my back against it, squeezing my eyes shut

It wasn't real, None of it was real

I exhaled shakily, my chest rising and falling in uneven gasps. I just needed a moment. A single moment to gather myself before I lost what little control I had left. Then a sound - soft, hesitant broke through the silence

A quiet pop

I barely had time to register it before a small voice followed

"Mr. Sallow?"

I stiffened. My eyes snapped open to find Tiddle standing a few feet away, her large, worried eyes scanning me with an intensity that made my chest ache. She wrung her hands together, her ears twitching as she took a cautious step closer

"Tiddle has brought food" she said gently, lifting the small tray she carried

"You have not eaten all day"

I swallowed, my throat dry. I hadn't even realised. Hadn't noticed the gnawing emptiness in my stomach, too lost in the weight pressing down on me

"Tiddle" My voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper.

She moved closer, setting the tray down on the bench beside me

"Tiddle worries" she admitted, glancing up at me

"Tiddle notices you in the Great Hall avoiding your plate, and you haven't been to see me in the kitchen lately" Her ears drooped

"You are not eating"

I let out a slow breath, rubbing a hand down my face

"I'm fine"

Tiddle frowned

"No. You are not"

Something in me cracked at that. The exhaustion, the guilt, the relentless voice in my head - it was too much. My hands shook as I let them fall into my lap, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I didn't have the strength to argue. Tiddle hesitated for only a moment before climbing onto the bench beside me, her small frame barely making a dent

"Eat" she said softly

"Please"

I stared at the tray, the scent of warm bread and stew wafting up toward me. My stomach twisted. I didn't want it. Didn't deserve it. But Tiddle didn't move. She just sat there, waiting, her wide eyes full of quiet understanding. She wasn't looking at me the way others did, like I was a lost cause, like I was dangerous

She just cared.

I exhaled slowly, reaching for the spoon with unsteady fingers. The invisible weight pressing down on me didn't lift. But for the first time in days, it didn't feel quite as suffocating. My fingers curled around the spoon, and I forced myself to take a breath. Just one bite. Maybe then she'd leave. Maybe then the crushing weight in my chest would ease, if only for a moment

But just as I brought the spoon to my lips, the voice returned

Disgusting

It was louder this time, seething, crawling beneath my skin like a sickness

You think this will make you better? Think you can shove food down your throat and pretend you're not rotting from the inside out?

My hand froze. The room tilted

Pathetic. Useless. A murderer trying to play human

The spoon clattered against the tray. My breath hitched. I pressed my palms to my temples, squeezing my eyes shut

"Shut up. Shut up. Shut up"

But it wouldn't stop. It never stopped

They all see it, Sebastian. Every last one of them. They know what you are. They know what you did

My breathing turned ragged, my pulse hammering in my skull. My fingers dug into my scalp, harder, harder, nails scraping against skin as if I could claw the voice out of my head. As if I could tear it from me and leave it bleeding on the floor. Tiddle reached for me, her small hand barely brushing my sleeve

"Mr Sallow"

I snapped

With a guttural snarl, I lashed out. The tray went flying, stew and bread crashing to the floor. The cup shattered, the liquid soaking into the stone. Tiddle yelped, stumbling backward, her ears flattening against her head as she stared at me in wide-eyed horror. My chest heaved. My vision blurred. The voice was laughing now, sharp and cruel, its whispers slithering through my skull like poison. I could still feel the phantom weight of my wand in my hand. Could still feel the dark magic surge through my fingertips

Murderer

A scream tore from my throat before I could stop it. A raw, broken thing, like an animal caught in a trap. My hands clawed at my face, at my arms, anywhere I could reach desperate to escape, desperate to make it stop

Then two small hands wrapped around mine. I flinched, instinct screaming at me to shove her away, to fight, to run, to destroy... But I didn't. Tiddle held on tighter, her tiny fingers impossibly firm as she forced my hands down

"No" she whispered. Her voice didn't waver
"No more"

I was shaking. My body, my breath, my entire being trembling like glass on the verge of shattering. Tiddle's grip softened

"Sebastian Sallow" she murmured, and for the first time, my name didn't sound like a curse. It didn't sound like an accusation

It just sounded gentle

Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I clenched my jaw, swallowing the sob that threatened to claw its way up my throat. The room was silent now, save for my ragged breathing. The voice had quieted, retreating into the dark corners of my mind, but I knew it wasn't gone. It never was

As for Tiddle, she didn't move. She didn't speak. She just sat beside me, comforting me

——————————————————

The silence wrapped around us like a heavy cloak, suffocating in its stillness. My breath came slow and uneven, the remnants of my outburst still clawing at my ribs. My hands ached, my nails had bitten too deep into my scalp, and the mess I had made, the wasted food, the stew pooling at my feet felt like a fitting reflection of the chaos in my head

But Tiddle hadn't left

She just sat there, small but unmoving, her fingers still resting against my wrist. Not restraining. Not forcing. Just there

"You need help, Mr. Sallow" she said softly

I didn't respond, Didn't even look at her

Tiddle hesitated before continuing

"Tiddle does not know what is wrong, but she knows it is not right. You should not suffer alone"

The words barely registered at first, drowned out by the endless storm in my head. But then she spoke again

"You need your friends"

I let out a hollow laugh, shaking my head

"I don't have any"
"You do"
"No" I muttered, voice like stone
"I don't"

Tiddle's ears twitched

"Then what is Ominis?"

I stiffened. Not him. Anyone but him

"He would know what to do" she pressed

A bitter scoff left my lips

"Ominis? You really think he'd help me?"

Tiddle tilted her head

"Tiddle thinks he already has"

I frowned, my grip tightening against my knees

"You don't know what you're talking about"

Her voice remained calm, unwavering

"He was the one you went to that night"

My breath hitched

The memory surfaced like a ghost rising from the depths. My hands were shaking. My heart was hammering in my chest. I could taste the bile at the back of my throat.. and then Ominis's voice

'Sebastian... what happened'

I had told him the truth. I hadn't seen the point in lying. Not to him. Not when the curse was still lingering on my fingertips. He was furious, upset... but he had listened

And he hadn't turned me in

I'd spent so long convincing myself that no one was on my side, that Ominis had abandoned me like the rest of them. But that night, despite everything, he had been there, and then there was the conversation

'I don't want to lose Sebastian, but I don't think we have a choice'

I had left before they could say anything else. My rage had clouded everything. I had convinced myself they were plotting against me, that they would have turned me in given the chance... But would they? I was still here, wasn't I? If they had truly wanted to get rid of me, I wouldn't be here. Tiddle's voice broke through the haze again, soft but certain

"You do not have to do this alone, Mr. Sallow"

The words hit me like a curse

'You don't have to do this alone, Sebastian'

It was like a thread being pulled, unraveling something I hadn't even realised was buried

Alora had said those words to me after coming back from the catacomb, after I had ruined everything. She looked at me like I was still someone, Like she still saw the boy I used to be. I've been too consumed by my own anger, by my own hatred to even remember. I sucked in a sharp breath, my pulse roaring in my ears.

How much had I forgotten? How much had I thrown away?

And if Ominis and Alora had truly wanted me gone then why wasn't I rotting in a cell?

Why was I still here?

Tiddle watched me closely, her large eyes unwavering

"Tiddle thinks Mr Gaunt would listen. If you let him"

I exhaled shakily, my throat tight, my mind a tangled mess of rage, doubt, and something else, something quieter

Something that almost sounded like hope

 

Chapter 31: Beneath the surface

Notes:

Sebastian’s POV

*Fifth Year*

The Undercroft felt different now. The air was colder, heavier, as if the very stones held the weight of my despair. It was a place I once sought refuge in, but now it felt suffocating. Like a tomb. A place where things went to die. I had walked here with a single purpose, but now that I was standing in front of Ominis, it felt harder to breathe. His back was to me when I arrived, and I could hear him softly muttering to himself as his fingers traced the worn lines of his wand. He didn't need to hear me for long. He knew I was there

 

"You're late" he said, his tone flat, but the tension in the room was palpable

 

I didn't respond. My mouth felt dry. It was like all the words I had rehearsed in my head had vanished, leaving me to stare at the back of his head like a fool. Ominis's head turned slightly

 

"Somethings wrong"

 

His words cut through the fog in my mind, but I didn't know how to explain it. How could I? How could I tell him the darkness that was eating me alive from the inside? The rage that never stopped clawing, the voice that wouldn't leave me alone? I shook my head, trying to push it all back

 

"It's nothing"

 

He didn't buy it

 

Ominis shifted toward me, his hand resting on the hilt of his wand as if ready to defend himself from some unseen enemy

 

"Sebastian" he said, his voice low but insistent

"What's really going on?"

 

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come. There was so much. So much I hadn't let anyone see. Not Ominis, not even Alora, but the silence between us stretched and I couldn't bear it anymore

 

"I haven't slept properly in weeks" I finally admitted, my voice barely a whisper

"I can't eat. Every time I try, it feels like something is clawing at my throat, telling me I don't deserve it. I just— I can't do it anymore, Ominis" 

 

He didn't say anything, but I could feel his attention sharpen, his presence pulling tighter around me. The usual, steady calm he exuded was gone, replaced by something darker - concern, frustration, maybe even fear. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to hold myself together

 

"I hear a voice... It-it never stops" My hands shook as I gripped my arm tightly, as if trying to keep the world from slipping away

"It's in my head all the time. It tells me to do things... bad things.. It tells me I'm worthless. That I'll never be good enough. That I'll never be anything if I don't do what it says" 

 

I could feel Ominis's gaze on me, though I couldn't meet it. He was waiting for me to say more. To let it all spill out. But I couldn't stop it now

 

"I'm just so angry" I continued, each word cutting deeper

"All the time.. I can't control it. And when I do - when I feel it, I just want to hurt something. Hurt someone. Anything to make it stop"

 

Ominis inhaled sharply, his hands trembling just the slightest bit. I saw his fingers twitch as if he was ready to reach out to me, but I pulled back, as though the touch would burn me. But it was too much. The words I had kept inside for so long, the guilt, the rage - it was all spilling out, and I couldn't stop it anymore

 

"I've hurt too many people, Ominis. Too many. I hurt Alora. I almost—" I broke off, my throat constricting as the memory flashed in front of me

"I could have killed her. And I don't know how to make it stop"

 

Ominis didn't speak. He didn't say a word, but his silence was a weight I could feel pressing against my chest. His presence was like a distant storm, powerful, but barely controlled

 

"I can't keep doing this" I whispered, my voice barely audible

"I can't keep living like this. And I don't want to hurt anyone else"

 

There was a long, aching pause before I finally said the words that had been clawing at me

 

"I'm starting to think the world would be a much better place if I weren't in it"

 

It was like I had dropped a bomb. The silence that followed was deafening. His face, usually so guarded, now cracked with an emotion I couldn't read. He took a step toward me, his hand reaching out, but I pulled back again

 

"I don't want to die" I said, my voice trembling now, all the emotion I'd buried flooding out

"But I can't keep living with this in my head. With the anger. With the pain"

 

Ominis didn't react right away. His eyes were dark with something close to panic, but he didn't speak. He was thinking. Calculating. His fingers twitched again, but he didn't act

 

"I can't do this, Ominis" I said, the words ragged as I struggled to control my breathing

"I can't be like this anymore. I can't live with what I've done. What I'm doing. I don't know how to make it stop"

 

For a long moment, Ominis said nothing. I was certain he could feel the weight of what I'd just said, the depth of my despair. The weeks of pain, of rage, and regret that I had carried with me. And then he spoke, his voice softer now but still filled with authority

 

"There's only one thing we can do" he said, his tone steady but low, like a careful confession

 

I looked at him, confused

 

"What?"

 

Ominis exhaled, his voice quiet but final

 

"We need to go to my father"

 

I recoiled

 

"Your father? Ominis, no"

"I know" he interrupted

"I don't want to either. But he's one of the most powerful dark wizards in the world, if anyone knows what's going on with you, it'll be him"

 

I stepped back, shaking my head

 

"You want me to go to him? Are you sure we can trust him?"

 

Ominis's face softened, just the slightest bit

 

"He's the only chance we've got right now" His voice was quiet, filled with a quiet desperation I hadn't expected

"Besides I know you think you're beyond saving, but I'm not going to let you destroy yourself. Not like this"

 

My breath hitched. I wasn't sure if it was the relief of finally being heard, or the terror of what was coming next. But either way, something inside of me broke. Ominis took another step forward, placing a hand gently on my shoulder

 

"I'll speak to my father. We'll go together"

 

I nodded, though my mind was still reeling

 

"She doesn't need to know about any of this" I said quietly, but there was steel behind the words

"Please, Ominis. Don't tell her"

 

Ominis's eyes narrowed

 

"Alora?"

 

I clenched my jaw. Even hearing her name felt like it ripped something open

 

"Yes. I don't want her involved. She's been through enough because of me. I won't - I can't drag her into this. Not anymore"

"Sebastian, she-"

"She deserves peace" I interrupted, my voice low but firm

"More than anyone. And I've done nothing but take that from her"

 

Ominis hesitated, his lips pressed together in a thin line. He didn't agree - not fully, but he wasn't going to push. At least, not right now. For a long moment, he said nothing. The tension in the room stretched thin, and I could feel his conflict, his loyalty to me and his loyalty to the truth. But in the end, he nodded once

 

"Fine" he said "I won't tell her"

 

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening as the weight of the conversation settled over me

 

"Thank you, Ominis"

 

Ominis turned toward the door, his grip on his wand tightening

 

"Look out for my owl"

 

 

——————————————

 

 

The weekend had been unbearable. Every hour felt like it dragged on for days, each second weighed down by the relentless voice in my head. It was no longer a faint whisper or fleeting thought. It had rooted itself deep, feeding on every ounce of doubt and anger until I couldn't trust myself. Its words were insidious, seductive, promising me strength in one breath and destruction in the next. The only way I knew to stop it was to stay hidden. I spent Saturday and Sunday locked away in the darker corners of the castle, avoiding anyone who might look too closely. Especially Alora. I couldn't let her see me like this. unraveling at the seams. Her knowing gaze would strip me bare, and I'd crumble beneath the weight of whatever I saw reflected in her eyes. She didn't need another reason to regret everything

 

By Sunday night, my patience was paper-thin. I sat by a frozen window in the Astronomy Tower, counting the hours until Ominis's promised owl arrived. The skies were clear and cold, stars glittering like glass shards against the night. My breath fogged the glass, obscuring the view until at last the silhouette of an owl broke through the darkness. It swooped in, landing on the stone sill with a soft thud. My hands trembled as I pulled the letter from its leg, the wax seal broke easily.

 

It is arranged. Meet me in the Undercroft after curfew. We leave for Gaunt Manor tonight.

Ominis 

 

The relief was immediate but fleeting. Ominis had done it, he had convinced his father. I knew he would, but some small, bitter part of me had prepared for disappointment anyway. Gaunt Manor wasn't a safe haven. It was the last place anyone wanted to go, least of all Ominis. But it was my only chance. I folded the note and slipped it into my pocket. My mind raced as I pushed away from the window, already planning what little I would take. There was no point in dragging half of Hogwarts with me. A spare set of clothes, my wand, and the necklace. When I reached my dormitory, I made quick work of it. My bag was light when I finished packing, though the weight of the necklace made it feel heavier than it should. I held the small charm in my hand, turning it over once before tucking it away. Its secrets burned brighter than ever in the back of my mind. I didn't know how long I'd be gone, but part of me knew I wouldn't be taking it with me

 

I slipped out of the dormitory unnoticed, my footsteps light against the stone floors. The castle was silent, every sound amplified by the stillness. I moved without hesitation, my muscles remembering the patrol routes and blind spots as if I were still sneaking away from the Prefects. No one saw me. No one stopped me. And soon enough, I reached the Undercroft. The gate creaked as It slid open. Ominis stood by the far wall, wand raised and casting a faint, red glow over the stone chamber. His eyes, though unseeing, tracked my movements the moment I entered. His expression was sharp, and his shoulders were tense though whether from anger or worry, I couldn't tell

 

"You're late" he said, though his tone lacked its usual bite.

"I got your owl" I said, the gate closing behind me

"Thanks for this, for everything"

 

Ominis nodded, but his features didn't soften

"My father's waiting. We need to leave soon"

 

I crossed the room, leaning against the cool stone to catch my breath

 

"I'm ready"

 

Ominis's lips twitched, almost as if he didn't believe me

 

"Are you?"

 

No. I wasn't. But it didn't matter. I'd passed the point of hesitation a long time ago

 

"We're wasting time" I said instead

 

Ominis studied me for a moment longer before nodding

 

"We'll Apparate directly to the estate" His hand tightened around his wand

"I hope you know what you're walking into"

 

I didn't answer. Instead, I reached into my pocket, feeling the cold metal of Alora's necklace one last time. I had no right to hold on to it, not when I'd failed her in so many ways. She deserved answers, even if I couldn't give them to her myself. Without a word, I let the necklace slip from my fingers. It landed on the stone floor with a faint clink, the sound echoing through the empty chamber. The sight of it sitting there, small and unassuming felt like a final goodbye. Ominis's head tilted at the noise, but he didn't comment. He simply stepped closer, raising his wand

 

"Take my arm"

 

I did as he asked

 

"Hold tight" he said softly

 

The world twisted. Apparition was always unpleasant, like being squeezed through a too-narrow tube, but this time it was worse. The crushing pressure in my chest threatened to suffocate me, and I felt the edges of my consciousness blur. When the sensation finally stopped, we landed hard on uneven ground. The air was colder here. Damp. Heavy with the scent of decayed leaves and old stone. I lifted my gaze, and there it was: Gaunt Manor. Its silhouette rose against the night sky like a crumbling tomb, dark and foreboding. Windows gaped like hollow eyes, and the distant cry of some wild beast echoed through the nearby forest. Ominis didn't speak. He simply began walking, his posture stiff and his face unreadable. I followed, my steps slower and more hesitant

 

the reality of what lay ahead settled like a weight on my chest. Whatever happened at the Gaunt Manor, I knew one thing for certain - there was no turning back.

 

 

——————————————

 

The moment we stepped inside, the cold wrapped around me like a second skin. The air was thick with dust and age, carrying the faint scent of damp stone and something else—something sharp, metallic, like old blood. The flickering candlelight barely cut through the vast darkness, leaving shadows to pool in the corners of the enormous entry hall. It was clear that Gaunt Manor had once been grand, but now, it stood on the edge of decay, clinging to its former prestige like a corpse dressed in fine robes. The butler—an older man with sunken features and a spine as straight as a ruler—greeted us with a curt nod. He was dressed in black, his uniform pristine, though his eyes held a dull, almost lifeless quality.

 

"Master Ominis," he said, voice gravelly with age. "It has been some time."

"Not long enough," Ominis muttered under his breath.

 

The butler's gaze flickered to me, but he said nothing as he reached for our bags. I hesitated for a moment, my instincts screaming not to let a stranger handle my things, but Ominis was already handing his over. Reluctantly, I followed suit.

 

Ominis let out a slow breath. 

 

"Come on. I'll show you around."

 

He didn't wait for a response, just started walking, his wand casting an eerie glow against the towering stone walls. I followed, my boots echoing against the cold marble floors.

 

"The manor is bigger than it looks," Ominis said, his tone flat. "Not that it was ever welcoming." He dragged his fingers along the wall as we passed a long corridor, his expression unreadable. "I spent most of my childhood trying to avoid being noticed. It's easy to get lost here. I once wandered the halls for hours before I found my way back to my room."

 

I glanced at him, but he didn't elaborate. Instead, he led me through a massive sitting room, its furniture covered in thick sheets, as if the house itself had given up on being lived in. The fireplace at the far end was unlit, its iron grate rusted, and the towering bookshelves along the walls were coated in layers of dust.

 

"My father prefers the upper floors," Ominis continued. "This level was mostly for show. Formal gatherings, meetings... punishment." 

 

He paused, his fingers tightening around his wand

 

"I hated this house."

 

I didn't press him, but I could hear it in his voice—old memories clawing their way to the surface. A movement in the doorway caught my attention, and I turned to see a woman standing there. Ominis straightened immediately. 

 

"Mother."

 

She was tall, with striking features that mirrored her son's—pale skin, sharp cheekbones, and the same icy blonde hair. But where Ominis's expressions were guarded, hers were unreadable, her presence commanding in a way that was almost unnerving. Despite the chill in the air, she was dressed elegantly, her robes pristine, her hands folded neatly in front of her.

 

"Ominis," she greeted, her tone cool but not unkind. "It has been too long."

 

"Not by my choice," he replied stiffly.

 

Her lips pressed into a thin line before her gaze flickered to me. 

 

"And you must be Sebastian Sallow."

 

I dipped my head slightly. 

 

"Mrs. Gaunt."

 

She studied me for a moment before nodding.

 

"You look exhausted. Both of you." She turned, motioning for us to follow. "Come, I won't have you standing around like stray cats in a storm. The house is cold enough as it is."

 

We followed her into what must have been a dining room at some point, though the long table looked untouched, the fine silverware dulled from disuse.

 

"Are you hungry?" she asked, her voice softer now. "There is food if you wish to eat."

 

I exchanged a glance with Ominis. He shook his head. 

 

"It's late. We should rest."

 

His mother sighed but didn't argue. "Your father will expect to see you both in the morning," she said instead. "He's had other matters to attend to this evening."

 

Ominis tensed. 

 

"Of course he has."

 

She hesitated for a fraction of a second before adding

 

"It will be... best if you are both well-rested."

 

I didn't miss the way her fingers twitched slightly at her sides, or the way her gaze darted to Ominis before settling back into cold neutrality. There was something in her tone—something careful, restrained.

 

Ominis nodded. 

 

"Then I'll take my old room."

"And I'll take whatever guest room is available," I added.

 

She gave me a small, tight-lipped smile. 

 

"There are many."

 

With that, she turned and motioned for the butler, who reappeared as if summoned from the shadows.

 

 "Show them to their rooms."

 

Ominis's room was the first stop. He hesitated at the doorway, fingers tightening around the frame before he stepped inside. He didn't look back, didn't say another word before closing the door behind him.

The butler led me further down the corridor, stopping before a large wooden door. He pushed it open, revealing a guest room that looked as though it had been abandoned for years. The furniture was old but still regal—carved mahogany, a four-poster bed, thick drapes that hadn't been drawn in a long time. The air inside was stale, and dust clung to the edges of the rug like frost.

 

"This will be your room," the butler said simply.

 

I stepped inside, the floor creaking slightly beneath my boots. It was clear the room had either never been used or hadn't seen a guest in decades. The sheets were crisp but smelled faintly of lavender, as if someone had hastily freshened them up before I arrived. The butler lingered for a moment before inclining his head. 

 

"Good night, Master Sallow."

 

I waited until the door shut behind him before exhaling, running a hand through my hair. The weight of exhaustion hit me all at once, but sleep wouldn't come easily tonight—not in a place like this. I moved to the window, peering out at the vast, empty grounds. The moonlight barely reached the twisted trees that surrounded the manor like prison bars. There was an unnatural stillness to the place, a sense of being watched even when I was alone.

 

Tomorrow, I would meet Ominis's father.

 

Tomorrow, I would face whatever this house held.

Chapter 32: The Serpents Den

Notes:

Sebastian’s POV

*Fifth Year*

The night was suffocating.

 

Gaunt Manor was a mausoleum, a place where light barely reached and warmth had long since died. The air was thick, heavy with something unseen, something watching, waiting. I could feel it, pressing against my chest, curling around my throat like a noose. The darkness here wasn't just emptiness—it was alive. And the voice... the voice was thriving.

 

It started as a whisper, a slither in the back of my skull.

 

You shouldn't have come here, Sebastian

 

I clenched my jaw, squeezing my eyes shut. I wouldn't listen.

 

You think you can ignore me? Here? 

 

It chuckled, low and guttural, sending a shiver down my spine. 

 

This place is soaked in power. It feeds me. It feeds us.

 

I turned onto my side, gripping the sheets with white-knuckled hands.

 

But the dreams came anyway.

 

I was back in the catacomb.

 

The cold seeped into my bones, the scent of decay thick in my lungs. The torchlight flickered, casting sickly shadows across the stone walls lined with skulls—watching, grinning.

 

Solomon stood before me. His face was not as I remembered. It was twisted, distorted with something inhuman. His mouth opened, but his voice came out wrong—deep and jagged, layered with something that scraped against my mind like rusted metal.

 

"She cannot be saved, Sebastian!."

 

I tried to move, to speak, but my body wasn't my own.

 

I watched—helpless—as my hand lifted, wand aimed.

 

"Avada Kedavra!"

 

The words rolled off my tongue like silk.

 

The green light erupted, striking him dead before he even hit the ground. His body crumpled, unmoving, lifeless. The magic surged through me, thick and intoxicating, sinking into my skin, my bones, my very soul. It burned through my veins like fire and ice, curling around my heart, embedding itself into every fiber of my being.

 

And then I laughed. A cold, hollow sound. It echoed through the catacomb, rattling against the walls, bleeding into the dark. The voice coiled around me, stroking my mind like a lover's hand.

 

You feel it now, don't you?

 

"No."

 

Liar.

 

I felt it grin, teeth gleaming in the abyss of my mind.

 

You revel in it. The way the power claimed you. The way it changed you.

 

"No," I rasped, twisting beneath the sheets. The room was suffocating. My body was on fire.

 

Don't fight it. You belong to me now.

 

I thrashed violently, the air thick and wrong, choking me.

 

Let go.

 

The catacomb flickered out of existence.

 

I was back in my bed, drenched in sweat, gasping for breath. The walls loomed around me, the shadows stretching and writhing in the dim candlelight. My pulse slammed against my ribs, my head pounding with a force that made my vision blur.

 

The voice purred in delight.

 

This house wakes me, Sebastian 

 

My hands trembled as I wiped my damp face. The sheets were tangled around me, twisted and clawed at like I had been fighting something in my sleep. Maybe I had.... I turned my head, forcing my eyes to the window. The first streaks of dawn painted the sky, the golden light spilling across the grounds. The twisted trees, which had been monstrous in the night, now stood still, bathed in the soft glow of morning. For a brief moment, the sight calmed me.

 

Then the voice laughed.

 

Pretty, isn't it? But even the light won't save you. Not here.

 

I gritted my teeth, ignoring the ache in my skull as I glanced at the clock.

 

6 a.m.

 

Too early to wake anyone. Too late to try and sleep again. I needed air.

 

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I barely flinched as my feet touched the ice-cold floor. I reached for my wand—then hesitated. I didn't trust myself with it right now. Instead, I grabbed a heavy cloak, throwing it over my shoulders before slipping out into the hallway.

 

The manor was deathly silent, save for the distant groan of wood settling in the cold. The corridors stretched endlessly in the dim morning light, their walls lined with ancient tapestries, each one depicting the long, twisted lineage of the Gaunt family. Their ancestors sneered down at me from cracked portraits, their eyes moving.

 

I ignored them.

 

The air here was thick, pressing down on me, making my skin crawl. It was as if the manor breathed, shifting in the darkness, whispering secrets in a language only the dead could understand.

 

And the voice...

 

The voice was starving.

 

You should stay, Sebastian. You could learn so much here.

 

My hands curled into fists.

 

You're already mine. You've always been mine.

 

I gritted my teeth, pressing forward, forcing my breathing to steady.

 

The house loomed around me, its silence deafening.

 

But I would not let it swallow me whole.

 

——————————————

 

The kitchen was eerily quiet.

 

Unlike the grand halls and looming corridors of Gaunt Manor, this room felt... abandoned. The stone walls were dark with soot, the long wooden table scratched and dented from years of neglect. A single candle flickered on the counter, casting long, wavering shadows across the cold floor.

 

It was colder here than in the rest of the house, as if warmth had been driven out, banished like an unwelcome guest.

 

I exhaled sharply, my breath visible in the frigid air. I wasn't even sure why I had come here. I had simply walked, needing to escape the crushing weight of my own thoughts, and somehow ended up in this forgotten corner of the manor.

 

But I wasn't alone.

 

The moment I turned, I saw him. A man leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, eyes sharp and calculating. He was taller than Ominis, older by a few years, his dark hair falling just past his shoulders in loose waves. His features were sharp, aristocratic—cut from the same pure-blooded mold as the rest of the Gaunt family—but where Ominis carried himself with quiet defiance, this man radiated something else entirely.

 

Arrogance.

 

Power.

 

Danger.

 

I recognised him immediately.

 

Marvolo Gaunt.

 

Ominis' older brother.

 

He studied me in silence, his head tilting slightly as if assessing a stray dog that had wandered into his home.

 

"You're Sebastian Sallow."

 

It wasn't a question. His voice was smooth but edged with something sharp, something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

 

I forced myself to hold his gaze.

 

"I am."

 

Marvolo exhaled through his nose, amusement flickering in his expression. 

 

"Interesting. Father mentioned you might be coming." 

 

He straightened, stepping further into the room, his boots clicking softly against the stone floor. 

 

"I didn't expect you to arrive so soon. And certainly not to find you lurking in our kitchen."

 

I clenched my jaw. 

 

"I wasn't lurking."

 

His lips curved, but there was no warmth in the expression.

 

"Right." 

 

He moved past me, reaching for a bottle of something dark and thick from the counter. He poured himself a drink, not bothering to offer me one, then leaned back against the table, watching me over the rim of his glass. 

 

"So, tell me, Sallow. What exactly brings you here? What could you possibly need from our father?"

 

The way he said it—our father—made it clear that whatever reason I had, he was already unimpressed.

I hesitated. It wasn't that I didn't have an answer. I just wasn't sure I wanted to give it to him.

 

Marvolo noticed, his smirk widened. 

 

"Ah. That kind of visit."

 

I narrowed my eyes. 

 

"What kind of visit?"

"The kind where a desperate boy comes begging for scraps of wisdom he doesn't deserve." 

 

He took a slow sip of his drink, letting the words hang between us like a challenge. 

 

"The kind where someone like you—a nobody—thinks he can walk into this house and demand something from us."

 

A cold anger flared in my chest. I had met plenty of people like him before. People who thought their bloodline made them untouchable. People who thought power was something they were born with rather than something you took for yourself.

 

"I didn't demand anything" My voice was even, but there was steel beneath it. 

"I came here because I was invited. Your father is expecting me."

 

Marvolo scoffed. 

 

"Is he?" He set his glass down, stepping closer. 

"And what exactly do you think he'll do for you, Sallow? Fix your problems? Take you under his wing? Teach you real magic?"

 

I didn't answer because I didn't know.

 

I had no idea what I expected from Lord Gaunt. No idea if he'd even be willing to help. But I knew one thing. I was not going to be spoken down to by a Gaunt.

 

Marvolo watched me, waiting for a reaction, waiting for me to flinch. But before I could open my mouth, another voice cut through the tension.

 

"Marvolo."

 

Ominis.

 

His tone was flat, but I could hear the underlying irritation in it. He stepped into the room, his pale eyes flicking toward where his brother stood. He wasn't dressed in his usual pristine Hogwarts uniform but rather a set of simple, dark robes. His hair was slightly mussed, as if he'd only just woken up.

 

Marvolo turned lazily, unfazed. 

 

"Brother."

 

Ominis sighed. 

 

"It's too early for your nonsense."

 

Marvolo smirked, but there was something in his expression that sharpened—something almost pleased. 

 

"I was only making conversation. You know how I love getting to know your little... friends."

 

Ominis' jaw tensed. 

 

"Sebastian isn't your concern."

 

Marvolo raised an eyebrow. 

 

"Oh? Isn't he? He's asking our father for something. That makes him very much my concern."

 

Ominis took a step closer. His voice was quieter now, but edged with warning. 

 

"Mind your own business, Marvolo."

 

The air in the room seemed to tighten.

 

For a brief moment, Marvolo simply looked at him, as if measuring how far he could push before crossing a line. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he stepped back, raising his hands in mock surrender.

 

"Fine. I'll let you babysit your pet in peace."

 

He turned his gaze back to me, and for the first time, his expression darkened.

 

"But remember this, Sallow."

 

His voice dropped lower, something like genuine menace creeping into his tone.

 

"Whatever it is you're looking for here—you may not like what you find."

 

With that, he grabbed his drink and strode past me, his presence lingering even after he disappeared down the hall.

 

The silence stretched.

 

"I hate him," Ominis muttered, rubbing his temples.

 

I let out a breath I hadn't realised I was holding. 

 

"Yeah. I can see why"

 

——————————————

 

The weight of Gaunt Manor pressed down on me as I made my way back to my room. The shadows stretched long in the corridors, twisting into shapes I didn't want to name. The air was thick, humming with something ancient, something wrong. It clung to my skin, curled in my lungs, coiling around my mind like a serpent waiting to strike.

 

The voice in my head had been quiet since last night. But it wasn't gone.

 

It was watching.

 

Waiting.

 

I exhaled sharply, rolling the tension from my shoulders. I just need to get through this meeting.

Ominis walked beside me in silence, his expression unreadable. When we reached our rooms, he finally spoke.

 

"Get dressed. My father will want to see us soon." His voice was tight, careful.

 

I nodded but didn't move right away. 

 

"Ominis... are you sure about this?"

 

A pause. Then, without turning, he murmured

 

"No."

 

Then he disappeared into his room. The unease curling in my stomach sank deeper, but I shoved it aside and stepped into my own quarters. The guest room smelled of dust and disuse, the furniture looming like something watching me from the dark. I dressed quickly, fastening the buttons on my coat with stiff fingers. My gaze flickered to the window, The manor grounds were eerily beautiful under the early morning light, but they felt lifeless. A place untouched by warmth, by love—only duty, bloodlines, and cruelty. A fitting home for the Gaunts.

 

A sharp knock at my door snapped me out of my thoughts. It was time.

 

The walk to Lord Gaunt's study was slow and heavy. The halls stretched on longer than they should have, lined with towering portraits of dead ancestors whose eyes followed me as I passed. Ominis said nothing, his hands curled into fists at his sides. When we reached the heavy wooden doors, he hesitated only briefly before pushing them open. The study was vast, lined with bookshelves that clawed toward the ceiling. A fire crackled low in the hearth, throwing long shadows against the stone walls. The scent of old parchment and something else—something rotting—lingered in the air.

 

And there, standing with his back to us, was Lord Gaunt.

 

He was tall and sharp-boned, dark hair combed back neatly. His hands were clasped behind him, his posture stiff as he gazed out the window.

 

No warmth.

 

No greeting.

 

Just silence.

 

Then—

 

"You're late."

 

His voice was smooth, controlled, but there was something beneath it. Something cold. I felt Ominis stiffen beside me.

 

"Father," he greeted evenly.

 

Lord Gaunt turned slowly. His sharp gray eyes flicked to Ominis first, then landed on me. He studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

 

"So," he murmured, voice thoughtful. "This is the boy my son has dragged into our house."

 

His gaze was piercing, like he was peeling back my skin to see what lay beneath.

 

I held his stare. 

 

"Sir."

 

Lord Gaunt barely acknowledged the greeting before turning his attention back to Ominis.

 

"Well?" he said. "Speak."

 

Ominis took a slow breath before launching into the explanation. He told his father everything. How the voice in my head had been growing stronger. How dark magic had been digging into my mind, twisting its roots deeper and deeper.

 

And then the part I had been dreading. Ominis didn't soften the truth. He told him about the night in the catacombs. About Solomon's death. About the Killing Curse. My breath felt tight in my chest, but I forced my body to stay still. I knew how dangerous it was to reveal such a thing—especially to a Gaunt.

 

For a long time, Lord Gaunt said nothing. Then, he exhaled sharply through his nose. 

 

"Ah."

 

Something shifted in the air. When he finally spoke again, his voice was different. Curious.

 

"You killed your uncle," he mused, stepping forward. "Tell me, boy... how did it feel?"

 

A slow, crawling sickness twisted in my stomach.

 

I clenched my jaw. 

 

"I didn't have a choice."

 

Lord Gaunt hummed, unconvinced. 

 

"Is that so?" He tilted his head slightly, eyes searching, dissecting. 

"You wielded a power that most fear. A power most refuse to use, even when necessary. And yet, you did." A pause. Then—his lips curled at the edges.

"I wonder... did it excite you?"

 

My nails bit into my palms. 

 

"No."

 

A lie.

 

Or maybe not. I wasn't sure anymore.

 

Lord Gaunt studied me a moment longer before giving a small, disappointed sigh. 

 

"Pity."

 

My blood ran cold. I knew coming here was a mistake. This man—this house—it was feeding the darkness inside me. Encouraging it. I needed to get out of here.

 

Now.

 

Without another word, I turned on my heel and walked out of the study. I didn't go far. My pulse pounded in my ears as I pressed myself against the stone wall just outside the door. I should have left, but something in me refused to move. I had to know what was being said. Inside, Ominis' voice was tight, urgent.

 

"Father, please. You're our last hope—we need to do something."

 

A long pause. Then, a sigh.

 

"That bad, is it?"

 

The chair creaked. Footsteps.

 

"I suppose there is one thing we could do."

 

My breath caught in my throat.

 

Ominis was silent for a moment before finally asking

 

"What is it?"

 

The next pause was longer. Heavier.

 

"We can Obliviate him"

 

Everything inside me turned to ice. I barely heard Ominis' sharp inhale over the rushing in my ears. They were going to erase my memories. A violent jolt of panic shot through me. I had to get out of here.

 

Heart hammering, breath sharp in my throat, I turned and ran. The cold air of the manor burned in my lungs as I bolted through the corridors, my boots slamming against the stone floors. My vision blurred, my mind screaming at me to move faster, faster. I needed time to think. I needed to get away from them.

 

I reached my room and shoved the door open, slamming it shut behind me. My chest heaved, every muscle in my body taut with panic. My back pressed against the door, hands gripping the wood so hard my knuckles turned white.

 

The voice in my head chuckled darkly.

 

You should have known better, Sebastian 

 

——————————————

 

The hours slipped by in silence.

 

I sat in the dimly lit guest room, fingers laced together, staring at the flickering fire. The heat licked at my skin, but I felt nothing. Ominis's words echoed in my head.

 

"We can Obliviate you."

 

Erase the voice. The darkness. The guilt.

 

Erase everything.

 

I squeezed my eyes shut. My temples throbbed with the weight of the decision.

 

"You could lose your memories of your family. Of me… Of Alora."

 

That part had struck something deep inside me. I had barely reacted when he'd said it. Just nodded stiffly, taking in the weight of it. But now, left alone with my thoughts, the reality settled in. If I did this, I wouldn't know her.

 

I wouldn't remember the way she looked at me that first night in the Undercroft, her eyes alight with something unspoken. I wouldn't remember the way she whispered my name when no one else was listening, like it was meant only for her. Would she still look at me the same way if I didn't remember? Would I still feel the same way, even if my mind had been rewritten?

 

I ran a hand through my hair, gripping the strands tight. I had no family left. Solomon was dead by my hand. Anne was gone. Ominis had been my only constant.

 

And Alora...

 

Oh, Alora.

 

She had been the one thing keeping me tethered. The one thing that made the world feel a little less unbearable. My chest tightened as the memories came flooding in.

 

The first time I saw her—wide-eyed, curious, with something sharp beneath the surface. She had been different from the others, something about her pulling me in before I even knew what it meant. The late nights in the Undercroft, the whispered conversations, the shared secrets. The arguments. The desperation. The first time I kissed her. The first time she said my name like it meant something.

 

The necklace.

 

I swallowed hard, the memory sharp and unrelenting. I had left it behind in the Undercroft. I didn't know why, not fully, but I'd had a feeling. An instinct. If I lost everything, that necklace would still hold the truth. I let out a slow breath, my decision settling in my bones like something final. 

 

The reason I was okay with having my memories wiped, was because it didn't matter how many times I reset the story, or remade the introductions...  I knew I'd always fall in love with Alora.

 

Every single time.

 

The realisation brought a strange kind of peace. I reached for the parchment and quill on the desk, the ink bottle trembling slightly as I uncorked it. Then, without hesitation, I began to write. When Ominis knocked on my door again, I was ready. The letter was sealed in my hand, my grip firm but calm. Ominis stepped inside, his expression careful. I could tell he was giving me one last chance to back out.

 

I didn't.

 

Instead, I extended the letter toward him. His brows furrowed slightly. 

 

"What's this?"

"If something happens... if I forget—" I exhaled slowly. "Give this to Alora."

 

Ominis hesitated before taking it. He didn't ask what I had written.

 

He just nodded.

 

"Are you sure?" he asked quietly.

 

My fingers curled at my sides. 

 

"I'm sure."

 

With nothing left to say, we left the room together.

 

The halls of the manor were silent as we made our way to Lord Gaunt's study. The air was heavy, thick with something I couldn't quite name. Ominis walked beside me, his face impassive, but I could feel the tension rolling off him. The study felt colder this time, the shadows deeper. The air was thick with something I couldn't name, something pressing against my chest.

 

Lord Gaunt barely spared me a glance before speaking.

 

"You've made your decision, then."

 

It wasn't a question. I nodded once. His lips curled into something resembling a smirk. 

 

"Smart boy."

 

I didn't respond.

 

He gestured toward the empty chair in front of him. 

 

"Sit."

 

My body felt strangely detached as I moved forward and lowered myself into the seat. My heartbeat was steady, my breathing slow. Lord Gaunt raised his wand, twirling it between his fingers.

 

"This is delicate magic," he mused. "A complete wipe is impossible. Memories have roots—they cling to one another. Severing one too deeply could unravel more than intended."

 

Ominis stiffened. 

 

"How much will he lose?"

 

The man smirked.

 

 "Difficult to say. The death of his uncle, certainly. Perhaps more."

 

Something sharp twisted in my chest. All I could think about was Alora. Lord Gaunt gave me one last look.

 

 "Final chance to back out."

 

I swallowed hard, shaking my head slowly. I needed to do this

 

"Now, let's see... a natural outcome, yes?" His tone was almost amused.

 

He flicked his wand, and I barely had time to brace myself before—

 

Obliviate.

 

The world blurred at the edges. I felt weightless. Disconnected. Like I was unraveling from the inside out.

 

For a brief moment, I swore I heard Alora's voice—soft, distant, like an echo through time.

 

Then—

 

Nothing.

Chapter 33: The things we don’t say

"Yes” I said.

 

And just like that, I'd sealed it. I was going to open it.

 

Poppy stood there for a beat longer, watching me with something like worry flickering behind her eyes. Her gaze drifted to the letter again, then back to me. She didn't press me for more—she never did.

 

"I think you should be alone when you read it," she said gently, offering a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "But... I'll be in my common room later, if you need me."

 

"Thank you," I murmured, the words barely making it past the lump in my throat.

 

She gave my arm a small squeeze before she turned and disappeared down the corridor, her footsteps quickly swallowed by the quiet of the castle at night. I stood there for a moment, still clutching the envelope in both hands like it might vanish if I let go. Then, without thinking, I turned on my heel and made my way toward the Room of Requirement. It was the only place I could go where the walls knew what I needed better than I did.

 

When I reached the spot on the seventh floor, I passed three times, focusing only on the thought: somewhere safe to read it. The door melted into view.

 

I slipped inside.

 

The room was empty tonight, soft and warm. I was thankful Deek wasn't here this evening. I made my way towards the single armchair that sat before the modest fire, a small table rested beside it. The light was dim, the air calm. Everything was exactly what I needed—and nothing more. 

 

I sank into the chair. My hands were still trembling as I turned the envelope over again. July 21st, 1890. My name, written in that sharp, familiar script. His handwriting. His name sealed in wax.

 

I broke it.

 

Unfolded the parchment slowly, like it might tear if I rushed it.

 

And then I read:

 

Alora,

 

If you're reading this, then I've forgotten you.

 

And if I've forgotten you... then I've forgotten everything that made me me.

 

I don't know what version of me you're seeing now. I don't know what I've said or done. But I need you to know that before any of it—before the darkness swallowed me whole—I loved you. I chose you. And I never stopped choosing you, even when it hurt. Especially when it hurt.

 

You were never supposed to see me like this. No one was.

 

After I cast the curse on Solomon, something inside me fractured. At first, I thought it was just guilt. Regret. But it was something more—something darker. A voice started following me. Whispering. Mocking. It knew things it shouldn't. It felt like Solomon, but worse. Colder. And it never stopped. Not even when I slept. Not that I could sleep much.

 

It made me angry. Paranoid. Violent. I stopped trusting the only people I had left—you and Ominis. I thought you were going to turn me in. I thought everyone was against me. There were moments I didn't recognise my own thoughts... moments where I wanted to hurt you. Where I almost did.

 

And that scared me more than anything.

 

When I finally broke down, Ominis was the one who saw it. He brought me to Gaunt Manor. To him.

 

You've probably heard whispers about Ominis's father. They're all true. And worse. But he offered me a solution—said he could Obliviate the memory of Solomon's death, replace it with something gentler. Something I could live with. That I might come back from this.

 

But this kind of magic—it never takes just what you ask it to. I knew that. I know that.

 

So I'm writing this now, before the ritual. Before everything gets taken. Because if you're reading this, it means I've lost you too.

 

I don't know what I'll be like after. I don't know if I'll even look at you the same. But please understand—it wasn't because I stopped caring. It was because I cared too much. I was trying to protect you from the version of me that wasn't mine anymore.

 

If I forget you completely... please don't let that be the end of our story.

 

And if I remember you even a little—if something flickers, even for a second—then I hope you're still there, somewhere in the dark, waiting to bring me back.

 

Always yours,

Sebastian

 

I didn't realise I'd stopped breathing until the last line.

 

Always yours. Sebastian.

 

The words pierced through me like a blade, clean and final. My fingers trembled as I held the parchment, the ink now smudged where my thumb had pressed too hard—where my tears had fallen without me noticing.

 

He'd forgotten me.

 

He'd chosen to forget me. To forget us.

 

But not out of cruelty.

 

To protect me.

 

To protect himself. 

 

I sank slowly to the floor of the Room of Requirement, the flickering torches casting long shadows across the walls. I folded the letter into my lap, my body hollow, the weight of the truth making it hard to sit upright. Three years of wondering. Three years of silence. And all this time... it was never abandonment. It was sacrifice.

 

And now? Now he was falling for me all over again—and he didn't even know why. The ache in my chest was unbearable. I clutched the letter tighter, wishing it could pull me back in time. To fifth year. To when he still remembered what we were. To when loving him didn't feel like a death sentence.

 

Because I loved him still. Every piece of me screamed it. Every second I had to pretend with Hector, every time I flinched under his possessive stare, every time Sebastian passed me in the corridor and didn't know the real reason I was doing this—it was killing me slowly. And the cruelest part? Sebastian was starting to feel it again. Whatever the Obliviation had taken, it hadn't erased everything. He was drawn to me. Obsessed. Like something deep in his soul remembered, even if his mind didn't.

 

I can't believe I'd let myself believe it was okay to fall again. To touch him. To kiss him. To be his, even if just in stolen moments.

 

And now Hector made sure that ended.

 

Sebastian thinks I used him. Lied. He hates me now—and I let him. Because the alternative? Watching him be expelled. Watching him rot in Azkaban for crimes we committed together? That wasn't something I could bear. I broke him to protect him. Just like he did for me.

 

A sob caught in my throat. I pressed my knuckles to my mouth, trying to hold it in. I couldn't even cry freely anymore, not when someone like Hector was always watching. Waiting. One wrong move and everything crumbled.

 

But now I had the truth. Sebastian's truth. And I couldn't un-know it.

 

Even if I had to pretend to be interested in someone else. Even if I had to let Sebastian hate me. I knew what we had. What we still have. And now I knew that, deep down, some part of him still did too.

 

That meant something.

 

It had to.

 

————————————————

 

I let the letter fall to my lap and I sat there, trembling.

 

Everything hurt.

 

My wrists still ached from Hector's grip, phantom bruises pressing against my skin where he held me too tightly. My lips burned—not with affection, but with revulsion. I could still taste the firewhiskey. Still feel the weight of his mouth on mine, not a kiss but a claim.

 

And now this.

 

Sebastian's voice, written with such clarity—such love—it echoed through my mind like a ghost I'd been trying to bury. He had been falling apart, and I hadn't even seen it. He thought I might be the one to send him to Azkaban. Me. And still, through it all, he'd loved me enough to let me go. To wipe me from his memory, to protect me from the darkness clawing through his soul.

 

I curled my fingers around the edge of the parchment, pressing it to my chest, needing something—anything—to anchor me to the truth in his words.

 

He didn't leave me.

 

He forgot me.

 

And now I was the one pretending to forget. To ignore the way he looked at me. To act like Hector meant anything when all he was doing was stealing pieces of me with every possessive glance, every public display meant to make Sebastian burn.

 

I could still feel Sebastian's eyes on me in the pub, could still see the way his jaw tightened, the fury barely contained behind his expression. He'd seen Hector kiss me. Seen me let it happen.

 

He didn't know the truth. He didn't know any of it.

 

I pressed my forehead to my knees, trying to steady my breathing. The letter crinkled under my fingertips, worn parchment growing damp against my palms. I felt like I was crumbling—like everything I'd been holding together was finally snapping apart.

 

I loved you. I chose you. And I never stopped choosing you

 

Sebastian had written that with just faith. Faith in a feeling so strong that even dark magic couldn't destroy it completely. And I? I had shattered his heart without explanation. I'd let him believe I didn't care. That I'd moved on. That I chose Hector. But how could I tell him the truth? That I had no choice? That Hector would burn our whole world to the ground if I didn't play along?

 

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to sit up straighter. The walls of the Room of Requirement were silent around me, the magic dimming to match the heaviness in my chest. I wiped at my eyes and stared down at the letter again, tracing Sebastian's name with shaking fingers. I couldn't go on like this. I couldn't keep pretending. But I also couldn't lose him.

 

Not again.

 

————————————————

 

The scent of roasted pumpkin, cinnamon, and baked bread hung in the air as I stepped into the Great Hall, my fingers curled tightly around the strap of my satchel. It was a chilly morning, the kind where frost still clung to the windows and everyone seemed to huddle closer to the warmth of their house tables. Students were scattered throughout, chattering over porridge and steaming cups of tea, but I didn't really take any of it in.

 

I was tired. Tired in the way that made your bones ache. I hadn't slept much the past few nights. The letter from Sebastian still weighed heavy in my pocket, folded so many times it was beginning to tear at the edges. I'd reread it nearly a dozen times since Poppy had handed it to me, trying to make sense of the fragments, the longing, the pain tucked between each line. Trying to hold onto something that was already slipping away.

 

I moved toward the Slytherin table, the only available spot at the far end, away from the bulk of the morning crowd. Hector wasn't here yet, thankfully. I could finally breathe for a minute. I tucked into some toast, trying not to think about the way my stomach clenched every time I let my mind wander.

 

Then I heard it—laughter. That kind of loud, performative laugh that demanded attention. My head turned instinctively toward the source.

 

There, at the Ravenclaw table, sat Sebastian.

 

And he wasn't alone.

 

Samantha Dale had her hand on his arm, leaning in close as if whispering something scandalous. His head tipped back in laughter, a real one this time, rich and open and relaxed. She was practically draped over him, her other hand running lightly along his shoulder. He didn't stop her. He didn't even seem to notice the way people were beginning to look.

 

My breath hitched.

 

He was grinning. Genuinely. His eyes sparkled with amusement, the kind I hadn't seen in what felt like weeks. There wasn't a single trace of the anguish I'd seen on his face the last time we spoke. And even worse—he looked like he was enjoying her.

 

I told myself it didn't mean anything.

 

I told myself I didn't care.

 

But my heart was breaking all over again.

 

Sebastian reached for a piece of toast, and Samantha intercepted, feeding it to him like it was some kind of inside joke. He took the bite from her fingers, and I blinked hard, forcing my eyes to the table, away from the sight of it. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks, humiliation prickling down my neck. I'd barely touched my own food.

 

Why was he doing this?

 

He had to know I could see. The Hall wasn't that big, and from where I was sitting, I had a clear view of everything. Was he trying to hurt me? Was this revenge for the way I'd ended things? Or worse... had he already moved on?

 

The thought made me feel nauseous.

 

A hush seemed to ripple through the Slytherin end of the room, and I realised a few others had noticed too. Nerida Robert's gave me a quick glance, then whispered something behind her hand to Grace Pinch-Smedley, who didn't even bother to look away when I caught her staring.

 

I couldn't do this.

 

I stood up abruptly, my chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. A few heads turned. I didn't care. I gathered my things, holding them tightly against my chest, and made for the doors as quickly as I could without outright running.

 

As I passed their table, I didn't look at Sebastian. I couldn't.

 

But I felt his gaze, just for a moment—like a sudden heat along my spine.

 

It wasn't confused or angry.

 

It was... indifferent.

 

And somehow, that hurt the most.

 

————————————————

 

The library had always been a place of solace for me. Something about the high ceilings, the quiet rustle of turning pages, and the scent of parchment helped me forget, if only for a little while. A few day's later I came here in hopes of getting away from the stares, the whispers, and the ache in my chest that hadn't dulled since that morning in the Great Hall. I sat at one of the tables near the windows, pretending to focus on the essay in front of me, but the words were a blur. My ink had dried on the tip of my quill. I hadn't written anything in ten minutes.

 

I could feel him before I saw him.

 

The low murmur of Samantha's voice drifted between the rows of books, followed by Sebastian's unmistakable laugh. I didn't even have to look up—I knew that sound. It used to be mine. It used to light up my world.

 

Now it made my chest tighten.

 

I let my eyes flicker upward, heart sinking instantly.

 

There he was. Slouched lazily in a chair just a few tables across, legs stretched out like he owned the place. Samantha leaned close, way too close, her fingers trailing up his arm as she whispered something in his ear. His head tilted toward her, smirking, and then—he laughed again.

 

I froze.

 

I hated that laugh now.

 

Hector had chosen that moment to return, sliding into the seat across from me with a smug little smirk on his face, two books in his arms—neither of which he'd opened once since we arrived. He followed my gaze before I could mask it.

 

His smirk grew.

 

"Looks like Sallow's moved on," he said quietly, with mock sympathy. "Can't say I blame him, though. Samantha's not exactly difficult to look at."

 

I clenched my jaw and turned back to my parchment.

 

"Hector, don't," I muttered.

 

"What?" he shrugged, all feigned innocence. "You've got me now, remember?"

 

His hand reached across the table, fingers brushing mine. I recoiled subtly, hoping no one noticed.

 

But someone did.

 

Sebastian's eyes snapped toward us—toward me. Just for a second. His smile didn't drop, not completely, but something flickered. Recognition? Irritation? I couldn't tell anymore. He looked away just as fast, turning back to Samantha as if nothing had happened. She was laughing too loud now, like she wanted to make sure I heard her.

 

I did.

 

I heard everything.

 

"I need a book," I said quickly, pushing back my chair before Hector could trap me in another unwanted conversation. He didn't protest—he just leaned back with a smirk, watching me walk away. I drifted into the rows of shelves, far enough to hide for a moment. I pressed my back to the cool stone wall, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from falling apart. My chest felt tight. I hated that this still hurt so much. I hated that he could still get to me like this. 

 

————————————————

 

I had barely taken my seat when they walked in.

 

Samantha Dale's hand was looped confidently through Sebastian's arm, her laugh just loud enough to carry. His eyes scanned the room—maybe out of habit—but they barely brushed mine before he turned away.

 

It stung. More than it should have. More than I'd let anyone see.

 

I bent my head, pretending to adjust my wand holster as they took seats at the front. He didn't usually sit there. He always sat near the back—by the windows, beside Ominis, or beside... me.

 

But things were different now.

 

He was different now.

 

"You're staring," came a voice to my right. Hector. He was already beside me, flipping through his textbook like none of this mattered to him—but I knew better. He loved this. Every second of it.

 

"I wasn't," I muttered, though I didn't sound convincing.

 

"Don't worry," he added, voice dropping low. "You'll have plenty of time to pine later."

 

I shot him a look, but Professor Ronen had begun class.

 

"Today," the professor announced with his usual flourish, "we'll be practicing non-verbal summoning charms—a step up from Accio, if you will. A true test of focus and connection to intent."

 

I hardly heard him. My eyes had drifted again.

 

Sebastian leaned close to Samantha, his head bowed to whisper something in her ear. She laughed, all coy smiles and light touches. Her hand lingered on his shoulder longer than necessary. It wasn't just flirtation. It was performance.

 

For me.

 

I knew it. I could feel it.

 

He was doing this because of how I ended things.

 

Because I pulled away without warning. Because I didn't give him a reason. Because I'd left him reeling—and then shown up with Hector like it had meant nothing.

 

I clutched my wand tighter, chest aching.

 

He was punishing me. And it was working.

 

"Wand out, love," Hector whispered, too close to my ear. "Or shall I do the spell for both of us?"

 

I pulled away from him, lips pressed in a thin line, and faced forward.

 

We practiced in silence. My mind wasn't on the spell. I couldn't focus—not when Sebastian kept laughing with Samantha like she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Like I hadn't existed.

 

Not when he kissed her cheek halfway through the lesson, unprompted.

 

My stomach flipped. I missed my mark entirely. The quill I was trying to summon didn't so much as twitch.

 

"Having trouble?" Hector drawled.

 

"I'm fine," I lied.

 

Professor Ronen passed by Sebastian and Samantha's desk just as she leaned into him again, nudging him playfully. Sebastian smirked and slung an arm around the back of her chair, relaxed and unbothered.

 

My vision blurred for a second, and I blinked hard to keep tears at bay.

 

How could he move on so quickly? Unless...

 

Unless it hadn't meant anything to him at all.

 

Unless I hadn't.

 

My fingers trembled as I pointed my wand again, trying to ignore the burning in my throat, the pounding in my head.

 

"I told you," Hector murmured, so quietly only I could hear, "he never cared as much as you did."

 

I wanted to scream.

 

But instead, I sat there, in a room full of people who had no idea that my heart was breaking in real time.

 

Sebastian didn't look at me once.

 

And that hurt most of all.

 

————————————————

 

It was now Friday afternoon, and I hadn't meant to linger. Professor Garlick had dismissed the class nearly ten minutes ago, but I was dragging my feet packing up my gloves and pruning shears, hoping to avoid the usual crowd that filtered through the courtyard after Herbology.

 

Most of all, I didn't want to see him.

 

Too late.

 

I stepped outside and walked straight into a wall of warmth and lilac perfume—Samantha Dale. Her laugh, high and fluttery, drifted past my ear as she circled her arms around Sebastian's neck and pulled him toward her like no one else existed in the world.

 

They were tucked just behind the archway near Greenhouse Three, partially shielded by flowering vines and the curve of the brick wall. They hadn't seen me. Yet.

 

I froze—one foot forward, breath caught in my chest.

 

Sebastian's hand was on her waist, the other curled at the back of her neck. Too familiar. Too practiced. Like he'd done it a hundred times. Like he wanted me to see.

 

I should've left. I meant to. But I couldn't move.

 

I watched—horrified and heartbroken—as Samantha leaned in closer, their foreheads nearly touching. Her fingers played with the collar of his shirt, teasing it down slightly.

 

"You've been so attentive lately," she purred. "It's like you're finally seeing what's been in front of you all along."

 

Sebastian didn't respond right away. For one dizzying second, his eyes flicked past her—and landed on me.

 

Our gazes collided.

 

And everything in me stopped.

 

His mouth parted slightly. His grip on Samantha loosened, just a fraction. Something flickered in his eyes—confusion? Realisation? No. It vanished as quickly as it came, smothered by that same smug confidence he'd worn all week.

 

"Maybe I am," he said smoothly, gaze not leaving mine.

 

My stomach turned.

 

Samantha followed his line of sight and spun around to face me, her arm still looped possessively through his. 

 

"Oh—Alora," she said, feigning surprise. "Didn't see you there."

 

Liar.

 

I straightened my shoulders, trying to appear unaffected. 

 

"Neither did I," I said coolly, brushing past them. But I couldn't help it—I had to glance at him again.

 

Sebastian's jaw tightened. His lips were slightly parted, but he said nothing.

 

Just watched me.

 

The air was heavy—thick with the scent of damp earth and whatever cologne he wore that still made my pulse stutter. I hated that. I hated that he still affected me even now.

 

"Come on, Seb," Samantha cooed, pulling him toward the path leading to the castle. "We'll miss dinner."

 

Seb.

 

He used to hate that nickname.

 

He let her drag him away, but even as they walked, his head turned back.

 

So did mine.

 

For one breathless moment, we looked at each other again—this quiet, aching thread between us tightening until it nearly snapped.

 

And then he was gone.

 

————————————————

 

The crisp breeze of the Scottish Highlands tugged at the hem of my robes as I stepped into the courtyard, crossing it on my way to the DADA tower. I hadn't meant to take this path—I'd been avoiding it all week—but Professor Sharp had held me back after class, and this was the fastest way.

 

I should've turned back the moment I spotted them.

 

There, beneath the stone archway, bathed in sunlight like some cruel scene from a fairy tale, sat Sebastian and Samantha Dale. His arm was draped lazily over the back of the bench while she leaned into him, giggling like she hadn't a care in the world. Her fingers traced something on his chest—letters, maybe. His name.

 

He was smiling.

 

Not the forced, hollow grin I'd caught glimpses of the past few days, but something softer. Warmer. The kind of smile he used to reserve for me—on sleepless nights in the Undercroft, after a duel, or when he'd sneak glances at me during Charms.

 

I froze mid-step. My hand clutched the strap of my bag so tightly I thought the leather might split. I should've looked away, but I couldn't. My gaze was anchored to them like a curse, like something in me was waiting for him to notice—waiting for some flicker of guilt or hesitation.

 

There wasn't one.

 

Samantha tilted her face up toward his, and without a second's pause, Sebastian leaned down and kissed her. Openly. Shamelessly. In broad daylight where anyone could see.

 

Including me.

 

I staggered a step back, the movement drawing attention from a few students nearby. One of them whispered something to their friend, and I caught my name. My ears burned. My face went hot. I swallowed hard, forcing the lump in my throat back down where it belonged.

 

They didn't even see me. Or maybe they did and just didn't care.

 

I turned sharply, the ache in my chest blooming with every step as I walked away—too fast, too stiff. I felt like I might splinter from the inside out.

 

How could he?

 

How could he kiss her like that after everything we—

 

No. No, I didn't get to ask that question. Not anymore.

 

I was the one who'd ended things. The one who had to. For him. For both of us.

 

And now he was... moving on. Throwing himself into someone else's arms like we'd meant nothing.

 

And maybe we had. Maybe I was the fool clinging to the memory of something that only ever mattered to me.

 

————————————————

 

Later that evening The Black Lake looked different. The light was low, the clouds heavy. The water, usually glimmering with golden reflections by this hour, now sat dark and still — like a mirror too tired to reflect anything. I sat cross-legged on the cool grass, arms wrapped around my knees, my gaze locked on the distant line where the lake met the trees.

 

I hadn't meant to cry. I told myself I wouldn't. But the tears kept coming, slow and silent, falling into my lap like raindrops I couldn't stop.

 

All week I'd watched Sebastian parade around with Samantha Dale — his hands on her waist, his lips pressed to her cheek, his laugh far too loud when she giggled in that infuriating, airy way. I told myself he was doing it to get back at me — that he was hurt and lashing out. That I deserved it.

 

Because I had broken his heart.

 

But I'd done it to protect him. From Hector. From Azkaban. From everything that could unravel if the truth ever got out. And now, every time Sebastian smiled at her — at her — it chipped another piece off of whatever I had left inside.

 

I dug my fingers into the grass. I needed the sting of it, something sharp and real to ground me.

 

"Didn't think I'd find you out here."

 

The voice pulled me out of my spiral. I turned to see Imelda standing a few feet away, her arms crossed over her chest, wind tugging at the ends of her braid.

 

"I come here sometimes," I said hoarsely, quickly wiping my cheeks.

 

She walked over slowly and sat down beside me without asking. It was quiet between us for a while. Then she said

 

"Gareth told me the date was your idea."

 

I blinked. 

 

“What?"

"The moonlit broom ride. The snacks. The whole romantic setup," she said, glancing sideways at me. "He said you helped him plan it. Even when we weren't speaking."

 

I shrugged, eyes back on the water. 

 

"He asked for help. I figured he meant well."

 

Imelda was quiet again. Then, softer than I expected

 

"Thank you."

 

That did it. My throat tightened, the tears I thought I'd stopped threatening to return. I tried to blink them away.

 

"I miss you," I whispered.

 

She sighed. 

 

“I was so angry, you know? About the party. About Gareth's bed situation. I felt like... like you didn't care."

"I did care," I said quickly. "I just— I was overwhelmed. Everything with Sebastian was falling apart and you were furious, and I didn't know how to fix it."

"Is that why you're suddenly with Hector now?" she asked sharply. "Because Sebastian pissed you off?"

 

I flinched. My fingers curled into fists in the grass.

 

"It's... not like that."

 

"Then what is it?" she demanded. "Because one minute you're tangled up with Sebastian, then the next you're with Hector bloody Fawley, who treats you like something he owns. And now Sebastian's—" She stopped herself, jaw tightening. "You're not yourself, Alora. I see it."

 

I looked down, shame flooding me. 

 

“I can't explain."

 

She was silent, but I could feel her eyes on me. After a moment, she said more quietly, "Then tell me this — do you love him?"

 

I didn't have to ask who she meant.

 

"I never stopped," I whispered.

 

My voice broke on the last word. Imelda leaned back, exhaling hard. 

 

“Then why are you letting him go?"

"Because I have to," I choked out. "Because if I don't, he could get hurt. Or worse."

 

Her brow furrowed. 

 

“Hurt by who?"

 

I said nothing. I couldn't. The words clung to the back of my throat, choking me. Imelda stared at me for a moment longer, but then she reached over and gently took my hand in hers.

 

"You don't have to say it," she said, voice gentler now. "But I'm here. Whenever you can. I'm here."

 

I nodded, unable to speak, and leaned my head onto her shoulder. And for the first time in days, I let myself cry properly.

Chapter 34: The sound of silence

Notes:

Ominis’s POV

The air in the castle had that damp chill again—the kind that clung to the stones and whispered through the halls like ghosts. I was leaning against the corridor wall, half-listening to the muffled scrape of quills and the occasional burst of laughter from behind the Charms classroom door.

 

Then I heard him.

 

His steps were quick, louder than usual. Sebastian always moved like he was being followed by a secret—light on his feet but full of intention. Today though, it was something else entirely. Buoyancy. A sort of careless exuberance I hadn't heard from him since third year, back when we singed our eyebrows off after practicing the blasting curse in the Undercroft

 

"There you are!" he called, rounding the corner fast enough that his shoulder nearly clipped the wall.

 

I straightened. 

 

"You sound breathless."

"Because I am," he said, almost giddy. "You won't believe what Samantha did today."

 

I tilted my head. 

 

"Try me."

"She left me a note. In Ancient Runes. Full translation. Said she knew I'd appreciate the effort. Bloody flawless, too—not a single misinterpretation."

"Impressive," I murmured, though my tone was dry.

"She even enchanted it so the characters shimmered in gold ink when I read them aloud."

 

I arched a brow. 

 

"Didn't you stop seeing Samantha months ago?"

"We... parted ways, yeah. Casually. It wasn't anything serious then." He waved it off quickly, but his voice carried a flicker of uncertainty. "But this is different now. She's different."

 

I didn't reply immediately. I could feel the eagerness radiating off him like heat from a fire—too warm, too bright. 

 

"Different how?"

"She made me a lemon tart last night."

 

I blinked. 

 

"I thought you hated lemon tart."

"That's the thing—I told her I did, but she said she had a feeling I'd like hers. And I did. It was perfect. The crust had this flaky texture—"

"You're describing pastry now?"

"I'm describing her. She pays attention. To everything. She remembered I always tap my foot when I'm thinking. She bought me new ink because she said she didn't like the way the last one smudged when I wrote too fast."

 

I pushed off the wall slowly. 

 

"Sounds like she's quite observant."

"She's more than that." He lowered his voice like he was sharing a secret. "She smells like ink and cherries. Not perfume, just... her. And she hums when she walks—little songs under her breath, like she doesn't even know she's doing it. And I keep hearing it in my head. Even now."

 

The corners of my lips twitched down slightly. 

 

"You never talked about her like this before."

"I didn't see her before," he said, almost breathless. "Not really. I was caught up in... other things."

"Like Alora," I said carefully.

 

He went quiet.

 

I heard the tension in his jaw more than saw it—his teeth clicked softly, like he'd just clenched them together.

 

"She's with Hector now."

"And that bothers you."

"No," he said quickly—too quickly. "It doesn't matter. She made her choice."

"And you made yours?" I asked, brow raised.

 

There was a pause, followed by a sharp exhale. 

 

"Samantha's good for me. That's all. She makes me feel—lighter. Like I can finally breathe again. She just... gets me."

"But you didn't feel that way before."

"I didn't let myself," he replied, tone shifting. "I was too focused on Alora, thinking she was the only right choice. But Samantha's been there. She always was. Even when I didn't notice."

"You mean before you ghosted her?" I offered, keeping my voice neutral.

 

"I didn't ghost her," he snapped, then caught himself. "Alright, maybe I did. But that was before I realised how much she mattered."

"You cut things off with her when you started getting close to Alora," I reminded him.

 

"Because it was casual, Ominis. Samantha knew that. I was clear with her from the start."

"And now?" I asked quietly.

"Now..." He let out a strange, dreamy sort of sigh. "Now I'm completely hooked. Can't stop thinking about her. Everything she does—it's like she was made for me."

 

I felt the weight of that sentence settle between us. He believed it. Every word. And yet something inside me prickled, uneasy.

 

He sounded... obsessed. Not in love. Not infatuated. Obsessed. The kind of obsession that didn't bloom naturally—but was forced.

 

"Sebastian," I said carefully, "do you feel like yourself lately?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, are you thinking clearly? Sleeping properly? Eating?"

 

He laughed, but it was too sharp to be genuine. 

 

"Bloody hell, Ominis, you sound like a worried mother."

"I am worried," I admitted. "You've changed. Practically overnight."

"Samantha's good for me," he said again, but it was more forceful this time. Like he needed me to believe it. "She makes me feel—happy."

"And that's why you're snapping at me?"

 

He hesitated. 

 

"Sorry. I didn't mean to. It's just... everyone keeps bringing up Alora."

"No one's brought her up but me," I said. "And I only did so because last week you said how much you couldn't stand to see her with Hector!"

 

He didn't respond. I took a step closer, lowering my voice. 

 

"This obsession with Samantha... it isn't you, Sebastian. Something feels off."

"Maybe I've finally stopped chasing the wrong person," he muttered. "Maybe Samantha was what I needed all along."

 

Or maybe, I thought grimly, you've been enchanted.

 

I didn't say it out loud, not yet. But the possibility gripped me with icy certainty. Something unnatural was at play here. I'd known Sebastian Sallow for years. Through loss, fury, guilt, and hope. But I'd never heard him like this.

 

And if I was right... someone had tampered with him. Someone had deliberately pushed him into Samantha's arms.

 

And I had a sickening feeling I knew who.

 

———————————————

 

It wasn't just what Sebastian had said, it was how he said it. That dreamy lilt in his voice, the exaggerated reverence, the complete absence of logic. I'd known him long enough to recognise when he fancied someone, and this... wasn't that. It was obsession. Artificial. And if there's one thing I know well, it's darkness that pretends to be sweet.

 

The moment he left, I turned back into the corridor and took a slow breath. I may not have my eyes, but I still see things. And right now, I was seeing a puzzle in motion. Samantha Dale had lured him back in, and I needed to know how. I needed to know why. And more importantly, if she'd done something to him. I quickly made my way back to the common room, taking a seat in one of the armchairs by the fireplace.

 

"Quill," I murmured.

 

The charmed quill floated from my bag, hovering by the aged parchment on the desk. I didn't need to see the ink form. I could feel the magic working through me as I spoke.

 

"List of irregular behaviours: Sebastian Sallow, Seventh Year." The quill scratched away as I spoke. "One: Sudden, intense fixation on Samantha Dale. Uncharacteristic language. Excessive compliments. Hyper-affectionate. Immediate shift from apathy to obsession."

 

I paused.

 

"Two: Past history, Samantha was formerly a casual partner. Relationship ended abruptly when interest in Alora developed. Has not shown romantic attention to Samantha since."

 

The quill hesitated, waiting for more. I frowned, thoughts racing.

 

"Three: Alora abruptly ends connection with Sebastian. Timeline coincides with new 'relationship' with Hector Fawley."

 

That part still didn't sit right with me. Hector was many things, intelligent, arrogant, insufferable—but Alora had never looked at him with anything but disdain. Her posture stiffened when he was near. Her voice lost all warmth. And Sebastian... he might not remember what they had, but even now, his body responded to her presence like a string being plucked.

 

Something was off. More than off. Manipulated.

 

I leaned back in the chair, exhaling slowly. I needed to talk to Samantha next, but she'd be cautious around me. Everyone was. My reputation made sure of that. I knew too much. And they all knew I knew.

 

Gossip Gaunt, they called me.

 

I preferred "truth collector."

 

I didn't need to see your eyes to know when you were lying. I could hear it in the way your throat tensed, the way your breathing shifted. I had a library's worth of tells memorised. Right now I needed students. Whispers. The truth, hidden in plain sight, between the careless slips of tongues and hushed dormitory gossip. If there was one thing I was good at, it was listening.

 

Samantha Dale wasn't exactly subtle. That sugary, forced giggle of hers carried through corridors like nails on glass, and her sudden obsession with sweet scents hadn't gone unnoticed. Nor had the way she clung to Sebastian like a leech scented with rosewater.

 

I was now reclining by the fire like I had no care in the world. My enchanted quill hovered nearby, transcribing without a single stroke of my hand. All I had to do was sit and listen. I could hear something from the girls' corner, two fourth-years murmured in giggles.

 

"She totally used something, I swear."

"Oh, definitely. He was never that into her before, did you see the way he looked at her in Herbology? Practically drooling."

"Amortentia?"

 

A pause. Then: 

 

"Wouldn't be surprised. I heard she's been sneaking off to the Potions classroom late at night. And she always smells like roses now."

 

There it was. Subtle. Careless. Perfect.

 

I sent my quill to follow them, enchanted to record as much as it could while I stood and took a slow walk. Time to confirm it. I waited until after dinner, lingering near the Potions classroom. The corridor was still humid from the afternoon's brewings. The scent of asphodel and fluxweed clung to the stone like secrets waiting to be stirred.

 

"Did you hear Samantha's brewing after hours again?" a girl whispered near the corner. I stilled.

 

"Yeah," the boy beside her replied. "Professor Sharp gave her permission apparently. Working on something for extra credit, she said."

 

Extra credit. At this time of year? Convenient.

 

I tilted my head, allowing their voices to fade before moving toward the door. Locked, of course. But you don't grow up in the Gaunt household without learning a few things. I tapped my wand against the handle.

 

"Alohomora."

 

The lock gave way with a soft click. I slipped inside.

 

The room was warm, filled with the earthy undertones of steeped herbs and something sharper—sweeter. A telltale sugary scent. Love potion. Subtle, but not subtle enough.

 

I followed the smell to one of the side tables. A cauldron still warm to the touch. Carefully, I traced the ingredients left behind: the peel of a firefruit, powdered rose petals, a sprig of peppermint to mask the aftertaste.

 

It was a love potion. No doubt about it.

 

And judging by the setup, Samantha had brewed it recently. My hand rested briefly on the empty vial rack beside it. Six slots. All empty.

 

She'd been dosing him regularly.

 

A faint noise behind me made me duck back behind a column. Footsteps. Light. Feminine.

 

Samantha.

 

I held my breath as she entered, humming to herself. She didn't even bother locking the door behind her this time—too confident, too certain no one would ever suspect.

 

"I'll add a bit more this time," she muttered, adjusting her wand over the cauldron. "He was distant today... maybe he's fighting it."

 

That was all I needed.

 

I slipped from the shadows and out the door as she stirred. I didn't need to confront her, not yet. I had what I needed: proof. But this wasn't just about Sebastian anymore. This was about Alora too. She was hurting, I knew it. And now I knew why.

 

Hector was involved I could feel it. The way he hovered near her, always watching, always too quiet when Sebastian and Samantha were around. He was too clever to get his hands dirty, but if I had to wager galleons, I'd say he was the one who gave Samantha the idea or the access.

 

And I was going to find out how. Something was rotten beneath it all and I was going to drag it into the light because Alora deserved the truth. And Sebastian, for all his reckless choices, deserved to know what had been done to him.

 

I just had to be careful. If Hector caught wind of my digging... things could turn ugly.

 

But I'm a Gaunt.

 

Ugly's where I thrive.

 

———————————————

 

I left it a few days before confronting Samantha. I paused at the edge of the greenhouse path, listening. Boots clicked gently against the stone, and a faint hum floated through the air. She was alone. Perfect.

 

"Hello, Samantha," I said, tone polite, but even.

 

She jumped. "Oh—Ominis. Hello."

 

"You sound surprised to hear from me."

"Well, no it's just... I didn't think we were close."

"We're not," I replied, calmly. "But we do have a mutual friend. Or two."

 

A pause. She fidgeted. Her footsteps shifted slightly, the rustle of her skirt a dead giveaway.

 

I tilted my head. 

 

"You and Sebastian seem quite... passionate lately."

 

Her breath hitched.

 

"Oh—yes. We're... happy."

 

"Mm. You've rekindled something that had been dormant for quite some time, haven't you?"

"Well—yes, but—things change."

"They certainly do."

 

I leaned in just a touch, not enough to intimidate, but enough that she knew I wasn't fooled.

 

"You know what's fascinating, Samantha?" I murmured. "Love potions are illegal when used without consent. Especially when administered at school. Especially when it affects behavior this dramatically."

 

She gasped—too quickly.

 

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't you?" I asked softly. "Because I do. I know how long love potions last. I know the symptoms. I know when someone's acting out of character. I also know which apothecaries in Hogsmeade still sell those potions ingredients under the counter."

 

Her silence was deafening.

 

"You're not the first person to try something like this. You just picked the wrong target."

 

"I didn't do anything," she said stiffly, but her voice shook. "Sebastian's with me because he wants to be."

 

"No," I replied, gently, "he's with you because he's under the impression he wants to be. And that illusion is going to break eventually. When it does... you'd best hope he doesn't remember what you've done."

 

She scoffed, trying to cover her discomfort. 

 

"You're jealous. Or maybe you're just bitter because you think you know everything."

 

"I don't need to see everything," I replied, my voice icy now, "when I can hear how often he says your name. When I can smell the Amortentia on his robes. The cloying sweetness. The crushed peppermint and clover root you tried to hide behind rose petals."

 

Silence.

 

"You brewed it in the Potions classroom," I went on. "You brewed it alone, and you've been dosing him for over a week. You used an untraceable delivery method — clever, I'll give you that. He probably thinks it's some lucky charm or a stupid sweet."

 

"You can't prove anything," she whispered, but the panic was there, plain as day.

 

I smiled grimly

 

"Don't need to. I already know. And I'm giving you one chance to stop. Pour the rest of it out. Tonight."

"And if I don't?"

 

I stepped closer. 

 

"Then I go to Sharp. Or Weasley. Or even Black, if I must. But make no mistake — this ends now."

 

Her voice cracked. 

 

"You wouldn't."

"I would," I said, tone absolute. "Because unlike you, I don't toy with people's minds just to get what I want."

 

I let the words hang in the air like a curse before turning to leave.

 

"This little stunt you've pulled wasn't very smart, was it? But then again, you're not very bright" I offered her a cold, mocking smile as I turned away 

"I'm so glad we had this talk, Samantha"

 

———————————————

 

The corridors were quiet at this hour, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows that whispered across the stone floor as I made my way toward the Slytherin common room. Most students were either asleep or tucked away studying, which made it easier for me to navigate without being bombarded by their thoughts or chatter. I wasn't exactly in the mood for small talk.

 

I had a purpose tonight.

 

After my conversation with Sebastian earlier, his suspiciously giddy obsession with Samantha Dale, the way he spoke of her as if bewitched - I knew something was off. And I trusted my instincts more than anyone else's. I needed to find Alora. I had to tell her what I suspected. No, what I knew.

 

My wand guided me with gentle pulses of magic, like a heartbeat in my palm. I could hear the familiar lapping of water through the pipes in the walls, the distant thrum of the lake above us. Everything was still until I turned the final corner toward the common room and stopped cold.

 

Voices. Low. Tense.

 

I knew that tone. The kind that laced every syllable with danger.

 

I stepped back into the shadows, careful not to let the tip of my shoe betray me. The alcove just ahead, one I'd passed by a thousand times was currently occupied. I heard the sound of fabric brushing stone, a sharp breath, and then a voice I'd recognise anywhere, no matter how smooth he tried to make it sound.

 

Hector.

 

"And here I thought you were clever," he said, his tone dripping with superiority. "But you're crumbling far too easily. Don't look at me like that, darling it's unbecoming."

 

I felt the blood rise in my throat. Darling.

 

Then Alora's voice tight, shaking. But not weak. Never weak. "Get your hands off me."

 

He chuckled, and I heard the sound of movement leather scraping stone, a shift in weight. 

 

"You should be thanking me. I've kept Sebastian safe. I've kept you safe. No one knows what you two did. The goblins, the Ashwinders, the Repository... Your little love story could have ended in Azkaban. But it didn't. Because of me."

"Don't act like you did that for us," she snapped.

 

A pause. Then his voice dropped lower, quieter more dangerous. 

 

"Keep up the charade, Alora. Smile when I touch you. Pretend you're mine. Or I'll open my mouth. One letter to the Headmaster, and poof your precious Sebastian is expelled. Then it's a straight line to Azkaban for the both of you. You know I'm not bluffing."

 

I clenched my fists. My knuckles ached with the force of it. My pulse was roaring in my ears.

 

"I hate you," Alora whispered.

"Good," Hector said smoothly. "That will make pretending all the more believable."

 

She let out a shaky breath. 

 

"You're disgusting."

"I'm realistic," he replied. "Unlike you, still clinging to the hope that you can fix him. You're not going to save him, you know. He doesn't like you anymore, and he doesn't care. He's moved on."

 

That did it.

 

I wanted to draw my wand, storm out from the shadows, and hex him so hard the entire Fawley estate would feel it. But I didn't. I stood there in the dark, trembling with rage, breathing through my nose to stay silent.

 

"Enjoy your night, sweetheart," Hector said smugly. Then I heard his footsteps—slow, arrogant, echoing down the corridor as he walked away.

 

I waited until I couldn't hear him anymore.

 

Alora remained still for several seconds. I didn't need my eyes to know she was trying not to cry. The silence between us felt heavy, sacred. I didn't dare intrude.

 

Instead I turned and walked back the way I came, each footstep measured, deliberate. I had enough now. Enough to act. Because I might not have sight, but I'd seen enough. And Hector Fawley? He was going to wish I'd stayed blind to all of it

 

He made one fatal mistake tonight. He let me hear him.

 

And Gossip Gaunt never forgets what he hears.

Chapter 35: Pretty when she’s angry

It was supposed to be just another dinner.

 

Cold, grey light filtered through the enchanted ceiling, mimicking the stormy November sky outside. The air inside the Great Hall, however, was far from subdued. Students buzzed with energy over assignments, Quidditch, and gossip louder than the howling wind that lashed the windows.

 

I was trying and failing to focus on my shepherd's pie.

 

"Attention!" 

 

Headmaster Black's voice sliced through the chatter, drawing a collective groan from several tables. 

 

"Eyes front. Wands down. Forks away—yes, I see you, Davies."

 

The murmuring faded into anticipation as he stood, tapping his goblet with a ringed finger. Beside him, Professor Weasley looked like she already regretted whatever announcement was coming.

 

"Given the... extraordinary academic pressure our dear seventh years are under," he said, in a tone that suggested he had never studied a day in his life, "the faculty has decided most generously, if I may say to bestow upon you all a gift."

 

"Oh, please," muttered Imelda beside me, stabbing her carrots like they'd personally offended her. "It'll be a study session. Or a three-hour lecture on goblin tax law."

 

I snorted. But Headmaster Black simply raised his wand. With a dramatic flourish, a banner unfurled above the High Table:

 

THE YULE BALL

Saturday, 21st of November

Formal Attire Required

Seventh Years Only

 

Gasps. Laughter. Shrieks of excitement from the Ravenclaw table. Someone clapped in Hufflepuff before quickly pretending they hadn't.  

I stared up at the floating letters, the words slow to register. The Yule Ball. As if everything wasn't already unbearable.

 

A flicker of dread curled low in my stomach.

 

"Oh, brilliant," Imelda said, tossing her fork down. "Another excuse for half the school to pair off and pretend they aren't repressing everything."

 

"I think it sounds lovely," Poppy chimed in from across the table, her cheeks pink with excitement. "A proper break before term gets worse. And we all deserve something nice, don't we?"

 

I didn't answer. My gaze had already drifted across the hall.

 

Sebastian sat at the Slytherin table's far end, angled slightly toward Samantha Dale. They were laughing again close, too close, the tips of their elbows brushing on the bench. He said something that made her giggle and tilt her head, her raven hair brushing his shoulder.

 

Something about it looked staged. The smile. The posture. Too polished. Too... rehearsed.

 

Or maybe I just wanted it to be.

 

Maybe he really did like her now.

 

"I suppose you'll need something new to wear," came the smooth voice beside me. Hector Fawley smirking, as always. "Something striking. I don't intend to show up with anything less than the best."

 

My stomach twisted.

 

"You assume I'm going with you."

 

He smiled wider.

 

"I don't assume, Alora. I know."

 

He placed a possessive hand on the back of the bench. Not quite touching me,  he was careful with that in public but close enough for the message to land.

 

Claimed.

 

I felt it like a shackle, heavy and cold, no matter how pretty the setting. Across the table, Ominis shifted slightly. His blank expression gave nothing away, but I noticed the way his jaw tightened. His enchanted quill paused mid-note, hovering in mid-air, ink hanging like a held breath.

 

He heard everything. As always.

 

"Just think," Hector continued smoothly, "a night of music and dancing. I'll even let you pick the colour of your dress... within reason, of course."

 

"You're too kind," I muttered.

 

Poppy glanced between us with visible discomfort. Even Imelda raised a brow, half-curious, half-disgusted. Ominis said nothing.

 

The hall buzzed louder as everyone processed the news. Invitations would be issued tomorrow. Dress robes would be fussed over, hair enchanted, dates chosen or begged for. And I'd be paraded like a prize beside a boy who held my life and Sebastian's future in the palm of his well-manicured hand.

 

I caught Sebastian glancing toward me. Brief. Fleeting. His brow furrowed for a half-second before Samantha leaned in again and he looked away.

 

The banner above us swayed gently in the magical breeze.

 

I couldn't breathe.

 

——————————————

 

The Slytherin common room had finally quieted into a familiar lull, the fire snapping low in the hearth as green shadows danced across the walls. Students had spread themselves out in comfortable corners, parchment rustling, the occasional laugh drifting from a small group by the far wall. I sat curled at the edge of one of the leather sofas near the fireplace, an open book resting on my lap and a half-drunk mug of tea beside me.

 

I hadn't turned the page in half an hour.

 

Across the room, Sebastian sat in his usual spot. His back arched casually over the chair, legs outstretched, posture smug and effortless. Only this time, Samantha Dale was beside him. Practically on top of him, really. She balanced herself on the armrest, her shoulder pressed to his, whispering something with a giggle that made my skin crawl.

 

He grinned. The kind of grin I hadn't seen in months.

 

She shouldn't have even been in here. We weren't allowed in other house common room's unless they were hosting a party - but if anyone could sneak someone in, it would be him. Of course it would.

 

My jaw tensed, but I didn't look away. Couldn't.

 

The chain of my necklace shifted as I breathed, and I reached up to touch it, fingers brushing the familiar silver. The pendant was smooth, slightly warm. It always was. I held it tighter, watching the way he laughed again at something Samantha said. The way she leaned her head on his shoulder, like she belonged there.

 

Imelda dropped onto the sofa beside me with a grunt, pulling her legs up and tugging her cloak around her. 

 

"He's got a bloody nerve," she muttered, tossing a bag of sweets between us. "Is he just parading her around now, or what?"

 

I didn't answer.

 

She scoffed. 

 

"Honestly. Look at her. Sitting on the edge of our sofa like she runs the place. I swear, if I see her hanging tinsel in here for Christmas, I'm hexing someone."

 

I bit down a smile, barely. But it didn't reach my chest.

 

"Thought he hated clingy types," 

 

Imelda went on, grabbing a Bertie Bott's bean and popping it into her mouth. She grimaced. 

 

"Earwax. Perfect. Anyway, he used to roll his eyes when girls touched his arm. Now he's letting her braid his hair, apparently."

 

I didn't dare look again.

 

"She won't last," she added, more softly this time. "Not with him. She's not... real enough. Not like you."

 

I looked down at my tea. 

 

"Maybe that's the point."

 

Imelda shifted. 

 

"Don't say that."

 

I shrugged. 

 

"He's allowed to move on."

"He didn't just move on, Alora. He vaulted past sense and landed face-first into a bloody Ravenclaw. You think this is normal? Even for him?"

 

I glanced across the room.

 

The smile on his face. The easy way he let her lean in. The casual intimacy. It looked normal. It looked real. But the ache in my chest whispered otherwise.

 

"You could talk to him, you know," Imelda offered after a moment. "Clear the air. Maybe punch her. I'd support either option."

 

I shook my head and forced myself to stand, I needed to move, to breathe, to not sit here pretending it didn't hurt. The necklace shifted with me, the gem glinting faintly as it caught the firelight. There was a flicker within it—subtle, almost like a shimmer of smoke within the stone.

 

Like a heartbeat trapped in crystal.

 

Imelda stayed seated as I walked toward the wide window looking out into the lake, the glow of moonlight filtering through the black water and casting shadows against the stone floor. My reflection hovered just behind the glass hollow-eyed, tired, older than I remembered being.

 

The weight around my neck pulsed again. The magic inside it wasn't loud or obvious. But it was there. Like it was waiting. Across the room, another burst of laughter. Hers. His. I didn't turn around. I didn't have to. I pressed my palm to the cold glass and let myself close my eyes.

 

The necklace remembered him.

 

But I wasn't sure if I still did.

 

——————————————

 

The next day, the corridors were half-empty by the time Ominis and I left the Great Hall. Everyone else was still buzzing over the ball announcement talking dresses, dates, plans. I couldn't stand it. The noise. The expectation. The falseness of it all.

 

I didn't say much as we walked. I didn't need to. Ominis wasn't one for needless chatter. He kept pace beside me, his wand glowed faintly as we headed toward the library. I didn't even remember saying I wanted to go there, he just knew.

 

"I don't think I'm going," I said eventually, hugging my arms to my chest. "To the ball."

 

"You are," he said flatly.

 

I turned my head toward him, startled. 

 

"Excuse me?"

"You are," he repeated. "You're going. In something dramatic. With your hair up. And you'll smile like you don't want to hex everyone in the room."

 

I stopped walking.

 

"...What?"

 

Ominis paused too, turning just enough to face me. His expression was unreadable.

 

"You don't understand," I said, throat dry.

 

"Oh, I do." 

 

His voice dropped soft and measured. And for the first time in weeks, dangerous. 

 

"I understand more than anyone else in this godforsaken castle right now."

 

The silence between us cracked like thunder. There was something about his tone. Something tightly wound beneath the words. Knowing. My skin prickled.

 

"I don't—" I hesitated. "Is something going on?"

 

He tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something far away. 

 

"Let's just say... things aren't quite what they seem. But they will be. Soon."

 

I stared at him. 

 

"Ominis..."

"You deserve to be seen, Alora," 

 

He said, his voice dropping into something impossibly soft. 

 

"Even if he doesn't see you right now."

 

My breath caught for a second, I forgot how to speak. Forgot that we were standing in the middle of a corridor. Forgot I had a role to play. That I was supposed to keep everything buried.

 

He didn't explain. He didn't have to. Because deep down I knew.

 

This was about Sebastian.

 

I felt it like a curse threading through my ribs, and it wasn't just the way Ominis said it. It was the way his magic pulsed faintly around him always so quiet, so composed, but tonight? It was bristling under the surface. Protective. Watchful. Like something had snapped into place behind his calm.

 

And still, he said nothing else. He just walked into the library like he hadn't just opened a wound I'd spent weeks pretending wasn't still bleeding. I didn't follow him straight away, I stood frozen in the corridor. Ominis's words curling around my chest like smoke.

 

You deserve to be seen.

 

A laugh built at the back of my throat small, bitter. Not because he was wrong. But because it hurt to hear. Because there was a time I had been seen.

 

But now? Now I was a ghost in my own skin.

 

I reached up and touched the necklace at my throat. It pulsed faintly with warmth, like it still held pieces of us in it. Pieces only I remembered. That was when I heard footsteps again. Sharper this time. Slower. Intentional.

 

I didn't even need to look up.

 

"Hiding out here, are we?" 

 

Hector's voice slithered down the hall, low and amused. I said nothing, just braced.  He stopped in front of me, straightening the lapels of his immaculate robes like he was preparing for an audience. 

 

"Come on," he said. "We need to talk."

 

I didn't move. His smile didn't reach his eyes. 

 

"Now, Alora."

 

I swallowed hard, jaw tight, and followed him without a word down the stairs, past portraits who barely blinked, and into a quiet alcove near the dungeons. Somewhere private. Somewhere no one would overhear.

 

"About the ball," he began, folding his arms. "You'll be going with me. Obviously."

 

I stared at him. 

 

"Obviously."

 

He smirked. 

 

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"That tone." 

 

His voice lost its edge of amusement. 

 

"You agreed to this arrangement. I suggest you remember why."

 

My hands clenched in the folds of my robe.

 

"You'll wear green," he continued, like we were picking out curtains. "Emerald. It suits you. Hair up. Minimal jewelry. Except the necklace, I suppose you're oddly attached to it."

 

I said nothing.

 

"I expect you to smile. To look at me when I speak to you. To laugh, occasionally. Something charming. I won't have people asking questions."

 

My jaw ached from how hard I was clenching it. 

 

"And if I don't feel like it?"

 

He leaned in slightly. Too close.

 

"Then I start feeling like reminding everyone why you're mine in the first place," he whispered. "And why it would be very inconvenient if a certain someone were to be expelled before he even finishes his last year."

 

My vision blurred with fury. I couldn't hex him. Not yet. Not without risk. But I wanted to, fucking hell I wanted to.

 

"You're very quiet," he said, cocking his head like a hawk. "Everything alright?"

 

"I'm fine," I said tightly.

 

He smiled like he'd won something. 

 

"Good. I want this to go smoothly. For both our sakes."

 

Then he turned on his heel and left me standing there in the corridor, burning from the inside out. And as his footsteps faded, I pressed a hand to my necklace again—not because it comforted me, but because I needed something to hold onto before I snapped.

 

Because I was absolutely about to snap.

 

——————————————

 

By the time I made it back to the dorm, my head was pounding and my jaw ached from being clenched too long. I didn't even bother slamming the door behind me, but the way it shut was loud enough to turn three heads at once.

 

"There she is!"

 

 

Imelda crowed, perched cross-legged on Priscilla's bed like she owned it. 

 

"Our tragic little dark queen."

"Imelda," I muttered.

"She means you look like you haven't slept in a week," Violet said kindly, flipping her book shut. 

"She's trying to be supportive."

"I am being supportive," Imelda insisted.

"Just aggressively."

 

Priscilla peeked up from a pile of fabric samples, her curls pinned back with enchanted clips. 

 

"Sit down. We need to talk dresses."

 

I blinked.

 

"What—?"

"You're going to the Yule Ball," Imelda said flatly.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes" 

 

Violet and Priscilla chorused in unnervingly perfect harmony.

 

"I have a date," I muttered. "Hector's already—"

"We're aware," Violet said coolly.

 

Priscilla gave me a sympathetic glance. 

 

"We've been hearing things. Seeing things. And while we haven't all exactly... gotten along lately, that doesn't mean we haven't noticed."

 

Imelda nodded. 

 

"You look miserable. Like, levels of miserable usually reserved for crying in the Prefects' bathroom. So we're fixing it."

"I don't need fixing," I snapped, but my voice didn't have much fight.

"No," Imelda agreed, rising to her feet. "But you do need to stop letting that brunette parasite walk you around like you're some prop."

 

"I'm not letting him—"

"Yes, you are," she cut in. "Because you're trying to protect someone else. But guess what? You're still here. Still breathing. And that means you get to wear a damn good dress and steal the spotlight even if it's just for one night."

 

"I'm not doing it for him," I whispered.

"I know," she said gently. "But maybe... do it for you?"

 

I sank onto the edge of my bed, fingers curling around the familiar weight of the necklace under my shirt. I could feel it thrumming faintly with magic like a heartbeat I couldn't quite hear.

 

"Why do you even care?" I asked after a moment.

 

There was a pause.

 

Then Imelda said

 

"Because you were the only one who stood by me after I lost my mum. Even when I was insufferable."

"And because we're your friends," Violet added softly. "Even if we forgot how to be for a while."

 

Priscilla lifted her wand, levitating a trio of floating parchment designs toward me. 

 

"We've got ideas. Dangerous ones."

"You get to pick," Imelda said. "But whatever you choose, you're going to walk into that ball like you're the main character. Because you are."

 

I didn't answer. I just threw myself down onto my bed, face-first into the pillows. The mattress gave a soft bounce beneath me. I didn't cry. But holy Merlin, did I want to scream.

 

There was a pause. Then Violet's voice, gentle. 

 

"Alora?"

 

I groaned into the pillow.

 

"What did the bastard do now?" Imelda asked, hopping down and crossing to me.

 

 "Because if it's what I think it is, I'm going to need bail money."

 

I rolled onto my back, blinking at the green velvet canopy above.

 

 "He gave me a dress code."

 

There was a beat.

 

Then all three voices at once:

 

"Oh, hell no—"

 

"You're bloody joking—"

 

"Shut the fuck up—"

 

"He told me I'd be wearing green," I muttered. "Hair up. Minimal jewelry. And that I have to smile. And laugh. And look at him when he speaks."

 

Imelda's nostrils flared. "You're his date, not his bloody puppet."

 

"He made it sound like I was property," I said, quieter now. "Like I should be grateful he's letting me attend."

 

Violet tossed her brush aside and came to sit at the foot of the bed. 

 

"We're not letting you show up to the Yule Ball looking like a hostage."

 

Priscilla leaned her head against my shoulder.

 

"You don't have to do this alone, you know."

 

My throat tightened.

 

We'd all gone through our messy era fallouts, misunderstandings, long silences. But somehow, the four of us had circled back, stronger than we'd ever been. Maybe it was the shared trauma of being seventh years. Maybe it was just real friendship.

 

"He won't get away with this forever," Imelda muttered. "We'll make sure of it."

 

——————————————

 

I wasn't sure if I was going.

 

Even after everything the girls had said, after their glittering scheming and laughter and the promise of some ridiculous, extravagant gown that Imelda claimed would make Hector "combust" I still wasn't sure.

 

The thought of stepping into that damn ballroom with Hector's hand clamped on mine like a goddamn shackle made my stomach twist into knots. The thought of seeing Sebastian like this made my chest ache so badly it felt like it was going to split open. And yet... the thought of not going, of staying in the dorm pretending I didn't give a flying fuck, pretending I wasn't falling apart. It made me feel like I'd already lost.

 

It had been a few days since our little strategy session in the common room, and despite the girls' best efforts to distract me with hair pins and scandalous dress sketches, the weight of everything pressed down like a fist to my throat. Hector had only gotten worse. Every morning, there he was like some entitled fucking shadow telling me what to wear, how to sit, when to smile.

 

"You're to smile," he said that morning. "None of that sulking you've been doing lately. It makes me look bad."

 

I wanted to punch him so badly I could taste blood.

 

And Sebastian... I'd started doing the one thing I swore I wouldn't do—watching him. Hopeless, sickening, like a damn stalker. I caught glimpses of him in the Great Hall, by the fountain, near the stairs to the Astronomy Tower. Sometimes he looked normal. Other times, his eyes were dead behind the facade. But I couldn't tell. I didn't even want to know.

 

Today, I told myself I was going to the greenhouses.

 

I'd almost made it to the stairs when I turned the corner and—

 

Fuck.

 

Sebastian was there, just ahead, hands tangled in Samantha's hair.

 

That bloody Ravenclaw girl and her fake smile and the stupid laugh that grated on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

 

She was laughing bright and cruel with one hand resting on his chest and the other curled around his neck. Her thumb brushed his cheek. He leaned in and kissed her. Slow. Like she was all he cared about in the world.

 

I felt my guts twist into a knot of poison.

 

I stepped back, shaking. My eyes stung like hell when all of a sudden I heard this agitating, grating voice.

"Oh dear," it sneered. "And here I thought you were finally over him."

 

I turned sharply.

 

Adelaide Oaks, with her perfect smug little smirk and crossed arms.

 

"Guess some girls just don't learn," she said.

 

I didn't say anything. I couldn't. My throat had dried to sandpaper, and my body moved before I could stop it fast, desperate until I shoved open the door to the girls' bathroom.

 

I needed to breathe. To scream. To lose my goddamn mind.

 

I gripped the sink, staring at my reflection.

 

My necklace — his necklace felt warm against my skin, and all I could think was: Did he mean it all back then? Or did he ever mean any of it?

 

I splashed freezing water on my face.

 

Breathe in. Breathe out.

 

It didn't help.

 

Everything inside me was breaking the guilt, the lies, the goddamn charade of pretending I didn't care when I was falling apart. My hands trembled. I was halfway through drying my face when the door creaked open.

 

"Really?" came that bitch's voice. "Crying in a bathroom? How pathetic, Alora."

 

I froze. Adelaide swaggered in like she owned the place, hair perfect, eyes glittering with malice.

 

"Did you think he'd wait for you forever?" she mocked. "You dumped him. And now he's moved on yet again with someone else."

 

I stared her down in the mirror.

 

"You don't know shit," I spat.

"Oh, don't I?" She stepped closer, heels clicking. "Everyone sees them. Including you. He looks pretty damn happy, I'd say. And with how you've been moping lately, who can blame him?"

 

I turned to bite back, but she cut me off before I could get a word out.

 

"You know what's fucking hilarious? You Slytherins think you're untouchable, all high and mighty. But you're just like the rest of us. Desperate, pathetic, left behind."

 

Something inside me snapped and my wand was in my hand before I even realised. Adelaide's eyes narrowed. She opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, I flicked my wand.

 

"Depulso!"

 

This wasn't just a push — it was a fucking launch. She flew backward and slammed against the door with a sharp crack, landing in a heap.

 

I stormed toward her as she groaned, trying to get back up.

 

"You think you're clever, don't you?" I spat. "Always flapping your mouth, always stirring the pot. I should've left your uncle to rot with Ranrok's goblins when I had the chance."

 

Her breath caught shock flickering in her wide eyes.

 

"Maybe next time, I will."

 

She stared at me, stunned into silence. I tilted my head. 

 

"What? Nothing to say now?"

 

She scrambled upright, too shaken to snap back, and slipped out the door without another word, slamming it behind her. I was left standing alone in the ruins of my patience, the shattered pieces of self-control littered across the cold bathroom tiles.

 

And suddenly, I knew.

 

I was going to the ball.

 

I didn't care how fake I'd have to smile, or what Hector said, or who Sebastian had on his arm.

 

Fuck. It. Let them all look.

Chapter 36: Can you feel my heart?

It had been three days since I'd blasted Adelaide Oaks across the girls' bathroom. And yet, the castle still buzzed with the aftermath. Everywhere I went, there were whispers. Eyes that lingered just a second too long. Conversations that stopped the moment I entered the room, only to resume the moment I left.

 

Apparently, I was terrifying now. Dangerous. Unstable.

 

Good.

 

I walked through the Great Hall with my head held high, ignoring the subtle hush that followed me like a shadow.

 

"That's her," someone whispered from the Gryffindor table.

 

"She fucking launched Adelaide Oaks into a wall."

 

"I heard it cracked the tile—"

 

"No, it was a mirror."

 

"Didn't she black out?"

 

"My cousin in Ravenclaw said she swallowed a tooth."

 

Merlin's saggy bollocks. It had been one spell.

 

I slid into my usual spot at the Slytherin table, where the girls were already waiting — and judging by the smirks on their faces, they'd been counting down the seconds.

 

"Ohhh, here she is," Priscilla grinned, practically vibrating with excitement. "Our Dark Queen of Depulso."

 

Imelda cackled.

 

"Honestly? You did us all a favour. I've wanted to slap Oaks since fourth year. You just did it with more... flair."

 

"I didn't mean to hit her that hard," I muttered, grabbing a piece of toast. "It just... happened."

 

Violet snorted. 

 

"She flew six feet. You meant it."

 

I rolled my eyes, but my mouth tugged into a grin.

 

"Okay maybe I meant it a bit. She was being a proper cow."

 

"She called you pathetic," Imelda said with a scowl. "Honestly, she got off lightly."

 

I sighed, pushing food around my plate. It was true Adelaide had picked the worst day to come for me in the girls' bathroom, spewing venom about Sebastian and Samantha like I hadn't already hit my breaking point. One wrong word, one sharp breath, and the rage just... exploded. Magic pulsed out of me like a storm.

 

Now she was being treated in the hospital wing and walking with a limp.

 

Did I feel bad? Not especially.

 

I glanced across the hall. Sebastian wasn't at his usual seat. Neither was Samantha. Probably off somewhere snogging in a corridor.

 

My stomach twisted.

 

"So," Violet said, cutting through the awkward silence like she'd rehearsed it, "we all ready for tonight?"

 

"Oh absolutely," Priscilla beamed. "And this one—" she pointed her croissant at me "—is getting the full glam treatment. Face beat. Hair curled. Dress legendary. I want jaws on the floor."

 

Imelda leaned closer, eyes gleaming. 

 

"Especially his jaw."

 

I flicked a bit of egg at her. 

 

"Shut up."

 

"Oh come on," she grinned. "You think I don't notice how you tense every time his name comes up?"

 

"I didn't say his name."

 

"You didn't have to."

 

I groaned and dropped my head to the table. 

 

"Someone hex me now."

 

——————————-

 

The girls were still cackling about Adelaide's flight path as we left the Great Hall, trailing crumbs of toast and chaos behind us. I offered the occasional smirk, a half-hearted chuckle, but my mind was already spinning ahead of the ball, the dress, the fake smiles, the boy who wouldn't look at me like I was real anymore.

 

I let them walk on without me, pretending to tie my shoe. Really, I just needed a fucking second to breathe.

 

"She's still alive, you know."

 

I looked up. Ominis was leaning against a column, arms crossed, that irritatingly perceptive smirk tugging at his lips.

 

I groaned. 

 

"Don't you start."

 

"Start? Oh, no, I'm firmly on Team Launch-the-Bitch. She's lucky it was Depulso and not a well-aimed ancient magic lightening bolt."

 

I snorted despite myself. 

 

"You should hear what the Ravenclaws are saying. Apparently she bounced off three walls and went into orbit."

 

"Legendary," he said. Then, softer: "You alright?"

 

I paused, suddenly hyper-aware of how quiet the corridor had gone.

 

"I'm fine."

 

"Hmm."

 

"Don't 'hmm' me."

 

He turned his head slightly, those pale, unseeing eyes somehow pinning me anyway. 

 

"You don't have to pretend with me, Alora. I know you."

 

I looked down at the floor. "It's nothing. It's just... everything."

 

He waited.

 

"I didn't mean to lose it like that," I mumbled. "But she knew exactly what she was doing. Mentioning him. Twisting it. Acting like I'm some pathetic girl crying over a boy who never wanted me."

 

"Which is obviously bullshit."

 

"Is it?" I snapped, more bitterly than I meant to. "Because from where I'm standing, it's looking pretty fucking accurate."

 

Ominis sighed and stepped toward me, his hand brushing my sleeve to find me properly.

 

"Sebastian isn't himself," he said carefully.

 

I frowned. "Don't make excuses for him."

 

"I'm not. I'm saying... I think something's wrong."

 

I blinked. "Like... what kind of wrong?"

 

He hesitated. Too long. His jaw flexed — a silent war in his head. Then he just shook it off with a noncommittal shrug.

 

"Just... keep your eyes open tonight."

 

I gave him a suspicious look. "That's cryptic as hell, Gaunt."

 

He smiled faintly. "Wouldn't want to ruin the surprise."

 

"I swear to Merlin, if you're planning something—"

 

"Moi?" he gasped, mock-offended. "I'm just attending a school dance. Maybe having a few drinks. Flirting with Poppy Sweeting if the stars align."

 

I rolled my eyes. "You're unbearable."

 

"You love me."

 

I bumped his shoulder. "Unfortunately."

 

As he turned to leave, he called over his shoulder

 

"You are going to the ball, right?"

 

"Against my better judgement."

 

"Good," he said simply. "You'll want to be there when it all kicks off."

 

After Ominis disappeared down the corridor no doubt off to stir whatever chaos he had brewing — I stayed still a moment longer. Let the quiet settle. Tried to unclench my jaw, but the tension in my chest wouldn't budge.

 

I needed to move. Clear my head. Shake off the conversation and everything he didn't say.

 

So I took the long way back toward the common room, cutting through a side passage by the tapestry hall. It was mostly empty, everyone else too busy gossiping or fussing over last-minute dress fittings.

 

I rounded the corner and nearly collided with someone coming the other way.

 

"Oh—sorry—"

 

I froze.

 

Sebastian.

 

His uniform was slightly wrinkled, collar half-turned, tie loose like he hadn't bothered to fix it since waking up. His eyes — still warm brown, still heartbreakingly familiar — landed on me, and for a second, his whole expression faltered.

 

"...Alora?"

 

It hit me like a punch to the gut.

 

Not a sneer. Not a blank stare. Not that smug, distant act he'd been putting on for weeks.

 

Just one soft, confused word.

 

"Yeah," I said, too quietly.

 

His brow furrowed, gaze flicking over me like he was trying to place something. His mouth opened, but nothing came out at first.

 

Then: "I—"

 

A pause. A blink. He took a half-step forward.

 

"Sorry. I just... I feel like I—do we...?"

 

He trailed off again, like the words were stuck in his throat. Like something inside him was trying to claw its way out.

 

My heart thudded so loudly I was sure he could hear it. I didn't breathe. I didn't move.

 

"Sebastian!"

 

Samantha's voice rang sharp from behind him, cutting the moment in two. She rounded the corner with a scowl, arms folded, hair already half-pinned for the ball like she was prepping for a coronation.

 

"There you are," she said, grabbing his sleeve. "You vanished. Don't make me hunt you down again."

 

He blinked, disoriented. "I just—ran into—"

 

But she was already pulling him away, flashing me a look that could curdle pumpkin juice.

 

Sebastian didn't resist. But as they turned, he looked over his shoulder.

 

Only for a second.

 

But he looked.

 

And it was enough to leave me standing there, hand hovering near my chest, wondering what the hell just happened.

 

Something's wrong.

 

Something's off.

 

I don't know what it is.

 

But I felt it.

 

————————————

 

By the time I made it back to the dorms, my head was spinning.

 

That corridor.

 

The way he'd looked at me.

 

Like he'd seen me. Not just noticed, not just glanced  but really seen me.

 

And then she dragged him away like she owned him. Like he belonged to her.

 

I didn't know what was real anymore.

 

"Oi!" Imelda's voice snapped me out of it the second I opened the door. "You took your sweet time. Thought you'd ditched us for a nap or a nervous breakdown."

 

"Both sound equally tempting," I muttered.

 

But I barely made it two steps in before I was attacked with a face mist and nearly blinded by shimmering setting spray.

 

"Stand still!" Violet cried, chasing me with a wand in one hand and a makeup brush in the other. "We have work to do."

The dorm had exploded into full glam mode. The beds were piled with dresses, half-empty cosmetic kits, shoes, curling irons, and enchanted mirrors yelling "NOPE, TRY AGAIN" at anyone who dared walk past with frizzy hair.

Priscilla yanked me toward the full-length mirror. 

"We're starting with your face. I don't care if you've cried today  we're covering that sadness with highlighter and a vengeance arc."

 

I blinked. "I—what?"

 

"Sit. Now."

 

Ten minutes later, I was seated in front of the mirror while Priscilla and Violet tag-teamed me like I was a bloody mannequin. Blush, contour, gloss. Hair curling like waves of silk around my waist. False lashes charmed to stick without stabbing me in the eye — thank Merlin.

 

"I'm not being funny," Violet said, twisting a section of my hair, "but if Sebastian doesn't regret everything he's ever done in his entire life the second he sees you tonight, I'm hexing him in the dick."

 

"I second that," Priscilla chimed, dabbing shimmer on my cheekbones. "I've always wanted to test a Bat-Bogey Hex on his bollocks."

 

"Thirded," Imelda said from the corner, slipping into her heels. "But also... maybe he already does."

 

I flinched. "What do you mean?"

 

She raised a brow. "Nothing. Just... he looked off earlier. Like confused. Spaced out."

 

My stomach twisted. "Yeah. I noticed."

 

"Did he say something to you?" Violet asked, eyes wide.

 

I shook my head. "He started to. Then Samantha showed up and shoved her tongue down his throat."

 

"Classy," Priscilla muttered. "She looks like she licks doorknobs."

 

"She licks his doorknob," I mumbled.

 

"Okay, ew." Imelda gagged. "Take that back."

 

"Sorry."

 

Priscilla finished the last curl and stepped back. 

 

"Right. Dress time."

 

She held it up — deep emerald, corseted bodice, dramatic ruffled skirt that draped like water. It shimmered with every movement, like it had been sewn with basilisk silk and bad decisions.

 

My fingers twitched at my sides. "It's a bit much."

 

"It's not," all three girls said at once.

 

Violet smirked. "This dress says: 'I could kill you and get away with it.'"

 

Imelda added, "It also says: 'You lost the hottest girl at Hogwarts and now you have to watch her shine while you dry-hump Samantha Dale on the dancefloor.'"

 

"That is exactly what it says," I said, lips twitching into a smirk.

 

Priscilla helped me step into it, lacing me up like I was about to enter a Hunger Games arena, not a school dance. And honestly? Close enough.

 

When I turned to face the mirror, even I had to take a step back.

 

I didn't look like me.

 

I looked dangerous. Glowing. Powerful.

 

Someone not to be pitied but feared.

 

"I look like I murder men for sport," I whispered.

 

"You do," Violet said proudly.

 

"Let's go ruin lives," Imelda grinned.

 

————————————

 

The corridor outside the Slytherin common room echoed with the sound of our heels.

 

My chest felt like it might explode. Either from the corset or sheer anxiety, hard to say. Probably both.

 

The four of us walked in step, hair bouncing, dresses glittering, perfume trailing like smoke. If confidence had a scent, it would've been whatever Violet charmed onto us before we left. Something sharp and sweet and dangerous.

 

By the time we reached the grand staircase, I could already hear the music floating through the castle, soft piano and violins enchanted to shift with the mood of the room. The lights had dimmed into a warm golden hue. And just beyond the arched doors, the ballroom was alive with laughter, magic, and candlelight.

 

I inhaled sharply.

 

Imelda nudged me. 

 

"You alright?"

 

"Yeah," I lied.

 

"Because you look like you're about to pass out."

 

"Good. That means the makeup will hold."

 

Priscilla snorted and looped her arm through mine.

 

 "C'mon, queen. Time to show them what regret looks like."

 

And then we stepped out onto the landing.

 

Conversation dulled. Music paused. Every pair of eyes in the bloody castle turned upward.

 

I could feel it.

 

My heart was in my throat. My palms were sweating. But I didn't stop.

 

We descended the stairs slowly and I let them look. Let them stare.

 

I walked like I belonged there. Like I had nothing to prove.

 

Because I didn't.

 

At the bottom of the staircase, Hector was waiting.

 

Hair slicked back, dress robes perfectly tailored, smug grin locked and loaded.

 

He offered his hand like we were in a bloody fairytale. 

 

"You look breathtaking."

 

I placed my fingers in his palm and smiled. 

 

"Don't I always?"

 

"Shall we?"

 

I nodded, but my eyes flicked up — just once.

 

And there he was.

 

Sebastian. Across the entrance hall, half-shadowed by floating lanterns, leaning against a pillar with a drink in hand. Samantha clung to his side like ivy on a crumbling wall.

 

But he wasn't looking at her.

 

He was looking at me.

 

Not a quick glance. Not a passive once-over. Staring.

 

Jaw slightly clenched. Brows drawn. Confused. Tense. Like he was trying to place a name he used to say in his sleep.

 

For half a second, the air between us crackled.

 

And then Samantha pulled his face toward hers, whispering something in his ear.

 

His gaze broke. The moment snapped.

 

I turned toward the Great Hall and walked in with Hector.

 

But my fingers trembled at my side.

 

————————————

 

The Yule Ball was a goddamn fever dream.

 

The enchanted ceiling sparkled with constellations that moved across the sky in real time. A full orchestra of floating instruments played themselves near the stage, switching between classical and modern as students danced in twirling clusters. Tables lined with crystal bowls of punch and floating candles stretched around the perimeter. Professors watched from the corners, sipping drinks and pretending not to care what we all got up to.

 

And in the center of it all: a glittering, whirling mass of teenagers trying to pretend none of them were emotionally unwell.

 

I clutched Hector's arm as we moved deeper into the crowd. Every step felt heavier. Every laugh felt too loud.

 

All I could think about was him.

 

Was he still looking?

 

Could he feel it too, whatever that flicker was between us on the staircase?

 

"Drink?" Hector asked, already leading me toward the refreshments.

 

I nodded, barely registering the people brushing past me, complimenting the dress, whispering behind their hands.

 

I was here.

 

I was dressed like a goddess.

 

And all I wanted was to be somewhere else.

 

*Ominis' POV*

 

No one ever noticed the blind boy.

 

That was their first mistake.

 

I slipped along the edge of the Great Hall, unseen and unheard — just another background prop in everyone's romantic fantasy of the Yule Ball. Perfect.

 

My fingers grazed the table as I reached the drinks station, lingering near the bowl of strawberry punch. I could hear the sloshing, the chatter, the squeals of some girls hyping one another up.

 

And right in the middle of it all?

 

Sebastian.

 

Still under her spell. Still playing her little puppet. But not for much longer.

 

I slid the small glass vial from my inner pocket and tipped it low into the bowl. One drop. Then two. The clear liquid shimmered for a moment, then vanished completely.

 

Antidote. Strong. Precise. Brewed two days ago in the Potions classroom while Poppy kept watch and I tried not to have a nervous breakdown.

 

There wasn't enough to cure everyone, not that anyone else needed it. Just enough for one person. One drink.

 

And knowing Sebastian, he'd be throwing it back in thirty seconds.

 

I stepped back, listening.

 

Laughter. Music. Her voice.

 

And then his — distant, confused.

 

Good.

 

It's working.

 

*Sebastian's POV*

 

Something's wrong. 

 

The thought came out of nowhere not fully formed, but sharp. Like a splinter under skin. And no matter how hard I tried to ignore it, it wouldn't stop digging deeper.

 

The music swelled. Samantha laughed beside me. I smiled.

 

I didn't mean to.

 

Her hand was in mine. Her other one rested on my shoulder, clutching like she thought I might bolt at any second.

 

Maybe I would.

 

The dancefloor was glowing, full of spinning lights and blurred colours. Students laughing, twirling, drunk on enchantments and adrenaline. Everything was slightly too bright, too warm, too loud.

 

I couldn't breathe.

 

Samantha leaned in again, brushing her lips just under my jaw. 

 

"You look amazing tonight."

 

"Thanks," I said, but it came out thin. Automatic.

 

She swayed into me. 

 

"You're quiet."

 

"I'm tired."

 

She pouted. 

 

"You were fine this morning."

 

Yeah. This morning I hadn't seen her.

 

Alora.

 

Fuck.

 

Why couldn't I stop thinking about her?

 

It started earlier — just a flash. A stumble. She'd bumped into me in the corridor and for a second, I forgot everything.

 

The way she'd looked at me. Like she was bracing for heartbreak.

 

The way her voice said my name like it meant something.

 

Then Samantha pulled me away. Her grip, her scent, her voice — it all felt wrong after that. Clingy. Off. Like I'd stepped into the wrong version of a dream.

 

And now I was standing in the middle of the Great Hall, surrounded by magic and music and everything I'd supposedly wanted and I felt like I was drowning.

 

Samantha's hand slid up the back of my neck.

 

I flinched.

 

She pulled back a little. 

 

"What's with you tonight?"

 

"I said I'm tired," I muttered.

 

She raised a brow. 

 

"Well, try and pretend to have fun. People are watching."

 

I looked past her and there she was.

 

Alora Winters.

 

Dancing with Hector fucking Fawley. Laughing, lips painted glossy pink, her dress hugging her like it had been stitched by the gods themselves. Her thigh flashed with every step. Her hair spilled down her back in long, effortless waves. And her eyes

 

They weren't on me.

 

She didn't look at me.

 

But somehow, I still couldn't breathe.

 

"Sebastian." Samantha's voice snapped again. "You're doing it."

 

"Doing what?"

 

"That thing." Her voice dropped into a whine. "Where you disappear into your head and pretend I'm not here."

 

Maybe you're not.

 

My throat felt tight. The air was thick.

 

I reached for the drink in my hand. Cold punch,  Whatever. I drained the whole thing in two gulps.

 

It didn't help.

 

Something in me felt like it was... coming undone. A knot loosening. A weight shifting behind my eyes.

 

Samantha stepped closer, pressing her chest against mine.

 

"Dance with me properly," she whispered. "Let's give them something to stare at."

 

She grabbed my hands and placed them on her hips.

 

They didn't fit right. They never did.

 

I blinked. My vision flickered. Just for a second, I saw a different girl in my arms. Blue eyes. Laughing. A whisper of a memory that wasn't mine.

 

...Was it?

 

My pulse thundered. I staggered a step back.

 

"What the hell?" Samantha snapped. "Are you seriously going to start acting weird now?"

 

"I'm not—" I swallowed hard. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

 

She scowled. "Maybe nothing. Maybe you're just being an arsehole."

 

Maybe I was.

 

But maybe not.

 

I looked around again, eyes scanning until they found her. Alora was standing by the drinks table now, sipping something pink and bubbly, laughing at something Imelda said. Her arm brushed Hector's, but she didn't react. Not even a flinch.

 

Like she was used to it.

 

Like she hated it.

 

I didn't know what was going on. But I knew this:

 

I couldn't stop looking at her.

 

And every time I did, something inside me screamed to wake up.

 

————————————

 

I couldn't stop staring at her.

 

Even when Samantha grabbed my hand. Even when the music changed. Even when the entire bloody room spun like a carousel.

 

All I saw was Alora.

 

And every time I blinked, something inside me twitched.

 

Her laugh. Her hair. That necklace.

 

Why the hell did it hurt to look at her?

 

"Sebastian," Samantha said through her teeth, her smile still plastered on like a cheap charm. "You're embarrassing me."

 

"We're dancing," I muttered, distracted.

 

"No, we're not. You're gawking at her like you're possessed and just kind of swaying like an idiot."

 

I forced my eyes away.

 

But I couldn't focus on her — Samantha, I mean. I didn't want to. I didn't understand why I was here. Why I'd asked her to the ball. Why I'd spent the last few weeks wrapped around her finger like she'd hexed me—

 

Oh.

 

Ohhh.

 

I stumbled slightly, like the floor had tilted.

 

Samantha caught my arm. 

 

"Seriously, what is wrong with you?"

 

My hands trembled. Something was wrong. My heart slammed against my ribs, and a thousand thoughts came flooding in, fast and sharp and real.

 

Alora.

 

Her voice. Her laugh.

 

That necklace — why did it hurt to see it?

 

My stomach turned. I didn't understand what was happening. It was like watching a memory I'd never made, like something was buried just beneath the surface, clawing to be remembered.

 

I didn't remember her like this. Not really.

 

Just fragments. Just feelings.

 

Like I'd known her in another life — and lost her there too. The way she looked tonight — not just beautiful, but devastating. I felt sick. This isn't right. None of this is right. I stepped back. 

 

"I need air."

 

Samantha didn't let go.

 

"Sebastian—"

 

"Don't touch me," I said, sharper than I meant to.

 

Her mouth fell open. 

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"I said don't fucking touch me." My voice was low. Tight. "Get your hands off me."

 

The music kept playing, but the circle around us shifted. Students slowed. Heads turned.

 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Samantha hissed. "You're making a scene."

 

I laughed. Bitter. Ugly. 

 

"Yeah? Good."

 

I looked straight at her now — really looked, and suddenly it felt like the smoke had finally cleared

 

"Why the fuck have I been hanging around you like some lovesick idiot? You think I give a shit about your perfume or your hair or your pathetic little sob stories? I don't even like you."

 

Gasps rippled across the room.

 

Samantha recoiled like I'd slapped her.

 

"You're under a spell," she snapped. "That's the only explanation—"

 

"No." I took a step forward, eyes narrowing. "It's like I can finally see just how fucking annoying you are."

 

Her eyes welled up. "I can't believe you're doing this."

 

"I can." I looked past her, across the room—

 

Right to her.

 

Alora.

 

My breath caught.

 

Her eyes were wide. She looked like she'd just been punched in the gut. Hector was saying something to her, but she wasn't listening.

 

She was looking at me.

 

For the first time in weeks, I felt awake.

 

And it hurt.

 

*Alora's POV*

 

I didn't mean to stare. But how could I not?

 

One minute they were dancing, and the next, Sebastian was... snapping.

 

Louder than I'd ever heard him. Meaner than I'd ever seen him. Saying things that made people go silent.

 

Even the music stopped. And then his eyes landed on me. Full of confusion. Rage. Realisation. Need.

 

I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Hector's voice was a distant hum.

 

 "Don't look at him, Alora. Remember the deal"

 

But I did.

 

I looked. And he looked back. And in that split second, I knew:

 

Something had changed. Something was coming.

 

————————————

 

*Sebastian's POV*

 

The silence after I spoke was deafening.

 

Samantha stood there, mouth open, frozen in place like I'd hit her with a Full Body-Bind. The entire room seemed to lean in at once heads tilting, whispers building like a brewing storm behind cupped hands and raised brows.

 

"You're under a spell," she repeated, voice rising now. "That's the only explanation—"

 

But then it hit me.

 

No—

 

Not a spell.

 

Not some accidental crush or hormonal haze.

 

I knew this feeling. Not by name. Not in theory. I knew it.

 

My eyes widened. My breath caught.

 

Love potion.

 

Amortentia.

 

"You—" I took a step back, staring at her like she'd turned into a monster. "You put me under a fucking love potion."

 

Samantha's face twisted into something between outrage and panic. "What are you talking about?! That's insane!"

 

My heart thundered in my ears. Memories fractured, warped, wrong, rushed through me. Her hand in mine. Her laugh. The way I'd kissed her and felt absolutely nothing.

 

The way I'd ignored everyone else. Ignored her.

 

Alora.

 

I turned slightly. My eyes searched the crowd and found her instantly standing by the drinks table, rigid, pale, Hector whispering in her ear but she wasn't listening.

 

Because she was staring at me.

 

"Sebastian—" Samantha tried again, stepping forward, voice trembling now. "You're confused. You don't mean what you're saying."

 

"Oh, I do," I snapped. "I fucking do."

 

Whispers turned into low gasps. I saw Gareth Weasley look like he was about to combust from second-hand embarrassment. Even Professor Weasley was now watching from the faculty table, hand halfway to her wand.

 

But before Samantha could get another word out—

 

"He's right."

 

The voice sliced through the chaos like a curse. Clear. Calm. Deadly.

 

Ominis Gaunt stepped forward from the crowd, looking like he'd been waiting for this moment. His wand was at his side, his posture perfect, his expression neutral which made it so much worse.

 

"He was under a love potion," Ominis said, loud enough for the whole room to hear. "You dosed him. And you've been keeping him that way for weeks."

 

Samantha's mouth fell open. "You don't have proof!"

 

"I do," he said coolly. "I brewed the antidote myself. Put it in the punch."

 

A ripple of shocked gasps. Violet actually choked on her drink. Someone from Ravenclaw muttered "Holy shit" under their breath.

 

"You what?!" Samantha shrieked. "That's illegal! You tampered with school property!"

 

"And you tampered with his mind," Ominis said smoothly. "Forgive me for fighting fire with fire."

 

Her face was beet red. "That's slander!"

 

"It's truth," Ominis snapped. "And you're pathetic."

 

The crowd lost it. Laughter. Shock. Professors were standing now. 

 

Samantha turned back to me, grasping. 

 

"You believe me, right? I wouldn't—I couldn't—"

 

I looked at her like she was a stranger.

 

"You don't get to talk," I said, low and cold. "You don't get to lie anymore. I've spent weeks as your little puppet. I kissed you and felt nothing. I laughed at things you said and hated myself for it."

 

"Sebastian—"

 

"You took away my choices. Do you understand that?" My voice rose now, the anger boiling out of me. "You stole me."

 

She tried to slap me.

 

Her hand barely left her side.

 

"Expelliarmus!"

 

Samantha's wand exploded out of her pocket and flew across the ballroom, hitting the punch bowl with a loud CLANG!

 

Everyone turned.

 

Imelda stood near the edge of the crowd, arms folded, wand still raised. Her eyes gleamed like a predator in moonlight.

 

"Oops," she said with a razor-sharp grin. "My wand slipped."

 

Samantha let out a strangled noise humiliated, red-faced, shaking then shoved past a group of stunned Hufflepuffs and fled the ballroom in full sobbing retreat.

 

For a moment, no one moved.

 

Then the whispers began again ten times louder than before.

 

And in the eye of the storm, I turned and looked at her.

 

Alora Winters.

 

Her face unreadable. Her lips slightly parted. Her entire body so still it made my heart ache. She didn't look smug. Or triumphant. 

 

She looked like someone who'd just had the ground ripped out from under her.

Chapter 37: Not by choice

The orchestra stuttered back to life, violins dragging behind the beat like even they didn't know what to do.

 

The crowd hadn't moved much people still whispered in tight little circles, hands flying over mouths like they were afraid their shock might slip out loud. Samantha was long gone. Professors were doing a terrible job pretending to be in control.

 

And I was standing in the middle of it all like a ghost in a green dress.

 

Hector's hand was still on the small of my back, too tight now. Protective or possessive I couldn't tell. Didn't care.

 

My ears rang. I wasn't sure if it was from the music, or the silence before it, or the way Sebastian had looked at me.

 

Like something clicked. Like something broke. Like he finally felt what I'd been feeling this whole time.

 

"Come on," Hector said through clenched teeth. "Let's get out of here before they drag him out in handcuffs."

 

I didn't move. I couldn't stop staring.

 

Sebastian hadn't looked away from me either. His hands were still shaking. His face was pale. He looked like someone had opened his skull and rearranged the inside.

 

"Ominis should've gone to a professor first," Hector muttered, pulling me toward the edge of the crowd. "That was reckless. Public. Stupid. He's just made everything worse."

 

"It's not worse," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's true."

 

"What?"

 

I stopped walking. My heels scraped against the marble. "What he said. It was true."

 

And there it was. The guilt. The grief. The cold, aching truth sliding into my chest like an icepick.

 

He hadn't chosen her.

 

He hadn't kissed Samantha, or laughed with her, or left me standing alone on purpose.

 

He hadn't known, because he'd been cursed, because someone had taken him from me.

 

And worst of all? He still didn't remember me... not fully.

 

I suddenly felt sick.

 

"Come on," Hector spoke sternly now. "Let's get out of here before someone decides to ask you questions."

 

I didn't move.

 

He leaned in closer, his voice low, quiet, just for me. 

 

"Don't even think about it."

 

I blinked. 

 

"What?"

 

"Him," he hissed. "Whatever just happened there doesn't change a damn thing. You stay away from Sallow. You so much as look at him like that again, I'll make a bigger scene than he could ever dream of and this time, you'll be the one answering for it."

 

My throat tightened.

 

"You know what's at stake. One wrong move and you won't just lose your place at Hogwarts. You'll both be gone, expelled, arrested, maybe worse."

 

"Hector—"

 

"Don't play the victim now," he snapped, lips still curled into a mock-smile for anyone watching us. "You made this deal. Don't break it."

 

I looked up at him this boy who once pretended to care.

 

There was nothing soft in his eyes now. Just control. Just power. Just ownership.

 

"I need air," I said, stepping away.

 

He grabbed my wrist. Tight.

 

"Let go," I said, teeth clenched.

 

"Alora—"

 

"I said I need air."

 

He held it a second longer than he needed to. Just to make a point. Then he dropped it, gave a sweet little smile, and stepped back like nothing happened.

 

I didn't wait for a reply. I turned on my heel and walked, fast, out through the double doors and into the corridor, the swish of my dress trailing behind me like a second heartbeat.

 

The hallway was quiet. Too quiet.

 

I turned the corner on instinct, not even thinking about where I was going until I pushed open the door and found myself back in the same girls' bathroom where I'd blasted Adelaide Oaks across the tiles earlier that week.

 

Of course. Full circle.

 

I leaned over the sink, hands braced on cold porcelain, breathing like I'd just sprinted a marathon. My reflection stared back glitter-smudged, lip gloss faded, eyes wide and tired.

 

The dress still looked good. I looked like a goddess. A dangerous one.

 

So why did I feel like I was breaking?

 

I turned on the tap. Let the water run. Cupped my hands and splashed my face, smearing makeup down my cheeks in soft black streaks.

 

"Fucking hell," I muttered to myself. "Get a grip."

 

But I couldn't. Because now it all made sense.

 

The way he'd stared. The flickers of recognition. The corridor. The way he almost said something and then didn't.

 

He hadn't been choosing her over me. He hadn't been choosing anything.

 

And now he knew. And I knew. And the look he gave me  that last, gut-wrenching glance told me something even worse.

 

He felt it. Even if he didn't remember why.

 

A single tear slipped down my cheek, and then the door opened behind me.

 

"Thought I'd find you here," said a voice gently.

 

I turned. Violet stood in the doorway, heels in one hand, mascara smudged, her hair pinned half-up and falling out.

 

"I saw you leave. You alright?"

 

I laughed, humourless. "Do I look alright?"

 

"No," she said honestly. "You look like someone just ripped your heart out and asked you to smile about it."

 

I let out a strangled sound. A sob, or a laugh, or both.

 

She stepped inside, walked over, and without a word, sat cross-legged on the bathroom floor.

 

I sank down next to her. We sat there for a while. Both of us not saying a word. Just two girls in dresses, glitter clinging to their skin, mascara-streaked and emotionally mauled.

 

Eventually, I whispered, 

 

"He didn't forget me."

 

Violet didn't flinch.

 

"That's the worst part," I said. "He knew who I was. He just didn't care."

 

My voice broke.

 

"Until now."

 

—————————————

 

*Sebastian's POV*

 

I didn't know how long I stood there. Could've been minutes. Could've been hours.

 

The cold should've bothered me, but I barely felt it.

 

The ballroom was a low thrum behind me, muffled by thick stone walls and too many lies. Samantha was gone. Ominis had disappeared. And Alora

 

God, Alora.

 

I hadn't seen her leave. I thought she might've gone to bed. Run from it all like she always does when she's hurting.

 

But then A soft shift in the silence. The faint sound of heels on stone.

 

I turned and there she was, lit by the moon.

 

Like a punch to the chest.

 

Her arms were wrapped around herself, cheeks still flushed from crying. Her hair spilled over her shoulders in those long, perfect waves, and her dress - that fucking dress - clung to her like it was designed to ruin me.

 

Her eyes met mine.

 

There were so many things I wanted to say. Things I didn't understand but felt. Words like I'm sorry, like I miss you, like Why does it hurt this much when I don't even know what I did?

 

But neither of us said a word.

 

We didn't need to.

 

The look said everything.

 

I took a step forward. So did she. It was like we were drawn together by some ancient pull neither of us could resist.

 

I opened my mouth.

 

"Alora—"

 

But just as I spoke—

 

The door creaked open behind her with a low groan that echoed through the courtyard.

 

Footsteps. Two sets.

 

"—He's reckless! He should be expelled."

 

The voice rang out from behind her like a whipcrack.

 

She flinched.

 

"Oh, spare me," Ominis snapped, keeping pace, his tone sharper than I'd ever heard. "He was under a potion. A love spell. Or are we forgetting that part?"

 

Hector paused. His eyes swept the courtyard  and landed on us.

 

"There you are," Hector said, voice suddenly sweet — too sweet. "I told you not to wander off."

 

He strode over and curled an arm around her waist like he had a right to touch her.

 

"Come on, darling. You'll catch cold."

 

Alora flinched again.

 

Her eyes broke away from mine and it felt like the spell shattered.

 

Hector moved beside her, reaching for her arm like he had every right. And right behind him came Ominis. His jaw was tight, unreadable. Alora let Hector pull her back toward the steps.

 

And I—

 

I stood there, frozen, as the moment slipped through my fingers.

 

My hand dropped. My chest ached.

 

Hector then turned toward Ominis with that insufferable smirk on his face.

 

"You really think he's not the problem here?" he snapped. "You're blind, Gaunt."

 

Ominis didn't even flinch.

 

"Ah. The classic insult," he said coolly. "How original." 

 

He tilted his head ever so slightly, calm as anything, but his voice was razor sharp.

 

"Next you'll be telling me I can't read a room? Or water's wet?" 

 

I had to physically cover my mouth to keep from snorting. Ominis Gaunt was savage when provoked—and apparently not in the mood tonight.

 

"And yes, I'm blind. Yet somehow I still see through your bullshit."

 

Hector visibly bristled. Ominis just stepped forward, casual, lethal.

 

"Meanwhile, you've got twenty-twenty vision and still can't spot when a girl's repulsed by you."

 

My jaw dropped. Hector scoffed 

 

"Must be exhausting," Ominis finished. "Walking around with all that eyesight and still being in the dark."

 

Even from across the courtyard, I could see Hector's face go rigid.

 

Ominis just stood there, spine straight, head high—completely unbothered. If he'd had sunglasses, he probably would've put them on.

 

Alora was frozen next to Hector, gaze flicking between the two of them like she couldn't believe what she'd just heard.

 

To be honest, neither could I.

 

I watched as Hector basically dragged her back toward the castle. The swish of her dress disappeared through the archway, leaving only silence behind.

 

Then I felt him beside me.

 

Ominis.

 

He didn't say anything at first. Just stood quietly, listening. His breathing was steady. Controlled.

 

"You saw it too, didn't you?" he said finally.

 

I didn't respond.

 

His head turned just slightly, enough to face me. "She's not with him because she wants to be."

 

Something twisted in my chest.

 

"You know that."

 

His voice was barely more than a whisper.

 

Then he turned and walked away, leaving me alone in the courtyard with the cold and the quiet and my racing thoughts.

 

And that's when it hit me.

 

She wasn't just avoiding Hector's hand. She wasn't just cold or distant.

 

She looked sick being near him. She looked like she wanted to run.

 

And yet... she didn't.

 

She let him pull her close. She smiled when he spoke. She nodded along.

 

But not once—not once—did her eyes light up.

 

Not like they used to.

 

Not like when she looked at me.

 

And that's when it sank in.

 

She's repulsed by him.

 

So why is she still with him?

 

The thought sunk into my brain like a hook, deep and sharp.

 

And I couldn't shake it.

 

Not when she walked away.

 

Not when Ominis did too.

 

Not even when I turned and followed after them both, slower, quieter, thinking harder than I had in weeks.

 

Something wasn't right.

 

And I was going to find out what it was.

 

—————————————

 

The Great Hall was loud.

 

Not in the usual way. Not like before a Quidditch match or exam results. This was different. This was the buzz of gossip. The aftermath of something scandalous.

 

The Yule Ball had officially become the talking point of the year.

 

And I was the centre of it.

 

I could feel the stares before I even stepped through the doors. Whispered voices dipped into silence, then erupted into frantic murmuring again the moment I passed.

 

I didn't care. Let them talk.

 

Let them wonder what happened to Sebastian Sallow. Why he snapped. Why he looked like he'd seen a ghost.

 

They could wonder all they wanted.

 

I was too busy wondering about something else.

 

Someone else.

 

Alora.

 

I spotted her immediately. Of course I did.

 

She was seated halfway down the Slytherin table, wedged between Violet McDowell and Imelda Reyes. Her plate was untouched. A cup of tea sat in front of her, steam curling around the rim, forgotten. Her hair was perfectly styled, like always, but her posture... that was wrong.

 

She sat too straight.

 

Too rigid.

 

Like she was trying to hold herself together with sheer willpower alone.

 

And Hector—of course he was there.

 

Leaning into her side, speaking low into her ear. She laughed softly at something he said, and I nearly snapped the fork in my hand in half.

 

It was the fakest laugh I'd ever heard.

 

Nobody else seemed to notice.

 

But I did.

 

Because I knew Alora Winters. I knew the real sound of her laughter. The sparkle in her eyes when she was actually amused, the slight tilt of her head when she was trying not to smile too wide.

 

This wasn't that.

 

This was theatre. Performance. Survival.

 

Her smile was painted on with trembling hands, and her eyes kept flicking to the staff table like she was hoping someone would call her away.

 

I forced myself to look away from her. Focused on my toast. Didn't taste it.

 

Something wasn't right.

 

And Ominis knew it too.

 

He sat across from me, silent, stirring his tea with a distracted frown. He hadn't said a word since we sat down. I could feel him thinking. Could feel the way he tracked the table around us without needing eyes.

 

"You going to say something?" I asked, not looking up.

 

He tapped his spoon against the cup once, then set it down.

 

"I already did," he murmured. "Last night."

 

My jaw clenched. "You could've said more."

 

"And risked her safety?"

 

I looked up sharply. "What?"

 

Ominis tilted his head. "Nothing."

 

Liar.

 

But now wasn't the time to press him. My eyes drifted back across the hall—just in time to see Alora pull her hand away from Hector's touch with the kind of practiced ease that told me it wasn't the first time she'd done it.

 

He didn't even seem to notice.

 

Or maybe he did and just didn't care.

 

He reached again. Rested his palm on her thigh this time.

 

She didn't flinch.

 

She didn't move.

 

But her smile faltered. Just slightly. Like the crack in a mask.

 

I was on my feet before I even realised it.

 

"Where are you going?" Ominis asked.

 

I didn't answer.

 

I wasn't going anywhere, not really. I just needed to get out of the Hall before I did something stupid.

 

Before I dragged him across the table.

 

Before I said her name out loud again.

 

I walked the length of the room, slow and deliberate, hands in my pockets, pretending I wasn't watching. But I was.

 

Alora didn't look at me once.

 

Not when I passed by. Not when I paused near the corridor exit. Not when I turned and stared directly at her back.

 

But I saw the way her shoulders tensed.

 

Like she knew I was there.

 

Like it hurt.

 

Like she wanted to turn around and couldn't.

 

And suddenly I didn't care what anyone thought. Not the students, not the professors, not even Ominis.

 

I cared about her.

 

And something was wrong.

 

She wasn't fine.

 

She wasn't herself.

 

She was playing a role. Smiling like her life depended on it. Sitting beside a boy who didn't even deserve to breathe the same air as her.

 

—————————————

 

The classroom felt colder than usual.

 

It probably wasn't, the torches were lit, the windows shut tight against the November wind — but I couldn't shake the feeling. Something had shifted. And no one else seemed to notice it but me.

 

Alora sat three rows ahead, parchment perfectly squared to her desk, quill poised like she was taking notes. She wasn't.

 

Her eyes kept drifting not toward the blackboard, not toward Hecat's endless lecture on counter-curses, but toward the door. Like she was waiting for something. Or someone.

 

Hector sat beside her, of course. He always did now.

 

Close. Too close.

 

I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he reached toward her. First her wrist, a casual brush under the table. Then her back, his hand resting lightly at the base of her spine.

 

She didn't react.

 

She didn't flinch, or smile, or even acknowledge it.

 

Just sat there, jaw clenched, eyes forward.

 

And that's what made my stomach twist.

 

If she really wanted him if she'd chosen him there'd be something in her body language. Leaning in. Smiling. Laughing like she used to when we sat together in this exact room, sharing ink and inside jokes while pretending to care about class.

 

But there was nothing now.

 

No spark. No connection. Just performance. And the worst part? She hadn't looked at me once. Not since the ball and I hated it.

 

We'd spent months orbiting each other and not just as classmates. We were... something. Always next to each other. Always teasing. Always talking late into the night in corners no one else bothered to notice. I'd memorised the way her nose scrunched when she laughed, the way she'd bite her bottom lip when she was trying not to smile. The way she said my name when she was annoyed with me.

 

And now she acted like I didn't exist.

 

Like I was no one.

 

Professor Hecat's voice finally pierced through my thoughts.

 

"Partners. Wands out. Let's see who remembered anything useful from our previous lessons"

 

I pushed off my desk. My heart was already beating faster. I knew exactly who I wanted to pair with and I wasn't even subtle.

 

I crossed the room in three steps, weaving between students until I was in front of her desk. Her shoulders tensed before she even looked up.

 

"Let's go," I said softly, keeping my tone neutral.

 

She stared at me.

 

It was the first time our eyes had met since the Ball.

 

And it hurt.

 

Because I didn't recognise the look she gave me. It wasn't anger. It wasn't pain. It was worse — cold. Distant. Like she'd locked herself away somewhere and thrown the key off the Astronomy Tower.

 

"I'm with Hector," she said.

 

I glanced toward him. He was halfway through rising from his seat, already looking pissed.

 

I gave him a smile. "Professor said mix it up. Can't argue with the rules, can we?"

 

She didn't argue. She didn't move, either. Just stood slowly, tucking her wand into her sleeve like she was preparing for war.

 

We moved to the other side of the classroom.  The other students gave us space.

 

Too much space.

 

I could feel the attention shift in the room. Eyes flicking between us. Between me and the girl who'd once looked at me like I was her whole world—and now wouldn't look at me at all.

 

"Ready?" I asked.

 

She raised her wand.

 

That was answer enough.

 

The first few exchanges were mechanical. Basic defensive spells. Block, deflect, step, counter. But I watched her more than I fought.

 

She was off-balance.

 

Not physically, she was still sharp, still trained but something in her energy was wrong. She moved like someone playing a part. There was no playfulness, no edge, no smirk threatening to break through like there used to be.

 

"Did I do something?" I asked quietly between rounds.

 

Her jaw twitched.

 

"Or are we pretending that night didn't happen?"

 

"Stop talking," she muttered.

 

"Why?" I stepped closer. "Because you'll slip?"

 

She fired off a disarming spell quick, vicious but I was faster. I blocked it with ease, spinning to the side and sending a stun charm at her feet. She dodged, but her foot dragged slightly.

 

Unusual.

 

"Does he know?" I pressed. "That you look at him like he's insufferable?"

 

"Sebastian."

 

"That you flinch when he touches you?"

 

She froze. Just for a second. But I saw it.

 

And then the mask slammed back into place.

 

"Watch yourself," she said, her voice low and sharp.

 

"No," I snapped. "You watch me. Because something's wrong, and I don't know what it is, but I'm not stupid. So whatever game you're playing, whatever lie you've told yourself... it's not working. I see you, Alora."

 

Her eyes were glassy now. Not from tears, she wasn't that soft. But the look in them was fractured. Like I'd hit a nerve I wasn't supposed to find.

 

The duel ended with a flick of Professor Hecat's wand. She called out a new pairing before either of us could move.

 

Alora turned away immediately, walking straight back to Hector without a word.

 

He was waiting with a smug smile, like he'd won something.

 

But I didn't watch him. I watched her, and I knew one thing 

 

She was lying.

 

—————————————

 

I spotted her near the back of the library, tucked between two dusty shelves of advanced Defence texts and forgotten spellwork journals.

 

Of course she was here. Hiding. Pretending to study.

 

But her book was upside down.

 

She didn't notice me at first. Her legs were crossed beneath her, fingers twisting the hem of her skirt, gaze glazed over like the words on the page didn't mean anything. Her wand lay untouched beside her notes.

 

It was the quietest I'd seen her all week.

 

And maybe the most vulnerable.

 

I stepped closer, careful not to make too much noise. Not because I was sneaking, but because I wanted a second longer to look at her like this. Unguarded. Real.

 

"Didn't peg you for someone who reads about wandless magic just for fun," I murmured.

 

She startled, her eyes flashing up to mine.

 

A moment passed.

 

Then came the sigh. That tired, exasperated sound I used to tease out of her when she was pretending not to enjoy my company.

 

"I'm not in the mood, Sebastian."

 

"That's alright," I said, sliding into the seat opposite her. "I'm in one for both of us."

 

She didn't tell me to leave. She didn't slam the book shut or gather her things in a huff. She just stared at me like I was an ache she didn't want to feel.

 

"Why are you following me around?" she asked, voice low.

 

I tilted my head. "Because you're acting like a stranger. And I'm not a fan of being ignored."

 

"You should be used to it by now."

 

I leaned forward, folding my arms on the table. "But I'm not. And I don't think you are, either."

 

She looked away.

 

Gods, she was beautiful like this. Frustrated. Worn out. Her hair a little messy, ink smudged on her fingers. Like she was trying so hard to pretend nothing was wrong when everything about her was screaming otherwise.

 

"I miss this," I said softly.

 

She froze.

 

"I miss you."

 

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.

 

"Sebastian—"

 

"I don't know what's going on," I said, cutting her off gently. "But I know what this feels like. And this?" I gestured between us. "This isn't fake."

 

"You don't know what you're talking about."

 

"I know you look miserable every time he touches you."

 

That got her.

 

Her jaw clenched. She didn't speak.

 

I leaned in just a little closer, dropping my voice to something darker, smoother. "Tell me you still meant everything you said the day you broke things off, and I'll leave you alone"

 

She opened her mouth—

 

And then his voice sliced through the air like a knife.

 

"There you are."

 

I turned. Slowly.

 

Hector.

 

Of course.

 

He stood at the end of the aisle, arms folded, expression dark. Like he'd just walked in on something he already knew he wouldn't like.

 

Alora's body language changed instantly. She sat up straighter, pulled her sleeves down, tucked her hair behind her ear like she hadn't just been seconds away from saying something dangerous.

 

"I've been looking for you," he said to her, completely ignoring me. "You said you were going to bed."

 

"I needed to finish something," she said quietly.

 

Hector stepped forward, placed a hand on the back of her chair. Possessive. Obvious.

 

"Well. You're finished now."

 

My grip on the table edge tightened.

 

Alora gathered her things without meeting my eyes.

 

"I'll see you around," I said, just loud enough to make Hector's jaw twitch.

 

Alora didn't reply.

 

Hector didn't let her.

 

He steered her out of the row like she was something he owned.

 

But not before shooting me a look over his shoulder. A warning.

 

One I had no intention of listening to.

Chapter 38: Everything but the words

*Sebastian's POV*

 

She was walking ahead of me in the corridor.

 

Alone.

 

No Hector glued to her side, no Imelda or Violet or Priscilla dragging her to class, no forced laughter echoing off the stone. Just her. Her silhouette lit by the afternoon sun filtering through the stained glass, her steps too quick to look casual.

 

She didn't see me.

 

But I saw her.

 

And I moved before I could talk myself out of it.

 

Three long strides and I was beside her, matching pace like it was nothing. Like it was everything.

 

She kept her eyes forward, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Defensive posture. She was walking fast, shoulders set like stone. Determined. Closed off.

 

"Morning, Winters," I said, smooth as ever.

 

She didn't flinch. Didn't stop.

 

But I saw the way her fingers curled tighter under her sleeve.

 

Nothing else.

 

Just the click of her shoes on the stone floor and the stiff set of her jaw.

 

"Oh, come on," I murmured, leaning in just enough that my voice dropped close to her ear. "You're not still giving me the silent treatment, are you?"

 

"Go away, Sebastian."

 

Her tone was clipped. Cold. The kind of cold that wasn't real — the kind people put on when they're trying to keep themselves from crumbling.

 

"I missed you," I said casually. "Didn't you miss me?"

 

She finally glanced at me. One flicker of a look. A warning shot.

 

But it was there.

 

That heat.

 

That spark.

 

Buried under exhaustion and something darker.

 

Then she looked away again. "I don't have time for this."

 

"You always used to," I said softly, brushing my shoulder against hers as we walked. "In fact, I distinctly remember you liking it."

 

"That was before."

 

"Before what?" I asked, tone still light. "Before you started pretending?"

 

She stopped walking.

 

Just like that. Dead halt. I nearly kept going.

 

Her eyes snapped to mine, sharp and icy. "You don't know what you're talking about."

 

"No," I said, quieter now. "But I know what I'm seeing."

 

We were alone in the corridor, no footsteps around us, no portraits whispering. Just the stone, and the echo of her breath, and the tension building between us like lightning waiting to strike.

 

I took a step closer.

 

She didn't move.

 

"You look at him like he makes your skin crawl," I said, eyes fixed on hers. "You smile like it's hurting you. You flinch when he touches you."

 

Her throat bobbed.

 

"And yet here you are. Playing house. Sitting beside him. Pretending."

 

"Stop it."

 

Her voice cracked.

 

And that? That was the first honest thing I'd heard from her in weeks.

 

"I'm not wrong," I said. "But if I am—tell me. Tell me you'd rather be with him. Tell me I meant nothing to you."

 

She stared at me.

 

Furious.

 

Cornered.

 

And still—she didn't move.

 

I stepped into her space, close enough to feel the shift in the air. "Unless I'm right. And you still want me."

 

She turned sharply, like she was about to storm off.

 

I caught her wrist.

 

Not rough. Just enough to make her stop. To remind her I was there. That I saw her.

 

"Alora."

 

She froze.

 

"Look at me."

 

She didn't.

 

"You used to look at me like I was the only one who saw you."

 

Her reply came quiet. Hollow.

 

"That was before you got with Samantha."

 

Something in me cracked.

 

I let go of her wrist.

 

She stepped back instantly, like I'd burned her. Like the touch hurt worse than any spell could.

 

"I'm with Hector now," she said flatly, eyes forward again.

 

"Then why do you sound like you're trying to convince yourself?"

 

She blinked, once.

 

And just like that—the mask slipped.

 

Not all the way. Just a flicker.

 

But it was enough.

 

I saw it in her face.

 

That ache.

 

The guilt. The wanting. The part of her screaming for me while her mouth told me to leave her alone.

 

She opened her mouth—

 

And then footsteps echoed behind us.

 

Her head snapped toward the sound like someone had shouted a curse.

 

I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

 

I felt it in the way she moved back.

 

Fast. Too fast.

 

The wall went back up. Just like that. Her spine straightened, her face smoothed into something blank and obedient.

 

I watched her walk away without another word.

 

Back to pretending.

 

Back to silence.

 

Back to him.

 

But she didn't look at him like she loved him.

 

She looked at me like she couldn't afford to.

 

And I wasn't going to let that go.

 

—————————————

 

I saw her the second she left the classroom.

 

Books hugged to her chest like armor. Head down. Steps brisk. She moved like she had somewhere important to be, but her eyes gave her away—just a flicker to the side. Just enough to let me know she'd seen me trailing her.

 

She didn't stop.

 

Didn't speak.

 

Didn't roll her eyes or curse under her breath or mutter my name like it was a sin she loved tasting.

 

She just walked faster.

 

I followed.

 

My footsteps echoed behind hers, steady and slow. I wasn't in a rush. I didn't need to be. She could try and outrun this all she wanted, but she'd crack eventually. I was sure of it. I could feel it every time our eyes met. Every time her breath hitched. Every time she turned away just a second too late.

 

She rounded a corner, slipped into a narrow corridor lined with worn, faded tapestries that hadn't been cleaned in years. No portraits. No students. Just stone, shadows, and silence.

 

Perfect.

 

She reached for the stairwell handle. I moved before I could second-guess it and caught her wrist. She let out a frustrated sigh like she already knew what was coming, then she turned eyes burning.

 

"Sebastian—"

 

"Why are you running from me?"

 

"I'm not."

 

"You haven't looked me in the eye since the Ball."

 

She yanked her arm. But I didn't let go, I held her just a moment longer. Not rough. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to say I see you.

 

"You used to look at me like you were starving," I said, voice low. "Now you act like I'm not allowed to be near you."

 

"Because you can't," she snapped. "I'm with Hector now."

 

"Yeah, right"

 

Her eyes flashed, and I stepped closer.

 

Close enough that I could feel the static between us.

 

Close enough that I could smell the faint trace of her perfume—vanilla, always vanilla.

 

Her back brushed the wall.

 

"You're still pretending," I said softly. "Even now."

 

"I'm not."

 

"You are," I breathed. "And you're terrible at it."

 

Her jaw clenched. She tried to shift away, but I mirrored her. Not blocking. Just hovering. Like gravity had its own ideas.

 

I leaned in—just slightly—and lowered my voice so only she could hear.

 

"Your hands are shaking."

 

She blinked. Swallowed.

 

Dropped her gaze like it would save her. I let her wrist go and she pulled away instantly like I'd burned her, like even that soft grip had scorched something too close to the truth.

 

She turned slightly, like she might run again. I shifted with her staying close, never touching her, but there.

 

Always there.

 

"Tell me to stop," I said.

 

She froze.

 

"What?"

 

"If you really want me gone, tell me to stop."

 

She didn't.

 

"I'll back off," I added. "No more questions. No more stares across the Great Hall. No more catching you in empty corridors."

 

I tilted my head.

 

"No more remembering what it felt like to have your lips on mine."

 

Her breath caught.

 

I saw it.

 

She shut her eyes for half a second too long.

 

I reached up, brushed a strand of hair from her cheek with two fingers slow, deliberate, reverent. My hand lingered just near her jaw. Not touching. Just close enough to make her skin flush.

 

"Tell me you don't want me," I whispered, "and I'll stop."

 

She opened her mouth.

 

Closed it.

 

Opened it again.

 

But no words came. Because they weren't true.

 

Because I knew her. Every flicker of her gaze. Every shaky breath. Every time she turned her head and thought I wouldn't notice her watching me.

 

She still wanted me. And it was killing her.

 

Her eyes dropped to my lips. Flicked back up. She looked horrified at herself, but she looked.

 

"You don't get to do this," she whispered. "You don't get to ignore everything and then come back and—"

 

"Feel it anyway?" I said. "Because I do, but let's not forget it wasn't actually my fault.. I was under a love potion"

 

"I can't do this."

 

"Can't or won't?"

 

"Sebastian—"

 

"Say it," I said, voice raw now. "Say you don't feel anything when I'm this close."

 

She looked like she was about to scream. Or cry. Or kiss me.

 

And then—

 

Footsteps.

 

Loud and echoing behind us.

 

She flinched like I'd cursed her.

 

Her whole body went stiff. The light vanished from her eyes. Her spine straightened. Her face went blank.

 

I didn't even have to look to know who it was.

 

Hector.

 

I stepped back, jaw tight, blood boiling.

 

She turned away, moving like she couldn't get away fast enough. Like touching me had branded her with guilt.

 

And just like that—

 

She was gone.

 

But not before I saw it. That flicker in her eyes. The tremble in her hands. The way she almost said something—something that would've ruined everything Hector's little performance has been trying to protect.

 

She didn't say no and I wasn't giving up. Not when I'd felt her heart trying to beat its way through her chest. Not when I'd seen her stare at my mouth like she'd forgotten how to breathe. Not when she looked at me like she hated that she still felt something for me.

 

No.

 

She didn't say no.

 

And that meant the game had only just begun.

 

—————————————

 

Friday night at the Three Broomsticks always felt like controlled chaos. The kind of night where something stupid was bound to happen, and everyone was secretly hoping it would.

 

The place was packed. Candles floating above the bar, students crammed into every table, music pulsing faintly through the wooden beams. Butterbeer and Firewhisky flowed like a bloody river.

 

I nursed my second drink, leaning back in my chair like I didn't have a care in the world.

 

But I had one.

 

She was across the pub. Hair swept over one shoulder, green sleeves slipping just off the edge of her arm. She was laughing, but it wasn't real — not the kind of laugh that reached her eyes. I knew the difference.

 

Hector had his arm slung casually across the back of her chair. Close. Possessive. Like he owned her.

 

I swirled the rim of my glass with a fingertip and fought the urge to punch something.

 

"You've been staring for ten minutes," Ellis muttered, nudging me with his elbow. "Going to drink that or glare it into submission?"

 

"Still deciding."

 

Noah leaned across the table, his grin wide and far too knowing. "This is about her, isn't it?"

 

"I have no idea what you mean," I said dryly, sipping my fire whiskey.

 

"Oh come on," Ellis laughed. "We've all noticed. You've been a moody bastard ever since the Yule Ball."

 

Noah smirked. "Is this still about Samantha?"

 

I rolled my eyes. "Not everything revolves around her."

 

"She seems to think otherwise," Ellis said under his breath, nodding across the room.

 

I followed his gaze.

 

Samantha Dale was standing near the bar with a group of Ravenclaws, a drink in hand and eyes burning literal holes into the side of my skull. Her jaw was tight. Her arms crossed. She hadn't spoken to me since the Ball—and that was perfectly fine.

 

I knew what she'd done.

 

So did half the school now.

 

She'd tried to pretend it was all some mistake—some harmless crush gone too far—but everyone knew she'd dosed me with Amortentia and paraded me around like a trophy. And now she had to watch as I ignored her entirely.

 

Good.

 

She deserved to squirm.

 

But she wasn't the one making my chest ache tonight.

 

I turned back to Alora.

 

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, eyes cast downward as Hector leaned in to say something.

 

She didn't flinch.

 

Didn't pull away.

 

But I could see it in her posture—too straight, too stiff, like she was holding something in.

 

My stomach twisted.

 

"She's with Fawley now?" Ellis asked, half-genuine, half-incredulous.

 

I didn't answer.

 

"She's weird around him," Noah added, sipping his drink. "Like she's pretending to like the guy. Makes you wonder what's going on there."

 

I said nothing.

 

Because I'd been wondering the same thing for days.

 

And then, like magic, my solution walked past the table.

 

Dymitri Milov towered over the rest of the room like a Slytherin shaped mountain, already half way through his pint, grinning at someone across the pub. He was broad-shouldered, built like he could bench-press a hippogriff and my new favourite person. 

 

I stood up so fast my chair screeched.

 

"Milo!"

 

He turned mid-stride, one brow raised. "Sallow."

 

"You busy?"

 

He looked around like he wasn't sure what 'busy' meant in this context. "Not really."

 

"Wanna do me a favour?"

 

He shrugged. "Depends."

 

"See that guy?" I pointed toward Hector. "Black hair, smug face, Ravenclaw, the one who thinks he owns the world."

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Get him away from Alora."

 

Milo blinked. "You want me to kill him?"

 

I laughed. "No. Just... distract him. Start a conversation. Pick a fight. Breathe near him. I don't care. Just pull him out of my way."

 

Milo considered this. "You going to owe me for this?"

 

"Absolutely."

 

"Done."

 

He turned without another word and lumbered toward their table like a storm cloud with legs.

 

I didn't follow right away. Just stood there, watching it unfold.

 

I watched him tap Hector on the shoulder. Hector stood slowly, suspiciously. Milo said something low, leaning in. Alora glanced up, startled. Her eyes flicked between them, and for a second—just one—she looked like she might breathe again.

 

She didn't stop Hector from leaving with Milo.

 

She didn't reach for his hand.

 

She just sat there, suddenly alone, hands folded neatly in her lap.

 

My cue.

 

I crossed the room in a few long strides and slid into the seat across from her like I'd been invited.

 

"Evening, Winters."

 

She looked up.

 

Caught.

 

Startled.

 

And for just one second, something like relief flashed across her face.

 

"Looks like your date stepped away."

 

"I'm not on a date," she said flatly.

 

"Good."

 

She didn't move. Didn't speak.

 

But she didn't tell me to leave, either.

 

I leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyes fixed on hers. "He's not right for you."

 

She didn't respond.

 

"He doesn't know how to make you laugh."

 

Still silent.

 

"He doesn't know how to ruin you."

 

Her eyes widened. Lips parted.

 

I let the silence hang.

 

"I'm tipsy," I added, casually swirling the rest of my drink. "And maybe a little reckless."

 

"You always were," she whispered.

 

That cracked something in me. Made my pulse stutter.

 

I leaned closer. "You remember what we were?"

 

"I try not to."

 

"Liar."

 

I watched her lips part. Close. Then part again.

 

Still nothing.

 

I smiled, slow and smug.

 

"That's what I thought."

 

She exhaled sharply, looking away. Her eyes scanned the pub, probably for Hector—but he was still occupied.

 

"I'm not here to cause trouble," I lied. "I just missed talking to you."

 

"I didn't ask you to."

 

"Didn't have to."

 

I let my words linger as I stood again, letting my fingers just barely brush hers as I picked up my glass.

 

She didn't pull away fast enough.

 

"Good talk," I said with a wink, and walked off before she could catch her breath.

 

—————————————

 

*Alora's POV* 

 

The second I stepped into the night air, I could breathe again.

 

The noise of the Three Broomsticks dulled behind me — music, laughter, clinking glasses. But out here? Just wind and moonlight. Quiet. Cold. Clean.

 

I needed that. Just a second. Just one—

 

"Storming off without saying goodbye?"

 

His voice slithered out from behind me.

 

I stopped. Of course. Of bloody course.

 

I didn't turn.

 

"You've been watching me all night," I said flatly. "I figured I'd give you something to chase."

 

Boots on cobblestone. A slow approach.

 

"I thought I was already chasing you," Sebastian said, like it was a fact.

 

I turned slowly. And there he was eyes dark, posture relaxed, tipsy enough to be bold but sharp enough to be dangerous.

 

His hair was messy, like he'd run his fingers through it a hundred times. His tie was loosened, shirt half-untucked. He looked like he belonged in trouble.

 

And I was absolutely screwed.

 

"Funny," I said. "From where I was sitting, it looked like you were too busy being stared at by Samantha."

 

He scoffed. "She's not the one I've been thinking about."

 

"Could've fooled me. You spent weeks pretending I didn't exist."

 

His smile faltered—just slightly. "That wasn't me. That was her potion."

 

I crossed my arms. "You still knew who I was. You didn't forget me."

 

"No," he said, stepping closer. "That's the thing. I never could."

 

The way he said it made my skin tighten.

 

"Even when I was dosed, even when I couldn't think straight — I still noticed you. I just couldn't..." He paused, like he was struggling to find the words. "Everything about you feels familiar. Like we've been here before."

 

My stomach dropped.

 

"We haven't," I lied.

 

He tilted his head. "Then why do I feel like I know what you sound like when you laugh?"

 

"Because you've heard it."

 

"No," he said quietly. "I mean really know it."

 

There was something unsteady in his eyes now. Like he didn't trust his own mind. And maybe he shouldn't.

 

He took another step. Close now. Too close.

 

"I don't know how to explain it," he murmured, voice lower now, husky. "But you... you're burned into me."

 

I swallowed hard. "You're drunk."

 

"I'm aware," he said, smirking. "Makes it harder to keep pretending I'm not obsessed with you."

 

"You were obsessed with Samantha a week ago."

 

"That wasn't real," he snapped — then reined it in. Softer now. "This is."

 

The space between us crackled.

 

I could smell the fire whiskey on his breath, feel the heat radiating from his skin. His hand landed softly against the wall just above my shoulder, caging me in without touching me. His face was inches from mine. Eyes dark. Lips parted. His breath hit my cheek. He wasn't touching me, but I could feel him like a current, like a storm about to break.

 

I hated him.

 

I wanted him.

 

I hated that I wanted him.

 

"I can't," I breathed.

 

His jaw tightened. 

 

"Because of him?"

 

I didn't answer.

 

"That's it, isn't it?" he murmured. 

 

"He'll see."

 

"I don't care."

 

"Well, I do."

 

Silence.

 

Then: "Tell me to stop."

 

I blinked. "What?"

 

He leaned in, nose brushing mine. "If you don't want this — tell me to stop."

 

I couldn't.

 

I should have.

 

But the words wouldn't come.

 

Because truth was, I did want it. I wanted him pressed against me. I wanted the kiss that was burning in the air between us. I wanted to fall, consequences be damned.

 

But I couldn't because Hector would see, because people were watching, because if I gave in now, I might not come back from it.

 

I turned my face at the last second. His lips brushed my cheek instead. A whisper of heat and heartbreak. He stilled. Breathing hard. Then leaned his forehead against the side of my head.

 

"I don't get it," he murmured. "Why do you feel like home when you're near me?"

 

I closed my eyes. It hurt.

 

He pulled back just enough to look at me again. 

 

"Why are you with him?"

 

I blinked. "What?"

 

"Hector," he bit. "You flinch when he touches you. You hate being near him. You smile like it's a curse."

 

I couldn't answer.

 

"You're hiding something."

 

"Don't do this, Sebastian."

 

"Do what? Notice?"

 

His voice was breaking now. Shaky. Honest.

 

"Whatever this is... I'm going to figure it out. Because you don't look at him like that. You look at me like I'm the one who broke you. And I need to know why."

 

My chest tightened. Everything inside me screamed to run.

 

Instead, I turned my face away. "Go back inside."

 

"I will."

 

He hesitated.

 

"But this isn't over."

 

And with that, he left — warm breath still clinging to my skin, his words echoing like a promise carved in stone.

 

—————————————

 

The door clicked softly behind me as he went back inside, sealing me into silence.

 

No more laughter. No more music. No more pretending.

 

Just me.

 

I slipped off my heels without thinking. My feet were aching, but not nearly as much as everything else. My chest felt like it was caving in. My stomach churned. My throat burned with words I hadn't said.

 

The corridor outside the Three Broomsticks stretched long and empty, lit only by flickering lanterns and the pale silver spill of moonlight. The kind of quiet that made you feel like the only person in the world.

 

Maybe I was.

 

I didn't even know where I was walking. Just that I needed to move. Needed to breathe. I took a few shaky steps, the stone cold beneath my bare feet, the night air biting my skin. Somewhere in the distance I could still hear faint shouts, drunken voices, laughter, slurred singing. But it all felt so far away. Like a different world entirely.

 

Like a life I used to live.

 

I turned a corner, passed a shuttered shop, and found myself in a small, empty courtyard tucked between buildings. A cracked fountain sat in the center, dry and moss-covered. I dropped onto the stone ledge surrounding it and finally let myself stop.

 

And then I started to cry.

 

Not the quiet, graceful tears I'd mastered over the years. Not the kind you could blink away before someone noticed.

 

This was real.

 

Raw.

 

Unfiltered.

 

The kind of cry that built up over months. The kind that came from deep inside your chest, where all the pain settled when you didn't let it out. My shoulders shook. My breath stuttered. And the sound that left me was some awful mix between a sob and a scream.

 

I hated this.

 

I hated him.

 

I hated me.

 

Why couldn't I just be normal? Why couldn't I have fallen for someone easier? Someone safe? Someone who wouldn't rip my heart out and hand it back still beating?

 

Because it had always been Sebastian.

 

Even before I understood what love was, it had been him.

 

And the worst part?

 

It still was.

 

Even now.

 

Even after everything.

 

Even after he forgot me, even after he ignored me and walked past me like I was no one for weeks. Even after I'd spent over a month playing Hector's little puppet to keep Sebastian safe.

 

He had no idea.

 

And yet... in that alleyway tonight... he'd looked at me like I was the only thing he'd ever known for certain.

 

Like some part of him remembered. Or at least felt it.

 

And that nearly undid me completely.

 

Because if there was one thing worse than him forgetting me...

 

It was him remembering just enough to want me again — but not enough to know why.

 

I curled my arms around my knees and let my head drop.

 

"I miss you," I whispered.

 

The words felt so small in the open air. Like a secret I wasn't allowed to say out loud. But it was the truth. Merlin help me, I missed him so much it physically hurt.

 

I missed the boy who'd smirked at me across DADA class in fifth year.

 

I missed the boy who used to leave stupid little notes in my books.

 

I missed his stubbornness, his recklessness, his loyalty.

 

I missed the way he made me feel like I could be both terrifying and loved.

 

And now?

 

Now I was stuck with Hector bloody Fawley. Trapped under his watchful eye. Smiling for the sake of survival. Lying through my teeth. All because I wanted to protect Sebastian.

 

And he didn't even know.

 

I let out a broken breath and tipped my head back to look at the sky. It was so clear tonight. Stars dusted across the black like scattered glitter. The kind of night that felt like it should've meant something. The kind of night where something magical was supposed to happen.

 

Instead, I was sitting alone in a crumbling courtyard, crying over a boy who didn't remember giving me his heart.

 

What a joke.

 

I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand, smudging makeup into my skin.

 

"Pull yourself together," I muttered.

 

But the words didn't hold any power anymore.

 

I didn't feel strong.

 

I didn't feel fierce.

 

I just felt tired.

 

Like every part of me was unraveling, thread by thread, and if I didn't do something soon, I was going to disappear.

 

"I just want to go back," I whispered into the dark.

 

To before the war. Before the Repository. Before the killing.

 

Before the secrets. Before the lies. Before Sebastian stopped looking at me like I was his. Back when things were simple or at least, they felt that way. I closed my eyes and let the memory wash over me. Fifth year. Cold mornings in the Undercroft. His fingers brushing mine as he handed me a quill. The way he used to grin when I bested him in a duel. The way he used to say my name.

 

Alora.

 

Like it meant something.

 

I opened my eyes again. He said it like that tonight. Just once. But it was enough to unravel everything I'd spent weeks trying to hold together.

 

And if I wasn't careful...

 

I was going to break.

Chapter 39: Behind blue eyes

*Sebastian's POV*

 

I'd never noticed how loud this castle could be when it was quiet.

 

Not the obvious noise—the chattering students or the scraping chairs or the occasional first-year setting something on fire. No, this was different. This was the sound of whispers. The kind that sank through stone walls and spread like rot. The kind that weren't loud, but somehow still everywhere.

 

And right now, they all led to her.

 

Alora Winters.

 

Slytherin girl. Sharp tongue. Sharp wand. Beautiful in a way that felt like a dare.

 

She was sitting three rows ahead of me in Charms, spine too straight, hair tucked perfectly behind her ear. Everything about her screamed composed. But I knew better now. I'd seen the cracks. The way she flinched when Hector touched her. The way she avoided mirrors, like her own reflection might accuse her of something. The way she stared through me when she thought I wasn't looking.

 

She'd been quiet since the Yule Ball. Colder. Distant. It wasn't just heartbreak, it was like someone had turned her to stone and left just enough of her alive to feel it.

 

And it was driving me fucking insane.

 

Every day since that night, I'd tried to piece it together. Why she was with him. Why she stayed with him. Why she looked at me like she was trying not to drown. Why her laugh around Hector sounded like it had been buried and dug up again.

 

And every day, I got closer to an answer I didn't want.

 

She was pretending.

 

She was pretending to be happy. Pretending to be fine. Pretending that being with him didn't make her sick.

 

But why?

 

Why would she do that?

 

What was she protecting and who?

 

My quill hovered uselessly over my parchment. I hadn't written a single word of the assignment. Not that Professor Ronen had noticed; he was too busy scolding the Hufflepuff at the back for turning their partner's nose into a butterfly wing.

 

Alora hadn't noticed either.

 

I hated how familiar she felt. Like I'd known her longer than I actually had. Like some part of me remembered her from a life I'd forgotten. Like we were two pages ripped from the same book, stitched back together all wrong.

 

I hadn't spoken to her since that night in outside the Three Broomsticks. I'd tried. Merlin knows I'd tried. But she dodged me with Aura precision, always slipping away before I could say more than her name.

 

And Hector was always nearby. Like a shadow that refused to leave.

 

Speak of the devil.

 

The classroom door creaked open mid-lesson, and in came Hector Fawley, all polished boots and smug smiles. His Ravenclaw uniform was pressed within an inch of it’s life, and his tie was knotted like he'd practiced in the mirror for half an hour. He walked straight past the professor's annoyed glare, dropped a note on her desk, and slid into the empty seat beside Alora like he belonged there.

 

Her entire posture changed. Shoulders stiffened. Chin lifted. Hands clutched tighter to her quill. 

 

She didn't look at him.

 

Not once.

 

But he smiled anyway—like he'd won something.

 

The urge to hex him into the next century was almost overwhelming.

 

I watched him whisper something to her. She didn't reply. Her eyes stayed locked on the blackboard, but I saw it—that little twitch in her jaw. The way she blinked too fast. The way her hand trembled slightly before she steadied it.

 

He said something else. She flinched.

 

That was it. I was done sitting still.

 

I pushed back my chair. Stood up.

 

Professor Ronen looked up sharply. "Mr. Sallow?"

 

"Bathroom," I muttered, not waiting for permission.

 

I stepped into the corridor, heart hammering, pulse too loud in my ears. I needed air. I needed answers. I needed her.

 

And then—because fate has a twisted sense of humour—he appeared.

 

Ominis Gaunt. Calm. Collected. Deadly in that quiet, posh way that made you wonder if he'd poison your tea just for blinking too loud.

 

He was standing near the corridor arch, leaning against the stone with his arms crossed like he'd been waiting.

 

"Skipping class, are we?" he said without looking my way.

 

"I could ask you the same."

 

He tilted his head. "I don't need a reason to lurk. It's in my blood."

 

I snorted. "Fair."

 

A beat of silence.

 

Then, softly: "You're watching her."

 

I didn't answer.

 

"You've been watching her for days," he said. "And you're not exactly subtle about it."

 

I looked away. "She's not okay."

 

"No," he agreed. "She isn't."

 

That made me pause. "You noticed too?"

 

"I notice everything." He turned his face toward me, sightless eyes eerily still. "And I've noticed him."

 

My chest tightened. "Fawley."

 

Ominis nodded slowly. "He has a hand around her throat, metaphorically speaking. But I wouldn't put it past him to make it literal."

 

The words hit me like a hex.

 

"You think he's—"

 

"I know he's dangerous," Ominis interrupted. "And I know she's too scared to say why."

 

I looked at him, really looked. "And you're just... what? Waiting?"

 

"No," he said softly. "I'm planning."

 

Another pause.

 

"Sebastian," he said, and this time his voice was steel. "I need you to keep doing what you're doing. Watch her. Stay close. Make her feel safe."

 

My brows furrowed. "Why?"

 

"Because I'm going to make Fawley feel very, very unsafe."

 

————————————————

 

*Alora's POV*

 

The Astronomy Tower was quiet.

 

Not peaceful just quiet in that hollow, brittle kind of way, like the silence might shatter if I so much as breathed too hard.

 

I leaned against the metal railing, letting the wind bite at my bare arms, my dress doing absolutely nothing to stop the cold. Not that I cared. The chill was the only thing keeping me grounded, reminding me I was still here. Still alive. Still trapped.

 

The steps creaked behind me.

 

I didn't have to look.

 

I felt him before I saw him.

 

Sebastian.

 

His footsteps were slow. Hesitant. Like he wasn't sure if I'd vanish if he got too close.

 

"I figured you'd come up here," he said softly.

 

I didn't answer.

 

He came to stand beside me anyway, leaving barely a foot of space between us. His shoulder almost brushed mine. I didn't move.

 

Neither did he.

 

"You're cold," he said, after a pause.

 

"I'm fine."

 

He didn't believe me. I could feel it in the silence. Then I felt soft fabric. His cloak being draped over my shoulders with slow, careful hands.

 

I tensed as his fingers brushed my skin, just barely, but it was enough to make my stomach twist. He lingered a second longer than he should've. Like he felt it, too.

 

"I can't feel the cold," he murmured.

 

"Because your blood runs hot?"

 

That earned a quiet laugh. 

 

"Because I'm distracted."

 

He didn't say by what. He didn't have to.

 

We stood in silence again, but it felt charged now almost electric. The kind of silence that dared someone to move first. To speak. To break it.

 

I stared straight ahead, eyes unfocused, trying not to notice the way he kept stealing glances. Like he was building the courage to say something he didn't understand yet.

 

"You wear that necklace a lot don’t you?," he said suddenly, voice quiet. "All year."

 

I froze.

 

The pendant had slipped from my dress, the moonlight catching the green gemstone. It dangled just above my sternum, close to where his eyes kept flicking and not just because of the necklace.

 

He reached out, fingers brushing the air between us. "It's glowing."

 

I should've stopped him.

 

But I didn't.

 

His fingertips grazed the stone just barely — and it pulsed softly with swirls of light.

 

We both stilled.

 

Sebastian drew his hand back slowly, staring like the thing had just whispered something only he could hear. "It's enchanted."

 

I swallowed. "Yes."

 

He blinked. "What does it do?"

 

I hesitated too long. That was my mistake.

 

His eyes snapped to mine, sharp and searching. "Alora?"

 

I reached up quickly and tucked the necklace back under my dress like it meant nothing. "It's... just a trinket. Warming charm. I get cold easily."

 

"Right," he said, too flat.

 

But I didn't let him question it. I turned away slightly, breaking the spell, pushing past the tension even as it clung to the space between us.

 

"You didn't come up here just to talk about jewellery."

 

"No," he admitted. "I didn't."

 

He stepped closer no more than a breath between us now, and my pulse spiked so violently I thought it might knock me backwards.

 

"I came because..." He trailed off, and when I glanced sideways, he was already watching me.

 

"Because?"

 

His jaw tensed. "I don't know. I saw you head up here alone, and I just... I had to follow."

 

I turned fully then, facing him foolishly, stupidly and that was the moment I knew I'd made a mistake. Because he was looking at me like he'd never seen me before. Or maybe like he had, a long time ago, and was only now remembering.

 

And God help me, I wanted him to.

 

His eyes dropped to my lips. Just for a second.

 

"Sometimes I feel like I've known you longer than I should," he said softly. "Does that sound insane?"

 

"No," I breathed. "Not at all."

 

"It's like..." He took a shaky breath. "Like I'm forgetting something important. Every time I look at you, it feels like I'm supposed to remember."

 

He was so close now. I could smell his aftershave, that earthy-cedar wood warmth I used to fall asleep next to. His hand twitched by his side, like he wanted to touch me again but didn't know if he had the right.

 

He didn't.

 

But I wanted him to.

 

"Maybe you're just imagining it," I whispered, even though we both knew he wasn't.

 

He leaned in, not touching, not quite but his voice dipped to something more dangerous.

 

"Am I?"

 

Merlin. This wasn't fair.

 

"You should go," I said, breathless.

 

"I don't want to."

 

"You should," I said again, firmer now. "Before you say something you can't take back."

 

His eyes darkened. "What if I already have?"

 

That was it. That was the edge.

 

And I had to pull away.

 

I stepped back, the cloak slipping off my shoulders, falling to the stone floor with a soft sound.

 

He didn't reach for it. He didn't reach for me either. But his eyes stayed on mine, wide and aching, like he knew something had just ended or started and he had no idea which.

 

I turned and walked away.

 

Because if I stayed, I was going to let him kiss me.

 

And if he kissed me, I'd never survive it.

 

————————————————

 

*Sebastian's POV* 

 

The Quidditch pitch was soaked with mist by the time I touched back down, muscles burning from hours of drills. Imelda had pushed us hard, it was the final practice before the weekend match. My hands were blistered, thighs aching, and I couldn't stop grinning.

 

There was nothing like it flying flat-out, wind ripping past your ears, the world shrinking to just you, the sky, and the snitch.

 

But now I was coming down. Breathless, sweat-drenched, heart still pounding.

 

And she was the first thing that came to mind.

 

Alora Winters.

 

Of fucking course.

 

I shoved my broom over my shoulder, half-hoping the walk back would help clear my head. It didn't. Every step made it worse her face, her voice, the way she'd looked at me up in the Astronomy Tower, like I was a spell she didn't want to cast.

 

I should've kissed her.

 

I should've grabbed her waist and dragged her back in when she walked away.

 

But I hadn't.

 

And now I couldn't stop thinking about it.

 

I was rounding the corner by the greenhouses when fate, in all its smug brilliance, decided to stop fucking around.

 

Because there she was.

 

Alora.

 

Alone. In her uniform. Hair pinned back loosely, a book in one hand, wand in the other, like she'd just finished studying or trying to avoid Hector's nonsense again.

 

She didn't see me right away, she was too focused on whatever she was muttering under her breath. Her wand tip glowed faintly as she adjusted a charm on the page. Her brow furrowed, and then she looked up and froze.

 

I stopped, too.

 

For a second, neither of us said a word.

 

Her eyes dipped. Briefly. Too briefly to be innocent. They dragged down over my shirt which was soaked through, clinging to every line of muscle, smudged with grass stains and mud. My curls were still damp and plastered to my forehead, and I probably looked half-feral. 

 

She bit her lip and looked away.

 

Oh…Interesting.

 

"Studying," I said, voice rough from the cold air and sprint drills. "Or plotting?"

 

She startled slightly. "What?"

 

I nodded toward her book. "You've got your curse face on."

 

She rolled her eyes but didn't walk away. "It's Arithmancy."

 

"Same thing."

 

She huffed, but her lips twitched. Just barely.

 

God, I missed that sound.

 

We stood in silence again. And this time it wasn't awkward. It was dangerous. I took a step forward.

 

She didn't move.

 

"You disappeared after the Astronomy Tower," I said. "Didn't even let me finish."

 

"There was nothing else to say."

 

"I disagree."

 

My gaze dropped to her necklace, the same one she always wore. The one that glowed when I touched it. The one she practically ripped from view like it held ministry secrets.

 

"Still glowing?" I asked, casually.

 

Too casually.

 

Her hand immediately lifted, clutching the stone protectively through her shirt like she thought I might reach for it again.

 

"I told you," she said, quiet. "It's nothing."

 

"Right," I said. "A warming charm. Because we're all freezing in October."

 

"It's December."

 

"Even better."

 

She looked tired. Not the kind you sleep off, the kind that sinks into your bones. Her eyes were puffy, like she'd cried recently. Her expression guarded, worn down.

 

But even now — even at her worst — she was beautiful.

 

The worst part? She didn't even know it.I took another step, closing the distance. Her breath hitched.

 

"Don't look at me like that," she said, voice sharp.

 

"Like what?"

 

"Like you know me."

 

"I do know you."

 

"You don't."

 

I tilted my head. "I know you like to correct people's spells under your breath even if they don't hear you. I know you hate pumpkin juice but drink it anyway because everyone else does. I know you hate being touched when you're upset but crave it more than anything."

 

She swallowed.

 

"And I know," I said softly, "that you're pretending right now. Just like you were at the ball. Just like you are every time Hector puts his arm around you."

 

"Sebastian—"

 

"You flinch," I said. "Every time. You try to hide it. But I see it."

 

Her eyes shimmered. Not with tears. With fury. With heartbreak.

 

With something close to fear.

 

"Whatever this is," she said, "whatever you think you're seeing — it's not real."

 

I leaned in, just a little. "No? Then tell me to walk away."

 

She opened her mouth. Then closed it.

 

"Tell me, Alora."

 

She didn't.

 

The air between us pulsed electric, burning.

 

I reached up, brushing a damp curl from my forehead, trying to cool the heat in my chest. 

 

"You can't, can you?"

 

She looked at me then — really looked — and her voice came out low, breathless.

 

"You're a nightmare."

 

"Maybe," I said, smirking. "But I'm your favourite one."

 

Her cheeks flushed. Her fingers tightened around her wand. Her body leaned slightly toward me before she caught herself and pulled back.

 

I let her.

 

For now.

 

Because she was crumbling.

 

And I was going to be there when she shattered.

 

————————————————

 

I wasn't supposed to be up here.

 

Not technically.

 

But rules had never really meant much to me, not when something felt... off.

 

And lately?

 

Everything about Alora Winters had felt off.

 

I'd meant to take the long way to History of Magic  — avoid the main corridor, dodge Professor Sharp — but instead, my legs had carried me up the spiral staircase toward the Ravenclaw Tower.

 

No real reason. Just... instinct.

 

I told myself I'd turn back.

 

Then I saw her.

 

She was standing by one of the windows, half-shadowed by a statue of Rowena Ravenclaw, arms folded tightly over her chest.

 

Hair loose, eyes sharp. Wand tucked into the waistband of her skirt.

 

She looked like a portrait someone had forgotten to finish beautiful, tense, and somehow... wrong. She didn't see me at first. Her eyes were locked on the hallway beyond, like she was waiting for someone.

 

Which made sense.

 

This was Ravenclaw Tower, after all. And she was waiting outside it. I knew exactly who she was here for. And my stomach churned.

 

I stepped closer, not bothering to hide my footsteps. "We've got to stop meeting like this."

 

She jumped slightly, turning fast, wand halfway raised and then dropped it just as quickly when she saw me.

 

"Merlin's sake," she muttered, pressing a hand to her chest. "You scared me."

 

"Did I?" I said, smirking. "You don't usually flinch when you're caught doing something you shouldn't."

 

Her jaw tightened. "I'm not doing anything."

 

I let my eyes sweep the scene the quiet corridor, her very obvious placement outside someone else's common room, the fact that she hadn't even tried to walk away.

 

"No, of course not," I said lightly. "Just out for a scenic stroll in the Ravenclaw corridor before breakfast. Happens all the time."

 

She scowled, but didn't deny it. Silence stretched between us, thick with everything unsaid. And then I added, voice softening just enough,

 

“You okay?”

 

She blinked. Her expression faltered.

 

"Fine," she said.

 

Lie.

 

I took a step closer, and she didn't move.

 

"You look tired," I said, eyeing the shadows under her eyes. "Didn't sleep again?"

 

"I said I'm fine."

 

"And I said you look tired."

 

Her arms folded tighter. Defensive. But her voice came out lower this time. 

 

"Why are you here?"

 

I shrugged. "Could ask you the same."

 

She looked away. "Hector's bringing me notes. I missed Ancient Runes."

 

"Right," I said. "Hector."

 

Her eyes snapped back to mine, lips parting slightly. "Don't."

 

"I didn't say anything."

 

"You didn't have to."

 

I tilted my head. 

 

"You get like this every time someone mentions his name?"

 

She glared. I grinned.

 

It was like a dance push, pull, prod. And Merlin, I loved dancing with her.

 

I stepped closer. "I could walk you to class. If you're just standing here waiting."

 

"I'm not."

 

"Still," I said. "Offer stands."

 

She stared at me, confused, suspicious.

 

"I thought you didn't care," she said finally. "About me. About... any of this."

 

"I never said that."

 

"You didn't have to."

 

I looked at her carefully, really looked.

 

The necklace was there again. Slightly visible above her collar. It glowed faintly, barely noticeable to most. But I wasn't most.

 

I didn't reach for it this time, I just let my eyes linger.

 

"I care more than you think," I said quietly.

 

She went still. So still.

 

Then, like a switch flipped, she turned away from me entirely. 

 

"This is stupid."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because." She shook her head, pacing a few steps away. "You're messing with me. I can't— I don't know what you're doing, Sebastian, but I can't play this game."

 

I followed.

 

"I'm not playing."

 

She stopped walking. I nearly walked straight into her.

 

I hovered just behind her not touching, but close enough for her to feel the heat from my skin.

 

Her breath hitched. Again.

 

And softly, I said, "Tell me to leave."

 

She didn't.

 

Seconds passed. The air between us vibrated with something too sharp to name.

 

"Tell me," I whispered again.

 

Her voice was barely audible.

 

"I can't."

 

I exhaled through my nose, chest tight. "You never could."

 

She turned slowly, eyes wide, lips parted, and I swear to god I almost kissed her right there.

 

But I didn't.

 

Because just as I leaned in—

 

Footsteps.

 

Voices.

 

Hector's laugh echoing from around the corridor.

 

Alora jerked back like I'd lit her on fire.

 

I straightened, teeth clenched.

 

She glanced over her shoulder and I could see the switch in her, the way her spine stiffened, expression freezing into something false and polished.

 

"Sebastian, I—"

 

I didn't wait for her to finish.

 

"Don't worry," I said, masking everything with a smirk. "Wouldn't want lover boy getting the wrong idea."

 

Her eyes burned. With shame? With frustration? I couldn't tell.

 

Hector's voice was closer now.

 

So I stepped away, gave her one last glance, and said, "Offer still stands, Winters. Next time you need a walk to class..."

 

I let the sentence hang.

 

Then turned on my heel and disappeared before she could say a word.

 

————————————————

 

I was already late for dinner when I spotted her.

 

The corridor just past the greenhouses was usually empty this time of day students too busy scarfing down stew and treacle tart to linger by cold stone walls. But I heard something. A sound I couldn't place. Like... crying.

 

And then I saw her.

 

Alora.

 

Back turned, hunched slightly. Hands braced on the windowsill. Shoulders shaking.

 

My stomach dropped.

 

"Alora?" I said softly, taking a few cautious steps forward.

 

She tensed, wiped at her face, then turned quickly — too quickly.

 

Her eyes were red-rimmed, makeup smudged, lips trembling even though she was clearly trying to pull herself together.

 

I stopped in my tracks.

 

"Don't," she said instantly, holding up a hand. "Don't do that thing where you act like you care."

 

I blinked. "I do care."

 

She laughed, bitter. "Go away Sebastian"

 

I wanted to scream. Shake her. Tell her I had always been there, I was just buried under fog and potion and gaps I didn't understand. But instead, I said:

 

"No."

 

She scoffed and turned back to the window, spine stiff. "You're too late, Sebastian."

 

I walked up beside her, slow. Careful. 

 

"What happened?"

 

She didn't answer.

 

"Did someone say something to you?" I asked. "Was it Samantha? The girls?"

 

Silence.

 

Then a slight wince. Her arm moved, hand flying instinctively to the upper part of her side.

 

And something in me snapped.

 

"What was that?" I said sharply. "Are you hurt?"

 

"I'm fine."

 

She was not fine.

 

I took a step closer. "Let me see."

 

"No."

 

"Alora."

 

"No."

 

"I'm not asking," I said, voice low now. "Show me."

 

She didn't move.

 

So I reached out, gently not to touch, just to hover and watched as she flinched again, turning her body to shield her ribs.

 

That's when I knew. Someone had put their hands on her.

 

"Hector," I growled before I could stop myself. "It was him, wasn't it?"

 

She didn't answer.

 

I stepped closer again, jaw clenching so tight it hurt. 

 

"Did he hit you?"

 

Still no answer.

 

But the way her breath caught, the way her lip trembled, it told me everything I needed.

 

"He's been threatening you," I said slowly, pieces slotting into place. "That's why you've been distant. Is that why you’re with him?"

 

She looked at me then — really looked. And there was so much fear in her eyes it made my blood boil.

 

"You don't know what he's capable of," she whispered.

 

"I don't care."

 

"You should."

 

I stepped closer. Close enough to see the faint bruise beneath the fabric of her sleeve. My hand hovered above her arm.

 

"I will fucking kill him," I said through gritted teeth. "I swear to god, Alora—"

 

"I'm handling it."

 

"No, you're surviving it," I snapped. "There's a difference."

 

And then—

 

A soft footstep behind us.

 

"Sebastian."

 

I turned.

 

Ominis stood a few feet away, arms crossed, jaw locked so tight I thought he might explode.

 

He'd heard everything.

 

"Don't," Alora said quickly. "Please, Ominis—"

 

But he was already walking toward us.

 

His voice was cold. Measured. Terrifying in its calm.

 

"He hurt you?"

 

Alora didn't answer.

 

"I’ve heard enough," he said flatly. "He's laid hands on you?"

 

"Once," she said. "It wasn't—he said it was an accident."

 

"Was it?" Ominis asked.

 

She didn't reply.

 

Ominis nodded once, jaw ticking.

 

"I'll take care of it," he said, voice like ice.

 

Sebastian stepped forward. "We both will."

 

Ominis turned his head slightly toward me. 

 

"No. You stay with her."

 

"But—"

 

"I said stay."

 

He turned on his heel and walked off without another word.

 

And I knew, without a doubt, that something was about to go down.

 

————————————————

 

*Ominis' POV*

 

I told myself I wouldn't get involved.

 

That I'd give her space. Let her handle it. Let her come to me when she was ready.

 

But when I heard her crying, and Sebastian's voice tight with concern... when I caught the sickening scent of blood under her perfume... I knew I'd waited too long.

 

She didn't need comfort. She needed a reckoning.

 

And I knew exactly where to start.

 

I followed the familiar sound of Hector's arrogant stride echoing down the courtyard path — cocky, steady, like a boy who thinks the world will always step aside for him.

 

He didn't hear me coming. He never does. People like him rarely notice the quiet ones — especially when they're blind.

 

Big mistake.

 

"Hector."

 

My voice cracked through the night like a spell mid-cast.

 

His steps stopped. There was a pause, then "Gaunt," he greeted, too smooth, too casual. "Out for a stroll? Or did you get lost again?"

 

I didn't react. He was trying to bait me. He always did. It never worked.

 

"No," I said evenly. "I'm exactly where I meant to be."

 

There was a shift in the air between us. I could hear it in the way he turned — the scrape of his shoes, the small hitch in his breath. He wasn't expecting a confrontation.

 

Good.

 

"Bit late for you to be wandering, isn't it?" he said, voice light. "Didn't realise they let your kind roam around unsupervised after curfew."

 

I tilted my head. "Still recycling those lines? I thought us purebloods were supposed to be clever."

 

He didn't answer. I took a step closer, just enough to remind him I didn't need eyes to find him.

 

"I want to be perfectly clear," I said. "The threats you made to Alora about Sebastian, about Azkaban… they end tonight."

 

He stilled. That was all I needed.

 

"I heard everything," I continued quietly. "In the corridor. The alcove near the common room. You had her backed against a wall. Told her she had to choose between protecting him or saving herself. Told her she'd lose Hogwarts, her freedom, maybe her life if she so much as looked at him again."

 

Hector was silent. For once in his life, he had nothing to say.

 

"I've held my tongue," I said. "I gave you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it was just words. Maybe you'd back off."

 

I stepped forward.

 

"But then tonight I found her crying. Again. And I could smell the bruise."

 

A beat.

 

"She covered it. Lied about it. And do you know what that tells me, Fawley?"

 

Another step.

 

"It tells me she's terrified of you. That you've done far more damage than anyone even knows."

 

"She's dramatic," he said, finally. "She cries all the time these days. And she didn't say anything to you, did she? That's because she knows she's got no case."

 

"She didn't need to say anything," I snapped. "I heard it all."

 

"And what exactly are you planning to do about it, Gaunt?" he sneered. "Tell your daddy? Run off to the Headmaster and cry about your little friend being sad?"

 

I raised my wand.

 

"No," I said. "I'm going to remind you that just because I don't see the world the way you do doesn't mean I don't see through you."

 

He laughed. "Are you threatening me?"

 

"I'm promising you."

 

"Try me, then."

 

I didn't hesitate.

 

"Flipendo!"

 

He went flying backwards into the stone wall with a crack and a breathless grunt. Not enough to break anything. But enough to bruise. To humiliate.

 

He scrambled to his feet, fury bubbling in his breath.

 

"You're insane—!"

 

"I'm furious," I corrected. "You preyed on her guilt. You manipulated her into something she didn't want. And you threatened the one person she loves more than herself to do it."

 

He hissed. "If she told you that—"

 

"She didn't," I cut in. "She still thinks no one knows. You really think she'd admit it? She's doing all this to protect him. Even now."

 

I moved closer, voice like ice.

 

"I've watched her waste away trying to play perfect little girlfriend. I've listened to you mock him in front of her, knowing damn well you're the one holding the knife behind her back."

 

"I haven't laid a hand on her," he muttered, but it was a weak thing. Pathetic.

 

"You have," I growled. "Maybe not in a way that'll leave marks that last. But you've left them all the same."

 

There was a long silence. Only our breath in the cold air.

 

Then I said

 

"If you go near her again, if you so much as look at her the wrong way — I'll make sure you're dragged in front of every board, every council, every bloodline protection circle your family clings to and shown for what you really are."

 

He laughed under his breath. 

 

"You think anyone would take your word over mine?"

 

I smiled sharp and slow.

 

"They won't need mine. They'll have hers. And his. And hers. You think people aren't paying attention? That the 'Hogwarts Hero' has no allies?"

 

I leaned close enough he could smell the magic on my skin.

 

"My father has ears in places you can't even spell. And if you push me again, I'll open every single door to ruin your little family name."

 

He stepped back.

 

But I wasn't done.

 

"This is your last warning," I said. "Because the next time you put your hands on her — the next time you breathe a threat into her ear — I'll do more than knock you back."

 

My wand was still raised. Still steady.

 

"I'll destroy you."

 

Then I turned. Walked away. The air behind me thick with tension and silence.

 

And the ghost of one final truth:

 

I should've done this the first time.

 

But I was ready now.

 

Don't fuck with a Gaunt.

Chapter 40: Close enough to touch

The moment Ominis' footsteps disappeared down the corridor, the silence felt heavier. I didn't even have to look at Sebastian to know his eyes were on me — I could feel it, sharp and unrelenting, like he could see straight through the thin layer of composure I was clinging to.

 

"Let me see," he said quietly.

 

My grip on my ribs tightened. "See what?"

 

He gave me that look — the one that made it impossible to pretend I didn't know exactly what he meant. "Your wrist. Your side."

 

"It's fine," I lied.

 

"Don't do that." His voice was low, almost a growl. "Don't pretend you're not hurt."

 

I shook my head. "If I go to the hospital wing, they'll ask questions. And if they start asking questions—"

 

"I'm not talking about nurse Blainey." He stepped closer, and the air between us shifted. "I'm talking about me. Let me take a proper look."

 

Everything in me screamed to say no, to keep the distance, to keep the secret. But there was something in his voice — not just concern, but a kind of quiet insistence that felt impossible to argue with.

 

"Fine," I breathed.

 

He didn't give me the chance to change my mind. His hand pressed lightly to my back, steering me down the hall. The touch was too gentle to be controlling, but it still sent a wave of heat crawling up my spine. We stopped at an unused classroom. He shut the door behind us, and the moonlight spilling through the windows cast just enough light to outline the sharp angles of his face.

 

I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to sound indifferent. "Well? You've got me here."

 

"Yeah," he murmured, stepping closer until my hips brushed the desk behind me. "I do."

 

"Enjoying yourself?" I tried to keep my tone light, but it came out weaker than I intended.

 

"Not even a little." His hand found my arm, fingers brushing down to my wrist. I kept still as he turned it over in his palm. The bruise there was already deepening, and when his thumb traced its edge, my breath caught.

 

His gaze flicked up to mine, dark and unblinking. "This wasn't an accident."

 

I swallowed, but didn't answer. If I said Hector's name, I'd never get the words past the lump in my throat.

 

He didn't push. Not yet. "Lift your arm."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because I saw you holding your side earlier, and I'm not letting you walk out of here without knowing how bad it is."

 

I hesitated, then slowly raised my arm. He stepped in close, so close I could feel the warmth of him against me. His fingers skimmed my ribs, finding the tender spot easily. I flinched at the contact, not just from the pain but from the way his touch lingered — gentle, deliberate, like he wasn't just checking for injury but memorising me under his hands.

 

"You should've told me," he murmured, his voice lower now.

 

"And then what?" I asked, my own voice softer, shakier. "You'd go after him? Make it worse?"

 

"Maybe." His eyes didn't leave mine. "But at least I'd know."

 

The room seemed to shrink around us. My pulse thudded in my ears, each breath I took shallower than the last. I told myself to step back, to put space between us, but I didn't move.

 

He leaned in, close enough that I could feel his breath fan against my cheek. "You know I'd never hurt you, right?"

 

"I know." The words left me before I could stop them, and the way his expression shifted — something raw and unguarded flashing there — made my stomach twist.

 

For a second, the world narrowed to nothing but his eyes, the warmth of his hand against my ribs, the way his other hand hovered like it wanted to cup my face but didn't dare. It would be so easy to close the gap. Too easy.

 

But then Hector's voice crept into my head, low and venomous: If you go near him again, I'll make sure you both get expelled... or worse.

 

I stepped back, lowering my arm. "We should go."

 

His jaw tightened, but he let his hands fall away. "This isn't over," he said, and it wasn't a question.

 

I forced my eyes away from him as I reached for the door. "It never is with us." My voice was barely above a whisper.

 

I didn't wait for his reply. The air outside the classroom was colder, sharper, but it didn't stop the heat still curling low in my stomach.

 

And as I walked away, I hated — hated — how much of me wished I'd stayed.

 

—————————————

 

By the next afternoon, I could feel it — something in the air had shifted. It wasn't obvious to anyone else, but to me, it was like the castle itself was holding its breath.

 

When I saw Hector outside the library, I understood why.

 

He wasn't leaning against the wall in that self-satisfied, look at me way he usually did. His arms were folded too tightly, shoulders held high like he was bracing for a blow. His gaze wasn't slow or lazy; it was sharp, darting from one end of the hall to the other. And when it landed on me, the familiar smirk was nowhere to be seen.

 

Instead, he gave me a curt nod. "We need to talk."

 

My stomach knotted instantly. I scanned the hall for Ominis, for Sebastian — for anyone — but it was just us. "About what?"

 

He didn't answer. Just turned on his heel and started walking.

 

I followed, every footstep echoing louder than it should have in the empty corridor. He led me away from the busy areas, down two turns I'd never take without reason, until we reached a small, shadowed alcove near the north staircase — private, quiet.

 

When he finally stopped, he didn't look at me right away. He cracked his knuckles, ran a hand through his hair, and let out a slow, controlled exhale.

 

Something was off. The Hector I knew loved filling silences with his voice, using the sound to dominate the space. This silence felt calculated — like he was psyching himself up.

 

"I've been thinking," he said at last, his voice lower than usual. "This... arrangement of ours? It's not working anymore."

 

For a moment, I wondered if I'd misheard him. "Excuse me?"

 

He finally met my eyes. "I'm ending it."

 

I almost laughed. "What? You've suddenly decided to grow a conscience?"

 

A humourless scoff. "Don't flatter yourself, Winters. This isn't about you. It's about me. I don't waste my time on something that's turned into more trouble than it's worth."

 

I crossed my arms, masking the spike of relief that wanted to rush in. "Define 'trouble.'"

 

"People asking questions. Watching me. Watching us. Poking into things that aren't their concern." He said it sharply, but there was something underneath — a flicker of tension he couldn't hide.

 

"You're being watched," I said before I could stop myself.

 

His eyes flickered — a quick, unguarded flash of something almost like worry — then he looked away. "Doesn't matter. The point is, we're done."

 

Relief flooded me, dizzying and sharp. The weight I'd been carrying — his grip on my wrist, the fake smiles, the constant awareness of what he could do — loosened all at once. But tangled in that relief was suspicion.

 

Hector didn't end things. He controlled them. He manipulated them until they suited him again. This wasn't him letting go because he wanted to. This was him retreating. And retreats meant someone had forced his hand.

 

I didn't have to think long about who it might have been.

 

"Fine," I said evenly. "Then I guess this is goodbye."

 

His mouth twitched, not quite a smirk. "Don't sound so eager. You never know — maybe I'll change my mind."

 

The thought made my stomach turn. "Don't hold your breath."

 

I stepped past him, brushing his shoulder as I left. The air outside the alcove felt lighter, easier to breathe. My footsteps echoed on the flagstones, each one a deliberate step away from him.

 

For the first time in weeks, I felt something close to freedom. But I knew better than to believe it would last. Hector's fear wouldn't hold forever.

 

And when it faded, he'd come back.

 

—————————————

 

The day after Hector ended things, I woke up waiting for the catch.

 

Part of me expected to turn a corner and find him leaning there, smug as ever, acting like our conversation in the alcove hadn't happened. Another part of me expected a new threat, some reminder that he could still ruin me if he wanted to. But the hours passed, and... nothing.

 

Classes came and went in a blur. At meals, I sat with the girls, answering their questions with half-smiles and vague excuses. They didn't press too hard maybe they sensed that for once, I wasn't wearing armour, just holding the pieces together with string.

 

By the time evening rolled around, I'd almost convinced myself that this was my reprieve. Temporary or not, I was going to take it.

 

I left the common room after dinner, heading toward the long corridor that cut past the greenhouses. It was quieter there the kind of quiet where you could actually hear yourself think.

 

And then, of course, he was there.

 

Sebastian Sallow leant against the wall near the arched windows, arms folded, expression unreadable except for the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth. His hair was still damp from what I guessed was a shower after Quidditch practice, a few stray droplets catching in the low torchlight.

 

"I thought you'd be holed up in the common room," he said casually, like he'd just happened to be here. Which was a lie. Sebastian didn't just happen anywhere.

 

"I needed some air," I replied, keeping my pace steady.

 

He fell into step beside me. "Air's good. I hear it keeps you alive."

 

I rolled my eyes. "Fascinating observation."

 

We walked a few paces in silence before he spoke again. "So... no Hector tonight."

 

The way he said it made my chest tighten. "What's it to you?"

 

He shrugged, but there was a sharpness in his gaze that betrayed him. "Just making an observation. He's usually glued to your side. Looks like he's finally given you some space."

 

"Something like that," I said, keeping my tone neutral.

 

"That so?" he pressed, voice softer now. "Because I could swear I heard—" He stopped himself, studying me like he could read the rest on my face.

 

I forced a small laugh. "You think you know everything, don't you?"

 

"Not everything." His smirk deepened. "But I'm a quick study."

 

We reached the end of the corridor, and instead of turning toward the greenhouses, he leaned against the stone pillar, effectively blocking my path. "Tell me something, Winters, when's the last time you let anyone take care of you?"

 

The question caught me off guard. "What's that supposed to mean?"

 

"It means," he said, eyes flicking down to where my sleeve had shifted just enough to reveal the faint edge of a bruise, "you look like you could use it."

 

I tugged the fabric back into place instinctively, heat rushing to my cheeks. "I don't need your help, Sebastian."

 

"Maybe not. But you could want it."

 

He let the words hang there before pushing off the pillar. "Speaking of things you should want... Slytherin's got Ravenclaw this weekend. Big match."

 

I gave him a wary look. "And?"

 

"And you're going to be there."

 

I arched a brow. "Am I?"

 

"Yes." He said it like it wasn't a question. "Front row. Best seat in the stands."

 

I scoffed. "I don't have time for Quidditch right now. NEWTs are in a few months, and I'm already behind in—"

 

"NEWTs," he cut in, rolling his eyes. "You've been working yourself into the ground for weeks. You can spare two hours to watch me humiliate Ravenclaw."

 

I snorted. "Confident, aren't we?"

 

"Always." He grinned, stepping a little closer. "Besides, you used to come to every match. Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it."

 

"That was different."

 

"Why?" His tone was curious now, but underneath it was a quiet challenge.

 

I hesitated. "Because things were... simpler then."

 

Something flickered in his eyes — not confusion, but memory. 

 

"Yeah... like earlier this year. You were in the stands for that first match against Hufflepuff. I saw you." His mouth curved, almost smug. "Every time I glanced up, there you were — pretending you weren't watching me."

 

Heat crept up my neck. 

 

"Don't flatter yourself."

 

"Too late." His smirk deepened, but there was a glint behind it — a hint of something softer, something that made my chest ache. "Come to the match. Sit where you used to. I'll even wave at you before I catch the Snitch. Tradition."

 

I tried not to smile, but my lips betrayed me. 

 

"You're awfully sure you'll catch it."

 

"I'm the Seeker," he said, leaning in with a smirk. "Catching things is what I do."

 

The air between us shifted, warm and tense.

 

"Sebastian—" I started, but the words felt unsteady.

 

He tilted his head, gaze fixed on mine. "You don't have to talk about it. You don't have to tell me anything. Just..." His voice dropped, almost a whisper. "Be there."

 

I swallowed hard, torn between the part of me that wanted to keep every wall in place and the part that wanted — achingly — to let him tear them down.

 

For a long moment, we just stood there, the air charged enough to hum. And I knew, with bone-deep certainty, that this wasn't the end of whatever Sebastian had decided to start.

 

It was only the beginning.

 

—————————————

 

The chill bit at my cheeks as I crossed the grounds, the sky bruised with fading winter light. I hadn't meant to wander this far not really. I'd only been looking for... I don't even know. Space, maybe. Something that didn't smell like parchment and ink. Somewhere Hector wouldn't follow.

 

My boots crunched over frost-stiff grass. My hands stayed buried in the folds of my cloak, the wind threading through my hair like icy fingers. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, not exactly, but my legs carried me with a strange certainty over the sloping lawn, past the shadow of the greenhouses, and down toward the treeline.

 

The Forbidden Forest loomed, black branches laced like veins against the pale sky. Most students avoided it, especially in winter, but I didn't feel afraid. The quiet was heavier here, yes, but not threatening. If anything, it felt... familiar. My chest tightened, though I couldn't have said why.

 

I stepped over roots, listening to the crunch and snap beneath my boots. The deeper I went, the colder it grew, the dimmer the light. Still, I kept walking, my breath misting in front of me. I let my mind drift, the rhythm of my steps pulling me somewhere I couldn't name.

 

Until I saw it.

 

The clearing was almost exactly as it must have been the day it was set up, months ago. A small table with two chairs sat in the middle, their edges softened by moss and the faint shimmer of a Sticking Charm. Overhead, enchanted candles still floated lazily, their wax long since burned away but their light stubbornly flickering. A soft golden glow bathed the space, fragile against the shadowed trees.

 

I froze.

 

For a moment I couldn't breathe. My throat felt tight, my eyes stinging before I even realised I was crying. This wasn't just any clearing. This... this was where Sebastian had brought me. Our first date. The one that had surprised me so completely, that had made me laugh until my ribs hurt, that had left me giddy for days afterward.

 

The scene was faded now. Wild grass pushing through the dirt, a layer of leaves caught around the chair legs but it was still here. Unchanged. Untouched.

 

Like a memory stubbornly refusing to die.

 

I took a step closer, reaching out to run my fingertips over the back of the chair. Cold. Solid. Real.

 

God, I missed him.

 

I swallowed hard, forcing the lump in my throat down. But the ache in my chest didn't ease it only deepened.

 

A low, deliberate rustle broke the silence. My head snapped up. From the far edge of the clearing, something moved. The shadows shifted, too fluid for wind.

 

I caught a glimpse gleaming black, long legs bending at impossible angles.

 

Acromantula.

 

"Shit," I breathed.

 

It was small for its kind, but still the size of a dog. And it wasn't alone. Two more emerged from the darkness behind it, eyes glinting in the candlelight. My hand shot for my wand before my brain even caught up.

 

"Confringo!" The first spider reeled back, hissing as the spell hit its side. Another skittered toward me, faster than I expected, and I spun, casting again, the blast lighting up the trees in a brief, fiery flare.

 

I backed away, heart hammering. My heel caught on something—a root, a rock—and I stumbled. My shoulder clipped the table, sending one of the chairs toppling over. I swore, whipping my wand toward the third spider.

 

"Depulso!"

 

It flew back into the brush, but I'd already lost my footing completely. My legs tangled, gravity yanking me sideways toward the uneven ground at the edge of the clearing.

 

Only I didn't hit it.

 

A strong arm hooked around my waist, steadying me before I could crash into the dirt. My breath caught—half from the shock, half from the heat that flared where his hand pressed against me.

 

"I told you," a voice murmured at my ear, low and maddeningly calm. "I'm the Seeker. I catch things."

 

Sebastian.

 

I looked up, glaring even as my heart hammered. "I had it handled."

 

Sebastian's mouth curved in that infuriating half-smile, but his eyes flicked past me sharp, focused. "Not from where I was standing."

 

Before I could argue, he was moving, stepping in front of me and flicking his wand with casual precision. A jet of green light — not that one, but close enough to make my skin prickle — shot into one of the acromantulas, sending it crashing back into the trees. Another followed, then another, until the clearing was still again.

 

Snowflakes drifted lazily down between us. My breath fogged the air, quick from the adrenaline.

 

Sebastian turned back, his coat dusted with frost, hair mussed from the fight. "You're welcome."

 

I scoffed, brushing past him. "I didn't need saving."

 

"You're welcome," he repeated, following.

 

I ignored him, pushing further into the forest. The silence swallowed us again, save for the crunch of snow underfoot. My pulse was still too quick, but not from fear now not entirely.

 

The trees thinned again, and suddenly I was at the edge of a lake. The water was dark, still, reflecting the silver sliver of moon above. I sank onto a fallen log, my hands curling in my lap, the cold finally catching up to me.

 

Sebastian didn't say anything at first. He just stood there, watching me like he could see through every layer I'd built. Then, slowly, he sat beside me.

 

"You're freezing," he murmured, his gaze dropping to my hands.

 

"I'm fine," I lied.

 

He didn't buy it. His fingers brushed mine before taking both my hands in his, his touch warm and steady. I should have pulled away. I didn't.

 

"You've got terrible circulation," he said softly, rubbing slow circles over my knuckles, coaxing warmth back into my skin.

 

I watched his hands move over mine, felt the heat seeping in, and it was ridiculous how much harder it was to breathe.

 

"You're impossible," I muttered.

 

His thumbs kept moving over my knuckles, slow and patient, like he had all the time in the world to bring feeling back into me. It was ridiculous, the way warmth seeped up my arms and into my chest as if his hands knew a faster route than my blood did.

 

"Better?" he asked.

 

I nodded, though the answer lodged somewhere behind my ribs. "A little."

 

"Good." He didn't let go.

 

We sat like that for a while. The kind of quiet that isn't empty at all,

it's crowded with everything you're not saying. The lake was a mirror, dark and perfectly still; the forest breathed in long, slow exhales around us. Somewhere far off, something padded through snow and then went silent again.

 

"You followed me," I said at last, not a question.

 

"I saw you leave," he admitted, as if that was somehow less than following. "Figured the Forest wasn't where you meant to end up."

 

"And if it was?"

 

"Then I'd still be here."

 

I looked down at our hands. "You can't keep doing this."

 

"Doing what?"

 

"Appearing," I said, exasperation bleeding into something softer. "Catching me. Being... this."

 

His mouth edged toward a smile I didn't think he'd let win. "You say that like you don't want me to."

 

"I didn't say that."

 

He hummed, the sound short and low in his throat. He brought my hands closer to his mouth and blew a breath over my fingers — warm, a ghost of heat that made my pulse kick. It was nothing. It was everything.

 

"I'm fine," I said again, quieter now.

 

"I know." He lifted his gaze. "But I like making sure."

 

There was an honesty to it that left nowhere to hide. I tried anyway. "You don't have to... look after me."

 

"Maybe I don't." His grip softened, not loosening so much as gentling. "Maybe I want to."

 

A breeze picked up, sliding through the trees and across the water, and I felt it catch at the loose piece of hair by my cheek. He reached up without thinking and tucked it behind my ear, fingertips barely grazing my skin. The touch was so light I almost could've convinced myself I'd imagined it — except my whole body reacted like he'd struck flint.

 

"You're shaking," he murmured.

 

"It's cold."

 

"Mm." He didn't sound convinced. "And everything else?"

 

"Everything else is none of your concern."

 

"Liar."

 

I shot him a look, but the corners of my mouth betrayed me, threatening to lift. He saw it, of course he did — he always saw too much — and something eased in his shoulders, some tension I hadn't noticed until it let go.

 

"I didn't come out here to be rescued," I said.

 

"I didn't come out here to rescue you." He paused. "I came to make sure I wouldn't need to."

 

"That's the same thing."

 

"Not to me." His voice dipped, softer. "To me it means you decide first."

 

I hated how much that undid me. How much I wanted to lean into the space he was making and pretend the world outside didn't exist.

 

"Sebastian..."

 

He lifted one shoulder, a half-shrug. "You can tell me to go."

 

I could. The word lined up on my tongue and waited. It didn't move.

 

"Thought so," he said, and somehow managed not to sound smug about it.

 

We let the quiet settle again. I watched our hands because looking at his face felt like a risk I couldn't afford. My necklace warmed against my skin — a subtle pulse, there and gone — as if it were reacting to the heat between us. Reflex kicked in: I tugged the chain so the charm slipped back beneath the neckline of my dress, hidden.

 

His eyes flicked there. Just for a second. Curious. He didn't ask.

 

Instead, he ran his thumbs over my knuckles one more time and then, reluctantly, released me. The loss of contact was immediate and infuriating. I curled my fingers into fists to keep from reaching back.

 

"You're angry," he said.

 

"I'm a lot of things."

 

"At me," he clarified.

 

"That too." I pulled in a breath that felt sharp in my chest. "You can't keep showing up like you're—"

 

"Like I care?" he supplied.

 

I closed my eyes. "Yes."

 

"Alright." He shifted, turning toward me fully. "Then tell me how to show up the way you want."

 

I opened my eyes. "That's not fair."

 

"Neither is the way you look at me when you think I'm not watching."

 

Heat rose to my cheeks, traitorous and obvious. "You're imagining things."

 

"I wish I were."

 

The line hung between us, raw and unguarded. He didn't look away. I hated that I didn't either.

 

"You don't get it," I said finally. "There are... consequences."

 

"For being near me?" He laughed once, humorless. "I'm pretty used to those."

 

"For wanting you," I said before I could stop myself.

 

The words hit him; I saw it. Not a flinch — something deeper. His breath caught; his hand flexed against his knee like he was keeping himself from reaching for me again.

 

"Alora," he said, and it was my name like a secret. "If you think I haven't been drowning in that every day—"

 

"Don't." I lifted a hand, weak defense against something I couldn't bear to want and couldn't bear to refuse. "Don't say it."

 

He swallowed whatever it was and turned it into something gentler. "Then let me say this: you don't owe me anything. Not answers. Not explanations. Not forgiveness. But you do owe yourself a little peace."

 

"I don't know what that looks like anymore."

 

"This." He gestured to the lake, to the quiet, to the breath we were sharing. "For five minutes. Ten. Tonight. Tomorrow. We can start small."

 

"We?"

 

He smiled, soft and crooked. "I'm selfish. I want to be part of the bit that doesn't hurt."

 

A laugh escaped me — the kind that wasn't entirely happy but wasn't entirely broken either. It surprised both of us.

 

"There she is," he murmured, almost to himself.

 

"Who?"

 

"The girl who made me forget entire classes because I couldn't stop watching her laugh."

 

I shook my head, but the ache in my chest softened around the edges. "You're unbearable."

 

"And yet," he said again, and this time the smile reached his eyes, "you're still here."

 

We sat like that until the cold found its way through cloak and bone. A shiver wracked me; I tried to hide it and failed. He noticed, of course.

 

"Give me your hands," he said.

 

"I'm fine."

 

"Winters."

 

I sighed and held them out. He took them like a vow. His palms were warmer now, our bodies having carved out their own pocket of heat. He rubbed small circles into the pads of my thumbs, then slid his fingers between mine, lacing us together. The closeness should've been too much. Somehow it wasn't enough.

 

"Better?" he asked again.

 

"Yes," I admitted.

 

"Good."

 

He didn't let go. I didn't ask him to.

 

"Do you trust me?" he asked after a moment.

 

"I shouldn't."

 

"That's not what I asked."

 

The truth perched on the edge of my tongue, risky and bright. "Yes," I said. "I do."

 

Something in him loosened; I felt it more than saw it — a breath that went all the way down. He lifted our joined hands and pressed them, still laced, against the inside of his coat where the warmth held. The movement pulled us closer. The world narrowed.

 

"If I asked you to stand up, would you?" he said softly.

 

"Why?"

 

"Because you've been sitting in the cold for too long. And because if you stay here, I'm going to do something stupid."

 

My heart tripped. "Like what?"

 

He smiled without showing his teeth. "Let's not find out."

 

"Coward."

 

"Prudent," he countered, standing and tugging gently until I followed. He didn't drop my hand. "Walk with me."

 

We left the log, skirting the lake's edge. The trees thinned just enough for the sky to open — pale, washed moonlight pooling over snow, kissing the tips of branches. Our shoulders brushed every few steps. Once, twice, and then it felt like a rhythm.

 

"Does it still hurt?" he asked quietly.

 

"What?"

 

"Your ribs. Your wrist." He paused. "Your heart."

 

I swallowed. "Sometimes."

 

"Tell me when it does."

 

"And then what?"

 

"Then I'll hold it for a while."

 

I almost tripped over nothing. "You can't hold someone's heart."

 

"Watch me."

 

"You're impossible."

 

He squeezed my fingers. "I'm persistent."

 

We reached the shadow where the candles' glow from the clearing barely reached. The forest felt older here, less like a place and more like a memory you could wander into if you knew the way. My necklace warmed again — a thin, bright thread against my skin. He didn't look; he must have felt the shiver it drew down my spine.

 

"You're cold," he said.

 

"You said that already."

 

"I'm going to keep saying it until you let me fix it."

 

"And if I don't?"

 

"Then I'll stand here and be warm enough for both of us out of spite."

 

I huffed out another laugh. "That's not how warmth works."

 

"Bold of you to assume I play by the rules."

 

We stopped where the trees framed a narrow view back toward the clearing. From here, the old date looked like a dream someone forgot to wake up from — distant, golden, stubbornly alight. I felt his attention shift there and back to me.

 

"You found it," he said, softer now. Not a question.

 

"Yes."

 

"Did it help?"

 

"It hurt," I said honestly. "And helped. I think that's how it works."

 

"Yeah." His voice went distant for a beat. "I think so too."

 

He turned to me then, close enough that if I lifted onto my toes our mouths would be a breath apart. He didn't move. Neither did I. His eyes searched mine, not demanding, just... asking.

 

I could have. I wanted to. The want was a clean, bright ache that scared me less than it used to.

 

I folded instead — not away, but forward — pressing my forehead to his collarbone. His breath left him in a soft, unsteady sound as his arms slipped around me, careful, certain. The world simplified: fir and wool and boy, the steady push-pull of his chest against my cheek, his heartbeat answering mine.

 

We stood there until the cold remembered us. He leaned down, his mouth near my hair.

 

"I'll walk you back," he murmured.

 

"You don't have to."

 

"I know."

 

He eased back enough to look at me again, his hands still bracketing my elbows as if he didn't trust the night not to steal me. "Tomorrow," he said, half-plea, half-promise. "Breathe again. Here, somewhere else — I don't care. Just... don't stop."

 

"I'll try."

 

"That's all I'm asking."

 

We started back through the trees, our hands finding each other again like it was the most obvious thing in the world. We didn't speak. We didn't need to. The forest made room for us, the snow swallowed our steps, and for the first time in too long, the silence didn't feel like drowning.

 

It felt like air.

Chapter 41: Fever dream

I nearly turned back twice.

 

The December wind had teeth, and the path down to the pitch looked longer than I remembered. Students poured past in scarves and house colours, breath steaming, the low thunder of hundreds of voices rolling across the grounds. I told myself I was just getting air. Stretching my legs. If I reached the gates and the noise made my head pound, I could always turn around.

 

I didn't.

 

By the time I crested the last hill, the stands were already heaving banners snapping, enchanted flags rippling, a choir of boos and cheers rising in waves. The Slytherin section glowed emerald under a web of floating lanterns. Somewhere a vendor called about sugared almonds; somewhere else, a fourth year shrieked like the match had already been won and lost three times over.

 

I slipped up the stairs, a little breathless, tugging my scarf higher as if it could hide the fact I'd arrived late. Violet spotted me first—of course she did—half up on her seat, waving both arms like a human flag.

 

"Alora! Here—move, Noah—"

 

"I was here first," Noah complained, but shuffled anyway, dragging Ellis with him. Priscilla reached to grab my hand and pulled me into the pocket of warmth they'd made from coats and blankets.

 

"Thought you'd bail," she said, eyes bright, nose pink from the cold.

 

"I almost did," I admitted, and then the whistle cut the air clean in two.

 

The pitch exploded.

 

The trunk snapped, balls released like shot. A blur of blue and bronze tore one way, green and silver the other, and then the sky filled with bodies and broom bristles and speed. A Ravenclaw Chaser streaked for the centre hoops; Milo - Slytherin Beater swerved mean and elegant; and high above them was Sebastian.

 

He didn't so much rise as slice upward, head tipped, eyes scanning the shifting currents like the Snitch had written him a love letter and he was following the scent. The sight of him hit me like a spell: gloves fitted tight, hair windswept, jaw set in that infuriatingly determined way that always made my chest feel too small.

 

He turned his head one clean, precise movement and found me.

 

Immediately. Of course.

 

It was a glance. Barely a heartbeat. But it felt like being seen and set alight in the same second like he'd been flying only half-awake until he could confirm I was where I was supposed to be.

 

Violet's elbow dug into my ribs. 

 

"Oh, he saw you."

 

"He did not," I said too fast.

 

Priscilla hummed. "He absolutely did."

 

Out on the pitch, Imelda carved through the air like a blade, emerald ribbons streaming from her captain's arm. She barked something at a Chaser that I couldn't hear over the crowd; the girl corrected course instantly, feinting left before spiralling through two Ravenclaws and slamming the Quaffle toward the hoops. A clang, a roar, and Slytherin colours surged like a wave.

 

"GO ON, REYES!" someone bellowed behind us, and then Gareth materialised at our knees like a conjuration, arms loaded with sweets and a butterbeer tucked in his elbow.

 

Gryffindor scarf. In the Slytherin stand.

 

Violet gave him a look. "You're lost."

 

"I'm here to support my woman," Gareth said, perfectly serious, handing me a paper cone of honeycombs and dropping into the empty seat beside Priscilla like he belonged. "Plus, the view's better."

 

Ellis squinted at his scarf. "Mate."

 

Gareth shrugged and tugged a green ribbon out of his pocket, tying it around his wrist. "Compromise."

 

Noah snorted. "You're going to get hexed."

 

"From who?" Gareth's grin was all teeth. "The boyfriends? Oh wait—"

 

"Gareth," Priscilla hissed, but she was grinning too.

 

The crowd swelled, a sound you felt in your ribs. Imelda arrowed past our section and pointed sharp, imperious at a Ravenclaw Beater who'd strayed too far, then dove so fast my stomach dropped. Two Chasers met her at speed; they executed a tight triangle that made a cluster of second years behind us gasp. A flash of leather, a snap of wrist, and Slytherin scored again.

 

"Filthy," Violet breathed, delighted. "I love her."

 

"You and Weasley both," Ellis said.

 

Gareth cupped his hands, bellowing, 

 

"THAT'S MY GIRL, REYES!"

 

A seventh-year in Slytherin colours turned to stare. Gareth stared back, unbothered. 

 

"What? I'm supportive."

 

I tried to laugh, but the sound stuck because Sebastian was dropping no, plummeting past three players like gravity jumped when he told it to. His coat flared; his hand flattened to cut drag; his eyes were fixed on something I couldn't see, and every line of him said mine.

 

"Subtle," Violet muttered.

 

"He's going to kill me," I said under my breath, and Priscilla squeezed my arm like she didn't know whether to comfort me or shove me onto the pitch.

 

He levelled out at the last possible second, a breath off the turf, and skimmed along the pitch's edge so close to our stand I could see the curve of his mouth focused, a little wild. The wind tore at my scarf; the smell of cold air and broom polish hit as he streaked past; and when his head tilted that fraction sideways, there it was again—the look meant only for me.

 

Heat climbed my neck. I glued my eyes to the Quaffle like it was the most fascinating object in the world.

 

Noah leaned in. 

 

"So... you and Sallow—"

 

"No."

 

"You didn't let me finish."

 

"You didn't need to."

 

Ellis added "It's giving tension."

 

Priscilla chimed in "Positive or negative?"

 

Violet responded "Yes."

 

I aimed a honeycomb at Violet's head; she dodged and cackled. On the field, Ravenclaw rallied, threading a neat weave down the centre. For fifteen seconds blue and bronze dominated the sky; then Imelda's Beaters punished them so ruthlessly the stands winced for them in collective sympathy. The Quaffle turned over. The score climbed. I lost track of the numbers, too busy trying not to track one boy.

 

Gareth nudged my hand with a butterbeer. 

 

"Drink. You're vibrating."

 

"I'm fine," I lied, sipping anyway. The heat pooled behind my ribs and loosened something too tightly wound.

 

Benny Stokes’ voice carried over the pitch breathless and biased. "—and Reyes with another intercept, Merlin's beard, she's everywhere—Ravenclaw can't get comfortable—Beater Milov with the clean block—oh, and Sallow is moving, ladies and gents—he's seen something—"

 

My heart jerked. Sebastian climbed in a straight shot, cut right, then wrong-footed half the pitch by doubling back so hard a Ravenclaw Seeker swore loud enough to make the front rows giggle. A glint—just a whisper—caught the winter light above the Hufflepuff end.

 

He went.

 

The stands tilted with him, a thousand bodies leaning as if momentum could be shared. He tucked and dove, an arrow aimed at a shifting target; a Beater drifted into his path; he rolled, reckless and perfect, and laughter burst out of me before I could stop it.

 

Violet felt it. She shot me a sideways smile that said got you and looped her arm through mine.

 

"Don't," I warned.

 

"I'm not saying a word."

 

"Your whole face is screaming."

 

"YoUr wHoLe fAcE iS sCrEaMiNg."

 

"Girls," Priscilla said sweetly, "focus."

 

We tried. We failed. Because Sebastian flattened low again, so low I swore I could touch his trailing glove if I leaned, and reached hand steady, timing obscene, like he'd measured the air itself— He missed.

 

A collective ohhh rolled around the stadium. The Snitch juked, wicked little tease, and vanished back into glare. Sebastian pulled up hard, breath misting, eyes narrowed. He didn't look disappointed. He looked lit from the inside, every nerve tuned to pursuit.

 

He glanced at me again. Not long. Just enough for my stomach to do that drop thing I pretended I didn't adore.

 

"Obsessed," Violet whispered.

 

"Not," I said.

 

Gareth choked on a sweet. 

 

"You liar."

 

More plays. More howls. Ellis heckled a Ravenclaw Beater with such creative profanity the second-years in front of us took notes. Imelda owned the centre like she'd been born in the air, one hand flicking instructions I didn't need to hear to understand. The Slytherin Keeper blocked three in a row and kissed his broom; the stands lost their minds. Somewhere to our left, two first-years started a chant and were immediately drowned out by a seventh-year choir that actually knew the words.

 

"Do you ever miss this?" Priscilla asked softly, close enough that only I could hear. "Before everything got... complicated?"

 

I kept my gaze forward. "Sometimes."

 

"Feels like old times," she said, and her smile was gentle. "In a good way."

 

It did. For a handful of minutes, it did. My lungs remembered how to expand without hurting. The cold on my cheeks felt like a cure instead of a punishment. The pitch was a mess of speed and colour and strategy, and I could pretend very nearly that the rest of it didn't exist.

 

Then Sebastian broke left so abruptly that three Ravenclaws overshot and swore in unison. Benny yelped, "Sallow again—Merlin, the nerve on him—has he got it—has he—"

 

He didn't. Not yet. But the chase dragged across the sky like a sparkler trail, and every time he cut a corner too tight, I felt my hand clench around Violet's arm, and every time he straightened with that grin like he'd just robbed fate blind, something in me unclenched.

 

He saw me again. I should've looked away. I didn't.

 

He didn't smirk. Didn't wink. He just held my eyes for a heartbeat that felt indecent, then tipped his chin the barest degree ‘stay’ and rocketed back into the fray.

 

"Fine," I murmured, mostly to myself. "I'll stay."

 

"What was that?" Violet said.

 

"Nothing."

 

"Uh-huh."

 

Gareth hollered another frankly embarrassing encouragement to Imelda; she heard it (of course she did), blew him a kiss mid-turn, then stole the Quaffle and made an entire tier of Ravenclaws groan like they'd been hexed. Noah whooped until his voice cracked. Ellis thumped him on the back and told him to die quieter.

 

I warmed my hands around the butterbeer and let the noise wash through me, the way it used to. The way it should. When I lifted my gaze, Sebastian was a streak of dark green swallowing distance like it owed him money and then finally, the snitch was his. 

 

One second it was darting low under the south hoops, the next Sebastian's fist snapped shut around it—like it had been waiting for him all along. The stadium erupted, the air crackling with the sheer force of the cheers. He slowed his broom just enough to throw the Snitch into the air for everyone to see before tucking it under his arm. His hair was windswept, his jaw set in that determined grin that made him look dangerous and untouchable all at once.

 

The team swarmed him midair, brooms colliding in a chaotic knot. Imelda was shouting something at him that I couldn't hear over the crowd, but her arm was around his shoulders and his grin only widened. Around me, the stands became a storm—stamping feet, pounding fists, and the chant: Slytherin wins! Slytherin wins!

 

And then it began: Party tonight!

 

It started somewhere behind me, one drunken voice, but it spread like fire until the entire Slytherin section was vibrating with it.

 

"Oh, no," I muttered under my breath.

 

"Oh, yes," Violet replied, eyes glittering.

 

Priscilla was already tugging at my sleeve. "Come on, you're coming this time."

 

"I'm not," I said firmly.

 

"You are," Noah chimed in from the row behind us, leaning over the seat like it was settled.

 

They were still bickering when my eyes strayed back to the pitch—and just in time. Sebastian was doing a victory lap, slow and deliberate. When he passed our stand, his gaze flicked up. And landed on me. It was only for a heartbeat, but it was enough to jolt something in my chest. Then he angled away, cutting across the pitch with practiced ease.

 

The crowd spilled from the stands in a messy tide. Violet and Priscilla swept me along with them, chattering about who would smuggle what into the party. Noah and Gareth were already planning drinks. I, however, was counting the steps to freedom.

 

And then he appeared.

 

Sebastian walked out of the locker room corridor like he'd been dipped in victory and arrogance, his broom slung over one shoulder. His shirt was loose, his hair damp and curling at the edges, and there was the faint gleam of sweat still on his neck.

 

"You're coming to the party, right?" His voice was low, almost lazy, but it carried. He was walking straight toward me, ignoring the fact that there were people everywhere.

 

I shook my head. "I don't feel like partying."

 

"Come on," he coaxed, falling into step so close I caught the faint smell of soap and broom polish. 

 

"It'll be good for you."

 

"Maybe another time."

 

His mouth curved, not quite a smile, more like he was filing that away for later. 

 

"Well... if you change your mind, let me know."

 

I slipped past him before I could start second-guessing myself. My boots echoed against the stone of the quiet corridor, the roar of the stands fading behind me.

 

I'd just reached the side doors when footsteps pounded after me.

 

"You know what," Sebastian's voice called, a little breathless, "I don't feel like celebrating either."

 

I turned, startled, and there he was—hair falling into his eyes, broom still slung carelessly over his shoulder, grin tugging at his mouth like he couldn't help it.

 

"Parties are loud," he said, shrugging like it was a fact. "Too many people. Too much noise."

 

I narrowed my eyes. 

 

"You love parties."

 

He tilted his head, eyes warm and dark. 

 

"Maybe I'm making an exception."

 

"For what?"

 

"For you."

 

The way he said it—so casual, but the weight of it landed low in my stomach—had heat creeping up my neck. 

 

"Sebastian—"

 

"Why don't we go to the Undercroft instead?" he said smoothly. "Meet me there. Say... eight?"

 

I blinked. "I'm not meeting you—"

 

"Eight-thirty, then," he interrupted easily, like I'd already agreed. "You can't study all night, Alora. You'll start haunting the library."

 

My lips twitched. "I said no."

 

"You meant, 'try harder,'" he countered, eyes glinting like he could see right through me.

 

I rolled my eyes, but my steps slowed. He noticed—of course he noticed—and that was all the opening he needed.

 

"Fine," I said finally, pointing at him like I could somehow soften the blow. "But only for a little while."

 

His grin was wicked, victory curling across his mouth. 

 

"Eight-thirty. Don't be late."

 

I didn't answer. I just turned back toward the doors, but my pulse wouldn't settle. And the whole way back to the common room, I knew exactly why—because for the first time in weeks, I wanted the clock to move faster.

 

———————————————

 

The Undercroft had never looked like this.

 

It was always dim, secret, a hidden pocket of quiet carved under stone. But tonight... it felt intentional. Like someone had taken a breath and turned the whole place into a heartbeat.

 

Floating candles hung low, warm-gold and lazy, swaying with a draft I couldn't feel. A low fire burned in the grate and painted everything amber. On the table: two glasses, a small bottle of something dark and spiced, and a spread of little pastries and sugared nuts that had a kitchen elf’s careful hands written all over them. The air smelled like cinnamon, cloves, woodsmoke... and something sharper underneath I only ever noticed when Sebastian was close.

 

He was already there.

 

Not in uniform. Black, fitted long-sleeve tee that clung to his chest and forearms, sleeves shoved to his elbows. Dark trousers, a chain at his wrist I'd never seen before. Hair still a little wild from the match, like he'd pushed his hands through it and given up halfway. He turned at the sound of the door, and the look he gave me was enough to make me forget why I came.

 

"Right on time," he said, voice low and warm.

 

"I almost didn't come," I said, the iron gate shutting behind me. It sounded too loud, like a promise.

 

"You say that every time you're about to do something you want," he murmured, smiling like it was a private joke. "Jacket?"

 

I shrugged out of it slowly, heat crawling up my neck when his eyes traced the slide of the fabric. I hadn't exactly dressed for him. Black leggings, thick socks, and a cream jumper soft enough to sleep in. It slouched off one shoulder and refused to stay put, traitor that it was.

 

He took my jacket, brushed somewhere too close to my waist as he did, and hung it on the back of an old suit of armour like we weren't two people who should not be doing this.

 

"Drink?" He gestured to the bottle. "Tiddle called it mulled pear. Tastes better than it sounds."

 

"So we're drinking desserts now," I said almost sarcastic 

 

"We're drinking something that'll make your cheeks warm and your shoulders drop," he countered, pouring. "And we're doing it here, where no one can drag you into a party you don't want to be at."

 

He handed me a goblet, fingers ghosting mine just enough to send a stupid, electric shiver down my arm. I hated the way he always noticed those reactions and hated more how he never pretended he hadn't.

 

I took a cautious sip. Sweet. Spiced. Heat bloomed in my chest like a small explosion.

 

"See?" he said softly. "Better."

 

"Debatable," I tried, and failed, because a second sip slipped out of me like instinct.

 

We didn't sit at first. We hovered near the table, leaning into opposite corners, mirroring each other without meaning to. He asked about classes. I made a face at Potions. He smirked at that, the corner of his mouth doing that dangerous curl he probably wasn't aware of. We grazed topics like stones in a stream: Violet's latest dramatic retelling of a five-minute conversation, Priscilla hexing the sleeves off a boy who called her sweetheart, Noah's plan to make butterbeer "fancy" (it ended in fire).

 

"Imelda asked if she could adopt Gareth as a training Bludger," he added, mouth twitching.

 

I choked on a laugh. "He'd be flattered."

 

"Terrified," he corrected, then tilted his glass toward mine. "To nights that don't hurt."

 

The line landed lower than it should. I touched my goblet to his. Heat curled behind my ribs where the pear had already thawed something stubborn.

 

"Eat," he said, sliding a plate toward me. "Tiddle will be wounded if we don't."

 

"Is this your excuse for feeding me?"

 

"I don't need excuses," he said, voice velvet-dark. "I have intentions."

 

"And what are those?"

 

He looked at me for a beat too long. "To make sure you leave warmer than you arrived."

 

"That's vague."

 

"That's deliberate."

 

I took a bite just to have something to do with my mouth. He watched like he was committing the motion to memory. It should have been unnerving. It was... something else.

 

The phonograph on the shelf gave a soft click and then a slow-thrum beat threaded into the room, low enough to be a heartbeat, distant enough to be a secret. The candles swayed like they could hear it. Sebastian leaned back against the wall and stretched his arms overhead for a second—just a second—and I hated him a little when the hem of his shirt lifted and very nearly killed me.

 

"Sebastian."

 

"Yes?" He knew. He absolutely knew.

 

"Stop... stretching."

 

He dropped his arms, chastened in the way of a cat. 

 

"As you wish."

 

We sat. Not opposite. Not together. Adjacent, on the rug near the fire, backs against the same sofa so our shoulders almost touched. The music was a slow coil; the room felt like it had been dipped in honey and left to drip.

 

He poured more, watched my hands when I took the goblet, then pretended he hadn't. I shifted; my jumper slipped; his hand twitched like he wanted to fix it and didn't. The beat hummed. My pulse tried to keep up.

 

"You look... different like this," he said finally, eyes flicking over my shoulder, my hair. "Not school. Not... anything you wear for other people."

 

"For who, then?"

 

He swallowed. "Me, apparently."

 

It shouldn't have landed. It did. "Careful, Sallow. You'll start believing your own press."

 

He grinned, but it softened. "Never needed the press."

 

The quiet that followed wasn't empty. It was thick, threaded with a thousand unsaid things. I felt it when he turned his head toward me. I felt it when my eyes met his. Time did something strange: narrowed; lengthened; waited.

 

"Come here," he said, barely above a whisper.

 

"Where?"

 

He tipped his chin to the space between his knees. The audacity.

 

I held his gaze a second longer than was smart and then—slowly—shifted, turning to face him, kneeling on the rug between his bent legs. It should have felt ridiculous. It didn't. The fire kissed the side of his face orange; the candles threw his eyes in shadow and light. He rested his forearms on his knees, caging me in without touching me.

 

He didn't move. Neither did I. The music built like a secret telling itself.

 

"Tell me if you don't want this," he said.

 

"That's the problem," I breathed. "I do."

 

He swallowed hard like the words punched him. One of his hands lifted, slow, and cupped the side of my neck—thumb against the hinge of my jaw, palm warm, steady. The touch said stay. The rest of him waited for permission he already had.

 

And then he kissed me.

 

It wasn't slow, not really. It was careful like something precious being unwrapped for the second time and cherished because the first time went too fast. His mouth was warm and patient; mine opened like relief and something hungry. The first sound I made was embarrassing; he swallowed it and made one of his own in exchange, low and grateful.

 

His other hand found my waist, hovered, then settled like it had every right. I reached without thinking, fingers curling into the fabric at his shoulder. The kiss deepened because there was nowhere else for it to go. He tasted like spice and a little victory. I hated how much I loved it.

 

He broke just long enough to look at me—really look—and then went back like he'd changed his mind about needing oxygen. When his teeth caught my bottom lip, gentle and deliberate, heat flared so fast my head spun. My hands slid to the back of his neck, thumbs at the soft hairline, and he shivered.

 

"Alora," he said against my mouth, my name like a vow. "God."

 

I shifted closer, knees brushing his thighs, and the soft sound he made then went straight to my chest and lower. His hands, emboldened, skimmed up my sides, fingers learning the line of my ribs through the jumper, mapping like he planned to keep the route. He didn't grab. He didn't rush. He just... held. The restraint was a seduction all its own.

 

"Tell me to stop," he said, breathless, forehead resting against mine.

 

"Stop," I said, immediately lying.

 

He laughed, choked and happy. "Try again."

 

"Don't stop," I said, truth this time, and felt him smile against me like a sinner in a chapel.

 

We tipped, somehow, in a way that felt inevitable: me backward, him following, the was rug soft against my spine and the world narrowed to the weight and heat of him braced above. He didn't crush. He didn't crowd. He found that impossible space where I felt caged and free at once. His mouth traced my jaw, the hollow beneath my ear, the edge of my shoulder where the sweater slouched low—soft, soft, careful—like he knew exactly where the hurt was and refused to make more.

 

"Warmer now?" he murmured into my skin.

 

"Hate you," I whispered, arching into him when his hand slid under the hem of my jumper just enough to find bare heat at my waist.

 

"You don't," he said, smiling against me. "Tell me where to put my hands."

 

The room spun slow. "Everywhere."

 

He stilled, breath catching, and pressed his mouth to mine like gratitude. The next kiss was deeper. The one after that was greedy. He kept one hand safe at my waist and let the other trail lightning: up my side, down my hip, along my thigh. A soft sound escaped me and I felt him go heavier for a beat, as if his self-control misstepped and then found its footing again.

 

"Slow," he said, voice raw, like he was reminding himself, not me.

 

"I'm not fragile."

 

"I know," he said. "I'm not stupid. I still want to be... good with you."

 

Something cracked open at that—a sweetness that hurt. I dragged him closer just to hide from it, and he came like he'd been waiting his whole life to get that request. His hand slid up my back, under my jumper, his palm hot against my bare skin, and my breath stuttered.

 

"Alright?" he asked immediately, pulling back an inch, eyes searching.

 

"Sebastian," I said, impatient, and pulled him back down.

 

We kissed until the music became the only clock in the room. Until the candles burned lower and the fire popped like it was clapping for us. Until every nerve I had felt rewired to his mouth, his hands, the rough exhale he made when I scraped my nails lightly at the nape of his neck.

 

When he finally tore himself away, it wasn't because he wanted to. He stared at me like a man standing at the edge of a very pretty cliff and talking himself out of jumping.

 

"If we keep going," he said, voice shot to silk and gravel, "I'm not going to be noble about it."

 

I swallowed, dizzy. "Since when have you been noble?"

 

He laughed, wrecked. "I'm trying it on for size."

 

I reached up and smoothed a piece of hair off his forehead, my fingers shaking. He captured my hand, kissed the inside of my wrist like it was a habit he'd been dying to make, and then pressed our joined hands flat to his chest. His heartbeat beat hard against my palm.

 

"Stay," he said, softer. "Just—stay. We don't have to do anything except breathe. I want... this."

 

"Just this?" I teased, because if I didn't, I might say something too real.

 

"For now," he said, honest enough to knock the air out of me.

 

He tugged me up, settled us sideways on the rug, my back to his chest, his arm around my waist like a belt he had no intention of unbuckling. The music dimmed to a hum; the fire softened; the world shrank to warmth and the steadily slowing pace of our breaths finding each other.

 

"Closer," he said, ridiculous.

 

"I can't be closer."

 

"Doubtful," he murmured, and tightened his arm anyway until I felt the laugh in his chest and not just against it.

 

We didn't talk for a while. His fingers drew idle patterns at my hip; mine curled over his forearm, tracing the lines muscle made beneath fabric. When he did speak, it was quiet, like a secret you only told in a room underground.

 

"I'm glad you came."

 

"I almost didn't."

 

"I know," he said, a smile in it. "You always almost don't."

 

"What does that mean?"

 

"It means you like pretending you have a choice."

 

"And I don't?"

 

"You do," he said, kissing the crown of my head like it was obvious. "You chose this."

 

He was right. I hated how much I loved that he was right.

 

"Sebastian?"

 

"Mm?"

 

"If we do this... if we keep doing this... there are things I can't explain."

 

"You don't have to tonight," he said, no hesitation. "Tonight, you just... warm up."

 

I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding. He pulled the blanket from the sofa down over us, tucked it around my shoulders like he didn't trust the cold not to steal me. The candles guttered lower; the wireless whispered to itself; the room went heavy with the kind of silence you can sleep inside.

 

"Tell me to go," he said again, ritual-soft.

 

"I can't," I said, and meant it.

 

"Good," he breathed, lips at my hairline. "I'm terrible at leaving."

 

We lay there until the line between waking and sleep blurred. At some point I felt him press another kiss into my shoulder where the jumper had slipped again, reverent, unnecessary. At some point the beat in the phonograph fell away and left only the fire's slow applause. At some point my eyes closed.

 

If I dreamed, it was of hands like fire and a boy who had finally stopped pretending not to be obsessed.

 

And for the first time in months, the world was still long enough to feel simple.

Chapter 42: The space between us

The owl came just before dinner, tapping at the dorm door like it had rehearsed.

 

Violet didn't even look up from her eyeliner. 

 

"If that's another practice exam, I'm setting it on fire."

 

"It's not," I said, already knowing whose handwriting would be inside. No one else slanted their hand writing like they were leaning on it.

 

Winter stroll? Or hot chocolate? Your call.

— S.

 

No embellishments. No hearts or kisses. Just him pretending it wasn't an invitation at all.

 

"Go," Violet said, catching my reflection and grinning. "Wear the scarf that makes your eyes look illegal."

 

"I don't have illegal eyes," I muttered, but my fingers were already tying that exact scarf.

 

I put on my boots, gloves, and my good coat. By the time I made it down the steps, snow had started again—fine and steady, the kind that softened the whole world.

 

He was waiting at the bottom of the path, hands in his coat pockets, hair dark against the white. No tie. No uniform. He looked... easy. Like the cold didn't dare touch him.

 

"You came," he said, as if he'd never doubted it.

 

"You asked," I said, tucking my chin into my scarf.

 

We fell into step toward Hogsmeade. The castle's windows glowed behind us, the village's lamps ahead pooling honey on the snow. Our boots made that clean, satisfying crunch; our breath fogged the air. It smelled like cinnamon and wet wool and something sweet from the baker's.

 

"Stroll or hot chocolate?" he asked, bumping his shoulder into mine—light, testing.

 

"Both," I said, because I could.

 

His mouth tilted.

 

"Greedy. I approve."

 

The Three Broomsticks was a hive of steam and laughter. We found a corner table half hidden by a pillar, away from the worst of the noise. He ordered without asking—of course—two hot chocolates and something the barmaid called "winter cream," and slid one mug toward me when it arrived.

 

"For your circulation," he said, completely straight-faced.

 

"My circulation is fine."

 

"Lie," he said easily. "You get cold when you're thinking too hard."

 

I wrapped my fingers around the ceramic anyway. Heat seeped into my hands, then my wrists, then somewhere lower I pretended not to notice. Foam left a crescent on my lip; he didn't mention it, just reached across with a thumb and wiped it away like it was the most natural thing in the world. My brain shorted for a full second.

 

"Studying?" he asked, leaning back. "How's the NEWTs spiral?"

 

"I don't spiral."

 

"You schedule your spirals," he corrected. "Very efficiently."

 

I tried not to smile and failed. "It's fine. I'm revising Charms and Arithmancy. And not sleeping. You?"

 

"I wrote an essay I'm not going to read again." He took a sip, watching me over the rim. "Speaking of Charms—have you got your Patronus past thirty seconds yet?"

 

It was casual. Too casual. I blinked. "I... haven't worked on it since that lesson."

 

"Months ago," he said, like he'd been counting.

 

"I've been busy."

 

"With spiralling," he said, and when I kicked his ankle under the table he pretended it hurt. Then, softer, "I remember that lesson."

 

Professor Hecat's voice rose up in my head, sharp and encouraging, the whole room humming with nerves. Blue light. Laughter. The way everything had gone quiet when Sebastian's spell took shape.

 

"So do I," I said.

 

He watched me for a heartbeat. The noise of the pub went soft, like snow had blanketed it. "I never told you what I thought of," he said. "When I cast mine."

 

I hadn't asked. I'd wanted to. For months, the question had sat in the back of my throat like a spark I didn't dare breathe on. "No," I said, quiet. "You didn't."

 

He dragged his thumb through a loop of condensation on his glass as if he were choosing which truth to put on his tongue. "It wasn't something heroic," he said finally. "No cliffs at dawn. No trophies. Hecat said you can create a memory if you needed to—but I didn't. I already had one."

 

My heart did a stupid, traitorous thing. "Oh?"

 

"The party," he said, and I could feel heat crawl up my neck before he finished. "Spin the bottle. You looked at me like you were daring me not to. So I didn't." His mouth tipped, not smug now, just honest. "I kissed you, and absolutely nothing in my life felt as easy as that did."

 

I pretended my mug needed adjusting. 

 

"We were drunk."

 

"Not enough to forget," he said, soft. "But that wasn't the memory I used."

 

I looked up. He was already looking at me.

 

"It was the library," he said. "The day after. History of Magic. You were sat next to me. Your hair wasn't perfectly styled, you had Ink on your thumb. You were pretending to read the same paragraph for ten minutes while I said... nothing of any actual importance."

 

"You never do," I murmured.

 

He huffed a laugh. "And then you laughed anyway," he said, like the sentence was a secret he'd been keeping. "Not loud, just... like you forgot to be careful for a second. You looked up at me like you'd misplaced time. That's it. That's what I thought of. The sound of you deciding it was alright to be happy, for a breath."

 

The Abraxan had filled the room that day like a dawn no one deserved. I'd told myself it could've been anyone. It hadn't been. It had been that exact moment. That exact laugh. My face was too hot for December.

 

"Sebastian," I said, because I had to say something and because his name felt like a place to put my breath.

 

He shifted, elbows on the table, leaning in like we were the only two people in a village full of noise. 

 

"Do you want to know the worst part?" he asked, voice low, like he didn't mind if this ruined him. "I didn't need help with History of Magic. I'm top of the class. The 'study date' was just an excuse to sit on a chair that made my back hurt and make you laugh until Scribner glared at us."

 

I stared, and there it was, as stupid and simple as that: a boy admitting he'd orchestrated his own discomfort because it put him in my orbit for two hours. Something split in my chest and rearranged itself.

 

"You're ridiculous," I said, which wasn't the thing I meant.

 

He smiled like I'd said the right thing anyway. 

 

"Greedy, actually." His eyes flicked to my mouth and back up, slow enough to feel, quick enough to deny. "But I have good excuses."

 

"Those are not excuses."

 

"They're intentions." He nudged my mug with a finger. "Finish that. It's criminal to let it go cold."

 

I took the last few sips of my hot chocolate, the warmth pooling behind my ribs as I drank.

 

"I thought of that," he continued, voice low enough that only I could hear it over the noise. "Of you. Not kissing me. Not anything more. Just you, in that horrible jumper you wear when you're tired, looking up like you'd forgotten where you were. And the Abraxan came easy. Like my wand already knew the way."

 

Something in my chest went delicate and loud all at once.

 

"You didn't tell me," I said. It came out softer than I meant.

 

"You didn't ask," he said, and then, because he's him, "But you thought it. I could see you thinking it."

 

I didn't dignify that with a response. We sat in the small silence that opens when someone has told the truth and you're still looking at it. The window fogged; someone laughed too loud near the bar; my hands finally stopped shaking.

 

"Walk?" he asked after a moment, like he was offering a step down from a ledge.

 

"Yes," I said, grateful for the cold air waiting outside.

 

Hogsmeade had thinned while we were inside. We slipped back into a world muffled by snow, the lamps painting our breath gold. We didn't rush. He didn't talk. I didn't either. It was enough to hear the soft brush of his coat when we drifted closer on instinct, the crisp squeak of new snow under our boots.

 

"You should practice," he said eventually, gentler than any coach. "Hecat will murder you if you don't. Thirty seconds is easy once you stop overthinking it."

 

"I don't overthink."

 

"You weaponise thinking," he said. "It's admirable. It's also inconvenient."

 

We turned down a quieter lane, past shuttered shopfronts and the dark window of the bookshop. A wind slipped its fingers into my scarf and slid cold down my neck. I flinched.

 

"Hands," he said, and held his out—palm up, no theatrics.

 

"I'm fine," I lied reflexively.

 

"Alora," he said, in that maddeningly soft tone that undoes me in three letters.

 

I huffed, defeated by honesty and the weather, and slid my gloved hands into his. He curled his palms around mine and then, not content, tugged our joined hands inside his coat, against the heat of his chest. My breath caught. The thud of his heart was right there, steady and human and entirely too much.

 

"Better?" he asked.

 

"Yes," I said, because lying would've been ridiculous.

 

We walked like that for a while—stitched together by hands and a stolen pocket of warmth. Every now and then his thumb swept a crescent over my pulse, not checking, just... there. It felt obscene how safe it made me.

 

"Why invite me tonight?" I asked finally, staring at the way our boots made twin tracks.

 

He thought for a beat. 

 

"Because if I didn't, I was going to keep thinking about it until morning," he said, then added, quieter, "Since the Undercroft, I've been useless at not thinking about you."

 

"We didn't do anything in the Undercroft," I said, which was one way to describe almost setting each other on fire under a blanket.

 

"We breathed," he said. "It counts."

 

We reached the little stone bridge at the end of the village where the stream slid black under ice. He didn't let go when we stopped. Snow landed light in his hair and didn't melt. He looked at me like he was memorising, not measuring.

 

"Hecat said you could make a memory if you needed to," he said. "I like that she did. But if she hadn't... I still would've been fine."

 

"With the library?"

 

"With you," he said, unblinking. "Existing near me. Apparently that's enough."

 

I should've said something sensible. I should've pulled my hands back and wrapped my arms around myself and told him to stop making everything feel like a choice I wasn't capable of making. Instead I stood there and let him keep me warm and wondered if the quiet between our mouths had always been this loud.

 

"Don't kiss me," I whispered, because asking for the opposite would have been fatal.

 

He smiled like it hurt. "I wasn't going to."

 

"Liar."

 

"Always," he agreed, but he didn't move. He just stayed, holding the heat between us like a secret.

 

"Walk me back?" I asked, because if we stayed much longer, I'd do something I'd both regret and never recover from.

 

"Of course," he said and we turned toward the castle, our hands still tucked against his chest like we were smuggling a small, illegal sun.

 

He let go at the gates, slowly, like he couldn't quite remember how. The cold reached my fingers immediately, offended at being exiled. He noticed. He always noticed.

 

"Practice," he reminded, a teacher's ghost in his grin. "Thirty seconds. Next time I ask, I want you to lie convincingly."

 

"There's a next time?"

 

He tilted his head, a stupid, impossible half-bow that felt like a dare and a promise at once. 

 

"I'm very hard to get rid of."

 

"That's what I'm afraid of," I said, and the way he smiled at that made my knees feel untrustworthy.

 

"Goodnight, Alora."

 

"Goodnight," I said, and carried the weight of his honesty—and the warmth of his hands—all the way up the stairs like a secret.

 

——————————————

 

The December night air bit at my skin, sharp and bracing, the kind of cold that stole your breath if you lingered in it too long. Frost glittered faintly over the wooden decking of the boathouse, catching the weak light of the half-hidden moon. The lake stretched out in front of me, a vast black mirror broken only by the occasional ripple.

 

I sat near the edge, boots dangling just above the water, my hands curled around the necklace resting in my palm. Its metal was icy under my fingertips, the chain pooling between my fingers in familiar loops. I'd been holding it so long my knuckles ached, but I couldn't bring myself to put it away.

 

The engraving on the back was invisible in the dark, but I didn't need to see it — I could feel the grooves, could trace each letter by memory. My thumb moved over the words slowly, like they might shift or vanish if I let go.

 

The ritual from the book ran through my mind again, each step etched into me as sharply as the winter air. 

 

‘Place the relic beneath a full moon... recite 'Reserare Mea Memorias' three times... press the object to the forehead of the person whose memories you wish to restore...’

 

It sounded so simple. Almost easy. But the warning — the part about confusion, emotional distress, and changes in personality — was the part that lodged itself under my skin and wouldn't budge.

 

Would he still be himself after? Would he look at me like I'd betrayed him for keeping this from him for so long? The way he'd looked at Samantha when he found out about the love potion... That memory alone was enough to make my stomach knot.

 

I didn't even know if he'd want his memories back. But I knew I wanted him to have the choice and I hated myself for being too afraid to offer it.

 

Somewhere far off in the Forbidden Forest, something cracked a branch snapping under weight but it didn't startle me. The forest sounds had never bothered me. The only thing unsettling me right now was my own head.

 

The footsteps didn't reach me until they were close, crunching on frost-coated planks. I looked up just as Sebastian's voice cut through the night.

 

"What are you doing out here?" His tone was somewhere between curious and disbelieving, his breath curling white in the cold. "It's freezing."

 

I curled my fist around the necklace instinctively and slid it into my pocket before he got close enough to see it. "Just... needed some air," I said, forcing my voice to sound casual.

 

He stopped a few feet away, eyes scanning over me with that too-perceptive look of his. "Air's one thing, but you're shivering," he said, stepping forward. "You'll turn into an icicle if you sit here much longer."

 

"I'm fine." My gaze flicked to the water instead of him. "I had a warming charm on my necklace, but..." I patted my pocket lightly. "Guess it wore off."

 

He arched a brow that slight narrowing of his eyes that told me he was filing the comment away.

 

"Doesn't seem like you to forget something like that."

 

My chest tightened, and I shrugged. 

 

"Maybe I've got other things on my mind."

 

For a second, the space between us felt like it might snap. His eyes held mine longer than they should have, something unspoken hanging there  a question he wasn't asking out loud. Then, without warning, he stepped closer, his warmth seeping into my frozen skin.

 

"Come on," he said quietly, tilting his head toward the path. "I'll walk you back."

 

I hesitated before getting to my feet, my boots scraping softly on the frosted planks. We fell into step together, the cold making every breath feel heavier. He didn't say much as we climbed back toward the castle, but I could feel him thinking.

 

And maybe that was worse the silence filled with questions he wasn't voicing, and me with answers I wasn't ready to give.

 

When we reached the common room entrance, the warm flicker of the fireplace painted the stone walls gold. I moved to slip inside, but his voice stopped me.

 

"Alora."

 

I turned. He was leaning against the archway, his eyes narrowed — not angry, but searching. "That necklace," he said slowly, like tasting the words. "It means something to you."

 

My heartbeat jumped. "It was a gift," I replied quickly. Too quickly. "From someone a long time ago. It... keeps me warm."

 

He didn't look convinced. His gaze lingered on me for another moment, like he wanted to push, but then he straightened and stepped back. "Right," he said, the word soft but edged. "Get some rest."

 

I nodded, slipping past him before the heat in my face gave me away. But even as I headed toward my dorm, I could feel his eyes on me — and I knew the conversation wasn't over.

 

——————————————

 

I was just about to turn in for the night when the knock came.

 

A quiet, deliberate tap against my dorm door, too intentional to be someone stumbling past.

 

I sat up slowly, frowning. Violet was already out cold, her breathing deep and even, Priscilla had her back to me clearly asleep, and Imelda had snuck into Gareth's dorm for the night. But whoever it was, they were trying not to wake the others.

 

Another knock. Softer, but insistent.

 

I swung my legs out of bed, pulling on my robe as I crossed the cold floorboards. I cracked the door open just enough to see him.

 

Sebastian.

 

Leaning casually against the wall like he had all the time in the world, arms folded, hair mussed in a way that suggested trouble. His smirk grew the second he saw me.

 

"Come with me."

 

I blinked at him. "It's—" I glanced toward the dorm clock, "—Merlin's sake, Sebastian, it's nearly midnight."

 

"Exactly." His smirk tilted into something that could almost be called charming if I didn't know him better. "Prime adventure time."

 

I stared at him. "No. Whatever this is, the answer is no."

 

"Mm," he hummed, like I'd just challenged him. "There's someone I want you to meet."

 

I narrowed my eyes. "At midnight?"

 

"Best time," he said easily, shifting off the wall to stand in front of me. "Besides, you've been cooped up. When's the last time you snuck out for something fun?"

 

"That's not the point—"

 

"Winters," he cut in, lowering his voice, "just trust me."

 

That was the problem. I did. Against all better judgment, I stepped back and grabbed my slippers. "Fine. But if this ends in detention—"

 

"It won't," he said with the kind of certainty only Sebastian Sallow could pull off. "Promise."

 

We moved through the corridors like shadows, ducking into alcoves whenever we heard the shuffle of a prefect's boots. He was maddeningly good at this — clearly no stranger to sneaking around.

 

"Are you ever going to tell me where we're going?" I whispered.

 

"You'll see."

 

Down a staircase I'd never bothered with, through a dimly lit corridor, and then we stopped before a massive painting of a fruit bowl. Without explanation, Sebastian reached up and tickled a painted pear.

 

It giggled. Actually giggled.

 

The pear wriggled under his fingers until the whole painting swung forward, revealing a warm golden glow.

 

The Hogwarts kitchens.

 

The air hit me first — a rush of heat and the smell of baked bread, roasted meat, and something sugary. House-elves bustled between counters, copper pots glinting overhead.

 

"Sebastian Sallow!" A high, bright voice squeaked. I looked down to see the tiniest elf I'd ever seen standing at my feet, wearing a crisp white tea-towel like it was formal attire. She beamed up at me. "Ohhh, is this her? Miss Winters? Oh, Tiddle's been waiting to meet you!"

 

I blinked. "You've... heard of me?"

 

Tiddle's ears flapped with excitement. "He talks about you all the time! Says you are very stubborn and very smart."

 

I turned my head slowly toward Sebastian. He only shrugged, feigning innocence, though the faint flush in his cheeks betrayed him. "Tiddle's dramatic."

 

"Tiddle is truthful," the elf insisted before pointing toward an empty table. "Sit! Sit! I will make something special for Miss Winters, yes?"

 

Before I could protest, she had vanished into the flurry of elves, giving sharp little orders like a general on the battlefield.

 

By the time we sat, the table had transformed into a small feast. Plates of roast chicken, creamy mashed potatoes, honey glazed carrots, warm rolls, and the richest gravy I'd ever seen steamed invitingly between us.

 

Sebastian nudged a plate toward me. "You haven't eaten all day."

 

I froze halfway through sitting down. "You've been keeping track of that?"

 

He met my gaze steadily, leaning back in his chair with that maddening calm. "I notice things."

 

The words sat there for a moment, heavier than they should've been. I tore my eyes away first, muttering, "Well. Thank you for... noticing, I suppose."

 

We ate in silence for a while, the quiet clink of cutlery mixing with the faint hiss of ovens and the hum of house-elves at work. The warmth of the kitchen made it feel... safe. Not like the castle corridors, where whispers followed you, or the Great Hall, where every glance felt loaded.

 

Tiddle herself reappeared midway, setting down a tray of treacle tarts and thick slices of chocolate cake that looked sinful. "Dessert!" she announced, eyes shining. "Tiddle knows Sebastian likes chocolate."

 

"She also knows Sebastian shares," he said with a smirk, cutting a generous slice and sliding it onto my plate.

 

I rolled my eyes but took a forkful anyway. Sweet Merlin. It was heaven. The richness melted on my tongue, and I must've made some kind of noise because when I looked up, Sebastian's lips were curved in a slow, knowing smile.

 

"What?" I asked, cheeks heating.

 

"You've got—" He gestured vaguely toward his own mouth.

 

I reached for a napkin, but before I could use it, he leaned forward, close enough that I caught the faint scent of soap and something darker — leather, maybe — and swiped his thumb across my bottom lip.

 

The touch was brief, but it left a spark that made my breath hitch.

 

"There," he murmured, leaning back like it was nothing. His eyes, however, didn't match the casual tone.

 

I forced my focus back to the cake. "Why are we really here?"

 

His smirk softened, turning almost serious. "Because you haven't been looking after yourself. And I thought maybe you'd let me help."

 

Something in my chest tightened, unsteady and warm all at once. I hated that he could still do this make me feel seen, cared for, and completely off-balance in the same breath.

 

I lowered my gaze to the plate, my voice quieter now. "...Thank you."

 

His reply was softer still. "Anytime."

 

By the time we finally left the kitchens, the castle was utterly still. The corridors felt different at night — darker, quieter, like the shadows themselves were listening.

 

Sebastian walked beside me, hands tucked into his pockets, pace slow. The air between us felt... loaded. Not uncomfortable, but heavier than casual.

 

When we reached the Slytherin common room, the fire inside was still burning low, casting gold across the dark green walls. A few embers popped quietly, the only sound in the otherwise empty space.

 

I paused, expecting him to say goodnight and head to his dorm. Instead, he lingered.

 

"Well," I started, awkwardly tugging my robe tighter, "thank you for the... kidnapping."

 

His lips tilted. "You enjoyed it."

 

I opened my mouth to deny it but stopped when he stepped a little closer. The low firelight caught the angles of his face, turning his eyes molten.

 

For a long, dangerous moment, neither of us moved.

 

Then his gaze dropped briefly to my mouth.

 

My pulse jumped.

 

He leaned in, just enough that I caught the faintest brush of warmth from his breath. My heart was a wild, ridiculous thing in my chest. All I'd have to do was close that last inch and—

 

He stopped.

 

Just barely, but enough. His eyes flicked up to mine again, and the corner of his mouth curved. 

 

"Goodnight, Winters."

 

And before I could recover, he turned and walked toward the boys' dorm staircase, leaving me standing there in the firelight, wondering what on earth had just happened.

Chapter 43: Through the glass

The corridor had no beginning.

 

I was simply there—standing barefoot on cold stone, breath fogging the air, with torches burning low in brackets that threw more shadow than light. The passage went on forever in both directions, a spine of darkness lined with mirrors that rose from the floor to the ceiling. Each frame was ornate—curled metal and carved ivy—and each pane of glass looked like still water held upright.

 

My footsteps echoed wrong. A half beat late. Too hollow, like the sound belonged to someone else.

 

I took a step toward the nearest mirror and my reflection took two, catching up with a tiny stutter I felt in my teeth. Me—same hair, same mouth, same scarf draped at my throat. Except my eyes were... brighter. A fraction too bright. Candle-flame bright.

 

"Hello?" I heard myself say, and the corridor swallowed the word whole.

 

In the next mirror, I was turned an inch too far, as if I'd moved without moving. In the one after that, a strand of hair fell the wrong way. The differences were nothing. The differences were everything. I looked down to reassure myself—same hands, same rings, the faint shimmer of my necklace where it lay against my skin—and when I glanced back up, my reflection was a fraction of a second late again.

 

"Stop it," I muttered. I wasn't sure whether I meant the glass or my own pulse.

 

I walked. I don't know how long. The corridor didn't end; it just repeated itself in new wrongnesses. A tiny smear of blue light on the edge of my mouth in one mirror—Ancient Magic residue like a bruise I couldn't scrub off. The faintest shadow under my eyes in the next. Then a smile, but not mine—too slow, too knowing. I didn't smile. I didn't.

 

"Alora."

 

I spun. No one behind me. The voice had come from ahead—or from everywhere. It sounded like Sebastian for a second. Then like my mother. Then like me.

 

I kept moving.

 

The mirrors began to hold more than me. In one, there was a bed behind my shoulder: Feldcroft's thin mattress, Anne propped on pillows, smiling with a mouth that trembled.

 

"I knew you'd find a way," she said in the glass, and my reflected hands lit up with soft blue. The warmth flooded my chest—the memory I never touched—but then her smile slid off her face like wax.

 

"Stop," she whispered. The glow in my palms brightened to blinding. The mirror fogged with heat. I stumbled away, shoulder slamming the opposite frame.

 

"Not real," I told myself, but my voice shook.

 

Another frame. Another not-me. Ominis stood just behind my reflection's shoulder in this one, turned away, his profile carved from patience and disappointment.

 

"We choose what we become," he said to the glass. He didn't turn his head. He didn't look at me.

 

"You chose."

 

I flinched.

 

"That's not fair."

 

The corridor breathed, cold and long. The next mirror was empty.

 

Not empty—wrong. The glass was dark, and when I lifted my hand, it lifted too, but the fingers were charred at the tips, black spreading down the knuckles like spilled ink. The eyes in that face were too wide, irises eating the whites, and as I watched, a smile cut itself across my mouth—wide, wrong—without moving the muscles in my cheeks.

 

Boggart. The word arrived like ice under my ribs. Months ago, screaming laughter in the Defense classroom, the wardrobe swinging open. Everyone else's fear wore masks—spiders, banshees, a professor's rage. Mine had been simpler. Me, if someone turned the light inside out.

 

"Go away," I whispered. The wrong-smile held.

 

"Go away," the reflection repeated, but the voice didn't match—it sounded like it had been dragged up from a well.

 

I backed up. The mirrors on either side of it shivered in their frames. In the one to my left, Solomon Sallow stepped into view, eyes relentless. 

 

"You don't know what you're playing with," he said, and the floor tipped under my feet, memory and nightmare sliding over each other like ice.

 

"I wasn't playing," I said, to glass, to myself.

 

"He knows," said a chorus I couldn't place. Hundreds of whispers layered until the words braided and split. "He will know. He will know."

 

"Stop," I snapped, louder than I meant to. My voice bounced off the stone and came back thinner, like the corridor had eaten it and spat out a copy.

 

The reflection that looked like me—almost—tilted her head.

 

"You always think you're the hero in the story," she said conversationally, my voice rolled in silk and ash. "It must be exhausting."

 

"I never—" My breath fogged and vanished. "I never thought—"

 

"You did," she said, and smiled the not-smile again. "It felt good, didn't it? All that power in your hands? Warm like honey. Sweet as a lie."

 

I looked down at my hands. They were clean. When I looked up, the reflection's were glowing, blue crawling under the skin like lightning trapped in veins.

 

"Shut up," I said, but it came out thin.

 

From the mirror two frames down, Anne stepped forward, alive and flushed with fever, hair stuck to her temples. She was so vivid my stomach lurched.

 

"You were supposed to save me," she said, and for a heartbeat she looked fifteen again, freckled and grinning and holding Sebastian's hand in the orchard. Then her eyes filmed over with glass. 

 

"You promised."

 

"No," I said, because arguing with dreams is reasonable. "I didn't promise—I tried—I was trying—"

 

"Try harder," hissed the corridor.

 

I slammed my palm into the nearest mirror. The glass didn't break; it rippled under my hand like water, cold swallowing my skin up to the wrist. When I yanked back, my fingers were wet and the moisture steamed in the air like breath.

 

The boggart-me leaned closer in her pane, breath frosting the inside.

 

" You're already me," she whispered. "You just haven't had the courage to admit it."

 

I turned so fast my heel skidded. My shoulder clipped another frame and this one shattered—real sound, high and bright, raining down across my bare toes. The shards didn't drop. They hung midair, spinning slowly, each piece catching a different version of me.

 

"Monster," said someone from a shard near my knee.

 

The word lodged under my ribs like shrapnel. I lifted my gaze. Shard after shard turned, flashing faces—Anne, grey-lipped and still; my mother, hands gentle and useless; Solomon; Ranrok's laugh caught in metal; Professor Hecat's mouth a hard line; Violet's eyes soft with pity; Ominis' turned profile; Gareth's grin flickering out like a candle in a draught.

 

"Monster," they said, one after another, out of order, out of time. "Monster."

 

"No," I said, and the shards spun faster. "No."

 

A new reflection caught—Sebastian, in the doorway of a mirror three frames down. He was as I knew him now—older, jaw sharper, eyes dark and steady. He didn't speak. He just looked at me as if he'd been looking for a long time and had finally decided what he'd found.

 

"Sebastian," I said, relief like a mistake. I moved toward him and he didn't move toward me.

 

He lifted his wand, not at me but towards the mirror's ceiling, as if to cast light. He didn't. He just held it there, and when he finally opened his mouth, the word fell out like a truth I'd been carrying for years.

 

"Monster."

 

I stumbled back hard enough to knock into another frame. The boggart-me laughed—my laugh, wrong-pitched, full of teeth.

 

"All that Ancient Magic," she purred, "and you still can't fix what you broke."

 

"I didn't mean—"

 

"Intent doesn't change consequences," she said brightly, like a tutor pleased I'd finally arrived at the right answer. 

 

"Anne is still dead."

 

The corridor bent. The mirrors bowed inward like ribs closing. I couldn't breathe. I pressed my palms to the glass on either side of me and both were warm as skin. I was boxed by myself.

 

"Look for the monsters," my mother's voice said from somewhere behind me, from under a bed, from the seam of the door. "Check the corners. Check the wardrobe. Check under the stairs."

 

"I'm looking," I choked.

 

I squeezed my eyes shut. When I opened them, all the reflections had arranged themselves in a straight line—hundreds of me, each one a step worse: eyes a little wrong, smile a little wider, hands a little brighter until at the far, far end the last Alora's veins were rivers of light and her teeth were molten and she was beautiful and terrible and familiar in the way drowning feels familiar once you stop fighting it.

 

She lifted her hand. I lifted mine. For a second, the urge to press my palm to the glass was so strong I swayed toward it.

 

"Don't," someone whispered. My voice? Violet's? Ominis'? It didn't matter. The corridor flexed, a muscle clenching. I jerked back.

 

The boggart-me cocked her head, eyes soft with pity.

 

"You don't need help becoming me," she said. "You already are."

 

I reached for my wand and found nothing. I reached for my necklace and felt heat against my palm, scorching. The metal burned like a brand and the smell of it—hot, sweet, wrong—filled my mouth like a taste I'd never get rid of.

 

"Stop," I begged, I think to the corridor, I think to myself.

 

The mirrors inhaled.

 

I was in my dorm.

 

Or, at least... it looked like my dorm.

 

The flickering light from the fireplace stretched shadows up the stone walls, making everything feel wrong. My bed was there, the same green drapes and silver trim, but the mirror on the far wall—the one Violet had begged us all to chip in for—wasn't reflecting me.

 

Not really.

 

The thing in the glass looked like me, but her face was paler, her eyes hollow, her lips curling in something halfway between a sneer and a smile. My hair hung limp, darkened by something thick and wet. Blood? No—Ancient Magic. That swirling blue-white glow clung to her like it was alive.

 

She stepped forward in the reflection, but my body stayed rooted where I stood.

 

"Monster," she whispered.

 

I blinked. "What?"

 

Her hands slammed against the glass from the inside, and the mirror cracked down the middle with a shriek. Shards fell away, and suddenly it wasn't my reflection looking back—it was Anne.

 

Pale. Still. Eyes fixed in that same awful way I'd last seen them.

 

"I didn't mean to," I gasped, but she didn't move. Didn't blink.

 

"You killed me," she said, but her voice wasn't her own—it was Sebastian's, sharp and accusing. 

 

"And you expect me to love you?"

 

The mirror shattered completely, and suddenly I was falling through it—

 

"Alora!"

 

The sound was faint at first, but then hands were on me. Shaking me. My name being called over and over again.

 

"She's burning up!" That was Violet.

 

"She's not waking—Imelda, get her other arm!"

 

The darkness tore away in ragged pieces, but my body wouldn't obey. Sweat clung to my skin, my breathing came in shallow bursts. My hands were clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palms.

 

"Priscilla—blankets, now!"

 

Then the cold air hit as they hauled me out of bed, Imelda muttering every swear word under the sun as they half-carried, half-dragged me through the corridors. My feet barely touched the floor.

 

I didn't fully come back to myself until the crisp, medicinal air of the hospital wing hit my lungs. They lowered me onto one of the beds, and I felt the cool touch of a damp cloth against my forehead.

 

Somewhere, distantly, I heard Violet explaining to Madam Blainey that they'd found me screaming in my sleep, drenched in sweat, impossible to wake. The words made me want to disappear into the mattress.

 

I don't know how long I slept after that, but when I finally blinked awake, the room was dim.

 

And Sebastian was sitting beside my bed.

 

His elbows rested on his knees, his hands clasped loosely, but his gaze was fixed entirely on me. Not in that playful, infuriating way—this was sharper. Careful. His jaw ticked once before he spoke.

 

"You scared the hell out of your roommates."

 

My voice was barely a whisper. 

 

"They told you?"

 

He shook his head slowly. 

 

"Noah saw them rushing you here. Said you looked—" He stopped himself, eyes dropping briefly to the floor. "I had to make sure you were alright."

 

I shifted, trying to sit up, but the ache in my chest made me wince. His hand shot out instantly to steady me, warm and steady against my arm.

 

"I'm fine," I murmured, though even I didn't believe it.

 

"You were screaming," he said flatly. "Whatever that was, it wasn't fine."

 

The heat in my cheeks had nothing to do with fever. 

 

"It was just a nightmare."

 

His eyes narrowed, reading me too easily. 

 

"The kind of nightmare that leaves you burning up and thrashing hard enough to bruise yourself?"

 

I swallowed, the image of the mirror—her—still lingering at the edges of my mind. 

 

"You wouldn't understand."

 

"Try me."

 

There it was that stubborn edge in his voice that meant he wasn't going to let this go. His thumb brushed absently against my arm where he still held it, almost like he didn't notice.

 

"It's nothing," I whispered again, softer this time, because if I let it spill—if I let him see the things I saw he'd look at me the same way the reflection had. Like I was a stranger. Like I was dangerous.

 

For a moment, neither of us moved. Then he leaned back in the chair, studying me like I was some unsolvable puzzle.

 

"You had me worried, Winters," he said finally, voice low. "Don't do that again."

 

I managed a faint, tired smile. 

 

"I'll try not to."

 

But we both knew I couldn't promise that.

 

———————————————

 

The soft creak of the hospital wing doors pulled me from my thoughts. I glanced up from where I sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed, my bag at my feet.

 

Sebastian stepped inside like he owned the place—broad-shouldered and effortlessly casual, hair still slightly tousled from Merlin-knows-what he'd been doing all morning. He didn't speak right away, just gave me a once-over, his eyes narrowing the tiniest bit, like he was checking for damage.

 

"Ready to go?" he asked, voice low, almost careful.

 

Before I could answer, the nurse bustled over, holding a small glass vial of calming draught. 

 

"One last dose before you leave," she said, her tone brisk but not unkind. "Your friends tell me this isn't the first time something like this has happened, Miss Winters. Do you suffer from regular night terrors?"

 

I froze for half a second before forcing my voice steady. 

 

"I haven't... experienced one in a while," I said, which was true, though it sounded feeble under her scrutiny.

 

"Still," she pressed, "it might do you some good to speak with the school counsellor. These things can stem from deeper issues you might not even be aware of."

 

"Absolutely not," I muttered, a sharp finality in my tone.

 

Out of the corner of my eye, I could feel Sebastian's gaze on me—steady, unreadable. He didn't say anything, but the quiet there was heavy.

 

The nurse tutted, handed me the draught, and I downed it quickly, the faint bitterness clinging to my tongue.

 

"Try to get some rest," she said as she waved us off.

 

Sebastian stayed silent until we were halfway down the corridor. "You gonna tell me what that was about?"

 

"No," I said instantly.

 

His lips twitched into something that was almost a smirk, but his eyes didn't match it. "Figures."

 

I started walking toward the stairs, but he caught my wrist—gently, just enough to halt me. "Come with me. I want to show you something."

 

"Sebastian, I just got out of the hospital wing."

 

"Exactly," he said, like that proved his point. "You need somewhere quiet. Away from people. Just... trust me."

 

I didn't answer, but I didn't pull away either.

 

He led me through the castle's hidden turns until we stopped in front of the clock tower. My brow furrowed.

 

"Seriously?"

 

His grin was faint, but it was there.

 

"Seriously."

 

———————————————

 

The Undercroft was warmer than I remembered. Or maybe it just felt that way because of how close Sebastian was sitting. The air between us seemed charged, heavier than the low candlelight could account for. My fingers toyed with the edge of my sleeve as I pretended to study the shelves of spell books, but my attention kept circling back to him.

 

He lounged like he owned the place one arm slung across the back of the sofa, legs stretched out in that careless, too-comfortable way that always made him look both lazy and dangerous.

 

We hadn't said much since we got here. Just a few passing comments about the weather outside and how busy it was at lunchtime in the Great Hall. I could feel him watching me though, his gaze lingering every time I turned my head.

 

"So," he said at last, breaking the quiet in that drawling way that always meant he was about to stir something up. "You're good at keeping busy. Always have your nose in a book lately. Studying for NEWTs still, I assume?"

 

"Obviously," I said, leaning back into the arm of the couch. "It's not like I want to fail and end up living in the Forbidden Forest."

 

A small smirk curved his mouth. "You wouldn't last a week out there."

 

"Please," I scoffed. "I'd last longer than you."

 

His smirk deepened but his eyes sharpened, like he was deciding something. 

 

"So... is that the plan, then? Study yourself into oblivion so you can go... what? Work in the Ministry? Start brewing in some dusty shop? I can't picture it."

 

I hesitated, pulse stuttering. Work for the Ministry. Not exactly as an employee, more like... their weapon. The thought alone made my throat tighten. I forced a shrug, hoping it looked casual. 

 

"I haven't decided."

 

"Mm." He was still watching me like I was a puzzle he couldn't quite solve.

 

I hated how easy it would be for him to unravel me if I wasn't careful. 

 

"What about you?" I asked, deflecting. "Going to become a famous Quidditch player after you graduate?"

 

That earned me a low chuckle. "Not quite. I've got something else in mind."

 

"And that is...?"

 

He tilted his head slightly, the candlelight catching in his eyes. 

 

"You tell me what you're planning, and maybe I'll tell you mine."

 

I laughed under my breath. 

 

"That's not how this works."

 

He leaned forward just slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. 

 

"You already know, don't you?"

 

My stomach gave an unhelpful twist. I shouldn't have asked, shouldn't have even hinted at it—but the words slipped out before I could stop them. 

 

"Do you still want to be an Auror?"

 

His brows pulled together immediately, his expression shifting from amused to curious in a heartbeat. 

 

"Still?"

 

I realised my mistake instantly. 

 

"I mean—"

 

"How do you know that's what I wanted in the first place?" His voice wasn't sharp, but there was something beneath it.

 

I looked away quickly, pretending to find sudden fascination with the flickering candle beside us. 

 

"Ominis mentioned it once."

 

There was a pause long enough to make my shoulders tighten. Then he leaned back again, letting it go—or at least pretending to. 

 

"Figures. He's worse than a Daily Prophet columnist."

 

I managed a small smile, but my chest felt too tight. He didn't press, but I could feel the question still hanging in the air. He was filing it away for later, I could tell.

 

Sebastian picked up one of the little pastries Tiddle had brought down earlier, taking a slow bite before glancing at me again. 

 

"You know, you're a terrible liar."

 

I froze for half a second, forcing a laugh. 

 

"Excuse me?"

 

He swallowed, smirking faintly. 

 

"Your eyes do this thing when you're hiding something. It's almost entertaining to watch."

 

My pulse pounded in my ears. 

 

"Maybe you just imagine things."

 

"Mm." That little hum again. The one that said I'm not done with this.

 

I grabbed a pastry of my own, needing something to do with my hands. The silence stretched again, thick enough to choke on, but somehow I couldn't bring myself to move.

 

Finally, he shifted closer, draping one arm casually across the back of the sofa so his hand was resting just behind my shoulders. 

 

"I'm going to figure you out, Winters," he said quietly, almost like a promise.

 

I met his gaze despite every instinct telling me not to. 

 

"Maybe I don't want to be figured out."

 

"That's the fun part." His smirk was softer now, less taunting and more dangerous in its warmth.

 

I turned away first, breaking the eye contact before I forgot how to breathe. 

 

"You're insufferable."

 

"Yet here you are," he said, his voice dripping with quiet satisfaction.

 

I shifted on the sofa, meaning to put some distance between us, but somehow my knee brushed against his. The contact was so slight I could have ignored it—pretended it didn't happen—but I didn't move.

 

Neither did he.

 

Instead, his fingers flexed on the back of the sofa, the knuckles grazing the back of my shoulder just enough to make my breath hitch. I could feel him looking at me, and it wasn't that usual, cocky Sebastian stare. This one was slower. Heavier.

 

My pastry was long forgotten on the plate in my lap. The warmth from his knee was seeping into mine, making my chest tighten in a way I didn't want to acknowledge.

 

"Careful," I murmured, not quite meeting his eyes. "You're close to crossing a line."

 

He didn't move away. If anything, the air between us thickened. 

 

"What if I told you I don't mind crossing it?"

 

My heart was in my throat. I made the mistake of glancing up at him, and the look in his eyes—dark, steady, intent—pulled me in like a tide.

 

For a moment, I thought he might close the gap completely. The Undercroft felt too small, too warm, the shadows around us folding in like a secret. His hand shifted just slightly, fingertips brushing the top of my arm, and I forgot every reason I'd had for keeping my distance.

 

Then, with a low, knowing smile, he leaned back again—just enough to let the moment cool without breaking it entirely. 

 

"You should probably head back before you're missed," he said, like he hadn't just set my nerves on fire.

 

I swallowed, standing before my legs could betray me. 

 

"Right."

 

But when I turned toward the door, I swore I felt his gaze on me the whole way out. And of course he didn't let me get two steps before he was on his feet.

 

"I'll walk you back."

 

It wasn't a question.

 

I opened my mouth to protest—something about not needing a chaperone—but he was already beside me, falling into step like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

 

The Undercroft door sealed shut behind us, locking away whatever tension was still buzzing between my ribs. Or maybe not locking it away at all—maybe it was following us, curling around our ankles like smoke.

 

We walked side by side through the dim corridors, our steps echoing softly in the cold air. He didn't say anything at first, and I didn't either. It felt like if either of us spoke too soon, we'd break something fragile.

 

Halfway up the staircase, he finally broke the silence.

 

"Can I ask you something?"

 

I gave him a sidelong look. 

 

"You usually do anyway."

 

His mouth twitched like he wanted to smile but thought better of it. 

 

"This one's different."

 

That earned him a raised brow. 

 

"Go on."

 

"What do you want after Hogwarts?"

 

I stopped for a beat, my foot hovering over the next step. Not what job or where will you live, but what do you want. My stomach tightened.

 

"Didn't we already talk about this?" I asked, hoping to deflect.

 

"Not like this," he said, slowing his pace so we were level again. His arm brushed mine as he guided me around a loose stone with a warm, steady hand at the small of my back. The contact burned straight through the layers of fabric. 

 

"Last time, I asked what you'd do. This time I'm asking... what you'd actually want it to look like. No pretending. No saying what you think sounds safe."

 

I looked forward, pretending to study the wall sconces. I couldn't exactly say a life where the Ministry isn't pulling my strings and my magic isn't a weapon.

 

So I shrugged instead. 

 

"Somewhere quiet. Peaceful."

 

He hummed like he was tasting the word on his tongue. 

 

"Quiet's good. But it's a hell of a lot better if you're not alone in it."

 

I risked a glance at him. The torchlight caught his eyes in gold, softening them. 

 

"You sound like you're pitching a country cottage."

 

"Maybe I am." The corner of his mouth curved. "So... anyone there with you in this perfect, peaceful place?"

 

I swallowed, fiddling with the end of my scarf. 

 

"I don't know. Maybe someone who notices if I'm gone."

 

He stopped moving for just a fraction of a second—enough to feel the shift in the air—then fell into step again. His voice was lower now. 

 

"That's not a maybe."

 

Heat climbed up my neck, and I pushed past him, needing to move. 

 

"What about you?"

 

"My turn?" he asked, easily matching my pace. "Same quiet mornings. Same place. A mug of tea that's still warm because someone reminded me to drink it. Someone who tells me when I'm being an idiot and... stays anyway."

 

"Romantic," I teased, but the word came out soft.

 

We turned down the final corridor. His hand brushed mine once, twice—the lightest touch, like he was testing the water. On the third time, he didn't pull away. His fingers slid between mine, his palm warm, the contact grounding and electric all at once.

 

"Better?" he asked, gaze flicking down to where our hands were joined.

 

"Yes," I admitted before I could think.

 

He held on until the green glow of the common room arch lit the space ahead. There, he loosened his grip, letting my hand slip away. 

 

"That's all I wanted to know. For now."

 

"For now?" I echoed.

 

He stepped back, his voice dipping low enough to pull at my pulse. 

 

"There's more I want to ask you. But some things..." His gaze lingered, deliberate. "...I'll wait for you to tell me."

 

And then he turned away, leaving me standing in the archway with my heart pounding and the ghost of his hand still tangled in mine.

Chapter 44: A season for you

The library had gone soft around the edges. Snow freckled the windowpanes, quills whispered like conspirators, and even the radiator seemed to have agreed to clank politely every ten minutes instead of its usual tantrums. I was four paragraphs into pretending Transfiguration theory was more interesting than the outline of frost when a striped candy cane thunked onto my page and blocked the sentence mid-theorem.

 

"Friday," Violet announced, dropping into the seat opposite like a glamorous avalanche. 

 

"Night. Cozy get-together before we all disappear for Christmas. You're coming."

 

I eyed the candy cane. 

 

"Define cozy."

 

"Small. Warm. Drinks, games, presents." She ticked them off on mittened fingers. "Our lot only—Noah, Ellis, Priscilla, Gareth, Imelda, Poppy, Ominis, Sebastian." The last name dangled like mistletoe. "Say yes or I'll write your name on the 'carol solo' list."

 

"I have NEWTs."

 

"You'll still have NEWTs on your deathbed," she said sweetly. "This is non-negotiable. Also, secret gift exchange. Five Galleons max. Nothing cursed." She paused. "Lightly cursed if it's hilarious."

 

A laugh escaped me before I could strangle it. 

 

"Fine. But if anyone hexes me into singing, I'm haunting you first."

 

"Noted." She tapped the cane against my nose like a gavel and swept off, scarf trailing victory.

 

I stared at my notes, absorbed exactly none of them, and made the mistake of picturing Sebastian at a small party—firelight, laughter, the edge he wore like armor swapped for something softer. Right. Studying was doomed.

 

Friday night, the tucked-away sitting room looked like the inside of a snow globe someone very tasteful had designed: emerald garlands threaded with silver ribbon climbed the stone, fairy lights drifted between floating candles, and a charmed snowfall spiraled from the ceiling and melted a breath before touching anything. The fire roared like it had a reputation to uphold, throwing gold into every shadow.

 

Poppy curled into an armchair with cocoa and a plate piled dangerously high, babbling happily. Ominis slipped in beside her, his wand tip glowing a soft red as he navigated the room with unerring grace. Ellis and Priscilla were a tangle on one sofa; Noah and Violet sat cross-legged on the rug by the low table of snacks, already arguing about the best mince pie ratio. Imelda and Gareth were in the corner, half-bickering, half-flirting about whose team would annihilate whom after the holiday.

 

And then there was Sebastian—leaning against the mantle like he'd been poured there, one hand in his pocket, the other wrapped around a glass of firewhisky. The flames threw copper through his hair. He looked up the second I came in, and something in his expression eased, like I was the last piece to click into place.

 

"Winters," he said, voice low. "Decided to be festive."

 

"Decided to be blackmailed," I said, ignoring the neat little skip my heart pulled off.

 

The night warmed fast. Exploding Snap ended with Noah sporting singed eyebrow tips and a wounded dignity; Violet dared him to stand on the table and belt "God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs" and he committed so hard Priscilla cried from laughing. Someone enchanted the mince pies to hum along in an unhelpful key (Ellis), and someone else hexed his hair into tinsel for twenty minutes as penance (Violet).

 

We did the gift exchange early, because patience is a lie at Christmas. Poppy pressed a deep-green scarf into my hands—soft as a sigh

 

"Matches your eyes," she said with a wink. 

 

Ellis gave Noah a scarf that changed color every time he swore; within three minutes it was flashing like a hazard beacon. Ominis unwrapped a polished wand rest etched with tiny runes; his fingers traced them like a map, and the smile on his mouth went soft enough to hush the room for a second. Gareth presented Imelda with miniature broom baubles; they buzzed her like furious bees until she snagged one out of the air and kissed his cheek, promising to shove the rest down his shirt if they clipped her hair.

 

A flat, carefully wrapped parcel slid into my lap—paper smudged with ink, edges suspiciously like they'd been torn from old notes. I tried not to look up and absolutely did not make eye contact with the boy by the fire suddenly fascinated by the state of his boots.

 

Inside: a slim, dark-green journal with a crescent moon stamped in the leather and a thin silver bookmark tucked inside—an Abraxan winged horse, wings unfurled. When I lifted it, the etched stars along its edge shimmered as if they'd sighed. Tucked behind the first page, a hand-annotated star chart of December over Hogwarts: Orion rises at ten—coldest hour. Meteor shower possible next week. A neat circle around a cluster low on the horizon with two words beside it: Look up.

 

My throat tightened.

 

"Good?" Violet asked, leaning into my space, eyes alight.

 

"It's perfect," I said, too quickly.

 

Across the room, Sebastian sipped his drink without looking at me, a faint flush creeping traitorously up his cheekbones.

 

His turn yielded a woolen hat with ear flaps the size of sails. The room howled. He tugged it on solemnly and tilted his head at me like he was expecting applause.

 

"You look like a shepherd," I said, biting down on a smile.

 

"Finally," he intoned, "a respectable career path."

 

We let the night loosen. Mulled mead warmed hands; firewhisky warmed everything else. Poppy told the story of the Puffskein that moved into her stocking and unionised. Ominis listened, head tilted, red wand tip resting on his knee like an ember. Gareth and Imelda slid from bickering to bickering-while-kissing so seamlessly Noah threw a biscuit at them. Sebastian drifted, teasing Violet, stealing a sugared almond from Noah's plate, answering Ellis with a look sharp enough to shave with.

 

He ended up beside me by the tree, not touching, the heat of him a careful orbit. 

 

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, and his tone made it a real question.

 

"It's... nice," I admitted. "Cozy."

 

"You don't do cozy often," he said, the corner of his mouth tilting. Not judgment—observation.

 

"I do if bribed with pastry," I said, which was the wrong thing, because he looked at my mouth like he'd found a new favorite subject.

 

The air shifted. A prickle of magic brushed my skin—playful, inevitable. We both glanced up.

 

Mistletoe, hanging above us, berries glowing the faintest gold.

 

"Oh for—" I began, laughing because if I didn't I might do the other thing.

 

"Seems rude to disrespect tradition," he murmured, eyes on mine, voice low enough to pull at my pulse. He didn't crowd. He didn't ask twice. He just stood close enough that wool and spice and warmth blurred the cold edges of the room. His gaze dipped to my mouth and back. 

 

"Winters."

 

It wasn't a performance. It wasn't even long. He leaned in and kissed me like he had time—slow, deliberate, the barest pressure that deepened for a heartbeat and then eased, his hand finding the curve of my jaw, thumb brushing under my ear like he meant to memorize it. My fingers curled into his shirt without my permission. The world did that white-noise thing where everything else falls away.

 

When we broke, the mistletoe twinkled smugly and drifted on to menace other sinners. The party reassembled around us—the fire crackled, Priscilla scolded Ellis for trying to charm the fairy lights into spelling rude words, Violet made an interested "hmm" sound and then very studiously did not look at me.

 

"Merry Christmas," Sebastian said, very quietly, a smile softening his mouth like he wasn't sure if he was allowed it.

 

"Merry Christmas," I said back, and it felt like nudging a door open with my hip while carrying something precious.

 

We didn't make a fuss. That might've been the most dangerous part. We re-entered the orbit of our friends like people who hadn't just set themselves on fire and agreed to pretend they weren't warm.

 

Violet and Noah dragged us into a round of Truth or Hex. The rules were simple: answer honestly or endure a harmless, humiliating charm for an hour. It started sweet—favorite biscuits; worst Christmas jumper; biggest childhood crush (Gareth, loudly: "Mine was my broom"). Then Ellis, drunk on his own mischief, pointed at Sebastian with a ginger biscuit like a gavel.

"Type," he declared. "And don't say 'two legs and a pulse' or I'll hex your hat into a chicken."

 

Sebastian didn't even blink. He leaned back, folded his arms, and considered, eyes nowhere near me until they were. "Sharp," he said finally. "Stubborn. Smarter than me." A pause, so slight it could have been imagined. "Someone who makes me want to be better."

 

Ellis nearly dropped his biscuit at Sebastian's response, spluttering like he'd witnessed a marriage proposal. Imelda muttered something unprintable into her drink. Violet, not missing a beat, swivelled on me like a cat with a cornered mouse.

 

"Alright then, Alora," she purred, eyes wicked. "What's your type?"

 

The tinsel above my head quivered, as if waiting to betray me. My pulse kicked up traitorously. Every face leaned in. Every face—except his. He was leaning back, calm as you please, but his eyes were on me like a dare.

 

I forced a shrug. 

 

"Someone who doesn't ask idiotic questions at parties."

 

Laughter rippled. Violet rolled her eyes. 

 

"Cop out."

 

I hesitated, heat crawling up my neck. 

 

"...Fine. If you must know—someone who keeps me on my toes. Clever. A little reckless." My gaze snagged where it shouldn't. "Someone who makes things... interesting."

 

Across the circle, Sebastian looked down at his ridiculous hat very, very seriously to hide his mouth.

 

The night thinned by degrees. Poppy left with three hugs per person and a Tupperware of contraband pies. Ominis rose, red wand tip lighting his way; as he passed he squeezed my shoulder in a quiet goodnight that felt like being blessed. Gareth and Imelda vanished in a flurry of broom-shaped baubles. Ellis and Priscilla went last, him glittering, her scolding, both laughing.

 

Silence settled, soft as the snow outside. The fire settled with it. I started collecting mugs because it was something for my hands to do.

 

"You're not allowed to tidy," Sebastian said, appearing at my elbow and relieving me of two. "It's Christmas law."

 

"Show me the statute," I said.

 

"It's in my hat." He set the ridiculous ear-flap thing on my head with grave ceremony. It slipped over my eyebrows. I swatted him; he grinned, unrepentant, and righted it, fingers lingering at my temple a fraction too long.

 

We stacked plates, argued over whether the singing pies had perfect pitch (they did not), and pretended our mouths weren't still remembering each other. When we finally drifted toward the stairs, the room felt too warm to leave.

 

At the foot of the girls' steps, he brushed his knuckles against mine—a touch so small it shouldn't have mattered and did anyway.

 

"If the castle conjures any more plants," he said, "I reserve the right to obey them."

 

"That's cowardice," I managed.

 

"That's strategy," he corrected, mouth tilted. The look he gave me after would have melted icicles. "Sleep, Winters."

 

"Bossy," I said, because habit keeps you alive.

 

He didn't deny it. I climbed, hand sliding the rail, and glanced back halfway. He was still there by the fire, hat crooked, watching like he could hear a quiet I hadn't let anyone into for a long time.

 

For once, the quiet didn't feel like a vault. It felt like snow landing warm on stone and refusing to melt.

 

—————————————

 

The Slytherin common room was warm in a way that had nothing to do with the fire crackling in the corner. The heat came from the buzz of voices, the clink of trunks against the stone floor, and the faint scent of pine and cinnamon drifting down from the garlands draped along the arched walls.

 

Everyone was busy. Violet was kneeling on the rug in front of the hearth, surrounded by a chaos of clothes, her hair falling forward in a glossy sheet as she tried to wrestle a particularly stubborn clasp shut on her trunk. 

 

"If I sit on it, it'll close," she muttered.

 

From the couch, Priscilla didn't look up from her book. 

 

"That's what you said the last time, and then you had to carry your broom separately because your robes wouldn't fit."

 

Violet gave the trunk one last shove, then let out a groan. 

 

"Fine. I'll just wear all my clothes on the train."

 

Noah, sprawled beside Priscilla, looked far too pleased with himself. 

 

"We're travelling light this year. Floo straight from Hogsmeade to my parents' place. No heavy lifting required." 

 

He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to Violet's temple, earning a theatrical gag from Ellis, who was perched in the armchair opposite them.

 

"Merlin's sake," Ellis said. "Some of us are trying to avoid witnessing public displays of affection before lunch."

 

Priscilla finally lowered her book just enough to smirk at him. 

 

"You're just bitter because you're travelling alone."

 

"Not alone," Ellis said, tilting his head towards his girlfriend. "Priscilla and I are going to her family's place. You know — where people actually respect the concept of a quiet holiday."

 

"Sounds boring," Violet teased.

 

From near the far wall, Imelda's voice cut through. 

 

"You all have no sense of excitement. Gareth's parents invited me for the whole break, and I fully intend to use the next two weeks to destroy him on his own turf."

 

I raised an eyebrow. 

 

"Pretty sure he's Gryffindor's Quidditch captain. You've been trying to one-up him for months."

 

"That's why it's going to be so satisfying," she shot back, the corner of her mouth lifting. "I'm going to make him wish he'd never invited me."

 

Across from her, Sebastian let out a quiet laugh from where he'd claimed one of the armchairs. He had a book open in his lap, though the fact he hadn't turned the page in the last ten minutes told me he wasn't reading. 

 

"Good luck with that. If you think you're going to beat Gareth on a broom when he's been playing since first year, you're delusional."

 

Imelda narrowed her eyes at him. 

 

"Better than whatever thrilling holiday plans you have."

 

Sebastian's gaze flicked briefly to me before he replied, and that tiny pause didn't go unnoticed. 

 

"Actually," he said, flipping the book shut with deliberate nonchalance, "Ominis and I are going to Feldcroft. My uncle's place is... empty now, but the house is still in the family. There's plenty of room."

 

I looked up from the stack of NEWT prep books I'd been sorting through, trying to keep my tone even.

 

"Sounds quiet."

 

"Quiet's not a bad thing," he said with a shrug. Then his eyes found mine again, and this time his tone shifted, casual but with something sharper beneath. 

 

"If anyone didn't feel like spending Christmas here alone, they could... come with us."

 

The words weren't aimed at the room. They were aimed directly at me.

 

Ominis, sitting in the chair opposite him with his wand balanced lightly between his fingers, didn't even hesitate to add, 

 

"Translation: he's already decided you're coming. Resistance is futile."

 

I snorted under my breath. 

 

"I'll think about it."

 

Sebastian leaned back, draping an arm lazily over the side of his chair. 

 

"Good. I'd hate to think you'd be stuck wandering an empty castle while the rest of us are eating roast dinners and drinking spiced cider."

 

Imelda tilted her head at me, catching the undercurrent immediately. 

 

"Better say yes. Once Sallow gets an idea in his head, he doesn't let go."

 

"That's one way of putting it," Ominis muttered, though the faintest ghost of a smile touched his lips.

 

I tried to focus back on the books in my lap, but my mind wandered. Home wasn't somewhere I particularly wanted to be, and the thought of rattling around Hogwarts alone — even with the peaceful quiet — wasn't exactly appealing either.

 

Sebastian's voice cut back in, smooth and just a little too knowing. 

 

"Fine is overrated."

 

I glanced up at him, ready with some sort of dismissive remark, but the way he was looking at me — patient, expectant, almost as if he'd already won — caught me off guard. The firelight caught in the gold flecks of his eyes, and for a second, the rest of the room blurred into background noise.

 

I forced myself to look back down at my notes. 

 

"I said I'd think about it."

 

He didn't press the point, but the small, satisfied smirk tugging at his mouth said he didn't need to.

 

—————————————

 

The castle was a whirlwind of last-minute chaos — trunks banging down staircases, owls darting overhead with forgotten packages, the muffled chatter of students shouting goodbyes over the thrum of boots on stone. The great doors were propped open, letting in air so cold it bit my cheeks and made my eyes water.

 

I stood at the base of the Grand Staircase, pretending I was just people-watching. Really, I was stalling. My bag was already packed and leaning against the banister at my side. My decision? Still hanging in the balance.

 

"Winters," came a voice I'd recognise anywhere. Sebastian emerged from the sea of moving students, weaving his way through with an easy confidence. Ominis trailed just behind, wand held lightly in his hand, the tip glowing faintly as it guided him.

 

Sebastian stopped in front of me, giving me a quick once-over. 

 

"You look like someone who's about to spend Christmas locked in the library."

 

"I look like someone who hasn't decided yet," I corrected.

 

"Which means you're dangerously close to making the wrong choice," he said, folding his arms. "If you were planning on coming with us, you'd already be outside."

 

"You're relentless."

 

"Persistent," he countered, leaning just a little closer, his voice dropping to something only I could hear. 

 

"Feldcroft's quieter this time of year. Snow that actually crunches under your boots, not just drafts in your face every time a door opens. It's... peaceful."

 

I hesitated. The truth was, peace sounded tempting. Too tempting.

 

"And," he added, his tone softening, "you'd get me. All week. No interruptions."

 

I raised a brow. "That's supposed to convince me?"

 

"Worked before," he said, smirking like he already knew the answer.

 

From behind him, Ominis gave a small shake of his head. 

 

"You don't have to go if you'd rather not," he said mildly, "but Sebastian is right about one thing — it's quieter there. And, if I'm being honest, safer."

 

I exhaled, my breath curling white in the cold. Maybe they were right. Maybe leaving the castle for a while would be good for me.

 

"Fine," I said, narrowing my eyes at Sebastian. "But if I regret it—"

 

"You won't," he said instantly, grin spreading in triumph.

 

"—I'm hexing you in your sleep."

 

"It'll be worth it."

 

—————————————

 

The air in Feldcroft felt different. Sharper. Cleaner. The kind of cold that snuck under your scarf and settled in your lungs, making each breath sting in the best way. The snow here wasn't the patchy, wind-swept stuff clinging to the Hogwarts grounds — it was thick, untouched, muffling everything in a blanket of white.

 

We walked the narrow lane toward the Sallow house, our boots crunching in unison. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, the scent of burning wood threading through the air.

 

I hadn't been here in years. Not since... fifth year. My steps slowed just slightly as we neared the house, my gaze dragging over familiar rooftops, corners of the village that tugged at half-buried memories.

 

"Cold?" Sebastian glanced over his shoulder at me, his breath puffing white. "We'll be inside in a minute."

 

I forced a smile. 

 

"I'm fine."

 

Beside him, Ominis tilted his head just enough for me to catch it. His blind eyes didn't meet mine, but there was a subtle shift in his expression — the smallest tightening around his mouth. He'd noticed. Of course he had. Ominis noticed everything.

 

Sebastian pushed the door open with a flourish, stepping aside for me to go in first. 

 

"Welcome to Feldcroft," he said, that boyish grin tugging at his mouth. "Try not to get lost."

 

The warmth hit me immediately, wrapping around my chilled skin. The Sallow home was... exactly how I remembered it. Low wooden beams, the faint creak of the floorboards underfoot, the lingering scent of old books and cedar smoke. My throat tightened for a second, but I smoothed it over before either of them could see.

 

Sebastian shrugged out of his coat and tossed it over a chair. 

 

"Make yourself at home. Tea? Firewhisky? Hot chocolate?"

 

"I'll take tea," I said quickly, before he could start rummaging through whatever bottles he had stashed away.

 

He grinned. 

 

"Hot chocolate it is, then."

 

Ominis set his wand down on the table, moving through the room with an ease that came from familiarity. 

 

"I'll start a fire," he said, though his tone carried something quieter, meant for me — You're alright?

 

I gave the smallest of nods, hoping it would be enough.

 

Sebastian, meanwhile, was a blur in the kitchen — clattering mugs onto the counter, muttering to himself about cinnamon versus nutmeg, as if this were the most important decision of the evening. His voice floated back through the doorway. 

 

"We've got biscuits too. And not the stale ones."

 

I let out a breath I didn't realise I'd been holding and eased into one of the armchairs by the hearth. The fire caught quickly under Ominis' wand, the flames casting the room in a soft, flickering glow.

 

When Sebastian finally returned, he handed me a steaming mug and dropped into the chair opposite mine, stretching his legs out like he'd been running for hours. 

 

"See? Not so bad, is it?"

 

The warmth of the drink seeped into my fingers, chasing away the last of the cold. 

 

"Not bad at all," I said. And for the moment, it was true.

 

Sebastian leaned back in his chair, cradling his own mug like it was a victory trophy. 

 

"You know," he said, eyes flicking over me in that half-teasing, half-curious way of his, "I was half-convinced you were going to turn me down. Again."

 

"I almost did," I admitted, sipping the hot chocolate. Sweet, rich, and far too comforting for me to regret the trip.

 

He scoffed. 

 

"What, and miss out on my hospitality? You'd have been miserable at Hogwarts, rattling around an empty common room with Peeves for company."

 

Ominis, still tending to the fire, gave the faintest smirk. 

 

"Or perhaps she prefers peace and quiet. Not everyone considers your voice a winter necessity."

 

Sebastian shot him a look, then turned his attention back to me, undeterred. 

 

"You've been wound tight lately. Figured a change of scenery might help."

 

The remark landed heavier than I expected. I glanced down into my mug, watching the steam curl up into the lamplight. If only you knew how much history this scenery has for me.

 

I forced another small smile. 

 

"It's... nice to get away."

 

He accepted that without pressing, leaning over to snag a biscuit from the plate he'd brought in. 

 

"Tomorrow we'll go into the village — there's this baker who makes these ridiculous sugared twists. I'll even let you have the last one."

 

"That's generous," I murmured.

 

"Don't encourage him," Ominis said, but there was a trace of warmth in his voice.

 

Sebastian shrugged and bit into the biscuit, crumbs scattering over his shirt. He didn't notice — or didn't care. Typical.

 

The rest of the evening was... easy. The fire crackled, shadows swaying lazily over the walls. Ominis sat in quiet contentment, occasionally chiming in when Sebastian's commentary on everything veered too far into absurdity. I found myself relaxing, even laughing once or twice when Sebastian's sarcasm edged into theatrical.

 

It was strange. Being here again after so long — with him, with Ominis — it should've felt suffocating. But the way Sebastian's hair caught the firelight, the way his grin crept up when he caught me looking — it was dangerously easy to pretend there wasn't a ghost between us.

 

At one point, he got up to refill the kettle, his hand brushing my shoulder as he passed. The touch was casual, fleeting... and yet it sparked heat up my spine.

 

When he came back, he didn't return to his chair. Instead, he leaned against the mantelpiece, his gaze fixed on me like he was trying to solve a puzzle. 

 

"You're quieter than usual," he said.

 

I met his eyes, holding back the hundred things I couldn't tell him. 

 

"Just tired."

 

Something flickered across his face — maybe disappointment, maybe curiosity — but he let it drop. 

 

"Right. Well... you'll have a proper night's sleep here. The bed in the guest room's basically a cloud."

 

"Hopefully without the Night terrors," I said before I could stop myself.

 

He grinned faintly at the joke, but Ominis' head tilted, just slightly. I could feel his attention sharpen.

 

Sebastian didn't notice. 

 

"Come on, I'll show you," he said, pushing off the mantel and gesturing toward the hallway. 

 

"Unless you want to stay here and freeze when the fire dies."

 

I followed him down the short corridor, the creak of the floorboards a reminder that this house hadn't changed in years. He opened the door to the guest room and stood back.

 

It was small but warm, the quilt on the bed patched in mismatched fabrics that somehow looked charming instead of worn. A single candle flickered on the nightstand, filling the space with soft light.

 

"See? Cozy."

 

I smirked. 

 

"I'll be the judge of that."

 

He lingered in the doorway, hands in his pockets, like he had more to say but couldn't quite get it out. Then he just nodded. 

 

"Goodnight, Winters."

 

"Goodnight, Sallow."

 

When the door clicked shut behind him, I let out a slow breath. The silence pressed in, bringing with it all the memories I'd kept at bay all evening.

 

And somewhere down the hall, I heard Ominis' low voice murmur something to Sebastian. Too quiet to catch the words, but I knew without hearing them: Ominis was still keeping tabs on me.

Chapter 45: Merry Christmas, Alora

The first thing I noticed when I woke was the quiet.

 

Not the usual quiet of a Hogwarts morning, where the distant chatter of students and the occasional clink of cutlery drifted through stone corridors. This was the soft, heavy kind the sort that came with a blanket of snow pressed up against the world, muting every sound until it felt like even my own breathing might be too loud.

 

For a moment, I didn't move. My bed in Feldcroft was tucked beneath a slanted ceiling, a small window to my right hazy with frost. The air was cool enough to nip at my nose, but warm under the quilt. I could have stayed like that all morning.

 

Then came a muffled knock at the door.

 

"Winters," Sebastian's voice came, low but annoyingly awake. "You planning to hibernate, or are you going to come downstairs before Ominis drinks all the tea?"

 

Rolling my eyes, I pushed back the covers. My legs hit the icy floor and I instantly regretted leaving bed. 

 

"Give me five minutes!" I called back, already hearing his footsteps retreat.

 

When I came down, the scent of fresh bread and something sweet filled the kitchen. Sebastian was leaning against the counter, a steaming mug in hand, his hair still tousled from sleep. Ominis sat at the table, his wand resting beside his plate, the faint red glow at its tip catching on the edges of his smile.

 

"You're lucky," Sebastian said without looking up from his tea. "I was about to start without you."

 

"I'd hex you," I replied, sliding into the chair opposite Ominis.

 

"Empty threats," Sebastian muttered, pouring me tea anyway. He pushed a plate towards me — thick slices of warm bread, butter melting into the crust, and a small dish of what looked suspiciously like homemade jam.

 

We ate in a comfortable quiet, interrupted only by Ominis' occasional comment about how rural life was 

 

"Charming in the most freezing, inconvenient way imaginable."

 

It wasn't until Sebastian said, 

 

"We're going into the village after this," that I blinked up at him.

 

"Why?"

 

"Last-minute shopping," he said, as though it were obvious. "Also, the bakery I spoke about yesterday, they do these cinnamon pastries that I need you to try or you'll never forgive me."

 

The village was straight out of a snow globe.

 

Snow layered the rooftops, glittering under the pale sun, and icicles hung from the eaves. Lanterns swayed gently in the breeze, casting a warm golden glow across the cobblestones. The air smelled faintly of smoke and spiced cider, and every shopfront was dressed in garlands and wreaths.

 

We wandered, Sebastian walking just close enough that I could feel the warmth of his arm brushing mine whenever the crowd pushed us together. He bought two steaming cups from a vendor, thrusting one into my hands without asking.

 

"What is it?" I asked, sniffing the drink.

 

"Mulled cider," he said. "Trust me."

 

I took a sip and immediately hummed in approval. 

 

"Alright, fine. You were right."

 

He smirked, and I hated the way it made my stomach twist.

 

Ominis trailed behind us, listening to the bustle with an expression that could almost pass for contentment. 

 

"This is tolerable," he admitted when Sebastian teased him for tagging along. "Though I do question your priorities. Cinnamon pastries over practicality?"

 

"They're essential," Sebastian argued. "You'll understand once you've had one."

 

By the time we returned to the house, the sun was sinking low, painting Feldcroft in dusky pinks and golds. The fire in the sitting room was already crackling, throwing shadows across the walls.

 

Sebastian handed me one of the paper bags from the bakery.

 

"For later," he said, almost shyly, before collapsing into the armchair opposite mine.

 

There was a warmth to the evening that made it feel almost normal. We talked until Ominis declared he was going to bed and disappeared upstairs. The silence that followed wasn't awkward. If anything, it was heavier, charged. Sebastian leaned forward, elbows on his knees, looking at me in a way that made it hard to breathe.

 

"You seem... different here," he said after a moment. "Calmer."

 

"Maybe I am," I said quietly. "Or maybe it's just the snow."

 

He smiled faintly. 

 

"Whatever it is... I like it."

 

And then, as the firelight flickered between us, I realised I didn't want Christmas Eve to end.

 

————————————————

 

Evening in Feldcroft came early in December, swallowing the sky in deep blue shadows long before the clock hit six. The air outside bit sharp against the skin, but inside, Sebastian had made the cottage impossibly warm — the kind of warmth that seeps into your bones and makes you reluctant to move at all.

 

The fire crackled in the hearth, casting soft gold over the room, throwing Sebastian into sharp, shifting relief. His hair caught the light in a way that made the mess of it look deliberate, shadows hugging the line of his jaw, the cut of his cheekbones. The phonograph in the corner was crackling through a scratchy rendition of God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen, its faint melody winding between the sounds of popping logs and the clink of glass against glass.

 

Ominis had excused himself hours ago, muttering something about "not needing to witness whatever sentimental nonsense two glasses of mulled wine turns Sebastian into."

 

Sebastian had rolled his eyes at that — but sure enough, he was sprawled sideways in the armchair now, one leg hooked lazily over the armrest, the other stretched toward the fire. His arm rested on the backrest behind his head, shirt tugging just enough across his chest to hint at the muscle underneath, his posture a picture of smug, effortless comfort.

 

We'd been swapping stories — mostly ridiculous Hogwarts moments. I was wiping tears of laughter from my eyes after he recounted when Gareth managed to blow up a pumpkin during the Halloween feast and somehow Sebastian had been the one to get detention for it.

 

The warmth from the fire and the slow sweetness of the wine blurred the edges of the world. My head felt pleasantly light. I shivered once, trying to hide it, but he caught it instantly.

 

"Winters," he said, his voice warm and threaded with amusement. "You're freezing."

 

"I'm fine."

 

"You're stubborn," he corrected, levering himself up and snagging the blanket draped over the back of his chair. He tossed it toward me, but when I didn't take it, he crossed the space in two strides.

 

The blanket settled around my shoulders with a gentle weight, and before I could think of something to say, his fingers brushed along the collar of my jumper as he tucked the fabric close around me. The contact was fleeting, but it made my breath hitch.

 

He didn't call me out on it, just smirked faintly and returned to his chair.

 

We talked until the logs in the hearth burned low, until my eyelids grew heavier with each flicker of flame. Eventually, I murmured something about heading to bed.

 

Upstairs, the little guest room was quiet and perfectly warm, but the stillness pressed in like a weight. The bed smelled faintly of old wood and clean linen, but it wasn't... him. My mind wandered back to the firelight on his face, the curve of his smirk, the faint rasp in his laugh after the wine.

 

I told myself to stop being ridiculous. And yet, moments later, I found myself standing outside his door, knuckles hovering mid-air. I could hear the faint rustle of sheets inside, the shift of weight on a mattress.

 

Before I could lose my nerve, I knocked.

 

The door creaked open, and there he was.

 

Sebastian. Shirtless.

 

The fire downstairs hadn't been kind to me — it had clearly been very kind to him. Warm amber light from the hallway spilled over his skin, catching the faint dusting of freckles that ran across his shoulders and down the lean muscle of his arms. His chest was defined without being excessive, the kind of strength earned from hours on a broom and restless energy that never let him sit still for long. My gaze flicked lower — the sharp V of his hips disappearing into loose black sweatpants slung just low enough to be dangerous.

 

His hair was a chaotic mess, sticking up in every direction, and his eyes — half-lidded from sleep — softened when they found me.

 

"Alora?" His voice was still husky from sleep, a low rumble that rolled through me in a way it absolutely shouldn't have.

 

"I couldn't sleep," I murmured, instantly aware of how absurd it sounded.

 

One corner of his mouth lifted into not quite a smirk, but not quite a smile either. It was something warmer. 

 

"Come in."

 

The bed was warm, the kind of warmth that sinks into you and doesn't let go. We lay facing each other to begin with, the glow from the window catching in his eyes, the space between us humming with unspoken things. My fingers itched to close that gap, and every time his gaze flicked to my mouth, I was certain he'd do it first.

 

When I finally let my own eyes drop to his lips, he didn't hesitate. The kiss was slow at first — curious, like he was tasting the moment, but it deepened quickly. The hand he slid to the back of my neck drew me in until there was no space left between us.

 

When we broke apart, my forehead rested against his, both of us catching our breath.

 

"Just for tonight," I whispered, unsure if I was trying to convince him... or myself.

 

He didn't answer.

 

He just pulled me closer — one arm wrapped low around my waist, the other curling protectively at the base of my spine. His chest pressed against mine, all warm skin and steady heartbeat, and I let out a slow, shaky breath I didn't know I'd been holding.

 

For a moment, that was enough.

 

But then he shifted.

 

Just a little — just enough for the soft brush of his thigh to slot between mine, and suddenly every nerve in my body lit up like Christmas lights. My breath hitched. I could feel every inch of him — the heat of his bare skin against mine, the brush of his hip bones where my jumper had ridden up.

 

I felt him pause too.

 

Like he'd noticed the way I tensed. The way my hand, resting lightly against his ribs, suddenly curled into his side. The room was silent but for the sound of our breathing, suddenly uneven and very, very aware.

 

He didn't pull away.

 

Instead, his hand slid — slow, deliberate — down the curve of my back until it rested just above the waistband of my sleep shorts. His fingers splayed there, warm and steady, holding me like I might vanish.

 

"Is this okay?" he murmured, voice low, soft, dangerous.

 

God, he was going to ruin me.

 

I nodded before I could think.

 

"Yeah," I breathed. "I just—"

 

I didn't finish the sentence. I didn't need to.

 

His nose brushed mine as he leaned in again, this kiss deeper than the first — darker, more certain. There was no hesitation this time, just the kind of desperation that had been simmering between us for weeks, waiting to break the surface.

 

His hand was already under my jumper — warm, familiar, greedy in the way only someone who's touched you before can be. His thumb brushed over my ribs, slow and certain, like he knew exactly where I was most ticklish. Where I melted. Where I sighed without meaning to.

 

Because he did.

 

We'd done this before.

 

Not in some hazy fantasy or far-off dream — this year. In the Undercroft. In a haze of whispered spells and breathless want, when he couldn't stand to be apart from me for more than a minute. When he looked at me like I was the only real thing in the world.

 

He remembered that.

 

His mouth found mine again, hungrier this time, and I gasped against him when his body settled over mine. Everything about it felt maddeningly familiar — the weight of him, the rhythm of his kiss, the heat of his breath against my jaw.

 

Gods, it was too easy to fall back into this. Like we hadn't been torn apart. Like the mess of Samantha and Hector and everything in between had never happened.

 

He groaned when my hand tangled in his hair, low and ragged like it had been ripped from his chest. He kissed me deeper, harder, his hips pressing into mine with purpose, and my legs parted for him without thinking.

 

"Fuck," he whispered, dragging his lips down my throat, "I've missed this."

 

A whimper escaped me — not from the pleasure. From the ache.

 

Because he remembered this — the touches, the way we fit, the sound I made when he bit just beneath my ear.

 

But he didn't remember the first time he told me he loved me.

 

He didn't remember falling asleep with his hand curled around mine in a quiet field outside Hogsmeade. Or giving me the necklace I still wore.

 

I blinked up at him now, chest rising and falling beneath his, my fingers trembling where they gripped his shoulders. He was right here. He wanted me. And I wanted him back so badly it made my lungs hurt.

 

But if I let this happen again — if I gave in now, knowing he still didn't have the whole truth — I was no better than the girl who let him believe she was someone new.

 

My hand slid up his chest, palm flat over his heart. He stilled.

 

"Sebastian," I whispered, voice barely audible. "Wait."

 

His breath caught. 

 

"Did I hurt you?"

"No," I said quickly, shaking my head. "No, not at all. I just..."

 

I couldn't find the words. I already love you, and you don't even know it didn't quite roll off the tongue.

 

He leaned back just enough to look at me, eyes dark and confused. 

 

"You don't want to?"

"I do." The words fell out fast. Too fast. "I do — I just... I can't. Not like this."

 

His brow furrowed, the heat in his eyes replaced by something softer. Something uncertain.

 

"You're shaking," he said gently, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Is something wrong?"

 

You don't remember me.

 

You don't remember us.

 

And I'm scared if you do, it'll destroy you all over again.

 

"I just need to stop," I whispered. "Please."

 

He didn't argue. Didn't press. He just kissed my forehead once, softly, like the kiss itself could erase the disappointment bleeding into the air between us.

 

Then he lay back down and pulled me into his arms anyway.

 

He didn't ask for more. He didn't need to.

 

He just held me.

 

And god, I let him.

 

Because I was still his — even if he didn't know it yet.

 

————————————————

 

The bed was cold when I woke up.

 

Not empty — not like that. I could still feel where he'd been. The shape of his body pressed into the mattress beside me. The scent of him on the pillow. The warmth still lingering in the sheets like a fading spell.

 

He'd held me all night.

 

And then he'd left.

 

I curled my fingers into the blanket, blinking up at the ceiling, trying to steady the way my chest ached. Last night still clung to my skin like mist — the kisses, the heat, the ache that lived somewhere between want and guilt. I had almost let him have me again.

 

I'd wanted to.

 

But I'd stopped it — not because I didn't want him, but because I did.

 

And he didn't remember why that mattered.

 

He didn't remember the first time. The necklace. The boy who whispered that I was the only real thing he'd ever known.

 

Now he was falling for me again without knowing he'd already done it once. And I was the only one who knew both versions.

 

It was enough to drive anyone mad.

 

I slipped on my cardigan and crept down the stairs, floorboards creaking underfoot. The air was warm and smelled like cinnamon and roasting herbs, and I could hear the low murmur of voices — Sebastian and Ominis. The sound grounded me and pulled me in all at once.

 

The fire was already lit. Ominis sat on the sofa, legs curled beneath him, a mug of tea balanced on his knee like he'd been born with perfect posture.

 

And Sebastian?

 

Sebastian was in the kitchen, shirtless, barefoot, and wearing a checked apron tied around his waist with all the effort of someone who'd lost the plot but made it fashion.

 

He turned as I stepped into view, like he'd felt me arrive.

 

"Merry Christmas," he said — low, warm, and entirely too flirtatious for before breakfast.

 

I froze.

 

Because... fuck.

 

The way his hair was tousled. The way the apron strings cinched at his back. The fact that he had no business looking that good while waving a wooden spoon in one hand and levitating potatoes in the other.

 

"You too," I said, which felt like a pathetic offering compared to the way he'd said it.

 

Ominis made a noise like he wanted to die.

 

"I'm making the roast," Sebastian added, turning back toward the oven, wand twirling lazily through the air as herbs rained down into the pan. 

 

"Do try not to faint."

 

I blinked. 

 

"You cook now?"

 

Sebastian looked over his shoulder and grinned.

 

"I do a lot of things. Most of them very well."

 

I had to look away before I melted into the rug.

 

We exchanged presents under the tree with our backs to the fire and our hearts doing strange, quiet things inside our chests.

 

Ominis handed me his first — a small, flat box, neatly wrapped with crisp folds and silver paper. Of course. Perfect as always.

 

Inside was a locket. Black velvet chain. A constellation carved into the front — Lepus. The hare.

 

And when I opened it, a tiny enchanted scroll unrolled itself inside the frame.

 

For when you feel lost. So you always find your way back.

— O

 

I didn't speak. I just hugged him.

 

Sebastian's gift was next.

 

His wrapping job was a mess — paper wrinkled, ribbon charmed into submission, one corner already coming loose.

 

Inside was a book. Green thread stitched along the spine. My initials carved into the corner like he'd done it with his wand and too much time on his hands.

 

The first page had his handwriting.

 

For the stories you don't want to tell anyone else. Or the ones you're not ready to tell yet.

— S

 

I traced the letters with my thumb, chest too full. My voice caught somewhere in the back of my throat.

 

"Thank you," I said finally, and it felt like too small a word for what he'd given me.

 

He gave a crooked shrug, gaze flicking toward the fire. 

 

"Figured you needed somewhere to put all the things you're not saying."

 

Gods, he had no idea how close that landed.

 

I gave Ominis his gift next — a dark blue, leather-bound book, slim and elegant. Inside, engraved in enchanted words, was his favourite poetry collection. The one he quoted constantly without realising.

 

When he opened it and ran his hand across the cover, his expression changed — softened, like he wasn't used to being seen this clearly.

 

He didn't say anything at first. Just smiled, eyes full of something quiet and heavy.

 

"This is..." He cleared his throat. "It's perfect."

 

Then it was Sebastian's turn.

 

I handed him the small box, nervous in a way I hadn't been for the others.

 

Inside was a compass — old brass, polished until it gleamed. The underside was etched with a tiny 'S'. But when he tapped the lid, the arrow didn't point north.

 

It spun.

 

And stopped.

 

Always in the direction of home.

 

"It's charmed," I said. "To lead you to the thing you care about most."

 

Sebastian stared at it for a long moment, the kind of silence that said more than any words could. Then—

 

"...What if I don't know what that is?"

 

My voice barely held steady. 

 

"Then wait. You'll know when it matters."

 

He didn't thank me. He didn't need to.

 

He just looked at me like the answer might already be sitting in front of him.

 

There was a loud tap against the window, and Ominis groaned dramatically as three owls dropped into the room like it was a mail bomb.

 

Poppy's letter was wrapped in festive ribbon and covered in her looping handwriting.

 

I'M COMING TOMORROW!! Don't let Sebastian burn the house down. Alora, I have something for you and yes, you will cry. Merry Christmas my loves. x

 

Violet's letter exploded in glitter, and Gareth's folded mess of a card read:

 

Still alive. Happy Christmas. Don't get pregnant.

- G

 

Classic.

 

Sebastian snorted. 

 

"Touching."

 

I tucked the scrolls into the side table, heart full and aching. Everything felt soft for a second. Like we were just three friends, warm and safe and far away from the things that usually haunted us.

 

Until I looked up.

 

I was picking up scraps of ribbon when I saw it. On the mantel. Old. A little dusty. A photo frame.

 

Inside it, Solomon. Smiling. Alive.

 

My stomach dropped like someone had cast a trapdoor beneath my feet.

 

"That's my uncle," Sebastian said from behind me, completely casual. "Died of dragon pox."

 

I felt the floor shift beneath me.

 

Not literally — but in that subtle, unbearable way when the truth and the lie collide in front of your eyes. I gripped the edge of the fireplace, knuckles whitening, blood rushing in my ears.

 

Dragon pox.

 

Right. That's what they'd told him. That's the memory they'd replaced it with. Not the green flash. Not the scream.

 

Ominis was already watching me.

 

His expression didn't change, but I felt his voice in my head like a whisper:

 

Keep it together, Alora.

 

So I did. Barely.

 

I stepped back. Said nothing. And smiled like my lungs weren't burning.

 

"I'm starving," Ominis declared, standing abruptly and stretching. "If you don't start that roast, Sallow, I'll hex your apron off."

 

"Not in front of the Christmas tree," I muttered, laughing.

 

Sebastian grinned and sauntered into the kitchen. 

 

"Okayyy i’m cooking."

 

I followed, partly because I was hungry — partly because I needed to breathe.

 

Sebastian rolled up his sleeves, tossed herbs into a levitating pan, and stirred the gravy with the cocky confidence of someone who didn't know what a measuring spoon was. He looked absurd. And gorgeous.

 

"What?" he asked, catching me staring.

 

"You're really leaning into the house-husband aesthetic," I said, arching a brow.

 

He winked. 

 

"Don't act like you're not thinking about it."

 

I absolutely was.

 

He turned back to the roast, humming under his breath, and I leaned against the counter beside him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his skin.

 

And for a little while — just until the potatoes were golden and the kitchen smelled like everything I'd ever wanted — I let myself pretend this was what our life looked like.

 

Like we hadn't broken each other first.

 

————————————————

 

The roast was perfect.

 

Of course it was. Sebastian wouldn't have let it be anything less — not with the way he'd been strutting around the kitchen like some cocky domestic deity.

 

But as we all sat around Solomon's old table, plates full, drinks poured, laughter echoing off the beams...

 

I couldn't shake the feeling.

 

It was like the walls were watching me.

 

Every creak of the floorboards, every scratch of cutlery against ceramic — it all felt too loud. Like we were disturbing something. Or someone.

 

I glanced at the chair Sebastian sat in — relaxed, shoulders loose, grin slanted sideways as Ominis mocked his Yorkshire puddings. And I wondered, not for the first time, if Solomon had ever sat exactly like that. If he'd carved that same groove into the table with the edge of his fork. If he'd smiled like that before everything went wrong.

 

It was so normal. So warm. So easy.

 

And it made my skin itch.

 

Because it wasn't normal. Not really.

 

The last time I'd been here, Solomon had died in the catacombs. And I had let it happen.

 

Now here we were. Pretending.

 

My glass was already half-empty before the roast had disappeared. I didn't remember drinking it.

 

Sebastian refilled it without asking, sliding it across the table with two fingers and a look I couldn't read.

 

"Don't go soft on me now, Winters," he said, voice low and teasing. "We still haven't opened the pudding."

 

"You're the pudding," I muttered, and Ominis choked on his water.

 

Sebastian raised a brow. "Not denying it."

 

The music changed after dinner — Ominis charmed the phonograph to spin through old holiday jazz, scratchy and sweet, while we moved the armchairs aside and turned the living room into a makeshift dance floor.

 

Ominis refused to dance, of course. 

 

"I'd rather kiss a Dementor," he said when Sebastian offered him a hand.

 

So he sat cross-legged by the fire with another drink, smirking into his mug as Sebastian turned to me and held out a hand.

 

"Well?" he said.

 

I looked at him. Looked at his hand. His mouth. The soft curl of hair at the nape of his neck.

 

"I'm not drunk enough for this."

 

"You will be," he said, winking.

 

He pulled me in — one hand at my waist, the other guiding mine lazily through the air. He was warm. Too warm. His fingers splayed wide, pulling me close enough that I could feel every point of contact.

 

It wasn't a formal dance. Not even close. We swayed. Laughed. He spun me once, twice, and I nearly tripped over the rug, landing chest-first against him.

 

"Careful," he murmured, breath ghosting my cheek. "Can't have you falling for me."

 

"I already did," I said before I could stop myself.

 

His smile faded. Just slightly. But it did.

 

And then his hand slid lower, settling at the small of my back, and we swayed again — slower now. Less joking. More... something else.

 

I caught Ominis's expression in the corner — a knowing tilt of the head, the tiniest of smirks.

 

He stood without a word and left the room.

 

Because he knew.

 

He always knew.

 

————————————————

 

I didn't mean to follow him.

 

I wasn't looking for anything. Not really.

 

Just another drink. Or some air. Or a reason to not think about how badly I wanted him.

 

But my feet moved on their own, and then we were in the hallway.

 

Me. Him. And way too many memories I hadn't asked for.

 

Sebastian had another drink in his hand — his third or fourth or... something — and he was swaying slightly as he leaned against the wall, all smug and flushed and dangerous.

 

I stopped a few feet away, arms folded tight against my chest, trying to seem less drunk than I was.

 

"You're staring," I said, lips twitching.

 

He didn't blink. 

 

"You're glowing."

 

"Oh, don't start—"

 

"I mean it." He pushed off the wall, slow and lazy and loose with wine. "You look like you belong here. Like this house finally has something warm in it."

 

"That's the whiskey."

 

"It's you," he said, voice rougher now. "You're... gods, you're everything."

 

I swallowed too hard.

 

He wasn't supposed to say that.

 

Not with that tone. Not with that face. Not with Solomon's photo frame still sitting quietly in the other room like a loaded gun I hadn't touched.

 

"Sebastian..." I warned, though it sounded more like a prayer than a threat.

 

He stepped closer.

 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked, heat rising up my neck.

 

"Like what?"

 

"Like you know what I'm thinking."

 

"Because I do."

 

My breath hitched.

 

He was close now. Too close. One more step and I'd be able to smell the cinnamon on his breath.

 

"Tell me," he said. "Tell me what you're thinking."

 

"That you're too drunk to remember this in the morning."

 

"Try me."

 

I let the silence stretch until it was painful. Until I saw the shift in his eyes — from teasing to something deeper.

 

"You first," I said.

 

He laughed, low and wrecked, scrubbing a hand over his face. 

 

"Fuck. Alora."

 

I leaned against the opposite wall, mirroring him, heart in my throat. 

 

"You always swear when you're nervous."

 

He tilted his head. "I'm not nervous."

 

"You're not?"

 

"I'm—" He stopped. Shook his head like he was trying to reset himself. "No. I'm just... tired of pretending."

 

"Pretending what?"

 

"That I don't still want you every time I walk into a room."

 

The breath left my lungs.

 

We just stared at each other. A beat too long. A breath too loud.

 

Then he laughed again — broken this time — and stepped toward me, one hand rising to press against the wall beside my head. Not caging me in. Not pinning me. Just there.

 

"I think about it all the time," he said quietly. "You. That night. Your mouth. The way you sounded when I—"

 

"Sebastian—"

 

"No, let me—" he said, half-drunk and fully unravelled. "Let me say it."

 

His eyes were dark and wide and devastated. Like he was holding onto something he didn't understand.

 

"You haunt me, Alora," he whispered. "Even when you're right fucking here."

 

My knees nearly gave out.

 

I reached for him — whether to stop him or touch him or pull him in, I wasn't sure — but it didn't matter.

 

Because he was already kissing me.

 

It wasn't slow this time.

 

It wasn't careful.

 

It was hungry and messy and so drunk it hurt, his hands sliding into my hair, tugging just enough to make me gasp. His mouth crashed into mine like we'd already lost each other and were trying to claw our way back.

 

I moaned into it. I didn't mean to — it just happened. The second his hips pressed into mine, the second his hand found the curve of my waist beneath my jumper, it all came flooding back.

 

The Undercroft. The obsession. The way he'd gripped my thighs and whispered my name like it was a curse.

 

This wasn't like that.

 

But it still felt like drowning.

 

He broke the kiss only to press another one to my jaw, then down my throat. I tilted my head, let him. My hands slid under the hem of his shirt, fingers splaying over his stomach, feeling the heat of him — too real, too familiar.

 

"Say stop," he muttered against my neck.

 

But I didn't.

 

I pulled him closer, chest against chest, breath ragged.

 

"I missed you," I whispered, words slurred with wine and something heavier.

 

His grip on me tightened. 

 

"Then don't leave again."

 

That hit something sharp. Deep.

 

Because he didn't know I never left.

 

He just... forgot.

 

I kissed him again to make the ache go away.

 

It didn't work.

 

We stumbled, laughing into each other, until my back hit the corridor wall and he pressed into me fully — hands at my hips, mouth dragging against mine like he couldn't get close enough.

 

One hand slid up beneath my jumper — warm palm against bare skin — and I gasped as his fingers danced over my ribs.

 

"Not here," I said breathlessly. "Ominis will hear."

 

"He already left for bed," Sebastian muttered. "He knows. He always knows."

 

God.

 

I was going to let him do this. Right here, in Solomon's house, on Christmas night.

 

But then...

 

Then his hand brushed the chain of the necklace around my throat.

 

He stilled.

 

He didn't move his hand — just held it there, against the glowing charm he didn't even realise he'd given me.

 

"Sebastian," I said, breath shallow, "we can't—"

 

He leaned in again, pressed his forehead to mine.

 

"I know," he whispered. "I know."

 

But he kissed me again anyway.

 

Slower this time. Sweeter. His hand stayed curled at my waist. My eyes stung, and I didn't know why.

 

We didn't go further.

 

But we didn't go back.

 

We stood there for a long time — pressed together in the quiet, half-drunk, heart-thudding silence — until he finally pulled away and whispered:

 

"Merry Christmas, Alora."

 

And I whispered back:

 

"Merry Christmas, Sebastian"

Chapter 46: Thin Ice

I woke to the faint crackle of the fire still burning low downstairs, the warmth of it somehow seeping up through the floorboards and into the narrow little bedroom. Morning light stretched pale across the ceiling, brushing the edges of the blanket tangled around me. My head felt a touch heavy from the firewhisky the night before, but not unpleasantly so—just enough to remind me that last night had been...different.

 

Christmas in Feldcroft. Laughing until my stomach hurt, dancing clumsily in Solomon's old sitting room, Sebastian spinning me around until we nearly collided with the hearth. And then, later—the brush of lips and breath in the dark, too soft to name, too dangerous to linger on.

 

I pressed my face into the pillow. Dangerous indeed.

 

A soft knock rapped on the door.

 

 "Alora?"

 

I blinked, recognising Ominis's voice. I sat up quickly, fingers smoothing down my sleep-mussed hair. 

 

"Yes?"

 

The door cracked open just slightly, his pale face half-lit by the morning. 

 

"You're awake. Good. She'll be here soon."

 

"She?" I echoed, though I already knew.

 

"Poppy." His voice carried a thread of nerves, rare for Ominis. His posture was careful, almost stiff.

 

 "Remember she owled me last night. Said she was bringing breakfast. I...thought it best you weren't startled by her turning up."

 

I smiled despite the heaviness still lodged in my chest. 

 

"You're nervous."

 

A faint flush rose across his cheekbones, though he tried to disguise it by straightening his collar. 

 

"Don't be absurd. I'm simply...anticipating."

 

"Mmhm." I drew out the sound, amused, and climbed from bed. "Well, don't worry, I'll make sure not to embarrass you."

 

"You already do that by existing," he muttered, but his lips quirked as he shut the door.

 

By the time I padded downstairs, Feldcroft smelled faintly of ash and cinnamon, the remnants of yesterday's feast still lingering in the air. Sebastian was slumped in a chair by the fire, hair sticking up every which way, eyes half-lidded. He looked thoroughly disheveled and thoroughly unfair in that way only he could manage.

 

"You're alive, then," I teased, slipping past him to the kitchen counter.

 

"Barely," he muttered, rubbing his temples. 

 

"I think I wanted to play some ridiculous Muggle game with you and Ominis last night. Cards? Dice?"

 

"Snap," I reminded him with a grin. "Good job we didn't, you would have lost spectacularly."

 

"Tragic." He yawned, stretching, and for a flicker of a moment his gaze lingered on me—longer than it should have. My breath caught, but before either of us could say anything, a sharp knock rattled the door.

 

Ominis nearly tripped over himself in his rush to answer it.

 

And then she was there—Poppy Sweeting, framed in the doorway like a burst of sunlight. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, raven hair tucked under a woollen cap. She held a paper parcel cradled to her chest, the smell of buttery sugar wafting instantly through the room.

 

"Merry Christmas—well, belated Christmas!" she greeted brightly, stepping inside. "I brought pastries! The baker in Upper Hogsfield had them fresh this morning, and I thought—well, who can say no to honey buns?"

 

Sebastian's head lifted at that, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. 

 

"You had me at honey."

 

"Don't encourage him," Ominis warned under his breath, but his expression softened as Poppy leaned up to kiss his cheek. His nerves melted in an instant, replaced with the kind of ease I'd only ever seen in her presence. It was...strangely endearing.

 

We gathered around the worn table, Sebastian already tearing into one of the pastries while Poppy began to chatter. She painted vivid pictures of her grandmother's cottage, decked in holly and charm-lit candles, of the little Christmas she'd shared with the old woman who raised her.

 

"Gran insisted on making plum pudding, even though it's far too much effort for her," Poppy said, eyes sparkling. "I offered to help, of course, but she shooed me off and said I'd only make a mess. Then she told me to go check on the Kneazle kittens instead. She knows me too well."

 

"You adore that woman," I said softly, not as a question but a fact.

 

Her smile gentled, fond and warm. 

 

"She's all I have. Well—she and the beasts. And you lot, I suppose."

 

"You suppose?" Ominis's voice carried a note of playful offense.

 

Poppy nudged him with her elbow. 

 

"You know what I mean. It's just...after everything with my parents, it's easier to pretend they don't exist. They're still out there, hunting creatures, doing who-knows-what, and I want nothing to do with it. Gran's different. She's always been different."

 

Silence lapped for a moment, her words hanging heavier than she likely intended. I caught Sebastian's gaze flicking toward me—sharp, searching—but he said nothing, only chewed thoughtfully on his pastry.

 

To break the tension, Poppy reached for the satchel slung over her shoulder. 

 

"Anyway! Gifts. I brought some things for you all."

 

"Poppy, you didn't have to—" Ominis began, but she cut him off with a grin.

 

"Nonsense. It's Christmas. Well, Boxing Day, but close enough." 

 

She pulled out three little wrapped parcels, each tied with twine and sprigs of holly. She slid one toward Ominis first.

 

His hands fumbled with the paper, but his fingers steadied as he neatly untied the string. Inside was a slim leather-bound journal.

 

"You said once you missed writing in something tangible," she explained softly. "I thought—well, maybe this would be nice."

 

Ominis's throat worked, silent for a moment too long. Finally, he murmured

 

"It's perfect. Thank you." His fingers brushed hers as he held it, and I looked away, suddenly intruding on something tender.

 

The second parcel landed in front of Sebastian. He arched a brow but unwrapped it nonetheless. Inside was a small glass vial of ink, shimmering faintly blue in the firelight.

 

"It's charmed," Poppy said quickly, as if embarrassed. "The ink won't ever smudge, even if you spill it. I thought...it might help, since you always seem to be scribbling on scraps of parchment."

 

Sebastian blinked, caught off guard. Then his grin curved slow and genuine. 

 

"Sweeting, you're making it difficult for me to keep up my reputation as a menace."

 

"That's because you don't need to be one all the time," she shot back.

 

And then there was my parcel. Smaller than the others, wrapped in plain brown paper. I hesitated before untying it, my stomach coiling oddly. Inside nestled a delicate enamel pin in the shape of a star, painted in soft shades of blue.

 

"I saw it at the market," Poppy said gently. "And it reminded me of you. You're...always looking up, Alora. Always chasing something beyond what the rest of us can see. I thought you should have a piece of the sky with you."

 

The weight in my chest threatened to cave me in, though I forced a smile. 

 

"It's beautiful, Poppy. Thank you."

 

Sebastian's gaze was on me again, unreadable this time, but heavy enough that I had to lower my eyes.

 

For a little while longer, we ate pastries and let Poppy's bright voice fill the cottage, her laughter weaving with Ominis's softer tones. It was warm, familiar, almost enough to make me forget the cracks beneath the surface. Almost.

 

—————————————

 

By the time the honey buns had dwindled to crumbs and Sebastian had all but licked the sugar from his fingers, Poppy was off again, words tumbling in her usual quick, excited way.

 

"...and the Kneazle kittens finally opened their eyes yesterday morning," she said, beaming. "Gran says she's never seen a litter so lively. One of them climbed straight up the curtains before I could stop him."

 

Sebastian chuckled under his breath, leaning back in his chair. 

 

"Sounds like a handful."

 

"You've no idea." Poppy laughed, then her expression softened. "But I don't mind. It's good to see something small and helpless grow into itself, isn't it?"

 

Her words landed somewhere deep, but I smoothed the ache from my chest with a sip of tea. She wasn't talking about me. Not really.

 

Poppy, oblivious to the shift in air, brightened again. 

 

"It reminds me, actually, of when we rescued that Hebridean Black. Do you remember, Alora?"

 

I nearly choked on the tea. My gaze snapped up, heart kicking. 

 

"Of course I remember."

 

Sebastian's brows furrowed. 

 

"You—what dragon?"

 

"The one in the winter of fifth year," Poppy said, eager now, her hands fluttering as though the story burned to be told. "There was this horrid poachers' ring, hidden away in tents bigger on the inside than the outside. They had an entire dragon chained up, poor thing, and they were betting on her fights."

 

She spoke quickly, vividly, pulling us into the memory whether we wanted to be dragged there or not. I remembered the smell of scorched canvas, the raw panic in my veins as I stood beneath the heaving shadow of the dragon's wings.

 

"We managed to sneak inside, though it was chaos," Poppy continued, her eyes shining. "All those men, drunk and jeering, tossing galleons on the ground. And the egg—oh, the egg was there too, locked in a cage like some trinket."

 

I swallowed, throat dry. Images pressed in at the edges of my mind: the dragon's eyes locking with mine, the terrifying trust I felt as I created an escape route for her, the weight of the egg warm and fragile in my arms.

 

Sebastian tilted his head, something hard flickering behind his expression. 

 

"I've heard that story," he said slowly. "Poppy, you told me about it in fifth year. Said you'd gone in with a friend from Beasts class. What was her name? Everleigh, or—?"

 

Poppy blinked, caught mid-memory. 

 

"What? No. It was Alora. She was with me."

 

Silence cracked across the room.

 

Ominis stiffened beside her, the tips of his fingers tightening around his teacup. My pulse thundered so loudly I thought surely they could hear it.

 

Sebastian stared at me, brow drawn, as though trying to force the puzzle pieces into place by sheer will. 

 

"In fifth year?"

 

"Yes, of course," Poppy said, confused by the sudden stillness. "Who else would it have been? Alora's the reason we made it out at all—she faced the dragon when no one else could. She was brilliant."

 

I wanted to disappear into the floorboards.

 

Sebastian's gaze didn't leave mine. It was sharp, searching, and unbearably heavy. Something in it screamed that he wanted to ask a hundred questions, but all that left his lips was a low

 

"Hm."

 

I forced myself to breathe. 

 

"You must have misremembered, Sebastian. It was a long time ago."

 

But he didn't look convinced. His jaw flexed, and his eyes narrowed just slightly, like he was tasting the lie on my tongue.

 

Poppy, mercifully oblivious, barrelled on with the tale. 

 

"We took the egg back to her, you know. A week or so later. It was freezing cold, snow up to our knees, but Alora and I made the trek together. The mother was waiting by the cliffs, roaring so loud it rattled my bones. I thought we were going to be burnt to ash. But when she saw the egg—oh, you should have seen it. She lowered her head, right down in front of us. It was...breathtaking."

 

Her voice softened at the memory, almost reverent. 

 

"I think that's the first time I truly believed we could change things for magical creatures. That we could make a difference. And it was because of you, Alora."

 

My cheeks burned. 

 

"Poppy—"

 

"No, it's true," she insisted. "You've always been braver than the rest of us. I wouldn't have stepped foot near that tent if it weren't for you."

 

Ominis's hand brushed against hers under the table, a quiet reminder to stop. She glanced at him, puzzled, but fell silent.

 

The air was thick now, humming with something unsaid. Sebastian leaned back in his chair, his eyes still pinned to me, as if he could dig through skin and bone to pull the truth out. His fingers tapped once against the table, slow and deliberate.

 

But then he smiled. Too sharp. Too easy. 

 

"Well. That's quite the tale."

 

"It's not a tale," Poppy said, frowning. "It happened."

 

"Mm," Sebastian hummed, standing to fetch another pastry. "Dragons and heroes. Very festive."

 

The dismissal was casual, but I could feel the weight of the question lingering in his silence.

 

Poppy, unbothered, had already moved on. 

 

"Do you remember the Snidgets, Alora? That summer in the woods when Doran asked for our help?"

 

My heart thudded. Not again.

 

"The Ministry was hunting them to extinction," she said passionately. "Horrid men with nets and spells at the ready. We found them in a clearing, tiny golden things, their wings glittering in the sun. We protected them—remember the wards you cast, Alora? They shimmered like glass in the air. I thought it was the most beautiful magic I'd ever seen."

 

I swallowed hard. 

 

"Yes. I remember."

 

Sebastian froze mid-bite. His gaze snapped to me again, unreadable, but filled with something that made my stomach twist. Recognition? Suspicion? Both?

 

I couldn't bear it. I pushed back from the table, forcing a smile. 

 

"I'll fetch more tea. Anyone want some?"

 

They answered, but I barely heard. My hands shook as I filled the kettle, eyes fixed firmly on the hearth instead of the boy whose stare burned holes in my back.

 

—————————————

 

Poppy was halfway through describing a Kneazle's favourite sun-spot when she jolted upright and said, 

 

"Oh! Ominis, you said there were sheep near the old well? And cows on the ridge?"

 

Ominis set his teacup down, the faintest smile tugging at his mouth. 

 

"There are. The farmer keeps them beyond the stone stile, past the hawthorns. If you want to freeze your nose off, I'm happy to oblige."

 

Poppy's eyes went bright. 

 

"Please."

 

He offered his arm; her fingers fitted neatly into the crook of his elbow. 

 

"Back soon," he said to the room, which was mostly me and Sebastian pretending not to be listening. "Try not to set the cottage on fire."

 

"I make no promises," Sebastian murmured, lazy as smoke.

 

They bundled themselves in scarves and laughter and were gone, the door pulling a winter draught across my ankles. Quiet fell—only the fire ticking and the distant bleat of something soft-headed beyond the fields.

 

I stood, gathering plates because it was something to do with my hands. Honey and sugar had crystallised on the wooden table; crumbs glittered like salt. I dampened a cloth and wiped slow circles until the wood gained back its warm sheen. The kettle puffed anxiously on the hob; I flicked my wand and it settled. If I kept moving, the feeling in my chest—tight, scraping—couldn't catch me.

 

From the doorway, a chair scraped. I didn't look up. 

 

"If you're going to nick another pastry," I said lightly, "at least pretend to feel guilty about it."

 

Footsteps drifted in, unhurried. 

 

"I never pretend," Sebastian said, voice low and amused. "I'm obnoxiously honest. It's one of my better qualities."

 

"Is it."

 

"Mm. Second only to my humility."

 

I set a plate on the stack a bit too sharply. Porcelain clinked. His reflection hummed in the copper of the kettle—dark hair, half-buttoned shirt from earlier, the look of someone who'd slept and didn't quite intend to behave now that he was awake.

 

He stopped a breath behind me. The tiny hairs at the back of my neck lifted like they'd been summoned.

 

"Those," he said, closer, "were quite the stories."

 

I took a measured breath. 

 

"Poppy likes telling them."

 

"She does." The counter pressed into my hips; his heat pressed into my back. "Funny thing, though. I could've sworn I remembered that dragon tale differently. Thought you said nothing to me in fifth year"

 

"Maybe." I kept wiping. The cloth tugged at the sticky honey and came away sweet. "Dragons make people dramatic."

 

He made a quiet sound that wasn't quite a laugh. 

 

"Didn't know you were a hero, Winters."

 

You have no idea.

 

The thought burst bright, furious, and then I smoothed it flat. I rinsed the cloth, wrung it out, watched water stripe the sink. 

 

"I'm not," I said, almost conversational. "Poppy's generous with adjectives."

 

He didn't buy it. I heard it in the way he shifted, in the faint rasp of his sleeve as he leaned his forearms on either side of me, caging me without touching. My breath snagged.

 

"What I heard," he murmured, mouth near my ear, "back then, was that a girl and Poppy Sweeting did something spectacular and stupid and somehow lived. What I filed away, apparently, is that it wasn't you." His nose almost brushed my hair; my heartbeat lined up with the kettle's soft hiss. "I'm starting to suspect I filed away the wrong things."

 

"Memory is slippery," I said, and hated how steady it wasn't.

 

"Mine shouldn't be."

 

I put the cloth down. My hand shook once, treacherous; I hid it in the dish-towel and reached for a plate. He caught my wrist, not hard—just enough that heat leapt to my skin, a spark finding kindling. The movement spun me half-around until I was facing him.

 

His eyes were very close, very dark in the winter light. 

 

"Leave it," he said, barely above a whisper. "The plates can wait."

 

"I like tidy things."

 

"I've noticed," he said, and his gaze flicked to my mouth before it came back, unrepentant. 

 

"Tell me something, Alora."

 

"You seem to have plenty of theories of your own."

 

"I do." His thumb moved—an absent stroke beneath my wrist bone that made it difficult to think in complete sentences. 

 

"But I'd rather hear it from you."

 

"There's nothing to—"

 

"Don't," he said softly, and it wasn't sharp, not the way he could be when he wanted a fight. It was almost gentle, which was worse. 

 

"Don't feed me a line you don't believe."

 

The cottage concentrated itself into small things: the crack of a settling log; the chalk dust of winter light on the floorboards; our breaths, syncing badly. His presence narrowed the distance until it felt like the whole world had shrunk to the space between our mouths.

 

He inched closer. The table pressed at my spine now; I'd somehow stepped backward without noticing. The star pin Poppy had given me glinted at my collarbone; beneath it, the green gemstone of my necklace warmed—just a degree, just enough that I felt it rather than saw it. A nerve lit under my skin. Not now.

 

Sebastian's gaze flicked down. Brief, sharp, lingering just long enough on the necklace that I knew he'd noticed. His eyes narrowed slightly, a thought passing behind them, but he said nothing.

 

I tucked the pendant quickly beneath my jumper, pretending it was absent-minded, though my fingers shook faintly against the chain. When I glanced back up, his eyes were on mine again—dark, unreadable, as if the necklace hadn't caught his attention at all.

 

But I knew better.

 

"Tell me," he said again, quieter. "Did we know each other before this year? Properly, I mean."

 

Air left my lungs in a single betraying rush. 

 

"We—" I groped for a safer word and found nothing. "We...knew of each other."

 

"That's not what Poppy's stories sound like."

 

"She likes to make things brighter than they were."

 

"And you like to make them dim," he murmured. "Why?"

 

Because if you see me clearly, everything breaks. Because if you remember, it will ruin you. Because a boy with a second heart beating behind his ribs shouldn't have to hear what it used to be called.

 

I swallowed. 

 

"Because it's easier."

 

"For who?"

 

"For everyone."

 

He watched me for a long heartbeat. The sharpness in him—always there, always honed—shifted into something else: a flare of frustration, yes, but also hunger, but also...hurt? It flashed and was gone before I could name it.

 

He eased his hold on my wrist, but didn't let go. 

 

"You're good at dodging," he said. "I'm better at persistence."

 

"That sounds like a threat."

 

"A promise."

 

The corner of my mouth twitched, traitorously. 

 

"Arrogant."

 

"Honest," he corrected, and leaned in. 

 

The world snapped to a single bright wire. My hand curled in his shirt without permission; the fabric was warm from his body, soft from too many wearings. I felt the rise of his chest beneath my knuckles; felt the way his breath changed when I gripped, just a little.

 

"Sebastian," I said, and it was meant to be a warning and came out like an invocation.

 

He stilled, close enough to count the faint sun-freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose. 

 

"Tell me to stop," he said, and he meant it. The knowledge clanged against something fragile inside me.

 

I could. I should.

 

Down the lane, a distant shout lifted—Poppy's laugh, bright and ringing. The cottage remembered itself; the air unspooled by a thread.

 

I exhaled and eased my fingers from his shirt. It felt like undoing a charm. 

 

"We'll burn the honey buns if we don't reheat them properly," I said, the sentence absurd and therefore safe.

 

He blinked once, the spell shivering. Then he smiled in that lazy, wicked way that had got us both into trouble before. 

 

"Tragic," he murmured, stepping back half an inch; it felt like a mile. "Wouldn't want to dishonour Sweeting's pastry diplomacy."

 

He didn't move far. His hand trailed down my wrist and let go with a reluctant brush, as if the simplest part of him disagreed with the rest. The necklace at my throat cooled to ordinary metal. He noticed nothing—or pretended to. I wasn't sure which frightened me more.

 

"Alora." My name in his mouth wasn't a question, but the end of one.

 

"Yes?"

 

He tilted his head, studying me like a map he was beginning to recognise. 

 

"If there's something I'm missing," he said, almost light, "I'll figure it out."

 

"You're welcome to try," I said, and my voice held steady this time.

 

He grinned, but the humour didn't quite hide the edge. 

 

"Oh, I intend to."

 

Boots scuffed outside; a sheep bleated indignantly. Poppy's chatter approached, Ominis's lower murmur smoothing its edges. I grabbed the plate stack like I'd been doing it the entire time and turned to the sink, the world arranging itself around ordinary movement. Sebastian stepped aside, hands sliding into his pockets, and the space he left behind felt like a bruise.

 

The door swung; cold air and Poppy tumbled in together. 

 

"You'll never believe it," she announced, cheeks cherry-bright. "One of the lambs thinks Ominis is its mother."

 

"I'm flattered," Ominis said dryly, shaking snow from his scarf. "I don't intend to nurse."

 

"Coward," Poppy teased, then looked between me and Sebastian with open curiosity. "Did you two behave?"

 

"Always," Sebastian said smoothly, without taking his eyes off me. "We were just discussing heroes."

 

"Ugh, don't," Poppy huffed, setting a paper bag on the table. "Alora hates praise. Here—bribery." She fished out two more honey buns, triumphant. "Round two."

 

"Perfect," I said, and hoped my smile didn't look like a defence.

 

Ominis's head tilted, the way it did when he felt something he couldn't see. 

 

"Everything all right?"

 

"Fine," I said too quickly.

 

"Fine," Sebastian echoed, exactly as quick. Our eyes caught; something dangerous and inevitable sparked between us, a fuse already lit.

 

Poppy missed it, busy cutting the buns in half with a butter knife. 

 

"We should go for a proper walk after this," she said. "There's a dip in the field where the ground stays icy all day—it shines like glass. Alora, you'll love it."

 

"I bet she will," Sebastian said, and it was nothing, and it was everything.

 

I set the last plate in the rack. Honey shimmered on my fingertips. Behind my ribs, the second heart I never admitted to thudded once, hard enough to hurt.

 

Outside, the sky was a pit of pale blue, so clear you could pretend it had answers if you looked long enough. Inside, the cottage hummed with warmth and secrets, and I stood very still, steadying myself against both.

 

—————————————

 

We didn't make it twenty paces past the cottage before Poppy decided winter was the best thing that had ever happened to Feldcroft.

 

"Look at the hedges!" she gasped, which was very Poppy; every hedge was a miracle, every frost-laced thistle a blessing. She touched a branch and it shook crystals onto her gloves. "It's like the whole place exhaled and turned to glass."

 

Ominis walked with his wand light pressed to the path like a guide, finding the edges by sound—the crisp crumble of old snow, the muffled give where the lane had drifted. He knew the route by memory already, the old habit of counting paces, the faint hum of magic he used to map space. 

 

"Careful of the verge," he said. "There's a ditch. Two steps to your left, Poppy."

 

She obeyed without thinking, as though his voice was a hand held out. 

 

"You're very good at this."

 

"Years of practice not dying," he said dryly.

 

Sebastian fell into step on my other side, hands buried in his pockets, collar turned up against the pale wind. The sky had scrubbed itself clear—a thin, cold blue that made everything feel honest. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. His attention pressed the side of my face like sunlight through glass.

 

Fields opened beyond the stone stile, furred with frost. Sheep crowded in a far corner like a lump of breathing clouds; beyond them, brown-and-white cows stood with the patience of very old gods, chewing slowly at nothing. The air carried the clean smell of trampled snow and the faintest thread of smoke from the cottage chimney.

 

Poppy pointed out everything: a fox print scalloped along the hedgerow; a rook thrumming on a fencepost; the dip in the back meadow where the ground shadowed itself all day and kept its shine. 

 

"There," she said, delighted, and tugged Ominis toward it. "The ice."

 

The dip was shallow, a low bowl of field where water had gathered and made a sheet like spun sugar. It glimmered under the pale sun, a mirror laid wrong-side-up. My boots creaked as I came near; the sound made the hairs on my arms lift.

 

"Let's not break our necks," Ominis warned, listening to the slick whisper of it. "Edges only."

 

Poppy hummed agreement and then, very simply, bent down and rolled the first snowball.

 

It hit Ominis square in the shoulder with a satisfying thud.

 

He stopped. 

 

"You didn't."

 

Her giggle was pure mischief. 

 

"Oh, I did."

 

He turned his head, smile threatening, and flicked his wand in a small, precise motion. The drift beside her stirred and patted itself into a neat orb midair. It hovered, considerate, and then—guided by his aim and that strange way he reads the world without seeing it—zipped around and tapped the top of her hat.

 

Poppy shrieked, laughing, and scooped two more by hand. 

 

"Truce?" she called, irreparably cheerful.

 

"I've never honoured one of those," Sebastian said, already stooping. The ball he formed was tidy and lethal. He weighed it, glanced at me once, and let fly.

 

It caught my sleeve and shattered down my arm. Cold burst up under my coat.

 

"Absolutely not," I said, and packed my own.

 

The next minutes dissolved into a blur of white and sound. Poppy's laughter pealed across the field; Ominis's could be heard under it, lower, surprised. He couldn't see the snowballs coming, but he heard the rip of air, the quick shift of weight before a throw, the softedged grunt people make when they've decided to be trouble. His wandwork was viciously accurate—small charms that coaxed snow up in lazy orbits, then sent them homing for Poppy's knees at the last second. She squealed and returned fire, calling him a menace with all the love in the world.

 

Sebastian was fast, of course. He cut angles in the drifts, boots sure in a way that made me want to trip him—just to prove he bled like everyone else. We paired off without deciding to: Poppy and Ominis in their own orbit, me and Sebastian in ours.

 

"Coward!" I called, as my throw sailed just past his shoulder.

 

"Strategist," he returned, ducking behind a hawthorn stump and lobbing one from cover. It caught my hip with a cold smack that made me gasp. He heard it and grinned, all teeth. 

 

"Better aim, Winters."

 

I scooped; he lunged. The ball shattered in my hand, powder blowing up into my face. I wiped my mouth with the back of my glove and went for him anyway, catching a corner of his coat and stuffing snow down the neck before he could catch my wrist.

 

He did catch it, of course. His fingers wrapped warm and sure, and the sudden stillness felt louder than the fight. We were too close. Snow feathered in his hair; a smear of white streaked his jaw where I'd grazed him. My breath clouded the inch of air between us, then broke against his scarf.

 

"Dirty," he said softly, but he sounded impressed.

 

"You started it."

 

"That sounds like me." He didn't let go. His eyes were bright in the cold, pupils wide against the pale day, and the look he gave me wasn't a look you threw across a field—it was a look you delivered with your hands. 

 

"You run very well."

 

"I'm not running," I said, breathlessly, which was a lie.

 

"Our definitions differ." 

 

His thumb pressed into the pulse-point under my glove. Heat lit, quick and unignorable, and the green stone at my throat warmed in echo. He saw the flinch when I felt it, a muscle jump in my jaw, and his gaze flicked down for that fraction of a moment—quick, sharp. He said nothing. But I felt the thought pass through him like a shadow's wing.

 

I twisted my wrist, not to break free but to move. We fell into motion again because motion was safer. He chased because he was built for it. The field blurred at the edges as we cut around the frozen bowl; the shine of ice threw a cold light up under our coats. Behind us, Poppy yelped triumph at some minor victory; Ominis complained and then laughed, a sound so rarely unraveled it felt like a gift.

 

"Alora!" Poppy cried. "Come here—help me flank him!"

 

"Over my dead body," Sebastian muttered, and got there first. He stepped in front of me at the ice's edge, blocking my path with an efficiency that made something traitorous in me want to applaud.

 

The ice under my boot cracked, a delicate web of lines. I froze on instinct. He did, too, eyes flicking to where I stared, the sound enough to tell him everything he needed to know.

 

"Careful," he said, and the word wasn't a tease. He reached out and took my elbow, steady as a post. The contact was brisk, practical, and still the shock of warmth lit me from wrist to shoulder. He eased me one step back, then another, until we were solid on the crusted snow.

 

"Thanks," I said, too quiet.

 

He didn't answer. He was looking at my mouth again, or maybe he was looking at the lie I wore where anyone might see it. I couldn't tell and it made me reckless. I scooped a small ball with my free hand and smashed it gently into the front of his coat.

 

"Equaliser" I said, stepping away.

 

He blinked wet flakes from his lashes, recovering half a smile. 

 

"Cheat."

 

"Strategist," I echoed, and fled before I did something else foolish.

 

The fight spiraled on, lighter for that near-miss. Poppy developed a technique of standing behind Ominis, tossing snow in an arc, and shouting "Duck!" to make him bend at just the right second so the ball whistled past his ear and nailed Sebastian in the ribs. Ominis pretended to be offended by this use of him as a shield; his mouth—traitorous—kept curving anyway.

 

"You're ganging up on me," Sebastian complained.

 

"Correct," I said, hip-checking him as I threw.

 

He caught that one in his bare hand, snow exploding around his fingers, and used the handful to smear a cold streak along my jaw as he went by, a touch so quick I could have imagined it. He didn't look back. He didn't need to. The heat fizzed under my skin like a secret.

 

By the time we declared a truce—Poppy, flushed and triumphant; Ominis, disheveled and smug in that quiet way—the meadow looked like it had been combed by giants. Our breath came in steam, cheeks stung, noses numb. The kind of tired that sits right behind your eyes and makes everything glow.

 

Poppy clapped mittened hands. "Hot chocolate," she declared. "Or butterbeer if we're decadent."

 

"Both," Sebastian said promptly.

 

"Greedy," I told him.

 

"Efficient," he said, and brushed a clump of snow from my hair like it had offended him personally. His glove snagged a curl near my ear and paused there for a heartbeat too long. We were both still. Then he let the curl go and the air rushed back.

 

Ominis turned his head toward the sound of us, listening to that silence like it had words in it. 

 

"Shall we?" he asked mildly, which meant he'd noticed enough and chosen—kindly—not to say so.

 

We trudged back toward the stile, boots squeaking on the cold. Poppy linked her arm through Ominis's again and leaned her head to his shoulder as she chattered about her gran's plum pudding and how Kneazles pretend to hate snow until they realise it makes everything smell new.

 

"Ice in your hair," Sebastian murmured under the noise, and I felt it before I knew where he meant. He reached without asking, removed the shard delicately from a curl by my temple, and let it glitter and fall. 

 

"There."

 

"Thank you," I said, steady because I had to be.

 

He didn't answer. He didn't need to. The look he gave me as we stepped back into the lane said he'd enjoyed the chase and that he intended to win the next round, whatever game we were playing. A promise, gentle as teeth.

 

The cottage came up like a small ship against the white. Smoke pushed itself out of the chimney in a thin, obstinate line. Poppy scampered ahead to stamp snow from her boots on the step; Ominis followed suit and found the latch by feel.

 

Sebastian fell back a half-pace as we reached the threshold, letting me go in first. The heat from the hearth wrapped around my frozen cheeks like hands. I set my gloves on the hearthstone beside the fire, listening to the faint hiss as the snow in their seams gave up.

 

"Cards after?" Poppy asked hopefully, already at the cupboard for mugs. "I feel lucky."

 

"You always do," Ominis said, amused.

 

Sebastian leaned beside me at the counter, close enough that I could feel the thaw of him. 

 

"Round two," he said under his breath, and the words were nothing and everything at once.

 

I didn't look at him. I didn't have to. 

 

"We'll see."

 

The star pin at my collar caught the firelight and winked. Beneath it, the necklace lay quiet and cool, the secret of it pressing against my skin like a vow. Outside, the field lay smooth and innocent again, the lines of our fight already blurring under a new sift of flakes. Inside, the day folded in on itself—warm mugs, red fingers, a deck of cards waiting—while something sharp and inevitable threaded the edges, pulling tight.

 

We hadn't broken the ice. We'd only learned how thin it was.

Chapter 47: Cards on the table

The cottage smelled of butterbeer and woodsmoke, sweet and heavy in the air. Poppy had insisted on a round of drinks after supper, declaring that Boxing Day wasn't Boxing Day without something to toast, and Sebastian hadn't needed much convincing. Ominis, to my mild surprise, had gone along with it, muttering about being peer-pressured as he poured himself a modest glass.

 

Now the four of us were sprawled around Solomon's old sitting room, the fire blazing high enough to make my cheeks warm. Empty plates sat forgotten on the sideboard, a deck of cards lay splayed between us on the rug, and Poppy was halfway through retelling an adventure I wished she'd forget.

 

"...and then the centaurs came storming through the clearing!" she said, eyes bright. "They looked furious, bows drawn, but Alora had just finished the ward and—"

 

"Sweeting." Sebastian cut across her with a lazy drawl, sipping his butterbeer. "Do all your stories start with her saving the day?"

 

Poppy blinked, startled. 

 

"Well—yes. Because she did."

 

I wanted the floor to open. I wanted the fire to swallow me whole. Instead, I tipped my glass, letting the sweetness burn against the back of my throat. 

 

"You exaggerate."

 

"She doesn't," Ominis said mildly, though his voice carried a note I recognised—a warning. To Poppy, not to Sebastian.

 

Sebastian leaned back on one elbow, cards dangling from his other hand. His gaze found mine across the rug, steady and infuriating. 

 

"Funny. You're not exactly modest about anything else."

 

I set my glass down a little harder than I meant to. 

 

"Maybe because I'm not interested in being turned into some tale people whisper about."

 

"You already are," he murmured, almost to himself.

 

Poppy, mercifully oblivious, began to shuffle the deck with far too much enthusiasm. 

 

"All right, all right! Let's play something before we drink ourselves silly. Ominis, you'll have to trust me not to cheat."

 

"I never trust anyone not to cheat," he said, lips twitching.

 

"See? You're learning." She nudged his knee with hers, grinning, and began to deal the cards.

 

The game was simple enough, some wizarding version of rummy that Poppy swore she'd learned from her gran. Charms made the cards glow when you had a match, sparks leaping like fireflies across the rug. Poppy's laugh came easily, Ominis's barbs were dry and affectionate, and Sebastian—Sebastian watched me. Always.

 

Every time my fingers touched the cards, I felt his attention like a thread pulling taut. When I set one down, his eyes flicked to it as though searching for meaning. And when Poppy, bless her, launched into another anecdote about the Kneazle kittens or the dragon egg, his gaze sharpened as if he were taking notes.

 

"You really do attract trouble," he said at one point, low enough that only I heard.

 

I didn't look up. 

 

"Occupational hazard."

 

"Of what?"

 

"Living."

 

His smile was small, dangerous. 

 

"Somehow I doubt that."

 

Across from us, Poppy was busy explaining the rules again—she'd caught Ominis deliberately misplaying just to see if she noticed. Their bickering was a buffer, a soundtrack that let me avoid the silence that wanted to bloom between Sebastian and me. But it couldn't mask the heat of his gaze, nor the way the firelight caught in his hair, turning it copper-gold at the edges.

 

By the third round, Poppy was winning outrageously. She giggled every time her cards sparked, tucking her legs under her and leaning against Ominis's shoulder as though she'd sat there her whole life. He didn't complain. Not once.

 

"You're letting her win," Sebastian said finally, exasperated.

 

"I am not," Ominis protested, though he was smiling.

 

"You absolutely are," I added, grateful for the chance to tease someone else.

 

Ominis tilted his head toward me. 

 

"What about you? You've hardly played a proper hand. Planning to sit there looking innocent until we're all drunk enough not to notice you sweeping the pot?"

 

"Innocent," Sebastian repeated, eyes on me. "Not the word I'd choose."

 

I shot him a glare over my cards. 

 

"And what would you choose?"

 

His grin was slow, deliberate. 

 

"Dangerous."

 

The word slid over my skin like a hand. I swallowed hard and dropped a card just to have something to do with my fingers. Sparks flared; Poppy cheered; Ominis muttered about theatrics.

 

Sebastian didn't take his eyes off me.

 

The drinks went down too easily. My cheeks burned from more than the fire; Poppy's were scarlet as she leaned into Ominis, telling him how her gran once hexed a poacher's boots to fill with nettles. He laughed, genuinely, and the sound made something twist warm in my chest despite everything. At least someone got to be happy tonight.

 

"Another?" Poppy asked, reaching for the deck.

 

"No," Ominis said firmly. "Bed, before Sebastian decides to bet the roof."

 

Sebastian smirked. 

 

"Tempting."

 

Poppy pouted but didn't argue. She helped Ominis to his feet, steadying his arm as he rose, and together they made their way toward the stairs. She glanced back once, eyes dancing. 

 

"Don't stay up too late, you two. You'll regret it in the morning."

 

I forced a smile. 

 

"Goodnight."

 

The door clicked shut behind them.

 

And then it was just us.

 

Sebastian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and the air seemed to thicken. The fire crackled, shadows licked the walls, and my pulse beat too fast in my throat.

 

"Dangerous," he said again, almost thoughtful. "That's the word."

 

I gathered the cards into a neat pile, not trusting myself to meet his gaze. 

 

"Go to bed, Sebastian."

 

"I will." His voice dipped, low and amused. "When I'm ready."

 

The silence between us hummed. Not empty. Never empty.

 

——————————————

 

The fire had burned low, its light molten at the edges, shadows stretching tall along the walls. Cards lay scattered on the rug between us, sparks fading to ash where Poppy had thrown her last winning hand. My glass was empty.

 

 

Sebastian leaned forward, scooping the cards into a messy pile. 

 

"She cheats," he said idly, though his mouth curved in a way that told me he hadn't minded.

 

"You let her win," I returned, brushing crumbs from my skirt.

 

"Perhaps." He gathered the cards into their box, slid it shut, and set it aside. "Or perhaps I knew I'd get better entertainment once the children went to bed."

 

"Children?" I arched a brow.

 

"Poppy and Ominis." He rose smoothly, stretching the kinks from his back. 

 

"Adorable. Predictable. Children."

 

I rolled my eyes and reached for my empty glass, more for something to do than anything else. Before I could stand, he plucked it from my hand.

 

"Allow me."

 

I blinked. 

 

"Since when are you domestic?"

 

"Since I decided you'd judge me less if I kept you drunk." He smirked over his shoulder as he crossed to the sideboard, where the bottles stood waiting. He poured with a practiced tilt, a measure of butterbeer and the sharper burn of firewhisky. The smell curled warm through the air as he returned, pressing the glass into my hand.

 

"Careful," he said, tone lower now. "That one bites."

 

I lifted it anyway, the rim cool against my lip. The first sip stung my tongue, but it slid down sweet and slow, leaving heat blooming in my chest.

 

Sebastian dropped into the armchair opposite me, sprawling in that careless way he always did, one arm thrown along the back, one knee hooked out. He watched me over the rim of his own glass. Firelight ran along his cheekbones, traced the edge of his jaw.

 

I looked away first. Always first.

 

"You played badly on purpose," he said after a moment.

 

"I don't know what you mean."

 

"Yes, you do." His grin was all lazy certainty. "You threw that last hand just to keep Poppy's halo shining. Noble of you."

 

"She deserved the win."

 

"You deserved the win," he countered. "But you'd rather fold than let anyone see you gloat."

 

I took another sip, trying not to smile. 

 

"Not all of us enjoy being unbearable."

 

"You'd be good at it," he said, quiet enough that I almost didn't hear.

 

The fire popped. A log shifted, sparks rising and dying before they reached the ceiling. I set my glass down on the hearthstone. 

 

"You're ridiculous."

 

"Maybe." He studied me then, not the cards, not the drink, not the way I'd tucked my legs beneath me on the rug. Just me. His eyes lingered in a way that stripped the air from my lungs. "But you're different here."

 

I stilled. 

 

"Different?"

 

His head tilted, brow furrowed as though he were trying to puzzle something out. 

 

"Lighter. Happier." His voice dropped further, gentled despite the sharp cut of the words. "I didn't realise how much you'd been carrying until I saw you without it."

 

Heat crawled up my throat. I busied myself with the glass, swirling the amber liquid. 

 

"You're imagining things."

 

"I don't imagine," he said simply. "I notice."

 

I hated how that landed. How true it felt.

 

When I didn't answer, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The fire painted his eyes gold, but there was no softness in them—only intent. 

 

"You don't realise, do you? How different you are when you're not...watched."

 

My heart jolted. 

 

"Watched?"

 

"You know what I mean." He sat back again, but his gaze didn't waver. "At Hogwarts you move like every corridor has eyes. Like you're waiting for someone to snap a leash. Here..." His mouth twisted. "Here you laugh. You play. You fight dirty in the snow."

 

"Don't flatter yourself."

 

"It's not me I'm flattering."

 

The words landed heavier than they should have, sinking into my chest like stones into water. I reached for my glass, needing something between us, but my fingers brushed his instead. He'd slid his drink toward me without my noticing, the rim glistening in the firelight.

 

The touch was fleeting. It still sparked like a live wire.

 

"You're drunk," I said, pulling back too fast.

 

"Not nearly enough." His voice curved wicked, but the look in his eyes wasn't humour. It was hunger, sharp and restless. "Besides—if I were drunk, I'd be saying things I shouldn't."

 

I swallowed. 

 

"And what would those be?"

 

He smirked, but it faltered, just slightly. 

 

"Feelings."

 

The word hung there, raw and unguarded, and for a moment neither of us breathed.

 

I broke first. 

 

"Sebastian—"

 

"Don't." He held up a hand, but his voice wasn't harsh. It was quiet. Tired, almost. "I'm not asking you for anything. Not yet."

 

The fire cracked. Shadows leaned closer. His gaze didn't move. 

 

"I just wanted you to know that I notice."

 

I couldn't look at him. I couldn't not look at him. My pulse stuttered; my hand shook as I lifted my glass again. The drink burned sharper this time.

 

Across from me, Sebastian leaned back into his chair, all lazy posture again, as though the moment hadn't happened. As though he hadn't just cracked something open between us.

 

But his eyes told the truth.

 

——————————————

 

The word still hung between us—feelings—raw and dangerous, like he'd dropped a spark too close to kindling. I thought he'd leave it there, let the silence smother it, but something inside me refused to let him.

 

"Why?" I asked, before I could swallow it back.

 

His brow furrowed. 

 

"Why what?"

 

"Why are you different now?" I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, glass balanced between my hands. The fire's glow painted his face in copper and shadow, and for once I made myself hold his gaze. 

 

"At the start of the year, you wouldn't leave me alone. You sat with me, walked me to class, hovered so close I could barely breathe. And now..." I gestured weakly between us, the air stretched thin. 

 

"Now you don't."

 

His eyes narrowed, sharp with something unreadable. 

 

"You noticed."

 

"Of course I noticed." My voice shook despite myself. "It was—" I broke off, searching for words. "Overwhelming. Sometimes too much. But it was you. And you don't do that anymore. Why?"

 

He was quiet for a long moment. The fire popped; my pulse stumbled.

 

Finally, he leaned back, running a hand through his hair. 

 

"Because if I let myself, I'd do it again. Every bit of it. And worse." His smile curved without humour. "I'd orbit you until you hated me for it."

 

My breath caught.

 

"You think I don't want to?" he went on, voice lower now, almost harsh. "That I don't want to sit next to you until everyone else disappears? Walk you to class so every bastard in the corridor knows you're mine? I want that. I want it every bloody second."

 

He looked away then, staring into the fire as though it had answers. 

 

"But wanting and taking are different things. And if I keep circling you like before, I'll burn us both out."

 

The words landed in me like stones. Heavy. True.

 

I remembered the start of the year—Sebastian glued to my side, every step, every moment. The way he'd found me in the library just to sit and watch me read. How he'd leaned against the wall outside Ancient Runes, arms folded, smirking at anyone who so much as glanced my way. It had been suffocating sometimes, yes, but also intoxicating. Like being seen, wholly and completely, for the first time.

 

And now here he was, deliberately holding himself back.

 

I swallowed, my voice a whisper. 

 

"I think...I like this version more."

 

That made him look at me. Really look. His eyes caught the firelight and for once there was no smirk, no armour. Just the weight of him.

 

"You like me restrained," he said flatly.

 

"I like you steady," I corrected, though my throat felt too tight. "Measured. It's...safer."

 

"Safer." His mouth twisted, as though the word offended him.

 

"I didn't mean—"

 

"No, you did." He leaned forward suddenly, elbows braced on his knees, closing the gap between us until his voice brushed my skin. 

 

"You think I've changed. That this is some new version of me you prefer. But you're wrong."

 

My heart pounded. 

 

"Then what is it?"

 

His eyes burned, sharp and unyielding. 

 

"Restraint. That's all. The same hunger, leashed tighter. You think you want this? Careful. Because the moment I stop holding it back—" He broke off, jaw tightening, like the words themselves were too much.

 

The silence roared. My fingers trembled against the glass.

 

He saw it—of course he did. And instead of pulling away, he reached across the narrow space and brushed his knuckles along my hand where it rested on my knee. Barely a touch. Enough to brand me.

 

"I could smother you again," he said quietly. "Easier than breathing. But I won't. Not until you ask me to."

 

The glass wobbled in my grip. I set it down before I shattered it. 

 

"Sebastian..."

 

His hand lingered another heartbeat before he pulled it back, slow and deliberate, as though to prove his own point. His smile was crooked, dangerous, soft around the edges in a way that cut me deeper than any sharpness could.

 

"You say you like this version more." His gaze held mine, steady. "But don't mistake control for distance. I'm not far, Alora. I've never been far."

 

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The room tilted around the weight of him, the fire dimming, the night pressing against the windows.

 

If I stayed here another second, I'd fall into him.

 

I rose too quickly, smoothing my skirt, reaching for the safety of the stairs. 

 

"It's late."

 

His smirk returned, faint but pointed. 

 

"Running again?"

 

I forced myself to look back, just once. He was sprawled in the chair, glass in hand, firelight gilding his jaw. But his eyes were still on me, hungry, patient, unflinching.

 

"I'm going to bed," I said, steady as I could.

 

"Sweet dreams, Winters," he murmured.

 

I didn't have them.

 

——————————————

 

I woke to the sound of the cottage settling—wood sighing, the low rasp of embers turning in their sleep. The room was dark, the sort of dark that feels padded and close. My pillow still held the warmth of my cheek, but my mind wouldn't lie still. Words from the fire kept circling back: Restraint... orbit... I'm not far.

 

I gave up pretending.

 

The floorboards were cold through my socks. I pulled on my boots, shrugged into my cloak, and eased the door open with both hands to keep it from creaking. The passage smelled faintly of smoke and soap. Poppy's soft snore threaded the silence from the room across the landing; Ominis made no sound at all. I slipped down the stairs, past the hearth banked low and orange, and let myself out.

 

The night met me like a clean blade. Frost bit my lungs. Stars hung bright and indifferent over Feldcroft, pricked into a sky so clear it looked brittle. The lane beyond the cottage wore a thin sheet of new snow over the day's churned footprints, as if it had decided to forget we'd ever been here.

 

I crossed the stile, palm stinging against the cold stone, and followed the hedge to the dip in the field. The sheet of ice we'd found earlier had taken the starlight and kept it—silver gathered in one place. I stood at its edge and listened to the thin, secret sounds of winter: a rook turning itself on a branch; the small shift of a sleeping sheep; the far, hollow crack of a pond somewhere giving an inch.

 

My breath made pale ghosts. They drifted and did not answer me.

 

Behind me, snow whispered.

 

Only one person had that footfall. He walked like he meant to take his time, like the night would wait for him. I didn't turn. Not yet. The ache in my chest changed shape—tighter and suddenly easier at the same time.

 

"You couldn't sleep," he said finally, voice low and roughened by the cold.

 

"Neither could you," I said, and let the words be a welcome instead of a rebuke.

 

He came to stand beside me, close enough that our sleeves nudged when the wind moved us. He'd dragged a coat over his shirt and thrown a scarf around his neck in an untidy loop. Frost dusted his hair where the air had caught him. In the starlight he looked older and younger at once.

 

"Didn't think you'd run off without me," he added, lazy on the surface.

 

"I didn't run." I kept my eyes on the ice. "I walked very politely."

 

A huff—almost a laugh. 

 

"You always do."

 

Silence folded back over us, gentler now. We watched the field together. My fingers ached inside my gloves; I flexed them and felt the bones click. He noticed. Of course he did.

 

"Give me your hands," he said.

 

"I'm fine."

 

"Liar." He didn't wait for permission—just caught my wrists and tugged my hands into his, enclosing my fingers in his palms. His gloves were warmer than mine. Heat leaked into me slowly, like thaw finding ground.

 

"Bossy," I muttered.

 

"Efficient." He looked down at me through his lashes. "You've been awake since you went upstairs."

 

I didn't ask how he knew. 

 

"And you?"

 

His mouth tipped, not quite a smile. 

 

"Since you went upstairs."

 

We stood like that until my knuckles stopped throbbing. He didn't let go. The wind slid a strand of hair across my cheek; he reached up and tucked it behind my ear without thinking about it. The green stone at my throat warmed, a soft pulse, like it recognised him before I did. His gaze dipped to the necklace for one breath—a quick, sharp glance that caught the faint shimmer—and then he looked away without a word, like he'd promised himself something.

 

I cleared my throat. 

 

"If Poppy knew we were out here, she'd insist on hot tea and a lecture."

 

"She'd be right about the tea."

 

"You hate tea."

 

"I'd drink the whole pot if it meant you'd stop shivering."

 

"I'm not shiv—" I started, and then betrayed myself with a fine little shake of the shoulders.

 

"Come here." He shifted, standing between me and the wind. The movement wasn't dramatic—he just took the weather like it was nothing and let me borrow the lee of him. The field went quieter. My body settled a fraction.

 

"Did I push you too far?" he asked, after a while. "Downstairs."

 

"No." I watched our breath braid in the air and tried to make my voice as steady as it deserved to be. 

 

"You were honest."

 

"That's dangerous for me," he said lightly.

 

"For you?"

 

He tipped his head, considering me. 

 

"Honesty makes me stupid. I say what I want and then I want it worse."

 

A small, unhelpful sound escaped me. 

 

"You're impossible."

 

"I'm manageable." He brushed his thumb once over the knuckle of my glove, absent and lethal. 

 

"Tell me to go back inside and I will."

 

I should have. I didn't.

 

"Stay," I said.

 

He didn't gloat. He just breathed out, and it ghosted warm over my temple.

 

We left the ice and walked the hedgerow, boots squeaking on the crusted snow. Hedgehog tracks stitched a line along the ditch before vanishing under a hawthorn. The village was a dark shoulder on the far side of the fields; the sky kept its bright watch.

 

"You said I'm different here," I said, when the quiet had loosened me enough. "Lighter."

 

"I did."

 

"And you... you are too." I felt rather than saw him look at me. "At the start of the year—you were everywhere I was. Now you're... not."

 

"You miss being stalked?" Dry, amused.

 

"I miss not feeling like I'm made of glass," I said honestly. "I don't know how to be looked at and not break."

 

He walked a few more steps before answering. 

 

"Then I'll look carefully." It was almost gentle. "I told you—this isn't distance. It's restraint."

 

"You make it sound like a choice."

 

"It is."

 

"And if you stopped choosing?"

 

He stopped. Snow whispered under us as we turned toward each other. The wind took a breath and held it.

 

"If I stopped," he said, entirely even, "I'd carry you back to the cottage and spend the rest of the night convincing you I meant everything I said by the fire."

 

The field fell away. The world narrowed to the space his words filled and the heat layered under them.

 

I swallowed, throat tight. 

 

"You're infuriating."

 

"Accurate." His smile was small, honest. "But I'm keeping my promise."

 

"What promise?"

 

He stepped closer by half a step; the air between us thinned. 

 

"Not to drown you unless you ask me to."

 

The necklace warmed again, a soft flare under the wool. I pushed it back beneath my cloak before the light could give me away. He didn't chase the movement with his eyes this time. He let me have the lie.

 

"Why did you follow me?" I asked, because questions were safer than permission.

 

"I don't sleep when you don't," he said simply. Then, after a beat, a crooked attempt at levity: "Besides, who else is going to keep you from testing the ice again?"

 

"I wasn't—"

 

"Alora." He said my name like he could see the thought forming. "Please don't."

 

I huffed a breath that wanted to be a laugh. 

 

"Fine. No heroics."

 

We stood with that, letting the cold make us honest. After a while, he unwound his scarf and looped it once around my neck, fingers careful where they brushed my skin. The wool carried his heat and something of him—pepper and smoke and winter air. He tucked the ends against my chest with a concentration that made my heart have to learn a new rhythm.

 

"You'll freeze," I protested weakly.

 

"I run warm." He angled the barest grin. "Occupational hazard."

 

"Of what?"

 

"Wanting things I shouldn't."

 

"That's not an occupation."

 

"It's full-time," he said, and it landed halfway between a joke and a confession.

 

We turned back toward the cottage. The path we'd made earlier had softened under the new fall; our boots wrote a fresh line home. At the stile he steadied me with a hand at my elbow, then didn't move it, then pretended he hadn't meant to keep it there at all. The cottage roof wore a thin glitter of frost; the chimney breathed a faint orange. Everything felt suspended, as if the night had decided not to move forward unless we asked it to.

 

At the door, I turned the latch and paused. He stopped close behind me, not touching, close enough to feel. The moment wobbled.

 

"If you can't sleep again," he said, voice low, "wake me."

 

"Why?" It came out softer than I meant.

 

"So I don't have to pretend I wasn't going to follow you anyway."

 

Something treacherous in me smiled. 

 

"You're ridiculous."

 

"Constantly."

 

We slipped back inside. The banked fire lifted its head, pleased to see us. I laid his scarf—my scarf now—over the arm of the chair to dry the frost from it. He stood with his hands in his pockets like he needed them there to keep from using them.

 

"Goodnight, Sebastian," I said.

 

He tipped his head, eyes a little darker than the room should have allowed. 

 

"Goodnight, Alora."

 

I took the stairs quietly, pulse in my throat, the wool warm where it had learned my heat. In bed, the ceiling was just a pale suggestion and the house breathed around me. The necklace cooled against my skin, as if it had decided to keep its own counsel.

 

Sleep didn't come right away. But the ache in my chest had changed shape again—less like a blade, more like a bruise pressed by a familiar hand. When I finally drifted, it was with the taste of cold air on my tongue and the certainty of footsteps that would always, always find mine.

Chapter 48: Auld Lang Syne

The days after Boxing Day blurred in a kind of quiet rhythm I hadn't felt in months. The world shrank to Feldcroft's crooked lanes and the cottage with its stubborn fire. Mornings were slow—Poppy insisting on tea before anything else, Ominis mapping the frost with his careful steps, Sebastian teasing whoever looked the sleepiest. Afternoons were filled with long walks over fields, wool scarves tangled in the wind, and nights curled round the hearth until our eyelids drooped.

 

It was...peaceful.

 

Evenings, Sebastian sometimes pulled another chair close to mine and dealt a deck of cards between us, idly shuffling while we traded soft barbs. Sometimes he didn't speak much at all—just sat there, eyes tracing me through the firelight as though the silence between us was its own language. I told myself it was nothing. I told myself everything.

 

On the morning of December 30th, the peace broke in the scratch of claws against the window.

 

A tawny owl tapped its beak on the glass, feathers bristled against the cold. It looked pleased with itself, as owls always do, a fat roll of parchment tied to its leg with twine.

 

Poppy shot up from her seat at the table, scattering crumbs of toast onto her lap. 

 

"Post!" she said, delighted. "Let it in, Alora, quick before it freezes."

 

I crossed the room and unlatched the window. The owl swooped inside, scattering snowflakes onto the rug, and perched on the chair-back with the offended dignity of someone who had just flown halfway across Britain to do us a favour.

 

Ominis, spoon halfway to his mouth, raised a brow. 

 

"I can hear that bird judging us."

 

Sebastian smirked. 

 

"It'll fit right in, then."

 

I untied the twine and unrolled the parchment. Gareth's messy scrawl leapt out in uneven lines, ink blotched at the corners.

 

"Weasley family New Year's Eve party," I read aloud. "Tipi tent in the garden, music, food, firewhisky, dancing. Starts at dusk, ends whenever Mum makes us stop. Bring whoever you like. Expect chaos."

 

Poppy clapped her hands. 

 

"A party! At the Burrow, no less. Oh, I've always wanted to see it properly."

 

Sebastian groaned, though his eyes glinted. 

 

"Weasley chaos? I'd rather duel a Hungarian Horntail."

 

"You'd lose to both," Ominis said dryly.

 

"Harsh," Sebastian muttered.

 

But I caught the flicker beneath his act—the quick curl at the corner of his mouth, the spark in his eyes. He wanted to go.

 

I reread the parchment, smiling despite myself. The thought of the Burrow—warm, bustling, spilling over with noise—lit something in my chest. For once, I wasn't weighed down by dread. I wasn't thinking of Hector's threats or the shadow of Hogwarts' walls. I was thinking of Violet's laughter, Imelda's sharp jokes, Priscilla's quick embraces. My friends. My girls.

 

"I think we should go," I said firmly.

 

Poppy beamed. 

 

"Yes! Oh, Ominis, say yes. I'll make sure no one drags you into dancing unless it's me."

 

He sighed like a man wronged by fate. 

 

"Merlin help me."

 

Sebastian leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. 

 

"And what exactly are you planning to wear, Winters?"

 

The question came out casual, but his eyes didn't move from me. I pretended not to notice the weight of it. 

 

"Something festive," I said lightly.

 

His mouth curved, slow and dangerous. 

 

"Then I suppose we're going."

 

The owl hooted impatiently, as though demanding thanks. Poppy rummaged for a scrap of bacon and offered it up, cooing at it until the bird took flight again. Snow flurried in after it, sharp against the warm air, and the four of us watched it vanish into the pale sky.

 

"Tomorrow night," Poppy said, eyes bright. "We'll ring in the New Year properly."

 

For the first time in weeks, I let myself believe her.

 

———————————————

 

We left Feldcroft just as the sun folded itself into the horizon. The sky burned faintly purple over the fields, snow glowing in its last light. Bundled in cloaks, we gathered at the gate; Poppy tugged Ominis's sleeve to guide him to the apparition point, and Sebastian offered me his arm with a smirk that knew exactly what it was doing.

 

The tug of apparition pulled the ground from beneath my feet. A moment of nothing, then—

 

The Burrow rose before us.

 

Lanterns floated above its crooked roofline, strings of charmed lights tangled between chimneys. The house leaned and listed as though it might collapse, yet it glowed with the kind of warmth only years of laughter can build. From the garden, music swelled—violins, drums, the crackle of a charmed wireless turned too loud.

 

And there, pitched on the snow, stood a massive tipi tent, taller than the Burrow itself. Its canvas shimmered faintly with enchantments, light spilling golden from the seams. Sparks drifted upward like fireflies. Inside, shadows moved—dancing, laughing, colliding. The air smelled of mulled cider and woodsmoke, rich and sweet.

 

Poppy gasped. 

 

"Oh, it's perfect." She squeezed Ominis's hand, tugging him toward the path. He shook his head with fond exasperation but let her lead.

 

Sebastian stood at my side, his gaze sweeping the scene. He muttered low enough for only me

 

"Weasley chaos, indeed."

 

"You'll survive," I said, smiling.

 

His eyes flicked to me then—just me, not the Burrow, not the tent. And for a moment his smirk faltered. 

 

"Not if you look like that, I won't."

 

Heat rose to my cheeks, quick as firewhisky. I smoothed my dress uselessly, feeling the fabric catch light from the lanterns. Green silk, soft and flowing, a little daring at the neckline. I hadn't worn it to tempt him, but now, under that look, I felt seen in a way that made my pulse stumble.

 

Before I could answer, the Burrow's crooked door swung open. Gareth came tumbling out, already flushed with excitement, scarf trailing behind him. 

 

"Finally!" he bellowed over the music. "Took you long enough—come on, before Edward drinks all the butterbeer!"

 

Behind him, the doorway filled with red hair and noise.

 

Gareth Weasley Sr. stepped forward first, booming with laughter, patting Gareth's shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. 

 

"That's my boy—rounding up trouble as always." His grin spread to us in welcome. "Glad you all came."

 

Mable Weasley bustled after him, cheeks pink from the fire, wand in one hand and a tray of pies in the other. 

 

"Don't just stand in the snow, dears—get inside before you catch your death. Gareth, for heaven's sake, fix that scarf before you strangle yourself."

 

Two older boys followed—Edward, broad-shouldered with a Quidditch chaser's build, and Reggie, tall and pale with a sharp look in his eyes that made me think of Ominis's dry wit. Edward whooped when he saw us. 

 

"So these are the friends you've been going on about! Poor souls."

 

"Don't scare them off," Reggie said mildly, though the smirk tugging his mouth betrayed him.

 

Last came Beatrice, the youngest, no more than thirteen, darting between her brothers with wide eyes. She bounced on her toes when she spotted Poppy. 

 

"Is it true you keep Kneazles?" she blurted.

 

Poppy lit up instantly. 

 

"Yes—and I'll tell you all about them, promise."

 

Beatrice squealed and ran back inside, already shouting for her mother to let her stay up until midnight.

 

Through all the bustle, a familiar voice called out

 

"Alora Winters at a party? I'll have to alert the Prophet."

 

I turned—and there stood Matilda Weasley, elegant even in her holiday cloak, her sharp eyes softened with warmth. She crossed the garden toward us, a butterbeer in hand, lips curved in genuine pleasure. 

 

"You clean up well, all of you." Her gaze lingered on me, a flicker of pride I didn't expect. "Especially you, Miss Winters."

 

I dipped my head, trying to hide the sudden heat in my face.

 

 "Happy New Year, Professor."

 

She chuckled. 

 

"Tonight, I'm just Matilda. Do try not to hex anyone."

 

Sebastian muttered under his breath

 

"No promises," and I elbowed him before Matilda could hear.

 

Then, from the tent, came the sound I'd missed most: Imelda's bark of laughter, Violet's squeal, Priscilla's voice calling my name.

 

I turned—and there they were, all three rushing toward me.

 

"Alora!" Violet cried, arms out.

 

"Finally," Imelda grinned, wicked and fond all at once.

 

Priscilla didn't bother with words; she wrapped me in a hug tight enough to knock the air from my chest. I laughed into her shoulder, breathless, alive.

 

For the first time in weeks, I wasn't looking over mine. I wasn't thinking of Hector. I was home, in my own way, with them.

 

And when Sebastian's eyes found me again across the lantern light, something in his expression said he knew it too.

 

———————————————

 

The tipi tent could have swallowed the Burrow twice over. Inside, it was all glow and noise, the canvas ceiling charmed to mimic a sky strewn with silver stars. Lanterns bobbed like fireflies, spilling gold across long tables laden with pies, pasties, jugs of butterbeer and bottles of firewhisky that refilled themselves with a pop. A fiddle shrieked from a corner, joined by the low thrum of enchanted drums, and couples were already stomping and spinning across the wooden floorboards someone had conjured over the snow.

 

The whole place smelled of woodsmoke, treacle, and laughter.

 

"Merlin," Poppy breathed, squeezing my hand. "It's wonderful."

 

Before I could answer, Imelda hooked her arm through mine. 

 

"Finally. I thought you'd locked yourself in Feldcroft for good." 

 

Her grin was sharp but her hug was tight, and she smelled faintly of butterbeer and spiced apples.

 

"You've missed everything," Violet scolded, tugging at my sleeve until I laughed. "We've been stuck with nothing but boys and gossip. It's been miserable without you."

 

Priscilla rolled her eyes but her smile gave her away. 

 

"We survived, somehow. But don't do it again."

 

Warmth spread through me, curling deep in my chest. For the first time in weeks, I felt the knot of tension loosen. These were my people—loud, irreverent, messy, and mine.

 

Across the tent, Edward Weasley was already challenging Ellis to a butterbeer-chugging contest, tankards slamming onto the table. Ellis whooped, already tipsy, while Noah leaned against the bench, shaking his head. 

 

"You're going to embarrass yourself," he said, though his grin betrayed him.

 

Ellis waved him off. 

 

"I was born to make a fool of myself!" He lifted his tankard to cheers and promptly choked halfway through, sending everyone into hysterics.

 

"Pathetic," Edward declared, raising his own victorious mug.

 

Reggie muttered from the corner, 

 

"Some legacy we're building here," without looking up from his book.

 

Beatrice darted between them, carrying sweets she'd nicked from a tray. 

 

"You lost already, Ellis! Edward's the champion!"

 

"Traitor," Ellis wheezed, then collapsed into Priscilla's lap, groaning for dramatic effect. She shoved him upright, laughing too hard to be annoyed.

 

And somewhere in all that, Sebastian found me.

 

He didn't rush over; that wasn't his way anymore. He lingered first at the drinks table, exchanging words with Gareth and Noah, his smile lazy, his laugh low. But his eyes—his eyes kept flicking across the crowd, always landing on me. I felt them like a hand on the back of my neck.

 

Noah caught him staring and smirked. 

 

"You're missing the point of a party, Sallow. The goal is to drink, not brood."

 

Sebastian only shrugged, smirk curling at the edge. 

 

"I'm not brooding."

 

"Sure you aren't," Noah said, following his line of sight straight to me.

 

Sebastian didn't bother defending himself. He just raised his glass and moved through the crowd.

 

"Careful, Lora. He's been staring holes through you all night."

 

I rolled my eyes, but my pulse betrayed me. 

 

"He's like that with everyone."

 

"Liar," she sang, wicked delight in her gaze. "He looks at you like you're contraband."

 

Before I could answer, Violet shoved a drink into my hand. 

 

"Don't argue, drink. It's New Year's Eve."

 

The liquid fizzed sweet and sharp against my tongue, warmth unfurling in my chest. Around us, the music kicked into a faster reel; people clapped in rhythm, boots thudding the boards. Gareth spun Beatrice in a circle until she shrieked, and Mable swooped in to rescue her, laughing as she scolded them both.

 

I let myself laugh too. It felt good.

 

"Dance with me," Priscilla demanded, already tugging me toward the floor. She dragged Violet and Imelda too, and soon the four of us were caught in the tide of stomping feet, skirts swishing, hair flying. The rhythm carried us, the heat of bodies pressing in, lantern light scattering over flushed faces.

 

I spun, breathless, and for a heartbeat caught Sebastian's gaze again across the dancers. He wasn't smiling this time. He was watching me, sharp and intent, like the rest of the tent didn't exist.

 

The music surged; someone clapped me on the back; I spun again and lost him in the crush. But the ghost of that look stayed with me, hot and dangerous.

 

By the time we staggered off the floor, laughing and flushed, Poppy had Ominis cornered by the drinks. She was lecturing him on the merits of pumpkin pasties while he nodded with an air of long-suffering fondness. He reached for a glass and promptly handed it to me as though he'd known exactly where I'd appear.

 

"Hydrate," he said.

 

I smiled, touched. 

 

"Thank you."

 

"Don't thank me yet," he said, head tilting. "Your shadow's coming."

 

I turned—and there was Sebastian, glass in hand, weaving through the crowd with that effortless stride, eyes locked on me.

 

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, voice pitched just low enough to make it private.

 

"I was," I said, arching a brow. "Until you started looming."

 

"Looming," he repeated, amused. "That's what you call watching you look dangerously good in that dress?"

 

My breath stuttered. 

 

"You're drunk."

 

"Not nearly enough." He tipped his glass back, throat working as he drained it. 

 

"Dance with me."

 

It wasn't a request.

 

Before I could summon an excuse, Ellis called from across the tent, 

 

"Go on, Winters! Don't make him beg!"

 

Noah raised his glass in lazy salute. 

 

"Put him out of his misery, Alora."

 

Sebastian's grin sharpened. 

 

"You heard them." He held out his hand.

 

Every warning bell in me rang. And yet my fingers slid into his.

 

 

The contact burned. He led me onto the floor as the music shifted to something slower, sweeter. Couples drew close, laughter softening into murmurs. The lantern light caught the green of my dress and set it glowing; his hand found the small of my back, steady and sure.

 

"You're dangerous," I whispered.

 

"So you keep telling me." His breath brushed my temple. "But you keep coming closer."

 

I hated the way my heart leapt. I hated how much I didn't want to pull away.

 

Around us, the party roared on—Edward shouting dares across the room, Beatrice darting underfoot, Mable conjuring fresh platters with a flick of her wand. But in that circle of music and heat, it felt like there was only us.

 

Sebastian leaned in, close enough that the world tilted. 

 

"Midnight's coming, Alora." His lips curved, soft and certain. 

 

"Don't run this time."

 

The song swelled, pulling us tighter. I clung to the rhythm like it was safer than his eyes.

 

———————————————

 

The song slowed, then softened into something that felt like candlelight. His hand steadied at the small of my back; my palm rested over his shoulder where his collar had gone warm from the tent's heat. Lanterns drifted lazily beneath the charmed star-ceiling. Around us, people laughed in low voices, the rattle of glasses and the creak of boards folding into the music.

 

Sebastian's gaze didn't leave my face. 

 

"You're still here," he said, so softly I felt it more than heard it.

 

"You told me not to run."

 

"And you listened." His mouth tilted. "That's new."

 

I swallowed, betraying myself with the way my fingers curled in his shirt. The green stone at my throat warmed like a pulse. He glanced at it for half a beat—quick, sharp—and then let the thought pass without a word, turning back to me like the rest of the world had decided to make itself useful by disappearing.

 

Near the long tables, Mable clapped her hands for attention. 

 

"Half an hour!" she called, cheerful and bossy all at once. "No one drink themselves under before midnight—Edward, that means you." 

 

Laughter rolled across the tent. Edward made a dramatic bow and poured water from a jug as if he'd invented temperance; Reggie didn't look up from his book, only said, 

 

"Odds are poor," to no one in particular.

 

Imelda blew me a kiss from over Violet's shoulder, then spun her out into a reel. Poppy tugged Ominis toward the edge of the floor where he could feel the rhythm through the boards, murmuring the counts against his wrist. He smiled in that small way that turned his face into a secret.

 

Sebastian's thumb moved where it rested at my spine—a simple, absent stroke that somehow felt like an answer to a question I hadn't asked aloud. The circle of us drew tighter. The song's last measures slid away.

 

Another tune started—slow again, on purpose this time, as if the tent itself had decided to usher us toward the hour. Somewhere behind us, Gareth Sr. whooped. Fireworks crackled in a bucket by the entrance, restless.

 

"Alora," Sebastian said.

 

"Yes?"

 

"If I ask you something you'll hate, will you forgive me for asking it beautifully?"

 

I should have laughed. Instead I heard myself say

 

"Try me."

 

His breath touched my cheek. 

 

"Tell me not to kiss you."

 

I went very still.

 

The band played on. Someone dropped a glass and cheered when it didn't break. Lanterns bobbed, star-charms shivered, and under all of it was the beat of my pulse like a dare.

 

"I can't," I said, and it left me on the smallest exhale.

 

The look he gave me then was almost relief, almost triumph. But not unkind. 

 

"Good," he said simply.

 

The music faded under the swell of voices as Mable's call came again—closer now, the hour gathering its edges. 

 

"Ten minutes!"

 

We turned slightly with the slow tide of couples; his hand tightened at my back. When he leaned in, I felt the ghost of his mouth at the hinge of my jaw, not touching, just there, a promise sharpened to a point.

 

"Say it," he whispered, and I knew what he meant: not words, not really, just permission written the only way he trusts.

 

I answered by closing the last inch between us until my nose brushed his cheek. He hummed, the sound low and wrecking, and for a moment we stood like that, suspended.

 

"Five minutes!" Gareth shouted from the bandstand, sloshing butterbeer on his own boots. Everyone laughed and gathered closer to the makeshift stage.

 

Sebastian didn't look away. 

 

"I told you downstairs," he said, voice paper-thin, "I'm not far."

 

"I know." It came out like a truth I'd been carrying for months.

 

The tent shifted into the familiar ritual of it—people crowding together, cheeks flushed, children bouncing on their toes, adults pretending they weren't counting as fiercely as the younger ones. Matilda Weasley drifted past, meeting my eye for a moment with an expression that was half amusement, half benediction. She kept moving, leaving the path clear.

 

"Two minutes!"

 

Sebastian's hand slid slightly higher at my back; my fingers climbed his shoulder to the warm skin at the base of his neck. We were a study in tiny decisions. The kind that break dams.

 

"Don't run," he said again, but the plea had softened into something like please.

 

"I'm not running," I told him, and felt the truth land in my bones.

 

"ONE MINUTE!" Ellis bellowed. The tent erupted into the familiar count from sixty; voices tangled, too fast, then corrected themselves with laughter.

 

He leaned his forehead to mine. The world snapped to a single bright dot. 

 

"Happy New Year, Alora," he breathed, before the numbers got interesting. 

 

"Say it back."

 

I could barely hear the crowd anymore. 

 

"Happy New Year, Sebastian."

 

"Ten!"

 

The whole tent shook with it. Hands lifted, glasses raised, lanterns rising a little higher.

 

"Nine!"

 

He smiled, a fraction. 

 

"You're sure."

 

"Eight!"

 

"Yes."

 

"Seven!"

 

"I won't stop if I start," he warned, and it sounded like mercy.

 

"Six!"

 

"Don't," I said.

 

"Five!"

 

He laughed once, helplessly.

 

"Four!"

 

The green stone at my throat flared warm as if answering the drum of my heart.

 

"Three!"

 

His mouth tilted. 

 

"There you are."

 

"Two!"

 

My fingers tightened at his neck.

 

"One!"

 

Noise exploded—cheers, whistles, the first flare of a Weasley firework tearing up into the charmed ceiling, bursting into a constellation that spelled W E A S L E Y before resolving into a shower of gold. Confetti bloomed from someone's wand; Mable's pies levitated and performed a dignified spin; Edward lifted Beatrice onto a chair while she shrieked with delight.

 

Sebastian kissed me.

 

Not gentle. Not careless.

 

He kissed me like the answer to every question he'd held behind his teeth since autumn. His hand splayed at my back and pressed me in, careful of the silk and not at all careful of anything else. I let the world fall away. The floor tipped, the tent went brighter, and I kissed him back like I'd already chosen this hours ago and was tired of pretending I hadn't.

 

There was heat and the taste of firewhisky and the faintest edge of winter air clinging to his hair. He made a sound into my mouth—a soft, surprised thing he wouldn't thank me for naming—and I felt it everywhere. When he angled my chin, I went with him, greedy in a way I'd promised myself I wouldn't be. His restraint held for exactly two heartbeats, then slipped like a knot loosened by warm hands. The relief of it nearly undid me.

 

Somewhere, people were laughing and shouting Happy New Year! Poppy's squeal rose above the noise; Imelda wolf-whistled and shouted, "Finally!" Ominis must have smiled, because I could feel the shape of his quiet approval even from across a room.

 

Sebastian broke only far enough to breathe, forehead still resting to mine, noses brushing. He was smiling—ruined a bit, tender around the edges, dangerous in the way that made my knees think about not cooperating.

 

"Hi," he said, absurd.

 

"Hi," I echoed, equally absurd, breathless and not sorry.

 

"Again?" His voice was already roughened with the request.

 

"Yes," I said, and he did, softer this time, like the first was a claim and this one was a promise. He kissed me with all the heat in him and a carefulness he pretended he didn't have. The tent whooped around us as another firework went up, scattering silver stars that drifted down like snow and melted on our shoulders.

 

When we eased apart, it wasn't very far. The world edged back in—Matilda hugging Mable; Gareth Sr. trying to lead a toast; Reggie rolling his eyes at Edward's attempt to sing. A trio of tiny cousins dashed between dancers with sparklers, pursued by an aunt wielding a damp dishcloth.

 

Sebastian's hand had not left my back. He looked at me like he could fix his entire year by memorising this exact arrangement of my mouth. 

 

"I told you," he murmured, amused and ruined. "Restraint only lasts if you make me keep it."

 

"And I...didn't," I said, dizzy with how uncomplicated that truth felt.

 

"Thank Merlin."

 

He glanced over my shoulder toward the tables and, for the first time since his mouth touched mine, looked like he remembered other people existed. Imelda was elbowing Violet with an exaggerated told you so face; Priscilla pretended not to watch while very obviously watching. Poppy was crying, of course, happy little tears that she tried to hide with a napkin; Ominis leaned down as she spoke and nodded like he could see the whole scene through sound alone.

 

"Do you want—" he began.

 

"Air," I said at the same time, and we both laughed, relief peeking out from under everything else.

 

He threaded our fingers together—the easiest decision of the night—and led me toward the tent flap, weaving through congratulations and catcalls like he'd been expecting them. Mable swooped by, kissing my cheek and then his, whispering, 

 

"About time," with the brisk satisfaction of a woman whose pies had turned out perfectly and whose party had produced at least one kiss worth bragging about. Matilda caught my eye again, tipped her butterbeer as though toasting something she'd bet on and won, and drifted away before either of us could get embarrassed.

 

We stepped out into the cold. The night had kept a few stars for itself that the charmed ceiling couldn't steal. The Burrow hunched companionably against the dark, windows honey-bright. Fireworks blossomed in the sky above the paddock, painting the fields green, then red, then gold. Each bang rolled off into the hills.

 

Sebastian stood behind me, his hands finding my hips through the silk as if the map of me was the only one he'd studied all term. He rested his chin on my shoulder, the gesture so easy it felt like memory.

 

"You're shaking," he said, amused.

 

"It's cold," I lied.

 

He made a humming sound like he wasn't fooled and opened his coat, tugging me back into it with him, rude and generous all at once. Heat wrapped me, the scent of him and smoke and winter. The necklace cooled under his warmth; the star pin at my collar winked once in the reflection of a golden firework and then went quiet.

 

"Happy New Year," he said again, his mouth close to my ear.

 

"Happy New Year," I said, and tilted my head toward his like I'd been meaning to since the moment we arrived.

 

He kissed the hinge of my jaw, quick, like a secret. 

 

"Don't make me wait that long again."

 

"You're impossible."

 

"Constant," he corrected, and I didn't argue because he was right, and because I didn't want him to be anything else.

 

Inside the tent, a new song started—louder, hopeful, built for shouting. We watched the next firework go up. When it burst, it scattered into bright points that arranged themselves into a constellation I didn't recognise, then shifted into the outline of a lion, then a dragon, then a heart so on-the-nose that I laughed and turned in his arms to hide it against his mouth.

 

For once, I wasn't afraid of what came next. Not tonight.

 

Not with stars above us and his hands steady where they held me like we were finally, finally done pretending we weren't going to do this anyway.

Chapter 49: Over the line

The Burrow was quieter the morning after New Year's Day. Not silent—no Weasley household could ever be truly silent—but softer. The enchanted tent had been dismantled, folded away until next year, leaving only frost-crusted grass scattered with the ashes of fireworks. A few lanterns still bobbed lazily from tree branches, dimmed to sleepy glows. The smell of treacle and woodsmoke lingered, but faint now, like a memory you could taste.

 

Inside, the kitchen was a battlefield of half-cleared platters and crumbs. Mable clucked and fussed as though the world might end if we left hungry. She pressed pies into our hands, tucked pasties into coat pockets, and scolded Edward when he tried to steal a bottle of firewhisky for the road.

 

"You've done enough damage," she said, whisking it away. "You'll thank me when you don't spend the first week back with a stomach full of regret."

 

Edward only grinned, clapping Ellis on the shoulder. 

 

"Regret makes the best stories."

 

"Not with you telling them," Reggie muttered, stacking empty mugs with precise disdain.

 

Beatrice darted between them, clutching a tiny packet of sweets. 

 

"Poppy gave me these! She says I can have them all to myself."

 

Mable sighed. 

 

"You'll make yourself sick, love."

 

"I won't," Beatrice promised solemnly, already unwrapping one.

 

The chaos was warm, chaotic, and strangely hard to leave.

 

Matilda Weasley appeared in the doorway as we gathered our trunks. Her cloak was neat, her expression sharper than her relatives', though her eyes softened when they landed on me. She drew me aside while the others argued over who'd forgotten what.

 

"I expect you back at the castle with your head on straight," she said quietly. "The holiday's over, Miss Winters. Don't lose yourself in all...this." Her gaze flicked, almost imperceptibly, toward Sebastian.

 

Heat crawled up my neck. 

 

"Yes, Professor."

 

"Matilda, tonight," she corrected, lips quirking. "At school, Professor."

 

I nodded, and she gave me the faintest smile before sweeping back into the kitchen, already snapping at Edward to tie his cloak properly.

 

We gathered in the garden, cloaks pulled tight against the January wind. Frost glittered over the hedges; the crooked roof of the Burrow smoked companionably behind us. Gareth Sr. clapped Noah and Sebastian on the back with enough force to stagger them both.

 

"Come again next year," he boomed. "Bring the lot of you—Mable loves a full house, don't you, love?"

 

Mable muttered something about "too many shoes by the door" but her smile betrayed her. She tucked another packet of pies into Ominis's satchel and kissed Beatrice's hair before shooing us toward the apparition point.

 

We huddled together, everyone adjusting cloaks and tightening grips on trunks. Poppy fussed over Ominis, checking that his scarf was properly wound; Ellis nearly dropped his trunk twice before Priscilla smacked his arm and took it from him; Violet muttered about frostbite while Noah teased her for being dramatic.

 

Through it all, Sebastian stood at my shoulder, not quite touching but close enough that the air between us burned. He hadn't said a word about the kiss. Neither had I. But every time my eyes slid sideways, his were already there.

 

When the world snapped back into place after apparition, the castle loomed above us. Hogwarts, its towers black against a pale winter sky, windows lit like a thousand watching eyes. The carriages waited, pulled by thestrals whose breath curled pale in the cold.

 

We climbed aboard in a flurry of chatter. Imelda elbowed me into the seat between her and Sebastian with a grin that said she knew exactly what she was doing. Across from us, Violet and Noah were already bickering about who'd packed more sweets; Ellis leaned dramatically against Priscilla's shoulder, moaning about frostbite until she told him to hush.

 

The carriage jolted into motion. The wheels groaned over frozen ruts, snow scattering from the thestrals' hooves.

 

Sebastian stretched his legs out until his knee brushed mine. He didn't move it.

 

"You're quiet," Imelda said, side-eying him.

 

"I'm thinking," he replied.

 

"About what?"

 

Before he could answer, Sebastian smirked at me.

 

"About how I was right."

 

I shot him a look. 

 

"About what, exactly?"

 

His eyes held mine, steady and unrepentant. 

 

"Restraint."

 

My breath caught. Imelda made an exaggerated gagging noise. 

 

"Merlin's sake, can you two at least pretend the rest of us don't exist?"

 

Violet giggled. Priscilla raised her brows in silent question. Noah only smirked knowingly.

 

I shook my head, forcing a laugh, but my pulse was still tripping over itself. Sebastian leaned back, looking smug, but the weight of his knee against mine never shifted.

 

The rest of the ride passed in bursts of chatter—Ellis planning some ridiculous prank, Violet shrieking when Noah stole one of her sweets, Imelda lecturing Gareth about his broom technique. But beneath it all, the silence between me and Sebastian roared.

 

When the castle gates swung open, my chest tightened. Hogwarts. Back to stone walls, to shadows, to secrets lingering like smoke. But also back to the place where everything between me and Sebastian had started, and where it refused to stop.

 

——————————————

 

The carriages jolted to a stop beneath the great iron gates. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Breath steamed the cold air; the thestrals stamped their hooves, their ribs stark under pale hides. Then the doors groaned open and we spilled out into the snow, half-laughing, half-complaining.

 

"Absolutely going to die," Ellis groaned as he staggered down, clutching his trunk like it was the only thing keeping him upright. "Tell my family I was very handsome, and that my sacrifice was noble."

 

Priscilla rolled her eyes and tugged him along by the sleeve. 

 

"You're not dying. You're hungover."

 

Noah hopped down lightly, brushing snow off his cloak with smug precision. 

 

"Can't all handle their drink, I suppose."

 

"Shut up," Ellis muttered.

 

Violet climbed out after them, cheeks flushed from the cold. 

 

"If you two start bickering already, I'm hexing you before we even make it inside."

 

I swung down last. The January air bit sharp against my face, but it carried the familiar tang of frost and woodsmoke. Above us, Hogwarts loomed—stone towers against a winter sky, windows glowing like a thousand watchful eyes. Torches burned along the front steps, their light catching the snow on the balustrades.

 

Sebastian offered his hand without asking. Warm fingers closed around mine, steadying me to the ground. He didn't let go right away.

 

"Careful," he murmured.

 

"I'm always careful," I said. Which would have been more convincing if I hadn't immediately slipped on a patch of ice.

 

He caught my elbow before I could so much as gasp. His smile was maddening.

 

We walked close as the group trudged toward the doors. Our shoulders brushed, then brushed again. Deliberate, this time.

 

"Back we go," Poppy sighed, looping her arm through Ominis's as she guided him up the steps. His shoes tapped against the stone in measured rhythm, his head angled slightly, listening to the echoes.

 

Inside, the Entrance Hall swallowed us whole. Noise rolled over the flagstones: trunks dragging, owls hooting from rafters, laughter bouncing sharp against the vaulted ceiling. Snow dripped from cloaks, leaving dark patches across the floor. The air smelled of smoke, stone, and the faint sweetness drifting up from the kitchens.

 

"Merlin," Noah muttered, sniffing dramatically. "That's treacle tart. Bet it's pudding."

 

Violet elbowed him. "And you're sharing."

 

"Never."

 

The doors to the Great Hall stood open. Candlelight spilled across the flagstones, bright and welcoming. Above the long tables floated a hundred candles, their flames steady despite the draft. The enchanted ceiling showed a sweep of wintry clouds, wisps of snow tumbling down to vanish before they touched us.

 

The eight of us slid into our usual seats at the Slytherin table—me wedged between Imelda and Priscilla, Violet across from me. The lads clustered further down: Gareth gesticulating wildly about something that happened at the Burrow, Ellis groaning into his hands, Noah smirking like he was enjoying the show.

 

Sebastian? He chose the spot opposite me, as if there'd been no question. Our knees found each other under the table almost instantly. Accident. Then not. His mouth didn't move, but his eyes did, a silent dare.

 

"Still can't believe Gareth's dad tried to toast us three different times," Imelda snorted, reaching for a roll. "The third one was just him shouting Weasley! loud enough to wake the garden gnomes."

 

"And Beatrice stole half the treacle tart before anyone noticed," Violet giggled. "I thought your mum was going to faint, Gareth."

 

Gareth only shrugged, mouth already full. 

 

"It was her birthday week. Exceptions were made."

 

Priscilla smirked. 

 

"Exceptions were made for Alora too, apparently."

 

Heat rushed to my face. 

 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

 

"Oh, don't play innocent," Imelda said, eyes gleaming. "We all saw you and Sallow at midnight."

 

Violet squealed, bouncing in her seat.

 

 "I knew it! I told you all week something was going to happen!"

 

Ellis leaned over from further down the table, loud enough for half the Hall to hear. 

 

"Weasley fireworks weren't the only thing going off, eh, Sallow?"

 

Noah smirked, raising his goblet in lazy salute. 

 

"You'll set her on fire if you keep staring like that."

 

"I'm just enjoying supper," Sebastian said, smug but composed. His eyes didn't leave me.

 

"Enjoying supper," Imelda mocked, rolling her eyes. "He hasn't looked at his plate once."

 

Priscilla leaned in with a sly little smile. 

 

"So. Was it just a New Year's thing, or...?"

 

"Drop it," I muttered, stabbing a potato.

 

"Not a chance," Violet sang.

 

Across the table, Ominis arrived with Poppy, sliding neatly into place beside Sebastian. Without fanfare, he tapped Sebastian's elbow, forcing him to sit straighter. 

 

"Stop smirking like a Kneazle with cream. You're embarrassing the rest of us."

 

"I'm always dignified," Sebastian said innocently.

 

Three of us snorted in unison.

 

The platters filled themselves, the smell of roast chicken and rosemary washing over the table. Conversation swelled again—Ellis trying to prove he hadn't actually lost the drinking contest (he had), Gareth recounting in great detail how Violet screamed when a firework misfired too close, Noah stealing food off Violet's plate until she slapped his hand.

 

At the High Table, Professor Weasley rose. The Hall hushed.

 

"Welcome back," she said, her voice warm but commanding. "For some of you, this is your final term at Hogwarts. NEWT candidates—" the groan was immediate "—you have done difficult things before, and you will do them again. For the rest of you, kindly allow your classmates to study in peace. That means no fireworks indoors."

 

Her gaze flicked neatly toward the Gryffindor table. Clearly searching for Gareth, Matilda's lips twitched before she sat again.

 

Pudding appeared—treacle tart, apple crumble, sugared plums. Violet moaned over hers, Imelda inhaled hers, Priscilla delicately sliced hers like it was a sacred ritual.

 

Sebastian still hadn't looked at his plate. His eyes stayed on me, not devouring, but steady. Memorising.

 

When the feast ended and benches scraped back, we rose with the crowd. Sebastian stood just a beat after me, like he'd been waiting.

 

"Common room?" Imelda asked, stretching until her back cracked.

 

"In a minute," I said.

 

Priscilla's brows arched. Violet smirked.

 

Sebastian's sleeve brushed mine as we were swept toward the doors. He leaned close, voice low enough for me alone. 

 

"Tomorrow. Library. After dinner."

 

Not a question.

 

My mouth betrayed me. 

 

"All right."

 

The corner of his mouth curved, small and victorious. Then the tide of students pulled us apart, leaving only the echo of the word tomorrow and the weight of everyone else's knowing smiles.

 

——————————————

 

The tide of students surged toward the staircases, voices echoing off the stone. Cloaks brushed past me, laughter rising and falling as the crowd was swallowed by the castle's arteries. I trailed behind the girls, half-lost in their chatter, until a hand caught my sleeve.

 

"Alora."

 

Ominis's voice. Soft, measured. I turned, and he tilted his head toward the side corridor that led off into shadow.

 

"I'll catch you up," I called to Violet, who raised a brow but let herself be tugged along by Priscilla and Imelda. Their voices drifted upward on the stairwell until the corridor was quiet but for the steady drip of meltwater somewhere in the dark.

 

Ominis waited until their footsteps faded. Then he spoke.

 

"He's going to push harder now."

 

I didn't need him to say who. The words settled between us, heavy as stone.

 

"I—"

 

He raised a hand, stopping me. 

 

"You don't have to explain. I was there. I heard the way his voice changed after midnight. I've known Sebastian long enough to recognise when restraint has gone out the window." His mouth tilted wryly. "Not that it was ever one of his strengths."

 

I stared at the damp lines seeping down the wall, at the faint gleam of torchlight catching on his hair. My throat felt tight. 

 

"It was just—"

 

"Don't say it was nothing," he interrupted gently. "You don't kiss him like that if it's nothing. And he doesn't look at you the way he did tonight unless he's already decided you're his again."

 

The memory of Sebastian's eyes across the Great Hall flashed unbidden, sharp enough to cut. I pressed my palms together to keep them still.

 

Ominis angled his head, listening in that way of his that felt like being read. 

 

"You're not running anymore. You know that, don't you?"

 

I wanted to deny it. To say I'd just been caught in the moment, that the fireworks and the laughter had swept me into something temporary. But the lie stuck. Because he was right. I hadn't run. I hadn't even wanted to.

 

He sighed, the sound threaded with fond exasperation. 

 

"I don't want to lecture you. But you need to understand what you've invited back in. He doesn't do half-measures, Alora. If you let him, he'll consume you again."

 

The words landed like an echo from last year, when Sebastian had indeed consumed me—walking me to every class, waiting outside every room, dragging me into stolen moments like his life depended on it. At the time, it had felt overwhelming, too much. And yet, it had also been the happiest I'd ever been.

 

"I know," I whispered.

 

Silence stretched. The castle creaked around us, old stone settling.

 

"You deserve to be happy," Ominis said finally. "And I think—Merlin help me—I think he makes you happy, in his way. But he's also dangerous, Alora. Not because he wants to hurt you. But because when it comes to you, he doesn't think. He doesn't stop."

 

My chest tightened. Because wasn't that exactly what I wanted? Someone who didn't stop? Someone who made me feel like the only thing in the world that mattered?

 

Ominis's foot clicked against the flagstones. His face softened, though his voice stayed steady. 

 

"Be careful. Please. If you can't stop him, then at least don't lie to yourself about what's happening. Because he won't stop. Not until you make him."

 

I swallowed hard. 

 

"I can handle it."

 

The words sounded braver than I felt.

 

He tilted his head again, listening, as though weighing the tremor beneath my voice. 

 

"I hope you can. Because he's already planning his next move."

 

A shiver ran through me, not entirely from the cold. 

 

"How do you know?"

 

"I know him." His lips curved faintly, rueful. "And I heard him. 'Tomorrow. Library. After dinner.' That wasn't a request. That was a strategy."

 

My breath caught.

 

Ominis angled his face toward me, unseeing eyes focused with uncanny precision. 

 

"Don't pretend you didn't notice. He's laid his trap, and you're already halfway in it."

 

I wanted to laugh, to roll my eyes, to brush it off as exaggeration. But the truth was written in the way my pulse jumped at the thought of tomorrow.

 

He sighed again, softer this time, almost affectionate. 

 

"I'm not telling you to stay away from him. Just... know what you're stepping into. Because Sebastian won't let you go easily. Not again."

 

He tapped his foot once more, then straightened, the lines of tension smoothing from his face. The warning was delivered; the matter, for him, was closed.

 

"Come on," he said, voice lighter now. "The common room will be impossible to navigate if we leave Imelda unsupervised for too long."

 

I forced a shaky laugh, falling into step beside him. The corridor swallowed our footsteps, and the castle loomed ahead, waiting.

 

But Ominis's words clung like frost: He won't stop. Not until you make him.

 

And deep down, I knew I had no intention of stopping him at all.

 

——————————————

 

The dungeons breathed cool and damp around us as we made our way down. The torches sputtered greenish light along the stone, shadows slipping away at our approach. By the time we reached the Slytherin entrance, the crowd of students had already thinned; most had scattered to their own common rooms, carrying their chatter and gossip with them.

 

At the wall, Ominis slowed. Poppy was still at his side, her voice a quiet hum of excitement as she recounted something about her grandmother's garden. She smiled at me when we stopped.

 

"I should get back," she said, tugging her cloak tighter. "Hufflepuff won't wait for me to tell them everything about the holidays."

 

"Allow me," Ominis said smoothly, angling his wand toward the corridor that branched away toward the kitchens. "I'll see her safely there."

 

Poppy's cheeks flushed pink. 

 

"You don't have to—"

 

"I want to," he interrupted gently.

 

Her answering smile was soft enough to warm the whole dungeon.

 

Ominis turned his face slightly toward me, his milky eyes steady in their way. 

 

"Remember what I said, Alora. Be careful."

 

The words curled around me like a thread pulled tight. Before I could answer, he took Poppy's arm, and the two of them disappeared down the corridor, their voices fading into the stone.

 

I exhaled slowly, then stepped forward. The wall slid open at my touch, revealing the familiar sweep of the Slytherin common room.

 

Green firelight licked at the dark stone walls. The great windows were black with the lake's winter depths, though the occasional flicker of a fish tail cut through the murk. Lanterns glowed along the arches; shadows pooled thick in the corners. The room smelled of smoke and damp wool and something faintly metallic that always reminded me of coins left too long in the pocket.

 

It was busy, but not chaotic. Clusters of students huddled around card tables, or sprawled across sofas with bottles of butterbeer balanced precariously on armrests. Someone had enchanted a deck of Exploding Snap to float above a group in the corner, the occasional pop of sparks drawing groans and laughter.

 

The girls had claimed their usual sofa near the fire. Imelda sat cross-legged, gesturing wildly with a butterbeer as she argued about Quidditch tactics; Violet leaned against the armrest, hair spilling over her shoulders as she giggled at something Noah said; Priscilla lounged elegantly, her smile razor-sharp even in repose.

 

Ellis and Noah were halfway through a card game on the rug, voices raised in dramatic complaint. Gareth had vanished—probably already in his dorm, face-down on his bed after the feast.

 

And then there was Sebastian.

 

He sat in one of the armchairs angled toward the fire, long legs stretched out, an open book resting forgotten on one knee. The flames painted his face in shifting light and shadow, picking out the sharp line of his jaw, the scatter of freckles across his cheekbones. He looked at ease, lazy almost. But the second I crossed the threshold, his head lifted. His eyes found mine, precise and unhurried, like he'd been waiting.

 

The chatter of the room dimmed at the edges. My stomach tightened.

 

I moved past him toward the girls, willing myself not to stumble, not to show how his gaze hooked into me. But just as I passed the arm of his chair, his voice came low, pitched so only I could hear.

 

"Don't be late tomorrow."

 

It wasn't a question. It wasn't even a request. It was certainty, threaded with quiet challenge.

 

My steps faltered. I turned my head just enough to catch his expression. The firelight caught his eyes, sharp and amused. He wasn't smirking, not fully—but the curve at his mouth promised he knew exactly how the words landed.

 

"I wasn't planning to," I said. My voice came out steadier than I felt.

 

Satisfaction flickered across his face. He leaned back in the chair, stretching as though the matter was already settled, the book sliding lower on his knee. But his gaze followed me all the way to the sofa.

 

The girls barely gave me a chance to sit before they pounced.

 

"You're late," Imelda said, grinning. "What were you up to, hmm?"

 

"Nothing," I lied, tucking my cloak tighter around me.

 

Violet squealed. 

 

"That means something."

 

Priscilla arched a brow, but didn't press. Her knowing smile was worse than words.

 

I sank back against the cushions, trying to let their chatter wash over me. But across the room, I felt his eyes like a hand pressed against the back of my neck.

 

Later, when the others drifted upstairs in a blur of laughter and yawns, I lingered a moment by the railing. The fire had burned lower, shadows stretching long across the room. Sebastian still sat in his armchair, book abandoned on the floor, head tilted back against the cushion. His eyes weren't closed. They were on me.

 

I turned, heart hammering, and climbed the stairs to the girl's dormitory. His stare pressed between my shoulder blades until the door shut behind me, leaving me alone with Ominis's warning in my ears and the taste of midnight still burning at the back of my throat.

Chapter 50: After hours

The first full day back at Hogwarts felt like being dropped into a duel without a wand.

 

Sharp began the morning with his usual brand of optimism: ten minutes of glaring silence followed by a curt demand for two-foot essays on antidote variations, "due yesterday." By the time he finished tearing apart poor Haversham's attempt at brewing a Wiggenweld, half the class looked ready to fling themselves into their cauldrons.

 

Charms was no gentler. Professor Ronen gave us a cheerful speech about NEWTs being "a chance to show the world the best of yourselves," then promptly assigned six new charms to master before February. Even Binns, whose droning usually lulled half the class into stupors, had produced a stack of parchment filled with "potential examination essays" and floated them around the room until we were smothered in them.

 

By the end of the day, my bag sagged like it had been filled with stones. My quill hand ached. My brain buzzed with dates, incantations, formulae—and through it all, one low voice threaded constant through the noise.

 

Don't be late.

 

Sebastian's words from the common room last night pulsed at the back of my mind, making every lecture blur, every assignment weigh differently. I tried to anchor myself in my notes, but the letters bent and blurred, turning into shapes that looked more like him than anything resembling academic sense.

 

Dinner passed in a haze. I picked at roast potatoes, laughed at something Violet said without hearing it properly, nodded when Imelda announced she'd already lost interest in NEWTs entirely. Across the table, Sebastian lounged with his usual air of lazy defiance, Noah and Ellis making a racket beside him. But his eyes kept finding me. Every time I looked up, there they were, steady, relentless.

 

By the time I trudged up the staircase to the girls' dormitory, exhaustion dragged at every limb. I longed for nothing more than my quilt and silence. But when I pushed the door open, three heads snapped toward me like hounds catching scent.

 

"Ohhh, here she is," Violet sang, perched cross-legged on her bed, hairbrush dangling in her hand.

 

My stomach sank. 

 

"What?"

 

Imelda rolled onto her side, smirk sharp enough to cut glass. 

 

"Don't play dumb. You've been off all day. Couldn't even tell Sharp the difference between fluxweed and knotgrass without staring off into space."

 

"I was tired," I muttered, dropping my satchel with a heavy thud.

 

Priscilla's voice was calm, almost gentle, but her eyes glinted. 

 

"Tired? Or distracted?"

 

Heat crept up my neck. I tugged at the buckles of my boots with more force than necessary. 

 

"Both."

 

Violet bounced off her bed like a spring. 

 

"Definitely distracted! You nearly dropped your fork when Sebastian sat down at supper."

 

"I did not," I protested, tugging harder at the boot.

 

"You did," Imelda countered, gleeful. "Honestly, Winters, if you're going to sneak off, at least try to look convincing."

 

"I'm not sneaking anywhere," I said, finally yanking the boot free.

 

All three of them stared at me in unison, identical expressions of disbelief.

 

Violet's grin stretched. 

 

"He told you, didn't he?"

 

My heart stumbled. 

 

"Told me what?"

 

Priscilla smirked. 

 

"Library. Tonight."

 

The second boot slipped out of my hand and clattered to the floor. Imelda let out a cackle that rattled the bedframe.

 

"I knew it," Violet squealed, clapping her hands. "You're meeting him! Oh, Alora!"

 

"I—"

 

"No use pretending," Priscilla said smoothly. "We all heard him. He didn't exactly whisper."

 

Imelda leaned forward, chin on her palm. 

 

"The boy said it like an order. And you didn't even argue. You just nodded like—" She mimed slack-jawed agreement. "Pathetic."

 

I groaned and buried my face in the nearest pillow. 

 

"I hate you all."

 

"No you don't," Violet sang, climbing onto my bed to shake my shoulder. "You love us. And we love that you've finally stopped being the world's most frustrating person."

 

Imelda flopped onto her back, laughing until tears streaked her cheeks. 

 

"I knew it would happen. Knew it! He's been circling you like a hawk all year. Finally caught you again."

 

Priscilla tilted her head, her voice quieter but no less sharp. 

 

"Just don't let him make a mess of your NEWTs. That boy has a way of swallowing everything else whole."

 

Her words slipped under my skin, leaving an ache I didn't want to name.

 

I peeked up from the pillow, cheeks hot. 

 

"He won't."

 

"He absolutely will," Imelda said, wicked grin widening.

 

Violet squealed again. 

 

"Have you done anymore kissing since New Year's?"

 

My pillow hit her square in the face.

 

The dorm exploded into chaos. Violet shrieked and threw it back, Imelda doubled over howling, Priscilla raised her book like a shield. My protests drowned in their laughter, the room filled with warmth and noise until I couldn't help but laugh too.

 

When the giggles finally ebbed and the candles burned lower, I curled into my quilt. My roommates drifted toward sleep, murmurs fading into snores and sighs.

 

But I lay awake, heart hammering, Sebastian's voice threading through my thoughts louder than any lecture or assignment.

 

Don't be late.

 

And I knew I wouldn't be.

 

———————————————

 

After curfew, the castle wore its older face. The torches thinned to watchlights; the air felt colder, cleaner, like the stone was exhaling after a long day of holding us up. My boots whispered along the flagstones, the sound of my own breath too loud in my ears. I shouldn't have been this nervous. It was only the library. It was only Sebastian. It was only every bad decision I'd promised myself I wouldn't make, arranged into one neat rendezvous.

 

I pushed open the library doors.

 

Candles hovered like little moons above the deserted tables, their flames reflected in the long panes of darkened windows. The smell of parchment and dust wrapped around me, familiar and severe. Somewhere, a clock ticked with maddening calm.

 

He was already there.

 

Sebastian had claimed a corner table by the stacks, back to the wall like he'd chosen the position deliberately, so he could see who came and went. A few respectable-looking books were open within reach, quills at the ready, ink uncapped. The picture of academic virtue—if academic virtue looked like trouble in an untidy collar and a mouth that couldn't help smiling when it shouldn't.

 

His eyes found me the moment the doors whispered shut. The smile arrived a beat later, slow, inevitable.

 

"You're late," he said.

 

"I'm precisely on time," I said, which wasn't true, but arguing made the heat in my face easier to ignore.

 

He tipped his head, conceding nothing. 

 

"Close enough."

 

I crossed the room as if the space between us were nothing. It wasn't. Every step felt like a count, every breath a rung further up a ladder I couldn't climb back down. I took the chair opposite him and pulled a book from my bag with performative seriousness.

 

"Studying," I announced.

 

"Mm," he said, the sound low and pleased. "My favourite."

 

I tried to read. Tried to copy a passage so boring it should have anaesthetised me on the spot. Tried to pretend I couldn't feel his gaze like a hand on my skin. The ink blurred. I wrote three sentences that, when I looked back, amounted to nothing but the word focus repeated as if repetition could conjure obedience from my thoughts.

 

"Stop pretending," he murmured.

 

My eyes flicked up. 

 

"Pretending what?"

 

"That we're here to study."

 

He pushed his chair back and came around the table, the sound of wood against stone louder than it had any right to be. He took the seat beside me like he'd always meant to, as if the space had been carved for him. Our knees brushed. He left them there.

 

"Better view from here," he said.

 

"Of the text," I said, attempting prim.

 

He didn't bother answering that. Instead, he angled toward me, close enough that the candlelight warmed the line of his jaw, close enough that I could see the scatter of freckles across his cheekbones like a constellation that only showed itself at this hour.

 

I looked down at the page. It might as well have been blank.

 

His hand came down over mine. Warm. Certain. His thumb pressed lightly where my knuckles tightened around the quill.

 

"Careful," he said softly.

 

The quill splotched a teardrop of ink on the margin. My breath stuttered. I felt foolishly aware of everything—of the rasp of paper fibers under my palm, of the way his sleeve brushed my wrist when he leaned closer, of the steady pulse inside my throat as if I were someone he'd just chased, and caught.

 

"You're not running," he said, as if remarking on the weather.

 

"Should I be?"

 

He smiled against the edge of a laugh. 

 

"Too late for that."

 

His hand slid from mine to the back of my chair, fingers curling over the wood, drawing me closer without quite touching me. The book closed of its own accord—my hand might have done it, or his, or gravity, or the simple truth that words had nothing to do with what was happening.

 

"Sebastian," I said, and it wasn't a warning. Not the kind that meant stop.

 

"Alora," he returned, as if that answered anything.

 

He gave me one heartbeat to move. I didn't. Then his mouth was on mine.

 

The first kiss at the Burrow had been a detonation, bright and public, heat and relief set off by fireworks and noise. This one was darker, quieter, greedy. He kissed me like he meant to erase the weeks between the last time and now, like time had been a mistake and he refused to forgive it. I opened for him because I always had, because the first time I'd let him tilt my chin and ask for more I'd taught my body a lesson it refused to unlearn. His tongue brushed mine and something low in me went molten.

 

The chair creaked as I turned toward him. My knees hit his. He made a sound—half laugh, half groan—that I felt more than heard, and the hand on my chair left the wood for my waist, fingers warm through the layers of fabric as he tugged me closer. I fisted my hand in his sleeve, the other skidding across parchment and smearing ink. He didn't care. He kissed me like the library was a room we'd invented, a secret with a door we could bolt from the inside.

 

He broke just long enough to breathe against my mouth.

 

"Merlin, I missed this," he said, wrecked and reverent, and then he kissed me again, deeper, until I forgot what air had ever been for.

 

When he trailed his mouth to my jaw, my head tipped without my permission. He found the hinge of it with ridiculous accuracy, found the pulse at my throat, the place behind my ear that had always, always undone me. His teeth grazed, barely there, and my breath left me in a sound I hoped the books forgave me for making.

 

His hand slid—hesitating, asking-but-not-asking—over my hip and up my spine, a slow line of heat. The edge of the table bit into my back, reminding me we were still in the world. He didn't seem to believe it. He drew me that inch closer until my knees bracketed his and there was nothing abstract about the way he wanted, nothing polite about the way I answered.

 

"Sebastian," I said again, and this time it was the kind of warning that meant god, yes, but.

 

"What?" He didn't look up. His breath warmed the chain at my throat.

 

"Someone—"

 

"Is sleeping," he said, smiling against my skin. "Or not here."

 

"You don't know that."

 

"I do," he said, and kissed lower.

 

"Mr. Sallow."

 

The words knifed the air.

 

We snapped apart so quickly the chair barked against the floor. Madam Scribner stood at the end of the aisle, arms folded, expression like a guillotine poised above a neck. The candlelight sharpened her glasses into two bright coins of disapproval.

 

Sebastian didn't flinch. He rose, smooth as ever, and pulled his face into a replica of innocence that would have fooled someone born yesterday.

 

"Evening, Madam Scribner," he said, voice too even. "We were just—studying."

 

"Studying," she repeated, surveying the mangled parchment, the splotches of ink, the fact that I was still clutching his sleeve like a lifeline.

 

I let go so fast I nearly fell off the chair. 

 

"We—yes—"

 

"Out," she said crisply. "Both of you. If you have so much energy after hours, I'm sure Professor Sharp will be delighted to set you additional work. Now."

 

Sebastian gathered our books without looking away from her. Then he leaned, casually, to stack my papers—and in that fraction of a second his mouth curved near my ear with indecent confidence.

 

"Next time," he murmured, "no interruptions."

 

My knees considered abandoning me on the spot.

 

We walked—walked—to the doors like respectable students, accepting our banishment with what I hoped read as humility. The instant the heavy wood swung shut behind us and the corridor swallowed us, I put both hands over my face and groaned.

 

He laughed. Not loud. Not the bark he gave Gareth when a joke landed. This was the soft, terrible kind that belonged to me.

 

"You're impossible," I said through my fingers.

 

"Constant," he corrected, as if we kept score and this evened something.

 

I lowered my hands enough to glare at him. It lacked conviction. 

 

"We could have been given detention for the rest of the year."

 

He considered that. 

 

"Worth it."

 

"Sebastian."

 

He stepped in, and the corridor shrank on cue. 

 

"Say you regret it," he said, gentle as a lie. "I'll let you go back to the common room and be good until June."

 

I stared at him, at the ridiculous, infuriating face of the boy who could set my whole body alight by breathing wrong in my direction, and made a very unconvincing attempt at composing a sober refusal.

 

He smiled, patient and wicked. 

 

"That's what I thought."

 

He took my hand. Not my wrist, not my elbow, not some move that pretended I needed steering. He laced our fingers like it was the simplest thing in the world and tugged.

 

"Come on," he said. "If we can't be scandalous in the library, we'll be scandalous somewhere else."

 

"We're not being scandalous," I said, allowing myself to be led anyway.

 

"We're extremely scandalous," he said cheerfully. "In spirit."

 

The castle beyond the library was a map we'd drawn ourselves over the years—the shortcuts, the trick stairs, the alcoves where the torches burned lower and the suits of armour minded their own business. We slipped through it like ink through water. The night pressed its cold face against the long windows and we pressed back, two warm creatures conspiring under the stone's indifferent gaze.

 

He pulled me into the shadow of a niche where a spiral pillar knitted ceiling to floor. Moonlight found us anyway, silvering the edge of his cheek, catching in his eyes. He looked down at me like the corridor existed as an excuse to set off the expression currently ruining his face.

 

"What?" I asked, because I had to say something or kiss him first and I wanted to lose that battle with dignity.

 

"You look like you're about to run," he said.

 

"I came here."

 

"You did," he agreed. His knuckles brushed my jaw, a thoughtless touch that left thought impossible. 

 

"You keep doing that. Coming."

 

My breath stuttered. 

 

"You told me not to be late."

 

"And you listened." He slid his hand to the back of my neck, fingers warm where the chain lay cool against my skin. The stone behind me felt ancient and very alive. 

 

"That's new."

 

"You're insufferable."

 

"You like me like this."

 

Infuriatingly true. 

 

"Don't fish for compliments."

 

He laughed softly. 

 

"I'm not fishing. I'm learning."

 

And then he kissed me again—not the hungry, devouring thing from the table, but something slower, more dangerous. It felt like a promise he meant to keep, like the word mine said without sound. I made a small, undignified noise into his mouth, and he made one back that did not improve my chance of leaving this corridor upright.

 

His hand slipped under my jumper to the curve of my waist. I went up on my toes without permission, chasing him. Somewhere down the hall, a portrait coughed pointedly and then pretended to be asleep. We didn't look.

 

"Sebastian," I warned, because someone had to.

 

"What?" His mouth moved against mine when he spoke. He tasted like stolen sweets and trouble.

 

"We're in a corridor."

 

"Yes," he said, delighted to learn this fact as if it were new.

 

"If we get caught again—"

 

"We'll say we were looking for the loo. Or Peeves." He kissed the corner of my mouth like punctuation. 

 

"I don't care."

 

"You should," I said, but my hands had found his shoulders and then the back of his neck and then, traitorously, the hair at his nape, and now we were both doomed.

 

He made a useless sound—somewhere between victory and surrender—and pressed me more firmly into the angle of the niche. The cold stone at my spine made the heat of him feel obscene. His thumb traced the line where my bra met skin; my breath caught and he froze, as if to ask—this?—and I answered by not moving away.

 

"Tell me to stop," he said. It wasn't fair. His mouth was on mine when he said it.

 

I didn't. Couldn't. Wouldn't.

 

"Right," he murmured, and kissed me like a man given permission he didn't trust not to vanish.

 

We made it about ten more minutes like human beings with sense and then laughter spilled down from the landing above us—thin, bright, too close. He dropped his head to my shoulder and swore into my collarbone, the sound more amused than thwarted.

 

"Sixth years," he said, as if we weren't the worst offenders in the building. "Infesting my corridors."

 

"Yours," I echoed, trying not to smile and failing.

 

He straightened, eyes skimming my face like he meant to memorise what all of this had rearranged. He looked serious for a heartbeat, and it did something unpleasant to my chest.

 

"What?" I asked again, softer.

 

"Nothing," he said, which told me everything. He stepped back just far enough that air could think about existing between us again, then took my hand and tugged us back into motion. 

 

"Come on. Before Scribner decides to do patrols with a duelling kit."

 

We wove through another set of turns, down a stair where the stone had been worn into dips by centuries of feet, past a window so tall and thin it looked like a sword slit. The lake lay on the other side, a dark sheet flecked with colder darkness where the ice had caught. Out there, something big turned in sleep.

 

By the time the wall that let Slytherins into their green-lit safety appeared in the dim, the castle had convinced me we were the only people left awake in the world. Which made the murmur from beyond the door all the more irritating.

 

"Common room," he said, like a curse.

 

"Slytherins," I said, bleakly.

 

He pressed his palm to the stone; it sighed open. The room beyond was a patchwork of shadows and low laughter, embers banked in the grate. A handful of students lingered—Noah and Ellis at a card table quietly swearing allegiance to cheating, a pair of fifth-years doing homework like they meant it and Milov was asleep in an impossible sprawl with a Quidditch magazine draped over his face.

 

Sebastian walked in with that loose-shouldered swagger that passed for innocence when he tried hard. He didn't sit. Didn't say goodnight. Didn't give me the dignity of a courteous nod and a retreat. He stood close enough that the green fire turned his eyes a colour I recognised too well and waited until the fifth-years looked away.

 

"Up," he said, tilting his head toward the stairs.

 

I looked left—the girls' staircase. Right—the boys'. My throat tightened, which was ridiculous. We'd been separated by staircases before. It had not killed us. It would not kill us now.

 

"Goodnight, Sebastian," I said, like a person who made healthy choices.

 

"Not yet," he said, like a person who had been born to ruin me.

 

The staircases branched ahead—shadow swallowing the last few steps before they turned out of sight. He shepherded me into the braided dark where the two flights almost touched, where the wall thickened to carry their weight. It was just enough of a pocket to count as private to anyone not looking directly at it.

 

"Sebastian—" I began, already undone by the inevitability of it.

 

"—Winters," he returned, and then his mouth was on mine again.

 

It was fast and greedy and absolutely doomed from the start. The scrape of stone under my boots, the rasp of his breath, the quick, helpless sound I made when his hand circled my waist—every piece of it felt like a dare answered. He kissed me like he meant to steal the taste and keep it, like the only way to make sure I turned up in the library again was to make this the only way I remembered how to breathe.

 

He broke, just enough to speak against my lips. 

 

"Go," he said, voice shredded. "Before I drag you the wrong way."

 

"You wouldn't," I whispered. I wasn't sure if I believed it.

 

He laughed once, wrecked and warm. 

 

"Try me."

 

I swallowed, dizzy with the urge to stay and the thrill of leaving. 

 

"Goodnight," I said again, and it sounded like surrender pretending to be manners.

 

"Don't be late," he said, automatic, as if the words had grafted themselves to whatever mechanism moved his mouth.

 

"For what?" I managed.

 

"Everything," he said, and stepped back.

 

We looked at each other for one heartbeat too long. Then I turned and climbed, legs shaky, palms damp, the necklace at my throat suddenly heavy as a promise I'd made to no one but still felt bound to. Behind me, I could feel him watch until the turn of the stair took me away.

 

In the dorm, the dark had a lighter quality to it, like summer under a blanket. Violet snored with delicate malice. Imelda had managed to drool on the edge of her pillow and still looked somehow triumphant. Priscilla breathed like someone who had never done anything as untidy as sleep in her life.

 

I slipped under my quilt with cold hands and a hot face and stared at the canopy for a very long time, waiting for my heart to remember its old job. It didn't. It had found a new one.

 

No interruptions, he'd said.

 

I smiled into the dark like a fool.

 

And let the castle keep our secret for one more night.

 

———————————————

Sebastian’s POV 

 

The common room was still awake when I left her. Laughter, the shuffle of cards, Noah's voice cutting through Ellis's overblown groans. They'd be at it for hours yet, no doubt swearing allegiance to cheating and butterbeer in equal measure.

 

Fine by me. It meant the boys' dorm would be quiet when I slipped in.

 

I climbed the stairs, the smirk already tugging at my mouth. My collar was skewed, my lips still tingled, and my whole body thrummed with the memory of her — the library table, the shadowed corridor, the stairwell where I'd kissed her like I meant to pin her to the stone and never let go.

 

Merlin, I'd been right. She wasn't running anymore. Not from me.

 

I pushed the dorm door open, already half-thinking of what it would feel like to collapse into bed with the taste of her still on my tongue.

 

And stopped.

 

Ominis was awake.

 

He sat upright on his bed, nightshirt neat, wand loose in his hand. A faint thread of light glowed from the tip, not enough to brighten the room but enough to mark him as waiting.

 

Of course he was waiting.

 

My smirk faltered. 

 

"You're still up."

 

"I was," he said evenly. His head tilted slightly, angled toward me though his eyes stared sightlessly ahead. "Until you gave me reason not to be."

 

I dumped my shirt onto the chair by my trunk and forced nonchalance.

 

"You make it sound sinister. I was studying."

 

"At midnight." His tone was flat, surgical.

 

"The library's open late."

 

"Mm." He turned his wand idly in his fingers. "Tell me, Sebastian—what exactly were you studying? Judging by the state you've come back in, it wasn't Potions theory."

 

The smirk tugged back at my mouth, unbidden. I sat on the edge of my bed, stretching like the smug bastard I absolutely was. 

 

"Depends how you define theory."

 

His lips pressed together. 

 

"You need to treat her with respect."

 

I barked a laugh, heat still fizzing through me. 

 

"I did. In the library. In the courtyard. On the stairwell—"

 

"Merlin's sake," he cut in sharply, colour rising in his cheeks. "Spare me the details."

 

I grinned at him, enjoying how easily I could crack the calm façade. 

 

"What? You told me to respect her. I was very thorough."

 

"Sebastian." His voice sliced through my amusement. Cool, deliberate, and carrying something heavier beneath. 

 

"This isn't a joke. She's been through enough. If you can't see that—"

 

The smirk slipped again. My jaw clenched. 

 

"I see it."

 

"Do you?" He leaned forward slightly, wand still idling in his hand, face unreadable but his voice tight with steel. "Because the way you go at her—you don't stop to think about what she might need. Only what you want."

 

I bristled. 

 

"She wanted it too."

 

"I don't doubt she did." His words were quiet, weighted. "But that doesn't absolve you of the responsibility. If you care about her, you don't just take. You don't just consume. You make sure she walks away whole."

 

The words landed heavier than I expected. Whole. Did he think I'd break her?

 

I flopped back onto my bed, staring at the ceiling to hide the irritation tightening my chest. 

 

"I'm not going to hurt her."

 

"You already have," he said softly.

 

Silence crashed down. The crackle from the common room drifted faintly through the stone. My smirk was long gone, replaced by something harder, sharper, unsettled.

 

Across the room, Ominis finally set his wand aside and lay down, turning his face to the ceiling. His voice, when it came, was weary but edged with something protective that cut deeper than any threat.

 

"Don't make yourself another burden for her, Sebastian. She deserves better than that."

 

I didn't answer. Couldn't.

 

I lay in the dark, heart still hammering from her kiss, her laugh, the way she'd melted against me. Fire still roared in my blood, untamed, unstoppable. Ominis's words burned too, heavier, darker, dragging sparks into doubt.

 

But one truth carved itself through all of it

 

I wasn't letting her go.

 

Not now. Not ever.